The Charlotte Jewish News- March 2026- Page 28
The Recipe File: To Peel or Not to Peel
By Elizabeth Johnson
Growing up, the first sound of dinnertime in our house wasn’ t a pan sizzling or an oven door creaking open. It was my mother’ s vegetable peeler.
You could hear it from any room: the quick, rhythmic scrape of metal against carrot, potato, cucumber and hitting the sink. Furiously efficient, slightly therapeutic. It was her ritual; a quiet rebellion against the chaos of three kids running wild. Or bedlam as I have heard her referring to we Breyer children before.
Fast-forward a few decades and the peeler, once a kitchen essential, has fallen out of fashion. Keeping skins on, once the mark of laziness, is now practically chef’ s wisdom. And honestly? I’ m here for it. Leaving the skins on saves time, keeps the nutrients, and adds character. Carrots, cucumbers, potatoes of any variety? I rarely peel any of them. The texture, the color, the nutrients, well let’ s just say it’ s all part of the charm.
When I prepare mashed potatoes, I oftentimes leave the skins in for a little texture and rusticity. Add butter, sour cream, chopped scallions, fresh parsley or wilted greens and suddenly it looks intentional, not lazy. Sweet potatoes? The secret to crisp, golden frites is brushing the skins with a bit of egg white before roasting. They come out earth-shatteringly good. Win for the day: no knuckle-grazing required. Beets? Roast with skins on and they’ ll slip off- like a silk glove once cool. Radishes stay dressed; kiwis too, a trick from my South African cousins that still shocks people at dinner parties. I never remove the peel from apples, even when I make a crumble served with vanilla ice cream or clotted cream. I have even trained my 6-year-old daughter, Lucy, that skin on is the only way to go.
Recently, I decorated my kitchen island with a cheeseboard, chips, crackers and dips galore. This is one of the easiest ways to serve appetizing as well as visually appealing nosh for friends.
Pull together a cheese board with a hunk of Stilton, a creamy Brie, a sharp New Zealand cheddar, a ramiken of Chèvre and some other wild cards. Pair with a couple or more easy dips like hummus with dukkah, homemade ranch( buy the packet at the grocery store and mix with equal parts sour cream and Duke’ s mayo) or tzatziki with sumac.
So back to recently. Alongside the cheese and my accoutrement of dips, I served a platter of jewel-toned peppers, cucumbers, cauliflower, broccoli, radishes, celery, and a pile of carrots so fresh they still looked alive. Someone slightly turned up their nose asking,“ Did you forget to
peel these?” I smiled.“ Nope. That’ s how I eat them.” As if on cue, I heard murmurs of disbelief. You’ d have thought I’ d announced I smother my sushi in ketchup.
A friend immediately asked where she could find my vegetable peeler. And so, in the spirit of hospitality( and yes, mild peer pressure), out came my old peeler, long buried in the drawer. I said I would take care of things and in that first stroke, I was right back in my childhood
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Below is another number you can peel or choose not to peel. I don’ t and they’ re so loaded, no one can tell.
Sticky Roasted Carrots with Oranges & Tahini
If there is one dish that can convert even the carrot skeptics in your life, it’ s this one. Sticky, sweet, deeply caramelized. It’ s the kind of sheet-pan magic that perfumes the entire kitchen with citrus and warmth.
The oranges melt into the carrots, the tahini anchors everything with its earthy silkiness, and the dill-feta-hazelnut situation gives it lift and crunch. It’ s vibrant, elegant, and wildly simple.
Ingredients
• 1 lb. carrots
• 1 small red onion, quartered
• 1 small orange, thinly sliced
• 1 bunch dill, chopped
• 1 cup hazelnuts, toasted and chopped
• ½ cup( or more) feta cheese, crumbled
• ½ tsp red-pepper flakes
• 3 Tbsp maple syrup or honey
• ¼ cup olive oil, plus more for drizzling
• ¼ cup tahini
• 2 cloves of garlic, chopped
• Juice of 2 lemons
• Salt and freshly ground pepper
How To 1. Preheat the oven to 450 ° F. This high heat is what gives you those irresistible sticky edges. 2. Lightly pickle the onion. Toss the sliced red onion with the juice of 1 lemon, plus a pinch of salt and pepper. Let it sit for about 10 minutes to soften and brighten. 3. Drain the onion and set it aside. 4. Roast the vegetables. On a rimmed baking sheet, toss the carrots with the drained onion, olive oil, red-pepper flakes, and maple syrup or honey. Arrange everything in an even layer. 5. Tuck in the orange slices. Lay them right on top. They’ ll caramelize beautifully and perfume the entire tray. 6. Roast for 25 – 30 minutes, until the carrots are tender and the oranges have deep, frilled edges. 7. Make the tahini base. In a small bowl, whisk the tahini with 3 Tbsp water or lemon juice and chopped garlic until smooth and spoonable, think yogurt-like, not runny. Season with salt and pepper. Note, this makes a fabulous dressing for salads, grain bowls or roasted vegetables. 8. Plate with intention. Spoon the tahini in a generous swoosh across the bottom of a serving platter. Pile the roasted carrots and oranges on top. 9. Shower with toppings. Finish with chopped dill, crumbled feta, and toasted hazelnuts. This is where the dish really starts showing off. 10. Final flourish. Just before serving, drizzle with more olive oil, add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice, and sprinkle a few pinches of flaky sea salt( Maldon recommended).
How to Serve It
This dish shines warm or at room temperature. It is perfect for Shabbat, the holidays, a dinner party, or a Sunday spread where you want something equal parts rustic and glamorous.
There’ s something deeply grounding about peeling vegetables again. Sometimes, and I stress sometimes. But when I do, it’ s about revisiting old motions I once took for granted. Perhaps that’ s why cooking so often feels like memory work.
So, peel or don’ t peel, there’ s really no wrong answer. Because sometimes the path to nourishment begins with the simplest gesture: a single, satisfying scrape of a peeler over the sink. Like my wonderful mother always did.
Not every recipe comes from a cookbook. Many are saved in folders, envelopes, saved emails and slips of paper passed from one kitchen to another. The Recipe File gathers the dishes that hold memory along with the stories that stay with them. If you have one to share, write to elizabeth. johnson @ jewishcharlotte. org.