Italian Chickpea Miso Glazed Swiss Chard | Bietola Laccata al Miso di Ceci, Kombu e Pepe Sansho
Swiss chard is the most taken for granted vegetable in the Italian kitchen. It is boiled, squeezed, chopped and buried inside a torta or a filling, and it almost never reaches the table as itself. This contorno does the opposite. The stems are braised slowly in a kombu broth until they turn translucent, then lacquered with a glaze built on chickpea miso until the surface goes glossy and dark, and the leaves come back at the end as brittle crisps.
The glaze is the point of the dish. Chickpea miso is a real product, made by fermenting cooked ceci with rice koji and salt instead of soybeans, and it behaves differently from the Japanese original: gentler, sweeter, closer to a chickpea puree left to develop for a year. Reduced with kombu broth, vin cotto and rice vinegar, it becomes a lacquer that clings to a stem rather than sliding off it.
Sansho goes on last, off the heat, and it is not there for heat. It is a citrus scented pepper with a faint numbing quality that lifts the plate at the moment the diner smells it, and cooked it loses both the perfume and the tingle in seconds. This recipe is a matter of sequence: broth, braise, lacquer, pepper, in that order and never together.
Yield: 4 side servings. Prep: 30 minutes. Cook: 45 minutes. Total: about 1 hour 15 minutes. Difficulty: intermediate. Course: contorno, served hot. Vegan as written. Season: autumn through early spring, when chard stems are thick.
The Story
Bietola has been grown along the whole Mediterranean since antiquity and it entered Italian cooking as two vegetables in one plant. The leaf, thin and quick to wilt, became erbette, the green that fills torta pasqualina in Liguria, erbazzone in Emilia and the ravioli of half the peninsula. The stem, the costa, was treated as a separate ingredient altogether, gratinated in Lombardy, fried in Rome, stewed in Piedmont.
What is new here is the ferment, not the vegetable. Over the last fifteen years a serious koji culture has grown up in Italian kitchens, and its most interesting thread has been the use of local legumes in place of soy. Chickpeas, grown in Italy since the Romans and turned into farinata, panelle and cecina, take to koji fermentation well and produce a miso that tastes recognisably of the south rather than of Japan. Several small Italian producers now make it.
Kombu and sansho are the honest borrowings, and this recipe does not pretend otherwise. Italy has always chased the same depth by other routes: colatura di alici in Campania, aged Parmigiano in Emilia, dried porcini everywhere. Kombu is simply the cleanest vegetable source of it, and it lets the dish stay vegan without reaching for cheese or anchovy. The chard, the chickpea and the olive oil keep the plate Italian. The technique comes from elsewhere and is not disguised.
Ingredients
For the kombu broth
Dried kombu, 1/2 oz (14 g), one large piece
Cold water, 4 cups (950 ml)
Dried shiitake, 2
Spring onion, green parts only, 2
For the chard
Swiss chard with thick stems, 2 1/4 lb (1 kg), about 2 large bunches
Extra virgin olive oil, 2 tbsp (30 ml)
Garlic clove, thinly sliced, 1
Fine sea salt, 1/2 tsp (3 g)
For the chickpea miso glaze
Chickpea miso, 3 tbsp (55 g)
Kombu broth, reserved, 1/2 cup (120 ml)
Vin cotto or saba, 1 tbsp (15 ml)
Rice vinegar, 2 tsp (10 ml)
Toasted sesame oil, 1 tsp (5 ml)
Brown sugar, 2 tsp (8 g)
For the crisp leaves
Reserved chard leaves, the smallest ones, about 3 oz (85 g)
Extra virgin olive oil, 1 tbsp (15 ml)
Fine sea salt, 1 small pinch
For finishing
Sansho pepper, ground, 1/4 tsp (0.5 g)
Toasted sesame seeds, 2 tsp (6 g)
Cooked chickpeas, warmed, 1/3 cup (60 g)
Lemon zest, finely grated, from 1/4 lemon
Preparation
Step 1
Draw the kombu broth cold. Wipe the kombu with a dry cloth but never wash it: the white bloom on the surface is mannitol and carries much of the flavour. Put it in a pan with the cold water and the dried shiitake and leave it for at least 2 hours, or refrigerate overnight. Then bring it slowly to 160°F (70°C) and hold it there for 10 minutes before lifting the kombu out. Boiled kombu makes the broth slimy and faintly bitter, and there is no recovering it.
Step 2
Separate the chard. Cut the stems away from the leaves with a knife rather than tearing them, following the rib up into the leaf so no fibrous ridge is left behind. Trim the stems into batons about 3 inches (8 cm) long. Set the largest leaves aside for another use and keep the small tender ones for the crisps. Split stems wider than an inch lengthwise so they braise evenly.
Step 3
Peel the strings from the stems. Run a vegetable peeler down the outer curve of each baton and pull away the coarse fibres, the way you would with celery. This is the step everyone skips and it is the difference between a stem you can cut with a spoon and one that stays stringy however long it cooks. On winter ribs there can be a surprising amount.
Step 4
Braise the stems in the broth. Warm the olive oil in a wide sauté pan over low heat with the sliced garlic, let it soften without colouring, then lay the stems in a single layer. Pour in kombu broth until it comes halfway up, add the salt, cover with a round of parchment pressed onto the surface and cook at a bare simmer for 20 to 25 minutes, until a knife tip slides in with no resistance.
Step 5
Reduce the glaze. While the stems braise, whisk the chickpea miso with half a cup of kombu broth until completely smooth, then add the vin cotto, rice vinegar, sesame oil and brown sugar. Warm it in a small pan over low heat and reduce it by about a third, until it coats the back of a spoon and falls in a thick ribbon. Miso boiled hard loses its aroma and the glaze turns flatly salty instead of round.
Step 6
Crisp the leaves. Heat the oven to 300°F (150°C). Tear the reserved small leaves into pieces, toss them with the olive oil and the pinch of salt, and spread them in one layer on a lined tray. Bake 12 to 15 minutes until brittle and still dark green. Watch them from minute 10: chard goes from crisp to burnt faster than kale, and a scorched leaf tastes of ash across the plate.
Step 7
Lacquer the stems. Lift the braised stems out and drain them on a rack for a minute, then return them to a clean wide pan over medium high heat with two thirds of the glaze. Turn them gently every 30 seconds for about 3 minutes, spooning the glaze back over, until the surface is glossy and dark and the liquid has almost gone. Add a spoonful of broth if the pan dries first.
Step 8
Finish off the heat. Take the pan off the flame, scatter the ground sansho over the stems and turn them once so it is distributed rather than piled. Sansho loses its citrus perfume and its tingle within seconds on direct heat, so this never happens over the flame. Warm the chickpeas in a little broth, add the sesame seeds and the lemon zest, and go straight to the plates.
Plating
This is served hot, straight from the pan, on warmed plates at around 140°F (60°C). The glaze thickens and dulls as it cools and the stems lose their gloss within a few minutes, so unlike most contorni this one has no room to wait.
Lay the stems in a loose parallel line rather than a heap, three or four batons per plate, overlapping slightly so the glossy surfaces catch the light. Spoon the last of the glaze along their length, not underneath, and leave the plate around them clean. Dark stoneware flatters the lacquer far more than white porcelain, which makes the glaze look muddy.
Scatter the warm chickpeas along one side, then stand two or three crisp leaves against the stems at the last possible second. They soften from the steam within a minute of touching anything hot, which is why they go on at the pass. Finish with the sesame seeds and the lemon zest.
Professional Technique
The technical core is the two stage cooking of one vegetable, braise then lacquer, and the reason the stems are drained in between. A stem that goes straight from broth into glaze carries a film of water, and that water dilutes the lacquer and stops it setting, so the pan floods and the stems steam instead of glazing. One minute on a rack removes it. The same applies to the pan: it must be clean and dry.
The second technique is temperature discipline with fermented and dried ingredients. Kombu held above about 170°F (75°C) releases alginates that turn the broth viscous and bring out a bitter iodine note. Miso taken to a boil loses the volatile aromatics that make it smell of anything at all. Sansho on heat surrenders its citrus oil and its tingle in seconds. Three ingredients, three different ceilings, respected in sequence rather than thrown into one pan.
Texture and Moisture Control
Chard stems are mostly water held inside a rigid cell structure, and the braise converts that structure from crunchy to yielding without letting the water out. The parchment round pressed onto the surface does real work: it keeps the stems submerged in a shallow amount of liquid and stops the exposed tops drying while the bottoms overcook. Too much broth and the stems poach and go slack. Too little and the tops stay fibrous while the bottoms fall apart.
The glaze is a sugar and protein film, and it sets by evaporation rather than by thickening. The final three minutes need a heat high enough to drive water off fast but low enough that the sugars do not catch, which on most hobs means medium high with constant movement. When it is right the glaze pulls back from the pan edges in a slow wave. Overdone it goes tacky and smells of caramel rather than miso.
Professional Mise en Place
The broth is the long job and everything waits on it, so start it the day before if you can. The final lacquering takes three minutes and cannot be interrupted.
Equipment and tools
Wide sauté pan for the braise and a second clean one for the lacquer
Instant read thermometer for the kombu broth
Parchment cut into a round the width of the braising pan
Rack over a tray for draining the stems
Small pan and a whisk for the glaze
Prepared ahead
Kombu broth drawn and strained, up to 3 days ahead, refrigerated
Chard stems peeled and cut, up to 1 day ahead, kept in cold water
Glaze whisked but not reduced, up to 2 days ahead
Chickpeas cooked, up to 3 days ahead in their own liquid
Sesame seeds toasted and stored in a dry jar
Service setup
Stems braised and drained on the rack, held warm and uncovered
Glaze reduced and kept warm, loosened with broth if it tightens
Crisp leaves on a dry tray away from every source of steam
Sansho ground to order, never more than an hour before service
Plates warmed before the lacquering begins
Chef Tips
Buy chard for its stems, not its leaves. Bunches sold for greens have thin ribs and give almost nothing to braise, while winter chard and the wide ribbed coste sold separately in Italian markets are exactly what this needs. If the only chard available has narrow stems, double the quantity and accept a great deal of leftover leaf.
Taste the miso before you build the glaze. Chickpea miso varies more between producers than soy miso does, from bright and lemony at six months to dark and almost meaty at two years. A young one needs the full amount of vin cotto. A long aged one is already sweet and deep and needs half, or the glaze turns cloying.
Grind the sansho yourself and grind it late. Pre ground sansho sold in jars has usually lost the volatile oil where the citrus note and the tingle both live. Whole berries keep for a year in a sealed jar and take ten seconds in a spice grinder.
Save the braising liquid. What is left after the stems come out is a light vegetable broth carrying kombu, garlic and chard, far too good to pour away. It keeps for 3 days and makes an excellent base for risotto, for cooking farro, or for warming the chickpeas that go on this plate.
Common Mistakes
Boiling the kombu. Taken past about 170°F (75°C) the seaweed releases alginates and the broth turns viscous and faintly bitter, with a strong iodine smell. Bring it up slowly, hold it at 160°F (70°C) for ten minutes and lift the kombu out before anything simmers.
Skipping the peeling. The outer fibres on a mature chard stem never break down, however long the braise runs, and they leave hard threads in an otherwise tender piece. Strip them with a peeler on every stem wider than a finger.
Glazing wet stems. Broth carried out of the braise dilutes the lacquer and floods the pan, so the stems steam and stay pale instead of going glossy. Drain them on a rack for a minute and use a clean dry pan.
Adding the sansho over the flame. Its citrus oil and its tingling compounds are both volatile and disappear within seconds of touching heat. The pan comes off the flame first, and the pepper goes on after that.
Cooking the glaze too hard. Miso boiled aggressively loses its aroma and the sugars in the vin cotto catch and turn bitter, leaving a lacquer that is salty and dark but tastes of nothing. Reduce gently and stop while it still falls from the spoon.
Wine Pairing
Etna Bianco DOC: Carricante grown on volcanic soil, and the best match here. Its cutting acidity and distinct salinity meet the savoury depth of the miso head on, where a softer white would be swallowed by it. The faint smoky mineral quality also picks up the toasted sesame, and there is no oak to fight the ferment.
Greco di Tufo DOCG: Chosen for structure. Greco has real weight and a slightly waxy texture that stands up to a glaze this concentrated, and its mineral note from the tufo soils works unusually well against umami. Its stone fruit ripeness softens the salt of the miso without making the pairing sweet.
Offida Pecorino DOCG: A Marche white with high acidity and a herbal aniseed edge that runs alongside the sansho rather than competing with it. It has enough alcohol and body to carry the sesame oil, and it finishes dry and slightly bitter, which keeps the sweetness of the vin cotto in check.
Lugana DOC: The gentlest option, for anyone who finds the glaze assertive. Turbiana from the southern shore of Lake Garda gives soft citrus, a saline finish and a texture that coats rather than cuts, and it lets the chard come forward instead of the ferment. Serve it at around 50°F (10°C).
Alto Adige Santa Maddalena DOC: The red for the table, and a Schiava is the only kind that works. It is pale, low in tannin and full of red cherry and violet, and served cool at around 55°F (13°C) it handles the lacquer and the sesame without overwhelming a vegetable. Anything more tannic collides with the miso and turns metallic.
Storage & Reheating
Lacquered stems keep refrigerated in a sealed container for 3 days, and they are good cold as part of an antipasto, sliced thin with a little lemon. The glaze will have set firm and matte, which is expected. The crisp leaves do not keep: after an hour they go leathery, so make only as many as you will serve.
Reheat the stems in a covered pan over low heat with a tablespoon of the reserved broth, turning once or twice, until hot through, about 4 minutes. This reactivates the glaze and brings the gloss back. A microwave dries the surface and leaves the lacquer patchy, and a hot oven makes the stems shrink and toughen.
The kombu broth keeps refrigerated for 3 days and freezes for 3 months in a sealed container, so it is worth making double. The glaze keeps a week refrigerated in a jar and needs a spoonful of warm broth and a whisk before it is usable again. Do not freeze the braised stems: the cell walls collapse on thawing and they come out watery and limp.
Nutrition
Per serving, based on 4 side servings:
Calories: 215 kcal
Total Fat: 12 g
Saturated Fat: 1.8 g
Trans Fat: 0 g
Unsaturated Fat: 9 g
Cholesterol: 0 mg
Sodium: 780 mg
Total Carbohydrates: 20 g
Fiber: 6 g
Total Sugars: 6 g
Added Sugars: 2 g
Protein: 7 g
Lactose: 0 g
Principal micronutrients: vitamin K, vitamin A, magnesium, potassium, iron, iodine, folate
These figures are estimates. Sodium is the one to watch, since almost all of it comes from the miso and producers vary from 8 to 13 percent salt. Taste the glaze before reducing and leave the salt out of the braise if your miso is on the saltier side.
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