Posted on: Wednesday, October 8, 2003

Herb gardener offers sage suggestions

• Turning over a new leaf of sage in a savory style

By Joanna Pruess
Associated Press

Susan Sammon clips sage from her herb garden in Croton-on-Hudson, N.Y. The herb — with its slightly bitter, minty aftertaste — thrives in any sunny location, tolerates poor soil and needs little water. Associated Press photos

Orange, fennel and sage salad makes use of the herb's ability to pair with ingredients of some acidity, cooks say. In this salad, the acidity comes from oranges and balsamic vinegar.

Too often sage, an easy-growing garden herb that likes hot sun and a lot of it, is confined to the stuffing at the holiday table. But once hooked on the herb, you'll discover there are many uses for it, and all sage isn't alike.

A handful of subspecies of garden or common sage, Salvia officinalis, can be used in cooking. Within this small group are grape, honeydew and pineapple sage, each redolent of the fruit whose name it bears.

In my friend Susan Sammon's garden in rural New York state, I pick eight gray-green, velvety leaves from her common sage bush and head into the kitchen where I chop them and mix them with softened butter, minced shallots and a pinch of salt. After chilling, I add dollops of the compound butter to the steaks we grill for dinner.

As the butter melts, the herbaceous immediacy of the flavor takes me back to the first time I tasted a fresh sage leaf. It was delicately batter-dipped and fried and I was standing in Giuliano Bugialli's rustic kitchen in Florence, Italy. The stunning difference in taste between those graceful fresh leaves and the dried or powdered stuff in tins was immediately obvious.

Over the years, I simplified Giuliano's recipe to a basic flour-water coating and have served the crispy snack, drizzled with lemon juice and coarse salt, to legions of friends. Typically I use common sage, but Susan's broadleaf sage would be even more alluring because each leaf is larger. Guests always rave.

While accomplished cooks and gardeners assert that sage is one of the best herbs to dry because it retains its aroma and pungency, there is an appreciable difference in how it is used.

Unless dried sage is slowly simmered, as in a stew or sauce, the dish is apt to retain a musty taste. With the fresh herb, the opposite is true: some of the most exciting tastes evolve when the leaves are used uncooked or just warmed through, as with sage butter.

Sage pesto prepared like the traditional basil sauce and drizzled over roast shoulder of veal is one example where it's impossible to imagine using dried leaves. As the smooth purée of sage and walnuts blends with the pan juices, the flavors meld into an inspired complement to the fork-tender meat.

The herb also takes well to fish, where brief cooking is usually the rule. In oily varieties like salmon, sage cuts the richness. Sage pesto on grilled tuna and sage butter on seared swordfish are both seductive.

For more delicate fish, as in broiled red snapper fillets coated with a crust of minced fresh sage, mushrooms and bread crumbs, the herb imparts just enough flavor and texture to make the dish intriguing. After a quick searing to seal in the juices, the fish is coated with the herb paste and quickly finished under the broiler.

In most recipes where sage is called for, any edible variety works, says David Turk, the owner of Indiana Market & Catering in Manhattan.

However, "pineapple sage is especially appealing for a salad of sliced fennel, red onion and oranges because of its uniquely fruity character," he says. "Sage also responds favorably to being paired with some acidity. In this salad, it's the oranges and balsamic vinegar."

Sage is part of the mint family, and I love the way sage's slightly bitter, minty aftertaste combines with sweet and salty items. When it is fried with a little salt or used in ice cream, its beautiful subtleties are emphasized. It's also the perfect counterpoint to the bite of chili in one of my favorite chicken recipes.

One thing sage doesn't like is a lot of competition from other herbs. Mix it with citrus flavors, mushrooms, cheese or a pantry-full of other ingredients, and it shines. But this herb likes to take center stage, so forget any assertive herbaceous supporting actors like thyme or rosemary.

In one of my personal comfort dishes, a baked yam with butter, salt and ribbons of sage, it stars both visually and in the flavor. Again, the herb shines when I turn leftover Tuscan white beans prepared with pancetta, garlic, sage and olive oil into soup. I purée the bean mixture with chicken stock, add plenty of sautéed wild mushrooms and up the quantity of sage originally used to season the cannellini.

With fresh herbs readily available in supermarkets, finding sage is easier than ever for nongardeners. Although hydroponically grown sage may be less fragrant than what is outside my back door, I'd still use fresh over dry any day.

In spite of its increased visibility, sage is no Johnny-come-lately to the culinary stock pot or medicine cabinet. Batter-dipped sage leaves were served in early Roman times, typically as a digestive after a meal.

Ancient Egyptians used the herb to promote fertility, while all manner of restorative properties have been ascribed to sage tea over the ages. A recent study quoted by the BBC says it promotes a good memory.

From sage tea, it's just a short jump and a few centuries to a sage-infused, lemon-scented ice cream. Ali Barker, executive chef of the Bistro in St. Joseph, Mich. (formerly chef of New York City's Union Square Cafe), prepares a delicately herbaceous frozen dessert that is perfectly balanced with white chocolate swirled with a fresh berry and balsamic vinegar coulis.

The tastes unfold as sweetness is followed by tanginess, which is finished by a refreshing savory sensation, much like the cleansing effect of mint on the palate. Showered with a fine julienne of fresh sage before serving, the appearance is as dramatic as it tastes.

Sage's Latin name, salvia, translates as savior or healer. With such a moniker, it's a good friend to any cook.

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Turning over a new leaf of sage in a savory style

Fried sage leaves, dipped in a batter and drizzled with lemon juice and coarse salt, make a crispy snack or side dish.

Here are some ideas for using sage in dishes that go beyond Thanksgiving stuffing.

Orange, Fennel and Sage Salad

• 2 heads of fennel, cored and thinly sliced
• 1 red onion, julienned
• 3 navel oranges
• 1 bunch (1 ounce) fresh sage plus fresh sage leaves as garnish
• 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
• Arugula leaves, optional

Fennel is an anise-flavored vegetable with a pleasant crunchy texture and not overly assertive flavor that is delightful in salads or braised. Even people who don't care much for licorice or anise can enjoy fennel.

Combine fennel and onion in a bowl. Peel oranges, cut them in half lengthwise and then slice into semicircles. Cut the bunch of sage into chiffonade.

Toss all ingredients gently with the oil and vinegar, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Let stand at least 1 hour before serving. Garnish with additional sage. Serve on arugula leaves, if desired.

Makes 6 servings.

Roasted Chicken with Chili-Sage Glaze

• Two 3-pound chickens, cut in half lengthwise
• 8 fresh sage leaves, plus 3 tablespoons chopped fresh sage
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 1 1/2 cups dry white wine
• 5 tablespoons apple chutney, preserves, jam or jelly
• 5 tablespoons chopped shallots
• 4 tablespoons mild or hot chili powder to taste

Preheat the oven to 400. Starting at neck end of the chickens, slide your fingers between the skin and breasts to loosen the skin. Place 2 sage leaves under the skin of each breast. Sprinkle chickens with salt and pepper. Transfer chickens, skin side up, to a medium roasting pan. Roast for 20 to 25 minutes.

Meanwhile, simmer 3/4 cup of the wine, the preserves and shallots in a small heavy saucepan until the glaze is slightly thickened, about 6 minutes. Stir in the chopped sage and chili powder.

Brush half of the glaze on the chickens and cook for 10 minutes more, then brush with remaining glaze and roast until the chickens are cooked through and the glaze is bubbling, about 10 minutes longer. Transfer to heated platter.

Spoon off the fat from the juices in the pan. Put the roasting pan directly atop two burners over medium heat. Add the remaining 3/4 cup wine and boil until the liquid is reduced by a third, about 5 minutes. Season the sauce to taste with salt and pepper.

Cut the chickens into serving pieces, transfer to a serving platter and spoon the sauce over the chickens.

Makes 6 to 8 servings.

Note: The glaze is also delicious on duck or Cornish game hens.

The following recipe may sound odd, but no more so than green tea ice cream or pepper on strawberries: a sophisticated, grownup ice cream with which to end the meal.

Ali Barker's Sage Ice Cream

• 1 quart heavy cream
• 6 ounces sugar (3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons)
• 12 egg yolks
• 1 teaspoon high-quality lemon extract
• 2 bunches sage leaves plus 16 sage leaves, julienned
• 1/2 pint raspberries
• 1/2 pint blueberries
• 1/2 pint blackberries
• 2 ounces balsamic vinegar
• 2 ounces Chambord (see note)
• 1/4 pound white chocolate

In a 2-quart nonreactive saucepan, combine the cream with half of the sugar, the lemon extract and both bunches of sage, and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Meanwhile, put the remaining sugar in a nonreactive bowl; add egg yolks and mix well.

Once the cream reaches a boil, remove the pan from heat and pour about ¥ of the hot cream into the sugar-egg mixture, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon. Stir the warmed egg mixture into the cream. Over medium heat, continue stirring until the mixture coats the back of the spoon. Remove from the heat and steep for 45 minutes.

Strain the mixture, then transfer it to an ice-cream maker and follow manufacturer's directions. Once it's prepared, mix in about half of the julienned sage leaves by hand and freeze for at least 2 hours.

In a nonreactive bowl, combine berries, vinegar and Chambord, and gently mix with a wooden spoon. Let stand for 2 hours at room temperature, stirring every 1/2 hour.

To serve: Melt the chocolate over a double boiler until pourable, about 5 minutes. On chilled plates, swirl a little chocolate by using two forks and going back and forth. It will harden immediately. Add some berry coulis, and then three small scoops of ice cream. Sprinkle a little of the remaining julienned sage on top and serve.

Makes 6 servings.

Note: Chambord is a French liqueur with an intense black-raspberry flavor.

The simple batter used for the following easy appetizer or garnish works for zucchini flowers and onion rings, as well as sage leaves. I leave the stems on the leaves while dipping them because they're convenient little handles. Serve drizzled with lemon juice and sea salt.

Fried Sage Leaves

• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• Sea salt
• 1/2 cup, or more as needed, sparkling water (or water and 1 tablespoon white wine)
• 16 large fresh sage leaves
• Canola oil for deep frying
• Fresh lemon juice

Turn the oven to warm. Line a baking sheet with paper towels.

Sift the flour into a bowl. Add a generous pinch of salt, then whisk the water, or water and wine, into the flour until it is the consistency of light cream, adding more water if needed. Set aside for at least 15 to 30 minutes.

Pour the oil into a small, heavy skillet to a depth of 1 inch. Heat until hot (about 375 F on an instant-read thermometer; or, if a drop of the batter added to the oil browns immediately, it is ready).

Using the stem as a handle, dip each leaf into the batter, coating both sides. Drop a few leaves into the oil and cook just until golden brown, about 30 to 45 seconds. Remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to the baking sheet. Continue with remaining leaves.

When all leaves are cooked, transfer them on a platter, drizzle with sea salt and drops of fresh lemon juice, and serve.

Makes 4 servings.