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As an avid grower of Asian herbs and vegetables in the home myself, I’m always fixated on the versatility and utility of whatever I’m growing. After all, part of why I dove headfirst into this hobby is because I wanted to have more access to the Asian herbs and vegetables I love eating—especially the stuff I can’t easily source where I live in Chicago (fun fact: I’m based out of a neighborhood where, unfortunately, there aren’t a ton of Asian grocery stores within walking distance). It’s for that reason, actually, that my Roman Empire lately has been how and why some Asian vegetables like bok choy and napa cabbage have become common staples in the produce aisle of mainstream markets—but, on the other hand, others like celtuce, amaranth, or shiso remain comparatively enigmatic despite being incredibly versatile and easy to grow in Northern climates.
It’s also why I find myself drawn to the work Stéphanie Wang does as the proprietress of Le Rizen, currently the only organic farm in Québec that exclusively grows Asian vegetables. She and her small, but mighty team grow 40+ varieties of Asian vegetables and herbs, which run the gamut from mustard greens and luffa to chrysanthemum greens and Malabar spinach. Many of these plants also find their way into several varieties of ready-made products—kimchis, curry pastes, sambal included, but even a mizuna pesto and a shiso-amaranth ketchup—they sell at in-person markets as a way of not only introducing these plants to the general public, but showcasing their delicious range and versatility.
Stéphanie’s deep-rooted knowledge forms the foundation of the book “Asian Vegetables”—and though it came out later last year, I’ve continuously found myself going back to this information-rich resource throughout the growing season for nuggets of wisdom on cultivating my own indoor and outdoor gardens, planning what to grow, warding off insects and disease, nourishing soil, protecting my crops, and especially making creative use of my bounty come harvest day. Celtuce, adored for its thick, crunchy stem, is pickled with spice to later serve with noodles or salads, or lightly blanched and served with dungeness crab, mint, and goat milk yogurt. Shiso’s aromatic leaves lend their vibrant, citrusy flavor to a lychee sorbet and pink lemonade, as well as add freshness and zest to laab and spring rolls with duck. Chrysanthemum leaves are used in an egg-based vegetarian filling for Chinese flatbreads (bing), or stir-fried with plenty of aromatics.
The book’s also co-written by Stéphanie’s sisters, Caroline and Patricia (a dietician and a musician respectively, both also based in the Québec area), who, despite working in different fields, lend their own lived experiences and expertise to this project. Alongside practical advice are essays from the Wang sisters explaining the cultural significance of these plants and foods within their own family; their recipes reflect three generations’ worth of stories of people immigrating from China to Madagarscar, and later settling down in Canada. “Asian Vegetables” isn’t just a gardening guide, it’s a cookbook and a story that explores the Wang family and the food of their Cantonese upbringing. Before we jump into today’s recipe, I’m sharing a snippet from a conversation I had with Stéphanie the other day on Le Rizen’s roots (pun very much intended here—sorry, I’ll go ahead and show myself the door), the impetus for her family cookbook project, and what goes into growing and marketing vegetables relatively unfamiliar vegetables. Here’s me and Stéphanie:
Photo by Olivier Bourget
Here’s me and Stéphanie:
What led you to start Le Rizen? And what drew you specifically to gardening?
I’d studied sociology because I was really attracted to environmental justice issues. During my studies, I had the chance to take some months off to travel—first to backpack through China for nine months, and that was really awesome to just reconnect with our culture. My grandparents are Cantonese, but our parents grew up in Madgascar. (That’s why we speak French, because there was a colony there at the time). I then went to India for 10 months and volunteered with La Via Campesina to focus on peasant rights. That was really a time when I connected more with farmers, learned more about agriculture, and came to understand issues in food sovereignty. When I came back to Canada, I continued my involvement with La Via Campesina—but at one point, I felt the need to start my own project, a project that would have my own colors. Growing organic Asian vegetables was a good idea. It was pretty new at the time; nobody was doing it—and I’m still pretty much the only one in Québec really specializing in it. We grow 40 varieties of plants, and in addition sell processed products like kimchi, pesto, sambal, and curry paste, and even host workshops. The farm is small, but pretty diverse. We like to create and innovate.
A few years ago, I was doing CSA baskets and I had the idea to ask my oldest sister, Caroline, who's a dietitian, to write some facts on these Asian vegetables so that my customers would know what vegetables they had in their basket and how to cook them. After two seasons, we had quite a few of these fact sheets—and then I felt like, ‘Oh, this is really interesting information that is not really easily available, especially in French.’ There were some books and resources, mostly in English, about growing Asian vegetables. But it was very hard to find anything in French. So we had the idea of doing a book, and we were very lucky that our publishing house was really excited about this project. They really took us by the hand, and two years later we had a book published. We wanted to feature 15 vegetables, and for our choices to be diverse. We have some that are more known like Napa cabbage, bok choy, Asian eggplant, and some that are less known. We have some that are easy to grow, and some that are more challenging. Some that like cool weather, and some that like the hot. So, you’ve really got something for everyone.
Tell me about the thought process behind wanting to grow Asian vegetables specifically, you know, as opposed to produce that's arguably more familiar to North American growers and eaters.
It was really a choice to do something new, and also for a way to get to know more about these vegetables and the culture behind them. My mom only sometimes cooked Asian dishes; it’s not like we were eating Chinese food all the time. Of course, I grew up with bok choy, Asian eggplant, and Napa cabbage—but throughout this journey, I’ve gotten to learn about so many more varieties like Malabar spinach, okra, amaranth leaves, and lemongrass; all of those actually grow really well here. Growing these Asian vegetables is a way to diversify our plate (different textures, different colors) and our farms (more variety of plants to grow in each season, as opposed to sticking with the same vegetables that go to seed too quickly). It makes things more interesting for farmers, for cooks, and for restaurants.
Vegetables like Malabar spinach, mustard greens, and chrysanthemum that are so beloved by the Asian people across the world. But, in your perspective, why do you feel like these vegetables haven’t become “mainstream”—as opposed to other Asian vegetables like napa cabbage or bok choy? And how do you normally respond to customers who are interested, but express trepidation in cooking these vegetables?
When my sisters and I were writing the book, one of the things we found was that names often caused confusion. We hear “bok choy” romanized differently (“bok choy” vs. “pak choi”) and a lot of people think it’s two different vegetables. I think even seed catalogs maintain this confusion because they present them as two different vegetables—but they’re only different cultivars. I’ll explain to [customers] how to prepare them, and most of the time it’s very simple. You can prepare them as you would other vegetables—eat them raw, or steam, bake, stir-fry them. Most of them are very versatile. I’ve got lots of recipes on my website, and in the book as well.
Photo by Olivier Bourget
How do you choose which vegetables you grow on the farm? Any favorites among your customers?
A bit of everything. [Customer] demand is important, of course. But we can be creative because, once we talk about the vegetables and explain how to cook them, people try them. Most of the time, they’ll come to love it. It’s also about what grows well in our climate, because there are things we really love that unfortunately don’t react well to our soil and the temperature, so we can’t keep growing them. Planning around the seasons is important because we have a long winter, so we find a good balance between the short succession of greens and the longest-growing crops, which we plant in the spring and harvest starting July. It’s in our identity, we can’t we can’t help but always try experimenting with new crops. This season, we’ll be having ash gourds. Last year, we introduced water spinach. It’s what keeps us and our customers excited. Choy sum’s very popular [with our customers] because it’s so sweet. It’s beautiful, the yellow flowers. You can eat it raw or cooked, people really love it. Stuff like that and gai lan are things you never would’ve found before I started growing them. Now it’s like a staple for a lot of people.
This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.
Below, I’m including a recipe from “Asian Vegetables” for these chrysanthemum pesto noodles, courtesy of Caroline and Patricia. Chrysanthemum’s herbaceous, mildly grassy taste makes it a fun plant to turn into pesto. Serve over some rice noodles (or really, any kind of pasta will do here), and you’ve got a great plant-based meal that’s perfect for the summer. Note that this recipe yields a chunkier pesto—if you’d like a creamer, smoother sauce, blending all the ingredients in a food processor is the way to go. Chrysanthemum has generous foliage and is an excellent choice for your garden, but if you can’t grow your own, no worries—store-bought is fine, too 😉 It can be easily sourced from just about any Asian grocery store. If you’ve got a ton of chrysanthemum left, they’re fabulous in soups and salads, especially when the greens are parboiled and served with a cold sesame dressing.
Photo by Emilie Gaudreault
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Put the edamame in a pot with 4 cups of water. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer until the edamame are tender, about 5-7 minutes. Drain, then set aside.
Cook noodles according to package instructions. Drain, then set aside.
In a bowl, combine the chrysanthemum, garlic, ginger, sesame seeds, rice vinegar, soy sauce, lime juice, maple syrup, and black pepper. Mix, and then gradually add the oil while continuing to stir.
Add the pesto and the edamame to the noodles, then stir gently with a spatula or chopsticks.
Garnish with raw vegetables (i.e. quartered cherry tomatoes, grated carrot, finely sliced radish, etc.) or serve with raw vegetables on the side.
