Endive is a major crop in my native Northern France. So much so that I never paid it much mind, and now here I am missing it! So come with me on a discovery of this delightful winter vegetable. You’ll find out about its singular cultivation, how to source it, and of course a delicious endive salad recipe to invite this cold-weather crop to your table.
A country of two chicories
In the region of Northern France known as “le Nord,” we are most familiar with two varieties of chicory. One cultivated for its root, from which a coffee ersatz is made, aka chicory root, or simply chicorée. The other grown for its leaves and eaten in both raw and cooked dishes, aka endive — pronounced [on-deev] in French.
You might have had the former if you’ve ever picked up the brown roasted granules at a health food store or maybe as part of a coffee substitute blend. More surreptitiously, I’ve seen it as an additive in granola bars, ice creams, and beverages. In le Nord, we enjoy it as a soothing hot drink. Try it if you haven’t!
The second variety, endive, is fairly rare in the US where the bitter greens market is dominated by the Italian varieties of chicories — radicchio and the likes. (Fun fact, Italians’ way of pronouncing the Latin name “cichorium” is actually why we have the word “chicory” today.)
While I’ve come to love chicories of all kinds, I’m most acquainted with the French endive. In fact, France is the top producer of endive worldwide, and the Northern region produces 95% of that production. We even have a local name for it, chicon, which speaks to its place as a Northern staple.
Most grocery stores in le Nord will carry chicons: from supermarkets to small co-ops; CSA shares will often include some; and of course in the fall and winter, farmers markets will have crates full of them. I especially love how beautiful they look when cradled in the thick, cracked hand of a farmer.
What do endives taste like?
Though endives are everywhere in the North of France, they’re not loved by everyone. For example, as little kids my siblings and I weren’t crazy about them. We found them bitter — which is rarely a compliment coming from a child.
Truth is, endives are not that bitter. They’re actually some of the least bitter in the chicory family, and besides, a little bitterness is a good thing! Not just to vary up flavors, but to vary health benefits. Endives provide fiber, water, and a bunch of vitamin K, among other helpful things.
Slowly but surely they grew on us. By the time I was a teen, endives tasted like home, especially prepared as an endive salad. Mom would slice them up, dress them with a simple vinaigrette, and toss in a few nuts or poppy seeds. In the end, endives were light, delicate, and quite fun to eat!
Low calorie as they are, they’re a bit like a healthier version of iceberg lettuce. They provide a gentle crunch that’s a bit chewy. These subtle qualities lie in the special way they grow.
What makes them special?
Endives, or chicons, don’t exactly grow their pretty spindle shape all by themselves. That’s actually the way they re-grow. Sown outdoors in the spring, they emerge as a bitter head of leafy greens with a big taproot, or “carrot.” In the fall, once the “carrot” has stored enough energy, it’s dug up and trimmed of its leaves. Finally, the stubby thing is moved indoors away from light: to a barn, a basement, a former limestone quarry — or covered up with a tarp, straight in the field.
In this dark and moist environment, the plant grows back a whole new bud: an endive. Since it gets no light, it doesn’t make chlorophyll, and only develops a bit of yellow on the edges (or red for some varieties). Its ghostly appearance sometimes gives it a bad rep, but that doesn’t make it less worthy. Think of white button mushrooms, or even white asparagus!
You can see why endives are so delicate! Their special “forced” life cycle is also what makes them less bitter. A similar growing strategy is applied to other chicories like frisée (curly endive).
Sourcing the ingredients for your salad
Since endives were first cultivated in Belgium, they tend to be called “Belgian Endives.” But endives lack a bit of a following here in the US, so they can be hard to source. Definitely try your local farmers’ market, local grocery store, or even a farm stand if you can. Their availability will depend on the farmer’s crop selection, so it’s a bit of a hit or miss. Keep your eyes peeled for them between fall and early spring.
Other than that, they’re often available at large food stores like Safeway, but they are rarely organic. I’ve had some luck at Whole Foods Market, where they have a California-grown variety. Let me know if you spot them in other places and from different sources!
Outsourcing… or not!
The other day on the phone with my mom, I complained about my issues sourcing this vegetable, and how endives just aren’t as big or crunchy here. (Mainly the result of hydroponic growing methods.) “Well, you can grow them, you know. I can send you seeds. I bet they have some at that seed bank I know.” Then I remembered how she grew them years ago in the basement.
One day, she brought home some big beige roots. She filled buckets with moist sand, stuck the roots in, and set them up in our dank brick-walled basement. Covered with thick black blankets, the setup looked quite mysterious. Mom would tend to her secret garden by keeping the sand moist and would proudly bring up her pale harvest for the day’s endive salad. A habit she picked up and never dropped.
I might just take her advice and try growing some next spring, in which case I’ll report back! Homegrown produce always sounds like the way to go. And what better pleasure than to trim some leaves and toss them in a salad in one fluid motion?
About this recipe
Though endives are often baked in Northern France, the most common way to prepare them is like this, as a salad. It’s true they don’t have the boldest flavor, but this makes them a great canvas on which to lay brighter flavors. Pears, blue cheese, and walnuts are the perfect combo and the most common too.
I used a red d’Anjou pear, which is a Belgian variety — pretty fitted, no? Their pretty red skin adds the dash of color that’s missing in endives. Their natural sweetness balances out the mild bitterness of the chicory, and their amazing taste brightens everything.
Blue cheese is not a specialty of Northern France but is still enjoyed there. It delivers tasty probiotics to feed your gut and your soul! So don’t be scared if you’re a blue cheese hater. Like someone recently told me, “It tastes bad for just a second and then it tastes amazing.” So see what blue cheese you can find in your area — you might have pleasant surprises! Just make sure it’s “grass-fed” to enjoy its full benefits.
If you’re vegan, there are some great nut-based options out there that use the same mold cultures as dairy ones! You could even make your own (here’s a great article on how to do that).
For the final touch, walnuts add crunch and yummy fats. Use pre-roasted walnuts or roast them yourself. This will not only make them crunchier, they’ll also be easier to digest and more flavorful.
Bon appétit!
Beyond endive salad
>>Looking for a warm hearty dish to pair this with? Try my French Green Lentil Stew!
>>Want a simpler salad without all the fixings? Endives or frisées are also great with a classic vinaigrette!
Fall Endive Salad – Salade d’endive automnale
Ingredients
- 2 handfuls plain walnuts – or 1/3 – 1/2 cups
- 2-3 Belgian endives – depending on size
- 1 tsp apple cider vinegar
- 1 tbsp walnut or sunflower oil
- salt to taste
- 1 red d’Anjou pear – just a little soft at the stem but not mushy
- 2 tbsp blue cheese of choice – or to taste
Instructions
- You can roast the walnuts in a 250°F oven or in a pan over low heat, stirring to make sure they don’t burn.
- Slice the endives (I like slightly on the bias). One great thing about endive is that they’re usually free of dirt.
- Slice the pear in half, core it with a spoon, and slice it thinly — or dice it.
- Whisk together the vinegar and the oil. Season to taste with salt (keep in mind the cheese is already salty).
- Gently toss the endive and pear together in a bowl or on a plate and drizzle with the dressing.Scatter the walnuts and blue cheese, crumbling it with your fingers so there are no big chunks in an otherwise delicate salad.Endives are quite tender so they are best eaten right away.