Code green

     Care for some spinach? Can I sprinkle a little danger on your meal? It’s a very tasty spice.

     The Japanese revere fugu – a pufferfish whose skin and internal organs are so deadly poisonous that the chefs who clean and serve it need a special license. Even the smallest contamination can be deadly, so ordering it is an act of bravura.

     Every year, it kills about 70 to 100 people in Japan. Yet it is a rare, sought-after delicacy. The fear factor adds enormously to its appeal.

     I’ve never tried it. (I haven’t played Russian roulette either.) I’m a bit too risk-averse for that. Sure, the potential of imminent death adds piquancy – but everyday life is dangerous enough for me.

     If stone age man had exercised the kind of caution we do today, the race would have died of starvation long ago.

     I am in awe of ancient peoples and their bravery in the face of a world filled with invisible food enemies. How many died before the first person figured out which mushrooms wouldn’t kill you? Who was intrepid enough to experiment with removing the deadly prussic acid from cassava roots? Who bred the cyanide out of almonds? For that matter, who ate the first pufferfish (and survived)?

     Some foods aren’t poisonous, just so nasty it’s hard to believe they made it onto the plate. Have you ever made the mistake of tasting an olive straight from the tree? Who was foolhardy enough to overcome that bitter memory and persevere to discover curing? How hungry do you have to be to eat snails, or to try raw oysters for the first time?

     We don’t face the same perils today. Modern food comes to us inspected, stamped, packaged, processed and refrigerated, backed by knowledge of chemistry and germs and bacteria. Still, despite all that, every once in a while the microbes win. Who hasn’t had at least a tummy ache or an upset stomach we blamed on something we ate?

     Despite the progress we’ve made, the recent spinach-related outbreak reminds us it’s still a dangerous world out there. The enemy is sneaky and persistent, and ready to mutate at any time.

     At some deep level, I believe we modern folks get a secret thrill from flirting with that danger — as witness our interest in the blazing headlines and media blitz that accompanied the spinach story. We know we dodged a bullet this time — and we kind of like to be reminded of it.

     How else do you explain the proliferation of uselessly reassuring food labels?

     I picked up a Greek salad at the grocery store takeout counter last week. “Contains no spinach,” it proudly proclaimed. Well, yeah. Spinach isn’t generally an ingredient in Greek salad.

     The label mostly served to remind me that one or more of the ingredients might in fact turn out to be hazardous. It made me worry. And what a flavor enhancer that was!

     Just think, the lettuce could easily have grown in a contaminated field neighboring the spinach! Or been dusted with pesticides! The person packing it could have had a cold! The oil in the dressing could have been tainted! And that doesn’t include the extra little dangers I could spice it up with at home.

     If they truly wanted to protect me, then instead of offering reassurance that I was safe from marauding spinach, they could have reminded me to wash my hands, and warned me not to let the salad sit out on the counter for an hour, or add that piece of over-the-hill chicken to it, or cross-contaminate it with a dirty fork.

     No, I didn’t add extra bullets to the chamber by doing any of those things (at least, not this time, though I’ve certainly been guilty of all of them in the past). The label with its implied danger was seasoning enough.

     Lunch tasted great, and I’m relieved to say that I survived a thrilling and potentially hazardous salad encounter without incident.

     But risk is addictive. I’ve discovered my inner cavewoman. In fact, I’ve become such an adrenaline junkie that I’m heading out to the store now.

     Who needs fugu when spinach is back on the shelves?

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In case you are ready to put your toe back in the water, I have adapted a classic Greek spinach and rice dish, Spanakórizo. It’s a delicious way to reintroduce spinach to your table. (Sorry, fellow risk-takers. The spinach is cooked to death, so there is nothing to worry about.)

Spanakórizo (Greek Spinach and Rice)

1 pound fresh or frozen spinach

1 medium onion, finely chopped

1/4 cup Greek extra-virgin olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/3 cup long grain rice

1/2 teaspoon salt or to taste*

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1/2 teaspoon dried dill

1 cup chicken stock or water

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 – 2 fresh tomatoes, chopped

1/2 cup fresh mint leaves, chopped (or substitute fresh dill)

2 – 3 ounces crumbled feta cheese

1 – 2 lemons

Thoroughly wash and destem the spinach and tear or chop the leaves into small pieces, or thaw frozen chopped spinach.

In a saucepan, heat the olive oil and sauté the onion and garlic over medium heat for about 10 minutes, until they are cooked and golden. Add the rice, dill, salt and pepper and cook for a few minutes, stirring to coat the rice. Add spinach, and cook until wilted. Dissolve the tomato paste in the chicken stock or water and stir the liquid into the pan. Cover and simmer for 30 – 35 minutes, until rice is soft.

Stir in the chopped tomato and mint. Cook just long enough to heat through, then transfer the spinach to a serving dish. Squeeze 1/2 a lemon over the dish, then sprinkle liberally with feta. Garnish with lemon wedges.

Serve as a hearty side dish or a light vegetarian main dish.

 *Feta is quite salty, and it provides a lot of the salt in this dish. If you cut back or eliminate the feta, be sure to increase the salt during cooking.