Roasted Butternut Squash, Acorn Squash, and Apple Soup

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For 2018 I hope to be here more than I was in 2017. I’m envisioning more of a journal of sorts, where I can feel free to pop in and say “I just made this for dinner! I’m not apologizing for the bad photos! Here’s the general technique and ingredients so you can make it too, if you so choose!” I’m saying goodbye to weighing vegetables and judiciously measuring out olive oil. Maybe I’ll even share some (gasp!) meaty recipes here. We’re going to write our recipes in real time!

2017 was a strange year for me in that it treated me personally very well and it was still painful to go through. I have a feeling that 2018 is going to be much of the same. Since the last time I checked in here (which was what, August?!?) Aaron and I have moved and started talking seriously about getting a dog. I left cooking professionally and became more focused on writing. And I started to cook seriously at home again for the first time in a year or more. Jobs. They drain you of what you love.

We started 2018 as we mean to go- a chill open house filled with friends, water, and soup. We called it “Yes, Soup for You”, and spent the entirety of New Year’s Day at home, with friends coming and going, sharing food. Aaron made some mulled wine, friends brought treats, and I made three soups- my mom’s chicken chili, a vegan version of this coconut red lentil soup, and a creamy and sweet-but-not-too-sweet roasted squash and apple soup inspired by Smitten Kitchen. It was such a success that we’ve decided that we’re going to do this every year from now on. It’s hard to think of a better place to be than surrounded by lovely people and good food.

I’ll see you more in 2018. May you start as you mean to go.

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Roasted Butternut Squash, Acorn Squash, and Apple Soup

inspired by this recipe over on Smitten Kitchen

The timing for the roasted squash and caramelized onions will depend on how much moisture is in your vegetables, and how much attention you’re paying to them.

Preheat the oven to 400.

Quarter and deseed 1 medium butternut squash, 1 large (or 2 small) acorn squash, and 4 apples. Divide between two cookie sheet (I placed the butternut squash on one and the acorn on another), and drizzle liberally with olive oil, sherry vinegar, salt, and pepper. Place in the oven and roast until the squash is tender and the apples are shriveled, between forty minutes and an hour.

In a large heavy pot over medium heat, melt 2 tablespoons of butter. Add in 4 yellow onions, thinly sliced, and toss well. Cook, stirring occasionally, until they have lost at least half of their volume and are becoming golden in color. Add in 4 cloves of minced garlic and about 2 tablespoons roughly chopped thyme. Continue to cook until the onions are at least amber, though you can take them darker if you desire.

Remove the squash and apples from the oven. Peel away the skin from the squash and roughly chop it into large chunks. Add the peeled squash and the roasted apples to the soup, along with about 1 cup of white wine (if it’s the remainder of a flat bottle of bubbles, so much the better) and 4 cups of vegetable stock. Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer. Simmer for 10 to 15 minutes, just to let the flavors melt together.

Add 1 cup heavy cream and puree soup, either in an upright blender or with an immersion blender. Taste, and adjust the seasonings with sherry vinegar and dark soy sauce as necessary. If it’s too thick, add some more cream or more water (or both). Serve hot, with lots of crusty bread and butter.

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Adzuki Bean, Squash, and Miso Soup

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Yesterday I was debating with Aaron about whether it was really that cold outside. My argument hinged on the fact that my eyes didn’t burn when I walked outside. I may be wearing fur-lined boots, mittens over gloves, and layers of wool, but if I can feel my face then it has to be at least -10 outside. As you may expect, Aaron won.

January is brutal. It’s sharp and cruel. It’s ironic, or perhaps appropriate, that January is the month so many of us are trying to do things better. Survival can be dicey- or at least it feels a bit uncomfortable. But I think that the sharpness of January helps spur us to make changes. For all of January’s hard angles, there’s a sparse brightness that’s beaconing. January is clean and spare. The days are getting longer, minute by minute. The sun is out once again. If we can do well in January, why can’t we do well in any month?

I wrote a bit about New Year’s resolutions in my last post. One of my resolutions is to keep creatively engaged with the work I do. I want to try out new ideas, new techniques, new point of view. To that end I’m going to try and cook from a different book every month. For January, in honor of this spare wildness, I’m using Amy Chaplin’s revered and weighty At Home in the Whole Foods Kitchen. Amy writes passionately about grains, vegetables, beans, and a wide variety of superfoods and condiments that I’ve yet to use. It’s a beautiful book, but most excitingly it’s a fundamentally useful book. And although we play with a lot of the same tools, Amy uses them in a completely different way.

This soup, for instance. If I were to make a hearty winter miso soup, I’d probably caramelize onions in butter, add some squash, kale, and a can of beans, add water, and stir in a tablespoon or two of miso once everything’s cooked all together. I imagine it would be tasty, but it likely wouldn’t end up here.

But Amy’s soup is a beast, hearty and perfect for January. She has you soak then cook adzuki beans from scratch with kombu and shiitake mushrooms, then cooks onions, carrots, and squash in sesame oil. You add in kale, wakame, and 2 types of miso, then stir in a hit of fresh ginger juice. It tastes savory and earthy and sweet and bright. It’s warming and hearty. It’s a soup that’s a match for January, meeting intention for intention and sharpness with warmth.

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Adzuki Bean, Squash, and Miso Soup

adapted from At Home in the Whole Foods Kitchen by Amy Chaplin

This soup calls for a small amount of ginger juice, which is very easy to make at home. Finely grate ginger, then squeeze using either your hands or cheesecloth to extract the juice. For the 4 teaspoons specified, I needed about 2 inches of fresh ginger. As for ingredients, I’ve found kombu, dried shiitakes, and wakame all at both natural food stores and Asian markets.

Serves 4

1/2 cup adzuki beans, soaked overnight
3 dried shiitake mushrooms
1 two-inch piece of kombu
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 medium onion, quartered and thinly sliced
1 medium carrot (or 3 small carrots), halved and thinly sliced on the diagonal
2 cups winter squash, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1 cup thinly sliced kale
2 tablespoons dried wakame
3 tablespoons dark miso
3 tablespoons light miso
4 teaspoons ginger juice
thinly sliced scallions, to serve

Drain and rinse the adzuki beans. In a medium pot combine the beans with the shiitake mushrooms, kombu, and 8 cups of water. Bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer. Cover the pot and cook the beans until they’re tender all the way through, 30-50 minutes. Remove from heat. Remove the kombu and discard. Remove the shiitakes and thinly slice, then return to the pot.

In a large pot warm the sesame oil over medium heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally until the onions are soft, about 3 minutes. Add the carrots and squash and cook for another minute. Add the beans and their liquid and bring everything to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, and cook for 10 minutes. The vegetables should be soft by this point. Add the kale and wakame and cook for another minute. Place both miso into a medium strainer and lower the strainer into the soup. Stir well, so that the miso dissolves into the soup. By the end there will only be husks left of the miso. If you don’t mind a less than perfectly smooth broth, you could add the miso husks to the soup. Stir in the ginger juice and remove from heat. Serve topped with scallions.

 

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Delicata Squash and Kale Salad with Maple Vinaigrette

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I first made this salad for Thanksgiving two years ago. I had seen a delicata squash salad on 101 Cookbooks, and was struck with the idea to adapt the idea a bit. When my mom requested that I make that specific salad for two more parties within a month I scribbled down the recipe and have used the format many times since.

This year Aaron and I are celebrating 4 Thanksgivings- an early Thanksgiving dinner with his parents, a celebratory Thanksgiving celebration with a friend’s family, and two Friendsgivings. Today’s plans include making three different pie crusts, deep cleaning the living room, and debating how many pounds of mashed potatoes is enough for 4 people (I know 2 should be fine, but I’m feeling 5, you know?). This salad’s definitely going to be making an appearance at at least one event.

When I originally developed this recipe I wanted to give this salad a Midwestern feel. When I first started hearing about seasonal eating I was a teenager, and role model of seasonal eating seemed to come only from the South or California. It was both exhilarating and irritating. What was I supposed to eat when I can’t get locally grown oranges in the winter? Now that I’m older and we’ve grown a better network of farmers and distributers the local question is an exciting challenge. As it gets colder I want warming squash and crisp greens that will continue to grow until we hit a deep freeze. I want maple syrup, a product that only comes from cold climates, and strong apple cider vinegar. I want locally made cheese and carefully stored shallots. And no shade meant to the green bean casserole, but using ingredients that are a product of the place I live feels like a more true representation of Thanksgiving. I am thankful for the food that feeds me and the place that produces them. And I am thankful we have a specific time meant to celebrate our food and our home.

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Delicata Squash and Kale Salad with Maple Vinaigrette

Delicata squash, if you haven’t seen it, is long and pale gold, with vibrant orange and green stripes. It looks a bit like if a zucchini got a winter makeover, and when it’s roasted it’s mild and nutty and creamy. The skin is edible, which is fortunate because it’s beautiful. Lacinato kale is also known as dinosaur kale (or cavolo nero) because of its bumpy appearance. This will still be delicious with the more common curly kale, but you will want to massage it more aggressively.

adapted from 101 Cookbooks

Serves 4-6 as a side

1 cup walnuts
1 delicata squash, halved, seeds removed. and sliced into 1/4 inch slices
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
4 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons maple syrup
1 shallot, thinly sliced
salt and pepper
1 large bunch of lacinato kale, stems removed and leaves torn
2 radishes, thinly sliced
Parmesan cheese, for shaving

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Spread the walnuts onto a baking tray and toast in the oven for 8 minutes, until the walnuts are golden and rich tasting. Set aside.

Raise the oven temperature to 425. Toss the delicata squash in 1 tablespoon of olive oil and 1/4 teaspoon both of salt and pepper. Spread onto a baking tray, making sure the squash has plenty of room. Roast until tender and darkened on one side, 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl whisk together the apple cider vinegar, maple syrup, and shallot with the remaining three tablespoons of olive oil. Season generously with salt and pepper. The vinaigrette should have enough acid to feel it in the back of your throat.

In a large bowl toss the kale with half of the dressing and massage well. Keep rubbing the kale until it feels softened, and has turned a glossy dark green.

When you’re ready to assemble the salad, add the squash and the radishes to the kale and toss with the rest of the dressing. Transfer the salad to its serving container, and top with the toasted walnuts and shaved parmesan.

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Baked Pasta with Acorn Squash, Butter Beans, and Kale

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It’s that time of year now 6pm is as dark as midnight, and there are less people about at night. Last night I was heading home from Mass, a fifteen minute walk. As I started walking I fired off a text to Aaron. And then I saw out the corner of my eye an older man cross the street and fall into step behind me.

I could see his reflection in the dark store windows. When I slowed my steps to feint admiration for bridal gowns, his steps slowed. When I sped up he did the same. When I started to avoid leaves and quieted my footsteps his became near silent. And when I turned away from the park that would lead me home and towards a bustling strip of restaurants he turned as well.

I abandoned subtlety and started looking back, making sure he knew I saw him. There were more people about here, and it was brighter lit, and I could still see him bobbing through the crowds. An alternate route home would take twice as long to walk, and wouldn’t be much safer. Feeling frustrated and slightly foolish, I called Aaron.

“I think there’s someone following me. Can you pick me up?”

I looped back to the church, where I waited in the lobby. Aaron was over in a matter of minutes. The whole time, I could not shake the feeling that I had overreacted. Was I just being ridiculous? That did not stop me from scrolling through local new sources on twitter before bed, hoping not to hear of some other woman alone being attacked.

I’m tired of this. I’ve long since observed the cardinal rules about caution- don’t walk anywhere poorly lit, don’t take shortcuts, memorize the faces of people you see, always have an escape route. I’m tired of having to take these precautions. I’m tired of being catcalled. I’m tired of reflexively listening to footsteps. And I’m tired of the truth that if I had been attacked, there would have been people who insist that it was my fault, that by somehow walking home alone (at 7:30, from church) I was inviting an attack on my person.

It’s a microcosm of how I’ve been feeling this election. I joke with friends that I’ll exhale once the election is over. But it’s not a joke. Weeks ago when the Access Hollywood tape was released I met it with resignation. When there was an uproar in Republican ranks that made me angry. This is a man who has threatened so many. Why is this is the line in the sand that you decided?

There has been such ugliness and such hatred in the recent months. Tomorrow cannot come soon enough. It won’t make everything better, but it may be a turning point, and that’s all I can hope for right now.

I have no good answers for this. There’s no recipe that can create civil public discourse, no cookie that makes women feel safe to move through public spaces unharmed. Soup won’t end wars. But food has always been a touchstone for me.

Today, a day after being followed and a day before the election, I’ve turned to cooking. It’s serving as a  comfort and as a way to keep busy. If I’m occupying myself with food, I can’t endlessly refresh fivethirtyeight. And I can’t single handedly fix our electorate but I can feed people. The optimist in me believes that enough shared meals with enough people can help us change the way we view the other.

This is not a one pot dinner or a thirty minute meal. This has multiple components and loads of dirty dishes. If that’s what you’re not looking for, that’s more than fair. I understand. But if you’re looking for something that will occupy and sooth you, you could do worse thank this. Roasted acorn squash, sautéed kale, sage, and a clever sauce of blended beans all get tossed together with pasta. The pasta gets turned out into a pan and topped with walnuts, more sage, and ricotta cheese. The result is melty and comforting, creamy and full of flavor.

Stay sane, stay safe. And may there be many comforting meals heading your way.

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Baked Pasta with Acorn Squash, Butter Beans, and Kale

If you would like a very creamy pasta bake I would use two cans of butter beans rather than the suggested one.

very roughly adapted from A Modern Way to Eat by Anna Jones

Serves 6

1 medium acorn squash, peeled, deseeded, and cut into 1/2 inch cubes
7 tablespoons olive oil, divided
salt and pepper
1 pound short pasta of choice
1 bunch of kale, stems removed and finely sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 15 ounce can butter beans with their liquid
zest and juice of 1 lemon
3 tablespoons sage, minced
1 cup walnuts, roughly chopped
1/2 cup ricotta

Preheat the oven to 425.

In a bowl toss together the acorn squash, 2 tablespoons olive oil, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Roast in the oven for 20 minutes, or until tender. Set aside. Turn the oven down to 350.

Set a large pot of water to boil. Salt the water generously, then add the pasta. Cook at a rolling boil, stirring occasionally, for two minutes less than the pasta package calls for. Drain while there’s still some bite in the center of the pasta. Set aside.

In a medium pot warm 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium heat. Add the kale and stir, cooking until the kale is glossy, dark, and has collapsed a bit. Add the garlic, red pepper flakes, and a pinch of salt and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. The garlic should be fragrant. Set aside.

In a blender combine the butter beans and liquid, 3 tablespoons olive oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Blend until smooth and taste. Adjust seasoning as necessary. Set aside.

In a large bowl combine the squash, pasta, kale, bean sauce, and 2 tablespoons of sage. Mix well. Turn out into a 9 x 13 pan. Top the pasta with dots of ricotta, walnuts, and the remaining tablespoon of sage.

Bake 45-55 minutes, until the edges are crisp and the ricotta is golden. Eat hot.

 

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