Thanksgiving Pie

No words here folks... too busy chewing... Hapfey Tanksgibbing.

No-Fault Pumpkin Pie
from the New Moosewood Cookbook by Mollie Katzen

2 cups cooked, pureed pumpkin or squash (canned pumpkin is fine)
1/4 cup white sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons molasses
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves or allspice
2 teaspoons cinnamon
2 teaspoons powdered ginger
3/4 teaspoons sea salt
2 beaten eggs
1 cup evaporated milk
1 unbaked 9-inch pie crust

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Place pumpkin or squash puree in a medium-sized bowl, and add all other filling ingredients. Beat until smooth.

Spread into the pie crust and bake at 375 for 10 minutes. Turn the oven down to 350 and bake another 40 minutes, or until the pie is firm in the center when shaken lightly.

Cool at least to room temperature before serving. This pie tastes very good chilled, with rum or vanilla spiked whipped cream, or some high-quality vanilla ice cream.

Just Another Sunday

At the Market

Every Sunday morning, I roll out of bed and walk over to our bedroom window. I spread the blinds with my thumb and forefinger, stick my nose through the hole and squint my eyes up toward the sky. Then what follows is either a "Do'oh! Still raining" or a "Woohoo! Sunshine" or a "Hmmm, looks a little cloudy out there." I suppose I'm the official weather reporter for 4753 Delridge.

This morning was definitely a 'woohoo' day, which meant that our morning would have a bit more energy radiating onto and into whatever we did. The coffee Mark made today was pumpkin spice. We never drink the flavored stuff, but I must admit that it exceeded my expectations for pre-ground flavored coffee. After we took in all the caffeine we could handle, we spontaneously got into a 'discussion' (which is really what we like to call an argument) about what furniture would go where and why in our new house (which isn't even ours yet, as the lease still hasn't been signed). Yes, that sunshine brings all kinds of energy with it - or maybe we both just had a bit much caffeine.

We worked out all our frustrations (okay, almost all) at the gym. We go to the gym just about every Sunday. We both lift weights and put in our one hour time block for the weekend so we can walk around the rest of the week saying "gosh, I'm sore" and "feel these abs, baby" and "c'mon, hit me right here." I don't cherish my gym time really, but I know it needs to be done. Kind of like washing the dishes.

We then went our separate ways to work on those things we love best. Mark went to a friend's place to play music, and I went to the farmer's market. The sunshine meant everybody was out with me, stocking up on vegetables, pumpkins and turnips for Thanksgiving. I loaded up on apples so I could bring both a pumpkin and apple pie to dinner at Michelle's this year. The West Seattle Farmer's Market is my favorite Sunday ritual, besides the coffee drinking and those fun 'discussions' I get to have with my significant other. It's my time to walk through slowly, taking time to look at all the amazing things that come from Vashon Island, Carnation and the woods... somewhere. The foragers have been displaying some pretty awesome fungi this Fall. The mushrooms they find come from all those pine forests Washington is famous for. Today I saw giant chantarelles, hedgehogs and even black truffles! I had no idea that this area had their own version of this famous and expensive 'shroom. But instead of the hundreds of dollars per ounce you'd see for truffles from Europe, these were $8 per. Maybe next time I'll treat myself to a bit of black gold.

I made my way home with my bounty - but wishing I could have taken home a few of those expensive things that I simply cannot justify right now being a student... like dried fresh heirloom beans, those truffles, and a few fillets of Alaskan salmon from Loki.

I lamented the few hours left in the day, as I began to work on my computer, writing and planning for a couple of upcoming classes I'm teaching (I'll keep you in the loop). Just one more hour of daylight and I could have gotten in a short bike ride to the water, or maybe a walk over to the Delridge P-patch to gawk at some rainbow chard. Instead I work, and then start to make dinner before Mark gets home. A simple meal that I've mentioned before, but one of our fav's; buckwheat soba with peanut sauce and tofu.

We sit eating dinner and we're both exhausted. We've had a full weekend of socializing and being out late. An open house at the Henry Gallery on Friday, and then wine tasting and dinner with friends on Saturday. I'm tired but contented, because seeing friends is very much worth the fatigue.

It's a short week this week, so have a fantastic Thanksgiving everyone. I'm grateful for you, for food, for friends who drink wine, for 'discussions' that may be fights, and for this blog where I get to share it all. The good, the bad, and the bread that just won't rise.

A Dish to Look Forward To

Something to look forward to.  I always need something to look forward to, to get me excited when I'm feeling that cool, grey weather dreariness.  Yes, I know it isn't very buddhist-in-the-moment of me to say it, but looking forward to something, anything is just what gets me through the week when I feel stuck in the hamster wheel of my life.  Wake up. Run 6 miles in the dark.  Walk to work.  Work.  Walk home.  Have dinner with Mark.  Talk about the day and the rain.  Watch it get dark before 5.  Wish that I didn't have to get up and do it all again the next day.  Sigh.  Do it all again.

No, my life isn't awful, or really even that difficult... it's just the weather and the routine that could make anybody feel a little sodden right now.

Sometimes that something is simply thinking about that nice little kiss that Mark will give me when he walks in the door.  Sometimes it's my favorite television show full of blood, medical drama, sex and McDreamy (attention Grey's Anatomy producers:  you run the risk of losing a viewer if you fail to incorporate a hot dietitian character into the next season.)  Sometimes it's making Friday night plans to do happy hour at our favorite haunt, and other times it's picturing myself curled up in a blanket and reading a book that takes me far, far away.  

But sometimes, I agree to break out of the monotony by engaging my creativity - and of course this involves food.  This week I started with an ingredient:  wild rice.  Then I started layering ideas on top of that rice. What about something sweet?  What's in season?  What color would be exciting?  Pomegranates. Check.  Then something acidic, to give it some tang... oranges, with their zest!  Now this dish is starting to scream fall.  And then some walnuts and sage... and this may even be one to add to my cookbook.  Cookbook?  Oh yes, that's another thing I tell myself to look forward to; my future and very imaginary cookbook, published by a well-known house, promoted by the Food Network (this comes after my own show, of course) and getting publicity through Gourmet magazine and while we're at it - Oprah. (Hey, this is my fantasy-slash-coping mechanism. Deal with it.)

As I bring myself down from a creative gastronomic reverie, and remind myself that a rice salad won't bring me fame and fortune, I pick up the ingredients from the market, put them into my clunker car, and head home. Beautiful food shared with others is something to look forward to, even without a pristine photo layout and endorsement by talk show hosts... but it would help.

So here's my effort, shared with you, my adoring and multitudinous fans!  A colorful, delicious and nutritious dish, endorsed by the folks in the bamboo hut, featured and promoted in Seattle Sundays, and eaten by me. Enjoy, as I've been looking forward to this moment all week.

Wild Rice with Pomegranate and Sage

Serves 6

This dish may scream fall, but the colors remind me of Christmas.  This dish would go well with any holiday meal.  You could try this with cranberries either fresh or dried in place of the pomegranate, but why not make an excuse to explore this exotic fruit?  They aren't as complex as they seem... just go here to learn more. The wild rice I used is of this type by Lundberg organic.  If you want to substitute a wild rice blend, I'm sure that would turn out yummy as well.    

2 1/3 cups water 

8 oz Lundberg organic wild rice

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 teaspoon orange zest

Juice from 1 medium orange

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/4 cup fresh sage, chopped fine

 1/2 cup pomegranate arils

2/3 cup broken walnut halves, toasted

In a medium saucepan, bring the water to a boil.  Add 1/2 teaspoon of the sea salt and the wild rice.  Stir once, bring the rice back to a boil, then reduce to medium-low heat and cover to cook for 45 minutes.  Do not stir!  You'll know the rice is done when you lift the lid and tip the pot to one side, showing no pooling water, meaning it has all been absorbed.  

While the rice is cooking, zest the orange to gain the 1 teaspoon of orange zest, then juice it into a small bowl. Add the zest, then the olive oil, minced sage, and 1/2 teaspoon of the sea salt.  Stir to combine.

Open the pomegranate to remove its arils.  Set aside 1/2 cup of the arils.  Toast the walnut pieces either on the stovetop or in the oven until lightly browned and fragrant.

When the rice is done cooking, add the orange juice and sage mixture, and then the walnuts and the pomegranate arils.  Stir and serve warmed.  

  

Friendship Pumpkin Soup

My friend Michelle gave me two whole sugar pie pumpkins a few weeks ago. Michelle is a gardener and a foodie, and a generous one too. She dropped them off on the way to her wine and food pairing class (she’s a wino like me, we met working at NHJ winery) and in an ironic exchange I gave her two gluten-free pumpkin raisin muffins made with pumpkin from a can. Poor girl, goodness knows it wasn’t a fair trade, but I just had to give her something for her generosity.

They are two beautiful, perfectly round, basketball orange gourds. So pretty I didn’t want to use them right away – why would I do that when I have nary a piece of seasonal décor in our little house? I put one on top of the television and one on the bookcase. There are few flat surfaces not yet occupied in our hut. So there they sat, looking so sweet, reminders that now’s the time for baking sweet things.

This Sunday, after looking at them for a few weeks and wondering just how many pumpkin pies I could sucker out of them, I decided it was time to make some food. I desperately wanted to make up the perfect pumpkin pie for you, my friends, but we’ve been eating enough sweets around here lately to make me think twice about generating yet another dessert for our fridge. Besides, I could always make up a pumpkin pie later, when Thanksgiving is just a few weeks away. I’d surely have enough pumpkin to freeze, and enough to make up some pumpkin muffins too (though these will surely have more soul).

Pumpkin is one of my favorite things. Just last week you could find me moaning over a pumpkin cake doughnut someone told me I just had to try. Last week Mark and I split a seasonal Pumpkin Ale from Elysian Brewing Company here in Seattle (which was fabulous, pumpkin-y with a hint of nutmeg). I got to the farmer’s market late today, and by one o'clock the pasta guys had run out of their pumpkin ravioli, otherwise I would have bought a little bit to complete my week-long pumpkin binge. Chances are, if it has pumpkin as an ingredient, I’m in.

The pies would have to wait, but what about a hearty pumpkin soup? I’ve made butternut squash soup and gingered carrot soup which are lovely on a cool Fall day. Pumpkin soup might be good, with garbanzo beans and a sweet and savory spicy curry. I split both of the pumpkins in half, scraped out the innards and laid them face down in a baking dish. There is something so terribly familiar, so evocative about cut fresh pumpkin. It’s that pungent jack-o-lantern smell that you first smelled as a kid. About a month ago I was doing my daily run along the running path, red and gold leaves overhead and beneath my feet. Blue skies and sunlight - everything around me sighed like Fall. I caught a whiff of something… so… familiar. Right away I knew what it was. Pumpkin guts! I looked quickly to my left and there on a back porch, 50 feet away was a dad and his two kids and five pumpkin carcasses laid a mess. There’s just no mistaking that smell. I could have been another 50 feet away and still have recognized those pumpkins.

I set a pot of water to boil, added roughly chopped carrots and onions, and later some dried garbanzo beans and kombu. After the beans softened, I add a chopped apple. The pumpkin was roasted and cooled by this time. I took a small forkful of orange flesh and mashed it against the roof of my mouth. It was sweet and soft and wonderful. This will make a fantastic soup.

This was Slow Food for sure. I spent most of my Sunday buying kale at the farmer’s market, roasting the pumpkins and then letting those beans soften up for hours. I don’t always plan to spend most of my Sundays making food, but seemingly the food makes plans for me. I begin with an idea, and the vegetables willfully take over.

This time I won’t share a recipe with you, as this soup was so much of a little of this and a little of that, but I’d be happy to list out the ingredients and let your own vegetables take over the plans. All I can say is that the richness of the pumpkin and the variety of spices make this one of my best soups yet.

Maybe Michelle will accept a bit of this soup as a fair trade – Michelle, what do you think? Let’s pair it with a nice gewurztraminer and talk pies.

Friendship Pumpkin Soup

Water or stock

Carrots

Large onion

Apple

Dried garbanzos

Kombu

Garlic

Roasted pumpkin

Olive oil

Kala masala spice mix

Cumin

Turmeric

Sliced fresh ginger

Moroccan spice mix (coriander, cinnamon, cumin, mint)

Freshly grated nutmeg

Nutritional yeast

Cayenne or other ground hot pepper

Ground Black Pepper

Shoyu

Kale

Fluffy Buckwheat Pancakes

Oh buckwheat, how I adore thee… let me count the ways.

1 Buckwheat crepes (also called gallettes) with spinach, mushroom and cheese
2 Toasted and cooked whole with caramelized onions and potatoes
3 Mixed with garbanzo flour and quinoa flour in baked goods – buckwheat is gluten-free too!
4 Raw buckwheat soaked and sprouted, then dehydrated into the cutely named ‘buckwheaties’

What, only 4 ways? Well now there’s 5. Buckwheat pancakes I love best. I love them not just because they are so sweet and toasty and fabulous, but because they were the first thing that Mark asked me to make this past Sunday morning. Actually, I think they were the first words he spoke at all to me. Eyes open. Yawn. A kiss. “Will you make buckwheat pancakes?” I smiled, because unimaginably, this was the exact thought that ran through my mind right before he asked that question. We do that a lot.

I’m used to making pancakes. I’m the pancake improv queen. I can scat and doowop those cakes with the best of ‘em. I never use a recipe. I see what I’ve got and throw it in the bowl. Sometimes it works out… and well… sometimes it doesn’t. After Mark and I moved in together, I started making pancakes right and left. I now had someone to cook for (a.k.a a victim ripe for my experimentation.) He’s been through dense vegan whole wheat cakes, fluffy white and wheat cakes, pancakes with blueberries not-quite-cooked-through, buckwheat cakes flatter than, um, a pancake. Needless to say he’s been through many pancakes, but you won’t hear any complaints from him. Good or bad, they’ve all been covered in real maple syrup and slathered in butter, which perfects any imperfection.

A few weeks ago I decided to become a bit more systematic in my experimentation. In other words, I needed to find what was working and write it down. Over time I sensed that the lightest and most blissful pancakes came when I used yogurt and baking soda. It’s no wonder as the yogurt’s protein gives the cake structure, and it’s acidity activates the baking soda so effectively to give a good rise. I remember my mother using yogurt in her pancake batter when I was growing up. It must be key.

With forced fastidiousness, I plopped down a pencil and paper next to my morning batter-making and came up with this. After all the batches of pancakes Mark has ‘endured’ he’s always said “yum” or “good job” or “you’re the best, Pancake Girl” but this time, he had no words. He only gave a guttural “Ughhhhaaaaaahhhhh” and followed it with an “MMmmmmm.” I’ve never seen him in more pleasure over a pancake (and he’s a french toast guy.) It’s the ultimate. We both agreed. You’ll never want for another pancake recipe again. Heck, you may never make another pancake again that’s not buckwheat.

So this is number 5, but I think you’ll agree it’s number 1.

Fluffy Buckwheat Pancakes

The first time I made these I used nonfat yogurt and came out with a dry product. Don't use it! Stick with a lowfat yogurt, a brand I like is Nancy's Organic. You could substitute the white spelt flour with a white wheat flour and you'd probably be safe. Try topping them with berries, bananas or even some maple sweetened yogurt for a power breakfast.

1 cup lowfat yogurt
1 tablespoon evaporated cane juice or sugar
1 egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons water
1 cup soy milk
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup buckwheat flour
1/2 cup white spelt flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons butter

Mix together the first 8 ingredients in a medium bowl. Combine well and then add the flours and baking soda. Beat well to smooth the lumps. Heat a cast iron skillet to medium heat and add the butter to the pan. Pour batter out 1/4 cup at a time for medium-sized cakes. Top with real maple syrup and moan. I know, they're obscene, aren't they?

Ginger Chocolate Almond Granola

Fall has been good to us lately. I seem to remember much more rain this time last year. There were more dark and cloudy days. On my morning runs along the bike trail, I’d see so many sodden red and yellow leaves stuck like papier mache to black pavement. This morning the leaves were wet, but only because of the dew of the cold October mornings we’ve had. Little rain, more blue skies to act as the backdrop to those technicolor leaves.

There was quite a bit of blue today, and the sun, in it’s low angle, peeked out from behind a few fluffy clouds to illuminate the yellows and oranges. It’s funny how each season has its colors. Spring is rose and yellow-lime green from new buds, with hints of violet purple from the crocuses. Winter is deep pine green, if you live in the Northwest, with lots of grey from clouds and foggy mornings. Winter is also white, as some mornings you may look out the window and find that a cloak has been pulled over your front yard. Our whiteouts come not from snow, but from a marine fog that will never let you forget where you are. If you don’t touch the waters of the Sound that day, the Sound may reach out and touch you.

Fall has many colors to give, but the ones that pop up everywhere are school bus yellow, orange and brick red. Fall also gives us smells. Today while jogging along the trail, admiring the confetti of leaves and low sunlight, I smelled cloves. Sometimes there is a mild cinnamon in the air too along with the chill. No wonder this time of year we turn to spices with hearty, deeply-colored foods to make our meals - orange pumpkins, profoundly green kale, and orange-red foraged mushrooms like chanterelles and the lobster variety I saw at the market. We incorporate the smells… spicy pumpkin pie with cloves and cardamom, cinnamon, allspice and nutmeg too. The spices have also found their way into my kale and root veggies. Their piquancy wakes up your tongue, warms your mouth with a low, slow heat. A penetrating, sustained heat that is surprisingly subtle, despite is power.

The most attractive of all the warming spices is surely ginger. It’s my absolute favorite of all the spices that we associate with fall and winter cooking. It’s actually a rhizome, not a seed as most spices are. We can use it dried and ground, or peeled fresh and grated so the powerfully hot juice runs out with the pulp. China grows more of this rhizome than any other place in the world, but we import lots of it from Jamaica too. Yes, unfortunately it’s not a local food. It’s one of those exotic ingredients that we’ve come to see as quite normal here in the US. Like chocolate and coffee, we don’t really produce much, if any, but we enjoy it in abundance.

So on this cold, dewy October morning with Mark still asleep in bed, I decided to make a batch of something spicy and warm. I love granola. I love ginger. Why not combine the two? This recipe is so simple. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t make their own granola on a weekly basis. The fresh stuff is so great, and you avoid having to buy the stuff from the boxes or bulk bins that use extra oils and way way too much sugar. It takes 30 minutes, from start to finish. I added almonds, honey and maple syrup, and then some chopped chocolate. Divine.

My feet are freezing against the cold kitchen floor, and the windows are fogged from the cold outside – but the heat of the oven will fix that. The oats and almonds are toasting and the smell of ginger is wafting into every room. I have nowhere to be but right here, stretching my neck toward the windowpane to watch the sun peek out.

This to me is Fall - hearty and warming food, the oven on early to heat the house. We’ll let the rain come eventually and the greyer skies too, but for now I'm having my Fall.


Ginger Chocolate Almond Granola

This is almost too decadent for breakfast! I enjoy using a candied ginger from Trader Joe's that is uncrystallized, so it isn't gritty and too sweet like crystallized ginger can be. Green & Black's chocolate is fantastic if you can get it, in this recipe I used the 72% baking bar. If you can't find this particular brand, try to get chocolate that's organic and fair trade. This granola would make a great dessert served with some honey-sweetened yogurt and black cherries.

5 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1 cup raw almonds
2 tablespoons unhulled or hulled sesame seeds
1 - 2 tablespoons whole flax seeds
3 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup grade B maple syrup
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 tablespoon dried ground ginger
1 - 2 tablespoons fresh ginger, chopped
2 teaspoons cinnamon
3/4 cup uncrystallized candied ginger, chopped finely and loosely packed
1/5 cup dark chocolate, chopped, 70% or higher

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a large bowl, stir together first four ingredients. sprinkle in the vanilla in drops while stirring. Then add the honey and maple syrup, and stir to coat all the dry ingredients well. You may have to really work this for a bit to get all the clumps out - but if you like clumps, just add more honey and don't stir as much. Once all the dry ingredients are coated, put in the dried and fresh ginger, cinnamon and salt. Stir well. Place mixture on a large baking sheet with raised sides, so your granola doesn't slide off and make a mess. Bake for about 20 minutes, stirring halfway through. The granola should be brown and golden all the way through (stirring once or twice during baking will allow even toasting.) Cool the granola completely - and I mean totally, otherwise the chocolate will melt all over the place... but hmmm, maybe that's a good thing... so go ahead and add the candied ginger and chocolate. Serve it up with vanilla soymilk. Yum.

Thyme Roasted Orange Fries

Tossed in olive oil and thyme

I have a secret. I love French fries. I don’t think I’ve ever said that before, and wow, that felt good. I love French Fries!! I’ve always loved them, in secret, like I love chocolate cake. But somewhere along the way, I’ve ordered chocolate cake in a restaurant when a dessert was to be split, or made one at home with whole wheat pastry flour and tofu icing, just to make myself feel a bit better. But I’ve never ordered fries in a restaurant in recent or not-so-recent memory. They are just one of those off-limits foods for me. You know, those foods that you can’t imagine ordering to finish all by yourself because it’s just so… so… junkfoodlike. All I can see is a big pile of guilt-inducing greasy calories. Sigh, yes, Dotty the Dietitian has just dropped her apples and has tackled me again. Every time I dine out with Mark or a friend, I order a veggie hummus sandwich and then say with a radiant smile “Side salad, please, with dressing on the side.” And when the plate across from me arrives, piled high with those fragrant naughty fries, I reach over and say “Mmmm, do you mind?” Maybe the allure is in the taboo. A hot potatoey fry dipped in too-sweet ketchup. It’s just so good. I think they taste better taken from my partner’s sandwich platter anyhow.

A bouquet of thyme and rosemary is more fragrant than flowers

Two years ago, on a wild and wooly trip to San Francisco, my friend Eric (also classifiable as wild and wooly) insisted that we take a motorbike trip into the heart of the city to visit his absolutely favorite Belgian restaurant serving his absolutely favorite thing… French fries. As you may know, the Belgians take no prisoners when it comes to the art of frying the tuber. A Belgian fry is double-fried, once to crisp and cook the fry, a second time to recrisp the outside and add an additional layer of browned flavor. If I had gone to this place by myself, I inevitably would have ordered something a little more… boring. But Eric brings out the sense of adventure in me, so we ordered those fries and rolled our eyes at the potatoey creamy decadence of it all.

But still, I haven’t yet made peace with the French fry.

But do you know what I love, what I will always be happy to make when root veggies come in season? Orange fries. They’re so sweet, and dare I say, more enjoyable even than the traditional russet potato ones. These fries are so colorful and buttery, doused in olive oil and roasted with thyme until their browned sweetness makes them stick to your back teeth. These fries are long thin strips of organic yam and sweet carrot. Even the most diehard French fry fan will take a shine to these. They are fries for sure… but sweeter, and not deep fried, and use a healthier fat too. I think they are a bit more interesting as a contrast to your black bean burger or chicken sandwich, wouldn’t you say? But mind you, I do not mean these to be a substitute, they make no apologies for who they are.

And neither should I. I love French fries. And no, I still won’t keep my hands off your plate.

Browned and sweet

Thyme Roasted Orange Fries

serves 4

These fries work well with any herbs you have on hand. I like to use Nash's carrots from here in Washington state. They are the sweetest I've had. Look around at your farmer's market and sample around for your favorite orange veggies.

4-5 large sweet carrots

2 medium-sized oblong yams

4 tablespoons olive oil

1 bunch fresh thyme

1 tablespoon coarse sea salt

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Slice each carrot and yam into long strips, about 1/4 - 1/2" thick. Not too skinny, or they will roast too quickly and burn at the tips. Place the pieces on two large baking sheets and toss with 2 tablespoons of olive oil for each batch. Pull the leaves off of each thyme branch, and not worry if some of the tough branches get mixed in... they'll come out later on the pan. Leave some branches whole if you like, just leave enough small leaves to help coat the fries. Put 1/2 tablespoon of coarse salt on each tray and toss well. Spread the fries out as far apart as you can, so they roast faster and crisp well. Bake until brown and crispy. If they aren't brown enough, they won't taste as sweet.