Butternut Squash and Apple Soup

Behold, my first homemade butternut squash soup - ever. Despite that fact that I adore butternut squash soup, I've never bothered to make it. Frankly, I was put off by the obvious task of pureeing the soup, usually in a blender and in multiple batches. I've seen my less lazy friends do it, and I simply couldn't be bothered. Who wants to deal with all that scooping and blending and pouring? The number of dishes I would have to dirty alone was enough to give me pause. Yeah, I'm lazy sometimes. We can't all be Julia Child every day. However, now that I have a handy-dandy immersion blender, this soup was a cinch. 

The first time I tasted butternut squash soup was in a little Irish restaurant up the street from Mom and Dad's house called Kate's at Milton Hill. My home town didn't really have restaurants, except for the much-loved local pizzeria and a small deli. So, it shouldn't be a surprise that we spent a lot of nights up at Kate's. There was a dining room as well as a small "pub" which eventually became our default dinner out. On nights when Mom had to work late, and even when she didn't, we would trek up to Kate's pub for some soups, sandwiches and a little Red Sox baseball. Katie's wasn't anything special, with its corny, Celtic stencils painted on the walls and the never-ending playlist of airy flutes and hearty fiddles, but it was relaxing, comfortable and close to home. To me, those are some of the same qualities that make up a good squash soup. Maybe it isn't the most remarkable thing I'll ever eat, but I always feel warm and happy having had it.

Butternut Squash and Apple Soup 

Adapted from Bon Appetit, October 2003

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 medium onions, chopped

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon curry powder

4 1/2 pounds butternut squash, peeled, seeded, cut into 1-inch cubes

2 or 3 apples, peeled, cored and diced

4 cups vegetable broth

1 cup apple cider

1 cup white wine

Greek yogurt

Melt butter in a large pot over medium heat. Add onion, nutmeg and curry powder. Saute onions until they begin to brown. Add squash, apples, broth, cider and wine. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer uncovered about 30 minutes, until squash and apples are tender. Using an immersion blender, puree soup until smooth.* Add salt and pepper to taste. Ladle soup into bowls and serve with a dollop of Greek yogurt. 

*If you don't have an immersion blender, you can puree the soup in a blender, pureeing a few cups at a time and transferring pureed soup to another bowl or container. When you have pureed all the soup, pour it back into your pot and simmer until the soup reaches your desired temperature. 

Zucchini Ziti

I don't like ziti. In fact, I hate it. Nine and a half times out of ten, I will substitute it out of a recipe. Who needs it? For one thing, it is a boring shape. Tubes. Blah. Two, is has no texture. Sauces seem to slide right off the damn thing on its way to my mouth. And really, what is pasta, if not an efficient means for delivering delicious sauces to my taste-buds? Three, most ziti is just a little too long to fit in my mouth sideways, which means that whatever small amount of sauce was able to desperately cling to the too-smooth surface, does not so much end up in my mouth, as on my face. Really, ziti? Let's just say, ziti and I got beef.

Nonetheless, since there wasn't really a sauce to this dish, I'll thought I would attempt to let bygones be bygones. Not to mention the fact that "ziti" and "zucchini" are really fun to say in the same sentence. Ziti Zucchini. Zucchini Ziti. Ziti, ziti, I love zucchini. Yum.

Savory awesomeness!

Ziti with Roasted Garlic, Onions and Zucchini
(Adapted from Bon Appetit, October, 2010)

2 lbs. zucchini, cut into 1/4-inch rounds
2 cups onions, cut into quarters and thinly sliced
12 garlic cloves, chopped
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1/2 tsp. dried crushed red pepper
1 lb. box of ziti
1/2 - 1 cup fresh basil, chopped
3/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a large bowl, combine zucchini, onions and garlic. Toss vegetables with 3 tablespoons of olive oil and crushed red pepper. Spread veggies out across two rimmed baking sheets and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast veggies for 30 to 35 minutes, moving/stirring the veggies a couple of times.

While the vegetable are roasting, cook the pasta in a large pot according to the directions on the box. Drain, reserving about 3/4 cup of the cooking liquid. Return the pasta to the pot and toss with 1 tablespoon of olive oil. Cover until the vegetables are done roasting, then mix in veggies and 1/4 of cooking liquid. If your timing is a little off and either the vegetables or the pasta gets cold, just warm everything in the large pot over medium heat until heated throughout. Mix in basil and cheese.* Add more of the cooking liquid, a little bit at a time, if necessary. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

Did I mention yum?

*There was a little bit of a trade off with the cheese. I get very annoyed when adding grated cheese to hot pasta dishes because the cheese so often wads up and encases a smattering of random ingredients in giant cheese balls, while the rest of the dish goes virtually uncheesed. (Yeah, "cheese" can be used as a verb). So I tried to add the cheese about 1/4 cup at a time and mix well before adding more. The trade off is that all the additional mixing (perhaps I was too forceful?) tore apart the zucchini. Oh, well, I'll trade pretty for delicious (and no cheese bombs!) any day.

Being a Grown Up is Kinda Like Fish Tacos

I cooked a piece of fish. Several actually. This is a big step. If you know me, you know, I don't eat fish - not cooked fish anyway. Can't stand it. I keep trying, hoping I'll come around, but until this week, I had never cooked a piece of fish in my life.

When I was a little, Mom and I had a deal at dinner time. If I didn't like something, I had to have at least three bites of it or I couldn't get up from the table. Pretty fair, right? And who likes a fussy eater? However, on the nights we had fish for dinner, I felt the need to take a stand. I would sit and sit and sit, stubbornly poking and breaking up my bites of fish into smaller and smaller chunks, while Dad, Mom and the Mayor finished eating, did dishes and adjourned to the den for some family TV. One night, while I stewed in my disobedience, I could hear them watching Flight of the Navigator, one of my favorite movies! Traitors! I did my best to close my eyes and picture the scenes I knew by heart in my head, but after a few minutes, I couldn't take it; I scooped up all three bites on my fork and forced it into my mouth. I frantically gestured for Mom to inspect my clean plate. Look! Look! Yet, as soon as my parole was given, instead of plunking myself down between Dad and the Major for some fabulous 80s Sci-fi, I stubbornly refused to submit. That's right, I held that fish in my mouth, ran upstairs and spit it out.

Yeah, I was wicked mature. Get over it. I've totally grown up since then. As an adult, not only do I order fish in restaurants, but I often use my wine to help me wash it down. ( No spitting here! I'm a lady). Be that as it may, when Boyfriend came home from a recent fishing trip with several pounds of rockfish (pounds!! blerg!!) I decided to be mature, act the grown-up and face my three bites of fish phobia head on.


Fish Tacos with Fresh Salsa
(Adapted from Simply Mexican, by Lourdes Castro here)

The best thing about fish tacos, or any tacos really, is that you can add and subtract ingredients to suit your tastes. I really like avocado and lime, so I filled mine up with extra of both. Despite that fact that I had no source for comparison, I liked my fish tacos. They did seemed a little tame compared to their beef and cheesy cousins, but I still considered these tacos a success. Besides, Boyfriend tells me they tasted top notch.

1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1 and 1/3 lbs. rockfish fillets* (or any white flaky fish)
1/4 cup olive oil
1 1/2 tsp. ancho chile powder
1 1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
2 jalapenos, seeded and minced
4 medium or 8 small flour tortillas

Toppings
1 avocado, cut into small chunks
handful of fresh cilantro leaves
Salsa

Salsa
3 or 4 cups tomatoes, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 red onion, finely chopped
1 jalapeno, seeded and minced
1/2 cup loosely packed fresh cilantro, chopped
1/2 cup white wine vinegar
juice of 1 lime

* I left the skin on my fillets.

1. Onions: place onions in a small bowl and cover with red wine vinegar. Cover and set aside.

2. Marinade: Mix together olive oil, chile powder, oregano, cumin, cilantro and jalapenos in a small bowl. Place fish in a baking dish (skin down, if you left the skin on) and spoon marinade over fish. Make sure to evenly distribute over all the fillets. Cover and marinate for at least 1 hour.

3. Salsa: Meanwhile, mix together all the ingredients. Add salt and pepper to taste. Give the whole thing a turn or two in the blender or food processor if you like your salsa less chunky.

4. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Bake fish, uncovered, for 15 to 25 minutes. (Mine took 20 minutes). To test the doneness of the fish, insert a fork and twist slightly. If the fish is opaque and flakes apart, it should be done. Flake the fish into a bowl.

5. Tacos! Assemble tacos in a tortilla with a couple scoops of fish, onions, avocado and salsa. Add lime juice or cilantro leaves to taste. Enjoy!

Gazpacho: Soup and Superpowers

I have been thinking about superpowers a lot lately - and how much I want them. Yeah, I know, spending my time daydreaming about superpwers doesn't really smack of grown-up responsibility or maturity. Yeah, yeah, well that's how I look at most things in my life. I'll be an adult when I have to be, but I'm going to be a kid as often as I can. So this is where I rationalize fantasizing about superpowers. And if you're all honest, what person with the smallest amount of imagination doesn't? Right. That's what I thought.

Last month, I was watching a lot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which really made me want super strength - just for the badass factor. Then, after Boyfriend and I stuffed ourselves stupid with seafood while on vacation last month, I wished I had a superpower that would cook me excellent food, which little or no effort on my part. Oh, wait, they call that delivery. No, really, I got to asking myself, what superpower would be best for the kitchen?

At first I thought I might like Superman's lazer eye business, so that I could cook food with my eyes, but that didn't seem right. Then I thought I could be like Magneto and move all my pots and cooking utensils around with my mind. I finally settled on being like Wolverine. I can't get away from how handy those claws would be for chopping and dicing. (Snikt! Snikt! Gazpacho!) Plus, if I were like Wolverine, I get to drink beer and be irreverent. Bonus.

What superpower would you like to have in the kitchen?

Gazpacho
28-ounce can diced tomatoes (include juices)
1 cucumber, seeded and finely chopped
1/2 yellow pepper, finely chopped
1/2 red onion, finely chopped
1 jalapeno, seeded and minced
1 garlic clove, minced
1 big handful of cilantro, chopped
2 tbsp. lime juice
1 cup white wine
1/4 cup olive oil (I would use less next time)
salt and pepper
dash(es) of Sriracha (optional)

Combine first 8 ingredients. If too thick, add wine and oil. Adjust heat by adding a dash or two of Sriracha or your favorite hot sauce. Cover and chill for an hour to let flavors combine. Taste and readjust heat, salt and pepper to taste.

P.S. The great thing about gazpacho is that you can thrown in whatever you like. I like mine chunky, but you could also toss it in the food processor and make it smooth. This was my first time making it and I am already thinking of things I can add or change next time. Hey, carrots, come on down!

Carrot and Cumin Soup

Carrots, so obviously awesome, so often overlooked. I used to eat carrots like they were going out of style. I'm not really sure why I stopped. I think somewhere along the line they stopped being a super flavorful afternoon treat and became "diet food." And baby carrots. Everyone got so exited about baby carrots; buying the big bags just wasn't "in" anymore. At least, that is how it went down in my head. Recently, I've begun to remember how much I love this veggie. Carrots have so much going on, how could you not throw them in everything? They are good raw, as a side dish, in stir-fry or salad; how could I forget about them? Last month I tossed them in my shepherd's pie, so this month I pureed them in this quick, but flavorful soup. (Special shout-out to Boyfriend for the immersion blender Christmas present).

Carrot and Cumin Soup
Adapted from this Bon Appetit recipe

1 lb. carrots, peeled and chopped into 1/2" dice
1 large yellow onion
2 tbsp butter
2 1/2 cups chicken broth
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1 tbsp honey
1 tsp lemon juice
1/8 tsp allspice (or more to taste)
1 small container plain yogurt

1. In a large saucepan, melt butter over medium high heat. Saute onions for about 2 minutes, just until they begin to soften. Add carrots and chicken broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for about 20 minutes or until the carrots are tender.

2. Remove soup from heat. Puree with an immersion blender or in a food processor, until smooth. Return to pan and whisk in cumin, honey, lemon juice and allspice. Season with salt and pepper.

3. Ladle into bowls and add a dollop (or a generous tablespoon) of yogurt to each bowl. Sprinkle lightly with cumin and serve.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Down Your Radishes

Do y'all remember Shelley Duvall's Faerie Tale Theatre? C'mon children of the 80s, who's with me? If you need a refresher, seasons 1-6 are available on Hulu and Netflix instant watch. You have no idea how excited I was when I saw these titles on Netflix. The series is a who's-who of 80s entertainment, with guest stars ranging from Robin Williams to Carol Kane to Matthew Broderick and even James Earl Jones as Aladdin's genie. The tales are dark and funny and with just a pinch of sexual innuendo, which, until now, went right over my head. And you can't beat the hilarious production quality, even for the 80s.

As I was reacquainting myself with the series, I stumbled upon a few episodes I had never seen, one of which was Rapunzel. Apparently, as the story goes, Rapunzel's parents find themselves in a bit of jam, when Rapunzel's mom (preggers with you-know-who) can't get enough of these magic radishes, which (say it with me) only grow in a witch's garden. Dotting husband (played by Jeff Bridges) treks over there, night after night stealing radishes and dodging witches, when little does he know, Witchy put the hankering for radishes in Wifey's head in order to exact a vengeful price - a baby-sized price, that is.

Good, now you are all caught up. So, why I am telling you this? Well, because this episode had a strangely alluring radish montage. That's right. I bet you never thought you would see it, but there is a radish montage, which inclues radishes eaten off the stem, radish kabobs, radish pie, radish fondue and culminates in a toothy, cannibal-radish nightmare. Fantastic. And you know what I realized? I've never eaten a radish before - in my whole life.

Roasted Radishes with Green Beans
(based on this Gourmet recipe)

1 lb. radishes, cut in half lengthwise, then crosswise
1 lb. green beans, trimmed
3-4 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
salt and pepper

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Place racks at top and bottom thirds of the oven. Toss radishes with about 2 tbsp. olive oil. (You could toss in a bowl or in a gallon storage bag. I tossed mine in a bag, so I could reuse for green beans and use less oil). Spread radishes on a baking sheet in a single layer. Sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Roast on top rack for 10 minutes.

2. While the radishes are roasting, toss green beans with remaining 2 tbsp of olive oil (or less depending on your taste). Spread green beans in a single layer on a baking sheet. When radishes have been roasting for ten minutes, put green beans in oven, on bottom rack, and continue roasting both for a further ten minutes.

3. Test doneness of radishes, they should be crispy but tender. Depending on the size of the radishes, they may take a few more minutes. Sprinkle garlic over green beans and roast another two minutes. In a large bowl, toss radishes with green beans and serve.

Despite the fact that Boyfriend warned, "If you've ever bitten into a salad on gone: 'Ick, what is that?' You've probably had a radish," I decided to try one raw for comparison. I was instantly sorry I had decided to roast them. If you don't know, radishes have a hearty, mushroom-like flavor (I think that kind of taste is called umami, but the term is still confusing to me) with a kind of cauliflower/broccoli stem crunchiness. And the pepper! There is a charming and surprising peppery kick at the end of each bite. After roasting, the pepperiness is gone (sad face), but the radish itself it sweet and crispy, kinda like roasted cauliflower (which is kick-ass, in case you haven't tried that). Overall quite delicious. - What a puzzling little, cherry red, flavor-bomb you are, Brother Radish. I very much enjoyed eating you.

It remains to be seen whether or not other episodes of Faerie Tale Theatre will inspire new recipes in my kitchen. Until then, nerd on!