I bike home on a dark misty night. Leaves carpet the sidewalks and shine out their colour as my bike glides by. Cooler weather and dramatic skies underline the incredible palette on the trees. I ooh and aah quite a bit as I see nature in all its autumn glory. October definitely brings colour to the forefront.
This week, I’ve been thinking about marriages. In my parents bedroom, during my growing up years, a picture hung above their marriage bed. In my memory, it is an etching of a southwestern desert scene. A large bush or tree stands very close to a smaller, rounded cactus. Its title, “Companions”, seems to imply that these two very different forms work well together yet retain their individuality. Though we might not put them together, it somehow works.
All around us, we can see things that are good separately but are even better when joined by another. I’ve heard a gardener friend tell me that when she plants her tomatoes she always makes sure to also plant basil alongside. Basil is a good companion plant for tomatoes. They are said to grow better tomatoes and to detract bugs. And when it’s time to harvest, the two go well as flavours.
In the French vineyards where we walked, we noticed the rose bushes at the end of each row of grapevines. Roses grow in similar conditions to grapes but being more delicate they show disease sooner. So roses in some way protect the grapes and also enhance the vineyards.
This also true of our community. We each have strengths and brought together they make a better whole.
And so it is with foods. A slice of bread by itself is great but add a slice cheese, or even some fresh butter and it is even better. Vanilla ice cream satisfies the stomach but with some hot chocolate sauce ladled over it, it becomes a joy. I appreciate the flavours of each food in its simplest form but I also like to think of ways to mix these tastes and make them even more exciting. So at this time of year, pears, butternut squash and apples all bring their own specific colours to the kitchen counter but mixing them together makes for a happy marriage. That’s how I came up with this hearty autumn soup.
Pumpkin Squash Curry Soup
2 lbs of baked and pureed butternut squash and pumpkin
1 T. butter
2 c. peeled and chopped pears
2 leeks, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
1/2 c. celery, chopped
1 bay leaf
2 t. curry powder
1/2 t. cinnamon
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 c. vegetable broth
1 c. apple cider
salt to taste
Melt butter in a soup pot. Add pears, leeks, onions, celery and bay leaf. Sauté for 10 minutes. Stir in curry powder, cinnamon and garlic. Sauté another minute. Add squash, broth, cider and salt. Stir well. Simmer for 30 minutes. Remove bay leaf. Blend with stick blender. Serve.
Originally published in The Goshen News, October 20, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
October celebrations are a time to show appreciation -- Mulled Cider
Once a year, in October, I get a chance to recognize the two most important men in my life: my father and my partner. By now, I’ve lived with the latter longer than with the former but each has left their mark on me and will continue to do so for as long as I live. It’s probably not coincidence that they were both born in October under harvest skies and that, though very different, they both carry traits that I cherish: among them, steadfastness, a streak of stubbornness, a good dose of common sense, a thinking mind and respect from others in their chosen work.
I grew from newborn to college student under my dad’s umbrella. It’s from him that I get my urge to question the world around me and to look ahead with vision. Many times at our supper table, topics discussed required pulling out the heavy encyclopedia to check for a spelling, meaning or definition. To this day, I continue that tradition with a smaller pocketbook dictionary at the bakery. In our conversations there, we often have to dig it out to make sure we understand what we are talking about.
My father also encouraged reading and many a night I read beside him in our living room as he caught up on the latest news and the current literature to keep abreast of the world around him. My mother and he still send magazines my way when they are finished reading them and I will find underlined passages that they have marked as important. Because of his knowledge, he often became my encyclopedia on such subjects as the Vietnam War, utopian societies, European history, art appreciation, theology and faith.
As I grew up watching him, as children will do of their parents, I saw a man who always had an open ear for those who needed help whatever their status or origin. I observed a person who lived out what he believed and yet was open to those who believed differently. I picked up the idea that you have to work hard for what you believe in and always to try and do the best at any job.
Sometimes he became the devil’s advocate to make me think through what I was doing.
And much of this happened at the supper table where our family gathered every night to eat together, often with visitors from all over the world. So it is a privilege to celebrate my dad once a year and as each year passes, I appreciate what he has passed on to me more.
As for the other man in my life, I’m still learning new things from him. That’s what keeps him so interesting. Not to mention that he can fix just about anything and can make us a new kitchen from drawing board to finished product with an eye for beauty as well as use. I don’t need to say much more on his subject. He knows how I feel.
I believe it is good and even necessary to tell those we love around us what we appreciate in them because now is when we can. So today, here is my recipe for mulled cider, appropriate for mid-October festivities. Invite someone over to drink it with and tell them what you appreciate about them, before it’s too late.
Mulled cider
1 gallon cider, local if possible
2 sticks cinnamon
1 1/2 t. allspice
2 t. whole cloves
1 t. grated orange peel
Put the cider in a big pot. Mix in the spices. Bring up to a boil. Immediately, turn down to a simmer for about a half hour. Serve piping hot with pumpkin cookies.
I grew from newborn to college student under my dad’s umbrella. It’s from him that I get my urge to question the world around me and to look ahead with vision. Many times at our supper table, topics discussed required pulling out the heavy encyclopedia to check for a spelling, meaning or definition. To this day, I continue that tradition with a smaller pocketbook dictionary at the bakery. In our conversations there, we often have to dig it out to make sure we understand what we are talking about.
My father also encouraged reading and many a night I read beside him in our living room as he caught up on the latest news and the current literature to keep abreast of the world around him. My mother and he still send magazines my way when they are finished reading them and I will find underlined passages that they have marked as important. Because of his knowledge, he often became my encyclopedia on such subjects as the Vietnam War, utopian societies, European history, art appreciation, theology and faith.
As I grew up watching him, as children will do of their parents, I saw a man who always had an open ear for those who needed help whatever their status or origin. I observed a person who lived out what he believed and yet was open to those who believed differently. I picked up the idea that you have to work hard for what you believe in and always to try and do the best at any job.
Sometimes he became the devil’s advocate to make me think through what I was doing.
And much of this happened at the supper table where our family gathered every night to eat together, often with visitors from all over the world. So it is a privilege to celebrate my dad once a year and as each year passes, I appreciate what he has passed on to me more.
As for the other man in my life, I’m still learning new things from him. That’s what keeps him so interesting. Not to mention that he can fix just about anything and can make us a new kitchen from drawing board to finished product with an eye for beauty as well as use. I don’t need to say much more on his subject. He knows how I feel.
I believe it is good and even necessary to tell those we love around us what we appreciate in them because now is when we can. So today, here is my recipe for mulled cider, appropriate for mid-October festivities. Invite someone over to drink it with and tell them what you appreciate about them, before it’s too late.
Mulled cider
1 gallon cider, local if possible
2 sticks cinnamon
1 1/2 t. allspice
2 t. whole cloves
1 t. grated orange peel
Put the cider in a big pot. Mix in the spices. Bring up to a boil. Immediately, turn down to a simmer for about a half hour. Serve piping hot with pumpkin cookies.
Cooler weather means stockpiling -- Stuffed Acorn Squash
As I bike home from work, a deepening chill seeps through my jacket and up my sleeves. I am glad that I decided to wear gloves so that I can still feel the handlebars. Darkness creeps up slowly and I’ll be home before it has taken over the sky. In the brisk air, I smell the smoke of wood fires. Before me, squirrels scatter carrying walnuts. I’m glad that autumn has finally arrived. With colourful pumpkins and squash, with gourds of all shapes and sizes, with mums and asters blooming and the last of the tomatoes and peppers on the vine, I’m starting to feel like those squirrels. I’m looking for things to store. Apples, tomatoes, peaches and more slowly make their way to the storage shelves. Onions, potatoes and sweet potatoes sit piled in baskets. But this not only happens with food. I also start collecting yarn for knitting, pine cones for crafting and a list of good books that I can read once the weather turns ugly (and it will! We do live in northern Indiana!).
Back when we lived on the farm, we had to make sure we had a good pile of firewood for the winter. Many Saturdays were spent heading out to the woods with Poke and Polly hitched to the wagon and a good ax and chain saw laying in its box. The trips back and forth created a growing stack of logs leaning against the house. We knew that wood would keep us warm through the coming blizzards. That knowledge was our security blanket.
Every fall, I feel the same way. If I can just stockpile a few things, I know that I will make it through until spring. I will feel safe and cozy within these four walls. So that’s why I peel and chop, simmer and cook, stir and ladle until it’s time to can and store away. These jars will preserve the colour and the flavors of summer when the earth is sleeping in its muted blanket of snow.
These days, as the sun glides in and out of dramatic grey skies and all the colours seem a little brighter, I’ve been going mad with squash. Most recently, I took an acorn squash, cut it in half and seeded it, then cut each half into eighths. I brushed each wedge with melted butter, sprinkled them lightly with salt and pepper, and laid a sage leaf from my garden on top of each one. Baked in the oven at 375 degrees for one hour, I served them sprinkled with their own cleaned and toasted seeds. They definitely passed the flavour and colour test.
So go to the market and get yourselves some squash and come up with your own recipe. Here is one I came up with.
Stuffed Acorn Squash
4 small acorn squash
1 T. butter
1/2 large red pepper, diced
1 medium sized onion, chopped
1 lb. bulk salt and pepper sausage, browned
3 c. cooked brown or black rice
1/2 t. pepper
1/2 t. salt
1 c. craisins
a little honey
Cut the squash in half, scoop out seeds and set aside for toasting. Place cut side down on foil-lined baking sheet. Add a little water and bake in 375 degree oven until just tender.
Melt butter in a frying pan, add peppers and onions and sauté until tender. Mix with cooked sausage and rice, salt and pepper, and craisins. Mound in center of squash. Bake in oven until heated through, Drizzle with a little bit of honey and put back into the oven for another five minutes. Serves 8.
Back when we lived on the farm, we had to make sure we had a good pile of firewood for the winter. Many Saturdays were spent heading out to the woods with Poke and Polly hitched to the wagon and a good ax and chain saw laying in its box. The trips back and forth created a growing stack of logs leaning against the house. We knew that wood would keep us warm through the coming blizzards. That knowledge was our security blanket.
Every fall, I feel the same way. If I can just stockpile a few things, I know that I will make it through until spring. I will feel safe and cozy within these four walls. So that’s why I peel and chop, simmer and cook, stir and ladle until it’s time to can and store away. These jars will preserve the colour and the flavors of summer when the earth is sleeping in its muted blanket of snow.
These days, as the sun glides in and out of dramatic grey skies and all the colours seem a little brighter, I’ve been going mad with squash. Most recently, I took an acorn squash, cut it in half and seeded it, then cut each half into eighths. I brushed each wedge with melted butter, sprinkled them lightly with salt and pepper, and laid a sage leaf from my garden on top of each one. Baked in the oven at 375 degrees for one hour, I served them sprinkled with their own cleaned and toasted seeds. They definitely passed the flavour and colour test.
So go to the market and get yourselves some squash and come up with your own recipe. Here is one I came up with.
Stuffed Acorn Squash
4 small acorn squash
1 T. butter
1/2 large red pepper, diced
1 medium sized onion, chopped
1 lb. bulk salt and pepper sausage, browned
3 c. cooked brown or black rice
1/2 t. pepper
1/2 t. salt
1 c. craisins
a little honey
Cut the squash in half, scoop out seeds and set aside for toasting. Place cut side down on foil-lined baking sheet. Add a little water and bake in 375 degree oven until just tender.
Melt butter in a frying pan, add peppers and onions and sauté until tender. Mix with cooked sausage and rice, salt and pepper, and craisins. Mound in center of squash. Bake in oven until heated through, Drizzle with a little bit of honey and put back into the oven for another five minutes. Serves 8.
A walk in the vineyards -- Sweet Focaccia with Grapes
Exactly six years ago to the day, Jim and I are in the midst of a two-month walking trip of France. In a moment of creative brainstorming and looking to the future, we come upon this idea: a two-month hiatus from life-as-usual, a starting over of sorts, a change of pace to clear our minds and bodies. Our youngest has flown the coop and our lives are in a groove; it’s now or never. We dream of walking the Appalachian Trail but after perusing a book about walking in France, we’ve taken our first steps and find ourselves at the edge of a new adventure. We want to get to know France on foot for 2 months. And so it is that at the end of September, we begin our third walking tour by taking the train from Paris to Strasbourg and then a shuttle train to the small town of Barr where we get off in the dark and find our way to the bed and breakfast for the night. Our hostess, next morning over a breakfast of homemade bread and jams and piping hot coffee, tells us there is not really much to see in this town. Our goal is to take the train to the next town and then walk our way up and through and down the mountains and vineyards to another town. So we head out in the rain, loaded with our backpacks, towards the train station and decide to walk through the center of town. There we discover old, old houses with exposed timber on their second floors and painted an array of colours, blue, yellow, green,. pink, orange, with flowers hanging along the balconies. The streets are paved with old cobblestones that wind around to the town fountain, also decorated with flowers. Despite our hostess’ comment, we think it is one of the quaintest places we’ve ever seen, even in the rain!
We buy our trail map for this leg of the journey and start our hike in the town of Scherwiller. The air here is cooler and it seems like fall is in the air. The rain comes and goes as we fall into a walking rhythm. We have dropped down into the middle of the vineyards of northeastern France. The grapevines are loaded with fruit and we see the beginning of activity at the local wine properties. Even in the rain, tractors go by pulling loads of grapes and here and there, through an open door, we spot men bottling wine. Though our path takes us through the flat lands, all around us we see slopes and mountains. The colours of fall are everywhere. We are amazed at the beautiful houses, very nicely kept up, and at the age of some of the buildings. It’s hard to tell where one town stops and the next begins because it is all vineyards. But each little town has its own central hub with a church and a bakery and a little grocery shop. At one of these, we stop to gather provisions since we don’t know when the next one will be. We finally arrive at our next lodging in the town of Kientzheim. Here again, the grape growers are hard at work, picking, filling tubs full and loading them onto tractors for the ride back to the farm. We can even smell the grapes all around us. We soon spot our bed and breakfast and our hostess shows us to our room. When she finds out that we have been walking a ways in the rain, she quickly turns on the heat in our room and then leaves us to settle in. This tiny hamlet is right next to the mountain so we decide to test our legs on the very steep slope up to the top. We will have to climb this hill tomorrow with our packs on! After an all-day wet and exciting walk through the vineyards, we are ready for some down time. We spy a pizza place across the street and decide to splurge. We enter into a cozy space where it’s quiet and the owners themselves come to take our orders and serve us. We eat some delicious homemade pizzas and enjoy some wine and take our time as our legs slowly relax and our minds slowly unwind. Then it’s a quick dash through the autumn rain back to the bed and breakfast for a good night’s sleep among the vineyards so we will be ready to climb that mountain tomorrow. So here comes autumn in Indiana six years later and the following recipe takes me back to those vineyards of Alsace, France.
Sweet Focaccia with grapes
3 1/3 c. warm water
3 1/3 T. yeast
3/4 c. brown sugar
2 t. cinnamon
1 T. salt
1/2 lb. butter, softened
3 1/3 c. white flour
In a bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water. Let sit for 5 minutes. Add 1 1/2 c. of flour, brown sugar, cinnamon and salt. Mix well. Then mix in butter. Add remaining flour as needed, kneading gently until dough forms a smooth ball. Cover and let rise for one hour. Divide into 1-lb pieces. Grease some cookie sheets. Flatten each piece by hand into a 7 inch circle. Let rest a half hour.
While dough is rising, cut in half 1 c. cup of green grapes and 1 c. of red grapes. Mix with a little sugar, and a little wine. When circles have rested, make shallow indentations in them with your fingertips, brush them lightly with vanilla yogurt, then sprinkle on the grapes, pushing them gently into the dough. Bake at 400 degrees for 25 minutes or so, just until the dough starts to turn brown around the edges. These are especially good on a rainy fall day!
We buy our trail map for this leg of the journey and start our hike in the town of Scherwiller. The air here is cooler and it seems like fall is in the air. The rain comes and goes as we fall into a walking rhythm. We have dropped down into the middle of the vineyards of northeastern France. The grapevines are loaded with fruit and we see the beginning of activity at the local wine properties. Even in the rain, tractors go by pulling loads of grapes and here and there, through an open door, we spot men bottling wine. Though our path takes us through the flat lands, all around us we see slopes and mountains. The colours of fall are everywhere. We are amazed at the beautiful houses, very nicely kept up, and at the age of some of the buildings. It’s hard to tell where one town stops and the next begins because it is all vineyards. But each little town has its own central hub with a church and a bakery and a little grocery shop. At one of these, we stop to gather provisions since we don’t know when the next one will be. We finally arrive at our next lodging in the town of Kientzheim. Here again, the grape growers are hard at work, picking, filling tubs full and loading them onto tractors for the ride back to the farm. We can even smell the grapes all around us. We soon spot our bed and breakfast and our hostess shows us to our room. When she finds out that we have been walking a ways in the rain, she quickly turns on the heat in our room and then leaves us to settle in. This tiny hamlet is right next to the mountain so we decide to test our legs on the very steep slope up to the top. We will have to climb this hill tomorrow with our packs on! After an all-day wet and exciting walk through the vineyards, we are ready for some down time. We spy a pizza place across the street and decide to splurge. We enter into a cozy space where it’s quiet and the owners themselves come to take our orders and serve us. We eat some delicious homemade pizzas and enjoy some wine and take our time as our legs slowly relax and our minds slowly unwind. Then it’s a quick dash through the autumn rain back to the bed and breakfast for a good night’s sleep among the vineyards so we will be ready to climb that mountain tomorrow. So here comes autumn in Indiana six years later and the following recipe takes me back to those vineyards of Alsace, France.
Sweet Focaccia with grapes
3 1/3 c. warm water
3 1/3 T. yeast
3/4 c. brown sugar
2 t. cinnamon
1 T. salt
1/2 lb. butter, softened
3 1/3 c. white flour
In a bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water. Let sit for 5 minutes. Add 1 1/2 c. of flour, brown sugar, cinnamon and salt. Mix well. Then mix in butter. Add remaining flour as needed, kneading gently until dough forms a smooth ball. Cover and let rise for one hour. Divide into 1-lb pieces. Grease some cookie sheets. Flatten each piece by hand into a 7 inch circle. Let rest a half hour.
While dough is rising, cut in half 1 c. cup of green grapes and 1 c. of red grapes. Mix with a little sugar, and a little wine. When circles have rested, make shallow indentations in them with your fingertips, brush them lightly with vanilla yogurt, then sprinkle on the grapes, pushing them gently into the dough. Bake at 400 degrees for 25 minutes or so, just until the dough starts to turn brown around the edges. These are especially good on a rainy fall day!
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