A Season of its Own

"Oh how we love pumpkin season. You did know this gourd-ish squash has its own season, right? Winter, Spring, Summer, Pumpkin.... We anxiously anticipate it every year." ~Trader Joe's Fearless Flyer, October 2010

If you still have a pumpkin left from Halloween and Thanksgiving, you may be ready about now to pitch it in the trash and start your Christmas decorating. Stop! That decorative pumpkin is loaded with great flavor and lots of vitamins. You can cook it and serve it in a variety of ways – a side dish (it is a squash!), or use it to make soup, pancakes, muffins, bread, or pies.

Here’s the easiest way to cook a pumpkin:

1. Cut the pumpkin crosswise in half. Use a big knife. This is the  toughest part of the whole process.

2. Scoop out the seeds.

3, Place on a cookie sheet with edges, the pumpkin face down. Add a small amount of water to the tray, to help create steam.

Bake at 350 degrees until done. Approximately 30 minute to an hour, depending on the size of the pumpkins.

Test with a fork. When it pierces the skin easily, it’s ready.

After it cools enough to handle, the skin will peel off easily, leaving a lovely golden vegetable ready to be mashed or pureed. The color of fresh pumpkin is so different than that of canned pumpkin! What exactly do they add to canned version? If you have the space, you can package any extra pumpkin in plastic containers and freeze. It keeps well for months. I usually measure what I need for various recipes.

Here’s a few recipes for your fresh pumpkin

Pureed Pumpkin side dish:

Add cinnamon and brown sugar to taste. Maple syrup is also good. You can add some butter and salt if you like as well. Heat in the microwave. Enjoy with pork, salmon, or chicken.

Easy Low Fat Pumpkin Soup: 4 servings (1 1/2 cups each)

1/4 cup chopped onion

2 cups pureed pumpkin

1/4 tsp ginger

1 cup evaporated milk

1 cup skim milk
2 cups hot water
1 tsp maple syrup (can substitute with pancake syrup)

Directions: Microwave onions and 1/4 cup water in until onions are tender in a large microwavable bowl. Add the rest of the ingredients and microwave on high for 6 to 7 minutes or until heated through, stirring every two minutes. NOTE: You can also prepare this soup on the stove

Autumn Pumpkin Bread or Rolls (bread maker recipe)

1/2 cup diced carrots, cooked and pureed (you can use baby carrots to save time)

1/2 cup pureed pumpkin

1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce

*1/4 cup water

1 1/2 Tbsp butter or margarine

2 Tbsp honey

1 1/2 tsp salt

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/2 cups bread flour
1/4 tsp allspice
2 tsp active dry yeast

Place all ingredients in bread pan according to your bread machine directions. Select medium crust setting and the whole wheat cycle or the dough cycle for 12 dinner rolls.

For the rolls, when the dough cycle is completed, shape the rolls and place in 9 inch round pans or on a cookie tray. Cover and let rise in a warm place for 20-30 minutes. Hint: preheat your oven to warm or 200 degrees, then TURN OFF before you put the rolls in to rise.

Enjoy this special fruit with a season of its own. Bon appetit!

A Pumpkin Pie Sort of Woman...

Recently, my friend, Beth wrote an excellent piece on OpenSalon.com, entitled "I Like the Pie" All about coconut cream pie. Such a delicious and funny story that I e-mailed her to tell her how I could taste her pie.

Just reading her essay, I added, resulted in a weight gain even though I didn't like coconut cream pie.

She wrote back and asked me what kind of pie I liked. I didn't hesitate. Why, pumpkin, of course.

My answer didn't seem to surprise Beth since she could visualize me as a "pumpkin pie sort of woman." That got me thinking. What exactly is a "pumpkin pie sort of woman?" Could I be on the track of a whole new way to define personality? I decided to test it out by asking some family members and friends what kind of "pie man or woman" they were. Some of the answers surprised me; some didn't. One thing I did discover was how much fun it can be to consider ourselves in a light hearted and unexpected way.

Pick a color: Grandson John's answer didn't surprise me. Color helped determine his choice: Blue. "A relaxed color," he says, "I am very laid back and blueberry is low key, but delicious." A sophomore in college, John is the only person I know who seems both laid back and focused. That's not an easy feat!

Laura concurs with John, but takes it a step further. Then again, what can I expect of a fellow writer who wrotes both prose and poetry? "Blueberry is so vivid, decadently gooey and rich as King Arthur's Court…blueberry is earthy and darkly mysterious. It smacks of fingerpainting and opulence, wild bears in Alaska—all neatly packaged into an oozing purple mess. Blueberry pie is contradictory and complicated…"

Consider a singing apple: Jackie, who I've always seen as an upbeat person had this to say: "The apples of a new season are crisp, sometimes a bit tart, but pleasing. That's me, and apple pie, desiring to please and surprise, to bring a smile. (Do apples "sing?" I do!)"

Dare to dissent: Beth, my favorite niece, is always honest and she didn't disappoint when put to the pie test. "The real truth about what kind of pie I would be —None! I'm more of a homemade chocolate cake. Soft, comforting, friendly welcoming, true to the end, and it gets you through the best and worst times. Why would I want to be a pie that only comes out during the holidays when chocolate cake is there all year long—day in and day out?"

Search for versatility: Tracie, who provides help whenever she's at the library desk, chooses cherry. "Each piece of fruit is compact, individual, and always offers a surprise. Sometimes sweet, sometimes not, but definitely not always what you're expecting."

Go for the unexpected: Richard and Sandy, both fellow bloggers, went for pecan. Individualists, these two, who look beyond the traditional fruit pie mindset.
Richard says, "Like I see myself, pecan pie is a little nutty, but sweet. Crusty, too. "

Sandy, who also happens to be my daughter, on the other hand, opts for the view that "it is the sort of sweet that makes you feel at home and that's what I want to do for my partner, Julie." She has loved the "brown sugary flavor" of pecan pie since she was young. One of my favorite pictures of all times is with her holding our grandson, Joe, and looking with adoration at one of my home baked pecan pies many Thanksgivings ago. I think Joe is also looking at it, too!

Feed the world: I loved all the answers, but my all time favorite has to be my neighbor and friend, Steve's. "As someone who has always liked to be liked, I would want to be a pizza pie. Who doesn't like pizza? One of my fantasies is to be able to start a huge pizza manufacturing company. I would then ship pizzas all over the world, especially to the most impoverished areas. It would all be done anonymously and freely under the banner of 'Pizzas for Peace.'"

As far as me, Beth is right—I am a "pumpkin pie kind of woman." Like pumpkin pie, I search for authenticity in my life and relationships—no drama, please, just pure, uncomplicated and unconditional love. Yet, I hope to always add some spice to my interactions, too, just like that wonderful taste and aroma cinnamon brings to that dear pumpkin.

So, what kind of pie woman or man are you? If you're having trouble deciding, one of my interviewees told me while she was pondering her answer, a coworker googled the concept and found the following website:
 http://www.blogthings.com/whatkindofpieareyouquiz.
I resisted checking it out until I finished this entry. Now I think I'll go see what it suggests…

And by the way, Beth, what kind of pie woman are you? I have trouble seeing you as coconut cream pie…

The Last Harvest of Summer

"Lord, it is time. The summer was very big. Lay thy shadow on the sundials, and on the meadows let the winds go loose. Command the last fruits that they shall be full; give them another two more southerly days, press them on to fulfillment…"

-     Rainer Maria Rilke

Several days ago, while driving home from my writers' group meeting, I saw a most beautiful sight — monarch butterflies floating through the sky like gigantic orange snowflakes. So lovely, so fragile, these harbingers of fall. Like me, they also do not want summer to end. Some linger on the goldenrod on the sand dunes drinking in the sweet nectar of the still warm sun.

Yet, it is time for them to go. Autumn will begin as it always does. But before I put the summer season to rest, I go outside to pick the last vestiges of basil. I bury my nose in the sweet fragrance. I love basil; it's the essence of summer. And I lament its passing.

I read a gardening article once in which someone referred to basil as the wimpy herb. I don't agree. It's a robust, wise herb, a distinctive and discriminating herb that chooses not to continue growing once the cold sets in, just as the monarch is wise enough to migrate.

Before the basil grows woody and the leaves drop, I pick as much as I can to give it that one last hurrah. I've tried freezing and drying, but the wonderfully unique taste pales, so instead, I celebrate basil's royalty by making pesto.

Pesto is a great way to use up your basil as well as your tomatoes. You can freeze pesto in ice cube trays and use a small amount in a dip, soup, pasta, on grilled chicken, or in bread recipes.Here's a few of my favorite recipes:

Tomato Pesto Sauce: This also helps use up some of the parsley and tomatoes in your garden. Serves approx. 8
1 cup fresh basil leaves .
½ cup parsley

2 garlic cloves

¼ to ⅓ freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese (I prefer Romano)

1/4 cup olive oil
3 Tbsp. pine nuts
2 cloves of garlic
1 large seeded tomato
2 Tbsp chicken broth (Add less or more depending on how thick you like your pesto sauce)

1. Place all ingredients in a food processor and blend, either chopped or smooth depending on preference.
2. A serving is usually about ¼ cup per person. Mix with pasta or baste grilled chicken or fish.

NOTE: This pesto sauce recipe is not the characteristic green because tomato is added.

Pesto sauce: For the purists who prefer the traditional green. Serves approx. 4
                                      

      1 cup fresh basil leaves

       2 cloves of garlic

       ⅓ cup freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese

       3 Tbsp. pine nuts                                    

      ⅔ cup chicken or vegetable broth (Add less if you like a thicker sauce)

  

1. Place all ingredients in a food processor and blend, either chopped or    smooth depending on preference.
2. A serving is usually about ¼ cup per person. Mix with pasta or baste grilled chicken or fish.


Bread Machine Pesto Bread: Another wonderful way to enjoy the bounty of your garden.

1 cup buttermilk (I always keep powdered buttermilk on hand for recipes)
⅓ cup dry white wine
3 Tbsp freshly grated Parmesan cheese
3 Tbsp pesto
3 ⅓ cups bread flour
2 cloves of garlic
1 Tbsp sugar

¾tsp salt

1 tsp active dry yeast or bread machine yeast

Add ingredients to machine according to manufacturer's directions. I prefer using the dough cycle, then shaping rolls or use a bread loaf pan, but this bread works just as well on the basic baking cycle. If you use the dough cycle, when finished, punch the dough down, then shape, place in a greased pan. Cover and let rise for 30 minutes. Bake at 350º for 10 to 15 minutes for rolls, 20 minutes for a loaf, or until brown.

NOTE: Pesto can also be made using a mortar and pestle if you don't have a food processor. It will take a little longer, but definitely burn more calories! I have an Italian friend who wouldn't do it any other way.

Once my pesto is ready, I pour a glass of wine to toast this last harvest of summer. I look out the window and see a few stray monarchs floating by. "Go," I whisper, "Go. It's time. Fly away to your next summer place."

For "…now in September the garden has cooled…
The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart
from the intense midsummer relationship that
                    brought it..."                           Robert Finch

A Place to Nourish Your Soul

"You mix it with your love and emotion to create magic. Through cooking, you raise your spiritual level and balance yourself in a world that is materialistic." Laura Esqiuvel, Like Water for Chocolate

Everyone has a favorite room in their house. Mine is the kitchen, though, it wasn't always so. Several lifetimes ago, as I approached my wedding day, my then-future husband began suggesting that perhaps I should be spending time with my mother learning how to cook. I brushed off his increasing insistence, saying, "If I can read, I can cook."

After we'd been married for a few months, he confessed his parents had been teasing him, telling him he would starve once we were married since I didn't know how to cook. "Just a pretty face," my future father-in-law had said, "That isn't going to keep you from getting hungry."

I must admit for the first few months of our marriage we did exist mostly on love. My meals were definitely substandard, but dear Will quickly learned not to tell me so. Ah, discretion, another secret of a long, happy marriage. But that's a subject for another time…

Gradually, my skills improved until even my in-laws, especially my father-in-law, looked forward to coming to Sunday dinners at our house. Still, it wasn't until I returned to work that I truly realized my kitchen as a refuge and my spiritual place. I'd come home frazzled by all the work politics and problems, too tired to cook, I'd think, until I started to prepare the food.      

I began to notice that by the time dinner was ready to put on the table, a smoothing of my frayed nerves had occurred. The simple task of making a salad, peeling potatoes, or stirring the spaghetti sauce became the respite I needed to reflect on the day and my life.

A few years ago, I bought a small book entitled The Mindful Cook by Isaac Cronin. Cronin says "you can nourish your soul, develop your mind, and eat well at the same time!" That sentence, as well as, the rest of this neat tome gave me a new perspective on the everyday task of time in the kitchen.

The idea of combining those three elements into necessary tasks intrigued me. And the author gave what I already knew a voice and a mindfulness I didn't realize was possible - that by intentionally putting myself in a spiritual frame of mind, my kitchen would be even more the place where I could always retreat and find harmony.

Here's some tips on how you, too, can bring mindfulness to your cooking:

1. Make the kitchen uniquely yours by adding a color you especially like. My favorite is teal and the backsplash is the area I see most.
2. Put favorite pictures or paintings where you can view them while you're preparing food. I've placed pictures of my two sets of grandchildren, over my stove so I can send them my love, thoughts, and prayers. Somehow, I know those thoughts do fly across the miles to kiss them even though my positive regard may not be consciously received.
3. Be fully present by centering on one task at a time. Multitasking may be in vogue, but it's definitely overrated and more stressful!
4. Mentally quiet yourself so you can really see the color of deep red summer tomatoes, smell the pungent aroma of rosemary, and feel the texture of  papery parchment covered onions.
5. Be good to yourself even if it's a meal for one. In the early Julia Child TV shows (I'm talking black and white here, at least at my house), once the meal was ready, she sat down alone, wine glass in hand, to eat and savor what she'd prepared. 

So, whether you're toasting a bagel, making sticky buns (one of my favorites), or roasting a turkey, eating alone or with others, you can bring spiritual nourishment to the kitchen and table. Somehow, the food tastes even better when mixed with joy and mindfulness.

Bon Appetit!