Inspired by Ingredients

David and I receive a CSA box every other week.  When it comes time to look at what is in the box and decide on any changes, it goes something like this:

Krista:  Ooh, I've never eaten celery root before.  We should totally get that.

David:  What would we do with celery root?  Let's get some more kale.

Krista:  I don't know what I'd do with the celery root, that's why we have to get it!

I win only because I'm usually the one to remember to make the changes. 

In our last box, we received something referred to as "seasonal gourds."  They sure were pretty, but I had no idea what they were.  They have the coloring of delicata squash, but are round like kabocha squash.  If you can identify them, please let me know:



The mystery gourds



Right after Halloween, I remember another food blogger hollowing out small pumpkins (I wish I could remember who it was!) and using the flesh as the basis for a soup that was then served inside the pumpkins.  It looked great, and it was a lot healthier than the bread soup bowls I was really craving.  I was serious when I said that I was going to try to eat (mostly) healthy through the holidays, and sadly that means decreasing the number of carbs that I ate from last week's high.

The problem was that once the seeds were removed, the squash didn't have very much meat to them.  I was going to have to get creative.

All right, I missed a couple of seeds. So sue me.

The problem with cooking by the seat of your pants is that you (OK, I) don't stop to write down what I'm doing.  I've attempted to recreate the soup I made with the gourds, which was deliciously creamy and satisfying while staying low in fat.  Garnish the soup with a little something succulent and salty for extra flavor.  I used crispy pancetta for David's bowl, and a smattering of blue cheese for my bowl.  You'll never miss the meat.



I say that, but of course the bowl I took a picture of was the one topped with pancetta!



Creamy Squash Soup

Inspired by flavors from A16 Food+Wine

4 small round edible gourds

4 small red potatoes

4 tbsp. olive oil

2 cups 2% milk

1/2 poblano pepper, seeded and minced

1 small shallot, minced

2 tbsp. crumbled blue cheese

Kosher salt and freshly-ground pepper

 Pan-fried sliced pancetta or blue cheese crumbles for garnish

Preheat the oven to 500 degrees.

Slice the tops from the gourds and set aside.  Scoop the seeds from the gourds and rub all over with one and a half tablespoons of the olive oil. 

Scrub and quarter the potatoes and toss them with half a tablespoon of olive oil, some salt and pepper.

Place the gourds and their lids on a baking sheet and bake for approximately half an hour.  At the half-hour mark, the lids should be done and can be removed.

Add the potatoes to the baking sheet and bake for another twenty minutes, until the potatoes are roasted and the gourds are tender.

Remove the baking sheet from the oven and allow the gourds to cool enough to scoop the flesh out of them.

While the squash are cooling, saute the poblano pepper over medium heat in a tablespoon of the olive oil until it is lightly brown around the edges.  Add the shallots and saute until they are golden.

Scoop the flesh out of the gourds and discard any seeds.  Place the flesh in a food processor, along with the potatoes and a cup of milk.  Process for a minute or two until you have a very thick puree, then add salt and pepper to taste.  Add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and process again. 

Transfer the puree to a small saucepan and add the remaining milk and the shallot/poblano mixture, stirring to combine.  Heat on low until the mixture is thoroughly warmed, then add the crumbled blue cheese.  If the mixture is still too thick, add a bit more milk. 

If desired, add more salt and pepper and serve immediately in the hollowed gourds with a side salad.  The dressing from this post went beautifully with the flavors in the soup (plus I had some left over in the refrigerator).

The soup may be garnished with either thin slices of crispy pancetta or blue cheese crumbles.

Serves four as a main course.

Manic Monday

Ah, Monday.  I can always tell when it's Sunday afternoon because I feel instantly less relaxed and begin preparing for the eventuality:  Monday's coming.

I've talked about starting rehearsals for a play I'm directing called "Inspecting Carol," a mash-up of "Christmas Carol" and "Noises Off"--a small professional theatre company's trials and travails putting on an underrehearsed production of "Christmas Carol" in light of National Endowment for the Arts funding cuts, actors behaving badly and sets falling apart. 

I always feel nervous when I start directing a show.  If it doesn't come together, I'm ultimately responsible because it's my job to be the leader.  (My low point yesterday was when I whined at my husband "Why do I have to be the leader?"  The logical response would be that I have directed a dozen shows, but David knew better than to try logic).  This all gets much better, mind you, when rehearsals actually start.  Anticipation is a killer.

Yesterday afternoon, in advance of our first rehearsal, I combated my stress by cooking.  What started as a slow-cooker chicken chile verde morphed as I realized I didn't have all the ingredients I needed.  Instead, it became a smoky, flavorful and healthy soup of chicken chunks, Guajillo pepper flakes and onion, served over rice.  In other words, the perfect take-to-work lunch.

My lunch, sitting on the chaos that is my desk.

The recipe originally called for a can of minced jalapeños and their juice.  I used a whole dried Guajillo pepper, pounded in my mortar and pestle, which added the smoky flavor but not much heat.  It takes a couple of minutes longer, but I would recommend using either a good dried pepper or fresh poblanos, depending on what you have available.

Slow-Cooker Guajillo Chicken Soup
Adapted from Slow Cooker:FoodMadeFast

3 lb. boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut in 1-inch cubes
1 large dried Guajillo pepper, pounded in a mortar and pestle
2 cups chicken broth
2 tbsp. rice wine vinegar
1 large yellow onion, diced
5 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. dried fennel seeds


Look at the pretty new backsplash!

 1 tbsp. hot sauce, plus more to taste
Salt and fresh-ground black pepper to taste

Sour cream, chopped cilantro and white rice, for serving

In the pot of the slow cooker, add the chicken breast chunks and sprinkle the pepper over them.  Then add the broth, onion, oregano, garlic and fennel seed.


Here it is just going into the slow cooker.  Not so appealingat this point--it gets better!

Set the slow cooker to cook for four hours on high heat.  At the halfway point, add the hot sauce and vinegar and taste the broth.  Add more hot sauce or vinegar if it needs more heat or acid, plus salt and pepper to taste.


Now that's a better color.  The soup took on the color of the pepper, along with a hit of color from the hot sauce.

Serve over rice with the sour cream and cilantro.  If you have lemon or lime wedges on hand, serve on the side for squeezing over the soup.


There's no added fat in this soup;  to keep it healthy, I served it with reduced-fat sour cream.

Serves 6 as a main course.

In Praise of Oktober: Cooking with Beer

Yes, you read that title right.  Friday was the start of Anchorage's Oktoberfest, which obviously doesn't have a patch on the German version but is a much-loved event.  Polka bands, dancing, beer songs, and of course lots and lots of different kinds of beer.

I'm not a beer drinker.  With that said, I like the flavor of beer in food.  It gives a rich, malty quality to chili, tastes good in mussel dishes and--most especially-- is the essential flavor in beef carbonnade.

I first learned about this dish when David and I went to Brussels last year.  Although I picked a great hotel near the subway line, it wasn't particularly close to any interesting restaurants.  We wandered around and around our first night there and finally went into a undistinguished-looking little café.  The menu wasn't huge or varied, but there was the expected large beer list and the best dish I ate in Brussels:  beef carbonnade.

This is essentially a beef stew flavored with dark beer, either Belgian or Belgian-style.  The Midnight Sun Brewery in Anchorage makes a dark Belgian-style ale called Monk's Mistress, and I appreciate the local connection.  Sure, you could always use Chimay, but it might be fun to try a local beer.



Seriously, who gets the job of naming these things? 

This is Oktoberfest food:  full-flavored and hearty, tasting of fall. 

Beef Carbonnade (Belgian Beef Stew with Dark Beer)
Adapted from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything and Bon Appetit Magazine

2 lbs. beef top round, trimmed of fat and tendon and cubed
All-purpose flour
4 tbsp. olive oil
2 large yellow onions, sliced into thick rounds
2 tbsp. unsalted butter
3 tbsp. brown sugar
6 garlic cloves, peeled and sliced
4  bay leaves
20 oz. dark Belgian or Belgian-style beer
2 cups beef broth, plus more to thin stew if needed
1/2 tsp. fresh thyme leaves
3 tbsp. red wine vinegar
1/4 chopped fresh parsley
Salt and fresh-ground pepper to taste

Dredge the beef cubes in flour.  Heat three tablespoons of oil in a large Dutch oven until shimmering.  Add the beef to the hot oil in batches--making sure not to overcrowd the cubes.  You don't want to overload the pan, otherwise the meat will steam rather than brown.  Brown each batch of cubes thoroughly, then drain on paper towels.

When the beef cubes are done, add the butter and last tablespoon of oil to the pan and stir to release the brown bits on the bottom.  Add the onions, sugar, the last tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of red wine vinegar.  Sauté the onions until caramelized and soft, approximately 20 minutes.

When the onions are done, add the beef, beer, stock, garlic, bay leaves and thyme to the pot.  Cover the pot and simmer on the lowest heat for at least 1 hour and 45 minutes, until the beef is very tender.  Stir occasonally and add the last two tablespoons of red wine vinegar about half an hour from the end of the cooking time. 



The steam keeps it from being totally clear, but the stew thickens beautifully.  If you need to thin it, add extra stock.  If you like it thicker, use a flour-water slurry.

Add salt and freshly-ground pepper to taste.  Serve over hot egg noodles and sprinkle with parsley. 

Serves 4-6 as a main course.

Food/wine pairing:  Actually, beer might be the better choice here.  Drink a lighter-style Belgian ale, a German wheat beer or a stout.  If you prefer wine, try a Cabernet/Syrah blend such as Charles and Charles from Washington State.

Italian Wedding Soup: Minestra Maritata

So why exactly is it called Italian Wedding Soup? 

If you have the sort of mind like mine, where you have to know these sorts of things, it's because the ingredients go so well together that they are said to be married, or maritata.  I love the idea of a traditional soup eaten at Italian weddings, but sadly that's a no-go.  Too bad:  I had a wonderful image of a raucous Italian wedding party, sitting on a hillside near a vineyard, doling out ladlefuls of this soup.  Sigh.

As the weather gets rainier and we slide toward fall, my thoughts turn naturally toward steamy, chunky bowls of soup.  What--yours don't?  This soup has the added advantage of being chock-full of vegetables and reasonably healthy.  Even my toughest critic, Ingrid, seated herself at the table in anticipation.



No, she doesn't get to eat people food, but she thinks she should.

Another advantage of this soup is that it goes together fast, making it perfect for a weeknight.  It was also a great excuse to use two of my favorite ingredients, fresh Italian chicken sausage and pepperoncini peppers.

Minestra Maritata

Adapted from A16 Food + Wine

1 bunch Swiss chard

1/2 head Napa cabbage
2 celery stalks
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 bay leaf
1/4 tsp. dried red chile flakes, or 1 small red pepperoncino pepper
1 lb. fresh chicken sausage, chopped into small chunks
6 plus cups of low-sodium chicken broth
Optional:  good-quality parmesan for grating

Start a large pot of water boiling with a pinch of salt.  I recommend using a stockpot or other heavy-bottomed pot.

Slice the stems away from the leaves of the Swiss chard.  Roughly chop both the leaves and the stems, but keep them in separate piles because they have different cooking times.

Roughly chop the Napa cabbage into small chunks and set aside.  Dice the two stalks of celery.

Once the water is boiling, add the chard stems and cook for 5-6 minutes, or until firm but not tough.  Remove the stems with a wire strainer or a slotted spoon, drain and set aside.  Then add the chard leaves, and cook for a scant 3 minutes until just wilted.  Lift those from the water with the same strainer, drain and set aside.  Finally, add the cabbage and cook for 3 minutes.  Likewise, lift the cabbage out of the water, drain and set aside.  The cooked vegetables are combined from this time forward, so you can have them all together.

Drain the pot and give it a rinse.  Put it back on medium heat and add all of the olive oil.  When the oil is warmed, add the celery, garlic, bay leaf and red pepper.  Stir occasionally until the garlic is just golden and starting to soften.

Add the chunks of sausage and stir until browned and they renders their fat.  Then add the greens and 4 cups of chicken broth to start.  If your soup, like mine, looks like more stew than soup and you want a brothier mix, add stock to the desired consistency.  Taste the soup to see what it needs:  I added a sprinkle of fresh-ground black pepper.

Cook for 5 minutes and remove from heat.  This is especially good if served in warm bowls with a sprinkling of good parmesan melted over it.

Serves 4-6 as a main course;  up to 8 as a first course or appetizer. 

Recommended side:  Sauteed zucchini with a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper.  I also made "croutons" with chunks of two-day old, toasted baguette.

Suggested wine pairing:  Rosé, gewurtztraminer, or bone-dry riesling.

You Call THIS August?

Alaskan Augusts are kind of unfortunate.  Sunny, high-60s days give way to rainy, damp, gray days.  On the plus side, it's now dark enough to easily get to sleep at night.  On the minus, you become all too aware of the fast slide into autumn, which--if we're lucky--is all of about two weeks in late September or early October.

I don't know about you, but this kind of weather makes me think about soup.  Hearty, hot, soulful food that I think of as fueling another day of work or marathon training.  It was in this frame of mind that I came across A16's Borlotti Bean and Mussel Zuppa with Zucchini and Grilled Bread.  This recipe is great enough to stand up to modifications:  small clams instead of mussels, dried cannellini beans for the borlottis.  If A16's version is better than the modified one, I don't want to hear it.

The recipe is a cinch, as long as you soak the beans the night before.

Alaskan-ized Zuppa with Clams and Zucchini
Adapted from A16 Food + Wine
Four main course servings

1 cup dried cannellini beans, picked over and soaked overnight
1.5 lbs. small clams in their shells
4 cloves garlic, crushed
2 small zucchini, diced
1/4 tsp. dried red chile flakes
12 slices baguette, cut 1/2 inch thick
2 tbsp. chopped basil
olive oil
kosher salt
fresh pepper

Drain the cannellini beans and rinse.  Start a fire in the grill for the bread, or preheat the oven to 450 degrees.  In a large, heavy pot, warm two tablespoons of olive oil on low heat.  Add the garlic and stir until fragrant, about three minutes.  The garlic should color but not scorch.  Increase the heat to medium and stir in the zucchini.  Sautee for about five minutes, until the zucchini colors.

Add another tablespoon of olive oil, the chile flakes and the clams.  Cover the pot and cook on medium until the clams open.  Skim the clams out, making sure not to lose any of the liquid.  Remove the clamshells, then return the clams and any liquid to the cooking pot.  Add the beans, season with salt and pepper to taste and simmer on low for five minutes.

Put the bread right on the grill or, if using the oven, on a cookie sheet.  I recommend brushing both sides with olive oil and sprinkling with salt and pepper.  Cook until at least golden;  don't be afraid to let the bread get grill marks--it gives it a fabulously smoky flavor.

When the bread is ready, remove the soup from the heat.  Sprinkle the bowls with the basil and serve.