Squashed Doubts

It's looking more like winter here now--last night, while I was cooking dinner, snow gently drifted down while failing to amount to much of anything.  I remain excited to see the snow, even isolated flakes of it, but David is insistent that if his fall biking is over, it had better snow enough to start skiing.



The view out our dining-room window in late afternoon.

I'm in rehearsal most nights after work and both days on the weekend, so there's no chance I could ski even if I was good at skiing, which I'm not.  That's a task I add to my to-do list every winter:  get better at cross-country skiing.  And every winter, without fail, something more interesting and/or pressing comes along.

You heard it here:  this is the year.

Last night was the last Friday night I will be home before the show opens the day after Thanksgiving.  I didn't know what I was going to make when I came home, so I did one of my patented pantry raids* where I survey the refrigerator and pantry and try to come up with something fabulous.  Fortunately, it was CSA box week, so the odds were increasingly good that I would come up with something worth eating to go with the lamb chops David bought.

When we schedule what to receive in the CSA box, I always try to order things that either I'm not going to find in Alaska or that I've never cooked with before.  One of these things is Delicata squash, which I had never even tasted.  Not a clue what to do with it.



I'm so attracted to color--admit it, this is one pretty squash.

News flash:  Delicata squash, while slightly sweet, makes the perfect basis for a savory fall side dish. 

Twice-Baked Delicata Squash

Adapted from a Recipe by Ruben Gomez

2 Delicata squash, ends trimmed, halved and with seeds removed

1/4 cup pine nuts

1 leek, white and green parts only, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

3/4 cup pecorino romano cheese, finely grated

4 tbsp. breadcrumbs, preferably fresh

2 tbsp. reduced-fat milk

1.5 tsp. fresh thyme, chopped

2 tbsp. olive oil

1/4 tsp. nutmeg (I grated my own;  nutmeg from a jar will be fine)

Kosher salt and fresh-ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Take each half of squash and brush it with olive oil;  sprinkle with the salt, pepper and nutmeg. 

Place the squash halves cut side down on a baking sheet or other oven-safe pan.  Cook for twenty minutes, then flip the squash halves over and cook for another twenty minutes.

While the squash is cooking, make the stuffing.  Warm the remaining olive oil in a small skillet and warm it;  add the leeks and sauté until lightly golden.  Add the pine nuts and sauté until the nuts are lightly toasted.  Remove the skillet from the heat.

Combine 1/2 cup of the cheese, along with the breadcrumbs and thyme, in a medium bowl.  When the squash is done, gently scoop out the flesh, taking care not to tear the skins.  Add the scooped-out squash to the bowl with the breadcrumb mixture.  Add the milk and fold to combine well.

Fill the squash skins with the stuffing and sprinkle the remaining cheese over them.  Bake for another eight to ten minutes until the stuffing is warmed through the cheese on top melts.

Serves four;  could easily be doubled.

*Sorry, bad pun, but an accurate description.  Picture me racing back and forth between my pantry and the refrigerator trying to determine what can be combined to make a decent dish.

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.