Spicy Squash and Coconut Soup with Toasted Squash Seeds

When this is what it looks like outside:

Then you need THIS inside:

Acorn squash, chickpeas, and tons of great vegetables pureed into a thick base with coconut and a unique little surprise mixed in.  For years my family has eaten the one part of the pumpkin (or squash) that most people probably wouldn't dream of eating.  Slimy, coated in stringiness from the inside of the pumpkin, not really that appetizing, the seeds don't seem all that interesting.  But roasted in butter and salt to crispy, crunchy perfection - addictive.

See those seeds peeking out from under the pile of coconut?  Perfection.  Of course, I couldn't go the conventional direction, oh no, roasting in the oven for an hour or more wasn't happening!  That would take too much time as the pot bubbled away on the stove.  What to do, what to do?  I've had a certain amount of success toasting coconut on the stove, combined with lots of stirring, and nuts as well, why not the seeds from the acorn squash?  Let's just say it worked beautifully, really, however the kitchen was a bit of a war zone.  Turns out toasting squash seeds only have to hit a critical point to turn into projectiles, and those little pests HURT when they hit you.  Have your lid handy and drop it on at the first sign of popping, and you won't have to dodge super-hot, super-sharp seeds in a frantic dash to the stove.

Even if you forget, it's still worth it.  Trust me.

 Spicy Squash and Coconut Soup with Toasted Squash Seeds

Adapted loosely from the New England Soup Factory Cookbook

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 red onion, peeled and diced

3 large carrots, peeled and diced

5 stalks celery, diced

1 clove garlic, chopped

1 acorn squash, peeled, seeded (SAVE THOSE SEEDS!), and chopped

2 diced tomatoes or 1 15 oz can diced tomatoes

1 15 oz can chickpeas, drained

2 cups chicken stock (slightly more if necessary)

1/4 cup soy sauce

2 tablespoons lime juice

1 tablespoon ginger

1 tablespoon coriander

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 15 oz can coconut milk

1/4 tsp bird's eye pepper (or other hot pepper)

1/2 to 3/4 cup shredded coconut, sweetened or unsweetened

Salt and pepper

Heat olive oil in 8 quart stockpot over medium-high heat.  Add onion, carrots, celery, and garlic.  Saute for five to ten minutes.  Add squash and saute five minutes more.  Add tomatoes, chickpeas, stock, soy sauce, lime juice, ginger, coriander, and brown sugar.  If the stock does not barely cover the vegetables you may want to add a little more.  Simmer for 20 to 30 minutes until the squash and other vegetable are very tender.

Meanwhile, wash the squash seeds.  Melt a tablespoon of butter in a small frying pan over medium heat.  Increase heat to medium high and add squash seeds.  Salt generously and stir.  Once the seeds have dried out and the butter has mostly evaporated, put lid on pan.  Try not to let squash seeds fly all over the kitchen.  Stir frequently and quickly, mostly keeping the lid on, until well toasted.  Remove from heat.

Once vegetable are tender remove soup from heat.  Add a can of coconut milk and the hot pepper.  Puree the soup in batches in a blender or with an immersion blender.  (I consider the immersion blender a much safer option, and extremely useful tool.  No hot soup flying around the kitchen!  As long as you keep it submerged...)  Add shredded coconut, toasted seeds, salt, and pepper.  Stir.  Serve hot. 

Olive Oil Nectarine Salad Dressing

I have become obsessed with salad dressing.  I have also become obsessed with making creamy things healthier for me.  Two cups of sour cream in how much soup?  No thank you...  Although, oddly enough, creamy dressing has never been my thing.  Give me Italian dressing with oodles of garlic any day!  That is, until I discovered the wonders of adding fruit to my dressing.  One nectarine, and the whole thing becomes lovely, creamy, and subtly sweet.  Oh, and still garlicky.  There is no salad dressing without garlic.

I have also become obsessed with picnics.  What is it about eating outside that makes everything taste better?  It's just like the way that a bitingly cold day makes soup or chicken and dumplings or some other chunky, heavy, comfort-foodie thing so darned good, isn't it?  Eat a nice summer salad or something grilled or some fresh fruit outside, and it automatically just tastes better!  So I didn't just put this salad dressing on some lettuce and call it a day, no, the Resident Taste Taster, a friend, and I took it on a picnic.  This is where we went:

If eating outside makes food taste amazing, then eating outside with a beautiful view makes food taste like heaven.  And this wasn't even a bad drive!  I highly encourage you to Google around, find a new park in your own backyard, make some salad dressing (and a salad, err, even I won't just drink the stuff), and take off!  It will feel like a vacation, even in the middle of the week.

Olive Oil Nectarine Salad Dressing

Adapted from How Sweet It is

One clove of garlic makes this garlicky.  Two cloves make this GARLICKY.  Add garlic according to your preference.  (I am sure you can guess what I did.)

1 large nectarine, cut into several large pieces

1/4 cup plus two tablespoons olive oil, or more if you want a thinner dressing

3 tablespoons white wine vinegar

1 to 2 cloves garlic, minced

Salt

Pepper  

Place all ingredients in blender, adding salt and pepper to taste.  Puree until mixture is smooth.  Flecks of nectarine skin will remain.  Check the thickness of your dressing and gradually add more olive oil, pureeing as you go, to reach the consistency you desire.  Serve over your favorite salad and enjoy!

Black Raspberry Pie

Let me set something straight about raspberries - there is no such thing as a "raspberry".  There are black raspberries.  There are red raspberries.  There are even golden and purple raspberries.  But there is no such thing as a straight-up "raspberry". 

I say this because I feel very strongly about knowing where one's food comes from, and when it comes right down to it, that means understanding, quite literally, where one's food comes from.  Black raspberries develop on canes.  Blueberries come off of bushes.  Peaches, nectarines, and cherries all grow on trees.  And every.  Single.  One.  Of these things come in not one, or two, or even three different varieties, but many, many, many different types.  This was driven home for me in the last few weeks when a friend mentioned that up until very recently she hadn't realized that there was more than one variety of peach.  Oh but there are!  Freestone, non-freestone, red and white.  Burbank, Contender, Reliance, even Saturn, which look a little like someone took beautiful round peaches and stomped them flat.  Grocery stores fool us (and do us a disservice) by simply labeling everything as "white peach", "red plum", "nectarine", etc.  They do it with everything, and as much as I am at their mercy (for now), that doesn't mean I have to like it.

This leads to an embarrassing confession - the Resident Taste Tester didn't even realize that black raspberries were a real thing until long after he met me.  What was I THINKING?  Shouldn't the fruit test have come in the first WEEK?  Shouldn't I have drilled him and held lessons until he knew things inside and out?  How did it take that long for him to know that black raspberries, the single best fruit on the planet, exist?

Because, seriously, they are the single best fruit on the planet.  I believe this so strongly that I am willing to suffer for them.  See?  Proof:

Both arms, covered, and even some on my legs.  The only way to avoid the exorbitant price for berries, to make sure they are fresh, and to get the whole, true, complete experience of being one with the food you eat is to pick your own.  And even though I spent literally days scouting the Internet for pick-your-own black raspberries and we drove an hour to get them, it was worth it.

Please pick your own fruits and vegetables some time.  Even if you aren't black raspberry-obsessed like I am, even if you aren't enthusiastic enough to get in there and suffer for love of them, take your children, your spouse, your friends, and pick your own fruit and vegetables when you can.  Fruit plants, especially, can seem like foreign objects.  They tend to a take a lot more commitment and care than a simple vegetable garden.  But it is worth getting out there to see the bounty and appreciate the local farmers who do put the time and love into this produce.  Plus, and believe me when I say this, you can't beat the flavor.

Black Raspberry Pie

Adapted from Crisco (crust) and Better Homes and Gardens (filling).

This pie is fantastic.  The crust is the same crust I always use.  What?  No butter? You ask.  No, no butter.  I have made butter pie crusts.  In fact, I remember a particularly embarrassing, gummy peach pie crust, which was the last one I ever made.  So sad.  What a waste of delicious peaches.  The filling is simple, as it should be.  Nothing should cover the flavor of a good black raspberry.

Oh, and should you want to pick your own, I have picked at the Champaign Berry Farm, but the berries for this pie were from Moreland Fruit Farm.  Both lovely places.  Also, should the need for pick-your-own strawberries, peaches, or apples strike (at the appropriate times of year, of course), I highly, highly recommend Legend Hills Orchard.  All of these places have the kindest people, the nicest facilities, and the fairest prices I have found.  Please enjoy yourselves, and have respect for the hard work that the owners and operators put into their fields.  These places are gems.

Crust:

2 2/3 cups flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup vegetable shortening

Milk

Extra flour for rolling

Filling:

6 cups black raspberries

3/4 cup sugar

2 tablespoons cornstarch

For the crust, stir flour and salt together.  Cut in shortening with a pastry cutter or two knives until the mixture reaches the consistency of small peas.  Gently stir in milk a splash at a time until the crust holds together and is not crumbly.  The less handling, the better, to avoid toughening it.  

For the filling, stir together black raspberries, sugar, and cornstarch in a large bowl.  Set aside.

Divide crust in half.  Roll one half out on a well-floured surface until it reaches at least an inch and a half in all directions outside the base of a nine-inch pie pan.  Gently lift pie dough and drape across dish, nudging it down into all the corners.  If it tears, don't worry, simply press it back together.  

Pour filling into prepared bottom crust.

Roll out the remaining half of the pie dough on a well-floured surface so that it reaches about an inch outside of a nine-inch pie plate on all sides.  Drape rolled dough over filling.  Using the overhanging portions of both the bottom and top crusts, crimp the crust around the edge of the plate.  You may flute it, as I did, or simply press the crust together.  There may be some areas where there is an excess of dough.  Simply tear these pieces off and set them aside.  They are a bonus (see below)!  Once the edge of the pie is well-sealed, use a knife to cut a design in the top of the pie.  For black raspberry, I use a sunburst, but you may be as creative as you like.  Do not forget these vents.  They are very important for proper cooking and to avoid overflow.

Heat oven to 375 degrees.  Bake pie for 30 minutes, then remove and carefully crimp tin foil around the edge in order to avoid overbrowning.  Bake for an additional 25 minutes.  Remove from oven and allow to cool completely before slicing so that the pie gels properly.  Slice and serve plain, with whipped cream, or ala mode!

Extra Pie Crust Bits

Extra pie crust from pie

Cinnamon-sugar mixture of whatever ratio you like

Line a cookie pan with tin foil that has been sprayed with vegetable spray or buttered.  Place extra pie crust pieces on tin foil in no particular order.  Sprinkle with cinnamon-sugar mixture.  Bake immediately after the pie comes out of the oven at 375 degrees for 15 minutes.  Leave on pan because it isn't worth dirtying a container.  They won't last that long.

Grilled Mushroom Salad with Sauteed Garlic Scapes

 

I am really into fresh food right now.  Since we are still at least a month outside of tomato/cucumber/bean/corn season though (*sigh*), I have to make due with what I can get.  And what I can get happens to be mushrooms.  

I am also really into grilling right now.  Two years ago for our second anniversary I got the Resident Taste Tester a tiny, cute, adorable charcoal Weber grill, just big enough for the two of us.  We used it off and on, but nothing like this year, where it has come out once or twice a week.  Think barbecue pork chops...grilled pizza...fajitas...and these grilled mushrooms.  Tossed in a salad with fresh lettuce (from my own garden, where else?), toasted almonds, shallot vinaigrette, and those garlic scapes I may have mentioned up top, and we might have raved more about this salad than the main event that day (which happened to be the pork chops, just sayin').

Each of the components in this salad take a fairly simple treatment.  Mushrooms tossed in olive oil, salt, and pepper go on the grill.  Slivered almonds toast in a skillet in a leisurely way while you cut up garlic scapes, which then replace the almonds in the skillet with olive oil, salt, and pepper themselves.  Shallots soften up in white wine vinegar before being whisked with olive oil as well.  Hmm...that may have been a lot of olive oil...  But truly, it was a little bit at a time, here and there, and you don't want to miss it, not one bit.

Grilled Mushroom Salad with Sauteed Garlic Scapes

Dressing adapted from Smitten Kitchen, salad developed by yours truly.

Don't have garlic scapes?  Don't know what they are?  Not a fan of garlic or can't eat it?  Replace the scapes with a cup of green beans treated in exactly the same manner.  They will cook up in a very similar manner and will be just as delicious. 

8 ounces mushrooms (I used fresh shiitake, but any mushrooms will do)

1 teaspoon olive oil

Salt

Pepper 

1/4 cup slivered almonds

1 cup garlic scapes (or 1 cup green beans)

2 teaspoons olive oil

Salt

Pepper

1 head lettuce of choice

1 very large, 2 large, or 3 small shallots, diced small

3 tablespoons white wine vinegar

3 tablespoons olive oil

Rinse mushrooms.  Toss with 1 teaspoon olive oil and salt and pepper to taste.  Spray a large piece of heavy duty tin foil with vegetable spray, then wrap the mushrooms securely in the heavy duty tin foil.  Grill for 15 minutes, flipping once, until soft and delicious.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan over medium heat, toast slivered almonds, stirring occasionally.  As long as the skillet is nonstick there is no need to grease the pan.  Watch closely, as the almonds will not appear to be toasting...and will not appear to be toasting...and then suddenly they will toast.  Toasting on the stovetop does take longer than toasting in the oven, however, this method is much less likely to produce burnt almonds than toasting in the oven.

Cut the garlic scapes into 1/2 inch lengths.  Once the almonds are toasted, heat 2 teaspoons olive oil in the small skillet over medium-high heat.  Add garlic scapes and salt and pepper to taste.  Cook garlic scapes until they have reached the desired level of doneness, anywhere from five to ten minutes.

Cover diced shallots with white wine vinegar.  Allow to sit for five minutes.  Whisk in 3 tablespoons olive oil.

Place clean lettuce in a bowl.  Layer on garlic scapes, grilled mushrooms, and toasted almonds.  Toss with shallot vinaigrette.  Enjoy!

Fluffy Butter Frosting

So...I still owe you a piece of the cake, don't I?  Arguably, the most important piece of the cake - the frosting.  I'm a frosting person.  I admit it.  I have licked every frosting beater, every frosting spoon, every frosting bowl that has ever come across my path to within an inch of its life - especially if the frosting on the beater, in the bowl, and on the spoon was this one.

Frosting can be incredibly sweet.  This one isn't.  Frosting can get hard and crusty and kind of funky.  This one doesn't.  Frosting can be an afterthought.  This one won't be.  Ever.  Under any circumstances.  I promise.

But before you make this frosting, you have promise to trust me.  Trust me that however odd it seems starting out (flour and milk cooked together?  That's funky...), and however strange it looks once you finally get out the mixer and the whip attachment and start going at it, that it will come together.  Even the strangest looking mess in my mixer has whipped up into soft, delicious, fluffy butter frosting.

So even though you start like this:

Trust me, you will eventually reach this:

 

And then you will question why you ever used any other icing or (dare I even think it) that stuff from a can.  

Also interesting to note - this is the original icing for the world-famous red velvet cake.  None of that cream cheese crud, which, in my opinion, is way to sour for the delicate red velvet cake so many people swath it in.  No, this is the real stuff, the way it was meant to be, and that is where this recipe came from - the original red velvet cake, which my mother has had for her birthday every single year for, well, I'm not saying, but it's been a while!  And which we have put on numerous birthday, every day, and (now) wedding cakes since.  This frosting goes with everything.  The only downfall?  It doesn't color well.  So decorate in a basic buttercream, but ice the whole cake with this.  You won't regret it, I promise.

Fluffy Butter Frosting

Origin lost in time, but know that it went with the original red velvet cake.

This recipe can be doubled, or even made one and half times, very easily.  It works up beautifully no matter what quantity you make.  I used a double recipe on the cake above.

5 tablespoons flour

1 cup milk

1 cup butter, softened

1 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

Combine flour and milk in a one quart saucepan over medium heat, stirring constantly.  Make sure that, as the milk heats up, you scrape any flour that may adhere to the spoon back into the mixture, otherwise you will end up with lumps.  Cook and stir until the mixture visibly thickens but is still pourable.  Cool completely in the refrigerator.

Place the softened butter and the sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment.  Whip butter and sugar together until light and fluffy.  Add vanilla.  Pour in flour milk mixture, and gradually increase the speed of the mixer until it is on high.  Every few minutes, stop the mixer and thoroughly scrape the bowl and beater to mix.  Trust that even though it looks like a mess, it will eventually come together.  Continue whipping on high and scraping the bowl until it has reached the desired spreading/fluffiness consistency, anywhere from seven to fifteen minutes, depending upon the exact thickness of your flour/milk mixture and the exact speed of your mixer.  Frost your cake (or eat off a spoon) and enjoy!

 

Strawberry Filling for Cake (No Leaks!)

I knew what I wanted from the strawberry filling I made for the wedding cake before I even started - fresh strawberry flavor, lightly sweetened, and not thin enough to leak.  That last part was very, very important to me.  How embarrassing would it be to make a lovely, delicious cake, only to have pink streaks through the icing because I wasn't careful about the consistency of the filling?

So I looked.  And I looked.  And my eyes started to bug out of my head.  Two cups of sugar per pound of berries?  Was I making strawberry filling or a sugar bomb?  If the point of using a specific icing (more on that later) was to avoid the sugar high most cakes would give, then why on earth would I add two cups of sugar to beautiful fresh berries?  I was making filling, not jam!  So...back to square one...

...And a filling I invented myself!  I knew, as I said, what I wanted - fresh berries, lightly sweetened, no leaking.  And so I took matters into my own hands, and what you see in the pictures is where I arrived.  To say that the filling really did taste of strawberries is an understatement.  I am not sure I have ever modified a strawberry (is that a thing?  Modifying strawberries?) and yet managed to keep them as true to the source as possible.  After all, though, when you have berries coming from your own backyard as lovely as these:

 

Why mess with a good thing?

Strawberry Filling for Cake (No Leaks!)

Proudly developed by me!

3 tablespoons cornstarch

1-2 teaspoons water

4 pounds strawberries, hulled and sliced

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 teaspoon butter

1 dash lemon juice 

Stir cornstarch and water together in a bowl.  It is perfectly fine to add slightly more water if necessary to suspend the cornstarch and make a pourable paste.  Place all ingredients except the cornstarch mixture in an eight quart stockpot.  Bring to a boil, stirring constantly.  Add the cornstarch mixture.  Bring back to a boil, stirring constantly, for one minute.  Remove from heat, pour into a separate bowl (it will splash; wear old clothing!), cool, and refrigerate.  Use to fill a cake.  Or pour over shortcakes.  Or eat with a spoon.  I won't tell anyone if you do!  (I might have done so once or twice myself...)

Marbled Buttermilk Cake

Psst...guys...  I made a wedding cake.

Oh, er, and long time no see!

I realize it's been on the order of, let's see, three years since I last posted anything but, well...life kind of got in the way.  I went back to school (and graduated in May) - that was a large part of it -, the Resident Taste Tester went back to school (and graduates in August), I was hospitalized twice, and I have received two diagnoses in three years, both of which have given me answers, but have also led to pretty major physical adjustments, one of which I am going through now.  And that doesn't count all of the other life that has simply intervened.

But here we are!  Three years later and I have made a wedding cake.  Clearly I have not stopped baking and cooking, but this, this is an accomplishment even I did not know if I could pull off, and I am very lucky and blessed to have a friend who trusted me enough to try.  I decided that if I did pull it off I would post it, and if I didn't, well, then I probably had no business ever posting anything else ever again.  I had made promises, and I had to deliver.  So I read and I read and I gathered my recipes, and then I tossed out the recipes again and I tried something different and finally, well, I fudged it.  And I fudge it pretty darned well, if I do say so myself.

The proof that I did this, no fancy tools required:

 

 

Each of the previous pictures was taken prior to the day of - baking the cakes, leveling, crumb coating, putting on a thick coat of icing and then finally, finally smoooooothing the icing to the very best of my ability.  I have never gotten a coat of icing that smooth.  Then came transport, and let me tell you guys, that was the longest hour of my life.  One slide, one slip, and boom - several hours of icing perfection gone.  Especially since I did not use a typical buttercream, one that crusts on exposure to air, oh no, I refused to sacrifice flavor, no way!  So I used a nice, soft, fluffy buttercream. I was asking for it.  But it made it!  And then this ensued:

 

 

 

 

 Tada!  The results!  Plus a shot of all the other goodies and tools I used to get the beast...er, I mean cake...to the venue and picture perfect for the reception.  And the Resident Taste Tester's nursing book.  But anyway...  For those of you who might ask, those are flourless chocolate peanut butter cookies, white and dark hearted brownies, buckeye brownies, seven layer bars, and cut out cookies, all made by moi.  I have to give a shout out here though - as much as I put all the components together, I iced and baked and rolled, the Resident Taste Tester is the one that made it possible.  He did every dish - no dishwasher, you see - without complaint, took out the trash, and helped in all the myriad ways a good sous chef will help.  Or a good Resident Taste Tester, because sous chef doesn't really cut it.

So there you have it.  One wedding cake.  Marbled buttermilk with strawberry filling (more to come on that) and fluffy buttercream frosting.  Everything I wanted it to be, for sure.

Marbled Buttermilk Cake

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen

 This makes enough for one two layer nine inch cake (do NOT use eight inch pans - it will overflow).  I made one two layer nine inch cake and then used a second batch for four six inch layers.  Two six inch layers served as a test cake, and the other is the top layer seen here.

4 cups cake flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup boiling water

1/2 cup cocoa

2 sticks butter, softened

2 cups sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla extract 

4 eggs 

2 cups buttermilk

Prepare two nine inch baking pans by buttering them, then covering the bottoms with parchment paper rounds and flouring the sides.

Combine the first four ingredients in a medium bowl and set aside.  Whisk together the boiling water and cocoa in a small saucepan and set aside.

Cream the butter and the sugar together until fluffy and yellow throughout.  Add the vanilla.  Add the eggs one at a time, scraping as necessary.  Add the buttermilk.  Scrape down, then gradually add the dry ingredients until combined.  If necessary, remove bowl from mixer and finish combining by hand with a spatula in order to avoid overbeating.

Remove about a third of the batter to a small bowl.  Mix the cocoa/water combination into the smaller amount of batter.  Divide the remaining yellow batter into the prepared pans, then dollop the chocolate batter on top.  It may seem like the chocolate batter completely covers the yellow batter.  That's OK.  Take a toothpick, and swirl it through the two batters, even if it does not appear to be making any swirls. Swirl away!

Bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes or until a toothpick stuck in the middle of the tiers comes out clean.  Allow to cool ten minutes (very important!) then remove from pans and place on racks to cool completely.  Ice with your favorite icing and enjoy!