Squash: so much more than a weird sport

Tis the season for members of the Marrow family to start showing up in the grocery stores.  Acorn, spaghetti, butternut, Turk's Turban, pumpkin, and gourds out the wazoo.  I often find myself stocking up on various squash with the best of intentions, but more often than not they become ornamentals.  Condemned to become the centerpiece of a rotting, impromptu cornucopia amongst appliances and unopened mail on the counter.

This year will be different, I swear.

I solemnly vow to buy squash as needed only.  I shall purchase with purposeful intent, and a recipe in mind.  I shall not say “Oooo, that’s pretty!” and bring a miscellaneous weird gourd home and permit it to decompose on a random surface in the kitchen.

In this moment I grow.

I recently picked up the book ‘Moro East’ by Sam and Sam Clark.  I’ve ogled their books often in the past.  Their recipes celebrate Mediterranean foods, with particular focus on the Moorish influences. 

‘Moro East’ also reads as something of a requiem.  The Clarks were part of a gardening community on one of the garden allotments in London’s East End.  Sadly, despite the fact that the land had been bequeathed to East End families “in perpetuity” back in 1900, they were bulldozed in 2007 to become part of the lands used for the 2012 Olympics.

So much for perpetuity.

You can read more about the loss of these properties, as well as the displacement of an entire community here.

Within the pages of ‘Moro East’ there’re recipes based on ingredients harvested from the garden allotments, the people of varied ethnic backgrounds who contributed to the community, as well as people the Clarks have met on their travels.

This past week I zeroed in on two recipes in particular.  Pumpkin Pisto, and Roast Chicken with Sumac.  I’ll focus on the Pisto, though, as it was by FAR the scene-stealer!

As per usual, I made several significant alterations and additions to the recipe.  Since this was to be the only accompanying dish to the chicken, I wanted there to be more veggie variety, so I added carrots, yam, tomatoes and eggplant.  Here’s the recipe as I made it, with a strong nod to the original in ‘Moro East’.

 Harvest Veggie Pisto

·      About 6 tbsp Olive oil, more as needed

·      1 onion, diced

·      1 red pepper, seeded and diced

·      2 cloves garlic, sliced thin

·      1 acorn squash, peeled, seeded and cut into chunks

·      1 large carrot, peeled and cut into large chunks

·      1 yam or sweet potato, peeled and cut into chunks

·      1 eggplant, peeled and cut into chunks*

·      1 -1 ½ tsp finely chopped fresh rosemary

·      1 or 2 bayleaves

·      1 tbsp oregano (preferably fresh, but I used dried)

·      About 1 ½ cups tomatoes, diced

·      ½ -1 tsp ground cumin

·      A few grates nutmeg (teeny pinch)

·      Handful (total) chopped cilantro and parsley

·      1 tbsp balsamic vinegar

·      Salt & pepper

In a large saucepan (I used the base of my Ikea tagine) over medium heat, sauté the onion with a pinch of salt in olive oil for about 15-20 minutes.  Stir and cook until beginning to caramelize. 

Add the red pepper, and continue to cook for another 10 minutes or so. 

Add carrot, yam or sweet potato, garlic, bay leaves, and rosemary, cooking and stirring for a few minutes until all ingredients are evenly mixed.

Next, add the squash, reduce the heat and cover.  Allow to simmer about 10 minutes, before adding the tomatoes, eggplant, oregano, cumin and nutmeg.  Mix well, cover and allow to cook a further 10 minutes until the veggies have softened.

Toss the cilantro and parsley over the vegetables, sprinkle the balsamic vinegar over and stir gently until evenly dispersed throughout.

Adjust seasoning as desired, and serve.

*Often eggplant can be somewhat bitter, and it’s recommended to sprinkle cut eggplant with salt and allow the bitter juices to be drawn out.  I didn’t find that was necessary with this recipe, as the sweetness from the other ingredients defeated any bitterness which may have tried to rear its head.

Getting Over "Under-the-Weather"

Wow, I ought to consider turning pro at posting about not posting.

This past week had its challenges.  Our cat (the part-Siamese who sometimes shows up in the background of my photos) became seriously ill, and my world came to a screeching halt.  Making meals fell by the wayside, which was just as well because I had no appetite.

Umpteen taxi trips to the vet later, and she's back at home, wide awake, demanding of both food and attention, and generally back to the Divine Incarnation of Feline Loveliness which we know and adore.

Some would say "It's just a cat", but I don't buy that at all.  All of the beasts who take up residence with me do become family.  It's like with anything, really: if you say "It's just..." then obviously it's meaningless to you, and you're better off without it.

I tend to take the same approach with food.  I know I've mentioned before how insane I may be about sourcing out the best ingredients I can find, but it's because I DO care.  About myself, my husband, and repercussions to the world around me based on my own choices.

In the midst of my cat's convalescence, my friend Manuela sent me a link to this article about accommodating both sides of this "argument" when it comes to food.  The brilliant minds of New York-based food clique Studiofeast conjured up a dining experience which observes both sides of this "duality".  The vegetarian diner gets their meal representing their own dietary belief system, and the carnivore gets their carnage, yet the meals look the same.

If only all the worlds problems could be solved with such an act of compromise...

Leftover Hangover

So, I've been a bit of a slug lately as far as the kitchen activity goes.  My motivations have skipped between the painfully lazy to the barely edible.  I won't pretend I've made anything of consequence, or try and sell you on some experimental recipe that is better left to line a litter box.

However, when last we chatted, I was in the middle of trying to reconcile my attitude towards birthdays.  My own, specifically.

This year I took matters into my own hands and put the invite out to a few friends to come over, eat, drink, be merry, etc.  I foolishly said "It's caaaaasuaaaaaalll.  Great if you can make it, no woooorrriiiiies if you can't..."

I now know those words are stupidity incarnate.  Not because I blame any friends who weren't able to join (they were only following instructions, after all), but because I'm a complete over-preparing psychopath, who, without any set numbers, prepared enough food as if EVERYONE were attending.

Wrong.

Yes, I ended up with a Pharaoh's tomb worth of leftover food in the aftermath.  What does one do when one has buckets of chorizo and enough cheese to constipate a polar bear?  Mac and cheese, of course.

Once again, I direct you to Fine Cooking for their classic/basic recipe.  There's so much room for add-ins and substitutions that it's the ideal way to clean out your fridge when one finds oneself with a small Parisian marketplace worth of cheese and meat on hand. 

Oh, and the breadcrumb crust?  Not optional.  So good!