Squash for Breakfast

It's squash month for the vegetable of the month club! Each of us decided to experiment with a different squash this month. My pick: butternut.

It's November, i.e. snowy winter in Colorado (although today of course it will be 55 and sunny - this is why I love this state). Our greenhouse has been officially "turned off" for the season (sigh...). Before we let the frost take over, however, we harvested 3 lovely butternut squash from the indoor jungle. Result: squash-spice muffins and 2 batches of butternut squash soup!

Squash-Spice Muffins

(I was going to add "healthy" to the name but then you might not try them - but seriously, they are very healthy :))

1 1/2 cups flour (plus 1 T extra for high altitude)

1 1/2 tsp cinnamon

1 1/2 tsp ground ginger

1/4 tsp nutmeg

1/4 tsp ground cloves

1 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 cup dark brown sugar

1 cup butternut squash puree (see below)

3 Tbsp canola oil

1/3 cup plain yogurt (1/2 cup for high altitude - you can use fat-free if you like)

3 Tbsp molasses

1 large egg

For puree: Halve an unpeeled squash lengthwise and scoop out the seeds & membrane. Place the halved squash cut-side down in a baking pan filled three-quarters full with water. Roast at 400 degrees F until squash is completely fork-tender. Let cool, scoop out flesh and mash it with a potato masher or puree with an electric mixer. Freezes well!

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Coat 12 muffin holes with cooking spray or use cupcake liners. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, baking soda and salt. In another bowl, combine sugar, squash puree, oil, yogurt, molasses and egg. With an electric mixer on medium speed, mix for 1 to 2 minutes (or mix by hand). Make a well in center of dry ingredients; pour in liquid mixture and gently fold to just combine (batter will be lumpy).

Evenly pour batter into muffin pan about two-thirds full. Bake until a toothpick inserted in center of a muffin comes out clean, about 20 to 25 minutes. Makes 12 muffins.

Butternut squash soup recipe coming soon...

When your tomatoes are not red--

We are at the tail end of tomato season, which means that you are most likely harvesting green tomatoes. I've had my run-in with a frying pan and a green tomato this year. Last week I despaired of not having the time to recreate the recipe (simple yet time-intensive) and opted for a green tomato salsa. It's an easy and quick recipe that will use up your green tomatoes, as well as any extra hot peppers and cilantro. A basic salsa recipe includes:

1. Tomatoes
2. Garlic
3. Onions, minced
4. Lime Juice
5. Salt (Kosher or Sea Salt)
6. Hot Peppers/Bell Peppers
7. Olive oil
8. Cilantro (optional)

You could add other items, of course (black beans, corn.) Personally, I like to use what I have available, for the economy of the thing. I don't have a good picture to share. I think we all know what salsa looks like.

I really enjoyed the green tomatoes, and I also had a good experience with a yellow tomato,which I attempted to paint, and then eventually ate in slices. I posted the painting on my fridge. See above photo. I also painted a hot pepper, just for the fun of it.The tomato was sweet and subtle, not quite as tart as a red variety. The pepper was so spicy that it burned my hands!



Should you be interested in the health benefits of yellow and green vs. red tomatoes. A quick search reveals a helpful Q & A from the New York Times, written by C. Claiborn Ray. A little dated (2000), but still informative:

Q. I see yellow tomatoes, among other exotic types, at vegetable stores. Do they differ in nutritional value from red tomatoes?

A. Like all vegetables, tomatoes differ somewhat in nutritional value from variety to variety, and even from season to season. For example, the United States Department of Agriculture lists different average nutrient contents for tomatoes harvested from November to May and for those from June to October.

Many food values are comparable for red and yellow tomatoes, or are a tradeoff. For example, the amino acids are found in similar smidgens. The precursor of vitamin A called beta carotene is found in valuable amounts in red and yellow tomatoes and in many other vegetables.

Both colors have vitamin C, though a red tomato has about three times as much. Minerals are similar, though a yellow tomato is higher in sodium. Yellow tomatoes have more niacin and folate; red tomatoes have more vitamin B6 and pantothenic acid, and so on.

But there is one significant nutrient, reported in some studies to be a powerful antioxidant that may help prevent cancer, that is found in red tomatoes but not in others: lycopene. Lycopene, which is also converted in the body to vitamin A, is the very thing that makes red tomatoes red. The redder the tomato, the more lycopene, and no lycopene at all is to be found in green or yellow tomatoes.

Vegetables Unite

So many vegetables, so little time. We've all seemingly taken a break from blogging. Occasionally we need to focus on our day jobs, attend our inlaws' weddings, vacation, move across the country, purchase our first home, or just unplug our computers and enjoy the summer in general. Anyway, I thought to give an update on the progress of The Vegetable of the Month Club contributors, on and off-line.

The big news is that all six of us VOTM clubbers convened in Evergreen, Colorado this week for the Vegetable of the Month Club Annual Summit (aka The Liberal End 2010 Reunion.) Almost every meal included some form of produce harvested from our hosts' (the Rogers) greenhouse. Our collaborative efforts produced pizzas (one includes the ubiquitous swiss chard), salads, breakfast burritos, a zucchini-shrimp-goat cheese risotto, and fried green tomatoes. We didn't get to the stuffed zucchini blossoms, I'm afraid. We went hiking instead.

Thanks to Katy and Ryan for their well-tended green-house and gracious hosting, Kate and Emily for some careful and creative menu-planning, Annie for the exuberant harvesting, and Elizabeth for the photos and support. And thanks to me for eating my fair share and taking a fried green tomato grease burn for the team. Totally worth it and healing nicely.

On a personal note, I have to say that the over-abundance of produce in my refrigerator (due to my rather large CSA share) has lead me to explore new recipes, but it has also been a little stressful. July was one of the busiest months yet at work. I've also been rethinking my living situation, not least of all due to the small and out-dated kitchen in my current apartment. I just have too many vegetables, and I hate to waste them.

I also feel that I do not have the time necessary to cook well and often. As an aside, I think that the solution to my predicament might be some good, old-fashioned canning, which would allow me to savor the bounty while indulging my great love of pickles and mountain-bred hoarding tendencies. If anyone with similar interests (or perhaps greater skill levels) would like to join me, I welcome your good company and expertise.

Nevertheless, I've managed to enjoy my vegetables. I have: labored over a cabbage and beet salad with honey and orange vinaigrette; casually thrown together farm fresh cucumbers and onions; and become acquainted with garlic scapes. Add kale chips and a basil cheesecake to the list.

Oh, and here's an easy, every-day dish: wilted greens (chard, beet greens, etc) in garlic, crushed red pepper, onions and tamari on a bed of quinoa, topped with roasted peanuts. This dish is my go-to, post-swim dinner. It's partially inspired by my new cookbook, "The Real Dirt on Vegetables," and very loosely inspired by the Miso Marinated Tofu at the newly opened Ruxbin Kitchen. I don't think I need to add to the rave reviews of this restaurant, which was featured in the Chicago Reader just this week, but will again thank Nate for the introduction.

I do believe that we will be sharing some of our creations from The Liberal End 2010 Reunion (aka The Vegetable of the Month Club Annual Summit) soon.

Hold tight, people.

Swisschardzel

It makes sense that food features strongly in many stories, little else is so important to human survival. Yet no vegetable was so confounding to me as a child as that in the opening to the story Rapunzel. How could someone long for a bunch of leaves so desperately they'd end up trading their baby to an enchantress?

Then one day I was pregnant, and to my surprise craving leafy greens. Particularly Swiss Chard. (I've never tasted Rampion a.k.a. ramps - the fateful vegetable Mama Rapunzel pined for, and from which The Witch derived the child's name before locking her in a tower for life. Can anyone vouch for their crave-worthiness?) While acknowledging that I finally relate to her longing for leaves, I'd like to state that the comparison ends there. For the record: I did not cause my husband to trespass, steal vegetables from a sorceress' garden, or face the choice of choosing between his own life and that of our unborn baby so that I could eat some greens. And as pretty as Swiss Chard is, I opted not to name our baby after it.


I did, however, ask Jake to partake in many meals involving Swiss Chard. More than just hunger, for me greens satisfy almost soul-deep. And as such, I tend to like them done simply. One of my favorites is to boil the chopped chard in salted water with plenty of lemon juice. A great side dish, but if left up to me I'd consider it dinner. (Full elaboration on the recipe can be found in Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, a cookbook I highly recommend.)

Even though I do SO love Swiss Chard, I still have not found time to finish my watercolor. (Anyone else noticing a theme here - A Defense of Things NOT Done...? hmn...) Brava Laura for posting your unfinished work! I am not brave enough to do so.

But may I present to you a photograph of the lovely, the brilliant and earthy... Ruby Red Chard!

This bunch is growing under the tender care of Aunt Sue's green thumb. And no matter how badly your pregnant wife pines for it, don't steal from her garden - she'll gladly share.

Chard. Work. In progress.

Today I received a new cook book in the mail. I didn't even order it! As a new CSA shareholder, I have been gifted a seasonal recipe collection. Thank you, Farmer John. And thank you, generous employer! I hope that you meant to send me this book, because I don't think I'll give it back. Beyond having inventive recipes for all sorts of early season greens, I now possess a bound paper repository of veritable, vegetable facts.

My new cookbook taught me that one should only heat Goosefoot greens in stainless steel, as they will discolor in aluminum or iron. Also, you should really cut out the stems of larger leaves, slice them in 1/4" thick, and begin cooking before you add the greens, which, incidentally, you should slice to 1" wide on the diagonal. I am now more aware of spices that work well with Chard: marjoram, parsley, lovage, nutmeg, allspice, or paprika. I can only vouch for nutmeg and parsley, having a general dirth of lovage in my household. Ahem.

I must reiterate the connection between beets and chard. They are two varieties of Beta Vulgaris, and members of the Goosefoot family, who did not, to my knowledge, appear in any sitcoms in the nineteen eighties. Actually, Beets and Swiss Chard are so similar that we could not tell a beet that had been allowed to flower from chard in a brief walk around the AOLC garden today. Other Goosefoots: Spinach (no surprise there), Tetragonia, and Quinoa. Well, who doesn't have a very distant South American staple cousin?

Also, I made a little painting. It isn't quite done, so maybe I should have kept it to myself. But I'm having a good time, so why shouldn't you? Along with chard, this piece shows off the shoelaces from my old (and favorite) sneakers: the turquoise converse size 5 purchased at a Greek town thrift-store at the near beginning of my endless summer of post-college life. As you can see, they have been lovingly knotted, broken, and re-knotted. Another funny detail: I found it the wooden base at my former employer's warehouse sale, before I ever worked for them, or even thought I would. Walk circumspectly, as some say. What a long, strange trip it's been.

I will supposedly be receiving baby chard in my box tomorrow. Will we ever make it to the next vegetable, I wonder?

Rainbow Swiss Chard. Wow.

Rainbow Swiss chard is the free-loving, peace-making Alpine hitch-hiker of leafy greens. It's also loaded with acid. Oxalic Acid. And like a well-worn tie-dyed t-shirt, Rainbow Swiss Chard has traveled across cultures, mixing with everything and nothing along the way. The French cook chard with leeks and and cream in tarts, while more Mediterranean cooks add feta, raisins, and pine nuts. Not as tough as Kale (and certainly no match for the hard-scrabble Cabbage), anyone can see that Swiss Chard is related to the more mainstream beet. Yeah man, the beet. Remember the beet? The descriptor "Swiss" makes certain that we will never confuse this leaf with the more delicate and refined French Spinach.



I made an appetizer, and I took it to a gathering, but I spilled it on the way. And I was really late. And then I sprained my ankle in a freak hugging accident. It was a spontaneous, Rainbow Swiss Chard kind-of night, I guess. But the Chard did well. I have to confess that I felt like I was using it; I'm almost positive that you could substitute beet greens, but that would feel too utilitarian. And I'm sure beet greens wouldn't have approved of my behavior. I mean, why would you date a banker when you could date a hitch-hiker? Yeah, I know it would be nice to have a root to roast later, the total package, etc. Did you know that beet juice has even been used to de-ice streets in the Rust Belt? And would you really want to eat Rainbow Swiss Chard every day for the rest of your life? I happen to know someone who affirms that she could be happy if she ate beets with such constancy.

Ah, well. Live and let live. Here is the recipe. I credit epicurious.

Garlic Toasts with Swiss Chard, Raisins, and Pine Nuts

2 tablespoons raisins (I used dried currants)

5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 garlic clove, crushed to paste, plus 1 garlic clove, minced
20 1/2-inch-thick baguette rounds (from 1 baguette; why not keep some of the hippie vibe and use multi-grain?)

1 14- to 16-ounce bunch Swiss chard, thick stems trimmed
1/4 cup finely chopped onion (use a sweet onion, if you can)
2 tablespoons chopped seeded tomato
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons pine nuts
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

Place raisins (or currants) in small bowl. Pour enough warm water over to cover; let stand 20 minutes. Drain.

Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine 3 tablespoons oil and crushed garlic in another small bowl. Arrange baguette rounds on baking sheet. Bake until bread is crisp but not brown, turning bread once, about 5 minutes per side. Cool. Brush bread with garlic oil.

Cook Swiss chard in large pot of boiling salted water until tender, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. (I would shorten this; I think my chard was a little too tender, maybe even mushy.) Drain well. Pat with paper towels to remove excess water. Finely chop chard. Heat remaining 2 tablespoons oil in heavy medium skillet over medium heat. Add onion and minced garlic and sauté until onion is tender, about 3 minutes. Add tomato and parsley and stir 1 minute. Increase heat to high; add pine nuts, nutmeg, raisins, and chard and stir 2 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Top toasts with Swiss chard mixture. Serve warm or at room temperature, whatever man.

I was pretty pleased with this recipe, which can party in any season. Just add good beer, someone else's house, and an open mind.