Fish selyanka

Here is another Russian cold-weather favorite, fish selyanka. Russia's beloved sturgeon and pickled vegetables come together in a tangy, rich, comforting soup, layered with subtle flavors.

The variations are as many as there are cooks. One version uses rinsed, chopped sauerkraut in addition to pickles, olives, and capers. In another version crayfish or shrimp shells are added to the stock, and cooked crayfish or shrimp tails are used to garnish the finished dish.

The rich fish stock for this soup can be made with any non-oily mild tasting inexpensive white fish, or with sturgeon heads and trimmings. Fatty fishes would add extra heaviness and too strong flavors to the stock, and should be avoided.

Fish that work well:
Perch
Ruffe
Striped bass
Snapper
Sturgeon heads

Fish that don't work:
Salmon
Tuna
Sea bass
Mackerel
Sardines

If using small fish, ask the fishmonger to scale and gut it, but leave the heads and tails on - they contribute to the stock. After making the stock the fish is usually discarded. I was making mine with white perch, and the little sweet fishes from the stock actually made a very good snack; just have to be careful about the bones - they are numerous and tiny.

Fish stock is different from meat and chicken stocks because it cooks very fast. If you put the aromatic vegetables in it whole, they will just begin cooking by the time the fish is completely spent. So, to get the most out of the vegetables, we'll chop them into large chunks.



Fish selyanka
Serves 4

For the stock:

1-1/2 lb small fish or fish heads and trimmings
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
2 celery sticks, chopped
1 whole parsley, with root, or 1 chopped parsnip and 1 small bunch of parsley leaves
1 cup white wine
Water to cover
1 bay leaf
10 black peppercorns


Place fish, onion, carrots, celery, parsley and parsnip into a pot. They should fit relatively tight. Pour in white wine and water to cover. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to achieve slow even simmer. Skim the stock, add bay leaf and black peppercorns. Simmer, uncovered, for 30 minutes. Remove from heat, strain stock through a fine strainer into a clean pot. Discard the vegetables and fish (or, if the fish looks good, sprinkle it with sea salt and enjoy).



For the selyanka:

1 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp butter
1 yellow onion, diced
2 Tbsp tomato paste
1 lb sturgeon, cut into four portions, skin and cartilage removed
20 olives, pitted and sliced
3 large kosher pickles, sliced
2 Tbsp capers, rinsed
1/2 cup marinated mushrooms (optional)
Salt, pepper
Lemon slices, chopped parsley (for serving)


Heat oil and butter in a sauté pan over medium heat. Sauté onions, stirring, until soft and beginning to turn color, 5-7 minutes. Add tomato paste, sauté 5 minutes more. Add 1 cup fish stock, stir well.

Bring 3 cups of stock to a boil. Add sturgeon, return to boil, reduce heat, simmer until sturgeon is cooked through, about 5 minutes. Add onion-tomato mixture, olives, pickles, capers, mushrooms (if using). Heat through. Adjust seasoning. Depending on your ingredients, you may or may not need to add salt. Serve garnished with lemon slices and chopped parsley.



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Location:San Rafael, CA

More pelmeni

I am still dealing with 200 pelmeni from one of my December posts. Well, I guess they are down to under 100 now.

Cooking pelmeni in a clear broth and serving them with it makes a fast and warming one-pot meal (Hello, ravioli in brodo, meet wonton soup!)

Any tasty homemade stock will work. I used my fresh made chicken stock, but beef stock would be even better, and vegetable broth or, in a pinch, salted water, are good. I never use store bought stocks for clear soups. They may be OK in sauces or pureed vegetable soups, but in a clear soup you taste the broth straight, and the packaged stocks never taste right. Also, in a clear soup the broth should be clear and beautiful, I haven't found packaged stuff that's perfectly clear. Please, don't do this shortcut. Use water.

So, bring your homemade stock or lightly salted water with a bay leave in it to a boil, drop frozen pelmeni in, bring back to boil, reduce the heat, simmer until pelmeni float, then two more minutes. Ladle the soup into deep bowls, garnish with herbs of your choice - parsley, dill, green onions are mine - and tons of freshly ground black pepper. Enjoy in front of a fireplace, with a shot of ice-cold vodka.




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Location:San Rafael, CA

Russian food. Assorted meat selyanka

I guess it's the season: I've been cooking a lot of Russian food recently. From Russian Californians with a food nostalgia to families who never tried Russian food and want something different for their special occasion dinner, everyone is requesting traditional Russian dishes. I've even been working with a fine restaurant that decided to offer zakuski spread as a part of their appetizer menu.

There is very little information available on traditional Russian cuisine. A friend (of Russian background!) asked me a few days ago: "What do you mean by Russian cuisine? Isn't it all just French food made with available local ingredients?" The answer is "No". The French cuisine became a huge influence in Russian cooking in the 19th century, when French chefs immigrated to Russia to escape the revolution, and were hired by aristocratic families and fancy restaurants; but there are distinctive tastes and cooking techniques that make Russian cuisine stand on it's own, and reflect the character of the people and the land, even after absorbing multiple influences from the neighbor countries. I am going to put together a series of posts about russian cuisine, with recipes, techniques, and serving ideas, for easy reference. I hope I can paint a complete picture.

Contrary to what most restaurant menus would make you think, Russian cuisine is much more than borscht, beef Stroganoff, blini with caviar, and cold vodka.

The short growing season and long winter in most regions forced the cooks to make creative use of vegetables with long storage potential (cabbages, potatoes, turnips, beets, onions) and grains (wheat, rye, buckwheat, rice, barley, to name a few), to develop an assortment of pickled, marinated, and fermented vegetable recipes and smoked and dried meats for storage. During the short spring and summer growing season, fresh young vegetables and herbs are praised and presented in salads, cold and hot soups, or prepared simply to accompany the main course.

Wild mushroom hunting is a favorite national pastime and a competitive sport, and boiled, sautéed, pickled, marinated, dried mushrooms add their charm to many dishes. In modern times, when wild mushrooms are unavailable, cultivated varieties take their place in recipes, but they are never as good as the real thing!

Fish, both salt- and freshwater, was always popular. Two specifically Russian ways to prepare fish are whole de-boned fish or slices of fillet baked in pastry, and cooked fish, covered with jelly, served cold as an appetizer. There is a number of fish soups and salads, using both fresh and smoked fish. Pickled herring, a Scandinavian influence, is enormously popular, as it goes so well with vodka.

The most used meats are beef and pork, both served hot, or cold as an appetizer. Organ meats, such as tongues, harts, livers and kidneys, are cooked in soups, pates, baked in pastry, or made into sausages. Lamb and mutton are a recent fashion brought from the South. As part of Georgian, Armenian, Azerbaijani, Uzbek dishes they are very popular now.

Poultry and game - chickens, duck, goose, rabbit, pheasant, quail, grouse - are reserved for festive holiday roasts and stews. They are presented nicely, and grace the holiday table. Organ meats are also used. Chicken liver mousse is everyone's favorite.

What really sets Russian cuisine apart from the rest of the world is it's extensive use of yeast dough to make all kinds of bread, filled bread, pastries, pies, rolls, etc, baked, fried, boiled. Vatrushki (cheese pies) for breakfast. Small piroshki with meat and vegetable fillings as a part of the appetizer spread. The soup is usually accompanied with piroshki with a filling that compliments the soup. A meat or a fish pie can be a main entree at a family gathering, or one of the dishes served at a formal dinner. To finish, hot tea with sweet pastries and fruit preserves.

Assorted meat selyanka

There is no recipe for this soup. It can be made with anything.

In the old times, selyanka (means "village girl") was a soup made with a hearty beef stock, the meat used to make the stock, and any pickled vegetables on hand. 19th century restauranteurs dresses the girl up with tomatoes, olives, capers, and fancy smoked meats, and they called it "assorted meat selyanka". Still, she didn't lose her rustic character. Anything goes. If you serve a cold meat plate at a dinner party, make a selyanka the next day. It will show the meat leftover to their best advantage, and it will cure the hangover, if any.

After you invested time and effort into making beef stock, this soup comes together in minutes. At home, I usually make a lot of beef stock once in a while in my 8-quart stock pot, then freeze whatever I don't use immediately in 1-quart ziplock bags for soups, and in ice cube trays for sauces. This way, I have my "bouillon cubes" at all times.

Serves 6

2 Tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, thinly sliced
1 cup roasted tomato sauce (substitute tomato paste)
2 quarts beef stock
3 medium kosher pickles, cut into small cubes
1 pound assorted smoked or cooked meats and sausages (smoked pork shoulder, smoked ham, dry salami, summer sausage, frankfurters, boiled beef tongue, cooked kidney, Canadian bacon, smoked chicken, smoked duck), the more the merrier. If making stock from scratch, include the boiled beef from stock. Cut into small cubes.
2 Tbsp capers, rinsed
1 cup olives, rinsed
1 lemon, cut into thin slices, to garnish
Flat parsley leaves, to garnish
6 Tbsp sour cream, to serve

Heat oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add onions, sauté until golden, 10 minutes. Add tomato sauce or tomato paste, sauté 10 minutes more.

Add stock and pickles, bring to a boil, reduce heat to low. Add meats. Heat through. Add capers and olives.

Pour soup into hot soup bowls or small crocks, add capers and olives. Garnish with lemon slices and parsley. Serve hot. Pass sour cream at the table.


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Location:San Rafael, CA

Gazpacho, because it's summer

This simple cold soup is the symbol of summer. Its taste depends entirely on the quality of the vegetables. Only at the peak of the summer you can get the super-ripe, sweet, aromatic tomatoes, delicate Persian cucumbers that do not require peeling or seeding - the entire cucumber is delicious, - and juicy, tasty bell peppers.

When I don't have all the ingredients in my garden, I go to the favorite growers at the farmers market, and try to get a taste before I buy. If each vegetable tastes perfect, they will blend into a delicious refreshing bowl of soup.



Gazpacho
Serves 4

1 large or 2 small bell peppers, seeded
2 medium ripe tomatoes
3 Persian cucumbers, unpeeled
1 Maui onion
3-4 clove garlic
2 cups tomato juice
1/2 cup olive oil
Salt, pepper, sherry vinegar - to taste
Basil, parsley, or other herbs, to garnish

Chop all vegetables. Combine with tomato juice. Puree in blender, working in batches; I like to leave some chunks for more interesting texture. Season with olive oil, sherry vinegar, salt and pepper. Refrigerate 2-3 hours. Garnish with herbs and serve.



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Winter mushroom soup

 It was raining for two days straight. This is when this soup was born. It's dark, heavy body, earthy mushroom and vegetable fragrance, a fire in the fireplace, and a glass of wine - all you need to accept the long cold nights and days that look like early mornings. Now it's nice and sunny again in our unpredictable "sunny California", but I know there will be more rainy days, so here it is.

It looks like a cream soup, but the cream (creme fraiche) is actually just used for serving. The creamy body of the soup comes from root vegetables that are cooked with mushrooms in homemade chicken stock and then pureed. For a vegetarian version, replace chicken stock with vegetable broth.

 The magic of this soup comes from a handful of dried porcini mushrooms. Their smell is comforting and totally irresistible, and is supported by a flavor base of winter vegetables. Make sure to add the liquid that you used to soak the mushrooms - a large part of the mushroom essence is in it.

This recipe makes four large servings of very thick soup, as is appropriate for the season. Or use more stock for a thinner version and serve it in espresso cups as an appetizer for a party.

Mushroom Soup
Serves 4

1 oz dried porcini mushrooms
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp unsalted butter
2 leeks, sliced
2 carrots, chopped
1 parsley root, chopped
1 shallot, sliced
3 cloves garlic, sliced
8 oz white mushrooms, chopped
1/2 cup dry sherry
1 qt chicken stock
2 medium potatoes, diced
2 sprigs thyme
2 bay leaves
4 juniper berries, lightly crushed
salt, freshly ground pepper

To serve, optional: creme fraiche, minced parsley, fried shallot.

Cover dried mushrooms with hot water and soak until soft, 15-30 minutes, depending on the quality of the mushrooms. Remove mushrooms, squeeze dry, and chop, reserving the liquid. Strain liquid through a fine mesh strainer.
Meanwhile, heat olive oil and butter in a large saute pan. Add leeks, carrots, parsley root, shallot and garlic. Sweat over medium-low heat until soft but not browning, 10-15 minutes. Add porcini and white mushrooms, cook another 10 minutes. Add mushroom soaking liquid, sherry, chicken stock, thyme, bay leaves, juniper berries, and potatoes. Season with salt and pepper. Simmer gently over low heat for 20 minutes, until the potatoes are cooked.
Remove and discard thyme, bay, and juniper berries. Puree soup in blender to desired texture. I like to leave the soup a little chunky. When pureeing hot soup, work in batches, and hold the lid down firmly with a towel, to make sure that the steam doesn't force the lid off and the hot liquid all over the kitchen and the cook (been there, done this). Pour into a pan and re-heat gently.

Serve in soup bowls, garnished with creme fraiche, parsley, and/or fried shallot.

This soup, served with a large slice of bread, can make a dinner on it's own. Or, here is a comforting second course to match:

Place pork medallions (thick slices of pork tenderloin), crushed bay leaves, sage, thyme sprigs, sliced garlic, salt, pepper, and a little olive oil in a plastic bag. Vacuum seal (I vacuum seal everything these days) or close the bag tightly. Refrigerate overnight. Remove medallions, rub off marinade, and dry with paper towels. Saute in a little olive oil over medium-high heat to medium-well (barely pink in the middle).

Here, served with sauteed Brussels sprouts and baby cauliflower, with my apple butter, and my killer tarragon mustard. The apple butter tames the heat of the mustard a bit, so it doesn't make me cry all the way through the dinner. And I have plenty of this apple butter to last me and everyone around me through the winter.

Recipe cross-posted to my personal chef blog.

Poor fishermens' stew

Bouillabaisse, the Marseilles fishermens stew, is my old friend Y.'s pride, joy, and a holiday special. It's is a lot of work, but the result is a perfectly balanced, fragrant, and totally delicious festive dish. Y. kindly allowed me to help with the prep, and to document the process.

Y. says he tried dozens of recipes (Y. is the type who is most comfortable following a written recipe), and this one is the winner. Y. has modified it only slightly. Since the recipe doesn't come up in search results and is very difficult to find, I'm going to write it down here, before it dissapears completely.


For the broth:
1 tsp butter
Shrimp shells and heads
white fish trimmings, heads and bones
1 teaspoon of fennel seed
3 bay leaves
small bunch of parsley, whole
1 teaspoon salt
several grinds of black pepper

For the soup base:
2/3 cup of olive oil
2 or 3 large onions, chopped
10 cloves of garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fennel seed, or a small bulb of fennel, chopped
½ cup parsley, chopped fine
1 teaspoon salt
1 large can crushed tomatoes
2 teaspoons thyme
3 strips of peel from an orange, about ½" X 3", orange part only, no white flesh
3 bay leaves
2 teaspoons ground black pepper
1 teaspoon saffron (yes, a teaspoon of saffron, beleive it or not!)
2 teaspoons harissa sauce
one pound of inexpensive fish fillets (we used tilapia)

For the garlic mayonnaise:
one egg yolk
2 or 3 cloves of minced garlic
about 1 cup of olive oil
salt to taste

For the croutons:
a small baguette
¼ pound of gruyere cheese, grated

To garnish:
1 pound shrimp
1 pound scallops
1 pound seabass fillet, cut into bite-size pieces
1 pound red snapper fillet, cut into bite-size pieces
2 dozen clams or mussels

Make the broth:

Heat the butter in a large skillet. Sautee the shrimp heads and shells until fragrant, about 5 minutes.

In a large pot, combine shrimp shells and heads, fish trimmings, fennel seeds, bay leaves, and parsley. Add 2 quarts of water, season with salt and pepper, bring to a boil, and simmer gently for 30 minutes. Strain the broth, discard the solids.

Make the soup:

Heat the olive oil in a large pot. Add onions, garlic, parsley, and fennel seeds. Cook to soften the onions and garlic. Add the tomatoes, thyme, orange rind, bay leaves, black pepper, saffron and harissa. Cook for about 20 minutes. Add the fish filets and cook until the fish is done.

Remove and set aside the bay leaves and orange rind. Puree the soup in a blender in small batches. Return to the pot, add the orange rinds and bay leaves, and simmer another 30-45 minutes. Watch the color develop from bright yellow to a beautiful brick-red. Adjust the seasoning.

While the soup is cooking, thinly slice and lightly toast the bread and make the mayonnaise:
In a medium bowl, combine the egg yolk with garlic, and beat with a whisk or a mixer with a whisk attachement until the egg yolk turns pale yellow color. Start adding the oil, first by a drop, then by half-teaspoon, whisking constantly. Add salt to taste.

5 minutes before serving, add the clams or mussels to the simmering soup, bring back to the simmer, then add the scallops and fish.
Cook gently until the fish is just cooked through and the clams and mussels have opened.
(Serve them a little salad while they wait)
To serve, spread a little of the mayonnaise on the toasts and dip the toasts into the grated cheese.

Place two or three toasts into each soup bowl, and laddle the stew over them.

Artificial sunset (on the table)

My beautiful sunny California has been blanketed by fog for two weeks. We are not used to not getting any sunshine for so long, everyone was feeling low on energy. And confined: there is no reason to go anywhere on a weekend if all you will see is the same grey.

The last weekend's weather called for staying at home and cooking, and for some bright colors on the table. To make up for not seeing the sunset, I made a sunset colored salad with small purple, red, golden and white beets, roasted (unpeeled, untrimmed) at 375 degrees, in a dish with some water on the bottom, covered with foil, for about 40 minutes. When roasted this way, the beets leak very little juice, so the colors stay true. I still try to keep the purple beets in one corner of the dish, separated by some space from the rest. They do give off a little juice, and you don't need much of this juice to stain everything else. I also cut off the top of a head of garlic, wrapped it in foil, and roasted it alongside the beets. When the beets are cool, peel, quarter, mix with baby arugula, add roasted garlic, squeezed out of it's skin, dress with olive oil and red wine vinegar, sprinkle sel gris or sea salt on top.

For a chunky three-cabbage soup I sauteed celery, parsnip, onion and garlic, added one of my "bouillon cubes" (chicken stock that I freeze in square plastic containers), waited for it to melt, and brought to a boil. Then I added chopped Savoy cabbage, cavolo nero, and halved brussels sprouts, crumbled some dry herbs, and simmered until the cabbages were almost done. Added torn prosciutto slices, little dry pasta rings, adjusted the salt, waited for the pasta to cook (11 minutes), served the soup with a spoonful of Creme Fraiche.

For the main course, Ono steaks, pan-fried in half olive oil and half butter. The fish doesn't just turn a beautiful sunny golden color, but it's very Hawaiian flavor (and name) bring back the memories of warm sunny days.

Steamed Blue Lake beans (I know, I know, I overcooked the beans. Never again, I promise.) Sauteed chanterelle mushrooms.
I thinned Maui onions that are growing from seeds in a patio box and seem to like the fog very much, so the green onions on top are yet another Hawaiian reference.

The walnut bread is Jamie Oliver's basic bread recipe (halved; it still gave me more bread then we can eat - two medium loaves. Fortunately, it keeps well). I have mixed in two handfulls of walnut halves and pieces (and, as became clear at dinner, a couple of shell pieces too).

Baked at 500 degrees for about 15 minutes ( I sprayed some water in the oven before putting the bread in, to help with the crust), then at 375 degrees until baked through and the tap on the bottom gives a hollow sound.

This weekend it's raining, and we are told that a major Pacific winter storm is coming our way. We are all ready for a serious carwash. Stay home and cook again. Well, we made a brief trip to Napa, just for a glass of Champagne at Gloria Ferrer, and even saw something that we thought may have been a little sunshine between the clouds, for a moment. Then stay home and cook again.

I am making duck legs confit, smoking beef sausages, baking more walnut bread, curing bacon, and we are also planning a beef fondue + hot spiced wine, by the fireplace. We will survive the winter. The spring is near.

Food for skiers. Goulash soup.

Lake Tahoe is my love forever. In summer, the unbelievably blue color of the water, the clearest one can swim in, and the magical smell of tall pine trees in the sun are enough to make me happy. In winter… I am a skier, do I have to explain? I’ve been coming to some of my favorite Tahoe ski resorts for years, some seasons every weekend plus a few week days, when the snow report makes it impossible to go to the office.

Every mountain has its character, defined both by the terrain and people who work there. There is a place that has a famous ski school and offers lessons on advanced techniques and guided backcountry tours; another one is so enormously big that you can ski there for days and never do the same run twice; there is a mountain with the best fresh runs in the trees, and one where the lifties always play just the right kind of music.

However, all California ski resorts are missing one important thing: good food on the mountain. Skiing is a sport, and very energy-consuming one, if you do it right. It makes one hungry. And if you got hungry in the middle of the day on one of our mountains, the options are few:
- Go to one of the messy crowded slopeside “restaurants” and see if you can stand the look and smell of the fast-food-quality food on bent paper plates (and can afford it).
- Call it a day, and go to a restaurant in town, or back to the cabin and cook.
- If you brought sandwiches and were carrying them in your backpack, chances are that you fell a couple of times, or leaned on the back of the lift chair, or something. Then you and your buddies can get your sandwiches out and have some good fun comparing resulting shapes and counting pieces. But the sandwiches will be cold.

My solution so far has been: smashed and broken homemade ham and cheese sandwiches or beef pierogi from my backpack + paper cup of hot wine from a cafe.

A few days ago I found a blog post of my friend’s friend, posting from San Anton am Arlberg, a Tyrolean ski resort where my brother from and I like to meet and ski for one week every few years. We would stay in the village of Lech (San Anton covers two valleys and five villages, you can get from one to another by bus, or on skis and lifts – this takes some time and work). That blog post reminded me how we used to get on the lift next to our hotel in Lech in the morning and ski down the other side to Zurs. There we would enjoy some very long steep red pistes, some off-piste powder skiing, and by the lunchtime we would come to Seekopf, the ski foodie’s dream.

The restaurant sits in the middle of the mountain, overlooking Zurssee lake, lifts and ski trails; accessed by chairlift. It has a large patio and an extensive ski rack outside. Mostly Tyrolean traditional food is great, and you eat it from real plates, and drink your weissbier from a tall elegant glass, and your gluhwein from a cozy ceramic mug, while watching avalanches going down distant slopes.

Sausages rule the menu, of course. For soups (and the weather calls for a soup) they have Austrian goulashsuppe and an unlikely chili. (Californians should all go to Austria to sample chili and to learn how to make it. The best chili is not made from a can in a microwave, but is actually cooked using meat, beans, and peppers. )

Austrians adopted goulash from their Hungarian neighbors, who make it as a thick stew of beef and beef heart with a lot of paprika. In Austria, they left out the beef heart, and made goulash into a soup. Hot, fragrant, and filling, perfect lunch on a cold day.

My goulashsuppe is reverse-engineered from what I had in Zurs. I cooked it at home this time, but I wish I could get a bowl of it, or a decent chili, and a mug of hot wine, in any Tahoe ski resort, right next to the lift.

Hungarian paprika comes in hot and mild varieties. I am not very heat-tolerant, so I always use mild. That's just personal taste.

Goulash soup
4 large servings

2.5 lb beef chuck, trimmed of fat and cut into 1 inch cubes
1 large yellow onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped
2 Tbsp olive oil + more if needed
1 large (28 oz) can whole peeled tomatoes, with juice
1 red bell pepper, cored and chopped
3 cups beef or chicken stock
2 tsp Hungarian paprika
1 tsp caraway seed
2 bay leaves, broken into a few pieces
4-5 dried oregano sprigs (1/2 tsp)
4 juniper berries, lightly crushed
salt, pepper

Optional garnish: 4 tsp creme fraiche, 4 sprigs of parsley

Brown the beef on all sides in a heavy large sautee pan with some oil over high heat.

Heat a little oil in a medium heavy pot over medium heat. Add onions and cook, stirring, until transparent. Add garlic and cook another minute. Add tomatoes, peppers and stock. Bring to a low simmer. Season with paprika, caraway, oregano, bay leaves, juniper berries, salt and pepper.

Reduce the heat to maintain the lowest simmer. Cook until the beef is very tender, about 2 hours.

Divide between bowls, garnish with creme fraiche and parsley. Serve with a mug of hot wine, or a glass of beer.

Farewell, summer

The summer is over. We still have a few hot sunny days left, but these are short, and the nights are cold. As always, I haven't had enough. I want more.

My little fig tree tries to console me, giving me two or three ripe figs every day, R. brings tropical flowers, reminding me that it's summer somewhere now, and the farmers market delights with the early fall abundance. I still mourn the summer. Summer, come back!

Which doesnt't mean that I am not taking advantage of all these autumnal fruits and vegetables. Figs are wonderful just eaten whole, but they are also very good sliced, with a little goat cheese, honey, salt and pepper added. And they pair well with proscuitto, and with about any California wine, Lake County Sauvignon Blank and Zinfandels from Russian River and Dry Creek being the favorites.

The super-ripe, super-cheap tomatoes from the market ask to be slow-roasted:

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Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.
Line a wide shallow roasting pan or a baking sheet with aluminum foil, brush with olive oil.
Wash and dry medium-size ripe tomatoes. Cut in half crosswise. Arrange in the pan in one layer, cut side up. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and olive oil. Scatter oregano leaves on top.
Roast for about 3 hours to concentrate the flavor. During the last hour check the tomatoes every 15 minutes to make sure they do not burn.
Let cool in the pan.
Store covered with olive oil in a glass jar in the refrigerator up to two weeks. Add to sandwiches, pizzas, pastas; serve on crackers as an appetizer; mix with fire-roasted bell peppers and grilled eggplant and onion for a filling salad.

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Acorn squash, cut in half and with the seeds removed, looks like an exotic flower. One day I'll slice it thin with the skin still on, and bake or fry beautiful chips. This time I have ruined the beauty again: I made a soup.


Winter squash, pepper and garlic soup
serves 2
1 small acorn squash, or other winter squash, cut in half, seeds removed with a spoon and discarded
1 whole head of garlic, unpeeled
1 red bell pepper, roasted, peeled, seeded and sliced
1-1/2 cup chicken stock

To serve (optional):
2 Tbsp pesto (see my old post for recipe)
2 strips of bacon, fried, dried and crumbled
2 basil tops
1 tsp grated parmesan

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Cut the top 1/4 in. off the head of garlic to expose some flesh.

Brush the cut sides of the squash and garlic with olive oil, wrap the squash halves and the garlic head in aluminum foil, bake until soft, 35-40 minutes.

Remove squash and garlic from the oven, set aside to cool. When cool enough to handle, scoop the flesh out of the squash halves, and squeeze out the garlic cloves out of the skin. Add roasted bell pepper slices. Puree in a blender. Add the stock.

Pour into a pan, stir, reheat over low heat.

Serve with a spoonful of pesto and some bacon bits. Garnish with basil.

When makins the soup, save some of the squash/garlic puree to make a pasta sauce.
Here, capellini pasta is served two ways: with pesto, and with the squash and garlic puree (bacon bits and parmesan on both, of course):

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I have started my next food styling class. So my shopping list today looks like this:

- Chiabatta rolls 6 ea.
- Burger buns 6 ea.
- Sliced ham 1 lb. pkg.
- Sliced salami 1 lb. pkg.
- Sliced mozzarella 1 lb. pkg.
- Curly lettuce 1 ea.
- Red onion 1 ea.
- Large heirloom tomato
- Ground beef 2 lb.
- Something to eat

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