Squash Ravioli

I had half of a roasted butternut left over from making soup, so I thought I'd make it into ravioli. Now, making your own pasta is easy-peasy (really!), but right now I don't have a pasta machine or the patience to roll it out by hand. Wonton wrappers to the rescue.

I mixed the squash up with almost an equal amount of whole-milk ricotta, salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Next time, I'd use about half as much ricotta.




A tablespoon of filling on a wrapper, wet the edges, another one on top, press the air out and the edges together, and before you know it...




Gently drop them into boiling water one by one so they don't stick; when they float, they're done. I can think of several sauces that would be nice, but in the end I tossed them with just a little brown butter. Perfect.



Everything's better with some grated parm.

I love you, Autumn.

I love fall so, so much. Back to school outfits. New notebooks. That lovely crisp air. Scarves. Knitting. Hot baths.

And comfort food. Wonderful, unctuous, stick-to-your-ribs, honest food. Especially soup.

For this, I softened some garlic in olive oil, then added a small, thinly sliced yellow summer squash, with salt and pepper. Then, a splash of Champagne (for some reason I seem to have it on hand more than white wine these days), which I let reduce a bit while it helped to soften the squash. Next, two small chopped tomatoes and turmeric, because it seemed like the right thing to do.

A couple of cups of vegetable stock and the zest of a lemon. Then half a small butternut squash, roasted and mashed, along with half a can of rinsed white beans, and this was good to go. At least it was once it had a little shaved parm.



Perfect for a chilly evening.

Behold, the mighty CLT

I'm not sure who came up with the CLT, but I've never seen anyone eat them outside my family. I remember my dad making these for me when I was little, with perfect summer tomatoes still warm from the sun.

It's a great summer sandwich, and was a good friend to me all those years I was a vegetarian.

Heat a slice or two of good provolone in a nonstick skillet until it starts to turn golden brown, then flip and brown the other side a bit. Don't let it go too long; it should still tug at your teeth a little when you bite into it.

Toast some bread. You can spread it with some of that vile, insipid "mayonnaise" if you like, but I prefer a little smear of Dijon mustard. Stack up some crisp romaine, some good sliced tomatoes sprinkled with a little salt and pepper, and the warm, crispy-chewy provolone. Eat. Be happy. You won't miss the bacon at all, trust me.

#1 Prize Winner.

The Minnesota State Fair. Crap on a stick, washed up hair bands, big pigs (both human and porcine). But also: competitions for everything from crop art to biggest dahlia to best vegetables.

I was lucky enough to score some prize-winning tomatoes and jalapeños from fellow food-lover Peter. These are real, actual, Minnesota State Fair winners, folks. On his suggestion, I used the cherry tomatoes and two of the jalapeños to make a little fresh salsa. Added a clove of (the best ever) garlic from my dad's garden, and a bit of salt. No onions, because onions and I are not friends. Be a friend to your mucous membranes and invest in a big box of latex gloves to use when you're working with peppers. It's so worth it.



There. Now what else could a girl want for breakfast?


Well, maybe a couple of organic eggs. With just a bit of cheese. And a slice of No-Knead Bread to toast.





Yeah. That looks about right.

Cooks of the world...

...please, PLEASE, I beg of you, stop destroying your avocados.

They are so delectable, and so beautiful. Every time I see a TV "chef" (I am looking with prejudice in your direction, RACHAEL RAY) demonstrate how to remove an avocado from its shell, for use in a salad, etc, I die a little inside. Don't get me started on the terrible recipes I see inflicted upon avocados—for today, we will only deal with how to free one from its black, bumpy exterior.

Most books and TV "chefs" will tell you to halve the fruit, remove the pit, and then to scoop the flesh out in a single piece with a large spoon. NO! Not only does this waste a good deal of the flesh, it destroys the lovely shape and color of the perfectly green hemispheres.

FIrst, select an avocado with a uniform black skin, that gives way just slightly to the pressure of your thumb. If an avocado has soft spots, or if you can feel empty pockets between the skin and the flesh, put it back. If you can only find hard, unripe avocados, wrap them up in a paper lunch sack with a banana. The ethylene gas released by the banana, trapped in the bag, will help to ripen the avocado.



First, halve the avocado lengthwise with a sharp knife, circumnavigating the pit, resulting in this:




Next, give the pit a good whack with the heel of your knife (careful not to also give your hand a good whack), lodging the knife in the pit. Turn the knife to twist the pit free.



Remove the pit from the knife by pressing down on it from the top with your thumb.


Slice the avocado lengthwise; grasp a corner of the peel at either end, and carefully pull the peel away from the flesh.








Now you have 4 perfect avocado quarters to slice up for sushi, or to add to a salad.

Here's my guacamole recipe. For this, you do not need to peel the avocado; you can just halve it, remove the pit, and scrape the flesh out a bit at a time into the bowl. If you scrape it out this way (a small bit at a time rather than big chunks), you won't have to mash the avocado later. RESIST THE TEMPTATION to add salsa, hot peppers, or onions. Trust me on this.

1 large, juicy lime

salt (kosher, of course) & freshly ground pepper

1 clove of garlic, finely minced

1 ripe avocado

1 medium tomato, or 2 smallish roma tomatoes, seeded and chopped into quarter to half inch dice (it's important that they be seeded, otherwise far too much liquid is added to the guac)

generous handful of cilantro, chopped (optional; if you hate cilantro, just leave it out. If you like cilantro, this really makes the guac extraordinary)

Cut the lime in half; squeeze and ream well into a bowl, until all the juice is out. Add the garlic, and salt & pepper (about half a teaspoom each, to taste). Scrape the avocado flesh into the bowl; add the tomato and cilantro, and mix until combined. Yo want it to be nice and chunky, not smooth. Serve with tortilla chips (I like Garden of Eatin' Blue Corn Chips).

I'm so excited I could die.

Ah, to spend a few more weeks in the company of the Divine Tim Gunn. Le sigh.

Season 3 of Project Runway begins this Wednesday!

25 Things for Charity

I've joined a great blogger group called 25 Things for Charity (http://25thingsforcharity.blogspot.com/). We all commit to crafting a set number of things for charity in 12 months. I started doing some knitting for the Red Cross in February; since then, I've made 5 hats, 2 scarves, and a cardigan.