Cooler days and bountiful fall gardens make this a perfect recipe for this time of year.
I’ve used butternut squash, but feel free to use whatever squash you have on hand in the garden or at your local farmer’s market. This recipe is a bit of work, but makes a huge batch of pasta. You’ll be thankful you took the time when you can come home after a long day at work and reach for these instead of a box of KD!
We had a terribly stormy day here on the West Coast the other day, of Winnie the Pooh proportions. (If you know your Winnie, you’ll know what I mean.)
Anyway. It was the kind of day that called for a simmering stock to warm the kitchen and a sturdy bowl of soup to warm the soul.
Jeff had just brought in the sugar pumpkins from the vines in the front yard, making Pumpkin Soup the obvious flavour du jour. Turns out Jeff spent the day working outside in the ugliness, so I got extra bonus points for preparing such a warm and cozy meal. Nice one.
This recipe works with any roasted squash. Each will produce a different, but equally delicious result. I used a sugar pumpkin, typically used in Pumpkin Pie.
Don’t forget to save the seeds for roasting! Nom nom!
If you use vegetable stock, this recipe is vegan.
It’s finally September. My hubby and I spent the weekend working on bringing in the last of the harvest. Tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, onions.
There are always a handful of onions that aren’t really big enough to bother curing. I hate to waste the fruits of my husband’s labour so I found a lovely way to take these unassuming little throwaways and turn them into little gems of oniony goodness.
You can use any small onion for this. We used small storage onions, small sweet Walla Walla, pearl onions and Cippolini.
Feel free to fiddle with the recipe. More vinegar for more tang, more or less honey to suit your sweet tooth.
These onions are delicious hot or cold. We ate ours warm with a fresh loaf of crusty organic country bread from A Bread Affair. The onions are so tender, they spread like butter, and the bread was perfect for mopping up the sauce.
They are equally good cold with a sharp white cheddar, in a sandwich (grilled cheese!) or as part of an antipasto plate.
That is, if they last that long.
Nom nom nom.
I love smoked salmon. Living on the West Coast of Canada, you kinda have to. It’s pretty much a pre-requisite to living here.
Problem is, it’s expensive. Darn expensive.
Obvious solution? Make your own.
Pink Salmon are pretty much at the bottom of the salmon totem pole. Poor things. Their flesh is pale and mushy and to be honest, they kind of stink.
For these reasons, in season, they’re cheap as chips. We’re talking 6 to 7 dollars per good-sized fish.
Better yet, you can spend a lovely day on the water or at the river and catch some of your own.
Did I mention that they’re stinky? Also slimey.
My first wild Pink Salmon in all it's stinky, slimey glory.
Anyway. I digress.
Curing Pink Salmon completely erases all it’s poor qualities, turning it into firm, delicious, wild salmony goodness.
