Bourbon Pumpkin Cheesecake

Let's try a little social experiment. I am going to attach an electrode to your head. And then I am going to present you with two different phrases. I will then measure the neural activity that accompanies each phrase.

Ready?

Okay.

Pumpkin cheesecake.

Waits thirty seconds.

Bourbon pumpkin cheesecake.
Mmmhmmm yes it was just as I suspected. You have alcohol-induced post-tetanic hyperpolarization. A very common syndrome that afflicts 99.9% of the adult population (and quite a few minors) in which the mention of any alcoholic substance in conjunction with a food induces a greater neurological response than the mention of the food alone. (Here is where you all breath a collective sigh of relief and think to yourself Oh good, maybe she IS learning something at that school. Other than how to bake artisan breads in 5 minutes a day. I will not disillusion you. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.)

The good news? This is NOT, I repeat NOT fatal.

The bad news? There is no known cure. Except possibly to gorge yourself on so much cheesecake that you become desensitized to it. But this would be quite a dangerous undertaking. Very few have done it and lived to tell the tale.

And sad, because is it actually worth living if you can't enjoy a good slice of cheesecake with your Thanksgiving dinner? I think not.
I am proud to say that this was actually the most successful of all the Thanksgiving desserts. The crust was my absolute favorite part. I sat at the table after everyone had eaten their slices picking at the little bits that were left behind.

Don't judge me.

Bourbon Pumpkin Cheesecake
Serves about 16, found via Smitten Kitchen who adapted it from Gourmet

For crust

• 3/4 cup graham cracker crumbs (from five 4 3/4- by 2 1/4-inch crackers)
• 1/2 cup pecans (1 3/4 ounces), finely chopped
• 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1/4 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

For filling

• 1 1/2 cups canned solid-pack pumpkin (I used one can)
  
• 3 large eggs
• 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons heavy cream
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 tablespoon bourbon liqueur or bourbon (NOT optional)
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch
• 1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 3 (8-ounce) packages cream cheese, at room temperature (I used reduced fat cream cheese)

For topping

• 2 cups sour cream (20 ounces) (I used reduced fat)
  
• 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
• 1 tablespoon bourbon liqueur or bourbon (Again, NOT optional)

Make crust:

Invert bottom of a 9-inch springform pan (to create flat bottom, which will make it easier to remove cake from pan), then lock on side and grease pan. NOTE - I used a 10-inch springform pan.

Stir together crumbs, pecans, sugars, and butter in a bowl until combined well. Press crumb mixture evenly onto bottom and 1/2 inch up side of pan, then chill crust, 1 hour.

Make filling and bake cheesecake:
Put oven rack in middle position and Preheat oven to 350°F.

Whisk together pumpkin, eggs, brown sugar, cream, vanilla, and liqueur (if using) in a bowl until combined.

Stir together granulated sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and salt in large bowl. Add cream cheese and beat with an electric mixer at high speed until creamy and smooth, about 3 minutes. Reduce speed to medium, then add pumpkin mixture and beat until smooth.

Pour filling into crust, smoothing top, then put springform pan in a shallow baking pan (in case springform leaks). Bake until center is just set, 50 to 60 minutes. Transfer to rack and cool 5 minutes. (Leave oven on.)

Make topping:
Whisk together sour cream, sugar, and liqueur (if using) in a bowl, then spread on top of cheesecake and bake 5 minutes.

Cool cheesecake completely in pan on rack, about 3 hours.

Chill, covered, until cold, at least 4 hours. Remove side of pan and bring to room temperature before serving.

FURTHER NOTES - I made this a day in advance and it kept very well in the fridge. I also did not bring it to room temperature before serving. No harm, no foul.

12 Weeks of Winter Squash: PW Style - Butternut Squash Puree

Happy belated Thanksgiving everyone! Or more importantly, happy morning after!

If you are here, reading this, then it means you must have mustered up the ability to roll yourself out of bed this morning, which is generally a good sign. (It also means that I have mustered up the ability to roll myself out of bed this morning. Don't look at me like that, considering the amount of food I consumed last night, me not being able to hoist myself out of bed was a distinct possibility.)

Dinner was held at my parents' house in Queens. There were 11 of us in attendance: my immediate family (parents, brother, sister), my mom's sister's family (my aunt, uncle, and two cousins) and my mom's cousin - my Aunt Jackie. A manageable number of people to cater to. Very much unlike the Thanksgivings of yore, when the entirety of my dad's side of the family (we are talking 30+ people here) would gather in my uncle's loft in lower Manhattan to have what can only be described as the most epic Thanksgiving celebrations ever. The whole thing was actually one huge tequila-drinking contest. Let's just say I was inoculated into the world of Patron and Jose Cuervo very early on. Let's also just say that it is a miracle that in all those years there was not a single car accident or DUI.
One would think that having fewer people at Thanksgiving would mean less food. Not the case. We could have fed thirty people. Easily. Fifty is probably a more accurate estimate. There was turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, a brussels sprouts salad, a beet salad, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffed artichoke hearts, stuffed mushrooms, cranberry sauce (times two - homemade - my version, and canned - yuck), and an appetizer spread of hummus (mine also - cilantro hummus), guacamole, cheese, and crackers. Plus dessert (pumpkin pie, apple pie, berry pie, pecan pie, Italian pastries, cookies, and my bourbon pumpkin cheesecake that I am going to tease you with now and then use as fodder for a later post).
And, of course, there was the butternut squash puree that I made. You knew that I wasn't going to go through Thanksgiving without a single winter squash recipe. That would be sacrilege at this point. And fairly dangerous since I'm pretty sure I would go through vitamin A withdrawal if I decreased my daily dosage so precipitously.

I also don't want to mess with this nice orange hue that my skin has taken on from all of the beta-carotene. I hear the radioactive look is in this season. And I am nothing if not fashion forward.
This was not the butternut squash recipe I originally intended on making. But then I stumbled upon the Foodie Fans of the Pioneer Woman (via Muneeba's lovely and completely droolworthy site). And saw that the first official challenge was to make one of PW's Thanksgiving side or dessert dishes.

And I thought to myself, What is one more blog event in light of the five million that I already take part in? (I have them all inserted into my Google Calendar and I swear there is not a week in the next month without a blog event deadline. Be afraid. Be very afraid.)

So I high-tailed it over to Ree's blog. And perused her Thanksgiving recipes. There was some drooling involved. And I may or may not have had to take a few cold showers.

Now I am a pacifist by nature. And also one to do what I'm told (maybe that is why I enjoy participating in blog events so much - they narrow down my menu choices to the point that I actually have no say at all whatsoever). So when Ree demanded that I try the butternut squash puree. And then added the threat of imminent attack if I didn't. I obeyed.

And thankfully so. Because this was fantastic. Maybe it's the butter, maybe it's the maple syrup, or maybe it's the combination of the two, but either way the squash absolutely melts in your mouth.

The kind of dish that you can't stop eating even if you try. Even if you are stuffed. Even if you feel like your stomach will implode. You keep putting spoonful after spoonful into your mouth. Because you just don't want the experience to end.

So I leave you with this. Try it. I probably won't deck ya. But only because depriving your taste buds of this culinary experience will be punishment enough.
This is the fifth recipe in my 12 Weeks of Winter Squash!

Butternut Squash Puree
Serves 8-10, adapted from The Pioneer Woman Cooks

2 butternut squash (4-5 pounds worth)
1/4 cup maple syrup
4 oz butter
a bit of salt and pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 400. Cut the squash in half length-wise and scoop out the seeds and pulp.

2. Place on a baking pan, facedown, and pour a cup or so of water into the pan. Roast until fork-tender (about 50 minutes).

3. Cut the butter into small-ish pieces and place in a large bowl. When the squash is done, scoop the flesh into the bowl, on top of the butter. Mash it using a potato masher. Pour in the maple syrup. Mash again. Add some salt and pepper to taste. Serve it like this or puree it in the food processor for a smoother squash experience. I only have a small food processor so I pureed about half of it and then got tired. And hungry.

Have the Cake - Coconut Cupcakes

"Where's your wicking layer?"

That was the first thing that Alan, my running partner, said to me when I met up with him on Sunday morning to go for a long run.

I stood there. Hands on my hips. Staring at him. For probably a full minute.

In the meantime, I had this internal monologue going through my head.

Wicking? Layer? Wicking...as in candle? Is he trying to say that I should cover myself in wax? Is this some kind of weird innuendo that I've never heard of before? Where's Donna when you need her? Should I be backing away right now, slowly? I mean, you think you know a person and then they come up to you and say something like this and it just goes to show you that you can never really know someone and-

At this point, Alan is circling me, looking me up and down in disbelief.

Kind of like a vulture, circling his prey.

He is not helping his case.


I get ready to run for it. Just in case he pounces.

"You don't have a windbreaking layer either. OR a thermal layer. And you're wearing a cotton sweatshirt."
Finally it occurs to me that perhaps he is not insane and that maybe, just maybe, the miscommunication is actually due to my inability to be coherent at 8AM.

"Okay Alan, so you're saying all of these words right now. And I'm not really sure how they apply to me. At this moment."

He looks at me, exasperated.

"Where's your winter running gear?"

So then I looked around. And noticed that everyone in the park was wearing gloves. And a hat. And a jacket. Some people were even in parkas. Tourists, I thought, mentally shaking my head in disbelief.

And there I was, wearing my spandex. And a sweatshirt. Obviously rejecting the notion that we might not be in Kansas anymore. And it might not be 70 degrees and sunny again. For a long, long time.

So we went for the run and it ended up warming up to about 52 degrees, which was fine. I managed to escape without any frostbitten fingers and toes, which was really all I could ask for. But I was shaken. I will concede.

When I got home, I called my mother and informed her that I was severely lacking in the wicking layer department. This got her very nervous.

"I also need a thermal layer and a windbreaking layer", I added, trying to sound authoritative and knowledgeable.

The more technical terms, the better.

"Plus I hear it's going to be really cold this winter. Starting sometime after Christmas. Probably December 26th to be exact. And boy, that winter running gear would really come in handy then..."
I can see her now as she ran to my father after getting off the phone with me. "Your daughter is hypothermic. We are going to Modell's. Now."

I have learned that all I have to do is plant a pretty innocuous seed in her head and she somehow manages to blow it entirely out of proportion. I fully expect that when I go home for Thanksgiving, she will have found some way to associate my lack of winter running gear with the imminent threat of nuclear war.

In the meantime, I am not ready to give into winter just yet. I don't want layers. Layer cake, maybe. But layers of long underwear followed by underarmour followed by a windbreaker? That's just unappealing.

So I will perpetuate my own denial for a while. And these coconut cupcakes with their coconut cream cheese frosting were just enough to send visions of palm trees and tropical islands through my head. So thank god for Have the Cake, the theme of which for this month was Coconut Cake. And whoever had the foresight to know that this little bit of summer was just what I would need to get me out of my early winter slump.
Coconut Cupcakes with Coconut Cream Cheese Frosting
Makes 2 dozen, adapted from The Bon Appetit Cookbook (the recipe was originally for Coconut Layer Cake but cupcakes are much easier to bring to class and share with my friends)

3 cups cake flour
1 tbsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce
1 3/4 cups sugar
3 eggs, separated
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp coconut extract
14 oz coconut milk, divided
1/4 tsp cream of tartar

8 oz cream cheese
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup confectioner's sugar (or more to taste)

1. Preheat oven to 350. Line two muffin tins with cupcake liners. Sift flour, baking powder and salt into a large bowl. Using an electric mixer, beat butter in a large bowl until smooth. Gradually add sugar and beat unti light and fluffy. Add in applesauce. Add egg yolks 1 at a time, beating well after each. Mix in vanilla and coconut extracts. Reserve 1/4 cup of coconut milk for frosting. Add flour mixture to butter mixture alternately with remaining coconut milk. Using clean dry beaters, beat egg whites and cream of tartar in another large bowl until medium-firm peaks form. Fold 1/3 of whites into cake batter to lighten, then fold in remaining whites.

2. Pour batter into cupcake tins. Bake about 15 minutes or until toothpick inserted comes out clean. Cool in pans 15 minutes. Cool completely on a wire rack.

3. Make frosting - beat cream cheese and butte rin a large bowl until smooth. Gradually sift powdered sugar over, mixing until well combined. Gradually add enough of the reserved 1/4 cup of coconut milk to make frosting spreadable. Chill for 1 hour.

4. Ice cupcakes. Eat.

12 Weeks of Winter Squash - Butternut Baked Ziti

I've never really been one to get intense cravings.

Case in point: about three years ago this guy I was kind of dating bought me a Snickers bar. For no apparent reason, actually, other than that he thought it was a good idea. I smiled graciously, thanked him profusely, and put the piece of chocolate on my dresser. (Needless to say, we did not date for very long after that. Any guy who brings me a Snickers bar instead of, say, strawberries and whipped cream or a diamond necklace - depending on how high maintenance I feel that day - is obviously not going to be compatible with me in the long term. He also thought McDonald's was a food group. So you know it really wasn't going anywhere).

That bar of chocolate sat on my dresser for the almost a year. Until I came home to find Tiffany running around our room one day like a hamster in one of those exercise wheels. When her eyes glazed over and she became comatose about an hour later, I knew what had happened.

I'm also pretty good at forcing myself to forget about foods that I know I shouldn't be eating. I have a box of oreos sitting in my cabinet that I used for a pie crust in September. I'm pretty sure I've convinced myself that they are just a figment of my imagination. Out of sight, out of mind? Maybe that's the key.
There are a few things that get to me, though.

Lately, dancing. I love to dance. And this is strange because up until about a month ago, I was pretty sure that I couldn't dance. Then we started going to all of these bars where they play all of this Top 40 pop music. And it is absolutely terrible. Really bad stuff.

And yet.

I love it all. Jay Z, Miley Cyrus, Black-Eyed Peas.

Of course, for a bar to really win me over they have to play Journey's Don't Stop Believing or Bon Jovi's Living On a Prayer at least once. But that goes without saying.

So that's one thing. And then, of course, there is running.

I will be walking down the street and all of a sudden I will think to myself, "How much better would this be if I was running right now?"

Followed by, "How much better would this be if I was running AND listening to Miley Cyrus?"

My conclusion, usually, is that it would be infinitely better.


Onto the foods.

There is a certain subset of food that I just can't keep hanging around my apartment. And the ironic thing about it, is that it's the healthy-ish stuff that I find myself being unable to resist. Dried fruit. For instance. Dangerous stuff.

Roasted broccoli. I will make a batch and then eat it until I am absolutely positively stuffed. And then I will keep eating it. Not that that's bad. It just gets to be uncomfortable after a while.

I think you know where this is going.

The two foods that I crave the most are...wait for it...wait for it...

Pasta and winter squash. Surprise surprise.

Now I have combined them in many ways before, from butternut mac and cheese to linguine with butternut squash and pesto. But this butternut baked ziti is by far the best.

I mean, how can you go wrong with ricotta combined with mozzarella and a beautiful herbed bechamel (the first bechamel I have ever really successfully made with almond milk, might I add!)? That is then mixed into mashed butternut squash? And infused with caramelized onions? All of which is poured over pasta, covered with more mozzarella, and then baked until it is an ooey gooey dream?

Um, you can't. Which is why I should have made this approximately 8 months ago. When I bookmarked it off of Reeni's blog (that girl is a genius) - the lovely and wonderful Cinnamon Spice and Everything Nice.

But better late than never, I suppose.

Butternut Baked Ziti
Serves 6, adapted from Cinnamon Spice and Everything Nice

1 lb pasta
3 cups mashed butternut squash (I roasted a 2 lb-ish butternut squash until soft and then scooped out the insides and food-processed them)
2 large yellow onions, sliced thinly
3 cloves garlic, minced
15 oz part-skim ricotta cheese
8 oz reduced fat shredded mozzarella
1 egg
1/4 cup almond milk (or regular milk)
2 tbsp butter
2 tbsp flour
2 cups almond milk
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp dried sage
1 tsp basil

1. Preheat the oven to 400.

2. Set up the water for the pasta and begin to caramelize the onions. Spray a non-stick pan and add the onions, salt and pepper, cooking over medium-low heat until the pasta is done cooking (30-40 minutes) or until the onions are lightly browned. Stir occasionally. In the last few minutes that the onions are cooking, add in the minced garlic. Remove from heat.

3. Cook pasta until al dente.

4. Spray a 9x13 baking dish with cooking spray. Pour the pasta and the caramelized onions in there. Mix together.

5. Make bechamel sauce. Melt two tablespoons butter in a medium saucepan whisk in flour, and cook for two - three minutes over low heat, until it turns a light golden brown. Whisk in 2 cups milk slowly and simmer for a few minutes, whisking frequently until sauce begins to thicken. Whisk in nutmeg, thyme, sage, and basil, pour into pan with pasta and toss to coat.

6. Mix the ricotta and the squash together. Add in the seasonings. Salt and pepper to taste. Mix into the pasta/onion/bechamel.

7. Beat an egg with 1/4 cup almond milk. Mix into the conglomeration described above. Top with the other half of mozzarella.

8. Cook for 25 minutes or until the top begins to brown. Let set for five minutes before cutting.

This is my fourth recipe for the 12 Weeks of Winter Squash, which is also being submitted to Deb of Kahakai Kitchen for this week's Presto Pasta Nights!

Cranberry Chutney (Take Two)

I was watching Top Chef the other day (episode 6 of this season).

Yes I am quite behind. Yes I think that this season's competitors are among the most talented yet. Yes I think Tom Colicchio is incredibly attractive.

Not that that has anything to do with anything. Just putting it out there. In case he's reading. (Hi, Tom!)

Anyway, so I'm watching this episode. The one with Penn and Teller. And for the elimination challenge, they are each assigned a different comfort food dish that they are supposed to recreate, albeit in a deconstructed form.

But what is deconstruction, you might ask? (To be or not to be - another pertinent question. Maybe for another day.) To deconstruct is to break something down into its components; to dismantle it. It is construction in reverse.

Or it is an obscenely incomprehensible vein of literary theory created by Jacques Derrida that no one can actually understand. "Deconstruction is not a dismantling of the structure of a text, but a demonstration that it has already dismantled itself. Its apparently-solid ground is no rock, but thin air."

It is all about the irreconciliable and contradictory quality of everything. Nothing is steady or sure or stable in any way, except for that we can depend on the fact that nothing is steady or sure or stable in any way. But even those two clauses are mutually exclusive. So where does that leave us? At the beginning. Or the end. It's all very chicken-and-egg (i.e. which came first).

I'm feeling a strong desire to emote this morning, in case you couldn't tell. Probably a sign that I shouldn't be blogging. But here I am. So bear with me.

After watching the episode I had a strong desire to deconstruct something. And it's stayed with me ever since.

The thing about deconstruction that I failed to mention before in all my pessimism was that it is actually all about breathing new life into something so that, even though what it once was no longer exists, the materials can live on, albeit in a different form. Same parts, different whole.

So I bring you this deconstructed peanut butter and "jelly" sandwich. Cranberry chutney instead of your traditional grape or raspberry jelly. Whole wheat pumpkin pie brioche because cranberries signify Thanksgiving and you can't have Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie. (Pumpkin pie brioche thus becomes pumpkin pie deconstructed.) And peanut butter because, well, old habits die hard. All assembled into a somewhat cohesive whole and then eaten open-faced. Piece by piece. Because that is actually how I have always eaten sandwiches. Sometimes the whole is not better than the sum of its parts. Or in a more positive light, sometimes you just want to stop and smell the roses. And appreciate everything for what it is and not what it could be if you just tweaked it or changed it or molded it in some way.

Again with the emoting.

I'm going to go make myself another sandwich.

Cranberry Chutney
Makes about 2 cups, adapted from Closet Cooking

1 (12 ounce) package fresh cranberries
1 apple (peeled, cored and diced)
1 onion (diced)
1 jalapeno pepper (finely diced)
1 tablespoon garlic (grated)
1 tablespoon ginger (grated)
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 cup cider vinegar

Place everything in a large pot and boil until thickened.

The end.

I am sending this to Deb of Kahakai Kitchen for Souper Sundays!

Orzotto with Spinach

This is what happened when I called my mother on Friday to tell her that I would be coming over for dinner on Saturday.

Phone rings.

Hello? (I still haven't figured out why she answers her cell phone as if she were asking a question. She can tell that it's me from the caller ID.)

Hi mom.

Oh! Hi! How are you?

I'm fine. So I'm thinking about coming home on Saturday but I have a huge test on Monday that I need to study for. So if I come over, it's just going to be for dinner. Like from 4-8. Otherwise, you won't see me until Thanksgiving.

Pregnant pause ensues.

Well.

Pause again, once more with feeling.

If you're sure that's what you want. She says solemnly. Gravely.

Mom. This isn't about what I want. It isn't even about you. Or dad. Or Dana. (It's not you, it's me? - probably not the right time.) It's just something that I have to do.

I guess.

Sharp intake of breath.

I guess, if you're sure.

End of conversation.

Gotta love the Catholic guilt. Or is it the Italian mother guilt? Or probably just the mother guilt, for as my friend Alan likes to say - guilt has no denomination. It's universal.
Then I get a call from her on Saturday morning.

So what are you cooking for dinner?

Classic. Thankfully, I had a plan. Risotto.

It's generally the one thing we can agree upon. With risotto we can avoid the eternal argument over whole wheat v. white pasta. We can also get away from the organic v. non-organic meat fight. And then of course there's the pork/beef v. chicken war of the 21st century, since I am partial to the former while my sister will only eat the latter. Plus I think my dad really likes the idea of sitting in his kitchen and eating risotto, since it is something that to him seems so high-end and gourmet. The kind of thing you can only order in restaurants. (Like me with creme brulee. I guarantee I will become convinced that you rank up there with Daniel Boulud and Rick Bayless if you make me creme brulee.) Which is kind of amazing because risotto isn't actually that hard to make. It requires a lot of attention and stirring, sure. But it's pretty hard to mess up. Let's keep that tidbit of information to ourselves though. Once he learns how to make it, he will try to intervene and give me advice on how to cook it. As it is now, he basically keeps out of it since he thinks that my risotto-cooking abilities are a fine-tuned skill that he knows nothing about. I would like to keep it that way.

But then, and here is where things get tricky, the supermarket across the street from my apartment didn't have any arborio rice.

Now can you explain to me what kind of supermarket (and we are talking a big chain here. Not to mention any names but cough The Food Emporium cough) on the UPPER EAST SIDE wouldn't carry arborio rice?!?!?

Breathe, Joanne. Breathe.

Fast forward to Plan B. Orzotto. Similar to risotto. Same exact cooking technique. But made with orzo instead of rice. Brilliant.

And crisis averted.

I went over, we laughed, we talked, we ran the gamut of mini arguments:

Joanne, are you sure you shouldn't cook that entire two pound box of orzo. I really don't think that a pound and a half is going to be enough. (For five people. As a side dish. I had to restrain myself from not going off on a rant about portion distortion and how it has poisoned the minds of Americans everywhere.)

Followed by, from my mother, as she looked pointedly at me:

You know. I'd really like to be a young grandmother.

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.
But the important thing is that they ate it. All of it. And I even managed to sneak some spinach into their systems.

This one's a keeper.

Orzotto with Spinach
Serves 6, adapted from Williams-Sonoma Risotto

7 cups broth, lightly simmering
1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, chopped into small pieces
1 lb spinach, chopped
3 cups orzo (or arborio rice)
1 cup dry white wine
2 tbsp butter
3 tbsp parmesan cheese
salt and pepper, to taste

1. Heat 1 tbsp of olive oil. Add the onion and saute for 4 minutes. Add the spinach, reduce heat to low, cover and cook for 4 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the spinach to a bowl. Leave as many of the onions as you can.

2. Add the orzo to the pan and saute for 3 minutes. Add the wine and stir until absorbed. Add the stock one ladleful at a time, constantly stirring and only adding the next ladleful once the previous one is almost evaporated. Do this until the orzo is cooked. Then stir in the spinach, butter, and parmesan cheese. Add salt and pepper to taste.

I served this with some sauteed chicken sausage from the local Italian deli. And I am submitting this to Presto Pasta Nights, which is being hosted this week over at Pots and Plots.

Regional Recipes: Cuba - Picadillo

I've always wanted to be a jet setter. Traveling the world in style, eating exotic foods in exotic places, mingling with the rich and famous. Doesn't sound like such a bad life.

But really, I would settle for "traveling the world". With or without the style. Give me a Motel Six or a hostel on a small street in a small town in Europe and I would be quite content. Give me a beautiful European man to keep me company in the aforesaid living situation. And I would be ecstatic. Sure, maybe we would only be able to communicate through sidelong glances and sweet caresses. But I would be up for the challenge. One should never underestimate the power of body language.
Alas, it doesn't seem like any of this debauchery is in store for me in the near future. So I will have to settle for cooking my way around the world with Regional Recipes. Which, all things considered, is not such a bad compromise. I get the food minus the possibility of having my heart broken by a dashing Frenchman who claims to be a duke once removed and is actually a mere window washer. Not that I have anything against window washers, but my general life plan is either to marry into wealth or to marry someone with a college education. The two, of course, not being mutually exclusive.

Really, I crack myself up sometimes.

But seriously, I do love Regional Recipes as an alternative to traveling the globe.

Next stop on our whirlwind tour: Cuba. You may have heard of it - it's a small country just south of Florida which I, being an American citizen, am forbidden to enter.

And while they may be able to prevent me from actually visiting Cuba, no one - not even the American government - can stop me from eating it's food. Which is a good thing because it is one of my favorites. I actually just adore all Latin American cuisine. Something about the tropical flavors and the fresh, bright spices and seasonings.

Picadillo is a traditional dish made in many Latin American countries. Generally, it is made with ground beef and tomatoes, and can have a variety of other ingredients depending on which country you are in. Cubans, for example, tend to infuse theirs with green peppers, green olives, and raisins. And, of course, garlic. One should never forget about the garlic. I think what really drew me to this, though, was the cinnamon. I have this thing for meat recipes that call for cinnamon. It's inexplicable.

But good rule of thumb - if you want me to like a dish, just throw in some cinnamon.
Picadillo
Serves 4, adapted from the Three Guys From Miami website

1 onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 lb lean ground beef (I used 90%)
2 tomatoes, chopped
1/2 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp cloves
1/2 tsp oregano
2 oz green olives
1/4 cup raisins

1. Saute the onion and green pepper for 5 minutes or until the onion is soft. Add the garlic and ground beef.

2. Mash the onion and bell pepper into the sauteing meat. Cook until the meat is browned, about 5 minutes.

3. Add the tomatoes and spices. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 15 minutes.

4. Add the olives and raisins and simmer for 5 minutes longer. Add salt and pepper to taste.

I served this with quinoa. I originally intended to have plantains with it but, of course, the one day I want plantains is the day that Whole Foods AND my local supermarket decide not to stock them. Next week they will probably be on sale for 10 cents a plantain. But isn't that how it always goes?

I am submitting this to Regional Recipes, which is being hosted by Darlene of Blazing Hot Wok.

Adventures with Yeast - Whole Wheat Pumpkin Pie Brioche

If you had asked me a year ago whether or not I would be sitting here today writing a blog post about baking my own bread, I would have laughed at you. And then secretly called up the local hospital to have you committed.

Of course, the blog wouldn't have existed yet.

So that would have been point of contention numero uno.

But barring that, up until just a few months ago, I considered bread baking to be something that happened to other people. Pastry chefs, Michelin award winners, expert bloggers like Natashya from Living in the Kitchen With Puppies and Deb of Smitten Kitchen. Anyone but me, essentially.
And then, somewhere along the line, something started to change. I started to change. Perhaps I became more adventurous or confident, or less afraid of failure.

Or maybe I just can't resist a good challenge. Or any opportunity to make a complete mess out of my kitchen and thereby drive my two roommates insane. And so really, I haven't changed at all, I'm just perpetuating all of my previously known character flaws.
Either way, when I read about HBinFive on Big Black Dog, which is a new cooking group that is going to bake its way through Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francois, I knew it was something I had to join.

What does this mean for you, my dear readers? Well, it means that you are going to be reading about my adventures with bread for the next four years (there are 100 recipes and we are going to post every other week. You do the math.)

Wow. I did not do that calculation before joining the group. If ever I had any commitment issues here is where they would rear their ugly heads.

So speak now or forever hold your peace.

Nothing?
Then here we go.

While the regular postings don't start until January, we have two bonus never-before-posted bread recipes that we are going to make, one in November and one in December. This whole wheat pumpkin pie brioche being the former.
The Process: While I can't post the recipes for any of these breads since the book has just been published and thus the recipes don't appear anywhere on the web, I can certainly tell you, in vague and qualitative terms, about what exactly I went through to get this bread on the table. The first thing you should know is that the premise of Healthy Bread in Five Minutes A Day is that the recipes are (a) whole grain and relatively healthy and (b) require very little hands on time.

Is this true?

So basically, I spent about fifteen minutes gathering and mixing ingredients on Friday. Then I left the mixture to rise and went to the gym. Two hours later, I came back. The dough had risen to monstrous proportions. I was pretty sure it was going to devour me AND the betta fish that is currently living on my kitchen table. It then went into the fridge, where it rested until the next morning. When I took it out, broke it into two, and let half of it sit in a loaf pan for 90 minutes. The other half went back into the fridge. It rose yet again. (I'm telling you, the yeast are out to get me. First I end up with a Swedish tea ring the size of a pizza and now I have pumpkin pie brioche that won't be stifled) Then into the oven it went, for about 40 minutes.

And voila! There you have it. I don't actually think it could get easier than that. Unless maybe I had a heavy duty mixer to mix the dough with. But in reality, I kind of like getting my hands dirty. It makes me feel like I'm really forging a connection with my dough. We become emotionally attached, share a few Kodak moments. And then I eat it. The circle of life at its finest.

The only changes that I made to the recipe were to use whole wheat flour instead of white whole wheat flour, since my grocery store was out of white whole wheat. The recipe also gave you the option of using oil or butter as the fat of choice. I chose vegetable oil. No saturated fats for me. Also, no egg wash or sugar sprinkles on top. Because I was so excited that I completely forgot before throwing the bread in the oven. But that is what the second loaf is for. (Reason number 132 why I love bread baking - you always get second chances.)
Okay But How Did It Taste: This bread was super moist and had little hints of pumpkiny flavor throughout. It is definitely a savory and not sweet bread, but all of the spices are certainly very reminiscent of pumpkin pie.

My favorite comment was from Sophie, who said that she could feel a nutmeg high coming on, that's how good it was (she really loves nutmeg). (And yes it is true that in high enough quantities - 4-8 tsp - nutmeg can have psychedelic effects.)

I enjoyed the bread with a smear of pumpkin butter on it and last night also made some cranberry chutney to smother it in (more on that in a later post), which reallycomplemented the flavor profile of the bread.

Less than 24 hours later, the loaf is 3/4 gone. And all I have to say is, thank god I have that other half of dough in the fridge.

Check out the round-up over at Big Black Dog to see what everyone else did with this dough! Or join in yourself! As I said before, the regular posting doesn't start until January so you have plenty of time to get involved!

12 Weeks of Winter Squash - Butternut Apple Cranberry Bake

The situation has turned hostile over at the New York Times Dining and Wine section. Writers have started wearing bullet proof vests to work every day. And carrying Uzis.

You heard it here first.

The time-old debate of turkey v. sides has reared it's ugly head, threatening to tear apart families and friendships, leaving nothing but animosity and hostility in it's wake. (Why can't we all just get along?)

Here's where you start shaking your head and saying, Joanne, what on EARTH are you talking about?

This week's Food section in the Times featuerd two articles, one by Kim Severson, who is a lover of all things turkey, and the other by Julia Moskin, who would be happy to leave the bird behind just to make room for more side dishes on the table.

As the holiday season draws near, I am sure that we are all presented with the dilemma of how to allot space on the dining room table (as well as how to allot space within our stomachs). There is only so much room to go around and so inevitably, some dishes are going to have to be kicked to the proverbial curb. At the risk of alienating some of my readers, I must disclose that I, myself, am a side person (as if you couldn't tell that from the abundance of squash and sweet potato dishes and the dearth of turkey recipes on the blog). Maybe it's just because I'm not the biggest meat eater in the world (that's a good idea, Joanne, try to diffuse the conflict by blaming it on your semi-vegetarian status - that won't be controversial at all). Or maybe it's because I like having diversity on my plate (that's why I like BBQ restaurants so much - they usually give you a choice of two sides with your meal. Plus cornbread.).

It's not that I don't like turkey. I do. I just like it best the day after on a sandwich with stuffing and cranberry sauce with a side of candied sweet potatoes or butternut squash.

Is that really so wrong?

For those like-minded individuals out there, this Butternut Squash Apple Cranberry Bake is an excellent side dish that features some of the season's best flavors. The roasting really brings out the sweetness of the apples and cranberries. And, well, you all know how I feel about butternut squash.

This recipe will be the third in my 12 Weeks of Winter Squash feature. I know, I have had two in one week. But I was (and still am) behind if I want this to be on track for Christmas. So I've resorted to double fisting the squash recipes. Desperate times call for desperate measures, what can I say.

Rather than cook up some turkey, I ate this with a sunny side up egg on toast smothered with Trader Joe's Pumpkin Butter. (Which is heavenly, I must add.)
Butternut Squash Apple Cranberry Bake
Serves 3 as an accompaniment to a lighter dinner or 8 as an accompaniment to Thanksgiving dinner, adapted from Simply Recipes

2 lb (or more) butternut squash, diced
2 large apples, sliced (I left the skins on because I am lazy but feel free to peel both the squash and the apples)
1/2 cup cranberries
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/8 cup butter
1/2 tbsp flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp nutmeg

1. Preheat oven to 350.

2. Put squash cubes in a baking dish. Place apples on top and then cranberries. Mix the flour, salt, sugar, and nutmeg in a bowl. Sprinkle on top. Dot with butter. Bake 50-60 minutes or until squash is tender.

I am submitting this to Weekend Herb Blogging which is being hosted this week by Astrid of Paulchen's Food Blog.

Pumpkin Pie Bars

We will read about ourselves in the history books in 10 years. The Canned Pumpkin Shortage of 2009.

When it was discovered that unfavorable weather had killed 1/3 of the national pumpkin crop and thus that canned pumpkin would be scarce this fall season, the nation's food blogging community, with a fervor that rivaled that of Black Friday's most aggressive shoppers, hit the supermarkets in droves, all for the sake of snatching up every last can of Libby's beloved pumpkin puree before it was too late. A few hospitalizations were reported as the thought of a pumpkin pie-less Thanksgiving pushed home cooks around the country to the edge of insanity. It was a dark time for our nation; one that we will hopefully never revisit.
And when my grandchildren ask me about it (Grandma, how did you EVER survive?). I will reply with a gleam in my eyes, knowing full well that, at least in my Whole Foods, pumpkin can be found lining the shelves in abundance, "You kids today don't know how lucky you have it. Back then, we never knew what to expect. Would there be pumpkin? Or would we have walked the six miles to the store in three feet of snow only to be turned away, emptyhanded? Dark times, I tell you. Dark. Times."
Yet, even though it is not bad as all that. You have to admit that the thought of going without pumpkin pie for another year made you twitch. Uncontrollably. For at least a minute or so.
Pumpkin Pie Bars
Makes 24, found on Joy the Baker who found it on the Kraft website

1 1/3 cups flour
3/4 cups sugar, divided
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cups butter, cold
1 cup oats
1/2 cup chopped pecans
8 oz cream cheese
3 eggs
1 (15 oz) can pumpkin
1 tbsp pumpkin pie spice
1 tsp vanilla

1. Heat oven to 350. Line a 9x13-inch pan with aluminum foil and then grease the foil. Mix flour, 1/4 cup sugar and 1/2 cup brown sugar in a bowl. Cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse sand. Mix in the oats and chopped pecans.

2. Reserve 1 cup of the oat mixture for later use. Press the rest of the oats into the prepared pan. Bake for 15 minutes. Beat together the cream cheese, eggs, pumpkin, pumpkin pie spice, remaining 1/2 cup sugar and vanilla. Pour over the crust. Sprinkle with the remaining oat mixture.

3. Bake for 25 minutes or until set. Let cool for 10 minutes. Use foil to transfer to a wire rack until cooled completely. Cut into 24 squares.

NOTES - I think this could be a bit more heavily spiced so next time I would use my own spice mixture, probably similar to the one I used in the pumpkin apple pie.

Also, please stop by Krazy Kitchen tomorrow for a special guest blogger post by yours truly!