Fall

Not every day is a winner in a food writer’s test kitchen. In fact, yesterday was kind of a stinker, if I’m really to be honest. I made some stuffed winter squash which was just—not good. I’ll spare you the details about the stuffing, but I have to tell you, the most frustrating thing was this: The squash were under-ripe. And so, as beautiful as they were raw, the squash were fibrous and bland when cooked. I know—I’m really making you salivate, now, huh?

I more or less suspected this was the case when I picked the squash before  I had solved this dilemma of “how do you tell when winter squash is ripe?” I know, I am supposed to be a vegetable expert. So I should definitely be hanged (or maybe something less dramatic) for continuing to cook the squash once I cut it open and started digging the seeds out of the hard, pale flesh.

I knew for sure then that the squash (especially the Delicatas) were under-ripe. (You’ve probably had this experience with a slightly green butternut squash you’ve bought at the market.) The thing is, in the gardening department, I’m still a neophyte, and try as I might, I haven’t been able to get a straight answer from other gardeners on how to tell when my stripey Carnival and Delicata squash are ripe.

I’ve been told to wait for the stems to wither and dry up on the vine (uh-oh, I am not that patient),  and I’ve been told to look for a good spot of orange color on the underside. But I am beginning to suspect that it is, in fact, a color issue.

Did you know the "Whoopie pie" is the State Treat of Maine? I had no idea states had designated treats. I'm dying to know what the state treat is here...it better be candy bacon.

While making these I started thinking about why these tasty little cakes have such a silly name. I did a little research and found Whoopie pies to be a Pennsylvania Amish and New England phenomenon. I suppose this is why I never had them as a child.

Apparently the Amish women would bake up these little desserts (likely with leftover cake batter) and put them in their husband's lunches. The men would pull out these treats and yell, "whoopie".

So...this is where I laughed out loud. I just don't see a bunch of guys yelling out, "whoopie" for cake. Do you?

Oh well, maybe they did. It was a different time. It just sounds funny. There are also three states that claim to be the birthplace of the Whoopie pie; Maine, New Hampshire and Pennsylvania. This little dessert has quite a history!

Pears have a special place in my childhood. When I was a kid, my family would pick pears from the trees in my aunt and uncle's backyard. They always had more pears than they knew what to do with. My aunt made pear sauce, much like apple sauce, and my mom would can the pears to be eaten as compote. We would also eat them raw, when their so sweet, juicy, and buttery. I love them that way, but often enough the ones you buy in the market are not the best to eat out of hand. That's when I like to poach pears to create a unique dessert.

Poaching pears in red wine turns them into glowing red jewels with tender and succulent flesh, flavored by the spiced poaching liquid. Spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, cardamom, or star anise can be added for exotic flavor. Citrus rind or tea leaves, like Earl Grey, also add flavor. The composition is up to you but the cooking method is simple. Once the pears are cooked, the poaching liquid can be reduced to create a syrup. Serve the pears with the reduction sauce and a dollop of crème fraîche for a very elegant dessert that would make a lovely ending to any dinner party.

This brussels sprout salad recipe is perfect for lovers and haters of the little cabbage-looking sprout. The flavor is so mild, that it barely has any cabbage flavor. Because the brussels sprouts are shredded, guests might not even know they are the basis for the dish. Sweet apples and toasted nuts add complexity and crunch. It's a nice balance of sweet, salty, crunchy, tangy with just a touch of richness from the walnuts and the oil.

Brussels sprout slaw is yet another recipe that was created out of "whatever was in the house." I will admit, laziness that keeps me from going to the store in turn inspires new recipes on a regular basis. In this case I had one apple and a bag of brussels sprouts. Back from a weekend out of town, I had no desire to go shopping.

My original plan was to roast or saute them, but raw was a refreshing change from the expected. You could probably slice the brussels sprouts very thinly with a knife, but it's much easier to do in a food processor or with a mandolin. You do have a mandolin, right? Cheap Japanese ones are fine, just watch your fingers!