Fall

broccoli.jpgThis is, without a doubt, going on my Thanksgiving table.  What is it about Gruyere cheese that is so dang good?  I love its assertiveness on the palate.

With that said, "Heavens to Murgatroyd" my friends, this is one yummy gratin.  I am truly in love with it.  You must make this or you will forever be sorry.  No, I'm not being dramatic, just assertive, like the cheese.

The Wildboar, who would never go out of his way to eat broccoli, wanted more and more.  I knew it was good.

This is another dish I cannot be alone with.  I would eat all of it and then pick the brown bits of cheese from the sides of the pan.  No joke.

If you are celebrating Thanksgiving elsewhere and need to bring a side dish, I'll give you instructions on how to prepare it for travel.  BUT don't wait for Thanksgiving to make this, have it today!

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polebeansraw.jpgWhen the pole bean trellis blew down for the second time, we left it. Granted, we were a bit annoyed at the pole beans. They took a lifetime to germinate and what seemed like eternity to start yielding. Meanwhile the bush beans were churning out lovely filet beans by the pound every day.  We would have ignored the pole beans altogether except for this nagging voice I had in my head, “Pole beans are better than bush beans.” I grew up with this voice. My father’s.

My father and his mother (my grandmother Honey, who “put up” pole beans at the end of every summer) were always carrying on about the superiority of “pole beans” over bush beans. (Pole beans are green bean varieties like Kentucky Wonder that grow on vines as long as 12 feet, therefore needing support in the form of poles or some other trellising.)  I needed to find out the truth for myself, as it seemed to me that our bush beans (a variety from FedCo called Beananza) were pretty darn tasty—and oh-so-lovely to look at, too. The pole beans looked kind of gnarled up and blotchy the minute they appeared on the scene.

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brusselssproutslaw.jpgThis 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!

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Image Eggplant is a delicious and versatile fruit. Yes, eggplant, a member of the nightshade family with tomatoes and potatoes,  is technically a berry. There are several different varieties of eggplant, some long, narrow and pale purple, some small, white and egg-shaped (do ya think that’s where the name came from?), some yellow, some striped and of course there is the large purpley-black globes that are the most common. I grew two varieties of eggplant this year, and while successful, the plants did not produce enough fruit to keep up with my appetite.

Eggplant is at it’s peak right now. I often pick up the big eggplants at the farmers’ market. I like to grill or broil eggplants slices and have them on hand for salads and sandwiches. I always salt, rinse and dry the slices before cooking; the salting process alters the surface—it doesn’t soak up olive oil. 

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applesauce.jpgMy local market recently had a sale on apples. I spent 10 minutes carefully selecting the most perfectly shaped, shiny Macs, Rome Beauties, and Pink Ladies I could find.

I gently placed my bags of apples on the conveyor belt at the checkout. As I continued to unload my remaining groceries, from the corner of my eye I saw my apples disappear from the belt: blam! onto the scale, then blam! into the grocery bag. Before I could utter a word, it was too late. My previously pristine apples were irrevocably spotted with unsightly blemishes.

Rather than trying to eat around the bruises, I did what any resourceful cook would do: I made apple sauce.

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