Everywhere A Squash Squash

These days, you can't turn a corner without running into a squash. Their maudlin little autumnal displays seem to be everywhere. Truth be told, they've just never turned me on. They seem to need a lot of foreplay before they give up some love with their impenetrable skins and hour plus roasting times.

I was presented with a reason to try, yet again, to embrace the squash because my friends from Harvest Moon Farms gave me a lovely care package with pasture raised meats, Italian greens, farm-fresh eggs and yes, a box of squash - Acorn and Delicata.

I had to come up with something new because the standard squash-apple soup recipe just leaves me cold. So I searched and tested a few new things to do with roasted squash.

First, Roast The Squash

You need a sharp knife and a good, sturdy cutting board to cut these suckers. Cut the squash in half, use a large spoon to scoop out the seeds and strings. Put in a roasting pan skin side down, throw some butter, chunky sea salt and fresh ground pepper in the little wells where the seeds used to be and cook at 375 for an hour or more until the flesh is soft and caramelized. Let cool and either scoop out large chunks with a spoon or peel away the skin and cut into square chunks. They don't need to look pretty to taste good.

So, these are my riffs on squash. Feel free to add, subtract and improvise to your taste.

Salad Ideas

Arugula, roasted squash, bacon, blue cheese, toasted walnuts, cider vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper

Arugula, prosciutto, roasted squash, pecorino shavings, good balsamic, olive oil, salt and pepper

Rainbow or red chard (I love it as a salad green, cut out the stems and saute them with garlic until soft, let cool and add to the salad), roasted squash, fresh mozzarella, sherry vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper

Grain Salads

Farro, squash, red onion, walnuts, goat cheese, walnut oil, salt and pepper

Couscous, squash, red onion, harissa, cinammon, sultanas (golden raisins plumped in hot water), toasted slivered almonds, walnut oil, salt and pepper

Panini

Griddle this - thinly slice the squash and toss with a touch of sherry vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper; add to sturdy sandwich bread with a thick lick of goat cheese, arugula and bacon.

Squash, I hardly knew thee...

The Promise of Pizza

For way too long I denied my love of good pizza. It all had to do with some screwed up notions about which foods I considered to be healthy or unhealthy. Thank goodness I'm finally unshackled because I really love pizza. I truly believe when we deny the things we love the most that's when we create an unhealthy situation. It sets up a guaranteed, never-ending, self-punishing trigger. My advice? Be honest with yourself about your most fervent pleasures; own and revel in them. Give yourself permission to enjoy them from time to time and earn your own trust around them. That way, they cease to be your adversaries. Even better if you can replace the processed versions with real ones along the way.

I love a good, blistery, slightly chewy, thin crust pizza and lately, I've had this burning desire to learn how to make it from scratch. It's seriously daunting for me - I've never worked with yeast. Not to mention, there are so many pizza dough recipes out there making all kinds of promises, it's hard to know where to begin. So, for my first foray, I went with someone who has never let me down...Martha. The one, the only.

At the library, I picked up The Martha Stewart Living Cookbook: The New Classics and in it, there was a recipe for pizza dough. I followed it to the letter. After the second rise, I punched down the dough, turned it out onto my pastry board and cut in into six, equal-sized discs. I wrapped each one individually in plastic wrap and placed them in my fridge. I left for a few hours, came home and checked on the dough only to find that the Michelin Man had taken up residence in there! The dough had expanded yet again, so I peeled away the plastic, punched it back down, rolled it out, cut and wrapped it once more.

The thing I've neglected to share is that it was also my good friend's birthday that evening and she had come to rely on eating very well in my home, so there was a lot riding on this. I could feel the pressure mounting.

I had planned to grill the pizzas. Our first pizza, a classic Margherita - fresh tomatoes, basil and mozzarella - died a slow death on the grill because of my own incompetence - I forgot to properly oil the dough and added the toppings before their time. However, there were pieces of the dough that tasted like the charred, chewy and smoky hardwood flavor I was going for which, gave me hope. I decided not to take a chance and blow the next pizza so I popped it in the oven. This one was an homage to a pizza I'd had at my favorite Chicago restaurant, Avec. Thinly shaved beets, arugula, marjoram, Manchego cheese and Nicoise olives. The toppings were stellar but the crust, honestly, had little flavor. But with enough wine, laughter and open air we managed to still enjoy it.

I declare that I am making a commitment right here and now to master pizza-making. There will be ongoing posts until I get it right. Until it meets my very high standards. Until I become fluent in the language and the feel of it. Until I can imagine that Martha's coming for lunch, and know without a doubt, she's going to be absolutely blown away.