Saturday, November 14, 2009

Making TBTAM's Butternut Squash Soup

So, there is is this neat blog called "The Blog That Ate Manhattan" http://theblogthatatemanhattan.blogspot.com/ that is written by a doctor in, of all places, Manhattan. Along with lots of good medical advice and articles, the author, Margaret Polaneczky,MD (aka TBTAM), also writes about a wide range of other topics including cooking and food.

Recently, I came into possession of TBTAM's infamous Butternut Squash Soup recipe, so tonight I am making the stuff. I have never personally dealt with a Butternut Squash, I have had pleasurable dealings with pumpkins, which are a cousin of the Butternut Squash who just happen to have had a much better publicists when the English tradition of carving turnips for Halloween made its way across the pond to America, where we, jumbo sizers that we are, decided that a turnip was just too puny for our needs and transferred the tradition to the more suitable pumpkin.

And, of course, none of that has anything to do with making butternut squash soup, other than that pumpkins smell and taste similar to butternut squashes, and also do quite well as soup.

I am excited about this recipe as it pushes me out of my comfy cooking comfort zone, not only by making me work with an unfamiliar squash, but also by forcing me to use 5-spice and Ginger, two spice choices I don't normally utilize.

So, here's the basics.
Get a butternut squash (you'll find them lurking in the shadowy back corners of the produce section, loitering near the potatoes and yams)


Peel the squash and then slice it in two, which will reveal a neat little cavity filled with much the same schmutz that you find inside of a pumpkin...scoop that stuff out so that all the seeds and stringy bits are gone.


Then, slice the squash into neat 2-inch chunks and place them in a bowl where you then toss them with olive oil, salt and pepper. (My apologies to TBTAM, but I replaced the pepper with Chipotle for a somewhat zestier twist).


Next place the oiled up chunks of squash onto a baking pan and shove them into a pre-heated to 350 degree oven. Leave them there for 30 minutes or so (turning occasionally) until they are nicely browned all the way around.


While the squash is cooking, mince two tablespoons of ginger and mix it with 1/2 teaspoon of 5-spice.

When the squash is baked properly, place the chunks into a food processor along with the ginger-5 spice blend and processorize it. Add a cup of vegetable broth and continue to processorize until it is smooth.

Pour the smooth squash into a medium sized stock pot and mix in one to two more cups of vegetable broth along with one cup of white wine (yeah!). And...simmer.

Before serving, mix one cup of creme fresh (I used fat-free half and half) and a tablespoon of orange juice and before serving, swizzle this mixture on top of the soup.

That's it. A great soup for a chilly winter's night.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Moving Too Fast


I gave up caffeine awhile back, which is kind of a big deal for me as I was drinking a lot of coffee each morning. The headaches I would get from either drinking too much coffee or not drinking enough were really getting tiresome, so I weaned myself onto decaf, which is all that I drink now.

I get fewer headaches, which is nice, and aside from a few mornings where the old starter just won't turn over, I have not been missing the early morning buzz. I still enjoy the warm cuppa every morning, its just a warm cuppa unleaded.

Anyway, I figured that once I got off the java-juice, I would become more relaxed and thus, more tolerant of the slower pace that the world surrounding me seems to have adopted of late.

No such luck. You see, I have the fortunate/unfortunate circumstance of living in the lovely county just north of the Golden Gate Bridge...once the center of the new age movement and 70's haven for all things spiritually and cosmic.

Its also freaking expensive to live here as well. Lovely climate, proximity to San Francisco, beautiful landscape...it all adds up to the ideal place to come and enjoy the fruits of a successful life. Except, it seems that all the people who moved here in the 70s and 80s to gobble up those fruits have stayed on here, and now the median age of the residents of this lovely little county is approaching triple digits...AND THESE PEOPLE MOVE WAY TOO FREAKING SLOW!!!!!

I mean seriously, it is incredibly annoying to me to be stuck behind someone driving a Jaguar who can't manage to push the peddle down far enough to overcome basic inertia. Fine, you made it, and you can buy that snazzy, expensive sports car...now drive the thing like it is supposed to be driven. Or, when you manage to claw your way out of it, pay attention to your physical presence in the world so that you don't meander up and down store aisles, essentially impeding any type of normal progress as you scour the shelves for just the right brand of Metamucil.

I know, I know, there but for the grace of God, and all that. Sure, I'll be old one day (sooner than I'd care to admit), and I too will be getting in the way of some irritable younger jerk who is just moving too darned fast...but I'm not there yet and I think that I need to face up to the fact that the pretty county that I grew up in has morphed into a big ex-hippie Sun City.

Sigh...hurry up with that double decaf! I got places to go!

Monday, November 9, 2009

I'm Missing New York...Time To Cook!






So I've been in a lousy mood today, everything is moving too slow, everything is too boring and dull and well...I just don't feel plugged in like I did in New York, so, if you know me at all you know that when I am feeling lousy I create complicated recipes to cook up for dinner. The more lousy I feel, the more complicated a recipe I think up.

Now combine this propensity with the fact that its once more pomegranate season and that's all she wrote...(BTW, who is she and what has she actually written anyway?)

So, here's what I made tonight. You decide how lousy I felt.

Main course, a spinach, caper and blue cheese stuffed chicken breast that is coated in a wash of pomegranate infused fat free sour cream covered by panko and baked at 350 for about 30 minutes until it is so tender that Elvis would cry when he slipped a fork through it. This is all covered by my patented pomegranate reduction sauce that, quite frankly, has been known to send Catholic School girls into dramatic fits of peremptory confessions of lust for the chef.

Side dishes, my ever famous spinach-mushroom-green-olive-Parmesan bake with panko flavored by salt-free chicken bouillon and , of course, just a touch of chipoltle to keep everyone honest.

Complimenting the spinach bake is a nice little salad of sliced Washington Pears with a pomegranate-sour-cream drizzle whose tang balances the pear's sweetness just right.

This whole meal took about an hour and a half to prepare with many complicated steps involving just about every available dish and cooking device in the house.

Do I feel better? Well the Barefoot Chardonnay www.barefootwine.com that accompanied the meal didn't hurt, and everything actually turned out quite tasty, so I still miss New York, but at least I feel well fed and a little buzzed so the longing is now more of a soft moan of the soul rather than the wrenching ache of longing that had defined most of my day.

Its a start...

The City That Never Sleeps?


10AM, Borders on Columbus Circle.
Don't worry, he's not dead...just very relaxed.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Infected By New York


It’s happened, I’ve been totally infected by New York. I am not complaining. I have been reawakened by the mainline jolt of electricity that is now buzzing along my veins. Up until now, I thought that San Francisco was about the biggest city that I could handle, being the shy little Marin country boy that I thought myself to be.
But that boy is gone now, seared away by the epic truth that I have now walked the streets of a real city. I have walked the streets of Paris, and she is beautiful and large as well, but I am far too American in my soul to ever feel at home there. And though San Francisco is where I have always called home, I wonder now if I have just accepted San Francisco because of proximity and because of growing up in a place that everyone tells me is so beautiful and desirable. Yes, this is my home, my roots and family are here, but aside from those strong ties, I have never felt the instant affinity for a place like I felt on the streets of Manhattan.

San Francisco has many charms and does look lovely as it sits like a princess on an azure silk pillow…but once you get closer you find the people cold and unfriendly, rushing about furiously trying to justify the expense of sharing the azure pillow with the princess.

I wonder if the coldness that pervades most of the people you pass on the streets of San Francisco comes from a deep-seated discontent. So many people come here to California, and San Francisco thinking that this place is the answer to the restlessness in their soul, but then they discover that San Francisco is just another place and the answer that they seek is really supposed to come from inside of them…and it just isn’t there, the answer continued to look even further on.

Maybe I am just smitten with New York, like the vivid thrill inspired by a new lover, but something feels so right and connected within me now that I have walked those streets.

Does this herald a new beginning? I rebirth? Not sure, but I think that I need to explore this new lover some more to find out.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Halloween in Penn Station


After the American Cancer Society pasta dinner on Saturday night, we were planning on just heading back to the hotel and having an early night so as to rest up for the race on Sunday. As we were leaving though, Sarah Colloum, the project manager for the ACS Team pointed out that we were very near to Penn Station and that we might want to check it out, being that it was Halloween and all.

So we walked the block to Penn Station and ducked in to get out of the rain.
So there we are, in a walkway leading up to 6th Ave, watching thousands of people coming off the trains dressed up for Halloween…WHAT A TREAT!!!

Many of the girl’s costumes seemed to have a common theme:

  • Sexy cop with badge and hot pants

  • Sexy nurse with a cap and very short skirt

  • Sexy zombie with bloody mouth and very short skirt

  • Sexy ganster girl, with fedora and very short skirt

  • Sexy…well you get the picture



Now, I wasn’t complaining, but I was more interested in the wild and unusual costumes that passed by, the ones NOT purchased at SexyCostumes.com.

And there were plenty to choose from, several pig outfits with the word Flu written on them, many centurions and gangsters and pirates and zombies and an extremely buff guy dressed as Snow White(boy wouldn’t the 7 Dwarfs been surprised!)
Then there were the just plain out there costumes that defied description, my favorite being a man (I assume) dressed head to toe in a bright green body stocking that covered his face and body completely…or the guy who was a walking Facebook Page with a cutout for his face where the profile page would be.
I was used to the parade and variety at the Castro in San Francisco, but this was truly a special moment for us and we just stood and gawked (and took pictures to be posted later).

Funny, I don’t mind being such an obvious bumpkin here. Besides, Halloween is made for watching and staring right?

Monday, November 2, 2009

Cosmic Tease


Even before we landed at JFK, there seemed to be some kind of cosmic conspiracy to keep us from getting to New York quickly. I know, the cosmos was just trying to build our anticipation, but enough already. Virgin America has wonderful in flight entertainment option s including a way that you can track your actual flight, so that was what I was doing as we approached New York. I popped up the nice Google map and saw our plane pointing East, taking dead aim at New York, but then a funny thing happened, the plan started pointing up (North) and then to the left, (Back West!) Along with the map, the display pops up altitude, airspeed and outside temperature (in case you were wanting to take a stroll on the wing at 30,000 feet, bring a coat…its a nippy 48 below zero and at 500 miles an hour the windchill might be severe).
For the next several minutes, the plane maneuvered through a series of complicated loops and turns that, according to the map, took us over much of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and quite possibly half the Eastern Seaboard. Finally the altitude started to reduce (the outside temperature started to creep up toward zero) and we seemed to get closer to something New Yorkish.

So, down through the clouds and onto solid ground again. We’re getting excited now and it helps that we are in row 5, so we figure that we’ll be some of the first ones off the plane (crafty thinking huh?), except that they don’t open the doors, and we wait, all of us on the plane flooded into the aisles or hunched over by the windows, waiting. Eventually the pilot came on and told us that one of our engines wouldn’t shut off so they couldn’t bring the jet way out to us. I could hear the engine whining in the background and had visions of some crazy cartoon jet spinning around on the tarmac with one engine blasting away…that didn’t happen by the way, we just sat there…waiting.

After about 20 minutes of this, the pilot came on and told us that they had managed to find the off switch and the door opened. We were released, New York here we come!

Not so fast dere bud!

New York wasn’t finished teasing us. We made it down to the baggage claim, only to be held outside the carousels by security guards who said that they were checking out a suspicious bag.

So, another 20 minute wait until they let us in, the suspicious bag having been checked out and whisked off to suspicious bag purgatory. But we were on our way…right?
Nope. The carousel spit out a couple of bags right away, and then…stopped. We all figured that between the delay before we were let of f the plane and then the delay getting into the carousel that there would have been plenty of time to get the bags out of the plane and into our hands.

We figured wrong, so another twenty minute wait…are we ever going to get to New York?
The bags came eventually, K’s alarm clock was going off inside of her bag so I was fairly certain that we were going to be descended upon by all manner of security forces…but they let that slip.

We had planned on taking the New York Airport Service bus to Manhattan. I had called a few days earlier to see if they would take us to the hotel and was assured that “Yeah, we can take you dere.” Funny though, when I spoke to one of the NYAS representatives at the airport itself, he looked at me with a grin and shook his head ‘no’.
He did give us a tip to go to the travelers aid who could arrange a shuttle for us. So we trooped on over to the traveler’s aid and a wonderful lady from Queen’s, Janey, got us set up with a shuttle.

Janey was pure Queens joy, with long blond to grey hair and friendly pretty face that complimented her open-direct demeanor. She was excited to find out that we were running the marathon and when we told her that there was a way to track our progress online, she asked for our numbers and then told us that she’d be at the 56th street bridge in Queens and that she would be rooting for us.
“You don’t gotta worry”, she told us, “Now you got family here in New York!”
Our shuttle driver arrived and we followed him out to the van where another couple climbed in with us.

Great we are on our way, New York here we come!!!!

“Heh, heh, heh. Man, you outta towners are the best y’know?”

The shuttle driver was really quite good, in fact he provided us with an extended tour of every possible turn and terminal available at JFK while he wound his way around looking for more passengers. I had no idea that one airport could be so convoluted and massive.

After a several stops we had filled the van with people and made it to the airport exit.

Woo hoo! Now we’re on our way! Just a quick ride down the Van Wick Expressway and we were there.
That’s when I remembered the Seinfeld episode where George was trying to get to JFK in record time except that, “I’ve never beaten the Van Wick”.

We didn’t either.

2 hours after landing we emerged from the tunnel into Manhattan and now it didn’t matter to us how long it took because we fell into instant tourist-yokel mode. Gawking out the window and being glad that somebody else was driving, especially when it became evident that New York celebrates the last Friday of the month like they do in San Francisco, with the streets being flooded with bikers participating in Critical Mass, although I have to say that New York Critical Massers have a far greater amount of courage than their sometimes noisy SF counterparts. These people were truly insane to try weaving in and out of New York traffic.

I have to say also, that while intense and crazy, I like New York drivers and pedestrians because both have an innate understanding of the physics and motion dynamics. None of this “how-dare-you-think-of-touching-me” pedestrian attitude that seems to pervade West Coast streets. No, here, people on the street understand that a speeding cab will run you down because they are faster and a whole lot heavier that you, so people on the streets pay attention and walk when there are no cars coming, not stepping blithely into the street as if they were impervious to physical laws and damage.

But, we’re here now, and we are ready! And already got family here!

In Flight



So, we’re in flight, somewhere over …umm, someplace snowy with turbulence. I have been bouncing off the walls for the last several days, the excitement about the marathon and getting to New York. K- has been doing a lot of research, which is good because my concentration is shot. I keep running through logistics: how will we get to the ferry? How will we get to the expo? How will we get from the end of the race to the first hotel to pick up our bags and get to the second hotel without collapsing?

But it will all work itself out I am sure.

And then there is New York. A lot of people find it hard to believe that I have lived this many years without ever setting foot there. I have seen it from the Jersey shore, and it is beautiful and thrilling and terrifying and mysterious…and I suspect, intoxicating. Though I wonder if I am still able to be addicted to such things.

We shall see in just a few hours.