Filed under: asides, challenge, garden | Tags: Arizona, change, chicken, family, farmers markets, food, garden, grad school, graduation, home, jam, local, love, marmalade, Phoenix, season, sweet potato, tradition, transition
A year-and-a-half ago I started this blog. It was to be an experiment: could a grad student make one meal a week from all local ingredients? The answer, it turns out is yes. (As long as you take the term “meal” lightly.)
Now, I’m 11 days from graduation and I’ll no longer be a poor grad student. I’ll be a poor, recently-graduated student. There’s a difference, I’m sure.
It’s funny to look back at that first post. That moment when I vowed that I wouldn’t be growing anything, instead relying almost entirely on farmers markets around the city.
I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way I became a jam making, pickle canning, garden obsessing cook. It became less about cobbling together every possible ingredient – no matter the challenge – from a farmers market and more about making stand-out, stand-alone dishes from food I adored.
It was a beautiful and freeing change.
I’ve watched six seasons come and go while in grad school. In a small way, I’ve celebrated them all. I’ve eaten local both here in the Valley of the Sun and abroad.
Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.
But this isn’t all about the past. There are big changes on the horizon – even if I don’t quite know what they are, yet. But I do know one thing, the end of my masters career doesn’t mean the end of this blog.
I like local food too much to let this go.
Filed under: dinner, recipe | Tags: celebration, change, fall, local, new, orange, Phoenix, pumpkin, recipe, seasons, stuffed, waiting
Tonight it is cool outside. Things are changing: the sidewalks are no longer blistering to bare feet, the sun no longer holds the same intensity, pumpkins have appeared at grocery stores and I suddenly crave rich foods.
This is the beginning of a new season.
I have a tendency to measure the seasons by my orange tree. As the green orbs begin to gain color I know the cooler weather is coming. They aren’t quite there yet – but I’ve decided to pretend they are. I have to. I’m out of summer recipe ideas.
Fall is a decidedly melancholy season. A season of settling down, of putting the land to rest (but not in Phoenix), an expectation of cooler weather. But more than anything, it’s a season of waiting. Waiting for the cold, waiting for the winter, waiting for the holidays and, this year, waiting for graduation.
This is a fall I’ve looked forward to. This is a fall for celebrating.
So, to start it off, I’m bringing back my stuffed pumpkin recipe – a favorite from last fall and one perfect for celebrations.
Adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Around my French Table
Serves 6 (this will vary based on pumpkin size, the following is for a 6 pound pumpkin)
1 pumpkin, about 6 pounds
1/2 pound nine grain bread, sliced thinly and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
1/4 pound cheddar cheese, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1/4 pound Monterey Jack cheese, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
6 small slices ham, cooked and chopped into 1/4 inch pieces
2 Tbsp fresh chives, chopped
2 Tbsp mild onions or scallions, chopped
1 Tbsp thyme
2/3 cup heavy cream
pinch of freshly ground nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or you can use a dutch oven or casserole dish. The pumpkin will retain its shape regardless of what you cook in it, however if you plan to serve it in slices it’s best to use the baking sheet.
Cut a cap out of the top of the pumpkin and clean out the guts. Generously pepper the inside of the pumpkin and set in on the baking sheet or dish.
Toss the bread, cheese, ham, garlic and herbs together in a large bowl. Add the nutmeg and some salt and pepper to the cream (go easy on the salt, however, as the cheese and ham are quite salty). Pour the cream mixture over the combined ingredients and toss well. You want the bread to be moist, but not swimming in cream.
Using your hands – or a spoon – stuff the ingredients into the pumpkin. You may have too much or too little – every pumpkin is different – adjust as necessary. Place the cap on back on the pumpkin and bake for 2 hours. Check the pumpkin after 1 1/2 hours. For the last twenty minutes of cooking time remove the cap so the ingredients can brown and any residual liquid bakes off. The pumpkin is done when the ingredients are bubbling and the flesh of the pumpkin can be easily pierced with a knife.
You can serve this in slices or, if you prefer, scrape the pumpkin meat away from the sides and mix in with the stuffing.