Once again, Amy has left me for the (always) sunnier climes of Philadelphia for an artist residency at the Philadelphia Art Hotel. I’ve been feeling a little uninspired in the kitchen lately, but for some reason–probably missing her–I felt an overwhelming need to cook it down last night. Strange how sometimes cooking is a burst of creative energy, and others it’s a quiet therapy. Some people use TV to keep them company. I crank up the stereo and cook.

Because (a) any period of extended bachelorhood should start with a giant mess of rice and beans, and (b) the summer makes me crazy for Mexican food, it only made sense to pressure cook a vat of black beans. From there, I made variations on both our Mexican rice and refried beans, coming up with this:

Please forgive the terrible photo! Amy absconded with both the good camera and the great camera (oh, the dictates of art!). So hold on to your seats, the next 3 weeks will be a little bumpy. In the meantime, check in on her blog for great art and great photos.

Pardons aside, what you’re looking at is refried black beans on a toasted tortilla, with avocado and tomatoes, shredded lettuce, and Mexican rice with fresh purple pepper, jalapenos, and tomatoes from our garden.

The refried black beans are made the exact same way as standard refried beans, but subbing black beans for pintos. This version of Mexican rice was made the standard way, but with:

• 2 small purple peppers, seeded and chopped
• 2 jalapeno peppers, seeded and diced
• 1 medium-sized yellow onion, diced
• 2 medium-sized tomatoes, cut into large-ish pieces (not de-boogered)
• 4 cups of veggie stock
• 2 cups of brown rice

Stay tuned for possible variations on the above!

As many of you know, about once every two months we get a major fiendin’ for Mexican food. Our local options aren’t great, and among those, the vegan selection is pretty much bean flautas. So. We scratch the Mexican itch by making one of several different feasts, almost all involving guacamole, (homemade) refried beans, and then some variation on tacos, burritos, enchiladas, tostadas, quesadillas, or the infamous taco salad. On a good day, the feast involves Mexican rice. As you’ve learned by studying the Soymilk Flowchart, we’ve been on a crazy okara seitan chik’n kick lately. So we decided to switch things up and make spicy chik’n tacos–with refried beans, guacamole, and Mexican rice!

These things rocked a camel’s ass! Don’t get me wrong–I love a good tempeh taco any day–but these were a really nice change of pace. The beans and rice were probably the best we’ve made as well. This, I think, owes to the more traditional kitchen food chain we employed. Beans are usually made with some sort of fat and or stock and rice is almost always made with chicken stock. We used the leftover stock from our batch of seitan. We cook the seitan in Frontier ™ brand unchicken stock, which (a) gives the seitan a more chicken-y flavor and (b) produces a really nice stock–more robust than the unchicken stock on its own. What started way back with our soymilk is now working its way into the finer flavors of our Mexican feast.

You may already be familiar with our guacamole and refried beans. And you should definitely acquaint yourself with seitan chik’n: ours or Zoa’s okara seitan recipe.

Spicy Chik’n

To make the chik’n, follow one of the recipes above. In a bowl, mix up some taco seasoning. Add about 1/4 cup of water–just enough to make a medium thin paste–like a thin smoothy. Toss the chik’n patties in the mixture–one patty per person (the mixture will cover about 4 patties)–coating well. Store in a sealed container and refrigerate–the longer the better, for deeper marinade penetration (dirty!). When your beans and rice are just about done (or are just finished and on low heat) toss these guys on the grill, cooking until you get delicious grill marks on both sides. They should probably also be cooked thoroughly, but hey, you know what you like. Cut into cubes or strips, as per your preference.

Mexican Rice

We researched a ton of authentic Mexican rice recipes and cobbled this one together out of what seemed to be the common ingredients: rice, onion, garlic, tomato, stock.

• 2 cups long-grain rice (we used brown basmati)
• 4 cups chik’n stock (ideally from seitan)
• 1/2 medium-sized yellow onion, diced
• 4 cloves of garlic, diced
• 1/2 large tomato, de-boogered and chopped coarsely
• salt, to taste
• green onions, cilantro, and/or lime to garnish (optional)

In a medium-sized saucepan, saute the rice in oil over medium heat, until it begins to brown (or turn browner, in the case of brown rice). Add in the onion, garlic, and tomato, then the stock. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low and cover, cooking until the rice is soft and the stock has cooked in. If the rice finishes before the stock has cooked off completely, you can remove the cover and turn the heat up briefly to evaporate the remaining stock.

We served these in home-baked corn tortillas, with sides of refried beans and Mexican rice, and with a green onions, cilantro, lime, and a Corona ™, to garnish.

Mark and I have been a schosh wary of attempting certain ethnicities of foods- some Chinese and Thai, some Mexican, etc.  We can just get better food at a restaurant that has people of that particular ethnicity preparing the menu and food.  Or so we thought.  Score a huge point for IV tonight for whipping up a dern good stir fry in as copy-cat authentic a manner as possible.  The veggies were crispy!  The tofu firm and yummy!  Ironically, I did not learn how to make tonight’s meal from someone from China or Thailand.  No.  I learnt it by observing the cooking prowess of a Spanish-British-Canadian in Iceland.  That’s right.  Thank you Juliana España Keller for showing me how to make a decent Asian dish.  Here goes nothin’!

Authentish Summer Stir-Fry

• 1.5 cups uncooked brown rice
• 3 cups water for the rice
• 1 large white or yellow onion, cut into petals
• one head of garlic, each bulb peeled and cut into thin slices
• a smallish chunk of ginger, sliced finely
• a head of broccoli, chopped into florets
• a handful of snowpeas, whole
• about 1/2 cup Chinese cabbage, coarsely chopped
• 2 small to medium-sized carrots, cut into thin diagonal slices
• about 1/4 cup fresh coriander, leaves only (no stems)
• 3/4 of a 1 lb. block of tofu, frozen, then thawed
• 3 tbsp hoisin sauce
• 1 tsp chili sauce/paste
• 1 tsp thai curry past (any flavor)- we used red
• tamari to taste
• sesame or peanut oil to taste (for sauteing)

Start brown rice cooking first.  It takes about 40 minutes to cook and that’s about how long preparing the meal took, so it was ready right on time.  Next thaw the tofu in the microwave and press.  Cut into slices as pictured and set aside.  In a saute pan, drizzle a hefty amount of oil and about half of the chili paste, curry paste and hoisin sauce.  Add a touch of tamari.  Throw in a little bit of the garlic, onion and ginger and bring up to medium/hot and add tofu.  Allow tofu to brown on both sides, checking it periodically.   I would cook at about low-to-medium heat.  You can start the veggie part of the stir fry while the tofu is browning on one side, but be sure to keep an eye on it and flip it in time.  Once tofu is finished, remove from heat and put pieces on a plate.  Pour remaining oil/sauce onto cooking veggies.

While the rice and tofu are cooking, have all of your veggies ready to go.  Add the rest of all sauces (and a little tamari) and some oil to a wok or large saute pan and bring up to high heat.  Add veggies in batches, starting with onions, ginger and garlic.  Toss them in oil/sauce mixture on high heat, adding a small amount of water to create some steam- about a minute.  While they’re still very crisp, add the broccoli, carrots and snow peas.  Stir them continually for about two minutes or so.   Add a little more water to create a little more steam to cook the broccoli to al dente.  Next add the coriander and cabbage.  Toss in with the rest of the veggies, adding a bit more oil or water or both if necessary.  Add a little tamari.  These last ingredients barely need time on the heat, as they will continue to cook once the wok is removed from the heat source.  Be mindful that the veggies should remain crisp and the stir fry is finished when the broccoli and snow peas are a very bright green.

Place stir-fry in a large bowl (to stop the cooking process) and add the tofu.  Pour any remaining sauce over the mixture and stir.  Serve with the brown rice.  Hooray!

Having slogged my way through those first two funky batches of soymilk, it was time to try again, this time using the proper measurements. It turns out that one SoyQuick cup = 1/2 actual cup. Of course! Does anyone else see this as a disaster waiting to happen? That being said, the first batch wasn’t a total disaster–many recipes actually call for “2 cups” of soybeans (i.e. 1 actual cup, which is what I used). For this most recent batch, I followed Julie Hasson’s recipe pretty closely, but used Zoa’s filtration method, to compare against the previous batch. Though still a tad beany, it was much smoother and tastier than the first round. I would actually dunk a cookie in this batch, did in fact enjoy it on a bowl of cereal. Observe:

To get a sense of the taste, and where I might want to go with it, I didn’t add anything to the soymilk initially. Though not as beany as the first batches, it was still just outside the drinkable-on-its-own range. As per Julie’s recipe, I added in 4 tbsp malt extract powder (make sure it’s extract powder, not just powder; and don’t use syrup; you can find it at shops that sell home-brewing supplies). This gives the soymilk a richer taste, and sweetens it just a hair–not enough for it to be “sweet”, but enough to cut any bitter edge and cut down on the beany flavor. If I were going to use this as my unsweetened batch, I would have stopped there. But I wanted a drinkable version that I could put on my cereal, so I added 1 tbsp of sugar. It’s still not sweet, per se, but was awesome on my cereal.

Aside from using too many beans and not filtering enough the first time, I think I also made a few mistakes with sweeteners. I used agave in one and brown rice syrup in the other–and then re-filtered the soymilk after adding the syrups. This caused the second jug of the first batch to separate horribly.  I should have been much more scientific in my approach, but I can’t recall which jug had which sweetener. Using the powers of inductive reasoning, I’ve concluded that it was the brown rice syrup batch that separated, as that was supposed to be the “unsweetened” batch, and it was the unsweetened batch that separated. So. Agave would appear to be safe. Additionally, I don’t know if it was the brown rice syrup, the second filtration, or the combination of the two that was truly at fault. I think as a general rule of thumb, stick with powders over syrups. Syrups separate. The best bet for sweetening is probably to follow Zoa’s lead and just add raw dates to the soymilk maker up front.

With a new batch of soymilk on the way, I also had a new batch of okara on the way–meaning I needed to use up my previous store. I didn’t do anything to dry my okara out, beyond mashing it with a spoon into the filters during the filtration process. So, my okara is “wet”. Before I explore the intricacies of wringing out the okara a little, I thought I’d explore the limits of laziness and establish some uses for a wetter okara.

As I mentioned in the previous post, I made Zoa’s Okara Seitan Chik’n. Aside from the salad and bowties, I made a veggie & chik’n couscous–using not only the okara seitan, but also cooking the couscous in the broth from the seitan. Everything in its place.

The next night, Joe treated me to his famous Spicy Ramen (recipe forthcoming!), a true delicacy. Made, not surprisingly, with seitan chik’n.

As you may have noticed, asparagus is no longer in season, and broccoli now is. Farewell asparagus! Welcome broccoli!

Even after making the okara seitan, I still had 2 full cups (actual cups, not SoyQuick cups!) of okara leftover. What to do with it? Then it hit me–broccoli & rice bake-em-up! I replaced the tofu with the 2 cups of wet okara and the 2 cups of faux milk with 1.5 cups of water. Also, since the farmer’s market was the next morning and I’d run out of broccoli, I used kale from our garden, subbing 2 cups of chopped kale for the broccoli. It turned out perfectly!

As is true of the standard version of this recipe, you will end up with too much sauce. Save out 1 – 1.5 cups, and you should be left with just the right amount. You can use the leftover sauce for Okara Chik’n Al-faux-do–for a double dose of okara action!

And what better time? Summer squash is popping up everywhere at the farmer’s market. But maybe this is too much? I’ve gone off the okara/soymilk deep end?

Perhaps, perhaps. Of course, this is just the sort of challenge I appreciate–and just the sort of challenge you’ve come to know and love during my occasional bachelorhoods: how can we use everything up without wasting anything? In general, we should train ourselves to see reducing waste and getting the most out of the resources that we use as a fun challenge, rather than an oppressive burden. In centuries past, this is how people had to cook–something that we’ve moved away from with advent of better preservation and, ultimately, processed, packaged, single-serving meals.

Consider it: making one batch of soymilk has shaped, in many ways, two weeks of cooking. Not quite the same as buying a carton of soymilk. And what happens to all of the waste produced during the commercial soymilk-making process?

[A]s a significant byproduct of soy milk and tofu manufacturing, okara is commonly used as animal feed since its production usually exceeds demands for human consumption. For this reason, it is not uncommon for tofu and soymilk factories to be located close to animal farms in many Asian countries. In Western countries, okara is used almost exclusively for the production of pig and cattle feed, although it does appear as an ingredient for vegetarian burger patties. – Wikipedia entry on Okara (food)

So, chances are that if you’re consuming commercial soymilk, you’re contributing (very) indirectly to factory farming. I say this uncritically, as we’re all enmeshed in the tangled system and can only extricate ourselves one bit at a time. The focus here is not on why you want to avoid commercial soymilks, but why you might want to make your own–as a way to be closer to your food and its production; to reduce physical waste; to eat more locally; and to understand your diet holistically, to see your food choices not in the context of a single meal, but rather as a week of meals, a month, a season.

Okay. I’m getting off my soapbox now and heating up some leftovers!

Growing up, I ate a lot of leftovers. My parents both worked two jobs so it was much more efficient to make a few big meals and then eat leftovers on off nights–especially since I could heat them up myself. Since you can’t always eke out a full meal from a single leftover, you often have to combine things or eat separate dishes. My mom referred to this as “Grab ‘n’ Growl”, a term passed down through the generations in my family’s unique (read: very bizarre) lexicon, which posits a family as a bunch of Neanderthals scavenging the fridge for food, battling over the best bits. Closer to the truth, perhaps, than we’d like to admit.

With Amy in Budapest, it’s officially grab ‘n growl week. This is sort of weird, since it’s just me, but I feel less lonely if I growl. Since I tend to do most of the cooking, the swingin’ bachelor life doesn’t necessitate eating cold beans out of cans, scratching my crotch, and drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. I may prowl the house growling, but I can still drink whiskey from a glass. What the bachelor life does invoke, however, is my occasional need to purge the refrigerator of leftovers and about-to-go-bad food. On a small scale, this is best accomplished in a single meal. But with Amy gone–taking her need for delicious, inventive cuisine with her–I’m free to do a major purge, using up everything in strange and sometimes wonderful/sometimes not combinations.  In other words, this isn’t generally the kind of food I’d foist on other people.

But from the ashes doth arise the phoenix! Behold these Curried Potato Everything Cakes aka Poor Man’s Pakora:

These puppies used up mashed potatoes, mushrooms, Brussels sprouts, kale, and a scosh of raw sushi filling, as well as some leftover Chik’n Almond Bake and crushed crackers for the breading. For combining so many different–and somewhat disparate–ingredients, these were actually pretty awesome. The cracker/Chik’n Almond Bake combo was the key.

I enjoyed this with leftover Avocado Wasabi Salad ala Vegan Yum Yum:

Remember that Roasted Poblano Chili? The leftover beans (I still haven’t mastered the exact yield of dry beans when you cook them) were a perfect base (along with rice, obviously) for beans and rice.

On Saturday, I made a green Thai curry out of a small smattering of frozen veggies (ack! I know), tofu, and the leftover raw Siamese Dream Soup.

And finally, last night I made a version of Zuppa Toscana, using up the rest of the mashed potatoes; some dilapidated turnips that didn’t make it into the Potato, Turnip, & Rosemary Soup; and the unused tempeh (we get it in bulk) from the Smoky Tempeh Hummus Wraps.

That’s a lot of food! As I’ve chiseled away at out leftovers (and this post), it’s become clear to me that we both cook and shop for our palettes, not from our resources. Forgive me if I’m stretching here, but this, in a general sense, is one the key problems with the American food industry. You can get as much of anything, from anywhere, at any time, as you want.  The variety comes from the store, not from your kitchen and brain.

Equally problematic is the amount of time between trips to the grocery store. Like most Americans, we tend to go once a week, if that. We task ourselves with predicting what our future selves will want to eat–based on what? How can we know what we’ll want to eat 3 days from now? This means that as the week wears on, we become less satisfied with our choices and less likely to cook with what we bought. Scanning our half-full fridge, nothing looks good. So we either (a) settle on something merely “acceptable” or (b) give up completely and go out for dinner. I’m not against going out to eat, but I think it should be a deliberate choice–because you want to, not because you need to. But (a) is a bit of a crapshoot; on nights when I’m feeling creative, it’s a fun challenge and usually turns out pretty tasty. On off nights, it’s a burden and “edible” suffices.

One solution to this is to shop more frequently and buy less. This also helps ensure the freshness of your food. The other solution, I’m afraid to say, may be getting comfortable with “pretty good” some of the time. Maybe it’s been a good week for culinary creativity, but I feel like I’ve eaten pretty well with nary a thought of hitting up the grocery store (okay…that’s not entirely true…when I ran out of soy sauce, I felt a ripple of panic). This may owe, in part, to the very fact that I’ve used up almost everything in the fridge; my choices have dwindled as the week wore on. While some choice is certainly good, a lot of choice, it turns out, is actually rather bad (think about your occasional trip to an all-vegan restaurant–it’s almost paralyzing; you’re not accustomed to so many choices). The problem with too many choices is our tendency to weigh any single choice against the combined best parts of all the other choices. While this doesn’t actually change how good any single choice is, it does change how satisfied we feel.

So my final thought, in this lazy cognitive meandering, is that our enjoyment of our food is often based on our frame of reference. Given my limited options, what I came up with seemed really good–as soon as I’d eliminated the other possibilities. This is the fulcrum on which “leftovers” become “leftover surprise”.

Rrrrrooaawww!

Of all the soups on this Earth, the Thai Tom Kha is among my favorites.

We were introduced to it at the Thai Pavilion in DeKalb, IL–where I was introduced to Thai food in general. There seem to be lots of varieties of this tofu & coconut soup–some sweet and rich, others more savory–and the Thai Pavilion’s was sweet. Perhaps because that’s the Tom Kha I first loved, it’s the one I love best, and the one I’ve been striving for years to reproduce at home–with mixed levels of success. I had half an acorn squash and shloads of tofu on hand from the Indigenous Scramble, and a hankerin’ for soup, so this seemed like the perfect time to once again attempt a Tom Kha. This version is only slightly modified from Nancie McDermott’s Real Vegetarian Thai, a book I’ve been faithfully neglecting for years. Also, this version was pretty awesome.

Tom Kha w/Acorn Squash

• 2 cans of coconut milk
• 1.5 cups of veggie stock
• fresh ginger, cut into about 20 quarter-sized disks (the recipe calls for galanga, but we never seem to have that on hand)
• 10 peppercorns
• zest from an entire lime (in theory, kaffir lime leaves are more authentic, but also harder to come by)
• 1/2 lb extra firm tofu, drained and cubed
• 1/2 acorn squash, skinned and cubed
• 6 mushrooms, cut into fourths (or slightly smaller if they’re large mushrooms)
• 2 tbsp lime juice
• 1 tbsp soy sauce (or gluten-free tamari)
• 4 stalk of lemon grass (we left these out and it was still delicious; you can also use lemon grass powder)
• 1 tbsp brown sugar (optional)
• green onions, chopped
• salt, to taste

In a medium to large pot, bring coconut milk and veggie stock to a boil. Add in the ginger/galanga, lime leaves/zest, peppercorns, and prepped lemongrass (if using) and reduce heat to simmer. We had leftover baked acorn squash, I just removed to skin and cubed it. For firmer squash, you’ll want it uncooked–which means that you’ll need to pare off the skin, then cube. Add the squash and mushrooms and bring back to a boil, cooking for 10 minutes. Add in the remaining ingredients, cooking until the tofu is heated through and has acquired some of the soup’s deliciosity.

This is best served (and we think traditionally) with rice on the side. Take a spoonful of rice and dunk it in the soup, occasionally grabbing some tofu, squash, or a mushroom. Place contents in your mouth. Rejoice.

We had this with a “Thai” salad–essentially a Western salad, but with a Peanut Sesame Ginger dressing, peanuts, sliced clementine, and a bit of wakame on the salad.

Thai Peanut Sesame Ginger Dressing

• 2 tbsp rice wine vinegar
• 2 tbsp peanut oil
• 3 tbsp water
• 6 tbsp safflower oil
• 1 tbsp sesame oil
• 2 tbsp soy sauce (or gluten-free tamari)
• 1 tbsp freshly grated ginger
• 1 tbsp natural peanut butter
• 1 large carrot, peeled
• 1 tbsp red thai curry paste
• 1 tbsp chopped onion

Blend all ingredients in a blender until smooth.

No, this is not a hilarious dance performed by the natives to this continent–it’s a tofu scramble made with local ingredients, namely wild rice and acorn squash. I like to imagine this as the Thanksgiving Breakfast, pilgrims and natives alike feasting cruelty-free on tofu and native crops. No one gave anyone smallpox and everyone lived happily ever after. The end. Manifest Destiny only required that the food was delicious.

We made this for a brunch this morning (well, this afternoon). This being the Year of the Brunch, it’s been a real challenge to make a sufficient variety of breakfast foods without (a) repeating ourselves and (b) overlapping with what others are making. Remember that brunch where you all made potatoes?

This was inspired by a scramble we had some time back at Seva, a local vegetarian restaurant. It’s a little labor intensive for your usual breakfast, so it’s more ideal for a brunch-type scenario. Accordingly, this recipe is for a double batch–so be sure to halve everything if you’re only feeding a few people and/or don’t want a ton of leftovers.

Indigenous Scramble

• 2 medium-sized white onions, diced
• 2 lbs of tofu, drained
• 1/2 medium – large acorn squash
• 1 cup (uncooked) wild rice
• 2 cups water
• 1/3 cup nutritional yeast
• 1 tsp turmeric
• 2 tsp herbs d’provence
• salt & pepper, to taste
• high heat cooking oil

Preheat your over to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Cut the acorn squash in half and place on baking sheet in a small drizzle of high heat cooking oil (like Safflower). Bake for 30 – 40 minutes, until you can remove the skin, but the squash is still solid enough to cut into pieces. Don’t worry too much about overcooking it–it’ll still be awesome, but you’ll lose a little something in texture.

Meanwhile, in a medium-sized saucepan, heat 1 tbsp cooking oil over high heat. Add in the wild rice, tossing, and cook for about 3 minutes. Add in the water, bring to boil, then reduce heat and cover, cooking until the water is gone and the rice is done.

Meanmeanwhile, saute the onion in oil in a large pot over medium heat. Once the onions are soft, add in the tofu, crumbling. Now add in the nu yeast and the turmeric. When the squash is done, peel the skin off and cut it into bite-sized pieces. Add it to the tofu. When the rice is done, add that too, Finally, add in the spices, salt, and pepper. Mix it up. Eat it up.

Every once in a while we can’t, for the life of us, decide whether we want a soup or something more “entree”-like. In that event, the best bet is almost always a casserole–something most of us learn to a despise from a young age, but which can actually be awesome. This has broccoli, for supra health powers, white beans, for supra protein powers, and rice, for supra cheapness powers. For how easy this was to make, it was unbelievably delicious.

Broccoli & Rice Bake-em-up

• 2 cups white rice
• 4 cups veggie stock
• 1 – 2 stalks of broccoli, chopped into small florets and/or medium-sized pieces
• 1 cup cooked white beans
• 2 cups unsweetened faux milk
• 1 cup ground cashews
• 1 large white onion, diced
• 6 cloves of garlic, diced or pressed
• 1/2 one-pound block of soft (but not silken) tofu
• salt and pepper, to taste
• saltine crackers (optional, but almost excessively awesome–leave out for gluten-free)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees, Fahrenheit and start the rice cooking in the veggie stock. In a medium-sized frying pan, sautee the onions and garlic over medium heat, until soft. In a blender, puree the beans, faux milk, ground cashews, and tofu. When the onions and garlic are soft, add them to the puree, blend until smooth, then salt and pepper to taste.

Steam the broccoli until it’s tender, but not at all mushy–you’re going to bake this, so it better to err on the side of underdone. This will only take 5 – 10 minutes and should be done around the same time as–if not a little before–the rice. Once the rice is done, stir the rice, broccoli, and puree together in a 13×9 baking pan or casserole dish.

NOTE: we didn’t end up using all of the puree, but you’ll find it’s awkward to have just over a cup of white beans left, and just over half a block of tofu. The moral of the story is: add the puree in stages; just enough to get everything coated really well. Alternatively, you could add another 1/2 cup of rice to make a larger casserole. The power is yours.

Finally, drizzle safflower and/or olive oil on top and pop it in the oven for 30 minutes. If you’ve opted to add the cracker topping–an excellent choice, dear reader–then you’ll want to crumble enough crackers over the top of the casserole to cover it thoroughly then drizzle more oil on top of that. Bake for an additional 10 minutes. If you’ve decided to forgo the cracker topping, you can just bake it for 40 minutes straight.

We had this with a delicious salad, bread, and Tom/John Collinses.

It’s that time of year. Well…for us, it’s always that time of year. You have a bunch of veggies in the fridge on the verge of going bad, so you have to take drastic measures and forge a soup from a dearth of disparate ingredients. Some folks loathe this; we  love it. It’s the free jazz of cooking. Maybe. We don’t really listen to free jazz, but it’s what I imagine free jazz to be.

This soup features the last of lots of fall veggies from both our garden and the farmer’s market: eggplant, butternut squash, potatoes, onions, leeks, garlic, carrots, and green bell peppers. It’s rich and savory–perfect for a warm fall day as much as a cold fall day.

Fall Everything Soup

• 1 medium-sized white onion, diced
• 1 medium-sized green bell pepper, diced
• 2 smallish eggplants, cubed
• 2 medium-sized potatoes, cubed (peel ‘em if they’re brown–we used purple)
• 1 large carrot, peeled and cut into half-disks
• 1 very small purple cabbage or 1/3 of a regular purple cabbage
• 3 large leeks (or a handful of small leeks–this is what we got from the farmer’s market)
• 1 regulation-size butternut squash
• 1 head of garlic
• 10 cups of veggie stock
• 1 handful of fresh chives, diced
• 6 fresh sage leaves (or 1 tbsp dried sage), diced
• 1 tbsp herbs d’provence
• salt and pepper, to taste
• 1 cup of wild rice, cooked in 2 cups of water

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Slice the butternut squash in half lengthwise and place on a lightly oiled cooking sheet. When the oven is done preheating, pop it in the oven and set the timer for 45 minutes. Sautee the onions, peppers, eggplant, carrots, and potatoes in oil in a large pot over medium heat. When the onions are soft, add in the veggie stock and the herbs. When this comes to a boil, cover and reduce heat, simmering.

Bring the rice and 2 cups of water to a boil, cover, reduce heat, and simmer.

Slice off the top of  a head of garlic. Place on a sheet of aluminum foil, douse generously with olive oil, and wrap tightly. After the squash has been cooking for 15 minutes, pop this in the oven with the squash.

When the squash is done, remove from oven and let cool for 10 minutes. Spoon out the seedy part. Spoon the rest into a blender, along with the garlic (you should spoon out each clove with a knife). Add in enough stock to blend easily and blend. Blend it up! When it’s smooth, add it to the soup.

Stir everything well, and add salt and pepper to taste. You’re almost done. You just need the rice. Once it’s done, add it to the soup and cook for an additional 10 -15 minutes.

You’re done! Huzzah!

Serve with a crusty loaf.

Until the last 6 months or so, I’d never had much luck with Thai food. Recently, though, I’ve begun to penetrate into the lurid mind of Thai food.

Red Thai Curry w/Tofu

• 1/2 lb tofu, cubed
• 1 medium-sized white onion, petaled
• 1 green or red bell pepper, cut into large pieces
• 2 medium-sized carrots, peeled cut into 1″ pieces and quartered
• 2 small red or purple potatoes, cubed
• 2 cups (1 can) coconut milk
• 1 tbsp red thai curry paste (we used store-bought this time, but making your own isn’t too difficult)
• 1 tsp chili powder
• 2 tbsp brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp ground cumin
• 1/2 tsp ground coriander
• 1 – 2 tsp lemon grass powder (to taste–this will depend on your curry paste)
• 2 tbsp fresh cilantro, diced
• ~ 1/8 cup cornstarch
• safflower oil
• peanut oil
• salt, to taste

Start by sauteeing the onion and potatoes in safflower (or other high heat) oil over medium heat in a frying pan. Start heating some peanut oil in another frying pan, also over medium heat. Meanwhile, peel and cut the carrots and toss them in with the onions. Similarly, chop the pepper and toss that in.

Press the tofu and cut it into 1/2 – 1″ cubes, whichever is your preference. Toss lightly in corn starch and fry it up in the peanut oil. We generally keep it shallow and flip it, but if you like your entire house/apt/flat to smell like peanut oil for days, you can fry it in 3 feet of oil. Your call.

When the tofu is nice and firm, drain the oil (we keep a jar of oil for frying–you can reuse this a few times) and add in the vegetables. Pour in the coconut milk. Mix in the curry paste and all of the remaining ingredients, except the cilantro–put that in a few minutes before serving. Simmer for 5 – 10 minutes.

Serve over rice.

Usually, we love broccoli in Thai food, but something about a red curry dislikes broccoli. To make this meal a little healthier, we had it with steamed kale, lightly sauteed (you can just toss it, if you prefer) in sesame oil and soy sauce and sprinkled with sesame seeds or gomashio.

It’s like a Yoga Noogie for your taste buds!