Last night our good friend Blue stopped in for dinner, and brought a giant picnic basket full of fresh zucchini, summer squash, kale, cucumbers, and cherry tomatoes from the local community garden, who he’d been doing some work for (he’s a carpenter/artist). Amy and I had been wracking our brains for something interesting to make and she pointed out that we had a big jar of israeli couscous that we’d yet to try. Putting two and two together…

We used an onion and some garlic as well (of course), and added some black-eyed peas for some protein and to round out the sort of Southern feel the sauteed kale provided. The couscous was really interesting–much more like orzo than standard couscous, like small fluffy noodles. Apparently, it’s also awesome nutritionally.

Garden Israeli Couscous

• 3 small zucchinis, cut into discs or semi-circles
• 2 small summer squashes, cut into discs or semi-circles
• 1 large bunch of kale, de-boned (optional) and chopped coarsely
• 1 medium-sized white or yellow onion, chopped coarsely
• 4 cloves of garlic, diced
• 4 cups (2 cans) of black-eyed peas
• 2 cups israeli couscous
• 3 cups veggie stock (we used our leftover chik’n seitan broth)
• 1 large handful of fresh basil, chopped
• 2 stalks of thyme, de-stemmed
• 1 small handful of fresh oregano
• 1/4 cup nutritional yeast
• olive oil
• salt & pepper, to taste

In a medium-sized saucepan, bring the veggie stock to a boil, then add the couscous. Cover and remove from heat.

In a large skillet, saute the onions and garlic in olive oil over medium heat. After a few minutes, add in the zucchini and squash. When everything is tender, add in the kale and fresh herbs (and probably more oil), stirring well. Add in the black-eyed peas, also stirring well. Stir in the nutritional yeast, then salt and pepper to taste.

Serve over the couscous. Consider Palestinian couscous tomorrow for a two-plate solution.

Most people don’t know this, but spicy vegetable couscous is an indispensable staple of the Norwegian diet.

The reason they don’t know this is that I just made it up.

Our new friends and fellow adventurers, the Norwegian artists Torgeir Husevaag and Catrine Thorstensen adapted this from a meal they often prepare, kindly subbing veggie stock for chicken stock. After a long day inside making art and avoiding the ash cloud (did you know there’s an official weather condition on weather.com, “ash cloud”?), we ventured out briefly to the vinbudin to grab some beer and wine. Shortly after returning, Tor and Catrine started preparing this delicious dinner, over which we hatched the next day’s plans to hit the hot springs (or “hot pot” as everyone seems to like calling it).

These hot springs, in Hveragerdi, aren’t to be confused with the now Disneyfied Blue Lagoon (I’ve not been, but I have it on reliable authority that it’s a total tourist trap)–these are the real deal. You hike in a small, beautiful mountain range for around 2 hours to get to get to the point where a geothermally heated spring meets a cold spring, producing bath-water like conditions–naturally! Along the way, we encountered various small lagoons of boiling water and mud–volcanic heating produces very hot water–as well as geysers of steam.  Amy posted about the experience on her blog, if you’re interested in seeing photos.

But I digress. We were talking about delicious couscous. So without further ado, I give you:

Couscous Somi Oslo

• 1 onion, diced
• 1 red bell pepper, cut into medium-length strips
• 2 carrots, peeled and cut into disks
• 1 zucchini, cut into half-disks
• 2 tomatoes, diced (or 1 can)
• 2 cups of chick peas (or 1 can)
• 2 red chili (or fresno/serrano) peppers, seeded and minced
• 4 – 6 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 – 2 tsp ground cumin
• 6 – 8 cups veggie broth
• a dash of cinnamon (to taste)
• salt & pepper, to taste
• 2 – 3 cups dry couscous (cooked in 4 -6 cups of water)

Like our vegetable soup, this looked pretty straightforward. Saute the veggies in oil in a large pot over medium heat until they’re tender, then in add in the tomatoes, veggie broth, chick peas, and spices. Bring to boil and then let simmer. Meanwhile prepare 2 -3 cups of dry couscous in 4 -6 cups of water (bring the water to boil, add the couscous, reduce heat and cover, cooking until the couscous is soft and the water is soaked up). Serve the veggies over the couscous. This is excellent nourishment for a long day of hiking and thermal bathing!

Up next: Julie and Nina make a fabulous Volcanic Eggplant Quinoa!

Since we’ve used up all of our canned sauce from last year–and for a change of pace–we’ve been making a lot of white sauces lately. This is a variation of our standard lasagna, taking a page from the al-faux-do book.

White Lasagna

The Essentials

• white sauce
• 12 large lasagna noodles
• faux-ricotta
• 2 medium-sized tomatoes, sliced thinly
• 1 zucchini, sliced thinly
• 6 – 8 crimini mushrooms, sliced thinly (optional)
• vegan parmesan (optional)

White Sauce

• 1 medium-sized yellow or white onion, chopped
• 6 cloves of garlic, diced
• 1/4 cup Earth Balance ™
• ~1/4 cup flour
• 1 tsp ground mustard seed
• 1 cup soy milk
• salt & pepper, to taste

Faux Ricotta

• 2 cups spinach OR lightly steamed kale
• 1 lb/package extra firm tofu
• 2 tbsp nu yeast
• 1.5 tsp oregano (2 large sprigs fresh)
• 1/2 tsp garlic powder OR 2 – 4 cloves fresh garlic, pressed
• fresh basil, to taste
• 1/2 tsp rosemary (chopped if fresh, crushed if dry)
• 1/8 tsp cayenne
• salt, to taste

White Sauce

Sautee the onion and garlic in olive oil in a large pan over medium heat until they are soft and just starting to brown, then remove from heat. In a small pot, melt the Earth Balance ™ over medium heat. Once it’s melted, whisk in the flour a little at a time, until you have a thick roux. Add the onions and garlic to the blender, then pour in the soymilk. Add in the roux and ground mustard seed and blend until smooth. Salt and pepper to taste.

Faux Ricotta

Blend the tofu and spinach/kale in a food processor, until well-mixed and somewhat smooth. Add in the remaining filling ingredients and blend until smooth, salting to taste. You can use this filling in any Italian-ish recipe that calls for ricotta.

Mushrooms (optional)

Sautee the mushrooms in olive oil–in the pan you used for the onions and garlic–over medium heat until the mushrooms are tender. That’s it.

Lasagna

Since the white sauce is much creamier than standard tomato sauce, I’m afraid you’re going to have to suck it up and boil some noodles. But just until they’re al dente.

Meanwhile, preheat oven to 375. In a 9 x 12 pan, spread enough white sauce to thoroughly cover the bottom of the pan. Add in a layer of noodles. Then add a layer of zucchini, then one of tomatoes.

Add another layer of noodles. Spread a layer of half the faux ricotta on top of the noodles. If you’re using them, spread a layer of mushrooms over the filling.

Cover with another layer of noodles. Now spread the rest of the faux ricotta on top of them. Now put one more layer of noodles down.

Add one final layer of tomatoes then cover thoroughly with the remaining sauce.

Cover the pan with foil and bake for 30 minutes. Remove the foil, top with vegan parmesan cheese (if using) and bake for another 30 minutes. Let it cool for about 15 minutes before cutting and/or serving. Use your will power. I know you can do it. Eat!

Remember the days before awesome vegan cheese? When you were mocked at every turn by faux-ass non-vegan soy cheese? Or the days of terrible vegan cheese perhaps? After myriad pizza disasters, Amy and I discovered that just leaving out the cheese could be awesome–especially if you leave out the processed sauce and use fresh tomatoes.

This li’l guy has way more in common with the thin, fresh Italian-style Pizza Marinara than with traditional American pizza (except Pizza Marinara usually has–not surprisingly–sauce). This is a really nice break from standard pizza–it totally scratches the pizza itch, but is much lighter and fresher, without any processed ingredients.

We used:

• 3 tomatoes, de-boogered and sliced thinly
• 4 cloves of diced garlic
• 1/2 a zucchini, sliced into thin half-moons
• a handful of crimini mushrooms, sliced thinly
• a handful of spinach, diced
• a small handful of fresh basil, diced
• 1/8 – 1/4 purple onion, sliced thinly and chopped
• oregano
• thyme
• salt & pepper
• pizza crust of choice

So that last one is a bit of a cop out. We would love to know your pizza crust of choice, as we’ve had mixed luck with lots of crusts and have yet to settle on one we really love. While the one we used for this recipe turned out pretty tasty with a lot of doctoring, it was so far off the mark in its original form that I’d be hard pressed to tell you how to replicate it (add way more flour, for one). Now is the time to give back: share your favorite crust recipes!

Meanwhile, salivate:

Amy decreed yesterday that today would be Raw Food Tuesday (stolen shamelessly from What the Hell Does a Vegan Eat Anyway), which probably means that we shouldn’t have had that Chik’n Club Sammich for lunch…we did, however blaze a new trail in raw food dinners. Well, a new trail for us: rawsage & pesto-laden zucchini-based pasta with mushrooms.

Eating raw is something you hear about or read about and know that it has to be awesome, that you’d feel like a new person if could get over your need for hot things; if you didn’t love cooking; if bread weren’t so tasty. You even know that you don’t have to always eat raw, just that now and again it’d probably be really good for you. But when it comes time to dig in, you give in to the temptation of cooking. Well, if you’re anything like us you do.

Not that we’ve never eaten raw–just had a big ol’ salad for dinner or gone to a raw restaurant–we just don’t tend to “cook” raw.

This recipe is from The Complete Book of Raw Food, a book we’ve owned for years and scarcely cracked open. The results from our first foray were largely good, with a few minor caveats. The rawsage, while delicious, was pretty much just a zesty pesto. It wasn’t at all solid and tasted closer to pesto than to sausage. The zucchini turned out pretty tasty, and worked fairly well just using a grater. It probably would have been fluffier–and thus more enjoyable–if we had one of those spiral-y duders. I halved both recipes (since they were supposed to serve 4) and was surprised at how little there was. I thought we’d be scavenging for more food within minutes of completing the meal, but it was astonishingly filling. One small plateful and we were both very satisfied. In general, I hear that raw food is more filling (since none of the nutrients have been cooked out), so you typically don’t need to eat as much of it.

We made a few modifications, so check it:

Pesto Pasta & Rawsage

Rawsage (aka Zesty Pesto…errr…Zesto!)

• 3/4 cup raw, shelled pumpkin seeds
• small handful of fresh basil
• 1/4 head of lettuce
• 2 – 3 cloves of garlic
• 1/4 cup onion powder
• 1/4 cup olive oil (less if you’re going for something more solid)
• 1.5 tsp dried sage
• 1/2 tsp fennel or caraway seed
• 1/2 tsp salt (optional)

Grind everything together in a food processor. Try it without the olive oil if you want to get these into proper patties. Just add it little by little to get the desired consistency. For this recipe, you’ll use half of it in the pasta; so if you’re going for patties, start with no olive oil and use half of ground mix to make patties. Then add 1/8 cup of olive oil and grind some more for the pesto part.

Raw Pesto Pasta

• 1 medium-sized zucchini, spiraled or grated
• ~ 6 small-medium-sized mushrooms, sliced very thinly (optional)
• sun-dried tomatoes, soaked until soft and sliced (optional; we didn’t use these this time)
• 2 large handfuls of spinach
• Zesto! from above, or perhaps a few frozen pesto cubes
• olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and/or pepper to dress

In a medium-large-ish bowl, mix the zucchini, mushrooms, and Zesto!/pesto. When the zucchini-noodles are nicely coated, toss a handful of spinach into a plate, bowl, or, ideally, bowlplate. Spread the pesto pasta over the spinach. Garnish with sun-dried tomato strips, rawsage patties, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and/or pepper. Be forewarned: this is really filling!

If you’re like us, you often feel nostalgic for things that maybe aren’t that awesome. But there’s a context, a larger experience that imbues them with something better, gives them a prominent place in our happy memories. The Olive Garden is one of those for us. For both of our families, it was one of the “going out to eat someplace ‘fancy’” defaults. When we (independently of each other) became vegetarian, it became an even better option, since there were still many things on the menu we could eat. Once we became vegan, though, things got a little dicier. Depending on who you ask, the minestrone, breadsticks, capellini pomodoro, and salad are or aren’t vegan. The pasta may or may not have eggs. The marinara may or may not have meat broth. The salad dressing definitely has cheese in it–there are no vegan dressings.

Since (a) we’ve never been able to get a straight answer and (b) we now live in an area with other family-suitable options (namely, Chinese), we don’t eat at the Olive Garden any more. But every once in a while, we get the hankering for the enveloping warmth of minestrone and hot fresh breadsticks–and a big ol’ vegan salad. So last night, we created some real “hospitaliano”–vegan style.

The minestrone was only slightly modified from this excellent recipe.

Olive Garden-style Minestrone

• 1 medium-sized white onion, diced
• 4 – 6 cloves of garlic, minced or pressed
• 1 stalk of celery, diced finely
• 1/2 medium-sized zucchini, cut into small one-inch pieces or half-moons
• 1 small carrot (or half of a large carrot), grated
• a large handful of Italian/Spanish-style green beans (the flat ones–you can sub normal green beans in a pinch), cut into one-inch pieces
• 4 large stalks of kale (the curly kind), cut from the stalk and chopped coarsely
• 4 cups (2 cans) of cooked kidney beans
• 2 cups (1 can) cooked cannellini beans or white beans
• 4 cups (1 large can or 1 large jar) cooked tomatoes, with their juice
• 4 cups veggie broth
• 3 cups water
• 1/2 cup small shell pasta
• 2 tbsp fresh parsley, minced
• 1.5 tsp dried oregano (1.5 tbsp fresh, minced)
• 1/2 tsp dried basil (1.5 tsp fresh, minced)
• 1/4 tsp dried thyme (1 tsp  fresh, minced)
• salt & pepper, to taste
• 1/4 – 1/2 cup red wine (optional)

As you’d expect, saute the onion, garlic, and celery in a large pot over medium heat–in the oil of your choice (I recommend choosing safflower). When the onion has gotten soft, add in the broth, water, tomatoes, carrots, and herbs/spices. Bring it to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 20 minutes. In a separate pot, cook the shells. When they’re done–but al dente–remove from heat, strain, and blanch with cold water. This will help prevent them from getting as bloated and mushy in the soup. A lazier person may decided to add the shells directly to the soup. But you wouldn’t do that. This is hospitaliano.

Once the 20 minutes is up, add in the remaining ingredients and cook until the zucchini and green beans are tender. It’s this crucial step that allows you to trump the Olive Garden–you can add veggies in at the end, ensuring their crispness, a paean to non-flaccid vegetables.

Now let’s trump their bread.

We used this recipe, unmodified, but reposted here for your convenience.

Breadsticks

• 1 1/3 cups of water
• 4 tsp melted Earth Balance ™
• 4 cups of flour
• 2 tbsp sugar
• 2 tsp salt
• 2 tsp yeast
• additional melted Earth Balance ™, for brushing on top
• additional salt, for sprinkling on top
• granulated garlic, for sprinkling on top

Combine all of the dry ingredients, minus 1 cup of flour, ideally in a mixer, using the bread hook attachment.

(We like to keep a giant thing of flour on hand so we can make bread any time we want.)

If you don’t have a mixer, you can theoretically mix by hand and then knead (we just got one for christmas and this was it’s maiden voyage–it was awesome). Combine the wet ingredients in a separate bowl/cup and then add slowly to the dry, while mixing. Now add in the remaining flour. Once the dough is mixed well (about 2 minutes in the mixer), roll out in to 16 long pieces. (We made about 12 and they were slightly fatter than the Olive Garden’s, but still awesome.)  Cover them and let them rise for at least 45 minutes. Preheat oven to 400 degrees, Fahrenheit. Brush the bread with Earth Balance ™ and sprinkle salt on top.  Bake for 15 minutes. When you take them out, brush with Earth Balance ™ again and then sprinkle with granulated garlic.

And finally, the salad.

The salad, to be faithful to the OG original, should have lettuce (obviously), croutons, purple onion, roma tomatoes, black olives, peppers, and shredded carrots. We didn’t have any fresh tomatoes or black olives (which I don’t like) on hand, so we had to make due with some sliced zucchini instead. We made the croutons fresh, from a piece of bread cut into squares, lightly doused on olive oil, salt/pepper/garlic-ed, and toasted. The original salad should also have some sort of cheesy mayonnaise vinaigrette dressing, which we didn’t deign to copy. Instead, we made this vinaigrette, slightly modified.

Italian Vinaigrette Dressing

• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 1/2 cup wine vinegar
• 1 tbsp Dijon mustard
• 1/2 tsp fresh dill
• 1/4 tsp dried oregano
• 1/4 tsp dried thyme
• 1/4 tsp dried basil
• 2 tbsp lemon juice
• 1 tbsp agave nectar
• pepper to taste

Combine ingredients in a cruet and shake well.

When you’re vegan, you’re family!

The first step to failure is making up the name for something that already has a name, probably. If I weren’t too lazy, I’d know what the name for an Indian curry made from chick peas and zucchini is called. But instead, I just used the words for each: chana and toree. Hey, it works for Aloo Gobi, right?

Actually, this wasn’t a failure, per se, but it wasn’t as savory as lots of other curries I’ve made. The zucchini made it kind of “watery” tasting. It did, however, make it a very attractive dish. So if you’re in the mood for a really mellow curry, this could be just the guy for you. But I wasn’t, so it wasn’t. Thus, it was not a success.

Allow me to impart a nugget of wisdom wrested from the gaping maw of failure: It’s okay to give some of your zucchini away. Now, I’m not admitting defeat; I’m not saying that a sufficiently crafty person couldn’t make an average of 2.75 zucchini-based meals per week. But from a utilitarian perspective, you would maximize overall happiness by giving some of your zucchini away and focusing on making meals with zucchini that you really like, not just adding zucchini to every recipe you know, willy-nilly.

And anyway, it’s not like we’re talking about kale here. Adding zucchini to everything doesn’t really confer any great health advantage.

But.

The pretty picture above has piqued your interest nonetheless. So here you go:

Chana Toree

• 1 large zucchini or 1/2 of a REALLY large zucchini, diced*
• 2 cups cooked chick peas, rinsed and drained
• 2 large tomatoes, diced finely
• 1 large onion, diced
• 2 large cloves of garlic, minced
• 1.5 tbsp curry powder
• 2 tsp ground cumin
• 1 tsp coriander
• 1 tsp chili powder
• 1 cup veggie stock
• salt, to taste

In a large-ish pot over medium heat, sautee the onions and garlic in oil until they are soft and starting to brown. Toss in the zucchini, mixing well. Add in all of the spices, taking care to coat everything. Cook for about 5 minutes, then add in the tomatoes, chick peas, and veggie stock. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and let simmer for about 2 hours. Serve over rice, couscous, or quinoa.

* Cut the zucchini into about 2″ lengths. Cut those in half lengthwise, then cut the halves in half, then again. In other, simpler, words, cut the slices into eighths lengthwise. Now cut those slices widthwise into about 1/8 – 1/4″ little triangles. While this does nothing for the actual taste of the dish, it does look attractive, which in turn may trick folks into thinking it’s more delicious than it actually is. Presentation is often a subterfuge.

We made this with homemade naan, which was awesome.

Here is how it looks in a blue pot, which also lends to the transference of attractiveness to deliciousness:

Complementary colors are also a culinary subterfuge

This recipe used to involve eggplant.

Eggplant does not GROW LIKE CRAZY.

Zucchini and summer squash GROW LIKE CRAZY.

__________________________________

This recipe involves zucchini and summer squash.

And tomatoes (it always involved tomatoes, which GROW LIKE CRAZY).

And potatoes (not the marble-sized guys from our garden…but they needed to get used up…you don’t want to make Ralph Nader cry do you?)

Squashed & Mashed Bake ‘Em Up

• 6 medium russet potatoes, peeled and cut into large pieces
• 3 medium tomatoes
• 1 large zucchini
• 1 large summer squash
• olive oil
• 3 tbsp buttery substance
• 1/8 – 1/4 cup milky substance
• 1/2 cup bread crumbs
• 1/4 cup nu yeast
• 2 tsp herbs d’provence
• 1 tsp oregano
• 1 tsp garlic
• half a palmful of rosemary
• salt and pepper to taste

This recipe is pretty simple. You start of by making smashed potatoes:

In a large-ish pot, boil the potatoes until they’re soft. In a large-ish bowl, add the milk and butter, garlic, rosemary, and some salt and pepper. Mash it! Mash it up. You want these pretty thick and fluffy, so don’t overdo it on the milk. I’m serious.

At some point in this process, you should preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Now. Cut the ends of the zucchini and squash. Cut the zucchini into 4 pieces, width-wise. Cut each of these length-wise, so you have wide, thin pieces. Cut the neck off the squash and do the same thing. Cut the big part in half. With a spoon or small skull, dig the seedy guts, if there are any, out of the squash. Now cut each half into thin slices, length-wise. Excellent. You’re almost done.

Spread a bit of olive oil on the bottom of a 14 x 9 baking pan. Spread a layer of squash–enough to cover the bottom of the pan, but not too thick. Drizzle a bit more olive oil on top of the squash, then sprinkle salt, pepper, and half of the herbs d’provence on top. Now spread a layer of zucchini. Drizzle more olive oil and sprinkle on the nu yeast. Fantastic! You’re doing great. One more layer of squash and/or zucchini, whatever is left (this will depend on the size of each). Top with salt, pepper, and remaining herbs d’provence.

Now. Spread the smashed potatoes on top of the squashes.

Cut the tomatoes into thin slices. Remove the tomato-boogers as you go. Spread these (tomatoes, not boogers–unless you normally eat the boogers and throw away the tomatoes) in a layer on top of the potatoes. Sprinkle oregano on top of this. You’re so close, I can taste it. Sprinkle on some bread crumbs, drizzle on some more olive oil, cover with aluminum foil, and pop this beyotch in the oven. After 10 minutes, remove the foil. Bake for an additional 20 minutes. Poke the zucchini with a fork–if it feels tender, you’re all done. If it’s still a bit tough, your oven is a wuss and you need to keep baking for an additional 5 to 10 minutes.

Outstanding!

So. You decided to grow zucchini. Good choice.

But now what the hell are you gonna do with all that zucchini?

This problem will plague you all the way through fall, like a heard of vengeful yeti.

But fear not, dear readers! This is one of many zucchini recipes. You can search for more (trust me, you’ll need more) by clicking on “zucchini” in the tag cloud or going to http://irreverentvegan.com/tag/zucchini/.

Like many of my zucchini recipes, this one was:

1. totally improvised based on what I had on hand (and is this seasonal)
2. will help you use up vast quantities of zucchini
3. involves any number of jokes about pornographs/pornstars/etc

This is a nice summer or fall soup, creamy but light, with that subtle zing of roasted garlic and fresh tomato. The beans, corn, and additional zucchini are all optional, but add something to chew on–essentially moving this from the appetizer soup to meal soup category. Yeti like to chew on things with their massive herbivorous teeth, and this prefer this soup with chewables. And when you’ve got a plague of yeti…best to make them happy.

Summer Zucchini Soup

Necessary

• 1 large (beyond your wildest porno dreams) or 2 medium zucchini, chopped
• 1 large tomato chopped
• 1 large carrot, peeled and chopped
• 2 stalks of celery, chopped
• 1 head of garlic
• 1 tbsp herbs d’provence
• salt & pepper, to taste

Optional

• 1 ear (or 1/2 – 1 cup) corn
• 2 cups of green beans, chopped into bite-size pieces
• 1 cup of cooked (or from a can) white beans
• 1 additional small zucchini

First things first. Let’s get our garlic on. Man. I really hate “get our X on” expressions. So let’s not “get out garlic on”. Let’s roast it, like normal people. So. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. If you have a Toast-R-Oven ™, that’s ideal. It’s smaller, thus taking less time to heat up and using less energy. Let’s help keep Ralph Nader’s eyes dry. Chop just the tips of the garlic off, exposing the little holes. Put the head of garlic on a sheet of aluminum foil big enough to wrap around it. Now, pour just enough olive oil to fill all the holes and gaps in the garlic. Wrap er up and bake for 30 – 40 minutes, until the garlic is soft.

Meanwhile: sautee the onion in high heat cooking oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add in the celery, then the carrots. Once the soup-base triumvirate begins to soften, add in the (necessary) zucchini. Then, add in the tomato. None of this has to be chopped too fine, as you’re just going to blend it later.

Add in the herbs d’provence and salt and pepper.

Once the zuchinni begins to soften, add in the veggie stock. Let this simmer for 10 – 15 minutes, until the garlic is done.  Once the garlic is done, add it to the mix by spooning out each clove with a knife. I guess that would be “knifing it out”.

Now you’re ready to blend! blend! blend! With your immersion blender or boring regular blender, blend the soup to an even creamy consistency.

If you’re adding yeti-chewables, not would be the time. Leave the heat on medium, cover and let cook about 5 more minutes until reducing heat.

If not, you can reduce the heat to low right off. You’ll want to eat this asap, i.e. before you’re mangled by yeti. Yeti don’t hang with appetizers.

Add water to get desired consistency. Yeti like it thick.

You: loves chili, has a surplus of butternut squash from this year’s garden

This recipe: loves being eaten, smelled, is chili, contains butternut squash

Is it love?

Fall Harvest Chili

• 1 large butternut squash
• 1 large yellow onion, diced
• 6 tomatoes, blanched, peeled, gutted, and diced finely
• 1 – 2 green chilis (any variety–YOU pick the heat…it’s like a Choose Your Own Adventure for your mouth!), seeded and diced (optional)
• 2 small – medium carrots, peeled and cut into half disks (go to page 12) or diced (go to page 38)
• 1 stalk celery, diced
• 1 zucchini or summer squash, cubed (optional)
• 1 can (cups cooked, I think) Great Northern white beans
• 1 can canellini (white kidney) beans
• 1 can garbanzo beans
• 1 tbsp cumin seeds, lightly toasted then ground
• 1/4 cup chili powder
• 2 tsp paprika
• 2 tsp dried or 1 heaping tbsp fresh oregano
• salt & pepper to taste
• water
• oil

Cut the butternut squash in half and cook facedown in oil on a cookie sheet or bread pans at 400 degrees for 35 – 45 minutes. Cook it for slightly less time than you normal would, as you don’t want it all mushy, just some parts. There should be some pieces that a person with teeth could chew. Once you’ve put this menace in the oven, sautee the onion in oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add in the celery, then the carrots, then the chilis (if used). Add in the zucchini/summer squash now (if using).

In another pot, take care of all the tomato blanching nonsense (unless your were awesome enough to can, in which case you’re already done). Once the onions are starting to brown, add in all of the spices and mix well. Add in the tomatoes when they’re ready. Add in the beans after that. [If you're using canned beans, include the water from the two white beans; if you've cooked the beans yourself, use about 1/2 cup water from each white bean if you still have it.] Stir well, add some salt and let simmer.

When the squash is done, prepare yourself psychologically for the hassle of wrestling this beast out of its skin. Better, if someone is around who expects to eat this and isn’t helping, make them do it. They will invariably do a poor job. But screw it. Seriously. You can now blame every problem the chili has on this hapless helper.

So, once the squash is out of its skin, add in all of the mushy parts. Cut the remaining squash into chunks, the size of which you find enjoyable to chew, particularly in conjunction with other items on your spoon. This will vary by both mouth and spoon size. If you are feeding other people, remember that you can control for spoon size, but not for mouth size. Optionally, you may select a more optimal group of friends based on oral aperture.

Let the chili simmer for a spell before eating.