Fall

Not every day is a winner in a food writer’s test kitchen. In fact, yesterday was kind of a stinker, if I’m really to be honest. I made some stuffed winter squash which was just—not good. I’ll spare you the details about the stuffing, but I have to tell you, the most frustrating thing was this: The squash were under-ripe. And so, as beautiful as they were raw, the squash were fibrous and bland when cooked. I know—I’m really making you salivate, now, huh?

I more or less suspected this was the case when I picked the squash before  I had solved this dilemma of “how do you tell when winter squash is ripe?” I know, I am supposed to be a vegetable expert. So I should definitely be hanged (or maybe something less dramatic) for continuing to cook the squash once I cut it open and started digging the seeds out of the hard, pale flesh.

I knew for sure then that the squash (especially the Delicatas) were under-ripe. (You’ve probably had this experience with a slightly green butternut squash you’ve bought at the market.) The thing is, in the gardening department, I’m still a neophyte, and try as I might, I haven’t been able to get a straight answer from other gardeners on how to tell when my stripey Carnival and Delicata squash are ripe.

I’ve been told to wait for the stems to wither and dry up on the vine (uh-oh, I am not that patient),  and I’ve been told to look for a good spot of orange color on the underside. But I am beginning to suspect that it is, in fact, a color issue.

It dawned on me today - that if carrots were money, we'd be rich. Three long rows of yellow carrots that are nearly ready to burst out of the ground, wait just outside my kitchen window - and while I've been patient with these seeds-turned - gems, they now rest so patiently for me to make something with them.

I gathered the first large bundle of carrots last night, alongside my new favorite pals (three baby rabbits). While I rinsed them of the dark earthy soil, I began to plan a meal in my head. Roasting them came to mind...then quickly I second guessed myself.

"Is that special enough for these carrots? There must be something more I can do with these precious carrots. After all, this will be the kickoff recipe to our abundant harvest!"

Oft unknown and underutilized, celeriac or celery root is a vegetable with white flesh and knobby light-brown skin. Its texture is not far from parsnips. Its flavor is like celery: fresh, bright, and almost citrusy. In fact they are related. The celery root grows green stems and leaves above the soil surface that look much like celery and can be used just like celery. The greens have a more pronounced celery flavor but the stems are woody and hollow like bamboo. The herb lovage, another celery cousin, is like this too. The stems can be used as straws in mixed drinks like the Bloody Mary or my take on the Tom Collins.

One of the most common recipes for celeriac, especially in French cuisine is céleri rémoulade, which is a slaw of mandolined or julienned celeriac dressed in rémoulade, a mayonnaise-type sauce. You will also find celeriac prepared as creamy soups or puréed side dishes that resemble mashed potatoes. Though I love céleri rémoulade, since it is now fall, I chose to prepare a classic rendition of cream of celeriac soup. The accompanying recipe for herbed crostini makes a nice complement. Serve the soup as a start to an elegant holiday dinner. The celery flavor awakens the palate in preparation for more food to come.

Pumpkins are as much a part of fall as apples, cider, turning leaves, and chilly weather. The months of October and November call out for pumpkins—just think Jack-o'-lanterns and pumpkin pie! Like their brethren squash, pumpkins work well in countless recipes—and not just sweet desserts but savory dishes too.

Soup is one of my favorite ways to enjoy pumpkin. I make it every October. When I cook pumpkin soup, it officially feels like fall. Flavored with a little nutmeg for warmth and then garnished with pumpkin seeds, it's perfectly comforting. (Don't throw away the pumpkin's seeds, use them in this soup.) A hot bowl of soup always warms me right up.

I start this recipe by roasting the pumpkin. But with the shortage in pumpkins, you could also substitute butternut squash or acorn squash. The base of the soup is a vegetable stock, making it vegetarian-friendly. I like to use my own homemade stock because I can flavor it the way I want.