Fall

Give me a sweet and salty combo and I’m a happy Farmer. My Autumn Harvest Chicken Salad suits said liking marvelously.

Chicken salad likes and dislikes can be about as individual as eye color, yet that is the appeal of the dish…one can create, add, take away, or combine just about any flavors and textures to make his or her very own chicken salad. Enter this Farmer’s Autumn Harvest Chicken Salad.

It is fall, ya’ll, if my raving autumnal posts haven’t given away that fact already. With a season change, flavor changes are also craved and chicken salad is a dish in which to inject these seasonal cravings. From apples to roasted pecans and walnuts to cranberries and a tangy dressing, this salad is easy, serves plenty of folks, and has just the right amount of tweaks to make it a new favorite. Roasting is the trick for this chicken salad.

Roasting the chicken and the nuts brings about a layer of flavors, a depth of richness that only this cooking technique can bring to the table, literally! I lather the thin chicken cutlets with olive oil, sundried tomatoes and garlic, and then season with cracked salt and pepper. These thin cuts of meat roast quickly at 400 degrees and make the house smell as if you’ve been cooking for days.

Fall has finally arrived in sunny Los Angeles and it’s that slight chill in the air that makes me yearn for warm soups, one pot stews, and hearty pasta dishes. One night a week pasta is on the menu and it was this dish that my eldest son chose for his week night pick. All three of my boys are “required” to pick a meal each week and it is their job to help me prep and cook the entire thing(those that don’t cook are on clean up duty). Eli, being 15, is pretty darn good with the knife and watching him dice the vegetables was a proud moment.

What I love most about this dish is that it has all the elements of a traditional bolognese without the addition of any form of meat. The lentils become the heart of the dish, coupled with spinach for your greens, and Parmesan for your milk, it’s one of those one pot dishes that’s covered all of our four basic food groups. Served with a crusty baguette, a glass of wine (for the adults) and a little something special for dessert, no one walks away from the table hungry or complaining.

Although they’re often a favorite side dish staple, sometimes mashed potatoes need a little inspiration.

Root vegetables make a perfect addition to potatoes, and I particularly like the sweet flavor of carrots in this recipe, but parsnips, rutabagas, turnips, and celery root will work just as well.

Yukon Gold potatoes are a great choice because of their rich, creamy flavor. It’s important to rinse the potatoes well to remove excess starch, which can make the mixture gluey.

Beets are like paint bombs. Deliciously sweet, red, flavored paint bombs, so intensely colored they stain your fingers, bleed into the sink, tint the cutting board, you name it. When cooked, they aren't so much red as deep magenta. When mixed with sour cream they turn paler shades of magenta to pink. The color, like the flavor is either something you love or you hate.

Beets get a bad rap from the low carb police, but they are actually quite healthy, filled with antioxidants, low in calories, they have significant amounts of fiber, folate, manganese and potassium. I know some people find beets too "earthy" tasting, but both Lee and I love 'em. Especially in beet soup.

There are an unbelievable number of recipes for beet soup. It's commonly served all over Eastern Europe. There are versions that are cold, hot, vegetarian, with meat, chunky, smooth, with tons of vegetables, with no other vegetables.

Lately I've been experimenting with "less is more". I've tried stripping down various recipes to the barest of basics to see if I could coax the ingredients to shine through. This is one of those recipes. In my experiment to get to the essence of the beet, I developed a recipe that has little more than beets in it at all. A pinch or two of sugar perks up the flavor and the broth and sour cream add body and richness.