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Butternut butternut butternut.
It’s a funny word, isn’t it? If I wasn’t such a mature and refined person, I would even giggle at it’s rather naughty components. However, I am a lady, and ladies don’t behave in such an infantile manner. (Tee hee hee hee hee. Okay, I feel better now).
So back to the, eh hem, butternut. As squashes go, you just can’t get any better than the butternut. It’s rich, creamy, and tastes as naughty as it sounds. Cubed and roasted with a bit of olive oil, salt, and pepper, it makes a wicked side to a roast or chicken dish, julienned and baked, it makes for a sweeter (and more nutritionally sound) replacement for your standard french fry. It’s marvelous in soups and stews, a lovely addition to baked goods, and can even be utilized at breakfast time if baked, pureed, and mixed into your morning oats with a bit of brown sugar and cinnamon.
Last night, I was craving a hearty pasta minus the hearty calorie count inevitable in your standard cream sauce. And so I turned to the lovely butternut squash I picked up at Trader Joe’s for just a couple of bucks last week. I raided my pantry and fridge, and decided that a handful of spices, salty cheese, and some toasted pine nuts were all I needed to create a simple, tasty, and budget-friendly fall dish. Top to bottom, the whole thing took me less than an hour to prepare, and most of that time was spent sitting around, perusing a magazine and watching a Gilmore Girls re-run while my lovely butternut (hee hee) was roasting in the oven. Now that’s what I call a superstar squash. So, what are you waiting for? Get your butternut in the kitchen and get cooking!
Butter Parm Pine Fettucine
Serves 4.
1 butternut squash
1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/4 cup raw pine nuts
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. all spice
1/2 cup light soy milk (I used Silk)
1/2 cup water
8 ounces whole grain fettucine noodles (8 ounces)
1/2 cup shaved parmigiano reggiano cheese
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cut butternut squash in half lengthwise. Remove seeds and string with a spoon and discard. Drizzle inside of butternut squash halves with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place squash halves face-down on a cookie sheet and bake for approximately 35 minutes, or until outside skin is lightly browned and inside flesh is soft. While squash is cooking, warm a small pan on the stove over medium heat. Place pine nuts in pan and toast until nuts are lightly browned. Remove nuts from heat and set aside. When squash is ready, remove from oven and allow to cool slightly before handling. Scoop inside flesh from squash and place in a food processor. Add spices and puree for 1 minute, or until smooth. Stream milk and water through nozzle attachment, using stir setting until well combined. Transfer mixture to a medium pot and place on stovetop at medium-low heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Cover pot as mixture will bubble. Stir often. While sauce is heating, cook noodles according to package instructions. Drain and plate noodles. Top with 1/2 cup heated butternut squash sauce, 1/8 cup cheese, and 1 tbsp. pine nuts. Enjoy.
Butternut! 
(Try saying that title five times fast.)
When my sister, brother, and I were kids, we were obsessed with a children’s cookbook filled with recipes fit for the budding food phenom. One recipe in particular struck our fancy, and we begged our mom to let us make it time and time again. It was a recipe for a simple bread pudding. Nothing fancy, just bread, milk, eggs, sugar, and cinnamon. I should note that the bread pudding itself was not anything to write (or blog) home about. It was plain, a bit bland, and really really mushy. Without the presence of heavy whipping cream and with the nonfat milk we used (my parents always bought skim), it was less pudding and more a lumpy, sweet soup. A dessert stew, if you will. But the recipe was incredibly easy to make and we always had the ingredients on-hand, so John, Carley, and I turned to it time and time again, particularly on rainy afternoons when there was nothing better to do than make bread stew in the toaster oven. One day, we were adventurous enough to whip up a bunch of batches of the stuff and attempt to sell it from a makeshift stand in our driveway. Our only paying customer was a cleaning product salesman who, in hindsight, was obviously attempting to win my mom’s affections and make a sale of his own (but my mom is more frugal than he was charming).
Needless to say, as I reached adulthood, bread pudding for me had all the appeal of a wet sponge. Memories of our kid’s cookbook bread pudding haunted me whenever I saw the dish on a restaurant menu or spied a piece of the stuff in a bakery window. Even though the bread pudding I came across as an adult exhibited little to no resemblance to the bread stew of my younger years, I routinely turned it down in favor of more reliable sweet treats like cookies, cake, and brownies.
But a few years ago, I decided to give the poor bread pudding another try. I found a recipe online and went to town with a half loaf of French bread left over from a pasta dinner the night before. Never before had crusty, day-old bread tasted so delicious. The gentle melding of bread, spices, cream, sugar, and eggs was a quiet, melodious quintet in my mouth, and my tastebuds sang in joyful harmony. Was this what I had been missing all of those years, spooked by my childhood memories of bread pudding as a runny, tasteless kind of sludge? Darn that kid’s cookbook! This stuff was amazing!
Last week, I was brainstorming pumpkin-centric baking ideas (yes, I’m mildly completely obsessed with pumpkin), and thought, hey, why not create a lightened-up pumpkin bread pudding? And then the stroke of genius. Why not add a generous handful of creamy peanut butter chips to the mix? What I ended up with was nothing short of the perfect October treat: a pumpkin peanut butter bread pudding, thick and teeming with wonderful fall flavors, including maple, vanilla, and clove. Topped with a cloud of whipped cream and dusted with a shaking of cinnamon, it’s a far cry from my early attempts at the traditional dish.
My husband giggled rather wickedly as he took his first bite, giddy at the discovery that day-old bread could taste this rich and, well, naughty. And if that doesn’t pique your interest, I don’t know what will.
Pumkin’ PB Bread Puddin’
cooking spray
5 cups day-old French bread, cubed
6 tbsp. unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups light vanilla soy milk (I used Silk brand)
1/4 cup heavy whipping cream
3/4 cup pumpkin puree
1/4 cup agave (or 1/2 cup sugar)
1 tbsp. pure maple syrup
2 eggs
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pumpkin pie spice
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1/4 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1/3 cup peanut butter chips
whipped cream and cinnamon to taste (for garnish)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease an 8 x 8 baking pan lightly with cooking spray. Heat butter in the microwave for approximately 30 seconds or until melted. Place cubed bread in large mixing bowl and pour melted butter over bread. Toss until bread is lightly coated with butter. In a small bowl, add next ten ingredients (through vanilla) and whisk until combined. Pour wet mixture over bread and fold gently until bread is coated. Add peanut butter chips and fold to incorporate. Place mixture in prepared pan and bake for approximately 30 minutes or until pudding is set. Allow to cool for 15-20 minutes before cutting. Plate and top with a dollop of whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon, if desired.
Eat, giggle, enjoy.
Once upon a time, in a land far far away (okay, maybe not so far, but let’s pretend, shall we?), there lived a sweet princess enamored with all things sugared. One lovely autumn afternoon, the princess sat in her tiny condo vast castle, listening to the melodious sounds of her neighbor’s cats attacking each other the birds chirping and the soft, gentle gurgling of a nearby broken water main babbling brook, and was struck with the sudden urge to bake a tasty treat in homage to this most perfect of fall days.
The princess braved the long and dangerous journey to her kitchen pantry all alone (her brave steed was in the shop), and searched its frighteningly disorganized interior for culinary inspiration. First, she stumbled upon a box of old graham crackers. She took a bite and declared, “These are much too stale!” Next, she came across a can of condensed milk. She opened it, sniffed its contents and declared, “This is much too old!” Disheartened, she searched deeper and happened upon a container of Medjool dates. Inspecting a single date, she found its aroma sweet and rich and its luscious exterior—deep brown in hue—shiny, and beckoning. It was beautiful. The princess was smitten.
She leaned in to kiss the ruggedly handsome Medjool, certain that he would magically transform into a dashing, young prince like that frog her sister was always bragging about . . .
But, alas, like most first dates, this one was going nowhere.
“Well, that’s not fair!” the princess protested. “My sis turned that clammy amphibian of hers into an amorous spouse! Sure, he has that annoying tongue-flicking habbit, but he’s also the long-jump champion of the kingdom! Why am I so cursed?” The princess sat down and cried, sulking for some time, as princesses tend to do.
Suddenly, the princess’ fairy godmother appeared, bearing a striking resemblance to renowned cookbook author, food blogger, and photographer, Heidi Swanson. “Dear princess,” the fairy godmother soothed, “don’t be so befuddled. That date is not meant to be your spouse. He’s meant to be your snack!”
The fairy godmother summoned a recipe from thin air and handed it to the spurned princess. The princess looked at it and smiled. “Oh, thank you, Fairy Godmother!” the princess gushed, making quick haste to the kitchen to assemble her snack. As she set her date on the chopping block, cutting it quickly to the heart (with an admirable skill inherited from her wicked stepmother), she thanked her lucky stars for her fairy godmother and this most tempting of sweet treats.
The moral of this enchanted story? A date in the pan is worth five frogs in the bush. Or something like that.
Fairytale Date Bars
Inspired by Heidi Swanson’s Big Sur Power Bars
Makes 16 squares or bars
1 tbsp. canola oil
1 cup pecans, halved
1 cup raw almonds
2/3 cup unsweetened coconut flakes
1 1/4 cups oats
1 1/2 cups unsweetened brown rice cereal
6 Medjool dates, pitted and chopped
1/3 cup semi-sweet or dark-chocolate chips
2 tbsp. ground flax meal
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
1 cup brown rice syrup
2 tbsp. cane sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a baking pan with canola oil. Use an 8 x 8-inch pan for squares or a 9 x 13-inch pan for bars.
Toast the pecans, almonds, and coconut on a rimmed cookie sheet for 6-8 minutes until coconut browns lightly, mixing halfway through. Combine oats, brown rice cereal, dates, chocolate chips, flax, cinnamon, nutmeg, pecans, almonds, and coconut in a large bowl. Set aside.
Over medium heat, combine the syrup, sugar, salt, and vanilla in a small pot, stirring for approximately 5 minutes, or until mixture starts to boil and thicken. Pour the syrup over the oat and cereal mixture and stir until saturated. Chocolate chips will melt, coating the other ingredients.
Spread into your baking pan, patting down with parchment paper coated in cooking spray to flatten. Allow to cool at room temperature before cutting.
Eat happily ever after.
