If At First You Don't Succeed, Proceed To Plan B

Little did these peppers know the horror that was to come

Do you ever have one of those days when nothing goes right?  I had so much hope for today - the weather was beautiful, I was up early, and my to-do list was not too long and was full of interesting tasks.   I arrived at the Pleasanton farmer's market just as it was opening and had a chance to stroll leisurely through the stands talking to the vendors and getting first pick of everything.  I am on day 26 of the Veggie Challenge - to make and post about a vegetable dish every day in February. With only 4 days left, I wanted to choose some things that were a little different, and that would be fun for me to cook.  I decided on the following four dishes:  Puree of Romanesco Cauliflower Soup with Spiced Citrus Oil and Cornbread Croutons; Roasted Red Pepper Coulis and Cabbage Rolls stuffed with Wild Mushroom Risotto,  Sous Vide Asparagus with Truffle Butter and Shaved Parmesan, and the grand finale, my favorite recipe for Classic Minestrone Soup.

Soup ingredients were ready and everything was going so well!!!

After purchasing the ingredients I decided to prep as much of the items as possible today, since the rest of the weekend and Monday were going to be very hectic with work, taxes, and other uninteresting but time consuming obligations.  I made and dried the croutons, started the red peppers roasting on my smoker, and prepped all the ingredients for the Romanesco Cauliflower soup and got that started on the stove.  Then, I figured - why stop there?  I cleaned out my refrigerator and freezer and found two bags of turkey parts (wings, necks, etc.) and an overflowing bag of stock trimmings (carrot pieces, onion skins, leek tops, celery leaves, and all the other things I throw into my "save for stock" bag).

I put the turkey pieces and some veggies into a roasting pan to cook and caramelize, and got the other ingredients from the stock bag going in a kettle of water on the stove.  I could potentially use this stock for the minestrone soup, if my sometimes Vegan husband didn't object.

And then it happened.  I went outside to get my ipad from my car, so I could take photos of my certain-to-be masterpieces, and I saw my neighbor outside; my neighbor who had recently returned home from multiple bypass surgery; my neighbor who was looking so good as he did his daily exercise of walking down the street. I had to go congratulate him and wish him well. I had to bring him a gift - yes, that was it!  A gift!  I ran back to the kitchen and whipped up a batch of oil free roasted red bell pepper hummus with smoked paprika, and ran it down to his house. "How are you feeling? How is the recovery coming along?  Etc etc etc.  Those who know me well, know not to get me started talking.  30 minutes later, when we started discussing the red bell pepper hummus, I suddenly remembered - I had red bell peppers smoking on high on my smoker!  I needed to go RIGHT NOW and rescue them.  But I was too late. I smelled the burning smoke as I crossed into the driveway and ran through the front door.  And then horror hit me. It wasn't the odor from the peppers I was smelling. The soup was burning, sending billows of acrid white smoke puffing out the closed lid of my cast iron Le Cruset dutch oven.  I quickly turned off the stove, grabbed some pot holders and carried the pot miniature Vesuvius outside, where, unfortunately, smoke was also billowing out of the smoker. Inside lay 5 Pompei-like crisp, black shells of The Things Formerly Known As Peppers.  Oops.  Major Fail.

Then I remembered about the turkey parts. Were  they burnt to a crisp too? Thank God, No! But they were a little darker than I would have preferred, meaning my stock would turn out darker, but I could live with that -- assuming I could forgive myself for vaporizing the red peppers.

So now the problem became, what to make for today's vegetable?  After much soul searching (Do I really deserve to call myself a cook?  Is it dishonorable to the peppers to move on so quickly?), I checked out the refrigerator and found the rest of the unused burnpile-roasted acorn and kabocha squash, sitting there, begging to be used.  Time for Plan B.  I recently dined at Rich Table in San Francisco and had a really flavorful squash puree with burrata and crisp bread.  I decided to try to make a version of that, building on a recipe for harissa-flavored carrot puree I'd recently seen in Yotam Ottalenghi's Plenty More cookbook. 

Roasted squash mousse with squash seed butter, greek yogurt and croutons

I opened the very, very soft squashes and removed the seeds and pith, then scraped the flesh out into a pot.  It measured about 2 cups and was very thick and a little dry, so I added some vegetable broth and simmered it for a while, then pureed it in the blender with the seasonings and spices called for in the recipe.  A quick taste revealed that it was a little fibrous, so I decided to run it through a chinois, which was difficult because of the fibers.  At the end of much pushing and scraping, I had barely two-thirds of a cup of puree remaining, but it was light, creamy, and slightly sweet with subtly exotic flavors of harissa and lemon zest.

While the puree was simmering, I cleaned and hulled the seeds and roasted them until they were crunchy.  Then I ground them in a spice blender with a bit of squash seed oil to make a very intriguing squash seed butter redolent of peanut butter.  I salvaged the croutons from the Cauliflower soup debacle and ended up with a very nice bowl of Roasted Squash Mousse which Bob and I enjoyed with a well-deserved glass of Grenache.

Roasted Squash Mousse with Squash Seed Butter, Greek Yogurt, and Cornbread Croutons
Serves 2

For the Mousse:
1 small acorn squash
1 small kabocha squash
up to 1 cup of vegetable broth
2 cloves garlic
Zest of 1 lemon and 1 orange
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1/4 tsp salt or to taste
1 tbsp harissa powder or harissa paste

For the Squash Seed Butter:
1/2 cup pumpkin seeds (salted or unsalted)
2 Tbsp Delicata Squash Seed Oil (or substitute walnut or hazelnut oil if necessary)
If using unsalted seeds, add a pinch of kosher salt

Garnishes: 
Croutons - preferably home made (I used leftover cornbread from this post: http://sobremesastyle.blogspot.com/2016/02/mushroom-and-kale-heirloom-cornbread.html
1/2 cup Greek Yogurt, nonfat, lowfat, or regular
2 mint sprigs (optional)

Roast the squashes in a 375 degree oven for 1 hour or until fork tender.  Remove and let cool (can be made several days ahead).  Slice open, remove the seeds, then scrape the flesh into a saucepan.  Add up to 1 cup of vegetable broth as needed to thin the squash to the consistency of the greek yogurt. Simmer 10-15 minutes to remove excess moisture and concentrate the flavors.  Add the squash, garlic, lemon and orange zest, lemon juice, salt, and harissa to a high speed blender or food processor and process until very smooth.  Pass through a fine-mesh sieve to remove any tough fibers then return to the saucepan and put in a warm location until needed.

You can make your own squash seeds by hulling and roasting the seeds, or you can use store-bought seeds for convenience.  Using a food processor or spice grinder, add the seeds, squash seed oil and salt (if the seeds were unsalted) and pulse until creamy.

To serve, spread half of the seed butter around the edge of  two bowls.  Spoon in the mousee and spread with a spoon.  Top with a dollop of Greek Yogurt, the croutons and sprig of mint.