Summerfall: Eggplant Dip and an Apple-Pear Salad

We pulled the last plants from the garden. It's warm: summer-fall. The crisp nights have just started. September spent too much time in the 80's. (My DNA has changed since I moved to Minnesota. 80 is just plain hot to me.) I am itching to warm cider, throw on boots and scarves and dig out my blue-plaid blanket for cuddles.

Don't tell me that January is coming. I know. I may even be ready. But first, I will work with what I have and that is Summer-Fall. Time to use up the last of summer vegetables before we become squirrels, digging up the roots.

This is Ina Garten's recipe and it's simple (I can write an ode to simplicity these days), healthy (I know it's a buzz word - just throwing it in there and we won't speak about my ten pound weight gain) and quite tasty (most important).

ROASTED EGGPLANT DIP INGREDIENTS:

2 eggplants

2 garlic cloves

3 tablespoons parsley

1 red pepper

1 red onion

2 tablespoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons tahini

1/2 teaspoon ground pepper (I used more)

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper (use more)

1-1/2 teaspoons Kosher salt

3 tablespoons olive oil

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Cut eggplants, bell pepper and onion into 1 inch cubes. Toss them in a large bowl with the garlic, olive oil, cayenne, salt and peppers. Roast for 45 minutes. Turn them 1 time halfway through baking. 

Remove from oven. Cool slightly. Put vegetables in food processor and add the lemon juice and tahini. Pulse 3 or 4 times to blend. Adjust salt and pepper. Transfer to bowl and garnish with fresh parsley.

We've gone to the apple orchards a few times. A happy by-product of living here is the easy access to  quite a few orchards. We've come home laden with pies, apple doughnuts and even - fresh apples! (The pies and doughnuts have nothing to do with my weight gain.)

This is one of those salads that you wind up craving in the fall. It's not one of those foods that "you should eat because it's good for you." The fact that it is indeed buzz-word healthy should be ignored. Make this before the only thing fresh in the produce aisles are turnips.

APPLE PEAR SALAD (serves 4) (Recipe from Recipe Runner)

(I'm not going to give amounts. You know how much lettuce and fruit and almonds you want, right?)

1 small apple (or more)

1 small, perfectly ripe pear (or more)

Your favorite tender lettuces: spring mix, butter lettuce, mache, young spinach

Almonds (sliced and toasted)

dried cherries or dried cranberries

feta cheese

bacon (2-4 slices, optional but the salty crunch in the salad is highly recommended by all the humans in the house)

AUTUMN SALAD DRESSING

1 minced shallot

3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 tablespoon water

1 tablespoon honey

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

Salt and pepper to taste

Mix all in a jar and shake and bring to the table - allowing people to add their own dressing and ensuring the salad doesn't get soggy. Soggy salads are sad.

Cioppino-Bambino went to the vet for his first year check-up. 15.2 pounds. When we got him at four months he was 4.1 pounds. But unlike his owner - not overweight. He has landing gear for paws, a true lion's mane (Kirsten wanted him shaved to look like a lion when I had his matted fur combed out; I resisted) and a lemur tail. The vet confirmed that there's a lot of Maine Coon in this chatty boy. 

In true Italian fashion, I currently have sauerbraten marinating in the fridge in honor of my father. (Every Sunday doesn't have to be pasta even though most should be.) Meanwhile, hope you are having a leaf-crunching, apple-laden, blue sky, sugar maple summerfall!

Living with Luce

I threw out a lot of butter. You know how you sometimes need to soften the butter before baking? I would put it in a covered butter dish, lay a dishtowel over it and then put bowls and pots around the edges. Then I would get distracted and return to the kitchen to see an impossibly furry tail under the dish towel and the sounds of happy lip-smacking.

I'd use my stern, Darth Vader voice, "Luuuuuuuce,,,"

And this little binky-face would look at me - whiskers all glistening from butter crumbs and a nose and lips moistened by fat.

I learned to lock up the butter in the china cabinet.

I threw out flour, sugar, cornstarch and salt. And turned the chairs around effectively keeping Luce in jail.

He enjoyed caviar.

And he never got terribly big. So you always had to check the back of the dishwasher before you closed it.

And he got away with every mischievous thing a cat can do - because he made everyone smile.

He was front and center for rehearsals in my home. And if an actor suddenly darted down - we knew that actor was rubbing Luce's tummy.

Luce learned from Pip how to lay on my laptop and become the quintessential "writer's block."

And even at 22 months - his fur and whiskers pointed in many directions giving him the appearance of Einstein.

I'm glad he had his butter and caviar escapades. My daughter posted, "You think you get years. But sometimes you get months. And in those months they become family." And if 20 months ago, I knew the outcome - if 20 months ago - I knew I would only get 20 months and then there would be pieces of my heart a bit crumbly and wobbly - I'd do it all over again. I'd bring little "wild-boy-found-in-the-woods" into our home (and hearts) because living with Luce was a confection. Living with Luce was monkeyshine and mayhem. Living with Luce was adventures in the sand - pieces of seashells from other places and other times. Living with Luce was love.