pumpkin and white bean soup
from the Greens cookbook (1987) written by the chefs of the same-named restaurant in California to which I have never been. So sad.
found the most beautiful Cinderella pumpkin at the Cortelyou Farmer’s market. It would have made a wonderful carriage, green like patina on copper, frosty white in patches. Not being a fairy godmother, I made a soup instead. It was a hefty pumpkin, and I used half, approximately ¾ pound or 4-5 cups when cut in chunks.
halving a pumpkin and skinning it is not for the faint of heart—a serious knife should be employed for the purpose. If you don’t yet have a beloved blade then ask a friend with kitchen wits and witchery (and a bit of cash flow) to get you a good Chef’s knife for your birthday. A fine knife will make you more eager to cut up veggies and entices your foodie friends to cook in your kitchen. Back to the pumpkin: plunge your knife tip into the skin near the stem, the bottom is usually the flattest part of the thing and should sit steadily on your cutting board but having a friend help you steady it is not a bad idea, and carefully bear down along the whole blade, towards the bottom of the pumpkin. Pull out the blade and start again as often as you need. Bit by bit is better than a dramatic cleaving and trip to the emergency room. Repeat on the other side.
scoop the seeds and goop from the pumpkin halves. if you want, reserve some of the seeds for toasted pumpkin seeds, and pile up at least some of the seeds and all of the pulp to use for the stock. slice of the pumpkin skins and set aside for stock as well. cut the pumpkin into slices about an inch wide then across to make large chunks.
wash one medium or two small leeks. Slice off the greens and set aside. Slice down the center of the leeks and across into thin half moon strips. Smash and peel two or three cloves of garlic. Scrub and chop a few carrots or parsnips (parsnips are really nice) and several ribs of celery.
in a large pot, heat a tablespoon of olive oil. add the garlic and leek greens and stir to coat and cook a few moments. stir in the celery. add in the pumpkin pulp and seeds and a few stalks of parsley. Salt and pepper the whole lot. Pour in about six cups of water. Bring to a simmer and cook for about 20 minutes. Turn off the heat and let cool a bit before draining, squeezing the rich broth from the veggies by pressing them in a colander over a bowl or pot.
in a soup pot, heat a few slugs of olive oil. add the leeks and stir, cooking over a medium flame until they begin to soften. toss in the pumpkin and carrots, stirring to coat. Cook for about 9 minutes, stirring occasionally or often depending on how wide or narrow your pot is. salt and pepper (white pepper if you have it) and stir in a handful of sage and/or thyme. Pour in the stock and bring to a simmer. Cook for about half an hour (sometimes longer) until the pumpkin begins to fall apart. Stir it every once and awhile.
add a few cups of cooked white beans* and a cup or two of the bean cooking liquid and stir. Cook for another 15 minutes or so, until the pumpkin is an orange velvet background to the beans.
top with a drizzle of olive oil, chopped parsley and a squeeze of lemon or swirl in a spoonful of plain yoghurt, crème fraiche or sour cream. Serve with piles of warm, excellent bread.
* to make the beans: pick through two cups of dried small white beans, like navy beans, and remove any bad beans or junk. bring a pot of water to a boil, about three time the amount of beans. turn off the heat and add the beans and let sit for an hour. rinse the soaked beans in cold water, combine with fresh water in the pot, add in stalks of fresh or dried sage and thyme and bring to a boil. cook for about an hour or al dente. drain, saving some of the cooking liquid.
radical muffin’s new favorite search terms (and recipe review)
I remain astounded that anybody ever stumbles across this space. Especially since that brief disappearing act then broke my digital camera stunting the original photography that once graced this virtual wall of post-it writings.
Anyway, I am thrilled to be able to be found, according to the Word Press tracker, by searching the following terms and equally thrilled that people are searching for: pink emerald lady; st. mary magdalene coat of arms; mermaid silhouette sitting; queer islington; anal penetration by demons; baking all pink; recipe stovetop granola cast iron toast; what do you mean by heavy cream; radical queer; mary magdalene goddess; naughty muffin king pictures; and poem for chocolate muffin.
The most visited recipe is for pineapple upside down cake deluxé.
The most visited narrative is Congregation of Coney Island in the Church of Brooklyn Lights.
The most visited video: Lesbian Phone Sex.
Join the crowd and click on in…
fried mashed potatoes
put a large pot of water on to boil. scrub 6 small potatoes; I like the red ones. Quarter them and plop them into the water at a rolling boil. Cook for 8-10 minutes or until soft. Drain and return to the pot if your pot can stand the up-coming beating or dump into a heavy bowl.
add three tablespoons of butter to the potatoes. Sprinkle liberally with sea salt and pepper and herbs; pick about 2 tablespoons of fresh thyme if you have it, but this round I just used dried thyme and basil, about a teaspoon each. Drizzle with about a ¼ cup of heavy cream. Using one of the most fabulous inventions of all time—the hand potato masher—mash mash mash. Save a few lumps for texture, having left the skins on helps some bits hold together (plus – pretty!).
shred about ½ a cup of hard cheese like parmesan or gruyere would be nice; we had some schmany delectable cheese I cannot remember the name of now. Beat an egg or, to be really decadent, an egg plus one yolk. Stir in half the egg and most of the cheese, just saving some for decorative pre-table topping, into the potatoes with a wooden spoon. Set aside the egg in a shallow bowl and whisk in a little cream. In another shallow bowl, spread panko flakes or bread crumbs.
heat a cast iron skillet or your heaviest, if you are not blessed with cast iron, which should acquire as soon as possible. Add a bit of olive oil or butter or a nice half’n’half mix of the two.
form the potato mash into patties, dredge quickly in the egg/cream, press a few sage leaves into it – or one big dramatic one- then press the patty in the breading, flip and press the other side. Fry. A few minutes on each side, going for golden brown. Transfer to a toweled plate to rest and drain excess oil.
you can fry two or three potato patties at a time, just be sure not to crowd the skillet. Dredge out any escaped bits of breading before they burn and taint your oil. This does not have to be a deep fry job; using just enough oil for things not to stick creates plenty of golden fried goodness to satisfy.
these are freaking amazing. I cannot imagine what they would not be good with, but here are some ideas: oniony, garlicky sautéd greens like kale or collards; veggie sausage (which I like to pepper a lot and eat with maple syrup) and a fried egg; red lentils with plain yoghurt and hot pepper sauce; fried apples’n’onions…oh, yes- with sour cream. I love fall.
Because I Love You Tuna Casserole
put your biggest pasta pot on to boil, and butter a large casserole dish that can go in the oven. heat your oven to 375°. When water is at a rolling boil, add a box of elbow noodles, spirals or other happy, short shape of creamy sauce holding pasta. Cook until al dente and drain while chopping veggies or making the sauce.
gently wipe clean a pint of mushrooms then separate their caps from their stems. Chop the heads and mince the legs. Set aside in two little bowls; you will need 6 little bowls to set your mise en place for this recipe. The Radical Muffin kitchen recently had a perfect set of nesting glass bowls move in so the cook is blissed out with happy, obsessive pre-chopping and arranging. Peel and chop a medium sweet onion, yellow. Chop three very green, delicate celery stalks. Shred a block of white cheddar cheese on the largest opening on a box grater. Drain two small cans or one big can and one small can of tuna – dolphin safe for heaven’s sake.
in a heavy bottomed sauce pot, melt two to three tablespoons of butter over medium heat. Add the onions and celery when the butter begins to foam, and sauté until soft, about 5 minutes. Stir in a teaspoon or so of celery salt. Toss in the stems of the shrooms then the caps and cook for a bit longer, until they begin releasing their juices. Sprinkle a small handful of flour (about three tablespoons or less; I have small hands) over this cooking base and stir, cooking the raw taste out of the flour for a few minutes.
pour in ½ a cup of heavy cream and a 1 ½ of whole milk slowly as you stir. Cook to simmering but do not boil and stir in a handful of shredded cheese.
eyeball how much of the pasta you will need to fill your casserole dish, and mix that amount with your sauce in a big bowl. If you like, and my best friend likey-likes, stir in a package of frozen peas or fresh if you are so lucky as to have them. You will likely have remaining pasta, for which there are 50,000 uses, and possibly sauce, which is great over broccoli, omelets, potatoes or more pasta.
in the casserole, make an initial layer of sauced noodles, about halfway. Sprinkle with a handful of cheese, and fork the pressed tuna out of the cans and over the noodles. Top the fish with another layer of noodles and liberally grind fresh pepper over these and sprinkle with celery salt. Cover the entire casserole with shredded cheese and dust with paprika.
bake in the oven for about 12 minutes or until the cheese is browned and melted. Traditionally, this is topped with crushed potato chips, which is a pleasure to be tried at least once. Buttered bread crumbs or pink flakes also add crunch. But for the purest comfort, I cannot help but love the gentle chewy crispness of cheese alone.
Granola muffins
adopted from nigella lawson’s domestic goddess for Brooklyn kitchens
2 cups granola
1 cup buttermilk
¼ cup neutral oil like veggie (olive oil will taste strongly in a sweet muffin like this)
2 eggs
1 cup of flour
¼ cup of sugar (white or brown to compliment your granola)
preheat your oven to 350° and line a twelve-cup muffin tray with papers or butter the little bins. Measure your buttermilk into a big measuring cup and beat in the eggs and oil. In a big mixing bowl, pour all the liquids over the granola.
to measure flour for baking, stir it with a fork in the bag to loosen, scoop into a measuring cup and level off the top by running the flat side of a butter knife over it. (Unless you are making Cake – then triple sift your flour.) Gently stir the flour and sugar into the granola slop, just enough to combine, over-stirring toughens your muffins. Spoon the batter into the muffin tin and bake for 15 minutes, until the tops are golden brown. Serve with butter and jam or honey. Phenomenal warm but will keep for a day. Freeze if you want to keep them longer.
Granola
homemade granola makes you understand why people ate it to begin with.
2 cups oats (not the quick cooking kind)
1 cup pecans, semi-crushed
1 cup pepitas (pumpkin seeds!)
½ cup sesame seeds
½ cup golden raisins
1 cup dried apple rings cut into bit
2-3 tablespoons of butter
1 cup of honey
3-4 cardamom pods, crushed
cinnamon
sea salt
Line a baking tray with parchment paper, butter it and preheat your oven to 350. Also butter a large mixing bowl.
Toast the oats, pecans, pepitas, cardamom pods, and sesame seeds in a dry skillet over medium flame. Begin the oats first then stir in the rest staggered, like making a stir-fry and the delicate, quick cooking peas go in last. Stir frequently, toasting until the oats and sesame seeds are lightly browned and everything is nutty toasty smelling. Add the butter near the end, stirring to melt it and coat everything.
Pull out any sharp, big cardamom pod bits to be kind to your eaters.
Pour it all into a very big mixing bowl. Add the dried fruit and cinnamon then pour the honey over it. Stir together and dump on the cookie sheet. Sprinkle with sea salt. Bake in the middle of your oven for about 15 minutes, until further browned and stuck together all granola like. Let the tray cool on a rack for a few hours then break apart and store in an airtight container.
Make it vegan with oil instead of butter. Experiment with fancy nut oils like hazelnut for transcendental granola.
Obviously, granola should be made to suit your whims: consider dried cranberries, pistachios, dried chili pepper flakes, orange zest or chocolate chips (add after cool).
Granola recipes are of mixed minds about when to add the dried fruit, before or after baking? Raisins and dried apples lend themselves to going through the baking process, though I sometimes do not add them and instead add them after the granola has been baked, dumping it back into the mixing bowl and gently mixing by butter hand while its still hot, though cooled to bearable temperature.
Lemon Thyme Risotto
1 small sweet onion
1 ½ cups Arbario rice
1 cup white wine
5 cups veggie stock
2 organic lemons
fresh thyme
1 cup shredded parmesan cheese
3 tablespoons of butter
Zest your two lemons, scrapping their bright yellow peel with the finest side of a grater or a file. Pick the thyme leaves off their stalks, generating about 2-3 tablespoons of fresh herb.
Heat a stockpot over a medium flame, and add in a tablespoon or two of olive oil and of butter. Add in the rice and stir to coat and cook 3-5 minutes to toast. Turn up the heat and pour in a cup of white wine. Bring to a boil, stirring until the wine is absorbed. Add another cup of wine and squeeze in half a lemon. Stir until absorbed. Add the veggie stock ½ a cup at a time, alternating with fresh lemon juice, and stirring until the liquid is absorbed each time. Cook, adding liquid, until the rice is al dente and the risotto is creamy, about 20 minutes- ½ an hour.
Stir in the lemon zest, thyme and cheese. Pour in another slug of highest quality olive oil, a dash of salt and pepper. Serve in big shallow bowls.
saffron flat bread
my favourite kitchen witch flew in for fireworks last weekend. We didn’t plan it: on Tuesday we happened to talk; it became possible; then it happened. Joy—it’s been months of missing her face.
in honor of her coming, something must be made with the most precious gift, the unopened box of saffron from my flatmate, recently returned from India. When her purchases finally followed her, she presented yet another lovely gift, the sexiest so far, possibly ever so far, reminiscent of the amethyst earrings and embroidered pillow covers that the Persian kitten brought me back from Turkey: saffron from Kashmir. From disputed territory, she said.
focaccia has been the order of the Sunday in the radical muffin kitchen for at least three months. It is time to share a recipe. This decadent saffron flat bread is a tarted out focaccia, so the basic architecture is below and the variation follows
- basic focaccia
pour one cup of hot water into a wide glass mixing bowl. When the water is hottish warm (books say 38° degrees), sprinkle a packet of yeast over the surface. Take the bowl in your hands and give it all a swirl. Give the wee beasties peace and quiet for three to five minutes.
whisk in about a cup and a half of flour. I use organic unbleached white flour. Cover the slurry with a wet towel, though don’t drape it directly on the surface or it will stick in a big and disgusting way. You could, I suppose, add a layer of plastic wrap, but I imagine it I better for the yeast to have the moisture and the air. Alternatively, pour a thing layer of olive oil over the top.
let this sit for 45 minutes to an hour. Bread likes to rise in a draft free, warm place, so find a cozy spot for your bowl like the back of the stove. My mom used to put rising things on top of the refrigerator. We have a spot in our living room that is often in a sun patch. Think of your rising bread like a napping kitten: where would she like to be? Though, happily, you can pick convenient places unlike, say, the keyboard of the laptop.
times up—get your wooden spoon. Stir in two or three tablespoons of sugar or honey and a slug or two of olive oil (or stir in what you poured on top). Oil a clean baking sheet while you have the oil and your hands are still clean.
add flour next, stirring in just enough to handle the dough, because kneading comes next. You can work with surprisingly liquid dough, and it makes for a light focaccia. Try stirring in only about half a cup more of flour. Have another half cup on the side to add as needed. Oil your hands, and try to pick up the dough.
working over the bowl, hold it in a ball between your hands. Pull your hands apart, letting the dough stretch between them. Clap gently back together and pull back again. Add twisting motions, fitting your hands together while making like talking shadow puppets, left thumb on top then right thumb on top. Envision bread mixers, cotton candy spinners, taffy pullers. It will ooze between your fingers. Scrap it back into the central body. Knead it in the air like this for at least six minutes, and the longer the knead, the more exquisite the bread. You will feel it getting smoother, more elastic. I go for 9 – 12 then my arms start to hurt, but since I’ve been in training, I can go longer. Hey—tastier than the gym, right?
adding more flour, or subbing in whole wheat flour, makes a heartier denser bread. Sometimes that’s just the thing, when it is destined to become of vehicle for wet tomato slabs or partner to winter root veggie soup, for examples.
to knead a heavier dough, stir in about cup and a half of flour and press an roll the dough into a ball in the bowl. Press your fist into it, up against the side of the bowl, stretching it out. Fold it over itself and do it again and again and again. Turn the dough, turn the bowl. With the stiffer dough, you can also turn it out onto a floured board. Visit here for a pretty good kneading description: Choosing Voluntary Simplicity.
transfer the dough to the oiled baking sheet. Drape wet dough. Sort of pour it from your hands, laying it out into a rectangular shape. Stiffer bread-to-be can be pulled into a rough rectangle or rolled out on a floured board. Let it rise on the baking sheet for another half an hour or so, and pre-heat the oven to 400°.
the wet style may be too sticky to take the traditional dimples in focaccia, and it wants a topping or, frankly, it’s kinda fugly. If it is not too sticky, use your fingertips to gently push hollows into the surface of the bread. You can lightly brush the dough with oil or sprinkle with water. Top with generous sprinkling of sea salt or kosher salt. Add any other toppings at this time, and let it rest for another 10 minutes or so.
bake for 20 minutes. More makes for crispier; less makes for chewier. Buona gusta!
- saffron flat bread
use 1/4 cup of the hot water to soak a generous pinch of saffron. Stir the golden liquid and threads into the dough with the second addition of flour.
mix together about a 1/4 cup each of halved dried cherries, golden raisins, and almond slivers. After the dough has rested on the baking tray for 15 minutes to half hour, spread the fruit and almonds over the top. Sprinkle with coarse salt and sugar, about a tablespoon each. Cardamom would be a welcome addition, likewise orange zest.
bread pudding
And since I’ve been an absentee blogger (a technical difficulty, my computer has gone lame and I am on bowered time-connected), I’m giving up a bonus recipe this edition. This is for the saucy wench in Chicago, for years of unflagging friendship. Though, you know, Sistergirl, you already have it; it’s in the ’zine.
Essentially, bread pudding is leftover bread buttered and baked in custard. One of those genius little recipes of frugality, a means to ensure remainders do not go to waste but are lovingly transformed into deliciousness.
The ingredients will vary based on what you have on hand, and the amounts will vary according to the size of your baking vessel. Please adjust accordingly and adopt to suit all your whims and fancies.
Basic Bread Pudding Instructions:
in a saucepan, heat about 2 1/2 cups of milk almost to a boil (scald it). Slice open a vanilla bean, drop it in and stir. Lower the flame and cook for about 15 minutes. Leave to cool.
butter both sides of thick slices of a leftover baguette, about half a loaf. Cut or rip into cubes. I think ripping is easier, because the buttered bread just sticks to your cutting board. Arrange the pieces in a casserole dish or baking pan. Whether you select a deep or shallow pan depends on your desired crispy to gooey ratio: deep pans make for more custardy, cakey pudding, and shallow pans allow for more crispy, golden top crust.
beat 3 eggs, or 5 egg yolks for lux pudding, with 1/3 cup of sugar and a dash of salt. Pour the scalded milk into the eggs in a thin stream, beating constantly. Pour over the bread. Let stand for at least half an hour, and it will be really happy if you wrap it up and let it sit in the fridge overnight. I set aside a bit of custard to drizzle over the top just before baking.
set your casserole in a pan that is larger around by about a quarter inch. Pour water in the bottom pan until the level is a quarter inch or so below the op edge of the casserole. This is a water bath. Bake at 350 for about an hour.
for breakfast, serve it with maple syrup, and maybe layer some raisins in. Pecans are good. For dessert, try it with dark chocolate bits and orange zest added, served with whipped cream or rum sauce. Or you can make it with pain au chocolate. No need to butter croissants, of course. Making jam sandwiches out of the bread, buttering the outside, and breaking that into cubes also makes a mad good pudding.
salted brownies
dessert brought to you by the PMS angels. A homespun predecessor to the foodie trend of salted caramels etc, this is culinary genius, far more than the sum of its parts, and easy as pie never really is. A certain Ms. Kate Krader has been making these fudgy, sweet-salty brownies since she was 10 years old. I got the recipe from the sex librarian who immediately doles out the goods lest she eat the whole batch herself—thanks!
preheat your oven to 350°. Line a 9 inch metal cake pan (round or square) with foil and lightly butter the foil.
chop up two ounces of unsweetened fair trade chocolate.
in a fairly large saucepan over low heat, melt a stick and a half of unsalted butter—the closer to home the better, and if you know the cow, even better! Stir in the chocolate bits until they’ve melted too. Turn off the heat, and whisk in a heaping ¼ cup plus two tablespoons of unsweetened cocoa, two cups of sugar, three large eggs, and a teaspoon and a half of vanilla. Using a wooden spoon, stir in one cup of all purpose flour.
pour the shiny brown batter into your pan and smooth the surface with the back of the spoon. Sprinkle about a teaspoon of coarse sea salt across the surface. Drag a butter knife through the pan, swirling the salt just barely into the surface of the batter.
bake in the center of the oven for about half an hour, until the edge is set but the center is still a bit soft. Let the brownies cool at in the pan until room temperature. Lift the brownies from the pan and peel off the foil, slice, eat.
eat in hand broken wedges to nurse broken hearts. To seduce warming ones, serve with the simplest heavy whipped cream and raspberries.
