I spent the day making dark foods, surely the monstrous calling yoo-hoo from some creepy corner of my subconscious. First: a jam emergency sent me to the freezer for the rest of the 2010 berries: Chester blackberries, blueberries, and some boysenberry-rose geranium coulis for good measure. And thus was this year’s Black & Blue Willamette jam born.
Next, I turned to the squashes I had hacked into pieces yesterday. If you’ve ever tussled with an Oregon Homestead Sweetmeat squash, you will understand the monumental work this entails. I roasted some chunks, tried to shove some off on my neighbor (unsuccessfully), and sweated the rest for soup.
As the soup bubbled, bubbled, toil-and-troubled away on the stove, I turned my attention to a pot roast, which ended its life with a wonderful mahogany crust and dark, winey gravy punched up with lemon zest and sherry vinegar. Since Retrogrouch still isn’t eating potatoes, I had to explain that there was poison in the roasted root melange (i.e. potatoes mingling among the non-poison turnips and rutabagas). Caveat maritus!
