to keep my love alive

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!


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