Roasted Buttercup Squash & Tahini-Yogurt Dip

Somehow, we've already reached the halfway mark of the Twelve Weeks of Winter Squash. Today kicks off week numero six! My personal goal is to use a different squash each week than I've featured so far this year. That means no more pumpkin or butternut squash recipes. Sadly it also means no more spaghetti squash. I can't guarantee inspiration won't take control and wind up requiring one of these varieties, but I'm going to try my best.

As of today, I can officially check buttercup squash off of my list, too. I like working with buttercups because they're fairly manageable—smallish (for a winter squash), thinner skinned, seeds scoop out easily. Once cooked, their flesh is creamy and sweet (though not as sweet as a butternut); it also tends to have less moisture than a lot of other varieties.

Yesterday I was looking for something to munch on while doing all of my Sunday-things—laundry, dishes, housework, prep for the upcoming week...last minute oh-I-just-remembered homework. I found a recipe from Food & Wine for a dip made with butternut squash and decided to switch it out for the buttercup I had hanging out on the counter. With a few other minor adjustments, I had my munching food.

Bacon Fat Spice Loaf (variation on a Lardy Cake)

This bread has been four years in the making. I swear, I feel like that's always something I'm saying. I collect recipes and ideas the way some people collect stamps. Tucked away in every imaginable place, filed away, sticking out of every nook and cranny, in books or folders—you name it and there's probably at least one recipe idea sticking out of it. Fortunately, I know I'm not the only one with this affliction.

Four years ago, I bought The River Cottage Bread Handbook. It's a great book—portable, inspiring, useable. It helped me start my very first sourdough starter. The first half of the books is an introduction, of sorts. It talks about why to bake bread yourself, and then moves into ingredients and step-by-step guides for every part of the process. The second half is all about the recipes, and putting the techniques you learned in the first half to use. There's even a tutorial on how to build your own clay oven tucked into the back of the book. I haven't used it yet, but oh, how I'd love to one day!

There are several pages that have had bookmarks marking their spot since day one. I've worked my way through a good amount of them, but one has been hanging out, patiently waiting its turn ever since. It's the recipe for Lardy Cake. Which is actually bread, not cake. You know how that goes sometimes.

Buttermilk Pumpkin Pie

I can't make it through Thanksgiving without eating at least one slice of pumpkin pie. Does anybody else feel that way? I'm sure it's a tradition-slash-nostalgia type of deal. But the crazy thing is, if we're not having Thanksgiving dinner with the extended family (my grandparents, parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc.), I am the only one who will eat it. Not a single one of my kids likes it. My hubby doesn't like it. And yet, I can't do without it. Therefore, I wind up either trying to eat a whole pie by myself or throwing the majority of a pie away. Both scenarios make me sad.

I need to buy one of those split-decision pie pans. I would feel much better about finding something a way to consume or save half of a pie. But then the problem lies in what to make on the other half of the pan. Pretty much all of the other pies are devoured in their entirety. I suppose that could be my "experimental pie" side. Sounds like a plan. Or there's always an individual tart...

But this year was still a full pie. And we stayed home, so you can probably guess what happened to the majority of it. I always try to switch things up a bit, try a variation on the Libby's recipe I grew up with (not that there's anything wrong with that one, it's just in my nature). This year's pumpkin pie used buttermilk in the filling, which added a nice little tang that worked to temper the sweetness and complement the spice.

Slow-Cooker Cranberry Turkey Breast with Gravy

I'm sneaking in one more recipe for you to consider adding to your Thanksgiving table this year. I know it's T-minus 24 hours or so, but this dish is totally worth it. Now, I've mentioned before that I always make at least one extra turkey breast alongside our turkey—I hate not having Thanksgiving leftovers. This is probably the recipe I will use from now until the end of time for at least of those extra turkey breasts. It's that good.

Okay, so let's talk crispy skin. It's one of the best parts of the turkey, right? But it gets eaten right away. I mean, it has a short window. You rip it off gingerly to avoid burning your fingertips, and you savor the crispy, flavorful crackle. Crispy skin does not make it to the leftover containers for that reason, and because it would no longer be crispy when reheated. So, roast your turkey in the oven (might I suggest this Crispy Skin Roast Turkey with Citrus Herb Brine), and cook this one out of the way in your crockpot.

This extra breast won't yield you any extra crisp skin, it will however give you extra ridiculously juicy and flavor-packed meat AND about two and half cups of gravy. Extra gravy is never a bad thing. Like, ever.

Herbed Turkey over Cornbread Waffles w/ Cranberry Sauce

I like Thanksgiving leftovers almost as much as I like the meal itself. It actually makes me a leeeetle bit frustrated if there's nothing left for later that night AND the next day. That is exactly why I make extra. Of everything. For example, even if I'm roasting a whole turkey, I put an extra breast in the crockpot. I always make a double batch of cranberry sauce. And one pie? Oh no, I make at least three pies or other dessert offerings—but mostly pie.

I know this sounds boring, but my absolute favorite way to eat leftover turkey is simply piled on white bread and sprinkled with salt for a sandwich that sticks both to the roof of my mouth and to the insides of my throat and chest as it goes down. I swear, but that's exactly the way I like it. Hanger ensues if I don't eat at least one of those sandwiches yearly.

But I also like more creatively re-purposed leftovers. For example, a Turkey Manhattan (an open-faced sandwich with turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy) is probably second on the must-have Thanksgiving leftovers scale. I also always throw a couple of extra sweet potatoes in the oven alongside whatever is roasting for the sole purpose of eating these Cranberry-Barbecue Turkey Stuffed Sweet Potatoes later on. Turkey Tetrazzini and Cranberry Sauce Crumb Bars are a couple more of my family's favorite uses for leftovers.

Persimmon Pudding

Okay, so I'm about to put this out there—until recently, I thought persimmons were a tropical fruit. I think it's because I didn't eat a single persimmon until a few years ago. Whenever I saw them, they were at the market, in the produce section next to the coconuts, star fruit, pineapple, papaya, mango...you get the point. Of course, that seems to be where the section they display the pomegranates in, too. A person can get the wrong idea.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming it on the supermarkets. My ignorance is my own fault (if fault is really a thing here). Recently I was paging through books and magazines to help me plan out my Thanksgiving menu when I stumbled across an article about and recipe for persimmon pudding. I was dumbfounded when I read the title "Indiana Persimmon Pudding". What? Indiana? I live in Indiana. Little did I know, persimmons grow wild across much of Southern Indiana and Illinois. Well, I live as north as you can get in Indiana without being in Michigan. So that explains it.

Apparently persimmon pudding is a tradition and a staple in the Midwest (where I've spent almost my entire life) and the South. And yet, to me it was a brand new discovery. Trying to remember how many times I've actually eaten persimmons in my life, I can remember approximately three times before now. THREE. I just never really knew what to do with them (and apparently didn't bother doing even minimal research). But this little tidbit of knowledge reeled me in.

Duck and Lentil Ragù with Spaghetti Squash

The word ragù instantly conjures up visions of warm kitchens, family meals, and comfort food. Slow cooking...long braises...tomato based (traditionally) meat sauces, usually containing some sort of wine...what's not comforting about that? But sometimes I cheat and go for something equally as hearty and flavorful, yet cooked in far less time. Let's call them rapid ragùs.

This one in particular still features tender, slow-cooked meat—it's just that I didn't simmer it in the sauce itself. I love slow roasted duck and duck confit (duck legs that have been cooked slowly in their own fat), and while I don't mind taking the time to cook either, Maple Leaf Farms offers some awesome pre-cooked options. That means that I can have slow roasted meat at my fingertips, whenever.

I made this ragù at the end of last week (you may remember me telling you that there was a thick blanket of snow outside my window). It all started with a couple of little ovalular spaghetti squash sitting on my counter. Spaghetti squash just so happen to be my favorite type of winter squash...well, any squash really. More often than not, I'll just roast and scrape one and eat it with some Italian sausage and kale; that's one of my favorite meals. But since I've shared that recipe before, I knew I had to come up with something else. I mean, that is the point of 12 Weeks of Winter Squash. Stepping outside and trying new things, new combinations...coming up with new favorite uses for these sturdy squash varieties.

Roast Crispy-Skin Turkey (w/ Citrus Herb Brine)

Fourteen years ago, I was in charge of the Thanksgiving turkey for the first time. I was 25 and finally ready to join the ranks of my grandmas, mom, and aunts; I was finally going to be hosting the meal that I look forward to for an entire year. I'd been training for that day my whole life by helping choose how we were going to flavor the bird when my mom hosted...by researching the pros and cons of brining...by reading up on wild vs frozen. I was a master baster. Go ahead, snicker. I was ready.

So, I set about my normal routine of figuring out how I could make the best turkey my family had ever eaten. Visions of breast meat so juicy that it garnered involuntary whimpers from the hungry mouths of my guests. Skin so burnished and crispy that I'd have to fend off sneaky fingers with the tines of my carving fork. Turkey that elicited a satisfied smile when looked back on throughout the year.

You know, a turkey that was no less than amazing—an A++++++++.....

Forbidden Rice w/ Butternut Squash & Edamame

Welcome to week number two of the 12 Weeks of Winter Squash! With Thanksgiving this month, I've been toying with some new side dishes to add to the this year's table. Mind you, I can't take away any of the "normal" sides lest I want mutiny to break out, but nobody ever objects to more food.

Browsing my pantry shelves led me to a container of Forbidden rice ("it's forbiiiidden!"...name that movie). It's been there for months. I've been waiting for inspiration, as I didn't just want to have a bowl of plain rice—even if it was prettier than most. Forbidden rice is a beautiful deep shade of inky purple once cooked. Or is it black with deep purple highlights? Either way, it feels like it was meant to be combined with some vibrant orange winter squash and shared during an autumn meal.

The addition of edamame to this rice came about last minute. The squash was already done roasting. The rice was almost ready to be fluffed. I pulled some scallions from the crisper—they were my original plan for  green flecks amongst the black and orange—only to find them limp and faded. Hmmmm, that was not going to work. So I started rummaging through the crisper and freezer for another way to add some color.

Spice-Swirled Cranberry Sweet Potato Bread | #ThreeLoaves Movement

ONE LOAF FOR YOU.

ONE LOAF FOR A FRIEND.

ONE FOR SOMEONE IN NEED.

That is the premise of the Three Loaves Movement, the brainchild of Jerry from Cooking Stoned. Inspired by his 2010 participation in the Yahoo!'s Ripple of Kindness project, Jerry kicked off this movement in which food is a form of activism. The challenge, for all who are willing to accept it, is to bake three loaves of bread a month (aka one for you, one for a friend, and one for someone in need) that feature sustainable and seasonal ingredients.  Since baking and sharing bread is something that I do on a monthly basis anyway, I loved the thought of taking part in this movement. I say it all the time—not much compares to a freshly baked loaf of bread—comfort, happiness, nourishment.

So, it's November. Obviously pumpkin and winter squash come to mind when I think seasonal produce here in the Midwest. My mind also goes directly to Thanksgiving. A table heavy with seasonal foods for which to share and give thanks. I toyed with the idea of going the savory route and combining brussels sprouts, garlic, onions, and potatoes. And though I didn't go that direction, I may still push them into some soft focaccia dough in the next couple of weeks.

Instead I decided that sweet potatoes were the way to go. I pictures my family's favorite rustic potato loaves, and thought that maybe swapping out sweet potatoes would yield the same great results, but with a beautiful orange hue to reflect the season. But then visions of cranberries and spice started swirling in my head, which transferred themselves to the inside of my sweet potato loaves. Instead of sharing savory loaves, I wound up sharing enriched loaves that were studded with cranberries and punctuated by a sweet and spicy swirl.

Giant Pumpkin Spice Cinnamon Rolls

It was almost exactly 5 years ago to the day that I made my first from scratch, fully homemade batch of cinnamon rolls. I was so darn proud of myself, because I had just started to become friends with yeast. We're a family of cinnamon roll eaters through the generations, so that was a pretty significant moment in my life. Coincidentally, they also had a pumpkin base. But oh, how far I've come since then. Where once I avoided baking yeast breads like they were the plague, I now long for the comfort of their company in the kitchen. What a difference 5 years can make.

So, when our #TwelveLoaves host for the month, the lovely Renee from Kudos Kitchen by Renee, announced that our theme for November was pumpkin, I automatically knew that I was making cinnamon rolls. No, that's a lie—but wouldn't it have been poetic? I was actually leaning towards savory. Visions of a sage-laced pumpkin cornbread danced in my head. And then I entertained a rustic loaf that still included sage, but also bacon. I even had all of the ingredients ready to go for that one. But instead, the craving for cinnamon rolls full-on telenovela-slapped me across the face. Cinnamon rolls it was.

I've mentioned (many times) before that I'm a bit of a connoisseur. I love a good straightforward cinnamon bun without any bells and whistles, but I can't help but veer off the path, picking up random bells and whistles and sticking them in my bag for later. Today is a bells and whistles day. Did I just say bells and whistles far too many times in one paragraph?