(Lest we forget that this is a lifestyle magazine.)
My friend and I ate this, and an awesome panzanella salad she made, for dinner last night. “This would be great with that kale salad I make. You need to give me the recipe!” she said while we were eating.
“I’ll post it on my blog!” I said.
“I said you need to give me the recipe, not you need to give everyone the recipe,” she said.
Point taken, but I guess not fully.
Ingredients:
olive oil
1 yellow onion
2 cloves garlic
2 inches fresh ginger
1 butternut squash
the kind of organic free-range chicken broth that comes in a box
2 tsp brown sugar
1 can coconut milk
white pepper and sea salt to taste
Instructions:
Preheat the oven to 375. Seed and cut up the butternut squash into 2-inch chunks and put them on a cookie sheet and drizzle them with a little bit of olive oil. Go do something else for 45 minutes. “Write” or whatnot. Or get all your other ingredients ready. This would mean: finely chopping the onion, mincing the garlic and ginger. After you’ve done that — oh and whatever dishes have accumulated so far — I guess you could then go write, but by that point the squash is gonna be out of the oven in like 20, and you might as well just finish that article about PTSD in the New Yorker, think about how misunderstood mental illness is and how people who’ve never had brain problems will never really get what it’s like to have brain problems no matter what article they read, no matter how cogently those articles are written, and how sometimes you want to spring to Elizabeth Wurtzel’s defense but you know that would really be Asking For It and if you go around doing that kind of thing you really won’t ever get any work done.
Take the squash out of the oven: it is all soft and nice now.
Sautee the onion and garlic and ginger in a little bit of olive oil in a dutch oven or other heavy soup-type pot while the squash cools. I like to cook those things on low-medium heat until they’re soft and the onion is translucent, then crank the heat up so things get slightly brown and caramelized. When the squash is cool, peel it and plop it in the now-sizzling pot. Stir everything together and then let it sit there for a minute til everything is hot and maybe some of the squash pieces are also starting to get a little browning action. Then add all the other ingredients — put the coconut milk in first and then pour in enough chicken broth so that the squash pieces are covered by half an inch — and stir. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and then cook for a while. Wander over to stir absentmindedly every once in a while. Stare out the window. The leaves on that tree in the backyard are a little yellower than they were yesterday, and actually if you look closely it has begun giving birth to some kind of sad dangly seed-pod. When the squash pieces totally fall apart and become one with the soup, serve. You can also puree it in the blender or food processor if you like a baby-foodier soup consistency.
20 Comments
I love this “new” you. seriously. love.
Thank you for providing me with a much-needed laugh on a day when I required it the most.
And the soup sounds sublime, as well.
Loves.
I’d like to read more recipes interspersed with your thoughts on mental illness. Did you see “True Life: I Panic”? It was good, if horribly depressing, as True Life always is. Also, true story: I panic.
‘This American Life’ has a podcast called ‘Life After Death’ (or something like that) about people who have been involved in the deaths of other people, either by accident or through war. One of the interviews is with a guy who is suffering from PTSD post-Iraq and post-just a traumatic life in general. It’s good…if you want to dwell on things like PTSD for a little longer. Or you could just watch the tree and enjoy your soup.
Thanks for the link to The New Yorker article. Another reason why Bush will spend eternity in Hell.
Last night, I sent one of those half drunk/half asleep emails to an ex to “just say hi.” Typically, there would be the subtext of “are you seeing someone?”, but my true and less subtle intention was to get her mother’s butternut squash soup recipe. Are you kidding? I could have waited a few hours and skipped such a shameful endeavor.
Agreed about the disconnect between the mentally ill and those that haven’t been there. But, then, there are many such divides between people.
Disagree about E. Wurtzel. Just cuz you’re crazy doesn’t mean you can’t still be an asshole. There ain’t nothing to defend there.
I’m regretting the tone of my comment. Elizabeth Wurtzel is as defense- worthy as any other human.
My pique comes from thinking about how different a person she is from, say, a David Foster Wallace, who also suffered from severe mental illness. Yet he was kind to those around him, while she seems to have been ruthless, and then to boast of, or even glorify the behavior.
Deep in the throws of mania/depression/addiction and/or psychosis people say and do awfulm awful things. But, in the case of a writer, one has years of writing, editing and publishing ones work to reveal - at least on occasion - ones better nature. I’m sure Ms. Wurtzel’s personal terrors and traumas and bad behavior are worthy of subtle consideration in the context of her personal life. What she has presented in her published persona doesn’t.
Not much to say other than I gotta second the first comment - seriously - and that soup just sounds mmmmm…
Thanks for sharing.
This is an excellent description of making soup. I ALWAYS mistakenly anticipate being able to complete a semi-substantial task in the in-between times during soup prep, and invariably I am forced to compromise by finishing some article I’ve already started or merely beginning an article I’d been meaning to read.
Somehow, I feel forgiven.
But I don’t like squash.
How can this be a lifestyle magazine? There is no gloss, no advertisements in the margins, no pictures of suburban gingerbread houses or feature stories about people who have all the personality traits of a real-life sitcom character. And butternut squash soup is not adventurous. It is the domestic dish of corduroy clad menopausal women desperately clinging to their fleeting yuppie status.
I will shut up now.
You should write a book of recipes like this
as luck would have it, I roasted a butternut last night while watching tv, and now I can do something more substantial with it. how do you feel about the addition of roasted carrots?
also, please post your thai green curry recipe.
Laru, I think carrots would be good. And I got another squash from someone’s garden while I was in Maryland over the weekend, so we may live to see the curry recipe posted here. It is actually technically Ruth’s recipe. I can also email it to you.
I made this recipe with a turnip instead of a squash last night. As soon as I saw this, I thought “that’s what I’ll do with my turnip” and I was right. Of course, it’s not the same thing but it was gooo-ooood. I am gonna make it with a squash next weekend. I love soup. Thanks for giving me the idea.
I love when you post recipes. Your stir fried pork with baby bok choy is now in my list of heavy rotations in the kitchen. I made this soup last night along with a spinach tart and some banana bread. It was, as you and others said, delish. BUT, even without the addition of the brown sugar I found it a wee too sweet. I added some cayenne pepper [a teaspoon or two, I don't know I just added and stirred and tasted] to balance out the sweetness. So good. Oh, and I definitely pureed it. Any excuse to use my immersion blender [get one!] and I just like soups like this to be silky smooth. Thanks for the recipe!
I think you’re right about the brown sugar, Jada. I add it more out of habit than anything. Maybe it’s a good idea to taste the squash to see if it’s necessary — some are sweeter than others. I’ll try the cayenne.
I made the soup this weekend and it was received very gratefully - delicious! The only thing I was unclear on was when to add the sugar - I guess it would have been good to add it early on and let it caramelize with the onions, etc? As it was, I ended up dumping it in at the end (right before I pureed the whole thing) and that worked too. I will make it again soon! Thank you!
I made this last night–it was great.