Spooktacular Pumpkin Enchiladas

It's a funny thing, Halloween. For one night you get to don a costume and make believe you are someone else, being unrecognizable to even your best of friends. You hollow out gourds and carve funny faces in their skin, illuminating them on the porch for the world to see. It's especially fun when you are a kid, and you go knocking on strangers' doors begging for a year's worth of sweets and treats in a single night, reciting the same weird phrase over and over again. When you think about it, it sounds like a completely bizarre and morbid holiday. Perhaps that is why my dad has never liked Halloween. On the other hand, it is my mom's favorite holiday and I have most certainly taken after her. 

From left to right, the pumpkins Alyson and I carved last night!

Growing up this was absolutely the best holiday to me (right after Christmas, which goes without saying is most kids' #1). While my mom stayed home and passed out candy, my dad would join the troop of neighborhood fathers who walked us around the neighborhood. To make the experience more enjoyable for everyone, we took the unconventional route and went house to house on a golf cart decked out in Halloween decorations. There was always a cauldron in the back of the cart that touted both juice boxes for the kids and brews for the dads. For one night we became the popular posse in the neighborhood. In short... it was awesome. My mom did all the hard work in the background, slaving over our costumes every year (usually the night before) ensuring they were always the most creative and pretty. I've been a devil (twice), a gypsy, Marilyn Monroe, a pirate, Maid Marian (Robin Hood's fair lady), a ballerina, a Siamese twin with my best friend.... the list goes on and on.


This must be why I had a very difficult time thinking of what to be for Halloween this year. I'm afraid I have almost reached my quota of costumes. Although I loved the holiday as a kid (for different reasons), some of my best years for Halloween were in college. My favorite night of all happened completely haphazardly. It was a week night and no one had any costumes prepared for the evening's festivities. In the sum of an hour we came up with our favorite costumes of all time: a pumpkin, Fantasia, the Mad Hatter, and Puss in Boots.

It is common knowledge to most that Elizabeth and I have many token traits in common: we like to cook, we enjoy shopping for clothes we can't afford, and we love laughing at the hilarity that is Scott Sutherland. But what most people don't know is the second layer of similarities we share: Did you know that we share the middle name Hall? Or that we were both bunches of grapes for Halloween as children? It is connections like these that prove we are in each others' lives for a reason, and it was destined that we create a blog to share our love of food with all of you. However, we do have our differences: there is one thing I love about fall that E is weary of... and that is pumpkin. She enjoys a savory squash dish, but when it comes to adding sweetness to the gourd, she shies away.

To appease both Elizabeth and myself, I am featuring a savory pumpkin dish this week. For every holiday, I have a favorite food and when it comes to Halloween, it seems only fitting that pumpkin enchiladas are the main stay.  For best results, serve with homemade refried beans and Brett's Salsamole recipe. As a special treat, I have also included my favorite spice mixture to roast the pumpkin seeds you carve out of your pumpkin.

Happy Halloween!

Lindsay

 

Pumpkin Enchiladas

Adapted from Martha Stewart's Everyday Food

1/2 leftover rotisserie chicken, skin removed, meat shredded

6 scallions, thinly sliced

Coarse salt and ground pepper

1 can (15 ounces) pumpkin puree*

4 cloves garlic, peeled and coarsely chopped

1 jalapeno chile, ribs and seeds removed and coarsely chopped

1/2 teaspoon chili powder

8 corn tortillas (6-inch)

2 cups grated sharp white cheddar cheese (8 ounces)

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. In a medium bowl, combine chicken and scallions. Season generously with salt and pepper; set aside.

In a blender, puree pumpkin, garlic, jalapeno, chili powder, 2 1/2 cups water, 2 teaspoons salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper until smooth (hold top firmly as blender will be quite full). Pour 1 cup of sauce in the bottom of an 8-inch square (or other shallow 2-quart) baking dish.

Lay tortillas on work surface; mound chicken mixture on half of each tortilla, dividing evenly. Top with a small amount of cheese, about 2 tablespoons. Roll up tortillas; place, seam side down, in baking dish.

Pour remaining sauce on top; sprinkle with cheese. Place dish on a baking sheet; bake until cheese is golden and sauce is bubbling, 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool 5 minutes before serving.

*Use Libby's pure pumpkin for best flavor

Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. After extracting the seeds from the pumpkin, clean off any leftover strings of pumpkin and rinse well in a colander. Spread the seeds out in a thin layer on a baking sheet and drizzle lightly with olive oil. One spice at a time, sprinkle cumin, paprika, sea salt, fresh ground pepper, and dry mustard in a light, even layer on the seeds. Top with a few pinches (or more depending on your preferred level of heat) of chili powder. Use your hands to toss and mix the seeds together until evenly coated. Spread out again on the baking sheet and bake until golden brown, about 15 minutes.

E Does Eggs

Some people use the word ‘hate’ to the point of lessening its true meaning. “I hate scary movies” or “I hate cats” usually doesn’t convey any sort of intensity with an aversion to the genre or the mammal; it’s simply become a replacement for the word ‘dislike.’

Having said that, let me be clear about one thing: I LOATHE eggs.

It hasn’t always been this way, mind you. I can remember loving scrambled eggs when I was little; my mom would make them with butter and salt and I looked forward to eating them.

All this changed one bleak day when I was four years old. The preschool I went to served lunch to its students, and the main dish presented was one that would genuinely affect the next twenty-two years of my life: egg salad sandwiches. I’ve talked to people about the curious nature of serving a large group of three to six year olds egg salad sandwiches, and even those who love them agree that most kids are pretty damn picky when it comes to their lunch options. Egg salad is not for everybody, even some egg lovers.

But I digress. Sitting there, in that classroom, with that sandwich looking up at me, I was certain this was not going to end well. The teacher in the room was a big, Texan redhead named Ginny (we called her “Big Ginny” as my sister also has that name, not because she was, in fact, big) and she believed if something was in front of you, you eat it. I was primed to sit there for the entire lunch hour and do exactly the opposite of that (which I had successfully done with other teachers in the past), but something about her honestly intimidated me, and my friends were trying to convince me they were delicious.

So I took a bite.

And immediately threw up.

Dramatization courtesy of Sailor Moon

For almost ten years after this incident, even smelling the sulphuric tinge of hardboiled eggs would induce my gag reflex. My stomach has since strengthened, but the Egg Salad Incident of 1988 not only made me swear off eggs completely, it also made Easter a particularly difficult holiday to handle. 

I realize what many of you are thinking because I’ve dealt with this reaction for over two decades. “You hate eggs?! How can you hate eggs?!” Unfortunately, my aversion to the incredible edible is so strong now that it’s more of a phobia, and less of an actual dislike. This does not bode well for someone who loves to eat and experience new dishes because eggs come up across the board in almost every international cuisine available. I mean, seriously… Find me a culture that doesn’t use it. I dare you.

So this year I turned a corner and decided to get over my fear and try to reestablish a taste for them. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves; I will never eat or enjoy hardboiled eggs. Ever.

That’s just one bridge this girl isn’t prepared to cross.

The family I married into, that is to say, Lindsay’s family, loves eggs and has been overly accommodating to my aversion for the entirety of the eight years I’ve known them. Knowing a blogging opportunity when we see one, we decided to cover my reintroduction, and Lindsay excitedly came up with a recipe she thought I’d enjoy. We both agreed scrambled eggs would be the best dish to start with, as it was something I knew I had once liked. Also, it incorporated goat cheese and fresh herbs, two ingredients I hands down love. There was work to be done on both sides: cooking accomplished by Linds, calming of nerves and anxiety by me.

The morning I tried eggs for the first time in twenty-two years came quicker than I had hoped. Lindsay furiously chopped, whipped the eggs into a frenzy and heated the pan. I sat at the kitchen counter, simultaneously proud of and kicking myself for agreeing to try them. I’m not kidding when I tell you everyone gathered ‘round to watch me take a bite and see my reaction. It smelled good, it looked good, so why not? It was a foot in the direction of overcoming by fear and hatred. I lifted my fork and took a bite.

And they weren’t half bad.


I don’t want to lie to you and tell you it was a “Sam I Am” moment, because there was no sudden love or passion for them within me. There is a caveat to this statement, though, and it’s that I’m sure if I liked eggs, Linds’ version would be one I requested again and again. It’s just hard to go wrong with fresh herbs and goat cheese.

I would also be lying if I said I’ve craved them since. Baby steps, my friends, baby steps. However, I have ordered an omelette at a restaurant and split one recently with a good friend. I no longer pull the bits of egg out of my fried rice, either.

My relationship with eggs is still a distrustful and shaky one, but I feel we are closer to a truce and that a friendship in the future is possible.

Happy Eating,

Elizabeth

Scrambled Eggs with Herbes Fines and Goat Cheese

4 eggs

pinch of salt

Couple grinds of fresh ground pepper

2 springs rosemary, finely chopped

3 sprigs thyme, finely chopped

bunch of chives, finely chopped

1 tablespoon of butter

2-3 ounces goat cheese

Heat a medium, non-stick pan over medium heat. While the pan is heating, crack all the eggs into a bowl and whisk lightly. Add the salt, pepper and herbs to the eggs and stir to combine. 

Cut goat cheese into small pieces, set aside. Add butter to pan until melted, then add eggs. Let the eggs cook in the pan until the bottom of the eggs are cooked, about one minute. As they start to cook, you will see curds form at the bottom. Using a spoon or spatula, gently lift these curds to the top to allow the uncooked egg to flow beneath. As it cooks more, it will be more a matter of lifting and folding, rather than stirring them briskly.  When the eggs are still wet and not totally set, add the goat cheese.  

It should just be slightly melted and soft, not completely mixed into the eggs. When the eggs are almost set (still a little wet looking), remove them from the pan, as they will cook a little more on their own. Serve with good toast. Serves two.




Going back for seconds!



Goat Cheese and Onion Tartlets

I haven’t always loved to cook, but I have always loved to eat.  In the second grade, my teacher assigned our class a project to describe what we believed was the most beautiful thing in the world. My fellow classmates described their mothers or our country’s purple mountains majesty, illustrated by watercolors and crayons in the shades of the sunset.  Unlike the others, I seized the opportunity and declared my love for food. My project read, “The most beautiful thing I've ever seen is low-fat cottage cheese and pepper.” And I drew an interpretation of the dish to accompany my declaration.

I’ve been into food of all shapes and sizes for as long as I can remember, but relatively recently found the joy of cooking. When I was a little girl, it seemed to be a chore, a task my mom had to force me to help her with—definitely not something I enjoyed until I was on the receiving end of things.

Moving out of the house and living on my own is what ultimately helped me to realize my potential. Sick of the cafeteria at my college, I became curious about the kitchen. One of the first recipes I took ownership of were these delicious goat cheese and onion tartlets.  I found it in a vegetarian cookbook I gave my mom for Christmas one year.  He captures a range of cultures through a vegetarian perspective, delivering breakfast, appetizers, soups, main dishes and desserts.  It is the type of book that has you drooling over every page.  I love eating the tartlets, and what’s more, I love cooking them. They are simple and straight forward, and most importantly, very, very delicious.

I have found these to be a real crowd pleaser—serve them as appetizers in 2-inch squares at holiday parties for the perfect bite, or larger squares as a side to a tossed salad. They are best enjoyed warm, but can be made a day ahead of time.  Prepare the tartlets on the baking sheet and put in the fridge until just before your company arrives. I like these to be more rustic; they do not need to be perfect, so don’t feel the need to trim the edges. As is our motto at Knife and Fork, always make recipes your own and play around with them.  Brie works well in place of goat cheese, and feel free to try different herb options, such as rosemary or oregano instead of thyme.

Low-fat cottage cheese with pepper is no longer the end-all-be-all for me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t take pleasure in simple things. Whether it be preparing these tartlets paired with a salad tossed with Elizabeth’s dressing or pushing myself to make a flawless soufflé, I am eternally grateful to the cooking gods for luring me in.

Happy eating,

Lindsay

Goat Cheese and Onion Tartlets

Adapted from Easy Vegetarian

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 cups of thinly sliced onion, 1 lb.

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 ½  tablespoons fresh thyme leaves, chopped

12 oz. puff pastry dough, thawed if frozen*
8-ounce log of goat cheese

Flour, for dusting

Sea salt and fresh ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 425°F. Put the butter in a skillet, melt over low heat, then add onions, garlic, and thyme. Sauté gently for 20-25 minutes, until softened and golden. Season with salt and pepper and let cool.

Put the pastry dough on a lightly floured surface and roll out to form a rectangle, roughly 8 x 16 inches, trimming the edges.  Cut the rectangle in half lengthwise (hotdog, for those of you who relate better to that terminology) and into 4 crosswise, making about eight 4-inch squares.

Divide the onion mixture between the squares, spreading it over the top and leaving a thin border around the edges. Cut cheese into eight slices and arrange in the center of each square.

Transfer squares to a large baking sheet lightly oiled or lined with parchment paper, and bake for 12-15 minutes, until dough has risen and the cheese is golden. Let cool a little and serve warm.

Dressings for Life

When I was nine, I had to write a report on the Shoshone Native American tribe. If you grew up in the Golden State during the last twenty years and attended public school, you know the majority of the fourth grade is spent learning about settlers, the Gold Rush and, well, the Native Americans.

I’d known about this report and its due date for months, but chose to research, write and execute the entire project the day before it was to be turned in. My parents never questioned my work habits because I always finished on time and got great grades to boot; thus, when they saw me furiously scribbling into the wee hours of the morning, they assumed it was an extremely difficult project and not that their eldest child had completely mismanaged her time. I was exhausted the next day, but proud I was able to hand in the entire assignment while acknowledging it was some of my sloppier work.

Suffice it to say I was surprised a few days later when my teacher held up my report as one of the prime examples. My report and two other classmates’ were the “above and beyond” projects and had each received an A+.

I felt like a complete fraud.

Not that I brought that to anyone’s attention, of course.



Procrastination personified.



This is how I feel when people love my homemade salad dressing. It is so incredibly easy even my nine-year-old slacker self could have whipped up a batch, and with flourish.

It took a while to understand the inner workings of a delicious salad; that is to say, I was twenty-two when I mastered the art of making dressing. I had come to a point where I wanted to push the envelope on my cooking skills and create dishes I love, salad with French vinaigrette being one of them. I could never figure out how chefs and home cooks took oil and vinegar and whipped up something thick, rich and luscious. The answer, my dears, came with my comprehension of a word that I’m hoping will change your life as well: emulsion.

Most people know that oil and vinegar do not naturally mix; it takes whisking the two together to get them to combine. Essentially, when one adds oil to vinegar (slowly) while whipping it with a whisk or fork, the particles of the two break down and cling to each other, making a completely different mixture all together. Enough with the chemistry lesson though; my brain hurts.

With the addition of Dijon, salt and pepper, you have a true French vinaigrette and a delicious, go-to salad dressing for any occasion. 




The usual suspects (French, naturally).

 Once you know the basics, you can pretty much create any dressing in the world. This is not an exaggeration. Unfortunately, from this point out, the store bought variety is going to taste subpar… Sorry about that.



Possible future guest stars.

 Our dear friends the Brewers moved to northern California a month ago, and I promised Micaela (wife of Kyle) a selection of some of my favorite dressings. I’ve not only included the basic French vinaigrette that started my personal revolution, but one involving champagne vinegar, maple and shallots, as well as a tried and true jar dressing sure to impress all who try it. Usually, the recipes make more than necessary, but it’ll store beautifully in the refrigerator for one to two weeks before it is no longer edible.

Or you can eat it in one sitting… which you know I’m prone to do.

Happy Eating,

Elizabeth

French Vinaigrette

¼ cup vinegar (balsamic, white or red wine and champagne vinegar all work beautifully)

1 Tablespoon Dijon mustard (I LOVE Trader Joe’s version)

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

¾ cup extra virgin olive oil

In a bowl, whisk together the vinegar, mustard, salt and pepper (feel free to add a small pinch of sugar if you wish). 

Once combined, slowly add the oil in a drizzle, while constantly whisking the mixture. The more you whisk and the slower you pour will determine how quickly or slowly your dressing will start to separate back into oil and vinegar. 

Toss with mixed greens and any favorite accompaniments (I love this with goat cheese and walnuts). Make sure to add your dressing slowly to your salad while tossing the leaves, to thoroughly coat them, but not to the point of saturation. Also, if you want to make less dressing, but don't know the ratios, remember that vinaigrette's can be achieved with one part vinegar to three parts oil. 

Variations: Add any of the following to the mixture before adding the olive oil to get a different, but still delicious, dressing:

½ clove minced or smashed garlic

½ cup crumbled blue cheese

Chopped fresh herbs

One thinly sliced shallot

Mix all ingredients in a jam jar and shake to combine. Makes one cup of dressing.



Pre-shake



Post-shake


Farmer’s Market Salad Dressing
Courtesy of Gwyneth Paltrow for goop.com

1 small shallot, peeled and thinly sliced

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 ½ teaspoons real maple syrup

2 teaspoons champagne vinegar

3 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Coarse salt and pepper to taste

In a bowl, whisk together the shallot, mustard, maple syrup and vinegar. Slowly whisk in the olive oil and season the dressing with salt and pepper.

Toss with salad greens and any favorite accompaniments (I love toasted pecans, blue cheese and Asian pears with this salad).

Cyndi’s Special Mexican Dressing

½ Canola oil

½ teaspoon celery seed

½ small white onion, grated

3 Tablespoon sugar

¼ cup white cider vinegar

½ teaspoon yellow mustard

½ teaspoon kosher salt