Fleur-de-Vows&Wows

Sometimes I have a recipe that I just can’t wait to share, and that launches a blog post. That is the case today. I found a recipe on Margaret Roach’s blog A Way to Garden, modified it to my own kitchen and kitchen garden harvest, gave it a new name, and voila!

Taste of India Butternut Soup

1 medium size butternut squash

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 onion, diced

4 cloves garlic, chopped

2 tablespoons garam masala

13.5 fl. oz. can coconut milk, unsweetened

2 cans water

Garnish with a pinch of calendula petals atop a nest of freshly chopped chives

Halve butternut squash, scoop out seeds, and place flesh-side down on baking sheet in a 400-degree oven. Roast until soft. Cool, then scoop and mash the flesh, discarding skin.

Sauté onion and garlic in olive oil until soft. Add garam masala and cook a little longer.

Place mashed squash into soup pot and add spiced onion and garlic. Add coconut milk and water. Bring to boil, reduce heat and simmer 45 minutes. At that point, cool and ladle about half of the soup into a blender and puree. Add puree to soup, leaving some chunks for texture, and heat to serve. Garnish with chopped chives with a few calendula petals on top. (Or any fresh herb you have handy.) Laurie Lynch

Wedding Wandering: My mother and I spent last weekend at the wedding of Celso (our Brazilian Rotary Exchange Student from years ago) and Sarah at the lovely Washington’s Crossing Inn on the Delaware. The celebration among family and friends led to much storytelling. I especially enjoyed the remarks by a fellow who met Celso when they were both students at Kutztown University. I can’t remember if he misheard a conversation or what, but the young man originally thought Celso’s name was “Cellphone”. These high-tech youngsters.

While my mom and I were waiting outside the restroom, she struck up a conversation with a gentleman who was waiting for his wife. I was otherwise occupied until the man came up to me and said, laughing, “She’s frisky!”

“Frisky? She’s 85 years old!” I replied.

“She can’t be,” he said.

“I’m not 85,” my mom agreed.

Exasperated, I firmly said, “Look, I’m her mother so I know she’s 85.” Oops, I meant to say “her daughter.”

The fellow looked at the two of us and said, “You’ve both had too much to drink!”

River Wandering: On Sunday, we took the scenic way home and drove up along the Delaware River to Frenchtown. I have been looking forward to visiting the shop “Two Buttons” run by Elizabeth Gilbert and her Brazilian husband. (Elizabeth wrote Eat, Pray, Love, among other books.) The shop is filled with Balinese delights and the coolest dressing room I’ve ever seen.