Indian lentil and acorn squash curry (or soup)

 

If you have never heard of a What's App group chat then you also probably don't know how addictive it can get. The other day I decided to create one for my running group: the core group consists in myself, another girl and a guy, but we have had quite a few new entries lately so organizing our outings has become more engaging than before. We have been spending so much time texting and messaging on What's App individually to figure out who is coming and where to meet up that I thought it would be practical to create a What's App group chat. One of us writes, who wants to run answers and who doesn't abstains. Simple. Or so I thought.

 

 

 

 

 

Let's just say the group chat took on a life of its own.
 

Yesterday, the only guy of the group came out of an evening class to find 26 messages on his phone.

Quickly he checked his What's App account, wondering what had happened since he had confirmed his presence.

When he opened the messages to read them he was submerged by comments along the lines of*:

"It's supposed to be really cold tomorrow morning; I really need to get some new pants. The other day I stopped for a coffee after running and the guy who always serves me asked me why I was in my pjs"
 

"I am wearing running tights and a zip top; d'you think I should wear a tshirt under that or just a bra?"
 

"I'm not coming. I need some sleep. I know, I know, I am a lazy bum. I suck"
 

"You don't suck, you ran a marathon girl!"
 

"Yeah but you are incredibly consistent, unlike me"
 

"I know, isn't she? She never misses a day!"

"Yeah, but who's the one who managed to lose 10lbs???"

 

 

The poor guy didn't know what he was getting himself into when he accepted the invitation to our group chat, but he truly is a good sport and plays along. He is our guardian angel, always running back and forth to check on us in the pre-dawn darkness. 

  

Yup, it is dark now when we run. Fall is in the nippy air, dry leaves and those chestnut burrs I already mentioned recently crunch under our sneakers as we jog.
 

Autumn has come, with its lovely array of seasonal fruits and vegetables.
 

 

 

 

 

Pumpkin is definitely a favorite of mine and I like it prepared in pretty much any manner. My daughter, however, has recently developed a dislike for it because she finds the sweetness overpowering, so I have been looking for ways to use it without its flavor being too overbearing because pumpkins and squash are so filled with antioxidants and vitamins.

 

This vegetarian (or actually vegan) curry is ideal: it is packed with flavor yet delicate, the pumpkin adding creamy texture, the perfect vehicle to absorb all the spices and heat. My daughter didn't even notice the pumpkin until, during her second helping,
 I admitted it was actually one of the main ingredients. She made a disgusted faced, then shrugged and went on eating.

  

The curry paste I used as a base is a loose adaptation of a Jamie Oliver korma paste recipe.

 

 

 

 

If, on the other hand, you like pumpkin as much as I do and want its flavor to really shine through, here are some links to other favorite recipes.

 

 

Libyan Tershi pumpkin dip

 

 

 

 

Pumpkin gnocchi

 

 

Pasta with roasted butternut squash, kelemata olives and feta cheese

 

 

 

Oriental wisdom soup

 

 

 

 Pumpkin cinnamon rolls

 

 

 

 

Streusel pumpkin muffins with maple cream cheese filling

 

 

 

 

 

*This in not an exact transcript, forgive the poetic licence. I tried to catch the essence of endless texts into a few sentences. A few, however, are pretty accurate.

Of love and of loss - Chicken Tikka Masala

 

 

This has been an extraordinary week, and as I start writing this post it is only halfway through.

 

Extraordinary as in "out of the ordinary" not " unusually great".

 

F and I spent the first two days of it sitting sweat-drenched in stiff, ceremonial outfits in the midst of a heatwave.
 

On Monday we wore the colors of mourning to say goodbye to an old friend. Needless to say, his departure was unexpected, shocking, painful and happened much too soon.

 

It is very different when you bid your farewell to a person that has lived a long, rich life. It is still extremely sad, but you know it is their time, it is part of the circle of life.

 

When, on the other hand, you sit in a pew surrounded by all the people who were a part of your formative years and you see grown men (and women) cry their eyes out, something is very wrong. You almost hear an unfinished life coming to a screaching halt. There is just grief, no comprehension. You feel the weight of injustice on your shoulders; as the priest talks you remember facial expressions, words said, moments spent together that had gone lost somewhere in your subconscious. While you sit in that church it seems everyone is suddenly a good friend... no, your best friend. You are all connected on an intimate level, you share that pain. Everyone has an air of empathy and well meaning. You mentally promise each other you will never forget, you will share the precious memories, you will be better friends, companions, parents, children from now on. You hug, you exchange tissues and bare a part of your soul you usually never let anyone see. And even if you pretend not to notice them, you feel the cold fingers of fear creaping up around your hairline at the mere thought that it could have been you. For days after you spend large amounts of your time being incredibly aware of and thankful for the beauty that surrounds you.

 

So yes, that was Monday.

Raw from the experience of the previous day and a tad unwilling, on Tuesday we donned the colors of summer. I stepped into a flowy, light dress and F replaced his somber tie with a bright one. We didn't even turn on the radio on the drive up to the wedding, our hearts were so heavy. Then, as we neared the mountains and crossed the border into another country, our mood got lighter and we started feeling almost elated.

The sky was blue, the lake sparkled in the sun and the beauty of the landscape enchanted us. Once more we silently thanked someone/something for the breathtaking world we live in.
 

It did us good to see a new family being created after seeing a broken family the day before. It is good for the soul to counterbalance salty tears of grief with the sweeter ones of sentiment. It soothes to see love, to see different cultures, religions, races come together instead of clashing. It helps to be reminded by an exchange of rings, or an email (you know who you are, thank you), how much love there is in the world and how brief our journey through it is.

 

 

It was wonderful to dig our feet into the sand, to see the white of a wedding day spruced up by the bright, warm colors of Africa. Hips in vibrant prints jiggled to the beat of drums, we did the conga to '80s disco music and during the cutting of the cake, an ancient song bid peace to be upon us. Evenu shalom alejem.
 
I felt guilty on my way to the wedding, like I was not  mourning my friend appropriately. But now I know I did what he loved most: I celebrated the awesomeness that is life, in good and bad. I celebrated friendship, I drank champagne, I danced barefoot in the sand. And by doing this I celebrated his life too.

This one is for you, my friend.

 

 

Indian cooking is a bit like life: a mix of contrasting ingredients and flavors. Spicy, sour, sweet, cool earthy. It is all about balacing these flavors to reach the sublime.

I used to be really intimidated by the enormous list of ingredients most Indian recipes require, but the truth is that once you invest in the basic, pantry-friendly range of spices called for, many favorites are just at an arm's reach.

Recipe from Indiaphile

Tomato chickpea soup with roasted cumin

Where is the time going? Another crazy week at work has come and gone, hand in hand with more snow and another child at home with the flu since yesterday.

A few random questions I have been asking myself in the past days:

Who knew that picking up a report card as a parent would be almost as excruciating an experience? This week my oldest child got her first report card and I’m telling you, that walk down the hall, sitting in front of the classroom waiting to be judged, that feeling of dread, insecurity all came back in a flash. Except this time it involved someone I love more than I loved myself way back when, so multiply it by 100.

When did my children’s social life get more active than mine? I used to be out on the town almost every night of the week and between you and me, partying did not involve toy stores, runny noses, drop-offs and soggy layer cake.

Why is everybody surprised I am still riding my bike in sub zero temperatures? If you ask me it is much warmer biking than standing for ten minutes at a bus stop. And besides, entire countries function daily in this kind of weather.

So, as I mentioned above, temperatures are still below zero here in Italy. This is a dish that works perfectly on our side of the equator, to warm the body and soul but it also works well in the summer heat served at room temperature with a nice dollop of cool yogurt or cream. The recipe I followed actually described this as a quick soup to be made with precooked (or canned) chickpeas, so cooking times were much shorter than mine. Nonetheless, I feel this kind of soup benefits from longer cooking on low heat. Also, the next time I make this I think I will sauté some chopped garlic and onion in the pot before adding the spices and the tomato base.

Jamie Oliver's curry

We spent most of Saturday backing up all of our digital photos on the new external hard drive we purchased and downloading tons of our old CDs onto my iPod. We have been meaning to do this for months, years actually, and somehow never got around to it. CDs and back-up DVDs fill entire drawers of our apartment. Isn't it weird that before all this technology we just had photographs and negatives, yet we did not live in constant fear of losing them? I mean, let's face it, paper is certainly more delicate then a hard drive, a DVD/CD or even the forerunner, the good 'ole floppy disk. Despite this, we never seemed worried about fires, burglars or a flood destroying all those special moments captured on film. Now I constantly think about what would happen if we lost all those precious mementos of our travels and our children growing up because of a theft or a simple tech problem. I still feel the need to print them out, because there is nothing like flipping through an actual photo album and because somehow the printed rectangle of paper seems safer than a small piece of plastic that contains my life.

So, anyhow, six hours later I was feeling pretty darn good about myself, until not one, but two girlfriends told me in rapid succession that they have two external hard disks: a portable one they take on their trips for safe keeping in case of theft or damage and to keep backing up whilst away from home and a larger one at home as their real back up.

So I am an old fart, there it is, plain and simple. I am not as savvy as I thought I was. I thought I was doing pretty well thanks to my techy husband, his knowledge and gifts. Thanks to my blog, my iPhone, my iPod, my Kindle, my digital cameras, plasma screens and so forth. I tweet, I Skype, I download Apps, I do FB. You name it, I've been there and done it. Or so I thought. The truth is, I was really only ahead of the game when I was 12, when I had to help my Nana set up her VCR, when I was a Space Invaders champ, when a Walk Man was the natural extension of my arm. I was still pretty much up there when I got my first Palm Pilot and snubbed my trustworthy Filofax, or when I could send a text message at the speed of light when most Americans didn't even own a cell phone yet. But now, I am my grandmother. Even my own mother is more high tech than I am these days. My father-in-law let me use his iPad last week end in Elba and my iPhone is his hand-me-down.

And there I was feeling good about my external hard drive and downloading the hundreds of CDs the rest of the world downloaded on their iPod about five years ago.

Another thing I was feeling good about was this curry.

I admit it, making curry is still new and exciting to me. Not cooking things with curry, I mean actually making it from scratch. It turns out it is pretty darn quick to make and easy too and I still can't get over the fact that I made this dish exclusively using household staples. Ok, so many of you are probably thinking turmeric isn't really a staple in their house, but believe me, if you stock up on the basic spices of Indian cuisine you can use them for endless recipes. They are pretty inexpensive (luckily this isn't the Middle Ages) and they keep for a long time if stored correctly. I came up with this great meal with a desperately empty fridge. Luckily I had a chicken breast in the freezer.

This curry is adapted from one of Jamie Oliver's many curry recipes. I know it is not the most authentic curry recipe, but Jamie has a way of making those of us who are not experts or who do not have an Indian mum feel a little less intimidated. I was missing a couple of the ingredients (lentils and red pepper) and kept it pretty mild for the kids, but it took only an hour to prep and cook and tasted fabulous.

But then again, maybe you have been making your own curry from scratch for years.

You will need a food processor or hand blender to make this.