Chili Power

Drunken Lentil and Pumpkin Chili

My 15-month-old son rides the airwaves. The little channel surfer makes it impossible for either of us to watch a show, constantly turning the channels from PBS' Dinosaur Train, creating a cacophony of radio frequency activity. I rarely get to see more than a couple seconds of any given show, but it keeps him busy so I rarely care.

A few days ago, as the channels whirled by, I saw the words "Drunken Pumpkin-Black Lentil Chili" printed on the screen. Whoa buddy. Stop right there. I was able to see about three seconds of the Today broadcast and Googled it to find the recipe. The show featured Souper Jenny, who runs an awesome cafe in Atlanta, Georgia. Has anyone ever flown to Atlanta for soup? I am seriously considering it. 

Here is a link to her restaurant: http://www.souperjennyatl.com/

There was no picture attached for the recipe on the Today website about Souper Jenny's awesome chili, and without a picture, it's not really satisfying to Pin it. So I made it, took pictures and here it is. Pin away.

What intrigued me most about this chili is its use of delicata squash.

It's one of those cool looking ones you always see at the grocery store but don't quite know what to do with. Mystery solved. It's a lot like butternut squash, but you can eat the skin, too.

So here is Souper Jenny's Drunken Black Lentil and Pumpkin Chili, minus the black lentils and using green lentils instead because that is what I had. Serves eight.

2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil

1 large sweet yellow onion, peeled and chopped

4 cloves garlic, chopped

1 large zucchini, chopped

1 large yellow squash, chopped

1 delicata squash, seeded and chopped (no need to peel!)

2 tablespoons chili powder

1 tablespoon cumin

2 15 ounce cans pumpkin

2 cups black lentils (I used green lentils)

2 28 ounce cans chopped tomatoes

2 12 ounce beers (I used a Blue Moon Winter Abbey Ale)

Heat your soup pot. Add oil and heat for 30 seconds. Saute onions and garlic until soft. Add squash, zucchini, delicata squash, chili powder and cumin and stir. Saute for 5-10 minutes. 

Add lentils, tomato, beer and pumpkin.

Simmer and keep stirring for 45-60 minutes. You may add water if the chili gets thicker than you like. This is particularly a good idea if reheating leftovers. At the table, we added everything from hot sauce to feta or colby jack. 

And as I always do, I rocked. It seemed fitting to add Smashing Pumpkins to the night's playlist. We've been listening to a lot of Lithium on Sirius/XM, which is such a strange flashback at times. The '90s just don't seem that long ago to already be retro and have a special station dedicated to the decade's hits. Those of us in our 40s and older now have an oldies station that we think is cool. We are officially our parents.

Smashing Pumpkins were sort of a fluke. They were so different than most of the bands at the time, which makes them even more perfect for this chili that not only omits beans, but meat as well—and yet it calls itself chili. It's scrumptious, so everyone has let that slide.

The band crammed its songs with heaps of fuzzy guitar with equal parts rock, psychedelic and shoegazer and no one seemed to bat a lash. Billy Corgan's band of misfits were lumped in with every other alt rocker of the day, and it was pretty fabulous.

But when I see the bald Corgan, who always struck me as a little too fetus-y, I can't help but think of Naboo from the British cult classic show The Mighty Boosh. 

Naboo

Below is Episode 1, from Season 1 of The Mighty Boosh. You will become addicted to this show. I own the box set. You're welcome.

Strangely, I never even owned a Smashing Pumpkins CD. I never needed to. The music was constantly around one way or another.

I wasn't a huge fan, but looking back I can see the merits of the music beyond the band's personalities, which were volatile, depressive, erratic and at best just weird. Apparently the band, with only Corgan left from the original lineup, released Oceania in June 2012. I missed it.

Julian Barratt (Howard Moon) and Noel Fielding (Vince Noir)

But Smashing Pumpkins were good. So is this chili. And so is The Mighty Boosh. 

Pogue Mahone Cottage Pie

Some people hear the words turnip and rutabaga and turn up their noses at a scrumptious roasted root vegetable dish. 

To them, you can say "Pogue Mahone," and carry on making a roasted root vegetable cottage pie with your leftovers while listening to the London lads themselves. The recipe for the roasted root vegetables is the previous post on this blog. 

The Pogues, famous for their singer Shane MacGowan who is known for being as twisted as his teeth, are a great companion for this twist on a British classic. 

The band was originally called Pogue Mahone, but then the BBC started censoring the band's name. Seemed some Gaelic speakers knew the name was really an Anglicization of the Irish "póg mo thóin," meaning "kiss my arse." Those Pogues. 

Seeing how Christmas just passed, I thought this 1987 Pogues song featuring Kirsty MacColl, "Fairytale of New York," fitting. It's considered one of the best Christmas songs ever in the U.K.

MacGowan co-wrote the ditty about an Irish immigrant on Christmas Eve dreaming of Christmases past while sleeping off a whiskey-fueled stupor in a NYC holding cell for the especially celebratory. When a pissed old man starts singing a passage from the Irish ballad "The Rare Old Mountain Dew," our protagonist begins to dream about the song's female character. 

If you're missing some of the lyrics, click here for the karaoke-style version:

The rest of the song is a call and response between the couple, as they recall their youth wasted on alcohol and drugs between some good old fashioned bickering: "Happy Christmas your arse / I pray God it's our last." 

Result!

But hey, nearly all British people like shepherd's pie, even the Northern Irish, so I am pretty sure they could have agreed on some variation of this dish. Cottage pie goes back to the late 18th century, when potato became king in Ireland, appealing to the less-wealthy, which was nearly everyone at the time. 

The pie consists of taking whatever savory leftovers are in the fridge, dumping mashed potatoes on top and calling it pie. By the 19th century, it was interchangeably known as shepherd's pie. 

Shepherd's pie can be made with nearly any type of meat, but I chose soya crumbles and lentils for a vegetarian version. You can choose whatever you want. 

For this cottage pie, warm up the leftover root vegetables (this recipe is based on a 9-by-13-inch casserole pan of leftovers) in a saute pan, adding a little more olive oil to help them brown a bit. 

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. 

In a large stock pot, boil water. 

Peel and cut about eight potatoes into large slices. Put them in the boiling water and cook until soft. Drain. Dump potatoes into a large kitchen mixer (or use a hand mixer or masher, whatever your preference). 

Add buttermilk, butter and minced garlic to taste. Once blended to preferred consistency, add course country dijon mustard and Colman's English Mustard to taste, along with some grated cheese. 

A vegan version can be made by using olive oil instead of butter and soy milk instead of buttermilk. 

In a separate large stock pot, boil a cup of lentils and cup of soya (if you don't have dried available, buy the frozen kind made by Boca or Morningstar) in a about eight cups of veggie broth. Once the lentils and soya are softened, add the roasted root vegetables. 

Pour lentil-vegetable-soya mixture into a large casserole dish or two (you can freeze one for later). Spread evenly. 

Spoon on the mashed potato mixture. 

Use a fork and drag it across line by line back and forth, making a criss-cross pattern. Sprinkle the top with the remainder of the shredded cheese. 

Stick in the oven. The cottage pie is done when the potatoes are browned a little on top and the sides show gravy bubbling around the corners. 

When serving, you may want to top it with a little vegetarian gravy, either make your own with veggie broth and and corn starch until you get the correct consistency. Be sure to dilute the corn starch in water first. Or buy some mushroom gravy at the store. And don't forget the Guinness. 

Cheers. May your neighbors respect you, trouble neglect you, the angels protect you, and heaven accept you. Happy New Year. 

Root Down

Roasted Root Vegetables (minus the roasting)

Catchy name, eh?

This dish is one of my favorite holiday potluck offerings. The recipe is pretty loose and fairly hard to ruin. I start by buying whatever root vegetables I can find at the market.

Here's the usual lineup:

Sweet potatoes or yams, potatoes, onions, butternut squash, turnips, carrots, parsnips, rutabaga, celeriac and fennel. Plus throw in some fresh garlic.

How much you cut up depends on how much family you have, I suppose. I always make extra because people want to take some with their leftovers, and I like to have some at home, as well. Sometimes I make a Root Vegetable Shepherd's Pie with the leftovers. I will post that recipe next. 

  

Cutting all the vegetables is the hardest part, but it's a great time to pour a glass of wine and crank up the tunes. Fittingly, I chose, you guessed it, The Roots. 

The Roots first caught my attention when they released Things Fall Apart in 1999, named for Nigerian author Chinua Achebe's novel of the same name. This is also a good match for this recipe because of the prevalence of yams in the story. Mmmmm, yams.

The book is one of my favorites, a must-read companion book for anyone taking on Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. They can also then say "The Horror" whenever it lends itself to a snappy punchline. Both are a great precursor to watching Apocalypse Now, as well. 

The stand out song from The Roots' Things Fall Apart was "You Got Me," featuring Erykah Badu and Eve (above). But the song that renewed my love for the Late Night with Jimmy Fallon house band is "The Seed 2.0" featuring Cody Chesnutt. 

I truly never get sick of "The Seed 2.0," because of lyrics like "If Mary dropped my baby girl tonight / I would name her rock 'n roll." I am surprised a couple hasn't named their little girl Rock n Roll yet. I named my son Keith, after Keith Richards. That is pretty much the same thing.

Chop the veggies fairly small, but not diced. A small to medium chop is best so they cook fast. 

The key to this dish is cooking it all on the stove top in a saute pan (or saute pans, depending on your quantity) instead of roasting it in the stove. Or you can do a combination of both. The saute pan just speeds things up, and it cooks more evenly. So feel free to dump it all in a casserole dish or roasting pan and stick it in the oven at the end at 375 degrees.

Start out with olive oil (or nonstick cooking spray) and cook the onions until translucent. Add the garlic and saute for a few minutes, but make sure not to let it burn. Then dump in the veg. Cook and stir, cook and stir, cook and stir until they start to soften. Then add a tablespoon or two of olive oil and let it cook some more.

Add fresh herbs, including thyme, rosemary, oregano and parsley. If you want to use dried herbs, that will work, too. When the tubers, squash and the rest are starting to look a little browned, add basalmic vinegar to taste, plus salt and pepper.








This is what they look like when they are getting close to being done. 

And, here they are when they're ready to transport. I have one of those cool casserole dishes that comes with a heat pack and carrier bag. They are swell for potlucks. I like to eat mine with a side of mashed potatoes and mushroom gravy, along with whatever else is at the buffet. And then I name it Rock 'n Roll, like I will now do for everything that is awesome.