Fall Pizza with Sage Pesto, Roasted Butternut Squash, Goat Cheese and Prosciutto

Rainy days make me crave a lot of things. Most of which involve fire places and blankets and hot tea.

But today, tea just won't cut it.

Let me tell you about this pizza.

This isn't your typical pizza.

See, all of the years I spent with my Italian grandmother--and you know, the frequency with which I cook Italian food--mean that sometimes, you have to think outside the box.

Don't get me wrong. I love me some spaghetti with marinara sauce and some plain old margarita pizzas. But what a lot of people fail to realize is that pasta and pizza don't only come in one form. They can be some of the most versatile foods. No, really, I swear.

This go around, I wanted it to feel like Fall... in my mouth. Okay, that sounded weird, even to me.

I'll try again. I love fall, the colors and the flavors and the smell of it all. So when it's cold and dreary outside, sometimes it's nice to be reminded of what you like about this season. The caramelized onions, the roasted butternut squash, the warm creamy goat cheese, the sweet hint of nutmeg, the smooth taste of sage, the crisp bite of salty prosciutto. 

Dear god this pizza is good.

Fall Pizza with Sage Pesto, Roasted Butternut Squash, Goat Cheese and Prosciutto
adapted form here.
Serves 4-6

1 batch of Whole Wheat Pizza Dough

1/2 cup fresh sage leaves, torn1/4 cup toasted pine nuts4 tablespoons olive oil2 tablespoons finely grated parmesan cheese1 1/2 cups butternut squash, cut into small cubes1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, divided1/4 teaspoon salt1/4 teaspoon pepper1/8 teaspoon nutmeg1 red onion, thinly sliced6 thin slices prosciutto, torn8 ounces fresh mozzarella, shredded 
8 ounces goat cheese, sliced and crumbled

Prepare whole wheat pizza dough and let rise. 

Preheat oven to 375.

While dough is rising, combine sage, pine nuts, grated parmesan cheese, and olive oil in a food processor and blend until combined and smooth. Set aside.

Toss butternut squash with 1 tablespoon olive oil, salt, pepper and nutmeg. Place in one flat layer on baking sheet and roast for about 30 minutes or until tender/soft to the touch. Set aside. 

In a skillet, add the other 1/2 tablespoon of olive oil and onion, sauté until caramelized, stirring occasionally, for 15-20 minutes. 

Once dough has risen and you are ready to assemble pizza, spread pesto all the dough--use as little or as much as you like. I love sage so we used the whole batch. Add butternut squash, onions, and mozzarella. Top with torn prosciutto pieces and goat cheese. Sprinkle with parmesan or sage leaves as optional garnishes. Bake for 25-30 minutes.

Chewy Apple Oatmeal Cookies with Cinnamon Glaze

Sometimes my taste in food makes absolutely no sense.

Exhibit A: for most of my childhood I hated avocados. Yet somehow, that never stopped me from eating, and enjoying, guacamole.

Which, yes, has onion and lime and cilantro and a bevy of other ingredients, but, for the most part is still just... a giant bowl of mashed avocado.

I also kind of hated oatmeal. I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about it actually. 

It's not the taste so much as the texture that throws me for a loop every time I think I want a bowl in the morning. It's just so... mushy. 

AND YET: I have always loved oatmeal cookies.

The logic behind this is that, as a rule of thumb, oatmeal cookies are generally pretty soft. 

See, I'm not a fan of overly crunchy cookies. 

Thus, although it's not a guarantee, I'd rather go for the usually soft and chewy oatmeal raisin, then the gamble of a chocolate chip cookie that, despite looking deliciously chewy, may or may not be hard enough to chip a tooth.

And since it's fall, and I like pretending that adding chunks of fruit to my dessert makes it healthy (which, it totally does)--I thought it would be fun to spice things up and trade out the raisins for fresh apples.

The tart, juicy burst of flavor from the apples is just perfect in the midst of the chewy, oatmeal of the dough. Plus, since there's wonderfully nutritious fruit in them... you might as well have another.

Chewy Apple Oatmeal Cookies with Cinnamon Glaze
Makes 3 dozen cookies

1 cup butter, at room temperature
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
3 cups old fashioned rolled oats
1 granny smith apple, chopped (about 3/4 cup)

Preheat oven to 350.

In a large mixing bowl, whip together the butter and both sugars until smooth. Add the vanilla and eggs, mixing until combined.

In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. Add the dry ingredients to the mixture inside the mixing bowl gradually, mixing until combined. Stir in the oats and apples.

Place rounded tablespoonfuls of the dough onto baking sheets. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until golden brown in color.

Cinnamon Glaze
1 cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

Combine all ingredients and whisk together. Drizzle over cooled cookies.

Sautéed Chicken with Rosemary Cream Sauce

Sometimes you just need some comfort food.

Usually, for me, that comfort food is pasta. But this week I decided I'd spice life up a little. 

Think outside of my own box for a minute, which is usually a box of spaghetti, let's be honest here. 

Most of the time, when life gets me down, I turn to my tried and true friend: Carbs. Hence, you know, pasta. But this also applies to good old fashioned rice too. 

Sometimes I just want a bowl of plain white rice with a side of... nothing, actually. Just the rice. Don't judge.

Some people might say a bowl of white rice is neither a healthy nor a balanced meal. They would be... totally right. God, so very right. 

But that doesn't make it any less appealing. So my solution was not to eliminate the rice, but just... add to it. 

And that's where this chicken came in. 

I'm pretty sure chicken has to be my favorite meat. Not because it's the most amazing. Which, don't get me wrong, it's pretty darn tasty, but a fillet mignon will always be a fillet mignon.

It's my favorite because it's just one of those things you can make in literally any way--boil, sauté, bake, roast, barbecue. 

And it really does go with any meal. I swear. Making pasta? Add chicken. Making a sandwich? Add chicken. Making an omelet? Add chicken. The list goes on. 

Today I just wanted some rice. But what I got was so much better. What I got was a warm plate of rosemary, creamy, savory, sautéed goodness (and rice, obviously.... and, you know, a salad. Boo.) 

Huh. I ended up with a balanced meal after all, who'd've thunk. 

Sautéed Chicken With Rosemary Cream Sauce

Serves 2

1 tablespoon olive oil 

2 chicken breasts

salt and pepper

1/2 cup green onions

1 clove garlic, minced

1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, chopped

1/3 cup dry white wine

1/2 cup chicken broth

1/4 cup heavy cream

Season chicken breasts with salt and pepper. Heat oil over medium-high heat in a nonstick skillet. Add chicken and sauté for 3-4 minutes on each side or until lightly browned. 

Add the green onions, garlic, and rosemary cook for a 30 seconds or so. Add the white wine and continue cooking for 1-2 minutes. Add the broth, cook for an additional 1-2 minutes or until chicken is cooked through. Stir in the heavy cream and continue cooking for another 2 minutes. Garnish with additional green onions if desired and serve hot.  

Butternut Squash Ravioli with Sage Brown Butter Sauce

We've all had those days when you go to tick a task of a to-do list and you think... Hey, this doesn't seem too bad, I'm sure I'll be done in what? 15 minutes, for sure.

Then, two hours later, when you're still sweating over that Ikea desk that's definitely not assembled completely, and most certainly not assembled correctly, you start to rethink that statement.

Yeah. That's kind of what this whole ravioli making thing was like for me. 

Ikea Products, meet Ravioli. 

You have a lot in common... what with you both being fairly tedious and majorly time consuming to construct. Luckily you're delicious... Well, not you, Ikea Products. Just the Ravioli. Sorry.

Patience is a virtue that I do not have. I have already shared this with you all.

Making ravioli is not tremendously difficult (especially if you use these fantastic wonton wrappers) but it involves a process that is intricate and repetitive. And thus, it involves a hefty dose of patience. Unsurprisingly, none of these would make it on a list of my favorite things.

The secret to surviving the repetitiveness, however, is to find a rhythm.

Turn the music up, get your groove on, get a rhythm going. 

Pretty soon its just a matter of fill, brush, seal, press. Repeat. Fill, brush, seal, press, repeat. Fill, brush, seal--you get the idea.

Plus, just keep in mind: IT. IS. SO. WORTH. IT.

Not only is the end result delicious, but it makes you feel like a kitchen champ. It makes you want to brag about your amazing pasta skills. It makes you want to pump your fist with pride...Jersey Shore style.

So, as you're pressing the edges of your 12th ravioli and thinking, misguidedly, that after all this work you must be on at least, like, what? Number 42. At least. As your doing all that, just focus on the feeling your going to get as you bite into the soft ravioli shell and taste that first hint of melted cheese and warm butternut squash all bathed in brown butter.... Ravioli, I have conquered you. Impatience be damned.

Now who wants to help me build that Ikea desk sitting in the corner over there? Really, no takers?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Butternut Squash Ravioli
Serves 4-6
1 tablespoon butter
3/4 cup shallots, diced
2 cloves garlic
1 cup butternut squash puree (if it is already seasoned, disregard next 2 ingredients)
1/4 teaspoon brown sugar
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup ricotta cheese
1/4 cup grated parmesan

1 (12oz) package wonton wrappers--should consist of about 50 wrappers
1-2 egg whites, beaten

Heat butter in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add shallots and garlic and cook until shallots are translucent and fragrant, this should take just a few minutes. Add butternut squash puree (if it is not already seasoned, add the brown sugar, nutmeg, salt and pepper). Stir frequently until mixture begins to thicken and look slightly less liquid. Remove from heat, add ricotta and parmesan, stir until combined. Let cool completely.

Place small teaspoon sized dollop of mixture into the middle of each wonton wrapper. Brush outside edges of wrapper with egg white, as well as the edges of the wrapper to be placed on top--this will act as a sealant. Press edges with fork or other utensils to ensure they do not separate.

Place each ravioli onto baking sheet to dry. Let dry for 30 minutes or so, flipping about halfway through. While the ravioli dry, bring a large pot of water to a boil. Reduce to simmer and add ravioli in batches--cooking each batch for 3-4 minutes or until tender. Remove with slotted spoon. Serve hot.

Sage Brown Butter Sauce with Pine nuts
5-6 tablespoons butter
1-2 tablespoons fresh sage, chopped
1/8 cup pine nuts
salt and pepper to taste

Heat butter over medium heat in a nonstick skillet. Once butter has melted and begun to bubble, add sage and pine nuts, stirring continuously to avoid burning of the butter or pine nuts. Cook for 1-2 minutes or until pine nuts have begun to look toasted and butter has reduced/turned brownish in color. Drizzle over ravioli.

Hot Buttered Rum

Sometimes you just have to start your day off right with a nice stiff drink.... I mean. Um. End your day with a nice stiff drink. I definitely don't condone indulging in alcoholic beverages in the mornings. Except for Bloody Marys. And Irish Coffee. And, you know, Mimosas. 

Okay, I think I've gotten off track here.

My point is: sometimes you just need a nice stiff drink, whatever time of day it may be. Don't worry, I won't tell.

Most of the time, however, when I think of cocktails, they're all fairly geared towards warm-weather scenarios. Tequila sunrises, gin and tonics, mojitos and margaritas... All these kinds of drinks just make me mourn for those summer days lying on the beach on a hot afternoon or at least, you know, those days where the sun stays out past, I don't know, 6 pm maybe.

When it's raining, or snowing, or even just plain nippy out--a spritz of fresh lime still sounds refreshing, don't get me wrong, but it just doesn't quite have that same mouth-watering appeal that it did back in July.

That's where this fall, or dare I say, winter cocktail comes in. Oh god, with the hot. and the buttered. and the rum. and the hot. and the cinnamon. and the hot. So rich and warm and delicious. Sign. Me. Up.

So put the lime away for a minute, pack up the beach towels, instead, pour yourself a glass of warm fall comfort and sit yourself down by the fireplace. Come on, it's been a long week. You deserve it.

Hot Buttered Rum
Serves 2

2 teaspoons brown sugar
2 pats butter
4oz rum
1-2 cups boiling water (depending on how strong you like your drink)
optional: nutmeg, cinnamon, cinnamon sticks

Place 1 teaspoon brown sugar and 1 pat of butter at the bottom of each cup. Add the rum. Then pour half of the boiling water into each cup. Sprinkle with nutmeg and cinnamon if desired. Garnish with cinnamon stick. Serve hot.  

Hum's Marinara Sauce

At her funeral, the priest cries. 

At first it just sounds like he's laughing, with those weird little choking noises he makes. It’s not until I see the fat tears roll down his cheeks in the middle of his eulogy that I realize what the noises mean. 

This is what she did to people. This is what she made them feel.

Many people have helped me come to love cooking. My grandmother made me fall in love with it.

Many people say that a meal is nothing more than its ingredients, a recipe is nothing more than the steps you take to put them together. I don't believe this. She sure as hell didn't either.

A recipe is the person who made it. It is the people they share it with. 

It is warmth of a kitchen and the smell of sautéing and the feeling of comfort and a pride in creativity.

This sauce has no recipe, not really. What it has is something that cannot be memorized, but must be felt. It has intuition. It has patience. It is a pinch more basil, a bit more caramelized with those onions there, and a little lower on the heat. It is me as a girl standing at my grandmother’s side, tugging at her apron, “Are the onions brown enough yet? Can we add the tomatoes now?”

“No, Elizabeth.”

“How about now?”

“Elizabeth, I know you know they’re not ready.”

“Now? They look ready. I think they’re ready.”

“Elizabeth.” Just my name, said around a smirk and followed with an eyebrow raise. “Not. Yet.”

I say that I love pasta, that’s not what I mean. 

Okay, that’s definitely what I mean. 

But what I also mean is that I love more than just marinara. I love the woman who taught me what it means to give the people you love a meal that they love. How good that feeling is. That feeling of creating something that’s mine. 

It is the confidence and the comfort and the memories.  

It is cold tile against my bare feet. It is flour in my hair, the smell of olive oil on my skin. It is feeling without thinking. It is creating without measuring. It is one of the greatest gifts I have ever gotten.

I come over after school on a Friday afternoon. 

I tell her about being late to 4th period and my History test and how I had to walk around all day with the back of my skirt wet after I sat too close to the fountain at lunch. She tells me which relative called to catch up and that the refrigerator is making those odd clicking noises again. 

I roll up the sleeves of my uniform jacket. I slip out of my shoes and into one of her aprons. It smells like her shampoo and the last time we made that strawberry pie at the end of August.

We are close enough that our aprons brush against each other when we move, close enough that I can smell the garlic on her fingers, see the wrinkles move around her eyes. We are mostly quiet. Everyone will be coming over soon, disrupting the moment, lifting the lid and tasting the too-hot sauce with fingers that aren't washed, asking when dinner’ll be ready.  

“Don’t forget to stir the sauce, Elizabeth. You don’t want it to burn on the bottom.”

“Grandma, I know. I make this all the time. I won’t.”

She wipes her hands on her apron. “Oh, you know do you?”

“Duh, Grandma.”

“Well, good. I’ll leave you to it then.”

Hum’s Marinara Sauce

1 large onion, chopped

2  large cloves garlic, minced

extra virgin olive oil

1 (28 oz) can tomato puree

1-2 large pinches dried basil

1 large pinch dried oregano

salt and pepper

Place a large saucepot over medium to medium-high heat. Drizzle olive oil over bottom to create a light coat. Add the onions, and sauté for a few minutes. Add the garlic and continue sautéing until the onions are well done (caramelized and very brown in color), stirring frequently and adding more oil if the onions stick.  

Add the tomato puree and a small amount of water (fill the can about ¼- ½ full and swirl to remove remaining tomato, then poor into the pot). Add a large pinch of basil, a pinch of oregano, salt and pepper. Let simmer for 30 minutes or longer with the lid on, stirring occasionally to avoid burning. Taste, adding additional seasoning as necessary.