• A Leftover Creation

    The other day when I was still on a zippy high after my foray into apples and rosemary, I created a new pizza. Now, I don’t know if much can be invented in the way of pizza what with the already too-many-to-count crust recipes and topping combinations, but I daresay that I have quite possibly chipped a little hole in the glass ceiling of pizza possibilities. Among the tools used to make that little hole were curried pumpkin, sausage, and apples.

    This may look like a complicated recipe, but please do not be dismayed. There is lots of room for working ahead. And actually, I just created this dish at the last minute, off the top of my head, as I pulled the leftovers out of the refrigerator and freezer. I had the soup in the fridge and the browned sausage in the freezer and only had to caramelize the onion, grate the cheese, and saute the apples. So, make the soup for supper tonight, and then a couple days later (or months, if you freeze the leftovers), you can whip up this spanking new pizza.


    I ate the leftover pizza for breakfast and lunch the following day, and, the day after that, for breakfast. I just kept the leftovers on a plate on the counter, no refrigeration necessary, and heated up each piece in the microwave for about 15 seconds. The leftovers were excellent on day two, but by day three the crust was getting a little soggy.


    Pizza with Curried Pumpkin Sauce, Sausage, Apples, Caramelized Onions, and Sharp Cheddar

    1/2-1 cup leftover curried pumpkin soup (see below)
    2 cups sharp cheddar, grated
    1 cup mozzarella cheese, grated
    1-2 cups bulk sausage, browned
    4 apples, cored, peeled, sliced
    1 large onion, cut into thin rings
    1 recipe pizza dough

    For the curried pumpkin soup:
    Saute a chopped onion and some diced celery in some olive oil. Add 1-2 tablespoons curry powder. In a separate kettle, boil (in water) a large handful of unpeeled fingerling potatoes and 1 or 2 diced carrots. Add the drained, cooked veggies to the curry mixture. Add a couple cups of cooked pumpkin, and two or three cups of chicken broth (I used turkey gravy). Puree the whole mixture with your handy-dandy immersion blender. Add salt and pepper to taste, and a cup of cream or milk. Heat on medium-low heat. The soup should be fairly thick.


    To serve, garnish with any of the following: yogurt, sour cream, grated cheese, chives, parsley. Make sure you reserve one cup of the soup, or divide the soup into one-cup containers and freeze, for the pizza recipe.

    To assemble the pizza:
    Saute the apples in a little butter till tender but still firm, about ten minutes. Set aside.

    Saute the onion in some olive oil until dark, golden brown, about 20-30 minutes. (See here for more detailed instructions.) Set aside.

    Roll/press out one large pizza crust (I divided the recipe of pizza dough into two balls and rolled the crusts out thin—one was for the kids’ cheese pizza and the other was for this recipe). Spread the curried pumpkin soup over the crust. Sprinkle on some of the grated cheese. Distribute the browned sausage, then the sauteed apples, and finally the caramelized onion. Sprinkle the remainder of the cheese over all, and bake at 450 degrees for 10-15 minutes.

  • Signs, News, and Daydreams

    Writer’s block.

    I feel better now that I wrote that. Because I wrote it.

    I sometimes get this way. I don’t write for a day or two and then I have a build-up of ideas and I can’t sort through them and choose what to write about so I don’t write anything at all. And then I feel worse.

    I’m tempted to write another Splat post. Maybe I’ll start a series of splats. Just every once in a while I will write down everything and anything that comes to mind—a brain-purging exercise. Then I would, hopefully, be able to breathe easier and, for a period of time, at least, write posts in a more calm and rational manner.

    But I’d feel bad for you, my poor readers, who’d be left to sift through the riff-raff of my brain. Making you struggle through the murky mire of my mental state just wouldn’t be right. Or fair.

    So, as a compromise, and in a superhuman act of self-restraint, I will exorcize myself of only two or three thoughts. The rest I will write down on paper and then burn, if I feel the need.

    1. After three different tries over the past several weeks, I finally, just yesterday, tracked down the person who was “selling” political yard signs. After a semi-complicated game of phone tag, we finally got to talk to each other directly and he gave me directions (yes, I was talking on the cell phone while driving) to where I could meet him. He was waiting in his sticker-covered pick-up truck when I pulled up. I bought two signs; one for now, and the other for when the first sign gets stolen.

    2. I don’t normally like to talk about things I’ll be doing in the future because there is always the chance that I won’t do it and I don’t like to disappoint, but I’m breaking my rule to tell you this bit of very exciting news: One of the political candidates, who’s sign is in my yard, is coming to town this week! Yo-Yo, Miss Becca Boo, and I are going to go midday and camp out all afternoon in order to get good seats. I figure this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance, as well as our history/current events lesson for the year.

    3. The other day when I was putting The Baby Nickel down for a nap, I had this following daydream: The aforementioned political candidate’s entourage was driving to town and one of the staff members called me to say that they needed a place to stop for dinner and could I please feed them? They would be there in fifteen minutes.

    Oh dear! What could I possibly feed them?

    I quickly ruled out fancy stuff—lack of time. And no meat—it would take too long to thaw and cook.

    And then I realized what I would do: I would pull out a bag of last year’s Roma green beans, a bag of my parents’ white sweet corn, some fingerling potatoes, a quart of the canned Lodi applesauce, some homemade jam and a loaf of bread. There is still chard in the garden, so I could cook up a big skillet of greens. For dessert I would turn to the freezer again for red raspberries and strawberries, and I could open jars of peaches and sweet cherries.

    What could be better, and fancier, than just the simple stuff from the garden, cooked up and served in its most basic form? Now that would be worthy of a king, er, president-to-be (hopefully).

  • Interrupting Myself

    I was going to wax eloquent about homeschooling today, but I am instead interrupting my program to bring you a recipe for an apple tart. It can not wait until tomorrow. I must get this recipe off my chest and into your hands immediately. It’s an emergency.


    This is one of Orangette’s recipes. I love Orangette. Yes, I know I had that little falling out with her over chocolate chip cookies, but now, after this tart, all is forgiven. Totally forgiven. Peace and goodwill reigneth. We are bosom buddies forevermore. If she were to walk into my house right now I would kiss her feet. And then offer her a piece of tart. Then she would kiss my feet, of course. Because we are bosom buddies.

    Orangette said this tart was simple, but then her instructions were about a mile long causing me to get a case of the silent inner tummy chuckle twitches. However, I will admit that her clear, precise instructions are what make her recipes so easy to follow, and so trustworthy. I’m cutting down on the verbage in this post (this is an emergency after all), so if you need more explanation, please do click on over to her site.

    Basically, all you do is make a butter crust which you roll out into a rectangle and then you lay the apple slices on the crust, sprinkle the apples with sugar, and bake the tart. Afterwards you brush the cooled tart with a strained sugar, water, and apple-core glaze. So, you see, it really is a simple recipe.


    I followed her instructions almost to a T, but not quite. I was feeling a little frisky, so I replaced some of the water with apple cider, and then, get this, I added a sprig of rosemary! I don’t normally do things like that—dashing uncalled for herbs into glazes is just not my style, and I almost never presume to improve an Orangette-endorsed recipe. But my oh my—that fragrant green sprig made me feel so high-end and classy that I’ll probably start sticking it in everything! My nose, my ears… just kidding.

    Another thing: I’m pretty much sold on this butter crust.

    Just one more thing: One of Orangette’s commenters suggested adding grated cheese to the butter crust.

    Eh-hem. Stay with me here, please: If you don’t add the rosemary, you could add some freshly grated nutmeg to the butter crust and then simmer the apple cores with a stick of cinnamon…

    Apple Tart with Cider-Rosemary Glaze
    Adapted from Orangette

    For the crust:
    1/4 cup cold water
    3/4 teaspoon cider vinegar
    3/4 teaspoon salt
    1 tablespoon sugar
    1 ½ cups flour
    9 tablespoons cold butter, cut into chunks

    Put the dry ingredients and the butter into a food processor and process until you have a dry, crumbly mixture. While the processor is running, slowly add the liquid through the feed tube—the crumbly mixture should almost immediately come together to make a ball of dough. On a piece of plastic wrap, press the dough into a disk, wrap well with more plastic, and refrigerate for at least thirty minutes.

    When you are ready to assemble the tart, roll the dough out onto an ungreased baking pan, roughly forming a 11 x 16 inch rectangle.

    Peel, core, and slice six or seven tart apples, reserving the cores for the glaze (just set them aside in a little saucepan). Lay the apples slices in tidy rows on the dough. Fold the edges of the dough over to make a crust, or else pinch them up to make a little wall. Sprinkle the apples with a couple teaspoons of sugar (I used Demerara).

    Bake the tart at 375 degrees for 25 -35 minutes.

    For the glaze:
    3/4 cup sugar
    ½ cup water
    ½ cup apple cider, optional (if not using the cider, increase both the water and the sugar to one full cup each)
    small sprig of rosemary
    the reserved apple cores, optional (if not using the cores, use one whole cup of apple cider and omit the water entirely)

    Combine all the ingredients, except for the rosemary, in a little sauce pan and simmer over medium heat until the liquid has reduced by about half—it should take about 30 minutes or so. Add the sprig of rosemary for the last minute. Pour the glaze through a sieve and brush over the cooled tart.


    Note: Orangette did not comment upon whether or not it was imperative to consume the tart immediately after glazing, but I can report that while the glaze (and I only used about half of the mixture—I see another tart in my near future) did soften the crust a little, it did not take away from the crispy-buttery texture. In other words, wait to glaze the tart till you will serve it, but leftovers will be absolutely fine.