THE THANKSGIVING NIGHTCAP

This isn't your typical Thanksgiving post, I guess. Today I'll be sitting down to some version of the meal we'll all be staring down the table at--and it's kind of comforting in its sameness, isn't it, with all that perfectly bronzed turkey glow, sweet potato predictability and green bean wonderfulness? But I'm not writing a stuffing recipe, or a pumpkin pie or an ode to cranberry sauce (although I looooooove cranberry sauce, with brown sugar and bourbon and orange zest, but that's a story for another day). I'm thinking ahead to the evening after the meal, Thanksgiving night.

After all, something unnatural happens when dinner takes place at three in the afternoon. Maybe you're sitting around, lazily doodling on a crossword or pushing game pieces around on a Settlers of Cataan board (no point in confessing that I'm a huge nerd after a sentence like that, I guess?). Maybe you're having that second, late-night gathering of friends, drifting together after family dinners and goodbyes to toast to the beginning of winter and all things holiday season. No matter where you are or what you're doing.....hunger strikes at ten o'clock that night. What to eat after a day of feasting? I have the solution for you, friends.

When the festivities are over, whether you're standing alone in the kitchen by the glow of the refrigerator light wondering if it's too soon to eat a leftover-turkey-and-mashed-potato sandwich, or whether you're surrounded by board games and late-night friends and holiday stragglers......you need the Thanksgiving Nightcap.

Technically, this is four suggestions in one. Two cocktails, one as buttery warm and soothing as a homemade piece of pumpkin pie, and one as briskly wintery and holiday-tasting as a holly wreath, if a holly wreath were delicious. And two dainty little snacks for in between sipping, one reminiscent of the day's iconic cranberry sauce (made fragrant, like my own cranberry sauce, with a hint of bourbon and orange zest), and one that's like an efficiently bite-sized pecan pie. 

Nobody needs or wants a loaded tray of snacks after a day spent consuming turkey, savory carbs and multiple pie slices, after all. Just a few little bites and a cocktail to send you off to bed feeling full, warm, and thankful. Happy holiday, everyone!

Cranberry Rosemary Cocktail

For the rosemary simple syrup:

1 cup sugar

1 cup water

4 sprigs fresh rosemary

2 oz. cranberry juice

1 oz. gin

1 oz. rosemary syrup

Ice

Fresh rosemary for garnish

Don't forget to make the rosemary simple syrup ahead of time, leaving enough time for it to cool completely. Bring sugar and water just to a boil in a small saucepan, then remove from heat. Roll rosemary sprigs lightly between your palms to release the oils, then submerge in syrup and let steep for 30 minutes. Strain out rosemary leaves, place in fridge to cool. This recipe will make enough for several cocktails, so keep any extra (if it's possible to have leftovers!) in an airtight container for up to three weeks.

Add cranberry juice, gin, rosemary syrup and ice to cocktail shaker, give it a good shake until cold, then strain into cocktail glass. Garnish with a tiny sprig of rosemary, sip & enjoy!

Candied Cranberries

1 1/2 cup sugar, divided

1 tablespoon water

2 tablespoons bourbon

1 cup fresh cranberries

1 teaspoon finely zested orange peel

In a small saucepan, combine 3/4 cup of sugar with water and bourbon. Heat over medium low, stir until dissolved and add cranberries. Let simmer for five minutes, then remove from heat. Pour into heatproof bowl, cover and refrigerate overnight.

Strain cranberries from remaining syrup, then place in a single layer on plate or baking sheet. Sprinkle with remaining 3/4 cup sugar, rolling berries to completely cover in sugar. Place in fridge and let dry for at least an hour (I have even stuck these in the freezer for a similar amount of time, for a really nicely chewy, chilly treat), then snack away!

Bourbon Maple Pumpkin Punch

2 cups milk

1 cup pumpkin puree

1/2 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice, plus more for garnish

1/2 cup maple syrup

1/2 cup (4 oz.) bourbon 

Cinnamon sticks for garnish

The amounts in this recipe make four servings, because when you're going to get all these ingredients together, heat them up and serve them. it might as well be to an adoring crowd! Feel free to adjust the amounts to suit your own gathering, though. 

In a small saucepan, whisk together milk, pumpkin and spices, heat gently over medium heat until steaming. Remove from heat, add maple syrup and bourbon, then immediately pour into four cups. Garnish with a cinnamon stick and a sprinkling of pumpkin pie spice, then serve while hot!

Maple Sea Salt Pecans

1 cup pecan halves

1/4 cup maple syrup

1 teaspoon vegetable oil

1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, then line a baking sheet with parchment paper. In a mixing bowl, toss pecan halves with maple syrup first until completely coated, then add vegetable oil and sea salt and continue to coat. Arrange in a single layer on baking sheet, roast for 20 minutes until pecans are nicely browned and shiny. Remove and let cool slightly, then break up clumps while still warm to make sure that pecans don't stick together.

IT'S NOT ALL KALE SALADS AROUND HERE.

Every once in a while, my sweetheart and I come down with matching headaches. We're both employed in jobs that we love, jobs that fuel both our creative passions and keep the roof of our beloved 1970s mini ranch house (someday, I've got to post a house tour of our nest....one day, when I can get all the cooking debris and dog toys and power tools cleared away simultaneously) over our heads. But still, headaches happen in even the best of jobs and circumstances. On those days, my one and only sometimes calls me from the road and asks warily, 'Sooooo.....do you want to have crappy pizza tonight and not actually cook anything?'

He says crappy pizza like it's a bad thing. I see it as more of a life preserver.

This is just to say, crappy-wonderful pizza happens from time to time, even in the supposedly glamorous culinary life of a food stylist. It's real, it's honest, it's covered in unidentifiable cheese and dubious bell peppers, and man, I kind of love it. Tonight, we'll be having bad pizza and great wine, and sitting on the couch watching a music competition show whose name I won't reveal. We'll get back to your regularly scheduled kale salads any moment now. This one below is a particularly good one, full of earthy, autumnal flavor in the form of a sweet-tart white miso and apple cider vinegar dressing. If you're not having one of those headache days yourself, this is exactly what I suggest you make for dinner. 

But if you are? 

Then I and my raised slice of utilitarian pizza salute you, and wish you better days (full of delicious, flavor-packed kale salads) ahead.

Kale Salad with Sliced Honeycrisps & Miso-Apple Cider Vinaigrette

Serves 2

For the salad:

1 head of Tuscan kale (size varies, but you'll need about 3 cups once it's washed & sliced) 

1 Honeycrisp apple, thinly sliced with peel still on (I love Honeycrisps, but when they're not available, I'd reach for a similarly crisp, sweet-tart apple like a Pink Lady or Gala)

1/4 cup grated or finely shaved Manchego

1/4 cup raw pepitas

For the dressing:

1/4 cup olive oil

1/4 cup apple cider vinegar

1/4 cup white miso paste

2 teaspoons honey

2 tablespoons minced shallot

salt & pepper, to taste

Rinse kale leaves and trim away stems with a knife, then slice into thin ribbons. I like to throw it into a colander at this point and rinse it again, while massaging with my fingers for a few minutes under warm running water. This gets it extra squeaky clean, and has the added benefit of softening up the kale so that it's nice and tender (kale leaves can be stubborn things sometimes). Let all the excess water drain from the colander, blotting kale with a towel if necessary, then transfer to a large serving bowl. 

In a mixing bowl, whisk together olive oil, apple cider vinegar, miso paste and honey into a thick, creamy dressing. Add shallots, a small amount of salt & pepper to taste (adjust as necessary), then pour dressing over kale and toss to mix thoroughly. Add sliced apples, Manchego and pepitas, toss gently a few more times to combine, then serve.

PETITE STUFFED PUMPKINS

And I just can't wait until next Halloween

'Cause I've got some new ideas that will really make them scream

And by God, I'm really gonna give it all my might!

- Jack 'The Pumpkin King' Skellington, The Nightmare Before Christmas

I didn't realize it until it was too late this year, but when we chose this house we moved into one of 'those' neighborhoods: Halloweentown. As the first day of October flipped over on our collective calendars, the decorations began to creep out of storage. A black cat here, a twiggy broom there....then suddenly in the last few weeks there was an onslaught of fake cobwebs, giant lawn inflatables, spooky lights and severed heads and all things ghoulish. One house a block away hosted a full-on haunted house, complete with tombstone-strewn front lawn and sound effects. For a neighborhood that had seemed outwardly a bit conservative, it was a real pleasure to discover that my neighbors were.......basically, kind of secret freaks, after all. It was weirdly comforting.

Of course, as I mentioned, we realized it too late this year. Too busy with home renovations, with work, with general life things. No decorations, not even any costumes for us. But next year.....oh my goodness, the thought of next year has me cackling and rubbing my hands with cartoonish glee. And like the Pumpkin King, I've got big plans.

This year, we'll be dining on Halloween candy and I'll be dreaming of these individual stuffed pumpkins I made not long ago. Pumpkin season continues even after the cobwebs have been swept away, so make sure to take advantage of this recipe while you can. It's something of a relative to Dorie Greenspan's famous

Pumpkin Stuffed with Everything Good

recipe, and is basically one of my favorite savory bread pudding recipes stuffed into a pumpkin--the most wonderful, roastable bowl that you can eat afterwards!

Petite Stuffed Pumpkins

3 cups cubed bread (day-old, slightly stale bread is great if you have it)

2/3 cup milk

3 small pumpkins

1/2 lb. mild Italian sausage

1/2 cup diced onion

1 cup sliced crimini or button mushrooms

1/2 cup diced celery

1/2 cup grated parmesan

3 sprigs fresh thyme, stems removed

salt & pepper

In a large mixing bowl, place bread cubes and pour milk over them, set aside. Cut 'lids' into each pumpkin as you would for a jack o'lantern, with a sharp knife. A note on 'small' pumpkins: size is approximate, I had one Sugar Pie pumpkin and two smaller Sweet Dumpling pumpkins (winter squash have

the cutest

produce names

ever

). Scoop out seeds and other stringy bits, discard or set aside for roasting.

Preheat oven to 350, get out a roasting pan that can hold all three pumpkins at once. Heat a large skillet over medium high heat, saute Italian sausage until about halfway cooked through, breaking it up with a wooden spoon as you go. Add mushrooms, saute until browned, stirring occasionally. Add onion and celery, cooking for several minutes until both are softened and translucent. Transfer mixture mixing bowl with bread and milk, toss to combine. Add parmesan, fresh thyme, and salt & pepper to taste. Mix thoroughly, stuff into pumpkins and place pumpkin caps on top. Roast at 350 for 20 minutes, remove caps and bake for 10 more minutes--at this point they should smell heavenly and be nicely browned on top. Remove and let cool for 10 minutes, then serve while warm.

You can scoop everything out beforehand and serve it that way, but I'm a fan of serving each person their own personal pumpkin. Make sure to scrape the insides of the pumpkin itself while eating from this 'bowl' to get a little of the sweet, creamy pumpkin mixed with the savory stuffing.

PUMPKIN + CHORIZO EMPANADAS

I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it?

--Anne Shirley, in

Anne of Green Gables

by L.M. Montgomery

Fall is here.....or is it quite yet? October in the desert is always an exercise in waiting, in longing. Staring intently at photos of everyone else enjoying crisp mornings, cozy flannel, freshly picked apples and woodsmoke and steaming lattes (you know the Three-Letter Seasonal Beverage of which I speak) gets a little disorienting when the weather is determined to hang onto endless summer. A tempting breeze ruffles the leaves just outside my window, the light is all golden-tinged and wonderful....but I am not tempted at all. It's one hundred degrees and it's mid-October and I just plain have summer fatigue. Better to stay indoors, gazing adoringly at photos of pumpkins and woodpiles instead, dreaming of November.

We may not be ready for boots and hot apple cider just yet--if ever!--here in the Southwest, but we

can

have our pumpkin spice if I have anything to say about it. Just like last year, I'm

not exactly feeling

that Three-Letter Seasonal Beverage, but I do think the combination of pumpkin and something spicy is a winner. These Pumpkin + Chorizo Empanadas are like perfect little parcels of fall flavor (unladylike admission, you guys? I absolutely love anything that can be picked up and eaten out of hand in a few bites), and they're full of rich, wonderful pumpkin filling with just a hint of smokiness that makes me think of cooler days ahead. Pair this with an earthy, autumnal kale & apple salad in white miso-apple cider vinaigrette (more on that later), and November may as well be here already.

Pumpkin + Chorizo Empanadas

Makes about 12 empanadas

For the dough:

2 cups flour

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 cup vegetable oil

ice water

1 egg

For the filling :

1 tablespoon olive oil

1/4 cup diced onion

1/3 lb ground pork chorizo

1 cup pumpkin puree (I used organic canned pumpkin, but you're welcome to roast your own)

1 tablespoon chili powder

1 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon smoked paprika

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon honey

In a mixing bowl, combine flour, salt and baking powder. Add vegetable oil, then sprinkle in ice water a tablespoon at a time until dough reaches a kneadable consistency. Knead only two or three times to form the dough into a bowl, then cover and let rest in fridge for an hour.

Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium heat, saute onion until translucent. Add chorizo and cook until done, stirring frequently. Add pumpkin, chili powder, cumin and paprika, continue stirring for another minute, then remove from heat. Taste and add salt and honey (feel free to adjust these amounts slightly, to taste), then let filling cool thoroughly.

Preheat oven to 350, and line a baking sheet with parchment. Remove dough from fridge, pull small bits (slightly larger than a walnut) off it and roll them out individually into flattened squares approximately 3 inches on each side. Place a small spoonful of filling in the center of each, fold the other side over to form a triangle and crimp edges together with a fork. Beat egg and brush the top of each empanada lightly with the mixture. 

Place baking sheet in oven, bake for 22-25 minutes (flipping once, around the 15-minute mark), or until golden brown. Remove from oven, let cool until just warmer than room temperature (beware of steaming hot pumpkin filling burns!), then serve and enjoy.

CHOCOLATE BLACKBERRY BREAD

Some foods are just indisputably meant to be together, like peanut butter and jelly, like biscuits and gravy, like sweet corn and basil. But chocolate and blackberry? I never knew it before, but they're one of those classic combinations. Chocolate and blackberry are

married

, y'all.

There something magical about the combination of the deeply flavored, sweet berries playing against the tart, floral notes in intensely dark chocolate. I've made a thousand chocolate cakes before this one, and yet somehow there I was, combining these flavors for the first time. Swirling fresh blackberries into chocolate cake batter allows the two to combine and become something

more

than either flavor once baked, for lack of a better descriptive word. Just

more

. More like the ripe taste of late summer on your tongue. More chocolatey, somehow. More grownup, maybe, although it's one of those 'sophisticated' tastes that I suspect everyone will actually love. Tossing some whole berries into the batter as well allows for surprising little pockets of fruit that pop up in each bite, silky and jamlike and addictive. The whole thing is a wonder, really. I was lucky enough to make it just before blackberry season ended for the summer, and while I'm sure fresh is best, I have a suspicion that you could make this with frozen berries all winter long and bliss out on chocolate blackberry perfection just fine.

There's been a lot of extra love floating around in my world the last few months, a record-setting number of engagements and milestones and generally wonderful things. So why not chocolate and blackberries, after all? In a few hours from now, I'll be jumping on a plane to the opposite coast to watch two dear friends marry each other, and I couldn't be more excited--or more convinced that this cake is the perfect metaphor for all things matrimonial. Two main ingredients that compliment one another, each sharpening the flavor of the other as they join to become something greater in the pan than they were in the bowl? Sounds about right to me. Here's to love! Here's to perfect matches! And here's to chocolate's perfect match, the blackberry. Now, let's have some cake*.

[ *Yes, I know, I keep referring to this as a

cake

when it's clearly titled Chocolate Blackberry Bread in the recipe. But come on. We all know this is a 'bread' in the same way that zucchini bread is a bread....which is to say that it isn't at all. Mazel tov, have a slice of cake already! ]

Chocolate Blackberry Bread

Makes one 9" x 4" loaf

small amount of butter or coconut oil for pan

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup cocoa powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup coconut oil

3/4 cup Greek yogurt

1/2 cup milk

6 oz fresh blackberries

4 ounces dark chocolate

Preheat oven to 350, and lightly butter or apply oil to the sides of a 9" x 4" loaf pan. In a large mixing bowl, sift together flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt. In a separate bowl, combine coconut oil, yogurt and milk. Take half of the blackberries and puree in a food processor (you can also just smush them up a bit with a fork, if you prefer a more rustic texture or if you don't happen to have a food processor), add pureed blackberries to liquid mixture. Make a well in the center of the dry mixture and pour liquid into it, mixing as you go until it combines into a thick batter.

Separate the chocolate into two piles and chop half of it into small pieces (about the size of chocolate chips). Fold remaining whole blackberries and chopped chocolate into batter, then pour into pan and place in oven. Bake for at least 65 minutes, testing with a knife or skewer after an hour (you may need a little longer depending on your oven; mine needed about 75 minutes). Bread is done when a knife can be inserted and removed cleanly. Take out of oven and let cool.

Melt remaining chocolate in a small, microwave-safe bowl, stirring until smooth. Drizzle over room temperature Chocolate Blackberry Bread, then serve.

EATING PEACH GALETTE IN THE WOOD BETWEEN THE WORLDS

Everybody has a secret world inside of them. I mean everybody. All of the people in the whole world, I mean everybody — no matter how dull and boring they are on the outside. Inside them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds... Not just one world. Hundreds of them. 

Thousands, maybe.

--Neil Gaiman

Lots of good things have been happening lately, not the least of which is this rustic peach galette with sweet almond filling. Work has been humming along, good friends are getting married soon, and we've slowly been taking on the task of transforming our empty shell of a new house into a warm & cozy home. I hope to be able to share all the good things with you here soon, but in the mean time there's this peach pie and a couple of other that I just have to write about.

When I was little, I knew this quote by Neil Gaiman to be completely true, although I didn't actually read the above words until much, much later in life (like, as in last week). It was easy to understand about other, inner worlds, though. Back then I would have called up the image of the Wood Between the Worlds, described in C.S. Lewis's Narnia books as a grassy, warm place interspersed with trees and shallow pools, 'a kind of in-between place.' There were any number of pools leading to any number of strange worlds, and all anyone had to do was choose one and jump in (wearing a magic ring, of course, storybook rules are never as simple as they seem on the surface). My wild and woods-loving child heart loved those Narnia books (back before I knew what a fraught issue that would turn out to be, they were just wonderful stories that thrilled me), and knew something like a Wood Between the Worlds in my own heart. I knew the way to jump with both feet into a magic pool and escaped to other worlds every time I opened a book, every time I drew a picture, or every time I spent an hour glassy-eyed to the world, exploring wildernesses and fantastic beasts inside my own head. There were endless pools in my own personal wood. Thousands, maybe.

I like to think that I have hundreds, maybe thousands, of pie recipes inside me. Unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing pies waiting to be given form. This peach galette--a rustic-edged, freeform thing like all good galettes--with a hint of almond filling, this is an especially good one. Served with an extra dollop of late summer on top--fresh basil folded inside pillowy clouds of whipped cream--it's especially good. I almost missed my chance to post about this one, but thank goodness I didn't. It's still summer-warm here, still sunny and hot and buzzy with cicadas. There's still time to eat a peach pie, to slip dreamily off into other worlds for a while. Fall is coming. But for now, it's still summer.

Peach & Almond Galette

For the crust

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

6 tablespoons butter (make sure it's cold first; twenty minutes in the freezer beforehand works well)

1/4 cup ice water

1 egg white

1 teaspoon honey

1/4 cup sliced almonds, for sprinkling

For the filling

1/4 cup finely ground almonds (buy them ground or pulse in food processor at home)

1/2 cup white granulated sugar

1 tablespoon butter, softened

3 ripe peaches, sliced

For the basil whipped cream

1 cup heavy cream

1 tablespoon sugar

2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh basil

In a large bowl, mix together flour, sugar and salt. Pull butter from the freezer and grate it over the large holes of a cheese grater directly into your flour mixture. Mix with fingers until it looks crumbly but butter is evenly distributed. Start sprinkling in ice water a little at a time, continue mixing by hand just until the dough holds together. Use a light touch, and try not to overwork the dough. Lay out some plastic wrap, flatten the dough into a disk on it and wrap it up, refrigerate for at least an hour.

Preheat oven to 375 and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Remove dough from fridge and place it on a lightly floured surface. Roll out dough into a circle shape, roughly 13" wide and about 1/8" thick. Remember, it doesn't have to be perfect around the edges...you've gotta love galettes for this. Place dough circle onto a baking sheet.

In a small bowl, mix together the ground almonds, sugar and butter until it forms a paste. Spread evenly on the dough circle, top with sliced peaches (I like to make concentric circles with my peaches, because I am fancy). Fold the edges of the dough in roughly overlapping pleats, making sure they overhang the peach slice filling by about 1" all around, pinching pleats as you go. In another bowl, whisk egg white and honey together and brush onto outside of crust with a pastry brush. Sprinkle liberally with sliced almonds.

Bake for about 60 minutes, until the crust is lightly browned and its edges are just caramelized around the edges (you may need more or less time depending on your oven, so trust your senses). Remove from oven, let cool for 20 minutes. Whip cream until it holds soft peaks, then fold in sugar and basil. Serve on top of warm slices of galette, and enjoy your own private summer for a few moments more.