Because with a little effort and a lot of vegetable stock, this:
Becomes this:
The pumpkin was 100% free, as it grew from a volunteer plant that grew from a seed from the compost we spread on the garden. Compost from our neighborhood’s communal bin. Someone in the neighborhood had some pie pumpkins at some point last year, and composted the seeds, and I thank them.
The wilted mustard greens, in all their peppery goodness, were also from our garden though not volunteer but rather planted quite intentionally by me. They were the perfect compliment to the sweet, creamy risotto. We’ve got four mustard plants in the winter garden, and five more squash stored from this summer’s harvest, so I expect we’ll be enjoying this meal several more times before the winter is over. It was the best damn thing I’d eaten in I don’t know how long. So. Damn. Good.
And sure, you can buy a pumpkin and you can buy mustard greens. But it’ll cost you more, and there’s no way it can taste as good. Especially the greens. Nothing tastes quite the same as a vegetable that’s been harvested minutes before eating. That, and for the cost of a packet of seeds ($2.49), we’ll have greens on our table all winter.
The bread? Molasses wheat from an old bread cookbook that belonged to my parents. The book is so old, I assumed it was out of print and I was going to share the recipe with you, but a quick search proves there is a New! Updated and Expanded! edition, so good copyright adherent that I am, I simply recommend you look for this book in a store or library and see if it’s still got that molasses wheat bread recipe. If it does, it makes a damn fine bread.
It’s also quite good toasted, with butter and homemade blueberry jam. So excuse me, please. The fetus wants a snack.
