Butternut Squash Soup with Rosemary Croutons

Okay, I’m ready for warm weather. I can’t wait for sunny park walks with just a light jacket - or, dare we dream, no jacket? - and, on the other side of that, days of abundant fresh produce hand selected from the market. In the meantime, I’m clinging to my winter squashes and citrus, and trying hard to embrace the moment. Because along with the park walks and jacketless freedom come seasonal allergies and sunblock - so there are benefits to the here and now. Like this creamy butternut squash soup.

The most difficult thing you’ll do for this recipe is chop the butternut squash. If knives aren’t your thing, you could purchase prepared chopped squash - no shame in saving your time and/or fingers. If you have a whole squash on hand, start with peeling. It’ll take a little patience, but a simple vegetable peeler (Y-shaped preferred) will do the trick. Once peeled, take a thin slice off the bottom and top to form a stable surface for cutting. Stand the squash upright so it’s tall on its base and, using a sharp knife, carefully cut it vertically, applying firm pressure until you cut through. Scoop out the seeds, then chop. For this recipe, you’re looking for 2-inch chunks.

This is a pretty basic soup as far as soups go: chopped vegetables boiled in water. Sure, we fancy it up a little with some floral notes from the rosemary, some umami from the parmesan, some crunchy breadcrumbs - maybe a little sherry if you have it on hand to add some depth and complexity. But the star of this soup is butternut squash, and it delivers with sweetness, nuttiness, and a velvety texture. Thanks, winter.

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Butternut Squash Soup

Time: 1 ½ hours || Servings: 8

• Butternut squash - 1 ½ lbs, one large or two small squash

• Olive oil - 1 tbsp

• Onion - 1 cup, chopped from 1-2 onions

• Garlic - 4 cloves, peeled and crushed

• Water - 3 cups

• Rosemary sprigs - 2

• Chicken or vegetable stock - 1 cup

• Sherry - ¼ cup

• Chunky breadcrumbs - you can buy or make these by pulsing a day-old baguette in a food processor; alternatively, pull some bread into big chunks and toast a bit longer

• Parmesan cheese - grated, for serving

Peel the butternut squash and cut a thin slice from the bottom and top to give it an even surface to stand on. Carefully halve the butternut squash vertically. Scoop out the seeds and discard, then roughly chop the squash into 2-inch chunks.

In a large, heavy bottomed pot, heat the olive oil over medium-low heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until golden, about 15 minutes. Don’t let the onions brown. Then add the garlic and cook, stirring, until fragrant, 1-2 minutes. Add the squash, water, and one rosemary sprig, then cover and simmer for about 45 minutes.

While the squash simmers, heat the oven to 350°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and spread the breadcrumbs out on the baking sheet. Chop the leaves from the second sprig of rosemary and sprinkle them over the breadcrumbs. Drizzle breadcrumbs with the oil, then give them a toss to coat them. Toast in the oven for 10 minutes, tossing occasionally to allow the crumbs to brown evenly. Remove when breadcrumbs are crisp, and sprinkle lightly with coarse salt. Set aside to cool.

When the squash is tender and easily pierced with a fork, turn off the heat and discard the rosemary sprig. Puree the mixture using an immersion blender or food mill, or let it cool slightly and use a blender or food processor to puree in as many batches as necessary. Return the puree to the pot over low heat and add the sherry. Slowly add stock until you reach desired consistency. Add a large pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper, then taste and add sherry and seasoning to your taste. Serve topped with the breadcrumbs and a generous sprinkling of grated parmesan.

Winter Greens Salad

I know, a salad doesn’t seem exciting, and not only is this a salad but it’s one made from winter greens that are maybe a little bit - what shall we say? - oh I guess, yes, they can be bitter, if you’re the type to judge. But don’t stop reading yet. It would be in your best interest to keep reading. Because yes, this salad has bitter greens in it, but the acidic lemony mustardy pop of the dressing transforms them. You will not regret eating this.

And let’s face it - it’s been a loooong indoor winter, with sad salads made from greens that long for sun and soil and a shorter commute. These greens might be a little different from your darling bibb and butter lettuces, but they are of the moment. And aren’t we all a little bitter right now? These greens get you.

Did you notice that some of this salad is a little pink? That’s a fancy little chicory called Radicchio La Rosa del Veneto - aka pink radicchio from Venice. I’d never heard of it before, but my local shop had it and who could resist that color? Apparently it’s having a little moment and is being grown in the US with more regularity (some crazy restaurants actually import it from Venice!). It’s absolutely unnecessary to go on a mission to find it, though - red radicchio is equally delicious.

Eat this salad with these awesome garlic & goat cheese toasts, maybe some olives - and a big glass of wine.

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Winter Greens Salad

Time: 10 minutes || Servings: 5 || Source: Slightly adapted from Mozza via NYT

• Whole grain mustard - 1 ½ tsp

• Dijon mustard - 1 ½ tsp

• Lemon juice, freshly squeezed - 3 to 6 tbsp

• Olive oil - ½ cup

• Salt & pepper

• Mixed winter greens, such as frisée, radicchio, or dandelion greens - 8 oz or ½ lb

When you’re ready to eat, wash and dry the greens. If there are signs of wilting, soak the greens in cold water - this can also help to reduce the bitterness of radicchio. Dry thoroughly using a salad spinner or kitchen towels. Tear greens into bite sized pieces. I like to keep small leaves whole because they’re pretty. Toss the greens together and place in a large bowl for serving, or individual bowls.

Make the dressing. Note: These amounts will make more dressing than you’ll need for this salad, but it’ll keep in the refrigerator for a week and works well on other greens. In a jar, combine the mustards, 3 tablespoons of lemon juice, and olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste (I used ½ tsp salt to start). Cover and shake vigorously. When emulsified (the ingredients have come together and look creamy, and the olive oil isn’t separated), dip a small piece of radicchio or frisée into the dressing and taste it. The amount of lemon needed will depend on the acidity of your particular lemon and mustard; I needed 4 tablespoons to get some pop from the lemon. Add additional lemon and salt if needed and taste again - repeat until your palate is happy.

Toss the greens with just enough dressing to coat them. Start with less dressing than you think you need - it’s easy to add more, but an over-dressed salad is irretrievably soggy.

Variation: Although quite good as is, this salad wouldn’t suffer from the addition of toasted walnuts or pine nuts or a little shaved parmesan or roquefort if you feel so inclined.