Week in Review

This past Wednesday was the annual Washington Area Women's Foundation Leadership Luncheon. You might remember my post about it last year. I was so inspired that despite my complete lack of comfort with soliciting money, I enthusiastically agreed to join the Host Committee for this year's event. 

The tone of this year's Luncheon was one firmly rooted in female empowerment and strength. After a week of Me Toos swirling around, it was tremendously meaningful to sit with more than a thousand women (and a few men) and celebrate our vast ability, resilience, and connectedness. I am proud that the host committee this year raised more than $860,000 for the Women's Foundation. This record amount is crucial for our wholly donor-supported organization, and I am grateful to all who lift us up. 

On Friday night, a dear friend and I headed downtown to see Tom Hanks in conversation with Ann Patchett. A curious combination, perhaps, until you find that Hanks has just published a book of short stories, Uncommon Type. 

Gorgeous night, exciting event.

He is an avid collector of vintage typewriters (he owns more than 200) and the machine has a role, from mention to major character, in each of the seventeen stories in the book. 

Meanwhile, in addition to being a prolific writer, Patchett, as you might know, owns the independent bookstore, Parnassus Books, in Nashville. She was sent an advanced copy of Hanks' book. Initially rolling her eyes over "another actor who wants to publish a book," she found that once she started reading, she couldn't stop. She noted with relief that Hanks' writing is totally unaffected in a way that feels increasingly rare these days. 

It was a delightful conversation, although my friend and I both wondered if Hanks is always so kinetic and "on" or if he was in show-mode for this event. It was at times almost exhausting to watch and listen to him. I liked Patchett a lot. Although I don't much care for her fiction, her nonfiction is brilliant and I absolutely adore it. I hoped not to have a Kingsolver experience (remember when I went to hear her speak and found her public presence not terribly appealing; sad), and I didn't.

Washington has so much to offer. Despite American politics feeling like the most depressing and toxic and devouring dumpster fire ever, this city is extraordinarily rich in so many other ways, and I feel lucky I can take regular advantage of our cultural and social justice offerings.

It has also been a week (weeks, actually) of pretty and delicious food which for me never fails to serve as balm and joy. 

pumpkin ravioli with sage brown butter and parmesan

incredibly juicy, tangy Concord grapes from a local farmers market

tomatoes from that market heading towards roasted tomato jam (an outstanding Amanda Hesser recipe)

after nearly two hours in the oven, the jam is ready to put up.

In other news, Stumptown has changed its packaging, and I'm smitten with the handsome take on a humble coffee bag. If you love coffee and grind your own beans for your morning espresso, please try Hairbender. Mamma mia. It's a worthy splurge.

And Nutmeg continues to keep watch, this time with the help of a bony friend. Oliver, who loves Halloween more than even his birthday and Christmas, is in full decorative spirit and costume planning right now. The countdown to the 31st is on! Ol told me last week, "Mamma, I know you don't love Halloween, but you always work to make it so much fun for me. Thank you." What a gift he is, and such an old soul. Tom and I are dressing up this year, and Ol is delighted. I told him that his enthusiasm is infectious, and thanks for making my life more fun. 

Tomatoes fresh, tomatoes canned, and some pumpkins too

Before waxing rhapsodic about tomatoes and pumpkins, I first want to say thank you to all who wrote here, on Facebook, via email and via text in response to yesterday's post, Time's Determined March. Any writer who feels her words resonate with and impact others is fulfilled, and my heart is full and appreciative today.

Now, food. I was en fuego yesterday, y'all. Pumpkin puree, roasted pumpkin seeds, tomato and white bean soup, roasted tomato jam, chocolate chip banana bread...and scene.

Pumpkins

Let's begin with the pumpkin puree and seeds as those are both shockingly simple, and pumpkins are just showing their happy autumnal selves at area markets.

I like to make pumpkin puree -for cheesecakes, breads, pies, ice cream, muffins; anything you'd otherwise use canned pumpkin for- from sugar pie pumpkins. These are exceedingly round, bright orange squash that are much smaller than those you'd use to carve jack-o-lanterns from. 

Simply wash each pumpkin, cut it in half and remove the seeds. Rinse the seeds and remove any chunks of pumpkin flesh. Set them aside if you want to roast them, or discard/compost. Place the pumpkin halves cut-side down on a rimmed baking sheet and roasted in a 385° or 400° Fahrenheit oven until the flesh is soft and easily pierced with a knife; there should be NO resistance. 

Once cooked, let the pumpkin cool before scooping out the flesh and putting it through a food mill. This will remove any seeds you didn't remove before as well as any overly fibrous flesh. I then portion out and freeze the puree in one-cup increments. 

Later, I roasted the seeds I'd cleaned and reserved but learned something new as I prepped. Boil the seeds in salted water before roasting them in the oven. This ensures that the salt seasons both the interior seed as well as the exterior shell. Thank you, Elise Bauer, for sharing your  mother's wisdom.

Tomatoes fresh, tomatoes canned

Before tomato season calls it quits, I wanted to make one last batch of roasted tomato jam, so I bought three pounds of beefsteaks and got busy. This recipe, from Amanda Hesser, is really spectacular. I love the slight pepper kick and the cinnamon and fennel seed undertones, all of which deliciously buttress the sweet tomato base.

roasted tomato jam

Meanwhile, I was in the mood for tomato soup and so used some wonderful canned tomatoes that I put up over the summer to make the tomato-white bean soup that my whole family loves. It's a recipe I've developed over time, and I think it's now pretty perfect. Saffron, basil, peperoncino, shallots, garlic, lemon zest and an all-important Pecorino (or Parmesan) rind stew together magically with tomatoes and white beans. The recipe is now posted in Soups.

a pumpkin pot for tomato soup

It's a one-pot vegetarian meal that won't take more than forty-five minutes. Make some grilled cheese sandwiches or toast some bread for the side, and you'll be in heaven. 

tomato and white bean soup

Such a splendid Sunday

The gramps picked Jack and Ol up at 10 this morning and headed off to the Nationals' last home game of regular season. The boys were dressed in the "official Nats uniforms" they got at Nats camp this past summer and the plan was to go early in the hopes of getting an autograph voucher. They missed that but romped delightedly on the stadium playground for hours and ate a wide array of ballpark food. So much in fact that pretty much as soon as Jack stepped in tonight, just after 6p, he threw up everywhere. Horrid, stinky piles of what looked like upchucked chili. Maternal adrenaline is a good thing because that was disgusting. After the first hurl -on our bedroom floor- he managed to get his pants off. Then, rolling around the carpeted hall, moaning about how he would NEVER eat junk food again unless it was a holiday, he booted for the second time. Between that one and finally taking his shirt off and making it to the toilet, he asserted that birthdays do not count as holidays, a declaration I found baffling.

Poor kid. I drew him a hot bath and got him some seltzer and a couple Tums. When I asked him what he'd eaten he replied, "two hot dogs, Dippin Dots, cotton candy, Orange Crush..." It was revolting, but I dare say he's learned his lesson. He actually learned it once before, during his 100th-day-of-school celebration when he was three. He ate about 400 chocolate chips. When I picked him he said he felt awful and furious and would never overeat dessert again. He hasn't even come close, until today, which I think was really just way too much crap in way too short a time. Like I said, I think he's learned.

In the meantime, I went to the farmers market and then spent several hours cooking and having a solo dance party/concert as T had to work. It was great. I made a double batch of spiced rhubarb-apple butter and some roasted tomato jam, froze a bunch of fresh raspberries and shelled a ton of borlotti beans. I can never get over just how pretty they are.

Peach cobbler has been calling my name, and since I had to use up a half-dozen from last week's market, I decided to get right to it. That'd make a fine dessert for dinner. We had some King salmon I needed to use, and I'd bought some gorgeous okra and arugula this morning too. An embarrassment of riches, really. And the foundation for quite a fine meal.

I love grilled okra, especially when you've got a steel bin full of good wood chips adding a bit of smokey flavor to the chopped pods. I'd tossed these with olive oil, garlic, red pepper flakes, lemon juice and salt, and then later, T made a drizzling oil spiked with chili powder and champagne vinegar that was awfully nice.

I oven-roasted the salmon but first spread some fresh rhubarb-apple butter on top as salmon and apples go so very well together. Sa.tis.fying!