Nipping at our toes

The frost is on the pumpkin this morning. This is usually one of my favorite days, a decisive turning of the season. The leaves have been changing color and dropping for so many weeks now that it hardly seems special anymore, just as we take the green leaves for granted by July. But today it is clear that there is no turning back: the tomatoes that we thought could take a few more days to ripen must come out, the flower containers should be tucked in unless we want leggy impatiens.

But Jack Frost beat us to the punch this year. I have been informed by the Boiler Guy that our boiler is in need of a new gas valve, and that I should be ecstatic that they even make parts for it anymore. I’m used to discussions like this with my Volvo mechanic, but the boiler is only half the age of my car. It was installed when I was pregnant with Little One, and he’s not old. And like the Volvo, the part has to come from New Jersey, and won’t be here before Monday.

No heat, and and Frost rapping at the window. We broke out the long underwear, filled the hot water bottles and bought a couple of space heaters, but Jack is laughing at us. Little One’s cough has turned all chesty, so I’ve kept him home, even though it’s warmer at school. We’ll add another layer and go hunt pumpkins this afternoon, but will plan to spend the evening eating out where it’s warm.

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The good, the bad, and the tasty

Sweet cream butter. Nope, sorry, butter is bad: you should use margarine or canola oil. No, wait, those trans fats can clog your heart up worse than a cork. Butter isn’t so bad after all, but only in moderation. Top of the pyramid.

We seem to be getting a little pudgy as a population: the finger points at fat. We should stick to fat-free foods, then we can have as much as we want, guilt-free. Oops, now we seem to have an obesity and diabetes epidemic. Maybe a little fish oil will help after all.

Everyone knows that you shouldn’t drink too much, it’s not good for you. But, wait, red wine keeps the French healthy. Two glasses a day should do. But hold on, drinking can increase the risk for cancer.

Chocolate. Clearly something this good must be evil. But wait, the bioflavonoids in high-cocoa content chocolate can be good for your heart. So eat your chocolate—for now. Someone will no doubt notice that chocolate bars are candy, and as vital as it is to my life, I know that I must enjoy it in moderation.

Honestly, it makes me wondered what happened to common sense. I can hear my grandmother repeating, “Moderation is the key.” (I somehow envision a woman I’ve never met cast in this role, in a flowered apron and snapping beans on her front porch.) Our fad-riddled society has us moving from the newest to the latest with lightning speed. Last year it was all blueberries and red wine. Now it’s pomegranates and 70% chocolate. Who knows what next year will bring? It really doesn’t matter: if we look to tradition to guide our choices, we will find that the wisdom of ages automatically builds in moderation.

With that in mind, I started recipe development work (a euphemism for messing about in the kitchen) for a dessert offering for the kid’s school auction. The dessert portion of the live auction can really move, as there are never enough to go around – by design. Add to that the fact that we tend to be über-responsible adults most of the time, and the desserts are usually out of this world.

I’ll fall back on my tried-and-true Chocolate Stout Cake, the richest chocolate cake I make, but I wanted a second offering to accommodate our vegan/allergic/pc-even-at-a-party compatriots without making them feel they were sacrificing anything. I had toyed with a pot of drinking chocolate and an assortment of cookies, but my tests weren’t going well. Even the boys were picking at our test subjects. Not good. Then Saturday, pure serendipity: I reached into the magazine holder and pulled out a Bon Appétit at random. It was a Christmas issue from 2003. I opened it, to see a page of truffles. The (compact fluorescent) light bulb went off. After a quick web search, I found a way to make truffles using vegan ingredients. Saturday evening’s ganache passed muster, and Sunday was spent trying different taste combinations, and learning hand-dipping (Darling Husband thinks that the clean-up for the latter should involve him—why should I get to lick my fingers all by myself?). A quick trip out for dessert wines, and British neighbor stepped up to the plate for the first round of testing last night. We have the wine chosen, and a few winner truffles. We’ll have to do at least one more round of tasting, but she’s assured us that she’s up for it. Brave woman.

Soy Truffles

1 cup high-quality dairy-free chocolate
1/4 cup full-fat soy milk
1/3 cup extra-firm silken tofu
1 tsp. vanilla or 1 Tbl. liqueur

Chop the chocolate and place in bowl. Blend soy milk and tofu together until smooth. Heat the soy mixture until very hot, but not boiling. Working quickly, pour the hot soy mixture into the grated chocolate, stirring constantly until smooth. Beat in flavoring. Cool in refrigerator 1-2 hours. Shape into balls and chill. You can cover and decorate them as for any truffle.

Of course, now that I’ve made these truffles using soy (which is still “in” for pre-menopausal women, but still a high allergen food), I’m wondering if I can find a way to use other non-dairy ingredients with similarly tasty results. Watch this space!