Wisconsin Woman Ignores Holiday Decorations And Hunting Season To Play In Woods And Cook Acorn Squash Bisque

My ever industrious, Wisconsin neighbors did not idle away the day as I did. They seized  advantage of our unseasonably warm (50's and 60's ?!!!!), dry weather and hung holiday decorations on their trees and houses. But the dogs and I shirked these seasonal responsibilities and instead ambled through woods and fields. We inhaled the warm, fresh air and stretched our legs on the rich, black, Wisconsin soil. Our decadent insolence lasted hours. We paused only to determine the direction of the occasional gunshots we heard and decide if we should alter our course. You see, now it's dear hunting season in Wisconsin and thousands of hunters are also moving through the fields and perching in trees. They are intent on "bringing home the proverbial bacon" so to speak. That's Wisconsin for you, industrious even in recreation, that is of course until the beer gets poured. But the dogs and I had no beer and were doing nothing so useful.

Upon return home, I knew I needed to amend my slacking ways and produce something of value. I chose to cook soup. Not that I am a huge fan of soup, (as I recall I was quite negative about this entire food group in a previous post). But I stumbled upon a recipe for acorn squash bisque in the Wisconsin Country Gourmet cookbook that appealed even to me. Thinking someone besides myself may have an excess of squash or perhaps want to serve soup on Thanksgiving I decided to give it my all and sweat leeks. Click on "continue reading..." for the recipe and review.

Wisconsin gourmet chefs, Marge Snyder and Suzanne Breckenridge, are the authors of the Wisconsin Country Gourmet. They introduce their acorn squash bisque recipe with this description, "A mild, creamy and elegant soup with a hint of thyme and rum. Prepare it a day early, adding cream and rum just before reheating." It was the rum ingredient that persuaded me that this soup may actually taste good. (I like this cookbook because the authors always know how to add a lot of extra flavor with a little touch of liquor.) Plus, the instruction to make the soup ahead of time earned this recipe entry into my short-list of foods to cook for Thanksgiving. So here it is:

• 2 leeks, chopped, white part only
• 4 Tablespoons butter
• 1 large acorn squash
• 1 1/2 cups chicken stock
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme
• 1 teaspoon rum
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• salt and pepper

"Bake whole acorn squash in 325 degree oven for 45 minutes or until easily pierced with a fork. Scoop out pulp and set aside. Sweat leeks in large saucepan by covering with buttered round of waxed paper. Cook over medium heat about 20 minutes. Add pulp, stock, thyme, salt and pepper to taste. Combine and place in blender and whirl until smooth. Return to saucepan and cook over low heat 20  minutes. Add rum and cream just before serving and heat thoroughly. Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve hot. Serves 4."

So to regain my standing as a productive Wisconsin citizen, I learned how to cook a leek. I'd never cooked a leek before, and I admit the authors' instructions to "sweat" it sounded like one of those deceptive instructions which actually entail a lot more effort than the novice is prepared for. Suspicious, I called my aunt, the Illinois gourmet chef. "What was all this about sweating leeks?" I asked. I imagined running them at a quick pace until they perspired which made no sense to me as vegetables lack sweat glands.

My aunt explained that "to sweat a leek" means to lightly cook it, -not brown it, or saute it. Just warm it in a tablespoon of butter over a low heat until water has come out of it and it is limp." Given her description I realized that marathon runners after a race would indeed resemble such a sweating leek. I had grasped the concept. My aunt told me to nix the wax paper because I didn't want wax in my soup. She suggested I substitute parchment paper. Parchment paper? - That's as foreign to my kitchen as leeks. I implemented her original idea and just heated the chopped leeks in a saucepan of melted butter.

Making the rest of the soup was easy. Hours later when I ate it for dinner, my first reaction was, "This is SWEET." I'm not a fan of sweet soups. I guess leeks are sweet, and of course, rum is sweet. But the spoonful also delivered an unusually-delicious flavor. At first I ate the soup in slow, tentatively-thoughtful spoonfuls, but minutes later I realized I'd begun to gobble it. It no longer tasted sweet, just warmly pleasing. No soup was left in my bowl, and I was happy there was more in the pot. What a nice way to end a grand day of doing very little.

 

 

Comments

[Tina Arthur]

You have to be careful out in the woods with the dogs. In the upstate New York area a child was mistakengly shot and injured. And my first ex-husband was mistakently shot at by another hunter(they missed), so it can happen. I would avoid areas where you can hear shots!