The Newlywed Table Turns 4
Winter Squash Soup with Turmeric and Yogurt
My first solo cookbook, The Newlywed Table, turns 4 this weekend. Four years ago, the book was published, and I got to travel around the country on book tour, meeting people and signing copies and demo-ing recipes. What fun that was!
Graham and I have been married for five years. We were, of course, newlyweds at the time of the book’s publication. I’m not sure if there’s an official length of time that counts as the newlywed phase. If there is an end date, I’d rather not know about it. “Newlywed is a state of mind,” is what I told the dozens of people who confessed to me on tour that they had been married for quite a number of years yet wanted to buy The Newlywed Table. And I still wholeheartedly believe that to be true.
The first meal I cooked for Graham was shortly after we had started dating, when we were undergrads at Cal. I was living in a one-bedroom apartment off-campus with my friend Elena, and I invited Graham to come over for dinner. I made butternut squash soup that I ladled into bowls for us, swirled in big spoonfuls of crème fraîche, and sprinkled with fresh herb leaves—maybe chives? I can’t remember the exact herb, probably because I was too excited and too nervous to share a meal with such a cute guy. I bought a Dungeness crab, which felt extremely fancy and was certainly outside my student budget for groceries. I dusted it with a mixture of paprika and salt and put it on a baking sheet in the oven to warm up a little. Our fingers became sticky from the juices and coated in red spice as we split the crab and pulled every last piece of meat from within its hard shell. Marry me, I thought.
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When I was in graduate school in Italy, Graham was studying typeface design at The Cooper Union in New York City. Neither of us had very much in our bank accounts, but we somehow found a way to buy a ticket for him to come visit me once. We traveled around the country by train, admiring all the art we could find, some in museums but most of it hanging inside churches. When we were hungry, we went to bakeries and little butcher shops to pick up puffy slabs of focaccia doused with olive oil and paper-thin slices of prosciutto and mortadella. We sat on the old stone steps of churches and ate olives and fruit and crumbly hunks of cheese. I’d be so happy to spend the rest of my life doing this with you.
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After our son, Arthur, was born, I felt immense gratitude—to my body, to Graham, to the world for giving me this precious gift. I also felt famished. Graham cooked broth from meaty beef bones scented with star anise, and another made from chicken thighs, celery, and carrots. He boiled thick, chewy wheat noodles and pork-stuffed dumplings and he told me to sit at the table, in the spot where the sun shines directly on your back and warms you up better than the house heater. He placed steaming hot bowls of broth in front of me, always with a slick of fiery red chile oil floating on the surface. He fed me bowl after bowl, for weeks that turned into months, until I felt warm and strong again. Please never leave my side.
Winter Squash Soup with Turmeric and Yogurt
Consider this soup recipe a template. You can follow the same series of adaptable steps without being too concerned about the precise ingredients. Any type of hard-skinned winter squash will do: kabocha, acorn, or butternut. You could even use a combination. You can also choose to switch up the spices. I’ve included turmeric, a member of the ginger family, because it adds a subtle tang and vibrant pop of color, but you could use a pinch of ground chile for a warming soup. The fresh thyme adds an ever-so-slightly herbal note, but it is optional.
3 ¾ pounds (1.7 kg) winter squash, such as kabocha, acorn, or butternut
4 tablespoons (60 ml) olive oil
Fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 small yellow onion, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
2 garlic cloves, sliced
Leaves from 3 sprigs fresh thyme (optional)
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 quart (960 ml) chicken broth or water
Plain whole-milk yogurt
Snipped fresh chives or other fresh tender herb leaves, such as cilantro or chervil
Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C).
Carefully halve the squash lengthwise or widthwise. (If the squash is particularly awkward in its weight distribution and you’re worried about cutting into it, you can slice off a thin piece of the peel on one side and then turn the squash so that it rests steadily on the cut side. This will help it stay put and not roll around on your cutting board.) Scoop out and discard the seeds. Places the halves cut-side up on a rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle 2 tablespoons of the oil over the squash and season generously with salt and pepper. Roast until tender when poked with a fork, 45 minutes to 1 hour.
Let the squash cool until you can handle it comfortably. Using a large spoon, scoop the flesh of the squash into a bowl; discard the skins. (The squash can be roasted and scooped ahead of time and stored, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.)
Heat a Dutch oven or large pot over medium heat. Add the butter and remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil. When the butter foams, add the onion, carrot, garlic, thyme, turmeric, and ½ teaspoon salt. Cook, stirring often, until the onion softens, about 3 minutes. Stir in the squash and broth. Adjust the heat so the soup simmers, then cook for 10 minutes.
Using an immersion blender, puree the soup directly in the pot until very smooth, or carefully transfer it to a countertop blender and puree. (If using a countertop blender, work in batches and remember to remove the center of the blender lid, then cover the hole with a kitchen towel to avoid steam buildup.) Taste and add another ¼ teaspoon salt (or more), if needed.
To serve, ladle the soup into bowls, swirl a spoonful of yogurt into each, and top with a sprinkling of chives.
Please join me in celebrating The Newlywed Table’s birthday by cooking a recipe from the book! You can find a copy wherever you like to buy books—or click right here.
Thank you so much for being part of this community and for reading “Recipe of the Month.” I’ll be back next week with some colorful Passover and Easter recipes.
xo,
Maria