Chipotle Roasted Squash and Kale Quesadillas
Makes 4 quesadillas, serves 2-3
Note: peeling a squash can be a little difficult. I typically slice the top and bottom off the squash so it sits flat, then carve the skin off with a serrated knife.

1 small squash, peeled and seeded, cut into 1/2 inch cubes. (about 2.5 cups) (delicata and buttercup work great here because of their size; a small butternut or sugar pumpkin would work too)
3T. chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, finely minced, including some sauce
1.5t. olive oil
6-8 large leaves Lacinto Kale, stems removed, coarsely torn
approximately 1.5 c grated jack cheese (or pepper jack for extra spice), divided into 4 equal portions
4 flour tortillas (gordita size)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, if available. Otherwise, lightly grease with olive oil.

Toss squash with chipotle and olive oil in a large bowl. Stir until evenly coated. Spread on baking sheet and roast for 30 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes so that squash browns on multiple sides. Once squash is cooked, remove from oven, and reduce heat to 375 degrees. Reserve squash in a separate bowl. Discard parchment if used, and wipe baking sheet clean.

While the squash roasts, bring a medium pot of water to a rolling boil. Add kale and boil for 10 minutes. Drain kale and set aside.

Lay tortilla directly onto baking sheet. Sprinkle half of the tortilla with half of one of the portions of cheese, distributing evenly up to the edges. Sprinkle a handful of roasted squash and about 1/4 of the kale onto the cheese. Top with remaining half portion of cheese. Fold tortilla in half and gently press down to seal. Repeat with remaining tortillas, cheese, squash, and kale.

Bake quesadillas for 8-10 minutes, flipping halfway through.
Cut into wedges, serve and enjoy!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now that the last tomatoes have been harvested, my thoughts turn to fall–to slowing down, to less daylight and more reflections, and to the fall foods I begin to crave as the days grow shorter.

True, in the grocery store one can find most any vegetable or fruit that is desired at nearly any time of year. It’s easy to forget that vegetables are plants that only grow in certain areas at certain times. But, the concept of seasonality is one that is deep seeded in the human consciousness, and when followed with respect to food, can lead to a greater and deeper appreciation of all that sustains us.

I never really thought about this too much until I started receiving a CSA share and started shopping at Farmer’s Markets. Because I can’t find asparagus in autumn or brussels sprouts in summer, I appreciate them that much more when they do make their respective debuts. Another side affect of eating seasonally for me is that the year is divided into sections, and I have a way to gauge the time that has passed. Since the highest highs of summer aren’t too different from the lowest lows of winter here in the Bay Area, I can’t really rely on the weather to do this for me.

But back to fall. Fall to me means squash, sweet potatoes, collard greens, beets, apples, rutabagas, and a wide variety of other roots, tubers, and hearty greens. Most of these vegetables play well together, especially when you start mixing colors and textures. For example:

• beets and carrots
• leeks and potatoes
• red cabbage and onions
• rutabaga and apples
• kale and squash

… just to name a few. I find that by simply sticking to what’s in season and a few tried and true cooking methods, it’s hard to go wrong when preparing vegetables.

Just as the vegetables on my counter top change with the season, so do my cooking methods. In the spring, I tend to saute; in the summer, I eat lots of raw things; in the fall and winter, I roast. Roasting squash, in particular, brings out a deep sweetness that is not as pronounced when steaming, boiling, or sauteing. And when combined with a little spice–fantastico!!

One of my favorite quick fall dinners is roasted squash quesadillas. Though the roasting takes a little time, the rest of the recipe comes together in a snap. Using leftover roasted vegetables makes this simple recipe even easier. Feel free to experiment with different combinations. Squash, kale, and chipotle is an all-time favorite around here.

I awoke this morning before dawn, not a huge feat as the autumn days grow shorter, but somewhat of a rarity for me nonetheless. Showered and coffee in hand, I wandered to the windowsill to check the seeds I’d planted in mini-pots and reused cottage cheese containers four days prior. I was pretty sure I had somehow botched things without knowing, or at least not followed ‘proper’ protocol. I had never started anything from seed, and the idea of starting a winter garden that way seemed like a long shot, or at least a recipe for, well, not having a garden.

My first attempt at a garden produced mediocre results.

Early July after I’d moved from downtown San Francisco to more rural Los Altos Hills, I planted my first ever garden in the 4×6 foot raised bed allotted to me by my landlord. No one had used it in years, and the soil vaguely resembled concrete. I spent an entire saturday digging the bed, adding 15 cubic feet of compost, and planting six corn seedlings, one okra plant, one pepper plant, one tomato seedling, one cucumber plant, and a handful of beet seeds. By early October the garden had yielded exactly four tomatoes, two inedible ant-laden okra pods, two sadly misshapen cucumbers, and one respectable pepper (though this was already on the plant when I bought it, so it doesn’t really count…). Not exactly the bountiful harvest I had hoped for.

So I was pretty much shocked and delighted as I stood at the windowsill in the pre-dawn and saw dozens of tiny green shoots emerging from the soil in two of the five containers–the broccoli and collard greens had sprouted. By the time I got home from work later that day, the three other containers–Lacinto Kale and two types of lettuce– had sprouted as well. My imagined ashy-gray thumb has turned a pale shade of green.

Of all the seeds I started, I’m most looking forward to the Lacinto Kale.

I first experienced Lacinto Kale when I joined a CSA. Since then it’s become my second favorite vegetable, my #1 being the mighty beet. The leaves of Lacinto Kale (also called Dino or Dinosaur Kale) are flatter, more narrow, and have thinner stems than regular curly kale, which honestly, I’d always thought of as a mega-vegetable–you know, one that everyone knows is super healthy, but that few actually eat.

Anyways, Lacinto Kale is delicious and tender, and I encourage you to try it if you haven’t before. In anticipation of my (hopefully bountiful this time) winter garden, I thought I’d provide a recipe that is one of my favorite way to prepare kale. This is a bold dish in which the earthy undertones of kale are complimented by the sweetness of candied ginger and the sourness of lemons. And as a side note: though I love the sweeter meyer lemons that are available here in California, I would not use them in this dish–their lack of sourness causes the dish to lose a whole layer of complexity.

Lacinto Kale with Lemon and Candied Ginger
serves 2-3 as a side dish
Adapted from a Two Small Farms weekly newsletter

• 1 small bunch Lacinto Kale, any tough stems removed, coarsely chopped
• about 1 t. olive oil
• 2 T. fresh lemon juice
• 1 – 1 1/2 t. fresh lemon zest
• 2 T. crystallized/candied ginger, chopped

Steam the chopped kale in a covered pan until tender but not mushy, about 4 minutes. It will turn a beautiful bright kelly green. (Note: you can either use a steamer basked or simply place 1/4″ of water with kale in a saucepan to steam).

Once Kale is steamed, toss together with all remaining ingredients in a non-reactive bowl.

Enjoy!