Thanksgiving Made Simple
Persimmons, Harvest Pumpkin Soup, Gobble Wobble 5K
The color orange has been a focal point these last few weeks. From the maple tree out front that dropped its last leaf a few days ago, to the carved pumpkin that was put in the compost bin, orange has been speckling my life in the most spectacular way. I have a royal blue pie dish with a few ripening persimmons that currently serves as decoration on our kitchen table. The persimmons were purchased at Edible Landscaping’s Persimmon Festival two weekends ago and I’ve been slowly savoring them, though I am tempted to make a Persimmon Cheesecake with the remaining few.
As oranges fade and leaves continue to drop, the holiday season is fast approaching. I used to be the person who would offer to do all the cooking, relishing getting up early before anyone else was awake to start chopping, baking, prepping. Post-pandemic, I focus more on gathering together. Perhaps you want a stress-free holiday where you can simply take pleasure in joining family and friends, without being held to the kitchen timer. We’ve compiled a list of producers across the region offering mains, supplements, sides and sweets for your Thanksgiving dinner.
THANKSGIVING OFFERINGS FROM LOCAL PRODUCERS
SAVORY
CHARLOTTESVILLE
CROZET
ROANOKE
Crystal Springs Grocery, Mama Jean’s BBQ
SWEET
CHARLOTTESVILLE
Coucou Rachou, Mariebette, The Pie Chest
HARRISONBURG
LYNCHBURG
ROANOKE
STAUNTON
EVENTS
Have an event you’d like us to share? Email: info@edibleblueridge.com
11.12 Annual Oyster Roast, Cardinal Point Winery
11.12 Thomas Jefferson Wine Festival, Rebec Vineyards
FEATURED EVENT 11.24.22
Gather your flock this ThanksgivIng and run a 5k before the big meal. Across the region, communities come together Thanksgiving morning to raise funds to end hunger. Whether you run, jog, walk or wobble, find a 5k near you and support those who may need a hand this holiday season.
WHAT WE’RE COOKING
HARVEST PUMPKIN SOUP
This weekend looks to be a cold one! Warm up with this Harvest Pumpkin Soup. Recipe by Susan Huff, proprietor of The Soup Shop in Floyd, VA.
INGREDIENTS
2-3 tablespoons olive oil
2 large yellow onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 stalk celery, diced
1 cooking pumpkin, peeled and roasted until tender and cut into 1” cubes
1 teaspoon sea or kosher salt
1/4 cup red curry paste
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon white pepper
a dash of ground cinnamon, cayenne and cloves
1 bay leaf
4 cups vegetable broth or water
1 (14 ounce) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed-
2 cups kale leaves, torn into bite-size pieces, stems removed
DIRECTIONS
1. In a soup pot or large saucepan, heat the olive oil and sautee onion, garlic and celery over medium-low heat until tender. Add pumpkin and salt; saute 3-4 more minutes.
2. Add seasonings, broth, chickpeas and kale. Bring to a boil and simmer slowly for 25 minutes. Taste halfway through cooking and adjust seasonings if needed. Remove bay leaf before serving. Serve with crusty bread. Be sure to make a double batch and share some - feel free to switch out pumpkin for your favorite squash!!
POEM OF THE WEEK
Persimmons by Li-Young Lee In sixth grade Mrs. Walker slapped the back of my head and made me stand in the corner for not knowing the difference between persimmon and precision. How to choose persimmons. This is precision. Ripe ones are soft and brown-spotted. Sniff the bottoms. The sweet one will be fragrant. How to eat: put the knife away, lay down newspaper. Peel the skin tenderly, not to tear the meat. Chew the skin, suck it, and swallow. Now, eat the meat of the fruit, so sweet, all of it, to the heart. Donna undresses, her stomach is white. In the yard, dewy and shivering with crickets, we lie naked, face-up, face-down. I teach her Chinese. Crickets: chiu chiu. Dew: I’ve forgotten. Naked: I’ve forgotten. Ni, wo: you and me. I part her legs, remember to tell her she is beautiful as the moon. Other words that got me into trouble were fight and fright, wren and yarn. Fight was what I did when I was frightened, Fright was what I felt when I was fighting. Wrens are small, plain birds, yarn is what one knits with. Wrens are soft as yarn. My mother made birds out of yarn. I loved to watch her tie the stuff; a bird, a rabbit, a wee man. Mrs. Walker brought a persimmon to class and cut it up so everyone could taste a Chinese apple. Knowing it wasn’t ripe or sweet, I didn’t eat but watched the other faces. My mother said every persimmon has a sun inside, something golden, glowing, warm as my face. Once, in the cellar, I found two wrapped in newspaper, forgotten and not yet ripe. I took them and set both on my bedroom windowsill, where each morning a cardinal sang, The sun, the sun. Finally understanding he was going blind, my father sat up all one night waiting for a song, a ghost. I gave him the persimmons, swelled, heavy as sadness, and sweet as love. This year, in the muddy lighting of my parents’ cellar, I rummage, looking for something I lost. My father sits on the tired, wooden stairs, black cane between his knees, hand over hand, gripping the handle. He’s so happy that I’ve come home. I ask how his eyes are, a stupid question. All gone, he answers. Under some blankets, I find a box. Inside the box I find three scrolls. I sit beside him and untie three paintings by my father: Hibiscus leaf and a white flower. Two cats preening. Two persimmons, so full they want to drop from the cloth. He raises both hands to touch the cloth, asks, Which is this? This is persimmons, Father. Oh, the feel of the wolftail on the silk, the strength, the tense precision in the wrist. I painted them hundreds of times eyes closed. These I painted blind. Some things never leave a person: scent of the hair of one you love, the texture of persimmons, in your palm, the ripe weight.
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Eat Well,
Lisa