Warming Waffles

Having leftover squash usually means making soup, but I had just finished a batch and didn't think Mom would appreciate a rerun. The King Arthur Flour site posted a Gingerbread Waffle recipe that sounded intriguing, as my sister had stayed overnight and a special breakfast was in order. I opted to hybridize the recipe incorporating leftover squash from Christmas dinner plus the gingerbread theme, and it turned out to be a winner, especially with sliced ripe d'Anjou pear served on the waffles. I didn't measure, but here's an approximation that will work, give or take a splash or two of buttermilk. I started with about 1-1/2 cups of the squash puree, which had begun as a knobby, orange non-pumpkin (Kabocha?), oven-roasted and immersion blended. To the puree, I added 1/4 cup dark molasses, 2 T. Truvia, the equivalent of 2 eggs (Eggbeaters), about 1/3 cup coconut sugar (you could use brown sugar), plus 2 T. canola oil. To that mixture, I added 1/3 tsp. ground ginger, 1 tsp. cinnamon, and a pinch of cloves, plus a little sea salt. I used about 3/4 cup each of whole wheat pastry flour and unbleached flour, with 1 tsp. baking powder and 1/4 tsp. baking soda. I mixed the dry ingredients together with the liquid ingredients, just stirring enough to incorporate, which resulted in a fairly stiff dough that I thinned with buttermilk until it was the consistency of a thick pancake batter. The waffles were a hit, as they were light yet substantial enough that one made a perfect breakfast. I would not hesitate to use roasted sweet potatoes in a similar role.

Fruit Cake That's Not A Fruitcake

Our neighbors on both sides have been pleasant this year, unlike the bunch who used to live next door, up at all hours with lost friends who sometimes woke us rapping on the wrong window. In gratitude for the more sedate couple now residing to the west and the sweet pair to the east who are occasionally helpful to us two old ladies, in the spirit of the holidays, I was inspired to do some baking. The bulk section beckons this time of year with its cornucopia of dried fruits and nuts. I indulged and also bought some pecans and Plugra butter. Mom used to make fruitcakes every year, sending them to various family members around the country. Fruitcake is the butt of too many jokes, and I must admit that citron can be pretty rank, although Mom's candied grapefruit peel was toothsome. Her holiday date cakes were legendarily moist and yummy but over-the-top rich, particularly when iced. I would rather have a cake that's not so dense as to possibly stand in as a doorstop, containing smaller pieces of natural dried fruits, not citron. This batch makes four small loaves, which are great as gifts or can be frozen for later. I used disposable baking pans for the gifts. They are made of paper from Japan, 2 - 1/2" by 7", and do not have to be greased, or you could use small metal loaf pans sprayed with canola. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a large mixing bowl, combine: 1 - 1/2 cubes unsalted butter, room temperature; 1 - 1/2 cups coconut sugar (or use 1-1/4 cup brown sugar); 2 eggs; 1/3 cup agave syrup; 1/2 cup (one four-ounce cup) unsweetened applesauce. Cream together until eggs are incorporated and mixtured is lightened. Add: 1 cup chopped dates; 1/2 cup chopped dried apricots; 1/3 cup chopped dried pineapple (optional); 2/3 cup dried cranberries; 3/4 cup chopped pecans; 1 tsp. sea salt; 1 - 1/2 tsp. cinnamon; a pinch of cloves; 1/2 tsp. powdered ginger; 1/3 tsp. ground coriander; 1/3 tsp. grated nutmeg; and 1/3 tsp. ground cardamom. Stir above into creamed mixture, then add: 3/4 cup coconut flour; 1 cup whole wheat pastry flour; 1 - 3/4 cup unbleached flour; 1 tsp. soda; 1 - 1/2 tsp. baking powder; and 1 - 1/3 cup buttermilk Mix flour into the combined ingredients; do not overmix. The dough should not be as liquid as cake batter, but depending on the coconut flour and other ingredients, it could need a bit more moisture. Set your timer for 35 minutes. The center should be set and springy with a toothpick coming out clean and cracks developing in the top. If not, leave it in another five or so minutes. Note the array of spices in thise recipe, borne from the East by my sister, who brought back a bounty from India that sends wafts to my nose when I open that cupboard. Another sis just sent me a coffee grinder to be used only for spices, a Christmas gift resulting from our discussion of that wondrous largesse. A few cardamom pods were split down the side and their tiny contents delivered to the blade, followed by some real mace. The nutmeg was grated on a 'toy' grater, a gift a few years back from my youngest sister, who gave me tiny kitchen Christmas tree ornaments that are adorably true to life. Though I haven't tried the miniature copper pans for real, they look like they would deliver.