Prosciutto, Goat Cheese and Fig Jam on an Eggnog/Butternut Crust (Pizza Night!)

An eggnog/butternut squash pizza crust topped with prosciutto, goat cheese, and fig jam

I wish I had some sort of clever little story about how this pizza came to be.  The plain fact is that my son found half gallons of eggnog for 50 cents after Christmas last year and I figured I'd get one and play around with it.  I also had the Strategic Winter Squash Reserve staring at me balefully, wanting to be included in everything.  So, since I had my 'shred a butternut squash' epiphany, I decided I'd put some in pizza crusts.  That worked out just fine, so I cast a wider net.  I figured the color of the butternut squash would only enhance an eggnog crust (whereas beets or kale in an eggnog crust would be . . . . just wrong).  I knew the eggnog would make a slightly sweet crust, and I love sweet and salty blends, so perhaps this is the right time to try my favorite combo:  prosciutto, goat cheese, and fig jam. [That combo comes directly from a George Foreman grill cookbook--put that in a panini and smash it and you are in for a real treat.]  

This crust is a marvel.  It's pillowy and soft thanks to the dairy, yet it bakes up firm enough to stand up like a regular slice of pizza.  It's very slightly sweet.  [If you're wanting a dessert pizza crust using eggnog, add a tablespoon or two of sugar to the crust, and sweet toppings.] My topping combo totally works with this crust--perhaps even better than on a plain crust.  It is delicious and if you find yourself with some butternut squash (leftover roasted mashed would also work fine) and a spare half cup of eggnog, give this a try. It's a StrangeButGood combination!

I've revamped my Visual Recipe Index! For more ideas on what to do with your butternut squash, click here.

Cranberry Apple Pecan Tangerine Mini Muffins

These were for a gathering and I dusted them with cinnamon sugar before baking.

It's all about the leftovers, isn't it?

When I made this bread I had leftover Cranberry-Apple-Pecan mixture.  I froze it, since I am big on the "What do I do with this?  I dunno.  I'd better toss it in the freezer" method of dealing with things.

The paperwork for my taxes is not in my freezer.

Luckily, I married a wonderful man whose wonderful mom prepares taxes for a living, otherwise my tax paperwork would be in the freezer with random assorted bags of vegetables and fruits.  And Butch.

I enjoy the cranberry-citrus combination (and will soon be blessed with Band Fruit Fundraiser citrus, stay tuned for a recipe round up next month) so I decided to add some tangerine to these muffins.  I was making up a frightfully orange smoothie (Tangerine-Carrot-Banana) and since I'd gotten the blender out, I blended up a tangerine first for the muffin batter before continuing with the rest of the smoothie.  If you're not mixing up a smoothie, just chop up a tangerine and add it to the batter, or get fancy and remove the juicy flesh and toss the scaffolding* in the compost.  Alternatively, give the remnants to the composting pig as she'll eat almost anything (her late roommate would eat anything).
Don't give it to the worms--they don't care for citrus.

Spicy Kale Pizza Dough with Mushrooms and Cheese

Sautéed mushrooms and kale with cottage cheese on a spicy kale pizza crust

Food takes time.

Food requires relationships.

Food requires connections.

When Sherry Chen of the BW Greenway said the above words at a recent local foods summit those words struck me.

Food takes time.

Feeding my family from our CSA farm share [yeah, I was part of the choir at that local foods summit. I don't have the raw data, but I know we're eating more than the 10% locally sourced food we were to pledge to eat.  100% of the beets, turnips, fresh figs and radishes for sure] means, for the most part, I am the one taking the time to make the food.  And when that food is not necessarily enjoyed by the entire household it can be hard to justify taking the time for just me.

But--I'm worth it.  And you are, too.

This is a convoluted way of saying that the pizza I'm sharing is more of a personal-sized pizza.  I did not consume the whole pie in one sitting, but if I'd been hungry enough I would have.  I made it knowing I'd be the only one to eat it, and that's fine by me.  It gave me a satisfactory answer to Sherry's question:

Who is fixing your dinner?  Someone has to grow, harvest, and prepare each meal.  

Even if it's not you.