Pasta from the Freezer, the Pantry, the Fridge

Gone are the days of frenetic food buying. You know the kind. The kind where you walk, briskly, into your favorite grocery store, dutifully carrying your list. The list you made after actually taking the time to plan meals for the week. Just the week. Not something crazy like a month of meals but still, a week of planned meals. And, seeing as though you're quite proud of yourself for your organization, you smile a bit smugly as you tighten your grip on that list and dash in the entrance to the store...although not before grabbing a cart and sanitizing yourself and the cart from head to toe. No time for the flu.

You enter the store and begin traversing it in your usual manner. A loaf of blueberry bread here, a 1/2 pound of sliced turkey there. Check. Check. And then, you make a gentle turn and find yourself veering off the appointed path and heading straight to the latte counter. You tell yourself it's okay since with all the list making you forgot to eat a proper breakfast and you can feel the dull ache of a headache in the works. The caffeine will surely be the cure.

Back on the path, you find that even though you've been in this store hundreds of times and it's practically your home away from home, you're starting to feel overwhelmed by the list and trying to find the corresponding aisles for the products you need. So, you just start going up and down each one. Hunger is gaining on you. The time is ticking away. The caffeine just doesn't seem to be helping and now, you just start throwing things in your cart. "Ah, the baby's favorite crackers." (I know, I know. He's not a baby anymore but humor me, and just let me call him that.) "Voila...my dear daughter's beloved tapioca." "Some more dried blueberries for my sweetie." "Doesn't the 10-year old love Honeycrisp apples?" And, so on and so forth and before you know it, your cart is brimming, half with items off your list and half from items you just tossed in.

Arriving home, you find that there are already two unopened boxes of the baby's favorite crackers waiting in the wings, two uneaten containers of tapioca in the fridge and your sweetie and the 10-year old are a bit burnt out on the dried blueberries and Honeycrisp apples. So, you give yourself a gentle scolding and tell yourself you'll try to do better next time. Stick to the list.

Fast forward a bit and you've arrived at the "Great Recession" and with a nod to the economy, you force yourself to exercise restraint. To stick to the list. To use up what you have. And you remember trips to your Grandmother's house. Trips in which you would explore her fridge, her freezer and....down, in the deep, dark basement her "deep freeze". That fascinating, "space-agey" contraption. At her house, you would always find an assortment of jars covered in foil and filled with last night's meal. Little bits of food rolled up in tin foil. And, frozen ice cream pops in the shape of Santa. Nothing put down the drain. Nothing thrown in the trash. And, you recall, how once a week, your own mother would pull out all of the leftovers from that week's meals and lay them on the table...from reheated stew to a scoop of stuffing to 5 green beans. And, you remember how much you liked leftover night. Your own personal buffet. And, you always looked forward to those 5 green beans...but then, again, you have a thing for green beans especially these green beans.

And so, even though you sometimes miss the "Roaring 90's", you realize that restraint is good. It forces us to prioritize. To make decisions. And, you insist to yourself that you'll stick to the list. And, what's more....before making the list, you'll force yourself to get up out of your chair and actually take a look in the pantry, the fridge, the freezer. What is lurking in there? What needs to be used up? And, there, in the back of the freezer a little bit of sunshiney orange will catch your eye. "Ah-hah!" The leftover butternut squash you threw in the freezer after making this soup. Which is perfect since you just came across a recipe you're dying to try and it calls for...what else...but butternut squash. And you'll smile a bit smugly to yourself. Feeling quite proud of not just your organization...but your resourcefulness to use up what you have.

Pasta from the Freezer, the Pantry, the Fridge

(aka Orecchiette with Pancetta, Butternut Squash and Broccolini)

From Louisa Neumann of The Portland Pickle

Truth be told, I would have never thought to put pancetta, butternut squash and broccolini together in a dish and top them off with pepitas. Not only would I have not put them together but I could never have imagined how absolutely delicious they are together. The way the salty pancetta plays off the sweetness of the squash....yum!! Last summer, I stumbled upon Louisa Neumann's delightful blog, The Portland Pickle. I love being surprised by the little gems of food knowledge that she passes along to all of us with her posts. Besides writing and managing her blog, she is also a personal culinary instructor, a caterer and can be found regularly teaching classes at In Good Taste in the Pearl District. Many of you know how I feel about my children learning to cook (if you don't, click here) so I look forward to signing them up for one of Louisa's children's cooking classes.

In the meantime, I thoroughly enjoyed this recipe of Louisa's that I filed away last fall, just waiting for some leftover butternut squash. And, in case you were wondering, my kids loved it just as much as I did.

Ingredients:

2 cups butternut squash, cut into 1/2-inch dice

Extra-virgin olive oil

Kosher salt

1/2 bunch broccoli rabe, tough lower stems removed, cut into thirds

(I was unable to locate broccoli rabe at my grocery store so I substituted in broccoli which I realize is not the same thing at all as broccoli rabe but it turned out delicious.....)

3/4 c pancetta, diced (I used "thick sliced" Boar's Head pancetta from the deli counter)

Pinch of crushed red pepper

2 cups orecchiette pasta

1/2 cup grated parmesan

1/4 cup green pumpkin seeds (pepitas) (I found mine at Trader Joe's)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Toss the squash with olive oil and salt and place in a single layer on a sheet tray and bake in the over until soft, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and reserve.

Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Set up a bowl of well-salted ice water.

Drop the broccoli rabe (or broccoli, if you're like me) into the pot of boiling water, swirl it around, remove from the water and immediately plunge into the salty ice water. (If you're using broccoli, let it cook for about 4 minutes). Reserve the boiling water to cook the pasta in. Remove the broccoli rabe (broccoli) from the ice water, squeeze or drain out excess water and reserve.

Coat a large saute pan with olive oil and add the pancetta and crushed red pepper. Bring the pan to a medium heat and cook the pancetta until brown and crispy. When the pancetta is brown and crispy, add about 3/4 cup of the broccolini cooking water. Simmer until the water reduces by half. (The original recipe has you adding the squash in here as well but I was worried about the squash getting...well, squishy and squashy so I waited and added it later.)

Add the orecchiette to the reserved boiling broccoli rabe water and cook until the pasta is al dente, about 1 minute less than the cooking time says on the box.

Remove the pasta from the water and add to the pan with the pancetta. Add the broccolini and about a 1/2 cup of the pasta cooking water but be very, very careful here, since you are adding water to oil and it gets rather combustible. Gently add your butternut squash here. Cook until the water has evaporated and the sauce clings to the pasta. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with the grated parmesan. Gently combine all the ingredients.

Spoon into a dish. Top with a little more grated parmesan and the pepitas. Enjoy.

Yield: Serves 2 - This is what the original recipe says but I was able to feed myself and 3 children from this. Definitely no leftovers though which is a shame since I can't stop thinking about this dish so I would recommend that you at least double the recipe. You won't be sorry.

NOTE: Whatever you do, don't skimp on the pancetta. It's needed to balance out the sweetness of the butternut squash. If anything, you can cut back on the squash a little. Enjoy....

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

The Ultimate "Chick" Soup with Butternut Squash and Apples

I love to putter. Putter, as in, being able to wake-up alarmless, make a cup of tea, start to unload the dishwasher and then, leaving the door wide open, satisfy a sudden desire to peruse through my favorite food blogs upon which half-way through the list, I am seized by an urgent need to tidy up the "lego droppings" scattered here and there. Realizing the "trail" is just too long, I abandon that project, plop down on the couch and flip through my book "Life is Meals". After scanning it like a mad woman, I hop up and pay one bill. Satisfied with that progress, I shuffle over to the counter, toast a piece of New Season's unbelievable stollen with the marzipan center, after which I return to finish unloading the dishwasher while enjoying every bite of the sweet, holiday bread with the fruit bits. (Either I have a mild case of ADD or I'm hoping to provide inspiration for an adult version of Laura Numeroff's books.)

Now, I need to be able to putter for at least two mornings a week. Doesn't matter which days, but it must be two. If I don't get this putter time, my face starts to freeze up with stress from being overscheduled. The muscles around my eyes become so hardened I feel as though I have owl eyes and I'm sure to onlookers, my pinched face looks something like this. So, here we are in the midst of the holidays and do you think I'm getting my putter time? What, with all the buying and parking and dashing through the rain and wrapping and ribbon tying and baking and singing and piano playing and eating and addressing and cooking and driving and basketball game watching and cleaning and painting and edging and taping and clutter-busting. (A few weekends ago, I was seized by a sudden urge to paint the 10-year old's bedroom. Why on earth...?) And, then, there's all the noise, noise, noise, noise from the over-excited children hyped up on sugar. Calgon? Wine? Tylenol PM? No, I was going on at least, Day 17 of no puttering.

I have dear friends who will not disagree with the thought that I may be genetically defected in regards to my "femaleness". I do not like to shop. I start to hyperventilate inside malls. The claustrophobia. I did not get the shopping gene. I loathe it. I would rather rake leaves. A few years ago, my dear, dear, sweet husband realized that he must take over the bulk of the Christmas shopping in order to save the sanity of his genetically defected wife. This summer, as my daughter was skipping through the mall, acquiring articles of clothing for "Back to School," I was sitting on the infamous "bench" texting my husband statements such as, "Please don't let this be my last day on earth." "Save me."

When I left the house this morning, my face was frozen up like the "Icewoman Cometh." I dropped the 4-year old off at his playdate, whipped into his preschool to play the piano for the delightful 3-year old Holiday Performance and then, glancing at the clock and my list of errands (which included a reluctant trip to the mall), concluded that I had exactly 1 hour and 15 minutes to hit 6 places...which, if I did my math right, would be exactly 12.5 minutes per each stop and I had yet to factor in the driving time...before the playdate was over. Overwhelmed and struck by indecision, I headed to Powell's. It was out of the way. Not even the highest priority on the list but there I went, almost on auto-pilot.

As I walked into that City of Books, I immediately started to relax. Something about the way that row after row of books somehow seems to diminish the hard edges of noise. Absorbing the sound. Making it quieter. More hushed. As I strolled past the stacks of untapped knowledge, latte in hand, my mind started to think less about my list of errands and more about the possibility of finding a good book. I found myself looking at each spine, pulling the captivating ones from the shelf, turning them over, flipping open the jacket flap, putting them back and moving on to the next one. I went from cooking to staff favorites to travel to children's. I found the pile in my basket growing as I tossed in books I was just sure would cause the children to squeal with excitement upon finding them under the tree. I lost track of time as I continued down every row, putting in a few for me "From Santa". Yes, I was puttering. My spirits were lifted. I was excited. My mind seemed less burdened. My face less frozen. I thought, "This is how most women must feel puttering around a shoe department."

I didn't make it to one other stop on my list and barely made it in time to pick-up my littlest one. With him in tow, we headed for home. Starving, I heated up a mug of leftover Butternut Squash and Apple soup from my annual holiday dinner with my one-of-a-kind book club. (aka: The Amazing Book Babes.) Making sure the littlest one was out-of-site...creating yet another "trail of legos", I'm sure...I pulled the books from the bag. I smiled at the thought of the recipient opening up each book for the first time. To discover. To imagine. To lose track of time. So, maybe it's not shopping I loathe but certain kinds of shopping. As long as it feels like puttering, well, then, I guess it's alright by me.

The Ultimate "Chick" Soup with Butternut Squash and Apples

(Ina Garten's Butternut Squash and Apple Soup)

My husband, my brother-in-law and other males I have been associated with throughout my life have been known to relegate certain foods to the "Chick's Only" category. These food items include, but are not limited to, quiche, risotto, brie, spinach salad with dried fruit bits, chopped nuts and crumbled gorgonzola and this butternut squash and apple soup. Well, I don't care. I love it but then, I'm a chick. I find it has just the perfect amount of curry to counter the sweetness of the apples and squash. So, the next time you get together with the girls, take the little bit of extra effort to put this soup together. You'll please the vegetarians and the gluten-frees alike. I follow Ina's recipe exactly as written, so you can make it from here or click on the link above and go to the Food Network page where you can print it out should you so desire.

2 tbsp unsalted butter

2 tbsp good olive oil

4 cups, chopped yellow onions (3 large)

2 tbsp mild curry powder

5 pounds butternut squash (2 large)

1 1/2 pounds sweet apples, such as McIntosh (4 apples) I used Golden Delicious

2 tsp kosher salt

1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper

2 cups good apple juice or cider

Warms the butter and olive oil in a large stockpot over low heat. Add the onions and curry powder and cook, uncovered, for 15 to 20 minutes, until the onions are tender. Stir occasionally, scraping the bottom of the pot.

Peel the squash, cut in half and remove the seeds. Cut the squash into chunks. Peel, quarter and core the apples. Cut into chunks.

Add the squash, apples, salt, pepper and 2 cups of water to the pot. Bring to a boil, then cover, reduce the heat to low and cook for 30 to 40 minutes, until the squash and apples are very soft. Now, Ina's directions are as follows: Process the soup through a food mill fitted with a large blade or puree it coarsely in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade; however, I do not partake in that kind of cooking craziness. I simply whip out my 17-year old hand held blender and puree the soup right in the pot.

Add the apples juice and enough water to make the soup the consistency you like; it should be slightly sweet and quite thick. Check the salt and pepper and serve hot.

Yield: 3 1/2 quarts

All original text and photographs, copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Oh, Ye, Benevolent Butternut Squash Minestrone

With Herculean effort, I was dragging the bag, filled with the remnants of my vegetable garden, up the never-ending flight of stairs and muttering to myself about what a hair-brained idea of mine it had been to put the garden back there. What kept me going; however, was knowing that my dear, sweet children were in the front yard, dutifully performing their family project for that weekend - raking the leaves. I was anticipating the relief I would feel once I saw the pristine lawn and beds, all of which was to be made possible by their kindhearted effort.

(Yes, that is a spider man band-aid on my finger. Click here to learn how to peel and dice butternut squash without impaling yourself.)

As I mounted the last stair and peeked around the garage, I was met with silence. I stood there perplexed. Confused. Not a sole (or a rake) in sight. "Huh. Where did they all go?" I looked at the lawn. Better...but still a layer of leaves. The beds were still chock full of leaves and the water run-off gully was still clogged. With my load of yard debris still at my side, I could feel myself getting worked up. I heaved the bag over to the side of the garage and slammed it down. In long, heavy strides, I crossed to the front door, opened it up and yelled, "Where are you guys?" The eldest and the youngest, immediately surfaced, (already sporting slippers and warm sweaters) claiming, "We thought we were done." The 10-year old came out of his commando hiding spot about 10 minutes later, grinning but clearly, guilty. I, meanwhile, had grabbed a rake and started to forcefully rake up at least 10 more piles. Stewing. Talking to myself. Saying things like, "Why do I have to be the only one to do these things?" "What am I raising here...a bunch of royalty?" "Oh, I bet their enjoying their time in front of the TV, playing legos, reading a good book while I'm out here RAKING! In the freezing COLD!"

(In case you were wondering about my main squeeze, he was upstairs doing the laundry. We have a bit of a role reversal here in our family.)

I have found that, sometimes, I do my best parenting when I'm tired, have run out of patience and have worked myself up into a frenzy. So, in that moment of frenetic leaf raking, "The Benevolence Jar" was born.

Later that evening at our family dinner, I presented the concept behind "The Benevolence Jar". (My dear, sister can't get past the fact that I named it The Benevolence Jar and yes, maybe that was a bit over the top but still...it sounds important, distinguished.)

"Do you know what benevolence means? Anyone?" Silence. "I define benevolence as not just being kind but having the wisdom to know why you are being kind. Like last night, Daddy picked up dinner for us, served it and did all the dishes to be kind, yes, but also, because he knew I was tired. When you say, "Good Morning," to your brothers and sisters you do it to be kind, yes, but also to show that you care about them." I went on with more examples, a speech about how a family needs to operate like a team with everyone pitching in and so on and so forth. Unsure of what was to come, the kids remained silent. Then, I laid two jars on the table. One filled halfway with pennies. One empty but labeled "Benevolence."

"You three will need to work together to fill "The Benevolence Jar." You do so by performing one or more of these acts of kindness that I've put here on the list." I unrolled the single spaced list, at least three sheets long, that I had typed up upon coming inside from the leaf frenzy. "I will tape this to the refrigerator for your reference."

"Each night at dinner we will go around the table and you can toot your own horn about the kind things you have done that day in regards to our family. You're on the honor system here since I can't be watching you at every moment. Should you behave selfishly or cruelly to members of this family, well, then, a penny will come out of the benevolence jar and you will need to earn it again. Once the jar is filled, I will treat you to a trip to Skinnidip, a round of bowling, an afternoon movie or an evening of board games. Your choice. We start tomorrow." From the sparkle I detected in their eyes, I could tell that the game was on.

For the first week, pennies were going in the jar for clearing dishes, emptying backpacks and lunch boxes without complaining, remembering to say, "Good morning" or "How was your day?" to family members. The boys were the first ones to have pennies come out of the jar, one for teasing, one for biting. I packed up those jars and hauled them with us to Central Oregon where we spent a glorious, snowy Thanksgiving week with Nana and Papa. Have benevolence, will travel.

As the days went by, I began to notice a difference in their behavior. Instead of busting past his little brother to get to the sink first for hand-washing, the 10-year old consciously slowed down and let his brother go first. I found them asking more and more often, "Is there anything else I can do?" "Mom, can I clear your dishes?" Of course, there were times when the whole process was a bit questionable, such as when the 12-year old, in teen-speak, says to the teary, 4-year old, "Hey, I'm sorry I said "Chilladelphia" to you, but you are waaaaay past spicy." To which he replies, "I just don't want to hear that." To which, I comment, "Thank you for using your words to tell your sister that instead of screaming." And, the competitive, 10-year old, focused on filling the jar, perks up, saying, "Penny in the jar?"

Back at home, the eve before returning to school/work, I put down bowls of Butternut Squash Minestrone (aka: Old Mother Hubbard Went to the Cupboard and These Were the Ingredients She Found) and some warm, cheddar biscuits. Six pennies were left to be put in "The Benevolence Jar." At this point, however, they were pros and they ticked them right off with things like, "Not only helping us load and pack the car for coming home without complaining but asking us what else you could do to help even when that meant taking out the garbage." "For waiting and allowing your sister to climb into the back of the car first instead of busting your way in and making her climb over you." And the last penny, went in for the littlest one, "For not acting goofy when sitting on Santa's lap. Nicely talking to him about your list and explaining the pictures you drew. Remembering to tell him "Thank You" when you were done."

As with anything, I'm sure the novelty will wear off, but I can enjoy it for now, can't I? And, perhaps, if I can get one last, "job well-done" family rake project under my belt, it will all be worth it.

When we were done eating, the 10-year old dumped the pennies out of "The Benevolence Jar" and back to their starting position. He then, flipped a penny back into the jar, and skipped off toward the kitchen sink, hollering, "Cleared my dishes without complaining." And so, we begin again.

Oh, Ye, Benevolent Butternut Squash Minestrone

As I'm sure you can relate, I returned home after a week of being gone, to rather bare cupboards. Not in the mood to head out to the grocery store, I decided to evaluate what I had on hand. The rather, phallic, butternut squash that had been sitting on the counter for weeks immediately cried out to me as if it was equipped with an alarm. And, so, I built this soup dish around him. Not having any bread on hand either, I pulled out this old biscuit recipe from the recipe box and threw in a handful of minced chives from the chives in my yard who have clearly not read the memo stating that winter is almost here and it's time to stop growing. Enjoy.

2 tbsp olive oil

1 leek, white and light green parts, chopped

1 med onion, chopped

1 1/2 c carrots, about 3, diced

2 celery stalks, diced

1 1/2 c butternut squash, diced (dice up and freeze your remaining squash for future recipes)

4 sprigs of thyme

2 tbsp fresh sage, chopped

1 bay leaf

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

2 qt chicken broth

2 med white boiling potatoes, cubed

1 15-oz can of cannellini beans, drained and rinsed

1/2 cup orzo pasta

freshly, grated parmesan cheese

Heat your olive oil in a large soup pot. Add your leek, onion, carrots and celery and saute about 10 minutes, until your onions are transluscent. Add your butternut squash, thyme, sage, bay leaf, salt and pepper and potatoes to the pot. Pour in your chicken stock, cover and bring to a boil. With your lid askew, simmer for about 30-40 minutes or until your veggies are soft. Add the beans and the pasta. At a high simmer, cook for another 10 minutes, or until pasta is cooked through. If you plan to let your soup simmer on the stove for longer than 40 minutes, do not add your beans and pasta until closer to when you plan to serve your soup.

Ladle into shallow bowls and serve with the parmesan cheese and salt and pepper. Add a basket of warm biscuits and some sliced, apples or pears and dinner is served.

Yield: A big "pot-full." Enough for a family of 5 with leftovers to pop into thermoses the next day for lunch away from home.

Cheddar Cheese Biscuits

1 1/2 c white flour

1 1/2 c whole, wheat pastry flour

1 1/2 tbsp baking powder

1 tbsp sugar

2 1/4 tsp salt

2 1/2 c heavy cream

1 cup grated, sharp cheddar cheese

2 tbsp minced chives (optional)

3 tbsp butter

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Combine flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Add cream, cheese and chives and stir gently with a wooden spoon, mixing just until dough holds together.

Turn dough out onto a lightly floured work surface. Knead once or twice, just enough to incorporate cream and cheese into flour mixture. Handle dough as little as possible, or biscuits will not rise.

Roll out dough about 1" thick on a lightly floured work surface. Cut with a 1 3/4" biscuit cutter or a champagne flute. Place biscuits about 2" apart on ungreased cookie sheets, then set aside for 10 minutes. Allowing dough to rest at this stage will produce taller, lighter biscuits. (Biscuits, once cut, may be frozen.)

Melt butter in a small skillet over low heat, then cool slightly. (Or pop in the microwave for about 20 seconds.) Brush biscuit tops with butter. Bake until golden brown, about 20 minutes. Serve warm from the oven.

Biscuits are best eaten immediately, but can be reheated for 5-10 minutes in a 300 degree oven. Frozen biscuits may be baked without thawing. Bake in a preheated 300 degree oven for 20 minutes, then increase heat to 350 degrees and bake for 5 more minutes.

Yield: about 40 biscuits. I have "halved" this recipe with great success.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Portland Food Carts: Savor Soup House

Once every six weeks or so, I enter “La Salon” and I emerge…drum roll, please…The Breck Shampoo girl. Silky, smooth, flip through the air hair. Fan anyone? All the days in between, I prefer the air-dry method for my crazy, curly hair that can only be tamed with a hair band – in other words, I, yikes, tend to leave the house with wet hair. Every mother’s nightmare which I can attest to seeing as when on the very rare occasion that my own daughter leaves with wet hair I cringe and yet, here I am, a grown woman doing it more often than she. (And, in case you were wondering if this is a genetically passed down defect…no. My own mother never looks anything but beautifully put together at all moments of every day and she has never…I repeat NEVER...left the house with wet hair or without her lipstick on. My sister can back me up on this one.)

To my good fortune, once I emerge from “La Salon”, I am but a few, hair-flipping steps away from the Portland Food Carts at Southwest 10th and Alder. Those food carts that have created quite the buzz around town. What Karen Brooks of The Oregonian calls, “[Those] block-long shantytowns that are the food courts of the future.” And she goes on to further report that there are 450 of them around town with 32 more under review. My, my! I find them intriguing. I’ll eat almost anything…but my family won’t…so I look at those food carts as a chance for me to enlighten my taste buds without the accompanied whining from the boys and without having to pay a babysitter. And, what’s more, I have wanted to set a goal for myself to try each one but in years past, my trip to “La Salon” never coincided with enough time but now, new school year, new schedule…new goal.

In all my sassiness, I practically skipped the half block to my destination. And, what could only make a good hair day better, was the gentle breeze about, swirling up the crispy, yellow maple leaves. The air was warm – 65 degrees warm - and the sun was set in the sky at just the right angle to render a glistening effect on everything it touched. A perfect fall day in Portland. I didn’t make it far into the “shantytown” as first on my list to try was “Savor Soup House” which managed to snag a perfect bit of real estate right on the corner. I love soup. I’m drawn to places serving soup and so…soup it was.

While I waited…and waited….and waited…for my turn (good things come to those who wait, right?)…I struggled with whether to try the Potato Leek Soup topped with fried leeks or the Red Lentil Stew with butternut squash and saffron topped with peanuts and cilantro and served over brown rice. And not to mention, the menu for the “Grilled Cheese Bar – Create Your Masterpiece!” looked particularly tantalizing as well. I also wondered where I would sit once I had my soup. I noticed that some tables had signs with proprietorship designated on them and some did not. A Portlander at the single table for “Savor Soup House” graciously offered to share hers with a young couple with a delightful drawl to their speech and their 3-year old son with his new “Artoo Potatoo” in hand. Still waiting, I watched as an older gentleman in rolled up army fatigue pants pushed his bike along the sidewalk. A dog carrier attached to the back and a shih tzu curled up in a basket attached to the front. From the west of me drifted the sounds of the Clan Macleay Pipe Band and from the east, a solo, electric guitar sending out hits from the 70s – Stairway to Heaven, Into the Mystic, Old Man. And, occasionally, a car alarm would go off and take center stage.

My turn, at last. I chose the Lentil Stew since it was the special of the day. I figured I could have the Potato Leek anytime. I gratefully took my bundle of soup and bread from the one-woman show and set off to find a place to sit and enjoy my meal. Passing the tables clearly marked with ownership, I sat down at what appeared to be a free table. No sooner had I planted my bahookie than a woman waving a dishrag came flying out of the Snow White Crepe Cart shooing me away from my location like a mouse in the kitchen. Note to self: Table proprietorship is very strict here in the Portland Food Carts. I finally saddled up to a “street lighting” box, used it as a table and set out my meal. And, although, my soup was less than piping hot at this point, I still enjoyed every mouthful of butternut squash mingled with the lentils, chopped peanuts, cilantro and rice. I breathed deeply. I looked up and marveled at the way the light, the buildings and the trees created such a dazzling spectacle. I noticed that the man with the shih tzu was sitting at the table from where I had been shooed, eating a crepe. A couple high on something more than life added their color to the picture and the battle of the bands continued in the background as I devoured every scrumptious mouthful.

Without glancing at a watch (since I don’t actually wear one seeing as that they are all in my watch graveyard with dead batteries,) I could tell that my carriage was just about to turn into a pumpkin. School would be out soon and some little ones would be waiting for me. I tossed my empty bowl in the can and began making my way out of the food cart village. I read through the signs of establishments that may become future dining experiences. And then, me and my “sassy hair blowing in the wind” headed back up the street, past the Macleay Pipe Band, to the car and back home.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009