Food for Cold Movember Nights - Roasted Spaghetti Squash Risotto

Oh those cold, rattly, dark Movember nights. Are you one of those noble men who are growing a moustache for November? I tip my hat to you, sirs.

This post documents the life and times of a spaghetti squash that ended up in my kitchen. The squash arrived in magnificent form. It slept on the floor for several days before I posed it next to a Cambodian krama.

I put it in a 375 degree oven for about an hour and ten minutes. I saved its seeds. They were mixed with some olive oil, garlic powder, chili pepper and thyme. They roasted for about seven minutes. I shook them about and roasted them for another seven minutes. They were tasty. I had plans for the shells too.

Before I took a much needed afternoon nap, I scraped all the flesh out with a fork. The little tendrils of spaghetti squash tumbled into the waiting steel bowl. I recklessly left the bowl uncovered and took a nap.

I woke up several hours later and decided it was time for roasted spaghetti squash risotto. Using Biba Caggiano's recipe for roasted butternut squash risotto, I put six cups of Campbell's low-sodium chicken broth (the one that comes in the tetra box is pure genius) on to heat in a small pot. I minced up one small yellow onion and put that into a pot that was foaming with a tablespoon of butter mixed in with two tablespoons of olive oil. After the onion turned pale and soft, I added two cups of Arborio rice.

I stirred the rice until it was well coated with buttery onion. I didn't have any white wine on hand so I used a half cup of Noilly Prat. After that cooked off, I began adding the hot broth half a cup at a time, stirring until it was almost completely absorbed before adding another half cup for twelve minutes.

I added about two to three cups of the roasted squash in small batches. I continued to add half cups of broth, stirring until the squash was mixed in well. I grated half a teaspoon of nutmeg into the pot and added a one-third cup of chopped up goat cheese (I used up the last of le moutier I brought from Toronto). Biba's recipe called for Parmigiano-Reggiano, but as I can't eat that, I replaced it with goat cheese with great success. I tested for salt and finished the risotto with a small teaspoon of butter.

Ciaran honoured Biba by finding a languishing block of Parmigiano-Reggiano in the cheese box to enthusiastically grate over his bowl. I abandoned my plan to serve the risotto in the hollowed out shell and opted for golden bowls instead. The result? Deliciously velvety risotto; the depth of its flavour suitably darkened by the freshly grated nutmeg. Good cold Movember night food.

Toronto Foodie: The Things Luscious Domestic Bought

Ever wonder why your dates are sold with that plastic stick in the middle?

For a foodie with diverse tastes, Toronto is a marvellous place to shop in. From the South Asian shops on Gerrard Street to the vast varieties of produce in the St. Lawrence Market, the fine bread in Little Italy or the Quebecois cheeses of the Distillery District, one only needs a fistful of cash and a large suitcase to lug the treasures home.

First stop: Gerrard Street. Also known as Little India, rumour has it that it's being taken over by Tamils. Being Tamil myself, it seemed like a logical thing to check it out.  I couldn't resist fresh dates for $3.99 a pound. Fresh dates are surprisingly good with Hendricks gin.

After picking up some fresh curry leaves I vowed to dry later, I hopped back onto the public limo and wended my way up to the St. Lawrence Market.

Curry leaves are instrumental in southern Indian and Sri Lankan cooking. Curry powder is not made with curry leaves. When they're fresh, they have an aromatic, distinct tannic scent that's unique to the leaf. The Toronto foodie series will have a feature on Tamil love food. Curry leaves will definitely be included.

Lugging my bag of fruit, curry leaves and some miscellaneous steel cookingware I picked up in Little India, walked past the Sultan's Tent and Cafe Maroc (a great place to eat in Toronto) and finally arrived at the St. Lawrence Market.

I was a little pinched for time. I was supposed to meet an old friend for dinner in less than an hour at Guu Izakaya. I had just enough time to wander for a little bit.

The St. Lawrence Market has been around for over 200 years. It is primarily known for its fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses and other fine produce.

After longingly eyeing cataracts of jewel-toned fruit and conceding I could only purchase something small, I came across a stand that specialized in selling only mustard and horseradish.

The word "mustard" comes from the Middle English word "mustarde" which means condiment. Although mustard was first cultivated in India around 3000 BC, Canada now produces 90 per cent of the world's mustard and has the world's oldest mustard mill.

I picked up some eye-watering horseradish whose pungency won me over at first taste.

The proprietor gave me some good advice. Always store your horseradish upside down on its lid. It retains its pungency much longer this way, and lasts for about three to four months in the fridge.

A few days later, I recklessly purchased four types of goat cheese in the Distillery District.

I was so excited to share the cheese when I arrived home that I forgot to photograph them before we opened them up.

However, here are the four types: ash-cured Fromages Chaput Prestige, le Moutier, Fleur des Monts and la tomme du Haut-Richelieu. All from Quebec, all entirely amazing.

Le Moutier is my favourite with its sweet, grassy taste. It's made in the only cheese dairy in North America that's run by Benedictine monks.

The final foodie damage was committed at an unassuming Turkish bakery. There was a marvellous assortment of baklava, pastries and cookies, but as I can't eat them, I settled on lokum.

Three kinds of lokum, to be precise. All delicately flavoured, not too sweet and not too starchy. Lokum is known by many names across the Middle East, Central Asia and Southern Europe.

The sort pictured here are not the jelly-like soft and saccharine squares of Turkish Delight you might find in a North American candy shop. These pieces were almost too beautiful to share. Thanks to Gokhan and Heather for gifting an entire bagful of these to me.

Toronto. How I love your foodie friendly shops.