the whole plate.

I think I was destined to fall in love with cooking – it’s in my blood.  My family has been cooking for generations.  Our traditional dishes [blintzes, apple pie] were carried across the Atlantic and through Ellis Island by my great-grandparents.  My grandmother has often shared stories of her cooking trials and triumphs as a young newlywed [a personal favorite: her attempt to burn feathers off a chicken with a match in one hand, chicken in the other].  My mother began cooking for herself in her mid-twenties, and she hasn’t slowed since.

I have to credit my mom for my meager attempts to cook throughout college.  Though my dinners were likely one of three dishes: pasta, an omelet, or a broiled chicken breast, having a staple dinner or two that I could create with my own hands was still…something.  Back then, though nutrition was far from my thoughts, I still prepared weeknight meals on my own.  It never occurred to me to purchase fast food, a frozen meal, or order a pizza.  

Those simply weren’t a part of my adolescence – my mother had a meal on the table every weekday evening, and she cooked that meal herself.  In the world I knew, that was how people lived, and it was rather shocking to discover how misguided that assumption truly was.

I’m beyond grateful for that upbringing, even if some things have changed throughout the generations.  While my mother promised my father she would find a new way for him to enjoy chicken for every year of their marriage [she has about tripled that], I find myself dabbling instead in experiments that swap the poultry for the likes of almonds or chickpeas.  

The ingredients may have changed, but the joy of cooking remains.  We see the ingredients before they become a meal; we fuse them into a dish ourselves.  Dinner in my family has never come from a box – it comes from our hands.

And so, it is unsurprising that yesterday afternoon, I found myself brainstorming uses for the pumpkin purée left in my refrigerator.  When my stomach informed me that dinnertime was looming, I couldn’t wait to give this one a try.

scallops with oatmeal risotto and pumpkin-tahini sauce (for one)

• 4 oz sea scallops
• 1/2 c rolled oats
• 3/4 c vegetable broth
• 1/2 c non-dairy milk (I used hemp for the creaminess factor)
• 1 t nutritional yeast
• 2 c kale, finely chopped (optional, but adds color and nutrition)

for the sauce:

• 2 T pumpkin puree
• 1/2 T tahini
• 1/2 T lemon juice
• 1/4 t cumin
• tiny pinch garlic powder
• 1-2 T non-dairy milk

Preheat oven to broil.  Steam kale, if using, and set aside.  Meanwhile, bring vegetable broth to a boil.  Add oats; lower heat to medium and simmer until liquid is absorbed.  Begin adding milk, about 2 T at a time, until all liquid is absorbed.  Remove form heat; stir in kale and nutritional yeast.

Broil scallops 4-5 minutes.  Whisk together sauce ingredients, beginning with 1 T milk.  Stir in more milk to achieve desired consistency.

Serve scallops over risotto; drizzle with sauce.

I try to be pretty modest in life, but this was genius.

Seriously.

If you’re not an omnivore, I think it would work well with white beans or chickpeas instead.  But the sweetness of the scallops did pair wonderfully with the savory risotto and sauce.

This meal rocked.my.socks.off.  I’m 23 for 13 more hours, and I’ve decided, therefore, that I can still get away with that phrase.

Is the joy of cooking part of your heritage?  Do you enjoy preparing your own meals?

Related posts:

1. dinner 12.10: soup fail.
2. dinner 9.10: cook your best.
3. portobellos + cooking for two.