When I was young we used to order pizza on Friday nights while we watched TV. I used to order extra blue cheese sauce from the chicken wings, so that I could dip my pizza slices into the questionable liquid, basically using the pizza as a vehicle to get as much of it in me as possible, while I sat around and watched episodes of Step by Step and Boy Meets World. But somehow between the ages of 12 and 18, I managed to develop an absolute aversion to blue cheese. And not just the blue cheese dipping sauce that I used to be so fond of, but also to the many blue cheeses that receive so much gastronomic praise throughout the world, such as Gorgonzola, Stilton, and Roquefort. For a while, I could not even look at the little mold spores without remembering their taste, which for me was enough to grab a napkin and forgo the nicety of swallowing something you don’t like with a strained smile. “Roquefort is the King of Cheeses”, my dad once declared openly and without an ounce of doubt in his voice. Roquefort? I remember my absolute shock at the statement. What about the lovable Brie and Camembert? What about the sharp aged Pecorino? Why aren't those in the Royal Court of Cheese?

Well, I have decided to try and learn to love blue cheeses, one at a time. Since most of my now-favorite foods were once my least favorite (extremely dark chocolate and anchovies are prime examples), I have recently been trying as much blue cheese as possible. Now, I am not saying that I will actually buy it or order it for myself, but I am slowly trying it more. Recently I have had two noteworthy experiences in which I see myself coming around.

The other night I went to Firebox Restaurant in Hartford, CT with my boyfriend. He wanted to share a warm beet salad with golden raisins and local blue cheese. I thought that since it was on a salad, I would be able to pick my way through it. But when the plates came, we were greatly surprised. The blue cheese did not come crumbled on top of the lettuce as usual, but was a warm, smooth pool at the bottom of the plate, on which the other ingredients rested. I do not know what they did to get the cheese to an almost tahini- like texture, but it perfectly complemented the sweetness of the beets and raisins. Quite frankly, I loved it, and mopped my plate clean with bread.

On Sunday I went to the MoMA with my boyfriend, and stopped at Café 2 for some post-exhibit recuperation. We ordered a trio of bruschetta, of which our favorite was topped with Gorgonzola, walnuts, and honey. The soft Gorgonzola was slightly spread over the crusty bread, and drizzled delicately with honey, and topped with walnuts. I could not believe that I was eating several bites of the formerly despised cheese, but the combination was to die for.

Now, I know that I have a long way to go before I can agree with my dad on Roquefort, but for the meantime, I have realized that blue cheese can go perfectly with certain flavors, and that there is whole other world of flavors out their waiting for me! Look out for future recipes!

Normally I would not post a recipe here in this blog, but I felt that it would be helpful for those who are stumped for ideas in how to use Winter Squash. Now is a great time to be eating all of the varieties of hard- skinned squash, because they are around us in abundance. They are full of healthy carbohydrates, and have a natural sweetness to them, which is helpful for people who have intense cravings for sweet things.
Spaghetti Squash with Mozzarella Cheese and Ratatouille

Shopping list: 1 spaghetti squash, 1 yellow onion, 1 clove garlic, 1 red bell pepper, 2 Italian eggplants, 1 zucchini, 1 bay leaf, 1 sprig of thyme, 4 oz fresh mozzarella di Bufala.

Roast a spaghetti squash (the large yellowish, oblong, smooth skinned- ones) in a very hot oven (about 400*F) for 45 minutes. Be sure to poke a few holes through the skin, so that it does not explode.

Dice two small eggplants into medium sized chunks, sprinkle them with some salt, and then let them sit in a colander in the sink while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

Dice 1 yellow onion, 1 red bell pepper, 1 zucchini, and crush one piece of garlic.

Pour some oil into a large pot, and then add in the onion and the garlic. Toss in a bay leaf if you have one on hand. Let them cook through until translucent, but do not let them get brown. Next, pat the eggplant dry with some towels, and add them into the pot. Let them sweat in the oil as well. I sometimes cover the pot to let them steam a bit, which minimizes the amount of oil I will add in later. Add in the zucchini, sweat, and then the pepper. Let all of the vegetables stew together, and season with some salt and add in some herbs, such as thyme or oregano. The ratatouille is done when all of the vegetables are soft, and sort of stewed together, yet still holding their form.

Take the squash out of the oven. Cut it in half and scoop out the seeds. Using a fork, scrape out the "spaghetti" flesh of the squash. Get out four pasta bowls, and slice the mozzarella into thin pieces. Place the pieces on the bottom of the bowls, and top with the hot spaghetti squash. Next, spoon some of the ratatouille onto the squash. The mozzarella will melt with the heat of the squash, and the ratatouille will compliment all of the flavors. This is a perfect dinner for the still warm October we are experiencing.

Keep an eye out for our fall beverage page! There will be three featured drink recipes from Kitchen Caravan in Seasons magazine, for those of you who live in the Farmington Valley of Connecticut. This morning was the photoshoot, and so I prepared a Rum and Cinnamon Pear cocktail, an espresso with brandy, and an Ancho Chile Hot Chocolate. One of my favorite things about the fall is how cozy everything is. The weekends ahead are going to be great for taking long walks around New England to enjoy the leaves, and then coming home to beverages made with fresh fruits and warming spices typical of Autumn.

This morning I had my first Bartlett of the season. It was not my first pear, just my first Bartlett. For some reason, I have only bought Bosc pears for my recipes. Later this Fall, there is a Tuscan recipe for pears baked with pecorino and honey. It never occurred to me that I should use anything other than the Bosc. However, this morning's circumstances left me with only a Bartlett for my breakfast. What a delightful surprise to find a slightly more acidic juice and a thicker flesh than the pears I have become used to. From now on I will be more open to different pear varieties, and try to apply this lesson to all of the other wonderful fruits of the season.

My aunt is visiting us for a few days from Colombia. She is Venezuelan, but has been living in Bogotá for the greater part of a year now. When we were younger she would bring us jewelry, but now she brings us books of poetry or literature written in Spanish. This time she brought Tratado de Culinaria Para Mujeres Tristes by Héctor Abad Faciolince, a Colombian author that both she and my mother admire. The title in English is basically “Culinary Dealings for Sad Women”, and is broken up into small chapters, which are usually a page long, in which he describes a universal problem, and then provides recipes and dietary recommendations to cure the ill. His recipes are basic, imaginary, and have a sense of humor. One of my favorite chapters is about how to deal with pregnant women and their cravings. His first recommendation is to boil water, then freeze it, and give them the ice to chew. He suggests that if she doesn’t like it, at least she will not ask for anything for a while. The second recommendation is that she walk through the house naked, with one hand on her chest, the other on her stomach, while singing a childhood song. He then says that this recommendation might not cure a pregnant woman’s cravings, but that it is always a good idea for anyone to walk around the house naked, even if without one hand on the stomach, and the other on the chest, then sit in the “belly button” of the house, and spend ten minutes sitting on the floor doing absolutely nothing. I am halfway through this book, but I am loving the recipes he provides for curing our moral ailments. His writing really gets to the point of soul food. It is not always a recipe involving a lot of ingredients and complicated cooking technique that feeds our souls, just a little bit of imagination.