Rutabagas are delicious. Especially this Rutabaga Purée with Brown Butter & Mascarpone. Let's just get that out of the way right now. Because no matter what I say about rutabagas from here on out, they're delicious. I love (and respect) them.

But you have to admit, rutabagas have a funny sounding, cartoonish name. The kind of name Elmer Fudd, Foghorn Leghorn or some other rascally Loony Tunes character might root-a-toot-toot about. So, you see, it's easy to make fun of them. Besides, rutabagas are silly looking too. Really silly looking. I'm sorry but it's true.

Let me tell you a funny story. I was in the market recently, checking out with just a few items. I hadn't bothered to get a basket and was sorta balancing a few awkward items in my hands. Oh, and I had a great big rutabaga tucked under my arm too. When it came time to pay, the cashier pointed under my arm and asked, “What’s that?” 

“A football”, I said. Well she laughed so hard she almost cried. At first I thought to myself, rather smugishly. "Gosh I'm funny". Then I realized it wasn't me that was so funny, she wasn't laughing at me. It was the rutabaga that had tickled her funny bone so completely.

Take a look, it's true– rutabagas are big ole monstrosities. The dirigibles of the veg world. The sheer audacity of their size, only adds to their irony. Because rutabagas aren't just delicious and hilarious. Nope. Rutabagas are really, really cheap. Meaning not only do they get laughed at, these root-vegetable monsters are often relegated to filler, whose only purpose is to bulk up a casserole, or stretch out some watery soup. But I bet if you'd just stop laughing long enough to taste a rutabaga you'd root-a-toot-toot too! GREG

Would you like something rich and creamy? How about Roasted Acorn Squash & Turnip Soup? Sounds good, huh?

I like creamy soups. In fact I love creamy soups. Except sometimes I seem to like them even better when there's no cream in them. Does that make any sense?

Sure sometimes a touch of cream will elevate a recipe. That's because fat binds flavors together. It creates a sum that is greater than its parts. So I have no problem with cream. But there are other fats that do the job just as well as cream. Like butter. I have no problem with butter. In fact wasn't it Julia Child who mockingly said: "If you are afraid of cream, just use butter."? Or was it the other way around? Oh well. No matter. My point is– I am not one of those people who is afraid of fat, in any form. So if fat is called for in a recipe, and I believe it will make it better, I scream bring it on. No fear here.

In fact I am far more afraid of chemically altered processed foods that are deemed "fat free" than I am of any of the fats that God gave us. Because whenever I see "fat free" printed in big bold chemical ink on my food I have to wonder what they replaced the fat with, and how the hell they got it out. Oh, and particularly– where in God's name did they put it? But that's a digression.

I wanted to talk about "health food" my way. It's not a new concept but it has certainly fallen out of fashion.

Happy Hanukkah! Now, I'm not Jewish. But I feel happy to send you this greeting no matter your religious associations. Because around my house we like to say I am Jewish adjacent, that's because my partner is Sephardic. The differences between Sephardic Jews and Ashkenazi Jews are partly cultural and partly religious. These two branches of Judaism separated at one time by geography still retain many of their distinct culinary traditions.

One of these Ashkenazi culinary holiday traditions is the latke– joyously served as part of a Hanukkah celebration.

The Gentiles among us may ask "What makes a potato pancake, or more simply a potato fritter, a latke? "Well my reading tells me that a latke is much more than a pancake made from fried potatoes. In fact the potato latke is symbolic. It's a potato pancake on the outside but it represents the "humble man's" neshamah or what we in English might describe as a soul.

Geez (pardon the expression) that's a whole lotta holiday pressure to put onto one little pancake? But it does explain how the latke came to represent an integral part of this holiday for most Ashkenazi Jews.

But potato latkes aren't as traditional an element in the Sephardic Hanukkah tradition. In fact weren't even originally a part of Ashkenazi Hanukkah cuisine either.