Sweep out old routine with winter vegetable salad

Now that my husband and I have been empty nesters for about a year and a half, I’m feeling a degree of restlessness in our routine.

Don’t get me wrong; I rely on our daily rhythms for a large measure of quotidian comfort. Yet I also crave variety and community, to use a word that’s decidedly overused these days but that to me means doing an activity with many people who are also there to do the thing that I’m doing.

It’s not that Simon and I never did anything cultural or creative while our daughter was growing up. We attended concerts and improv nights and dutifully saw “Hamilton” just like every other human in the Western hemisphere, but activities were geared towards things we thought she would like or find enriching, rather than things we’d like. Those family experiences are certainly treasured memories but now we need our own things to do as a couple.

I’ve been keeping my eye out for concerts, plays, classes or craft groups that both Simon and I might enjoy, or, to put a finer point on it, that he won’t object to. So far, Simon and I have gone to the symphony, painted pottery, made bad art and tried to see Magenta Theater’s “Jeeves at Sea”, but it was sold out. (Fortunately, it’s playing through this Sunday, so we’ll get another shot). As for me, I’ve been — either by myself or with friends — line dancing, painted even more pottery and learned how to make a turkey-tail whisk at a local broom-making workshop.

The broom-making workshop was, for lack of a more restrained word, a revelation. I’ve never cared about or noticed brooms before — I mean, how much thought have you given to broom lore, aside from tales of witchy hijinks? — but now I can’t stop thinking about them. The turkey-tail whisk was difficult but not impossible to make and is useful to boot. It’s beautiful, made with several different colors of broom-corn (aka sorghum) and woven together with colorful and durable string in an eye-catching stair-step pattern. I honestly can’t believe I made it myself in just two hours.

I came home and started researching brooms online (whisks, standing brooms, hearth brooms, hand brooms and yes, even witch and wizard brooms, for you Harry Potter fans) and I’ve discovered it’s a real art. When you become skilled enough at broom-making, you’re called a broom-squire. That’s so cheerfully quaint I want to squeal. I want to be a broom-squire, too! In fact, I’m joining a group called “Broom Club” where anyone can drop in and, well, make brooms.

The best part of the workshop wasn’t the broom, of course. It was simply being part of a group of women — some younger, some middle-aged like myself — who were welcoming, sociable and totally focused on crafting the most excellent whisks possible. Some were making brooms for the first time and others had made many. It reminded me of Craft-O-Rama, an adult craft group I attended at the Camas Library for a decade, until the pandemic shut it down and the organizer retired. I loved making the crafts but even more I loved being in a room full of really interesting and talented women. I get a regular dose of that at my book club, but I need more. I’m chuffed, as the Brits would say, to join the ancient tradition of women gathering together to make things like quilts, baskets, bread, yarn or a million other beautiful and necessary items.

Meanwhile, in my solitary kitchen, I’ve somehow made enough food to feed a quilting bee. We haven’t had pasta for quite a while but the brief burst of spring weather during February’s final days made me long for something lighter and more vegetal than mac-and-cheese or linguini Alfredo. I was inspired to make a winter pasta salad featuring seasonal vegetables (butternut squash, Brussels sprouts and kale), tossed with shell pasta, dried cranberries, crisp apples and a crumbling of goat cheese. A lemony, lightly creamy mustard-and-brown-sugar dressing brings it all together.

Before you turn away in disgust at the idea of Brussels sprouts and apples, don’t. They’re actually good together. Roasting brings out the sprouts’ sweetness and somehow makes their characteristic bitterness more palatable. I don’t need to say a thing about how good roasted butternut squash is. The kale is fresh and crunchy, and the dark green leaves make you feel like you’re being righteously healthy.

The tips to making this salad are to avoid disastrous accidents by using pre-cut butternut squash and to follow the steps in order. First, roast the squash and sprouts. Then cook the pasta (and don’t forget to season it with a little olive oil and salt after cooking). Then chop the apple and kale. Then make the dressing. Then toss it all together with dried cranberries and crumbled goat cheese or feta on top. You can mix the cheese right in if you want, but I make that suggestion because goat cheese is very creamy and can get smooshed and lost in the salad if mixed too vigorously. A final upside is that because kale is such a resilient green, this salad can be refrigerated overnight without too much wilting. And if you don’t want to make a potluck-sized bowl, reduce everything by half or forget the whole thing and go make a broom. At the very least, your kitchen will be clean.

Winter Pasta Salad

1 20-ounce container cubed butternut squash (about 3 cups)

3 cups quartered Brussels sprouts

3 cups dried pasta such as penne rigate, rotini, orecchiete, cavatappi or shells

1 diced apple

½ cup dried cranberries

3 cups chopped kale

Olive oil, salt and pepper for roasting vegetables

Dressing:

¼ cup olive oil

1/4 cup plain yogurt

Juice of one lemon

1 tablespoon mustard

1 tablespoon brown sugar

½ tsp. salt

½ teaspoon lemon pepper

4 ounces of goat cheese or feta cheese, crumbled, either mixed in or as a garnish

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put cubed butternut squash and quartered Brussels sprouts on two separate baking sheets; drizzle with olive oil and season to taste with salt and pepper. Roast for 40 minutes in center of oven (or put squash on middle level and Brussels sprout just below). Squash should be tender and Brussels sprouts should be just starting to crisp up. Set aside to cool. Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and add the pasta. Cook for 8 to 10 minutes or according to package directions. Pasta should be tender but not too soft; you want it to stand up to mixing. Drain the pasta, return to the pot and dress lightly with olive oil and salt to taste. Cover with lid to keep warm and set aside. While pasta is cooking, dice one apple (unpeeled is fine) and roughly chop 4 or 5 leaves of kale or enough to fill 3 cups. Make the dressing by whisking ingredients together in a small bowl. Put all salad ingredients, including cranberries, in a big bowl. Pour dressing over salad, toss to coat and serve with crumbles of goat cheese. Feeds six to eight people.