Buzzzzz.
“Whoooooo is it?” answers a languorous voice.
“Sir, Brite Skies Incorporated at your service! We’re here to take measurements for the mammoth fake sun you ordered.”
“Ex-squeeze-me?”
“Sir, as it says on our website, it’s guaranteed to brighten your day.”
“Whoa, dude—I didn’t mean to click on that link.”
“Grey skies are gonna clear up, put on a happy face…” sings the salesman.
“Oh, wow—so sorry you came all this way, dude. But we got this stellar delivery of tropical guava in our FruitGuys TakeHome case, and we’re pretty happy kicking it on the patio.”
“You do sound cheery…”
“Vitamin C, dude. Vitamin C hip-checks cortisol, the stress hormone. Plus tropical fruits taste so good, it reminds me of party-time on an exotic beach.”
“Sounds fun, sir.”
“Hey, wanna come up?”
“Yes, sir!”
“OK, but don’t call me ‘sir,’ dude.”

Tropical fruits like guava seem to be optimally created to maximize the riches of the sun. Their glossy green leaves absorb the sun’s warmth and keep the plant warm on cool nights. Their blooms look like extraterrestrial insects or a pop diva’s headdress. They hardly need their mild perfume to get pollinators to call. Humans and animals alike adore guava’s tasty fruit. The typical guava variety is the Apple, or Common guava, which needs a tropical climate to thrive. Other guavas, like Feijoa (Pineapple) or Strawberry guavas, can grow in more temperate areas.

The skin of the guava is high in its principle nutrients of vitamins C and A, flavonoids, beta-carotene, lycopene, and lutein. The skin is edible, but may be too strong tasting for some. Of course guava can be juiced or blended. To capture its heavenly “take me away” aroma, guava is well-suited for cooking into jam or curd.

Preparation: Ripe guava should be somewhat firm but give gently under pressure. Wash right before use. May be eaten like an apple or peeled and sliced, but is favored by many in juice form or added to smoothies.

Storage: Ripen guava at room temperature. Use as soon as the flesh gives slightly, or store in the fridge for up to a week.

Here’s a great idea for a new product—radish-flavored chewing gum! Some reasons why radish-flavored gum would be great:

• Radishes have great refreshing taste.
• They have a palate-cleansing effect, leaving you with a sparkly smile.
• Radishes and their juice are a digestive aid.
• Radishes have a variety of shapes and sizes and come in attractive packaging—with outsides of lipstick red, purple, pink, white, and even black, to insides of white and tie-dye pink.
• They stay fresh longer! (OK, they keep fresh in your fridge for a long time.)
• Because “radish” comes from the Greek raphanos, meaning “quickly appearing,” the radish logo could be the highly marketable bunny rabbit.
• And of course, radish gum would be all natural.

OK, so maybe the world isn’t quite ready for radish-flavored chewing gum. But when it does hit the market, you heard it here first.

Radishes range from spicy to mild to earthy. The classic, spicy little red sphere with bright white flesh is often called Cherry Belle, Champion, or Sparkler, a two-toned variety. French Breakfast is an elongated pink radish with a white tip and, true to its name, is found in most French markets. Easter Egg radishes are a mix of bright to pastel hues of pink, red, purple, violet, and white. And a big surprise awaits you inside the Watermelon radish. White radishes tend toward the mild spectrum, such as the elongated Japanese Daikon (also called Chinese White radish), but they can be tangy like the Snow Belle or spicy like the White Icicle. There are even black varieties, which keep exceptionally well and are best suited for cooking.

Radishes are most common as salad fare or cut into fanciful roses, but they are quite delicious sautéed, particularly in butter with tarragon. For some, a radish sandwich may recall a youthful European wanderlust or a taste of home. A simple assemblage of good bread, sweet butter, and thinly sliced radishes with an accompaniment of microgreens or sprouts will satisfy hunger in the here and now. Light, refreshing and great for digestion—perhaps in addition to gum, radishes can be marketed as the new after-dinner mint.

Preparation: Wash before using, trim the little root and leaves. The leafy greens can be used raw or sautéed.

Storage: Radishes keep for about two weeks in the crisper drawer of the fridge.

By Heidi Lewis

The bounty of winter squash includes a fabulous array of colors, textures, and shapes. Just like the American population, they have an international palette of names, such as delicata, turban, Hubbard, Hokkaido, carnival, and butternut. Named for outstanding characteristics or in homage—for example, the turban squash mimics the shape of the familiar headdress, and the Hubbard is thought to be named after Elizabeth Hubbard, who purportedly distributed the seeds in the mid-19th century—there are 350 known varieties of squash, falling into two general camps of summer and winter.

The term “winter” squash is a cultural definition for hard-skinned squash that keep for months, as opposed to thin-skinned “summer” squash, such as zucchini or crookneck, that have to be eaten fresh. Winter squash is an important category of produce that dates back to a time when our survival depended on what could be stored. Representing several species within gourd family genus Cucurbita, winter squash offer up a visually stunning cast of characters, from smooth-skinned orbs to some reminiscent of colorful Dale Chihuly sculptures.

One of the world’s oldest cultivated foods, evidence of squash consumption has been found in 10,000-year-old caves and dwellings of ancient Mesoamerica. From there it spread to the rest of the world where each culture refined its own unique squash expressions. The bumpy, alligator-skinned Marina De Chioggia squash hails from Italy, the Cinderella coach–looking Musquée de Provence comes from France, and the chestnut-flavored Red Kuri and Kabocha are from Japan. The hard shells of winter squash and gourds have been used as scoops, bowls, and even musical instruments.

Preparation: The skin of most winter squash is hard to peel: use a sharp knife to carefully cut it in halves or quarters, scoop out the seeds (which can also be washed and roasted), and roast, steam, or sauté until soft. Squash can be used in soups, salads, sautés, fritters, purees, and, of course, in pies.

Storage: Keep squash where it can be admired for its beauty. Store at room temperature out of direct sunlight, and don’t let it get moist. Use within 2–3 weeks.

By Heidi Lewis

An old children’s classic, The Story of the Root-Children, tells of how, in spring, Mother Earth awakens the sleepy little root babies that live underground and sets them to sew new clothes and clean and paint the beetles and bugs. They emerge from their underground home dressed in new rainbow capes and pointed caps and run off to play in the ponds and meadows.

Wintertime carrots can offer a glimpse of a springtime rainbow. Since most of us grew up with orange carrots, it may surprise you to learn that the first carrots cultivated (likely in Afghanistan) thousands of years ago were thought to be purple or yellow. Throughout the ages there have been white and red carrots as well. It was the Dutch who, in patriotic allegiance to the House of Orange (the Dutch Royal family), propagated the bright orange variety that is commonplace today.

Rainbow carrots offer a wide spectrum of micronutrients: orange is the signal flag for beta-carotene; red carrots wave the carotenoid lutein banner; and purple carrots signal the presence of the antioxidant anthocyanin. So it’s not just the wonderful dose of vitamin A (more than 400% of the recommended daily value per cup) you’re getting.

If these jewel-toned carrots look too pretty to cook, consider that they’re sweet enough for a kaleidoscope of crudités. Or coating them lightly in olive oil and roasting them with salt, pepper, and a dash of cumin is a fine way to cook them but retain their color. When boiled, the rainbow colors will fade. These colorful carrots will certainly inspire adults and kids alike (root children or not) to eat their colors.

Preparation: Wash thoroughly and gently scrub—keep the peel for maximum nutrient benefits. Delicious raw on their own; sliced or grated and added to salads and slaws; or roasted, steamed, stir-fried, grilled, boiled, baked, or braised. And don’t forget about carrot juice and carrot cake.

Storage: Tightly seal unwashed carrots in a plastic bag and refrigerate for up to a few weeks. They can also be blanched and frozen.

By Heidi Lewis

I can’t move. The last thing I remember was sipping tea and munching on a health-nut bar. Now I appear to be lying on the floor, immobile. I can just turn my head and—what? I’m covered in a web of threads staked into the ground.

“You’re under arrest!” cries a tiny voice.

What? Who’s talking to me? OMG, there’s a miniature person on my chest brandishing a tiny pitchfork! What was in that health-nut bar?

“I beg your pardon?” I say. My voice sounds strangely loud.

“There will be no pardons for destroyers of the new growth forests!” peeps my little captor. She looks like an architectural scale model figurine of a Bolshevik in red kerchief and apron; she raises her pitchfork, and a swarm of tiny people advance up my chest. Some are holding signs reading “No Clear Cutting,” some are holding tiny leaves the scale of umbrellas to their tiny size.
“Are those sprouts?” My mind is reeling, trying to sort it all out.

“No!” comes a collective cry, “Microgreens are not sprouts!” My red-kerchiefed captor puts a foot up on my sweater button as if it were a stump and lectures, “Sprouts are seeds that are usually germinated in water out of direct light. Microgreens are grown in soil and light until they reach the cotyledon stage. They grow quicker than you can say Johnny Swift, but then they’re cut down by your lot!”

“Listen,” I say, “microgreens in The FruitGuys’ TakeHome cases are sustainably harvested and usually grown in greenhouses. None of your ‘forests’ have been harmed in the process.” As I instinctively make air quotes with my fingers, I break some of the threads and accidentally knock a few mini demonstrators down.
“Why do you giants like to eat our forests?” asks Little Red.
“Microgreens are zesty and have great texture,” I reply. “They bring a vibrancy to salads and sandwiches and are a lovely garnish. They can be grown from seeds like amaranth, arugula, basil, beets, cabbage, celery, chard, chervil, cilantro, cress, fennel, kale, mustard, parsley, radish, sorrel, tatsoi, and more. Any combination can give microgreens a sparkling flavor of pepper, nutmeg, lavender, or dill.”

“Hmm,” says Little Red, scratching her chin. “Wanna give us a lift to the old-growth broccoli forest demonstration then?” A true activist never gives up.

Storage: Use these delicate greens as soon as possible. Keep unused greens refrigerated in an airtight container for up to a week.

Shiitake, Maitake, and Reishi are the venerable mushroom triumvirate in alternative medicine. They are the most famous shaman healers of the mushroom kingdom. For classification purposes, living organisms are divided into five Kingdoms: Animal, Plant, Protista, Monera—and Fungi. These three mushrooms have undergone much scientific scrutiny and due diligence about their health benefits. They are full of vitamins, minerals, and protein, but their greatest contribution is betaglucans, which stimulate the immune system.

What makes shiitakes so popular is that they’re “food mushrooms.” They’re actually tasty, so there’s no need for Mary Poppins-style tactics. In this country, shiitakes are known more for their culinary role. Hearty and flavorful, they impart their robust taste to anything you prepare them with. Fresh shiitakes are considered a rare treat (they more commonly come dried), and some cooks may not be accustomed to cooking with them. While best if cooked, fresh shiitakes are safe to eat raw.

Shiitake mushrooms are native to East Asia, where they grow on fallen evergreen trees known as shii. In the wild, shiitake spores drift thru the autumn forest until they find their host tree and settle on it in a silver dust.

They grow into the cambian layer of the dead limb, colonizing and building a network. When spring storms shake the limb to the ground, the mushrooms “awaken” and bloom in the warm rains. The Japanese and Chinese have captured this process—their cultivation of shiitakes goes back more than a thousand years. Here in the U.S., they do not grow wild but are cultivated in controlled atmospheres, as they are at Mother Earth Organic Mushrooms in West Grove, PA. A division of family-owned and operated C.P. Yeatman & Sons, this farm has been growing mushrooms for more than 90 years. A small testament to mushrooms’ effect on longevity, perhaps.

Preparation: Shiitakes are clean and ready to cook. Any debris may be brushed off with a damp paper towel. Mushrooms should not be soaked, as they absorb water. Cook minimally—1 to 3 minutes—with anything you’d use regular white mushrooms for.

Storage: Keep loose in a paper bag in the fridge. They’ll last up to 5 days, but use sooner for best flavor.

By Heidi Lewis

Have you noticed how the mighty oaks rain down their crops of shiny acorns on us in fits of boom or bust? Some years they pelt us with their bounty, making it feel like we’re walking on marbles and that hard hats are a requirement—and other years, nothing.

The rhyme or reason to these patterns is one of nature’s mysteries. Weather lore may predict a hard winter during a “mast year” or bumper crop, but there is no proof of that. “Trees have no ability to predict the future. It’s not what’s going to happen, it’s what did happen,” said oak expert Bethallyn Black of University of California, Davis. It could be an early frost or dry spring the previous year that influences the oak’s acorn capacity.

A blanket of acorns on the forest floor is extremely important to its ecological balance; species such as mice and deer depend on them. Biologists call the oak’s mast years a “predator satiation” strategy: Bumper crops satisfy the nut eaters, so some acorns escape to sprout seedlings.

Squirrels are always bearish in an acorn economy, so watching them frantically put away their earnings isn’t a good indicator of winter. However, the appearance of the beautiful acorn squash is. The iconic acorn shape gives it its name, but it is also known as Des Moines squash. Acorn squash are easy to prepare and are perfectly suited for stuffing. Classic and wholly satisfying with a pat of butter and sprinkle of brown sugar, baked acorn squash can also be a vessel for the “good stuff.” Why not break out those tucked away chanterelles, a drip of precious truffle oil, and the saffron, faro, or sun-dried tomatoes you’ve been stowing? As the oak tree says, “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.”

Preparation: Cut acorn squash in half, along the equator. Trim stem and tip so squash sits flat. Scoop out seeds. Add butter and maple syrup or brown sugar to the cavity. Bake 400°F for about 1 hour or until fork-tender.

Storage: Store in a cool, dry place for up to 2 months.

By Heidi Lewis

Many great innovations have come from the redwoods of Humboldt County, CA—kinetic sculpture racing is but one. The first race materialized in 1969 when local sculptor Hobart Brown challenged fellow artist Jack Mays to a race down Ferndale’s Mainstreet against his “Pentacycle.” Years of creativity, engineering, and good times have ensued, and the race is now a three-day, 42-mile trek over land, sand, mud, and water—all human-powered. Kinetic fever has spread worldwide, but Humboldt’s race is known as the “Triathlon of the Art World” and is the only one to boast sovereignty by a Rutabaga Queen.

The qualifications to become a Rutabaga Queen are wonderfully ambiguous and open to creative interpretation. “A Rutabaga Queen is an indefinable force of nature. Each Rutabaga Queen forges her/his/its own path to the crown.” Mainly the Queen is the cheerleader for the race, “rooting” the participants on.

The FruitGuys doesn’t pick favorites, so this week’s queen was elected by an independent panel of judges, which issued the following statement: “Miss Rutabaga has been crowned Outstanding Veggie of the Week. Miss Rutabaga’s botanical parents are cabbage and turnip, the particular brassica-crossing originating in Sweden. She’s known by the moniker ‘Swede’ in the British Isles and Europe where she is often the cornerstone of winter meals. Miss Rutabaga studies genome theory at Triangle of U, with a minor in theatre. For the talent segment of the competition, Miss Rutabaga did an upbeat rendition of Tom Waits’ ‘Way Down in the Hole’ on her accordion. Miss Rutabaga’s platform issue is ‘World Peas and a Warm Soup in Every Pot.’ Miss Rutabaga wins a cash prize and use of a veggie diesel car for one year, and she’ll serve as spokes-veggie for the Department of Agriculture.” Congratulations, Miss Rutabaga!

To Prepare: Peel and chop, steam or boil, and mash with butter and nutmeg. Great in partnership with potatoes; can be roasted, fried, or microwaved.

To Store: Rutabagas are keepers—they’ll last up to a month in cool and moist conditions. If storing in the fridge, don’t let them get too moist.

I am soooo psyched to be going home for the holidays. We’re about to land, so the flight attendant has asked us to fasten our seatbelts and put our tray tables up. The pilot is flying low so we can get a good look at Souplandia. Practically every home in Souplandia has a pool of soup in its backyard. Looking out the window, I can see the checkerboard suburban landscape with neighborhoods of different soups.

There’s the Minestrone neighborhood, where each family has its own recipe—the Pellegrinis like beans in theirs, and the Genovese family adds pesto. There’s the Golden Dragon district, with baby pools of egg-drop and wonton. The French consulate has a rooftop pool of vichyssoise; the African embassy, a hot tub full of peanut soup. Then there’s the community pool of healthy broth. And of course, I’m from Bean Town, where all the pools are kidney-shaped and loaded with protein.

I loved my first year at college, but I have been homesick, so it’s comforting to come back to Souplandia. Here, the streets and businesses are totally empty at dinnertime, as everyone goes home to eat together. The people here are so mellow and nice—probably from eating all that soup. And fit! Mom calls it “svelte.” Gotta close now, I can see the city’s gateway arch with the motto, “Welcome to Souplandia—Where Soup is a Meal in Itself.” It’s good to be home.

P.S. Here’s a little tip from Bean Town on how to prepare dried beans:

• Sort beans and discard discolored or shriveled beans or any foreign matter, and rinse.
• Bring 1lb of beans and 10 cups of water to a boil for 3 minutes, cover, and set aside overnight.
• To cook: drain, rinse, and return beans to pot, adding three cups of water for each cup of soaked beans.
• Add herbs and spices at this point, but not salt or acidic ingredients such as tomatoes, which slow cooking (these may be added at the end of cooking).
• Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer uncovered until tender, 45 to 90 minutes, checking periodically.
  When done, drain and use in soups, salads, and other recipes.

P.P.S. Store uncooked dry beans in a glass jar or plastic bag in the cupboard, not the fridge.

It sure is dark here in winter. But consider how dark it is in the rest of the universe. The universe is estimated to be 95% dark energy and dark matter; only 5% is ordinary matter, things like: us, planets, suns, asteroids, space stations, and galactic gas. NASA posits dark energy as being a “property of space.” Not much is known about it, other than how it impacts the universe’s expansion. A 2011 survey of around 200,000 galaxies confirmed the existence of dark matter, which is even less understood. According to NASA: “We are much more certain what dark matter is not than we are what it is.” In light of that, it feels reassuring to be in our cozy little solar system with our trusty sun, Sol.

By our Gregorian calendars, winter has just begun—but the winter solstice, which occurred Dec. 21, marks the return of light. Naked-eye observation of the exact time of solstice is difficult, which is why ancient constructions like Stonehenge and Newgrange are amazing, with their sight-line alignments to astronomical events. Perhaps you mark the arc of winter’s sun by where it falls in your morning routine, or maybe you get a planetary perspective from one of the space-based telescopes.

For the farmers who grow our food, nothing is more fundamental than sunlight’s arc and duration. Whether a traditional family farmer, a university-trained farmer, or a biodynamic farmer who has intellectualized the rhythms of the earth and cosmos, they all watch the arc of the sun. In the farming season’s rhythm of activity, autumn is the breath in (harvest), winter solstice is the pause, and spring is the out-breath (new growth). This moment of pause is well exemplified in the East Asian solstice festival Dong Zhi, celebrating the line between yin and yang, light and dark.

When you peer into a TakeHome case, take stock of the season’s offerings. There may be fruit in protective skin, such as citrus, kiwi, or pomegranate; root veggies or tubers that have been slumbering in the earth; or dark leafy greens that get their chutzpah from a nip of frost. In due course, these will give way to delicate-skinned fruits, new potatoes, baby peas ’n carrots, and greens the color of spring grass.

Happy solstice, enjoy your “pause,” and here’s to the return of the light.