Here's what I'm cooking today. It's a pumpkin — un potiron — from our 2016 vegetable garden. Well, we are both cooking it, because I'll make soup and Walt says he want to make a pumpkin pie.
For decades I've kept hold of a memory of being somewhere out in the country in France, back in the days when I lived in Paris (1970s-'80s), and going to a restaurant in a village where a soupe au potiron, au lait, et aux oignons was served. It is a vivid memory, but I of course have no recipe. I'm going to try to recreate the soup from memory today. I poached a chicken yesterday, and I'll put broth and shredded chicken into the soup too. Photos later, maybe.
Meanwhile, we are having winter-type weather. That means a lot of fog and what is called grisaille in French. When the sun burns off the grayness late in the day, the colors are magnificent. It's not raining, and that's surprising because most years the chilly rains begin in late October and last into November or even December. Oh, and the two men who are glazing the greenhouse didn't manage to finish the job yesterday. We're disappointed, but they say they can come back on Tuesday and try to finish it then.