The October 2009 Daring Cooks’ challenge was brought to us by Jaden of the blog Steamy Kitchen. The recipes are from her new cookbook, The Steamy Kitchen Cookbook.

Whee! What a great excuse to make chicken stock! The details of that are in another post, but what I wound up with were 3 quarts of dark amber roasted chicken goodness. Good stock is essential as pho is very simple though endlessly variable.

I haven't had much from Southeast Asia and I've never had pho from a Vietnamese cafe, only from American cafes. We do have a "Little Saigon", so to speak, in Salt Lake, but honestly, I haven't had much occasion to trek down there and try the establishments. But, I did stop at a little market there a while back and picked up some rice stick noodles for some future dish -- looks like it was my lucky day to mix 'em up!

My homemade chicken stock, like all of my stocks, was very lightly salted, almost to the point of being unsalted. I do this because if I want to reduce one of my stocks for a sauce, I don't want it to be oversalted at the end. It also gives me more room to play with how I want that salt to be added. In this case, I opted for soy sauce to bring the needed salt and add a bit more flavor.

I'll be honest, though. I didn't have high hopes for this recipe at first. You see, it combines two flavors my husband absolutely hates: ginger and anise. He was a good sport about it and willing to try it. I promised him a pizza if he hated it (he demurred and said he'd cook something up for himself if he couldn't eat it). But when I tasted the broth, it didn't taste overwhelmingly gingery. It tasted really good -- which my husband confirmed!

When all was said and done and served, the verdict was as follows: Without reservation, this is fantastic and absolutely worth making. I will make this again. My husband wants me to make the broth again soon so that he can have it to drink with buljona pīrādziņi! He loved it! I loved it too -- it's a very clean, rich and intensely flavorful broth. (I will, however, take partial credit for this, as the broth was based off of a homemade chicken stock.)

We weren't given much license to play around with this, though I still managed a few little tweaks. :) I admit I didn't use anywhere near the quantity of noodles she called for because there's just only so many noodles I can handle.

The other half of the challenge, where we had full rein to play will be posted shortly.

The days are getting longer and colder as our short autumn winds to the midway mark. Where in summer we focused mostly on fresh, summery salads, now it's time for soups. We chose this one at random from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian for our Random Recipe meal plan day and it worked out pretty darn well, if I do say so myself.

If I could have afforded it, I would have used Muir Glen's Fire Roasted Tomatoes; they're my favorite canned tomatoes with no tinny taste and great flavor. But really, any type of canned tomatoes work here. Fresh too, just peel and roast, but tomato season is just about over here and nothing good was available at the store. I have a feeling there'll be a lot more canned tomatoes from here on out until next summer. (And next summer, I am definitely planting a tomato plant or two!)

It's really, really thick but if it's too thick for you, just add additional vegetable stock or water to thin it down to the consistency you prefer. Thick slices of crusty bread for dunking are an excellent addition as well.

Every week I make one recipe from Latviešu ēdieni.

I handed the well-worn copy of Latviešu ēdieni to my husband.

"Here, you pick something out this time," I said. I'd just flipped through it and couldn't decide on anything, so I foisted it off like any good wife onto my husband.

"Hmmm, this sounds good. Let's have pildīta karbonāde!"

I looked at him, baffled. I knew karbonāde, of course, the ubiquitous Latvian dish that might as well be the Latvian national dish. Latvians seem to eat karbonāde the way Americans eat burgers. Don't get me wrong, however, karbonāde is delicious and one of the things I love about the cuisine.

Most commonly made from pork, karbonāde describes both a cut ("pork chop") and a dish. A basic karbonāde goes as follows: Pound a flat piece of pork, not too lean, not too fatty, until it's about the size of a salad plate*. Thin. Really thin. Season it with some salt and pepper. Now dredge it in flour, then a beaten egg. Fry that puppy up over medium-high heat until everything's golden brown and delicious and you have karbonāde.

But pildīta? That was a word I didn't know. It turns out it means "filled" or "stuffed". I'm also convinced that it means "tasty"**. I've written this for chicken or pork, but I suppose you could use just about anything you could get flat enough. It'll be tasty either way.

• Okay, I'm exaggerating a little. Half a salad plate. Unless you're at Doka Pica in Liepāja where it's the size of a salad plate. Damn good too -- it's what they're known for. (Pizza there is also good, but if you're only there once, get the karbonāde.)

** It doesn't. That's garšīga, when referring to karbonāde.

Every week, I make one recipe from Latviešu ēdieni.

As you might have guessed by now, I'm not very good at following recipes. I often take a few recipes that have components that sound good and create something new from the bits I like. This was one of those days.

(I had class last night, so my husband prepared this one. Though I arrived home earlier than we expected, it was dark, late and we were hungry -- no pictures of this one for now. Plus, I'll tell you what it looks like: dark red beets and pink everything else.)

We had some leftover roasted beets from the farmer's market, a ton of apples from our apple tree and freshly prepared horseradish, so I decided to mix up two of the recipes in Latviešu ēdieni so we could take advantage of our supply. Besides, never allow a recipe to preach at you -- pay attention to what you need to use, what looks good and what's fresh. Substitutions are better than wasting food or using unripe or bad.

This recipe is excellent on its own, but I think it still needs some tweaking. In particular, it needs some hard-boiled egg, which we didn't have time to cook by the time we realized it, so I've added that into the recipe.

We had it with Veggie Burgers on fresh ciabatta buns with some sliced tomato from the garden, avocado slices and Honey-Mustard Sauce. Mmmm-mmm good.

Every week, I make one recipe from Latviešu ēdieni.

As you might have guessed by now, I'm not very good at following recipes. I often take a few recipes that have components that sound good and create something new from the bits I like. This was one of those days.

(I had class last night, so my husband prepared this one. Though I arrived home earlier than we expected, it was dark, late and we were hungry -- no pictures of this one for now. Plus, I'll tell you what it looks like: dark red beets and pink everything else.)

We had some leftover roasted beets from the farmer's market, a ton of apples from our apple tree and freshly prepared horseradish, so I decided to mix up two of the recipes in Latviešu ēdieni so we could take advantage of our supply. Besides, never allow a recipe to preach at you -- pay attention to what you need to use, what looks good and what's fresh. Substitutions are better than wasting food or using unripe or bad.

This recipe is excellent on its own, but I think it still needs some tweaking. In particular, it needs some hard-boiled egg, which we didn't have time to cook by the time we realized it, so I've added that into the recipe.

We had it with Veggie Burgers on fresh ciabatta buns with some sliced tomato from the garden, avocado slices and Honey-Mustard Sauce. Mmmm-mmm good.

Roasted Beet, Apple and Walnut Salad Adapted from recipes in Latviešu ēdieni

about 8 ounces roasted beets 1 Granny Smith or other tart apple, cored, peeled and quartered 1/4 cup walnuts, toasted and roughly chopped 1 hard-boiled egg 2 ounces (or to taste) sour cream prepared horseradish, to taste salt

Julienne the beets and dice the apple. I used an egg slicer twice on hard-boiled egg to get a similar julienned size, but roughly chopping works too. Toss beets, apples, egg and walnuts together in a medium bowl, sprinkling with a bit of salt. Mix in sour cream until it is nice and creamy, adding horseradish to your taste.

Notes: 1. My horseradish that I prepared is very strong, so I don't need as much as I would have if I used Beaver's prepared horseradish, for example.

Let me begin with this: Preparing horseradish is acutely painful.

However, it's worth it. Commercial prepared horseradish, at least in my area, contains high fructose corn syrup as well as artificial preservatives, neither of which I particularly care for in my diet. It can also be fairly expensive, weighing in around $12 or more per pound.

One store in my town carries fresh horseradish roots so we decided we'd try to make it ourselves. It's not very difficult, just, as I've said, painful.

You see, when a horseradish root is whole, it has basically no aroma to it at all. Mine smelled mostly like dirt, being covered quite well with it. Once you damage the cells by peeling or cutting, the fun begins. The enzymes in the cells break down and form mustard oil, which is highly irritative to the eyes and sinuses. If the process is allowed to go on too long before adding vinegar to halt the enzymatic production, horseradish will darken and become bitter.

One way you can manage the heat and spiciness of horseradish is by controlling when the vinegar is added. The longer you wait, the spicier it gets (as long as you don't add it after it begins to darken). Some people pour in the vinegar with the cut pieces of root before grinding it into meal, others wait a bit longer.

Homemade prepared horseradish is subtler than commercial, at least in my experience. It should be used sparingly as it packs a bigger punch. As for how to use it, well, I've used it on bratwursts, steaks, fish, as well as in salads, such as beet-apple-walnut salad. Plus I will be making some compound butter and creamy sauces from it later this season. A little goes a long way!

If there's one thing I would do over, it would be making it more of a paste. Mine came out more minced than paste, probably because I was having problems seeing due to the oils. (Remember the acutely painful? It's like cutting onions only about 50 times worse.)

I love fall.

In the fall, the air is crisp, the leaves burn with red and orange as they change, and pumpkins return to grace stoops and porches with grinning intensity.

I love pumpkins. A mini pumpkin sits cheerfully on my desk lamp as I type this, a yearly tradition I've indulged in for many an October. Ever since I can remember, my family has carved jack o'lanterns. And every year, my mom would take the seeds we scooped out of the huge gourds and roast them with some salt for snacking later on. They'd sit in a pale yellow tub, a relic of a margarine gone by, waiting for my eager little hand to scoop out a handful to accompany my latest book.

The first pumpkins of the season have come out and though it's still too early to carve a jack o'lantern (unless, of course, I don't mind the neighborhood punks playing soccer with it long before Halloween rolls around), nothing says I can't roast some pie pumpkins for my own nefarious ideas.

Most of the winter squash have large, meaty white seeds that can be used in this simple recipe. You get the best yield out of pumpkins, as far as I'm concerned, but I think I've established my bias already. I've made roasted seeds from acorn squash, the large melon-tasting pumpkin my mother-in-law grows, and a few others besides pumpkins.

The hardest part is separating all those tasty little morsels from the strings and goop that is scooped out with them. I usually try to get the big stuff off then put the seeds and any remaining flesh into a colander. After a bit of swishing around under cold running water, most of the goop is washed away and the big chunks are easy to discard. A good healthy shake to get the excess water off and they're ready for roasting.

I have no idea how long they will last. Mine never make it more than a few days before being eaten up.

Now, that's the basic recipe, but what about something with a bit more kick? These little guys make a great beer snack, says my husband, and are fun if you're tired of just plain salted seeds.

Here you can see my latest addiction. Seeded rye rolls, a slice of browned ham, turkey bacon, fresh tomato from the garden, perfectly ripe avocado, a slice or two of Monterey Jack cheese and, the pièce de résistance, honey-mustard sauce.

My husband felt like having honey-mustard sauce the other day, so he looked around and came up with the recipe below. The pepperiness of the basil perfectly complements the spiciness of the garlic and mustard as well as the sweetness provided by the honey. It is, in short, perfection on a sandwich.

It's almost lunchtime. Can you guess what's on the menu?

Lieto sviestmaizēm, sviesta vietā.

I haven't been posting many pictures lately, I know. I've been having trouble getting my shots to come out well, partially because the days are shorter and the light I usually depended on in the summer is now well before dinnertime. This time, I was able to scrounge up enough afternoon sunlight to do the job.

When I went through the pantry, I noticed we didn't have enough tequila to make another set (or even one) of margaritas. I don't have the room for two bottles of tequila until we have margaritas again, so Tequila Lime Chicken Tacos went on the menu. Now, this chicken recipe is good just on its own with a salsa topping, but mmm.. fresh, homemade tortillas... Gotta be taco night!

Tacos need salsa, however. Since I also scored some tomatillos from a local garden recently, a salsa verde seemed in order.

Tomatillos are tart green tomatoes with a papery husk, which is why you might know them as husk or ground tomatoes. They're usually used for salsa verdes (lit., green sauce) in Mexican cuisine, sometimes raw, sometimes roasted. For those of you who don't have tomatillos available fresh, you might be able to find them canned in the international/Mexican section in your grocery. If you don't have tomatillos at all, you can substitute green or plum tomatoes plus a dash of lemon juice.

According to foodsubs, cape gooseberries, which I had in Latvia where they're known as fizālis, are acceptable substitutes as well, but if they're very sweet, I would still add some lemon or lime juice as well.

(Personally, I'm thrilled that I finally know what these little golden guys are called. I usually had them at restaurants and cafes where they seemed to decorate the majority of desserts. We don't have cape gooseberries in my region of America so I had no idea what they were.)

Okay, enough babble. Let's cook!

I haven't been posting many pictures lately, I know. I've been having trouble getting my shots to come out well, partially because the days are shorter and the light I usually depended on in the summer is now well before dinnertime. This time, I was able to scrounge up enough afternoon sunlight to do the job.

When I went through the pantry, I noticed we didn't have enough tequila to make another set (or even one) of margaritas. I don't have the room for two bottles of tequila until we have margaritas again, so Tequila Lime Chicken Tacos went on the menu. Now, this chicken recipe is good just on its own with a salsa topping, but mmm.. fresh, homemade tortillas... Gotta be taco night!

Tacos need salsa, however. Since I also scored some tomatillos from a local garden recently, a salsa verde seemed in order.

Tomatillos are tart green tomatoes with a papery husk, which is why you might know them as husk or ground tomatoes. They're usually used for salsa verdes (lit., green sauce) in Mexican cuisine, sometimes raw, sometimes roasted. For those of you who don't have tomatillos available fresh, you might be able to find them canned in the international/Mexican section in your grocery. If you don't have tomatillos at all, you can substitute green or plum tomatoes plus a dash of lemon juice.

According to foodsubs, cape gooseberries, which I had in Latvia where they're known as fizālis, are acceptable substitutes as well, but if they're very sweet, I would still add some lemon or lime juice as well.

(Personally, I'm thrilled that I finally know what these little golden guys are called. I usually had them at restaurants and cafes where they seemed to decorate the majority of desserts. We don't have cape gooseberries in my region of America so I had no idea what they were.)

Okay, enough babble. Let's cook!

Tequila Lime Chicken Tacos

1 recipe Tequila Lime Chicken (recipe follows) 1 recipe Roasted Tomatilla Salsa (recipe follows) or your favorite salsa 1 recipe Thick & Fluffy Flour Tortillas (recipe follows) or other tortillas refried beans and/or mexican rice cheese - shredded or crumbled (such as queso fresco, queso oaxaca, etc.) limes shredded green or napa cabbage

I like to build my tacos with shredded meat, cabbage, cheese and salsa, plus a twist of lime, leaving the beans and rice for side dishes. However, tacos are flexible. They don't mind how you put them together.

Tequila Lime Chicken Most of the work here is in the marinade. After that, it's just frying it up and shredding it. Or, leave the breasts whole and drizzle the Roasted Tomatillo Salsa over them. Serves 2 - 3 if shredded. Marinade will accommodate 2 whole boneless breasts.

Marinade 2 tbsp teriyaki sauce juice of 1 lime 1 tbsp (3 cloves) garlic, crushed 2 tbsp tequila 1 tsp oregano 1/2 tsp ginger

1 large boneless, skinless chicken breast

Combine marinade ingredients in a ziptop baggie and mix well before adding the chicken breast. Refrigerate for several hours or up to 2 days, flipping every 12 hours.

When ready to cook, remove chicken and discard marinade. Over moderate heat, saute chicken until golden brown.

If using for tacos: Remove and shred with either your fingers or two forks.

Roasted Tomatillo Salsa This is a fairly typical salsa verde. It's fairly smooth which makes it a great sauce to pour over tacos, chicken, burritos, enchiladas, and so on, but I wouldn't try to eat it with chips.

Makes about 1 1/2 cups

1/2 lb (200g) tomatillos, washed and papery husks removed 1 small (100g) tomato 3 cloves roasted garlic, crushed 1 tsp salt 1 - 2 jalapenos juice and zest of 1/2 lime 1/4 c red or white onion, finely diced 1 tbsp cilantro, minced

Halve tomatillos and tomatoes and arrange in a single layer on a baking sheet along with the whole jalapeno(s). Broil 4 - 6 inches from the heat for about 5 minutes until nicely roasted with black spots. Flip everything over and broil for an additional 4 - 5 minutes until the other side is nicely roasted as well.

Place jalapenos in a paper bag and let them steam for a few minutes. Remove the skin (it should flake or peel right off). Remove the stem (and seeds, if desired). Combine tomatillos, tomatoes and jalapenos in a food processor or blender. Pulse a few times to puree (some chunks are good) and remove to a bowl.

Combine remaining ingredients with tomatillo-pepper puree. Adjust seasoning to taste. Let rest for 30 minutes to allow flavors to blend.

Thick & Chewy Flour Tortillas From Suzanne McMinn (Chickens in the Road): "Making Flour Tortillas" Makes 6 6" tortillas

1.5 cups all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon salt 1.5 tbsp lard (or shortening, i.e., Crisco) 1/2 cup milk

In a medium bowl, stir together dry ingredients. Cut in lard with a fork, fingers or a pastry blender. Stir in milk and mix together well with a spoon until it becomes difficult, then begin kneading by hand. It will be dry at first, but don't despair. Keep kneading it until the dough comes together. Cover the bowl and allow it to rest for about 20 minutes. The dough should be pliable and not very sticky.

Sprinkle some flour over and knead it in briefly. Divide the dough into six equal balls.

I used a silicone baking mat to roll my dough out on, which helped as I could see that the dough did not need any additional flour picked up from the board. If you don't use something non-stick, like the counter, a pastry board or waxed paper, you probably will need to sprinkle a bit of flour to prevent sticking.

Roll out each dough ball as thin as possible without breaking or ripping the dough. (Vaguely tortilla-shaped is okay too! Amoeboid-tillas taste just as good.) If it sticks, use more flour. Set finished tortillas aside, separating into layers using waxed paper or cellophane or hand them off to your honey to cook while you flatten another out.

Heat a cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. No oil is used with tortillas, so doing this can be detrimental to non-stick pans. Don't worry, the tortillas won't stick, especially if your pan is well-seasoned. (We cook bacon in ours almost every day and it's slick as can be.)

Cook each tortilla for about 30 seconds on each side. They'll probably shrink a bit as they puff up nicely and develop browned spots. Remove and keep warm under/inside foil while you cook up the rest. (And remember, if one doesn't come out nicely, it can go to the "dog". Woof!)

Notes: 1. Please visit Suzanne's blog for step-by-step photos and the recipe for making thin tortillas, not to mention lots of goats, chickens and big puppies!

I wasn't happy with the way the first Tahini Stirfry came out but it was definitely an ingredient I wanted to work with again. The problem became how to best use it.

I love Thai (oh how I miss Thai Bistro in Mill Creek, Washington!) so I thought maybe some red curry paste would go well. Then I thought, since I was following a Thai theme, why not do something along the lines of my favorite panaeng curry sauce? This version doesn't use as much coconut milk and, after cooking, is much thicker than my curry sauces usually are.

It came out pretty damn good, if I say so myself. We poured it over heaps of sauteed fresh veggies, a bit of chicken and a whole lot of rice. Delish.