Thai Red Curry Coconut Kabocha Squash Soup…that’s a bit of a mouthful.

In keeping with my pumpkin/winter squash theme (after the recent last pumpkin/winter squash-related post), decided to do a savory dish this time around.  What better way to embrace the fall than with a pumpkin — actually, kabocha squash to be exact — soup.

Kabocha squash is a Japanese varietal with sweet, creamy, tender flesh.  But there are any number of winter squash you can use — perhaps hubbard, butternut, black futsu (my latest discovery), red kuri, sweet meat…to name a few.  Do you have a favorite winter squash varietal?

The Internet is replete with food bloggers and other pumpkin/winter squash enthusiasts writing about their beloved winter gourd and, no doubt, pumpkin/winter squash soup.  So here’s my take on it, my contribution to the blogosphere.

What I dislike about the majority of pumpkin soups is the addition of sugar or other sweeteners. I prefer a savory soup sans maple syrup or apples.  In my humble opinion, winter squash are inherently sweet enough. Obviously, taste is highly subjective, so it’s all about what you like.  My mom would not touch this soup because she despises anything (and I mean anything) that is “creamy” (I know, very strange, I’ve never heard of anyone not liking “creamy.“).

On the contrary, I prefer the contrast of sweetness from the kabocha squash with the spicy (subtle spiciness from the Thai chile paste), salty (saltiness [and umami] from the fish sauce), and sour (from the fresh lime juice) notes.  And (sorry mom) it’s creamy; I added coconut milk, which I feel integrates well with these Thai-inspired flavors.

The two, small, orange squash (on the right) and the greenish/black squash (in front) are kabocha; the larger, orange one with the long stem (on the left) is black futsu, which I read has a rich hazelnut flavor (eager to give this one a try).

Thai Red Curry Paste…

You could certainly use store bought Thai red curry paste.  However, you can easily make your own.  It’s not hard, but you will have to track down a few key ingredients.  Once you’ve procured all your ingredients, you can pound in a mortar and pestle for a good 20 minute or so (the traditional method) or simply place in a food processor to form a paste.

The rather odd-looking, pinkish root on the right is fresh galangal, which I found at my local farmers’ market (you should be able to find galangal at most Asian grocery stores).  This was the first time I had ever come across extremely fresh galangal.  When galangal is fresh, it is quite tender.  When I find galangal in the store, it’s been sitting around for a while and extremely tough, so be careful when slicing.  While related to ginger, galangal has a more intense flavor — peppery, woodsy/piney, with floral/citrusy notes.

The other ingredient that may be a challenge is cilantro root.  I’m not sure why the roots are always chopped off?  They have a ton of flavor  — same thing with shrimp, why not keep the heads on?  They too have loads of flavor.  I periodically ask my fishmonger to bring in some head-on shrimp, but no such luck thus far; apparently, according to the fishmonger, they don’t sell.  Sorry about the rant, I digress, back to the cilantro roots.  If you can’t find cilantro root, substitute with cilantro stems.

You should be able to readily find the remaining ingredients — dried chiles, red Thai chiles, lime, lemongrass, garlic, and onion.

I previously wrote about growing your own microgreens on your windowsill here.  They add a nice little touch to any number of dishes.

Today I used a combination of daikon radish microgreens, which are spicy and peppery, just like a radish, and beet green microgreens, which are sweet and reddish/purple in color, just like beets.  It’s amazing how something so tiny can pack such a punch of flavor.

Or, forego the microgreens and top with a handful of toasted pumpkin seeds.