Creamy Roasted Brussels Sprout and Quinoa Gratin

I carved a pumpkin this week, which is not a Jewish activity and which Sylvia would have found perplexing ("You're doing what to a gourd?") but which I do every year because the pumpkin sits on the front porch and signals to the neighborhood that the Feldman house is participating in October, which is a form of community engagement that requires no physical proximity and therefore qualifies as pandemic-safe socializing. I carved a simple face — two triangular eyes, a jagged smile — the same face I've carved for thirty-five years, because I learned one face and I stick with it, because Ruth Feldman does not innovate on pumpkins. Ruth Feldman innovates on brisket. Pumpkins get the classic.

Miriam called from Tel Aviv. She's seventy now — turned seventy in September — and the milestone went unmarked because everything goes unmarked in pandemic year, or marked differently, marked with phone calls instead of parties, with the distance between Long Island and Tel Aviv feeling simultaneously vast and irrelevant, because what is geography when everyone is isolated? Miriam is alone in her apartment. Avi is healthy, her children are in the army or at university, and she is alone the way I am alone — with a husband nearby (hers healthy, mine not) and a life that has shrunk to the dimensions of a kitchen and a phone. We talked for an hour. We talked about Sylvia. We talked about the kugel. We did not talk about how long this will last, because "how long" is a question neither of us can answer and both of us are tired of asking.

I made a pumpkin soup — roasted pumpkin, not canned, because I have standards and my standards include the labor of scooping and roasting a pumpkin when the canned version is sitting right there on the shelf, available and easy and acceptable to most people but not to me, because Sylvia did not raise me to accept the canned version of anything. The soup was golden and velvety and tasted like October distilled into a bowl. I ate it with the pumpkin sitting on the porch, grinning its triangle grin at the empty street, and the soup was warm and the night was cool and the pumpkin was guarding the house and it was, for one evening, enough.

The pumpkin soup lasted two evenings, and then it was gone, and the pumpkin on the porch was still grinning, and I was still alone in the kitchen looking for something warm to do with my hands. This gratin — roasted vegetables, something creamy, something that requires actual tending in an actual oven — is the kind of dish Sylvia would have approved of: nothing canned, nothing lazy, nothing that doesn’t reward the labor. I made it the week after the soup, while Miriam and I were still trading phone calls across the time zones, and it kept me company the same way the pumpkin did: quietly, reliably, without asking anything back.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, divided
1/2 teaspoon black pepper, divided
1 cup uncooked quinoa, rinsed
2 cups vegetable broth
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 small yellow onion, finely diced
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided
1/2 cup shredded Gruyère cheese
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg

Instructions

Roast the Brussels sprouts. Preheat oven to 400°F. Toss halved Brussels sprouts with 1 tablespoon olive oil, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Spread on a rimmed baking sheet and roast 20–25 minutes, until edges are caramelized and sprouts are tender. Reduce oven to 375°F.
Cook the quinoa. While sprouts roast, bring vegetable broth to a boil in a medium saucepan. Add quinoa, reduce heat, cover, and simmer 14–16 minutes until liquid is absorbed. Fluff with a fork and set aside.
Build the cream sauce. In a skillet over medium heat, warm remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil. Add onion and cook 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and thyme; cook 1 minute more. Pour in heavy cream and bring to a gentle simmer. Stir in 1/4 cup Parmesan, the Grüyère, nutmeg, remaining salt and pepper, and cook 2–3 minutes until sauce thickens slightly.
Assemble the gratin. In a lightly greased 9x13-inch baking dish, spread cooked quinoa in an even layer. Arrange roasted Brussels sprouts over the top. Pour cream sauce evenly over everything. Sprinkle remaining 1/4 cup Parmesan across the surface.
Bake until golden. Bake at 375°F for 20–22 minutes, until the top is golden and bubbling at the edges. Let rest 5 minutes before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Roasted Brussels Sprout and Quinoa Gratin — When the Pantry Outlasts the Pumpkin