Muntrop: What to cook in November: Food you really really want to eat for the worst month of the year

(Photography, left: Doan Ly; middle: Leila Ashtari)

When I was in high school, I had some tough times, but the worst day of my life, as it was then, happened in November. November 7, if you must know. That was the day a girl and her gang of friends accosted me in front of the school, in front of everyone, accusing me of stealing her boyfriend. And reader, guess what: he'd told me they'd broken up. Also, since I can't remember if he and I'd shared more than a phone call, I'm not sure how much stealing really happened. Though I might have heard from his cousin that he wanted my number and I was probably pretty excited about that, so I'm not about to gaslight his girlfriend — something was definitely going down.

Anyway, she was in Grade 12 and I was in Grade 11, so in continuing to see him after they did break up (she dumped him; I clearly only set some standards later on in life), I became persona non grata — among vast and powerful cliques. By which I mean her friends, and there were many, wanted to kill me, and people who really didn't care much but had to choose a side chose hers. It was a stressful time for me! And oh so "November." I got in a car accident in November one year. The next November, my parents did. I have enough examples to assure you it's just not my time. If I could sleep, work and watch Netflix from under my bed for all of November, I'd never crawl out. Plus, there's the damn weather.

Does anyone like November? I suppose if you live in the Southern Hemisphere, my November is your "May" and you can't relate to this. Otherwise, I'm sure you'll agree that November's bleakness rivals February's — and leap years aside, it's a full two days longer. It's cold and rainy, and wind that once rustled lively leaves now strips their dried husks from the branches and sends them twisting, down, down. Down. Whether you have a cursed November the likes of mine or just a regular grey November, it calls for a particular kind of comfort food — and I don't mean what you think I might mean.

A lot of people (we here at CBC Life included) will push a particular type of comfort food, especially come "The Most Romantic Time of Year: Fall" — a subset of the actual season, lasting only from September 22 to November 1. That prescription for comfort food suggests you make squash the colour of the October sun! Or food that checks boxes like:

☐ Cozy

☐ Elaborate — you have all weekend, enough time to roll, hang-dry and freeze fresh pasta

☐ Pumpkin spice

The comfort food I'm talking about, for the Season of November, checks only one box:

☐ I really, really want to eat this

That sounds simple, but there are seven words in that sentence and most of them are critical to creating an eating experience that might take the edge off November. The first important word is the first one in the sentence: "I." The food I'm talking about serves YOU. My partner does not like onions, not at all, but November is no time for the, "What about X?" "Hmmm, not feeling it. What about X?" volley of dinner compromise. It's a time for me to roast a bunch of seasoned sliced onions in oil, then whisk some harissa paste into the oil for the last 10 minutes before eating the hot, wilted mixture on soft bread. The next words are no exaggeration. The reason you have to "really, really want to eat" the thing is that satisfying mere hunger and standard cravings may be no match for this month's brand of ennui. These are not ordinary times: it's November out there. I'm not imagining you're going to wash, cut and cook anything unless you want it bad, and making it is going to be worth it.

Watch out for the other tropes of that earlier season, which include — but are not limited to — lighting candles, pouring wine and listening to music while you cook. Do those things if you'd like, but would playing a favourite podcast interview that you've listened to so many times it's now just a soothing drone of sound be better? If you're going to set any mood in November, especially while you're making the thing you really, really want to eat, make sure it fits.

With that in mind, even though I'm leaving you with some ideas, I'd be very happy if none of them appealed to you. Hopefully that would mean that I've inspired you to choose to eat what you want, not what I want. Check that one box for yourself as many times as you can in November, and see you on the other side.

Kho