These are the days without light. The sun shines not even nine hours now, and although I am thankful to no longer be in the high latitudes of Minnesota, I am one of those affected by the seasons. I find myself sleeping more and leaping to irritation (which, I believe, is just west of Modesto) far faster than in the springtime.

The plants of my garden, which are a constant reflection of my mental state, are showing their age, and the rows are dotted with the blackened shapes of those plants kissed by the White Queen’s handmaidens. We even had a visit from the Queen herself the other day: Snow – in Sacramento. First time in a generation, I am told.

But Christmas is almost here, and life has been pretty good to me this year, so complaining and dark thoughts seem petty.

Still, today is the winter solstice. Not having a goat to sacrifice (that comes in spring for our Big Fat Greek Party), I thought I’d celebrate the dark with one of the rarest of culinary presentations: A black meal.

I present to you a dish I call Winter Solstice. It has been a long time in the making.

I’d been toying with the notion of making a black meal ever since I learned about black garlic, which is fermented. It has the mellowness of roasted garlic but with a tang to it. My friend Garrett gave me some, and it set my mind spinning. How to best present this new thing?

Soon afterward, black garlic became an “it” ingredient. I began seeing it everywhere in haute cooking. This upped the ante in my mind. Once my competitive juices begin flowing, it is not enough to use a new ingredient — I need to somehow use it in a special way, or fail spectacularly in the attempt. What to pair this garlic with?

Squid ink pasta, of course. I’ve already worked with squid ink pasta a number of times, and I have a favorite dish of black pasta, feta cheese, big strips of basil and chunks of fresh tomato; it’s beautiful. (You can buy squid ink pasta online.)

I now had black pasta and black garlic to work with. This got me thinking about other black foods. It is a truism (albeit a false one) that there is no blue food. But there is plenty of black food, or food that is very nearly black. Grilled blood sausage, also known as “black pudding” or “boudin noir.” Squid ink itself. Huitlacoche, that near-mystical sweet fungus that grows on corn that the Mexicans love so much. There are black radishes, although they are only black on the outside. There are even black sesame seeds and black cumin, which is really the seed of the pretty blue flower nigella.

I happened to have both of those seeds, and I recently bought some dried black trumpet mushrooms, which are in season now; they are black relatives of the chanterelle. I had enough ingredients to make a black dish, but I wanted an excuse.

Solstice was it. I decided to make the garlic into a sauce, sauté the black trumpets with some shallot in olive oil and serve it with the squid ink pasta. Version 1.0 needed some improvement: The squid ink pasta was imported from Italy and I thought it was too thick and gummy. I put too much olive oil in the dish, too, making it a bit greasy, and I could have cleaned the black trumpets better – these are notoriously full of dirt and grit. All fixable problems I have dealt with in the full recipe, which you can find here.

Why bother making this? First off, it’s seasonal, as squid are in season in the Pacific Northwest right now, as are black trumpet mushrooms. Being fermented, black garlic is available anytime, as is dried squid ink pasta.

Second, if you make Winter Solstice and it does not spark conversation at your table you are eating with zombies. Not only is the damn dish jet black, but it is made from relatively esoteric ingredients – yet tastes pretty similar to any pasta-garlic-mushroom dish you might eat in other hues. That’s the beauty of Winter Solstice: It may look freaky, but the flavors are familiar.

Convinced yet? You can buy most of the ingredients online. Dried black trumpet mushrooms and black garlic can be had at Earthy Delights, here’s where you can buy Black Sesame Seed, and here is where you can buy Squid-Ink Spaghetti from Sardinia.

If you try this dish, I would love to hear how it went over in your house. As for mine, Holly rarely blinks at anything I put in front of her anymore — even a dish of black pasta, with black mushrooms, dressed with a black garlic sauce.

MORE ON BLACK INGREDIENTS

• Black garlic scallops, by Jaden of Steamy Kitchen
• Black garlic with noodles, Asian style, by White on Rice Couple
• Peter from Kalofagas has Pork Tenderloin with a Black Trumpet Emulsion
• Lucy’s Kitchen Notebook on cleaning Black Trumpets

Buy Wild Mushrooms Online: