Breakfast fit for a king...or a queen...

Weekend breakfasts feel special. LB wakes up early and takes the dogs out of the bedroom as soon as they start whining for breakfast (one of their most annoying habits), and I get to sleep an extra hour or until I'm ready to get up (I told you he was quite wonderful!). For whatever reason, I need 9 hours of sleep to feel like a normal person...there's none of that "8 hours of sleep" for me! I don't usually get those nine hours of sleep I need, but I do try to get as many as I can on the weekends. Once I'm up and around, we make coffee (so that it doesn't sit on the coffee pot warmer and get nasty!) and then usually LB will make breakfast.

LB loves whipping up a weekend breakfast. He certainly makes a mean meal of perfectly runny eggs, crispy potatoes and toast, and he's also learning how to make delicious fritattas and has his very own modified pancake recipe. Basically, I get to feel like a queen on Saturday mornings. So sometimes, I like to make LB feel like a king too...by making him something special and very out of the ordinary for breakfast.

If I could imagine the perfect breakfast food for LB, it would be apple turnovers. He loves apple turnovers. In fact, I think that if I made a trip down to the coast to collect my research samples and didn't come back with a Tomaselli's apple turnover, LB might rethink this marriage thing all together.

With no research trips planned this winter, LB is very lucky that I came across this recipe by Barefoot Contessa for fresh, easy apple turnovers. Even easier than I could have possibly imagined! Even better is that it's perfectly adaptable. I've used lemon juice and lemon zest instead of orange; dried cranberries or raisins instead of dried cherries; added nuts and imagined so many possibilities (some of which you may be seeing soon). All you need to do is to remember to take out the puff pastry the night before and you have an extremely easy breakfast that's impressive enough to serve guests. Supposedly, you can also even make the turnovers the night before and just toss them in the oven before breakfast. No matter what, they're delicious. We also added our own touch: cinnamon glaze to give it a little added sweetness to help balance out the tartness of the apples. Just mix 1/4 cup of confectioners sugar with just enough water (or OJ) to make it so that you can drizzle it across your turnovers. Add a pinch of cinnamon to that, and start your drizzling. Mmmm....delicious.

Even better, now LB knows how to make them! I'm looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow...
Have a wonderful, food-filled, sleep-filled weekend! And don't forget to get your ideas in for LB's new name...only 1 week to go!

A little help from my friends? ...a plea...

Once upon a time in the land of PhD,

There lived a smart boy; his name was LB.
LB was a bachelor, and a grad student too,
Meaning: he was poor and ate mostly cheap food.

One day, things they changed for this eligible man,
The Heavens collided; the Fates lent a hand.
LB met a girl, and that girl loved to cook,
His stomach went first, but his heart soon was hooked.

She baked cookies and pies, salmon and curds,
Borscht, chicken soup, quiche and roast birds.
She kneaded bread, made rare steaks, wooed him with spice,
She got in under his skin; used her food to entice…

As she cooked and she cooked, she wrote it all on her blog.
Before long, she’d convinced him they even needed a dog.
This girl, she was perfect! And LB, he fell hard,
Without second thoughts, he turned in his bachelor card.

A year or two passed in this shared courtship glee,
Until LB bit the bullet, and asked her, “Marry me?”
Lucky for him, the girl actually said, “Yes!”
(Lucky for her too, I do have to confess.)

The girl shared her delight with her readers online,
They sent their support, told her: “This LB, he seems fine!”
But as she enjoyed this post-engagement bliss,
Everything seemed dandy, yet something felt amiss.

LB stands for “Loving Boyfriend,” but this name cannot stay!
For LB is no longer “Boyfriend;” he’s become “Fiancée.”
So to you, dear readers, this girl makes a plea:
Please help her come up with a new name for LB!

Be creative! Be daring! Be simple! Be nice!
Be funny! Be cute! Give the dear boy some spice!
Choose this name carefully – be it short, be it long,
For the name that is chosen will grace LB from now on.

*****

LB and I are not a very "traditional" couple. We don't know when we first got together or when our "anniversary" is (sometime in February? Maybe?). We don't allow flowers if something bad goes down (flowers are only for happy occasions!) and the thought of using the term "financee" to describe each other to the people around us feels weird and sort of pretentious...which isn't to say that I don't pull it out in certain occasions where it can be quite useful (he he he). For us, it immediately brings to mind images of Elaine from a Seinfeld episode called The Stranded:

Fiancé Woman: I wonder what happened to my fiancé, I know he's here somewhere, Ellen have you seen my fiancé?.

Lady: He's upstairs.
Fiancé Woman: Are you going upstairs?, tell my fiancé I'm looking for him, I have lost my fiancé, the poor baby.
Elaine: Maybe the Dingo ate your baby.
Fiance Woman What?.
Elaine: The Dingo ate your baby.

Maybe the problem is that we just watch too much TV? However, I've also recieved reprimands that LB is no longer my "boyfriend" anytime I use it in conversation with our friends who know we're getting married. So, instead of going with the traditional "fiancee" or "fiance" (whatever), I'm handing the job over to you, my dear readers. Please help me come up with something to call my "non-boyfriend!" I'll reveal the "winner" next Friday, so you have one week to come up with the most creative, funny, cool, dumb and/or fitting name you can muster and this name will be LB's moniker on this blog from now on...or at least until he becomes "husband"...perhaps then we'll have to have another contest of sorts? Thanks for your help!!

I told you so...

It feels like "World's Rainiest City" right now, but ah, the summers sure do make you forget about what the winter's are like!

I woke up at 2 AM last night from a dead sleep and realized that I FORGOT to post yesterday! Yikes! Now blogging is affecting my nightime rituals! Good thing I'm a TarFoBlo and not playing the real NaBloPoMo or I would be a real loser...at least this way I can make up my own rules (like Ilva). I told you I have problems commiting to things.

All these acronyms are killing me. I've got a "good" (read: quality) post for tomorrow, so please come back, because I need your help on this one...

Sunshine... to wash away the darkness

I'm not sure about the rest of you (well, those of you who have to abide by daylight savings), but I hate when it gets dark at 5 PM. You go to work when it's light out (even that by itself should be a crime!), and when you come home from work, when you should start actually getting to enjoy your evening and relax and do all the things you didn't have time for during the day, it's already dark. And if you're in Oregon, it's probably already raining too. But the dog needs to be walked. After work errands need to be run. Dinner needs to be made.

So here's a bit of sunshine for dinner to keep the darkness (and cold!) of daylight savings away... This soup has a robust, full flavor even though the ingredients are simple. The roasting brings out tons of flavor from the squash, apples and onion. The rest is just a bit of extra love.
And if you like to cook seasonally, this soup is perfectly Autumn, with a color to match!


Sunshine Soup, serves 4-6
1 medium sunshine kabocha squash, peeled and chopped into 1" pieces
2 granny smith apples, or another tart variety, peeled, cored, and quartered
2 cloves of garlic, crushed
1 large onion, peeled and quartered
2 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
3-4 cups of vegetable or chicken stock or broth
chili powder, to taste
salt, to taste

Any squash could be substituted, but the sunshine kabocha is perfect with the chili powder and apples is an excellent combination. Mix the squash, apples, garlic and onion with the olive oil in a large roasting pan. Sprinkle with a good dose of salt and chili powder. Roast at 400F for 45 minutes to an hour, or until everything is tender and caramelized. Allow to cool slightly. (I did this on a day I had lots of time, then mixed up the soup and warmed it through on one of my "busy" nights for a quick dinner!) Put the roasted vegetables (and fruit), along with about 2 cups of broth in a blender and blend until smooth. It may take two batches to puree the entire thing. Add more broth if necessary.

Pour the soup into a saucepan and add more broth until you have the texture you want (more if you want it more soupy, less if you like it hearty, thick and like babyfood!). Then add more chili powder and salt to taste, if needed. Heat until warmed through. The flavors will develop if the soup is made a day before, but it's delicious the day it's made also. Enjoy! And Happy Monday!

Souffle...by ovenlight

No recipe for this...just from the picture archives. But a rising souffle is something that can be appreciated just by itself, I think. Well, I was proud anyhow. Until I burned the crap out of my tongue trying to eat and serve it before it deflated completely - just so that LB would see how high it had risen and be proud of me. Gosh, the things we do for love.

Thus, should I file this under Day 2 of The TarFoBlo-NaBloPoMo (Day 3 for the real NaBloPoMo crowd)? Or, perhaps as some Kitchen Wisdom: Please, please, let your souffle deflate...your unsinged taste buds will thank you.

We already have one other latecomer joining in...go see Mochene at The Sweet Life; also the name of my favorite bakery in town, Sweet Life Patisserie. Pastry chefs rule! Anyone else care to join us? Are we the only two tardy "kids" out there? Helllooooo???

The Tardy Foodblogger's NaBloPoMo

Dang. I missed it.

I'm too late to join in for NaBloMo (National Blog Posting Month, if, like myself, you weren't in the know), but I like the idea so much that I think I have to join in nonetheless, even if I can't officially join in.

The idea is that it will get you blogging.
Every day.
For the entire month of November.

That sounds like something I need these days. Sort of how I need to take an aerobics class to force myself to exercise. With a friend. And sometimes a second friend that will hold myself and my first friend accountable for going, because my first friend is just a little too much like myself. In fact, we've even paid for aerobics classes with the intention of going, and then never gone. Not one single time. But that's another story.

Lately, every spare moment I've had has been filled with the responsibilities of being a Teaching Assistant, trying to get some major lab work in so that I can graduate in May, and making every attempt possible at living a so-called "normal" life with two dogs, my boyfriend, one roommate and an insane amount of other things that just seem to "come up" daily. Not to mention planning our up-and-coming wedding. Sheesh. Is it Whine Blogging Wednesday yet? Oh, wait, I guess I missed that too. Ah well, life is all about new beginnings, right?

The fact is, I miss ya. I miss all of ya. I miss your sites, your smiling faces, your photography, your recipes, your comments, all of it. I miss cooking elaborate meals and making fun things to share. I miss taking pictures of my food (weird to the outside world, I know, but I know you understand). This blogging community really is just that: a community. I miss my community. Not only a community, but a group of friends, separated only by miles but brought close through their adventures in the kitchen and their passion for food. I miss my friends.

However, I do have to remember to go and get some batteries for my camera...so it may be at least until Monday before I can post a picture that isn't lurking in the cyberspace of my computer. So, please, bear with me. I probably won't be able to post on the weekends either, but I promise to try and post as often as I can on them. And to post something every single day. Be it a picture. A poem. A tidbit of wisdom. Starting today, with this post. And second to this, I promise to try and come by your sites as often as I can, even if I can't make it by every day. I hope that you're all doing well...

Feel free to join me in The Tardy Foodblogger's NaBloPoMo, if you'd like. We can all just begin whenever we come across another Tardy Blogger posting every day - this way it doesn't matter that the official boat sailed on by us - we can still just hop on and smile! Maybe good-naturedly moon them as they pass just for being goody-two-shoes (how the heck do you spell that anyhow?) and then smile, smile, smile. And post. Post. Post.

If you'd like to read the real NaBloPoMo members, stop by Fussy's and check out who's in on it - those people who are far more on top of things than I am. Good for them! Good for me for trying, tardy as I am. Good for you for joining up even later than me! Ahh...it's nice to be back.

Inspiration from a Butterfly

I was recently tagged for a meme by Paz, a cooking novice like myself (but growing by leaps and bounds) from the other coast and author of the fabulous New York City blog, The Cooking Adventures of Chef Paz. The meme is The Butterfly Effect Meme, and to avoid any kitchen poxes that may come forth from not participating in a timely manner, here it is!

The Butterfly Effect Meme asks you to name food items or events that changed your foodie life. Specifically you are asked to recall “an item, person, event, or place” that affected you profoundly – something that created a moment you can look back at and say “that was a defining moment.” It doesn’t have to be “big, splashy” things. Instead, it can be something “small and simple” – something that changed the way you view the world.

These are the categories:
1. An ingredient
2. A dish, a recipe
3. A meal (in a restaurant, a home, or elsewhere)
4. A cookbook or other written work
5. A food “personality” (chef, writer, etc.)
6. Another person in your life

An ingredient:
A single ingredient that has changed my life? Now, that's tough. Not to deviate from the meme (does that qualify me for a pox too?!), but I don't think that I could name just one...I think just as the experiences of eating different foods in certain places or certain things were what stood out to me when trying to name "5 things to eat before you die" for that meme, I think that there has not been so much a single ingredient that has launched the foodie inside as the taste of quality ingredients...like farmer's market vegetables, soft and tender vanilla beans, spicy tellicherry peppercorns, fragrant freshly ground spices, and varieties of things like spices and chocolates from different countries that taste of the different environments they came from. I love this simply because it's like exploring the world through food the way that it should be, and it makes the experience of eating that much more of an adventure and far more fulfilling because sometimes there's no need to cook elaborate meals or dishes because you want to be able to taste each ingredient. This has also moved me away from just using all convenient foods as now I've learned to make several things from scratch...and I must say, they taste far better when I know I've "labored" over them (compare whipped cream to cool whip, for example, or homemade bread), and beyond that, I rather enjoy the labor! Quality ingredients and my love of food and cooking have also helped me stock my pantry over the last couple of years so that I always have most of what I need for recipes I want to try, which has made cooking easy and more affordable month by month.

A dish, a recipe:
Two words: Chicken stock. I had never made my own chicken stock before I started reading blogs and letting myself fall in love with food and cooking. Now I make it often, especially this time of year when it's cold and rainy outside and my body craves comfort foods. I save chicken carcasses, or when I can afford it, buy whole chickens just for stock. Once it has simmered away on the stove for hours scenting the house with its delicious fragrance, cooled and been skimmed free of fat, then I freeze it in aliquots (that's the scientist in me - I mean "portions"), and use it often. Now, I have even done it so many times that I don't have to get out books or recipes to make it (those of you who have been reading here for a while know the weight of that remark!). I love just throwing things together in the morning and waiting patiently for the fruits of my labor. Plus, it's inspired me to try other things that I would have bought at the store but now can make at home - like marshmallows!

A meal:
I've already written about this in the last meme I wrote: my birthday meal in Puerto Vallarta, where LB and I threw caution, and money (yikes!), to the wind and shared an extravagant and incredible meal at a cliffside restaurant. We tasted an exquisite fois gras, just how it should be served - thanks to our French waitor (go figure, eh?) - with Sauternes. We sipped cocktails and wine and the restaurant even ended up giving us a free dessert because they could tell how excited we were and how we purposefully taking our time to enjoy every course and learn as we went. It was worth every penny (we split the cost) and every moment of that evening with my LB was the perfect birthday present. Second to this meal would have to be my solitary breakfast of sustainable caviar in the Ferry Street Building in San Francisco, California, written about here. Both meals were presented beautifully, made of excellent ingredients and eaten mindfully - the experience, the food, and my surroundings were all important in making them memorable...and increasing my desire to have more of them!

A cookbook or other written work:
When LB and I first met, he didn't cook much. Not that he didn't enjoy cooking, nor have a few good recipes up his sleeve (mmm...his mom's apple pie), but he and our current roommate lived together like the bachelor's they were. Did I ever mention that my roomie eats mostly microwaveable meals? :) But LB liked making meals for me, and complained that he didn't have recipes - his cookbooks were limited and didn't contain recipes for simple things, like just plain, hearty, delicious pork roast, for instance. So we went on a mission - we went to our favorite bookstore here, Smith Family Bookstore, scoured the shelves for cookbooks and found The Joy of Cooking, and it's been a member of our own little family of cookbooks ever since...and we both use it so often and have loved it so well that it's become lovingly tattered and spotted with various cooking experiments over the years. I love it! You can find recipes for almost anything in there - even cactus paddles, which LB brought home (with an enormously cute smile) one day and we had to figure out what to do with them, and it's become a trusted friend whenever I have a cooking question.

A food personality:
I'd have to say here that Alice Waters is probably the one food personality that I admire most. I love her philosophy on food, on eating, on restaurants, and on how children should learn about food (Edible Schoolyard). She promotes fresh, organic food, small farmers, Slow eating, and so many other things and programs that I believe in and full-heartedly support when it comes to food. Her cookbooks also have amazingly delcious recipes (well, the one I have anyway - Chez Panisse Vegetables).

Another person in your life:
I'd like to have come up with this one first, but full credit goes to Paz: other food bloggers. I knew I liked to cook and enjoyed food, but from the first day when I discovered food blogs out here in cyberspace, you've been here with me, dear readers...encouraging me, supporting me, giving me hints and tips about things I'm cooking. You come by, leave your comments to brighten my day, and inspire me to no end with all of the amazing food that you post about on your own sites. I love learning about each of you and from you - your cooking, your histories, your cultures and experiences. You're really the people that have changed my cooking, watched it grow and helped me to become a better cook in general (from novice to amateur perhaps?!)...and I keep posting here because of you. In addition, many of you have become my friends, and I will always be thankful and grateful to have each you in my life.

A butterfly lights beside us, like a sunbeam...
and for a brief moment it's glory
and beauty belong to our world...
but then it flies on again, and although
we wish it could have stayed,
we are so thankful to have seen it at all.

Author Unknown

Now it's your turn - this meme has been going on a while, so I'm not sure who has done it or who hasn't. If you haven't participated yet, please do!

For now, I'm going to tag: (only if you have time, of course)
Vickie, of The Moveable Feast Food Blog
Nerissa, of Deetsa's Diningroom
Anna, of Sunday Night Dinners
and Natalia, of From Our Kitchen

You say to-MA-toe, I say to-MAY-toe; you said ugly, I say beautiful!

Some of you may remember my ramblings about the so-called "Ugly tomato" (pictured above) where I psuedo-scientifically taste-tested a tomato grown in Florida in the wintertime, the Uglyripe, that supposedly actually tasted like summer tomato. If you've been reading my site for any length of time, you've probably noticed my fondness for the red fruit; quite unlike my Eugene partner in food love, McAuliflower. Well, my tastebuds didn't particularily agree that the Uglyripe tomato tasted like a tomato in the summertime (although I was hoping that would be true...oh why can't that be true?), but I was particularly perturbed by the name they gave the decent-looking specimen of a tomato - Uglyripe. To me, this implies that the perfectly round, cardboard-tasting hockey pucks that you can get in the grocery store in the wintertime (oh, but let's not kid ourselves that summertime grocery store tomatoes are that much better) are what a "pretty" tomato looks like. I beg to differ! This is what a tomato looks like:

Knobby, mishappen, and definitely with some of those brown lines on the bottom on some of the most tasty of specimens! Sometimes big, bursting at the seems, with what I suppose to an untrained eye could be misconstrued as "blemishes." But, just as the ugly duckling turned into a swan with the passage of time, I think the Uglyripe, while not really tasting much like a tomato (although, bad scientist that I am, I could not bring myself to repeat the experiment to verify my results), sure as heck looks a bit more like a tomato that what you find in the grocery store! There is just nothing out there that tastes like a tomato picked from the vine; whether it be from a farmer's market, a friend's garden, or lucky you if you have your own vines in the garden. So, now as prime tomato season comes to an end and the last of these gorgeous little things are still bursting with sun and vine-ripened flavor, I thought I would just send a long a picture or two of what a real tomato looks like to pay homage to the noble tomato and in an effort to encourage all of you to not miss this last opportunity to enjoy the delicious taste of last summer and early Autumn before winter comes along and leaves us with only hockey pucks and Uglyripes once again.

Gorgeous, aren't they? Take a bow, little beauties, it's your time to shine!

One suggestion: This has become a favorite breakfast of LB and mine this summer - a toasted piece of hearty, whole grain bread (we love Cottage Grove Farmhouse Bakery's Dakota Bread), spread with a layer of cream cheese and topped with a few slices of ripe, red tomato. As always, the quality of the ingredients will turn this from something that is an okay combination of flavors into a stellar treat - but with the right tomato, it's pure heaven (I would eat this every morning, if LB would let me!).

"12 Pies Men Like Best" and Other Treasures

Just recently, I was able to sit down with my grandmother and sort through all of her recipes and cookbooks because she is no longer able to spend much time in the kitchen and my grandfather has become the primary cook in the house. There were certainly many treasures to be found. The first of the treasures she gave me was a book called "12 Pies Men Like Best," which I find just hilarious. How June Cleaver-ish! It was some kind of advertisement from Proctor and Gamble in 1931. The front of the little pamphlet shows a woman in an apron holding out a pie to a smartly dressed man. Like I want to make pies that men like because men like them! Ha! I want to make pies because I like them (although, um, uh, I guess I do try to make stuff that LB likes...)!

The next treasure was the cookbook pictured above; this one belonged to my grandmother's mother, my great-grandmother. I have no idea how old it is because unfortunately, the cover is missing, but it looks to be quite old, worn and well-used. I've tried finding the title on the web to figure out its publication date to no avail (there are cookbooks with this same name published in the 1800s all the way to the 1930s). But since it belonged to my grandmother's mother, and my great grandmother died when my grandma was young, it has to at least be at least as old as the 1930s. It's so amazing though: It's a compilation of recipes from home cooks around the U.S. and there are recipes for such dishes as rabbit pie, chow chow, watermelon ice cream, "luscious cake," and sour pickles. You can also note that the instructions are far less detailed than they are today, making me think that women, since they spent so much time in the home those days, had much more knowledge than I do about how to do things (like "make a pie crust that is delicately baked," and dress and joint a chicken "as usual") so that there didn't need to be much instruction in the recipe for them to follow. It's just amazing to look through! I'm definitely going to try some of these recipes when I get around to it...now, if I can only figure out how to dress and joint a chicken...

But lately, the one thing I've been treasuring most of all, was my great-grandmother's recipe for Date Nut Loaf Cake. I've decided that just as she passed it on to me, I will pass it on to you, because it's delcious! It's called a cake, but it's more like banana or zucchini bread...it's rich and dense, with a very distinct caramel flavor to it - especially in the end pieces (my favorite). It's also a wonderfully refreshing contrast to the usual banana or zucchini bread. At first I thought that perhaps I had written things down wrong because there were no spices in the ingredient list - but no, it has so much flavor to it that there's no need (although, I may try adding some cardamom or perhaps a little cinnamon next time, just to see what it ends up like). The recipe is also done a little differently than I normally would do things; for instance, creaming the butter and sugar and eggs together (I usually would do sugar and butter together, then do eggs one at a time), but this works too, so I've just written it as she did. Another note: the humidity of where you live will make a big difference in the texture of the loaf. I made this in Oregon exactly as written and it came out beautifully - I made it in Colorado and it came out crumbly and didn't hold together well, so you may need to fiddle with the amount of liquid if that happens to you.


Great-Grandma's Date Nut Loaf Cake, recipe courtesy of my grandmother

1 cup butter or trans-fat free shortening (the original calls for shortening)
2 eggs
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup hot water
1 lb. nuts (pecans in her recipe, although I used a mixture of pecans and walnuts)
1 1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking soda
2 1/2 cup flour
1 lb. pitted dates, chopped
1 tsp. baking powder

Chop the dates and put them in a bowl. Sprinkle them with baking soda and add hot water. Mix, then let stand until cool. Cream together butter, sugar and eggs, then mix together flour, baking powder, salt and nuts in a separate bowl. Beat together the butter mixture with the flour mixture and date mixture, alternating between them and ending on the dates. Bake 1 hour at 300 F.

This is best made in a cast iron skillet, supposedly. If you don't have one (like I don't), it will make two standard-sized loaf pans of the bread (I'm not sure of the size of the cast iron skillet she used either). Be sure and grease them, and line the bottom with either a sized piece of brown paper grocery bag (grandma's way) or parchment paper (my way). Important: No matter which container you're cooking in, about 15 minutes into baking, you'll want to put tin foil around the edges to prevent them from burning...this gives it that nice caramelized crust. Enjoy!

Back to the bench...and to the kitchen!

Whew...take a breath.
Look around.
Breathe.
Notice what's happening around you.

Now...wait a sec. What are all of these fall colors and half-naked deciduous trees doing flaunting their stuff already? What is this cold chill in the air that makes me don sweatshirts and socks while lounging about my house in the evenings? How can the houses around me be decked out with Halloween decorations this early? What is this talk of Thanksgiving turkeys and dinner plans? How is it that my mom is already suggesting buying tickets home for Christmas?

This summer, with all of its trials and tribulations, experiences and obligations, literally flew by and passed me over. Somehow, I let my last summer in Oregon just slip by, unnoticed...I didn't stretch my toes in the sand on the beautifully gray Oregon beaches, star- and moon-gaze the long nights away, or spend luxurious moments spilling over tide pools or mountain streams. I spent only a single evening in the arms of LB cuddling next to a campfire (complete with an army of mosquitos), and I can count the number of hikes spent with my dogs on a single hand. I've only posted on this blog 7 times in the last two months. I haven't made a single advancement towards the planning of my wedding in the last month and a half, and I can't think of anything I did the entire month of September!

How did this happen? Is this the pace of life that the last year of graduate school takes on? Is it the pace of life that I've let my life become? Or have I just forgotten to "stop and smell the roses" in the midst of everything going on? I'm teaching now, so yes, my schedule has become far busier than before if that's possible. I'm still cooking; at times it's my only solace from the hustle-bustle of the rest of my world, but I find myself scarfing the meals I make - sometime even beating LB to the bottom of the bowl before he's halfway done, then scrambling to the kitchen to wash my dish and start my classroom "homework" (and LB is not a slow eater!). LB and I just returned from my sister's wedding (and some much needed rest) in Colorado to find that our surroundings have completely changed in the mere 7 days that we were gone...it's already deep into the Fall season. Some small part of me knew it had arrived before I left, but there's no denying it now. But with the chill in the air, the few rainy days we've had, and all of that snow I saw in the mountains from the plane...Winter is swiftly on its way.

I refuse to just sit back and let my very last Fall (for the next several years!) slip by me the way that I allowed Summer to do. So, now that I've recovered from the wedding (especially that bachelorette party! And I did make a very *cute* cake for that occasion!), it's back to the lab bench, back to teaching, and back to the kitchen. Luckily, our friends had bumper crops of zucchini and squash this summer, so we still have several in the fridge. Perhaps you do to? Once you've made steamed and grilled zucchini a hundred times, zucchini and squash ribbons about fifty times and so many loaves of zucchini bread you can't imagine eating any more of the stuff, you can try this recipe: Zucchini Pancakes with Basil Creme Fraiche. They're much lighter and "fluffier" than you would think. We found them quite refreshing, especially as an appetizer to a hearty Fall meal, or to accompany a bowl of minestrone soup.

You can find the original recipe here.

Zucchini Panckes with Basil Creme Fraiche, adapted from epicurious.com
Makes about 7 pancakes, but can be easily doubled.

For basil creme fraiche:
3/4 cup creme fraiche
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste

For pancakes:
4 cups coarsely grated zucchini (1 lb)
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 large egg whites
4 tablespoons vegetable or canola oil

Blend creme fraiche, basil, and salt in a blender until smooth and pale green. Chill until ready to serve. If you want a thicker sauce, you can strain the creme fraiche first on a paper towel or cheese cloth over a strainer for 20 minutes before adding the other ingredients.

Put zucchini in a colander and toss with salt. Let stand at room temperature 20 minutes, then wrap zucchini in a kitchen towel and twist towel to wring out as much liquid as possible. Transfer zucchini to a large bowl and stir in flour, sugar, and pepper. Beat egg whites with a pinch of salt using an electric mixer until they just hold stiff peaks, then gently fold into zucchini mixture.

Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a skillet over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking. Working in batches of 5, spoon 2 tablespoons batter per pancake into skillet, flattening slightly with back of spoon. Cook pancakes, turning once, until golden brown, about 3 minutes total, transferring as cooked to paper towels to drain and adding more oil to skillet as necessary.

Serve immediately, with basil creme fraiche.

It's all about the Experience

Natalia, of the wonderful blog From Our Kitchen, long ago (in fact, I'm probably the last food blogger out there now!) tagged me for the meme, "Five Things to Eat Before You Die" for the Food Blogger's Guide to the Globe. When I looked around to see other blogger's answers (you can see the entire list here on Melissa's fantastic blog, The Traveler's Lunchbox) and began thinking about about foods that I would want to recommend to others, I found that my list was composed of foods that weren't only spectacular in their own right, but centered mostly around the experience I had had while I enjoyed them. To me, it seemed that the atmosphere that surrounded my consumption of them, even just the time and the place and the feelings that were evoked by my memories of them, and the people that I shared them with, that made them special and stand out in my mind. So, without further adieu, here is my list of Five Things to Eat Before You Die...or at least, five experiences I'd love for you to have in your lifetime...

#1. Eat a Palisade peach, from Palisade, Colorado. Yes, they have peaches in Colorado (wine too, actually, and some of it is quite good). Drive out to the countryside in Palisade and choose yourself a local peach farmer who picked the fruit themselves and has been doing it for years and years, and will hand you entire peaches to taste and enjoy while you determine if you'd like to buy them. Feel the weight of the peach in your hands. Notice that it's almost too large to fit in a single palm. Notice how beautiful it is, how beautiful the entire box is; without a single bruise or blemish, and with a full covering of soft, gentle fuzz. Notice that you can tell that it's perfectly ripe, right now, just by the weight of it, the smell of it, and the way it feels in your hand - even without having to squeeze it.

If at all possible, do this while sitting on the porch of your childhood home, lazing around in your pajamas and staring out at the empty fields behind your house while remembering the times you and your brother adventured together when you were young - braving the waters, the dirt, the bugs, the treehouse and the cornfields off in the distance. Feel the warmth of the morning sun on your shoulders and the cool, crisp desert air kissing your skin. Let the juices run down your arms and over your lips, make your fingers sticky, and tumble down into the paper towel on your lap. Do this slowly, languorously, with as much slurping and licking your fingers as possible, and without a care in the world if someone will see you.

#2. Go to a bar in Spain. Any bar that will offer you a selection of tapas - usually there will be large legs of their exquisitely cured ham, or jamon (I do speak some Spanish, so pretend there are accents in the appropriate places for the duration of this paragraph...I just don't know how to do them on html!), hanging above the bar. Don't go to a fancy bar. Just choose one where you see lots of locals. Do this around 8 or 9 PM, as things don't get started until late here. Do this with someone you love talking to (always travel with someone you love to talk to!). Order a plate of jamon iberico. Since it's difficult (if not almost ridiculously expensive) to get a taste of this wonderful ham in the United States, just the feeling of being rebellious will add to the flavor of the meat if you're from here. Watch the bartender slice razor thin slices of your jamon from an entire hog leg held in a vice behind the bar, hooves and all, before he or she brings you your treat. Add to this a bit of quince paste, a little manchego viejo, some Spanish olives and perhaps a glass of house wine or sherry from Jerez.

After you've sipped your wine and tasted the tender, slightly musty and salty meat, look around the bar. Notice the people and the conversations happening around you. Relish in your own friends and the conversations you share with them. Take your time to do this. Just taste, sip, and talk for as long as you can. Follow this experience with a few hours of dinner and conversation before spending the night away dancing at the various night clubs that surround you. Ward off your hangover the next day by dipping hot, crispy, slightly greasy churros into a steaming pool of chocolate and enjoying a lengthy cup of excellent cafe con leche.


#3. Eat freshly caught halibut, pulled from the icy cold waters off the shores of Alaska only hours earlier, by you or someone you care about. Go to Seward or Homer, Alaska, and book yourself a charter boat. Choose your captain carefully, and you'll pleasantly find your deckhands are almost always enjoyable and helpful. Dress for the weather, taking all precautions to avoid getting seasick (trust me on this one), and spend 8 hours in the crisp Alaskan air deep-sea fishing and gazing out at the mountains, which actually do touch the sea. Listen to the seabirds and watch for whales, bears and other wildlife in the ecosytems surrounding you. Notice the ice-cold brilliant blue of the glaciers slowly cutting jagged scars into the mountains. You'll more than likely catch your limit (2) of this mild, lovely fish and while the younger, smaller ones taste better, the large ones are also quite delicious (and are far more impressive a catch).

When you feel a slight tug, jerk up gently, and start reeling in. Feel your muscles rebel against the weight of the fish (which can be up to 500 lbs!), the tension on the line, and the tons of water beneath you as you coax your fish upward. It will begin to fight as it reaches closer to the surface - so hang on! Once your fish is on the boat, and your muscles (or at least the deckhand's, or perhaps, Dad's) are spent, revel in the glory of winning this fight. When you get home, take a fresh fillet - cut it into chunks, dip it in beer batter made with a local Alaskan brew, and deep fry it until it's golden brown. Fish this fresh will literally melt in your mouth; tasting gently of ocean breezes, exhausted muscles, and cold, deep water.


#4. Taste fois gras with a splash of a French Sauternes...in the same mouthful. Certainly, there are issues with fois gras, and perhaps you do not agree with it, and then, this experience will just have to be passed by. But if you have never tried it, do. Even if it is just once. First take a small nibble of the fois gras; notice the silky-smooth texture of it, roll it around on your tongue tasting the mouthfeel of the slightly salty and fatty goodness. Then, take a second bite, combining it with just a sip of Sauternes - and let that sweetness cut through the fat and salt and balance out the fois gras and explode with flavor. Repeat, repeat, repeat...slowly and seductively until every bit is gone from your plate.

If possible, of course, do this in where everything is freshest and the wine is available, but it is also quite enjoyable to do it at the Vista Grill in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, on your birthday, out to a very nice dinner on a veranda with someone who loves you very much. Laugh with your French waiter about how odd it is to be eating fois gras, with Sauternes, in Mexico, per his suggestion, but how it is perfect, nonetheless. End your meal with a taste of 1921 Crema de Tequila, Mexico's decadent take on Baileys Irish Cream. Watch the sun go down over ocean and love every minute of your time there, along with every mouthful of deliciously fresh and gourmet food that follows and how every time you get up to go to the restroom, they refold your napkin for you.

#5. Visit Thailand and taste Khao Dome, or coconut sticky rice in banana leaves, handmade by a street vendor. Open up the banana leaf to find a delicious rectangle of sticky rice scented with coconut milk and filled with soft chucks of banana (or plantain). Do this while trekking around the historic city of Ayutthaya, near Bangkok, and marvel at the stunning ruins of this once majestic city. Revel in the brightly colored silks, gigantic Buddha statues, and the feeling of seeing something so ancient and steeped with cultural history. Let yourself feel the sadness of the various tragedies that surround you - that so much was lost when it was destroyed, including the majority of the art and literature, and that thieves and would-be money-makers have chopped off the heads of many Buddhas and stolen them. But also feel the power that comes from such a unique place and full of so many interesting things to see. My new friend, Karen, who has a wonderful blog called Ramblingspoon.com, shares lots of stories about her travels and adventures in Thailand and Cambodia and all kinds of delicious food with her readers, and helped me remember what this sweet snack was called (she has also opened my eyes to many new blogs featuring yummy foods from this area of Asia)...Thanks, Karen!

And thank you, Natalia, for tagging me. Since I've been out of the loop a bit, I have no idea who has or has not done this meme, so if you haven't and you're visiting here, please join in and let us in on your secret knowledge of delicious delicacies you've tried!

Returning to my roots...part 1

The weather is getting cooler now, and I can tell that Fall is upon us. The leaves have begun to trade their brilliant green hues for softer yellows, reds and browns and then make their final journey to the ground. The air grows crisp in the mornings and the first rains are falling from the heavens, and my body, in turn, begins to yearn for clothes that cling softly to my skin, down comforters, closed-toed shoes and food that warms my soul.

Fall is, by far, my favorite season. The smells, the chill in the air, the colors, the feeling of a new beginning (perhaps this feeling should come in Springtime, but for someone who has been in school now for almost 17 years, Fall is when everything begins anew), but it's also about the food. This may have been why I began my little food blog in the Fall, a little over one year ago. I find I don't mind spending long hours in the kitchen since it is far cooler than it has been the last few months. And the food at the market is food that brings back so many good memories and is as ripe with childhood nostalgia as it is with flavor. Apples, grapes, eggplant, mushrooms, figs, and heavy, red tomatoes. At the grocery store, I find my choices are now leaning towards richer, heavier foods...picking out free-range chickens for both dinner and batches of homemade chicken stock, spices like sage and thyme, heady cheeses, and thick, hearty breads.

The last time I was home, I sat with my grandmother (my dad's mother, not the one who recently passed away) and we dove through her recipes and cookbooks, seeking out her favorites and my favorites and the ones that she wanted to pass down to me since she knows how much I love to cook, and she isn't able to do the cooking any longer. There were recipes for casseroles of all kinds, yeast breads and rolls, ethnic recipes (Guamanian chicken is one that I'll share later, from when she lived in Guam), and several of her own mother's dishes.

What I remember most about the time spent with my grandmother in my childhood are the breakfasts - lots of fresh biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and bacon. But secondary to those feasts, I remember the trips to Texas. My grandmother was the second oldest child in a family with 8 children. She was born in Texas and many of her siblings still reside all over the state. We used to go there for family reunions when I was younger. And Lord, can those Texans cook! Anything fried was certainly a specialty, but my favorite? Fried okra. Nobody, and I mean, nobody, can make fried okra taste like a Texan can. And lucky me? There's been loads of these fresh, green pods at the Farmer's Market, nestled in with all that gorgeous Fall produce.

My first attempt at fried okra, via grandma's word of mouth and the way her family has always cooked it, is what follows. And it's delicious. It's not healthy, but sometimes family recipes trump healthy, and anyway, who cares if it's healthy? It's freakin' delicious! Besides, since it is Fall, we should be storing up for Winter, right? Beware making too large of quantities of this - it goes down like popcorn and it's difficult to stop eating it.

Eakin Family Fried Okra, recipe courtesy of Evelyn Baysinger

Get yourself several pods of fresh okra or a bag of frozen okra (though not quite as good, still pretty darn tasty). Whisk together 1 or 2 whole eggs in a bowl, depending on how much okra you have. In another bowl, put 1/4 to 1/2 cup of flour and an equal amount of cornmeal. Put this flour mixture inside a large ziplock bag and add salt, pepper and avery slight pinch of cayenne pepper.

Now, here's the secret: Cook 1/2 lb - 1 lb of your favorite smoked bacon in a heavy pan (cast iron would be ideal) until crisp. Remove the bacon and drain on a paper towel. Reserve the bacon for another use, and reserve the bacon grease to cook your okra in (Aha! That's why it tastes so delicious!). Keep the heat at a moderate heat, then if you have fresh okra pods, cut them into 1/2" pieces and put them directly in the bowl with the egg. Mix until all of the pieces of okra are coated well. Pick them out with a slotted spoon and add them to the bag with the four/cornmeal mixture. Close up the bag and shake it gently until all the okra is coated with the flour mixture. Pick a good handful of okra out and shake off the excess flour (there won't be much), then add it to the pan with the bacon grease. Fry the okra until it turns golden brown on all sides, turning as needed. Drain the grease off the okra on a paper towel and repeat, cooking the rest of the okra. Attempt to restrain from eating the entire plate full.

I served the okra with Chicken with Lots of Garlic, turnips with bread crumbs and parsely, and wilted turnip greens. For dessert, Great-grandma's Date Nut Loaf Cake (I'll post this one soon too).

Rosemary is for Remembrance

"There's rosemary; that's for remembrance.
Pray, love, remember."
~Shakespeare, Hamlet

Rosemary has been a symbol for remembrance since ancient times. It has been used as a symbol of love and remembrance at both weddings and funerals, as well as a number of other ceremonies. For newlyweds, its a symbol of fidelity and a promise not to forget the vows they made that day; for loved ones who have passed on, a symbol of love and a promise not to forget the impact they had on your life and the memories that you shared with them.

For me, today, it is a symbol of love and remembrance not only for the people who tragically died on September 11, 2001, but also for my grandmother and my great-aunt, both of whom passed away this Saturday.

I think that the most important thing that I have learned this summer has been that relationships are what's paramount in life. We are all busy; we have dreams we're trying to follow and passions we're trying to live, we have jobs and school, cooking and cleaning, traveling, hobbying, finding our way in the world and trying to discover who we are inside and if that matches up to who we want to be. But we are also surrounded by people who care about us; no matter how far away they may be, or even the time passed since we last spoke. We have to put effort into these relationships: cradle them, hold them near and dear to our hearts and show those that we care about, just exactly how much we care in whatever way possible - even a simple phone call or a few minutes of our time. Just so that they really get it - because of another simple fact of life - they will not always be around.


I was so fortunate to be able to go home the week before last and spend more time than usual with my grandmother. I am only able to go home once or sometimes twice a year and had taken an extra trip home this month because my stepfather was diagnosed with cancer earlier this summer and was supposed to begin treatment. An unexpected "blessing," I suppose, was that his treatment was delayed and we were all able to just spend time together as a family. My grandmother was already in a nursing home after suffering two heart attacks a few weeks ago (although, thankfully, she was able to be at home when she suffered her third and final one), and I spent a large part of my time there with her just talking and visiting.

Grandma lived a long, rich life and had 3 wonderful sons, one of which is my step-father and I am grateful every day for the happiness that he brings my mom, and to my own life. She was married to my grandfather for 63 years, which is something that I won't be able to say when I am her age. She was a fiesty woman with a great sense of humor, and I remember her in her stocking hat and her construction-orange down jacket riding down the sledding hill at our cabin and laughing outloud the entire way. She always stocked ice-cream sandwiches for us kids and made the best cole-slaw and fudge in the family. She introduced me to how a can of smoked oysters can be as great an appetizer as any and how refreshing crisp radishes, kept in icy cold water, can be on a hot summer afternoon. Since she is my step-father's mother, she could be considered my step-grandmother...but grandma was my grandma for as long as I can remember and she will always be...because sometimes the relationships we build, those we spend time in, put effort into, and make memories with...are thicker than the bonds of a marriage between two families...sometimes they turn two people who are not related, into two people who love each other just the same as if they were.

After the initial shock of hearing this sad news begin to wear off, I knew that I wanted to incorporate rosemary into my dinner on Saturday evening. This was my way of expressing to myself that I would remember both grandma, and Aunt Mae, always. I turned, once again, to both food and friendship, for comfort. I spent the day with a special friend, browsing the Farmer's Market and embracing the life that always seems to radiate from there, and grateful for the presence of a friendship with someone who gives so freely of herself even though our friendship is still fairly new. We made a special trip to the fish market and picked up some Oregon Black Cod, and once home, I turned to a recipe inspired by Nigella Lawson's fabulous book, How to Eat.

Black Cod with Orange Zest, Rosemary and Garlic
This is hardly a recipe, but it was tasty, and it allowed me to raise a culinary salute and, had I had it available, a glass of good white wine, to both my grandma and my aunt.


2 fillets of black cod (about 3 oz. each)
one orange
1 clove of garlic
1 tbsp. fresh rosemary
olive oil
salt and pepper, if desired
white wine or dry vermouth

Mince the clove of garlic and zest the orange. Finely chop about a tablespoon of rosemary and add these ingredients to a frying pan. Put a little oil in the pan; not too much, because you don't want it to be greasy, but enough that the other ingredients will be able to infuse the oil. Mix them together, turn on the heat to medium (or medium high for most stoves probably - ours is a bit off), and let it come up to temperature until the spices begin to sizzle. Pat dry two fillets of black cod, salt and pepper them if you'd like, then lay them in the pan (skin side down if there's skin). Cook about 4-5 minutes per side until the fish flakes, but is still meltingly tender and juicy. When finished, put the fillets onto a warmed plate and keep covered until ready to plate. To the pan, add about 1/2 cup of white wine or dry vermouth, and let it bubble, evaporate slightly and get syrupy (about 5-6 minutes). When finished, pour this "sauce" over the fish, along with all of the scraped up brown bits from the pan.

I served this with grilled strawberry tomatoes (a little olive oil, salt, and pepper is plenty seasoning for these babies) and crusty pieces of multigrain bread from a local bakery. For dessert? Shauna's incredible Plum crumble, an amazing dessert from an incredibly positive and radiant woman, who just by the sheer energy she exudes on her site, always makes me feel better.

Soothing the Savage Beast

It's no secret that LB and I are always running out of money, especially at the end of the month (we only get paid on the 1st). We're grad students, we have debt up to our ears, we aren't allowed to be "gainfully employed" aside from our meager stipends (but thank goodness we at least get stipends!), but we do get by. Now, with the up-and-coming wedding, the big move to Hawaii looming in the background, and new student fees that I didn't used to have to pay for, we've had to confine our spending even more.

The most important thing that I've realized with this new spending stringency is that it's incredibly difficult for me to be on a food budget!! And it makes me Grumpy. Up until now, I've gone to the grocery store, bought a few things I needed/wanted for the recipes I had been recently inspired by (within reason, of course, with only the occasional luxury thrown in), enjoyed my strolls at the farmer's market picking out unique produce and whatever struck my fancy, and just made my sacrifices by way of no beer or spendy activities, or sometimes yummy food, at the end of the month. Thus, my pantry, once stocked and full so that almost any recipe I found could be made mostly from ingredients already available in my kitchen, has become more and more bare as time goes on. We've even begun to barter our larder and the blackberries in our backyard for fresh vegetables from other peoples gardens. Basically, this means that I will most likely starve to death in Hawaii due to the cost of food and everything else or LB will divorce me because I will be so Grumpy (and/or bald).

So when I went grocery shopping recently, I had a set myself a strict budget this time. I picked my food carefully, only taking the organic choice if I was totally grossed out my eating the conventional (ie. milk), carefully not purchasing the larger cuts of meat or anything extra, and trying to choose veggies that would either go far or could be used in a variety of cuisines. I still overspent! Granted, I had to buy things we were out of and had been out of for the last week or so (end of the month) like toilet paper (don't worry, we stole a roll from the roommate!), butter, milk, dog food (don't worry, we still fed the dogs!), flour, etc. And yet, I still went over my budget, forcing me to realize that there would not be a shopping trip the following week and we would have to get by on what we had and stretch it as far as possible.

For some, this happily forces you to be creative. For me, this is occasionally the case and can be quite enjoyable. However, when I am craving some kind of particular food and cannot have it...out comes the Grumpy Beast inside. She can be mean and nasty. She doesn't want you in the kitchen with her. She might growl at you if she doesn't like what you have to say about what she's come up with. Worse, if she doesn't like it, she might refuse to eat it and return to her lair to sulk, leaving you feeling helpless and alone and wondering where the Nice, Happy Cooking Girl you used to know went. This is doubled if she's stressed out about something else too (huh, LB?).

One particular weekend morning, my cravings for "real" food were especially bad...I woke up craving cooking, and craving something delicious for breakfast and NOT what we had been having all week. I went out into the kitchen with a dire need to start cooking to quell my inner Grumpy Beast. And I already knew we didn't have much left...no cereal, no milk, only a single egg. I could feel the Grumpy Beast inside me begin to rise up from the depths...

I scoured the cupboards, the drawers, the fridge, and the recipe books. By this time, I was growing frantic, as the Beast was already crawling its way out. LB poked his head into the kitchen and, although my memory is a bit foggy of the interaction, I either bit his head off and stamped on his body or growled at him and laughed as he scampered away terrified. After almost tearing the kitchen apart, I finally found a recipe that began to appease the Beast: Brown Sugar and Toasted Hazelnut Scones. I tore into cooking it like a woman gone mad. I yanked out bowls and spatulas, flour and sugar, sieves and cinnamon. I grabbed the last egg, and decided we didn't need to have half and half for our coffee for the rest of the week. I mixed and stirred, kneaded and patted and finally got the scones in the oven. By the end of it, I could feel the savage Grumpy Beast begin to relax its hold on me.

I poured a cup of tea, and took a first bite of the scones, and the Beast receded. Ahhh...no more cheap, packaged food. No choosing a single vegetable, excluding others from a dish that desperately needs more than one, just to make them last. No need to make a meat dish meatless. No compromises on taste; just rich, luxurious food, full of flavor and not missing a thing. And so, until the next paycheck, or the next meal at least, the Grumpy Beast rested.

These scones aren’t low fat, but they have a light and airy texture instead of being heavy and dense. The hazelnut and brown sugar topping lends a nice crunch on top and added sweetness.

Brown Sugar and Toasted Hazelnut Scones.
Adapted from The Big Book of Breakfast, by Maryana Vollstedt
Makes 8 Scones.

Scones:
2 cup all-purpose flour
1 tbsp. baking powder
3 tbsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
6 tbsp. cold butter, cut into small pieces
1 large egg
1/2 cup half and half

Topping:
3 tbsp. packed brown sugar
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
a dash of nutmeg
3 tbsp. toasted hazelnuts, chopped

Preheat oven to 425oF. Sift together the flour, baking powder, sugar and salt. Add the cold butter and cut it into the flour mixture until it resembles coarse crumbs. This can be done using 2 knives, a pastry cutter, or a food processor. In a separate bowl, whisk the half and half and egg together. Add the egg mixture to the flour/butter mixture and stir with a fork until just moistened.

Gather the dough into a ball and put on a lightly floured surface. Knead a few times, then pat into an 8” round, being careful not to work the dough too much. Cut into 8 triangular pieces, then place 2” apart on an un-greased baking sheet. Sprinkle with the topping, pressing it down slightly onto the surface of the scones. (Hazelnuts can be toasted whole in a 350oF oven until toasted. Skins can be removed by placing all of the nuts into a clean kitchen towel and rubbing gently between your hands before chopping.)

Bake 12-15 minutes or until golden.

****
I've been off on a much-needed trip home until this past Sunday. I will try to post more often as I'm planning on getting back in the kitchen in the very near future. Thank you all for coming by even though I've been mysteriously absent! I hope you've had a wonderful week and are all doing splendidly and cooking up a storm with all the late-Summer produce and Fall just around the corner.

The Simple Joys of Summer

For us, Summer consists of mostly simple meals. Fresh produce, prepared to bring out its true flavors, with only minimal cooking involved. Fresh herbs and spices abound, and meat, most oftentimes grilled, takes on more of a supporting role than being the center of the dishes on our plates.

Chicken palliards, or chicken breasts that have been pounded to a mere 1/4"- 1/2" thick (a great stress reliever!) and flavored with a sprinkling of a myriad of spices and a bit of extra virgin olive oil, has become a favorite of mine. Best about them is that they can act as a perfect canvas for whatever cuisine you're craving. So in a reversal of my usual way of thinking, I've been deciding on my side dishes first - whatever vegetables looked most beautiful and full of flavor, or that needed to be used up, lest their delicious natural sugars begin turning into starch or they not be caught at the peak of their flavor.

This particular evening, I wanted to use up sweet, succulent summer corn. There's a vendor at the Farmer's Market who brings huge piles of corn in on the back of his truck every week when it's in season. It usually disappears by noon, so if I can get there early enough, I always stop there first. We decided on a Mexican theme for dinner to go with the corn, pounded and grilled our chicken (I left the chicken and the spice mix up to LB this time, so I don't know what he put in it), and I took that delicious corn, placed it on a baking sheet and roasted it, husks and all, for half an hour in the oven at 350 F.

Now, I love corn on the cob. But for some reason, I love corn even more when it doesn't get stuck in my teeth and require me have to floss them; so I always cook it on the cob, and then cut it off - it just tastes better that way! Once the corn was cool enough to handle, I husked it (corn cooked this way is easily de-husked because the silk and husks dry out), cut the sweet kernals off, added just a touch of butter, about 1/2 tsp of chili powder, salt and pepper, the juice from half a lime, and about a 1/2 tsp. of zest as well...so I guess you could call it Chili-Lime Corn. I had seen various renditions of it from various places...this was just mine. It was excellent, and the corn flavor still shone brightly through and went perfectly with the chicken, and the fresh heirloom tomatoes draped over it (drizzled with just a touch of olive oil). You could even add a bit of chopped cilantro to the mix, although I only garnished with it. Ahhh...the simple joys of summer food!

Dear Friends,

If you have been coming by lately, you've have probably noticed that I haven't posted much in the last several weeks. Thank you to those who have sent emails and hugs (thanks Nerissa!) my way. Rest assured that I'm okay! Life is just busy, full of changes, and has recently thrown me several "ups" and several "downs." All of this combined has left me little time for cooking, even less time for cooking creatively, and has also somewhat zapped my inspiration for writing and keeping up on my blog.

But that's beginning to change. As Life has started to slightly settle down, I've been cooking more, spending more time in my kitchen, and even found a few recipes that I want to share with you. Bear with me if it's a slow beginning, as this last month has been a difficult one for me, but do check back soon, and hopefully there will be lots of recipes, food and anecdotes to come.

Thank you, my friends: for stopping by, for caring, and for your patience.
"See" you soon!

Best,
Michelle

I hate Martha.

I have a love-hate relationship with Martha Stewart. Her magazines and her website are filled with beautiful things and truly delicious and gorgeous food. Although I could never (would never?) aspire to be Martha, with all her perfection and knowledge about the 'right' way to clean a windowsill, collect glass jelly jars, when to plant your hyacinths, or make a gigantic centerpiece just in case some random friend drops by, I do envy the food that her food editors come up with every month. And I also envy the way they somehow "discover" a person having a party in a beautiful barn, old dock, family cabin, or other perfect setting for each story. Oh, and that person just happens to collect antique farm tools, boats, tea sets, etc. Yeah, like normal people living in small or perhaps, say, rental homes have gorgeous places where they can have 14 of their gorgeous friends over to eat their gorgeous food that was prepared and displayed, gorgeously, by Martha's food editors.

I do admit, though, that I've started to buy her magazine. And every month, the food makes me drool. Some of it is easy. Some of it is not so easy. And some of it looks easy, but leaves you wanting to yank your hair out and throw it at the old girl herself! Take this cake for example. Some of you may remember this post: I wanted to decorate a cake. I liked Meyer lemons and seeing a recipe for "Meyer Lemon Cake," I wanted to make a cake from them. I thought, sure, a cake takes an hour or two to make. I can spare that! I didn't know it would take 10 hours to make all the parts of the cake and another 10 just to put it together. Or how about how they make their pretty little sugared lemon leaves look so perfect (which I, consequently, had to steal from my boss's lemon tree - shhhh - because they are impossible to find unless you know someone with a tree!). Sure, the cake tasted good, but I should have learned my lesson.

Oh, but I didn't. When I saw a recipe for gooseberry tarts, I stepped right up to the plate...er, tart pan. Oh! I just found gooseberries at the Farmer's Market! Hi ho Hi ho, it's off to work on a Martha recipe I go! Don't let me fool you either. I did actually browse through the recipe, seeing what I needed to buy, about how much cooking it would take. I think I just may have missed a few lines....

First, I had to purchase myself a few tart pans. At $1.95/each, this was affordable...but even though the recipe called for 8, I only bought 4. Four tart pans with removeable bottoms are plenty tart pans enough for a woman of my meager cooking abilities, so I just halved the recipe.

Then, I had de-stem the gooseberries. Here's where I started realizing I had made a mistake in choosing this recipe. Have you ever de-stemmed a gooseberry? The little buggers have a "stem" of sorts on both the top and the bottom. This 40 minute excursion equaled only a little tiny line in the ingredient list: "gooseberries, destemmed."

Next, make the pastry. Right-O. I can do that. Here, she calls for a pate brisee. You can find a basic recipe here. I made the dough. What I didn't notice (one of those lines I must have missed) is that you have to bake it first. Filled with stuff. Stuff like dried beans, rice, or pie weights. Which I had to scrounge around for. But, I did that too. Oh, I forgot to mention it has to cool in the fridge for an hour before you roll it out, fill it with your weights, and then bake it for 25 minutes.

Finally, you take your pretty little tarts out and then you have to let them cool. Completely.

Uh huh. Then, it's time to make the custard. Here, you mix up your basic custard; this part wasn't so bad. Then you get to mix those de-stemmed gooseberries (just thinking of picking off those stems made some of my hair fall out) with some sugar, put them in the cooled pastry crusts, then pour the custard over the top. Sprinkle a bit more sugar, and in the oven you go, for 30 more minutes.

Take out your little custard tarts when their set, allow them to cool slightly, and then, finally, you can eat your heart out.

So, let me break that down for you:

Running to the cooking store to buy tart pans. Time = 20 minutes;
strands of hair pulled out = 0.

Destemming 1/2 pint of gooseberries. Time = 40 minutes; strands of hair pulled out = 100.

Making the pastry, letting it cool for an hour, weighting the pastry, and baking it. Time = 2 hours; strands of hair pulled out = 200, or somewhere around 2 large handfuls.

Letting your tarts cool. Completely. Time = 1 hour; strands of hair pulled out = 100.

Making the custards, Time = 30 minutes; loss of hair = 50.

Assembling the tarts, and baking them. Time = 35 minutes; strands of hair pulled out = 15.
(+ just thinking of destemming gooseberries = another 100 strands of hair...)

Taking them out, letting them cool and finally getting to eat your deliciously cute little tarts. Time = 15 minutes; strands of hair pulled out = 10, while waiting for them to cool...it's sort of like torture.

Finding out you still have hair left after 12 hours spent on a Martha Stewart recipe you thought would take "a little over an hour:" Priceless.