Fall is upon us, and already I am obsessively roasting everything in sight! But before the real cold (and hopefully, RAINY!!) weather sets in and summer becomes but a distant memory, here are a few random scenes from my life in the last month or two, in no particular order.

Those who know me have heard me complain about my commute more than any of us care to recall. And yep, it's brutal. But it's nice to stop and appreciate the surroundings once I finally get there. I took these photos on a lunchtime walk a few weeks ago. A good reminder to get out, stretch the legs, breathe the air, breathe in the color blue!

I hardly posted any garden photos this year! Our garden was modest and not very prolific, but we did get a handful of nice squash, peppers and tomatoes. This was the very last bounty of cherry tomatoes getting ready to be slow roasted and eventually frozen so we can keep enjoying them in soup, sauces and whatever else suits our fancy for months to come...

The adventures in pie baking have continued, with peach and apple pie. Dorie Greenspan's Baking: From My Home to Yours continues to deliver, delight and inspire.

I used Dorie's recipe for the crust both times. I used the Smitten Kitchen recipe for peach pie for the filling on the one above, and Dorie's apple pie filling on this next one. Both received rave reviews!

Oh, and did I mention? I started my first class this week studying holistic nutrition at Bauman College in Berkeley! I don't expect to stop baking pies any time soon and I can't quite imagine ending my love affair with wine and cheese! But, I'm excited to learn more about the healing powers of food, and how we can all use it to strengthen and sustain ourselves. I'm sure I'll have much more to report on that topic over the next 18 months, so stay tuned, and happy Fall to one and all!

The Pie Years

Confession:  I've never been all that swoony about pie.  It's kind of hard to admit it, cause pie is so all American, so comforting to so many. It's sweet, it's savory, it's breakfast, it's dinner, it's coffee's best friend!  It's the hit of the party, the belle of the ball! Who says no to pie??

I've gotta say I'm pretty sweet on cobbler and crisp and crumble and even galette.  But somehow, I'm that person who doesn't go bonkers for pie.  And maybe that's just as well, because if I'm going to be baking pie all the time, I probably shouldn't be eating it, cause I'd rather save room for butter and bacon and ice cream and wine. And cheese. Usually not all at once but... as middle age encroaches, we've gotta choose our poisons!

And yes, I did just allude to the fact that I'm going to be baking pie all the time. Which is not exactly true.  At least not yet. So far, I've baked 2 (fresh blueberry) pies over the course of 3 weeks.  Which is a lot for me, and more pie than I've baked in years.  And I aim to bake more -  much much more -  until I finally figure out how to untangle the mystery that is pastry dough.  So many recipes!  So many fats to choose from: butter, shortening, oil, lard!  To add a bit of vodka or vinegar, or not?  To cut the fat into the flour by hand, or by pastry cutter, or by food processor?  HOW WILL WE EVER FIND THE TIME TO EXPLORE  ALL THE DIFFERENT PATHS TO GET US TO THE PERFECT PIE??  And why do I even want to explore it, when I don't even really want to eat the stuff?

I guess it comes back to the fact that (almost) EVERYONE LOVES PIE!!  And I love to comfort people with food. And ok, there's a bit of vanity in there too, cause if pie is the hit of the party and you show up with pie, well then I guess you're the hit of the party too! "You" being me, that is. Yes, it's shallow!  Yes, it exposes my insecurities!  But I don't care!  I'm obsessed with pie. It's cheaper than therapy, and if it makes me feel better  to bake it and it makes you feel better to eat it, then everybody wins, right?

But the only way to really get good, or even halfway good at it is to do it.  Again and again and again.  So if you need me, I'll just be over here cutting the fat into the flour, rolling out the dough, dicing the fruit and hoping for the best. 

Cedar Plank Salmon

Sometimes the act of cooking takes me back to being in my element, in my body. Fills me with lightness and nourishment and appreciation.  Brings me back to myself. Tonight was one of those nights.  I have been gone for days and nights on end. A succession of days and nights piled onto one another mostly due to poor planning on my part, offering little to no opportunity to cook and eat healthy.

Besides just being overloaded schedule wise, I've been mourning the loss of my dad, who left this earth and all who loved him on April 29th. That might have something to do with the way my entire being has felt like a ton of bricks that I struggle to drag around.  And there is a lot more I want to say about this, but for now, suffice it to say that grief has been my constant companion, and likely will be for quite some time to come.

In the meantime, life has a way of going on  - and in the midst of the chaos, some of the days and nights have been fun, filled with music and friends and family and sweet memories that I will always cherish.

And, some of it has just been drudgery.  Get up. Drag self to work. Zombie my way through the day.  Drag self to the next place.  Try to be present. Fail. Stagger home, defeated, already exhausted just thinking about the next day and the day after that. Consider therapy. Dream of cooking and eating an amazing meal. Or even just a decent one.

Tonight I finally got to cook that meal.  That amazing meal. Local wild salmon in season, cooked on the cedar plank that had been soaked in white wine. Barley pilaf with grilled portobello mushrooms and eggplant, and radishes with salt and olive oil. It was simple.  It was dynamite. It was therapy. It was everything I dreamed it would be.

It could have been a total disaster, as I'd only once cooked with the cedar plank before, and didn't really know what I was doing.  But some combination of intuition, research and dumb luck conspired to make everything right, and that's exactly how I felt when I ate this meal with my honey in our back yard on a warm summer evening, surrounded by our garden that is growing wildly.  And so I had to stop and give thanks.

                                 

Cedar Plank Salmon

This is more of a guide than a recipe.  Soak your cedar plank in white wine for several hours.

Take a piece of super fresh, wild, in season salmon.  You'll know it's super fresh because it won't smell or taste fishy and it will be vibrant in color. Drizzle it with olive oil, season well with salt and pepper, and drape a few thin slices of lemon across the top. Resist the urge to add more in the way of spices and sauces - if the salmon is super fresh, you won't need or want much more.

Heat your grill to medium heat.  Place the plank with the salmon on it on the top rack, so it is not directly over the heat.  Close the lid and cook for approximately 20-30 minutes.  The wine soaked cedar will steam and smoke and infuse the salmon with a wonderful, light sweetness.  And who among us couldn't use more light sweetness in their lives?  Certainly not me.

Don't flip it or anything.  And don't mess around with it too much.  Just let the steam and smoke and flames do their thing.  We had a piece that was about 1 pound, and it cooked this way for a little over 20 minutes.  And the salmon was perfectly tender and moist inside, and beautifully caramelized and roasted on the outside.

You could be content with only this, or you could do as we did, and grill some portobello mushrooms and eggplant and toss with some cooked barley, and served it all up with diced radishes with salt and olive oil, and call it dinner.  Rest a little easier this night, and be hopeful for a lighter tomorrow.

Winter Turns to Spring

Here we are on the cusp of another season.  I guess officially, it *is* another season, another season since I last posted anything here, to be sure.

Slowly but surely, the days are getting longer. The garden is getting ready to grow good things, even if the skies seem to be confused.  The worms are wriggling around in the compost pile, the flowers are blooming and I'm getting ready - scheming, plotting, dreaming, pulling weeds, turning soil, planting seeds.

Well actually, the seeds haven't been planted yet.  And when they do, they might actually be starts that someone else grew from seeds, but no matter.

Even though the fence is falling down and the whole world is getting pummeled, even though I don't feel like anything is certain these days, I'm certain that one way or another, that garden *is* going to grow.

And just the promise of it is carrying me through.  No photos, no recipes, just the promise of spring.

Citrus Season

Happy 2014, friends!

There is so much I want to share with you, like this beautiful bowl of citrus.  Some of it, from our very own garden!  The lime tree that our friend Phillip Greenlief gave us as a wedding gift has begun to produce fruit.  Not all the limes in the above picture are from our tree, but a few of them are, as are the lemons, glorious meyer lemons!

Citrus is one of the things I love about winter, and in my rare moments of time recently, I've been enjoying creating all manner of citrus-laden treats:  lemon confit, fennel lemon relish, preserved lemons, lime syrup to use in lime spritzers, and citrus salad with tarragon.

The lime syrup and the fennel lemon relish recipes both come from the new Alice Waters book, The Art of Simple Food II.  If the second book is anything like the first, I know that I'll be referring to it often. The fennel lemon relish is simple and refreshing, and bursting with flavor.  And the lime syrup is fabulous mixed with sparkling water, and I'm betting it would also be very good mixed with a little splash of vodka!

Still looking forward to making limoncello, lemon sorbet and lemon cream.  Hopefully I'll be able to find the time before winter turns to spring.

Until next time, wishing you fruitful gardens, bright splashes of sunshine, and big bursts of flavor in every endeavor, culinary and otherwise.

New Normal

Greetings from the land of dog tired, bone tired, crazy all the damn time tired.

Oh and did I mention, I finally got that job I'd so been longing for?  It's a damn good job, working for a company that I feel really, really good about.  A certified B Corp.  Working with and for people who have heart and integrity. In a really lovely environment, with seriously incredible benefits.

But. My new normal is leaving the house before 7 am and often not returning until after 7 pm.  My new normal is 2 buses to get me there, and 2 buses to get me home.  But  how wonderful it is to not be stuck in traffic every day (as a driver, anyway)! And how wonderful it is to have a regular paycheck again, and to no longer have the incredible stress of not having a job!!

But.  Losing my last job was stressful.  Looking for a job and not finding one was stressful.  And, having a job, at least, this one, brings its own kind of stress.  Mainly in that I don't have nearly the time that I used to for having fun in the kitchen.  Which makes me very cranky.  But.  The upside is that the little mister is spending more time in the kitchen, and between us, we are piecing it together.  And that's an unexpected bonus. So at the end of the day, I'm tired and sometimes cranky, but usually I'm still pretty well fed, which is no small achievement. And I'm also trying to see the big picture, to realize that I need to give myself time to adapt, and that everything will likely feel chaotic for awhile, but that it won't be like this forever.  And in the meantime, I'm trying to always remember to breathe.  And enjoying my new friend the crock pot!  Which is very handy for making big pots of black beans, that go perfect with rice and can be eaten all week long.  I made them for the second time today and they were dynamite, so I'll have to post the recipe soon.

For now, my recliner, and then my bed, are beckoning.  Until I next come up for air, happy holidays to you and yours!

Hello, Crockpot! (aka Slow Cooked Pork Shoulder)

I can hardly believe I made it this far in life without my very own slow cooker.  I have nearly every kitchen appliance known to man - some requiring electricity, some simply requiring muscle. From the immersion blender to the ancient salad spinner that I've had since 1990, to my super duper trusty Vitamix blender that blends so utterly mightily.  I've got a rice cooker, a ricer, a pressure cooker, a clay tagine, a food processor, a mini chopper, a mortar & pestle, an electric mixer, an ice cream maker.

But somehow, I never had a slow cooker, until now, that is. And while I wait, and wait, and wait, and wait a little bit more for potential employers to decide they might actually want to hire me, I cook, and bake, and stew, and chop, and slice, and dice.  And slow cook.  In preparation for that job that I'll have any day now, that will take away all this time I have to cook.

So naturally, until the little mister decides to learn how to expand his culinary repertoire, I'm thinking I should make friends with the slow cooker.  Especially now that the cooler weather is coming.  I like the idea of long, slow braises and stews.

The maiden slow cooker voyage: pork shoulder.  Marinated overnight in a nice, herby rub featuring toasted fennel seeds, garlic and rosemary.  Cooked for a good 8 hours on low with apples & onions that later became gravy.  Oh yeah.  Piled over a mound of smashed potatoes, parsnips, leeks and roasted garlic.  Who wouldn't want to come home to this after a long day of working and commuting?  Well, possibly a vegetarian, but I think we are going to have fun coming up with good ideas for them, too.  But in the meantime, should you feel a need for slow cooked pork coming on, I've got just the thing for you.

I based my recipe on this one from the excellent blog Simply Recipes,  but made a few key changes, adding fresh thyme, and herbs de provence, plus a bit of worcestershire sauce and a sprinkling of brown sugar.  And cooking it in the crockpot instead of the oven.  The final product was every bit as divine as they said it would be, holy cow.  Or pig, as it were.

Slow Roasted Pork Shoulder with Savory Apple Gravy
(Adapted slightly from Simply Recipes)


INGREDIENTS

3 pounds boneless pork shoulder, sinew and excess fat (beyond 1/4 inch) trimmed
1 1/2 teaspoons fennel seeds, toasted
1 teaspoons black peppercorns
1 1/2 teaspoons herbs de provence
2 Tbsp fresh rosemary leaves, lightly chopped
2 medium garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoons Kosher salt, plus more for seasoning
Olive oil
2 medium good cooking apples, such as Fuji or Jonagold (I used granny smith)
1 medium yellow onion
Few sprigs thyme
1/2 cup red wine (can sub water)
Few splashes worcestershire sauce
About 1-2 T. brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Freshly ground black pepper


1 Put the fennel seeds, peppercorns, herbs de provence and rosemary leaves, garlic and salt into a spice grinder or coffee grinder and grind to a paste. Alternatively, you can pound the mixture with a mortar and pestle. Put the mixture into a bowl and stir in 1 T. olive oil.

2 Rub the mixture evenly all over the pork shoulder. If the roast is tied, untie it to rub the inside with the rub mixture as well, then retie it. Wrap the roast tightly in plastic wrap to hold the rub against the skin and marinate overnight (or up to two days).

3 Peel, halve, and core the apples. Cut each apple half into about 4 wedges. Peel the onions. Cut in half from tip to root. Trim the root and tip. Cut the onion into thin wedges. Put the onions and the apples together in a bowl and toss to mix.

4 Toss the apples and onions with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and season with a little salt and pepper. Place the apples and onions in the bottom of the crock pot.  Scatter the thyme sprigs on top.

5 Brown the pork in a dutch oven over medium high heat, for about 5 minutes on each side.  If you want, you can deglaze the pot with a few splashes of wine.

6 Place the browned pork shoulder on top of the apples and onions in the slow cooker, add the wine and the deglazed bits from the pan, plus a few splashes of worcestershire sauce and a light sprinkling of brown sugar.  Cook on low for roughly 8 hours, until the pork shoulder is falling apart tender and pulls apart easily when probed with a fork.  Then switch the setting to warm and let it sit for another couple of hours.  You won't believe how amazing your house smells.

7 Transfer the pork shoulder to a serving plate and cover with foil to keep warm. Put the apples and onions into a blender. Add about 1/4 cup water and the mustard and purée. Check the texture, and add water until you get the desired thickness for the gravy. Press through a sieve for a silky smooth textured gravy. Check the seasoning and correct to taste.  Serve over a mound of mashed potatoes & parsnips.

Good Things Grow

Howdy and Happy Summer!

Wow, that last post was depressing.  But sometimes, that's just where we find ourselves.  Lately I've been finding myself putting on my fancy interviewing dress, and what some might consider a respectable pair of shoes.  And possibly, by the time I'm hired for my next fabulous job, I might have finally figured out how to comfortably walk in said shoes!  I don't know how you ladies out there walk in heels on a regular basis.  I'm way more comfortable in my dusty cowboy boots, but sometimes we have to push ourselves to embrace that place outside of our comfort zone.  And that's where I've been hanging out lately.

I'm happy to say that I've also been hanging out on the hiking trail with my trusted four legged pal Stella, and I've been spending a lot more time in the kitchen, too.  Oh, the things I have baked and fried and frozen, sautéed and chopped and diced and sprinkled with herbs and drizzled with olive oil!  Chocolate ice cream from scratch, roasted eggplant, triple ginger cookies, macaroni and cheese, lemon confit, roasted chicken, organic peach sorbet and all kinds of grilled things, thanks to our new-to-us gas grill that I found on Craigslist for $25!  Like many of us, it just needed a TLC to sparkle and shine.

I've also been spending more time in the garden, sweet garden. Our garden this year is humble but mighty.  We've been enjoying some of the best tomatoes we've ever grown, and chives and chard and lettuces and zucchini, always zucchini!  You cannot escape the zucchini!!

It occurred to me recently that the job search is not unlike the planting of a garden.  You plant your seeds, show up, pay attention, water, pull weeds and do the best you can with what you've got.  There are some forces you can't control, like the elements.  And some forces you might only narrowly be able to control, like critters.  But chances are good that if you're doing your best and paying attention and feeding the soil, good things will grow.  And when I've found myself feeling overwhelmed or discouraged with the job search, I've found it comforting to think of each resume and cover letter as a seed that I am planting in good faith. Who knows what will sprout out of it?  Maybe a new amazing adventure, possibly nothing at all.  But you just keep planting, and showing up, and paying attention, and doing the best you can with what you've got to work with, and just like in the garden, good things are bound to grow.  That feels like a good way to look at things right about now.

Life, Death and Unexpected Gifts

Life sure keeps on being interesting.  The seasons pass.  The garden grows.  The days grow longer, and then shorter.  The squash keep growing no matter what else is happening.  Couldn't stop those squash from growing if you tried.  It's a welcome diversion from death, job loss and general uncertainty.

But yeah, I lost my dear friend Scott, and I lost my job.  And I got rear-ended 3 times in a little over a month. I care way more about the friend than the job or the car, but there's been a lot of uncertainty, more than I even have words for.  Death has a way of shaking you up, of bringing everything into focus, of showing you what matters, and also showing you that no matter what you may think you know, you really don't know anything about anything.  Except that life is short, and that you should always attempt to spend it celebrating the people you love, who are right here, right now.  And that you should never assume you'll have another chance to celebrate that love while the ones you love are still alive.  Because they could be gone in an instant, and so could you.

Death also brings some unexpected gifts, like being able to spend countless hours with the family of the dear friend who has passed, and to get to know them in a new way.  And getting to spend time meeting so many people who were deeply touched by the friend who has gone, hearing their stories, laughing with them, crying with them.  I'm honored that I've been able to help Scott's family, to meet more of his friends, and to celebrate his life.  I'm happy that I was able to share some of my life with him, especially recently.  And if I hadn't lost my job, I wouldn't have had nearly as much time to be present for all of this, so I'm mindful that there are unexpected gifts in all kinds of places.  And thankful for every one of them.

If you asked for my advice, I would tell you this:  Go call that friend or family member that you've been meaning to check in with. Tell them you love them, bring them soup or a flower, or send them a card if you are far away.  If you can see them in person, hold their hand if they are hurting.  Tell them that they are perfect just the way that they are.  Laugh with them, and do it right now.  Because now is really all we have.

Gardening Happens When You're Making Other Plans

Well hello there, strangers.  Do I begin every entry that way these days?

There is so much I've wanted to tell you about.  Like, it's May 27th and already, we're enjoying squash and basil from our garden, and lemon zest from the very first lemon from the tree we planted when we moved in here nearly three years ago.  Triumphant.  Worthy of celebration.  You plant things and do your best, and hope and have faith, and show up at least most of the time to water and pull weeds.  And  sometimes you get fruits from your labors.  And vegetables.

(Imagine a lovely photo of a perfectly tender heirloom squash, vibrant basil, and plump lemon inserted here)

Especially in the case of zucchini, it's easy to feel like you know what you are doing, as if you might possibly have some inkling of control.  Pop the starters into a sunny spot in the ground, give it a bit of potting soil, water most of the time, and before you know it, boom.  If you aren't careful, you have giant squash the size of baseball bats threatening to take over your life.  Yes, even you, who thought you didn't know squat about gardening.

Did you remember to stop & give thanks for the fact that at least something something grows, something thrives and refuses to be held back despite all the things that life throws at us? Despite the latest war, or the fact that every time you turn around, it seems someone dear to you is ill, or dying, or dead, trying to recover or just hanging on by a thread?

Well these days, I am.  I am thankful for the squash, and the lemons, and the chard that is not completely healthy, yet not completely withered either.  And the basil, potent and strong.  And the flowers on the tomato and pepper plants, bringing hope for brighter, warmer times to come. Bringing hope for new life in the face of loss.

Family Dinner

Tonight's post was inspired by the awesome, talented & inspiring Shauna at Gluten Free Girl, who recently encouraged people to share their experiences about family dinner.  Shauna & Danny, her partner in life, love and the kitchen, are celebrating the release of a new cookbook that I cannot wait to get my hands on.  I've been reading Shauna's words for years, swooning over her stories and recipes, always in awe of the way she manages to cut straight to the core of my heart, no matter what kind of tale she is telling.  I'm not gluten free but the recipes she and Danny create are recipes that sing to me.  These two know food, and love food, and love sharing their creations, and that inspires me greatly on so many levels.

So as it turned out, tonight, we had dinner with a few dear friends.  Spontaneous.  Throw some stuff on the grill.  Bring what ya got and we'll combine it with what we've got, and dinner will be born.  And it was lovely and a feast beyond delicious.  Grilled asparagus with roasted red peppers marinated in balsamic vinegar and olive oil.  Grilled fish & sausages, and two kinds of salads.  One was a slaw with red cabbage, parsley, pickled jalapeños & cider vinegar that I make a lot in the summertime.  Spicy, salty, crunchy, and the perfect accompaniment to anything grilled.  And then, since I had all the ingredients, I made this Barefoot Contessa recipe for celery hearts marinated in an anchovy & lemon vinaigrette, topped with shaved parmesan & fresh parsley.  And whoa and wow!!  It pretty much made everyone stop & re-think everything we may have ever thought about celery as the star of the show.  Or rather, it made everyone think that celery actually *can* be the star of the show. I'm pretty sure I'll be making this salad every chance I get.  It was that good.

But, I kind of digress.  We were talking about family dinner.  My family always had them, and I guess I took them for granted.  And same with the little mister.  Whether you showed up on time or not, in both of our families, family dinner happened.   And it was expected that you would be there and participate, whether that meant helping prep the food, or setting the table, or clearing the table, or just talking about your day.  Even though we ate a lot of delicious and comforting foods at our table, it wasn't so much about what was being served, as about being together at the table.  The showing up at the table was a consistent part of both of our upbringings, and it's a tradition that we have carried into our respective adulthoods and our life together.  And although our family consists of just the two of us and our dogs, we are lucky to have a wide circle of wonderful friends who frequently join us for spontaneous gatherings, showing up with with a little something or other to combine with our little something or other, and together we make our feast.

Tonight was one of those spontaneous dinner nights.  We all sat around the table discussing our upbringings and our experiences of family dinners, and I learned that both the mister and I are very lucky indeed that we had parents who showed up at all, parents who cared enough to feed us and talk to us and wanted to know about our days. I think I always took it for granted that this was just what people did. I know now that every family is different, and I feel lucky for the one that I was born into, that I am still fortunate to be a part of, even though we are scattered all over the place these days.  When we do come together, gathering around the table is still a huge part of our experience, and I am so, so grateful for that.  And when I can't be with the family that I was born into, I feel lucky for the wonderful friends that have become family in their own way.

So three cheers for family dinner, whatever family means to you, and whatever your dinner is like. And three cheers for the new Gluten Free Girl cookbook, which I can hardly wait to dig into!

Testing, 1...2...3...

...is this thing on?

Wait, hang on.  I've got to wipe off the dust.  And the cobwebs.  Yep, it's been awhile. It's been a good, long, while.  A long dark winter.  They say it's officially spring now, but I've barely peeked my head out from under the covers to see if it's true.

There's so much I've wanted to show up here & share with you, like citrus salad with olive oil, feta, tarragon & shallots.  A bright and juicy, salty & sweet addition to brighten up any drab winter day.

And a cold winter trip to Toronto, where, among other things, I got to eat at Momofuku, when I wasn't busy trying to get my nose hairs to unthaw.

And then suddenly it wasn't quite winter anymore, and I found myself driving through the southwest on a solo journey, wearing sundresses & flip flops, stopping at every thrift store along the way, and breathing in the solitude, sunshine, and dust.  Breathing it all in deeply.  Cause sometimes we get so caught up in the white noise of the every day, we forget to breathe at all.  That's about what I've been doing for the last many months.  Holding my breath.

But this kind of scenery, and time with cherished family & friends helped me to remember to breathe out, and then in again.  And so on.  And so here I am coming up for air, with tales untold, waving hello from an imperfect world.  

The Taste of Home

It only took me 43 and a half years, but I finally did it.  I made the family recipe for sauce & meatballs.  The same recipe that my Dad has been making for as long as I can remember, and my Grandma before him.  How did it take me so long?

It's something I've been meaning to do - in fact, truthfully it was on my list of resolutions for this year under foods I wanted to make.  I am never very big on New Year's resolutions, unless food is involved.  And after watching Dad & my brother-in-law Terry make the sauce last Christmas & taking notes, I filed them away & waited.  And waited.  Waited for the right time.  Maybe I'd do it when the little mister was out of town so he could avoid the meat-fest.  But it didn't quite work out that way.

Just before Thanksgiving, we decided to have a post-Thanksgiving potluck, and I decided it was time to make the sauce.  The mister also made one of his family recipes for fried cardoons.  The kitchen was splattered with oil from the floor to the ceiling.  We spent the better part of a day frying things and simmering sauce.  Huge messes were made, and then cleaned up, and then made again as friends showed up.  Parmesan cheese was grated.  Plates were filled.  The table was loaded up with post-Thanksgiving remnants from other people's feasts, like pie, stuffing, fresh crab, green beans, brussels sprouts.  Bottles of wine arrived and were subsequently passed around and emptied.  Nothing formal, in fact we ate on layers of flimsy paper plates. I barely remembered to take any photos.  But that was ok.  The most important thing to me was that the house was full of friends and I finally was able to recreate the taste of home, the scent of the kitchen I grew up in.  There are few dishes that can summon that experience for me, in fact I can't really think of another one. This dish that I have somehow always taken for granted as being a part of our family fabric, has somehow also remained elusive, something that other people in the family made, but not me.  I don't know why that has been the case in the past, but I'm happy it will not be the case any longer.  Cause I made it, and it was awesome!

So thanks, Dad, and Grandma, and everyone who came before who made the recipe, and the experience of enjoying it, what it is.

Dum Dums for Dumb Dumbs

Dum Dums for Dumb Dumbs

Holy Hell! Fall is here and Halloween is just around the corner.  As in, tomorrow! And you know what that means - fat season is here too!  The gluttony always starts with the little mister's birthday in early October, and it kind of doesn't stop until we wake up in a bloated, sugar free and sober stupor on January 1st, cursing all that sugar and flour and boozy, carb-y good/badness!

Last year, we tried to do just a *little* something to head it off.  We tried to keep from eating all that damn Halloween candy.  And so stupidly, I realize now, we - meaning - I - bought suckers.  Not Blow Pops, not Tootsie Pops, no.  Just, Dum Dums.  I figured, it's candy, right?  It's free candy, what's not to like, you ungrateful little rascals?!  No really.  I seriously just thought that maybe if we bought something we didn't like, then we wouldn't eat it.  And I had no idea that Dum Dum suckers were SO SO LAME.  But, yeah, turns out, Dum Dums are lame.  And even if all 3 kids who showed up last year hadn't said so, all my friends verified:  Dum Dum suckers are LAME.  How did I not know this?  I really just thought that free candy = good candy, but not all candy is created equal.  And if I didn't know it before, I know it now.  When your 40-something friends chastise your idiocy in buying a candy as lame as a plain old SUCKER, well then, you might need to admit that maybe you really are the biggest sucker.  When your friends tell you that you MIGHT AS WELL PASS OUT RAISINS, it kind of makes you just shrivel.  Even if secretly, you really um, sort of like raisins.

Is there a moral to the story?  I don't know - but I guess this year we - and by we I mean I - will be buying something like Butterfingers or Snickers or Godiva Bon Bons or something.  And the little mister and I will just suck it up and try not to eat all 27 of the 30 pieces that don't get eaten by those non-sucker lovers.  Or maybe we'll just pass out 10 candies to each of the 3 trick-or-treaters!  Only time will tell!

Pickle Mania

Lately I've been making a lot of quick refrigerator pickles. So much so, that puckery pickly goodness is the flavor of the month around here.  It's a darn good flavor.  I bet it might still be the flavor of the month next month, even if it will have to share space with stuff like roasted squash, savory stews, and all things baked.  There will still be room in my heart and in my kitchen for puckery, pickly goodness, because A):  it's delicious, and B):  it's versatile.  The pic you see below is what I threw together in about thirty minutes last week, and the results of said thirty minutes are still delivering the goods.

On the left we have yellow beets, followed by carrots and then cauliflower.  All three batches use a simple apple cider vinegar brine, with various seasonings.  My favorite seasoning is dill seed with crushed red pepper and a few cloves of garlic, as featured in the carrot jar.  But I am also fond of a combination of crushed coriander and cumin seeds, which work particularly well with the cauliflower.

I'm super keen on having these around to snack on - particularly as we get our end of the summer blasts of heat here in the bay area, it's been great to have something cold, salty & crunchy to snack on.  But I've also been loving dicing these little guys up and adding them to salads to add a dimension of crunch and bold flavor - they really pack a punch!

One of my favorite warm weather lunches centers around a bed of mixed greens, topped with a salad that varies - last week it was quinoa, kale from the garden, pickled carrots & red onions.

Today it was a bed of arugula & apples, topped with quinoa, pickled carrots, roasted carnival squash, walnuts, feta & croutons.  Summer meets fall in perfect harmony, I tell you.

Anyway - we're pretty lucky here in the bay area that we can get great produce all year 'round, so I expect the pickling craze to continue.  The basic recipe is below, and the pickles last easily for a month or so, except they never do, cause we always go through them before that.  Use the recipe as a starting point, and go wild according to what you have on hand, and what you feel like creating!

Oh - and giving credit where credit is due:  I came up with the ratios in this recipe based on looking at this one, and this one.  Ultimately I decided I don't like much sweetness at all in my pickles, so I consider the sugar to be optional.  And of course you can just go in all sorts of directions with the spices!  Have fun.  Happy crunching, happy puckering, happy end of summer, happy almost fall!

Quick Refrigerator Pickled Veggies

1 cup apple cider vinegar
1 cup water
1 T. kosher salt
Sugar - optional - I tend to use about 1 T. but you could use more if you like your pickles sweeter
1 T. spices - dill seed, crushed coriander or cumin, or whatever you fancy
Pinch of crushed red pepper
1 to 3 cloves garlic
Slice of lemon
Bay leaves
1 bunch carrots, or about half a head of cauliflower, or several beets sliced thin,  or a medium onion sliced thin, or whatever other vegetable you fancy, cleaned & diced, enough to fit into a 1 quart mason jar.

Pour the vinegar, water, salt, sugar (if using) &  spices into a pot & bring to a boil while you clean & trim your veggies.  Pack the veggies into a jar along with the bay leaf, lemon & garlic.  Once the brine has come to a boil, pour it over the veggies.  Make sure all the veggies are immersed in the brine.  Screw the lid onto the jar and leave at room temperature until cool.  Then refrigerate.  Pickles will be ready anywhere from 1 to 3 days to a week later, depending on how darn pickly you like them.  Even if you start nibbling at them in a few days, the ones you didn't get to yet will keep getting better over time.  Spread the pickles on a plate for an appetizer or snack, or dice them up and add to salads.  Enjoy now, enjoy later, and enjoy often!

Lentils with Roasted Tomatoes & Goat Cheese

Ah, what a wonderful long weekend it's been.  Of course, I haven't achieved a fraction of what I'd hoped to, but I got a little bit done around the house, and did a lot of good eating.  And the weekend's not over yet, so there's still hope!

I'm trying my hand at furniture refinishing, and having quite a lot of fun with spray paint, safety goggles and sand paper.  It's still a work in progress, but if all goes well, I might even post some pics.

Still, a day doesn't feel quite complete if I don't get to stop and spend at least a little bit of time in the kitchen.  And yesterday's adventure with lentils was SO DAMN GOOD that I just had to stop & share.  This recipe, modified a bit, is another winner from Yotam Ottolenghi's Plenty.  I've tried several recipes from that book now and have liked them all (even though several of them are a bit too labor intensive for me), but this one might be my favorite.  I especially like this because I cook lentils a lot.  They're a staple in my pantry and in my diet, and yet, it's not often that I feel SUPER EXCITED about the ways in which I use them!  Although I do have a few stand out recipes, it's often hit-or-miss.  That reminds me that my friend Sabine suggested that I compile my favorite lentil recipes, and I may just have to do that soon!

Onward to the recipe. The original recipe calls for using gorgonzola instead of goat cheese, but everyone who ate this thought the goat cheese worked beautifully.  It also calls for Castelluccio lentils, which I've never even seen around here, so I used french green lentils. Instead of adding some diced raw garlic to the final mix, I cooked the lentils with a couple of cloves of garlic, which I then removed and diced fine and added to the salad, for a more subtle flavor.  And lastly, Yotam's recipe uses a combination of herbs including parsley, chives and dill, but I just used what I had in the house, which was parsley, tarragon and basil.  I think you could almost always improvise with your choice of herbs.  Take this dish to your next barbecue or potluck and it's guaranteed to be a hit!  I think I'm going to make it again very soon.

Lentils with Roasted Tomatoes & Goat Cheese - adapted from Yotam Ottolenghii's Plenty

Oven-roasted tomatoes
5 plum tomatoes, or whatever tomatoes you like - I used a combination of cherry tomatoes from our garden, sliced in half, and beefsteak tomatoes, cut into slices.
8 thyme sprigs
Splash of olive oil
Splash of balsamic vinegar
Salt

1 small red onion, sliced thin
1 T. red wine vinegar
1 t. kosher salt, or if you're feeling fancy, you could use smoked Maldon sea salt, like I did
1 1/3 c. french green lentils
2 small cloves garlic, peeled & lightly smashed
3 T. olive oil
Fresh ground black pepper
3 - 4 T. fresh herbs - I used parsley, basil and tarragon
3 - 4 T. soft goat cheese

To roast the tomatoes, preheat the oven or toaster oven to 275.  Depending on the size of your tomatoes, dice or halve or quarter them, and place them skin side down on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.  Don't worry if you've got larger tomatoes cut into slices and find it hard to place them skin side down, it'll still work out just fine.  Drizzle lightly with the olive oil and a splash of balsamic vinegar, and sprinkle with salt.  Place the thyme sprigs on top, and put into the oven to let it work its magic for roughly 1 1/2 hours.  Check after 1 hour, as I found mine were nicely roasted already by that point, and the additional half hour wasn't needed.  Take out of the oven and set aside.

Meanwhile, place the red onion slices in a medium bowl, pour over the red wine vinegar and sprinkle with the salt and toss.  Let the onions marinate while you move onto the lentils.

Bring a pot of water to boil (enough water to amply cover the lentils - 3 to 4 cups should be good), and add the lentils, the garlic and a bit of salt.  Lower head and simmer until tender but still a bit firm, about 20 - 25 minutes. Drain well, and remove the garlic and dice it fine.  Add it to the bowl of onions.

While the lentils are still warm, add them to the bowl of onions & garlic, and also add the olive oil, fresh ground pepper, and herbs.  Stir gently and taste, adjusting seasonings if necessary.

To serve, spread a layer of lentils onto a platter, and scatter some of the tomatoes over, along with dollops of the goat cheese.  Add another layer of lentils and do the same thing until all the lentils and tomatoes and goat cheese are happily scattered over the platter.  If there are any juices left in the pan from the tomatoes, drizzle over the top, and then be prepared for the entire platter to disappear very, very quickly!

On the Dressing of Salads

For a person who eats, on average, about one or more salads per day, nearly every day, you would think that the perfect dressing would not be so elusive.   But somehow, it is one of those things that I've found baffling and have been unable to pull together on instinct - until recently, that is.

I don't even know how I stumbled across this simple combination, but I think it may have started with escarole.  I've been using that as my main salad green lately.  It's extremely sturdy, and a bit bitter, and just not something I've used a lot in salads, until recently when I had such great success using it as a base for a seared tuna salad.   Ever since then, I've been buying it every week and eating salad after salad after salad using it as a base.  Usually, I've been mixing it with a bit of arugula, and dressing simply with a squeeze of lemon, a liberal sprinkling of salt, and enough extra virgin olive oil to coat the leaves after giving everything a thorough toss.   Turns out that's a pretty good formula to dress any kind of salad, and I've been enjoying some variation of it practically daily.

Today, I shoved any notion of vegetarianism aside, and had lunch at Phil's Sliders.  It was an awesome indulgence featuring the highest quality ingredients, including Marin Sun Farms Grass Fed Beef, and I savored every bite.

But then, I knew it had to be salad for dinner.  And damn, what a salad it was.  Tonight's salad was the kind of salad that I make quite a lot, but I fancied it up a bit by adding some kale from the garden to the mix of escarole & arugula, plus shaved carrots, fennel & red onions.  Topped it off with roasted kabocha squash, toasted pecans & chives dressed in Green Goddess dressing, and grated parmesan.  The perfect antidote to lunch.

The basic recipe follows, but in honor of my dear Dad's birthday, which is today, I wanted to mention that I've always envied how Dad can just dress a salad in the bowl.  He uses the classic combo of red wine vinegar and olive oil, which I love. And when we get together for any kind of family gathering, sometimes he tries to be humble and allow someone else to dress the salad. But I for one can never pull it off as well as he does, and I don't know if anyone else can either. When I try to dress the salad in the bowl, occasionally it works perfectly, and other times I find myself making so many adjustments that the greens become a soggy mess.  I have no idea why my using lemon juice instead lately of vinegar is showing better results, but I'm just going with it.

So, the points of the day are as follows:

1.  Happy Birthday, Dad!  I wish I could have made dinner for you tonight!

2.  If you're going to have burgers for lunch, it's good to have salad for dinner.

3.   Sometimes winging it with salad dressing works beautifully, and it's also great to have a couple in your arsenal to draw from when you don't feel like winging it.  I have at least one in this case, and it's a proven winner, good enough to slather over all sorts of things!

4.  If you're looking for a sturdy salad for your lunch or dinner, maybe you'll want to add this one to your arsenal.  And if you do, I hope you'll love it!

Kale, Escarole and Arugula Salad with Roasted Kabocha Squash

This is more of a guide than a recipe.  I was flying solo tonight so I just portioned out enough greens that looked like a good amount for my dinner:  a handful each of torn kale and escarole, a smaller handful of arugula, and a sprinkling of thinly sliced red onion, fennel and shaved carrot.  Put it all in a bowl and set aside to chill in the fridge.

Meanwhile, I pre-heated the oven to 400 degrees and cut a small kabocha squash in half & scooped out the seeds, and cut into slices about 1 inch thick.  Sprinkled with salt, tossed with olive oil, and into the oven it went, to roast for about 10 minutes before turning over and then roasting for another couple of minutes.   It's good to roast till it's nicely tender but not mushy.  The rind on kabocha is completely edible and quite delicious, but if this doesn't appeal to you, feel free to cut it off before cutting the kabocha into cubes.

Next up:  put the cubed squash into a bowl, and add whatever makes you happy.  Tonight I used what I had in the house which was kalamata & nicoise olives, diced tiny, and fresh chives, and toasted pecans.  All of that would have been a reason enough for feeling content!  But, I had just made a batch of the Green Goddess dressing, so I added a couple of plops, and grated parmesan all over it.  And suddenly my night got a whole lot better!

Next, it was time to dress the greens, hoping to be graced with a bit of Dad's mojo.  And it worked - a squeeze of lemon, a sprinkling of salt, and a nice coating of olive oil.  Onto the plate went the greens and their friends.  And then the squash salad was mixed in, and a few Semi-Freddi's Super Garlic Croutons were added, and life was pretty much complete.  Dad, the only thing that could have made it better would have been if you and I could have shared this together!

Happy Birthday Dad, and happy salad dressing to one and all!

Costco and Wine, What's Not to Love?

Too bad I discovered this *after* my last trip to Costco.  Before the next trip, I'll be sure to stop off in cyberspace at the Costco Wine Blog to get some tips.  The blog is 100% independent and full of great tips.

Check it out.  Happy swilling!

Sometimes Pie becomes Something Else

Let them eat pie!

That's the plan for tomorrow night, anyway.  Loretta Lynch has turned ten.  And we're launching ourselves into the next ten years with two sets of music and a whole crapload of pie.

And it was me who had the *brilliant* idea to bake the pies from scratch,  ha!  What the heck was I thinking?  I guess I was thinking that I wanted to spend more time learning about the art of pastry.  But I woke up this morning thinking that I wanted to learn more about the art of sleeping, the art of blowing off all responsibility after weeks, months of super tight scheduling, running from this to that to the other thing and then back again.  Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Meanwhile, the new dog, much as we love her, has had some terrible digestive issues lately that has her, and me, waking up multiple times per night, every night.  How in the heck you parents of little ones do it is beyond me!

Anyway.  I woke up today at 9, after waking up at 4:30 and 7, after having gone to bed at 1.  I was ragged and crusty.  I couldn't comprehend the thought of pie from scratch. So I turned to a few different cookbooks.  I remembered an interesting looking recipe for strawberry rhubarb pie from the Bi-Rite Market cookbook.  I opened it up & casually thumbed through it, and randomly landed on the page for Seared Saffron Albacore Tuna with Fennel-Olive Tapenade.  And I decided right then & there that I needed to make it.  It kind of became my obsession for the day.

And so I bought some perfectly nicely packaged pre-made pies for tomorrow's show, along with some local albacore tuna, escarole, olives, fennel, and local heirloom peppers.   And I came home and got to cooking fiercely and with so much joy after weeks of running, lathering, rinsing, repeating.  And then I made the recipe from the Bi-Rite cookbook, verbatim, and it was completely and utterly stellar, tender, juicy, perfectly rare fish with salty earthy tapenade and sturdy, lemony greens.  It was a home run.  I was so afraid I'd ruin the fish but I didn't.  Dang.  I feel like more of a rock star than if I'd actually made ten pies.  It was off the charts.  And I really can't take a lick of credit beyond opening that cookbook and getting struck with the fire, the passion, the mission to make this dish and the wherewithal to see it through until the end.   Although, the salad on the side consisted of tomatoes fresh from our garden and those heirloom peppers that I'd roasted, so I guess I'll take a teensy bit of credit for that.

Anyway, every bite was was dynamite. Sometimes the quest for pie leads to something else altogether. I like it when that happens.

The Beet Goes On

Ah, what a feeling.  After several months of being way too overbooked, I finally, finally had a Sunday with absolutely nothing on the books but cooking my heart out.

The last couple of months have been overflowing with all sorts of activity - visits to see family & friends that took me to places like Baltimore and Canton and Yucca Valley, and a camping trip to a beautiful site about three miles from Yosemite, and a one year wedding celebration with the mister in Mendocino, where we enjoyed another lovely stay at the Andiron Inn.  All told, there was much lovely scenery, and cherished time with cherished people, sandwiched in between lots of music and work.

I've loved every moment of seeing my family and friends, near and far, but, there hasn't been much time left over to do the basic things, like... laundry and pulling weeds and just generally trying to keep the house clean and maintain some semblance of order and balance.  I've never been good at balance.  And today I wasn't either, but damn did it feel good to spend the better part of nine hours cooking my heart out.

Mostly I washed greens for salad and plucked and washed and dried basil and parsley and dill.  It takes awhile to do all that, but once washed & dried & stored in paper towels or cloth, it all keeps for quite some time and I love having fresh herbs at the ready.  I made pesto with some of the basil, and used all the herbs to make herb butter.  I made a quinoa salad with roasted corn, fennel, dried cherries, olives and dill.  I toasted a bunch of walnuts that I will use to top the salad with tomorrow when I eat it for lunch.  And then, I made this beet salad.

The recipe was posted recently in the NYT, and was created by David Tanis.  It was a lot of work, I must say.  Roasting the beets and then peeling them, prepping the mint and dill, roasting and then grinding coriander and cumin seeds, making both a vinaigrette and a yogurt sauce, cleaning the greens. 

But damn, it was so good.  And so beautiful to look at.  

Making it, and then eating it, was the perfect ending to the perfect day.   The house is still a wreck and the weeds are still growing like weeds will do, but the fridge is fully stocked and the house smells good, and for now, that's good enough for me!