Sempre Girasole

Noodle Bowl

2012-01-04T21:20:00.003-05:00

Tonight it happened that I had the perfect dinner for one. I should know, I eat alone all the time and almost always enjoy it. But there was something just so singular about tonight's meal that I found myself thinking as I ate it, I want to eat this every time I eat by myself.

Tonight I made a noodle bowl. Bowl meals in general lend themselves to the cooking/eating-for-one genre. There is something cozy about a bowl. You can hold it with one hand, taking in warmth as you eat. Bowls are round and comforting. And a noodle bowl? Well, there's something exciting about getting such a variety of goodness all in one place. Noodle bowls, as their name suggests, have noodles in them. But then they have just about anything else you have on hand in them too. I was spurred on to make one tonight while looking at David Chang's wonderful cookbook Momofuku. His signature noodle bowl, Momofuku Ramen, is full of pork belly, pork shoulder, nori, scallions, fish cake, bamboo shoots, veggies, a poached egg and of course, noodles. All topped with a rich chicken/pork broth. Now, though that sounds delicious, for the average eat-alone, quick meal in, that also sounds like a lot of work.

I was aiming for something a little more...thrown together. But still delicious. What I was craving was noodles. Skinny noodles. I was craving them in broth. I was craving them with a crispy poached egg on top. What? Those of you who know me know that I rarely eat eggs. But every once in awhile I get a craving and tonight I was craving an egg I read about in Bon Appetit magazine's r.s.v.p. section and made once before. The idea is, you poach an egg. You cool the egg in an ice water bath. You roll the egg in egg whites. Then roll it in a mixture of panko, salt, pepper and crushed red pepper. And fry it in a little olive oil. The result is a soft little pillow of egg with a thin protective coating of crisp. Great little texture play going on. (If you don't make a noodle bowl, at least make yourself this egg and eat it over some wilted greens with a little soy sauce).

Anyway, I cooked some thin spaghetti and made the egg. I quick-pickled some carrots, using an extremely speedy method I read about in Momofuku--simply coat the thin slices with a mixture of salt and sugar and let sit for 10 minutes (it really works). I happened to have a little broth leftover from making Pho over the weekend, so I heat it up. This all went into a bowl, along with some cilantro and chopped green onions. That's it. So simple, and yet so much. So many things went into that bowl, and I swear it only took about 20 minutes to throw together. And the point is, you can do it your way. If you have a can of chicken broth in your cupboard, use that, and put the extra in your fridge for another use. I'm sure the quick-pickles would be even better with cucumber or radish, but I just went with what was on hand. Add some soy sauce or Sriracha. The point is to build flavor with what you have. And then eat it all by yourself.

Kitchen Rituals

2012-01-01T14:06:00.005-05:00

In his book, The Heart of the Artichoke, David Tanis has a section of "recipes" at the beginning called "Kitchen Rituals". Each is a moment with food that would be experienced in the kitchen, alone. They range from the simple--peeling an apple--to the more complex--making chorizo. While many of us may not undertake the making of chorizo (or tripe, another of his rituals), the point is that we all have our own. We each have our little things we do when we eat alone. Though eating is traditionally a communal activity--and I love the way food and drink bring people together--sometimes food means the most in that quiet moment when eaten by yourself.

Today is New Year's Day, and though I will be eating traditional New Year's foods like hoppin' john and pork with family later today, I also needed to celebrate alone. This was my kitchen ritual, the first of 2012:

Bread dipped into olive oil w/ salt, crushed red pepper and sumac; hard Greek feta; castelvetrano olives; glass of red

Welcome to 2012, here's to a lot of good eating!

P.S.-For more on eating alone, I highly recommend Jenni Ferrari-Adler's Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant: Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone

Summer Tomato

2011-09-22T13:39:00.003-04:00

When the cold weather hits and stays, the only way I'll crave tomatoes is from a jar. I'll pull out a mason of the puree I canned and use it with wine for a nice slow beef braise. Or a chili. Or a long-simmered sauce. If I'm tempted to buy tomatoes at the grocery, I'll roast them till the sugars caramelize.

But right now, we're still in summer tomato season, and there are endless ways to enjoy these beauties. My biggest craving this year was for gazpacho. Mixing tomatoes with cucumbers, peppers, and acid seems like the only appropriate meal on a 90-degree summer afternoon. I added chopped raw fennel to mine this year, and the sharp-yet-subtle anise flavor sung through.

Those who love a ripe, red tomato may scoff at my next act, but I start to crave green tomatoes before the red end product even enters my mind. I love their sour crispness. Done right, a fried green tomato will retain part of this crisp texture while softening slightly, enough for the juices to flow throughout the slice. I fry my tomatoes in cornmeal, and have begun adding some uncooked grits to the mixture for extra crunch.

When my mom gifted me with beautiful lavender fairy-tale eggplant this summer, a fried green tomato seemed the perfect counterpoint to the soft, almost mushy grilled rounds. Topped with a sweet, red tomato jam, the combination was divine.

And of course, there is also a time to enjoy a tomato in its pure essence, sliced, with little adornment. After a long morning this past Saturday, I wanted a quick, leisurely lunch. A plate with kalamata olives, ricotta salata, and sliced heirloom tomato, all drizzled with garlic-coriander olive oil is a lunch you never want to end.

New riff on something great

2011-07-22T16:24:00.005-04:00

So many people are a fan of kale chips these days, and I am certainly one of them. I first read about them in the February 2009 issue of bon appetit magazine, and instantly wanted to try them. I fell quickly for these crisp green leaves. Baking the kale slowly at a low heat with olive oil, salt, and pepper condenses the brisk, vegetal flavor.

But friends, I am here to tell you--do not limit the making of these chips to kale. Today, I made them with beet greens, and the results were superb. They have the same great crispness as the kale, and though more delicate (a little less mineral, and you can taste the beet), still bring ballsy flavor.

The best thing about making chips with beet greens is that you're probably not going to use the greens otherwise. Kale, sure, you'll saute it or throw it in a fritatta. But beet greens? Not so much. To begin, if you buy any beets other than the classic red--say golden--the greens don't taste good. But in chip form they do. Truly! Plus, different kinds of beets have different colored tops, so you get fun, multi-colored chips.

So, jump on the head-to-hoof bandwagon, only in veggie form. Buy beets from a farmer with the tops still on and crisp up those greens!

Squash Interpretations

2011-07-14T08:13:00.004-04:00

There's a saying, "You eat with your eyes," that I think is really true. Food tastes better to us when it looks beautiful. I don't mean pretty. Chef David Tanis talks in one of his cookbooks about pretty food versus beautiful food. Pretty food is when you go to a restaurant and everything has been piled on top of each other to fit neatly in a perfect square on the plate and then the plate--not the food, but the plate--is drizzled with balsamic reduction. Lovely, pretty, but not beautiful.

Beautiful food is when the elements of the food are allowed to shine. Scattering something with a few pomegranate seeds seems luxurious, but it is also real; pomegranates

are a natural, edible jewel. Cooking a while fish, as I recently did for the first time, is beautiful. The presentation is simultaneously simple and special.

Color in food amazes me. Take, for instance, these two interpretations of patty pan squash. I had a yellow patty pan, a food that is naturally a bright, vibrant yellow. Thrilling that something like amaranth microgreens exist with their shocking burgundy threads. A salad of the two is a surprise and a great way to "eat with your eyes".

But take the same squash. Slice into thin slivers and arrange, overlapping on a plate, as if the squash is fanning itself out. Marry with pieces of basil, a lemon-Siracha-oliv

e oil dressing. Yellow and green is a more classic color combination, but the dressing brings a pink-orange note that glides across the white squash flesh. This is fresh food that is as good as it can possibly taste, but then made even better through its beauty.

American Pie

2011-07-04T17:54:00.004-04:00

Happy 4th of July! To me, 4th of July has always been about having a brunch picnic with my family and watching fireworks. This year, neither of those are happening (though last night I saw fireworks go off here and there). So, what does 4th of July mean when the traditions are taken away? I think it's all about remembering things that make America America. Not the principles and ideas like liberty and capitalism, but the real tangibles, the fun(ny) things like cookouts and cut-off jean shorts, and those little embroidered aprons worn by 50s housewives.

And as they say, what's more American than apple pie?...maybe a cherry pie with star crust! Here's to celebrating in style!

Simple Pleasures

2011-06-23T08:13:00.005-04:00

Food doesn't have to be fancy. In fact, it usually shouldn't be. Mint leaves, white peaches, chioggia beets, Tuscan kale, a hunk of parmigiano--these things are all beautiful on their own and need no adornment.

And sometimes, foods come upon us as a surprise. There is a place on my street where I happened to see two tiny red gems peeking up through the foliage--wild strawberries. Every so often, I will check back and gather a couple more. On Monday, I was thrilled to discover several berries, wet with dew, and I picked all of them. There is delight in holding a handful of these wild red orbs.

And sometimes the delight comes from resurrecting food from a dismal state past its prime. I had a hunk of home-baked bread that was old and had been left out over night. Was was once relatively soft and porous turned into a rock-hard heel. It was too large to crush into breadcrumbs, too hard to cut for croutons. But I developed a trick. Last night, I put the bread in a bag with a touch of milk and let it soak overnight. This morning, I was rewarded with something soft and edible. I soaked the entire piece further in milk and egg and made a hunk of french toast. And these three simple things when fried in oil become sublime.

Spring Eating

2011-06-15T08:31:00.002-04:00

Just a few pictures to get back in the swing of posting...baby bok choy with peanut noodles...a vase full of mint...herbs de Provence goat cheese with raspberries and pears...A spring lunch: culzeroni with butternut squash and microgreens, flatbread, and Campari spritzers...a chicken, peach, goat cheese pizza with balsamic reduction drizzle...black cherry almond crostata

I am so happy to be eating this fresh, warm-weather food!

'Tis a gift to be simple

2011-02-19T08:37:00.003-05:00

Often, simplicity is best. Sometimes it's easier to enjoy food when you savor the food itself, pure flavors, unadorned. Think of the sweet corn of summer, simply boiled on is cob, buttered and salted. Or a sharp farmhouse cheddar, cutting off buttery shards with a knife. These are foods that want nothing more. They have no need of preparation. These are the foods that remind us why we love food. The best food can be delicious without the best chef.

Simple foods are a different kind of comfort food. They do not fall into the category of beef braised for hours in a stew or rich, gooey macaroni and cheese. They comfort--not because they are hearty, but because they are real. They need little, if any, preparation--the original fast food. We are comforted because we can eat well the moment we are hungry, without agonizing over recipes.

I ate this way last night. I recently acquired a beautiful bottle of Greek olive oil, pressed exclusively from kalamata olives. It is a bright, vibrant green, the exact green you would hope for to celebrate spring and new life. It is silky. And grassy. Perhaps you have read about olive oils before, and there are these strange descriptors, the way wine is spicy or jammy. Olive oil is nuanced in a similar way, and people say it is fruity or herbal. Or grassy. The second I opened the bottle and tasted my oil, I knew. I knew I was tasting a grassy one. It was fresh and alive. And I wanted to eat that pure flavor, un-muddied and true. So I made a vinaigrette. I smashed a garlic clove in my mortar with a little sea salt, making a satiny paste. Poured in my olive oil. Whisked in a little cider vinegar. Chopped up some romaine. Dressed the lettuce. Accompanied by a beautiful chunk of pecorino, a simple food in its own right.

And another thing about simple food--it loves to be presented simply too. And that somehow makes it all the more beautiful.

Homemade.

2011-02-09T11:06:00.004-05:00

It is so satisfying to eat food that comes straight from my own hands, to be completely connected to what I'm consuming. Because so often, we don't know. Today's sandwich came pretty darn close, save the basil leaves scattered on top, which I really have no business eating in the winter, anyway. But sometimes we make little exceptions. But the rest? Pure goodness.

The base is Irish soda bread that I baked last night. I've started baking bread regularly, and I have a basic rustic loaf that I bake a couple times a week. When you can't find the time to let your dough rise, however, Irish soda bread is a good go-to-loaf. I like mine with currants and caraway seeds.

Next, I slathered on some good, homemade ricotta cheese. I discovered around Christmas time that it is so easy to make your own ricotta, and have been making it ever since. The texture is divine, and the taste is clean. It tastes exactly like what it's made of--milk. I have used my ricotta to make ravioli, a dessert across between a cheesecake and souffle, and ricotta fritters--little balls of fried, crisp, gooey goodness. And ricotta is great on sandwiches, especially as a foil to stronger flavors, as in today's interpretation...

Chili pepper chutney. At the end of the summer, I bought up a bunch of chilies and cooked them into a spicy-sweet mass with onions, balsamic vinegar, and brown sugar. The chutney is very spicy, so it's a perfect match for ricotta, which helps tame the heat and bring out the flavor.

It's a lunch to feel good about.

How to use up that open bottle of wine

2011-01-19T16:58:00.005-05:00

Walking into my kitchen last Wednesday morning, you might have thought me a fool. You would have found me, standing in front of a hot oven, eyes closed, as the passionte voice of a tenor singing opera filled the air. I would have seemed lost. Anything but. In fact, I was smelling heaven. See, I made these:

Biscotti al vino. Wine cookies. Flour, sugar, olive oil, white wine, a little fennel seed and lemon peel. Basta. Now that I have made them, I can't think of anything more miraculous.

It began as I was reading Marlena di Blasi's wonderful A Thousand Days in Venice, in which she falls in love with a "blueberry-eyed" Venetian, and marries him. The book is as much a meditation on life as it is on love, and in Italy, life means food. And so, page after page contains the simplest mentions of some meal, each one restrained yet tempting. And I am easily seduced by the power of suggestion. So when Marlena goes to the bakery and buys biscotti al vino, "cookies made with white wine, olive oil, fennel seed, and orange peel," I want some too.

I began searching for recipes, finding them mostly in Italian. The ingredent list is short, however, and easy enough to understand. (None of the recipes I found called for the fennel and orange flavorings, but as she was eating her cookies in Venice, I figured that's authentic enough. I substituted lemon for orange.) The method seemed intuitive. So I began, mixing flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and fennel seed. To it, I added olive oil, white wine, and lemon peel, bringing the dough (which is almost like a bread dough) together. I let it sit. I shaped the dough into little doughnuts, dusted them with sugar, then into the oven. After awhile, I could really begin to smell them, which is where you would have found me, reveling in the luxurious combination of aromas. Let me just say, that if you ever would like someone to fall in love with you, put a tray of these in the oven before he arrives.

And they taste pretty darn amazing too. The wine offers a subtle, je ne sais quoi kind of flavor. Or, to quote one of the Italian bloggers I discovered in my search for a recipe, they are, "facile, facile, ma buona, buona" (easy, easy, but good, good). And I'm thrilled to find a baked good I can make without butter or eggs.

I have made these cookies twice in the span of one week. The first time I made them, the recipe I developed yielded good results, but the dough was hard to work with, so I tweaked it a little and was satisfied the second time around. So, here is my recipe for biscotti al vino:

Put 1 1/2 c flour, 1/4 c sugar, 1 tsp. baking powder, 1 1/2 tsp. fennel seeds, and a pinch of salt in a bowl. Use a whisk to mix. Pour in 1/4 c olive oil and 1/3 c white wine. Grate over the zest of half a lemon. Use a wooden spoon to begin incorporating ingredients, then use your hands to knead into a smooth dough. Let rest, covered with a dishcloth, for 15 minutes and preheat oven to 360 degrees.

Pour 1 T sugar on a plate. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Take a walnut-sized piece of dough and roll into a snake. Join the ends, making a little doughnut-shaped cookie. Dip the top in sugar and put on the baking sheet. Continue. Will make around 12 cookies.

Bake in preheated oven for 15-25 minutes--depending on what you want the texture of the cookie to be. Shorter time will give a softer cookie, but it will not color. Longer time will slightly brown the cookies and yield a crunchy cookie.

Mangia!

PS-Haven't tried it yet, but I hear you can make these with red wine too. Might change the other flavorings, like clove instead of fennel.

Homage to the turnip

2010-11-24T15:38:00.005-05:00

Turnips are a humble vegetable. They get little notice, seem to be an afterthought thrown into pot roasts. I grew up eating them only on St. Patrick's Day, boiled up with the corned beef and cabbage. Turnips even look humble, their purple skins make them appear to be blushing, coloring the otherwise perfect white flesh.

It's time turnips get their due. They are sweet. Throwing turnips in a pot roast adds an unmistakable sweetness to the broth. And unlike onions, which also sweeten during cooking, turnips are perfectly sweet and delightful raw. I first discovered this when I made this salad, which has since become a personal staple, being a favorite of mine as well as my roomate. Raw, turnips give a lovely crunch, more so than that of an apple. And turnips have a slight fire to them. A little heat to contrast the sweetness, a subtle spiciness.

And so, seeing a large basket of turnips for sale at the farmers' market last week for only $2.50, I couldn't pass it up. $2.50. Talk about a deal. That's like 10 cents a turnip. They were giving them away.

But what's a girl to do with all those turnips? They'll keep for awhile in the fridge, but aren't as hearty as a squash. So, I decided to pickle some. Maybe you've never heard of a pickled turnip. I haven't. But, I thought, what's the harm? $2.50 isn't much to pay for an experiment.

So I peeled about half my turnips down to their beautiful white flesh, cut them into chunks, and threw 'em in a pot. Added some vinegar and water to cover and to season, added: peppercorns, fresh ginger, star anise, crushed red pepper, sugar, and salt. I brought it all to a boil and let the turnips cook, but not get too soft. Then put it all in jars. I also packed some sliced garlic in with the turnips as I jarred them. Kind of an asian vibe going on.

And the result? Nice. It's exciting to bite into something pure white, but get all these spicy flavors melding together on top of that underbelly of sweetness. My pantry is a little happier with these babies around

Pickled turnips, canned tomatoes (both diced and crushed), chili pepper chutney

Late-Night Mexican

2010-10-30T20:44:00.003-04:00

Alright, so it's not even late. But when I'm home alone on a Saturday night, there's something that's bound to happen--snack concocting. And my kind of snack often starts with a drink. I was recently given a cocktail book, with everything from classics (a Manhattan) to "pitcher drinks" (Bloody Marys and rum punch). And then in-between there are handy little chapters organized by type of spirit. I have tons of tequila, but all I ever know what to do with it is make a margarita--wonderful, but maybe not on a cool autumn evening. So I turned to the book and found a sueno. Still has the lime of a margarita, but a little rosemary for warmth. To make:

Muddle a few slices of cucumber and some rosemary leaves in a cocktail shaker with 3/4 oz. lime juice and a pinch of sugar. Add 2 oz. tequila and ice. Shake. Strain into highball glass with ice. Pour over 1 oz. tonic water. Garnish with rosemary sprig.

Once the drink was made, I couldn't just leave it at that. I had some tomatillos that I got from my farm share today, so I chopped them into a simple salsa with onion, chili, sea salt and lime. Simple. And perfect for a little alone time.

After School Snack

2010-10-12T16:56:00.004-04:00

I'm not great at packing lunches. It annoys me. I don't want to spend my precious morning time figuring out what I'm going to eat in five hours. Mostly, I just bring leftovers, and try to pack them up the night before.

Due to my dislike of lunch packing, I never end up packing a big lunch. And so I'm always hungry when I get home around 3:00.

But then I'm presented with another problem, which is that I never have much snack food around the place. It's for the best, but sometimes I want to eat something quickly, which means I have to make something quickly.

Now, sometimes I know exactly where I get food ideas. Just reading the mention of some food in a book makes me in the mood for it. But today I was in the mood for fried shrimp, and I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe it was the nearly empty can of coconut milk in my fridge, begging for a use. In any case, I decided to give it a go.

There are certain foods that just scream "restaurant food," and I'd say fried shrimp is one of them. I've never had fried shrimp at someone's house, but it is the ubiquitous seafood appetizer on countless menus. I don't think of myself as a restaurant food cook, but it happened today. A bit of snooping around at epicurious.com, and I developed a passable fried shrimp with ingredients I had on hand. And quickly, too. Nice.

Here's the batter I used:

3 T flour

2 tsp. cornstarch

1/2 tsp. brown sugar

pinch of salt

1/2 tsp. red Thai curry paste

3 T beer (you can drink the rest!)

Put first four ingredients in a bowl and use a whisk to combine. Measure out the beer and whisk in red curry paste. Whisk beer into dry ingredients to form a batter. Small quantities, but enough batter to coat nine shrimp, which was a good serving for one.

Heat oil in a wok to almost point of smoking, then turn down heat to medium-low.

Dredge shrimp in cornstarch, dip in batter, and fry a few at a time, for about two minutes, until golden brown.

Serve shrimp with a sauce made with coconut milk, a little lime, a little cardamom, a little chili, and little salt, a little sugar.

Quick. Easy. Delicious.

Convert.

2010-09-30T20:53:00.005-04:00

The thought of breakfast burritos has never appealed to me. I know people love them, but I just always thought I wasn't that kind of girl.

But then last weekend I had a big party. I made a lot of salsa for the party. And, well, leftovers.

So I had all this salsa sitting my fridge, begging for a use. And somehow, it just hit to me. I had some beautiful farmers' market eggs. I love making tortillas.

So. It happened. Hot peppers sauteed. Eggs scrambled. Tortillas rolled. Tortillas cooked. Burritos assembled.

The creaminess of the eggs. The sharpness of the salsa. The softness of the tortilla.

Definitely a convert.

Sometimes food is just beautiful...

2010-09-30T20:34:00.004-04:00

And that's all you can say about it.

Tonight:

Roasting beets for soup.

Gorgeous heirloom tomatoes...

That become my dinner. Arugula, tomato, and blue cheese salad.

Gorgeous world, huh?

Indian in a Flash

2010-09-22T09:26:00.003-04:00

I had an exciting cooking experience last night when I decided to make bread from the fascinating Mangoes and Curry Leaves: Culinary Travels Through the Great Subcontinent cookbook, which is just as much a scrapbook of Indian (and Sri Lankan, and and Nepali, etc.) life and culture as it is a collection of recipes. I highly recommend it.

In my experience, naan (which I've blogged about before) is the bread of India, ubiquitous on the menus at Indian restuarants in the States. And rightfully so, for it is delicious. But, as with all cultures, Indian food is greatly limited for us. It adapts to the culture it's in. Furthermore, the food of any one culture is so vast (and with strange, unavailable ingredients), that it would be difficult to get a comprehensive experience of all the culinary palate has to offer.

When looking at this cookbook, I was surprised and excited to find a whole chapter on breads, and knew I needed to try some. Last night was the perfect opportunity. I was planning a meal of many small vegetable dishes, and figured I should have bread it go with it. So after prepping my raw turnip-chili salad, grilled eggplant, and green beans with garlic and arugula pesto, I went about making the bread.

I chose something that looked simple, and my choice--a Bengali-style bread called luchis--were just that. Few ingredients and little prep, but an amazing result. Luchis are a fried flatbread, though despite the fact that they are fried, are not at all oily (the cookbook authors made this claim, and it was true). There is no leavening agent in the bread, but they puff up in the oil, little bubbles of air developing miraculously. Luchis are at the same time crisp and chewy, with a subtle sweetness to them (for this reason, I think they would be great sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar). Paired with a chutney of some sort, I think luchis would be the perfect snack to serve with drinks, and I can't wait to make them again. Here's how:

You'll need:

1 1/4 c. flour

1/2 tsp. salt

1 1/2 tsp. vegetable oil (ghee would be a more traditional choice, but I would imagine most of us don't have any on hand!)

1/2 c. lukewarm water

oil for frying (peanut was recommended, I used vegetable)

*note: these are the quantities I used. The recipe in the book was double this--but I was only cooking for two! This made around 8 breads.

Procedure:

Measure flour and salt into a bowl. Whisk to combine. Add the oil (or ghee) and mix in with your hand or a spoon. When well-mixed, add the water, a little at the time, mixing to make a dough. Kneed a few minutes until smooth.

Let the dough rest, wrapped in a dishcloth. This can be for anywhere between 30 minutes to 2 hours, whichever is more convenient. I let mine rest for two hours.

Break off a golf-ball sized piece of dough. On a floured surface, roll out into a flat circle, of about a four-inch diameter. Continue with the rest of the dough, keeping the prepared rounds covered under a dishcloth.

To cook, heat oil until almost smoking. I find that recipes that call for frying like this always say to use 2 inches of oil, which I think is just excessive. I heated my oil in a wok, and used about 1 inch at most. Put dough rounds in one at a time. They cook so fast, that this is not at all inconvenient (if using a large pan, you could do 2 or 3). When dropped in the oil, the dough will sink and then rise, and immediately begin to brown. Turn over to brown both sides evenly. Put cooked luchis on a paper towel-lined plate. Enjoy!

Frying the luchis

A beautiful plate of luchis

Garbage Disposal Chowder

2010-09-18T19:41:00.002-04:00

I had some old corn. Corn on the cob, some of it already cooked, some of it not. I've been meaning to make chowder with it for a week now, but I just got around to it tonight.

So I decided to throw in my refrigerator. Ok, maybe that's an exaggeration. But I did get rid of some things. A small piece of red onion. A wilted leek. Celery about to turn brown. Sauteed that with some garlic and an old jalapeno for a ghetto-southwestern mirepoix. Added corn, cut off the cob. Added a potato, diced small. Some water. Some salt. A bay leaf. The tops of a daikon radish. Boil. Simmer. Puree. Splash of milk. Grinding of pepper. Eat.

This is enjoyable food for an alone night. Easy and quick to make. Simple food, but all the flavors working together to create something comforting. The earthy flavors of the potato and bay. The spice of the jalapeno. The bright freshness of the corn.

So, next time you're eating alone, just throw your refrigerator in the pot.

Developing Dessert

2010-09-10T13:47:00.006-04:00

Well, here we go--my first post from my new kitchen! I have to say, it's taken awhile for me to feel comfortable cooking somewhere else. Of course, the kitchen at my parents' is much nicer than the one I have now, but that was also the kitchen where I developed my rhythm. I've been in my new place for about three weeks, and I still don't feel completely at ease, but don't worry--that hasn't kept me from cooking! Here are a few random pictures of things I've created in the new place:

A perfect lunch--baugette, goat cheese, honey, walnuts, and tarragon

Spaghetti cooked with swiss chard and fresh tomato sauce

Miniature red peppers stuffed with sauteed corn

The real reason of the update, however, is to talk about a dessert I made last night. I'm not a huge dessert person. I like dessert fine enough, though I don't eat it that often, and I certainly don't cook it that often. But I was watching an episode of Master Chef (something else completely out of character for me), and one of the challenges was to make a dessert. So I guess that got me thinking. It was pretty interesting how these amateur, yet talented, chefs were freaking out when they found out they had to make a dessert. But it makes sense. Dessert is an entirely different ball game. Dessert is measuring quantities and getting your dough, custard, or pastry to have just the right consistency. There's less room for improv in dessert. BUT--there is some room for improv. How did dessert recipes come to exist in the first place? Someone got an idea, tried it, tasted it, and wrote it down (if it worked!).

Well last night, that someone was me.

I'de been having a hankering for fried doughnuts. There's a recipe for them in this Mexican cookbook that I like to make, doughnuts flavored with anise and sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. But I moved, so I don't have that cookbook anymore. Well, I thought, I will just make my own. I was feeling inspired from the show, I wanted to do something great, so I thought about it a little, and went for it.

It started with me thinking about the anise. I didn;t have any anise, and I do have fennel seed, but that wasn't quite the flavor I wanted. So my mind wandered to cardamom. Yes. I've made sugar cookies with cardamom before, and they were delicious. When I think of cardamom, I think of India, and when I think of India, I think of tea. A great lover of tea, I sometimes try to incorporate it into my cooking, and this seemed a good opportunity to try. I decided I would make a syrup with the tea to put over the doughnuts, and when I was getting my ingredients out, I spied some dried apricots, so those became part of the syrup as well. So here you go, my recipe for Cardamom-Spiked Doughnuts with Ceylon-Apricot Sauce:

For the doughnuts:

1 c. flour

1/2 tsp. salt (maybe a little less)

1/4 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp. crushed cardamom

1 tsp. baking powder

3 T. butter, melted and slightly cooled

1/2 c. milk (I used condensed milk because that was all I had)

2 T. honey

For the sauce:

2/3 c. of strong brewed Ceylon tea (or other black tea)

1/3 c. sugar

4-5 dried apricots, sliced

Mix first five ingredients in a bowl, using a whisk to make sure they are well incorporated. In another bowl, use a whisk to incorporate milk and honey. Whisk well! Add milk/honey and melted butter to the flour mixture. Stir to make a sticky but firm dough. Will look something like this:

Put the dough in the refriderator to chill for about 15 minutes. While this is happening, you can make the sauce. In a small saucepan, mix tea and sugar. Bring to a boil and boil for about 5 minutes. Turn down the heat, add the apricots, and simmer until a syrup-like consistency is acheived.

After the dough has chilled, fry the doughnuts. Pour vegetable oil in a pan, so it is about 1/4 inch deep. Heat at medium-high heat. Once the oil is hot, turn down the heat to low (this is so the doughnuts cook all the way through and do not burn). Form the dough into little balls and flatten them--the doughnuts will puff up as they cook. Drop the dough into the oil and cook for about 2 minutes on each side. Adjust the heat as needed so the doughnuts brown and don't burn. Move cooked doughnuts onto a plate lined with a paper towel. To serve, put on a plate and drizzle with sauce. Enjoy!

A note about the sauce: I would recommend brewing the tea very strong. Because there is so much sugar needed to make the sauce, the flavor of the tea can easily be drowned out. That is the one big change I will make to this recipe in the future, because I did not brew my tea strong enough!

Summer in a glass

2010-08-11T08:16:00.004-04:00

Tomato. Pomodoro. Tomate.

However you say it, tomatoes scream summer. They are sweet and juicy, but not sweet enough to be called the fruit they really are. Tomatoes have a green, herbal taste to them, and in a really ripe tomato, I think you can taste the sun beams that lovingly reddened its skin and flesh. Tomatoes are the building blocks of great sauces--marinara, bolognese, barbecue--but in the summer they beg a simpler preparation. Tomato salads abound. Tired of these, you can move onto salsas and uncooked pasta sauces. For the family party this past weekend I made a bunch of tomato topping for bruschetta, and it was during that process that I got an idea.

As I diced up the tomatoes, I kept thinking about all the seed-y pulp that I wasn't using. Couldn't I do something with it? As it turns out, yes. I got the idea to push the pulp through a strainer into a bowl, and was rewarded with a beautiful, rose-colored, vibrant tasting tomato juice.

And what else would I do with that, but mix up a drink? Tomato martini, anyone?

This is just vodka and tomato juice, about a 3:1 ratio. Garnished with a sprig of basil, tomato's best friend. Think a more alcoholic, yet lighter version of a bloody mary. It's all about the taste of the tomato, but there's no thick vegetable puree to wade through.

But my weekend tomato cocktail experience didn't end there. My sister was home, and she mentioned seeing a "white bloody mary" from Tyler Florence. She didn't even have to ask if I wanted to try it. She pulled up the recipe, we had all the ingredients, and on a relaxing Sunday afternoon, we dove into making them. For this, you make your own juice using a melange of all things green: green tomatoes, green grapes, cucumbers, celery, and a little jalapeno. Puree and push through a seive to create a gorgeous electric green liquid. Mix in a little lime, a little horseradish, and add your vodka. And now, you just spent so much time mixing the drink, you might as well go the extra mile with a salt and pepper rimmed glass and a fun garnish.

A few notes on the recipe:
~Tyler says to put the puree in a cheesecloth in a seive. You really don't need the cheesecloth.
~There's some sugar in his recipe. Not necessary, in my opinion. The grapes are sweet enough.
~Abby and I added a couple spoonfuls of the leftover puree to add a little texture.

A note on green tomatoes:
I love green tomatoes. I might even love them more than ripe tomatoes. They are a little citrus-y, a flavor I love. They have a little crunch, a texture I love. Fried green tomatoes are sublime. Dredge in a little flour, dip in egg, cover in cornmeal, and lightly fry. You want to brown the cornmeal, but not overcook the tomatoes. I like them best when some of the hardy texture is retained. And you can top your fried green tomatoes with so many things. Maybe even a ripe tomato salsa. So delicious.

Family Feast

2010-08-10T09:13:00.005-04:00

Apprentices have asked me, what is the most exalted peak of cuisine? Is it the freshest ingredients, the most complex flavors? Is it the rustic, or the rare? It is none of these. The peak is neither eating nor cooking, but the giving and sharing of food. Great food should never be taken alone. What pleasure can a man take in fine cuisine, unless he invites cherished friends, counts the days until the banquet, and composes an anticipatory poem for his letter of invitation? ~Nicole Mones, The Last Chinese Chef

When I came across the above quote in Nicole Mones's excellent novel on Chinese cuisine, I instantly loved it. I'm moving in a week, and I plan on posting a copy of it in my kitchen to remind me of the great truth--company trumps cuisine. It is only people that are eternal.

This past weekend was another great one of family and food, shared with some of the same people I enjoyed the crab feast with. I love the cooking just as much as the party itself, but even that has a communal aspect to it, because I'm spending all my kitchen time with my mother. We have a great rhythm, and it's a joy to share the kitchen with her. Plus, after many years of entertaining, we have reached a point where everything is perfectly relaxed. We cooked over the course of two days, and had plenty of time to sit with a beer before our guests came.

A few pictures from the event:

Lovely place settings.

Drink trolley

The spread

Close-up: beautiful greens

Ironic napkins!

An old married couple

2010-07-31T14:58:00.003-04:00

Artichokes are frumpy. That's really all there is to it. They actually look pretty nice when you first buy them. The lovely color green, sometimes brushed with purple, all in a neat little bulb, with the "petals" hanging down like a tutu. But then, you cook it. And that pretty little green becomes a dull and completely lifeless shade of camo green. The petals, which had once been tightly closed, open up a bit. It's not the prettiest sight.

But all that is made up for because artichokes are so fun to eat. I grew up eating artichokes, and as a kid, they were probably the most fun food. Eating an artichoke is like playing with your food. You break off one little petal, scrape off the meat with your teeth and continue. My mom has always served artichokes in a pretty traditional way, steamed, with lemony mayo for dipping. I've never been much of a mayo girl, and though I am coming around, I've started to prepare mine a little differently. The cooking method remains the same, but before cooking, I stuff bits of lemon peel, mint, and garlic between the petals. Toward the end of cooking, I pour over a little vermouth, which adds a lovely sweetness. All of this adds some subtle flavor to the artichoke.

Recently, I had two artichokes. I prepared one in my usual way. But then I decided to try something different with the other. I'd read about bagna cauda in an issue of Bon Appetit magazine, and had been wanting to try it. Bagna cauda means "hot bath" in Italian, and is a warm, garlicky dip for vegetables. The dip is very easy to make, and contains very few ingredients: garlic, butter, anchovies, olive oil. You can read a recipe here, though I made mine a little differently, with less olive oil.

And oh my goodness, it was perfect. An amazing accompaniment to the artichokes, which have a very mellow flavor. Bagna cauda, as you can probably tell from the ingredients, is anything but. So the combination of mellow and intense works really well. The artichokes let the other flavors shine. The garlic becomes mellow and sweet, and the anchovies add their very unique saltiness. And though I can't believe I ate a whole bulb of garlic in one sitting, it was worth it, and not at all hard to do.

Plus, bagna cauda is just as frumpy as an artichoke. They are a perfect pair.

Comfort Food

2010-07-31T08:36:00.004-04:00

Today I'm writing about something I was sure I'd blogged about before. But I checked just to make sure, and I haven't. So it's about time I give a shout out to one of the most sublime dishes of all time, the croque monsieur. This little baby comes to us from France, and is basically an amped-up version of a ham and cheese sandwich. The big difference is that everything is slathered in cream sauce and then thrown under the broiler.

I first heard about croque monsieur in high school French class, which is most likely where you've heard of it if you ever took high school French. I seem to remember it being pretty ubiquitous; "Qu'est-ce que tu veux manger?" "Je voudrais un croque monsieur." That sort of thing. Well, high school passed, and so did my study of French, but I was reunited with the sandwich on the pages of Ina Garten's Barefoot in Paris. I decided to give it a shot, and let me tell you, it was amour at first bite. I began making croque monsieur all the time. I think my mom thought I was a little crazy. But I was hooked. Croque monsieur (with a glass of red wine) has become my ultimate comfort food.

Maybe that statement is a little shocking. For one, isn't comfort food supposed to be hearty things like meatloaf and pot roast that are rich and warm and make us feel good in the winter? Perhaps. And isn't comfort food those meals we grew up with, the ones our moms poured so much love and care into, and to this day remind us of childhood? Absolutely. But for me, I choose a croque monsieur, and I choose it for two reasons. (1) It's quick. The brilliance of the croque is that it takes very simple ingredients and makes them into something that doesn't taste simple. Making a cream sauce may seem like a lot of work for a sandwich, but you can make one in less than five minutes. When I come home after a long day and need something to cheer me up, I know that I can have bliss, quick. (2) It just. tastes. good. In yesterday's post, I talked about taste, and how we can eat food and not even be aware of what we're tasting. That never happens to me with my little monsieur. It tastes delicious to me every time.

I think it's the mustard. Funny, because growing up, I never liked mustard. In fact, I didn't like many condiments. I've come to realize it's mostly a texture thing--globs of those soft, almost gelatinous mixtures just didn't appeal to me. But then I made croque monsieur. And I just spread the thinnest layer of mustard on just one slice of my bread. It was a revelation. The gooey texture of the mustard is not there at all, but the flavor certainly is. And it's a sharper flavor than everything else. It cuts through the creaminess of the sauce, the nuttiness of the cheese, and the silkiness of the ham. And the result is beautiful.

So, I'm thinking right now you might be wanting to make a croque monsieur of your own. Do it. Here's how:

Throw a couple slices of good white bread (Pittsburgh people--I use Mancini's, but anything Italian-style will do) in the toaster to lightly toast. Basically, you just want to crisp it up.

While the bread is toasting, make your Bechamel (the cream sauce). Here's how to do it:

Melt 1 T of butter in a saucepan over medium low heat.
When the butter is melted, add 1 T of flour and stir together, making a kind of paste (this is called a roux, and it's what thickens the sauce).
In a slow stream, pour in about 1 cup of milk (maybe less), quickly stirring the whole time, to avoid lumps.
Let come to just under a boil, and cook for a few minutes so it thickens a bit.
Take off the heat and add a combination of grated parmesan and gruyere (or swiss) cheese, about 1/3-1/2 cup.
Sprinkle in a pinch of salt, nutmeg, and fresh ground pepper. Stir.

That's it!

Now assemble the sandwich. Take the bread, and on the bottom slice, spread a thin layer of mustard. The French would probably use Dijon, but I like something with a little spice. Use what you like.

Put a couple slices of ham on top.

Spread a thin layer of Bechemel on the top slice of bread, and put the sandwich together.

Now slather the whole thing with Bechemel. Make sure all the bread is covered in sauce. Any parts that aren't may burn when you broil.

Sprinkle with grated cheese (or sometimes I just a slice of swiss from the deli counter).

Put on a pan and put under the broiler until the cheese is bubbly and golden.

Eat with a knife and fork. And a glass of red.

Bon Appetit!

Umami, or, why our senses matter

2010-07-29T22:25:00.003-04:00

“It’s good when food tastes good. It’s kind of like proof you’re alive.”

The above quotation is from a novel by Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami (I believe Norwegian Wood). It's a simple and profound truth—our senses matter. Sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste, these are the mediums through which we perceive the world. They are crucial to our understanding, to our emotions. A writing professor of mine once said that our senses are avenues to our feelings. Our brains react to what we perceive and register an emotional reaction. When we feel the sun on our skin, we are happy. When we see grey skies, we are subdued. Yet somehow, we often forget that our senses exist, even as they are happening. Our eyes take in images that we forget. We hear music, yet simultaneously drown it out.

Taste is perhaps the most interesting of all the senses because taste comes to us through a necessary human action—eating. We must eat and drink to sustain our physical lives. Yet it is possible to participate in the act of eating and never taste a thing. Perhaps we only see and feel our food. We eat a plum, and our mind registers the image, so our brain knows to “taste” a plum. But the experience of actually tasting is much different. We do more than see purple, smell sweetness, and feel juices. All of these other senses affect our taste, but they are not taste. Taste is rather difficult to describe. Scientists say our tongue registers four tastes: sweet, salty, bitter, and sour. In the early 2000s they finally acknowledges a fifth--umami. Technically, umami is amino acid. It's what we taste in meat and parmesan cheese. But umami, named from the Japanese language for the Japanese chemist who first did experiments to "discover" it, is translated into our language with one simple word--delicious.

And can we really describe food any other way? We see that it is beautiful. We smell that it is fragrant. We feel that it is crunchy (or smooth). We even hear it sizzling in the pan. But when it comes to taste, I think the best we can hope for is to taste that it is delicious. To be truly aware of what we are eating. It is possible to eat and not know that the food is good (and sometimes, it really isn't). The food will keep you alive. But when you eat, and know that the food is good, you can also know that you are alive.

To close, some random photos of what I've been eating this summer (it was all delicious):

Hodge-podge meal: Golden beets with ricotta salata, greens with bacon, sauteed corn with jalapeno

Summer lunch: fried green tomato "BLT", toast with roasted red pepper spread and summer sausage, ricotta salata

Summer breakfast: lemon blueberry pancakes with black mango tea

Summer happy hour: soft-ripened goat cheese, peaches with honey, glass of vinho verde

Remembering summer one bite at a time

2010-07-23T16:16:00.002-04:00

So, recently a friend blogged about summer experiences/memories and ended by asking other people to share some. So I thought I'd leave a few thoughts here...

I'm sure it's obvious that food is a big part of my summer. It's exciting to eat so many fresh vegetables after the cool winter months. It's the time of year for picnics and grilling. I love that I can go grab some fresh mint if I need it. I can drink iced tea. And probably best of all, eating outside all the time.

And looking back, food has always been a big part of my summers. Here's what I remember:

Dad grilling ribs and me loving them so much...making sassafras wraps with my friend Catherine and opening our little "Nature's Way Cafe" with my brother and sister as customers...eating sassafras off the tree in our lower yard and my dad commenting, "looks like deer have been getting the sassafras"...husking corn on the cob...picking black raspberries for hours...walking down the creek to the falls with my mam-ma and making "soup" with cut up carrots and celery...sucking the "milk" out of milkweeds...the whole family going out for ice cream after random dinners...going to the camp in Punxsutawney and cooking over the fire...telling Abby that my favorite drink was "highly shooken water" and shaking water in a bottle to make it...eating artichokes and then using the leaves to "draw" on brown paper bags...always bringing my parents a "treat" with their beers...

I'm sure there are many more! What are your summer food memories? Or what summer food do you like forward to this summer?

Birthday Treats

2010-07-21T11:09:00.004-04:00

Monday was my birthday, and it would be impossible for me to celebrate without a few special food items. To start the day, I made gingerbread waffles with a star-anise-scented plum syrup. (In keeping with the slightly Asian theme, served with Chinese black gunpowder tea.) Both of these were new recipes, and I was really pleased with how both turned out. The waffle recipe was from the Colorado Collage cookbook, and I based the syrup off of your basic bar staple, simple syrup. Here's how to make it:

Mix 1/4 c brown sugar and 1/3 c water in a saucepan with two small pieces of star anise. Bring to a boil, stirring to mix. When boiling, add 4 small halved plums (I had mini plums from the farmers' market, if yours are bigger, cut into smaller pieces) and boil for a few minutes to let the sauce thicken. Take off the heat and let cool slightly. (I used the leftover syrup, chilled, to make martinis later that evening--recommended!)

For happy hour, I made some simple cocktails and hors d'oeuvres for my mom and me to share. Drinks were Gin Rickeys with raspberries, and the food was radish-ginger pot stickers and homemade pickled beets. I used chioggia beets, which have a lighter red skin than regular beets, and are red and white striped on the inside. They are also a little sweeter. I sliced the beets very thin and put in a pot with about 1/4 c vinegar, 3/4 c water, a few peppercorns, and a bay leaf. Bring to a boil and then simmer until beets are cooked through, just a few minutes. Let cool and then chill in the fridge. Yum!

Crabbiness is next to godliness

2010-07-16T09:32:00.004-04:00

I've been putting off writing this post all week, because the task of putting into words culinary perfection is so daunting. But that's just what I experienced last weekend, so I'll give it a shot...

I wonder what it would have been like to live in the Garden of Eden. Can you imagine? Perfection. Perfect love between Adam and Eve. Perfect harmony between all God's creatures. And perfect food just waiting to be eaten. I don't imagine that Adam and Eve spent time trying to build fancy cooking gadgets. They probably didn't marinate their steaks for hours before they grilled them. They just, you know, reached up to a tree and grabbed a piece of perfect fruit. Granted, that method didn't always yield such desirable results, but you get the picture: peaches were hanging there in all their peachy-ness, lemons have never been more lemon-y, and beets were sweet enough to pull out of the ground and bite into, skin and all.

All this to say, that sometimes the best food doesn't need much adornment. When that first ripe tomato of summer comes along, what do you do? Certainly not mash it into a pulp with garlic and spices for spaghetti sauce. Save that for winter. You just eat the tomato. That's it. In this month's issue of Real Simple magazine, one of the features is "3-Ingredient Summer Recipes". In the introduction, the editor comments, "Smart, sophisticated food is not about the number of ingredients involved; it's about finding great elements that work perfectly together."

Well, I'd like to share a little 3-ingredient recipe that just about equals perfection. It's been around for ages, and it goes a little something like this: dump crabs (1) and Old Bay seasoning (2) into boiling water (3). Take crabs out. Eat.

This is what I was blessed enough to experience for hours on end last Saturday at Jimmy Johnson's annual Crab Feast. Jimmy is my mom's cousin, and for the last ten years he's invited carloads of crazy relatives down to his place in Maryland, and tirelessly serves up crabs all day. People go around dumping buckets of crabs on the tables. There's also corn, and plenty of mallets and paper towels to go around. This is simple food. But it's real food, and other than a couple cold beers to wash it down, you don't really need anything else.

But, I would be remiss if I didn't mention one important ingredient, and that's the family. All the wonderful people milling about are what make the day. Hearkening back to the Eden reference, it's a day of perfect love between this big Italian family. And of course that makes everything more delicious. Because no one wants to eat crabs in a room all alone.

Summer Lovin'

2010-07-02T09:32:00.003-04:00

One of my most favorite types of produce to buy from a farmers' market is apricots. I love their small, humble beauty. Tiny little orbs of light, they are simple, and a little sexy. To me, they have one of the most pure tastes I've ever experienced; very definitively apricot. There is no mistaking it. I love that, like orange, grape, and tangerine, they have a color name.

Ever since my 21st birthday, my mom has always given me a handmade card. Nothing fancy, just white paper with "Happy Birthday" written on it. But the precious part of these cards, is that, year after year, she finds some little poem to paste onto it. I don't know where she comes across these things. She doesn't particularly care about poetry, but she knows I do. And so there they are. These small, surprising, unknown poems.

The first year she did it, the poem was about apricots:

A Newborn Girl
by Nan Cohen

Consider one apricot in a basket of them.
It is very much like all the other apricots--
an individual already, skin and seed.

Now think of this day. One you will probably forget.
The next breath you take, a long drink of air.
Holiday or not, it doesn't matter

A child is born and doesn't know what day it is.
The particular joy in my heart she cannot imagine.
The taste of apricots is in store for her.

Ah, I just love that. The taste of apricots is in store for her. The mother is so excited for all the beautiful things that her daughter has yet to experience. Surely the taste of apricots is one of them.

Spotlight on: shrimp

2010-06-20T15:12:00.003-04:00

Shrimp is one of my favorite foods to have on hand. I buy it frozen in large, two-pound bags, and use as much or as little of it as I need at one time. It's easier to prepare for one person than a piece of meat, because I can control exactly how much I'm using. It takes hardly any time at all to thaw. And it's incredibly versatile. I recently prepared two different shrimp dishes, and both were delicious.

One: Spicy Mexican Shrimp

Preparing shrimp in this way is really easy, but incredibly flavorful. Make a spice blend using about 1 T each: chile powder, garlic salt, cumin, brown sugar, and 1 tsp. each of black pepper and dried oregano. Toss thawed shrimp in blend and saute (with some green onions, if you like) until cooked and heated through. Serve over rice, or in tortillas. Can also top with mango salsa, made with diced mango, onion, jalapeno, tomato, and lemon/lime juice.

Two: Bacon-Wrapped Shrimp

This just kind of happened the other night. I'd thought about trying bacon-wrapped shrimp before, and finally got around to it. In my head, I imagined it to be easy, but dreaded that in reality, I would run into problems, with the bacon falling off the shrimp, etc. Luckily, there were no problems, and it was easy! I used half a piece of bacon for each piece of shrimp, simply wrapped it around, and pan-fried. A few considerations that will make this dish a piece of cake:

If there is a lot of fat on one end of the bacon, cut it off (before wrapping).
Frozen shrimp can be bought raw or pre-cooked. Make sure to use raw for this, as otherwise the shrimp will be over-cooked.
Wrap all the shrimp first, and then put it in the pan, so it cooks at the same rate.
One side of the shrimp should have the two ends of bacon, overlapping. But this side face-down into the pan first.
Do not move the shrimp until you are ready to flip it.
After flipping the shrimp, use a toothpick to secure the two ends. This will also make the shrimp easy to serve.

Enjoy!

Spotlight on: rosemary

2010-05-22T18:40:00.003-04:00

I thought it might be fun to occasionally highlight some specific raw ingredients, with the intent of showing the very different ways the ingredients can be used. Food is vibrant and exciting, but if you prepare things the same way over and over again, it might get boring. I hope that never happens for any poor food out there!

As I cook, I've been amazed by how similar some cuisines are. Food from Mexico and food from India is surprisingly similar. Meat (usually chicken) is often prepared in a thick, spicy sauce. Cumin is a popular flavor in both cuisines. Lime is a popular fruit. And both cultures have a flatbread (tortillas or naan) to sop it all up. Yet, somehow, the end result is noticeably different. Chicken mole gets heat from dried chilies. Chicken tikka masala gets richness from ground almonds.

So we learn that every raw ingredient out there can pose in a variety of guises. Today I spotlight rosemary, a potent herb used most often in Italian cooking. But these uses are quite different.

To begin, a very traditional approach--rosemary focaccia with tomaotes. I made a basic bread dough and added 1 tbs. chopped rosemary (something you can do too--keep in mind these simple proportions 3:1 flour to water, plus ~1 tsp. dry yeast, salt, and ~1 tbs. olive oil), used my fingers to create dimples, topped with olive oil, and a mix of halved cherry tomatoes, more chopped rosemary, grated lemon peel and sea salt. Bake about 20 minutes in a 425 degree oven.

Voila! Molte italiano!

For a less traditional use, I turned to the liquor cabinent and made...a rosemary martini! Create a simple syrup by combining equal parts sugar and water in a saucepan with a few rosemary sprigs, bring to a boil, then simmer for three minutes. Cool completely. In a cocktail shaker with ice, mix four parts vodka (though this might be even better with gin, but I was out) to one part syrup (or to taste) and squeeze in some lemon juice. Shake, pour into a frosted glass, and garnish with a sprig of rosemary. The rosemary makes this cocktail very refreshing!

As you can see, it's possible to use the things in your refrigerator in very different ways! I hope to write on a new ingredient soon, and am open to suggestions! What do you wish you had more uses for?

What's a food blog, anyway?

2010-05-18T17:07:00.003-04:00

On Saturday, I had the privilege to cook for three men, two of whom were brand-new friends. We chatted and drank beer while a pork loin was in the oven, and somehow got on the topic of food blogs, by which I mean, I was explaining to them that, in fact, food blogs exist, and that, in fact, lots of people read them. It was a new and difficult concept for them to understand, especially blogging of the Julie/Julia variety--talking about someone else's recipes. "What do you write? Today I made chicken?"

But all kidding aside, it occurs to me that the gentlemen make a valid point. Of course I find reading about deglazing a pan terribly interesting, but perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that (most) people haven't given the subject a second (or a first) thought.

So in this post my purpose is to attempt to answer the question--why do people write and read about food?

To begin, I will say this: it is not to catalog or learn new recipes. Oh, that may be part of it, but recipe writing is too simple an answer. First, it's already been done before. People like Fannie Farmer and Marion Cunningham have cataloged just about every basic American recipe you can think of in their cookbooks. We are in a new food stage in America. Sure, new cookbooks from celebrity chefs are coming out all the time (and I love them), but mostly they are part of our new "foodie" landscape. I think a lot of people are interested in food for the sake of food, not for the sake of cooking it. Second, I don't use recipes all that often. If I want to make something specific that I've never tried before (falafel), or want to know about cooking times/temps (roast chicken), I'll refer to a recipe. But generally, I don't bother. That doesn't mean I don't read recipes. I do. I look at cookbooks everyday. You may wonder what the point of looking at cookbooks and not making the concoctions contained therein is. The answer has three parts, and I think, each part will answer the question at hand about food blogs.

(1) For some people, and I am among them, food has a magical quality. The mere mention of the word "artichoke" has the power to excite me. I like reading about food like I like reading about my friends. I read cookbooks, food blogs, and food memoirs (autobiographical works that center around the preparing or eating of food--check out Ruth Reichl or Marlena de Blasi) because I love hearing about what different foods--or maybe I should say ingredients--are doing. My friend Richard is quickly becoming my favorite person to cook with because he gets just as excited as I do. One mention of "pizza dough" and he comes running. Cooking is just as much fun as eating.

(2) Reading about food builds a mental catalog of flavors and their combinations. The reason I don't use recipes is that, when it comes time to do something with the fava beans I picked up at a market in Charleston, I've already seen ten different ways of preparing favas, and I know which ingredients are a fava bean's friends. This kind of information sinks in through osmosis, the way anything does when you become familiar with it.

(3) Reading about food reminds me of food (or introduces me to something new). What I mean by this is that when I read someone talking about the barbecue they ate in Texas, I remember how much I like barbecue, how I haven't eaten it for months, and how I should make some. I also discover new ingredients. For example, last spring, Bon Appetit magazine featured ramps (see it here), which I had never heard of or seen before. But they looked great. And ever since my first introduction, I've seen recipes for ramps. But I've never actually seen ramps. Until today. I snatched them up. And, because of reason #2, I already know how I'll prepare them.

My beautiful ramps!

Something I love about spring

2010-04-25T17:44:00.002-04:00

That I can have this for breakfast:

Honeydew melon is so refreshing and just seemed like a perfect companion for sourdough toast spread with an amazing goat cheese chevre from my local farmers' market.

After a long winter, I am so ready for the clean tastes of spring. The changing seasons are so beautiful to me, and it's pretty amazing how they directly influence our lives--what we wear, how we spend our time, what we eat and drink. I never once considered eating tomatoes (save for the canned variety) all winter long, and I can't wait for the long, hot days of summer when they finally come around. I think it's exciting that we have to wait for certain foods. And all winter, I sought out full-bodied, spicy red wines; I'm looking forward to lightening it up a bit as the weather grows warmer. Here's a list of 10 things I'm excited for as the world warms up:

1. Basil!
2. Vinho verde
3. Iced tea with mint
4. Violets (they're here! look around you, they grow wild and are a tasty and beautiful ingredient to add to salads, desserts, or a cheese plate)
5. Lacinato kale (this farm grows the most beautiful kale I've ever seen)
6. Baby new potatoes
7. Watermelon
8. Beets
9. Wheat beer
10. Arugula

What are you looking forward to?

A Food Rant

2010-03-30T14:25:00.003-04:00

So normally I come here to share some recipes. I know a few people read them. I have no idea if people actually make them. And if you don't, that's fine--I myself rarely make recipes that I read on food blogs. But what I do very sincerely hope, whether you cook my recipes or not, is that you are cooking. I hope that you are feeding yourself well. I hope that you are putting food into your body that will sustain your body. That your diet looks like a rainbow. And maybe even that you follow one of Michael Pollan's food rules--"Eat as much junk food as you want, as long as you cook it yourself."

The British chef Jamie Oliver has been a hero of mine for a long time now. Not only does he run a restaurant in London, he seems to come out with a new cookbook every year (I have six of them), and his restaurant itself is doing a world of good--it's called Fifteen, because he takes in 15 young people who have had a rough time of it, and trains them to be chefs. Wow. Plus, he reformed the school cafeteria scene in Britain.

And now he's getting a ton of press for what he's doing in America. I encourage you to watch his show, which is on ABC every Friday at 9pm. His latest cookbook, Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution, has the same title as the show, and I would recommend it if you're looking for something to teach you basic recipes. Or at least watch this inspiring clip, in which he talks about what exactly it is he's trying to do.

As he says, "My wish is for everyone to help create a strong, sustainable movement to educate every child about food, inspire families to cook again and empower people everywhere to fight obesity."

I hope you will, in some small way, support this. Even if just means going to a farmer's market, buying something fresh, and cooking it for dinner.

Cooking for One: India

2010-03-27T16:19:00.002-04:00

Let me state up front that today's cooking for one takes a little more time than previous entries, but (a) it's the weekend, so maybe you have a little extra time, and (b) I want to show that making a full meal--especially in a cuisine that may be foreign to you--is not as time-consuming as you think it is. This meal can be prepared in less than 30 minutes. And considering that most people only eat Indian food at a restaurant, you will certainly save money by cooking it yourself. And, as promised, I've followed another cooking-for-one principle--using ingredients that I already have on hand, so you actually save time that way too, because you don't have to seek out anything exotic.

Here's the menu:

Chicken Tikka Masala
Ginger Chive Rice
Onion Naan

Now, in order to do this meal as quickly as possible, it's important to do things in the order that I list here. The naan dough, for example, has to rest before it's cooked, so you'll want to mix it early in the cooking process. If time isn't really important to you, or you plan on prepping this meal over the course of the day, feel free to mix up the steps as is convenient for you. But, to do this all in one go, here's what should happen:

1. Peel and finely chop 2 cloves of garlic, 1-2 inches of fresh ginger, and one medium onion (I've started to keep chopped onion in my refrigerator because I use it almost every time I cook. Consider doing this. That way, you don't have to spend time peeling and chopping every time you make a dish.).

2. In a small pan, heat some olive oil over medium-low heat and sautee the garlic, half the ginger, and one crushed chili pepper.

3. While it's sauteing, mix your naan dough (recipe found in previous post--add some finely chopped onion if you wish). Cover with a dish towel.

4. Pour the garlic mixture (leaving olive oil in the pan) into a bowl along with: 1/2 c of plain yougurt, 1 tsp. paprika, 1 tsp. ground cumin. Mix.

5. Cube one or two small chicken breasts, add to the yougurt mixture and stir to coat. *Note: Usually, I do this with already cooked chicken that I have leftover. Feel free to use raw chicken, just increase your cooking time later.

6. Make the rice. I used basmati rice because I had it, but use what you have! Because it's just one, make a small portion. Boil 1/2 c water--won't take long--with the rest of your chopped ginger and some salt. When it boils, add 1/4 c rice, turn down heat, and simmer, covered, until water is absorbed. Take off heat and leave covered until ready to use.

7. In the pan you sauteed the garlic in, saute your chopped onion, a sprinkling of paprika, cumin, and salt, until onion is transluscent. While this is happening, begin to heat a dry pan, preferably cast-iron, over high heat.

8. Add chicken/yougurt mixture to onions along with 1 T of tomato sauce. Saute until cooked or heated through. Meanwhile, cook your naan. Divide rested dough into three balls of equal size. Roll out on a floured surface, and cook in dry pre-heated pan until browned on each side (~1 minute or less).

9. Sprinkle rice with chopped chives.

10. Enjoy! You can use the naan as your only eating utensil!

A few closing notes:

*Of course, this isn't true chicken tikka masala, which would include a spice blend called garam masala and ground almonds, and maybe even some ground coriander and mustard seed. These aren't really ingredients I have around, so I didn't include them, as I was following my cooking-for-one principles!

*These recipes--along with all the recipes I share--are flexible. You don't have to add ginger and chives to your rice. I did because I happen to have a lot of ginger around my place, and chives are growing wild on my street. You could add anything you have to the rice--parsley and lime juice, for instance. Or just leave it plain.

*If you don't have yougurt for the sauce, you could use heavy cream or half-and-half instead.

*I'm eating mine with a nice iced Ceylon black tea.

Cooking for one advice--eat like an Italian peasant

2010-03-21T18:11:00.004-04:00

See, I told you I'd be back! Coming to you tonight with my second installment of cooking for one, and my advice this time is simple--make a pot of beans.

Beans are the solo-cook's best friend. They are cheap--less than $3 for a whole pound of them--and they can be reincarnated in many, many ways. At first, cooking beans might seem like a hassle, and not all that quick. But I promise--once your beans are ready, they can become a meal in no time (for many nights of the week).

Here's what you'll need to do:

Buy a 1 lb. bag of cannelini of great northern beans (white beans).

Put the beans in a large pot, cover with water, and soak overnight.

The next day, make sure there is enough water in the pot (should be 3x as much as the beans). Add a few tablespoons of olive oil. If you have them, throw in some whole peppercorns, a sprig of thyme (or sage or rosemary), and a whole bulb of garlic, with about a 1/2 inch cut off the top to expose the cloves. DO NOT ADD SALT. (Note: I understand that you may not have pepper, herbs, and garlic on hand. Don't worry. These items aren't necessary, but they do add subtle flavor to your beans)

Over high heat, bring to a boil, then turn down and simmer at least 1 1/ hours, or until beans are tender.

NOW you can salt.

Ok, the hard part is over. Although this process has taken several hours, it really only requires a few minutes of hands on time, and now you have a whole pot of building blocks for various recipes.

Note: When you drain the beans, you might want to save the cooking liquid, which can serve as a nice broth in bean recipes. Also, save the garlic! You now have a whole head of soft, fragrant garlic which can be used in a number of ways (for example, mashed into a white bean hummus).

Here's one idea for how to use your beans:

Beans and greens, a classic Tuscan combination. Rip up pieces of kale and saute in olive oil until it wilts--won't take long! You can add a little water if you want it to cook more. Mix kale with some of your beans and sprinkle with crushed red pepper and Parmesan. Yum.

The main lesson of this cooking-for-one installment is that sometimes taking a little extra time, can actually save you time in the long run! Don't be afraid to try a pot of beans. My dad did this all the time in his bachelor days!

Your pot of beans will last all week in the refrigerator. For more ideas, look here:

White beans with sausage and tomatoes

White beans with tuna and red onion

White bean and asparagus salad

What I've been up to

2010-03-21T09:18:00.003-04:00

So I've been a little silent on the blogosphere lately, due to the fact that my mom and Harry were home for awhile. I spend my time playing board games and not writing. Also not cooking for one! It was great to share some meals with my family. Here's a little peek at what I was up to:

Meal #1: The Lobster Dinner

This was my birthday present to Harry. When I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he said "How about a lobster dinner?" Well, that sounded just great to me! So I bought three live lobsters and threw them in a pot of boiling water! This was my first time making lobster, so I wasn't feeling super ambitious. I also had just spent 8 hours that day cooking soup for 80. Next time I make lobster, I hope to try something new. My goal is to kill the lobster myself by stabbing its head with a knife, then cutting it in half to grill. But the boiling method worked just fine for a first go, and the lobster went very well with the rest of the meal--sauteed broccoli and polenta with red pepper sauce. And we even drank some Prosecco, Italy's answer to Champagne. Yum.

Meal #2: Feast for TWO!

You may remember my feast for one post, and this meal grew in a similar fashion, and it was for two this time--my mom and me. Italian inspiration this time around. Front and center is fettuccine carbonara, the classic "eggs and bacon" pasta dish, which is just ridiculously delicious. Also super fast to make. It's done in the time it takes to fry bacon and cook pasta. Look up a recipe if you're ever wondering what to make for dinner. And you can totally throw some asparagus in if you want to get veggies in you. Then an artichoke. Normally we just steam them, and that's what I did, but I stuffed the leaves with lemon peel and garlic ahead of time, which added that little something extra. And sticking out of those blue glasses in the back are kale chips, which sound weird, but are the most. delcious. thing. ever. If you ever happen to stumble across some lacinato kale (also called Tuscan or dino kale), buy it up, and make these chips. They are fool-proof, and you won't regret it. Here's what to do:

Preheat oven to 250.

Spread kale leaves on a baking sheet. Brush with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper.

Put kale in preheated oven and bake 20-30 minutes until leaves are crisp.

That's it. You'll love them.

And that's it for me for now. But don't worry, I'll be back--because now I'm back to cooking for one!

Cooking for One

2010-02-25T14:23:00.004-05:00

I thought it might be fitting to periodically write about my cooking experiences with the specific focus of food for one. I realize that for some, this may be a hard area of life--when you only need to focus on feeding yourself, it might seem pointless to make a meal, and easier to throw something in the microwave. But you deserve to eat well everyday. So my hope is to share some tips and recipes that are perfect for the solo eater. It is my goal that each recipe I share will follow at least some of the following principles:

Time--save time-consuming recipes for entertaining and special occasions; you can have dinner ready in minutes. I will try to share recipes that take less time than heating up a frozen pizza.

Ingredients--you shouldn't have to spend time shopping when you could be cooking. When it's just me, I almost always cook only from what I already have on hand.

Cost--it seems silly to spend tons of money when you're just cooking for you (though sometimes it's nice to treat yourself!); I try to share recipes that won't break the bank!

Portion size--for me, the hardest thing about cooking for one is ending up with too many left-overs! It is my goal to share recipes that serve one, and only one, or with leftovers that can easily be reincarnated!

I'm kicking off this series with a very fun and very quick little recipe--Spicy Carrot Fritters

As I mentioned in a previous post, I've really been looking around the globe for my cooking inspiration. These fritters were inspired by the cuisine of Morocco. These are probably more of a snack than a whole dinner, but you could always supplement them with some couscous or grilled chicken.

You'll Need:
1 large carrot, grated
2 T red onion, diced
crushed red pepper, to taste
1/3 c flour
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cumin
1/4 tsp. ground pepper
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 large egg
vegetable oil, for frying
lemon or lime

Preparation:
After preparing the vegetables, begin to heat the oil in a small pan over medium high heat so it will be hot when the fritters are mixed (you don't need much oil, just enough to completely coat the bottom of the pan).

Put the carrot, onion, and crushed red pepper in a bowl. In another bowl, add all dry ingredients and whisk to blend. Sprinkle the dry ingredients over the carrot mixture. Stir to coat. Add the egg. Begin stirring the mixture so the dry ingredients become wet from the egg. At water, one teaspoon at a time, until the mixture is bound, a kind of thick, carrot-y batter. It will look something like this:

Using your hand, make small patties with the mixture by taking a golf ball size bit and then flattening it. Drop patty into the hot oil. Cook about two minutes per side. Make sure to cook the patties enough--the batter will not cook through if you leave them in too long. Turn the heat down if the fritters are getting dark brown.

As you take the fritters out, put on a paper towel-lined plate. Squeeze lemon or lime juice over the fritters, and enjoy!

Note: I realize that calling for half an egg may seem bizarre. To get half an egg, crack egg into a cup, whisk it, then pour half into your mixture. Save the other half in your refrigerator to use another day! When making food portions sized for one, half an egg isn't so odd!

The finished product:

Learn something new

2010-02-15T17:18:00.004-05:00

Lately, I keep getting asked the same question--"what did you do with all that time?"

Of course, my friends and family are referring to the fact that there was a snowstorm, school was canceled for a week, and thus, I have not been working much. Aside from three short hours on Friday, today marks the eighth day in a row that I didn't go to work. At first, it was a little surreal. I wasn't sure what to do with all that time, especially living alone. By now, I've almost settled into these work-less days, and it will probably feel just as surreal going back to work.

In any case, I quickly realized that I needed to find things to do to keep myself occupied, and one solution was to teach myself a new skill. Of course, I knew I was probably going to pull this skill from the world of food.

I'll be the first one to admit that I'm not much of a baker. Sure, I'll whip up a batch of cookies or scones here and there, or some days are just screaming for me to bake a cake, but it's not a realm I feel fully comfortable in. But I do love baking bread. My experience with bread is somewhat lacking, however. I'm fine as long as we're talking basic white breads--pizza dough, rolls, tortillas, foccacia, you name it, I'm there. But what about something that requires a little more skill, a little more effort, a little more patience? That was uncharted territory. So I dove in.

After consulting a wonderfully beautiful and informative cookbook, called simply, Ultimate Bread (by Eric Treuille and Ursula Ferrigno), I decided on ciabatta, that lovely bread from Italy named for a slipper and full of air holes. The reason this bread would be new for me is that it uses a starter, which essentially means that part of the dough is mixed, left to rest for 12 hours or up to several days, and then used to make the rest of the dough.

Here I've documented the process and included the basic recipe if anyone else needs something to do on a snowy day(s).

Day One--Make the starter
You'll need:
1/2 tsp dry yeast
2/3 c water
3 T milk
1/4 tsp sugar
1 c flour (the book calls for unbleached, but I didn't have it, so just used regular)

Step One: Dissolve yeast in water and milk for 5 minutes, then add sugar and stir to dissolve.
Step Two: Mix in the flour to form a loose batter. It will look like this:

Cover bowl with a dish towel and let rise overnight (or at least 12 hours).

Day Two--Make the dough
You'll need:
1/2 tsp dry yeast
1 c water
1/2 T olive oil
2 1/2 c flour
1 1/2 tsp salt

Step One: Let yeast dissolve in water for 5 minutes. Add this and the olive oil to the starter and mix well. It will look like this:

Step Two: Mix the flour and salt in to the mixture. You will be forming a wet, sticky dough. Beat with a wooden spoon for about 5 minutes--dough will become springy, but you will not be able to knead it! It will look like this:

Step Three: Cover dough with a dish towel and let rise for three hours, until tripled in size. DO NOT PUNCH DOWN DOUGH. It will look like this:

Step Four: Flour two baking sheets.

Step Five: Handling the dough very carefully (and with floured hands), scoop half the dough out of the bowl and onto one of the baking sheets. Note: The recipe in the book instructs the baker to use a dough scraper to do this. I did not have one, so I used a metal spatula. I would not recommend this. I think a better option would be to leave the dough intact and simply make one larger loaf instead of two small loaves.

Step Six: Use well-floured hands to shape loaf into a rough rectangle. Flour hands again. Neaten and plump the loaf by running your fingers down each side and gently tucking under edges of the dough.

Step Seven: If making two loaves, repeat step six. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Leave the loaves, uncovered, to proof for 20 minutes.

Step Eight: Bake bread in the preheated oven for 30 minutes (longer if making one large loaf), until risen, golden, and hollow sounding when tapped underneath. Cool on wire rack. My loaves:

A slice:

Served with a simple olive tapenade:

I was pleased with how my ciabatta turned out on my first try. However, I few things I would do differently:

(1) Make one loaf. I think my air bubbles suffered a little because I handled the dough too much.
(2) Bake bread for slightly longer in hopes of achieving a darker crust.
(3) Trying the steam method while baking. According to my bread book, the introduction of steam during baking helps create a crisper crust. There are a few methods, but I will probably try the method of placing a try of ice cubes on the bottom rack of my oven (under the bread), and then removing it when all the ice has melted.

Enjoy!

Romantic Dinner for One

2010-02-13T21:14:00.003-05:00

Is it possible? To romance yourself? For a lover of food, the answer is yes, yes, yes! In honor of being alone when everyone else is celebrating each other, I decided to cook a nice meal for...me.

The upside of this is that creativity runs rampant. Cooking for one means being more adventurous in the kitchen when creating your own recipes, and when trying other peoples' recipes, picking one with ingredients that appeal to you. There's no worrying if the other person will like it; only one opinion matters.

So tonight, I pulled out a favorite bottle of wine (Root 1's complex and spicy carmenere), put on a favorite movie (The Jane Austen Book Club, starring a whole slew of strong female leads), and served myself a four course gastronomic celebration.

The opening course was where I really let my creativity explode, with a crostini slathered with dried apricot and orange chutney and drizzled with balsamic reduction.

I followed this with a main course of pasta, using a recipe from Jamie Oliver's cookbook Jamie's Italy, which can be found here. The main components of the sauce include anchovies, red wine, raisins, and tomato puree. It seemed a perfect selection, because I adore anchovies and know that many other people don't--a great dish to make for myself. The anchovies literally melted down, providing their unique salty fishiness to the sauce, which I find quite sexy.

The next course was a very simple brussel sprout salad. I sliced the brussel sprouts into slivers and tossed with sliced almonds, sea salt, pepper, olive oil, lemon juice and zest. The perfect fresh flavors to cleanse my palate for a very special dessert...

In honor of Valentine's Day, my fabulous mother sent me indulgent chocolate-covered figs. A perfect end to my romantic meal for one.

Yum.

For those interested, the recipe for my crostini:

Crostini with Apricot-Orange Chutney, Pecorino, and Balsamic Reduction

Ingredients
For the chutney:
2 T butter
3 slices of an orange, with rind, diced
5 dried apricots, diced
one small onion, diced
1/4 c sugar
2 or 3 T apple cider vinegar
1/4 t cumin (optional)
salt and pepper to taste

For the crostini:
A few slices of ciabatta
olive oil
garlic

To top:
Pecorino cheese, grated
3 T balsamic vinegar

First, make the chutney. Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium low heat, then add onions and apricot. Saute about 3 minutes, until onions are slightly translucent. Add all other ingredients and saute about 5 more minutes. Take off heat and keep covered, at room temperature until ready to use.

To make crostini, brush slices of ciabatta with olive oil and toast in a skillet until golden brown on both sides. Once toasted, take a clove of garlic, cut in half lengthwise, and rub cut side on top of each slice of bread.

Simmer balsamic vinegar in a small saucepan until reduced by about half. While the balsamic is simmering, top each crostini with some chutney and grated pecorino cheese. Drizzle with balsamic reduction. Enjoy!

Exceptional Love

2010-02-12T17:45:00.003-05:00

Here's another commentary for all you film buffs out there, though I'm hoping you don't find this one completely ridiculous, as the topic at hand is not the pithy life and love in Revolutionary Road, but the fluffy life and love of He's Just Not That Into You, which although it also explores the struggle of marriage, does it in a much more light-hearted manner, focusing primarily on the ubiquitous twenty-something (or even thirty-something) struggle--finding someone to love. Or just someone who will call after a date. But both movies, I think, are equally realistic, and equally examine truths about life, which is why I've chosen to talk about a movie that might seem "silly" here (plus, I love it, ok?).

He's Just Not That Into You structures its plot by following what I figure to be eight "love" stories (perhaps better termed "relationship" stories) between nine main characters. If that seems a little unlikely, note that one of said main characters, Conor, is involved in three of those eight stories. Each of these stories portrays people trying to follow "relationship rules" that we've all heard of--"don't call him, wait for him to call you," "if he hasn't married you after x amount of time, he never will (but will eventually marry someone younger/hotter)," and even, "don't talk to hot women other than your wife."

Some of these "rules" seem obvious, some seem ridiculous, and some of them may even seem wise. But the point is, we all follow (at least some of) them. Everyone adheres to rules that are imposed by society ("don't ask a girl out for Friday night at 3pm Friday afternoon"), your particular subset of society ("don't date--court"), or simply, yourself ("don't date a guy with small hands"--my personal rule). We may pick and choose which of these rules to follow, but we all know what they are, and hope they will help us on our path to finding "the one".

Although all the characters in the film are following and influenced by "the rules", the character of Alex (interestingly played by Justin Long, who gets to be a tough, asshole kind of character instead of his usual endearing wimp) is the one who perpetuates them, spells them out for the viewer. He meets the movie's primary heroine, Gigi (played by adorable Ginnifer Goodwin), a week after her first date with Conor. Still not hearing from Conor a week later, Gigi has decided to "casually" bump into him at a restaurant he mentioned that he frequents. He's a no-show, and when she embarrassingly spills the story to Alex, he gives her the first rule--"If a guy is acting like he doesn't give a shit, he genuinely doesn't give a shit." Seems like good advice to me, and it did to Gigi too--so she begins calling Alex anytime she's with a new guy, and he continues to add to the rules. The rules are very important to Alex, and even when Gigi tells him some story of a friend of a friend of a friend for whom things worked differently, Alex is quick to point out what it is--an exception. Gigi shares with her friends, "We have got to stop listening to all these stories because...we're not the exception, we're the rule."

Of course, in typical rom-com fashion, Gigi falls for Alex and is convinced he feels the same way because of "the signs." When she makes her feelings known, he rejects her, reminding her of the rules--she shouldn't assume anything. "If a guy wants to make it happen, he will make it happen."

Don't worry, as you probably guessed, Gigi and Alex get together in the end when he realizes how much he misses her and shows up at her apartment. Although this may seem like just a typical chick flick plot line, the message is a good one, because, as Alex says to Gigi mid-kiss--"You are my exception." And I think that's the truth. Not just for them, not just for the couples in the movie (some of whom end up single, by the way), but for all of us. We can follow the rules all we want, but our real love stories--the real loves of our lives--will be the exceptions. Everything you think you want or think you should do in a relationship won't matter when it actually comes along.

So, to all you singles out there, planning on spending (another) Valentine's Day alone, don't worry if you break a few rules, and remember that your exception is out there somewhere. And don't forget to break the biggest Valentine rule of all (the importance of being with someone), and love the one you're with--YOU.

Revolutionary Thinking

2010-02-11T13:09:00.002-05:00

Note: This entry contains some spoilers for the movie Revolutionary Road.

I am much more a person of thought than of action; more likely to be found thinking than doing. So it comes as no surprise that when left alone in a snowed-in house for days, thoughts would swirl up around me with greater passion than usual. All this ruminating has extended to an area that I usually rest in, thought-free: film.

This may seem surprising--many movies are meant to be thought-provoking, telling powerful stories that stick in our minds. Well, those aren't the types of movies I usually choose. In fact, as embarrassing as it is to admit, I prefer mind-less movies that will merely entertain me and require no mental acrobatics. I am a great lover of the chick-click genre as it makes no demands of me. Perhaps this is because I view movies as an escape from my usual state of being (thinking); purely a chance to knit and relax.

However, I occasionally wind up watching a movie that does make demands of me, one that generates more thought. Being snowed-in, I've been watching more movies than usual, so it was bound to happen. Yesterday I watched Revolutionary Road, which inspired many thoughts, and I feel compelled to write about it here, in an effort to sort some of them out.

I chose the movie on the basis of the lead actors--Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio--who I think are two of the best actors of our generation. Of course, they first appeared together over ten years ago in Titanic; interestingly, both movies tell stories of love that must end, and in both cases, someone dies.

Revolutionary Road tells the story of Frank and April Wheeler, a young couple in the 1950s, who are faced with dilemmas that still confront people today--falling in and out of love in your marriage, the struggle of raising children, unexpected pregnancy, expectations of conformity from society-at-large, and the question of what makes a satisfying career (or life, for that matter).

Caught in the rut of suburbia and experiencing marital problems, April comes up with a fix-all solution--move to Paris. Paris, she thinks, will solve all their problems, giving Frank the chance to escape a job he hates and have the time to discover what he really wants to do while April supports him financially (remember, this is the 1950s!). And of course, their love will be reignited, because nothing's sexier than two young people breaking the mold and following their dreams.

"This is our chance, Frank," April insists. "This is our one chance." And in that, one of the themes of the movie--what you do with your chances in life. Do you take them, or let them pass you by? For Frank, the chance of Paris isn't as simple as it is for April. Because he's offered another chance--a new job with a new (much bigger) salary. And with April unexpectedly pregnant again, it seems like a good opportunity. Bart, the executive who offers Frank the position, has something to say about chance as well:

A man only gets a couple of chances in life. If he doesn't grab them by the balls, it won't be long before he's sitting around wondering hoe he got to be second rate.

It seems that one message of the movie is that chance is subjective--what's chance to one will look like foolishness to another. Bart thinks he's offering Frank an opportunity. April sees it as oppression.

And it's this tension that is the root of Frank and April's problem. She values searching, while he values stability. Frank and April have a fight when he suggests they shouldn't go to Paris:

Frank: I have the backbone not to run away from my responsibilities.
April: It takes backbone to lead the life you want, Frank.

It seems that both are right. Facing responsibility, facing dreams, both take courage. I think we can only conclude that life is always hard. There is no quick-fix-Paris solution. It is difficult to honor responsibilities and commitments, and it is equally difficult to make some shooting-star dream become a reality.

Revolutionary Road is essentially a movie about living, and in examining Frank and April's lives, it led me to examine my own. Like Frank, I have responsibilities that I don't always enjoy. Like April, I have dreams that remain just that--dreams. Her response was to see the situation as hopeless. Is there any other? How else can we judge our lives when we look at them and see desires that aren't realities? I suppose I could be like April. And maybe in her situation I would be. But for me, I see those unmet dreams not as hopeless, but hopeful. Hopeless will be the day I stop dreaming.

Frank says to April at the beginning of their relationship, "I want to feel things. Really feel them." And I think that's what's important. Feeling, not taking for granted. Remember that you are alive. And as for staying true to responsibilities, that's what connects us to other humans. It makes us part of something bigger than just ourselves.

Tools of the trade

2010-02-10T18:16:00.003-05:00

Here's a glimpse into the most mundane corner of my life.

Though while I'm at it, let me just how much I love my wooden spoon. A wooden spoon is one of the most useful kitchen tools, and I'm constantly grabbing for it. And it's wood. So organic and raw.

From the roots, grow branches

2010-02-10T11:53:00.003-05:00

At heart, I would consider myself to be an Italian cook. I enjoy making pizza, pasta, and polenta, dishes so ingrained in my psyche that I can get any of them ready in minutes without a recipe. Stirring a pot of risotto is one of the most comforting activities I can imagine. I'm a true Tuscan in my love of white beans, salami (real salami), and greens. And I love love love Italian wine.

Italian food philosophy appeals to me; it's all about freshness and passion. Italy is a country of lovers, amore being a way of life, and this carries over into the kitchen. Italian food isn't fancy, but it is life itself. It's about using a few ingredients perfectly, re-inventing your leftovers, and putting your own spin on classics (every Italian chef thinks his way is the only way).

But lately I've been straying a bit from the motherland, venturing into new worlds of food and flavor. As I mentioned in my feasting post, I've been looking to the Middle East (even North Africa!) for inspiration. I made a pizza the other night, but it was more of a Middle Eastern flatbread, topped with feta cheese, dried apricots, and almonds. Handmade tortillas have become a staple bread around my house, and I've been slurping up rice noodles from clean, ginger-y broth.

Asia is definitely an area I've been finding inspiration in, and last night I found myself in China, making a variation of these little dumplings, or as we sometimes call them, pot stickers. This is something I've never tried making before, and actually, I don't even know that I've ever ordered them at a restaurant. Mine were definitely a spin-off of the recipe on epicurious, as I didn't have any ground pork, so my filling was primarily chopped shrimp and cabbage. But I made use of the helpful videos of chef Anita Lo making the noodle dough and filling/folding the dumplings, to better learn this new skill. As you can see from my picture, my dumplings were not quite so beautifully pleated as hers:

Though note that my last two were significantly better, so I think I was making progress!

I think part of the problem was that I wasn't using ground meat as the base for my filling, so the filling tended to move about more instead of staying in a neat little ball. But all in all, I'm pretty pleased with myself, and the finished result, served with green jasmine tea, was delicious!

Snowy Thoughts

2010-02-09T11:32:00.002-05:00

I don't know how many of you are having the same weather experience, but in my life, it's been pretty darn snowy around the place. So snowy, in fact, that it's safe to say snow is governing my life. I'm not working because all the schools are canceled. When I want to go into town, it takes me at least twice as long to get there. I'm not going outside much because I hate the cold, and the snow is too deep to really walk around. So I'm left alone in a huge house with nothing but my thoughts for company.

Of course, my first inclination is to cook. Mostly, I've been making all kinds of warming, comforting foods. For breakfast this morning I had biscuits with sausage gravy, something I'd never make normally. The other night, I made a red wine vegetable stew over the fire in my fireplace, which, I must say, felt pretty damn cool.

But beyond cooking, what else is there? Watching movies is nice, but I can only do that so much without feeling like a huge slob. Housework, but generally, the house is clean enough. Knitting, but my stash of yarn is dwindling, and I've always considered that more of a social activity anyway. Reading, but I can't find the right book.

I've always been somewhat of a reclusive person, but this snow is beating the hermit out of me. Movies (like He's Just Not That Into You, which I watched last night) are more fun when disected with a friend. I'm more inspired to clean when my mom's around, because I know she'll appreciate it. My knitting moves faster when I have someone to talk to. And I enjoy reading great bits aloud to whoever is around.

And of course, eating. I do like cooking for myself--I can make whatever I want and not worry if someone else is going to like it--but generally, it's more enjoyable to eat with company.

So I thought I'd just get some of my thoughts out on the blog-o-sphere before I go back to thinking alone.

A Feast for One

2010-01-23T09:17:00.003-05:00

The title of this post may seem a bit oxymoronic. Can one really feast? Can you feast alone? I'm reading a fascinating history of feasting called Charlemagne's Tablecloth by Nichola Fletcher, and this is a point she briefly addresses, commenting that while by definition a feast does imply a group of people (and I should hope so--one feast she cites, given by the Archbishop of York in 1465--included over 41,000 items of meat, ranging from wild bull, to venison, to rabbit, to swan), there have been times in history, though rare, when feasts have been given for one. Usually, however, as in the case of the Roman Apicius, he feasted and then ended his life by swallowing poison.

Although I had no plans of ingesting poison, a feast for one was sounding pretty darn good. At least a mini one.

As always happens when I read books about food, I began to get intense cravings for, well, food (another book--highly recommended that induced the same feeling can be seen here). My cravings ranged from miso soup, to chicken mole, to kibbeh nayeh (raw ground lamb with bulgher), to flatbread. And these weren't even the dishes I was reading about. This is often the problem when I try to piece together a meal--my mind is so muddled with a variety of dishes, that I can never organize my thoughts to choose one. And there's also the obvious problem that all of these dishes come from different parts of the world. Take my initial craving--hummus. That was the first food that I began dreaming about, but I was picturing myself eating it slathered on...naan. Normally, I try to cook all my food from the same general country/region, so this was a bit of a mental stumbling block for me.

Well, after much contemplation, agonizing, and a phone call to my mother, I decided to run with it. India may not be part of the Middle East, but at least it's in the same general latitude. And so, regional differences aside, my personal feast began to grow, and evolved to this:

There's the naan front and center, and the little bowl of hummus in the back. The olives and feta make Greece represented at the meal, there's a salad of oranges and red onion, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with salt and pepper, which is probably best described as Italian, and that blue bowl in the back is a dish from the wonderful Olives and Oranges cookbook--raw julienned turnip, marinated in sea salt, lime juice, and harissa (a spicy pepper paste--I didn't have any, so I made my own mock-up of it with some chili powder, olive oil, and a dried red chili). This dish is from Tunisia. (To drink, I had an Argentinian Malbec) So there you have it, a feast from many nations. For one.

You may notice that the food is all spread out on the floor, and that's exactly when I ate it. On the floor, in front of a fire, and...with my hands. There something very sensual about touching your food as you eat it, and since I had the naan to serve as a utensil, this worked very well. The oranges were probably the most fun. I took a slice, and folded it up like a taco, with some of the onion inside. So delicious.

Note: I had never made naan before last night, and I was pleased with how it turned out. I used an amalgam of recipies, so, for any interested, here's what I did:

You'll need:
1 1/2 c flour
~1 tsp. sugar
~1 1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
~1/4 c of plain Greek yogurt (I used Oikos brand, and almost all of a 5.3 oz. container)

Put all of the dry ingredients into a bowl and whisk to mix. Whisk in the yogurt, incorporating as much of the flour mixture as possible. Once the yogurt is incorporated (there will be a lot of flour left), add water, two tablespoons at a time, until all the flour is mixed together to form an elastic dough. Kneed dough until smooth, adding more flour if needed. Let the dough rest, covered in a dish towel, for at least ten minutes.

To my understanding, naan is usually cooked on the inside of a heated clay drum. As I don't have one, I just used a cast-iron skillet. Heat the skillet, and take a piece of the dough (a little bigger than a golf ball). Roll out the dough. You want it to be pretty thin, as the naan will puff up some while cooking. Cook until browned (unevenly) on side and then flip, really only a minute per side. Keep the naans warm on a plate under a dish towel while you cook the rest.

Mystery

2009-12-09T18:12:00.003-05:00

"The Christian mysteries are an indivisible whole. If we become immersed in one, we are led to all the others" ~Edith Stein

We can find rest in mystery. The place of mystery is somewhere real that we can live, if only we let our hearts truly settle down into mystery as reality and escape the need for explanation. Interestingly, this a truth I have discovered mainly through women writers. Men want to explain things. Think of Lewis, of Chesterton--delightful men of mighty faith who are perhaps best known for their apologetics.

And though their clever explanations have proved helpful to many (including myself), Christmas is not the time of year for them. It is too miraculous. We cannot explain God becoming a man and, furthermore, being born--of a virgin. We cannot explain the Creator having a mother, angels appearing to shepherds, or the compulsion of a few scholars to follow one lone star such a distance.

At Christmas, accept a miracle. In the words of a woman who seems to understand mystery (even if that is an oxymoron)--"Don't try to explain the Incarnation to me! It is further from being explainable than the furthest star in the furthest galaxy" ~Madeleine L'Engle.

"Capable of being truly shocked"

2009-12-07T14:20:00.003-05:00

"What if, instead of doing something, we were to be something special? Be a womb. Be a dwelling for God. Be surprised." ~Loretta Ross

Today I will meditate on two readings, one from Alfred Delp, a Jesuit priest was imprisoned in a Nazi prison and eventually hung for his opposition to Hitler. The other, from Loretta Ross, a minister in the Presbyterian church, and founder of the Sanctuary Foundation for Prayer. Although on the surface these two writers seem quite different, their Advent message is much the same--which can be summarized, as Delp says, "It is time for a waking up to begin somewhere." And so, we celebrate this coming year after year, we fallen humans needing a constant reminder--or "waking up" to--of reality, that is, the message of the gospel.

But do we even allow ourselves to wake up? Perhaps we drown out the message of Advent--and even blessings from God--by busying ourselves with the season. Our assumption is that celebration and grandeur go hand in hand, and so we put up lights, bake dozens of cookies for people we hardly see all year, bring out the wreaths, and empty our bank accounts. We celebrate Advent by preparing--not our hearts, but our homes. How can Christ possibly break in through the tinsel and mistletoe?

Delp says that "Advent is a time when we ought to be shaken and brought to a realization of ourselves." The realization is that we need God's love. We need Christmas, the arrival of our Savior. Ross points out that we might miss this arrival as we hurry around fulfilling Christmas traditions. But, more importantly, Christ comes anyway.

The challenge from these readings is to examine not only how we celebrate, but what. Ross challenges us saying that "God asks us to give everything of ourselves." Mary, after all, gave her womb (and also her willingness, her belief).

What does all this mean? I confess, I don't plan on giving up Christmas traditions. I probably won't give up any of them (even that silly pickle ornament). But I hope--I pray--my focus will be right. That I will not be thinking about all the things that go into this season, but my own poverty, and how desperately my heart needs to dwell in this special arrival.

The darkness shall not overcome it...

2009-12-03T20:15:00.002-05:00

Today's reading, by Isaac Penington, is a meditation on one of the Christian ideas that I most resonate with--Christ as light in the darkness. I've always loved this imagery, but I first realized its power when studying Asian literature in college, and read about Surya, the Hindu sun god, or god of light. Reading poetry on him, I was struck by how meaningful the image of light would be to any person, no matter their race or culture. The God of Light is universal.

And Christ claims this truth. He is the light--a substance so infinitely attractive.

Penington muses, "But of what nature is this light which shineth in man in his dark state? It is of a living nature; it is light which flows from life." And so in Jesus, true life is found. When we receive his light, we receive life.

Penington points out that this light is life-giving, opposed to just knowledge-giving. We usually associate illumination with the acquisition of some new information or even wisdom. But as Paul points out in 1 Corinthians,

Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?...Christ [is] the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishess of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength. (1:20,24-25)

This is the light of God. I have always thought of the light in the darkness primarily in aesthetic terms, but also as a sort-of guide. But Christ's light is more than that. It is beyond this world.

And so, he who came into this world will give us life beyond it.

The Divine Dawning by Karl Rahner

2009-12-02T20:56:00.002-05:00

Today's reading takes the form of a prayer, as Rahner rambles at length to God on the topic of Advent. It seems that Rahner covers all the bases, including, what seems to me, doubt, as here:

"Are you the eternal Advent? Are you he who is always still to come, but never arrives in such a way as to fulfill our expectations? Are you the infinitely distant One who can never be reached?"

Rahner is wondering what the Advent of God really means. What does it mean that we wait, and what does it mean that God himself--he who has no beginning and end--has an arrival? Surely God can't just show up on the scene--he's been here all along.

Rahner's understanding--or faith--seems to grow as he prays, eventually saying,

"It is said that you will come again, and this is true. But the word again is misleading. It won't really be 'another' coming, because you have never really gone away. In the human existence that you made your own for all eternity, you have never left us."

Why then, do we celebrate Advent, why do we celebrate Christmas? Perhaps it is more about us drawing close to God. It is our arrival in relationship with him. He is already here.

Annunciation

2009-11-30T17:07:00.003-05:00

Last year, I discovered a little book on the shelves in my family's study, called Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas. This book is a compilation of writings by various authors, one for each day of Advent. Glancing through the table of contents, I saw names like Henri Nouwen, Madeleine L'Engle, Gerard Manly Hopkins, C.S. Lewis, and even Sylvia Plath. I thought that this must be the best anthology in the world, and couldn't wait to dive in!

Sadly, I discovered it on Christmas Day.

So, this year, when Advent came around, I was ready. And I am still so excited to read what so many wonderful poets and thinkers before have had to say, and to contemplate what they mean in my thinking on the "arrival" of the Christ.

Today's reading was from a dearly beloved author, Kathleen Norris, an essay called, Annunciation. Norris begins talking about the importance of mystery, for isn't that what the Annunciation (or God's "announcement" to Mary) is?

Sometimes, Norris explains, Christians try to explain away all the mystery, all the unknown. In the name of apologetics, we want answers.

There doesn't always have to be an answer.

When we get rid of the mystery, Norris says that it, "reflects an idolatry of ourselves, that is, the notion that the measure of what we can understand, what is readily comprehensible and acceptable to us, is also the measure of God." Our minds do not and cannot reflect the measure of God. So perhaps we should rest in the unknown, knowing only that our ignorance is ok.

For Norris, she found this rest in poetry long before she found it in the Christian faith. Poets have a different view of reality than the rest of the world, and I, too, find it resonates with me. For some time I have felt that "metaphor is my reality," a sentiment Norris feels when she writes, "I am glad that many artists and poets are still willing to explore the metaphor (and by that I mean the truth) of the Virgin Birth." What else is a metaphor than the assertion of truth from a different angle? When Billy Collins says in his poem "Snow Day":

Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,

its white flag waving over everything,

we realize he is using a metaphor, equating the snow to a flag. But isn't snow a flag? That seems like a kind of truth to me.

At the risk of rambling, I'll continue, because Norris touches on another important facet of the Annunciation--virginity, though not in its traditional sense. She writes, "It is only when we stop idolizing the illusion of our control over the events of life and recognize our poverty that we become virgin..."

This makes sense to me--thinking of virginity as a giving up of control. I realize this is counter-intuitive--we usually think of self-control as the means through which we practice sexual abstinence, and therefore, remain virgin. But this is both a limiting view of virginity as well as untrue--in fact, if I really believed that I was in control of my own life, chastity would not be my sexual habit of choice.

Virginity, ironically, is a giving of ourselves, first to God, and incidentally, to others. In her book The Cloister Walk, Norris talks to celibate monks and nuns, who explain that the fruit of their virginity is hospitality. They have said "yes" to God, and so they say "yes" to others.

In meditation on the Annunciation, we remember Mary's virginity, and the miracle of the virgin birth. Her virginity is seen just as much in her willingness, her "yes" to God, as in her sexual state.

And what of the Christ? When remembering the Annunciation, we should remember that Jesus is a virgin, too. His was the ultimate virginity. He experience ultimate poverty--the lowering of God to man--and gave ultimately of himself upon the cross.

Advent Begins

2009-11-29T13:15:00.003-05:00

You may be wondering what this Twilight poster has to do with Advent. At church today, my pastor quoted an author using the term "Vampire Christianity," as he talked about the fact that Christians often leave out a big part of what Christ does for us. We remember that he has offered salvation--forgiving all our sins in the past and our eternal life in the future, but we forget that he wants to sanctify us now. In other words, we just want some of Jesus' blood to cover us, but that's all. We don't let his Spirit in to make us more like him. It's a gritty thought, but it makes sense, and is a good reminder.

And timely, at the beginning of Advent, as we wait to celebrate Christ's nativity. Because the Christian faith is not only about Jesus' death, but also about his life. And our lives.

Simple Pleasures

2009-11-15T16:59:00.003-05:00

I had a couple apples on hand that I didn't think I would eat--typically, I don't enjoy red delicious as plain hand fruit. But I knew a way I would eat them--as apple chips.

I made these by slicing apples super thin, spreading them in a single layer on a pan lined with parchment paper, and letting them sit for an hour. I preheated the oven to only 200, sprinkled the apples with sugar, then let them dry in the oven for ~80 minutes. Yum.

My second pleasure was inspired by David Tanis, in his cookbook, a platter of figs. If you are at all interested in food or stories, please--check it out. David divides his book into section based on season, and gives each season six exquisite menus, such as "Supper of the Lamb", "Too Darned Hot, Alors", "Another Early Autumn", and "North African Comfort Food".

But his book isn't just about recipes and menus. David includes delightful stories at the beginning of each menu about various food/travel/entertaining experiences, such as when he attempted to buy the most expensive seats in the house for a ballet when he was in Spain...but ended up in the balcony.

It's from the introduction for "The Bean Soup Lunch" that tonight's inspiration came. David spends six whole paragraphs explaining the proper way to make garlic toast. So, I thought, I will make some. Now, I didn't light a fire outdoors and grill my toast over open coals the way David suggests. But I did use good bread cut into 1/2-inch-thick slices. And after toasting, I brushed with olive oil, and then--this is the part David says is really important--cut a clove of garlic in half, and gently rubbed the cut side against the toast. Then sprinkled with sea salt.

It. was. divine. Perfectly garlic-ed. The very essence of garlic, and not at all overpowering.

An extra challenge

2009-11-15T16:46:00.003-05:00

This weekend, my 16-year-old cousin came to stay with me because his dad was in the hospital. For the purposes of this blog, that meant two dinners and one breakfast that had to be somewhat company worthy, and not too weird. I was planning on eating butternut squash this weekend, but didn't think a teenage boy would look kindly on that as a full meal.

So.

Friday night I served rice and beans with tortillas. The tortillas were homemade, which pushed the meal into the special-enough-for-a-guest sphere, and even though I didn't have any meat, I figure beans have protein.

I had a little meat sauce for pasta leftover from another evening, so I figured that would be a good call for Saturday dinner, but I didn't have quite enough to make it a full meal. So rosemary focaccia was the add-on. As I was putting the dough together, I realized how much flour I've been using lately, so I substituted half a cup of flour with cornmeal--very pleased with the results!

This whole weekend I was tempted to go out and buy something. My mom said she would reimburse me for any food I bought since this was a special circumstance. I kept thinking how much better it would be to just buy some cheese and make a full-blown pizza instead of plain foccacia. Or just some ground meat to make chili. Whatever. But I decided not to. I see "hospitality on a budget" as part of the challenge.

Company.

2009-11-12T20:32:00.004-05:00

Last night I had a (male) friend for dinner, someone whom I know appreciates meat. But I also knew I couldn't go out and buy any. Thankfully, I had a roast in the freezer. And there are few things I love more than beef braised in red wine and tomato. Served with mashed potatoes and carrots. So delish. And so fun to offer a nice meal to a friend.

After dinner, we went to Evensong at St. Stephen's, which is so peaceful and precious. Many of the songs we sang just reminded me how I can rely on God. I hope he shows me this more and more.

And tonight has been low-key. I've been pretty tired--fell asleep after work--so although I haven't felt cooking much (plus, I have so many leftovers lying around!), I needed something comforting. Bok choy with sauteed with chile does it for me.

Obsession.

2009-11-11T16:28:00.003-05:00

Pictured above are two of the food items I consumed yesterday. Fried green tomatoes with crumbled blue cheese for dinner and then I also made some sundried tomato spread for toast and sandwiches etc.

But I have to confess--yesterday, I ate A LOT. I'm not even going to list everything here, but I may have gained 5 pounds. See, I found that, instead of thinking about food less, I was thinking about it more. Much more. This is not supposed to be the point of my challenge. The point is to know what it's like not to have things anytime I want them. The point is to think about food less.

But I've realized--I am so used to being a consumer, to having whatever food I want whenever I think of it, that it's been hard for me just to know that--I can't. Don't get me wrong, I've been eating wonderful, delicious things. But, I can't eat: bacon. rigatoni. cheddar. kale. ice cream. because I don't have those things. And so I try to make do by stuffing myself with other things.

Wrong. I should--I can--make do by stuffing myself with God. Anytime I feel hungry for something I don't have (and, in some cases, anytime I feel hungry period), I should pray. I should recognize that yes, I am making a sacrifice, and that yes, God is the one who will sustain me. Not fried potatoes at 10 pm.

When I came home from school today, I didn't start the eating frenzy. I'd already prayed earlier in the day for God to sustain me. And he is.

Be on the lookout later for an exciting post about tonight's dinner!

A Little German

2009-11-09T17:59:00.003-05:00

I'm still feeling enthusiastic about my eating plan...of course, I'm only a day into it! And I haven't stopped looking at cookbooks, so I inevitably see things I'd love to make. But I still ate quite well.

Lunch:

Rotelle pasta salad with olives and red onions. And butternut squash sauteed with onion and chilies. Yum! I still have three whole squashes left, so be on the lookout for some more squash concoctions coming your way!

And dinner:

The sauerkraut is homemade by my grandparents, and absolutely delicious! And then potato pancakes. One of my top ways of eating pancakes. I added some grated beet in with the potatoes so my meal wouldn't be monochromatic! With a beer, very much the German theme for dinner. Of course, it's not a true German meal as it's lacking sausages or pork of some kind...but I didn't have any on hand! That's one thing you'll notice over the next two weeks...not much meat! I think it will actually be kind of hard for me. Meat isn't my favorite thing to cook, but I do like eating it!

A Challenge

2009-11-09T11:26:00.003-05:00

Hello again! I've decided to put an end to my blogging silence. My motivation is to keep myself accountable to something I've been thinking about a lot lately--namely, money. As a substitute teacher working unsalaried for a day-to-day rate, I can't say money is something I have a lot of, but lately my perspective on that has been changing. For the past month, the young adults in my church have met each week for Theology on Tap, and each week we hear a different speaker from organizations in Pittsburgh--Coro Center for Civic Leadership, Shepherd's Heart, Pittsburgh Project, and World Vision. These are all organizations that work with people in Pittsburgh (and in the case of World Vision, around the world) who live in poverty. Each week, I walk away very moved, and I've realized--

I have a lot.

Compared to most people on this planet, I am rich. It is easy for me to forget this living in Sewickley, where in comparison to others in my community, I am not. But my sense of what I have is changing drastically. It is easy to forget exactly how much I have because I am not confronted with people who have less. I simply don't see these people, because they are not where I live. But they are there. And I don't want to forget about them anymore.

Having said all this, I wasn't sure exactly what I could do. The need is so great. I am so little.

But maybe that's the point.

So I've decided to rely more on God. And I think the only way that can I happen is if I give a little more sacrificially. If I live a little more sacrificially. Yesterday's sermon at church was on the story of the poor widow who gave all she had. It was only two small coins, but Jesus said it was the biggest offering.

I'll be honest, I don't think I can give all I have. I don't have that much faith. But I do want to give so it hurts a little. And so I decided, that until my next paycheck (which in two weeks--Nov. 20th), I am not going to buy any food. I have enough food in my house to sustain me for two weeks. I have enough food in my house to sustain me for more than two weeks.

Maybe this shouldn't seem like a big sacrifice. I won't ever be hungry. I just went and counted--there are 12 boxes (that's 12 pounds!) of pasta alone in my cupboard. Not to mention rice, flour, butter, eggs, etc., etc. But you know me--I love food! I love to cook. I read cookbooks everyday, and I'm always making new things. Often, I need a few new ingredients to make those things--and that's where I'm limiting myself. I can make only what I have. And with the money I save, I can give to people that don't have enough to buy food.

I know it will be hard, but I'm excited! This will force me to be creative. And I hope, be more thankful for what I do have, and all God's wonderful provision in my life. So, here it goes! Check back often for updates on what I'm actually eating! Last night it was tuna fish spaghetti. Here's a picture of today's snack, buttered toast with shards of parmesan. See, I'm blessed already!

A Crust of a Hint.

2008-07-29T13:29:00.004-04:00

I am fortunate enough to have berries all summer long. In late June the black raspberries start popping up everywhere, and when they fade out at the end of July, blackberries happily take their place. With so many berries, I've been baking all summer. Berry muffins, berry pancakes, berry crostatas. I consider a crostata to be my easiest dessert. Roll out a pie crust, throw down some fruit, sprinkle with sugar, fold up the sides and bake. Simple. I know many people would not agree with me. I'm always reading the woes of fellow bakers who can't make a good pie crust. In all honesty, I've never understood the frustration. Pie crusts always come out marvelously for me. When I began making them, I always followed a recipe, usually from Barefoot Contessa or Joy of Cooking. Eventually, I did it so much I didn't need a recipe. I do it from memory, a conglomeration of every recipe I've ever read. As such, my crusts are slightly different every time. Though always good, I've finally stumbled on what I deep to be the winner. In an attempt to make all of you love the art of the pie crust as much as I do, I'm going to share my recipe here. This is how I do it, from start to finish:

Before you get any of your other ingredients together, get out your butter and shortening (I use Crisco). Cut four T of butter and four T of shortening into squares and put in a bowl. Put this in the freezer along with some water while you prepare the rest of the crust. It is important for the butter and water to be very cold.
Measure out a little over one cup of all-purpose flour into a bowl. I recently received these measuring cups. Although they're adorable, The cup measure is actually closer to 1 1/4 cup. That's the one I used for my crust and it was perfect. Sprinkle in a dash of salt and 1/4 c of sugar.
Now get the butter/shortening out of the freezer. Using your fingers (I always do this by hand), incorporate the butter into the flour mixture until it resembles rolled oats or little peas.
Get your cold water and pour in about 2-4 T (sorry, I never measure). Incorporate (with your hands) until a soft dough is formed. Wrap in wax paper and put in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.
Roll out between two pieces of wax paper
Put fruit on top. Sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon if desired. Roll up the crust around the fruit. It won't cover all of it.
Bake at 400 for around 30 minutes.

It is certainly not necessary to arrange the fruit as I have here. But I'm a tart lover at heart and can't resist making such beautiful displays.

Sailing

2008-07-28T09:45:00.003-04:00

Saturday was the perfect day to go for a sail. I feel lucky that living in Pennsylvania I was able to do this, but there's a great state park nearby with a glorious lake for sailing. I hadn't sailed since I was about 13 and did a sailing camp with my friend who'd moved to Florida. I didn't really remember any of the necessary skills, which was perfectly alright, as it wasn't my boat and I wasn't in charge. Just along for the ride. In my opinion, that's the best way to sail. I don't feel the need to learn how to do it for myself. I was content just lay at the front of the boat and look up at the beautiful sails on our boat. We were definitely the best dressed boat out there that day.

Make Drinking More Fun

2008-07-23T20:06:00.000-04:00

No, in this case I'm not talking about alcohol. If I were, this post would be quite different. Usually alcohol is what we use to make other things more fun. To make alcohol per se more fun, all you really need is a person or two to flirt with. But what about the every day? What about orange juice (and we're not talking mimosas)? I'm usually not much of an orange juice drinker, but now that I have this fun juicer, I feel like drinking it everyday. This clever two part juicer is pretty and practical. Just juice the orange halves on top and the juice falls through tiny holes, which block seeds and allow pure Florida sunshine to fall into the bottom (which also has an easy-pour spout).

Those of you who know me know that I am a big tea drinker. I usually go through a pot a day. Sometimes more. Tea is already fun. There are loads of options and it comes with great accessories--tea pots and cups. But I just got one accessory that goes beyond these staples. And it makes tea even more fun. A lovely tea cup caddy is the perfect way to store and display delicate tea cups.

An Alliterative Age

2008-07-20T12:07:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I turned 22. This was the year I thought birthdays wouldn't be as important anymore. I've hit all the big ones--16, 18, 21. All that's left for me are the decades. 30. 40. 50....80? I was wrong. Birthdays for me just get better and better each year. This year was no exception. To start, I must say I've had some pretty good birthdays. As a girl, I started getting excited for my July birthday sometime in February, because that's when my sister's was. I had fun, elaborate, but not excessive birthday parties, which always included a treasure hunt and a sleepover. One year I even had a Hawaiian luau, complete with shrimp, pineapple, grass skirts, and the hula. When I turned 13 I had a surprise party. When I turned 18 I was in Florida visiting my friend Catherine. We ushered in my birthday by having a picnic breakfast on the beach to watch the sunrise. To say I've had some great birthdays would be an understatement. This year, I thought it would end. Not in a sad, wistful way, but in a "life goes on" way. I can't be a kid forever. It has to end sometime. But what yesterday really told me is that it doesn't. I can be a kid forever. I will be.

My birthday began when I woke up around 9. Dad was at work, Mom was out, and my siblings were asleep. I read my Bible and did some journaling. I then decided to make some blueberry/black raspberry muffins for breakfast. Right as I was putting them, Mom walked in the door. "Hey birthday girl, how about some red raspberries and whipped cream?" Um, yes. We had a glorious tea party with the muffins, raspberries and whipped cream. I couldn't stop smiling.

Little raspberry soldiers.

That wasn't the end of my day. At the farmer's market I got fresh peas for my lunch, and basil so spicy and fragrant, I smelled it before I saw it.

The rest of my day was spent in the sunshine, and then off to Mullaney's Harp & Fiddle for Irish whiskey, beer, music and dinner. After dinner, my family presented me with an array of glorious gifts. I now have enough anthropologie to start my own kitchenware store. Or at least my own kitchen.

Color

2008-07-11T12:06:00.000-04:00

I'm a color person. I love bright colors. I love to see them, I love to wear them. For example, I love this cheery hibiscus:

Although I often gravitate toward colors of this caliber, like every rule there are exceptions. Some days a soft lavender or faded gold are just what I'm looking for. I like black. And I even like gray. Love it, actually. In the winter, it's one of the colors I'm most drawn to.

But one color I've never been much for is brown. Brown has always seemed the most bland and boring color. Even its name seems unfortunate. Cream is also a boring color, but at least it sounds lovely.

Imagine my surprise when this caught my eye:

I was sweeping the floor yesterday and had to stop when I saw this, the biggest moth I have ever seen with my own eyes. The floor is brown and the moth is brown, but it still seemed rather exciting. This moth was half the size of my palm. And it just sat there. I was right next to it and it didn't fly away. I thought maybe it was dead, but when I touched it, this happened:

I know those large dots are nature's way of protecting innocent moths. They're meant to look like eyes and scare away predators. But they charmed me. I couldn't help but stare. How miraculous that something so beautiful could be hidden underneath all that brown. It strikes me now that the flower and the moth have something in common--both are accented by the same saffron-y, golden-y yellow. Which shows that when a color has a good supporting actor, it can always be a star. Even brown.

I eat my peas with...

2008-07-06T20:16:00.000-04:00

Ravioli. It's been awhile since I made fresh pasta, so I decided to last night. I'm on a search for the best dough recipe. Usually, regular flour doesn't give me quite the results I'd like, so I tried using semolina flour, and was met with success. Next time, however, I think I'd like to try a combination of the two. For those interested, the exact recipe was a cup of semolina flour, one egg, 1-2tsp of olive oil and 1-2tsp of water. I kneaded the dough for a couple minutes then let it sit while I prepared the filling. I know some people add eggs to their ricotta, but I kept it simple with just a bit of salt, a good sprinkling of fresh ground pepper, and a generous chiffonade of basil leaves. The basil was the perfect ingredient to push the ravioli into the realm of all things wonderful. I used a roller to roll out sheets of pasta, put dollops of filling on half and folded the other half over. I cut the squares out with a knife and used the tines of a fork to make sure they were sealed. I kept the ravioli in the freezer while waiting for the water to boil, and dropped them in the salted boiling water for about three minutes. Success.

The peas were fresh from the Sewickley Farmer's Market, and were simply delicious sauteed in butter and sprinkled with freshly grated Parmesan cheese. A lovely summer dinner.

80

2008-07-05T17:27:00.000-04:00

Last weekend was my Grandma Marie's 80th birthday. We had a huge surprise party for her with extended family from out of town, and of course, lots and lots of food. Though I had my hand in on the party, as did all seven of grandma's children, it was mostly a success because of the superb planning skills of my mother, the middle child. We had a white tent in our yard, flowers and old pictures everywhere, and my mom walked around serving her now-famous breadsticks and polenta to everyone.

That's my grandma up there. All took was one person to say, "Marie, get up and dance," for her to stand up, kick off her shoes, and start to move. I hope I still love life as much in sixty years.

Into the Future

2008-06-22T23:03:00.000-04:00

Friday night I went down to Pittsburgh to check out a bit of the Arts Festival. It was great to see all the artisans' booths, and was especially exciting to see so many young people trying to make a living by creating something. It was also great to see so many different people milling about. Endless people watching. In hindsight, it makes me think a bit about myself. Who am I? Not sure exactly. I've entered into a phase in life where I seem to be discovering and (hopefully) falling in love with myself all over again. I make lists of what I like and don't like, trying to figure out who this person is. I like lavender, poppies, rosemary, Italy, Mary Oliver, and yellow. I don't like bananas, Faulkner, or taupe. I hope to figure out what sort of person I'd like to be. I think I'm on a good road to discovery.

Think Green

2008-06-18T15:25:00.000-04:00

Cabbage is a humble vegetable. Rarely does anyone raise a flag for it. Many turn up their noses at sauerkraut. Save coleslaw, few people ever eat cabbage, except maybe boiled with potatoes on St. Patrick's Day. I consider this a tragedy. I have recently decided that cabbage is one of my favorite vegetables, and lucky for me, as it's also very inexpensive. It all started when I was flipping through one of my favorite cookbooks, The Silver Palate Goodtimes Cookbook, and came across a recipe Que Sera Silk Salad. Intrigued, I skimmed the ingredients, and saw that the main one was cabbage. I started talking to myself about how I needed some, when my mom pulled a head of cabbage out of the fridge. Lucky me. This particular recipe required soaking shredded cabbage in salt water for hours so it would take on a silky consistency. It was delicious. But my favorite way to eat cabbage? Sauteed in a pan with some butter, salt, and pepper. Simple. Heavenly.

Vacation

2008-06-16T22:18:00.000-04:00

I returned home from Kiawah Island, SC on Saturday. It was incredibly relaxing. I spent most of my time reading travel/food books, and I even did a bit of writing. I wrote this poem (still in the works, though) for this view (though at a different time of day).

The sun looks like and orange eye as it lowers

and peeks at me through the thick tress on the small island

floating in the river across from me

while a heron matches the river in blue, doing nothing

but parading through the marsh grass like a guard on duty

and he notes that all is in order, for the tide is rising steadily,

making invisible the sandbar that I saw only an hour earlier,

while next to me the fiddler crabs scurry about, their large claws raised

and ready to do battle with the incoming tide

that is threatening to dilapidate the shoreline

but only for now, because by morning tomorrow the water

will not seem dangerous anymore, as it folds down

to reveal the jagged line of oyster shells, a minature fortress baricade

or Great Wall of China, but for now, they are just shells,

hiding beneath the river, afraid of the night.

Next to me, a family poses for a group photo,

trying to capture the moment.

One of my favorite parts of vacation is the Oyster Roast. Everyone stands around at great wooden spools, which are piled high with fresh oysters, roasted in fire pits right there. Take a knife, crack one open, douse it with lemon and hot sauce, suck it out of the shell. Delicious. But the best part of the night is dancing and dancing and dancing with my dad to the live island band.

L'Arancia

2008-06-05T23:20:00.000-04:00

I confess to being a sporadic blogger, a fact which needs no confession--it should be clear to anyone upon glancing at the frequency of previous entries. I would like to change that. My inspiration for this blog, was of course the fabulous yarnstorm, and though I will never reach such blogging mastery, I would like to try a little harder. Tonight I was inspired by a friend who began a blog and shared it with me. It was such a dear experience and entry into part of his life, that I would like to provide the same for others.

I actually took these pictures a bit ago with intent of sharing them here. One of the great joys of summer--life, really--is food. How refreshing for me especially after years of cafeteria cooking. Now I can choose what I eat. Recently, this choice led to oranges. But not just any old oranges. The day before I took these pictures, I was making cookies with my Italian grandma and her sister. Interspersed with singing along in Latin to Andrea Bocelli, they talked, talked, talked. My grandma spoke of eating an orange just this way--with olive oil and mint. Since I have an abundance of mint, I decided to give it a try. Pure bliss. Especially with a glass of vino rosso. Always perfect.

Of course, I can't wait to see blood oranges in the market again...

Irish.

2008-03-18T15:12:00.000-04:00

So what's a girl to do when she's home alone on St. Patrick's Day? Well, throw on a festive apron, and get to work! I began with lemon squares. Not exactly festive, I know, but I make them so rarely, and they're so delicious, that I thought they'd be celebratory enough. Perhaps St. Patrick liked a good ol' lemon square (nevermind the fact that he probably never had one). I made a real feast for dinner, so much that I've been munching on leftovers all today as well. To begin, Irish Soda Bread. I never actually made Irish Soda Bread before, but it turned out wonderfully. A real treat. I had some leftover boiled vegetables (carrots, turnips, parsnips) from the family St. Patrick celebration a few days earlier, so I jazzed them up and made a wonderful Irish vegetable soup with crumbled bacon on top. Fantastic. And it wouldn't be Irish without potatoes, so I made some scalloped potatoes with cheddar cheese and onions, that tasted even better the next day.

Raw material for the lemon squares. Beautiful.

My lovely Irish feast for one.

Pale orange and green, subtly festive.

The celebration continues with breakfast.

Of course, I know St. Patrick's Day isn't just about being Irish or Irish food or wearing green (though if someone ever wants to drink a beer in my honor, I won't stop him). St. Patrick did some great things, and he deserves to be remembered. I prayed his breastplate prayer this morning. Here's part of it:

I arise today through a mighty strength,
The invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of creation.

...

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in very eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me

A fresh start

2008-03-04T00:48:00.000-05:00

Ah...at last, spring is in the air. Of course, it probably won't last for long, but the fresh burst of sunshine was as refreshing and cheery as this colorful bouquet. As they say, March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb...well, to spin the saying my own way, I'd like to say that the sunshine was certainly clawing and roaring its way into existence today.

In keeping with last Spring's tradition, I've decided to keep up with the sun dress photos. May the whole world know that I embraced the sun today:

And in a lemon drop bathroom, no less. Keep turning, baby.

"By noon, the ice as thin as an eggshell veined to show life seeping yellow" ~Mary Jo Salter

Staying Warm

2007-04-16T20:56:00.000-04:00

Seasonal Affective Disorder--it's real, you know. I think anyone who lives in Grove City, Pennsylvania can testify to that fact right now. I'm not sure why it's snowing in the middle of April, but I don't like it one bit. As Dr. Graham said to me last Wednesday--"Eliot was right, 'April is the cruelest month.'" Never has a poet spoken truer words.

Today Suzanne and I looked out the window to see a poor fellow walking to the cafeteria wrapped in a blanket. I barely resisted the urge to do the same.

I admit to procrastinating on my pile of work tonight and checking out James Joyce's Dubliners from the library. I curled up and read the first story, and it was much like the weather. Paralysis--a key image in the story. I think the weather makes me feel much the same way, gray and weak.

There is one perk I can think of to the cold. Hot tea--one of my truest loves. Were the sun out, I may not feel like it as much. So the best I can do is drink up and make sure to use cheery floral mugs.

Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

2007-03-27T22:58:00.000-04:00

'Twas the theme for the day and this was the dress:

As long as the weather cooperates, I shall keep up with wearing and posting joyous spring dresses.
Note that these pictures were taken prior to the massive rain (and hail!) storm we experienced today. I happened to be outside on a blanket when the rain began. I was trying to read and Ross was trying to study, except I kept interrupting him with laughter at the sheer magic of the day. We sensed the rain 'a coming and I knew a rain dance was in order. The first drops fell and I twirled in delight. Eventually, I made it inside to my room, but I couldn't stay put. I ran back out into the rain, running and dancing with delight. My dress stuck to my body like a peel to a banana, but 'twas glorious.
And throughout it all, this was the song running through my mind:

Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair. In '77 and '69 revolution was in the air. I was born too late, to a world that doesn't care, oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.

Much love to Chase for inadvertently introducing me to the song, as well as being all-around fabulous.

Spring!

2007-03-26T17:48:00.000-04:00

Everyone always hears about spring cleaning, but I wonder--how many people actually do it? A lot, I suppose, but not being much of a cleaner myself, the concept was never a reality. But today I went through the large pile of clothes on my floor and in my closet and organized. The picture above is my closet arranged by ROY G BIV and ready for spring. Every dress on that hanger has been anticipating sunshine all winter. It's finally here. This dress was certainly glad to get out to play today:

Wishing you a colorful spring!

Happy Valentine's Day!

2007-02-14T15:33:00.000-05:00

open your heart:

i'll give you a treasure

of tiniest world

a piece of forever

-e.e. cummings

Pre-Extravaganza

2007-02-10T13:14:00.000-05:00

Suzanne didn't want to go to the Extravaganza with me, but she did. Whenever my friends do nice things they don't want to do, I tell them I'm just giving them the opportunity to be like Christ, ha! In any case, she got all beautiful and came out with me in the cold. But first we took this wonderful photo. I love how we're both wearing blues. And yes, we did our ridiculous two-person sorority greeting in the middle of the dance floor. Excellent.

He didn't see his shadow

2007-02-03T10:15:00.000-05:00

A groundhog lineup

Yarn.

2007-01-24T07:50:00.000-05:00

It is good to be back at school after a long break. After a month, I really was looking forward to going to classes and being back in a more "intellectual" environment (despite the mindless classes like Technology of Instruction, for example).

But it was good to be home as well, where I had the opportunity to practice more domestic pusuits, namely, knitting and cooking. The balls of yarn pictured here are on their way to becoming a tank top and legwarmers right now. But I couldn't resist sharing the simple beauty of these lovely colors with you. A ball of cotton yarn by Blue Sky is a treat indeed.

They're Too Much...

2006-12-13T20:22:00.000-05:00

I feel compelled to write this entry because I feel as though many poor souls are missing out on of the great Christmas joys that so fills my heart with warmth...and cold, for that matter. The joy of which I speak is a Christmas movie in the same vein of Rudolph called "The Year Without a Santa Claus." To be honest, I remember very little of the plot. But this movie is significant for two very important and ridiculous brothers--The Snow Miser and Heat Miser. They are two opposite brothers and they sing an amazing song. For your pleasure I have included pictures of these classy characters.

I'm Mister White Christmas, I'm Mister Snow! I'm Mister Icicle, I'm Mister Ten Below! Friends call me Snow Miser, Whatever I touch turns to snow in my clutch! I'm too much!

I'm Mister Green Christmas, I'm Mister Sun! I'm Mister Heat Blister, I'm Mister Hundred and One! They call me Heat Miser, Whatever I touch starts to melt in my clutch! I'm too much!

Being Festive

2006-12-10T22:30:00.000-05:00

I'm so sneaky...

He was a good boy this year

Now perhaps many of you know that I am a festive person. I am festive when it comes to many holidays (read: Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day--all those fun saints), but Christmas is an especially big one, right? Perhaps you've received a Christmas card from me in the past, or have seen me in festive clothing. But what you may not know is that I also act as a Christmas elf. No, not one of those elves that pass out candy canes in department stores and wear more felt than is healthy for one human being. I have the priviledge of being elf to certain boys that hang their stockings on the door to their dorm. It all began last year. I don't know how, but my friend Chase somehow let it slip that he and his roommates, Aaron and Dan, had hung their stockings, maybe I could fill them? This seemed like a great idea, and fill them I did. And yesterday the time came for me to repeat this gesture of Christmas cheer. The roommates have changed slightly, and the boys (read: strapping young men) were: Chase, Aaron, Dan, and Shaun. So filled the stockings with lots of goodies. Here are the gentlement sporting one of the best stocking stuffers I know: Banana Republic boxers.

Shaun, Dan, Chase, and Aaron

And here's a little blast from the past:
Christmas elf, circa 2005

A Poetry Reading

2006-12-05T13:51:00.000-05:00

I must admit, I've been a bit lax in the schoolwork area of my life lately. All of a sudden, I find so much to do, and wonder how it will ever be accomplished. Nevertheless, I never fully regret the things I do instead of the work. Yesterday, this consisted in large part of baking cookies for a poetry reading put on by the Echo, and then reading my poetry there as well. Two opportunities for creativity, culinary and literary.

What could be better, really? When I find myself at the front of a wood-panelled room, filled with 50 people eating cookies, all rapt and at attention as I read...well, that is life.

A Sunday

2006-12-04T10:26:00.000-05:00

I did the reading at church this Sunday. Zechariah 14:4-9. Kind of a random passage, but it has ended up meaning a lot to me.

See, my friend Nike asked me if I would do the reading, and she gave me the reference on a slip of paper. Well, at the time I was talking to her and Elanor about a conversation I'd just had with the guy I used to date. And so I thought she was giving me some encouraging verses. But when I went back to my room and started to read, I was a bit confused. Until I got to verse six, which says:

On that day the sources of light will no longer shine, yet there will be continuous day! Only the LORD knows how this could happen! (New Living Translation)

I feel as if those verses perfectly describe my life right now. It's as if I know that God is going to change my situation. But the change he's going to do is something crazy. Something crazy like a sunless day. But he knows how it's going to happen. He knows, and it's ok that I don't.

The ESV translation we use at church says it like this:

On that day there shall be no light, cold, or frost. And there shall be a unique day, which is known to the LORD, neither day nor night, but at evening time there shall be light.

God is there. Through all those unique days. Those unique days that I just don't get. God does. And that is enough. Amen.

Stripe-a-licious

2006-11-15T13:27:00.000-05:00

Ok, I know I'm not supposed to be posting now, but I couldn't resist some fun photos...

I guess you could say we're a beat generation...

2006-11-14T13:50:00.000-05:00

I just want everyone to know that there's a reason that my posts have been and will be sparse for a few days--I'm working on a paper. When I'm not immersing myself in the era of the beatniks, I'm at one meeting or another.

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix.

-Allen Ginsberg, opening lines of "Howl"

Walls

2006-11-12T14:02:00.000-05:00

I have a little alcove in my room. I sit at my desk, a bed to my front, Joyce's desk to my left, and a wall to my right and back. These walls are important. Or rather, what's on them is important. I just keep smacking things up there, but everything is significant in some way, even if the significance is merely beauty.

The city of Florence is a key contributor to my walls. To my back, the statue of David, a placemat with the Duomo. To my right, a map of the city and a piece of marbleized paper that I watched the man at Il Papiro make. Io l'amo.

To my right, a tree motif has somehow developed. Three posters I made with the following poems: Arbole, Arbole by Garcia Lorca, i thank you God for most this amazing by e.e. cummings, and Birches by Robert Frost. Tree images in all the poems. A tree on all the posters. Not to mention a tree-themed thank-you from Paul and Laura, a beautiful autumn leaf, and a random tree I made with torn paper.

What else? Various Mary Engelbreit posters. Postcards with the words HOPE, LOVE, and SMILE. Cards from people I love. A quote from C.S. Lewis. A poster about being a girl. Pictures from the anthropologie catalog. An ad for Moonlit Rose body spray, which I've never tried, but the description is me to a T. A Dove chocolate wrapper proclaiming, "Naughty can be nice." a save the date card for Jon and Rachel's wedding. An invitation to the mixed company meeting of the Men's High Life Society. A picture of me and Jeff looking like hippies. That is all. But more is being added all the time.

Not to mention the quotes in caligraphy hanging from my bed. The picture of Audrey Hepburn. The picture of prayers in Jerusalem's Western Wall. The pictures of my family and two old friends. Sundry craft supplies strewn across my desk and the surrounding floor. A box of Hello Kitty sandwich bags. A honey bear. A Bible. Rice cakes. Nailclippers. A pink pashmina. An origami flower. Argyle socks. Books about beat poetry.

It's good to live in an alcove.

Sempre Girasole

Noodle Bowl

Kitchen Rituals

Summer Tomato

New riff on something great

Squash Interpretations

American Pie

Simple Pleasures

Spring Eating

'Tis a gift to be simple

Homemade.

How to use up that open bottle of wine

Homage to the turnip

Late-Night Mexican

After School Snack

Convert.

Sometimes food is just beautiful...

Indian in a Flash

Garbage Disposal Chowder

Developing Dessert

Summer in a glass

Family Feast

An old married couple

Comfort Food

Umami, or, why our senses matter

Remembering summer one bite at a time

Birthday Treats

Crabbiness is next to godliness

Summer Lovin'

Spotlight on: shrimp

Spotlight on: rosemary

What's a food blog, anyway?

Something I love about spring

A Food Rant

Cooking for One: India

Cooking for one advice--eat like an Italian peasant

What I've been up to

Cooking for One

Popular Question

Learn something new

Romantic Dinner for One

Exceptional Love

Revolutionary Thinking

Tools of the trade

From the roots, grow branches

Snowy Thoughts

A Feast for One

Mystery

"Capable of being truly shocked"

The darkness shall not overcome it...

The Divine Dawning by Karl Rahner

Annunciation

Advent Begins

Simple Pleasures

An extra challenge

Company.

Obsession.

A Little German

A Challenge

A Crust of a Hint.

Sailing

Make Drinking More Fun

An Alliterative Age

Color

I eat my peas with...

80

Into the Future

Think Green

Vacation

L'Arancia

Irish.

A fresh start

Staying Warm

Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

Spring!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Pre-Extravaganza

He didn't see his shadow

Yarn.

They're Too Much...