Hide the cheese

Poblano Pepper and Potato Tacos

One of the food highlights from out our trip out west this spring was a taco truck in the middle of nowhere.

At the end of our trip to Yosemite, we asked one of the park rangers if he had any suggestions for one last hike on our way out. He suggested an out of the way wildflower walk that was stunning, a path along a steep hill dotted with wildflowers that ended in a rushing river.

He also recommended a taco truck. Recommended is too soft a word. He raved about a taco truck, saying that he was a taco aficionado and that he had traveled all through California and Mexico looking for the best taco. And he found it, just outside Yosemite.

We couldn't resist. So after our wildflower hike, we found the truck parked in the parking lot of a convenience store: Ramon's Tacos. I was afraid that the vegetarian options might not be as good as the hype, but both the tacos and burritos were excellent. Truly the best I have ever had, although I am definitely not an expert. For me, one of the highlights was the tortilla, which was fresh and tasty, so unlike the gummy version that we often get here. Ramon also served the tacos with a slice of lemon which we squeezed over top of the tacos to make them even better.

I have heard that around here, there are some authentic Mexican restaurants in Riverdale, Maryland, including La Placita, which I'm eager to try. I'd also love to find a good source of tortillas; otherwise, I may have to figure out how to make my own.

In the meantime, the experience motivated me to step up taco night at home. This filling idea came from tacos at Loteria in the Farmers' Market in Los Angeles. Oscar and I had them when we visited there last year. They're hearty and the peppers are not spicy, but are loaded with flavor. They make an excellent alternative to our usual refried bean filling. 

If you go to Yosemite, leave through the southwest side of the park on Route 140 and stop by Ramon's. It's at the corner of Highway 140 and Plainsburg Road in Planada. And bring one back for me.

2009: Radish Tartines
2010: Gruyère-Stuffed French Toast
2011: Cilantro Rice, Chipotle-Style

Poblano Pepper and Potato Tacos

Makes enough filling for 8-10 tacos
10 minutes preparation time
20  minutes cooking time

2 poblano peppers
splash of olive oil
4 medium-sized potatoes, peeled and cubed
3 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped finely
1 tablespoon finely chopped oregano
salt and pepper to taste
8-10 tortillas
1 lemon, cut into wedges

Line a baking sheet with foil or parchment paper. Heat the oven to broil. Broil the peppers until they are blackened, turning them so that they are broiled on all sides. Remove them from the oven and set them aside to cool. When they are cool enough to touch, peel off the skins and remove the seeds and stem. Coarsely chop them.

Heat the oil in a large sauté pan over medium heat. Add the potato cubes and cook for a few minutes, just until they begin to brown. Add the garlic, salt and pepper, and enough water just to cover the potatoes. Bring them to a simmer. Cook until the potatoes are tender but retain their shape, about 15 minutes. Add the chopped poblano and heat just for a minute until the mixture has warmed through. Add the oregano and stir.

Serve straight up in a warm tortilla with a squeeze of lemon or add any other toppings that make you happy.

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Oscar's Strawberry Milkshakes

Rhubarb-Grapefruit Jam

Ricky and Lucy. Gracie and George. Tom and Jerry. Felix and Oscar. Sonny and Cher. Donny and Marie.

Unlikely pairs that make magic together. (Ok, maybe they weren't all magic, but they were all entertaining).

Rhubarb and grapefruit may seem like an odd couple, too, but they are delicious together. The rhubarb is tart right off the bat, hitting immediately with an intense burst of flavor. The grapefruit hangs back and as soon as the rhubarb begins to retreat, it comes on with its bitter flavor. Of course it is all mellowed by the sugar in the jam, but the combination is excellent.

I like it spread on toast or swirled into yogurt. The rhubarb flavor isn't super assertive so it didn't stand up to the peanut butter in a sandwich.

Now Gabe is feeding me more names. Abbott and Costello. Mary Matlin and James Carville. Padma Lakshmi and Salman Rushdie. . .

2009: Rhubarb-Thyme Compote
2010: Rhubarb-Mint Popsicles
2011: Rhurbarb-Apple Turnovers

Rhubarb-Grapefruit Jam

Makes about 4 cups of jam
10 minutes preparation time
about 30 minutes cookig time

I use about 4 tablespoons of grapefruit juice for each cup of finished jam. It may seem like a lot, but the grapefruit flavor mellows over time.

8 cups diced rhubarb (about a pound and a half)
3 cups sugar
1/2 cup fresh grapefruit juice (from about 1 grapefruit)

Mix the rhubarb and sugar in a medium-sized sauce pan. Cover the pot and cook over medium-low heat until the rhubarb begins to release its juices, about five minutes. Remove the lid and cook the jam until the rhubarb is meltingly soft and has thickened, about 25 minutes. Stir in the grapefruit juice.

Pour the jam into airtight jars for short-term storage or can them if you want to keep them longer. (For some links about canning see this post).

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Weekend Snapshots: Swansong and New York City's American Museum of Natural History

We took the kids to New York this past weekend for a quick trip, a bittersweet trip for me. On  the sweet side, Saturday morning, we visited the American Museum of Natural History. I had not been in years, but we were inspired to visit by Brian Selznick's Wonderstruck. If you haven't read it, it's a great book for elementary and middle school aged children and some of the main action takes place at the museum.

We found the Minnesota Wolverine diorama that is featured in the book and were inspired to visit many more of the museum's signature dioramas. I turned my camera over to the kids and they had a great time photographing the animals. National Geographic, watch out!

We also visited the ocean hall, the gem stone exhibit, and watched Journey to the Stars. There is so much more to do!

In the afternoon, we had a picnic in the park with friends. The children entertained themselves while we chatted for a few hours over lots of yummy treats, mostly from the venerable Zabar's.

The trip was bittersweet because part of the purpose was to have a last visit to my aunt and uncle's apartment. My siblings and I all grew up visiting my aunt and uncle there. Those visits made New York a magical place for us and gave me the sense that anything was possible. I am so grateful for all those experiences and for the love and incredible generosity that my aunt and uncle showed us for so many years.

After my aunt died last year, my uncle decided that, for many good reasons, it was time to sell the apartment and move on. This trip, then, was a swansong for me and also a chance for our children to have one last hurrah in a place that was so important to their mother.

I woke up before dawn on Sunday morning, and lay there for some time feeling the presence of many memories swirling around me. The room felt thick with images and emotions from all of my visits there, so thick that they were nearly tangible.

I could see Midge there, popping around to lay snacks out on the coffee table, excitedly listing options for our stay in the city. Or curled up on the corner of the couch, listening to my latest professional or personal dilemma, working up some excellent advice, delivered gently. Or telling a story as only she could, zeroing in on the quirkiness of the situation and using a well-placed expletive or two to make it that much more hilarious.

Or, in the last year of her life, sitting on that same couch, both of us crying, as we discussed the cancer that was spreading through her body, and her efforts to accept death. And later, watching as she gamely walked out of her bedroom using the walls as support, in the nightgown that we had given her, to have a last visit with our children. Or later still, sitting by her side as she lay in her bed, so tiny and fragile, overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness, concern, and love.

The attachment to the apartment feels so strong, perhaps because of the intense emotion that I feel when I am there. Letting go is hard because I feel like I am losing my aunt again, that my connection to her is somehow diminishing.

I realize, though, that the memories are not in that place. They are in me and my uncle, in my mother and siblings and Gabe, and now, in our children, too. Even though I still miss Midge terribly, spending time with others that I love helps me remember her and honors her life. She was so dedicated to all of us, and it was she and Jay that created the magic of New York for us, not the apartment or the view.

I hope that Olivia, Oscar, and Chloe will carry those memories of Midge and New York wherever their lives take them. I know I will.

Rhubarb Shortcakes

You know how your mind wanders and you go from Shakespeare to rhubarb to crossdressing?

Sometimes you are just sitting, innocently minding your own business, watching your daughter perform in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Just watching, soaking in her enthusiasm and joy, watching her recite lines that you saw in the beat up script that she carried around for months but didn't mean much to you on the page. Now listening, hearing those words come to life.

Then you hear it: "rhubarb-rhubarb-rhubarb-rhubarb-rhubarb."

What the?

But there it is, clear as day, "rhubarb-rhubarb-rhubarb-rhubarb-rhubarb." Two characters, mumbling, saying that word of all words.

And not just any characters, mind you. It is one boy playing a boy playing a girl and another boy playing a boy playing a boy, mumbling through a girl playing a boy playing a wall. And it gets you thinking about how Shakespeare only used male actors to play all the roles so that there was lots of crossdressing going on. And you think how much funnier it is to watch those gender roles all scrambled than it would be if it were just boys playing boys, girls playing girls, and walls playing walls.

And in a way, you think, Rhubarb is a very Shakespearian vegetable. Sure, tomatoes are botanically fruits that we more commonly treat as vegetables (as are beans, squash, corn, etc., all of whom carry their own seeds within themselves, but for some reason nobody talks about them being fruits).

But I can't think of any other vegetables that masquerade as fruits. Rhubarb, then, is special.

Also, rhubarb is delicious. Even all by itself as the star of the show.

Your mind does wander like this, too . . . doesn't it?

2009: Candied Ginger Scones
2010: Monday Rhubarb Streusel Cake
2011: Green Rhubarb Galette

Rhubarb Shortcakes

Inspired by Anne Dimock's recipe for Straight-Up Rhubarb Pie on Food 52

The individual components for the dessert can be made several hours in advance and assembled just before serving. When I served these on Saturday, I halved this recipe and also made a separate strawberry topping for those who wanted a more traditional dessert. I used about a quart of strawberries, and loosely followed this recipe. Most of us opted for open-faced shortcakes with strawberries on one side and rhubarb on the other.

Serves 12
35 minutes preparation time
15 minutes baking time

For the shortcakes:
2 cups unbleached white flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar
5 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces
2/3 cup milk
cream for brushing (a tablespoon or less)

For the rhubarb:
5-6 cups rhubarb, trimmed, washed, and diced (about a pound)
1/4 cup sugar
small pinch cinnamon
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

For the whipped cream:
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1/3 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 425 degrees and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper. 

To make the shortcakes, sift together the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar in a large bowl  Mix in the butter with your fingers, mashing it into the flour until the mixture is the texture of coarse cornmeal.  Slowly stir in the milk a bit at a time, using just enough to get the mixture to hold together.  Knead the dough for about a minute.  Roll it into a ball and flatten it into a disk.

Flour a work surface and roll the dough out until it is approximately 1/2 inch thick. Cut it into 2-inch rounds (or hearts or diamonds...).  After you have cut one batch, re-roll the dough and cut again. When you are left with small scraps, shape them into a final disk. It will be lumpy, but it will still taste good. Arrange the shortcakes on the cookie sheet and brush them with a bit of cream. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes, just until the cakes turn a pale gold color. Remove them from the oven and set them aside to cool on a rack.

Toss the rhubarb, sugar, and cinnamon together in a small saucepan. With the lid on, heat the rhubarb over medium-low heat until the rhubarb releases its juices, about 5 minutes. Remove the lid and let the mixture simmer until the rhubarb is very soft, about 15 minutes.

To make the cream mixture, whip the heavy cream, sour cream, sugar, and vanilla together until it is the texture of whipped cream.

When they are cool enough to handle, split them horizontally with a large knife. The shortcakes are firm and this is easier to do than it initially seems it will be.

To serve, place the bottom of each shortcake on a platter. Spoon about two tablespoons of the rhubarb mixture on top, and then layer on the whipped cream. Gently place the cake top on the whipped cream. 

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Happy Mother's Day 2012

It's a conflicted attitude that we have in this country towards mothers.

On the one hand, we love to critique mothering. We watch with the same curiosity that we have as we slow down to rubberneck at an accident. We observe the tiger mother, the helciopter mother, the stage mother -- the list goes on -- all with horrified fascination, hoping that we aren't making the same obvious mistakes.

On the other hand, we revere our mothers, setting aside this day to honor them, and even throwing them in there as a symbol of patriotism, up there with apple pie.

Either way, it's a bit of pressure. Either we're totally mucking up our children's lives with some approach that others think foolish. Or we're held to some impossible standard of perfection and goodness. Yikes.

Today, though, let's put that aside and focus on what mothers have done right. If you are a mother, whether a new one or a seasoned one, whether you hold your babe in your arms, hear their shouts from the back yard, or hope for a phone call from afar, picture those children that you have nurtured.

Really take a minute, close your eyes, and think of each of them, one at a time. Run a little slide show in your head. Think of their virtues, their strengths, the beauty that they have added to your lives.

Incredible, isn't it?

Let's let the rest go and, even though we may only be responsible for some small part of those wonderful people whose lives we hold so dear, let's revel in all that has gone right, in all the joy and wonder that they have given us.

And let's consider our own mothers. Despite their own imperfections, fatigue, and mistakes -- not to mention the mounds of laundry that constantly formed and re-formed -- they have gotten us this far. No small accomplishment, to be sure.

So today, celebrate, be happy. . .

And ignore that pile of laundry in the corner.

Happy Mother's Day!

Avocado and Radish Quinoa Salad

It happens every year. Spring arrives and I become obsessed with making picnic food. With a few notable exceptions (like this and this), I don't seem to like repeating the same picnic salads. I'm always trying to come up with a new grain-veggie-protein combimation to make the perfect dinner-in-a-bowl picnic food.

And so, when the days get longer and warmer, I start getting excited about picnic dishes.

For some of you, spring might be the opportunity to debut a cute new pair of sandals or a sweet little summer dress. Or to play baseball or ride bikes again.

As I wrote that, I thought, "Those things sound great! Why can't I be obsessed with one of those?!?!"

But that's the thing about obsessions, isn't it? You don't get to choose them. They choose you. Every once in a while, they will even choose two of you at once. This year, quinoa has chosen to make its mark on both Gabe and me. Something about that nutty chewiness has gotten to the two of us and we are enjoying it more and more. And so it has made its appearance on several buffet tables over the past couple of months.

Cross the quinoa obsession with the picnic food obsession and you get this very tasty salad. I love the contrasts of the soft avocado with the crisp radish, and the tart lime with the sweet basil.

I think this may be one of those picnic salads that we do end up making again and again.

At least until a new obsession moves in.

2009: Taco Frittata
2010: Arugula Pesto Quinoa
2011: Ramp Pesto

Avodaco and Radish Quinoa Salad

To make the salad in advance, cook the chick peas and quinoa up to a few days ahead. Chop the vegetables a few hours before you are ready to serve.

30 minutes preparation time, plus a couple of hours to cook the chick peas
Serves 6

1/3 cup dried chick peas
1 cup quinoa
1/4 cup fresh lime juice (about 2 lemons)
2 ripe avocadoes, cut into large chunks
6 radishes, preferably a mix of mild and hotter, sliced
1 tablespoon cumin
1 cup basil, torn into bits
1/3 cup olive oil, divided
salt and pepper to taste

Put the chick peas in a small saucepan and cover them generously with water. Add a pinch of salt and bring the beans to a boil. Reduce them to simmer and let them cook until they are tender, a couple of hours. Check occasionally to be sure that they have enough water and, if needed add more. When the chick peas are soft, drain them and set them aside to cool.

To cook the quinoa, heat a teaspoon or so of the olive oil in a skillet.  Add the quinoa and cook, stirring, until it is fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes.  Add 1 1/2 cups of water, and bring to a boil.  Let it boil for about 1 minute.  Turn off the heat, cover, and let the quinoa sit until it is soft and the round grains have opened up, 12 to 15 minutes. When it is done, remove the lid and stir the quinoa with a fork. Set aside.

Squeeze the limes into a large bowl and add the avocado. Add the remaining ingredients and stir gently. Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.

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Egg-Topped Pizza

Our Friday pizza-and-a-movie nights are still going strong after nearly three years. We do skip them occasionally, but when we do, the weekend feels a bit off.

A friend teased me recently that I wouldn't meet her for a drink until quite late on a Friday night because I had to stay home to eat pizza and watch a movie with my kids first. My reaction was, "You know you're a good friend or I wouldn't have come at all!" After a long week, I often have trouble making it to the final credits.

And I'm not the only one. I have been surprised to see how many times the kids have passed up other invitations in order to stay home and eat pizza with their parents.

Ok, ok, for the kids, it may be more about getting to watch TV, which they don't otherwise get to do much.

Whatever. I'll take it.

As the kids are getting closer to teenagerdom (and it's definintely starting to feel like a -dom), I realize that we have to shift the fun activities that we do together as a family. We need to grow with our kids if we want them to continue to enjoy spending time with us. So it's less Top Chef and more Disney tween shows. Sigh.

No matter. The evenings are still a way to hang on to some of the family time that is so dear to me.

The type of pizza we make varies, but this has become my favorite pizza lately. I remember seeing eggs on pizzas in Italy, but I don't see them much here. My favorite way to cook it is so that the yolk stays a bit runny. It takes a bit of watching to accomplish that, but even even if the egg goes too far and becomes hard cooked, it is delicious.

I usually add smoked mozzarella to get a bacon-and-egg-flavor thing going, but if you eat bacon, you could also toss a bit on for a true breakfast pizza.

2009: Spaghetti and V-Balls
2010:  Homemade Butter
2011: Simple Crusty Peasant Wheat Bread

Egg-Topped Pizza

The recipe is for a single thin-crust pizza, but it takes 2 or 3 of these to serve our family of 5.

Makes 1 pizza (serves 2)
20 minutes preparation time, plus a few hours for the dough to rise

1 batch semolina pizza crust
1 cup tomato sauce*
3 ounces smoked mozzarella, sliced
3 eggs

Prepare the pizza crust and set it aside to rise.

About 40 minutes before you plan to serve the pizza, preheat the oven to 500 degrees. If you have a pizza stone, put it in the oven and let it heat in the oven for at least 30 minutes while you roll out the dough, prepare the sauce, and prepare the toppings.

Roll out the dough thinly. Remove the pizza stone from the oven and sprinkle it with cornmeal or semolina flour. Transfer the dough to the stone. Working quickly so that the stone doesn't get too cool, spread the sauce evenly across the dough. With the back of the spoon, carve out three indentations for the eggs by pushing the sauce to create a low ridge around the edges. Sprinkle the cheese on top but don't put any in the indented spots.

Put the pizza back into the oven for about 5 minutes. Remove the pizza and stone and crack an egg into each of the indentations that you created. If any egg leaks out, dam the leak with a piece of mozzarella or a spoon of sauce. Holding the stone very flat so that the egg doesn't slosh out, return the stone to the oven.

Cook until the white is firm but the yolk is still runny, about 5 more minutes. Serve -- and consume -- immediately! 

* To make a basic pizza sauce, saute a couple of roughly sliced garlic cloves in olive oil for about 30 seconds, add a 28-ounce can of diced tomatoes, a tablespoon of tomato paste, and a few chopped leaves of fresh oregano, and let the pot simmer until sauce thickens, about half an hour.

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Kitchen Renovation Update: Ta da!

It's all done. Done, done. Put a fork in it done.

The renovation process is beoming a hazy blur and we are settled in and making the most of our space. I am loving it all, from the baking area to the huge window over the sink, to the fancy-schmancy stove. The cookbook shelf, the pantry, and over and over again, that beautiful island all make me smile at least ten times a day.

Here are the details:
Architect: Reve
Contractor: Vogan Associates
Kitchen Design: Kitchen and Bath Studios
Cabinets: Christiana
Countertops: Carrera Marble from Bratti
Island top: Walnut from Wood Eye Wood
Stove: La Canche
Other Applicances: ABW Appliances
    Refrigerator: KitchenAid
    Dishwasher: Bosch
    Hood insert: Best by Broan
Microwave: Frigidaire
Pendant lights: Design Within Reach
Cabinet Hardware: Home Depot, Restoration Hardware
Stools: Target

One surprise has been the open space at the end of the room. We had planned to put some comfortable chairs and a table there, but we didn't get around to it immediately. And now that area has taken on a life of its own.

It has been amazing to have all that space during parties, of course. People tend to gather in the kitchen, and now we can pack them in. Yes!

But I am also discovering that unstructured space is like unstructured time: it allows for a bit of creativity. Most frequently, that area has become a dance floor and, most recently it has also been used as a jump rope arena. At some point, we may furnish it, but for now it will remain an open canvas.

Green Apple Fizz

We've just returned from Spring Break in California. My head is still in the clouds and I'm finding it hard to adjust to east coast time. I will sort through the gazillion photos that I took and soon I'll do a post for you recapping the highlights. In the meantime, though, I have a little something bubbly for you.

I love the idea of having a frou frou drink for a party, something fruity and refreshing. It would be something special for the nondrinkers and it could be spiked for those that care to indulge.

For me and the fancy drink, though, idea and execution rarely meet. I lie in bed dreaming up all kinds of fabulous concoctions, but often I forget to put the needed ingredients on the shopping list. Or I buy the ingredients, but run out of time for the actual preparation.

This time I thought I was golden. I had that green apple syrup prepped in the morning, hours before our guests were to arrive. Gabe did run out at the last minute because we had forgotten the seltzer and ice. But by the time the curtain went up, it was all assembled: ice, seltzer, and syrup were on their own table, ready to be mixed for our guests. And then our friends arrived, and I began chatting and eating, and drinking. I forgot all about my sweet drink.

A few must have tried it out because there was a bit missing from the pitcher, but, without a host to do the mixing, most people didn't know what to do with it.

So there were leftovers. Which we thoroughly enjoyed. The green apple is crisp and refreshing, a perfect drink for the spring, before the berries are out, but when a cool, sweet drink hits the spot.

Next time, we need a bar tender. I'm thinking those kiddies are old enough.

Green Apple Fizz

Makes 8-10 drinks
30 minutes preparation time, plus several hours for chilling

2 cups granulated sugar
2 cups water
4 Granny Smith apples, plus extra slices for garnish
1/2 cup fresh squeezed lime juice (from about 6 limes)
2-3 quarts seltzer water

Put the sugar and water in a small saucepan over medium heat. Bring the mixture to a low boil and stir until the sugar dissolves. Remove the pan from the heat and set it aside to cool.

Cut the apples into quarters and remove the cores. Grate or shred the apples (I used a food processor, but you could also use a grater). Pour the shredded apples into a large pitcher (or two, if you don't have one large enough). Add the lime juice and, when the syrup has cooled to room temperature, add it too.

Let the mixture sit for several hours or overnight to allow the flavor of the apples to steep into the sugar syrup. Before serving, pour through a strainer into another pitcher, mashing the shredded apples with a back of the spoon against the strainer to remove all of the juice.

To serve, fill a 12-ounce glass with ice. Add about 1/3 cup syrup and top off the glass with seltzer. Stir. Taste and add more syrup, if you want a stronger flavor. Garnish with a slice of apple.

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Bite-Sized Apple Brown Bettys

Sometimes I think our world is shrinking. Before we had children, I thought nothing of driving several hours to New York or Philadelphia for a celebratory dinner with friends. After our oldest child was born, the road trips dwindled, but we still spent a lot of time with friends all over the D.C. area, even if it meant driving an hour for a visit.

In those days, we parents were still in control of our schedules, and we went where our friends were.

But things have changed. I suppose it happened slowly, as we added another two children to the family. But it seems that they have grown suddenly to become individuals in their own right. Now they have interests. They have places that they want to go. They have their own friends to visit. And even with two chauffeurs parents to shuttle them, our weekends fill up with activities and a trip to visit friends, even those in the D.C. metro area, seems impossible. 

These days, we parents are no longer in control of our own schedules, but we have found excellent friends where we have gone. There, on the side of the soccer field or in an overheated cafeteria filled with excited children we have made new friends, some of whom I hope will be friends long after our children are grown and the activities that brought us together are a distant memory.

As our world has shrunk and we have pulled the circle even closer to home, our neighborhood also has become an increasingly important part of our social life. We are blessed with fantastic neighbors. Admittedly, some of them became neighbors by design. My high school friend, a realtor, already lived in the neighborhood and found my sister a house here, too. When we saw a great house for sale in the neighborhood a year later, we didn't hesitate. And a few years ago one of my sister's college friends moved into the area and wisely bought a house two doors down from my sister.

But even those that weren't socially engineered into the neighborhood have turned out to be wonderful neighbors who love to socialize. A few weeks back, some of the more ambitious party organizers planned a progressive party. I volunteered to make dessert because I'm always looking for an opportunity to bake, especially when I don't have to eat all the leftovers.

We decided that to keep things easy, we'd make desserts that didn't need a fork or even a plate, unless of course someone wanted to amass a small pile. I had offered to make something with fruit, but pies and tarts were out. I came across these tiny Brown Bettys on Smitten Kitchen which appealed to me not only because they were tiny, fruity, and cute, but also because the crust was made with slices of bread. Interesting. And a bit easier than making a crust, a shortcut that seemed a good idea for a large scale operation.

I have to admit that I also made these chocolate goodies for the party and they were definitely more popular. But the Brown Bettys were good. Really good. The brown butter gives them a slightly nutty flavor and the tart apples along with the cardamom and lemon dial up the zestiness. Chloe tasted one (just to make sure that they were edible) and said, "These taste like a dream come true."

If our world keeps getting smaller and smaller it will just be us, hanging out at home together. Eating as many Brown Bettys as we want.

I can live with that.

2009:  Blueberry Crumb Cake
2010:  Roses des Sables
2011:  Clementine Sorbet and Teal Toes

Bite-Sized Apple Brown Bettys

Makes about 2 dozen Brown Bettys
30 minutes preparation time
30 minutes baking time

From Gourmet via Smitten Kitchen

for the Brown Bettys:
1 cup melted butter
8 slices white sandwich bread
2 tart apples, such as Granny Smiths
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground cardamom
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
pinch of salt
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
3/4 cup breadcrumbs, preferably homemade

for garnish:
1 cup heavy cream, whipped
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon granulated sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Melt the butter in a small sauté pan over medium heat. Once it has melted, turn the heat to low and, stirring occasionally, let it brown. As soon as the butter starts to darken, watch it carefully. Let it go for about another 30 seconds, until it turns a medium-brown color and smells slightly nutty.

Cut the crusts off of the bread slices. (Save the scraps to make bread crumbs). Roll each slice with a rolling pin to flatten it.

Cut the bread into circles large enough to line the muffin tins, including covering the sides. It may take some trial and error to find the right tool for cutting the circles, but there is sure to be something in the kitchen -- a jar lid, the bottom of a salt shaker, a small glass -- that will be the right size. (Again, reserve the bread scraps for bread crumbs).

Brush each side of each circle with brown butter and arrange the circles into the muffin cups. If the circles tear, patch them with pieces of the scraps, but they need not be perfect. Any flaws will be inconspicuous in the final product.

Peel and finely dice the apples. Toss them with any remaining butter, the cinnamon, cardamom, lemon zest, salt, and bread crumbs. Spoon the filling into the shells so that the filling just rises above the side of the shell. Cover the pan with foil. Cook with the foil on for 10 minutes, then remove the foil and finish cooking until the crusts are lightly brown and the apples are tender, about 15 more minutes.

To make the whipped cream, whip the cream in a mixer. Once the cream begins to thicken, add the sugar and vanilla.

When the Brown Bettys are done, turn them onto a cooling rack. They can be served warm or at room temperature. Serve with a dollop of whipped cream.

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Perfectly Soft-Boiled Eggs

[I've updated my technique for making perfect soft-boiled eggs here. ~ Margy 10-05-12.]

We've been duped.

A few years ago, we thought we had found the perfect little bakery-restaurant for breakfast in New York: excellent coffees, dark hot chocolates, shatteringly crisp croissants, perfect soft-boiled eggs. It became part of our routine, and our breakfasts there were always an auspicious way to start our days of walking and sightseeing.

But it turns out that our ideal breakfast spot is not the independent corner bakery that we thought we had so cleverly discovered. No, it turns out that it is in fact an international chain, Le Pain Quotidien. Sigh.

It was a letdown at first, to be sure. As Olivia said, "I liked it better when it was somewhere special that we went only when we were in New York."

But now I'm getting used to the idea. A few have opened in the D.C. area, in Georgetown, Bethesda, and Alexandria. It's been convenient to have them closer to home and the quality is still excellent. It makes the world a smaller place, too, to know that from Mexico to India and Australia to Abu Dhabi, children are stirring that dark chocolate into steamed milk and cracking open a soft boiled egg.

Also, I owe PQ a debt of gratitude for getting my children hooked on soft-boiled eggs. They love dipping their strips of toast into the soft yolk, and it's a quick enough breakfast to make that they can have them before school.

It also has gotten me to continue my obsession with making perfect eggs. A perfect soft-boiled egg should have a firm white but a soft, runny yolk. As we have tried to master the perfect egg at home, we have eaten many hard boiled eggs that we had hoped would be soft and even the occasional way-too-soft-egg with a white that was still runny. Blech.

The timing is tricky. Some recipes say to boil them for a certain number of minutes, but it's always been unclear to me when you begin timing. Is it from the time the first bubbles appear or sometime after that? And dropping an egg into already boiling water invariable results in a cracked shell with some of the white leaking out in an unappealing way.

If PQ can churn out millions of perfect eggs around the world, surely I should be able to make one in my kitchen.

The key, I think, is to watch the water as it begins to boil. (Forget everything you've ever heard about watched pots.) Ignore the tiny bubbles that cling to the eggs almost as soon as you turn on the heat and, instead, look for larger bubbles begin to bubble up from the bottom of the pot. That's when to begin timing.

Start watching

Not quite yet

Now!

I don't know how PQ does it without a cadre of pot watchers, but maybe someday I'll find out. In the meantime, we're having perfect eggs, every time. Now I'm wondering whether we could throw in some natural dyes to color the outside of the eggs for Easter. . .

2009: Natural Egg Dyes with Botanic Prints
2010: Tissue Paper Easter Eggs
2011: Flourless Chocolate Cake with Blood Orange Sauce

Perfectly Soft-boiled Eggs

Since I wrote this post, I discovered (thanks to one of my clever readers) an even easier way to make perfect soft boiled eggs. Read about it here.

Serves 5
About 10 minutes cooking and preparation time

5 large eggs
3 pieces sliced bread
butter for the toast
salt and pepper to taste

Place eggs in a pot of water deep enough to submerge the eggs. Put the pot over high heat. Once small bubbles appear, clinging to the eggs and the side of the pot, watch the pot carefully. As soon as a larger bubble -- about the size of a pea -- bubbles up from the bottom of the pot, set the timer for 4 minutes. Turn the heat down to medium. The water should continue to boil, but not violently.

Stay in the kitchen. Make the toast, butter it, and slice it into long strips. When the timer goes off, remove the eggs from the heat and run them under cold water for a few seconds. Serve immediately. 

To crack the eggs open, use a spoon to crack the shell all the way around the circumference of the egg about one-third down from the top (how many degrees latitude would that be?). Use the spoon to lift off the top. Scoop the egg out of the top, season it, and eat it. Salt and pepper the remaining egg, dip strips of toast into the egg yolk, and then scoop out the rest of the egg with a spoon.

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Lemon Cake Squared

I have a new favorite.

At least for now. These things go through cycles, and I'm sure I will change my mind again and again, but for now I'm sure of it. I have a new favorite.

 A new favorite cake, that is.

 Did you think I meant a favorite child? Try as my children might to find out who my favorite really is, I'm not talking. Would you believe me if I said that I didn't have a favorite? I really don't. I find that at any one point in time, one of the three is going through a trying phase and one is going through a particularly easy phase. The other is the wild card.

But those roles are constantly changing. On any one day, one may be driving me crazy and another may be particularly charming. But at the end of the day, when I tiptoe into their bedrooms to peek at them while they sleep (or I think they are asleep!), my heart is incredibly full. All of the joys that each has brought to me come flooding into my mind and I am overwhelmed with gratitude that they are a part of my life.

Really. I do not have a favorite.

Cake is another matter.

Olivia, who loves the tartness of lemons enough to eat them raw, asked for a lemon cake with lemon frosting for her birthday. And in the shape of Mickey Mouse, too, please. If it's not too hard. Ah, yes, I love a good challenge.

To make the cake, I tarted up the basic yellow cake recipe from Cooks Illustrated's The New Best Recipes by adding fresh lemon zest and juice. The cake was moist, with a tender crumb. There was nothing heavy or dense about it. Just light, lemony goodness.

I loved, loved, loved this cake. And I wasn't the only one. Of the 12 children at her party, not one left a bite behind.

 

I gave the Mickey my best shot. My black never gets black enough and my cake decorating skills are not refined, but Olivia was happy. Phew.

2009: Vanilla Bean Pudding
2010: Chocolate Sheet Cake with Brown Sugar Buttercream (still Oscar's favorite birthday cake)
2011: Chewy Peanut Butter Cookies

Lemon Cake Squared

Adapted from Cooks Illustrated's The New Best Recipes
Serves 12-14
45 minutes preparation time, plus time for frosting and decorating
20 to 25 minutes baking time

I have written the recipe as a round layer cake. But to make Mickey I only baked one of the layers in a 9-inch round pan. The remaining batter, I put into smaller round pans (I ended up using 3) so that I could make the ears. The cooking time for the smaller pans was 5 or 10 minutes less than for the larger pans.

Whatever shape you make the cake, I find it helpful to freeze the cake for a short time (15 to 30 minutes) before frosting it. The cake will be firmer and fewer crumbs will end up in the frosting.

For the cake:
4 large eggs
1/4 cup freshly grated lemon zest (about 4 lemons)
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (2-3 lemons)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 3/4 cups cake flour
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
16 tablespoons (2 sticks) butter at room temperature, cut into tablespoons

For the frosting:
4 tablespoons unsalted butter at room temperature
8 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
3 cups confectioners' sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter and flour 2 9-inch round cake pans.

In a small bowl, whisk together the eggs, lemon zest, lemon juice, and vanilla. Take out one cup of the egg mixture and set it aside.

Measure the cake flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt into a mixing bowl. Mix on low for just a few seconds until the ingredients combine. With the mixer running on low, add the butter one tablespoon at a time, waiting about 10 seconds after each addition. Mix until the butter and flour form small clumps.

Add the cup of egg mixture that you set aside and mix just to incorporate. Turn the speed to medium-high and beat until the mixture turns lighter in color and becomes fluffy, about a minute. Add the remaining egg mixture and mix to combine. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, and mix until the mixture is fully combined. The batter will look slightly curdled.

Pour the batter into the cake pans and smooth the tops with a spatula.

Bake until the cakes are golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes. Cool on a rack in the pans for about 10 minutes. Remove from the pans and continue to cool on a rack until completely cool to the touch before frosting.

To make the frosting, use a mixer to beat the cream cheese and butter together on medium speed. Add the confectioner's sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Add the lemon juice and mix again to combine. 

To assemble the cake, place the first layer on a serving tray. If it is not flat across the top, trim a bit of the center off the top with a large knife. Frost the entire cake. Add the second layer and frost again. Garnish with lemon slices.

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Broccoli-Gorgonzola Pie

Now that the kitchen is fully in action, it's been party, party, party over here. We are incredibly happy to be using the space and cooking again, and we have been bursting with excitement to cook and cook and cook. Of course we had the birthday parties and an Oscar party, and, most recently, we had a party to thank all of the kind and generous souls who fed us during the construction.

Those nights that friends invited us into their homes or dropped food off for us sustained us throughout the project. Escaping our dust-filled house into the calm and comfort of another home fed more than just our bellies. And eating a meal that we knew had been kindly made and delivered to us was so very nourishing.

When we were brainstorming about what to make for the thank-you party, the children each enthusiastically volunteered to make something, getting right into the spirit of choosing foods they thought their friends would enjoy. Chloe suggested suppli, one of our favorite party treats. Oscar volunteered to make our standard macaroni and cheese, a particular favorite and specialty of his. And Olivia decided to make lemon meringue pie, one of her favorites to make and eat.

For our part, Gabe and I wanted the dishes that we made to be celebratory, beyond our usual day-to-day repertoire. This broccoli-Gorgonzola pie was the star of the show. We had made it once before and found it very tasty, although the second time out, we tweaked the texture a bit.

The recipe is adapted from Yotam Ottolenghi's cookbook, Plenty, which has been one of my favorites lately (True Confession: I gave Gabe this cookbook for Christmas; he has been sharing very nicely). The recipes are all vegetarian (although he is not himself a vegetarian), and he has an incredibly imaginative approach that elevates vegetarian cooking. It has inspired me to take things up a notch, too, and has been an excellent source of ideas for party meals.

This pie beautifully pairs the fresh, healthiness of the broccoli with the richness of the Gorgonzola and pastry. As Ottolenghi points out in the cookbook, it is not a light dish, but it is an excellent special occasion meal. It will undoubtedly go into our rotation of party foods. More party food recipes are coming. Apparently, I cook faster that I write.

Cheers!

2009: Potato-Leek Soup
2010: Pressure Cooker Saffron and Artichoke Risotto
2011: Coco-Choco Pudding

Broccoli-Gorgonzola Pie

Adapted from Plenty
Serves 8-10
30-45 minutes preparation time
60 minutes baking time

Blanching the broccoli for just a couple of minutes before assembling the pie gets the final result to the perfect consistency  -- thoroughly cooked, but still bright green and not the least bit mushy.

1 pound broccoli, washed and cut into bite-sized florets
1 pound puff pastry
2 tablespoons butter
3 leeks
2/3 cup heavy cream
1/3 cup water
1/3 cup chopped chives
1/3 cup chopped fresh tarragon or 1 tablespoon dried
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon salt
a few grinds of black pepper
6 ounces Gorgonzola
1 egg, lightly beaten

If the puff pastry is frozen, follow the instructions on the package for thawing it. I generally move it from the freezer to the refrigerator the night before I plan to use it.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add the broccoli florets and blanch them for about 2 minutes. At this point, the broccoli should be vibrant green and just beginning to tenderize. Drain it in a colander and set it aside to cool.

Roll out the puff pastry until it is about one and a half times its original size. Place a tart pan with a removable bottom on top of the dough and cut around it so that you end up with a circle that is large enough to cover the bottom and the sides of the pan (it will be an inch or two larger than the diameter of the pan). Transfer the dough to the tart pan and push it into the corners. Trim off any dough that is higher than the sides of the pan.

Roll the remaining dough back into a ball and then roll it out again. Cut out a piece for the top of the pie that is just a bit -- a half inch should do -- larger than the tart pan.  Put both the top and bottom pieces into the freezer for at least 10 minutes.

After the dough has chilled, remove just the bottom piece. Line the dough with parchment paper or tin foil and fill the shell with dried beans. Bake the pastry until it begins to turn golden, about 20 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and take out the beans and foil or parchment paper. Return the tart shell to the oven and cook it until the pastry turns a golden brown, about 10 minutes more. Remove it from the oven. If it has puffed up, poke the top layer of the bubbles with a sharp knife to deflate them. Set the shell aside until the filling is ready.

In a large saute pan, melt the butter and add the leeks. Cook them until they are wilted and soft, about 10 minutes. Add the cream, chives, tarragon, mustard, salt, pepper and 1/4 cup of water. Stir to combine, and then remove the pan from the heat and set it aside.

To assemble the pie, first pour the filling into the bottom pastry crust. Next, arrange the broccoli florets, pushing them gently into the filling. Crumble the Gorgonzola in large chunks evenly over the top of the broccoli. Brush the sides of the bottom crust with the egg.

Remove the top pastry crust from the freezer and place it on top of the pie. If it has been in the freezer much longer than 10 minutes, give it a few minutes to soften up. Trim off all but about an inch of any crust that hangs over the side of the pan. Tuck the sides of the top crust along the out side of the pan, pushing down on the edges to join the top crust to the bottom one. Brush the top crust with the egg.

Bake until the pie is golden brown, about 30 minutes. Remove the pie from the oven and allow it to rest for about 5 minutes before cutting into it to serve.

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Eggplant Croquettes with Tarragon Aioli

Party Time

Act 2

Scene 1

The setting:  That same kitchen

The event:  Oscar night, again

The cast: Family, neighbors

The action: A party in full swing. Hungry children, eyeing the buffet with suspicion. A few nibbling unadorned toasts and pasta. Adults drinking sparkling water, wine, taking plates from a pile, heaping them with food, forgetting diets.

Noshing.

Margy: Oops, I forgot the aioli!

More action: Serving platters dwindling. Children tentatively eating eggplant.

Scene 2

Later: Plates of indulgences are empty. Healthier foods remain, waiting to be put away.

Scene 3

The next morning: A mostly clean kitchen, tired family, getting ready for school and work.

Oscar: I never got to try the eggplant.

Gabe: It's gone. We ate it all.

Oscar, disappointed: Oh. Okay.

Gabe: Wait. What's this? I had forgotten about it!

Scene 4

That evening: Family at the dinner table. Eggplant, reheated in the oven, dipped in aioli. Children enthusiastically eating eggplant.

2009: Cuban Black Beans (still a classic)
2010: Baked Potatoes with Cilantro Pesto
2011: Black Sesame Carrots

Eggplant Croquettes with Tarragon Aioli

Aioli is a creamy, garlicky mayonnaise, and the tarragon in this version is excellent with the eggplant. You omit it and serve the eggplant with another dip or just straight up.

Adapted from Plenty
Makes about 50 croquettes
30 minutes preparation time
1 hour cooking time

For the croquettes:
3 medium potatoes (about 2 cups after mashing)
2 large eggplants (about 2 cups after cooking)
1 cup crumbled feta
2 tablespoons freshly grated parmesan
1 egg
1 teaspoon salt
approximately 2 cups bread crumbs, preferably homemade, divided
canola oil for frying

For the aioli:
1 egg
1 garlic clove, smashed with a wooded spoon and peeled
1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice
pinch of salt
1/2 cup olive oil
1 1/2 tablespoons chopped tarragon

Put the whole potatoes in a pan, cover with water, and boil until tender when pierced with a knife, about 30 minutes depending on the size of the potatoes. When the potatoes are tender, drain the water and set the potatoes aside to cool. When they are cool enough to handle, peel off the skins with your hands.

Meanwhile, preheat the grill on high. Prick the eggplants with a fork and grill them until they are blackened on all sides. When they are completely blackened, set them aside to cool. When they are cool enough to touch, scrape the flesh out of the skins. Discard the skins and chop the eggplant coarsely.

While the potatoes and eggplant are cooling, make the aioli. Put the egg, lemon juice, and salt in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse just enough to mix it. With the food processor running, slowly pour in the olive oil in a thin stream. Add the tarragon and pulse just to combine. Scoop the aioli into a small serving bowl and refrigerate it until ready to serve.

In a medium-sized bowl, mash the potatoes and eggplant together. Mix in the feta, parmesan, egg, salt, and 1 cup of the breadcrumbs. Take a bit of the mixture out and shape it into a snake on the counter. Cut off a 2-inch length and test it to see whether it holds together. It should hold its shape as you life it off the counter. If it's too moist, add more breadcrumbs.

Divide the croquette mixture into quarters. Roll each fourth into a long snake a bit wider than your thumb. Roll each length in breadcrumbs and then cut it into two-inch segments. Arrange the segments on a baking sheet and set them in the refrigerator to chill for about 20 minutes.

Spread a couple of plates with newspaper and top with paper towels.

Pour an inch of canola oil into a deep pot and heat it over a medium-high heat. When the oil shimmers, drop in a small piece of the croquette. If it sizzles immediately, the oil is hot. Working in batches, drop the croquettes into the oil, making sure that there is room for the hot oil to circulate on all sides of each croquette. Cook them until they are golden brown, approximately 2 to 3 minutes per batch.

Remove the croquettes with a slotted spoon and drain them on the paper towels. The croquettes are best served immediately, but if they can be kept in a warm oven until ready to serve. Serve on a platter with the aioli.

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Birthday Week 2012

This is a big birthday week in our house. With birthdays two days apart, all other activity ceases and birthday activities consume us all. We have been planning parties, shopping, shuttling children, and generally hustling around to take care of all of the things that need to be done before the birthdays. For Oscar's dinner, we had stuffed shells, we're having crepes tonight for the family birthday dinner party, and Olivia's dinner for tomorrow is still TBD. We have made chocolate cake, vegan cupcakes, and lemon cake (new recipes are on their way). There have been pizza parties and breakfasts in bed.

And by tomorrow at noon, we will have two children in double digits. Oscar turned 10 today and Olivia will be 12 on Wednesday. Suddenly our house is no longer filled with little ones playing elaborate imaginary games. Although even Olivia still has one foot -- or maybe it's just a toe or two -- in childhood, the balance has tipped, and we are now quickly becoming a house filled with pop music, dancing, card-playing, kindle-reading, movie-watching, and big children who want to stay up later than their parents do.

It is taking me a bit of adjusting to make the switch, but I am trying to let it unfold without too much interference. They still need a good bit of guidance, but I am very curious to watch who they are becoming. I don't want to push them into being just like me; I want them to become themselves, more formed and concrete versions of the little people that they have been since they entered our lives. I am watching carefully, trying to roll with it when I can, and to apply the brakes gingerly, even if I am often tempted to yank that emergency brake up with full force.

I know this ride won't last forever, and when those young adults get off the train and head off in a different direction from me, I want them to have good memories of the journey. I want them to fly on, to venture out, and to explore. And, selfishly, I mostly want them to want to come back.

Happy, happy birthday, Olivia. And happy, happy day to you too, Oscar. I am so happy to be sharing this journey with you.

Herbed Goat Cheese and Lentil Crostini

Party Time

Act 1

The setting:  Brand spanking new kitchen, open for business

The event: Oscar night

The cast: Gabe, Margy, Olivia, Oscar, Chloe, swirling around, cooking, setting out glasses, silverware, napkins.

The action: Small groups of adults and children arrive, family and neighbors, casually dressed, bearing food and drink. People gather in small groups, begin chatting, laughing.

[Exit Margy, stage left] We hear her greeting new guests as they arrive.

[Enter two adults and two children with a tray of food.]

[Enter Margy, stage left] We see her pause, survey the scene for a full minute, smile.

She enters back into the fray, chatting, pouring wine, passing appetizers.

Party time.

2009: Mom's Cheese Spread
2010: Crêpes
2011: Leek and Goat Cheese Frittata

Herbed Goat Cheese and Lentil Crostini

Each of the three components of this dish -- the baguette toasts, the lentils, and the goat cheese spread -- can be made ahead and stored in airtight containers. Store the toasts at room temperature and the goat cheese and lentils in the refrigerator. If the toasts lose their crispness, reheat them in the oven for a couple of minutes before assembling. Bring the lentils and goat cheese to room temperature before assembling the crostini.

Adapted from Heidi Swanson's Super Natural Cooking
Makes about 30 crostini
30 minutes preparation time
30 minutes cooking time

For the crostini:
1 baguette
approximately 1/4 cup olive oil
1 garlic clove

For the lentils:
1/2 cup small French (Le Puy) lentils
1 teaspoon salt

For the goat cheese spread:
8 ounces soft goat cheese, such as Chèvre
a few splashes of milk
3 tablespoons chopped fresh herbs, preferably chives and flat leaf parsley, plus more for garnish

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

While the oven is heating, slice the baguette. Layer the slices in a single layer on a cookie sheet. Brush each slice on both sides with olive oil. Toast the slices in the oven until they are golden brown, about 10 minutes. Remove them from the oven and set them aside to cool. Slice the tip off one end of the garlic clove and, when the toasts have cooled, rub the garlic clove over the top of each toast. Set aside.

Put the lentils in a small saucepan and bring them to a simmer over medium-high heat. Turn the heat down to low, add the salt, stir, and simmer the lentils until they are tender but still hold their shape, 15 to 20 minutes. Drain the lentils and set them aside.

In a small bowl, mash the goat cheese with a fork, adding a couple of splashes of milk, until the mixture becomes a spreadable consistency. Add the fresh herbs and mix just until they are fully incorporated.

To assemble the crostini, spread a thick layer of goat cheese onto each toast. Top with a teaspoon or so of lentils and a sprinkle of chives.

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Roasted Zucchini Gratin

Sometimes an idea sits just under your consciousness, lurking.  Like a tiny pebble in your shoe that you only feel every tenth step. Or a neighbor who always knows when you're home. She doesn't come to the door, but just peeks out every once in a while to let you know she's still there.

I have had an idea for zucchini gratin pestering me like that. About a year ago we had a delicious version at our friends' house. It tasted fresh but was also comfortingly cheesy, everything you want in a gratin. Of course Gabe and I thought it was delicious, but more importantly, our kids all loved it too. All three of them, which is not easy to pull off, especially for a dish whose primary ingredient is a green vegetable.

I came home and immediately tried to replicate it, but my versions were always soggy and watery, not at all ideal. Then on Food52, I found this recipe that involved roasting the zucchini first. Not only does that give the zucchini more flavor, but I hoped it would dry it out a bit so that the end result would be cheesy and tasty and wouldn't turn into a mushy mess.

Bingo!

I added a bit of egg to the dish so that it could stand up as a main course for us vegetarians. It approaches a frittata, but isn't quite that eggy. We ate it with salad and bread for a perfect weeknight meal.

This is another one of those recipes that can be embellished or adapted according to your likes or dislikes. We made it with manchego and mozzarella, but you could substitute your own favorites. Gruyere? Stilton? Cheddar? Any of those would be delicious too, as would switching the out the rosemary for basil, thyme, or chives.

I'm so glad we've gotten this lurker out into the open.

2011: Moroccan-Style Vegetable Stew
2010: Wasabi and Garlic Mashed Potatoes
2009: Roasted Shallot and Buttercup Squash Soup

Roasted Zucchini Gratin

Serves 8
20 minutes preparation time
1 hour baking time

3 medium-sized zucchini, cut into large chunks
1 large onion, diced
1 shallot, diced
1-2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh rosemary leaves, chopped or 1 tablespoon dried
2 teaspoons lemon zest
4 scallions, sliced
1 cup shredded Manchego
1/4 cup mozzarella, cubed
3 eggs
approximately 1 cup milk
salt and pepper to taste 

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Oil a 9-by-13-inch casserole dish.

Layer the zucchini, onion, and shallot in the casserole dish. Drizzle on 1 to 2 tablespoons of olive oil, sprinkle the vegetables with the rosemary, salt, and pepper, and stir them enough to coat them with the oil. Roast the zucchini in the oven, stirring once or twice, until it is tender when pierced with a knife but still holds its shape, about 20 minutes. 

In a small bowl, mix together the cheeses and the scallions. Break the eggs into a 2-cup measuring cup, and add milk until the mixture hits the 1 1/2 cup mark.

Remove the zucchini from the oven and lower the oven temperature to 350 degrees. Sprinkle on the lemon zest and stir it in. Pour the egg-milk mixture over the zucchini. Sprinkle the cheese on top and return it to the oven. Bake until the gratin is golden brown and bubbly, about 40 minutes.

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Weekend Snapshots: New York City's High Line and Chelsea Art Galleries

This past weekend, Gabe and I spent a bit of time testing out the "absence makes the heart grow fonder" theory.

As you know if you spend any time visiting this blog, I am obsessed with a big fan of family time. Family dinners, family outings, family vacations are all high on my list of life's greatest pleasures.

But sometimes a bit of adult time is needed, too. When our friend Tamara invited us to New York for the long weekend, we were thrilled. We were five couples in all and our children were elsewhere. Actually, all of our children being cared for by other family members, mostly grandparents. We were doubly blessed: an invitation for a weekend away along with the family support to make it happen. Thank you, Eva!

We did lots of typical New York things, walked in Central Park, ordered in Chinese food, and drank great coffee. We saw Other Desert Cities and, although I was very disappointed that Rachael Griffiths did not perform the day we were there, her understudy, Liz Wisan, was excellent, and the play overall was exceptional.

We also took a long walk down to the High Line, and from one end to the other. For those of you who haven't been there, the High Line is an elevated public park built on the tracks of a former railroad line on the lower west side of Manhattan. It feels like an old fashioned promenade, a boardwalk of sorts, high above street level.

The day we went it was packed with other amblers, but even in winter, the native plantings were beautiful, and there were even a few hints of spring.

Our cultural ambassadors, Monica and Tom, had planned the outing along with a trip down from the high line to visit some of the dozens of galleries that line the streets of Chelsea. There were many more galleries than we had time or energy to visit, but it was fascinating to see what some of today's artists are creating. Among the more memorable exhibits were Will Ryman's Everyman at Paul Kasmin Gallery, a huge sculpture made of 30,000 bottle caps. I was also intrigued by Holly Andres's Fall of Spring Hill at Robert Mann Gallery, a story of motherhood and retribution told in photographs. All 12 prints in the collection can be viewed here if you'd like to page through it. 



Naturally, we did lots of eating and drinking, too, including an excellent dinner at Dovetail (I have to figure out a way to get back there on a Monday so we can try their Monday night vegetarian menu), exceptionally flaky croissant from Epicerie Bouloud, and more than one visit to the ubiquitious-but-still-delicious Pain Quotidien.

The best part of all, though, was the time that we spent sitting around reminiscing about the past, and laughing about the quirks of life. That laughter felt very, very good.

Chocolate Shortbread Ganache Bars

For Valentine's Day, I wanted to give you something fantastically chocolatey.

When I saw this recipe from Melissa Clark with her description of a layer of luscious chocolate ganache on top, I knew I had to give it a try. The cookies have shortbread as a base and are topped with ganache, that most luscious and easy-to-make of chocolate treats. Clark writes a weekly column in the New York Times Dining section and her recipes usually look delicious but comforting, the type of cooking that really speaks to me. She also has a new cookbook out, Cook This, Now, which I don't have yet, but it is a book that I need to add to the collection.

I changed things up a bit, of course. My valentine is not a fan of fruit with his chocolate, and Clark had added a layer of cherry jam on top of the short bread. That had to go. I considered and ruled out two other options quickly because Gabe doesn't like mint or nuts with his chocolate either. I thought about adding a bit of coffee, which I think would have worked well, but in the end, I decided to add a bit of bergamot flavor instead. 

Bergamot is the dominant flavor of Earl Grey tea, one of Gabe's favorites. The tea is derived from bergamot oranges, which are actually part of the citrus family. Technically, then, I was violating Gabe's no-fruit-with-chocolate preference, but I thought he might be willing to make an exception for his beloved Earl Grey.

To infuse the ganache with bergamot flavor, I steeped the cream in tea. I used two teabags and the result had just a hint of bergamot. The bargamot flavor was very subtle. Gabe described it as a mild citrus flavor. Next time I make these I will increase the number of tea bags for a more intense flavor. Or maybe I will just eliminate the tea altogether and just go for pure chocolate goodness.

I highly recommend the sea salt, however, because it adds a perfect bit of assertiveness on the tongue to contrast beautifully with the lusciousess of the chocolate.

We couldn't stop at one, and I don't think you will either.

Happy Valentine's Day!

February, 2009: Wee Handmade Valentine Cards
February, 2010: Peanut Butter Chocolate Chunk Cookies
February, 2011: Orange Chiffon Cake

Chocolate Shortbread Ganache Bars

I made these in a larger pan than Clark used because the I wanted a thinner, crisper shortbread to contrast with the ganache. Also, Clark calls for lining the pan with parchment, but I found that the bars came easily out of an unlined, ungreased glass pan.

Adapted from The New York Times
Makes about 20 bars
30 minutes preparation time
20 minutes cooking time, plus 2 to 3 hours for chilling

For the shortbread:
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup confectioners’ sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
12 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon-sized pieces
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the ganache:
1 cup heavy cream
3 Earl Grey teabags
12 ounces bittersweet chocolate (62% cocoa or more), finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt such as fleur de sel, for topping

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a food processor, pulse together the flour, cocoa, confectioners' sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt. Add the butter and vanilla and pulse again until the butter bits range in size from grains of sand to small pebbles. (Clark's recipe says to pulse until the mixture comes together in one mass. This didn't happen for me, but no matter, the shortbread still was excellent.)

Turn the dough out into a glass 9-by-13-inch pan and pat the mixture in firmly with the flat of a metal spatula or with your hands.

Bake until the shortbread is firm to the touch, about 25 minutes.

While the shortbread is baking, heat the cream in a small pan just until small bubbles appear along the inside perimeter of the pot. Add the teabags and set the cream aside to let it steep. After the tea has steeped for 5 to 10 minutes, remove the teabags one at a time, mashing each on the side of the pan with a wooden spoon to remove all of the concentrated tea flavor.

When the shortbread has finished cooking, remove it from the oven and set it aside to cool.

Meanwhile, put the chopped chocolate in a heatproof bowl. Heat the cream again, just until bubbles form at the perimeter of the pan. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and let it sit for a minute or two. Whisk together the cream and melted chocolate until the mixture is smooth.

Pour the ganache over the cooled shortbread and smooth it with a spatula. Sprinkle the coarse sea salt on top of the ganache. Cover the pan tightly with plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator to cool completely, 2 or 3 hours.

When you are ready to serve, cut the bars with a sharp knife. The first one may crumble a bit on the way out, but the others will come out easily.

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Curried Apple Slaw

Gray skies, brown grass, bare trees. Even in a low-snow winter, they leave this girl pining for fresh, green and crisp. Never mind that there are already green shoots pushing up from bulbs that have rightfully earned several more weeks of hibernation. There is something about winter that makes me crave salad.

And so I have been eating salad like a rabbit. Since many of our meals lately have been as guests of others, I almost always eat more than my share, looking both ways before picking up the salad bowl to ask, "Does anybody want more salad?" Who would dare say yes after seeing the the glint in my eyes?

Usually, I am satisfied with a green salad, often with greens from Chesapeake Greenhouse bought at the Farmers' Market (I have written before about them here). I don't even need many toppings, maybe just some carrots and a sprinkle of nuts. But recently I strolled the farmers' market looking for more seasonal vegetables for my creation. There was cabbage everywhere and apples are still in abundance. A slaw was born.


Oscar's reaction when I tried to tell him that he would just love the slaw ("You love apples! You love curry!") was unenthusiastic: "I love apples and I love curry, but they just don't go together." He stuck to that line and gave the slaw a pass, but the rest of us disagreed. All that crunchiness was excellent and the warmth of the curry played well with the sweet-tart of the apples.

It would go very well with one of those winter soups that I have also been eating in great quantities. We recently had it with Lemony White Bean Soup and the result was a table of happy rabbits.

February 2009: Suppli
February 2010: Fennel-Orange Slaw

February 2011: Lemony Jerusalem Artichoke Stew with Biscuit Top

Curried Apple Slaw

Serves 6
15 minutes preparation and cooking time

I chopped the vegetables for this slaw by hand because I like some variety in size and texture, but you could, by all means, use a grater or food processor. The choice of whether to peel the apples is yours. I peeled one and left the peel on the other for more color.

1 tablespoon curry
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 half small red cabbage (about 2 cups sliced)
2 granny Smith apples, peeled if you like, cored, and cut into matchsticks
2 scallions
1/4 cup toasted walnuts

Heat the curry in a small pan over medium heat, just until it becomes fragrant, about 1 minute. Pour it into a small bowl. Add the vinegar, lemon juice, and salt. Slowly whisk in the olive oil. Set aside.

In a medium-sized bowl, mix together the cabbage, apples, and scallions. Pour the dressing over the vegetables and stir well. Just before serving, add the toasted walnuts and stir again.

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Superbowl Roundup

Are any of you going to watch the Superbowl? I know that Oscar and Gabe are looking forward to it. We are all planning to watch, but for me the fun will be more that we're doing something together rather than the actual game-watching. Although if the game is close, I'll get pulled in. And of course there are the commercials to enjoy.

Here are a few recipes that might suit the occasion. It seems like the kind of event that requires simple, comfort food, nothing too healthy or too fancy.

 Nibbles:

Caramelized Onion Dip

 Homemade Soft Pretzels

Roasted Tomatillo Salsa

Main courses:

Smokin' Chili

Black Bean and Monterey Jack Casserole

Pumpkin Soup with an (Optional) Kick

Maybe an always popular side dish to break things up:

Kale Chips

A classic dessert:

Choco-Coco Pudding

Vanilla Bean Pudding

Chewy Peanut Butter Cookies

Classic Apple Pie

Lemony White Bean Soup

Here's another extremely easy soup for those of you who appreciate an all-in-one-pot, not-too-much-fuss meal. We made it on the hot plate in our temporary kitchen and I wondered why we hadn't made it more often. It used to be one of our favorites but for some reason it had fallen out of our rotation.

The soup is blended and the beans give it a hearty creaminess. A squeeze of lemon and a sprinkle of fresh parsley at the end give it some freshness. And because it is packed with protein it is an excellent meal on its own, or, even better, with a crisp salad on the side.

And it really is an extremely easy soup to make. Except for the garnishes, everything goes into the pot at once and then you're done. The beans have to be soaked and they simmer for a while to soften, but they don't even need to be chopped. Only the onion and the parsley go under the knife.

Otherwise, it just simmers away for a few hours, giving your kitchen (or basement, as the case may be) a coziness and giving you the appearance of working to make a delicious meal when you really are doing absolutely nothing. Or doing something better than nothing, like reading a book, or taking a nap. Wouldn't that be lovely?

February 2009: Sage Risotto with Wild Mushrooms
February 2010: Cauliflower Soup with Stilton
February 2011: Lemongrass Noodle Soup with Chili-Garlic Paste

Lemony White Bean Soup
Adapted from Martha Rose Shulman's Fast Vegetarian Feasts

This soup could be varied in an infinite number of ways by changing the garnish. A swirl of pesto, a dab of harissa, or a pat of butter would all be excellent additions. Alternatively, other herbs could be substituted for (or added to) the parsley, such as thyme, chives, or tarragon.

 Serves 6
15 minutes preparation time, plus time for soaking the beans
approximately 2 hours cooking time

1 pound white (Great Northern) beans
1 medium onion, diced
1 bouillon cube or 2 cups vegetable stock
1 bay leaf
salt and pepper to taste
juice or one lemon or more, to taste
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

Soak the beans overnight.

The next day, drain the water and add enough fresh water to cover the beans generously. Don't worry about the exact amount of water; more can be added during the cooking process, if needed. Add the onions, bouillon or stock, and the bay leaf. Season generously.

Bring the soup to a boil over medium-high heat. Once it is boiling, reduce the heat and let the soup simmer until the beans are very soft, about 2 hours. Check periodically throughout the cooking process to make sure the is enough water and give the beans a stir.

When the beans have finished cooking, remove the bay leaf. Puree with an immersion blender. Add the lemon juice and parsley. Serve immediately with more lemon on the side, if desired.

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Kitchen Renovation Update: The Final Sprint

We are almost there.

Things have progressed well over the last few weeks, and we finally have some surfaces, some appliances, and even a few lights.

For the counter tops, we decided to use Carrara marble. The marble was cheaper than granite and many of the quartz composites, and we just love the look and feel of it. The only drawback is that marble is not very durable. It scratches more easily than granite and some foods stain or etch it. In the end, though, we thought of all that marble that we had seen in Italy, some of it hundreds of years old. Yes, it wears down and discolors, but that patina is part of its beauty.

That's what the romantic in me says anyway.

The more practical side of me worries that we will obsess over it, but I am going to try very hard to let the romantic win. Check back with my kiddies in a few months and they'll let you know how I'm doing.

Once the countertops were in, they finished the floors, and, once the floors were finished, the appliances went in. Yesterday, the carpenter installed the cabinet panel onto the front of the dishwasher and the toe kick onto the bottom of the stove Both are now in working order. The refrigerator is humming, too.

There have been a couple of glitches with the appliances. The microwave we bought is too big for the space meant to house it, and somehow we ended up with an additional ice maker even though our refrigerator already has one. Our kitchen designer said she would buy the microwave from us and we are hoping that we can return the ice maker. As bumps go, then, they haven't been too bad.

For the top of the island, we had originally thought we would use butcher block. But my sister and her husband were planning to have some tables made for the Black Ankle tasting room, and Gabe and I went along to meet the craftsman, Keith Schoonover at Wood Eye Wood. It just so happened that he had a piece of black walnut almost the exact size of our island. We couldn't resist.

We left the live edge on it and we are loving the organic softness that it adds to the room. Again, Gabe and I will have to let go a bit and recognize that it will not stay perfect. I figure that after the kids go off to college, we'll sand it down and refinish it if we want to return it to its original luster.

There are still lots of details to be finished, like adding trim, additional painting, installation of the backsplash. We also have have had a tough time finding stools that we like that are not incredibly pricey. These tractor stools are gorgeous, but shockingly expensive.

Box by box, we have been bringing things up from the basement and stocking our new kitchen. It will take us a while to fully feel like we're back into the groove. Olivia said the other night that the kitchen doesn't feel like our house, and it does have that feeling of staying in a rental on vacation.

We are on the road back to a normal cooking routine now. Last night we even made a list of meals to cook for the week, and Gabe shopped. We're planning to cook every night. In fact, we may never eat out again.

Happy Third Anniversary

Today this little blog turns three.

In some ways it seems like no time at all, but when I look back at some of my early posts I realize how much time has passed.

Look at those missing teeth!
I had forgotten how short her hair was!
Ohhhhh, I loved that sweater.
Ugh. Look at that crummy photo.
I have got to make that recipe again soon.

Quite a trip down memory lane. Thank goodness there aren't many pictures of me or I'd have to count the new wrinkles.

I originally envisioned this blog as a place to share family recipes, but it has become much more than that. It has become a creative outlet for me, and my commitment to it has pushed me -- more than I realized it would -- to think of new recipes, to get creative with the camera, to write and rewrite.

Most of all, though, this blog has been a place to chronicle our family's everyday life, mostly through food, to be sure, but also through the joys and challenges of parenting. Getting our experiences down and sharing them with all of you has been incredibly rewarding. I love hearing from all of you, and I have gotten so many ideas, not only to try out in the kitchen, but also to spark my own approach to parenting and to life in general.

Thank you all for that.

A happy, happy, anniversary to you, dear readers. I hope we share many more.

Simple Creamy Tomato Soup

Can you stop after just one potato chip? Or two for that matter? Or, if your neighbors left some home made chocolate chip cookies on your doorstep and you bite into one and it is delicious, could you have just one? Or two?

Last weekend our contractors surprised me by hooking up our stove. I didn't know it was coming, but before they left on Friday they said we could use the stove over the weekend. Whoopee!

I cooked just two things before the tarps went back on for the next round of drywall-skimming-painting. First we made a galette des rois to mark the end of the Christmas season. I had planned to bake it at my sister's house but instead we baked it at home! And I broke that oven in very well, oozing butter all over the pristine bottom. (Note to self: next year, seal the edges of the galette completely and -- just in case -- use a cookie sheet with edges for baking it).

I also made a simple butternut squash soup. I just used what I had on hand, but it tasted like the best soup ever. Not because it was, but because we made it, at home, in our soon-to-be new kitchen. Never mind that I had to run up the stairs from our temporary basement kitchen about 30 times to get all that I needed. I cooked soup! On our new stove!

But I can't stop at that. Cooking those things just whet my appetite. Now I have the urge to cook more.

This weekend I whipped up a batch of another of our favorite soups, a simple creamy tomato soup. I love this recipe because the soup is very tasty, and we can make it even when we are running low on supplies or don't have the energy to make something more complicated.  As long as there are canned tomatoes in the pantry, we can make this soup, even with our limited supplies.

The soup can be topped with a wide variety of toppings, such as fresh herbs, toasted nuts, croutons, or a dollop of creme frâiche.

Best of all, we could make it on a hot plate.

Simple Creamy Tomato Soup
Adapted from Epicuious

Serves 6
10 minutes preparation time
30 minutes cooking time

3 tablespoons olive oil
2 small onions, diced
3 tablespoons flour
3 1/2 cups milk
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon sugar
2 teaspoons salt
2 28-ounce cans crushed tomatoes, preferably San Marzanos
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon dried thyme
2 tablespoons chopped herbs

In a large pot, heat the olive oil.  Add the onions and cook until they are soft, about 7 minutes.  Sprinkle in the flour and stir until it is incorporated into the onions and no longer visible. Add the thyme and stir again.

Chop the tomatoes or use my favorite method and squish them through your fingers as you take them out of the can. Add them to the pot and sprinkle the baking soda on top of them. Stir to combine fully. Add the remaining ingredients and bring the mixture to a simmer.  Gently simmer for a few minutes to give the flavors a chance to mix and mellow. Remove the bay leaf. Purée with an immersion blender. 

Stir in the herbs, if you are using them. Serve immediately.

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Mom's Apple Butter

Going into this kitchen project, I thought I had prepared myself mentally to be without a kitchen for a few months. I envisioned whipping up one-pot soups and stews on the hot plate, and I figured we'd use the grill nearly everyday. I even thought that I would do a series of recipes for this blog about cooking without a kitchen to build up a cache of recipes for others going through the same process.

The reality has been so very different, and I have learned a thing or two along the way.

For example, I now realize that a dishwasher not only washes the dishes for you, but it is a place to store those dirty dishes until you have time to clean them.

I have been thrown by how much I missed our modern conveniences. We had lived for years without a microwave, I love camping cooking, and I actually prefer hand washing dishes to unloading the dishwasher. Besides, I love old fashioned things, like toys without lights and buzzers, hand-made gifts, food made from the basics.

But washing dishes in the laundry room utility sink has been a drag. If there are any dirty dishes in the sink we can't do laundry without getting our dishes full of gray laundry rinse water. If we pile them up on top of the washer and dryer -- conveniently the nearest flat surfaces to the sink -- we can't do laundry. Instead, we have been piling our dirty dishes wherever we can find a space until we are ready to wash them, destroying any partition between dirty and clean.

More times than I'd like to admit, I have picked up a glass, squinted at it to try to assess whether it was dirty or clean, and used it anyway. (Maybe that explains the colds I seem to be getting repeatedly this winter!)

I have also learned that cooking for me is, at least in part, about the enjoyment of the process and the beauty of the food. I have lifted myself out of a grumpy mood many times in my life by heading into the kitchen and chopping onions and garlic, or whipping up a cake.

But trying to cook when the knife and food are a room apart on surfaces littered with our day-to-day life in our temporary kitchen-dining room-living room-office-laundry-room? Not inspiring. Which explains why I can count on one finger the number of complete meals that I have whipped up during this period. And it only takes one other finger to count the number of blog recipes that I have created during that same period.

I also have gotten really good at accepting food and dinner invitations. Maybe too good, leaping at offers made in that casual, "we should have you over sometime" kind of way. Do you think whipping out my calendar to lock them into a date and time when a friend throws out that kind of offer is too pushy? "How about Monday? Oh, that doesn't work? Well, we're free Tuesday. This Tuesday is bad? Wednesday is good for us..."

In all seriousness, though, the extra time that we have spent with friends and family has been the best unexpected perk of this process.

I have also learned that dust knows no limits. I thought that there would be lots of dust on the first floor, but that we would still be able to retreat to the sanctuary of our bedrooms to escape all of that chaos. Ha!

I have been flossing dust out of my teeth at night. It is upstairs on our dressers, under our beds, on the plants, on the toys and clothes that we had piled up to give away. Now I've gotten to the point where I see that fine layer of dust on my desk or on the printer and I just look the other way. Why clean it off now when it will be back tomorrow? Soon, though, dust, when this is over, I'll be coming for you with my microfiber dust cloth and a vacuum. You have been warned.

Nothing breeds chaos like chaos. Having our house turned upside down and construction stuff everywhere brings out the tendency we already have to leave our own stuff everywhere. And the stuff expands in close quarters. I have a new respect for people who live in one room with family. On the one hand, it was fun to be in one room during our waking hours. That evening time for homework and dinner prep (such as it was) felt like social time. But if we ever need to downsize into a studio apartment, we are going to do some serious de-cluttering first.

But there have been times when I found a chair that wasn't piled with stuff, sat down, and cracked open a jar of my mother's familiar apple butter. I smear it on a piece of toast or a peanut butter sandwich, bite into it and savor its perfect combination of spice, apple, and lemony tang, and realize: this is still home.

Second Helping: Spiced Roasted Pears
Thirds: Pear and Almond Cake

Mom's Apple Butter

20 to 30 minutes preparation time
approximately 1 hour cooking time (more if canning)
Makes 7-8 pints apple butter

8 pounds tart apples, quartered and cored
5 cups granulated sugar
2 cups brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 teaspoons cinnamon
2 teaspoons ground cloves
1 teaspoon all spice
zest and juice of 2 lemons

Put a couple of plates in the refrigerator to chill.

Put the apples in a large stockpot and cover them with 2 cups of water. Bring them to a simmer and cook until the apples are very soft, about 20 minutes.

While the apples are still hot, carefully scoop them into the bowl of a food processor and purée until smooth (the skins will purée more finely when they are hot).

Return the apples to the stockpot and add the remaining ingredients. Cover the pot and heat the mixture over low heat until the sugar dissolves, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon. Remove the cover and continue stirring and cooking until the mixture thickens.

To test to see if the mixture is sufficiently thick, put a teaspoon of the apple butter on one of the chilled plates and return it to the refrigerator.  After a minute, remove it and tilt the plate.  Most of the apple butter should remain in the center of the plate, while some of it -- especially the more liquid portion -- will slowly spread out towards the edge of the plate.  When the preserves have firmed up to this extent, pour them into storage jars.

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New Year 2012

Happy New Year to all of you!

I always envy those of you that don't make resolutions. It speaks to me of a confidence and comfort with your life just as it is. I wish I had that certainty. Instead, turning the corner into a new year fills me with ideas about what I might do differently or better. Right now my head is swirling with ideas about what I should change, everything from baking more bread, to walking every day, to drinking more bubbly wine (borrowed from my sister). All excellent ideas.

But one idea, based on this Chronicles of Momnia post, keeps coming back to me. I'd really like to slow down and be still enough to take in what is happening around me while it is happening. I am by nature a multi-tasker (I was so glad when they coined that term with its positive connotation), always thinking what I can do at the table next to my children while they do their homework or on the sidelines of baseball practice. Too often, I don't really absorb the events until afterwards, when I stop to fully appreciate my children's experiences.

I know it will be difficult for me to change that, but I want to soak in this time in my children's lives. With Olivia in her tweens, I am watching those teenage years emerge and realizing how fleeting the childhood years are. Now that I've committed here, in this public space, I am hoping that I will work harder to make it happen.

As far as food-related resolutions, in 2010, we had our family meal project and, last year, we started doing Sunday suppers. I thought I'd be able to continue the Sunday suppers throughout the kitchen construction, whipping up delicious soups and stews on our hot plate. But that has been far from our reality. This year's food resolution, then, will be to get those suppers back on track. And I think I should be able to mix in some more homemade bread and glasses of bubbly.

What about you? Any resolutions you're willing to share, or are you not a resolution maker?

I wish you all a healthy, peaceful, and delectable 2012.

Happy Christmas 2011

Boom. Suddenly it's Christmas. All the thinking and planning is done and the day is here.

With the construction still going on in our house, I feel a bit off kilter. There has been no baking and only minimal decorating. We won't have our taditional Christmas morning brioche or our traditional torta rustica for dinner.

And yet, I have everything I need for a lovely Christmas. We are all healthy, and we are together. We have tidied up a corner of our living room, and dusted it thoroughly so that we have a serene place to start our day, although it is unlikely to stay serene for long.

The children have taken the gift giving to a new level this year. For the first time, they have bought gifts with their own money or made them themselves and there has been much planning and colluding. Like the rest of us, they now wait with anticipation and a bit of apprehension to see whether their gifts hit the mark.

We again will celebrate our Christmas over 12 days. We will open the gifts from Santa on the first day and then parcel out the remaining gifts over the subsequent days. Some days we won't open any gifts at all, but will enjoy a special activity together. I am looking forward to every minute of it.

I wish you all a happy, happy Christmas, and delightful days ahead with your loved ones.

Kitchen Renovation Update: Coming Together

Since Thanksgiving, there has been great progress on the kitchen project. First, the drywall went up on the walls and ceiling, then the wood floors went in. I realized after a few people asked me what kind of floor we had chosen that it never occurred to us to put in anything but hardwood. The kitchen floors had been wood before and it is what we have in the rest of the house. It gave me a twinge of doubt thinking that we should have explored other options, but I have talked myself out of it. We love the wood floors elsewhere in the house; why would this room be any different?

After the walls and the floor went in, the cabinets were installed. As I perused books and magazines before this project started, I realized that the kitchens I loved the best were ones with an eclectic mix of colors and materials. Somehow they seemed more organic and homey to me. We have tried to replicate that feel. Most of the cabinets are cherry, but on the wall above the sink we opted for white cabinets. The hood for our range will be built from drywall and we thought it would look odd to have the cabinets on either side be cherry. Instead, we hoped that if the surrounding cabinets were also white, they would recede visually and the hood and range would become the focus.



The island cabinets are also wood, but we had them stained with a dark finish to set them off and to make the island appear more like furniture. The kitchen is narrow and we didn't want anything too heavy looking. I have been nervous about the decision to go with so many colors since we ordered the cabinets. But now that they're in, I think it's going to work. Phew!

The next steps will be the installation of the counter tops, painting, installation of the appliances, and finishing the floors. Unfortunately, we won't be done by Christmas, so we won't be having that dust-free Christmas that I had requested from Santa.

Although on one level I would love the project to be done, the time has allowed me to get used to the changes and to savor the process. It is not often that we will have an opportunity to completely overhaul a room, and I am glad that we have time to see the transformation take place and to noodle over details like light fixtures and hardware. The anticipation and planning are part of the fun.

Besides, if they had finished just before Christmas I would have felt pressure to clean like mad and to get the house in order. Instead, I will take a deep breath, try to look beyond the dust and chaos, and focus on being with my family. And head to my parents' house for a calm, clean Christmas dinner.

For those of you celebrating Hannukah beginning today, I hope that you have a joyous 8 days!

Chocolate Bark Three Ways

Normally at this time of year we are baking furiously, making cookies to package up and give away. Along with a bottle of Black Ankle wine, these are our favorite gifts to take along to a party or to give to the wonderful teachers that work so hard throughout the year.

Without an oven, we knew that there wouldn't be any baking this year, but I still wanted to come up with something that we could make and give away, something conjured up by us.

Chocolate bark popped to mind. We have a hot plate, which is all we would need to melt the chocolate. Then we would just need cookie sheets to spread the chocolate and a refrigerator (or freezer) for cooling. It seemed like something that we could manage, even with our rudimentary kitchen.

The great thing about bark, too, is that once the chocolate is melted, it can be flavored in an infinite number of ways. After some discussion, we came up with three flavors to try: dark chocolate with dried cherries and pine nuts, peppermint bark, and dark chocolate with coconut and curry. We fired up the hotplate and in a couple of hours we had a beautiful assortment of chocolate bark. It felt so good to be cooking together again, making something fun and delicious.

Now we just have to find a pretty way to package them up. Any ideas? Presentation is not my strong suit. After we've packaged up our little bundles, we'll make the rounds and hand them out out, my second favorite part of the process.

Second Helping: Homemade Gingerbread Houses
Thirds: Stained Glass Cookies

Dark Chocolate Bark with Pine Nuts and Dried Cherries

Makes 20 to 30 pieces of bark (depending on how small you break the pieces)
15 minutes preparation time
15 minutes cooking time, plus time for chilling

12 ounces dark chocolate (60% cocoa)
1/4 cup chopped dried cherries
1/2 cup pine nuts

Toast the pine nuts by putting them in a skillet over medium heat and tossing them just until they're lightly browned, about 5 minutes.

Bring a medium-sized pot of water to a boil. Turn the heat down to low. Put the chocolate, broken or chopped into large pieces, in a metal bowl and set it on top of the simmering water. When the chocolate has melted, stir in the chopped cherries and the pine nuts.

Turn a cookie sheet upside down and cover it with a piece of parchment paper. Pour the chocolate out onto the parchment paper and spread it evenly over the paper with a spatula. An offset spatula will result in the smoothest finish, but a rubber spatula works just fine, too.

You should end up with a rectangle that's about 10 x 13 inches in size. Put the tray in the refrigerator or freezer to cool. It only takes about 15 minutes in the freezer. When the chocolate has cooled completely, break it into small pieces. Store in an airtight container, between sheets of wax paper until ready to eat or package to give away.

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Curried Dark Chocolate Bark

Makes 20 to 30 pieces of bark (depending on how small you break the pieces)
5 minutes preparation time
15 minutes cooking time, plus time for chilling

Our original idea was to add coconut milk as well, but it separated and we ended up with a mess. On our second go round, we just used the curry with a sprinkling of sea salt on top, and we loved the combination of flavors.

1 1/2 teaspoons curry
12 ounces bittersweet chocolate (70 % cocoa)
pinch sea salt

Toast the curry in a small frying pan over medium heat, just until it is fragrant, about a minute.

Bring a medium-sized pot of water to a boil. Turn the heat down to low. Put the chocolate, broken or chopped into large pieces, in a metal bowl and set it on top of the simmering water. When the chocolate has melted, stir in the curry.

Turn a cookie sheet upside down and cover it with a piece of parchment paper. Pour the chocolate out onto the parchment paper and spread it evenly over the paper with a spatula. An offset spatula will result in the smoothest finish, but a rubber spatula works just fine, too.

You should end up with a rectangle that's about 10 x 13 inches in size. Put the tray in the refrigerator or freezer to cool. It only takes about 15 minutes in the freezer. When the chocolate has cooled completely, break it into small pieces. Store in an airtight container, between sheets of wax paper until ready to eat or package to give away.

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Peppermint Bark

Makes  20 to 30 pieces of bark (depending on how small you break the pieces)
15 minutes preparation time
15 minutes cooking time, plus time for chilling

12 ounces white chocolate
8 candy canes (about 4 ounces)

Take the candy canes out of their wrappers and wrap them in a plastic bag. Wrap the bad in a dish towel and smash the candy canes with a rubber mallet.

Bring a medium-sized pot of water to a boil. Turn the heat down to low. Put the chocolate, broken or chopped into large pieces, in a metal bowl and set it on top of the simmering water.

Turn a cookie sheet upside down and cover it with a piece of parchment paper. Pour the white chocolate out onto the parchment paper and spread it evenly over the paper with a spatula. An offset spatula will result in the smoothest finish, but a rubber spatula works just fine, too. Sprinkle the peppermint bits evenly over the top of the white chocolate.

You should end up with a rectangle that's about 10 x 13 inches in size. Put the tray in the refrigerator or freezer to cool. It only takes about 15 minutes in the freezer. When the chocolate has cooled completely, break it into small pieces. Store in an airtight container, between sheets of wax paper until ready to eat or package to give away.

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The Flu, Good Books, and Ginger-Baked Apples

We have been felled by the flu. I woke up Wednesday morning, went for my early morning walk, showered, and crawled back into bed. And that is where I stayed for the next three days. Olivia followed a day after me, and Chloe the day after that. Somehow the boys have stayed healthy, and as their reward they have gotten to take care of the rest of us.

I'll spare you the details of the down side; I'm sure you have had the opportunity to experience those for yourselves. Surprisingly, though, there have been some up sides. Usually I'm just sick enough to feel miserable and go to bed early, but I'm still shuffling around trying to work and get things done. Having everything grind to a halt has its benefits.

I have enjoyed my times snuggling in bed with Chloe and Olivia and, even though we haven't been healthy, we have had time to talk and giggle.

Gabe and Oscar have been very sweet, preparing and bringing us food and drink, running errands, keeping the day-to-day chores like dishes and laundry under control, and continually checking on us to see how we are doing.

There has also been a certain snow day-like quality to our sick days, too. Our activity has slowed down considerably and we aren't rushing to go anywhere or to do anything. We're staying close to home, focusing on our basic needs, very much in the present, just being, rather than doing.

Finally, I have done more reading in the last 5 days than I have done in a long time. It has been such a pleasure to get lost again and again in the pull of a good book. I'd love to tell you that it was all very highbrow, but sick bed reading should have its own section in the book store. Here's the recap:

- City of Bones by Cassandra Clare - Continuing my indulgence in teen fiction, er, I mean, my efforts to keep on top of what my 11-year old daughter is reading, this is first of the Mortal Instruments series. There were so many werewolves, fairies, vampires, etc., mixed in among the Shadowhunters that I had a bit of difficulty keeping track, but it was definitely a page turner. Maybe I'll do better when I'm reading without a fever. I'd recommend it to others who enjoyed The Hunger Games, Twilight, or Divergent.

- Two Kinsey Millhone Mysteries by Sue Grafton, "A" is for Alibi and V is for Vengeance. I have read some of the other books in this series, but not nearly all of them. It was fun to read the first and most recent books back to back, written nearly 30 years apart. There were some obvious differences (author's picture, loss of quotes in the title, increasing plot complexity) but both were thoroughly enjoyable and fast moving.

- One Year Off by David Elliot Cohen - The subtitle gives a good summary, "Leaving It All Behind for a Round-the-World Journey with Our Children." I would love to take a year off and travel around the world as a family, but the practical side of preparation and financing are a bit daunting. This book definitely has me thinking.

- The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner - Oscar has been recommending this Newberry winner to me for some time. I'm only about halfway through it, but I'm loving the tale of a smart-alec thief who is pulled out of jail by the king's men to steal a precious stone for him.

- The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick - We read this to the children when the book first came out and, with its compelling story about a boy who winds the clocks in a Paris train station and its beautiful illustrations, it ranks as one of my all-time favorites. The children didn't remember it very well, so I wanted to read it again before we see the movie (and to get a sense of whether the movie will be too sad or scary for our sensitive Chloe).

What have you been reading?

Now we are slowly crawling out from under that flu. Our only excursions over the weekend were to see productions by Lumina Studio Theater (the first Act was an adaptation of Trolius and Cressida; the second, an adaptation of Measure for Measure) and the Washington Revels (the music was from Andalusia and the production was my favorite of the shows we have seen).

And we are tentatively making our way back into the world of food again. So far, it's been mostly soups and bland fare, toast, rice, but I'm almost ready to venture beyond that a bit.

If I had an oven, I'd bake some apples as a perfect little treat, or even as an antidote to the riches of the one-two punch of Halloween and Thanksgiving. The technique for baking these apples came from Gourmet, and the result is a baked apple that is still firm and holds its shape, rather than one that melts after being cooked. There is certainly room in this world for both types, but right now I am loving this firmer, chewier texture.

The first time I made these, I used too much ginger (a tablespoon) and the flavor was too strong, especially for the kiddies. I cut the amount back, and this achieves a better balance. Together, the lemon and ginger add a punch of freshness.

They'd be the perfect to serve alongside a good book.

Second Helping: Airy Apple Cake
Thirds: Caldo Verde (Portugese Potato and Kale Soup)

Ginger-Baked Apples

These apples are a simple, delicious dessert as they are, but if you'd like to fancy them up, a dollop of creme frâiche or ice cream on top would do the trick.

Adapted from Gourmet
Serves 6
30 minutes preparation time
45 minutes cooking time

6 medium-sized medium tart apples, such as Ida Reds, Fuji, or Honeycrisp
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Peel the apples and, leaving the apple intact, remove the core with a sharp knife or apple corer. This is a bit tricky without a corer. I found it easiest to slice the core out from one end, then flip the apple over and do the other end. Any little bits of core that remain in the center can be filed away afterwards with the knife, too.

Cut the apples across (latitudinally) into 1/4-inch slices and reform them into whole apples. Brush them with lemon juice.

In a small bowl, whisk together any remaining lemon juice with the lemon zest, ginger, sugar, and vanilla. Divide the mixture evenly among the apples, pouring a bit into the cavity of each apple.

Bake for 25 minutes, removing the apples to baste them with the pan juices two or three times during the cooking process. Reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees and bake, continuing to baste frequently, until the apples are tender and the sauce has thickened, about 20 minutes more.

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Thanksgiving 2011

I am so behind the ball this year that I haven't yet written about Thanksgiving, my very favorite holiday. A day devoted to family, food, and gratitude is the best.

I felt a bit off balance this year, not being able to cook at home or to host dinner, but the day still was filled with the things that matter most. I have been thinking about them all week and before the holiday completely slips from my grasp, I wanted to take a moment to capture a few of them, in no particular order.

~ My parents, whose patience, thoughtfulness, and kindness inspire me more all the time.

~ My siblings, for being my best friends throughout my life.

~ Pie.

~ Olivia, Oscar and Chloe's infectious enthusiasm, whether it is for a new game (hangman is the latest craze around here), a bike ride, or an afternoon at the movies.

~ Black Ankle Vineyards and the sister and brother-in-law who so graciously share it with me. The wine isn't too shabby either.

~ Gabe, for keeping me sane while the house is literally crumbling into dust around us.

~ The pleasure of pulling off of a busy road to find a huge swath of park that seems like a world away.

~ Buddy, shedding hair, stinky breath, and all.

~ Blog readers who keep coming back!

~ Neighbors and friends who have offered to feed us while our kitchen is under construction. Oh how those offers have buoyed us.

~ Hope and its eternal spring.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and that its spirit lingers with you long into December.

 

 

Garlicky Cuban Yuca (or is it Yucca?)

Apparently we need a new song. Yes, thanks to George and Ira Gershwin, we have "you say potato, I say patahto," but we also need "you spell it yucca, I spell it yuca."

According to Wikipedia, the plant we eat is known as "yuca," whereas the perennial shrub is "yucca." A quick search on epicurious revealed lots of recipes for "yuca" but also one for "yucca." Hmmmm. Even the venerable Versailles Cuban restaurant in Miami has it both ways on the menu, suggesting that in Spanish it is spelled "Yuca," but in English it's "Yucca."

I am thoroughly confused. But I think I have more often seen it in restaurants as "yuca", and, most importantly, my Cuban husband spells it "yuca" and the man is an excellent speller. So I'm going with the Cuban on this one.

To confuse things even more, yuca is also known in South America and Africa as cassava or as manioc. Whatever you call it and however you spell it, yuca is a starchy root vegetable that provides much of the world with those essential carbohydrates.

In this version, commonly seen in Cuban restaurants, the yuca is boiled until it is tender, then smothered in garlic oil and baked. We made it in Corolla as part of a Cuban meal with black beans, tostones, and mojitos. Yum!

Garlicky Cuban Yuca

Serves 6
20 minutes preparation time
20-30 minutes cooking time

2 large yuca roots
6 garlic cloves
1/4 cup olive oil
salt to taste

Peel the yuca. This isn't the easiest of tasks because the skin is thick and hairy, but use a sharp knife and cut the skin off of one side first. Then set that side on your cutting board to give some stability while you peel the other sides. Cut the yuca into large chunks. If there is a thick, woody fiber running through the pieces, scape it out with the point of a potato peeler.

Put the yuca in a large, oven-proof stockpot, cover it with water, and add a few dashes of salt. Bring the water to a boil and cook the yucca until it is tender when poked with a sharp knife (it will not be as tender as potato; more like cauliflower). Depending on the size of your chunks, this will take at least 20 minutes, so begin testing it when you hit the 20 minute mark.

While the yuca is cooking, prepare the garlic oil. In a mortar and pestle, mash the garlic until it is reduced to small chunks. Scrape it into a small bowl, add the olive oil, a few sprinkles of salt, and mix.

When the yuca has cooked, drain the water off. Return the yuca to the pot, and add the garlic oil. Serve immediately or keep in a covered dish in the oven until you are ready to serve.

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Vacation Snapshots: Corolla, North Carolina

We snuck off for a vacation last week. It felt very decadent, pulling the kids out of school for a week and taking off of work just to get away. But friends of ours had rented a huge, beautiful house on the Outer Banks and, in addition to the great company and beautiful scenery that the trip offered, we were thrilled to get away from the dust and chaos at home.

So off we went. We did some walking, running, kite flying, hot tubbing, even a bit of swimming, cocktail sipping, card playing, shell gathering, treasure hunting, and lots and lots of lounging. On top of all of that, one of our friends is a marine biologist and she answered all of our questions about the treasures that washed up on the shore. Just one example: after years of thinking these black pouches were some type of sea vegetation, I learned that they are shark egg pods!









Looking at these pictures it almost looks like it was summer down there. We did have a few warm days sprinkled in between wind storms, but even on the cold days nothing stopped the kids from getting into that water and swimming and swimming. We adults each braved the water at least once, but most of the time, we looked like this:

Tamari-Roasted Almonds

As I mentioned before, I had a burst of cooking energy before the wrecking ball left us without a kitchen. These tamari almonds were one of the things that I made to squirrel away for our time without a kitchen.

Nuts are such a healthy and tasty snack, but our kids have not been consistent fans. A handful of nuts with a piece of fruit makes a quick (and portable) snack for the kids and I'm always looking for something with a bit of protein to keep their energy levels and moods from spiking.

Lately Chloe has been willing to eat the tamari almonds from Whole Foods which is a huge step, but they're quite pricey and it seemed that it would be very easy to make them at home. Indeed they were. A toss in some tamari and a quick bake were all it took, and Chloe has been making her way through the jar.

Tamari-Roasted Almonds

5 minutes preparation time
30 minutes cooking time

3 cups whole, raw almonds
1/3 cup tamari
pinch of sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Roast the raw almonds in the oven for 10 minutes. In a mediumsized bowl, mix the tamari and sugar together. Remove the almonds from the oven and toss them with the tamari mixture.

Return the almonds to the oven and bake until they are slightly darker, about 20 minutes.

Remove from the oven and let cool completely. The nutw will keep for to a month in an airtight container.

Kitchen Renovation Update: Wrecking Ball

Our kitchen project is now in full swing. The wall between the old kitchen and dining room is down and we can see the space that the new kitchen will inhabit. The floor is gone down to the subfloor.

Of course, in a 70 year old house, there are bound to be some surprises and our biggest so far (unfortunately, the mice weren't actually a surprise) is that there was no insulation at all in our walls. I thought that maybe it was just because it was thought that the kitchen would always be warm, but there was no insulation in the dining room wall at all either.

The contractor thought that the best approach would be to take down the old walls and add insulation before building them back up. So that's what we're doing. We realize now that it is likely that none of the walls in our house have insulation. Brick and concrete are themselves fairly good insulators, but we may want to add some more insulation. But not now. That will definitely be a project for another day. Right now, it's all about the kitchen.

Autumn Granola

Before we started our construction, I went through a flurry of cooking. I was freaked out by the idea of not being able to cook for so long and I wanted to make sure that we had a stash of some of our staples. We were completely out of granola, so a new batch was high on my list. We still are fans of that almond granola, but now that the weather has cooled and leaves are crunching under our feet, I wanted something that felt more like the season.

The spices that resonate most with me this time of year are those that seem to carry heat in their flavors--cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves. They are the same spices that infuse a chai latte or pumpkin pie. Pecans seemed like the nut most appropriate to the season, maybe because I had pecan pie somewhere in the back of my mind, and, of course, I had to throw in some pumpkin seeds. The result is not wildly different from our old favorite, but it has satisfied that urge for something more autumnal.

I made a double batch so we have a nice, big stash. I don't think it will quite get us to the end of the construction process, but it sure is nice to have some homemade treats along the way.

Second Helping: Brown Sugar Cookies
Thirds: Lavender-Cheddar Muffins

Autumn Granola

Makes about 6 cups
15 minutes preparation time
1 hour baking time

3/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/3 cup water
3 1/2 cups rolled oats
1 1/2 cups whole pecans
1 cup pumpkin seeds
1/4 cup sesame seeds
1/2 cup sunflower seeds
1/2 cup raisins or other dried fruit

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.

In a small pot, mix together the brown sugar, maple syrup, spices, salt, vanilla, olive oil, and water.  Bring to a boil, then turn off the heat and set the mixture aside.

In a large bowl, mix the oats, pecans, pumpkin seeds, sesame seeds, and sunflower seeds.  Pour the maple syrup mixture into the bowl and mix thoroughly so that the oats and nuts are completely coated.

Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.  Pour the granola onto the sheets and spread it out evenly into a single layer.  Bake for about 50 minutes, watching to make sure that the pecans do not get too dark.  About half way through, remove each tray and gently push the granola around the tray to break up any clumps.

Remove the granola from the oven and let it come to room temperature on the baking sheets, then add the raisins. The granola will keep for several weeks in an airtight container.

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Happy November

I hope you had a boo-tiful weekend and that the week ahead is good to you.

Caramel Apples

We have spent a lot of time these last few weeks getting ready for the kitchen project. We've cleaned, packed, organized, sorted, boxed, and schlepped loads of stuff, way more than I thought could fit in that kitchen and dining room. And we tried to prepare ourselves emotionally, taking a bit of time out to reminisce and honor all of the good times that we had in those rooms.

But still I wanted us to have one last family cooking project before that kitchen went into the history books. We had been apple picking at Larriland Farms and talked about making caramel apples, so one day before the walls came tumbling down, we pushed aside the debris and dusted off a swath of counter top. We stirred and stirred and stirred and twirled and had ourselves a good old time making these delicious apples.

We thought about using the finished apples as Halloween treats for "ghosting" our neighbors, but they were so good that we ended up hoarding them for ourselves.

I will confess that there was one point when I was waiting and waiting for that caramel to get hot enough that I thought I had lost my mind. Why was it that I thought we could squeeze this in to our already extremely busy day? But once I saw how happy the kids were biting into those sweet crunchy apples, I had no regrets. I hope that we will all hold the memory of that evening together for years to come. Even if the apples are long gone.

I found a recipe for caramel apples on 101 Cookbooks that I loved for its simplicity, essentially cream and honey. The honey was excellent with the apples. I tweaked the recipe just a bit, but it would be very easy to do more to it, such as increasing the salt content in this recipe or adding a sprinkling of salt after the apples are removed from the pan and making these Salted Caramel Apples. I'm going to have to give that a try. You could also roll the cooled apples in other toppings such as chopped nuts, coconut, or chocolate chips. We loved them just as caramel apples, simple and pure.

Second Helping: Dinner in a Pumpkin (perfect for Halloween!)
Thirds: Pumpkin Cupcakes with Lemon Cream Cheese Frosting

Caramel Apples

If you'd like to deviate from the classic caramel apple, after the apples have cooled in the refrigerator for a few minutes, add a sprinkling of sea salt or roll the apples in a topping such as coconut, chopped nuts, or mini chocolate chips.

Makes 8 caramel apples
15 minutes preparation time
approximately 1 hour cooking time, plus time for chilling

8 small, tart apples
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup honey
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt

other equipment: 8 chopsticks or short, thick skewers

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper. Make room in the refrigerator for the cookie sheet and make sure that the refigerator shelf is positioned so that there is enough room above to accommodate the apples with their chopsticks/skewers. Wash the apples and place a chopstick or skewer into the stem end of each one. Line them up on the cookie sheet.

Place a small sauce pan over medium low heat and add the cream. When small bubbles appear at the edge of the pan, add the honey, vanilla and salt and stir with a wooden spoon to fully incorporate the ingredients.

Bring the mixture to a boil, then lower the heat, keeping the mixture at a low simmer. It may take a while to get the temperature of the caramel right so that it simmers and continues to get hotter, but doesn't foam up too high. Continue to heat the caramel, stirring frequently, until it reaches 248 to 250 degrees. This will take a long time, maybe about 40 minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat and set it aside to cool for a few minutes. When the temperature of the caramel has cooled to 190 degrees, dip an apple. The caramel should be liquid enough that it is easy to dip the apple, but thick enough that the caramel doesn't immediately run off. If it is too thin, let it cool a bit more. If it is too thick, place the pan again over low heat and stir for a few seconds.

Carefully dip each apple into the caramel until it is almost completely submerged. Lift it out of the caramel and let it any excess caramel drip off. Turn the apple upright and hold it there for about 30 seconds to give the caramel a chance to set. Roll the apple from side to side, evening out the caramel coating and allowing it to firm up. Place the apple onto the parchment paper to cool. Repeat with the remaining apples.

If the caramel stops sticking to the apples or gets very thick, return it to the heat and just bring it to a simmer. Removethe pan from the heat and begin dipping apples again.

Put the tray of apples in the refrigerator to cool for about 15 minutes. Remove them and, if you like, press any caramel that has pooled onto the tray back onto the apples (we thought it was fine to have a bit of pooling. It leaves the apple with a nice ridge of caramel right on the top when you flip it over to eat it).

Return the apples to the refrigerator to finish cooling. When they have cooled completely, wrap them in plastic wrap or wax paper to store.

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Renovation Update: Let the Games Begin

It's official. The work has begun.

The weekend before they started, I had a bout of nostalgia. I started thinking of all the events that took place in that kitchen and dining room. Baptism parties, birthday parties, big family dinners, holiday dinners, and dinner together, just the five of us. That dining room has been the hub of our day-to-day lives, too, the place where we have done homework, work, projects, arts and crafts. Many a blog post has been written there, too.

Some of those that we loved and shared those times with are no longer with us. And the babies are no longer babies.

I needed something to help us through the transition. For the children, I thought some drawing on the wall would help. We had cousins and friends help us and the expressions on that wall ranged from the sentimental to silly. All kinds of stuff got worked out there. Olivia expressed her sadness that the wall was coming down, Chloe sketched the rain cycle that they were discussing at school, and Oscar drew "creepy teenagers," which seem to have entered his consciousness these days.

Me, I found a quote from the Scottish poet, John McLeod from his poem Sandcastles that helped me, "Sweet memories enhance the backwards glance." Sweet memories indeed.

Soft Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes, Herbs, and Sour Cream

Over time, we've developed a yen for soft scrambled eggs, eggs that are cooked just until the yolks and whites are fully cooked, but no longer. Perfectly done, they are tender and moist and not the least bit dry. Our trip to Paris, during which we had the most excellent scrambled eggs, sealed the deal for us.

Even though eggs are the most basic of foods, I find cooking them perfectly to be a challenge. When Olivia and ate brunch at Prune on our trip to New York, the eggs were perfect. My omelet was cooked completely and the outside was firm but not at all dry while the inside was still a bit runny. And Olivia's scrambled eggs were perfectly soft. I was impressed and renewed my determination to master the art of the perfect egg. First up, the soft scramble.

The key, Gabe read in Julia Child's My Life in France, is not to heat the pan too hot. Also, keep stirring them while they cook and remove them from the heat before they are completely cooked because they will continue to cook even after the pan is off the heat.

We often eat our scrambled eggs plain, but from time to time we also throw in extras like a bit of cheese, scallions, pesto, whatever is on hand. One of my favorite combinations is herbs and sour cream. A perfect little breakfast, right at home.

Soft Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes, Herbs, and Sour Cream

Serves 6
15-20 minutes preparation and cooking time

2 tablespoons butter
1 dozen eggs
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 cup fresh herbs such as parsley, chives, basil, tarragon, and/or thyme, chopped
1/4 cup sour cream

Heat a large saute pan over medium-low heat. Add the butter and swirl it around until it melts and completely coats the sides and bottom of the pan.

Add the eggs all at once. If the pan is the right temperature, there won't be any sizzle when the eggs hit the pan. Stir immediately with a wooden spoon. Continue to cook the eggs over medium-low heat, stirring constantly until they are almost completely cooked but are still shiny and moist. Remove them from the heat before they are completely cooked, because they will continue to cook in the hot pan. Add the herbs and tomatoes and stir again.

Serve immediately onto warmed plates and top each serving with a dollop of sour cream.

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Weekend Snapshots: Camping at Black Ankle Vineyards

This fall's camping excursion was to Sarah and Ed's vineyard. We camped there years ago when we were a much smaller family and the vineyard wasn't yet a vineyard. Sarah and Ed had just bought the property and we spent a very rainy camping night there with a two-year old Olivia and a baby Oscar. I remember Gabe trekking back to our car in the rain to get the Pac-n-Play because Oscar was too excited to go to sleep in the sleeping bag with us. Somehow we still had a great time. I think it was the company.

Nine years later, things were a lot easier. Mother Nature cooperated by giving us a picture perfect autumn weekend with warm days and crisp, cool nights. During the day, the children ran around the farm, looked for eggs, fed the pigs, got to know the cows, measured anything and everything, rode in the truck, and just ran around for the sake of running around. One of our friends, Gregg, brought a rocket and helped the kids assemble it and blast it sky high.

During the evenings, we sat around the camp fire, drank wine (some of us, anyway), made s'mores, and took turns building a story together about Hector, who traveled from Antartica to Mars, married a parrot, and lived at least two lives.

It was very generous of Sarah and Ed to suggest camping and to host all of us, but they may be sorry. It was such a great experience that we are likely to want to make it a regular thing.

Warm and Cozy Broccoli and Red Pepper Soup

What the heck happened to fall? I'm a fan of those crisp blue-skied days and cool nights, when you need a sweater or jacket in the morning but the layers peel off by lunch time. No such luck this year. Bam. Without any warning or time to get used to the idea, it feels like November. Suddenly we're in soup season.

Fortunately, we love soup.

It can be quite cozy to come inside out of the damp, gray weather to a warm house and tuck into a bowl of soup. Unfortunately for us, the first time we tried to crank up the heat, we got only a sputter. Our thermostat inside has been hovering around 60 degrees, which is a good bit chillier than my normal comfort level. Those few degrees don't seem like such a big difference numerically, but we've been feeling them in our bones. I've been walking around the house in a scarf, an extra sweater and handwarmers (very helpful keeping my hands warm while I type), and I'm acclimating. Maybe we'll be able to keep the thermostat a bit lower this winter.

The repair man came yesterday, tinkered with our 20-year old boiler, and said that there wasn't anything he could do for it. The end. Ugh.

Fortunately, we love soup.

Last weekend, Gabe bought broccoli to make a soup. For some reason, our kids all like broccoli soup, even though they won't always eat it as a side. This time around, we added red bell peppers because they are still available at the farmers' market and I thought they would add a bit of sweetness to the broccoli. The cumin and mustard add warmth to the flavor so that even our taste buds warmed up. In fact, just the smell of the soup simmering on the stove helped cut the chill.

Bring on the cold weather. I'm ready. And the nutrients from the soup will give us the strength to get through the boiler-buying process.

Second Helping: Corn and Green Bean Chowder
Thirds: Acorn Squash Stuffed with Curried Lentils

Warm and Cozy Broccoli and Red Pepper Soup

Serves 6
20 minutes preparation time
45 minutes cooking time

1 large head of broccoli (about 8 cups of florets)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onion, peeled and diced
2 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
1 medium potato, peeled and diced
1 medium red bell pepper, cored, seeded, and diced
1 teaspoon dry mustard
1 teaspoon cumin
2 to 3 sprigs fresh thyme (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper

Rinse the broccoli and cut off the stems as high up on the stalk as possible. Slice the stems across and dice them.

Heat the oil in a soup pot over medium heat and add the onion and garlic. Cook until the onion is soft, about 7 minutes. Add the potato, red pepper, and broccoli stems and saute for a minute or two. Add the mustard, cumin, salt and pepper and stir to combine. Cover the vegetables generously with water and bring to a simmer. Cook until all the vegetables are tender, about 15 minutes.

Puree the soup briefly with an immersion blender, just enough to thicken the soup. It should still be chunky. Add the broccoli florets and simmer until they are tender, but still bright green, 5 to 10 minutes depending on their size.

Serve immediately.

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Cooking with Mother Goose: Classic Apple Pie

Cooking with Mother Goose: A series of occasional posts inspired by children's stories and rhymes.


Simple Simon   

Simple Simon met a pieman,
Going to the fair;
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
Let me taste your ware.

Said the pieman to Simple Simon,
Show me first your penny;
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
Indeed I have not any.

Simple Simon went a-fishing,
For to catch a whale;
All the water he had got,
Was in his mother's pail.

Simple Simon went to look
If plums grew on a thistle;
He pricked his fingers very much,
Which made poor Simon whistle

I only remember the first verse of Simple Simon, but I think of it whenever I make a pie. It also reminds me of our friend Simon, although it is not the most favorable portrayal of a Simon, is it? Maybe someday we can write a new version in which Simon has a bit more fun. (Here's the Three Stooges' riff on it).

When I realized that I had never posted an apple pie recipe on this site, I knew I had to remedy that immediately. I use this site myself as an electronic database of our favorite recipes, and now that it's apple season, I know I will need an apple pie recipe again and again.

This recipe is just a simple pie recipe, but I tried to achieve the right balance of flavors, adding a bit of lemon and cardamom to go along with the more traditional spices. The lemony twist in the filling brightens up the apple flavor. The cardamom adds a bit of tang, too, although it also has an earthiness that complements the cinnamon and nutmeg. The filling was so good that I had to stop myself from eating it before I baked it into the pie.

So here's a simple apple pie recipe for Simple Simon, or anyone else who loves apple pie.

Second Helping: Triple Ginger Zucchini Bread
Thirds: Chunky Apple Muffins

Classic Apple Pie

Serves 8-10
Appriximately 60 minutes preparation time
60 minutes baking time

1 recipe basic pie crust
6 large apples (about 3 1/2 pounds), preferably a mix of varieties such as Honeycrisp, Granny
    Smith, and Jonagold, peeled, cored, and sliced
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 cup granulated sugar, plus 1 tablespoon
2 tablespoons unbleached all purpose flour
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

Make the dough according to the recipe and put it in the refrigerator to chill.

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Toss the apples in a bowl with the cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, 1/2 cup sugar, and flour. Add the lemon zest and juice and mix thoroughly.

After the dough has chilled, roll out the larger piece of dough and transfer it to a 9-inch pie plate. Scoop the apples into the crust, leaving behind any liquid.

Roll out the second piece of dough until it is about 10 inches in diameter and transfer it onto the top of the apple filling. Trim the edge of the crust to even it out, if necessary.  Fold the edges under and crimp the top and bottom crust together. Cut a few slits into the top crust. Sprinkle the remaining tablespoon of sugar over the top of the pie. 

Bake the pie on the bottom rack of the oven for 10 minutes, then turn the oven temperature to 350 degrees and cook for about 50 minutes longer, until the crust is lightly browned and the filling is bubbling.  If the crust begins to brown too quickly, tent a piece of foil over the top.

Let the pie cool for at least an hour to let it set.

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Weekend Snapshots: New York City

I truly treasure my times with just one of my children. It's a time to peel away all the busyness of our everyday lives and just focus on being together. Before the children started elementary school, I took each on a weekend trip away, just the two of us.

With Olivia starting middle school this year, we're keeping the tradition going. A couple of weekends ago, she and I set off for New York for some mother-daughter time. I treasured being with her, talking or not talking as much as we wanted, walking around the city, and entertaining ourselves with Olivia-focused activities. We even practiced our eye rolling, to be sure we have that mastered for the tween and teen years (although neither of us really needs much practice).

Our first stop was the Discovery Harry Potter exhibit (now closed). It was filled with lots of props, costumes, and information about the making of the movies, which might have been a bit much for the casual fan, but was great for my Potter-obsessed daughter.

We also went to see War Horse at Lincoln Center Theater. Olivia and I had both read the book, written for children, in preparation for the play. The movement of the horses was amazing; the puppeteers faded away after a while and the horses became real. Set during World War I, the story is a bleak one threaded with moments of redemption. Now Steven Spielberg is turning it into a movie, which should be interesting, although it may be too much of a war movie for Olivia to enjoy.

Other highlights included strolling through Central Park, dinner at Red Rooster Harlem, where Olivia asked for and received the recipe for the crust of our blueberry cobbler, a perfectly prepared brunch at Prune, and shopping in the East Village.

Mostly, though, just being together was the highlight. It is an interesting age, this middle school time. Olivia still has one foot in childhood, but is definitely carving out her own place in the world.

Mostly it is wonderful to see my sweet daughter become her own person, but it's also hard to let go of the little girl that I still see in her. I realize that she has the same mixed emotions about her own steps out of childhood. Maybe we'll get through it together.

Herbed Ricotta-Feta Spread

We had a brief memorial for my aunt Midge over Labor Day weekend. It is stunning to me to think that 9 months have passed without her on this earth. In some ways I am getting used to the idea of her absence, but in other ways, the loss gets greater as day after day and event after event pass without her.

Her niece Maureen captured my feelings so beautifully at the service. I can't do her words justice, but the idea was: just because we go on with life, laugh, have fun, does not mean that we miss you any less. There is still a huge hole that we cannot fill and those moments of joy are bittersweet because you are not here to share them.

There are so many times when I want to call or visit to check in, to get advice, or just to chat. Although I may be learning to live with it, that feeling of absence does not go away.

The memorial did have a silver lining. I spent time getting to know family and friends of Midge's, some of whom I had met briefly over the years, but most of whom I barely knew. Each time I see them, I understand more and more why Midge loved them so much. Being all together in the house that she and my uncle shared for so many years made me feel that she was still very much a part of our lives. As my uncle said at the service, one of the beautiful things that she left behind was the love for each of us and the community that it created.

Midge's niece Linda wanted to make sure that anyone who wanted a tangible remembrance of Midge could have one. She set out all of Midge's jewelry, and we all chose something to wear or just to cherish. Linda also found Midge's recipes and set them out for us. I loved that! Most of the recipes were for party dishes, dips, spreads or pot luck dishes that could turn an ordinary evening into a celebration. Very appropriate since Midge made the party wherever she went.

For some reason, this simple recipe jumped out at me. It's a simple cheese spread. The ricotta and herbs have a fresh bright flavor and the feta adds just the perfect touch of flavor. I've modified the ratio of ingredients a bit, but left Midge's original directions which are perfect in their simplicity.

Our children loved the spread as a dip or spread, but when I made sandwiches with it for school, two out of three came back uneaten. I guess dips are just more fun.

Midge would have known that.

Second Helping: Grilled New Potatoes
Thirds: Harvest Vegetable Tart with Parmesan Crust

Herbed Ricotta-Feta Spread

The dip can easily be made ahead, and may be even better made ahead because some sitting time gives the flavors a chance to develop. It will keep in the refrigerator for a few days.

Makes about 2 cups
15 minutes preparation time, plus time for chilling

1 cup ricotta
3/4 cup crumbled feta
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/4 cup chopped herbs such as parsley, thyme, and/or dill
1 tablespoon chopped chives or scallions

Mash all of the ingredients together with a fork. Chill for 30 minutes. Great on dark rye with tomato slices and sprouts.

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Creamy Hummus Salad Dressing

My favorite lunch these days is a bed of lettuce topped with whatever veggies we have in the refrigerator. Lately this has included cucumbers, peppers, green beans, and of course those excellent tomatoes. I often throw on a few crumbles of feta, some olives, and some toasted nuts and I have myself a delicious little (or not so little) lunch.

The only dilemma has been the salad dressing. I wanted something light and fresh that wouldn't overwhelm all of those great seasonal vegetables but I still wanted something tasty. And preferably creamy. Usually creamy dressings are so heavy, though, and with out new fall routine, we have been trying to eat healthier with more emphasis on fruits and vegetables.

Hummus already has a smooth and creamy texture, and thinned with a oil, vinegar and lemon juice and just a splash of water it made a salad dressing that fit the bill. The first time I made it, I added too much water to thin it, so I cut that back a bit and added more olive oil instead. I tossed in a handful of fresh herbs for some added flavor.

Think of the dressing as a base for whatever other flavors you'd like to add. Minced garlic or shallot, a pinch of hot pepper flakes, a dash of Sriracha sauce, a splash of soy sauce... the possibilities are endless. If only this produce season were too.

Second helping: Pea Shoot, Feta, and Olive Sandwich
Thirds: Classic Basil Pesto (much on my mind because I need to make a few batches to freeze.)

Creamy Hummus Salad Dressing

Makes approximately 1 cup
15 minutes preparation time

1/2 cup hummus
1 tablespoon water
1 tablespoon lemon juice or red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 to 1/2 cup fresh herbs such as chives, parsley, basil, thyme, or oregano
any other seasonings you'd like to add, such as minced garlic or shallot, a pinch of hot pepper
    flakes, a dash of Sriracha sauce, a splash of soy sauce
salt and pepper to taste

Whisk all the ingredients together in a measuring cup or small bowl. Just before serving, drizzle the dressing over the salad and toss. The amount of dressing that you need will depend on the size of your salad. I like to make sure that each lettuce leaf is coated.

Leftovers will keep in the refrigerator for about a week.

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Fresh Figs with Ricotta, Honey, and Pistachios

Some days it all comes tumbling down, that balance that I have so carefully tried to maintain in my life as a working mother.

Some days I can see all my mistakes but feel powerless to stop them. Children are so good at reflecting those flaws back onto us, aren't they?

Some days I feel like everything I am doing is falling short and I am failing as a parent, wife, friend, employee, and most certainly as a housekeeper and laundress.

Yesterday was like that. The children took turns acting up and I could see my mistakes and bad habits in their behavior. Instead of keeping cool and doing some quality parenting, I got mad and lost it. And then I got mad at myself for losing it.

Not a good day.

But today is a new day and it will be different. I hope it will be better, too, but at least it will be different. I will try to learn from yesterday's mistakes and to take a deep breath (or three) before I react.

If all else fails, I will cook my way through my mood. I will make something delicious and beautiful. And I will be prepared with a smile and an understanding shrug if the children won't even touch it.

Secong Helping: Peach Macarons
Thirds: Fig and Port Jam

Fresh Figs with Ricotta, Honey and Pistachio

These figs are equally good as an appetizer or as a light dessert.

Serves 6
15 minutes preparation time

9 fresh figs
1/4 to 1/2 cup ricotta (if you're local, I love Blue Ridge Dairy's)
a few drizzles of honey
2 tablespoons pistachios, toasted and chopped

Slice the figs in half from top to bottom. Arrange them on a serving plate with their cut sides facing up.

Add about a teaspoon of ricotta to each fig. Drizzle generously with honey. Sprinkle with the toasted pistachios.

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Freshened Up Eggplant Parmesan

Eggplant parmesan has had me in a quandary. The best eggplants are available at farmers' markets at this time of year, so this should be the best time of year to make it. But it has never seemed like a summer dish to me. The breaded, fried eggplant, loads of sauce and cheesy goodness have their place, but it seems a wintry place to me, best eaten when the weather is cold outside and a good dish of comfort is in order.

We needed a summer version of eggplant parmesan, and this is my crack at it. Instead of breading and frying the eggplant, we sliced it thinly and roasted it. Our sauce was Cherry Tomato Almost Sauce, barely saucy at all, and we used a bit of ricotta as well as the traditional mozzarella to give the whole thing a fresher flavor.






It scratched my eggplant parmesan itch. The children loved it, too, except for Chloe, who separated all her eggplant -- and perhaps anything that had touched the eggplant -- over to the side of her plate.

Now I just have to figure out how to preserve this season's excellent eggplants to make a wintry version a few months from now.

Second Helping: Smoky Eggplant Parmesan
Thirds: Homemade Ricotta

Freshened Up Eggplant Parmesan

Serves 6 to 8
45 minutes preparation time
30 minutes cooking time

4 small globe eggplants
1 to 2 tablespoons olive oil
sea salt to taste
1 quart cherry tomatoes
1/2 pound fresh mozzarella
15 basil leaves
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 pound fresh ricotta
1 cup grated parmesan

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Trim the ends of the eggplant. Slice a small bit of the skin off one of the sides of the eggplant. Rest the eggplant on that side and thinly slice the eggplant vertically (discard the first piece, which will be mostly skin). Arrange the eggplant slices on a baking sheet and lightly brush them with olive oil. Sprinkle with sea salt.

Roast the eggplant in the oven until it is lightly brown, about 10 minutes. After removing the eggplant from the oven, lower the temperature to 350 degrees.

While the eggplant is cooking, make the sauce. The recipe for the Almost Sauce is here.

Spread a ladleful of the tomatoes in the bottom of a 9-by-13-inch casserole pan. Add a layer of eggplant and then add some of the tomato sauce, half of the mozzarella and half of the basil. Drizzle with some of the egg. Add another layer of eggplant, then tomato sauce, then the ricotta, then the remaining basil. Again, drizzle with the egg. Continue layering until you have used all of the ingredients. The last layers should be tomato sauce, the remaining mozzarella, and the parmesan, in that order.

Bake until the tomato sauce is bubbling and the cheese on top has melted, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let stand for a few minutes before serving.

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