Berries, Baguettes and La Pomme Live

I don't know about you but I have found that one of the beauties of summer is the lack of a schedule. No early morning alarms. No dinner on the table at exactly 6:30 pm every evening. No driving around town with clenched teeth trying to get small person #1 here and small person #2 there...on time for some activity or another.

However....this lack of schedule tends to result...in my case...in a lack of anything at all getting done. Random piles start to multiply around the house. Envelopes edged in pink or yellow start showing up in the mailbox. ("Oh yeah...the bills.") Good manners head right out the door as I fail to RSVP to anything. I practically stop reading my email. It's as if summer hits, and my mind just goes on vacation for two months. Just last night I was playing Scrabble with my daughter who reminded me at 9:30 pm at night that I had recited earlier in the day, "I promise, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye..." that I would play Scrabble with her before the clock struck midnight. "Sighing" I saddled up to the table to play the 9-tile version and my mind went blank. There on my rack was A, E, O, U and B, R, S, L and N and the best word I could come up with was BURL which my daughter highly questioned as even being a word. (Looking at those letters right now, I'm still having a hard time coming up with anything else. Please feel free to leave any suggestions for me down below in case I'm coerced into future games of late night  Scrabble while my mind is on strike. She'll never know...besides her mind is young and fresh. Mine is filled with cobwebs. It needs a little help.)

So, I guess where I'm going with all of this, is to share with you that somehow, in between unpacking from one summer excursion and trying to get ready for a second summer excursion, I did manage to get myself down to AM Northwest last Wednesday....on-time...for a live segment highlighting my "French Toast for Lazy Summer Days." I have no idea how I pulled it together but I did and it didn't turn out too bad. I even laughed....I also almost burnt the French Toast on live TV but ah well....you can't have everything.

In the interest of full disclosure, I do have to share with you that while I was down at the KATU studios, my dear sister and all the boys (hers and mine) were curled up on the couch watching my spot unfurl live. (The teenager was still sleeping.) At the point in the segment where I comment on how much my children like "the buffet", my 10-year old turns to my sister and says with a deadpan face, "Actually, I don't really like the buffet. I just want someone to serve me up and bring me my plate." I hope you will all back me up when I tell his future wife, "I tried."


If you do not see a video screen above this line, click HERE to be taken directly to the AM Northwest site.

My next trip down to AM Northwest will be 9 am on August 18th. Deep summer by then. Who knows what kind of shape my mind will be in by then.


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

A River. A Tent. A Simple Satisfying Sandwich.

The kids were geared up. They had on their road warrior hats and there wasn't a single complaint to be found. No, "Are we almost there?" No, "I'm bored." They knew our destination. Had been looking forward to it for a year. This annual pilgrimage to "The River." The Eel River, to be exact. We had left behind the tightly packed Douglas firs. Almost brillo-like in the way they densely covered the sharp slopes flanking I-5. We had said good-bye to the rolling hills of Southern Oregon speckled with maples. And, we were currently snaking our way past the awe-inspiring and rather haunting California Redwoods. As we slowly made our way up the shady, narrow road, the 5-year old called out excitedly, "Mom?! Where's the Endor Base?" "Mom? Mom? Is that where the speeders go?" While I looked out the window and saw...Majestic. Colossal. Beauty. He looked out the window and saw...Ewoks. Clone Troopers. Battle scenes from Star Wars VI. (The other two didn't see anything. They were conked out thanks to the Dramamine. A must for all but the strongest stomachs on the winding stretch of highway through the Smith River Canyon.)

What is it about the summer road trip? The anticipation of sleeping in a tent that allows children, who can barely sit for half an hour to enjoy their dinner, to sit for 8 or 9 hours straight in a car without complaining? The only question on their lips being, "When can we go to the river? Can we go to the river right when we get there? When? When? When?" And sure enough, upon our arrival, there was no holding them back. No setting up camp. Just a flurry of bathing suits and sunscreens and they were off.

Maybe the answer lies in its simplicity. The way that the older ones ferry the younger ones in a small boat across the "deep end" over and over, all day long. Neither party growing tired of the trip. Back and forth. Back and forth. The way the older ones jump off the rock into the river, over and over, all day long. Never growing tired of scaling the rock up past the poison oak and jumping again. Scaling and jumping. Scaling and jumping. Or, maybe it's the simple thrill of "night swimming." The rush that comes from conquering something that you feared. Or, the way that the Moms, best friends, sisters, still exhausted from the school year, are allowed to simply sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. In the sun. Talking about this and that. Sipping our sparkling water. A bottle of Rosé. At one point, I inquired of my 10-year old in a private moment, "So, are you having fun?" He looked at me, a bit puzzled and replied, "Mom? Are you kidding me? This is my warcraft." And he pushed off into the water, kicking his inner tube down the river. The same kind of black inner tube I played on in my grandparents creek during the summer.

Of course, one can't think of tents and rivers and campfires without thinking of food. Food that's been simplified. Paired down. No cookbooks. No recipes. A loaf of purchased pound cake, sliced and left on a table for children to grab as they walk by for breakfast. A cooler full of sandwiches...pb and j, salami and cheese, turkey with hummus and vegetables. A bag of Rainier cherries. Canteens full of water. And in the evening, salmon and halibut that have been grilled to perfection with only a brush of olive oil and a sprinkle of garlic salt for seasoning. A pot of buttered noodles and a salad of greens tossed with olive oil and lemon juice. Salt and pepper. Easy. Uncomplicated. No pressure, food. And even though I rather loathe marshmallows, every year at this time, there's nothing quite like the perfectly roasted S'more for dessert.

Then at night, cuddled up in a tent, after a day of water and sun, all one really needs is a pillow, a sleeping bag, an air mattress and some night air for a deep sleep. Well, actually, that is if you aren't me with my genetic disposition toward light sleeping and dog hearing. Which, even though it does not render me a full night's rest, does allow me to hear foiled attempts to teepee the teenage girls' tent by a couple of teenage boys...and then, to lay there and do nothing but smile to myself. The following day, I hear myself explaining to my teenage daughter who was aghast upon learning about the attempted prank, "They do and say these things because they like you." And her saying to me impatiently, "Mom, you always say that." And I guess I do. Just like my parents said it to me. And I wonder, "Is it true?"

Back through the Redwoods. Past the rolling hills and up to the familiar Doug firs. The only sound to be heard is the occasional, "Mom, can we stay longer next year?" The kids each thinking about what type of water contraption they're bringing next time. Me thinking about the food. Those sandwiches by the river. That bottle of Rosé. And sitting. Just sitting.


A Simple Satisfying Summer Sandwich
Let's be honest, sometimes in our overcomplicated world, we overcomplicate food as well. Summer with all of its fresh produce provides us with an opportunity to simplify because summer produce doesn't need much except slicing. We couldn't get enough of these sandwiches on "The River." Paired with a handful of Rainier cherries and a glass of sparkling water or chilled wine....it doesn't get much better than this.

Ingredients:
2 slices of your favorite whole grain bread.
(I prefer Dave's Killer Bread or La Brea Whole Grain Bread)
2-3 slices of tomato
4-5 slices of cucumber
4-5 slices avocado (or in a pinch, leftover guacamole)
thinly sliced red onion
salad greens
your favorite hummus
salt and pepper
optional: a couple slices of turkey

Directions:
Slather both sides of your bread with the hummus. Place your sliced vegetables and your turkey on one side. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and then, pile on the greens. Grab your unencumbered slice and flip it over on top. Cut in half on the diagonal. Pack away in a cooler for later or grab a plate, put your sandwich on it, a handful of cherries and go outside to enjoy. Best eaten with fresh air.


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

A Medley of Summer Salads

There they are. Like always. Pots of red, white and blue petunias and geraniums. A thoughtfully placed flag off to one side. They are the first thing I notice. The first thing I look for because isn't that what holidays are for? The expected. The traditions. The counted on. The nostalgic.

The same gathering of aunts  and uncles, nieces and nephews, grandparents, old family friends and exhausted, bleary-eyed mothers and fathers. The same annual volleyball tournament that always starts out so benignly and ends up with small children running for their lives and not a single adult admitting to his competitive nature. The same water fights that somehow bring out the eldest children's apparent knowledge of guerrilla warfare tactics.  The same passing stage of younger ones trying out "forbidden language" while hiding under an old dollhouse. "Hi, Mr. Poopyhead." "Hiya, Mr. Poopyhead." A burst of giggles and then, once they've been found out, a rush of whispers, "I hope she doesn't tell my Mom." The same testosterone driven fireworks display between neighbors. Whose is the biggest? Whose flies up the longest? Whose makes the biggest "boom"? Followed up by the strutting of the 10-year old who has graduated into a bona-fide pyrotechnic. Finally being allowed to light more than just a sparkler.

And then, there's the food. Oh, the food. The food we count on every year. The same food we request every year. My mother's incredible, not-too "saucey" potato salad. The one which no Fourth of July would be complete without. My father's masterful grilling skills. Hamburgers. Hot dogs. The cheerful little platter of deviled eggs that disappear as quickly as a shallow bowl of oysters on ice....if you like oysters that is. Wait a minute. Come to think of it, where were the deviled eggs this year?! The familiar spinach dip in a bread bowl. The homemade guacamole. Bowls of cherries, grapes and watermelon. The chocolate chip cookies. The apple pie. The lemon bars. And then, there's always one who has to monkey with the menu. The vegetable pusher. The one who views holidays not only as a time for the tried and true but also a time to try something new. The one who insisted on making not one but two vegetable dishes when clearly, we already had more food than we could eat. And so she blanched her asparagus. Her green beans. She minced up her homegrown herbs. (The only thing the slugs haven't eaten.) She whisked together her dressings and she added her dishes to the buffet.

And so we sat. Outside. All together. Eating. In our winter parkas. And, we complained about how much food we had. "Oh, I can't possibly eat all of this." And, we looked out across the Puget Sound. At the ferries gliding across the water. And, we listened to the patriotic bagpipe music in the background. And we talked about this and that. Something funny the kids had done. Our aches and pains. And we ate the familiar (and not-so-familiar) food and with eat bite of creamy potato salad, we celebrated the start of summer. Being together. And, the Fourth of July.

Medley of Summer Salads
So today I give you not one, but two recipes. Love both of these. One was new to our 4th of July buffet last year and the other was brand spankin' new. Both received rave reviews, although, truth be told, the second salad definitely seemed to hit a chord with the women in the group a bit more than the men. A chick salad, perhaps? Head on out to your local produce stand and make these up. You won't be disappointed.

Green Bean Summer Salad
Adapted from Sunset, June 2009

Ingredients:
2 lbs green beans, cut into 2 inch pieces
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp Dijon mustard
3 tbsp olive oil
1/4 cup each, minced fresh basil, chives and cilantro
1 cup thinly sliced red onion
3/4 cup toasted pine nuts (optional)
1/2 cup feta cheese crumbled (optional)
1/2 tsp each of salt and pepper (or to your liking)

Fill a large saucepan with water and bring to a boil. Carefully, drop in your green beans and cook for 2-3 minutes or until your green beans are slightly softened. Drain your green beans and rinse with cold water until cool to the touch.

In a large bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, mustard, oil and herbs. Add green beans, onion, pine nuts, feta, salt and pepper. Stir to combine. Best served at room temperature. Delicious the next day for breakfast alongside some scrambled eggs and toast.


Cherry Tomato and Asparagus Chick Salad
Adapted from Sunset, June 2010

Ingredients:
1 lb asparagus, trimmed and cut into thirds
3 cups halved cherry tomatoes (6 c in original recipe)
1/2 cup gorgonzola cheese
1 ripe avocado, cut into cubes
1/2 cup sliced basil leaves (1 c in original recipe)
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tsp lemon juice
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp each kosher salt and pepper

Boil asparagus in a large pot of salted water for 2 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water.

In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, mustard, salt and pepper.

In a large bowl, combine your asparagus, tomatoes, cheese, avocado and basil. Gently stir in your dressing to coat your vegetables evenly. Then, eat up. This colorful little number is best eaten soon after making. Not so good for breakfast the next day. Chicks dig it.


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

The Loveliest of Summer Days...Rain and All

Why Thursday was the loveliest of summer days....even without the sun.....

1. Not a single alarm clock was set in this house.

2. The "baby"...um, I mean the 5-year old...slept in until 8am.  I wanted to weep tears of joy.

3. The middle child arose at 10:00 am. The eldest at 11:00 am.

4. I found a use for the 2-day old baguette that had been bugging me as it sat on the counter, barely eaten.

5. We ate a sinfully delicious breakfast of french toast with fresh berries on top at 1pm. In our jammies.

6. I had the privilege to once again bask in the creative genius that is Pixar Animation Studios. And, when Andy drove off leaving Woody and his toys behind, I quietly cried but no one knew except my dear friend, Mara, who was sitting right next to me quietly crying as well. Our youngest ones on our laps. Our older ones in the row in front of us. The whole "growing up and leaving home" theme of Toy Story 3 hitting a little bit close to home for us.

7. I didn't have to cook dinner. I did, however, find myself hollering to get one of my chickens out from under the table, to another one to quit putting lemons in her brother's mouth and the whole thing culminated with the "baby" tossing a lime slice at his brother while standing across the table from him. Was the dinner in a restaurant worth it? Sure it was. No dishes. Good friends. We'll work on the manners later.

8. It rained so...I didn't have to water. Who am I to ask for sun every day? After all, I do live in Portland.

9. I put the "baby" to bed by reading him Chapter 1 of the very first Harry Potter book.

10. My sweetie arrived home safely after traveling around the country all week and made me laugh with stories about small cookies.

French Toast for Lazy Summer Days

When I was growing up this was one of the dishes in my regular repretoire. I loved it and made it often. I have always found that when I order french toast in a restaurant or follow someone else's recipe it usually ends up being too rich for me. My 10-year old and I have the same "rich food radar" and are very particular about how "saucey" or "syrupy" or "sugary" a dish ends up being. So, here's my rendition of the beloved french toast recipe which was given a big thumbs up by the 10-year old as well as the rest of my brood. I usually just eye-ball the ingredients so I've attempted here to put quantities on them but please feel free to adjust the spices to your liking.

Ingredients:
A day (or two) old baguette, sliced on the bias, about 12 slices
4 eggs
1/2 c milk
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
pinch of nutmeg

2 tbsp canola oil, at least

Toppings:
fresh berries
powdered sugar
pure maple syrup

Directions:
In a large bowl, whisk together your eggs, milk and vanilla until well blended. Then, whisk in the sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. Set aside.

Put a heavy-bottomed skillet on the stove to warm up. I use my cast iron skillet for this. While it's warming, put 3-4 slices of bread in your mix so they can start to soak up the egg mixture. Turn them over after a minute or so.

With your heat on medium, add your canola oil to your skillet and once it is heated put your first pieces of soaked bread onto your skillet. They should sizzle a bit. Cook until they develop a nice golden brown color on one side and then, flip to the other side. Adjust your heat if necessary. I find that it takes about 2 minutes per side.

While your first batch is cooking, whisk your egg mixture once again and then, add your next 3-4 slices. Continue with the cooking and soaking until all of your slices are done. You may need to add more canola oil to your skillet as you go along. The hot oil helps give the toast a nice "searing" so to speak.

With your toppings and your plates laid out, call the troops to come on into the kitchen and enjoy your creation. Happy Summer!

Yield: 12 slices, more or less

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010