So, my dear friends, I have a bonus post for you this week...weekend...whatever you want to call it. Katie Goodman, who is the author of the beautiful blog, GoodLife Eats, asked if I would do a guest post for her while she was taking some time off to spend with her sweet hubby. Of course, I said, "Absolutely...."
What you will find when you hop on over there is a little bit of musing...of course...and a recipe for Rosemary Cheese Bites that are like a grown-up Cheese-It. I can't tell you how good they are. You won't be able to stop eating them and no, they don't have any butter in them. None at all. They are calorie free. They aren't at all like a savory shortbread cookie. :)
And the Winner Is.....
Thanks so much all of you who entered to win the National Pork Board Giveaway I talked about on my last post. I wish I could have given it away to all of you but since I only had one, and to keep me honest, I let the Kindergartner choose the winning "ticket" and here's how it went.
The Kindergartner is stirring up the names.
He's pulling out the winning ticket.
He's opening it up.
And the Winner Is....
Amy M., I have your email address and will be in touch to gather all pertinent information. Congratulations!!
Organizing Project
The only kind of organizing getting done these days is what I have now coined as: Drive-By Purging and Organizing: Creating Calm Out of Chaos
It's when your To-Do list has you so overwhelmed you simply abandon it and then, grab a paper sack and start throwing things in it to be donated without any thought. And even when you are loading it into the car, you are still looking around the garage saying to yourself, "What else can I throw in here? Oooo, small army man on the ground, you are a goner."
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2011
Yes, it's absolutely true that it rains here. I mean really rains. As in November through May you can expect a 50% chance rain on any given day which is most days. Half the year. Half the year with gray skies, wet shoes and saturated, moss-filled lawns.
There's a large percentage of us who welcome the start of the rainy season in the fall. We're ready to head inside. To have some quiet time of introspection. To pull out wool scarves, down jackets and rain boots. To make soups, pots of chili and braised meats. I am one of those people. As a matter of fact, being a native of this wet world, if I go too long without rain I start to get itchy.
Of course, fall leads into winter which is welcoming in its own stark way. A lack of clutter. A time to clean our mental house. To take blank sheets of paper and write out our goals, our dreams, our hopes for the new year.
Which brings us up to the last moments of winter, just days from the start of spring. Those days when I know we still have at least 3 1/2 more months of rain but when I am ready to have this heaviness lifted from my mind. To see my family in bright, clear detail as opposed to dim, hazy light. To trade in the movies on the couch for bike rides along the river. To retire the soup pot and fire up the grill. To see the outside world decorated in something other than neutrals.
And just when I can't take the gray and rain one more day and feel like I'm going to start scratching the ceiling....
The days grow longer. And while not sunlight per se, it is light...later. And that light bekons me outside where I welcome the chance to do even that never-ending chore of weeding...in-between rain showers.
And while I'm outside I start to look around and notice that there are little bits of color waiting to be found.
Little nubs on trees.
New shoots poking their way past rain soaked leaves.
Chives that have filled in with their long, slender green leaves. Leaves that are just waiting for me to snip and use in a recipe.
And overnight it seems, those lovely daffodils raise the curtain on their spring spectacle. The viewing of which does wonders to lift the spirits.
And even though these are all but tiny hints of what's to come, they help. Somehow the gray sky doesn't seem nearly as oppressive. The rain not nearly so inconvenient since the air is warm(er). The mind somehow less foggy.
And it is my dearest hope that all of the people in Japan who have lost so much after the terrible wreckage and destruction of the earthquake and tsunami may start to see tiny hints of hope. Fragments of color. Something, anything, that can help to lift the extraordinary sense of loss and despondency they must surely be feeling.
Hints of Hope
Here are some folks trying to help out. Trying to send a tiny hint of hope to our friends across the ocean.
Portland's own Wieden+Kennedy designed a print to raise relief funds. The first run of posters already sold out but a second one is in the works. Click here to see their lovely creation.
Tiny Bits of Chive All Wrapped Up in Goat Cheese Love
I cannot get enough of this goat cheese spread. I make it year-round with whatever kind of fresh herbs are available in my garden. For the past few months I've been using rosemary...that winter-hardy herb...but I'm delighted that I can give good ole rosemary a rest and snip some fresh chives. In the summer, I love to use basil. Of course, you could use a medley of any of your favorite herbs. My daughter and the 5-year old love this spread as well and are always thrilled to find it set out on the table along with some flatbread crackers, dry salami and cucumber slices. My 3-year old nephew will inhale an entire 8 oz portion of this spread if left alone with the bowl. Needless to say, it's a winner, unless of course, you don't like goat cheese but then I can't really help you out. Sorry...
Ingredients
8 oz plain goat cheese, softened
3 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 tbsp fresh herbs, chopped: rosemary, basil, chives, oregano, thyme or any combination of these
Directions
In a small saucepan, heat your olive oil over medium-low heat. Add your garlic cloves and let "simmer" for about 3-5 minutes or until the garlic is soft and fragrant but not brown, stirring often. Careful not to burn your garlic. Turn down your heat if necessary.
If I'm using rosemary, I usually add it in with the garlic cloves and let it simmer as well to help mellow its flavors. You can also do this with any of the other herbs.
Once the garlic has finished cooking, remove the pan from the heat and allow the oil to cool to room temperature. After that, remove the garlic from the pan either by straining it or doing like I do and just picking it out with a fork. (Goodness knows, I don't want to have to clean a strainer.)
Put your goat cheese in a medium bowl. Add in 1-2 tbsp of the garlic infused olive oil. I usually add in 1 tbsp and taste it and then add more as I desire. Using the same fork I used to pick out the garlic, I stir up my cheese and oil. Then, I add in my fresh chives and gently stir to evenly combine.
Spoon your delicious spread into a lovely bowl. Top with a few sprigs of the herb you used. Set out with some crackers, cucumber slices and dry salami and Voìla!...an appetizer to impress. (Although I've been known to eat it out of the container, standing at the counter, with no one to impress but myself and it's still good.)
Enjoy.....
...
AM Northwest
Spent Wednesday morning down at AM Northwest as part of their Pacific Disaster Relief fundraiser. I was on hand to talk about what you should have in your pantry.
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St. Patrick's Day
In case you're looking for a little inspiration for St. Patrick's Day reveling, here are a couple sites to check out:
One of my absolute favs, They Draw & Cook, has a collection of 6 recipes for a Happy St. Patrick's Day currently on their home page.
Something I'd never hear of before...Colcannon....a classic Irish potato dish you'll find over at Food for my Family.
And this recipe over by Aran over at Cannelle et Vanille isn't "Irish" per se but I thought all of the lovely greens help set the tone for ye olde leprechaun holiday.
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Organization Project
Moved bags to be donated from entry-way to hall-closet alcove. People kept tripping over them.
...
PS:
I'll be back in two weeks. Spending some quality time with the family during spring break......
Cheers!
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2011
The past week has gone....I don't know where. It vaporized. I don't know about you, but I'm having trouble staying on top of things. Luckily, as I've mentioned before, my sweetie has already started the Christmas shopping.
Thanks to a gentle reminder by my thoughtful mother and father, I realized I never posted the video from last week's AM Northwest segment. So, this is for you, Mom and Dad...and anyone else who may have an interest in learning about homemade applesauce and a tantalizing appetizer all made with seasonal ingredients. And, one last note, should you decide to view the following video....after viewing it himself, my sweetie showered me with all of the appropriate accolades just like a good husband should (whether they are true or not) and then, off-handedly remarked, "Lots of sound effects going on in this one." What can I say? With the way my brain operates these days, it's a wonder I can even string a sentence together, so when I'm at a loss for the appropriate word, I fill in with sounds.
If you are unable to view the video above this line, click here to be taken directly to the website.
Hope you all have a safe and Happy Halloween!
And, hopefully you're not like me, with a mouth full of canker sores already from raiding the Halloween candy I've stashed away from the kids. Wish someone would stash it away from me!
Cheers,
Carrie
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010
"But Mom...everyone is going to be there," she says to you, not in an overly-emotional way but matter-of-factly,...slowly,...tinged with disappointment. (Almost echoing her younger brother's cries from the week before, "But Mom...everyone has one.") And you feel for her, you do. And channeling your 13-year-old-self, you know that you would want to be there too. But alas, you're not 13. You are a parent now. And sometimes this role of "parent" feels overwhelming. You feel a bit weary from constantly trying to guide your children into knowing what's appropriate to wear, to do, to say, to partake in, to buy. Knowing when to open the door just a little wider for them. And when to keep it pulled shut. And it's in those instances of feeling in your heart that the door should remain shut while your child is begging to open it more, that become the most trying. Especially, when it feels to her, that "everyone else's" doors have been opened.
And so you agonize...for days. Trying to make the right decision for this particular situation. At this particular age. In this particular decade. You call friends. You email other parents. You call more friends. You stay up late talking to your sweetie. And you remember back to when your father...or perhaps it was your mother...wisely said to you that as a parent you can only lay down the foundation. How the house gets built is up to your child. And so you check the foundation. You gather all the facts at hand. You summon up your own 40+ years of life experience and....you open the door just a little wider for your child.
After delivering her safely into the hands of another caring parent who has struggled with the same decision, you stare at the clock. You tick off in your mind where she should be when. In an effort to keep your mind from running amok with all of the "What if?" scenarios involving your daughter, you check on your littlest one, move away from the clock and then, curl up on the couch with your sweetie and your 11-year old to watch a favorite show.
Sunday evening finds you all gathered around the kitchen table for your family dinner. The family dinner you always spice up just a little bit more than the usual weeknight meal. The warm, comforting smell of caramelized onions still lingers in the house even after the Pita Pizza appetizers topped with those onions have been devoured. All five of you now sit with steaming bowls of White Bean and Sausage Cassoulet in front of you and plates of salad greens, fennel and blue cheese to the side. You talk about your weekend. The football game. The lego "Skype date." The blustery weather. And in talking about the weekend, you realize that in your daughter's life, this opening of the door registered barely a ripple for her. And in a way, you almost feel relieved. Because in some strange way, this lack of jubilance, makes you feel like it was the right time to open the door.
Your boys are upstairs, all three of them, and you stand in the kitchen with your daughter. Both of you scraping the bottom of your goblets trying to mop up the last little bits of your Gingersnap-Caramel Pear Parfaits. Your daughter looks up from her goblet and says to you, "Thank you for letting me go......and thank you for wanting to keep me safe." And you look right at her and say, "Thank you for letting me do my job to keep you safe. You are so precious to me. I love you, sweetie." And she says, "I love you, too." And with that, you put the empty goblets in the dishwasher and set your mind on the week ahead.
Pita Pizzas with Caramelized Onions, Dried Cherries and Gruyère
I know that I've talked about Pam Anderson before, here and here, because she is the author of one of my all time favorite cookbooks, "How to Cook Without a Book." The other weekend, when I was in San Francisco, I had the incredible opportunity to meet in person not only Pam but her two delightful daughters as well. The three of them author the blog, "Three Many Cooks" and just recently Pam released a new cookbook entitled, "Perfect One-Dish Dinners." When she and her daughters asked some of us if we would cook from the book and then post a favorite dish, I didn't hesitate. How could I possibly refuse one of my all time favorite cookbook authors?
As I mentioned above in my little narrative, I made from her book the Pita Pizzas, her Cassoulet-Style Italian Sausages and White Beans, her Baby Greens with Fennel, Blue Cheese and Red Onion and for dessert, her decadent, Gingersnap-Caramel Pear Parfaits. Each one was scrumptious in its own right but the clear winner in our family (including a stray neighbor boy who was over playing legos) was the Pita Pizzas...although, the Pear Parfaits were a very close second. With the holidays on the horizon, I can't wait to set these appetizers out for guests. I can see mixing it up and using dried cranberries instead of the cherries or bits of browned pancetta. I did not soak the cherries in the kirsch since most of my "audience" was the under-21 bunch but I did add the cherries to the onions at about the 8 minute mark to soften them up.
Ingredients:
1 tbsp olive oil
1 large Spanish onion, halved and thinly sliced. (I used one of Oregon's Hermiston Sweet onions.)
3/4 dried cherries
2 tbsp kirsch (cherry brandy)
4 large (7-inch) pocket-less pitas (These are thicker than ordinary ones.)
2 c grated aged Gruyère cheese (about 5 oz.)
Directions:
Adjust rack to lower-middle position (in my oven, the middle position worked best) and heat oven to 450 degrees. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. And onion and cook, stirring frequently, until caramel brown, about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, heat cherries and kirsch in a small saucepan over low heat until cherries soften, 4 to 5 minutes. Or, to do what I did, skip this last step and add your cherries directly to the onions when the onions have about 2-3 minutes left to cook.
Scatter a portion of onions and cherries over each pita, then scatter over cheese. Bake until cheese melts and crust is golden brown and crisp, about 10 minutes. Cut each pita into 8 triangles and serve immediately.
Yield: 32
Spreading the Perfect One-Dish Dinner love, below are all of the other incredible posts, highlighting recipes from Pam's book. Each is beautiful and heartfelt.
"This may quite possibly be, the craziest thing you've ever done before leaving on a trip." (pause) "No...this IS the craziest thing you've ever done before leaving on a trip considering you need to be up by 4 am and you still haven't packed."
I was listening to my handsome guy as I lowered my jars of "zesty salsa" into their water bath and I knew he spoke the truth...but I couldn't help myself. No. This is how I operate. Sometimes I need a serious "fire lit" to get anything done and a few hours before leaving on a trip for 4 days without my family seemed like the perfect time to can salsa.
Ever since I had generously been invited to watch Chef Clark of Wildwood give a canning demonstration this summer, while at the same time dining on his fine cuisine, I have been intrigued to can. Canning is not my "department". The first (and last) time I canned anything was when I was a shiny, new bride. (A long, long time ago.) Interestingly, I canned salsa then too. The recipe called for worcestershire sauce. (Need I say more.) I never actually tasted that salsa but somehow felt confident enough to give it away to family and friends for Christmas. Curiously, no one ever said anything to me about it, especially things like, "I loved your salsa. It is to die for."
I've always left the canning up to my lovely, lovely mother. Upon arriving at our home for Christmas, she and my father will unload their boxes full of gifts. One of those boxes is always filled with gift bags. Sometimes they are homemade. Sewn from soft, Christmas-red fabric. Other times, they arrive in humble paper bags with ribbons cascading from their handles. Either way, those on the receiving end of this thoughtful gift can't help but reach into the bag, pull away the tissue paper and admire the gift she beholds. A jar of deep plum Blueberry Jam. Possibly a jar of downy, pale green Dilly Beans. And always, a jar of luminescent orange Pepper Jelly. The colors...so enchanting. The gift...so generous.
I had inspected the Heirloom tomatoes I had bought the week before at our farmer's market and I knew it was now or never. Not yesterday. Or two days ago. (That would be much too civilized and orderly.) No, it was right now. Now, when I should be making dinner. Now, when I should be packing. Now, when I should be printing out an excel spreadsheet with the who, what, where, when and why of "The Lives of Our Children" and a menu of dinner suggestions for the four days I would be gone in the hopes that they would eat more than pizza. Somehow I managed to pull my three jars out of their warm bath, set them on the counter, pack, get a healthy 4 hours of sleep, kiss my chickens good-bye while they slept and be whisked off in the middle of the night just in time to catch my plane to San Francisco.
Upon arriving home after my trip, hugs were given out all around. The loot I came home with was inspected. And then, I headed straight into the kitchen to check on my 11th hour project. There they were. Still sitting right where I had left them. Looking at those jars, they made me smile. I don't know. There was something so, so...wholesome about them. So...motherly. So..."hand-crafted." So...simple. And with their kaleidoscope of colors...so lovely. I pulled my little guy up on my lap, having desperately missed his hugs while I was gone, and admired my handiwork. There were only 3 of them. Not quite enough to go around to everyone for the holidays but even so, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. A minute or two went by before my littlest one motioned for me to come closer. Under the assumption that he, himself, was going to comment on the pretty jars, I had to quickly choke back the immediate rush of tears when he whispered in my ear, "Please don't move to China." (His small way of saying he missed me.)
Zesty Salsa...and a Gift for One of You, My Dear Friends
Now, I don't make it a habit to endorse anything that I haven't stumbled upon on my own. Or that I don't regularly use but the kind folks at Jarden Home Brands have generously offered to send one of you, my kind friends, a Ball Canning Discovery Kit...for free. And since technically, I have actually tried it out and found it to be quite the slick little kit, (especially for novice canners like me) who am I to turn down their thoughtful offer. I know that you all are a bit comment-shy which is fine, really...but in this instance, should you be interested in possibly receiving this gift, you'll need to leave me a comment below by Friday, October 15, with your name and email address. Recognizing that the comment feature here on blogger is not exactly "user friendly" here's a little tip: If you do not have a google account and have no desire to obtain one, choose the "anonymous" identity and then, in the body of your comment leave your name and email address. Sometimes the comment doesn't post right away and you'll need to hit "preview" first. I'll then put your names in a hat and have my littlest guy pull one out to determine the benefactor of this here gift.
One last request, since I'm new to canning, should you happen to be leaving me a comment below, I'm curious what you might be canning. If you've been canning for a long time, what is your favorite food to can? If you're just trying it out for the first time, what are you anxious to try?
If you're a canning pro and simply want the recipe, I've typed it up below. I did actually taste this salsa and "Yum!" So delicious. I think "Zesty" is the perfect name for this salsa with it's bright and lively mingling of flavors. The only change I made to the original recipe was to switch out green peppers for red. Other than that I stayed with the "tried and true" recipe to avoid a little thing called...botulism.
Ingredients:
5 c chopped, cored, peeled tomatoes (approx 10 medium)
2 1/2 cups chopped seeded green bell peppers (I used red.)
2 1/2 c chopped onions (approx 1 lg or 2 med)
1 1/4 c chopped, seeded chili peppers (hot banana, Hungarian, etc.)
2/3 c cider vinegar
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1 tbsp finely chopped cilantro
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp hot pepper sauce, optional
Directions:
Prepare your gear by washing you jars, lids and bands in hot, soapy water. Rinse well. Keep jars warm until ready to use to reduce risk of jars breaking when filled with hot food. You can heat them in a pot of simmering water or in a heated dishwasher.
Fill a stockpot that is at least 7 1/2 inches tall and 9 1/2 inches in diameter with enough water to cover jars with at least 1 inch of water and heat to a simmer.
Combine tomatoes, green (red) peppers, onions, chili peppers, vinegar, garlic, cilantro, salt and hot pepper sauce (optional), in a large stainless steel saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly. Reduce heat and boil gently, stirring frequently, until slightly thickened, about 10 minutes.
Ladle hot salsa into jars, leaving a 1/2 inch headspace between the food and the rim of the jar. Remove air bubbles by sliding a small, non-metallic spatula inside the jar and gently pressing food against the opposite side of the jar. Re-measure headspace. If needed, add more salsa to meet the 1/2 inch headspace recommendation. Wipe rim; center lid on jar. Screw band until fingertip-tight.
Place filled jars into canning rack, then lower into stockpot of simmering water, ensuring jars are covered by 1 inch of water. Put lid on pot. Heat to steady boil and boil for 20 minutes. Remove stockpot lid. Wait 5 minutes, then remove jars and allow to cool for at least 12 hours. Press on center of cooled lid. If jar is sealed, the lid will NOT flex up or down. Whoo! Hoo! You've just canned. You can store your jars of zesty salsa in a pantry for up to 1 year.
Enjoy...
Yield: 3 pint-sized jars of salsa
PS: Truth be told...you could also bag the whole canning aspect of this recipe and simply enjoy this "zesty salsa" fresh from the pot. (Well, maybe let it cool down a bit, but you know what I mean.)
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010
With a pile of cookbooks, notebooks and recipe cards spread out before me providing inspiration, I make my list of groceries that I plan on hauling to the Oregon coast for our two week vacation. The first week to be joined by my side of the family, the second week by my sweetie's.
"First Dinner - App-Guacamole, Dinner - Grilled salmon-tomato/shallot compote or just salt and pepper?, green salad, rice, green beans, Birthday cake for Mom. Second Dinner - App-Cowboy Caviar, Dinner - marinated flank steak, roasted potatoes, artichokes, bowl of cherries......."
I follow that up with my list of possible dinner menus.
I realize that when most people go on vacation, they perhaps spend their planning days laying out the activities that they will partake in on said vacation. I, on the other hand, think of the food possibilities. I get excited by the endless options. I liken it to that of a child making her list for Christmas. The glimmer in her eyes. The hope. The anticipation. The jubilation. And the beauty of it is, I'm not alone in this. In the weeks leading up to this vacation, I receive calls from my sister, my mother, my sister-in-law, my sweetie to talk about....food. Who's bringing what? Who's preparing this? Who's ordering out for that? Calls come in from shopping trips to Costco, "Just picked up a bag of those multi-grain chips we like so you don't need to get those." Text messages are flying back and forth from the next group coming out to the coast, "@grocery store, need anything?"
Now, of course, once we're there we partake in all of the usual beach activities...the boogie boarding, the sand castle building, the sand boarding, the dune climbing, the tide pool investigating, the beach combing, the bike riding, the lighthouse visiting, the whale watching, the sun bathing, the book reading, the puzzle making, the game playing, the bonfire building...actually, scratch that, we don't do the bonfire building...too cold. But through all of this, in the back of my mind is always, "When can I start preparing our next meal?
And once we're all crammed around the table on a various assortment of chairs, we continue to share, not just the meal at hand, but also, other meals and recipes that came before. An idea on preparing mussels with curry or marinating steaks with soy sauce and mustard. How to cook clams on the grill. Other ideas for vinaigrettes. Dips for artichokes. Chocolate cakes versus vanilla. We "ooh and aah" over new dishes prepared for us. The way one family sets up a taco bar that differs from our own way yet provides inspiration. And I guess that's what we take away from all of this is...inspiration. In sharing our food, our ideas, our recipes with one another we pass along a bit of ourselves. The bit that comes directly from our own kitchens. Our own homes.
I believe that Molly Wizenberg said this best when she wrote in her book, A Homemade Life:
"When I walk into my kitchen today, I am not alone. Whether we know it or not, none of us is. We bring fathers and mothers and kitchen tables, and every meal we have ever eaten. Food is never just food. It's also a way of getting at something else: who we are, who we have been and who we want to be."
Cowboy Caviar
This is one of those recipes that has circled around my neighborhood dozens of times. I requested it from my neighbor Renae who had it passed along to her by another neighbor. Get together in our neck of the woods and this dip always shows up on an appetizer table without fail. Introduce it into a new group and you will, mark my words, receive emails the following day with requests for the recipe. It couldn't be simpler. It's delicious and it's pretty darn good for you to boot. Obviously tortilla chips are its usual side-kick but I've been known to scoop it up with sliced red bell peppers or to spoon it over toast for breakfast.
Ingredients:
1 15 oz can black eyed peas
1 12-15 oz. can of corn
2 avocados, cubed
1/2 c chopped tomatoes
2/3 c cilantro, chopped
2/3 c green onion, chopped
1/4 c olive oil
1/4 c red wine vinegar
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp cumin
3/4 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
Gently combine all of of the ingredients together in a medium-sized bowl. If possible, let sit at least a half an hour before serving so the flavors have a chance to mingle. Set it out on an appetizer table and watch it disappear. Enjoy
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010
I simply must tell you about one of my dear, dear friends and an entertaining endeavor she took on. She recently had a dinner party. For three families. Including all offspring. Before I go any farther into her story, let me stop and ask you, "Aren't you impressed with just these details I've given you?!" Three families! Including kids! For dinner! I find that we seem to be at an age where nobody is doing much entertaining. Remember all those Christmas parties, "wine club" parties, block parties, progressive dinners, Birthday dinners, drinks on the deck, kick-off to camping barbecues?? Nope. No one's doin' them anymore. We're all just too dang tired. So the fact that my dear friend actually threw a dinner party, during this frenetic stage of life, leaves me duly impressed.
But wait, there's more. She didn't serve frozen lasagna and a Caesar salad from Costco. No. She made everything. From scratch. And to top it off, each and every recipe was from right here. From La Pomme. I feel quite honored and thank goodness I didn't exactly know what she was doing ahead of time or I would have felt a tad bit stressed out, worrying about the caliber of my recipes I've posted here and whether or not they are dinner party worthy. When I hooked up with her afterwards, she flashed me one of her beautiful, infectious smiles (the fact that she was still smiling is saying quite a bit) and shared with me that the party had been a huge success. The dishes had been so simple to prepare, so delicious to eat and....quite healthy to boot. Even the kids had enjoyed the offerings.
So you can share in the astonishment OR perhaps throw a dinner party of your own, I give you her La Pomme de Portland Dinner Menu:
I also feel compelled to share with you that another friend let me know that she made the Ginger and Garlic Stir Fry and her kids ate some particular veggies in that dish for the first time. Veggies they had not been willing to try before...and loved them.
And then, just the other day, another friend told me that she made the Pasta e Fagioli Soup I recently posted but instead of pasta, she used cheese tortellini. Her kids lapped it up. And another friend's husband proclaimed after she made him this same soup, "Well, we're never going to have that again, are we?" "Why not?", she asked. "Because I really liked that." She and I have the same problem of making things that the whole family loves but then, never making them again simply because we can't remember what we made. And so the hubbies, much to their dismay, never see that tasty dish again.
Thank you Kim, Laura, Suzi and Tammy for sharing your culinary adventures with me. I love hearing about them but then again, I love food....actually it's more than love. A small obsession is more like it...
Happy Weekend to All....wherever you may be!!
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010
My back was on fire. My fingers were like dough. My hiney felt as though I'd been sitting on a cement curb for 6 hours waiting for the start of some parade. And, I could no longer deny that I do indeed need some form of optical assistance. What I could have whipped out with minimal practicing, twenty-years ago, now required hours, days, weeks at the piano; however, I did not breathe a word of my aches and pains to my main squeeze. I did not want the "glutton for punishment" speech.
Not but a few weeks earlier, I had gleefully agreed to play the piano at the 70th Birthday party for a dear friend's mother. A show tunes sing-along. Soloists. Women dressed in cocktail dresses from various decades. Men in vintage tuxedos. Gimlets being served upon entering. Cole Porter playing in the background. A stately, 100-year old home. "No gifts please" but donations graciously received for the Letty Owings Center. And, at the center of it all, a grand piano. How could I refuse?
As I grabbed the stack of music and stepped out of the car into the frigid air toward the century-old mansion bathed in twinkling lights, I hoped I wouldn't make a fool of myself. My daughter and I rapped on the door and were immediately escorted into a picture of elegance with candlelight dancing everywhere against a background of carved wood molding and guests mingling, glasses in hand, in front of a magnificent staircase.
I declined the gimlet (I needed all my wits possible) and headed to the piano for the run-through. Only the night prior, one of the soloists had called me in a panic, wanting to lower the music key of the song. "I need it to start on the A below middle C and I'm going for a Patty Austin jazz style." I was only able to grant her request thanks to the invention of the internet and so, with me at the piano and she singing away in her veiled pill box hat and siren red nails, we pulled off a respectable run through. Soloist Two in her little black dress, her mane of beautiful blond hair and her multiple strands of pearls was quite a bit more comfortable in the lime-light and her run-through went off without a hitch.
And so, the party went....greetings and laughter. Air kisses and warm embraces. Dim lights and sparkling rhinestones. Clicking glasses and trays of hors d'oeuvres. Coats being whisked up the staircase. A table full of delectable finger foods. Stuffed mushrooms at center stage.
We gathered in the living room before an enormous fireplace to "roast" the Birthday girl in her svelte black dress from the late 60's, her peter pan collar of rhinestones and the gardenia tucked behind her ear. Friends and family from different decades of her life took the stage to regale us with stories about her and as they followed, one after the other, a theme took shape. A theme, which grew from the thought that the Birthday Girl was lying about her age. That there was no possible way she was 70. That she didn't look a day past 50. Poems were recited. Letters were read. All debating the age of the Birthday Girl. At one point we all joined in on an original rap song which had us shouting out over and over, "...and she's still hot! ....and she's still hot! ....and she's still hot" Every woman's dream. I started pining away for my 70th Birthday Party.
The soloists were up next. A few gimlets too many, left the pill box beauty wordless but she hummed, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, beautifully. Soloist Two sang My Funny Valentine in a lovely, awe-inspiring vibrato and was completely free of inhibitions thanks, again, to the elegant little gimlet. Upon the conclusion of their songs, words were passed out and the sing-along began. One song after another....Oklahoma, Cabaret, Wouldn't It Be Loverly, Some Enchanted Evening, I Dreamed A Dream. And, not just the women. Rounding out the four part harmony, I could clearly detect the tenor and bass. And, as I played with the voices surrounding the piano, the light dancing off the walls, the genuine jubilation of the guests, I was grateful to have been included in this momentous occasion. The "back on fire" had been worth it. Of course, the late hour, the gimlets (again), the inability to resist over-dramatizing while singing songs such as Memory left my daughter wide-eyed with a half-smile as she innocently observed these "adults" enjoying the festivities.
At some point, the lid to the keys was put down. Coats were passed out and guests disappeared into the clear, cold night. Shivering, we hopped into the car. My daughter's eyes betrayed her sleepiness as we stole away across the river. And, I smiled to myself while I drove, secretly planning my Septuagenarian Birthday party.
Simple, Yet Elegant, Stuffed Mushrooms
I was inspired to make these little delectable bites from a post by The Pioneer Woman, whom, if you haven't checked her out, is an absolute hoot. And, as I have said before, I do love mushrooms so, of course, I spent my downtime at the above mentioned soiree standing around the finger-food table eating the stuffed mushrooms; however, as much as I love to eat stuffed mushrooms, I really don't enjoy making them. They're messy and time consuming. So, I came up with this little ditty of a recipe. Only 3 ingredients. Fast. Easy. The only hitch is they must be consumed while warm. Once cold...well, it's like eating a cold, grilled cheese sandwich.
15-20 medium-sized white button mushrooms
A hunk of blue cheese (I used the Stilton that they are selling at Costco for the holidays.)
A handful of walnuts, cut into 15-20 "chunks"
Heat oven to 350 degrees. Clean your mushrooms, then pop out the little stem revealing the hidden hollow below. Break off bits of your blue cheese and generously fill the mushroom's hollow with it. Place the stuffed mushrooms on a cookie sheet and pop in the oven for 8 minutes. When the buzzer goes off, pull your cookie sheet out of the oven. Top each mushroom with a piece of walnut and pop back in the oven for another 8-10 minutes. Pull from oven and let sit for 1 minute or so. Then, serve and enjoy....preferably with friends and a glass of champagne.
Yield: 15-20 stuffed mushrooms
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009
The first word that comes to mind is scraggy. Well, that and bedhead. The four-year-old kind of bedhead where they’ve tried to smooth down the front of their hair with some water but left the tufts around the crown sticking straight up. Trying to appear stately but still rather rumpled. Besides that, I’ve never given the tree much thought. I guess there was the year I decided to prune its scraggy branches to form the shape of an umbrella. A fort for the kids. Oh, the irony. I’ve looked at that tree, day-in, day-out, from my kitchen window for seven years, through its green lushness of summer and its nakedness of winter, but never really noticed it.
A few weeks back, the mother of my beautiful neighbor, Farzaneh, happened to catch my eye as she was standing under a similar tree. A tree very much like mine. Scraggy and at the edge of the forest. She peered up into its leaves. I thought perhaps she was watching the darling songbirds that inhabit our trees here or the squirrels who use it like a jungle gym. She visits here from Persia 3-4 months at a time and although we do not speak a common language, we smile, we wave and there’s something comforting in that. I like it when she’s here. She didn’t last long outside before she disappeared but I noticed that she returned each day to the foot of the tree. My curiosity was peaked.
One early evening, as we were rounding up our children to come inside for dinner, I inquired of Farzaneh what it was her Mother was watching in the tree. “Hazelnuts. She’s looking for hazelnuts. It’s a hazelnut tree.” I was stunned. Of course, I am aware that Oregon grows almost 100% of the hazelnuts produced in the United States but still, a hazelnut tree, right here? Not a tree that someone consciously planted but one that appeared out of nowhere like a weed? When I think of hazelnuts, I think of desserts in swanky restaurants. The way that adding the word “hazelnut” to a recipe immediately increases its importance. The way the French put hazelnuts in everything. The “nut of royalty.” For such an upper-class nut you would think that the tree which produces it would be more...aristocratic and not so…scraggy. I just couldn’t believe I’d never noticed it before. Perhaps the hazelnuts on the ground could have been a clue.
I spent the next few days after my illumination researching the proper way to harvest hazelnuts, which involves…shaking the tree, gathering the nuts, peeling away the husks, and allowing them to cure for 4 weeks. Then, cracking them, peeling them and roasting them. And, in the end I decided to leave all of that to the experts. I would leave my nuts to the squirrels and their incessant chatter. They had, after all, discovered the bounty long before I did. Now, when I gaze out at the tree from my kitchen window, I have to wonder what else I’ve been looking at everyday but haven’t really seen?
Hazelnut and Parmesan Matchsticks
(adapted from Allumettes Noisette Thym by Clotilde Dusoulier)
If you haven’t happened upon Clotilde Dusoulier’s blog, Chocolate and Zucchini, you must check it out. Equally as charming is her first cookbook of the same name, Chocolate & Zucchini. (All in her beautifully written English, I might add.) This is one of her recipes I have wanted to try. Delicious! Would be perfect as an appetizer during the upcoming holidays especially when paired with a dry, white wine or a glass of champagne. Or, you can do as my children did, and devour them straight down with a mug of warm Ovaltine.
1 c all-purpose flour
5 tbls chilled, unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
6 tbls freshly grated Parmesan
¾ c shelled, roasted hazelnuts, very finely chopped (skin-on is okay) I like Freddy Guys hazelnuts.
1 tsp dried thyme or 4 tsp fresh thyme, minced
1 tsp fleur de sel, sea salt or kosher salt
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk for glazing
To roast the hazelnuts, heat your oven to 350 degrees. Spread your hazelnuts in a single layer on a cookie sheet. Roast for 10 minutes, stirring once, halfway through.
In a large bowl, rub the flour and butter together until the mixture forms coarse crumbs. Add the cheese, hazelnuts, thyme and ½ tsp of the salt. Blend well. Add the egg and blend it in with a fork. Once the egg is absorbed, knead the dough lightly until it comes together and forms a ball. It should be smooth enough to be rolled out: if it is too dry, add a little cold water, teaspoon by teaspoon, until it reaches the desired consistency.
Divide the dough into two balls, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for 30 minutes, or up to a day. (If refrigerated for more than 2 hours, remove it from the fridge for about 15 minutes before you use it, or it will be too hard to work with.)
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Roll out one ball of dough, thinly, on a well-floured surface to form a rectangle approximately 6 by 8 inches and 1/6 inch thick. Beat the egg yolk with 1 tbls of water in a small bowl. Brush over the rectangle of dough and sprinkle with ¼ tsp salt or do what I did and just crack your salt grinder over the top of the dough a few times.
Cut the dough into strips approximately 6 inches long and ½ inch wide. Transfer strips onto prepared baking sheet, leaving ½ inch of space between them. Repeat with the second ball of dough.
Bake for 13-16 minutes, until golden. Transfer dough to a rack to cool completely. They will keep for a week in an airtight container at room temperature.
For a “pressed-for-time” variation: Shape the dough into two logs (about 1 inch in diameter), put in the freezer for 15 minutes, slice thinly to form round crackers and follow baking instructions above.
All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009
We are of the opinion, our household that is, that the tooth fairy is an unreliable, flighty little thing. That she is prone to wild mood swings and is picky. Picky, picky, picky. Our dear children, having just survived another round of the molting process, bless their hearts, will wrap their precious little gift, carefully, ever so carefully, in a tissue. I then instruct them to place the tiny object into an envelope, carefully, which they will then seal and place under their pillows to await the arrival of the tooth fairy. More often than not, come morning, their little eyes will be filled with tears instead of joy. The tooth fairy did not come.
Just as disappointed as they are, I shrug and say, “Maybe she doesn’t do envelopes anymore. That’s what I did when I was your age but maybe now, she prefers the box.” “Which box?” “You know. The special little box that holds teeth?” So, into the box the wee bit of ivory goes. And, believe it or not, come morning, there are times when she even snubs the box. To my children’s questioning gaze, I sigh, strike the thinker pose and pause, before exclaiming, “Ah ha! Maybe you just have to leave it out in plain view. Otherwise she can’t…she can’t sniff it out. Her sniffer doesn’t seem to be working.” At which point, they become suspicious.
Say what you will about the tooth fairy, there is; however, one area in which she can be consistently relied on. If her prize is a molar, the payment to the child is always, a Susan B. Anthony dollar. Now, as the child races down the stairs to show me her reward, I brace myself in anxiety-fraught anticipation. You see, to steal a quote from a dear friend, "I should have been born Catholic I have so much guilt." And, as the child opens her sweaty palm to show me the warm coin, I have to force myself not to recoil. Not to recoil away from that face. The face with the look of disappointment on it. The stern, Susan B. Anthony face that seems to say to me, “What are you doing to further my cause? My life’s work? What? What I ask you?!” I quickly fold up the child’s hand, pat her on the head and say, “Good job, now why don’t you go put that somewhere safe.”
I have often pondered what it is I’m doing. What I’m actually doing to further the cause of women put in motion over a hundred years ago. My mood swings between the elation of being alive, at this point in history, where women enjoy freedoms not even conceivable hundreds of years ago and the despondency I feel when I hear the latest report of tragedies incurred by women around the world. And, just when I feel that bit of panic rise up my throat, that feeling of “What can I, one person, possibly do?” I turn on Pink Martini’s Una Notte a Napoli, pour myself a glass of my favorite “cab of the moment,” and start chopping. Something. Anything. Today it’s the herbs gone wild in my garden’s last push of the season that I’m using to liven up an Herbes de Provence goat cheese spread that is irresistible.
My chopping tool of choice today is a beautiful, perfectly sharpened, Wüsthof chef’s knife. The prized possession of my 10-year old son. Perhaps the sole reason, he skipped out the door without a single complaint the entire week of his summer cooking camp. He knew that for a week’s worth of work, he would come home with the King of Cooking Tools. The tool to trump all others. The tool for which, using his Birthday money, he purchased a locking case and into which he carefully and ever so deliberately placed his prize and had to really think about whether it would be okay for me to borrow it from time to time.
On the other hand, another possible explanation for why he didn’t complain is he’s always known that when he turned the correct age, he too would begin to go to cooking camp each summer, just like his sister before him and his baby brother behind him. Because, perhaps, furthering the cause of women is less about how I raise my daughter and more about how I raise my sons. Perhaps. Perhaps, not.
Do you think, dear friend, that if I can teach my sons to nourish themselves, to have an appreciation for the preparation of a meal, to gaze out at their yard and recognize it as the support-system from which they too can harvest herbs, tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, then, maybe, just maybe, they will treat their yard, the earth, the soil a little more tenderly? Maybe they will be a little more deliberate when deciding what to put in their mouths? Maybe, just maybe, they will know the feeling of satisfaction that comes from making and sharing a meal? Of nourishing themselves and their families?
I must admit that not much cooking has gone on since the completion of his camp but occasionally, like today, he will pass through the kitchen when he sees me chopping and say, “Hey, Mom. Do you want me to do that? I really like to chop.” And, once I pass the knife over, he’ll instruct me by saying, “Now, Mom, you’re really supposed to hold the knife like this. See? With this finger like this.” I’ll try not to smile and simply be grateful that a tiny, little seed has been planted. I can’t know if it will grow but I’m just glad it’s there. And, maybe the next time I see Susan B. Anthony’s face, I’ll realize that it’s not a look of disappointment but the very real fact, that nobody but nobody smiled in pictures back then. That’s it. Plain and simple.
Herbes de Provence Goat Cheese Spread
(Adapted from Herbed Goat-Cheese Toasts, Epicurious)
6 oz. mild goat cheese, room temp
¼ c chopped, mixed herbs – oregano, basil, rosemary & thyme – heavier on the first two, lighter on the second two
1 1/2 tbls minced chives OR minced shallot
½ tsp black pepper OR to taste
a pinch of salt
1/3 c well-chilled heavy cream OR for a tangier version, ¼ c plain, yogurt
Stir together first 5 ingredients. In a separate bowl, beat the cream with a whisk until it just holds soft peaks, then fold into cheese mixture. If using yogurt, add it once the first 5 ingredients have been mixed-together. Enjoy immediately or let the flavors mingle for a day. Delicious.
“What do I do with this?” you ask, my friend. I keep mine in a little glass container in the fridge that I can serve it from whenever the moment arises. At times, I’ll set it out with our favorite seeded flatbread crackers and sliced pears as an after-school snack. Or, the other night, I set it out with sliced bread as an accompaniment to pre-made spinach & cheese raviolis topped with Dave’s Gourmet Red Heirloom Pasta Sauce, which is currently at Costco and I can’t say enough good things about it. Or, use it as a spread on my aforementioned, Heirloom Tomato Sandwich.
Whatever you do, though, take it out of the fridge at least, 20-30 minutes before you serve it. The other day I plopped it down for some friends straight from the fridge and then had to painfully watch as they politely tried to stab at it and awkwardly tried to “spread” it on their crackers without breaking them. I heeded Julia Child’s advice and did not apologize for the mistake but I had to avert my eyes from the rather uncomfortable situation.
PS: My favorite “cab” of the moment is a cheapie. Black Mountain Vineyard (Fat Cat) Cabernet Sauvignon which you can find at Trader Joe’s for $6.99 a bottle. Definitely let it breathe before drinking. And, if you happen to stash one in the back of your attic, improperly stored for say, 9 years, can I tell you that upon finding it and drinking it you will be treated to a most exquisite glass of cabernet sauvignon. Try it and let me know if you agree.
All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009
