The Super Duper Pooper Scooper...Makes White Bean and Kale Soup

"I feel like a...like a...sh@$ shoveler. I can't help it and I know I'm like a broken record whining and moaning about this every year at this time. But I do. Every year there's this grand celebration about gifts and giving but once it's over and everyone has moved on to the next "big thing" who has to take care of the clean-up? Go through the old stuff to make room for the new stuff? Figure out what to do with the old stuff? Dump? Goodwill? Craig's List? Me, the sh@$ shoveler, that's who. Where's the giving in that?? I should have known that this would be part of my destiny. All those years of my parents handing me a bucket and a shovel and pointing to the dog pen while my father called out, 'There she goes, our little Super Duper Pooper Scooper!'"

And on and on I went, lamenting to one of my dearest, dearest friends about the aftermath of the holidays. Same old song and dance. But I can't help it. It's how I feel every year. The prospect of a pile of new stuff coming into our house just doesn't thrill me the way it might for other people. I tend to be cranky about it. I've been called Scrooge. I've even been told by my sweetie that I can be downright "scary" about the whole thing. And I know that any family member of mine who might be reading this right now is probably rolling his or her eyes....."Here she goes again."

But here's the thing....nothing thrills me more than a small handful of freshly sharpened pencils. A medicine cabinet that is organized and labeled. Lego pieces that have been separated into individual bins - Small, Medium, Large, People...as opposed to dumped into one big bin or "Horrors!" strewn across the floor making it difficult for people to walk down the hallway without knocking over a prized creation. A toy closet with up-to-date toys as opposed to one filled with toddler toys no longer used or wanted. A bookshelf with just a few loved possessions on it. Less is more. Less is more. Bring more stuff in the house and now "we" (ie: me)  have to find a new place for it. In closets that are already full.

As the years have gone by and time has become scarce due to the magnitude of responsibilities required for raising a family, I haven't been able to indulge my OCD tendencies like I used to. Organizing and purging take a lot of time. But, opening a closet, a cupboard or just walking in our garage has become a hazard. And every passing day, I become grumpier and grumpier about the situation.

And then, the funniest thing happened. I hung up the phone after my "vent session" and paragraph one, above, kept replaying in my mind. Over and over and over. And what I heard was that I am, in fact, the "Super Duper Pooper Scooper." So let's get going. Less talking...more walking. Just like the dishes....can't think about it. Just do it. And so, right at that very moment, I grabbed my labeler, wrote garbage on one bag and donate on another and ran up the stairs. I hauled everything out of my medicine cabinet and my toiletries drawer and dumped it on the floor. I wiped down the shelves. Dug out from another closet the organizing bin I'd purchased years ago for my drawer. Fired up the labeler. Categorized. Organized. Pitched. Purged. And not but an hour or two later, I stood back and admired my new sparkly clean and organized bathroom. I felt refreshed. I could breathe.

Right then and there, in that moment of blissful deep breathing, I decided that this had to continue. I had to make this a goal for 2011 - Clean out all closets, and dare I say it, the garage!! Lighten the load. And so, my dear friends, I have blocked out a regular time each week that I will be purging based on my prioritized list. Whatever gets done during that time is what gets done. I have been trying to talk my dear friend and neighbor into doing this with me. It could be like a race. As soon as the last ones are on the bus, we announce what we are organizing that day and then,...."On your mark get set go." We would meet back up at lunch time to discuss our progress. A little competition is always good for getting things done.

Want to join me...us? Choose your day, afternoon, evening. Perhaps tell me what is first on your list to organize. A little accountability is always good. I will be posting at the bottom of my weekly posts, what I will be organizing that week and whether or not I finished the project from the week before. That's my way of being accountable. Once winter is over....the spring cleaning may already be done.

In the meantime, as a way to lessen what actually comes into our home, I will continue to preach my time-honored mantras to my tribe:

Less is more.
Use up what you already have. 
Don't just buy to buy.
Take a moment to actually consider your purchases. 
Purge what is no longer needed. (This does not mean throw it in the garage or an already full closet.)
Time is a gift.

Hopefully one day, on the way from one ear to another, what I'm staying will get stuck there in the middle.



And speaking of gifts, here is one for one of you.....

Seattle's Best Coffee Curiosity Pack

The kind people at Seattle's Best Coffee have sent me a Curiosity Pack - 5 blends, 1 box - to give to one of you. I think the idea is quite ingenious. It's a way to try out a variety of blends, without having to purchase large quantities, in order to determine which type of coffee you like best. Mild, light, crisp...to bold, dark, intense. Should you be interested in receiving this little gift, leave me your name and email address in a comment below by the end of the day Friday, January 14th. I will draw a name from a hat and email the lucky person.

And while you're leaving comments....does anyone have any tips for organizing my nemesis....LEGOS!!



White Bean and Kale Soup Peppered with Pancetta

Since I was so busy with my organizing frenzy, no plans were made for dinner that evening. No inspiration was to be found. However, preaching my own mantras to myself, especially, "Use up what you already have.", I went to the cupboard and discovered I still had the ingredients for a soup I had planned to make the week before but never did. My family loves this soup and it incorporates one of those nutrient filled winter greens...kale. I'm sure if you wanted a vegetarian version, you could omit the pancetta and substitute vegetable stock for the chicken stock. Wouldn't be quite as richly flavored but would still be good, I'm sure. If you don't have cannellini beans, you could substitute any other white bean that you like. Make sure you read through the recipe below before starting. Dried beans are added at a different time than canned beans.

Ingredients:

1 lb dried cannellini beans OR 3 15-oz cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
2 tbsp olive oil
4 oz pancetta, diced
1 large yellow onion, peeled and diced
4 large carrots, peeled and diced
4 large celery sticks, diced
5 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp salt
1 tsp dried oregano
pinch of red pepper flakes
freshly ground black pepper
10 cups chicken stock
6 c loosely packed kale, chopped (I prefer lacinato kale.)
grated, parmesan cheese

Directions:
If using dried beans, rinse and pick over the dried beans, removing any possible pebbles. Put them in a heat-proof bowl. Cover beans with 8 cups of boiling water and let them soak for 1 hour. When they are finished, drain them in a colander. Meanwhile, start the rest of your soup.


In a large soup pot, heat your olive oil. Add pancetta and brown, about 5 minutes. Add onions, carrots and celery. Saute until soft about 8 minutes. Add garlic and saute 1 minute more. At this point you can remove from heat until your beans are ready.

Once dried beans have finished soaking, add them to the pot with your vegetables. Stir in the oregano, red pepper flakes, salt, a few cracks of black pepper and your chicken broth.

Bring the soup to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for 45 minutes. (30 minutes if you're using canned beans.)  Test for seasoning. Adding a bit more salt and pepper or red pepper flakes if needed.

Add your kale to the pot and if using canned beans, add them at this point as well. Simmer another 30 minutes until beans are soft.

Ladle into soup bowls. Top with grated parmesan cheese and enjoy.

Yield: One big pot full.


Super Duper Pooper Scooper Goal:
Jan 3-9 - medicine cabinet/toiletries drawer - done.
Jan 10-16 - dreaded shelves in game/toy closet


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

AM Northwest is in MY Kitchin' and We're Making "Soup on Monday"

When the kind, sweet people at AM Northwest asked if they could film a cooking segment in my kitchen, my first thought was, "Oh no, now I really am going to have to clean out that pantry." There's not much you can't find in my pantry. I like to keep my kitchen well-stocked with staples. Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes not. But regardless of which way you look at it, that tiny little closet was much in need of an overhaul. I could even see the eyes widen of one of my dearest friends when I told her of this opportunity and then, she glanced at my pantry. She, a former, professional organizer, kindly gave me some helpful tips. "Okay, you're going to need to pull everything out of there. Wipe it all down. And then, only put back in what you're actually going to use." I was grateful for her advice.

But, in true Carrie Minns procrastination fashion, the day before an actual, TV camera would set forth in my kitchen...I decided to clean the fridge first. "This won't take long. I'll get to the pantry in a little bit." Armed with a soapy scrubber and a sharp knife for chipping off "who knows what" on the side door, I went to work making the fridge shine.

Pleased with my work there, I headed toward the pantry but then, found myself drawn to the drawers of school paperwork that had not been sorted through in at least 2 years. My thinking was that, "I must clean out these drawers because what if I need to move items from the pantry into these drawers? What would I do then? There would be no room."

The sun was on her downward arc, my littlest one was following my every movement, people would be clamoring for dinner soon and I was starting to lose steam. I stood at the door of the pantry and stared. I half-heartedly took down some items from one shelf. Spruced them up. Put them back. Managed to do that same process with one more shelf. Swept the floor and then, decided, "Good enough." I turned and headed to the kitchen table where the 5-year old was waiting to challenge me in yet another titillating game of Candy Land.

A few weeks ago, my friend Fran asked me what I thought when I saw myself on the TV. "Do you find little things that you want to change? Are you overly critical of yourself?" And I told her honestly, "The older I get, the easier I am on myself." Somewhere along the way I realized that I'm just doing my best. Not perfectly by any means, but just like everyone else, I'm going about life the best way I know how. Years ago, I would have stayed up until 2 in the morning to clean out that pantry but now, I've realized that I do what I can. The pantry will always be there, but the 5-year old waiting to "whoop" me in Candy Land, won't.


If a video screen does not appear above this line, click here to be taken directly to the site.
And hey, check out that fridge, lookin' good...

To further expound on the TV segment, I do try my best to meal plan every week. I look at the schedule ahead and see how much time I have to cook on any given night. I consider what is in-season. Then, I write down some idea for dinner Monday-Thursday and Sunday, whether scribbled on a post-it note or put down officially in my planner. Friday is our family pizza night (and my night off.) Saturday, I'm never sure what will end up happening or whether I'll find something at the farmer's market that morning so I usually leave it up in the air. Sundays are our true "Family Dinner" night. I always plan to make something a little more special and the kids rotate having to partner with me to make that meal. I get to have some company and they get to learn some cooking skills. Then, it's back to cleaning out the fridge, for "Soup on Monday."

Here's a link to an actual recipe that mimics the soup I made on the segment: Rainy Day Vegetable Soup


And, if you want to look further into meal planning, here are two websites dedicated to meal planning.
My friend, Jane Maynard, plans weekly at: This Week For Dinner
And my friend, Tricia Callahan, plans monthly at: Once a Month Mom


One last thing, if you'd like an incredibly beautiful reminder of all the bounty that this season has to offer for meal planning, check out this desk top calendar which currently graces the screen of my computer:
November Calendar by Shanna Murray and Jen Causey


Have a wonderful weekend, my friends!



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

Getting Sentimental with Savory Chicken Pocket Pies

"Is something the matter? You don't seem yourself," my dear friend inquired of me. "I don't know. I feel a little....sad." "Melancholy?" "Yeah, maybe that's what it is...melancholy. I'm not sure why." Here it was. The end of the school year for my eldest children. A day that I had been so looking forward to. A day that I had literally been counting down the minutes until its arrival and now, here it was and....."sigh." I couldn't shake this...this...heaviness. Not wanting to cast a little black cloud over the end-of-the-year celebration, I tried to perk myself up by clinking glasses of champagne with my dear friends and tossing homemade chicken pocket pies out to the children. Then, after they'd inhaled their savory pie, hollering out to them that there were chocolate chip cookies for dessert...but they were already outside again.

Here it was the end of the school year and I should be rejoicing. No more lunches. No more homework. No more wondering whether my daughter would actually get herself ready for school in time to take the bus or once again, would I be driving the hour long round trip? Oh, I know, there are some of you dutiful parents out there thinking that I should teach her a lesson by simply saying to her, "If you don't make the bus, then, you don't go to school." But, let's think about that one. "Will that actually work?" and "Who really suffers from those consequences?" And, besides, I remember those junior high years. Spending hours in the morning on my Farrah Fawcett curls and my electric blue eyeliner. "And this too...shall pass." We hope...

Being raised in a military family, I grew up saying good-bye...a lot. Whether it was our family moving or another family. I also grew up saying good-bye to my own father for months, even years at a time. It was he who always reminded us, over and over again, "Never say good-bye. Always say, "I'll see you later." I've always carried around his little nugget of advice with me and have tried as best I could to honor the sentiment behind his words of wisdom but as more and more time collects behind me, I've come to realize that sometimes, good-bye is good-bye. And the end of the school year, while joyous for so many reasons, can also be a bit sad. It's the end of a chapter. In our lives. Our children's lives. And, not everything from that chapter carries forward. We say good-bye to teachers. Amazing, incredible teachers that we feel completely inept to properly thank. Teachers that not only taught our children but genuinely cared about them. Good-bye to that 5th year, that 10th year, that 12th year of our children's lives. Good-bye to a rhythm and tempo that was unique only for that one year. And saying good-bye can sometimes be...sad. Melancholy.

I left that Last-Day-of-School celebration with my spirits lifted a bit more thanks to the champagne Glee's season finale Medley of Journey songs blaring on the stereo. Nothing quite does it for me like a round of "Don't Stop Believin'" Takes me right back to those curls and electric blue eyeliner. And maybe my Dad's right. Maybe it is just, "See ya later." Look how "Don't Stop Believin'" shows back up out of nowhere. After we thought we'd said good-bye to it a long, long time ago. And, as I moved into the days of summer, I felt less sad. Just a bit of wistfulness was left. I had all my chickens home. No more schedules. No more daily commitments. And stretched out in front of us was an entire summer of togetherness.

Before I closed the car door, I turned to my eldest son and said, "No taunting or teasing your brother." Then, I turned to the littlest one and said, "Do not bite your brother again." And to both of them I said, "And you guys...no more wedgies." I could see them trying to choke back their smiles as I shut the door. As I ran in to get myself a latte yesterday morning, I thought to myself, "And, why were you excited for the end of the school year to be here? And why, exactly, were you sad?"


Savory Chicken Pocket Pies
Adapted from Lucinda Scala Quinn's recipe of the same name in her cookbook, Feeding Men and Boys

Now, let me say right off the bat, that this is not a weeknight recipe. No, this is a recipe you save for a cold and rainy Sunday afternoon and lucky for you, if you live in Portland, there are plenty of those kinds of afternoons to choose from right now. When you do find that perfect afternoon, make sure you double or even, triple this recipe. These little savory pies freeze beautifully and are a perfect snack for the members of your family with a bottomless pit for a stomach. Because I tend to be a vegetable-pusher, I decreased the amount of chicken from the original recipe and upped the amounts of carrots and celery but you could easily play around with those quantities to your own liking. Lucinda also has spinach & feta and beef empanada versions of these little pies in her cookbook that I can't wait to try. Speaking of her cookbook, Feeding Men and Boys, I highly recommend it. She hooked me right at the start, when she says in her introduction, "Feeding my four guys has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life. Eating is something we have to do, so why give it short shrift? If you have to do it, make it beautiful and spread the beauty."

Cream Cheese Pastry Ingredients
8 tbsp unsalted butter at room temperature
4 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 1/2 cups plus 2 tbsp all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp coarse salt

1 large egg for egg wash

Filling Ingredients
1 cup of shredded/chopped chicken meat (I recommend purchasing an already roasted chicken from the grocery store for this or you could get crazy and roast your own.)
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped carrots
1/2 tsp coarse salt
2 tbsp all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups chicken broth
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Directions
Start by making your pastry dough. Process the butter, cream cheese and cream in a food processor, electric mixer or by hand to thoroughly combine.

Then, add the flour and salt. Process just until combined and the dough holds together in a ball. Turn the dough out onto a well-floured surface. Divide into 2 pieces. Flatten into disks and wrap each in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before rolling out. If the dough is refrigerated overnight, take it out 15 minutes before rolling it out.

Next, chop up your chicken and your vegetables. Then, melt your butter in a medium-sized hot skillet and add the onion, celery and carrot. Sauté over medium heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in the salt and flour and cook for 1 minute more. Add the chicken broth and stir until thickened about 2 minutes. Stir in your chicken and the Parmesan cheese. Cool in the fridge.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Lightly grease or line a baking sheet.

Starting with one disk of dough, roll it out using a well-floured rolling pin on a well-floured surface until it is about 12 inches in diameter. Thin but not transparent. Using an overturned bowl, about 5 inches across, cut out circles about 3 at a time from each piece of dough. Gathering and re-rolling out the scraps until you can no longer cut out any additional circles. Do the same with the second disk of dough.

To form the pockets, place 1/8-1/4 cup of filling on one side of a dough circle. My filling mixture was fairly "soupy" so when I scooped up my filling I tried to let a bit of the "juice" strain out from my spoonful before putting it on the dough. Wet the edges of the dough with water or in my case, there was enough liquid from the filling to wet the edges. Fold the dough over to form a half circle. Pinch the edges of the dough together. Crimp the edges with a fork. Repeat the process until all the filling is used. Prick each pie on top twice with a fork. The pocket pies can be frozen at this point.

Place the pocket pies on the prepared baking sheet and chill for a few minutes. When ready to bake, beat the egg with 1 tbsp water. Brush the egg wash over each pocket pie. Bake for 20-25 minutes, until golden brown. Let rest for 5 minutes before serving.

I served these for dinner one time along with a green salad and another time, I passed them out to my children and their friends. Definitely a crowd pleaser. Enjoy.

Yield: About 10


Saving/Freezing for later:
You can "save" these for later a couple of ways. You can place freshly prepared, unbaked pies in a single layer on a baking sheet and put in the freezer. Once they are frozen solid, they can be stacked together in a resealable bag or other container for easy storage. To bake from frozen, place on a baking sheet, brush with the egg wash and bake according to the recipe but for about 5 minutes longer.

You can also cool the freshly baked pies and then, freeze them. Your brood can then reheat them in the microwave to satiate their undying hunger in just a few minutes.


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

Oh, Ye, Benevolent Butternut Squash Minestrone

With Herculean effort, I was dragging the bag, filled with the remnants of my vegetable garden, up the never-ending flight of stairs and muttering to myself about what a hair-brained idea of mine it had been to put the garden back there. What kept me going; however, was knowing that my dear, sweet children were in the front yard, dutifully performing their family project for that weekend - raking the leaves. I was anticipating the relief I would feel once I saw the pristine lawn and beds, all of which was to be made possible by their kindhearted effort.

(Yes, that is a spider man band-aid on my finger. Click here to learn how to peel and dice butternut squash without impaling yourself.)

As I mounted the last stair and peeked around the garage, I was met with silence. I stood there perplexed. Confused. Not a sole (or a rake) in sight. "Huh. Where did they all go?" I looked at the lawn. Better...but still a layer of leaves. The beds were still chock full of leaves and the water run-off gully was still clogged. With my load of yard debris still at my side, I could feel myself getting worked up. I heaved the bag over to the side of the garage and slammed it down. In long, heavy strides, I crossed to the front door, opened it up and yelled, "Where are you guys?" The eldest and the youngest, immediately surfaced, (already sporting slippers and warm sweaters) claiming, "We thought we were done." The 10-year old came out of his commando hiding spot about 10 minutes later, grinning but clearly, guilty. I, meanwhile, had grabbed a rake and started to forcefully rake up at least 10 more piles. Stewing. Talking to myself. Saying things like, "Why do I have to be the only one to do these things?" "What am I raising here...a bunch of royalty?" "Oh, I bet their enjoying their time in front of the TV, playing legos, reading a good book while I'm out here RAKING! In the freezing COLD!"

(In case you were wondering about my main squeeze, he was upstairs doing the laundry. We have a bit of a role reversal here in our family.)

I have found that, sometimes, I do my best parenting when I'm tired, have run out of patience and have worked myself up into a frenzy. So, in that moment of frenetic leaf raking, "The Benevolence Jar" was born.

Later that evening at our family dinner, I presented the concept behind "The Benevolence Jar". (My dear, sister can't get past the fact that I named it The Benevolence Jar and yes, maybe that was a bit over the top but still...it sounds important, distinguished.)

"Do you know what benevolence means? Anyone?" Silence. "I define benevolence as not just being kind but having the wisdom to know why you are being kind. Like last night, Daddy picked up dinner for us, served it and did all the dishes to be kind, yes, but also, because he knew I was tired. When you say, "Good Morning," to your brothers and sisters you do it to be kind, yes, but also to show that you care about them." I went on with more examples, a speech about how a family needs to operate like a team with everyone pitching in and so on and so forth. Unsure of what was to come, the kids remained silent. Then, I laid two jars on the table. One filled halfway with pennies. One empty but labeled "Benevolence."

"You three will need to work together to fill "The Benevolence Jar." You do so by performing one or more of these acts of kindness that I've put here on the list." I unrolled the single spaced list, at least three sheets long, that I had typed up upon coming inside from the leaf frenzy. "I will tape this to the refrigerator for your reference."

"Each night at dinner we will go around the table and you can toot your own horn about the kind things you have done that day in regards to our family. You're on the honor system here since I can't be watching you at every moment. Should you behave selfishly or cruelly to members of this family, well, then, a penny will come out of the benevolence jar and you will need to earn it again. Once the jar is filled, I will treat you to a trip to Skinnidip, a round of bowling, an afternoon movie or an evening of board games. Your choice. We start tomorrow." From the sparkle I detected in their eyes, I could tell that the game was on.

For the first week, pennies were going in the jar for clearing dishes, emptying backpacks and lunch boxes without complaining, remembering to say, "Good morning" or "How was your day?" to family members. The boys were the first ones to have pennies come out of the jar, one for teasing, one for biting. I packed up those jars and hauled them with us to Central Oregon where we spent a glorious, snowy Thanksgiving week with Nana and Papa. Have benevolence, will travel.

As the days went by, I began to notice a difference in their behavior. Instead of busting past his little brother to get to the sink first for hand-washing, the 10-year old consciously slowed down and let his brother go first. I found them asking more and more often, "Is there anything else I can do?" "Mom, can I clear your dishes?" Of course, there were times when the whole process was a bit questionable, such as when the 12-year old, in teen-speak, says to the teary, 4-year old, "Hey, I'm sorry I said "Chilladelphia" to you, but you are waaaaay past spicy." To which he replies, "I just don't want to hear that." To which, I comment, "Thank you for using your words to tell your sister that instead of screaming." And, the competitive, 10-year old, focused on filling the jar, perks up, saying, "Penny in the jar?"

Back at home, the eve before returning to school/work, I put down bowls of Butternut Squash Minestrone (aka: Old Mother Hubbard Went to the Cupboard and These Were the Ingredients She Found) and some warm, cheddar biscuits. Six pennies were left to be put in "The Benevolence Jar." At this point, however, they were pros and they ticked them right off with things like, "Not only helping us load and pack the car for coming home without complaining but asking us what else you could do to help even when that meant taking out the garbage." "For waiting and allowing your sister to climb into the back of the car first instead of busting your way in and making her climb over you." And the last penny, went in for the littlest one, "For not acting goofy when sitting on Santa's lap. Nicely talking to him about your list and explaining the pictures you drew. Remembering to tell him "Thank You" when you were done."

As with anything, I'm sure the novelty will wear off, but I can enjoy it for now, can't I? And, perhaps, if I can get one last, "job well-done" family rake project under my belt, it will all be worth it.

When we were done eating, the 10-year old dumped the pennies out of "The Benevolence Jar" and back to their starting position. He then, flipped a penny back into the jar, and skipped off toward the kitchen sink, hollering, "Cleared my dishes without complaining." And so, we begin again.

Oh, Ye, Benevolent Butternut Squash Minestrone

As I'm sure you can relate, I returned home after a week of being gone, to rather bare cupboards. Not in the mood to head out to the grocery store, I decided to evaluate what I had on hand. The rather, phallic, butternut squash that had been sitting on the counter for weeks immediately cried out to me as if it was equipped with an alarm. And, so, I built this soup dish around him. Not having any bread on hand either, I pulled out this old biscuit recipe from the recipe box and threw in a handful of minced chives from the chives in my yard who have clearly not read the memo stating that winter is almost here and it's time to stop growing. Enjoy.

2 tbsp olive oil

1 leek, white and light green parts, chopped

1 med onion, chopped

1 1/2 c carrots, about 3, diced

2 celery stalks, diced

1 1/2 c butternut squash, diced (dice up and freeze your remaining squash for future recipes)

4 sprigs of thyme

2 tbsp fresh sage, chopped

1 bay leaf

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

2 qt chicken broth

2 med white boiling potatoes, cubed

1 15-oz can of cannellini beans, drained and rinsed

1/2 cup orzo pasta

freshly, grated parmesan cheese

Heat your olive oil in a large soup pot. Add your leek, onion, carrots and celery and saute about 10 minutes, until your onions are transluscent. Add your butternut squash, thyme, sage, bay leaf, salt and pepper and potatoes to the pot. Pour in your chicken stock, cover and bring to a boil. With your lid askew, simmer for about 30-40 minutes or until your veggies are soft. Add the beans and the pasta. At a high simmer, cook for another 10 minutes, or until pasta is cooked through. If you plan to let your soup simmer on the stove for longer than 40 minutes, do not add your beans and pasta until closer to when you plan to serve your soup.

Ladle into shallow bowls and serve with the parmesan cheese and salt and pepper. Add a basket of warm biscuits and some sliced, apples or pears and dinner is served.

Yield: A big "pot-full." Enough for a family of 5 with leftovers to pop into thermoses the next day for lunch away from home.

Cheddar Cheese Biscuits

1 1/2 c white flour

1 1/2 c whole, wheat pastry flour

1 1/2 tbsp baking powder

1 tbsp sugar

2 1/4 tsp salt

2 1/2 c heavy cream

1 cup grated, sharp cheddar cheese

2 tbsp minced chives (optional)

3 tbsp butter

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Combine flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Add cream, cheese and chives and stir gently with a wooden spoon, mixing just until dough holds together.

Turn dough out onto a lightly floured work surface. Knead once or twice, just enough to incorporate cream and cheese into flour mixture. Handle dough as little as possible, or biscuits will not rise.

Roll out dough about 1" thick on a lightly floured work surface. Cut with a 1 3/4" biscuit cutter or a champagne flute. Place biscuits about 2" apart on ungreased cookie sheets, then set aside for 10 minutes. Allowing dough to rest at this stage will produce taller, lighter biscuits. (Biscuits, once cut, may be frozen.)

Melt butter in a small skillet over low heat, then cool slightly. (Or pop in the microwave for about 20 seconds.) Brush biscuit tops with butter. Bake until golden brown, about 20 minutes. Serve warm from the oven.

Biscuits are best eaten immediately, but can be reheated for 5-10 minutes in a 300 degree oven. Frozen biscuits may be baked without thawing. Bake in a preheated 300 degree oven for 20 minutes, then increase heat to 350 degrees and bake for 5 more minutes.

Yield: about 40 biscuits. I have "halved" this recipe with great success.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Lentil Soup for a Blustery Day

Despite its self-proclaimed “Day of Rest”, I was exhausted from the weekend. The morning was dark until way past 8am. I was sleepy. I knew that exercising would help clear my mind but I was too tired to exercise. I stared out the window as the torrential rain rammed against the side of our house. The deluge of water that cascaded down our window reminded me that the gutter that was broken the last time it rained was, in fact, still broken. I thought of my daughter who had bounded out the door not but 15 minutes ago, late for the bus and without a jacket. My gaze fell onto the lawn. The lawn that two days ago had but nary a leaf on it thanks to yours truly. Sigh. Now, it was covered again with autumn’s version of snow.

“Curses!” I suddenly called out to no one in particular. I realized that in my grogginess of the prior evening, I had failed to set out the yard debris bin. “Ah...two weeks til I can try again. Two more weeks of leaves and a yard bin that is already full to the brim….gads.”

All I really wanted to do was crawl back in bed. And, sleep. Me, the cat and the sound of rain. But, the thought of me, luxuriously napping away while my sweetie was out “hunting and gathering” was just too guilt ridden. So, I shuffled into my office, opened up my laptop and willed myself to be productive. I sifted through emails and then, somehow found myself immersed in a two-hour one-hour project of transferring all of my favorite blogs and websites over to delicious. I can tell that you are secretly chuckling at me. Chuckling because you too know what it means to wile away the time out in cyberspace. When the joy of tagging websites eventually began to wane, I did what any woman in my state of mind would do…I went shopping. For, food.

I guided my car down the leaf-covered roads. With no children, the car was quiet. Only the sound of tires on wet pavement. Walking through the parking lot of my favorite grocery store, a seagull, so far from the sea, squawked at me from atop a streetlight. Trying to beat the next shower, I hurried inside and saddled right up to the counter to order myself a Stumptown “non-fat latte with a splash of vanilla, please.” And then, I slowly wound myself in and out of aisles. Simply taking the time to take it all in.

Back in front of my kitchen sink, I listened to my rainy day favorite, while I chopped up onions, leeks, carrots and celery. Children arrived home from school. Plopped down with books. Worked on homework. Ran outside and returned, when dinner was called, with bright red cheeks and a freshness about them.

With a bowl of soup in front of us and bread and apples within reach, we all sat around the table. We talked about nothing in particular but we talked. We laughed. We ate. And, I thought, if I have done one thing today…I have fed my family. And, maybe, for today, that’s enough.

Lentil Soup for a Blustery Day

(Adapted from Ina Garten’s Lentil Sausage Soup)

¾ lb or 1½ c of French green lentils such as du Puy

1/8 c olive oil

2 large, yellow onions, diced (approx 4 c)

2 leeks, chopped, white and light green parts only

2 large garlic cloves, minced

1 tsp salt

¾ tsp black pepper

1 tbls fresh thyme leaves, minced OR 1 tsp dried thyme

1 tsp cumin

2 c diced celery

2 c diced carrots

3 quarts chicken broth

¼ c tomato paste OR a 15 oz can diced tomatoes

1 pound kielbasa, cut in half lengthwise and then, sliced 1/3 inch thick

2 tbls dry red wine or red wine vinegar, optional

Freshly grated Parmesan cheese for serving.

In a large bowl, cover the lentils with boiling water (or water from your “insta-hot”) and allow them to sit for 15 minutes. Drain and set aside. Please note that you must use the french green lentils when you are making this soup. The regular ole brown ones just turn to mush and well, mush, especially when it's brown in color, is just not that appetizing.

In a LARGE stock-pot over medium heat, heat the olive oil, then, sauté your onions, leeks, garlic, salt, pepper, thyme and cumin for about 20 minutes or until the vegetables are soft and translucent. As I am always pressed for time, I chop my onions, and then add them to the pot. Then, the next vegetable and so on rather than stockpiling and adding them all to the pot at once. Even if each vegetable wasn’t sautéed for exactly 20 minutes, it doesn’t seem to affect the final product.

Add the carrots and celery and sauté for another 10 minutes or so. Then, add the chicken stock, tomato paste (or tomatoes) and drained lentils, cover and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer uncovered for 40 minutes or until the lentils are cooked through and tender. (Or you can do what I did this night and find that fine line between simmer and boil, which seems to cook the lentils in about 30 minutes.) Add the kielbasa and red wine and simmer until the kielbasa is hot about 5 more minutes. Ladle into bowls, sprinkle with grated Parmesan and enjoy.

Yield: About 8 to 10 servings

Now, before you write this recipe off as way too much chopping, please note that this makes a huge batch. And, what’s more, this soup makes a great lunch for you or your little buddies the next day. Nothing more comforting than opening up a thermos of scrumptious lentil soup at school or work…especially on a blustery, “indoor recess” kind of day.

PS: For you vegetarians out there, I’ve also made this soup without the kielbasa. Exchanged vegetable broth for chicken broth and added a 28 oz can of drained, fire roasted tomatoes instead of tomato paste. Delicious.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Rainy Day Vegetable Soup

After years of cajoling, pleading, begging and badgering by my children...I finally planted the oft-promised vegetable garden. Of course, once the hoopla surrounding the choosing of the vegetables and the planting of the seeds was over, I was left alone to tend to my little plot. (Just as I'm sure would happen if I ever cave to the cries of, "When can we have a puppy?" Just me, the full grown dog, his hair and his, well, his "business" to pick up.) All that aside, I am thoroughly happy to tend to my garden. There is something quite gratifying about seeing those little green shoots poke their way up out of my plot's blank canvas. Even more satisfying is skipping back into the kitchen with a bowl full of my very own lettuce for that evening's salad. Lettuce I didn't have to pay for. Lettuce I didn't have to use the car to acquire. Lettuce that I know hasn't been sprayed with anything other than water. And, never mind about the little holes throughout the leaves, I'm happy to share my harvest with a few nighttime critters.

My little "potager" was ticking right along. The lettuce season was drawing to a close as the weather heated up. I was looking forward to my summer produce. Luscious tomatoes, crisp cucumbers and loads of zucchini I'd have to leave on doorsteps of neighbors in the middle of the night because I wouldn't know what to do with it all. And then, dear friend, as I'm sure you can sympathize...a water leak. One of those household maintenance projects that comes at you out of nowhere and scoots itself right to the top of the To Do list and strong arms everything else aside. There sat my precious garden. Right beneath the culprit of the leak...horrors! Over the course of the next few weeks, I watched as my tomato plants bravely stretched out their arms, baring their little yellow flowers and green globes. The zucchini put out its cheery orange blossoms and the cucumber plant decided to climb out and over the side. The beans bailed on the trellis and instead, scampered all over the ground. Meanwhile, a hailstorm of sawdust and debris tumbled down onto my little plants. Men on ladders were climbing up and over them. Mother Nature decided to heat up Portland to an unheard of 106 degrees. (Or 110, or 115 depending on whom you speak with and how much they like to embellish.) Their branches were broken. Their green leaves appeared to be covered with snow. And yet, even at the worst of it, when I could hardly bear to watch, I'd peak out from behind the curtain and somehow they were still there. Growing. Thriving.

I'm happy to report that I reaped my first harvest. Not much I'll admit but still...it's something. I popped the first 5 cherry tomatoes right into my mouth...well, after I gave them a good brushing off. Didn't share nary a one. I wasn't sure what to expect considering that their growing environment had been less than ideal. Ummmm. Sweet. Luscious. Juicy. And, the best part of homegrown tomatoes right off the vine...they were still warm from the sun.

As often happens here in Portland, even in the summer, our warm, morning sun was quickly blotted out by rain clouds, the temperature dropped and what should have been a day full of sprinklers and peals of laughter, became a day that sent everyone indoors, putting on jammies, wool socks and pining away for a nice, fall soup. Usually, I don't make this soup until autumn when the kids are back in school and apples are in season but considering that I had fresh, green beans at my beckon call and the weather had taken a turn...I went ahead. Plus, being a prolific soup maker, I had finally used the gift card my parents had bestowed upon me two years ago for Christmas to buy a brand new soup pot and I was dying to give it a whirl. So, there I stood, happy as a clam, cutting up my onions, green beans, zucchini and carrots while I sipped on a glass of scott paul pinot noir, cuvée Martha Pirrie, in honor of my dear father-in-law (or as the French say and I much prefer, my “beau-pére”) who passed away a year ago this day. I had his favorite Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass song, A Taste of Honey, playing in the background and I contentedly found myself lost in my remembrances of him and surrounded by the warm, swirling smells of sautéed onions.

I set down steaming bowls of my vegetable soup, a plate of Ayers Creek Farm blackberries and yellow peaches, sliced ciabatta bread and remnants of cheese pieces I found in the fridge - goat, brie, a hunk of cheddar - on the worn kitchen table. Within minutes, my children had licked their platters clean and we were nourished and fulfilled by our humble meal. We talked about Grandad. His smile. His quiet laugh. His humming. His love for his grandkids. And, as my sweetie put it, his gratitude for seemingly small things. So, please, if you will, dear friend, raise a glass for Grandad, his genuine gratitude and the pleasure of the harvest no matter how small. No matter how dusty.

Rainy Day Vegetable Soup - Summer Version

Ingredients:

1 tbls olive oil or a couple laps around the pot with the olive oil jug

2 med yellow onions

2 garlic cloves

1 cup carrots, diced

1 cup celery, diced

1 cup green beans, chopped into 1" pieces

2 medium zucchini, diced

2 tsp Herbes de Provence OR 6 sprigs fresh thyme & 2 bay leaves

2 qts chicken broth OR 2 qts vegetable broth for a vegetarian version

1 28-oz can diced tomatoes

1 15-oz can cannellini beans OR any other any other can of white beans you have lying around

2 medium, red- or white-skinned potatoes, cubed

A handful of small pasta - alphabet, orzo, broken spaghetti pieces, etc.

1 tsp salt & 1/2 tsp ground pepper or to taste

Piece of parmesan cheese rind, optional

Pistou, optional:

1 cup fresh basil leaves

2 garlic cloves

1/4 cup grated, parmesan cheese

1/8 to 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/8 cup tomato paste, optional

Directions:

Before you begin, dear friend, please gather up for yourself a glass of your favorite sipping beverage, whether it be the aforementioned pinot noir or a simple cup of mint tea. (Sometimes my choice is tied directly to the noise level in our home.) Put on your favorite, calming, mood music and then, find yourself lost in the repetitive motion of your VERY SHARP knife slicing through the bounty.

Put your pot over low to medium heat to warm-up. Prep your onions to be diced. Swirl the olive oil in your pot and then, dice your onions. I find that doing these tasks in this order results in the perfect timing for heating and dicing. Now, if the thought of dicing an onion makes you literally flee the kitchen, please treat yourself to this 1 minute video How to Chop an Onion or most likely, any other you find on youtube of the same subject. I learned this technique years ago and it has made all the difference. You can apply the same principles to your other dicing needs as well.

Put your diced onion into your pot over medium-low heat. You want your onion to soften and become translucent with just a hint of caramel color but you don't want it to brown or burn. I find that this step, done correctly, is the secret to all delicious soups calling for onion. Stir occasionally. Check your heat to make sure your onions are not browning too quickly.

While your onion is sautéing, dice up your garlic, carrots and celery. Once they are prepped, pour them all into the pot, give them a stir and continue chopping your zucchini and green beans. Put them into the pot. Add the spices or fresh herbs, salt and pepper. Stir. Chop up your potato. At this point, your onions, celery and carrots should be softened and your green beans and zucchini, warmed. Pour your chicken stock and tomatoes into the pot, drop in the optional piece of parmesan cheese rind and bring it all to a boil. Once boiling, add your potatoes, bring back to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer 20-25 minutes.

While your soup is simmering, you can decide to make the pistou or skip it. I always base my decision on how much time I have, how much energy I have remaining from my daily allotment and whether or not I have any fresh basil laying around. A nice grating of parmesan cheese over this soup does just as nicely as the pistou.

On this day, I decided to make the pistou which is just a fancy way of saying I made a type of paste that you dollop on top of your finished vegetable soup for added flavor dimension. Not having a mortal and pestle, I chopped up the basil and garlic. Then, I took the backside of a serving spoon and mashed up the two ingredients on my cutting board. I added the grated cheese to the pile and continued mashing. Then I just drizzled the olive oil on top. Stirred it all together until it was pasty and had everyone serve themselves the pistou straight from the cutting board. Why dirty another dish?

By this time, the "stomach-growling inducing" aroma filled the kitchen. I washed my blackberries. Sliced my peaches. Pulled some cheese out of the fridge to warm-up to room temperature. My buzzer went off. I added the cannellini beans and the handful of pasta and set the timer for another 10 minutes. By the time my buzzer went off again, I had laid out the bread, cheese, fruit and finagled one of the children innocently passing by the kitchen to pour a round of water for everyone. Before you knew it, we were sitting down to our meal and toasting Grandad.

Now, as with all things worth waiting for - wine, women, types of cheese, soups - this soup is delicious the first day but even better the next day and the next. As the soup ages, flavors co-mingle to give it a certain depth and complexity it lacks when it's so young. So, enjoy it for dinner tonight but appreciate the soup's deeper flavors the following days.

PS: Fish out that cheese rind after the initial cooking. I find that when left in the soup for subsequent days, the cheese flavor over-powers all of the other ingredients and therefore, tuns vegetable soup into a rather disturbing-looking cheese soup. And while you're fishing, you may want to grab the bay leaves and thyme stems. You wouldn't want to accidentally choke those down.

Yield: Enough for a family of 5, plus leftovers for lunch the next day.

Originally written: August 12, 2009

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009