Letting Go with Counter-Top Salads for Dinner

IMPORTANT MESSAGE: Please read my message after the story especially my gracious email subscribers.


She was three years old when she performed in her first dance recital. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and The Bunny Hop. Her little feet could be heard "tap, tap, tapping" away as she practiced for her big debut.

Considering that when she wasn't dancing she was impersonating Mary Poppins, she seemed destined for life as a performer.

On the soccer field, she was the one with bows in her hair, picking daisies, twirling around and skipping as the ball rolled past her.

When the girls around her and the competitiveness of the game grew to such a level that skipping as the ball rolled past you wasn't considered cute anymore, the Rooster and I decided to pull her from soccer. We encouraged her to forge her own path in dance.

And dance, she did...ballet, pointe, jazz, hip-hop, tap, lyrical. Six nights a week. She blossomed into an amazing dancer. And call me bias....but I love to watch her dance. She's beautiful on-stage.

And just when there seemed to be no end to her dancing days and at the height of sequins, sparkles, lycra, stage make-up and dark auditoriums, she said to me, "Mom, I'd really like to try lacrosse."

Like a needle being ripped across a record, the room went silent.

"Lacrosse?"

"Yeah, my friends who play are always telling me how fun it is."

"But, sweetie, you have to wear goggles...and a mouthguard," I said to my fashion-concious daughter.

"I know."

"And you have to get in there and mix-it up with sticks and a ball," added the Rooster. "You don't like competitive contact. Remember when you played soccer?"

"No, I don't remember. Last time I played I was like in fourth grade."

That was probably true. While her "out-in-the-field picking daisies" ways were still very present in our minds, for her it was four years ago. Practically a lifetime.

We continued to throw out reasons why lacrosse wouldn't work for her and she continued to come back with reasons why it would.

On her own, she worked out a schedule that would accommodate lacrosse, dance and school. She contacted coaches about getting on the team. She figured out how to get to and from practices. When game time came around, she not only got in there and mixed-it up, she was aggressive. And fast.

When she asked to go to a tournament in Seattle at the end of the season, we had to say no. "You are committed to your dance classes that conflict with the lacrosse practices. Your recital is coming up. You can't miss class. Other dancers are counting on you."

She contacted the coaches for the tournament and arranged to miss Monday night practices so she could be at dance. I told the Rooster that her determination should be rewarded so we agreed to let her go to the tournament.

Her team, the Bulldogs, played three games in the tournament. The Rooster and I watched every one from under umbrellas, down jackets and fleece blankets. We watched our daughter flying down the field in the rain, fighting for the ball amidst a swarm of sticks and on occasion, putting that little ball into the net to score.

Her team lost all three games. The final game had a score of 2-13 but her coach awarded her "Player of the Game" for her persistence and hard work and I felt myself tear up.

There is something so gratifying about watching your child succeed at something that she alone wanted. Something she was determined to do even if her parents were trying to talk her out of it.

So last week, instead of feeling bitter about driving her out to a lacrosse camp clear across town, leaving no time to cook but only time for counter-top meals, I was happy to do it.

And as she limped along into her dance recital over the weekend, I could tell by her demeanor that perhaps this phase of her life was coming to a close. She was still beautiful on-stage but there was something removed about her stance. And when I asked her if she thought she'd take dance next year, she said to me, "Well, I know you like me to do dance...."

That's when I told myself, "Let go."

I don't know whether her future will hold mouthguards or ballet slippers but I do know that it is her future and I am loving watching her decide for herself just what that future will be.


...


IMPORTANT MESSAGE: I know I have alluded to the fact that  I have been working with web designer, Kirsten Hope, to create a new look for La Pomme de Portland. She has helped me create a lovely new space. I know you will love it.

The time has come for us to do the site transfer. In order to do so, my website will be down for about a week starting July 3rd. I'm letting you know this for a couple of reasons.

1. I am crossing all fingers and toes that nothing will happen but there is a chance that in the transfer I may loose a few of my email subscribers' subscriptions. I apologize in advance for this. Should you not receive your regular emails from me after July 10th, you may need to go back onto my site and re-subscribe. My site address will remain the same: www.lapommedeportland.com

2. In case you want any recipes for Fourth of July, I encourage you to print them off soon. :) Once the site transfer happens, all recipes, new and old, will be available again.

Counter-Top Salads
Sometimes there just isn't time to cook. Sometimes I don't want to cook. During the summer, I don't like to spend a lot of time in the kitchen especially considering that we've just come off of the coldest, wettest spring on record in 117 years...I want to be outside where it is finally sunny. One of my favorite meals when I'm feeling like this is the ole counter-top salad. Basically, pull out any leftover bits and pieces from your refrigerator and slap them on the counter with some lettuce as a base and a vinaigrette as a topping and voila....dinner. I'm always amazed at the things my children will put on their salads...that I didn't think they would like...when I let them choose their own toppings.

Ingredients
Of course, these ingredients could be anything you have leftover but here are my favorites....

a head or two of romaine lettuce, washed and coarsely chopped
cherry tomatoes
blanched green beans
cooked red potatoes, cut into quarters
hard boiled eggs
leftover roasted chicken
crumbled gorgonzola
and usually, I put a little crumbled bacon on top or avocado but I didn't have any leftover this time

homemade vinaigrette, recipe here.


Directions
I'm assuming that most of this is leftover from other meals but should you be making it from scratch, here are a few quick tips.

To blanch green beans, trim the ends then put in boiling water for two minutes. Drain the water and immediately run cold water over them to stop them from cooking.

To cook your potatoes, wash them, quarter them and put them in a pot of salted boiling water for about 12-15 minutes or until just softened. Drain water and set aside.

For the hard boiled eggs, everyone has a different method for the timing but I put mine in a pot, cover with cold water, bring to a boil, reduce heat to very, very low and simmer for 12 minutes. Drain and run cold water over them.

For your chicken, get a roasted one from the grocery store.

Put all of your ingredients out on your counter...plates at one end, vinaigrette at the other and let the troops have at it. Quick and easy....enjoy.

...


Organizing Project
The only thing I have been organizing is my summer....travel dates, camp registrations, down time, up time...so that I can simply enjoy and not have to worry about the details.



All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2011

Cherry Tomato and Asparagus Summer Salad on AM Northwest

So, my dear friends, this week has been filled with milestones, celebrations and a few tears on the part of yours truly. One headed to high school, one to middle school and one leaving that sweet, sweet year of Kindergarten and as I've said before every first for my littlest one is a monumental last for me. To say, "last day of Kindergarten" is a bit extra-emotional for me. Me, the weeper.

I'm sure you will understand when I say that I won't have one of my usual musings post this week. My time this week is being spent with family but I do leave you with a live version of a delicious summer salad I posted on La Pomme last July. Toss in a little chicken, some leftover grilled steak or serve it on the side of your grilled salmon. A perfect summer meal!!

Cherry Tomato and Asparagus Salad

Brought to life on AM Northwest

Click here for the recipe. (It's the second recipe...although the first one is good too!)

If a video screen does not appear above this line, click here to be taken directly to the site.


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2011

Rosemary Cheese Bites and The Winner Is....

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. :)

Click here to hop on over to Rosemary Cheese Bites


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

Chicken Marinara or Dinner from a Bottle and a Bag

It's 6:00 a.m., the radio is blaring but I'm not budging. Gone are the mornings when I gleefully arose, tiptoed downstairs through the dark house and pedaled my legs around the elliptical for a half hour like a gerbil in a habitrail while watching french films. This particular morning, I barely exert the energy to roll over and whack that alarm sending it into snooze mode. And so it goes, every 20 minutes for the next hour.

Finally, at 7:00 a.m. by sheer willpower, I lumber out of bed, open the doors of my sleeping chickens (except for my middle guy who is always up and at 'em before anyone), holler out a half-hearted "Good morning. Time to get up.", before I reluctantly make my way downstairs. I'm dreading what's waiting for me down there. And what's waiting for me is....the dang school lunches.

Can I be honest here? I'm worn out. I'm tired of being the cheerleader. The one who motivates everyone to get their homework done, get ready for this or that, speeds around the city getting them to their activities on-time which is a major feat for me considering I'm never on-time myself.* The one making sure they pick-up after themselves, brush their teeth, get to bed on-time, treat other people with respect, use good manners. And the one making meal after meal after meal. If only they would stop eating.

Just last week my middle-guy tells me with a twinkle in his eyes about his need for a nap...during school. How he convinced some buddies to turn the pages of his book during quiet reading time while he snoozed. For crying out loud! Normally, I would have launched into some big lecture on the importance of school, of getting to bed early, of how crucial reading skills are for success in life and on and on. But I was too tired for all of that. Instead, I just looked at him with fascination and said with a sigh, "Well, I guess everyone has their methods for getting through life."

(Although, Mr. Most Fabulous Teacher of my Fifth-Grade Son, if you happen to be reading this...consider yourself "tipped-off" but please, don't reveal your source. :) )

And then just this weekend, we were enjoying a lovely time on the Oregon Coast. We had our cars parked to block the wind so we could soak in a little sun. The adults were circled around in our beach chairs. The children were splashing in the water, building sand castles, tossing around the lacrosse ball and all seemed blissful when suddenly, the 5th grader emerges from the car with a bloody lip.

Upon further investigation, he had apparently been hit by an unidentified flying object hurled by the kindergartner. When I asked the kindergartner why he had thrown the object at his brother, he said with a quivering lip, "He was pressing on my heart!" Now, I could have launched into a dissertation about how we treat each other or tried the "hold hands" method of reconciliation again but that seemed like a lot of effort. Instead, I sighed and said, "Well, I guess what goes around comes around."

And as you can imagine, in this household, we have a constant dialogue running about eating healthy. I'm constantly pushing the fruits and vegetables. Yes, we have some "junk food" in-house but it's not a lot. And while all of my children are good eaters, my daughter definitely wins the award for "Healthiest Eater."

Recently, I had noticed that she had stopped making her normal smoothies for after-school snack but instead was gravitating toward bowls of ice cream. Just a few days ago, she somehow managed to get a tub of Butterfinger Ice Cream into the grocery cart and then, proceeded to munch it down, bowl after bowl. And guess what? Instead of lecturing her about healthy eating and on and on and on....I shrugged my shoulders, scooped myself up a bowl and plopped down on the couch to eat it with her because to bring it full circle...I'm pooped.

Which is why, not only do I dread making the school lunches these days, I dread the dinnertime hour....and I love to cook. But the problem is, I'm out of energy and ideas. Plain and simple.

This is when I tell myself, "not every meal has to be from scratch." "It's okay if the chicken and the vegetables didn't come from your own backyard. Really." Because sometimes you just need to get dinner on the table and preserve what little energy you have left to try and enjoy the end-of-the-school-year celebrations. A year of hard work - yours, your husband's and the children's. Celebrating your daughter leaving middle school and heading to high school. Your middle guy leaving grade school and heading to middle school. And, the last few weeks that you'll ever - ever and ever and ever - have a kindergartner. {sigh}


*For the record, the hubs helps with all of this as well and he's just as tired but he doesn't really like me to talk about him here on La Pomme; however, I wanted to make sure he got his "credit due" which is hugely appreciated and I couldn't do it without him. xo

Chicken Marinara
I find that I tend to make this meal every year around this time. When I'm out of energy and ready for summer. The kids always love it as well as the hubs. (As you may have noticed, I kind of like calling him "the hubs.") You can use whatever your favorite jarred marinara/pasta sauce is. For awhile I was using Dave's Gourmet Pasta Sauce but now I have a crush on Trader Joe's Organic Vodka Sauce. I also use a cast iron skillet for this recipe which moves easily from the stove-top to the oven but if you do not have an oven-friendly skillet you could always sear your chicken in a skillet and then, transfer the chicken to an oven-safe dish before you pour on your sauce and cheese.

Ingredients
3 boneless, skinless chicken breast sliced lengthwise into 3 pieces each
1-2 tbsp olive oil

salt and pepper

2 cups of jarred marinara/tomato sauce (I'm loving Trader Joe's Organic Vodka Sauce right now.)
1 bag pre-shredded mozzarella and parmesan cheese or Italian Cheese Blend

Directions
Pre-heat your oven to 425 degrees.

Begin by cutting your chicken breasts lengthwise into 3 pieces each - although sometimes I end up with four. I'm sure I'm breaking all kinds of poultry rules here but since I'm not a chef...ignorance is bliss...and I don't care to "pound" my chicken into thin pieces which always results in microscopic chicken bits flying everywhere.

If using a cast iron skillet, put it on the stove over medium-high heat to begin heating up.

Brush both sides of your chicken pieces with olive oil and sprinkle generously with salt and pepper.

Turn your heat down to medium and lay your chicken pieces in the hot skillet. I know you're not supposed to "crowd the meat" but with this dish, my chicken pieces are usually quite snug with other pieces. However, if you want to be a rule follower you could always do this step in two batches. Allow your chicken to sear and brown for one minute on each side. Remove skillet from heat.

Carefully, pour your tomato sauce over the chicken. Sprinkle with the grated cheese to your liking and pop the whole thing in the oven for another 6-7 minutes or until the chicken is cooked through.

Pull it from the oven and serve with bread and applesauce on the side. Rice and bagged salad. Spaghetti and roasted asparagus. Whatever is easiest and gets the troops fed. Make your kids do the dishes. If you don't have any kids, find some neighbor kids.

Enjoy.

Yield: Dinner for a family of 4 and a kindergartner who doesn't eat much

...

Organizing Project
Does organizing the piles that have accumulated on the dining room table count?



All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2011

Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Mexican Soup...the Perfect Meal at the End of a Long Ride Down the Highway

On a highway. In the middle of Mt. Hood National Forest. Our car was in park. The engine off. And even though there was a line of cars behind us, as far as I could see, in the same predicament, it was strangely quiet. Dark. The snow gently falling all around us. Those big luscious feather-like flakes. I thought about how a little over 10 years ago I was parked here as well. Going the other direction. My 11-year old was a baby and we had just rung in the 2000 New Year. I was in a panic about whether to take him out of his car seat to nurse him. Never sure when the line of cars would start moving again. I sang Raffi songs for the hours we were parked on the highway to entertain his sister because that was back when I was even more of a glutton for punishment than I am now. Back when I thought children should not have electronic devices in the car but instead, should gaze out the window and let their imaginations run wild. As I looked at my three children, now, lit up by the glow of the movie they were watching...with headphones...in the quiet, quiet car, I thought, "Thank goodness, I came to my senses."

We were headed to Sunriver in Central Oregon. Our yearly destination for Thanksgiving. Nana and Papa, aunts and uncles and a gaggle of cousins were waiting for our arrival. But here we were, stopped on this oft-traveled highway. A highway that was a means to an end. A highway I'd traveled on my entire life. A highway that was like an old-time movie. Little bits of memory from my life flickered by in my mind as we made our way down the road. The spot I handed off the baton on my one and only Hood to Coast race. The little church in which I sang "One Hand, One Heart" at the bride's request. (Poor thing should have had me stick to just playing the piano.) The end of the Glade trail. Our back door way to get off the mountain from all-night New Year's Eve skiing. The turn-off for Timothy Lake where we survived the Dust Bowl '03 camping trip which rendered our children so covered in dirt, they looked like extras from the set of Grapes of Wrath.

A few hours later, a few more miles down the road, we're stopped again. I'm under the car dealing with chains and cursing myself for not taking the forecast for snow more seriously. My hands are covered in grease. I think of the times, as a teenager, I had to put chains on our Toyota and how often I had put them on the wrong tires....front instead of back. Or was it back instead of front? Not far from here was the road marker I somehow backed into and blew out the back window of our car in 100 degree weather. Not sure what to do about it in the middle of nowhere, I kept driving. The cat howling. The eldest children, preschoolers at the time, crying. My sweetie still raises an eyebrow no matter how many times I say to him, "Cross my heart, hope to die, I never saw a road marker. It came out of nowhere."

Moving again, we pass the turn-off for the short-cut into Maupin. Where I hit a rabbit. At 1 in the morning. In my '73 VW Bug. Back when my sweetie and I were newlyweds. I'm still sad about that rabbit.

On and on down the road we go, and on and on plays the grainy film of my life.

A week later, the 10 hour drive and Thanksgiving behind us, we strike out onto the highway again. Headed for home. This time we opt for the more southern pass but the same grainy movie plays as we drive. Sisters Coffee Company we stumbled upon last summer. Camping under the stars and fly-fishing in Camp Sherman back in college. Driving a golf cart around Black Butte Ranch back in high school. Wondering if that rope swing stills hangs there on the edge of Suttle Lake all these years later?

I felt as if I was in an old silent movie house as these little scenes played out. Only the sound of the clicking of the film, as it went round and round the reel, could be heard. It made me think that this is how life works. We keep driving down the highway and life happens. Scenes are filmed.

The snow gave way to rain signaling that we were almost home. We pull into our driveway, just in time for me to make dinner, and go inside. It takes me awhile to shake the feeling that I'd just left a dark movie house and stepped out into bright light. The film wound down. The clicks coming more and more slowly, as I pulled ingredients from the pantry to whip up a quick Tomato and Red Pepper soup. By the time I sat the bowls down, sprinkled with sharp cheddar, tortilla chips and cilantro, the movie was over. I was back to creating new scenes. Scenes that would eventually be sliced into the grainy film of my life played out again on some long, snowy drive down a highway.


Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Mexican Soup
Passed on to me by my sis

This recipe is so so fast. A great one to keep handy as you're getting ready for the holidays and don't have much time to cook. The salsa you decide to use can really change the flavor of this soup. The last time I made this soup, I found a tub of salsa in the back of my fridge crying to be used. It happened to be a fresh, medium salsa made by Whole Foods. Was perfect. I served it with some homemade guacamole and sliced pears because that's what I had in the house, but you could also whip up a little green salad or just serve it as is. For a vegetarian version, simply omit the chicken.

Ingredients:

2 tbsp olive oil
1 yellow onion, diced
4 cloves of garlic, minced
2 boxes (32 oz.) of Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup (I've found this at Trader Joe's and my local grocery store.)
1 can of corn or 1 small bag of frozen corn
2 c salsa
2 c (approx) chicken breasts, grilled, poached*, leftover from a roasted chicken OR 1 lg can of white chicken

Possible toppings:
grated, sharp cheddar cheese
tortillas strips or crushed tortilla chips
chopped cilantro

Directions:

Heat your olive oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot. Add your onions and garlic and saute for about 5-10 minutes or until your onions soften and start to become translucent. Pour in your roasted red pepper and tomato soup. Add your corn, salsa and chicken. Bring to a boil. Then, turn down the heat, simmer, serve.

Ladle into bowls and top with cheese, chips and cilantro, if you'd like. Enjoy.

*The last time I made this soup, I poached a couple of boneless skinless breasts and they were delicious in this soup. Basically, I sprinkled my chicken with salt and pepper and put them in a small pan. I covered them with some chicken stock that I needed to use up but you could use water or a combo of the two. Sprinkled in a teaspoon or so of Herbes de Provence. Tossed in a bay leaf. Put the lid on. Brought it to a boil. Then, lowered the heat and simmered with the lid on for 15 minutes. The chicken was cooking while I put together the rest of the soup. The timing came out perfectly.

Yield: One big pot-full


Conclusion to the Turkey Saga.....
In case you were curious about my turkey dilemma, I thought I would let you know that I survived. I ended up going my own route and had the turkey cut up into pieces before we left town. I gave it a salt rub the night before. Then, pulled it out of the fridge for 45 min before roasting. Rubbed it with butter, more salt and pepper. Surrounded it with herbs from my garden (rosemary, sage, Italian parsely, oregano) and garlic cloves still in their "paper". Then, put it in the oven at 425 degrees for an hour and a half. Smelled delicious and tasted delicious. The only thing I would do differently next time is check the temperature of the meat at about the one hour mark since the breast were done a little more than I prefer. All in all, I'd say it was a success. But, if I may be completely honest with you....here's what I learned through this entire process: Call me crazy but I don't even really like roasted turkey. Where's the grilled salmon? I just don't feel the turkey love.


Calendar Update....
My Etsy shop where you will be able to purchase the 2011 La Pomme de Portland calendar, should be up and running later today. I will send out an official announcement tomorrow. Thank you so much to those of you who have sent emails and so forth letting me know you'll be ordering one or two or...six. I am so excited about this project and the thought of helping out two great organizations. Cheers!



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

Pita Pizzas, Precarious Parenting and Pam

"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. 

Dad Cooks Dinner

RecipeGirl

Art of Gluten-Free Cooking

My Baking Addiction

Wenderly

The Sensitive Pantry

What's Cooking Blog

Two Peas and Their Pod

What's Gaby Cooking

bell' alimento

SmithBites

My Favorite Everything

Food for My Family

Savor the Thyme

The Ivory Hut

Dine and Dish

Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef

Picky Palate

Tickled Red

She Wears Many Hats

What We're Eating

This Week for Dinner

Sugar Crafter

Good Life Eats

Steamy Kitchen on TLC

Rookie Moms

Kitchen Gadget Girl

How To: Simplify

Bluebonnets & Brownies
Celiacs in the House

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

A Creamy Tomato Soup and Our Humanity

Chuckling to myself I typed these words into my phone, "Left home 4am. Arrived SFO 8am. BlogHer Food starts tomorrow. Had coffee. Now what?" And then, "Poof!", out into cyberspace went my note.

I looked up, almost to see if anyone had noticed what I had just done. I glanced over at the man playing the violin on the bench next to me. At the Daddies doting over their tiny baby. At the front door to Miette, "Open yet?" No one seemed to be aware of my ramblings. In this day and age of the uncharted territory of social media, this is often how I learn. By just pressing buttons, sending things out and seeing what comes back. And so, to all 43 of the thoughtful people who happened to "follow me" on Twitter, those are the words I tossed out.

Bare minutes had passed before a note appeared right back to me. "Come hang out with @goodlifeeats and I. :)" I was giddy. This was almost like finding a message in a bottle washed up on the sand.

I haven't been the new kid on the block for a long time. My sweetie and I have managed to stay put for 8 years now. Growing up, however, I was always the new kid. Due in part to my father's military career, to ever-changing school boundaries and to my dear parents' incessant need to change houses at least every 3 years. (18 moves and counting...for them.) Once again though, I was the new kid. Thanks to the generosity of Gina Rau over at Feed Our Families, I had a ticket to the sold-out BlogHer Food Conference in San Francisco and knew not a soul. That is, except for the extraordinarily thoughtful, Kristen Doyle from Dine and Dish. She and I had spent the past year admiring each other's photographs on Flickr but it was one of those "on-line" friendships. We had never met in person and yet, it was she who replied to my Twitter message.

Somehow I managed to hail down a cab in this quiet Hayes Street neighborhood I had chosen to enjoy my coffee in and hightailed it back to my hotel. My room was ready. Thrilled to have access this early (11 am), I turned around to head for the elevator only to find Kristin, waiting in line, right behind me. From that moment on, she brought me into the fold. I am eternally grateful.

The days and evenings that followed were a whirlwind. Sipping Beringer wine and chatting with the Deen Brothers. (Boy, they love their Mama!) Hearing Dorie Greenspan speak of her years working with Julia Child. Tasting the exquisitely creamy, almost velvety, tomato soup as prepared by Portland's own Chef Lisa, of Mother's Bistro, during the breaks. Chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate. Midnight Muni rides. A scavenger hunt at The Ferry Building. Trying to be a good sport by agreeing to wear the pig nose in the photo booth. Dining on crispy bacon dipped in chocolate. And the people I met. Oh, the people....

The atmosphere was truly, a frenzied love fest. A connection amongst people who have a strong commitment to food. However, underneath it all, I believe that it is a deep concern that motivates us to reach out to one another. To want each one of us to succeed. Whether we operate in a small corner of the world like me or we reach a huge audience like The Pioneer Woman. This almost franticness to help each other comes from, what I believe is, a profound knowledge that we are sick. We, as a society, are sick. We have lost our way with food. We can no longer find our way around a kitchen. We no longer bring people into our homes to share food. The amount of inspirational speaking I heard that weekend was extraordinary but probably no more so than the closing remarks by Michel Ruhlman. At the end, the emotion of what he had to say was so great, he had to stand up. "Cooking is what made us human. Cooking made us more social. We had to cooperate and divide labor. We had to come together. I think you write about this because in your heart you know, cooking is fundamental to our humanity."


Humanity, as defined by Webster's, "All human beings collectively. The quality of being humane; kindness; benevolence."

Sunday morning was a bit like the end of summer camp. Ready to go home but sad to leave my budding new friendships. I hopped into a cab bound for SFO with Ahmed and his son who had been in town visiting family. We exchanged pleasantries. Without a shred of an accent, Ahmed shared that he was raised in Egypt, "the birthplace of civilization." He then went on to tell me that French was his first language. "Perfect," I thought. "Beware thee that choose to entitle their website with a French phrase. Thou shalt be quizzed by native French speakers." And quiz me he did. I suppose I "passed" when he said to me, in French, that from now on when people ask me if I speak French, not to say (in French), "I can speak French, but it isn't pretty." but to say, "I do speak French but with a petite American accent." (Kindness prevailed in him not to call it a "grand" accent.)

However, truth be told, it's the final English words he spoke that resonate so strongly with me. I can't get them out of my mind. Before departing the cab, he turned to me and said, with great earnestness, "Language is our culture. Food is our humanity." And then, holding up his hand as if to wordlessly cut-off any argument, he paid for my cab fare as well as his and then he and his son were gone. And, in the suddenly quiet car, I was left to ponder...language and food. Kindness and humanity.



Creamy Tomato Soup

So I'm not even going to try and pass this off as Chef Lisa's tomato soup. To enjoy her exquisite concoction you'll have to visit her restaurant, Mother's Bistro or buy her new cookbook, Mother's Best. But this is what I happen to serve my family when I don't have a lot of time but want something "homemade." I serve it with toasted cheese sandwiches and sliced up apples on the side but if you were really short on time you could bag the toasted cheese sandwiches and just put out some bread, a hunk of cheese and a knife and tell everyone to go at it. I always double the recipe as it's perfect in a thermos for lunch the next day. You can also freeze it, if you are a freezing food kind of person.

Ingredients:
1 large onion diced (a cup or so)
2 tbsp olive oil
2 28-oz cans diced tomatoes
2 c chicken broth
1/2 tsp salt
1/8 - 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4 c sour cream
grated sharp cheddar cheese

In a heavy-bottomed skillet, heat your olive oil. Add your diced onions and sauté for 6-8 minutes or until onions are softened and translucent.

Add in your tomatoes (plus their juices), chicken broth, salt, and cayenne pepper. Bring to a boil and then, reduce heat and let simmer about 20 minutes.

At this point I usually pull out my 18-year old hand-held immersion blender, and "pureé" my soup a bit. If I'm running short on time, I don't do this and just leave it fairly "rustic."  It's up to you. Although, if you don't have an immersion blender, you must go and get yourself one. They are the best. Especially if you're like me and have a phobia about cleaning food processors except in extreme situations.

Once that is done (or not), whisk in your sour cream until...well, creamy.

Spoon into bowls and top with the grated cheese. Enjoy!

Yield: A big pot full.


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

Sometimes All You Need is 'Jambon et Fromage'

Yes, I heard what the weatherman...uh...weatherperson said. That we have sun on the way but I can hardly believe it. All I am seeing are those gray, oppressive clouds that render me sleepy, sleepy, sleepy. I know what I said back here about winter being peaceful and restorative but I think I must have been having a zen moment that day....that one day. Besides feeling sleepy, I feel out of sync and a bit frazzled. You see, my friend, everything that I put off from Halloween to New Year's back when we were filled with holiday cheer and decking the halls and ho, ho, ho...well, all of that back-log has landed squarely on my dining room table desk and I find myself just staring at it hoping it will go away but it doesn't. No. And, it even has the audacity to continue to grow. Gads...

When I feel like this...that peculiar combination of sleepy and frazzled all at once...I lack focus and I find myself uninspired. Not even food...my trusty companion...who I always can count on to pull me out of my sluggishness...to provide me with some spark of inspiration or a flicker of motivation...is helping me out.

My daughter and I had quietly made our way across the city in the early morning weekend hours last Saturday. Yes, it was pouring down rain. I actually had to open an umbrella when I ran out of the car to get myself a much needed latte. (Here in Oregon, in case you don't live here and are wondering, even though it rains continually, we don't use an umbrella most of the time. We just get used to being a little bit damp all of the time. It's only during a downpour that we actually pop one up.) The sky was gray. Gray as in...um...cement. (Wow...that was original.) I was sleepy and truth be told, a little grumpy, for no apparent reason. After making sure she was properly settled in, I left my darling daughter at the edge of the city to dance her heart away for the next 48 hours, while I crept back towards home. My only, single, thought during that return trip was the fact that when I arrived home, 3 ravenous male persons would be waiting for me.

I made a bit of a detour and turned into one of my most favorite grocery stores (the Burnside location in particular.) Even if you don't actually buy anything in this store, it's such a treat just to go in there and "window shop". The food is laid out so beautifully. One can't help but feel a rush of excitement at the prospect of preparing food for one's family. I headed straight to the already prepared food since I was feeling none of the aforementioned excitement. I figured I'd grab the boys a few sandwiches and call it good. I stared at the sandwiches in the case. The same sandwiches that I had happily devoured many times before. They seemed to be smaller than I remember. They appeared to measure, maybe, 3 inches of baguette length...all for the price of 5 buckaroos. In my grumpy-gills state of mind, I thought, "That's ridiculous. They don't even have lettuce on there and besides, when I've had those before, the balance of flavors has all been off. There was no proper ingredient ratio. I'm making these myself." And, with that, I huffed off to gather the ingredients.

I ordered up a 1/2 pound of sliced, french ham. Yes, that's what it's called folks...french ham. And, I believe this to be the perfect, sandwich ham. Not too salty. Not too sweet. Just....ham. Leaving the deli counter, I grabbed some gruyere cheese and then, scooped up a baguette, fresh from Ken's Artisan Bakery. In my humble opinion, Ken's makes the best baguette for sandwiches in our dear city. That perfect crispy crust to chewy interior ratio. (Have you noticed that I have a thing for proper flavor ratios?) (By the way...Pearl Bakery and Lovejoy Bakers, make a close second...in my opinion, that is.)

Arriving home, I unloaded my supplies, and without much thought, set about making the 'Jambon et Fromage' sandwiches. I sliced up the baguette which released it's heavenly aroma of freshly baked bread. A thin layer of mayonnaise on one side and thin layer of delicatessen mustard on the other. A couple slices of ham and a couple of cheese. A crack of the pepper mill and a handful of baby greens. All set on a plate with a pickle. "Luuunnnnchhhhhh, is ready!!!!!!!" And, with that I turned back around to clean up the bread crumbs that were scattered across the counter and cutting board.

I heard the thumping of feet and the scraping of the chair legs as the boys settled in to eat. In my sleepiness, I continued with my cleaning. Not paying much heed to those eating away. But, then, after a minute or two, a cry, broke through the fogginess brain. "Oh, my gosh, Mom!!! Mom!!! This is the BEST sandwich I have EVER had!!! I LOVE it!!! I want this in my lunch for school. You HAVE to tell everyone on your blog about it!!" There, was my 10-year old, with excitement brimming in his eyes, scarfing down his sandwich while trying to express his love for it at the same time. His cheeks were flushed as he stood there...one foot on his chair, one foot on the ground (yes, we're still working on sitting while eating)...and he looked positively delighted with this simple bit of nourishment.

I realized later that it was his enthusiasm that managed to kick me out of my funk. To feel a rush of enthusiasm, no matter the weather, over something as seemingly, insignificant as a ham and cheese sandwich, was just what I needed. I've continued to make these same sandwiches all week long, hoping to further pull me out of my grogginess and into a state of excitement. I'm not quite there but these sandwiches are definitely helping.

A 'Jambon et Fromage' Sandwich

The handful of times I have been fortunate enough to actually eat french ham in France, I have found that ham to be superior to any I've ever had. There's something about its freshness. It doesn't taste as if it's been pumped up with other flavors...just a mild, delicate taste about it. Yes, it does cost about $1 more a pound than regular ham but you really don't need much so in the end we're talking about a few pennies more. As for the gruyere, you could substitute swiss cheese, but it definitely has a stronger taste and then, if you're me, you'll find the ratio of flavors is all off. Make sure you seek out the best baguette your city or town offers. And, here's a little tip, if you're like me and don't have a boulangerie within walking distance of your front door: Baguettes are always best when eaten the same day they've been made but that isn't always realistic for me since I tend to buy them and then want to use them in my children's lunches the following days. So, bring your baguette home. Cut it in 4 or 5 inch sections and then halve those sections. Pop the pieces in a ziploc bag and put them in the freezer. Then, when you are making a sandwiches in the morning to be consumed later in the day, prepare the sandwich directly on the frozen bread. It will defrost while it's in the lunchbox and when you (or he or she) go to eat it....voila...the bread is defrosted and tastes as fresh as the day you bought it...well, almost.

Ingredients:

sliced, french ham (Madrange ham is the kind I buy locally.)

thinly, sliced gruyere cheese (If you live near a Trader Joe's, they carry a delicious variety of gruyere.)

mayonnaise (Best Foods...what else?)

delicatessen style mustard (I love Boar's Head.)

freshly, ground black pepper

a handful of baby greens (or for the kids, some romaine)

Ken's Artisan Bakery baguette or the best baguette you can find, freshly baked

Cut your baguette into sections, 4, 5, 6 inches depending on how hungry you are. Slice those sections in half. Spread a bit of mayonnaise on one side and a bit of mustard on the other....go easy on the mustard though. You don't want it to overpower the other flavors. Gently lay down a couple slices of ham. A few slices of cheese...like the mustard, go easy on the cheese. It also has a very strong flavor. Crack the pepper mill a few times over the ham and cheese and if you must, you can sprinkle a pinch of salt as well. Grab a handful of baby greens and tuck them in as you put the "top" on the sandwich. Add a pickle on the side. Enjoy.

PS: BTW...(yes, I know I'm talking in "teen text speak" but....btw....) I wanted to let you know, my dear friends, that I won't be posting my pictures for my Project 365 on La Pomme any longer but should you be curious how that "What was I thinking?" little project is going, please feel free to click on the "Flickr badge" at any time, located on the lower right hand side of this page. Once there, click on the photo set entitled, "2010 at a Glance" and it will take you right to that growing bunch of photos.

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

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