Peas and Carrots, Carrots and Peas Spring Soup

I sit here in the shadows just out of sight like my mother did before me. There but not there. Still needed but not seen.

Watching you with your friends. Linking hands with these friends as you jump unabashedly into the water. Holding handstand competitions.

Saddling up to these friends on the chair lift. Laughing and singing and bumping each other before the ride is over and you're off down the slopes again.

Watching you from the kitchen window as you ride your bike...still with training wheels...down the street. Dragging your feet to slow you down as the pavement dips a little. Around the neighbor's driveway and then confidently back up the street.

You glance at the kitchen window hoping I'm there. I am. You give me a nod, a smile and you're off again.

Standing near you as you chop your carrots, your leeks, your potatoes. Teaching you but not watching you as you put your vegetables into the pot. Pour in the stock. Stir it around. Smelling your creation. Feeling a wave of confidence as those first tantalizing smells waft up toward you.

Laughing with you as you question my dinner-making music, "Oh no, Mom. Is this Norah Jones again?"

Sitting near you at the table as we toast you...the chef.

And I know you won't remember that I was there.

You'll remember that you swam and you skiied, you rode your bike and you cooked but you won't remember that I was sitting there off to the side...just like my mother did for me.

But someday when you're a parent you'll do the same thing.

Watching from the shadows as your children grow up.

Peas and Carrots, Carrots and Peas Spring Soup
I have spent the past month making pea soup in all various forms. I think you know by now that I have a soup fetish. Can't help it. Besides being "delicious and nutritious" it makes for easy clean-up...one pot...and it sits so nicely on the stove over low heat waiting for family members to come home at various times, ladle it up without any help from me and taste its glory.  Now, while my daughter and myself enjoyed all the different pea soups that I concocted (we're easy to please seeing as there's not much we don't like) and the Rooster and my littlest one at least finished their bowls,  I couldn't get a pea soup past the 11-year old. So, I employed the old "They tend to eat what they make" trick and dragged him into the kitchen with me. Here's what we came up with....which he devoured with flourish.

Ingredients
2 tbsp olive oil
2 leeks, chopped (white and light green parts only)
2 med/large carrots, peeled and diced
couple pinches of kosher salt (1/2 tsp each)
few cracks of black pepper
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
2 qts chicken broth
1 tsp Herbes de Provence (Italian seasoning will work too.)
4 medium potatoes, thin or thick skinned, cubed. If thick skinned, make sure to peel them.
a bit of parmesan cheese rind (If you don't have this, not to worry, just skip it.)
2 c fresh or frozen peas

Optional toppings
5 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled
Chopped chives, basil, Italian parsley or any other fresh herb you enjoy
Grated parmesan cheese


Directions
In a heavy-bottomed soup pot, heat your olive oil. Add in your chopped leeks, the pinch of salt and cracks of black pepper. Give it a stir and begin to sauté on low heat. Peel and dice up your carrots then add them to the pot. Give it another stir and sauté the whole works for about 5-8 minutes or until the leeks and carrots are beginning to soften.

Add in your garlic. Give them a whirl and sauté for another minute or so.

Pour in your chicken broth. Sprinkle in your herbs. Plop in your potatoes. Add another pinch of salt and couple of cracks of black pepper. Stir. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for about 20 minutes (or until your potatoes are softened) with the lid askew.

If using frozen peas, add them in when the potatoes have been cooking for 10 minutes. If using fresh peas, add them in when the potatoes have been cooking for 15 minutes.

Set out the delicious toppings and let your family, your guests, yourself spoon the fragrant spring soup into bowls and sprinkle on the toppings like it's an ice cream sundae bar.

I put out a crusty loaf of bread, a ramekin full of Goat Cheese Love, some sliced up Opal apples and called it dinner.

Enjoy....

Yield: One big pot-full

PS: A little note about the peas. I know that some of you...even some of my dearest, closest friends...do not like peas. I cannot understand this as I can't get enough of them but if you are the type who does not care for the little green orbs this soup is still delicious without them. Just leave them out. You could toss in a handful of orzo pasta the last 10 minutes of cooking instead...or not.


Peas, Peas and More Peas, Please
More pea recipes here on La Pomme de Portland... Peas and Pancetta, Spring Birthday Soup
A round up of kid-friendly Pea Recipes over on Babble. Personally, I'm looking forward to trying the Spring Pea & Parmesan Risotto recipe.
And lo and behold a Spring Sweet Pea and Asparagus Pickling recipe from White On Rice Couple.


Can't get enough of....
Katie Quinn Davies food photography. Check out these beautiful spring photos the Irish lass livin' Down Under took for Martha Stewart Living.


Speaking of Peas and Carrots
Love these particular Peas and Carrots from Williams-Sonoma.


The Organizing Project
Wonder of wonders, miracles of miracles!! I have officially finished organizing the legos, the toy closet and the under-the-stairs closet. It only took me 3 months but hey, I did it!! I cannot tell you how amazing this feels. I thought I would share a few before and after photos for your viewing pleasure.

BEFORE

AFTER

Next up, the 6-year old's closet and dress-up drawer. (BTW, he's no longer the 5-year old since we celebrated his birthday over spring break. So bittersweet....)



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

Tiny Bits of Hope Wrapped Up in Goat Cheese Love

Yes, it's absolutely true that it rains here. I mean really rains. As in November through May you can expect a 50% chance rain on any given day which is most days. Half the year. Half the year with gray skies, wet shoes and saturated, moss-filled lawns.

There's a large percentage of us who welcome the start of the rainy season in the fall. We're ready to head inside. To have some quiet time of introspection. To pull out wool scarves, down jackets and rain boots. To make soups, pots of chili and braised meats. I am one of those people. As a matter of fact, being a native of this wet world, if I go too long without rain I start to get itchy.

Of course, fall leads into winter which is welcoming in its own stark way. A lack of clutter. A time to clean our mental house. To take blank sheets of paper and write out our goals, our dreams, our hopes for the new year.

Which brings us up to the last moments of winter, just days from the start of spring. Those days when I know we still have at least 3 1/2 more months of rain but when I am ready to have this heaviness lifted from my mind. To see my family in bright, clear detail as opposed to dim, hazy light. To trade in the movies on the couch for bike rides along the river. To retire the soup pot and fire up the grill. To see the outside world decorated in something other than neutrals.

And just when I can't take the gray and rain one more day and feel like I'm going to start scratching the ceiling....

The days grow longer. And while not sunlight per se, it is light...later. And that light bekons me outside where I welcome the chance to do even that never-ending chore of weeding...in-between rain showers.

And while I'm outside I start to look around and notice that there are little bits of color waiting to be found.

Little nubs on trees.

New shoots poking their way past rain soaked leaves.

Chives that have filled in with their long, slender green leaves. Leaves that are just waiting for me to snip and use in a recipe.

And overnight it seems, those lovely daffodils raise the curtain on their spring spectacle. The viewing of which does wonders to lift the spirits.

And even though these are all but tiny hints of what's to come, they help. Somehow the gray sky doesn't seem nearly as oppressive. The rain not nearly so inconvenient since the air is warm(er). The mind somehow less foggy.

And it is my dearest hope that all of the people in Japan who have lost so much after the terrible wreckage and destruction of the earthquake and tsunami may start to see tiny hints of hope. Fragments of color. Something, anything, that can help to lift the extraordinary sense of loss and despondency they must surely be feeling.

Hints of Hope
Here are some folks trying to help out. Trying to send a tiny hint of hope to our friends across the ocean.

Portland's own Wieden+Kennedy designed a print to raise relief funds. The first run of posters already sold out but a second one is in the works. Click here to see their lovely creation.

Here is another beautiful print designed by Los Angeles artist, Nan Lawson, to raise relief funds for Japan as well.

...

Tiny Bits of Chive All Wrapped Up in Goat Cheese Love
I cannot get enough of this goat cheese spread. I make it year-round with whatever kind of fresh herbs are available in my garden. For the past few months I've been using rosemary...that winter-hardy herb...but I'm delighted that I can give good ole rosemary a rest and snip some fresh chives. In the summer, I love to use basil. Of course, you could use a medley of any of your favorite herbs. My daughter and the 5-year old love this spread as well and are always thrilled to find it set out on the table along with some flatbread crackers, dry salami and cucumber slices. My 3-year old nephew will inhale an entire 8 oz portion of this spread if left alone with the bowl. Needless to say, it's a winner, unless of course, you don't like goat cheese but then I can't really help you out. Sorry...

Ingredients
8 oz plain goat cheese, softened
3 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 tbsp fresh herbs, chopped: rosemary, basil, chives, oregano, thyme or any combination of these

Directions
In a small saucepan, heat your olive oil over medium-low heat. Add your garlic cloves and let "simmer" for about 3-5 minutes or until the garlic is soft and fragrant but not brown, stirring often. Careful not to burn your garlic. Turn down your heat if necessary.

If I'm using rosemary, I usually add it in with the garlic cloves and let it simmer as well to help mellow its flavors. You can also do this with any of the other herbs. 


Once the garlic has finished cooking, remove the pan from the heat and allow the oil to cool to room temperature. After that, remove the garlic from the pan either by straining it or doing like I do and just picking it out with a fork. (Goodness knows, I don't want to have to clean a strainer.)


Put your goat cheese in a medium bowl. Add in 1-2 tbsp of the garlic infused olive oil. I usually add in 1 tbsp and taste it and then add more as I desire. Using the same fork I used to pick out the garlic, I stir up my cheese and oil. Then, I add in my fresh chives and gently stir to evenly combine.

Spoon your delicious spread into a lovely bowl. Top with a few sprigs of the herb you used. Set out with some crackers, cucumber slices and dry salami and Voìla!...an appetizer to impress. (Although I've been known to eat it out of the container, standing at the counter, with no one to impress but myself and it's still good.)

Enjoy.....

...


AM Northwest
Spent Wednesday morning down at AM Northwest as part of their Pacific Disaster Relief fundraiser. I was on hand to talk about what you should have in your pantry.


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St. Patrick's Day
In case you're looking for a little inspiration for St. Patrick's Day reveling, here are a couple sites to check out:

One of my absolute favs, They Draw & Cook, has a collection of 6 recipes for a Happy St. Patrick's Day currently on their home page.

Something I'd never hear of before...Colcannon....a classic Irish potato dish you'll find over at Food for my Family.

Some Lucky Green Velvet Baby Cakes that Jenny has whipped up over at Picky Palate.

My sweet friend, Katie, has some Honey Marmalade Mustard Glazed Corned Beef over at GoodLifeEats. My stomach is growling just looking at the pictures.

And this recipe over by Aran over at Cannelle et Vanille isn't "Irish" per se but I thought all of the lovely greens help set the tone for ye olde leprechaun holiday.

...

Organization Project
Moved bags to be donated from entry-way to hall-closet alcove. People kept tripping over them.

...

PS:
I'll be back in two weeks. Spending some quality time with the family during spring break......
Cheers!



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

Sauntering Through the Market with a Basket of Rapini, Potatoes and Chives

As usual, I was running late. Nothing new there but my tardiness was extra awkward (even for me) considering that I was trying to slip, unnoticed, into a pew in the hushed room of The Old Church for the monthly Willamette Writers meeting. This month's speaker had already begun her talk as I tried to make myself invisible. Once seated it took me a minute to calm my thoughts enough to focus on the speaker, Naseem Rakha, but once I did, she had my complete concentration as she discussed her newly released book, The Crying Tree. And while I took away so many nuggets of wisdom from this clearly talented woman, I really seemed to take hold of what would appear to be a seemingly insignificant story that she shared. She had recently been on vacation in Florida with her son and she admitted to us that while she believed the "correct" thing to say would be that her favorite part of the trip was playing in the ocean with her son...that wasn't the case. No. Her favorite part of the trip was the time she was alone in Ernest Hemingway's garden. Alone with her thoughts. Alone enough to focus and to remember what it was she wanted to focus her life on.

The Portland Farmer's Market opened a few weeks ago. I didn't make it to Opening Day, although I hear it was quite the success. Jam-packed with people even with the extra block added this year for more space. Vendors selling out of that day's produce. I did, however, make it a few weekends later. As usual, I invited the family to come but, as was oftentimes the case, they kindly declined. I probably should say I was disappointed but I wasn't. I like going there by myself. I love to lose myself in the crowd under that great canopy of trees. To saunter up to my favorite coffee bar. To then make the circle once, coffee in hand, browsing and making mental notes. To pick up a cookie along the way....this time from The Tart Lady. To enjoy the festive music in the background. To take in just what was being offered. What was in season. And, then to go back and circle again.

Recently someone asked of me, "Where do you get your ideas for cooking? Where do you get your inspiration?" I replied that due to my strong love affair with food, I, of course, read a lot of cookbooks and food blogs. I call friends and ask them what they're cooking that night. I occasionally tune into cooking shows. However, my biggest source of inspiration is my farmer's market or those grocery stores that cater to local produce. While I used to find the recipe I liked and then go hunt for the ingredients, now I let the natural rhythms of the growing season be my guide. I buy what's in season and then, I go find the recipe. This method also helps narrow down the choices of recipes making the whole process of cooking and feeding my family a lot less overwhelming.

Before arriving at the farmer's market that day, I had in my mind a bit of an idea of what would be good for dinner that night. I was hoping to find the ingredients for a delicious and light, pasta primavera I enjoy making this time of year. I thought for sure there would be spring asparagus on display everywhere. But alas, there was not. What was on display, and what is clearly still in season here in Oregon, were winter greens. Winter greens, leeks, potatoes, baby carrots, chives and rapini (broccoli rabe.) I had to chuckle that back here when I was trying to make this dish that called for rapini, I couldn't find a single stalk, and now here it was aplenty. So, without anyone asking me when were we leaving or needing a bathroom or what could they have to eat or getting lost in the crowd and sending me into panic mode, I sat down. I sat down, alone with my coffee and my "breakfast" cookie (nevermind that it was chocolate chip) and readjusted my thoughts. What was I going to make with leeks, potates, chives and rapini? And then, the ideas started flowing. I raced around and grabbed my produce, throwing in a baguette, some pesto and a couple bunches of daffodils to round it all out and headed home. While driving home, I pulled out my cell phone and called my parents I responsibly pulled over to the side of the road and called my parents from my cell phone. They were passing through town that evening and I wanted to encourage them to stop by for dinner. To stop by for dinner and the result of my inspiration. The result of my solitary trip to the farmer's market.

The Recipes

So, today, you're going to get two recipes for the price of one blog post. (Corny...I know.) From time to time, I pop into the blog, Simply Breakfast. Her photographs are always so beautiful and although, I'm not much of a breakfast gal, I keep thinking maybe her simple meals will inspire me and recently she had posted that she couldn't get enough of garlicky greens with scrambled eggs. Well, I could do without the scrambled eggs but the garlicky greens struck a bell and that's how I arrived at the following recipe that I served up for dinner to my parents and my family along with some chicken sausages I grilled on the barbecue. (Note: If you happen to be a patron of the Portland Farmer's Market, I purchased my rapini at DeNoble's Family Farm booth. So tender and delicious.)

Sauteed Rapini (Broccoli Rabe) with Spaghetti and Grilled Sausages

Inspired by fresh air

2 tbsp olive oil

4 cloves of garlic, sliced lengthwise

2 large bunches of rapini, coarsely chopped, discarding any tough ends

1 tsp kosher salt

1/4 black pepper

1/2 pound whole wheat spaghetti, cooked as directed on the package

Heat your olive oil in a non-stick saute pan. Add your garlic and saute just about one minute then, immediately add your rapini. It will seem like a lot, but like spinach, it will reduce in size by at least half once it is cooked. Saute about 4 to 5 minutes, until just tender. Scrape all of the contents from the pan (including the now garlic infused olive oil) over the spaghetti and toss gently to combine. Check to see if it needs additional salt and pepper. Serve alongside grilled sausages. Doesn't get much easier or quicker than this. This recipe can easily be doubled.

A Dinner Frittata Complete with Potatoes, Bacon and Chives

I was looking for a way to use my potatoes and chives so I pulled from the shelf one of my favorite cookbooks of all times, "How to Cook Without a Book" by Pam Anderson. This is the perfect book for those of us who feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of recipe options when all we really want to do is get a quick, healthy and delicious dinner on the table for our families. I bought it when my two eldest were leaving the baby food stage and I realized that fish sticks and peas every night just wasn't going to cut it any longer. I have been intrigued by her dinner frittata section for quite some time (despite the fact that I'm not always that intrigued with egg dishes.) I flipped to that section, made a few of my own changes and came up with this recipe. I served it with a simple salad of baby greens and vinaigrette and a bowl of "cuties"...those delicious little sweet clementines in season right now. Those same cuties with the sticker that my daughter and her friends would feel compelled to pull off the rind and stick on their foreheads last year when they were much younger.

2 tbsp olive oil (divided)

3 slices, thick-cut bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces

3 small, Yukon gold potatoes (or other thin-skinned spring potatoes), unpeeled and 1/2 inch diced

kosher salt and ground black pepper

1 medium garlic clove, minced

8 large eggs

4 tbsp milk

3 tbsp grated parmesan cheese

1 tbsp fresh chopped chives

Adjust your rack to the upper-middle position and preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

Heat 1 tbsp olive oil in a large non-stick, ovenproof skillet over medium heat. Add your bacon and cook for about 5 minutes until the bacon is browned but not too crisp. Drain your bacon on a paper towel and set aside. Wipe the pan clean with another paper towel and heat your second tablespoon of olive oil, unless you like to cook with bacon grease, in which case, remove the bacon with a slotted spoon, do not add the second tablespoon of olive oil and continue with the recipe.

Add your potatoes to the skillet along with the olive oil (bacon grease), 3 tbsp water, the garlic and then, sprinkle with salt and pepper. Set your heat to medium-high, cover and let the potatoes steam for about 3 minutes or until the potatoes are just tender. Remove the lid and continue to cook until the water evaporates and the potatoes are lightly browned, about 8-10 minutes more. Toss occasionally to ensure even browning.

Meanwhile, in a medium bowl beat the eggs, milk, parmesan cheese and a pinch of salt and pepper together with a fork. Once the potatoes are done, shake the skillet to evenly distribute them. Evenly sprinkle your bacon on the potatoes and then, pour in your egg mixture. Sprinkle the chives over the top and then, let the egg mixture cook just until the edges start to set around the edges about 1 minute. Transfer the pan to the oven and bake until the eggs are puffed and set about 8 minutes. Serve hot, sliced like a pizza and enjoy.

One word of caution: Do not under any circumstances forget that once your skillet is out of the oven, the handle is still registering at about 350 degrees and grabbing it bare-handed will result in second degree burns. Not that I know that from personal experience or anything, but if I did know that from personal experience, I will tell you that expletives that a young child should never hear will come spewing out over and over from the mouth of his injured parent creating a bit of awkwardness once the moment has passed.

Variation: I did make this frittata one evening, substituting sauteed rapini for the bacon. For the sake of honesty, I will tell you that my daughter and I quite enjoyed it but the boys...young and old...they just couldn't get past the greenery in their eggs, although they greedily ate the greenery just fine the week before when it was tossed with the pasta. So, there you have it.

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

Herbes de Provence Goat Cheese Spread

We are of the opinion, our household that is, that the tooth fairy is an unreliable, flighty little thing. That she is prone to wild mood swings and is picky. Picky, picky, picky. Our dear children, having just survived another round of the molting process, bless their hearts, will wrap their precious little gift, carefully, ever so carefully, in a tissue. I then instruct them to place the tiny object into an envelope, carefully, which they will then seal and place under their pillows to await the arrival of the tooth fairy. More often than not, come morning, their little eyes will be filled with tears instead of joy. The tooth fairy did not come.

Just as disappointed as they are, I shrug and say, “Maybe she doesn’t do envelopes anymore. That’s what I did when I was your age but maybe now, she prefers the box.” “Which box?” “You know. The special little box that holds teeth?” So, into the box the wee bit of ivory goes. And, believe it or not, come morning, there are times when she even snubs the box. To my children’s questioning gaze, I sigh, strike the thinker pose and pause, before exclaiming, “Ah ha! Maybe you just have to leave it out in plain view. Otherwise she can’t…she can’t sniff it out. Her sniffer doesn’t seem to be working.” At which point, they become suspicious.

Say what you will about the tooth fairy, there is; however, one area in which she can be consistently relied on. If her prize is a molar, the payment to the child is always, a Susan B. Anthony dollar. Now, as the child races down the stairs to show me her reward, I brace myself in anxiety-fraught anticipation. You see, to steal a quote from a dear friend, "I should have been born Catholic I have so much guilt." And, as the child opens her sweaty palm to show me the warm coin, I have to force myself not to recoil. Not to recoil away from that face. The face with the look of disappointment on it. The stern, Susan B. Anthony face that seems to say to me, “What are you doing to further my cause? My life’s work? What? What I ask you?!” I quickly fold up the child’s hand, pat her on the head and say, “Good job, now why don’t you go put that somewhere safe.”

I have often pondered what it is I’m doing. What I’m actually doing to further the cause of women put in motion over a hundred years ago. My mood swings between the elation of being alive, at this point in history, where women enjoy freedoms not even conceivable hundreds of years ago and the despondency I feel when I hear the latest report of tragedies incurred by women around the world. And, just when I feel that bit of panic rise up my throat, that feeling of “What can I, one person, possibly do?” I turn on Pink Martini’s Una Notte a Napoli, pour myself a glass of my favorite “cab of the moment,” and start chopping. Something. Anything. Today it’s the herbs gone wild in my garden’s last push of the season that I’m using to liven up an Herbes de Provence goat cheese spread that is irresistible.

My chopping tool of choice today is a beautiful, perfectly sharpened, Wüsthof chef’s knife. The prized possession of my 10-year old son. Perhaps the sole reason, he skipped out the door without a single complaint the entire week of his summer cooking camp. He knew that for a week’s worth of work, he would come home with the King of Cooking Tools. The tool to trump all others. The tool for which, using his Birthday money, he purchased a locking case and into which he carefully and ever so deliberately placed his prize and had to really think about whether it would be okay for me to borrow it from time to time.

On the other hand, another possible explanation for why he didn’t complain is he’s always known that when he turned the correct age, he too would begin to go to cooking camp each summer, just like his sister before him and his baby brother behind him. Because, perhaps, furthering the cause of women is less about how I raise my daughter and more about how I raise my sons. Perhaps. Perhaps, not.

Do you think, dear friend, that if I can teach my sons to nourish themselves, to have an appreciation for the preparation of a meal, to gaze out at their yard and recognize it as the support-system from which they too can harvest herbs, tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, then, maybe, just maybe, they will treat their yard, the earth, the soil a little more tenderly? Maybe they will be a little more deliberate when deciding what to put in their mouths? Maybe, just maybe, they will know the feeling of satisfaction that comes from making and sharing a meal? Of nourishing themselves and their families?

I must admit that not much cooking has gone on since the completion of his camp but occasionally, like today, he will pass through the kitchen when he sees me chopping and say, “Hey, Mom. Do you want me to do that? I really like to chop.” And, once I pass the knife over, he’ll instruct me by saying, “Now, Mom, you’re really supposed to hold the knife like this. See? With this finger like this.” I’ll try not to smile and simply be grateful that a tiny, little seed has been planted. I can’t know if it will grow but I’m just glad it’s there. And, maybe the next time I see Susan B. Anthony’s face, I’ll realize that it’s not a look of disappointment but the very real fact, that nobody but nobody smiled in pictures back then. That’s it. Plain and simple.

Herbes de Provence Goat Cheese Spread

(Adapted from Herbed Goat-Cheese Toasts, Epicurious)

6 oz. mild goat cheese, room temp

¼ c chopped, mixed herbs – oregano, basil, rosemary & thyme – heavier on the first two, lighter on the second two

1 1/2 tbls minced chives OR minced shallot

½ tsp black pepper OR to taste

a pinch of salt

1/3 c well-chilled heavy cream OR for a tangier version, ¼ c plain, yogurt

Stir together first 5 ingredients. In a separate bowl, beat the cream with a whisk until it just holds soft peaks, then fold into cheese mixture. If using yogurt, add it once the first 5 ingredients have been mixed-together. Enjoy immediately or let the flavors mingle for a day. Delicious.

“What do I do with this?” you ask, my friend. I keep mine in a little glass container in the fridge that I can serve it from whenever the moment arises. At times, I’ll set it out with our favorite seeded flatbread crackers and sliced pears as an after-school snack. Or, the other night, I set it out with sliced bread as an accompaniment to pre-made spinach & cheese raviolis topped with Dave’s Gourmet Red Heirloom Pasta Sauce, which is currently at Costco and I can’t say enough good things about it. Or, use it as a spread on my aforementioned, Heirloom Tomato Sandwich.

Whatever you do, though, take it out of the fridge at least, 20-30 minutes before you serve it. The other day I plopped it down for some friends straight from the fridge and then had to painfully watch as they politely tried to stab at it and awkwardly tried to “spread” it on their crackers without breaking them. I heeded Julia Child’s advice and did not apologize for the mistake but I had to avert my eyes from the rather uncomfortable situation.

PS: My favorite “cab” of the moment is a cheapie. Black Mountain Vineyard (Fat Cat) Cabernet Sauvignon which you can find at Trader Joe’s for $6.99 a bottle. Definitely let it breathe before drinking. And, if you happen to stash one in the back of your attic, improperly stored for say, 9 years, can I tell you that upon finding it and drinking it you will be treated to a most exquisite glass of cabernet sauvignon. Try it and let me know if you agree.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009