A Bowl of Potato Corn Chowder and Pondering What Not to Wear

I had known about this trip for months. Five months to be exact. Five months to pack, go to the grocery store, make carpool arrangements, buy Birthday presents. Five months to figure out why the fan on my laptop runs continuously when I use it. But here it was t-minus three days and I had yet to do any of that.

In an effort to solve the laptop problem, I decided that I needed to remove photos off the hard drive. Which lead me to an investigation of where certain photo files were before I started the deletion process. Since I have photos backed up to two external hard drives, a few random thumb drives and the hard drives of a laptop and a desktop, it's sometimes difficult to know just where I put those bloomin' files.

Before long, I was overwhelmed by the investigation and instead found myself identifying "4923 unknown faces" in iPhoto's faces feature...3 at a time. This lead to a form of motion sickness and I turned the job over to the 6-year-old who can now read and gets joy from mouse clicks.

As I gave up my chair to my young child and turned to go, the stacks, bags and boxes of "printed" photos caught my eye. Maybe there were hard copies of the missing files? And before I could stop myself, I was immersed in the mission of sorting through and organizing TEN years worth of photos. For TEN YEARS many of these photos had been sitting in non-descript bags without thought and yet here, three days before leaving my family to go across the country on a trip that has NOTHING to do with those photos, I suddenly found an urgent calling to organize them. (Let's just say, it was a 2 a.m.-er.)

The next morning, sleep-deprived and in a complete fog, I dragged myself to our local "caffeinating-hole," where I confessed my lunacy to two friends. They empathized. They had "been there, done that." But why? Why do we feel the need to organize the spice drawer, clean out the pantry, scrub the fridge with a toothbrush or organize 10-years worth of photos right before we leave on a trip?

Nesting...we decided. We want our nest in order before we leave.

And so, across the country and back again I went.* And when I returned, I hugged my sweet chickens, kissed the Rooster and heaved a sigh of relief. Glad to be home safely. Back in my nest.

Once the homecoming festivities had quieted down, I warmed up a bowl of leftover Potato Corn Chowder, (Goodness knows I didn't eat on the plane.)(Seriously? They can't even afford a bag of pretzels??) snuck into my little office and admired the shelf of newly labeled photo boxes.

Between each bite of my creamy, herbed soup, I flipped through the boxes, smiling, making note of the passing years and some lessons to be learned from them.

Of course, the biggest lesson of all is: Childhood goes fast. A blink of an eye.

Even though I feel like this was yesterday, the little girl here will be headed to high school in the fall. The little boy...middle school. And the toothy baby, a grown-up first grader. (Sigh....)

A close second to the above lesson is: Be careful what you wear and how you actually allow yourself to be photographed. These decisions can come back to haunt you. Let me give you a few examples of this so you may be spared my pain.

Let this be a warning to all of you first-time pregnant Mama's in your third trimester who feel frumpy and thick and want to cut your hair off. Don't do it. Just look at the picture. Need I say more.

No matter how cute the matching Mother and Child photos are in the catalog, this does not necessarily compute to real life. Actually, as you see here, it does not compute at all.

"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it." 

Sometimes as a mother, no matter how much they beg you to play, it's just best to say no.

And finally, when asked my number one tip for taking beautiful photographs...never use a flash. Never, ever, ever. Never. Perhaps I should heed my own advice.

The soup bowl was empty. My eyelids were growing heavy. The photographs had been flipped through. The lessons learned. (Or at least acknowledged.) And admiring my boxes of photographs once again, I was glad I had stayed up until the wee hours to organize them.

Sometimes as a mother, when everything is a top priority, it takes that nesting instinct to get these seemingly unimportant projects done. And yet, spending the time, flipping through the years, smiling and watching my children grow-up before my eyes was anything but unimportant.

Potato Corn Chowder

While there are places in the world enjoying sunny days and short sleeve temperatures, this place, my hometown, is not one of them. We are still in the "spring showers" phase. Still carrying around umbrellas and donning our down jackets. Curling up with a bowl of soup continues to be part of our routine. This soup is perfect for spring. It takes advantage of the baby potatoes, leeks and herbs that are currently in-season. Throw in a little frozen corn and some crispy bacon and you've got a bowl of soup no one can resist.

Ingredients
2 tbsp olive oil
3 leeks, white and light green parts, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
3 lbs of thin-skinned, yellow potatoes, diced (approx 10 cups)
8 c chicken broth
1 tbsp fresh thyme
2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
2 c frozen sweet corn
1/2 c half-and-half (or at least, 2% milk)

Toppings
6 slices bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
1/4 c fresh Italian parsley, chopped

Directions
In a large soup pot, heat your olive oil over medium heat. Add your leeks and sauté for about 8-10 minutes over medium-low heat until they are softened and almost transluscent. Careful not to burn them. Turn your heat down if they are browning too quickly.

Add in your garlic and sauté another minute.

Add your potatoes to the pot and pour in your chicken stock. Add your thyme, salt and pepper. Put the lid on and bring to a boil. Reduce your heat to medium-low. With the lid askew, simmer for about 12-14 minutes or until your potatoes are just soft when pricked with a fork.

Add in your corn and simmer another 3-5 minutes.

Remove soup from heat. Stir in your half-and-half.

Lay out your toppings. Ladle the soup into bowls. Sprinkle a little of this and a little of that on top.

Then, take your bowl over to the window and watch the rain fall while daydreaming of sunnier places.


Yield: One big pot-full


*In case you were curious as to where I went...I traveled to Atlanta, Georgia last week for the BlogHerFood Conference. As you can imagine, we ate, talked and breathed food. I can't say enough good things about the trip. The women (and men) in the food world are truly amazing people. While I did not even take one picture, my friend (and roommate) Sandy Coughlin of Reluctant Entertainer wrote up a great post about the event (including more incriminating photos of me...clearly I'll never learn) which you can read by clicking here.


...


Organizing Project
A bit of a detour. See above. :)




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

This Week at the Farmers Market....

Oh, the Fleur-de-Lis....such a regal flower. It is said to signify perfection, light, and life.

Leeks...those slender stalks from the Allium family...the perfect "happy medium" between an onion and a clove of garlic.

Beets of all shapes, sizes and colors. 

I had a quick conversation with the owner of one of my favorite Portland Farmers Market stalls, DeNoble Family Farm. I was asking him when we would see his artichokes which are truly the most divine artichokes I have ever had. He's hoping by the first of June. 

We also got on the subject of tomatoes, and for those of you in the Portland area, he passed along his Farmer's Almanac prediction that this summer may be worse than last for tomatoes. Anyone planting tomatoes should be thinking about how to keep them warm. He could be wrong...but I thought I'd pass along the info.

Also, if you are ever looking for recipes on La Pomme de Portland that use the above ingredients, you can simply plug in the ingredient name in the "Search this Blog" box on the right-hand side and down a bit.

Cheers!!

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

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

Lentil and Fire-Roasted Tomato Soup for the Soul

I remember the moment distinctly. When she noticed. When she asked me about it. Back in the days when I would drive my 5-year-old daughter 30 minutes to attend a 30-minute "ballet" class and then, 30 minutes back home, all with her younger brother in tow. Back when I didn't make things very easy on myself.

Darkness had already settled over the city. We were making our way back across the river. The White Stag was lit up in all his glory and the kids were trying to spot Big Pink. Our car was brought to a halt at the far end of the bridge. We waited for the light to turn in our favor.

Directly outside our car window was a man, in tattered clothes, going through a dumpster. Looking for food, perhaps? Clothing? A blanket?

My daughter noticed and immediately asked me, "Mommy, what is that man doing?"

What do you say? How do you explain "homelessness"?

So, I did the best I could to try to explain being homeless to a 5-year old. When I was finished with my dissertation, she says to me, "Mommy, if we couldn't buy food we wouldn't have to worry. We could just go to Costco and eat the tasters."

If only it was that easy.

Maybe you're like me, I don't know, but I struggle with how to help someone who is homeless. Do I give him money? Buy him some food? Point her to a shelter? Act like I'm busy and look the other way?

When Transition Projects asked me if I would highlight their organization here on La Pomme and give an extra-special shout out to their Soup for the Soul fundraising event taking place Thursday, February 24th, I said, "Absolutely!"

Years ago I was involved in a different fundraising event for Transition Projects and what I came to love about this particular organization is the way in which they not only shelter someone who is homeless but literally provide him with all of his basic needs. Once those needs are met, Transition Projects can then help that person build up the skills he needs to become self-reliant and overcome barriers to housing and income.

And it is quite eye opening when Transition Projects gives these residents, formerly homeless people, cameras and asks them to photograph where they once slept.

An incredibly basic human need.

A safe place to sleep.

I feature some of their photographs here. The whole collection has been gathered into a book called, Where I Slept: Being Homeless in Portland.

So, perhaps you and your sweetie weren't able to properly celebrate Valentine's Day. Instead you were surrounded by youngsters who think of this holiday of love as the second-coming of Santa Claus. Why not consider a romantic evening out at Soup for the Soul?

Lentil and Fire-Roasted Tomato Soup

In honor of Soup for the Soul, I present to you one of my heartier soup recipes. I love to make this soup when it's rainy and cold and something warm sounds so inviting. I find that we eat a lot of "brown" food in the winter and one thing I particularly like about this dish is the color found popping out of every spoonful. From the bright orange carrots to the red tomatoes to the vibrant green spinach. Those colors give me an extra added boost of energy I desperately need this time of year.

As for the ingredients I have listed below....if you don't have the cheese rind or fresh parsley, don't sweat it. You might need an extra pinch or two of salt or pepper. Maybe an extra sprinkle of grated parmesan. And of course, regular tomatoes can be used in place of the fire-roasted ones. But don't skimp on the French green lentils. They really make a difference in soup. They hold their shape better than other types of lentils.


Ingredients:

1 c French green lentils (sometimes known as Du Puy)
2 tbsp olive oil
2 leeks chopped, white and light green parts only (could substitute 1 lg yellow onion)
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 c celery, diced (about 2-3 stalks)
1 c carrots, peeled and diced (about 2 large)
2 Bay leaves
1/2 tsp salt
freshly ground black pepper
a bit of parmesan cheese rind
3 tbsp chopped fresh Italian parsley (plus more for garnish)
8 c (2 qts) low-sodium chicken broth
1 28 oz can fire-roasted tomatoes, diced
3 c baby spinach leaves
freshly grated parmesan cheese

Optional: 1 lb kielbasa or other pre-cooked sausage links, diced

Directions:

Put your lentils in a medium bowl. Pour enough boiling water over them to cover by 2 inches. Set aside for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat a large soup pot over medium heat. Add your olive oil. Once heated, add your leeks, garlic, celery, carrots, Bay leaves, salt and pepper. Saute over medium-low heat for 8-10 minutes or until your vegetables have started to soften.

Next, add your cheese rind, parsley, chicken broth, tomatoes and lentils. Bring to a boil. Then, reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 30 minutes.

Stir in your spinach leaves and simmer another 10 minutes or until lentils are softened. If you are adding in sausage, spoon it into the pot now as well.

Ladle into bowls. Sprinkle on grated parmesan cheese and chopped parsley. Enjoy.


Yield: One big pot-full

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

A Delightful Spring Birthday Soup

What is it about certain ages that stir our emotions? Emotions that are both jubilant at one end and sometimes bittersweet at the other. You know the ages I'm referring to....1, 5, 10, 13, 16, 18, 21, 40, 65, 100 (if we should be so lucky). My youngest little buddy just turned 5 and I'm feeling a bit melancholy about it. I don't know why. Maybe because he is the youngest and I know these stages don't last forever. He still brings me treasures just like his older brother used to do. Tiny daisies, crumpled dandelions, little rocks and sticks. All of which I slip into my pockets for safe keeping. I tell him that I put them in there to keep the treasures safe and anytime I'm missing him, I just pull one out. He's at that wonderful age where a flick of your entire hand lets one know how old you are. If he were with you right now he'd tell you that he's 5, he has two loose teeth and he starts Kindergarten in the fall. He couldn't be more pleased.

One of my dearest, closest friends recently called. She had been looking at a photograph of the two of us with our eldest daughters. She said to me a little wistfully, "I look at that picture and they just look so much older than I realized. I can't believe it. Gads." Our daughters have grown up together since they were babies and I have loved watching them do just that but looking at the photograph myself, I have to admit...they are closer to the women they will become than the little girls they once were. My daughter will be 13 in a month. She's thrilled. I remember my 13th Birthday well. Who was there. What I was wearing (purple velour.) I loved it. I received a tube of multi-flavored lip smackers and my very own flute. How interesting...how surreal to have your children be an age you remember so well. And if one of my children is that age...what does that make me?

I must have these thoughts in the forefront of my mind. These thoughts about my children growing older. About me growing older. I was in the kitchen with my 10-year old son and I happened to notice the size of his feet. They are enormous. And, out of nowhere, I started singing, "Where is the little boy I carried...." (My own version of the lyrics.) He, of course, was mortified and left the room. Then this weekend, I happened to be at the lovely and sweet wedding of my brother and his beautiful new wife. My son had slipped those big feet out of his normal basketball shoes and into some dapper black loafers. He wore a suit and a tie and had a look of pure confidence on his face. Of utter satisfaction. As he stood at the edge of the aisle, waiting to perform his "ushering" duties, I felt my throat thicken because for the first time, I saw glimpses of the grown-up man he's headed for. He's always been "just boy" for me. And, while he still is a young boy, I could see bits of the future in the way he stood.

My parents, my sister, my nephews, and the whole of us were all together last night. Together to celebrate my 5-year old's Birthday. The grown-ups around the dining room table. The boys at the kitchen table. (My daughter had fled to dance.) While we chatted, enjoyed each delicious spoonful of our spring soup and sipped on glasses of Pinot Gris, the boys tried their best to stay seated and eat but more often than not they were up. Banging out their compositions on the piano. Screeching by in their cars. Asking for more applesauce, more bread, more cold water. We tried out best to ignore the chaos and continue on but it was proving difficult. I had almost reached my limit and was about to pull out the old, "Enough!" but then, I saw the look on my 5-year old's face. A look of pure joy. Of excitement. That all was as it should be. That the noise and the chaos were part of the celebration. And the fact that his cousins, his Aunt, his Nana and Papa were all in town just for him was reason enough to scream from the top of one's lungs. How could I put an end to the jubilation? And, how could I not be excited as well? I remember once asking my beautiful mother if she had cried at my wedding and I remember her saying to me, "Why would I have cried? That was such a happy celebration." Perhaps that's how I need to think about my children growing older. I need to put aside my melancholy thoughts and allow myself to be swept up in their excitement. Perhaps....or perhaps my mother is just a much stronger woman than I.

A Delightful Spring Birthday Soup

Every year at this time I see recipes for "Potato Leek Soup" spring up by the dozen and every year I'm intrigued to make it; however, I'm not one to want to eat a pot full of warm milk which is essentially how most of those soups are made. So, taking a cue from what was available at our local farmer's market, I came up with this lighter version of potato leek soup. I prefer the delicate balance of all of the spring flavors in here just as it is but if you'd like to give it a bit more heartiness you could add a cup or so of diced chicken...maybe from a leftover rotisserie chicken. I would also have salt and pepper on the table so each person can give their soup a quick little zing right before eating and believe it or not this soup is delicious with soft-(or hard-) boiled eggs and a little toast on the side. Now, I do have to admit to you that while I made this soup and served it for my little guy's family Birthday dinner, it was definitely more of a hit with "the chicks," if you catch my drift.

Ingredients:

2 tbsp olive oil

2 leeks, thinly sliced

3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

6 small yukon gold potatoes or other thin-skinned spring potatoes, sliced

1/2 c white wine

1 qt water (or 1/2  water and 1/2 chicken broth)

1 cup fresh or frozen petite peas

1 tsp kosher salt

optional: top with minced, fresh chives or minced parsley

Directions:

Heat heavy bottomed soup pot on stove. Chop up your leeks. Then, add the olive oil to the pot to heat. Once heated add your leeks and salt and saute over med-low heat for about 5 minutes. The leeks should be softened. Add your garlic and saute another minute or so. Add your potatoes and saute them about 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Then, stir in your wine and let the alcohol evaporate from the pot. About 2-3 minutes or so. I can always tell by smelling the rising steam. Once the pungent alcohol smell turns sweet, you know it's finished. Now, add a quart of water or enough to cover the potatoes, bring to a boil and then, simmer, covered, for about 15 minutes. Add your peas and simmer another 5 minutes or until the potatoes are soft and the peas are just cooked. Spoon into shallow bowls and enjoy.

Yield: Enough to serve a family of 4 and one bird eater. This recipe doubles beautifully.

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

Braised Pacific Halibut with Mushrooms and Leeks

While my dear, sweet husband would prefer to remain anonymous on these here pages of "La Pomme" or at least, keep to the role of an extra...an extra, as in, one of the 70,000 in the stands of the filming of a great sports film...I do feel that there is something you should know about him. He is a man who knows what he likes. And, once he's locked on to that...tea brand, yogurt and granola pairing, holiday cookie from Trader Joe's...there is no deviating. Now, this is a good thing, especially if you're me. He's locked on to me and I don't have to worry. However, because of his highly "distinguished palate," preparing a meal for my guy can sometimes be...challenging. So, when his hunting and gathering takes him out of town, my mind starts racing and I immediately start thinking about all of the dishes I can prepare in his absence especially those involving mushrooms...for those fungi have never made my sweetie's "like list."

So, after a flurry of chopping and slicing and simmering and scooping and my man far, far away, I laid before my three children bowls of braised halibut with mushrooms and leeks for dinner. My anticipation of enjoying this fine meal could barely be contained. I sat down with excitement twinkling in my eyes. But, while the presentation was beautiful and the children dutifully ate their meal, somehow it was anti-climatic. There we sit. Just me and the three kids. Eating our meal. And then, sure enough, the 10-year old someone farts and it's all down hill from there. Somehow it seemed silly to have gone the extra effort for my off-spring when, honestly, they would have been just as happy with Costco chicken nuggets, frozen peas and applesauce.

I cleaned up the meal and headed up for the bedtime routine. Glancing at the chair in my daughter's room, I sighed. There would be no lounging in that chair, eavesdropping on my man and the littlest one through the wall as they "rehearsed" their rendition of "Up On the Rooftop" for the Preschool Holiday Program. The silence from the downstairs was almost haunting. No Sportscenter. No hollering from my sweetie to the 10-year old to "Get down here and check out this play." And, once I had the boys down and was scooping up the trail of legos left by the mysterious and elusive "Lego Poopin' Rabbit" that apparently inhabits our house, I glanced downstairs expecting to see my daughter snuggled up next to her Daddy watching their favorite show. But, no. They weren't there. So, although I was able to eat my mushrooms tonight which were quite tasty, somehow the pleasure was lessened by the absence of the one who matters most which gives rise to the question, "Is food really more pleasurable when it's shared?" Perhaps there is some truth to that.

Oh, gads. Look what I've done. I've gone and talked about my main squeeze. The guy who wants to keep his contributions to our lives anonymous. We'll just keep this a little secret between you and me. Shhh. Maybe he won't read this and then, he'll never know. Deal?

Braised Pacific Halibut with Mushroom and Leeks

(Inspired by a recipe of a similar name from Fine Cooking, October 2009)

For years, I didn't cook fish, only ordered it in restaurants. I don't know why. Somehow the whole process seemed to intimidate me. Now, the older, wiser me can't be stopped. We eat a lot of fish. Don't be put off by the "rawther fawncy" title of this recipe. It is so quick that it is worthy of weeknight status especially if you buy the mushrooms that have already been sliced. And, while the recipe calls for halibut sometimes I just can't stomach the price for that meaty guy and so, I've made this with petrale sole as well which is good but does tend to fall apart easily. I'm sure cod would be another tasty alternative. Enjoy.

2 tbsp butter

2 tbsp olive oil

1/2 pound, white button mushrooms, thinly, sliced (about 4 cups) (Feel free to use whatever your favorite mix of mushrooms might be.)

2 large leeks, white and light-green parts only, thinly sliced (about 4 cups)

4 cups lower-salt chicken broth

1/2 cup of dry, white wine

5 skinless Pacific halibut fillets (about 4 oz each)

1 tbsp finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

Melt the butter and heat the oil over medium heat in a deep, straight sided saute pan with a lid. Add the mushrooms and leeks and season lightly with salt and pepper. Cook gently, stirring occasionally, until softened but not browned, 7 to 8 minutes. Add the broth and wine, raise the heat to medium high, and bring to a boil.

Season the halibut with salt and pepper. Nestle the fish among the vegetables in the skillet. Bring the broth back to a boil, cover tightly, and reduce the heat to low. Cook gently until the fish is just cooked through, about 7 minutes.

Serve the fish in shallow soup bowls, surrounded by the mushrooms, leeks and broth. Sprinkle the chopped parsley on top.

Yield: 5 servings....

All original text and photographs, copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Oh, Ye, Benevolent Butternut Squash Minestrone

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Ye, Benevolent Butternut Squash Minestrone

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

2 tbsp olive oil

1 leek, white and light green parts, chopped

1 med onion, chopped

1 1/2 c carrots, about 3, diced

2 celery stalks, diced

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

4 sprigs of thyme

2 tbsp fresh sage, chopped

1 bay leaf

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

2 qt chicken broth

2 med white boiling potatoes, cubed

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

1/2 cup orzo pasta

freshly, grated parmesan cheese

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

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

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

Cheddar Cheese Biscuits

1 1/2 c white flour

1 1/2 c whole, wheat pastry flour

1 1/2 tbsp baking powder

1 tbsp sugar

2 1/4 tsp salt

2 1/2 c heavy cream

1 cup grated, sharp cheddar cheese

2 tbsp minced chives (optional)

3 tbsp butter

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

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

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

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

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

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

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Lentil Soup for a Blustery Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lentil Soup for a Blustery Day

(Adapted from Ina Garten’s Lentil Sausage Soup)

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

1/8 c olive oil

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

2 leeks, chopped, white and light green parts only

2 large garlic cloves, minced

1 tsp salt

¾ tsp black pepper

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

1 tsp cumin

2 c diced celery

2 c diced carrots

3 quarts chicken broth

¼ c tomato paste OR a 15 oz can diced tomatoes

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

2 tbls dry red wine or red wine vinegar, optional

Freshly grated Parmesan cheese for serving.

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

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

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

Yield: About 8 to 10 servings

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

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

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009