Chickpeas, Asparagus and a Splash of Lemon Salad So Good You Might Weep

Yes, it's true. "I'm a weeper. I weep."

(To borrow a line from one of my favorite movies, The Holiday, which does indeed make me weep.)

Just this morning I started weeping while making the kids' lunches. One may have thought it was because if I have to make one more school lunch I may start weeping and never stop.

But no, that wasn't it. Could have been but no.

(And yes, I could have my children make their own lunches but I have control issues.)

Out of the blue, I started thinking about how I'll have a daughter in high school next year. (!?!) And I teared up, right there, on the spot. Only 4 years left...

My daughter gave me a little hug, sighed and said, "Oh, Mom...." And then, went back to primping.

The 11-year old just shook his head and the 6-year old reminded me how he'll still be here.

And so it's been with all of this "cleaning out" and organizing, I've been a little weepy.

As I backed my car up to the donation center, I found a lump in my throat as I handed over the plastic, muti-colored alphabet mat (that I never liked). I blinked back tears as the Princess Party Tent was handed over even though I cursed that thing every time I had to set it up. A wave of nostalgia hit me as I pulled out the bag of pixel blocks that no one ever played with but I'd been holding onto for years and years because someone might.

I'm starting to think that the reason organizing and cleaning out can feel so overwhelming isn't the actual organizing and cleaning out but the letting go. Darn those kids...growing up and all.

Once I returned home, however, I felt a little lighter. Like a little weight had been lifted and I haven't missed the mat, tent and blocks once...until now as I'm typing this. Now, I'm blinking back tears.

And sometimes this is the way I feel when I face my fridge and try to figure out what to make for lunch or dinner...again. And sometimes just the thought of cooking again can make me weep. (Where's my personal chef when I need him?) I stand back from the fridge, observing, knowing that with all the little bits here and there, I should be able to pull something together.

And then, out of the blue, I'll remember that I have an entire case of garbanzo beans in the garage for all that hummus I was planning on making...but never did. And I'll remember a recipe I recently read that sounded intriguing and I'll start pulling out my version of that recipe.

Before I know it I'm sitting down to a lunch composed entirely of bits and pieces from my kitchen (and the garage) that needed to be cleaned out and used up. And as I sit there eating my scrumptious little lunch, I'll feel a little lighter. I'll feel that a little weight has been lifted.

And I won't be weeping, but simply enjoying, unless of course you remind me that my daughter is going to high school next year which I just reminded myself by typing it and then, well, then I might start weeping...again.



PS: You see, it never ends. I mentioned to the 6-year old how beautiful all of the cherry blossoms scattered all over the ground are. A bit like snowflakes. Grabbing a single petal, he runs inside and makes me this. Tears...

Chickpeas, Asparagus and a Splash of Lemon Salad
Inspired by Molly Wizenberg's recipe in Bon Appetit April 2011

So Ms. Molly, who's delightful blog, Orangette, I can't get enough of, had a chickpea salad recipe published in the April issue of Bon Appetit. It caught my fancy especially considering the case of chickpeas (garbanzo beans) I have in the garage that needs to be used up. Of course, I had to give it my own twist such as adding asparagus to it and setting it on a bed of lettuce. Simply delightful. A welcome change from all the winter food we've been having for so so long.

Ingredients:
1 sm/med garlic clove, peeled and minced
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice - 1/2 lemon
2 tbsp olive oil
pinch of salt
palmful of Italian parsley, coarsely chopped (approx 1 tbsp)
1 15 oz can garbanzo/chickpeas, drained and rinsed
roasted asparagus spears, cut into 1-inch segments, about 6 or whatever you have in the fridge
1/4 c grated Parmesan cheese
couple handfuls of baby greens

Directions:
Whisk together your garlic, lemon juice, olive oil, salt and parsley. If you have time, I would set this mixture aside and let the flavors "meld" for at least 10 minutes or up to an hour but if there is no extra time to be had you can continue on with delicious results.

Gently stir in your chickpeas, asparagus and Parmesan.

Spoon onto a bed of baby greens or whatever greens you love.

Munch away. Enjoy...

PS: A dear friend of mine told me that her sister mixed together garbanzo/chickpeas, sliced cherry tomatoes, olive oil and kosher salt this past weekend and served it alongside grilled steaks.

PPS: The above mentioned daughter who is headed to high school next year is 14 today. (sniff, sniff) While I try to keep dinners quick and simple on the weeknights, when it's a Birthday night, I do a little more. I'm planning on serving this salad tonight along with grilled chicken sausages, asparagus/pea risotto, strawberries and Birthday cake. It's making my stomach rumble just thinking about all that Birthday dinner goodness.

Here's my sweet girl back when she played in the Princess Party Tent....sigh.

....

Organizing Project:
I got nothin'... although, as I said above, I did actually make it to the donation center.

....

AM Northwest
I realized I never posted this on La Pomme last week. So, in case you're interested, here's a live version of yours truly along with lovely Helen making Apple and Rhubarb Baked in a Pie on AM Northwest. Cheers...



If you are unable to view a video screen above this line, click here to be taken directly to the link.





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

A Refreshing Grapefruit and Greens Salad...25 Years in the Making

Just as I was putting on my coat and preparing to leave my dear friend's annual cookie party, her father says to me, "So, Carrie, would you like a case of grapefruit before you leave? I still have 15 cases in the garage. You know, we've been selling them all these years. They even gave us a plaque at our 25th year." How could I refuse him? His twinkly big eyes and sweet smile. Plus, the guilt. In some twisted way I felt a tiny bit responsible for his grapefruit selling endeavors all this time. I winced a smidge and said, "I would love a case."

Perhaps it was a Friday night. Maybe Saturday. I can't be sure. But I do know I was babysitting. My regular babysitting job. Which was how I spent most of my weekends in high school. (And let me tell you, that's not exactly a bad thing. Kept me out of trouble. For the most part.) One of my dear friends, whom my father to this day continues to call "my little Ice Cube", was with me. I'm not sure if she just stopped by or if I had invited her earlier in the day but there we were. At the Belli's. I had my portable typewriter and white-out in front of me and I was diligently working on my application for an AFS student exchange program. I had been unsuccessful at convincing my mother to let me go for my entire junior year and had finally succumbed to the realization that a summer exchange would be better than nothing.

I don't know if it is because my father was in the Navy, traveling the world and then coming home to share his tales or if it's a genetic tic I was born with, but I have always had the travel bug. And I can't help infecting other people with it especially when I'm in a particularly hyper energetic state in regards to travel. And so it was that in that one seemingly benign evening, I convinced my dear friend to fill out an exchange student application as well. Until she walked in the front door of my babysitting job, she had no intention of leaving home the following summer. And her parents didn't realize that they'd spend the next 25 plus years selling grapefruit.

Isn't it fascinating to look back in your life and pick out those times when your life changed in an instant? Or when you changed somebody else's?

We sent out our applications that fall and spent the next few months being interviewed, hosting other exchange students for a week or two, anxiously awaiting our placements and selling grapefruit at Christmas...the annual AFS fundraiser. Ok, ok, I should probably say that my parents actually sold the grapefruit. For a few years.

The following summer, my dear friend saw me off at the airport as I boarded a plane for Portugal. A few weeks later she would board one for Iceland.

We often talk about how that summer away changed our lives. About how that one evening changed hers. And until a month ago, I hadn't realized how my insistence that she fill out an application had changed her parents lives as well. Keeping up the grapefruit beat and all.

A Refreshing Grapefruit and Greens Salad

Yes, I am certifiably soup crazy. My family has soup at least 4 nights a week. I can't help it. It's easy. There is only one pot to clean. And it keeps me warm on cold winter evenings. (Nevermind that it's been 10 degrees warmer than usual for this time of year for the past month.) Sometimes though, I don't want soup. I want something lighter. More refreshing. And with the lack of fresh produce at this time of year, that request can be challenging. But lucky me, I have an entire case of grapefruit I'm still trying to get through, and so I've been turning to this salad to fulfill my request. And let me just say that each forkful is like a bite of summer here in the depths of winter. And right about now when my Vitamin D levels are at their annual low point, I can use all the summer I can get.

If you've never sectioned a grapefruit before, get ready for some fun. I'm attaching a couple "How To" videos for your viewing pleasure. Click here for the Granny demo or here for the young dude demo.


Ingredients:

a handful or two of salad greens - arugula, red lettuce, baby spinach, etc.
thinly sliced red onion
5 or 6 sections of Ruby Red grapefruit
optional: crumbled goat cheese

1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tbsp minced shallot
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves, coarsely chopped
pinch of salt
3-4 tbsp olive oil

Directions:

Combine your vinegar, shallot, thyme leaves and salt in a medium-sized bowl and set aside. This will allow the vinegar to "pickle" the shallot a bit before you stir in the olive oil.

Meanwhile, section your grapefruit. Then, put a handful of greens on a plate. Top with your grapefruit sections, the red onion and your goat cheese.

Go back to your vinaigrette bowl. Slowly pour your olive oil into the vinegar mixture while continually whisking the mixture together. This will allow the oil and vinegar to emulsify or to blend together.  How much olive oil you add depends on how "vinegary" you like your dressings. I prefer 4 tablespoons.

Spoon the desired amount of vinaigrette on your salad. Then pick up a fork and enjoy the unexpected sweetness of the grapefruit as contrasted against the tartness of the vinaigrette and all held together by the greens. Ahh...le pamplemousse!



Organizing Project:
Jan 17-23: Cleaned out dreaded toy/game/puzzle shelves.
Jan 24-30: Pull everything out of dreaded under-stairs closet including the Bat Cave at the far end. (Do you see how I'm giving myself baby steps? I'm not saying organize the whole darned thing. Let's just start by pulling everything out. I'm frightened.)


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

Straddling the Seasons with Pork Chop Salad

"Ahhh....June 21st. First Day of Summer." I hopped out of bed and ran to the window just hoping the weatherman (no, not a "weatherperson" because I do in fact get my weather report from a man) was wrong. Pulling the curtains aside I was met with gray. All shades of gray and clouds. Low clouds. High clouds and cold. Down jacket, cold. I sighed and wondered if I should just check myself in. "Sun. Why can't we have just one little trickle of it??!! Arrrgghh!" But then, I decided that this weather had been going on for so long..."no more whining." I needed to get on with it. I needed to just grab hold of the old, "If you can't beat 'em...." No, more dwelling on the possibility that I might be living in someone's cruel joke of a snow globe. No, not the sweet, twinkly ones that play Christmas music but the kind that comes with frosted glass to imitate fog. When you shake it, it puts up dark, heavy clouds in varying shades of gray and winding it up you're treated to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. "No, put those thoughts aside."

And, so I did. Wearing my down jacket, I cheerfully dropped my middle guy off at the first camp of the summer season. And then, headed back home, taking time to notice all of the daisies popping up on the sides of the roads. I've always had a thing for daisies...fields of daisies....running in slow motion through those daisy laden fields. Must have something to do with the opening sequence of all of those Little House on the Prairie episodes I watched. Once home, I fixed myself up a bowl of Nancy's yogurt topped with granola, mangoes and those little Hood strawberries that are certainly synonymous with summer, grabbed a cookbook off the shelf and sat down at the kitchen table with my tea, my breakfast and my reading material. Yes, yes, I'll admit that I have a hard time just...sitting. I always feel as if I need to be doing something and so, if no other reading material presents itself when I sit down to eat, I grab a cookbook.

I love reading the inscription on the cookbooks I've been given. This one happened to say, "1993 Happy Cooking! Love, Kathy and Blake." I can remember back to when I was presented with this gift and the different recipes I made from the book at that time in my life. This collection of recipes was put out by Pasta and Co, "Seattle's Leading Take-Out Shop." I recall how I frequented their store at UVillage to buy their creations more than I actually made any back then. Back in those pre-kid years. Back when we'd get together with friends for dinner and talk about our dogs. As I read through the recipes, I realized how many I had yet to try and just how good they all sounded. I started fervently turning down the corners of every delicious sounding dish when I was stopped by the recipe for "Pork Chop Salad." I don't know what it was. Maybe the weather. So fall-ish and pork chops make me think of fall. Or maybe it was the shallots and we all know I have a serious love affair with shallots. Or maybe it was the "salad" part which sounded so...so...summer-ish.

As I stood at the stove, essentially pan-frying my slices of pork loin, I alternated between cursing at the bits of hot oil jumping out of the pan and stinging my hands and being lost in remembrances of my Grandma. When I think of summer, I think of her. So many of my summer vacations were spent with her. At her home. At the coast. And, pan-fying...anything...bacon, ham, cracklins...smells like her. But she would have kept it simple. Salt and pepper. A yellow onion. None of my craziness of chopping up fresh herbs and 6 shallots. And, undoubtedly, her pork chops would have come out better than anything I could ever make. She was just one of those gifted cooks. As I removed my first batch of pork slices and readied myself to cook up the next batch, I could swear I saw the half-finished crossword puzzle on the counter. The deck of cards waiting for a round of Crazy 8's before we ran out onto the beach. And above the sound of the pork sizzling in the olive oil, I could hear her loud, generous laugh...the one I inherited. And somehow, I could feel her arms around me giving me one of her all-enveloping hugs coupled with her smile and her saying to me, "Summer is here, Carrie." And by golly, if the sun didn't come out the next day. And the next. Burned away all of those clouds in the snow globe. (Oh, and the frosted glass that I thought was fog...that was really just dirty windows. I was unable to tell the difference until the sun came streaming in.)

Pork Chop Salad
Adapted from the recipe of the same name in the Pasta and Co By Request cookbook

Now, I find that the name of this recipe is a bit of a misnomer. Kind of like "egg salad." When I see the word salad, I think green leaves and there isn't anything green and leafy in this ingredient list besides the herbs so....for one meal, I turned it into a salad by putting the "pork salad" over a bed of green leaves and adding some cherry tomatoes and crumbled goat cheese. Another day, I put it on a fresh baguette with some greens from a local farmer, a crack of pepper and a pinch of salt for a quick and tasty lunch. And the evening I actually made it, I served it alongside some corn on the cob and a little green salad. My daughter piped up that she thought it would be great on an appetizer table on top of little baguette slices. My sweetie thought white rice might have been nice. I see it paired with couscous in the future. And, the boys....no comment. They were too busy eating. According to the original recipe, this "salad" is meant to be served warm or at room temperature (which makes it good for summer) but never cold. It will keep well for five days in the refrigerator.

Ingredients:
1/2 tbsp dried Italian herbs OR 2 tsp chopped fresh thyme, 2 tsp chopped fresh sage and 1 tsp chopped fresh rosemary
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
Big pinch of allspice (If you don't have this, I wouldn't worry about it.)
2 1/2 pounds boneless pork loin roast, cut into 1/2-inch to 3/4-inch slices
1/2 cup pure olive oil or other "high heat oil" such as Canola oil
6 shallots, peeled and sliced (the original recipe called for 10)
2 cloves garlic, put through a garlic press
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

1/4 cup finely chopped fresh parsley to put on top

Directions:
Mix together the herbs, salt, pepper and allspice. Sprinkle both sides of your pork slices with this mixture, using it all.

In a large sauté pan, heat your pure olive oil to very hot. Add as many pork slices as will fit in the pan and brown thoroughly for 2-3 minutes on each side. You want your pork cooked through but not overcooked. I tend to remove my pork from the heat while it still has a faint hue of pink in the middle, knowing that it will continue to cook even after it's taken out of the pan. Remove slices to a large bowl as they are done, tent with foil and set aside. When pork has all been cooked, lower heat. Add your shallots to the pan and cook until golden, about 5 minutes. About 3 minutes into cooking your shallots add your garlic, taking care not to burn it. Add vinegar, raise heat and scrape up all meat drippings. Remove from heat and stir in the extra virgin olive oil. Let mixture cool while you cut pork slices into 1-inch to 2-inch pieces, returning them to the bowl and salvaging all meat juices. Toss pork with shallot mixture.

You may refrigerate the "salad" at this point but when ready to serve, bring it back to room temperature or reheat gently. Make sure to sprinkle the "salad" with a little parsley before serving....however, you decide to serve it. Enjoy.

Yield: About 5 cups

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

Lettuce Wraps Extraordinaire....

I can recount the exact moment I fell in love with lettuce wraps. You see, I have this one particular cousin. And I should tell you, I don't have many cousins. No. I have a handful of cousins...well, two...that I actually grew up with and attended high school with and then, there's a handful that I really only know through stories told to me by my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles and somehow through these stories being told I feel as though I know them and then, like I said, there's the "one particular cousin."

She had the singular distinction of being the "first born" grandchild. The one who paved the way. The one we all looked up to. The one who never had to sit at the kids' table. The one always privy to the "adult conversations." I remember one Christmas when she pulled a candle out of her stocking and gave my Granny a knowing look. They smiled at each other and then, Granny hushed her when she saw me looking her way. I wanted to say, "It's ok. I know the truth about the big guy." but I could sense that this moment was just for them. She always seemed so much more knowledgeable about life in general than my adolescent-self. More worldly. More sophisticated. I always found myself watching the way she styled her beautiful mane of hair. The way she ironed her suits for work. The way, after purchasing those suits, she would take the time to re-sew each button on more securely than it was when she had purchased it. The way she kept her dinner parties organized on index cards. I always wanted to read whatever she was reading. To live in the hip apartment on Vista just like her. To sip red wine from a glass and mimic Julia Child while cooking with my husband. And, all of us younger cousins didn't each just look up to her....no, we went to her. We went to her with our problems, our questions, our concerns both big and small...and she always took us in. What that must have been like...to be the one everyone turned to.

And then, as often happens in our transient country, she moved. And, she moved far. From Portland to Atlanta. We promised to call each other....which we did for awhile. We promised to visit....which we did a couple of times. And it was during one of those trips back to see her when she and her hubby took us to the new, highly sought after restaurant, P.F. Chang's...back before P.F. Chang's were as plentiful as Starbucks. We dutifully waited the two hours for our table and then, upon being seated, we were treated to a round of appetizers that included lettuce wraps, crab wontons and myriad of sauces. I found it all so divine. I couldn't get enough. When Portland finally opened its very own P.F. Chang's, my sweetie and I would frequent that restaurant over and over just to have the lettuce wraps and every time I would recall the first time I ever had them...with my cousin. But then, for no real reason, we stopped going to P.F. Chang's. And, for no particular reason other than the undeniable fact that life gets busy, we stopped flying back to Atlanta and my cousin and I talked less frequently on the phone.

I realize that the feelings toward social media, run the gamet from love to hate. As Betty White, in her own sweet way, put it on Saturday Night Live, "I wouldn't say that people on [Facebook] are losers...but that's only because I'm polite." Well, nevermind her...think of me. The product of a military family with many moves leaving me with friends scattered everywhere. Me, with parents who continued moving even after those military days were over. Me, with cousins on both coasts and siblings in different states. I have been so grateful for the opportunity to reconnect with people that would have been lost to me otherwise. To be able to have a glimpse at the grown-up person I only knew as a child. What she has become. Where he has made his home. To be able to connect with cousins and siblings both near and far. And even those newer friends. The ones I see day-in and day-out dropping off our daughters at dance. Spending hours together back-stage. You think you know them...or her, in particular....this stunningly beautiful corporate woman....when really, you find out, you don't know her at all. Through little social media "sound bites," you find out she's an incredible cook which you never knew. In fact, she loves to cook and is often posting photographs of her culinary creations. You start to look forward to these bits of inspiration and when she posts a recipe for lettuce wraps, you know it's time to try one.

So, as I made my dear friend's lettuce wraps, I thought about how much we share with people face-to-face. How well do we really know one another? How much do we share in a two-sentence post while we're alone...behind a computer screen? I think about our need to be connected. The reasons why social media outlets have become insanely popular. I think about my cousin. That I can once again have a little glimpse into her life. What she's doing. Where she's going. And, I take comfort in knowing, that she's over there...reading what I write over here. Telling me how much she looks forward to it. I am so grateful for her presence, once again, in my life.

Lettuce Wraps Extraordinaire
Recipe created and then, kindly shared by Tina Ho

First off, I should tell you that my dear friend, Tina, is not going to like that I referred to her above as "this stunningly beautiful corporate woman" but she is, so ignore any comments she may leave that says otherwise and tell her to just graciously accept the compliment. Second of all, her lettuce wraps are absolutely divine. Better than P.F. Chang's. I think my 5-year old summed it up best when he said after inhaling his, "I don't know what that was....but it was yuuuummmmyy!" And thirdly, for whatever reason, when I made these I also made a pot of brown rice and rolled that up in the lettuce leaves as well.

Ingredients

Filling:
1-2 tbsp olive oil
1 medium shallot, chopped (or 1/2 c onion or green onion)
1 lb ground turkey (or finely chopped chicken breast, ground chicken, ground pork, shrimp, tofu, etc.)
Salt and pepper, if desired
3-4 tbsp oyster sauce (I used 3)
1-2 tbsp soy sauce (I used 2)
1-2 tbsp sugar (I used 1)
1/3 c dried wood ear mushroom that are pre-sliced into strips or dried shitake mushrooms
2 small bundles of bean thread noodles, found in the asian food aisle or asian grocery stores (approx 3 cups of soaked, drained and chopped noodles)
A couple heads of romaine, iceberg or butter lettuce leaves, washed and dried

Sauce:
5-6 tbsp of hoisin sauce
4 tbsp peanut butter, smooth or crunchy (I used smooth)
3 tbsp hot water
chili paste or siracha sauce to taste (optional)

Begin by washing your lettuce leaves and then, roll them up in a clean kitchen towel and set them aside to dry. I used the organic romaine hearts you can get at Trader Joe's.

Next, soak your mushrooms and noodles in hot water for 15 minutes in separate bowls. (I used the water from my "insta-hot".) Then, rinse, dry and and chop up your mushrooms. And, rinse, dry and chop up your noodles to about 1 inch long. (I "dried" my noodles by rolling them up in a bundle between a couple of paper towels.) Set aside.

While your mushrooms and noodles are soaking, mix up your sauce. Put the hoisin sauce, the peanut butter and the hot water in a bowl and stir to combine. Adjust by adding hot water to make it thinner if you prefer. Add chili paste, if desired. Set aside.

Heat your olive oil in a medium skillet and cook shallot until golden, about 5-6 minutes. Add your meat, season with a bit of salt and pepper and cook until nearly done, another 6-8 minutes. Add oyster sauce, soy sauce, sugar and cook another 5 minutes. Taste and adjust flavorings as needed. Add chopped mushrooms and cook another 5 minutes. (I have to admit that even though I had my mushrooms ready to go, I didn't put them in at the last minute, because there are a few in our family opposed to fungi and I couldn't afford to make a "second" dinner for them if they refused to eat this first meal. I'm not a huge fan of "short order cooking" but sometimes it's necessary.) Add noodles and turn off the heat. Mix noodles in with meat and flavorings. They will cook quickly and soak up excess moisture from the meat mixture. Don't overcook noodles or they may liquify.

To assemble these heavenly creations, take a lettuce leaf, spoon on some sauce, (spoon on some rice if you made some out of habit like me), spoon on the meat filling, eat and enjoy. Scrumptious...I loved them with the turkey but I'm thinking I may try shrimp or ground pork next time just for kicks.

Yield: Enough for a family of 5 plus leftovers.



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