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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

Seattle's Best Coffee Curiosity Pack

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

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



White Bean and Kale Soup Peppered with Pancetta

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

Ingredients:

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

Yield: One big pot full.


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


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

Baked Minestrone to Evoke Memories Long Since Passed

I had been forewarned about the hairpin turns but what I hadn't been prepared for was the splendor of the canyon ablaze in reds and golds. The tiniest of the three of us had somehow managed to wedge herself in the "back" as we headed south in the cherry red sports car. The beauty of the Smith River Canyon in deep fall zipping past our windows. Each one of us was feeling a bit homesick as the holidays approached. So, our driver was taking us home. One of those "college weekends at home." To her home. Dolly and Kenny quietly crooning in the background...her Christmas album that always has top bidding as the first one to play each year. The three of us talking about this and that. Nothing much. Heading deeper and deeper into the dense forest.

Funny how our memories work. Only the keenest among us remembering everything. Most of us only remembering fleeting moments within moments. But sometimes those brief but remembered bits of time passed leave an indelible mark on us. We carry those bits around with us throughout our lives. Over time, we jostle those memories around in our heads. And they evolve. Take on different shapes. The sharpest details tend to fall by the wayside. Details no longer of importance. And the edges begin to soften. But one thing never changes....when. We can never change when those memories actually occurred and what they taught us about ourselves or others who surrounded us at that time in our lives.

Seeing as my college "mode-of-transportation" was a bike, I was quite thrilled to have spent the past 5 hours riding shotgun in the cherry red sports car and only felt a tinge of guilt as our tiny friend unravelled herself from the back of the two-seater car after pulling into the driveway. Here we were. At the childhood home of our dear friend. Our first time visiting. We entered her gracious home and for the rest of the weekend, we were treated to glimpses into her childhood. Into bits and pieces that made her who she is. Her bedroom with the canopy bed. The bathroom she shared with her sisters. The white carpeting in the living room. The restored Victorian where they spent numerous special occasions. Her family's place of business. The bay. The barn in her backyard. Her mother. Her father.

Sometimes I wonder if you can truly know a person without knowing her family. Her hometown. All the places and people that touched her during those most impressionable years of childhood.

We sat around that large wooden table in her family room. Talking. Petting her dog (or was it dogs?) that reminded me of my family dog. Her mother, who had been just out of our vision in the kitchen, was now setting down bowls of minestrone in front of us. The warm and comforting smell causing my stomach to growl. And looking down into the bowl, I had to smile. Dancing around in my soup were black olives. The same black olives, back at my home, we would have put on our fingers like puppets. The same black olives my grandmother would have set out with sweet pickles and celery topped with cream cheese and paprika at Thanksgiving. And suddenly, surrounded by my dear friend's family, in her childhood home, eating a simple meal of minestrone soup, I didn't feel so homesick anymore. And no matter how many details fall off the edge of the memories from that weekend, I'll never forget the warmth. And it's those same feelings of warmth and family that define my dear friend to me. A friend whom I'm still fortunate enough to have in my life.

Baked Minestrone
by Linda Macdonald

I make this soup every fall. Sometimes a couple times during fall. So easy. So delicious. And, my favorite part are those simple black olives. I am not sure what the "baked" in the title of the recipe is meant to imply, but I am not one to argue with the creator of such a scrumptious dish. Now, Linda's instructions have you precooking your pasta before putting it in. I'm guessing that is to help prevent it from getting too soggy. I am always too lazy to do this step since it means washing another pot so I just throw my pasta in to cook in the broth about 15 minutes before I want to serve it. I also use 2 32-oz boxes of beef broth and omit the water since I don't want to waste the leftover broth. I will then add in some water if the stew has simmered down quite a bit and more liquid is needed. But however you do it, I hope you'll make a batch this stew and experience your own feelings of warmth and family as we approach the holidays.

Ingredients:

2 lbs stew meat, cubed
1 c onion, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 tsp Italian seasoning (I used Herbes de Provence because it's what I had on hand.)
OR 1 tsp oregano, 1 tsp basil and 1/2 tsp pepper

3 15-oz cans beef broth

2 c water

1 15-oz can of diced tomatoes, plus juice

1 1/2 c zucchini (approx 2)

1 c carrots

1 15-oz can kidney beans, plus juice
1 15-oz can medium, black olives, plus juice
1 c shell noodle, pre-cooked
parmesan cheese, grated
salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

Generously salt and pepper your stew meat. Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a large soup pot over medium to medium-high heat. Brown your meat - possibly in two batches to prevent it from "stewing".

Add in your onions, garlic and Italian seasonings and cook another 3-4 minutes until the onions are starting to soften.

Add in your broth, water, tomatoes, zucchini and carrots. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for at least 30 minutes and up to an hour.

Add your kidney beans, black olives (and pasta, if you did not pre-cook it) and cook at a high simmer for another 15 minutes. If you pre-cooked your pasta, add it to the mixture right before serving.

Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.

Ladle into shallow soup bowls. Top with parmesan cheese. Serve with some crusty bread and Caesar salad on the side. Enjoy....

Yield: One big pot full


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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


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


Have a wonderful weekend, my friends!



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

Appetizers, Apples and Antics on AM Northwest

The past week has gone....I don't know where. It vaporized. I don't know about you, but I'm having trouble staying on top of things. Luckily, as I've mentioned before, my sweetie has already started the Christmas shopping.

Thanks to a gentle reminder by my thoughtful mother and father, I realized I never posted the video from last week's AM Northwest segment. So, this is for you, Mom and Dad...and anyone else who may have an interest in learning about homemade applesauce and a tantalizing appetizer all made with seasonal ingredients. And, one last note, should you decide to view the following video....after viewing it himself, my sweetie showered me with all of the appropriate accolades just like a good husband should (whether they are true or not) and then, off-handedly remarked, "Lots of sound effects going on in this one." What can I say? With the way my brain operates these days, it's a wonder I can even string a sentence together, so when I'm at a loss for the appropriate word, I fill in with sounds.


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

Hope you all have a safe and Happy Halloween!

And, hopefully you're not like me, with a mouth full of canker sores already from raiding the Halloween candy I've stashed away from the kids. Wish someone would stash it away from me!

Cheers,
Carrie

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

Pita Pizzas, Precarious Parenting and Pam

"But Mom...everyone is going to be there," she says to you, not in an overly-emotional way but matter-of-factly,...slowly,...tinged with disappointment. (Almost echoing her younger brother's cries from the week before, "But Mom...everyone has one.") And you feel for her, you do. And channeling your 13-year-old-self, you know that you would want to be there too. But alas, you're not 13. You are a parent now. And sometimes this role of "parent" feels overwhelming. You feel a bit weary from constantly trying to guide your children into knowing what's appropriate to wear, to do, to say, to partake in, to buy. Knowing when to open the door just a little wider for them. And when to keep it pulled shut. And it's in those instances of feeling in your heart that the door should remain shut while your child is begging to open it more, that become the most trying. Especially, when it feels to her, that "everyone else's" doors have been opened.

And so you agonize...for days. Trying to make the right decision for this particular situation. At this particular age. In this particular decade. You call friends. You email other parents. You call more friends. You stay up late talking to your sweetie. And you remember back to when your father...or perhaps it was your mother...wisely said to you that as a parent you can only lay down the foundation. How the house gets built is up to your child. And so you check the foundation. You gather all the facts at hand. You summon up your own 40+ years of life experience and....you open the door just a little wider for your child.

After delivering her safely into the hands of another caring parent who has struggled with the same decision, you stare at the clock. You tick off in your mind where she should be when.  In an effort to keep your mind from running amok with all of the "What if?" scenarios involving your daughter, you check on your littlest one, move away from the clock and then, curl up on the couch with your sweetie and your 11-year old to watch a favorite show.

Sunday evening finds you all gathered around the kitchen table for your family dinner. The family dinner you always spice up just a little bit more than the usual weeknight meal. The warm, comforting smell of caramelized onions still lingers in the house even after the Pita Pizza appetizers topped with those onions have been devoured. All five of you now sit with steaming bowls of White Bean and Sausage Cassoulet in front of you and plates of salad greens, fennel and blue cheese to the side. You talk about your weekend. The football game. The lego "Skype date." The blustery weather. And in talking about the weekend, you realize that in your daughter's life, this opening of the door registered barely a ripple for her. And in a way, you almost feel relieved. Because in some strange way, this lack of jubilance, makes you feel like it was the right time to open the door.

Your boys are upstairs, all three of them, and you stand in the kitchen with your daughter. Both of you scraping the bottom of your goblets trying to mop up the last little bits of your Gingersnap-Caramel Pear Parfaits. Your daughter looks up from her goblet and says to you, "Thank you for letting me go......and thank you for wanting to keep me safe." And you look right at her and say, "Thank you for letting me do my job to keep you safe. You are so precious to me. I love you, sweetie." And she says, "I love you, too." And with that, you put the empty goblets in the dishwasher and set your mind on the week ahead.


Pita Pizzas with Caramelized Onions, Dried Cherries and Gruyère

I know that I've talked about Pam Anderson before, here and here, because she is the author of one of my all time favorite cookbooks, "How to Cook Without a Book." The other weekend, when I was in San Francisco, I had the incredible opportunity to meet in person not only Pam but her two delightful daughters as well. The three of them author the blog, "Three Many Cooks" and just recently Pam released a new cookbook entitled, "Perfect One-Dish Dinners." When she and her daughters asked some of us if we would cook from the book and then post a favorite dish, I didn't hesitate. How could I possibly refuse one of my all time favorite cookbook authors?

As I mentioned above in my little narrative, I made from her book the Pita Pizzas, her Cassoulet-Style Italian Sausages and White Beans, her Baby Greens with Fennel, Blue Cheese and Red Onion and for dessert, her decadent, Gingersnap-Caramel Pear Parfaits. Each one was scrumptious in its own right but the clear winner in our family (including a stray neighbor boy who was over playing legos) was the Pita Pizzas...although, the Pear Parfaits were a very close second. With the holidays on the horizon, I can't wait to set these appetizers out for guests. I can see mixing it up and using dried cranberries instead of the cherries or bits of browned pancetta. I did not soak the cherries in the kirsch since most of my "audience" was the under-21 bunch but I did add the cherries to the onions at about the 8 minute mark to soften them up.

Ingredients:

1 tbsp olive oil
1 large Spanish onion, halved and thinly sliced. (I used one of Oregon's Hermiston Sweet onions.)
3/4 dried cherries
2 tbsp kirsch (cherry brandy)
4 large (7-inch) pocket-less pitas (These are thicker than ordinary ones.)
2 c grated aged Gruyère cheese (about 5 oz.)

Directions:
Adjust rack to lower-middle position (in my oven, the middle position worked best) and heat oven to 450 degrees. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. And onion and cook, stirring frequently, until caramel brown, about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, heat cherries and kirsch in a small saucepan over low heat until cherries soften, 4 to 5 minutes. Or, to do what I did, skip this last step and add your cherries directly to the onions when the onions have about 2-3 minutes left to cook.

Scatter a portion of onions and cherries over each pita, then scatter over cheese. Bake until cheese melts and crust is golden brown and crisp, about 10 minutes. Cut each pita into 8 triangles and serve immediately.

Yield: 32

Spreading the Perfect One-Dish Dinner love, below are all of the other incredible posts, highlighting recipes from Pam's book. Each is beautiful and heartfelt. 

Dad Cooks Dinner

RecipeGirl

Art of Gluten-Free Cooking

My Baking Addiction

Wenderly

The Sensitive Pantry

What's Cooking Blog

Two Peas and Their Pod

What's Gaby Cooking

bell' alimento

SmithBites

My Favorite Everything

Food for My Family

Savor the Thyme

The Ivory Hut

Dine and Dish

Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef

Picky Palate

Tickled Red

She Wears Many Hats

What We're Eating

This Week for Dinner

Sugar Crafter

Good Life Eats

Steamy Kitchen on TLC

Rookie Moms

Kitchen Gadget Girl

How To: Simplify

Bluebonnets & Brownies
Celiacs in the House

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

A Creamy Tomato Soup and Our Humanity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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



Creamy Tomato Soup

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yield: A big pot full.


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

Zesty Salsa...and a Gift For One of You

"This may quite possibly be, the craziest thing you've ever done before leaving on a trip." (pause) "No...this IS the craziest thing you've ever done before leaving on a trip considering you need to be up by 4 am and you still haven't packed."

I was listening to my handsome guy as I lowered my jars of "zesty salsa" into their water bath and I knew he spoke the truth...but I couldn't help myself. No. This is how I operate. Sometimes I need a serious "fire lit" to get anything done and a few hours before leaving on a trip for 4 days without my family seemed like the perfect time to can salsa.

Ever since I had generously been invited to watch Chef Clark of Wildwood give a canning demonstration this summer, while at the same time dining on his fine cuisine, I have been intrigued to can. Canning is not my "department". The first (and last) time I canned anything was when I was a shiny, new bride. (A long, long time ago.) Interestingly, I canned salsa then too. The recipe called for worcestershire sauce. (Need I say more.) I never actually tasted that salsa but somehow felt confident enough to give it away to family and friends for Christmas. Curiously, no one ever said anything to me about it, especially things like, "I loved your salsa. It is to die for."

I've always left the canning up to my lovely, lovely mother. Upon arriving at our home for Christmas, she and my father will unload their boxes full of gifts. One of those boxes is always filled with gift bags. Sometimes they are homemade. Sewn from soft, Christmas-red fabric. Other times, they arrive in humble paper bags with ribbons cascading from their handles. Either way, those on the receiving end of this thoughtful gift can't help but reach into the bag, pull away the tissue paper and admire the gift she beholds. A jar of deep plum Blueberry Jam. Possibly a jar of downy, pale green Dilly Beans. And always, a jar of luminescent orange Pepper Jelly. The colors...so enchanting. The gift...so generous.

I had inspected the Heirloom tomatoes I had bought the week before at our farmer's market and I knew it was now or never. Not yesterday. Or two days ago. (That would be much too civilized and orderly.) No, it was right now. Now, when I should be making dinner. Now, when I should be packing. Now, when I should be printing out an excel spreadsheet with the who, what, where, when and why of "The Lives of Our Children" and a menu of dinner suggestions for the four days I would be gone in the hopes that they would eat more than pizza. Somehow I managed to pull my three jars out of their warm bath, set them on the counter, pack, get a healthy 4 hours of sleep, kiss my chickens good-bye while they slept and be whisked off in the middle of the night just in time to catch my plane to San Francisco.

Upon arriving home after my trip, hugs were given out all around. The loot I came home with was inspected. And then, I headed straight into the kitchen to check on my 11th hour project. There they were. Still sitting right where I had left them. Looking at those jars, they made me smile. I don't know. There was something so, so...wholesome about them. So...motherly. So..."hand-crafted." So...simple. And with their kaleidoscope of colors...so lovely. I pulled my little guy up on my lap, having desperately missed his hugs while I was gone, and admired my handiwork. There were only 3 of them. Not quite enough to go around to everyone for the holidays but even so, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. A minute or two went by before my littlest one motioned for me to come closer. Under the assumption that he, himself, was going to comment on the pretty jars, I had to quickly choke back the immediate rush of tears when he whispered in my ear, "Please don't move to China." (His small way of saying he missed me.)

Zesty Salsa...and a Gift for One of You, My Dear Friends

Now, I don't make it a habit to endorse anything that I haven't stumbled upon on my own. Or that I don't regularly use but the kind folks at Jarden Home Brands have generously offered to send one of you, my kind friends, a Ball Canning Discovery Kit...for free. And since technically, I have actually tried it out and found it to be quite the slick little kit, (especially for novice canners like me) who am I to turn down their thoughtful offer. I know that you all are a bit comment-shy which is fine, really...but in this instance, should you be interested in possibly receiving this gift, you'll need to leave me a comment below by Friday, October 15, with your name and email address. Recognizing that the comment feature here on blogger is not exactly "user friendly" here's a little tip: If you do not have a google account and have no desire to obtain one, choose the "anonymous" identity and then, in the body of your comment leave your name and email address. Sometimes the comment doesn't post right away and you'll need to hit "preview" first. I'll then put your names in a hat and have my littlest guy pull one out to determine the benefactor of this here gift.

One last request, since I'm new to canning, should you happen to be leaving me a comment below, I'm curious what you might be canning. If you've been canning for a long time, what is your favorite food to can? If you're just trying it out for the first time, what are you anxious to try?

If you're a canning pro and simply want the recipe, I've typed it up below. I did actually taste this salsa and "Yum!" So delicious. I think "Zesty" is the perfect name for this salsa with it's bright and lively mingling of flavors. The only change I made to the original recipe was to switch out green peppers for red. Other than that I stayed with the "tried and true" recipe to avoid a little thing called...botulism.

Ingredients:

5 c chopped, cored, peeled tomatoes (approx 10 medium)

2 1/2 cups chopped seeded green bell peppers (I used red.)

2 1/2 c chopped onions (approx 1 lg or 2 med)

1 1/4 c chopped, seeded chili peppers (hot banana, Hungarian, etc.)

2/3 c cider vinegar

1 garlic clove, finely chopped

1 tbsp finely chopped cilantro

1 1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp hot pepper sauce, optional

Directions:

Prepare your gear by washing you jars, lids and bands in hot, soapy water. Rinse well. Keep jars warm until ready to use to reduce risk of jars breaking when filled with hot food. You can heat them in a pot of simmering water or in a heated dishwasher.

Fill a stockpot that is at least 7 1/2 inches tall and 9 1/2 inches in diameter with enough water to cover jars with at least 1 inch of water and heat to a simmer.

Combine tomatoes, green (red) peppers, onions, chili peppers, vinegar, garlic, cilantro, salt and hot pepper sauce (optional), in a large stainless steel saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly. Reduce heat and boil gently, stirring frequently, until slightly thickened, about 10 minutes.

Ladle hot salsa into jars, leaving a 1/2 inch headspace between the food and the rim of the jar. Remove air bubbles by sliding a small, non-metallic spatula inside the jar and gently pressing food against the opposite side of the jar. Re-measure headspace. If needed, add more salsa to meet the 1/2 inch headspace recommendation. Wipe rim; center lid on jar. Screw band until fingertip-tight.

Place filled jars into canning rack, then lower into stockpot of simmering water, ensuring jars are covered by 1 inch of water. Put lid on pot. Heat to steady boil and boil for 20 minutes. Remove stockpot lid. Wait 5 minutes, then remove jars and allow to cool for at least 12 hours. Press on center of cooled lid. If jar is sealed, the lid will NOT flex up or down. Whoo! Hoo! You've just canned. You can store your jars of zesty salsa in a pantry for up to 1 year.

Enjoy...

Yield: 3 pint-sized jars of salsa

PS: Truth be told...you could also bag the whole canning aspect of this recipe and simply enjoy this "zesty salsa" fresh from the pot. (Well, maybe let it cool down a bit, but you know what I mean.)

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

Spring Cleaning Scramble

The flurry of activity from the weekend is over. Everyone is back to his corner of the city for the weekly routine. I absentmindedly reach over to pick up a pair of scissors jutting out from under the couch. I walk over to the set of drawers with the fading labels and pull on the handle of the one marked, "scissors, hole punch and stapler." Inside I find clay, glue, oil pastels, crayons, tape, a pencil and a bell, but not one pair of scissors until I deposit the ones I'm holding. With a bit of a sigh, I push the drawer back in and recall a time when those drawers actually held exactly what appeared on the labels...back when I cared. Back when I was known to stay up until one or two in the morning, organizing, purging, labeling, cleaning, painting, rearranging. I think it's safe to say that my sweetie is a very...very...patient man. Actually, I take that back. He's not patient at all. Perhaps it's that he is wise to the ways of women and knows when to stand back and let me work through the frenzy.

I pull up my email in-box and wait for the new messages to load. Glancing down the list, the one entitled, "Spring Cleaning: Day One" catches my eye. I open it up, glance at the thoughtful advice and then, promptly delete it. I can't even keep up with regular cleaning. The thought of "spring cleaning" just overwhelms me. I recently confessed to my mother, my sister and one of my oldest, dearest friends who is a frequent guest in my home that the impendence of their arrival no longer spurs on a flurry of home projects. Where before there would be flowers and decorations reflecting the seasons along with a well-scrubbed house, now, well....oh sure, I clean the toilets (I have boys after all) and I may do a quick little sweep of the kitchen floor, make the beds and fluff a pillow or two but after that, it's more like, "Good to see ya. Here's a glass of wine. Let's sit and chat."

You know, the great irony is that my home may no longer be the pristinely clean and perfectly organized place that it once was but I find I'm more relaxed (which means my sweetie is more relaxed.) I enjoy my time with my guests more. Maybe it's that spring seems to come more quickly with each passing year (Didn't we just pull all of these spring weeds?), and I recognize that I must decide exactly how I want to spend my time. And, I've decided that I want to spend my time with my guests enjoying a home cooked meal, a glass of wine and their company.

Looking for inspiration for the evening's dinner, I pull out the crisper drawers in the fridge. Still having the "spring cleaning" article on the brain (old habits die hard), I recognize that the contents of these drawers could use a little purging. Grabbing the bundle of asparagus that is a bit past its prime, a half a shallot, some potatoes rolling around in the back, some eggs, a couple cloves of garlic and a bag of mushrooms from last weekend's Farmer's Market and drawing on the recollection of a favorite "Egg Scramble" I loved at a diner in Eureka, California....I whip up my own "Spring Cleaning Scramble" and place it on the table for dinner along with some toasted, day-old bread. As we inhale the medley of spring flavors, we chat about our day. What's coming up in the week. And, for some unknown reason we seem to linger a little longer at the table than usual. It's then that I decide that this is the kind of spring cleaning I love. The kind I can handle. The rest of it....eh....

Spring Cleaning Scramble
While I confess that I am not a huge "egg person," I do love this dish which can be made with any veggies you may have lying around in your fridge....peppers, broccoli, zucchini, tomatoes....you name it....scramble it up. This particular evening I made this with mushrooms but I've also made it without them and it was lapped up just as quickly (maybe even more quickly by certain family members.) Also, I find that there is nothing like potatoes browned in a cast iron pan but for a weeknight, I'm picky about how much clean-up I have to do. For these potatoes, I followed Pam Anderson's inspiration for using a non-stick pan and her steam/saute method of cooking them up. I hope this recipe will inspire you to do a little spring cleaning of your own refrigerator to make room for all the berries that are just about to hit the markets.

Ingredients:
4 tbsp olive oil, divided below
a bundle of asparagus with "tough" ends trimmed off (or snapped off like I do)
1 small onion, quartered, white, yellow, red, whatever you have
1/2 lb of shiitake mushrooms (optional)
2 c diced, fingerling potatoes, Yukon Gold or any other thin-skinned potatoes you have lying around
1/2 shallot, chopped (or 1/4 c onion)
2 garlic cloves, sliced
kosher salt and pepper
3 tbsp water
8 eggs (two per person)
3 tbsp milk
1 tsp butter (optional)

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. While your oven is heating, prepare your asparagus, onion and mushrooms. Lay them in a single layer on a cookie sheet or two. Drizzle a tbsp or two of olive oil over your vegetables. Using your hands (or tongs) mix them around to ensure that they are coated with the olive oil but not drenched in it. Laying them back out in a single layer, sprinkle them well with kosher salt and pepper. Put them in your heated oven to roast for 15 -20 minutes, stirring halfway through. You want the asparagus browned but not blackened, tender but not mushy.

While your vegetables are roasting, prepare your potatoes, shallot and garlic. Place them in a non-stick skillet, along with 2 tbsp olive oil, 3 tbsp water and a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Cover and steam over medium-high heat until the potatoes are just tender about 2-3 minutes. Remove the lid and continue to cook until the liquid evaporates and the potatoes are lightly browned about 6-8 minutes longer.

While your potatoes are cooking, prepare your eggs by cracking them into a medium bowl and lightly beating them along with the 3 tbsp of milk. (Don't ask me why but I always put a bit of milk in my scrambled eggs.) Sprinkle in some salt and pepper.

Once your potatoes are done, spoon them into a bowl, tent with foil and set aside. Turning the heat to low, add one tsp of butter to your already warm skillet (or forgo the butter and just rely on the magic of the non-stick surface.) Once melted, add your eggs. Allow the eggs to set slightly on the bottom and then, cook on the lowest heat, stirring almost constantly. Although, I would take a second here to pop that day-old bread into the toaster. Cook the eggs to your desired doneness...usually 3-4 minutes for me. They continue to cook even after you've turned off the stove.

At this point, it's time to ring the dinner bell and call the troops to the table. On a side note, I did recently acquire a cow bell just for this purpose. No one seemed to pay any attention to me before when I called everyone to the dinner table after slaving away over a hot stove. It's amazing how the extremely loud, incessant and annoying sound of the cow bell seems to bring everyone to the table...quickly...even those people trying to hide from me in the woods. Once they've arrived, hand everyone a plate, tell them to load up with the veggies, potatoes and eggs and mix-it all up on their plates. Toss them each a piece of toast, set some salt and pepper on the table and you're good to go.  Dinner....check. Refrigerator cleaned out...check. Family fed...check. Dishes...pending.

Yield: Enough to feed a family of 4 and one person who still insists on eating like a bird

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

Ginger & Garlic Stir-Fry to Mark a Moment in Time

I flip open the familiar sheet music, time and time again, pounding out the theme from The Young and The Restless Nadia's Theme on the piano. Having recently watched Nadia score the first perfect 10 ever in gymnastics at the Montreal Olympics, I am just sure that will be me one day. As I play the music, I can see myself accepting the gold medal. Weeping. For my country. My fans. Nevermind that when I did finally manage to land a back handspring a few years later, I broke my arm and that was the end of my gymnastic career.

My father arranges us just perfectly. Taller ones in back. Smaller in front. The handmade Noel sign as part of the background. My sister and I in matching cream colored dresses and matching Dorothy Hamill hairdos, posing for the yearly Christmas picture. Even my sweet little brother's blond hair gives a nod to the famous "doo". Each night I ever so carefully wrap my brown locks up in the pink foam curlers to keep the "undercurl" going day after day. I never could figure out how to get rid of that dratted kink that preceded each curl. Dorothy never seemed to have that problem. But, kinks and all, I smile proudly.

Starving, we dash anonymously across the street for some Chinese take-out. We chuckle that only minutes ago we had entered the hotel with all eyes upon us. He, ever so handsome in his black tuxedo, and me, in the infamous white dress. The one my mother wore on her wedding day. The one with the beautiful fitted lace (or at least, fitted for her.) The one that cried out desperately for some type of support in the brassiere department and yet, not a single "fyi" from dear friends and family before walking down the aisle and so....the sagging will be forever documented. We hop up on the bed with our take-out boxes and watch as Kristi Yamaguchi skates into history with her gold medal in Albertville, France.

We make the hour-long drive from Lake Annecy twice, determined to make it to the top of Mont Blanc. The first day it's covered in clouds and all rides to the top are closed. The second go around, the mountain is out in all her glory. We leave Nana and the baby at the bottom. No children under 3 are allowed. The air is too thin at the top. We hop on the gondola with a nervous glance toward my father-in-law. Up, up, up we ride. Paragliders sail past us. We leave the timberline behind in our gentle wake. Alighting on the platform, we take in the ominous view of the jagged, powerful alps. I watch as my father-in-law looks down at Chamonix - the site of the first Winter Olympics in 1924 - so far below us. We snap photo after photo of what was to be our last big trip with him...and for that, I am so grateful.

I stand at the stove, quickly stir-frying my carrots, my broccoli, my peppers. I ask myself if this is a proper dinner to mark 18-years together. I ponder on what it means to be married this long and how we arrived here so quickly. "Mom, come on! The Olympics are on!" Breaking my own steadfast rule of "No eating in the living room.", we each balance a plate of nutty brown rice topped with crisply, stir-fried vegetables on our laps, watching the TV in anticipation of who will forever mark a moment in time for us. My sweetie happily eating his most requested dish from my repertoire. The one he always wolfs down and remarks afterwards, "Mmm, that was a good batch, wasn't it?" The one in which I can never cheat and try to use a bottled sauce. He always knows it wasn't mine. And, just to see him, enjoying his dinner, surrounded by his family, with the 2010 Winter Olympics on the television, I decide that it's the perfect dinner to celebrate our years together.

Ginger & Garlic Stir-Fry to Mark a Moment in Time

This truly is my guy's most requested dish. The one he would eat over and over again, night after night, if I didn't find stir-fry to sometimes be a little too much work for a weeknight. But, this weeknight, in honor of 18 years together, I happily fix him his favorite. Now, if you haven't made the switch to brown rice, let me just give it a little plug. Yes, it takes a little bit longer to cook...but, it leaves you so much more satisfied. It's much more fulfilling, in the literal sense, and when you are trying to feed teens and pre-teens who seem to have a never-ending appetite, you want them as full as possible, as often as possible. As for the veggies, I tend to mix-it-up with whatever is in-season. Sometimes I may only use two vegetables and sometimes I go all out and use 4 or so....everything from broccoli to peppers to carrots to celery to snow peas to bean sprouts to bok choy to green onions to Chinese cabbage...really the list is endless. I mean, what vegetable doesn't taste scrumptious with a bit of olive oil, a sprinkle of salt and a quick turn in a hot pan?

Ingredients:

1 tbsp olive oil or canola oil

1 tsp soy sauce

salt & pepper

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized strips

3 tbsp cooking sherry

2 tbsp soy sauce

1 tbsp water

1 tsp corn starch

1 sm red onion, peeled, halved from "pole to pole" and then cut into wedges

2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced

1 tbsp ginger root, peeled & minced or finely grated

2 med carrots, peeled and julienned

1 red pepper, stemmed, seeded and cut into 1/2 inch strips

1 head of broccoli, cut into florets (I pop mine in the microwave with a bit of water for 2 minutes to "parboil" them. They seem to work out better in a stir-fry this way.)

more olive oil or canola oil for cooking

brown rice

Let your brown rice cook as listed on the package while you make the stir-fry.

Slice your chicken breasts up and toss in a bowl with 1 tbsp oil, 1 tsp soy sauce and pinch of salt and pepper. Set aside.

Whisk together the sherry, the soy sauce, the water and the corn starch in a small bowl. Set aside, keeping your whisk handy for later.

Mince the ginger and the garlic. Place in a small bowl and set aside.

Place a heavy bottomed skillet over low heat while you chop up your vegetables. A few minutes before stir-frying, turn up the heat to high and turn your exhaust fan on.

Prepare all of your vegetables as listed above. Put them on a large plate, keeping them separate.

When you are ready to start cooking, make sure you have everything else taken care of - drinks, utensils and homework questions out of the way - because you cannot leave your post once you start stir-frying or your veggies will have burned bits on them and I don't know about you but my children won't eat burned bits...not even microscopic ones.

When you are ready, heat a tbsp of oil in your skillet, swirling it around to coat the pan. Add 1/2 of your chicken and stir-fry until seared and just cooked, about 2-3 minutes. Transfer to a clean bowl and tent with foil. Add the second half of your chicken to the skillet, adding to the bowl when cooked.

Add another 1-2 tbsp of oil to your hot skillet. Add the onion and stir-fry until browned but still crisp, about 1 minute. Add your garlic and ginger, stir to combine with onions. Then, add your carrots and stir-fry 1 -2 minutes. Add your red peppers and continue stir-frying for another 1-2 minutes. Add your "parboiled" broccoli and saute until all the vegetables are tender crisp, 1-2 minutes longer. Return the chicken to the skillet.

Push the veggies and chicken to the sides of the pan creating a circle in the center. Grab your bowl of sauce, giving it a quick whisk, and then, pour into your circle. Let the sauce just start to bubble and then, mix it together with your chicken and your vegetables. Serve immediately with warm, nutty brown rice. Enjoy.

NOTE 1: For a vegetarian version, simply omit the first four ingredients.

NOTE 2: A long time ago I read somewhere about keeping your ginger root in the freezer. It lasts longer this way. It's easy to peel and can be grated up on a fine grater in a snap which is what I've done ever since receiving this tip.

Yield: Serves 4 regular eaters and 1 eater who is currently eating like a bird.

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

Lentil Soup for a Blustery Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lentil Soup for a Blustery Day

(Adapted from Ina Garten’s Lentil Sausage Soup)

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

1/8 c olive oil

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

2 leeks, chopped, white and light green parts only

2 large garlic cloves, minced

1 tsp salt

¾ tsp black pepper

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

1 tsp cumin

2 c diced celery

2 c diced carrots

3 quarts chicken broth

¼ c tomato paste OR a 15 oz can diced tomatoes

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

2 tbls dry red wine or red wine vinegar, optional

Freshly grated Parmesan cheese for serving.

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

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

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

Yield: About 8 to 10 servings

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

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

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009