Chicken Marinara or Dinner from a Bottle and a Bag

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

salt and pepper

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

Directions
Pre-heat your oven to 425 degrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy.

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

...

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Potato Corn Chowder

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

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

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

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

Add in your garlic and sauté another minute.

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

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

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

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

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


Yield: One big pot-full


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


...


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




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

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

Peas and Carrots, Carrots and Peas Spring Soup

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Watching from the shadows as your children grow up.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy....

Yield: One big pot-full

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


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


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


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


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

BEFORE

AFTER

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



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

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

Hazelnut and Parmesan Matchsticks

The first word that comes to mind is scraggy. Well, that and bedhead. The four-year-old kind of bedhead where they’ve tried to smooth down the front of their hair with some water but left the tufts around the crown sticking straight up. Trying to appear stately but still rather rumpled. Besides that, I’ve never given the tree much thought. I guess there was the year I decided to prune its scraggy branches to form the shape of an umbrella. A fort for the kids. Oh, the irony. I’ve looked at that tree, day-in, day-out, from my kitchen window for seven years, through its green lushness of summer and its nakedness of winter, but never really noticed it.

A few weeks back, the mother of my beautiful neighbor, Farzaneh, happened to catch my eye as she was standing under a similar tree. A tree very much like mine. Scraggy and at the edge of the forest. She peered up into its leaves. I thought perhaps she was watching the darling songbirds that inhabit our trees here or the squirrels who use it like a jungle gym. She visits here from Persia 3-4 months at a time and although we do not speak a common language, we smile, we wave and there’s something comforting in that. I like it when she’s here. She didn’t last long outside before she disappeared but I noticed that she returned each day to the foot of the tree. My curiosity was peaked.

One early evening, as we were rounding up our children to come inside for dinner, I inquired of Farzaneh what it was her Mother was watching in the tree. “Hazelnuts. She’s looking for hazelnuts. It’s a hazelnut tree.” I was stunned. Of course, I am aware that Oregon grows almost 100% of the hazelnuts produced in the United States but still, a hazelnut tree, right here? Not a tree that someone consciously planted but one that appeared out of nowhere like a weed? When I think of hazelnuts, I think of desserts in swanky restaurants. The way that adding the word “hazelnut” to a recipe immediately increases its importance. The way the French put hazelnuts in everything. The “nut of royalty.” For such an upper-class nut you would think that the tree which produces it would be more...aristocratic and not so…scraggy. I just couldn’t believe I’d never noticed it before. Perhaps the hazelnuts on the ground could have been a clue.

I spent the next few days after my illumination researching the proper way to harvest hazelnuts, which involves…shaking the tree, gathering the nuts, peeling away the husks, and allowing them to cure for 4 weeks. Then, cracking them, peeling them and roasting them. And, in the end I decided to leave all of that to the experts. I would leave my nuts to the squirrels and their incessant chatter. They had, after all, discovered the bounty long before I did. Now, when I gaze out at the tree from my kitchen window, I have to wonder what else I’ve been looking at everyday but haven’t really seen?

Hazelnut and Parmesan Matchsticks

(adapted from Allumettes Noisette Thym by Clotilde Dusoulier)

If you haven’t happened upon Clotilde Dusoulier’s blog, Chocolate and Zucchini, you must check it out. Equally as charming is her first cookbook of the same name, Chocolate & Zucchini. (All in her beautifully written English, I might add.) This is one of her recipes I have wanted to try. Delicious! Would be perfect as an appetizer during the upcoming holidays especially when paired with a dry, white wine or a glass of champagne. Or, you can do as my children did, and devour them straight down with a mug of warm Ovaltine.

1 c all-purpose flour

5 tbls chilled, unsalted butter, cut into small cubes

6 tbls freshly grated Parmesan

¾ c shelled, roasted hazelnuts, very finely chopped (skin-on is okay) I like Freddy Guys hazelnuts.

1 tsp dried thyme or 4 tsp fresh thyme, minced

1 tsp fleur de sel, sea salt or kosher salt

1 large egg

1 large egg yolk for glazing

To roast the hazelnuts, heat your oven to 350 degrees. Spread your hazelnuts in a single layer on a cookie sheet. Roast for 10 minutes, stirring once, halfway through.

In a large bowl, rub the flour and butter together until the mixture forms coarse crumbs. Add the cheese, hazelnuts, thyme and ½ tsp of the salt. Blend well. Add the egg and blend it in with a fork. Once the egg is absorbed, knead the dough lightly until it comes together and forms a ball. It should be smooth enough to be rolled out: if it is too dry, add a little cold water, teaspoon by teaspoon, until it reaches the desired consistency.

Divide the dough into two balls, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for 30 minutes, or up to a day. (If refrigerated for more than 2 hours, remove it from the fridge for about 15 minutes before you use it, or it will be too hard to work with.)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Roll out one ball of dough, thinly, on a well-floured surface to form a rectangle approximately 6 by 8 inches and 1/6 inch thick. Beat the egg yolk with 1 tbls of water in a small bowl. Brush over the rectangle of dough and sprinkle with ¼ tsp salt or do what I did and just crack your salt grinder over the top of the dough a few times.

Cut the dough into strips approximately 6 inches long and ½ inch wide. Transfer strips onto prepared baking sheet, leaving ½ inch of space between them. Repeat with the second ball of dough.

Bake for 13-16 minutes, until golden. Transfer dough to a rack to cool completely. They will keep for a week in an airtight container at room temperature.

For a “pressed-for-time” variation: Shape the dough into two logs (about 1 inch in diameter), put in the freezer for 15 minutes, slice thinly to form round crackers and follow baking instructions above.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009