Une Petite Pomme: My 7 Minutes of Fame....Sort Of....

Thanks to a dear, sweet friend from high school and a thoughtful producer at AM Northwest who took pity on me kindly invited me to be a guest on the show, La Pomme made her television debut last night cooking up "Peas and Pancetta in a Flash." For those of you who are not from Portland, here in our fine City of Roses, we are fortunate enough to have our very own hour-long morning show. Having been on the air since 1976, most of us Portlanders have sat in the AM Northwest audience at one time or another. We all think quite fondly of this show. (I always think of my Granny when I use that word...fondly. She preferred to sign her cards that way: "Fondly, Granny") Currently, AM Northwest is being hosted by the very funny, Dave Anderson, and darling, Helen Raptis.

Now, you may be perplexed as to why La Pomme was on AM Northwest last night, since the name implies a morning show. Well, without getting into the nitty gritty, the "powers that be" currently air the first half hour in the morning and then, the first and second half hour in the evening under the name of AM Northwest Primetime, but the whole thing is shot in the morning which, for those of you who know my morning habits, getting there...on-time...wide-awake...and actually thinking clearly...early yesterday morning was quite the challenge for me...but I did it....(thanks to a lot of back-up help from my sweetie.) And yes, of course, I was a bit nervous. Nervous about the fact that when I get nervous I tend to laugh...loudly...and tell bad jokes because I think I'm funny. And, I was nervous about the timing since I was invited to cook on the show and I needed to have an edible meal that really takes about 30 minutes to make, ready to eat in 6 minutes. To my relief, after I arrived...on-time mind you...I was ushered back-stage and right up to my very own cooking island. There I could set-up and cook away to my heart's content and then, the whole kit and kaboodle was wheeled on-stage when it was my turn. Can I say that I've never actually made pasta without being interrupted and even had time to stir it a few times while I watched it cook? I almost started whistling.

The actual time I was on-camera was an absolute blur. I remembered nothing that I said or did so I was quite anxious to watch the debut myself. At 6:45 pm, my family gathered around the television and waited. As we watched the final minutes of the lead-in show...a movie in which the main characters wore mullets that would put Billy Ray Cyrus' to shame...I had a sudden curiosity about the actual viewership of my debut here on Comcast Channel 302...but that quickly vanished as Dave Anderson appeared on the screen welcoming people to AM Northwest. With rapt attention, we watched the exercise segment, the book review segment, the ceramics show segment and all of the advertisements for the Japanese Gardens, assisted living centers and car dealerships out on SE McLoughlin. I knew my time was drawing near and I suddenly started to panic, "Had I itched my nose on-camera? Will it end up looking like a "pick"?" And then, there was Dave Anderson saying, "Our next guest writes a popular local blog about the mingling of food, family and life...." and I was on. I'll let you be the judge of how I did but I do have two thoughts, "Lose the sweater next time." And, I can already hear my kind, sweet mother saying, "Sweetie, stand up a little straighter next time....and maybe get the bangs out of your eyes." We never stop being a mother, do we?




Thank you so much, Julie and Tammy, for making this opportunity happen for La Pomme and since it appears that I didn't pick my nose, I'm hoping you'll invite me back.


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

A Delightful Spring Birthday Soup

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

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

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

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

A Delightful Spring Birthday Soup

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

Ingredients:

2 tbsp olive oil

2 leeks, thinly sliced

3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

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

1/2 c white wine

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

1 cup fresh or frozen petite peas

1 tsp kosher salt

optional: top with minced, fresh chives or minced parsley

Directions:

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

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

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

Peas and Pancetta in a Flash

So, it had been one of those weeks. You know the kind. The kind where the baby, trying to make use of his limited vocabulary, hollers at his older brother in peak frustration, “Just…just…just go put your head in the potty!” and then storms out of the room, leaving the 10-year old to shrug his shoulders and mutter, “Good dis, pal…real good dis.”

The kind of week where in the middle of the costume store, not but 24-hours before the big day, you have to inform your eldest son that no, you weren’t kidding when you told him he couldn’t get the mask with the blood pumping through it because you find that there is something inherently wrong with it. “But, Mom, all my friends have that mask. It’s so cool.” “Well, then, I guess you’ll be something original.”

The kind of week where your daughter has seconds to spare if she’s going to make the bus and you have but seconds to spare to make it to your godforsaken annual doctor’s appointment and she flies down the stairs headed for the front door wearing a masterpiece of fashion know-how that clearly took hours to put together, and you can’t help it. You even try to stop yourself because it’s just so…so…textbook but somehow you hear yourself saying, “Wait a minute, sweetie. You can’t wear that to school. Your skirt is too short.” And she looks at you, aghast, and replies, “But, Mom, everyone wears skirts like this.” And you know that you have truly been anointed a mother when you hear yourself say to her in return, “Well, not you. Go change and make it quick.”

The kind of week that found your sweetie trying to save his favorite chair at three in the morning from the cat who sat poised on it ready to cough up not just a hairball but what appeared to be his entire innards

The kind of week where you begin to wonder if you are stuck in a remake of Groundhog Day since every time you look around you find yourself in your car. “Here I am driving.” “Here I am, still driving.” “Wasn’t I just driving?” “Gads, I’m gripping this steering wheel again.” “Somebody help me. I’m driving again.” “I’m driving again and this same dang song keeps playing every time I’m in here.” “Ahhrrrgh….somebody save me from this car!” And you find yourself wanting to pull over to the side of the road and huck the CD with the song that you used to love on it, but now can’t stand, into the bushes.

And then, without warning, you come upon it. This little bit of frozen time. Where the road behind you has slipped away beyond the bend and the road in front of you is hidden by the horizon and there you are, fully in the moment. All thoughts of masks and skirts and heads in potties and what’s for dinner disappear and you are taken aback by the way the sun filters through the leaves. The way the branches arch over the road so you and your car feel as though you’re slipping through an arbor. An arbor leading somewhere magical. And then, just as quickly as you came upon it, the moment is gone and your mind fills back up with the static humming of life’s busyness. But, in that moment, your mind was able to clear a tiny spot. A tiny spot to remind you to breathe, to slow down over the bumps and that Peas and Pancetta are good on a night when you are out of time.

Peas and Pancetta in a Flash

(Adapted from Farfelle with Peas and Pancetta, Gourmet, June 1999)

4 cups frozen petite peas 

2 tbls olive oil

¼ - 1/3 lb pancetta, diced

2 large shallots

1 lb dried bowtie (farfelle) pasta

salt and pepper, optional

freshly, grated Parmesan cheese

Fill a large, pasta pot three fourths full with water and bring to a boil for peas and pasta.

Cook frozen peas in boiling water until tender, about 2 minutes, and with a slotted spoon transfer to a colander and spray with cold water to stop the cooking. Do Not drain the water from the pot.

In a large, heavy skillet, heat oil until hot but not smoking and cook pancetta in oil, stirring occasionally, until golden brown and edges are crisp, about 8-10 minutes. Now, at this point, I usually take my pancetta out of the skillet and drain it in a paper towel lined bowl. Then, I give the skillet a once over wipe with a paper towel, drizzle a little bit more olive oil in and then, add the pancetta back in along with my shallots. I do this because I'd rather cook with olive oil than bacon grease, but you could skip all of this and just add your shallots into the skillet when your pancetta is done cooking. Once, you've added your shallots, cook them, stirring occasionally, until just tender about 3-4 minutes.

While your pancetta is cooking you can return the water in pot to a boil. Cook pasta according to directions on package. Before you drain your cooked pasta, reserve 1 cup of pasta water. Drain pasta in colander and add it to your finished pancetta mixture with the peas, ¼ cup reserved pasta water and salt and pepper to taste. (I find that this recipe doesn’t need any added salt and pepper, but that’s just my preference.) Heat mixture over low heat, gently tossing (and adding more pasta water as needed if mixture becomes dry), until just heated through.

Serve pasta with your freshly, grated Parmesan cheese.

While I have made this recipe exactly as written before, some nights I don’t bother with the mixing it all together with the reserved pasta water that I forgot to reserve and I just have the troops scoop up their pasta and put the peas and pancetta on separately. On this particular night, I also happened to serve this dish with a cornucopia of fall fruit: persimmon, pomegranate, pears and apples. What did the children think of the persimmon you might ask? Not much.

Yield: Enough for a family of 5 with a bit leftover…perfect for a thermos in a lunchbox the next day.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009