Cherry Tomato and Asparagus Summer Salad on AM Northwest

So, my dear friends, this week has been filled with milestones, celebrations and a few tears on the part of yours truly. One headed to high school, one to middle school and one leaving that sweet, sweet year of Kindergarten and as I've said before every first for my littlest one is a monumental last for me. To say, "last day of Kindergarten" is a bit extra-emotional for me. Me, the weeper.

I'm sure you will understand when I say that I won't have one of my usual musings post this week. My time this week is being spent with family but I do leave you with a live version of a delicious summer salad I posted on La Pomme last July. Toss in a little chicken, some leftover grilled steak or serve it on the side of your grilled salmon. A perfect summer meal!!

Cherry Tomato and Asparagus Salad

Brought to life on AM Northwest

Click here for the recipe. (It's the second recipe...although the first one is good too!)

If a video screen does not appear above this line, click here to be taken directly to the site.


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

Strawberries in a Salad and Siblings Who Skip

It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.  -Dylan Thomas, Welsh poet

"Mom, it's so embarrassing! Do you know what he does all day at school?"

"No, please tell me."

"He skips."

"Well, he's in kindergarten."

"Well, it's embarrassing. My WHOLE class was lined up to go into the gym and guess who came out of the bathroom and skipped past my WHOLE class and all the way down the hall?"

This eldest son of mine then proceeds to go through a litany of infractions committed by his younger brother. "He makes weird noises. He hums. He kicks my seat. He takes my Lego guys without asking. He follows me around at recess with his hands like binoculars. He barks at me with those stuffed dogs. And...he skips!"

I did not grow up with brothers. Brothers, plural, that is. I have a brother. My "little" brother. He had the distinct honor of providing me with a worthy subject on which to practice my mothering skills. And that was just it. I was more "Mommy Jr" to him than sibling rival. And so now, when confronted with this up-close sibling rival between brothers, I sometimes feel at a loss of what to do.

"Just stop it!! Stop it!!"

Hearing the screams and crying from the garage, I leave the kitchen (where I've been trying to make and eat a quick salad for lunch) and head out to investigate. Upon seeing me, the kindergartner cries out, pointing in the direction of his older brother, "He threw a basketball at my legs."

In defense the 5th grader shoots back, "Yeah well, I wasn't even doing anything and he did this to me." He then proceeds to put his thumbs in his ears, wiggle his fingers and stick out his tongue. Choking back a smile, I said to myself, "I thought they only did that on TV." But judging by the way the 6-year old was covering his guilty face with his arms, apparently my children do that as well.

Both boys looked at me as if to say some justice must be done. Not sure what to do, I thought back to a peace-making method my elder son's kindergarten teacher used to use and I enact my own version of it.

"Okay boys, come here. Closer. Face each other. Hold each other's hands."

"No."

"Hold each other's hands and look at each other."

The 11-year old rolls his eyes and begrudgingly grabs his brother's hands. The littler one opens his eyes wide like a zombie, grabs his brother's hands and then, proceeds to jump up and down, over and over, like a kangaroo.

"Now I want you to compliment each other. Say something kind about your brother."

This is not a new concept to them. During our family dinners on Sundays (when they actually happen) we take turns complimenting other family members. I can usually count on the 11-year old to come up with a little gem about his siblings.

"Come on guys. we're not leaving til you say something kind to each other."

"He's not holding my hand," cries out the little one.

"Stop jumping! That's so weird," the older one shoots back.

Finally, there is a moment of calm and a bit of silence. I can see the older brother gathering his thoughts and the littler one, no longer jumping but still wide-eyed, not knowing what to say.

"C'mon. Surely you can think of something," I say, looking at the older brother, hoping he'll set a good example.

"Okay, okay," says the older one as he gathers himself together. And then, looking deep into his little brother's eyes, he says with all sincerity, "Brother....your farts don't stink."

The little one's eyes grow even bigger, he starts jumping again and with a huge smile on his face, he fires back, "Yeah, well.....your poop doesn't stink!"

They both start cracking up. I try to stifle my smile, throw my hands up in defeat and head inside to finally eat my lunch, muttering, "Boys."

While I sit at the kitchen table enjoying the first of this season's strawberries, my eldest son walks through the kitchen and I say to him, "You know, you'll never be in school with him again...in your whole life. You two could grow up to be best of friends but it depends on how you treat each other now. You're going to miss having him around next year."

He continues walking past me but I can tell he's listening.

At the foot of the stairs, he says back to me, "I know I'll miss him."

And then further up the stairs, "But I won't miss the skipping!"

...


A Strawberry, Hazelnut, and Goat Cheese Salad Drizzled with a Bit of Balsamic Vinaigrette

I have been reading about pairing sweet, luscious strawberries with piquant balsamic vinegar for quite sometime now and I thought it would be fun to try them out in a salad together. Sprinkle on some tangy goat cheese and nutty hazelnuts and you've got a salad fit for a Queen....or at least fit to keep you seated long enough to ponder on the intricacies of sibling rivalry and what to do about it.

I also show in the the photos above a clay ramekin from the talented guys & gals over at Olympic Provisions. Last weekend at the Farmer Market, they had kindly given me a ramekin of their homemade rillette to try on the baguette I was carrying around in my bag. I had never, knowingly, tried rillette. If you're curious to learn more, here's a wonderful post by the über-talented Matt Wright describing how to make and how to eat pork rillette. Once I figured out that I should bring it to room temperature and mix it all together (as opposed to just scraping the cold fat off the top), I discovered a luscious, rich meaty spread, perfect on a little piece of bread. Thank you, Olympic Provisions!

Ingredients:
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp shallot, minced (optional)
pinch o' salt
2-3 tbsp olive oil
couple handfuls of baby greens
1/2 cup or so of sliced strawberries
a sprinkling of crumbled goat cheese (feta might be good too.)
a sprinkling of roasted hazelnuts (or walnuts, almonds, whatever nuts you have on hand and I don't mean your children)
freshly ground black pepper

Directions:
Combine your vinegar and shallots, if you're using shallots, in a small bowl and let rest for 5-10 minutes. If not using the shallots you can skip the "resting" part.

Add your salt and whisk together. Then slowly, while whisking, drizzle in your olive oil.

Place your baby greens on a plate. Top with the strawberries, the goat cheese and the nuts. Drizzle on the balsamic vinaigrette to your liking. Add a few cracks of black pepper and...voila!

A couple slices of bread with rillette (or butter...or just plain), a glass of sparkling water and with each mouthful of your delicious salad you'll be able to feel summer drawing near. I realize that that is near impossible for those of us in Portland seeing as we haven't even had a spring but, nonetheless, I suggest giving it a try. Enjoy....

...

Organizing Project
Rien. Nada. Nichts. Nic. Niente.

...

Question for You
I get approached, from time to time, by vendors offering me products and cooking supplies to giveaway to you kind people who read my musings. Some of them are a good fit (coffee, chocolate, kitchen gadgets, etc.,) others (Ugg knock-offs) not so much. I am headed to Atlanta next week for the BlogHer Food Conference where I will undoubtedly be hit-up for these kinds of "giveaways."  Because I try to be sensitive to the amount of email that lands in your in-box, especially those of you who are so incredibly generous to subscribe to La Pomme de Portland, I have hesitated doing too many of these.

But you tell me, "Would you like to have me do more giveaways...provided they are a good fit?"

You can let me know in the comments below or in an email or ping me on Facebook.

...

A New Look
And speaking of comments, I realize my "commenter" is cr---- (rhymes with pappy)....and not that I want you to feel obligated to comment but if you felt inclined to do so, it's almost impossible.

Well right now, behind the scenes, La Pomme de Portland is getting a face-lift. Part of this face-lift will include an easier way to comment/ask questions as well as an easy way to print the recipes or subscribe by email or search for recipes. And most importantly, hopefully it will just be easier to read.

If any of you have ever thought, "I sure wish Carrie would...." or "Why doesn't this....work better on Carrie's site?" or "Has Carrie ever considered...?" or  "I would like Carrie to post more about ...."

Please, please, feel free to send me your thoughts.


Thank you so much for reading!! You kind, sweet souls, taking time to read La Pomme....it makes me weep!


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Refreshing Grapefruit and Greens Salad

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

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


Ingredients:

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

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

Directions:

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

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

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

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



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


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

A Medley of Summer Salads

There they are. Like always. Pots of red, white and blue petunias and geraniums. A thoughtfully placed flag off to one side. They are the first thing I notice. The first thing I look for because isn't that what holidays are for? The expected. The traditions. The counted on. The nostalgic.

The same gathering of aunts  and uncles, nieces and nephews, grandparents, old family friends and exhausted, bleary-eyed mothers and fathers. The same annual volleyball tournament that always starts out so benignly and ends up with small children running for their lives and not a single adult admitting to his competitive nature. The same water fights that somehow bring out the eldest children's apparent knowledge of guerrilla warfare tactics.  The same passing stage of younger ones trying out "forbidden language" while hiding under an old dollhouse. "Hi, Mr. Poopyhead." "Hiya, Mr. Poopyhead." A burst of giggles and then, once they've been found out, a rush of whispers, "I hope she doesn't tell my Mom." The same testosterone driven fireworks display between neighbors. Whose is the biggest? Whose flies up the longest? Whose makes the biggest "boom"? Followed up by the strutting of the 10-year old who has graduated into a bona-fide pyrotechnic. Finally being allowed to light more than just a sparkler.

And then, there's the food. Oh, the food. The food we count on every year. The same food we request every year. My mother's incredible, not-too "saucey" potato salad. The one which no Fourth of July would be complete without. My father's masterful grilling skills. Hamburgers. Hot dogs. The cheerful little platter of deviled eggs that disappear as quickly as a shallow bowl of oysters on ice....if you like oysters that is. Wait a minute. Come to think of it, where were the deviled eggs this year?! The familiar spinach dip in a bread bowl. The homemade guacamole. Bowls of cherries, grapes and watermelon. The chocolate chip cookies. The apple pie. The lemon bars. And then, there's always one who has to monkey with the menu. The vegetable pusher. The one who views holidays not only as a time for the tried and true but also a time to try something new. The one who insisted on making not one but two vegetable dishes when clearly, we already had more food than we could eat. And so she blanched her asparagus. Her green beans. She minced up her homegrown herbs. (The only thing the slugs haven't eaten.) She whisked together her dressings and she added her dishes to the buffet.

And so we sat. Outside. All together. Eating. In our winter parkas. And, we complained about how much food we had. "Oh, I can't possibly eat all of this." And, we looked out across the Puget Sound. At the ferries gliding across the water. And, we listened to the patriotic bagpipe music in the background. And we talked about this and that. Something funny the kids had done. Our aches and pains. And we ate the familiar (and not-so-familiar) food and with eat bite of creamy potato salad, we celebrated the start of summer. Being together. And, the Fourth of July.

Medley of Summer Salads
So today I give you not one, but two recipes. Love both of these. One was new to our 4th of July buffet last year and the other was brand spankin' new. Both received rave reviews, although, truth be told, the second salad definitely seemed to hit a chord with the women in the group a bit more than the men. A chick salad, perhaps? Head on out to your local produce stand and make these up. You won't be disappointed.

Green Bean Summer Salad
Adapted from Sunset, June 2009

Ingredients:
2 lbs green beans, cut into 2 inch pieces
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp Dijon mustard
3 tbsp olive oil
1/4 cup each, minced fresh basil, chives and cilantro
1 cup thinly sliced red onion
3/4 cup toasted pine nuts (optional)
1/2 cup feta cheese crumbled (optional)
1/2 tsp each of salt and pepper (or to your liking)

Fill a large saucepan with water and bring to a boil. Carefully, drop in your green beans and cook for 2-3 minutes or until your green beans are slightly softened. Drain your green beans and rinse with cold water until cool to the touch.

In a large bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, mustard, oil and herbs. Add green beans, onion, pine nuts, feta, salt and pepper. Stir to combine. Best served at room temperature. Delicious the next day for breakfast alongside some scrambled eggs and toast.


Cherry Tomato and Asparagus Chick Salad
Adapted from Sunset, June 2010

Ingredients:
1 lb asparagus, trimmed and cut into thirds
3 cups halved cherry tomatoes (6 c in original recipe)
1/2 cup gorgonzola cheese
1 ripe avocado, cut into cubes
1/2 cup sliced basil leaves (1 c in original recipe)
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tsp lemon juice
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp each kosher salt and pepper

Boil asparagus in a large pot of salted water for 2 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water.

In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, mustard, salt and pepper.

In a large bowl, combine your asparagus, tomatoes, cheese, avocado and basil. Gently stir in your dressing to coat your vegetables evenly. Then, eat up. This colorful little number is best eaten soon after making. Not so good for breakfast the next day. Chicks dig it.


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

Une Petite Pomme: The First Ever La Pomme de Portland Dinner Party

I simply must tell you about one of my dear, dear friends and an entertaining endeavor she took on. She recently had a dinner party. For three families. Including all offspring. Before I go any farther into her story, let me stop and ask you, "Aren't you impressed with just these details I've given you?!" Three families! Including kids! For dinner! I find that we seem to be at an age where nobody is doing much entertaining. Remember all those Christmas parties, "wine club" parties, block parties, progressive dinners, Birthday dinners, drinks on the deck, kick-off to camping barbecues?? Nope. No one's doin' them anymore. We're all just too dang tired. So the fact that my dear friend actually threw a dinner party, during this frenetic stage of life, leaves me duly impressed.

But wait, there's more. She didn't serve frozen lasagna and a Caesar salad from Costco. No. She made everything. From scratch. And to top it off, each and every recipe was from right here. From La Pomme. I feel quite honored and thank goodness I didn't exactly know what she was doing ahead of time or I would have felt a tad bit stressed out, worrying about the caliber of my recipes I've posted here and whether or not they are dinner party worthy. When I hooked up with her afterwards, she flashed me one of her beautiful, infectious smiles (the fact that she was still smiling is saying quite a bit) and shared with me that the party had been a huge success. The dishes had been so simple to prepare, so delicious to eat and....quite healthy to boot. Even the kids had enjoyed the offerings.

So you can share in the astonishment OR perhaps throw a dinner party of your own, I give you her La Pomme de Portland Dinner Menu:

Herbes de Provence Goat Cheese Spread

A Simple Salad

String Beans and Caramelized Shallots

Braised Pacific Halibut with Mushrooms and Leeks

Cinnamon Apple Crostata

I also feel compelled to share with you that another friend let me know that she made the Ginger and Garlic Stir Fry and her kids ate some particular veggies in that dish for the first time. Veggies they had not been willing to try before...and loved them.

And then, just the other day, another friend told me that she made the Pasta e Fagioli Soup I recently posted but instead of pasta, she used cheese tortellini. Her kids lapped it up. And another friend's husband proclaimed after she made him this same soup, "Well, we're never going to have that again, are we?" "Why not?", she asked. "Because I really liked that." She and I have the same problem of making things that the whole family loves but then, never making them again simply because we can't remember what we made. And so the hubbies, much to their dismay, never see that tasty dish again.

Thank you Kim, Laura, Suzi and Tammy for sharing your culinary adventures with me. I love hearing about them but then again, I love food....actually it's more than love. A small obsession is more like it...

Happy Weekend to All....wherever you may be!!



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

Inspired by a Salad of Golden Yellow Beets and Brilliant Green Arugula

My appointed date in the "Blog-It Forward Mashup" has arrived at which time I am to share with the world what it is that inspires me. Thank you ever so much to the infinitely kind and talented, Victoria Smith, of the alway inspiring blog, sfgirlbybay, for organizing all 300 of us. The darling artist, Ariel, of La Petite Sirène passed the torch to me and I send it on its way to beautiful, Christine, of Lavender and Limes who will be sharing her musings with us on Monday. Thank you to all of you who have taken the time to stop by La Pomme today. I am ever so grateful.

Never straying too far from me, he sits at the kitchen table while I prepare dinner. His little hand still trying to find a good grasp on the pencil. With a blank sheet in front of him, he creates entire worlds on this humble piece of paper. World after world. Sheet after sheet. I kneel down in front of him and he shares with me where he's traveled in such a short time...and, I am inspired.

I am greeted by some morning light. A welcome respite from the grays of winter. The children are still sleeping. The house is hushed. With a hot cup of tea next to me, I flip open my laptop and click on my bookmarks. The list drops down. Across the world and back I go, as I click on my favorite "weblogs", one after another. I find myself swept away by the talent, the creativity, the inspiration. Encouraging me with their photographs, their artwork, their writing, their nuggets of knowledge. The food they prepare. The recipes they share. The stories they tell...and, I am inspired.

I watch him from afar as he nervously taps his foot and unconsciously drinks his water...every last drop of it...before the game begins. I think about what he said to me. About how, "Mom. Everyone is sitting there...in a line. Watching me." I see his coach motion to him. Time to go in. And then, there he is. On the court. All of that nervousness disappears. It's just him and the ball...moving in this beautiful rhythm up and down the court...and, I am inspired.

I set the finished book down on the forever-growing pile with a sigh. My eyelids are so heavy and yet, sleep eludes me. I think about where I've just traveled in my mind...a different place, a different time. Strangers I've come to know as neighbors. Friends. I think about what it means to truly be courageous. Not in the "conquering kingdoms" sense of the word but as one human being having compassion for another. I think about how the author has gently lead me in this direction...and, I am inspired.

I hear the announcer call out the next performance. I sit in the darkened room...waiting. I flashback to when she was 8 or 9 on-stage. When she knew all of the steps but her face wore a look of panic as she performed. The lights go up and I see her sweep across the floor and then, up into a grand jeté. I watch as her body becomes the artwork for the music. Her face, so full of emotion...and, I am inspired.

I have been dressed in grays and blacks and browns...for months. Perhaps I'm trying to coordinate with the sky. The landscape. The ground. I'm ready for some color. I need some color. So, with camera in hand, I set out to find some. And there, curled up ever so tightly, in a bud that will soon come to life, is a hint of pink. The sun, low in the sky, gently warms the tiny bud...and, I am inspired.

He's there on the stairs. Clean-shaven and ever so handsome. He flashes one of his smiles at me. My heart aches his smile is so beautiful. With a quick kiss to everyone and a "Have a great day!', he's off. Off to work...just as he does everyday. Even the days he'd rather be at home. With us. And yet, he goes. For him. For me. For us. Because he cares...and, I am inspired.

Here in the depths of winter, when there's not an open farmer's market to be found and I'm about out of ideas for meals made from canned goods and squash, a dear friend comes through town. The kind of friend who's known me so well, for so long, that we're starting to resemble each other like an old married couple. A gift she has in tow for me. Ivy Manning's, The Farm to Table Cookbook - The Art of Eating Locally. I flip through her tantalizing recipes organized by season. The helpful tips. The gorgeous photos lovingly taken by her husband. And there, in the section on winter, a flash of yellow catches my eye. That desperately needed color. Golden Beet Salad with Blue Cheese and Walnuts. My mouth waters just thinking of this melding of flavors. The creamy cheese with the spicy arugula. The sweet beets with the more pungent walnuts. A perfect winter medley...and, I am inspired.

Golden Beet Salad with Rogue River Blue Cheese and Walnuts

Inspired by Ivy Manning's recipe in The Farm to Table Cookbook

Now, I've taken the liberty to change a few of the items from the original recipe out of personal preference. After all, if a girl knows what she likes...well, she's got to go with it. I used olive oil instead of the walnut oil originally called for because it's what I had on hand. I also swapped out the balsamic vinegar for sherry vinegar out of preference and because I had some on hand from this recipe. Balsamic vinegar tends to be a little bit too syrupy for me on salads but I know that I'm probably in the minority here so do as you please. I've talked about Oregon's unbelievably delicious Rogue River Blue Cheese before here, but if you aren't able to get it where you live, any other soft blue cheese will work. Enjoy.

Ingredients:

8 to 10 ounces (1 1/4 pounds with greens) small golden beets

1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

salt and freshly ground pepper

1/2 cup lukewarm water

2 tbsp balsamic vinegar or sherry vinegar

1/2 tsp sugar

1 tbsp finely minced shallots

3 tbsp walnut oil or olive oil

6 oz (or 4 handfuls) arugula or other baby greens

2 oz Rogue River or other soft blue cheese

1/2 cup walnuts, toasted (for the "fyi" on toasting see this post)

optional: thinly sliced red onion

Preheat the over to 400 degrees. Wash the beets well and remove the greens and stems. Place the beets in a small baking dish and toss with the olive oil, salt and pepper. Cover with foil and bake for 40 minutes or until a knife easily goes through the largest beet. Remove the dish from the oven, carefully peel back the foil, and add the water; re-cover and set aside.

Combine the vinegar, sugar and shallots in a small bowl. Gradually whisk the oil to make an emulsified dressing.

When the beets are cool enough to handle, slip off their skins with your fingers and cut them into 1/2-inch wedges. Toss them with the arugula and enough dressing to coat the salad. Divide the salad among 4 plates, sprinkle with the blue cheese and walnuts (and red onions, if you like) and serve. Mmmmmm.....

Yield: 4 salads or salad fixings just for me to savor over the course of four days....

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

A Simple Salad & The Sound of Silence

The boxes have been put away. The vacuum has been run. The cheery red of the holidays has been replaced with winter whites. Linen. The poinsettias with bare branches. (Well, actually I didn't have any poinsettias but I like the way that sounds. Don't you?) The children are back at school and the only sounds I hear are those of my own footsteps and the soft, furry ones padding quietly behind me.

After the richness of the holidays, I want anything but.....so, here I sit with a simple salad laid out before me. A salad of spinach leaves, chevre sec (a dry goat cheese...you simply must), toasted walnuts and a homemade vinaigrette. Now don't be fooled by this salad's unassuming presence. One bite and you'll see that together the flavors are a carnival for your tongue. My fork hits the plate with a clank as I leave it to pick-up a piece of bread. A sip of water. And here I sit. Just me....and the cat. And listen. To the sound of silence.

Now, nevermind about the fact that my home happens to be located under the landing pattern for our local airport or the fact that a fleet of leaf blowers shows up every afternoon without fail (or so it seems) and fires up those dastardly things for what seems like hours when clearly the leaves are long since gone. What exactly are they "blowing around" out there? And is someone paying them to do this? And, yes, there's the train that seems to rumble right past my house blowing his horn even though in reality he's at least 5 miles away and we can't forget the most recent development....that of the apparent, afternoon, chainsaw session that takes place in the woods behind my house. Although, I have yet to see a felled tree or the chainsaw operator. What are they doing back there?

So, really...nevermind about all that. Silence is relative. I'm alone in my house. Just me...and the cat. Eating my salad. And it's silent.

A Simple Salad with Homemade Vinaigrette

I absolutely LOVE this salad. I cannot stop eating it. So simple to make. In the winter, I make it with baby spinach leaves but once arugula season hits, I switch the spinach out for that. No matter which "leaves" you use, it's the homemade vinaigrette that ties together all of the flavors. And, if you have a daughter like mine who wanders into the kitchen, asking, "Watcha makin' Mom?" and then wanders out after having polished off the last bit of the vinaigrette on her own salad, you may want to make a double batch. As for the cheese, I was turned on to "chevre sec" (literally - dry goat cheese) a few years ago. It has a creamy texture with a consistency more like feta as opposed to the regular soft goat cheese. There is a fromagerie right here in Mollala, Oregon making this type of artisan cheese - Goldin Artisan Goat Cheese. I happened to find a tiny, little wedge of her Tomme Cuivree at New Seasons the other day. Needless to say, it is now gone.

The Salad

A handful of greens - spinach, arugula or baby

Crumbled goat cheese - I prefer the "chevre sec" but regular goat cheese will work just as well

Toasted walnuts - 350 degrees for 10 minutes or in a pinch, one minute in the microwave

Freshly ground pepper on the top

Sometimes I put a few sliced mushrooms in it, a few cucumber slices but not much else. I try to keep it simple

The Homemade Vinaigrette

(Inspired by David Lebovitz) While I have made many different types of vinaigrettes over the years, I recently stumbled upon this one and it is my new favorite.

1/8 tsp sea salt (or kosher salt or whatever salt you use)

1 tbsp sherry vinegar or red wine vinegar

1/2 small shallot, peeled, minced (about 1 tbsp)

1/2 tsp Dijon mustard (I tend to use Maille or Edmond Fallot)

3 -4 tbsp olive oil (I usually use 4)

1. In a small bowl, mix together the salt, vinegar and shallot. Let stand for about ten minutes while you prepare your salad and/or roast your walnuts.

2. Mix in the Dijon mustard, then whisk in 3 tbsp of olive oil. Mix well, then taste. If it's too strong add the final tablespoon of olive oil and a bit more salt, if necessary.

Drizzle on your salad. Toss to lightly coat every little bit of salad on your plate with this golden vinaigrette. Eat. Sigh. Enjoy.

Yield: About 1/4 cup, enough for one large green salad.

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

Mediterranean Spinach Salad

I left the house in summer attire. Tank top. Flip flops. Sunglasses. And, headed out into the warm, balmy morning air for our local football jamboree. Upon arriving, I couldn't help but smile when I saw the skinny little legs poking out from under the mountainous shoulder attire. Hard to believe the fall sports season has arrived once again. Our previous week was spent at daily swimming lessons and anticipating the arrival of teacher placement letters. While my eldest and the baby couldn't be more thrilled for the school year to get underway, the 10-year old won't discuss it. Would barely look at his teacher placement letter when he finally had it in hand. It seems that if you don't acknowledge the start of school in any way, don't look at the letter telling you who your teacher is, even if it's the teacher you were hoping for, then perhaps it won't ever begin and summer will go on forever.

The game is over. I say a few pleasantries to friends just arriving for subsequent games. And then I take my leave. As I walk back to the car, I perceive tiny drops of water landing on my nose. My cheeks. I quicken my pace as I notice the dark clouds coming and a drop in the temperature. Once in the safety of my car, I feel a smidge of survivor's guilt as the clouds open up and large droplets of water splash onto my windshield quickly turning into a downpour. The friends I had just left behind had arrived in the same summer attire. Not a single umbrella to be seen. I hurry home.

One of the "Back-to-School" activities I looked forward to the most during my elementary years was that of purchasing school supplies. I loved school supplies. A fresh, new bottle of Elmer's glue without the glue glob and teeth marks that bedeck the top of each used bottle by year's end. The shiny new pencils without the aforementioned teeth marks. A ruler. And, of course, the pièce de résistance, a new box of Crayola crayons. Every year I would beg my mother for the Granddaddy box. The box with the built-in sharpener. The box with not just primary colors but 64 colors with names such as midnight blue, burnt sienna, mulberry, carnation pink and cornflower. And, every year (but one,) I would come home with the standard box of 12. I can't say I blame my mother. I would probably say "no" too because, for crying out loud, what happens to all of those crayons we buy each year? Do you know anyone who has actually used up a whole entire crayon down to a bitty nub? I suppose they go the way of hair bands, hair clips and single socks.

I do not have the same begging for the "64-crayon" box. I do not have it because I receive a list that tells me in great detail exactly which school supplies to buy my children. No questions asked. "3 2-pocket folders in the opaque colors of yellow, green and blue." "One 2-inch three ring binder in red and a 3-inch three ring binder in green. No zippered Trapper-Keepers allowed." "Two fine-tip black Sharpies and one ultra-fine tip Sharpie in red." "Graph paper, 1/4 inch scale, spiral bound." Years ago when I took my daughter's hand in mind and we headed out for that first school supply shopping trip, I practically sang from the rafters I was so excited. Little did I know that years later, this same annual trip would be fraught with stress as I agonized over details such as, "They're asking for two fine-tip black Sharpies but they only come in packs of 3 and ultra-fine doesn't come in red only black. Would a red "fine-tip" pen be okay? Will my child be humiliated in front of her classmates for bringing the incorrect items?" Doesn't this stress you out, my friend, just reading what I've written?

This year I finally wised-up, left the boys at home and took only my daughter and the instruction's from the 10-year old that if there was a choice of colors to get red or black. We each grabbed a cart and then, headed off in different directions with our lists. Quite seamless, I might say. And, after 7 years of school supply shopping, my attitude has evolved into, "They (the school) will get whatever I can find that's closest to what they're asking for and be happy about it." And with that, we walked out into the bright, hot sunlight with our purchases in hand and I cursed the fact that I had left my sunglasses on the kitchen counter, wrongly assuming earlier, that I wouldn't need them.

As we pulled up the driveway, we were greeted by a gaggle of shirtless boys running past us with sticks in hand. A bit "Lord of the Flyish," don't you think? Scooters and light sabers lay strewn across the pavement blocking our entrance into the garage. Safely inside, I glanced at the clock and realized that lo and behold, it was time to get dinner going. I set the bags of school supplies on the dining room table and got to work. Not having a formalized plan, other than to use up some herbs from my overflowing pots, the scant few vegetables from my garden and the Gravenstein apples on my counter, I poured myself a glass of sparkling water with a lemon slice, turned on some music and surveyed the food situation. I had managed to find fresh Coho salmon at my local market on sale for $5.99/lb so I brushed some olive oil on it, sprinkled it with salt and pepper, chopped up a handful of mixed herbs - rosemary, oregano, basil & thyme - scattered them across the top and then finished it off with a squeeze of lemon. I put it back in the fridge for a bit while I finished the dishes from that morning's breakfast prepped a Mediterranean spinach salad, cut up some bread, laid out some cheese and butter and poured a round of water. Thirty minutes later, I laid down my scrumptious grilled salmon and vibrant spinach salad on the table, hollered that dinner was ready (we really need a dinner bell) and sat down with my family to eat our meal. My daughter inhaled her spinach salad commenting that it was "Soooo delicious!" and the baby remarked that, "This dinner is soooo good I can't stop eating it." I'm sure he was referring to the whole dinner and not just the 5 pieces of bread he had wolfed down.

The busyness of dinner had died down. The dishes were washed and put away. The baby was in bed. The rest of the family had scattered to their own "wind-down" spot. I had a cup of peppermint tea in hand and had just pulled out a knife to start peeling the apples when I glanced outside. Already dark. 8:15 pm. Hmmmm. So strange how it comes on so quickly. Not but a month and a half ago, we all sat gazing out across the Puget Sound toward the Olympic mountains in anticipation of the fireworks beginning. At 10:30 pm it still wasn't dark enough.

I sliced up the Gravenstein apples. They were the first of the season at the Farmer's Market last weekend. The kiddos had found them a bit too tart to eat out of hand. I now laid them in the bottom of a baking dish. Sprinkled them with a mixture of oats, brown sugar, flour, cinnamon and butter and gently eased the whole concoction into the oven to bake. I sat down at the counter, sipped my tea and reflected on this day. This day, this meal, this weather. One foot in summer. One foot in fall. We were "betwixt the seasons." The heavy-scented aroma of baking apples topped with cinnamon brought the eldest children out of their hiding places and into the kitchen. One look at their eyes, I realized the sandman had already visited. I assured them we could have the apple crisp for breakfast. They nodded, appeased but sleepy, and shuffled back out of the kitchen.

Mediterranean Spinach Salad

(adapted from Mediterranean Summer Salad, Sunset, August 2009)

1 cup orzo pasta

2 cups coarsely diced tomatoes or halved cherry tomatoes - the ripest, sweetest ones you can find which are at your local grocery store or farmer's market right now

1 cup fresh basil leaves, chopped

4 oz feta cheese, crumbled

2 cups baby spinach leaves

1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

2 tbsp balsamic vinegar

salt & pepper to taste

optional:

a handful of blanched green beans from your garden

a 1/2 can of rinsed & drained white beans (I have a thing about adding beans to everything.)

Cook orzo according to the package directions. Then, in a large bowl combine tomatoes, basil, feta, spinach, beans & beans. Add drained, cooked orzo.

In a small bowl, whisk together oil, vinegar, salt & pepper. Toss desired amount with salad.

PS: While I did put the orzo in the salad this time, next time I will try it without since my children just pushed it aside and ate the veggies. Who knew?

Originally written: August 29, 2009

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009