Archive Page 7

ka-boom!

Published July 5, 2012 garden fare , pig slop , sweets 11 Comments
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Fourth of July for me means two things. Sugar snap peas and tart cherries. Which is why I always resist traveling on this particular holiday. I swear the snap peas time it so their sugar content is the absolute sweetest four days into July. And after all they’ve been through, it’s just not right to let the peas down by not being available to pick them. Only recently have I been able to honor this commitment.

tart cherries
And so it was that I spent my fourth ever Independence Day at home, gorging on peas and cherries. To each their own, right? My holiday was particularly lovely this year because I had Earl to keep me company. He’s as about as quiet and reserved as I am. We’re a good match that way.

At four o’clock, I cracked a bottle of French rose and retired to the shade of the patio with Earl, a book, and a basket of peas. I should mention that Earl was looking particularly festive, sporting his new red-starred-spangled neck buff. My friend Julie surprised Earl with this chic gift when she came to dinner a few weeks ago.

star spangled earl
I wiled away the late afternoon, indulged in my book, but still managing to keep my glass full and slip Earl an occasional pea pod. Before I knew it, afternoon turned into evening and I realized I had no plans for what to have for dinner. Until I remembered the dish of roasted tart cherries in the fridge.

I had made them the other night, on a whim, when I had the oven on for something else. Fresh cherries, honey, vanilla, and a splash of wine, simply roasted until they are soft and bubbly. This is actually a riff on one of my favorite ways to eat spring rhubarb – a recipe courtesy of The Canal House. So with rhubarb on the way out and tart cherries moving in, I thought I’d swap them in. Ka-boom! An explosion as good as any fireworks display.
roasted cherries
The preparation is ridiculously simple and it’s one of those where the complexity of each flavor really shines through. The roasted fruit is perfect eaten plain by the spoonful right out of the pan (my usual approach), and great spooned over ice cream or plain yogurt – which made for a refreshing, low-key Independence Day dinner.
This was my first Fourth of July with Earl, but I suspected many months ago that he might not appreciate fireworks. My hunch was undeniably confirmed. But we settled in together and made the best of it. Luckily we discovered his buff can provide ear protection as well.
earl hates ka-boooms!

Roasted Tart Cherries

1/2 pound tart cherries, pitted
2-3 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons wine (rose is a lovely match, but white or red works too)
1/4 teaspoon vanilla bean paste or 1 small vanilla bean, split
1-2 teaspoons cornstarch or tapioca flour (optional)

Mix together in a small oven proof roasting pan. Bake in a 350º F oven for 30 – 50 minutes until fruit is soft and bubbly. Depending on how juicy your cherries are, and considering if you want a thinner or thicker consistency, you may want to add cornstarch or tapioca to thicken it up. This can be done before it goes in the oven, or at any point during baking. Serve warm, chilled or at room temperature, depending on your mood and the weather. This makes enough for two nice servings. Double, triple, or quadruple as needed!

Earl


hello summer

Published June 23, 2012 bee yard , odds and ends , pig slop 6 Comments
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It’s been wet here. Exceptionally wet. We’ve pretty much doubled our average monthly rainfall. Which means Bayfield County has gotten about seven inches – most of it within the last week and a half. I’ve replanted the jack-o’-lanterns twice. My peppers are pale shade of yellow. A lovely color really – just one not intended for a pepper plant. Pools of water were lapping at the honeybees’ front porches. But really, all of this is nothing compared to the tragedies that nearby Duluth saw last week. Neighborhoods were evacuated. Animals swam away from the zoo. Cars disappeared into sinkholes. Bridges collapsed.
green-gold-bluplerium
But then, right on cue – just a few hours after the solstice – Summer cleared her throat and gave Spring a stern tap on the shoulder. And it worked. It actually feels like summer, with sunshine and warm breezes and everything. The pumpkins sprouted. The peppers are hinting at light hue of green. I picked flowers for the windowsill. And to really drive it home, I boated out to Long Island in the Apostles for beach-side cocktails with friends. I wasn’t taking any chances.
Long Island Cocktail Club
My bees are in a fabulous mood. After a particularly slow spring, they are finally busy and mellow. I love that about honeybees. Hard work brings a sense of calm to the hive. It’s when they can’t get to the task at hand that they get cranky. If only we could all have such passion for our jobs. And their labor has paid off, their boxes are dripping with fresh honey.
The other day I did a hive check at 5 pm and the foragers were still out and active – another sure sign of summer. In the spring and fall I try to work the bees midday, when I know the bulk of the hive will be out. But in summer I can be a bit more lax. Because I know the girls will be taking advantage of the long, languid nectar filled days well into the evening.
summer bees
As a nod to my bees and warm summer nights I decided to mix up a batch of orange scented honey syrup – perfect for cocktails on the deck. Then I shook up a light and refreshing gin fizz, substituting in the honey syrup for the powdered sugar. It’s what I made for the boat ride over to Long Island to celebrate summer’s arrival. And something tells me I’ll make it all summer long – to unwind with after a long day, or to take to the garden with dinner and a blanket, or to sip on the porch during a thunderstorm, or maybe to sit quietly in the fading light and watch the bees come home. Here’s to sweet summer nights.
gin fizz

Really this cocktail could  just as easily be mixed straight in the glass, but like 007, I prefer my drinks shaken, not stirred.

Honey Gin Fizz

2 tablespoons gin
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons honey syrup
5 ice cubes
club soda

Shake gin, lemon juice, honey syrup, and ice in a cocktail shaker. Pour into an 8 oz cocktail glass and top with a glug of club soda. Garnish with a lemon twist and toast to summer nights.

Honey Syrup

3/4 cup honey
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons orange juice
1/4 – 1/2 teaspoon orange zest

Combine all ingredients in a medium saucepan. Heat to a boil while stirring. Reduce heat and cook, stirring occasionally until the mixture is reduced by one-fourth. Cool and store in a jar in the refrigerator. Keeps for months. Makes a healthy 3/4 cups.

solstice-sun

convert

Published June 7, 2012 garlic patch 1 Comment
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This is something I should really being telling you about in the fall, but I can’t wait that long. I promise to remind you. It’s about garlic. See, there comes a time every spring when the storage garlic gets too soft and sprouty to use and the green garlic bed is just a little too young to raid. A garlic drought. This is a sad time for garlic pigs. But this year (squeal!) things are different. This year, there is freezer garlic.
freezer garlic
I’ve always wondered about freezer garlic, but it just seems wrong. I’ve never had the courage to plunge those plump little gems into the frozen darkness. This fall though, on a whim, I gathered up all of the rogue cloves that didn’t make the planting cut and filled a few ziplock bags. Then I tossed them in and did my best to forget about them. And I pretty much did. Until a few weeks ago when the garlic drought hit.
I was making what otherwise would become a poor, garlicless stir fry and skeptically reached in the freezer for a handful of cloves. Things got of off to a promising start. The skins slipped right off. It got even better when I ran the frozen cloves through the press. Remember Play-Doh’s Fuzzy Pumper Barbershop? You know where you pump play-doh hair through little people’s heads so you can give them a stylish hairdo? I never actually had a Fuzzy Pumper – I had to rely on my best friend’s. But oh how I loved making heads of bright blue play-doh hair. Well. Let me tell you. Freezer garlic is the culinary equivalent of the Fuzzy Pumper. The cloves have a different texture than fresh garlic and they squeeze through in long, lucious strands. I’m easily amused in the kitchen.
garlic
But the real clincher is the taste. It livened up the stir fry just like my storage garlic. In fact, I’d be hard pressed to tell the difference – especially all cooked up with other flavors. So that’s it. I’m a freezer garlic convert. I’m already down to my last ziplock. I won’t be storing mass quantities this way, but it’s a fine solution for those loose, post-planting cloves. And I love that they just hang tight in the freezer until called on. It’s exactly the thing I need to see me through the spring garlic dearth.
smudge in the garlic patch
I’ll remind you this fall to stick a baggie in the freezer. You just throw the cloves in, skins and all. It couldn’t be easier. And if nothing else, you’ll have the makings for your very own Fuzzy Pumper Garlic Shop.

wild ride

Published May 25, 2012 bread, crackers & sandwiches , pig slop 6 Comments
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Last week when my mother was here, graciously helping to transport our kitchen from the old house to the new house, she astutely pointed out that I have a lot of honey in my pantry. This is not particularly surprising. I am a beekeeper after all. What she meant though, is that I have a lot of other honey. One of the unforseen benefits of keeping bees is that people tend to bring me honey. Crazy, exotic honey from far away places.

I have had intoxicating lavender honey from Morocco, orange blossom honey via Florida and famed medicinal manuka honey from New Zealand. I’ve been sent cinnamon creamed honey from Maine and raw honey from a friend’s dad. It all looks and tastes dramatically differently.

honey
My most recent acquisition arrived from the Yucatan courtesy of my friend Gail. It is, without a doubt, the most rugged bottle of honey in my collection. The only label is a small, neon yellow price tag (which Gail assured me is in pesos, not dollars).  And it is bottled in a recycled water bottle (which Gail assured me is more than likely safe and that I should just be glad it came with a screw cap instead of a corn cob nub). It may look modest enough, but I think it might be my most complex specimen. One sniff told me I was in for a wild ride.
I got my newest honey on a Friday and immediately started daydreaming of Sunday when I knew we’d have a chance to really get to know each other. My recipe for a perfect Sunday morning is pretty simple. It includes a hot pot of strong coffee, the most recent New Yorker, a side of thick cut bacon, a pan of steaming popovers, and the honey pot. Oh, and maybe a little cultured butter to really ramp things up.
sunday-bliss
I’ve tested plenty of popover recipes with varying degrees of success. But last year, I finally found my go to recipe – “Roberta’s Popovers that Always Pop.” Maybe it is the overly confident title, but it has yet to fail me. The recipe clipping (which I can not recall the origins of) includes a picture of Roberta. I have no idea who she is, but she looks like the sort of woman whose popover always pop. I have no problem putting my faith in Roberta. Her popovers are crisp on the outside and moist on the inside.
popovers
While my popovers were busy popping, I got out the new bottle of honey and a spoon. I gave it another whiff – herbaceous and earthy, with a subtle floral undertone. A strong smell, but with a distinct and milder taste. And there’s a tang to it that I can’t name. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what those Mexican bees were feasting on. Whatever it was, I knew it was going to be a outrageous addition to my Sunday popovers.
Roberta’s Popovers that Always Pop
(slightly adapted)

1 cup flour (or substitute in 1/4 whole wheat)
1 cup milk
3 large eggs
3 tablespoons butter, melted
pinch of salt

Preheat the oven to 425º F and turn it down to 400º after it is preheated. Preheat the empty popover pan in the 400º oven for 10 minutes while you mix the batter.  Melt the butter and let it cool slightly. In a blender, mix the milk and eggs. Add in the butter. With the blender running, slowly add in the flour and salt and blend briefly until batter is thick and smooth. Remove the preheated pan and lightly spray it with cooking oil. Fill each cup about 3/4 full and return to oven. Bake at 400º for 20 minutes. Leaving the popovers in the oven, and without opening the door, turn the oven down to 350º and bake another 10-15 minutes. Use a paring knife to make a small slit in the side of each popover. Turn the oven off and let popovers rest for 5 minutes in the pan. (Make 5-6 large popovers, depending on the size of your pan)
popover

cake conscious

Published May 15, 2012 pig slop , sweets 9 Comments
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My mother is a bonafide clipper. She is notorious for tearing out magazine pages and snipping out newspaper articles. Any potentially useful bit of information must be saved! Clip, clip, clip. I can pretty much guarantee that one of the first agenda items on any visit with her will be to sit down and go through what she has come to call “the stack.”
There will be recipes for sure, maybe a few household tips, perhaps an article about honeybees, definitely some ideas for the garden – generally involving some cool thing that my husband Mark should build, usually a sales flyer or two for some purchase yet to be made, and almost always some bit of financial advice that I should “read up on.” Aren’t moms great?
sweet-flowers
Here’s how great my mom really is. I did the daughterly thing and invited her to come for a visit over Mother’s Day Weekend. But I also suggested she throw some cleaning supplies into her car. You know, to help get the new house ready to move into. My mom also happens to be a bonafide cleaner. Is it wrong to take advantage of your mother on Mother’s Day? I sheepishly promised to make her dinner.
My mom pulled into the driveway, unloaded her supplies, sat down to a quick lunch, and breezed through her latest stack with me. With that out of the way she slipped into her energizer bunny costume and got to work. Once my mom starts, there is very little that will stop her. She dusted, and swept, and mopped. She vacuumed, and wiped, and swiffered. And then she did it all over again. It’s amazing how dirty a brand new house is. Was.
clean house
When my mom ran out of things to clean, she started packing and hauling. Loading up the garden cart and wrangling it across a landscape that doesn’t really qualify as yard. I was really starting to feel guilty. But I suspected this might happen, and so luckily, I had planned accordingly.
I had the perfect recipe tucked away. Fittingly, it was an article/recipe saved from a former stack. The subhead reads “Instead of a bouquet of flowers for mom, consider a flowered cake.” I remember my mom jokingly hint that I might one day take this advice. And so before she arrived, I did as the article instructed and baked her a Triple Layer Honey Lemon Cake. I even hand sugared violets for the top of the cake. The only hard part was moving it from room to room, trying to keep it a surprise. But my mom was in and out of rooms and cupboards faster than I could keep up with. Finally, I gave up and just put the cake on the counter.
The sight of it though seemed to make my mom work even harder. My plan was backfiring. We did eventually get her to stop, but I think Mark had to sit her down in the adirondack and force a gin and tonic into her hand. After a simple meal of crispy oven fries and grilled burgers we wasted no time rummaging around for suitable cake plates. I felt a little less guilty with every moist, lemony, honey scented bite.
honey-lemon-cake
My mom got up and did it all over again the next day. Luckily for my conscious, it was a big cake. There was even enough left to send her home with a nice big wedge. As she was packing up her supplies, she turned and handed me her Swiffer. “You’re going to need this,” she said. And she’s right. I had no idea, but anyone with dark floors and light colored pets needs a Swiffer. It’s an incredible little tool. I’ve only had it two days, but I’ve already used it several times. How do moms get so smart?
Honey Lemon Triple-Layer Cake
(Adapted from the Rochester Post Bulletin)
There are two things that set this cake apart – the intricate flavor from the honey, and the addition of Earl Grey tea in the lemon filling. The tea flavor is subtle, but adds an amazing complexity to the filling. It’s a great idea that I never would have thought of. I increased the lemon just about everywhere in the recipe, but I would even bump it up even more next time. The other unusual addition to the batter is ginger ale. I was a little skeptical pouring it in, but it seemed to yield fine results. And, clearly, I need to practice the fine art of hand sugaring flowers. Mine looked a little pathetic. Fortunately, the lovely billowy honey-meringue covered for me.  The recipe looks long, but really it’s not so bad. My mom was worth every step.
meringue

For the cake:
2 cups sugar
1 cup honey
6 eggs
Zest of 1 lemon
1 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 teaspoons lemon extract
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 ounces butter, melted and cooled
3 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
3 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
12 ounce bottle ginger ale

For the filling:
3/4 cup water
1 bag Earl Grey tea
1/2 cup lemon juice
1/4 cup honey
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3 eggs yolks (reserve the whites for the frosting)
2 tablespoons butter

For the honey meringue frosting:
1/2 cup honey
4 egg whites
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

For the sugared flowers:
1 egg white
Pinch of salt
Edible flowers or petals
Ultra-fine sugar

Heat the oven to 325 degrees. Coat three 9-inch cake pans with baking spray, then line the bottom of each with a round of parchment paper.

To make the cakes, in a large bowl use an electric mixer to combine the sugar, honey, eggs, lemon zest, vanilla and salt. Beat until well combined, about 1 minute. Add the butter and beat again.

In another bowl, stir together the flour and baking powder.

With the mixer on, beat the ginger ale and flour into the honey-sugar mixture in 2 additions, alternating. Divide the batter between the prepared pans and bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted at the center comes out clean. Allow to cool for 10 minutes in the pan, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely.

To make the filling, in a small saucepan over medium-high, combine the water, tea bag, lemon juice and honey. Bing to a simmer then remove from the heat and steep for 3 minutes. Discard the tea bag.

In a small bowl, whisk together the cornstarch and the 3 egg yolks. While whisking, add a small amount of the hot lemon water to the egg yolks. Continue to whisk while adding small amounts of the liquid until half the lemon water is incorporated. Pour the yolk mixture into the pan and whisk to combine. Continue to cook until the mixture returns to a simmer and thickens. Remove from the heat and whisk in the butter. Transfer the mixture to a bowl and press plastic wrap directly onto the surface. Refrigerate until cold.

Once the cakes and filling have cooled, assemble the layers.

Use a large, serrated knife to carefully slice the top dome off each layer horizontally to create 3 level layers of cake. Be sure to remove the parchment paper from the bottom of the cakes. Place one layer of cake on a serving platter, then spread half of the filling over the cake. Add a second layer and repeat with the filling. Top with the third layer of cake, overturning the final layer so the bottom is up. Set aside.

To make the meringue, in a small saucepan over medium, heat the honey until simmering.

In a large bowl use an electric mixer to beat the 4 egg whites and the cream of tartar until very foamy. Slowly add the hot honey while continuing to beat. Continue to beat the whites until they form stiff, glossy peaks. Frost the cake with the meringue, swirling it with the back of a spoon.

To sugar the flowers, in a small bowl beat the egg white and salt until frothy. Using a small, clean paintbrush, paint the flowers with the egg white. Sprinkle with sugar. Decorate the cake with the flowers.

(Serves 12-14)

coming clean

Published May 7, 2012 odds and ends , pig brain 13 Comments
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This is embarrassing, but it’s undeniably true. I am forty years old. That’s not the embarrassing part. The embarrassing part is that up until a week ago, I still took laundry home to my mother’s house. Or to my brother’s. Or to my best friend’s. Really, I was open to anywhere that wasn’t a laundromat. It’s not actually going to the laundromat that I take issue with – I mean really, it’s a nice excuse to sit and read for 45 minutes while your clothes spin. Or, if you’ve been smart and timed things properly, to pop off to the nearest bar for a pint. And the closest establishment to my laundromat happens to overlook Lake Superior. Not a bad venue.

My real beef with the laundromat (despite the inevitable screaming child phenomenon) is that my clothes seldom come clean. Yes, they smell fresh and generally look at least slightly better than when they went in, but not much. Nor is it unheard of for items to come out even worse for the wear. And so to drop twenty bucks in quarters, squander a couple hours of my time, and return home with only marginally clean clothes is something I have come to truly loathe. So when a nice, clean, highly functioning washing machine presents itself, I have no qualms with taking advantage of it. Nevertheless, it’s hard to feel entirely grown up when you’re still driving around with a basket of dirty clothes in the back seat.
washing machine
But this is it. I have crossed the threshold. I am now an exceptionally grateful owner of a perfectly sized Asko washer and dryer. They are so cute. And my clothes are so clean! I feel so adult. Along with our new house, I am also the proud owner of a kitchen faucet. And a bathroom faucet. And a shower. And a toilet that flushes even.
It occurred to me the other day that I have lived almost as much of my life without running water and indoor plumbing than with. Mostly by circumstance and choice, granted, but still, it’s time. I’m ready. It was the laundry that really pushed me over the edge. I love our outhouse. It has a great view. I still opt for it over the new toilet that flushes. As far as the laundromat goes though, I will never, ever look back. Ever.
outhouse
We haven’t officially moved in to our new house yet, but we’ve gradually been making our way over there, dabbling in the various conveniences of modern day living. Yesterday I looked up from my desk to see Mark trudging across the lawn with the stand mixer in one arm and his slab of marble in the other. Pizza night. He popped his head back in an hour or so later and shouted up for me to bring over a bottle of wine. It was a little sparse, but still, we enjoyed our first real meal in the new house. We even broke a glass. Actually the cat broke it. Which made it feel even more like home.
kitchen
It has not escaped my notice, however, that along with all the pleasures of our schmancy new house comes upkeep and cleaning. The nice part about not having had a bathroom for the last 18 years is that I have not cleaned a bathroom in 18 years. Rustic living has its perks people! After just a week’s worth of showers though, the new bathroom is already demanding my attention. I always keep a spray bottle of homemade, planet-friendly cleaner in our kitchen now, but I decided it was time to mix up two more bottles for the new house. One for the bathroom and another for the laundry room. Have I mentioned how adult I feel?
I love this cleaning solution. It smells great, it’s cheap, and I can spray it liberally in my new shower without fear of poisoning my lungs, or the planet. It’s super quick to mix up and it does the trick on almost everything. Even outhouses.
outhouse seat
Good for Nearly Everything Cleaner

Spray bottle
Water
White vinegar
1 tablespoon Dr. Bronner’s Sal Suds (or similar liquid soap)
1 tablespoon CitraSolv (or similar citrus cleaner)
Few drops of essential oil (I use geranium)

Fill a standard size spray bottle with half water and half white vinegar.
Add liquid soap, citrus cleaner, and  essential oil. Mix gently.

all-purpose cleaner

pile it on

Published April 29, 2012 pig brain 3 Comments
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My plate is full. Heaping. Almost cracked from the weight of it all. I run my own business. I’m taking more web development classes at MCAD. The summer labor of beekeeping and gardening is gearing up. We’re building a house – which, as it turns out, is not as “fun” and “exciting” as people tend to elude to. It might be fun and exciting after you move in, but truthfully, the process is a beast. There are a million, petty, time consuming details – and we’re not even the one’s swinging hammers. Sometimes that seems like the easy part.
lemon cake
Because I clearly don’t have enough going on, I decided to pile on a little more. It’s an idea I’ve flirted with for years. Meet Bayfield’s newest baker! That’s right, I’ve picked up a couple of morning baking shifts at my local cafe and coffee roasters. And I LOVE it. It is so different than all of my other work. It’s like the joy of home baking times ten. Everything is magnified – the equipment, the quantities of butter, the joy I get from making something for someone else. It’s all super-sized. Have you ever melted a stock pot full of marshmallows? You should. It’s really something.
Maybe the thrill will wear off, but I doubt it. So far I smile every time flour or pecans come unexpectedly spilling out of my pant cuffs. I feel lucky to be doing something I truly enjoy. It’s a great feeling. The timing isn’t perfect, but that’s okay. I’ll just nudge things around a bit to make room on my plate. Even if it means I have to plant the entire garden to sweet peas and basil. Worse things have happened.
spring garlic crop
But I must confess that I haven’t been doing much of anything to brag about in the kitchen lately. Meals have been quick and simple. I’ve practically been living off of Ashley’s lovely avocado salad – tossed with swiss chard and served over couscous. And it seems that when I do have a spare minute in the kitchen, it’s been spent turning out something sweet for the construction crew. I want those boys happy! But between that and the cafe, I’ve pretty much been on a baking bender.
Life will balance out though. It always does. The semester is nearly over. My design work typically slows down in the summer. And the house is damn near finished. I have no doubt I’ll get the garden in eventually. Because I’m already looking forward to a summer’s worth of cooking in a brand new kitchen. Now that, sounds “fun” and “exciting.” I can hardly wait.

bacon symphony

Published April 13, 2012 bread, crackers & sandwiches , pig slop 7 Comments
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In another lifetime, I lived and worked on an organic farm in far northern Maine with my mentor turned best friend, Lorna. We ran a small CSA together, doling out a weekly supply of vegetables to a dozen or so families. Lorna taught me a lot of things – and how to grow vegetables was just the tip of the iceberg. She taught me how to change the muffler on my truck. She showed me how to be quiet and wait. She taught me how to split and stack wood. She encouraged me to look at things differently. And, best of all, she taught me how to cook without a recipe.

Lorna’s cooking style is amusing. She’s the type who drizzles the honey into the bread batter two feet above the bowl, just to see the pattern it makes. But perhaps her best culinary trait is that she cooks with what she has. There’s no running to the Shop & Save twenty minutes away to pick up this or that. Lorna inventories her kitchen like a true chef. And if she has a surplus of some particular ingredient, you can bet it will be front and center on the menu.

This happened so often in my cooking forays with her, that I coined a term for it. The “_____ intensive meal.” If there was bread about to go by, I knew we’d need to come up with a bread intensive meal. An onslaught of broccoli demanded a broccoli intensive meal. A surplus of eggs? You get the idea. Lorna doesn’t really need a cookbook. She just needs to know what’s in the pantry. I admire that.

The other night as I was drifting into that wild space where the conscious and subconscious so effortlessly mingle, I remembered the two pounds of bacon that has been lingering in our fridge. A bacon intensive meal, I thought. Must-make-a-bacon-intensive-meal. And then sleep washed over me. Fortunately this bit of brilliance was still with me in the morning. Only I wasn’t quite sure what comprises a bacon intensive meal – save roasting two trays of it in the oven and then shamelessly tucking in.

I channeled Lorna for inspiration and decided on bacon sandwiches. But not just plain old bacon sandwiches. I riffled the fridge and pulled out all the big guns. A wedge of Ba Ba Blue, a bunch of tender arugula, and a carton of slow roasted tomatoes with honey and thyme  from the freezer. I called Mark and asked him to pick up a loaf of marbled rye on his way home. My bacon intensive meal was coming together just fine.

In my book, any grilled sandwich in waiting has two best friends. A well seasoned cast iron griddle and Hellmann’s. Because let me tell you, when a thin smear of Hellman’s meets a hot griddle, it’s a match made in heaven. It doesn’t really matter what’s between the bread. Even a Kraft single will shine. Only in this case it did matter. It mattered because I’m pretty sure it’s a top-ten sandwich, well worthy of repeating. When I was prepping them I had a bout of panic that it was too much. Surely I was going overboard with all of these big flavors. But I wasn’t. They balanced each other perfectly. PERFECTLY! It was one magnificent crunchy, savory, salty, acidic, sweet, bitter, creamy, tangy bacon symphony. Pour a cold, hoppy IPA and prepare for the cymbal crash.

Garlic Pig Bacon Sandwiches

1 pound bacon, cooked
4-5 ounces Blue cheese, crumbled
1 small bunch of arugula
1 cup roasted tomatoes (ideally with a tinge of honey added)
fresh or dried thyme
10 – 12 slices marbled rye
Hellmann’s mayonaise

Spread a thin layer of Hellmann’s on the outer surface of each bread slice. Construct sandwiches by layering Blue cheese, ample bacon, a handful of arugula, a scattering of tomatoes, and a light sprinkling of thyme between two pieces of bread. Grill on a medium-hot griddle until nicely browned on both sides, about 5 minutes per side. Makes 5 – 6 sandwiches, depending on the size of your bread.

antidote

Published April 6, 2012 garden fare , pig slop 8 Comments
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I’ve been traveling this week. I don’t particularly like traveling. Sure, I enjoy a good dose of city culture. And it’s always great to see our families and old friends. But really, I’d almost always rather be at home, taking advantage of a quiet sunbeam with my little cat, Smudge. There is one thing thing though that gets me fired up to travel. You guessed it – food. And not just dining out. I’m talking grocery stores, co-ops, markets, road side stands. I always travel with a cooler. Because you just never know what you might find or how many left overs you’ll need to tote home.

This particular trip was only to the Twin Cities for more eye related business, but it did involve a fair amount of restaurant dining. My husband Mark and I don’t eat out very often when we’re on home turf. But when we do, we know we need to arrive at any given establishment at least by 8 pm, if not earlier. So I take secret pleasure in waltzing into a restaurant at 9:45 on a Friday night and being in the heart of a hip dinner crowd. Which was the case at Cafe Maude, where I thoroughly enjoyed a late night duck confit flatbread with blue cheese, chicory and balsamic. Oh my.
Despite my late night escapades, I must admit my favorite meal to have out is breakfast. So I was thrilled to catch up with my sister and brother-in-law and niece over a breakfast burrito at  Bryant Lake Bowl. But what’s even better than than the BLB’s luscious bean and egg burrito is the jalapeño studded fried potato slices that come along side it. And the 17 cups of really good coffee I consumed. At least it felt like 17 cups. We had lots of catching up to do. I relished every sip.
Somehow we managed to find room later in the afternoon for a couple of small plates of pork carnitas and refreshing salt rimmed margaritas at Bario’s Tequila Bar. And all before an evening of devouring Thai take-out from the Linden Hill based Naviya with my brother and his family. I love Thai take-out with my brother. He doesn’t mess around. An order of green curry, and another of red. A side of turkey egg rolls. Crazily good sesame infused lettuce wraps. Pad thai. It all gets spilled out onto the table for everyone to dip into. No one ever walks away hungry.
For better or worse, a series of appointments at the U of M put a temporary quell on our dinning spree. By the end, we only had eyes (npi) for home. We fled the city, but not without first fortifying ourselves with an above average basket of fish and chips and a pint of Furious on Repulic’s sun drenched patio – a new West Bank destination. It was so perfectly lovely that we almost stayed. Almost.
Back at home base we realized we had completely blown the April food budget (and then some). And only four days into it to boot. But that’s okay, we’ve had our fill. And honestly, after a few days of eating out, the thought of it doesn’t even appeal to me. Which is why I was especially thrilled to find a note from my friend Ella waiting in the mailbox with a recipe for one of her favorite salads enclosed. I skimmed the recipe and knew instantly that it would be a hit. Partially because I had everything I needed waiting in the fridge and also because it looked bold and fresh and raw. It was the perfect antidote to our gluttony.
There was no question that I was going to love the combination of flavors in this African salad, but until I tasted it, I didn’t realize exactly why. One bite though and it was perfectly clear. It has just the right amount of heat, a gentle bitterness that only arugula can provide, rich saltiness from the feta, and a tinge of sweet from the occasional rogue raisin. I’m pretty sure I could eat this over and over and taste something slightly new with each bite. There’s a lot going on is what I’m getting at.
I made a half recipe for the two of us and we pretty much polished off the entire platter. I even had a warm loaf of good crusty olive bread that I had picked up in the cities, but it sat mostly untouched. Warm loaves of good crusty bread hardly ever sit untouched in our house. Are you catching my drift here? This salad is amazing, in and of itself. I tried to think what I might serve it with at a dinner party. But all I could come up with is a glass of cold, crisp Sauvignon Blanc. It doesn’t need anything else. It doesn’t want anything else.
I think you could easily get by with halving the dressing – unless you like a heavily dressed salad. I made the full amount and had plenty left over. Which I guess is okay, since it means I will be soon be tossing up another bowl of veggies to pour it over.

North African Cauliflower Salad

Charmoula Dressing

3 cloves minced garlic
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
2 tablespoons paprika
1 1/2 teaspoons ground coriander
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 teaspoons caraway seeds, ground or crushed
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/4  teaspoon black pepper
1 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (use less if not kosher)
2 lemons, juiced
3/4 cup olive oil

Combine everything but lemon juice and olie oil in a medium bow. Whisk in lemon juice and oil. Let stand 30 minute or so while you prepare the salad

Salad

1 small head cauliflower
2 large carrots, grated or julienne
1/2 cup raisins
kosher salt to taste
1 large bunch of arugula
1 ounce feta cheese, crumbled

Separate the cauliflower into floret and cut into 1/4 inch thick slices. Either use raw, or steam for just 1-2 minutes until crisp-tender. Place in large bowl. Toss in the shredded carrots and raisins. Pour about half of the dressing over the vegetables, using a rubber spatula and mixing well. Add more dressing and salt to taste. Add in the arugula and toss lightly. Top with feta and serve. (Makes 6-8 servings)

recovery mode

Published March 18, 2012 pig slop , sweets 18 Comments
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Dorothy is right. There is, as it turns out, no place like home. Last week was a flat out whirlwind and being back home in my quiet little house has never felt better. And good news! All of your well wishes and hopeful thoughts for my eye seemed to have worked! It’ll be a bit of a waiting game to see how things settle out, but so far so good. So thanks for the energy. This little piggy appreciates it.

This latest procedure was far less invasive than my previous surgery, and really, looking at me, you’d never guess. My hands and forearms are more worse for the wear than my eye. My anesthesiologist was not nice. I have battle scars to prove it. I’ll refrain from using his name, but it coincidentally happens to rhyme with Dr. Mean. Still, he got the job done without serious issue, and for that I am thankful. My surgeon, on the other hand, I will boast about proudly. If you ever need a glaucoma specialist, Dr. Martha Wright is your woman. She knows her game.

This is me (obviously) with my surgery dream team – Mark and Earl. I could not do things like this with out them. They are the glue that holds me together. Pardon my post-surgery, post-nap hairdo. And Earl wants it to be known that I managed to get every shot he was looking his cutest in out of focus. Or at least more out of focus than this shot. I had a long day. And the light was lousy.

The only hard part that comes along with getting home is the inevitable game of catch-up. Which I am currently in the thick of. But I’m also still in recovery mode. And I’m milking that for all it is worth. It’s complicated though. Because for a myriad of reasons (most of which currently seem insane) I have been trying to, at least temporarily, avoid sugar. So I’ve been conflicted – lying on the couch, feeling like I deserve a cookie more than ever, yet still wanting to honor my decision not to eat sugar. Sigh.

I wrestled with this dilemma for a few days and finally resolved that I would bake one perfectly sublime treat in honor of my recovery. Just the one, and then I’d call it good. Here’s where the real torture ensued. What was it going to be? This amazing sounding chocolate-stout bundt cake that Heidi just published on 101 cookbooks? A batch of my favorite cupcakes?  A lovely, spring lemon pudding cake? I pulled out cookbooks. I thumbed though magazines. And then, out of left field, it came to me. Cream puffs.

I have never in my life made a cream puff. I’ve never even thought of making cream puffs. But this seemed as good of a reason as any to give it a go. I checked several books for a recipe with no luck. Finally, I resorted to the tried and true Joy, and sure enough, Irma has a detailed entry about Choux Paste and Cream Puffs. I did my prerequisite reading, gathered my supplies, and got to work.

The recipe looks a little daunting, but really it isn’t. I whipped the pastry cream up the night before and made my puffs the following morning. It was so thrilling when they actually puffed! I didn’t stray too far from Irma’s recipes, except I didn’t have whole milk. Oh, and as a nod to the Irish, I added a splash of Bailey’s to the pastry cream. That was a fine idea. I also decided to make my puffs more bite sized – which are technically called profiteroles and are generally filled with ice cream.

Cream puffs turned out to be an excellent choice in more ways than one. There really isn’t too much sugar involved. Just 1/3 cup, plus whatever lovely sweetness the Bailey’s has. Overall, the whole recipe doesn’t seem that bad – only a half stick of butter, a handful of eggs and just over a cup of milk. I’m capable of far worse damage – even in the best of times. And now that I’ve been appeased with a few cream puffs, things feel all the more manageable.

Cream Puffs
Adapted from Joy of Cooking

Pastry Cream:
1/3 cup sugar
2 tablespoons flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch
4 egg yolks, room temperature
1 1/3 cups milk
1-2 tablespoons Baileys Irish cream
3/4 teaspoon vanilla

Choux Paste:
1/4 cup water
1/4 cup whole milk
1/2 stick butter, cut into cubes
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup sifted flour
2 eggs, room temperature

For the Pastry Cream: Using a mixer, beat sugar, flour, cornstarch, and egg yolks on high speed until thick and pale yellow, about 2 minutes. Meanwhile, heat the milk in a heavy, medium saucepan and bring to a simmer. Slowly pour about one third of the hot milk into the egg mixture, stirring to combine. Scrape the egg mixture into the milk pan and cook, whisking constantly and scraping the bottom and corners of pan to prevent scorching, over low to medium heat until the custard is thick and begins to bubble. Continue to cook for one minute longer, whisking and scraping all the while. Using a clean spatula, scrape the custard into a clean bowl. Stir in baileys and vanilla. Cover the surface with plastic wrap to prevent a skin from forming. Let cool and then refigerate before using. Can be made up to 2 days ahead.

For the Choux Paste: Bring water, milk, butter and salt to a full boil over medium heat. Add the flour all at once and stir vigorously with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula until the mixture pulls away from the sides of the pan. Continue to cook and stir the mixture for about 1 minute, to eliminate excess moisture. Transfer to a large bowl and let cool for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Beat in one egg at a time by hand, with a wooden spoon, or on low speed with a mixer. Make sure the paste is smooth before adding the next egg. Beat the dough until it is smooth and shiny.

Scoop the paste into a pastry bag fitted with a 1/2 inch plain tip. Pipe the paste into 1-2 inch roundish mounds on an un-greased baking sheet. You can also just spoon out dollops of dough if you don’t have a pastry bag. Bake in a 400º F oven for 15 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 350º F and continue to bake until golden brown and very firm to the touch, about 20 minutes more. Turn off the oven. Use a skewer to poke a small hole in the bottom or side of each puff. Turn puffs upside down on the baking sheet, and let dry in the oven for 10 minutes. Remove to a rack and let cool to room temperature before filling.

To fill the cream puffs: Either slice the tops from the puffs and spoon in filling, OR use a pastry bag fitted with a long narrow tip to pipe filling into puffs via the air hole poked into the side or bottom. Sprinkle the puffs with confectioners sugar and serve immediately. Makes about 24 bite size puffs, or 15 large puffs.

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