Thursday, March 26, 2015

Thursday Thought

This Morning
It's time. It's almost too late.
Did you see the magnolia light its pink fires?
You could be your own, unknown self.
No one is keeping it from you.

The magnolia lights its pink fires, 
daffodils shed paper sheaths.
No one is keeping you from it-
your church of window, pen, and morning.

Daffodils undress, shed papery sheaths-
gestures invisible to the eye.
In the church of window, pen, and morning,
what unfolds at frequencies we can't see.

Gestures invisible to the naked eye,
the garden opens, an untranslatable book
written at a frequency we can't see.
Not a psalm, exactly, but a segue.

The garden opens, an untranslatable book.
You can be your own, unknown self- 
not a psalm, but a segue.
It's time.

From Elizabeth Austen's collection Every Dress a Decision

This morning, I sit at my window (no pen in hand, but Chromebook instead) and the springtime calls to me. So does the warmth of my aqua fleece blanket with birds on it, a gift from my brother and sister-in-law (¨put a bird on it¨). No one but myself is keeping me from the outdoors. While I don't have a garden, my bicycle route to work is filled with daffodils and magnolias and other markers of spring. Will I heed the call? Become the self that I am outdoors? Or remain closed up an extra half hour for reading, writing, drinking tea? Only time will tell.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Mediterranean-style Beef Stew - Recipe #85

I originally planned to make this recipe a month or so ago, until I came to the mystery ingredient ¨salt pork¨. I'm certain that this is one of the dry goods mentioned in the Little House books, but it is not something that I could find at my friendly neighborhood grocery store. The woman at DeLaurenti was similarly stumped, but she sent me to Don and Joe's Meats (also in the Market) saying that even if they didn't have it, they would know where to find it. I peered at every stick of salami and sausage before giving in and actually asking at the counter.

¨How much do you need?¨
¨2 ounces.¨
¨I can't give you that little.¨
¨Well, what size can I get?¨

He walks over to the freezer and pulls out a half pound or so. Relieved that it is not a 10 pound portion, I eagerly take it.

¨This seems to be a bit hard to come by,¨ I venture.
¨It's really more from your parents' generation. It's fallen out of favor,¨ he explains - which makes sense, since this is another of my aunt's recipes.

After all of the trouble I went to to get the salt pork, I was disappointed to read the recipe and discover that you merely use the meat for its fat and then completely discard it. Maybe next time I'll just use bacon grease (and eat the bacon). All complaining aside, this was delicious - one of Trent's favorites of the recent recipes (and mine too). Certainly perfect for a cloudy Sunday.

Mediterranean-style Beef Stew
  • 2 c. dry red wine
  • 1 medium onion chopped, 1/2 c.
  • 2 loves garlic,  minced
  • 1 T. vinegar (I used red-wine vinegar)
  • 1 t. salt
  • 1/4 t. pepper
  • 1/2 t. dried rosemary, crushed
  • 1/2 t. dried thyme, crushed
  • 1/2 t. finely shredded orange peel
  • 2 to 2 1/2 lbs. beef stew meat, cut in 1-inch cubes
  • 2 oz. salt pork
  • 1/2 c. beef broth (or perhaps it is half a can - the recipe just says ¨1/2 beef broth¨)
  • 6 carrots, bias-cut in 1-inch pieces
  • 3 onions, quartered
  • 1 c. pitted ripe olives (I used kalamata)
  • 2 T. cornstarch
  • 2 T. cold water
Combine wine, the 1/2 c. onion, garlic, vinegar, salt, pepper, rosemary, thyme and orange peel. Add beef; stir to coat. Cover and marinate at room temperature for 2 hours. Drain meat, reserving marinade; pat meat dry with paper toweling. In 4-quart Dutch oven cook salt pork till there are 2-3 T. fat; discard pork. Brown meat in the hot fat. Add marinade and broth; bring to boiling. Cover; simmer 1 hour. Add vegetables and olives; simmer covered, 30 to 40 minutes. Blend cornstarch and water; add to pot. Cook and stir until bubbly. Turn into bowl; top with parsley, if desired.

Monday, March 23, 2015

Crostini alla Spuma di Mortadella - Recipe #84

Originally I planned to prepare this with the lasagna alla rucola, but when it came right down to it, neither Trent nor I was hungry enough for an appetizer AND main course. I pulled out the recipe again for an easy Sunday lunch option. Somehow, over the past year or two we've shifted from going out to coffee and pastry one of the weekend days to coffee and lunch (often with a sweet dessert) both Saturday and Sunday, and I was feeling it was time to have a quiet meal at home.

This is another of my aunt's Tuscany cooking class recipes and another which required a trip to DeLaurenti, for no matter how many deli meat cases I perused, I never saw mortadella bologna at the grocery store. While this cheese/meat dip was delicious on toasty bread slices, I'm sure I won't make it often because of the hassle factor - Pike Place Market is not on my normal circuit.

Crostini alla Spuma di Mortadella
  • 5.3 oz. or 1 c. mortadella bologna (150 g.)
  • 3 oz. or 1/2 c. ricotta (75-90 g.)
  • 2 oz. or 1/4 c. freshly grated parmigiano (50 g.)
  • Whole milk q.b.
  • 3 T. cream (I didn't end up needing any, as the consistency was perfect without)
  • Grilled crusty bread slices
Mix well in a food processor with all the ingredients except cream. The whole milk will make it chop up correctly. If you want to make mixture softer, add cream. Spread on grilled slices of good crusty bread slices.

Note: Mortadella is made with pure pork, has no smoking, cooked by a steam process, and usually contains at least 15% small pearly white nodules of pig fat which are evenly distributed.

After eating, we headed out to Revolution for coffee and a currant pecan scone to share over a couple of games of Boggle. A nice cozy afternoon with a much smaller bill than when we add in two lunches, even when you add in the cost of the DeLaurenti field trip.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Lasagne alla Rucola - Recipe #83

Over two weeks since my last Recipe Challenge recipe. I've slowed down a bit for a few reasons:

  1. I have many dessert recipes left, but not so many main courses, sides or appetizers. Not only are some of my clothes fitting a wee bit tighter, but I found out recently that fairly soon my father will have to go on dialysis due to kidney disease, which is of course related to his diabetes and uncontrolled blood sugar, which leads back to that white poison, contained within each and every one of my dessert recipes (okay, some of them have brown sugar instead).
  2. Many of my remaining recipes either require special ingredients or a long cooking or marinating time, which requires more planning then heading out to the grocery store after work for a few items.
  3. I've worked part of both of the last two weekends and somehow splitting my days off leaves me feeling more frazzled.
  4. I've started a side challenge, where I must cook 5 recipes each from two of my lesser used cookbooks by April 30, else they face the chopping block.
But this weekend I had the luxury of time. I had Friday off as my day for working Sunday. Trent had to work, so I was left to my own devices which included:
  • Walking to Neptune Coffee for knitting and coffee with a friend
  • Haircut and highlights at Aria Salon with the fabulous Tamara, who I've been seeing for over ten years
  • A croissant from Crumble and Flake (at Tamara's recommendation) on my way walking downtown from Capitol Hill
  • Field trip to DeLaurenti at Pike Place Market to pick up numerous specialty ingredients required for my next few recipes
  • Lazy nap on the couch
  • Reading The Woman I Wanted to Be and Every Dress a Decision (a book by Elizabeth Austen the Washington State poet laureate who will soon be visiting my library)
  • Fixing a delectable dinner of pan-fried salmon, saffron-scallion couscous (one of my side challenge recipes) and kale salad
Saturday we went sailing on our friend's 47' boat - only the second time it's been sailing on the Sound. It was a bit dicey for a few moments, as the engine died before we left the breakwater and we started losing steering with rocks to our port side and expensive boats to starboard on a very windy day, with wind speed in the upper twenties. Fortunately there was a large slip available right when we needed it and both captain and crew remained relatively calm and in control (no yelling or swearing). After some engine work, we set off again for a few hours. We continued to be haunted by engine trouble, which was only an issue when we noticed a tug approaching rather quickly in the shipping lanes and getting ready to dock again.

After post-sail happy hour, Trent and I headed to Rock Lobster to do a bit of boat work before heading home, sore and a wee bit exhausted. By that point I knew I had to move right into dinner prep if we didn't want to order out for dinner, since I feared that once I collapsed I would not get up again. It was well worth it - the perfect post-sail cozy dinner. This is another of the recipes that I got from my aunt, courtesy of her cooking class in Tuscany. While I enjoyed making it, I feel as though I would have enjoyed it even more had I been to Tuscany. Ah well, maybe in the next year or two...

Lasagne alla Rucola
  • sheets of lasagna noodles (quantity depends on size & thickness - available from DeLaurentis at Pike Place Market - I bought 6 at their recommendation)
  • 7 oz. or 1 c. sweet gorgonzola (200 g.), remove rind*
  • Milk q.b. (whatever's best)
  • 10.6 oz. or 1 1/2 c. ricotta (sheep) (300 g.)
  • 7 oz. or 1 c. cream (200 g.)
  • 1 c. grated parmigiano
  • 4 oz. baby rucola (aka arugula)
  • butter
  • garlic
  • pine nuts
  • shallots, very thinly sliced
  • dash nutmeg, freshly grated
  • salt and pepper
Cook lasagna in lots of boiling water (if fresh lasagna with egg, add oil to the water). Mix gorgonzola with a little milk, add ricotta, cream and a good handful of freshly grated parmiagiano. Adjust with salt, pepper and nutmeg.

Chop rucola thinly, but keep some whole leaves for garnish. Saute rucola in butter and a clove of garlic. Add to the mixture. Lightly saute pine nuts (which brings out their nutty flavor) and one shallot in butter and put aside.

Butter a baking dish, add some milk, put a layer of lasagna noodle, a layer of mixture, and repeat until you finish the ingredients (4 layers maximum). Don't be stingy with sauce on the top, but you can be cautious throughout the dish. Garnish with grated parmiagiano, pine nuts and shallots. Cover with aluminum foil since rucola is sensitive. Cook in 350 degree oven for approximately 20 minutes (mine took quite a bit longer)

*If you cannot find ¨sweet¨ gorgonzola, reduce amount of regular gorgonzola and increase ricotta.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Thursday Thought

Basketball Rule #3
Never let anyone
lower your goals.
Others' expectations 
of you are determined
by their limitations
of life.
The sky is your limit, sons.
Always shoot
for the sun
and you will shine.

The Crossover by Kwame Alexander

I just finished this year's Newbery Medal-winning book, a novel in free verse focusing on twin seventh-grade basketball phenoms and their dad, a former star. A fast read and quite enjoyable, though parts of it hit a little too close to home (no spoilers here though).

Growing up, I had plenty of faith in my academic abilities, but let money worries keep me from dreaming big dreams of fancy colleges and trips (less to avoid my own disappointment and more to protect my parents). It's taken a while to get past a scarcity mentality, but now I enjoy dreaming big at work and more in my personal life as well. After all, if you don't ask, the answer is always ¨no¨. I'm trying to turn the ¨why can't we?¨ question into ¨how can we make this work?¨

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Thursday Thought

¨There were all kinds of things of which I was afraid at first, but by acting as if I was not afraid I gradually ceased to be afraid.¨
Theodore Roosevelt quoted in The Bully Pulpit by Doris Kearns Goodwin

When I first started supervising, I was afraid that I might not enjoy it or be good at it - that I might not measure up as the ¨boss¨. So I used the old trick ¨fake it, til you make it¨, put on a smile, stood tall, spoke loud and clear (even when asking someone for help), and in the process convinced myself that I really could do it.

The first long trip that Trent and I went on with Rock Lobster was to Gig Harbor. It was a windy day and I was terrified by how far I had to reach for the tiller and how much the boat was heeling over, wondering if I was going to go overboard. I kept telling myself that we probably wouldn't die and tried to hide my panic. I don't know that I was entirely successful, but I kept at it and my heart no longer palpitates when Trent goes down below to put on an extra layer of clothing or grab a snack for us.

The first time I taught a class to childcare providers, I calmed my nerves before the class with power poses - the superwoman and V for victory. I listened to my one of favorite pre-storytime CDs and told myself that they'd learn a lot and have fun doing it (and judging from the evaluations, they did).

I'm 70 pages into the 750 page book (plus 150 pages of notes, index, etc.) and I can't wait to see what other words of wisdom I can cull from my other favorite Roosevelt.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Apricot-Cream Cheese Braid - Recipe #82

Growing up, our neighborhood bakery, Blake's, served pastries galore: raspberry flips, the best maple bars ever and cream cheese danishes. Looking at the title of my latest recipe, I thought I'd be getting something bread-y, but this is really more reminiscent of Blake's cream cheese danishes. The canny reader will also notice that these loaves are not braids at all, but that does not detract from the flavor. I love this recipe, but I may never make it again, as I have a hard time resisting just one extra little slice. It makes four loaves, so be prepared to share with friends (I brought a small piece to my dad and a whole loaf for my good friends who live across the street from him - it was too much for them, so they shared it at an event the next day). This was my first time making this recipe since clipping it out of a Cooking Light magazine in December 2002.

Dough:
  • 1/2 c. granulated sugar
  • 1/3 c. butter
  • 1/2 t. salt
  • 1 (8 oz) carton light sour cream
  • 2 packages dry yeast (about 4 1/2 t.)
  • 1/2 c. warm water (100-110 Degrees)
  • 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
  • 4 c. all-purpose flour
Filling:
  • 2/3 c. apricot preserves
  • 1/4 c. granulated sugar
  • 1 t. vanilla extract
  • 2 (8-oz.) blocks 1/3-less-fat cream cheese, softened
  • 1 large egg, lightly beaten
Glaze:
  • 1 1/2 c. sifted powdered sugar
  • 2 T. fat-free milk
  • 1 t. vanilla extract
To prepare dough, combine first 4 ingredients in a saucepan over medium heat, stirring until sugar dissolves. Remove from heat; cool. Dissolve yeast in warm water in a large bowl; let stand 5 minutes. Stir in sour cream mixture and 2 eggs. Lightly spoon flour into dry measuring cups; level with a knife.. Gradually stir flour into sour cream mixture (dough will be soft and sticky). Cover dough; chill 8 hours or overnight.

To prepare filling, combine preserves and next 4 ingredients in a medium bowl; beat with mixer at medium speed until well blended.

Divide dough into 4 equal portions. Turn each portion out onto a lightly floured surface; knead lightly 4 or 5 times. Roll each portion into a 12 x 8 inch rectangle. Spread one-fourth of filling over each portion, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Starting at a long side, carefully roll up each portion jelly roll fashion; pinch seam and ends to seal.

Place 2 loaves on each of 2 baking sheets covered with cooking spray (or a Silpat). Cut 4 (1/4-inch-deep) ¨X¨s on top of each loaf with scissors. Cover land let rise in a warm place 25 minutes or until doubled in size.

Preheat oven to 375.

Place 1 baking sheet in oven (cover remaining loaves to keep from drying). Bake at 375 for 15 minutes or until lightly browned. Repeat procedure with remaining loaves. Cool loaves slightly.

To prepare glaze, combine powdered sugar, milk and 1 t. vanilla, stirring with a whisk. Drizzle warm loaves with glaze.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Thursday Thought

A Certain Peace by Nikki Giovanni
it was very pleasant
not having you around
this afternoon

not that I don't love you
and want you and need you
and love loving and wanting and needing you

but there was a certain peace
when you walked out the door
and i knew you would do something
you wanted to do
and i could run
a tub full of water
and not worry about answering the phone
for your call
and soak in bubbles
and not worry whether you would want something
special for dinner
and rub lotion all over me
for as long as i wanted
and not worry if you had a good idea
or wanted to use the bathroom
and there was a certain excitement
when after midnight you came home
and we had coffee
and i had a day of mine
that made me as happy
as yours did you
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -
There is something rejuvenating about time spent doing exactly what one wants to do - no matter how much we value spending time with our partners. For me, a short absence really does make the heart grow fonder. I truly miss weekend time together it if caused by circumstances beyond our control (e.g. work or other obligations). But I am eager for sail race days - those delicious days where I can wander to the Farmer's Market (without wondering what's going on at home) or nap or bathe or eat popcorn and green smoothies at mealtime - knowing that Trent will come home wind-blown and exhilarated. Our happy time apart makes our time together even sweeter.

While flipping through The Collected Poetry of Nikki Giovanni, 1968-1998 (which I picked up after enjoying her collection Bicycles, which I admittedly checked out solely based on the title) I came across this poem and painstakingly wrote it down in my little green book because it captures just how I feel. I'm not the only one either - a number of friends have told me that (as much as they love their sweeties), they love it when their significant others go out for a guy's night or a wilderness survival trip, leaving time to curl up in a warm blanket and read or watch chick flicks. And like me, they whisper it a little guiltily - as though cherishing solitude means you are on the verge of a break-up. Has anyone else noticed this? And how do you spend your ¨me time¨?

Monday, March 2, 2015

Benne Wafers - Recipe #81

This recipe is an add-on - one that was not in my original batch of loose recipes when I began the Recipe Challenge. I've added a few others to the mix, but this was the first that I added at someone else's request. In July and August I'll be chaperoning a trip to Tanzania, visiting a school and going on safari after a layover in Amsterdam to help combat what is sure to be heavy jet-lag. As part of the preparation for the trip, our group is committed to raising funds for the school, to help them complete their science building as well as getting all of the classes out of the dormitories. In this spirit, we hosted a dinner on Saturday. While dinner was taken care of by a number of other kitchen crew, I agreed, along with two others, to make two batches of Benne Wafers to be served with ice cream.

According to the paragraph in the King Arthur Flour recipe, sesame was probably first grown in Africa before these cookies became popular in the low country of South Carolina. A tenuous connection at best, but enough that we provided them for our ¨African Dinner¨.

These had a very interesting flavor to them - incredibly rich, you won't want to eat too many in one sitting. I realized after getting toward the end of portioning the first two batches that either the quantities listed were wrong or my tablespoon portions are larger than the norm - I was supposed to make 1/3 of 200 cookies and I only had 51. Fortunately, I had just enough sesame seeds to make a third batch. I mixed the dough immediately after toasting the sesame seeds, as I was in a time crunch. I recommend not following my lead and possibly even chill the dough to keep it from spreading as much.

  • 1/2 c. (1 stick) unsalted butter
  • 1 c. light brown sugar, firmly packed (one of my co-bakers recommended dark brown sugar, so I used that)
  • 1/4 t. salt
  • 1/4 t. baking soda
  • 1 t. vanilla
  • 1 egg
  • 1 c. flour
  • 1 c. toasted sesame seeds
In a large mixing bowl, cream together the butter, sugar, salt, vanilla, baking soda, and egg. Add the flour and mix till smooth. Stir in the sesame seeds.

Drop the dough by tablespoonsfuls onto parchment-lined or lightly greased baking sheets. Bake the wafers in a 350 degree oven for 8 to 9 minutes, or until they're golden brown (mine took several minutes more). Remove them from the oven, allow them to cool for 1 minute on the pan, then transfer teh wafers to a wire rack to cool completely.

Yield: Supposedly 3 dozen 3-inch cookies, though mine made about 2 dozen

Warning: Be careful as you reuse the cookie sheets that there is nothing left to crisp on the pan - in the homestretch my smoke detector went off, which usually only happens if the oven is set to 450 or broil.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Artichoke Sauce - Recipe #80

The first time I ever ate an artichoke was in fifth grade. I was spending the night at a friend's house. Her parents had rooms full of bookshelves filled with Nabokov, listened to NPR during Sunday morning pancake breakfast and took us to an event at the Bellevue Art Museum for fun. Their lives felt slightly more bohemian than ours and parts of my own adult life remind me of them. While my lunches were full of standard fruit like apples, oranges, or bananas, my friend would bring pomegranates, so it was no surprise that I would try something new there. What was surprising was what a revelation the artichoke was. After a brief lesson in how to scrape the leaves with your teeth as you work your way to the heart, I was off and running, dipping my leaves in melted butter with reckless abandon.

While it is still a special occasion vegetable (due to cost and availability), both Trent and I appreciate an artichoke every now and then. Nowadays, we most frequently dip the leaves in an aioli from one of the Moosewood cookbooks. However, in Trent's younger days, he most often accompanied artichokes with this sauce recipe that his mother passed on to me.

  • 1 pint sour cream
  • 1/4 to 1/3 cup milk
  • 5 to 6 tsp. cider vinegar (can also use wine or flavored vinegar)
  • 1 tsp. salt
  • 1/4 tsp. pepper
Heat until hot, but do not let boil. Adjust milk to make sauce desired consistency. Adjust cider to personal taste.

I made a half recipe and Trent mentioned it was a bit salty (which is unusual for him), so if you make it, you may want to cut back a bit.