Eat Well at Home

Yeast Rolls with Sally Weisenberger

2011-09-17T10:18:00.001-07:00

Savory...

Or sweet?

You decide.

I had the good fortune to be invited to a "Christmas in July" party this summer. Yes this is a late post. (Not as late as you think because it was actually in August, but who has ever heard of a "Christmas in August" party? No one, that's who.)

Sally Weisenberger was our guest of honor, and she brought her famous yeast roll and cinnamon roll fixins... and starring at center stage, Kentucky Proud, was Weisenberger Mill flour, of course.

Notice that sticker near the bottom? That tells us which Kentucky farm grew the wheat. If that doesn't stir up a locavore flame in your heart, then I give up on you.

Did I say this was health food? No I didn't. This is special occasion kind of stuff.

Got Buttah?

Sally shared her Aunt Gladys Hutchison's cherished recipe, and we enjoyed both savory and sweet delights.

For Sweet rolls: Roll dough to about half an inch thick, spread melted butter, cinnamon and sugar, and roll up, jelly-roll style. Cut them about an inch wide, and place cut side down in -- yes, more melted butter.

Bake for 15 minutes, or until lightly browned. Ice with a powdered sugar glaze (with water or milk) and a touch of vanilla.

And for the dinner rolls:
Dough is rolled out to half an inch
thick again, cut in circles, then folded
over and placed in a baking pan
with -- melted butter.

Mercy!

Thanks for having an August Christmas party Jackie!
(click here for more pics of the event)
And Sally, thanks for sharing this wonderful recipe. Without further ado, here it is:

(disclaimer: This is the first time I've posted anything containing shortening. This old-fashioned taste may be worth falling off the hydrogenated fat wagon.)

Yeast Rolls

2 cups water
1 cup Crisco shortening
2/3 cup sugar
2 eggs
6 cups unbleached, soft wheat flour
1 TBL salt
2 TBL yeast

Boil 2 cups of water, add Crisco and sugar, mix and let cool (cool enough for the eggs)
Add the 2 beaten eggs and whisk to mix
Add this wet mixture to the dry -- flour, salt and yeast
Mix together (may use dough hook) -- dough will be wet
Cover in a plastic container and place in refrigerator for at least 4 hours, preferably overnight (make sure to use a large enough bowl which will allow the dough room to rise)

Take from refrigerator and on a floured surface, roll about 1/2 the dough at a time to a thickness of about 1/2 inch. Using a biscuit cutter, cut dough in circles and fold over once. Place in greased pans (grease with melted butter).

Cover and let rise until double (at least one hour).
Bake at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes or until lightly browned.

Yields 48-60 rolls, depending on size. These freeze well.

Green Garlic

2011-05-23T09:35:00.000-07:00

My husband was going to be on Southland Drive Sunday, so as he was leaving I asked him to stop by the Farmers Market and pick up a vegetable for dinner. I had everything else already, and he would save me a trip to the store. (I was on a roll with some much-procrastinated spring cleaning.)

He comes home with green garlic.

I should tell you that my husband is "a lost ball in high weeds" (his phrase) when it comes to food shopping. He's also a financial planner, and the price was right. Normally $3 a bunch, the guy from Elmwood Stock Farm sold him 2 bunches for $2. How could he resist? (There's a good reason to go to the market late on Sunday, btw.)

Yes, it's a sign of spring. Yes, it's delicious. But as a side vegetable? I had always thought of it as an aromatic.

I had let my hair dry by itself, so there was no way I was going to leave the house. So...

I chopped up the root ends, and let them sweat in 1-2 Tablespoons olive oil over med-low heat.

After about 5 minutes I coarsely chopped the greens and added them to the pan with some salt and pepper, and turned up the heat a bit.

I reserved some of the greens, minced them finely, and added them to buttermilk cornbread batter.

When the green garlic was starting to brown, it was time to deglaze.

I poured in 1/2 cup of chicken stock and did the scraping thing.

I covered it, and let it simmer for about 5 minutes.

When I raised the lid, I discovered that most of the stock had been absorbed. I left the lid off a few minutes, to reduce further (didn't want it dripping) and finished it with the teeniest knob of butter. And speaking of reducing, one whole bunch doesn't amount to much at the end of the day. I should have done both of them -- it was our vegetable after all.

The cornbread was delicious, with a lovely infusion of garlic.

Baked flounder on a bed of green garlic.
I think I'll send Hubs out for vegetables again.

Earth Day Project a la The Boy

2011-05-04T17:15:00.001-07:00

The boy and I recently tried a roasted radish recipe from the nice folks at White on Rice .

His Earth Day project was "Eating Seasonally." In addition to video of Farmers Market interviews, his classroom project included a slideshow of the preparation of this dish. He allowed plenty of help uploading the slideshow, but insisted on collaborating on the captions:)

Enjoy the show!

PS: He chose to leave out the freshly ground pepper AMA. (Against Maternal Advice)

Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Homemade Potato ...er, I mean Turnip Chips

2009-11-13T06:30:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago, I picked up my son from school, and immediately upon climbing in (amid my usual, "Come on, there's a long line!") he excitedly hands me a note. Like most things he brings home from first grade, it's rolled or folded into the smallest package possible. Maybe he thinks that makes it easier to carry. I unfolded his note and read the precise school teacher handwriting which said, "Recipe for turnip chips?"

Hmm.

I had never actually made turnip chips before. It was time to ask the boy. It went something like this:

Me: Am I supposed to find a recipe for your class? Are you studying turnips?

Boy: My teacher wants the recipe you make. I told her about it.

Me: But I've never made turnip chips.

Boy: You know, the ones you make where some are really crispy and some are really soft, and they're really delicious. Those turnip chips.

(I must interject here. What mother doesn't glow when her son waxes poetic about a vegetable?)

Me: Oh -- you mean the potato chips I make?

Boy: Those are potatoes?

This went on a while, and we ended up deciding to roast some turnip chips. The original potato recipe isn't something I would have blogged about. It's not really even a recipe; I just slice potatoes and roast them. But here goes -- this is for the boy:

I peeled three turnips, and sliced them into rounds. I do this by hand for two reasons: I like the rustic look of irregular slices, and the way they cook up (that's what the boy meant when he said some were crispy and some were soft); and just looking at my mandoline makes my fingers instinctively curl up in self-preservation mode.

I toss them in a large bowl with 3 Tablespoons olive oil, salt and freshly cracked pepper, and dried thyme. Any combination of dried herbs will work here. (Rubbed sage might be great this time of year, Herbes de Provence would be nice earlier in the season...go wild.) Use a large enough bowl to really throw them around. It's not a bad idea to reach in there with your hands and make sure all the slices are seasoned on both sides.

I spray a baking sheet with non-stick spray, and arrange the slices as evenly as possible. They will overlap a bit; just let them.

Roast them at 375 degrees. After about 15 minutes, rotate the baking sheet. After another 15 minutes, turn the "chips" over with a spatula, then roast 10 or 15 minutes more. They will shrink up quite a bit.

These chips don't quite make it to crispy. They are so absolutely delicious, however, that it doesn't matter. The slow-roasting brings out incredible sweetness and the caramelized edges develop a lovely chewiness. Now that I know how they behave with this treatment, I can't wait to fan them out over a serving platter and top them with grilled fish. Or roasted chicken. Or whatever.

Okay, so I love eggs.

2009-07-08T16:51:00.000-07:00

What's not to love?

Unless you're my husband, of course, who has unfortunate reactions to their visceral, earthy aroma when cooking. (Too much like a ... you know. The polite word we use with our 6 year old is "toot") (Month of Suppers, Day 19)

But is there anything more satisfying? Not to a mama and her boy when Daddy is at a conference!

I had a semi-complex meal planned, and my son announced his great idea. All of the sudden, discussion was over; boiling, peeling and mashing were in order.

The first picture is of David's egg, peeled by his hand, on one of his favorite John Deer plates. (I was afraid he might not like egg salad.) But something magical happens when a child helps mash together ingredients...he will actually taste it!

And tonight -- he liked it.

(I look high and low for a ripe tomato, but no luck tonight. I did add some fresh dill -- a perfect punch of flavor.)

Month of Suppers Project

2009-06-30T10:43:00.000-07:00

Day 5: Grilled chicken over jasmine rice topped with avocado-corn-tomato relish,

with green beans, crisp green salad and buttermilk cornbread

This is day 11, and I'm more and more impressed by E.F.'s tenacity!

He has been creating dolls, while I'm shooting for a month of creative meals -- hopefully with no repeats. I can see why he used the term, "creativity boot camp." The biggest challenge so far has been to deal with left-overs. Like most families, every 3 nights (or so) we usually make a meal out of them. Frugal? Time saving? Fridge de-cluttering? All the above. For now, I'm either serving left-overs for lunch, or freezing them. I really must work on cooking for 3!

Follow me on twitter (eatwellathome) for daily updates. Photos and brief descriptions are on my flickr site here.

Blessed Cornbread Suppers

2009-06-22T17:59:00.000-07:00

I'm lucky to live in Lexington, Kentucky. Sure, there's all that bourbon and horses stuff. But a less publicized jewel in our crown takes place every Monday night on Campsie Place.

There is no need for me to tell the Cornbread Suppers story. Rona explains it beautifully here. It's a glorious thing Steve and Rona do, week after week. Those of us who hunger for a little fellowship, a little comfort or stimulation, and of course -- food, show up. With or without a contribution, we are welcome. We are nourished.

Our hosts make lots of cornbread (usually advertised in advance on facebook), and guests bring a dish (or not -- no pressure). Rona has a small pad of paper conveniently at the ready, and we label our contributions as we set them on the large table in the dining room. Tonight we tasted Rona's fabulous cornbread with garlic from Blue Moon Farm (vegetarian and bacon-y version available),

Red and golden beets, and much more:

The buffet table overflowed tonight with pesto pasta salad, whole wheat fusilli, fresh green salad with balsamic vinaigrette, roasted pork loin, apple pie, watermelon soup... truly a feast.

Thank you S and R for such a generous community spirit!

Inspiration

2009-06-20T20:45:00.000-07:00

This article (Or rather, this person) has inspired me. I'd like to jump in and say/do something equally grand, but I know myself. I will start with baby steps.

Besides the fabulous community-spirited and generous nature of EF's project, I am impressed by the commitment he has kept. If I did anything every day for a month, it would be a great achievement. Blogging is a sporadic activity. Eating, however, is something I do every day.

My husband has said that he has never eaten the same meal twice since being married to me. I'm hereby challenging myself: I will post every evening meal my family has for one month, via this blog or twitter -- (let's face it, not all meals are fully blog-worthy and should be limited to 140 characters!). This will be "warts and all." I promise to admit to those jaunts out for Mexican, and you may even be disheartened by a frozen lasagna saga. My goal here is to document how we really eat at home. I hope it turns out "well."

Let's get this party started!

Tonight: Marinated Flat Iron Steak, grilled to Medium-Rare, and thinly sliced across the grain:

Zucchini and summer squash, diced and sauteed in olive oil with garlic, grape tomato and fresh basil (from the garden!),

Baked potatoes, rubbed with olive oil and kosher salt.

A bit later:

Sliced strawberries macerated in a tad bit of sugar, served with vanilla bean ice cream.

Follow me on twitter at "eatwellathome" keep me accountable! If I can do this, bigger and better things are to come!

Pommery Mustard Redux

2009-06-02T10:31:00.000-07:00

I'll say it again. This is the best mustard in the world.

For a wonderful and easy sauce, add 2 Tablespoons Pommery Mustard to 1/2 cup heavy cream. Bring it to a boil and let it roll...

until it reduces and thickens to a creamy consistency which will coat the back of your spoon. Remove from heat and add fresh dill. (Oops, I didn't measure my dill. 1 -2 teaspoons and you can't go wrong...)

This sauce is delicious on grilled chicken, roasted asparagus, a spoon... I ladled it over broiled Atlantic Salmon.

Now I have a real dilemma. Will someone please come to my rescue?

One of my favorite places...

2009-05-25T08:58:00.000-07:00

On East Maxwell Street in Lexington, there is a piece of heaven.

The fabulous greenhouses of Michler's Florist have been blessing this area for 107 years and counting. Read all about their rich heritage here. This post is about the experience that a simple visit to Michler's can provide.

When we make a trip to Michler's, I usually chant the "I look frightful, hope I don't see anyone I know" mantra. And with bits of dirt and sweat streaking through my sunscreen, I tuck my messy ponytail under my garden hat and face the music. Inevitably, I run into people I haven't seen in forever.

But an enchanting spell has been cast over the entrance, and all who pass through are transformed. We become bonded together as Keepers of the Earth. Total strangers (and those people I haven't seen in forever) share gardening hints, tell stories about their favorite plants, talk about the pesto still in their freezer from last summer's basil harvest... Time slows to a crawl. Everybody loves everybody.

I stroll through the never-ending maze of greenhouses, suddenly quite sure that I am capable of nurturing such a healthy, lush garden. This heavy dose of inspired confidence shocks me back to reality, but not before I've fantasized about giving up everything material, joining a commune, and just growing stuff.

We wanted at least one of everything, but stayed strong and focused on tomato plants and herbs. For now. I'll need another dose soon.

Kale (my way)

2009-05-16T14:30:00.000-07:00

I love me some kale.

Not the soft, tender kale with bacon fat so customary on soul food and comfort food menus. (Not that I haven't bellied up to that counter more than once.) I want my kale to have a little fight left in it. A little less fat. Tons of flavor. And I ain't afraid of that other F word either. (Fiber -- what were you thinking?)

If you've been known to reach past the velvety, baby spinach leaves for that wrinkly, full-bodied curly spinach, then keep reading. This toothsome recipe is for you.

Clean and dry one bunch kale, and discard the thick center stems. In a hot pan, drizzle about 2 TBL olive oil. Let it get hot, and then add as much kale as will fit. Turn it over with tongs, and as it shrinks in your pan (amazingly, I might add) add the rest of the kale.

After about 5 minutes on medium heat, clear a spot in the middle to add 1 - 2 cloves chopped garlic. (I usually add a bit more olive oil with it.)

Once the garlic is golden brown, sautee everything together, adding salt and fresh cracked pepper to taste. (It's dangerous to salt kale too early -- the sheer volume at the start practically guarantees over-salting.) When the bottom of the pan developes a good color, you know it's time to de-glaze.

I used about 2 TBL balsamic vinegar, and a dash of hot sauce isn't a bad idea at this point.

The finished product...

If you don't enjoy quite so much of that delighful texture, top it with a lid after the de-glazing, and let it steam in very low heat for 5 - 10 minutes. Enjoy!

Garden Updates:

Still cleaning up and discovering what has come back. I found this dill...

the sage flowers

Here is the herb garden, ready for new plantings.
The weeds and thistles filled my wheelbarrow (but not my assistant's...hmmm). Here is a newly-tilled patch, ready for tomatoes and...we'll see. I'd better get busy -- as usual, I'm a little late.

My Garlic Jar

2009-05-09T19:49:00.000-07:00

This little jar is one of my most favorite things.

When I moved from New York to Seattle years ago, I took what I could carry with me on Amtrak, and I also stuffed a few large boxes to follow me via UPS. As you can imagine -- pots, pans, and other matters culinary were not the bulk of "what made the cut." As I finally got settled, it was like starting from scratch when it came to my little apartment kitchen. What fun that was. Really.

There was a fantastic business in my Capitol Hill neighborhood called Chicken Soup. Donated items were sold and the proceeds went to support AIDS patients in the area. Someone had donated a set of glass canisters -- in graduated sizes -- and I just had to have them all. One for pasta, one for rice, one for flour, one for sugar... The price was right. It was for a good cause. And they were so darned sweet! But I'm getting too far from my topic.

This jar was the smallest of the bunch. It's plain old glass; nothing fancy. The little dome lid fits perfectly inside the lip. It doesn't have a rubber seal to retain the garlic ... perfume. There are only 2 ingredients that ever go in it -- real chopped garlic and olive oil.

I'm not talking about that pre-diced stuff you find at the store (laced with who knows what). Frankly, that doesn't taste remotely like the real thing. It may even suffer from CAS (Canned Asparagus Syndrome -- the canned stuff becomes different enough to actually be considered a separate food). And it's packed in a watery, briny liquid. Water and oil don't mix. Think about that when you're adding that wet stuff to hot oil in a saute pan. One more negative: it's too finely minced. There's no wiggle room to play around with the strength factor. (A larger dice will tolerate more time at center stage in your saute pan, allowing a milder, sweeter flavor to develop.) About once a week I chop a lot of garlic, put it in my squeaky clean jar, and top it off with extra-virgin olive oil. I keep it in my fridge, and every time I get to cookin' -- out she comes. Need a bit of fresh garlic? Need a drop or two of garlic oil? No problem.

I fight the urge to keep it on the counter. I love to look at it, sitting pretty next to my favorite pepper mill and my olive oil carafe with the shiny stainless steel pour spout. But I'm heartless; I stick it in the cold, dark fridge. Refrigeration does solidify the oil a bit, but a minute or two at room temp and she's back in business. Plus, it's hardly worth playing around with the whole botulism thing. Once the garlic is covered with oil, it becomes anaerobic (no air is moving around it), and that means refrigeration is key. Keep it fresh, keep it cold, and keep yourself alive. If I'm not going to be using it as quickly, I sometimes skip the oil and store it dry. Works great -- I just don't have any oil to drizzle about.

I love my little garlic jar. It has a wide mouth -- I can easily fit a soapy dishcloth into it. It's glass -- I can put it in my dishwasher. There isn't a speck of plastic or rubber to retain any smell -- not that I mind, but the whole squeaky clean thing is important to me (did someone say OCD?). About once a week I start fresh. All the oil and garlic get thrown into a dish that can take it, the jar gets back to squeaky clean, and then the wonderful chopping and filling process begins again.

Rachel Ray can have her garbage bowl. I wouldn't trade my precious garlic jar for anything.

Springing into the herb garden...

2009-04-28T09:03:00.000-07:00

This is going to be one of those posts without recipes. Lazy perhaps, but a little brave, because I am going public with my "before" picture before I've snapped the "after". I work much better under pressure.

After a winter and early spring of neglect, here is what my poor little herb garden looks like. Warts and all.

This spearmint is coming back nicely; no surprise there. Especially outside the make-shift brick border (which seemed like such a good idea last summer). Again, no surprise there.

Welcome back lovely sage! This looks like it is getting ready to bloom, and I need to decide if I should let it. It was planted after the spring last year, and I think this is the first time I've had sage come back (I haven't grown it often)...stay tuned!

My dependable thyme.

This voluptuous lavendar amazes me every year. It turns from silvery-gray to green without dropping so much as a needle. I'm almost afraid to touch it -- the stones under it have been there much longer than I've been admiring it. Luckily, it appears to thrive on my neglect.

This patch already smells of chocolate -- the chocolate mint is spreading like...well, mint. I may need to transfer this to a container. I'm also thinking of "gifting" some of it... (fair warning!)

If you're wondering why my herb garden isn't further along, here are a few photos of my springtime distractions...

"After" photos soon. And perhaps a recipe as well. Happy spring!

Sesame Vinaigrette

2009-02-17T08:53:00.000-08:00

Sorry. I ate it all before I could get a picture. It didn't even get to a plate. I think salad just tastes better right out of the bowl anyway.

I've been buying spring mix at Sam's lately. A person really can't eat too much salad, right? I love sesame vinaigrette, and until recently I've mixed it in a bowl, tasting and adding a little of this, and a little more of that. As a favor to my mother, I finally took notes. Here is a basic, easy recipe:

Simple Sesame Vinaigrette

2 Tablespoons sugar

1/4 cup rice vinegar

1 Tablespoon Soy Sauce

1/8 cup sesame oil

1/2 cup canola oil

I place the first three ingredients in a tightly sealed jar and shake it like the dickens. When the sugar is dissolved, I add the oils and shake some more. Voila! (It will settle -- who cares.)

This recipe has the four corners covered: sweet, salty, tangy and slick (the oils). Don't get me started about those fat-free dressings...boring! If you pay attention to those things (as I should) simply use less dressing on your salad. This is also a great recipe to adapt. Add fresh ginger, garlic, peppercorns, crushed red pepper flakes...go wild.

Soba

2009-01-24T19:35:00.000-08:00

I've had a couple of cravings lately.

Years ago, there was a fabulous restaurant here in Lexington called Ed and Fred's Desert Moon. I used to sneak out the back door of Cafe Jennifer to get my fix of their Chile Lime Pesto Linguine. I'd devour it in the office, check my smile in the mirror for tell-tale cilantro, and then sneak back out front. That's one craving.

Soba noodles have also been on my mind lately. These hearty buckwheat noodles are a great option for those of us who aren't fond of whole wheat pasta (a taste I can't seem to acquire) and still want a healthier alternative to the white stuff.

I haven't been able to get my hands on the recipe Ed and Fred used (help would be welcome!), but I'm pretty sure they used regular linguine. However, I had soba in the pantry, cilantro in the fridge, a lime in the fruit bowl, and a little time on my hands. An experiment was in order.

I had a couple of little red peppers, some left-over pecans, and of course garlic. I gave it all a rough chop, and processed the heck out of it. I added salt and pepper, squeezed fresh lime juice, and drizzled in olive oil as it whirred around my machine.

Sorry -- I experienced a relapse here and fell back into the old habit of not measuring anything. Here are my estimates:

1 cup nuts (I had pecans, but walnuts would be delicious)
1 bunch cilantro, minus a bit for garnish
2 garlic cloves
Juice from 1 lime
Chiles -- I had these mild red peppers on hand, but I recommend using whatever you can take!
Salt, pepper, and olive oil (I used less oil than a traditional pesto because I wanted it kind of on the dry side.)

I had pulled some cod from the freezer earlier, so it was included in this experiment. I sprinkled it with salt and pepper and smeared some of the fragrant paste over it.

I originally set my oven to "broil", but soon realized that the nuts were browning much faster than the fish was cooking. I turned it back to "bake" and started the soba noodles.

I had fun making this up as I went. I didn't want to cook the pesto (surely that would soften that fresh bold punch), but I wanted the soba to pick up some kind of flavor in a saute pan.

So after boiling the noodles in salted water until just al dente, I tossed them with olive oil and sauteed scallions.

I tossed the warm soba noodles with the pesto, placed the fish on top, and we enjoyed a delicious and healthy meal.

I didn't quite capture the linguine from my memory, but that's okay. I'll just call this tasty adventure "Soba Experiment One." Now -- on to the variations!

Lighting the corners of my mind....

2009-01-14T16:09:00.000-08:00

Memories...

Did you ever glimpse an image so simple yet strong -- an image which transplanted you instantly and completely back to another time in your life?

This simple image

stopped me in my tracks as I was washing dishes one night. This handy flat container was left behind in my fridge (thanks Jeremy!) after a very fancy dinner party which was an auctioned item at my son's school fund-raiser. The guest chef heard me lamenting about how I loved and missed those well-made, can stand up to a thousand commercial washings, just down-right practical containers. Once you're out of the restaurant business, they just don't come your way very often. Go to all the tupperware parties you can find -- you won't see this.

The funny part of this flashback was the frustration. Perhaps it's a rule -- maybe restaurant employees aren't supposed to remove the old masking tape label that might say, for instance, "chicken salad", when actually it's raw salmon. Or portioned sea bass. Or whatever.

Oh, if only I had a dollar for every strip of masking tape I've peeled off...

Cranberries -- Texas Style

2009-01-14T12:04:00.000-08:00

If your family is like most, you have 1.5 members who actually like cranberries with all those holiday meals, and one person who eats fruitcake. My husband actually likes fruitcake. I know. I married him anyway. And my mother is our lone cranberry eater. Or rather, she was.

Christmas day (yes, it's a really late post), my mother laid out a spread of snacks to keep us from getting too famished (with all that unwrapping, and playing and so on). On that table was a glorious bowl of ruby red, glistening....something. With chips on the side. Could you resist?

We didn't. We dug in, and experienced a spicy, sweet, tangy concoction that was soon habit-forming. My mother had plates set out, but I didn't need one. I simply stood my ground by the bowl and dug in my heels.

My mom's friend Jackie -- a fun-loving blond from Texas -- made this glorious dish and shared the recipe. Try it...you'll like it. Really! No holiday required.

Jackie's Cranberry Salsa (straight from Texas!)

1 package fresh cranberries; rinsed, cleaned and chopped in a food processor.

(I have an unofficial rule about using my food processor. If the job takes less time to complete than it would take to clean the food processor, I tend to use my immersion blender. Note to self -- break that rule next time.)

1 cup sugar

Mix together, and chill for 2-3 hours. Then add:

1 bunch green onions, finely chopped

1/2 bunch fresh cilantro, finely chopped

1 - 2 jalepenos, finely chopped

Mix it all up, and enjoy!

Okay -- confession time:

Mine wasn't as good as Jackie's. I called her up to chide her for keeping something from me -- or perhaps to correct a typo. Husband and I both thought that this post-holiday salsa was much sweeter than that the one we had originally fallen in love with. And no, it wasn't the margaritas.

Jackie and I surmised that my cranberries were riper. After all, mine were on sale (you now, the mad rush to rid the groceries of all holiday-related produce before it goes bad) and though I added a squeeze of lime to balance it a bit, it was too late.

Our advice to you -- add half a cup of sugar, taste after an hour, and then adjust as needed. And what the heck -- a margarita can't hurt!

Remember these?

2008-11-01T05:41:00.000-07:00

When it comes to anything with chocolate, I usually want it like my arugula: straight up and on its own. (See a pattern here?) I'll gladly forgo a snickers bar, a mars bar, or other mixed up candy bars for a sliver of pure chocolate. Good chocolate, of course.

But...

My son was spreading out the loot in that glorious post-Trick-or-Treating tradition, and I saw these. I told him how I'd loved them as a kid, and he quickly popped one in his mouth. Just as quickly, it was gone. I explained that you must let the chocolaty outside melt slowly, and then you can feel the igneous-like inside start to crumble...it's all about the texture. He's only 5 so I don't know how much of this lesson he'll remember, but he gave it another try.

The whole texture experience wasn't a big hit. Lucky for me.

Arugula Unadulterated

2008-10-25T10:00:00.000-07:00

When it comes to certain things, I am a purist. I don't like flavored coffee (just give me some good Guatemalan, por favor), I prefer the traditional basil pesto, and I don't want anything messing with my arugula.

I visited Wine + Market on the corner of West Second and Jefferson the other day, and couldn't resist the arugula. I know it's late in the season and the best arugula is earlier in the spring, but a craving is a craving. He did have lots of other tempting things, and I must share a few photographs of the loveliness:

I love the leafy bitterness and peppery zip arugula gives to mixed greens. But a huge salad of just arugula is a luxury. I mean, if diamonds are really your favorite stone, why mix them up with emeralds?

I usually toss salads (making the dressing and all) right in the bowl, just before service. This time I tried to measure the few ingredients for this very simple recipe:

One large handful of arugula
One Tablespoon good olive oil
1 teaspoon red wine vinegar
a drizzle of aged, syrupy balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper to taste

A big mixing bowl and some good tongs are important. Place the augula in the bowl and drizzle the oil over it. Mix well with tongs. Add red wine vinegar, salt and pepper, and mix well again. Then drizzle the yummy aged balsamic vinegar over, and mix one last time. The touch of sweetness will round out the bitter greens, while the red wine vinegar adds a zip that compliments the oil. Perfection. And simplicity.

(I know there are those out there who will add pine nuts, shaved Parmesan, olives, dried cranberries, and who knows what else. I've had a little talk with myself, and I'm okay with that.)

Plate and enjoy!
P. S. I used the wonderful vinegar from Oliva Bella on Broadway.

Harvest

2008-10-22T07:00:00.000-07:00

I saw these recently at the Farmer's Market in Lexington. I wanted so badly to take them with me and give them a good home...

But until I deal with my own harvest...

I must show some restraint. I did, however, indulge myself with some of this:

An important component for the pesto to come. I'd better get crackin'!

Pommery Pecan Pork Tenderloin

2008-10-17T07:57:00.000-07:00

Occasionally we run across those sinfully easy recipes, made glorious by the addition of a special ingredient so wonderfully complex, that the sinfully easy part remains our little secret.

Pommery Mustard is one of those ingredients. It's difficult to open, hard to find in Lexington, and a little pricey. But in the 'ole "desert island scenario," it makes my top ten list.

Pork tenderloin is an extremely versatile cut -- and though it's very lean, it's nice and tender. My five year old calls it "soft meat," and he prefers it over chicken or beef. In the summer, I usually marinate it and throw it on the grill, but with the fall weather finally kicking in, these warmer flavors hit the spot.

Ingredients:

1 pork tenderloin, well-trimmed

1 cup pecans, finely chopped (I use a zip lock bag and a meat pounder; the pieces won't be uniform in size but I like a nice rustic texture.)

1/4 cup Pommery Mustard

Drizzle about 2 Tablespoons olive oil into a cast-iron skillet, and place it in the oven. Then, preheat to 475 degrees F.

Using paper towels, get the tenderloin as dry as possible. Coat the meat with the mustard (the back of a spoon works nicely, but I always end up using my hands!), then press the pecans into the meat.

Slide out the oven rack, and place the tenderloin in the center of your hot skillet. (I find this much easier than moving the skillet, but do what's safest for you.)

Roast for 10 minutes, then slide out the rack again and turn the meat over. (I scoop underneath with a spatula while grabbing with tongs to lose less of the coating.)

Roast 5 - 10 minutes longer, depending on the size of your tenderloin and the desired degree of doneness. (Most people like to see a thermometer register at least 140 degrees F., but I pull it out when it hits 135.) Tent with foil and let it rest for 10 minutes, to let those wonderful juices redistribute into the meat.

I was a little impatient:

Some of the yummy coating is bound to come off. I can hardly wait for the pan to cool so I can sneak this "cook's treat":

Happy Fall!

Pink Lentils

2008-10-13T19:26:00.001-07:00

These lovely pink pearls (actually more of a salmon color) are a true "triple threat": healthy, delicious, and easy. The first time I snuck them in as a main course, my meat-and-potatoes husband slid the bowl closer to his plate as he said, (surprising him and relieving me), "These lentils are irresistible!" I think you'll agree. Make extra; they're even good cold, right out of the fridge.

Years ago, after my move from New York to Seattle, a friend from my home town in Ohio offered to drive across country and bring my little car to me -- my dear Buick Somerset. Her partner in this adventure was her college roommate Anjum. I have no idea where that little car is today, but this recipe card, written in my 20-something hand, has been cherished and lovingly cared for all these years. Thank you Anjum, for this wonderful Pakistani recipe. It was handed down through your family, and it has found a permanent place within mine.

The general directions on the card have worked well for me over the years, but tonight I took the time to actually measure my ingredients. Here's a more precise version:

Place 1 cup lentils in 2 1/2 cups cold water.

Add 1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon turmeric

and 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper.

Cover, bring to a boil, and simmer until tender and slightly soupy (about 20 minutes).

In a small saute pan, heat 3 to 4 Tablespoons olive oil on medium heat, and add one clove garlic, thinly sliced lengthwise (don't mince or chop), and simmer until it just starts to brown.

Quickly add the garlic and oil mix to the lentils (enjoy the "Ka shhsh!") and serve immediately -- with crusty bread, fluffy rice . . . or just a spoon.

2008-10-11T21:17:00.000-07:00

My favorite Roasted Chicken Recipe

My dear husband is a leg man. Too bad he married a woman who is all of 5'2". Well, not too bad, when he is compensated with roasted chicken leg, butternut squash and roasted Brussels sprouts. (The oven was going to be really hot for an hour; I thought I might as well take advantage of it and just roast everything.)

I saw this recipe many years ago in Molly O'Neill's column in the New York Times Magazine, and then later I couldn't resist buying her book, A Well Seasoned Appetite. According to Ms. O'Neill (who can get flavor to dance off the written page) this was adapted from Zuni Cafe, San Francisco.

Ingredients:

1 chicken, about 2 1/2 pounds
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
freshly ground pepper to taste
4 sprigs thyme
4 cloves garlic, lightly crushed

The day before serving, sprinkle the chicken with salt and pepper. Run your fingers between the skin and the flesh of the breast and thighs to make 4 small pockets. Stick a sprig of thyme and a garlic clove in each pocket. Wrap the chicken in plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.

Preheat the oven to 425 F.

Place the chicken, breast side up, in a shallow roasting pan. Roast for 30 minutes. Turn the chicken over and roast until the juices run clear when pricked in the thickest part of the thigh, about 15 to 20 minutes longer. Let stand for 10 minutes.

Carve the chicken into 8 pieces, top with pan juices.

Notes from Jennifer: There are several things that make this my favorite roasted chicken recipe. Wrapping the chicken overnight lets the bird become thoroughly infused with the garlic and thyme. Really wrap it well; think about swaddling a newborn. Also, the high temperature (425 F) is critical to the crispy skin. Lastly, flipping the chicken over so that it finishes breast down keeps the white meat exceptionally moist. I occasionally use a different herb or aromatic, but always stick with these techniques.

Another note: Whenever I work with raw meat (especially poultry), I like to have everything I'll need already prepared. Once my hands are "committed", I don't want to grab my pepper mill and Kosher salt, etc.

Occasionally, I'm tempted to join the "if some is good, then more must be better," club. I doubled up on the garlic last time, and it really was overpowering -- especially to the five year-olds, but even for their parents. I also used rosemary instead of thyme (gardening issues -- see previous post!), and while that was a nice change, I prefer the original recipe. Rosemary can be a pit bull, coming on strong, sometimes with teeth bared. Thyme is as charming as a soft puppy that you can't help but cuddle.

Finding the Thyme...

2008-10-09T08:10:00.000-07:00

The last time I made my favorite roasted chicken recipe (check back for my next post) I couldn't find one of the essential ingredients: thyme. I didn't even bother to look at the store, because I knew I had it in my herb garden. Somewhere.

Needless to say, I substituted rosemary that day. It's taller, easier to see, and I could sneak a couple of sprigs from the top without reaching my hands too far down into the twisted, jungly bramble.

Some days I tackle gardening with an adventurous gusto. Focusing on a nice shady corner, I manically weed and throw, weed and throw, creating piles along my path. I bravely reach for things I can hardly see, not even caring what creepy-crawlies my glove might be touching. With sweaty brow and blind detirmination, I'm clearing, cutting a swath, uncovering a charming vignette, finding my thyme. I'm a hero, saving my lost beauties from their parasitic, if occasionally ornamental, attackers (consider the lovely flowering bean vines).

About the time my manic energy shifts down to sheer resolve, I begin to notice things. Like the preying mantis on the weed I just pulled. Or the hairy spider crawling on my glove (toward my arm). Or the angry bumble bee buzzing my head (did I mention that I'm allergic?). Pretty soon, as if a switch has been thrown, it's over. That's it. I can't even bring myself to load the weeds into the wheelbarrow -- God only knows what's in there. I begin to itch all over. I have a strong urge to remove all my clothing and shake it vigorously, unfolding creases and pulling pockets inside-out. I briefly consider shaving my head, but luckily I accept that a long shower will suffice. As I head toward the relative safety of the house, I pause for a moment to admire the lone, beautiful corner housing my treasured basil, rosemary, flat-leaf parsley, sage, and yes -- right there between the chocolate mint and the voluptuous lavender -- I found my thyme.

Out to get me?

2008-10-07T13:06:00.000-07:00

My very first post (see below -- eventually!) was blocked and my account was locked due to a "false positive" on Blogger's Spam Filter. Since I am a real person, and therefore can actually request an account review (oh pulease), these entries should post in less than 2 business days.

This is what you call a rough start.

Three. Two. One... Go!

2008-10-07T11:37:00.000-07:00

Okay folks -- here I go! I've long been a voracious reader of blogs; now it's time to become a "writer of blog."

Why take the plunge? Several reasons. This is a little self-indulgent, but I know that posting on a (hopefully!) regular basis will help facilitate the flow of ideas, and improve my writing in general. We'll see how this goes. (I should be working on an article about organic turkey, but here I am...)

Another reason for blogging is that I need to start documenting recipes. I don't often follow recipes or directions when I cook, in fact I've had my stove for 2 1/2 years and have yet to use the timer. I've evolved into an instinctual cook, and I need to learn to get it down on paper clearly and precisely. If I am to write a cookbook, then "Just until you think it's ready," won't fly.

It would truly be an honor if people -- you know, real breathing and eating humans -- actually read this...so if you're out there, thanks.