Pretty Peppers

I will never tire of fresh vegetables— the colors, textures, shapes and smells are endlessly fascinating. I bought these pretty peppers on a hot August afternoon, a little piece of summer in my camera.

Ina's Panzanella

It's still technically summer for another week. There's time for one salad full of tomatoes, peppers and basil before we migrate to braises, stews and soups. Ina Garten's recipe for Panzanella is easy, simple and full of summery flavor (recipe here). I added Moroccan oil cured olives to the salad (one of my favorite things). They have the most lovely salty, winey and intense olive flavor and provide a nice counterpoint to the fresh flavors and textures of the vegetables.

My Garden In Full Bloom

Help us to be ever faithful gardeners of the spirit, who know that without darkness nothing comes to birth, and without light nothing flowers.

May Sarton

My garden had a good run this year— enough rain and sun to keep the flowers blooming and the bugs and powdery mildew at bay. The quackgrass had a good summer as well. I'm constantly fighting the invasion but nothing gives me greater satisfaction than pulling a piece of grass and getting ALL the root with it. Immediate gratification.

Hydrangea, Echinacea and roses— the backbone of my garden. I wonder if they know how much I appreciate their stalwart display of flowers and foliage each summer?

One of my Love and Peace roses. I planted four bushes when we bought the house 5 years ago and they've survived every winter and bloomed like champions every summer.

The dogs were in the garden with me. Running through the garden (George), chasing butterflies (Gus), relaxing (Henry) or digging (Seamus). I was taking a picture of the hydrangea and felt a slimy tennis ball drop in my lap. I turned around and saw this face. I think he was smiling.

A Long Island Evening

We spent nearly every Wednesday evening on Long Island this summer. It was the perfect mid-week break and chance to laugh, swim, hang out with friends and eat (of course). The summer of 2012 was all about the 'meal in a Mason jar' and I put a Proper Chicken Caesar Salad  under glass for this little adventure.

This particular Wednesday was the first full moon of August (there were two this year) and I was really hoping to get a decent picture of the moonrise. We anchored the boat, pulled out dinner, watched the kids swim and waited. The moon rose (right on cue) and try as I might, I still have yet to capture the beauty of a moonrise over Lake Superior.

The kids had a blast— dancing, laughing and jumping off the boat. They reminded me of otters— sleek, graceful and completely at home in the water.

The sun was setting, the moon was rising and we needed to head back to port. I looked down from the flybridge and took this picture of Charlie. It summed up everything I felt— joy, gratitude and wonder. There is nothing quite like watching the sun duck behind the hill and paint the sky shades of coral, gold and fuchsia. We were truly blessed to add this evening to our cache of Lake Superior memories.

Joyous George

George went on the Sunday photo safari with us and judging by his expression, he had a lovely time. He spent two hours, running up and down the stream bed with complete Labrador abandon. What can I say other than I love this dog??

Summer Tea

Last week, I poached a pheasant in duck fat, olive oil and red wine for a pâté de campagne, it was fantastic. But a girl can't exist on pâté alone and I try to balance my hedonistic eating habits (must be the Libra in me) with a little virtue. A few months ago, I started making a 'tea' with hibiscus leaves, rosehips and rooibos. It is an antioxidant and anti-infammatory power drink in a Mason jar and I swear it is making my wrinkles disappear. Plus, it's a beautiful, deep red color and tastes fantastic.

I use Davidson's loose leaf tea because it's organic, available in bulk and isn't terribly expensive. I put about 1/4 cup of rooibos, hibiscus and rosehips in a 11 ounce French Press, add boiling water, a few mint leaves, a tablespoon of honey and let it steep for 10 - 15 minutes. I fill a large Mason jar with ice, pour the hot tea over it and start drinking. It's a little tart but the honey and mint round out the rough edges a bit. This tea is definitely easier to drink (and prettier) than the kale and spinach smoothies I was drinking last winter. There is still plenty of room for improvement but a couple of jars of tea is a good place to start.

Pork Belly Love

I needed to clean out my freezer, it was starting to look like a science experiement— more mad scientist than Bill Nye. There were venison steaks, chicken stock, aluminum foiled mystery packages and a large block of pink salt a friend gave me three years ago. Instead of pitching everything in the garbage and achieving clean freezer nirvana from a large trash bag, I decided to eat what was salvageable (if I could identify it first). Remember when I had the Pagan dinner back in April? Well, there was a lonely and rather large piece of pork belly sitting on the second shelf, waiting for something marvelous to happen. Agave Glazed Pork Belly (recipe from Bon Appetit) was about as marvelous as I could imagine.

As luck would have it, I had a bag of dried habanero chiles in my spice drawer, a bunch of Thai chili peppers (I used them instead of the serranos) and the local IGA had fresh poblanos. I also picked up some plantains— this dinner had serious potential to be one of the best of summer 2012. Of course, my stalwart friend Tajin Classico seasoning, made several appearances throughout the meal. If they ever stop making that stuff, I'll weep hysterically.

I did take a few departures from the recipe— I grilled the entire pork belly after I braised it in the oven. I was afraid the glaze would flame up and char the pieces and dry them out. I think it was a good call— I ended up shredding the pork and pouring the left over glaze on the juicy meat. Every bite had a beautiful balance of heat and sweetness. I generously bathed the pork belly in Tajin before I put it in oven (definitely added to the spiciness), added onions and garlic to the pepper mixture and didn't add the chiles back into the glaze. It was plenty hot and I wanted my kids to eat without complaining their mouths were on fire and asking about peanut butter.

I sprinkled Tajin on the pineapple before I put it on the grill. It was a match made in heaven and complimented the pork beautifully. Grill the pineapple in a 350 - 400 degree grill for about 5 minutes per side. Remember to oil the grates (I used vegetable oil) or they will stick. The smell of warm pineapple and caramelized sugar is divine.

I made a green salad with yellow peppers, purple cabbage, red onion and quesco fresco with a lime and cilantro vinaigrette. I don't really have a recipe for the salad dressing other than combine equal parts lime juice and olive oil, some honey (to taste), Tajin seasoning (a couple teaspoons) and chopped cilantro. I made this salad for the first time for Charlie's birthday (the one with the nuclear Mojitos) and I pull it out every time I make something from south of the border.

I made white rice with lime and coconut milk, sliced some avocados, chopped cilantro and opened a couple of bottles of wine. I knew I had a winner when there was silence for 4 or 5 minutes after we all sat down. It takes a really good meal to quiet the din around my table and this dinner was a home run. It was exactly what I hoped for when I spied that forgotten slab of meat in the freezer— pure pork belly love.

A Week With Katie

Labor Day has come an gone (almost, we have another couple of hours left of 'official' summer). Every summer seems to fly by but this one had wings; I can't believe the kids start school tomorrow. I have been on a bloggery hiatus and thought a little taste of what summer looks on Lake Superior would make a good re-entry into your good graces. My sister, Katie, and her family came to visit in July and we had a lovely time— the pool on Madeline Island, Presque Isle Bay on Stockton, and dinners at the Pub and in my kitchen.

Katie celebrated a birthday that ends in a zero during the week (not sure how sensitive she is about her age and since she looks like she is 18, I will let you guess what birthday it was). We had a big table at the Pub, filled with the loud laughter and chatter that Dougherty's and Hollerman's are particularly gifted with. I love living in Bayfield but I treasure every minute I have with my family when they make that four hour drive North to visit.

We went to Presque Isle Bay on Stockton and spent the day with lots of sun, warmish water and no flies. We ate, played cards, built sand castles and swam. As we headed back to the boat, I said a prayer of gratitude— for my family, for the memories we are giving our children and for the lake that was the backdrop for a perfect summer afternoon.

I am the oldest of seven kids and my parents drilled 'family first' into our heads from the beginning. In fact, one of my Dad's favorite sayings was 'how can two countries get along if two sisters can't?'. It was unbelievably annoying to hear that little ditty when we were in the midst of World War 3 over who took my jeans or didn't empty the dishwasher but I am glad he never failed to utter it. As an adult, I am blessed to have four amazing sisters (and one sister-in-law) in my life who know my whole story and love me because (or in spite) of it. The week with Katie, Dan, Mollie and Jimmy was one of the sweetest weeks of the summer. Sweet because we added ferry and boat rides, Sadie and the attack of the Mama duck, singing Happy Birthday at the Pub, jumping off the boat and Mollie's posh air mattress to our family story.

Why I Love August

There are lots of reasons why I love August: fireflies, gardens in full bloom, summer vacation and the farmer's market. Bayfield has a farmer's market every Saturday from 8:45 to Noon and it has become a Saturday ritual for me. I grab my tote bag and whatever kid is awake and we head down the hill. Yesterday was tomato heaven, I bought every shape, size and color I could get my hands on. Sliced tomato with Maldon sea salt and good balsamic vinegar tastes like August and I look forward to my first bite every year.

Henry's Table

I took these pictures of Henry last night. He has always preferred sitting on chairs, he takes the whole Cavalier King Charles thing very seriously. A year ago, I had to board all the dogs at a kennel and when I asked if they could put a chair in the kennel for Henry— they looked at me like I was crazy. He had to rough it with an elevated platform, they told me he handled his reduced circumstances admirably.

I bought him when he was a little over a year from a breeder in Southern Wisconsin, who would choose a 'dog of the day' and serve them breakfast and dinner at her table. He staked his claim at our dinner table from the beginning and we went along with it. Henry is a 'finished' champion show dog and expects treatment in line with his special status. Plus he knows how to roll his tongue— not sure if that contributed to his success in the show ring but it's a good party trick.

Sunday at Stockton

There is nothing like a Sunday spent on Lake Superior. It's quiet, beautiful and restorative. Well, as quiet as a boat full of Doughertys can be. We went to the north end of Stockton and spent the afternoon sitting on the rocks, watching the kids swim and jump off the boat. It was as good as a summer afternoon can get.

When we bought the boat nine years ago, Charlie was in diapers, Sadie was 4 years old and I was pregnant with Meg. Leaving the dock meant vigilant monitoring of the kids whereabouts and the constant zipping and unzipping of life jackets. On this trip,  I sat up in the flybridge with Ted on the way over, reading a magazine. Time moves fast and you have to be ready for the ride. While I miss having little people around, I really enjoyed chatting with Ted and the kids and getting caught up on my backlog of New Yorkers.

The kids love to jump off the top of the boat, that is Charlie in mid-air. I haven't taken the plunge yet, I am not fond of heights or jumping into thin air. I sat on shore and documented their amazing feats of bravery.

I grabbed some leftovers for lunch and made a salad on the way over. Grilled chicken thighs, spinach, red peppers and avocados with fresh lime juice and Tajin- delicious but the chips and Oreos were a bigger hit. That's the way it goes when your target lunch audience is 14 years old and younger. However, Zeus the dog, loved the salad.

As we headed home, I thought about all the miles we have traveled together— Isle Royale, the Slate Islands, Loon Harbor, Grand Marais, Thunder Bay and the Apostle Islands. What a gift to have memories of safe harbors, northern lights, wild blueberries, sandy beaches, thunder rocks and saunas as part of our family story. Moving to Bayfield has had it's ups and downs but I wouldn't change one single footstep of our journey. I know our kid's compasses will always point north to Bayfield and that makes me happy.

Spicy Grilled Chicken And Sassy Watermelon Salad

I sound like a broken record but I love Tajin Classico Seasoning and I am constantly thinking up new ways to use it. Granted, grilled chicken isn't terribly inventive but is definitely delicious. I prefer to grill chicken thighs, they have enough skin to get crispy and are less likely to dry out. I put the Tajin under the skin and sprinkled more on top of the chicken for good measure. Put the chicken, uncovered, in the refrigerator for 4 hours (the salt helps to dehydrate the skin and make it nice and crispy after it's grilled). I always grill my chicken skin side up first because the fat in the skin will render and baste the chicken. Cook for about 20 minutes in a 300 degree grill, flipping occasionally.

In the battle of the barbecue sauces, I am on the side with a BBQ glaze with lots of vinegar. A sweet and tangy caramelized glaze on spicy chicken thighs is a party in your mouth. Brush the glaze on the chicken about 5 minutes before you pull them off the grill, you want it to be caramelized but not burnt.

Spicy BBQ Glaze

1/3 cup packed brown sugar (light or dark) 4 tbsp ketchup 4 tbsp chili sauce 1/4 cup plus 1 tbsp cider vinegar 2 tsp Frank's Hot Sauce 2 tbsp Tajin Classico Seasoning 2 tsp Worcestershire sauce

Combine all ingredients in a medium-sized bowl and stir until thoroughly combined.

Watermelon and feta is a match made in heaven and it's even more heavenly when I use Sassy Nanny Buttin' Heads Feta. It has just enough salt to complement the summery sweet watermelon. Even Sadie, my pickiest eater, loves this salad.

Sassy Watermelon Salad

4 - 5 cups arugula 2 cups watermelon, rind removed and cubed 1/2 red onion, thinly sliced 1/3 cup cilantro, chopped 1 cup Sassy Nanny goat feta, crumbled

Dressing

1/4 cup orange juice, freshly squeezed 1/4 cup lime juice, freshly squeezed 2 tbsp shallots, minced 1 tbsp honey 1/2 cup olive oil 1 - 2 tsp Tajin Classico Seasoning

Mix all dressing ingredients in a bowl and stir until combined. Dress the assembled salad and dinner is served!

Jack's Big Birthday

Okay, I am a little behind in my bloggery— summer is a demanding taskmaster and leaves me little time for sitting at my computer. Jack's birthday was the end of June and it was a big one. He turned 18. He was born eleven days before our first anniversary and has literally been with us every step of the way over the past eighteen years. He was the first of so many things: grandchild, nephew and son. My youngest brother, Michael, started kindergarten as an uncle and his birth showed me the path I was meant to travel- motherhood. Those were sweet days, we were young, newly married and freshly minted parents. It is hard to believe he is getting ready to travel his own path now, independent of us.

We had a little 'surprise' get together for Jack at Bob and Kelly's shop and arrived home to find a plate of freshly made strawberry jam and biscuits from Julie. The amazing thing about that plate of biscuits (other than the fact that it was a lovely and thoughtful gesture from Julie) was that George didn't eat them. I am not sure what she said to him but it worked. She must have super hero dog training skills.

Lately, I can not get enough steamed edamame with olive oil, Maldon sea salt and chopped mint on them. It is the first completely healthy meal that I would (and do) choose to eat time and time again. We started with a huge bowl of them on the deck while I grilled the steaks. The dogs love the shells, they need to watch their waistlines as well.

Andy's had a whole beef rib roast on sale and I knew it would be a huge hit for dinner. There is definitely an art to cutting steaks from a whole rib roast and I don't have it. The steaks weren't totally mangled but they weren't pretty. If anyone noticed, they kept it to themselves. I cut a bunch of herbs from the garden, chopped garlic and mixed it all together with olive oil and sea salt. The steaks looked a little less mangled and a little more artisanal. The finished product was perfect— tender, medium rare and flavorful.

Jack was headed out with his friends and the cake portion of the evening was over before I knew it. Rest assured, he had a piece of pie (from the Candy Shoppe) on the 'You Are Special Today' plate— I just forgot to take his picture. I was distracted by this 6 foot 2 inch man who is getting ready to start a new chapter in his life and wondering where the years have gone. Talk about bittersweet— I am so proud of the man he has become but miss the little boy he was. The minute I held that ten pound baby in my arms, I fell head over heels in love. He was special from the beginning and has brought immense amounts of love, joy and pride into our lives. It's impossible to sum up what the past eighteen years have meant to me, suffice it to say, 'I love you right up to the moon- and back'.

Nicoise In A Jar On Long Island

The phone rang at 9 am and I knew it was Renee. We talk nearly every morning and our conversations always revolve around food—Good Thyme food, dinner food or food we want to eat. One of the remarkable things about our friendship is our penchant for cooking the same thing at the same time— we are definitely psychic food sisters.  She was watching the Today show and saw Martha Stewart making Nicoise Salad in Mason jars and thought it would be the perfect beach meal. Oddly enough, I dreamt about canned Italian tuna (I really love it) the night before she called. I knew we were on to something.

I always have Cento tuna in olive oil, kalamata olives, fingerling potatoes and eggs from Spirit Creek Farm on hand. I needed to pick up spinach, green beans and a few tomatoes— I was on a tight time schedule and needed to throw dinner together quickly. The boat was leaving the harbor at 5:30, sharp. Remember what I mentioned about salads in the Emmylou post? They are the only meal I can make and still be on time (relatively speaking). Dinner on Long Island was looking better and better by the minute. I made a simple vinaigrette, assembled the lovely little jars, loaded up a cooler and headed out to another beautiful summer night on the lake.

There were a ton of kids out there, from 6 to 17 years old. They herded up and swam, staged chicken fights and played on the beach— what an amazing childhood they will carry forward. It is almost unbelievable to me, the perfection of an evening on Long Island.  Regardless of my frame of mind when I am leaving the mainland, I always return refreshed and deeply grateful. What a gift to have a reset button that involves water, sand, good friends and food right outside my door.

Nicoise Salad In A Jar

Four 3.5 ounce cans of Cento tuna in olive oil 4 eggs, hard-boiled and sliced 2 tomatoes, chopped 8 - 12 fingerling potatoes, boiled 3/4 cup pitted kalamata olives 1 cup green beans, steamed until tender firm 1/4 cup salt cured capers, rinsed 2 cups spinach, washed and dried

Vinaigrette

2 tbsp shallot, finely minced 2 tbsp Dijon mustard 1/2 tsp salt (more to taste) 1/4 tsp freshly ground pepper 1/2 tsp fresh thyme 1/4 tsp fresh rosemary 1/2 tsp fresh chives 1/2 cup red wine vinegar 1 cup good olive oil

While the potatoes and green beans are still warm, toss them with olive oil, Maldon sea salt and preserved lemon (you can substitute lemon zest).

Combine all ingredients for vinaigrette, except for olive oil, in a blender or food processor until combined. Slowly add olive oil until the dressing is emulsified. Taste for salt and pepper and set aside.

Toss each salad ingredient with salad dressing (except spinach) and set aside. Don't use too much dressing, you want the salad components to be lightly dressed.

Layer the salad ingredients as follows: spinach, tomatoes, potatoes, green beans, eggs, spinach, tuna and olives in a Mason jar.

Summer, Meghan & A Lemonade Stand

Meg and Summer decided to have a lemonade stand outside of Kelly & Crew yesterday. I am not sure who hatched the plan but Kelly was on top of it— sandwich board, balloons and all. Meg was super excited to have the stand downtown. She had a lemonade stand at the end of our driveway a month ago and our neighbor, Martha, was her one and only customer. Going to Kelly's was the 'big time' as far as she was concerned.

The Candy Shoppe was the recipient of most of the proceeds, I think they each had two ice cream cones over the course of the afternoon. When I stopped by, there a sign on the table saying they were at the Candy Shoppe and would return soon. I heard them laughing a half a block a way, ice cream in hand and gigantic grins on their faces. They also raised 10.00 for the animal shelter— talk about two girls after my own heart.

The Land

I really don't know where to start this blog post, the Land and I have a checkered past. I grew up in Minneapolis and was absolutely, positively a city girl. The closest I got to the great outdoors was going to Lake Vermillion every summer and staying in a cabin with my family.We fished, swam and went to the dump at dusk to watch the bears. It all changed the year I turned thirteen. My parents bought 90 acres in Frederic Wisconsin and I had a fierce learning curve in outdoor survival skills (okay, maybe not survival skills but it seemed pretty intense to my thirteen year old self).

We have always referred to it as the 'Land', I honestly have no idea why we gave it such a nondescript title. For a long time, there was just a pole barn, an RV, a trampoline and 90 acres of farm fields and woods. The house is a relatively new addition, within the last 5 years or so, but we still call it the Land. My Mom would pack a picnic and my siblings in the station wagon and we would drive an hour and a half for lunch. Ironically, I have done the same thing with my kids—except we would drive four hours each way to spend a day and a half in Bayfield (I never had my act together enough to pack a lunch). As an adult and parent, I know what it feels like to want to get out of Dodge. As a kid, it seemed like a long way to go for lunch.

Even in the throes of teenaged angst, I enjoyed our afternoon outings. It was novel to be sitting in a field, listening to the cicadas, surrounded by tall grass and clover. I brought my friend, Lee, along for the ride one year and she sneezed the entire time. Evidently, she had horrid allergies and her adventure in rural Wisconsin exacerbated them. We still laugh about it and wonder if she ever went outside of city limits after her lunch with us. The Land holds many of our family stories— the time we found a fawn, the hawk dive bombing our dog, Murphy, deer hunting and alternative uses for mayo jars, well drilling and fracking, Red Freddie, bucket rides and Naturally Northern raspberries.

My Dad was a pharmaceutical salesman for many years and Southern California was part of his territory. He saw how large-scale raspberry farming was done out west, pesticides and all, and we never ate a commercially grown raspberry after that. After a tremendous amount of work and planning, he now has a thriving company, Naturally Northern, selling pesticide, herbicide and insecticide free raspberries in Minneapolis. He said when he first bought the Land, there were no birds or predatory insects because it was farmed commercially with all sorts of chemicals. He has not used anything except fertilizer for years and it shows— there are dragonflies and birds everywhere, wildflowers in the fields and the raspberry field is filled with bees.

Will and I took off on a photo safari the morning before we left. I had forgotten how beautiful it is up there. Walking through the woods, on paths I haven't step foot on for years, was a revelation. The seeds of my love for Lake Superior and Bayfield were sown amidst the moaning and groaning of my adolescence about having to go to the Land.  As an adult, I am grateful for the weekends spent in Frederic and not at Southdale with my friends or in my room wishing I could marry Simon Le Bon.

When Will and I returned, the girls and Nana were in the midst of a cookie baking adventure. Nana's cookies are legendary around our house and the girls love to help her. Sadie copied down a few recipes while the cookies were baking. She is following in her Nana's footsteps—she is a great baker.

I have been blessed to be part of a family who have always marched to the beat of their own drummer. It is a legacy that I want to pass on to my kids— have the courage to live your life with abandon and stay the course when the waters get rough. What more can you ask for?

I Wonder If Emmylou Likes Cobb Salad??

A long time ago, when I was in my early thirties, I bought a Lilith Fair CD and heard a duet with Sarah McLachan and Emmylou Harris. I was blown away by her voice. Now that I am decidedly in my forties, I still listen to Emmylou and was excited to see her at Chatauqua this summer. However, dinner before Big Top concerts always present a challenge for me— we have to be in the car on our way to the hill by 7:30ish. This is a problem for me, my meals like to hit the table about 8:30 or so. Salads are about the only thing I have a half a chance to get on the table before we have to leave.

The other Maven, Arthur Schwartz, has the original Cobb salad dressing recipe from the Brown Derby, along with the history of this illustrious salad, on his website. According to Arthur, Bob Cobb, the owner of the Brown Derby, was hungry late one night after service and went through his walk-in refrigerator looking for something to eat. The funny thing about a restaurant kitchen is there is very little to grab and eat late at night and the last thing anyone wants to do is turn on the oven or start a fire in the grill after everything is cleaned up. Another funny thing is that if you are in the kitchen looking for something to eat late at night, you are definitely not thinking about lettuce. I bet this is why the Cobb salad bears very little resemblance to a healthy and virtuous salad. Bob had been working all night and he wanted something that would stick to his bones. Adding bacon, cheese, avocado, hard-boiled eggs and potatoes to a pile of greens makes perfect sense to me.

I made two changes to Arthur's recipe— I substituted arugula for the watercress and chicory and I tossed the potatoes, while they were still warm, with olive oil, Maldon sea salt and chopped preserved lemons. Otherwise, I stuck to the recipe and it was perfect. I bet Emmylou would like my Cobb salad.

Emmylou was great—she has a magnificent soulful voice and is an amazing guitarist. I kept watching her hands, flying up and down her guitar, and thinking about all the life they have seen and the music they have made. Seems like a fairly innocent observation, right? Well, we had the opportunity to meet her after the show and I blurted out, 'I love your hands'. She looked at me like I was either nuts or had a hand fetish. I continued shoving my foot down my throat and mumbled something about her hands having beautiful life in them and that was that. She graciously agreed to take a picture with me and I decided to have a few rational and witty talking points next time I meet a musical legend.

Paella, Paella

It was an epic cooking class a few weeks ago— lots of women, lots of sparkling wine and lots of paella. Sue came all the way from Frederic with an outdoor paella cooker and an enormous pan with red handles. It was an impressive set-up, to say the least. I have made paella once and am a complete novice. Sue, on the other hand, is a pro and she showed us the ropes and made a beautiful pan of paella.

There was a lot of prep— slicing, chopping and dicing. We had plenty of hands and the work went quickly. There is a particular rice for paella, Bomba— it absorbs lots of liquid while remaining firm and doesn't turn to mush. I had a couple of bags left over from my initial, and not terribly successful, attempt at paella last winter and Sue put it to good use. We did a seafood paella with a little of chorizo from the Northern Smokehaus for good measure— absoloutely delicious.

I met Sue two or three years ago when her son and future daughter in law had their groom's dinner at Good Thyme. At the time, I never would have guessed she would someday be cooking paella in my front yard. It never ceases to amaze me how the dots in our lives eventually get connected.

While I would like to say I made a seafood stock from scratch, I would be lying like a rug. I did a little research and decided upon this seafood stock. It was perfect— briny and clean tasting.  In the chaos of the evening, I didn't write down the recipe Sue used but it was a basic paella recipe— mussels, clams, shrimp, assorted veggies, seafood stock and saffron.  If I had to guess, I would say it is pretty close to this recipe.

Rice, of any kind, has always presented a challenge for me— it is either too mushy or under done and hard as nails. I like paella because the caramelized and crusty rice on the bottom is not only cool but desirable. It even has a name, socarrat. Finally, my utter lack of rice making skills would not be a hindrance in the final product.

It was another joyful evening spent in the kitchen with friends.  The house reverberated with their voices and laughter for hours after they left. I like to think we are knitting the fabric of our community one meal at a time and I am grateful for each and every moment I get to share with these amazing women.

Garlic From The Market & Flowers From The Garden

In between washing the sheets, getting ready to cater two weddings, making a feeble attempt at cleaning the kitchen and mentally preparing myself to tend bar on a Saturday night— I had a little fun. Sadie and I went to the farmers market in Bayfield and there it was— heaps and piles of garlic. To say I have a thing for fresh garlic would be putting it mildly. I love, love, love fresh garlic and celebrate my love every chance I can when it is season. I practiced a little restraint yesterday and only bought a dozen or so cloves. Next weekend, I am going big— vampires beware.

My friend Jill, a self-professed Garlic Pig, loves garlic as well. She's a gardener extraordinaire and has a garden full of garlicky goodness. Scapes and cloves— the benefits of growing your own are endless. It was her birthday yesterday and I went to the garden to pick my first bouquet of the summer for her gift. I knew she didn't need garlic but flowers and wine seemed like a decent idea. I cut extra flowers and made a bouquet for myself to keep in the kitchen. As I walked in the house last night at 11 pm, tired and thankful to be home, there it was— flower love from my garden. I went to bed happy.

A Totem Pole Raising (or Re-Raising)

There was a minor set back when Ted was cutting down an old birch in the front yard. The totem pole was in the wrong place at the wrong time and the birch took it out. It spent a few months reclining in the yard, waiting for the day it would stand tall again. Being a lumberjack is hard work (at least that's Ted's story and he is sticking to it).

Ted called the man who put the pole up five years ago, I can't imagine how that phone call went. I doubt he has to re-raise many 20 foot totem poles. We bought it from Bill Vienneaux, a wood-carver in Washburn, and it's the only 20 foot totem pole he has made (so far). There were two spots open on the pole when we bought it and he carved the flying pig and the bear reading the book for us.

I remember the day it went up (the first time) in the summer of 2007. I had just finished putting in the flower garden, Guinness was at my side and Meghan was in Ted's arms. Time has flown by. We bought it as an homage to Ted's Dad. Frank passed away two weeks after we bought our house and he is buried in the Bayfield cemetery. We wanted to do something to honor the man we adored and missed terribly; I know he would have been pleased.

Frank and I had a lot in common: reading, love of food, the New Yorker and pigs. Maybe it was the Irish in us, pigs are considered good luck charms in Ireland. When Anne and Frank moved to Alabama, they asked what I would like from the cabin. I knew right away— the white pig, Horatio, that sat outside their door. It was fitting we put a pig with wings (and a smile on his face) on the totem pole.

I raised a glass to Frank after the totem pole was securely back in place. He saw the woman I was going to become before I even knew she existed. He gave me Anne Morrow Lindbergh's book, A Gift From The Sea, for Christmas when I was nineteen and just starting to find my way. I miss his unflagging love and loyalty, he was a helluva guy. The 2006 Coudoulet de Beascastel was the perfect wine to drink that afternoon— bittersweet cocoa, dried figs and black cherry. I was happy to see the totem pole upright but I was missing the man who inspired it.