Julie and I took the kids to Duluth before Thanksgiving for a photo safari and lunch at Pizza Luce. We walked around, snapping pictures of whatever caught our fancy and finished our safari with caramel apples from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. All in all, a successful safari.
We stopped into the Maritime Museum mid-safari. It was windy and cold outside and a respite in a warm building sounded like a good plan of action.
Despite my best efforts, we've succumbed to the cold that has been traveling around the Bayfield peninsula. Since the kids are sick of green smoothies, we've moved on to Russian tea— my Mom's panacea to sniffling and sneezing. It seemed exotic to me as a kid. We never had Tang in the house (for some reason, I associated it with astronaut food and my parents were firm believers in real orange juice) and drinking 'tea' seemed like the grown-up way to handle a cold. As I was mixing it up this morning for my crew, the mildly citrus and über sweet smell brought me right back to my childhood kitchen on West 60th Street. I'm always struck by how smells and tastes conjure up memories I thought I had forgotten, food is powerful medicine.
Russian Tea
2 cups instant tea powder
2 cups Tang powder
1/4 cup sweetened lemonade mix (I used Country-Time)
1 cup white sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
3/4 tsp ground cloves
Preparation
Add all ingredients to a large bowl and combine thoroughly. Add 2 tablespoons to one cup hot water and mix to dissolve. Store in a sealed container.
This was the final frontier in our quest to satisfy our hankering for Chinese take out but those thin little Mandarin pancakes gave me nightmares. Ted loves, loves, loves mu shu pork and mu shu from the Great Wall in Edina was his gold standard. I always thought the pancakes were crepes but I was wrong. They are made from a dough with two ingredients, water and flour, rolled paper-thin and cooked on the stove top in a hot skillet. Needless to say, I decided it sounded like a disaster in the making and who needs mu shu anyways when we have Thai curry to keep us satisfied? But it was always out there, the promise of pork wrapped in a pancake and drizzled with hoisin. I decided to man up, stop whining about rolling out paper-thin pancakes and get cooking. It was so much easier than I anticipated; I can't believe it took me so long to bring a little Edina Chinese food to Bayfield.
After a fair amount of trial and error, I learned two things: you really have to roll the pancakes out as thin as possible (think really thin tortillas) and generous use of sesame oil is going to make the whole process much more enjoyable (pancakes that stick together are no fun). I've made the pancakes a couple of days before I make the pork filling and they hold nicely in the refrigerator (tightly covered). They also freeze well, again tightly covered. The pork mixture is a breeze to pull together and if you have the pancakes in the freezer, I swear it kind of seems like take out— minus the little cello packages of soy sauce and fortune cookies.
The pork part of the equation is basically a very simple stir fry. As with most Chinese food, I find a mis en place approach to be the best. There is a fair amount of chopping and if you do it all at once, it really is just a matter of throwing it all in the pan, cooking and eating. The recipes I saw called for either pork loin or tenderloin. I've tried it both ways and frankly, since the pork is thinly sliced, I can't tell the difference. You can also substitute chicken thighs if you aren't a pork fan or tofu if you aren't a meat fan. One last caveat to make your mu shu experience the very best it can be— buy good hoisin. We like Lee Kum Kee or Koon Chun.
Mu Sho Pork & Mandarin Pancakes
Mandarin Pancakes(From Fine Cooking)
1-3/4 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
3/4 cup boiling water
1 tbsp toasted sesame oil
In a bowl, mix the flour and the boiling water with a wooden spoon to combine. Turn the shaggy dough onto a lightly floured board, gather it into a heap, and knead it until smooth, about 3 min. Cover with a towel and let it rest for about 1/2 hour.
With your hands, shape the dough into an even cylinder about 12 inches long. With a sharp knife (I find gentle pressure and a serrated knife prevents squashing the dough), cut the roll into 1-inch pieces. If the cutting squashes any of the pieces, stand them on end and shape them back into rounds.
Lightly flour your palms and use them to flatten the pieces into 2-inch rounds. Brush the top of each round generously with sesame oil. Lay one round on top of another, oiled sides together. Flatten the pair together with the heel of your hand. Continue until you have 6 pairs.
With a floured rolling pin, roll each pair into a thin pancake about 7 inches in diameter, flipping the pancake over now and again to roll evenly on both sides. Stack the pancakes as you finish rolling them.
In an ungreased cast-iron skillet or nonstick pan over medium-high heat, cook the pancakes one at a time. Heat one side until it becomes less opaque and starts to bubble slightly, and just a few brown spots appear, about 1 min. Flip it over and cook it until a few light brown spots appear on the other side, about 30 seconds.
While the pancake is still hot, pick it up, look for a seam to grab, and separate it into two very thin pancakes. Stack them on a plate as you go and wrap them in foil to keep them warm and prevent drying. If not using right away, refrigerate until ready to use.
Mu Shu Pork
1 pound pork loin or tenderloin, julienned
4 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tbsp chile garlic sauce
2 tbsp toasted sesame oil
2 tbsp cornstarch
1 head green cabbage, thinly shredded
4 eggs, beaten
8 green onions, thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 cups Chinese black mushrooms, re-hydrated and sliced (you can substitute white or cremini mushrooms)
1 1/2 cup bamboo shoots, rinsed and drained
5 tbsp vegetable oil
Preparation
Place the soy, oyster sauce, chile garlic, toasted sesame oil and cornstarch in a bowl, mix to combine and add the pork. Toss to thoroughly coat the pork and set aside. In a large skillet, heat one tablespoon of oil over medium high heat and add the beaten eggs. Once the egg has set up enough to flip over in one piece, carefully flip it and continue to cook a few seconds more. Move to a cutting board, julienne and set aside. Add 2 tablespoons of oil to the skillet you cooked the eggs in and add the sliced green onions and green cabbage. Saute over medium high heat until the cabbage is wilted but still crunchy, about 5 minutes. Remove from the skillet and set aside. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in the same skillet and sauté the garlic, mushrooms and pork (with all the sauce that the pork was sitting in) over high heat until the pork is cooked. Add the sliced eggs, cabbage and green onions and sauté for 3 - 5 minutes. Put a smear of hoisin down the middle of the pancake, place the pork mixture on top and roll the pancake up (like a burrito). If you love hoisin as much as I do, drizzle additional hoisin on the outside of the pancake as well.
On my way to light the sauna last night, I glanced up and stopped in my tracks to take in the luminous beauty of the last nearly full moon of 2012 and Jupiter shining in the night sky. I went in the house (after I lit the sauna), grabbed my camera, made sure I had the right camera settings (f/11 and 1/250) and captured this image. In case you're wondering where the largest planet in the solar system is in my picture, it's that tiny spot above the moon (it's really, really far away).
A picture of the waxing moon and Jupiter (who symbolizes abundance, warmth and good fortune) was the perfect way to mark our Christmas of 2012. Next year, Jack will be 'coming home' for Christmas, I'll have two high-schoolers, one middle-schooler and Meg will be in fifth grade. Our family is growing up and as much as I want to stop time, I'm happy to have this image and everything it symbolizes. I sincerely hope your holiday was full of the warm companionship of family and friends, a table heavy with food and wine and at least one glance towards the night sky.
I forgot how incredibly good this bread is— until this morning when I pulled it out of the freezer for breakfast. My Mom and Dad came up to catch the kid's last performance of the Christmas Carol and since breakfast wasn't ready when they arrived (big surprise), I went to the freezer for a little something to tide us over. I made these loaves before Thanksgiving and I'm telling you, they tasted as good as the day I made them. Quick breads are a nearly foolproof baking adventure (except when I forgot the baking powder and ended up with dog biscuits) and I highly recommend having a few loaves of this bread in your freezer. It's like a beautiful slice of the holiday season— aromatic spices, chestnuts and spiced rum.
Persimmon & Chestnut Bread
3 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp nutmeg, freshly grated
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup crystallized ginger, chopped
1 cup butter, melted and cooled
1 tbsp vanilla
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
2/3 cup spiced rum
1/2 cup orange juice
3 persimmon, pureed
1 pear, pureed
1 cup chestnuts, toasted and chopped
1 cup dried cranberries
Preparation
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter and flour 2 large or 7 small loaf pans.
Combine the flour, salt, baking soda, nutmeg and sugar in a large mixing bowl. Add the butter, eggs, vanilla, rum, orange juice, persimmon and pear purees and mix thoroughly. Fold in the cranberries, crystallized ginger and chestnuts. Bake for an hour (if using large loaf pans) or 30 minutes (if using small loaf pans). The bread is done when a toothpick inserted in the middle of the loaf comes out clean. This bread freezes beautifully, make sure to wrap it well and it'll keep in the freezer for up to 3 months.
Judging from what I've baked lately, I clearly have a thing for spice cakes and cookies. There's something about the way cinnamon, ginger, molasses and cloves envelope a room in an intoxicating warm aroma that makes me feel like all is right with the world. This cake has an impressive list of ingredients to gather together but it's worth it, the complex sweet and spicy flavor is just the thing to eat on a cold night in December (and it goes perfectly with a healthy dollop of whipped cream). If you don't have quince lying around, you can substitute an Anjou or Asian pear and still end up with a fantastic cake.
Apple and Quince Gingerbread (From Apt. 2B Baking)
2 large apples
1 large quince
4 ounces plus 1 ounce butter
4 tablespoons coarse sugar (turbinado or light demerara)
6.5 ounce all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon ground ginger
3.75 ounces brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tablespoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon orange zest
1 tablespoon freshly grated ginger root
2 tablespoons molasses
3 tablespoons rum or bourbon
1 teaspoon vanilla
3/4 cup buttermilk
10 walnut halves (optional)
Preparation
Preheat oven to 350º. Butter and flour a 9'' cake pan.
Core and peel the apples and quince then cut into thin slices. Melt 1 ounce of butter in a skillet and stir in the apple and quince slices until coated with butter, then add 2 tablespoons coarse sugar. Saute over medium heat stirring occasionally until the fruit has softened and caramelized slightly. Set aside to cool while you prepare the cake batter.
In a medium bowl sift the flour, baking soda, salt and spices.
In a stand mixer cream the butter and brown sugar together until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time. Then beat in the zests, grated ginger, molasses, rum or bourbon and vanilla extract.
Slowly stir in the flour mixture followed by the buttermilk until the batter is smooth.
Pour half of the batter into the prepared pan, top with the sautéed apples and quince, then pour the rest of the batter on top and smooth with a spatula. Arrange the walnut halves on top (if using) then sprinkle with the remaining coarse sugar.
Bake the cake for 45-50 minutes or until a cake tester inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. This cake is best the day that it's made, but will last for a few days in an airtight container.
The last couple days have been tough and I needed to find some way to calm my mind. Since sitting quietly is challenging for me, I went into the kitchen. Cooking is my version of meditation— it engages my hands and mind enough to leave space for the small quiet voice I often forget to listen to. I wanted to bake cookies— it seemed like the perfect way to love my kids and make the house smell like home. I realize it's kind of a Pollyanna way to try to make sense of a completely senseless tragedy but as I was dropping those cookies onto the sheet tray, I sent prayers of healing and protection to the families in Connecticut and for all of us. Cookies won't change the world but it's what came to mind on a rainy afternoon in December.
Since baking is problematic for me, I tend to stick to cookies that don't require a rolling-pin and aren't too sticky. These lebkuchens fit one of my criteria (they don't need to be rolled out) but are super sticky. I didn't believe the dough really needed to be frozen for 4 hours, I thought 2 hours on a cold porch would be sufficient. Wrong. Definitely put the dough in the freezer, it's going to make the experience so much more pleasant for you, trust me. Otherwise, these cookies rock. They're crunchy, chewy, sweet and spicy all wrapped up in one round-ish cookie package. I'm trying to build a repertoire of Christmas cookies I can manage and these lebkuchens are at the top of the list.
Lebkuchen(From Food And Wine Magazine)
Cookies
1 1/2 cups blanched whole almonds
2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
1 3/4 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1 teaspoon fine salt
inch of freshly grated nutmeg
1 1/2 cups light brown sugar
1/2 cup sweet orange marmalade
1/4 cup finely chopped candied ginger (1 ounce)
1/4 cup unsulfured molasses
5 large eggs
Icing
3 cups plus 2 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
1/4 cup whole milk
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
Cookie Preparation
Preheat the oven to 350°. Spread the almonds on a rimmed baking sheet and toast for about 10 minutes, until fragrant and lightly golden. Let cool completely. In a medium bowl, whisk the flour with the baking powder, cinnamon, ground ginger, cloves, allspice, salt and nutmeg.
In a food processor, pulse the cooled almonds until coarsely chopped. Add the brown sugar and pulse until incorporated. Add the marmalade, candied ginger and molasses and pulse until the mixture is well blended and the nuts are finely chopped. Add the eggs all at once and pulse until just incorporated. Add the dry ingredients and pulse until incorporated and the batter is uniform in color. Scrape the soft batter into a bowl, cover and freeze until very firm, at least 4 hours.
Preheat the oven to 350° and line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper. Using a 2-tablespoon ice cream scoop, scoop 8 level mounds onto each baking sheet, about 3 inches apart. Freeze the remaining batter between batches. Bake the cookies in the upper and lower thirds of the oven for about 20 minutes, until risen and slightly firm; shift the pans from top to bottom and front to back halfway through. Transfer the sheets to racks and let the cookies and pans cool completely. Repeat with the remaining batter.
Icing Preparation
In a bowl, whisk the confectioners’ sugar with the milk and butter. Spread the cookies with icing and let dry completely before serving or wrapping.
It is a heavy day, indeed. I pray the families in Connecticut will walk through their grief and shock into healing. It's bound to be an unimaginable journey.
Heavy
Mary Oliver
That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying
I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had His hand in this,
as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poets said,
was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave even among lions),
“It’s not the weight you carry
but how you carry it—
books, bricks, grief—
it’s all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down.”
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?
Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?
How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe
also troubled—
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?
I have a distinct memory of being a six year old at the dinner table with a plate full of liverwurst. I wasn't a fan of liverwurst in my younger years and if memory serves me correctly, I don't think I touched it. Fast forward 36 years, liverwurst has been reimagined as pâté and not only do I eat it with verve, I make it on a regular basis. I have to admit, my pâté bears very little resemblance to the Oscar Meyer liverwurst of my youth— it's not wrapped in yellow plastic, pancetta from Northern Waters Smokehaus plays a strong supporting role, the quince adds a hint of floral sweetness and chestnuts give it a satisfying crunch. Perhaps if I was presented with a fancy liverwurst/pâté at the tender age of six, I would've jumped on the organ meat bandwagon a lot sooner. Regardless, I'm on the bandwagon now and it's proving to be a pretty sweet ride.
Chicken Liver Pate With Pancetta, Quince And Calvados (Adapted From Fine Cooking Party Food)
3 containers (15 ounces each) fresh, all natural chicken livers
6 tbsp olive oil
1 pound pancetta, cut into 1/4 inch dice
3 shallots, minced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 quince, peeled and cut into 1/4 inch dice
1 tsp fresh thyme, finely chopped
1 tsp rosemary, finely chopped
1 cup Calvados
2 sticks of butter (16 tbsp), at room temperature
3/4 cup chestnuts, coarsely chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
Preparation
Rinse the livers and trim off the tough tissue that connects the lobes; pat dry.
In a sauté pan over medium high heat, sauté the chestnuts until they are fragrant and start to turn golden brown. Set aside.
In a sauté pan, heat the olive oil over medium high heat and add the chicken livers, seasoning with a small amount of salt. Cook the livers, turning once or twice, to medium rare, lightly browning on both sides, about 4 minutes. Set the livers aside and add the pancetta, shallots, garlic, quince, rosemary and thyme to the pan. Gently sauté over medium heat until the pancetta is slightly colored and the shallots and quince are softened. Add the Calvados and deglaze the pan, scraping with a wooden spoon and cooking until the Calvados is reduced to about 1/3 cup. Set aside to cool slightly.
In a food processor, combine the cooled livers, pancetta mixture and butter; process until well blended. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Line small bowls or ramekins with plastic wrap. equally divide the chestnuts among the bowls and then add the pâté, lightly it covering with the plastic wrap and refrigerate until set. Grind additional pepper over the top before serving with crackers or slices of baguette. Keeps for a week in the refrigerator and up to 3 months (well-wrapped) in the freezer.
What's not to love about corn, potatoes, cheese and bacon? Not much, in my book. There is even less wrong when the recipe comes from the Barefoot Contessa, Ina Garten. Corn chowder is my favorite harbinger of the shorter days and colder temperatures of autumn. I make a huge batch every fall and freeze it to eat over the winter— there is something about corn and potatoes that makes me so happy. It's always a good idea to have a couple of soups or chowders in your repertoire so if you need a quick and dirty dinner idea, you are in business. This chowder can be easily doubled or tripled and freezes brilliantly.
Corn Chowder With Cheddar Cheese(Adapted From The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook by Ina Garten)
8 ounces bacon, chopped
1/4 cup olive oil
6 cups chopped yellow onions (4 large onions)
4 tbsp butter
1/2 cup flour
2 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1/2 tsp ground turmeric
12 cups chicken stock, preferably home-made or low sodium
6 cups medium-diced red boiling potatoes, unpeeled (2 pounds)
10 cups corn kernels, fresh (10 ears) or frozen (3 pounds)
2 1/2 cups half-and-half
1/2 pound sharp white cheddar cheese, grated
Preparation
If using fresh corn, cut the kernels off the cob and blanch them for 3 minutes in boiling salted water. Drain and reserve. Place the corn cob and half and half in a sauté pan and simmer over medium low heat for 20 minutes. (If using frozen corn you can skip this step).
In a large stockpot over medium-high heat, cook the bacon and olive oil until the bacon is crisp, about 5 minutes. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and reserve. Reduce the heat to medium, add the onions and butter to the fat, and cook for 10 minutes, until the onions are translucent.
Stir in the flour, salt, pepper, and turmeric and cook for 3 minutes. Add the chicken stock and potatoes, bring to a boil, and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes, until the potatoes are tender. ) Add the corn to the soup, then add the half-and-half and cheddar. Cook for 5 more minutes, until the cheese is melted. Season, to taste, with salt and pepper. Serve hot with a garnish of bacon.
It turned out to be a splendid day. We were all looking forward to a snowy Sunday but as the hours marched on towards Monday, I started to lose hope. The weather people had been downgrading the storm all day and by 8:30, I d resigned myself to a measly dusting of snow (while my family in Minneapolis was literally rolling in it).
An hour later, we were celebrating. Jack came downstairs with the most marvelous news— a new winter storm warning had been issued and there were 5 to 9 inches of snow on the way. I love a snow day like a George loves his Chuck-it and judging from Charlie's happy dance, I think he does as well. I couldn't wait to wake up on Monday morning to a world of white.
The kids technically had school but we live 12 miles away, the roads were bad and it was still snowing when we woke up; I decided a Dougherty Day was in order (a Dougherty day is an unplanned day off to lounge around the house and play hooky). Last week was a blur— between ski team, volleyball and Christmas Carol, we were running around constantly. Today was a much-needed break from the treadmill of commitments the kids have each week. We played with the dogs outside, went for a walk downtown, baked cookies, played cards and assembled Christmas treats. It was a perfect Dougherty snow day.
Bayfield loves a fresh coat of snow, it looked like a Norman Rockwell painting today.
My two girls in the snow. We went for our walk before we spent the afternoon in the kitchen. I'm not much of a baker but we decided to tackle some Christmas cookies and treats. Overall, it went well. We have about 2 million mints, I misread the directions and ended up quadrupling the recipe. Thank God the kids like butter mints.
George was acting horridly on the way down to the dock so I decided to let him loose rather than fall flat on my face because he refused to stop tugging me along. He took off and didn't look back, that dog knows how to have a good time.
George prefers to handle the leash himself.
This may be kind of a lame Christmas treat but it's totally within my skill set and it's a big hit around here. Who doesn't like pretzels dipped in almond bark and rolled in crushed candy canes?
Butter mints are going to be the name of the game around here for a while, we have a lot of them. The combination of my utter disregard for reading recipes and lack of reading glasses resulted in a miscalculation with the powdered sugar. We have a lot of mints to eat, give away, vacuum pack, pave the driveway with...you get the idea. The good news is that it's a super easy recipe and they remind me of the mints my Grandmas Duffy always had at her house.
Butter Mints(From Williams Sonoma Holiday Cooking With Kids)
2 1/2 cups confectioners sugar
2 tbsp butter, softened
1 1/2 tbsp warm water
1/2 tsp peppermint extract, plus extra as needed
red and green food coloring
Preparation
Put one cup of the sugar, butter and 1 tbsp of water in the bowl of a mixer. Beat on medium speed until the mixture is smooth and well blended. Slowly add the remaining 1 1/2 cups sugar and 1/2 tsp water, continuing to beat at medium speed until the mixture is smooth. The sugar mixture should be soft and not sticky. Add more water if it's crumbly and if it's too sticky, add more sugar. It should have the consistency of pie crust dough.
Remove dough from the mixer, separate it into 1 to 4 smaller balls, and add one ball back into the mixer. Add the food coloring of your choice to the ball by squirting the droplets on top of the dough (careful when you turn on the mixer), and paddle on low-speed until coloring is well-blended. Coloring will not blend completely into each and every speck of dough if examined extremely closely, but overall, mix until color is uniform.
Wash the mixing bowl and the paddle in between each color change and repeat until all the balls are colored. After the dough has been colored, either wrap it with plastic wrap and place it in an airtight container in the refrigerator to be rolled out later or roll it immediately.
Place a golf-ball sized amount of dough in your hands and roll dough into long thin cylinders about 1 centimeter wide. Place cylinders on countertop and with a pizza cutter slice cylinder into bite size pieces. You can make any size or shape of mint that strikes your fancy— go crazy! Store mints in an airtight container in the refrigerator where they will keep for many weeks.
The Owl And The Pussycat Edward Lear
Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will." So they took it away, and were married next day By the Turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon, The moon, The moon, They danced by the light of the moon.
In my search to find a new preserve to serve with pâté and cheese, I ran across a recipe with what seemed like a beautiful combination— quince, cranberry and ginger. Not being one to let a little thing like difficulty in locating or unfamiliarity with an ingredient stop me, I decided this preserve was 'the one'. The entire breadth and depth of my experience with quince could be summed in five words: quince paste and manchego cheese, I had never eaten or even seen a quince before. Given the fact I live in Bayfield and exotic fruits are not part of the food scene up here, I knew I may have a problem. Julie came to my rescue, went to the Co-op in Ashland and special ordered a case of the most lovely yellow misshapen orbs I had laid eyes on.
Quince are an ancient fruit, cultivated sometime between 200 B.C.E and 100 B.C.E in Mesopotamia. While they are a member of the apple and pear family, they were cultivated long before apples and many ancient references, like Eve's forbidden fruit, were most likely quince, not apple. They are also associated, in Greek mythology, with love, marriage, fertility and Aphrodite. I had no idea quinces were basically the fruit equivalent of love potion number 9, a matchmaker and a fertility goddess all rolled into a baseball sized package. While it's pretty much inedible raw (it has a tart, astringent flavor and dry texture), it comes to life when cooked. It's unique fragrance, a mixture of pineapple, guava and pear, combined with its sweet apple and rose petal perfumey flavor are enough to make me swoon, or dance by the light of the moon.
Cranberry & Quince Preserves(Adapted from Apt. 2B Baking Co.)
1 1/2 lbs fresh or frozen cranberries
1 1/2 lbs peeled, cored, and diced quince (1/2'' sized pieces)
4 cups dark brown sugar
3 cups water
2 oz peeled and grated fresh ginger, about a 3'' long piece
1/4 cup crystallized ginger, chopped
1/4 tsp cloves
Zest and juice of one lemon
Zest and juice of one orange
Cleaned and sterilized jars and lids
Preparation
In a large pot over medium high heat dissolve the sugar into the water, then add the cranberries, chopped quince, grated ginger, crystallized ginger, cloves, lemon zest and juice, and the orange zest and juice. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the quince is soft, the cranberries have popped and the mixture has thickened slightly, about 45 minutes.
Ladle the hot preserves into prepared jars, wipe the rims with a clean towel and process in a hot water bath for 10 minutes. Makes about 4 pints.
Okay, I bet you are wondering where I'm going with this one; what does a satirist like Sedaris have to do with roasted bones? Allow me to explain. David and marrow will forever be entwined in my food memory because I ordered roasted veal marrow for the very first time at Lake Avenue Cafe before we went to see Sedaris at the DECC. It was a big moment for me. I have a book, My Last Supper , which asks famous chefs 'what would be your last meal on earth?' and Anthony Bourdain, sans clothing, answers, 'roast bone marrow with parsley and caper salad, with a few toasted slices of baguette and some good sea salt'. If it's good enough for his last meal, it would be sublime for my Friday night dinner.
I'd heard about the joy of beefy buttery marrow but my dogs eat raw bones and it was hard to imagine making a dinner out of what they are gnawing on under the table. It's not that I'm adverse to sharing with the dogs but other members of my household might take umbrage with such a dinner plan. Up to this point, bones at the Dougherty's were for canines only but it was all about to change. I'm tremendously glad I ordered them— it truly tastes like beefy butter and the tangy parsley and caper pesto was the perfect counterpoint to the rich and subtly sweet marrow.
As we were leaving the restaurant, I knew what I wanted to eat on Saturday night, more marrow, but wasn't sure where to procure veal bones in Bayfield. I buy the dog bones at the IGA (which are essentially the same thing) but I figured I would have a much higher chance of success in getting Ted to slather his toasted baguette with marrow if it came in a different package than George's bones. I called my favorite grocery store in Duluth, Mount Royal, and sure enough, they had beef bones and were open until midnight. This is when I knew I had some of the very best friends in the world, they agreed to be dragged along on my marrow quest at 11 o'clock after we saw Sedaris. We headed back to Bayfield with my groceries (they also carry my favorite butter from Eau Claire) and I went to bed a happy girl.
In case you are thinking, beefy butter? That sounds like a heart attack waiting to happen. Let me put your mind at ease, marrow is seriously good for you (within reason). While there is a fair amount of fat in each luscious spoonful, it's also full of vitamins and minerals, has a healthy dose of monounsaturated fatty acids and has zero saturated fat. Plus, you can share with your dogs after you've cleaned out the marrow— now that's my kind of meal.
Roasted Beef Marrow with Parsley and Caper Pesto (adapted from The Whole Beast: Nose to Tail Eating by Fergus Henderson)
8 3"-4" long pieces beef marrow bones
1 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
2 small shallots (about 1/3 cup)
2 garlic cloves
2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 1/2 tbsp salted capers, rinsed
1/2 cup parmesan cheese, grated
Maldon sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 - 10 slices baguette, brushed with olive oil and toasted
Preparation
Preheat oven to 450°. Place bones, wider cut side down, in a roasting pan. Season with salt and pepper. Roast bones until marrow is soft and begins to separate from the bone but before it begins to melt, 15-20 minutes, depending on the thickness of bones.
Meanwhile, place parsley, shallots, garlic, oil, lemon juice, and capers in a food processor or blender and process until smooth. Season pesto with salt and pepper.
Serve the bones, pesto, parmesan cheese, toasted baguette slices and additional Maldon salt and pepper on a platter. Using a long, thin spoon, scoop marrow onto toast, top with pesto and garnish with a pinch or two of salt and parmesan.
As I sat in the theater last night and listened to Noah, Liesl and Tom speak to the kids before the dress rehearsal, I was reminded once again of why I love living in this little town. The message from the adults on stage to a theater full of excited young actors was perfect: have fun, keep growing and developing your character and we are so proud of you. What a gift they gave to the kids— the opportunity to stretch their wings and take chances in a nurturing and supportive environment. What more could I ask for?
Charlie and Will scored the good dressing room this year, they're in the basement with 6 or 7 other boys complete with a recliner, internet and power for their iPods, Kindles and Nintendos. Meg is up in the kitchen area with me and that is a whole different scene— lots of girls with lots of things to say and not a recliner in sight. Quiet is the name of the game backstage after the curtain goes up— kind of tough with 8 girls in a dressing room. They are tremendously enthusiastic about everything— the costumes, hairdo's, snacks, Minecraft, homework and Christmas Carol. It's fun to get know the kids outside of schoool— they are a tremendously funny and interesting troupe of characters.
If I had to try to capture the essence of Charlie, this photo pretty much sums it all up— happy, happy, joy, joy.
Meghan is Man A (and she gets to say, is it an ass? in a party scene...she's pretty pumped about that), Will is Father and Charlie is Mr Fezziwig (Julie's daughter, Caroline, is Mrs Fezziwig and for the next three weeks we get to be Mother-In-Laws).
I love these pictures of the boys, they are growing into such handsome young men.
Meg's soon to be famous 'is it an ass' scene.
Praying
Mary Oliver
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
I picked up an old cookbook, Soup A Way Of Life by Barbara Kafka the other day and started leafing through it. It had been quite a while since I used it, I rarely need a recipe when I make soup— most of the time my inspiration comes from leftovers in the fridge. Shrimp bisque seemed like a whole different deal—the combination of big flavor, smooth texture and pieces of tender shrimp required some finesse and technique. This recipe delivers on all counts, it's one of the best shrimp bisques I've eaten.
Barbara said in the preface of her cookbook, 'Soup is easy food, easy for the eater and easy for the cook. Aside from a few basically restaurant soups, traditional and complex, a little variation in ingredients or technique will only personalize the soup rather than causing disaster'. Personalization instead of dinner disaster, now that's the kind of food I can wrap my head around. Another bonus of becoming a soup making fiend— leftovers in the freezer. They come in remarkably handy when you realize it's 8 o'clock and you haven't even started thinking about dinner. Don't freeze the cooked shrimp in the soup. It's best to add new uncooked shrimp to the re-heated soup before you serve it (make sure to cook the shrimp thoroughly in the soup prior to serving it). There is nothing more disappointing than rubbery shrimp in a beautiful tomato bisque.
Shrimp Bisque(Adapted From Soup A Way Of Life By Barbara Kafka)
6 cups seafood stock (I used this one, or you can make your own)
2 cups dry white wine
12 - 14 large shrimp in the shell
7 tbsp butter
2 tbsp olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
carrot, chopped
1 rib of celery, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, chopped
2 whole cloves
1 sprig thyme
1/2 cup of Cognac or brandy
One 28 ounce can of tomatoes and purée (I used Carmelina's, my favorite)
2 tsp tomato paste
8 tbsp flour
2 tbsp mild paprika
1 1/2 cup heavy cream
5 tsp kosher salt
Hot red pepper sauce, to taste (I used Frank's Hot Sauce)
Fresh lemon juice, to taste
Preparation
Peel the shrimp, reserving the shells, quarter and refrigerate. In a medium stockpot, heat 2 tbsp of butter and the olive oil over medium-high heat, add the shells and cook for 8 - 10 minutes. Remove the shells and add the onion, carrot, celery, garlic, cloves and thyme. Lower the heat to the lowest possible level and cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes.
Pour in 2 cups of white wine and the brandy. Raise the heat. Bring just to a boil. Add the seafood stock and bring to a boil. Stir in the tomatoes (with the purée or juices) and tomato paste and bring to a boil again. Lower the heat and simmer, covered, for 25 minutes. Very carefully, purée the stock with an immersion blender or a counter top blender until it's very smooth. Keep warm on the stove top.
In another medium stockpot, melt the remaining butter over low heat. Stir in the flour and paprika to make a roux. Cook, alternatively stirring and mashing the roux down in the pan, for about 5 minutes.
Whisk in 1 cup of the pureed stock into the pan until smooth. Slowly whisk in the remaining liquid. Bring to a boil, whisking frequently, to ensure a smooth soup. Lower the heat and simmer, stirring with a wooden spoon, especially around the edges of the pan, for about 10 minutes. Stir in the cream, salt, red pepper hot sauce, lemon juice and shrimp. Cook until shrimp is pink and heated through, about 3 - 5 minutes. Serve immediately.
It's going to be a good winter around the Dougherty house. My exploration of meatballs is well underway and I've recently added duck to the agenda. For some reason, cooking a duck in my very own oven never occurred to me. Which is really strange given the steady stream of cookery ideas that pop into my head randomly throughout the day. I don't know if it was the whole fancy French confit bit or that there aren't any duck hunters under this roof but up to this point, my kitchen has been a quack-free zone.
It all changed when I was strolling through the Washburn IGA. I happened to look in the frozen meat case and there it was— 5 pounds of duck, wrapped in white plastic and ready to come home with me. I had a new cookbook on the shelf, Canal House Cooking Vol. 2 with a recipe for duck with apples and onions— perfect for my two IGA frozen lovelies. The Canal House series wasn't on my radar until Jill gave me the cookbook for my birthday— I was immediately taken with the pictures, layout and recipes (it's good to have friends who love good food and design). There are 8 or 9 volumes, each book costs about 10.00 and they are so pretty to look at— I can't wait to cook my way through all of these lovely pages.
Duck With Apples And Onions(Adapted From Canal House Cooking Volume 2)
One 5 - 6 pound duck, cut into 8 - 10 pieces, including excess skin and fat, diced (I spatchcocked the duck, instead of cutting into pieces)
4 small onions, halved lengthwise
4 apples, peeled, cored and quartered
2 tbsp chopped fresh thyme, plus extra for garnish
1 tbsp chopped fresh rosemary, plus extra for garnish
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup port
Salt and pepper (I used my herbed garlic salt)
Preparation
Season the duck on all sides with salt and pepper. Arrange the duck skin side down in a large skillet with a cover. Scatter the skin and fat around the duck. Cook over medium-high heat (resist the temptation to turn the duck; leave it skin side down the whole time) until the duck is very well browned, about 20 minutes. Leave the duck skin side down, reduce heat to low, cover and cook for 45 minutes more. Transfer the duck and most of the cracklings from the skillet to a platter with a slotted spoon. Place in a warm oven (don't cover, the skin will get soggy) .
Add the onions cut side down along with the apples, thyme and rosemary to the skillet with all the duck fat and juices. Increase the heat to medium-high and brown the onions and apples, taking care to keep the onion halves whole, about 10 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover and cook until the apples and onions are tender, about 15 minutes more. Remove the onions and apples from the skillet and arrange them around the duck.
Pour off and discard the fat from the skillet. Add the port and cream to the skillet and cook for about 5 minutes, using a wooden spoon to scrape up any browned bits form the bottom of the skillet. Pour the sauce over the duck, garnish with reserved thyme and rosemary and serve.
Will captured some beautiful images of the harbor last night during his solo photo safari.
He's such a gifted photographer and I love seeing the world through his eyes.
Monte's ham was the gift that just kept giving and giving and giving. Eventually, there's only so much ham a girl can eat, I froze the remaining meat and spent a couple of minutes contemplating the rather large ham bone sitting on my counter. Split pea soup was the first thought that came to mind but since I find the texture of pea soup akin to mealy gruel, I needed another idea. When I make my Cuban black beans, I throw a little ham in for a subtle smoky (and porky) flavor. What if I added more broth to the Cuban beans and made it a soup? I had nothing to lose, there was a ham bone on my counter, black beans in the drawer and assorted vegetables in the refrigerator. Don't you love it when you come up with an entire meal from leftovers and ingredients you have lying around your kitchen? I felt thrifty and inventive— all at the same time.
Ham and Black Bean Soup
16 ounces dry black beans
2 quarts water bone from a large ham
2 red peppers, chopped
1 jalapeño pepper, minced
1 poblano pepper, minced
2 chipotle peppers, minced
1 onion, finely chopped
28 ounce can of diced tomatoes with the juice
1 tbsp chili powder
1 tbsp cumin
1 tsp paprika
2 tbsp dried oregano
6 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup cilantro, chopped
1 cup dry white wine chicken or vegetable broth (preferably home-made or low sodium), enough to just cover the other ingredients
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground pepper
Preparation
The night before you make the soup, pick through the beans and remove any bad ones. Put the beans into the pot and add 2 quarts of water. Remove the beans that float. Allow to soak overnight. Drain.
Place the ham bone in the bottom of the slow cooker pot. Add the soaked beans, all the peppers, onion, tomatoes, chili powder, cumin, paprika, oregano, garlic and white wine. Add broth, just enough to cover everything. Put on the lid and cook on high for about 6 to 7 hours or on low for 9 to 10 hours, until the beans are tender. Season to taste with salt and pepper, add the cilantro, stir and cook for another 30 minutes. Serve with sour cream, avocados and chopped green onions.
Comfort food comes in lots of shapes and sizes. Whether you are making a rice hot dish with ham and peas or a ham and pea risotto, it's all about a creamy pot of rice and ham. There were a lot of leftovers from my Monte's ham dinner and since it's gets dark in what used to be the mid-afternoon, carbs and salty meat sounded like just the thing for dinner. I have nothing against a good, old-fashioned hot dish (I have a few standbys from the Our Lady of Grace cookbook) but I was in the mood for risotto. I love the process of standing at the stove and adding the broth little by little until you have a beautiful creamy sauce. Perfect for a dark and cold winter night.
Ham and Pea Risotto
3 tablespoons butter
¼ cup shallots, chopped
2 tbsp garlic, minced
2 cups Arborio or Carnaroli rice
1 cup dry white wine
6-8 cups chicken broth (preferably homemade or low sodium)
1 cup grated parmesan
1 cup diced or shredded ham
1 cup peas
Salt and pepper to taste
Preparation
In a large saucepan bring the broth to a simmer. Cover and keep warm over low heat.
Heat the butter in a heavy large (and preferably shallow) pot over medium heat. Add the shallots and garlic and sauté until just tender, about 5 - 7 minutes.
Add the rice and cook over medium-high heat for about one minute, stirring to coat with the butter. Add the white wine and stir until the wine is absorbed, about 30 seconds.
Add the first addition of simmering stock, about 1/2 cup. Stir until most of the liquid is absorbed. Add another addition of stock and stir until most of the liquid is absorbed. Repeat this process until the mixture is creamy and a bit loose; the rice should still have some chew to it. The process will take about 20 minutes.
Turn off the heat and stir in the chopped ham, peas and parmesan. Season with salt and pepper.
