Mussels Bathed In Thai Red Curry

I was a frequent Thai food take-out customer when we lived in St. Paul— Ruam Mit Thai  had some of the best Thai I've ever eaten. However, Ruam Mit doesn't have a Bayfield satellite and I needed to develop some Thai cooking skills. Our friend, Rich, was our very first dinner guest when we bought our house in Bayfield six years ago and he brought all the ingredients and made the dinner. As frequent visitors to my kitchen will attest, I'm a little territorial about my space near the stove but Rich is welcome anytime. He taught me how to make Thai food and I'll love him forever for sharing his recipe for Thai red curry with me. I still have the original recipe he copied for me before he left to go back to Minneapolis— as you can see from the picture, it's seen a lot of action in my kitchen.

I met Rich's wife, Tammy, on the dock when I was 8 months pregnant with Charlie. I looked across the marina and saw an equally pregnant woman walking down C dock and knew I needed to introduce myself— hugely pregnant women in a marina are about as rare as Piping Plovers on Long Island. I'm so glad I waddled over to meet her— it turned out Rich grew up three or four houses away from Ted, our kids went to the same pediatrician and our babies were due within 2 weeks of each other. Over the years, we spent many weekends out in the islands and even made the trek across the Lake to Grand Marias a couple of times. We always ate well on our adventures and dinner at Naviya's Thai Kitchen was an integral part of the meal planning process. So when Rich showed up at my door in Bayfield with the fixings for a grand Thai dinner, I was thrilled. Thai food, Grand Marais and the Jamieson's— beautiful and delicious memories.

Thai Red Curry Mussels (Adapted from Madhur Jaffrey's Far Eastern Cookery)

1 3/4 cups coconut milk
1 sweet potato, peeled and diced into 1 inch cubes
2 pounds mussels, debearded and scrubbed
1 stalk lemongrass, crushed
3 tbsp shallot, minced
2 tbsp galangal, chopped
1 tbsp garlic, minced
1/2 tsp salt
4 tbsp vegetable oil
4 tbsp red curry paste ( I use Mae Ploy)
1 1/2 tbsp fish sauce
1 tsp brown sugar
4 fresh kaffir lime leaves ( I buy a bunch of them at the Asian market in Minneapolis and freeze them)
10 fresh sweet basil leaves, julienned
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped

Preparation
Skim off 4 tablespoons of the thick cream of the coconut milk and set it aside. Stir the rest of the coconut milk to mix. Place the diced sweet potatoes, lemongrass, shallot, galangal, kaffir lime leaves, garlic and coconut milk in a saucepan, heat over medium heat and braise until the sweet potato is softened (about 10 - 15 minutes). Remove from heat and set aside.

Put the oil and reserved coconut cream in a heavy wok or wide heavy pan. Bring it to a boil. Add the curry paste and stir and fry over medium high heat until the oil separates and the paste is lightly browned. Lower the heat and add the fish sauce and sugar. Stir to mix. Add the sweet potato/coconut milk mixture and bring to a simmer. Add the mussels, cover and steam until the mussels open (discard any mussels that do not open). Stir in the basil and cilantro and serve immediately over steamed jasmine rice.

The Best Beer In The World

I'm a fan, a really big fan, of wine but my beer knowledge is pretty limited. I tend to categorize beer by color (light brown, medium brown and dark brown) and we named our Newfie Guinness because he was black and stout— that's the sum total of my beer knowledge. So when my friend showed up with the 'best beer in the world', I was suspicious. I did what any good non-beer drinker would do when the 'best beer in the world' was sitting on the kitchen counter, I googled it. Turns out, he was right. According to Huffington Post, 'Westvleteren XII is produced by Trappist monks at the abbey of Saint Sixtus in the Belgian countryside, and only available  for purchase through hard-to-get reservations. The beer's sudden appearance in the States is a financial necessity for the abbey -- after a round of expensive renovations, the monks decided to sell the beer outside the monastery for one time only'.

After doing a kitchen renovation a couple of years ago, I completely understand coming in over budget and needing to raise some extra cash. Those Trappist monks are lucky to have some expensive beer ($84.99 for a six-pack and 2 glasses) to feather their newly renovated nest and I was lucky to get a taste of a pretty spectacular beer. Can I say it's the best in the world? I'm not sure what the criteria is for such a lofty title but I can say it was nicely balanced with prominent notes of chocolate, dried fruits, spice and molasses. Maybe the monks will decide to renovate the rest of the Abbey in 2013 and I'll get a chance at honing my beer tasting skills on another bottle of Westvleteren. I'll keep you posted.

Who Needs A Little Huli Huli??

It's finally warming up. We've been in the deep freeze for the last couple weeks and 25 degrees above zero is my version of a heat wave in February. And that means grilling some huli huli chicken and pineapple for dinner. Lighting the grill with snowflakes drifting downward seems kind of counterintuitive but it's a nice reminder of all the summer nights to come. Who couldn't use a little luau and huli huli in the middle of winter?

Huli Huli Chicken (Adapted from The Best Of America's Test Kitchen 2010)

Brine & Chicken
3 quarts water
1 cup orange juice
1 cup pineapple juice
1 1/3 cup soy sauce
3/4 cup kosher salt
2 cups brown sugar
6 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
2 medium yellow onions, peeled and quartered
2 tbsp red pepper flakes 2 whole chickens, quartered

Glaze
2 1/4 cups pineapple juice
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup ketchup
1/4 cup rice vinegar
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 tbsp fresh ginger, minced
2 tsp Asian chili-garlic sauce

Brine Preparation
In a large stockpot, add the water, sugar and salt. Heat until the sugar and salt is melted and then cool completely. Once the water/sugar/salt mixture is cool, add the remaining ingredients, including the chicken, to a very large container, place in refrigerator for at least 4 hours and up to 8 hours.

Glaze Preparation
Combine the pineapple juice, sugar, soy sauce, ketchup, vinegar, garlic, ginger and chili-garlic sauce in an empty saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer until thick and syrupy (you should have about 1 cup) 20 to 25 minutes. The sauce can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

Grilling The Chicken
Prepare a charcoal grill and heat until hot. Remove the chicken from the brine and pat dry. Arrange the chicken, skin-side up, on the grill and grill, covered, until the chicken is well browned and the thickest part of the thigh registers 120 degrees, 25 to 30 minutes. Flip the chicken skin-side down and continue to grill, covered, until the skin is well browned and crisp, about another 20 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a platter, brush with half the glaze, and let rest for 5 minutes. Serve, passing the remaining glaze at the table.

The Many Faces At The Sled Dog Races

Julie and Caroline raced in the Apostle Islands Sled Dog Race this year and I was the official dog petter/photographer of the Buckles/Ray team (read all about it here). Talk about an expressive bunch of dogs— it was a brilliant way to spend a few hours on a beautiful winter afternoon.

This guy was resting up before the race— talk about calm, cool and collected.

Bisoux was the picture of composure (until she got her harness on).

I wish I knew this guy's name— he stole my heart.

Pronce— striking a pose.

Holstein in a very, very rare moment of quiet contemplation.

Bisoux is one loving girl with a serious side of bad ass— don't cross her.

Juliette, the one eyed, geriatric husky, kept up with the young-uns with a smile on her face— pure Husky bliss.

Fragile

If I ever had questions about the fragility of life, the past couple weeks put them to rest, for good. The first little 'ping' came two weeks ago when Will and I went for our Sunday photo safari. I woke up that morning with the phrase, 'the last places are worth saving'  in my head and we set out to find a few photos of those last places. It's not difficult to find showstopping photos up here and within an hour, we were cold and headed home. On our way towards Bayfield, we saw two eagles being chased by a single crow right after we left the beach. One of the eagles had 'dinner' in his talons and Will and I were amazed at the chutzpah of that single crow. He was one wrong move away from becoming dinner himself. I couldn't stop wondering why a crow would be going up against two large eagles— was he too lazy to find his own dinner or was there a bigger message in the tableau Will and I were witnessing?

Of course, I thought it was symbolic of the David and Goliath mining battle playing out in the Penokees. Talk about fragile, the mine would pollute the Bad River watershed and subsequently Lake Superior.  That kind of cause and effect is easy to understand— the bad guys pollute the water and the good guys lose everything. But what happens when it's not as clear and bad things happen anyway?

Within the past week, two eagles have died from lead poisoning (I'm not sure if they were the two eagles I saw with Will). The eagles, and other animals, eat gutpiles from deer carcasses and if the deer are killed with lead bullets, the gut piles are contaminated. To be fair, I'm not entirely sure the eagles died from scavenging lead contaminated deer carcasses but it drives home the message that everything is connected and something as benign, and even seemingly responsible, as leaving the gutpile from a harvested deer to feed eagles, coyotes, and whatever else is hungry can lead to unintended but deadly consequences.

I used to see an eagle in a tree at the mouth of the Sioux River and every time I drove over the bridge, I looked towards the lake to see if he was perched on the top branch. I haven't seen him since the news of the lead poisoning came out and I'm afraid he's gone. The sight of that eagle in the tree became a touchstone for me and I felt blessed every time I saw him. It's heavy when you realize every step, decision and movement you make has consequences, seen or unseen, and to plow blindly forward is not only selfish but irresponsible. It can feel immobilizing, the awareness of our woven destiny with everything that surrounds us. But what happens when the weave supports and sustains us?

Jim Hudson died last week and we are still reeling. Losing a man as loved and respected as Jim sent shock waves through every corner of our little town and I was reminded, again, of how we are all woven into the same tapestry. As I watched the horrible story unfold, I started to notice the support that was swelling to help Hannah, Jim's wife, after his passing. I also noticed the stories and testimonies about Jim and the legacy he left behind. He was tremendously loved, in Bayfield and beyond.

I think the first time I met Jim, he had George in the back of his police car (George had a fierce wanderlust in his early years) and with his characteristic smile, he dropped George off, swapped some fishing tips with Ted and went on his way. Over the years, I've gotten to know Jim and Hannah better and their generosity of spirit was remarkable. I remember the first time Hannah complimented Will on his photography, he was thrilled and I doubt he'll ever forget his first compliment from a professional photographer. That's just one example of how she fostered an environment where a 13-year-old boy could feel like a giant, I know there are many, many more. Talk about paying it forward, she has an overflowing account of good will, love and support coming her way.

All life is fragile and the delicate balance of our choices and their consequences can be overwhelming. From taking a stand for the Lake, eagles and other wildlife, to living your life in alignment with your deepest and most dearly held convictions, these are the threads that bind us together. There are bound to be losses that bring us to our knees but the tapestry we've built with our words, actions and lives will support us until we can walk on, towards what's next.

A bit of advice Given to a young Native American At the time of his initiation: As you go the way of life, You will see a great chasm.  Jump. It is not as wide as you think.

Joseph Campbell

A Greek Hotdish- It's What For Dinner

This recipe goes way back in the Dougherty dinner history book, back to 2078 St Clair Ave with a temperamental electric oven and the neighbor who liked to eat dinner in his underwear (we had a front row seat because our houses were about 3 feet apart). Those were the days before I had much cooking experience and a package of phyllo was enough to give me hives. I remember reading the directions and almost jumping ship when I read, 'keep the phyllo covered with a damp towel to keep it from drying out'. I quickly figured out there is a distinct and important difference between 'damp' and 'wet'— a dripping towel and phyllo sheets resulted in a sticky mess. Since I already had the feta and spinach, I wasn't about to let my lack of attention to details ruin my Greek hot dish. I loaded Sadie and Will in the stroller, hiked down to Widmer's, bought more phyllo and with my 'damp' towel, started assembling my masterpiece.

I honestly don't remember how it turned out, that oven was troublesome and had more hotspots than a Labrador with food allergies, and I can't imagine what it would have done to phyllo. Of course, back in those days with three kids under 6, it's no wonder my memory is a little foggy. I'm sure it was a hit because it made the regular dinner rotation. I had some phyllo in danger of major freezer burn and some Sassy Nanny Feta in the fridge— it was time for a trip down memory lane with a Greek hot dish (without the neighbor in his undies).

Beef, Spinach & Feta Casserole

Beef Filling
1 tbsp. canola oil
1/2yellow onion, finely chopped
1/2 red bell pepper, cored, seeded, and finely chopped
3 stalks of celery, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 pound ground beef
One 28 can of chopped tomatoes, in purée
2 tbsp fresh oregano, chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Spinach & Feta Filling
Two 10 ounce packages of frozen spinach, thawed
1 package of cream cheese, softened
1 cup feta, crumbled
1/2 cup Parmesan, shredded
1/4 cup dill, chopped
1/4 cup green onions, sliced
3 eggs, lightly beaten
Kosher salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup butter, melted
12 sheets phyllo dough

Beef Preparation
Heat oil in 12″ skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, pepper, celery and garlic, cook until soft, about 6 minutes. Add beef and cook until browned, stirring so that the meat breaks up into small pieces, about 8 minutes. Add tomatoes. oregano, salt and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until reduced and thick, about 10 minutes. Set aside.

Spinach & Feta Preparation And Casserole Assembly
Squeeze as much moisture from the thawed spinach. Mix the spinach, cream cheese, feta, Parmesan, dill, green onions, eggs, salt and pepper in a large bowl. Brush the bottom of a 13 x 9 inch baking pan with olive oil or cooking spray. Add the beef mixture to the pan and then place the spinach mixture on top. Spread the spinach mixture as evenly as possible over the beef mixture.

Keep the phyllo covered with a damp towel. Brush the top of a sheet of phyllo dough with butter and place it in the pan. (You may have to cut the phyllo dough to fit the pan.) Repeat until you have 6 layers. Take the remaining 6 pieces of phyllo, butter them and then fold them up 'accordion style' and place them next to each other on top the phyllo.

Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven until golden brown on top, about 30-50 minutes. Let it sit for about 10 minutes and then serve immediately.

The Last Places Are Worth Saving

“The good life of any river may depend on the perception of its music; and the preservation of some music to perceive.” Aldo Leopold

'All ethics so far evolved rest upon a single premise: that the individual is a member of a community of interdependent parts. His instincts prompt him to compete for his place in that community, but his ethics prompt him also to co-operate (perhaps in order that there may be a place to compete for).

The land ethic simply enlarges the boundaries of the community to include soils, waters, plants, and animals, or collectively: the land.

This sounds simple: do we not already sing our love for and obligation to the land of the free and the home of the brave? Yes, but just what and whom do we love? Certainly not the soil, which we are sending helter-skelter downriver. Certainly not the waters, which we assume have no function except to turn turbines, float barges, and carry off sewage. Certainly not the plants, of which we exterminate whole communities without batting an eye. Certainly not the animals, of which we have already extirpated many of the largest and most beautiful species. A land ethic of course cannot prevent the alteration, management, and use of these 'resources,' but it does affirm their right to continued existence, and, at least in spots, their continued existence in a natural state.' Aldo Leopold A Sand County Almanac

I'm lucky to live in one of the world's 'last places', a place still relatively untouched by expansion and extraction. While a stand of old growth pines are a rarity due to logging and fisheries in Bayfield aren't shipping 12,000 barrels of whitefish and trout a year like they were in 1881; Lake Superior is still crystal clear and cold, white and red pines poke their heads up over the forest canopy and I can see every single star in the night sky. These are worth saving.

There are complicated issues facing Lake Superior— GTac, a company based in Florida, wants to build an open-pit (4.5 miles long, 1.5 miles wide and up 1,000 feet deep) taconite mine in the Penokee Mountains, six miles from the Bad River Reservation and Lake Superior. Twenty three creeks, streams and rivers flow directly into the Bad River Reservation, specifically the Kakagon Slough, and then into Lake Superior from the mine site. Sulfides, a by-product of mining, will flow directly downstream— decimating the wild rice beds, killing fish and polluting 10 percent of the world's fresh water. Sounds like a no-brainer— who would want to pollute one of the most beautiful places on Earth? The complications arise from the real and pressing problem of poverty and unemployment. A promise (valid or not) of 700 'good paying' jobs are a Siren's song to people who are looking for relief from financial distress. However, the question remains— what is our legacy to the people, animals and trees who come after us?

'For unnumbered centuries of human history the wilderness has given way. The priority of industry has become dogma. Are we as yet sufficiently enlightened to realize that we must now challenge that dogma, or do without our wilderness? Do we realize that industry, which has been our good servant, might make a poor master? Let no man expect that one lone government bureau is able—even tho it be willing—to thrash out this question alone.

....Our remnants of wilderness will yield bigger values to the nation's character and health than they will to its pocketbook, and to destroy them will be to admit that the latter are the only values that interest us.' Aldo Leopold 'A Plea For Wilderness Hunting Grounds' The Best of Outdoor Life: One Hundred Years of Classic Stories

When I was 8 or 9, my Mom, Bridget, Tom and I took an Amtrak train to Duluth, it was a big deal. We met my Dad at the Radisson and had dinner in the rotating restaurant on the top floor. As the harbor came into view, I remember seeing the lake stretch out for miles and was awestruck. That dinner in a slowly spinning restaurant was the start of my lifelong love affair with Lake Superior, a Midwestern inland ocean.

The lake has been a backdrop to so many of our family stories: Ted asked me to marry him on the Moccasin Mike Road beach, I slept in a tent for the first time on that same beach, Jack had his first pickle on the patio at Sir Ben's, a canoe ride north of Two Harbors inspired our purchase of Isle of Skye, we saw our first moose in Washington Harbor on Isle Royale, we saw caribou in the Slate Islands, the kids jumped off cliffs on Devil's Island, we walked up to the top of Mt Ashwabay on my birthday, I swam with Guinness, our Newfie, in Julian Bay, spent countless days on the beaches of Long Island, driving on the ice road, with all the windows down, to Madeline Island, my first sauna on Spain Island near Loon Harbor, the list literally goes on and on. At the end of my time here, I'll leave behind my children and the memories we've made together. Legacy is all we have and our family legacy is forever intertwined with Lake Superior and her shores.

I met literally hundreds of people at Good Thyme and over the course of those evenings, I realized three things: people crave a sense of belonging, they want to create memories and part of the magic of their visit up here was the lake's steadfast constancy. I heard countless stories about rituals and legacies: families who came up to the same cabin every year, beach glass collected to take home, epic rock skipping contests, wedding and subsequent anniversary dinners spent at the restaurant, the first ferry ride to Madeline Island, kayaking in the sea caves, again, the list goes on and on. I'm not unique in my deep affection for this place; there are a million ways to fall in love with Lake Superior and I've seen it in the eyes of people when they shared stories of 'their' lake.

'If in a city we had six vacant lots available to the youngsters of a certain neighborhood for playing ball, it might be "development" to build houses on the first, and the second, and the third, and the fourth, and even the fifth, but when we build houses on the last one, we forget what houses are for. The sixth house would not be development at all, but rather it would be mere short-sighted stupidity. "Development" is like Shakespeare's virtue, "which grown into a pleurisy, dies of its own too-much."

In objection to the dedication of the Gila as a permanent wilderness hunting ground, it has been truly said that a part of the area which would be "locked up" bears valuable stands of timber. I admit that this is true. Likewise, might our sixth lot be a corner lot, and hence very valuable for a grocery store or a filling station. I still insist it is the last lot for a needed playground, and this being the case, I am not interested in grocery stores or filling stations, of which we have a fair to middling supply elsewhere.' Aldo Leopold 'A Plea For Wilderness Hunting Grounds' The Best of Outdoor Life: One Hundred Years of Classic Stories

Extraction is quick and dirty— there is lots of action, fuss and bluster, money is promised and delivered (hopefully) but extractions, at their core, are not endless. Eventually, we'll run out of taconite, the action and money leaves to find another mistress and we're left with a shadow of the beauty and majesty that once was a blessed and integral part of our daily life. At some point, we have to decide the resources we have so generously been given are not endless and deserve our utmost respect and thanks. If I had a wish for my children and grandchildren, it would be they can see and feel the lake that has provided solace, joy and deep peace to their mother and grandmother. I would wish they could continue to add to the tapestry Ted and I started when they were born and pass on a legacy of gratitude and stewardship for one of the great wonders of the world.

What does stewardship and sustainability really mean? Is it possible to re-imagine an economy where we have enough and we re-define abundance?  Is there any common ground between a neighborhood in Minneapolis creating a sense of community with a garden and a group of people in the Chequamegon Bay creating a sense of community with a movement to protect Lake Superior? Absolutely. As Aldo Leopold said, 'the land ethic simply enlarges the boundaries of the community to include soils, waters, plants, and animals, or collectively: the land'. I don't believe we can function in a sustainable way without practicing good stewardship to the people, animals, land and water where we set down our roots. I believe protecting Lake Superior is a good place to start. I believe we are connected in a myriad of unseen but deeply felt ways and these last places— Lake Superior, the Penokees and the Bad River Watershed are worth saving.

'A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.' Aldo Leopold

California Zinfandel & Washington Syrah

"In water one sees one's own face; But in wine, one beholds the heart of another." An Old French proverb

2010 Owen Roe Syrah Ex Umbris

Not only is the label hip and cool, the wine inside the bottle is top-notch. A heady nose of wild berries, smoke and pepper combined with a dense and full body are pure Washington Syrah. There is a fair amount of dark fruit, cherries and licorice on the palate with a medium finish; it's not the biggest Syrah I've had but it's an easy drinking and very smooth wine. I'd recommend either opening the bottle early or decanting, it needs a little time to breathe in order to put it's best foot forward and show you how spectacular Washington Syrah can be. My favorite wine shop, Bayfield Wine and Spirits has a couple bottles left.

2010 Orin Swift Zinfandel Saldo

I really like California Zinfandel but I get tired of overly jammy, one note Zins. Dave Phinney. the winemaker behind The Prisoner, has an uncanny sense for blending big, assertive wines while still maintaining balance and nuance. This vintage is 82% Zinfandel, 10% Petite Sirah, 6% Syrah, 2% Grenache, sourced from 17 vineyards.  Saldo means 'balance' and the zesty spices and anise flavors provide a perfect counterpoint to the dark, lush fruit. This is one of my all time favorites. A glass of Saldo is balm for a rough day or a celebration in the glass for a good one— it's a versatile Zin with way more than one note.

Pancetta Pasta Carbonara

Pancetta, peas and a cream sauce— what's not to like? If that's all I ate for a week, my thighs and arteries might have a list of things not to like but a once a month visit to creamy, salty pasta land won't completely derail my healthy plans for 2013. We have Sunday Funday around here (it helps to have one day a week with a little dietary reckless abandon) and pancetta is the life of the party, as far as I'm concerned. Since I've always had a fondness for peas, I settled on pasta carbonara as our Sunday Funday dinner. It lived up to the hype and was worth the wait— it was a Funday, indeed.

Pasta Carbonara With Pancetta (From The Pioneer Woman website)

12 ounces pasta, any variety
8 ounces pancetta, diced small
1/2 whole red onion, diced small
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 whole eggs
3/4 cups Parmesan, finely grated
3/4 cups heavy cream
Sea salt & plenty of black pepper
1/2 cup peas

Preparation Instructions

Cook pasta according to package directions.

While the pasta is cooking, fry the pancetta until just barely crisp. Remove from the pan and drain on paper towels. Pour off all of the bacon grease, but don't clean the pan. Return the pan to the stove over medium-low heat and throw in the onions and garlic. Cook until golden brown. Set aside.

In a bowl, mix together eggs, Parmesan, cream, and salt and pepper until smooth.

When the pasta is done, reserve a cup or two of the pasta water. Drain the pasta and place it in a bowl. While the pasta is still really hot, slowly drizzle in the egg mixture, stirring the pasta the whole time. The sauce will become thick and should coat the pasta. Splash in a little hot pasta water if needed for consistency.

Halfway through, add the peas, bacon, and sautéed onions and garlic. Finish adding the sauce, stirring until it's all combined.

Add lots of extra Parmesan and serve immediately.

Salsa di Parmigiano & Lamb Blade Chops

I used to buy a Salsa di Parmigiano dip at Kowalski's and ate it by the bucketful with slices of fresh baguette. I completely forgot about it after we moved up here (I wonder what other good food I've forgotten about) but had a lovely reminder in my email in-box a couple of weeks ago. Lemons & Anchovies, a blogger I follow, had a post about it and I was reaquainted with my old cheesy pal from Woodbury. I made a double batch and have eaten it by the spoonful ever since. It's good with bread, roasted chicken, lamb, potatoes, green beans— it's my grown up version of ketchup. One more reason to make a batch— it's been in my refrigerator for a month and still tastes fresh. This is a seriously rock solid and delicious dip, you'll be happy to have it in your fridge.

The day after I made the Salsa di Parmigiano, we needed to eat dinner and I was at an utter loss for a decent and easy idea. So, after 10 minutes spent pacing up and down the meat aisle at the IGA hoping for a stroke of genius (or at least, above average), I saw 2 packages of lamb blade chops. That was close enough to genius as far as I was concerned and I headed home to make something above average for dinner. I marinated them in red onion, rosemary, red wine vinegar, garlic and olive oil for about an hour or so, grilled them on the stove top in my grill pan (another seriously good idea) and put a generous dollop of Salsa di Parmigiano on the chops. It was definitely an above average dinner.

Salsa di ParmigianoAdapted From Michael Chiarello

1/2 pound Parmesan
1/2 pound Asiago cheese
1/4 cup red onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic
2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, chopped
2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
1 to 1 1/2 cups extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt to taste

Preparation
Remove any rind from the cheeses and chop the cheeses into rough 1-inch chunks. Pulse the cheeses, red onion and garlic in a food processor until reduced to a fine, pea-sized gravel. Transfer this mixture to a bowl and stir in the rosemary.

Add the red pepper flakes, 1 cup of the olive oil and black pepper. Stir.  If mixture seems dry, add more olive oil by the 1/4 cup. Taste and add salt if you think it needs it ( I added 1 tbsp of Maldon sea salt). Cover and let stand at room temperature for at least 4 hours before using.

What I've Been Drinking

2009 Domaine de la Chanteleuserie Bourgueil Cuvee Alouettes Cabernet Franc

Cabernet Franc is often overlooked in a world of jammy, fruit bomb wines. It's definitely austere but once it opens up, the pure earthy spice and nuanced layers of fruit, minerals and herbal notes make it a wine to remember. This is another Kermit Lynch wine and I swear, I have yet to meet a Kermit wine I don't like. The Boucard family has been making wine in the Loire valley for seven generations and this wine reflects that life long connection to the vineyard. It has a strong vegetal nose and needs a little time to gather itself in the glass but once it does, it's spicy with good fruitiness and mild tannins. It's my Dorothy Parker wine— comes out swinging but eventually embraces it's complexity and really shines in the glass.

2010 Alchemist Pinot Noir

Where do I start with my love of Pinot Noir? I love the gamey, wet dog aromas, the rich, almost velvety, texture with gorgeous flavors of raspberries and spice. I went to visit my friend, Joanne, who owns Bayfield Wine and Spirits and there it was, a bottle of Alchemist just waiting to come home with me. The Alchemist is a full-bodied Pinot, loaded with red fruits, mocha, earthy spices and a touch of oak. It's a well structured wine with a lengthy finish and a silky texture— seriously good stuff. I went back for another bottle the next day.

2010 If You See Kay Cabernet Blend

Look at that label, it's like something out Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (remember Tina Turner's outfit and hair??). This is a bad ass wine with a sweet soul and I like it. It's primarily Cabernet with a little Petit Verdot and Primitivo thrown in for good measure from the Lazio region of Italy. I wouldn't have guessed there was a hint of Cabernet in the bottle when I had my first sip, it's definitely on the sweeter side and has very little acidity or tannins. It does have a big, jammy aroma, ripe berries and dried plums on the palate and a soft finish. It's not a complex wine with something to prove, it's an easy drinking wine good for an evening when you want to keep it simple but a little spicy.

2010 Caprazo Sangiovese Toscano

This is another wine from Bayfield Wine & Spirits and it's a good one. The Caparzo is a blend of Sangiovese, Merlot, Petit Verdot and Alicante with a solid texture, firm structure and bright acidity. There are a lot of juicy flavors on the palate: raspberries, ripe cherries, vanilla, fennel and roasted herbs. The acidity and firm texture balances the jammy, ripe fruit flavors exceptionally well; it would really shine when paired with roasted meats or salumi.

2011 Orin Swift The Prisoner Zinfandel Blend

I had my first bottle of The Prisoner in 2006 and I was blown away. Lucky for me, even though Dave Phinny sold the label to Huneeus Vintners in 2010, I have yet to open a bottle of Prisoner and not be happy. It's a sophisticated California field blend with an emphasis on Zinfandel— lots of big fruit. The 2011 vintage is a blend of Zinfandel, Cabernet, Syrah, Petite Sirah, Charbono and Grenache and it's a powerhouse. It's a soft and round wine with a full body and enough acidity and structure to balance the plethora of fruit and savory flavors. Bayfield Wine and Spirits has a few bottles left and it's worth every penny, trust me.

2005 Michael David Winery Petite Petit

I buy some of my wine from Marketview Liquor and saw this wine on their website while I was looking for the If You See Kay wine. Unfortunately, it was too cold to ship the wine and I put it out of my mind, until I walked in Star Liquor and was wandering among the wine bottles (it's hard to miss a garishly colored label with two enormous elephants on it). I put two bottles in my basket, thanked Kevin for his wise wine procurement and headed back home to find my corkscrew. It's a blend of 85% Petite Sirah and 15% Petit Verdot from Lodi, California and since Petite Sirah is one of my favorite grapes, I was really excited to try it. This wine did not disappoint— it's beautifully balanced, relatively complex with lots of dark fruit, chocolate and smoky spice with a lush, round finish.

2009 Sotorrondero Bodegas Jimenz Landi Syrah Blend

This Spanish wine is a blend of 85% Syrah and 15% Granacha— two grapes that go together like peanut butter and jelly, hollandaise and crab cakes or lemon curd and shortbread cookies. It's another powerhouse of wine— full of ripe fruit, smoke and a hint of gamey meat. It's a nicely balanced, full-bodied and rich wine with a smooth texture and a long finish. Wine Advocate gave the 2009 Sotorrondero 92 points and I have to agree— if you like rich, assertive Syrah, I think you'll agree as well. It's available at Bayfield Wine and Spirits, can you tell Joanne and I have very similar wine palates??

2009 Bogle Vineyards Essential Red Blend

There's nothing too terribly special about this Bogle wine other than it's a decently complex wine that's easy to drink and a great value. I struggle with finding 'everyday' wines and this one was a pleasant surprise from Star Liquor.  It's a blend of old vines Zinfandel, Petite Sirah, Syrah and Cabernet— it tastes kind of like the younger sibling of Bogle Phantom (a terribly special wine). The predominant flavors of ripe berries, molasses, vanilla, a little oak and spice are nicely complimented by a medium body and a rich fig and prune flavored finish. I was frankly surprised by the quality of this wine and I'm thrilled to have an 'everyday' wine that I truly will enjoy drinking.

An Afternoon On Skis

Tripping over Joy
Hafiz

What is the difference
Between your experience of Existence
And that of a saint?

The saint knows
That the spiritual path
Is a sublime chess game with God

And that the Beloved
Has just made such a Fantastic Move

That the saint is now continually
Tripping over Joy
And bursting out in Laughter
And saying, “I Surrender!”

Whereas, my dear,
I am afraid you still think
You have a thousand serious moves.

Tripping over joy (and my skis) was a pretty good description of our afternoon at Mt Ashwabay. Ted and I rented cross-country skis and took off for parts unknown on Saturday. Actually, I knew exactly where I wanted to go but had forgotten a) how far it was and b) how many hills were involved in getting there and back. There was a stump on Black Bear Cutoff near a particularly primal part of the forest I wanted to visit. I met it three years ago (on my first too long and too many hills cross-country ski adventure with the kids) and I've never forgotten it. A picture of that beautifully decorated stump with its snowy cap would remind me of an afternoon spent with snowflakes drifting down through the trees on our little ski caravan. Little did I know this trip with Ted would burn about 8,000 calories, require serious foot/hand coordination and provide us precious time to talk, laugh and marvel at the beauty surrounding us.

I'm pretty new to the whole cross-country skiing scene and going down hills proved to be problematic. Flying down a hill, in tracks with skis on, is not a good idea for me so I spent a lot of time taking off my skis, walking down the hill and then putting my skis back on. As I've mentioned before, I have less than stellar eye/hand/foot coordination and putting the skis back on was no small feat, thank God we weren't in the Birkie. Ted, on the other hand, is a fan of flying down the hills and spent a lot of time waiting for me. Luckily, he always had a smile on his face and some kind words of encouragement when I caught up with him. In between all the hills and ski removal activities, it was pure joy to ski together. Isn't it funny how joy is so much more accessible when you're not planning any one of 'a thousand serious moves' and just experience what's always around and within you?

Another Beefy Adventure With Marrow

Beef marrow in January, kind of counter intuitive, right? Not for me. Turning the page on the calendar into a new year has never meant turning my back on the foods I've met and enjoyed over the past year. This year, that list included farro, green smoothies, artisan butter from Eau Claire and bone marrow. Variety is not only the spice of life, it's the key to dietary happiness for this girl. I just need to make sure there are more green smoothies than butter and beef— sounds thoroughly reasonable to me. I wonder how many kale and collard smoothies I need to drink to balance out stuffed bone marrow? I guess it's a good thing I like green smoothies.

Back to tale of the marrow and mushrooms. I've stuffed pumpkins, chickens, clams— why not add bone marrow to the list? I settled on mushrooms, garlic and red onions as a good place to start for my first foray into bone stuffing. It was everything I hoped for— savory compound beefy butter in a bone. The family is still not completely on the marrow train, they aren't on the green smoothie train either, but they are coming around (slowly). A plate of bones won't hit the Dougherty dinner table more than every couple of months but when it does, it's a dinner I can't wait to tuck into.

Beef Marrow & Mushrooms

4 beef bones, 3 0r 4 inches long
2 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1/4 cup red onion, chopped
1 cup cremini mushrooms, chopped
1/8 cup Parmesan cheese, grated
Maldon salt and coarsely ground pepper

Preparation
Rinse and dry the bones. Heat the olive oil in a sauté pan over medium heat and add the onions and mushrooms, sauté for about 8 - 10 minutes or until the vegetables are softened. Add the garlic and sauté for another 2 minutes. Remove the vegetables from sauté pan and cool completely in the refrigerator. Scrape or push out as much of the marrow as possible and chop it up into bite size pieces. Add the cooled vegetables, shredded parmesan and thoroughly combine. Stuff the bones with the marrow/vegetable mixture, season with salt and pepper and place in the refrigerator for at least an hour. You want the filling to be as cold as possible before you place it in the oven (to avoid having it cook too quickly and completely render).

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place the bones in a roasting pan and roast for about 15 minutes. Begin checking the bones at 10 minutes and pull them out when the marrow starts to bubble and the tops are getting brown. If they cook them too long, you'll end up with a pan full of empty bones swimming in a pool of rendered beef fat.  Serve immediately with lemon slices, parsley salad or a few salted capers on slices of toasted baguette.

Asparagus & Anchovies

Anchovies and asparagus, who knew? They are a match made in little fishy heaven and the combination takes plain old asparagus to a new level of fancy schmancy. Since I'm wholeheartedly embracing vegetables, it's good to have a flavorful butter sauce to ease the transition from eating meat and poultry with wild abandon to practicing a little restraint and filling my plate with vegetables. I've decided I'm a devout omnivore and that includes things like pâté, Fromage d'Affinois and roasted duck with a reduced port sauce— just not every day. In fact, I made my very first foray into black bean burger land tonight and while my recipe needs a little work before I pass it on to you, it wasn't that bad. Maybe I need to add a few anchovies (and butter).

Alongside the 45 types of mustards, pickles and Thai fish sauce in the fridge, there's always a little jar of anchovies in olive oil— they're my secret ingredient in stews, salad dressings and sauces. I'm telling you, for such a little fish, they pack a big punch and when they mingle with white wine, capers and butter— it's a good thing.

Asparagus With Anchovy Butter

1 bunch fresh asparagus, washed and ends trimmed
4 tbsp butter
3/4 cup dry white wine
4 anchovies in olive oil, chopped
1 garlic clove, minced 2 tbsp shallots, minced
2 tbsp Italian parsley, chopped
1 tbsp capers
2 tbsp pine nuts, toasted
4 tbsp Parmesan cheese
Maldon sea salt and pepper

Trim asparagus stalks to the same length, cook 3-4 minutes in salted boiling water until cooked but still crispy. Drain on a towel.

Add the white wine, shallots, garlic and parsley to a medium sauce pan, simmer until the wine is reduced by half. Whisk in the butter until melted, add the anchovies and capers, stir to combine. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper, if necessary. Place the asparagus on a platter, pour the butter sauce over the asparagus and garnish with Parmesan and pine nuts. Serve immediately.

Christmas Day Photo Safari

We took a Christmas photo safari this year, a first but I suspect it's going to become a tradition. Kind of like the Jimmy Dean sausage strata for brunch, opening one present on Christmas Eve and prime rib for Christmas dinner. It started to snow midway through our safari, those huge flakes that meander and float on their way down. It looked like we were inside a snow globe, absolutely perfect.

Charlie struck a mischievous pose on the first leg of our adventure. He was cold and decided photo bombing the pictures was a good way to make sure we got back into the car. It worked. We warmed up on the way to Little Sand Bay— I wanted to visit the lake on Christmas Day.

The icicles were magnificent— the rocks and picnic tables were encased in frozen tusks of Lake Superior's water.

It was a monochromatic but austerely beautiful day. We weren't there for long, it was windy and cold, but it was enough to reconnect with the lake that has become an integral part of my life. It was my favorite gift of 2012.

Pork Pot Stickers- A Good Way To Start 2013

What's not to like about a pleated package of pork with a crunchy, almost burned bottom? Add a salty dipping sauce and I'm a happy camper. When we were knee deep in our development of a Bayfield outpost of Chinese take-out, I had pot stickers on my list of 'things to figure out'. My eye hand coordination is shaky at best and utterly pathetic at worst. Maybe it's because I only played Pong as a kid or because I need to admit I'm over forty and get glasses but making those little pleats proved to be problematic, at first. After I watched a couple You Tube videos, it finally sunk in and now it's like riding a bike— I'll never forget it.

You can put whatever you want in the filling, we chose pork because it's traditional and we are a porky kind of family. You want to make sure the filling (pork or not) is highly seasoned and lucky for us, Chinese food has a wide array of choices: garlic, soy sauce, ginger, oyster sauce and toasted sesame oil. Don't skip seasoning the cabbage with salt and then wringing out as much of the moisture as possible— cabbage gives off a lot of moisture when it's cooked and will make your pot stickers soggy. One last tip, don't over fill the wrappers, it'll make it really, really hard to get your pleats to stick. I made a double batch and then froze them for another day when I have a hankering for a little Chinese take-in.

Pork Pot Stickers(Adapted from Ming Tsai & Epicurious.com)

2 cups finely shredded green cabbage
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus 1/8 teaspoon for seasoning
1/3 pound ground pork (not too lean)
1/2 cup shiitake mushrooms, finely chopped
1 tbsp fresh ginger, minced
2 tbsp coarsely shredded carrot
3 tbsp shallots, minced
2 scallions, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced (about 2 teaspoons)
1 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tbsp soy sauce
2 teaspoons Asian (toasted) sesame oil
1/2 egg, lightly beaten
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
30 gyoza (pot sticker) wrappers, from 1 (14-ounce) package*
1/4 cup canola oil

In large bowl, toss together cabbage and 3/4 teaspoon salt and set aside for 30 minutes. Transfer to clean dish towel or cheesecloth, gather ends together, and twist to squeeze out as much water as possible. Wipe bowl clean, then return cabbage to it. Add pork, mushrooms, ginger, carrots, shallots, scallions and garlic and stir to combine.

In small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, oyster sauce, sesame oil, and egg, then stir into cabbage-pork mixture. Stir in pepper and remaining 1/8 teaspoon salt.

On dry surface, lay out 1 gyoza wrapper, keeping remaining wrappers covered with dampened cloth or paper towel. Spoon 1 1/2 teaspoons filling into center, then moisten halfway around edge with wet finger. Fold moisture-free half of wrapper over moistened half to form open half-moon shape. To seal, using thumb and forefinger of one hand, form 6 tiny pleats along unmoistened edge of wrapper, pressing pleats against moistened border to enclose filling. Moistened border will stay smooth and will automatically curve in semicircle. Stand dumpling, seam-side up, on baking sheet and gently press to flatten bottom. Cover loosely with dampened cloth or paper towel. Form remaining dumplings in same manner.

In 10-inch, lidded, non-stick skillet over moderately high heat, heat oil until hot but not smoking, then remove from heat and arrange pot stickers in tight circular pattern standing up in oil (they should touch one another). Cook, uncovered, until bottoms are pale golden, 2 to 3 minutes. Add 1/2 cup water, tilting skillet to distribute, then cover tightly with lid and cook until liquid has evaporated and bottoms of dumplings are crisp and golden, 7 to 10 minutes. Add 2 tablespoons more water if skillet looks dry before bottoms are browned. Remove lid and cook, shaking skillet to loosen pot stickers, until steam dissipates, 1 to 2 minutes. Invert large plate with rim over skillet. Using pot holders, hold plate and skillet together and invert skillet. Remove skillet and serve pot stickers warm.

December 31st, 2012

It was a good last day of 2012. We did it all: skiing, hiking, warming up in the hot tub and sauna, sending wish lanterns into the night sky, eating, drinking and making merry. Since the moon was void of course, we decided it would be best to hold off on any declarations of intentions until today after 11:30— it freed up a lot of time for additional eating, drinking and merriment. It was a record for me, dinner didn't hit the table until 10:52. At least it wasn't 11 o'clock, that's way too late for dinner. On the upside, we were all wide awake and full when we headed outside to light the wish lanterns in the sub-zero temperatures.

I know I've said it before but, isn't George such a handsome dog?? He had a blast running up and down the sugarbush trail and struck this pose as were headed back to the ski hill. I think in a previous life, he was definitely a movie star.

Meg is a fearless  and joyful skier (unlike her mother), she literally had a smile on her face the whole way down the hill. I can't believe how competent she has become in just a few short years.

Of course, we had sparkling wine and Rack and Riddle Blanc de Noirs is one of my favorites. It's made from primarily Pinot Noir grapes and is the most beautiful color of pink. It's more subtle (like French champagne) than most moderately priced California sparkling wine I've tasted— it's nicely balanced with citrusy and subtle wild strawberry flavors.

I was at Andy's buying snacks for the kids and saw Old Dutch puff corn was on sale. I knew exactly what to do— make a heap of caramel corn and try to restrain myself from eating the whole pile (good practice for the dietary austerity measures headed my way in 2013). While it's not the most fancy caramel corn I've eaten, it's got everything I need: sweet, salty and crunchy. I sprinkled a little Maldon sea salt on the caramel corn as it was cooling— nothing like gilding the lily, right? If your 2013 dietary plan allows some room for caramel corn, here's the recipe (link here), it's seriously good stuff.

After dinner, we bundled up and went outside to send off five (not four, I'm not a fan of even numbers) wish lanterns to welcome 2013. We couldn't have asked for a better night— it was calm, the moon was shining brightly and the stars were blanketing the night sky. At midnight, amid the fireworks a neighbor set off, a pack of coyotes welcomed in the new year with yips and howls, it was pure magic. Of course, I put the dogs inside after the serenade was over, better safe than sorry with my wild life unsavvy pack.

2012 taught me a number of lessons but the most powerful one, and one I'm carrying into 2013, was mindfulness (and conversely, mindlessness). I've learned to let what needs to go, go and to allow what needs to come in, come in. Sounds pretty simple but turning off my monkey brain has been, and continues to be, a challenge. Those moments when I'm taking my own advice and truly existing only in the present moment are enough to inspire me to keep practicing.

When I hiked to the sugarbush yesterday morning, I practiced listening to the trees, hearing the wind and watching George joyfully bound up and down the trail. It amazed me how easy it was to become an open conduit for contentment when I kept my focus soft, listened to the quiet voice inside me and felt the blessings of my life. 2013 holds such promise and I can't wait to see where it takes me.

As usual, Mary Oliver had just the right words for my hopes for 2013. She had a dog named Percy and she asked him the simple question, 'how should I live my life'? Of course, a dog would know just what to say.

I Ask Percy How I Should Live My LifeMary Oliver

Love, love, love, says Percy. And hurry as fast as you can along the shining beach, or the rubble, or the dust.

Then, go to sleep. Give up your body heat, your beating heart. Then, trust.

Pancetta & Asian Pear Tartlets

Are you casting about for an idea of a suitable appetizer to mark the end of 2012? Look no further, these little tartlets are full of flavor, beautiful to behold and easy to pull together. You can substitute pears or apples for the Asian pears I used— the key is just a little sweet fruit to play off the gorgonzola and pancetta. I drizzled honey on the top of the tartlets and while I couldn't necessarily pinpoint the honey flavor, it added a cohesive, glazed texture to the melted gorgonzola.

We are headed out to Ashwabay for the afternoon— Ted and the kids are skiing and George and I are walking out to the Nourse sugarbush. Tonight, I'm repurposing my Christmas prime rib as stroganoff, making a batch of fried chicken for the kids and I think there will be a few glasses of Rack & Riddle Blanc de Noirs sparkling wine in my immediate future. What a gift to spend the last day, of what has been a transformative year, with the people and dogs I adore beyond words. I hope your day and evening are full of whomever and whatever you hold dear.

Pancetta & Pear Tartlets

1 package of puff pastry, thawed
1/4 pound of pancetta, diced
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
1 Asian pear, thinly sliced
1/2 cup parmesan cheese, shredded
1/2 cup gorgonzola, crumbled
2 tbsp butter, room temperature
Honey
Maldon salt and cracked pepper, to taste

Preparation
Preheat oven to 400 degrees and butter the tartlet pans. Unfold a sheet of puff pastry on a lightly floured surface and roll out until it's about 1/4 inch thick. Cut the pastry into individual rounds large enough to fit into your tartlet pans (mine are about 4 1/2 inches in diameter) and place in the buttered pans.

Divide and sprinkle the parmesan between the tartlet pans. Divide and place the sliced pears, onions, pancetta and gorgonzola in each pan and then drizzle with honey and season with salt and pepper. Cook for about 15 minutes or until golden brown and puffed. Remove from the pans and either serve immediately while warm or at room temperature. Makes five 4 1/2 inch tartlets.

What Happens When The Moon Doesn't Cooperate?

You get a decent shot of a windswept fishing boat in the harbor. I was on my way to feed Gen's horses when the full yellow moon caught my eye. I turned around to get my camera and headed to the lake to get a picture (I figured the horses wouldn't mind a dinner delay if it was for a good cause). I was feeling a little cocky about my moon picture-taking prowess and thought, f/11 and 1/250 was the magic ticket. Wrong-o. Maybe it was too windy, the moon was rising too fast or that it was 30 degrees below zero and I didn't have a hat or gloves on but I ended up with this less than stellar lunar image on the right. I captured the image on the left about 20 minutes later, as I was headed home after apologizing to the herd and promising to only take pictures after they've eaten. Room for growth is a good thing, right?

Cherrystone Clams & Chorizo

It was a fruitful trip to Duluth—fresh Cherrystone clams from the grocery store and chorizo from Northern Waters Smokehaus. About once a month I head to Duluth to stock up on things I can't get around here: anything and everything from the Smokehaus, good butter from Mount Royal, shampoo and cocktail napkins from T J Maxx and my favorite soap from Waters of Superior. On this particular excursion to the big city, I was on a mission to find crab legs and stumbled upon these beautiful and sturdy looking clams in the seafood department. They went right into my cart and by the time I hit the checkout, I realized— short of chowder, what on earth was I going to do with 6 pounds of clams?

As luck would have it (since this was an excursion), I had 1 1/2 hours to think about it on my way back to Bayfield. At about the Brule River, I thought stuffing the clams seemed like the right direction to take— it most likely would benefit from butter and wine, it was easy and I have a family who will eat most anything (even clams) if there is some sort of sausage involved. I have to admit, I wasn't sure how it was all going to play out but I suspected it was going to be worth eating. Turns out, not only was it worth eating, those stuffed clams were seriously pretty— some of the shells had the most beautiful, deep purple edge.

Cherrystone Clams Stuffed With Chorizo (Adapted From Monahan's Seafood Market)

8 Cherrystone clams
2 tbsp butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 stalk celery, chopped
2 tbsp onion, chopped
4 tbsp parsley, minced
2 tbsp basil, minced
1 tbsp oregano, minced
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1/2 of a red pepper, chopped
5 tbsp Parmesan, grated
1 1/2 c (or so) bread crumbs
1 egg, lightly beaten
4 ounces chorizo, chopped
Salt and pepper, to taste

Preparation
Steam clams in 1/4–1/2 inch of water until they just begin to open. Remove meats and save the shells. Finely chop the clam meats and set aside.

Place the butter in a large sauté pan and heat until the butter is foaming over medium high heat. Sauté chorizo, celery, garlic, onion, herbs and red pepper until chorizo is cooked and the vegetables are softened. Add the wine and continue to cook for another couple of minutes. Combine in mixing bowl with chopped clams, parmesan, lemon, egg and mix in the bread crumbs until the mix holds together in a ball in your hand. Taste for seasoning and stuff the 8 shells. Bake at 375° for about 10–12 minutes or until nicely browned. Serve immediately.