Frenetic versus Tranquil...


Things have completely settled down from the holiday-ness of the holidays and with the work rush that also comes with the holidays. Mom has arrived safe and sound back in Richmond, and is getting herself all settled there. I’ve been waiting for this. At least I’ve said that I have been waiting for this. But it’s so quiet. It’s so calm. It’s so rarely so, that I always forget that I’m not all that great with calm and quiet. I’m not a very still person. Frenetic might be a better word to describe me. I generally like to keep moving and doing. I always have lists and projects. I’m lost without them.

Now, I do realize that this is not exactly a good thing. I also realize it drives Fred crazy.
I’ve never claimed to be a walk in the park.

So imagine my delight when I received a project in the mail last week - my pals up at Columbus Salame sent me a sample of their Finocchiona, which had just won big at the 2013 Good Food Awards for best charcuterie! What to do, what to do...

At first I thought maybe a mac ‘n cheese carbonara of sorts, substituting the salumi for the bacon. But I’m (lamentably) really, really trying not to eat that kind of food right this minute. Sad, but true. Then, after a couple more days of research, I discovered an Italian bread called Casatiello, which is stuffed with salami, provolone, olives and what not. Fred and I tried twice and failed miserably. Miserably. I emailed the recipe to Mom to see if she could impart some sage advice, some help, from across the country. She basically told me this was clearly a varsity level baking recipe and to consider something else.

Gee, thanks, Mom.

This brings us to last night. I was planning on cooking a brick chicken and using up as much produce as possible from last Sunday’s farmers’ market haul. When I unearthed the tiny, purple Brussels sprouts that I had almost forgotten about, I knew something was stirring. And then Fred figured it all out.

So because of this one, little package that fortuitously arrived in the mail, I suddenly had an entire week of a mission, a project, and with it I had fun, research, frustration, failure and finally, success. And all in the kitchen. Just like I like it.

The meal that we had last night was a brick chicken with a chervil-parsley pan sauce, smashed & crisped baby potato medley with garlic & rosemary and roasted purple Brussels sprouts with salami and pine nuts. And it was all very, very good.

So, now what...





Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Salami


serves 2 as a side dish




Ingredients
2 1/2 cups brussels sprouts, trimmed and quartered
5 slices salami, chopped
1 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp bacon drippings (or butter)Coarse salt & pepper
¼ cup pine nuts
grated Parmesan cheese


Directions

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Place cast iron, or oven safe dish on middle rack in oven until hot, hot, hot.

Combine the Brussels sprouts, salami, bacon drippings (or butter), salt and pepper in a bowl and mix well.

When oven is preheated and cast iron is hot, hot, hot, add mixture Brussels sprouts mixture. 

Place in oven and cook for 30-40 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes, until  Brussels sprouts are slightly browned and cooked through.

Garnish with Parmesan and pine nuts.


Printable recipe.


One year ago: Chicken with 40 Cloves of Garlic
Two years ago: Mercantile
Three years ago: Swiss Fondue with Truffle Essence
Five years ago: The Hungry Cay - Santa Barbara


Cognizance.


In our lives, when an era passes, we are not usually cognizant of its immediate occurance. We usually reflect and are then able to qualify the beginnings and endings of these eras. Most of the time. I think.

I mean, I recall leaving for college which, in hindsight, was a clear end-of-one-era-beginning-of-another time. But all I can remember thinking is ‘get me the hell outa here.’ I’m sure for my parents it was a different feeling entirely. I imagine for them it was very bittersweet - very sad, very relieved (“We kept her alive this long, and now it’s up to her!”) and very, very aware that nothing would ever be the same again. I can’t really think of any moment in my past where I was that present and aware of that moment happening at the moment. Not even when I have fallen in love or gone through a break up. Even then I’m just feeling what’s happening at that time. I don’t think I ever recognized it as a beginning or an end of a part of my life.

And then yesterday happened. My mom moved away. And as the weeks, days, hours and minutes approached that led up to the goodbye hug, curbside at LAX, I was enormously aware, painfully cogni
zant that something very big was happening - something bittersweet. The end of an era. And as Fred drove me home from the airport, I cried. But when he asked me what I was feeling I realized it was not so simple to answer. I was sad, yes. But I was also happy, relieved, comforted and confident that it was the very best thing. I maybe kind of even felt a little bit like she did when we hugged goodbye before I drove away to college. Maybe?

While my mom and I have always been close, and no one could ever deny that the woman is an incredible mom, an amazing nurturer, the queen of positive reinforcement and encouragement, we have definitely had our struggles with each other.

I think it all started when I was about thirteen. I was going through puberty right about the time she started to go through menopause. Talk about a hormone extravaganza. And two women at opposite ends of the hormone extravaganza spectrum. Double yikes. And you know, mom wanted to, like, mother me so much, and Dad, Dad was always so chill. I could get away with anything at Dad’s house. You get the idea...

 


Mom and I have always talked on the phone a ton, visited each other regularly and all the normal stuff. But we have always bickered. When she moved out here I realized that we had not spent so much physical time around one another since I moved away to college. When I was eighteen.

And so, for the first three of the four years she lived here, in The City of Angels, we treated each other like anything but angels. Everyone from my friends to my Dad had to either listen to us bicker or listen to one of us talk about it. We made each other, and everyone around us, crazy, mad, sad, and exasperated. And tired. Ourselves included.

And then, about a year ago, the tide changed. I don’t know what happened, I really don’t. But we have been closer than I can ever recall. We talk (too) many times a day, run errands together, cook together, cry together, share our laughter and fears, all of it. And then she left. And I wanted her to. She needed to. And though I’m sad and all the other stuff I already said, I am so happy to know that in the time she was living out here we fixed it. We fixed us. And now we have a truly enviable mother-daughter relationship. And I already miss her so much. And I’m so glad I do.

The week before she left, she practically lived with me and Fred. And during that time we cooked a lot of food. As I’ve mentioned many times, we have very different kitchen super powers. For instance, she can bake. So this last week we made a lot of things that I normally shy away from: banana/rum/pecan bread, a honey-lemon tart with salted shortbread crust, granola, and bagels. She has been making her own bagels since forever and they are really good - crisp and lightly brown on the outside and dense and chewy on the inside. They are extraordinary when eaten within a couple of hours of coming out of the oven. By the next day they are mostly only good as anvils or anchors for large ships.

So she showed me how to make them. The funny thing is, she made the bagels while I merely kneaded the dough for about thirty-eight seconds. And even though she made them, she told everyone how proud of me she was because I did such a good job on my very first bagels. That is so Mom.


And here is how to make her bagels.


Bagels
Yield 8 medium-sized bagels

Ingredients:
2 teaspoons of active dry yeast
1 heaping tablespoon of brown sugar
1 cups of very warm water (you may need ± ¼ cup more)
3 ½ cups of bread flour or high gluten flour (will need extra for kneading)
1 ½ teaspoons of salt

1 eggwhite
Cornmeal

Optional Toppings:
Coarse salt, minced fresh garlic, minced fresh onion, poppy seeds, or sesame seeds. 

Preparation:
In 1 cup of the warm water, stir in the sugar and yeast. Let it sit for five minutes, until frothy.
Add flour and salt.
On a floured countertop, knead the dough for about 10 minutes until it is smooth and elastic. 
Roll the dough into a tubular shape and cover with damp dish towel. Let rise in a warm place for 30 minutes.
Carefully divide the dough into 8 pieces. Shape each piece into a round. Now, take a dough ball, and press it gently against the countertop (or whatever work surface you’re using) moving your hand and the ball in a circular motion pulling the dough into itself while reducing the pressure on top of the dough slightly until a perfect dough ball forms. Repeat with 7 other dough rounds.
Coat a finger in flour, and gently press your finger into the center of each dough ball to form a ring. Stretch the ring to about the diameter of the bagel and place on a lightly oiled cookie sheet. Repeat the same step with the remaining dough.
After shaping the dough rounds and placing them on the cookie sheet, cover with a damp kitchen towel and allow to rest for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 375f.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Reduce the heat. Use a slotted spoon or skimmer to lower the bagels into the water, 2-3 at a time.. Keep them in for 20 seconds on each side.
If you want to top your bagels with stuff, do so as you take them out of the water, you may use the “optional toppings” (listed above) to top the bagels, but before hand, you will need to use an egg wash to get the toppings to stick before putting the bagels into the oven.
Once all the bagels have boiled, give them a light egg wash (and have been topped with your choice of toppings), transfer them to a lightly oiled baking sheet that has been dusted with cornmeal.
Bake for 30 minutes, until golden brown.
Cool on a wire rack. 


One year ago: Cheebo
Three years ago: Chicken Pot Pie
Five years ago: Oyster Stew

Ready, Set, Go.


2013.
Here it is.
I’m ready.

I stopped making New Year’s resolutions a long time ago. I don’t make too many finite rules for myself, in general. I hate fooling myself or disappointing myself. Making decrees that seem unrealistic for the long term and then breaking those rules as a result is, I think, an unhealthy practice. There are, however, broad, general, obtuse sorts of things I’d like to see more or less of at the start of each year.

I’d like to get more exercise (but I really hate exercise).
I’d like to want to exercise more.
I’d like to drink more water, and perhaps a skosh less wine.
I’d like to read and write more.
I’d like to see more movies in theaters.
I’d like to push myself more in the kitchen.
I’d like to travel more.
I’d like to see myself save some money.
I’d like to stay in better touch with friends and family that I don’t get to see often/ever.
I’d like that to mean that I will send cards and write letters.
I’d like to be calmer and more flowy, in general.

Most of these things seem reasonable enough. The exercise one is questionable. So is the wine one. And the calm and flowy. We’ll see.

One of the things Fred and I have been doing in the kitchen lately is play sort of a Chopped game with our approach to dinner. I’ll pick three to five seemingly disparate items (usually things in the refrigerator that need to get used for fear of waste) and putting together a complete meal with them. One night it was duck breast, savoy cabbage, rice leftover from Chinese food delivery and sausage. Fred made seared duck breast over a fried rice with sausage and cabbage that was extraordinary.

Another time the items were salmon, coconut milk, scallions, avocado and parsley. We marinated the salmon in coconut milk, pan roasted it and topped it with a avocado-parsley cream. It’s fun, challenging and ensures very little goes into the trash bin/compost that we don’t have.

Last night the items were a leek, a potato, buttermilk, sour cream and some fennel from the garden. All of the items save for the fennel were on the brink of getting tossed. As I looked over the items for my challenge it was so very obvious. Soup. Plus, I could finally get a chance to use my Christmas present from Fred; my new Vitamix blender (!). He had used it the night before making the parsley-avocado cream, but I had not messed with it, yet. Perfecto.

As I tossed the chopped leek into the melted butter, the idea fully came together; I was going to make a buttermilk vichyssoise with fennel. When I got to the part where I dumped everything into the blender - hot - I was scared and excited. It did not explode hot liquid all over me and it even managed to fully blend the fennel fronds. In less than thirty seconds I had a silky smooth, velvety, perfectly pureed, beautiful, perky bright green soup.

I’ve said it many times here, but soup really is my favorite thing to make. It can be as comforting, elegant, rustic, hearty, simple, complex, delicate, chunky, smooth, hot, cold, big or little as you want it to be. It goes with every meal and every season. And the garnish is always so fun to decide. It’s like that hat or scarf that just makes the outfit.

This soup, a vichyssoise, is kind of all of those things: simple yet complex, delicate yet hearty, elegant yet rustic. It can even be served hot or cold. This soup calls for any manner of garnishes. Chives , creme fraiche, a simple buttery crouton, or maybe you want to really dress it up - with a sliver of smoked salmon and a small dollop of caviar. Now that really makes the outfit.

I guess with my new kitchen toy I am accomplishing at least one of the things I’d like to see more of in 2013 - I am pushing myself more in the kitchen already. If this soup didn’t go so perfectly with any number of white wines I might be able to start accomplishing another one of the things on that list...




  • Buttermilk Vichyssoise with Fennel

  • Serves 6

Ingredients

  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1 leek, white and light-green parts only, halved lengthwise then thinly sliced into half-moons, washed well and drained
  • 1 large white potato, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 3 1/2 cups chicken stock
  • 1 cup chopped fennel bulb & fronds
  • Coarse salt and freshly ground white pepper
  • 2 cups buttermilk
  • 1/2 cup creme fraiche
  • Smoked salmon and caviar (for garnish)

Directions

Melt butter in a stockpot over medium-low heat. 
Add leek, and cook, covered, until tender, about 15 minutes.
Add potatoes and stock. Bring to a boil; simmer until potatoes are tender, about 20 minutes. Stir in fennel and cook for about 5-7 more minutes.
Working in batches, puree soup in a blender until smooth. Transfer pureed soup to a large bowl. 
Season with salt and white pepper. Stir in sour cream and buttermilk just before serving. Adjust seasoning as needed. 
If necessary, thin the soup with a bit more chicken stock or water to achieve desired consistency. 
Garnish with a sliver of smoked salmon and a tiny drop of caviar.
May be served hot or cold. 


Printable recipe.


One year ago: Cheebo
Two years ago: Vinegar-Braised Chicken with Garlic & Celery Leaves
Three years ago: Carrot Soup with Ginger & Cumin
FIVE years ago: Dominick's