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April 15, 2006 – Play With Your Food

Necessity is not always the mother of invention. Sometimes, invention is done just for the pure, gosh-darn fun of it.

But, imitation is almost always a form of flattery - if not always the sincerest form of flattery.
And where am I going here? I’m talking about play, creativity, and inventiveness - in this case, with food.

One can be playful, creative and inventive with many mediums– be it physical things, verbal things, mathematical things, ideological things, or whatever. First, it usually takes some minimum amount of skill. Then it takes some ability to walk away from the instructions or the rules and build your own whatever. Me? Where I’m best is in the kitchen. Not that I’m a master. Far from it. But, I get a great deal of joy from playing in the kitchen and that’s really what it’s all about. It’s just another avenue for achieving mastery and another palette for artistic endeavor.

So here’s some things I do for fun. Maybe, you want to try them too. Think of it as play, not work.

• When I go to a restaurant and have something I really love, I think about what it was that made this item as good as it was. Was it the ingredients? Was there something new or surprising in it? Did it include a particular something of superb quality that made all the difference? Was there something particularly important about how it was cooked? Possibly a combination of all. So, I go home and try to re-create it.
  
  
• Sometimes I go to a higher-end store or proprietor and buy some ingredients that are outside of my usual norm. Perhaps a little more expensive than my usual norm. Maybe something I can’t find elsewhere. Maybe I’ve read about them. Maybe they were recommended by the proprietor. Maybe I had them at that restaurant where I had that item that I’m still trying to re-create. I take them home and figure out something to do with them.
  
  
• I often go to ethnic markets and sometimes I buy things I’ve never heard of. They might even look strange or maybe even, gulp, slightly repulsive. I go home and open up the parcels. Smell them. Touch them. Taste them. Figure out what to do with them.
  
  
• I need to make something for an event, or maybe just for dinner. I go to the kitchen. Look in the pantry. Look in the refrigerator. Look in the freezer. Imagine how some of these things might go together and pull them out. I might put a bunch of things on the counter and move them around until an idea gels. I try to think of things that I haven’t tried before and maybe outside of my usual range of cooking.
  
  
• When I travel, I try out the local specialties. I search for local markets that sell regional specialties. I talk to the people who are preparing and selling these local foods. I buy things - then stuff as much as I can in my suitcase to take home to play with.
  
  
• I look at recipes, but only for general ideas. I try to analyze them as to what I think might improve them or what might, heavens, simply be wrong with them. I take what I like from a recipe, and make something different from it. Or, I take what I like from two or more recipes, combine them, and make something different with it.

These are things I do when I play with my food. Here are a few examples.

• A few weeks ago, my friend Robin and I went to the new local Asian market and bought all sorts of things we never heard of plus some other things we thought just might go together with the other things. We went home and, along with Steve, created a meal that Robin’s partner, Monica, came over and shared with us. It was great fun.
  
  
• Recently, I was able to purchase some higher-end foodstuffs through our wine guy, Bruce, via a local food wholesaler. We got Farro, jarred Piquillo peppers, prosciutto, guanciale, and pancetta - a whole bunch of stuff to play with. I had seen a recipe that cooked Farro like one would cook rice in a risotto. I used this as a model to create a new dish that included the guanciale as well. The dish we cooked was totally different from the original recipe, except that it used this technique of applying risotto-style cooking to farro. I’ve included that recipe below.
  
  
• About six months ago, I had some piquillo peppers in a restaurant stuffed with a chorizo sausage mixture. It’s not easy to find piquillo peppers in this area. They are not available fresh, at least, to the retail public. You can only find them in jars. But ever since I had them at the restaurant, I had thought about recreating this dish. When I saw that they were available from this food wholesaler, I immediately ordered them to re-create what I had at the restaurant. It was fabulous. If you see some, buy them. Stuff them with bulk chorizo and bake them. That’s all there is to it.
  
  
• When the bridge group came over to play this weekend, I recreated a sandwich I had in a restaurant about a year ago that I thought was superb. It was a just a lamb sandwich with salsa verde on whole wheat bread. Simple. But the rendition stuck in my memory. And, it turns out, if you combine perfectly cooked lamb that has been heavily seasoned with rosemary, garlic, and anchovies; along with bright-green, piquant, fresh salsa verde (compliments of Steve); with a thick slice of locally baked firm wheat bread – slab these things together and it is sublime. It’s the combination of these three ingredients that takes it to the sublime. Substitute any one of them, it would not be as great. I would not have known that without trying it.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Stuff. Tonight, we are having some of that leftover lamb in a baby spinach salad (spinach that we got from the farmer’s market today) along with some goat cheese (not from the farmer’s market because, when we talked to the vendor there, we learned that feta cheese takes several months to age and when we tasted the young goat cheese that they did have for sale, we thought that it couldn’t stand up to the aggressiveness of the lamb), along with a lemony vinaigrette and some of that whole wheat bread. It should be good.

Farro Risotto with Leeks and Guanciale
Yield: 6-8 servings

Note: Farro is a whole grain that looks like brown rice. It is related to spelt, and, when cooked, has a wonderful nutty flavor with a pleasant bite when chewed. It is a delightful grain and, plus, is very healthy. It is, however, a bit expensive so enjoy it for a treat when you use it
Guanciale is basically a bacon made from the pig’s jowl. It has a subtle, smoky flavor and, along with most pork products, makes almost anything better when included. If you don’t have it, substitute pancetta or bacon.

• 1 Tbs butter
• 1 Tbs olive oil
• ½ cup diced guanciale, pancetta or bacon
• 1 cup farro, rinsed
• 3 leeks, white and light green parts thinly sliced
• 1 carrot, scraped and diced
• ½ cup dry white wine
• 2 cups, or more, chicken or vegetable stock
• ½ cup grated parmesan
• 3 Tbs minced parsley
• Salt and pepper to taste

Melt butter and oil over medium low heat. Add the guanciale and sauté until it is soft and the fat is beginning to release. Add the farro and stir, covering the grains with the oil, and cook until grains smell a little toasty. Add the leeks and carrots. Continue to cook, stirring, until vegetables are soft. Add the wine and continue cooking until the wine is fully absorbed. Then begin adding the stock, about ½ cup at a time, stirring the mixture until the broth is absorbed then add more. When the grains are done (taste one until you get the right bite,) add the parsley and parmesan, stirring until the cheese is melted. Add salt and pepper to taste and serve.

May 7, 2006 – The Chicken Cook-off

A few months ago, our friend Robin announced to me, “Hey, I roasted a chicken in our new convection oven for the first time and boy was that good!” Like me, she had never used a convection oven before but, unlike me, she and her partner Monica had recently remodeled their kitchen with new appliances and actually now owned a convection oven.

Robin’s announcement came soon after I visited with my friend, Leslie, who is in the process of building a new house and came over to talk about kitchens. She asked about convection ovens and I confessed that I had never used one before but was quite happy with my regular oven.

So, Robin’s comment piqued my interest and I suggested, “Let’s do a chicken cook-off! Your roast chicken in a convention oven versus mine in a regular oven!” She agreed with, “You’re on!” As it turns out, her house is perfect for such a gig. Some years ago when her parents were still alive, they added on a separate “apartment” to the main house. So there were two kitchens and two ovens available to cook both birds simultaneously.

Being roast chicken fans, Steve and I have tried various approaches and techniques and have pretty much arrived at an approach by Barbara Kafka that calls for roasting at higher temperatures than more commonly used. We’ve combined this with a technique from an early Cook’s Illustrated magazine that calls for cooking the bird on one side for 20 minutes, then flipping to the other side for 20 minutes, then breast-up for the final 20 minutes.

The planning began. I presented a proposed menu to Robin which included:

• Bruschetta with Broiled Feta, Honey, and Aniseed
• Mediterranean-Roasted Chicken
• Braised Baby Spring Turnips with Greens
• Braised Winter Carrots with Toasted Cumin and Coriander
• Gratin Dauphinois with Potatoes and Fennel
• Elise’s Big Soft Molasses Cookies

She looked it over and said, “That looks good.” Then she paused and said, “What’s ‘Mediterranean Chicken?’” I shrugged and said, “I figured we would use Herbes de Provence and stuff it with some lemon quarters. A lot of this is just what you call things.” She nodded in agreement.

Thus a few weeks ago, we gathered at Robin & Monica’s river-side home mid-afternoon to start the event. We were to be joined by Robin’s daughter, our friend Matilda, and her step-daughter. Steve and I brought over our Farmer’s Market purchases, including the baby turnips and wintered-over fresh carrots. The cookies were freshly baked that morning and the gratin was assembled and ready to bake.

After preparing the vegetable dishes for final warming, we started on the chickens. I pulled out the roasting pan I brought to use. “Oh,” Robin said, “You have a better roasting pan than me. I misplaced mine that was like that.” “Ah well,” I say in response, thinking that now I might have an edge in this contest. So, the jesting began, and it only got worse. It culminated with Monica suggesting that Robin had actually gone out and bought a Safeway broasted chicken that she was going to bring out in the end to trump the match.

We stood side by side at the counter, each facing our own naked bird. In tandem, we sprinkled the birds inside and out with salt and pepper; then massaged our birds all over with softened butter; rubbed in herbes de provence liberally; and finally stuffed them with quartered lemons. We conducted each step with total focus, concentration, and seriousness.

It turns out that Robin’s bird, using the guidelines that went with their convection oven, was to cook as long as my bird, which was supposed to be cooked at 500 degrees (ala Kafka) but I had opted for 475 degrees not knowing the oven. Both were to cook for an hour. Robin, hearing of the technique of turning the bird, immediately stole it for her bird as well. With ovens pre-heated, the roasting began while we adjourned to the deck with glasses of champagne and appetizers.

After about 15 minutes, Monica went into the house for something and, upon returning, announced, “Well, I don’t know whose chicken is going to win this cook-off but Deb’s sure wins for smoking!” A glance into the house confirmed her observation. Smoke was seeping out of the sides of the oven I was using. I checked the chicken and it all looked normal. So, we turned the stove fan on and returned to the deck. Soon, though, the smoke alarms started. Their alarms are hard-wired into the electrical system so they can’t just be disabled by removing the battery. Robin opened up all the windows, covered one of the alarms with some heavy material, and closed off the room that had the other alarm. The smoke continued to seep from the oven but we were able to enjoy it in quiet after that.

In the end, we carved both of the birds up and set out the meal. Questions such as “Now, was this Robin’s bird or Deb’s?” and responses such as “Deb’s, I think,” and “No, I think that was Robin’s,” might make you wonder about the validity of this contest. But, I think I managed to score a chicken leg from each of our chickens for my plate and I think I kept their identities intact. My final opinion - I think I liked Robin’s bird better.

There you go, for what its worth. Convection versus non-convection. I expect it needs further research but maybe not at Robin’s house where one smoke-out might be one more than one really needs.

But the meal was fun and the molasses cookies were raved about. I took the remainder of the cookies to work on Monday morning and they were a big hit there as well. It’s clear that some things I take to work to share with others are definitely bigger hits than others. These molasses cookies belong in this category as well as some Chocolate Chip-Peanut Butter Sandwich cookies I took to work not so long ago. I’m including the recipes for both of these cookies below.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Things, and try doing a cook-off with these two cookie recipes to see which one is your favorite!



Elise’s Big, Soft Molasses Cookies
From Elise
Yield: depends how big you want them. I get about 3 dozen.

• ½ cup butter, softened
• ½ cup shortening
• 1 ½ cups granulated sugar
• ½ cup unsulphured molasses
• 2 eggs, lightly beated
• 4 cups flour
• 2 ½ tsp ground ginger
• 2 ½ tsp baking soda
• 1 ½ tsp ground cloves
• 1 ½ tsp cinnamon
• ½ tsp salt
• More granulated sugar for coating

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place racks in the top and lower third positions.

Fill small bowl with some sugar and set aside (for coating cookies.)

Cream butter, shortening, and sugar in large bowl. After the mixture is smooth, add molasses, then eggs.

In separate bowl, mix together all dry ingredients, then add to wet mixture until blended. Dough will be very thick.

Roll into 1 – 1 ½ inch balls, then roll in sugar. Place on ungreased cookie sheets, 1 1/2 inches apart. Bake 10 – 12 minutes total, switching the trays around half-way through baking, or until cookies are golden-brown and cracked. Cool slightly then transfer to racks to cook completely.



Chocolate Chip-Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies
Adapted from Bon Appetite magazine, February, 2006
Yield: about 2 ½ dozen sandwiched cookies

Cookies

• 1 ¾ cups all purpose flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• ½ tsp baking soda
• ½ tap coarse kosher salt
• ½ cup plus 1/3 cup powdered sugar
• ½ cup plus 1 Tbs packed dark, brown sugar
• 6 Tbs unsalted butter, softened
• ½ cup creamy peanut butter
• ½ cup vegetable oil
• 1 ½ tsp vanilla extract
• 1 large egg, lightly beaten
• 8 ounces milk chocolate chips

Filling

• 4 ounces high-quality bittersweet chocolate
• ¼ cup creamy peanut butter
• 2 Tbs powdered sugar
• ¼ tsp coarse kosher salt
• 6 Tbs whipping cream

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place racks in the top and lower third positions.

For cookies, whisk first four ingredients together in a medium bowl and set aside.

Cream the powdered sugar, brown sugar, and softened butter together in a large bowl. Add peanut butter and beat until creamy. Gradually beat in vegetable oil, vanilla extract, then egg. By hand, stir in chocolate chips.

Drop cookie dough by level tablespoons onto ungreased baking sheets, spacing about 1 ½ inches apart. Bake cookies until puffed and golden brown, about 12 minutes, rotating sheets half-way through baking. Cool slightly, then transfer to racks to complete cooling.

For filling, place chocolate, peanut butter, powdered sugar and salt in medium bowl. Bring whipping cream to a boil in heavy small saucepan. Pour hot cream over chocolate mixture; stir until mixture is melted and smooth. Chill until filling is thick and spreadable, about 1 hour.

To compose cookies, spread about 1 rounded tsp of filling on flat side of cookie then top with second cookie (flat side to filling) forming a sandwich. Repeat with remaining filling and cookies.

October 22, 2006 – Beans and Beans

“Here’s today’s crop,” Steve announced entering the back door with a heaping colander of goods from the garden, “Got more green beans!”

“Oh, great,” I reply half heartedly.

I have to admit that I have reached that time of the year when I am just a bit tired of green beans. We have been awash with green beans for many months. We’ve had green beans in so many ways that I could write a cookbook on green beans alone. Fortunately, it is a versatile vegetable and can cross a number of cuisines - which helps when you have a daily supply coming in through that back door.

We’ve had so many green beans that we had to develop a kitchen storage/classification system. One drawer of our refrigerator is devoted to green beans. Each day’s new crop of beans gets put into its own plastic bag at the back of the drawer. These bags then line up sequentially – back to front. The cook of the day uses the bag at the front of the door – the oldest of the supply. The cook then sorts through the beans in this bag removing those really big, fibrous ones and putting them into a separate reserved bag in the bean drawer. Once a big enough supply of the “big ones” gets accumulated, then a separate dish of beans, usually involving a slow braising, gets made. Steve’s method for using the “big ones” is that, if it can be easily sliced with a knife, it gets included as is, usually sliced into one inch pieces. If not, then the pod is separated and only the inside bean kernel gets thrown into whatever the dish is.

As usual, we’ve been mostly eating from the garden throughout this growing season. The daily challenge has been to use up some vegetable (or vegetables) that are at their peak, or that are particularly plentiful, or are on their way out at the moment. It’s a bit of a game and it is, admittedly, fun. But, at some point, I come to the place when I just want to break out of the box. Last week, I actually made a meal that included NOT ONE THING from our garden (gasp!) This morning, as we were discussing what to have for dinner, Steve said “I kinda want some meat!” - perhaps a reaction to the series of vegetarian meals we have had in the last several days.
So, tonight we are going to have a meal that does not include a single bean, but does include the use of our current good supply of mint and basil in the garden. (We want to use these up before the first frost comes.) We will be having Vietnamese Pork and Shrimp Balls in Lettuce Leaves along with Thai Spicy Herb Sauce. This did involve (another gasp) the purchase of some Bibb lettuce because the abundant supply of tender leaves of lettuce in our garden just aren’t sturdy enough to hold these spicy meatballs. (I can’t remember the last time we purchased lettuce!)

Last week, in “the meal of no-garden-produce-involved,” I did try out some dried beans that I found this summer in a Hispanic produce market on the coast in Tillamook, Oregon. They are called Peruano Beans and they were packaged by a local company called “Valley Fresh Produce LLC” located in Tillamook. I had never heard of nor seen these beans before so, of course, I bought some. They are small, round, yellowish, shiny beans. After a bit of research, I’m not sure that they were actually grown in the Tillamook area but they are plentifully grown in northwest Mexico . Also called Mayocoba beans, they are a staple of northwest Mexico households and in growing demand in the United States as we become a more diverse population. They are great! If you can find them, buy them! They are available over the Internet but they are pretty expensive there. Look for them in Hispanic markets. I paid $1.50 a pound at the Tillamook store and plan on buying more of them when I’m over there next weekend when we go to the coast.

Fall has arrived here in Oregon . It is the time of year when one can go out in the early dawn and hear nothing but the leaves falling from the trees. In my thoughts, this fall, are memories of my dear brother Paul’s visit here in the fall of 2004 along with his wife Mary. The weather was similar. We greatly enjoyed our walks in the brisk air and the falling leaves. His joy of life and spontaneity were infectious.

I am including recipes for the Peruano Bean dish I cooked earlier this week which turned out wonderfully! You can substitute Pinto Beans if you can’t find Peruano beans. If you hate cilantro, substitute parsley but reduce the quantity or omit entirely. I’m also including a couple of green bean recipes we have used that demonstrate the versatility of this vegetable across a range of cuisines.

Eat well, Enjoy the Small Things, and remember to tell your brother or sister you love them today.

“Drunken” Peruano Beans with Cilantro and Bacon
Adapted from Rick Bayless’s Mexican Kitchen
Yield: about 4 cups

• 8 ounces (about 1 ¼ cups)dry Peruano beans
• About 2 ounces salt pork in largish chunks
• 4 thick slices bacon, sliced into ¼ inch pieces
• ½ medium yellow onion, diced into ¼ inch pieces
• 2 serranos or 1 jalopeno chili, stemmed, seeded, chopped
• 2 cloves of garlic, chopped finely
• Salt & pepper
• 2 Tbs tequila
• ½ cup roughly chopped cilantro (or more if you like it)

Rinse the beans thoroughly then bring to a boil along with the salt pork in generously salted water. Simmer until done. Drain, reserving 1 cup of the water, and remove salt pork.

In the meantime, sauté the bacon until done but not crispy. Drain and set aside. Pour off all but 2 tbs of the drippings and sauté the onion and chilies until soft. Add the garlic and sauté until the raw garlic smell is gone.

Add the beans to the onion mixture along with the reserved bacon. Add some of the reserved bean cooking liquid to get the desired texture (just loose but not soupy.) Simmer 5-10 minutes.
Just before serving, add the Tequila and simmer 5-10 minutes. Add the cilantro, stir and serve.


Szechuan Green Beans
Yield: 4 servings

• 1 lb green beans or Chinese longbeans
• 1 Tbs garlic, chopped
• 1 Tbs ginger, chopped
• 2 green onions, white and pale green parts only, chopped
• ½ tsp Asian chili paste
• 1 Tbs dark soy sauce
• ½ tsp sugar
• Salt, to taste
• Pepper, to taste
• 2 Tbs vegetable or peanut oil or more, as needed, for stir-frying

Wash the beans, drain, and trim the stalk end leaving the bottom end intact.
Heat 1 Tbs oil in a large frying pan or wok over medium heat. Add the beans and stir-fry until they start to shrivel or “pucker” and turn brown, about 5-7 minutes. Remove the beans and drain on paper towels.

Heat 1 Tbs oil over high heat. Add the garlic, ginger and scallions. Stir-fry a few seconds, then add the chili paste and stir-fry a few more seconds until aromatic.
Add the green beans to the pan along with remaining ingredients. Mix together until hot and serve.

Chick Pea and Green Bean Salad (North Indian Style)
From The Madhur Jaffrey Cookbook
Yield: Serves 6

• 12 ounces cooked chick peas or used rinsed canned chick peas

Dressing for the Chick Peas

• 4 ounces vegetable oil
• 2 ounces red wine vinegar
• ¼ - 1/3 tsp salt
• 1 tsp garam masala
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed to a pulp
• 1/8 tsp cayenne pepper

Dressing for the Green Beans

• 2 ounces vegetable oil
• 2 Tbs lemon juice
• ½ tsp salt
• 1 tsp garam masala
• 2 Tbs finely chopped onions
• 1 tsp finely chopped ginger
  
  
• ½ lb fresh green beans
• Salt to taste

Cook the chick peas in simmering water with salt until done. If using canned beans, warm the rinsed beans in some water until hot.

Meanwhile mix together the dressing for the chick peas. When chick peas are done, drain and add them to the dressing while still hot. Stir and let sit for 2-5 hours to absorb the flavor.

Make the dressing for the green beans.

Cook the green beans in simmering water until just done. Add to their dressing, salt and pepper to taste, and let them sit five minutes.
Combine the chick peas and green beans together, check for seasoninigs, and serve.

November 3, 2006 – Settlin’ In

WHAT HE SAID (in a semi-incredulous voice): “So, for twenty bucks, do you really want to just go have a glass of wine, look at some art, and have a bite to eat?”

WHAT SHE HEARD (in same semi-incredulous voice): “So, do you really want to just go have a glass of wine, look at some art, and have a bite to eat?”

For some of you, these two questions might not be that different. For others, the twenty bucks in question might make a world of difference. But, there’s a couple of other things to factor in. The event in question is a charity event to benefit restoration efforts for the local Tualatin River - much in need of restoration. Our very good friends Robin & Monica live on that river. Our very good friends Robin & Monica invited us to this event. Our very good friends Joanne & Paul were also planning on meeting all of us at said event.

SO, my answer, to either question was and still is “Well, uh, yes.”

But further background might be in order here as well. Although neither Steve nor I are anywhere near gadabouts, Steve would be the first to say that he would rather stay home (and close to home) more than I.

Recently, we were trying to arrange lunch plans with Joanne & Paul. By telephone, Paul & I concur that yes, we all want to go to lunch. I say that I’ll get back to him about suggested places. I do a little research. I go to Steve and suggest Hudson ’s which is, in fact, located in Vancouver , Washington . Just remember now that Vancouver , Washington is right across the river from Portland , Oregon . It’s maybe, what, 10 miles? Steve’s immediate response to my suggestion was….“ VANCOUVER ????” Now this was NOT in a semi-incredulous voice. This was in a “Are you out of your mind?” type of voice. Obviously, I was. We ate at an equally wonderful place in downtown Portland .

Last weekend, we had a weekend planned at the beach with Robin & Monica. I had originally planned the weekend assuming that Steve would not want to go. When I told him my plans, he said, “What? You’re going to the beach without me?” I assured him that he was more than welcome. Plans were made for the four of us. Two days before going, he backed out for, admittedly, a very good cause. After all, the World Series was not yet over and the beach house does not have television access.

Nevertheless, a little bit of a theme had been going with these recent events, at least, in my mind. I like being “settled-in” but not TOO “settled-in.” And my idea of being TOO settled-in, I had begun to think, might be Steve’s comfort zone. At least, that’s how I was thinking.

But, today, I started thinking about this a little differently. First off, in two weeks, Steve and I are embarking on a road trip to Minnesota to go to the very first wedding of his only brother who is now 52 years old. This is, remember, November. This route, also note, goes over the Rocky Mountains, across Montana and South Dakota , and, one can only reasonably suspect, will encounter some bad weather - maybe some very bad weather. Most people who hear about our plans immediately ask, quite reasonably, “Now, why aren’t you flying?”

Well, the answer to that is a road trip makes Steve less nervous than flying on an airplane. But, in reality, taking this road trip is much more likely to be fraught with possible dangers than an airplane trip to Minnesota ever would be. So, believe me, this plan is not coming from a TOO settled-in type of guy and I am delighted and looking forward to this adventure.

And, today, Steve and I went out to lunch – which is not an unusual nor typically adventurous event, but we had a rather unusual lunch. We went to the Heathman Hotel. I perused the menu while he perused the wine list – our usual style. He suggested a wine. I suggested the following, “Why don’t we share several of the appetizers like the Grilled Lamb Tongue with Orange-Chestnut Gremolata, the Boquerones (Spanish pickled anchovies) with Italian Butter Beans & Arugula, and the Crepe Normande (camembert, potato & smoked bacon in a crispy crepe.) “That’s sounds good,” he says, “How about adding the Golden Chanterelle Salad (sautéed local chanterelles on baby greens with hazelnuts & vinaigrette.)” “Perfect,” I say, and the eating adventure began.

I have to admit that a TOO-settled in type of person would have immediately balked at my menu suggestion. What can you say about a guy who doesn’t hesitate in ordering lamb’s tongue and Boquerones? Well, basically, I say such a guy is not TOO settled-in. It’s the guy I love. It’s the guy I look forward to crossing the hinterlands with to get to a wedding that would be much easier to fly to. It’s the guy I hope to share a lifetime of eating adventures with.

The rain has arrived in Portland . Yesterday was quite cold and rainy. It is perfect weather to settle in with. Last night, we shared Choucroute Garni with Joanne who stopped by for our episodic “Whine with Wine” sessions – she has a very hard job! We enjoyed this great cold-weather dish watching television before the big-screen. Today, some of the leftovers made their way over to our neighbor, Shirley.

By the way, the lunch meal was divine. There was not a single thing wrong with it. Lamb’s tongue is not like beef tongue, which I also love. It is a softer texture and tastes like, well, lamb. If you live in Portland , try this meal at Heathman.

Eat well, Enjoy the Small Things, and try to attain that balance of being settled-in but not TOO settled-in.

Choucroute Garni – Braised Alsatian Sauerkraut & Kielbasa
Yield: serves 8-10

• 4 lbs bagged sauerkraut
• 1 Tbs butter
• 2 lbs kielbasa (two of the long curved sausages found in supermarkets)
• ½ lb bacon, diced
• 2 yellow onions, chopped
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 tsps caraway seeds
• 1 tsp dried thyme
• ¼ tsp ground coriander
• 2 tsp black pepper
• 1 750 ml bottle Alsatian-style Riesling, pinot gris, or similar-type wine
• 1-2 cups chicken stock, plus more if needed
• 1 Tbs juniper berries, crushed
• 3 bay leaves
• potatoes

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Place sauerkraut in a colander and rinse thoroughly for several minutes. Squeeze dry and reserve.

Melt butter in a large, heavy Dutch Oven over medium heat. Cut the kielbasa’s in half and nestle the four halves in the pan and allow to brown letting the skin darken and curl. Turn over and brown the other side. Remove to a plate and reserve.

Add bacon to the pan and cook until partially rendered. Stir in the onions and continue cooking for a minute. Add the garlic, caraway, thyme, coriander and pepper. Cover and cook over low heat until onions are tender – 5-10 minutes. Do not let brown.

Add reserved sauerkraut, 2 cups wine, 1 – 1 ½ cups chicken stock, juniper berries, and bay leaves to the pan. Cover and cook over medium heat until liquid bubbles. Remove from the heat.

Cut sausages into 1 ½ inch – 2 inch lengths. Add sausages to sauerkraut pushing the pieces down into the sauerkraut mixture spreading sauerkraut over the top. Mixture should be kind of liquidy but not soupy. If needed, add more wine and stock.

Place in oven and cook, covered for 45 minutes. Check for liquid, adding more stock as necessary. Add the potatoes and push the potatoes down into the mixture, covering with sauerkraut. Bake covered for another 1-1 ½ hours until potatoes are done. Check periodically for liquid adding more stock as needed. The sauerkraut will absorb the liquid.
Serve on a platter when done.

November 11, 2006 – Bridge

We don’t play what you would call a “serious” game of bridge. “We”, in this case, refers to me and the three other women I play bridge with – Joanne, Kim, and Shelley. Jo & I have been playing cards together for about as long as we have known each other, which is about 23 years now. It started out with spades and then we switched to bridge in the late 80’s. Jo & I have gone through several sets of regular bridge-playing partners. But, by far, our current group (which has probably been going about ten years now) is the best.

By not “serious”, I don’t mean that we don’t play to win. At times, we can be ruthless. When the hand is dealt (and when we actually settle down to play it), the concentration and focus can be almost palpable. We are what I would call “pretty good” bridge players – not expert, but we can hold our own. We are not, though, what I would call “evolving” bridge players. We learned one way of playing it (I self-taught myself and then taught the others) and that’s pretty much the way we keep playing it. So, we play what would have been some of the most up-to-date rules of bridge circa late 80’s. People who are “serious” about the game keep up with the evolving rules and conventions and change their style as the game evolves. That’s not us.

Plus, we are not “serious” in many other ways. One of us might say, “Hmmmm, can I take that back?” after laying down a card. Or, “Hey, would you look at this and give me some advice?” proffering our hand to another player. Or , we might get through the bidding but think, well, it could have been bid in a different and better way and just do the whole thing over. Heck, late in the evening and after a certain amount to drink, one or more of us have been known to secretly “stack the deck” so that one player, who has had a particularly terrible night of poor hands, gets dealt a spectacular hand! Then we all have a good laugh.

We don’t keep score. Each hand dealt is its own individual competition. Once it’s over, it is done. I like this for its purity of bidding and playing. You bid the highest you think you can get and you try to make it. When you keep regular score in bridge, your play and bidding may vary based on whether you are vulnerable or not and how close you are to winning the game.

But, mostly we are not “serious” because a night of bridge means a night of peals of laughter punctuated by extended periods of non-bridge playing time when we catch up on what is going on in each other’s lives. These usually end by me announcing, “Okay, you guys, let’s play some bridge,” and back we go. If I didn’t do this, we would have even less bridge-playing than we already have.

I haven’t written about this bridge foursome before. Since I have been writing these essays, I have frequently wondered why I have not. Because, clearly, I write about things that are significant in my life. And, clearly, this group of women is very important in my life. And, clearly, since we eat stuff when we play bridge, there have been any number of food-related topics I could have included to fit into these essays. But, I never wrote about them. And, I wondered why.

I have concluded that I just don’t have the writing skills to describe us. We have helped each other through some very bad times and have celebrated the greatest times as well. The four of us are so very different people – bringing very different qualities to the table. It’s too complicated and too precious for me to characterize us in some off-handed or humorous way. But, I have to admit, I have missed writing about some very great food by not writing about bridge nights.

So, I’m just putting it out there. Yes, I play bridge, regularly, with these folks. Now that I’ve put that on the table, maybe I can try to describe some aspect of our get-togethers in the style of these essays. Last night, we got together. Shelley, per usual, was late. The rest of us, per usual, wondered if she had remembered or not. Steve, per usual, retired to the basement and played movies at a volume that shook the house. We did the work updates. We did the personal life updates. Jo started the whole evening off with a totally wrong bid but it didn’t matter anyway. We wondered, again, just how long Kim’s significant other’s divorce was going to take. We wondered, again, whether Kim and Paul would get married at the end of all this or not. We heard about Shelley going to a meditation retreat where one didn’t talk for four days. (I, personally, wondered why anyone would ever want to do this.) I talked about my brother Paul. Jo & I finalized Christmas plans. The mothers in the crowd talked about the Halloween costumes their children had chosen. In the course of the evening, only a couple of no-trump hands were played (a relief for some of us.) I went down twice, but not without a good fight. No baby-slams or grand-slams were bid or won. Mostly, everybody played pretty well.

And, MAN, did we have some great food last night. We were here, which we have been doing lately because I don’t work on Fridays and I love to cook. I did a Southern theme – basically a “meat and three” type of thing. We had baked ham with mandarin & quince glaze. We had fava beans with lemon vinaigrette and parsley; collard greens slow-cooked with smoked ham hock; slow cooked green beans with tomatoes; and, well, corn fritters which, I guess makes it “meat and four.”

I’m including the recipes for at least the “three” below. This is Steve’s collard green recipe. (Margie Young has her own great collard green recipe that is to die for as well!) The green bean recipe is a favorite of ours to use up with our end-of-the-season bigger green beans. Although the recipe calls for canned tomatoes, we usually just use our end- of-the-season tomatoes for this. Typically, we keep it pretty juicy and toss it with a pasta such as penne. Last night, I cooked it down (and added some of the juice to the collards) to serve as a vegetable side dish.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Things, and bid your cards as high as you can make it.

Fava Beans with Lemon Vinaigrette, Red Onion, & Parsley

• The amount of dried fava beans you want.
• Lemons
• Olive oil
• Red onion
• Parsley
• Salt & Pepper to taste

Rinse the beans thoroughly then bring to a boil in generously salted water. Simmer until done.

In the meantime, zest the lemon or lemons you are using. Make a lemon vinaigrette with about ½ lemon juice and ½ olive oil. Drain the beans when done and, while warm, toss with the vinaigrette and lemon zest. It can be a rather wet dressing as the beans will soak up some of the vinaigrette over time. Set aside for a couple of hours.

Thinly slice the amount of red onion you want, then cut into 1 inch strips. Chop the parsley you want (use a lot), then toss the red onion and parsley with the beans. Salt & pepper to taste. Serve at room temperature.

Slow-Cooked Collard Greens

• A mess’o’collard greens
• Ham hock or smoked pig’s neck
• 1 Tbs cider vinegar
• 1 tsp hot sauce
• ½ tsp sugar
• Salt & pepper to taste

Wash the greens and cut into 1 inch strips then into 1 inch squares.

Meanwhile, cover the ham hock with water and bring to a boil. Simmer ½ hour.

Put the greens into the water with the ham hock. Add the vinegar, hot sauce, and sugar. Add salt to taste. Simmer until done. Add water as needed. If too watery when done, cook until water is evaporated.

Green Beans with Tomatoes & Onions
Adapted from Fine Cooking, November 2002
Yield: Serves 4-6

• ¼ cup olive oil
• 1 ½ cups diced onions
• 1 ½ tsp salt
• 6 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1 can (28 ounces) tomatoes, chopped or approximate equivalent of fresh tomatoes chopped
• 10 ounces fresh green beans cut into thirds (If you are using some of the bigger green beans that you lost sight of on the vine, just use the seeds and discard the rest.)
• ½ tsp red pepper flakes
• 2 ½ cups chicken broth
• ¼ cup slivered basil leaves
• 1 tsp ground black pepper
• ¼ cup freshly ground Parmigiano Reggiano
• 1 Tbs chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

Heat theoil in a large, straight-sided sauté pan over medium heat. Add the onion and salt. Cook until translucent. Add the garlic and cook about 30 seconds until fragrant.

Add the tomatoes and their juices, the green beans, red pepper flakes and broth to the pan. Simmer until the beans are fork-tender. Add more broth as needed. If you are using for a pasta, you will want a wetter sauce. If serving as a side dish, cook the liquid down.

Before serving, add the basil, cheese and parsley.

December 8 , 2006 – The Wedding

“OOOOOEHEW,” she said.

Or maybe it was “EEEEOOHEW.”

Whatever it was, it was clearly an immediate and heartfelt expression of sympathy which was confirmed when it was followed by her saying, “I am REALLY sorry!”

“What?” I cried out with some growing alarm. After all, I had just met this person and her concern for me seemed outside of what typical Minnesotan social norms would call for.

But let me back up a bit. We (Steve and I) were in Fairmont , Minnesota for the wedding of his only brother, Chuck, now 52 years old and never been married before. (As one of Chuck’s friends’s said when hearing of the wedding, “This is a see-it-to-believe-it event!”) Chuck was to marry Ellen – the mother of the lovely ten year old Laura.

We (Steve and I) were of course both thrilled and happy to be there and to help out in any way. This was no small affair. Two hundred people were to attend the wedding followed by a sit-down dinner at the reception hall. Another hundred people had been invited for the dance to follow the dinner.

We (Ellen and I) had been to the reception hall the day before to check on how things were going with the wedding coordinator and the decorating of the hall. It was then that I had learned that the cake-maker was to deliver the cakes on the following day (the day of the wedding) at ten a.m. I, as the designated “cake coordinator”, was to meet her there and learn about just how to “coordinate” that cake.

I’ve never been a “cake coordinator” before but had a vague idea that it simply involved cutting up the cake. This, as it turns out, is basically true. Hence, I was surprised by the above initial response of Cathy, the cake-maker, when I introduced myself the next morning as the person responsible for cutting up the cake.

In response to my semi-alarmed “What?”, Cathy said, “I had to do that once, too. I can tell you, I’d rather make these things than cut them up!”

“Why is that?” I ask, ignorant, apparently, of some obscure aspect of wedding cakes.

“Well,” she said, “you’re going to get frosting ALL OVER yourself. Just better prepare for that! Better bring a LOT of paper towels. And, I mean a LOT . Even then, this is going to be messy. This frosting just sticks to you. So just be ready.”

She then looked me up and down and said, “I hope that there will be more than just you doing this.” Well, I didn’t quite know how to take this but, as it turns out, there was more than “just me.” Someone named Cindy was to help me out, so I assured her of this.

She then proceeded to introduce me to the cakes. We were to start with the three sheet cakes – each a different flavor. The sheets were already marked with where we were supposed to cut them. This looked simple. It looked like we just needed a knife and a spatula of some sort and we would be in business.

We then moved to the official wedding cake. This was a tall four-tiered deal of successively smaller sizes of squares. It was lovely. Looking very wedding-cake-like. Cathy was busy applying ribbons (non-edible) to the outside of it along with decorative squishes of extra frosting (edible.)
Each tier was tall in itself – looking to be about five inches in height being composed of two separate layers. Each tier was a different flavor. The tiers lay directly on top of each other, that is, they were not separated by the common faux-pillars that frequent many a wedding cake. And this, my friends, was a key thing that caused Cathy’s expression of sympathy upon introduction.

“I tried to talk them into something to separate these layers but they liked this look,” she said. “So, this is how you do this. First, you remove the ribbon,” (remember, non-edible.) “Then you pull out the…” [I can’t remember what she called them but they were these vertical support thingees that stuck down into each tier apparently to anchor it to the tier below it.] She proceeded with, “Then you just have to stick your fingers into the cake” demonstrating with her hands by making an energetic jabbing motion with her hands around the sides of the top tier of the cake “and pull up the [tier] and put it over” (looking around) “well, I guess you can just use these cardboard things that the sheet cakes were on to put them on. Then you can cut them on that.”

Now this is where I thought I started to understand the part about how you were going to get frosting ALL OVER you.

“So, how do you cut these things?” I asked, as I speculatively eyed those tall tiers of fluffy sweetness.

“Well, there are two of you, right?” she asked again, eyeing me, in turn, with some speculation of her own.

“Yes,” I reassured her, once again.

“It’s a two-person job,” she proceeded. “First, you pull off the top layer and put it aside. This will go home with the wedding couple. Then, you separate the rest of the layers because you will probably want to provide different flavors for people to choose from. When you cut each one, I suggest that you cut across here,” making a slicing motion about two inches from the edge of the cake. “Then, one person cuts the slice,” making another slicing motion about one inch perpendicular, “and flips the slice over on the plate that the other person holds here,” showing a simple flip-off to the left. “Be careful when you get to this last slice because it wants to fall over.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking it seemed do-able, while also re-envisioning that the spatula we needed should be a broader type than I previously thought. I also started thinking about aprons at this point, imagining the black pants suit I would be wearing to the event.

So, Cathy and I parted company while I proceeded to the local ShopKo to purchase a cake-cutting knife, a broad flexible spatula, and two packages (ten, in all) of simple (but large) white flour-cloth dish towels that I somehow thought would look fancier than paper towels for dealing with that notorious frosting. Alas, no aprons were to be found.

Later that day, Chuck and Ellen got married and became legal. They were sufficiently congratulated and, I’m sure, Chuck suffered through many versions of “Who would have ever thunk!” The throngs headed over to the reception hall where Cindy and I had now met. I had walked Cindy through the cake-cutting procedure as Cathy had taught me. I was a little reassured because Cindy said she had actually been responsible for the cake-cutting in at least one other wedding. (This is where I should also say that putting me in charge of cake coordination was…well, I can only say that I can just imagine my sister Diana and my mother breaking up in laughter.) Plus, Cindy had already paid me a huge compliment by saying, “Well, I had heard that you were cooking Thanksgiving dinner for them [Steve’s family] and I was glad to hear that because then I knew you were a worker.”

With the exception of those occupying the head table, the rest of the people attending the reception went through a buffet line to get their dinner and then stopped by the cake table to pick up their slice of cake before proceeding to their seats. Cindy and I were set. I had fortunately located some sturdy aprons in the hall’s kitchen, which we were both glad to don. Some of the flour-cloth dish towels were moistened and ready to use as needed. Another was looped around my apron string for immediate access. The remaining pile was close at hand. We had already arranged the first envoy of cake-filled plates on our available table space when the throngs started heading through the buffet. We stood, feet apart, shoulders squared.

It was a full, frontal attack. Our small supply of cakes was quickly exhausted. We were throwing more plates out there as quickly as we could. An early piece hit the floor which we quickly wiped up with one of the dish towels. Many more pieces required quick finger jabs to keep them upright. Visions of Lucille Ball and Ethyl at the candy factory filled my head. Then, we settled into a rhythm.
But, let me tell you, even though we got our rhythm AND we were still on the “easy” part, (the sheet cakes), that frosting REALLY DOES stick to you. It just seems to jump out at you and cover you with messiness. Globules of frosting bejeweled our hands. Towel after towel was glued-up then tossed under the table.

We finished with the sheet cakes and headed toward that towering monolith of glorious wedding cakedom. We paused in some reverence. “Well, I guess we just do it,” I announced. Like a sumu wrestler, I bent my knees slightly, dug my hands into the cake to grasp the top layer, and transferred it to the waiting foil-covered cardboard platter. The remaining layers were equally dispatched. At this point, my hands were heavily slathered with frosting which I was trying to scrape off on the remaining towels while Cindy repaired the layers. More cutting of cake ensued using the flip-off-to-the-left technique. When the throngs had receded and the head table got their cakes, we retired to our own seats satisfied with our contribution to the event.

Over the years, I have learned many things when I have visited Steve’s family in Minnesota . For example, one year I gained a healthy appreciation for just how smelly pigs can be and just how pervasive that smell is. A hog farm smell is not like anything I had ever encountered before. It’s a good thing to know. This year, I gained a firm appreciation for the tenacious and glutinous qualities of wedding cake frosting. I am quite sure that this new knowledge will stand me in good stead over the years to come.

All kidding aside, it was a lovely wedding and a wonderful visit to Minnesota . Steve and I are delighted to welcome these new members to the family and look forward to many happy occasions in the future.

Eat well, Enjoy the Small Things, and always be ready for new appreciations in life.

December 30, 2006 – December

Here’s how my December went.

It’s Saturday afternoon in early December. It’s a cold forty degrees outside. I’m cooking a turkey stock on top of the stove in our large kettle. The stock will be used to make turkey noodle soup with home-made noodles. The kitchen is warm. The sun glows weakly outside. The aroma is absolutely heady. It fills the air with complete turkey majesty. I’m listening to Garrison Keillor on the radio. An Irish band is on the show and they play a jig. My feet start moving and I’m reeling around the kitchen, twirling, leaping, and stepping with the music. The cat (who is really there looking for a possible turkey handout) looks at me thinking, “Now, she has really lost it!”

Isn’t life great!

It’s the weekend before “The Christmas Brunch” – which will occur before Christmas and is a new thing we family members in Oregon are trying out this year as a way of getting together during the holidays. There is a driving rain outside and, although midday, it is dark and gloomy. I’m ensconced in the living room. The fireplace is on. One cat has stretched out to twice his size lying in front of the glowing warmth. Another cat lies curled up next to me. The third one is nestled in a nearby chair. I sit on the couch with piles of cookbooks in front of me trying to plan the brunch menu. The challenge here is to accommodate the varying tastes and dietary needs of the invited guests. One guest is vegan – which means no eggs, dairy products and, of course, no meat. Then there is the Bill/Ryan contingency, who won’t eat anything too strange but who, I’ve been told by Kellie, will eat eggs, potatoes and, of course, meat. And there is Paul, who is allergic to any poultry product, which in this case is the easiest to accommodate. Plus there is me, who wants only interesting and excellent food. I just love this challenge!

Isn’t life great!

It’s late afternoon on the Friday before Christmas. We are at the beach with our friends Joanne and Paul. Earlier, we had lunched at The BlueWater Grill, which recently replaced our much beloved Sharkey’s restaurant. Sharkey’s was in walking distance from Jo & Paul’s beach house. It had reliable beach chow, including perfectly done oysters and juicy, drippy hamburgers. It had waitresses who would chat with you and greet you like family once you had been going there a while. I was crestfallen when I learned that it was going to close. So, we were giving The BlueWater Grill the critical eye. Conclusion? Well, after two visits there, the jury is still out. They totally screwed up Paul’s pasta. The oysters and hamburgers were good. The ranch dressing was actually mayonnaise with blue cheese crumbled up in it. The lettuce greens and vegetable sides were a step up from the previous Sharkey’s. The waitress was cordial enough but more aloof. When asked, she told us that The BlueWater Grill was trying to keep approximately the same menu as Sharkey’s, but the new owners actually “cared about what came out of the kitchen.” I thought that was a bit harsh. But, back to late afternoon. We are now settled into Jo & Paul’s beach house. The curtains are open, revealing the panorama of the Pacific Ocean before us. The surf is wild - slamming high, powerful waves into the beach. I think of my brother. Jo is intent on her knitting. Paul is gently snoring away in the bedroom. Steve and I sit at the table cracking crabs – gently prying out the meat to make crabcakes for our dinner. We listen to KTIL radio playing the most unusual array of old music imaginable.

Isn’t life great!

It’s late Christmas morning. Steve and I are crouched on the stairs that open into Jo’s brother’s living room where we are watching the absolute joy of his daughter opening up her pile of presents. All of the other adults encircle the room in various chairs watching raptly as well. Her joy is infectious. We all smile and gleam. Champagne is flowing. Delicious-looking food awaits us on the nearby table for brunch to follow. I am happy to be there enjoying the company of the Fuller family.

Isn’t life great!

Its earlier this week. I spend a good part of the day once again ensconced in our living room along with the cats and the fireplace. This time, I study a new cookbook I had gotten called The Improvisational Cook by Sally Schneider. I just love a good cookbook – one that teaches as well as providing new and novel recipes. I pore over each page returning to re-read previous sections. I jot down notes. I plan out the menu for Friday night when some old friends, Julie & John, will be joining us. I decide to focus the theme of the menu on stuff from this book – all stuff that either includes a new approach, taste combination, or technique that I haven’t tried before. Julie & John are adventurous eaters who will enjoy analyzing and evaluating each dish. The hardest part is limiting the possibilities.

Isn’t life great!

And today? Well, what do you know! I am once again ensconced in our living room bracketed by lounging cats and warm fireplace. (Is there a theme going here?) Earlier, I finalized the menu and created a shopping list for our planned movie-afternoon with Robin & Monica tomorrow. Yesterday, I thawed out the duck that has been lying in our freezer for some months. No longer, will a duck face greet you when you open that freezer. Today, I’ll be chopping off the feet and head of that duck and slowly simmering it in chicken broth to help rid it of fat and to start the creation of great duck broth. I just got off the phone with Robin and got the okay for the accompaniments of stir-fried veggies and Asian-flavored noodles. Soon, we will be heading over to Bruce’s wine shop and the grocery store.

Isn’t life great!

I’m including several recipes for you to enjoy. From the Christmas brunch, there is the recipe for Tomato-Chipotle Chile Sauce – basically a spicy Mexican equivalent of a Romesco sauce that can accompany a variety of dishes. I made this with Bill & Kellie in mind to be served over the frittata. From Christmas morning, I am including the recipe for what I call Hanukkah cake – an orange-scented, very moist, olive-oil based cake that makes a lovely presentation. Finally, I am including the menu for “Almost Home-Made Mayonnaise” which we made into aioli for dinner last night. This comes from Schneider’s book. She claims she rarely makes scratch mayonnaise because of the time involved, so she concocted this version that actually does taste very similar to scratch mayonnaise. Basically, she just whips a bunch of good quality, extra-virgin olive oil into store-bought mayonnaise. It is fairly remarkable what a difference this makes! Add some garlic mashed with kosher salt and you have aioli. We served it with oven-baked fries, and John said he could spend the whole night just eating that combo. (Probably not good for you though.)

Eat well, Enjoy the Small Things, and take the time to hunker down by the fire with some cats at your side.

Tomato-Chipotle Chile Sauce
Adapted from Rick Bayless’s Mexican Kitchen
Yield: about 2 cups

• ¼ ounce dried black-red chiles chipotles colarados
• 4 garlic cloves, unpeeled
• 1 ½ pounds plum tomatoes
• 1 Tbs olive oil (if vegans or vegetarians are coming to dinner), otherwise lard
• About ½ tsp salt

Heat a heavy ungreased skillet over medium heat. Break off the stems from the chiles. Toast the chiles a few at a time by laying them on the hot surface, pressing flat then flipping to toast the other side. They will crack a little bit and perhaps release a little smoke. Transfer the toasted chiles to a bowl and cover with hot water. Let sit for 30 minutes stirring regularly. Drain and discard water.

Using the same skillet, add the garlic to roast. Roll them around with your spatula occasionally testing for when they become soft. The outsides will darken a bit. Remove when soft, about 15 minutes. Cool; remove skins, and roughly chop.

Turn the broiler on. Lay the tomatoes on a baking sheet and broil about 4 inches below the heat. When they blister, blacken and soften on one side, about 6 minutes, turn over and roast the other side. Cool, then peel, collecting all the juices with the tomatoes.

Put the tomatoes and juices, rehydrated chiles, and garlic into a food processor and pulse until the mixture has a little more texture than canned tomato sauce.

Heat the oil or lard in a heavy saucepan over medium-high heat. When it is hot enough to make a drop of the puree sizzle sharply, add it all at once and cook, stirring, until it develops and earthy red-colored sauce and thickens a bit. Taste and season with salt.

Hanukkah Cake
Yield: one nine-inch cake

• 1 ¼ cups all purpose flour
• ¼ tsp baking powder
• ¼ tsp baking soda
• ¼ tsp salt
• 2 eggs, at room temperature
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• ½ cup fruity, extra-virgin olive oil
• ¾ cup milk
• 3 heaping tablespoons grated orange zest
• 1/3 cup chopped almonds
• 3 heaping tablespoons marmalade
• 1 heaping tablespoon powdered sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Spray oil on to the bottom and sides of a 9 inch springform pan. Cut a piece of parchment paper to fit the bottom of the pan and spray the top of it lightly
Whisk together the dry ingredients in one bowl.

In another bowl, whisk together the eggs and sugar until well blended then add the olive oil, milk, and zest. Pour this batter into the dry ingredients and stir until blended. Pour this batter into the prepared pan. Bake until firm – at least 30 minutes but probably more. The top should look quite set and a toothpick should come out clean. (Even after 40 minutes, we ended up putting ours back into the oven after taking it out of the springform pan, then inverting it to find that the bottom middle was still semi-done.)

Toast the chopped almonds until lightly brown in a skillet. Warm the marmalade in a small sauce pan or in the micro-wave. Remove the springform pan and invert the cake onto a cutting board then invert it on your serving dish. Brush the warmed marmalade onto the outside 1/3 of the cake and on the outside lateral sides. Press the almonds on the top of the cake covered with the warm marmalade- they will stick to the marmalade. Dust the middle 2/3’s of the cake top with powdered sugar.

Almost Home-Made Mayonnaise
Adapted from Sally Schneider’s The Improvisational Cook
Yield: about ¾ cup

• 1/3 cup store-bought mayonnaise
• 1/2 cup good quality extra-virgin olive oil
• Fresh lemon juice to taste (about ¼ tsp or so)
• Freshly ground pepper

Put the mayonnaise into a mixing bowl. Dribble in some olive oil; whisk until combined and glossy. Add some more oil; whisk again until glossy. Just keep going until all the oil has been added. Taste. Add lemon juice and pepper to taste. Voila. Tell people it’s the real stuff!

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© 2005, 2006 Deborah Young