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Friday, January 27, 2006 -- The Dreaded Interview

I’m perusing my e-mail at work, and my good friend Laurie across the hall is also perusing her e-mail. I refer to Laurie as my “hall-mate” and a darn good hall-mate she is! We regularly lob comments across the hall to each other about whatever crosses our minds. Laurie is some high-up clinical manager muckity-muck where I work whose job is, as best I can tell, to help the rest of us figure out what to do with some of our hardest cases. I watch as various clinicians stop in at her office for a brief chat - something I call a “drive-by” consultation. I often hear, from my vantage point, Laurie providing advice and encouragement to both sophisticated and novice mental health clinicians when they present their newest dilemmas. Not infrequently, we lob comments across the hall after one of these drive-bys because many of these “dilemmas” are also my “dilemmas” as well (I being the person who prescribes medications.)

But, on this day, it was not a “drive-by” that caught my attention. Instead, it was an e-mail from our CEO’s Admin-Assistant announcing that the CEO and her second-in-command would be conducting interviews with a selection of managers in our organization (including moi) to get input about the direction and structure of the organization. The e-mail included a list of questions to be discussed, including such choice items as “How would you describe the vision for [my organization] over the next 2-4 years?”; “Given that vision, what organization change/development is needed/required to successfully move toward that vision?”; “What does this leadership team possess that will enable it to successfully move toward its vision?” and, well, you get the overall picture.

“Gaaaahhh,” I cried out. And Laurie, being the perfect hall-mate and reading the same e-mail at the same time and knowing me so well, knew exactly what I was responding to. Thus, her chuckle was neither unexpected nor needed any further comment.

You see, there was a time in my life when I would have welcomed the opportunity to respond to these types of issues. And, I do believe that these top manager-type people are doing just the right thing by this process. Further, I believe that there are many great people in my organization that have important things to say and deserved this opportunity to say them. But I, how can I say it? Well, let’s just say that I really, REALLY didn’t want to do this interview and leave it at that.

So, when the brain-wheels started to click about how I could get out of this “interview”, I arrived at my first strategy (always a good one) of just ignoring the whole thing. Then, the second e-mail showed up a few days later prompting us “chosen ones” to select an interview time. At that point, I decided that a preemptive strike was needed. It helped that the CEO and second-in-command are friends and neighbors and that we go a long way back in our various career pathways. So, I launched a “counter-offer” e-mail inviting the two of them over after work on a Friday to share food-and-drink-and-informal-discussion. (Now, you need to know, that my real motive here was to liquor-them-up so as to avoid the whole organizational discussion.) And, they took the bait.

We set a date for last Friday. Early last week, I sent them another e-mail that said:

Okay, imagine this. You've just completed your third week of interviews and have begun to wonder “what the heck were we thinking of interviewing all these folks cuz they all say the same things anyway and we have to keep nodding, looking interested, and saying ‘that's a really good idea.’” Your faces have begun to hurt because, in order to look interested, it requires 59 separate facial muscles. (I'm a nurse. I know these things.) The end of Friday (that interminable day) rolls around and you head over here. You sit nestled in a warm kitchen with the drink of your choice. You might have brought comfy clothes to change into and some slippers to don. You will be served a series of small courses (tapas-style) of delectable delights - one after another as you sip, put your feet up, and enjoy being pampered. You do not have to look interested nor say "that's a really good idea." You may use bad language, say sarcastic things about other people, and bitch about your jobs if you want. The only rules are these: try everything and give your honest opinion.

Well, we had our Friday pseudo-interview and it was great fun. I should add that, despite what I had assumed, these two folks had been enjoying the interview process a great deal. They are in positions where, so much of the time, they hear only about the problems, the crises, and the criticisms. So, to be able to share intimate time with lower managers who were optimistic, creative, and thoughtful was a thoroughly refreshing experience for them. And it had provided them with some new perspectives.

Nevertheless, we enjoyed our own style of an “interview” as well. I have included the whole menu in which, if you are a regular reader, you will recognize some favorites. But, I am including some new recipes below. First, a variation of an herbed broth with peas & prosciutto which, for this event, was served in a very small, individual bowls but could easily be a wonderful main dish soup. You may use any variety of herbs and vegetables to compose the bouquet garni which will change the flavor of the broth. And, if you want to make a vegetarian version, use a poached egg instead of the prosciutto.

Second, an invention of an appetizer that I am calling “Bacon and Egg Shooters.” This calls for poaching quail eggs (which are available in many Asian markets) and serving them in individual ceramic Asian soup spoons along with bacon bits. They are intended to be eaten in one bite as one would with an oyster shooter.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Things, and…oh, I could say something here about making lemonade out of lemons but it just sounds so trite. Me, I’m just thankful I avoided the dreaded interview. (Although, I have been forewarned by these two high-level managers that, now that they are on to my ploy, they will be on the look-out for more things that I really, REALLY want to avoid. Could be worse!)


Herbed Broth with Peas, Prosciutto, and Croutons
Adapted from a Gourmet January, 2006 recipe
Yield: Serves 6

Bouquet Garni including a chunk of celery, 1-2 bay leaves, some thyme sprigs, some parsley sprigs, 8 black peppercorns, 1/4 -1/2 tsp slightly crushed fennel seeds (Or whatever other fresh herbs and vegetables you might have available such as oregano, marjoram, tarragon, mint, fennel bulb, carrot or shallots.) Tie up all of the ingredients in cheesecloth with string

• 1 quart water
• 3 Tbs olive oil
• 6 1-inch slices of baguette or other good quality bread
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 pound Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and sliced into 1/3 inch slices or 1/2 inch cubes
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 10 ounces frozen peas
• ¼ pound prosciutto, julienned
• 1 ½ tsp salt
• ½ tsp black pepper

Bring the water and the bouquet garni to a boil and allow to simmer. Meanwhile, heat 1 1/2 Tbs of olive oil in a large skillet until shimmering. Add the slices of bread and toast both sides until golden brown. Set aside.

Heat remaining oil in skillet and add onions, cooking and stirring until soft. Add garlic to the mixture and cook, stirring, until garlic is aromatic and onions are translucent. Stir the onion-garlic mixture into the simmering broth; add the potatoes, salt and pepper; and continue to simmer until potatoes are done. Stir the peas into the broth and continue to simmer until peas are bright green and warm. Remove the bouquet garni.

Place one crouton in each of six individual serving bowls. Distribute the julienned prosciutto (or poached egg if you are going vegetarian) over each of the croutons. Ladle the warm soup into each of the bowls. Serve warm.


Bacon and Egg Shooters
Yield: Serves 6

• ¼ pound thick-sliced bacon
• 6 quail eggs, washed thoroughly with soap and cold water
• Freshly ground black pepper

Fry the bacon until just done then chop up into about ¼ inch chunks. Set aside.

Fill a wide-bottomed pan having about three-inch high sides about two-thirds full of water and a little dribble of white vinegar and bring to a bare simmer.

Meanwhile, prepare the washed quail eggs for poaching. I have found that the best way to do this is to cradle the quail egg in your curved palm. Take a sturdy paring knife and give a firm (but not smashingly firm) chop to the horizontal center of the egg, thus causing a break in the shell so that you can then pry open the shell. Drop the (now-of-course perfect) inside orb of the egg into a small bowl. Proceed with the other eggs using separate small bowls for each egg. (If an egg yolk breaks, you can still use it but the final product won’t be picture-perfect.)

Carefully pour the eggs from each bowl into the barely simmering water, spacing them around the pan. Simmer for about 1 ½ minutes (1 ¾ minutes if you are a little squeamish about yolk.) With a slotted spoon, carefully remove each of the poached eggs on to a waiting cutting board. Unlike your more-familiar chicken eggs, there will be a lacy, not-very-well-connected halo of egg white around the yolks and a more-strongly-adhered band of egg white close to the yolk. Trim off the halo of egg white leaving a perfect orb of poached egg.

Sprinkle some of the bacon bits into each of the waiting Asian soup spoons. Top with a poached egg. Grind pepper over each egg then top with the remaining bacon bits. Serve and shoot away.

MENU

A Discussion about Cascadia with Leslie & Judy

(Okay, it’s really Shameless Bribery.)

The melding of strong but complimentary flavors.

Alemendras Fritas (Spanish spicy fried almonds)

Warm oil-cured olives with orange zest

Roasted red peppers with aged balsamic vinegar

Garlic-rubbed crostini

Having bite and crunch can be a plus.

Chinese smashed radishes

Celery bites with hazelnut butter

Don’t always stick to the traditional.

Japanese-style spinach timbale with sesame-shoyu dressing

Italian-style potstickers with red sauce

Bacon & egg shooters

Sometimes, you just need comfort.

Curried chicken, pecan and toasted coconut balls

Herbed broth with peas, pastrami & croutons

Mini-Panini with aged cheddar and roasted autumn fruits

In the end, it’s all about the ingredients, the mixture, and treating things right.

Mediterranean lamb meatballs with mint-yogurt sauce

Grilled zucchini and sautéed preserved lemons

And sweetening the pot never hurts.

PIX spiked-chocolate cherries

Saturday, January 28, 2006 -- I'm Just Borrowing Them

Just a short one.

I’m reading Julie & Julia. It’s a book by Julie Powell about her life-angst-driven odyssey to cook every one of the recipes from Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking in her tiny New York City apartment in the course of a year while chronicling this experience on a web log. It’s humorous, and also quite informative about such subjects as marrowbones, calves’ feet, and other things more related to life in general.

I once leafed through the two volumes of Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a bookstore. They are hefty tomes. The two go for about fifty bucks. They, perhaps, are more historical volumes and reference books than your typical modern-day cookbook. I, at the time, put them back on the shelf but, I admit, I have regretted that choice since that day. I was remembering that remorse while reading Julie & Julia.

I tell my friend Robin the other day that I’m reading this book. She is mildly interested and says, “Hey, I’ve got those cookbooks. I got them when I was first married thinking, oh, I don’t actually remember what I was thinking. But, whatever. I just decided that they weren’t for me. Do you want them?”

I was stunned. It’s like someone just offered you the like of their mother’s wedding ring. It’s too precious an offer to really accept it. It would be gauche! Her mind must be addled! (We were, in fact, having this discussion over a glass of wine, though we were hardly at the point of being addled.)

“How about if I just borrow them.” I stammer. “Maybe while I’m reading this book.”

Sure enough, she brings the two volumes to work the next day and hands them over. I did not caress the volumes, at least in front of Robin. But I did carefully stow them in a plastic bag to take home as it is, per usual, continuing to rain here in Oregon. So, I take them home and eagerly start to read them.

Oh, what great books these are! You can just hear Julia warbling throughout! Such careful detail! Such kindly encouragement offered to that 60’s-era novice homemaker out there attempting to try her first French soufflé! Such great diagrams (always with very feminine hands) showing you just how to jerk that omelette or sew-up that deboned stuffed duck. And an organization that is the epitome of a building-block approach for teaching new skills. These books are superb! I was simply enchanted.

I drop by to see Robin the next day at work and tell her, “Hey, I’m loving those books. It’s like stepping into a warm bath!”

She pauses, only for a beat, and says, “Really! I thought it was more like a cold shower!”

Well, there you go.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Stuff and recognize that “one man’s meat is another man’s poison!”

A brief addendum. You know you are in trouble when the Oregonian, our daily newspaper, has today’s front page headline of LOOKS LIKE RAIN in about three-inch high letters – as if it hasn’t been looking “like rain” for the last forty days and nights.

Friday, February 3, 2006 -- A Shirley Update

You might remember us writing about Shirley & Frank, our back-fence neighbors who are about my parents’ age. If so, you might remember me describing Shirley as a “fiercely independent” woman with the nickname of “Babe.” (I don’t call her that but that is what many others call her and it is inscribed on the designer license plate of her Sprite convertible parked in her garage that she no longer drives.) Frank is her long-term friend who moved into her home about two years ago when it became harder for him to live on his own. They have a friendship that covers many, many years. Even before Frank moved in, he was over there every single day. They would regularly share their evening cocktail on her back patio. Frank would often barbecue during the summer. (Oh – the smell of lighter fluid wafting across the neighborhood yards!) And you could hear the sound of their light conversations and minor bickering wafting across the yard as well. I am quite fond of them.

Mostly, we keep connected chatting over the back fence. So, mostly, this occurs when the weather is better than our usual winter weather. But, we also started a tradition of getting together every Christmas season for martinis and hors d’oeuvres back when we first moved here in 1999. We started out rotating between our houses every other year. This rotation ended a few years ago when (now remember, they just live around the corner and their north fence is our south fence) they drove over to our house for the event, parked in front of our house with their dog Schatzie in the car, and toddled up to our house. It was Shirley’s idea to have our annual get-together just at their house after that, and we quickly agreed.

Shirley hasn’t driven her car since we moved here. I don’t know when she stopped or why. Since we’ve known them, Frank has been the person who drove them to wherever they needed to go – even before he moved in. But, despite the fact that Shirley broke her hip last year, she is cognitively and physically in much better shape than Frank. Frank had his driver’s license removed last year after he had what I believe was a minor stroke. He continued to drive after he lost his license. They just made short trips, mostly to the grocery store a few blocks away. And, I can’t say that we ever saw him drive badly. Still, we worried. We offered and offered to take them places. But, well, you know fierce independence. They rarely took us up on our offers.

The other day, in a rare recess of sunshine, I called Shirley to meet me at the back fence to give her some of the white bean gratin with greens & ham that Steve had made the previous night. While making our back-fence-exchange of food and empty dishes, she told me that “they” had decided that Frank would no longer drive. She had arranged with her previous secretary to go grocery shopping twice a week and had connected with some community service provider to take them to their various appointments. She also said that she had decided to, after she went through some retraining, to try out driving on her own again. What was unsaid was that, if she could get back to driving again, they could regain their independence.

This made me think of some things.

First, fierce independence. If you are from the Young-family origin, you know about fierce independence. It is one of our legacies. It is a wonderful thing. But it can sometimes mean just being plain stubborn.

Second, rational judgment - also, a good thing to have in life. We are all getting older and sometimes you have to decide that you can no longer do the things you used to do. These are markers that punctuate our lives, whether we like them or not. I remember when Steve said he would no longer downhill ski. (He has had two knee surgeries.) I remember when I decided I would no longer run. (As his orthopedic surgeon said, “We love runners.”) I remember when Dad decided that he and Mom would sell their RV as they could no longer continue their regular summer odysseys cross-country. This seemed to be the right choice for the time. At other times, maybe acting on a whim is just the right thing to do.

And, thirdly, I thought about reconsideration. Shirley is reconsidering her choice about driving and I, frankly, see no reason why she shouldn’t. This last summer, Dad & Mom reconsidered their choice about not going to North Carolina for the annual family get-together and, in the end, decided to go after all.

But, enough thinking. Let’s move to the food. If you want a real comforting dish to survive whatever rains are plummeting upon you, try this white bean gratin. You can add the optional ham bone or the rind from a hunk of parmesan cheese for extra flavor. (We save these in our freezer to add to soups or bean dishes.) If you want a vegetarian version, omit the ham and use parmesan and vegetable broth or water instead of a meat broth.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Things, and enjoy your back-fence relationships.


White Bean Gratin with Greens & Ham
Yield: about six main course or 8-10 side dish servings

• 1 medium onion, finely chopped
• 3-4 garlic cloves, minced
• 4 Tbs olive oil
• 2 cups dried flageolet, cannelloni, or great northern white beans
• 6 cups unsalted chicken, beef, or vegetable broth, preferably home made
• Bouquet garni, composed of what you may have on hand but could include a handful of parsley sprigs, a bay leaf, a couple of sage leaves, and several thyme sprigs – (or use dried herbs but double wrap the cheesecloth if using dried.)
• Optional ham bone or reserved rind of a hunk of parmesan cheese
• A mess-o-fresh-greens – enough to be a couple of cups of cooked greens when chopped (kale, collard, chard, mustard greens, escarole, or spinach) or a couple of packages of frozen greens
• 1 – 1 ½ cups drained canned chopped tomatoes
• 1 ½ cups coarsely chopped ham (not deli-style)
• Salt & pepper to taste
• 2 cups fresh bread crumbs from good quality bread
• 1/3 cup grated parmesan cheese (optional)
• ½ tsp coarsely ground black pepper

Sauté onions and garlic in 2 Tbs of the olive oil until translucent. Add the beans, broth, bouquet garni, and optional ham bone or rind of parmesan cheese. Bring to a simmer and cook gently over low heat until beans are barely done. Depending upon the type of bean and the freshness of the bean, this may take up to 1 ½ hours. Stir beans occasionally, adding additional broth or water as needed to keep the mixture from getting dry. Final product should be loose but not overly liquid.

Meanwhile, if using fresh greens, either boil the greens (if using tougher greens like kale or collards) or sauté the greens (if using softer greens like chard, mustard greens, escarole, or spinach.) Cook until done. Drain and chop coarsely. If using frozen greens, bring to a thaw, drain, and chop coarsely if needed.

Heat the oven to about 350 degrees. Add tomato and chopped ham to bean mixture. Cook for about fifteen minutes. Remove bouquet garni and optional ham bone or parmesan rind. Mix in cooked or thawed greens and cook until warm. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Mix together the bread crumbs with remaining olive oil and black pepper in a small bowl. Add optional parmesan cheese to the crumb mixture. Spread bean mixture into a large gratin or baking dish. Top with crumbs. Bake for about 30 minutes until surface is golden brown.

Sunday, February 19, 2006 -- Designer Eyes

“Hey, I’d like your advice on something. Would you like to come over for dinner and take another look at the plans for this fence?” This was the call to my sister Pat and, you know, it is truly great to have a relative in the area who is also a designer. We all have our own gifts, skills, abilities, things-we shine-in, etc. Sometimes, we are aware of what our gifts are and, perhaps more importantly, what our gifts are not. And this I know. There are folks out there, definitely including Pat and Cathy, who have special “designer eyes” that I just don’t have. (Me, I can sit down and talk to someone with schizophrenia without batting an eye. But that particular skill didn’t really help with this current dilemma.) In this case, an exchange of “designer eyes” for a dinner seemed like a pretty good deal.

Here’s the background. When we moved into this house, we had our whole yard re-landscaped (primarily to get rid of any lawn whatsoever.) A key component of the final rendition was a line of bamboo, fronting a small patio, which screened our front yard from our neighbors and from the street. This bamboo was planted in a buried container which was supposed to keep it enclosed. But, it eventually escaped and started popping up in our neighbor Shirley’s rose bed and in our own yard as well. So, it had to go.

It didn’t look to be such an easy matter to replace such a great visual screen in the yard. I called up the guy who did the landscape design and he got this other guy who does metal work to come out and look at it. The general idea was to create what would look like a three-section Japanese-looking screen out of metal to replace the bamboo. (Although I had referred to it as a “fence,” it’s really more of a structure that would look interesting from the street plus provide the visual screen rather than function as a fence.)

So the first plan came in and we had Pat look at that. Pat’s input had been precise and inspired. This got passed on to the metal guy who then came up with this second plan. It was this second plan sitting on my table that prompted the phone call to Pat.

Here’s what the general idea of the second plan looked like. The three sections composing the screen would be set into the ground forming a gentle “zee-shape” – just as a Japanese screen would look. Each section is composed of steel slats woven both vertically and horizontally. The slats running vertically would be is 4 inches apart. The spaces between the slats running horizontally would gradually increase as you proceed from the top to the bottom. At the top, the spaces between the horizontal slats would be 2” X 4”. At the bottom, the spaces would be 8” X 4”.

My main question was with this spacing. I was thinking that the top of the sections should have wider spaces (because that would let more light through) and that the spaces at the bottom should be narrower. This was the question I wanted to pose to Pat.

So, over she came on Wednesday night. It was dark when she got here but out we went anyway. The place in question is in our front yard and borders our neighbor to the south. Our neighbor, like pretty much all of the yards in our neighborhood, has opted for lawn in her front yard. The front edge of her yard curves up at about a 40 degree slope. Now, here’s Pat – all dressed up from work wearing sensible, but seriously fashionable, shoes. Plus, now she is also carrying a glass of wine.

First, I posed the question. And, here’s the thing. She doesn’t even wait a beat in responding. There’s no thoughtful “hmmmm.” There’s no “That’s an idea.” There’s no looking at it from different angles with chin in hand. She just immediately announces “No, that would make it top-heavy.” Okay. That was settled.

But, then she starts pondering the length and placement of the screen proposed in this second plan. So, wearing her seriously fashionable shoes and carrying glass of wine in hand, she simply STRIDES up that slope of our neighbor’s lawn with long powerful steps and starts pacing out the distance. I mean, I’ve had to almost crawl up that slope when I was out there pruning. This was no small feat.

In five minutes tops, she has ticked out the three changes that should be made to this plan and back to the house we go. God, do I love expertise!

So, I cooked, because that is something I can do pretty well. And we had a great dinner and a fun time. We had Asian-style crab salad and a vegetable stir-fry served with black rice (sometimes called Forbidden Rice) steamed with star anise. (If you can get this type of rice and you haven’t tried it, you really should. It is absolutely gorgeous when cooked and wonderfully chewy!. You can do it plain but done with chicken stock and star anise gives a bit more flavor.) I’m including the dinner’s recipes for the crab and stir-fry below. But, I can tell you this. That dinner was well worth the sight of seeing someone do what she does so well. Kudos to Pat on this one.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Things, and appreciate the special skills we all have.

Asian Crab Salad
A variation from Food & Wine magazine, March, 2006
Yield: 4 servings

• 1 medium naval orange
• 3 Tbs vegetable oil
• 1 small bunch scallions, thinly sliced using both the whites and the lightly green sections
• 1 1/4 Tbs minced fresh ginger
• 3 Tbs sake
• 1 ¼ Tbs rice vinegar
• 2 tsp soy sauce
• 1 ½ tsp granulated sugar
• 1 ¼ pound crabmeat, picked over
• Salt & pepper

Set oven to 200 degrees. Using a vegetable peeler, thinly pare the orange zest in strips leaving the white behind. Place the peels on a baking sheet and bake for about 1 ½ hours until dry but fresh-smelling. Place the dried strips in a spice grinder and grind until a fine powder.

Heat the oil in a large nonstick skillet. Sauté the sliced scallions and ginger until soft and just starting to turn color, about 3 minutes. Add the sake, vinegar, soy sauce and sugar and cook, stirring, about one minute. Turn the heat off and add the crabmeat, tossing gently to combine. Salt & pepper to taste.

Transfer the crab to a platter and sprinkle with the dried orange peel to taste (probably won’t need it all. Save the rest in the refrigerator.)


Stir-fried Asparagus, Red Pepper and Shiitake Mushrooms
Yield: 4 servings

• 3 medium garlic, finely minced or mashed
• 2 Tbs soy sauce
• 2 Tbs chicken stock or water
• 1 Tbs sugar
• 1 ½ Tbs peanut or vegetable oil or more as needed
• 1 small red pepper (or ½ medium-large) sliced into ½ X 1 inch sections
• 12-16 shiitake mushrooms, stems removed (save for stock) and cut into ¼ inch slices
• 1 ½ lbs asparagus, cut off bottom 1 ½ inch of stems; peel remaining stems, cut stems on the diagonal into 1/3 inch slices; saving the tips whole.
• 1 Tbs minced jalapeno or Serrano chile

Mix together garlic, soy sauce, stock and sugar until combined. Set aside.

Heat 12-inch nonstick skillet over high heat until quite hot, 2-3 minutes. Add 1 ½ Tbs oil and swirl to coat pan. Add red pepper pieces and stir-fry, tossing, until done. Remove pieces from the pan and set aside.

Check for oil (probably still okay) and stir-fry the mushrooms, tossing, until done.

Check for oil (this time you might need to add some and reheat), add asparagus and stir-fry, tossing. As the color begins to change, add the minced chili peppers. Keep tossing. When asparagus are about done, add the red peppers and mushrooms back to the pan, stirring. Add the reserved mixture of garlic, soy, stock and sugar. Keep cooking and stirring until liquid is syrupy. Serve.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006 -- Financiers

“What’s that for?” Steve demanded, which, taken out of context, does sound a bit, well, testy. But, it wasn’t. It was a reasonable question more in the tone of astonishment than demanding. When he came across me fooling around in the kitchen and baking some kind of sweet things with strawberries on top, he simply posed the obvious question. Because, we don’t really eat sweet things and, although I have made some sweet things, it is usually because someone is coming over and no one was coming over on this Presidents’ Day.

So “What’s that for?” was a reasonable question, to which I replied, “I’m going to give some to Shirley and Frank and take the rest to work.”

I was making my third version of Financiers – don’t all of you Young folk just love that name! It’s French – pronounced fee-nahng-syehr. Isn’t that great! So Inspector Clousseau! Some words just sound better with a French accent.

Frankly, I had never heard of them before coming across a rendition in a recent Food & Wine magazine. So, upon some research, I learned that there are two popular French tea cakes – the Madeleine and the Financier. (Just say it again. Fee-nahng-seyr. Get that low guttural “HN” and “HR” going! Say it aloud. With gusto. Doesn’t that just sound so much better than “Madeleine” – which sounds like someone who works for some State bureaucracy somewhere?)

Well, anyway. I digress. Oh, I just can’t help it. FEE-NAHNG-SYEHR!!!!

Okay, maybe I have it out of my system now.

So the story is that I came across this recipe for Financiers (say it quietly, in your head only) the other day preparing to cook for the Bridge girls on Friday night. And, it looked interesting. It looked similar to Madeleine recipes (which I have never made and I had wanted to make this year but can I eveeeer go back to Madaleenes after FEE-NAHNG-SYEHRs!!!)

So, anyway, that particular recipe was for sweetish-style Pistachio Financiers. (I can do this. I don’t have to say it loudly with a French accent.) They were just great!

But, if you recall, one of my 2006 New Year Resolutions was to try out savory (not sweet) Madeleines. So, I took a stab at creating savory Financiers. It seemed like the right thing to do. But, they turned out just okay, not great. They deserve another try.

The whole thing would have been just a memory except that our neighbor Shirley called me to the back fence on Presidents Day. She was delivering some empty dishes from past back-fence-food-swaps plus a container of strawberries. It’s a bit early for strawberries around here but she was hankering for them and, when you hanker at her age, you just ought to go for it!

It seemed that cooking the strawberries a bit would probably be better than serving them fresh at this time of year so, once again, I thought of Fee-nahng-syehrs. (See, I didn’t yell.) I tried out a new recipe for Financiers that uses browned clarified butter (beurre noisette) and confectioners sugar, added some lemon zest, and spread some sliced strawberries on the top partway through the baking. They turned out really nicely as well and I’m including both renditions of financiers below. (At this point, I know you guys are all doing fee-nahng-syehrs in your heads!)

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Things, and go out in your neighborhood after dark and yell FEE-NAHNG-SYEHRs!


Pistachio Financiers
Adapted from Food & Wine magazine, March 2006
Yield: about 30 mini-cakes

• 1 cup whole blanched almonds
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs, beaten
• 5 Tbs butter, melted
• 3 Tbs all-purpose flour
• 30 shelled pistachios

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place rack in the center.

Butter 30 of the cups in non-stick mini muffin pans. Set aside.

In a food processor, grind the almonds until fine. In a bowl, whisk together the ground almonds and sugar. Add the eggs, whisking them until incorporated. Add the butter and then the flour, whisking in as you go.

Spoon the batter into the prepared muffin cups and top each with a pistachio. Bake until golden, 10-12 minutes. Let cool slightly, then run a knife around each cake and cool the cakes on a rack.


Strawberry Financiers
Yield: about 30 mini-cakes

• 1 cup butter
• 1 cup whole blanched almonds
• 1 ½ cup confectioners sugar
• 3 eggs, beaten
• ½ cup all-purpose flour
• 2 tsp lemon zest
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• Strawberries, thinly sliced

Make browned butter or beurre noisette by melting the butter in a heavy saucepan over low heat. Once melted, turn the heat up just a little and let it come to a boil. As it boils, a foam will appear on the surface. Keep at a low boil until the milk solids have dropped to the bottom of the pan and have turned brown. Remove from the heat and strain through cheesecloth into a liquid measuring cup. Discard the remaining solids. Set the beurre noisette aside to cool. (You will need 2/3 cup of beurre noisette for the financiers. Any extra may be used to butter the muffin pans or for other purposes.)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place rack in the center.

Butter 30 of the cups in nonstick mini muffin pans. Set aside.

In a food processor, grind the almonds until fine. In a bowl, whisk together the ground almonds and confectioners sugar. Add the eggs, whisking them until incorporated. Add 2/3 cup beurre noisette, then the flour, and then the lemon zest and vanilla extract, whisking in as you go.

Spoon the batter into the prepared muffin cups. Bake for about 3-4 minutes until just beginning to set. Remove from oven and layer the sliced strawberries across the tops of each muffin. Return to oven and cook until the pastry is golden, another 6-9 minutes. Let cool slightly, then run a knife around each cake and cool the cakes on a rack.

Saturday, February 25, 2006 -- Pizza Dough

I am under instructions.

I have to come up with a story in order to post the recipe for Steve’s pizza dough.

This morning, when stopping by our wine guy Bruce’s shop, we got to discussing pizza dough because Steve has been making some absolutely fantastic pizza dough lately. And this is where I got my instructions. From Bruce. He wanted that pizza dough recipe and he wanted it now.

Alrighty. When there’s a job to do, somebody’s got to do it. And, if there is a Young family member in the room, undoubtedly one of them will volunteer to meet the task. Am I right about that, siblings?

Well, let me just start with a preamble – theme being some of those small things in life that we should appreciate and not overlook. The time is 6:15 on Thursday morning. I’m about to start undressing to get into the shower with going to work to follow. The phone rings. “Oh-oh,” I think, “Nobody delivers good news at this hour of the morning.” I am greeted by my sister Pat’s voice who says, “I was supposed to have hot water this morning but I don’t.” (Now, in retrospect, I just love this opening. OF COURSE, you were supposed to have hot water this morning. Most of us do. This is, don’t you agree, one of those small things to appreciate in life that we so often overlook.)

Anyway, I reply, “Do you want to shower over here?” She says, “Thanks. I’m just pulling up to your house right now.” I wander downstairs and, yes, there she was – motor running at our front curb. Now, I think that is another great thing to appreciate in life. Let’s say, tomorrow, you step into that cold shower stall and there is no hot water. You have an important early morning meeting you are trying to get to. Do you have somebody close enough by that you can drive to, knowing without checking it out, that you’ll be able to shower over there without them blinking an eye? Now, that’s something to appreciate. We have that out here in Portland, Oregon and now I’ve been reminded to appreciate that as well!

But back to the main story which, in fact, isn’t much of a story anyway. Last night, Pat and our friends Joanne and Paul came over to share pizza and a movie. (Our friends Robin and Monica were unfortunately unable to join us because Robin was down with a cold and was only talking in a whisper.) Steve had made his absolutely fantastic pizza dough. I had assembled a bunch of toppings including grilled eggplant, pan-roasted asparagus, thinly sliced grilled zucchini, Italian sausage, pepperoni, prosciutto, caramelized onions, sautéed fennel, roasted red peppers, three types of cheese, and fresh basil.

Homemade pizza is just a splendid thing to do with a bunch of people. Everybody joins in and it is a jumble of activity. A choreographed series of raw pizza doughs going into the oven, coming out of the oven, each being topped by various people with their own creative versions, pies back into the oven, calls made of “Do you need any more cheese grated?,” and “I’m coming out with the next one.” All in a warm and brightly lit kitchen with a bunch of people jockeying around for positions. All seeming a bit chaotic but coming out perfectly in the end.

So we had great pizza with the help of everybody assembled. We watched a movie and then some Olympic figure skating. Folks went home happy & full. You just can’t get better than that!

So, Steve’s version of pizza dough is below along with his hints for perfection. I’ve fulfilled my duty and, along the way, remembered some things to appreciate.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Things, and have a pizza party of your own.


Pizza Dough
A variation from Ruth Reichl’s The Gourmet Cookbook
Yield: one 14 inch pizza or two 9 inch pizza pies

• 2 ¼ tsp instant yeast
• About 1 ¾ cups unbleached all-purpose flour, plus additional for kneading and dredging
• ¾ cup warm water (105-115 degrees)
• 1 ½ tsp salt
• 1 ½ tsp plus 1 ½ Tbs olive oil
• 1 Tbs crushed garlic (optional)
• Additional 1 cup water
• spray bottle filled with water
• Selected toppings of your choice

Using instant yeast, one does not have to proof the dough. Just chuck the yeast, 1 ¼ cup flour, water, salt and 1 ½ tsp olive oil into a heavy-duty mixer with a dough hook. Mix on medium speed for about 6 minutes. The consistency you want is having the dough come away from the sides but not the bottom. If too wet to reach this consistency (very likely) add flour little by little until it does. Once you get this consistency, the dough should pass the windowpane test, i.e. take a small piece of dough and stretch it between thumb and forefinger. If you can make it almost transparent, like a windowpane, it passed. If not, continue to mix for about two more minutes and don’t worry about it. (The dough will be wetter than other pizza dough you may have made.)

Place the dough in an oiled bowl and tightly cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm draft-free place until doubled in bulk, about 1 ¼ hours.

In the meantime, prepare the oven. Put oven racks in the highest and lowest positions. If you have bricks or a pizza stone, put them on the lowest rack. If you don’t have bricks or a stone, put a cookie sheet or an inverted jelly-roll pan on the lower rack. On the top rack, put a jelly-roll pan right side up. About thirty minutes before you are ready to cook the pizzas, preheat the oven to 550 degrees or as high as your oven goes.

Mix together the remaining 1 ½ Tbs olive oil and crushed garlic and set aside.

Once the dough has risen, do not punch it down. Carefully dredge dough in a bowl of flour to coat and transfer to dry work surface. Holding one edge of dough in the air with both hands and letting bottom touch work surface, carefully move hands around edge of dough (like turning a steering wheel), allowing weight of dough to stretch round to roughly 10 inches.

Put a large sheet of parchment paper on a cookie sheet and lightly flour it. Lay dough flat out on this surface and continue to work edges with fingers, stretching into a 14-inch round or into the shape of whatever state you like. (Montana is good, Idaho is bad.) Brush the top of the dough with the olive oil-garlic mixture. Slide dough (parchment paper and all) onto the stone or the cookie sheet. Carefully pour the remaining cup of water into the jelly-roll pan on the top oven rack. (Be careful of the steam.) Using the spray bottle, spray the walls of the oven with water. Bake for 3-4 minutes, until a little browning occurs on the bottom center of the dough. (You can use tongs to lift the dough up to check.)

Remove from the oven and flip over. Brush with more olive oil mixture. Top with whatever toppings you choose and slide back into oven. (You probably won’t need the parchment paper anymore. The dough will just lay on the stone or pan.) Bake until done – 5 minutes or so depending on the toppings and your preference. Start checking after about 3 minutes or when the smoke alarm goes off.

NOTE: It is easy to double or triple this recipe to make more than one pizza or to freeze some dough for later. We usually do. (A triple recipe makes four good-sized pizzas.) After the dough has risen, cut the dough into separate pieces using a dough scraper or sharp knife. If you plan to freeze some pieces, wrap in plastic wrap and, when thawed, shape them and proceed.

Thursday, March 23, 2006 -- Le Creuset

“It’s maybe one last time for Le Creuset for the season,” observed Bruce looking out the window when we made our Saturday stop at his wine shop. “Any day with Le Creuset is a good day!” he added. It was cool, blustery, and rainy outside and he, of course, was referring to that great French line of enameled cast iron cookware called Le Creuset. And, I knew exactly what he was talking about. Let me tell you my history with Le Creuset.

Steve and I were hunched outside of a local store called Kitchen Kaboodle early one January 1st of sometime in the early 1990’s for their annual first-of-the-year sale. It’s dark cold, and probably 6:45 a.m. The doors were to open at 7:00 a.m. We are not the first in line but are within the first half dozen. People are stamping their feet and moving around, trying to keep warm. Sales clerks are milling around inside. We, on the outside, are looking longingly into the warmth and the light. Finally, a brave soul unlocks the front door and we tumble inside, all of us seemingly headed out in purposeful directions on our own pre-planned missions.

Frankly, I don’t remember if I had a mission that day or what it was if I had one. I do remember this. I came across this great mammoth of a pan. It was a 6 quart white Le Creuset round pan with accompanying lid – what Le Creuset calls a French Oven. It stood about six inches tall and spanned 11 inches across. It weighed 13 pounds. This was a hefty pan. This was a pan for slow-cooked braises if I ever saw one. This was, and is, a pan that belongs to the winter and these early cool springs. I fell in love at first sight and, plus, it was on sale for $100. At the time, it was selling for about $150. (Currently, you can get one for about $200 on-line.) Yes, these are hefty prices. But this is a pan-for-life. This is a pan you practically marry. We snatched it up!

I was, and still am, in love with our Le Creuset pan. From the beginning, I called it our “Hundred dollar-Hundred pound” pan. When we go off on vacation to a beach house or a mountain resort with friends, we always schlep our “hundred dollar-hundred pound” pan with us. It’s perfect for such weekends that typically demand cooking for a crowd. But, we also use it regularly for home cooking for, what we call, “cooking for the neighborhood” meaning that we, ONCE again, cooked WAY too much and might as well invite the neighborhood in. (Although we never do.)

The first time I came across someone else who voiced the same sentiment for their Le Creuset pan was with Joanne’s mom, Virginia. Sometime early on after we purchased our pan, Virginia was over at our house for dinner and we made something-or-other in Le Creuset. We were all in the kitchen, cooking, sipping wine and she said, almost wistfully, “Yes, I have a pan like that. I’ve had it for years. It’s old. The enamel is all worn away now.” It was like one would talk about their beloved, but now decrepit pet. Weirdly, at the time, I thought to myself, “My pan will never lose its enamel!” This, in retrospect, is that same magical thinking you have when you are young and think you will never grow old.

Well, my pan is old now but it is still holding it’s own. The enamel is worn-down, but it doesn’t seem to matter. When I pull this pan out of the cupboard, I feel a great sense of satisfaction. It’s going to get filled up with all kinds of great things. Maybe first a slow saute of stuff like onions, garlic, leeks, maybe peppers. Or maybe first a deep browning of some piece of meat. Either or both of these will be followed with some type of liquid and seasonings and then cooked for likely a long time until the flavors meld and the ingredients are meltingly tender. We will then enjoy some delectable treat. It just seems like all is right with the world.

Probably, I’ve known other people who have shared similar feelings for their Le Creuset pans since the time Virginia first opined about hers. But, for whatever reason, it never came up in conversation. Then, a few weeks ago on an earlier visit to Bruce’s, he mentioned his plans to use his Le Creuset on a similarly cold, blustery day. I can’t recall what he was to cook then, but I do recall my immediate understanding for the feeling of whatever he was to cook. This past weekend, his plan was to braise lamb shanks for a group of friends. As he shared his plan, I looked at Steve and said, “Maybe it’s time for us to get something out of the freezer for tomorrow.”

Nestled in our freezer was a blade chuck roast that we had nabbed a few weeks earlier on sale. Our inspiration for this purchase was an absolutely fabulous roasted meat dish that Eric had served us earlier this year for dinner at their house. I, frankly, had never been satisfied with chuck roasts I had cooked before. They tasted dry and flavorless. Not like Mom’s chuck roast of my memory as a kid. Sure, I knew she used canned mushroom soup, but I did not think that was the secret ingredient. I had decided that what I needed was a piece of meat that was very marbled and even fatty-looking. So that’s what we chose at the market and that’s what we pulled out of our freezer for cooking last Sunday.

So Le Creuset came out for Sunday dinner and this chuck roast turned out really nicely. I’ve included the recipe we used below.

Just one more little bit of trivia about Le Creuset. If you really want to cook for a crowd, you can actually purchase 13 ¼ quart French Oven for about $350 on-line! So I’m thinking that baby will weigh in close to 30 pounds. (Guess you’ll need to add on some shipping charges to that cost.)

The weather is just beginning to turn here. I did hear today that Portland may exceed its record of the number of days of rain for the month of March. Still, daffodils are blooming. Cherry trees are colorful statues of seasonal glory. And there is a hint of green among the stagnate shrubs and trees. Not too many days left for Le Creuset! Enjoy your last braisings!

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Stuff, and bring out your own favorite winter pan for a final show!


Beef Burgundy with Noodles
A variation from Ruth Reichl’s The Gourmet Cookbook
Yield: serves 8

• ¼ lb thick-sliced bacon, cut into 1/3 inch lardons
• A 3 pound blade chuck roast, bone-in
• Salt & pepper
• 1 ½ Tbs vegetable oil
• 2 ½ Tbs butter
• ½ cup brandy
• 4 fresh parsley sprigs
• 4 fresh thyme sprigs
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 sage sprig or 3 large sage leaves
• a 4 inch celery stalk piece
• 3 cloves
• 2 onions finely chopped
• 2 carrots, peeled, and diced into ¼ inch pieces
• 6 garlic cloves finely chopped
• 1 Tbs tomato paste
• 1 (750 milliliter) bottle dry red wine, preferably Burgundy or Cotes du Rhone
• A package of extra wide egg noodles
• Chopped parsley for garnish (optional)

Immerse bacon in boiling water for 2-3 minutes to remove excess fat. Set aside to drain.

Pat beef dry then liberally salt & pepper it lightly rubbing the seasoning into the meat.

Heat the vegetable oil and 1 ½ Tbs butter in your Le Creuset, or other large, heavy braising pan on medium-high heat until hot but not smoking. Add the beef and let the first side brown into a crust without moving it around. Flip, and brown the second side. Transfer to a platter.

Pour off any excess oil. Add the brandy to the pan and deglaze the pan stirring and scraping up the brown bits from the bottom for about 1 minute. Pour over beef.

Tie the parsley, thyme, bay, sage, celery and cloves together with kitchen string to make a bouquet garni (stick cloves into the celery stalk to keep from falling out.)

Heat remaining 1 Tbs butter in Le Creuset until melted over medium heat. Add onions and carrots and cook, stirring about 3 minutes. Then add garlic and cook, stirring about another 2 minutes until onions are pale golden and the aroma is redolent of garlic. Add tomato paste along with the reserved bacon and cook, stirring, another minute. Add meat with its juices, the bouquet garni, and pour the wine over it all. Bring to a simmer and simmer gently, partially covered, until meat is tender, 3 ½ - 4 hours.

When meat is done, transfer it to a cutting board and tent with aluminum foil. Pour the remaining liquid through a strainer, pushing on the solid materials with the back of a spoon. Let the fat rise to the top and remove by your favorite method. Return the liquid to the pan and, depending upon the amount left, you may want to cook it down a little. Meanwhile, cook the egg noodles until almost done and slice the meat into serving pieces. When noodles are ready, drain and add to the remaining liquid in the pan. Cook, stirring, until combined and noodles finish cooking. Transfer noodles and sauce to a serving platter and top with meat pieces and optional parsley.

April 12, 2006 – Nicknames

BEVE!!!

This is pronounced “Beeve” and it rhymes with “Steve” and perhaps could be spelled “Beav” but, in any case, it was the nickname that young Noah, son of Cathy and Seth, gave to Steve during our recent visit to Atlanta. The spelling of the name was left unclear, but the permanence of the moniker was not. Steve was “Beve” all weekend and was thus so frequently summoned to one activity or another by the ever-active Noah who, incidentally, was nicknamed “Nomar” by Steve after a famous baseball player.

Beve and Nomar did chess problems. They did crossword puzzles. They did Sudoku and Word Jumbles. They read the comic papers together. They played basketball, baseball, did math problems, watched TV, read books, and just talked. And throughout this flurry of activities, they were periodically joined by Lucas and Sam, sons of Jennifer and Trevor, as well as the rest of us adults on that weekend visit. But, from my perspective, being the wife of Steve, Beve and Noah were quite the pair.

Nicknames. Some people just get them. You see, nicknames have to be given to you by someone else. You cannot give them to yourself. You cannot ask for one. They are an impromptu gift. They just spontaneously erupt from the universe. Some nicknames seem to float by but don’t stick. But a true nickname, once spoken, sticks to the intended like Velcro.

Some people are born nick-namers. Nicknames just pop out of these peoples’ mouths like popcorn. As do other play-on-words – made-up words or word combinations that are used to denote any number of things, concepts, or activities. Creative language-play is their artistic palette. Dennis, Noah’s grandfather, is such a person and Noah is seemingly such a person as well.

Some people attract nicknames. Our friend Eric has earned at least two true nicknames – the most recent one that I know of being “Savant.” Sure, he has a life passion that, apparently, requires nicknames. He hikes big trails - like the Continental Divide, taking months and months to accomplish this goal. It is, I have learned, the convention of such big trail-hikers to use what are called “trail names” which are, in effect, just another term for a nickname. These big trail hikers meet people along the way and, instead of using real names (perhaps because they don’t know for sure that they want to share their real name as yet), use “trail names.” But, again, these trail names must be, in the true tradition of nicknames, given to them by others beforehand. They are earned. And, once applied, they have to stick in order to become a true nickname.

I did get a nickname in Atlanta. I was denoted “D-Bass.” But, I have to say, and here is where Steve and I disagree, I am not really sure it is a true nickname. You see, from my point of view, Steve improvised this name because he had been spontaneously given the name of Beve, and he knew I secretly coveted a true nickname, so he extended himself and made up a nickname for me. He says that it is still a true nickname but I am not so sure. Like I said, nicknames have to erupt from the universe. One can’t intentionally improvise one even if one has the best of intentions. But, he says it still counts, so we will see.

Anyway, nicknamed or nickname-less, I do know that I remain a cook. And cook we did in Atlanta enjoying it all the while. We were a crowd that weekend. Along with the Atlanta denizens of Seth, Cathy, Noah, Jennifer, Trev, Sam & Lucas as well as Trev’s sister and brother, we were joined by Diana, Dennis and Trev’s mother & father.

On Saturday, Steve made his now-famous pizzas along with the help of Trev’s mother and sister inventively topping each one in turn. Then, on Sunday, we used the leftover toppings to make a large frittata. (Or, as Noah called it, a “frittatee.”)

A frittata is a wonderful thing to make for a crowd, a great way to use up a whole host of leftover ingredients, and a perfect Sunday night supper at the end of a weekend shared with others. This classic Italian egg dish is very similar to the Spanish version called a “Tortilla” but generally gets a little more creative. You can use just about anything for a filling in a frittata. Your imagination and what’s left over in the refrigerator can be your only guides. Of course, you do have to have eggs, and often some type of cheese is a good idea. You do need an oven-proof skillet, preferably non-stick, because a frittata is finished off in the oven. But, beyond that, there are no rules. I mean, you could throw in leftover Chinese take-out if you want – although you might want to skip the cheese in that case.

Our frittata included garlicky roast potatoes that I had cooked until nicely browned, caramelized onions, sautéed mushrooms, sautéed red peppers, a bunch of chopped parsley & basil, crumbled sausage, and it was topped with mozzarella and parmesan cheeses. I’m not going to burden you with a recipe here. There is no perfect recipe. This is all you do.

Frittata

• Assemble your fillings. Chop them up as needed. Some fillings should be pre-cooked; e.g. if you are going to put in onions, sauté them first in the pan you plan to use. Garlic, the same. Red peppers and mushrooms should probably be cooked a little as well. And, of course, any uncooked meats, such as sausage. So, put a little butter and olive oil in your pan and saute those fillings that need to be pre-cooked. Have the rest of the fillings, at-ready to add after you pour the eggs in the pan.
  
  
• Whisk together eggs and a little milk product along with salt and pepper. The number of eggs you use will depend on the quantity of your fillings and how big your pan is. In Atlanta, we used a huge pan and there were about ten adults plus kids to eat the frittata. I used about fifteen eggs. In the smaller pan I use at home, I generally use 10-12. You want to end up with a final product that, including fillings and eggs, will stand about 1 ½ - 2 inches tall.
  
  
• Add the eggs to the heated pan and begin cooking at medium-low heat. Add the remaining filling ingredients distributing them evenly across and throughout the frittata using a spatula. You can add the cheese at this point as well, or save some to add to the top before putting in the oven. With the spatula, gently lift up the cooked egg at the edges allowing the uncooked egg to seep into the bottom of the pan, angling the pan up slightly to facilitate this process.
  
  
• Once the edges are set, the middle is no longer runny, and you can smell that the bottom has started to brown a little, remove the pan to a heated oven on a middle rack. You can choose to either broil the frittata to finish it off or bake it at about 350 degrees. The former will be shorter, and you will get a browner top, but does require more vigilance.
  
  
• The amount you cook the frittata in the oven will depend upon which method you choose and how “done” it was before you put it in the oven. Once done, the frittata will look firm and will have some browning on the top. Remove the pan from the oven. Loosen the edges with a spatula. Place a movable flat surface on top of the pan. (At home, I generally use a round cutting board. In Atlanta, we improvised with a baking sheet.) Wearing oven mitts, firmly grasp the pan on both sides holding the movable flat surface in place as well. Quickly flip the pan over, and if all goes well, you have this perfect-looking round thing with a gloriously brown top. The bottom crust created in the cooking process is now your top. This is where the non-stick pan comes in handy. If you did not use a non-stick pan (as was the case in Atlanta), you may have some of that bottom crust stuck to the pan leaving a less desirable looking top. In this case, salvage what is worth salvaging from the bottom of the pan filling in any holes left on the top. Place another movable flat surface over the frittata and flip again. Now, the original top of your frittata is, once again, your top.
  
  
• Let it sit for about 10 minutes. Cut into wedges and serve.

There you have it. That’s all there is.

Eat Well, Enjoy the Small Things, and clean out your refrigerator this Sunday night with your own unique frittata.

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© 2005, 2006 Deborah Young