FOOD ON THE FOOD

To Market, To Market

That was quite a winter farmer’s market out in Wayland on Saturday. Wow. Picture, if you dare, what the Russell’s parking lot looks like during the first warm week of spring and that should give you an idea of the kind of numbers we’re talking about. People were commenting about the crowds and someone noted, “The Globe ran an article last week.” Somebody else chimed in, “Yeah, and some lady wrote about it on her blog.” What? Who? Well, lots of people have been writing about it on their blogs lately, not just me, but I slipped away from the group and around the corner to the relative safety of the gelato stand just in case. (Gelato Guy has the potential to be my new best friend though he doesn’t know it, yet.)

This is not to dissuade anyone from going. It was all perfectly civilized. That it was so successful is a very good sign, both in terms of support for local farmers as well as local businesses. Judging by the activity at the registers, Russell’s was benefiting from this brilliant collaboration as well (I still have my eye on a particular kite). Also, I don’t know if this was part of the regular gig or not, but there were lots of tables with yarn and pretty knitted things for sale, which made a lot of sense given the farm-oriented theme. The Preschooler enjoyed looking at the angora rabbits and touching the fluffy heaps of wool in the display baskets.

As far as food, there was soup to sample and honey to buy, grass-feed beef from Springdell Farm in Littleton, fresh seafood from Globe Fish, apples from Groton, and tons of beautiful vegetables. Red Fire Farm in Granby had pretty much every root vegetable you could think of, plus garlic and kale. E and T Farms had lovely salad and micro greens that they grow hydroponically on their Cape Cod koi farm. Winter Moon Organic Farm in Hadley had parsnips, celery root, and watermelon radishes. Then I saw they were also selling organic popcorn AND POLENTA, and my budget was shot.

I cannot emphasize enough the moral-boosting properties of going to a market in a lush, heated greenhouse in the dead of winter. Makes you feel like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. A big, warm, potentially-cancer-causing-but-simultan-eously-life-giving ball of light. I forgot my camera, but there are some nice photographs of the market up at Serious Eats with a write-up by Penny at BostonZest. I wonder what other kinds of community partnerships like this could be forged?

Only three more shopping weeks left!

Just Keeping It Real Around Here

I hear people are worried that I might actually bare a breast at some point in this sacred space we call my blog. Fear not. Given what I know about myself, I think the odds are highly stacked against that. A part of me still wants to believe I’m badass enough to do it, so if you could just continue to play along, I would appreciate it.

Things on the cooking front have been less than inspiring this week, with one kid recovering from strep and the other one coming down with it, and me only a week out of surgery. I never quite made it to the grocery store (save my trip to Codman for the fish delivery), so we were working with a barren pantry and the dregs of the crisper. Dinner one night consisted of fried rice made with some ratty old turnips and a hopeful heap of curry powder. The next night was pasta and salad. Then more pasta and salad, this time with a side of fresh fish. Words cannot express how very uninterested I was in gutting 5 grey sole that day, but the reward was a fish that tasted absolutely delicious when sautéed in nothing more than olive oil.

Last night’s dinner was pita pizza, my fallback when we’re out of hotdogs. I made the kids their favorite: cheese, no sauce, hold the toppings. It evolved through trial and error over several weeks with me coming up with various creative combinations and the kids eliminating at least one ingredient until there was nothing left but cheese melted on bread. Whatever. I’m too beaten down to care. Then I made one with sauce and sausage for Husband, and a sauceless version for me with caramelized onions, mozzarella, goat cheese, and rosemary.

Actually, the last one adds up to more than the sum of its parts, and I would recommend it for your winter pizza repertoire. Just sauté an onion in olive oil on low for about 20 minutes with a pinch of salt and sugar (2 onions for a regular-sized pizza). Sprinkle some mozzarella on the pita (often, I put a little cheddar on there, too), pile on the onions, dot with goat cheese, sprinkle with rosemary and black pepper. Bake 8 minutes or so in a hot oven. Drizzle with a tiny bit of extra virgin olive oil while it cools. Around here, you can make it with all local ingredients, too. I use the large pita pockets from Bay State Bakery in Worcester because they stay thin and crispy the way I can’t seem to make my own pizza crusts come out.

Ah well. Next week is another week.

But My Ribs Are Real

So everything went fine with my “procedure” last week, in case you were wondering. My expectations, admittedly, were pretty low. The initial conversation with the plastic surgeon went something like, "Can you just slap something up there that’s moderately convincing. Something that will stay put, instead of shimmying up and out of the neck hole of my shirt while I’m talking to my neighbors, Jesus Christ.”

But it turns out that the man has an artistic streak, a masterful grasp of subtlety and restraint that you don’t see too much evidence of on the market these days. It took me by surprise because I’m pretty sure we didn’t hit it off the first time we met. Probably because I just assumed he was surgically altering me with his eyes the minute he walked in the room, sowing potential seeds of self-doubt to ensure future business, causing me to become instantly hostile and defensive. Nevertheless, I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong and I may have been a little bit…you know, wrong about him. Maybe. Potentially.

Anyway, his good work isn't suitable for viewing, yet, so how about some ribs instead?

Sticky Asian Spareribs

Let marinate overnight for maximum flavor. Parboiling the ribs keeps the cooking time in the oven to under an hour.

3½ lbs. pork spareribs
½ cup hoisin sauce
3½ Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. rice wine, white wine, or sake
1½ Tbsp. minced garlic
1½ Tbsp. minced fresh ginger
Pinch or two of dried red pepper flakes, more if you like them spicy
1 tsp. toasted sesame oil
½ Tbsp. sugar
2 Tbsp. sliced scallion greens

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. With a sharp knife or kitchen shears, separate the spareribs into 2½-inch-long pieces. Add the ribs to the pot and return to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and simmer 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a large bowl, whisk together hoisin sauce, soy sauce, wine, garlic, ginger, red pepper flakes, sesame oil, and sugar. Remove the ribs, let cool slightly, then add to the marinade. Toss lightly to coat and cover with plastic wrap. Let the ribs marinate in the fridge for at least 3 hours or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Place the spareribs and marinade on a sheet pan lined with foil, and bake for 30 minutes. Flip the ribs and bake them another 15 minutes or so until the meat is tender and the glaze is sticky but not burnt. Sprinkle with sliced scallions. Original recipe says to serve with roasted winter squash, which you can bake alongside the ribs on a separate pan, cut-side down, until tender. Serves 4-6.

Source: Adapted from A Spoonful of Ginger by Nina Simonds.

Local Ingredients:
Ribs: Chestnut Farms, Hardwick, MA
Butternut squash: Waltham Fields, Waltham, MA

Boooooooooobs!

It’s very convenient that breasts are food-related. That way, when I feel like talking about mine, which is pretty much never, I can do so without breaking theme. In fact, this blog could have been 100% boobs all the time and no one could convict me of exploiting the female form. I really feel I’ve missed out on an important marketing opportunity, not to mention a chance to really connect with my male readership.

I only bring this up because I go for reconstructive surgery tomorrow and posting may be spotty for the next week. In layman’s terms, that means boob job. Yes, I know I’ve made fun of boob jobs several times on this blog that I can recall. Have you noticed that every time I make a joke about something, I then have to go and eat my words in a very humbling fashion? It’s almost like somebody’s trying to teach me a lesson. But that somebody is going to be very distracted from their lesson-teaching when they get a load of my giant new boob!!!

Just kidding. It’s not going to be giant (despite Husband’s enthusiastic lobbying). What the hell am I going to do with one giant boob? Sounds like an awful lot of unwanted attention if you ask me. I know the jury is still out on the long-term health implications of breast implants, and I don’t really consider them to be a fabulous idea, but do you know what I like even less? The constant reminder of cancer. What can I say? Life is just a series of justifications for your hypocritical behavior.

So, to welcome my new bionic boob, I made cookies. Special, celebratory cookies.

The nipples, of course, are optional.

This is a great cookie recipe I pulled from Molly Wizenberg’s A Homemade Life. It’s easy enough for kids to make, it rolls out perfectly for cookie cutters of all shapes and sizes, and the resulting buttery, shortbread-like texture is quite satisfying for all ages. The cream cheese frosting is barely cherry-scented with kirsch, and two drops of red food coloring give it the palest hint of pink, making it perfect for Valentine’s Day. Or, if you’re not the frosting type, roll out the cookies thinner, and sandwich a layer of dulce de leche in between for Argentinian-style alfajores.

And in a few weeks, depending on how things go, I’m thinking I might enact that 100% Boobs All The Time policy on this blog. There will still be food, of course, just food in the vicinity of boobs. Boobs with biscuits. Boobs with soup. Boobs giving away the temperature of all the outdoor shots. I think I’m going to be getting a lot more compliments on my photography. Let the traffic spike begin!

Pink Cookies

You can flavor and color the frosting however you like. Don’t feel limited to the most hideous color known to man.

Dough
3 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
3 cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Frosting
8 oz. cream cheese, room temperature
6 Tbsp. unsalted butter, room temperature
3 cups powdered sugar, sifted
1¼ tsp. kirsch, or more to taste
Red food coloring

For cookies, combine the butter and sifted powdered sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Beat until light and fluffy, starting out very slowly so the sugar doesn’t fly everywhere, and gradually increasing speed. In a medium bowl, mix together the flour and salt. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture to the butter mixture, beating until the flour is just absorbed. Add the vanilla and beat well to incorporate. Lay a large sheet of plastic wrap on the counter and turn the dough out onto it. Gather the dough into a ball and press into a thick disk. Wrap well and refrigerator for 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 325°F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. On a clean, floured surface, roll the dough to a thickness of ¼- to ½-inch. (Breaking the dough into two pieces makes it easier to manage.) Cut shapes with cookie cutters or drinking glass. Place the cookies on prepared baking sheets, spacing them an inch apart. Bake one sheet at a time for 16-20 minutes, or until the cookies are pale golden at the edge. Do not allow them to brown. Transfer pan to wire rack and allow cookies to cool completely on pan.

To make the frosting, wash your mixer bowl and paddle. Combine cream cheese and butter in the bowl and beat with the paddle on medium speed until smooth. Add the powdered sugar and beat on low to fully incorporate, then raise speed to medium, beating until there are no lumps, scraping down the sides of the bowl with a rubber scraper as needed. Add the kirsch and a few drops of red food coloring and beat well. I like the frosting barely pink, but feel free to add more food coloring and kirsch to taste. Spread thickly over cookies. They will keep in the refrigerator for 3 days, and can be frozen. Makes about 2 dozen.

Source: Adapted from Jimmy’s recipe in A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg. I hope he would approve of my interpretation.

Possibly Still Drunk

Today’s post was supposed to be about a pie I made yesterday for National Pie Day. However, my pie came out all soupy-like and so we’ll have to save that recipe for National Soup Day, whenever that is. Anybody?

So instead I’m going to share with you a party idea because I’ve been to two awesome parties in all of 7 days, and it turns out parties are fun!! Which is too bad because I’ve already filled my quota for the year. Oh well.

Last night’s neighborhood party was originally billed as a “Winter Food Festival and Musicale,” which sounded really scary to me, the “musicale” part at least, like I might be required to sing, dance, or some frightening combination thereof, possibly with some sort of squash involvement. I think the last time I did those things together was in the chorus of a middle school production of Annie Get Your Gun in which I was dressed up as an “Indian” and we shan’t speak any more of that incident.

Luckily, when enough people threatened not to show up to last night’s event, the theme evolved into more of a talent show. Or talentless talent show—you decide. You got to pick your “talent,” the sillier the better, but everyone had to take the stage for 60 seconds. Talents ran the gamut from actual talents to “only when you’re drunk” types of talents, but what I learned is: a) humiliating yourself in front of strangers is a great ice-breaker; b) it’s true what they say, that everybody is a unique snowflake carved by space and time in delightfully unpredictable ways; and c) rolling up your rug for the occasion is a good idea unless you want whipped cream spilled all over it.

Some highlights of the night: A hilarious interpretation of “I Cain’t Say No” from Oklahoma!, a tap-dancing demonstration, a poetry reading, magic tricks, a pasta-making demo, an improv stand-up bit, a rousing rendition of “Lonely House” from Street Scene with piano accompaniment, speed-cartooning, beer-tasting, juggling, an unbelievably ballsy male striptease that fell mercifully short of unveiling any actual balls. There was a pavlova-assembly demonstration, complete with a very messy battle between the culinary school graduates to see who could whisk up some whipped cream the fastest. (In the battle between the CIA v. Cambridge School of Culinary Arts, can you guess who won?) One of the hosts even played a round with himself on the recorder, ventriloquist-style. Things wound down with some blues guitar and a lovely version of "Blackbird."

Even I, hardly a showman, managed to pull off a killer card trick. That is, until everyone plied the secrets out of me later on in the evening with alcohol and flattery. At next year’s party, I will fool no one. Oh, and there was food, too. How could I forget? Pot pie and grits and mint juleps. Some sort of yummy pomegranate concoction. Apparently everyone in attendance was multi-talented because the food was excellent, too. So if you want to throw a fun party, I highly recommend something like this.

Fish Three Ways, Part 3

Boy, my photography has really gone downhill. I thought it couldn’t sink any lower, but I was wrong. And speaking of sinking, here’s our last fish recipe of the series. We’ve explored Italian and Indian flavors, and now it’s time for Asian. This recipe is fresh and bright with bursts of ginger, lime, and cilantro. Served over rice with stir-fried snow peas, sticky green beans, or sesame carrots, it’s a nice dish that I’ve kept in rotation for years.

Oven-Roasted Fish with Ginger and Lime

1½ lbs. white fish fillets (haddock, pollock, cod, bass), cut into 4 to 6 portions
¼ cup fresh lime juice
3 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. shallot, minced
2 Tbsp. fresh ginger, peeled, finely chopped
2 Tbsp. fresh cilantro, chopped
3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 500°F. Brush large baking dish with 2 tsp. oil. Add fish to dish, turn to coat with oil, then arrange skin down. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Set aside.

In small bowl, mix lime juice, soy sauce, shallot, ginger, and cilantro. Whisk in the remaining olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Spoon a scant tablespoon of sauce over each fillet. Roast fish until opaque in the center, about 12 minutes. Top with remaining sauce. Serves 4.

Source: Adapted from a recipe in Bon Appetit many years ago.

When in Rome/Russo’s

Last week, I planned to take my Diemand Farm turkey sausage and put it into a lasagna using a recipe my neighbor recommended out of Sunset Magazine. I planned to follow the Sunset recipe as written even though it called for cottage cheese instead of ricotta. It wouldn’t kill me to try it, right? My neighbor has good taste.

So I went to Russo’s to procure my local cottage cheese, which I did, but as I was leaving the refrigerated section, something caught my eye. A metal tin of ricotta piled high to overflowing like a muffin top, plastic wrapper stretched and rubber-banded comically over the bulge. Boston.com had an article last month about the best food finds of 2009, and in it they mentioned a ricotta that’s made in Hamden, Connecticut, practically right down the street from where Nonni lives. They mentioned that Russo’s stocked it. Whoa! A cheese at Russo’s that I haven’t tried? Impossible! I knew they carried ricotta from Purity (MA) and the Mozzarella House (MA) and Maplebrook Farm (VT), but I had never seen the brand they mentioned: Liuzzi Angeloni. Well, there it was right in front of me, plain as day.

Me: Buy the ricotta.

Me: No, we’re trying cottage cheese this time. It’s already in the cart.

Me: Put it back and get that ricotta.

Me: No, you already know what ricotta tastes like in lasagna.

Me: Yes. Delicious. There’s no improving it.

Me: I’m walking away.

Me: Stop, you idiot. You forgot the ricotta.

Me: I can’t hear you.

Me: Wait. Stop…YOU’RE A DISGRACE TO YOUR PEOPLE!!!

It’s useful to talk to yourself at Russo’s so everyone gets the hell out of your way. Remember that tip. So anyway, I did walk away without the ricotta. Can you believe that? Yeah, me neither. Now for Part 2 of the story.

I was seething all day long about it, my lack of delicious ricotta, to the point that I couldn’t even bring myself to make the lasagna that night or the next day. The day after that, however, I dropped the kids off at their respective schools, then sort of blacked out, and when I came to, someone was ramming their cart into my hip over and over. Yup, you guessed it. I was back at Russo’s planted in front of the cheese fridge. And there was one container left! I assume I paid for it. I’m not really sure because I rushed home to make lasagna, and it was…

Ahhhhhhh. That ricotta was soooooo good. I think the moral of this story is that I wasn’t meant to put cottage cheese in my lasagna.

Some Winter Food Notes

It’s that time of year again when normally good-natured people become vicious and back-stabbing in order to secure a spot in their summer CSA of choice. Just kidding, we’re not really like that (she says while sharpening her knives). What? My knives really do need sharpening. It’s just a coincidence.

I’ve moved the list of local farms to the left hand column under Farms and Food if you want to peruse your options. (Incidentally, my favorite food blog links are listed in that same spot on their own separate pages because the sidebar lists were starting to give me a headache).

If you can’t wait until the summer for fresh, local produce, and I know I can’t, there’s a new winter farmer’s market on Saturdays starting tomorrow through Feb. 27 at Russell’s Garden Center located at 397 Boston Post Rd. (Rt. 20) in Wayland from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. Boston Localvores has the scoop on that. There’s another winter farmer’s market going on in Natick on Saturdays from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the Johnson School at 99 South Main St. (Rt. 27). You can learn more from FoodieMommy.

Let’s see, what else? Oh, Drumlin Farm is having their annual winter harvest meal on Friday, Feb. 5 at 7 p.m. Menu includes fresh cheese, kale soup, vegetable frittata, Drumlin meat, roasted winter vegetables, and homemade pumpkin pie. Author Brian Donahue (Reclaiming the Commons: Community Farms and Forests in a New England Town and The Great Meadow: Farmers and the Land in Colonial Concord) will speak. Tickets are $32 for members, $40 for nonmembers. Call 781-259-2206 by January 30 to reserve a spot.

Finally, there’s a burger throwdown going on in Boston on Monday, Feb. 1 from 6 to 9 p.m. in the Nine Zero Hotel between Ken Oringer, James Beard Award-winning chef of KO Prime, and his “challengers,” including Ming Tsai (Blue Ginger), Andy Husbands (Tremont 647), Jamie Bissonette (Toro, Coppa), Michael Schlow (Radius, Via Matta), Jay Haaj (Mike’s City Diner), and Greg Reeves (Green Street Grill), among others. Twenty-five bucks lets you sample 10 burgers and vote for your favorite one. Event benefits Autism Speaks.

Fish Three Ways, Part 2

So we’ve done fish Italian-style; now it’s time to do it Indian-style. Think tomatoes, garlic, fennel seed…wait that still sounds Italian. Okay, but then add some cumin, turmeric, cayenne, garam masala…. This takes things in an entirely different direction, making it hard to remember that it’s the exact same fish you just cooked last week.

You can skip the dry rub if you’re short on time. The sauce need only simmer for about 15 minutes, so you can fillet the fish at that point. Or, you know, buy it already filleted. I hear you can do that. Point is, it doesn’t take long. Serve the fish with ample sauce over basmati rice with some roasted cauliflower or stir-fried cabbage, and you will find yourself eating something on par with (or in some cases better) than what the local Indian restaurants serve.

Next up, roasted fish in a soy-ginger sauce.

Fish in an Indian-Spiced Tomato Sauce

Adjust the cayenne to your taste. I’ve reduced the amount here because my youngest complained, “My neck is spicing.”

1½ lbs. white fish fillets (cod, haddock, pollock, bass), cut into two-inch pieces
1¼ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. turmeric
2 pinches cayenne
3 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 tsp. fennel seeds
1 tsp. mustard seeds
1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
2 tsp. cumin
14 oz. tomatoes, canned is fine
¼ tsp. garam masala (if you don’t have this spice mix, add a pinch each of whatever of the following you have: cinnamon, black pepper, coriander, cardamom, and the tiniest pinch of cloves, and you’ll approximate it pretty well)

Pat the cod fillets dry and sprinkle with a mixture of ¼ tsp. salt, ¼ tsp. turmeric, and a pinch of cayenne. Set aside for 30 minutes.

In a large skillet with a lid, heat the oil over medium heat. When hot, add the fennel and mustard seeds. When the mustard seeds begin to pop, add the onion and garlic. Fry until the onion turns slightly brown, about 7 minutes. Add the cumin, remaining 1 tsp. salt, and the other pinch of cayenne, and stir. Add the tomatoes and their liquid as well as the garam masala. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and gently simmer uncovered for about 15 minutes, until sauce starts to thicken and darken.

Nestle fish fillets into the sauce, spooning additional sauce on top. Cover pan and simmer gently over medium-low heat until fish is cooked through, about 10 minutes for thin fillets. Serve over basmati rice.

Source: Adapted from Madhur Jaffrey’s Illustrated Indian Cookery (out of print).

A Lesson in Dinosaur Social Dynamics

While playing dinosaurs the other morning, the Preschooler was orchestrating a conversation between a triceratops and a stegosaurus in which they compared their various types of armor and the plants they liked to eat. When they ran out of things to talk about, he decided to introduce a T-Rex to the mix.

Me: Uh-oh. A Tyrannosaurus? Is he going to play nice?

Him: Yes.

Me: But what if he’s hungry? Won’t he eat the stegosaurus or the triceratops?

Him: No. He’ll eat a different dinosaur.

Me: Oh, yeah?

Him: He’ll eat a parasaurolophus instead.

Of course. Fill up on parasaurolophus, the chips and salsa of the dinosaur world. A main course of stegosaurus asado or triceratops rellenos would never cross his mind. Looks like the beginning of a beautiful, albeit short-lived, friendship.

Fish Three Ways, Part 1

As you know, we’ve been part of the Cape Ann Fresh Catch fish CSA and been very happy with it. We signed up again this winter for alternating shares of Maine shrimp one week, and whatever the daily catch is fish-wise the next (usually a white fish like cod, flounder, haddock, or pollock). We switched to the more manageable smaller-sized share (a 5-lb. bag of whole shrimp or one 5 lb. whole fish, which yields about 2 lbs. of fillets, per week). The children absolutely love it. Now that I’ve gotten faster at filleting, I’m able to process the fish and get dinner on the table in about an hour as long as I keep things simple. (The shrimp is another story.)

Husband caught me admiring last week’s cod, with its bright, shiny scales and clear, coppery eyes with a golden rim around the pupil.

Him: What? Do you want to make out with it?

Me: Maybe.

What can I say? It was a particularly beautiful fish that filleted cleanly. How could I possibly do it justice? I’ll tell you how: by pan-frying it gently, deglazing the pan with white wine, simmering in some capers, mounting with butter (get your mind out of the gutter, it's a FISH), and finishing it with the juice of a lemon and a sprinkling of parsley. Serve over buttered spaghetti with maybe some kale on the side, it’s like fish piccata. So simple and so good.

Next week, fish simmered in a fragrant Indian-spiced red sauce.

Cod with Lemon-Caper Butter

I like to keep the skin on thin fillets so the fish doesn’t fall apart too easily.
1½ lbs. cod, flounder, or sole fillets
2 Tbsp. olive oil
¼ cup flour
½ cup white wine
¼ cup capers, drained
3 Tbsp. butter, cut into pieces
3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
1 Tbsp. chopped fresh parsley

Heat oil in heavy, large skillet over medium-high heat. Meanwhile, spread flour on a plate. Sprinkle fish with salt and pepper and lightly coat with flour. Add fish to the hot pan and cook until opaque in the center, a few minutes per side for thin fillets. Transfer to plate and tent with foil to keep warm.

Add wine to skillet and deglaze, scraping up browned bits. Add capers and simmer until liquid is reduced by half, 2-3 minutes. Whisk in butter, one piece at a time, allowing each piece to melt before adding the next. Off the heat, whisk in lemon juice and parsley. Season with salt and pepper. Spoon sauce over fish to serve. Serves 4-6.

Source: Adapted from Legal Sea Foods.

Buy 1, Get 1 Free

Ah, the lure of the sale. Fixed-income grandmothers everywhere can’t resist its siren song, as evidenced by the following conversation with Nonni over the weekend:

Her: Do you eat grape jelly?

Me: I’ve been known to.

Her: Here, take these home.

Me: No, you keep them.

Her: I can’t eat it.

Me: Then why did you buy so many?

Her: They were on sale.

Me: …

Her: Buy one, get one free.

Me: But…it’s not free if you can’t eat it.

Her: (looking at me like I’m crazy)

Oh well. Who am I to condemn the ways of a near-century-old human?

It’s free to me!

Grapefruit Mimosas

Thank you all for coming to my New Year’s Eve potluck. It was awesome! I especially enjoyed the F*ck You Fondue, Why-Didn't-Anyone-Tell-Me-I-Had-Celiac-Disease French Toast, “Busted Knee” Leg o’ Goat, Menopause Hot & Cold Soup, Torturilla Chips and Guantanamole, and Crazy Momma Biscotti. See the comments for the rest of the offerings. Oh, and sorry I threw up in your car afterwards. That’s just my way.

In the unlikely event that you have any champagne leftover that I didn’t find and then drink, here’s a cocktail recipe for your brunchtime pleasure: grapefruit juice, tequila, elderflower liquor, topped off with a bit of bubbly. What’s wrong with a little cocktail first thing on a Monday morning? I hear companies are really loosening up about employees showing up plastered to work in 2010. All right, fine, I am trying to get you fired so I can take your job! Shhhhhh. A few more sips won’t hurt. You’re taking the train anyway.

Jalisco Flower
Since there’s no simple syrup in this, pick a grapefruit with a tartness you can tolerate. White grapefruit if you like things on the sharper side, ruby red if you prefer them sweeter, pink grapefruit for something in between.

1 oz. freshly squeezed grapefruit juice
¾ oz. elderflower liqueur (like St. Germain)
½ oz. reposado tequila
3 oz. champagne, prosecco, cava, or sparkling wine

Pour first three ingredients into an ice cube-filled cocktail shaker and shake vigorously. Strain into champagne flute (or travel mug) and then top with champagne. Serves 1.

Source: Adapted from Organic, Shaken and Stirred by Paul Abercrombie.

You’re All Invited

I’m looking ahead to 2010 with great anticipation, and it’s going to be very hard to keep me sober on the eve of it. To usher out this crap-tastic year and escort in something better (much better), I’m throwing a virtual New Year’s Eve party and you’re all invited. You don’t even have to cancel your existing plans as it all takes place right here in the all-you-can-eat banquet hall of your mind.

The theme is Fuck 2009! It would be potluck, of course, because I’m not actually very good at throwing parties, real or virtual, and everybody could bring a dish that symbolized their particular hard knocks of the year. Partaking in the feast would be like participating in a delicious, communal exorcism. I wouldn’t even force you to use local ingredients, though there might be something in it for you if you do. You never know.

We’d set up tents on one side of the hall and let the kids go all Lord of the Flies over there while we civilized adults engage in similarly vicious but slightly more veiled mind games having to do with who gets the last slice of chocolate chestnut torte and whether or not the person tasked with mixing drinks is making them strong enough. Have no fear, there will definitely be a fry-o-later and a grill on hand. This is my party after all. Oh, and we’ll need a good blues band. Maybe during their break, people could get up and tell funny stories about this calamitous year. Not me, though. Nothing makes me want to throw up more than public speaking, and I think I’ve already paid my dues in that respect.

Then we’d all boisterously count down the seconds until midnight (maybe sans Dick Clark, though—we’re trying not to be depressed, remember?), and then I’d kick everybody out five seconds later because I need my beauty rest. Sound like the awesomest time ever? I thought so.

RSVP ASAP with the dish you’re bringing. Some ideas:

“My Heat Got Shut Off” Vichyssoise
Laid-Off Deviled Eggs
Repo Potato Skins (potato skins stripped of their cheese, bacon, sour cream, chives, etc. by someone who shall remain nameless)
Kidney Stone Soup
Store-Brand Spaghetti with Blighted Tomato Sauce
Roasted Loin of Infected Swine with Sour Grape Conserve
Chapter 11-Bean Chili
90-Days-Late Sauerkraut (I have dibs on this one)
Foreclosure Flan
“At Least I Have My Health” Deep-Fried Snickers Bars

C’mon, clever readers. You can do better than this. Watcha got?

Scenes from Christmas

Christmas went without a hitch this year. No disasters to speak of, I’m sorry to report. St. Nick managed to cram himself down our tiny chimney right on schedule to deliver the goods to the children. He took some liberties with the fudge, I noticed, making short work of what we left for him on the mantle and then dipping into my secret stash in the refrigerator (he really is always watching, isn’t he?). You can imagine my reaction when I found the empty pans strewn about in the snow, reindeer footprints all around. I’m willing to let it slide, however, in the spirit of Christmas.

Husband and I kept our gifts to each other to a minimum. We didn’t want to end up in a Gift of the Magi-type situation wherein I relinquish my most precious asset, my gorgeous, flowing hair, only to find out that the measly ¾-inch growth I've accumulated will barely get you enough loose change to buy one and a half fishing lures to replace the dozens that have gotten caught in various trees over the years, not by Husband. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, he would have pawned off his fishing pole to buy me a truckload of barrettes or whatever you call those things that keep your hair out of your eyes. To which I would respond, in language befitting an O. Henry character, “WTF? You know I’m physically incapable of accessorizing.”

My in-laws came over Christmas morning bearing Hole-in-One doughnuts and other goodies. I didn’t knock myself out too much with the meal this year. Just a laid-back brunch with bacon from Chestnut Farms, fresh fruit, and a goat cheese-artichoke strata. Oh, and grapefruit mimosas, but that’s for another post. No spiral hams taking forever to cook or ducks to be trussed or husbands to make vomit. Nope, just a casserole made the night before and shoved into the oven amidst a flurry of wrapping paper (made only slightly more challenging by hastily deployed Lego minefields everywhere). Later on, once food coma set in and everyone cleared out, I took a three-and-a-half-hour nap. That was my Christmas present to myself. I thought baby Jesus would approve.

And that, my friends, was Christmas. How about you?

Goat Cheese-Artichoke Strata
This one’s for my mother-in-law. It’s a good use of leftover cheese from the cheese plate you might have served on Christmas Eve.

1 1-lb. loaf sourdough bread, crusts removed if thick
3 garlic cloves, unpeeled
18 oz. marinated artichoke hearts, drained, 3 Tbsp. or marinade reserved
2 tsp. minced fresh thyme
¾ lb. goat cheese, crumbled
¾ lb. freshly grated Parmesan cheese
8 large eggs
2½ cups half-and-half or milk
1 tsp. salt
¾ tsp. black pepper
3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 400°F. Butter a deep 9- to 10-inch baking dish.

Cut bread into 1-inch cubes. Transfer cubes to a baking sheet, along with cloves of garlic, and toast for about 25 minutes, stirring once or twice, until bread is golden brown and lightly crisp. (Or you could use stale bread and toast the garlic separately.) Peel the garlic, smash the cloves, and add to a medium bowl. Slice the artichoke hearts about ½-inch thick and add to the bowl. Mix in the thyme.

In the baking dish, arrange half of the bread, artichoke mixture, and cheeses, then finish with another layer of each. Whisk the eggs with the half-and-half, salt, pepper, and reserved artichoke marinade. Pour custard over the strata. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours or overnight. In my case, I did this Christmas Eve so I could just pop it in the oven Christmas morning.

Remove the strata from the fridge a half hour before you plan to bake it. Preheat oven to 350°F. Drizzle olive oil over strata and bake for 50-55 minutes, until golden brown, puffed, and lightly set in the center. Serve hot.

Source: Adapted from A Real American Breakfast by the Jamisons.

Honey Caramels for Gifting

New to my holiday candy-making repertoire this year are honey caramels, made with local honey, of course. I used Golden Meadow from Reseska Apiaries, which, incidentally, is offering a honey and beeswax candle CSA in the spring. But there are also likely to be several small batch producers in your area, so ask around.

These caramels are sticky, creamy, and buttery, just the way I like them. Extra salt makes them super-addictive. The honey gives them a more complex flavor than your typical caramels, not to mention a taste of your local terroir (i.e., purple loosestrife, black locust, basswood, and buckthorn in my area). What better way to celebrate the bees’, and possibly your own, hard work this year?

Happy holidays, Everyone. See you next week.

Honey Caramels
You will need a candy thermometer for this. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It goes in the pot.

1½ cup sugar
½ cup honey
1 cup heavy cream
4 Tbsp. butter, cut into 4 pieces
1 scant tsp. kosher or sea salt

Line a 9x12-inch baking pan with parchment paper.

Add sugar and honey to a large, non-reactive pot. On medium heat, let the sugar and honey melt and come to a boil. Meanwhile, heat the cream in a small pot until gently simmering (don’t let it boil over).

Cook the sugar mixture, stirring occasionally, until caramelized to a medium to dark amber color, but don’t let it burn. If you’re having trouble judging the color through all the foam, use the sniff test (but don’t get too close—caramel will give you a nasty burn). The longer caramel cooks at this stage, the more bitter the flavor becomes. You want some bitterness to counter the sweetness, but not too much. Give a smell and see what you think.

When you get it where you want it, whisk in the butter 1 Tbsp. at a time until well mixed. Then add the heated cream and salt, and whisk until smooth. Clip on your candy thermometer at this point and cook until it reaches 236°F (for a loose, sticky caramel) up to 250°F (for a firmer one). I stopped mine at 236°F.

Quickly pour into the parchment-lined pan and let cool at room temperature. Chilling soft caramel in the refrigerator makes it easier to handle. Cut into small pieces and wrap them up in parchment or wax paper, twisting the ends. You’ll have to experiment with shapes and sizes of the caramels and papers to get a combination you like. Make sure you have some time on your hands. Wrapping them can take a while. Store in refrigerator until ready to gift.

Source: Adapted from Chez Pim.

Addendum: MidLifeMama tried this recipe over the weekend and had some trouble with the caramels setting up when cooked to 240°F. I’m going to revise my temperature recommendations from 233°F at the lowest to 236°F, the latter of which worked for me though you probably wouldn’t want them much softer, and from 260°F at the highest (as indicated in the original recipe) to 250°F, since I worry they will be too hard otherwise. Still, 236°F-250°F is a wide range, and my research indicates that there can be vast differences in outcomes when making caramel even when altitude isn’t a factor. The time it takes for the sugar to melt and then come to a boil, as well as how much you stir it and the humidity in the air, may all play a role. Furthermore, if you live at a high altitude, subtract 2°F for every 1,000 feet above sea level. I’d say aim for the middle to top of the temperature range (before you do your altitude math) to be on the safe side. If the batch doesn’t set up, you’ll still have some awesome caramel sauce to put in little jars for gifts. Anyone else have anything to add from experience?

Local Sources:
Honey: Golden Meadow, Reseska Apiaries, Holliston, MA
Cream: High Lawn Farm, Lee, MA
Butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT

Blizzard Boy Strikes Again

The First Grader turns 7 this week, but we had his party over the weekend. Naturally, a big snowstorm came through that day. Husband was busy finishing up the birthday cake, so I went outside to shovel out some parking spaces. I’m glad I can just copy and paste this same blog entry year after year after year.

Luckily, our friends have caught on and started making secret reservations at their local ski lodge for whatever day the party invitation says. Then they call us up that morning to say they’re totally snowed in, won’t be leaving anytime soon, that’s for sure, barely hanging up before the ski lift deposits them at the top of the powdery slopes.

It may not snow all year, but it always snows on the day we celebrate the birth of our eldest son. He even made the front page of the Boston Herald on Christmas Day 2002 for being born while a sizable nor’easter was bearing down upon us.

(He's the one in the middle. Don't be fooled: he's not sleeping, he's concentrating intently on mobilizing giant weather systems.)

I just assumed kids were born during snowstorms all the time. I didn’t realize this was a sneak preview of his unique superpower. Over the years, Blizzard Boy would prove to have uncanny control over the weather, able to whip the winter winds into a frenzy, dump massive amounts of precipitation onto the surrounding areas, and, perhaps more importantly, enjoy mixing crushed-up candy bars into softened vanilla ice cream anytime of year, even when Dairy Queen isn’t open. (Fear not, Public at Large, he only uses his powers for good, not evil.)

We always manage to have a respectable turnout despite the weather. The parking spaces I clear on the street, while never big enough for actual cars once the plows are through with them, are usually big enough for sled-only parking for the locals. But you know the only reason I bring up these parties is an excuse to show you Husband’s latest cake. This year’s theme was Bakugan. You know, those little plastic balls that get rolled onto magnetic cards that then trigger all these little spring-loaded arms, legs, and horns to explode out of them.

This is Spin Dragonoid all folded up. But Husband designed it so that when you blow out the candles, color-coordinated marzipan appendages shoot out of the cake in three dimensions like a pop-up book. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of charge right at that moment, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

Take that, Neighborhood Dads!

Last Raffle Winner

And the winner of The Devil’s Food Dictionary is…Alexis!

Wow, I couldn’t have rigged that any better if I tried. Alexis is the reigning champion of codeSparrow so far, and I was worried that I’d have to come up with some kind of prizes for that site, too. And I’m running out. We’re down to just my sauerkraut at this point and, given how tasty it came out this time (finally), I’m hard-pressed to share. Plus, is it gross to eat somebody else’s sauerkraut? I hope not since we had our neighbors over last weekend for a sauerkraut bake with pork chops and brats and, now that I think about it, I haven’t heard from them since. Hello?

Anyway, thanks to everyone for participating. I wish I had something for each of you. And thanks to Husband for policing the whole raffling process. He’ll make an honest woman out of me, yet. Maybe.

Suddenly UnScrooge-Like, Part 3

Up for grabs in our next and final raffle is a brand new (dare I say autographed?) copy of one of the best food books out there, if truth and factual accuracy mean nothing to you. I’ve written about The Devil’s Food Dictionary: A Pioneering Culinary Reference Work Consisting Entirely of Lies before, and I likely will again. I will continue to write about this book until it takes its rightful place on shelves alongside (maybe even in front of) Ruhlman and Bourdain and Fisher. An excerpt:

fig Known as "Nature's racy metaphor," the fig is a luscious tree fruit that, at its ripest and most succulent, has a disreputable air of wantonness and sensuality. Figs can be dried into a tasty, durable snack food or incorporated, either dried or fresh, into works of fiction. Adam and Eve are said to have employed fig leaves to "cover their shame" after their expulsion from Eden. Sometime later, their son Cain murdered his brother Abel after the latter publicly joked that a whole leaf was not necessary to cover Cain's shame, but merely a single fig.

See? It’s good, wholesome fun for the whole family!

You may remember author Barry Foy as the guest poster extraordinaire who introduced us to his canned bean CSA over the summer. I came along to his Toot Hollow Farm CSA pickup last fall down a long, long, very long asphalt road in the middle of nowhere, pepper spray hidden in my pocket and firmly in my grasp the whole time, and, let me tell you, it was a delight! Really, you smell it before you see it.

Anyhoo, he just did a book signing thing out in Seattle as well as a radio interview that was pretty funny. If you’d like a chance to win this book, I’ll meet you down there in the comment section.

Cookie Cutter Winner

And the winner of the train cookie cutter raffle is...Susanna!

Happy cookie-making! I’ll be in touch.

To ease the blow for the rest of you, here are some of my favorite cookies and cookie-like confections for the holidays that I’ve posted over the years. None require cookie-cutters.

Chocolate chip cream cheese cookies

Pignoli cookies

Blondies

Seven-layer cookies

Penuche

Raisin cheesecake cookies

Anginettes

Bambury tarts

There’s one more giveaway left, and then it’s back to our regularly scheduled Scrooge-like behavior.