November
Renee
Date Night Strikes Again!
I don't know about you guys, but after pay day you can always find me
in a grocery store of some kind picking around at this and that...
looking for inspiration for my next dinner/date night!
Friday night's Date Night was a bit of a change from the usual fare. I really love
pasta...so I tend to lean towards pasta for my special dinners.
But, this past weekend I opted for a Mexican dish...not really my favorite kind of food but this recipe struck me. I think it was the seafood--(another one of my favorites). The recipe came from Emeril Lagasse...it is on his site...emeril.com, not the food network. It's the seafood chimichangas.
First you make a sauce of ancho chilis--reconstituted in water, roasted tomatoes, roasted onions and roasted garlic. Whisk together in a food processor adding some of the reserved ancho chili water to create a smooth sauce. Add lime
juice, cumin, oregano, cilantro and pulse. Season w/ S&P. Then saute
olive oil, chopped onion, chopped shrimp and scallops until translucent. Add
crabmeat, then add 1/2 cup of the homemade chili sauce and toss in pan
with goat cheese and chopped cilantro. Place 2 cups of remaining sauce
in saucepan and add heavy cream--reduce slightly. Put aside. One at a
time...place tortilla on a work surface and spread seafood down the
center, fold top and bottom to form a package, then the sides, roll to
seal. may secure w/toothpicks if needed. Heat several inches of oil
in a deep pot. Using tongs, fry each burrito on both sides until brown
and crispy. Drain on paper towels. Garnish w/ creamy
sauce, tomatoes, sour cream, cilantro and green onions!
Also- I made a salad of chopped romaine, black beans, corn, seeded tomato, chopped and peeled jicama, radishes, red bell pepper and feta cheese. Toss this w/ a dressing of olive oil, lime juice, honey, chopped cilantro, chopped garlic, and a
little chopped jalapeno. TRUST ME...it's a top ten recipe! Jim went
ballistic! Now what do you think we had to put out the flames?! Of
course...an icy cold Corona. Didn't need to change the beverage....it
went perfectly with the Mexican fare!! If you need exact
measurements, check out emeril.com for seafood chimichangas.
Buon Appetito senoras and senoritas!
October
Kathryn
I have this cooking game… It began one night in Italy, oh so long ago, over a bowl of pasta. Marco, a friend taking his first baby steps in the kitchen, would ask me over to “teach” him how to cook.
An aside -- I think everyone can cook… it’s a matter of following a recipe, trusting your instincts and being open to making mistakes. They happen… you forget an ingredient, you improvise something that is not a grand success, your oven fails…kitchen gremlins.
Mark would work his way through his menu – prodding at the food with his wooden spoon. We would plate our meals, pour a litre of vino, and begin to taste, savor, and deconstruct. We always began the same way, “If I made this again, I would…”
We focused on what worked about the meal. There might be little tweaks here and there… " little more onion, a little less salt"… "forget the parm and lets try pecorino. How about if you tried a little of this?"
Which brings me to Monday evenings’ chicken stew.
When I peered in the pot on the second day, after an evening in the refrigerator developing some character, the stew was savory and golden brown, full of potatoes, orange carrots, black mushrooms and bits of chicken. The chicken thighs were a good choice. The meat was flavorful and held up to the long, slow cooking shredding nicely without disappearing. The balance of meat to veg to sauce was right… thick, as a stew should be.
If I was going to make this dish again, I would definitely make some tweaks. Most importantly, I’d forgo butter and toss the veggies in olive oil before caramelizing… or I might try par-roasting them to really condense the flavors. The butter made the sauce a little heavier than I wanted, and olive oil would be a lighter choice. I would also skip the parsley root. I’d never worked with it before, and thought it imparted a slight bitterness to the stew. Maybe adding a few more parsnips… The Woliver’s brown ale worked very well to deepen the flavor. And the ale helped cut through the richness of the butter. I must admit I’d like to try the recipe with a dry white wine as well to see what difference that makes.
Here's to successful experiments!
Oct 22
Kathryn
The Catskill Beef Stew went so well that we decided to improvise a chicken stew... a lighter version of a long simmered one pot meal. It’s just so easy when you work full time to come home and heat up a bowl of something hearty. But chicken stews and soups can be tricky, even dish-watery if you aren’t careful. So, we brainstormed about the base - critical in a flavorful stew. Not red wine... too strong. White wine? Maybe. But what about a beer? That might be the right midpoint.
We started with 3 lbs of chicken thighs, cut into chunks and dredged in flour, salt and white pepper. We browned them in a heavy pan with olive oil to develop those delightful browned bits. (Think roux!)
In a separate saute pan, we softened leeks and then caramelized celery, carrot, parsnips (sweeter than turnips), and parsley root in butter. (So much for the lighter touch… but you could use olive oil.)
The browned chicken was set aside and the vegetables were dumped in the big stewpot to continue caramelizing. Time to deglaze the pot... white wine or ale? We chose Wolivers Brown Ale -- hearty but not overpoweringly hoppy or bitter. Once deglazed, the liquid was poured into the vegetable pot, with the chicken, potatoes, mushrooms (button and portabella) and a can of chicken stock. For a bit of kick, we added two seeded cayenne peppers, along with thyme and fresh flat leaf parsley. After a bit of a simmer, I scooped some glace de poulet in as well to give some depth.
So far, so good! We've been sampling and simmering, waiting to see what we get… It’s our experiment in progress. Check in tomorrow for the outcome!
October 16
Kathryn
Autumn Stew Season
Gabe and I spent this past weekend in the Catskill Mountains near Woodstock in a family farmhouse with 6 adults, 4 boys ranging from 3 to 6, and a geriatric dog. The weather was autumn crisp and with all the kids we expected to spend lots of time outside hiking about and exploring the countryside. That called for fortification, and a hearty one pot meal we could make easily and revisit whenever hungry mouths called.
Beef stew… a sentimental favorite. I know we are encouraged to keep our beef intake low… but I’d rather have a bowl of hearty beef stew than a steak anytime. Since this stew would have all the time in the worlds to simmer, we loaded it with fall root veggies. We chopped, we caramelized, we browned, we deglazed and we dumped everything in a huge old stew pot set to simmer. The stew was bubbling by 2pm, and our first carload arrived at 5ish to the smell of rich stew. We served in wide bowls with a crispy baguette.
Hearty Beef Stew
Dredge the meat in flour, salt and cracked black pepper, knocking off excess flour:
•2 lbs marbled chuck cubes
•1 lb lean sirloin cubes
Brown beef in batches in a heavy pan with olive oil, beginning with the chuck to render the fat. Don’t be afraid of the bits that stick and brown, but keep your flame at medium so nothing scorches.
When the meat is browned, set aside in a bowl. Deglaze the heavy pan with a hearty/spicy red wine. Pour in a cup and simmer as you stir with a wooden spoon, scraping the browned bits off the side and bottom. Add wine as you go. (We used ¾ of a bottle.)
When all the little browned bits are free of the pan sides and bottom, and mixed in the wine, pour the liquid over your browned meat.
Put some olive oil in the heavy pan and sauté the leeks and onion until softened.
•Leeks – white part, halved and fanned in water to clean
•Roughly chopped Yellow onion
When softened, add roughly chopped:
•Garlic (4-5 cloves)
•Carrots (one large bag of baby carrots)
•Celery (4 ribs)
•Turnips (4-5 small, peeled and diced)
Mix, cover and lower the heat to caramelize for 20-30 minutes until the root vegetables are a bit softer and just beginning to go golden and aromatic.
Add the roughly diced:
•Potatoes
•Mushrooms
And a can of whole or diced tomatoes with a 2nd can of tomato puree.
Mix in the wine and meat, stir until well mixed.
Add 2-3 bay leaves and some roughly cut thyme and flat leaf parsley.
Cover loosely and simmer for an hour. Stir now and again to check the liquid level. Add more wine or tomatoes if needed. As it simmers, taste and correct seasoning – salt, pepper, thyme, etc.
By evening the stew was thick and spicy, redolent of bay and tomato beef. We finished the last bit at lunch our 2nd day...
October 2
Kathryn
• Arugula and Pecorino pizza with Paola C and Paola W my first night back, exhausted, sipping un mezzo litro and jabbering on and on in Italian
• Driving up the hill kicking up dust and remembering every turn of the 3 kilometer white gravel road.
• Sitting in Elizabeth’s kitchen at the table covered with the bright turquoise and orange oilcloth, drinking white wine and sharing life’s little details
• Melchiorre picking figs from Elizabeth’s tree, and handing me a small basket brimming with deep purple fruit as my welcome home gift
• Renee howlig like a wolf at a barrista in Preggio’s main square at 10pm, trying to suss out what the sign over the door meant.
• Warm frothy cappuccino in the piazza with Paola
• Reviewing every shelf and corner loaded with dried porcini, oiled truffles, rock sugar, crostini toppings, etc. at The Yellow House, a gourmet shop in Camucia, with Donna and Jim before buying vino sfuzo for the wedding.
• Wandering the Borgo Mighianella with my mom and Dana on a surreptitious walk through the private townlet
• Mrs. Kim's knife skills
• Walking Stefano’s property looking out over the valley floor, with Leila his German Shepherd dancing about, as we cut olive and oak branches for the wedding
• The interminable wait at Il Capone during Umbertide’s 1800 festival, sharing bottles of house red with Elizabeth, Melchiorre, Dana and both Paolas… and enjoying every minute of conversation and laughter.
• Donna walking down the steps at La Peitra in a cream and gold beaded dress, with Jim, all in white waiting below.
• Melchiorre and Dana addled with delight
• Sleeping in the porcile with the door and windows wide open to the garden
• Planting Elizabeth’s winter garden for her and then setting candles all through the garden and along our little wall, and having Martin and Elizabeth over for late night drinks by candlelight
September 8
Bel'Italia
We're in the process of adding thoughts and musings, recipes and our photographs of the Forking Delicious Umbrian Adventure to the site. Please keep coming back as we add more each day. You can read (and reread) the article about the trip in the Philadelphia Inquirer.
September 30
Renee
Ciao! We are back from our adventures in Umbria! The trip was interesting and entertaining! One of my hilights of the trip was our cooking class with Melchiorre, an authentic Italian chef. You can read about Melchiorre on amoresapore.com. He's the one with the mustache! The food was rustic, authentic Umbrian fare...which was absolutely the best pasta I've ever had...and I am a pasta fanatic!
Last night I had friends over and I made Melchiorre’s pasta stuffed with a mashed potato/parm cheese filling, served with a very tasty tomato sauce. (The recipe for the sauce is on the amoresapore site. You must try the sauce...on a chilly Sunday afternoon-maybe while the game is on...it needs time to simmer and cook down all those wonderful flavors. At our Italian cooking lesson we also made stuffed zucchini flowers, marinated sardines w/parsley and lemon, fried smelts, homemade sausage, zucchini stuuffed with shrimp, battered then fried, roasted duck over a spit in our fireplace!! Yes, really! And for dessert poached pears in a red wine sauce. (I later used the remaining sauce as part of the dressing for Donna and Jim's wedding salad.) I am hoping we can post pictures soon of our experiences.
The wedding was set up beautifully- something out of a gourmet magazine photo shoot...The countryside of Umbria was breathtaking....I went with my sister, which we shared a room- really quite funny, for we haven't shared a room in quite sometime- and there at night we would giggle together like school girls under the covers about some of our adventures. I can say that we are different women because of our experience--some good, some challenging, some just funny. We are better for it. I have a new appreciation for a different culture and even for our home here in the states that I couldn't have experienced without this trip. We ate at mom and pop places – --trattorias – that were nestled here and there through out the area -- very charming, unpretentious simple goodness. Many dishes were made fresh from the days garden picks. I sampled things that are not normally on the menu here in the states such as goat, wild boar and the ever so expensive but delightful truffles! We did a wine tasting and truffle dinner with friends at a vineyard that was totally intoxicating- literally! Sooo good. I have yet to recreate that meal- but don't worry I am working on it....
My sister, Min and I got side tracked on evening during a fiesta in Umbertide and ended up at a restaurant where the owner was sitting outside having wine with his friends- there were gracious enough to invite the "americanas" to sit and drink wine with them- we had a lovely chat for a couple of hours about their country, our country and raising a family-they spoke a little English but we all got by and had so much in common with our views about life...kids, jobs, government... just regular people- being hospitable to us! It was a memorable evening and I have to admit at that point I was getting a little homesick. But it is nice to know that you made new friends from across the sea.. So there you have a small bit of my experience in Italy...
Ciao, Renee (or Renata as they say in Italy!)
August 26
Min
Fallingwater: Thoughts of Food & Community
“I’m going to blog about Fallingwater when I get home,” said Ollie as we shared our last reflections about the weekend together. The sculpture of the Angel of Resurrection rose sharply behind us, as they announced that train No. 145 bound to Washington, D.C. would be arriving through Gate 5 of Philadelphia’s 30th Street Train Station. I said, “I’m going to write a diary entry about Fallingwater in my Food Group’s website.” Her brows arched slightly as she pondered on the significance of Fallingwater and Food.
Certainly, we had not set off to Fallingwater in Mill Run, PA, with the intention of having a gastronomical reawakening of any type – our focus was architecture. But as a Foodie, I could not hide my secret ambitions as I pulled the car curbside several times in order to inquire unsuspecting pedestrians along the way about a “good place to eat lunch” when we arrived in Somerset County. Somerset was the site of the tragic crash of the United Airlines Flight 93 on September 11, 2001.
It was 90 °plus outside, and a lovely couple tending to a meticulous garden outside their Cape Cod home, painted in bright medium-purple, recommended Zambo’s Country Cottage Diner. They thought that it was closed on Saturdays, but to our surprise it was open for business! Country Cottage sits at the crest of a hill on Route 281, as the road meanders on the way to Fallingwater, cushioned only by stalks of sweet corn rising on each side.
I immediately sensed that I didn’t blend in with the dominant racial make-up of the Euro-centric locals dining at the Country Cottage. Washing my hands in the restroom, I looked up at the mirror and saw the dark Asian features looking back at me: my almond-shaped eyes, the curl of my hair by an undone bun as it cascaded down my shoulders, and the dark luster of the Summer skin that highlighted my dark hair and eyes - sharply contrasted the image I had of the community outside. Ollie and I followed the entire length of the wallpaper border around the dining room with our eyes, and noticed that they still displayed 4th of July decorations. They reflected a painful memory of what happened locally on 9/11. These were not simply decorations; they were reminders, perhaps warnings - “don’t ever forget.”
Ollie had a hot turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy. We noticed that it was made with real pulled turkey. The dark meat concentrated its flavor. The potatoes were steamed and simply pressed down with a fork. They were sweet without any additives. A creamy beige gravy covered the entire dish. The turkey and gravy reminded us of Thanksgiving and family.
I ordered the Special: Reuben with fries for $4.75. When the Reuben arrived, it looked more like a grilled-cheese sandwich. And so it was, as the bread oozed with sweet butter on the outside, and the creamy thousand island dressing on the inside that mixed lightly with the acidity of the sauerkraut, tampered by melted Swiss cheese. Meanwhile, the corned beef just sat there, regally, waiting to be discovered. The fries were just how I like them, steak-style, crisped to perfection and fried to a light golden tone.
We also had fried mushrooms with ranch dressing, coconut cream pie and homemade ice tea. As I scanned the other dishes around us, I saw simple, fresh and meticulously plated assortments of salads topped with fries; a variety of sandwiches perfectly cupped in golden rolls (hot sandwiches like Ollie’s being a local staple), and spaghetti in marinara sauce with small meatballs that put to shame anyone who has ever opened a can of processed spaghetti sauce. As my eyes met those of the other diners, I smiled widely, and they smiled back. It’s amazing what the power of smile can do - the type that makes the corner of your mouth dimple, your cheek bones rise, your eyes wrinkle and sag a tad bit at the corners, and your forehead relax. Later I noticed that those same diners sought to make eye contact again and smile back. Smiles disarm people, but FOOD connects them in a community. We were no longer Asians or Whites, City-people or Country-people, we were simply country diners.
As Ollie and I left the Country Cottage, we realized that although we had just consumed more starch bound by fat than any modern-day Healthy Lifestyle magazine could ever have conceived of in one seating, we couldn’t imagine enjoying such a meal in any other setting! In the City, we are often bombarded by menu claims of “home-made, old-fashioned, comfort, all-American and authentic” food, but Zambo’s and the Somerset community gave us a fresh taste, a wake-up call to what “coming together around a dinner table” really means.
They say that Frank Lloyd Wright planned Fallingwater with the Southwest lookout view from above Bear Run stream in mind. As I sat on the same rock from which probably the Kauffmans and Wright envisioned Fallingwater, I was mesmerized by the sight of the human made structure that protruded from the mountain side like a natural outgrowth. The house, designed like the cascades that flow from under, seems to embody their voices, or Nature’s desire to reach out and touch the extended hand of man. Never before had I seen where human effect and nature became so perfectly one. I could not determine where the house, the mountain and the water began and ended. I witnessed Oneness in Fallingwater, and for a moment I sought to become part of that fragile balance.
As we drove off the grounds, Ollie struggled with, “I feel… so… so…” I offered, “Satisfied?” She said, “Yes!” And I completed, “Like you’ve just finished a meal and feel perfectly satisfied; not over satiated in the least bit…”
We realized that Fallingwater had left an indelible mark in us. A reminder of what is possible when man sits at the foot of nature, instead of fighting it. As the train started boarding at 30th Station, the arch in Ollie’s eyebrow relaxed, and she understood how Fallingwater had a place in the Food Diaries.
August 26
Kathryn
12 days and counting to our Umbrian Adventure... 36 people, 10 cars, 5 houses, 1 wedding and heaven knows how many different ideas, plans, hopes and dreams. (What about that pool boy?)
We do know that we are going to learn to make hand rolled sardinian ravioli... and will eat lamb roasted on a spit... and will have a yoga class by the pool one morning... and we will have a morning sipping cappuccino in the piazza on market day. Beyond that, is it Assisi or Orvieto or Gubbio... or just leisurely mornings sipping coffee and staring out at the view? Qui sa? It's an adventure.
August 15
Min
"Thank You" Note and Update on Min's Mom
Since many people have so kindly inquired about mom’s health and her garden since our last Inquirer article, I thought I’d give a simple update. She’s been healing really well (her knees). But at 67, every major procedure takes more of a toll on her. She’s been back to gardening, although she’s taking it a lot easier. I am sure that everyone’s love and well-wishes encouraged her to go back to the gardening that she loves so much! She can’t spend hours on end in the backyard as she used to, but it’s enough to bring her and our family back to something that is so important to us – the earth and its fruits!
We recently enjoyed the last of her Summer lettuce, but continue to enjoy her peppers, tomatoes, football sized squash, eggplant, scallions, and this Korean leafy green called “kiyea-nip.” Today, we had this simple, but delicious Korean delicacy, which is a vegetable pancake made with her garden-fresh, julienned squash and peppers. The squash gave it a sweet flavor and the peppers gave it a nice kick in case we were dazed into sweetness! Yesterday, she made fresh pumpkin & red bean sweet rice cake! We went all the way to the Korean rice cake mill to buy freshly milled sweet rice flour, and brought it home for her to work her magic. The secret was the pumpkin that she had harvested in our backyard, dried in spiral rings in the sun, and aged 3 years! It concentrates the flavor and tasted like honey in the rice cake!
Mom has also had an old friend visit from New Mexico, and together they cook all day (and sometimes it almost doesn’t seem like an exaggeration at all!). We worry about her tendency to overexert herself, but can never decline the endless flow of an assortment of fresh kimchi, meatballs, dumplings, and other treats! I think that she’s starting to get excited about our trip to Italy too! We’ll explore as far as her knees will take us! Thanks again for all of your well-wishes!
ps. (look to the left to see a picture of my mom's watermellon sized squash - it's sitting on a milk crate, semi-suspended by a rope, because it was growing too heavy for its vine! :)
July 21
Kathy
Lush Ripe Figs
They make my heart start. I’m looking at them now, fresh from the tree. Reddish brown orbs sparkling with water from the night’s rains, hanging pendulously from their branches.
Figs cannot be described without sensual, sexual language… they are heavy, full and pendulous… like breasts, like testicles… humid and lush. It’s just not possible to look at a fig and not rhapsodize in the most sensual terms. They are meaty, ripe, rounded, full, wet, succulent.
I planted my tree the year I returned from Italy. My mother gave me a garden shower and I took one of the gift cards and bought myself a brown turkey fig tree. Its first year it lived in a pot on the deck and gave up 4 or 5 figs that fall. The fruit were small brownish-green gems… and (for me) full of memories of the prolific fig trees in Italy that burst with fruit in spring and late summer/fall.
Now, in its third year, fully rooted in my kitchen garden the fig is full of fat, ripening fruit. In the morning before I head to work, I walk through the garden and visit the plants. This morning, I picked ripe cherry and yellow pear tomatoes to keep for lunch. The fig offered up two, wine-colored fruits glistening with water and leaking juice. Breakfast!
Bite in and taste that burst of sweet, green summer. These figs are so ripe that I can swirl my tongue around the inside of the skin and separate the pulp from the stem. How can you tell a ripe fig? When the fruit is so heavy that the skin splits on the bottom and the flesh peaks through. They can be a bit ugly when ripe… the skin nicked and pocked by birds, and inevitably, covered in ants. The skin is durable, so no harm is done. Rinse them off and forget it. Enjoy that you are sharing a bit of heaven with your fellow creatures. The flesh itself is sweet and reddish pink and full of tiny soft seeds that pop slightly.
Around the Mediterranean, where the summers are so hot and dry, the figs reduce in their own thick skins and by late summer are dense and sticky with their own juices. Here, with our more variable weather, my figs taste lighter…more green. But I also have a hard time leaving them on the tree—when the fig is reddish brown and beginning to ooze nectar, I pick it. Hopefully, after the hot august nights to come, the fall harvest will be even heavier.
A friend in SF introduced me to a very simple summer fig recipe…
Figs with Gorgonzola
Cut fresh figs in half (or quarters if they are exceptionally large)
Put a dollop of a soft gorgonzola cheese (1/2 teaspoon) in the center of each piece of fig
Wrap each with a piece of paper-thin prosciutto
Eat. Roll your eyes and make crooning sounds. Thank the heavens for figs.
Symbols of fertility and plenty, figs are the stuff of life… Food of the gods.
July 2007
Donna
Shrimp Salad
I am sure you’ve read Kathy’s wonderful diary entry about our 3rd annual Riverton Picnic. The day was perfect and the pictures really make everything come alive. For those of us there, it just refreshes our memories. I made (as requested) my shrimp salad along with some tomato and cheese focaccia.
Everyone wanted the recipe for the shrimp salad so here it is. Keep in mind I cook with my senses so my measurements are almost non-existent.
You need:
•Shrimp (cleaned and deveined, any size)
•Mayo
•Dill
•Salt
•Pepper
•Garlic Powder
•Olive Oil
•Large Skillet
•Food processor or knife and cutting board
Yes that’s it.
Now, with those ingredients its all about your taste. If you like lots of dill add lots, if you love garlic add an extra dash, just be careful with the amount of salt you add, you only need a pinch.
1. Coat skillet with olive and heat pan
2. Add shrimp
3. Add garlic powder, salt and pepper
4. Toss just once to coat shrimp with oil and ingredients
5. Cook until shrimp are almost done
6. Add chopped dill
7. Continue cooking until shrimp are done
8. Be sure to toss so that shrimp are evenly covered with all ingredients
9. Take off heat and let rest about 5-10 minutes (You want your shrimp to be
a little warm)
10. Put shrimp in the food processer (in batches depending on how much
you’re making) and pulse until you have your desired size. (Be sure to pulse
you don’t want mush)
11. If you don’t have a food processor just chop shrimp on your cutting board
to your desired size (I like a combination of big and small pieces)
12. Put shrimp in a bowl along with all the skillet drippings and fold in mayo
to your likeness. Work your way up to the desired amount, you can always
add more but you can’t take away.
Enjoy.
Please go to our google site and let me know how you made out or if you have any questions.
June 23
Kathy - Buon giorno!
What a fabulous picnic! Thank you to everyone for coming over to the riverbank and sharing the day! The weather was perfect, the food was great (Kate - those fresh apricots!) and, as always, the company was unsurpassed. A handful of us left the riverbank after 8:30 and went to the Milmarian for pizza. Many thanks to the Pros for their impromptu espresso bar!
It's always so good to see everyone and to have new faces join in on the fun. There was so much food we never even brought the watermelon out!
Gabe got some great pictures... we've been cropping and color correcting all morning. I'll post them on flickr when we're finished for all to see. I hope you will be pleased!
Sadly, there were no leftovers and only one 1/2 bottle of champagne left. But I have a whole watermelon, lots of sparkling juices and mints. Sounds like a cocktail in the making. Maureen - thanks for the infrastructure (tables and champage. Champagne is the heart of the events after all!) I'll have everyone's utensils, tablecloths, baskets and bowls cleaned and ready for repatriation later this week.
Have a great Sunday! My alley way is full of plants all potted upand ready to go back with you all -- but we never got up here together. Please (please please) do come for plants... Lesu, Diana, Jenny, Renee... it's all here. Marco and Paola... something for you?
Min - Another successful Riverbank Picnic! Cheers to you for bringing us together!
I found this year's picnic nice and relaxed! There was no fuss about the food, the conversations flowed easily, the weather was just as brilliantly sunny and more refreshing! Each year brings its own notes and melodies, but always remains a day to remember... I also will remember Kate's apricots & blueberries in wine sauce fondly... Ciao!
Donna - As usual the picnic was picture perfect, we are three for three. I wish I had bought more food, but who knew. Sorry we didn't get any watermelon, I had been thinking about it earlier in the week with the cheese and mint. I had the thought in my mind to get some plants and many glasses of champagne later, forgot.
Dana - The picnic was wonderful. I'm actually considering moving to Riverton. The community is delicious. The food was yummy and everyone speaks Italian. Wow!
Lesu - Was that your mom's coleslaw with the mandarin oranges? I'm not a big
slaw fan but that might change me.
June 22
Min
Mozzarella! Mozzarella!
It was a beautiful, first summer day at the Italian Market. The sun was shining and the synthetic flower baskets hung low and danced with the breeze alongside the outdoors seating at Anthony's Cafe. Just across the street and adjacent, is Claudio's Fresh Mozzarella shop. I had been to it just once before when it first opened about 2-3 years ago. I remember trying their buffalo mozzarella (as it should be). I brought it home and served as insalata caprese. For some reason, I had not been back. I don't know why, it was probably a matter of distance and timing. But I never forgot it either, and have always included it as one of the prides of our Italian Market to Philadelphia visitors.
But yesterday, as Kate and I took a short stroll up from Fante's, I found myself walking right through Claudio's double glass and steel doors. It's a small and non-descript place. There is place for one, and just one giant, the Mozzarella. The initial fragrance takes me back to the Portuguese Algarve salt mines. The double glass doors were slightly opened behind the small counter (actually "just the right size," after all, what else do you need besides fresh, mini and cured mozzarella when one is a purist?), and I could hear the splash of mozzarella balls falling into the fresh whey water with a dab of rock salt. If the mozzarella was the artwork, then the rock salt was the paint and the whey water was the palette.
Claudio is a sweet-spoken, down-to-earth, but direct, cheesemaker, exceptionally committed to the art of mozzarella-making. Without a word, he walked back to his shop, and ladled (with his hands) a fresh mozzarella ball, which he sliced for Kate and I to taste. "Oh my God.." The mozzarella was wet from the whey water, the immediate flavor was salty from the rock salt, and the first bite was like sinking into a fluffy feather pillow! I had never before tasted mozzarella this literally fresh, seconds out of his imported, 1,500 pound, Campana mozzarella making machine. I guess the only way it could get any better would have been if I were standing right in front of a 78-year old, olive skinned, mozzarella maker in a cheese shop in Campana, Italy, who had just woven a mozzarella ball out of his bare hands and then offered it to me, which is a compliment to Claudio's.
The mozzarella had a thin and smooth outer layer. Inside were voluminous threads of cheese, moist and seducing to the palate. The bites of mozzarella threads moving in my mouth reminded me of rolling down the grassy Tuscan hills. Finally, the temperature was perfect. The inside had a touch of warmth, like the coming together of two lips in a perfect kiss.
We walked out into the Italian Market with Claudio waving goodbye with one hand and holding his glass doors open with the other. On one arm, I carried my fresh produce and groceries, but on the other hand, fist tightly closed, I hung on to my new treasure, like a kid walking out of a candy store with a baggie full of unexpected sweet treasures, only mine contained a white ball nestled in a cloudy, promising solution...
June 16
Kathy
Mojito Madness
Yesterday we went to the zoo. Perfect day... sunny but not blazingly hot. But even so, after 4 hours traipsing about with two four year olds, I was toast. Tired of walking, hungry for real food, and thirsty.
We grabbed bottles of water, but a hot sunny weekend day seemed to call for something more. What to do? Beer down at the marina overlooking the river? Then it hit me, I have a garden full of mint -- spearmint, peppermint, apple mint, chocolate mint... Let's make mojitos! Mojitos with Rita's water ice!
We bought a pint of Rita's lemon water ice and a jug o' rum then high tailed it home. These mojito's hit the spot... tall, cold and slushy with that minty, limey zing.
Rita's Mojitos
Take 2 tall frosted glasses. Add 2-3 fresh mint sprigs, 2 tsps sugar (superfine, if you have it), 2 tablespoons fresh lime (lemon juice also works but is not quite perfect), 1-1 1/2 ounces of light rum. Mix with a tall spoon taking care to crush the mint leaves agaist the side of the glass. Add Rita's lemon or lime water ice to fill 2/3 of the glass. Top with slezer water or a sparkling lemonade/limeade. (I use Musette's which you can get in the Acme for $2.99/bottle). Mix and add more water ice, as you prefer.
Viola--a refreshing heat beater that you can enjoy with your feet propped up.
May 1
Min
"Mother's Day Reflections"
I was not surprised, but disappointed, when my mom announced that she was not working on her vegetable garden this Spring-Summer. She has recently had knee replacement surgery, and our family was relieved to hear that she was taking it easy.
I must admit that I was a bit sad. And this took me by surprise. You see, indulging in the fruits of her vegetable garden has been our family's traditions. During the spring, summer and early fall seasons, we have not had much of a reason to shop for vegetables in the market. Her organic garden produced:
- at least 3 different types of lettuce (the most buttery leafy greens, micro greens and reds!);
- green onions;
- tomatoes;
- cucumbers;
- a variety of squash, zucchini and pumpkin;
- persimmons;
- peppers;
- eggplant (the sweetest and most velvety!);
- watermelon;
- other Korean leafy greens,
- and still others that I cannot recall at this moment.
Our garden was small, but she tended to her creations with the efficiency and sensibility of a large scale farmer. Everyday, around 4ish, I would see my mom and dad picking up a couple of ingredients to prepare for dinner. Or they would send me with very specific directions on what and how to pick. Now, when I look out the window and see the bare garden, I appreciate my mother's gifts even more.
Growing up, I've always known that my mom has a green thumb. Actually, she just has a special touch for everything. She leaves a productive and nurturing mark in everything and everyone she touches. But her thumb, oh her thumb, is a bright, luscious and fertile green color!
When I was a teenager, my mom would come home from work and excitedly run right past me (as a joke) towards her children, the indoor plants. And she would talk to them, she still talks to them, and they probably talk to her too. She does everything she can to nurture them (consistent theme, huh?). I have seen her tenderly apply a coffee solution to her rubber tree leaves, and a milk concoction to her orchid leaves. As a result, their foliage sparkle with luster and health!
Many a visitors have coveted her plants and left our home with a small pot containing the object of their affection, just to have them returned for rescue three months later. The amazing thing is that she would bring them back to life and to their owner!
As a young lady, my mother learned the art of Korea traditional embroidery. While many traditional design are quickly reproduced by industrial machines these days, it is a rare and superior craft for those who have mastered it by hand. As a seamstress, her work was always highly professional and meticulous. I still get complimented on suits that my mom made for me to grow into when I was a teenager. During those impressionable times, I was the talk of our sweet sixteen birthday parties, when I walked in dressed in one of my mom's creations!
SO WHAT DO GARDENING AND SEWING HAVE TO DO WITH FOOD?
As I reflect upon my mother's gifts and talents, I realize that inasmuch as I've grown to appreciate food, gardening and fashion, I wish I had actually learned how to garden and sew myself!
More significantly, I want to preserve her cooking. My friend, Andrean, who joins us for Sunday dinners, often reminds me to document my mother's recipes. "I know, I know, I know! It is one of my goals!" I say.And it has been for a very long time - to document her
stories and recipes.
How do you document someone's "special touch"? The concept of sharing recipes between mothers and daughters has existed for a very long time. In actuality, it is easier to cook with your mother, than it is to document it on your own.
It is an emotional step. Call it 'separation' or 'objectification.' But part of me has not wanted to acknowledge that there would ever be a reason why I would need to document her recipes. Why would I? After all, she will be with me forever, right? There is also the idea of documenting something that you consider almost holy. It's a bit like the idea of not creating images of God. How could I possibly try to transfer the magic of her cooking onto a 2-dimensional plane?
Knowing that it would be impossible to recreate her special touch alone, unless I could bottle it in a jewel-like vial and auction it at Sotheby's, it is high time I start documenting her cooking, not with a pen, paper or recorder, but with the one tool that she has equipped me with, my own special touch. Thanks, Mom! Let's get cooking!
April 30
Kathy
Dreams Come True
I went to a search engine optimization course last week. What could that possibly have to do with cooking? Well... we have a website and getting ideas to make it better is a good thing...but I was there for my "real job." It was a fairly technical conference but sitting next to me was a foodie! Coincidentaly, sitting 2 seats to my left was a woman who's love for food led her to start a specialty cooking tools business -- Savior Vivre.
It was an object lesson... a reminder that they only thing standing between you (or me) and our dream is a leap of faith in oursselves.
Donna already caters when small groups call. She has done weddings, showers and other events. As a group, Forking delicious has catered an art opening and donated our cooking skills to be auctioned off at fundraisers. Both Donna and Renee have been talking about giving cooking lessons.
Just a leap of faith...
and her sous chef, Jim.
April 19
Lesu
Growing up in an Indian-American household, I should have a love of
peppers. Wrong! I remember my mother's curry being distinctly
different from my father's; hers was subtle and comforting, his, brash
and hot and too much for me to handle. I would watch him bite in to
peppers from the back yard (organic!) and cringe, vowing at all costs
to avoid spicy food, especially anything with resembling one of those
peppers. I had no idea what they were called and did not care.
Now, thirty years later, I find myself taking an interest in these
little...what? Vegetables? Fruits? Plants? Not too many people
like green bell peppers but the sweetness of a red, orange or gold
bell pepper doesn't seem so much like a pepper as fruit. I remember
the first one I roasted, thinking the directions were wrong when it
came time to wrap it in a paper bag and being amazed a while later at
how easily the skin slid off. Tossed with capellini and garlic butter
and requisite Parmesan became one of my favorite effortless meals.
Not long ago, I risked a store-bought jalapeno to try my hand at
guacamole (also, my first foray with limes but that's another story).
It came out nice, so more were purchased at Reading Terminal.
Bam!!!! It completely kicked the guacamole up many notches and helped
bring out the flavor of other ingredients, washed down well with an
ice cold beer. I slowly started adding a slowly to other foods, like
soup; in the winter, it helped create a nice warm glow all around, not
spicy but adding a little heat that was very welcome. Whenever my
knife slices into the skin, I always remember Penelope Cruz in "Woman
On Top" giving a lesson a handling a pepper. Such a great scene!
The jalapeno was a good pepper to start off with in terms of heat.
Everyone knows it and it's found almost everywhere, but my preference
are produce-specific markets; you get more using less. It's time to
move on to a new one but which? As a novice in the pepper world, I am
not ready to emulate my father (like one of my sisters eagerly does
and doesn't bat an eye). But it is interesting to look at the other
assortments out there, recognizing names from recipes, like ancho
chile, and Scotch Bonnets, which I've heard to stay away from unless I
want hair on my chest. Nonetheless, I hope I found a little of the
heat my dad enjoyed.
February 16, 2007
Donna
V Day
The weather was quite messy this past Valentines Day, but one must go on. I had this wonderful dinner planned that centered on wine and champagne. What went wrong? Due to the weather, by the time I went to the liquor store it was closed. You should have seen me standing in front of the store shocked and dismayed. Shouldn’t there have been some type of city warning;
ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
LIQUOR STORE CLOSING EARLY ON VALENTINE’S DAY
DON’T DELAY
GET YOUR LIBATIONS EARLY
So, after standing in front of the store with others that were equally outraged, I went on my merry way home. Regrouping my thoughts, I remembered that next door to Jim’s workplace is a wine store. He wouldn’t be home until 8, so I still needed to rethink my menu -- my cheeses, grilled shrimp and French bread with champagne were served with wine. So, my Cornish hens with a white wine reduction became Cornish hens with a sweet, thick and succulent raspberry liqueur reduction. The red wine risotto became risotto with dried cranberry. When making risotto, the wine is usually added before you begin adding the chicken broth; but it was really ok without. I had no dessert planned since we were having dinner so late and our starter was much more than a nibble.
All in all it was romantic and forking delicious.
Menu
Asiago fresh herb cream cheese
Grilled shrimp
French bread
Honey goat cheese
Smoked gouda
(I was able to buy very small amounts of the cheese’s from this wonderful store called Grocery at 13th & Chestnut. I will tell you more about them another time.)
Cornish hens with a raspberry liquor sauce
Risotto with dried cranberries
Roasted carrots with fresh thyme
Wine
February 12, 2007
Donna
The Funeral
My very last uncle passed away last week, my mother’s youngest brother. When someone was needed to prepare the food for the repast I jumped at the chance. What better way to honor someone then by cooking for them, dead or alive. It was to be just clean simple traditional food, nothing fancy.
My sisters Andrea and Tinamarie agreed to help. Tinamarie and I did the shopping and put a plan into effect how and when we would prepare the food. I am not a fan of preparing food in advance, but I had to be real. The viewing was at 10 am and the funeral was at 11 am; there was no way we would be successful starting the morning of.
I took off work but Andrea and Tinamarie had to work that day, but they were off work in enough time, with me prepping to get the job done. Jim was off as well so I had enlisted his help too.
The funeral was scheduled for Tuesday. I slept late that day before, just glad to be home from work despite the funeral the next day. I woke up around 8 am and slipped out of bed as to not disturb Jim… went down to the kitchen, made coffee and began to cook. I didn’t put on the TV or any music. It was very soothing, just me the food and my thoughts. Jim came down to get started on the task I had given him in advance, peel the sweet potatoes. Noticing I was in a zone, he told me how good the house smelled and retreated back upstairs. He didn’t know, but I already finished the sweet potatoes.
Before I knew it the day was half over and I was done. I called Andrea and Tinamarie to let them know that after their day at work they could go directly home. Needless to say, they were surprised, but not really, I had finished and was thrilled to be able to go home knowing we had a very long day ahead of us with going to the funeral and serving the food at the repast. Tinamarie still came over when she was done work with champagne in hand.
100 Family and Friends
Ginger Honey Chicken
Mac and Cheese
String beans with garlic
Toss Salad
Candied Sweet Potatoes
Punch
Coffee and Tea
February 13
Min
Cream Scones
Like an empty bell
A steel bowl
Glistens with a splash of blush
A white veil settles under the fog
Pure flour, sugar, baking powder and salt
Swirl and rise like a cyclone
Binding to sharply scarred and bitter chocolate skeletons
A milky white lagoon, chilled by winter winds
Nestles in an atoll
Cut through again and again
Forced by volcanic eruptions
Coral reef, ocean and life enmesh
Tempered by darkness
Pure cream
Infuses oceanic air.
February 1
Kathryn
It’s time for a confession.
I am squeamish about cooking with live creatures. It works me up to think about serving freshly cooked crabs or lobsters… even shellfish. I’m sure, if I really thought about it, I would obsess about the screams of the fresh greens as a tossed them in hot oil and garlic. I don’t like killing things.
In a few weeks we are having our February event -- The Valentine’s Aphrodisiac Costume Ball. Our menu theme is… you got it… aphrodisiacs. Even better – finger food aphrodisiacs.
A fleet of ideas around got tossed about in my head… figs, asparagus, honey, chilis, chocolate. But a week or so ago, I had a brain storm. More than anything, I wanted to serve my food girls something splashy… something dramatic and equal to their enthusiasm and talents. And the thing that really resonated for me were gorgeous, plump, crisply-mineral oysters on the half shell in a dollop of champagne. Yes – I borrowed the idea from James on 8th, but it’s perfect! And it’s a challenge for me. Isn’t that part of the fun… stepping out of your comfort zone?
The more I thought about it, the more I loved it… served on a bed of crushed ice… or rock salt… or seaweed (if I can find it). So I began my research. What to buy. Where to buy. How to store. How to shuck. And in that last bit, I remembered. Oh my god, they’ll be live when I pry open the shell. I’ll be breaking and entering, cutting them out of their little opalescent home, and killing them. Rrrraaagghghg.
This was all tonight within the last few hours. I’m not vegetarian. I eat meat… the sanitized versions I buy at the market… plastic wrapped, styro-packed, disconnected from the animal stuff. I lived in Europe… I was at the pig slaughter. I ate the freshly grilled lamb. Hell, I even went and helped pick out the Thanksgiving turkey one year. ( also hugged it and tried to be extra nice to it while my friends paid and discussed the day of its execution.) Did I enjoy eating him. Yes, I did. But I still felt bad meeting him.
Shellfish… they aren’t cuddly. They don’t have feathers or fur, or big brown eyes. But I’ve seen the Alice and Wonderland drawings where they oysters walk down the beach, their skinny little legs in striped socks, with the Walrus and the Carpenter –
“…a pleasant walk,
a pleasant talk
along the briny beach.
We cannot do
with more than four
to lend a hand to each.”
Will I bail out at the last moment and serve roasted baby red potatoes, re-stuffed and topped with caviar? Will the thought of the tiny oysters gasping for air do me in? Or will I toughen up?
Stay tuned… We do our thing on February 17th
January 9, 2007
Donna
Clean Up
Last night I came home to the many dirty glasses left over from Sunday’s feast. I began my clean up and realized there was nothing for dinner. We didn’t have any leftovers! I looked in the fridge, nothing but champagne. I looked in the freezer, of course nothing but frozen food. I spotted a filet mignon tip and wondered what would happen if I cooked it straight from the freezer. I was starving so I took a chance. The worst that could happen, it would be tough.
I drizzled the filet, which was no larger then the palm of my hand, with olive oil and sprinkled the top with salt, pepper and garlic powder, then popped it into a preheated oven of 400 degrees. I opened a bottle of champagne, and continued washing what seemed like hundreds of glasses, awaiting my filet.
The smell was heavenly. I took it out of the oven at maybe 20 minutes and stuck it under the broiler for less then 5 minutes, then took it out and let it rest. I made a succulent steak salad.
You should grab filets whenever you see them. It’s a nice treat and, depending on the market, they are not expensive. I shop at Super Fresh most often.
