SoupSpoon

a dilly of a week

Like I said before, I commonly fixate on preparing something and do not relent until it is safely sealed in the fridge or on the counter. This week while I was busy enjoying every second of the visit with my mom, the longing for a whipped dill butter kept swirling around in my head. Mind you, the dill butter faced stiff competition when I started finding things in Mom's closet like this dip-n-flip Crepe maker. I laughed mockingly at the ingenuity (laziness) of a dip and flipped crepe, but I must admit there is something to be said for consistently perfect crepes hot off the pan. The entirely professional procedure for this device is to make the batter in the shallow lid, heat up the pan, dip the pan into the batter, and flip the pan over. The crepe is ready in 45 seconds. Wow! Are you a little surprised that every household does not come with one of these? A standard stocked appliance? Whether or not it is a needed item, I love that Mom still has things like this, in their original box, purchased nearly thirty years ago. If you can believe this, she let me bring it home! Certainly this will not be the last word on crepes; dipped and flipped or otherwise.

We talked our way through two days of tea and a loaf of orange sweet potato clove bread that elicited rave reviews from Mom. I feel like those few days were a gift that we should give ourselves again sometime soon.

On top of the time with Mom, I spent a few hours with my nieces and nephews. My niece and I biked in the afternoon sun and then made earrings from African beads. My nephew discovered a love for radishes with a pinch of salt, and my other nephew mapped a treasure hunt for us that required a shovel at the X. Honestly, it is good to be an aunt.

Yes, through all of that, I dreamt about a dill butter. A dollop on a hot baked potato, a schmear on sourdough toast, a bit melting on grilled asparagus; oh my! This had to be made.
The possibilities are almost endless. Make a batch, and tell me how you use it.   

Dill Butter makes 1/2 cup
1/2 cup unsalted good quality butter (1 stick), completely softened
1 tablespoon minced vidalia green onion (if you can not find them, substitute a shallot)
2 tablespoons and 1 teaspoon minced fresh dill
1/4 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1. With a hand mixer, whip minced vidalia, dill, lemon juice, salt, and pepper into softened butter. Schmear it on toast, crackers, radish sandwiches, eggs.... enjoy every last bit

orange, clove, sweet potatoes... here we go!

Today has finally crept around the corner and made herself known. Myrtle and I are loading up for a two day visit at the beach with my mom, and I am giddy with anticipation. Stephen asked me what Mom and I would do, and I confidently replied that we would do as we always do. Sit in the rockers, drink pots of tea, and talk. Talk until it might be hard to talk anymore.

One of my earliest childhood memories is of sitting, legs dangling, at the red and white polk-a-dot kitchen table, eating a small bowl full of hot stewed apricots while Mom showed the utmost interest in my preschool aged stories. Many many mornings were spent just like that, being listened to and being taught.
Mom is one of those gifted listeners. Amazingly balanced for she has an endless list of fascinating things to share, and she seems to know just when to share them and just when to ask a gentle question instead. I long to develop this in my own life, but sometimes fall drastically (crappily) short.

Perhaps a visit with your Mom does not conjure the best of feelings. I am sorry. We all have been given different gifts and different tests, and I bet you are stronger in some way because of it.
Enjoying my family is a gift that I know is unique and special.

For the past few years of my married life, sans children, Mom has spent more time with the other daughters that do have little angels that adorably beg for time with their Nonna. I try to not take it personally, but enough is enough! Here we go, me and the grand-dog for a two day lock-down of Mom time. Kettle get ready.

One must have something to slice and butter alongside all of that tea, and this is just the thing. The recipe makes 4 mini loaves. That makes me love it even more because you have plenty to share with neighbors, moms, and friends. The loaves are ultra moist, and do not need butter, but... well... a schmear never hurts.

Orange Sweet Potato Clove Bread makes 4 mini loaves or 2 regular loaves

2 cups roasted smashed sweet potatoes
1/3 cup unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup white sugar
2/3 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup molasses
1/4 cup orange juice
1 1/2 teaspoons orange zest
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground clove

1. Heat oven to 350. Cream potatoes, butter, sugars, molasses, orange juice, zest, salt, and vanilla. Beat in eggs
2. Stir dry ingredients well to combine. Gently fold the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients
3. Scoop evenly into greased loaf pans. Bake 4 minis for 35 minutes or 2 regular loaves for about 50 minutes until toothpick comes out clean. enjoy

scones to make you daydream

Tomorrow is the Vernal Equinox. Besides being grateful for spring, I am grateful for this day each year because it was the first day I spent with Stephen. Not a date, we actually did not even speak, we were just simply beside one another.

The few times I had caught a glimpse of this man, prior to the equinox, was from underneath a chef hat as I peeked out of the kitchen to watch the cute guy order a coffee from the barista. I did not know anything about him, but I was caught by his bright heart.

A might bit of a crush you could say; we had never met or spoken.

Then on the Vernal Equinox I went to a midnight Yoga class to welcome the season. After focusing my tired mind and rolling out my mat, I glanced at the people around me. There he was, beside me. I had unknowingly put my mat down beside the cute guy with the bright heart.
You know the moment when you make a decision and your heart does a two-step? Like watching a glass tumble from the edge of the counter that you set it on? Half giddy and half panicked, I quickly contemplated moving, but that would be obvious and potentially rude. So I stayed put, beside him.

I left the class just a minute early. The next morning he came in the restaurant for a coffee. This time, the barista was gone. I came out of the kitchen, poured him his coffee, and he asked my name.

Vernal Equinox reminds me to take a fresh look. Spring is here, summer is coming, and love grows when we least expect it. At the time, it was just a gut feeling, a crush. Now I can not remember the threads of my life being separate from his. happy sigh.

Though I could go on and on and on about all of that, I must tell you about these sweet little scones. Not much of a transition there, was it? I feel a little like I was startled out of a daydream and realized I was supposed to be giving you a recipe. Well, anyways. We are all friends here.

One of the lucky finds from Saturday's used book store trip was Tom Douglas' Seattle Kitchen Cookbook which has this recipe for Cherry Almond Scones. Since our jaunt to New York City I have dreamt about the cherry almond scone we shared at Jack's Stir Brew. Making a batch has been on my mental wish list, and after finding this recipe in Tom Douglas' book, I gladly crossed it off.

They are, as you can tell, beautiful. Even more than all of that, they are a good balance of flavor. Not too sweet, not too heavy, just right.

I think you should get to baking. Invite someone over, make tea, and share a story about an important day in your life. Something about the scones makes you want to be really nostalgic. No really, I am serious! These are not your average scone.

Cherry Almond Scones makes 8 (I cut mine smaller and made 10)
recipe from Tom Douglas' Seattle Kitchen

For the Scones:
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt (I used 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt)
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
10 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small dice
1/2 cup dried cherries, chopped
1/2 cup toasted blanched sliced almonds, cooled
3/4 cup buttermilk (I used 1 cup)
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon almond extract (I will do 1/2 teaspoon next time)

For Brushing the Scones:
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup sugar (I used half and half  instead of cream and  only needed 2 tablespoons and 2 tablespoons sugar)

1. Preheat the oven to 425. In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, powder, soda, salt, zest. Using a pastry cutter or two knives (like I showed you for biscuits) , cut in butter until it resembles crumbly cornmeal. Mix in cherries and almonds
2. Gradually pour in buttermilk and mix with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula until just combined. Do not overmix. Turn out onto a floured surface and pat into a 9-inch round about 1 inch thick. Cut the dough into wedges. Place the scones on a parchment or silpat lined baking sheet. Brush them with cream and sprinkle them with sugar. Bake for 10 minutes and then reduce heat to 350 and finish baking until golden and cooked through. This takes another 12-15 minutes. Serve warm.

pea, mint, cherry, lamb

When I sit to write to you, I sometimes wish you were here in our little cubbyhole sharing my pot of tea, because I think it would help me to explain how amazing this or that is if you could watch my hand motions and if I could see your eyes. As pretty as the pictures are, and as much as I will pull out all stops to use the most descriptive adjectives available, I wonder if I am getting across the full gusto of my appreciation.
Really, what I am about to share with you must not come across ho-hum.

The thought of a real Saturday carried me through every day of last week. Stephen and I planned to make no plans and simply let the weather carry us through our day together. We lingered over coffee and breakfast. Then we biked (yes! After the last one's disappearance, I found an old Schwinn that is absolutely becoming a favorite) in the glorious chilly spring sunshine to our local used book store, and were incredibly lucky!

After spending an hour searching the stacks, we biked to the pool for a swim. Long smooth strokes in a quiet belly of water open the mind to wander and calm, and that was just what the doctor ordered.
We biked home just in time for a dark thunderstorm and lunch; grateful for the morning and a new stack of books.

After 50 pages and a few glasses of Gnarly Head Cabernet Sauvignon, we started talking about what we would make for supper. This, my friends, is of course a favorite conversation. I had been thinking about a fresh pea and mint salad from Trail of Crumbs, and if one is going to have mint one might as well have lamb.

We started our menu with a lovely mint pea salad in a crème fraîche dressing topped with crispy fried pancetta, and just like that, this is what we designed:

Panko and Coriander crusted Lamb Rib Chops with Spring Cherry Reduction
over Fresh Pea Salad with Mint, Crème Fraîche, and crispy fried Pancetta.

So. Now is it even more clear why I wish I could fully express with big eyes and gesticulations how perfectly amazing this was? Gastronomically, astronomically amazing.

In the pea salad, we used Sopressata because Whole Foods was out of Pancetta, and it was a fine substitute. The salad was delicious as is, but I might use about half the amount of crème fraîche next time, or bump up the quantity of peas and fava beans.

The meal was everything we could have hoped. Complete with another thunderstorm pounding outside the open windows as we dined. Even now I am grinning ear to ear.

Today a friend asked, "What was the best day of your life?" Oh my! That is a question with many answers, but if I could say what a perfect sort of day would be, this would be near the top.

Here is to a perfect sort of day coming your way soon.

Panko and Coriander crusted Lamb Rib Chops with Spring Cherry Reduction serves 2

For Cherry Reduction:
1/2 cup fresh or frozen cherries (not tart), chopped
1 1/8 cup sweetened cherry or cranberry juice

For Lamb Rib Chops:
4 Lamb Rib Chops (each one is two ribs)
1/2 cup Panko* breadcrumbs
1 teaspoon dried ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon salt
cracks of fresh black pepper

1. In a small sauce pan over medium heat, reduce cherries in juice for about 20 minutes until about 1/3 cup quantity. Set aside
2. Spread panko in a shallow dish and mix well with coriander and salt. Dredge all sides of each chop in panko and set aside
3. Heat a drizzle of olive oil in a medium sized skillet over medium heat. Lay each chop  in skillet and crack fresh black pepper over each one. Let cook 3 minutes and then flip over. If you like your meat medium rare, The chops should cook another 4-5 minutes on the back side and be finished. I do not like lamb rare, and so after pan searing the outside I finished them in a 400 degree oven for 8 minutes. They were tender and perfect
4. Lay rib chop over pea salad or other salad of choice, and drizzle cherry reduction over chop. Enjoy.

*Panko is a Japanese breadcrumb sold at most grocery stores or specialty markets

because it is green

Good morning.
Monday is St. Patrick's Day. I had all intentions of writing about the ever appropriate Irish Soda Bread, but I could not do it. I could not write about the bread, as good as it is, because my heart had wandered to something bright, brilliant, and green.

Arugula, with all your peppery zip and honest finish, if I were a vegetable I would hope to be your friend. On this mid-March line between winter and spring, finding fresh gorgeous arugula made me do a little shimmy, right there in the store. Then! Myrtle and I saw a whole heap of arugula growing tall in a neighbor's yard. Oh boy it feels good to see things grow.

The sun did not set last night until after 7:30pm. I was able to cook with the windows open, a few candles lit, and just the faintest little light turned on over the stove. With a few simple chops and the whirl of the Cuisinart, the zing of lemon and the fresh green scent of arugula and parsley burst into the air like a warm afternoon in the sun. Next Thursday is the first day of spring, and little moments like that make it seem so much more true.

That is one of my favorite things; cooking in the light of a setting sun. Most of yesterday was spent outdoors. When my body is tired, my belly empty, and my face warm with sun, there is no better moment to me than standing at the cutting board with a heap of pretty things.

When it was all said and done, the brilliant green was exactly what a pesto should be. The deep creamy  flavor of the toasted nuts, the peppery bite of arugula, and the light zing of lemon balanced one another perfectly. We tossed a spoonful with noodles and balsamic glazed baby bella mushrooms. Perfection in every bite.

Therefore, though I am not writing to you about Irish Soda Bread, I am writing about a rather perfect pesto that is, coincidentally, quite appropriately dressed for that lucky leprechaun day.

Arugula and Parsley Pesto makes 1 cup

1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted
1/4 blanched slivered almonds, toasted
3 cloves garlic
1 small lemon (2 tablespoons juice)
2 cups washed arugula leaves
2 cups washed flat-leaf parsley
1/3 to 1/2 cup good quality olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt

1. Toast pine nuts and almonds in dry skillet over medium heat for 3 minutes or in 350 oven for 3 minutes until just golden. They will burn quickly so keep a close eye
2. Put toasted nuts, garlic, lemon juice and half of the olive oil in food processor, and purée until smooth
3. Add in arugula, parsley, remaining olive oil, and salt. Purée until smooth. If the pesto is too thick add a touch more olive oil. I used the whole 1/2 cup of oil. Add more salt if that suits you
4. Toss about 2 tablespoons of pesto with every one person's portion of pasta, or use instead of tomato sauce on pizza, or spread a light layer in an omelet, or schmear a bit on a Grilled chicken sandwich, or. or. or. aaah the goodness of green. enjoy.

Proof of the pudding is in the tasting

Most folks can relate to cravings. It is safe to assume most people have fixated on a certain food until they finally got their fill. My cravings typically come in the fashion of something I need to make. Of course I eat it too, but that has nowhere near the forcefield power that the urge to make it does.  I obsess over certain preparations; one month it is soups, then scones, then roasts. Because I process emotions very well through obsessive baking, there are spurts of joy and pouting that materialize on the counter in the form of rugelach or chocolate peppermint cookies. Now, I could call the obsession, Divine inspiration, and make it sound less like a problem. Also, to strengthen the case that the obsess inspiration is other worldly, I typically am inspired to make something that I do not recall having ever eaten. Where else would the inspiration come from? Hmm?

This week the inspiration was for lemon pudding. Creamy, zippy, sweet, and tangy; it just had to be made. I went with the recipe for Sarah Moulton's favorite lemon pudding, but the proportions were a bit too zippy and not enough sweet. After bumping the sugar up 1/4 cup, it quickly became the perfect balance of rich lemon flavor without too much pucker. The pudding's flavor is reminiscent of a key lime pie or my meyer lemon tart. In the words of Stephen,"This is no Jell-O."

After the bowl of creamy sunshine lemon pudding was chilling in the fridge, I was overwhelmed with the desire for every household to have a bowl of pudding chilling in the fridge. It is so lovely just waiting to soothe you with the safe sweet goodness of a gently coated spoon.

Lemon Pudding makes nearly 4 cups
from Sarah Moulton with a few minor changes

1 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
2 1/2 cups milk
3 egg yolks, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
pinch salt
1/2 cup strained fresh lemon juice (3 lemons)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1. Zest the lemons. Squeeze lemon juice through a fine mesh sieve to remove pulp and seeds. Set aside
2. In medium sauce pan, add sugar, cornstarch and milk. Heat over medium heat. Whisk well and when totally combined, whisk in egg yolks, lemon zest, and salt
3. Whisk every few seconds at first and constantly towards the end. The pudding should take about 12 minutes to set. From 5 minutes on, I whisked constantly. The pudding is ready when it coats the back of a spoon, and the whisk is leaving trails across the surface
4. Remove from heat. Add butter and lemon juice. Whisk well. Pour into bowl to chill in fridge. Cover loosely and chill at least 3 hours and up to three days.
5. Enjoy

What is your latest inspiration, food or otherwise?

Coq au Vin

It has been quiet around the cubbyhole for the past few days. My throat and nose started a fight on Monday, and since then I have spent my time trying to make them friends again. Thankfully, aside from the occasional sneeze and the tissue box never more than an arm's length away, life is nearly back to normal. I appreciate your sympathy, but to be honest, this minor tiff of a cold is a piece of cake compared to the nasty brawl many poor souls have been bed-ridden with for weeks. Nothing like spring to send us into a fever.

At least we have eaten well. Come on! You think a cold is going to keep me from the stove? Oh please. Cooking is like medicine only with a much better after taste.

Yesterday was dreary and rainy, just like my nose, and I spent most of it wrapped in a blanket re-reading portions of Trail of Crumbs by Kim Sunée. Which, by the way, comes highly recommended if you swoon over a sultry seductive memoir that chronicles a life through meals, and searches for home in flavors. It is not for the faint of heart, but of course that does not apply to any of you anyway. If you do not already own it, order it here.

After a few chapters in Provence, I tucked my weary self into the kitchen to start a pot of Coq au Vin. Coq au vin has always been the sign of a long cold afternoon spent tucked inside the house. Mom would make it in the crock-pot when I was a little girl, and after simmering all day; there was not a corner in the house that had not been touched by the scent of mushrooms and wine. As a child, I probably did not appreciate its magnificence, but I certainly do now. Mothers always know best, so much sooner than the rest.

Though I surely did not Master the Art of French Cooking in my Coq au Vin, I did heed Julia Child's advice to blanch the bacon prior to browning it. Boiling bacon was a first for me, but I must admit that of course the Genius herself would have been correct, brilliantly correct. Yes, you read that right, boiling the bacon. Who would have thought? Blanching the bacon first draws out the extra salt and smokiness that could overpower the flavor of the whole dish. Stephen said he did not understand why that would be a bad thing, but whatever, you know how he is about pork.

The process is a bit labor intensive, but once you get it to a simmer; you can go back to sneezing, sniffling, and reading on the sofa. Let me know how it goes; the cooking and reading parts.

Coq au Vin serves 4
Serve the chicken over roasted red potatoes or with thick slices of toasted baguette; whichever way you prefer to soak up the very delicious sauce.

1 whole chicken cut into parts or four breasts or legs, whatever suits your preference
4 strips good quality bacon
15-20 pearl onions
8 oz sliced baby bella or button mushrooms
2 bay leaves
2 garlic cloves, whole but lightly smashed with edge of knife
1 teaspoon dried thyme or 2 teaspoons fresh thyme
1/2 cup chardonnay
2 cups pinot noir, merlot or other dry red wine
1 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup all purpose flour plus 2 tablespoons
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon salt or to taste
few cracks black pepper
a bit of olive oil

Prepare the vegetables and bacon
1. Bring one medium size pot of water to a boil. Drop in whole pearl onions and boil for 3 minutes. Strain out pearl onions and bring the water back to a boil to blanch the bacon or boil fresh water for bacon
2. Run pearl onions under cold water until cool enough to handle. Cut off the bottoms and peel off outer skins. set aside
3. Blanch bacon in boiling water for 5 minutes. Drain and set aside
4. Heat large casserole pan or dutch oven with a fitted lid over medium heat and brown bacon on both sides until cooked through. About 10 minutes
5. Remove bacon from pan and set aside. Sauté mushrooms in pan until tender and browned, about 10 minutes. Remove from pan and set aside
6. Add peeled pearl onions to pan and let them get a golden brown finish. After they have a brown edge, add 1/2 cup chardonnay to the pan, and scrape the brown bits off the bottom of the pan. Let the pearl onions sit in the chardonnay until most of the chardonnay has evaporated (about 3 minutes) and then remove the onions and liquid from the pan and set aside

Prepare the chicken
1. Wipe the pan out with a cloth, and add a bit of olive oil just to thinly coat the bottom. Heat pan back up over medium heat. Dredge each piece of chicken in a bit of flour and add to pan. Let sit on one side until golden, about 5 minutes. Flip and brown the other side for 3 minutes
2. Add chicken broth, red wine, thyme, bay leaves, and whole garlic cloves to the pan
3. Turn heat to low and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes. Flip chicken once, add bacon(crumbled) and vegetables to pan, and simmer on low for another 1 1/2 hours. You also could finish the last 1 1/2 hours in the oven if your pan is oven proof. Heat your oven to 300 and cook, covered, after you do the first flip.

To Finish the sauce
1. To prepare a roux in a small sauce pan like pictured above, melt 2 tablespoons of butter over medium low heat. Stir in flour until completely smooth. Let cook, stirring constantly until slightly golden
2. After the chicken has cooked the final 1 1/2 hours, remove the bay leaves and garlic cloves. Ladle 1/2 cup of the wine broth into the small sauce pan with the hot roux and whisk to combine
3. Whisk roux mixture back into chicken pan liquid to thicken the sauce
4. Let cook a few minutes more on stove top or in the oven. Salt to taste and enjoy every last bite

another delicious decision

My mom and dad came for a visit this weekend. We whiled away the weekend with pots of tea, tinkering around town, and drinking a few cold beers topped with a dollop of good old storytelling. The weather completely cooperated and our plan for a Saturday spent walking, talking, and cooking unfolded with monumental success.

As you know, we live in a cubbyhole. This translates to me being in the kitchen, Mom resting on our bed, Dad and Stephen playing backgammon, and all four of us effortlessly having a conversation. You could call it cramped, but I would rather call it cozy or efficient.

Saturday afternoon, Stephen and Dad went to the fish market to pick up something to make for dinner, and they came home with gorgeous Tilapia. A chickpea salad seemed like a nice addition and the delicious decision came after the following conversation:

L*Joy- Chickpea salad with carrots and... hmm. Would you rather have parsley and lemon or orange and basil? Or lemon and basil?
Stephen- Orange sounds good, and basil.
L*Joy- Ok. Maybe lemon and orange with basil.

The delicious decision was made just as simple as that.

After supper, Mom and Dad were privy to our rather hoity-toity theater system. We choose to not own a television, and so when someone suggests a movie; we set the laptop on the table, tilt the screen just right, and turn the volume to nearly 60%. Who needs a flat screen when you have a portable tilt-able screen right on the dining room table? We snuggled up on the futon, with a batch of warm molasses cookies, and enjoyed the closeness.

Oh. sigh. Two finer parents would be hard to find. Perhaps impossible. I miss them already. Hopefully, they will make another good decision and visit again soon.

For now, at least there is the option of this delicious decision, and to be honest, I am ready to make it again too.

Chickpea Citrus Carrot  Salad makes 5 servings

2, 14.5 oz cans chickpeas (garbanzo beans)
4 carrots (about 1 1/2 cups chopped)
1/3 loosely packed cup chopped fresh basil
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon orange zest
3 tablespoons orange juice
1/2 red onion, small diced
1/4 cup olive oil
salt to taste
a few good cracks of black pepper

1. Sauté diced red onion over medium heat in 1 tablespoon olive oil for 5 minutes. Set aside to cool
2. Peel and slice carrots into thin long strips, and then cut into small matchsticks
3. Drain and rinse chickpeas well
4. In a medium mixing bowl, stir together chickpeas, carrots, and onion
5. In a small bowl combine lemon and orange zest and juice and 3 tablespoons olive oil. Whisk briskly to emulsify as best you can and then pour over chickpea mixture. Toss well
6. Add basil. Salt and pepper to taste. enjoy

We served this salad over steamed basmati rice, with garlic rubbed Tilapia, and roasted broccoli.
The salad kept well, and the next day we ate the last bit of it with a hunk of buttered sourdough toast; that was such a fine lunch.