SoupSpoon

as promised

A few months ago Stephen's sister, Allison, mentioned that she would like my recipe for baked penne and cheese.  I take cooking favors extremely seriously and wanted to write it up for her ASAP, but prior to right this minute there has not been a formal recipe. ( I know, I know). Every batch was slightly different based on what cheese I had, what pasta I had, and what mood I was in. I could have simply made a batch right then, recorded the recipe, and have fulfilled my promise, right? Promise fulfilled and no guilty conscience; why have I waited? WELL, a certain resident in the cubbyhole really should not do dairy in large quantities, and I, therefore, would be left to eat an entire dish of cheese baked pasta by myself. As tempting as that might sound in certain phases of the moon, I have shown better judgment. I told myself that at just the right time, with just the right guests, I will make her a recipe.

Tonight is the night! We have just the right guests, just the right menu, and thus Allison finally gets her recipe. In a few hours I will sit down to the table with friends, and do my best to eat seconds of gooey-cheesy-baked-pasta smothered in crispy golden breadcrumbs. Yes, fulfilling promises is not easy work but you know what they say, someone has to do it.

Consider the recipe a done deal for completely addictive baked penne and cheese. There is also room for substitutions, and you know how I like that. Substitute yellow cheddar for white if you prefer. You may use small shells or elbows instead of penne. If you like a kick, add minced chipotle chilies or jalapeno to the cheese sauce. A pinch of smoked paprika and a kick of chipotle hot sauce is enough to make me swoon. The dish is also lovely with a combination of white cheddar, fontina, and parmesan as the cheese sauce finished with minced oregano. Play up the variations based upon the rest of your meal or leave it as is and enjoy every last gooey fork-full.

Baked Penne and Cheese serves 6 (swoon worthy as promised)

4 tablespoons unsalted butter
6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups milk, warmed slightly
2 cups grated white cheddar
1/4 cup grated pecorino or parmesan
1 pound penne pasta
salt to taste (depending on the salt in your cheese)
black pepper to taste

Topping:
1/2 cup Panko or regular breadcrumbs
1/4 cup parmesan or pecorino cheese
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
black pepper

1. Bring large pot of water to a boil. Cook pasta until almost done (about 7 minutes)
2. Drain and rinse pasta. Set aside (you may cook pasta a day before)
3. In a large pot, melt butter over medium heat. Whisk in flour. (this is called a roux) The roux will be thick. Stir for about 1 minute. Slowly drizzle in milk 1/2 cup at a time. Whisk constantly until the lumps smooth out and the sauce thickens. Stir in cheeses. Taste. Add salt and pepper. (I needed about 1/2 teaspoon salt, but this will depend on what type of cheese you use)
4. Heat oven to 350. Grease an 8 x 12 inch (or equivalent) rectangular casserole dish
5. Toss pasta with cheese sauce and spread in prepared dish*
6. Mix topping ingredients together and spread evenly over top of pasta
7. At this point you may refrigerate it and bake later. If you bake it right away, bake for 20 minutes until golden and bubbly. If you are baking after chilling it, set in cool oven and heat oven to 350. Bake for 40 minutes.

*If your dish is freezer safe, freeze it at this point for up to one month. When ready to eat, defrost in fridge over night, top with bread crumb mixture, and bake for 40 minutes at 350 until golden and bubbly

the A-Team

As I took the photos for today's post, I started smirking to myself. The Asparagus and Artichoke spring vegetable team made my mind immediately wander to the 80's action series. I laughed at the image of a gold chain around a skinny asparagus. Despite no brawn, asparagus does have the hair for the job.

Do you remember the sky high flat-top mohawk, black and red van, cigars, and gold chains? Of the entirely limited, extremely censored television in my house as a child, we were surprisingly privy to the exaggerated violence of this 80's action series. Children learned mottoes such as, "It takes a smart guy to play dumb", one can never wear too much gold around one's neck, and a rear wing adds intimidation to a GMC van. For these invaluable lessons, we have Mr. Bad Attitude Baracus to thank. I now understand why mom was so entirely limited on what television we were allowed to view, but honestly I am not quite sure why the A-Team made it on the approved list alongside Little House on the Prairie, Highway to Heaven, the Waltons, and the occasional vintage cartoon. Yes, that pretty much sums up the list. I told you it was entirely limited. Maybe this is a window into my brain as to why I am so utterly entirely amazed at seemingly small simple things. We actually read and played when we were kids. As you know, we have lived without a television for years, and thus the amazement with and awareness of simple things continues to grow exponentially. My TV trivia is limited and quite archaic and I actually feel completely unapologetic about it. 

Never the less, today's post brought back memories from my childhood and whether you know about that A-Team or not, you are sure to appreciate this one. I just love that two of the iconic spring vegetables begin with A. It seems so tidy and organized. As lovely as this team is, I will agree that they give off quite an intimidating air. With a bit of step-by-step empowerment, you will be steaming an artichoke, roasting asparagus, and loving every second of getting to know them. I think you will find they are much nicer than they seem.

Look for artichokes that are heavy, green and not too brown, and the leaves (petals) are tightly packed. 

How to Prepare an Artichoke for Steaming
1. Cut off bottom stem
2. Cut off top
3. Peel off bottom layer of petals
4. Snip sharp tips from each remaining petal (optional but smart)
5. Immerse in lemon bath (juice from half a lemon in a big bowl of water) or vinegar water (1 tablespoon vinegar in water) to maintain color until steamed

How to Steam and Eat an Artichoke

After you have prepared the artichoke as listed above, place in a steamer basket above 1-2 inches of water in the bottom of a large pot. Cover with lid and steam on high for 30 minutes. Check at least once to make sure the water has not all evaporated. The choke is finished when the petals fall easily when pulled. Serve with lemon juice, melted butter for dipping, or for an over the top bite serve with dill butter. Once the choke is steamed and you have your butter ready, simply pull one petal from the choke, dip in butter, and literally scrape the flesh from the inside of each petal with your teeth. Do not try to eat the actual petal. Then once you get to the heart, scoop it out with a spoon and share it.

Now for my favorite way with asparagus, roasted. Sure, you may steam it, boil it, grill it, but I really love roasting it. The best way to remove the tough ends from asparagus is to snap them. They will naturally break where they are tender. Hold a piece near the bottom and snap gently. The tough part of the stalk with break from the tender uppers. Dispose of the bottoms, and set the rest aside.

Roasted Asparagus

1 bunch asparagus
1 tablespoon olive oil
pinch of salt
a few cracks black pepper
1 teaspoon lemon zest (optional)

1. Heat oven to 400. Snap ends from asparagus and rinse stalks with water. Leave them a bit wet and spread in one even layer on a baking sheet or pyrex dish
2. Drizzle with oil and toss around to cover the pieces as best you can. Salt and pepper just a touch
3. Roast for 14-17 minutes until tender and bright green. Sprinkle with lemon zest and serve

A perfect meal would be a steamed artichoke with a bit of melted dill butter, roasted asparagus, a hunk of sourdough bread, a few radish slices, a slice of sharp cheddar or for total luxury--- a fillet of grilled fish.
H-e-l-l-o- SPRING!

Now that you know the secret handshake, it is time to join the A team.

Rhubarb in the Perfect Pie Crust

Last year we welcomed spring with our sassy sour friend, Rhubarb, in a rhubarb strawberry pie. With the last slice of the season we began the year-long anticipation for spring to come again. Amidst the mucky April showers, happy red rhubarb made her way into our basket, and this morning made her way into a pie.

Fortunately, there are a myriad of good reasons to bake a pie... rhubarb in the fridge, it is Friday, it is raining... Feel free to just pick one and go with it. Maybe you fear the crust part. Understandable, but with a little instruction and cheer-leading, I believe you can do it.

There are just a few things to keep in mind:
1. When you finish with the messy flour part, you will have a fresh hot made-from-scratch pie steaming on the counter. (Doesn't that alone make it worthwhile?)
2. Keep the butter cold and work quickly. This will ensure a flaky crust.
3. Be gentle with the dough and avoid over working it or the crust might be tough.
4. Have someone lined up to share the first slice.

My Aunt Valerie taught me how to make this pie crust when I was eleven years old. Her Thanksgiving preparation starts one month in advance, and the list of pies grows extensively as the days pass. They all use this same crust technique. Needless to explain any further, she is pretty much an expert at pie crusts, and I was a lucky little kitchen companion that received a one-on-one tutorial. Follow this recipe for a perfect crust. If you would like instructions on making a lattice top for the pie, Simply Recipes has this great photo how-to guide. I think you can. I think you can. I think you can.

Rhubarb Strawberry Pie
When strawberries are brilliantly red and sweet, this pie needs only 1 cup white sugar. My berries were not quite that sweet yet, and so I used 1 1/2 cups white sugar. Alter the quantities depending upon your berries.

2 1/2 cups of 1/4 inch thick sliced rhubarb
4 cups thinly sliced strawberries (2 16 oz containers)
1 1/2 cups white sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
a few pinches of fresh ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup cornstarch
1 perfect pie crust recipe

1. Simmer fruit with sugars, spices, and salt over medium low heat until a bit bubbly. About 10 minutes. Pull out 1/3 cup of juices and mix in a small bowl with the cornstarch to make a slurry. Add slurry back to pot and stir constantly for 4 minutes until very thick. Remove from heat
2. Let cool completely and then make pie crust
3. Preheat oven to 450
4. Lay bottom crust in pie plate and pour filling into crust. Top with crust and cut a few slits in the top crust or follow the tutorial on making a lattice top. Brush the top with an egg wash or a bit of milk if desired and sprinkle with white or raw sugar (optional, but pretty)
5. Bake for 10 minutes at 450 and then turn oven to 350 and bake for about 35 more minutes
6. Enjoy with a dollop of fresh whipped cream or vanilla bean ice cream

spanakopita, delicious stewardship

You might find yourself in the same situation I did. You purchased one bunch of dill for the barely over 2 tablespoons needed in the dill butter, and now feel compelled to save the whole pretty lot from wilting away in your fridge. This situation led me down the path of spanakopita, and the worry of wilting dill has been completely washed away.

If you are, let's say, an auto mechanic, I imagine that you notice what type of car people drive and how it sounds.  Or if you are a musician, you could probably list what bands your friends like most. This should be no surprise, but my observations are most keen for what the people in my life love to eat.

In my head, it is impossible to separate certain people from certain foods. Helen, my mother-in-law, will forever be linked with dill. I remember one summer afternoon when Stephen and I were dating, we made lunch at his parent's home. We layered a platter with smoked salmon, roasted potatoes in dill vinaigrette, and a green salad. Helen joined us around the table on the back deck, and still today when dill is mentioned, I see her, head back, eyes closed in full enjoyment saying how completely utterly much she loves it. With nearly the same enthusiasm, she loves spanakopita which makes these last two posts practically an ode to her.

The typical frozen chopped spinach spanakopita has never excited me. This, my dear readers, is not that, trust me. A few years ago I started making this neauvou version that completely redeemed my opinion of spanakopita. Fluffy, rich, bursting with herbs, this is delicious hot from the oven or cold on a picnic. On its own or alongside a Greek salad, grilled fish, or white beans, this makes a lovely lunch or a simple supper. Stewardship matched with functionality, be still my heart.

Spanakopita makes an 8 x 8 or an 8 x 12
this recipe works well in a square or rectangular dish, just lay phyllo appropriately to fit your dish

1 cup diced yellow onion
2 cups packed fresh baby spinach (1, 5 oz bag)
1/2 cup minced fresh dill
1/2 cup minced fresh parsley
1 cup crumbled feta
4 oz crumbled chevre or other mild goat's cheese
1/2 teaspoon salt
few good cracks black pepper
about 20 sheets phyllo dough
6 tablespoons melted unsalted butter

1. Thaw phyllo according to package directions (no, I do not expect you to make your own phyllo). Sauté onions in a touch of melted butter for 10 minutes over medium low heat until they are golden
2. Heat oven to 350
3. Toss hot onions with spinach, dill, and parsley. Toss in feta and chevre
4. With a brush, thinly grease dish with a touch of the melted butter. Lay one piece of phyllo across bottom of the dish and brush gently with butter. You need to work kind of quickly, but be careful with the phyllo because it tears easily. Also, if 2 or 3 pieces of phyllo are stuck together, do not panic it will still work just fine. Lay them down and brush the top layer with butter. Follow this phyllo, butter, phyllo, butter pattern until you have 8-10 pieces of phyllo on the bottom of the dish
5. Spread spinach mixture evenly over phyllo. Layer phyllo, butter, phyllo, butter again on the top until you have 8-10 pieces of phyllo. Brush the top with butter
6. Bake for 25-30 minutes until the phyllo is golden. Let cool slightly, cut and serve.
Enjoy cold or warm. To reheat, cut a slice and heat gently in oven or toaster oven. The microwave could make the phyllo sort of gooey

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

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