Wooden Table

Tabitha

2012-01-25T20:22:00.001-06:00

The only cooking going on in my kitchen lately has been this little bun in the oven! Tabitha was born Tuesday, January 17, 2012, at 8:27 p.m. She weighed 7 pounds, 6 ounces, and was 21 inches long. Here's a peek at her first few days.

Love Autumnal

2011-10-10T04:00:00.000-05:00

Ryan and I got married one year ago today! Fall is my favorite time of year, and we found a lot of inspiration in the season for our wedding. So in honor of our first anniversary, I took a look back at some of the fall flavors, colors, and details that we incorporated into our big day.

We held our wedding at the magnificent Columbus Park Refectory, an off-the-beaten-path Chicago Park District venue located on the city's West Side. The ceremony was in the covered outdoor pavilion that overlooked a lagoon. With dramatic arched windows on three sides of the building, the surrounding trees provided a natural fall color palette of red, orange, yellow, and green.

Anticipating cool weather, the plan was to warm up our guests with some hot apple cider before the ceremony. I never dreamed temps would reach the 80s, but they did, so we served it chilled instead. (While I was ecstatic that everyone would feel comfortable outside, I was mildly disappointed that it was too warm to wear this cozy red crocheted shrug I had bought on Etsy.)

The ceremony felt very mystical and romantic! Golden late-afternoon light streamed through the pavilion and cast a warm glow all around. Many guests later told us that right before the ceremony began, a swirl of sun-dappled leaves blew right in the spot where we would marry. That is a moment I truly wish I had seen.

Ryan breaks the glass. Mazel tov!

Apple season peaks in October in the Midwest, so we decided to use the fruit as both centerpieces and party favors. About a week before the wedding, I went apple picking with my mom, sister, and future mother-in-law. We picked hundreds of apples (and rewarded our hard work by indulging in some amazing cider doughnuts).

The empire apples, placed in dark woven baskets on each table, added of a splash of red to the dining room. Since the space already had such distinctive colors and decor - with its Spanish-influenced style of dark wood beams, arched windows, and ornate chandeliers - we kept everything else neutral to let the unique details of the room shine through.

We invited guests to take some apples home with them in these little brown bags with hand stamped labels.

The entire apple project turned out to be quite the logistically intensive DIY undertaking - and only one that I recommend if you have your heart set on the idea like I did! - so I was gratified to see our guests, like my 4-year-old nephew, enjoying them.

I wanted everyone to share a meal together that was as seasonal and local as possible. While our catering choices were limited to the CPD's preferred vendor list, our caterer sourced some of the food from Michigan and worked with us to develop a fall-inspired meal. We featured the menu on chalkboard-painted wooden wine crates at the place card table, where the florist added some gourds, flowers, and leftover apples to create a harvest theme.

Dessert was a no-brainer. Every Thanksgiving, Ryan makes pumpkin pies from scratch, and I looooove apple pie (especially a la mode). We offered those two choices with a scoop of vanilla or cinnamon ice cream from this local favorite pie shop.

The kids were all over the dessert table.

But getting back to the apples, they even made their way into our ketubah (a Jewish marriage contract). Ryan's second cousin, a budding artist, drew a tree with 10 red apples to represent our unforgettable wedding date - 10.10.10. Emily pulled it all together with a precious handmade border and designed the tree along a river of our vows that Ryan and I wrote together. Which brings me to the other inspiration for our wedding.

Paddling. Ryan and I first met when I signed up for one of his kayak classes on the Chicago River. Our huppah poles were four hand carved Greenland kayak paddles.

We chose the Columbus Park Refectory because it overlooks two lagoons in the park (originally, we wanted to offer our guests the option of going canoeing but alas, that didn't work out). Our invitations featured paddles, too, and I even walked down the aisle to one of my favorite folk songs, The Water is Wide, while Ryan waited to become my husband.

A poem about autumn and love that a friend read during the ceremony probably best summed up the spirit of our fall-inspired wedding day.

Love Autumnal

By Oliver Jenkins

My love will come in autumn-time

When leaves go spinning to the ground

And wistful stars in heaven chime

With the leaves' sound

Then, we shall walk through dusty lanes

And pause beneath low-hanging boughs,

And there, while soft-hued beauty reigns

We'll make our vows

Let others seek in spring for sighs

When love flames forth from every seed;

But love that blooms when nature dies

Is love indeed

(All photos by the effervescent Candice Cusic and her brave assistant Justin, who showed no fear during the hora.)

Breakfast

2011-07-29T11:03:00.002-05:00

On the rare but special occasions that some of my closest girlfriends get together--all of us from hither and yonder--we carry on a tradition that started a decade ago when we went on the first of many all-girls ski trips.

And that's breakfast.

What is such a routine event in our daily lives becomes a meaningful experience of sharing a meal and starting our day together.

Our breakfasts are neither out of the ordinary nor elaborate. There are no fancy omelettes or fluffy pancakes. Rather we feast on simple but nourishing foods that energize us for the day ahead.

But more than the meal, it's the familiar act of making breakfast that we love.

Like a well-choreographed dance, everyone descends on the kitchen, pulling out cereal boxes, milk, yogurt, and fruit. Deals are made to split bagels, scrambled eggs, and bananas. Someone takes the coffee order while another pulls out plates, silverware, glasses, mugs, and napkins.

Somehow all the food ends up on the counter. When everything is ready, the breakfasting commences.

Cereals are mixed. Milk is poured. Bagels are buttered. Plates are filled. By the time each of us assembles our meal, it might take a good 2-3 trips to get all of it to the table.

Once we are there, both savoring the food and the company, conversation turns to the day ahead, the night before, or some other topic that's probably inappropriate for this blog. There are second helpings and refills and last calls for toasted bread products. We linger a little more.

And then dishes get cleared and washed, food is put away, and bathroom doors slam shut. Those are the beats and rhythms of our breakfasts together. They never change, no matter where we are.

We've done this so many times that we are in harmony. It is effortless to pull this meal together.

We had such a reunion last weekend in Montana, in Ali's new home. It's comforting to know that no matter how far we live from one another, breakfast will always be there to bring us together.

Thanks, Food News Journal!

2011-05-10T18:33:00.002-05:00

Every morning, I start off my day with a cup of coffee and Food News Journal, a daily email of well-curated food links from across the Internets. Yesterday I was honored to see that FNJ featured my blog post Remembering Grandma in the Best of the Blogs section.

Thanks for including me, FNJ!

Remembering Grandma

2011-05-07T09:32:00.014-05:00

The last time I saw Grandma Shirley was 20 years ago. I was a teenager when she passed away--old enough to remember how her fine silver hair framed her elegant features, the bright pink smile she painted on with a tube of lipstick after meals, and how she called me Darling, but too young to have nothing more than fragmented memories of our time together.

The family cookbook that Ryan and I received as a wedding gift has helped to piece some of those memories back together. Ryan and I often find ourselves paging through it to look more at the pictures than the recipes. We start to reminisce about the relatives whom the other has never met, and never will, and before long, some forgotten memory comes out that hasn't been thought of in years.

One thing I recalled about Grandma Shirley, for example, was her glamour. You can tell by the pictures in the book: Grandma in front of the Eiffel Tower, Grandma in red-sequined evening wear, oh, and there's Grandma sitting in between her totally unstylish granddaughters (that's Angie in her band-aid-mending-broken-heart sweatshirt, which I'm sorry to say became a hand-me-down, and me in some snazzy unicorn overalls and wearing barrettes with ribbons cascading in my hair).

I've also thought more about her in the context of food. Frankly, there are no recipes from Grandma Shirley in the book, which makes sense because I remember more about the catered parties she threw than meals she cooked.

I should say here that my mom has told me that Grandma Shirley was a great cook, and I even saw evidence of this when I found her dog-eared copy of The Settlement Cookbook, a popular collection of recipes for Jewish immigrants, last year as we cleaned out their apartment after my grandpa passed away.

In fact, I remember one tasty snack that she made in her white-tiled sun-filled kitchen, hamburger sliders. She'd pop two of them in the toaster oven at a time as I waited, so antsy for the toaster to ding that as soon as it did, I opened the oven door and with a squirt of ketchup on top, shoveled the salty open-faced patties in my mouth, ready for two more.

While I am so lucky to have my other grandma still with me, the ageless Grandma Pearl, Ryan only has his memories to go on. When we had a crazy blizzard this winter (yes, THE blizzard in Chicago that gave me an excused absence from work and created absolute chaos on Lake Shore Drive), he wanted to make a favorite recipe from his childhood. A recipe from his Grandma Inez, who lived in rural Michigan and, rather unconventionally, owned a bar in town but still had time to bake.

As the wind howled and the thundersnow thundered, Ryan and I hunkered down in the kitchen and channeled Grandma Inez and her cookies (prefaced in the cookbook as "a sure fire way to melt Ryan's heart").

Heretofore known as Grandma Cookies, these pillowy, chewy mounds of oatmeal raisin were there at the beginning of Ryan's visits to her home, and gone by the time he left. And when Grandma Inez visited Ryan's family, Grandma Cookies came with her, only to disappear (usually in Ryan's belly), by the time she went home.

We made about 5 dozen cookies that night and probably ate close to three quarters of them, only saving the remaining ones to fortify ourselves for some serious shoveling the next day. And while we had to tinker with the recipe a bit, mainly to keep them in the oven much longer than the recipe called for, I saw a deeply satisfied look on Ryan's face.

But after we had eaten probably half the batch, he suddenly grew quiet and said something heartbreaking. He said that with every cookie he ate, the taste of his grandma's cookies faded more and more.

That is a risk we take when we make the recipes of those who are no longer with us. Can they ever truly taste the same as they did at Grandma's? I don't think so. I know that I could never recreate those hamburger sliders. I don't even remember exactly what they tasted like, just that they were so good and only Grandma could make them that way.

I'm not saying that we shouldn't try to make our family recipes because they couldn't possibly taste the same. Just the opposite in fact. If the trade off is that making an old family recipe helps us to remember those who are no longer with us, I'm willing to take that risk.

Grandma Cookies

2 cups raisins

2 cups sugar

1 cup shortening

4 eggs

4 cups oatmeal

4 cups flour

2 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup water

Put the raisins in a pan and cover with one cup of boiling water (or slightly more). Let raisins sit in the water until the remaining ingredients are ready. Separately, cream together the sugar and the shortening. Then add in the eggs, oatmeal, flour, baking soda, salt, and vanilla. Stir together and then add the raisins and water. Drop a tablespoon of the batter on a cookie sheet. Bake at 350 until the cookies are lightly brown and almost firm when pressed in the center (about 6-9 minutes; then rotate the sheet for another 6-9 minutes for even browning).

Makes 5 dozen and a happy husband!

The Way to a Man's Heart

2011-02-13T12:14:00.002-06:00

There were many upsides to delaying our honeymoon to Belize until the week between Christmas and New Years. For one, and this was big, my office was closed so I only had to take two vacation days for a 12-day trip. And while I don't much mind the snow and cold weather, it was nice to head south for a bit before the long Chicago winter settled into our bones.

But the best part was simply having the energy to enjoy the trip. If we had gone right after the wedding, I would have been too exhausted to do anything, and we like to be active when we travel.

For instance, one of my favorite things to do in Belize was to sip coffee and eat a soul-satisfying breakfast of fresh papaya and granola with yogurt and gaze at the toucans, like the one pictured above, flying by as the sun rose gently above the mountains. It was tiring, I tell you.

We also drank many Belikin beers. Lifting a Belikin is hard work. The glass bottles are about twice as heavy as American beer bottles, so we had to give ourselves a break sometimes by ordering margaritas. And napping on hammocks. Sometimes we did both at once.

But while we made sure to relax, there was too much to experience in Belize to sit around for long. Aside from bird watching (which really does take a surprising amount of mental energy) and Belikin lifting, we snorkeled in the world's second largest barrier reef, canoed past orange iguanas, hiked in a jaguar preserve, learned how to spot wildlife in the dark, biked the rocky dirt road through a Garifuna village, and explored Mayan ruins on foot and in caves.

We also received the warm hospitality and kindness of the Belizean people. Seriously, we met this one man at a bus stop who gave us his phone number and email address and told us to contact him if we needed anything.

Those were all the upsides. The downside, though, was that we missed Christmas with Ryan's family, and their annual gift exchange and dinner. Although I don't celebrate the holiday, we participate in each other's traditions. So it was a big deal to miss Christmas, and we had to make up for it.

After the trip, we hosted Christmas dinner at our place for Ryan's parents and his aunt and uncle. The occasion presented a nice opportunity to mix our traditions. We made brisket, a recipe that shows up at many a Jewish holiday meal, and used my sister's mother-in-law's recipe from the family cookbook that we received as a wedding gift.

My ancestors, who came from Eastern Europe in the late 1800s, probably served brisket at their own special occasions. When winter came, around the time of Hanukkah, families often slaughtered their cows rather than bear the cost of feeding them until spring. The brisket, which comes from the lower chest of a cow, was also a cheaper cut of meat.

This is all according to The Encyclopedia of Jewish Food by Gil Marks, which inspired me to dig up my Grandma Shirley's well worn copy of The Settlement Cook Book that I found on the shelves of my grandfather's kitchen after he passed away last year. The book was first published in 1901 with recipes for Jewish immigrants who settled in the United States. I laughed out loud when I saw the cover which, in a sign of the times, proclaims that these recipes are "The Way to a Man's Heart."

The book includes three different brisket recipes with beans, cabbage, and sauerkraut, which advise: "Place [brisket] in large kettle of cold water" and "Boil until tender." This made more sense when my Grandma Pearl reminded me, "Oh honey, we didn't have ovens back then." The broth might have some brown sugar, molasses, or mustard added to it for sweetness, or vinegar for some sour flavor.

The use of ovens ushered in a new era for brisket, which could now be slow cooked for hours in a sauce to tenderize the tough connective tissue in this cut of meat. Old World flavors were replaced by an Americanized sauce of "foods" like ketchup, chile sauce, and onion soup mix.

I know, it sounds disgusting. But it's not. The brisket was well received by Ryan's family, and by then we were calling it a chrisket (a Christmas brisket), and defining a new tradition of our own.

As for whether brisket is the way to a man's heart, stayed tuned for the next recipe we made out of the family cookbook, which is for sure the way to MY man's heart.

Happy Valentines Day, all.

Grandma Joanie's Brisket

1 brisket

1 cup orange juice

1 cup ketchup

1 cup applesauce

1 packet onion soup mix

Stir oj, ketchup, applesauce, and onion soup mix together and pour over brisket. Add chopped potatoes, carrots, onions--any root vegetable will work. Cover with foil. Bake at 350 for at least 4 hours. Cool, remove remaining fat, and slice against the grain.

We made the brisket the night before and refrigerated until about two hours before serving, when we sliced it (against the grain--this is critical!) and heated it up in the oven at about 200. An hour would have been enough time to heat up our brisket; it was a tad dried out but still had plenty of flavor.

Mais oui! Blogging the Family Cookbook

2010-11-01T19:07:00.047-05:00

The summer before my senior year in high school, I had the privilege of living with a French family for three weeks. It was a wonderful experience, and I learned so much that I was dreaming en Francais by time we said our goodbyes. Their home was in Saint Andre des Eaux, a quaint rural town outside Saint Nazaire, a west coast city with a harbor that opened up to the Atlantic Ocean.

The town was straight from my French book, complete with une boulangerie, un boucherie, and other assorted speciality shops. Every night after dinner, I would take advantage of the late sunset and walk a mile along cow pasture-lined country roads with Indigo Girls "Closer to Fine" blasting through the headphones of my Sony walkman (RIP, Sony walkman!) to La Briere, a giant marsh with interconnecting narrow waterways that people would paddle around by boat to look at the native flora and fauna.

I hit it off with my French sister, and my French parents couldn't have been nicer. Dad often wanted to practice his English while Mom didn't speak a word of it. But I considered myself incredibly lucky because every night she would ask me what I wanted for dinner in contrast to some of my American friends, who regaled me with horror stories of the meals that they were forced to eat.

I ate chicken. Every. Single. Night. Of course now I kick myself for blowing such a unique opportunity to try authentic French cooking and learn more about local food. But I was still a very picky eater at the time and clearly did not try to break out of my comfort zone.

There was one recipe that she made that I couldn't get enough of--potage. This thick vegetable soup included pureed potatoes, carrots, onions, leeks, and some other flavorful ingredients that for the life of me, I was never able to replicate. Although I left France with her handwritten recipe tucked in my bag, and my (real) mom and I tried to make it many times, potage never, ever tasted the same again. As the years passed, the ink on that paper literally faded away, and no record exists any more of that recipe.

My mom reminded me of potage the other night when I asked her why she included "Mom's Potato, Fennel, and Leek Soup" in the family recipe book that my sister compiled as a gift for my wedding. Mom had a string of reasons ... that it was getting on to winter and she wanted to include a soup ... that she decided to submit a recipe for every course ... that she had just clipped this recipe from the newspaper ... and then as an afterthought, that it reminded her of potage.

Potage!

While I hadn't thought about potage in years and our disappointing failure in trying to recreate the recipe, I do love to make soup now. In fact our most used wedding gift so far is a 12-quart soup pot, which is great to use (but a giant PITA to clean).

So it works that I had unwittingly chosen this as the first recipe to make from the family cookbook when I decided to blog my way through it. While this recipe is no potage, it's easy to make and turns out a nice hearty soup on a cold winter's night.

Mom's Potato, Fennel and Leek Soup

2 leeks, light green and white parts only, thinly sliced

2 T unsalted butter

1 T olive oil

1 carrot, peeled and chopped

1/2 bulb fresh fennel, trimmed and chopped (about 3/4 cup)

3 baking potatoes, about 1 1/2 pounds, peeled and cut into chunks

1/2 t dried thyme

2 T chopped parsley

1 bay leaf

4 1/2 cups chicken broth

salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

In a soup kettle, cook the leeks slowly in the butter and oil for 5 minutes. Add the carrot and fennel; cook 5 more minutes. Stir in the potato chunks, thyme, parsley and bay leaf. Add the broth, bring to a boil, then cover and simmer for 25-30 minutes, or until the potatoes are completely tender. Discard the bay leaf. Crush about a third of the veggies with a potato masher (we skipped this step and opted for chunky veggies). Season with salt and pepper. Serve piping hot.

Serves 5

Special Gifts

2010-10-24T11:48:00.001-05:00

It's a funny thing, but Ryan and I struggled to put together a gift registry for our wedding. We felt torn between "we're older and we already have everything we need" to "well, we could replace a few things" to "let's go a little non-traditional and get some fun stuff."

We also had different ideas of what we wanted, and there was some discomfort with registering at one of those places, you know the ones, that have simplified the gift giving process to credit card information and a single click.

Where is the humanity in that?

We ended up for the most part with a list that reflected both of our tastes and desires -- a somewhat eclectic but meaningful set of items that ranged from essential and quirky kitchenwares to our favorite Illinois wine to a respected charity to the most random thing Ryan has ever found online (and that's saying a lot) -- but we still didn't quite provide enough items for our guests to buy for us. We also listed some gifts on a site that is not one-click-and-you're-done, but may require a little more legwork depending on what it is.

This led to some phone calls, "There isn't much left on your registry, what should I tell so-and-so to get you" and "Maybe you should put more on there."

Cue even more angst and guilt about planning this wedding.

The push-pull of planning a wedding that doesn't entirely conform to the traditional American wedding (or the Wedding Industrial Complex (WIC) as one of the few sane wedding bloggers out there calls it) was one of the biggest challenges for me.

There is, on one hand, a strong desire for the wedding to reflect us. After all, "it's all about you" and "it's your day" is drummed into every bride's head from the second she gets engaged if not earlier. But if you don't do things "the way it's supposed to be done", then you've got some 'splaining to do!

I understand the idea that wedding gifts are supposed to help a bride and groom create a home, that our invited guests love us and want to give us gifts that we want, and that we risk getting the dreaded "off list" items that we don't want. I also realize how ungrateful I probably sound right now. I mean, who complains about getting presents? Especially when people want to give them to you. But I wanted to feel authentic about our gifts, about every aspect of our wedding, and the act of registering ran somewhat counter to that.

But when the months of preparations finally culminated into the wedding weekend, I got the gifts I was looking for -- to have our family and friends with us to witness our marriage and, in many cases, to meet each other, making the world around us become that much more tightly woven and interconnected.

Our wedding was full of so many special gifts, some intangible, others creative, personal, and surprising. These were some of my favorites.

-- Serving chilled instead of hot apple cider before our outdoor ceremony because of the 80 degree weather. In early October, it was warm enough for our guests to be comfortable in the outdoor spaces at our venue, which positively gleamed with autumn colors.

-- The gentle breeze that lifted up the top of our huppah. This had stymied us the night before, when we were up until 1:30am figuring out how to attach the tulle covering to our handmade wooden kayak paddles without the material dipping low in the middle.

-- If we could get frequent flier miles for the distance that many friends and family flew to witness us exchange vows in person, we could have flown anywhere for free.

-- Watching the seating chart come to life. My sister and I joked about how I wanted to sit in the corner, as far away from the center of attention as possible. But I really wanted to watch the room during dinner, to see our guests get to know each other over a delicious meal inspired by the fall harvest (and damn, it was good!).

-- Seeing the line for pie snake around the entire room with hardly any leftovers at the end of the night.

-- Leaving with empty centerpieces, which had been filled with hundreds of apples picked by me, my mom, my sister, and my mother-in-law earlier in the week. We had provided bags for each guest to take some home.

-- Receiving a trove of recipes from family and friends, bound into a hardcover book with photos that sparked memories of hilarious moments, family outings, and long-gone-but-not-forgotten loved ones (thanks to my crafty and persistent sister). This book is the perfect way to illustrate two families joining together, now connected through Ryan and me.

Since this is a blog that focuses on food and home cooking, we are going to blog our way through that book. What better way to get to know each other's worlds than through recipes and the stories behind them.

That is priceless.

The Day After

2010-10-16T10:51:00.003-05:00

(Taken October 11, 2010 at Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie)

New Challenge

2010-09-25T09:57:00.003-05:00

Hello, friends.

My imminent wedding has derailed the 1-2 Challenge in a big way. The new challenge is to make it through the next two weeks with my sanity intact.

See you in a few weeks!

1-2 Challenge: Watermelon (sort of)

2010-09-04T11:45:00.001-05:00

I have a confession.

I bought this watermelon more than two weeks ago at the Andersonville Farmer's Market with every intention of turning it into last week's 1-2 Challenge.

It sat on my kitchen table as I diligently researched recipes. Nights passed until finally Ryan asked if we could just eat it already. I flinched with failure, but agreed.

He sliced it down the middle, revealing juicy red flesh that squirted and dripped all over as we devoured it. Eating watermelon was such a refreshing way to cap off a humid evening.

The next time I went to the grocery store, I bought two more watermelons, intending to use them in the challenge, which I had shamefully failed to meet after more than two weeks passed without a single blog post. That's why it's called a challenge, right?

But as I thought about it, I realized that I had found a way to eat watermelon -- in its simplest form. Too often, I struggle with what to do with fruits and vegetables when they often taste best just as they are. Especially now as farmer's markets overflow with bounteous produce.

A few nights ago, I finally used watermelon in a gazpacho recipe that I posted about last summer. The watermelon adds a creamy texture to the blend of tomatoes, red pepper, cucumber, and red onion. You can see the recipe here.

As I chopped vegetables, Ryan sliced the melon. He reserved a quarter of it for the food processor and ate the rest.

In my mind, that is a perfectly legitimate "recipe". We should enjoy the natural flavors and textures of the harvest -- at least while we can.

1-2 Challenge: Corn

2010-08-18T19:40:00.030-05:00

When I saw the giant barrel full of corn at the Northcenter Farmer's Market on Saturday, I knew this was my ingredient for this week's 1-2 Challenge - my weekly effort to make one item two ways.

I typically eat corn on the cob with just a swipe of butter. So sweet and easy. Just shuck, boil, eat, and floss.

I scooped up six ears, wondering what else I could make while staying true to my mantra: keep it simple, especially in the summer when fresh picked produce tastes so good.

At home more than dozen tomatoes dangled off the Topsy Turvy, ready for picking. Whatever recipe I would make had to include those. That's why this simple fresh corn salad recipe was simple and perfect.

I had all the ingredients on hand. Corn, boiled and cut off the cob, mixed with halved tomatoes, fresh basil, chopped red onion, and a blend of red wine vinegar, balsamic vinegar, and evoo.

For the second recipe, I wanted to put a twist on the traditional corn on the cob with butter. Lucky for me, another Chicagoan over at The Kitchen Sink Recipes blog had the same idea. I followed her directions for smoked paprika butter, a simple recipe that calls for paprika, minced garlic, and salt mixed into a stick of butter.

The scent of smoky garlicky butter filled my kitchen. But before I tried this new concoction, I took a moment to admire the colors. I love the rainbow of summer fruits and vegetables almost as much as I love the flavors.

The corn looked like gold.

Then the butter, a pale coral with flecks of red.

All in all, an easy way to spice up an old favorite, even though I still had to floss afterwards!

Fresh Corn Salad (adapted from Cora's recipe at The Tasty Kitchen)

2 ears of corn

12 grape tomatoes, halved

1/3 of a red onion, chopped

7 leaves of fresh basil

1 T red wine vinegar

1 T strawberry vinegar (all we had)

5 T evoo

salt and pepper to taste

Boil corn for 5-7 minutes, then soak in cold water. Cut corn off the cob and mix tomatoes, onion, basil. Mix vinegars and evoo separately, then add to mixture. Add salt and pepper to taste.

+ When I make this again, and I will make this again, I will cut the vinegars and olive oil in half. The salad only needed a light coating. +

Smoked Paprika Butter (adapted from The Kitchen Sink Recipes)

1/2 stick of unsalted butter, softened

1 t papricka

2 cloves garlic, minced

salt, to taste

Just mix! Then, I scooped the mixture back into the wax paper from the butter, rolled it up, and put back in the refrigerator.

1-2 Challenge: Golden Zucchini

2010-08-09T20:21:00.039-05:00

My friend Rachel, a Seattlite with the most gorgeous backyard garden, once joked that you can't drive around with your windows open during the summer or someone will throw a zucchini through it.

There's no doubt that zucchini gets a bad rap, both for its prolific nature and lack of flavor. But I have a soft spot for the squash.

When I was breaking out of the carrots-and-apples-only era of my childhood, zucchini was among the first veggies that I embraced--typically sauteed in olive oil and garlic with red peppers and a splash of balsamic vinegar over pasta. The blandness attracted me, and I have since come to appreciate zucchini's versatility whether on the grill, in a saute pan, or in the oven.

As an homage to this longtime staple of my diet and because I thought these yellow beauties popped at the farmer's market on Saturday, I selected golden zucchini for my first test in the 1-2 Challenge (which, you may recall, is a personal challenge that I created for myself to pick one item from a farmer's market each week and prepare it two ways).

The other reason is that I have been craving zucchini bread since Ryan bought a loaf of fresh banana bread during a recent long weekend trip. Since we had a slight break in the weather over the weekend, I ventured to bake in the oven, which has gone untouched during this hot and sticky summer.

Zucchini bread calls for a counter full of ingredients and makes a bit of a mess (although it was totally worth it - moist with a little crunch from the walnuts). So for my second recipe, I was looking for something more low-maintenance. I found this easy side dish from Good Housekeeping. Zucchini ribbons with mint works well as a side to pasta, chicken, or fish.

In all my years of making zucchini, I have never peeled lengthwise with a vegetable peeler. I have always either grated or sliced into thin discs or half moons. But I found this method showcases the color, and the mint brought out a nice, subtle flavor.

I feel like I rediscovered zucchini this week, but in the interest of bringing more vegetables back into my diet, I am keeping my windows closed.

Zucchini Bread (adapted from allrecipes.com)

3 eggs

1/4 cup vegetable oil

3/4 cup applesauce

+the original recipe called for 1 cup of oil, but I subbed most for applesauce+

2 cups white sugar

2 grated zucchinis

2 t vanilla extract

3 cups flour

3 t ground cinnamon

1 t baking soda

1/4 t baking powder

1 t salt

1/2 cup chopped almonds

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Grease two 8X4 inch loaf pans. In a large bowl, beat eggs, mix in oil and sugar, stir in zucchini and vanilla extract. Combine flour, cinnamon, baking soda, baking powder, salt and nuts, and stir into egg mixture. Divide batter into loaf pans and bake 60-70 minutes or until done

+my first loaf took 60 minutes; the second loaf, which had about 1/4 less batter, took only 53 minutes and it was perfect+

Zucchini Ribbons with Mint (adapted from Good Housekeeping)

2 medium zucchini

2 T olive oil

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1/2 t salt

2 T chopped fresh mint

Trim ends of zucchini and peel lengthwise into ribbons. In a skillet, heat olive oil and add garlic. Cook until golden and then discard from the pan. Add zucchini and salt and cook for about 2 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in mint.

+If I make this recipe again, I will either mince the garlic and cook with the zucchini or use garlic-infused olive oil. The flavor of the garlic didn't come through.+

Announcing the 1-2 Challenge

2010-08-08T12:38:00.017-05:00

Last week, I mentioned that I would tell you about a new blog project. I'm happy to report that it is now underway!

It's called the 1-2 Challenge, and here's why:

What is the 1-2 Challenge?

It's simple: 1 ingredient, 2 ways.

This is a personal challenge that I have created to get myself to the farmer's market on a regular basis and back in my kitchen making food with locally grown produce. I will feature one item from the farmer's market each week and make two recipes out of it.

That doesn't sound very hard. Why are you doing this?

After two years of subscribing to a CSA, I decided not to sign up for one this summer expecting to buy most of my produce at local farmer's markets. But without the bi-weekly ritual of picking up my box of produce and deciding what to make or risk food rotting before my eyes, my plan hasn't gone as well as hoped. My excuses are just that: the heat, wedding planning, some late nights at work, and a little laziness to boot. Like many of you out there probably experience too, life gets in the way of cooking sometimes.

Plus, there is only so much I can say about my Topsy Turvy tomato plant, which I have posted about half a dozen times this summer.

It's doing well. The end.

Are you only going to buy one thing at the farmer's market each week?

No way, and I might incorporate other farmer's market items in the recipes too. But for now, I am only going to commit to blogging about one ingredient a week.

If I find that I am more than up to the challenge, I might adjust the formula to 1-3, 2-2, or 2-3. Really, the possibilities are endless.

How will I know if you follow through?

Check my progress right here or follow me on Twitter @woodentableblog!

Are the white peaches pictured above your first ingredient?

No.

I bought these peaches at the farmer's market yesterday, and they are sweet and mild. I loved their fuzzy texture, and the small donut shape makes eating a cinch. I can actually bite into them without peach juice dribbling down my chin. I wanted to give a shout out with a photo, but I selected a different item to feature this week, and my kitchen is a lovely mess from cooking today!

So check back Wednesday to find out what it is and what I made.

Harvest

2010-08-03T22:47:00.005-05:00

I realize that I have obsessively posted about my tomato plant all summer long.

It has done better than I expected, but really, we've probably popped less than 10 of these in our mouths. And they've ripened just one or two at a time. Tonight, we finally had the harvest we've been waiting for (pictured here, before they went into the blender and became gazpacho).

In honor of our tomato bounty, I am going to lay this obsession to rest and start anew. Be sure to check back in a few days for an announcement about my next project!

Hello, Herbs!

2010-07-04T09:00:00.000-05:00

The tomatoes have certainly gotten a lot of attention on the blog lately, so I want to give a shout out to the other plants that are thriving out back.

When I used to receive herbs in my CSA boxes, dried or otherwise, I often put them in the pantry only to forget they were there. They were like the black sheep of each delivery, as I focused more on eating the veggies first and rarely planned meals that used the herbs in tandem.

All that changed when I decided to pick up some fresh herbs for the grand grow-food-on-the-back-deck experiment this summer. With visions of pesto dancing in my head, I purchased a basil plant.

Admittedly, I haven't made pesto yet. But I did make this: vegan tahini basil pasta salad. If you like simple pasta salads, you should make it too. Colorful and light, it's the perfect dish to bring to a picnic.

Sage came next. One of my favorite recipes to make is pasta with butternut squash and sage. Since this is more of a fall dish, I was interested to see what summer recipes I could pull off with it.

I found it a little trickier to find summer recipes with sage that I wanted to make, but I settled on this simple side dish, beans, tomatoes, and herbs, to go along with a sauteed chicken breast. Since I used canned instead of dried beans, it was quick and easy, and works any time of year, I think.

Now, with these herbs growing out back, needing my care, I no longer ignore them. I often incorporate these flavors into meal planning. Sometimes I even glance out the window as I think about how one or both might taste in this recipe or that.

What I find so interesting is how the grand grow-food-on-the-back-deck experiment has not only proven that I can grow food back there, but it has impacted what I decide to make. Flipping the "out of sight, out of mind" expression on its head makes me wonder what else I would eat more of if only it was growing on my back deck.

Great Expectations

2010-07-03T15:12:00.003-05:00

Not to sound like an ad for Topsy Turvy, but the growth of our tomato plant has exceeded my expectations. We actually harvested one a few nights ago. The skin was starting to split so I plucked it off. Ryan and I shared it, and it was delicious.

Some of the others are almost ripe with two tomato clusters growing as I type. We've noticed a lot of blossoms too, which means more fruit is on the way.

The yields are quite small, and maybe we won't get enough for more than a salad, but I love the fact that I can grow food on my little deck. It's not as hopeless as I thought.

Red

2010-06-23T21:58:00.000-05:00

3 1/2 Weeks

2010-06-10T07:59:00.002-05:00

Inspiration

2010-06-05T13:07:00.008-05:00

Food is a big inspiration for my photography, but probably the biggest of all is Karl. He likes to hang out in the living room, which gets southern exposure and the best light.

I often keep my camera on the coffee table for easy access when he looks especially cute.

For some reason, his left ear does not always make it into the photo.

Or his right one, in this case. Guess I will need to work on that.

Five Little 'Toes

2010-05-30T14:52:00.004-05:00

Okay, I admit it. The photos that I posted yesterday of our Topsy Turvy tomato plant--I took them about a week ago.

Four new tomatoes have sprouted since then.

Four!

This is getting exciting.

Down and Out

2010-05-29T09:25:00.032-05:00

My back deck has always been, shall we say, a little inhospitable to growing vegetables.

Anything that needs full sun will not find it there. Partial sun, yes. Shade, there's plenty. But sunbeams that cast a warm glow all day long, not happening.

Lately this has made me sad. Joining the CSA made me realize how good fresh-harvested veggies taste, and I have begun to wish that I had some green space to grow my own. Container gardening is popular in the city, but without much sunlight, I have always thought it would be a futile effort.

Well a few weeks ago, Ryan came home with Topsy Turvy (As Seen On TV!), a long hanging container that grows tomato plants upside down. Dubbed a new gardening trend by the New York Times, there are several purported benefits of growing tomatoes this way: less pests, fewer weeds, easier watering system, to name a few.

I admit, I was skeptical. First of all, he bought it at a 7-Eleven. Now I don't know a whole lot about gardening, but I know enough that 7-Eleven isn't typically the place to go to buy such supplies.

The thing looked pretty tacky, too, with it's shiny, plastic-like material, leafy pattern, and green plastic scalloped-edged lid with a hole in the middle for watering.

But after reading the Times article and taking my annual early-summer visit to the local plant and garden center--where I gamely select marigolds and the like for container boxes that hang over the side into enough sunlight to keep them perky for most of the summer--I decided to throw caution to the wind. I tucked in a sun gold tomato plant with my flowers and feeling uber impetuous, grabbed basil and sage plants too.

Aided by the sunnier space between the railing and roof of my deck and the nutrient rich worm compost that Ryan has managed throughout the winter, I think the tomatoes might have a fighting chance.

We put the plant through the hole at the bottom and used a circle of styrofoam with a slit cut to the center to secure it in place. Then we carefully scooped a few inches of potting soil around the plant, added a few inches of compost, and topped off with more soil.

I am supposed to water daily. Within a few weeks, I think I'll be able to tell whether I can add cherry tomatoes into my salads. Stay tuned.

Sleeper Hit

2010-04-29T19:21:00.020-05:00

Every so often, a recipe comes along that causes us to pause and say damn, that was so good and easy. Why haven't we made this before?

And then it effortlessly slides into the recipe rotation like it has been there all along.

Ryan recently discovered one such recipe, Spicy Orange Salad, Moroccan Style, that was featured in the New York Times Magazine a few weeks ago.

Seriously people. This is so easy to make, it's ridiculous. The flavors are so surprisingly different. Who knew oranges and olives went together so well?

The most time-consuming part is peeling off the pulp. But once that's done, just combine with a mixture of olive oil, vinegar, spices, olives, and it's ready to go. No oven needed, no refrigerator necessary (but fine, if you want to serve chilled).

Ryan has made it on two separate occasions and garnered at least three requests for the recipe. So in case you wanted to ask, here it is.

Spicy Orange Salad, Moroccan Style (from the New York Times)

3 large seedless oranges (clementines work well)

1/8 t cayenne

1 t paprika

1/2 t garlic

3 T olive oil

1 T red-wine or sherry vinegar

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1/3 cup chopped parsley

12 pitted black olives

Peel the oranges and the pulp. Cut each orange into 8 wedges. Cut each wedge into 1-inch pieces. Set aside. Mix cayenne, paprika, olive oil, garlic, and vinegar into a bowl. Add salt and pepper to taste and whisk. Add oranges, parsley, and olives. Toss. Serve cold or at room temperature.

Serves 4.

Adventures at the Chicago French Market

2010-04-11T09:19:00.027-05:00

On day 3 of my new job, I finally ventured into Chicago French Market - the new French-style indoor market located just steps from all of the Metra trains in Ogilvie Transportation Center.

Despite the florescent lighting and windowless, boxy space, it is nothing like a traditional food shopping experience.

Booths of fresh produce, ethnic delicacies, handmade pasta and breads, and a variety of artisan cheese, meat, and pastries stand ready for harried commuters to dash in and out moments later with enough ingredients to make whatever meal is envisioned for the evening.

Or so I thought.

I got there in plenty of time to wander around and look for items for this recipe - Feisty Green Beans from 101 Cookbooks. I was immediately drawn to this dish for its central use of green beans, one of my favorite veggies, and combination of spices.

I set out to find all of the ingredients that I needed to buy. Onions, garlic, green beans, and sour cream were easy. We had virtually everything else in the pantry except tofu, which was no where to be found.

I asked the cashier at the produce stand and she shook her head. I browsed the shelves of another small grocer. Nada. I did an entire loop around the market, and saw nothing that resembled tofu. I was starting to think that I would substitute chicken, when the guy behind the counter at Chicago Organics caught my eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, eager to please.

"I'm looking for tofu. You don't have any by chance," I said, with hope.

He paused in thought, shook his head, and then said the words I dreaded to hear.

"No. I don't think anyone sells tofu here."

But then, then...

He reconsidered.

"But you might try asking at the Asian sandwich shop over there," he said, nodding to Saigon Sisters across the aisle. "Just ask, they might have some to sell to you. You never know."

I had nothing to lose.

I approached.

"Do you happen to have any uncooked tofu," I asked the smiling woman. "I need it for a recipe and can't find any."

She disappeared in the storage room, emerging a few minutes later with a vacuum-sealed package of fried tofu. Not uncooked, but good enough for me.

"I'll sell it to you for $2.50," she said. "And do you want some bread?" she gestured to a bowl of mini-baguettes. "You can have it for free."

I paid, took a loaf, and went off in search of cheese.

I barely made my train.

Change Is Good

2010-03-31T23:03:00.017-05:00

Have you ever had the experience of just sailing along, living your life, going through your daily routines, when all of a sudden a bunch of changes hit you like the proverbial ton of bricks? That's a little what life has been like for me recently.

All of a sudden, I am planning a wedding to the man who makes me happier than a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of a warm brownie.

I am starting a new job that will give me back an hour of my life each day thanks to a better commute.

And after two summers and two winters of CSA deliveries, I have decided not to sign up again.

Shocking, I know. When I first started, I didn't know a turnip from a rutabega, a leaf of kale from a mustard green, or an acorn from a butternut squash. My CSA experience changed that. Now I not only know what they look like, but what they taste like and most importantly, what I like.

Joining a CSA forces you to cook and eat what is given to you. I credit this for making me more comfortable in the kitchen and expanding my palate. But after two cycles I feel that I have graduated, in a way.

This summer, I plan to shop more at farmer's markets. Plus my new job will give me greater flexibility to get ingredients each day for whatever I want to make for dinner that night. I've learned that I prefer buying food on an as-needed basis rather than going to the store once a week, loading up the shopping cart, and trying to use up all the produce before it spoils.

I have noticed an evolution in the blog anyway - away from posts about my kitchen foibles as I learn how to make something or my surprise at discovering a new fruit or vegetable and toward more confident prose about cooking and a desire to share stories about my encounters with food.

So that's the plan. Of course, change is a little scary. But necessary to grow, I think. Here I go.

Outside the Box

2010-03-29T21:19:00.020-05:00

I usually have a Passover seder with my family (with the exception of two years ago when we had a rather unusual seder in Mexico). But this year, due to a variety of reasons, we were on our own.

I can't say that we had an actual seder (although we briefly considered downloading this). We ate many of the traditional foods, however the meal didn't quite come together without a hitch.

A lot of the food, I must admit, came from a box, including matzos, macaroons, and matzo ball soup. While this isn't the worst thing in the world, we had some minor mishaps too. As the eggs hard boiled, several cracked in the roiling water causing poofy whiteness to burst out of the shell. No big deal. The chicken burned too, just a little.

But the one item that I feel like I truly made from scratch and turned out to be the best part of the meal, I thought, was charoset. This is a sweet mix of apples, honey, cinnamon, nuts, and wine. Despite how good it tastes, scooped on a piece of matzo, charoset has a somewhat darker meaning. It symbolizes the mortar that the Jews used while they were slaves in Egypt.

I followed my mom's recipe, only she had no measurements, just ingredients. Keep mixing them together until it tastes right, she said. So that's what I did.

Mom's Charoset Recipe

Chop apples and walnuts* in the food processor.

Add cinnamon, honey, sweet red wine**, and golden raisins to taste.

Mix.

*We used almonds

**We used white riesling

How to Get Over Jet Lag

2010-03-24T19:12:00.021-05:00

Our flight landed at Heathrow Airport at about 8 a.m. Anyone who has ever flown overnight from the U.S. to Europe knows how brutal that can be. Breakfast is served about an hour before landing, which is really the middle of the night. But outside, the sun is coming up. And so begins a seemingly endless day of avoiding sleep and staying up as late as possible.

The secret, as I learned, was to stay active and eat a lot.

We arrived at Ali and Dan's place about mid-morning. Ali already had the entire day planned for us. We'd walk about 40 minutes from their place in Islington to experience one of her favorite pastimes since moving to London almost two years earlier - the Borough Market.

By the time we arrived, it was packed with people who were inching their way from stall to stall, snacking on the wide array of foodstuffs, and trying to avoid the crush of people.

This did not deter us.

We grazed on a bulgur salad.

I discovered my latest addiction here - salty and smoked almonds.

We browsed through fresh produce (we'd go on to eat a lot of potato and leek soup later on in Wales).

We wondered what ostrich tasted like.

And gawked back at this guy.

We watched this guy scrape cheese to make the Swiss/French/German dish raclette (a toasted cheese sandwich)

Then we ate raclette.

And drank some of this.

The next morning, we were good as new.

Soup of the Day

2010-03-19T18:52:00.026-05:00

When I was little and hated all vegetables except for carrots and green beans, I still had to eat the occasional spoonful of peas. The stakes were high, but the thought of biting into those little balls of green mush filled me with dread. So I did what any child would do when dessert was on the line.

I swallowed them whole.

That's pretty much the last thing I remember about eating peas until adulthood, when I discovered the error of my ways. Now I freely eat snow peas, snap peas, even those once detested green peas. I actually chew them too.

In fact my love of peas grew even more during our recent trip to the UK. It was late afternoon, and we had just arrived in the coastal town of Fishguard in Wales after about five days in London with our friends Ali and Dan. We were strolling down a narrow sidewalk when we happened upon a little cafe. Feeling hungry from our long day's journey, we popped in for a bite.

The soup of the day was written on a chalkboard behind the counter. Pea and mint. That's all it said. Pea and mint. For some reason, that combination enticed me. The earthy, almost nutty, taste of the peas mixed with the fresh blast of mint. Two foods with intense flavors came together in the most subtle way. I was hooked.

Surprising to us, this delicious bowl of soup typified how we found the food in Wales. We had not expected much more than fish and chips, but every menu advertised the use of local and organic ingredients, often with vegetarian and vegan options. Sure I had my fill of chips, but we ate much better than I thought, which served us well as we walked for miles up and down the windswept Pembrokeshire Coast.

Pea and Mint Soup (adapted from Waitrose.com)

Knob of butter
1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion
4 cups water
2 cups split peas (next time, I'm going to try fresh or frozen)
Salt and freshly ground pepper
A bunch of mint, leaves only, roughly chopped
4 tbsp low-fat yogurt, to serve

Melt the butter with the oil in a large saucepan over a medium heat. Add the onion, season with salt and pepper, cover and sweat very gently for 15 minutes or until completely soft.

Add the stock and bring to a gentle simmer, then add the peas and simmer for 10 minutes until the peas are soft. (*Since we used dry split peas, we let them simmer for about 25 minutes until soft.) Remove from the heat, add the chopped mint, and purée. Push through a sieve if you want a very smooth finish. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Serve in small bowls, hot or chilled, garnished with a swirl of cream or yogurt, a sprig of mint and lots of black pepper. Serve with pumpernickel bread.

Ups and Downs

2010-01-27T22:25:00.013-06:00

This was the photo I planned to post weeks ago, shortly after Christmas when Ryan made stock from the turkey carcass.

My kitchen did not look this clean and orderly, I assure you.

In fact, I was going to show more of the meat tearing, bean soaking, and carrot peeling - more of the mess, really - because I had the rare luxury of photographing food during daylight and documented the entire process from soup to nuts. Or bones to soup, in this case.

But somewhere in between taking these pictures and writing a blog post, Ryan asked me to marry him, and my focus vanished. We celebrated with dinners in restaurants and a trip out of town, and suddenly I found myself on the outs with my kitchen.

And then, as we coasted on the outpouring of love and plans and happiness, it became painfully clear that I needed to see my grandfather, whose fragile health had just become more so.

The family gathered by his bedside, and we kissed him and held his hand, but nothing that we did could save him.

A few days before he passed, I wandered into the orange grove next to his house to contemplate. It was a familiar place to me, where I had spent many school vacations throughout my childhood.

The oranges dangled patiently off the branches, waiting to be picked and eaten, as they had for years and years. There, the oranges reminded me that life goes on and even during dark days, that life is still sweet.

The Meaning of Christmas

2009-12-25T12:46:00.008-06:00

Merry Christmas!

After sleeping late and getting a lovely visit from Santa (a new bike to replace my stolen one - thank you, Santa), we kicked off Christmas morning with a batch of wild huckleberry pancakes courtesy of Ali, who visited Chicago from Montana a few weeks ago.

This was a perfect Christmas breakfast for many reasons, the first one being that the pancake mix came in the most adorable package. And what is Christmas without pretty packages!

Another reason why this was the ideal choice to make today is that I knew they would taste so good, and they did - fluffy, sweet, and drizzled with syrup. And what is Christmas without delicious food!

The final reason why I decided to make these pancakes today is that Ali is a dear friend. And what is Christmas without friends and family!

That pretty much sums up the meaning of Christmas to me. I hope you and yours have a wonderful holiday surrounded by pretty packages, delicious food, and most importantly, friends and family.

Happy Thanksgiving

2009-11-29T18:46:00.001-06:00

What I've Learned

2009-11-09T20:40:00.062-06:00

Growing up I always made a big deal about my birthday, mostly because I was a year younger than most of my friends and always felt behind.

I saw my birthday as a day to catch up, and everyone knew it. Exactly three months prior, I would start to self promote so by the time the big day rolled around, anyone who forgot incurred my wrath. Then my friends turned a year older, and that longing to be the same age started all over again.

That all changed once I turned 30 and no longer felt so eager to catch up.

So that may explain why nine days ago, a very important birthday of sorts slipped by without me even realizing it: my two-year blogiversary! But really, it was two years ago that I subscribed to a CSA and changed my eating and cooking habits. (Technically I didn't receive my first box of produce until November 16, so I suppose I have some time yet.)

When I started this CSA experiment, I wasn't sure if I would really take the time to find recipes, cook, and manage to eat the stuff too. But it has become a new way of life for me.

I went from buying the same boring foods at the grocery store to getting unidentifiable veggies that I had to figure out how to make.

I went from coming home from work, ordering takeout, and planting myself on the couch in front of the tv all night to chopping onions and garlic, sauteing with spices and veggies, and going straight to bed after eating and cleaning up. (Except when Lost is on. Two more months!)

Along the way I have collected some favorite recipes: strawberry and feta salad; chicken tajine; rhubarb crisp bars; pasta with butternut squash and sage, and so many others that I was just plain lazy to blog about.

I have learned important lessons about cooking: always make at least one test batch when baking pumpkin pie for a holiday dinner; always put a lid on the pan when popping popcorn on the stovetop; and food left out too long or stored incorrectly will rot (and when this happens, I will feel sad).

I also have made many discoveries about food and my own tastes and habits: I don't like a vegetables that rhyme with arse-snips; potatoes come in different colors; and grating beets is tiring, turns my hands magenta, and inspires bad, punny dialogue between me and Ryan (Me: I'm beat. Ryan: You're doing great, Hon.) I never wrote a blog post about this, so you'll have to take my word for it.

I now know what sunchokes, rutabega, celeriac, salsify, and rhubarb look like.

I think some foods taste best when eaten raw: raspberries, grape tomatoes, carrots, and strawberries.

I would be nothing without onions and garlic.

But most of all I have gained tremendous appreciation for the farmers, who deliver fresh and delicious produce week after week. I have learned that no matter how hard they work, sometimes the weather has other plans. Like last summer too much rain destroyed crops, and my CSA decided to delay deliveries for a few weeks to let the farmers catch up.

I know the feeling of wanting to catch up. But as long as they're growing food, I'm eating it, I hope, for many years to come.

Local Flavors

2009-11-02T20:45:00.003-06:00

Happy Halloween! While people of all ages dressed up, went trick-or-treating, and ate candy, I dressed up in many layers, went canoeing and bird watching, and ate fried pickles. But I'll get to that part in a little bit.

This is the last trip of the season for Ryan's canoe and kayak rental business, and it's one of my favorites. The put in is in English Lake, Indiana, on the Kankakee, about 1.5 hours drive from Chicago. It was cold and windy, but the sun stayed out most of the time.

About 8 miles later, we took out at Dunn's Bridge and hightailed it before sunset to the Jasper-Pulaski Fish & Wildlife Area, where thousands of sandhill cranes gather for a few months in late summer and fall on their way south.

Every day around this time of year, these social birds fly into a massive swampy field at dawn and dusk, where they hang out, gets some drinks (of water), and go dancing - they perform a courtship ritual that involves bowing, jumping, calling, and flinging grass - as deer graze on the outskirts of the wetlands. For the rest of the day and night, the cranes leave the field to scavenge for such local delicacies as corn and insects.

The sights and sounds are awesome. As the cranes fly in they drop their skinny legs like airplanes lowering their wheels while the air vibrates with trilling calls. Ryan recently heard that The Wizard of Oz author L. Frank Baum, who grew up in the area, modeled the call of the flying monkeys after the cranes. Even if it's not true, that's a good depiction of what the birds sound like.

By the time the sun dips behind the trees and the sky clears of cranes, we are ready to experience our own local delicacy - fried pickles from the Kniman Tap! Except for pizza, almost every item on the menu is fried, from jalapenos to perch to my favorite, curly fries.

Since I've gone on this trip a few times, I have learned a thing or two about eating fried pickles, so allow me to dispense some of my wisdom...

...Exercise extreme caution when biting into a fried pickle, because it's easy to inadvertently pull the pickle out of its fried outer layer with your teeth, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. So make sure to bite all the way through so you can experience the satisfying flavor combination that is fried and pickle.

...It is easy to show up ravenous after a day on the river and crane watching and consume numerous fried pickles in one sitting. I had three myself, in addition to some fried cauliflower, a fried mushroom, and a fried mozzarella stick before my hamburger and curly fries showed up. This isn't necessarily a bad thing at the time, but it can make for an uncomfortable drive home if you overdo it (which I did).

If fried everything isn't the sort of local flavor that you like, there are other options.

In fact Ryan came home after yesterday's trip with a dozen eggs, a bag of onions and potatoes, a jar of honey, and some pumpkins from a local farm. He saw a sign that advertised eggs and pulled over. It was easy as that to get a taste of the local flavors.

Labor of Love

2009-10-20T20:56:00.000-05:00

I find that cutting up a butternut squash is a labor of love.

First it takes a huge knife and some serious upper arm strength to cut one in half, much patience with a vegetable peeler, especially around the bulb, and a final burst of wherewithal to scrape out the seeds. But after I have skinned and chopped up the squash into little pieces (that sounds so gory), I feel like I am home free, even though I am just getting started.

After a moment to appreciate the vibrant color, it is time to roast. This takes 1 1/2 hours, if you follow the recipe that I did, and another 20 minutes on the stove top.

Have you figured out what we're making yet?

It looks so harmless, doesn't it?

Roasted Butternut Squash Soup (adapted from seriouseats.com)

2-3 tablespoons olive oil

1 butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1-inch pieces

1 onion, sliced or chopped

1 head of garlic, cloves peeled and separated

3 1/2 cups of chicken broth

salt

pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Toss squash with olive oil, onions, garlic, salt, and 1 cup of broth. Bake for 1 1/2 hours, checking occasionally to turn mixture. Mix in a large pot with 2 1/2 cups of broth on low-medium heat for 20 minutes. I used an immersion blender to mix and added salt and pepper to taste.

Sick

2009-10-12T21:41:00.008-05:00

Except for root beer floats and ginger ale on airplanes, I don't drink much soda.

But this past weekend I came down with the flu, and now I have a new occasion to drink carbonated beverages - when I get really, really sick.

I started coughing on Friday and by Saturday, I had a splitting headache and the need to sleep. I'll spare you the details, but one of the more tragic symptoms that I experienced was a loss of appetite.

My taste buds went numb (although this might have been a good thing considering how painful it would have felt to swallow food down my raw throat), and I barely craved my go-to food when I am sick - egg drop soup from the neighborhood Chinese restaurant.

When Ryan asked if he could get me anything, I surprised myself by asking for ginger ale. Something about it sounded soothing, and it delivered.

The cans felt cool on my feverish cheeks, and the sweet drink gave me the little burst of energy that I needed to get out of bed and lay on the couch for three days straight.

Ginger ale is not just for airplanes anymore!

Same Blog, New Look

2009-10-03T13:16:00.013-05:00

I work as an editor for a living, so it is in my nature to see things on this blog that I want to change. In fact, I have compulsively tinkered with the look of this blog several times since I started it two years ago. This time, I thought I'd point out some of the new features before I change it again.

- Banner with new photo. I'd like to change the banner seasonally to reflect the different produce that I get, and it's pear season now. These are dessert pears, "luscious and rare" according to Simply Wisconsin, my CSA. I would add "small and sweet." The other thing that I love about these pears is the imperfect look of their skin, because this is often what real food looks like when it comes out of the ground or picked off a tree. Grocery stores often feature the best looking produce but its not necessarily the best tasting. I intentionally positioned the pears on the right side of the screen so they will not compete with the photos that I put in blog posts. Finally this photo also captures a glimpse of my blog's namesake, the wooden table in my kitchen.

- New Wooden Table font. I love the cursive. Who writes in cursive any more? Let's bring cursive back. Who's with me?

- Tag cloud. This is a different way of featuring the tags. Instead of a long list, they appear more condensed and sized according to how often I use each label. I also edited the list to include only the items that came in one of my CSA boxes. You can find the tag cloud under the heading In the CSA Box in the right column under Blog Archive.

- Flickr feed. I fnally broke down and bought a new and better camera, so I really want to improve the photography on the blog. Right now, most of the photos on the feed already appear in the blog but I plan to add Flickr-exclusive images soon. The Flickr feed is under Inside the CSA Box in the right column.

Well, that's it. Take a look around. It might look different soon enough.

Smokin' Hot

2009-10-02T21:56:00.013-05:00

Roasting has become a favorite way to cook vegetables like broccoli, potatoes, and cauliflower. Just toss with olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic, bake on high heat and the veggies come out crisp with a smoky garlicky flavor. (Last week I squeezed lemon over the broccoli after it came out of the oven and grated Parmesan cheese at this suggestion - so good!)

That's why I was excited to find this recipe for roasted tomato and red bell pepper soup today. It's gotten much more fall-like in Chicago. Granted we've had a cooler summer than usual but suddenly the temps are more 40s and 50s than 60s and 70s. All I want to do is turn on the oven and eat hot food.

Fresh off Wednesday's colorful box of CSA produce, I wanted to use up the tomatoes and red bell peppers as soon as possible because of dinner plans tonight and tomorrow night. This easy recipe calls for roasting (yay!) those two ingredients plus several cloves of garlic and sliced onions.

Aside from my smoke detector going off mid-roast and having to haul out the ladder to unplug the battery (bad, I know, but I couldn't make it stop and worried that my neighbors would call the fire department) and having to open windows to let out some of the smokiness (also bad, now that the heat is on), the veggies charred beautifully.

They might have charred a little too much, actually, because when I pureed all of this in the blender, there were bits of what looked like huge black pepper flakes everywhere. If I was more concerned about the appearance of the soup, I might have strained those out. But to me, it didn't affect the flavor, which had a nice balance between the peppers and tomatoes.

That reminds me, I better go plug that battery back in.

Roasted Tomato and Red Bell Pepper Soup (adapted from Bon Appetit)

2 T olive oil

3 tomatoes, sliced in half lengthwise

2 red bell peppers, deseeded and sliced in wide strips

1 onion, sliced in thin wedges

5 cloves of garlic, peeled

salt

pepper

1/2 t dried thyme

2 cups water

1/4 c crumbled goat cheese

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Arrange tomatoes, peppers, onion, and garlic on baking sheet (even though this creates an extra dish to wash, I like to toss all the veggies with olive oil, salt, and pepper in a bowl before placing on the baking sheet, or you can sprinkle it on after they are arranged). Roast for 40 minutes. Afterwards, place roasted veggies in the blender with thyme and water and puree to your consistency of choice. This soup can be chilled for a few hours and served cold or hot with crumbled goat cheese and fresh sprigs of thyme.

Sweet

2009-09-20T08:33:00.052-05:00

Friday night was the start of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. I celebrated by cooking dinner for my sister Angie and her family. I think it was Wednesday that I extended the invitation, thinking that I would throw something together from that night's CSA delivery and sort of forgetting that I had plans on Thursday night.

After I picked up the CSA produce, I stopped by the Andersonville Farmer's Market. I figured that at least one farm would have apples for sale, and if I was lucky, some bottles of honey (yes, we finally finished those 3 bottles of honey in our pantry).

I arrived around 7pm, an hour before closing time. It was a good thing that I didn't show up 10 minutes later because some of the vendors were already packing up. Luckily I saw baskets of apples on one of the tables manned by a woman who seemed in no hurry, so I rushed over and learned that the market now closes at 7pm instead of 8pm because of the darkness.

That's right, the darkness.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Chicago winters, the darkness starts creeping in around late September until suddenly, you wake up and it is dark. You go to work, and it is dark. You come home from work, and it is dark. The darkness cannibalizes the day, like a ravenous beast. The snow, cold, and wind, I can handle. It's the darkness is the hardest part about surviving a Chicago winter.

But some time around March or April, mercifully, the light returns. With it comes a more even ratio of day to night. The darkness recedes not in defeat, but in hibernation for the next winter. But I digress.

Back to the farmer's market...I picked up some honey crisp apples and honey and decided to do menu research on Thursday. By the time Friday rolled around, I had a few different ideas but nothing was set.

There was this chicken with lemon and pepper recipe that seemed easy and safe. Then there was the dish that I wanted to make but was a little afraid because I had never made it before. As I learned early on in my blogging experience, it is very important to test a recipe.

But this dish that I wanted to make was so tempting. Somehow Moroccan Chicken with Tomatoes and Honey seemed more appropriate for Rosh Hashanah, which is all about wishing each other a sweet new year.

I also learned that my nephew had an aversion to lemons. So that was that. I decided to go for it. Angie would bring noodle kugel. Someday I will make it and post this recipe, which is rich and sweet beyond belief and quickly becomes a pile of crumbs that get picked up by sticky fingers. I would also make one of my favorite fall salads - greens with sliced pear, toasted walnuts, and dried cranberries mixed with balsamic vinaigrette. We'd finish with a dessert of sliced apples dipped in honey. Simple and sweet.

I already had tomatoes, onions, and lettuce from my CSA, the apples and honey from the farmer's market, and all the spices in my pantry except ginger, which we had run out of a few weeks earlier.

I 1 1/2'd the recipe to accommodate the 6 of us, and let me say that my gamble paid off. The recipe calls for the chicken to be sauteed and then slow cooked in a mixture of onions, turmeric, ginger, cinnamon, and honey for about 50 minutes, which infused the meat and the juice with so much flavor that Angie declared it the best chicken she had ever tasted! (I didn't serve over couscous like the original recipe called for because I thought the kugel would suffice.) The nephews chowed down too. They ate at least half of their pieces of chicken, which is always the highest compliment.

It was a sweet new year indeed.

Moroccan Chicken with Tomatoes and Honey (adapted from Jessica Denise Steinmetz, bellaonline.com)

1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
4 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 1/2 large onion, finely chopped
6 medium skinless chicken breasts
4 ripe plum tomatoes, chopped
1 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 1/2 tsp. ground ginger
6 Tbsp. honey
Salt to taste

Heat oil in large Dutch oven and deep pan over medium-high heat. Saute onion until golden, about 6 minutes. Remove with slotted spoon and transfer to plate. Add chicken and saute, turning frequently until browned on all sides, about 8 minutes (depending on the size of the boob!). Since I was crunched for time, I sauteed 3 pieces of chicken in a Dutch oven and a saute pan at the same time. Remove chicken from pan.

Add 1/2 cup water to Dutch oven, scraping bottom with a wooden spoon to loosen all browned bits. Add tomatoes and cook for about 8 minutes, until soft. Add turmeric, cinnamon, ginger, honey, and salt. Return chicken and onion to pot. Cover and simmer for 50 minutes, until chicken is tender.

Makes 6 servings.

Mess

2009-09-05T10:43:00.017-05:00

My kitchen is a mess. Dishes, pots, and the food processor are coated with an oil slick of mushed up basil, garlic, pine nuts, and parmesan cheese.

It's all the basil's fault. I got a bag of the leafy green herb in my CSA this week and knew I had to make pesto.

I have never made pesto before but was first introduced to how delicious it could be in a pizza that I ate in Riomaggiore, the smallest of the five villages in Cinque Terre in Italy's Liguria region.

That was over 10 years ago and it took me until now to make it. Actually we've been getting bags of different herbs in almost each delivery and most of them have gone to the composting worms or in the trash after not using them in time.

So I made fresh basil pesto over pasta and served with a CSA salad of lettuce, cucumbers, and pine nuts (not from the CSA) tossed with a homemade dressing of olive oil, red wine vinegar, salt, pepper, and a clove of minced garlic.

I can't say that what I made tasted as good as it did in Italy, but it came close.

Basil, I forgive you.

Fresh Basil Pesto (adapted from Simply Recipes, another useful and wonderfully written food blog that I follow)

2 cups basil

1/2 cup grated parmesan or romano cheese

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/3 cup pine nuts or walnuts

3 cloves garlic (I love garlic and added 4 cloves, and the garlic flavor really popped)

salt and pepper to taste

Put basil and pine nuts in a food processor and pulse a few times (note: I pulsed quite a bit because it took awhile for the basil to start mixing up). Add garlic and pulse some more. Drizzle olive oil and pulse, stopping frequently to scrape mixture off the sides. Toss in the cheese and pulse a few more times until blended. I added a tiny bit of salt but didn't think it needed much salt and pepper at all. Serve over pasta.

Simplicity

2009-08-20T21:33:00.021-05:00

Food blogging has received a lot of attention lately thanks to the movie Julie & Julia.

While I liked the film and even read some of the book (honestly, I couldn't get through it), there is another food blogger who has had me continually checking back for updates.

I started reading Orangette a few months ago, although she is a longtime blogger who has won awards and accolades. She recently published a memoir called The Homemade Life, which includes meaningful recipes that help tell her personal story of family, love, and food.

Maybe a little over a week ago, she opened a pizza restaurant in Seattle with her husband. It happened to be right around the time that the fennel in my refrigerator was starting to develop brown spots on the outer layers of the bulb.

Fennel was a mystery to me. I don't remember getting any last summer in my CSA and if I did, it probably went bad because I had no idea what to do with it. My limited experience with fennel had come in the form of seeds in a little spice jar in the pantry.

In honor of Orangette's big night, I made her recipe for fennel salad with Asian pear and parmesan. In the book, she prefaces the recipe by stating how much she and her husband love to eat salad and describes how the idea for a fennel salad came from one of his ex-girlfriends but originated with Julia Child.

It always seems to go back to Julia Child.

But what I loved about the recipe was its simplicity. That's part of what draws me back to Orangette's blog. Simple recipes paired with revealing updates about her life.

Because let's be honest, and I think Julie Powell would agree. The secret ingredient to a good food blog is not always in good writing and photography or in featuring delicious recipes, but in how much of a peek the writer offers into her life.

Fennel Salad with Asian Pear and Parmesan (adapted from Molly Wizenberg's book The Homemade Life)

1 medium fennel bulb

1 Asian pear

olive oil

lemon (I used a lime since that's what I had)

salt

wedge of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (I used grated parmesan from the fridge)

black pepper

Cut off the stalk and trim the fennel bulb; slice thinly (1/8 to 1/4 inch thick). Slice the pear in thin slices similar to the fennel. Spread the fennel slices on a plate. Drizzle with olive oil. Place slices of pear on top of the fennel. Drizzle with lemon juice (in my case, lime) and salt. Shave ribbons of cheese on top (I sprinkled grated parm). Then repeat all of the layers.

A Cool Breeze

2009-08-01T09:58:00.013-05:00

Usually by this point in the summer, I ache for the cool days of fall. I've had enough heat and stickiness to last me through another Chicago winter.

Not this summer. In July we had an average of 69.7 degrees here in Chicago, and I can't say that I have minded not having to haul out the air conditioner.

But earlier this week temps crept up past normal, and my kitchen felt thick with humidity. I had cucumbers and onions to use and decided that this was the perfect time to make gazpacho, especially since I had gotten a recipe from a wonderful home cook who, fortunately for me, doesn't believe in keeping her recipes a secret.

With her blessing I am posting this recipe. It's so simple to make and includes watermelon, an unexpected ingredient that adds a hint of sweetness and feels like a cool breeze sliding down my throat.

Gazpacho (by Amy Currie, author of Memoirs of a Home Cook)

2 cups tomato juice

2 tomatoes, cored and chopped

1 seedless cucumber, peeled and chopped

1 red pepper, cored and chopped

1 medium red onion, chopped

1 cup seedless watermelon, cubed

1/4 cup red wine vinegar

2 tablespoons olive oil

salt and pepper

Pulse tomato juice, tomatoes, cucumber, red pepper, red onion, and watermelon in a food processor. Add vinegar and oil. Season to taste w/salt and pepper. Serves 6-8.

Carbo Loading

2009-07-18T17:54:00.024-05:00

Almost 10 years ago I ran the New York City Marathon. It started out as the most exhilarating experience. As I pounded through the boroughs, thousands cheered when I ran by. That's because I kept pace with four 50-something Brits dressed like the Teletubbies, and yes they carried purses.

Thankfully, the screams weren't all for Tinky Winky. I had a lot of supportive family and friends who followed me along the route and kept my spirits up. I had trained for five months and felt great. But in the Bronx, my legs began to feel numb, my mind clouded over, and my stride went from confident to baby steps. My body was so fatigued, I couldn't imagine running eight more miles.

I had hit the wall. Big time.

Hitting the wall is the term for what happens when the body loses too much glycogen. It's a common occurance during a marathon and can be alleviated by consuming more carbohydrates before and during the run.

To this day, I don't know how I made it through the final hills of Central Park to the finish line. With a quarter mile to go, I even got my legs back and sprinted to the end, where my family was like, "We were worried, the Teletubbies finished 40 minutes ago."

But when I look back on the experience now, I don't think about how a bunch of men twice my age, wearing pastel-colored fur from head to toe, smoked me. No I don't think about that at all. Really, I don't.

What I realize is that I was not eating nearly enough leading up to and during the race. I trained during a hot and sticky summer while living in an apartment with no a/c. While I stuck to the training schedule - and I credit this for the mental fortitude to push through my pain - it kind of killed my appetite. I lost a lot of weight. I can't say that I minded being able to fit into my skinny jeans, but in hindsight this was a big red flag that I was burning way more calories than I was consuming.

Plus I was eating a lot of processed crap, like Rice-a-Roni (a food staple in my 20s), and I made little effort to eat the right mix of protein and carbs, which is essential if you want to perform well in a marathon or other endurance activity. It's not that I didn't know what to eat, it was more that I thought my body could handle it. I was wrong.

I am proud of finishing the marathon, but I don't plan to run another one. I don't think my body is cut out to run 26.2 miles. Nothing should be that painful. Maybe it would have been different if I had eaten better. I think so, but I'll never know. In the meantime, I have run some halfs, 10-milers, and my favorite distance - the 10K, which is 6.2 miles.

In fact I have a 10K coming up in about nine hours. That's what inspired me to make this dish tonight. I clipped it from the August 2009 issue of Real Simple magazine, with a few substitutions.

Linguine with Squash and Chickpeas (the magazine calls for zucchini, I used yellow squash)

3/4 bag of linguine

2T olive oil

2 squash (the mag calls for 3 small zucchini), cut into thin half moons

Salt

1 15-ounce can of chickpeas, rinsed

2 cloves garlic, sliced
1/2 t crushed red pepper

grated asiago cheese (the mag calls for parmesan)

Cook the pasta; reserve 1/2 cup of the pasta water; drain; return pasta to pot. While you're cooking the pasta, heat the olive oil in a skllet, add the squash and salt. Cook until tender, about 4-5 minutes. Add the chickpeas, garlic, and red pepper, and cook for 2-3 mintes. Toss the pasta with the reserved water and mix with the vegetables. Add grated cheese.

Traveling

2009-07-05T18:18:00.007-05:00

I brought two zucchinis and a bag of sugar snap peas on my trip out west. The first zucchini made it into the veggie fajitas on the first night of a camping trip in the Olympic mountains. I snacked on a few before they went into the pot, and they tasted so good! But then again, food always tastes good after a long hike. The second zucchini went into the mac and cheese on night #2. Yum!

After the camping trip, I stayed at Rachel's in Seattle. She has a gorgeous backyard with the most amazing garden. It felt like my own private CSA. I snacked on plump, juicy raspberries and crunchy sugar snap peas. It helped make up for the fact that I had to abandon some of my CSA veggies at home before the trip.

On the last leg of my journey, I visted Emily, Ben, and Oceanne in Sausalito. We had a delicious dinner at the Michelin-rated Japanese restaurant Sushi Ran. But I must give a shout out to Ben for his inventive "French pizza." On homemade dough, he topped the spinach, corn, and onions - with three eggs.

Delicieux!

Late Start

2009-07-05T17:42:00.003-05:00

My first summer CSA delivery came and went a week and a half ago. Lots of greens - lettuce, spinach, green garlic, zucchini, sugar snap peas, mint, as well as mushrooms, rhubarb, and strawberries.

I was so happy to see all of those fresh vegetables after such a long, cold winter - finally! But it seemed like my CSA got a late start this year. Since I get a half share, I only pick up every other week. This year I am in the second group, which means I started the second week instead of the first, so I think that's why it felt later to me.

Unfortunately, my delivery came two days before a weeklong vacation to the west coast to visit some friends. I didn't have much time to eat all the goods, so the first night I made a 3-course meal: my favorite strawberry and feta salad, sauteed chicken with spinach and green garlic, and a rhubarb crisp with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

I always think of the early CSA deliveries as very green and leafy, but that night belonged to the ruby red stalks of rhubarb. I made the recipe straight from the Homegrown Wisconsin CSA newsletter. It truly satisfied. The oatmeal in the crust gave it an extra crunch, although I will go easy on the sugar next time.

Rhubarb Crisp Bars (from Homegrown Wisconsin)

Top and bottom crust
1 Cup flour
3/4 Cup oatmeal (uncooked)
1 Cup brown sugar (packed)
1/2 cup butter (melted)

Filling
3/4 cup sugar
1 1/2 Tablespoons flour
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 Tablespoon butter (softened)
1 egg (beaten)
2 cups rhubarb (cut into 1/2 inch pieces)

Directions
Mix flour, oatmeal, brown sugar, and butter until crumbly. Press 1/2 into greased 9” square pan. Add rhubarb. Beat egg. Blend sugar, flour nutmeg and butter. Add beaten egg, beat until smooth. Pour over rhubarb. Top with other half of crumb mixture. Press mixture down lightly. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes. Great with vanilla ice cream!

The Power of Strawberries

2009-06-13T10:48:00.006-05:00

This morning I planned to go to opening day of the Northcenter Farmers Market. It was pouring rain, but I still stopped by. Aside from a few nice days, we haven't had much of a summer yet in Chicago. It's getting a little depressing, but I want to take advantage of fresh strawberries while they are still in season.

Just looking at them cheers me up.

My Name is Lindsay, and I am a Recipe Follower

2009-06-08T12:39:00.037-05:00

Yesterday I took part in two of my most favorite Chicago summer pastimes.

I had lawn-seat tickets to see the some of the best singer-songwriters around on one stage - Emmylou Harris, Shawn Colvin, Patti Griffin, and Buddy Miller. They performed at Ravinia, the outdoor pavilion concert venue.

Lawn seats at Ravinia mean only one thing. Picnic! I found this black bean and tomato quinoa recipe on The Kitchn to supplement store-bought cheese, crackers, and strawberries.

At around 10 a.m. I got to work in the kitchen, which felt strange because I typically cook at night. But as the quinoa's nutty smell mingled with the scent of my morning coffee, I mixed spices and lime juice with black beans, yellow corn, and grape tomatoes, and tossed with the quinoa. But no matter how much extra salt and pepper I threw in there, the whole thing tasted kind of bland.

But I didn't have time to tweak. I had to get going so I wouldn't miss a scheduled talk at the other event that's always high on my Chicago summer to-do list - the Printers Row Lit Fest.

To understand the Printers Row Lit Fest, you need to picture several city blocks filled with white tents. Then imagine those white tents filled with tables and shelves. Then think of those tables and shelves piled high with books. Then revel in the fact that those books are heavily discounted. It's a beautiful site.

Many authors also give talks about their books. I had the privilege of listening to chef-turned-New-York-Times-food-columnist-and-book-author Molly O'Neill discuss her new anthology of American food writing.

I have to be honest that since my interest in cooking only dates back about a year and a half, I was not familiar with her work. But in addition to cooking more, I am interested in how food writers write about cooking. How do you describe the tastes and smells? How do you convey the feeling of creating and sharing a meal? How do you explain how those little (or major, in my case) kitchen disasters and hard-fought victories that define the cooking experience?

I made it to the tent just in time to hear the Hearty Boys introduce her and moderator, Leah Eskin (a Chicago Tribune food columnist whose work I am familiar with and a fan of). So I'm sitting there, feeling quite literary and ready to absorb her culinary wisdom, when Molly says something kind of obvious but provocative.

She says (and I paraphrase), "I've learned that there are two types of people - recipe followers and cooks. A recipe follower takes a recipe and makes it exactly as it is written. A cook can look at the recipe and remember it, and may try ways to change it."

As I ponder this, I suddenly realize why the quinoa tastes so bland. I forgot to add green onions! My mind tingles with a mix of dread and relief. How could I forget when they were on the recipe? I can add them later, but would the flavor have been stronger if I had mixed them in earlier? This internal dialogue rages inside my head. It's undeniable. I am a recipe follower.

I think there is a stigma associated with this, that recipe followers aren't creative or adventurous enough to experiment with ingredients and make a dish our own. But when I think about it, I am reminded of why I was intimidated to start cooking in the first place - a great fear of messing up. Compounding that fear were articles, magazines, cookbooks, blogs, and all those picture-perfect dishes that made cooking feel inaccessible and not worth the effort.

Just two weeks before the summer CSA deliveries start up again, it's worth revisiting why I decided to start. Essentially I was bored with my narrow range of food choices and thought that if I paid upfront, I would have to find ways to eat it. I also loved the environmental aspect of eating food that's grown nearby. What I didn't realize was how much better the food would taste and how many new foods and flavors I have discovered in the process.

Now if someone (usually Ryan, who qualifies as more of a cook) suggests a substitution or variation on the recipe, I'll still flinch. But Molly says that being a recipe follower is not necessarily a bad thing, especially if it's how people get comfortable in the kitchen. Relief! I mean who cares as long as I'm making meals from real food and not boxes?

Molly even put it out there in her talk. "What's the worst that could happen? You could blow dinner. So what? Then you order pizza."

I went home, liberated, and added those green onions. Just like the recipe said.

He Likes It! He Really Likes It!

2009-04-25T10:42:00.002-05:00

Okay, I know I have to stop posting pictures of the cat, but I wanted to show how well our window plants are coming along. The cat grass shot up immediately. The herbs are sprouting but a little slower, and the lettuce is about ready to harvest.

Southern Exposure

2009-04-18T10:41:00.003-05:00

Spring is so close, I can practically taste it. Literally.

We planted some window boxes with a mesclun mix of lettuce, and chives, basil, and sage from seeds. We also picked up a scallion plant, which the cat has already decimated, and some cat grass seeds, which will hopefully distract Karl from the scallion plant.

The CSA starts up again in mid-June, which seems like an interminably long time away. I wish I could grow tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers, but my back deck doesn't get enough sunlight, and the front lawn is not an option for me.

So last weekend we went to Gethsemane, where the gardening experts told us that lettuce and herbs could grow in a window that gets a lot of light. They also told us to water them often because terra cotta dries out quickly.

I can't wait for that first salad and pasta with pesto.

Dry Spell

2009-03-28T17:55:00.018-05:00

March falls smack dab in between the winter and summer CSAs. We mashed our last potato, chopped our last onion, and peeled our last head of garlic from the January box weeks ago, entering the long local food dry spell that is February through May.

Unfortunately this has also become a long stretch where I'm not cooking very much. While Chicago still offers local food in the long winter months in the form of the Green City Market one Saturday morning a month, I must admit that I like nothing better than to sleep in on Saturdays, make coffee, and settle in to read the news. Even the lure of fresh vegetables won't rouse me out of the house. So I've been buying fruits and vegetables at the grocery store, lamenting how much better the carrots and the onions taste when they come straight from a Wisconsin farm and into my dinner in less than a week.

So what to do when there isn't much local food to eat? Why travel, of course. I usually take a few long weekends during this time, which is nice because I don't have to worry about spoiling food. It's also inspiring to sample the local delicacies of the places that I go, and even bring them home. During a short trip to Santa Fe, I alternated between red chili and green chili, and Ryan picked up a bag of pinon pancake mix. Pinon nuts come from small trees that grow in New Mexico. We've made two batches so far, including this morning. Although I set off the smoke detector, they were tasty with maple syrup. We ate them too fast for me to take pictures.

Another weekend, I went skiing with Ali and Becca in Montana. Ali had given me a bag of Evening in Missoula tea when she last visited Chicago. I'm not much of a tea drinker (coffee, hello), but I love the taste of this tea. It's so not Celestial Seasonings. Although I am still working my way through the first bag, I bought another to bring home.

Speaking of eating local food, I heard from Lauren in Singapore this morning, who was excited to report that she and Mo and their new precious little girl Samara are now getting a box of locally grown organic produce delivered to their doorstep. Apparently in Singapore that means kiwi from Italy, she writes. When I told Ryan, he said they must subscribe to a GSA - globally supported agriculture. But maybe that is as local as it gets in Singapore. Not everyone lives near a farm or has access to food grown nearby. I feel lucky that I do even though it's not year round. Maybe this will inspire me to freeze or can more during the summer. More likely, it will make me want to travel more.

Spicy Valentine

2009-02-17T20:12:00.012-06:00

We observed Valentine's Day on Sunday. I made dinner while Karl snacked on the flowers that Ryan got me.

I made a recipe from a cookbook called Where Flavor Was Born, which is organized by spices found in countries along the Indian Ocean. The dish came from the chapter on cardamom - green pods that taste like licorice.

The recipe had plenty of other spices too and turned out to be one of the most flavorful dishes that I've made.

Chicken Cardamom Masala with Cashews (From Where Flavor Was Born by Andreas Viestad)

1/2 cup plain full-fat yogurt
2 tablespoons garam masala
6-10 cardamom pods, lightly bruised
1 1-inch piece of cinnamon stick
2 teaspoons chili powder, or more to taste
2 teaspoons chopped fresh ginger
2 teaspoons salt
1 chicken, cut into 8 pieces, or 4 chicken thighs, halved (I used chicken breasts)
1 teaspoon powdered turmeric
Oil for panfrying
4 onions, chopped
3-5 cloves of garlic, chopped
4-6 teaspoons cashews
1-2 tablespoons tomato paste or ketchup
1/4 cup heavy cream (optional - I didn't use this)
Chopped cilantro or parsley for garnish

I also tossed in cauliflower and made brown rice.

In a large bowl, combine the yogurt, garam masala, cardamom, cinnamon stick, chili powder, ginger, and salt. Add the chicken, turning to coat. Let marinate for as long as you have time. Use a spatula to scrape of as much of the marinade from the chicken as possible; reserve the marinade. Pat the chicken dry using paper towels, and sprinkle with turmeric. Heat a tablespoon of oil in a wide pot over high heat. Add the chicken and cook, turning occasionally, for 10 minutes, or until the skin is nicely browned. Remove chicken, reduce heat, and saute onions and garlic for 4-5 minutes, until starting to soften. Add chicken, reserved marinade, cashews, and tomato paste, cover, and cook for 25-30 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through. Stir in cream (if desired) and cook for 2 more minutes. Garnish with cilantro.

Little Ones

2009-02-08T22:15:00.008-06:00

Karl

Grace

Here Come the Sun(chokes)

2009-01-27T16:56:00.006-06:00

Not surprisingly, plenty of root veggies came in the final winter CSA delivery two weeks ago.

Last year, I was overwhelmed with potatoes and clueless about rutabaga. This year, I am mildly swamped with potatoes with no rutabaga in sight. Instead we've been preoccupied with something new and different.

Sunchokes.

A.k.a. Jerusalem artichokes, these puppies neither come from Jerusalem nor do they resemble artichokes (according to Wikipedia, Europeans called them "girasole," which means sunflower in Italian. The J. a. is a type of sunflower). But they look more like a cross between ginger root and odd-shaped potatoes.

The Internet recommended putting them into soups and salads. Instead, we made this recipe. Let me tell you, it was a winner. So easy and healthy and nutty (flavored, that is). Ryan is researching grocery stores around Chicago to find out where we can get more.

Quinoa Sunchoke Pilaf (from foodreference.com)

3/4 cup quinoa
2 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 1/4 cup vegetable (or chicken) broth
1 cup chickpeas, cooked or canned, (drained and rinsed)
1 cup peeled, chopped sunchokes
1 cup peas, fresh or frozen
1 tsp pepper

Place the quinoa in a large bowl; fill with cold water. Pour into a strainer, then return the quinoa to the bowl and rinse 4 times more. Drain well. Heat the oil in a 2-quart saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the rinsed quinoa and cook, stirring, until it cracks and pops, about 3 to 5 minutes. Add the onion and cook, stirring, until the onion is soft. Add the vegetable broth and bring to a boil over high heat. Add the chickpeas, sunchokes, peas, and pepper, and return to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, 20 minutes. Fluff with a fork. Serve.

Sugar High

2009-01-22T21:59:00.007-06:00

For inauguration, I roadtripped to DC and went to a party at my dad's office, which overlooks the parade route on Pennsylvania Avenue.

It was fun and I was thrilled to see Obama take the oath of office (for the first time), but I ate way too much sugar.

First, I sampled some cookies. Then a piece of tiramisu. Followed by an apple bread cakey thing. I also drank an orange mango flavored Nantucket Nectars. I didn't actually eat the cookies pictured above. I was feeling a little gnarly by the time I saw them but thought they captured the spirit of the occasion.

After awhile, my head started to hurt. By the time I got home, I had a throbbing headache.

But it was worth it to see Obama's motorcade speed by on the way to the Capitol. To see Malia's face smiling from the window of The Beast during the parade. To see the Bidens waving to the crowd on Pennsylvania Avenue. To see Bush's helicopter flying away for good.

For that, I'd eat a thousand cookies.

A Moroccan Meal

2009-01-13T06:27:00.036-06:00

We try to keep the kitchen uncluttered with gadgets. But for Ryan, the holidays bring out a certain interest in international ceramic dishware. Over the past two years, he has gifted me with a few items that one might not find in most American kitchens.

Last year, he shopped at the Christkindlmart in Daley Plaza and bought me a zwiebeln jar, which means onions in German. This year, he followed up with a smaller knoblauch jar for garlic. Considering the amount of onions and garlic that come in the CSA, and how I use these indispensible ingredients in more recipes than I can count, I treasure these jars. There is the kitsch factor to appreciate too.

He also bought me another item that we had been contemplating - a tajine. The conical clay pots are used in Morocco to slow cook meat, veggies, fruit, and spices. The pointy top collects the steam and returns the condensation to cook the food in the dish. Lovely aromas ensue.

There are many different combinations that can go in the tajine, but commonly used foods include chicken, lamb, pork, fish, onions, peppers, potatoes, tomatoes, apples, pears, prunes, raisins, dates, cinnamon, turmeric, ginger, cumin, paprika, and saffron. Lemons and olives are frequently used ingredients.

Our came from a local giftshop that sells stuff like mood crystals and smells powerfully of patchouli. Unfortunately this odor had seeped into the tajine and failed to go away no matter how much we washed it. Finally we crossed our fingers that the food would taste okay.

The tajine came with a simple chicken recipe. It called for dried apricots, which always remind me of my grandmother, who passed away when I was a teenager.

I have this memory of us taking one of those tiny airplanes with an aisle you need to sidestep through and an overhead compartment that fits nothing but a jacket. It was a bumpy flight through the mountains so to calm our nerves from the turbulence, she took out a bag of apricots and handed them across the aisle one by one.

Each holiday season, my grandfather sends a bucket of trail mix. For some reason, he sent apricots this time. We mixed them with the other ingredients in the dish, put the whole deal in the oven, and passed the time with a Bollywood movie called Uriya.

Two hours later the oven buzzed. We were still watching this very long movie but paused to see how it turned out. The chicken was succulent and infused with flavor. There was no hint of patchouli although it was a bit too sweet - next time I would go easy on the honey. But the meal was one of the easiest to make and most delicious that I've eaten in a long time.

We then watched the end of the movie in which (spoiler warning!) the male lead, in trying to prevent his lady love from committing the terrorist act of detonating a bomb at India's Independence Day parade, begged her to blow them up together instead. And she did.

I suppose there is something to say about the different ways that people show love for one another, but I will leave it at that.

Holman Pottery* Tajine Recipe
4 chicken breasts, skinned

1/4 cup honey

1 large onion, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 sticks cinnamon

Juice of 1 lemon

2 teaspoons turmeric

1/2 cup dried apricot quarters

Preheat oven to 350. Arrange chicken breasts in bottom of tajine. Pour honey over chicken; sprinkle with onion and then with minced garlic. Add cinnamon sticks and sprinkle with lemon juice and turmeric. Top with apricot quarters, cover. Bake for about 2 hours or until fork can be inserted in chicken with ease. Remove cinnamon sticks from chicken mixture and serve with rice or couscous. Makes 4 servings.

* Makers of our tajine.

A Local Thanksgiving, Sort Of

2008-12-01T19:12:00.008-06:00

We had a very local Thanksgiving. Sort of. We went to Maryland but brought a lot of veggies from the CSA with us.

The adventure started on Thanksgiving eve when we boarded an Amtrak train to Cumberland, Maryland - about 45 minutes from Deep Creek Lake, where we spent the holiday with my parents.

The overnight ride took about 15 hours, and it was mostly great. We met some amusing passengers (like this beefy ex-marine type who kept saying "Namaste, buddy" to the baffled snack bar cashier of South Asian descent), watched the snowy shores of the Youghiogany River drift by from the lounge car, and got cricks in our necks from sleeping in recliner coach seats.

We also hauled a bunch of food for Thanksgiving dinner, like sweet potatoes, cranberry relish, pie pumpkin, and potatoes and leeks for a soup the night after.

With a few feet of snow on the ground outside and a cozy fire going, we prepared a fairly traditional dinner that also included turkey, stuffing, green beans, and lots o' wine. I felt so thankful for the food on the table, for the family sitting around it, and for family and friends who weren't with us.

The leftovers were plentiful, and we took all the food back to Washington, DC, where we spent the rest of the weekend. But as fun as the train was on the way there, we flew home with lighter bags but heavier stomachs.

Lost

2008-11-25T14:50:00.011-06:00

The carrot peeler disappeared last Thursday night.

It was the strangest thing. On Wednesday, I was peeling carrots like crazy, trying to use up the store-bought bag before picking up the first winter box for my CSA. On Thursday, I lugged home two overflowing bags of pie pumpkins, butternut and acorn squash, apples, mushrooms, sweet potatoes, more potatoes, onions, popcorn (yes!), cranberries, leeks, and a huge bag of juicy, juicy carrots.

I love carrots. Especially raw. Growing up, carrots were one of two vegetables that I ate (the other was green beans). I love the easy preparation and crunchyness. Carrots make the best snack.

And I was really looking forward to the carrots in my CSA, because they taste so fresh and worlds better than their counterparts at the grocery store.

So I was completely baffled when I went to look for the peeler, carrot in hand, and it was gone.

There has been some chaos in my household lately. We finally moved Ryan's turtle in last weekend, which to my surprise has been more high maintenance than Karl the cat, who sits on the bed and stares at the turtle all day long. We had to drain the 40-gallon tank, take out all the rocks, bring it over, create space for it, and design a set up for Grace to sun herself and dry off.

Amidst all of this, the carrot peeler vanished and we think Karl had something to do with it, but who knows? You can't ask a cat these things.

I try to keep my kitchen utensils to a minimun and stick to the basics, but this is one that I can't live without. So I resolved the situation in the easiest way I could think of and bought a new one, which works wonderfully.

Now I can eat carrots again, and I feel calmer already.

Obama, At Last

2008-11-05T19:13:00.001-06:00

(That title won out over, "Why I Love Living in Chicago.")

Fun with Sweet Potatoes

2008-10-30T08:38:00.001-05:00

The Good Fight

2008-10-19T10:04:00.006-05:00

Sometimes I feel like it's me vs. food.

I entered the kitchen last night with the best of intentions - to make a pasta with butternut squash, sage, and pine nuts recipe that caught my eye earlier this week from one of my favorite food web sites, The Kitchn. I had fond memories of a similar recipe that I made last year, although I realize now that my selective memory blocked out the bad stuff.

That is, how freaking hard it is to cut open a butternut squash. This guy was almost a foot long and its, ahem, bulge at the top was five inches wide. The recipe made it sound so easy. Just cut the squash in half, scoop out the seeds, peel the skin, and chop into 1-inch cubes.

I suppose the real problem here is how dull my knives are, but after wrestling with the squash for about 10 minutes, I thought my hand was going to fall off. (It didn't help that I burned the top of my hand on the oven while mixing up roasting pieces of squash.)

The peeling went a little better, although sliced skin flew every which way.

I felt a bit beaten down as I fried the roasted squash, garlic, and onions together with pasta and sage (I didn't have pine nuts). I had sore triceps, hand cramps, and all. But in the end, I think I came out on top. Although the final result tasted a little dry, the flavor of butternut squash has been one of my favorite food discoveries since I joined a CSA, making last night's battle well worth the fight.

Cry, Cry, Cry

2008-10-08T18:47:00.013-05:00

While I haven't been very diligent about photographing my meals lately, I used a lot of food from my CSA this week.

On Sunday night my intention was to make the yellow spaghetti squash that had been taunting me from its waiting place on my kitchen table. I had never prepared nor eaten spaghetti squash before, but with Ryan on a business trip and a prior bad experience with the food, I thought it would be a good time to make it and catch up on some trashy tv.

Of course I was too tired to cook on Sunday night, so I vowed to make it on Monday and even found a recipe for pear and radicchio salad to go along with it, since those were two other items from last week's box.

Instead I *prepared* a dish, which is what I used to do all the time before I truly started to cook. I took the last 5 potatoes that didn't make it into the kugel and threw them in a pot of boiling water. Once softened, I mashed with butter and salt and paired with a small salad consisting of the remaining green lettuce and carrots from the CSA.

Then I watched Extreme Home Makeover and cried at the reveal.

Of course I was too tired to cook on Monday night, so after staring down the squash, I vowed to make it on Tuesday and scrambled some eggs with sauteed diced leeks and sliced heirloom tomotoes, both from the CSA. I prefer my tomatoes of the grape variety, but I have to say that these orange-colored orbs were sweet and tasted delicious mixed with the eggs.

Then I watched Gossip Girl and cried when I realized it was a repeat of the season premiere.

Tuesday night was the second presidential debate, and I was determined to make that squash, especially since Ryan was home and game to eat it. I preheated the oven to 375, poked some holes in its gleaming skin, and stuck it in the oven for an hour. While it cooked, I chopped a head of radicchio with pears and tossed with a dressing of garlic, olive oil, salt, pepper, and lemon juice.

Once the squash was ready, I sliced it open (my knife went through it like butter), scooped out the seeds and gook, and used a fork to gently peel away the strands. I was enthralled with how much it looked like spaghetti! We made a recipe called spaghetti squash with Moroccan spices. I should say that the recipe recommended microwaving the squash, which I find horrific for some reason, but I found that baking it made my kitchen smell really good.

We then cried (with joy) as Obama thumped McCain.

Spaghetti Squash with Moroccan Spices (from epicurious.com)

1 (3 1/2- to 4-pound) spaghetti squash
1/2 stick (4 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Pierce squash (about an inch deep) all over with a small sharp knife to prevent bursting. Cook in an 800-watt microwave oven on high power (100 percent) for 6 to 7 minutes. Turn squash over and microwave until squash feels slightly soft when pressed, 8 to 10 minutes more. Cool squash for 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt butter in a small heavy saucepan over moderately high heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring, until golden, about 1 minute.

Happy New Year!

2008-09-30T22:56:00.014-05:00

Fall is suddenly here! The air is chilly and crisp. I even bundled up in a heavy jacket today, and my feet crunched over some leaves on my way to work.

This is my favorite time of year. It's that back to school, football game weather. It's the kind of weather that makes you want to bake something, anything, just so you can turn on the oven to warm up the kitchen.

And last night, I did. In honor of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, I made some traditional foods for dinner, including potato kugel and honey mustard chicken.

The honey is eaten to celebrate a sweet new year.

Somehow, we have three bottles of honey in the cupboard. One is from the CSA, the second came back with us from our trip to Mexico, and the third we bought from a small canoe livery in the middle of Ohio (random, but true).

Because of our extensive honey collection, we were pretty happy to usher in Rosh Hashanah. Tonight, I'll dip some apples into the honey (and probably tomorrow night, and the next night too).

L'Shana Tovah!

Potato Kugel (from kosherfood.about.com)

8 medium potatoes
2 onions
6 eggs
1/2 cup oil
4 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
1 heaping Tbsp. salt
1/2-1 tsp. pepper

1. Preheat oven to 400° Fahrenheit (200° Celcius).
2. In a large bowl, mix eggs, oil, flour, salt and pepper. Set aside.
3. Coarsely grate the potatoes and onion by hand or food processor. Let stand 3-5 minutes. Squeeze out excess liquid. Add grated potatoes to the egg-flour mixture. Mix by hand only until smooth.
4. Pour into a greased 9x13 inch baking dish.
5. Bake, uncovered, for 1 hour or until golden brown on top and a knife inserted in the middle comes out clean.
YIELD: 12-14 servings.

Chicken in Honey Mustard Sauce (from judaism.about.com)

4 pounds chicken pieces
1/2 cup flour
4 Tbs. pareve margarine
1/2 cup Dijon mustard
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup chicken bouillon
blanched roasted almonds for garnish

1. Coat each piece of chicken with flour, and brown the chicken in the melted margarine.
2. Arrange the chicken in a greased pan.
3. Mix the honey, mustard and bouillon and pour this over the chicken pieces.
4. Cover and bake in preheated 375 degrees Fahrenheit oven for 45 minutes.
5. Garnish with the roasted almonds. Serve over a bed of white rice.

Chopping and Chakras

2008-09-07T10:07:00.016-05:00

When I moved into my condo two years ago, I often heard a man chanting somewhere outside my window while I was in my kitchen. I never knew where it came from, but it sounded like rapid-fire meditation with chakras in full gear. Gradually I stopped noticing, even when I started spending more time in the kitchen.

Yesterday I was in a very domestic state - cleaning, doing laundry, and other chores - when I decided to make sauteed summer squash with red pepper and onion for lunch. I had all of those vegetables from my last CSA delivery, along with garlic and parsley. It was one of those rare occasions where I had everything at my fingertips.

But the recipe required a lot of prep work. As I chopped vegetables, lost in my own thoughts, I suddenly heard the chanting outside my window. I peered out but only heard the familiar rhythmic mantras of someone seeking spiritual nirvana.

Wikipedia describes meditation as a mental discipline that is practiced for many possible reasons: to achieve "a higher state of consciousness, to greater focus, creativity or self-awareness, or simply a more relaxed and peaceful frame of mind."

I've never formally meditated in my life, except for belting out a couple of long "oms" during yoga class. But for me, cooking is a form of meditation. I find myself very focused as I manage the whole food preparation process into a meal to be eaten.

Cooking is a good activity for goal-oriented people who like to see tangible results after they put a lot of hard work into something. It reminds me of why I once trained for a marathon. After several months of hard work and motivation, I achieved a goal - an incredibly empowering and satisfying thing to do (although the pay off of cooking is eating, which is much more pleasurable than running 26.2 miles).

Maybe that has nothing to do with meditation. I don't know. But I find that activities that require me to work with my hands, like cooking or gardening, tap into that creative part of my brain. There is something so rewarding about completing these kinds of projects. I always feel better afterwards - kind of like getting that runner's high.

Sauteed Summer Squash with Red Pepper and Onion (from The New York Times)

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 medium onion, chopped (about 1 cup chopped) (I used a whole onion, medium sized)
2 plump garlic cloves, minced (I love garlic and used 5 medium-sized cloves)
1 1/2 pounds summer squash, cut in 1/2-inch dice (I used 2 squash)
1 small red pepper, cut in 1/4-inch dice
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Heat the olive oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium heat, and add the onion. Stir often and cook until tender, five to eight minutes, then add the garlic, summer squash, red pepper and about 3/4 teaspoon of salt. Turn the heat to medium-high and cook, stirring, until the squash is translucent and the red pepper tender, about 10 minutes. Add freshly ground pepper, taste and adjust salt. Stir in the parsley, and remove from the heat. Serve as a side dish, or use it as a filling for a vegetable tart, gratin or frittata. (I served over brown rice.)

Going Greek

2008-08-31T09:50:00.009-05:00

I made a refreshing and easy Greek salad recipe last night using mostly local ingredients.

The cucumbers came from Ginkgo Organic Gardens on Chicago's north side. I've been volunteering here throughout the summer, although this is the first item of produce that I've taken home with me. That's because all the food grown here is donated to Vital Bridges, an Uptown non-profit that serves low-income, HIV-positive individuals.

I absolutely love this idea because when I think of food pantries, I think of canned goods that are high in sodium and not always nutritious. In fact, I was even made fun of once for buying a low-fat, low-sodium canned soup to donate to a food drive, but I felt that someone who can't afford to eat healthy shouldn't eat this kind of processed food in the first place.

That's what leads to health problems like obesity and high cholesterol for a group of people who have little access to quality health care.

I don't know of any other dedicated "food pantry" gardens in the city, but this one donates about 1,500 pounds of food a year - all from a lot that is the size of single family home. When I think about all the vacant lots in Chicago, a lot of people could be fed with nutritious produce.

Yesterday after all the food had been harvested for the weekly delivery, I was helping to clear the cucumber bed when I discovered a few big ones left behind. We determined that they wouldn't last another week, which is how they ended up in my salad.

I combined the cucumbers with some grape tomatoes that I picked up at a farmer's market on Damen in the North Center neighborhood and added a green pepper from my CSA. The rest of the ingredients were not so local - the red onion and feta cheese came from Whole Foods, as did the lemon that was squeezed into the dressing which included olive oil, garlic, salt, and pepper.

Greek Salad (from mediterrasian.com)

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1½ tablespoons lemon juice
1 clove garlic—minced (crushed)
½ teaspoon dried oregano
¼ teaspoon sea salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, and extra for garnish
3 tomatoes—cut into wedges
¼ red onion—sliced into rings
½ cucumber—sliced into thick half-moons
½ green pepper (capsicum)— julienned
4 oz (120g) feta cheese— cut into small cubes
16 kalamata olives (I didn't include olives)

Place the olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, salt, pepper and oregano in a small jar with a screw-top lid and shake to combine.

Place the salad ingredients in a large bowl.

Pour the dressing over the salad and toss gently to combine just before serving.

Garnish the Greek salad with a little freshly ground black pepper.

Veggie Love

2008-08-24T21:33:00.005-05:00

Tonight's meal used up a bunch of veggies, and I've got major leftovers. I love when that happens.

I wanted to use up the eggplant, tomatoes, and romano beans, so I set out to find some recipes.

Since I had tried grilled eggplant a few weeks ago and sauteing is my favorite way to cook, I started to look at pasta dishes that called for some slicing and dicing. Several happened to include tomatoes, but since I didn't have enough tomatoes (or time) to make sauce, I zeroed in on recipes that included them diced.

This penne with eggplant, tomato, and basil recipe met all of my criteria. While the directions seemed a bit daunting, it wasn't very complicated. Neither was the garlicky romano beans side dish that I made at the same time.

The key was to prepare all of the food beforehand, which I don't always do. But I'd recommend doing that with these recipes, especially if you make them together, because you won't have much time to peel or chop anything once you get started.

For me the key ingredient in the pasta was the crushed red pepper flakes. I probably shook in a bit more than 1/4 teaspoon, which enhanced the flavor and complimented the overwhelming amount of eggplant.

The beans were slightly crunchy and refreshing. The infused oil didn't have much flavor, but I thought the beans tasted great on their own anyway.

Penne with Eggplant, Tomato, and Basil (from Taunton Press)

1/4 cup plus 2 Tbs. extra-virgin olive oil; more for drizzling
1 medium eggplant (1 lb.), cut into 1/4-inch dice (about 6 cups)
Kosher salt
1 small red onion, thinly sliced (We had a white onion, so I used that instead)
1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes; more to taste
1-1/4 lb. tomatoes, seeded and cut into 1/2-inch chunks (about 2-1/3 cups)
3 medium cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 cup roughly chopped fresh basil
3/4 lb. dried penne rigate (I used rigatoni)
1/2 cup coarsely grated Parmigiano Reggiano or ricotta salata

Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil.

Heat 1/4 cup of the oil in a 12-inch skillet over high heat until shimmering hot. Add the eggplant and a generous pinch of salt. Reduce the heat to medium high and cook, stirring occasionally, until the eggplant is tender and light golden brown, about 6 minutes. Transfer to a plate. Reduce the heat to medium, return the pan to the stove, and add the remaining 2 Tbs. oil, the onion, red pepper flakes, and a pinch of salt. Cook until the onion is tender and golden brown, about 6 minutes. Add the tomatoes and another pinch of salt, and cook until the tomatoes start to break down and form a sauce, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Return the eggplant to the pan, add the basil, and cook for 1 minute more to let the flavors meld. Taste the sauce and add salt if needed.

Cook the pasta in the boiling water until al dente. Reserve a small amount of the cooking water and drain the pasta. Put the pasta in a large bowl and toss with the eggplant mixture. If the pasta needs a little more moisture, add a splash of the pasta water. Taste and add salt if needed. Put the pasta on a platter or divide among shallow bowls and finish with a drizzle of oil. Sprinkle the Parmigiano or ricotta salata on top and serve immediately.

Garlicky Romano Beans (from kitchen-parade-veggieventure.blogspot.com)

GARLIC- and ROSEMARY-INFUSED OIL
1 cup olive oil
a large sprig of fresh rosemary
5 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed with flat of a knife
Heat oil, rosemary and garlic in a skillet (the larger surface area heats the oil more evenly and quickly) until the rosemary sizzles.
Turn off heat and let rest for 20 minutes.
Remove the rosemary and garlic.

BEANS
Salted water to cover
1 pound beans, ends snapped
1 tablespoon garlic and rosemary-infused oil
1 tablespoon good bread crumbs (tonight, a Swedish rye)
Salt & pepper

Bring the salted water to a boil. Add the beans and cook for 5 minutes or until done but still bright green. (They cook faster than regular green beans.) Drain and toss with the oil and bread crumbs. Season to taste. (I left out the bread crumbs)

At the Lake

2008-08-23T09:11:00.004-05:00

Every summer I spend a long weekend at my parents' lake house in western Maryland. It's about a 10-hour drive from Chicago.

Since Ryan couldn't make it this year, I got a ride with my sister's family. In the mini-van. With my 2- and 4-year-old nephews. And the dog.

It was a long ride.

In the 20 summers that my family has spent up there, we've always eaten the same meals. Grilled hamburgers. Grilled chicken. Corn on the cob. Salad. Yuengling beer.

This year I brought some food from my CSA - a bag of carrots, potatoes, an eggplant, and a watermelon. I wasn't concerned about introducing some "new" foods into the mix, but I wondered how it would play out.

The carrots were easy. In fact, my nephews and I ate most of them before we got there. They helped me peel all of them before we left Chicago by standing on little stools to reach the sink. Once I showed Max how to peel down from the top of the carrot (instead of the other way around), he was a pro. Nate mostly watched and knawed on a peeled one.

I wanted to use the eggplant as soon as possible because it had been a few days, and I was worried that it would go bad if we waited too long. Our first night there as hamburgers sizzled on the grill, I cut the eggplant into vertical slices, dipped each side in olive oil, and salted. Then I threw them on the grill for about 7 minutes on each side. Delicious!

A few nights later, we boiled and mashed the potatoes with butter, milk, and salt. Decent, but not enough flavor.

My favorite food moment came with the melon.

I was upstairs when my mom, Max, and Nate sliced it open. "Linds?" my mom called out. "Are you sure this is a watermelon?"

"I think so," I said. The CSA newsletter had said I would get either a watermelon, an orange fleshed musk melon, or a green fleshed honey dew.

"It's yellow!"

I went downstairs to see for myself. My mom was cutting up little pieces and digging out the seeds as my nephews gobbled them up. She couldn't cut fast enough. They literally squealed with delight.

It looked like a watermelon. It tasted like a watermelon (but sweeter). We decided that it was a watermelon. (Unfortunately I forgot to bring my camera but here is a great photo of the watermelon taken by someone else who is in my CSA.)

Okay, so that would be my favorite CSA-related food moment.

My true favorite food moment came when we made s'mores. I think Max and Nate liked them too.

Camping Trip

2008-08-16T08:47:00.010-05:00

As summer begins to wind down, I managed to squeeze in two short vacations over the past two weeks.

First I went to Missoula to visit my friend Ali, who moved from Chicago last year. (I'll blog about the second trip in a later post.) Every Saturday there are three farmer's markets, which we hit up to buy food for an overnight camping trip.

We got some onions, garlic, squash, carrots, chard, cheese, and potatoes to make a veggie stir fry over the campfire and what Ali calls a "tinfoil surprise" (put chopped up potatoes with whatever veggies you have in tinfoil, throw it into the fire for awhile, unwrap, and eat).

But our planned meals almost didn't happen.

We set out for a campground later that day, a spot a little over an hour away on the Bitterroot River.

We were car camping so we didn't bring a container or rope to sling the food up in a tree, but we did have some bear spray just in case.

But bears turned out to be the least of our problems.

We hadn't made a reservation and that campsite was full. So were the next 8 campsites that we tried.

We had driven around for about four hours and it was starting to get late when we pulled into Holland Lake. Apparently there are a lot of unmarked campsites in Montana where you just have to know where to go. Ali had been to the lodge at the lake before and knew there was camping. But from the road, we never would have known.

We pulled in, and there was one open site! So what if it was right next to the bathrooms with no view of the lake?

Then we realized that the site was reserved. It was also 7:30pm and would get dark in about an hour, so we decided to stay. The camp manager said that if the group came and kicked us out, we could set up our tent in the "day use" area.

We were hungry, so we took our chances and started to build a fire. Our wood was a little wet and moldy, so it didn't quite roar. We made our tinfoil surprises but since it was late, we decided to eat the veggie stir fry with eggs for breakfast the next day.

Even though it was practically dark, we held our breath every time a car went by on the road - hoping it wasn't the people who reserved our site.

By this point we were starving. Throwing in the surprises had just about killed the fire, but we kept them in the embers. One of them cooked a little more than the other, but they weren't bad with some added seasonings. And we didn't have to worry about putting out the fire, which took care of itself!

We tucked in the tent for some uninterrupted sleep (for me anyway, Ali thought she heard an animal in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep).

The next morning, we walked down to the lake. It was spectacular!

We made our eggs and veggie stir fry (over her camp stove - no more fire), packed up, and headed home, thanking the Marsenichs on our way out for not showing up.

Exploring Other Options

2008-07-24T16:55:00.007-05:00

The other day I visited the Lincoln Square Farmer's Market. With no CSA box coming for a few weeks, I decided to stop by and see what was available.

It was a beautiful sight.

There was so much color and variety - corn, tomatoes, onions, broccoli, lettuce, beets, greenbeans, blueberries, raspberries, zucchini, bread, flowers, cheese, and more.

I didn't go into the market with a plan, which is usually my downfall when I go to the grocery store. I'll buy some produce without a specific recipe in mind and always find that I'm missing something when I decide to make a dish.

While I've gotten a lot better at knowing what foods go together and anticipating what I might need, I still follow recipes closely and rarely improvise.

I bought some zucchini at the farmer's market and found a recipe for zucchini pasta on the New York Times web site. I didn't have tomatoes though, and even though the recipe didn't include garlic, I think almost any recipe is enhanced by it. I also needed pasta.

My commute from Lake Forest is over an hour on a train, and I'm usually unmotivated to do much when I get home. So rather than wait until then to go to the store, I decided to buy the missing ingredients in Lake Forest. I normally opt against this because everything costs more there.

But I was getting hungry, so I went for convenience over price. There's a small produce market in a quaint brick alleyway called Amadei Mercatino, where I picked up some tomatoes and garlic ("Did you squeeze it?" the owner asked. "Always squeeze garlic. It should be hard. If it's soft, you don't want it.")

It is a charming little hidden nook that overflows with bright flowers and colorful, fresh produce, and I knew I would get quality food. But by the time I bought those items and the pasta at a specialty food store across from the train station, I was out almost $10, which seems ridiculous for a bag of noodles, two tomatoes, and garlic (especially considering I had bought zucchinis and a bunch of onions for maybe $2 at the farmer's market).

But I liked how the dish turned out and decided my investment was sound when I had enough for lunch the next day.

Zucchini Pasta (from the New York Times)

Salt and pepper
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
5 or 6 medium zucchini, rinsed, trimmed and cut into ribbons or coins
1 large onion, chopped
2 or 3 sprigs thyme (I subbed garlic for thyme)
2 tomatoes, in wedges or roughly chopped, with their juice
1/2 pound cut pasta, like ziti or penne (I used 3/4 pound, which gave me plenty for leftovers)
Freshly grated Parmesan or freshly chopped parsley for garnish.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt it. Put olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add zucchini, onion and thyme, and cook, stirring occasionally. Add salt and pepper and adjust heat so onion and zucchini release their liquid without browning. Cook for about 20 minutes, or until very tender.

Add tomatoes and their liquid to zucchini and raise heat a bit so mixture bubbles. Cook pasta until it is nearly but not quite tender. If sauce threatens to dry out, add a little pasta cooking water.

Drain pasta and finish cooking it in sauce. Serve, garnished with parsley or Parmesan.

4 servings.

Making Do

2008-07-21T20:41:00.010-05:00

I received some potentially grim news from my CSA over the weekend. The weather over the past year - the recent floods, a later-than-usual winter, and last summer's drought - had taken its toll. Home Grown Wisconsin decided not to deliver food boxes for the next two weeks and will add two weeks on at the end of the season.

The farmers simply needed time to catch up and let their food grow. Too much had either rotted or washed away, and they had to replant a lot of crops.

I knew this was a risk going into the CSA, but I consider myself very lucky to have access and the means to buy fresh and healthy food until it starts up again. I feel terrible for the farmers though. For their sakes, I hope they can overcome this setback and recover their losses. I don't know how devastating the weather has been to their bottom lines, but this gives me all the more reason to buy from them whenever I can.

So with no CSA box coming for awhile, I'm going to do the next best thing - shop at farmer's markets and grocery stores that sell locally grown food in the meantime.

Tonight I went to the Green Grocer, a new store in Chicago that sells food from Midwestern farmers. I bought a bunch of chard, a yellow squash, and a jar of tomatillo salsa from a farm near Madison, Wisconsin. I was going to make quesadillas but when I stopped by my Mexican grocery store, several boxes filled with corn tortillas beckoned me (so did the price - only 36 cents for a dozen!).

I made chard and squash soft tacos instead.

To create this dish, I chopped the squash and sauteed in garlic and olive oil, added the cut pieces of chard and covered for a few minutes. Meanwhile, I heated up a few tortillas, then added the veggie mixture, and spooned a bit of the tomatilla salsa on top followed by a sprinkle of grated parmesan.

The cooking part took very little time, and the taste of the corn tortillas brought back some great memories from my trip to Mexico - it was the shopping part that took awhile, mostly because the Green Grocer is nowhere near where I live. But I'm glad I made the extra effort.

Cool Down

2008-07-17T17:59:00.003-05:00

It's steamy hot in Chicago, so I made a chilled cucumber yogurt soup the other night. This is another recipe from Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (since the strawberry rhubarb crisp was so tasty).

This is a very simple recipe but as usual, a few mishaps occured. We didn't have any dill, giving the soup a strong yogurt taste (I think the dill would have added more balance to the flavor). Due to some major spillage during the food processing, my soup turned out a little chunkier than expected. But I think that added good texture. I also subbed microgreens from my box for the garnish.

Cucumber Yogurt Soup

8 small-medium cucumbers peeled and chopped
3 cups water
3 cups plain yogurt
2 tablespoons dill
1 tablespoon lemon juice (optional)
1 cup nasturtium leaves and petals (optional garnish)

Combine ingredients in food processor until smooth, chill before serving. Garnish.

Take Two

2008-07-12T15:11:00.009-05:00

I'd like to improve the photography on this blog, which is a challenge because my kitchen is dark and I do most of my cooking at night.

But I had some time this afternoon and thought what better recipe to experiment with than strawberry rhubarb crisp.

I know what you're thinking - didn't she already make a strawberry rhubarb dish? Good memory! I did, but it didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. The rhubarb was too crunchy, and frankly, I didn't even know how it was supposed to taste.

Early this week, Ryan and I went out for dinner, and the restaurant had a strawberry rhubarb dessert on the menu. Knowing that I might get more of these ingredients in my CSA box this week, we ordered it to see what we were missing.

It was completely different than the dish I had made - the strawberries had melted into a sweet fruity goo that was filled with tender but tart rhubarb. The ice cream quickly fell through a toasty crust and dissolved, becoming one with the sugary goodness.

I didn't try to recreate the dish I had made before. Instead I found a recipe that required baking the rhubarb rather than sauteing, as that's what seems to have tripped me up the first time.

I found a recipe for strawberry rhubarb crisp on the Animal, Vegetable, Miracle web site. For those who haven't heard of it, this is a book written by Barbara Kingsolver about her family's experience living off their land for a year. I'm only on the fourth chapter, but already I'd recommend it.

Anyways, here's my attempt at creating food porn.

I also tried to stage a shot of a piece on a plate with some ice cream. It must have looked so good that Karl wanted a taste.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp (from Animal, Vegetable, Miracle web site)

3 cups strawberries, halved
3 cups chopped rhubarb
1/2 cup honey
Mix thoroughly into an 8X8 ungreased pan.

1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. allspice
1/3 cup butter
Mix until crumbly, sprinkle over fruit mixture and bake at 350 for 40-50 minutes, until golden. (I took mine out at 40 minutes because I only had 2 cups of strawberries and rhubarb. I used 1/3 cup of flour, rolled oats, and brown sugar.)

Chinese Food

2008-07-11T07:56:00.003-05:00

Week 3: cucumbers (including the longest cucumber I have ever seen!), rhubarb, sugar snap peas, onions, strawberries, lettuce, green top beets, bok choy, zucchini, and micro greens. We were also supposed to get either kohlrabi or turnips, but neither of those items came in my box. I'm looking into it.

On Wednesday night we made Baby Bok Choy with Cashews even though my bok choy looked more like a young adult. Bok choy is Chinese cabbage that resembles spinach with its big dark leafy greens.

When I was growing up, my family would go to one of two Chinese restaurants in town and I would always order the same thing - chicken mushroom. But I wouldn't eat any of the mushrooms. That's how picky of an eater I was.

As I got older and began to eat more vegetables, I would order chicken with snow peas. I don't even remember bok choy on the menu anywhere. I feel like I've come a long way.

This recipe turned out fairly well. It was easy to make, although I would try it with actual baby bok choy next time because the bigger stalks were difficult to cut. I think they should've been more tender, but we didn't want to cook them for much longer because the leaves had already wilted quite a bit.

I served with tofu and brown rice.

Baby Bok Choy with Cashews (from Simply Recipes)

2 Tbsp olive oil
1 cup chopped green onions, including green ends
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 pound baby bok choy, rinsed, larger leaves separated from base, base trimmed but still present, holding the smaller leaves together
1/2 teaspoon dark sesame oil
Salt
1/2 cup chopped, roasted, salted cashews

Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan on medium high heat. Add onions, then garlic, then bok choy. Sprinkle with sesame oil and salt. Cover, and let the baby bok choy cook down for approximately 3 minutes. (Like spinach, when cooked, the bok choy will wilt a bit.)
Remove cover. Lower heat to low. Stir and let cook for a minute or two longer, until the bok choy is just cooked.
Gently mix in cashews.
Serves 4.

Speaking of Cabbage...

2008-07-01T07:45:00.001-05:00

The New York Times named it one of the 11 best foods you aren't eating in this article yesterday.

Maybe the Times should join a CSA!

C is for Cabbage

2008-06-28T17:11:00.007-05:00

Even though I am getting deliveries every other week, the CSA recommends using most of the food within the first 5 days or so. Some can go in the freezer, but I see it as a challenge to cook and eat as much as possible within the first week.

Of course I am going to be out of town the next two nights, so we've been a little more frantic than usual to use the food.

Last night we wanted to use the cabbage and still had some mint left over from the first delivery. Ryan went online and found a recipe called ginger-scented tomato and cabbage soup with fresh mint.

One of the ingredients was alphabet pasta!

We enjoyed the soup a lot. It was steaming hot so we ate outside, where it was much cooler than in my kitchen. All the vegetables still had a little crunch, and the cabbage added some nice texture.

Ginger-Scented Tomato and Cabbage Soup with Fresh Mint

1 head of cabbage
4 ounces small pasta, such as alphabets
2 onions, coarsely chopped
3-5 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon butter
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 small carrot, diced
2 cups diced fresh tomatoes
6 cups vegetable broth

10-15 fresh mint leaves
salt, black pepper and cayenne pepper to taste

Cook the pasta, drain and set aside.
Lightly sauté the onion and garlic in butter until softened. Stir in the ginger and carrot and cook for a few moments; add tomatoes, broth and cabbage.
Cook over medium heat until the vegetables are tender (15-20 minutes).

Adjust seasoning.
Ladle the soup over several spoonfuls of pasta per person.

Season each portion with a sprinkling of fresh mint and serve immediately.

A Summer Feast

2008-06-26T22:09:00.011-05:00

Week two of the CSA was greener than the first: two different kinds of lettuce, collards, cabbage, green zucchinis, sugar snap peas, parsley, grape leaves, garlic scapes...and some mushrooms and strawberries for color.

Last night I decided to dig in and made a 3-course meal.

First, I trolled some other blogs for recipe ideas.

For the first course, I found a recipe for strawberry and feta salad. I was so excited to get strawberries after all the rain in Wisconsin hurt the first harvest, but there was enough to give everyone a pint in their box this week. So when I discovered the recipe on Closet Cooking (which has a much better picture than I took), I knew this was it.

Can I just say yum?

The salad was so fresh and crisp and sweet and cheesy, while the tangy dressing added flavors of garlic, mustard, honey, balsamic and raspberry vinegar....This was a big winner, a perfect refreshing summer recipe, and I will definitely make it again.

For the main course, I decided to make the stuffed grape leaves recipe from the CSA newsletter. This was both fun and slightly problematic to make.

The fun part was stuffing and roling up the grape leaves. It was pretty simple. I dipped the leaves into boiling water for about 30 seconds and removed the stems. Then I laid the leaves shiny side down and placed about a tablespoon of the mixture (ground beef, rice, cinnamon, salt, and pepper) across the leaf and folded forward, right side, left side, and then rolled it up tight.

Then I mixed together chopped garlic, lemon juice, mint, and a cup of water and poured the mixture over the grape leaves, which I had put in a pot. Simmer for an hour, and that's it.

I was worried that the meat wouldn't cook well, but the real problem was the flavor. There was none. I had way too much meat left over (1/2 pound beef for eight grape leaves = way too much meat). It was nearly tasteless. But the grape leaves held up well, and I'd like to experiment with another recipe.

For dessert, I decided to make zucchini bread since I typically saute it with other veggies. I found a recipe on Smitten Kitchen, which features photos that make you want to reach inside the computer and stuff your face with them.

The delicious smell wafting out of my kitchen was the first sign that the bread would turn out well. In anticipation we walked up the block to Baskin Robbins and bought a pint of vanilla ice cream. This turned out to be a great call. The bread, with its slightly nutty taste from the addition of chopped walnuts, stood quite well on its own. But the warm bread soaked with the cold vanilla ice cream was phenomenal. We saved some ice cream for tonight, when we made the second loaf.

Luckily we still have another zucchini left.

Strawberry and Feta Salad (from Closet Cooking and Allrecipes.com)
1 clove garlic (grated)
1/2 teaspoon honey
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/2 tablespoon raspberry vinegar
1/2 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 serving romaine lettuce (cut into bite sized pieces)
1 handful strawberries (sliced)
1 handful feta cheese (crumbled)
1 handful slivered almonds (toasted)

Mix the garlic, honey, mustard, vinegar and oil.
Toss the lettuce, almonds, strawberries and almonds with the dressing to coat.

Stuffed Grape Leaves (from Home Grown Wisconsin)
8 fresh grape leaves – blanched – dip in boiling water for about 30 seconds
1/2 C. uncooked brown rice
2 Tbs. fresh or dried mint
1 Cup Water
1/2 pound ground lamb, beef or pork (we found this was way too much meat for 8 grape leaves)
Pinch of cinnamon, salt, pepper
2 garlic cloves
1 lemon

Mix meat with rice, salt, pepper and cinnamon.
Remove stem from grape leaf, spread leave on flat surface, shiny side down
Place about 1 teaspoon of meat mixture across the leafabout 1/2 inch from stem point.
Fold leaf forward toward stuffing.
Then fold right side over and roll leaf very tight. When fully rolled, squeeze it to secure. Repeat. Neatly place each stuffed roll in large pot in layers.
Pound garlic with mint and salt.
Add 1 cup water and juice from lemon andpour over grape leaves.
Cover and bring to a boil. Turn down to simmer, cover and cook slowly for 1 hour.
Steam until grape leaves are soft, but not falling apart.
Don’t over cook.

Zucchini Bread (from Smitten Kitchen)
Yield: 2 loaves or approximately 24 muffins
3 eggs
1 cup olive or vegetable oil
1 3/4 cups sugar
2 cups grated zucchini
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 cups all-purpose flour
3 teaspoons cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)
1 cup dried cranberries, raisins or chocolate chips or a combination thereof (optional)

The New Frontier

2008-06-20T09:19:00.007-05:00

Last night I ventured into uncharted territory. Dessert.

Until now, I've used my CSA ingredients in stews, salads, soups, side dishes, dressings, toppings, and snacks. But never dessert.

That is, until I got some rhubarb. At first I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. Of course, I had heard of rhubarb pie, but I didn't see myself making that.

Actually I couldn't understand how rhubarb - which looks like red celery - would transform into a dessert. It looks more like a vegetable that you would dip into hummus or salsa.

But a quick search on epicurious.com brought up mostly tart, pie, and compote recipes, often made with strawberries, which are also harvested this time of year (sadly though, the waterlogged strawberry crops mean much fewer, if any, pints in my box this summer, according to my CSA).

I settled on a rhubarb and strawberry compote with fresh mint spooned over vanilla ice cream.

After I stopped drooling, I chopped the rhubarb into 1/2 inch pieces, which went into a saucepan with 1/4 cup of water and 1 1/2 cups of sugar and simmered for 10 minutes. I either cut the rhubarb too big or should have simmered longer because the final outcome (stirred together with halved strawberries and mint and chilled for an hour before spooning over ice cream) was more crunchy than tender.

This was noted in the recipe - to cook until tender - but I was too busy preparing dinner to think about tasting it. This was shocking to realize, because I have a huge sweet tooth.

So next time, I'll be sure to make dessert separately.

Rhubarb and Strawberry Compote with Fresh Mint (from Bon Appetit, May 2008)

3 cups 1/2-inch-wide pieces fresh rhubarb (cut from about 1 pound)
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup water
1 1-pint container fresh strawberries, hulled, halved
2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint

Combine rhubarb, sugar, and 1/4 cup water in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Bring to simmer, stirring occasionally, until sugar dissolves, about 3 minutes. Simmer gently until rhubarb is tender but not falling apart, stirring occasionally, about 7 minutes. Remove from heat. Stir in strawberries. Transfer to bowl and stir in mint. Chill until cold, about 1 hour.

Summer of Green(s)

2008-06-13T08:55:00.027-05:00

I've jumped on the non-fossil fuel emitting bandwagon. I have always ridden a bicycle, but for the first time, I'm making a conscious effort to reduce my driving.

This, in part, came about because of my participation in a CSA. During the winter share, I realized I was buying less but driving more to the grocery store. Instead of my weekly run, where I'd buy food for the next several days, I would pick an ingredient or two from the box, find a recipe, and drive to the store to buy what was missing from my shelves -- a few times a week.

I felt like these extra trips defeated the purpose of community supported agriculture, which should cut down on greenhouse gas emissions through deliveries of locally grown food (I say "should" because of current research challenging the notion that eating local always leaves a smaller carbon footprint than eating food that comes from farther afield, depending on how food is packaged and transported, what type of food it is, and how it is grown).

I have since started going to the small Mexican grocery store around the corner more but still shop often at the nearest Jewel and Whole Foods, which are close but not walking distance.

With warmer weather (finally!) hitting Chicago, I decided to cut those short car trips out as much as possible. I took my rusty but trusty 12-year-old mountain bike to a bike shop and got a rack and two collapsable baskets installed on the back.

And just in time for the summer CSA, which started Wednesday!

Speaking of green, there is a lot of that in this share.

Fortunately, many of the Wisconsin farms that contribute to my CSA were not hit too hard by all the rain and flooding that is devastating parts of the Midwest. At least that's the preliminary report. In the first box, we got lettuce, spinach, asparagus, green garlic, mint, and chives (topped by purple flowers, who knew?).

While there are many greens, the share includes some brilliant colors - those purple flowers, bright red radishes (which tasted crispy and spicy in my salad last night), chewy white mushrooms, dark red stalks of rhubarb, and a jar of brown pear butter.

There is more urgency to eat this food. The shares are going to come hard and fast every other week, instead of once a month, and many of the greens spoil if not eaten in a few days to a week.

We've already made a small dent with a big salad last night and sliced mushrooms, radishes, hearts of palm, and goat cheese. The night before, Ryan tested one of the recipes included in the CSA newsletter.

Spring Linguine

1/2# asparagus – prepared and cut into 1 inch pieces
1/2 # mushrooms, sliced
2-3 stalks of green garlic, sliced
Handful of spinach
1 pd. Linguine pasta
Salt and pepper, chives, parmesan cheese (we subbed asiago cheese)

Boil water and cook pasta according to directions on package
Meanwhile, sauté garlic, asparagus, and mushrooms in olive oil, until slightly tender.
Turn off heat and add spinach – season with salt and pepper
Add drained linguine (hot)
Toss well
Top with chopped chives and shredded parmesan cheese

Mexico: Las Preguntas y Las Respuestas

2008-05-11T14:40:00.081-05:00

I haven't posted for awhile, but not because I abandoned this blog or my interest in community supported agriculture. My summer share starts in June, and I can't wait to start cooking up more fresh, local produce.

My hiatus came in part because Ryan and I took a wonderfully long and interesting vacation. In April we spent two weeks in Mexico, including 10 days in Chiapas and the rest in Mexico City. Chiapas borders Guatemala and is home to many ancient Mayan ruins and villages where indigenous cultures and languages still thrive today.

"You're going where?" was the first reaction of many friends and family when I shared our plans. "Is it safe?"

The short answer is yes. Many people may associate Chiapas with the Zapatista revolution that began in 1994, the largely non-violent movement for indigenous rights that continues to this day. There have been army crackdowns, but certain areas in Chiapas openly declare themselves autonomous of the Mexican government and under Zapatista rule via billboards along the roads. As tourists we felt no danger. While we drove past a few military bases and through a half dozen checkpoints manned by armed police, no one ever stopped or searched our car. To be honest I was way more nervous about driving than I was about encountering political violence!

Since I've gotten a lot of the same questions about the trip, I decided to post some of the most commonly asked Qs.

Q: Where did you go?
A: We flew into Mexico City and Tuxtla Gutierrez, and spent our first night in the mountain city of San Cristobal de las Casas. From there, we rented a car for six days with overnight stops in Ocosingo (pictured), Palenque, and Lacanja Chansayab for 2 nights before circling back for another night in Palenque and four more in San Cristobal. We spent our last four days in Mexico City.

Q: You drove? Are you crazy?
A: Yes and yes. It was terrifying at first. The roads are curvy and steep. They have two lanes, no shoulders, and loads of tour buses, combis, and smelly trucks. You didn't want to get stuck behind these trucks, but the only way around them was to pass in the oncoming lane. We soon got used to certain "rules" of the road. For example, if the car in front of you wanted to let you pass, the driver turned on the left turn signal, leaving you a few precious moments to zoom by before the next blind curve. Sometimes a car would pass a line of traffic so brazenly that my stomach would drop in anticipation of a spectacular crash with a car speeding from the other direction. This never actually happened, but we saw a few accidents after the fact.

Many villages also had several unmarked topes, or speed bumps, to slow down vehicles as they drove through the towns. Even though we almost bottomed out the car a few times, the topes seemed like a good idea to me. Men, women, children, dogs, chickens, roosters, cows, and goats all share the road, so the topes made it safer for them (one of my favorite scenes was driving past a dozen goats wearing face masks and marching single file down a road). Sometimes a group of villagers, usually children, would raise a rope across the road when they saw us coming. As we slowed down, the children would run to the car with bunches of bananas, boiled chestnuts, or other local treats, demanding a few pesos for them. The children were quite aggressive, and occasionally effective, with their sales tactics. They wouldn't take no for an answer.

Driving also gave us more flexibility and afforded us some interesting glimpses into village life. We saw women in embroidered blouses haul babies, lumber, food, and other goods in patterned slings; men wearing ranchero hats and clutching machetes disappear into dense forest; and uniformed school children playing with friends. There was never a dull view of the lush, green mountains, which often drifted in and out of cloud forests. Ryan might disagree but one of my favorite driving moments occurred when we tried to pop in a cd of Mexican guitar music from Palenque but found a disc already in there - of Madonna's greatest hits! (In fact, I know Ryan would disagree.)

Q: What did you see?
A: Trying to keep this short here, so I'll stick to a few highlights.

We visited several Mayan ruins in Chiapas, including Tonina, Bonampak, and Palenque, but I was most taken with the remote ruins of Yaxchilan (pictured). We had to hire a boat to take us up the Usumacinta River, which has crocodiles on one side and Guatemala on the other. We arrived to a rickety dock and hard-to-climb staircase that led up to the ticket office. The entrance was down a path and through a tunnel built hundreds of years ago in one of the ancient buildings. When we emerged from the otherside, we found a sprawling field with some of the tallest trees I have ever seen. To get to some of the temples, we hiked on paths through the jungle to the sounds of howler monkeys and singing birds. Definitely a lot of atmosphere! In Mexico City, we also visited the Aztec ruins of Tenochtitlan, which were only discovered in the middle of the city about 30 years ago. We also went to Teotihuacan, about an 1.5 hour busride outside of the city. No one really knows who lived there but they sure built some tall temples.

Chiapas has numerous indigenous villages where different languages are spoken, including Tzotzil, Tzeltal, and Chol, to name a few. Clothing is one of the features that distinguishes the different villages, as each place has its own distinct embroidery and clothing style. Lacanja Chansayab, for example, is home to some of the last 600 or so Lancandon Indians who wear long, loose tunics that look like nightgowns (pictured). This was a fascinating area to visit, as the Lacandon were virtually isolated from civilization until the middle of the last century. In recent decades the government has deforested about 80 percent of their land for cattle ranching and built paved roads that made their villages more accessible to the outside world. The campomento where we stayed was part of a growing eco-tourism movement in Chiapas. Adjoining the property was a nature walk with signage that pointed out the indigenous flora and fauna as well as a milpa, which was the traditional place where corn, beans, and squash were cultivated.

Animals are plentiful in Chiapas, and many can be found on or near the roads. On the way to Ocosingo, we stopped to find a bathroom. Ryan wandered off and returned about 20 minutes later to bring me back to the store he had found, through the owner's house (a big room with several family members gathered around), up a muddy path, past some chickens, to a cage. Inside the cage was a tejon, which is like a cross between an anteater and a raccoon, trying to claw his way out. When we went back through the house, they showed us shoebox with a few little baby tejons that were smaller than the palm of my hand! We also came across this rooster at Tonina. Can you guess who is imitating the rooster?

Q: Where did you stay?
A: We mostly stayed in budget friendly hotels, cabanas, and for one night only, a hilariously small tree house. In San Cristobal, we couldn't get enough of the Posada Morales, a lovely hotel set in a hillside full of exotic plants and flowers with bungalow-like rooms that overlooked the city.

Another beautiful spot was our cabana at the Campomento Rio Lacanja in Lacanja Chansayab. We'd lounge on the hammock on the porch that opened up to the pristine Rio Lacanja.

Q: What did you eat?
A: Lots of Mexican food - at restaurants, in hotels, at roadside establishments, from street vendors, on boats.... We ate quesadillas, tacos, enchiladas, or tostadas with meat, shredded lettuce, and tomato, and all came with beans and tortillas (pictured is a woman from Zinacanton making tortillas with a traditional wood press). One of my favorite dishes was Sopa Azteca, a spicy soup that includes avocado, cheese, and fried tortilla strips. I also became addicted to eating huevos a la mexicana (eggs with tomatoes, onions, and jalapeno peppers) for breakfast because the meal gave me the hours of energy I needed to walk up all those stairs at the ruins.

Our visits to the ruins included some interesting food-related experiences. While walking to Palenque, a young man asked us if we wanted champignones (mushrooms). We declined but noticed a few individuals who probably took him up on his offer. We practically ate a full meal at Tonina, where our guide pointed out several edible plants, such as chile peppers and coffee, growing amidst the ancient stone structures.

Speaking of coffee, we had high hopes for some good brew because Chiapas has numerous fincas (coffee plantations) and a growing Fair Trade movement. On our very first morning we stumbled down to the hotel restaurant and ordered cafe con leche, but what arrived was watery Nescafe. Except for a few specialty cafes in San Cristobal, it was Nescafe or nothing. We suspected that they don't drink their own coffee because it costs more to buy Fair Trade, but we don't know for sure. I never got used to it but our New Zealand friend Kiri dealt with the bad coffee by pretending it was herbal tea.

We met Kiri and and her husband, Guy, through the Lonely Planet message boards while trying to find a Passover seder in San Cristobal. They responded and we each arranged to bring certain items for the seder plate. We procured a shankbone in Palenque from a baffled but cooperative owner of a carniceria, and some speckled eggs and greens from a market in Ocosingo. Kiri and Guy made charoset and brought wasabi instead of maror and tortillas for matzo. It was an interesting and long night. Our seder lasted five hours, not because we got so caught up in the Hagaddah but our restaurant was out of some of the food we ordered, so they went to the store, fired up the stove, and finally brought out the food at about 11pm.

Q: Did you get sick?
A: Moctezuma was the Aztec ruler who welcomed the Spanish conqueror Hernan Cortes into the city of Tenochtitlan out of fear that he was an important god. This ultimately led to the ruler's demise, the downfall of the powerful Aztec empire, and the beginning of the Spanish conquest throughout the country.

So it's not surprising that Moctezuma's Revenge is the name given to that horribly unpleasant condition that sometimes afflicts travelers in Mexico.

The guidebooks all warn not to drink tap water, ice, produce, fruit, or street food. Except for tap water, I have to admit that we drank and ate everything from the start, and I felt perfectly fine throughout the trip. But on our last day we went to Xochimilco, the only remaining canals left from when Mexico City was a swampy lake hundreds of years ago. Here you can rent a boat and buy food, drinks, and a few songs from a mariachi band on the water. I suspect the squash blossom quesadilla led to my own downfall on our last night.

Q: Did you get engaged?
A: No, but on a visit to Zinacanton, a village outside of San Cristobal, we tried on the traditional wedding outfits, and one thing led to another and....

Just kidding!

Fish Out of Water

2008-03-13T14:08:00.008-05:00

My winter CSA share ended in February, so I am biding my time until the summer share starts in June.

I would probably make the same thing over and over again if my boyfriend wasn't on such a fish kick.

Aside from tuna from the can, I have never gotten into fish. But omega 3s are all the rage and I am trying to be a more adventurous eater, so I've been giving it a try.

My boyfriend has been on a mission to find red bean ice cream after our last few sushi outings came up empty. The other night he went to an Asian supermarket and came back with something red alright (hint: it had a head).

It also looked a little too straight out of the water for my taste, but I swallowed and gamely looked for a recipe for red snapper.

I can't find the one we ultimately used at the moment, but it included lemon, lime, chopped garlic, salt, and pepper. It was so simple. We wrapped up the little guy (or girl?) in tin foil and baked at 350 for, well, I can't remember how long. But I'll look for the recipe and post when I find it.

Cute, huh?!

Despite starting out with a very fishy smell, the fish tasted good - very tender and with mild flavor, and some red bean ice cream to wash it all down.

Eating local

2008-02-28T10:52:00.011-06:00

I ate a perfectly cooked chicken last night.

The meat was white and juicy and so tender that it practically melted away as I sliced through with a knife. Big props go to my boyfriend, who cooked the chicken with radishes and small potatoes from my stash. He also sauteed spinach with garlic, creating a deliciously wholesome but simple meal.

While he was slaving away in the kitchen, I called a friend who moved to Singapore last summer using Skype, the free Internet phone service. It was my first Skype experience, and it blew my mind.

Here I was talking to my friend who is thousands of miles away for free. And I could see her! She had a video camera and showed me the view from their apartment.

It was 14 hours ahead, so while we were cooking dinner, she was (I assume) done with breakfast. It was already tomorrow there. It was like I could see into the future!

Anyways.

When they moved to Singapore, they started (and inspired me to start) a blog about their culinary adventures. Their blog is aptly named after durian, a famously odorous fruit found in Southeast Asia that, according to them, tastes like "hot garbage." Check out their blog for more impressions and insights about life and food in Singapore. I miss you guys!

As I chowed down on my very American meal of chicken, potatoes, and spinach last night, I realized how my foray into exploring new food and recipes does not compare in the slightest to what they are learning and tasting.

While I always recognized that a big part of moving or traveling to a new country means trying different foods, I now see how doing that follows one of the basic principles of CSAs - eating local.

But I think I'm relieved glad that there's no risk of durian showing up in my next CSA box.

A rare event

2008-02-23T11:51:00.008-06:00

Did anyone see the lunar eclipse the other night?

We had clear skies in Chicago when a dark, cloudy layer started to creep over the moon. As I drove to a restaurant, I saw lots of people on the streets craning their necks to get a look. It was a rare event that won't happen again until 2010.

The eclipse occurred the night after I returned from a long weekend ski trip with some of my closest girlfriends. When we first started going on the trip 7 years ago, we all lived in Chicago. Slowly through the years, almost everyone has left except one friend, who is moving overseas this summer. The weekend definitely took on a new meaning this year since we don't get to see each other very often.

But this was our fifth trip together, and we have established certain traditions over the years - many that involve food.

We are pretty healthy eaters, but we always go crazy on the junk food. It might have something to do with the altitude or the fact that we burn through so much energy on the mountain (or most likely that we give ourselves permission to live it up during this trip), but we typically stop at a gas station near the airport and load up on bags of chips and other crap for the two-hour drive. After a day on the slopes, it's all about beer and cheesy nachos (this year, we added a car bomb shot and two slices of pizza with a beer for $5 to the mix, but that's another story).

Every morning we eat a huge breakfast to fuel up for a day on the mountain. This is one of my favorite parts of the trip. We mix up to three cereals with fruit, toast bagels, hard boil eggs, and drink oj and coffee. This year one of my friends made a tofu scramble with some veggie sausage. While I love breakfast and know how important it is not to miss, I typically don't eat more than a banana and have a cup of coffee, so I savor these meals.

We also started a non-politically correct tradition that we like to call White Trash Dinner. It involves a crusty mac and cheese casserole made with Velveeta and our own version of pigs in a blanket (tofu pups wrapped in crescent rolls). My friend closely guards the casserole recipe, but the tofu pups are easy to make and served with bbq sauce and mustard dips.

The best part about these big meals is sitting around the table and catching up with each other. Since we don't all live in the same city anymore, its during these moments that we truly reconnect.

It's sad that this trip has become that rare event for us to see each other, but I feel confident that we will reunite before the next lunar eclipse!

Spicing it up

2008-02-06T22:27:00.000-06:00

Over the past few weeks, we've had a major weather event almost every day here in Chicago - from sub-zero temps to 50 degrees and back again to crazy wind, a thunderstorm that turned into sleet and snow, to blizzard conditions. My office, along with many others in and around the city, even closed early today.

It has reached that depressing point in winter where we've been through a lot but there is so much more to go.

That's sort of how I feel about those potatoes in my cupboard. I've been through so many of them but there are so many more still left.

Okay, I promised myself no more posts about potatoes.

But it raises a reality of subscribing to a CSA. You get what you get. It's winter, so I got a lot of root vegetables. I have to admit that it got a little old after awhile. The more stews and soups that I made with the same ingredients, the less interested I got. Unfortunately my list of rotting food is a little longer than usual this month.

A few weeks ago I took a cooking class with my boyfriend. We made some great dishes, including a moroccan chickpea stew over quinoa. What I liked about it is that the recipe calls for some items from my CSA (carrots and onions) but also for spices that I don't typically use, like cinnamon, turmeric, and cayenne.

After the class I paid a visit to The Spice House, a local store that sells spices from all over the world in bulk. This place is great. You can smell and taste any spice, and buy amounts as small as a 1-ounce sample, if you want to try one out without commiting to a whole jar. It's an inexpensive way to experiment with different flavors (thanks, Klein, for the suggestion!).

I made the stew tonight. It's hard to tell in the photo, but it's resting on a delicious mound of quinoa, which just might be the new couscous for me. The colors and the new flavors even helped lift me out of the winter doldrums.

Moroccan Chickpea Stew [from Rice and Spice by Robin Robertson]

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1 zucchini, diced (I subbed broccoli, which soaked up the flavor really well)
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1 16-ounce can diced tomatoes
2 cups vegetable stock or water
Salt, to taste
1/2 cup dried apricots
1/4 cup raisins
Zest of 1 lemon
2 1/2 cups cooked or canned chickpeas, rinsed if canned
2 tablespoons minced fresh cilantro or parsley
6 cups hot cooked couscous or rice (or quinoa)

Heat the oil in a large saucepan over medium heat until hot. Add the onion and carrot and cook, covered, for 5 minutes, or until softened. Add the zucchini, garlic, cinnamon, turmeric, salt, cayenne, tomatoes, stock or water, and salt to taste. Reduce the heat to low, and simmer for 25 minutes.

Meanwhile, soak the apricots in hot water for 20 minutes, then drain and finely chop. Add the apricots, raisins, lemon zest, and chickpeas to the vegetable mixture and cook 5 minutes longer, or until hot and the flavors are blended. Stir in the cilantro or parsley and serve over couscous or rice (or quinoa).

Serves 4-6.

Puzzled No More

2008-01-31T09:05:00.001-06:00

My devoted readers (all three of you!) may remember my post about Thanksgiving and pumpkin pie and a reference to a puzzle that my boyfriend and I have been working on at his sister's house.

A 3,000-piece puzzle that we've been working on for over a year.

While I spent countless hours hovered over the puzzle, I probably placed less than 100 pieces. It was incredibly difficult as many of the pieces not only looked the same, but some had the same shapes. In fact the last two pieces didn't fit because the two right pieces were in the wrong place! Luckily my boyfriend's sister was a whiz at finding the wrong pieces.

Anyways, we finally finished it the other night.

Starch City

2008-01-20T12:39:00.001-06:00

I love french fries. Nothing says brunch more than an omelet with some hash browns. I'll eat potatoes mashed, sweet, roasted, or baked. Au gratin, boiled, seasoned, or in chips. You name it.

But I am maxed out. Despite weeks of making them, my cupboard overfloweth with potatoes.

On Thursday, I received my third and final winter share. It came with tons of potatoes: Austrian crescent fingerling potatoes, red and yellow flesh potatoes, and a mixed fingerling potato medley (which included Austrian crescent, baby blue, red thumb, AND Russian banana fingerling potatoes).

That's in addition to the potatoes that I still have left over from last month (sweet potatoes, and more red, white, and purple ones).

Potatoes are highly nutritious and tasty, but that doesn't mean I want to eat them every day. But I think I will have to if I hope to clear out my pantry by summer.

So if you have any good potato recipes, please, please, please send them my way.

Dueling Pizzas

2008-01-16T12:48:00.000-06:00

My boss gave me a recipe for pizza dough, so I thought I'd try it out.

In anticipation I invited a friend over for dinner.

Since the dough takes several hours to rise, chill, and then thaw, I wanted to do part of this ahead of time. My first attempt failed miserably. The dough never rose.

After consulting with my boss and my mom (who makes bread all the time), they advised me to put the dough in a warmer place. The next night I mixed everything up and put the batch on top of my radiator for a few hours. It seemed to do the trick, but unsure of how it should look and might taste, I asked my friend to buy some back up dough at the store.

When she arrived, we decided to make both pizzas because we were hungry and we wanted to see how they would compare to each other.

As we heated up her pizza stone in the oven, we sauted sweet potatoes and onions, spread them over the homemade crust, and covered with rosemary, sage, garlic, crushed red pepper, and mozzarella and parmesan cheese.

Since the stone was so hot, it only took about 12 minutes before it was done. Here's how it turned out. Free to sing along or hit mute.

As the homemade crust cooked, we prepared the store bought dough with the same ingredients, plus a few heads of broccoli left over from some pre-dinner snacking.

Oddly it took on the shape of the state of Massachusetts (without Cape Cod).

Ten minutes later, we were ready for the taste test.

The homemade pizza looked the part. Imperfectly round, the pizza looked straight out of a wood-burning oven set in snow covered mountains.

The pizza had lots of flavor, especially garlic and cheese. In fact, I think we over-cheesed. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. The crust, made with whole wheat flour, was chewy with a hint of honey. The taste was natural and unprocessed.

Aside from its likeness to the Commonwealth, the store bought pizza had a more polished, professional look. The dough was like a fluffy pillow with a sweet taste.

The flavor in the rest of the pizza was more subtle. The ingredients seemed more evenly distributed with fewer concentrations of garlic and crushed red pepper flakes.

To sum up, they were both winners.

And so were we, since we got to eat them.

Pizza Dough [from my boss]

Put 1/2 cup warm water, 1 tablespoon honey, and 1 teaspoon yeast into a small bowl or cup and mix. Let sit for approximately 10 minutes.

In a separate bigger bowl, add:
1 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 teaspoon coarse (kosher) salt
1 1/2 tablespoon olive oil

Pour yeasty water into mix, knead with hands or mixer, cover, and let rise for 1/2 hour or longer. Refrigerate dough, still covered, for about 2 hours

An hour before you're ready to eat, remove dough and let stand in room temp for about 1 hour
It is ready to be flattened, topped, cooked (at 450-degree oven) and eaten.

*Potato, Sage, and Rosemary Pizza [from epicurious.com]

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
12 ounces unpeeled small Yukon Gold potatoes, sliced into very thin rounds
1 (13.8-ounce) tube refrigerated pizza dough (or homemade)
2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary
2 teaspoons chopped fresh sage
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1/4 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
1 cup (packed) grated whole-milk mozzarella cheese (about 4 ounces)
1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 400°F. Heat oil in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Add potato slices in single layer. Sauté until just tender, about 5 minutes. Cool briefly. Unroll dough on rimmed baking sheet. Scatter potato slices over dough, leaving 3/4-inch plain border. Sprinkle with rosemary, sage, garlic, and crushed red pepper. Sprinkle with cheeses to cover. Bake pizza until crust is crisp and cheeses melt, about 20 minutes. Using metal spatula, loosen crust from sheet. Slide out onto platter or board and serve.

*Variations: We preheated oven to 450 degrees for almost an hour with the pizza stone inside. It was so hot the pizzas cooked in 10-12 minutes. We also subbed sweet potatoes for the Yukons and added onions and broccoli.

The Price of Sugar

2008-01-14T22:27:00.000-06:00

The other night I saw a disturbing documentary called The Price of Sugar.

The film examined human rights violations of Haitian immigrants at a sugar cane plantation in the Dominican Republic and followed a Catholic priest's quest to improve their lives. It described how sugar companies smuggle Haitians across the border, strip them of identification papers, and essentially turn them into slaves. Literally they live in deplorable conditions under armed guard and barbed wire. With no papers, they can't leave without facing arrest. Without proper food and healthcare, many live, work, and die on the plantations.

In addition to addressing several issues related to immigration and Dominican nationalism, the movie points out, without going into enough detail, that the United States has lucrative trade agreements with the sugar companies.

Since I joined a CSA, I've been thinking about food differently. For the most part I am more conscious of where the food comes from and how far it travels to get to me. I'm trying to buy and eat more food that was grown in an environmentally friendly way.

But there are only so many kinds of crops grown in the midwest or in this country, for that matter. This film reminds us that some of our favorite foods, like sugar and coffee, are grown elsewhere in the world and often have a human cost.

One way for American consumers can strike back at these sugar companies is to buy fair trade items. I admit that I have never felt that compelled to do so. It always seemed like this abstract concept. But after seeing this movie the last thing I want is for these sugar companies to profit off of me.

I won't pretend to cut sugar from my diet. I love ice cream too much. But greater awareness can go a long way at the grocery store when I am making decisions about what to buy.

All I need is patience

2008-01-09T10:40:00.000-06:00

Risotto takes patience.

You need to add broth, let the rice absorb the liquid, and repeat several times until the rice is tender. This requires much standing by the stove and vigilant stirring (note cool action shot below!).

We made pumpkin walnut risotto last night while listening to the New Hampshire primary coverage on the radio, with frequent runs into another room to check the online results.

After we combined ingredients and began to stir, it became increasingly clear that the candidate we both support was not going to win, despite several polls which had predicted the contrary (hint: his initials are B.O.).

We both thought his nomination was inevitable, but now we have a race that may not be decided for weeks.

On one hand, this is good because it gives more voters the chance to have a say. On the other hand, this makes me anxious. Like many Americans (and most of us who live on this planet) I am hopeful and excited that we're about to replace a terrible president, but I also worry about the potential outcomes of this election.

Like in cooking, where the slightest recipe variation can affect the taste of the entire dish, the vaguest shift of perception can change minds and votes (okay, that's not the greatest analogy but work with me, people). Sometimes the resulting flavor is a happy surprise. But sometimes you wish you never substituted this ingredient for that one. You wish you could take it back.

I just hope our country doesn't feel that way when the campaign is over.

I can't wait to find out.

Pumpkin Walnut Risotto [from the 12/19 issue of the Chicago Sun-Times]

(Speaking of recipe variations, I should note that we didn't make the walnut paste, but instead added those ingredients after sauteing the onions and pumpkin. We also added a 15-ounce can of tomatoes instead of a 10-ounce can. My boyfriend thought the risotto tasted like spagettios. That may have been why.)

MAKES 4 SERVINGS
½ cup walnuts
1/3 cup packed fresh parsley, chopped
2 cloves garlic
7 tablespoons olive oil, divided
Pinch salt
1 cup onions, chopped
½ cup canned pumpkin or 1 cup pumpkin flesh, chopped
1 (10-ounce) can peeled plum tomatoes, chopped
Salt and pepper, to taste
1½ cups long grain rice
4½ cups hot chicken broth
freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Process walnuts, parsley and garlic to a paste. Add 4 tablespoons olive oil, a tablespoon at a time. Add a pinch of salt; reserve.

Heat remaining olive oil in a large heavy pan; fry onion until lightly colored. Add pumpkin; continue to saute about 4 minutes. Mix in walnut paste. Add tomatoes; mix well and simmer until thickened. Season with salt and pepper. Add rice; stir-fry for a few minutes. Add hot broth in stages, stirring to use up all the broth. Allow rice to almost dry out before each addition.
Risotto is ready when it is no longer watery and rice is tender while retaining a very slight firmness in the center of each grain. It takes 20 to 30 minutes. Mix in half the Parmesan; sprinkle the remaining half on top.

Smells like...

2008-01-06T19:36:00.000-06:00

I wasn't sure what to expect when parsnips showed up in my December delivery. Honestly I couldn't recall ever eating one.

But they looked like white carrots, so how bad could they be?

I diligently searched for recipes and found an interesting one called Parsnip Potato Curry. But it called for lots of spices that I don't have, and while this would have been a good excuse to round out my spice rack, I've been less than motivated to make potatoes lately.

So with those parsnips guilt tripping me everytime I opened my refrigerator, I finally did something about them tonight.

I found an easy recipe called Parsnip Puree that called for parsnips (check), butter (check), chicken broth (check), and sea salt and pepper (check and check).

I peeled and cut them into 1/2 inch pieces.

That's when I first noticed the smell. It was hard to place, so I proceeded to boil them for about 35 minutes until tender.

Then I scooped about half the parsnips into the blender, added some butter and chicken stock, and pressed the puree button.

The stuff on the bottom moved but the 'nips on top hadn't budged. I opened the blender to mix them up a bit.

That's when the smell of vomit hit me.

But something about the butter and chicken stock neutralized the odor enough for me to press on. I also opened a window and turned on the fan.

By the time I finished, I had a mashed potato-like mixture that actually looked like vomit.

While it still kinda smells, I am taking little bites as I write this post and wishing I tried that other recipe instead. But alas, I used them all up tonight.

I don't want to be a hater, but I hope no parsnips show up in my January delivery.

Off the Wagon

2007-12-31T10:05:00.000-06:00

I haven't felt like cooking much in the last two weeks.

Maybe it's the holidays. Or that I've eaten more potatoes in the last month and a half than I thought possible.

Instead I've been snacking on the vegetables of summer, ordering takeout, and eating my way through holiday gatherings and sugary sweets at work.

But now that I've had some time off from the kitchen, I am gearing up to get back to it after the new year. I have some recipes waiting in the wings, like parsnip potato curry and pumpkin walnut risotto.

I do want to give a shout out to the popcorn again, though. With minimal prep required, this is the perfect snack. I finally figured out how to make popcorn in my pot without it burning or flying across my kitchen (keep the lid on, shake every few seconds, and remove from heat while you still hear popping). I popped two cobs of it last night while I watched my favorite movie The Sound of Music. And yes, popcorn is one of my favorite things.

Happy new year!

Transformation

2007-12-23T20:43:00.000-06:00

Last night we popped some popcorn, fresh off the cob. There's no story to tell. Just some pictures of the three different stages of popping corn.

In three different bowls.

Punctuation

2007-12-23T20:22:00.000-06:00

I wanted to eat the acorn squash right away to avoid a repeat of the unfortunate rotting incident from last month.

On Friday night, I made acorn squash with chile vinaigrette, a very simple recipe that turned out quite well. I have to admit that we unknowingly made some variations because we failed to realize at first that the recipe called for two squashes (we only used one).

The recipe is below with the variations in parentheses.

The photo, artfully arranged by my boyfriend, shows the letter U inside quote marks.

It's hard to tell from the picture how good it tasted, so you'll have to try it for yourself.

Acorn Squash with Chile Vinaigrette [From epicurious.com]
2 (1 1/2 - to 1 3/4-lb) acorn squash {1 acorn squash}
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons olive oil {3 tablespoons}
1 garlic clove {2 cloves, chopped instead of minced}
1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lime juice, or to taste
1 to 2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh hot red chile, including seeds {poblano chile, no seeds}
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Put oven racks in upper and lower thirds of oven and preheat oven to 450°F. Halve squash lengthwise, then cut off and discard stem ends. Scoop out seeds and cut squash lengthwise into 3/4-inch-wide wedges. Toss squash with black pepper, 3/4 teaspoon salt, and 2 tablespoons oil in a bowl, then arrange, cut sides down, in 2 large shallow baking pans. Roast squash, switching position of pans halfway through roasting, until squash is tender and undersides of wedges are golden brown, 25 to 35 minutes.While squash roasts, mince garlic and mash to a paste with remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt. Transfer paste to a small bowl and whisk in lime juice, chile (to taste), cilantro, and remaining 1/4 cup oil until combined. Transfer squash, browned sides up, to a platter and drizzle with vinaigrette.

Cutting too much cheese

2007-12-21T08:23:00.000-06:00

It happened again.

Last night I picked up my December CSA delivery with grand plans for my meal - acorn squash with chile vinaigrette and spinach and pear salad with mustard vinaigrette dressing.

I already knew this delivery would have many of the same items as last month: sweet potatoes; red, white, and gold potatoes; yellow onions; acorn squash; carrots; apples; and popcorn. It would also contain a few new treats: parsnips, mushrooms, and cheese.

Organic raw milk cheese.

Delicious organic raw milk cheddar cheese.

I had bought some crackers in anticipation, and we had half a bottle of wine from the night before.

We started cutting ourselves little slivers of cheese and within a half hour, had polished off the entire wedge. Just like the first night of my November CSA delivery - when I made popcorn with my nephews while preparing a lavish meal that I never ate - I completely killed my appetite for the rest of the night.

My CSA had included the item to promote a new cheese share offering next summer. So in addition to the produce, I can pay extra and get some Wisconsin cheese with each delivery. While it tasted so good - as did the cheese we bought and finished during our weekend trip to Wisconsin a few weeks earlier - I realized that I would cut way too much cheese next summer. No thanks.

But back to this cheese from last night. According to the label, all the cows used to make the milk were grass fed. All I know about raw milk cheese is that it's unpasteurized and must age for at least 60 days in order to be sold legally.

That may have been why this cheese tasted so good, but I think the fact that these cows were grass fed had something to do with it too.

I've been reading a little about feedlots lately. In fact, I just finished Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma, in which he sets out to eat four different meals (fast food, organic, farm grown, and hunted/gathered) while tracing the food chain that leads up to each one.

While following his meal from McDonalds came from, he visits a feedlot in Kansas, where the cows there (and most everywhere in this country) are fed corn - a surplus crop that is subsidized by our government.

Although nature intended for cows to eat grass, the corn fattens them up, creating more meat to sell. He writes about how the corn wreaks havoc on these cows, who are so crammed together in their own waste that they must take antibiotics to minimize the spread of illness.

While I could go on and on about this book, the simple point I am trying to make is this: cows that eat what they are supposed to eat (grass) in an environment where they are supposed to eat (pasture) will produce milk that tastes better.

Okay, stepping off the soapbox now. But if you like fast food or store-bought meat, reading this book may seriously change the way you buy, eat, and think about food.

And if you ever have the opportunity to travel to Argentina, where grass-fed beef is plentiful and inexpensive (at least for now), you will see what I mean about the taste. Hands down, grass-fed beef tastes so much better. Why would the milk from grass-fed cows be any different?

Home Alone

2007-12-15T15:16:00.000-06:00

It's often a big reason that I won't cook.

If I have no one to cook with or for, I'll just scrounge in the fridge or get takeout. It's a bad habit that I've been hoping to break with the CSA.

Aside from the roasted potatoes, my boyfriend has helped prepare and eat everything so far. A few nights ago he was going to come by for some curried lentils with sweet potatoes and swiss chard but decided to go home instead when an after-work event went late.

I had already started chopping, so there was no turning back.

Plus I knew this recipe would help me use up the rest of the sweet potatoes and finish off a few remaining onions, which was basically all I had left from the November delivery.

So I was motivated but daunted by all chopping and peeling I had to do. There were onions! Garlic! Sweet potatoes! Ginger root! Chard! It was endless and already after 8 p.m. when I started.

Opening a bottle of wine helped. So did a little snack, since I wouldn't eat until about 10 p.m.

As I began to put it all together, the smell was amazing. The curry and garam masala mixed with the onions, garlic, ginger, and vegetable broth made my kitchen smell like an Indian restaurant.

I was also excited to use my new wooden spoon, which I had bought at a store that sells hand-carved wooden items in Mt. Horeb, Wisconsin (down the street from the Mustard Museum).

It tasted damn good, and I had something that never happens. Leftovers.

And the winner is...

2007-12-12T18:47:00.000-06:00

This time of year is filled with lists. Shopping lists. Wish lists. What's hot and not lists. What's in and out lists. Lists of New Year's resolutions.

I typically don't make those kinds of lists.

But I'm proud to say that with a week to go until my next CSA delivery, I'm nearly finished with my first bushel of produce. So while I wait for the next one, I thought I would put together a few lists from the past month: dishes I made, biggest lesson learned, my favorite meal, plus more completely useless information in list format. Enjoy!

What I Made/Ate
Cranberry Vinaigrette
Butternut Squash and Sweet Potato Ginger Bisque
Popcorn
Cranberry Relish
Pasta with Butternut Squash and Sage
2 Pumpkin Pies
Potato and Leek Soup
Roasted Potatoes
Sweet Potatoes
Apples and Honey
Raw Carrots
* Curried Lentils with Sweet Potatoes and Swiss Chard (possibly substituted with mustard greens)

What Didn't Make It
Acorn Squash
Parsley

Biggest Letdown: Potato and Leek Soup

Best Dish I Didn't Have to Shop for: Roasted potatoes

Most Useful Kitchen Item: Cutting board

Biggest Lesson Learned: Follow storage instructions more carefully!

1st Runner Up Favorite Dish: Popcorn

And my favorite dish was.....

Pasta with Butternut Squash and Sage (thanks for the recipe, Home Grown Wisconsin!)

[Added 12/13] At Ali's request, here's the recipe!

Pasta with Butternut Squash and Sage (serves 4)
1 medium onion, chopped
2 Tbls. olive oil
1 lb. butternut squash, peeled and cut into 2 inch pieces
¾ C. water
1 tsp. chopped fresh Sage
1 lb. penne pasta
2 Tbls. chopped fresh parsley
1 C. grated parmesan
2 Tbls. butter (optional)

Cook onion in oil in a large nonstick skillet over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until golden. Finely chop squash in food processor and add to onion with water and salt. Simmer, covered, stirring occasionally, 15 minutes, or until squash is tender. Add sage and simmer 1 minute. Cook pasta in boiling salt water until al dente. Drain. Return pasta to pot and add squash mixture, parsley, parmesan, butter and black pepper, stirring until butter is melted. Season to taste and serve with a little parmesan on top.

* I plan to make this tomorrow night, which should knock off the rest of the sweet potatoes and a few more onions. Gotta eat the onions!

R.I.P. Acorn Squash

2007-12-09T16:58:00.000-06:00

Oh, acorn squash

I never ate you.

You waited patiently on my kitchen table

shriveling up as I

made the butternut squash

made the sweet potatoes

made the pumpkins.

With guilt I looked at you

before I went out to dinner

wondering when I might slice you in half and

bake you and fill you with brown sugar and raisins and walnuts.

Instead you rotted

and I realized

that I should have

followed instructions

and put you in my cool and dry and dark pantry.

You were my first casualty.

You may not be the last.

The next box comes on Thursday

and I have lots of onions left.

Rhymes With Nasty

2007-12-03T18:58:00.001-06:00

My boyfriend and I spent a stormy weekend in Mineral Point, a quaint historic town located amidst dairy farms and cheese factories in southwestern Wisconsin.

This town has all sorts of charm.

Historically preserved sandstone buildings from the 1840s and 1850s (including our little cottage!), a thriving artist enclave, several art galleries and antique stores, and colorful locals - mainly chatty gallery owners and fun drunks.

Lest you get the impression that everyone gets smashed all the time (although our B&B was called Brewery Creek), we found a closeknit community of friends who knew each other by name and gathered in large groups over coffee each morning.

We stumbled into one of the coffee shops on Saturday morning as a big winter storm rolled in. Snow was already falling rapidly and horizontally, but we were interested in making fresh tracks. The owners recommended a short hiking trail down the street from our cottage called, no joke, the Merry Christmas Mine Hill.

This place has a proud, well-documented history as a mining town. My companion, who read Mineral Point: A History from cover to cover over the weekend, could tell you more. But as I understand it, the discovery of lead brought a number of immigrants from Cornwall, England, to settle in the area. The Cornish influenced the architecture, culture, and particularly, the food.

So after our hike, and shortly before the snow turned to hail, then sleet, then freezing rain, we wandered into the Red Rooster Cafe to get ourselves some Cornish treats - pasty and figgyhobbin.

Pasty, which rhymes with nasty - as a newspaper headline screamed from the wall of the restaurant - is basically meatloaf with rutabega and onions wrapped up tight in a pastry crust.

The miners used to take pasty for lunch. The idea, as I learned from reading the menu, was that pasty could withstand a fall in case it was accidentally dropped into the mines.

Yum.

It was actually quite good. With ketchup or chili sauce it made a nice meatloaf sandwich.

Next we ate figgyhobbin.

We had been fantasizing about figgyhobbin for days. What was figgyhobbin? And why could we not stop giggling everytime we said it?

Figgyhobbin turned out to be a sweet dessert with raisins, nuts, brown sugar, and cinnamon wrapped inside a pastry crust and bathed in caramel with whipped cream on top.

Double yum.

The town has such a strong sense of history with old buildings and photos everywhere that I almost felt transported back in time as I ate that food. I easily shy away from food that isn't familiar to me, but this meal reminded me how much you can learn about another culture or place by eating its traditional cuisine.

The next day we dug out the car and hit the road to explore the kitsch that is southwestern Wisconsin. If you don't believe me, click here to see one of the highlights.

Purple Surprise

2007-11-27T21:14:00.000-06:00

I am continually surprised by the food in my CSA bounty.

After a pumpkin and cranberry-filled Thanksgiving weekend, I realized that I was neglecting a few other items. Namely the leeks were shriveling up in my fridge and the potatoes were starting to grow sprouts. That's bad, right?

I knew this called for potato and leek soup.

The potatoes were in this dark mesh bag so it was hard to tell that they looked different. The list I had received with my share said the potatoes included reds, golds, and whites.

No one said anything about purple.

A google search revealed all sorts of names for these, including Purple Peruvian Potatoes, Blue Potatoes (huh?), Delta Blues, and Purple Majesty Potatoes. These beauties are reportedly high in antioxidants if you're into that sort of thing, but it's the color that is so...vibrant and unexpected!

Of course we soon boiled and pureed them with the other potatoes, turning the color into a lovely shade of light brown.

Which brings me back to the soup. The recipe said to puree half of it, add it back to the mix, and season with tabasco sauce and marjoram before serving.

It seriously looked like a cross between gruel, porridge, and mush.

It didn't taste much better.

I added more tabasco sauce and marjoram.

It tasted a little better.

I was full after about five bites.

The leftovers tasted better tonight.

In my experience so far, soups always taste better the next night.

But there was no purple in sight.

I really didn't intend for that to rhyme.

But I still have a few left, so maybe I will make purple mashed potatoes next time.