Oops! Feel Better Soon

When your friend/co-worker/boss/neighbor slips and gets a nasty break to her ankle, with lots of pain and a weekend of non-ambulation until she can see the orthopedic on Monday with hopes of swelling gone down enough for a cast, be a buddy and drop off some food.  The bonus for your good deed:  your household gets the other half of all the goodies you make.  These are easy to fix, probably liked by anyone, and use lots of stuff that you already have on hand:

1.  Chocolate Cake:  Use the recipe on the back of the Hershey's Cocoa box, and you'll be sure to keep half of it for yourself.
2.  Baked Beans:  Use the can(s) in your pantry split between two bakers; mix in some chopped onion, ketchup, mustard, brown sugar, and lots of Cavendar's seasoning, and bake in a slow oven.
3.  Potato Salad:  Use your favorite recipe or non-recipe.  Mine is red potatoes cooked with their jackets on, then roughly quartered while still warm and topped with olive oil, Cavendar's, and whatever kind of vinegar I have/choose; once cooled a bit, I add in 3 or so chopped hard-boiled eggs, red onion, some Dijon mustard, a bit of mayo, some dried rosemary; stir up good and top with parsley or sprinkle with paprika.
4.  Tabouli:  Pour a cup of boiling water over some bulgar wheat and a bit of salt, cover for 30 minutes.  Then add in a splah of olive oil, juice of one lemon, and some garlic powder and chill.  Later, add in tons of chopped parsley, 3 or so chopped tomatoes, and 4 or so chopped green onions.  A staple at our house, so I can make it in my sleep (you can, too, cause it's so stinkin' easy).
5.  Pork Tenderloin:  Use whatever seasoning/sauce you have around.  Yesterday I used a bottle of Pampered Chef's Honey/Maple/Mustard Sauce.  I seared 3 pork tenderloins in a touch of olive oil after I seasoned them really well with (you guessed it!) Cavendar's.  Turn them until all sides are seared, maybe 5 minutes or a bit more.  Then lower the heat, cover the skillet, and cook just until 137-140 degrees.  And if you don't have a little instant-read thermometer, shame on you!  It's the only way to be sure you don't cook your meat to death, on the one hand, or kill your family from trichonosis, on the other hand.  I took the two smaller loins out of the pan first as they reached their cooking temp before the bigger one.  Then put them all back in the pan, pour on some of the sauce, cook for just a few minutes and ladle the sauce all over.  I poured a little more sauce over the two that I took to my friend, once I put them on the serving dish.

The next day, remember that you have leftover pork tenderloin for a sandwich, and throw these things in the food processor for the best-ever cranberry relish and sandwich topper:  a bag of fresh cranberries, 1 orange with peel on cut into eighths, 1 apple the same way, some of Leslie's pecans from your freezer (oh, sorry if you don't have Leslie supplying your pecans---you know what I mean), and 1/2 to 3/4 cup of sugar.
Serve the rest of this as relish for Thanksgiving dinner, and they'll love you.

For all things be thankful, as I am for you.

Fall or Winter?

Pumpkin muffins in a snowstorm.

What the falafel?!

When Lucy and I were in Paris earlier this month (I love saying that) one of the things we wanted to do was eat falafel.  Did you know Paris has some of the best falafel?  Who knew?

We made our way to one highly touted place in Saint Germain Pres, and it was a very crowded little street place so we got in line, sorta, and tried to figure out how to order.  After 5 to 10 minutes of waiting and watching, we were still unsure about how/what to order and decided to make our way to the second place, directly across the narrow little cobblestone street.  GOOD CHOICE.

There were a total of 6 seats in this place, and 2 of those seats became free as we crossed over, so I shooed Lucy into them while I went up to order for us.  I was surprised the one girl manning the place didn't start fixing our order and started to worry that she hadn't understood me.  But, wait....

I saw her walk back to the fryer and check the temp.  Then she opened up a big kind of Tupperware container, grabbed a scoop, and proceeded to make our falafels---fresh.  She scooped up the batter for 8 falafels and dropped them in the fryer.  While they were cooking, she opened up another container, took out a couple of large pitas, and ran them through a toaster/griller thingy.  My mouth started watering.

When our little falafel balls were cooked to a beautiful brown-ness, she plucked them out of the fryer, drained them, and plopped them into our pitas which had been coned and wrapped in paper.  Then she handed them to me and motioned to the two full rows of toppings and condiments I could choose from to customize our sandwiches to perfection.  I wish I could tell you what all we chose---heck, I wish I knew what half of the stuff was.  It was all delicious, and my favorites were some kind of pickled cabbage and the tzatziki.

Was it messy?  Way.  Was it the best falafel I ever ate?  Definitely.  Is that girl drinking cafe creme on a Paris sidewalk the coolest kid ever?  You bet.

Cupcakes On a Train

This afternoon I took the train to Manhattan, and proceeded to do practically nothing.  It was glorious.

I did a few things, but nothing that really counts.  I shoe-shopped the East side, to no avail---but that was ok, as I didn't know exactly what I was looking for anyway.  In between shoe stores, I made a few stops to monitor the Razorbacks' too-close-for-comfort win over much-reviled Ole Miss.  Leslie was keeping me up to date, and she thought I was probably the only person in Bryant Park following the Hogs!

Then I walked over to the West side to grab a burger at Angus McIndoe's---which I forgot to take a picture of, no doubt because of the vodka I sucked down while waiting for the food to arrive.  It was good, but about half my fries were too over-cooked to eat; bummer.  But the vodka was spot on.

I took the crosstown bus back to Grand Central, grabbed a pumpkin spice latte, and stopped at Magnolia Bakery for cupcakes to take home for Lucy and me, and for Rosa the landlady and her family.
Now I'm back home in time to watch the Cardinals beat the Rangers in Game 3 of the World Series.

Like I said, it was glorious.

Balsamic Body Heat

Women of a certain age, like me, have fond memories of the 1981 movie, Body Heat.  Maybe  it's because William Hurt was so uh, cute, at that age.  Or maybe it's because at the end of the movie, his poor pitiful self is in jail and Kathleen Turner is on a beach being all rich and left alone.  How often does it turn out that the girl gets the better deal?  But I digress.  In this movie, he becomes so totally obsessed with her that he loses all sense and acts in ways that are extremely dangerous and contrary to his nature.

If I am William Hurt, figs with gorgonzola and balsamic are my Kathleen Turner.

My haircut guy told me about these a couple of years ago in October.  He said it was too late to get fresh figs, but I was already obsessed before having one taste,  so I left the salon and went immediately in search of figs---and found them at the first place I stopped; see, fate has already intervened here.

He had told me that two to three of these make a lovely appetizer.  That would be one or one-and-a-half figs per serving.  The fresh Black Mission figs come 27 to a box, so one box makes 18 appetizer servings, according to normal people.  Remember how I said William Hurt got about Kathleen Turner?  Well, I fixed half the box (9 servings) and ate them all except for the reasonable few that Lucy nibbled.  Then the next day I did the same thing, only Lucy wasn't home so I ate all 9 of that day's servings myself.  And I knew it was wrong.  Just like William Hurt knew it was wrong to kill Richard Crenna.  But. I. Didn't. Care.

Some of Leslie's good pecans and a glass of wine make the perfect accompaniments.

Figs with Gorgonzola and Balsamic

Cut fresh, ripe figs in half lengthwise.

Use your Pampered Chef Small Scoop (or a spoon) to scoop out just enough fig flesh to make a small indentation.  Put crumbled gorgonzola cheese in the indentation--I stuff as much as I can and kind of let it ooch out the top.

Put the filled figs on a broiler-safe pan (don't use your P Chef stoneware under the broiler; I use my P Chef metal baking pan) and pop them under the broiler for a couple of minutes, just until the cheese gets nice and melty.  When you take them out of the broiler, splash each with just a teeny-tiny bit of balsamic vinegar.

Fresh figs are in season right now.  Go ahead.  Get all obsessed and Body Heat about these.  You know you want to.

Ready, Set, Go

As happens every week about this time, tomorrow starts a new work/school week.  In my life, those weeks roll much better if I have taken a little time over the weekend (exactly 90 minutes today, in fact) to prep some food to get us through a few of the upcoming days.  We have a bit of a leg-up with these basics ready to go.

Cukes 'n onions, salt, pepper, white balsamic vinegar.  Done.

Chickpea salad with tomato, onion, olives, feta cheese, parsley, cucumber, Cavendar's Greek seasoning, red wine vinegar, and a tiny pour of olive oil.  I cooked the chickpeas from dried last night while I watched football--Go HOGS!--and have more in the fridge.  This salad goes great as a dinner side, or popped into a pita for lunch, sometimes with whatever other leftovers are around.

Vegetable soup.

Roasted vegetables for Lucy's Tofurkey lunch sandwiches.

Balsamic roasted onions for....anything and everything.  I think this week I want them on top of some mashed tomatoes or creamy polenta.

Here are a few other staples waiting in the fridge to make our lives easier during the week.

Cook's treat for all this productivity?  I got to rub a hunk of a fresh baguette in the unctuousness of the balsamic/olive oil/onion goodness left in my Pampered Chef bar pan.  I'm not sure, but I think my eyes rolled back in my head after I ate that bread.

Have a happy week!

Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh---I don't wanna

Do you ever have those days when you just can't do it?  Can't muster the brain cells to plan a meal.  Can't find the energy to actually prepare and "cook" something.  At my house it sounds something like this:  "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh, I just can't do it tonight."

What do you eat when that happens?  Here are our can't-cook-tonight-go-to's.

1.  Nachos

I have been known to eat nachos two or three times a week.  I read an article in the Arkansas Times that reported on an actual survey, showing that people in Arkansas prefer their nachos "neat."  That is, each triangle of corn chip has one slice of cheese on it, and most often one slice of jalapeno pepper on top of that---instead of "messy" nachos where the chips are mounded and then everything is piled on and mixed up.  I fit right in with the Arkansas crowd mostly, but sometimes I like to shake it up.  I love my sister's method of having a separate Pampered Chef small round stone for each person, and all kinds of toppings---black beans, salmon, onions, cheeses, salsa, sour cream, guac.  Every person makes their own plate, pops the stoneware into the microwave oven, and drools until the bell rings.  Yum.

2.  Eggs

Lucy and I are big egg eaters.  We love our weekend breakfasts more than anything, and occasionally we just need the ease and comfort of breakfast for dinner.  Fried, scrambled, omelets, frittata...we love them all.  Throw in our special breakfast potatoes, and you'll want eggs Monday through Friday night.

3.  Brown Rice/Quinoa/Orzo and Roasted Veg

The best eating weeks are those when I've used the weekend to prep a lot of staples that form the basis of several meals during the week.  Taking the time to fix a stash of things like hard boiled eggs, roasted vegs, and some whole grains makes those "waaaaaaaaaahhh" nights a minor inconvenience, rather than a major catastrophe.  All I have to do is grab some kind of already-cooked grain out of the fridge and top it with some already-roasted vegetables (or, in a pinch, some vegetables out of the freezer), grate on some grana padana and maybe add some quick and easy delicious bruschetta (I'll show you my own technique soon) and a rough day has turned into a happy evening.  

I wonder what you eat on those days.

The Holy Grail of Balsamic

Long, long ago....
I remember way back in the 80's, reading about balsamic vinegar and wondering what the heck those Silver Palate girls Julie Rosso and Sheila Lukens were talking about, splashing vinegar on strawberries.  Were they crazy?  At some point I hopped on the balsamic bandwagon, with no going back.  Its tart yet rich kind of ooziness makes practically anything just taste better.  Talk about a flavor bump.  I even love white balsamic for my old-time onion and cucumber mix that I keep in the fridge pretty much all summer.

Speaking of making anything taste better....these balsamic onions are absolutely delicious on a burger, grilled/broiled flank or any kind of steak, creamy polenta, and even just on some french bread for a lazy woman's supper.  Hop on the balsamc bandwagon tonight.

Balsamic Onions

Slice two or three red onions in half, then into 1/4 inch rings.   Throw them on your Pampered Chef bar pan with 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar, then a good pour of olive oil. Sprinkle with Kosher salt and black pepper.  Roast at 425 degrees for about 20 minutes or until all soft and glistening, and maybe until a few rings start to have a tiny bit of char on them.  Add a few more splashes of balsamic, and serve.  A new addiction.

Your balsamic back-to-school bonus is a picture of Lucy getting ready for the first day of 11th grade.  I think that look of scorn on her face is for my picture-taking, although it could have been for the whole idea of going back to school yesterday.

Celebrating My Sister on September 6

Are a lot of your childhood memories food-related, or is that just my family?  As far back as I can remember, we've always been pretty foodcentric:  what are we going to eat, who's going to fix what, how are you going to cook that, remember how Grandma used to make it, do you like to eat it this way or that way, what goes good with that, when can we eat, remember when we ate that at (somewhere, anywhere), won't that make great leftovers, do you like the whatever better at this restaurant or that one, blah, blah, blah----it's all about the food.   Because we grew up on a farm, we raised a good amount of our own food, including beef and pork.  Not to mention that on a farm, food is actually the fuel that keeps things going so it's serious business by default.  There was also a bit of wild-game stuff going on, so that may have added to some lifelong food fetishes.

Today is my sister's birthday.  I love saying, "my sister."  Maybe it's because I'm the only person left in this world who can say those words and have it mean Melissa Lynne.

Since we come from the same family, a lot of her memories are also food-related.  Here are two, shared only for illustrative purposes to show how nice she is now, compared to how stinkin' mean she was when we were little.  You think I'm kidding?  Just ask our boy-cousin Dickie, who used to end up crying whenever she was around cause she was so stinkin' mean.  We have a picture somewhere of the two of them at about 2 years of age, with poor Dick crying and Melissa looking triumphant with a "that'll show you to mess with me" look on her face.  Hmmmm....I've definitely seen that face recently, now that I think of it.

Memory #1:  I was a (sweet, precious) toddler asking (Melissa says whining incessently) for a bite of the hot peppers that everyone else at the table was eating.  So what did my mean big sister who was definitely old enough to know better (did I mention that she's my MUCH older sister?!) do?  She stuck a hot pepper in my sweet little baby mouth.  Hey, did you see that woman on the news last week who had to go to court because she used hot pepper sauce to discipline her kid?  I REST MY CASE.  Rather than go to court, Sister had to eat her supper out on the back steps with the dogs...likely a more effective deterrent.

Memory #2:  Sweet Nancy, our middle sister (truth moment:  she really was sweet, whereas I was a spoiled brat) was just little and quite susceptible to suggestions from the big sister.  They each had a candy bar, but was mean Melissa satisfied?  Noooooo, she wanted her candy bar and poor little Nancy's, too.  (Just look at them in the photo above and tell me which one gets your sympathy--do you think maybe she's pinching Nancy while pretending to hold her hand?)  But Melissa knew poor baby Nancy would cry and tattle on her if she stole her candy bar outright, so she instead manipulated the poor girl mercilessly by saying, "Nancy, I don't like this nasty old candy bar.  It's so awful, I'm gonna throw mine away.  Don't you want me to throw yours away, too?"  Like a lamb to the slaughter.

In celebration of my beloved sister's birthday, her always looking out for me,  and some of our shared food memories.

 Melissa.  My sister.  Happy Birthday!

"Put some South in your mouth"

Fresh corn.  Fresh basil.  Butter.  Salt. Pepper.  What's not to like?

I used to make this New Southern Fried Corn recipe sometimes at the Outer Banks beach house shared with Joni, Larry, and friends.  We would always stop at a farm stand or two on the way down, and the fresh corn--among other things--called our name.  The recipe came from Nathalie Dupree's New Southern Cooking.  Although, I guess that name is no longer accurate, since the book was published in 1986 and my friend Lita gave it to me in 1987 with the inscription that titles this post.

We had it late yesterday for an early Labor Day weekend dinner, along with roasted cauliflower, roasted asparagus, and corn muffins.  Why don't you fix it, too?  You'll love it.

New Southern Fried Corn

-10 ears of fresh corn, cut off the cob (If you're a purist, don't read this part:  sometimes I mix in some frozen corn; I've also been known to only use frozen corn in the winter)
-6 TBSP butter (I use less, but, hey knock yourself out)
-2 TBSP fresh basil (the recipe says or thyme, but trust me, use the basil)
-freshly grated black pepper
-Kosher salt

Melt the butter in a skillet, and cook the corn in the butter for around 5 minutes---still firm and not soggy, but cooked through.  Add a good plenty of kosher salt, a really good plenty of freshly grated pepper, and take the pan off the heat.  Add your chopped basil, stir, and serve.

Speaking of the Outer Banks, Joni, Larry, and others:  those were some good times.  B.L. (before Lucy) I loved being invited to go spend a week in August with these wonderful folks.  A.L. I loved it even more---there were people there who would actually entertain her and watch her for hours and hours, and those people weren't me.  It was heaven.  The first time I took Lucy, when she was almost 18 months old, was also when I realized I had to get rid of the nanny and send L to a child care center so she could be with other children every day:  she was ecstatically happy with 7 straight days of total interaction with Ander, Maddie, Nikki, Nora and other kids.  Here are a few photos of good times on the Outer Banks.

Winter

Snow. More snow. Lentil soup. Homemade cookies. Blizzard. Snow. Chocolate mousse. Snow. Breakfast potatoes. More snow. Vegetable soup. Ice.