The Return

Look at my herb garden! And my Japanese barbecue! I found the hibachi by chance when I was planting my herbs. When I opened the closet door on my balcony, which I rarely do, to put away my bag of dirt, a dirty, dusty plastic bag caught my eye. I pulled at it, and feeling that it was heavy, gave a little squeal. Could it be a barbecue? And not only was it a barbecue, it was a hibachi, the same kind my dad cooked on when he was just a little older than I and living with my mom in Chicago. Apparently, he ran up and down the stairs of their fourth floor apartment to cook in the alley. He's always talked about it as being a great compact way to barbecue in all sorts of weather. I can't believe my luck! There's even some charcoal, matches, and fire starter. I guess things just come our way.


Recently, I had to retire my old skateboarding helmet (I'm a terrible skateboarder, but I wore it biking, and it made me feel like a total bad ass.) I was sad to part with it, but after being dropped multiple times on the ground and being worn for five years, the outside had completely come unglued. I bought a new, very fast-looking blue helmet to replace it, but I kept the outside of my old helmet and, under someone's suggestion, planted some basil in it. Can't wait to eat pesto!


I can't insist enough on the importance of breakfast. I'd swim the Pacific ocean, braving shark bites, dehydration, and tankers for a breakfast of any kind. It's also my favourite meal to cook. And it's even better when there's someone else around to share it with. My favourite solitary breakfast is popped amaranth and strong black tea. I first learned about popping amaranth seeds when reading this article on the Gluten-Free Girl's blog last year. Ever since, I've been popping these little grains for breakfast. But popping it has been quite tricky. It often ended in my gripping the pot handle, pleading with the grains, begging them not burn. Finally, I figured out a way that works: Put a little bit of oil in a saucepan pan with a few seeds, turn the heat to max, and wait until the seeds start to pop. When they start popping, pour 1/3 C amaranth seeds into the pan and stir until most of the grains are popped and the cereal has increased in volume. Amaranth seeds are really tiny and they burn easily, so stirring is really important. Before, I used to put the lid on the pot and shake like I would for popcorn. Except this doesn't really work. Constant stirring does, and with minimal burning and minimal damage to the bottoms of my saucepans, I've figured out a stress-free way to eat this all the time. It's really high in protein and TOO delicious with blueberries and toasted almonds. Don't forget to go heavy on the maple syrup or honey.


I've been eating breakfast by myself for a long time. Almost two years. Even if I have to go running off to work or to school, it's always been my favourite time of day. And I always give myself some time to have tea, munch on something kinda sweet, and read an article or two. But something's changed... and I'm not so solitary. See? Those are someone else's lovely hands in the photo!

Two and a half months ago, I was invited to dinner by a friend. When I walked into the kitchen, there he was, standing there all tall and thin, with those big blue eyes and rectangular glasses. And then I learned he played tennis. And then I learned he was a sound engineer. And then I learned how much he loved bike-riding. And then I learned he loved to eat, that his family loved to eat. And now I'm learning how funny he is. How goofy he is. How patient he is. How good he makes me feel. And how unbelievably wonderful it is to share this life with someone you wake up to and just wanna squeeze 'cause they're so great. Mr. Jean-Baptiste! Your whole being is a delight. I'm glad I know you. Eating breakfast with someone has never been more wonderful. Even if it's while watching the World Cup. You know, I'm even enjoying the world cup. Sure, I read most of the time, but it's nice you love it so much.

When I was little, my mom made us fruit and yogurt popsicles for snacks. She used all kinds of berries and usually honey as a sweetener. I remember wearing my favourite Hanna Anderson dress and eating popsicles with my sister out in the back yard. Mom would my working in the garden, trying to get us to help, but we'd be (me especially) flitting about, trying to avoid helping at all costs. I'm sure Katherine was very willing to help initially, but I probably encouraged some sort of rebellion on her part. Oh to be young and wild! Mom also made limonade or apple juice popsicles, but my favourites were the yogurt ones. This week, yogurt and blueberries were on sale, so I made some. Blend 1 pint of blueberries, 1 C yogurt, and 1/4 C sugar in a blender or with a hand-held blender and pour it into popsicle molds. Delicious. This made a bit more than I needed, so I put it into bowls. I have to let the bowl sit on the counter for a while before the yogurt's soft enough to eat, but whatever. To unmold the popsicle, just run it under hot water until it pops out. I recommend playing with these quantities to find the right sweetness and consistency that you like.

Excuses

Well - I've been three weeks absent from our blog. You noticed, I'm sure.

But my excuse is excellent: I haven't cooked. Living at home means my Dad pretty much does everything, and with great panache. He still makes Risotto on a week night, he still does daily European style runs to the grocery store, and he still cooks for a brood of 20 rather than 3, resulting in excellent leftover lunches. He's decided it is OK for me to make the salad dressing, or bake - so there have been a few contributions in those areas, but nothing of real note.

I've also spent a great deal of time apartment hunting. Matt & I have an admittedly low budget, but I refuse to live somewhere with a disgusting, dark, galley style kitchen. This is proving a real challenge. I hold out hope however.

Judes, I hope your excuse is a whirlwind summer romance or vacation or new work, or just a well deserved break. Miss you, and much love.

K

P.S. I was permitted a hand in Father's Day menu planning - here's what we ate:
Dr. Pepper Ribs (We substituted Sky natural soda, Dr. Becker, because you can't get Dublin Dr. Peppers out here).
Cornbread
Grilled Potato Salad
Mixed green salad with toasted pecans, blueberries and a maple mustard vinagrette
Grandma's all real strawberry pie (recipe forthcoming - should she reveal her secrets!)

Mankato, Minnesota, adieu.

With less than 24 hours left in Minnesota there are a few folks/meals/locations I'd like to highlight for my own memorializing, and future visitors.

St. John's Episcopal Church
The first sermon Matt & I heard here was on how Jesus wants us to fight oppressive systems (ummm, YES). Philanthropic efforts include fair trade organizations & goods, Heifer International and Pride Fest. The rector selects hip swaying gospel themed hymns which the staunchly stiff congregation does their best to get into. In other words, it is perfect. We were more than embraced, and forever grateful for this faithful, kind, progressive place.


Christy's Cafe
This family run spot is perhaps the finest dining establishment in Mankato. They are dedicated to supporting the local Farmers' Market and providing excellent homemade fare. Christy's is Diner done better. One or both of the owners are always there (I am fairly certain they NEVER get a day off). When my parents came to visit, we ate here two days in a row. Their huevos rancheros are the best I've had outside of Texas, and I would give anything for a daily delivery of their pastry. A favorite breakfast that will be dearly, dearly missed.

Matt's Family
We've been supported, loved, and fed by Matt's Midwestern relatives. I will miss post thanksgiving shopping with his Grandmother and Aunt and fresh Walleye at the lake, and his cousin Jack's lacrosse games. They are quick to provide libations and hors d'ouvers, slow to irritate and smart, witty folk. I love them and will miss them dearly.

The Filling Station
I always see someone I know at the Filling Station. The carry and sell free trade loose leaf tea and have excellent pistachio biscotti. With eclectic and squishy furniture and a frequent flow of eccentric locals - what more could you want? Seriously.


The Snow
I both love and hate the snow. It is so beautiful, quiet - but equally a huge pain in the ass when you need to actually GO anywhere. All that to be said, I think I will miss it. The serenity of snow is unrivaled, and waking up to that level of peace is a rare and valuable moment.

Painted Hill Farm
Not only do these folks have the most gorgeous farm, but they also produce the finest pork I've ever tasted. I doubt I will find meat so fine in the Northwest and on cold winter nights when all I want is pulled pork, mashed potatoes and a side of broccoli, I will weap a little bit remembering the Thompson's and their damn fine meat.

I will leave you dear readers, and Minnesota, with a poem by Wendall Berry. I've learned a lot in Minnesota about making a home, building relationships, selecting food, growing plants, and appreciating weather. Generally I've learned that little of this can be controlled and that is, in essence, what makes all of it so equally terrifying and stunningly beautiful.

The Peace of Wild Things - Wendall Berry

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. 

Salad Daze of Summer

Well, after 10 days in the Pacific Northwest, a graduation, and the acquisition of a job (!), Matt & I returned to a very stuffy, muggy, icky, hot Minnesota. Thankfully I will be leaving via jet plane next Monday to begin said job. Matt procured an air conditioner last night so that he can attempt to sleep through the night for the rest of what is sure to be an almost intolerably hot summer.

All that being said I am interested in eating only cold light dishes that require little to no oven prep as the apartment is already a sweltering 80+ degrees. The following have sustained us this week and are delicious, light, and blissfully easy.

Mediterranean Pasta Salad
What you need:
2 cucumbers
1 small package cherry tomatoes
5oz block of feta cheese, or 5oz crumbled feta
15ish pitted Kalamata olives
1/2 lb or 1/2 box of shapped pasta, I like rigatoni (the corkscrew kind)
Dried oregano
White Wine Vinegar
Olive Oil
Salt & Pepper

What you do:
Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. While you are waiting for water to boil, peel cucumbers, cut lengthwise and remove seeds with a spoon. Slice each half into three long strips, then dice crosswise to create cubes. Place cubed cucumber in a large bowl. Wash tomatoes and split lengthwise with a knife, add to cucumbers. Crumble feta into bowl as well. Chop olives to desired fineness and add to mixture. Toss the whole lot gently with a spoon or your hand.

When water comes to a boil, add pasta. When pasta is cooked al dente (a bite should be firm but not crunchy), pour water and pasta into sink over strainer. Carefully run cold, cold water over pasta tossing gently until pasta and strainer are cold to the touch. Be sure to check all the way through pasta, heat spots will remain and if you aren't thorough will melt your cheese.

Add pasta to veggie, cheese mixture. In a separate bowl mix 1/4 cup olive oil with 1/4 cup white wine vinegar (I like a really tangy, lightly dressed salad so this is how I do, if this isn't your style adjust accordingly. Conventional wisdom is 2 parts oil to 1 part vinegar). Add 1 tbsp dried oregano (or more!) and salt and pepper generously. Combine dressing briskly with a fork. Dump over pasta-veg mixture, and stir and toss gingerly. Cover bowl and refrigerate until the whole thing is well chilled. Great as a side or alone. I even garnish with a bit of lemon juice sometimes (I love me some acid, clearly).


Romain Strawberry Sesame Salad
What you need:
1 bag hearts of Romain
1 quart strawberries
Sesame Seeds
Soy Sauce
Rice Wine Vinegar
White Sugar
Salt Pepper
Sesame Oil

Optional additions:  crunchy Asian noodles of any kind, sliced or diced chicken, avocado, peanuts, almonds, walnuts, pea pods, shredded carrot, whatever else you have floating around your kitch...

What you do:
(I make these by the plateful, a plate serves as a meal for one or as a side for two. The following describes how to assemble salad for 1 plate.)
On a cutting board, cut the end off of 1 heart of Romain. Discard end and continue slicing heart of Romain crosswise at about .5 inch intervals. When sliced rinse in a strainer, and shake to dry lettuce leaves, or spin in spinner.

Once leaves are dry, place them on a plate or in a large salad bowl. Slice four to five strawberries lengthwise, after carefully removing the stems. Place on top of lettuce. Sprinkle whole plate with about 1/2 tbsp of sesame seeds. Add whatever else you desire to top of salad...

In a small bowl measure 1 tsp white sugar,  2 tsp soy sauce, 2 tsp white wine vinegar, and 1/4 tsp sesame oil. Mix together vigorously with a fork. Taste and adjust to personal liking.  (This can be made very nicely with a dash of orange juice also).

Pour dressing over salad and dig in. Watch that you don't slop all over yourself, because it is delicious and easy to get carried away. :)

Spring Salad Fest

Spring Salad Fest has been happening all week at my apartment. It's finally hot and I certainly don't feel like eating anything that even flirts with raising my body temperature. Just salad. And this salad is a delicious one. Molly Wizenberg ate it for a week straight after she got engaged to her husband. I like that extreme: eating the same thing for an entire week because you're out-of-your-mind in disbelief something so lovely could happen to you. I started making it last spring and have picked it up again to celebrate Spring in Montreal: round two. And I've found no better way to spend my time than eating this light, tasty meal with a very funny, tennis-playing French man, who stumbled into my life not so long ago.

Sliced Spring Salad with Endive, Cilantro, Radishes, and Feta.

As adapted from M. Wizenberg

For two

Salad

2 medium Belgian endive, root end trimmed away, sliced crosswise into ¼-inch strips
1/2 head radicchio, sliced as thinly as possible
6 red radishes, sliced thin
Cilantro to taste
1 medium avocado, cubed
1/4 C feta

Vinaigrette

1 TBS Dijon mustard
3 TBS apple cider vinegar (or red wine)
1 tsp honey or maple syrup
1/2 tsp salt
5 TBS olive oil

- Whisk the mustard, vinegar, sweetner, and salt together.
- Slowly whisk in the olive oil until well combined.

- In a large bowl, combine the endive, radicchio, radishes, and cilantro leaves. Toss with vinaigrette to taste. Add the avocado and feta.
- Serve in two bowls with bread on the side.

Psst: you might still be hungry, so I suggest topping it off with some rhubarb crisp. You'll have some on hand, of course.

I scream, you scream, we all scream TONKATSU!

Lots of good things are happening lately, and one of them is pork tonkatsu, a delicious Japanese dish of pounded, breaded, and fried pork chops. This was a week-night special in my house growing up. I can still hear dad's hammering on the cutting board as he pounded out the boneless chops nice and thin. Can still see his hands flouring, egging, and breading the chops. Can hear them crackling around in the pan. Can remember refusing to eat the tangy, dark sauce and insisting instead on having ketchup - ah to have young and unappreciative taste buds, for there is ketchup in the sauce. We usually ate this with white rice and broccoli: a simple, quick, and oh-so-tasty meal, fit for a king and queen, or a family of four. The other day, I had it for lunch.

When I was growing up, I took the ease and deliciousness of tonkatsu for granted. Now, I turn to those old favourites to remind me of the "good ole times." But this time one thing was holding me back from satisfying my craving: I didn't have a meat pounder. This is a bit ridiculous, seeing as I bought a mandoline the other day. Mandoline's are much less useful than meat pounders. Why wouldn't I have just bought a meat pounder? Who knows. I guess I was waiting for one to come for me - that can be a fun approach sometimes, waiting. After complaining about this lack of pounder to Alix for almost four months, or so it seems, she lent me hers, poof! just like that.

I couldn't possibly wait any longer to make the recipe, so I marched off to the market, got myself some tasty little cutlets, and set to work. Here's what you do:

Pork Tonkatsu

Adapted from the BIRC (Best International Recipe Cookbook)

For two people

This recipe calls for bread crumbs. I strongly recommend finding some panko crumbs, Japanese bread crumbs. They're far superior to regular crumbs and easy to find nowadays. Just look in the foreign section of the grocery store! (If you have as terrible a foreign section as I do at my store down the street, you'll have to ride your bike a bit farther to the health food store, as I do, and you'll find them there for sure.)

The Chops

2 boneless pork chops, pounded to 1/4 inch thick
1/4 C cornstarch
1 large egg
1 C panko
2-4 TBS of vegetable oil

- To pound the pork chops, place them between some Seran wrap, and using a meat pounder, pound them until they're 1/4 inch thick. This will prevent bits of meat from flying everywhere. The Seran wrap will start to tear by the end, but this is nothing to worry about. Pound valiantly on!
- Set up three bowls: one with cornstarch, one with egg, and one with panko. Starting with the cornstarch, coat the chops first in cornstarch, then in egg, and then in panko. Use one hand for the egg and the other for the dry ingredients; otherwise, you'll stick to everything, and this is quite disagreeable. Set them on a wire rack to dry for 5 minutes.
- In the mean time, heat your medium-sized frying pan over medium-high heat and make the sauce.

The Sauce

1/4 C ketchup
1 TBS Wooster sauce (that's Worcestershire sauce for northern folk)
1 tsp soy sauce
1/4 tsp dry mustard powder

- whisk all ingredients together.

To Cook

- Heat the oil in the pan until shimmering. (I used much less than CI (Cooks Illustrated) calls for, but I'll let you be the judge. You don't want too much because it splatters everywhere and you worry about your heart, but you definitely want enough to give the chops a nice golden colour.)
- Cook each cutlet on each side for about 4 minutes. If they're thin enough and your pan is hot enough, they should cook quite quickly. I gave mine a poke to make sure they were firm, but slightly springy. CI recommends you cook them on each side for 2 1/2 minutes and then finish them in the oven. I decided this was a waste of electricity and left them in the pan for longer. It appeared to work BEAUTIFULLY.

Serving Suggestions

- Thinly slice the crispy chop and place it over a bed of soba or rice noodles, or just rice. Pour the sauce over top (see photo above!). I cooked my soba noodles in salted, boiling water and then sauteed them in the frying pan I cooked the pork in with some ginger, scallions and garlic. This was quite successful. There was also broccoli involved, which was also stupendously delicious.

So go buy those chops, buy that pounder, stand at that counter, and give 'er.

Ways to Woo Proffesors

I defended my Thesis two weeks ago, and as is per custom, I provided food. My food, was well, awesome. I spent weeks thinking about what I would serve, which deeply amused my office mates. I had to consider time of day, dietary restrictions, presentation, space, etc. This resulted in a lovely little non-alcoholic Mediterranean cocktail hour, and a very happy thesis committee. I also used it as an excuse to buy new serving ware (thank you T.J. Maxx).

The Menu:
Grapes
Cherry tomatoes
Cucumber Spears
Hummus
Whipped Feta
Marinated Olives (assorted)
Pita Chips
Grapes
Lemonade

DELCIOUS. I called all my friends over to my house after a (successful) defense and insisted they eat the leftovers. We did, but with the addition to wine.

Here is how you prep this baby:

• Grapes and tomatoes need simply be washed. I sometimes cut grapes into little clusters, but this is labor intensive, annoying, and somewhat unnecessary.
• Cucumber spears are a great way to eat cucumber, and they surprise people because they are not used to seeing cucumbers cut in this manner. First, peel the cucumber. Then slice in half. Slice each half lengthwise. Slice each half length into three long spears. Repeat for other sections. If cucumbers are particularly long, cut into thirds initially (each spear should be about 2.5 inches long). I prefer English cucumbers, but regular ones will work well too.
• Whipped Feta is something I cannot stop craving after having it prepared it for this little gathering. This comes straight from The Best International Recipe cookbook: In a food proccessor combine 1 pound feta, 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil, juice from 1 lemon, 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper, 1/4 tsp. ground black pepper. Process until smooth then transfer to a bowl and refrigerate until needed. I think the same results could be accomplished with a sturdy bowl and spoon and some serious elbow grease.
• I purchased my Hummus and Marinated Olives - but The Best International Recipe provides nice directions for making both on your own.
• Pita Chips are simple to make and WAY more delicious then the ones that come in foil bags. Buy or make your own pita bread. Then cut each slice into sixths. Pre-heat your oven to 400 degrees. Toss pita slices on a baking sheet with a generous glug of olive oil and more salt than seems necessary. Place in oven and bake until the edges of the pita slices begin to brown and desired crispyness is achieved. Serve immediatly or let cool and store in an airtight container for about 1 day.
• Lemonade should be GOOD lemonade, and by good I mean "not from concentrate." I likely Newman's Extra Virgin Lemonade and Simply Lemonade. 

And that, is a little Mediterranean party for proffs or friends alike.

French-Style Yogurt Cake, Muscat, and Philip Glass

It was the yogurt cake that did it. Philip Glass also played a major role, but we'll get to that in a minute. About a month ago, as I was finishing my dinner, I had a craving for cake. Not cake with icing, just cake. How peculiar because I usually don't have cake lying around, nor had I been inspired to cook anything besides pad thai for weeks. But I remembered this French-style yogurt cake that Molly Wizenberg wrote about in her book A Homemade Life. I checked all the ingredients, deciding to use oranges instead of lemons, and set to work. When it came out of the oven, I made the glaze, poured it over top, and waited for it to cool. Around 10 PM, I cut myself a piece, leaned my back against the counter, and ate it in three bites. It was simple and moist and honest. If someone had served me this cake for tea, I would have jumped on the table to do a dance. I put half in the freezer and ate the rest for breakfast with scrambled eggs, after lunch, and late at night with a small glass of muscat (a sweet French white wine that keeps a long time and is delicious with yogurt cakes, I discovered).


One afternoon, I was translating and listening to Julie Nesrallah's show Tempo on CBC Radio 2, a to-die-for afternoon classical program, when Philip Glass came on. I'd been listening to Steve Reich for months and Glass studied under Reich. The piece she played was from the Hours soundtrack, a film about Virginia Woolf told through the eyes of three woman in different eras, inspired by the book by Michael Cunningham. I loved the movie when I saw it almost six years ago, and I loved it just as much when I watched it again last week. Virginia Woolf is one of my heroes and now so is Glass. He wrote the soundtrack and it is phenomenal. The music is dominated by string instruments that soar through these emotional repetitive passages that some how all tie together. We so often listen to music as background noise, but this was impossible for me to ignore. Then, I ordered three CD's online and haven't listened to much else since. I still come home from a long day and put on this soundtrack, flop down in my big orange kitchen chair, and listen listen listen. Glass has accompanied me while I eat, walk, and sleep. A great match for a late night slice of yogurt cake.

It's spring and I feel like I can write again, not to mention cook again. What joy!

French-Style Yogurt Cake with Orange

As adapted from M. Wizenberg

Yogurt cakes were made in France using a 125 ml yogurt jar for a measuring cup. Since we don't have yogurt jars like that anymore (sob) Molly's measured it out for us.

She calls for all canola oil but also suggests using a light, fruity olive oil. I used half and half, and it was wonderful. Next time I'd be tempted to use all olive oil.

The cake

1 1/2 C white flour
2 tsp baking powder
pinch of salt
2 tsp orange zest

1/2 C well stirred plain whole-milk yogurt (not non-fat!)
1 C white sugar
3 eggs
1/4 C vegetable oil, such as canola
1/4 C good, fruity olive oil

- Preheat oven to 350 F
- Grease a 9-inch cake pan with butter, line it with parchment paper, and grease it too. (If you don't do this, it's alright, you'll just have to be extra careful about taking the cake out of the pan.)
- Whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Add the orange zest.
- In a large bowl mix together the yogurt, sugar, eggs, and stir well.
- Add the flour to the large bowl and stir until just combined.
- Add the oil and stir well. It will look like a big oily mess, but it'll come together.
- Pour it into the pan and bake for 25-30 minutes, or until the top is lightly brown, and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
- Cool the cake in the pan on a rack for 15 minutes. Run a knife around the edge of the pan and invert it first onto a plate and then back onto the rack. Place the rack over a rimmed baking sheet.

- Make the syrup

The syrup

1/4 C powdered sugar
1/4 C orange juice

- Combine sugar and juice with a whisk.
- Pour the syrup over the cake. Let it the cake cool completely. The syrup will sink into the top layer.

*Molly calls for a little icing made from 1 C powdered sugar and 3 TBS of orange juice, but really, I'm not sure this cake needs it. But if you feel so inclined, be my guest. You pour it on right before serving.

* You could also substitute 1/2 of ground almonds for 1/2 of flour.

Finding our Veggies

Yes, I recognize that Jamie Oliver is all the rage at the moment, what with a Television program and a revolution and all, but I cannot help but continue to gush about him/his book/his mission.

As a long time Jamie Oliver Fan (that British accent and chucking around of frozen TV dinners pretty much sold me at 12) Matt got me his Food Revolution book in December for Christmas. We both have been working our way through it. I will admit we are adept cooks - but I have to say the recipes are not only straightforward, but delicious (something I've always appreciated about Oliver). Our evening meals and subsequent leftovers have since been elevated to include vegetables (!), spices (!), fancy cheese(!), etc. without breaking our pocket books.

WHAT? Haven't I spent over a year complaining that we CAN'T eat like this because it is to expensive? Turns out, I maybe wasn't looking in the right places. Jamie's food revolution book has turned me on to the veg and nutrition I was over looking, and it is stuff we can afford - snow peas, ginger root, lemons -- all of these elements feel wonderful to be eating and creating with and cannot be more grateful of the reminder and the kick and the pants to eat more than creamy pasta dishes. AND Matt is on board too (an even larger feat).


I made salmon en croute (for two!) last week - and although Matt got made fun of for having "fancy food" leftovers the next day at work - this was actually a remarkably easy and satisfying dinner. The only frustration/concern I have is that the quality of our salmon was lame. It was the evil Frozen-from-God-knows-where. Unfortunately the delicious, sustainable meats are still a bit beyond our reach (but big hooray for Basil).

Salmon en Croute pour deux (a la Jamie Oliver)
What you need:
1/2 lbs. salmon fillets, no bones no skins
1 tomato
Basil Leaves
Olive Tapanade (check out TJ Maxx - they have this kind of thing for CHEAP!)
1/4 lbs. mozzarella cheese (Buffalo! Buffalo! Try for the Buffalo!)
1 sheet puff pastry (Frozen sections)
Salt & Pepper
Olive Oil
1 egg

What You Do:
Thaw 1 sheet of puff pastry (and fish if you are using Evil frozen like me).
Prepare salmon by rubbing in a good dribble of olive oil and salt and pepper.
Find a baking sheet with a bit of a lip.
Slice tomato, wash and pick basil leaves from stalk.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
Flour counter surface and spread out sheet of puff pastry. Roll out thin until the same shape and size as desired baking sheet. Place rolled puff pastry on baking sheet.
Arrange salmon on the center of prepared puff pastry. Spread a few healthy spoonfuls of tapanade on salmon. Arrange basil leaves across the top, covering fillet and tapande. Then arrange slices of tomato down the center. Crumble or shred mozzarella and sprinkle on top. Add a dash of olive oil, salt and pepper over the whole shebang.
Fold and curl puff pastry around the salmon fillet and toppings, trapping everything inside.
Crimp the edges and brush puff pastry with slightly beaten egg to seal edges.
Place in oven, bake until puff pastry is COMPLETELY puffed (bottom too! watch it, be patient, whisper sweet nothings in its ear).
Remove, cut, enjoy. Repeat for lunch next day and daze your coworkers.

(Reason number 1,543 to engage in Oliver recipes: They almost always come out looking as good as the pictures, unlike the evil Texas pastry lady who shall remained unnamed.)

P.S. Here are some other people doing really cool things with the Food Revolution Book/Concept:

A year of Food Revolution
Fed Up With School Lunch

Dear Kelsey,

I'm only eating salads and pad thai. They're delicious, however. Well, I also made stollen. And dyed eggs for easter. But I'm uninspired to write. And a little uninspired to cook.

I'm also questioning my writing because of this techniques class I took. Apparently, everything I knew about punctuation and sentence combining was wrong. Well, not wrong, but not right either. I also don't know what I want to write about. I'm tired of writing about lunch with jude in the living room. Or love. Or myself.

I think I will start cooking more though. I want to eat furiously fast dishes with huge tastes. Like pad thai! (Thank you Matthew Amster-Burton.) Light dishes too. Things that go down easily, digest easily, come out easily... ha!

Also, cooking has become a very solitary thing. Everyone always said to me before: don't you get tired of cooking for yourself? I would reply, No! I love cooking for myself. Plus, there's the blog... I was very adamant that the "I'm-tired-of-cooking-for-myself-syndrome" wouldn't happen to me. But, what d'you know, I'm tired of cooking for myself. Looks like I need a new cooking buddy. Where are you hiding friend! You'll be: Preferably male. Preferably smart. Preferably Eccentric, Artistic, and Weird. Preferably hilarious. Preferably good in bed... ha!

Then, if I start cooking, maybe I'll start writing.

Thinking of you and Tarte Tatin, and love, of course (!)

- Jude

Between blog birthdays and butter.

Our blog birthday was the 12th - and at the time I was on a vacation with my boyfriend Matt in Los Angeles. It was our Spring Break and we made the (wise) decision to get out of Minnesota to visit his family in California. We climbed rocks, we sat in the sun, we ate and drank like movie stars and generally had a fabulous time.

I've been dating Matt for almost 5 years. I love him dearly and shudder to think I may someday have to decipher the the things that are mine from his; our books, t-shirts, and furniture are so well integrated at this point that in these corporeal items it is impossible to tell where his things end and mine begin.

This week - I set out to make the tarte tatin that Judy and I promised for our blog birthday. I bought 6 apples at the grocery, completely unlike us since we avoid fresh produce due to the cost (a sad but true fact), and set about deciding on a time I could commit to the project. Monday night seemed appropriate. I had no other obligations and it would leave me with the tart for breakfast the rest of the week.

For supper Monday I fixed incredibly gross packaged ravioli that we'd procured from a discount rack at the discount grocery. Heed this advice: do NOT buy discount food at a discount grocery. I did what I could to save it with Parmesan cheese and olive oil and cracked pepper - but it was a mediocre meal at best. While doing our best to enjoy dinner, I broached the topic of Matt and my future. We are job hunting, on the verge of yet another move, and I am seeking some level of stability. I want to know that where I go I will have family forever, and because of that I desire, very much a verbal commitment from Matt. This is not something he is prone too, and this area of discussion is very taxing for both of us. This evening, shitty ravioli aside, was no different.

Our conversation went on at length without ever going anywhere. I cried, as I do, and Matt tried to explain his feelings, as he does, and we remain in the same place. Deeply committed, deeply loving, and yet unable to reach other in the chasm between planning for the future, defining the future and living in the moment. Our conversation ended, as they always do, in a calm and warm place, no progress or peace over the issue, but calm and sincere. It was at this point I made a tarte tatin.

I'd prepared the pastry the day before and set about rolling it out between parchment. I took pleasure in beating the hard lump into submission, pushing and prodding it into place, forcing it to flatten into the shape and size I desired. Peeling and arranging the apples was cathartic - finding a pattern that was pleasing enough despite uniformity. Waiting patiently for the butter the caramelize the apples, adjusting the heat and turning my pan, gingerly flipping the now tender apple pieces in preparation of the finished product. I was so grateful to have this place to come to, even with my heart experiencing a bit of turbulence, here, with this tarte tatin I could find the peace that could not be external.

After arranging the pastry, baking, and flipping over the cast iron skillet that caccooned my tarte, Matt walked into the kitchen. With humor he said,

"You don't want a commitment from me, just my cast iron skillet."

Laughing, I responded, "Yes, if I ever leave I'm taking it with." Matt, rightfully noted that it seemed fair. And walked into the other room.

I started to fix slices of the tarte for each us, the apples were positively luminous and pastry crisp and flakey. Matt called through the doorway "But I get the dutch oven!"

I plunked forks down on the plates. "No deal." I shouted back.

And then we sunk into dessert - enjoying that moment - trepidatious of the future, but confident in cast iron (of all sizes), the decadence of butter, and the sheer, but simple, beauty of a tarte tatin.

Derivatives

Spring is teasing us in Mankato. Yesterday was an INCREDIBLE 65 degrees, today we are back down to 30. But that brief whisper of spring fills me with a lot of hope.

I've been meaning to write for, well months. I always want to write more. But I spend all day at work, and school, staring at a screen so then somehow the idea of staring at a screen for pleasure just turns me off. Instead, I cook. Last night was Jamie Oliver's salmon cakes - which were unbelievably easy and delicious. (This blogger also expounds on their wonder). Matt & I decided though that they need a new name - "salmon cake" just doesn't sound appetizing, and certainly is not fitting for this easy, satisfying supper. I feel like someday I will lie to my children and tell them they are "Mom Cakes" and only when they are old enough to discern that the pink is, in fact, fish will they be disgusted.

However, despite the recent foray into spring - we've done quite a bit of winter eating, and perhaps not unsurprisingly derivative to my friend Murph's cravings. The week she made biscuits and creamed chicken, we had fried chicken strips, biscuits and cream gravy. Her miso soup adventures paralleled our discovery of easy egg drop soup. Coincidence? I think not. Lastly inspired by her pie crust, I made a chocolate pie (that riffed off of Lisa Fain's) around the same time as Murph's valentines cake. Kindred spirits indeed.

Below you will find my winter derivatives of Murphy's fine recipes - between the two, you should be able to find at least one option to suit your taste (and likely two).

Here's to putting Winter behind us!

Mark Bittman's Fast Egg Drop Soup
What you need:
4 cups good chicken broth (of your liking, homemade, canned, or you can do like me - herboux.)
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 scallions, sliced
1-2 thin slices peeled ginger
1-2 beaten eggs
1 tbsp. sesame oil
Garnishes of choice (watercress, snow peas, etc.)

What you do:
Heat broth, soy sauce, scallions, and ginger in a saucepan. Simmer mixture for ten minutes. Turn off heat. Spoon beaten egg into hot broth with a soup spoon and steady hand (this trick comes from Cook's Illustrated). With a full spoon full and at an even pace, pour egg from spoon in circles. Repeat until all egg is distributed into broth. This should produce long whisps of egg. Let rest for a few minutes. Add sesame oil, stir gently, and serve in bowls with desired garnishes.

Quick Chicken, Biscuits and Cream Gravy
What you need:
4-6 thawed chicken tenders per person (you can generally find these in the freezer sections of the grocery in big bags, or you can cut your own by slicing a boneless, skinless breast length wise)
1 cup corn meal
olive oil
butter
2-3 biscuits per person
Peppered cream gravy (see below).

What you do:
Set a sturdy skillet over medium-high heat. While the skillet is heating, put your corn meal in a pie pan or shallow bowl. Salt and pepper both sides of the chicken tenders. Next, add oil and butter to skillet. Swirl it around to coat the skillet. When skillet and fats are hot, dredge each side of a chicken tender in corn meal, and add immediately to the skillet. Do not do more than two or three tenders at a time, as it will slow the cooking. Also, do not dredge in advance, or coating will fall off and become soggy. Cook each side of the tenders for 3-4 minutes until coating is crispy and browned, and chicken is firm to the touch. Remove from pan and cool on paper towels. Repeat process until all the chicken is breaded and cooked.

Split biscuits down center, arrange tenders on top. Serve smothered in gravy and watch as your eaters grin as they dig into this southern staple (makes a decent breakfast too!)

Peppered Cream Gravy
(for two! If preparing for more, multiple recipe accordingly.)

What you need:
1 cup milk
3 tbsp butter or bacon fat
3 tbsp flour
salt
pepper

What you do:
In a small skillet, melt fat and flour together. Just before the mixture starts to bubble, remove from heat. This can be prepared in advance and stored in the fridge until needed.

Warm milk in a sauce pan on the stove over medium heat. When milk is warm to the touch, add fat/flour mixture. Stir constantly with a whisk, making sure to get down to the very bottom of the pan. Continue mixing over medium heat until milk begins to thicken. Thicken over heat until desired consistency is achieved. Season to taste with salt and pepper (I recommend more rather than less pepper).

Makifish Reinterprets Grandma's Chocolate Pie
First, let me just say the best chocolate pie I've ever had was in Texas at the Monument Cafe. And I will search from now until my dieing day for a recipe that replicates its splendor. This one comes close (but still not quite! Damn you Monument and your pie, so distant from my current home.)

What you need:
1 cooked pie crust, Murph's kicks booty (I know - I've messed around with A LOT of pie crust).
4 tablespoons of cocoa
3/4 cups of sugar
5 tablespoons of flour
1/4 teaspoon of salt
1 1/2 cups of milk
1/2 teaspoon of vanilla
2 egg yolks, beaten slightly
1 tablespoon of butter

What you do:
On the counter, sift together sugar, flour, salt, cocoa into a sauce pan. Briefly beat eggs and milk and then add to dry with a whisk.
Put the saucepan over medium heat and cook while stirring. When it bubbles and thickens, you are good to go. This took longer than I expected and I started to stress out - but like magic, it thickened up, almost all at once. Remove from heat and beat out any lumps. Then stir in your vanilla and butter.

Fill cooled pie crust with filling. Lisa Fain puts a meringue on hers - I didn't bother. I let everything cool slightly on the counter, and then popped it in the freezer. After a few hours of chilling, slice up and serve.

How 'bout some ice cream with your chocolate sauce?

Chocolate sauce and ice cream was a favourite dessert growing up. After we finished eating, we often found ourselves looking at each other until someone said: Hmmm, I kinda feel like something sweet. Dad would grin, lick his lips and say in a rather mischevious way: chocolate sauce... Minutes later we were filling our bowls with ice cream and drowning it in dad's homemade sauce. When we sat down someone was guaranteed to look over into their neighbor's bowl and say: Oh! Did you want a little ice cream with your chocolate sauce? And we'd all laugh, because this was hilarious. Dad was always the worst. He'd go for seconds, put one small scoop of ice cream into his bowl and spoon four times as much sauce over the top. The man really loves his chocolate sauce.

So do I! I'd forgotten all about it until I was looking through a cookbook Katherine made me of family recipes. When I saw the recipe, I leaped out of my chair and immediately set to work. I'd been waiting for an opportunity like this or someone else to come along and eat the ice cream I had left over from a couple weekends ago. This sauce takes five minutes to make and tastes gloriously better than the I-don't-know-what-you're-made-of store bought sauce. Once you make this you'll never go back. You'll impress countless guests and suffer through them refusing to leave or banging down your door for more. It's a tough life...


Here's the recipe as Katherine wrote it out. I'll rewrite the directions below in case you have trouble reading them.

- In a saucepan heat 1/3 C water or coffee with 1/2 brown sugar* over moderate heat, whisking until the sugar is dissolved. Add the cocoa powder and salt and whisk until smooth. Add 2 tbs of butter cut into small pieces and vanilla. Whisk until butter is melted.

* I used 1/3 cup for a darker chocolate flavour.

- Keep any leftovers in the fridge and spread on baguettes in the morning for breakfast. Or just eat it with a spoon on the front porch in your barefeet wearing your favourite t-shirt and jeans. I dunno, it's spring!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

The blog is 1 year-old today. And I made Tarte Tatin to celebrate. My mom is also visiting, which marks the beginning of the new era: Mom comes to visit. She's already stocked my cupboards, bought me a jade plant, a new little table and a lovely print of two bears holding their arms out to each other with a caption that reads "Donne-moi ta bouche". I like Mom coming to visit.

Writing this blog has been one of the greatest things I've ever done. We've even acquired some faithful readers! I've so enjoyed sharing my culinary adventures with Kelsey and all of you. I know I've only been eating soup lately, but things are changing - spring is almost here!

I first heard about Tarte Tatin from Rock, a man I work with. He was always saying how easy it was and how delicious and how he was going to come to work early one day and make it for us all. He hasn't yet, but since I now know how to make it, I can eat it every day if I want to. And it's so easy! Most recipes I've seen call for store-bought puff pastry; however, in the International Best Recipe by Cooks Illustrated you make your own. And. It. Is. Phenomenal.

Darling Alix came for lunch. I made salmon and quinoa. Mom made a salad. We ate Tarte Tatin.


Tarte Tatin

As adapted from Cooks Illustrated

For the crust:

Cooks Illustrated makes their dough in a food processor. I lack this kitchen tool, so I used a nifty hand pastry blender and the "smear" method (see below).

"Sugar makes pastry dough sticky, crumbly, and generally difficult to handle, and it also tends to fuse the spacers - the little bits of butter that make pastry flaky - leaving the baked crust crunchy, cookie-like, and a little hard." The solution? Confectioners sugar which "simply disappears" in the dough.

1 1/3 C white pastry flour
1/4 C confectioners sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 stick chilled unsalted butter
1 large egg, chilled and beaten

- Whisk flour, sugar and salt together to eliminate any lumps
- Cut in the butter with a pastry blender until the butter is in pea-sized lumps
- Slowly add the beaten egg, stiring and lifting the dough with a fork until big clumps form
- Dump the dough out onto a well-floured counter or cutting board and gather it into a rough ball. It will be loose and dry at this time.
- Take the heel of your hand and starting at the edge of the ball furthest from you, smear the dough onto the counter, all the while working back towards your body. This helps to combine the butter and the dough together (thank you Julia Child!) Now you can shape it into a disk, wrap it in Seran wrap and chill it while you prepare the apples. (You might need to use a bench scraper to get the dough off the counter).

For the apples:

1 stick unsalted butter
3/4 C granulated sugar
5-6 Granny Smith apples, peeled, quartered and cored.

- Preheat the oven to 375 F and place the rack in the upper third.
- Peel, core and quarter your apples
- Melt the stick of butter in a 10-inch cast iron skillet (or any other oven proof skillet you have)
- When it's melted, sprinkle the sugar over top, stir it around and start to lay your apples on their cut side in a ring around the pan. They should fit tightly together. Fill the middle with more apples also lain on their cut side.
- Over high heat, cook the apples for 10-12 minutes. Then using a fork, turn the apples onto their other cut side. They will have cooked down some, making them easy to turn and creating a bit more space in the pan.
- Cook the turned apples for 5 more minutes.
- While you're waiting for the apples to cook, roll out the pastry.
- When the apples are ready, lay the dough on top of the bubbling caramelized apples, folding any excess dough onto itself to form a small crust.
- Bake for 25-30 minutes or until the dough is nice and brown.
- Let it cool for 30 minutes on a rack.
- Place a plate big enough to cover the skillet and holding the plate and skillet firmly, flip the tart onto the plate. The apples should not stick, but if they do, just reposition any loose ones back on the tart.

THE TOPPING!

We had ice cream, but Cooks Illustrated recommends 1 C heavy cream beaten with 1/2 sour cream until light and fluffy. Yes please!

Thanks for reading people. And thanks Kelsey. What pure delicious joy this is to share this space with you.

- jude

Tomato Soup?

I only eat soup. And when it's as good as this tomato soup, who could complain? I made it yesterday listening to the new Devendra Banhart album called "What Will We Be", wearing read high heels and rolled up baggy jeans. My hair? Sticking straight up from straight out of bed. I sadly do not have a picture. I thought about it of course...



I spotted these lovelies in a second hand shop in Seattle while shopping with my dear friend Kelsey. I have yet to wear them out in public. Most of the time, I just look at them and know I could wear them. One day I hope to stride across stages and sing out about that great big heart of mine.



Alright, the soup. You'll need some of this sweet smoked paprika. It costs about 8 bucks a pot. I bought it last year and I still have 3/4 of a pot left. Is it worth it? Yes. You've never smelled anything like it in your life (besides real vanilla extract from Mexico). And it gives this tomato soup a one hell of a deep sweet roasted flavour.

Judy's Tomato Soup

makes four good-sized servings

1 medium-sized onion - sliced
2 cloves garlic - minced
1 28 oz can of whole tomatoes
2 C chicken broth
1 tsp sweet smoked paprika (or more, or less)
salt and pepper to taste

- In a dutch oven or large stew pot, caramelize the onion in olive oil or butter until deep brown (this could take a while, like 30-40 minutes, but this is where the most of the soup's flavour comes from so don't skimp on this step.)
- add minced garlic
- add tomatoes and chicken broth
- bring the soup to a boil and let simmer for 20 min - 40 min (depending on your level of patience)
- purée the soup with a hand blender or in a normal one
- add the paprika and season with salt and pepper

- grill yourself a cheese sandwich and open a can of pickled beans from the farm and sit on the floor and slurp and munch and crunch away.

A New Friend, A New Year, Endless Possibilities.

Dear Judy & Faithful readership -

1. I think we have a new friend here. Let's read her and admire her pictures.

2. Birthday is March 11th. To celebrate I suggest we cook tarte tatin from The Best International Recipe. The last time I attempted tarte tatin was in the communal kitchen of my freshman dorm with two of the very best in terms of friends and foodies. We made do with little and spent hours creating puff pastry, rolling it out with an illicit wine bottle. The result though, was divine, if a little less than aesthetic. Roasting a chicken might not be a bad idea either.

3. I also suggest a blog face lift in honor of year two. Thoughts?

Love to all,

Makifish

For the Love of Chocolate

I love that fancy chocolate comes with instructions. Consider Vosges "See, Smell, Snap, and Nibble."

Generally the delight is wrapped in various layers, meaning that the consumer gets to delicately open the cardboard and then savagely peel into the foil before breaking off a piece with a satisfying jerk. It makes the moment of chocolate craving less primordial and more soothing.

Are their sommeliers of chocolate? Because I’d like to be one. I have a discerning palette.

Some of the favorites at our house when we are kindly gifted or choose to splurge:

1. Jacques Torres These are for special occasions, I've only eaten them in New York. But I reccomend earl gray.
2. Chocolove in Rhaspberry. Break up and add to brownies.
3. Green & Black in Mint. By far the finest Mint Chocolate combo.
4. And clearly, I failed this valentines day because I did not purchase Matt this.
5. My mother on the other hand succeeded because she found me a dark chocolate orange, for which there is blissfully no web link.

Happy Belated Valentines day and happy Chocolatiering. Get after that foil, and follow with a glass of red wine at whatever price point suites you. This my friends, is indulgence.

The “No Expectation Let Yourself Love and Be Loved Cake”

Valentine’s eh? A holiday filled with expectation and commercial horror. Or so seems to be the opinion of my ever-liberated generation. I have celebrated Valentine’s with few of my boyfriends, but only because there haven’t been many to celebrate with. I was either so engrossed in my studies I didn’t look around the room twice to see if someone might be interested, or I had just started dating someone, and it was much too early to make a big deal about it.

Valentine’s is unfortunately associated with this need to buy all sorts of presents to prove how much you love someone. This seems to be the root of the problem for many people. Shouldn’t we be able to express this every day? Of course! Good grief. I’ve always celebrated Valentine’s whether I was with a boyfriend or not. It’s a delightful excuse to eat delicious things with some favourite people and celebrate one of the most important things in this world: love.

Growing up, we always had a Valentine’s day breakfast. My mom would set the table in red and white; there would be flowers in vases, chocolates and cookies beside our place mats, and sometimes little “ I love you cards”. No matter what we had planned for that morning, we always ate together. Scones, coffee cake, cinnamon buns, or anything else delicious would be served with scrambled eggs and strong black tea. Someone would turn on Chicago’s "Make Me Smile" and we’d all sit ourselves down. Being the joyful little unit that we are, we’d all say “Happy Valentine’s!” Wave our forks and napkins around in the air and dig in.

My first boyfriend only wore shorts. Even in winter. This didn’t bother me – I found his long skinny legs charming. He swam, skateboarded, played the bass and ran track. We were sixteen and knew nothing about relationships. As we stumbled through, stealing kisses after track practice and clambering back into our clothes when we heard our parents coming home, we learned a lot about each other and about loving. I remember a rather juvenile conversation we had about what clothes we would look best in. I admitted he would look great in a red t-shirt and black pants. He grimaced of course at the mention of pants and I laughed saying it really didn’t matter, I’d love him anyways, but it would look good…. Valentine’s rolled around that year and we’d been dating for maybe four months. I don’t remember planning anything special, but we both cooked up something on our own accord. I made him a huge heart-shaped “red cake” (a family favourite) complete with cinnamon heart decorations and “I love you Eric” written in the middle. He showed up at my locker wearing a red t-shirt and black pants, carrying a Styrofoam carton with a cinnamon bun in it from my favourite bakery. Huge points.

A couple years later – a far cry from being innocently sweet and sixteen – I celebrated another Valentine’s with a Montreal, tree-planting boyfriend. Looking back, I can’t help but smile. Things weren’t going so well, to say the least, and I used Valentine’s to try and prove how perfect we were for each other. If I could make the perfect dinner, he would know how much I loved him. In the week prior, I scoured the city for ingredients. I bought little cards for our two other roommates and left them little candies at breakfast. On Valentine’s I cooked all day, making yet another heart-shaped red cake complete with cinnamon heart decorations. For dinner, I made a moose tajine (yes, a tajine with moose meat instead of the traditional lamb or chicken – it didn’t pair so well with the spices, I must add). I dressed up, lit candles and waited for him to come home from school. When he walked in the door, he was surprised, but underneath seemed uncomfortable. Why had I gone to so much trouble? Dinner was good, but we said little and ate too much – our full bellies trying to fill our empty hearts. The evening was filled with unsatisfied expectation. It was Valentine's after all! We should be so in love! But I knew it wasn't working and I had no idea how to get out. After dinner we went and played hockey with friends. Skating around the rink, I remember wanting to keep skating as fast as possible, forever, until I couldn’t see anyone anymore but myself. But I kept going in circles.

I made another cake this year. Molly’s Winning Heart’s and Minds Cake. Except I’m calling it the “No Expectation Let Yourself Love and Be Loved Cake”. You can visit her website and read all about it here.


Happy loving folks.

Afternoon Sun, Loud Music and Miso Soup

These days I have time. Time to wake up slowly, stretch, eat oatmeal, read, think. I do work, oh yes, most days I have many things to do: translations for school, technical writing exercises, statistical documents to read in French, emails to write. My mornings are slow, but I'm usually working by 10. Then comes lunch, more work, singing, dinner and class. Not a bad existence considering it's February and everyone's supposed to be going stir crazy. I feel the opposite. This is the first winter in Montreal I haven't wanted to run at top speed off the top of Mount Royal and fly back home as fast as possible.

In January, I decided I wasn't going to let the solitude get me down. I wasn't going to be harsh with myself - winter is harsh enough. I would eat good soup, lots of roast chicken, broccoli and oatmeal cookies. I would dance regularly in the living room and go for long walks. I would read Kurt Vonnegut short stories and Marguerite Duras. I would enjoy the company of myself; because if we can't do that, where are we? Some days I'm more productive than others; some I go stir crazy from sitting in front of the computer too long; some I lie on the floor after lunch in the sun too long with Sinead O'Connor or Fleetwood Mac blasting from the speakers. Then I frantically leap up and say, "Oh no! Where has the day gone?" My nimble lion fire fuels me. I allow my mind to go where it needs to. And I eat Miso Soup for lunch.

Miso Soup

Ros gave me the Cooks Illustrated International Cookbook (an absolute must have) in a cookbook exchange we did. The first recipe I made was miso soup from the Japanese section. I went to the health food store and bought enough seaweed, tofu and miso to last all winter. But my first soup was a disappointment. After several tries, I figured out this soup is best eaten immediately and now only make enough for one. Although it won't satisfy a growling, ferocious hunger, the kind that takes over me around dinner, it's perfect for lunch. And it takes 15 minutes to make.

The Broth

Kombu is a thick form of seaweed used to make dashi, the basic broth in Japanese cooking. When making miso soup, bonito flakes (at right in picture) are added after the kombu water boils. Some people strain out the fish flakes, but I like to leave them in, as I enjoy their strong, smoky taste.

one bowl of water
1 piece of kombu broken in half
1 TBS (or more or less) bonito flakes
1 TBS miso paste (I use brown rice)

- fill up the bowl you want to eat soup in with water
- pour the water into a small sauce pan
- add the kombu
- cover the pot and bring the water to a simmer
- turn off the heat, take out the kombu and add the bonito flakes (you can cut the kombu up and add it to the soup, but I find it tough)
- let the broth sit for 3-5 min (strain out bonito flakes if you don't want them - they are a bit stringy)
- turn the heat on to medium and start stirring in the miso paste with a whisk
- heat the broth until it just starts to simmer and the miso is disolved

Additions to your soup

While the kombu water is heating up, start preparing your bowl. I like to add tofu, pickled vegetables, sesame seeds and green onion. You can add whatever else you like or drink the broth plain.


1/3 block tofu
1 TBS pickled vegetables (recipe to follow)
1 green onion (sliced finely)
1 tsp toasted sesame seeds

- cut up the tofu into small cubes and place in bowl
- add the rest of the ingredients to the bowl
- when the miso is hot enough, pour it over the tofu in the bowl

Because I'm always very excited to eat, I often burn my tongue on soup. I use cold tofu which cools down the soup while cooking gently in the broth.

Pickled Vegetables

1/2 carrot
1/2 cucumber
4-6 radishes
ginger
1 C rice vinegar (or more)

- cut the carrot and cucumber on the bias so you have long diagonal slices. Lay the slices out on the cutting board so they slighty over lap each other and cut them into skinny strips. This is called julienne. Another way to do this is to first square off the vegetable and then cut it into match-stick slices. You can watch a video of how to do this here.
- for the ginger, you will need to peel it and cut it into coins. Then you can cut it into skinny slices.
- put your julienned vegetables in a bowl and cover them with rice vinegar. Let the vegetables sit for 30 minutes or over night. They will keep for 2-3 weeks in the fridge. I wouldn't keep them any longer, however.

Afterwards, eat a few oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and some fruit. That should be enough until snack time.

Speaking of lunch....it's that time of day.

- murph

The Epitome of Comfort Food

"What are we having for dinner?" My thirteen-year old self yelled from the living room into the kitchen.

"Creamed chicken and biscuits." Mom called back. She was pulling containers out of the fridge, washing her hands, tying her apron, and sighing now and then. Long day?

"Awww, really? Again?" I cried.

"Yes, we are. It's been a long day, there's leftover chicken that needs eating. Will you please come in and set the table?"

I put my nose back in my book and scowled. Chicken and biscuits. How uninspiring. I got up and dragged my feet into the kitchen. I hated setting the table.

In the kitchen, mom was scraping chopped, cooked chicken into a thick, warm gravy. She opened the freezer, dug out some frozen vegetables and added them to the mix. She put the lid on the saucepan and opened the oven to check the biscuits. They were done: fluffy, flaky, buttery goodness. My stomach rumbled.

"Where's dad and Katherine?" I asked.

"They're coming home from track practice. Should be here any minute. Will you please set the table?"

"Aww do I have to..."

"Judy, I don't want to ask you again."

I got the silverware out of the drawer, set it out on the table, lit the candles, and made sure everyone had a napkin. Then dad and Katherine came in the door, sweaty and hungry. They'd been out high-jumping or long-jumping or doing some kind of jumping, running around in circles, throwing things, you know.

"Smells good!" Dad said.

"Okay, we're ready to eat!" mom cried. I stood with my plate in hand, hungry, and no longer "uninspired". She opened up a biscuit, put it on my plate and poured the thick chicken gravy over the biscuit. It smelled so good. Then we all sat down.

No one said much; it was the end of a week in February. The rain poured down, the candles flickered and Joni Mitchel sang about bows and flows and angel hair. After we'd finished eating we ate the leftover biscuits slathered in Smuckers raspberry jam for dessert.

"Can I be excused? It's been 15 minutes," I piped up, breaking the quiet.

"Yes, you may." Mom said.

"Me too?" said Katherine.

"It's Katherine's night for dishes! Katherine's night for dishes! Haha!" I broke out into song, dancing around the dining room. My sister groaned when she remembered this was true.

I scampered off into the evening, delighted I didn't have to do the dishes or sit a moment longer at the table. But my belly was full and I called out as I pounded downstairs to my room, "Hey mom! Thanks for dinner!"

"You're welcome," I heard her call as I shut my door and disappeared.


Creamed Chicken and Biscuits

Because I have class at night, I often cook during the day. I also try and make meals that are nourishing, inexpensive, comforting and easy. The answer? Chicken and biscuits. No wonder my parents made it so often. And even though I've never really liked frozen vegetables, I quickly realized that this dish isn't the same without some added frozen peas, corn, or carrots, or all three.

Despite my resistance throughout my teenage years to sit for longer than 15 minutes with my family at the table (that was the rule anyways), I now value eating with people above all, and the meals I share with my family when I go home beat any meal I've ever eaten by myself. In the meantime, I'm focusing on enjoying eating alone, because that too has value: Being comfortable with you are.

for 2 people

1 TBS butter
1 TBS flour
1 C chicken stock

1 C cooked, chopped chicken
1 C frozen veggies
1 tsp dried thyme (or to taste)
salt and pepper to taste

1 recipe for biscuits

- Make biscuits.
- They may be done before the gravy is. No problem! Take them out of the oven, wrap them in a towel and set them aside in a bowl until you're ready to eat.

For the gravy

- Over medium heat, melt the butter in a medium sauce pan.
- Add the flour and stir vigorously to combine it with the butter until bubbling.
- Slowly add the chicken stock, stirring constantly. As the chicken stock heats up and the flour cooks, a gravy forms. The sauce may take 10 minutes or so to thicken. It is important to stir the sauce while it thickens. Otherwise, it will burn on the bottom.
- Add the salt, pepper and thyme.
- Add the chicken and veggies.
- Turn the heat down and put the lid on the pot and cook until the veggies are soft.
- Taste for seasoning. (I've heard you can add some cream here, if you're not too fat, but I've never done this. I don't consider myself too fat, either. I bet it's delicious.)
- Cut open two biscuits, place them face up on a plate and smother them with the creamed chicken.

- After, have a little dessert why don'cha! I've been eating huge oranges every day, because they're in season in some far off place, and delicious. And then a couple squares of chocolate never hurt anyone.