Mon - January 7, 2008
Spiced Cranberry-Pear Tart
Good things do come in small packages.
Especially the kind that is smaller than a marble, bounces when ripe, and matures to a brilliant ruby color.
It’s the cranberry and it’s packed with more flavonoids per fresh weight than 20 other common fruit.
This means that this tiny jewel of a fruit is an important source of anti-cancer fighting nutrients and antioxidants. Cranberries are also loaded with proanthocyanidins (PACs) that have an “anti-adhesion” effect on bacteria in the body which can help prevent urinary tract infections, periodontal disease, and some stomach ulcers.
Wow, all this without a visit to the doctor or health food store.
Interestingly, the cranberry along with the blueberry and Concord grape are the only commercially-important fruits native to North America. The grapefruit originated in Barbados (sorry, Texas) and the peach is native to China (that one hurts, Georgia).
Of course, Native Americans believed in the benefits of cranberries a long time ago and used them for a variety of medicinal and other purposes.
Glad we’re catching on.
Sadly, cranberry production in the United States still outstrips demand. Not surprising though given our American penchant for food pre-prepared, pre-packaged, or purchased in a drive through.
With a harvest season that begins in September, fresh cranberries don’t last much on the shelves past January so I take full advantage. New Year’s day I whipped up a cranberry-pear tart and fresh cranberry sauce as a part of my celebratory meal for family and friends. There wasn't enough left of either following our mid-day gathering to qualify as "leftovers."
Ocean Spray, the largest producer of canned and bottled juice drinks in North America, calls the cranberry the “Wonderberry” for all its nutritional and health benefits.
I simply call this little dynamo of a berry wonderful.
You still have time to grab a bag of fresh cranberries for this wonderful tart. Frozen cranberries will work as well.
Spiced Cranberry-Pear Tart
Pistachio Sugar
1/2 cup unsalted natural pistachios
1/3 cup sugar
Crust
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
3 tablespoons powered sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
10 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 tablespoons (or more) ice water
Pear Filling
3 cups dry red wine
1 3/4 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups water
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon (packed) finely grated lemon peel
6 whole cloves
1 cinnamon stick (broken in half)
4 large slightly underripe Bosc pears (about 2 1/2 pounds), peeled, halved, cored, each half cut into 3 long wedges
1 cup fresh or frozen cranberries
1 tablespoon chopped unsalted natural pistachios
For Pistachio Sugar: Combine 1/2 cup pistachios and 1/3 cup sugar in processor and blend until pistachios are chopped.
For Crust: Blend flour sugar, salt in processor. Add butter, pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add 2 tablespoons ice water; pulse until mixture begins to clump, adding more ice water by teaspoonfuls if dry. Gather into ball; flatten into disk. Wrap in plastic and chill overnight.
Roll out dough on lightly floured surface to 13-inch round. Transfer to 9-inch diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Trim overhang to 3/4 inch. Fold in and press, forming double-thick sides. Pierce all over with fork. Chill 30 minutes, then freeze 15 minutes.
Position rack in center of voen and preheat to 400 degrees. Back crust until golden, piercing with fork if crust bubbles, about 30 minutes. Cool on rack.
For Pear Filling: Combine first 7 ingredients in large skillet; bring to boil, stirring until sugar dissolves. Add pears; bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium-low; cover and simmer until pears are tender when pierced with knife, turning occasionally, 15 to 20 minutes depending on ripeness. Using slotted spoon, transfer pears to 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish in single layer. Add cranberries to liquid in skillet; simmer until berries begin to soften but remain intact, about 4 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer cranberries to plate in single layer. Cover, chill at least 3 hour. Boil poaching liquid in skillet until reduced to 1 1/4 cups, stirring often, about 10 minutes.
Drain pears on paper towels 10 minutes. Brush bottom of crust with 2 tablespoons poaching syrup; sprinkle pistachio sugar over. Starting at outer crust, arrange pears closely in starburst pattern with stem ends toward center. Arrange remaining pears in center. Brush pears lightly with some of the syrup. Toss cranberries with 1 tablespoon syrup; scatter over pears. Sprinkle with 1 tablespoon chopped pistachios.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
- I made this in a pie pan as my tart pan was already occupied by a dark chocolate tart with a gingersnap crust. It didn't affect the taste but I would have preferred to have had more room to fan out the pears purely for presentation.
- Several people commented about how good the crust was. This was the first crust that I've made with powdered sugar. Maybe this was the secret or I'm just particularly skillful at making crust late on New Year's Eve.
Especially the kind that is smaller than a marble, bounces when ripe, and matures to a brilliant ruby color.
It’s the cranberry and it’s packed with more flavonoids per fresh weight than 20 other common fruit.
This means that this tiny jewel of a fruit is an important source of anti-cancer fighting nutrients and antioxidants. Cranberries are also loaded with proanthocyanidins (PACs) that have an “anti-adhesion” effect on bacteria in the body which can help prevent urinary tract infections, periodontal disease, and some stomach ulcers.
Wow, all this without a visit to the doctor or health food store.
Interestingly, the cranberry along with the blueberry and Concord grape are the only commercially-important fruits native to North America. The grapefruit originated in Barbados (sorry, Texas) and the peach is native to China (that one hurts, Georgia).
Of course, Native Americans believed in the benefits of cranberries a long time ago and used them for a variety of medicinal and other purposes.
Glad we’re catching on.
Sadly, cranberry production in the United States still outstrips demand. Not surprising though given our American penchant for food pre-prepared, pre-packaged, or purchased in a drive through.
With a harvest season that begins in September, fresh cranberries don’t last much on the shelves past January so I take full advantage. New Year’s day I whipped up a cranberry-pear tart and fresh cranberry sauce as a part of my celebratory meal for family and friends. There wasn't enough left of either following our mid-day gathering to qualify as "leftovers."
Ocean Spray, the largest producer of canned and bottled juice drinks in North America, calls the cranberry the “Wonderberry” for all its nutritional and health benefits.
I simply call this little dynamo of a berry wonderful.
You still have time to grab a bag of fresh cranberries for this wonderful tart. Frozen cranberries will work as well.
Spiced Cranberry-Pear Tart
Pistachio Sugar
1/2 cup unsalted natural pistachios
1/3 cup sugar
Crust
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
3 tablespoons powered sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
10 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 tablespoons (or more) ice water
Pear Filling
3 cups dry red wine
1 3/4 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups water
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon (packed) finely grated lemon peel
6 whole cloves
1 cinnamon stick (broken in half)
4 large slightly underripe Bosc pears (about 2 1/2 pounds), peeled, halved, cored, each half cut into 3 long wedges
1 cup fresh or frozen cranberries
1 tablespoon chopped unsalted natural pistachios
For Pistachio Sugar: Combine 1/2 cup pistachios and 1/3 cup sugar in processor and blend until pistachios are chopped.
For Crust: Blend flour sugar, salt in processor. Add butter, pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add 2 tablespoons ice water; pulse until mixture begins to clump, adding more ice water by teaspoonfuls if dry. Gather into ball; flatten into disk. Wrap in plastic and chill overnight.
Roll out dough on lightly floured surface to 13-inch round. Transfer to 9-inch diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Trim overhang to 3/4 inch. Fold in and press, forming double-thick sides. Pierce all over with fork. Chill 30 minutes, then freeze 15 minutes.
Position rack in center of voen and preheat to 400 degrees. Back crust until golden, piercing with fork if crust bubbles, about 30 minutes. Cool on rack.
For Pear Filling: Combine first 7 ingredients in large skillet; bring to boil, stirring until sugar dissolves. Add pears; bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium-low; cover and simmer until pears are tender when pierced with knife, turning occasionally, 15 to 20 minutes depending on ripeness. Using slotted spoon, transfer pears to 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish in single layer. Add cranberries to liquid in skillet; simmer until berries begin to soften but remain intact, about 4 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer cranberries to plate in single layer. Cover, chill at least 3 hour. Boil poaching liquid in skillet until reduced to 1 1/4 cups, stirring often, about 10 minutes.
Drain pears on paper towels 10 minutes. Brush bottom of crust with 2 tablespoons poaching syrup; sprinkle pistachio sugar over. Starting at outer crust, arrange pears closely in starburst pattern with stem ends toward center. Arrange remaining pears in center. Brush pears lightly with some of the syrup. Toss cranberries with 1 tablespoon syrup; scatter over pears. Sprinkle with 1 tablespoon chopped pistachios.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
- I made this in a pie pan as my tart pan was already occupied by a dark chocolate tart with a gingersnap crust. It didn't affect the taste but I would have preferred to have had more room to fan out the pears purely for presentation.
- Several people commented about how good the crust was. This was the first crust that I've made with powdered sugar. Maybe this was the secret or I'm just particularly skillful at making crust late on New Year's Eve.
Posted at 06:37 AM
Sun - October 21, 2007
Cowlitz River Salmon with a Soy-Ginger Marinade
Fishing, I’ve concluded, is a lot of doing
nothing interspersed with moments of adrenaline rushes.
It was a quiet morning on the Cowlitz River and I was snoozing peacefully during one of those nothing periods. It had been an early rise at 3:30 am for the two-hour drive south from Seattle.
My baited hook was dangling in the water and the sun was gently warming the crisp, cool day. Then came the battlecry.
“Fish on! Fish on!”
Jamie, one of my fishing mates, had noticed the telltale dip and tug of the rod; his call snapped me from slumber.
Whose rod was it?
Mine!
As I pulled my rod from its placeholder my fellow fisherman scrambled to collect and put theirs away.
With the first difficult twist of the reel, I knew it was a doozy. I was in a massive tug of war with a finned and scaled opponent.
This was only the second time I had been fishing; the first time was on an outing with my dad’s family in Mississippi. I was five at the time and by late afternoon everyone had caught a fish except for me and I had cried, you know that thing that girls and five-year-olds do. Just about the time I was ready to call it a day there was a nibble on my line and with my dad’s help I reeled in the biggest catch of the day, a 1.5-pound catfish. I was ecstatic.
Now, standing on a boat in the middle of the Cowlitz River with a wild fish flailing on the other end of my line I felt like I had graduated to the big leagues without ever truly playing in the little leagues.
And my dad wasn’t there to assist.
As the only girl on the fishing expedition I had purposely stirred things up the night before as we paid for our fishing licenses and again during the wee morning hours trek to the river with the idea that I was going to catch the biggest fish.
Now in this mammoth struggle of girl against fish I was happy to hang onto the rod which I thought would fly out of my hands at any moment.
The fish zigged and zagged, tugged and pulled. I cranked the reel steadily and deliberately, and somehow hung on.
As I slowly but surely reeled the thrashing fish within a fishing net’s distance of our boat, our fishing guide, Cesare, stooped down and scooped it up.
Victory! It wouldn’t be the story of the one that got away after all.
At 25 pounds it was the weightiest catch of the day for which I earned $125 from my fishing companions from a group bet that we had agreed to the night before. My catch outweighed Jeff’s fish, its closest competitor, by two pounds.
With memories of a warm, long ago Mississippi afternoon, I was once again ecstatic.
The art of fishing is a mystery to me. We each tantalized the fish with the same bait in the same fishing hole at the same time but it was the luck of the draw as to which fish ended up on my line.
But now I get this fishing thing. Not so much the how, but the why. There’s something relaxing, satisfying, and addicting about doing nothing interspersed with a handful of adrenaline rushes especially when you hook and land something very good to eat.
Among the Dallas residents we fileted, froze, and boxed up 49.2 pounds of salmon for the flight home.
I also had the fortune of pulling in a second fish that afternoon, a nice 10-pound catch. Seemed like a piece of cake after the fight I had with the larger one.
I was the only one who reeled in two fish on this expedition, but I thought better of making a big deal of it with the guys. They might not invite me back.
To see more photos from this fishing trip click here. Click on any individual photo to start the slide show.
Cowlitz River Salmon with a Soy-Ginger Marinade
1 teaspoon brown sugar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon chili oil
1/2 teaspoon grated ginger
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
Marinate the salmon for 1/2-1 hour then grill.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
This is my own concoction.
It was a quiet morning on the Cowlitz River and I was snoozing peacefully during one of those nothing periods. It had been an early rise at 3:30 am for the two-hour drive south from Seattle.
My baited hook was dangling in the water and the sun was gently warming the crisp, cool day. Then came the battlecry.
“Fish on! Fish on!”
Jamie, one of my fishing mates, had noticed the telltale dip and tug of the rod; his call snapped me from slumber.
Whose rod was it?
Mine!
As I pulled my rod from its placeholder my fellow fisherman scrambled to collect and put theirs away.
With the first difficult twist of the reel, I knew it was a doozy. I was in a massive tug of war with a finned and scaled opponent.
This was only the second time I had been fishing; the first time was on an outing with my dad’s family in Mississippi. I was five at the time and by late afternoon everyone had caught a fish except for me and I had cried, you know that thing that girls and five-year-olds do. Just about the time I was ready to call it a day there was a nibble on my line and with my dad’s help I reeled in the biggest catch of the day, a 1.5-pound catfish. I was ecstatic.
Now, standing on a boat in the middle of the Cowlitz River with a wild fish flailing on the other end of my line I felt like I had graduated to the big leagues without ever truly playing in the little leagues.
And my dad wasn’t there to assist.
As the only girl on the fishing expedition I had purposely stirred things up the night before as we paid for our fishing licenses and again during the wee morning hours trek to the river with the idea that I was going to catch the biggest fish.
Now in this mammoth struggle of girl against fish I was happy to hang onto the rod which I thought would fly out of my hands at any moment.
The fish zigged and zagged, tugged and pulled. I cranked the reel steadily and deliberately, and somehow hung on.
As I slowly but surely reeled the thrashing fish within a fishing net’s distance of our boat, our fishing guide, Cesare, stooped down and scooped it up.
Victory! It wouldn’t be the story of the one that got away after all.
At 25 pounds it was the weightiest catch of the day for which I earned $125 from my fishing companions from a group bet that we had agreed to the night before. My catch outweighed Jeff’s fish, its closest competitor, by two pounds.
With memories of a warm, long ago Mississippi afternoon, I was once again ecstatic.
The art of fishing is a mystery to me. We each tantalized the fish with the same bait in the same fishing hole at the same time but it was the luck of the draw as to which fish ended up on my line.
But now I get this fishing thing. Not so much the how, but the why. There’s something relaxing, satisfying, and addicting about doing nothing interspersed with a handful of adrenaline rushes especially when you hook and land something very good to eat.
Among the Dallas residents we fileted, froze, and boxed up 49.2 pounds of salmon for the flight home.
I also had the fortune of pulling in a second fish that afternoon, a nice 10-pound catch. Seemed like a piece of cake after the fight I had with the larger one.
I was the only one who reeled in two fish on this expedition, but I thought better of making a big deal of it with the guys. They might not invite me back.
To see more photos from this fishing trip click here. Click on any individual photo to start the slide show.
Cowlitz River Salmon with a Soy-Ginger Marinade
1 teaspoon brown sugar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon chili oil
1/2 teaspoon grated ginger
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
Marinate the salmon for 1/2-1 hour then grill.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
This is my own concoction.
Posted at 11:42 AM
Mon - October 15, 2007
Love At First Sip: Beer Bread With An Apricot Twist
I’ve never been a beer
drinker.
Why bother, I always thought, especially after watching the “Laverne and Shirley” television show as a teenager.
Laverne and Shirley were bottle cappers at the fictional Shotz brewery in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
This Yiddish hop-scotch ditty from the show’s opening scene forever cemented in my mind that beer makers and beer drinkers were a crowd that perhaps I’d prefer to not hang out with:
“Schlemiel! Schlimazel! Hasenpfeffer Incorporated!”
Translation:
“An inept, clumsy person! A chronically unlucky person! A German stew made from marinated rabbit!”
I’m not sure where the “Incorporated!” plays into it, but you get the picture.
My tastebud's translation on the whole beer scene: there is no taste, no body, might as swill water flavored with alcohol.
That is until I was introduced to craft beer maker Pyramid Brewery in Seattle and had my first taste of Pyramid’s Apricot Weizen.
It was love at first sip.
Lovely, not too sweet, with just enough apricot for my tastebuds to take notice.
And I had a revelation.
All beers and brew masters are not created equal.
Craft beer makers, like Pyramid, are artisans who are small, independent, and adhere to traditional brewing methods and ingredients. On a personal tour of Pyramid's brewery in Seattle I learned that taste is Pyramid's ultimate pursuit and they don’t cut corners on the process or the ingredients.
Pyramid’s flagship beer, Hefe Weizen, is a wheat beer brewed with two-row barley, wheat, and caramel. It’s an unfiltered beer true to the hefe weizen style which means your eyeballs will notice some cloudiness in the liquid, but your tastebuds will benefit from the flavor of the yeast left in the beer.
Even when a style of beer calls for filtration Pyramid filters only once to catch lingering solids.
Beer making is an art and a science. Lean too much to the science side of beer making and the result is the mass-produced, colorless, mostly tasteless liquid that the majority of Americans call beer because their palates don’t know the difference.
These beer makers use less expensive adjunct grains like corn and rice which add no flavor and serve only to sugar and thin the beer. In addition, multiple filtrations leave the beverage with coloring more akin to water than beer.
Some historians speculate that before mankind learned to bake bread we had mastered beer.
Smart bunch we are. Except it’s taken a very long time, domestically that is, to learn to make it tasty.
But we’re catching on.
Craft brewers’ supermarket sales increased 17.8% in 2006 while large domestic breweries sales continued to lag behind a 2004 peak. The total craft beer market increased by 12% in 2006.
Pyramid Breweries is a leader of the craft brewer's pack and there's a reason.
Their brews make your taste buds dance.
Mazal tov to us all.
This recipe combines the best of both worlds -- beer used in bread making.
Beer Batter Bread
3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons firmly packed light brown sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 bottle beer, unopened and at room temperature
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus extra for greasing
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Grease 9x5 inch loaf pan.
In a bowl, stir together the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, and salt. Open the beer and add it all at once; it will foam up. Stir briskly just until combined, about 20 strokes. The batter should be slightly lumpy. Pour into the prepared loaf pan and drizzle the melted butter.
Bake until the top is crusty and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean, 35-40 minutes. Let rest in the pan for 5 minutes, then turn the loaf out onto a rack. Serve wam or at room temperature the day it is made. Cut into thick slices and accompany with plenty of butter.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
- From "Bread" published by Williams-Sonoma.
- I used a bottle of Pyramid's Apricot Weizen which imparted its lovely apricot flavor to the bread.
Why bother, I always thought, especially after watching the “Laverne and Shirley” television show as a teenager.
Laverne and Shirley were bottle cappers at the fictional Shotz brewery in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
This Yiddish hop-scotch ditty from the show’s opening scene forever cemented in my mind that beer makers and beer drinkers were a crowd that perhaps I’d prefer to not hang out with:
“Schlemiel! Schlimazel! Hasenpfeffer Incorporated!”
Translation:
“An inept, clumsy person! A chronically unlucky person! A German stew made from marinated rabbit!”
I’m not sure where the “Incorporated!” plays into it, but you get the picture.
My tastebud's translation on the whole beer scene: there is no taste, no body, might as swill water flavored with alcohol.
That is until I was introduced to craft beer maker Pyramid Brewery in Seattle and had my first taste of Pyramid’s Apricot Weizen.
It was love at first sip.
Lovely, not too sweet, with just enough apricot for my tastebuds to take notice.
And I had a revelation.
All beers and brew masters are not created equal.
Craft beer makers, like Pyramid, are artisans who are small, independent, and adhere to traditional brewing methods and ingredients. On a personal tour of Pyramid's brewery in Seattle I learned that taste is Pyramid's ultimate pursuit and they don’t cut corners on the process or the ingredients.
Pyramid’s flagship beer, Hefe Weizen, is a wheat beer brewed with two-row barley, wheat, and caramel. It’s an unfiltered beer true to the hefe weizen style which means your eyeballs will notice some cloudiness in the liquid, but your tastebuds will benefit from the flavor of the yeast left in the beer.
Even when a style of beer calls for filtration Pyramid filters only once to catch lingering solids.
Beer making is an art and a science. Lean too much to the science side of beer making and the result is the mass-produced, colorless, mostly tasteless liquid that the majority of Americans call beer because their palates don’t know the difference.
These beer makers use less expensive adjunct grains like corn and rice which add no flavor and serve only to sugar and thin the beer. In addition, multiple filtrations leave the beverage with coloring more akin to water than beer.
Some historians speculate that before mankind learned to bake bread we had mastered beer.
Smart bunch we are. Except it’s taken a very long time, domestically that is, to learn to make it tasty.
But we’re catching on.
Craft brewers’ supermarket sales increased 17.8% in 2006 while large domestic breweries sales continued to lag behind a 2004 peak. The total craft beer market increased by 12% in 2006.
Pyramid Breweries is a leader of the craft brewer's pack and there's a reason.
Their brews make your taste buds dance.
Mazal tov to us all.
This recipe combines the best of both worlds -- beer used in bread making.
Beer Batter Bread
3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons firmly packed light brown sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 bottle beer, unopened and at room temperature
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus extra for greasing
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Grease 9x5 inch loaf pan.
In a bowl, stir together the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, and salt. Open the beer and add it all at once; it will foam up. Stir briskly just until combined, about 20 strokes. The batter should be slightly lumpy. Pour into the prepared loaf pan and drizzle the melted butter.
Bake until the top is crusty and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean, 35-40 minutes. Let rest in the pan for 5 minutes, then turn the loaf out onto a rack. Serve wam or at room temperature the day it is made. Cut into thick slices and accompany with plenty of butter.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
- From "Bread" published by Williams-Sonoma.
- I used a bottle of Pyramid's Apricot Weizen which imparted its lovely apricot flavor to the bread.
Posted at 07:36 AM
Wed - September 26, 2007
Dancing With Marinated and Grilled Pork Filet
Hello. My name is Sandra and I’m a
“Dancing With The Stars”
addict.
Even before local-boy, uh, risk-taking entrepreneur and billionaire, as he was described on the show last night, Mark Cuban, made his debut.
Just for the record, I don’t tape it, record it, Tivo it, or otherwise plan my social calendar around it, but I will make a point to read the next day Internet reviews and get the lowdown from my mother should I miss an episode.
It’s a perplexing complex because those who know me well know that I rarely watch TV, though Saturday afternoon PBS cooking shows do catch my eye.
So why “Dancing With The Stars”?
Good question. I’ve asked myself that too.
Maybe it’s the beauty of the dance; the costumes, the rhythm, the creativity of the choreography set to music.
I spontaneously clapped approval following one performance last night.
Glad I was alone; I felt like a nerd.
My fascination with the show goes beyond the fun of the performance for me. It’s the intrigue of watching successful people journey through a challenge completely foreign to how they gained their fame and fortune.
While many contestants make it look effortless, ballroom dancing is not an easy challenge.
But they ante up in front of millions of viewers on live television and pour themselves into the task just for the thrill of it.
It’s a nice parallel to how I want to live my life; ante up and give it all I have.
And when I take the occasional break from chasing my own dreams I like to watch others chasing theirs.
Dance, Mark, dance.
Grilled Marinated Pork Filet
I couldn’t think of clever (or polite) tie-in with this pork recipe and “Dancing With the Stars,” other than to say it’s what I had for dinner and it’s worth sharing.
1 small piece of ginger, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch pieces (1 1/2 teaspoons)
1 clove garlic peeled
1 tablespoon honey
1 piece jalapeno pepper, size depending on your tolerance for hotness (from 1 tablespoon to 1/4 cup)
2 tablespoons nuoc mam, or fish sauce
3 tablespoons water
1 large pork filet (about 1 1/2 pounds), trimmed of all fat and silver skin
1 teaspoon canola oil
1. Place all the marinade ingredients in the bowl of a food processor and process until pureed. Pour the marinade into a plastic food bag, and add the trimmed pork fillet. Seal the bag tightly, and shake it until the meat is well coated with the marinade. Refrigerate for at least 2 and up to 8 hours.
2. About 30 minutes before cooking time, heat grill until it is hot. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees.
3. Remove the pork filet from the marinade, and reserve the marinade in an ovenproof skillet or metal gratin dish. Sprinkle the fillet with the oil, and place it on the hot grill. Cook, covered about 6 minutes, then turn the filet over. Cook, covered for 6 minutes on the second side, until the meat is nicely grilled on all sides.
4. Bring the reserved marinade to a boil on top of the stove. Return the meat to the marinade and place it in 200-degree oven for at least 10 minutes but as long as 40 minutes to rest. Slice the filet, and serve it with some of the juices.
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
• Recipe is from “Jacques Pepin’s Kitchen: Encore with Claudine”.
• I substituted molasses for honey. Who knows what happened to my honey jar.
• I used center cut pork chops and didn’t return them to the marinade after grilling. It was tasty and quick.
• I will give this recipe another try, this time with the whole filet and time in the oven.
• I served it with a kale side dish.
Even before local-boy, uh, risk-taking entrepreneur and billionaire, as he was described on the show last night, Mark Cuban, made his debut.
Just for the record, I don’t tape it, record it, Tivo it, or otherwise plan my social calendar around it, but I will make a point to read the next day Internet reviews and get the lowdown from my mother should I miss an episode.
It’s a perplexing complex because those who know me well know that I rarely watch TV, though Saturday afternoon PBS cooking shows do catch my eye.
So why “Dancing With The Stars”?
Good question. I’ve asked myself that too.
Maybe it’s the beauty of the dance; the costumes, the rhythm, the creativity of the choreography set to music.
I spontaneously clapped approval following one performance last night.
Glad I was alone; I felt like a nerd.
My fascination with the show goes beyond the fun of the performance for me. It’s the intrigue of watching successful people journey through a challenge completely foreign to how they gained their fame and fortune.
While many contestants make it look effortless, ballroom dancing is not an easy challenge.
But they ante up in front of millions of viewers on live television and pour themselves into the task just for the thrill of it.
It’s a nice parallel to how I want to live my life; ante up and give it all I have.
And when I take the occasional break from chasing my own dreams I like to watch others chasing theirs.
Dance, Mark, dance.
Grilled Marinated Pork Filet
I couldn’t think of clever (or polite) tie-in with this pork recipe and “Dancing With the Stars,” other than to say it’s what I had for dinner and it’s worth sharing.
1 small piece of ginger, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch pieces (1 1/2 teaspoons)
1 clove garlic peeled
1 tablespoon honey
1 piece jalapeno pepper, size depending on your tolerance for hotness (from 1 tablespoon to 1/4 cup)
2 tablespoons nuoc mam, or fish sauce
3 tablespoons water
1 large pork filet (about 1 1/2 pounds), trimmed of all fat and silver skin
1 teaspoon canola oil
1. Place all the marinade ingredients in the bowl of a food processor and process until pureed. Pour the marinade into a plastic food bag, and add the trimmed pork fillet. Seal the bag tightly, and shake it until the meat is well coated with the marinade. Refrigerate for at least 2 and up to 8 hours.
2. About 30 minutes before cooking time, heat grill until it is hot. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees.
3. Remove the pork filet from the marinade, and reserve the marinade in an ovenproof skillet or metal gratin dish. Sprinkle the fillet with the oil, and place it on the hot grill. Cook, covered about 6 minutes, then turn the filet over. Cook, covered for 6 minutes on the second side, until the meat is nicely grilled on all sides.
4. Bring the reserved marinade to a boil on top of the stove. Return the meat to the marinade and place it in 200-degree oven for at least 10 minutes but as long as 40 minutes to rest. Slice the filet, and serve it with some of the juices.
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
• Recipe is from “Jacques Pepin’s Kitchen: Encore with Claudine”.
• I substituted molasses for honey. Who knows what happened to my honey jar.
• I used center cut pork chops and didn’t return them to the marinade after grilling. It was tasty and quick.
• I will give this recipe another try, this time with the whole filet and time in the oven.
• I served it with a kale side dish.
Posted at 10:19 AM
Sun - September 23, 2007
Sitting Solo At The Community Technology Table
I can count on one hand, one finger actually, the
number of times I’ve gone to the movies by myself. I have never been a
go-to-the-movies-by-myself kind of
girl.
However, I need both my hands and feet including a set of yours to count how many meals I’ve eaten by myself mostly as a solo business traveler.
So what’s a girl to do at supper time when she's alone on the road?
Venture out; there’s an adventure to be had, I say.
But that’s me.
For the not so bold at heart there’s “iTASTE,” the brainchild of the Grand Hyatt DFW.
ITASTE delivers a guided cheese, wine, or chocolate tasting for a solo guest using podcast technology; an iPod loaded with a video specific to their tasting choice is delivered to the guest along with the tasting tray.
Seated at a community table for the tasting in MOKA, the hotel’s Epicurean Boutique/Uber Coffee Bar, chances are that solo guests may not be solo for long.
Community tables are a growing trend in the American dining landscape and rightfully so. In a culture that leans more towards isolation than community, people are hungry (no pun intended) for ways to connect.
Kudos to the Grand Hyatt DFW for the thoughtful blend of technology and hospitality in a hotel where the average stay is a single night or two.
The experience isn’t perfect yet. I found myself wanting more information about the products presented, and I was a bit distracted by my virtual video host whose flickering eyes betrayed his dependence on cue cards.
But the vision is solid and iTASTE is the perfect virtual companion to beckon intrepid travelers from their lonely hotel rooms or to entertain travelers looking for adventure on a layover at DFW Airport.
No need to have an airplane ticket in hand at DFW to experience iTASTE.
The hotel is accessible without going through security at Terminal D so locals can give iTASTE a spin. And there’s nothing wrong with taking a handful of friends with you.
One of my favorite winemaker’s Sauvignon Blanc, Benziger, is included in the wine tasting so I’ll be headed back there soon with friends in tow.
As for the movies - I'll consider going by myself when my iPod can share a bag of popcorn with me.
However, I need both my hands and feet including a set of yours to count how many meals I’ve eaten by myself mostly as a solo business traveler.
So what’s a girl to do at supper time when she's alone on the road?
Venture out; there’s an adventure to be had, I say.
But that’s me.
For the not so bold at heart there’s “iTASTE,” the brainchild of the Grand Hyatt DFW.
ITASTE delivers a guided cheese, wine, or chocolate tasting for a solo guest using podcast technology; an iPod loaded with a video specific to their tasting choice is delivered to the guest along with the tasting tray.
Seated at a community table for the tasting in MOKA, the hotel’s Epicurean Boutique/Uber Coffee Bar, chances are that solo guests may not be solo for long.
Community tables are a growing trend in the American dining landscape and rightfully so. In a culture that leans more towards isolation than community, people are hungry (no pun intended) for ways to connect.
Kudos to the Grand Hyatt DFW for the thoughtful blend of technology and hospitality in a hotel where the average stay is a single night or two.
The experience isn’t perfect yet. I found myself wanting more information about the products presented, and I was a bit distracted by my virtual video host whose flickering eyes betrayed his dependence on cue cards.
But the vision is solid and iTASTE is the perfect virtual companion to beckon intrepid travelers from their lonely hotel rooms or to entertain travelers looking for adventure on a layover at DFW Airport.
No need to have an airplane ticket in hand at DFW to experience iTASTE.
The hotel is accessible without going through security at Terminal D so locals can give iTASTE a spin. And there’s nothing wrong with taking a handful of friends with you.
One of my favorite winemaker’s Sauvignon Blanc, Benziger, is included in the wine tasting so I’ll be headed back there soon with friends in tow.
As for the movies - I'll consider going by myself when my iPod can share a bag of popcorn with me.
Posted at 09:10 PM Read More
Fri - September 14, 2007
Slow Food In A Fast World - An Internet/Television Broadcast Concept
Riding in the car with my mother when she was
four-years-old, Hannah, my youngest daughter now 19, posed a question that
started a conversation that’s become a classic and retold at family
gatherings over the years.
She was an observant kid and noticed some new construction not far from our home.
“Grandma, what’s that going to be?”
“That’s going to be a fast-food place,” answered my mother who didn’t name the national chain.
Hannah thought for a moment and replied, “Oh, I can’t eat there.”
This statement stumped my mother who then inquired of Hannah, “Why not?”
“I can’t eat fast,” came the innocent reply.
There’s a lot to be said about the wisdom of children.
Despite a culture that values harelike speed and where Americans consume 24% of their meals in the car, the race isn’t won by the swift especially when it comes to food, nutrition, and health.
You read and hear about it every day now: obesity, high-cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, and yes, depression, are just a few of the ailments typically associated with diets that are filled with highly processed, high calorie, nutritionally deficient fast food.
It’s a paradox: the food that we need to sustain us is also killing us due to our lack of knowledge, bad choices, and slavery to clever marketing.
But there is an alternative and I have a vision for the message: "Slow Food In A Fast World," an Internet/television broadcast concept produced by Life At The Table. Click on the movie camera above, the picture below to see a demo.
You can also watch it on YouTube by clicking here.
"Slow Food In A Fast World," guides viewers on a journey to good food, great tastes, and talented chefs.
More importantly, "Slow Food In A Fast World" peers behind the veil that separates modern society from it's food source to introduce viewers to local food producers and food artisans who produce food in ways that is good for the consumer and the environment.
Each episode will feature a "local" ingredient, "local" producer, and a "local" chef who prepares a delectable dish with the ingredient to demonstrate how easy the viewer could do it at home.
Even a burger isn’t a bad thing when quality beef is used, it’s cooked at home, eaten occasionally, and when flanked by a diet rich with freshly prepared fruits and vegetables.
More of us should see the world of food through the eyes of four-year-old child.
Sandra's Notes:
Interested in sponsoring or distributing “Slow Food In A Fast World”? Email me at the "Feedback" link below.
She was an observant kid and noticed some new construction not far from our home.
“Grandma, what’s that going to be?”
“That’s going to be a fast-food place,” answered my mother who didn’t name the national chain.
Hannah thought for a moment and replied, “Oh, I can’t eat there.”
This statement stumped my mother who then inquired of Hannah, “Why not?”
“I can’t eat fast,” came the innocent reply.
There’s a lot to be said about the wisdom of children.
Despite a culture that values harelike speed and where Americans consume 24% of their meals in the car, the race isn’t won by the swift especially when it comes to food, nutrition, and health.
You read and hear about it every day now: obesity, high-cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, and yes, depression, are just a few of the ailments typically associated with diets that are filled with highly processed, high calorie, nutritionally deficient fast food.
It’s a paradox: the food that we need to sustain us is also killing us due to our lack of knowledge, bad choices, and slavery to clever marketing.
But there is an alternative and I have a vision for the message: "Slow Food In A Fast World," an Internet/television broadcast concept produced by Life At The Table. Click on the movie camera above, the picture below to see a demo.
You can also watch it on YouTube by clicking here.
"Slow Food In A Fast World," guides viewers on a journey to good food, great tastes, and talented chefs.
More importantly, "Slow Food In A Fast World" peers behind the veil that separates modern society from it's food source to introduce viewers to local food producers and food artisans who produce food in ways that is good for the consumer and the environment.
Each episode will feature a "local" ingredient, "local" producer, and a "local" chef who prepares a delectable dish with the ingredient to demonstrate how easy the viewer could do it at home.
Even a burger isn’t a bad thing when quality beef is used, it’s cooked at home, eaten occasionally, and when flanked by a diet rich with freshly prepared fruits and vegetables.
More of us should see the world of food through the eyes of four-year-old child.
Sandra's Notes:
Interested in sponsoring or distributing “Slow Food In A Fast World”? Email me at the "Feedback" link below.
Posted at 02:01 AM
Tue - August 7, 2007
Twilight Peach Crisp
It’s early August and just as the summer
heat is upon us it’s the twilight of the peach season in
Texas.
While some orchards have closed, one local grower has a variety that they’re picking through August 9th so it’s not sunset yet on one of my favorite summer treats.
I didn’t hesitate when my neighbor Phil offered some of his peach bounty to me a couple of weeks ago.
Seems his next-door neighbor had a peach tree dripping with fruit, but she had no matching inclination to pick them. Phil relieved the heavy-laden tree of its burden, with his neighbor’s blessing of course, and snagged at least a half-bushel worth of luscious peaches. He used his RV as a makeshift ladder since many of the trees branches were already drooping over on Phil’s side of the fence.
Peach cobbler was my first thought. It would be a fitting end to a dinner with friends who had offered to help me with a garden project.
But with not enough daylight left for the more time-consuming-cobbler-which-means-a-crust-of-some-sort, I opted instead for the fruit-crisp-recipe-with-the-truly-easy-brown-sugar-and-butter-topping approach.
I washed and cut the peaches and easily separated the pit from the flesh. The fruit was beautiful with more of a white flesh than I’ve seen on most peaches.
While I wasn’t sure how well the peaches would accommodate the brown sugar and butter topping with barely a spoonful or two of crisp left, I’d say my guests and their tastebuds approved.
This recipe may be end of life as far as peaches go this season, but consider it a head start for fall apples.
And, remember it next year as the sun rises on the May 2008 peach season.
Fresh Fruit Crisp
6 cups sliced apples, peaches, nectarines, pears, plums, or apricots
1 teaspoon cinnamon, if desired
1 tablespoon water
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup butter
Heat oven to 375 degrees. Place fruit in 2-quart casserole. Sprinkle with cinnamon, water, and lemon juice. Lightly spoon flour into measuring cup, level off. In large bowl, combine remaining ingredients; mix with pastry blender or fork until crumbly. Sprinkle crumb mixture evenly over fruit. Bake at 375 degrees for 25 to 35 minutes or until fruit is tender and topping is golden brown. Serve warm with ice cream or whipped cream, if desired.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
- This recipe comes from "Sweet and Easy," a 1986 Pillsbury cookbook, the kind that you pick up while you're in the grocery checkout line. I have a stack of these books that I've collected over the years and have enjoyed them even though I rarely buy them now.
While some orchards have closed, one local grower has a variety that they’re picking through August 9th so it’s not sunset yet on one of my favorite summer treats.
I didn’t hesitate when my neighbor Phil offered some of his peach bounty to me a couple of weeks ago.
Seems his next-door neighbor had a peach tree dripping with fruit, but she had no matching inclination to pick them. Phil relieved the heavy-laden tree of its burden, with his neighbor’s blessing of course, and snagged at least a half-bushel worth of luscious peaches. He used his RV as a makeshift ladder since many of the trees branches were already drooping over on Phil’s side of the fence.
Peach cobbler was my first thought. It would be a fitting end to a dinner with friends who had offered to help me with a garden project.
But with not enough daylight left for the more time-consuming-cobbler-which-means-a-crust-of-some-sort, I opted instead for the fruit-crisp-recipe-with-the-truly-easy-brown-sugar-and-butter-topping approach.
I washed and cut the peaches and easily separated the pit from the flesh. The fruit was beautiful with more of a white flesh than I’ve seen on most peaches.
While I wasn’t sure how well the peaches would accommodate the brown sugar and butter topping with barely a spoonful or two of crisp left, I’d say my guests and their tastebuds approved.
This recipe may be end of life as far as peaches go this season, but consider it a head start for fall apples.
And, remember it next year as the sun rises on the May 2008 peach season.
Fresh Fruit Crisp
6 cups sliced apples, peaches, nectarines, pears, plums, or apricots
1 teaspoon cinnamon, if desired
1 tablespoon water
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup butter
Heat oven to 375 degrees. Place fruit in 2-quart casserole. Sprinkle with cinnamon, water, and lemon juice. Lightly spoon flour into measuring cup, level off. In large bowl, combine remaining ingredients; mix with pastry blender or fork until crumbly. Sprinkle crumb mixture evenly over fruit. Bake at 375 degrees for 25 to 35 minutes or until fruit is tender and topping is golden brown. Serve warm with ice cream or whipped cream, if desired.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
- This recipe comes from "Sweet and Easy," a 1986 Pillsbury cookbook, the kind that you pick up while you're in the grocery checkout line. I have a stack of these books that I've collected over the years and have enjoyed them even though I rarely buy them now.
Posted at 07:05 AM Read More
Mon - July 16, 2007
Open Your Eyes and Tastebuds to the Tomatillo
Mexican is the cuisine I crave the most, but cook
the least.
I offer no explanation for this contradictory behavior other than I have grown up in and still nest in the middle of Tex-Mex heaven where Mexican restaurants are almost as proliferous as Starbuck’s stores in San Francisco where there’s one on every corner.
But a simple, green, tart, and somewhat mysterious fruit which nature lovingly wraps in a paper-like casing has changed my behavior.
It’s the tomatillo (toe-ma-tea-o), also known as the Mexican tomato, husk tomato, jamberry, or ground cherry.
It’s a cousin to the tomato (yes, the tomato is also botanically a fruit, but declared a vegetable by the Supreme Court in 1893 so it could be taxed) and its name means “little tomato” in Spanish.
You’ve seen it. It’s usually snuggled close to the tomatoes in the grocery store.
You’ve eaten it. It's the primary ingredient in salsa verde.
You’ve probably ignored it.
And so did I until I discovered how effortless it is to make homemade tomatillo sauce (aka salsa verde) and how absolutely delighted my tastebuds were that I did so.
That’s what I’m about: good food that tastes fantastic and is easy to make. It’s not that I’m unwilling to knock myself out in the kitchen. I just like it when I don’t and it tastes like I did.
I serve my tomatillo sauce with chips and salsa, over homemade chicken enchiladas, and fried eggs.
Quick-Cooked Tomatillo-Chile Sauce
1 pound (11 medium) fresh tomatillos, husked and washed; OR two 13-ounce cans tomatillos, drained
2 jalapeno chilies stemmed
5 or 6 sprigs cilantro roughly chopped
1 small onion chopped
1 large garlic clove, peeled and roughly chopped
1 tablespoon lard or vegetable oil
2 cups any poultry broth
Salt (about 1/2 teaspoon depending on the saltiness of the broth)
1. Boil the fresh tomatillos and chiles in salted water to cover until tender, 10-15 minutes; drain. Simply drain canned tomatillos.
2. Place the tomatillos and chiles in a blender or food processor, along with the coriander, onion, and garlic. Process until smooth, but still retaining a little texture.
3. Heat the lard or vegetable oil in a medium-large skillet set over medium-high. When hot enough to make a drop of the purre sizzle sharply, pour it in all at once and stir constantly for 4 or 5 minutes, until darker and thicker. Add the broth, let return to a boil, reduce the heat to medium and simmer until thich enough to coat a spoon, about 10 minutes. Season with salt.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
- From "Authentic Mexican" by Rick Bayless.
I offer no explanation for this contradictory behavior other than I have grown up in and still nest in the middle of Tex-Mex heaven where Mexican restaurants are almost as proliferous as Starbuck’s stores in San Francisco where there’s one on every corner.
But a simple, green, tart, and somewhat mysterious fruit which nature lovingly wraps in a paper-like casing has changed my behavior.
It’s the tomatillo (toe-ma-tea-o), also known as the Mexican tomato, husk tomato, jamberry, or ground cherry.
It’s a cousin to the tomato (yes, the tomato is also botanically a fruit, but declared a vegetable by the Supreme Court in 1893 so it could be taxed) and its name means “little tomato” in Spanish.
You’ve seen it. It’s usually snuggled close to the tomatoes in the grocery store.
You’ve eaten it. It's the primary ingredient in salsa verde.
You’ve probably ignored it.
And so did I until I discovered how effortless it is to make homemade tomatillo sauce (aka salsa verde) and how absolutely delighted my tastebuds were that I did so.
That’s what I’m about: good food that tastes fantastic and is easy to make. It’s not that I’m unwilling to knock myself out in the kitchen. I just like it when I don’t and it tastes like I did.
I serve my tomatillo sauce with chips and salsa, over homemade chicken enchiladas, and fried eggs.
Quick-Cooked Tomatillo-Chile Sauce
1 pound (11 medium) fresh tomatillos, husked and washed; OR two 13-ounce cans tomatillos, drained
2 jalapeno chilies stemmed
5 or 6 sprigs cilantro roughly chopped
1 small onion chopped
1 large garlic clove, peeled and roughly chopped
1 tablespoon lard or vegetable oil
2 cups any poultry broth
Salt (about 1/2 teaspoon depending on the saltiness of the broth)
1. Boil the fresh tomatillos and chiles in salted water to cover until tender, 10-15 minutes; drain. Simply drain canned tomatillos.
2. Place the tomatillos and chiles in a blender or food processor, along with the coriander, onion, and garlic. Process until smooth, but still retaining a little texture.
3. Heat the lard or vegetable oil in a medium-large skillet set over medium-high. When hot enough to make a drop of the purre sizzle sharply, pour it in all at once and stir constantly for 4 or 5 minutes, until darker and thicker. Add the broth, let return to a boil, reduce the heat to medium and simmer until thich enough to coat a spoon, about 10 minutes. Season with salt.
Sandra's Cooking Notes:
- From "Authentic Mexican" by Rick Bayless.
Posted at 11:00 AM Read More
Thu - July 5, 2007
A Taste of Freedom
On the early morning of July 4th my cargo
included more than 200 patriotically-decorated cookies and cupcakes; my mission
was to deliver them to DFW's USO center for troops redeploying back to Iraq and
Afghanistan after I greeted the troops just
arriving.
It was a match made in heaven.
I had volunteered to greet the troops with a group from my church; Celebrity Cafe and Bakery had volunteered to donate the treats.
As the clock ticked closer to arrival time, the crowd surged to numbers beyond my ability to estimate accurately, maybe 700, and it was a party atmosphere. Terminal D was swimming in a sea of red, white, and blue posters, signs, shirts, shorts, hats, and excitement.
There were a handful of family members present.
But most were people like me who woke up early on a day typically designated for sleeping in to join with a crowd of people I didn’t know to welcome home men and women who didn’t know me.
It was “indivisible” in action at its best.
We waited patiently, but were so anxious to celebrate that we cheered a flight attendant who exited just before the troops.
When the first of 120 soldiers did cross the threshold of the International Arrivals door a din of noise rose with cheers, whoops, hollers, and whistles began that lasted with the same energy and fervor until the last soldier had passed through the crowd.
Although they deserved the same recognition, there was no hoopla or clamoring crowds in Terminal B where the troops were gathering for redeployment.
They’d been home for two weeks and, as I learned from chatting with a handful of soldiers, it’s tough leaving family and friends especially on a national holiday even with a sendoff that included a banjo-playing Grandpa-type, a BBQ lunch with all the fixings, and sweets from Celebrity Bakery that I had successfully delivered.
With my mission completed, I was free to go.
I left with a feeling of deep thankfulness for the men and women who are willing to go, for those that have gone before, and especially for those who never made it home.
Yes, I am thankful from the very bottom to the top of my red, white, and blue heart for the freedom and the liberty they have given me.
And thanks to Celebrity Cafe and Bakery for the reminder of how good it tastes to be free.
Sandra's Notes:
- Celebrity Bakery is offering a "two for one" offer for any of their "red, white, and blue" treats during the month of July for all military personnel. Show your military ID at any of their locations to receive a two for one.
It was a match made in heaven.
I had volunteered to greet the troops with a group from my church; Celebrity Cafe and Bakery had volunteered to donate the treats.
As the clock ticked closer to arrival time, the crowd surged to numbers beyond my ability to estimate accurately, maybe 700, and it was a party atmosphere. Terminal D was swimming in a sea of red, white, and blue posters, signs, shirts, shorts, hats, and excitement.
There were a handful of family members present.
But most were people like me who woke up early on a day typically designated for sleeping in to join with a crowd of people I didn’t know to welcome home men and women who didn’t know me.
It was “indivisible” in action at its best.
We waited patiently, but were so anxious to celebrate that we cheered a flight attendant who exited just before the troops.
When the first of 120 soldiers did cross the threshold of the International Arrivals door a din of noise rose with cheers, whoops, hollers, and whistles began that lasted with the same energy and fervor until the last soldier had passed through the crowd.
Although they deserved the same recognition, there was no hoopla or clamoring crowds in Terminal B where the troops were gathering for redeployment.
They’d been home for two weeks and, as I learned from chatting with a handful of soldiers, it’s tough leaving family and friends especially on a national holiday even with a sendoff that included a banjo-playing Grandpa-type, a BBQ lunch with all the fixings, and sweets from Celebrity Bakery that I had successfully delivered.
With my mission completed, I was free to go.
I left with a feeling of deep thankfulness for the men and women who are willing to go, for those that have gone before, and especially for those who never made it home.
Yes, I am thankful from the very bottom to the top of my red, white, and blue heart for the freedom and the liberty they have given me.
And thanks to Celebrity Cafe and Bakery for the reminder of how good it tastes to be free.
Sandra's Notes:
- Celebrity Bakery is offering a "two for one" offer for any of their "red, white, and blue" treats during the month of July for all military personnel. Show your military ID at any of their locations to receive a two for one.
Posted at 01:27 PM Read More
Thu - June 28, 2007
Fearing's Cowboy Shrimp on White Corn Grits
It was bare concrete and a bit dusty on my first
visit, but, oh, the vision of what’s to
come.
It is "Fearing's" and the mastermind behind the vision, Dean Fearing, stepped lively and spoke passionately about his venture on a recent hard-hat tour of the restaurant's space in the Ritz-Carlton Dallas.
Fearing has created four unique dining areas in one. Depending on your mood, whim, or what suits your fancy on any given evening you can dress up, dress down, dine inside or out, or just mosey on in for a drink and rest your weary elbows on the rattlesnake bar. Each of the dining areas will be served from the same menu so there are no worries about missing out.
I interviewed Dean about his new gig; he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him and oozes enthusiasm. Watch the interview here.
Anticipated opening for Fearing's and The Riz-Carlton Dallas is Summer 2007. I'm looking forward to crossing the threshold again and seeing the vision that has sprung to life.
In anticipation of some fantastic food at Fearing's,I gave it a go with Dean’s “Cowboy Shrimp on White Corn Grits” recipe. It’s a two thumbs-up dish; exploding with flavor. It’s a company-worthy, yet simple enough to consider for a weeknight entree.
Cowboy Shrimp On White Corn Grits
3 tablespoons olive oil
8 shrimp (1015 size) peeled and deveined
2 tablespoons garlic, minced
1/4 cup red onion, minced
2 tablespoons jalapeno, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 cup pinto beans, cooked
1/4 cup chopped tomato
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
1/4 cup crumbled bacon
1/23/4 cup chicken stock
Salt to taste
Lime juice to taste
Tabasco to taste
2 cups creamy white corn grits, cooked according to package directions
Cilantro sprigs for garnish
Heat olive oil in heavy bottom saute pan until hot. Season shrimp with salt. Saute shrimp for approximately 2 minutes. Add garlic, onion, jalapeno, and cumin. Saute 12 minutes additionally then add beans, tomato, cilantro, bacon, and stock. Simmer until shrimp are cooked then season with salt, lime juice, and Tabasco.
Spoon 1/41/3 cup cooked grits in center of plate. Place 2 shrimp on top of the grits. Spoon sauce over shrimp and garnish with cilantro sprig.
Serves 4
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
- I used smaller shrimp than the recipe calls for; it’s what I had on hand.
- I used yellow corn grits instead of white. I grew up in Texas and have eaten white grits my entire life. I thought the yellow grits, also organic, was a nice change of pace.
- Don't be afraid of substitutions.
It is "Fearing's" and the mastermind behind the vision, Dean Fearing, stepped lively and spoke passionately about his venture on a recent hard-hat tour of the restaurant's space in the Ritz-Carlton Dallas.
Fearing has created four unique dining areas in one. Depending on your mood, whim, or what suits your fancy on any given evening you can dress up, dress down, dine inside or out, or just mosey on in for a drink and rest your weary elbows on the rattlesnake bar. Each of the dining areas will be served from the same menu so there are no worries about missing out.
I interviewed Dean about his new gig; he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him and oozes enthusiasm. Watch the interview here.
Anticipated opening for Fearing's and The Riz-Carlton Dallas is Summer 2007. I'm looking forward to crossing the threshold again and seeing the vision that has sprung to life.
In anticipation of some fantastic food at Fearing's,I gave it a go with Dean’s “Cowboy Shrimp on White Corn Grits” recipe. It’s a two thumbs-up dish; exploding with flavor. It’s a company-worthy, yet simple enough to consider for a weeknight entree.
Cowboy Shrimp On White Corn Grits
3 tablespoons olive oil
8 shrimp (1015 size) peeled and deveined
2 tablespoons garlic, minced
1/4 cup red onion, minced
2 tablespoons jalapeno, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 cup pinto beans, cooked
1/4 cup chopped tomato
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
1/4 cup crumbled bacon
1/23/4 cup chicken stock
Salt to taste
Lime juice to taste
Tabasco to taste
2 cups creamy white corn grits, cooked according to package directions
Cilantro sprigs for garnish
Heat olive oil in heavy bottom saute pan until hot. Season shrimp with salt. Saute shrimp for approximately 2 minutes. Add garlic, onion, jalapeno, and cumin. Saute 12 minutes additionally then add beans, tomato, cilantro, bacon, and stock. Simmer until shrimp are cooked then season with salt, lime juice, and Tabasco.
Spoon 1/41/3 cup cooked grits in center of plate. Place 2 shrimp on top of the grits. Spoon sauce over shrimp and garnish with cilantro sprig.
Serves 4
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
- I used smaller shrimp than the recipe calls for; it’s what I had on hand.
- I used yellow corn grits instead of white. I grew up in Texas and have eaten white grits my entire life. I thought the yellow grits, also organic, was a nice change of pace.
- Don't be afraid of substitutions.
Posted at 06:15 AM Read More
Mon - June 25, 2007
Mission Accomplished in Mt. Pleasant
Despite the torrent of rain that fell a week ago
Saturday I made my way to Mt. Pleasant, Texas, for the Smoky-Eyed BBQ Cookoff
thanks to some gentle chiding by my neighbor
Phil.
“Are you afraid of getting wet?” he asked after I expressed some doubt about attending a BBQ cookoff in the rain.
My first thought was to deny it.
My second was to admit it.
Well, yes, I said. The words stumbled out.
Yes, I am. I was a bit bolder on the second affirmation as I pictured myself totally drenched matched by a plate of equally soggy BBQ.
But there were reasons to go.
Phil was anxious to attend for reconnoiter purposes; he wanted to scope out a competition before he takes his first crack at being a contestant. And I didn’t want to miss out on a chance for all-you-can-eat BBQ .
I came around to the thought that there are worse things in life than getting waterlogged while eating BBQ so Phil’s prodding won out.
Two hours later, Phil, his wife, Marje, my friend Lloyd, and I arrived at the Mt. Pleasant Civic Center, a roofed, open-air facility with a sawdust covered dirt floor that had been transformed into a BBQ bonanza.
With Styrofoam plate, fork, knife, and napkin in hand we entered the fray.
I was grateful for the roof over our heads as we enjoyed our first round of BBQ because the light, very pleasant sprinkle of rain that had greeted us upon arrival and had lulled us into thinking that the worst of the rain was over turned into buckets.
And then I faced a dilemma.
At least half of the contestant booths were in an adjacent, uncovered field. A true sampling of the Smoky-Eyed BBQ cook-off would require that I venture from the cocoon of the covered pavilion.
The rain slowed for a moment. I took this as a sign to grab my umbrella and venture out.
But that which had beckoned me from my covering returned with a vengeance and it rained even harder than it had before.
Although I’ve spent my fair share of time this spring working to rid my yard of weeds the old-fashioned way, one weed at a time, lovingly tugged on till it gives up its grip on my soil, I was very thankful that someone had let them run amok in this Mt. Pleasant field prior to this very rainy day.
Clumps of weeds provided me with natural stepping-stones in the man-made lake that was forming between the open-field booths.
I returned to the pavilion only when my plate could bear no more of its brisket burden, leaping across what was now a small river between the field and the asphalt driveway.
There were 52 brisket contenders in this contest and I intended to taste them all.
Impossible.
When I added a pinch of potato salad here and a bit of pinto beans there, along with a rib or two, to my taste of brisket it was too much.
My stomach begged for mercy long before I had tasted half of the briskets.
It was somewhere in this round of tasting from the water-logged field that I thought I had hit upon the winner. I’ll never know though because I have no idea from whom I received the sample and we left before they announced the winner.
No worries. It was a mission-accomplished kind of day.
I had all the BBQ I could eat (and then some) and Phil got to experience his first BBQ cook off from the easy side of the smoker.
The torrent of rain continued as we left, but I had one more item to tick off my list before departing from this small East Texas town. I made my way back to Bodacious BBQ, my original stopping point for BBQ a couple of weeks prior.
The power was out as the rain had caused an outage at Bodacious and the surrounding area, but I managed to find and buy two more rounds of the best peanut brittle around. They calculated the sale with a hand-held calculator and we were on our way.
Mission accomplished in Mt. Pleasant.
“Are you afraid of getting wet?” he asked after I expressed some doubt about attending a BBQ cookoff in the rain.
My first thought was to deny it.
My second was to admit it.
Well, yes, I said. The words stumbled out.
Yes, I am. I was a bit bolder on the second affirmation as I pictured myself totally drenched matched by a plate of equally soggy BBQ.
But there were reasons to go.
Phil was anxious to attend for reconnoiter purposes; he wanted to scope out a competition before he takes his first crack at being a contestant. And I didn’t want to miss out on a chance for all-you-can-eat BBQ .
I came around to the thought that there are worse things in life than getting waterlogged while eating BBQ so Phil’s prodding won out.
Two hours later, Phil, his wife, Marje, my friend Lloyd, and I arrived at the Mt. Pleasant Civic Center, a roofed, open-air facility with a sawdust covered dirt floor that had been transformed into a BBQ bonanza.
With Styrofoam plate, fork, knife, and napkin in hand we entered the fray.
I was grateful for the roof over our heads as we enjoyed our first round of BBQ because the light, very pleasant sprinkle of rain that had greeted us upon arrival and had lulled us into thinking that the worst of the rain was over turned into buckets.
And then I faced a dilemma.
At least half of the contestant booths were in an adjacent, uncovered field. A true sampling of the Smoky-Eyed BBQ cook-off would require that I venture from the cocoon of the covered pavilion.
The rain slowed for a moment. I took this as a sign to grab my umbrella and venture out.
But that which had beckoned me from my covering returned with a vengeance and it rained even harder than it had before.
Although I’ve spent my fair share of time this spring working to rid my yard of weeds the old-fashioned way, one weed at a time, lovingly tugged on till it gives up its grip on my soil, I was very thankful that someone had let them run amok in this Mt. Pleasant field prior to this very rainy day.
Clumps of weeds provided me with natural stepping-stones in the man-made lake that was forming between the open-field booths.
I returned to the pavilion only when my plate could bear no more of its brisket burden, leaping across what was now a small river between the field and the asphalt driveway.
There were 52 brisket contenders in this contest and I intended to taste them all.
Impossible.
When I added a pinch of potato salad here and a bit of pinto beans there, along with a rib or two, to my taste of brisket it was too much.
My stomach begged for mercy long before I had tasted half of the briskets.
It was somewhere in this round of tasting from the water-logged field that I thought I had hit upon the winner. I’ll never know though because I have no idea from whom I received the sample and we left before they announced the winner.
No worries. It was a mission-accomplished kind of day.
I had all the BBQ I could eat (and then some) and Phil got to experience his first BBQ cook off from the easy side of the smoker.
The torrent of rain continued as we left, but I had one more item to tick off my list before departing from this small East Texas town. I made my way back to Bodacious BBQ, my original stopping point for BBQ a couple of weeks prior.
The power was out as the rain had caused an outage at Bodacious and the surrounding area, but I managed to find and buy two more rounds of the best peanut brittle around. They calculated the sale with a hand-held calculator and we were on our way.
Mission accomplished in Mt. Pleasant.
Posted at 08:12 AM Read More
Tue - June 12, 2007
BBQ: The Last Frontier
A handful of days ago I traveled to Mt.
Pleasant, Texas, for a customer appointment.
The one and a half hour drive was a nice change of pace from my usual, crazy airport-airplane-car-rental-hotel-room-lug-the-suitcase around routine.
With a population of just under 15,000, Mt.Pleasant is definitely one small corner of Texas. I see that many people every day on I-635.
Here's what I like best about small towns and why I was jazzed about this visit: BBQ.
I had done my homework and knew that there were at least two BBQ places that were contenders for a lunchtime visit in Mt. Pleasant. Pat, my easy-going colleague on this journey, didn’t seem to mind that by eight AM and even before my first cup of Starbucks I had our lunch fare identified.
Of course, I let her pick between the two.
Bodacious BBQ it was; an easy choice. It was barely a stone’s throw from our client’s office and he highly recommended it even though he wasn’t able to join us.
It was the early side of lunch when we arrived and with just a couple of other cars in the lot we snagged a parking spot by the front door; thankfully so because we arrived during a gullywasher, one of the many unleashed on North Texas this spring.
We were slightly damp as we wound our way though the food line – most of the sides are made fresh daily on premises at Bodacious Bar-B-Q – and settled in a booth. The place was immaculately clean and tastefully decorated with newspaper clippings of significant happenings, some dating to the early 1900s.
The only other customer in the place at that time struck up a conversation with us after he wondered aloud why I was taking a picture of my food.
It’s a habit, I said.
We chatted off and on throughout the meal with him about the kinds of topics that are easy lanes of conversations between strangers in a small town – the food, where we were from, our reason for being in Mt. Pleasant during this most unpleasant storm, etc.
The brisket, which is the standard by which I judge the quality of all BBQ joints, was a bit on the dry side even with the sauce. So it was a tad disappointing. The sausage, however, was outstanding with a spicy, yet not hot, goodness in every bite. Don’t know where they source it from – wish I did.
And then there was dessert.
As is customary in these types of places, I chose my dessert at the same time I was trying to decide between the ribs and sausage. I picked up a nice chunk of what looked to be homemade peanut brittle. There was no fancy packaging, just a simple, small piece of paper identifying the maker as a small church in Gilmer, Texas.
As a peanut brittle lover, my mom makes it, I couldn’t resist giving it a go.
Crunchy, not chewy, with just the proper amount of stick-to-your-teeth-peanutty-and-sugary goodness. Yes, heavenly.
From the newspaper clippings on the wall, to the fabulous sausage, and the peanut brittle treat, I haven't had a meal in another BBQ place like this one. That is a huge part of the charm and appeal for me.
While the homogenization of the American food scene surges forward with Chili's, Denny's, and Applebee's becoming the Wal-Mart's of the restaurant industry, individually-owned BBQ businesses remain in small towns sprinkled around the states mostly south of the Mason-Dixon line.
BBQ joints like Bodacious may be one of the final mom-and-pop-shop frontiers.
Thankfully so. I would despise the day where my only choice for BBQ would be a deja vu experience of the BBQ place I was in the week before.
So I salute these defenders of individuality and creativity where the BBQ is as unique as each owner's personality. My tastebuds are thankful for the adventure.
My goal is to sample as many of these family-owned oases in Texas as I can in my lifetime.
I’m headed back to Mt. Pleasant June 16th for the Smoky-Eyed BBQ Cook-off benefiting local charities. For just $7 I’ll be able to sample all the BBQ I can eat. Bargain!
Only if, I suppose, I don’t make a stop at Bodacious BBQ and fill up on peanut brittle beforehand.
The one and a half hour drive was a nice change of pace from my usual, crazy airport-airplane-car-rental-hotel-room-lug-the-suitcase around routine.
With a population of just under 15,000, Mt.Pleasant is definitely one small corner of Texas. I see that many people every day on I-635.
Here's what I like best about small towns and why I was jazzed about this visit: BBQ.
I had done my homework and knew that there were at least two BBQ places that were contenders for a lunchtime visit in Mt. Pleasant. Pat, my easy-going colleague on this journey, didn’t seem to mind that by eight AM and even before my first cup of Starbucks I had our lunch fare identified.
Of course, I let her pick between the two.
Bodacious BBQ it was; an easy choice. It was barely a stone’s throw from our client’s office and he highly recommended it even though he wasn’t able to join us.
It was the early side of lunch when we arrived and with just a couple of other cars in the lot we snagged a parking spot by the front door; thankfully so because we arrived during a gullywasher, one of the many unleashed on North Texas this spring.
We were slightly damp as we wound our way though the food line – most of the sides are made fresh daily on premises at Bodacious Bar-B-Q – and settled in a booth. The place was immaculately clean and tastefully decorated with newspaper clippings of significant happenings, some dating to the early 1900s.
The only other customer in the place at that time struck up a conversation with us after he wondered aloud why I was taking a picture of my food.
It’s a habit, I said.
We chatted off and on throughout the meal with him about the kinds of topics that are easy lanes of conversations between strangers in a small town – the food, where we were from, our reason for being in Mt. Pleasant during this most unpleasant storm, etc.
The brisket, which is the standard by which I judge the quality of all BBQ joints, was a bit on the dry side even with the sauce. So it was a tad disappointing. The sausage, however, was outstanding with a spicy, yet not hot, goodness in every bite. Don’t know where they source it from – wish I did.
And then there was dessert.
As is customary in these types of places, I chose my dessert at the same time I was trying to decide between the ribs and sausage. I picked up a nice chunk of what looked to be homemade peanut brittle. There was no fancy packaging, just a simple, small piece of paper identifying the maker as a small church in Gilmer, Texas.
As a peanut brittle lover, my mom makes it, I couldn’t resist giving it a go.
Crunchy, not chewy, with just the proper amount of stick-to-your-teeth-peanutty-and-sugary goodness. Yes, heavenly.
From the newspaper clippings on the wall, to the fabulous sausage, and the peanut brittle treat, I haven't had a meal in another BBQ place like this one. That is a huge part of the charm and appeal for me.
While the homogenization of the American food scene surges forward with Chili's, Denny's, and Applebee's becoming the Wal-Mart's of the restaurant industry, individually-owned BBQ businesses remain in small towns sprinkled around the states mostly south of the Mason-Dixon line.
BBQ joints like Bodacious may be one of the final mom-and-pop-shop frontiers.
Thankfully so. I would despise the day where my only choice for BBQ would be a deja vu experience of the BBQ place I was in the week before.
So I salute these defenders of individuality and creativity where the BBQ is as unique as each owner's personality. My tastebuds are thankful for the adventure.
My goal is to sample as many of these family-owned oases in Texas as I can in my lifetime.
I’m headed back to Mt. Pleasant June 16th for the Smoky-Eyed BBQ Cook-off benefiting local charities. For just $7 I’ll be able to sample all the BBQ I can eat. Bargain!
Only if, I suppose, I don’t make a stop at Bodacious BBQ and fill up on peanut brittle beforehand.
Posted at 06:20 PM Read More
Thu - May 31, 2007
A Pound Cake and A Happy Face
I never had a sweet tooth as kid. This was much
to my mother’s chagrin I’m sure.
She would pour forth as much or more effort on her desserts as the main dish. Sometimes I would indulge in a forkful or two of the ooey gooey sweet ending, but more often than not I would take an extra helping of vegetables or a piece of bread instead.
She was never at a loss for takers though. My older brother began every meal by asking what was for dessert and still does. Some things never change.
Sweets will never rank high on my list of cooking or eating priorities although there is something quite alluring about brownies just out of the oven. So my dessert repertoire is less than stellar. I’m content to throw together some tossed fruit with a dab of whipped cream on top as a subtle finish.
I would like to develop more skill in this area, but for now I’m content with a handful of standby recipes, mostly classic with a twist or two – amaretto cheesecake, amaretto bundt cake, (I seem to have a thing for amaretto), and key lime pie.
The true classic is pound cake.
My favorite recipe is simple and the ingredient list aligns with the staples that I’m likely to have on hand. In a pinch, it is easy to whip together without a trip to the grocery store.
In keeping with the request "bring something sweet," pound cake was my contribution to a BBQ with friends on Sunday afternoon. We enjoyed it warm, just out of the oven after a feast of ribs, brisket, beans, corn bread, and pasta salad. The simplicity of the pound cake taste and texture was a nice finish to a full-flavored meal.
Ariel and I each had a slice of left over pound cake for breakfast on Monday morning. While she waited for me to join her at the table, she got creative with the fruit and bacon. She’s going to be twenty years old this summer, but some things just never change. And I'm glad they don't.
Buttery Pound Cake
2 cups sugar
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
5 eggs
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 1/4 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
powdered sugar, if desired
Heat oven to 350 degrees. Combine sugar and butter in large mixer bowl. Beat at medium speed, scraping down bowl often, until creamy (2 to 3 minutes). Continue beating, adding eggs one at a time, until well mixed (2 to 3 minutes). Add sour cream, milk, and vanilla. Continue beating, scraping bowl often, until well mixed (1 to 2 minutes).
Reduce speed to low. Add flour and salt; beat until just moistened.
Spoon batter into greased and floured 12-cup bundt or 10-inch tube pan. Bake for 55 to 65 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes our clean. Cool 15 minutes; remove from pan. Cool completely. Sprinkle with powdered sugar, if desired.
12 servings
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
- This recipe is printed on the back of a Land O Lakes butter carton that’s been hanging around my recipe collection for years. I made it for the first time three years ago. My family loves it and so did my Sunday night BBQ fellow diners. You can also find it here.
- The cake stands alone with a little powdered sugar on top or you can serve it with whipped cream (please don't by the fake stuff) and fruit.
She would pour forth as much or more effort on her desserts as the main dish. Sometimes I would indulge in a forkful or two of the ooey gooey sweet ending, but more often than not I would take an extra helping of vegetables or a piece of bread instead.
She was never at a loss for takers though. My older brother began every meal by asking what was for dessert and still does. Some things never change.
Sweets will never rank high on my list of cooking or eating priorities although there is something quite alluring about brownies just out of the oven. So my dessert repertoire is less than stellar. I’m content to throw together some tossed fruit with a dab of whipped cream on top as a subtle finish.
I would like to develop more skill in this area, but for now I’m content with a handful of standby recipes, mostly classic with a twist or two – amaretto cheesecake, amaretto bundt cake, (I seem to have a thing for amaretto), and key lime pie.
The true classic is pound cake.
My favorite recipe is simple and the ingredient list aligns with the staples that I’m likely to have on hand. In a pinch, it is easy to whip together without a trip to the grocery store.
In keeping with the request "bring something sweet," pound cake was my contribution to a BBQ with friends on Sunday afternoon. We enjoyed it warm, just out of the oven after a feast of ribs, brisket, beans, corn bread, and pasta salad. The simplicity of the pound cake taste and texture was a nice finish to a full-flavored meal.
Ariel and I each had a slice of left over pound cake for breakfast on Monday morning. While she waited for me to join her at the table, she got creative with the fruit and bacon. She’s going to be twenty years old this summer, but some things just never change. And I'm glad they don't.
Buttery Pound Cake
2 cups sugar
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
5 eggs
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 1/4 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
powdered sugar, if desired
Heat oven to 350 degrees. Combine sugar and butter in large mixer bowl. Beat at medium speed, scraping down bowl often, until creamy (2 to 3 minutes). Continue beating, adding eggs one at a time, until well mixed (2 to 3 minutes). Add sour cream, milk, and vanilla. Continue beating, scraping bowl often, until well mixed (1 to 2 minutes).
Reduce speed to low. Add flour and salt; beat until just moistened.
Spoon batter into greased and floured 12-cup bundt or 10-inch tube pan. Bake for 55 to 65 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes our clean. Cool 15 minutes; remove from pan. Cool completely. Sprinkle with powdered sugar, if desired.
12 servings
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
- This recipe is printed on the back of a Land O Lakes butter carton that’s been hanging around my recipe collection for years. I made it for the first time three years ago. My family loves it and so did my Sunday night BBQ fellow diners. You can also find it here.
- The cake stands alone with a little powdered sugar on top or you can serve it with whipped cream (please don't by the fake stuff) and fruit.
Posted at 07:47 AM Read More
Fri - May 25, 2007
Ahhhh, The Slow Life and Lucca-Style Olives
As a child my favorite piece of playground
equipment was the merry-go-round. I would grab on, run as fast as I could, jump
on, and then hang on for dear life especially if the merry-go-round had the
momentum of several kids giving it a
go.
With every dizzying rotation it was a battle; gravity versus me. Sometimes gravity won; sometimes I triumphed making my way to the center and standing triumphantly.
Transition to adult life. It’s busy, hectic, and fast. Traffic. Alarms. Appointments. Meetings. Deadlines. Plane schedules. Rental cars. Rental car shuttles. Airport security lines. Double-booked calendars. Email and the incessant cell phone. Constant noise. Radios. Loudspeakers. Slot machine’s dinging (that one’s random, but I’m in Vegas at the moment).
Sometimes it’s too much. And I feel like that little girl on the merry-go-round losing my grip, one knuckle, two knuckle, three knuckes. Gone!
Except I never really fall off, just down. And without my help the merry-go-round of life just keeps on spinning.
Yet there are moments for me, spent mostly in the kitchen and around the dining table with friends and family when I feel I’m defying the gravitational pull of the fast life.
Fresh ingredients. Alluring aromas. Pleasing tastes. Enchanting wine. Fantastic conversation. Laughs. Smiles. Memories. Refreshing.
Yes, I need more of these slow moments, see the smile?
A year and a half ago I joined Slow Food – an international organization with 80,000 members who share my sentiment. Founded in 1989, Slow Food’s mission is to revive the joy of eating with an emphasis on taste, promote diversity in our food chain, and link artisanal producers with consumers.
It’s a growing movement. The Slow Food Dallas chapter now has more than 200 members.
It takes a slower life to reconnect with our tastebuds, understand where our food comes from, and care about how our food choices affect our planet and ourselves.
So I joined with eight other Slow Food Dallas members for a communal supper this past Saturday night, each of us contributing a dish to complement an Italian-themed meal.
My contribution to the meal was the antipasta: marinated chickpeas, peppered, sliced salami alongside sliced parmigana reggiano, and Lucca-Style Roasted Olives.
My dinner mates’ contributions were a green salad served in individual homemade parmesan crisp bowls, “Braised Pork to Taste Like Wild Boar,” white cannelloni beans with rosemary, and homemade panna cotta with hazelnut praline caramel sauce, and bit of violin music ala Ariel between the main course and dessert.
It felt like we took a step back in time with food, music, and fellowship.
The supper was slow, the conversation engaging, and the food divine.
And on one more evening I triumphed.
I beat back everything that is fast about my life to stand triumphantly and serenely in the middle of the merry-go-round.
Lucca-Style Roasted Olives
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
6 large cloves garlic, unpeeled, lightly crushed
5 or 6 fresh thyme sprigs
1 pint (about 2 cups) oil-cured black olives
1/2 pint (about 1 cup) Nicoise or Alberquina olives
4 orange zest strips
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Cook the olive oil and garlic cloves in an ovenproof skillet over moderate heat until the cloves begin to sizzle and carmelize slightly. Add the thyme sprigs and let them sizzle in the oil for about 30 seconds. Add the olives and stir until they are hot throughout, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the orange zest.
Transfer the skillet to the oven and bake, stirring occasionally, until the olives start to soften, 5 to 8 minutes. Serve warm.
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
- This is Michael Chiarello’s recipe from his book, Michael Chiarello’s Casual Cooking.
- If the pork recipe sounds intriguing it can be found in Marlene De Blasi's “A Thousand Days in Tuscany.” I’ve never had wild boar so I can’t compare, but the flavors made my tastebuds dance.
- The rest of the evening's photos can be found here.
With every dizzying rotation it was a battle; gravity versus me. Sometimes gravity won; sometimes I triumphed making my way to the center and standing triumphantly.
Transition to adult life. It’s busy, hectic, and fast. Traffic. Alarms. Appointments. Meetings. Deadlines. Plane schedules. Rental cars. Rental car shuttles. Airport security lines. Double-booked calendars. Email and the incessant cell phone. Constant noise. Radios. Loudspeakers. Slot machine’s dinging (that one’s random, but I’m in Vegas at the moment).
Sometimes it’s too much. And I feel like that little girl on the merry-go-round losing my grip, one knuckle, two knuckle, three knuckes. Gone!
Except I never really fall off, just down. And without my help the merry-go-round of life just keeps on spinning.
Yet there are moments for me, spent mostly in the kitchen and around the dining table with friends and family when I feel I’m defying the gravitational pull of the fast life.
Fresh ingredients. Alluring aromas. Pleasing tastes. Enchanting wine. Fantastic conversation. Laughs. Smiles. Memories. Refreshing.
Yes, I need more of these slow moments, see the smile?
A year and a half ago I joined Slow Food – an international organization with 80,000 members who share my sentiment. Founded in 1989, Slow Food’s mission is to revive the joy of eating with an emphasis on taste, promote diversity in our food chain, and link artisanal producers with consumers.
It’s a growing movement. The Slow Food Dallas chapter now has more than 200 members.
It takes a slower life to reconnect with our tastebuds, understand where our food comes from, and care about how our food choices affect our planet and ourselves.
So I joined with eight other Slow Food Dallas members for a communal supper this past Saturday night, each of us contributing a dish to complement an Italian-themed meal.
My contribution to the meal was the antipasta: marinated chickpeas, peppered, sliced salami alongside sliced parmigana reggiano, and Lucca-Style Roasted Olives.
My dinner mates’ contributions were a green salad served in individual homemade parmesan crisp bowls, “Braised Pork to Taste Like Wild Boar,” white cannelloni beans with rosemary, and homemade panna cotta with hazelnut praline caramel sauce, and bit of violin music ala Ariel between the main course and dessert.
It felt like we took a step back in time with food, music, and fellowship.
The supper was slow, the conversation engaging, and the food divine.
And on one more evening I triumphed.
I beat back everything that is fast about my life to stand triumphantly and serenely in the middle of the merry-go-round.
Lucca-Style Roasted Olives
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
6 large cloves garlic, unpeeled, lightly crushed
5 or 6 fresh thyme sprigs
1 pint (about 2 cups) oil-cured black olives
1/2 pint (about 1 cup) Nicoise or Alberquina olives
4 orange zest strips
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Cook the olive oil and garlic cloves in an ovenproof skillet over moderate heat until the cloves begin to sizzle and carmelize slightly. Add the thyme sprigs and let them sizzle in the oil for about 30 seconds. Add the olives and stir until they are hot throughout, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the orange zest.
Transfer the skillet to the oven and bake, stirring occasionally, until the olives start to soften, 5 to 8 minutes. Serve warm.
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
- This is Michael Chiarello’s recipe from his book, Michael Chiarello’s Casual Cooking.
- If the pork recipe sounds intriguing it can be found in Marlene De Blasi's “A Thousand Days in Tuscany.” I’ve never had wild boar so I can’t compare, but the flavors made my tastebuds dance.
- The rest of the evening's photos can be found here.
Posted at 09:19 AM Read More
Tue - May 15, 2007
Ultimate Garlic Mashed Potatoes
Having grown up with a mother who was a solid
southern cook, there was nothing remotely French about the food on our family
dining table except for the fries, usually presented with a steak masterfully
grilled by my father.
Never venturing far from their Southern cuisine roots my parents rarely dined out, and if they did it was never French. Mexican, absolutely, French, no way.
As captain of my own personal cuisine expedition in adulthood, I dismissed French fare as expensive (anything French is expensive), form over function (beautiful presentation over fill me up), amazingly difficult (it must be), and mysterious (besides croissants, just exactly what was French food?).
Then I booked a trip to Paris so I sought to better understand this baffling cuisine.
I picked up a copy of Julia Child’s “Mastering The Art of French Cooking” just before my departure to the City of Lights this past March.
It’s as big as a family Bible and is considered a holy book in some cooking circles; certainly it’s a classic. I lugged all 3.2 lbs. of it with me on a recent business trip and pulled it out on the plane. The man sitting next to me asked if I was a chef.
Ah, ha! I wasn’t alone in my twisted thinking that only those with formal culinary training can reckon with French cuisine!
As I read, absorbed, and explored its 752 pages, that which I had once considered beyond reach of my simple, American kitchen skills seemed surprisingly doable and delectable.
With “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” as their guide, Ariel and Emily (below) took on the task of cooking dinner on a Saturday night a couple of weeks ago. It was the first run anyone had made at French cuisine in my kitchen.
There was a buzz of activity in the kitchen. And, oh, the aroma that wafted up the stairs that drew me down the stairs. My tastebuds danced in anticipation and were not disappointed when we gathered around the dining room table.
Flavorful, Flavorful. Flavorful. And delightful.
It was a steak and potatoes night French style – “Biftek Saute Bercy and Puree De Pommes De Terre a L’Ail” – simply translated - “Pan-broiled steak with Shallot and White Wine Sauce and Garlic Mashed Potatoes.” English peas flavored with rosemary rounded out the meal and made for a beautiful presentation.
It was like Julia’s words leaping to life from the pages of her book, “’Mastering the Art of French Cooking’” is just what the title says. It is how to produce really wonderful food – food that tastes good, looks good, and is a delight to eat.”
My standard for garlic mashed potatoes was ratcheted up several notches that evening; it’s going to have to be Julia’s way or no way in my kitchen.
No longer baffling or mysterious, my affection and respect for French cuisine began when the first crumbs of a crusty baguette fell to my plate in Paris. With Julia's help, I'm looking forward to a life long love affair.
Puree De Pommes De Terre A L’ail
(Garlic Mashed Potatoes)
2 heads garlic (about 30 cloves)
4 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup boiling milk
1/4 teaspoon Salt
pinch of pepper
2 1/2 lb. baking potatoes
4 tablespoons butter
salt and pepper
3-4 tablespoons whipping cream
4 tablespoons minced parsley
Separate the garlic cloves. Drop into boiling water, and boil two minutes. Drain. Peel
Cook the garlic slowly with 4 tablespoon of butter for about 20 minutes or until very tender but not browned. Blend in the flour and stir over low heat until it froths with the butter for 2 minutes without browning. Off heat, beat in the boiling milk and 1/4 tablespoon salt and pinch of pepper. Boil, stirring, for one minute. Rub the sauce through a sieve or puree it in a blender. Simmer for 2 minutes more.
Peel and quarter the potatoes. Drop in boiling salted water to cover, and boil until tender. Drain immediately and put through a potato ricer. Place the hot puree in a saucepan and beat with a spatula or spoon for several minutes over moderate heat to evaporate moisture. As soon as the puree begins to form a film on the bottom of the pan, remove from the heat and beat in 4 tablespoons of butter, one tablespoon at a time. Beat in salt and pepper to taste.
Shortly before serving, beat the hot garlic sauce vigorously into the hot potatoes. Beat in the cream by spoonfuls, but do not thin out the puree too much. Beat in the parsley. Correct the seasoning if needed.
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
- I’ve taken some liberties with Julia’s recipe. The ingredient list is complete but I’ve pared down her instructions. Almost overwhelming at first read, she mixes excruciating details of the size and type of pots, pans, and cooking instruments along with the basic recipe instructions. But remember that her original audience was the 1961 American cook and you’ll love her for the attention to detail.
- This dinner is a fond memory. It was the last meal Emily (pictured below) prepared in my kitchen before she returned to Utah, her home state. After she finished her nursing degree at Baylor this spring, her family, and her first nursing job beckoned her home.
- Hannah and I had a lovely time in Paris. It is a beautiful city filled with never-ending wonder at each twist and turn of its lovely streets. If you’re interested in seeing our photos, click here for a video montage.
Never venturing far from their Southern cuisine roots my parents rarely dined out, and if they did it was never French. Mexican, absolutely, French, no way.
As captain of my own personal cuisine expedition in adulthood, I dismissed French fare as expensive (anything French is expensive), form over function (beautiful presentation over fill me up), amazingly difficult (it must be), and mysterious (besides croissants, just exactly what was French food?).
Then I booked a trip to Paris so I sought to better understand this baffling cuisine.
I picked up a copy of Julia Child’s “Mastering The Art of French Cooking” just before my departure to the City of Lights this past March.
It’s as big as a family Bible and is considered a holy book in some cooking circles; certainly it’s a classic. I lugged all 3.2 lbs. of it with me on a recent business trip and pulled it out on the plane. The man sitting next to me asked if I was a chef.
Ah, ha! I wasn’t alone in my twisted thinking that only those with formal culinary training can reckon with French cuisine!
As I read, absorbed, and explored its 752 pages, that which I had once considered beyond reach of my simple, American kitchen skills seemed surprisingly doable and delectable.
With “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” as their guide, Ariel and Emily (below) took on the task of cooking dinner on a Saturday night a couple of weeks ago. It was the first run anyone had made at French cuisine in my kitchen.
There was a buzz of activity in the kitchen. And, oh, the aroma that wafted up the stairs that drew me down the stairs. My tastebuds danced in anticipation and were not disappointed when we gathered around the dining room table.
Flavorful, Flavorful. Flavorful. And delightful.
It was a steak and potatoes night French style – “Biftek Saute Bercy and Puree De Pommes De Terre a L’Ail” – simply translated - “Pan-broiled steak with Shallot and White Wine Sauce and Garlic Mashed Potatoes.” English peas flavored with rosemary rounded out the meal and made for a beautiful presentation.
It was like Julia’s words leaping to life from the pages of her book, “’Mastering the Art of French Cooking’” is just what the title says. It is how to produce really wonderful food – food that tastes good, looks good, and is a delight to eat.”
My standard for garlic mashed potatoes was ratcheted up several notches that evening; it’s going to have to be Julia’s way or no way in my kitchen.
No longer baffling or mysterious, my affection and respect for French cuisine began when the first crumbs of a crusty baguette fell to my plate in Paris. With Julia's help, I'm looking forward to a life long love affair.
Puree De Pommes De Terre A L’ail
(Garlic Mashed Potatoes)
2 heads garlic (about 30 cloves)
4 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup boiling milk
1/4 teaspoon Salt
pinch of pepper
2 1/2 lb. baking potatoes
4 tablespoons butter
salt and pepper
3-4 tablespoons whipping cream
4 tablespoons minced parsley
Separate the garlic cloves. Drop into boiling water, and boil two minutes. Drain. Peel
Cook the garlic slowly with 4 tablespoon of butter for about 20 minutes or until very tender but not browned. Blend in the flour and stir over low heat until it froths with the butter for 2 minutes without browning. Off heat, beat in the boiling milk and 1/4 tablespoon salt and pinch of pepper. Boil, stirring, for one minute. Rub the sauce through a sieve or puree it in a blender. Simmer for 2 minutes more.
Peel and quarter the potatoes. Drop in boiling salted water to cover, and boil until tender. Drain immediately and put through a potato ricer. Place the hot puree in a saucepan and beat with a spatula or spoon for several minutes over moderate heat to evaporate moisture. As soon as the puree begins to form a film on the bottom of the pan, remove from the heat and beat in 4 tablespoons of butter, one tablespoon at a time. Beat in salt and pepper to taste.
Shortly before serving, beat the hot garlic sauce vigorously into the hot potatoes. Beat in the cream by spoonfuls, but do not thin out the puree too much. Beat in the parsley. Correct the seasoning if needed.
Sandra’s Cooking Notes:
- I’ve taken some liberties with Julia’s recipe. The ingredient list is complete but I’ve pared down her instructions. Almost overwhelming at first read, she mixes excruciating details of the size and type of pots, pans, and cooking instruments along with the basic recipe instructions. But remember that her original audience was the 1961 American cook and you’ll love her for the attention to detail.
- This dinner is a fond memory. It was the last meal Emily (pictured below) prepared in my kitchen before she returned to Utah, her home state. After she finished her nursing degree at Baylor this spring, her family, and her first nursing job beckoned her home.
- Hannah and I had a lovely time in Paris. It is a beautiful city filled with never-ending wonder at each twist and turn of its lovely streets. If you’re interested in seeing our photos, click here for a video montage.
Posted at 08:30 AM Read More
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Published On: Jan 07, 2008 06:55 AM
Published On: Jan 07, 2008 06:55 AM