she's just saying...

What's in your cupboard?

I love and admire my big sisters. They're role models and (now that they're no longer babysitting me) friends. And they're both great cooks.

Sister #1 (the eldest) visits me at Christmas about every other year. She loves to take on cooking the big fancy meals and I love to let her. She always has a new recipe or approach she wants to try as well as the old favorites. We're both "foodies" (I know, I hate that word too) and use what some might call exotic or gourmet ingredients. But every year, there's an ingredient she needs for a dish that I don't stock.

The first year, it was white pepper. I'm a black pepper fan and had never seen the need to use any other color, but after not having it that year, I was sure to keep it in stock. (It's a more delicate flavor and doesn't mess up a white dish with unsightly black flecks, if you have to know.)

The next year it was capers, which I do normally have, but had run out and not restocked. Two years ago it was Kitchen Bouquet. "You don't have any Kitchen Bouquet???" she asked incredulously. I'll confess I had no idea what it was, though I'd seen in in my mom's cupboard. I also don't cook beef so didn't use it in gravy, which was what S#1 wanted it for. This sticks in my mind because my niece innocently asked what was wrong with the gravy, and was informed that it looked that way because "Melissa doesn't have any Kitchen Bouquet!" You better believe I went and bought some after that.

This year, I carefully checked my supplies, laid in several more pounds of butter and a quart of half-and-half and figured I was good. And I was, pretty much, except for dried tarragon and white wine vinegar. Honestly, how can you make Bearnaise sauce without tarragon and w.w.vinegar?  (I didn't get any points for growing fresh tarragon as it had already died. And I had FOUR other kinds of vinegar, but oh well.) 

Well, S#1 managed with fresh parsley and shallots (both of which I did have on hand), and the Bearnaise and the entire meal was incredible. Then she made Hopping John for New Year's and that was delicious as well. (I ran out of onions for that one but the neighbors came through.) It was a wonderful visit and I'm glad she made the trek across the continent to see us.

Of course, now I'm a little paranoid about the deficiencies of my pantry -- what will it be next time? Any guesses?

The mysterious "Kitchen Bouquet"

Soft ball and hard crack

Q: What do those phrases stand for?

A:  Stages of sugar in candy-making. It's what the mixture does when dropped into cold water. If you're new at it, or not, it definitely helps to have a candy thermometer.

I like to make candy -- it's an adventure. I especially love to make real fudge so I can eat it. NOT the recipe with marshmallow fluff: the real candy-thermometer fudge. It's a messy process and a little tricky, as it crystallizes easily and then you get that gritty mouthfeel - sign of an amateur candymaker.

I may or may not make fudge this year. However, every year I do make nut brittle for my dad. It's like peanut brittle but with cashews, hazelnuts, pecans, brazil nuts, etc. instead. Very decadent. And murder on the fillings.

Here are some pics of Nut Brittle in the making. Recipe available upon request (I'm too sleepy to post it right now)

The set up:

Approaching the hard crack stage (300 degrees)

You stretch it while it's still hot (it's not as dark as it looks here)

Done. Yum.

Nouvelle plastic

Scene: The upscale restaurant of an unnamed Portland hotel. Three women having lunch. Chatting, laughing, eating. One of the women has the "chicken noodle soup": a bowl of broth, two petite chicken roulades and a large vegetable ravioli on the bottom. Very nouvelle.

Suddenly: "Is this food?" the woman asks, taking a ring of plastic out of her mouth and examining it, possibly mistaking it for cellophane noodles.

It was not.

After much hilarity, discussion and negotiations with the staff, the soup charge is removed and a dessert is provided.

Final question, when the bill is presented: "Do you take plastic?"

Waitress answers: "No, we only serve it." Ba-dum-bump.

The soup

The object in question

 

Covered in steamed milk and Yeti fur

Quick - what's that a picture of?

A yeti in a snowstorm!

We've got yeti on the brain right now, as Henry decided (on Sunday night) that was what he was going to be on Halloween. Not Friday night or even Saturday, when I had time to go out and round up yeti paraphernalia. But if life weren't like a sit-com, who would read blogs?

Luckily Joanne's Fabrics had perfect hairy white fabric, and on sale! After considering and rejecting the hot glue gun or spray mount, I decided I had to bite the bullet and sew. Now, I hate to use my sewing machine, so this was truly an act of motherly sacrifice. Plus, once it's out and set up, I have some hemming I can do.

Meanwhile, at the same time, Mr. G's fifth-grade class was assigned an independent (read: parent-produced) project which involved a speech, audio visual aids and samples of "Our family's favorite snack." Since Chardonnay and olives were probably inappropriate, we settled on Italian vanilla steamed milk, which Henry gets me to make if he gets up before the expresso machine cools.

So, this morning had me sewing up the last seams of the Yeti costume while steaming hot milk for 32. And of course, I was wearing black velvet head to toe for my annual kitty cat costume. The long white fur shed everywhere, the steamer wand popped off spraying sticky milk everywhere, and I was swearing and yelling and generally starting the day off with a (hairy) splash.

How was your morning?

A social caterpillar

I remember a time when I went out every night. Actually it was many times. I remember thinking if I stopped wanting to go to a club my life would be pretty much over. This was when I was in Boston, or NYC, or maybe LA, where that's what you did. Well, those days are long over, though my life seems not to be. So over, in fact, that I can't remember the last time I went to anything resembling a club. (Well, yes I can but that's another story.)

I don't even go out to dinner or drinks any more. Maybe once a month? That used to be a couple-times-a-week kind of thing. Much of that has to do with being single, as in solo. That may be the second thing I miss most about being in a relationship.

This is how I socialize these days: I stay home. Friends come by, usually one or two at a time. My single and even a few married friends love to hang out and drink wine while I cook, eat a grazing meal of cheese, olives, bread, apples and whatever odd sauce or chutney I have in the fridge, chat, watch a ball game or knit or just read the paper in each other's company. This happens several afternoons and nights a week. I like it because I don't have to go anywhere and I can keep some semblance of control over Henry. They like it for the family energy, the nurturing, the wine and of course my company.

I do get antsy, especially around Friday or Saturday early in the evening, when a change of venue would be welcome. But I love my compound, summer or winter, and I love to entertain casually, so it's all pretty good. This is how I've matured: I now know that going-out opportunities will come again, so I'm content to enjoy what I have right now. But I do have some wild memories of late late nights at dark loud clubs. I'd do it again, for sure.

It's not instant coffee, it's Ready Brew.

Starbucks is possibly the only company that could pull off making instant coffee hip, and I'm not sure even they can do it.

Yes, I had to buy some VIA pods or whatever they're called. They're just so cool, and super-cute! (High praise from someone who makes purchase decisions based on packaging design.) I really wanted to like the coffee too. But it's pretty flat, and I never wanted to finish the cup, which is telling. Either variety.

Starbucks has pumped up the marketing machine for this one, complete with taste test comparisons and re-branding: not instant coffee, ready brew.

"It's made with the highest-quality, ethically sourced 100% arabica beans. The magic is in a proprietary process, all-natural process that we spent years perfecting. We microgrind the beans in a way that preserves all of their essential oils and flavors. No other coffee company takes this step, and it makes all the difference."

Starbucks' stock and earnings have taken a hit in the last two years, and I guess this is their way of offering cheap coffee to get recessionistas to come back to the brand. Or of getting a share of the grocery store instant coffee biz, which in spite of the fact that no one you or I know drinks the stuff, is a huge business. [Correction: my parents drink it. Anybody else know of someone?]

What I don't get is why they're willing to put their own coffee up to a taste test with Via. If Via wins or even ties, isn't that saying that Starbucks brewed coffee isn't worth the extra $2? They set it up to cannibalize their own business. I wish I was a fly on the wall during those planning meetings.

Yes, they're positioning it as a way to get Starbucks while in the office, on a plane, hang-gliding or whatever. But that's a pretty small market and they must be counting on in-home use.

Strikes me that Starbucks loses either way. Instant coffee drinkers (cost-conscious folk) probably won't buy the stuff due to its high price vs. other instants (and don't think those brands are not rolling out their own little pods). And people who think it tastes just like a Starbucks cup may switch cause it's a lot cheaper.

Anybody want to take me up on a bet on this? I say it's pulled within a year.

Beet Me, or, What I Did Last Night

Local alert: Richard's Produce Stand is closing down for the season Oct.15. (I asked Adam what I'm going to do all winter without him, and he said: "Eat citrus." It's going to be a long winter.) 

I'm already anticipating the produce withdrawal and it won't be pretty. So meanwhile I'm overbuying and it's a great time to do it as everything is at the peak of ripeness. I'm putting up sauteed tomato chunks and garlic, freezing peach slices, jarring peeled garlic cloves in olive oil* and making parsley salsa. And last night I roasted beets.

I've never cooked beets before due to memories of their canned weirdness, but they looked really cool at the produce stand and I felt adventurous. Plus, the New York Times decreed "Beets: the New Spinach" so I had to jump on the trendwagon.

I fired up the gas grill (with soaked wood chips for a nice smoky touch), tossed slices of unpeeled beets with olive oil/salt and slow-grilled them for 40 minutes or so, turning once. I also threw thick slices of onion and a head of garlic in foil on there just to be efficient. They all came out caramelized and smoky and really transformative.

Beets pair well with goat cheese to cut their sweetness and add a creamy tang, so I'm making a beet/arugula/chevre salad with vinaigrette to serve with crusty bread and pinot gris. Dinner's at seven.

the beetness of beets

*Note: storing garlic cloves in olive oil at room temperature is a perfect recipe for botulism. Refrigerate.

But will it feed the dog and program the TIVO?

We've been cooking a lot of rice around here lately. It fits the four basic Henry food requirements:

• filling
• cheap
• can eat any time of day
• goes well with butter and/or sugar

So I've been looking at rice cookers. They seem sort of unnecessary, like a Mr. Tea maker, but people rave about them and I'm all about more appliances.

If I could afford it, this would be my first choice, based on my motto "Why pay less?"

Zojirushi NS-ZCC10 5-1/2-Cup Neuro Fuzzy Rice Cooker and Warmer

List Price:	$233.00
Price:	$159.99

Multi-menu selections using advanced Neuro Fuzzy logic technology control the temperature for efficient cooking of many different types of rice including white, sushi, mixed, porridge, sweet, semi-brown, brown, rinse-free, and quick cooking.

Because I think it's important to cook with fuzzy logic. That's how I approach everything else, frankly.

Can you count the guilt in this picture?

 

Answer:

1. Going to the evil Starbucks instead of a local coffeehouse.
2. Using the drive-through, pretty lazy and burns too much fuel.
3. Buying a grande 1-pump vanilla caramel macchiato, basically a high calorie milkshake.
4. Not making a latte at home for 1/3 the time and price.

Almost enough guilt to spoil the coffee, but not quite. Cheers!

Spud.

I'm primarily a perennials gardener. I never fall for the "color spot" annuals and don't specialize in roses or lilies or begonias, in spite of my horticultural heritage. I've also never gotten serious about vegetables.

To get good veggie results in Central Oregon you have to dedicate your spring to babying seeds and starts in a greenhouse, setting up walls'o'water, running out to protect crops from frost in August, and  fighting off the birds and bugs. It's a very short season and doesn't seem worth it to me.

However, in the past I have produced some tomatoes, a pumpkin, two eggplants and bushels of parsley and mint, which appear to be my specialty. (I also try and fail every year to grow arugula - it's a mythic struggle.) But today I can raise my head proudly and declare myself a farmer: I have grown a potato.

I don't actually remember planting potatoes, but occasionally when one starts to sprout in the vegetable bin I take it out and stick it in the ground. While harvesting parsley this morning, I pulled up what I thought was a weed and found a small red potato at the other end. 

I can't describe the awe and pride I felt when I held it up. Any suburbanite can grow tomatoes and zucchini, but to produce a potato seems like an authentic farmer-type accomplishment.

I think I'll steam it in a (tiny) pan and eat it with butter and salt and pepper.

Note to Kathi D.: no need to be flaunting your Cali harvest abbondanza - we're talking high desert here!

How to prepare for eye surgery

1. Go to Costco.
2. Clean the house.
3. Freeze casseroles.
4. Mow the lawn.
5. Wash the dog.
6. Begin Pinot Grigio detox.
7. Hit the bank, return library books, rent movies.
8. Get a pedicure.
9. Update the iPod.
10. Remove toe ring.
11. Buy pretty panties.
12. Clean the fish tank.
13. Prepare low-vision knitting strategy.

I think I'm ready.

What would be on your list?

Produce and the City

[Note that I used the word "city" in the title of this post. I've been informed that Bend does indeed have an escalator; therefore by my own definition it is a city.]

I love farmers' markets. Who doesn't love farmers' markets?  However, I'm very happy these days that I don't need to go to the Bend Farmers' Market any more. (correct possessive apostrophe of a plural noun there.) There's the small matter of parking, for one thing; getting there on time, waiting in lines, dodging the shiny happy families and so forth. Just saying.

The reason I don't have to go you-know-where is that a farm stand has opened two blocks from the house.

And it's a great farm stand.

Tomatoes that taste like my dad's eaten right there in his garden.

  Big fat and little donut peaches.

 

Local berries, herbs, beans, potatoes, onions, beets, corn delivered daily right from the field. etc. It's thrilling.

And it's really local.

The best part? I can send Henry down with a backpack and a grocery list. I'm telling you, after nine years of doing it all myself, I'm finally reaping some payback. And it's character-building too.

This is Adam from Richard's. Tell him Melissa sent you.