Stolen Moments

I'm working on a post - Miracle of Miracles! - but it's not ready yet.  Which is a way to say that I'm going to post it once I've had less wine and can proofread it properly.

It's been a busy month: visiting my best friend (aka Soul Twin) in Virginia, a week in Texas for a conference, a week of my mother-in-law (aka MC) visiting, and a week of my parents visiting (which I'm still in the middle of).  In the midst of the craziness, though, I've felt full and blessed.  In particular, we took a trip to Eataly* with MC and it was inspiring - I felt so centered when I left.

At one point, Bug hijacked our camera and started taking pictures of her own.  Can you guess which photos are mine and which are hers?

Eat, drink, and enjoy your stolen moment of calm and beauty...


* My previous post on Eataly

Simple Food

I know my last post was about crostini.  And you know what?  This one features crostini too.  But there's a reason for that: I need simplification.  It's Conference Season at work, which means three conferences in three different cities for the next three months.  And all I want at the end of the day, or during the weekend, is simplicity.  A steaming cup of coffee...a dozen oysters shared with Adam paired with Veuve Clicquot...bread dipped in olive oil.

And the seasons are so weird right now.  All the cellared apples are turning mealy.  I despair at the idea of any more root vegetables.  But I haven't seen asparagus and fiddleheads yet.  Just as the seasons are in limbo, so am I.

Thus, I find myself making things like crostini a lot.  Simple, easy, flavorful, uncomplicated, straightforward.  Here is my latest:

I started by brushing a large piece of thick-cut bread with olive oil and then grilling it on my cast-iron stovetop grill.  I like a light black char on my bread and, once achieved, I take it off the grill and sprinkle with salt and pepper.

I added fresh ricotta (to taste), followed by roasted red peppers (yes, from a jar) which I julienned.  I topped the peppers with red onion sliced thinly.  Last but not least, I had some leftover basil in my fridge, which I sliced into a chiffonade and sprinkled over the top.  Paired with a spinach salad, it was a light and satisfying meal.  And here is Bug's boring version (in my judgmental opinion, anyway...):

But I got dairy, fruit, and a starch in her (super dark picture but those are grapes to the right).  I argue that this is well-balanced...

This meal - and the others like it that I've been preparing lately - wasn't challenging.  But you know what?  With three conferences between now and June, if it scores me more time with my family, then I'm a very happy woman.

Eat, drink, and savor your free time.


Wine pairing note: I recently visited the Soul Twin and we visited Villa Appalaccia, a lovely winery in Virginia (see my photos from the last visit).  I bought a bottle of their Simpatico, which is a blend of three grapes: Malvasia Bianca (30%), Pinot Grigio (5%), and Trebbiano (65%).  It's a sweet wine with some heft, but still has a bit of the crispness that I like in a white wine.  Wonderful pairing with this meal.

Artichoke Crostini and the Picky Eaters who Don't Love Artichokes

We're still in post-moving mode around these parts so my dinners have remained simple affairs and I have a real easy one to share with you...

...but before I do, I want to address something that I don't think I've talked much about in the last three years of writing this blog: Picky Eaters.  Specifically, picky kids.  Bug is a Picky Eater...which my mom thinks serves me right since I was THE Pickiest Eater as a kid.  Which goes to show you that kids can grow out of it, as now I'll eat (or at least try) nearly everything.

So how do I handle my Picky Eater?  Well, first, Adam and I have 1-2 nights a week that we call Adult Dinner. I give Bug her dinner around 6:00, usually Annie's Homegrown Macaroni and Cheese with a sliced apple on the side.  Then while Adam puts her to bed and reads to her, I make our dinner.  Which is always something Bug would hate.  Our Adult Dinners keep me sane: I can be adventurous with my meals a couple times a week and I can also connect with Adam without having to worry about what Bug is (or is not) eating.

Most nights, though, we're having Family Dinners.  But I'm not living on mac n' cheese and apples!  And I am firmly against making a separate meal for kids on a nightly basis.  So what I often do is set aside a deconstructed version of our dinner for Bug.  As an example, when I made Jamie Oliver's Fifteen Christmas Salad, I took a picture of me and Adam's dish.  Bug's dish, though, was set up different.  I separated the ingredients from one another: her plate had a small pile of prosciutto slices, a small pile of orange slices, a few pieces of cheese, a couple slices of bread.  So she didn't have a different meal - it was all the same ingredients we had.  I like to think that I just plated it differently.

That was the case with these artichoke crostini.  I first read about this in Saveur's "6 Quick Preps" for artichokes.  I brushed bread slices with olive oil and then grilled them on my stovetop castiron grill.  Once grilled, I set them aside and sprinkled with flake salt and freshly ground pepper.  Then I spread each piece of bread with marscapone cheese (I leave the amount of cheese up to your own tastes).  On top of the toasts, add generously chopped jarred marinated artichoke hearts.  I finished it with a sprinkling of finely chopped Italian parsley and cut garlic chives (from my window "garden"!), flake salt, and pepper.  On the side, I tossed baby arugula with olive oil, Dijon mustard, salt and pepper.

For the Picky Eater, I omitted the artichokes from the crostini so she basically got grilled bread and marscapone cheese.  Then I added a bite of artichoke on the side because the rule is that she has to at least try one bite of everything.  And she got apple slices instead of salad.

So that's how we do it in our family because a foodie parent does not a foodie kid make (even Mario Batali has publicly talked about how picky his kids are).  This meal was incredibly simple but high in flavor - exactly what I'm looking for in a weekday meal for two parents who work outside the home.  And it was "deconstructable", which is a crucial element in pleasing the entire family.

Eat, drink, and hope that my Picky Eater becomes a Foodie Adult.

Avis DeVoto: A Seaside Lunch

You guys!  What took me so long to read AS ALWAYS, JULIA: THE LETTERS OF JULIA CHILD & AVIS DEVOTO?!  I bought it on a whim yesterday and, in the first 20 pages alone, I have dog-eared four pages, marked a recipe, and circled numerous parts that I've loved.  This book is heaven, absolutely heaven.

So on this dreary NYC day where winter is still hanging on (though I take comfort in the fact that it will eventually lose), I offer up this quote from Avis DeVoto (which is also a sort of recipe):

Cape Ann also provides what I stubbornly maintain are the world's best lobsters.  I also stubbornly maintain that the only real way to cook lobsters is in three to four inches of sea water, in a covered kettle, for about twelve minutes (pound and a quarter lobsters being the ideal size).  You then drape these dazzling creatures over the rocks until they cool off a bit, tear them apart with the bare hands, dip each piece in melted butter, and guzzle.  There should from two to six lobsters per person [!].  While the lobsters cook and cool off, two dry Martinis a la DeVoto should be served.  Nothing whatever else should be served - we are eating all the lobster we want, we are not fooling around with salad or strawberry shortcake or even coffee.  All you need are the martinis, plenty of lobsters, millions of paper napkins, and a view.

Emphasis and exclamation point are my own, of course.  Can you believe this?!  Ye gads.

Eat, drink, and add seaside lobster-and-martini lunch to my Life To-Do List.

Progress Report

Move to Manhattan COMPLETE!  We're finally settling in and feeling close to normal - it always takes a big move for us to remember what creatures of habit we are!

Here are a few highlights from the last few weeks:

As part of our celebration, we opened a bottle of wine from our friends Amy and Lisa: a 2000 Chateau Haut-Bailly.  They brought this wine to us almost four years ago, shortly after we moved to Queens.  Amy said now was a very good time to drink it, and we thought that it was the perfect way to celebrate the new digs.  Needless to say, it was goooorgeous.

Another way to celebrate the new apartment?  A housewarming party!!!  Or, as Bug called it, "the swarming party."  Indeed it was.  About 30 people crammed into our small place?  It was cozy and our new home was indeed warmed.  We made my stand-by Red Pepper and Cannellini Dip, Chipotle and Rosemary Nuts, and Prosciutto Breadsticks (the original recipe suggests brushing the breadsticks with truffle  butter before adding the prosciutto - I highly recommend doing so).  I served a gorgeous blue cheese with Carr's Wheat Crackers as well, and I also sliced up some salami and cucumbers - which are a surprisingly delicious pair together.  

And our friend Laura brought us some lovely flowers.

We even managed to bring back our chalkboard wall.

And how about those garlic chives that I was so sad to leave behind?  The night before we moved, I remembered I had left them out on the balcony so I ran outside in my pajamas and quickly transplanted them.  They're now sitting in our front window and they're in heaven: all the sun and warmth, none of the cold.

They're as happy as we are (and, as evidenced by my hack job, you can see we've already used the heck out of them).

Eat, drink, and make a new home.

Eating in Transition

I know you all know this but...I'm moving!  This Friday!  To Manhattan! 

Adam and I have moved a lot in our lives: California, Virginia, Oregon, Washington, Arizona, New Jersey, Queens...  While our last move from Jersey to NYC was a bit rocky, we've been kicking butt on this one.    

Most of our kitchen is packed up but, dammit, I'm still determined to cook at home this week.  Tonight was crostini with fresh ricotta, herbs, and sauteed grape tomatoes:

 I kept out the cast-iron grill - it's a must, really - and then drizzled the bread with olive oil (normally, I would brush the olive oil on but the brush is packed up!).  I grilled the bread over med-high heat until toasted and lightly charred and set aside.  I poured about two tablespoons of olive oil into a skillet (nonstick or stainless is fine) and put over med-high heat.  Throw in a half-pint of grape tomatoes and toss occasionally until charred (careful: they spit).  Meanwhile, I chopped up fresh thyme and chives.  I also mixed up a vinaigrette (2 servings): 1/2 tbsp whole-grain mustard, 1/2 tsp sherry vinegar, 2 tbsp olive oil, salt and pepper to taste.  We also had some salami hanging out in the fridge and so I sliced that up as well.  Once the tomatoes were finished, I added salt and pepper to taste.  It was simple and easy, and it had the vague promise of summer, thanks to the tomatoes.

Not bad when you consider that this is what my cupboard looks like right now:

And seriously, if my cupboard can look like this and I can still eat like this...

...then why can't you?

Eat, drink, and make the most of it.

NOTE: So I had a great conversation with my friend, Kathryn, this weekend and we talked a bit about making meals for our kids.  This one?  Well, Bug wasn't about to eat tomatoes or salad.  So her version was the grilled bread with ricotta (and if she had known that her bread had olive oil on it, she wouldn't have touched it...so...shhhhh!) then some salami slices on the side.  Then I gave her a big bunch of grapes, which she eats like candy.  So she still had the same thing as we did - because I try to avoid making her a "kid dinner" when possible - but just a slightly different version of it.  And that is how we get by as parents...

The Promise of Spring

The move to Manhattan is ON!  We'll be moving in a week - just one week! - but I'll do my  best to keep stopping by here.

Never for even a millisecond have I doubted this move - I'm so ready for the next adventure and new experiences.  That is...until I saw this this morning:

I planted garlic chives in the spring of 2009 and, as a complete surprise to me, they came back on their own last spring.  And here they are again.  And I have to leave them behind.

My friends in Queens, I know I'll see them again.  But my own herbs?  I'm not sure when I'll see those again.  I'm going to miss them...a lot.

Eat, drink, and transplant them?

THE BUCOLIC PLAGUE: HOW TWO MANHATTANITES BECAME GENTLEMEN FARMERS

My dear friend Jenn got me a signed copy of THE BUCOLIC PLAGUE: HOW TWO MANHATTANITES BECAME GENTLEMEN FARMERS by Josh Kilmer-Purcell - she is a librarian at a school in Manhattan that, awesomely, brings in adult book authors to speak to their staff in the name of professional development.

Did you read ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE by Barbara Kingsolver?  Well, this is a grittier, yet slightly more fabulous, and gayer version of that book - all in a good way.  Like lots of people, I read THE OMNIVORE'S DILEMMA and thought how great it would be to leave my city life behind and live off the land. Hell, I still harbor fantasies of leaving New York and moving to a farm to make my own cheese and preserve my own vegetable harvest.  Luckily, there are books that remind me of the realities of such a plan:

1. ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE reminds me that it is really hard, back-breaking work to grow all your own food.
2. A PIG IN PROVENCE by Georgeanne Brennan reminds me that, by raising goats (or any living thing, for that matter), you face death and sickness regularly (there's a goat-birthing scene in that one I'll never, ever be able to get out of my head. Ever.).
3. THE BUCOLIC PLAGUE reminds me that buying a farm and working it could, quite possibly, put my marriage in jeopardy.

Kilmer-Purcell and his partner are successful Manhattanites who buy a farm in upstate New York on a whim and, basically, become weekend farmers.  It's exhausting and amazing to read about how they juggle their demanding corporate jobs in New York City, a fledgling entrepreneurial business, and the nitty-gritty responsibilities of running a farm on the weekends.  As you can imagine, it does begin to crack their 10-year relationship and the unraveling is sad and real.

What I appreciated about this book was the honesty and authenticity of Kilmer-Purcell's voice; at no point did I feel like he sugar-coated anything.  I felt like I got a real glimpse of his life: funny, heartbreaking, ironic, difficult, and serendipitous.  I mean, aren't all our lives like that?

One of my favorite scenes takes place in Martha Stewart's vegetable garden and Kilmer-Purcell says this:

The problem with perfection, I realized, is that it leaves others with nothing to do but search for flaws.  In the Beekman garden, which had been sorely neglected lately, guests can wander and admire the plants and occasionally pull a weed or two.  It made them feel useful, helpful, a part of a bigger picture.  If the portrait was already completely painted, then there would be nothing left to do other than pick it apart.

Yes.  As someone who struggles with perfection issues, I found this endearing and poignant.  And it reminded me I should relax and let my dinner guests help me in the kitchen every once in awhile...

The food writing is superb, of course, and the birthday salad scene starting on page 220 is worth the price of admission alone.  Trust me.

This book is for those of you looking for a new perspective on the farming experience.  And think you might want to chuck it all and become a farmer?  You might want to read up first.  It can be beautiful, peaceful, and rewarding...but it ain't a walk in the park either.

Eat, drink, and be an armchair farmer.