RECIPES

BREAD AND MOTHER

The Basics for a Delicious Life

Grow Your Own Food...Or Not

Given my track record with houseplants I’m not entirely sure why I decided to expand my horticultural projects to include edible ‘crops.’ However this summer I found myself tending not only the standard pots of herbs like basil and oregano, but also a large unruly tomato plant and a fragile looking jalapeno pepper plant that arrived under my not-so-green thumb. In truth, the wonderful garden I used to pillage regularly in past summers was no longer available to me - sadly, the owner moved - and I was inspired (forced) to grow my own fresh produce.

How hard could this be? My daily walks took me past neighbors gardens full of tomatoes, zuchini, peppers and more. Emboldened by my years of relative success with pots of herbs I decided to up my game and plant tomatoes and peppers. Envisioning bowls of fresh salsa and plates of bruschetta I planted my tomato vine and pepper plant and sat back to watch them grow. Day after day I checked on my green charges, plucking a yellowed leaf here and flicking away a potentially destructive insect there.

When my tomato vine outgrew its pot I bought some stakes and twine and lovingly reined it back in. When my pepper plant drooped over the sides of its planter I purchsed a cage and gently propped it up. I delighted in each flower knowing it meant the promise of a sweet tomato or a fiery pepper. As the fruit began to form I felt as though I was watching a riveting slow motion National Geographic special. Every single morning I would walk outside to check on my ‘crops’ counting each tiny tomato globe and every eensy pepper.

The first day I realized something was wrong I counted fifteen tomatoes. I had counted sixteen the day before. I recounted and then counted them again. I lifted up the leaves to see if maybe one was hidden. My tomato plant was gaslighting me. Maybe I had miscounted. The next day I counted fourteen. No mistaking it - I was being robbed. But who or what was the culprit?

One day - after three more green tomatoes went missing - I got my answer. Sitting looking out the window I saw a very cheeky squirrel squatting on my porch holding an oversized green tomato in his tiny theiving paws. When he saw me jump up he dropped it and ran. I picked up the partially eaten globe and almost tossed it after the fleeing rodent but thought the better of it. This might be the only tomato I get off this plant and I was determined to taste the fruits of my labors.

I cut off the gnawed bit and sliced the rest into three half inch thick green orbs. I made fried green tomatoes with those three slices and they were the dearest, most loved fried green tomato slices I’ve ever eaten since I did not get a single other tomato off that vine. Not one. Sixteen beautiful tomatoes - well, fifteen and a half, down the gullet of the family of squirrels that seem to have discovered an all-you-can-eat, open 24 hours a day diner that was my poor tomato plant.

And, yes, I understand squirrels need to eat too but after decimating half my yield (that would be eight tomatoes for those math obsessed) I set up nets around my tomatoes to protect my remaining crop. Creeping out in the morning I half expected to find my fuzzy maurauders hung up in the netting. But these were a crafty bunch. There was never any sign of the stealthy robbers. The net was draped as usual, undisturbed, and the only sign that anything was amiss was my steadily dropping numbers in produce. How they managed it remains a mystery. I toyed with the idea of setting up a video camera but the expense and effort just seemed to be throwing good money after bad. Anyway, I’m sure the video would show a squirrel sliding easily under my netting stopping just briefly on the rim of my pot to thumb his tiny nose at the camera. And really, who needs that?

Fried Green Tomatoes (Preferably unchewed by Squirels)

3 large green tomatoes

¼ cup flour

¼ cup cornmeal

2 eggs beaten

butter and oil for frying

salt and pepper to taste with a pinch (or two) of cayenne pepper

Slice the tomatoes into ½ inch slices and dredge both sides of each slice in flour to coat. Then dip each floured slice into the egg coating both sides and then dredge in the cornmeal til coated on both sides. Place each slice in a fry pan preheated with butter and oil and fry until golden brown on each side - about 2 or 3 minutes per side. Serve with a dollop of fresh remoulade (a few tablespoons of mayo mixed with a squirt of siracha and a couple of tablespoons of dill pickle relish).

Chocolate is Everything.

Chocolate wins. If chocolate was a person it would be the one who wins everything - the one everybody loves. Yeah, that person. Vanilla just cannot catch a break. When someone describes a person as being kind of ‘vanilla’ that is decidedly not a compliment. Vanilla equals boring and plain. But chocolate means exciting and wonderful - even romantic. We gush about chocolate - say we can’t live without it. ‘I’m going to go out and get roses and vanilla for Valentines Day!’ said no one ever. Yup, chocolate wins everything. And, if we’re being honest, chocolate deserves to win everything. I mean it’s chocolate - it not only has taste, it has lineage.

The Mayans of Central America get credit for starting the whole chocolate craze. Back in 900 AD these early baristas were grinding cocoa pods up into a paste to brew a frothy chocolate drink. However, once those Spanish conquistadors got a taste of the good stuff it was all over….literally all over the world. Chocolate may have been one of the few good things to have been spread around by the conquistadors. And once this magic cacao bean hit the shores of France it was transformed into the culinary wonder it remains to this day.

We drink it, we sculpt it, we coat everything from ants to strawberries with it and we cannot get enough of it. And while there are a zillion possible ways to serve chocolate I’m going with a tried and true chocolate recipe - chocolate cake. Pretty much everyone loves chocolate cake and it doesn’t need a celebration to bring out this beauty. Two delicious layers of moist chocolate buttermilk cake wrapped in smooth velvety chocolate frosting. The Mayans would be proud...they might even crown you God of the Cacao Bean.

Note: I did add a teaspoon of almond extract because I love chocolate almond anything. But you can leave the almond extract out of the recipe if you prefer your chocolate straight up. I also add just a pinch of instant expresso coffee powder to deepen the chocolate flavor but you can omit that as well. Now with beaters held like scepters in your hands go forth like the Mayan God of Cacao that you are and maketh that chocolatey deliciousness!

Mayan Chocolate Almond Buttermilk Cake

2 cups all-purpose flour

¾ cup good quality unsweetened cocoa powder

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

¾ tsp salt

½ tsp instant coffee powder

1 and ½ cup buttermilk

3 large eggs

1 cup butter softened

1 cup granulated sugar

1 cup brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp almond extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, salt and coffee powder (if using) in a large bowl. In a separate bowl cream the softened butter with the sugars until smooth. Add vanilla and almond (if using almond) and buttermilk and whip til well blended. Add flour mixture to the butter mixture and whip until forms a smooth batter. Divide batter equally between two 9-inch greased cake pans and bake in the oven for 30 to 40 minutes until toothpick comes out clean and cake springs back when pressed.

Allow cakes to cool then frost with the Mayan Dark Chocolate Frosting.

Mayan Dark Chocolate Frosting

2 and ¾ cups confectioners sugar

6 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

6 tablespoons butter (softened)

5 tablespoons evaporated milk

1 and ½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Use good quality dark chocolate cocoa powder if you can find it otherwise any unsweetened cocoa powder will do. I like to top this cake with chocolate covered cacao nibs if you can find them. They are tiny cacao beans enrobed in dark chocolate and lend a slightly bitter dark chocolate tang to the rich buttermilk cake and frosting. I use evaporated milk instead of heavy cream because it has less water content in it and it has a slightly carmelized flavor I like in this frosting. You could probably use heavy cream but add tablespoon by tablespoon slowly til it becomes the consistency you like.

Mix the sugar and cocoa powder together in a large bowl. Whip the butter with the milk and vanilla til smooth and add to the dry ingredients. Mix all ingredients well until it forms a smooth velvety frosting. Frost the cooled cakes and sprinkle with the cacao nibs. Serve with dark chocolate ice cream for the ultimate chocolate experience - a dessert fit for a Mayan King or Queen!

Eating France

‘Eating France’ sounds a little like Godzilla and in a way that’s how I felt on a trip to that beautiful, delicious country. Just wrap the whole charming place up in that crinkly bread paper and I’ll eat it right here. J’adore France and all its perfumy cheeses, crusty breads, rich pates and flaky pastries. Oh, and the wine isn’t bad either.

In fact, for the entire two weeks we were there I don’t think I had a single bad meal except for a whole grilled fish plucked minutes before from the Mediterranean just steps away from the restaurant. But the fact I didn’t enjoy that meal was no fault of the fish or the chef. I’m afraid for all my foodie bravado I’m still a bit squeamish about whole fish (those eyes so accusing) and my palate is a bit too Americanized for the briny, oily fish that was served up.

Of course it doesn’t hurt that the famers markets we visited were held in ancient stone villages festooned with huge terracota urns full of geraniums but those markets were some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Carts piled high with bright red cherries and tables groaning under blocks of fresh cheeses of every imaginable kind. Baskets stuffed with country loaves and spiky bunches of fresh herbs like chicory and tarragon. Long ropes of dried sausage draped like garlands across the tents. It was like a gorgeous Old Master oil painting everywhere you turned. All the senses bombarded in an exquisitely delectable way.

For all the accolades and tributes to their food what the French have really mastered is the art of simplicity. Their food is delicious not because of the complexity of the cooking - although they’ve mastered that as well - it’s more about the freshness and the flavors. Instead of some complicated, ingredient-filled salad dressing the French will squeeze a lemon into some high quality olive oil whisk in a pinch of salt and voila! That lemony vinegrette - just three simple ingredients - tossed with farmers market arugula is heaven with a French accent. When they aren’t whipping up some decadent pastry the French will often make dessert of seasonal berries and fresh cream with a sprig of mint. It’s why - despite all the cream and butter and wine - the French are among the slimmest population on the planet. They eat simply and in season.

The flounder recipe below is inspired by the simple, fresh and delicious meals I enjoyed in France. Despite my one bad experience with the fish in the little town on the Mediterranean I think fish is another dish the French excel at because keeping it simple and flavorful is key. I like mild fish - not the oily variety like sardines or the unfortunate Mediterranean fish I was served which was mackerel - and flounder is among the mildest of fish. Like the lemony vinegrette, this fish recipe only uses a few fresh ingredients and can be put on a plate for dinner within 20 or 30 minutes. And, more important, like the French - it is subtly elegant and tastes magnifique!

Flounder a La Francaise

Two Flounder filets (about 1 pound)

1 cup good quality bread crumbs (I make my own from stale bread)

5 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

salt and pepper

lemon wedges

Melt the butter and oil together and toss with the chopped parsley and bread crumbs until well blended. Place the filets on a rimmed baking sheet and sprinkle with salt and pepper liberally. Cover tops of filets with the bread crumb mixture and dot with a little extra butter if desired. Bake in a 425 degree oven for 15 minutes until done. Serve on a bed of arugula tossed in the lemon vinegrette and lemon wedges. Bon apetit!

When Your Dinner is Staring Back at You

If you’re like me you don’t particularly like food with eyes. Like a whole fish. However, I’ve recently overcome this aversion to food-with-a-face after reading Anthony Bourdain’s ‘Kitchen Confidential’. Bourdain’s fearless forays into dining and cooking are legendary and, for the somewhat squeamish foodies like me, inspirational.

Sadly while Bourdain is gone, his gusto for food adventures lives on through his books and television shows. Bourdain’s style and way with words won him legions of fans. After swallowing a beating cobra heart he told viewers it was a “very athletic, agressive oyster” and famously exclaimed after eating warthog anus “behold the worst meal of my life.” You may not like Bourdain but when it comes to food he is the ultimate adventurer.

Which is why I found myself staring down at a glassy eyed whole fish the other day. I had just finished a chapter on some of Bourdain’s favorite meals and whole roasted fish was one of them. Thankfully raw seal eyeballs (another of his bizarre meals) was not among his favorites and I’m pretty sure my local grocery store doesn’t stock them anyway. And while some would scoff at my even thinking that a whole fish constitutes a grand ‘adventure’ in cooking or eating...you can just go enjoy a bowlful of warthog anus.

It’s important that the fish is fresh and that you have a professional (usually the guy behind the seafood counter) clean and prepare your finned friend. While I’m certainly no expert I do know the basic rule of thumb when it comes to determining freshness. Eyes should be clear. The fish’s eye not yours. And, the fish shouldn’t smell, well, too fishy. That’s pretty much it. I chose Red Snapper because it’s a mild white fish but you can make this recipe with any whole fish you’d like.

And if you’re still reading this and wondering whether you’re up for cooking a whole fish I will just leave you with this quote from Bourdain’s ‘Kitchen Confidential’ which, while referencing his culinary travels, really speaks to a basic fearlessness that can spark revelations in the kitchen.

“Do we really want to travel in hermetically sealed popemobiles through the rural provinces of France, Mexico and the Far East, eating only in Hard Rock Cafes and McDonald’s? Or do we want to eat without fear, tearing into the local stew, the humble taqueria’s mystery meat, the sincerely offered gift of a lightly grilled fish head?” The following recipe is me getting out of my culinary ‘popemobile’ and cooking outside my comfort zone.

Roasted Whole Fish

1 fresh Red Snapper (4 lbs)

1 sprig rosemary

½ lemon sliced into three slices

3 cloves garlic

Olive oil for basting

Salt and pepper

Rub salt and pepper on the inside of the gutted fish. Place the slices of lemon inside the gut along with the sprig of rosemary and the cloves of garlic. Place the fish on a roasting pan that has been oiled. Rub oil on the outside of the whole fish and sprinkle with more salt and pepper. Place fish in the preheated oven (450 degrees) and cook for 30 minutes. The fish is done when the meat is no longer translucent and is white throughout. I serve the roasted fish with a drizzle of basil olive oil which is just ¼ cup of good olive oil with sprig of basil and a pinch of salt put in a blender and blended til smooth.

Bless My Biscuits...Please

I’m a transplanted southerner and everytime I try to make biscuits I am reminded of that fact. Everyone in the South just seems to be born knowing how to make light-as-a-cloud, fluffy biscuits. So, as a northerner I was determined that if I didn’t get the genetic gift of biscuit-baking by birth I would earn it by sheer will...and many, many biscuit fails.

While I’ve probably made more hockey-puck biscuits than light-as-a-cloud ones I have finally discovered the deep, dark secret of biscuit making. You need to be born in the South. No, just kidding (kind of), you need to back away from everything you ever thought about bread baking because this is biscuit baking. In other words, no kneading. I am sure many of you (mostly southerners but a few savvy northerners) are shaking your heads as if my eureka moment is pure ‘DUH’ but this northerner had no idea...until recently.

Anything related to bread was just begging to be kneaded and many recipes I followed for biscuits omitted the crucial instructions…’combine flour, buttermilk, salt, baking powder and chilled butter and BACK AWAY FROM THE BOWL!” Seriously. My northern sensibilities wanted to just knead the heck out of those sweet little powdery nuggets but then one day I stumbled upon ‘the gift’. Buried in the recipe for Southern-style Biscuits was the crucial warning ‘a light touch is essential, handle the dough and the biscuits as little as possible’.

Eureka! It really was that simple. I had tried Lily flour, unbleached organic flour, bread flour and every kind of buttermilk and baking powder the stores offered and the whole time I was baking hockey-pucks the missing ingredient was benign neglect of that biscuit dough! I can do benign neglect! So, the recipe that follows is pure simplicity. Just flour (any kind will do, trust me), baking powder, salt and cold butter...and benign neglect. Yup, it’s the essential ingredient in any southern light-as-a-cloud biscuit. Take it from a weary northerner...just back away from the bowl y’all.

South By North Biscuits

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

¼ teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

6 tablespoons VERY COLD butter cubed

1 cup buttermilk

Mix dry ingredients together in a large bowl and add butter. Pinch the flour mixture together with the butter until it all forms a kind of coarse, grainy sand texture. Pour in the buttermilk and mix until just combined - it should be a shaggy, wet dough. DO NOT OVERMIX Y’ALL! form into biscuits and bake at 450 for 10 to 15 minutes until just golden brown - don’t overbake!

(Most recipes call for rolling this dough out and cutting it into cute (read ‘perfect’) circles but I’m a big fan of simply tearing pieces of dough off and quickly forming them into shapes vaguely resembling circles (or maybe an Egyptian pyramid). Just don’t hold those little darlin’s too long in your hot lil’ hands honey. You need to act as though that biscuit dough is red hot and hard to handle. And, THAT is the secret to light-as-a-cloud, fluffy biscuits y’all).

Giving Thanks

I’m reading a book called ‘Sapiens’ right now and it’s basically about our evolution from hunter/foragers over 10,000 years ago to farmers and then IT experts. That’s pretty much the Reader’s Digest version anyway. The reason I bring this up on Thanksgiving is that we always focus on the pilgrims and Native Americans on this holiday which is appropriate given that’s supposedly how this celebration began. But, as I’m reading about our fore-fathers and mothers (the really hairy big-browed ones, not the founders of this country) I’m struck by how easy all this Thanksgiving prep is compared to meals being served up 10,000 years ago.

As I shop for all the traditional Thanksgiving food stuff in the grocery store I hear folks complaining about ingredients they can’t find or how long the lines are at the checkout. Friends tell me they’re stressed out over food preparations and the work involved in making all those pies, potatoes, rolls - you fill in the blank. Okay, I may have whined about the lack of an extra fridge or oven at this time of the year when my own refrigerator is bursting with ingredients and pyrex dishes full of green beans, stuffing and mashed potatoes are lined up on the counter waiting to go in the oven like planes circling the airport waiting to land. I may have even been one of those ‘folks’ complaining about ingredients I couldn’t find at the store (dry mustard). Whatever. Holidays are stressful... I mean WONDERFUL!

So, as I was fretting over the lack of dry mustard and my lack of extra appliances I suddenly stopped and thought of going out to eat at a restaurant for Thanksgiving. Just kidding! I thought of my ancient - I mean ancient - ancestors. The ones who had to run down their food and gather their greens and berries and grains every day. Those guys and gals. The ones with pronounced brows, shaggy bodies and strong hearts. And I wondered if they complained about the holidays because we know they held big feasts back then.

In fact, we have ample evidence of ancient feasts going as far back as 10,000 years ago when our ancestors built pits and other cooking installations where fossilized bits of bone and ashes have been found. Successfully taking down a mastadon was undoubtedly cause for celebration although I don’t believe ancient sapiens were making wishes over that breastbone. Anyway, thinking of my great, great, great, great, great grandsapiens made me realize how easy all this holiday prep really is. How thankful I am that I don’t have to go out and slay a mastadon (they have the most beautiful brown eyes and long lashes) and how grateful I am that, other than driving in the parking lot at Wegmans, my life is not in danger as I make these preparations.

Minor irritations aside (although seriously how hard is it to stock dry mustard?) I felt my grinch heart grow three sizes that day as I sat and pondered these lucky facts. And then I took up my spatula with a grateful and light heart and I began to make my green bean casserole...without dry mustard. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Fresh No-cook Cranberry Relish

(NOTE: Given all the trouble I went to finding dry mustard to make the green bean casserole you might think I’d put up a recipe for the casserole instead of cranberry relish. I thought about it but unfortunately I forgot to take a photo of the casserole so we’re doing the relish recipe instead. Although now that I think of it I don’t have a photo of that either so you’re getting a relish recipe with photos of a turkey and a pie which we made and which were absolutely delicious by the way. It looks more Thanksgiving-ish than a pic of the relish anyway.)

1 bag fresh cranberries

1 orange

1 cup sugar

1 tablespoon brandy

Pinch of salt

Place all ingredients into a blender and puree. It’s that caveman simple and deliciously fresh! Something needs to be fast and easy on Thanksgiving...just another thing to be grateful for.

Hot Pie Pot Pie

Temps have been dipping below 60 degrees most mornings and evenings here in the South and fall has me in a frenzy whipping up all my favorite cold-weather meals. Pot Pie is undoubtedly one of my favorite comfort foods, and apparently one of my fiance's too. This recipe yielded two pies and one was already gone the first night I served it. With two pies, you can serve one for dinner and freeze the other for the next cold night.

Hot Pie Pot Pie

2 lb chicken breasts, boneless and skinless

2 cup chicken broth (or enough to cover chicken breasts)

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp ground black pepper

1 1/2 cup half and half

3 Tbsp butter

1 medium onion, chopped

1 cup celery, chopped

1/3 cup all purpose flour

1 1/2 cup frozen mixed vegetables, thawed (I used green beans, corn, carrots, and peas)

2 medium potatoes, cooked and cubed (or one small can white potatoes, cubed)

1 Tbsp parsley freshly chopped

1/2 tsp thyme, dried

2 pie pastry shells (typically frozen in desert section in grocery store)

2 pie crust covers (usually with the refridgerated buscuits and dough in grocery store)

1 egg, lightly beaten

Cooking in Paradise

That title ‘cooking in paradise’ may seem to some an oxymoron. Like Jumbo Shrinp. I get it. Many folks think paradise is NOT cooking but for the woman who gets her Ommm on by making pretzels I was ridiculously excited to cook ‘local’ fare on a recent trip to Maui.

While many vacationers to this gorgeous island would be out on a sailboat or off snuba-ing (yes, that’s the word for a new hybrid of snorkel/scuba) I found myself salivating - literally - at the chance to stroll around one of Maui’s amazing farmer’s markets. Talk about paradise! I was in heaven walking up and down the lines of stalls offering brilliantly colored fruits and vegetables that looked like they had dropped on the market tables from another planet.

Neon pink Dragon fruits, Jackfruits looking like plump hedgehogs and Longan’s - little grape-like beads of sweet white flesh. Every stall was bedecked in brightly colored exotic gems and merchants were happy to provide samples for those starry-eyed ‘main lander’s’ like me.

“It’s Rambutan,” a local tells me holding out what looks like a deep red furball coughed up by a very sick cat. “It’s also called ‘dragon’s eye’” he adds pointing to the spiky peel. “Looks, um, delicious?” I reply tenatively taking the dangerous looking fruit from his outstretched hand. “No! You have to peel it first!” He exclaims horrified as I move to pop it directly in my mouth. Oh. Right. Feeling like the ignorant main lander that I am I dutifully peel the dragon’s eye to reveal a shiny pale globe of sweetness which I immediately ingest and am transported to, well, paradise.

I could have spent hours ambling up and down the rows of stalls sampling the various tropical treasures feeling like a kid in a candy store with a belly full of Rambutans and Cherimoyas. But there was snuba and sailing to do so I tore myself away with a bulging bag of ripe mangoes. Yup, surrounded by all those strange, exotic fruits and veggies I panicked and went with what I knew. I did, however, buy some Rambutans to plop in our cocktails as a garnish so I wasn’t a total main lander loser. Next time I visit Maui I promised myself to be a tad more adventurous with my cooking. Dragon eyeball salsa anyone?

The following recipe is a fresh mango salsa which I paired with a grilled pork tenderloin and homemade coleslaw. The photos I took look like a fake backdrop but I promise they’re not. This was paradise after all. Food not only tastes better in paradise but it also photographs better too.

Mock Dragon Eyeball Salsa

3 ripe mangoes chopped

½ red pepper diced

½ red onion diced

½ cup cilantro chopped

1 jalapeno diced and seeded

1 avacodo chopped

Lime Vinegrette

juice of two limes

2 tablespoons good olive oil

pinch of salt

Combine all the fresh ingredients for the salsa and whisk the vinegrette until well blended. Pour vinegrette over salsa, stir gently and let sit for 15 to 20 minutes before serving. You can serve this fresh mango salsa with grilled pork slices over rice with homemade coleslaw. It’s a healthy and delicious taste of paradise! You’ll be saying ‘Mahalo’ with every bite.

Food Tastes Better
at the Beach

Seriously. Maybe it’s the fresh summer beach produce - those juicy red globes of deliciousness known as beach tomatoes - or maybe it’s the sun and salt air but it’s a fact...food just tastes better at the beach.

I’m not talking about the slapdash picnic folks lug out to the beach in coolers - that’s usually just chips and sodas and beer and sandy sandwiches. No, I’m talking about those dinners after a long day on the beach, after you’ve showered off the salt and sand and you’re sporting that sun-kissed glowy look (because you used SPF 15 instead of waterproof 75). When you’re kicked back on the porch with a cold margatini and a squeeze of fresh lime and the wafting curls of smoke from coals on the grill are like the promise of good things to come.

Beach life. It’s why we spend hours and hours in traffic to get there and why the sound of waves crashing are tonic to our souls. It’s a primitive need and probably comes from when we all began our evolutionary lives as fish. Whatever the reason, sitting down to a meal served on an old weather-worn picnic table outside on the deck on a warm summer evening as the sun is dipping down, and someone has just thoughtfully refreshed your margatini, is just about one of the most wonderful eating experiences you can have.

And, because you’re at the beach you’re probably on vacation (unless of course you’re lucky enough to actually live at the beach) and so no one expects you to spend alot of time cooking over a hot stove. Some of my favorite beach meals are the simplest - a fresh salad, grilled burgers and - of course - corn on the cob. Another great beach treat is just plain white bread - that marshmellowy white bread like Wonder - with a generous smear of good mayo and a thick slice of a beach tomato with some sea salt and cracked pepper. Nothing could be easier or more delightful. Simple ingredients, simple prep with delicious results.

Of course, no discussion about beach meals would be complete without talking about Mother Nature’s ultimate grocery store - the ocean - and all the edible wonders to be found there. I’ve enjoyed many beach meals of fresh grilled fish, steamed lobster and clams but my favorite are the crabs and while I understand the allure of steamed crabs with Old Bay seasoning I prefer mine already cracked and served up as fresh crab cakes.
The key to a perfect crab cake is not to overwork the crab meat when you mix the ingredients. You want those beautiful hunks of delicate crab meat to be bound together with the barest amount of fresh ingredients to spotlight nature’s perfect crustacean. And do yourself a favor, make a little fresh tartar sauce to go with those magnificent cakes. Just a little good mayo with a couple of stirs of sweet pickle relish, a squirt of siracha and a little salt and pepper and you’ve got the perfect accompaniment.

So maybe the secret of these tasty beach meals isn’t the beach at all. Maybe the real secret is just about keeping it simple and local and fresh. Which just means that ‘Life’s a Beach’ wherever you are!

Crab Cakes with Fresh Tartar Sauce
1 lb fresh lump crab meat (expensive but it’s worth it!)
½ cup ground ritz crackers or panko bread crumbs
¼ cup diced celery
¼ cup diced red onion
1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley
3 tablespoons good mayo
1 egg lightly beaten
couple of dashs worstershire sauce
1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
salt and pepper to taste

Mix the egg and mayo together and add the other ingredients. Add the crab last and mix til just combined. If the cakes don’t hold together you can add a bit more crumbs but don’t add too much or you’ll lose the crabby goodness! Make 8 to 10 crab cakes and place on a cookie sheet and place in the refridgerator for about an hour so they hold their shapes. You can lightly flour the crab cakes and then place a couple of tablespoons of butter and a couple of tablespoons of canola oil in a sautee pan. Heat the butter and oil and fry the crab cakes until nicely browned.

Fresh Tartar Sauce
3 tablespoons of good mayo (Dukes or Hellmans)
1 tablespoon of sweet pickle relish
1 teaspoon siracha sauce (or ketchup)
salt and pepper

Rustic Onion Tart

“Rustic” is usually the word I use when I make pies or tarts because it means I don’t have to roll out my crusts in perfect circles. In fact, my pie crusts roll out more like trapezoids but they taste just as good. All this to say, don’t let geometry hold you back from making your own pie crusts. Simply roll your dough into whatever shape you can muster, place it in a pie or tart pan and press the rest into place. Trust me it will taste just as good as the homemade perfect circle crust and way better than the store bought.

This week’s recipe is a lovely rustic onion tart. I adore onions and all their relatives - the leeks, the scallions, the shallots and the chives and the distant relative garlic - the whole big stinkin’ family. And while I love nothing more than a thick slice of raw red onion on a juicy burger it’s true that’s not exactly nature’s breath freshener. But when you cook onions they lose most of their oniony pungence and actually turn sweet and mild. Long, slow cooking tames the onion’s bite turning it into the most delicate, flavorful bulb.

And, as an added bonus, sauteeing onions makes your home smell just heavenly. While you’ve probably never seen an air freshener labeled “slow cooked onions” I think I may have to bring that idea to Shark Tank because it’s genius. The scent of simmering onions wafting through the house is the aromatherapy equivalent of a blinking Vegas billboard advertising “deliciousness coming soon!”

So dust off that old tart pan (or pie tin) and grab your swim googles (good for slicing onions) and let’s get started on the Rustic Onion Tart!

Rustic Onion Tart
Crust
(makes two 8 inch pie or tarts)
3 cups of all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 sticks very cold butter cut into cubes
7 tablespoons very cold water (more as needed)

Onion mixture
41/2 tablespoons butter
3 large onions sliced thin
11/2 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon fresh cracked pepper
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon dried thyme
½ cup parmesan cheese (divided)

Butter two 8-inch pie or tart pans

Place 3 cups of flour into large bowl and add salt. Drop cubed butter into flour and salt and begin combining the ingredients with your hands squeezing the cold butter cubes until most are incorporated into the flour resembling a coarse sand. Add the cold water gradually working the dough until it forms a ball. You may need to add a couple more tablespoons of water if the dough is very dry and crumbly. You do not want a wet dough though. Don’t overwork the dough but when it comes together into a ball you can wrap it in plastic wrap and place in the fridge while you make the onion filling.

In a large saute pan melt the butter and then add the sliced onions. Saute on medium low heat for 15 minutes until onions are wilted and transparent. Add the salt and pepper and thyme. Stir in the cup of cream and simmer covered for 20 minutes. Remove cover and simmer 15 more minutes until cream has mostly evaporated.

Let the onion mixture cool while you remove crust from fridge and let it rest for 15 minutes on the counter. Using a rolling pin just whack the dough a few times while it’s still in the plastic wrap to get it into a thinner disc. Unwrap and cut the dough in half. Take on of the halves and continue whacking until the dough is about an inch in thickness. Use the rolling pin to begin rolling the dough out until it forms a shape about one quarter inch thick. Transfer crust to pie or tart pan and press into the pan until desired shape is formed. Don’t worry if there’s not enough dough to go all the way up the sides of the pie tin and use and cut off any overlapping pieces and use to patch wherever more crust is needed.

Once you’ve got your crust in your buttered pie or tart pans you can scoop the onion mixture into each crust placing one half the mixture in one and one half into the other. Take the ½ cup of grated parma and sprinkle half over each tart or ¼ cup over each tart (more if you’re a cheesy tart like me).
Bake in a 350 degree oven for 40 minutes or until bubbly and browned. Allow to cool and set before slicing. Serve with a green salad, a glass of prosecco and light those candles on your table - this tasty tart deserves some ambiance.

Let Them Eat Cake!

Is there anything more fun than birthday cakes? You can have all the presents and party hats - just give me the CAKE!! And, now with all the crazy fun decorations and funky candles to choose from baking a birthday cake is an artistic adventure! My new fave are the French Dragees, those shiny bright balls of color that add a certain 'je ne sais quoi' to any birthday cake. Nevermind that they are deemed 'non-edible' by the FDA in 29 states and banned in California (seriously!) they are just so darn pretty! And, when you read why they're non-edible (trace amounts of metal may turn skin grey after consuming 40,000 dragees) you might just engage in risky behavior and throw a few on your birthday cake too! Heck we put non-edible flammables on our birthday cakes so why not? Even if it's not a birthday party go ahead and dress up your cake with some candles and dragees...because it's CAKE and that's always cause for celebration!

While the favorite flavor in America is indisputably chocolate we're suckers for the underdog and so we're going with the good old stalwart vanilla . Besides, all these fancy schmancy cake decorations seem to showcase better on white icing and that blank white frosting canvas just brings out the artiste in everyone. This rich and flavorful vanilla cake with layers of creamy vanilla frosting will have you singing 'happy birthday to meeee' with every bite!

Vanilla Cake
2 cups all-purpose or cake flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter (softened)
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 and 1/4 cup buttermilk

Mix flour and baking powder and salt in a bowl and set aside. Cream butter and sugar and eggs together. Add vanilla and buttermilk and beat until well blended and creamy. Add flour mixture and stir until all ingredients form a smooth batter.

Vanilla Buttercream Frosting
1 and 1/2 cups butter (softened)
6 cups powdered sugar
1 and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 teaspoons buttermilk

Mix butter, buttermilk and vanilla together and SLOWLY add the powdered sugar (to avoid a powdered sugar explosion) until you obtain a creamy frosting. You can add a teeny bit more buttermilk if you prefer a softer frosting.

WORLD'S BEST CHILI

I don’t know what it is that inspires such fierce competition with chili recipes but it’s a real thing and it’s kind of scary. Pizza recipes, stew recipes, lasagna recipes - everyone has got one but none bring out the “mine is the world’s BEST” superlatives quite like chili. Sure, there’s pride in your mother’s angel food cake recipe and a sense of achievement in a well crafted enchilada but they don’t have “competitions” to determine which is the world’s BEST. No, competitions are reserved for chili and if you’ve ever attended one of these high stakes events you’ll know that it is deadly serious and frankly just a tad nervous-making. Having someone (typically the cook of said chili) stare you down while you sample his or her “world’s BEST” chili kind of sucks the joy out of eating and certainly lends itself to a killer case of heartburn.

And, everyone has that certain “secret ingredient” designed to elevate their chili to the Pantheon of all chili recipes. From beer to chocolate to cinamon and chipotle - serious chili cooks will tell you they have discovered the key to a really delicious chili that makes it stand out from all the rest...the world’s BEST! So, because I’m not one to quibble with experts (especially when they are staring me down holding a sharp chopping knife) and because I subscribe to the ‘more is more’ theory, I have incorporated ALL the “secret ingredients” into my world’s BEST chili recipe. Well, almost all of them. I did leave out fish sauce, peanut butter and flaming hot cheetos. Seriously folks, there are people out there putting fish sauce and peanut butter in your chili. (I kind of get the flaming hot cheetos but I think I might try them as a topping).

Anyhoo, my chili recipe is called “Kitchen Sink Chili” for obvious reasons. And, while I don’t think it’s going to win any world competition, I do think it’s pretty good chili. My secret ingredient? Just enjoying the aroma of simmering chili while you kick back with the leftover beer from the recipe. Why do you think they call it “Chill - i?” Chill out everybody it’s not a competition….

Kitchen Sink Chili

1 lb ground beef
1 small onion chopped
½ red pepper chopped
4 cloves garlic minced
1 tablespoon chili powder
½ tablespoon chipotle powder
1 teaspoon cumin
couple of shakes of red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon salt (more or less to taste)
½ bottle of beer (stout or anything on hand)
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder
3 chipotle peppers from a can (chopped)
1 14 oz can fire roasted tomatoes with their sauce
1 14 oz can black beans
1 teaspoon corn meal (for thickening)

Saute onions, peppers and garlic in two tablespoons of olive oil for about two minutes. Add ground beef and saute til no longer pink. Add spices - chili, chipotle, cumin, salt, cocoa and red pepper flakes. Continue stirring until combined. Add can of tomatoes (I like the fire roasted but you can use regular) and the beer. Add chopped chipotle peppers. Simmer for an hour to an hour and a half. Add black beans about a half an hour before you finish cooking the chili so they don’t get too mushy. You can add the cornmeal at the same time as the beans to promote thickening.

You can serve the chili alone or over rice and garnish with fresh cilantro, sharp cheddar cheese, sour cream, scallions, black olives and of course, chopped flaming cheetos.

Would you say your Pesto is the best-o?

" I don't know but I would say it's pretty good-o." For some of you, pesto reminds of you of the Friend's episode, "The One With Rachel's Date" and the hilariously awkward interaction between Pheobe and Moninca's sous chef. For everyone else, Pesto means summer. Just the smell of basil transports you to long sunny days and terracotta pots brimming with bushy basil plants. So it’s no surprise that when we find ourselves dragging through the worst of winter months - late January and early February - we run to the nearest grocery store and buy a bunch of those succulent green leaves and whip up a home remedy sure to banish the winter blues.

Not only is Pesto a cheap and effective prescription for the winter doldrums but it’s easy, quick to make and tastes delicious. Placing the summer bouquet of basil on your kitchen counter in the middle of January feels decadent and luxurious all at once, like you’re having one over on old man winter. And, a forkful of the garlicky herby sauce reminds you that you can make it through the ice and snow and freezing rain because THIS summer goodness is just around the corner.

Pesto Sauce
One bunch of fresh basil (about three cups of leaves)
3 cloves garlic (less if you want to buss your guests, more if you want to ward off vampires)
¼ cup toasted pine nuts (don’t skip the toasting it brings out the buttery nuttiness but make sure you watch those little gems closely because they love to burn)
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
¼ cup parmesan
½ cup good olive oil (more if you like a thinner sauce, less if you like it sturdier)
Salt and pepper as you like

Place all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth. Serve over fresh pasta or spoon directly into your mouth as an antidote to winter.

Gory Beets

One of my favorite things about cooking with fresh beets is scaring the living daylights out of people. Beets mean Halloween fun all year round because it turns out the beet juice (or "beet blood" as I call it) you get when chopping fresh beets is a scare riot. Use the following recipe to make a delish roasted beet salad...or just to shock a few of your guests into thinking you've sliced a digit or two. (Disclaimer: Do not try this beet joke on anyone iwth a heart problem).

While chopping fresh beets for the salad you'll notice you get a lot of that beet blood everywhere - your hands, the knife...you get the picture. When your hands are dripping with beet blood simply take your beet bloody self - along with your beet bloody knife - to your unsuspecting dinner guests and give that Academy Award winning performance you've always dreamed of giving. You know the one - full of expressive eye rolls and moans, holding the beet bloody knife up high all Fatal Attraction-like and gasping "Oh my God! Look what I've done! Call 911!" Works. Every. Single. Time. (Just make sure your guests don't actually call 911 or you'll pretty much ruin the dinner party).

Gory Beets
1 Bunch Fresh Beets (peeled and chopped into one inch chunks) (Saving beet blood for the “performance”)
3 tbs olive oil
Salt and pepper
3 oz goat cheese (crumbled)
¼ cup pine nuts (toasted)
¼ cup scallions (minced)
½ lemon
Butter lettuce leaves (optional)

Toss beet chunks in olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast in oven at 425 degrees for 15 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool. Put roasted beets in a bowl and toss with crumbled goat cheese, toasted pine nuts and scallions. Place a butter lettuce leaf on each salad plate and arrange a spoonful of beet salad into each lettuce leaft. Drizzle the beets on the leaves with good olive oil followed by a squeeze of fresh lemon juice (using the ½ lemon to juice each plate). Sprinkle a bit more salt and pepper if needed. Serve room temperature to your guests (if they’re still around).

Marshmellow Memories

Some recipes are just about memories. These recipes usually aren’t too complicated, they aren’t sophisticated and they may not really even be all that delicious. But it’s not about the taste - or at least not all about the taste...it’s about how they make you feel. Rice Krispie Treats are that for me. They remind me of being 8 years old standing in the kitchen with my mother scraping nuggets of crunchy marshmellowy sweetness out of a bowl and into a greased square pan to cool.

My mother wasn’t much on baking. Slice and bake was considered ‘homemade’ in our house and it was an infrequent treat. Mostly we subsisted on Hydrox and Oreos which suited me just fine until I had my first taste of Rice Krisipie Treats. Boom!

Marshmellows and butter folded into a nutty puffed rice crunch transported this eight-year-old to Krispie nirvana. Buh-bye Hydrox, see ya Oreos...Rice Krispie Treats were the Holy Grail of sweets. And the fact that they were only three ingredients and didn’t involve the oven meant they became my mother’s favorite ‘homemade’ treat as well. Extra bonus was that ‘clean up’ included picking all those sticky gobs of rice krispie goodness off the bowl and placing them directly into the garbage disposal...me. Nom nom.

Years - and years - later I still get misty eyed about Rice Krispie Treats. Not the overly processed, waxy store-bought variety but the homemade kind. I can still see my mother leaning into that mixing bowl on her hip then turning it over to me saying ‘my arm is getting tired, want to help?’ The equivalent of hitting the 8-year-old lottery!
I knew this part of the process was deadly serious work. I had to move quickly before the marshmellow glue holding those puffed rice pieces hardened up like cement. The trick was to fold all the sticky melted marshmellow sauce into the rice krispies without crushing them and doing it fast to ensure its pliability as you poured it into the cooling pan. The fact that my mother was willing to entrust such a serious task to little 8-year-old me meant the world. I can still picture the two of us in that tiny kitchen with its black and white formica floor.

So here it is. An 8-year-olds gift to the culinary world...Rice Krispie Treats. If you haven’t made them in a while maybe you should invest $1.99 in a box of Crisp Rice Cereal (that’s the price of the Trader Joe’s variety) and a bag of marshmellows. You’re welcome.

Rice Krispie Treats
6 Cups Rice Krispie Cereal
3 ½ tablespoons butter
1 10 bag marshmellows
4 cups of jet puffed minimarshmellows or ⅓ of a 16oz tub of Marshmallow Fluff (I had some Fluff leftover from fudge making so while it’s not in the actual krispie treat orginal recipe it works if you’ve got some lying around.)

Melt the butter in a heavy sauce pan and pour in the marshmellows stirring constantly until thoroughly melted. Working quickly pour the hot sticky mess over the rice krispies in a bowl or pour the rice krispies directly into the hot sticky mess in the pan whichever works. When the whole sticky, gooey mix is ready simply scrape it into a buttered (or cooking sprayed) 13 x 9 inch pan to cool patting down to even it out in the pan. Once the mixture has cooled and hardened simply take a sharp knife and cut into squares - or circles or flowers or whatever your channeled 8-year-old self would like.

Note: Rice Krispie Treats lend themselves well to doctoring. That means sprinkling them with colored sprinkles once you get them into the pan or adding chocolate or butterscotch chips to the mix as your folding in the krispies. Just tap into your inner child and let him or her be your guide. I’m thinking about that scene in Elf when Buddy (Will Ferrell) is pouring M & Ms and maple syrup and oreo crumbles on top of spagetti...yeah, THAT inner child.

Grow Your Own Food...Or Not​

Chocolate is Everything.​

​Eating France

​When Your Dinner is Staring Back at You