Breezy Thursday

As American as Apple Pie

2012-02-16T00:06:00.005-05:00

Ask any number of cooks about their first experiences in the kitchen and you will likely get reminiscences of childhood. Many chefs can recount learning at the apron hem of a mother or grandmother. Others will recall a seminal moment in the making of their culinary minds.

One of my favorite seminal moments regards Chef Bobby Flay, who at 8 years of age asked his parents for a Christmas gift of an Easy-Bake Oven, which he did receive, apparently to his father’s chagrin, oven's being girl-stuff. Being of Flay’s generation, I completely understand the appeal of the Easy-Bake Oven, ubiquitous in the ‘70’s, in which one could bake a miniature cake with the heat of a light bulb. I wanted one of those so desperately you cannot even imagine. My parents never took the hint.

(Note the tag-line. And the tie-in, Good marketing, that.)

Luckily, they did allow me to bake in the real oven (supervised, of course). And the very first thing I ever remember learning to bake was an apple pie. The irony in my learning how to prepare this American staple is that I learned it in Buttevant, Co. Cork, Ireland from my Irish Grandma.

I was 4 years old and we were in her kitchen. It was the first time (and actually the last) that I did anything with my grandmother, my previous visit being as an infant. The pie baking episode was also the only time all three generations of women in my family would ever have that experience together.

My grandparent’s lived in a small cottage across from a cow pasture on a small piece of land where two roads diverged. Grandpa, a quiet blacksmith, and grandma, a formidable woman, had raised 10 children in that tiny house. It was damp and cold, but from the small high window in the bathroom you could hear the chickens out back talking to each other.

(Quite a few people for that tiny house! Only 7 kids here, mind you.)

I think Grandma chose to make an apple pie as a special treat for my dad, “the Yank”. We made the pastry dough from scratch of course, cutting cold butter into the flour. We peeled and chopped apples and tossed them in sugar and cinnamon. After the top crust was placed over the apples, my mom showed me how to score the edge with a fork. When the pie was done, it was served with cups of hot tea with milk and sugar: a quintessentially American dessert with a quintessentially Irish beverage.

As I grew up, my mom and I would occasionally bake an apple pie together, usually for a holiday or special occasion. We invariably ended up making an absolute mess of the kitchen, but we didn't care because we were laughing and talking and having so much fun. After I was on my own, mom would stay over for girls' nights and on one occasion we decided to bake a pie together like we did when I was a little. It is one of my fondest memories.

Mom was not naturally inclined to culinary pursuits. So, for the dishes that she did prepare, she relied heavily on her Betty Crocker cookbook (Betty was busy in those days, what with the Easy-Bake and all). Today that cookbook is mine. For the most part, it is pristine, but the section on pies, and particularly apple pies, is dog-eared and scorched.

Betty Crocker Apple Pie

Standard Pastry (9 inch two-crust pie)

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

2/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons shortening

4 to 5 tablespoons cold water

In medium bowl, mix 2 cups flour and 1 teaspoon salt. Cut in shortening, using pastry blender (or pulling 2 table knives through ingredients in opposite directions), until particles are size of small peas. Sprinkle with cold water, 1 tablespoon at a time, tossing with fork until all flour is moistened and pastry almost cleans side of bowl (1 to 2 teaspoons more water can be added if necessary).

Gather pastry into a ball. Divide in half; shape into 2 flattened rounds on lightly floured surface. Wrap in plastic wrap; refrigerate about 45 minutes or until dough is firm and cold, yet pliable. This allows the shortening to become slightly firm, which helps make the baked pastry more flaky. If refrigerated longer, let pastry soften slightly before rolling.

Filling

3/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup all purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

dash of salt (abt. 1/8 teaspoon)

6 cups thinly sliced pared tart apples

2 tablespoons butter or margarine

Heat oven to 425.

With floured rolling pin, roll one pastry round into round 2 inches larger than upside-down 9-inch glass pie plate. Fold pastry into fourths; place in pie plate. Unfold and ease into plate, pressing firmly against bottom and side.

In large bowl, mix sugar, flour, the cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. Stir in apples until well mixed. Turn into pastry-lined pie pan. Dot with butter (cut into small pieces).

Fold other pastry round into fourths and cut slits so steam can escape. Unfold top pastry over filling; trim overhanging edge 1 inch from rim of plate. Seal and flute edges. Cover edge with 2- to 3-inch strip of foil to prevent excessive browning.

Bake 40 to 50 minutes or until crust is brown and juice begins to bubble through slits in crust, removing foil for last 15 minutes of baking. Serve warm if desired.

Not your mama’s biscuits and Gravy…

2012-02-09T11:14:00.002-05:00

My latest culinary obsession is New Southern Food, the love child of traditional Southern ingredients (pork jowl, crawfish, grits, butter beans) and modern cooking techniques (molecular gastronomy, anyone?). The writer Josh Ozersky, in an article in Time, dubbed it “lardcore,” saying “it’s meticulous, it’s ballsy, and it doesn’t care what you think of it.” (http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,2027672,00.html) Already popular throughout the southeast, New Southern is headed North with a vengeance not seen since Robert E. Lee. Of course, the dissemination of this idea should receive a considerably better response from the North than the one Lee was advancing.

Now, it’s no secret that I have a love affair with Paula Deen, who is a classicist when it comes to Southern cuisine (her empire was built on fried chicken and mac ‘n’ cheese, for cryin’ out loud). I have also long followed the writing of Pableux Johnson and credit him with educating me on the New Orleans culinary scene. He has never steered me wrong with a restaurant recommendation, introducing me to the delightful food of Chef John Besh at August some time ago. (Mr. Johnson works with the Southern Foodways Alliance, an organization that studies, educates and celebrates all things culinary and Southern. He also has a kick-ass blog: http://bayoudog.com). And a few months back I discovered that I could make damn good grits for a native New Yorker (see my earlier post on Ree Drummond’s Creamy Bacon Cheese Grits). But all this is traditional Southern.

John Besh's August

My interest in New Southern was piqued when I read a New Yorker article (http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/10/31/111031fa_fact_bilger) about Charleston Chef Sean Brock who has championed the reclamation of traditional Southern foods that were in danger of being lost forever. From cultivating seeds from the 19^th century to breeding Ossabaw pigs, Chef Brock is bringing new (or is it old?) life to Southern cuisine. And you know, I can find no fault with a fellow worshiper of the pig! This is a chef who seriously loves vegetables, so much so that he has a veritable garden tattooed on his arm. And, in the style of frugal homemakers throughout the South, Chef Brock pickles and cans whatever produce he cannot use immediately. He is as locavore as locavore gets and his restaurants, McCrady’s and Husk, both in Charleston, are definitely on my must-eat-there list.

Chef Sean Brock with an armful of veggies

McCrady's Husk

So you can understand my excitement when a friend recommended we try Gravy, which bills itself as “the first New Southern restaurant in New York City.” In a town where Southern fare usually means soul food or barbeque, Chef is Michael Vignola, formerly of Michael Jordan’s The Steakhouse NYC, is trying his hand at the New Southern style to mixed results. To dip my toe in the pond, I made a reservation for Restaurant Week, the low-risk way to experiment with restaurants in a town where there are well over 20,000 eateries. Upon arrival, it was clear that the well-meaning hostess didn’t quite grasp the logic of seating a dining room for smooth service or the importance of checking coats in a small space. And speaking of that dining room: the décor is a quirky blend of city slick, rustic and Mad Men mod, which I assume is the designer’s vision of New Southern but there was something slightly disjointed about it.

Mod lounge at Gravy

brick walls, hickory tables and geometrics, oh my!

Since we are both food fanatics, my friend and I shared each course. We started with the Market Soup, which on the evening we dined was Butternut Squash with Bourbon-soaked Raisins, and the Market Chopped Salad. The soup had good sweetness with a bit of spice on the finish and the raisins were a fantastic twist. However, the salad was underwhelming, sorely in need of a touch more buttermilk ranch dressing and a liberal seasoning (a little salt and pepper goes a long way, folks).

We followed up with Black Garlic Braised Pork Butt, which was served in a pulled-pork style (minus the bun), accompanied by marinated arugula and topped with a citrus grit cake and mirliton relish. The pork was flavorful with hints of barbeque and Asian spice, but the grit cake was underdone and a bit bland. The unusual choice of relish is a nod to Creole cooking, as the mirliton is a common ingredient in holiday dishes in Louisiana. Also known as a chayote, this gourd is native to Mexico and has a very mild flavor and potato-like texture. You generally don’t see a lot of it in NYC restaurants, so that was an interesting surprise.

We also tried the ~~Corn Flake Crusted Chicken~~ (stuffed with Andouille sausage and cheddar cheese, I would have ordered it, but it was only a Restaurant Week lunch option), uh, I mean, the Scallops & Honey Grits. The scallops were perfectly cooked: grilled to a golden brown and melt-in-your-mouth tender, finished with a “Lobster Barbeque Jus” and corn relish. This dish exemplifies the New Southern twist on traditional fare; the smokiness of barbeque added to a very classic sauce. The grits were heavenly. And really, I am so obsessed with grits right now that it was almost all I cared about! Which is why I was thrilled that the entrees were accompanied by Gravy’s Signature Grits 3 Ways. “Honey, Porky and Cheesy” was how the runner described it (who by the way is the best thing happening in that restaurant). Cheesy was definitely the favorite, reminiscent of a delightful risotto of distant memory, the blend of cheeses hard to pin-point but so creamy and delicious that it hardly mattered. The aforementioned honey grits were breakfast the way you always wanted it, but at dinner. Porky let me down, sadly. There was something a bit grainy and sour about it which was surprising given how perfect the other two varieties were.

Scallops & Honey Grits

Desserts were merely good, not outstanding. We had Mississippi Mud and Pecan pies, the pecan being the better of the two. The Mississippi Mud was not ‘muddy’ enough. I expect richness in that style that was missing; it was more of a brownie than anything else. The Pecan Pie was served slightly warm, but the crust was not very flaky. Overall, the dessert menu was uninspiring and, while Southern in spirit, did not seem very original. In contrast, the cocktail list was full of delights. In addition to classics, like the Sazerac, Mint Julep and the Hurricane, there are Gravy’s signature creations, such as The Debutante, Garden of Good and Evil, and Marie Laveau, after the famed voodoo priestess. The Pimm's Cup brought me back to the Napoleon House in New Orleans, which is high praise indeed. Gravy’s bar is beautifully put-together and its bartenders were attentive and skilled.

Service otherwise could use some refinement; the weak skills of the front waiters barely counter-balanced by the attention of the back servers (that great runner, a busman that was always on his game). To wit, I would love to tell you that the biscuits and honey butter that are served when you arrive are delicious, but I can’t, since our waiter failed to provide them and we got so busy with our meal that we didn’t press the issue. There was a general air of confusion among the service staff and there didn’t seem to be much managerial direction. I joked to my dinner companion that if I were still in restaurant management, I would poach the runner, busser and the bartender and let them keep the rest!

Gravy has promise and with a little tweaking may prove that the South can rise again, culinarily speaking. In the meantime, I’m calling on Sean Brock and his cohorts to consider bringing a little more Dixie to the Big Apple.

Can't we all just get along?

2012-02-02T10:00:00.002-05:00

My beloved Paula came under attack recently for revealing that she has Type 2 diabetes. One of my other favorite chefs, Tony Bourdain, was the attacker. Specifically he remarked that, "When your signature dish is hamburger in between a doughnut, and you've been cheerfully selling this stuff knowing all along that you've got Type 2 Diabetes... It's in bad taste if nothing else." Tony, why the hate?

It should surprise no one familiar with her cooking that Paula developed health issues. Anyone who has watched even one episode of any of her cooking shows would surmise that a daily diet as rich as the one Paula champions is not exactly be health-conscious. And Tony knows this and needs to get off his high horse. As the chef who got his start at Les Halles, a French bistro with menu items such as foie gras, crème brulee, and enough steak to make any cattle rancher proud, he might want to rethink his umbrage. He is also a chef who champions offal, which is not necessarily good for one's health.

Rich restaurant food is not meant for the everyday and most people understand that. Similarly, Paula's food is clearly not everyday fare if one wants to retain their health and their waistline and if someone isn't wise enough to realize that, well, you can't really blame Paula. The entire Food Network and food media in general (Cooking Channel, magazines such as Bon Appetit, blogs such as Eater) have consistently promoted the rich, fattening, the sweet because these foods are delectible and make for great food porn. A simple salad with vinaigrette is not usually as enticing as a standing rib roast or chocolate souffle.

doesn't this look like more fun

than this?

Now, don't get me wrong. I love Tony. I loved him when he wrote 'Kitchen Confidential' and all my co-workers and friends in the restaurant business were up in arms for his 'telling tales out of school.' I loved him when he wrote a "Cooks Tour" I followed the companion television program when it aired and have been a fan of his show "No Reservations" since it began as well. I have seen him on television and in person being his forthright self, which I have always appreciated, and my love for him is definite and unwavering. Which is why I would remind Tony that most culinary celebrities became famous not because they showed America how to steam vegetables (Jaime Oliver's current promotion of healthy eating not-with-standing). In other words, you, Tony, like virtually every chef I have ever known or followed, live in a glass house. A glass house full of triglycerides and sugars.

Demonizing Paula will not improve the health of the millions of Americans who are already obese or in otherwise ill-health. Paula Deen is certainly not "the most destructive person on the Food Network" as Mr. Bourdain has previously stated. Watch any number of shows on that network and you will see a veritable parade of bad-for-you dishes. She is not the first to promote rich cooking and she won't be the last. She probably should have come clean about her health status sooner, although I am of the camp that believes that sort of information is really nobody's business. (And, let's face it, she is not only a person, but a business and that business has advisors who I'm quite sure agreed that this information was bad for it.)

Which is likely why Paula responded to his remarks with "Get a life." Yes, Paula will likely now have to promote a healthier agenda in her cooking and otherwise make amends for her "destructive" ways. And I fear her recipes may suffer for it. After all what is traditional Southern cooking if not gloriously fattening and naughty. But as for Tony's assertion that Paula's food sucks? He is sorely mistaken there. Whether it will suck going forward is another question entirely. And one for which Tony may be partly to blame.

Conspicuous By Your Absence

2012-01-26T20:00:00.000-05:00

I’ve seen it written that one shouldn’t acknowledge an absence from blogging once she returns to writing said blog. But I don’t really feel comfortable not acknowledging an absence of several months after writing a daily blog last fall. So herewith, my mea culpa.

Suffice to say that a number of factors contributed to my absence, not the least of which is that I have not had a functional kitchen since October! What started as a leak under the sink became ripping out an entire wall of cabinets, jack-hammering the tile underneath, and parting with our beloved antique cast-iron double basin sink. As is the norm with renovations, everything takes way longer than expected. So, I haven’t been doing much cooking. One would think this would give me the time for more DIY projects, but clearly, it hasn’t.

my beloved sink : (

And, quite frankly, I think I was overly-ambitious in my previously daily blogging. That sort of schedule doesn’t leave much time for work or housekeeping or, well, life. So, I have decided that one or two posts a week would be a better option. It will give me time to write. And, it will give you time to miss me.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle...

2011-10-11T12:16:00.002-04:00

Over the last few months I have undertaken the arduous task of cleaning out my mother's home. I should say my home really because it is the house I grew up in from the age of four and, while I moved out some time ago, there are still some very strong attachments. Like any home, it is filled with memories: Christmas mornings, playing dress up, hugs, Sundays reading the comics, pancake breakfasts, phone calls, birthdays, family dinners, Irish music, laughter, joy. It's walls also saw tearful fights, sicknesses, sorrow and anger. And every item in that house reminds me of the past. It is exceedingly hard to let go and necessary to do so.

In the course of going through a life, there are some things you find that seem like junk to you and you are tempted to get rid of them. If, however, you are thinking about doing some craft projects, it pays to look at things in a new light. Among the items in our home that I have decided to keep are a 1968 Rand McNally World Atlas, some Reader's Digest Condensed Books from the '60s and '70s and a beat up clip board. Why in the world would anyone want this stuff, you ask? Well, there are quite a few DIY projects that have been percolating in my brain the last month and now I have the tools to make them a reality!

Here's the stuff...

How gorgeous are the colors of these maps?!

These are for a candle project.

I can't wait to transform this!

How can you buy or sell the sky?

2011-10-10T11:53:00.013-04:00

How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?...We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his father's grave behind, and he does not care. He kidnaps the earth from his children, and he does not care. His father's grave, and his children's birthright are forgotten. He treats his mother, the earth, and his brother, the sky, as things to be bought, plundered, sold like sheep or bright beads. His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert....

You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of our grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children that we have taught our children that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.

This we know; the earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. This we know. All things are connected like the blood which unites one family. All things are connected....All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man... the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.

Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.

Man does not weave this web of life. He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

- Chief Seattle, in response to George Washington

Toffee Brownies

2011-10-08T21:14:00.001-04:00

As I've mentioned in the past and will no doubt repeat in the future: I love me some Paula Deen. I love her unapologetic use of butter and the enormous joy she gets (and gives) from food. So, when I'm feeling the need for comfort, I go to my culinary mama and say, "Mama Paula, what y'all got for me today?" She always answers.

Now, I love playing in the land of Mama Paula's recipes. I love preparing my mise. I love that her recipes come out perfect every time. I love that they allow me to put my personal stamp on them. I love the down-homey goodness that they exude. But sometimes, I need a quick fix. I want easy, no sweat, instant gratification. Thankfully, Paula's knows how to do that too.

Toffee Brownies

Recipe courtesy Paula Deen, 2007

Prep Time:: 8 min
Inactive Prep Time:: --
Cook Time:: 25 min

Level:: Easy

Serves:: 24 large/48 small brownies

Ingredients

1 (17.6-ounce) package brownie mix with walnuts
Vegetable oil cooking spray
3 (6-ounce) candy bars with almonds and toffee chips (recommended: Symphony brand)

Directions

Prepare the brownie mix according to package directions.

Line a 13 by 9-inch cake pan with aluminum foil and spray with vegetable oil cooking spray. Spoon in half of the brownie batter and smooth with a spatula or the back of a spoon. Place the candy bars side by side on top of the batter. Cover with the remaining batter.

Bake according to package directions. Let cool completely, then lift from the pan using the edges of the foil. This makes it easy to cut the brownies into squares.

Home is where I want to be, but I guess I'm already there

2011-10-07T20:24:00.000-04:00

There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.

- Jane Austen

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.

- Maya Angelou

Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

-Oliver Wendell Holmes

Where is home? Home is where the heart can laugh without shyness. Home is where the heart's tears can dry at their own pace.

- Vernon Baker

Walk in Balance

2011-10-06T00:49:00.001-04:00

Since returning from South Dakota, I've been thinking a lot about the history of that land and how much our forebears could have learned from the Native Americans, had they chosen to do so.

Wakan Tanka, Great Mystery, teach me how to trust my heart, my mind, my intuition, my inner knowing, the senses of my body, the blessings of my spirit. Teach me to trust these things so that I may enter my Sacred Space and love beyond my fear, and thus Walk in Balance with the passing of each glorious Sun.

~ Lakota Prayer

There's gold in them thar hills!

2011-10-05T13:42:00.000-04:00

The history books tell us that in the late 1800s the Black Hills of the Dakota Territory were subject to an influx of prospectors looking for gold. This dramatically changed that area forever, as towns sprung up in the wilderness and the native inhabitants were pushed out. Some were brought to great heights while others received only sorrow. All because it was decided that a particular mineral within those hills was highly valuable. Having now seen that land myself, I'd venture to say that what was left behind in those rocks retains it's own particular value.

Among the many pictures I took while in the Black Hills are these close-ups of rock formations. Some have moss growing on them, others do not; some are rough, others are smooth. The colors within them range from green and a soft blue-grey to orange and pink. Looking at them, I was awed at the variation and beauty of the natural world.

Maybe these photos will be the jumping off point for an art project. Maybe I'll pull colors from them for a re-design of one of our rooms. Who knows? I only know that, as far as I'm concerned, there's still gold in the Black Hills.

Somewhere in the Black Mountain Hills

2011-10-04T15:31:00.117-04:00

Mr. B and I just returned from our visit to the Black Hills of South Dakota, a lush mountain range rising from the Great Plains, ripe with sorrowful history, whose rocks gave up the gold that both created the west and destroyed it. A place of incredible majesty, with views that will take your breath away. We travelled miles of forest, tall, dark ponderosa pine as far as the eye can see. We marveled at the colors in the ancient rock. We saw an actual bison! And the stars, oh my god, the stars. The Hayden Planetarium on acid and steroids to the power of 1,000,000. Insanely beautiful place that makes you reconsider life and god and the universe.

Just to the south and east of the Black Hills lie The Badlands, a 244,000 acre national park surrounded by Buffalo Gap National Grasslands to the north and west and the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation to the south. A blend of eroded buttes, steep slopes, slick clay and deep sand, interspersed with mixed-grass prairies, it is the polar opposite of the Black Hills, though just as awe-inspiring.

Called mako sica (bad land) in Lakota and mauvaises terres a traverser (bad lands to cross) by the French trappers, it was as forbidding as the hills were inviting. And no wonder, it's hot and sunny and open and dry with potentially extreme weather and potentially deadly wildlife (though I'm not too scared of the prairie dogs; they're just too darn cute!).

A land of enormous spiritual and historical significance to the Oglala Sioux (Ghost Dance, Wounded Knee, and Leonard Peltier for starters), it is scientifically significant as one of the world's richest fossil beds, with colorful bands of sediment deposits dating back 69 million years. It has been eroding for a half million years and will someday be completely gone. And, it is also one of the most amazingly surreal and beautiful places you are likely to ever see.

My pictures don't even begin to do it justice.

At the entrance to the Badlands, is Cedar Pass Lodge, where Mr. B and I stopped for sustenance before traveling this wild terrain (fear not, dear reader, we were completely safe in our rented Chevy Tahoe). And since we were in South Dakota, we had Indian Tacos. The Indian Taco is essentially fried dough topped with meat and cheese and is therefore not, by any stretch of the imagination, health food. The fried dough, known as fry bread, can be made myriad ways and is, depending upon which Native American tribe makes it. Common at PowWows, it was named the official state bread of South Dakota in 2005.

The Indian Taco at Cedar Pass Lodge is a sort of a cross between a burrito, a taco and a flat un-sugared zeppole. It's homey and filling, the dough being pillowy and soft with a perfectly browned exterior, the fillings familiar and comforting. When you try it (and you ought to), feel free to experiment with your seasoning and toppings. (And don't forget that the fry bread itself makes a nice dessert when drizzled with a little honey!)

Cedar Pass Lodge Indian Tacos

The Badlands, South Dakota

serves 4

Fry Bread:

1/4 cup sugar

2 cups flour

1 tsp salt

3 tsp baking powder
1 cup water (or enough to make a soft dough)

Mix all ingredients together until well-blended and soft. Using a large spoon, drop dough onto floured surface and pat down to about an inch thick. Fry in 1 to 2 inches of oil at 350 until golden brown.

Meat Topping:
1 lb. ground buffalo meat (or beef)
32 oz. refried beans
1-2 packages taco seasoning

Brown meat in a skillet, stir in refried beans and taco seasoning and blend. When heated through, spread meat mixture on top of fry bread. Top with shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes and onions, black olives, and grated cheese (the usual suspects: cheddar, Monterey Jack). Finish with sour cream and salsa.

A Word to Husbands

2011-09-28T10:25:00.001-04:00

I leave tomorrow for a wedding in South Dakota. In honor of the occasion I thought I'd share these words of wisdom from Ogden Nash.

A Word to Husbands

- By Ogden Nash

To keep your marriage brimming

With love in the loving cup,

Whenever you're wrong, admit it;

Whenever you're right, shut up.

Word Art

2011-09-27T10:42:00.000-04:00

When we re-did our dining room, there were a few things in there that we didn't quite know what to do with, that didn't really fit our taste or what we wanted our room to be. One of these items was an old canvas that someone had given Mr. B many moons ago, in exchange for carpentry work, I think. At any rate this Pollock wanna-be, with it's bright primary colors, more red and orange than anything else, unnerved me. It didn't have that chaotic harmony that I find oddly calming in a Pollock. It just didn't fit.

So off it went to the basement to wait out it's fate. Now you know I hate to see anything go to waste. I certainly wouldn't throw it away. I thought, "Well, maybe we'll have garage sale." That is until I did a little Pinterest-ing and realized I could re-use the canvas and didn't need to be particularly artistic to do so! I could jump on the quote-as-art bandwagon!

Such a simple way to create art and so easily personalized! We needed a picture of some sort over our bed and here I wouldn't have to spend a dime. I could use the Pollock-ish canvas and left over house paint! And I could have it say whatever I wanted!

I started by completely placing the canvas on the floor and covering it in 3 coats of white paint with a roller. The irony of laying the canvas flat on the floor to paint in an attempt to cover someone's attempt at Pollock's technique was not lost on me. Now I had a completely white surface, but not a completely smooth one due to the previous paint drippings. I was ok with that. I like the texture. It makes it less sterile.

a fresh start

Now, what did I want this piece of artwork, which would be above my bed, where I sleep, every night, with the love of my life, to say? I didn't want to merely copy my inspiration pieces. I did want to incorporate the idea of love into it, since that seemed appropriate for the boudoir. I thought it also might be nice to give a nod to the fact that we sleep in that room in whatever piece of writing I chose. I really liked the idea of using a poem as in the piece on the right (which showcases part of the e.e. cummings' poem "i carry your heart with me (i carry it in)"). I tried to think of all the love poems I have read throughout my life and whose words would be most apt for a bedroom. Then I thought, Neruda, of course! His love sonnets are some of the most beautiful, most romantic, most evocative poems ever written. But which poem to use?

This, of course, led me to an afternoon spent reading poetry, which to me is never a wasted afternoon. After some reading and some thinking, I settled upon a verse from the following poem:

Sonnet LXXIX - by Pablo Neruda

By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two

together in their sleep will defeat the darkness

like a double drum in the forest, pounding

against the thick wall of wet leaves.

Night travel: black flame of sleep

that snips the threads of the earth's grapes

punctual as a headlong train that would haul

shadows and cold rocks, endlessly.

Because of this, Love, tie me to a purer motion,

to the constancy that beats in your chest

with the wings of a swan underwater,

so that our sleep might answer all the sky's

starry questions with a single key,

with a single door the shadows had closed.

So beautiful! I decided upon the opening line's request, the first eight words. I love the image and it fits my criteria of being a love poem and having something to do with the purpose of a bedroom (get your mind out of the gutter, to sleep of course).

I decided to freehand it partly because I didn't want to deal with stencils and partly because I was impatient to see how it would turn out. I did, however, measure the canvas so I could see how much space I had to work with and I wrote the words in pencil before painting to see the entire phrase.

You can barely see the letters, but I assure you they're there!

So I began. But part way through, I decided that the black and white would look too harsh for our bedroom. You'll note in the inspiration pictures that the one on the left has an antiqued white finish and the cumming's poem is so tightly written that there isn't a lot of negative space. I decided to start over. So on went the white paint again.

Now what? I rummaged through our left-over paints in the basement. First, I decided to paint the background the pale blue that we have on the ceiling in our bedroom to tie in more smoothly with the bedroom palette. Then I used the fabulous grey that we painted our guest room/office for the letters. This color scheme was more soothing for our bedroom than black and white. I used a basic round-end brush to paint the letters and did touch-ups with a regular Purdy brush.

Since I was writing freehand, I tried to keep my hands relaxed and maintain a smooth line to the letters so it would look natural. I then went over each line to fill in any gaps.

coming along nicely

Since my canvas was 40" H x 60" W, I had a little over 13" of height for each line. I marked approximate letter placement in pencil prior to painting. Which is not to say there weren't errors. Please note the "t" in tie; I originally started my "t" too far up on the canvas and tried to make it look like a purposeful flourish. Then since none of the other words with "t" in them had that flourish I added it, only later to determine that it looked ridiculous. You can see my deletion of said flourish here.

bye bye silly flourish!

This is how it looked when I was done:

I know it's a little off-center, but I don't care. I love it anyway. (I'm a little off-center myself.)

And on the wall in our bedroom:

The Archie Bunker Theory

2011-09-26T00:44:00.000-04:00

A house that does not have one worn comfy chair in it is soulless.

- May Sarton

As good as La Grenouille

2011-09-25T20:47:00.002-04:00

So I'm slightly obsessed with the blog Apartment Therapy (www.apartmenttherapy.com). Not just for the fabulous design photos and helpful pointers, but now for the recipes (which are at: www.thekitchn.com)! The other night I made the following for my friend Stella's birthday and by all accounts it was a winner. This recipe is a bit labor intensive but totally worth it! It is perfect for those chilly fall nights that I hope are coming!

A few notes: I used beef broth instead of chicken stock, which gave the finished sauce more body and richness. I browned the chicken thighs longer than 3 minutes per side because a) I like a good bit of browned crusty deliciousness and b) Mr. B is slightly paranoid about salmonella, trichinosis and sundry food-borne illnesses. Finally, I used WAY more than 2 ounces of Gruyere, but I'm a cheese nut, so that's to be expected.

Braised French Onion Chicken with Gruyère

serves 4 to 6

3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 pounds onions, sliced into thin half-moons
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 garlic cloves, sliced
2 small sprigs thyme, leaves only
4-inch sprig rosemary
2 cups beef or chicken broth, divided
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
3 pounds boneless skinless chicken thighs
2 ounces Gruyère cheese, finely grated or shaved (about 1 cup)

Melt the butter in a deep 10-inch sauté pan over medium heat. When the butter has melted completely and foams up, add the onions. They will fill the pan to the top at this point. Stir as you add the onions to coat them in the butter. Sprinkle lightly with salt and black pepper. Cook the onions for about 40 minutes over low or medium heat, stirring occasionally.

When the onions have developed an evenly light beige color throughout, add the garlic, thyme leaves, and whole rosemary sprig, and cook for a few minutes more, stirring frequently. Turn the heat up to high and cook for a further 5 minutes, stirring frequently. You want dark, slightly burnt spots to appear on the onions, and for them to develop a rich mahogany color. When the onions get quite dark, add 1 cup of the beef or chicken broth. Add it slowly, stirring and scraping the pan vigorously to scrape up any burnt or stuck-on bits. When the liquid has been added, bring it back up to a simmer and simmer lightly for 5 minutes, or until it is somewhat reduced.

Take the onions off the heat and pour them into a 3-quart oven-safe dish with a lid. (If you don't have a Dutch oven or another oven-safe dish with a lid, you can use a 9x13-inch baking dish. Just cover it tightly with a double layer of foil.)

Heat the oven to 325°F.

While the onions are cooking, brown the chicken. Heat another 10-inch or cast iron skillet over medium-high heat. Pat the chicken thighs dry and season lightly with kosher salt and black pepper. When the skillet is hot, add the thighs and brown for about 3 minutes on each side, 6 minutes total. When they've developed a golden-brown crust, remove from the pan and set on top of the caramelized onions in the baking dish.

Add the remaining 1 cup broth to the pan. Stir vigorously, scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Whisk in the balsamic vinegar and Dijon mustard. Simmer for about 5 minutes or until reduced by half. Pour this sauce over the chicken and onions, and put the lid on the baking dish. The chicken and onions will look quite saucy; there will be plenty of liquid in the baking dish.

(At this point you can refrigerate the dish for up to 48 hours. Let it sit at room temperature for at least 15 minutes before baking, or else add about 5 minutes to the bake time.)

Bake at 325°F for 30 minutes. Remove the chicken from the oven and turn the heat up to broil. Take the lid off the baking dish, and sprinkle the cheese evenly over the top of the chicken. When the broiler has heated up, return the dish to the oven and broil for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and golden on top.

Faith Durand

April 20, 2011 06:00PM

OMG! Make this now!

2011-09-24T20:12:00.001-04:00

Every child is an artist. The challenge is to remain an artist after you grow up.

- Pablo Picasso

Toe Crusher Three

2011-09-23T13:15:00.000-04:00

Well, I managed to muster the courage to finally finish the ottoman!

First I decided which part of the pattern I wanted to showcase and centered it on the ottoman. I cut and trimmed it so it fit over the top and there was enough on the sides to cover. I pinned it to the batting, which was not very tight but placed it in the right vicinity.

Then I started gluing the fabric underneath using my batting as a guide. I worked very carefully in small sections so I could control the movement of the fabric. Once I had all four sides done, I trimmed the excess.

Now we're getting somewhere!

The corners were considerably more problematic. The legs are very curvy and appear to be permanently affixed to the base, so I needed to find a way to get the fabric to cover all the batting but not hide the design of the legs. First I pined the fabric in place, pulling it taut to get a nice corner. I followed the curve of the leg on the fabric in pencil. I then cut out the excess fabric and folded the corners like I was wrapping a birthday present, securing the fabric with pins.

The last step was decidedly the most difficult. I wanted to be sure that the corners were neat and tightly secured. This took a bit of doing. I secured the fabric on the side of the legs first, leaving the corner last. As I glued each section of fabric, I pushed the rough edges under the base of the leg where it meets the table. I used a flat-head screwdriver to get in there nice and tight. Finally, I hot-glued the ends under.

So here's the finished product (drumroll please):

I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out! It's not perfect, but neither am I! And now I have a place to put my feet up. Hopefully, Mr. B will mind his toes!

Oatmeal Scotchies

2011-09-22T15:36:00.000-04:00

Saturday night I actually sat through an entire football game without having an aneurysm. College football at that. It was apparently a vvvvvveeeeeeerrrrrrrryyyyy important game to certain members of Mr. B's family. The University of Louisville was playing the University of Kentucky. You might think, "How big of a deal can that be? Louisville is in Kentucky, right?" If you thought that, you'd be wrong. It is a big deal; UofL and UK have been rivals for years and their fans are intensely devoted. Since I was sitting in a room full of native Louisvillians, it isn't hard to guess who the favorite was. What, you might wonder, helped me cope with an entire night of football? Why cookies, of course! And not just any cookies, oatmeal scotchies.

I've always been a big fan of the oatmeal cookie, but when I was growing up, they always had raisins. Now don't get me wrong, I love oatmeal-raisin cookies. They remind me of childhood. But another flavor that always brings me back to those innocent days is butterscotch. I have fond memories of eating butterscotch candies from the dish on my Aunt Ronnie's coffee table. So you can imagine my delight when I first learned of this delightful butterscotch variation to the traditional oatmeal cookie.

This recipe makes 4 dozen cookies, so you might want to cut it down if that's too many for you. I don't feel the need; there are never too many scotchies as far as I'm concerned.

Ingredients

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup (2 sticks) butter or margarine, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract or grated peel of 1 orange
3 cups quick or old-fashioned oats
1 2/3 cups (11-oz. pkg.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Butterscotch Flavored Morsels

Directions

PREHEAT oven to 375° F.

COMBINE flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon in small bowl. Beat butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar, eggs and vanilla extract in large mixer bowl. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in oats and morsels. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased baking sheets.

BAKE for 7 to 8 minutes for chewy cookies or 9 to 10 minutes for crisp cookies. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely.

PAN COOKIE VARIATION:
Grease 15 x 10-inch jelly-roll pan. Prepare dough as above. Spread into prepared pan. Bake for 18 to 22 minutes or until light brown. Cool completely in pan on wire rack. Makes 4 dozen bars.

NY, meet KY.

2011-09-21T15:53:00.000-04:00

Legend has it that the first buffalo chicken wing was created at the Anchor Bar Restaurant in Buffalo, NY in 1964. I was informed of this bit of culinary trivia by my brother Sean after he and his family returned from a visit at that landmark establishment. According to one version of the story, the recipe was prompted by the late night arrival of the owner's son and his ravenous friends. Taking part of the chicken she would normally use for stock, Teressa Bellissimo cooked up the now famous recipe.

So leave it to me, a New York girl, to have to go all the way to Kentucky to try to best Buffalo Chicken Dip I have ever tasted! While visiting Mr. B's family this past weekend, I was lucky enough to sample this delish recipe made by his sister-in-law. And I just had to have it! Luckily, she was willing to share, so here it is:

Buffalo Chicken Dip (serves 12, or 2, depending)

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (abt. 2lbs)
1 120z. bottle Frank's Hot Sauce (legend has it this is what Teressa used)
2 80z. packages cream cheese, softened
1 16oz. bottle blue cheese salad dressing (or Ranch)
80z. shredded sharp cheddar or Monterey Jack (or both!)

Pre-heat oven to 350.
In a large pot, boil the chicken until cooked through and shred with two forks.
In a large saucepan over medium heat, combine cream cheese and dressing, stirring until well blended.
In a large bowl, combine chicken and hot sauce, until chicken is well-coated. Spread chicken mixture in a 13 x 9 glass dish. Cover with cream cheese/dressing mixture.
Bake uncovered for 20 minutes. Sprinkle shredded cheese over the top and bake another 10 minutes. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

dietetic, it ain't

Now, you may wonder, aside from the Anchor Bar tie-in, why you should use Frank's and not say, Tabasco. Both are Louisiana style hot sauces, consisting primarily of cayenne, vinegar and salt. Tabasco, however, is aged in white oak barrels for three years, whereas Frank's, Trappey's, and other variations aren't. I can't really speak to all the nuances of hot sauce, not being the connoisseur of it that I am of wine, in which sometimes oaky is good and sometimes not so much. So, should you use only Frank's? The answer is yes, and no, depending on what you like. You gotta eat it after all!

I think this is the perfect party dip, filled with so much creamy, chicken-y, cheese-y goodness, you will have a hard time not eating the entire thing before your guests arrive. Now I just have to have a party! Or I could just make it for me and Mr. B. You don't think that's too gluttonous, do you?

2011-09-20T20:11:00.000-04:00

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.

J. R. R. Tolkien

Cobbled Together

2011-09-19T18:04:00.000-04:00

As far as desserts go, I always think of cobbler as the more virtuous of the pastry options. This is probably foolish on my part, but the fruit allows me to convince myself that I am not being that naughty.

This recipe for Cherry-Apricot Cobbler was originally published in Bon Appetit magazine. This cobbler doesn't require fresh fruit, so it's the perfect summer into fall cobbler recipe. Since we are staring autumn square in the face (the equinox is this week), I thought I should share a recipe that had an autumnal feel. And, since I just got back from Kentucky, I thought it ought to have a little bourbon in it!

Cherry-Apricot Cobbler
Serves 8

Ingredients:
Filling:
3 14.5 oz cans pitted tart cherries in water, drained
1 1/2 cups dried apricots, diced
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice

Topping:
1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1/2 cup sugar
1/3 cup unbleached all purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 cup salt
2 large eggs
1/2 cup whole milk
2 tablespoons bourbon
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350 F. Butter 11x7x2" glass baking dish. Combine cherries, apricot, 3/4 cup sugar, almond extract and allspice in a large bowl until fruit is well-coated. Spread evenly in prepared dish.

Whisk together wheat flour, 1/2 cup sugar, all purpose flour, baking powder and salt. Add in eggs, milk, bourbon, lemon peel and vanilla. Combine well. Spoon mixture over fruit filling.

Bake until topping is golden brown and juices are bubbling thickly at edges, about 50 minutes. Serve warm with ice cream or fresh whipped cream.

Goin' to Kentucky

2011-09-15T12:00:00.000-04:00

I'll be in Kentucky this weekend visiting Mr. B's family. So you won't be hearing from me for a few days. Since I'm sure you'll miss my posts desperately, I thought I'd leave you with some booze for thought.

In case you didn't know, a full 95% of all bourbon made comes from Kentucky. This week, September 13-18, 2011 is the Kentucky Bourbon Festival in Bardstown, Kentucky, advertised as "6 full days of smooth Bourbon, delicious food, and great entertainment." I don't know about you but I wouldn't last 6 full days of smooth Bourbon! I definitely believe in the adage, "brown liquor makes you sicker quicker." Oddly, I, a clear liquor kind of gal, seem to drink bourbon whenever I am in the Bluegrass State. I mean, nothin' beats a mint julep on a hot summer's day at the Downs.

Of course, there is that joke Mr. B tells about making the perfect mint julep: First, pluck the finest mint in the fresh morning dew. Muddle said mint with homemade sugar syrup in a shaker glass. Add crushed ice to the glass and stir. Pour a jigger of bourbon. Dump out the shaker glass and drink the bourbon.

However, the official drink of the 2011 Kentucky Bourbon Festival is not a mint julep or a shot of bourbon. It is the "Bluegrass Sunrise" created by Azur Restaurant and Patio in Lexington, a take on the classic Tequila Sunrise.

Bluegrass Sunrise

1 and 1/4 oz Makers 46

¾ oz Grand Marnier

4 oz orange juice

Splash of grenadine

Shake & Strain

Serve in chilled martini glass

Garnish with orange twist & cherry

Sounds pretty good, don't you think? Of course, you won't be catching Mr. B or any of his relations imbibing such a cocktail. They drink their bourbon the way God intended, sans fruity additions. 'Cause they're no nonsense folks.

Of course, there are a lot of culinary uses for bourbon. So, here's a recipe to make this weekend to celebrate Bourbon Festival whereever you are.

Bourbon-Molasses Chicken Drumsticks Bon Appétit | July 2004

Makes 4 servings

Ingredients:

1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
1 cup minced onion
1 cup ketchup
1/4 cup molasses
2 tablespoons (packed) brown sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
2 teaspoons yellow mustard
3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper, divided
1/4 teaspoon chili powder
1/4 cup bourbon
1 1/2 teaspoons coarse kosher salt
12 chicken drumsticks

Preparation:

Melt butter in large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion; sauté until soft, about 6 minutes. Add next 5 ingredients, 1/4 teaspoon pepper, and chili powder. Reduce heat to medium-low; simmer until sauce thickens, about 15 minutes. Stir in bourbon; cook until heated through, about 3 minutes. Season with salt. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.)

Mix 1 1/2 teaspoons salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper in bowl. Loosen skin on drumsticks. Rub salt and pepper mixture under skin without tearing skin. Cover; let stand at room temperature 30 minutes.

Prepare barbecue (medium heat). Grill drumsticks until skin is crisp and juices run clear, turning to cook all sides, about 25 minutes. Transfer 1/2 cup barbecue sauce to small bowl; reserve. Brush drumsticks with remaining sauce and cook until glaze forms, about 3 minutes longer. Transfer drumsticks to platter and serve with reserved sauce.

See you Monday!

Return of the Toe Crusher

2011-09-14T11:56:00.000-04:00

Well, I finally got around to putting batting on the ottoman. This wasn't as simple a job as it could have been as my staples would not take hold in the base of the table. I now know this is because my table is not actually wood but some sort of space-age polymer that for the life of me refused to accept a staple.

Be that as it may, I wasn't about to give up. So out came the hot glue gun and, with some maneuvering, I managed to affix the quilting batting to the ottoman! Halleluia! Of course, nobody ever told me about the perils of hot glue and ploy batting, that bits of fiber sticks to the gun and then your hand and then your pants.

Of course tucking in the ends was a bit tricky without the use of staples, but I managed to get the batting to stay pretty well secured. I wasn't going to let the Toe Crusher defeat me!

After battling the batting, I didn't have the energy to even think about the fabric. You see, now I know I have to glue it, which makes me a little nervous. Since the fabric is not a solid like the ones on the dining room chairs, it's going to be tricky. When working with a pattern, you always want to make sure it's centered and straight, but with hot glue, there's more room for movement. The end result is anyone's guess.

Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets!

No Greater Love

2011-09-13T03:42:00.000-04:00

There is no love sincerer than the love of food.

- George Bernard Shaw

Picker with a Vision

2011-09-12T10:13:00.000-04:00

As the saying goes, One man's trash is another man's treasure. I subscribe to this but with the caveat that in order for something to be treasure, it generally has to be made a little less trashy. It is currently somewhat fashionable to be a "picker" i.e. one who takes other people's cast-offs and brings them back to market, usually to antique dealers. The tv show American Pickers showcases this lifestyle.

I, however, am a more personal picker, meaning I keep the things I pick for my personal use. I have found perfectly good items on the curb on garbage day, which is quite a common occurrence in NY. One of my finds was this quilt rack, found in perfect condition on the sidewalk in Brooklyn on a walk home from the park with my friend Jeannie and her kids. Her husband thought I was nuts when I picked it up and took it with me, but all it needed was a good cleaning. Now it's used in my bedroom for the extra blankets that I always need.

Another great find was this table:

Now you must understand, this table looked NOTHING like this when I found it outside my apartment. First, it was brown. Second, it was decorated in a very cheesy Cowboys and Indians motif suitable for a little boys room circa 1957. By which I mean: the top was cushioned and upholstered in beige pleather that was attached by twine looped through holes drilled at one inch intervals in the top and the multicolored plastic knob had feathers and beads hanging from it. Ick! I wish I had taken a before picture, but this was prior to my desire to document such things.

I felt the table had potential. It was a small enough that I thought I could use it in my bathroom to hold toilet paper in its cabinet and maybe a candle on top. So I brought it home and proceeded to pull off all the cheesiness.

Then I filled the holes with wood putty, sanded, primed and painted it a glossy white. I figured I was done. I was telling a friend of Mr. B's all about it (she likes to do a little dumpster diving herself) and she said I wasn't a picker, I was a picker with a vision. Hmm, I liked it.

I revisited the table. The painted-over knob looked weird, so I thought maybe I'd silver leaf it. But again, my silver leaf fear caused me to procrastinate this for some time. Well, a year went by and I moved. It was time.

So finally I silver leafed the knob! Then I painted the top a glossy black, leaving the rest of the table glossy white. I really like it now. Of course, I don't know where to put it, since I have a different bathroom now, with plenty of room for the toilet paper.