Nutmeg's Spice of Life

Saved by Turkey Burgers!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 05:36:00 +0000

I was in college while my brother was in high school, so I never really knew how my mother feed Dave and all his friends when they came over. I'm sure spaghetti was involved and on more expansive whims, hamburgers or even a grilled tri-tip.

Until fairly recently, my two sons did not have tremendously huge appetites. They are late bloomers in many respects, both still living at home while they attend the very fine local community college, so their current state of hollow legged-ness has taken me a bit by surprise. They both know how to cook eggs - poached, fried, scrambled - and fry bacon, so breakfast burritos and BLT's are staples in their repertoires. They are also avid grill masters and cook up some pretty good eats for friends on warm afternoons in our back yard. Of course, there are always a few extras that I just happen to have on hand that make eating at Chez MacKenzie all the more appealing to their friends and I'm always happy to oblige.

Yesterday afternoon, I had an excess of ground turkey for some weird reason, so I went to one of my go-to resources, Pepperplate and imported a recipe from one of my other favorite resources, Real Simple. I ran out for the ingredients I didn't have and got to work assembling the burgers.

I should have wiped off my grubby finger prints before taking this photo - sorry!

I made far more than we could eat that evening, so I pulled out my trusty FoodSaver vacuum sealer and proceeded to save a few burgers for future use. If you don't have a FoodSaver, I recommend getting one, especially if you are an avid Costco shopper and like to have plenty of meat, poultry, sausages and the like on hand for hungry 20-somethings who like to grill on a moment's notice.

Back to the turkey burgers...Bill got the grill going and if by Pavlovian response, 3 friends joined my two sons and they were all hungry. Of course, they know there is always an excess of food at our home and they would be welcomed to help take care of that excess. Happy 20-somethings abounded and these turkey burgers flew off the platter!

Turkey Burgers with Zucchini and Carrot

Healthy and hearty, these burgers will surprise even the most turkey-adverse folks you know.

Adapted by Margie MacKenzie from Real Simple

Turkey Burgers
- 1 1/2 to 2 pounds ground turkey
- 1 medium zucchini, grated
- 1 medium carrot, grated
- 1 sweet onion, finely chopped
- 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
- 1 cup dried bread crumbs or panko
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon dried pepper flakes, or more if you like heat
- 2 large eggs
- salt and pepper, generous amounts according to your taste
- Grated Parmesan cheese, to taste (optional)
For sandwiches
- Ciabatta loaf, cut into medium-thick slices
- 2 to 3 Garlic cloves,
- Olive oil

Prepare grill
1. If using charcoal, the coals should be white hot for cooking. I recommend using a grill grate to cook the burgers on either gas or charcoal grills. Alternately, you may broil the burgers.
Burgers
1. Place all the burger ingredients into a large bowl and combine gently but thoroughly. Pat into patties, approximately 4-7, depending on how big you make each one. Place grill grate on the grill to heat up and then place the burgers on the grate. Cook for 3-5 minutes and then turn. Cook another 5-8 minutes, until reaching an internal temperature of 160 degrees with an instant read thermometer. Remove from grill
Toasts
1. Rub both sides of the sliced bread with a garlic clove and brush them with olive oil. Place the slices on the grill and toast. Keep an eye on them, do not let them burn! Remove from the grill. Alternately, the toasts may be done under the broiler, just keep a sharp eye not to let them toast too much on either side.
Burger Assembly
1. Slice the grilled turkey burgers in half. Spread a light coating of mayonnaise on each toasted bread slice, add some Dijon mustard if you are so inclined . Top with a leaf of Boston lettuce and then the turkey burger and enjoy!

Be sure to vacuum sealer and then freeze any burgers you are not going to use right away.

I'm going to camp!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 00:35:00 +0000

Camp Blogaway, that is!

I've taken the full fledged plunge into blogging and now look forward to learning all the tricks of the trade when I join legions of other food bloggers - newbies, like me, and seasoned veterans - who will mentor and motivate one another over Memorial Day weekend in the beautiful San Bernardino Mountains.

Besides honing my blogging skills, I'm hoping to ramp up my food photography as well. I loved the food styling and photography I took with Denise Vivaldo and Christina Peters in November.

My photo from Denise's class. Apple-Blue Cheese Bites
with Honey and Walnuts. I love the drip of honey!
See it, there to the far right?

Since then, I've been attempting to improve my image making skills, with mediocre success. I've got the "beautiful food" thing down, I just haven't quite grasped the F-stop/ISO/white balance/natural light stuff. It's sort of how I feel in my new found yoga practice - I get what the pose is supposed to feel and look like, I just can't quite re-create it very gracefully. Maybe I'm being too hard on myself, in both endeavors. But I do feel better after both cooking and practicing yoga, so I must be doing something right. And no, I am not doing both at the same time, though that would be a real Zen thing to do, eh? Someday...

Denise will be at Camp Blogaway, sharing her immense knowledge of all things culinary, peppering her presentation, I'm sure, with pithy comments about the national food scene. I will relish (no pun) all that she and the other amazing presenters have to share.

Hopefully I can kick Nutmeg's Spice of Life! up a notch or two while still retaining the "voice" I think I've developed here. It's been so gratifying for me to reflect on the cooking influences in my life - my mother, for the most part, though I would never qualify her as a cook, but she really was an influence just the same, plus she has provided a lot of comic relief in my writing. Did I mention the time she tied up a horse on our front lawn when she hosted a Kentucky Derby party? More on that another time...

Please provide me with comments. What am I doing well in this little bit of the blog-sphere? Am I boring you to death with stories about my mother and her non-cooking? Are the recipes I'm publishing working for you? I love writing and cooking and sharing both with you. Please share with me!

And since I love to share...Here's a nifty little appetizer from Athens Foods. I love using the mini phyllo cups for all sorts of finger food.

Enjoy!

ATHENS FOODS

Mediterranean Feta & Olive Cups

INGREDIENTS

- 1/3 cup red bell pepper, small diced
- 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
- 3 tablespoons coarsely chopped kalamata olives
- 3 tablespoons crumbled feta cheese
- 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
- 2 teaspoons lemon juice
- Dash of salt and pepper
- 15 Athens® Mini Phyllo Shells (1 box)

INSTRUCTIONS

1. In a small bowl, combine red peppers, parsley, olives and feta cheese. Drizzle with oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Mix lightly. Chill for 1 hour. Spoon 1 rounded teaspoon of filling into each Fillo Shell. Serve immediately.

We Love Boston!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 03:02:00 +0000

My heart goes out to the athletes who competed today in the Boston Marathon, the people of Boston and Massachusetts and anyone who was touched by today's tragic events. Boston is one of my favorite cities. I love it's "walk-ability" and how history is within such easy reach of even the most casual visitor.

My sons and I had a brief but memorable visit to Boston in late July 2004. The Sox were playing out of town so we didn't get to see the Green Monster, but boy, were we excited when they won the World Series. My husband still wears the faded Sox cap I brought home from that trip.

Margie in the Sox cap that is now a faded relic,
with Alec before our Duck Tour

We walked the Freedom Trail and came across some interesting non-Revolutionary War stuff:

Alec and Ian with Red Auerbach, legendary Celtics coach

And we found a place that warmed the cockles of my heart, the oldest pub in the US!

The Union Oyster House

Pizza Regina in the North End, Legal Seafoods at the Pru, the wharf and Logan were among the best places we dined and the boys and I can still remember, nearly 10 years later how great the food was. The bar was set really high, but then, that's not hard. Boston sets a high bar for just about everything!

Boston is passionate about its cuisine, history, politics, institutes of higher learning and sports. The Boston Marathon of 2013 will be remembered, I hope, not for its tragedy but for the bravery of so many. God bless you all!

I've run the Boston Marathon 6 times before. I think the best aspects of the marathon are the beautiful changes of the scenery along the route and the warmth of the people's support. I feel happier every time I enter this marathon.

Haruki Murakami

Yes, Peas Please!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 16:47:00 +0000

I am now absolutely convinced that it is spring. There was a little false start a few weeks ago , and I think I blogged about it. But now I know for sure. How? The jasmine vine is a green, pink and white cascade along the backyard fence and it's sweet fragrance wisps in through the open kitchen window, subtle enough to remind me to stop whatever it is I'm doing and indulge myself in a few long, thoughtful deep breaths.

Peas and asparagus are beckoning as I shop my favorite farmers' market and that only confirms that spring surely has sprung! I'm happily incorporating them into every menu I can, taking advantage of a fleeting spring pleasure.

Growing up, I had a not so great relationship with peas and asparagus. My mother dealt with vegetables in one singular fashion - she pulled out her trusty can opener. [Heavy sigh...] Martha Washington brand canned asparagus was among her favorites, and to get my sibs and me to actually eat the limp spears, Mom created a game. "Pick up the asparagus, and if you get the tip in your mouth before the spear drops, make a wish and it will come true." Of course, the first buy-in on our part was that we were allowed to eat with our fingers, and the wish granting didn't hurt.

Not Martha Washington's but canned just the same!

But no amount of finger-lickin' dining and potentially granted wishes (I never did get that Barbie tree house) could make up for that fact that Martha Washington canned asparagus tasted like crap, plain and simple. Chloe, the dachshund who loved our lima beans, wouldn't touch a Martha Washington if her life depended on it.

Peas fared somewhat better in our household, thanks to Mom's discovery of the frozen Birdseye brand. Served with a healthy dose of margarine, they were a palatable alternative to any can Mom could open. But it was a particular buffet server at the San Gabriel Country Club who really opened up the world of peas for me.

We were always invited to share Easter dinner with the Ryans, our Great Aunt Clara and Great Uncle George, a childless couple who lived in San Marino,one of the tonier suburbs of Los Angeles. Aunt Clara had been a school teacher in a previous life, and a rather strict one at that, so my brother, sister and I were always on our absolute best behavior when dining with her. She would introduce us, proudly in an austere way, to her friends at the club. We three would smile and say, "How do you do?", shake hands and then salivate until we could get into the buffet line.

Though the culinary offerings of the buffet line were intriguing, the servers were pretty staid and boring, barely making eye contact with the guests as they passed each station.That all changed when a new gentleman was put in charge of the vegetables. "Peeeeeass, with meeeent?!" Peas with mint? It sounded so earthy and hip and herbal to a 12 year old in 1970. His enthusiasm for his offering was contagious, his smile wide and inviting, and I happily allowed him to add a buttery (REAL butter!) bright green helping to my plate. He then smiled as he announced to the next guest in line, "Peeeeeass with meeeent?!"

What have peas and mint done for me lately? When my friend and fellow chef, Kathi Morris Harvey, posted about Pea & Mint Crostini on her Facebook page, I just couldn't resist. The combo of sweet peas and mint, with a hint of Parmesan, just screams "San Gabriel Country Club" and will surely bring a big smile to anyone enjoying it!

Pea and Mint Pesto Crostini with Goat Cheese

adapted from Giada De Laurentis, 2009

- 1 package frozen peas (10-ounce) defrosted
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan
- 1 garlic clove
- 1/4 cup fresh mint leaves, or a little bit more to taste
- juice of one lemon, plus the zest
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, or more for taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, or more to taste
- 1/3 cup olive oil
- 1 baguette, sliced on the diagonal
- Olive oil
- 4-8 ounces goat cheese

INSTRUCTIONS

For the pea pesto
1. Add the peas, Parmesan, garlic, fresh mint, lemon juice and zest, and salt and pepper in a food processor and pulse to combine. With the machine running, slowly add the olive oil until well combined, about 1 to 2 minutes. Transfer to a small bowl and set aside.
For the crostini
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Brush both sides of the bread with olive oil and bake until golden and crisp, about 8 minutes.
2. Spread some goat cheese on each crostini and top with a dollop of the pea and mint pesto. Garnish with a chiffonade of fresh mint, chopped pine nuts, sliced cherry tomoatoes or any colorful combo you'd like.

PS - Remember Chiffon margarine? We actually dined with Mother Nature, Dena Dietrich,who was a member of the San Gabriel Country Club. We NEVER tried to fool her, believe me! It's not nice to fool Mother Nature video

I grew up with margarine. eating buttered peas with
mint at the SGCC was such a treat!

Spring Forward with Brando's Steak!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Sun, 17 Mar 2013 17:34:00 +0000

It's time to spring forward! Oh wait, we did that last weekend. Call me old school, but didn't the time change used to happen at the end of April? We now have darker morns and lighter eves starting on the 2nd Sunday in March? It’s been a bit unseasonably warm in Nor Cal this week, but is it really spring, even with daffodils blooming? Does an hour difference in the time make it spring or just a darker morning? The Vernal Equinox makes it Spring, so it will be Spring come Thursday, March 21^st.

I remember the change to DST in the dead of winter when I was in high school – 1975-ish. My locker was in the covered central corridor at La Habra High School, the Argyle it was called (all the hallways had Scottish names as we were the Highlanders). It was so dark on those cold mornings that opening a locker was impossible without a flashlight. Though somewhat romantic the first day or two, it became a pain in the neck by the end of the week. Almost 40 years later, we Highlanders now know that we were part of a plan, however misguided, to conserve energy. I hadn’t really given this little blip in time change history a thought until I started researching time change history. It’s convoluted – the history of the time change - to be sure, so if you are really curious as to why we go through this bi-annual disruption in our sleep patterns, read all about the time change here. Spring Forward, Fall Back makes it sound so simple. It’s not.

Growing up, I always associated the time change with warmer temps and school spring break and all the neighborhood kids being able to play outside much longer due to the "Be home when the street lights turn on" rule. DST was Heaven's blessing on long games of “hide and seek” or roller skating for blocks on end or hiking through the orange groves that surrounded my neighborhood. As my friends and I got older, DST meant that it wasn't dark when we waited in the high school parking lot for certain male athletes to finish their practices, hoping we could all go out for pizza together, which may lead to some other activities – innocent ones, mind you!

Longer, warmer days also meant laid back family dining. My mother loved spring cooking because of the simplicity involved, which usually meant grilling. To Mom, cooking was a means to an end: feeding her family every evening. She had a simple, limited repertoire and she did it well enough, though our dog Chloe ate more lima beans from our plates than my siblings and I. Mom’s one concession to “fine cooking” was patronizing the local butcher shop, Town and Country Meats. Meat and poultry in the Reilly household always came wrapped in butcher paper, taped with the price sticker. Never did a plastic wrapped flank steak on a piece of Styrofoam cross our threshold! We were not supermarket meat people!

The butcher shop flank streak would be marinated in Worcestershire sauce, salt and pepper, thrown on a hot grill and served with boiled potatoes and those damned frozen lima beans, or canned asparagus (though she was an avowed butcher shop disciple, it took Mom a few years to embrace fresh vegetables). On the night that the grill was hot, Mom had managed to feed her 3 children once again and, since it was Daylight Saving Time, we were now free to continue playing outdoors until the street lights came on.

As homage to my mother and as a way to celebrate the coming warmer weather, I prepared my favorite version of marinated flank steak for my family. From Menlo Park Chef Jess Ziff Cool, I’ve been serving Brando’s Steak and Grilled Vegetables for years. I’d prepared this several times for my mother, and she liked it. Secretly, I think she preferred her simpler rendition. Perhaps it brought back memories of happy children eating their dinner and then playing in the street with other happy children until the street lights turned on.

Brando's Steak and Grilled Vegetables

Jesse Ziff Cool

1/2 cup olive oil

1/2 cup hearty red wine (Zinfandel or Cabernet)

2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

1/4 cup soy sauce

4 garlic cloves -- minced

2 shallots -- minced

2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon pepper
3-4 lbs Flank steak or Chateaubriand

2 large onions -- sliced thick

4 red or yellow peppers -- sliced thick

1 medium eggplant -- sliced thick

1 head fennel, sliced thick

In a large measuring cup or bowl, combine oil, wine, soy, Worcestershire sauce, mustard, garlic, shallots, brown sugar, salt and pepper.

Place steak in a resalable plastic bag and pour half the marinade over the steak. Place vegetables in another plastic bag and pour remaining marinade over them. Place both bags in refrigerator and let marinade for at least 1 hour or overnight.

Prepare the grill. Remove steak from the plastic bag and cook for 15 minutes, turning once, until an instant read thermometer reads 145 degrees. Let stand 15 minutes before slicing.

Place vegetables on a grid grilling pan and cook over the grill for at least 7 minutes, turning frequently, until browned.

The marinade makes an excellent salad dressing, too.

Ugali, Grits and Polenta - It's a Small World!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Mon, 04 Mar 2013 04:31:00 +0000

I’ve mentioned in previous posts how universal many ingredients are, how the simple bean has been incorporated into cuisines around the world; the eggplant, a native to India, is as integral to Thai menus as it is to Middle Eastern tables. The Three Sisters of the New World, and now, International cookery – Squash, Beans and Corn – can be found as easily in Boston as they are in Botswana. It is corn that I wish to spotlight today, or more specifically, polenta.

Simply put, polenta is finely ground corn meal and when cooked, it becomes corn mush. Before corn was introduced to Europe in the 1700’s, polenta, the name for any grain cooked to porridge-like consistency, was made with farro, chickpeas or millet. Corn polenta became a staple in peasant Italian kitchens and until fairly recently, was considered just that, peasant fare. But corn mush has a far larger international influence and commonality.

A female cheetah enjoys her kill

While on a family safari in Tanzania, my husband, sons and I witnessed the circle of life, literally, as we watched a cheetah lick the blood from a fresh gazelle kill off her paws.

We gazed over the vastness of the Serengeti as wildebeests and zebras in the thousands, following instincts millennium old, indulged themselves on the grasses that would sustain them for their lengthy northward migration. At night we heard hyenas cackle and lions roar and the next day, followed the vultures circling over the carcasses of the night’s prey.

Once our drives were done for the day, our group savored amazing fare - a huge variety of curries, roasted meats seasoned with piri-piri at the lodges where we stayed, and while camping on the Serengeti, a Christmas Eve dinner of clove-studded ham, prime rib and Yorkshire pudding, all prepared in braziers over charcoal pits. A better kitchen I have yet to experience.

Camp kitchen on the Serengeti

On our last days of safari, we stayed at Terengire Treetops Lodge, just outside Terengire National Park, a small park by African standards but one with a huge concentration of elephants. It was here, 10 days into our time together, that I got into a conversation about food with two fellow travelers – Frank, one of our guides and a native Tanzanian, and Sue, from North Carolina. I remarked that a thick porridge had been readily available throughout our trip. “Ugali”, Frank replied, “It’s served with every meal. It's corn meal.” “Just like grits”, Sue said, with an inflection in her voice that just rang with Southern pride. It turned out that grits and ugali are one and the same, and that’s when I mentioned creamy polenta, my closest association with corn mush. In the late 80’s when I was in culinary school, polenta was raised from a humble home staple to heights of sophistication by chefs in San Francisco and across the country. It was topped with slow braised short ribs, among other humble cuts of meat, and made corn mush an important component of what is now known as comfort food.

Margie with the chef at Terengire Treetops Lodge

After finding eviscerated remains of a prey animal drying in the equatorial sun or spotting satiated carnivores splayed out, bellies full, along a track, talking about the food trends of North America seemed mundane, but it also brought to mind one thing we all share – we have to eat. We’d seen it dozens of times on the Serengeti; we’d experienced it ourselves when we came in from our drives – when is dinner and where is the Tusker Lager? And now, Sue, Frank and I were sharing our love of corn mush. Polenta, a simple stable, became a common denominator that brought three tired, hungry safari wayfarers together and showed us just how small the world really is.

Cheesy Fried Polenta Triangles

Top with marinara sauce for a side dish or with a meat sauce as an entrée.

Ingredients

4 cups water

1 cup polenta

2 teaspoons salt

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Pepper, to taste

2-3 cups grated melting cheese, such as Parmesan, Gruyere, Fontina or cheddar, or a combination

Olive oil, for frying

Grated Parmesan, for garnish

Directions

Coat the bottom and sides of a 9x13 baking pan with non-stick spray oil.

In a medium saucepan, bring water and salt to a boil. Slowly add the polenta, stirring to combine. Lower heat and continue stirring until the polenta is creamy and pulls from the side of the pan, about 15-20 minutes. Add the butter and pepper and grated cheese and stir until the butter and cheese are melted. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.

Pour the polenta into the prepared baking pan and refrigerate for 1-2 hours.

When the polenta is set, remove from refrigerator and cut into squares and then into triangles. In a wide sauté pan, heat about ½ cup of olive oil over high heat. Add 3-5 polenta triangles and fry until the polenta is golden and crisp. Adjust heat as necessary to avoid burning. Remove cooked triangles to a baking sheet covered with paper towels. Add more oil as needed and repeat with the remaining triangles. Sprinkle with grated Parmesan.

Serve warm as is or topped with sauce.

Be prepared for next year's Super Bowl!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Sat, 23 Feb 2013 19:56:00 +0000

On January 15, 1967, my brother and dad were among the throngs in the LA Coliseum attending Super Bowl I. A neighbor in good old Whittier was a 3M regional executive and because the Packers were playing Kansas City, he received some free tickets and gave them to our family.

"The most boring game I've ever watched" was my father's assessment, predicting that the Super Bowl would be a short lived diversion at the end of the regular season. Dad wasn't the best prognosticator of popular culture trends, now was he?

Super Bowl I pre-dated the now time-honored tradition of commercials featuring croaking frogs slinging beer, singing cowboys slinging beer, battling beer bottles slinging beer and little kids magically starting a Toyota in order to sling Toyotas. I won't even mention half time wardrobe malfunctions, lip-syncing superstars and reunions of '70's rock bands.

I honestly do not mean to be a cynic. I love all the hype that accompanies this annual gridiron battle as much as the next person. You must admit that some things get a little blown out of proportion. I'm just so glad that Beyonce will be singing live tomorrow.

This woman does not know how to cook for the Super Bowl. But I love her backsplash.

In 1967, there was no panic about what to serve while watching the game; there were no radio contests for the best (and most caloric) bean dip, or cooking magazines dedicating entire issues to game day menus (which are also highly caloric). In fact, the term "Super Bowl" had not yet been trademarked so any ole merchant could use it in their advertising without risk of running afoul of the law.

To make your Super Bowl Sunday feasting easy and super, try

these cheesy, lightly spicy, crunchy morsels. I ran into a catering client one day who told me she and her friend had tried to back engineer these delights, but theirs failed by comparison to mine. I told her to ask me next time, I'd happily share the recipe. It isn't, after all, top secret like Coca-Cola's! (Tip: they forgot the pepper jack cheese.)

Cheesy Corn Pudding Bites

Ingredients

8 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
1 cup shredded Pepper Jack cheese
1 large egg
1/2 cup frozen corn kernels
48 scoop - shaped tortilla chip - I use Tostitos Scoops
Chopped chives or cilantro, for sprinkling

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 350°.

In a large bowl, mix the cream cheese, pepper jack cheese, egg and corn.

Fill tortilla cups and bake for 12-15 minutes, until golden and bubbly.

Garnish with cilantro and/or chives. Serve warm from the oven.

I prep at least one baking sheet ahead so I can pop them in the oven when it's time for a refill. These fly off the platter and when I serve them at parties, they are, by far, the most popular appetizer.

This recipe doubles and triples easily, just buy plenty of Tostitos and be aware that there will be broken scoops in each bag. The cheese mixture can be made ahead, but because it contains raw egg, I do not recommend making more the night before you plan to serve.

When Life Gives You Beans, Make Bean Salad

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 00:00:00 +0000

Nothing makes me feel happier and more secure than cleaning out my pantry cupboards and reorganizing them after a Costco run. I know, I know...I'm a cheap date, if you don't count the Costco expenditure. I often find items I've forgotten I'd purchased - 3 jars of instant espresso? Really? And honey? Don't get me started on the vinegar and oil!

I've got to device some recipes that call for instant espresso and honey.
Pot roast, perhaps?

It was the accumulation of black beans that really got to me, though. I had 3 cans from Trader Joe's and had no need for them in coming weeks. I bought an 8-pack of garbanzos because I have hummus on about 4 upcoming catering menus. I guess I just automatically grabbed the black beans. If white cannellinis had been available, I would've probably grabbed them as well. Beans, are after, a great source of fiber, which helps lower cholesterol, and is high in protein, complex carbs and iron.

According to Wikipedia, "Beans are one of the longest-cultivated plants. Broad beans, also called fava beans, in their wild state the size of a small fingernail, were gathered in Afghanistan and the Himalayan foothills.^[2] In a form improved from naturally occurring types, they were grown in Thailand since the early seventh millennium BCE, predating ceramics.^[3] They were deposited with the dead in ancient Egypt. Not until the second millennium BC did cultivated, large-seeded broad beans appear in the Aegean, Iberia and transalpine Europe.^[4] In the Iliad (late-8th century) is a passing mention of beans and chickpeas cast on the threshing floor.^[5]

The oldest-known domesticated beans in the Americas were found in Guitarrero Cave, an archaeological site in Peru, and dated to around the second millennium BCE.^[6]"

Beans are also one of the "Three Sisters" of New World Cooking, completing the trio of maize, or corn, and squash. Read more about squash in this Nutmeg's Spice of Life post.

Though purests may insist on always cooking with dried beans, the ease and quality of canned beans makes them a great pantry staple to always have on hand, to which my pantry can certainly attest.

I've got room for more beans!

So, my overflowing cupboard of legumes beckoned me. It was getting close to lunch. The perfect way to diminish my beans count and use up a few other odds and ends! Here's any easy way to always have a high protein, low fat salad or side dish stored in the fridge.

Next I'll have to figure out how to use the 4 jars of Hoisin sauce and the canned diced jalapenos!

Quick and Easy Bean Salad
by Margie MacKenzie, Nutmeg Kitchens

Black Bean Salad with Avocados & Oregano

I recommend playing with the flavors and additions and the amounts you use. If you like your beans hot, by all means add cayenne and red pepper flakes along with hot sauce. For Mediterranean flair, sub thyme and/or rosemary for the cumin and chili powder and add capers and olives instead of avocado. Use your imagination and plain old black beans will not disappoint!

Basic Ingredients
- 2-3 cans of beans - black, white, garbanzo or a mix of all three would be really good - drained and rinsed
- Vinegar, lemon or lime juice, 1-2 TBS
- olive oil, 1-2 TBS
- Chili powder, to taste. I like ground chipotle. Use both if you like.
- Ground cumin, to taste
-Salt & black pepper, to taste

Additions from the pantry or fridge you may have on hand
- Green Onions, thinly sliced
- 1 can of diced tomatoes, drained
- 1 fresh red pepper, or 1 jarred roasted pepper, diced
- 1 celery stalk, chopped
- 1 red onion, chopped
- 1 avocado, diced
- Fresh cilantro, chopped
- Fresh oregano, chopped
- Tabasco or other hot sauce
- Crumbled feta, fresh chevre or queso fresco

Toss the basic ingredients in a medium bowl, adding them to taste, adjusting them as needed so you have balanced flavors. Add your additions and gently combine. Taste for seasonings and adjust as needed. Let the salad sit for awhile, 30-60 minutes, so all the flavors can blend.

Serve as a salad on a bed of spring mix, as a side dish or as a vegetarian filling for tacos or enchiladas.

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Fri, 16 Nov 2012 18:15:00 +0000

For the Love of Squash

With the golden, muted light and shorter days, a leaf strewn lawn and the early evening scent of woodsmoke in the air, I can say that it is really autumn – my favorite time of year. Comfort, this says to me, especially as we prepare for the ultimate form of comfort eating, Thanksgiving. I'm in no hurry to pull out the Christmas decorations or even think about sending cards. I want to savor the colors, aromas and flavors of Fall and the bounty of produce this season brings. And one of the most versatile and flavorful of that bounty are winter squashes.

Squash is a member of the Three Sisters in New World cooking. Along with corn and beans, this trio fed generations of Western Hemisphere inhabitants long before Europeans landed on the shores of North and South America. The Three Sisters are now a staple in international cuisine and have been incorporated into menus spanning the globe. From Aggie Horticulture at Texas A&M University comes this helpful information:

Our word "squash" comes from the Massachusetts Indian word askutasquash, meaning "eaten raw or uncooked." Although the Indians may have eaten some forms of squash without cooking, today we like our squashes cooked. The late-growing, less symmetrical, odd-shaped, rough or warty kinds, small to medium in size, but with long-keeping qualities and hard rinds, are usually called winter squash. They belong, almost without exception, to the species Cucurbita maxima or C. moschata.

Pumpkins also belong to that species, but large, late, smooth, symmetrical forms of C. maxima and C. moschata are sometimes called "pumpkins" regardless of species. The word "pumpkin" -improperly pronounced "punkin" by most Americans, is derived from the old French term pompion, meaning eaten when "cooked by the sun," or ripe. In modern French, pumpkin is called potiron.

The nutritional benefits of eating squash give it as much endorsements as the creamy roasted texture and sweet, earthy flavor. According to Elise Marie, Yahoo.com contributor

Acorn squash contains potent nutrients in it such as vitamins C, B-12 and A, potassium, folic acid, manganese, fatty acids, fiber and phytonutrients. All these potent nutrients help prevent free radical cells in the body from forming cancers. Some of the cancers acorn squash can help prevent are prostate, lung, colon, brain and breast.

With that information in mind, preparing acorn squash is a easy as it is delicious and nutritional.

Select a squash that is heavy for it's size, with firm skin. I picked out a Danish Green at my local produce market. Cut it in half. This can be tricky - use a large chef's knife and place the squash on an even cutting surface; make an initial cut and slowly bring the knife through the hard outer skin. Once you hit the flesh, it will be easier to cut through the entire gourd, just be careful and go slowly. Clean out the seeds and membranes with a spoon.

Add a pat of butter, some brown sugar and your choice of warm spices - Cinnamon, Allspice, Cloves and/or Nutmeg - and salt to taste.

Place your filled squash on a baking dish, silicon mat optional, but it does make for easy clean up, and bake at 400 degrees for 35-45 minutes, until the flesh has softened, the butter, brown sugar and spices have blended together and slightly caramelized.

Mash the flesh with a fork, add more butter (butter, in this case is good!) and you have an all-in-one side dish. I'm enjoying mine right now!

Butternuts are my absolute favorite varietal. I think anything that includes the word "butter" in its name has just got to be divine! Besides roasting cubed butternut (you can purchase pre-cut packages at Trader Joe's, Costco and a lot of independent and chain grocery stores, saving you the laborious task of doing it yourself) with olive oil, salt and pepper on a baking sheet at 350 degrees for about 25 minutes or so - you can also make a soup that combines to delightful Fall flavors of Butternut Squash, Apples and Parsnips, with Thyme as the herb that brings it all together.

Butternut Squash, Apple & Parsnip Soup with Thyme

4 TB unsalted butter, or 2 TBS butter, 2 TBS olive oil
2 onions, chopped
1/2 cup apple juice or cider, unfiltered preferred
4 cups cubed butternut squash
2 Granny Smith apples, peeled and cubed
2 parsnips, peeled and chopped
1 bunch thyme, leaves separated from the sprigs and the springs tied together with cotton twine.
2 quarts chicken stock, plus some extra if needed
Salt and pepper to taste
Diced apples and a dollop of creme fraiche to garnish.
A shake of Applejack brandy optional

Heat the butter and/or olive in a stock pot over medium. Add the onions and a pinch of salt and pepper. Cook the onions until softened but not browned; adjust heat appropriately to avoid scorching.

Add the apple juice to the onions and reduce until the juice is almost evaporated. Add the cubed butternut squash, chopped apples, chopped parsnips and the tied thyme sprigs. Cook for 1-3 minutes, coating the vegetables in the onion-juice mixture, until slightly browned. Add another pinch of salt and pepper. Add the chicken stock, bring to a boil and then lower to a simmer. Cook the vegetables until they are soft, about 15-20 minutes. Remove the thyme sprigs and add the thyme leaves, reserving a few leaves for garnish, during the last 10 minutes of cooking. Taste for seasonings and add salt and pepper as needed. The vegetables should be very soft.

Remove the soup pot from the stove and let it cool for a few minutes.

With a stick (emulsion) blender directly in the pot, puree the soup, making sure that big chunks of vegetables are thoroughly pureed. The texture can still be a bit thick but most of the vegetables should be broken down. Add more chicken stock if the mixture is too thick. Taste once again for seasoning.

Ladle the soup into individual bowls and garnish with a dollop of creme fraiche, a teaspoon or so of diced apples and the optional sprinkle of Applejack brandy. Serve warm.

This soup is also a unique appetizer, served at room temperature in a shot glass, garnished with some small diced apple. I call them Autumn Sippers.

Take advantage of the wonderful array of winter squash now available - Acorns, Butternut, Spaghetti, Hubbard, Kabocha, Turban, Delicata and more. A savory treat is in store.

Travel the World, Eat Eggplant!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Fri, 28 Sep 2012 16:01:00 +0000

Brinjal, Aubergine, Melongene, Melanzana...a vegetable by any other name would taste the same – smoky, earthy, a hint of bitter mixed with sweet. Eggplant, as we Americans call it, has a global following, with its roots in the Indian subcontinent. It shares a history with others in the nightshade family – tomatoes and potatoes. This versatile vegetable appears in cuisines worldwide, in many guises.

Growing up, I’d never heard of eggplant, though perhaps there may have been some in the produce section of the Food Giant where my mother shopped, but that is doubtful. The name alone wouldn’t have sold this purple orb to the suburban folk of Whittier, CA in the mid-1960’s.

Fast forward to the summer of 1976: I was an exchange student in France. I spent a few weeks with my French family in their suburban Paris apartment before going to the family vacation home in Vendée, on the mid-Atlantic coast. A multitude of family members convened there every July and August. There could be 25 or more of us on a Sunday afternoon, when we’d gathered for a dinner that included grilled fish, oysters, mussels steamed in white wine and garlic, and pâté with crusty baguette. And among them was a new taste sensation for me – Ratatouille!

Ratatouille is a stew of sweet pepper, onion, zucchini and eggplant. I put the emphasis on eggplant in my ratatouille because I love not only the flavor it imparts but the gelatinous texture it adds to this divine mélange. I think fondly of my French family whenever I prepare Ratatouille. It is a late summertime staple in my kitchen when all the ingredients are at their peak. Its flavor only enhances after a day or two, so a large batch can provide plentiful vegetable course options. Add to a quiche, or an omelet, eat right out of a bowl at room temperature, Ratatouille may best be described as “vegetable candy”. And now is the time to make it!

Due to it inclusion in so many international cuisines, eggplant is prepared on just about every continent, and acts as the perfect vessel for local spices and seasonings. Thanks to Bon Apetit magazine for this flavorful Asian riff using Japanese eggplant.

Ginger-Miso Glazed Eggplant

Bon Apetit

Ingredients

6 Japanese eggplants (1 1/2 lb. total), cut on a diagonal into 1-inch-thick slices
1 tablespoon grapeseed or vegetable oil
1/3cup white miso (fermented soybean paste)*
4 teaspoonsfinely grated peeled ginger
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1 teaspoon reduced-sodium soy sauce
1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar
1/4teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3teaspoons sesame seeds, divided
3tablespoons thinly sliced scallions, divided

* Also known as shiro miso, white miso can be found in the refrigerated Asian foods section of better supermarkets and at natural foods stores and Japanese markets.

Preparation

Preheat oven to 425°. Brush both sides of eggplant slices with oil and place on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Roast eggplant, flipping once, until very tender, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven. Arrange a rack in upper third of oven and heat to broil.
Meanwhile, whisk white miso and next 5 ingredients with 1 Tbsp. water in a small bowl. Stir in 1 1/2 tsp. sesame seeds and 2 Tbsp. scallions. Smear top of eggplant slices with miso sauce. Broil until golden and charred in places, 4–5 minutes. Remove from oven and sprinkle with remaining 1 1/2 tsp. sesame seeds and 1 Tbsp. scallions.

Have fun exploring the world via eggplant, or aubergine, or brinjal. Whatever you call it, how ever you prepare it - it's delicious!

Tomato Candy!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Fri, 03 Aug 2012 01:32:00 +0000

Pomodoraccio - it doesn't come trippingly off the tongue, but for every syllable, there's a wallop of flavor! I was first introduced to Pomodoraccio at Sigona's Market in Redwood City. Available in the olive bar, these semi-dried tomatoes have made a huge difference in bumping up the flavors in many of my salads and appetizers. I call them Tomato Candy!

Not nearly as tooth-some and tart as regular sun-dried tomatoes, and available year round which makes for a nice substitute in the non-tomato months, Pomodoraccio has a sweet, meaty flavor component that brightens any dish to which it is added. I first incorporated them into a simple salad of arugula, mozzarella marinated in Sigona's Summer Peach White Balsamic Vinegar, with Parmesan shavings. No fuss - the marinade from both the fruit and the cheese was all the dressing needed.

Then came a brainstorm - how to transcend the traditional Caprese Salad as an innovative and swoon-worthy appetizer. I love this presentation - elegant and simple - but more so, I love the surprise I see in guests' eyes when they are hit with the amazing flavor of these rather innocuous strips of tomato, the creaminess of the mozzarella and the mixture of marinades. The basil on top adds color and earthy, herbal flavor. This is not your Italian grandmother's Caprese Salad!

Then...I took this concept to another, less formal level: The Pomodoraccio Skewer.

Humm...I'm seeing a savory tomato cheesecake in my future. Ya never know!

The Little Nut That Changed The World

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 22:21:00 +0000

Happy five year anniversary to Nutmeg Kitchens! It’s hard to believe that in January 2007, I began this little enterprise with no premonition of where it would lead me or if I’d even be in business for five months, let alone five years. I’ve tackled some challenges I never expected, like dealing with the bureaucracy of starting a business, developing the confidence to market myself and work with QuickBooks, which I truly do not like doing. I love my work and I am most grateful for my wonderful clients. Thank you for your patronage, referrals and friendship!

Over the years, I’ve been asked how I came about naming my business Nutmeg Kitchens. It’s a two-fold answer.

When the naming process for my new enterprise began, I was encouraged by wonderful mentors at the now-defunct Personal Chef Network to incorporate my own name into that of my business and add a culinary twist in possible. Margaret’s Personal Chef Service was too unimaginative and it reminded me of what my mother called me when she was angry. Scratch that one. Portola Portable Pantry was universally shot down as too alliterative and too closely associated with those charming blue capsules often seen at construction sites.

After brainstorming for several hours with my husband, we landed on Nutmeg, a nickname I’d been given years ago when I went by Meg as a travel agent. I thought the colleague who christened me thought I was a pretty spicy thing, but she said, “No, you’re just a nut!” But the nickname worked perfectly to invoke the images I wanted for my new moniker; warmth, comfort, fragrance, something familiar with a bit of the exotic. Nutmeg Kitchens it was! I love my corporate identity too; the little bubbling pot conveys the whimsy and conviviality I want my clients to enjoy and remember after a Nutmeg event.

But really, what is Nutmeg? Well, in the 1600’s it was to European spice merchants what the Facebook IPO is to investment bankers today - a windfall.

Myrisitica fragrans is the evergreen tree which produces the fruit from which the nutmeg seed is derived. What made it so valuable, and elusive, is that, up until the late 1700’s, nutmeg was grown only on the tiny specks of volcanic rock that are the Banda Islands, in the Indonesian archipelago not far from New Guinea. Prized for centuries when first brought to Europe via the Spice Road, nutmeg's source was never revealed by Arab traders who first brought it to Venice. The search for nutmeg began in earnest once Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch and English navigators mastered the high seas following Vasco de Gama’s first visit to the Moluccas,or what would later be known as the Spice Islands, in 1512. Ruthlessness, cunning, deceit, disease, murder, death, years at sea and lots of money were all a part of a merchant fleet's sail around Cape Horn and into the treacherous waters of the Indian Ocean, and then the Ceram and the Celebes seas to the Banda Islands.

Giles Milton, in his lively and well-researched book Nathaniel’s Nutmeg, or the True and Incredible Adventures of the Spice Trader Who Changed the Course of History details of the spice race with vivid stories of shipwrecks, kidnappings by Mogul warlords, vicious sea battles between competing national fleets, bribery of locals, and most of all, the importance of nutmeg’s trade to the financial stability of the countries involved.

The book’s opening paragraph captures the essence of the story, conveying the magic that a small brown nut brought to those seeking it.

“The island can be smelled before it can be seen. From more than ten miles out to sea, a fragrance hangs in the air…

“So it was on 23 December 1616. The Swan’s captain, Nathaniel Courthope needed no compass nor astrolabe to know they had arrived…He had at last reached Run, one of the smallest and richest of all the islands in the East Indies.”

Captain Courthope defended Run against the claims of the the Dutch East India Company with the help of the island's inhabitants who accepted the English King as their sovereign, creating the first English overseas colony. The Dutch laid siege to Run and after four years, with Nathaniel Courthope dead, the Brits and the locals loyal to them departed the island, beleaguered and in desperate straits.

The Treaty of Breda ended the 1665-67 second Anglo-Dutch war and gave Manhattan and all North American Dutch holdings to the English. Run, though technically still a British possession until this point, was officially ceded to the Dutch East Indies Company, giving the Netherlands a complete monopoly on the nutmeg trade.

Nutmeg fruit and nut with outer netting of mace,
another spice compliments of Myrisitica fragrans

According to Peggy Trowbridge Filippone, in the blog piece, Nutmeg and Mace History, “The Dutch waged a bloody war, including the massacre and enslavement of the inhabitants of the island of Banda, just to control nutmeg production in the East Indies. In 1760, the price of nutmeg in London was 85 to 90 shillings per pound, a price kept artificially high by the Dutch voluntarily burning full warehouses of nutmegs in Amsterdam. The Dutch held control of the Spice Islands until World War II. “

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, the Dutch should’ve been quite pleased when French seaman Peter Poirve (how's that for a spicy name?) pilfered some nutmeg seeds from the Bandas and planted them in Mauritius, ending Holland’s nutmeg monopoly. Likewise, the Brits smuggled seeds to their colonies in Southeast Asia and the West Indies. The island of Grenada, where nutmeg has flourished, is called The Nutmeg Island, and its flag represents the tree that has brought it fame and fortune.

Nutmeg is not a seasoning one uses in large quantity. A mere 2 teaspoons can produce a high accompanied by hallucinations, similar to other nefarious substances. There’s a reason a little grate will do you! But that little grating will provide any dish with a singular sweet-piney flavor, distinctive yet subtle.

Associated most often with sweets such as custards and cookies, or as an ingredient in mulling spices, nutmeg can also be used in savory cooking, such as béchamel sauce, roasted squash and creamed spinach. One of my favorite preparations is even simpler, Patricia Wells' Just Spinach!

You’ll need:

A large, deep skillet with a lid

2 pounds spinach leaves, stemmed, washed and spun, though I like the pre-washed greens

Kosher Salt

Freshly grated nutmeg

Place the spinach in the skillet with several tablespoons of water. Cover and cook over high heat until the spinach is completely wilted, about 3-4 minutes. Drain thoroughly in a colander, toss with the sea salt and the nutmeg. Serve warm.

I hope the next time you dust your mocha latte with a bit of Myrisitica, you’ll reflect on the colorful history of the little nut that changed the world, and also think of Nutmeg Kitchens and five years of bringing spice to your kitchen!

Having a Crabby Day - Wish You Were Here!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Thu, 24 Feb 2011 19:44:00 +0000

Half Moon Bay State Beach, February 6, 2011. 70 degrees & loving it!

While most of America was preparing for the annual bacchanalia known as Super Bowl Sunday on February 6, Bill and I took advantage of the unseasonably clear, warm weather and drove over the hill to explore Coastside, one of our favorite destinations. We had no real plan in mind except that we wanted to walk along the ocean and eat some good food. We got to the intersection of Highways 92 and 1 in Half Moon Bay and did a figurative coin toss – which direction shall we turn? Remembering that a cable installer, of all people, had told me about a great local spot in the Pillar Point Marina , we opted to turn north. We’d grab a bite to eat and then set out for a coastal perambulation from the marina.

The beauty of the day did not disappoint and we were among many non-football fans enjoying the 70 degree weather. Though the waves were pretty small and blown out, there were several dozen wetsuit-clad figures bobbing in the water along Half Moon Bay State Beach, and even more wishful surfers contemplating conditions, or rather the lack there of, from the road. Mavericks had been up a couple weeks ago, but any hope today of a killer wave had gone with tides. One rider did get a less than big wave experience, though.

The Ketch Joanne

There was plenty more action in the marina and by the crowd assembled at The Ketch Joanne & Harbor Bar we’d hit the right place to enjoy some local seafood. Bill’s Manhattan Clam Chowder was a flavorful alternative to the excellent New England version we savor at the The Old Port Lobster Shack in Redwood City, our fav inland stop for really authentic lobster rolls, fish ‘n chips, and chowda (the Portola Valley location is opening soon!). My crab cioppino had the perfect balance of heat, tomato, celery and essence of the sea, but boy, did I have to work it! Crab is not easy to eat! And for my taste buds, the deliciously sweet crab meat got lost in the flavorful spicy broth. As good as it was, in the future, I’ll pass on cioppino and go for a steamed crab, straight up with a butter chaser!

The Cricket, owned by Bill & Penny Webb

Leaving the Ketch, the Johnson Pier beckoned and we chose it over the coastal trail. The crab fleet was in port after their weekly trawling, and though it was late in the day, a few captains were still selling lives crabs from their decks. One boat caught our eye, wonder why?

We started down the companionway to check out The Cricket & Bill's Crabby Crab, as Admiral Penny, the captain’s wife, was coming up. “Do you have any crabs left?” we asked meekly. One simple question and we were delighted with Penny’s tale of all things crabby. No, they were sold out but were holding five good ones for a return customer who had called in their order earlier in the week. We learned that we needed to do this in the future to ensure any of The Cricket’s catch. “So, who should we get our crab from today, if there’s any left?” This opened a Pandora’s Box.

The Pillar Point Fleet

Though they are all basically competitors, crab fishermen are a tight knot clan filled with respect for one another, their craft and their product. But, according to Penny, they do not suffer those who flaunt the rules of seamanship (i.e., pinching others’ crab pots), cheat customers (i.e., selling sub par product at high prices) and do not follow the unwritten etiquette of the waters (i.e., rogues). And don’t get her started on those huge, out of state commercial vessels that come to Northern California’s Dungeness-rich waters! Alaska, Washington and Oregon all have state-mandated limits on the crab poundage they can bring in every season. California does not. Once those northern fisheries have been crabbed, ginormous boats (we’re talking 90+ footers) make their way south and begin dropping upwards to 1000 crab pots per boat, week over week. They take the lion’s share of crabs, load it all in a multitude of refrigerated 18-wheelers that fill the loading area at Johnson Pier and take their catch back to points north, not even selling any of it in California.

Captain Bill with a friend

The 2010 crab catch was estimated to be among the best in recent memory but our own local crab men were out-fished by the larger out-of-state commercial boats. I have only Penny and Bill’s word on all this, but the lobbying on behalf of San Mateo County and Northern California fisherman in Sacramento during the previous administration fell on deaf ears. According to Penny, our previous governor was photographed with an official from those very out-of-state fishing companies who plunder Nor Cal waters during crab season. The Pillar Point fishermen are looking to the new administration to bring some realistic (and profitable) sense to the management of the fisheries that provide them their livelihood. They are hopeful that things will change. Enough politics, let’s get back to the day on Johnson Pier…

Margie with Capt Bill & Admiral Penny

Bill overseeing his crab selection

After our lively conversation with Captain Bill and Admiral Penny of The Cricket (with Cricket, the Jack Russell Terrier, the namesake dog, in tow), Bill the Negotiator chose to peruse the wares at the several other boats that still had live creatures for sale. I chose to take photos of the marina. What Bill came away with, five large crabs for $30, and what I captured on a flash card, encapsulate a day of amazing beauty, new-found knowledge and just plain culinary delight.

The Princeton Seafood Company cleaned, steamed and cracked our pier-purchased crabs for $2.00 per crab, ready to take home. A better $40 was never spent!

Go Steelers! Oops, Go Green Bay!

While we waited for our dockside treasure to be prepped, we moseyed back into the Harbor Bar. The Super Bowl was in full swing and the bar, though not overcrowded, contained a lively group of fans for both competing teams. Our original intention was to ignore the Big Game all together, but we found ourselves drawn to the camaraderie that the day created and the crowd celebrating in the bar. We left at halftime, feeling we had done our duty as true Americans by watching at least a portion of Super Bowl XLV.

Once home, I began shelling our haul. I know now why cooked and shelled crab meat sells for $24 per pound! It is labor intensive, but the adventure we had acquiring it was worth the hour long process. The fresh crab melts we had for dinner were the topper to an extraordinary day!

Margie with crab pots on a beautiful Nor Cal day!

Make your own crab melts.
Take freshly cleaned, steamed and cracked crab and remove the sweet flesh from the shells. A labor of love, but well worth it!

Weigh the fruits of your labor. A pound shoudld be sufficient.

Mix in your favorite flavorings - mayo, lemon juice, diced red bell peppers - or not.

A virgin melt is just fine.

Top with sharp cheddar cheese - Cabot is a good choice. Avocados are a delicious addition!

Broil until the cheese is melted and golden brown. Then...

CHOW DOWN!

(Guess who ate the melt with avocado?)

Visit Pillar Point Marina and Capt Bill's Crabby Crabs. Enjoy a bit of local aquaculture, some great food and a few fish stories, too! Yes, that's a beached fishing boat tilting in the background!

Thanks to Bill & Penny Webb, The Ketch Joanne & Harbor Bar, Princeton Seafood Company and the weather gods for such a perfect day!

All photos taken by Margie or Bill MacKenzie

Got Arvocardos?

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Sat, 05 Feb 2011 00:58:00 +0000

My Sous-Sherpa & me!

After nearly 24 years of marriage, the dietary predilections of my spouse continue to amaze me. Don’t get me wrong – Bill has an excellent palate, loves good food (especially mine) and has become an active participant in my business, not only acting as Sous-Sherpa (his self-description) but actually helping me in the kitchen, slicing, dicing and saucing. The cheeky guy even wants his own chef’s coat!

For the most part, Bill and I are on the same culinary wavelength, but there is one particular foodstuff, which I consider a masterpiece of Mother Nature, where Bill’s food frequency is way out of whack. The man will simply not eat avocados; not only that, he can’t pronounce the name correctly, inserting an “r” or two in between the “a’s” and “o’s”. Being a California girl who grew up in the heart of avocado country, and even in the same town where the Haas variety originated, I’ve taken Bill’s ‘cado aversion personally. But then I remind myself that he’s a New Yawker, born and raised, who grew up with limited access to any fruit or vegetable remotely exotic and with a mother whose Catholic Friday night fish dinners can only be described as shoe leather. It’s a miracle he’s as discerning as he is!

So…can this marriage be saved? Of course! We have agreed to disagree on the virtues of Persea Americana. Like any evangelist, I hope to one day convert my loving husband into an avocado aficionado. With all the nutritional benefits, variety of uses and simple ease of eating this divine, if somewhat ugly, fruit, it shouldn’t be too hard to win him over, despite two decades of battle, right?

Avocados are an ancient fruit that originated in Mexico, dating back millennium before being domestically cultivated. Introduced to California by Santa Barbara resident J.B. Ord in 1871, the fruit's virtues were recognized by growers and commercial production of avocados began in earnest by the 1900's.

As I wrote earlier, I grew up in Avocado Central – Whittier, California. Now known as the hometown of a certain former president, Whittier was in the 1920’s a small agricultural center 30 miles southeast of Los Angeles. According to the California Avocado Commission, “A.R. Rideout of Whittier, an innovator and pioneer in avocados, was always searching for new varieties and tended to plant whatever seeds he could find, often along streets or in neighbors' yards.

In the late 1920s, Mr. Rudolph Hass, a postman, purchased the seedling tree from Rideout, and planted it in his new orchard. He planned to graft another variety on it, but when repeated grafts didn't take he planned to cut the tree down. Fortunately for avocado lovers everywhere, Hass's children talked him out of it. They preferred the taste of the tree's fruit to that of the Fuerte, the predominant variety and industry standard in those days.”

Mr. Hass’s tree, planted not far from Whittier in La Habra Heights, was the mother of all the Hass trees that now populate the orchards of over 6,000 growers in California. Though lovingly tended for 76 years, she succumbed to root rot in 2002. Growing up, a block from Avocado Crest Drive, no less, I had the good fortune of being able to ramble through the Heights with my siblings and friends, plucking avocados from the bountiful trees of benevolent neighbors. We brought home future bowls of guacamole, or a chunky additive to a morning’s omelet or a simply savored pitted half served with a squeeze of lemon and a sprinkle of salt - my mother’s favorite lunchtime treat! Knowing that our treasure would have to spend several days ripening in a paper bag - avocados do not ripen on the tree - only made our haul all the more special. We waited in anticipation for the day when the pebbly, dark green giant teardrops would be ready to eat!

From Aztec times, the alligator pear, as it was once known, has been a staple crop in tropic and sub-tropic climes; in the US, 43% of all households purchase the fruit (why didn’t Bill eat them in NYC, for cryin’ out loud?!) . The Golden State now produces 90% of the nation’s crop, with San Diego County accounting for a whopping 60% (there goes some of good ole La Habra Heights’ claim to fame!). With Cinco de Mayo now a truly American celebration, avocado consumption rises precipitously in early May; Early February is a close second with that certain major sporting event coming up very soon.

Though guacamole is ubiquitous this time of year – it’s Super Bowl time after all and right in the middle of the avocado season - there are many unique and flavorful ways to incorporate the luscious, buttery, green-yellow flesh of Persea Americana into every day dining enjoyment. With the following recipes, I’m hoping to win an Avocado Convert or two, perhaps even my dear husband. If not, all the more for me to eat!

Pineapple Chipotle Mango Guacamole
2010 California Avocado Best Guacamole Contest Winner –
Most Original/ Creative Category, Trisha Krus

Photo compliments of the
California Avocado Commission

Ingredients
4 ripe California avocados, seeded peeled and diced

½ medium sweet onion, minced

2 chipotle peppers in Adobo sauce, finely minced

½ teas salt

2 TBS chopped cilantro

½ cup crushed pineapple, drained, juice reserved

2 TBS reserved pineapple juice

1 medium ripe mango, seed peeled and diced

Method
Place diced avocado in a medium bowl and coarsely mash.

Add onion along with chipotle peppers, salt, cilantro and pineapple juice.

Gently mix in mango and pineapple.
Serve with tortilla chips or use as a topping on grilled fish.

Chinese Black Rice, Orange and Avocado Salad
From Whole Grains Every Day by Lorna Sass, James Beard award winner

Lorna is one of my favorite cookbook authors. I've served this at several catered events to rave reviews. The black rice and the avocado lend an exotic taste and texture to a simple yet captivating salad.

Photo by Jen, from Recipes.com

Forbidden Rice

Ingredients
3 cups Chinese black rice - follow package instructions.

Available in specialty stores as Forbidden Black Rice by Lotus Foods

3 cups diced peeled oranges

3/8 cup freshly squeezed orange juice

3/8 cup unsalted pumpkin seeds, toasted. I substituted pine nuts with success, though almost any nut would be fine. Or leave them out completely, but you'll miss some extra crunch.

2 ¼ teaspoons grated orange zest

3/8 teaspoon salt, or to taste

1/8 teaspoon ground chipotle

1 ½ ripe Hass avocado, peeled, pitted and diced

Peeled orange slices for garnish

Method
In a bowl, combine the cooked black rice, oranges, orange juice, pumpkin seeds, orange zest, salt and chipotle. Gently mix in the avocado. Add more salt if needed.
For individual plating, place a lettuce cup on each plate and spoon the salad onto the lettuce. For a larger service, line a serving platter with lettuce leaves - butter of red/green leaf - and spoon salad over the leaves. Garnish with orange segments.
Wehani or wild rice can also be used in this recipe.

I don't think our marriage is threatened by avocado aversion. Bill just doesn't know what he's missing so, all the more for me!
Thanks to The California Avocado Commission where you can explore more avocado recipes and James Beard Award Winner Lorna Sass

Meyer Lemons, a Winter Treat!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 18:46:00 +0000

I had lemon tree envy almost immediately after moving to our Portola Valley home 18 years ago. My neighbors to the front – we’re on a flag lot – had the most gorgeous Meyer lemon tree in their backyard, which I could gaze upon from our driveway. We had left behind a Meyer tree at our home in Menlo Park and I worried that I would not find the soft-skinned, subtly floral scented citrus I had relied upon to add zing and zest to my winter cooking once we moved. Imagine my pleasure, looking over that driveway fence!

Meyers in 1993 were not a staple in the local markets as they are now plus they do not take well to long distance transport due to that lovely thin skin that is as edible as the delicious flesh and juice. This fragility prevented a huge national market in Meyers but also created a cult following among savvy chefs and home cooks in California, Texas and Florida who did have easy access to this tasty mandarin orange-lemon hybrid.

Over 50 year old and
still producing excellent fruit!

The furtive glimpses I had of my neighbor’s tree and, upon introducing myself for the first time, the request to snatch a few of her lemons, has resulted in a longstanding friendship and lots of satisfying cooking and baking. My neighbor Kathie, like many Americans, did not realize the culinary gem she had hanging on her heavily laden tree. She thought the smooth-skinned,egg-shaped fruit was some sort of odd orange, and frankly, didn’t know what to make of it.

If it were not for a man named Meyer, the fruit we now call Meyer Lemon would be little more than a decorative plant in China. According to Julie O’Hara in her NPR piece, Meyer Lemons: More Thank a Pretty Face, “in the early 1900’s, the US sent Frank N. Meyer, an agricultural explorer (yes, that was his actual job title), on several trips to Asia with the mission of collecting new plant species.” Frank Meyer collected over 2500 species and sent them back to the United States. His namesake from that bounty of specimens, the Meyer Lemon, has outlived him by nearly a century. He died in Shanghai in 1918, never knowing the contribution he made to home cookery and haute cuisine alike.

Meyer Lemon blossoms,
adding more to this season's crop!

Like many latter 20th century cooking trends, Martha Stewart and Alice Waters were at the forefront of the Meyer lemon-mania that swept the nation in the late ‘80’s and early ‘90’s. Today, 20 years or so after Meyers entered the culinary lexicon and became a venerated kitchen staple, I am the envy of my chef friends in other parts of the country where Meyers are as rare and treasured as Faberge eggs. I can pluck as many of the golden “eggs” off Kathie’s tree as I desire on a given winter day, and the variety of uses I have for this magical winter treat is only as limited as my culinary imagination.

Cooking with Meyers

Meyers are a sweeter, less astringent alternative to the Eureka and Lisbon varietals commonly found in the grocery stores, and they add a subtle flavor and perfume to baked goods. It is in savory dishes that I really love including Meyers, and no cuisine incorporates Meyers better than that of North Africa. Ghillie Basan’s Flavors of Morocco is my latest go-to resource for exotic yet comforting meals.

Preserved lemons are added to many Moroccan dishes as both a major ingredient and garnish. It is in tagines, the ubiquitous North African stew, where preserved lemons really shine. A simple preparation, preserved lemons do require a bit of patience as they need to steep in a salt and juice mixture for about a month, but once they’re ready, you have a distinctive and out of the ordinary component in your cooking repertoire.

Preserved Lemons
10 organic Meyer Lemons
1 cup Kosher or coarse crystal Sea Salt
Freshly squeezed juice from 6-10 Meyer Lemons
1 large well washed and sanitized Mason or other jar with a tight lid

Slice the lemons in quarters lengthwise, but keep them attached at the stem end. Cover the flesh of each lemon with salt and place in the Mason jar, fitting them in tightly. Add any leftover salt and seal the jar. Store in a cool place for 4 days, turning the jar around once or twice.
Add the freshly squeezed juice to the jar, pushing the lemons down in the jar so they are very well packed, covering the lemons completely with juice. Seal the jar again and store in the cool space for 1 month, gently shaking the jar occasionally. Rinse before using the lemons.
Keep refrigerated after opening.

Chicken Tagine with Preserved Lemons, Green Olives and Thyme
By Ghillie Basan, Flavors of Morocco, 2008

Green olives and preserved lemons are a classic Moroccan flavor combination. Serve with Lemon Couscous, another North African staple, or steamed carrots tossed with spices and mint. The conical-shaped tagine is the traditional cooking vessel, available at cookware shops, but a heavy enamel pot, such as Le Creuset, will work just as well.

Serves 4-6
1 organic whole chicken or 8 chicken pieces, about 3 ½ pounds
1 TBS olive oil with a pat of butter
½ cup cracked green olives
2 preserved lemons, rinsed and cut into strips
1-2 tsp dried thyme or oregano, or a combination of both if desired
A small bunch of flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
For the marinade1 onion, grated
3 cloves garlic, crushed
2-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated
A small bunch of cilantro, finely chopped
A pinch of saffron threads
Freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon, preferably Meyer
3-4 TBS olive oil
Kosher or Sea Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

In a bowl mix together all the ingredients for the marinade and rub it all over the inside and outside of the whole chicken, or over all the pieces if using. Cover and refrigerate for 1-2 hours.
Heat the olive oil and butter in the tagine or pot. Add the chicken and brown on all sides. Pour in any leftover marinade and add enough water to come halfway up the side of the chicken. Bring the water to a boil, reduce the heat and cover. Simmer for about 50 minutes, turning the chicken from time to time.
Add the preserved lemons, olives and half the thyme. Cover again and simmer for another 20 minutes. Check the seasoning and add some salt and pepper if necessary. Sprinkle the rest of the thyme and the parsley over the top. Serve from the tagine or pot along with fresh crusty bread and Lemon Couscous.

Lemon Couscous
Serves 4
3 cups couscous
½ tsp Kosher or sea salt
2 ½ cups warm water
1-2 TBS olive oil
1 preserved lemon, rinsed and finely chopped
1 TBS butter
Place dry couscous in an oven proof baking dish. Stir the salt into the water and add to the couscous. Leave it to absorb the water for about 10 minutes. Using your fingers, rub the oil into the couscous to break up any lumps and aerate it. Toss in the preserved lemons and scatter with the butter over the surface and cover with foil or wet parchment paper. Place in a 400 degree oven for about 15 minutes, until the couscous is heated through. Serve warm with Chicken Tagine.

Enjoy!

Bring on the Figs!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Mon, 11 Oct 2010 00:30:00 +0000

Summer turning into Fall is Fig Season on my calendar. As part of a composed salad, as an appetizer paired with Gorgonzola and walnuts on a crispy crostini or blended with sugar and port and simmered into sublime jamminess, figs are an autumn treat. And unfortunately, one that sometimes gets a bad rap. How many of us growing up were given those “healthy” cookies, Nabisco's Fig Newtons, by guilty moms, forever making figs a food to be avoided? I don’t know about you, and I think my kids once thought the same way, but healthy was synonymous with “Tastes lousy!”

Like a number of the foods I now consider absolutes in my pantry or on my table, figs have been an acquired taste. Maybe they are meant to be enjoyed by adults who have ascended many culinary heights, and finally find their palates leaning toward a more subtle earthiness; a flavor that, though divine on its own, can be enhanced by the creaminess of Manchego cheese, the saline accent of olives or the vibrancy of aged balsamic vinegar. Fresh figs offer a simplicity and versatility comparable to tomatoes with an unfortunate shorter growing season and shelf life.

California’s own Central Valley – Fresno and its environs, to be exact – is the major fig producing region in the US, with Texas coming in a close second. Though I am a partial to fresh figs this time of year, it is the 28 million pounds of dried figs produced annually in California that keeps us figged up throughout the year. Many recipes that call for fresh figs can be successfully executed with the dried version; just be sure to hydrate them first. Gently boiled in water mixed with some brandy or wine, if desired, should do the trick.

Her are some fig facts, thanks to the California Fig Advisory Board:

- The fig is the hot topic fruit in the Bible, and mentioned in Babylonian text as early as 2000 BC. Fig leaves, of course, were also the clothing of choice for Adam and Eve and there is some debate that the “forbidden fruit” may have been a fig rather than an apple. Whew…that may ease a few apple growers’ consciences’! Figs have represented fertility, abundance and new life in many different references throughout history and in both Biblical and mythological texts.

- In ancient Greece, figs were so highly valued that “Solon, the ruler of Attica {639-559 BC} actually made it illegal to export figs out of Greece, reserving them solely for his citizens.”

- Pliny the Elder, whose quote about artichokes I’ve included in a previous entry, liked figs a bit more, writing, “Figs are restorative. They increase the strength of young people, preserve the elderly and make them look younger with fewer wrinkles.” Figs, the wonder fruit, compliments of Pliny!

- Charlemagne, in about 812 AD, tried but could not get figs to grow in the Netherlands. Too cold and damp, perhaps?

-Captain Bligh, of mutiny infamy, planted the first fig tree in Tasmania in 1792.

As for nutrients, fiber, iron, calcium and potassium are all a part of a ¼ cup serving of dried figs, with no fat, no sodium and no cholesterol.

So enough with the facts, enjoy figs for what they bring to your taste buds – happiness!

There was on Old Person of Ischia,
Whose conduct grew friskier and friskier
He danced hornpipes and jigs,
And ate thousands of figs,
That lively Old Person of Ischia
- Edward Lear, English artist and limerick writer, 1812-1888

Fresh Fig Jam

Enjoy straight out of out of the bowl by the spoonful, or if you just have to be more sophisticated, serve as a relish with roasted rack of lamb or on a crostini with Gorgonzola or Manchego cheese. Thanks to Sara Nelson of The Kitchen Elves Personal Chef Service, Durham NC

8 oz ripe figs, Black Mission preferred, but any varietal will work well
½ cup fruity wine - I like Kastania Vineyards Pinot Noir

¼ cup sugar
1 tsp grated orange zest

Freshly ground pepper to taste

Trim off stems of figs and finely chop. Place in a saucepan and add the remaining ingredients. Bring to boil; reduce heat to low and cook for approximately 25 minutes or until '"jammy" in texture, stirring approximately every 5 minutes. Watch carefully and adjust heat as necessary - the mixture can burn easily!

Transfer to a bowl, cool and serve. The jam will keep refrigerate for 3-5 days, but I dare you not to eat it all at once!

Oven Roasted Rack of Lamb with Fresh Fig Jam, Couscous-Stuffed
Heirloom Tomatoes & Sauteed Basil Summer Squash

Orb of Joy!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 21:03:00 +0000

Spring is in the air, which means it's the beginning of artichoke season here in Northern California. YES!Referred to by Pliny the Elder (23-79 A.D.) as "one of the earth's monstrosities", artichokes, those funky-looking, prickly tipped greens globes, are one of the culinary world’s wonders. Few delectables look more foreboding than an artichoke; even fewer reveal such a subtle, sweet-smoke flavor, accentuated by citrus notes and earthy undertones. It’s not easy to eat an artichoke and that seems to be by nature’s design – you have to work for something this sublime and delicious.

I was first served an artichoke in college and couldn’t have been more put off by the steamed green orbs placed on the dinner table. A sorority sister’s family grew them on their ranch in the Central Coast area and the house was the recipient of a recent crop. 100% of the United States' artichoke crop is grown in California, largely concentrated in Monterey County, and also throughout the coastal areas between San Francisco and Santa Barbara, where warm days, foggy mornings and cool evenings make for a perfect ‘choke growing climate. Not being too adventurous in the fresh veggie eating category – I was one of the canned vegetable generation growing up, unfortunately – I was a bit put off by having to politely pull the leaves off this steamed green thing in front of me and then dip it in either mayonnaise or melted butter – both anathema to a college girl watching her weight. But sorority politeness was to be the rule of the day and once I navigated the cumbersome outer leaves and began dipping the tender insides, especially the luscious heart, into mayo, I discovered a flavor sensation my rather naive palate had never experienced. Subtle, sweet yet smoky, and creamy – I never thought a pile of leaves could bring such satisfaction and contentment! As a college grad, living on a limited budget, an artichoke or two, when in season, sustained me for dinner. And today, at prices ranging from $.89 - $1.00 each, they’re still an economical, easy, nutritious and filling lunch or dinner. My sons love them, and the time it takes to peel and eat the leaves adds extra time to the family dinner table – much needed time when one has teens and wants to chat with them!
Italians had long savored this peculiar flower-cum-vegetable – our friend Pliny the Elder and his colleagues enjoyed them as far back as 77 AD and so did many other Romans over the years. We have Catherine de Medici to thank for introducing artichokes to France when she married Henry II in the 16th century. They have been a culinary staple ever since. French immigrants brought the plant with them to colonial Louisiana but with mixed results; though briefly cultivated in the Bayou State, nothing remains today of artichoke farming in the Southern United States.

Once again, it was up to the Italians to spread the love. Italian immigrants in the post-Gold Rush era introduced artichokes, along with broccoli and garlic, to Northern California and created the coastal communities that now grow these plants in abundance. Thank you!! What would mayonnaise be without an artichoke heart to dip it in?

"These things are just plain annoying. After all the trouble you go to, you get about as much actual "food" out of eating an artichoke as you would from licking 30 or 40 postage stamps. Have the shrimp cocktail instead." - Miss Piggy

Oh, just ignore Miss Piggy! She just doesn’t appreciate the effort needed to enjoy an artichoke. But, I’ll compromise with her – add a shrimp cocktail to a steamed artichoke and enjoy the magic!

I have the good fortune to live just over the hill from the charming village of Pescadero. Orignally part of the Mission Santa Cruz pasture land, Juan Jose Gonzalez was given a Mexican land grant in 1833. Not far from the Pacific's cool breezes, with rich, fertile soil, Gonzalez began raising livestock and farming, laying the foundation for Pescadero's agricultural future. 19th century poineer Alexander Moore came to the Pescadero Valley in 1853, establishing the first American presence in the area. By the 1860's, the village's ideal climate and convenient location to shipping made it a center for both farming and the lumber industry that harvested redwood strands in the mountians to the east.

A local gem, Pescadero today is a favorite destination for cyclists, bikers and drivers reveling in the beauty of the Santa Cruz Mountains between the San Mateo County coast and Silicon Valley. Dramatic views of the rugged coastline are accentuated by a visit to Pigeon Point Lighthouse & Hostel and hiking the many trails of Butano State Park reveal ancient redwoods and creeks. Pescadero State Beach is the perfect spot for beachcombing and the Pescadero Marsh Preserve across Highway 1 provides excellent bird watching.

For anyone visiting Coastside, a day trip is not complete without savoring a bowl of artichoke soup at Duarte's Tavern in "downtown" Pescadero. Old school does not begin to describe to ambience of this landmark bar, coffee shop, restuarant and bakery. A recipent of the James Beard Foundation's Coca-Cola America's Classic Award in 2003, Duarte's has been serving generations of locals, thousands of tourists and anyone who really enjoys great food for over 60 years. The artichoke soup is a must and the array of local delicacies - cioppino, abalone, dungeness crab - are the perfect follow up to this luscious starter (combine it with the Red Pepper Soup for an even better experience!). AN a meal is not complete without a slice of Oallieberry Pie, a classic recipe created by founder Emma Duarte in the 1930's. A contented drive or ride home will be the capper to an exhilierating and satisfying day at the Coast.

I haven't altered Duarte's Artichoke Soup recipe, really. I just added the Crème Fraiche and the gremolata. Sort of like gilding the lily. Garnish or not, this soup is a spoonful at a time of smokey-sweet artichoke flavor, only without all the work. Miss Piggy would like that!

Creamy Artichoke Soup

Inspired by Duarte's Tavern,
Pescadero, California

8 artichoke hearts and surrounding tender leaves, with choke removed
Juice of 1 lemon added to a bowl of cold water
1 onion, diced
1 bay leaf
2 garlic cloves
2 cups chicken broth
1 cup heavy cream
Salt & pepper to taste
1 tablespoon fresh squeezed lemon juice
For Gremolata:
One large shallot, minced
4 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
Zest of 1 lemon
Sour cream or crème Fraiche for garnish

To prepare artichokes - add the juice of one lemon to a bowl of water; remove outer leaves by pulling down on them toward the stem; repeat until you have reached the tender light green/white leaves surrounding the heart. Slice the artichoke in half and remove the feathery "choke" and purplish leaves with a pairing knife and/or a melon baller. Immediately submerge in the lemon water. Repeat with remaining artichokes. Once all artichokes are readied, place in a steamer basket within a large stock pot with 1-2 cups of water; add the bay leaf and the garlic cloves to the basket with the artichokes. Cover, bring the water to a boil and steam the artichokes until they are tender to a knife - approximately 20 minutes. Adjust the heat accordingly. Do not over steam.

While the artichokes steam, heat 1-2 tablespoons of olive oil in a sauté pan and add the diced onions. Lower the heat, cover the pan and let the onion "sweat" until soft, about 10-15 minutes. Do not let them brown as this will add a distinctive onion flavor to the soup.

Once the artichokes are cooked through, remove from the heat and let them cool until you can handle them easily. Remove leaves from the heart - this should be very easy with fresh artichokes - and using a pairing knife, scrap off any "meat" from the leaves. Place the hearts, scrapped "meat" and the steamed garlic in a blender. Reserved the bay leaf. Add one cup of the chicken broth and puree until smooth, adding more chicken broth if necessary.
Pour artichoke puree into a large saucepan, add the cream, 1 tablespoon lemon juice, salt & pepper to taste and the reserved bay leaf. Bring to a gentle boil and then simmer for 12-20 minutes for flavors to blend.
While the soup is simmering, make the gremolata: combine the lemon zest, the minced parsley and the minced shallot in a small bowl.

To serve, remove the bay leaf, ladle warm soup into bowls, add a dollop of sour cream or crème Fraiche and sprinkle to soup with the gremolata.
Enjoy!

Black Eyed Peas

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 00:12:00 +0000

I had fun preparing Black Eyed Peas for the first time. I had some help from my friend and fellow Personal Chef Sandy Hall of Denton, Texas. http://www.dinnersondemand.biz/

Sandy says, "I moved to TX at the tender age of 23, so I'm not a native Southerner. But we have Black Eyed Peas to honor my husband's traditions (he's from Alabama) and also because I've finally learned a way to cook them so they taste great and aren't simply overcooked pots of mush. I keep the preparation on the "clean" side, any meat is served on the side normally, and it's a nice way to move past the excesses of the Hanukkah and Christmas holidays and start a new year on a heart healthy note."

Thanks, Sandy! I've replicated the Basic Black Eyed Peas recipe from Fine Cooking magazine. As a BEP virgin, I'm pleased the results, but see note following the recipe.

2 Bay leaves
2 cloves garlic
2-3 sprigs fresh thyme
1 1/2 cups dried black eyed peas, sorted through and rinsed
1 tsp kosher salt

Measure the beans, sort and rinse

Wrap the bay leaves, garlic and thyme in cheesecloth and tie with twine.

Cover by 2 inches of water, about 2 quarts, add the herb bundle and bring to a boil.

Lower heat to maintain a very gentle simmer, cover and cook until the beans are tender but not splitting and falling apart, about 1- 1 1/2 hours Add more water if needed. When done, discard herb bundle and serve.

I tried to do Sandy proud but I think I may have overcooked the peas just a bit. They weren't complete mush but probably mushier than would be acceptable in Denton, Texas. I like 'em, though! There's an earthy aroma and nutty flavor that makes these peas a keeper!

Thanks, Sandy! And Uncle Arthur!

Sherman's March Past The Peas

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 23:44:00 +0000

I always remember relatives long gone as the year turns and one whom I conjured this past week was my Uncle Arthur. He was a true Kentucky gentleman, with a sonorous drawl, an extraordinary palate and a marvelous affinity for bourbon. Uncle Arthur got me thinking about traditions – he was big on those, especially when it came to how he drank his bourbon (that’s another post), and also how important food was when planning “occasions”, as he called them, and that’s a drawn-out long O, with a lot of drawl-infused affectation. Though he never prepared them for me, I heard some family lore about Arthur and black eyed peas, and that in his household, New Year’s Day was not New Year’s Day without them. That was in St. Matthews, KY circa 1950.
Our story now takes us to California, and the suburban track home of the Reilly’s…
A Midwesterner by birth and sister-in-law of the afore mentioned Kentucky gentleman, my mother was not a cook. She spent a lot of time at her sister’s home in St. Matthews prior to her marriage, and was no doubt the happy recipient of many an Arthur-prepared menu. But Mom never brought any time-honored cooking into her Southern California home; the Southern in California being the closest she would ever get to the South after 1957. There were to be no black eyed peas in the Reilly home on New Year’s Day.
We were Rose Bowl people – Mom a Michigan State grad, Dad a Stanford Indian (yes, that’s what they were called back in the day) – so the January 1st tussle between the Pac-10 and the Big-10 became our NYD tradition. Fortunately, the Spartans and the Cardinal never played one another during my parents marriage so we were always safe rooting for the Pac-10, unless USC was playing, in which case we’d cheer for the Big-10, unless it was Michigan. If the Trojans and the Wolverines were the contenders, we’d watch re-runs of the Rose Parade instead of the game. There’s only so much rivalry one family can handle.
Fast forward 30-plus years…

As a cook and one especially interested in culinary history and traditions, I was aware of this custom in the southern United States of making black eyed peas to welcome in the coming year. A friend from Oklahoma has actually prepared them for me several times, but I didn’t understand their significance. Determined to expand my own culinary knowledge, I did a little internet research and Googled “Black Eyed Peas”. Yes, I could still get tickets to their concert with Lady Gaga and Phish, but I digress…

The Black Eyed Pea is a modest legume, but also one of sustenance and a harbinger of good luck, (http://www.loc.gov/rr/scitech/mysteries/blackeyedpeas.html). And here’s where the luck part comes in:
It’s 1864 and the Civil War is raging. Major General William Tecumseh Sherman of the United States Army is cutting a brutal swath across the South. His troops pillage the farms and plantations they come across, taking farm animals, crops in the fields, anything that resembles food. What the Federals leave in their wake is the unassuming black eyed pea. Produced as fodder for livestock and grown by slaves for their own use, Sherman’s men ignore this lowly plant, oblivious of its high protein content and nutritional value. The humble black eyed pea becomes the sustenance Southerners, black and white, rely upon in the tumultuous post-Sherman times. The deliverance it provided as never been forgotten. It is a lucky bean indeed! http://gosoutheast.about.com/od/restaurantslocalcuisine/a/blackeyedpeas.htm
We are now a decade into this new millennium and good luck is still as important a wish as it was in 1864. I wish you many things in 2010: always, good food and exceptional people to share it with; finding a hidden treasure that makes a difference in your life; a special memory. Here’s to you, Uncle Arthur, I don’t usually drink bourbon, but I love the black eyed peas! We’ve had an Occasion today.
Happy New Year!
And in case you were wondering, GO DUCKS!!!

Cheers to the Widow!

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 03:57:00 +0000

The name Barbe-Nicole Clicquot Ponsardin does not come tripling off the tongue, nor is it familiar to many. But when presented with the goldenrod-labeled bottle, many a savvy wine drinker instantly recognizes her, La Veuve Clicquot.

In Tilar Mazzeo’s 2008 book The Widow Clicquot, the woman who merited little or no biographical chronicling in her own time is brought to life as a wife and mother, but more importantly, as a wine maker and an entrepreneur well ahead of her time. http://www.tilar-mazzeo.com/

Barbe-Nicole’s story is compelling for a number of reasons. The daughter of a bourgeois textile merchant with royalist leanings, she survived the French Revolution to marry a young man who took her not only as his partner in life but in business as well. She and husband Francois began a (then unique) wine distribution enterprise that brought the vintages of Champagne to Russia, Prussia and other parts of Europe that would eventually be at war with Napoleon’s France. Francois died of typhoid fever before Barbe-Nicole turned 30 (she would wear widow’s weeds for over 60 years), but she took advantage of the status granted her as a wealthy widow to continue the family business.

By today’s standards, a woman taking the helm of her husband’s business is not unusual, but in 19th century France, this was certainly not the norm. Let’s remember that Francois and Barbe-Nicole were equal partners; after his death, she maintained a business partnership with several other men, which increased the revenues and reputation of her Champagne house. The cottage industries that allowed bourgeois woman to make a living – needlework, dairy farming and the like – in the late 1700’s had gone out of fashion by the time Barbe-Nicole was widowed in 1804. When presented with the obstacles that may have otherwise thwarted a less determined person, she persevered.
According to Ms. Mazzeo, “Barbe-Nicole became an ardent industrialist. She was not just the first woman to build a commercial champagne house founded on new mercantilist principles; she was one of only a handful of entrepreneurs to do it all. She wasn’t just an amazing businesswoman. She was amazing at business."
As amazing as she was at business, her great passion was her product, Champagne, and she took great pains to make it the best on the market. Champagne is a fragile and fickle concoction, and the 19th version did not benefit from the refinements contemporary winemakers have had at their disposal; there was still a lot of guess work involved in the quality and consistency of the final product. Barbe-Nicole brought to Champagne a singular technique that made all the difference in clarity, taste and stability – riddling, or Remuage. “Part of the Méthode Champenoise, riddling (Remuage) is the shaking process by which dead yeasts are moved to the neck of the bottle after the second fermentation.” (http://en.mimi.hu/wine/riddling.html). Our modern celebrations have La Veuve to thank for making them more effervescent and enjoyable!

Winemaking is not the most “female-friendly” business. Barbe-Nicole succeeded in a time when a woman, in any endeavor, was not greeted with a great deal of enthusiasm. To have created a 200 year old legacy in a male-dominated industry is one of La Veuve’s lasting accomplishments. That Cecile Bonneford has been the president of Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin since 2001 is another, and I salute her! Vive la femme!
http://www.veuve-clicquot.com/htm/en/veuve-clicquot-president-message.htm.

To designate their wines, before labels were used, winemakers burnt symbols into the corks that would seal their vintages. Madame Clicquot chose the anchor as her emblem. Representing hope, the anchor is a fitting icon for La Veuve. Hope, mixed with an uncanny business sense, has surely made Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin the enduring Champagne house it is today.

As an ardent imbiber of Champagne, and as a female entrepreneur, I have only the greatest respect and admiration for Barbe-Nicole Clicquot Ponsardin.

Cheers this New Year’s Eve! I’m popping my bottle of Le Veuve right now!

And here's to Hope and all it can bring us in 2010!

Julian, Greg and a Date for New Year’s

noreply@blogger.com (Margie MacKenzie) — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 21:36:00 +0000

As I researched the history of New Year’s, I found lots of fascinating customs used worldwide to bid the old adieu and welcome the new. Many involve flammable objects of one sort or another, and the Philippine tradition of wearing polka-dots struck me as quite creative. What really absorbed my time and brain cells, though, was some head-spinning reading about how January 1st actually became New Year’s Day. That’s where Julian and Greg come in.

With all due respect, Julian is actually Julius Caesar and Greg is Pope Gregory XIII, both of Rome, both highly influential in their respective times and both with an eponymous calendar.

It was at the behest of Julius Caesar to better serve his expanding empire that a new Roman calendar was adopted in 709 BC. Based on the solar calendars used by the Greeks, Egyptians and Babylonians, the new calendar was adapted by Alexandrian astronomer Sosigenes and consisted of a system similar to what we have today, using the solstices and equinoxes to determine months and seasons.

Controversy entered the picture when it came time to determine the start of the New Year. Caesar being Caesar insisted that either the vernal equinox in March or the winter solstice in December signal the beginning. The Roman Senate flexed its veto powers, though, and being good public servants, declared January 1st, the opening day of their annual session, to begin the Roman civil year. Ever the savvy politician, Caesar bowed to the Senate’s wishes, but he still got calendar name rights.

Senate edict, or not, New Year’s Day in the Roman world was still more closely associated with the vernal equinox. As Christianity became the official faith of Rome, religious holidays coincided with those associated with the empire’s Pagan past. The Feast of the Annunciation (the Angel Gabriel’s announcement to Mary that she would conceive the Son of God) on March 25, nine months prior to Christmas Day, commenced the springtime new year. It is no coincidence that Easter, too, should be celebrated at this time of new life. In fact, it was Easter that brought about the change in calendars.

Now Greg enters our story. According to The Julian and Gregorian Calendars by Peter Meyer “… after about 131 years the calendar is out of sync with the equinoxes and solstices by one day. Thus as the centuries passed the Julian Calendar became increasingly inaccurate with respect to the seasons. This was especially troubling to the Roman Catholic Church because it affected the determination of the date of Easter, which, by the 16th Century, was well on the way to slipping into summer.”

In his 1582 reforms, Pope Gregory XIII invoked an edict by the First Council of Nicaea which in 325 AD declared that Easter must correspond with the Vernal Equinox. To reestablish this precedent in light of Easter’s wondering into June, the Gregorian calendar was established, deleting 10 days from the calendar, readjusting leap years and creating a strict determination of the dates on which Easter would fall.

Most of Western Europe implemented the Gregorian calendar over the next 150 or so years, but this still did not establish a universal New Year’s Day. The significance of either the winter solstice or vernal equinox in various locales was more likely to determine the commencement of the New Year, which could be observed on March 1, March 25, December 25 or January 1. (Confusing, to say the least, for champagne sales, but that’s another post.) England and its colonies joined the Gregorian club in 1752, declared January 1st to be the New Year’s Day and the rest of Western Europe followed suit. The Greek and Eastern Orthodox Churches remained on the Julian system, but that’s way too complicated to get into here.

January 1st is also significant in that it commemorates the Feast of the Circumcision of Christ, 8 days after Christmas Day which is also 4 days after the Winter Solstice. This once again illustrates Rome’s fine ability of folding the pagan rituals of the empire’s conquered western colonies into its Christian embrace.

Given New Year’s contemporary lay observance, it’s interesting to note the Church’s involvement in January 1st's eventual selection as the start of the year. It is the melding of the secular and the sacred that has given us so many holidays and celebrations. And where would we be without Julius and Greg? Be sure to give them a clink of the glass as you toast 2010!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

With thanks to: http://www.hermetic.ch/cal_stud/cal_art.html, www.wikipedia.com

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