Rhubarb and Venison

The Great Plains

2012-01-22T03:34:00.001-06:00

There is indeed a reason we call these plains Great. I heart ND.

(Photo taken near Elgin, ND on 1/7/12)

Brunch Egg Bake

2012-01-18T20:51:00.000-06:00

Yes, those cinnamon rolls are as amazing as they look. Check out my post on them here. But today, I want to talk about that dish in the back, next to Buzz and the grapefruit juice. Let's not play games here. This is not a quiche. It's not a frittata. It's not an omelet. What we have here is a classic hearty Midwestern egg bake. Lots of eggs, cheese, sausage, and enough veggies to add some color and make you feel like maybe this is actually good for you.

Lucky for you, this egg bake is good for you. Maybe not an everyday food as far as your arteries are concerned, but it is good for the soul.

I whipped this up for a New Years Day brunch this year, a mish-mash of a few different egg bake recipes I found on AllRecipes plus a little sprinkle of extra veggies that I had on hand. In case you are considering a similar event next year, let me say that a New Years Day brunch is a terrible idea. Half your friends will be hungover, the other half will be too lazy to leave the house on this rare holiday from work. You will make this egg bake along with a huge batch of caramel rolls, prepping enough to feed a small army, and a total of six of your most dedicated friends and family will appear at your door.

Ah, but what a feast it will be. The lucky guests will help themselves to seconds on the egg bake, another roll, and heck, why not fill me up with another mimosa? Everyone goes home with Tupperware containers filled with egg bake for tomorrow and a few rolls wrapped up in foil. A great way to start off a new year, me thinks. The hungover folks won't know what they're missing.

Brunch Egg Bake
3 c. shredded cheese (I used half mozz, half cheddar)
4 oz. sliced mushrooms
4 oz. frozen chopped spinach, thawed
1/2 red pepper, diced
1/2 green pepper, diced
1/2 onion, diced
1 lb. Italian sausage, cooked and crumbled
2 Tbls. butter
12 eggs
2 c. milk
Parsley, basil and any other herbs you want to try (fresh if you got it, dried is ok too)
Salt and pepper to taste

Grease a 13" x 9" glass or Pyrex dish with butter. Sprinkle half the cheese on the bottom. Set aside.

In a large pan, melt the butter and saute the onion, peppers, and mushrooms until softened, about 5 mins. Add in the spinach and sausage; mix and pour over the cheese in the baking dish. Top with remaining cheese.

In a large bowl, beat the eggs, milk, herbs, salt and pepper (not much salt, as the cheese and sausage are already salty). Pour over the veg/cheese/sausage mix and bake at 350 degrees for 45 mins or until firm in the middle and browned on top. Let stand at least 10 mins before serving.

Better-For-You Chocolate Chip Cookies

2012-01-10T06:34:00.000-06:00

So how are those New Years resolutions going for you? The first thing I ate in 2012 was an ooey, gooey, butter-and-sugar-laden cinnamon roll. I ate it with gusto and joie de vivre, as that cinnamon roll represented my commitment not to take myself too seriously this year, to enjoy the moment, to toss aside my tendency to be overzealous about January 1 health regimens and well-intentioned promises to myself that always end up being too heavy for me to bear in my oh-too-real life.

But I don't eat cinnamon rolls everyday.

In my constant quest to incorporate more whole food, more real food, less supermarket pre-packaged food into my family's diet, I treated myself to the cookbook Clean Food on the recommendation of my spirit-of-the-prairie friend Jenny, who cooked up some delicious baked root vegetable "fries" from the book for me to seal the deal. Of course, one of the first things I make from the book are the chocolate chip cookies. My sweet tooth dictated me. I had no choice in the matter.

To call these "cookies" is a bit of a misnomer. They are more like baked granola bites. The dough is sticky and difficult to work with (using the side of the mixing bowl to shape the dough balls helped), but I had to post these because the level of sweetness is perfect. I also appreciate all the whole foods goodness packed in each little bite: oats, walnuts, coconut, all sweetened with maple syrup. On the nutrition index, it's still not a bowl of kale, but since I choose not to go through life deprived of cookies, the least I can do is be a little more well-intentioned about it.

Better-For-You Chocolate Chip Cookies
From Clean Food, expect a sticky dough and cookies that remind you more of gorp than Toll-House, but the crunchy granola gal in me loved these. Makes two dozen.

2 c. rolled oats
1 c. all-purpose flour or brown rice flour
3/4 c. shredded unsweetened coconut
1 Tbls. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. sea salt
3/4 c. maple syrup
1/2 c. canola oil
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 c. chopped toasted walnuts
1/2 c. chocolate chips (or more to taste)

In large bowl, combine oats, flour, coconut, cinnamon and salt. In separate bowl, whisk together syrup, oil and vanilla. Pour wet ingredients into dry and stir until evenly combined. Fold in walnuts and chocolate chips. Prss dogh into equal-size balls, place onto parchment-lined cookie sheet and bake at 350 degrees for 15 mins or until lightly browned.

The Eggnog Experiment

2011-12-29T07:04:00.001-06:00

Here are all the reasons why my holiday experiment with homemade eggnog was terrible (in no particular order):

1. I used whole milk. Not creamy enough. I should've tried using half-and-half.
2. I didn't sweeten it enough.
3. It has raw eggs in it. How does one overcome a lifetime of fear and dread over repercussions from ingesting raw eggs? Cookie dough excluded, of course.
4. I may not have had enough raw egg in it.
5. Frankly, I just don't like nutmeg very much.
6. Frankly, I just don't like brandy very much.

So there you go. My husband tasted it and tried to put a positive spin on it, saying, "Well, maybe you just have to let it sit in the fridge for awhile." Code for "Let's put this away and make hot chocolate instead, before we get a holiday case of salmonella." Smart man.

If you have an eggnog recipe you swear by, I'm all ears, but next year maybe we'll try making some wassail instead.

Hope your holidays were full of peace, joy, generosity, and good eats!

Pheasant Tortilla Soup

2011-12-19T12:16:00.000-06:00

My mother and I are so alike. We sound the same on the phone, have similar wide-mouthed, eye-crinkled smiles, and we both think the ultimate display of love from a spouse is an unsolicited housecleaning. We both wear the same shoe size, think Robert Redford is a dreamboat, and eat too many peanut M&Ms.

We share a mutual affection for Neil Diamond. Need I say more?

But when it comes to cooking, we can't be more different. She will follow the recipe to the letter, grocery shopping for each and every ingredient and using the 1/8 tsp. measuring spoon to ensure an exact amount of cumin. She finds comfort in methodology, the idea that by following instructions, results are assured.

Meanwhile, I dash, pinch, toss, and substitute. I leave things out, add things in, dig in the back of my fridge for nominees to go in the pot, and say "Well, that'll work" a lot. I find joy in making do with what I've got, using my intuition when it comes to how much cumin a recipe really needs, and never having the same meal twice.

Perfect example of my tendency to tweak: pheasant tortilla soup. Of course this was a recipe for chicken tortilla soup, and of course, I figured a prairie chicken harvested this past fall would do just fine in the soup pot. And it did - flavorful, warm and soothing, and even pretty to look at. Pheasant is NOT chicken, though. In this soup, the flavor isn't much affected, but the texture is different, rougher and drier than the steroid-laden, salt-water-injected chicken breasts we find in the supermarket nowadays. But in my humble opinion, a hot bowl of soup, created by making do with what you have, is one of the simplest paths to happiness and contentment.

Pheasant Tortilla Soup

Found this recipe in an advertisement for cough syrup, adjusted as I saw fit. It's not a really heavy, cream-laden tortilla soup like you see in chain restaurants. Instead, it is brothy, with chunks of goodness, just what you want on a cold, sniffly winter day. The tortillas are going to get mushy in any leftovers, so stir a handful of those into the individual soup bowls instead of dumping them all into the pot at once.

About 3/4 lb. pheasant breast
Olive oil
1 tsp. chili powder
1/2 tsp. cumin

1/2 tsp. salt
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 red pepper, diced
1 can (14 oz) diced tomatoes, juice and all
4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
5 corn tortillas, cut into thin strips

Garnishes: Shredded cheese, chopped cilantro, sour cream, and diced avocado

Rub pheasant with 1 Tbls. olive oil, chili powder, cumin and salt. Roast in 375 degree oven until cooked through but still tender, about 20 mins. Set aside to cool slightly.

Heat 1 Tbls. olive oil in soup pot. Add onion, garlic and pepper and cook until softened, about 5 mins. Add tomatoes and broth and simmer 25 mins. Meanwhile, shred the cooked pheasant into bite-size pieces. Stir meat into pot, along with any accumulated juices.

To serve, ladle soup in bowls, stir in handful of tortilla strips into each bowl and garnish.

Lefse Ham Sandwich

2011-12-17T16:13:00.000-06:00

After a long (and successful!) day of Christmas shopping, this North Dakota gal refueled with a lefse ham sandwich.

Ah, lefse, those deceivingly simple-looking potato flatbreads. According to Wikipedia, the lefse region in the U.S. (meaning the states where lefse is available in grocery stores) spans from Washington to Wisconsin, but the true heart of lefse country is Minnesota and, by a little bit of an extension me thinks, North Dakota. I can't vouch for MN, but around here, 99.3% of the lefse is spread with butter, sprinkled with sugar, and rolled up for serving. At our family holiday table, lefse is unquestioned. It's just going to be there. Period.

But I can only do so much butter and sugar over the holiday season, even on lefse. It's December 17th and I already feel stuffed with sugar cookies, almond bark pretzels, caramel corn, and gingerbread men. With a stack of homemade lefse in the fridge, I skipped the typical sweet version and instead took the savory path to lefseville. I highly recommend it.

Lefse Ham Sandwich
Spread lefse with cream cheese. Top with sliced ham and pickles, along with mustard (optional). Roll up and nosh.

The Best Biscotti

2011-12-14T20:45:00.000-06:00

The 2nd Annual Holiday Cookie Exchange has come and gone. Dear friends from high school (I'm talking to you, Amber, Jess, Em, Emily, Michelle, and Missy) came over for appetizers, bubbly, laughs, a little more bubbly, and of course, a few more laughs. It's quickly becoming our annual excuse to catch up, get away from the kids/husbands, discuss life changes from the past year (one marriage this year amongst us, a few new occupational/educational ventures, no new babies this time around) and just enjoy each others' company. Oh, and eat cookies. Everyone brings six packages of six cookies each to pass around, and everyone leaves with a bag full of baked goods and big smiles.

This year I made biscotti. I didn't want anything crazy, like fig and goat cheese biscotti, or caramelized apple biscotti, or whatever else concoctions one sees coming across Foodgawker. No, I wanted simple, good - no, great biscotti for my little soiree, so I turned to my fav blogs: Smitten Kitchen for a classic almond biscotti and David Lebovitz for his chocolate biscotti (the man knows his chocolate). At both these sites, I know what I'm getting, I know it's going to be great, and all I have to do is resist my constant urge to tweak and substitute to know they'll turn out a-ok.

I made these biscotti and immediately had to put them away on a high shelf so I wouldn't nibble nibble nibble them away before the party. Well, of course I had to taste test at least one of each first. And then there were a few broken ones I had to clean up. Oh, and no one is really going to want the biscotti heels, right? Lucky me, they are actually my favorite part.

Let's just say I got my fair share, plus plenty for my ladies at the party.

For great, simple biscotti recipes, check out the SK almond biscotti here and the DL chocolate biscotti here.

Spiced Venison Casserole (English Style)

2011-12-12T21:28:00.000-06:00

I love the idea of a Sunday dinner. A once-a-week ritual that involves a big spread, a couple bottles of wine, a leisurely pace, and most importantly, plenty of friends and family around the table.

This Pottery Barn scene rarely becomes a reality in our house though. We're usually out of town, or maybe we have other plans for our Sunday, or frankly sometimes we're just lazy. However, last weekend I was ready. I had the plan all set to make this lovely venison casserole, letting it simmer in a Dutch oven for a couple hours, homemade rolls, roasted potatoes with thyme and rosemary, a hearty glass of Cabernet, old-school Christmas music - the makings of a very merry Sunday in my book.

Then our friend Chris called my spouse with an invitation to go bird hunting that snowy Sunday. Kent gave me that look that reminds me of an 8-year-old boy that wants nothing more than to be allowed to go play baseball with his friends. "Please, mom? Please please PLEASE?" Of course I obliged. Off he went to frolic in the fields. Meanwhile, I still had my heart set on my Sunday dinner with that big glass of Cabernet, even though I rarely just cook for myself.

But what the hell. I made a gorgeous Sunday dinner for my toddler son and I with this casserole, those roasted potatoes, the amazing rolls and even extra peas on the side, since we are the only two in the household who truly appreciate the magic of Thomas Jefferson's favorite vegetable. And yes, I got my big glass of Cabernet too.

This casserole turned out amazingly tender, saucy, flavorful venison. I was a little unsure about the addition of yogurt, but it turned out great. Look for full-fat plain yogurt - it's hard to find in some grocery stores, I found it in the organic dairy section of my local store. I'm afraid non-fat yogurt will yield completely different results. Don't skimp on the spices, either - this recipe comes from a British book of cookery. Bless their hearts, those lovely Brits have come a long way from kidney stew, incorporating some amazing Indian flavors into their culinary repertoire thanks to Britain's beautiful multicultural population, but the amount of "spiced" flavor in this recipe is very mild. As a cumin and coriander fiend, I may add more of both to the pot the next go-round.

There were plenty of leftovers for the chilly, happily weary hunter when he returned home. Maybe it was the cold weather outside, maybe it was the ample exercise creating a hearty appetite, but Kent dug in and declared it "awesome." Awesome indeed.

Spiced Venison Casserole
I found this lovely cookbook Mary Berry's Family Sunday Lunches at my local library. I think it's a keeper - great recipes for big cuts of meat along with some vegetarian curries and "puddings" for dessert. Call me an Anglophile, but I can't get enough of this stuff.

1 Tbls. oil
2 lbs. venison, cut into 1.5" cubes
2 large onions, chopped
1 Tbls. fresh ginger, peeled and grated
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. turmeric
1 cup beef or chicken stock
1 and 1/2 Tbls. cornstarch
3/4 cup full-fat plain yogurt (Greek, if you can find it)
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Salt and pepper

Heat oil in a Dutch oven. Add venison and onion and cook until venison is browned and onion is softened. Add ginger and spices, stirring to coat meat. Add stock and bring to boil, stirring.

Measure cornstarch in a bowl and mix with yogurt until smooth. Stir into the pot, add lemon juice, and season with salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, stir until thickened. Cover and transfer to 350 degree oven for about 2 hours or until meat is tender. Serve hot with winter root vegetables.

Garrison Dickens Festival

2011-11-30T21:33:00.001-06:00

The top ten reasons you should head to the Dickens Festival in Garrison, North Dakota this weekend:

10. Pretty sure this is the only place in North Dakota where you can ride a double-decker bus. For $2, they'll take you on a jaunt to the beautiful Ft. Stevenson State Park.

9. You finally have a reason to pull out that antique brooch you love so much and people will compliment you on your authentic costume.

8. You can just stumble across talented musicians in matching vests like this band in one of the gift shops along the three-block-long Main Street.

7. Where else are you going to find wooden swords for that little boy or girl in your life? Sold by the man who made them, no less.

6. The Garrison thrift shop has one of the most amazing collections of cookie jars I've ever seen.

5. It's the only time I've gone to a play where the entire audience sang Christmas carols beforehand.

4. Did someone say smoked turkey legs?

3. Volunteers wear backpack kegs filled with hot chocolate and happily give you a cup just for asking.

2. You can buy a mickey of peppermint schnapps at the Hometown Tavern and spice up your hot chocolate. Nobody will suspect...

1. Where else do you get to drink tea while wearing hats like this in public?

The Dickens Festival runs this weekend (Dec. 2-3) and the next (Dec. 9-10) in Garrison. Get all the details and buy your play tickets in advance here.

Spaghetti and Dogs

2011-11-06T08:10:00.001-06:00

It took awhile to push the individual spaghetti noodles into the hot dog slices, but it was worth it just to try something different and kid-friendly. Mr. Potato Head served as quality control supervisor.

German Chocolate Cake

2011-10-29T06:14:00.000-05:00

I don't make cakes just to make cakes. Although I would love to wake up every Saturday and make a cake, letting it sit prettily upon my countertop, an open invitation promising hospitality to all who come near my kitchen, my sense of responsibility towards the health of my family prevails and cake becomes an occasional treat while a bowl of apples harvested from my generous neighbor's fruit-laden tree sits on the counter.

I read about a word association study once, where researchers asked Americans what they thought when the heard the words "chocolate cake." The most common response was one of guilt. The researchers asked French citizens the same question on chocolate cake, and the common response was one of celebration.

I'm with the French response on this one. Cake is not an everyday, even an every week food, as much as those frequent office parties with those terrible supermarket cakes like you to think otherwise. The idea of snack cake, something my grandmother would often make, keeping extra pieces of that frostingless sweet (yellow and chocolate cakes) in her chest freezer, does not make a frequent appearance in my household. Instead, cake is usually reserved for celebration, and when cake comes around, it is something to be relished. I love to make a layer cake on birthdays, flavor of the birthday boy's choosing. Making a cake from scratch in preparation of a celebration is a joy unto itself.

Kent always wants German chocolate cake with coconut pecan frosting. It's a funny cake, really; I don't think coconut is considered a traditional German food along with bratwurst and schnitzel. This combination is undoubtedly a product of the 1950's domestic era of America, when coconut probably became widely available and seemed exotic to home-bound housewives. But it is good. Really, really good. And as a nod to that 1950's cooking mentality, I swiped Kent's birthday cake recipe right out of Better Homes and Gardens. You can get the recipe here.

Happy birthday, love.

Harvest Restaurant Mandan

2011-10-15T08:00:00.002-05:00

See that handsome fella? That's my brother. Smart, sweet...and newly single! As his big sister, I will commence taking applications for his new girlfriend, as of course they must have my stamp of approval first. Right bro? Right? ...Dude?

Whenever a new restaurant opens in town, there's an audible buzz. "Have you been there yet? What's it like? Is it good? How much does it cost?" During a family gathering last night, some were talking about the new Harvest Brazilian Grill opening on Main Street on Mandan. In case others are wondering the same thing, I was there on opening night, and I'm here to tell you - it's good. Really. Go. Try it. Please.

I've been a big fan of Harvest ever since they opened their original restaurant in Linton. The restaurant in Linton was like a secret treasure, with warmth and surprising elegance in a small rural town (you can read more about the old Linton location here, which has since closed for relocation to Mandan). Zila, a kind, elegant Brazilian woman, found herself in rural North Dakota after her husband took a medical job here and decided to open a restaurant, demonstrating an energy and zest for life that belies her age. Her son Edgar had the idea to add a Brazilian grill to the restaurant and it blossomed into what you'll find today on Main Street in Mandan.

The star attraction is the Brazilian grill. It runs $30/person, but it's all-you-can-eat meat. And we're talking top quality meat. Steaks, chicken, sausage, parmesan pork, even pineapple are all brought to your table on big skewers and sliced off onto your plate. The servers come around quickly and frequently to refresh your plate and offer different items to try. If you need a break from the servers, just flip a card on your table to red and they'll stop coming to your table until you flip your card back to green again, indicating you are ready for more.

Of course, there is always room for improvement. In my personal opinion, the salad bar is just average, I was hoping for more variety there - except for Zila's famous rice and black beans, don't miss those! And making the dining area more inviting will be a work in progress as it's a huge space, different from the cozy warmth I remember from Harvest in Linton (I missed the tablecloths). But overall, it's new, it's different, it's locally owned - and it's delicious.

Postscript - I returned to Harvest for dinner in December 2011 and it was even better than I remembered. The restaurant was bustling with customers, the service was smooth, the lighting was dimmer/better, the salad bar had a few upgrades, and the blank walls were filled with some nice prints. Still $30/person, or you can do a mini version for $25, which is exactly the same meatastic experience except you don't get a couple of the red meats. I had the mini version, my husband had the full version, and frankly, I didn't notice a difference. So glad to see fresh, innovative restaurants filling downtown Bismarck-Mandan!

The Gun Cart

2011-10-12T21:38:00.002-05:00

I guess I should be upset that my husband converted our child's stroller into a gun cart to use at the shooting range. But I'm ok with it. Hey, at least it's recycling.

Moscow Bar

2011-10-10T23:18:00.000-05:00

See the woman in the picture? Her name is Victoria and she is a Russian ballerina, straight out of the Nutcracker or Swan Lake, or Black Swan, except without any of Natalie Portman's psychosis. Victoria has opened a bar in Mandan called Moscow Bar and it's such an interesting contrast that I wrote an article about it for a local paper, but I like the story so much, I'm reprinting it here.

I had no idea when I sat down to interview Victoria about her business that she was a ballerina. I guess I should've had a hunch, with her teeny-tiny physique and excellent posture. We ended up talking about ballet for two hours. She is so obviously devoted to the art, her whole heart and soul involved in dance, her eyes gazing wistfully at the carefully-saved newspaper clippings, flyers and posters promoting her performances, all with glowing reviews.

To be honest, I'm still not completely clear why she decided to open a bar. I don't know if she really knows herself. A recent car accident slowed her down from dancing, and after spending a lifetime in dance, how could you not have some longing for the stage?

(Article reprinted from The Prairie Independent, October 2011)

“Russian-born Victoria Luchkina, who danced the role of swan princess Odette (in “Swan Lake”), performed in a way that was anything but human…. She was poignantly beautiful from the moment she bounded onto the stage. Dressed in a white tutu adorned with feathers, Ms. Luchkina used her round, soulful eyes to her advantage – it was with a look of heart-stopping sadness, as if she had given herself to the fate of being a swan for all eternity, that she glided around the lake scene…” - Santa Barbara News-Press, October 14, 2008

Victoria Luchkina, owner of Moscow Bar in Mandan, walks in the bar with her arms full of papers. A tiny wisp of a woman with large doe eyes filling her small face, she smiles brightly and is eager to tell me about herself and how she arrived in North Dakota. “These papers will help me tell my story,” she explains in a soft voice with a thick Russian accent, spreading out articles, posters and pictures from the ballet. As we sat down on one of the leather couches in the bar, sipping coffee, little did I know that not only was I talking to the owner of Moscow Bar; I was also sitting next to a prima ballerina.

Moscow Bar is Mandan’s newest nightspot, located on Main Street and drawing a young crowd with its techno dubstep music and fruit concoctions such as strawberry shots and drinks served in pineapples. “We tried coconuts too, but they were a pain to open,” says Luchkina’s partner and bartender Tema Bold, laughing. The walls are lined with a brick-like façade to represent the walls of the Kremlin in Moscow’s Red Square and a dance floor by the DJ booth invites guests to let loose.

Opened in March 2011, Moscow Bar is Luchkina’s first venture into the bar business. “If I do something, I don’t just do it 100 percent; I do it 200 percent,” she says. “I like to make people happy. I’m just trying to do the best I can, do the maximum good.”

Her determination to always do her best is rooted in her disciplined childhood. Born in Kazakhstan in what was then part of the Soviet Union, Luchkina’s mother sent her away to ballet school at the age of 9. “My mother didn’t want me to work in a factory,” says Luchkina. “She wanted something better for me and sent me to be a ballerina.” Her training in ballet was strict and intense, starting each day at 8 am and sometimes not ending until 8 pm. “The school was hard and sometimes I didn’t want to do it,” Luchkina admits. “But my mom encouraged me to keep going.”

And keep going she did, all the way to principal dancer with the Grigorovich Theatre Ballet in Russia, under director Yuri Grigorovich, former director of the celebrated Bolshoi Ballet. “I love ballet. I love the culture of ballet, the classical music. It’s where my heart is,” she says.

Luchkina made her way to North Dakota via California, where she danced with the State Street Ballet in Santa Barbara. There she met Tema Bold, also a professional, classically-trained ballet dancer who had spent time teaching at Let’s Dance Studio in Bismarck. When Bold got an offer to return to Bismarck to teach, he asked Luchkina to come with. “He told me North Dakota is a nice place with good families who have lots and lots of kids. I wanted to have a family too!” she says with a big smile. “The people here make this place beautiful.”

After opening and later closing Victoria’s Dance Studio in Hazen, Luchkina decided to open Moscow Bar. “I think this work will make me stronger,” she says thoughtfully. “It is hard work, and sometimes you feel like…” Here Victoria struggles to come up with the word in English and speaks to Tema in Russian, asking for a translation. “…sometimes you feel like a blind kitten, that’s it, but life and time are the best teachers. I’m very, very grateful for all the people that have helped me here.”

Ballet will always be a major part of Luchkina’s life, as she feels the dance has given her so much, and she dreams of someday opening a beautiful theater or producing a full-scale professional ballet in North Dakota. “I want to do something for the (ballet) culture in return,” she says.

Apple Frangipane Galette

2011-10-06T21:02:00.002-05:00

Meet my breakfast this week. And my after-work snack. And my 10:30 pm oh-just-a-bite-won't-hurt nibble. I literally could not stay away from this thing, but why would I want to? Fat, schmat, I'm here to enjoy life while I've got it, buttery galette and all.

So let's dissect the name of this thing, shall we? Apple - you got that. The oft-cited forbidden fruit of Eden, the modern symbol of knowledge, technology and mid-to-late 20th century British rock, the apple my eye. Frangipane is a sweet, buttery almond paste - think marzipan, but with a stick of butter mixed in. You'll wonder how you made it this far in life without it. And galette is a fancy French word for tart.

Now that we know what this is, let me tell you why you need to make this right now. Now. Right now.

1. It's apple season. It's been unseasonally warm here for early October, and usually we'd wait for a good hard frost before harvesting apples, but I've been picking apples from our backyard tree and the neighbor's tree (with their permission, of course) for the past couple weeks. I just can't resist, and for baking, I actually like apples on the tart side.

2. Despite the long recipe, this is easy-peasy to make. You can make the frangipane and the dough in advance, both made with just a quick spin in the food processor. When you're ready to bake, just roll the dough out (this dough is amazingly easy to work with), spread the frangipane over the top, spread the apples over, drizzle with butter, sprinkle with sugar, and bake.

3. This galette is a multi-tasker. It's sweet enough for dessert, but not too sweet for breakfast. I am not above eating this for lunch and/or dinner, too, but that's coming from a woman who happily eats oatmeal for dinner. And although it's best the day it is made, the frangipane does a good job keeping the apple moisture away from the pastry, so the bottom doesn't get soggy, even on day 2.

4. Perhaps the most important reason of all: if you make this, you'll invite me over for a slice, right?

Apple Frangipane Galette
From Ready for Dessert by David Lebovitz - LOVE him! Check out his blog. The only mystery ingredient here is almond paste. You'll find it in the baking aisle at your local supermarket.

Frangipane:
4 ounces almond paste, crumbled
1 1/2 tsp. sugar
1 1/2 tsp. all-purpose flour
1/8 tsp. almond extract
6 Tbls. unsalted or salted butter, at room temperature
1 large egg, at room temperature

In a food processor, mix together almond paste, sugar, flour, and almond extract until almond paste is in fine pieces. Add butter and mix until completely incorporated, then add egg and continue mixing until frangipane is as smooth as possible. Don’t worry if there are a few tiny bits of almond paste; they’ll disappear with baking.

Dough:
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 Tbls. sugar
1/2 cup butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces and chilled
About 1/3 cup ice water

In a food processor, mix together the flour, sugar, and salt. Add butter pieces and process until the butter is evenly distributed but still in large, visible pieces. Add the ice water all at once to the flour and butter. Mix the dough just until it begins to come together (be especially careful not to overmix the dough). Gather the dough with your hands -- don't worry if you see streaks of butter -- and shape it into a disk. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least 1 hour. (Recipe can be doubled, storing extra disk in freezer for up to a month.)

Galette:
6 medium apples
2 Tbls. unsalted or salted butter, melted
4 Tbls. sugar

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Peel, core, and cut the apples into 1/2-inch (1.5-cm) slices. Lightly flour a work surface and roll out the dough into a circle about 14 inches (36 cm) in diameter. Transfer it to the prepared baking sheet.

Smear the frangipane over the dough, leaving a 2-inch (5-cm) border. Arrange the apple slices in concentric circles over the frangipane, or simply scatter them in an even layer. Fold the border of the dough over the apples and brush the crust with some of the melted butter, then lightly brush or dribble the rest of the butter over the apples. Sprinkle half of the sugar over the crust, and the remaining half over the apples. Bake the galette until the apples are tender and the crust has browned, about 1 hour. Slide the galette off the parchment paper and onto a wire rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Storage: The frangipane can be made up to a week in advance and refrigerated. The dough can be made up to 3 days in advance and refrigerated. The tart should be served the day it’s baked.

Crusted Squash Wedges

2011-10-05T22:11:00.001-05:00

Today we went to Papa's Pumpkin Patch, a fun family outing in Bismarck-Mandan with hay bale mazes, zip lines, slides, pony rides, a cute little train for kids and, yes, plenty of pumpkins for the pickin'. We go every year, but this year I was pleasantly surprised to walk in and see this:

Squash. I don't remember Papa's having anything other than pumpkins and maybe a few decorative crooknecks in years past. Maybe I can stretch my memory and recall a few butternuts in the mix, but then again, in years past I was a bit more preoccupied navigating the place with the infant version of Ben, trying to get a half-decent picture of my little one.

This time, while toddler Ben played happily with dad in the hay bale maze, I got a chance to pursue these gorgeous gourds and imagine the possibilities. Spaghetti squash, butternut squash, acorn squash, hubbard squash, even ones I hadn't heard of before like the red-and-green-splattered turban squash. Beauty.

In autumn, I think we can all agree that pumpkin is king. Jack-o-lanterns, pumpkin pie, pumpkin seeds, pumpkin cake. But in reality, when it comes to eating, pumpkin isn't the best of the bunch. I've read good things about sugar pumpkins, but they aren't easy to come by in these parts, where most use whole pumpkins exclusively for decoration. Plus, pumpkin is a pain to work with. I've tried many-a-time to process a pumpkin into pulp, and am sorry to say, I'll take a can of Libby's any day instead of going through that ordeal again.

But butternut squash, be still my heart, I declare butternut queen of the winter squashlings. That sweet, soft orange filling is something I wait all year to enjoy. I roast it, I puree it, I chop it and throw it into pasta or risotto, but whenever I work with it, shooting from the hip in the kitchen, it's always something rich in butter or cream and often sweetened with a hefty dose of brown sugar. This recipe was a refreshing change: olive oil, lemon and a ton of herbs coating the squash created an entirely different experience. And I'm guessing this would work pretty darn well with most of those other squash lovelies available at Papa's, too.

Crusted Squash Wedges
Adapted from Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi

1 and 1/2 lbs butternut squash (skin on)
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
3 Tbls dried white bread crumbs
6 Tbls. finely chopped parsley
2 tsp. finely chopped thyme
Grated zest of 1 lemon
2 garlic cloves, crushed and roughly chopped
Salt and pepper
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup sour cream
1 Tbls. chopped dill

Preheat over to 375 degress. Cut the squash into 1/2" thick slices and lay them flat on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

In a small bowl mix Parmesan, bread crumbs, parsley, thyme, lemon zest, garlic, a pinch of salt and some pepper.

Brush squash generously with olive oil and sprinkle with crust mix, covering thickly. Gently pat the mix down, but don't expect it to stick to the slices. Place the pan in the oven and roast 30 min or until tender. If the topping is getting too dark, cover loosely with tin foil during cooking.

Mix sour cream with dill and some salt and pepper. Serve wedges warm with sour cream on the side.

Classic Ginger Cookies

2011-09-29T21:50:00.000-05:00

Ginger. Sweaters. Tea. Cinnamon. Dry leaves. Crisp air. Apples. Pumpkins. Caramel. Red wine. Harvest. Baking. Hearths. Sage. Nesting.

I love this time of year. And I'm ready for it. I just purchased my annual splurge of heavy-duty face moisturizer to get me through the winter (this stuff, if you're curious). I pulled my sweaters and jackets out of a storage closet to get ready for another year of wear. The heavy comforter is already on the bed, although we haven't yet put on the flannel sheets. Even the garden is slowly getting cleaned up, lazy gardener that I am. Yes, I am ready for the cooler temps. Bring it.

With the chill of autumn, I've been a tea drinking fiend lately, brewing up a couple cups nearly every morning, enjoying the simple pleasure of holding the warm mug in my hands. In general, I don't usually nibble anything with my tea, but recently I had a ginger cookie craving - a chewy, warm, spiced ginger and molasses cookie. I found exactly the recipe I wanted in the classic red-and-white plaid Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook.

As a general rule, I use butter in cookie dough, but I stuck with Crisco here to make the cookies softer and chewier. The spice and sweetness level was perfect - reminded me of the spice cookies my grandma used to make. However, this recipe makes A LOT of ginger cookies. I bundled up some extras in little fall colored cellophane bags with a couple teabags of chai and wrote a quick "Happy Autumn" note on tree wrap paper. Ben got a lot of smiles as he handed our little cookie gifts to friends and neighbors.

Ben helped me make the cookies and served as the official taste tester, too. I thought he got his fill, but as I was snapping a couple photos for this blog post, suddenly a little marker-covered hand came into the frame.

I guess you could think of that as his official taste tester stamp of approval.

Classic Ginger Cookies
A perfect little baking project for a cool, grey fall day. Kids can help roll the dough in sugar - just watch so they don't nibble too much dough! Nothing worse than a cookie dough stomach ache.

4-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons ground ginger
2 teaspoons baking soda
1-1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1-1/2 cups shortening
2 cups sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup molasses
Additional sugar for rolling

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl stir together flour, ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves, and salt; set aside. In a large mixing bowl beat shortening with an electric mixer on low speed for 30 seconds. Add the 2 cups sugar. Beat until combined, scraping sides of bowl occasionally. Beat in eggs and molasses until combined. Beat in as much of the flour mixture as you can with the mixer. Stir in any remaining flour mixture.

Shape dough into 1-inch balls. Roll balls in sugar. Place 1-1/2 inches apart on an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 8 to 9 minutes or until bottoms are lightly browned and tops are puffed (do not overbake). Cool on cookie sheet 1 minute. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool. Makes about 120 small cookies.

Kale Chips

2011-09-21T20:00:00.001-05:00

Act I, Scene I

(Husband walks into kitchen. Wife is pulling kale leaves off stems.)

Husband: "What are you making?"

Wife: "Kale chips."

Husband: ".........................kale chips."

Wife: "Kale chips."

(Husband feigns a look of interest, nods, then exits kitchen to go putter in the garage.)

*END OF SCENE*

Wondering what to bring to that football tailgating party this weekend? Surprise your beer-guzzling, brat-eating friends with...kale chips!

Before you run away in horror, these suckers are addictive. No, they don't taste exactly like potato chips, but if you like kale and/or greens at all, and you like crispy snacks, you'll dig these. They remind me of Japanese cuisine - really light and delicate, fresh, a little salty. And I've been seeing them EVERYWHERE. Food Network Magazine has them in the October issue, as does another national food magazine I was flipping through at Barnes and Noble the other day. Then I saw them on Joy the Baker's blog and thought it was a sign, a perfect trifecta of indicators telling me I must make kale chips.

I had regular 'ol curly kale from my CSA share in the fridge, although you can use any kind of kale. I ripped the leaves off the stem, piled them on a rimmed baking sheet, drizzled them with olive oil and sprinkled Old Bay seasoning generously over it all. I did make a mistake here, though - by piling them up, the leaves at the bottom of the heap steamed rather than crisped up. Lesson learned - one layer of leaves at a time, please.

After about 15 minutes in the oven, I could definitely smell something cabbage-y. I opened the oven to stir them around and was surprised that some where already crisping up nicely, even browned. After a few more minutes, I pulled them out, gently laid them on a paper towel to cool and tried one. And then another. And then all the steamed bits. And then most of the crispy ones, vowing to make these again very soon.

Act I, Scene II

(Husband walks in from the garage. Wife removing kale chips from pan.)

Wife: "Hey, wanna try one of these?"

Husband: "Sure." (Takes a kale chips from wife's hand.) "Those are pretty good."

(Husband doesn't eat another one while wife continues to nibble happily.)

*END OF SCENE*

Kale Chips
Pull leaves off one bunch of kale and place on rimmed baking sheet with little overlap. Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with Old Bay seasoning (or salt and pepper or whatever you want, really) and bake at 400 degrees for 20-25 minutes or until crispy and browned, stirring once during cooking. Cool on paper towels. If you have any leftover, they should keep for a couple days in an airtight bag or container.

Maple Apple Bran Muffins

2011-09-21T06:00:00.000-05:00

Hellloooo autumn!

So lovely to see you again. Yes, come in, come in and stay awhile.

No, don't listen to those nay-sayers who talk up summer so much. You, my dear autumn, have so much to offer. The colors, the crisp air, the pure pleasure of pulling out the sweaters and cranking up the oven for fall baking. Don't tell the others, but I think you're my favorite season.

I know you hear people complain that you are just a reminder of the oncoming dreariness of winter, but those folks are missing the beauty of the moment, don't you think? And frankly, I don't see why there is such a huff about winter anyway. As we say around here, winter keeps the riff-raff out.

Oh, don't worry about that early frost last week. I covered the tomatoes and they made it through just fine, and now the apples on the tree out back are ready to eat. My little one loves to roam back to the garden and pull himself a snack from its branches.

Stay for awhile, won't you? You know you are always welcome in this house. I'm making a pot of tea and these muffins. The kitchen is warm from the oven and it smells divine.

Maple Apple Bran Muffins

Adapted from The Bread Bible by Beth Hensperger. I bought this cookbook in Portland, OR when I was convinced I was going to open a bakery someday and traveled there to explore great bakeries. The bakery biz 'twas not to be, but this book is still my go-to reference for great breads. Instead of lining the muffin tin with paper liners, try greasing the cups with butter (not cooking spray) - the butter creates a crispy edge to the muffins that I adore.

1 1/2 C buttermilk
2 eggs
4 Tbls melted unsalted butter
1/4 C canola oil
1/4 C maple syrup
1 1/2 C All Bran cereal
1 C peeled, chopped apple
1/4 C dried cranberries
1 C all-purpose flour
1/2 C wheat or oat bran flakes
1/4 C packed brown sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 C chopped or slivered almonds

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Grease 12-18 standard muffin cups (will vary depending on the size of the tins). In a large bowl with a whisk, combine buttermilk, eggs, butter, oil, maple syrup, and cereal. Add the apple and cranberries and let stand 10 minutes.

In a separate large bowl with a whisk, combine flour, bran flaks, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and almonds. Add dry ingredients to the wet mixture and stir with a large spoon until evenly moistened, no more that 20 strokes.

Spoon the batter into each greased muffin cup until just level with the top of the pan. Add a little bit of water to any empty cups. Bake 25 mins or until browned and the tops feel dry and springy. Cool muffins in the pan for 5 mins, then remove and cool completely on a cooling rack.

Our Favorite Grouse Recipe

2011-09-17T14:55:00.000-05:00

This is the grouse meal we wait all year for, the one My Dear One keeps saying "You know how you make that grouse? With the wine and stuff? That's my favorite ever." And I nod and smile at the compliment of my culinary prowess, even though I know in reality he says this because if he ever wants to eat the same meal again in this house of constant never-eat-the-same-thing-twice rotation, he needs to make a special point to say so.

Grouse season in our house goes something like this: hubby packs up the truck, kisses me goodbye, and heads out to the fields with his brother while I stay home with the two-year-old (very 1883 homesteader housewife, I know, sans six more kids). He then returns home with more stubble than usual, smelling of fresh air and sage, the coldness of the fall wafting in our warm kitchen with him when he walks in the door, that same chill sticking to his skin and embedded in his clothing. In the back of the pick-up sits our happily weary Springer and a cooler of dead birds, basking in blood-tinted water. He shares stories of the hunt while our child climbs into the back of the truck, excited to play "puppy" by caging himself in our portable dog kennel. With that scene, surely we must look like Parents of the Year to any passers-by.

Whatever he brings home from the hunt, whether it be birds or venison, we always try to enjoy some of it fresh instead of freezing it all right away. As he cleaned the birds, instead of just cutting out the breast meat, I asked for the whole birds (or at least as whole as is reasonable with these small winged creatures) and the hearts, too. We froze the hearts and a couple birds, and I prepared three fresh birds using, yes, Our Favorite Grouse Recipe.

But it doesn't stop there, oh no. After dinner, I had three perfectly good grouse carcasses left on the plate. Time to make stock.

I placed them in a pot along with an onion cut in half, a bay leaf, and some peppercorns, covered it all with water, and let it simmer for a couple hours, creating grouse stock. Then, after making the stock, I figured, what the hell, let's make soup. So I browned some Italian venison sausage, added the stock along with cubed potatoes, and let that simmer until the potatoes softened. Then I added some chopped kale, cooked a few minutes long, seasoned with salt and pepper to taste and voilá - homemade soup for dinner tomorrow.

PS - not quite sure what I'm going to do with those grouse hearts, but you know I'll keep you updated.

Grouse with Tomatoes and Rosemary
I've posted this before, with a few tweaks, but I figure it's worth revisiting. Serve it with crusty bread to soak up the juice.

3 or 4 grouse, cleaned
Kosher salt and freshly cracked pepper
3 Tbls olive oil
2 cloves minced garlic
1 small red onion, chopped
1 cup dry red wine
1 cup chicken broth
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
2 fresh tomatoes, diced
2 Tablespoons butter

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Rinse grouse, pat dry, season generously with salt and pepper. Heat oil in Dutch oven and brown the grouse (no need to cook through, just brown the outside). Add garlic and onion, saute for one minute. Add wine, broth, rosemary, and tomatoes, cover the pot, and place in the oven for 45 minutes, or until juices from bird run clear. Remove rosemary sprigs and discard. Remove grouse and set on platter (can put in 200 degree oven to keep warm). Bring the remaining liquid to a boil and reduce by half, about 15 minutes. Turn off heat, whisk in butter, and serve grouse drizzled with sauce.

Family

2011-09-08T19:56:00.000-05:00

This is what it's all about. Family gathered around a dinner table. Faces aglow in the candlelight. Sharing a meal, sharing stories. Laughter echoing into the evening.

Zucchini Pizza with Cherry Tomatoes and Feta

2011-09-04T21:15:00.000-05:00

My mother is begging, pleading with me to take more zucchini.

Are you sure you don't need any more?

"Yeah, pretty sure we're stocked up."

I already took a load of zucchini to the soup kitchen.

"Wonderful, I'm sure they appreciate that."

You know you can shred it up and make zucchini bread.

"Yes mom."

A bounty of fresh food, what a great problem to have. Add in the fact that I've been itching to make homemade pizza for awhile now, and zucchini pizza seemed like a natural fit.

Zucchini? On pizza?

Actually, as long as it meant I was taking a couple extra zucchini off her hands, I could've been making zucchini ice cream and my dear mom would nod her head in approval.

I love the idea of homemade pizza, like in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle where Barbara Kingsolver gathers her family together every Friday night for homemade pizza night. In her book, everyone happily pitches in the pizza making, for all I know they probably play Pictionary afterwards and all, including her teenage daughter, are pleased as punch about it. However, it's going to take some time for me to achieve family pizza bliss as honestly, I don't typically have much luck with homemade pizza. Either my crust is too soggy, or my toppings too heavy, or my dough too sticky, and I usually end up thinking I should've just saved myself the effort and called Papa John's instead. But eureka! I had some good luck with this one, and I have one lady to thank: Ms. Deborah Madison.

I picked up her book Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone at the public library book sale last fall. Since it's a hefty tome over 700 pages and as book sale customers pay by the pound (50 cents/lb for hardcover, $1.00/lb for paperback), it was a splurge...oh, who am I kidding, 50 cents/lb? The whole cookbook probably set me back $1.50. I can't even buy a cup of coffee for that anymore.

The cookbook sat unused, hibernating on my cookbook shelf, patiently waiting for its grand entrance. Winter past with our usual dinners of venison, pheasant, and other such meaty creatures that certainly I wouldn't find in the pages of a book titled Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. It wasn't a great reference for baking, either with only three, count 'em, three recipes the index under "chocolate." In comparison, chard gets 14.

But then, spring came and our CSA shares started coming in. What the heck am I going to do with all these beets and kale?

I pulled that hefty cookbook down from its shelf and it hasn't left my counter top all summer. Whatever vegetable I have just pulled out of my garden or received from my wonderful Riverbound Farm CSA share, I just flip to the index and find a dozen great ideas of what to do with it. It's my vegetable bible. Ms. Madison's recipes are simple with straight-forward ingredients that let the vegetable freshness shine through, always with delicious results. Olive oil and lemon juice make frequent appearances in her recipes, along with fresh herbs. Many of the flavors lean towards a European-palate rather than the Asian-inspired flavors that we see more of today (this cookbook was published in 1997, almost 15 years ago) and the photography inside feels dated, but the recipes are perfection and I appreciate the fact that I can find nearly every single ingredient at my local grocery store.

So back to the pizza. If anyone could help me make a decent zucchini pizza, I thought Deborah could. I whipped up her simple pizza dough recipe, set half aside for two pizzas today, put the other half in the freezer for two pizzas next week. I grabbed some yellow pear tomatoes out of my garden along with fresh basil, sliced up some of mom's zucchini, and got cookin'. I neglected to preheat my pizza stone in the oven, so my first pizza ended up with that dreaded soggy crust, but the second pizza on the hot stone? Perfection. All the flavors waltzed together on my taste buds, the crust was just the right amount of crispy, and I felt a twinge of satisfaction from finally winning a round in my ongoing pursuit of great homemade pizza.

Zucchini Pizza with Cherry Tomatoes and Feta

Pizza Dough

1 1/2 cups warm water
2 teaspoons active dry yeast
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 to 1 cup whole-wheat flour, to taste
3 to 3 1/2 cups flour

Pour 1/2 cup of the water into a mixing bowl, stir in the yeast, and set aside until foamy, about 10 minutes. Add the remaining water, olive oil, and salt, then beat in the whole wheat flour followed by enough white flour to form a shaggy dough. Turn it out onto the counter and knead until smooth, adding more flour as needed to keep it from sticking. For a crisp, light crust, pizza dough should be on the moist side, which means it will be slightly tacky.

Put the dough into an oiled bowl, turn it once to coat, then cover with a towel and set aside to rise until doubled in size, 40 to 60 minutes. Turn the dough onto the counter and divide into the number of pizzas you want. Shape each piece into a ball, set on a lightly floured counter, cover with a towel, and let rise for another 20 to 30 minutes.

The rest of the recipe, making one 10" pizza

1/4 recipe Pizza Dough (freeze the rest for future pizzas)
3 small-to-medium zucchini, thinly sliced into rounds
Olive oil for sautéing, plus extra virgin for the top
Salt and freshly milled pepper
4 ounces cherry tomatoes
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
4 basil leaves, torn or thinly sliced
2 ounces mozzarella, thinly sliced or diced
2 ounces feta or goat cheese, crumbled

Preheat the oven to 500F with the pizza stone or pan preheating in the oven as well.

Sauté the zucchini in 1 tablespoon olive oil in a skillet over medium heat until tender and beginning to color, about 4 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Slice the tomatoes into halves or quarters and toss them with the garlic, a little olive oil some pepper, and half the basil.

Roll or stretch the dough into a 10-inch circle, set it on a floured peel or pizza pan. Distribute the mozzarella and zucchini over the dough, then add the tomatoes. Bake on a stone or in the pan for 5 minutes, then add the feta cheese and bake for 3 minutes more or until crust is browned and cheese is bubbly. Remove, drizzle with little extra virgin olive oil, and sprinkle on the rest of the basil leaves.

Bruschetta

2011-08-25T21:58:00.000-05:00

We just got back from our summer vacation in Montana. We love Montana. Granted, we love North Dakota too, but we can't get that pine-scented air and cold, crystal clear mountain lakes out here on the plains. Staying with one of my best friends and her family in Whitefish, just outside of Glacier National Park, and knowing our favorite vacations are the ones without itineraries, we went with no agenda, no real plans, and had a real great time.

Kent got to practice his fly-fishing cast while Ben and I picked huckleberries. (ps - if you ever get out to Glacier, promise me you'll try a huckleberry milkshake. Seriously amazing.) We went for lots of walks, ate some great food, and enjoyed a few bottles of rioja with our hosts.

We travelled highways, mountain passes, and gravel roads and later headed down to Bozeman and Billings. We rode a big carousel in Missoula and ate the biggest snow cone EVER. We went to bed every night happily weary, slept like logs and woke up each morning refreshed and ready for another adventure.

Through it all, Ben was a trooper, having the occasional two-year-old tantrum when he was tired, but somehow we travelled 1,700 miles together and lived to tell the tale, thanks to fruit snacks, Bob the Builder, and afternoon naps. As a bonus, I'm developing a sixth sense for finding playgrounds in new towns. Maybe I can patent my new playground radar skill, perhaps develop some playground-GPS software. I've heard crazier ideas...

We love to travel, but it is always a joy to return home. In fact, we took an extra day of vacation just to be home and have the luxury of a stay-cation day. During our one-day mini-stay-cation, when we got hungry for dinner, we were tempted to go out for pizza, but I had a gorgeous loaf of rustic bread from the Bozeman co-op and a week's worth of tomatoes sitting out in the garden, waiting to be harvested. I plucked some tomatoes and basil, toasted the bread, poured a couple cold glasses of white wine, and made a 10-minute meal of bruschetta, eliciting the comment "This is way better than pizza" from my pizza-loving hubby. And with this simple meal, we enjoyed the last evening of summer vacation, savoring every last drop.

Bruschetta

Six slices rustic bread
1 clove of garlic
2-3 tomatoes, seeded if you wish, then chopped
Handful of kalamata olives, pitted and chopped
2-3 Tbls. fresh basil, roughly chopped
Extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Balsamic vinegar
Feta cheese

Mix tomatoes, olives, and basil in a bowl. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt, pepper, a splash of balsamic vinegar and a glug of olive oil. Stir and set aside.

To toast the bread, place slices on a baking sheet under the broiler, watching carefully until toasted (or you can grill the bread). Meanwhile, slice the garlic clove lengthwise. Remove hot bread from the oven and rub with the cut side of the garlic clove.

To serve, top toasted bread slices with tomato mixture (include some of the tomato juice), sprinkle with feta cheese, and drizzle with additional olive oil.

Jello Shots

2011-08-10T06:59:00.001-05:00

Yes, it's jello in a fruit rind. Aren't they cute? I brought these along to a picnic last weekend. Ben was at grandma's house and I was feeling giddy at the notion of spending a summer day hanging out exclusively with grown-ups. They're bright and cheerful with a subtle kick. Funny enough, that description perfectly describes my picnicking pals. Hey Jen and Stefani, what up?

Putting jello in a fruit rind freaks people out at first, but it's all in good fun. I made both orange and lemon jello slices and my fellow picnickers declared both good but lemon their favorite, thanks to the sour kick you get at the end by biting into the part close to the peel. Or maybe it was the booze talking. Guess I'll never know.

Jello Shots (for Grown-Ups)

As seen in the July/August issue of Food Network magazine, but I added the vodka. :)

2 oranges

4 lemons

2 boxes orange gelatin

2 boxes lemon gelatin

1 cup vodka

2 cups boiling water

Cut the fruits in half and carefully scoop out the pulp, leaving just the intact rind half that will serve as a gelatin bowl. Be careful not to dig too deep or hard to get the pulp out as you don't want to pierce the peel. Set the rinds in a muffin tin and set aside.

Starting with the orange gelatin, in a small saucepan mix the two boxes of orange gelatin with one cup of boiling water. Cook over medium heat for 2-3 minutes, then remove from heat and let cool slightly. Add 1/2 cup of vodka to the gelatin, stir, then pour into the orange rinds. Pop the muffin tin in the fridge as you prep the lemon gelatin. Rinse out the saucepan and repeat with the lemon gelatin. Refrigerate the filled rinds for at least 3 hours or overnight.

When you are ready to serve, take the rinds out of the fridge and cut them into wedges. You may need to trim the edges up a bit so they look even. Serve and let the fun begin.

Cherry Berry Pie

2011-08-07T17:59:00.000-05:00

Ever wanted free sour cherries? Here's all you gotta do:

1. Have neighbors that plant sour cherry bushes directly next to your property line.

2. Watch baby sour cherry bushes spring up on your side of the property line.

Yup, sour cherries spread, but we're not complaining. In fact, our neighbors pulled out their cherry bushes after awhile, and we just kept ours going, picking more and more fruit off of them every year. There was that one year when the birds absolutely attacked them and ate nearly every cherry off of them (along with most of our raspberries and strawberries), but this year, we had a bounty.

I made sour cherry jam, sour cherry and chocolate coffee cake, sour cherry popsicles, and yes, this sour cherry berry pie. However, it's not all rubies and sapphires in my cherry world as sour cherries are tedious to pit. I end up pitting them by hand, squeezing every single one to get the pit out and in the process spraying cherry juice EVERYWHERE. My kitchen and apron resemble a butcher shop more than a bakery by the time I'm done. If anyone knows a better way to pit sour cherries, I'm all ears, but since I want to retain the actual fruit fiber and not just juice the cherries, I haven't yet figured out a better way. When it's cherry pitting time, I just zone out and go zen about it. Focus on nothing but the cherry. Be the cherry.

But for me, the work is worth the reward. A pie made out of fruit entirely from my tiny backyard? I treasure every bite.

Cherry Berry Pie
Adapted from The Better Homes and Gardens Cook Book - yes, the classic red-and-white plaid cookbook. A fav - thanks, Amber, for the thoughtful cookbook gift!

Pastry for a double-crust pie (in my book, a homemade crust is worth every ounce of time and effort, but there's no shame in using the pre-made stuff if that's your preference)
3 cups pitted sour cherries
2 cups raspberries
1-1/4 cups sugar
3 tablespoons quick-cooking tapioca

In a large bowl, stir together sugar and tapioca; add fruit. Gently toss until coated and let stand about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, prepare your pie crust, lining a 9" pie plate with half the pastry.

Stir fruit and transfer to the pastry-lined pie plate. To do a lattice crust, roll out the other half of the pastry and cut into long strips. Lay the strips on the pie, weaving them over and under the other strips. Crimp edges and sprinkle top with sugar.

Place pie on a baking sheet and wrap edges with tin foil. Bake at 375 for 30 minutes; then remove the foil and bake and additional 25-30 mins more until the filling is bubbly and the pastry is golden. Cook on a wire rack next to an open window, a la June Cleaver style.