snow

Eight years ago on this very day, Joey and I got dressed to the nines, and we had a little party.  There was lasagna and crusty bread, and somehow people we love made it across the snowy country to join in the fun.  That year there was snow, so much snow that most of the United States called it a day and went to bed.   Joey's dad was turned away at the airport, so he rented a car and drove from Denver to Salt Lake City in the blizzarding white.  He made it just in time.
        We were there in my grandfather's house, when my grandfather was still alive, and he was so happy--usually he would be so worried about his floors and his couches and his everything, but he sat back with a glass of hot cider, repeating every few minutes, "your friends!"   Our friends went into the woods and shook snow off of pine branches so they could decorate the house.  We didn't have flowers, but they filled the house with green needl-y wonderful smelling branches.  And there weren't tables, but there were candles, and everyone else was dressed to the nines, too.  It was a good looking bunch.
         As for me, I was a bit like a snowball, all dressed in low-cut white with my belly expanding before me.   Sadie was there too, nestled in my belly under the silk dress.

 I'm pleased to discover that I like getting older.  I like time passing.  I like surprises.

 I made a special dinner tonight while the girls put their underwear on their heads and danced in the kitchen.  Braised leg of lamb, flageolets, buttered cabbage.  Creamy and custardy dessert.  It had been a rough day with them--pent up inside, they've gotten to that point in the vacation when everything is boring and Sadie wishes she were an only child.  Joey let them go on PBS kids in the other room, and we set the table together.  We were having friends over to help us eat all that lamb, and we lit candles and folded napkins.  We were alone in the kitchen, and so we sat down and had a drink together.  It was as close to a date as we were going to get, and we take them where we can get them.
It was a fantastic date.
I wait for this all to get old and practiced, to feel like routine.  But I still look at Joey, and I think, "Really?  I get to do this?  With him?"  It's new still.  But we're slowly getting better at it, and while that night 8 years ago it all seemed like a good idea, I'm not sure that I believed marriage could work--for anyone, really. There just were very few examples that I could see.  And still, I know it's hard.  And it's work.  But we're learning how.  And still, I get to do this?  With him?
One year at a time.  Here's to another one, with more everything.

one more cookie

 

Wednesday was the girls' last day of school for the year. It was one of those days that tend to come at this time--there was family sharing where the girls got to show me lessons in their classrooms, then we came home at noon with Sadie's best friend in the center seat.  There was a solstice party at five, and the every hour between those was filled with bouncing girls and carrot sticks and sisters not sharing and seven-year-old girl drama and festivity throughout.  I needed to get a certain amount of book work done, and so I sat upstairs with my computer and my huge pile of first draft, and every time a question was hollered up the stairs, I just let go a "sure!" without actually listening.  By 3:30, I had to abandon the pile of paper to go pull something together for the party, and so I walked into the remnants of the girl tornado, got out the nail polish remover to reverse some of the damage on the girls' skin, and I opened up the new Gourmet Cookie Book.

My aunt gave me this book for my birthday a few weeks ago, and every few days since I've been flipping through it like a Taschen art book.  If you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend--it's just a classy and beautiful book.  The book has each "best" cookie recipe for every year since the 40's, and they weave together world events and cookie recipes in a story both through the words and the images.  It's hard to open the book at any moment and not abandon the current activity that one might be involved in in favor of pulling out the mixing bowls and measuring cups.  I had resisted up to this point, and now it was time to give in.

The truth is, I've made so few recipes in the last months that have been separate from recipe testing for the book, that when I embarked on these little ginger shortbread cookies, I felt like I was taking off from the world and getting a pedicure.  I chose it first because it is egg free and Sadie could be sure to have a treat at the party, but also because I just kept opening to it.  It was like that game when you ask the bible or the dictionary or some other big and important book and question, and the open page answers you.  I asked, "what do I need?" And the book kept answering "Skibo Castle Ginger Crunch".  It seemed like a good answer, and quick to put together, and so there I was with butter in hand.

When the three girls learned that I was making cookies, they got quiet, and respectful, and they pushed their hair behind their ears with their excessively nail polished fingers and walked around the kitchen like little Zen Buddhist nuns in quiet meditation.  I put on the the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, and baked to the light of the tiny Dr. Seuss Christmas tree in the corner, and by 4:00, it was dark out.  The day calmed into the night, and I was thinking about Christmas and baking and cookies and why those all go together, and about how people must want to bake so much during the holiday because it creates quiet and space in its own little way.  The world gets crazier at the same time that it is supposed to slow down, and somehow by preheating the oven and then setting the timer we say, "wait, hold on, in twenty minutes the cookies will be ready, and then I'll be back with you."  And then there are cookies to give, and that of course, is another good other reason to bake cookies.

 I know that by the time your reading this it's already Christmas, or even after it, but I want to tell you about this cookie anyway.  It was so fabulous, light and gingery with so much crisp, and it would make a good new year's cookie or any day in the winter when you might need that little bit of cookie baking.  It's one of those cookies that doesn't seem like it will hold up and work and keep together, but trust me, it will.  And I hope that today, whatever and where ever you are celebrating (even if it's just saturday!) is a good day, a warm and restful one with the exact combination of elements that you hope for.  

Happy holidays, friends.  Have a cookie, eh?

Skibo Castle Ginger Crunch

from The Gourmet Cookie Book

for the shortbread:

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

3 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces

for the topping:

3/4 stick unsalted butter

1 tablespoon Lyle's Golden Syrup

1 cup confectioners' sugar

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, and grease a 9x13 metal pan (it's okay to go a little smaller than this too, if that's what you have).  

Sift together the dry ingredients for the shortbread and blend in the butter with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse meal.  Press evenly into the base of the pan.  It will be dry, and thin, but it will all work out--don't worry.  Bake until golden, 20-25 minutes.  

A few minutes before the shortbread is done, melt the butter in a small saucepan.  Whisk in the other topping ingredients until smooth.  Bring to a boil, and then simmer while stirring for 30 seconds.  Remove the shortbread from the oven and pour the topping over it, tilting the pan to get an even coverage.  Cool the pan on a rack for at least 2 hours, then cut into 64 squares in the pan.

pierogi

 

I have an aunt who had quite a hand in raising me through my teens.  It seems that there is a rift in every family, and that's the rift in mine.  So there is this part of my family, out in California, and that's the part that taught me about pierogi.  

I'm Polish way back, but Polish Jewish, and although yes the Jews seem to make pierogi too, it seems that those pillowy lovely dumplings are more the soul food of the Polish Catholics.  My aunt--that one in California--she's the only Polish Catholic in my family, and it was she who first guided my hand at the Safeway in San Francisco to the top shelf in the freezer section.  Honestly I had no idea what she was after, but then she had out with it.

"We're going to need some Mrs. T's."

My aunt is a pretty good cook, but she always seemed happy to let others do the work when they could do it better.  We took those Mrs. T's home and fried them with onions in butter, and pierogi became one of those foods that I search out and love.  The fact that there are dumplings in nearly every culture really speaks to the fact that they are a perfect food.  Ravioli, pot stickers,  empanadas, steamed buns; these are the foods that can soothe us in any language.

It's been ten years since the day that our family split apart, and I haven't been to Northern California since.  I won't go into details, at least not now, but I'm guessing that you might have some story in your family that helps you to fill in the holes.  Amazing how many of those nasty family fights seems to happen at the holidays, don't you think?

When I married Joey, he reminded me of Mrs. T's, and I was once again reaching for the bag on the freezer shelf in the supermarket.  Then he started teaching, and his holidays as a preschool teacher brought so many handmade wonderful treats. There were stunning little snowflake ornaments, glittery pine cones, hand dipped candles.  Then there were the edibles--sugar cookies and little bags of candy and sweet little jars of loose tea.  What teachers lack for in salary, they make up for in love and the absolute best holiday gifts.   And when his little tiny student Felicia brought him a sealed ziplock bag with a bow on it, he could not believe his luck.

Handmade pierogi.

Felicia's mother Marya has been making pierogi with the women in her family since she was tiny.  The path to perfect dough is in her blood, and her daughters pronounce the word with absolute correctness.  As she taught us how to roll the circles and fill them to bursting without bursting, Felicia couldn't wait, and she kept asking, "Mama, when can I have pierogi?"

 And so we rolled and shaped, and like last year when Marya and Felicia came over to teach us how to make butter lambs, I felt like I was being let in on a very very precious secret.

I am such a mishmosh of traditions, but I love a good one, a real one, a tradition that has not so much been like a game of telephone, but that really has been passed down because there is no need for it to change.  The women in Marya's family have been teaching other people to make pierogi forever, and this was the first time that Marya had taught someone outside of her family on her own.  We were so honored to be the first.

And you are the second.

Pierogi

makes about 50

for the dough:
3 eggs
1 cup warm water
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 teaspoon salt
4 cups all purpose flour

for the filling:
3 pounds farmer's cheese
1/2 cup potato flakes
1/2 cup sugar
white pepper

(yes, of course you can fill them with anything you like! but this is the basic filling, so start here)

Make the filling:
Combine the cheese, potato flakes, sugar and white pepper.  Using an ice cream scoop, scoop balls of about 1 1/2 tablespoons of filling, making ready made balls of filling.  Lay them on a plate or baking sheet.  Refrigerate for at least an hour, or overnight.


Make the dough:
Beat together the water, oil, salt and eggs.  Scoop the flour into a large mixing bowl, and make a well in the flour.  Pour in the wet ingredients and mix with a spoon, then your hands, until the dough is uniform and comes away from the sides of the bowl.  It should be moldable and soft--you can add a bit of flour or water if it doesn't feel this way.  Put the ball of dough under a glass bowl and let it rest until you can see condensation on the bowl, about 15 minutes.

Divide the dough into three sections.  Roll out the first section on a floured counter. Roll to about 1/4 inch, then flip the dough and roll again.  Flip one more time, roll it one more time, and then cut circles in the dough with a 3-inch glass or biscuit cutter. Any remaining dough can get pushed back together and put under the glass bowl to rest again for another 15 minutes.

Fill the pierogi:
Pick up one circle of dough and place a scoop of filling in the center of it.  With your finger over the filling, stretch the dough around it.   

 

Seal the edges together.  

And crimp like a pie crust.  Make sure that there are no holes or spaces in the seam.

Lay the finished pierogi on a lightly floured plate.
Repeat until you are out of dough and filling.

Meanwhile, get a large pot of water going at a low boil.  Spin the water with a spoon, and gently slide the pierogi into the water.  You want them to have plenty of room, so cook in a few batches.  Cook for about 7 minutes, or until the pierogi are floating and a bit puffed up.

Transfer to a bowl of cool water.  At this point you can eat them, you can fry them--anything you like.  To store them, lay out on lint-free towels to dry for a few minutes.  If you want to refrigerate them, toss in a bit of melted butter, and transfer to ziplock bags.  They'll be good for up to five days.
If you'd like to freeze them, you have two options:  lay the pierogi out on baking trays and freeze.  Transfer to freezer bags.  OR toss with a bit of clarified butter (Marya swears that it prevents ice crystals) and transfer to freezer bags.  From the freezer, they can go directly into the frying pan, microwave or oven.  Or they can go to your child's teacher and make him very, very happy.

to whet the appetite

Oh, man.
I've been running like a race car this week, and I'm needing an oil change.  I'm taking a little break this weekend--I'm hopping in my car to find me some very cold ocean to gaze at, but I wanted to give you just a little bit of the post that will come your way when I get back, just so you know what to put on your shopping list.
Marya came by last weekend to teach me my yearly new Polish tradition, and this one might even top the last one.  So here's the hint.  Make sure you have flour.  And cheese.  And egg.  And that should be fine, although cabbage is also an option, too.
Oh yeah.

Till next week then.  Hope the weekend is slow and you never get out of your slippers.

the gift of the year

I love to give calendars.
It's just that they're so useful, and the gift lasts the whole year, and the right calendar?  It can be the most beautiful art in the house.

I've been noticing more and more calendars that just blow me away with their beauty--I could fill a whole room with all of these different artists' ways of illustrating months and shaping boxes for every day.  I like a little art in my schedule.

I have a new friend this year (always the sign of a good year!), and she shares my love for the calendar.  Kari Chapin just wrote this fabulous book, and she's the woman to have on your side while you are perusing etsy for a lovely this or that.  I'm also lucky enough to have her as the prop stylist for my book, and yes, of course, she's fabulous at that too.  But the first time she walked into my kitchen, one of the first things she said was, "Oh!  Nikki McClure!" and that of course sparked our first ever conversation about calenders.  We cut it short, but it was clear that we had more to say.

And so I asked Kari if she might have a little calendar chat with me right here.  Because I thought that it was slightly possible that you might still be looking for gifts for those who need a calendar for artistic or organization inspiration, or you just don't have your own calendar picked out, you might be interested in listening in.  We've been chatting back and forth all week, and now there are even more calendars that I want.

Beware.  That might happen to you too.  Don't say I didn't warn you.  So here it is word for word. Me, and Kari, and calendars.


Alana:
Where to begin?  Searching calendars on etsy has convinced me that I should just fill a whole wall with calendars this year...so many beautiful ways to mark the days!  But how about we start with the sweet lady  who introduced us in the first place, Laurie Coyle.  This year's calendar is all veggie watercolors, and I find the marrow shape of it  especially pleasing. Although it's painful to be yearning for asparagus in December...



http://www.etsy.com/listing/62284638/eat-more-veg-2011-calendar?ref=em

Kari:
Laurie's calendar is a favorite over here at Chixon Headquarters. My husband Eric keeps one in his office and we usually have one in our kitchen too. Bravo Laurie! There are so many great calendars out there, that it's hard for me to narrow it down to just one or two. When I was a a young woman, and just out on my own, my favorite holiday gift each year was a calendar from my home. She would carefully go through all of the months and write all of our families important dates in it for me. So sweet! For 2011, I have a few spaces in my life where I'll need a cute calendar and I'm liking this one, by local artist Sarah Ahearn quite a bit - I like that it comes with a clipboard that you can use again and again. Plus, I think pinning all the months up at once would be very beautiful.


 http://www.etsy.com/listing/63125577/2-0-1-1-calendar

Alana:
Love the clipboard, and Sarah's art is beautiful.  I think we all need a little more collage in our lives to inspire some cutting a gluesticking--the girls have taken to making their own calendars for all of our family schedules, and we've been pasting them all over the wall.  There's just something so lovely but days and art put together- I think it might even change the way I approach my week when I see it all laid out that way.

Our friends Luke and India have brought us this calender two years in a row.  Their friend Kim makes it, and I think that it's outstandingly classy.  The first year, they gave us her hawks and bunnies calender (alternating months) and this past year it was illustrations of songwriters and their lyrics.  It's printed on satisfying paper, and it comes with two little hooks to mount it on the wall:



//thewildunknown.com/calendars.html


Kari:
Wow. That one is really beautiful! I love handmade calendars so much! Can you imagine all of the work that entails? Full disclosure on my next favorite calendar, I know the family that makes them quite well. The ffrench family, from your neck of the woods, has made these silkscreen calendars for years by hand. I love the whole story behind them too. Each member of the family is responsible for drawing at least one month of the year. Their birthdays and special days are all marked by unusual shapes throughout the year. True story about the ffrench Family calender: I was talking with a woman once about these calendars and she told me that she had every single one. For years she wondered what to do with them, until she finally settled on wallpapering her bathroom with the images. I saw a photos the room and it was the most beautiful bathroom I have ever seen.



http://www.etsy.com/listing/58238387/2011-dolphin-studio-calendar?ref=v1_other_2

Alana:
I love the Dolphin Studio calendar... I feel like I've grown up with it all around me even though I've never had one in my own house.  I'd love to see all those images together!
My next calender is from one of my friends too--a few years back, my friend Molly handprinted a calender as a holiday gift for people in her life lucky enough to get one.  Joey and I were among the fortunate few, and for the whole year we had this incredible art on our wall.  Now she and her husband Aurel have made a new calendar for public consumption, and this one comes with a frame to put the present month's page in.  The entire calendar is  hand screenprinted in their little basement studio in Monterey, MA. 

http://www.etsy.com/listing/63833380/2011-silk-screened-calendar

Kari:
Wowzers! Molly's calendar is beautiful. I had never been to her Etsy shop before, and I love her cards too! And her clothes are just as incredible. Lets see, I do have one other calendar I could share with you. And while I am not exactly an "owl" person myself, my sister is and I was pleased as punch to find this really unique calendar for her. This woman, Shivani has got some amazing artists to all contribute images, and it's up to the buyer to design the calendar they most want! The best part is, you can download it yourself and simply print it out. Do you like it? I'd love to see more of these types of things out in the world.



http://www.myowlbarn.com/p/owl-lover-2011-calendar.html

Alana:

I love it!  And Joey has a bit of an owl thing, so that one is definitely making it's way here.  The concept is so great, too.

Well, we could go on and on.  But let's finish with Nicki...the calender that is always guaranteed to hang in my kitchen.  I just got the new one, and it's going to be a great year.

http://www.buyolympia.com/q/Item=nikki11

32

When I was little, I remember birthdays being a bit emotionally complicated.  There was expectation, and sugar, and all sorts of other things thrown in.  A birthday wasn't complete without tears.

Things are different now.  Now there is coffee, and it always comes in bed, and there are cards that say, "I love you MOM!" and other people cook for me--and do the dishes too.  I love being a grownup.

This is the thing.  Every year is better than the last.  Every year. 

Joey took these pictures.  I haven't actually gotten out of bed yet--But I have eaten two scones with butter and blackberry jam, and a big cup of coffee.  There are crumbs in my sheets. 

I see no reason to keep the day for myself.  Why don't you take a piece too?  And I think to celebrate, you should have scones in bed.  And coffee.  Slip your special someone this recipe...and they'll be out in a jiff.


Scones
from Amy Cotler, The Secret Garden Cookbook

2 cups flour, plus extra for dusting
2 tablspoons sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces
2/3 cup milk

for the glaze:
milk
2 tablespoons sugar


Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.  Whisk the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt together in a mixing bowl.  Mix the butter in with your hands, until it is rubbed into the flour.  Add the milk and mix gently with your hands until it is just starting to come together.  Turn the dough out on a lightly floured surface and knead just a few times until it holds together in a ball. Pat the dough into a disc about 1/2 inch thick.  Cut into 12 wedges, and transfer to an ungreased baking sheet.  Brush the tops with milk-- then sprinkle with sugar.

Bake until just starting to brown, 10-12 minutes. Serve immediately.

pasta with lemon, sardines and capers

How's the cookie making going over there?   Maybe some candy happening on your counter? Dipping something in chocolate?  Caramel in your hair?
Good.  Good.  I'm glad it's all coming together. And if it's not, it will, it will.  And if it doesn't, it's okay!  We'll all forgive you--we've got enough sweets anyway. Put your feet up and watch an old episode of Buffy or something.  You deserve it.
This is the time for all of that sweet inspiration--the internet is filled with cookies that will amaze and astound you.  There are whole magazines on the news stand right now devoted entirely to the marriage of butter and sugar and flour, and then of course there's that new book I've had on request form the library for a while now.  It is a blogger's responsibility to fill the month of December with giftable and sendable sweet inspiration, and I take that responsibility seriously.
Except that I have some idea about what might really be going on over there.  Maybe you are on top of your holiday baking and gifting, and you've knocked out 400 fleur de sel caramels today.  Or maybe your days have just been filled with all of that stuff that December seems to be filled with--parent teacher conferences and holiday parties and days when it takes really long to get places because no one knows how to drive in the snow.  Whatever you did, I'm guessing it kept you busy, and now it's 5:30, and what the hell is for dinner? 
How about some pastry ends and left over cream cheese frosting?
I wouldn't recommend it.
We need some decent dinner ideas, and we need them fast.
I was talking to my friend Meg last week on the phone.  Life's been a little crazy for her lately, and a little more stressful, and she's been having a bit of a time getting dinner out.  We were talking about those fabulous things that involve ingredients that we almost always have, that are cheap and take 20 minutes and are so delicious that everyone is so excited that it's that night, you know the night you didn't have time to make something else.
You know I'm talking about carbonara.  And I said so to Meg, like well at least there's carbonara, and
said, yeah there's definitely carbonara, and then of course there's pasta with lemon, sardines and capers, which is cheaper and faster and really truly only uses one pot.  And I said, yeah, totally, like I knew just what she was talking about, like I had eaten it a million times.
I was just going with the flow of the conversation.  But afterwards I started thinking, and it kept repeating over in my head...pasta with lemon, sardines and capers.
That's right, PASTA WITH LEMON, SARDINES AND CAPERS.
How come I've never thought of this?

 

For days, I thought about it--it was in the back of my head like a little song, repeating over and over in a rhythm of ease and craving and dinner planning.  Pasta with lemon, sardines and capers, pasta with lemon, sardines, and capers.  And then it was dinner.

PASTA WITH LEMON, SARDINES AND CAPERS!

It's possible that I've lost you with the sardines--I know it can happen.  But if that's the case, let me push a little on this one.  Do you really not like sardines?  Or are you confusing them with anchovies?  Or do you just think you don't like sardines?  This would be a time to look deep inside yourself and  get some answers.

Because I'm offering you a dinner plan here, and it can be ready by six.  I think it's in your best interest to give it a try.  Because I bet you have a jar of capers in your fridge.  And a lemon too.  And maybe, just maybe, there's a tin of sardines in your pantry that your cousin from France left when he was visiting last summer. 

I've always thought of sardines in the context of a sandwich.  When I was a teenager I was handed my first sardine sandwich on white bread with butter and I never looked back. But this?  This takes it to a whole new level.  Besides being so so tasty, sardines are high in omega 3's, low in mercury, and inexpensive to buy.  In this age of dangerous fish eating, it's a good idea to stay small--sardines and anchovies and smelts and those fish that are low on the food chain are your best bet.  And on white bread with butter? Hoo-ray.  And on pasta?  I'm adding an exclamation point.  Hoo-ray!

PASTA WITH LEMON, SARDINES AND CAPERS!

(with thanks to Meg)

1 pound fetuccine, spaghetti, or some other long and skinny pasta

2 tins sardines (about 8 ounces), can be in water or olive oil

juice of one big lemon

1/4 cup capers

olive oil

salt and pepper

optional: 2 tablespoons fresh chopped rosemary

Cook the pasta as usual.  Drain, and toss with sardines, lemon juice, capers, rosemary if you're using it, a few good glugs of olive oil, and a flurrying of salt and pepper.  Taste, and either adjust the seasonings or keep on eating.  Dinner is served.

teaching cheese

'

I don't think I'll ever be an expert on anything.

I got an award at my college graduation which was explained to me as the "thanks-for-asking-the questions-that-other-people-are-afraid-to-ask-in-class" award.  That's right, being the person who doesn't understand things and admits it is my super power.  Everyone's got to have one, I guess, and I'm just a perpetual amateur.

I know I know, and here I am giving all this recipe advice.

Joey and I were talking a little ways back about blogs, and about various kinds of advice and this seeming age of amateurs.  There are a whole lot of ways to put one's two cents in these days, and boy do we use them.  No longer is it the case that we can know that someone is for real just because their words are in print--Looking online for recipe help we have Alton Brown and Martha Stewart.  But we also have some housewife over in Montana who is really good at cookies, or that man in Maine who started a blog about fermentation.  And those resources so often offer us a whole different kind of help.  Yes, we can find our recipe, but we also see how it was made in a kitchen that might be a lot like ours--how long this recipe takes when there are two kids begging for snacks the whole time, or what went wrong and how it was all salvaged.  It's all more like being in a friend's kitchen and cooking together, and this can really be a good thing.

Of course the whole amateur thing has a flip side too.  But I assume if you hang out online here and there or even more, you've done a bit of thinking on this maybe?

So when I said I would teach a cheese class as part of a series of events to raise money for the girls' school, my first addendum to the offer was--but I'm still learning too.

Because yes, I am relatively personable.  I'm a good shoulder to cry on when you're cookies don't come out right, and if you need to figure out what to do with the celeriac, I could give you ten ideas.  But I'm no pro.

Last night our friend Hedley came over and cooked us dinner.  It was an amazing feast: salmon chowder, latkes with dill fromage blanc and horseradish fromage blanc and apple sauce, and roasted brussels sprouts and salad and there was enough food to feed us ten times over.  It was pretty amazing.  And most of all I got to do my favorite thing, which is to sit on my couch and watch a friend cook, and I was struck as I often am when I'm cooking with Hedley--I really need to improve my knife skills.  She learned how to cook in restaurant kitchens, and there she is surrounded by her mise en place, and of course it all works, and it all works quickly.  She's a fantastic cook--she doesn't overload her food with too many contrasting flavors like is so often the case, and this salmon soup was so good, just dill and a perfect balance of salt and pepper.  We joked about how my cooking show is going to be called "screw the mise en place (you know you don't do it anyway)"  but I'll get better, I swear, and I promise I'll keep working on my onion chopping and my mise en place-ing.  

And when it comes to cheese, I've been keeping my education going.  I started way back with ricotta, and the separation of curds and whey just got a little addictive, and I had to keep going from there. I finally got over to the cheese queen's kitchen this fall, and  I'm sure that hard cheeses are somewhere in my future, but right now I'm content with cultures and soft cheeses draining in my sink, and what's even more addictive than the curds and whey themselves is the look on people's faces when they watch it happen, when they feel the rennet thickening the milk.  And so the thought of twelve of those very faces in my kitchen won me over.  But because I am not a pro, the curds are not always predictable for me.  Really that's seems to be the case even for pros, because that's just the nature of cheesemaking, but I don't always know why the curds aren't curding or the cheese isn't stretching and that's the difference between them and me.  And of course, as the course grew nearer, the curds were especially not predictable, and so I teamed up with my friend Janet and we tried to figure out what was happening.   

And we did.  It was a heat thing--it's always a heat thing.

And so, when those twelve people were gathered around my stove, and I was cutting curd and saying a prayer to whichever God seems to be looking out for me, it all worked.  The curds were perfect, and they stretched like they were born to do it.  And Joey made pizza on crust that I had made the day before, and we used pizza sauce that I had canned in August, and hopefully people went home with some inspiration and sense of how to make cheese, and I thought, not so bad for a couple of amateurs!

But it's a tricky one, that fine line.  What makes an amateur into a pro?  Is it money?  Or is it their ability to do something so well that they can make it work with their eyes closed?  Or maybe school is what makes it happen?  I don't know...but when Joey and I were having that conversation, we pinned the fact that so many of us amateurs are useful because on the whole we tend to be especially enthusiastic.  And all the skills in the world won't help if someone doesn't walk away from an interaction inspired to go and try that thing themselves.  

I was once told to do what I love for free, and then do something else for money.  "That way you'll keep loving it," was how it was explained to me.  I'm not so sure what the answer really is, but I like that the internet is full of so many people sharing what they love. And I like it even more that most people don't pretend to know more than they do, that somehow we're all in here learning together, and that's it's okay, even a good thing to be constantly learning and not quite the master of anything.  I guess it's more about sharing than teaching.  

I don't know if I'll ever get to mastery of all of this, but I'm curious to know how that works.  Do you feel like you're a pro at what you do?  At what you love?  Are they different?  And how does that process work for you?  

Just a little something to chew on... and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the subject if you're inspired to share them.

carrot salad

I've got the blahs tonight. A little bit grumpy, grumpy about being grumpy, you know how it goes.  The girls were home with me today because it was parent conferences and we went down to town, and we walked from town hall to the hardware store and held hands and every three steps we all jumped into the air together.  That was the best part of my day and it was pretty great. 
But sometimes a mood sticks, and I just have to wait it out.  And for now I feel blah, and maybe one of the reasons why is that all I have to tell you about is carrot salad.
It's not that it isn't good--it is!  My friends Jen and Pete gave us a whole cooler full of carrots, and it's been carrots for lunch and dinner and sometimes for breakfast too. And of course it's stew time, and carrots are plenty useful, but it turns out that carrot salad is my favorite thing to do when the carrots are this good. I've never been a carrot stick kind of girl, and it's a shame to cook something so imbibed with earthly perfection.

Sadie told me that tomorrow is National Cookie Baking Day, and I'm taking her word for it.  I'm guessing we'll have exciting things to talk about then.  Who knows what she'll pick?  Right now she's waffling between pistachio shortbread, walnut crescents, and ruggala.  All fine options, I'd say.

But tonight, it's carrot salad for you.  Good for your eyes, and your soul.  And easy peasy.
Grab a handful of carrots.  Peel them if you like.  Grate them in your cuisinart or do a dance with your box grater if you prefer.  Whip up a little dressing in a measuring cup of olive oil, red wine vinegar, lemon juice, salt and pepper.  Add a squeeze of orange of you've got it.  Keep mixing and adjusting until it tastes good to you.  Go out into the cold night and grope around for some half frozen parsley.  Chop that, toss with carrots and dressing.  Eat.  Leftovers will be good tomorrow too.  To eat with your cookies.

Happy Friday friends.