balsamic- glazed pork chops

Well, here we are at the end of the week. I'll try not to swear, but what a ...week. I'll spare you the details- let's just talk about food.
This is the last Gourmet Today recipe I've got for you. Then it's going back to the library. I'm not even renewing it.
I know it's confusing. Me with my Gourmet love and grief, not even giving it another few weeks?
I've got a few mild criticisms- nothing to convince you not to check it out of the library, really. If you must have the details, I love Gourmet first for the writing, then photos, then recipes. This book only has recipes, so it's not really filling the void that the December issue of Gourmet is creating. But really, I'm finding that I love cookbooks for the soul that I can smell and taste in the midst of the pages, and this one doesn't have much of that, mostly because it is a compilation of the recipes of so many different chefs, and I can't find the voice in there.
It's just becoming clear to me that this is the kind of cook I am. I am a cook who loves cookbooks that talk to me, invite me in, tell me a story, and feed me a few things. I know that I don't have tat much company in this, but I think that I would cook purely from food essays if I had the time to read all day long.
A friend of mine never measures anything- she doesn't use recipes except for when she opens the Joy of Cooking for an outline of what she is trying to create. We're all looking for something different to fill that special shelf in the kitchen, and luckily there are enough cookbooks to satiate us all.
Of course, Gourmet is always good for a recipe, and I think that this was the best one that I found this week. I made it earlier in the week with those red-wine-and-maple-glazed carrots. Another sweet and lovely recipe, but I do not suggest putting them together. I'm sure if I had told you about the meal in advance, one of you would have warned me, "No! Too much glaze in one meal! And we all love shallots, but not so many in one dinner! Please!"
But of course I went ahead and did it without consulting anyone. I'm learning. But make them separately, and you will be very happy.
These pork chops have unbelievable flavor. Seriously. They are fast, and fancy, and delicious, which of course is the best combination.


Balsamic-Glazed Pork Chops
from Gourmet Today

4 center cut pork loin chops (about 2 pounds total)
salt and freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
8 small shallots, peeled, leaving root ends intact, and quartered
2/3 cup balsamic vinegar
1 1/2 teaspoons sugar

Rinse the pork chops and pat them dry. Sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper.
Heat oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking. Cook pork, in 2 batches if necessary, with shallots, turning pork once and stirring shallots occasionally, until pork is browned and shallots are golden brown and tender, about 5 minutes. Transfer pork to a plate, leaving shallots in skillet.
Add vinegar (be careful, it will go wild for a moment), 1/2 teaspoon salt, sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon
pepper to skillet and cook, stirring, until sugar has dissolved and liquid has thickened slightly, about 1 minute. Reduce heat to moderate and return pork, along with any juices accumulated on plate, to skillet, turning 2 or 3 times to coat with sauce. Cook, turning once, until pork is just cooked through, about 3 minutes.
Transfer pork to a platter and boil sauce until thickened and syrupy, 1 to 2 minutes. Pour sauce over pork.

coffee for you

This is my Chemex coffee maker. I found it when I lived in Santa Fe and I proceeded to become a much more committed coffee drinker. It was just so pretty, and it makes a damn fine cup of coffee. Oddly enough, Chemex coffee makers are made about 15 miles from where I live now, in Pittsfield.
This lovely thing was invented in 1941 by a chemist in search of creating perfect coffee without any bitterness, scientifically. He made scientific coffee. And so do I.
I really like giving things away. When I was a kid, I used to regularly wrap up my crayons and give them to my mother just to feel the joy of giving them to her. I shove books and jam into people's hands as they leave my house- I'm a little compulsive.
I woke up today needing, NEEDING to give something to you. You've all been so great this week, with your encouraging words and recipe suggestions. I feel this amazing wall of support behind me- I don't even know how to thank you. But I can start to try.

Last year, Joey found a Chemex at a tag sale. For those of you who don't know him, Joey is a tag sale wizard. He comes home with the most astounding finds. But he found this chemex, brand new. I have no idea who would have let go of such a gem.
But I already have one, so I'm giving the new one away. It's the larger size, 8-10 cup, but you can make one cup in it if you like. I'll even thrown in some special chemex filters. I'll pack it up and send it out, and then you will make scientific, fancy coffee.
To be entered in this little giveaway, I ask only one thing. Leave a comment, and tell me how you feel about coffee, in LESS THAN FIVE WORDS. You have till the end of the weekend, and I'll announce the winner on Monday, so be sure to check back in then.
I'll start. How do I feel about coffee?

reason to get up.

Now your turn.

found it

Thank you for all of your advice and sympathies on my gingerbread search. I'm starting to think that a gingerbread cookbook might be in order. But for the moment, I am satiated. Yes, when I say I am determined, I'm not kidding. I have found it.

(I'm thinking that you won't mind if I offer you two gingerbread recipes in one week. It is November after all. In fact, if you were in my kitchen, I'd be offering you two kinds of gingerbread as we speak, and that wouldn't bother you either, would it?)

It should have been obvious. The answer was in the book on my night table. It took a friend in my kitchen to point it out to me.

"You've tried Laurie Colwin's recipe, right? I think that she even has two."

I should have known that Gourmet Today was not the place to find my gingerbread. My gingerbread has to come from someone's kitchen. Specifically, it seems, Laurie Colwin's kitchen. It seems that I am on the verge of becoming a fan site here, but you know how I am. Remember all of those Alice Waters recipes?

Ms. Colwin too, it seems, was once "on a quest for the perfect gingerbread." She claims (in More Home Cooking) that her quest "has not turned up any ultimates," but on this point I would beg to differ.
This gingerbread is velvet and cloud with a sexy amount of spice. Its outer boundary is a revelation. It is sweet and crusty, very similar to the crusted roof of a perfect creme brulee.

Laurie Colwin claims that where we go astray in our gingerbread creation is in our deep attachment to molasses. Luckily, I have no deep attachment to molasses. In fact, I'll throw it out the window if she asks me to.
What we use in this gingerbread is pure cane syrup, and the way that you will see this in the store is to keep your eyes peeled for this lovely and exotic bottle.

It is not so expensive, but I must warn you, you will use the entire bottle in one cake. It is called Lyle's Golden Syrup, and you will probably be able to find it in your grocery store, even if you have never seen it. Amazing what is there when you look for it, don't you think? I happened to have a little bit in my cabinet left over from lavender fleur de sel caramels last year, but of course I had to buy a whole new bottle, which is now, in fact, gone. You might as well buy a few bottles when you see it. You will want to make this gingerbread more than once.
I knew right away that this would be it. Just melting more than entire stick of butter with that whole bottle is a sensual experience.


You must refrain from painting your lover with the stuff. I think that this combination alone would be called something like golden butter syrup. Lovely.
The batter is so fragrant that it is a challenge not to drink it, and I added my own obsession to the recipe and let those pear slices grace the top of the batter as it rose around them. It was ideal, absolutely ideal.
Don't put anything on top of this. No ice cream. No creme fraiche. It is an independent agent, this marvelous cake.


Damp Gingerbread (with pears)
from Delia Smith's Book of Cakes, and then from Laurie Colwin's More Home Cooking, and then messed with by me

9 tablespoons butter (1 stick plus 1 tablespoon)
1 1/2 cups (1 bottle) Lyle's Golden Syrup
2 cups plus 2 tablespoons all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 tablespoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 beaten egg
1 cup buttermilk
3 firm pears, peeled, cored, and cut into eight slices apiece

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch round tin and line the bottom with parchment.
Melt the butter together with the golden syrup.
Sift together into a medium bowl the flour, salt, baking soda, ginger, cloves and cinnamon, Whisk to be sure that it is evenly blended.
Pour the syrup and butter onto the dry ingredients and mix well.
Add the egg and the buttermilk. Beat well. The batter will be very liquid. Do not fear.
Pour the batter into the tin. It will nearly reach the top of the pan. Arrange the pears on top of the batter. Bake for 50 to 55 minutes, or until the middle is just set, and the edge is pulling away from the pan.

how to get your kids to eat vegetables

Oh, I've got your attention now, right?

Maybe there are a few of you whose kids will eat everything. Good for you. In fact, I used to be one of you. When Sadie was little, we would tell her that we were having kale for dessert, and she was thrilled.

Maybe it was the birth of my second, pickier child. Was she born with crazy taste buds? Was the breast milk just too delicious? She instantly emerged as a white food only kind of girl. Somehow, it rubbed off on Sadie too. Now my children do not eat vegetables.
Or at least not as many as would ease my parental anxieties.

I get this question a lot. Perhaps I'm giving you the idea over here that I have this one figured out, but I don't. If I did, I imagine I'd be supporting my family and filling the non-existing college funds on my wise food writing. Wouldn't you pay money for that?
However, because I think about food nonstop, I do have a bit that I can share. I'm not a big parenting advice giver on principle, but I have a few things that have helped us over here, and if they can help ease the anxieties of some poor parent out there or get a child to eat a broccoli floret, then we are all better off.

So here we go...

1. Eat good food yourself. I know this might be a no brainer, but I think that it bears repeating. I worked for several years as a homeschooling tutor, and many parents came to me to help their children with Math. Nine times out of ten, they would say to me, in front of their children, "I hate Math. I always have. And I'm no good at it." Once the kids heard their parents say those words, it was very difficult to recover. The same goes for food. If you eat greens with gusto every night for five years, I'd bet you an apple pie that it will make an impression. And it will be good for you, too.


2. Grow vegetables. My kids will eat things that they grew that they will not touch from the store. Rosie has an intense hatred for carrots, but she will pull up and eat an entire bed of them in twenty minutes if allowed. She doesn't even get the dirt off first. Even if you don't have a yard, you can start a little container garden and let your kids graze from it.

3. Let your kids prepare their own food. This one is hard for me (I'm a little, um, controlling in the kitchen), but it really works in my house. The kids will eat anything they make, and they usually want to use as many ingredients as I put in front of them. This is the sure fire way to get the girls to eat salad in my house, even if there might be some odd things in it.


4. Take your kids to the Farmers Market. Let them pick out the vegetables. Maybe you'll get to try something new yourself, and give them credit when you cook it.

5. Sneak in the vegetables. There are many cookbooks devoted to this topic, and I know many parents who swear by this. I once had a pretty good sweet potato cinnamon bun, so there you go.

6. Bribe with Dessert. Controversial, yes. But effective. I save this one for moments when my "my children are going to get rickets" anxiety is at its peak.

7. Don't make something else for dinner for your kids. They will eventually get hungry enough to eat what you've made. If you feel like you are starving your children with this method, send them to the fruit bowl to help themselves.

8. You know those twenty minutes before dinner is ready? When your kids are SO HUNGRY MOM, and you keep saying, "5 minutes. Did you put the napkins on the table?" and they say "I can't, I'm SO HUNGRY MOM." Well, put the veggies on the table then, and let them go to town. I often find that I'm unnecessarily holding to the thought that this will spoil their appetite. I think "spoiling the appetite" is ridiculous if you're talking about good food. If they want to eat three pounds of green beans before dinner because they are SO HUNGRY, that's okay with me. You can put the veggies that you made for dinner out early, or you can just throw them a bowl of carrot sticks. You will be amazed.


9. This is the most important. Should I say that again? THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT.
Relax. RELAX. I'm going to venture into my general thoughts on parenting here... forgive me- like I said, I try to make a habit of not giving advice. But this is what we work on over here.
Your children will be okay. No child died from lack of vegetables, at least not recently. In my experience, the most effective tactic is to put no pressure on the situation, and to keep your wits about you. I'm pretty sure that Rosie went nearly a year without a green vegetable, and a few months ago, we were over at my Mother's house, and she helped herself to an entire plate of kale. There was hardly any left for anyone else, but we let her go for it, quietly. We said nothing. We went about our dinner as she cleaned her plate. Joey couldn't stop kicking me under the table, but hopefully she didn't notice.
The more I relax, the less anxiety I send their way, the better those girls seem to do. They have pretty strong internal compasses, and I have to trust that they will take what they need, even if it is a year's worth of noodles. They will be okay.

I think that's all I've got for now. But if you have more thoughts on this, I'd love it if you'd join in. I could always use more ideas myself, and I'm guessing I'm not alone.

pear gingerbread upside-down cake

A mother of a student of mine once made gingerbread with pears neatly pressed into the top. It was extraordinary. It was years ago, but in the last few weeks I've been obsessing on that gingerbread.

I will make that gingerbread.



Yes, I could call that mom, but that would be too easy. I've been pouring over pear gingerbread recipes, and I know I'm going to find it.
What am I looking for? A stickiness in the pears- more ginger than molasses, moist but not gooey.
Since it is Gourmet Today week, I thought I should start there. And obligingly, it offers us a pear gingerbread upside down cake.
I'm afraid of upside-down cakes. I'm a right-side-up cake kind of girl. I always lose part of the top, and I have to press it back in and try not to cry.
There was so much butter on the top of this cake that I thought it might be okay, but I lost a big chunk in the right-side-upping. Never fear, though. The pears are so gooey that they will press right back in without tears.


This is not the cake that I am looking for. I'm telling you about it anyway because it might be the cake you are looking for. Are you looking for more molasses than ginger? More sticky than cake-y? The satisfaction of baking a cake in a skillet? This one is for you. In fact, I've got a whole cake here if you'd like a piece. I'll make you a cup of tea, and you can tell me about you're favorite gingerbread recipe. I'm serious if you're nearby. I have cake for you.
Oh gingerbread, I'm not done with you yet. I've got six more pears, and lot's more recipes. Be ready, friends. I'm taking you along on this odyssey.

Pear Gingerbread Upside-down Cake
adapted from Gourmet Today

For the topping:
3 firm pears, preferably Bosc
1/2 stick unsalted butter
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar

For the cake:
2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup molasses
1 1/4 cup boiling water
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1 large egg. lightly beaten

Make the topping:
Peel, halve, and core pears. Cut each pear into 4 wedges.
Heat butter in a well seasoned 10 or 12 inch skillet over moderate heat until foam subsides. Reduce heat to low, sprinkle brown sugar over butter, and cook, undisturbed, for 3 minutes. Arrange pears decoratively over sugar and cook, undisturbed for 2 minutes. Remove from heat.
Make the cake:
Put a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk together the flour, baking soda, spices and salt in a bowl. Whisk together the molasses and boiling water in a bowl or large measuring cup.
Beat together butter, brown sugar and egg in a large bowl with an electric mixer at a medium speed until creamy, about 2 minutes. Reduce speed to low and add flour mixture alternately with molasses in 3 batches, beginning and ending with flour and mixing until smooth.
Pour batter over pears in skillet, spreading it evenly but trying not to disturb pears. Bake until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean, 40 to 50 minutes. Cool cake in skillet on a rack for 5 minutes.
Run a thin knife around sides of skillet, invert a large plate with a lip over skillet, and, using pot holders to hod skillet and plate tightly together, invert cake onto plate. Replace any pears that stuck to skillet. Serve warm or at room temperature, with ice cream or creme fraiche.

red-wine-and-maple- glazed carrots

I am feeling a little bit sarcastic about the new Gourmet cookbook. I really don't know why, but I keep making snarky comments to myself about it. I've heard that when one is seeing a therapist for a long time, you can tell that it's time to stop when you start getting mad at them. It's a separation thing. I'm breaking up with Gourmet before it can break up with me. Maybe I am protecting my fragile heart.
Because I know how ridiculous this is, I will be cooking out of Gourmet Today this week. Also, I have it from the library, and it's due this weekend. I order most of my cookbooks from the library, and when I've paid as much in overdue fines as the cookbook costs, I take that as a sign that I'd like to own it. It works out well for the library, and what's good for the library is good for us all.

That's Sadie standing on her special "complain about Mommy's cooking stool." Those are some pretty fabulous pork chops which I'll tell you about soon. (Oh, come on, you understand- I'm writing one post a day! I can't give you two recipes at once! Not this month at least...)
Sadie's checking out these red-wine-and-maple-glazed carrots. Yes, those hyphens are all part of the original recipe. Withholding snark. She's telling me that I'm going to set off the smoke alarm, which is probable, and that it looks like there are worms in the carrots.
"No honey, those are shallots."
"What are shallots?"
"Shallots are shallots. Shallots are delicious. Go play with Rosie."
I can't say that shallots are like onions, or like garlic, because they will get nixed. And they're not really. I hold to my definition that shallots are... delicious.
"That looks like blood. What is that?!!!"
"That is wine."
"I can't have wine!"
"Sure you can. When it's cooking with carrots. Go play with Rosie."
"RosieEEEEE! Come see the worms in blood!"
Argh.

I recommend these carrots. I was putting them on a trial run for Thanksgiving and they passed the test. Sweet and fancy, easy and a little bit intense. Better with mild meat I think, like turkey for example. Let me know what you think. As long as you don't think the shallots look like worms. I've had enough of that, missy.

Red-Wine-and-Maple-Glazed Carrots
from Gourmet Today

3 Tablespoons unsalted butter
3/4 cup thinly sliced shallots
1 teaspoon chili powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
2 pounds carrots, peeled, and cut diagonally into 3 inch pieces
1 cup dry red wine
1/4 cup pure maple syrup
2 teaspoons cider vinegar
2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill (I have to admit- I left this out. I think it would be great, but my dill is dead and gone.)

Heat butter in a 12-inch heavy skillet over moderate heat until foam subsides. Add shallots and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 4 minutes. Add chili powder, salt and pepper and cook, stirring, until very fragrant, about one minute. Add carrots, wine, and maple syrup, bring to a simmer, and cook, covered, stirring occasionally, until carrots are tender, about 20 minutes.
Add vinegar and boil, uncovered, until liquid is reduced to a glaze, 3 to 5 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in dill.

butter-toasted oatmeal with sticky apple topping

My grandmother held to a few very strong superstitions. I'm not sure why- it didn't really make sense with her personality. But two of her superstitious maxims have clung to me, no matter how hard I try to shake them. The first is that you should never EVER sleep with your feet towards the door of a room. She would always say that that was the way you would leave the room on your last day, so you better not tempt it. I try to tell myself that I don't hold to this, but really, between you and me, I have been known to shift a bed to the diagonal in the middle of the night because her warnings are keeping me a little bit awake.
The second one is a bit lighter in nature. She would always say that if you could keep the peel whole as you skinned an entire apple, that was just about the luckiest thing that could happen to you in the kitchen.

This morning I dragged my still sick but getting better self out of bed to make something exciting for breakfast. Sadie's wheat free-ness always puts a challenge on the fancy Sunday breakfast choices, so when I saw this lovely oatmeal in the new Gourmet cookbook, I decided this would be just the thing.

Yes, we eat a fair amount of oatmeal around here, always steel cut oats, and always in the slow cooker. It works, and it keeps everyone going, but it's not exciting, and it's certainly not fancy Sunday material.
Oh, ho, except this one uses... ready for this?...just a tad short of an entire stick of butter for four servings. I actually threw in that last tablespoon of butter out of laziness, and I think we all were better for it. So a stick, a stick of butter! De-licious.
I knew that I was making the right recipe, because even though it was 7:30 on a Sunday morning and I hadn't had a sip of coffee yet, I got the entire peel of that first Mutsu apple off in one piece. Those Mutsus are big apples, and I figure this is extra lucky.
Before I give you the recipe, I must admit one more thing. The recipe calls for half-and-half, but I had none. What I did have, however, was some of Paul's raw cream from this week. I don't think this can even be classified as heavy cream. It goes into some other territory- let's just call it heaven.


But you go on ahead and use half-and half. This will still be the best damn oatmeal you've ever had.


Butter-Toasted Oatmeal with Sticky Apple Topping
from Gourmet Today
serves 4

For the oatmeal:
2 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup steel cut oats
4 1/2 cups boiling water
1/4 teaspoon salt

For the topping:
1/2 stick unsalted butter (or throw in that last chunk if you're lazy)
2 Gala or Fuji apples (I used Mutsu), peeled, cored, and cut lengthwise into 1/4 inch-thick slices
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup half and half (or heaven if you can get your hands on it)

Make the oatmeal:
Heat butter in a 3-quart heavy saucepan over moderate heat until foam subsides. Add oats and cook, stirring, until oats are pale golden and have a nutty fragrance, about 4 minutes. Carefully add boiling water and salt and boil, stirring occasionally, until oats swell and oatmeal thickens slightly, about 10 minutes. Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until oatmeal is soft and thickened, about 20 to 30 minutes. Keep it low and check on it often- you don't want to burn the bottom.
Meanwhile, make the topping:
Melt butter in a heavy skillet over moderately high heat. Add apples and cook, stirring occasionally, until they begin to brown. Reduce heat to moderate, add brown sugar and salt, and cook, stirring gently, until sugar is melted. Simmer topping until apples are very tender and almost translucent, about 15 minutes. Stir in half-and half and simmer until thickened, about 5 minutes.
Serve the topping over the oatmeal.