Attractively lively and animated, bubbling with enthusiasm and exuberance which flow effortlessly from an endless natural spring within the heart of the vivacious person, this is vivacità.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Divine Aroma

On Sunday, the house smelled divine for almost three hours over this....

I didn't take any pictures of the finished product. This is London Broil, cooked with my fresh rosemary, sage, and oregano, plus onions, garlic, beef stock, and red wine. After snapping this picture, I simmered this lovely food for almost three hours.

Served with roasted Gold Yukon potatoes herbed with parsley, plus cantaloupe and blueberries, fresh-picked garden greens, and a lovely sauce made from pan drippings this meal served to family and a friend was savored unphotographed.

And thoroughly enjoyed with happy conversation, smiles, and satisfaction.

I LOVE to cook.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Bouef or Beef

Today I discovered the downside to progressing as an amateur chef.

For 30 years Tom has loved my beef stew. When the beef and onions browned he'd get a whiff and enter the kitchen. Garlic hitting the oil in the pan would set him to kissing and hugging me. Fresh herb perfume made waiting for the meal torture. It's been one of his favorite dishes for three decades.

Then, a few months ago, I made Julia Child's Bouef Bourguinon. Bouef Bourguinon is the stew that is served by angels in Heaven, I'm pretty sure of that. It's divine. Yes, yes it is.....

...long pause while I stop to recall the aroma, the flavor, the texture.....sigh....

Okay, back to today. As I prepared my good ol' stew the usual wonderful fragrance wafted as the meat browned and gave off its flavor. From outside where he and Joe were working on a car, Tom entered the kitchen gleefully looking into the steaming pot. "Oh boy! This smells great!" Kiss. Hug around the waist. Back to the pot.

And here is the killer line: "Is this Bouef Bourguinon?" Long pause as he sniffs and smiles. "Or just stew?"

Or. Just. Stew.


Hmmmm.

I answered, "It's just stew," but my tone let him know a major faux pas had occurred in Tommy Land.

Still I laughed. It's good to know my improving skills create exuberant responses. I wouldn't want to be boring nor would I want my cooking to be same-old, same-old for Tom's and my entire Marriage Journey.

Tonight, it's just beef stew.

With wine added as a tribute to Julia.

I'll call it Bouef Stew.

Why not?

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Kindred

From his heart he said to me, "Food is art, I am inspired by it. In it I find expression."

"Yes. YES!" I said, nearly dropping my little cup of water there in the crowded, noisy reception area.

I wanted to kiss him on his smooth cheek. That would have been awkward.

Instead I smiled and enthusiastically shared my understanding of his sentiments.

It was enough.

Hope in the next generation.

Thrilled by the discovery of another person who understands food and its preparation to be more than mere fuel but life and beauty.

Heartening indeed.

Still smiling this afternoon as I realize that neither of us sipped the foamy, pink 'punch' nor stabbed at paper-plated, sickly-sweet, store-bought cake.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Roasted Chicken and Salad


This chicken had its backbone and thigh bones cut out. Garlic, rosemary, thyme, and sage were stuffed into the cavity and placed here and there. An oil massage came next. Lime was squirted over all. Salt, smokey paprika, and pepper cracked on top. Red potatoes boiled for eight minutes and fluffed in the pan nestled beside the bird. All was cooked tented in foil at 450º for 20 minutes, then 450º untented for 25 min. more. The meat was juicy and perfectly cooked. The potatoes crispy with caramelization on the outside, fluffy within.


Nothing like a fresh salad to balance out seasoned poultry and red potatoes. The dressing is simply extra virgin olive oil with a bit of honey-balsamic vinegar and a little kosher salt. Poured over the salad it lightly coated the crispy veggies and offered exciting flavor.

An easy family meal that satisfies and carries leftovers for tomorrow's lunch box.

Mangi!

Saturday, June 5, 2010

200 Flavors of Old Fashioned Soda Pop







We didn't try 200 hundred flavors of Old Fashioned Soda Pop in the Seaside ice cream parlour but we sampled three. Mmmmm. Normally my family and I avoid soda of any kind but we were on vacation, we were curious, and the beverages were top quality.

Sometimes you just roll with life and don't ask questions.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Girl Getaway

Daughters and I relaxed a long way from home over Memorial Day weekend. Loving Tom blessed our leave-taking knowing we were about to collapse from a too-hectic triple of months. Not wanting to eat out as we desired good food whose ingredients were known we cooked our meals inside our suite. On our last night we gathered together what we had on hand and made this meal.


Salad with Tomato/Cucumber/Orange/Scallion Vinaigrette. Lemon Garlic Chicken with Asparagus and a Blueberry Reduction. We'd been eating blueberries and cream for breakfast and had a large amount leftover, thus the reduction which added a remarkably wonderful flavor to the chicken. The asparagus was locally grown brought from home and also in abundance in our hotel suite. For lemon flavoring we used Newman's Own Lemonade that was needing to be consumed. The chicken we bought at the beach along with the garlic bulb and chocolate. What fun to put it all together!


Sparkling cider for our beverage and Green and Black's chocolate eaten for dessert later on while we watched surfers from our balcony.

We barely talked on the trip from valley to shore. Even our first day was surprisingly quiet for us. Our minds were just over-full. It happens, especially this time of year. Graduation, testing, guests guests and more guests, redecorating, parties, school, work, aging parents, flat tires, rain that will not quit.

But after four days of beautiful food, fresh sea air, walks on the sand, and playing along the Boardwalk we found our Vitality Restored.

Perfect Girl Getaway!

Thursday, May 27, 2010

White Chocolate Almond Cake

Took a crack at a glorified pound cake recipe. No leavening save for eggs. Cream cheese and finely chopped white chocolate set it apart. Very moist, very sweet. Very good - in small doses.




It never ceases to amaze me the brilliance one can create in a kitchen with ordinary ingredients and a little know-how!

Monday, May 24, 2010

Bouncing Bologna

Carefully Tom selects not-too-firm kiwi. He places them gently into a plastic bag, gives it a mild spin, and sets it in the hard, cold shopping cart. Same thoughtfulness with the bananas, the apples, the broccoli, the garlic, potatoes, and strawberries.

The egg carton is opened for inspection - twelve orbs, unbroken. Perfect.

Dates checked on dairy products.

Stooping for a closer look we study fresh, free-range meat behind the butcher's window selecting the choicest cuts. The kind butcher neatly wraps them and hands them over the display case with a smile.

Labels on oils are studied, cheeses sampled, even the chocolate is examined for rogue ingredients.

This is shopping for Tom and me at the farmers' market and our favorite specialty stores.

Then, to Winco we go. The big grocery store where we buy staples and household supplies is Saturday-crowded. Ridiculously over-sized shopping carts block aisles as people check lists, scold fussy children, plop bags of sugared cereals into carts already heaped with processed foods. Stunned was I to see a package of cheap bologna flung across my path from the refrigerated lunchmeat section to a cart where it literally bounced a couple of times before it quieted. The shopper crossed it from her list. Her husband, leaning on the cart, began to move again, her child continued spastically jumping, white sucker-stick protruding from red-sugared lips.


Sure, there were other conscientious shoppers in the market places, people better at selecting foods than Tom and I. Those people inspire and encourage.

It dawned on me right about the time I saw the bologna bouncing that treatment of groceries reflects general attitude toward food. This dawning was affirmed at the checkout stand where I appreciatively bagged my groceries in my reusable bags (I actually remembered to carry a few in with me!). I stood across from a woman who seemed a bit furious at her food. She was throwing her items into white, plastic, bags. No exaggeration. Not setting them hard, not dropping them, but throwing them. Processed foods, vegetables, everything. She snatched her bags and walked wearily from the store.

I felt sad for her. Something was not right and I wished I could make her feel better. A kind, understanding smile awaited her if only she'd look up. Life is sometimes really hard. This I know.

Refined, overly-processed foods as the bulk of a diet can cause aggression, this has been proven. Beautiful, natural foods calm, invigorate, encourage robust health. Proven. Naturally I wondered if my fellow-shopper's irritation could have been food-induced.

I used to be a bologna bouncer, I did. I didn't enjoy cooking or food as much as I do now that I treat my food with joyful hands. My perspective is completely different these days. It's reflected in the recipes I prepare, my shopping list, and even where and how I shop.

It sounds snooty, I know, to talk of specialty stores, of reusable bags, and the shock of bouncing lunch meat. But it's not really snobbishness, it's a newfound humility. I have harmed my body, I have mistreated God's creation in my shopping choices, and I've addicted my children to sugar. Thankfully, the kids are wise and keep their addiction in check - most of the time.

Would that all the world could eat well for awhile and come to know the difference. It's not currently possible, this I realize. But is is possible for me and mine. We eat with gratitude. We think of those less fortunate and pray for them. We allow their trials to temper our Western food-misuse and misunderstanding of the purpose of food. We learn from their quiet struggle, from their genuine appreciation for every meal that they are able to put before their loved ones. While they wrestle with too little we wrestle with too much. There must be a balance in effect. Perhaps someday we will all have enough beautiful, real food and we'll look back on these days with thankfulness for lessons learned.

Until then, I will continue my quest to educate through example the joy of eating real food while remembering gratitude for these good years.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Gwyneth and Me

When I find my creative juices drying up I click on over to Goop.com, Gwyneth Paltrow's website. I love her ideas, her freshness, energy, and spunk.

I just finished a seven minute video of Gwyneth preparing a lovely Roasted Chicken and Potatoes dinner for her family.

I particularly love how she describes the relaxation she finds in thinking about food and ingredients. That's me, too. My daughter, Cassie, is the same way. Lying in bed at night dreaming up new dishes with ingredients we've just met or have befriended years ago.

I hope you'll take the time to head over to Gwyneth's sight. It has something for everyone as it's not just about food but about living.

Ciao!

Thursday, May 13, 2010

From the Quieter Place

In cooking sometimes too much technical training can get in the way. Too often we cook with our heads. There's too much noise in our heads. We must learn to cook - and live - from the quieter place, the place deep inside.

Each food prepared is a gift to our guests. The food becomes a part of them. It contains our spirit, in a way, and that's why we must see the meals we make as expressions of pure love. Gifts from the heart.

The Italians say, "You never age at the dinner table. When it comes to food, nothing is rushed."

Tradition in Italy is to stop for the mid-day meal, to light candles, play sweet music, to joyfully prepare, serve, and enjoy good foods and beverages together with loved ones and friends. This stopping of life's busyness for food clearly demonstrates priority of health, joy, relationship.

Imagine if we, in the United States, adopted that perspective? How much more enjoyable would our jobs be whether we work in our homes or are employed elsewhere. To rest, to share, to eat. To then resume work with laughter and beautiful food in our bellies, kindness in our minds, joy on our lips.

To move this way, suddenly life is not lived only on or for the weekends. Every day is full of life! Each day an adventure, a recreation, an opportunity to show our love.

From the quieter place.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Such a Tart

Cassie made a Blackberry Tart using mascarpone which is an Italian cream cheese with very unique flavor, and Vino Santo (holy wine) a style of Italian dessert wine.


Using a brush every berry was drizzled with delicious sauce.


Mint leaves for garnish.


Upon the very first taste...


...my taste buds were born again!

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Agave - 'Honey Water'


Agave nectar comes from the Blue Agave plant in Mexico. It's very similar to a cactus, but is called a Dragon Lily. While agave (pronounced ah-GAH-vay) is best recognized as the plant from which tequila is made, it has also been used for thousands of years as an ingredient in food. The nectar made from the plant is known in Mexico as aguamiel, or "honey water."

The Aztecs prized the agave as a gift from the gods and used the liquid from its core to flavor foods and drinks.

Agave nectar (sometimes called agave syrup) is most often produced from the Blue Agaves that thrive in the volcanic soils of Southern Mexico. Agaves are large, spikey plants that resemble cactus or yuccas in both form and habitat, but they are actually succulents similar to the familiar Aloe Vera.

If you have blood sugar issues, or want to avoid issues in the future or just want to live a healthier lifestyle agave nectar is a friend. Blue agave contains healthy bacteria in the form of inulins which are naturally occurring oligosaccharides that are healthy for your digestive system.

It's true that volcanic agave nectar contains close to the same calories per tablespoon as sugar (45) but because it is so sweet to your palate, you can use less. In fact, you can use about 1/3 cup of agave nectar to each cup of sugar thus reducing your caloric intake.

Because agave breaks down fats easier it improves the functioning of the gall bladder. It also helps remove the blockages in arteries associated with high cholesterol levels.

I use a swirl of this syrup on my homemade yogurt in the morning or evening. A colorful, long, shallow dish filled with yogurt drizzled with a long twist of agave (instead of the traditional honey) gives your guests the feel of Greece or Italy. Simple! This southwestern nectar is perfect on hot cereal and in tea. Sometimes a drop is squirted onto my fingertip for a taste of sweet when a sweet tooth complains. I also use it instead of brown sugar to sweeten my homemade granola before I bake it. I've used it in bread baking, replacing honey and molasses, and in other baked goods.

I love it! And it's good for me.

Agave. A beautiful food.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Pizza from the Heart


So many pizza commercials on television! The craving began. Though hungry and out running errands, still, my sanity prevailed. I knew the ingredients for a satisfying pizza pie were in my cupboards and fridge at home.



Cassie made a crust.

I simmered up fresh marinara, browned chicken with garlic, chopped some thin asparagus, and chunked some fresh, soft mozzarella cheese.

Caroline prepped a pan, preheated the oven, and helped assemble.

In less than 45 minutes, start to finish, we had a hot pizza and, man, was it good. MUCH better than any pizzeria in the vicinity.

Patience. Oh, so worth it.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Slow Succession - One Italian Woman's Breakfasting

Our countrymen could learn much from cultures far away. Such as how to eat. By this I mean what is eaten and how it is eaten.

My husband snarfs. He dishes his food up at the table as though he is the only one present. Then he eats quickly as though in a race, head down start to finish. Inadequate chewing then gulping. He says he thinks it's because when he was a kid - an only child - he had to hurry to get his share and then get out of there before the parents began to rag on him. Trouble is, he can't stop eating that way now.

Oh, he tries now and then. It's painful to watch. He sets down his fork, tries to chew more, to recognize flavors, enjoy the food. It's like observing a dog who's been told to sit and stay when he knows there's a chunk of sausage waiting to be devoured. Poor man nearly trembles. I give him kudos for trying, though. I have high hopes that he'll figure it out one day. In the meantime it's very hard for me to eat the way I prefer - slowly and mindfully - while he's noisily slurping, shoveling, and stuffing his cheeks in his race to the finish line.

An Italian blogger describes her breakfast manner in the following. It resonates with me.

I am not a breakfast person: when I get up, the first thing I crave is something hot and liquid, which translates into a cup of black tea, followed by another cup of black tea, followed, an hour or so later, by a cup of coffee made using my stovetop coffee maker. It is not until mid-morning that I turn my attention to something solid and that something has been, for more years than I can remember, una mela (an apple).
Una mela al giorno leva il medico di torno (an apple a day keeps the doctor away), you may remind me. The reason for my breakfast choice, however, is really my lifelong love for apples. It is certainly a great bonus that apples are good for my health. What has changed in the years is my favorite kind: that spot has been occupied for some time by the Mutsu apple. This time of the year it is not available in the stores, so I am currently breakfasting mostly with a Pinova apple and sometimes with a Golden Delicious. Just yesterday, I purchased some Ambrosia apples but have not yet tasted one.
So, here is the recipe for my apple-based breakfast. Take an organic apple of your liking and wash it carefully. Bite into it and savor the juicy morsel in your mouth. Chew slowly and concentrate on the texture and flavor. Repeat until you are left with just the core. Place it in your compost bin. Wait a few minutes, enjoying the apple's aftertaste, then cut yourself a small piece of excellent quality extra dark chocolate (at least 70% cocoa content) and break it into 2-3 morsels. Eat them in slow succession, savoring each one by letting it melt slowly in your mouth. Feel good.
 Above excerpt taken from the blog Briciole


Imagine if everyone could eat just one meal a day with such ease, patience, attention, and enjoyment.

The world would surely become a kinder place.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Breaking Bread

"You live in an amazing country and so do I. You've put a man on the moon. Right now in time is a moment when we're all confused about how brilliant we are and how technically advanced we are and that is fighting with what once made our countries great which is family, community, being together, and something honestly as simple as putting a few ingredients together and sitting your family and your friends and yourself and your girlfriend and your mother-in-law around that table and breaking bread. If you think that's not important then shame on you." ~~ Jamie Oliver
This week Tom and I took the girls to the Lorane Valley, a portion of the Willamette Valley's wine country.

Our first stop was Silvan Ridge where, after exploring the Old World style compound we gathered around a wooden patio table and broke bread, surrounded by acres and acres of newly budding grape vines.

Up the neighboring hill we drove, after our lovely meal, to our next destination Sweet Cheeks. There we enjoyed the magnificent hilltop vineyard view as well as dessert from home and wine tasting. Sweet Cheeks makes marvelous wine!

Meandering further along we came upon King Estates with its over one thousand acres of grapes, fruit tree orchards, herb and vegetable gardens all surrounding an impressive chateau which includes the winery and restaurant.

With temperatures in the low 70's the fragrance of blossoms, spring grasses, and rich soil was more intoxicating than the wine.

To share leisurely meals and treats with these precious people under a pale blue sky, amidst the liveliness of food growing up from the earth invigorated me. Walking among acres of vines carefully manicured for the best possible result rooted me to what is real and that is life. All life. But mostly human beings.

Jamie's quote above settles and strengthens my heart. The confusion between achievement and being is alarming. What makes a country great is her people. The same holds true for a community, and a family. While it is important that we work and create - that we 'do' - far more important is who we are and that is cultivated through sharing life's experiences with one another. Listening. Pondering. Laughing. Observing. Giving. Taking the time to know one another, to trust one another, to grow individually and together.

What better way to enrich ourselves than at the table with family and friends, a few simple ingredients put together, gratefully received?

"If you think that's not important, then shame on you."

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Providing Joy

"In combining beauty with comfort and liveliness, the Italians are able to provide the joy in life which their conquerors in the past, no less than their friends and visitors at all times, have found unfailingly irresistible." ~~ from Italia: the Art of Living Italian Style, by Edmund Howard
Italia calls to many of us in our over-worked, under-enjoyed west. Her laid-back attitude about life as compared to our industrial, achievement-oriented culture, her love of all things beautiful as compared to our love of all things efficient, utilitarian, and easy, her spontaneity as compared to our appointment-driven compulsion to 'get the most out of every minute,' her liveliness and comfort combined with beauty as opposed to America's love affair with mediocrity. Yes, Italia's Spirit woos me.

Yesterday Cassie and Caroline hosted a St. Patrick's Day Party for several of their friends. They could have dumped some salty chips into a bowl, poured some M&M's into another dish, boiled some hot dogs and called it good.

But they didn't.

Instead they thoughtfully planned.

Irish food? Corned Beef hash, Irish Soda Bread, Lamb Stew, all good but not quite right. "Potatoes. Don't the Irish love potatoes?"

"Yes."

Fifteen large russet baker potatoes carefully washed, nicked of blemishes, kosher salted, and tightly wrapped in foil baked at 375 degrees for two hours. The house smelled fantastic! While the tubers roasted we three women grated fresh cheese, cooked up superior bacon, unwrapped creamy fresh local butter, and plopped local sour cream into pretty red bowls. The first chives of spring were appreciatively harvested, chopped, and slid into a tiny pink dish. Organic carrots were stick-cut and set to chill. Fruit was delicately washed, cut, drizzled with honey and pineapple juice. Crystal kosher salt was poured into a Japanese tea cup with a shiny, tiny spoon, and peppercorns placed next to it in a crystal grinder.

The table was set with green and gold cloths, pretty plates, green baskets, pretty plants in colorful pots, and a tall green, tapered candle surrounded by freshly cut purple-blossoming rosemary and pink heather. Bowls of food, baskets of hot potatoes, plates of vegetables, shamrock bedecked napkins, and 'the good' silverware added to the gaiety.

Light-hearted Irish tunes played merrily as my daughters' guests walked into the kitchen and spotted the bounty. Joy! The girls grinned as their knives cut through the perfectly cooked spuds as through butter. Delicious fats and seasonings were spread and sprinkled into and onto the steaming delights, then fruits and vegetables carefully spooned onto plates. Art. Young women created perfect plates of food as they spoke their happiness. "I LOVE potatoes. Nice BIG potatoes! And FAT! And Fresh Fruit!"

Then, sheer contentment - even bliss - as they savored every bite.

Cassie and Caroline provided beauty in a comfortable, lively setting. For hours and hours these young woman enjoyed each others' company, relaxed, legs curled under them while relaxing in overstuffed furniture, or sprawled out on huge pillows under shamrock garlands. Friendship. Relaxation. A space of time separated from the harried life of a high school student. The world of decisions, and homework, and parents, and boys, and responsibility drifted away for awhile. Refreshment took its place.

We all need time to restore in order to continue energetically creating our lives.

Healthy foods served in beautiful ways amidst comforting surroundings with people who love and support us just as we are.

Providing joy looks just so.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Hari Hachi Bu

Our stomachs have stretch receptors which signal information to our brains. It takes these little guys twenty minutes to tell our brains how full we really are. Most of us know this already.

In addition, if we regularly eat until we feel 100 percent full we will actually be about 20% overcapacity with every meal. The stomach will stretch a little bit more each time we eat to accommodate the extra food. Then, we'll have to consume more the next time we eat to get that same feeling of fullness. Vicious cycle.

While this signaling and stretching of the stomach was beneficial during the days when foraging and hunting for food were the norm it can be a detrimental mechanism with food readily available on every corner and in our own homes.

What to do?

Hari Hachi Bu.

Loosely translated, hari hachi bu means, 'eat until you are eight parts full (out of ten)'. The Okinawans - a population known for their very long, high-quality life spans - practice this habit. They do not go hungry, no, not at all, but they do stop eating before they burst at the seams. They simply leave a little room at the end of each meal.

Sensitivity to signals requires merely listening to your body, its sensations, learning from your eating experiences, and then practicing what is learned.

For example, last night I made a delicious roast beef dinner especially for Tom as his job is taking him away from home for twelve and thirteen hours a day this week. Grass-fed beef slowly roasting amidst fresh picked rosemary, smashed garlic cloves, and wedged onion. Red potatoes mashed to perfection. Perfectly steamed broccoli. And Cassie made homemade vanilla ice cream with the freshest ingredients including fair-trade, organic, no-soy, no-milk-powder dark chocolate whacked into chips. Some of Tom's favorite foods. Mine, too.

While I was careful to serve myself conservative amounts of food, it was so tasty. Moist meat, creamy potatoes, the broccoli with the just the right amount of bite. I ate slowly. I savored. I found myself near hari hachi bu with a little space saved for Cassie's ice cream.

But the potatoes. Just a few more. I still have room.

Stupid.

I ate a few more. Then, I ate some ice cream. I knew full well what I was doing but I did it anyway.

It wasn't that much food, but it was past 100%. Just a little. Just enough to make me feel over full. Not a good feeling. My few moments of pleasure eating that one scoop too many potatoes stayed with me for hours. I made myself move for the next couple of hours rather than sit and that helped. But I know my sleep was impaired for at least the first half of the night. I could feel my body still hard at work digesting when it should have been free to rest and restore.

The good in last night's experience is that I paid attention. I scolded myself for my stupidity, then forgave. Lesson learned. Lesson remembered - for now. Eat until you are 80% full. Why? For one, it feels bad not to.

Hari Hachi Bu. A wonderful aid when obeyed.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Making it Better

Small changes add up to big differences.

I have a chocolate cupcake recipe given to me years ago by an old farmer's wife. It's called Never Fail Cupcakes. Dense moist chocolate cupcakes that are simple to make and eagerly received.

Delicious and elegant with a fluffy vanilla butter cream frosting but oh, so sweet. Special occasions yes.

Often I just want to serve a bit of cake without all the sugary frosting.

For a lighter cupcake I simply sprinkle seven or eight chocolate, peanut butter, or white chocolate chips - or a mixture of two or three flavors - over the top of the already spooned in batter. Then, I add a hearty pinch of raw sugar sprinkled over the chips. The sugar adds sparkle and a crispy texture which complements the moist cupcake and gooey chips.

Very nice. I've been told they look 'fancy.'

Pleasure.

Never Fail Cupcakes
1 1/2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 cup baking cocoa
1 egg
1/2 c. sour milk *
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 cup hot water, tap is fine
1 tsp. oil

*If you don't have sour milk - and really, who does? - you can use buttermilk or sour your own milk by placing 1 1/2 tsp. apple cider, white, or rice vinegar into a 1/2 cup measuring cup. Fill to 1/2 measurement with regular milk and let sit for five minutes. Voila! Sour milk!

Beat all at once in mixer.
Place into buttered or sprayed muffin tin. (Can use chocolate chip/raw sugar method mentioned above, or add nuts, or anything you like, or bake plain.)
Bake at 375 degree oven for 20 minutes.
Remove from pan immediately to wire rack to cool. I use a fork or spoon to gently lift them out.
Can serve them split underneath good ice cream (homemade is best!), or cool a little then sprinkle with powdered sugar, or just cool and eat as is.
Makes 12 cupcakes.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Art of the Delicious

"Without the culinary arts the crudeness of reality would be unbearable." ~~ from Kate and Leopold

Isn't that the truth. When I'm cooking something delicious I know I am an artist. The creation wafts aromas into the air bringing appreciation to my work. One person, then two, then more meander to the source, noses sniffing, smiles of appetite stimulation on their faces.

Eventually the colorful, hungered-for foods arrive at the table before my seated participants.

We are transported to another world, one where the main objective is to move delicious meats, vegetables, fruits, breads, and more into our mouths for gratification. We eat. Quietly at first but together. Glances are exchanged. Throat sounds of delight and curiosity. Soon all out conversation and merriment ensue. It's fabulous!

The crudeness of reality is forgotten in the bliss of a carefully executed culinary experience, of art.

It's easy to do, to transport ourselves away from cares and ugliness. And it's quite affordable. One need only heart, passion.

Results of existing in divine sustenance, however momentary, are relaxation, nourishment, connection, stress-relief, and inspiration. Certainly worth the effort especially if the blessings infuse those we love.

Artful eating. Beautiful life.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Food Around the World

Time Magazine posted an eye-opening selection from a book entitled What the World Eats.

A fascinating portrayal of food consumption and money spent (converted to U.S. dollars) per week by individual families all around the world.

For example: (click on photo to enlarge)


United States: $341.98

Japan: $317.25

Mexico: $189.09

China: $155.06

Italy: $260.11

Bhutan: $5.03

Chad: $1.23

I've posted only seven of fifteen photos. Click here to see the rest of them. I think you'll agree it's a worthwhile use of your time. A healthy dose of reality does a person good.


Getting it Right

Jamie Oliver, one of my favorite cookbook authors and television chefs, says he's noticed, on trips to Italy, that many of the young people live what is considered 'modern-day life' but it's actually equivalent to life in the U.S. and Britain circa the 1970's. They do have cell phones and computers but they are not an essential part of everyday life and not as many people have them as do here. Jamie says, "There is also a massive working-class population and a very small proportion of wealthy people."

He goes on to write:
So I think Italy has managed to retain a lot of its brilliant things because there hasn't been a lot of choice available. I really believe that. And for me it creates quite a profound emotion because sometimes when you have too much choice you can lose sight of the things that really matter - your family, your kids, and your health. With Italians being the third longest-living nation in the world, behind the Japanese and the Icelanders, you can see that they're not doing much wrong even with a lack of choice! Yes, they do eat loads of saturated fat and olive oil, and they also cook on charcoal and wood (which is supposed to be carcinogenic), but they eat in a balanced way - loads of fruit, veg, fish, and meat - and they keep active. ~~ from Jamie's Italy, Jamie Oliver
Apparently Italian children as young as four nestle between mothers and great-grandmothers in daily pasta-making. Children are also thoroughly fluent in which herbs go with which meats and much more.

To teach children hands-on skills and knowledge from the start is the best way I know to instill not only traditional ways but the satisfaction that comes from knowing how to care for oneself and one's family throughout life.

These traditional ways, to me, are priceless.

Mangi!

All Intents and Purposes

I love everything about food. Real food. Food from the earth, gathered and prepared with passion, shared with loved ones or savored alone. Better with people, though, because of the shared excitement, the mutual moans of delight, the words of description, and expressions of wonder.

I'm not entirely certain how it is that I have become the cook/baker that I am given my childhood experiences. Mom liked the 50's convenience foods. I didn't encounter real spaghetti with fresh marinara sauce until I made it myself when in my 20's. Mom's version of spaghetti was Franco-American from a can. Chinese food was Chung-King from a can and I hated it. I made myself a peanut butter sandwich on Chinese night. French fries were frozen, chicken always fried, pork chops were leather, and vegetables were canned or frozen and cooked to mush. When Mom began to garden after I left home, still the veggies were cooked to mush. Freshly harvested from the garden then cooked till all that was left was the pulp. Dad made her mad when he suggested she cook her vegetables they way I do.

So, how did I wander from Cool-Whip to fresh whipping cream, from canned pumpkin pies to pies made from fresh grown pumpkin roasted in my oven, from cheap meats to grass-fed, from Oscar Meyer lunchmeat sandwiches to marinated mojito chicken on crusty grilled bread, from stale herbs in a jar to growing my own, from fast food to well, nausea at the thought of fast food?

I don't know. It was such a slow journey.

But I suspect it began with my hearing loss. Our bodies being the amazing things they are compensate for deficiencies by ramping up somewhere else. Born with a moderate loss seems to have enhanced my palate. Much pleasure is to be had from energetic taste buds, and much pain, too, when they encounter frown-inducing food-like substances set on a dinner plate.

My taste buds saved me. They shouted at me that, 'There must be a better way! Find it! We're dyin' down here!"

So, I found it. My sense of smell - equally enhanced - led the charge and worked hand in hand with my tongue. I took Home Ec. in school where I learned some techniques, but again, the courses were pretty deficient. Tenacious me found recipes and articles in Mom's Ladies' Home Journal and McCall magazines. Not great, but a place to start. Then I discovered Julia Child and her enthusiasm went a long way. PBS had some excellent cooking shows in addition to good old Julia.

Eventually, Tom and I summoned our courage and began frequenting good restaurants in order to broaden our experiences. We have never looked back. The world of real food with its glorious tastes, textures, scents, colors, and robustness - gorgeously presented - opened up for me. Soon I was shopping in better grocery stores and creating dishes out of my own imagination and wowing my family.

And wowing the family was extremely satisfying because not only were they being nourished they were happy, eager, and connected. We all were.

I'm pretty pleased with the fact that I halted Mom's less-than-stellar cooking legacy in one generation. Nipped it in the bud. All four of my kids have refined palates which crave food as it was meant to be. That's my legacy.

It's a valuable one.

Together my family and I continue to learn from one another, to brave new cuisines, techniques, crossing barriers into the unknown, and enjoying the passion together.

Mangi!