Potato, Po-taw-ta, Tomato, Tom-aw-ta

18 Sunday Jun 2017

Posted by Stacey Bender in at the holidays, family gatherings, the kitchen

Tags

Barbecue Ribs, Classic Potato Salad, Ree Drummond's Ree-yubs

PS_cover shot 1.jpg

There are, arguably, many ways to do or say anything; Point A to point B has many paths, and cooking basics are no exception. Take for instance, “classic” potato salad. It can vary drastically depending on where you live or how you were taught to prepare it. Even “Mom’s Classic” potato salad will be different at Mr Roger’s house than it will be at the Casto residence.

With egg or without, celery or pickles, or cornichon perhaps? Are there green onions?Mayonnaise versus Miracle Whip (yikes!). One thing is for certain, potato salad is classic barbecue fare and even if it is not Tom’s favorite, it will always have a place at our table (albeit mostly in front of me).

Then, of course, there are the ribs.! I can’t image a Memorial weekend or Fourth of July without them. There are some people who are really serious about their ribs; I mean really seriously loyal; to their region, culture and craft-kind of rib-eating and making; serious business. Usually it involves that perfect mix of spice, a particular cut of meat, a lot of smoke mixed with a low amount of heat, hangin’ out for a long period of time under cover. Time can be our enemy, but it can also be our friend!

For those of us that just enjoy the succulent, meaty flavor of tender, tear-off-the-bone meat and are willing to forgo (or simply don’t have) the 18 hours, the proper tools, patience or know-how to do otherwise (a category that I am willing to be a part of), our ribs can be ‘fridge to fork in approximately 3 hours…or less!

They can be rubbed, par-boiled, marinated, or all three. Grilled, broiled, smoked or baked.

Spicy, smokey, sweet.

Saucy, dry, meaty or lean.

Depending on your region, there is certainly, a predisposition for the proper method, spice and cut. In my local region, which I consider to be wherever my dinner plate sits, I am happy to indulge myself, greedily, to any of the aforementioned methods and even some of the unmentioned ones.

I love ribs, period! I have a special affection of the pig-provided kind. Throw in a plate of potato salad, made using hard-cooked eggs (my only rule) and I am eating my own little happy meal.

When I am the cook, my go-to ribs are usually par-boiled in a flavorful liquid, then dry rubbed and slathered with home-made (or even bottled if tight on time) barbecue sauce. This is all done usually hours, or days, before I plan to eat them because as they sit, they become even more flavorful. This makes them a very forgiving treat.

They are slathered and stored on a foil-lined baking pan. When we are nearing dinner time, I light a grill and sit the ribs out on the counter to come up to room temperature. They take a 10 minute sauna in the grill with the lid down as the corn (yes, I usually have corn on the cob) cooks too.

After they are heated through, I remove them from the foil, move the corn to the top grate so they are not on direct heat and put the ribs, top down, on the hot, lower rack to brown. When they have grill marks, I turn them over and brush with more sauce and let sit just a few minutes until I can get everything plated to eat. More sauce on the side if you like, and Tom does! It is hard to go wrong, as long as you don’t let them burn, too much, that is.

When I was young, my Mom’s go-to ribs were cooked solely in the oven, uncovered and slathered in peanut butter barbecue sauce (home-made). They were often not on the bone, also known as country spareribs, which meant, more meat, less bone. It was a recipe from my Great Grandma Brown. I could eat piles of them!!

As they were cooking, I used to peak my head in the oven, willing the aroma to encompass me. Mom would shout out for the oven to be kept closed, so the heat didn’t escape.

I waited and waited, enjoying every moment that I was able to drink in the smell. I would peak into the oven with the oven light turned on. I watched as they transformed from pale paisley to a rich, burnished brown. The peanut butter wasn’t an overly obvious flavor but the depth and richness it offered permeated the meat.

Ironically, I don’t cook my ribs that way, even though if I did, I am sure I would be hooked once again. Maybe if my Mom sees this, she will make them for me, next time she is in town?

Needless to say, color me happy is what the (somewhat) recent weekend was about! Heading off for a short visit with my in-laws during Memorial weekend, I was eagerly anticipating Lois’ ribs; the same she had made for us last year, adapted from Ree Drummand’s, “Spicy Chili Pork Ree-Yubs”.

ree drummand article

Sun-soaked, fresh-air delivered, we had come in from the waterfront after kayaking off Alderbrook Resort on the Hood Canal; even Buddy was in tow (of course). Ginger, not being a water breed, stayed on shore with Grandma keeping guard of the lounge chairs (a very important task).

Two, or in our case, 3 hours in the oven are about the sweet-spot for these ribs that Lois made us on our return. We passed our time well, back at the cabin, out in the gazebo, fireplace blazing, while munching on smoked trout-filled endive and deviled egg nosh.

It is now sometime between Memorial Day and the Fourth of July; more specifically, it is Father’s Day (Love to all our Dad’s…Kent (my Dad), Tom (Tom’s Dad), John & Bill (our other Dads), Mark, Scott and Jeff (our brothers who are also Dads)…and so on…Uncle Corky, Grandpa George, Tom C. (my Dad-in-law on my brother’s side) and Joe Gildner (our good friend and newly married-off-oldest daughter Dad) and Piotr (our good friend and a really good Dad)…

Oh, and a Happy Father’s Day to my love, the daddy of our furry kids (I’m talking to you, my Tom)!

On the menu tonight is, you guessed it: Ribs, corn and potato salad.

Don’t worry, the potato salad isn’t for (my) Tom, it is for all you other Dad’s out there that actually enjoy a good potato salad! Tom will be taken care of too, no worries there, for those of you that are worried. He does alright.

So, rain or clouds be damn, fire up the grill and let’s get this party started!

PS_cover shot 3

“Castoway’s” Classic Potato Salad – Courtesy of Lois (Bender) Casto

“2# potatoes (I used Russet, but have also used red, skinned ), 3 hard-boiled eggs, 3 rbs celery, 4 green onions. Dressing: 1/2 cup mayo, 1-1/2 Tbsp white wine vinegar, 1 Tbsp Dijon mustard, salt and pepper to taste. If too tart I add a sprnkle of granulated sugar. I boil the potatoes whole, then peel and cube, but you can peel and cube before cooking too. Either works. It’s just a basic recipe.”

I will vouch for this one and basic as it is, the simplicity makes it delicious. Think of it as a little black dress; it can be gussied up, accessorized and taken out on the town or worn on it’s own, in which case, it will stand up for itself!

“It sure is nice to be King for a day; so glad I am a Prince! Happy Father’s Day Dadfy!”

“Oh Buddy, you are a Prince! Of course that is only because I am a Princess.”

Old Fashion(ed) holiday cheer!

26 Monday Dec 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, holidays, the holidays, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

bulliet rye, Christmas, holiday, spiced old fashion, Thanksgiving

We pulled off the ferry late (one somewhat recent) Thursday night after spending a memorable Thanksgiving on Bainbridge Island at the Gil-wards Holiday gathering. Tom and I are grateful for having secured two of the most-coveted seats on that Island for this year’s celebration between two households, shared with Family and Friends.

For those of you in the know, Tom and I have had a years-long tradition of spending Thanksgiving beachside in Hawaii, grilling our dinner mere feet from the ocean with our toes in the sand. It is easy to be thankful while romping in the clear water and warming in the sun all day before setting up a mini-kitchen on the beach, cocktails in hand. Grateful to be watching the enormous sun slowly disappear beyond the horizon while simultaneously leaving a magnificent glow of color in the sky for those who patiently stay around. Grateful for waves serenading us with their gentle rhythm as families, dressed in linens, pass by on their way to the nearby resorts for their turkey dinners. During those precious moments, we always feel amazingly grateful for our lives here on earth, especially on Island.

This year, as I mentioned, Thanksgiving was different. It was spent in the company of our Family, on an island that poured rain more dramatically than the ocean waves sang and was warmed not by the sun, but by the love (and heaters) in the home (and on the beautifully curated porch). This was not a tropical island, but I would not have traded that night for one in the tropics. Not this year!

I was reminded of how important it is to spend moments of meaning with Family (and with Friends that might as well be Family). As we all sat down to dinner, each of us had a name card at their plate, which I assumed was there to indicate where we were to sit. It was there to do that, yes, but there was more. After the meal, we were directed to pass our card to the person on the left and to write something for which we are grateful about the person on the card of that passed from the person on our right. This would go on until the cards with our names made it back to their original spot. At the end, we all had a card that was filled with things about us for which people were grateful. How fantastic is that?!

I am not one to write something so quickly, so I am sure to have stumbled on my words and on my pen. To all of you seated around the table that night, I hope you each know how much I love and adore you (well, I did just meet one of you but if you continue to make Katie happy, I will certainly love you too). I am thankful to be a part of your lives and that you are in our lives (Tom, Ginger, Buddy and my (life)). I am grateful for your guidance (Scott), all of your musical talents (not Scott) plus the enthusiasm to experience it all (known and unknown), including family at all important (or not so important) occasions (all of you)! Grateful for good food, accompanied always with strong drink as well as witty, entertaining conversation, and of course, love. Grateful that the kids have all grown up in loving and happy homes with the guidance, resources and community support needed to flourish, love and be their best selves! And they are all amazing, individualistic and loving souls.

As we are now full bloom into the Holiday Season, Tom and I send our official Aloha, having recently returned from the (Hawaiian) beach. We are warmed, well-fed and happy for the respite, as incredibly short as it was. We are most grateful to be back with our pups and in our cozy home. Just as we held up our glasses of prosecco spiked with pineapple last week, we now hold up our glasses filled with happy spirits and say, “Happy Holidays” and then clink our glasses with an a ‘Old Fashioned’ cheer.

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HOLIDAY SPICED OLD FASHIONED (big batch)

If having a party, it is a good idea to make a large batch, set it out on the bar with garnishes, glasses and ice for guests to easily pour their own. I used Spanish orange bitters here, but it is also good with chestnut bitters, or you can use Angostura or Fee Brothers old fashioned aromatic bitters.

INGREDIENTS

3 cups of your favorite bourbon or rye (I use Bulliet Rye)

3 TB spiced simple syrup (recipe to follow)

2 tsp bitters (see note above)

Peel of 1 orange (in long strips)

TO MAKE

Add all ingredients into a glass pitcher and stir. Be sure to set out craft maraschino cherries and orange wedges for garnish. The best cherries are Italian, brandy-soaked cherries that can be found in specialty stores. I use Luxardo brand cherries. If you are able, use a big block ice cube tray to make ice for your guests so that the drink remains cold longer and does not get diluted straight away.

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HOLIDAY SPICED OLD FASHIONED (made to order)

If you are making it to order, which I prefer, simply add a cherry and a slice of tangerine to a glass and mash it with a muddler. Add a large piece of ice to each glass. Fill a cocktail shaker 1/2 way up with ice and pour in a healthy pour of your favorite bourbon or rye. You can make two or three at a time this way; approximately 4 oz per drink. Add a few dashes of bitters, 1/2 teaspoon of the spiced simple syrup (recipe to follow) per drink (or more if you prefer your drink sweeter). Stir with a long spoon then strain into prepared glasses.

SPICED SIMPLE SYRUP

Simple syrup is great to use in drinks or sauces that are typically served cold because the sugar is already dissolved when you add it to the ingredients. The traditional syrup consists of one part water to one part sugar, brought to a simmer and left to cool. This is no different except that the sugar is slightly reduced (because I try to consume less sugar) and there are spices added to the simmer to infuse it with a little bit of the holiday spirit.

INGREDIENTS

1 cup water

3/4 cups (or 1 cup if you prefer) pure, unrefined coconut sugar (or raw, natural sugar)

1 cinnamon stick

1 cardamon pod, slightly smashed and lightly toasted (in the oven or in a pan on the stove top)

3 pieces candied ginger

A few shavings of freshly-grated nutmeg

1/4 tsp ground cinnamon

2 cloves

TO MAKE

Add all ingredients to a saucepan and bring to a light boil. Reduce heat to simmer for 1 minute, then turn off the heat, remove the pan from the stove top and allow to cool completely.

When cool, press on the ginger to help release some of the flavor and then strain.

You can reserve the cinnamon stick and candied ginger for another use, such as mulled cider or wine. You can also use the cinnamon sticks as a garnish for stirring.

Store in a small jar for up to 6 months (may or may not refrigerate, I don’t to keep it supple).

“…and that’s a wrap!”

Smoked Meats (and tangy drinks)

15 Monday Aug 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Father's Day, mango margarita, nectarine margarita, taco bar

margarita two glass

It seems fitting that I should roast a pork on Father’s Day. Firstly, because pork brings back “Thoughts of Dad”. Secondly, because pork is manly and can be roasted on a grill. Ironically, I found out recently that my Dad doesn’t like smoked meats. In fact, he doesn’t like smoked food. Yet, I am pretty sure, as I was growing up, we ate bacon once a week (!), and in last year’s visit, (the one where I became aware of his disdain for smoked food), he exclaimed his love of smoked pork chops. Perhaps he doesn’t think these are actually flavored of smoke? In any case, I started writing this last year on Father’s Day and for Dad, I was making pork (even though he was back home in Mexico), and for Tom, the father of our adorable furry kids, I roasted said pork, in smoke!

I could smell it as I typed, wafting smoky loveliness throughout our yard and down our street. Sadly, I didn’t write down what I did so when we finally get the replacement part for our wood pellet grill, I will explore a re-creation. Until then, it was one year and two months later that I found myself in Arizona, visiting Dad (and Linda). It was Father’s Day (again) and I planned on roasting a pork.

…and Linda brought me to the right place.

Instead, I let someone roast it for us, overnight in applewood smoke, until it fell apart and filled with just the most perfect essence of smoke.

Did I say Linda brought me to the right place?!

This tender pork I stuffed into charred poblanos along with charro beans, sautéed onions, tomatillo salsa, cumin and coriander. It was then topped with mozzarella and cojita cheeses before going into the oven for 30 minutes at 375-degrees. It came out melty, smoky and delicious.

But I’m not here to tell you about that, I am here to tell you about this – a taco bar. In addition to the poblanos, the pork was set out on a platter with other taco fixings. We were having a few guests over; and since it was crazy hot out and a few guests could mean two – but could also mean 10, I decided to keep it simple while keeping the kitchen coolish (it was 111 degrees outside). Since we were in Arizona, a taco bar sounded like a good idea. Okay, to me, a taco bar always sounds like a good idea.

As does a fountain!

But not as good as a pool!

Good thing we got both… a pool and a fountain!

Serving suggestion: Think about using colorful dishes with food set out on large platters surrounded by smaller bowls of salsas and garnish. Chips and guacamole are perfect to nibble while sipping on cool mango margaritas before dinner. Festive music should include the likes of Tito Paris, the Champs or Jenny and the Mexicats.

But first…

...start by making margaritas! It is summer here in our piece of the world and better yet, it is the ideal time for nectarines in the Pacific Northwest. Specifically, in Yakima, Washington. I don’t have mangos (and am not in Mexico, Hawaii, nor Arizona for that matter) but I do have a large quantity of nectarines. Picked fresh from the Yakima Valley and purchased yesterday at Hunter Farms, so I’m thinking nectarine margaritas!

The margaritas I made were from these outrageously delicious, tender, sweet with a-bit-of twang perfection. If you use other nectarines, purchased from a grocer without access to really good nectarines, I will first off, feel sorry for you and secondly, feel grateful that I didn’t. No worries though, I am here to help you through by letting you know, your margarita will still be stellar. Perhaps a little more Grand Marnier will do the trick? Peaches, mangos or apricots could be used in place of the nectarine. Just remember that it is adding most of the sweetness to the drink since we aren’t adding sugar (or even simple syrup).

Nectarine Margaritas:

In a blender or food processor (such as a Vitamix), add the juice of 2 limes and 1 lemon (which should equal a total of 6 TB), 1 large nectarine (minus 4 slices for garnish; pit removed, skin on), 6 oz tequila (your favorite kind or the best you can afford), 2 oz Grand Marnier, and a big handful of ice. Puree until smooth and serve in salt-rimmed glasses, garnished with a slice of nectarine and a sprig of herb (basil, mint, thyme…).

The fixin’s (for a taco bar):

Chunked Watermelon – lime juice, Serrano pepper & mint (literally that – dice some watermelon and mix with chopped Serrano chili, chopped mint and a little sea salt; very refreshing)

Pork butt – slow cooked, tender and smoky

Swordfish – cumin, coriander & heat

Sautéed Red Pepper and Onion

Black Beans

Sliced Cabbage

Torn Cilantro

Pico de gallo

Mango salsa (see my version here)

Avocado slices

Chipotle lime crème (just add chipotle chile powder or a small amount of the sauce from a can of chipotle chilis, and lime juice to CRÈME fraîche or sour cream).

By the way, if anyone is wondering why the hell I am writing about Father’s Day in August (when it happens to be in, uh, June), I believe you might want to reread this post.

Buen provecho!

Ahhh summer…! Buddy: “Do we like nectarines?” Ginger: “Yeah, remember they gave us their drink garnish. Is that why your pants are on backwards?”

The “Family” game

06 Saturday Aug 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, Reviews

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

American Lamb Board, IFBC 2016, King Kabob food truck, Yolo Brewery

PS_rules for cover

This comes from Sacramento* where Tom and I are currently traveling to Dixon, CA, on a bus, filled with fellow food bloggers; destination unknown, to us anyways (and sponsored by the American Lamb Board). My husband is sitting next to me and I just consumed a full sandwich filled with smoky slices of lamb; it was delicious! I also ate the potato salad, all of it, and some of Tom’s. I’m a little crazy about potato salad, but perhaps not the best idea at the beginning of a bus ride in the country. I won’t go into that, but did I mention I am claustrophobic? I certainly am now! We are sitting in traffic, sun beating in, 101-degrees outside and I am listening to the cackle of many, many chatty voices, which are making me slightly insane! I do see there is a restroom located in the back of the bus, conveniently, one row behind us. I keep eyeing it over my shoulder, plotting my path, just-in-case. I’ve been recently reminded that I can get car sick while riding in the back seat and am flashing back to my childhood. I am adamently questioning our decision to leave the rental car parked at the hotel?!

* Well, it would have if I posted this last week when it was written, oops!

To keep my mind occupied (and my stomach, um, unaware), I am reminiscing the day leading up to this where we had hiked in the morning, sat in a creek (because it was again over 100-degrees), boated on Lake Wildwood, and best of all, after going my whole life unaware it existed, finally learned Zion Check, the “Family” game.

Tom and I are attending the International Food Bloggers Conference (IFBC) again, but this year it’s earlier in the year and in Sacramento, which turns out, is halfway between Alamo (no, not that Alamo) and Lake Wildwood. The significance of that geographic trivia has to do with our motivation for attending this year’s conference (in addition of course, to the lure of the farm-to-fork culture of the area and the generous sponsors who will be there, providing stellar food, drinks and interesting + important facts, as usual).

My (our) main motivation however, was that my cousin Julie (you might remember her from this…), lives in the East Bay Area and has a vacation home in the Sierra Nevada foothills, where we have just spent the last several days. Julie is the daughter of my birth Mom’s twin sister. We had sadly not spent but a couple short times together since we were quite young, but apparently had spent a great deal more time together than either of us realized when we were young (as documented by the numerous photo albums that we finally got through, and I mean that in a good sense).

As we arrived at their home, greeted suspiciously, by their sweet dog Angela (AKA, Angie) and (slightly) less suspiciously by her husband Joe; Julie whisked us inside exclaiming how while we were here, we needed to look through old photo albums and play the “Family” game. Growing up at my house in Alaska, we most definitely played games. We played Cribbage, Gin Rummy and such. Monopoly, Survive, Battleship, Scrabble and Yahtzee. Old Maid, Dominos, Risk. We played Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, Parcheesi, Hearts and Go Fish. The list goes on. But not once though, had we played Zion Check, which Julie enthusiastically pointed out, we would be playing this trip.

Ms. Angie on lookout at the bow.

The first night we popped open a bottle of champagne and caught up. Then we loaded onto their boat with a platter of cheese and our cocktails to set off on a sunset cruise around the lake. After we got back and finished a late dinner, we all agreed that the next day, Tom and I would learn the “Family” game. The next day, after breakfast on the deck, we decided instead, to escape the forecasted heat by driving 90 minutes northeast to Lake Tahoe, where we parked ourselves at a shaded table, under a tree by the lake, to have cocktails and eat crab. In Nevada (because we can). That was a good plan. Did I mention the temperature had reached 106-degrees that day?

Time was running out and we hit our last day at the lake, no more knowledgable about how to play the “Family” game than we had been any day prior. We did learn that Julie had been playing it for forty years and playing it with Joe for twenty-three of them. With no breakfast preluding, we kick-started our last full day with a hike. It was invigorating! It was hot! Damn hot (but bonus!) it allowed us to sit in a running river, yay! Upon our return, I happily watched Joe make a large breakfast, hungrily ate said large breakfast, showered (the hot stink away) and proceeded to look through many nostalgic photos. It was (now) the hottest part of the day, so we finally sat downstairs (the lake beckoning beyond the windows, but from air conditioned comfort) at the poker table to play the “Family” game.

This was a card game, it turns out! Perhaps best described as Gin Rummy meets Poker. Card play can be as ruthless…and tricky but fun. I could tell from the start that this would be no exception. We all antied up our 55 cents (no pennies accepted) and each got our 11 poker chips in return.

Cool hand Luke!

Not our tally sheet, but a history lesson. Julie often wins.

As Julie wrote out our “contract” (what the heckfire?!), I could immediately tell Tom was getting nervous that this game, might be over his head (he is not a card player as such, but sneakily good and catching on and beating those well-versed).

Well, I have digressed, so, to make a short story less long, I will go back to the bus ride and let you know that it ended just fine (and stomach intact). As you know, it started a little sketchy. The bus stopped in the middle of nowhere and we were concerned there might be a bit of walking involved, through cows and sheep and sunflowers, no cool air, hot sun pounding down; I did spy a cute sight though, out the window was a sweet girl and her father on a bundle of hay.

Now that’s a farm girl!

Turns out we were meant to go on a hayride. How fun, if it was not so damn hot! Our guide, Ryan (and daughter Macayla) thought the same thing, so we toured the farm in a bus. Ryan’s a 5th generation farmer and his family supplies meat to Superior Farm, which, as luck would have it, I do buy a lot of my lamb from. I have good taste!

…and he has a cute daughter!

Our final destination turned out to be Yolo Brewery which makes exceptional beer. I have that on good authority because I tasted them all! Tom and I were particular fans of the Orange Blossom Blonde (refreshing for the hot weather) and the Coconut Porter (surprisingly delicious! It was good just by itself but would make a good pairing with chocolate or as a replacement for dessert).

full beer glass

To be truthful, Tom and I went a little bit rogue. We did, hard to believe, we know! Rule breakers. It was so hot and we all had waited around for so long to understand what we were doing there (in the brewery) besides drinking beer, that is (kudos to Paige (the bartender who spent a short stint in Seattle before succumbing to the gray winters and heading back home) to kick the taps off on her own accord), that Tom and I opted to sit outside under the misters. Yes, I know this was rude.

Yolo brew bar copy

However, not only were we full, we were hot. The water misters, in hot, fresh air, sounded good. Stuffed in a warehouse corner, watching a lamb be butchered sounded, not good, for me (us). There you go; we sometimes roll like that.

Speaking of rolling…

As we reluctantly (did I say it was hot?!) stuffed our very full faces with hallava, from the King Kabob food truck parked outside the brewery (more treats sponsored by the American Lamb Board) we decided we could stuff in some more (because they were GREAT)!!! Exceptional in fact. Now Tom and I were on our second one.

I can’t give you a pretty picture of the food because it was consumed quickly!

I strongly felt the need to go talk to the Man! Two Men as it were, father and son, to let them know how much we enjoyed their food. If you recall, I am a bit particular (and may I remind you, already full), so coming from me, I feel there should be put an extra emphasis on how exceptional this lamb dish was!

I swear the guys are in there actually talking to me.

As I got to talking to the Owner, Rasul and his son John, I learned the lamb came fresh from a farm just down the road where Rasul says Chuck sells only the best meat. I can attest to the fact that the lamb we were eating was the best lamb of its kind I have ever tasted. Expecting the typical chewy and unremarkable flavor to which I am accustomed to finding in a food truck, I instead bit into tender morsels exploding with balanced flavor.

…and then we had thirds. This was an offering after talking about the nuances of rice. These guys know how to make rice (oh yeah, and lamb)!

The two men were at first, reluctant to divulge any of their secrets, but after much conversation and interest, they gave me some information that I consider to be golden (and I didn’t even need a gold pan). How lucky did I feel when the rest of the bus missed out on the most important part of the trip – getting to know the Makers. I am reluctant to share those secrets, especially since I haven’t had a chance to try them out yet, so stay tuned…

King Kabob: Find them in Sacramento now…and bring your appetite!

Hope to see you there next year!?

Video

Sweet 16 & always been kissed, by Ginger & Buddy

23 Monday May 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, Ginger + Buddy

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

dogs 16th birthday, Ellen Kume, macaroons, written by dogs

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By Ginger:

Every year humans seem to complain about getting one year older. This, I don’t understand! How many of us actually get the chance to grow old? I feel so lucky today because I have lived yet another year! I have had 16 years (s i x t e e n y e a r s!!!) of special salmon dinners and carrot cake. I have had sixteen years helping Mom taste things in the kitchen, helping Dad have a reason to go clean up the yard and prove to Buffy that she sent the right dog to take her place as guardian of this home.

By calculation, I am old but in fact, I feel very young! I can run fast, climb stairs quickly, bark loudly with great force and authority; I may even be getting my driver’s license soon (Dad says I have to practice a little more first). I have traveled by plane, by train and by automobile; by bike, boat and shopping cart. I have run freely on the beach with sand softening each blow. I have entertained at parties. I have made friends and influenced people (to my way of thinking).

Really Mom?!

I have embraced the fashions, both classic and trendy. I have been photographed, published, video taped and listened to. I have made my mark on the world (or at least the world that surrounds me) and have every intention of making more marks!!! (Including those that don’t need to be cleaned up!)

Uh, yeah, deal with it. (Yes, Mom did.)

I am sweet sixteen and I have always been kissed, loved and hugged (sometimes within an inch of my life)!

Kiss me you fool…

I know Buddy has not always been kissed but he is kissed now, and often, with sometimes even a peck by me. We are both sixteen now. I wasn’t so sure at first, but we are both in this together and I want to do my part to keep him well, keep him with us and keep him feeling happy and loved (as I always have been). Buffy would want it this way. Happy birthday to us!

(A puppy at heart)

By Buddy:

I’m 16 too! I’m six-teen! Me, s i x t e e n ! This has been a good year. I am still here! I very much enjoyed the summer last year when everyone was more concerned about me than usual. Ginger and I got a new deck, very comfy new furniture on it to lounge, and so much love I was sometimes bothered, but just a very little. I like it here. I have an amazing new menu that is served to me three times a day (and more when I act feisty). I am bathed every week, whether I like it or not, carried practically everywhere (even when Mom is cooking; I like that I can get a good view). I mostly even get enough exercise (because Mom and Dad bought me socks so I don’t slip so much when I can walk), and I get kissed all the time! They say I am sweet sixteen and boy do I get kissed! (I’m glad I found my way to my true home five years ago). Buffy was right, this is a great place to live! I want to live! I am alive! Bring on the sunshine! Oh, and I want to EAT mmore meet !!!

PS_close up macaroons

Macaroons (Little Presents: orange-filled + chocolate Bailey’s-filled)

Macaroons are like flavored kisses, dressed up as little birthday gifts . To our delight, Ellen, the most fabulous person at the place Mommy takes us for her work, brought us a plate full of flavored kisses last week. We (Buddy & Ginger) think these particular kisses were meant for us. Why wouldn’t they be? It was between our birthdays and although Ellen doesn’t kiss us, she takes great care of us at the office and she even tucks us in our beds with a blanket. Plus, she likes food. Not in a simple, likes to eat food kind of way but in a sophisticated picnic and pleasure kind of way. She gets what it means to enjoy food; which means, she gets what it means to enjoy life. We like Ellen; she’s our pal.

“Ellen, look at the view with me… Oh and yeah, a little more to the left. Thanks.”

These macaroons were quite pretty but not in the macaroon, Paris poodle sort of way; more in the wow, cute, cuddly and scrumptious type of way. Mom thinks macaroons are too fussy but she sure seemed to like these that Ellen made. They were the right kind of pretty with pretension left aside. They were Hobo Buddy kind of good, meaning, they had (almond) grit but lots of character and flavor.

PS_IMG_1459

There are a few bits of advise concerning the making of these cookies that Ellen thinks are important to note (also underlined below in her recipe):

The eggs need to be room temperature because they will whip better.
Use parchment paper and smack the tray to get rid of all the bubbles.
Let them sit for 1/2 hour; you should be able to touch them without them feeling sticky anymore.
4. If you use almond floor, they will be smooth. If you use almond meal, they will have little speckles (which is what Ellen used).

PS_MACAROONS

“Happy birthday to us, happy birthday to us, happy birthday us cuties, happy birthday to usssssss! Okay, time for a nap.”

In loving memory of Buffy Edwards-Bender: August 1985 – May 20, 2000. We miss you!

60!

29 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in - eating out, family gatherings

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

George and Peggy Brown, The Lucky Wishbone

The year was 1951. A couple, a young child and their dog drove up the Al-Can highway after the war and soon opened, what was at the time, a small shack of a diner. They soon hired a waitress named Agnes (Aggie). They woke up early, went to bed late and peeled potatoes, fried chicken, griddled burgers, and spun a yarn in-between. 50 years later (10 years ago), Aggie was still there, cooking, smiling and helping to shape the sense of Place. The child was now grown with three siblings, three children of her own and a much different job, running the offices of a US Senator.

The man and the woman were still married and still the Host and Hostess of an ever-present gathering spot in Alaska, serving the best fried chicken, burgers and shakes around. They had created an institution. The photos on the walls told the story of those 50 years and the years preceding them. A WWII pilot, George met Peggy waiting tables at a diner in Utah when he began courting her. It was a fast romance that resulted in that previously mentioned child. On this day, some 60 years later, The Lucky Wishbone still has a line out the door during the lunch rush, has some of it’s original employees or their offspring, their original patrons and/or their offspring and is still owned/operated by 94-year-old George Brown, my Grandfather. And you guessed it, that child is my Mother.

This November 30, 2015, The Lucky Wishbone turns 60. I am so proud. If walls could speak, the stories would be many. Each of us kids have put in our time there learning what it is like to put in a good day’s work for a good day’s pay. Learning what quality product and service should be. Learning so much….about life. I personally, feel the Lucky Wishbone shaped who I am today, for many reasons. I know it has shaped the lives of many others, both patrons and staff.

To George and Peg (Grandma is smiling from above) – Congratulations! To Grandpa and Grandma – I love you and thank you! To all the employees that I worked with and ate with and grew to know as family – Salute!.

Happy Birthday to “the Bone”! (and Happy Birthday to my Tom whose birthday it is today; you still light up my life).

I think I’ll go cook up some fried chicken now myself. But Julia, might you bring some home for me?

my fried chicken.jpg

“Fly” Fishing

28 Sunday Jun 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, the kitchen

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Alaskan King salmon, food writing, recipes, smoked cherries, smoked king salmon, smoked salmon on a Mak 2 Star General pellet grill

I have never been fly fishing. I have been fly-in, then fish-fishing though and do realize how lucky that is. I recently saw a picture of my nephew with his first-caught fish. I smiled at the image because it reminded me of my first-caught fish which (by the way) was bigger than my then seven-year-old self and, I believe, weighed considerably more than me (yes, that sounds fishy to me too). I did truly “catch” the largest salmon on that fishing trip though, even if my Grandpa had to help me reel it in!

What ‘ya got there Derek? Need a hand?

…ok, you got this one by yourself?

Among many other things, Grandpa is a pilot (as is John and for that matter, my Mom). When I recall fishing in Alaska, I recall flying to the destination. I hate to fly in general, still to this day, but I liked flying with him (or is that why I am now scared of flying; upside-down flying and all?). Truth be known, I am not that crazy about fishing now either. I like the idea of it though. It sounds pretty cool for someone who loves eating and cooking fresh fish. My Mom always baited my rod for me and when I reeled one in, she was the one that got dirty taking it from the hook. I wasn’t a “girly” girl, but I didn’t like to get my hands in the guts (yuck) either. Good thing I had Mom for that.

Grandpa taking off

In any case, I am much more interested in cooking than fishing now, but I’m lucky to have Grandpa, John, Mom and sometimes my brother Mark, to fly-in and catch it each Summer. I am also lucky because Mom and John just came to town, bringing (in addition to fried chicken from Grandpa’s restaurant) king salmon + sockeye, caught literally the day before. Sorry Gemini, it just doesn’t get fresher than that, for me!

Grandpa still flies himself (!!!) to fish for salmon, at, well, lets just say he’s had over 90 years on Earth, let alone the years in the air! How many people can say that? He brings it back to his restaurant and fries it up for the Lucky regulars sitting around the counter (who likely caught wind of what George was up to that day).

Grandpa in action:

So, for our little eight legs, two medium legs and Tom’s larger legs, we scurry to the grill to cook up the rest of the catch brought by hand, by way of commercial airlines, insulated bags and cold packs, just in time for an unconventional heatwave in Seattle’s June summer.

Mom cooked her signature salmon for us a few nights ago (see below). It awaited for us upon our return home from work, at the ready, for flash-cooking and begged to be devoured quickly along with sweet corn, grilled asparagus and whole Rainier cherries bitten from their pits and spit into the garden in hopes of cherry trees next year (of course, we do this every Summer and the squirrels usually just haul them off, and alas, the two decades-old “planted” cherry trees in the yard, are non-fruit bearing).

Thanks for the great dinner Mom!

We brined the fish, smoked the sockeye and pre-smoked the king. At the end of the day…we had fish. Smokey, yummy fish.

King Salmon smoking…

Hot-smoked King (salmon, not Elvis)

Hot-smoked Sockeye

Sorry, no photos available of the grilled king salmon with smoked jalapeño cherry sauce – I know you can use your imagination for this though.

Gin and Tonic Smoked Salmon

Today’s weather is a reprieve from a 91+ degree F heatwave that day (a paltry 88 for the high predicted). I brined my sockeye fillet in a mix of gin, tonic, lime, lemon, sugar and salt.

INGREDIENTS

2-3 lbs fresh salmon fillet (mine were sockeye, skin on… Mom didn’t want me to smoke the king – oops, did a little bit anyway… ssshhhhh).

1/4 cup turbino sugar
1/8 cup kosher salt
1/2 cup gin (I used Tangueray)
1 cup tonic water (I used Q-Tonic)
Juice of 1 lemon and 1/2 a lime

Fennel fronds (or whatever herb you might want it’s scent imparted)

Prepare

Making a brine is easy and requires less fuss than one would expect from the things I have read on the internet. Simply mix the brine ingredients in a Ziploc freezer bag, stir well to let the sugar dissolve and then add the fish.

The fish should be rinsed and patted dry. The skin can be left on or removed. You will want to let it brine for 4-6 hours or overnight for a real immersion.

Set your smoker to “smoke”. *We use our new Mak 2 Star General wood pellet grill for our smoking and the grill temp was between 180-200 degrees at that setting. Let it smoke until the thickest part reaches 140 degrees F. For us, it was 3 hours.

Easier than you thought, eh?

You can eat this straight from the bone or add to a cracker with dill sauce or creme fraiche + drink a gin & tonic (again, use your imagination, sky is the limit).

But whatever you do, do try this! It is outstanding! Smokey, but not too smokey. As spicy hot as you want it to be (1 jalapeño with seeds removed worked for me but go with your gut, it may or may not thank you later).

Smoked Jalapeño Cherry Sauce

This was a bonus because I had a bag of cherries and a fire-pot of smoke. I simply emptied them onto the grill (in my side cold-smoker tray) and let them smoke alongside the hot-smoking salmon. The jalapeño tagged along for the ride.

Hmmm…not sure where that eggplant ended up?

The cherries were perfect for eating with a cheese plate in that they were still raw but contained a mild smokey quality. I wanted to make a sauce though and the smoke was to be more assertive, so I took the cold-smoked cherries and threw them directly onto the grate with the king salmon as I smoked it the next day and let them smoke away (this is starting to sound like a Cheech and Chong movie).

Two hours later, I pulled them off, pitted them and threw them into my Blendtec with just enough water to make them saucy (1/8 cup?).

That’s it! De-lish! Stay tuned for rack of lamb with this sauce….

…or use your imagination!

Meanwhile…Buddy & Ginger are back to the observation deck awaiting their next meal.

Time Passes

29 Wednesday Apr 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, the kitchen

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

dinner with family, Lamb leg, pesto, recipes

I came to realize recently that no matter how much we hope to slow the clock, it moves ever-forward, one tick at a time. Busy moments rush by as quickly as they erupt and people fade into the distance, slowly at first, until the rhythm of our lives picks up pace and whisks those people further into the background. The back pocket of our minds where they are thought of often (certainly more often then they realize), but seldom ever seen.

To rejoin and see one-another again is the same occasion that makes me ponder; what it was that kept us apart for so long? It is that same occasion which leaves me promising to never to let that much time pass again. Yet then, the ticks tock and the pace resumes, full-speed once more and I can only hope that I am able to pull myself back from the race, much sooner than before, to linger in new moments with those I hold so dear.

This is especially true of family, as well as friends and acquaintances (new or old). Luckily, (long) overdue family gatherings usually require the involvement of food. At my Dad and Linda’s house, the food is never less than exceptional, in a comfortably casual, yet civilized and celebratory way.

I can hardly believe that the last time I had been to visit my Father was over a decade ago. We had all gathered at his place in Mexico (quite the hacienda) for a true Fiesta in celebration of the christening of my (then tiny) Nephew Alex. The (rather large) mariachi band still sings in my head as I recall those fond memories.

We had never been to their (somewhat new, to them) house in Arizona, yet when Tom and I went for dinner during our Easter weekend with my Mom, it felt like coming home. The house itself was nothing like the house we had grown up in in Alaska, but it had the convivial quality to it that the house in Anchorage had when I went home for Christmas every year during school. Back then, there were always dinner parties and entertaining, as there still are today, in whichever house they reside in at the time. The eclectic smattering of collected pieces of art, furniture, dishware and decoration, as well as the smells and sounds that erupted from the kitchen, all added to the warmth and comfort I felt when I was there.

This visit brought me back to that place of happy contentment. The moods were light and inviting. The house was unique, quirky and had character, just like my Dad and Linda.

There was a heavy Spanish influence to the architecture and a wonderful connection of outdoor courtyards to indoor living spaces.

The yard had not had much tending to yet (so says Dad), but the abundant olive trees provided lush shelter from the street, and the native growth firmly held their place in the landscape as a stunning foreground to the mountainous sky. There was more rosemary growing around one of the trees than I could imagine using in a lifetime; how I wish I could grow one good shrub, even a fraction of that scale.

Many birds had taken up residence, to which my Dad happily encouraged. We needed to be quiet in the front by the fountain so as not to disturb the nest of quail.

(shhh…quiet please)

Cracked terra cotta pots and well-placed lanterns all lended to the easy vibe; several outdoor spaces, all directly accessible from the house, made for happy discovery moving from room to room.

PS_dining table

The bar was open as we arrived and stayed open until well after Linda went to bed. We talked and reminisced, filled in missing bits and stayed up long past bedtime, sipping on the nectar from a bottle of Maker’s 46.

the bar

PS_tom and dad in living room 2 The boys discussing the adjacent courtyard fountain renovation.

But first…let there be lamb!

Yogurt and lemon-roasted Leg of Lamb with herbaceous pesto

I tend to go for lamb chops or rack of when I order or cook lamb; similar to opting for the tenderloin of beef rather than a delectably fatty rib-eye or lusciously large T-bone.

Linda does the leg… and has always done it well. This was no exception.

In fact, rack or tenderloin be damned. This was flavorful, tender and AMAZING!

Her delicious marinade of balsamic vinegar, garlic, rosemary and red wine had been replaced with lemon juice and plain yogurt; garlic plus rosemary still in tow. A platter of grilled eggplant plus asparagus went perfectly with the gratin of potato and aioli with which they were served.

The marinade and pesto were adapted from Food and Wine. The pesto called for hemp seed but Linda used pistachio, which worked perfectly. I happened to have a bag of raw, shelled hemp seed as a sample from IFBC so I gave that a try. Yum!

INGREDIENTS

2 1/2 lb bone-in lamb leg

6 cloves garlic, minced (3 TB)
1/4 cup lemon juice
1/2 cup plain, full-fat yogurt
1/4 cup fresh-squeezed orange juice
A splash of bubbly (if you have some open)
1 TB Dijon

Pesto for saucing (recipe to follow)

A nice size bouquet of fresh herbs (rosemary, oregano, thyme)
1/2 tsp kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper, plus a drizzle of olive oil over rubbed lamb

Prepare

Rinse and pat dry the lamb. Use the best quality you can afford; it will make a difference.

Combine the marinade ingredients, garlic through dijon, in a metal bowl or Ziploc freezer bag.

Add the lamb and season with sea salt, fresh pepper and a drizzle of olive oil. Seal it up and let marinated for a night or a day; whatever time you might have.

Transfer the lamb and marinade to a baking dish. Cook, uncovered in an oven set to 375-degrees.

Cook, uncovered, for approximately 1 1/4 hours. An instant-read thermometer should measure at 135F.

Herbacious Pesto

I never really measure things when I make pesto; it is a touch and feel sort of affair; or rather mix and taste. I grabbed a big mix of herbs from my pots (oregano mostly, plus a little basil and some thyme).

In a mortar with a pestle, smash a clove of garlic into paste then squeeze in a little lemon juice. Add the herbs (cleaned, dried and stems somewhat removed) and gently grind them into the garlic forming a green paste.

Add in some raw, shelled hemp seeds (or pistachios) and grind into the mix. I used about 1 TB. Add more lemon juice to get it flowing and a little drizzle of olive oil too. Perhaps some salt might be needed but I didn’t bother.

No cheese for this one; it really isn’t needed.

You can always use a food processor and if making a large batch, it is probably more efficient. In this case, add all but the olive oil and puree. Drizzle olive oil in with the machine running until it is of a consistency that looks right.

(insert picture from Dad here; oh wait, I can’t, he hasn’t answered my request yet…maybe later?)

Because I’m a procrastinator on posting, an update from Dad on the pair of Gamel quail that built the nest in the middle of their courtyard flower bed.: “They have successfully produce a large covey of 16 baby quail for whom I have been throwing out bird seed and filling small containers of water each day. I have been enjoying watching them, darting all over while the father stands on the wall edge of the fountain and keeps an eye out for their safety. The mother stays on the ground with her babies showing them where to peck and where to move. They all run back to the nest whenever they spot any movement by us. The babies are such tiny creatures and appear to be on jet skis.”

Too cute.

We’re gonna have roast… (pheasant)

19 Sunday Apr 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in family gatherings, the kitchen

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

Bugs Bunny, food writing, roast pheasant, roast pheasant + wild rice soup, wild rice recipe

To the tune of “We’re gonna have roast wabbit” by Bugs Bunny

An annual hunting trip by Grandpa George and John, brought back many pheasant, a la Elmer Fudd.

I personally am not a fan of hunting but am a fan of eating (including meat), so perhaps I am a hypocrite?

Well, I guess that might be true.

Between the two of them, a few birds made their way back to their freezers.

By way of Easter weekend in Arizona, with Mom and John (plus a lovely evening on the side with Dad and Linda), Tom and I were the lucky recipient of a home-cooked pheasant dinner.

I love poultry, but am, admittedly, not an expert in the way of cooking pheasant. I can put out a tasty meal involving quail and have been known to cook squab, now and again. I often roast chicken but prefer grilling a split, poussin under a brick. Duck is something I also roast; usually just the legs, the breast takes on a quick sear followed by about 7 minutes in the pan. I have tackled cornish hen, but not for a while, yet I should consider doing this more often. I have never actually cooked a Christmas goose and to my recollection have never eaten pheasant, let alone roasted one.

So when my Mom suggested we prepare pheasant for dinner the night after we arrived in Arizona, I was… slightly skeptical.

I had visions of a gamey, tough bird that was akin to the wild duck we used to eat after Grandpa’s duck hunting trips when I was young (absolutely no offense meant, but at the time, I was not the biggest fan of those meals).

I left the preparation of the pheasant in my Mom’s capable hands, who in turn, looked to inspiration from her Grandma.

The kitchen smells were mesmerizing as the pheasant roasted and as we sat down to the table (outside, in the warm, dry air looking at the beautiful, mountainous sky), I became a fan of pheasant!

The pheasant was dripping in moisture and bathed in succulent flavor. The wild rice provided a toothy texture to the silken meat and the cranberry sauce was a happy splash of cool refreshing fruit, even though it still resembled the can it came from; you can take the girl from Alaska but you can’t take Alaska out of the girl (I’m talking about you Mom).

…and so, with that, I give you, Roast Pheasant, in my Mom’s words: PS_cooking pot

Roasted Wild Pheasant by Patricia (AKA Mom)

“Because my grandma cooked wild birds this way, I wouldn’t mess with tradition or success; however there are a few slight embellishments. Note that our birds were skinned so I had to be careful not to dry them out.

Check carefully for any remaining b-b shots and soak a little while in salt water.

Place a carrot, quarter of an onion, and a quarter of an apple in the belly and place birds breast side up in a roasting pan.

Splash a little cherry balsamic on top then completely cover the birds with bacon strips. Add a little red wine to the pan.

Cook at 400-degrees for 10 minutes then cover and reduce heat to 300. Cook about 1.5 to 2 hours till tender.

Serve with a wild rice pilaf and cranberry sauce.

——-

In my quest to use up leftovers I made the following and it was yummy:

Dice leftover pheasant meat and place in a mixing bowl (I had about a cup of meat).

Add the following:

3 T diced sweet onion

1 small apple diced (or about 1/2 c sliced grapes or 1/4 c dried cranberries)

2 stalks celery, diced

1/2 cup chopped nuts 1/2 tsp curry mixed into about 1/2 cup mayo

Mix all ingredients and use enough mayo to make the mixture moist and creamy.

Serve on sweet crackers (Rain Coast or Trader Joes’) as an appetizer, on greens as a salad, or in a sandwich”.

…now back to me (Stacey):

After our dinner, there were a few leftovers.

Leftover wild rice pilaf, leftover green beans and leftover pheasant, not to mention the bones from which the pheasant came, still sporting a bit of meat.

I did what any respectable person would do; I made soup.

The roasting pan was still pretty full of liquid to which I added a little more water. I removed any remaining bits of meat from the bones and tossed them into the pot as I tossed the bones into the trash.

I removed the apple, carrots and onion from the pot and chopped them, returning them back to the pot in a smaller form. I then dumped in the remaining rice, the left over green beans I had prepared for dinner (after dicing them) along with some chopped celery and a few diced tomatoes.

I splashed in some cherry balsamic vinegar, squeezed in the juice of one lemon (from the tree outside), sprinkled in some kosher salt + ground pepper and set the pot to simmer for a few hours as we cleaned up and finished our wine.

We didn’t eat the soup the next day, because it was Easter, but Tom and I downed a quick cup of the soup before heading to the airport the next day. We were quite pleased with the results.

John sent us away with one pheasant to cook back home (luck, lucky, lucky us). So I decided to try and recreate our meal (minus the cranberry can, green beans and warm, dry weather).

Here are my notes to Mom’s above:

What she said, (+)plus, my two cents:

I used 1 cup red wine.

I used a whole apple plus a half.

I did not put them in the belly but just wherever they fit (which goes for the onion and carrot too). 20 minutes at 400-degrees because I had thicker bacon wrapped around than Mom and wanted to get it to brown a bit before turning the oven down.

Pomegranate molasses plus regular balsamic vinegar stood in for the cherry balsamic vinegar. I also added 1 TB Dijon mustard.

To serve: I cut the meat away from the bone and laid it on top of the wild rice.

The wild rice was cooked in a rice maker.

To the rice, I added 1 stalk chopped celery, 1/4 finely diced apple, a handful of chopped, raw almonds.

I also added about 10 chopped, cooked crimini mushrooms.

The drippings in the pan are lovely ladled over top of the bird.

Deebuhdeebuhdee, that’s all folks!

snouty-pride-thats-not-all-folks-snoutypig
Looney Tunes content copyright Warner Bros Studios, thanks for the memories!

A zen moment

11 Saturday Apr 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in at the holidays, Breakfast/Brunch, family gatherings

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Easter, lemon cake, lemon curd, lemon curd cake, moments of zen, recipes

Sometimes, life happens around us. We are there too, experiencing the life but not participating in it, other than observing. I am looking out at the Arizona sky, from Grandpa’s backyard. The wind is whipping warmly across my face and I am an observer rather than a participant. For this moment I am zoning out the requirements of life. The cooking temperatures or timing. The dry or moist feel of my skin. The lizard that may be crawling toward my leg. I am unaware of the savory waft of smells from the kitchen. These smells, I set in motion. Subconsciously, they add to this moment of zen. This zen that is now. I breathe in the air. Through my nose. I release through my mouth. Thanks to Cristina for teaching me this life altering move. All of the noise is shut out…momentarily (seconds, or minutes or for whatever you make time). I actually see the beauty, not just hear about the beauty. I feel it on my skin. I smell it wildly tickling my nose.

As quickly as I allow it to begin, it ends. And off I go to make sure the kitchen is not burning. Make sure the food is happy. The people are eager to partake.

Lemon curd cake

This cake is dense and slightly dry without a nice spread of lemon curd on top. It is based off of a rosemary olive oil cake that I love to make, but I changed it up to try and utilize as many lemons as I could from my Grandfather’s plentiful lemon trees. There is little fat or sweetener in the cake, but the curd makes up for the lack of fat with its wealth of egg yolk and butter. It makes for a light dessert, a “zen moment” mid-day snack, or a prelude to brunch.

The lemon curd will keep a week or two, covered tightly, in the fridge (if you don’t use it all up on the cake). You can add fresh strawberries, cooked into the center, or leave it plain. Either way, it is best warmed, then sliced and spread with a healthy layer of the lemon curd, which unless short of time, you hopefully have made

INGREDIENTS

1/2 cup reserved lemon curd batter – recipe follows
2 TB honey
1 egg yolk
2 oz goat cheese (chèvre)
1/3 cup milk (or yogurt)
5 egg whites (4 reserved from the lemon curd and 1 from this cake)
1/4 cup olive oil
1 TB chopped fresh rosemary
2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp kosher salt

10 strawberries, diced (optional)
Lemon curd for glazing

PREPARE

Combine the uncooked lemon curd, honey and egg yolk. It is best to use an electric mixer for several minutes.

Add the milk and goat cheese. Continue to beat the mixture until creamy; a few minutes more.

In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff. Stir into the yolk mixture then add the olive oil and blend with the mixer until well combined. Stir in the rosemary.

In a separate bowl, combine the dry ingredients.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet, slowly mixing it in 1/2 cup at a time.

For a moister cake, you can add in the cooked lemon curd, reserving 1/4 cup to spread on the top and on the cut slices for serving.

Butter 1 loaf pan (or two mini-loaf pans) and pour in the batter. If using the strawberries, pour in half the batter then add the berries. Pour in the remaining batter.

Cook for approximately 30 minutes at 350 or until a toothpick poked in the center comes away clean.

Brush some lemon curd over the top and let cook another 5 minutes.

Let it cool slightly in the pan. Turn it onto a rack.

Serve warm, sliced, slathered with lemon curd…and perhaps, a cup of tea or a crisp glass of Albariño.

Lemon Curd

House-made lemon curd is far more delicious than that from a jar. I like mine on the tart side so I use just enough honey to keep me from crinkling my nose. Leftovers can be used to spread over your morning toast instead of jam, or an english muffin and a slice of ham.

I used freshly-picked lemons from the lemon trees outside my Grandpa’s house in Tucson during our Easter weekend with my Mom. They were large and juicy and produced thick zest. Oh how I wish I could grow a lemon tree!

INGREDIENTS

4 egg yolks (whites reserved for cake above or another use)
1/4 cup honey
The juice of 4 large lemons (approximately 1/2 cup) plus their zest
1 stick of butter

PREPARE

Bring some water to simmer in the bottom of a double boiler; it should not be able to touch the saucepan that sits on top.

Using an electric mixer, in the saucepan of the double boiler (or in a stainless steel bowl), beat the egg yolk and honey together until smooth.

Add in the lemon juice and zest, continuing to mix.

Set the saucepan over the simmering water in it’s counter-pan and whisk briskly until the batter becomes pale yellow and smoothly cooked, 6-8 minutes.

Turn off the heat and whisk in the butter, 1 TB at a time, as if making a butter sauce.

Transfer to a clean jar or container and cover tightly once cooled.

It’s all zen until you come across a little prick…

but when life gives you lemons, make lemon curd!

10 Legs in the Kitchen

~ Cook. Eat. Write

Category Archives: family gatherings

Potato, Po-taw-ta, Tomato, Tom-aw-ta

Old Fashion(ed) holiday cheer!

Smoked Meats (and tangy drinks)

The “Family” game

Sweet 16 & always been kissed, by Ginger & Buddy

60!

“Fly” Fishing

Time Passes

We’re gonna have roast… (pheasant)

A zen moment