Baby, It's (Still) Cold Outside!

It’s been unseasonably cool here this early May. I had to dig out the gloves I’d put away for the summer. I thought I was being organized and efficient; now I have upset boxes. I had to cover my newly planted vegetable garden and drape sheets over the last of the lilacs, just to savor a few more days of fragrance.

But that’s okay. The cool weather gives me another good reason to cook cozy comfort food, one of my favorite pasta dishes, one I never make in the summer. My sausage-pepper fettuccini is a simple, quick, mildly-spiced, creamy-saucy dish that ranks right up there with pasta carbonerra for me. That it happens to be my husband’s favorite just gives me another great excuse to make it. Forget about the fact that we’re both trying to shed a few pounds before an upcoming vacation. Who can think about shorts and tanks when it’s 35 degrees outside?

So while we start a fire to burn the last of the indoor firewood, I start to warm up the kitchen with a pot of boiling water and set about chopping the veggies, with Siriusly Sinatra crooning in the background. A bottle of wine is definitely in order.  This is a very colorful and, of course, rich pasta dish.  (I had only spaghetti in the pantry that day; better with fettucini.)

Mangia! Buon appetito!


Sausage-Pepper Fettuccini

½ pound sweet Italian sausage
½ cup butter
1 cup green pepper, cut into medium sized squares
1 cup red pepper, cut into medium sized squares
1 small onion, sliced thinly
1/2 teaspoon dried basil
½ teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon dried thyme (or use all fresh, if you can!) 
1 clove (or more!) garlic, minced
1 cup half-and-half
12 oz. fettuccini noodles, cooked and drained
½ cup (or more!) grated parmesan – the real stuff

Remove casing from sausage, if necessary, and break into small pieces. In large skillet over medium heat, cook sausage until done. Remove from skillet. In same skillet, over medium high heat, melt the butter and add the pepper, onion, garlic and seasonings. Cook 3-5 minutes, keeping the vegetables crisp tender. Stir in sausage and half-and-half and cook until heated through. Toss with hot fettuccine and mix in cheese. Makes 4 to 6 servings. (Leftovers make a great frittata.)

A Gift of Tahini

A very heavy box came in the mail a couple days before my birthday. It was from my daughter in Florida. To send this heavy box to Pennsylvania cost her, I knew. That it was early was, well, not typical. But the real surprise was what was inside.

She’d made a little game of this package. She put instructions inside the box that told me to be sure and open the little packages in their numbered order. Each wrapped package had a number and a little note. There were nine.

First there was hoisin sauce: “Can’t pronounce it, but I know you like it.” Then some plum sauce, duck sauce, and a can of sardines, one of anchovies. The label on the sardines said, “These are just weird, so they had your name on them.” Then there were bean threads, cellophane noodles and arborio rice. The piece de resistance, the last but not least was tahini: “Just what you always wanted, Mom! Happy birthday!”

You see, as much as I enjoy our country life, from time to time, I get a little frustrated at not being able to find some ingredients I want at our local grocery stores, at least when I want, or when making something like hummus, for instance, is on my mind. And I don’t think far ahead enough to order things online or when I’m in the city (which is rare, by the way.) So when Amy asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I told her I wanted her to get me some of those kinds of things to stock my pantry.

I’d really forgotten about telling her that until the package came. I called her right away and she told me what a ball she had shopping in a grocery store for my birthday present. She’s out of her element, buying this kind of stuff, so she had a friend along to guide her on this foreign mission, thank heaven.

Because I couldn’t be with my distant daughter yesterday, Mother’s Day, I decided I would make my hummus with the tahini she gave me a few months ago – just a little way to feel closer to her. And even though mothers aren’t supposed to be cooking on Mother’s Day, I decided this wasn’t really cooking – I was just indulging my hobby.

I set about making the hummus. It was a semi-spontaneous decision. A couple days before, I bought dried chickpeas at the store. I had soaked them the day before and then, on a whim, decided I would try roasting them instead of boiling them. It was like eating nuts!

I wasn’t sure if the roasted beans would be the same as canned as I made the hummus, since none of the recipes I looked at suggested roasting first. But the hummus was just great; it may have taken a little longer to puree in the food processor than canned beans would take, but it worked fine and did indeed imbue a nice, nutty flavor to the hummus.

So thanks again for the birthday present, Amy! It helped to make a nice Mother’s Day, too!


Roasted Red Pepper Hummus
1 cup chickpeas, or garbanzo beans
2 large cloves garlic
4 T lemon juice
4 T tahini paste
2 T olive oil
Water, as needed
½ t salt
¼ t black pepper
1 t cumin
Shake (or two) of crushed red pepper
Several drops sriracha sauce
2- 3 pieces large pieces of roasted red pepper, from jar

Place chickpeas, garlic cloves, lemon juice, tahini and olive oil in food processor bowl. Mix until well-blended, about five minutes, adding water as needed to make texture as creamy as desired. Add seasonings. Roughly chop red pepper, add to mixture and pulse a few times, leaving some red chunks of pepper visible. Refrigerate several hours before serving to allow flavors to meld. (Ideally served with homemade pita chips!)

PBJ and Beer

Last weekend, we went to a beer tasting party hosted by a young couple who don’t live too far from us. It was their Third Annual Beer Fest and they’re making it a “first Saturday in May” tradition, just like the Kentucky Derby. The host and a friend got into making “home brew” a few years ago, and they’ve gotten pretty good at it! They tapped six or seven of their own kegs.

They named them all -- typically, I can’t remember a one of them – and they posted descriptions of each variety and what made them unique. I didn’t sample all of them; in this case, I don’t really think variety is the spice of life. I sampled an oatmeal stout and a honey beer, but my favorite was what they said was the “hoppiest.”

It’s a potluck party and I always see this as an opportunity to try something new. My husband thinks I should stick with tried and true faves. So my compromise was a twist on something everyone loves: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I made Peanut Butter and Jelly Cookie bars.

I decided on this a couple days before the party when I happened to catch Ina Garten, aka The Barefoot Contessa, on the Food Network. I don’t watch cooking shows nearly as often as I’d like and I haven’t yet cultivated the good habit of setting the DVR to a couple favorites. And the only reason I was watching TV at all in the middle of the day was because I was catching up on my least favorite domestic duty – ironing. And The Barefoot Contessa was providing me company while I wrestled with wrinkles.

Truth is, I didn’t really like Ina Garten’s show when I first saw it. Could have been something as silly as I didn’t like the intro music. But I really like the show now and I love Ina’s style. She’s pretty low key, loves to use fresh ingredients, often combined in new ways and she’s a great teacher. An experienced cook won’t be offended by her instruction, which she often delivers as an off-handed hint, and the novice can learn an awful lot.

And Peanut Butter and Jelly Bars were on the menu that day. I stopped ironing (what a relief!)and paid attention. I made the cookies the morning of the party, sampled one, decided they were pretty good and took them as my contribution. They didn’t move at first, which had me worried, but then they disappeared. Someone found out that I had brought them and then I got compliments. And that’s the main reason we cook, right? Just to make something good that people like.

Peanut Butter and Jelly BarsFrom Ina Garten

1/2 pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 extra-large eggs, at room temperature
2 cups (18 ounces) creamy peanut butter (recommended: Skippy)
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 1/2 cups (18 ounces) raspberry jam or other jam
2/3 cups salted peanuts, coarsely chopped

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Grease a 9 by 13 by 2-inch cake pan. Line it with parchment paper, then grease and flour the pan.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar on medium speed until light yellow, about 2 minutes. With the mixer on low speed, add the vanilla, eggs, and peanut butter and mix until all ingredients are combined.

In a small bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt. With the mixer on low speed, slowly add the flour mixture to the peanut butter mixture. Mix just until combined.

Spread 2/3 of the dough into the prepared cake pan and spread over the bottom with a knife or offset spatula. Spread the jam evenly over the dough. Drop small globs of the remaining dough evenly over the jam. Don't worry if all the jam isn't covered; it will spread in the oven.

Sprinkle with chopped peanuts and bake for 45 minutes, until golden brown. Cool and cut into squares.

"To Die For" Blueberry Muffins?

I’m always more than just a little suspicious of anything labeled anything superlative: the world’s best, finest, greatest, even Macy’s “lowest prices of the season.” It just gets over-used, that’s all. Loses its oomph. So if you think you’ve had the “best ever” meatballs and one day somebody comes along with an even better meatball, what are you going to call it?

I have an especially hard time warming up to something described as “most unique,” as in “The sauce had the most unique flavor.” Unique means one-of-a-kind, so it’s either unique, or it’s not; there are no varying degrees of uniqueness. You could describe what makes it unique, like a woodsy flavor or a creamy texture. A little picky, I know, but I tend to get that way with words. I should lighten up. After all, it’s all in the eyes of the beholder or the tastebuds of the taster.

So, it was with a bit of skepticism that I approached this “To Die For Blueberry Muffin” recipe. I know, of course, that none of us take these “to die for” descriptions literally. Who’s really going to “die” for a muffin, after all? It’s just an expression that’s meant to convey how good it is. You’d have this for your last meal. Then again, you and I probably have very different ideas about what that last meal would be. Let’s not go there.

We’ve all read many a description of “to die for” this-or-that, or – even worse –“better-than-sex.” And while they may be good, even very good, it’s hard to attach “the very best of the best” label to much. You have to add superlatives to the superlatives.

Back to the muffins. They are good. They are very, very good. They are very, very, very good. I have never met anyone who didn’t like them. I rest my case.

I made these last week for a group of men who came to stay overnight at a little camp we have near our house. After making the beds with fresh sheets and putting clean towels in the bathroom, I left a box of these muffins as a breakfast treat. They returned the box empty.

These are big muffins, topped with a great (was that a superlative?) streusel. You’ll like them. They are the best I’ve tried yet! Really.

To Die For Blueberry Muffins
from Allrecipes.com, submitted by Colleen

1 ½ C all-purpose flour
¾ cup white sugar
½ t salt
2 t baking powder
1/3 C vegetable oil
1 egg
1/3 C milk
1 C fresh blueberries (I used frozen; I have so many, I gotta use them!)

Streusel
½ c white sugar
1/3 C all-purpose flour
¼ C butter, cubed
1 ½ t ground cinnamon

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Grease muffin tins or use liners.
Combine 1 ½ cups flour ¾ cups sugar, salt and baking powder. Place vegetable oil in a 1 cup measure; add egg and enough milk to make 1 cup. Mix this into the flour mixture. Gently fold in the blueberries. Fill 8 muffin cups right to the top, and sprinkle with streusel.
Streusel: Mix together ½ cup sugar, 1/3 cup flour, 1/3 cup cubed butter and 1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon. Mix with fork and sprinkle over muffins before baking.
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes in preheated oven, until done.

Kale As a Snack? You Betcha!

We were in a grocery store together last fall when my sister said to me, “Hey! Let’s split a bunch of kale and make potato chips!”

“Make what?” I asked. I have a bit of a hearing problem but I thought I heard her say potato chips from kale.

“Potato chips,” she said again. I did hear her right. “Well, not exactly potato chips, but just like them. I just read this article in a magazine about them. You break up the kale and bake it and it’s a great snack. No calories!”

Kale. The word conjures up no pleasant memories. I may have eaten kale once or twice in my life, maybe in a soup, certainly not by its lonesome. And I know I never bought it to cook at home. As adventurous an eater as I like to think myself, that’s one good-for-me vegetable I’ve not shined up to.

Worth a shot. We broke a bunch of kale in two at the checkout. A bunch of celery, too. Just like two little old ladies living alone.

We happened to be at a grocery store together only because we were seeking sanctuary from a deluge that marred the ordinarily very pleasant fall festival in Franklin, Pa., called Applefest. My sister and I live about 60 miles from each other and Franklin is a good half-way meeting point for us. It had been raining all morning and we were getting weary of dodging umbrellas and just being more than a little wet. But instead of ducking into a coffee shop for a break, we chose to, first, go to the library ($1 book sale!) then, to finish our day, window shopping in a grocery store, the same as we would have at the craft booths at the festival, just to see if this store had anything new and different from our “home” grocery stores.

So we each went home with our parcel of kale.

The directions were so simple, my sister had already memorized them. When I got home, I made them. Wow! She was right! It was uncanny! They really did taste, if not exactly like a potato chip, very much like the salty, crunchy snack I so often want. And to think they really are healthy!

When I talked to my sister several days later and asked if she liked her “kale chips” as much as I did, she sheepishly said that she’d let her bunch sit too long and she had to toss it. I assured her, though, that she had a great idea and she had to try them.

In the past few weeks, I have seen a couple food bloggers talk about kale chips, so I got the urge to try them again. And I think they were even better the second time around. I was singing their praises all last weekend. I have to admit, people look at me skeptically at first, then attentively as I described the process. One friend – a fierce bread and potato lover -- was particularly interested because he has been a faithful Atkins dieter for months and was growing a gnawing craving for something just like this.

So here’s how to make them. (They don’t store particularly well; all the more reason to eat ‘em up!)

Baked Kale Chips
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Wash and thoroughly dry one bunch of kale. Remove the stems and thick stalks and tear into bite size pieces (think chips!). Toss torn kale in very large bowl or pot with 1 tablespoon olive oil and 1 teaspoon kosher salt. Spread out on baking sheets without crowding them. Bake for about 8 to 10 minutes. Make sure they’re crisp and just beginning to brown at the edges. Cooking too long will make the kale bitter.

(I’ve also read people put Parmesan cheese on the chips, too.)

A Conquistador’s Feast – Salmon, Risotto, Spinach, Oh My!

Last week, I went to The Grotto, a student run restaurant at Mercyhurst College, in Erie, Pennsylvania. My nephew -- my sister’s only son -- is a hospitality management major there and he was General Manager at the restaurant that evening. It was his final exam. For what it's worth, I gave him an “A.”

The course is Food Management III, his last “foods” course. He’s graduating in a few weeks, and after that, he’s planning – at least at this point – to go back to Las Vegas, to Caesar’s Palace, where he interned last summer. He’s really not all that interested in restaurant management or food preparation. (Except the eating part.) He likes the business side and the guest relations aspects better.

But he sure managed his "Food Final" well. His job was to develop the menu, plan for its preparation, and oversee the meal preparation and serving. Managing with him were two other students, a service manager and a kitchen manager. But Chris’s job that evening was to boss it all. In the kitchen, he needed to oversee portion control, plating, weighing items to prepare for cost analysis later. In the dining room, he needed to make sure that the student servers were doing their job, too. And as many a restaurant owner may need to do, he jumped right in to refresh water or provide coffee refills.

The assignment was to theme their meal and Chris named his Spanish-inspired fare The Conquistador’s Feast. Planning a menu isn’t often easy for the home cook. To take a family meal and multiply it exponentially for people you don’t know would be a real challenge for me. I’m thinking I would get surly.

Chris’s menu had all the elements of meal planning balance my mother taught me: a mix of color and texture, protein, starch, vegetable. Something sweet, something salty. And it was pretty! It’s just that the students had to make it pretty a hundred times over!

In case you can’t read his pretty menu card that was a favor for all the diners-- paying guests I should add -- we started with a Cucumber Melon Gazpacho. It tasted good, but I’ve never been a big fan of cold soups. The garnish of shrimp made all the difference to me. The main course was a sweet-sauced grilled salmon -- Orange-Agave Glazed Salmon. It was a light sweet sauce, balanced by the citrus. The sides were Saffron Rice and simple Sautéed Spinach. We had an ice cream dessert – Caramelized Pears with Dulce de Leche Ice Cream. The cookies in the picture weren’t an original part of the menu, but they took it to the top. They were buttery almond-flavored cookies that almost dissolved in your mouth as you bit into them. Very good. Everything on the menu displayed its Spanish influence. Chris even made sure some subtle Spanish style music was in the background.

Cooking risotto is time consuming, a tad tedious. Risotto is supposed to be a creamy rice dish that gets its creaminess from slow cooking the arborio rice, standing at the stove, stirring constantly for twenty minutes, adding small amounts of hot broth at a time, letting each addition absorb before you add more. If you don't do it just right, you might get it sticky, not creamy.

How they do that in a restaurant is a secret I don’t think many would be willing to share. A microwave?

Some time ago, I learned to make risotto in the microwave. The microwave isn’t the ideal way to cook a lot of things. Popcorn, of course. It’s great for cooking fresh vegetables. And surprisingly, it’s really quite effective for risotto. I got the recipe from a cookbook called “The Microwave Gourmet,” by Barbara Kafka. She wrote the book in 1987, and it remains a staple, the best cookbook ever on microwaves, in my estimation. A well-established, well-respected food writer, primarily in The New York Times, and cookbook author, she confesses in the preface to the microwave cookbook, that she was sheepish when she told her esteemed “foodie” friends that she was writing a cookbook devoted to the microwave. She herself was hesitant, but after a couple experiments, curiosity got the better of her it seems, and off she went to create a classic.

I doubt the Mercyhurst students prepared risotto this way, but after trying it once, standing at the stove stirring constantly, no matter how traditional it is, doesn’t sound so attractive in comparison.

The Grotto must be one of the best-kept secrets in Erie. What a great way to have interesting food, a night out, with anxious-to-please students serving you-- all at a very reasonable price! Best wishes to all Mercyhurst's graduating hospitality management students. (Especially, you, of course, Chris.)

About the ingredients:
Arborio rice is the only kind of rice to use to make a creamy risotto. Regular or converted rice just doesn’t have the same starchy quality. The good news is that while Arborio used to be too exotic for grocery stores in the boonies, it’s readily available these days. As are jasmine rice, and basmati rice. I wish my husband liked rice better.

Saffron is probably the most expensive spice one can buy, but you need precious little of it and it does give a distinctive taste and color to dishes. Buy threads not powder, though. (You’ll see what a thread is when you look at them if you’re not familiar with the spice.) Saffron, too, is available right here in my back yard, although I did buy mine through Penzey’s.

Saffron RisottoFrom Barbara Kafka’s "The Microwave Gourmet"
1 T unsalted butter
1 T olive oil
½ C minced onion
4 cloves garlic, peeled and minced (optional)
1 C Arborio rice
4 C chicken broth
1 cup dry white wine
16 threads saffron
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat butter and oil in a 10 inch quiche dish, uncovered, at 100% power. Cook onion and garlic for 4 minutes. Add rice and cook for 4 minutes more. Add broth, wine and saffron and cook for 9 minutes. Stir and cook for 9 minutes more. Remove from oven and add salt & pepper.

Serves 6 as a side dish.

Angel Food Crunch for My Angel: Happy Birthday, Amy!

Today is my daughter’s birthday. She’s 27. (She says she’s starting to feel old; imagine how I feel!)

I have to step back now and again to realize that she is indeed a grown woman. She owns her own house, has a thriving career as a real estate agent, a nice IRA growing, a happy circle of friends, a love life with its ups and downs, a Miata I’d trade my beloved VW for, and an adorable Yorkshire terrier named Ollie. And parents who love her to pieces. The only trouble is, she lives in Florida, and we’re in Pennsylvania, and there’s just no way that I can see her enough. Thank god for phone and e-mail and cheap flights (now and again.)

I hope she’s having a great birthday, that her Facebook friends are showering her with messages today, that she gets flowers and has the perfect dinner date. Can’t wait to hear all about it.

To celebrate her birthday at home, I made her favorite cake. She’s loved this fun cake ever since she tasted it probably 15 years ago or more. And Aunt Liz was kind enough to share the recipe with me. I’m the first to admit I’m no baker, so I’m always a little hesitant to say, “I’ll make a cake (or cookies or bread.)” But this one is pretty easy; it can still fall or get heavy, but it has so many goodies in it, even if it’s dense, it’s tasty.

The grandkids visited over the weekend, so everyone got a piece, everyone but Amy. We sang a little Happy Birthday to Amy and took a picture. (Just didn’t have any candles.)

Have a great birthday, Amy! I love you, all the way to the ends of the earth and back again. And back again, and back again . . . . .

Angel Food Crunch Cake

1 box angel food cake mix
1 4 ounce jar maraschino cherries
1 jar colored sprinkles (save ¼ cup for topping)
¾ cup chopped pecans
1 12 ounce container Cool Whip

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Use the juice from the cherries and enough water to make 1 1/3 cups. Blend with dry cake mix. Beat 1 minute. Add chopped cherries, nuts and sprinkles to batter. Gently fold with spatula to incorporate. Pour into greased tube pan. Gently cut through batter to remove air bubbles. Bake 45 to 50 minutes. Immediately invert pan on rack. Cool completely. Use Cool Whip to ice cake. Sprinkle with reserved sprinkles. Keep refrigerated.