My mother recently acquired a plant from a hippie gardening cult in Portland, Oregon—these are my roots, people, proud of em—and she named it after me: “Rachie.” Why? I have no idea.
Then she said it looked like a Lord of the Rings plant, cunning and mischievous “like it might organize all the other plants for a yard game with prizes.” Now that’s me.
Maybe Mom can use the Rachie plant as a model for all the hats she will knit to cover my wild locks because it’s getting cold out here. The chickens need bonnets too, Mom.
4 medium potatoes (about 2 lbs.), peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
5 ribs celery, chopped
5 carrots, peeled and chopped
2 TB olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup water
2 cups white wine (I used old pinot grigio)
2 tsp celery seed
1 tsp cayenne
1 tsp salt, to taste
1 tsp fresh ground pepper, to taste
6 Cups milk, divided (I used 2%)
2 TB cornstarch
1 ½ Cups corn kernels
6 pieces bacon, cooked crisp and broken in pieces
In a skillet, sauté the onion and garlic until translucent and beginning to caramelize. In a medium soup pot (uncovered) over medium-high heat, cook the potatoes, celery, carrots, garlic and onions in water and white wine until tender and the liquid has mostly cooked off, about 15-20 minutes. Stir frequently.
Add celery seed, cayenne, salt and pepper and stir well. Add 5 3/4 cups milk and stir well, reserving 1/4 cup in a small bowl. To the reserved milk, add the cornstarch and mix until all lumps are gone; slowly pour into the soup while stirring. Heat the soup until near boiling, stirring constantly, for 1-2 minutes until the soup starts to thicken, then reduce heat to medium-low. Add the corn and bacon. Let cook 10 minutes. Great with oyster crackers, or rye bread, or curly hair.
We avoid what we fear. That is why I have allowed two kohlrabis to lurk in my refrigerator for two weeks, snickering together like little green alien heads would if left to their own. And, because I stir fry in ginger and garlic what I would rather not taste, I did a little ditty today with these kohlrabis. Who is snickering now?
Stir-Fried Kohlrabis and Greens with Ginger, Soy and Oyster Sauce
2 kohlrabis, stalks removed
11 -14 ounces mixed Chinese greens — bok choy, Chinese broccoli (gai larn), baby spinach, Napa cabbage in a pinch
1 shallot, sliced fine
3 tablespoons walnut oil
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1/2 tablespoon thinly sliced ginger
4 scallions, finely shredded
2 tablespoons oyster sauce
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 pinches of sugar
juice of 1 lime
salt and freshly ground black pepper
Directions
Remove any blemished outside stalks from the greens. Put the spinach to one side so that you can add it to the wok or pan at the last minute, as it cooks very quickly. Prepare the rest of the Chinese greens; i normally cut the Chinese broccoli into strips and the bok choy into quarters. Plunge the greens into boiling water for about 1 1/2 minutes until just tender, and drain well.
Put the oil, shallot, and ginger into a very large, hot wok or other suitable pan and cook for about 30 seconds. Add the scallions and chopped kohlrabi pieces and the rest of the ingredients apart from the seasoning. Stir, then add the greens and toss so that everything is coated in sauce.
The vegetables will sizzle and stir-fry. The oyster and soy sauce will reduce, just coating the greens. At this point season to taste. Stir-fry for a further minute and serve immediately. I fear nothing.
And now for one month of emergencies. I brought home the RED pager last night, still turned on. This is a most godawful device. An RSS feed of tragedy. For twenty minutes I let it chirp from my bag its stream of reports on the strokes and overdoses people were having around town. A twitter of doom. If I were at the hospital, I would be expected to find and help these people. But here at home it is only a foreshadowing of what I will be scrubbing into the next day. At the point when I could no longer stand to hear it, I wondered out loud to Karl-Peter with the RED pager beeping in my hand, “This must be an inkling of what God feels like. So painfully aware.” And then I did what God cannot; I turned off the thing crying out and went back to my pretending that bad things were not happening out there to strangers, a necessary suppression for the sake of dinner, and sleep. Thank you very much, had enough of that for tonight! I suppose God must also hold the other (infinite) pagers of babies born and 50th wedding anniversaries and children adopted and lotteries won. So maybe it all balances out. I still gladly agree with the simple reminder written on the Post-It note on the refrigerator in my childhood home, “There is a God. You are not Him.” I shall try to remind myself of this Post-It when I inevitably head down the Why road of questioning after one too many pages on one too many shifts.
Pane al Cinque Cereali con Noci
Five-Grain Bread with Walnuts
Adapted from The Italian Baker
1 ½ cups sourdough starter
3 cups water
3 ¾ cups white flour
1 ¼ cups oat flour
1 cup and 2 TB rye flour
1 cup and 1 TB wheat flour
¾ cup brown rice flour
1 heaping tablespoon of honey
1 generous TB salt
1 ¼ cups of shelled walnuts
Stir the starter into the water, add the honey, and slowly add the flours. Continue to knead and add the salt.
Continue to knead on a smooth surface for 8-10 minutes.
Form a ball and let it rise in an oiled bowl, covered, for about 2 hours.
After this time, take the dough out, punch it down, split it into two rounds and knead the nuts into, the dough making the folds while shaping. I chose to do a boule and a batard, with varied scoring on top.
Let rise again on parchment paper, covered with saran, for 1 hour and a half, until doubled.
Form cuts on the surface and bake in a preheated oven at 40-45 minutes with a pan of water in the oven to keep moisture. Cool on a rack.
This is the second time I have made kolache, but my first time ever working with quark outside of a particle physics context. Quark. I just love the word. So Anglo-Saxon, full of consonant and bark and spit. Seamus Heaney sort of gravel. The particle physicist who discovered and hence named the quark found the word in James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake—a book full of portmanteaus and allusions to drinking and neologisms, “Three quarks for Muster Mark!” And because quarks behave in threes, in a curiously spiritual sort of way, it fit. Quark cheese gets its name from a Middle German term, borrowed from Old Slavic, meaning “to form”—something about how when milk gets sour it forms something. Because of all these connections, I now think of quark as something of a holy, primordial cheese. Formed of the elements yet in always trinity, hm hm hm.
Moravian Kolaches for Theological Fermionic Bakers
Adapted from the Daring Bakers Forum Challenge from Chez Lucie (a Czech blog—translation required)
For the dough
500 g all-purpose (plain) flour
100 gm confectioner’s (icing) sugar
1 cup (250 ml) milk, warm
75 g butter, melted
100 g sourdough starter
pinch of salt
2 small egg yolks
For Pepper Ginger Quark filling
3 cups (1-2/3 lb) (750 gm) quark
½ cup ginger jam
½ cup Pam’s Pepper Jam
1 small egg yolk
confectioner’s (icing) sugar to taste
For Streusel Topping
50 g plain flour
¼ cup, 50 g butter, chilled and diced
50 g granulated sugar
For Finish
1 egg
In a bowl mix together sourdough and 1 teaspoon sugar with the warmed milk.
In a bowl, mix flour, sugar, salt, egg yolks, and butter with the sourdough starter. Knead for ten minutes. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise for about one hour to double its volume.
Meanwhile prepare quark filling – just mix all ingredients –and set aside.
Prepare streusel topping. In a medium bowl, mix together sugar, flour and cinnamon. Add cold butter diced in small cubes and with your fingers, mix all ingredients until crumbly. Set aside.
When the dough is risen turn it onto a lightly floured surface and roll it with rolling pin to a thickness of about 2 cm.
Cut circles with a glass or divide the dough into 10 equal pieces.
Fill each circle with quark filling.
Wrap it into a “purse” shape.
Preheat oven to moderate 340°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper. Put each kolache onto a prepared baking sheet. Brush it with egg wash. Sprinkle it with streusel topping. Bake for about 20 minutes to golden brown.
So perfect as a pastry for breakfast. Make a pot of coffee, sit by the window and watch the autumn leaves fall. Saw this tree in the park yesterday and just had to snap a photo. Oh how I love the fall colors. They are too brilliant to be captures on film or by reel. I’m sure the eye doesn’t even do proper justice to their true vibrancy.
M&Ms are the reason I learned to defecate properly. This isn’t an IBS biofeedback story, I’m referring to potty-training. My mother used M&Ms as incentive, and the operant conditioning worked. In fact, I even got M&Ms for leading my brother to the trough, so to speak. M&Ms by pooping proxy.
Fast-forward from two to twenty-nine, I’m still baiting my behavior with these timeless treats. This time the toilet is the USMLE boards exam. Nibbling as I squat over my books and study along to Step 2 on Friday.
Then, for the sake of balance, after eating M&Ms hand over fist day after day (until Friday…fingers crossed), everything else that goes in must be a vegetable. Thank God vegetables come in steaks.
Cauliflower Steaks with Salsa Verde
Adapted from Food and Wine
1/4 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
2 tablespoons chopped tarragon
1 1/2 tablespoons capers, drained and coarsely chopped
6 cornichons, chopped
1 small garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon grainy mustard
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 large head of cauliflower
Kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons canola oil
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
4 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon red wine vinegar
In a large bowl, whisk the parsley with the cilantro, tarragon, capers, cornichons, garlic, mustards and olive oil.
Cut the cauliflower from top to bottom into four 1/2-inch-thick steaks. Generously season them with salt and pepper.
In a very large skillet, heat the canola oil until very hot. Add the cauliflower in a single layer and cook over high heat until browned, 2 to 3 minutes. Carefully turn the steaks, add the wine and cook until it is evaporated and the cauliflower is easily pierced with a knife, 3 to 5 minutes.
Transfer the cauliflower to a platter and sprinkle with the lemon zest. Stir the lemon juice and vinegar into the salsa verde and season with salt and pepper. Spoon the sauce on the cauliflower and serve.
You know boards studying delirium is setting in when you eat a slab of cauliflower and pretend it’s a New York strip. My heart will thank me later.
Just returned from the yard where the chickens are gracing the grass with their morning constitution. Reminded me that I forgot to post these tasty little nuggets way back when I made them this spring. Not so photogenic, but good.
Dark Chocolate No-Bakes, or as my Grandmother Used to Say, “Cat Yummies”
Adapted from Penzeys Spices
2 Cups sugar
1/3 Cup dark chocolate cocoa powder, Dutch style
1/2 Cup milk
1 stick butter or margarine, room temperature
1 tsp. vanilla
21/2 Cups oatmeal, regular or quick-cook
Combine the sugar, cocoa and milk in a heavy medium saucepan over medium heat. Boil until the mixture forms a soft ball when a bit is dropped in cool water, stirring regularly. This will take 7-10 minutes. If you are using a candy thermometer, soft ball stage is 235-245°. Turn off the heat and add the butter/margarine, vanilla and oatmeal. Stir vigorously to combine. Drop by the spoonful onto waxed or parchment paper-lined cookie sheets and let cool. Do this part quickly, as once the mixture cools it hardens. It is best to have two lined baking sheets and your spoon ready to go while you are boiling the mixture.
Patricia Smith’s description of making cornbread with her father is perfect. Dough churning like a slow song sounds, smooth but with grit and fleck. I’ve made cornbread so many many ways. In waffles with chili, on a skillet with bacon and grease Southern style, in a pan, square and clean Northern style, and as sponge for beef au jus, the Lombardy pan giallo way. I’ve been overcome in recent weeks by the Tartine style of making bread. I use my sourdough starter for the levain and follow their simple hydration and bakers percentages. The bread has a simplicity that bespeaks perfection. As cornbread, it is paradoxically airy and hearty. The flavors of pumpkin seed and rosemary stain it with autumn. It tastes like a slow song sounds.
Preheat oven to 400 and spread the pumpkin seeds evenly on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake seeds until they begin to turn light brown, about 10 minutes. Let cool. In a bowl, stir the polenta with the boiling hot water and set aside for 10 minutes or until cool. Stir in the oil, rosemary, and pumpkin seeds into the polenta.
Add this yummy stuff to the dough after a second turn in Step 5 of the Country Bread recipe (like above). Complete the remainder of the Tartine bread recipe as directed, but you may add a little extra flour as the polenta makes the dough very, very wet.
You know what goes great with corn bread? Tomato anything. If tomatoes were lava, my backyard would be the Pacific Rim. Immense tomato eruption this summer, and still spewing. Pretty soon I’m going to get to canning, but for the time being, I’m trying to keep up with the harvest by cooking tomatoes into sauces, soups and stews.
Tomato Basil Sauce
Adapted from Cooks Country
2 tbsp butter
¼ cup chopped onion
1 tsp oregano
2 garlic cloves
30 oz crushed tomatoes (about one mixing bowl full)
½ tsp sugar
3 TB basil
1 TB olive oil
Melt butter in saucepan. Add onion, a pinch of salt, oregano, and cook until onions are carmelized. Add garlic and cook until fragrant. Stir in tomatoes and sugar, bring to a simmer. Then reduce heat until thickened slightly, about 10-15 minutes. Off the heat, stir in the basil and oil. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Add roasted red pepper flakes if you like a little zing!
And
Tomato Soup with Feta, Olives, and Cucumbers
Adapted from Food and Wine
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
In a medium saucepan, heat the 6 tablespoons of oil. Add the onion, olives and oregano and cook over moderately low heat, stirring, until the onion is softened, about 7 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in both vinegars. Season with salt. Cool to room temperature.
Meanwhile, in a bowl, toss the cucumber with 1/2 tablespoon of the honey and season with salt.
In a blender, puree the chopped tomatoes with the remaining 1/2 tablespoon of honey and season generously with salt and pepper.
Pour the soup into shallow bowls. Top with the onion-olive mixture, cherry tomatoes, cucumber slices and feta. Drizzle with olive oil, garnish with baby greens and serve.
I actually didn’t like this soup at all, so I boiled it all down into tomato sauce, which tasted great with the olives and such. I scoop heaping gobs of tomato sauce onto toasted slices of tartine polenta, and watch autumn leaves fall onto red-studded vines flopped over their cages like a jewelry store display.
Flood the moat; keep the rabble from the gates. Best advice I’ve had in weeks. And exactly what the chickens needed to hear. We may have a weasel. There was a weasel or squirrel or Chihuahua sized burrow hole at the door of the coop. The birds had new tremor in their wattles.
I was, at a time, obsessed with Annie Dillard. She has a lovely essay about Weasels, in particular, how to live like them. “One naturalist refused to kill a weasel who was socketed into his hand deeply as a rattlesnake. The man could in no way pry the tiny weasel off, and he had to walk half a mile to water, the weasel dangling from his palm, and soak him off like a stubborn label.” All I can say is, weasels, you don’t know what stubborn is. Stay away from my hens, or you’ll have a red-headed label at your throat.
Fried Shrimp Flatbreads with Spicy Cardamom Sauce
Adapted from Food and Wine
Sauces
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
2 tablespoons buttermilk
2 tablespoons chopped mint
2 tablespoons minced chives
Finely grated zest of 1 lemon
7 garlic cloves, minced
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
4 Thai chiles, minced
1 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Fried Shrimp
1 large egg beaten with 1 tablespoon of water
1 cup panko (Japanese bread crumbs)
16 large shrimp (about 1 pound), shelled and deveined
Extra Virgin olive oil, for frying
Salt
Four 10-inch, thin flatbreads, such as naan, or thick flour tortillas, warmed
1 Hass avocado, sliced lengthwise 1/4 inch thick
1/4 cup diced red onion
For the sauce:
In a bowl, whisk the crème fraîche with the buttermilk, mint, chives, lemon zest and 1 minced garlic clove; season the crema with salt and pepper.
In a blender, combine the remaining minced garlic with the chiles, cardamom, cumin and lemon juice. Puree until smooth. Season the cardamom sauce with salt and pepper.
For the shrimp:
Put the beaten egg and panko in separate bowls. Dip the shrimp in the egg, then dredge in the panko; transfer to a baking sheet. Refrigerate for 10 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 350°. In a saucepan, heat 1 inch of EVOO to 350°. Fry as many shrimp as you can at a time, turning once, until browned and crisp, about 2 minutes. Transfer the shrimp to a rack set over a rimmed baking sheet to drain; season with salt. When all of the shrimp have been fried, transfer them to the oven and bake until heated through, about 2 minutes.
Spread the warm flatbreads with the spicy sauce. Arrange the avocado and the shrimp on top. Scatter the red onion on top, drizzle with the crema and serve.
For Easy Flatbread:
I use 2 cups whole wheat flour, 1 cup warm water, 1 tsp salt. Mix together and knead for 10 minutes. Let sit covered in a bowl for 2 hours. Then divide into 8 pieces and roll each out flat on a floured surface. Then heat a griddle and cook each for 1 or two minutes on a side. Easy easy. Not very crispy and very thin, but nice if you don’t want to go buy naan at the store for this.
I think I am a Buddhist when it comes to driving. That said, I usually walk or moped to the places I need to go. But when I do drive, I get no road rage. I do not speed. Why would I push the pedal to the floor with every green light when I know there will soon be another? More time to meditate, and more time spent not being “anywhere” (everywhere?) The poet Wallace Stevens walked to work, never learned to drive, because he felt that walking was more conducive to writing. I tend to agree. There is more room for error with walking, more time to aimlessly notice, and much more oxygen delivered to the brain. Endorphins all around.
They say it is important that your partner be someone who shares a similarly-structured belief system to your own. Karl-Peter once got a ticket for driving too slow. At age nineteen. As the legend goes, he told the concerned officer, “I guess I’m just not in a hurry.”
Peace be with you. Do not hurry these crepes.
Dulce de Leche Crepes
Adapted from Food and Wine
1 stick unsalted butter—6 tablespoons at room temperature, 2 tablespoons melted and cooled
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
2 large eggs
1/2 cup cold milk
1/2 cup cold water
1/2 cup dulce de leche*
Unsweetened whipped cream, for serving
In a small saucepan, melt the 6 tablespoons of butter and cook over moderately low heat until the foam rises to the surface and the splattering stops, about 3 minutes. Remove the saucepan from the heat and spoon off the foam. Strain the butter through a cheesecloth-lined sieve into a small bowl; you should have about 4 tablespoons of clarified butter.
In a medium bowl, whisk the flour with the salt. In another medium bowl, beat the eggs, then whisk in the milk, water and the 2 tablespoons of melted butter. Sift the flour mixture over the egg mixture and whisk just to blend the batter; it’s okay if there are some lumps.
Heat a crêpe pan or 8-inch nonstick skillet. Add 1/2 tablespoon of the clarified butter and swirl it in the pan. Ladle 1/4 cup of batter into the pan, swirling to spread it in a thin, even 6-inch round. Cook the crêpe over moderate heat until lightly golden on the bottom, about 2 minutes.
Flip the crêpe and cook until golden, 1 to 2 minutes longer. Turn the crêpe out onto a plate. Repeat with the remaining clarified butter and batter to make 8 crêpes, stacking them on the plate as you go.
Spread a tablespoon of dulce de leche onto each crêpe and fold it in half. Place 2 folded crêpes on each plate. Top with whipped cream and serve.
The crêpes can be made ahead and stacked, then rewarmed in a microwave oven for about 20 seconds.
*If you don’t have dulce de leche in the house, I took ½ cup of heavy whipping cream and beat it briskly with ¼ cup caramel sauce (I think it was the Starbucks brand stuff) until it had whipped peaks. Yummy.
Drive slowly. Or not at all. See what it does for your faith.
I’m afraid that here in Minnesota we have come to the season wherein the mere idea of a sauna is the motive force behind each step I take toward winter. Ooh, it’s getting cold. And I’m frantic to make soup. Or piping hot pizza with all the veggies the summer has left behind.
Grilled Chicken and Veggie Pesto Pizza
Inspired by Hyvee Seasons
1 medium yellow summer squash, halved lengthwise, then sliced 1/4-inch thick
3 medium Roma tomatoes, sliced lengthwise into 1/4-inch slices
1/2 medium red onion, cut into 3/4-inch wedges
1 jalapeno, deseeded and diced
4 cloves of garlic, minced
4 tbsp Select olive oil, divided
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, divided
3/4 pound chicken breast
6 tbsp prepared pesto, divided
1 c. shredded Italian blend cheese
1 tsp lemon zest seasoning
basil, for garnish, or Penzey’s Frozen Pizza Topping Spice
Make the dough:
1 cup sourdough starter
1 1/4 cups water, at room temperature
2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
2 cups (22 oz.) bread flour, plus more for dusting (used all-purpose)
2 cups whole-wheat flour
1 1/2 tsp. salt
olive oil or non-stick cooking spray for greasing the bowl
Measure the warm water and oil into a bowel and add the sourdough starter.
Add flour and salt to the liquid ingredients. Knead until the dough is smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. Form the dough into a ball, put it in a deep oiled bowl, and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Press the dough to deflate it.
Shape into smooth round ball and cover with a damp cloth. Let dough relax for at least 10 minutes (no more than 30 minutes). Roll out into a round or rectangle (whatever seems to be working for you) that is roughly 9 inches in diameter, or 9×13 rectangle.
Brush rolled out dough round with oil.
The veggies
Brush grill grates and a grill wok or vegetable grate with cooking oil. Preheat grill and wok for direct cooking over high heat.
On a large baking sheet place summer squash, tomatoes and onion; coat with 1-1/2 tablespoons olive oil and season with 1 teaspoon kosher salt.
On a separate baking sheet, place chicken and coat with 1/2 tablespoon olive oil and season with 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt.
Grill chicken over direct heat for 8 to 10 minutes, turning once, until internal temperature reaches 165 degrees. Grill vegetables and garlic in wok about 8 minutes, stirring occasionally until tender and slightly charred.
Decrease grill heat to medium-high.
Transfer pizza dough to grill. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes or until underside is golden brown and charred. With a large spatula, turn dough. Working quickly, spread 3 tablespoons pesto over each oval almost to edge.
Arrange grilled vegetables and chicken over pesto. Top with cheese and lemon zest seasoning and/or Penzeys Frozen Pizza Seasoning. Grill until underside is golden and charred, about 3 minutes, or until cheese is melted. Garnish with basil, if desired.
Eat, and then go get in the sauna. And then build one in your chicken coop.
