Get your quince on.

Quince is one of those fruits that you hear about, but don't really know what it tastes like nor how to properly use it.  Like lychee and loganberry.  For me at least.  

So, when I saw that Lee was selling quince at his farmstand, I had to buy a few to experiment.  They sat in my fridge for a week or so, while I read over tons and tons of recipes.  Initially I was just going to use them like apples in a savory roast chicken dish.  Cut them into quarters, toss with some butter and olive oil, thyme, sage, etc, and roast alongside the chicken.  Seemed like an easy way to cook them, and their faint floral notes would perfume the meat and cook down into a lovely sauce.  Simplistic, but very satisfying.   

But, the more that I read, I couldn't find a single recipe that suggested using the fruit with that technique, which generally means it just isn't a good idea.  Instead, there was recipe after recipe for poached quince, quince jellies and compotes, quince syrup.  I decided to forget the roast chicken plan and stick to a recipe.  A tart recipe.  Best to leave this to the experts.

Turns out quince is a bit of a beast - it has fuzzy, thick skin and a large core, which can be a pain to cut around.  Although, with a sharp knife, determination, and a few extra minutes,  you'll do just fine.  Inside it is a pale creamy color with a texture that lies somewhere between an unripe apple and jicama.  I did not try the raw quince - the single thread between all of the recipes I had read was that uncooked quince is pretty gross.  Very bitter.

As per usual, I fussed a bit with proportions and came up with a pretty darn good dessert, and beautiful to boot.  While lining my pie tin and stewing fruit, Daniel somewhat skeptically asked if I had made this pie before.  I admitted to being an amateur with quince and declared that this pie was simply a foray into the unknown, and that my next will most certainly be better.  Turns out I don't have too much to improve upon. 

QUINCE AND APPLE TART with Star Anise
for a seven and a half inch tart tin

3 quince, peeled, cored and sliced thinly
1/4 cup honey
3/4 cup water
4 star anise 
pinch of salt

1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 tbsp flour
1 tbsp butter

1 apple, thinly sliced
shortcrust pastry dough 

In a saucepan over medium heat, combine quince, honey, water, star anise and salt.  Bring to a simmer and poach the quince until just soft, about 5 minutes.  I managed to cook mine a bit too long, so the fruit became quite mushy.  Not a problem, but if you want fruit with a bit more bite, poach for less time. 

Strain quince over another saucepan, reserving all of the liquid.  Pick out the star anise and add to saucepan.  In a small bowl, mix together brown sugar, cinnamon, salt and flour.  Add to reserved cooking liquid.  Mix in butter and cook down until thickened, about 1 - 2 minutes.  Remove star anise.  Cool in fridge or freezer for about ten minutes, or until below room temperature.

Meanwhile, line your tart tin with pastry dough.  I LOVE doing this.  It's so relaxing and satisfying.  Once lined, put your tart tin back in the fridge - keep your dough as cold as possible.  
Put a cookie tray in the oven and preheat to 500 degrees.   

Once your sauce is cool enough, fill your tart tin with cooked quince.  Arrange apple slices over the top - make it pretty - and then pour your syrup evenly over the pie.  Leave a tablespoon or two for adding mid-baking.

Put your tart into the oven, on the preheated tray, and immediately turn the oven down to 425 degrees.  Bake for about 25 minutes, and then turn down the heat to 375, and bake for another 45 minutes, or until the crust is browned and the juices are bubbling.  Make sure to spoon more of the reserved syrup over the top of the tart a few times while baking - it will moisten and flavor the apples.  

Serve with simple whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.  

My favorite part of this tart was unexpected.  Because my quince cooked down so much and became kinda mushy, I needed something to give the tart texture and to make it look pretty.  The sliced apples on top were a bit of a last minute whim, but they were fantastic.  They dried out, adding a nice chewy note and their tartness complimented the rich flavor of the star anise and honey.  Quince has delicate floral and stone fruit flavors, which became the underlying element in a seriously delicious dessert.

And in closing, I totally think that I could roast them alongside a chicken and it would be wonderful.  Perhaps I'll find a few more at the farmer's market today to play with - updates to follow!

Date night with Pinot Noir.

We live in a very small town.  Not as small as the town I grew up in, but by most people's standards, Guerneville is a very very small town.  We have a handful of restaurants and even fewer good ones, a used bookshop, a hair salon, some art galleries, a coffee shop, and my little cafe/market.  So when Daniel and I decide that a date is much needed, Guerneville's options for dining get tiresome very quickly.  Fortunately, just around the corner, tucked away on the other side of the Russian River is a fancy fancy hotel and restaurant, Applewood Inn, that just so happens to have a Michelin Star.

As one would expect, a Michelin Star in the touristy heart of the Russian River Valley means you can charge a whole lot for your dishes and your dining room will be bustling almost every night.  Good for them!  And lucky for us, they have a night for locals, showing Guerneville some love.  Every Sunday night Applewood offers a three course meal for $30, and corkage is waived if you bring a Russian River Valley wine.

Every week I check in on the menu that is posted online, and this past Sunday's looked superb.  Garden lettuces with chevre, pistachios and apples, followed by crispy duck confit with lentils and fennel salad?  This is a wine lovers dream meal, and oh we are wine lovers.

To drink with the duck, we had to bring Pinot Noir.  There are few pairings that are as classic and perfect as duck and Pinot Noir.  But which Pinot?  We decided upon Copain to get around paying corkage (even if it isn't Russian River fruit, they waive it for us - working in the industry has plenty of perks here).  But Copain has a number of Pinot Noirs, each bottle with its own personality.  We wanted something with more structure and body, a wine that could stand up to the flavorful and fatty duck.

We chose the 2009 Kiser "En Bas," one of Copain's single vineyard designate Pinots.  I've found all of Copain's Pinots to be lovely - very well balanced and exceptionally delicious - but the ones from the Kiser vineyard in Anderson Valley are particularly pretty.  Besides, we're running low on our stock, so we had to revisit this wine to decide if we wanted to purchase more.  The '09 "En Bas" needed to decant, so we sipped it slowly and let the flavors unravel over the course of a long meal.  Notes of ripe cherries, fig and raspberry mingle nicely with a soft woodiness and subtle warm spices.  Think clove and cinnamon and allspice.  This wine is a beautiful garnet color and is light on the palate, but has a density of robust flavors, which paired wonderfully with the huckleberry sauce that moistened the duck and flavored the lentils.  The bright fruitiness of the sauce contrasted the richness of the duck meat, and the wine captured all of those elements in one simple sip.

I took a picture of the duck confit, but honestly, their plating on this one was not that exciting nor pretty.  Best that you just imagine a gorgeous plate of duck and lentils and fennel and leave it at that.  They did much better with the salad course, which was fantastic and looked appetizing. 

Turns out we really like the '09 "En Bas" and probably should snatch a few more before the vintage sells out.  I'll add that to the to-do list.  And maybe you should too. 

Too much zucchini.

October has snuck into mid-month at an extremely rapid clippity-cloppity-just-hold-on kinda of pace that has left me bewildered that is is indeed Autumn.  It doesn't help that every now and then Northern California surprises with 90 degree days that are filled sunshine and even a hint of humidity while the leaves are turning very pretty shades of fall.  It's confusing.  What I do know is that tomato season is coming to a close, sigh, and that I can buy gigantic zucchini at the farmer's market for just a dollar because they just need to get rid of them. 

I did this last week, fairly impulsively.  See, at my teensy farmer's market there are only two produce stands.  Tom has the best vegetables and I like his attitude, but I can't just not buy something from Lee, who is patiently waiting two feet away behind his own goods, which are really quite nice too.  So I always purchase something from both.  Last week I went for Lee's 5 lb zucchini.  For a dollar.  It was a behemoth of a squash, and begged for some creativity.  A challenge.  Stuffed squash?  Roasted?  Soup?

First, I decided to simply slice it into rounds, slather it with pesto and garlic and roast it in the oven.  Not only did I only use a third of the zucchini between three people, it wasn't that good.  Too watery and blergh and a little squishy.  I thought about stuffing it with some quinoa or cheese or something, but that all sounded kinda blergh too, so the remainder of the zucchini sat wrapped in the fridge for days.  I couldn't bear to throw it out.  I couldn't bear to cook it and dislike it again.  So it sat.

Until yesterday, when obviously, I had to make zucchini bread.  So easy, so moist, so good for breakfast or dessert or as a mid-afternoon snack with tea.  Chamomile.

ZUCCHINI BREAD with Yogurt and Walnuts
 adapted from many many sources

3 eggs
3/4 cup oil (vegetable or olive.  I used safflower because I had nothing else, weirdly.)
3/4 cup greek yogurt
1 cup sugar
2 cups grated zucchini
2 tsp vanilla
3 cups flour (I used 2 cups whole wheat, 1 cup all purpose)
3 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup walnuts, toasted and chopped (optional, but do it!)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. 

Grease and flour two 8x4 loaf pans well.  If making muffins, you'll make 24.  You'll need 24 paper liners.

In a large bowl, beat eggs and add oil and yogurt.  Stir well to combine.  Add sugar, then zucchini and vanilla. 

Combine flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and walnuts.

Stir dry ingredients into egg mixture and pour into prepared pans.  Bake for about an hour, or until a skewer comes out clean.  For muffins, bake 20 - 25 minutes. 

The end result is super moist, a touch spicy, and really satisfying.  Next time I'll use a smidge less oil, perhaps half a cup instead of three quarters.  The yogurt adds so much moisture that the oil can be cut back.  The whole wheat brings a nutty, toothsome quality that I love, but if you wanted to use only all-purpose that would be fine too.  I found recipes that called for almond flour or oat flour, both of which are interesting but incredibly expensive and I just couldn't do it.  Luckily, this recipe makes a ton of zucchini bread, which will supply the men with an ample breakfast for the next week and took care of my unused squash perfectly.  Check and check.

Next post will be dedicated to ALCOHOL, promise.  I'll get into it soon, but for some reason I've had a mental block when it comes to inspirational wine stories.  Stay tuned with glasses ready.

Waste not.

Last week at my little farmer's market, I spied Daniel's favorite - bunches of heirloom carrots in all their multi-colored, tangled glory.  If you look at them in just the right way, you'll find they have legs and arms and thank goodness they are rubberbanded together because they might just get up and walk right out of your tote.  I've been told that their gnarliness is an indication that growing conditions weren't quite right, but I think they're fabulous.  They are roots after all.  I snatch up a few bunches and hold tight, happily squirreling them home.  With a simple splash of olive oil, salt and pepper, they're into a hot oven to become the silkiest, sweetest, most gorgeous side dish ever.  Roasted carrots are outrageously easy and make Daniel extremely happy - we're all winners here.

But what to do with those intimidating, guilt inducing carrot tops?  I've heard of carrot top soup, but that sounds rather blegh.  And sure, you can add them to chicken stock and it's great!  I was roasting a chicken that day and should have used the carcass for stock, but I already have two very large jars of homemade stock in my freezer that haven't moved in months.  I take that back, they moved from my last freezer to my new one, despite Daniel's insistence that we need not move frozen jars of stuff we don't use.  But we might!  Just wait until soup season starts!

So what to do with those carrot tops that I just can't throw out because because because?  I decided to do with them what I do with any extra herb or green I have lying around, begging to be made into something more delicious.  Pesto!  Whirred up with some good olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, and a healthy handful of walnuts, the carrot tops transformed into something earthy, grassy, and rich.  The walnuts added a gentle toasty depth and thickened the pesto nicely.  Originally I was planning on using it to dress my roast chicken, but upon tasting it I decided that it needed something fattier - bread and cheese.  Thus another dinner was born - carrot top pesto pizza with radicchio, roasted summer squash, garlic blossoms and feta.  Slow roasted tomatoes rounded out the meal, which was made complete with a few glasses of Copain's 2010 Tous Ensemble Pinot Noir, our house red.  We're extremely spoiled, that gem of a wine is just so so good and we have so so much of it!

CARROT TOP PESTO

carrot tops
a good glug of good olive oil
salt and pepper
garlic cloves, crushed
lemon juice
a handful of toasted walnuts

Combine all ingredients in a food processor and blend until a smooth pesto forms, adding olive oil as needed and seasoning to taste.  The carrot tops are a little stemmy, so they take a while to puree.  

Use like any pesto - with pasta, pizza, cheeses, crudites.  

Harvest Suppers

Now that the two males in my life are very busy sorting, pressing, and fermenting all sorts of grapes day in and day out, I've taken on the satisfying role of making sure they are well fed, well caffeinated, and well rested.  This is the first week that harvest has felt more like harvest, like HARVEST, like how Daniel always described it.  Early mornings are followed by long days and dark evenings, and coming home to a meal and a glass of wine is what keeps you sorting all that Pinot Noir.  Believe me, after my shift at the market I'm happily helping myself to some much deserved wine and have already snuck a dip in the hot tub.  Yet I still feel spoiled for only working 40 hours a week, so I dream up elaborate ways to make up for it like creating my own peanut butter granola bars or cooking enormous pots of pasta for their lunches.  Pasta success, granola bars not attempted.  But honestly, I'm relishing my role as full on supporter and number one fan!  All evening I get thank you thank you thank yous and sometimes I even manage to get out of doing the dishes!  Really, I totally love planning dinners for the week and having plenty of time to myself in the kitchen to experiment a little.  

The key to these harvest dinners is to keep them easy and to always have leftovers - it makes packing lunch at 6am a much tamer beast.  Last night I broke the rules and made beautiful and delicious dishes, but each had too many ingredients and required too much attention.  The Moroccan chicken tagine I made the day before was much much simpler and a big hit.  Noted.

What I did learn was that making flatbread is awesome.  I've baked plenty of breads and doughs and crusts and they all lend themselves to different meals, but flatbread is one of the most versatile and satisfying little carb creations ever.  It comes together in 15 minutes and is baked in 12 and viola! the perfect vehicle for whatever dip, spread, cheese, or salad you fancy.  And once you know how to make the base, the possibilities are endless.  ENDLESS, I say.  I followed a recipe from Smitten Kitchen - Deb is a rockstar - and used rosemary and a bit of thyme.  Maybe you should add some minced garlic and parmesan?  Red chili flakes?  As I said, endless.  Personally, I'm kind of loving the rosemary.

Rosemary and Sea Salt Flatbread

1 3/4 all purpose flour
1 tbsp chopped rosemary
1 tsp chopped thyme
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup water
1/3 cup olive oil
sea salt

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.  Put a baking sheet or pizza stone in the oven to preheat.

In a medium bowl mix together flour, rosemary, thyme, salt and baking powder.  Make a well in the center and add water and oil.  Gradually stir together with a wooden spoon until a soft ball of dough forms.  On a clean work surface knead gently a few times.  

Divide dough into three pieces.  On parchment paper roll out each dough into 10 inch rounds.  Don't worry about the shape, it should look rustic.  Mine looked like Africa.  The dough should be very thin.  Brush the dough with olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt (I used Maldon) and a few rosemary sprigs.  Make sure to push the rosemary into the dough gently.  

Slide parchment paper and dough onto the preheated baking sheet (I used a pizza stone) and bake for 10 - 12 minutes or until the edges are beginning to toast and the dough is fully cooked. 

Meanwhile, roll out remaining dough and repeat.  

My flatbread was served with roasted eggplant caponata, kamut tabouleh, roasted radicchio and plenty of feta.  All of these elements could have been made well in advance - the flatbread will keep for days if stored in an airtight container away from hungry boys - and would have made for a super simple summer meal.  Of course, I tried to throw everything together in an hour and covered my kitchen in herbs, lemon zest and flour.  The finished product was delicious, and now that I have this recipe down, next time it will be served much more gracefully.

Kale kale kale.

Oh summer salads, how I love you!  You make every meal more fun and healthy and there are so many ways to make you.  Sometimes I feature a grain or bean like kamut, farro or chickpeas.  Maybe cherry tomatoes, corn, avocado.  All are variations on beautiful fresh produce, plenty of herbs, and some kind of flavorful dressing. 

At my little local farmer's market last week I picked up kale, squash and tomatoes from Tom, my new favorite farmer.  His produce is gorgeous and he always has really lovely bunches of flowers that I don't know the name of but look very pretty in vases with random branches and leaves I've plucked from my backyard.  Flower arranging is a piece of cake after a few tries and plenty of greenery.

Most of my summer salads are good, a lot of them are great, but the one I made with Tom's produce was fantastic.  A keeper, for sure.  It's all about the dressing, which can be used on a million different salads.  Start playing!

CHOPPED KALE, SUMMER SQUASH, AND CHERRY TOMATO SALAD

1 bunch kale, tender leaves separated from stalks, chopped into thin strips

a couple handfuls of the best cherry tomatoes you can find, halved

2 - 3 yellow summer squash, sliced in rounds very thinly on a mandoline

5 - 6 tbsps cotija cheese, crumbled

basil, torn

1/4 cup balsamic

lemon juice from one lemon

1 tbsp honey

1 tbsp dijon mustard

3/4 cup olive oil

1/8 cup white wine

salt and pepper

Massage the kale with your hands to soften it.  

Whisk together dressing ingredients in a small bowl or a ball jar.  I like using ball jars (or old mustard jars) because shaking is the best way to mix it.  Taste and season accordingly. 

Toss kale with dressing and let it sit for at least 20 minutes.  Mix in squash, tomatoes and basil.  Top with cotija and serve.

We served this salad with grilled steak and balsamic-thyme grilled peaches and red onions.  Paired with Syrahs from Radio-Coteau and Copain, all was right in the world.  Radio-Coteau's more robust and lush Syrah was a nice foil to Copain's leaner and prettier 2011 Les Voisin.  Full disclosure - we meant to open the 2009 instead.  Whoops.  Turns out this young Syrah is still really really good.   

 

Oh hi there again.

Hi friends and family and dearest, beloved fans.  I know you've missed me just as much as I've missed you.  And really I HAVE missed you all and this silly little blog and it's not that I haven't had things to SAY, it's just that, well, this whole internet thing takes quite a bit of time and I had plenty of other really fun things to do all summer long like swimming in rivers and going to weddings and eating my weight in the freshest salmon I've ever had. 

While waiting for my (much anticipated, surely) return, I do hope you've all been enjoying the bounty of summer's sun and have been cooking up your own storms.  Please stick with me as I slowly ease back into making this little slip of a blog a bigger part of my life, something that I attend to more than a few times a year.  To make it more manageable and fun (because that's the point, right?), I'm again breaking the rules and throwing format out the blogspot window and going rogue.  I'll write some stuff about some stuff when I feel like it.

So today I'm going to write a little about figs.  These gorgeous gems are like a very good dream.  The kind that sneaks up on you, but lingers throughout your day and leaves you with a subtle, healthy smile.  A simple fig, delicate and soft, has one of the prettiest of flavors.  It's all sorts of floral and perfume and breezy fruitiness.  They ripen quickly and must be eaten as soon as possible - do not waste a single one!  An easy task, as they are incredibly versatile.

Think savory or sweet.  Broiled, pickled, raw, grilled.  In salads or spreads, jams or breads. 

Last night I managed to convince my skeptical brother of their worth by using fresh figs as a topping on pizza.  Of course, I wasn't anticipating writing this post so I failed to document said pizza, but believe me it was quite pretty.  And simple:

CARAMELIZED ONION, FIG, AND GOAT CHEESE PIZZA

2 red onions
olive oil
splash of balsamic vinegar
a good handful of fresh, ripe figs, cut into quarters
fresh goat cheese
3 tbsp (more or less depending on your taste) fresh thyme
pizza dough
salt and pepper

Preheat your oven as high as it will go.  If you have a pizza stone, be sure to put it in the oven while preheating - you want it as hot as possible.

Slice the red onion into thin rounds.  Caramelize them in oil and balsamic vinegar until quite browned and very soft.  

Roll out your pizza dough onto parchment paper.  Top with onions and dot with figs.  Slide pizza onto your stone and bake for about 10 minutes, or until crust is cooked and starting to brown.  Remove from oven and spoon goat cheese over pizza.  Top with fresh thyme and a good sprinkling of salt and black pepper.  

Slice.  Enjoy. 

You know what else would be good?  Maybe adding some prosciutto or arugula.  Rosemary?  Variations are really quite endless when it comes to pizza, and I highly encourage you all to get a move on with your experimenting.  Fig season is very short and it would be a shame to miss it.  

I'll keep you all updated with spoonfuls of my life, and promise a few more photos in the future. 

We've arrived!

It's been a full two months since I last posted.  Many apologies, but I've been very very busy.  Four weeks ago Daniel and I left our home in Brooklyn and adventured forth to a new coast.  Although sad to see our lovely neighborhood go, we were bubbling with anticipation to get to our new digs.  After a quick visit in Los Angeles with friends and families, we meandered up the coast, ooing and aahhing at every bend.  The view!  Thrilling, gorgeous, unreal.  And at times, very terrifying.  When you find yourself on the west coast visiting me, a drive on Route 1 is a must.

Now at Harrison Grade, our new home, we're just about settled.  And we're enjoying some of the best meals we've cooked together.  Perhaps it's because of the excellent produce Sonoma County has to offer.  Or maybe it's because our kitchen has four times the space as our Brooklyn studio, allowing ingredients to sprawl across the counter, inviting an easy creativity.  Plus, all of the restaurants remotely close to our cottage close at the very civilized hour of 9pm.  In Brooklyn, a town of slightly less civilized folk, we routinely found ourselves alone in a restaurant after midnight, completely oblivious that we had outlasted our fellow diners.  Here, we don't have that luxury, so we spend more time at home in the evenings.  It's cozy.  But more about dinners to come, today we lunch. 

Play.  Paint.  Daniel is a seasoned painter.  He once painted his entire house red for a Russian themed party!  I am not.  Honestly, it hadn't really occurred to me that I could paint my apartments.  I suppose I never expected to live in them for much longer than a year and was broke and a bit lazy, so the effort of painting didn't cross my mind.  I wish it had - I probably would have respected and loved my previous homes a whole lot more.  Nonetheless, I was given a crash course in interior painting this past week, and couldn't be happier with the results.

First, go to a hardware store (Home Depot has a wide selection) and pick out paint chips.  Grab a bunch, and remember, dark is dark and even the lightest shades are dark when held up against a clean white.  Our entire cottage was painted a sickly peachy yellow, depressing both of us.  The front room and kitchen were the first to undergo a makeover.  Going for bold and elegant with a touch of French farmhouse, we decided to paint one wall a dusty red and clean up the rest with a lovely off-white.  For days we had a few paint chips taped to the wall, trying to decide which worked in what kind of light, and what felt like home.  Cajun Red and Polished Pearl won. 

Next, buy your paint, brushes, rollers, tape, and drop cloths.  Painting will take most of your day, be prepared.  Go slowly, have a steady hand, and plenty of wet paper towels in case of drips.

Then all of the sudden, you have a new living room. 

Fork.  Painting is tiring.  And before you know it, you've inhaled a scary amount of toxins and haven't had a damn thing to eat in hours.  You're fading.  Sustenance.  Lunch.  Sandwich time.  One of our first meals at Harrison Grade was a classic roast chicken.  Economical and delicious, this is our go-to meal, especially given the abundance of fresh herbs that are growing right outside our door.  With the leftovers I made a chicken and vegetable soup and a big bowl of chicken salad.  

Everyone has their own way to prepare chicken salad.  I like to make my own mayonnaise and mix it with Patak's curry paste.  Add diced chicken, celery, red onion, salt and pepper.  Sometimes I'll add apples or currants.  Maybe almonds for more crunch.  Smear your toasted bread with avocado, top with a generous heap of chicken salad followed by greens.  Eat with a napkin.  You might even need a fork.

Curry Mayonnaise

2 egg yolks

1/4 tsp mustard

1/4 tsp salt

2 tbsp white wine vinegar

1 cup safflower, sunflower, or olive oil (I like a combination of safflower and olive)

Patak's Curry Paste (mild, medium, or hot) 

In a bowl, whisk together egg yolks, mustard, salt and vinegar.  Using egg beaters, whisk in the cup of oil very very slowly.  Drip by drip, let the oil emulsify with the yolks to form a thick, creamy mayonnaise.  When all of the oil is incorporated, stir in the curry paste to taste (I use about a tablespoon.)

Glass.  What could be more refreshing than a midday, mid-painting beer?  Hefeweizen, please.  The Widmer Brothers have been brewing this Hefeweizen since 1984.  From Portland, Oregon, these brewers are west coast favorites.  Lovely, light, and full of citrus and summer, this beer was their flagship.  It's perfect for an afternoon break from housework, coming in at a reasonable %4.9 alcohol.  Thirst quenching, delightful.  Don't forget to serve with a thick wedge of lemon.

Keep it easy.

Fork.  Ahhh, a new year!  What a lovely time for reflection, contemplation, change.  I have plenty of goals for the year, for life, but something I'd like to make a priority is simplicity.  Our world is abuzz with new gidgets and gadgets all hemorrhaging information.  Too much for my little self to handle all at once.  Distractions entice from every device.

Nevermind those dishes with a trillion different ingredients, the ones that have you hopping between various specialty food stores for specific pastes and obscure spices.  I'm in operation eat-down mode in an effort to clean out my pantry before Daniel and I start on our journey westwards (more on that adventure soon).  So, no fancy foods for me this month.  Its all about using what I have, simply.

OVEN ONION JAM

red onions

balsamic vinegar

brown sugar

salt and pepper

Thinly slice onions on a mandolin (carefully!).  Spread on a shallow baking tray and season with salt and pepper.  Cover with a lot of brown sugar and douse with balsamic vinegar.  Bake in the oven (350 F), but stir often, almost every twenty minutes.  They will get sticky and jammy!  Add water as needed if the onions dry out too much.  I probably added 2-3 cups in one cup increments for one tray of onions.  After about an hour, you'll have a thick, tangy, sweet onion jam. 

Before the oven.

Half-way done!

Use as a base for a savory, earthy pizza.  Or in a cheddar and apple sandwich.  Or as a condiment for a cheese plate.  Think cranberry-walnut bread, onion jam, and a salty blue cheese.  Easy peasy.

Glass.  As the winter cold sets in (Daniel and I saw a hint of snow yesterday, I swear!), I've been drinking cup after cup of warm, spicy tea and curling up under blankets, digging into a new book.  My favorite winter tea is Good Earth's Sweet and Spicy.  It tastes like Big Red chewing gum - all cinnamon and honey and cloves.  Although very complex flavors come from a single tea bag, no additions are necessary, making it a very simple and very satisfying cup.  Don't add milk or sugar, it will overwhelm the natural sweetness of the leaves.  Simply boil water and let the tea steep for 5 minutes.  Breathe deeply and sip with ease.

Play.  M.F.K. Fisher.  There is too much to say about this superb lady.  She was probably the first official food writer, creating and then transforming a genre very dear to me.  Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher loved to eat, loved to cook, and loved to write about how food has the ability to inspire and thrill.  She encouraged her readers to look at life as a series of meals, and examined how every bite (no matter how small) gave insight into grander hopes and dreams.  Her prose is absolutely enjoyable and her subject matter rift with girlish innocence and mature wonder.  She has a knack for storytelling and relishes in the tiny excitements of life, in the people she has encountered, and in the meals she has eaten.  For anyone that takes just a moment of reflection before lifting their fork, I encourage you to dig into M.F.K. Fisher.  She'll delight.

An excerpt from An Alphabet for Gourmets: 

Every good cook, from Fanny Farmer to Escoffier, agrees on three things about these delicate messengers to our palates from the kind earth mother: they must be very green, they must be freshly gathered, and they must be shelled at the very last second of the very last minute. 

A lovely dappling of lovely memoirs.

My peas, that is, the ones that reached an almost unbelievable summit of perfection, an occasion that most probably never would happen again, met these three gastronomical requirements to a point of near-ridiculous exactitude.  It is possible however, that even this technical impeccability would not have been enough without the mysterious blending, that one time, of weather, place, other hungers than my own.  After all, I can compare bliss with near bliss, for I have often, blessed me, eaten superlative green peas. 

So, there you have it.  Heaven in just the taste of a pea.  True simplicity.