Sass & Veracity

Vegetables Galore!

One of the difficulties that arises when I cook is not being able to find particular ingredients.  Most often, the item is one of a few featured in a recent issue of a food magazine I enjoy, and because the content is seasonal, one would believe that finding those ingredients might be easier.

Unfortunately, it isn't true, and when it comes time for me to cook something new, I have to drive to several stores to find what I'm looking for -- if I can find it at all.  When I am able to locate that one special ingredient, I'm left wondering where it was grown, and by whom, annoyed that most often, it isn't from anywhere near San Diego.  Thankfully, I have a new venue to track down those one of a kind ingredients when it comes to fresh fruit or vegetables:  Specialty Produce.

Last week, I had the opportunity to visit Specialty Produce and tour their facility in Middletown, an industrial sort of neighborhood relatively close to the airport and downtown.  It's a bustling place where employees are either wheeling unique merchandise through the warehouse, or monitoring phones and computers taking orders from local chefs and other merchants.

Here was finally a place I could get chervil, or purslane, or chanterelles when no one else has them.  And there's a great section with produce from area growers with items I've never seen before -- like Red Frill Mustard and Watermelon Radishes.  It was like being in a candy shop when you're a veggie lover like me -- the only drawback is that one can only purchase so much fresh food and still be able to enjoy it within the next day or so.

The best way to utilize this great San Diego resource if you're an avid home cook like me is to check out what's in stock using their website.  It will tell you not only what's in stock, but what's in peak season and at the height of quality.  Nutritional information is also available which is something I always keep my eye on.

Along with the mustard and radishes I mentioned above, I brought home Black Kale, Yellow Foot Chanterelles, Green Garlic, Oro Blanco Grapefruit, and some cute little Hauer Pippin from Windrose Farm in Paso Robles.

Oh the fun I've had cooking with this food...

Salad with Roasted Butternut Squash and Hazelnuts

The weather here has been remarkable for the past few days with temperatures reaching nearly 80.  Blue skies stretch on forever, and because it's so dry, visibility is about as clear as I've seen it in a while.  I've had the patio door open during the day, and a few windows open at night to move the air around and keep the house from getting stuffy.

But wonder of all wonders?

I actually got off my rump and went for a walk today, pounding the asphalt of my old route back and forth through the neighborhood across the street -- the one that affords me a breathtaking view of the San Diego skyline, Mission Bay, and the beach each time I make it to the end of a street.  Down the hill and back takes me about 45 or 50 minutes, and I'm proud to say that although I haven't walked for more than a month -- make that two --  everything seems just fine.  No aches or pains -- yet.  When I got back home, I put a salad together just for me.

Although I finally broke down yesterday and went to the grocery store for some produce and other necessities, I did have half a butternut squash in the fridge left over from the scarlet runner bean soup I made last week. 

Wait.  Squash in a salad? 

That's what I thought until I saw the piece in next month's issue of Food & Wine in "Six Hearty Winter Salads."  The Butternut Squash Salad with Hazelnuts had my name all over it.  And if you're too chilled about the prospect of a salad in the wintertime -- it's a warm salad.

How can you refuse?  Mumbling about not liking squash doesn't count.

 

Spicy Game Day Chili Beans

Having been a resident of San Diego for so many years, it's impossible not to get caught up in our Chargers even though there always seems to be just as many fans in the stadium for the opposing team as there are Chargers fans.  Lots of people who grew up elsewhere find their way here because of the weather and they rarely leave, but manage to hang on to their old teams enough to drive the rest of us crazy.  Inevitably, a comment is shouted about something to the effect of, "If you're loving your blinking bleebs so much, then why don't you go back to where you came from..." when the visitors are winning, and their San Diego fans are loudly proclaiming their superiority on the field.  Ah, the joys of being sports fans!

Being married to the most intense sports fan you'd ever imagine has helped me understand more about football than I'd have ever known otherwise.  Unfortunately, he's more of a cup-half-empty guy when it comes to sports, and suffers from knowing way too much -- using all the statistics he naturally holds in his brain to calculate possibilities for their athletic demise.   It's a sight to behold, watching his intensity each week, often standing in front of the television with his arms crossed instead of slouched in a chair with a beer.

He's not much of a beer guy.  He likes Coke -- and hot tea.

But he'll be at the game today, so I'll be home with our 16-year-old, cheering for our team with my usual it's not over 'till the fat lady sings attitude when it comes to our Chargers.  And no....I'm not planning on being the singing fat lady.

To spice things up a bit, I happen to have a bet going with a foodie friend Peter over at Kalofagas regarding the outcome of this game today.  His pick is Indy, and I'm saying no way on that one.  The Chargers are going all the way.  They're so due.  Over due.  Peter and I have agreed that should out team lose, we must admit our defeat, worship the winning team, and celebrate the winning city.  I sure hope he's studying about San Diego right now, because he's going to have a lot to write about. 

But now for some real spice.

How about a big ol' pot o' chili for the game?

 

Key Lime Cheesecake

Sometimes I'll ask my husband what sounds good -- to smack his lips together and let me know.  It's only fair since I'm the one who always decides what we'll eat.  He barely gets a request in edgewise, so I give him the chance once every other blue moon.

"Key Lime Pie," he answered when I asked a few days ago.  Not a question -- a statement.  Okay.

I'm fairly good at anticipating much of what he comes up with -- dinner or dessertwise -- but this one threw me for a loop.  Even though we're experiencing typical San Diego weather now (it's always hotter in the early Fall...) I've had baked apples and braised meat swirling through my head for weeks.  Key Lime?  Talk about shifting gears.

It sounded so tropical and fresh -- so summery.  Not to mention that my regular market doesn't always have them.  But it must have been his lucky day, because not only did I find them, I found a bag of them -- tiny green orbs of heaven from Mexico.

Key limes are quite a bit smaller than regular limes and often have skin that is more yellow than green.  To me, the taste isn't as bitter as that of a regular or Persian lime, and the aroma more sweet. They're so tiny, I have to get out my wooden router instead of using my old glass juicer which is so much neater.  Yes, the wooden one works, but somehow, my technique must be rotten; I end up with lime juice everywhere but the bowl I want it it!

So how did we end up with cheesecake instead of key lime pie?  I'm still working on that cheese drawer and happened to have two packages of cream cheese that needed to be used.  Besides, I couldn't resist the lime custard in this recipe.  Oh.  My.

Daring Bakers: Lavash Crackers and Nopales Salsa

Today is quite different than the past many months that I've posted.  Today marks one of the very few times that I've baked a recipe for the Daring Bakers that isn't classified as a sweet.  And even more importantly?  It's the first gluten-free recipe as well.  This month's challenge of Lavash Crackers has been hosted by Natalie of Gluten A Go Go, and Shel of Musings From the Fishbowl.  The recipe is from Peter Reinhart's The Bread Baker's Apprentice. 

I definitely have that post for you today,  but thought I'd put a local type of spin on it.  Seriously local. 

Ever had nopales?  These Lavash Crackers with garlic, crushed red pepper flakes, and cumin can really take on a substantial salsa...

Kitchen Organization Deconstructed (Sort of...)

I'm fascinated by those shows on television that focus on the concept of "before" and "after."  It doesn't seem to matter whether it's about flipping a house, remodeling, landscaping, Gordon Ramsay advising how to turn a restaurant around, and yes, even What Not to Wear -- I guess I'm a sucker for the idea of anything being taken from a classic ugly duckling to a beautiful swan.  Cliche, I know, but it's the closest thing I can come up with right now.

I also love perfectly organized spaces.  It doesn't matter if it's my Mac desktop, or my real desktop, my closet or garage,  I can see what it should look like -- perfectly -- and would love for it all to be just so.

But it all comes to a screeching halt right there, because as much as I can say I crave it, visualize it, and need it, something happens on the way to execution.  Well, at least the execution of the details, because I'm pretty good at making something look very attractive until you look a bit more closely.

I like to blame it on the very real idea that after years and years of being so busy with work, and realizing I'd organize something -- anything -- to avoid doing that work, I had to train myself not to notice.  I learned how to try and stay more focused, ignore dishes in the sink, or a stack of mail, magazines that needed to be gone through, and basic clutter.  I got more work done, I was more content, and my house became a wreck.

I can't stand it, yet I've learned to tolerate it for my sanity.  Okay, so a tad over dramatic, but I'm trying to make a point here.

Now I no longer have the endless work I had to do.  I am fortunate enough to be on the other side of the "If Only I Didn't Have To Work, I Could..." lament I indulged myself with, and now know is a load of crap.  A year and a half have gone by, and it's taken me this long to get around to noticing that I can now obsess until the cows come home about all the picky details my brain wants me to take care of.

I can organize, label, and fuss over details to my heart's content.

But have I?

Um, nope.  Unfortunately, I discovered the insanely addictive wonderful world of blogging a bit more than a year ago, and now I have a completely different area in which to split hairs and fuss over minutiae.

So what does this have to do with food?

It's about my kitchen.

I have a  very nice kitchen.  When we moved to this house six years ago, I left an equally nice kitchen we'd had remodeled several years before.  I left an amazing 36" Dynasty range with an infrared ceramic broiler and burners that put out BTUs that brought true meaning to the saying, "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." 

Then we moved here -- to a house that had a kitchen with 25 year old appliances, an uncalibrated oven that a proper sized turkey wouldn't fit in, and electric cooktop that I couldn't squeeze all the pans I wanted on it at the same time.  I thought I'd never recover.  I'm exaggerating, of course, but it was quite an adjustment.  We moved in right before I took on a enormous new level of responsibility at work, so many of my kitchen things were just put in cupboards and a few years went by before we decided to remodel this kitchen.  It's amazing how well we adapt when we have to, isn't it?  You just learn how far off that oven's temperature is, and do the math every time you bake while wondering whether baking over a camp fire  would be easier.

Three years have gone by, and I've had plenty of time to think about how well this new kitchen works.  I've tolerated the places I chose at the time to put baking items, and serving dishes, or small appliances.  I've also had time to realize after having gone through kitchen remodels twice now, that as much as I can say I like the way the end product looks, I'm probably never going to love the way it actually works.

When you cook as much as I do, the kitchen is rarely neat.  I want everything close by, and don't want to have to pull anything out of a cupboard to reach something else -- and that's what I've been putting up with for three years. (Insert violins here.)  When I come home from the grocery store, I want my food to actually fit in the cupboard, and not have to sit on the floor near the cupboard, since buying less food isn't a practical solution.

What is a practical solution is to get off my rump and reorganize my kitchen.

So that's what I did.  And I'm not 100% finished, but I'll get there.  I hit a few snags along the way with respect to finding the right containers to hold small amounts of opened product, and deciding what needs to stay in the kitchen because it's used, and what needs to go in a closet we're having racks fitted into for that purpose (My husband says we can do this ourselves a la weekend warriors, but trust me, pigs will fly first....)

So here are my before and after shots.  And if you have ANY suggestions that work for you, by all means, let me know.  This is a work in progress.

This is the area above the microwave.  You have NO idea how many times flour or sugar fell out onto my face or the floor.  Really.  Yes, I'm going to HATE having to reacy for that food processor, but it's much lighter than the Kitchen Aid and you should see where that is...

You wouldn't think three people would need a pantry bigger than this, but somehow we do.  Clearly that second shelf needed some serious help.  When you KNOW you bought star anise and can't find it, you buy more.  You know, because you simply can't be with out it.  Because. 

That second shelf looks a bit different, doesn't it?  It's actually pleasant to be able to SLIDE the drawers out now.  What a concept.  Maybe that's what they were designed to do?  Rocket Science, plain and simple.

But wait.  Where did all those messy little bags go?
 

I found the boxes at Ikea -- cheap, but I'm not sure I like them yet.  Definitely an improvement since I now know where all my star anise is.  I better start looking for recipes since I have enough to last for a couple of years.

But there is a domino effect occurring in all this shifting of kitchen things.  I had to move my ceramic baking things into a different cupboard, which forced me to move my oversized plates and platters.

This is sooooooooooooo much better.  It only took me THREE years to figure out that these two twirly cupboards are different sizes and that those large plates fit right in there on the top instead of the bottom of the other.  More Rocket Science.  Who knew?

 

And the second area that helped give birth to this rather late spring cleaning endeavor?  My pan drawer.  I'm sure there's some logic to the fact that if you continue to purchase pans, you'll need more space and that no one but you will be able to figure out how to actually put the pans in there and still be able to close the drawer.  So, two drawers it was, which is what it should have been to begin with.  I knew that.

Criminal, isn't it?

But look now!  Drawer Number One...

   And Drawer Number Two...

 

Now that I've moved almost everything, my husband will have a real excuse to leave things on the counter after he's unloaded the dishwasher.

It cleans up nicely, doesn't it?

The only problem now is...WHERE TO PUT THE STUFF I TOOK OUT OF THE CUPBOARDS...

Summer in a Pie: Very Berry!

The local weather widget  on my Mac's dashboard says it's 90 degrees outside right now, but I don't believe it.  Although it does seem to be quite a bit warmer than what the weather guy reported this morning, it's still not that hot.  I'll believe 80.  Maybe.  I can feel a nice breeze -- refreshingly cool, but the sun is scorching!  No complaints, however.  None at all.  Actually I'm sort of amazed that when summer officially began a couple of days ago with the ending of school, the ever-present June Gloom we're accustomed to has disappeared.

That means tonight will be perfect for an outside dinner, after I scrape the hard water deposits off the glass on the patio table.  So much for Martha living here, right?  I'll light some little votive candles, throw a couple of Duraflame logs in the chiminea, and hope the clouds don't return so we can enjoy what promises to be a very warm evening.

This first truly summery night deserves an after dinner treat that I've had my eye on since the June issue of Gourmet surfaced in my mail stack.  I couldn't exactly get past the full page glossy photo and the homey looking aspect of the strawberry pie.  Was that jello?  Oh. My.

And what a perfect way to celebrate the Strawberry Moon Festival, hosted by Cooking in Cleveland, a site that features "homecooking with seasonal, locally grown produce."

Is it cheating that I added blueberries?  I can't resist the way they look with strawberries.  Okay, and their crunch is quite lovely, too. 

I'll let you know how the dinner goes.

Very Berry Pie

First the crust...
1 pkg. shortbread cookies (about 5 ounces)
2 T turbinado
2 T very cold butter

Then the berries...
1-1/2 lbs. fresh strawberries
1/2 c. fresh blueberries
3/4 c. turbinado
1/3 c. fresh squeezed lemon juice
1 envelope unflavored gelatin (2-1/4 tsp.)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Prepare the berries first...

Choose the best strawberries to leave whole.  You'll need as many as it takes to cover the bottom of your pie pan -- about 15.  Hull them and set them aside.  Cut the remaining strawberries into 1/4" dice and put them in a medium bowl with the blueberries.  Gently mix in the sugar and lemon juice and let sit to macerate for at least 30 minutes.

Now make the crust...
In the bowl of a food processor, pulse all the shortbread cookies to fine crumbs.  Then add the sugar and butter, pulsing until the mixture resembles large crumbs that hold together.  Press the mixture into a 9" pie pan, evenly distributing it across the bottom and up the sides.  Bake in the middle of the oven for about 15 minutes, or until lightly golden.  Let cool completely.

Okay, back to the berries...
Position a fine mesh strainer over a large measuring cup and pour the berries into the strainer to drain for about 5 minutes.  Pour some water over the berries until 2 cups of liquid are measured.  Set the berries aside and pour the liquid into a small pan.  Sprinkle the gelatin over the liquid and let soften for a minute.  Then over medium heat, stir the liquid until the gelatin dissolves and it just begins to simmer, about 8 minutes.

While the juice is heating...
Prepare an ice bath by setting a metal bowl in a larger container of water and ice cubes.  Pour the berries into the metal bowl.  When the juice on the stove reaches a simmer, pour it over the berries and stir gently and frequently until the mixture begins to "mound" as you stir it.  This takes about 30 minutes.

Now for the pie...
Spoon enough of the berry mixture into the pie crust to cover the bottom.  Then arrange the hulled whole strawberries stem side down in the crust.  Mound the remaining berry mixture over and around the whole strawberries making sure the gelatin doesn't run up over the crust.

Refrigerate for at least 4 hours, then serve with whipped cream mixed with mascarpone, a little sugar, and a dash of vanilla.

Notes:

• This took longer than I though it would, so I rewrote the directions to allow for as little down time as possible.  If you use granulated sugar, the berries may macerate more quickly.  Or, if your berries are more fresh than mine seemed to be, perhaps that could speed up the process.  My berries generated 1 cup of juice after sitting for 30 minutes.  With the addition of 1 cup of water, the liquid was still very sweet. 
• The original recipe and directions can be found here.
• Since we haven't actually gotten to taste the pie yet, I can only say that I suspect this will not look all that perfect after it's cut.  But I'll come back with some photos, just to stick with my customary brand of veracity. 
• On the notion of buying local...I noticed that my berries came from as far away as Stockton, which is in Northern California.  They also came from Salinas, Santa Maria, and Oxnard, which is the closest.  This is certainly not local, but it's also not Chile which is where our berries come from in the off season.  I could rage on right now about the cost of food and gasoline, but won't.  That's why I have another blog. I've been known to blow off steam there.

And the weather?  Feh.  In the time that it took to write this post, not only has the temperature dropped to 85 degrees, but the clouds have formed, and a dense fog is slowly creeping up the hill.  The houses on the ridge with the zillion dollar view of the Pacific are now lost in the fog.

So much for dinner outside unless we want to freeze our rumps off.  At least we'll have a "sunny" pie, though, right?

Update:  The fog did lift, and somehow, it was clear and sunny again.  So did we eat outside?  Nope.  I'm a lazy butt sometimes.  But the pie turned out great!  Outstanding berry flavor that's not too sweet.  And the crust?  Jeez!  It makes the pie!  The only problem is that it doesn't come out of the pan as well as you'd think and does crumble a bit.  It isn't too delicate, it's just stuck.  But pick up the pieces, crunch them a bit, and then sprinkle it over.  You won't want to miss a crumb.  Trust me.

French Toast Paradise Style

One of my favorite things to do on a weekend morning is go to breakfast.  It doesn't matter where.  Just the opportunity to get up and out on a gorgeous day to enjoy good food, company, and then go for a walk afterwards seems decadent at this time of year.  My husband's nearing the end of his busy season, so months of hard work will be slowing down, allowing us to think about getting out and enjoying the weekends once again.

We're fortunate, because there are a number of excellent places to enjoy a good breakfast within a five minute drive of our house, with the much needed walk afterwards including spectacular views of the Pacific Coast, complete with crashing waves, sea gulls, and a few palm trees thrown in for good measure.  As strange as it may seem, we don't often take advantage of our proximity to this, and so have to remind ourselves to join the throngs of tourists who always seem to be present.  Surprisingly, it works quite well, and after indulging ourselves, we promise not to let too much time pass before we do it again.

It will definitely be something to look forward to with today being the last weekend morning that my husband will be going in to work.  And on days like today, that means that having a great breakfast at home is a close second -- a breakfast inspired by Brockton Villa, one restaurant that is very near by.  It sits high above the water on a cliff in what used to be the old summer bungalow of a physician from Brockton, Massachusettes.  It's open and airy and features a massive fireplace in the main room made with huge stones rounded by years of wear from running water and dotted with iridescent abalone shells.  It serves three meals a day and bustles with business all year long.  One of the more popular breakfast dishes served is the Coast Toast.  If you're someone who enjoys French Toast, this would be one of the most rich versions I've tasted. Ironically, I've never eaten Coast Toast at the restaurant because they've graciously shared the recipe for years.

Although I've made Coast Toast many times, I've never quite been able to bring myself to include the 1 qt. of whipping cream the recipe requires.  Yes, I said 1 qt.  What makes this version of French Toast so tasty is that a souffle-like texture is achieved.  The toast is light, fluffy, and melts in your mouth.  As much as you may want to save it for a special occasion, serving it on a sunny weekend day will help to make an ordinary day feel quite special.

To view the original recipe, click the link above and scroll down.  And then consider my version as well.

Paradise Style French Toast

1 loaf good French Bread, sliced thick
1 c. heavy cream
1 c. half-n-half
6 eggs
1/4 c. orange juice
1/4 c. sugar
1 T vanilla
2 T grand mariner

Berries

1 pt. fresh strawberries, halved or quartered
3 T brown sugar
splash of grand mariner

Cream

1 c. whipping cream
1/2 c. mascarpone
1 tsp. vanilla
1 T powdered sugar

Combine all  ingredients and using a wire whip, mix well.  Place bread slices in one or more large baking pans and pour mixture over bread.

Cover with plastic and place in the refrigerator for about an hour.

Prepare berries and cream, cover, and refrigerate.

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F and cover a baking sheet with silicone or parchment.

Heat a griddle or skillet and spray with pan oil.

Cook bread pieces until nicely browned on both sides and remove from skillet to the baking sheet.  Place the baking sheet in the oven and bake for about 7-8 minutes or until bread is puffy.

Serve with fruit and cream.

Go for a walk and enjoy the morning!

Notes:  It's worth trying the original recipe just once by splitting the ingredients in half.  That way you'll get the idea of the souffle texture the recipe is aiming for. Using French bread that is highly processed and "fluffy" doesn't work well with this recipe.  It becomes entirely too soft and is difficult to work with.  Use an artesian bread with good structure that's a day old, if possible.  With respect to the quantity of eggs and milk, I've played around with it depending on the ingredients I've had at home.  I've used whole milk instead of half-and-half, I've used only half-and-half, more eggs, fewer eggs...it depends primarily on how many people will be eating.  I use about 1 egg per person in the mix.  Ultimately, the batter needs to be rich and thick, but only as much as will soak up into the bread since the excess is discarded.  Orange extract works well with this, but so does Triple Sec and Cointreau.  Experiment with the flavors you enjoy.  Add nuts, or cinnamon, bananas, maple syrup, or whatever strikes your fancy. If you're in the mood to bump up the decadence, then smear on some cream cheese or mascarpone before you top with berries.  Oh. My. Goodness.

Definitely not diet food.