Suzy Says

This year was about change: getting the jobette; swimming lessons; having to make peace with driving a lot more. Change is good, right?

One deleterious effect of working more is reading less. I read 118 books in 2011, vs. 140 in 2010. The favorites of the year were Sue Grafton’s “V Is for Vengeance” and Candice Millard’s tour de force, “Destiny of the Republic”.

We are also getting a lot less rain this season. Last year, we totalled about 60 inches (or 153 centimeters), and already had half of that by December 31, 2010. This year, we’ve gotten about 11 inches (28 centimeters) so far. I don’t think I’m going out on a limb here by saying there’s probably a drought in my future. Number of power outages: 3. So far this season: 1, and an early one at that.

It was a great summer, though: lots of sun, little fog, no heat waves.

As far as last year’s resolutions went: not bad. I did a lot of work on the garden, though there are more things I’d like to do, given time and money, always in short supply. I still worry about the cats, and probably always will, to some extent. The loss of the beautiful and beloved June was traumatic, and, as Jessica pointed out to me, I’m a worrier. Maybe I should just embrace my inner (outer?) worrier.

This year’s resolutions are to reinstate Thursday dinners for my overworked sister – they fell by the wayside with the increased busy-ness of my schedule – and to spend more time with my brother when there’s no project to be done or special occasion to be celebrated. I always have a great time with him, but I don’t see him often enough.

And, you know, keep working on the garden and trying to minimize Calamity Suzy episodes.

Let me know what your resolutions are. And thanks for reading yet another year!

January:

How to plant tulips. Logging road walk. A check-up for the kittens. A walk with Schatzi. The beginning of A’s life-threatening illness. Another vet visit. A walk through the Village. A surprise visit from Jessica! Falling off a log really is easy. Dealing with two broken fingers: not so much. They still look freaky and witch-like. A brief trip to San Francisco. A is improving.

February:

Back in touch with the outside world. A finally gets out of Intensive Care. And I get the jobette! The boys make a windmill. Week One at the jobette. A’s slow recovery continues. Beautiful new garden chairs. A rare and magical snow day!

March:

A quick tour of the jobette. A graduates from Intensive Care to the HIghly Dependent Unit. Tragedy strikes our sister city in Japan. Doin’ it Rob style. Signs of spring. My beloved father’s 80th birthday. It’s not snow this time, it’s hail! The painting saga. Flooding. The week in pictures. Spring arrives in the garden.

April:

The painting problem is solved – at least, for now. Power outages. Little salon in the big woods. A is finally in a regular hospital ward, while Clyde is a little limpy. A nice little burn to go with my broken fingers. Jessica’s birthday! My blog’s 10th birthday! First BBQ of the year. A sad and loving farewell.

May:

The fabulous circus. New contact lenses. A walk through town. Star’s birthday. My tulips in bloom. Countrified. Fabulous garage sale finds. Girls’ night out. A short visit to San Francisco. The magnificent Balenciaga exhibit. Back home. Megan’s birthday. Car troubles – and a birthday celebration.

June:

Car trouble and bad weather. Truly rural. Bi-coastal. Rainy birthday to me. Happy first birthday to the boys! Rob is scheduled for more surgery. An evening with Erica and Jessica. Rose’s chicken curry. Unveiling the clock of ages. Rob’s surgery is rescheduled. The operation. Back home. Houdini lives!

July:

Audrey turns four. Found poetry. Both Rob and A are on the road to recovery. Kitty updates. Home improvements. Jessica visits the jobette. Musical contrasts. Erica and Jessica move to Portland (~sob~). The last Harry Potter movie ever.

August:

Propane prettifying. Encore de car. A change of address. Garden updates. The tenth anniversary of my father’s untimely and completely unnecessary death. I love you and miss you, Old Bear. More car fixing (or not). The bliss of Brian. Star meets quail.

September:

Mark’s seizure. He has epilepsy and is taking meds for it. So far, so good. Thank goodness. Free palms. The Houdini dog expands her repertoire. Planting the palms. The joys of aquafit. The delights of the County Fair. Clyde takes it on the chin. A visit from the generator fairy. A total meltdown.

October:

The car is finally fixed. I hope. Swimming clinic doesn’t go quite as swimmingly as I’d hoped. Car-share begins (and is still going on). The plague descends. My second anniversary of moving to Hooterville. The arrival of Turbo, Mark’s horse.

November:

Pool problems. Feeding the family. Meetings in San Francisco. Too tired to shop. A delightful day. Back home. The lowdown on high beams. Star and Megan are both stars. Thanksgiving Eve. A happy Thanksgiving. An early season blackout.

December:

Sunny days and sparkling nights. A look around the garden. An amazing experience. Girls’ Night In. A sudden loss. Up with the tree! An adventurous evening. And a tree adventure. Christmas cheer. A magical evening. The wit and wisdom of Jessica.

That’s it for 2011. Wishing you all a happy and healthy new year!

Guarding the tree

You are all familiar with the limitations of my kitchenette. So you probably won’t be surprised that last night I went to bed thinking, “OK. If I start the pie crust while the parsnips are roasting, then I can prep the pears and…”

You probably won’t be surprised that I woke up around 4:00 and lay there thinking about it in the cold and dark, sneezing away (having allergies to things like dust and pollen and trees makes living in the country a little trying at times). I decided to get up and deal with it instead of fretting about it.

The cats watched with benign curiosity from their post beside the heater. I put the oven on, then peeled and cut up all the veggies to be roasted (parsnips, potatoes, leeks, onions, garlic) for tonight’s soup, our traditional parsnip vichyssoise. By the time they were ready to go, the oven was warm. Then I peeled and cut up pears and tossed them in olive oil, ready to be roasted for tomorrow night’s salad.

It was time to start on the lemon pie. It soon became obvious that I had overestimated my lemon requirements, so I’ll have to start thinking of ways to use them up. Hopefully I won’t be up before dawn making lemon curd or something like that.

After five or so hours of cooking, I was more or less done when the phone rang. It was Paul, saying that he was unexpectedly in San Francisco and wondered if he could come up for Christmas. So it will be full houses for Megan and me: Paul and Jarrett, Erica and Jessica. But it will be festive!

Cranberry relish in my grandmother’s dish

Well, it’s late afternoon, and the turkey breast is in the oven, the green beans are prepped, ditto the Yukon Gold potatoes. Megan volunteered to make the two pumpkin pies. I made about 5,000 pounds of stuffing this morning, regretting my choice of chestnuts about ten minutes after starting the interminable peeling process. Hopefully, it will be worth it!

The house is about as clean as it gets during the muddy winter, the cats are out playing in the sunshine, and best of all, Jarrett’s on his way from Eureka and should be here at any minute. Huzzah!

In the meantime, here’s the recipe for my famous Cranberry Bourbon Relish, with apologies to Alison, who lives in real bourbon country. The only other option was Makers Mark, and it seemed like a waste to use that. Though, come to think of it, if the alcohol burns off and all you’re left with is the flavor, shouldn’t you use the best booze to cook with?

Cranberry Bourbon Relish

1 cup bourbon (I admit it: I used Jack Daniel’s!)
1/4 cup minced shallots
Grated zest of an orange (I used two tangerines instead)
One 12 ounce package of fresh cranberries
One cup of sugar (I used slightly less)
Freshly ground black pepper

Combine bourbon, zest and shallots in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over moderate heat, then simmer, stirring occasionally, until reduced to a syrupy glaze, about 10 minutes.

Add the sugar and cranberries, stirring well until sugar dissolves. Lower the heat and simmer, uncovered, until most of the cranberries have burst, about 10 minutes.

Remove from heat and stir in pepper to taste. Allow to cool before serving.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. I am thankful to all of you for being my friends and always encouraging me, no matter what. I hope those of you who are celebrating the holiday are doing so with your family and loved ones around you.

Well, things are pretty much under control here at Thanksgiving Central. Over the years, I have learned that the key to surviving the holidays is to do as much ahead of the Big Day as possible. Which is why I was repulsing myself with the smell of Jack Daniel’s at 9:30 this morning.

The smell of alcohol is as undelightful in the morning as it is delightful in the evening. Not for the first time, I marvelled at serious drinkers like F. Scott Fitzgerald and Patricia Highsmith, who were able to merrily imbibe from the morning onwards. And write some pretty good stories in between shots.

In my case, it was to make my famous Cranberry Bourbon Relish while Pie One (non-traditional cherry, for my non-traditional brother, who does not enjoy pumpkin pie, despite the fact that my mother used to insist every year that he did) was baking. Unfortunately, Pie One will never win a Beautiful Pie Contest. And I had the tiara all picked out, too. But I tore the crust while rolling it out and had to do a patch job.

As the house filled with the conflicting aromas of pie crust and Old Number Seven, I started to mix together the pumpkin pie filling. As I shudderingly opened the second can of evaporated milk (and re-re checked* the recipe to make sure you really need two), I thought that it looked like a lot of filling. The small print on the can of pumpkin says “Makes two pies”.

Well, it was too late by then. Also? You can’t really use half a can of pumpkin and keep the rest for later. It’s the kind of absurd supermarket math that decrees that hotdogs and buns be sold in unmatching, pre-packaged quantities.

Tomorrow, I’ll just have to roast the turkey breast, mash the potatoes, and maybe make stuffing. I’m also attempting a recipe Megan found in Sunset for fried green beans with shallots.

It will be a quiet-ish dinner, since Lichen is braving his crazy Mormon family in SoCal, Jarrett has other plans in Eureka, and Erica and Jessica have decamped to Portland, leaving the fabulous quotient of Hooterville and environs seriously depleted. But E&J (who is now fascinated by Indiah and learning Hindi) will be here for Christmas, and our good friend Paul will be here between Christmas and New Year’s, so there’s a lot to look forward to. And a lot to be thankful for.

*I hope I’m not getting obsessive-compulsive disorder or something. Lately I keep checking a million times to make sure that I have my keys and the oven is off and things like that. Surely I’m too young to be a crazy old lady!

Fall Colors

When I got home on Wednesday evening, it was so warm that I was just wearing a t-shirt and had the car windows open. The sky was a clear blue. But the whethermen were predicting rain starting at 11:00 that night, so I persuaded Megan to take Miss Scarlett to work instead of Rob’s truck, which has non-operational windshield wipers.

It was a good thing she did, because it was still raining when she brought the car back on Thursday morning. It was also surprisingly cold. Usually when it’s rainy here, it’s a little warmer because the clouds act as insulation.

Something about rainy days – and cold ones – seems to inspire me to cook. I decided to make Dad’s famous honey-mustard chicken for dinner, and while assembling the ingredients, realized that it was just as easy to make enough for Megan and Rob while I was at it. I have fallen out of the habit of making Thursday night dinner for my hard-working sis – maybe that should be a new year’s resolution for next year.

While putting the casserole together, I noticed two aging bananas in the fruit bowl and decided to make banana bread. I lit the oven* and went to get the pantry ingredients – add to my wish list a pantry that’s actually in the kitchen – and remembered that I had lent Megan the sugar.

A dilemma! I didn’t want to wake her up, but I had everything else and the oven was already heating up. I decided to risk it. I sneaked in through her garden and went in the back door to her pantry (also not in her kitchen**) and grabbed the sugar. I sneaked away unobserved by dogs or humans, no small feat.

The banana bread safely in the oven, I dished up some turkey chili for my brother. When the banana bread was ready, I took a couple of slices and the chili over to surprise him. He’s been having a bad time lately, between losing the fabulous pool and politics and drama at the firehouse, so it was nice to surprise him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, hugging me. “You’ll never find out,” I answered.

Later I called Megan to tell her that dinner would be served around 6:30. She was surprised and delighted in a way that warmed my heart. I put on my hat from the County Fair and grabbed a flashlight. As I walked back from her house, Clyde came bouncing out of the woods and accompanied me home, like a little dog. As we went into our cozy little house together, I realized that I had fed my whole family that day. It made me happy. I have to do it more often.

*My wishes seem to have become more modest over time. Now all I want is an oven that lights without matches; a bathtub of any kind; and a hose reel. How the glamorous have fallen!

**Can you tell our houses were designed and built by a guy? Erica calls my place “the man-cave”>

A beautiful day for a fair

First things first: happy birthday to Rob! He stopped by this morning and when I wished him happy birthday, he looked surprised. I hugged him and told him I was glad he was born. He took a couple of things to repair and vanished after he hugged me back.

We’ll have a birthday barbecue next weekend. This one was busy! As I write, Star is at her second Canine Good Citizenship class (she did great last week). And yesterday, Megan and I went swimming (more about that later) before we went to the county fair.

A quick review of my blog shows that I haven’t been since 2008, so it was about time. As you can see above, it was a beautiful day. Megan found a secret parking space, and off we went.

It was hard to decide what to do first, so we had some garlic fries while we walked around and scoped out the possibilities. We made a mental note of the sno cone truck for later:

They really are the most refreshing drink you can eat. Though, disappointingly, they did not have blue raspberry. Even though everyone knows that blue is the best flavor for anything frozen (other than margaritas).

Sno cone in hand, we went to admire the livestock and the kids who handle them. This little dappled cow with its freckled girl was my favorite:

Did you know? Cows are covered with a sort of pomade at these shows, which makes them look all shiny and pretty, but makes your hands instantly filthy and kind of gross. Worth it, though. Also, there were hand-washing stations everywhere.

I resisted the temptation to run my hands through these sheep’s curly fleece:

And I kind of had a crush on this handsome boy:

Ever wondered how to shear a sheep? Now’s your chance to learn how:

It was strange being in the building with all the fleece and hand-spun yarn and beautiful scarves and things without our Erica*. And not seeing any of her work entered for prizes (and winning them). But I got over it long enough to buy a hat, which turned out to have been made by a woman who lives about two miles away. She spun the wool herself, knitted it, adorned it with a unique abalone button, and voilà:

It was hard to believe I’d ever need that hat on a sunny day in the 80s, but I bet I will be glad I got it in a couple of months. And I got to meet a new neighbor!

Some apple (and cider) tasting later:

we were admiring quilts:

flower arrangements:

and some of the biggest pumpkins I’ve ever seen:

The day flew by. Suddenly, it was time to head home, full of fair food and happy memories. Until next year…

*We had a great chat today. They are definitely coming for Christmas. And Jessica loves her new school.

The finished product

The sharp-eyed among you may have noticed the frying pan on the stove in an earlier entry. In it was my attempt at one of the vaguest recipes I have ever attempted. It was one of Rose’s, and her daughter gave it to me to try. As one who doesn’t measure much, I have sympathy for a certain imprecision when it comes to amounts, but this was a little bit of a challenge.

For one thing, it didn’t say how much chicken* to start with. Other than that, it said 1 leek (I substituted shallot, since I had it and I doubt if the Hooterville store has leeks), 2 apples (“cut in squares”) and chicken broth (but now how much). Here’s the recipe:

Curry Chicken!

Brown the chicken in oil. Take out from the skillet.

1 leek

2-3 apples in squares, add.

2 tablespoons curry powder, add!

Fill with chicken broth. Add chicken. Let it boil 20 minutes in low temp. Eat with white rice.

I browned the chicken with the shallots and apples in a little canola oil. I have to admit that I have a horror of undercooked onions, and I thought the whole thing would taste better if everything was browned first. I used broth from my freezer and I had curry powder, though not the curry powder I wanted. Actually, when I was in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago, I looked all over for Sharwood’s, the curry powder of my youth, but could not find it. I ended up adding an extra tablespoon while remembering the curries Dad used to make for us in my long-ago youth.

The recipe turned out well, and I’d recommend trying it. Also, it was nice to make Rose’s recipe in her kitchen. It’s funny: I do tend to be superstitious, and I liked Rose tremendously, but I never feel haunted at all by her presence. If anything, I feel comforted and friendly. As Mark said at her funeral fiesta nearly two years ago, “She is everywhere here.”

*And I felt pretty damn guilty after seeing the pretty neighbor chickens, I can tell you.

On Sunday, my family and I finally had dinner together. It’s been a long time. We cancelled Thanksgiving, Jonathan couldn’t make it for Christmas, and somehow we’ve slipped into the new year without dining en famille. It’s been harder than ever to make our schedules match up since I started the jobette. So it was about time.

I made a salad and a new recipe: Spaghetti with Fresh Sopprassata. Apparently actual sopprassata is a kind of cured sausage, like salami, but this is an uncured, fresh version. Note that you need to start it the night before. I did an excellent job of misreading the recipe (or not reading it carefully enough), so I missed that part, and instead put it together in the morning, which is not the time you want to smell wine. Especially cheap Gallo wine bought for the purpose of cooking. I also missed the “extra can of crushed tomatoes” part, necessitating a trip to my sister’s pantry (fortunately, not the store, which is several miles away).

So, you have been warned. Here we go:

Spaghetti with Fresh Soppressata

4 garlic cloves
1 1/3 cups dry white wine
1 pound sweet Italian sausage, casings removed (I used turkey instead of pork, and if you like it spicy, you could use hot sausage instead)
1 teaspoon fennel seed
1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper (or more, for the spicy-minded)
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 small carrot, finely chopped
1 celery rib, finely chopped
One 28-ounce can plus one 14-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes, crushed, with their liquid
Salt
1 pound spaghetti
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1/4 cup chopped basil
1/4 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley

In a blender, puree the garlic, fennel, and peppers with 1/3 cup of the white wine. Transfer the mixture to a medium bowl. Add the sausage and knead lightly to combine. Cover with plastic and refrigerate overnight.

In a large, deep skillet, heat the olive oil. Add the sausage mixture, onion, carrot and celery and cook over medium heat breaking up lumps with a spoon, until lightly browned, 6 to 7 minutes. Add the remaining 1 cup of wine and cook, scraping up any browned bits, until nearly evaporated, about 5 minutes. Add the crushed tomatoes and their juices to the pan and season lightly with salt. Simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally, until thickened and reduced to about 5 cups, about 40 minutes.

In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook the spaghetti until just al dente. Drain, add the pasta to the sauce and toss with the grated cheese, basil and parsley.Toss the pasta over moderately high heat, until nicely coated, about 2 minutes. Serve immediately.

It turned out great and there wasn’t much left, although the recipe is supposed to serve 6. The perfect ending to the meal was one of Megan’s famous huckleberry pies. It’s worth having temporarily black teeth to eat one.

We had such a good time that we have promised each other to get together for dinner more often. Is it too late to make a new year’s resolution?

Hey! I just found something else I can’t do: bake cookies!

Notice that I didn’t say “make” cookies. My incompetence is even more impressive when you take into account that I was merely cutting pieces off logs of dough (made by my sister), applying them to a baking sheet, and putting them into the already heated oven.

Now you’re impressed, aren’t you?

The results were uniformly poor, though not in a uniform way. In fact, I should probably get extra credit for finding so many ways to make bad cookies. Some were discouragingly flat; others were lumpy; some were resolutely doughy in the center, while others were burned around the edges. Some were a winning combo of burned on the bottom while doughy in the middle. Some of them melted together during baking, so when I separated them, they had the odd look of having already been half eaten. Neatly eaten, but eaten all the same.

None of these beauty pageant problems would have really mattered to the exasperated bakers if we weren’t supposed to sell the damn things. Looking at the pitiful parade of cookies, it was pretty obvious that our only potential market was sugar-deprived elementary school students.

But it was a confectionery emergency. The cookies were to be sold at today’s Purge Party*, the annual fundraiser for Daisy Davis Pit Bull Rescue. Someone had promised to make 150 cookies for the sale, then backed out at the last minute, making it Megan’s problem. And I do mean problem.

I suggested that we make Rice Krispie treats. Although Megan objected that she had never made them, I assured her it was easy. So she raced down to the store, five bumpy miles each way, while I tended to the last batches of the saddest cookies in town.

She returned triumphant with shockingly expensive Rice Krispies ($7 a box, anyone?) marshmallows, and colorful sprinkles to make the finished product more festive. They turned out to be Suzy proof, and the day was saved. We also have enough unattractive cookies for the rest of our lives. Bonus!

*I can’t help it, but every time I hear this I picture a bunch of bulimics with balloons and noisemakers. It’s entirely possible that I will never grow up.

Kitten proof Christmas tree!

Yesterday morning, I heard the pantry door close and went to investigate. It was around 8:00 in the morning, so I figured it was Rob. But it was Megan, bearing bags of Christmas groceries. We divided up the list on Monday, and on Tuesday I braved the crowds to get my part on a day when all the other shoppers appeared to have had their brains removed or somehow become zombies while simultaneously equipping themselves with an outsize number of screaming kids. Megan shopped at 6:30 in the morning, when there are few shoppers, but the shelves are being stocked and there are huge carts and stockers everywhere you want to be. Also she was shopping after twelve hours of work.

I think I know who had the worse shopping experience.

While I was decanting bags in the pantry and feeding the cats, Megan put the gel tree you see above on the sliding glass doors in the living room to surprise me. “Now you finally have a tree the cats can’t mess with,” she said.

I have the best sister ever.

In the spirit of Doing Things Ahead, which I firmly believe is the key to surviving the holidays with a modicum of sanity left, I made Thursday night’s turkey chili on Wednesday (chili is always better the next day) and am starting the lengthy process of Christmas Eve’s parsnip vichyssoise today. We have had this soup for Christmas Eve dinner for many years, going way back to the halcyon days when Dad spent every other Christmas with us. I hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

Parsnip Vichyssoise

2 large leeks, white part only, halved lengthwise and sliced crosswise, 1/2 inch thick
2 & 1/2 pounds parsnips, peeled and cut into two inch chunks
3 medium boiling potatoes, peeled and cut into two inch chunks
8 garlic gloves, peeled and lightly crushed
1 onion, halved and sliced thinly
2 tablespoons light brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cardamom
6 cups chicken broth
4 ounces butter, cut into small pieces
3/4 cup fresh lemon juice
3 cups milk
2 cups cream (I use half and half)
Salt and freshly ground pepper
12 whole chives, plus 2 tablespoons, snipped

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In large, shallow roasting pan, combine the leeks, parsnips, potatoes, garlic, and onion. Sprinkle with cardamom and brown sugar and stir to combine. Pour two cups of stock over the vegetables and dot with the butter. Cover tightly with foil and bake for two hours, until the vegetables are very tender, stirring occasionally during cooking.

Transfer the vegetables and any liquid to a large saucepan. Add the remaining 4 cups of stock and the lemon juice. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes.

Working in small batches, transfer the vegetables and liquid to food processor and puree until smooth (I like it a little chunky). The soup can be prepared to this point up to two days ahead. Let cool, cover, and refrigerate. It may be necessary to thin the soup with a little stock before reheating.

To finish the soup, add the milk and cream and cook over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until warmed through. Do not boil. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve with whole chives and snipped chives for garnish.

A winter scene: fallen leaves, sprouting mushrooms beside my house

Mushrooms are as much a sign of winter around here as the advent of robins. Most of them are not as scenic as this one, which is rumored to be poisonous or possibly merely hallucinogenic. I left it alone after I took its picture. We’re slated to get five inches of rain this weekend, so the stage is set for winter, even though it technically isn’t here yet.

We may get rain from today through Christmas. Does Santa have a jet ski? Or at least a pair of really cute rain shoes?

But you don’t need Santa Claus when you have Santa Paul. I think I speak for many girls when I say I’d much prefer a white-haired, blue-eyed gent sweeping into my kitchen and making me a fabulous dinner than some degenerate old housebreaker leaving me tatty gifts and expecting me to make him cookies.

Since Paul lived here before me, he knew that he was up against in my kitchenette: three feet of counter space, a petite ovenette with one shelf, and no dishwasher. Still, he was able to produce the following:

1. He boned a turkey breast, glazed it with maple syrup, Dijon mustard, and crushed black peppercorms, and roasted it on a bed of celery, onions, carrots, and fresh tarragon. The “bed” was later strained and the pan juices used to make gravy.
2. Oven-roasted potatoes, parsnips, and sweet potatoes.
3. Zucchini fritters, as requested by Megan. Secret ingredient: matzo meal!
4. Green beans.
5. Pear and apple galette, served with fresh blueberries.

Santa Paul also has a well-trained elf who made sure I didn’t end up with a sink full of dishes.

It was the best Thursday night dinner ever!

Before

After

It took me over a year, but I finally have country-appropriate footwear. At least for winter.

In the second image, you can see my hard-won sneakers which cost as much as my beautiful Manolo Blahniks (in the first image) did in a consignment shop about 10 years ago. I just bought some pull-on rain boots, also in the second picture, which are just the thing to slip into to run over to Megan’s or check on the bees. Notice how I was able to find cute rain shoes.

I think we can all agree that the shoes from my city life are really not appropriate for my country life.

So, wearing my appropriate sneakers and my one fleece, Paul and I are heading to town today to get the materials for a splendid Thursday night dinner, which has the outstanding characteristic of Not Being Cooked by Me. It’s great when your visiting friend just happens to be a professional cook who caters to the stars in the Hamptons in the summer.

Last night, I was trying to get some dish from him on his celebrity clientele. Here’s what I got. He catered a fashion shoot for one of the Olsen twins, but couldn’t remember which one it was. He also did an event for Jerry Seinfeld.

Me: Did you meet him?

Paul: Yeah.

Me: What was he like? Was he nice?

Paul: Sure. He seemed pretty nice.

Me: (still trying) Was he funny?

Paul: Well, he didn’t give me his opinions on world events or confide in me or anything.

At this point, I realized I wasn’t going to get anything good, though you’ll be pleased to hear that Jerry is a good tipper. I promise you will, however, hear all about tonight’s dinner in all its glorious detail. Maybe even tomorrow.

We’re up to 20.5 inches of rain for the season. See above!

After last week’s meatapalooza, I went vegetarian – and possibly even vegan – this week, with:

Curried Lentils

1 medium onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 tablespoon finely chopped peeled fresh ginger
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon turmeric*
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon curry powder or paste
2 cups water
1 1/2 cups dried red lentils (10 oz)
1 (13- to 14-oz) can unsweetened coconut milk
1 lb zucchini (2 medium), cut into 1/4-inch dice

Cook onion in oil in a 3 1/2- to 4-quart heavy pot over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until edges are golden, about 6 minutes. Add ginger and garlic and cook, stirring, 1 minute. Add cumin, coriander, turmeric, salt, and curry powder or paste, and cook, stirring, 1 minute.

Stir in water, lentils, and coconut milk, then simmer, covered, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes. Stir in zucchini and simmer, covered, until lentils and zucchini are tender, about 15 minutes. Season with salt and serve with cilantro sprigs scattered on top.

Notes: As usual, I upped the garlic and cumin. You could use chicken or vegetable broth in place of the water. Supposedly, this serves 6-8 people, but we ate the whole thing. Served it with brown rice.

*Question: does turmeric do anything besides stain everything yellow? Enquiring minds want to know.

Well, the meatloaf was a big hit. “Three thumbs up” from my sister. I’m definitely adding it to my repertoire.

Last night’s dinner featured a guest star, our brother. He usually has fire meetings on Thursdays, but decided to duck out on this one to have dinner with us and bring us up to date on the firehouse gossip, or as he calls it, “As the Hose Blows”. There’s a surprising amount of drama in a small town. He also brought banana bread for dessert, and I couldn’t stop laughing when I realized that dinner and dessert looked nearly identical.

I’m easily amused that way. I also laugh for miles after seeing the dairy company Clover Stornetta’s billboards on my way through Santa Rosa. My favorite is a cow dressed up like Dirty Harry with the slogan “Clo ahead, milk my day”. And I don’t even like milk.

Speaking of not liking things, the meatloaf did a great job of dealing with all the phood phobias, though it did contain an egg and I never told them that I put in Heinz chili sauce instead of ketchup, which they don’t like. I’d like to mention here that Rob is not at all picky and would cheerfully eat any and all of the food outlawed by his in-laws.

Old Fashioned Meatloaf, Suzy Style

Half a large onion
3 garlic cloves
1 stalk celery
4 green onions
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce (I used a little more)
2/3 cup ketchup (I used chili sauce instead)
1 pound ground turkey
1 pound turkey sausage, casings removed
1 cup fresh bread crumbs
1 egg, beaten
1/3 cup parsley leaves (stolen from my sister’s garden)

Heat oven to 350 degrees.

The original recipe says to mince the vegetables. I threw then all in a food processor so they were finely chopped, then sautéed them for about ten minutes. The recipe says to use 2 tablespoons of butter for this (!), but I just sprayed the pan with Pam and it was fine.

Stir in salt and pepper, Worcestershire sauce, and 1/3 cup ketchup, and cook, stirring, for one minute.

I let the veggie mixture cool while beating the egg with a whisk in a large bowl. Then I mixed the meat into it (note: the recipe calls for 1 & 1/2 pounds of ground chuck and 3/4 pound of ground pork). I ran the bread and parsley together in the food processor and then tossed that in the bowl, along with the cooled vegetable mixture I mixed it together with my hands, but you could use a big spoon instead.

I would have put the other 1/3 cup of chili sauce on top if the food police hadn’t been there. I packed it all into a loaf pan and covered it with foil for half an hour, leaving it uncovered for the remaining half hour of cooking time.

We had mashed Yukon Gold potatoes and steamed green beans with it, and it was just the thing on a cold, rainy evening. When I walked home, I was happy to see the warm lights of my house glowing through the dark, rainy trees, and the balcony Christmas lights were an added pleasure. I stood there in the rain for a minute, enjoying the bright colors in the darkness.

Mushrooms and art in my garden

Mushrooms are as much a sign of winter around here as the appearance of robins. The poor saps come here for the winter, if you can believe it. The wiser whales, however, have already begun their majestic migration to Mexico. Guess which species has the bigger brain?

Today I tested the waterproofness of my new sneakers by sneaking over to my sister’s place in the rain. I pulled my hat down over my forehead and zipped my jacket up to my ears. Halfway there, I realized that I was not carrying an umbrella. Am I turning into a country girl? Oh, the humanity!

At Megan’s, I went in through the garden gate and slinked over to the parsley section, where I picked as much as I needed for tonight’s dinner. The fresh smell of parsley was delightful in the rain-washed air. Back home, undetected, I went in through the laundry/pantry/cat diningroom door. The floor there is cement, and equipped with a drain, making it useful when the cats spill their water (a nearly daily occurrence). I recently moved the coat tree in there, too, so I had a place to hang up my wet things and slip into slippers.

Tonight, I’m attempting meatloaf for the first time I can remember. I’ll use ground turkey, since none of us eats beef*, and hope for the best. I’ll also make mashed potatoes and green beans for the full Mad Men era effect. If only I had the long-suffering Carla to clean up after me!

*It’s not easy to come up with a dinner once a week for 4 or 5 people who are picky eaters. Outlawed foods include beef, pork, lamb, fish, eggs, mustard, raisins, yogurt, mayonnaise, and others too numerous to mention. Making us – or attempting to make us – eat everything on our plates when we were kids seems to have backfired.

Friday sunrise

Those of you who were perturbed to hear about our non-Thanksgiving will be happy to hear that we had dinner with a friend on Friday night. No turkeys were harmed in the production of this dinner.

Our friend/nephew Jarrett lives about a four hour drive from Hooterville. We have known him since he was four years old or so, back when he and his mother and my brother and sister lived on boats at Pier 39 in San Francisco. When Jarrett was in high school, he was having a difficult time in the city, so he came up here and lived with my brother and sister in turns while he finished school, much as Megan lived with me for her last couple of years of high school.

That kind of thing creates a special, parent-esque bond, even for the most unmaternal of us, so Jarrett is part of the family.

He drove down on Friday, while Megan and I did a quick shop for groceries, along with some early Christmas stocking items. We put a pork roast in my tiny oven, and later added potatoes, parsnips, and carrots. One dish dinner! It also gave us time to catch up on each other’s news and drink wine, which is always good.

Jarrett brought a recipe for Dutch apple pie with a parmesan crust*, which he and Megan made at her house, my oven being fully occupied. As you can see, it looks delicious:

Megan used brown sugar instead of white, and much, much less of it, and skipped the raisins, which she hates. Recipes, after all, are just a suggestion.

*You can find the recipe here.

The soup turned out okay, not great. I added bamboo shoots and water chestnuts. In retrospect, I should have chopped up the bamboo shoots for easier eating, and added snow peas for some green. Glass noodles would have been a good addition, too.

If I make it again, I’ll mince up the garlic and ginger, or use some of that lemongrass paste you can get in a tube. It was annoying to dig it out while eating. I’d also add more chili paste, or possibly red curry paste. Though we added more lime juice when it was in the bowls, it kind of needed something, we’re not sure what. Oh, well – it was good to try something new.

Thai Chicken Soup

1 can (14 oz) coconut milk
1 can (14 oz) chicken broth
6 quarter-sized slices of fresh ginger
1 stalk lemongrass, cut in 1 inch pieces
1 pound boneless, skinless breast, cut into 1 inch chunks
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon Thai chili paste
1/4 cup each fresh basil and cilantro, julienned

In medium saucepan, combine coconut milk, broth, ginger, and lemongrass, and bring to a boil. Add chicken, lime juice, fish sauce, sugar, and chili paste. Reduce heat and simmer until chicken is firm and opaque, about 10 minutes. Serve garnished with basil and cilantro.

After I made the soup, I decided to go for a walk beside the ocean. The coast here is rough and rocky:

so more often than not you’re likely to be walking along those dangerous cliffs than on a sandy beach. These particular cliffs are not far from the Hooterville post office.

It was a clear, sunny day, though the temperature was only about 45 degrees (up from the morning’s 27). Here it seems that in the winter, clear = cold and rainy/cloudy = warmer. I guess the clouds act as insulation. But on Thursday, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky:

Well, maybe one.

Dinner’s ready!

As promised, I made something new for Thursday night dinner. Finally!

As usual, it was more delicious than it looks in the photo. I would not add “food stylist” to the skimpy credentials on my resume. As it is, the things I can do are odd and mostly not all that useful. My ability to select the most expensive piece in estate jewelry ads in “The New Yorker” springs to mind. Never made a penny from that one.

I should work harder (or at all) at my original 6th grade goal of becoming idle rich.

While I’m doing that, enjoy the new recipe. I hope to have another one for you next week, even if I’m not a millionaire by then. A girl can dream.

Sausage and Bean Casserole

1 medium onion, chopped
16 ounces smoked turkey sausage (I used Aidells garlic and artichoke), cut into 1/4 inch thick slices
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 & 1/2 cups low sodium chicken broth (I used homemade)
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons tomato paste*
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cans (16 ounce) cannellini beans (or other white beans), drained
1 bay leaf
1/8 teaspoon cayenne (I used a few drops of Tapatio hot sauce)
3 slices bread (I used some fabulous artisan bread from the local bakery)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Preheat oven to 375.

Saute onion, garlic and sausage until browned, 5-10 minutes. Stir in chicken broth, scraping pan to loosen any browned bits. Stir in brown sugar, tomato paste, thyme, pepper(s), beans, and bay leaf. Bring to a boil; cover, reduce heat, and simmer for 5 minutes.

While the mixture is simmering, pulse bread in food processor until it forms coarse crumbs. The crumbs should measure about a cup and a half.

Pour mixture into casserole and sprinkle breadcrumbs over surface. Bake for 15 minutes, or until crumbs are browned. Sprinkle with parsley before serving.

*One of the many things I learned while living in Italy was to buy tomato paste in a tube. Keep it in the refrigerator after opening. You’ll always have tomato paste on hand, and you won’t have to worry about what to do with the rest of a can.

On Sunday, Megan and I got our chores out of the way in the morning, and then she came over to my house for a fun, girlie afternoon.

First, we put a load of her laundry in, and made ribollita soup for that night’s dinner. As usual, we had the ingredients between us, and as it simmered away, we watched “Sex and the City 2″ and did our nails. We enjoyed it as much as we did when we saw it at the theater in the summer. It’s been a not great year with not great weather, and neither of us can remember the last time we actually went on vacation or even left the state*, so we need all the escapism we can get.

People have been asking me where the Thursday night dinner recipes are. The sad truth is that I haven’t made anything new recently. So this week, I have vowed to make something new. I have a couple of ideas in mind, but suggestions and recipes are always welcome!

*With only one month left to go this year, I have gone to San Francisco exactly once, for one night. And that’s the only non-Hooterville place I have been this year. You can see why I’m planning to let my passport expire for the first time in my entire life, including childhood. You don’t need one when you never go anywhere or do anything. $100 is a lot to pay for wishful thinking.

I picked these apples myself!

It was one of those days that turned into an inadvertent cooking frenzy(ette). I started the family Thursday dinner this morning (Megan kindly dropped off the missing ingredients of baby spinach and fresh ginger on her way home from work this morning), and in the course of looking for things in the refrigerator, noticed that there were things that needed some attention.

Some heirloom cherry tomatoes looked a little sad, a red pepper was showing its age, and there was a partial apple and a quarter of a somewhat world-weary lemon.

I added the tomatoes to tonight’s dinner, roasted the red pepper over my gas stove’s burner, and decided to make an apple crumble for dessert.

I set off to my brother’s former residence at the end of the driveway. As I walked through the dust in the bright sunshine, I thought that I’d better enjoy the puff dust while it’s here. It will be mud soon enough.

On my way, I met Mark’s parents, who are visiting here for a couple of weeks from Mexico City. I was astonished to learn that Mark’s father is 90 years old. He looks about 20 years younger. Yesterday, he was helping Mark fill in the water ditches at Jonathan’s old place. Maybe that’s the secret to aging well: keep moving!

I soon filled my basket with apples and headed home, where I used up the leftover apple and lemon to make the crumble. I love using up leftovers.

Tonight’s dinner is:

North Indian Style Spinach Chicken

3 tablespoons canola oil (I used about 1 tablespoon)
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
1 large onion, chopped
2-in. piece fresh ginger
4 large garlic cloves
2 teaspoons each ground coriander and cumin
2 teaspoons kosher salt (I put in much less – maybe 1/2 teaspoon)
1 1/2 pounds boned, skinned chicken thighs, cut into 1-in. chunks (I used breasts instead)
1 cup diced canned tomatoes
1 pound baby spinach
1/2 bunch cilantro
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

Mince garlic, onions, and ginger. Heat oil over medium heat in large saucepan. Add onion, ginger, garlic, turmeric, cayenne, coriander, cumin, and salt. Cook, stirring often, until lightly browned, 5 to 7 minutes.

Add chicken and cook, stirring often, until no longer pink on the outside. Add tomatoes and simmer, covered, 8 minutes. This is where I added the cherry tomatoes.

Stir in spinach and simmer, covered, until wilted, about 3 minutes. Meanwhile, chop enough cilantro leaves and tender stems to yield 1 cup. Stir into pot, along with lemon juice. Serve with cooked rice.