I must warn all readers up front- I'm not exactly what you'd call "inspired" tonight. Nevertheless, I shall try and make a go of it.
Today has been hard because I don't feel very well physically.
Today has been hard because I always feel a wee bit depressed when the weather is gloomy.
BUT MOSTLY...today has been hard because I am struggling with a little thing called "CONTENTMENT".
I have tried time and time again to "bloom where I am planted", and thanks to God's grace, patience, and everlasting love for me, I feel as though I have come a looooooooong way in that regard. I am now at the point in my life where I can accept the fact that I just might live in Kenosha for the rest of my life, and it wouldn't be an utter disaster. But every once in a while, I get bit awfully hard by the travel bug, which leads to getting bit by the curiosity bug, which leads to hours of poking around on the internet ( I prefer to call it "research"), trying yet again to find that "perfect" place for us to magically relocate to. Well, after the fruitless hours have been spent, I inevitably crash into a severe funk when once again, I am enveloped with an overwhelming feeling of A) having wasted my precious time, and B) being completely, hopelessly, and utterly TRAPPED. Now, Mom; calm down, I love to make it sound so much worse than it really is. But yes; I do feel quite blue today. I am also WAY overdue for a date with my husband, but that's beside the point. Kind of. ANYWAY. Tonight I want to write about one place that continually calls me back...the land of pristine sweet tea...gorgeously green mountains...the best fried chicken I've ever had (besides my dad's)...wonderfully warm weather...and barbeque sauce. Sumptuously cider-y vinegar-y barbeque sauce, flowing in a dazzling mess down my chin, enveloping me in its sweet, tangy, and simply intoxicating aroma, sending that lovely tingly feeling throughout my entire nasal passages (too much?)... Yes, my friend; I am speaking of the one and only Carolina-style barbeque sauce. North Carolina, to be precise. I love North Carolina. I would move there tomorrow. It's as simple as that. However, due to a little thing called "Life", the Carolina dream is going to have to wait for a little while, but that's okay. More time to "research"!!! HA! *ahem*
Anyway...after procrastinating for many years, I have decided to try my hand at homemade North Carolina-style barbeque sauce. I have one (and only one!!) reason for my seemingly nonsensical procrastination:
1) I have been, since childhood, severely and irrevocably in love with Sweet Baby Ray's Original Barbeque Sauce. "The Sauce is The Boss" slogan emblazoned across the back of the bottle is no falsehood. I have never really had much of a desire to try anything else, so I figured, heck; why fix it if it ain't broke???
And that's really the only reason. Oh, believe me; I have read through many, many homemade barbeque sauce recipes, only to wonder to myself,"Could it really possibly be even one iota better than "The Sauce"? I highly doubt it." But lately I have been finding myself longing...longing...for something to remind me and bring me back to my beloved old North Carolina. And since I cannot afford to take three vacations in one year, I shall make do with an honest attempt at something culinary (naturally!!) to bring me back to the land of nostril-tingling barbeque sauce. However, I will not be able to attempt this until the weekend, so ya'll are just gonna have to WAIT for a report back on whether I experience triumph, or agonizing defeat. Until then, here's a delightful recipe for some superb burgers starring "The Sauce" as the star ingredient:
Mary's Splendid Burgers
-Makes 3 big 'uns.
1 lb. ground chuck
2/3 c. Sweet Baby Ray's Original Barbeque Sauce
1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon dried minced onion
1/8 tsp. garlic powder
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
-Place chuck in a large bowl. Add the remaining ingredients, and using your hands, mix well. Do not overwork the meat. Form into three large patties, making a slight indentation in the center of each burger so as to avoid the DREADED BURGER BULGE!!! After performing bulge control, place burgers onto a platter and whisk them out to a gas grill preheated to medium high. Grill burgers for 5 minutes on one side, and DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT poke, prod, squish, touch, or tamper with the burgers in any way, shape, or form. After resisting the urge to meddle, flip burgers, then proceed to grill for 5 more minutes for a perfect medium-well burger. If you like your burgers a little more on the gross side, you may reduce grilling time to 4 minutes on each side. If you like your burgers burnt, then I'll let my sister Angela know that she has a few kindred spirits out there after all.
This recipe doubles and triples beautifully. I have sucessfully prepared these for a group of 12, and there were many compliments to the chef (just being honest!). Now go out and grill, and don't give me any of that "But it's only April!!" garbage.
And because a perfect burger needs a perfect beverage, I present to you the greatest culinary epiphany my husband Steve has ever experienced in his life:
Steve's Sublime Sweet Tea
Bring 6 cups of water to a simmer in a large saucepan. Turn off heat, then add:
4 Lipton tea bags
1 Bigelow "I Love Lemon" tea bag
-Steep for 2 minutes.
Then add:
1 Bigelow "Constant Comment" tea bag.
-Steep all 6 bags for 2 more minutes, then remove from pan. Then add:
1 tsp. no-pulp orange juice
1 1/2 c. sugar
Stir well; then pour over a standard-size pitcher filled with ice. Stir, and enjoy!
Steve has a tendency to have these kinds of epiphanies when I'm gone. This particular concoction was hatched while I was away at handbell choir practice one Saturday morning. I came home, and Steve handed me a glass of said concoction. I proceeded to drink liquid sunshine, and it filled me with all of the reminiscent delight of a lazy summer afternoon. You simply must try it. Oh, a word to the wise- remove the tea bag tags BEFORE you put them into the saucepan, and be sure to turn off the heat BEFORE placing the tea bags into the pan. There were a few charred remnants of tea bag tags on the stovetop after Steve's culinary experimentations. You can put two and two together about what happened there...
I could go on, but I simply haven't the strength! I leave you with two things:
1) Remember- I'll be reporting back about the results of my attempt at homemade barbeque sauce over the weekend!
2) Remember one of the greatest things about cooking: You may not be able to travel the world, or live in your "dream" location, but you can always bring a little bit of world into your kitchen one great recipe at a time. Be content, but always stay curious about the world around you. :)
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
On responsibility and fine cheese
GASP. I'm blogging again! It's been too long, and I am realizing how much I love this. Ever since I have started this blog, I have been noticing a gnawing feeling of responsibility toward said blog, like the feeling of caring for a small child. Well, it's definitely not as intense as that, but there's definitely a feeling of "I AM NEGLECTING THIS POOR DEFENSELESS BLOG, AND I NEED TO STEP UP AND BE THE MOMMY *ahem* WRITER OF THIS HERE BLOG!" And that's kind of how I've been feeling lately. A sense of responsibility. And wouldn't you know it, this sense of responsibility has spilled over into my slight obsession with food. Cheese, namely. Fine cheese. Gruyere, to be very specific. One may ask, "What on earth does Gruyere have to do with responsibility?" Well, I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED, because I shall now commence with my introduction to this fine fromage.
Once upon a time, Steve and I were in a book group. Well, I am still in a book group. A different one. Well...it's a long story, and even though I am a little too gifted at telling long stories, I shall resist this time around and get to the point in my usual round-about fashion. So, yes. The book group. Off we went to our friend's home, and of course, I was fascinated with what was being made for dinner. An open-faced chicken cordon bleu!! How progressive is that?!? I watched as Carissa (the wife of the lovely couple who was hosting that night's discussion) spread honey dijon mustard over the chicken breasts, then place two leaves of fresh spinach on top, followed by a thin slice of honey ham, and then crowned with a generous sprinkle of Swiss cheese. Oh yeah. You know I brought that recipe home that night! After Carissa so generously printed out an extra copy for me from Epicurious (my introduction, by the way, to that glorious website!!), I noticed the recipe said to use Gruyere. What. The. Heck. Is. Gruyere. "Well,"said Carissa,"Gruyere would definitely be the best. But I just couldn't bring myself to buy it this time." Which, of course, me being the cheap half-Russian Jew that I am, I completely understood. And then I knew that Gruyere and I would have a long way to go before we could reconcile our economic differences. It was just too bad! After the episode with the open-faced chicken cordon bleu, I began to see Gruyere pop up EVERYWHERE in the foodie world. I would peruse my stack of library-obtained issues of Bon Appetit, and there it was! In nearly every issue, Gruyere would pop its pricey little face into mine at least once or twice. I was starting to get seriously annoyed. So, I did what every responsible self-proclaimed foodie must do. I made open-faced chicken cordon bleu, and I took my cheap self to the grocery store and BOUGHT A SMALL WEDGE OF GRUYERE. It nearly killed me. I took it home. I opened it. And then...I smelled it. Hmm. I was highly suspicious. So suspicious, in fact, that I took the coward's way out and bought a pre-shredded bag of Swiss cheese. I consoled myself by reasoning that, hey; at least it was Sargento Swiss cheese. Who was I kidding? I was a coward!! And so I let that beautiful wedge rot in my fridge, and I did not think or speak of Gruyere for 3 years. Every time I saw a recipe that used that loathsome rot, I would automatically substitute Swiss cheese without giving it a second thought. It was a code. Gruyere=don't even bother, or Gruyere=Swiss. UNTIL...
One fateful day, I was perusing Bon Appetit, looking for some inspiration, when I stumbled across the most charming article on homemade mayonnaise that I had ever read in my entire life. The author? None other than Ms. Molly Wizenberg, the new darling of the foodie scene and recently published author of "A Homemade Life", a wonderfully touching memoir of her family, life, and her decision to leave academia to pursue her passion of great food and great cooking. Yes. I had found a most kindred spirit in Ms. Molly, and I knew I had to read more of her delightful writing. And so I did. I devoured issue after issue of Bon Appetit, scouring the pages for her column, and I read. And read. And cooked. And read some more. Then I visited her blog, "Orangette", and found it just as delightful and inspiring. And so it went for well over a year, and THEN...her book was published, and I packed my boys into the van, and off we went to Barnes and Noble in pursuit of said book. I went. I found it. I bought it. Me, the half-Russian Jew who will wait AGES for a book to come to the library so I can read it for FREE, bought a brand-new, RIDICULOUSLY expensive book at the most superbookstores of superbookstores. I must have lost my mind. I voraciously read as much I could while the boys played with the train table in the children's section (someone needs a gold star for that idea), and when I realized it was dinner time, I panicked, then called Steve to plead with him to pick up a pizza on his way home. So much for good cooking. Anyway, I read the book in 2 days (a small miracle for a mommy of two boys under 4), and proceeded to feel empty inside when I was done. So I read it again, this time putting sticky tabs on all of the recipes I wanted to try, and started out with lemon ginger scones. A smashing success. Banana Bread. Ditto. AND THEN...it was time to try Bouchons au Thon, literally, "Tuna Corks", an outstanding little meal to which my boys fondly refer to as,"Fish Cakes", because they are baked in a muffin tin. I studied the recipe; it looked extremely simple. But lo and behold, there staring up at me from the list of ingredients, was none other ONE ENTIRE CUP OF GRUYERE, SHREDDED!! So it had come to this!! At that moment, I knew. I knew it was time to do the responsible thing, shed my fears from the past, and emerge forth into a shining new era of foodie-ism. It was time to grow up. It was time to really, truly give Gruyere an honest try, stink and all. And so...I did. I bought a small wedge of Gruyere from Trader Joe's, and sallied forth into my beloved kitchen with a gallantry I had not yet known. It was time. I opened the wedge. I sliced off the most petite sliver imaginable, and proceeded to eat it. Such cheese. After about 10 more petite slivers, I finally got started on the actual recipe. As the Bouchons baked, they gave off the most heavenly of rich and nutty aromas, and browned beautifully on top- you just knew it HAD to be the Gruyere. We devoured each and every darling little "Fish Cake", and I knew, after all these years, that Gruyere and I had finally reconciled our differences, and I had taken full responsibility for my self-proclaimed foodie-ism and faced one of my worst culinary nightmares head-on.
So where does that leave us? Whether it's Gruyere, boning a duck, balancing your checkbook, being honest with yourself, poaching figs, or setting a pan of Bananas Foster on fire, my message is this: face your fears. They may not be as scary as you think.
Oh, and because I'm not a tease:
http://projects.washingtonpost.com/recipes/2009/03/04/bouchons-au-thon/
One thing about the recipe:
Feel free to substitute high-quality sour cream (such as Breakstone's or Daisy) for the creme fraiche. Unlike Gruyere, creme fraiche is NOT everything its cracked up to be (my apologies to creme fraiche enthusiasts out there). So there you go. BE FEARLESS!! And always, always be responsible for the things you consider to be important.
Once upon a time, Steve and I were in a book group. Well, I am still in a book group. A different one. Well...it's a long story, and even though I am a little too gifted at telling long stories, I shall resist this time around and get to the point in my usual round-about fashion. So, yes. The book group. Off we went to our friend's home, and of course, I was fascinated with what was being made for dinner. An open-faced chicken cordon bleu!! How progressive is that?!? I watched as Carissa (the wife of the lovely couple who was hosting that night's discussion) spread honey dijon mustard over the chicken breasts, then place two leaves of fresh spinach on top, followed by a thin slice of honey ham, and then crowned with a generous sprinkle of Swiss cheese. Oh yeah. You know I brought that recipe home that night! After Carissa so generously printed out an extra copy for me from Epicurious (my introduction, by the way, to that glorious website!!), I noticed the recipe said to use Gruyere. What. The. Heck. Is. Gruyere. "Well,"said Carissa,"Gruyere would definitely be the best. But I just couldn't bring myself to buy it this time." Which, of course, me being the cheap half-Russian Jew that I am, I completely understood. And then I knew that Gruyere and I would have a long way to go before we could reconcile our economic differences. It was just too bad! After the episode with the open-faced chicken cordon bleu, I began to see Gruyere pop up EVERYWHERE in the foodie world. I would peruse my stack of library-obtained issues of Bon Appetit, and there it was! In nearly every issue, Gruyere would pop its pricey little face into mine at least once or twice. I was starting to get seriously annoyed. So, I did what every responsible self-proclaimed foodie must do. I made open-faced chicken cordon bleu, and I took my cheap self to the grocery store and BOUGHT A SMALL WEDGE OF GRUYERE. It nearly killed me. I took it home. I opened it. And then...I smelled it. Hmm. I was highly suspicious. So suspicious, in fact, that I took the coward's way out and bought a pre-shredded bag of Swiss cheese. I consoled myself by reasoning that, hey; at least it was Sargento Swiss cheese. Who was I kidding? I was a coward!! And so I let that beautiful wedge rot in my fridge, and I did not think or speak of Gruyere for 3 years. Every time I saw a recipe that used that loathsome rot, I would automatically substitute Swiss cheese without giving it a second thought. It was a code. Gruyere=don't even bother, or Gruyere=Swiss. UNTIL...
One fateful day, I was perusing Bon Appetit, looking for some inspiration, when I stumbled across the most charming article on homemade mayonnaise that I had ever read in my entire life. The author? None other than Ms. Molly Wizenberg, the new darling of the foodie scene and recently published author of "A Homemade Life", a wonderfully touching memoir of her family, life, and her decision to leave academia to pursue her passion of great food and great cooking. Yes. I had found a most kindred spirit in Ms. Molly, and I knew I had to read more of her delightful writing. And so I did. I devoured issue after issue of Bon Appetit, scouring the pages for her column, and I read. And read. And cooked. And read some more. Then I visited her blog, "Orangette", and found it just as delightful and inspiring. And so it went for well over a year, and THEN...her book was published, and I packed my boys into the van, and off we went to Barnes and Noble in pursuit of said book. I went. I found it. I bought it. Me, the half-Russian Jew who will wait AGES for a book to come to the library so I can read it for FREE, bought a brand-new, RIDICULOUSLY expensive book at the most superbookstores of superbookstores. I must have lost my mind. I voraciously read as much I could while the boys played with the train table in the children's section (someone needs a gold star for that idea), and when I realized it was dinner time, I panicked, then called Steve to plead with him to pick up a pizza on his way home. So much for good cooking. Anyway, I read the book in 2 days (a small miracle for a mommy of two boys under 4), and proceeded to feel empty inside when I was done. So I read it again, this time putting sticky tabs on all of the recipes I wanted to try, and started out with lemon ginger scones. A smashing success. Banana Bread. Ditto. AND THEN...it was time to try Bouchons au Thon, literally, "Tuna Corks", an outstanding little meal to which my boys fondly refer to as,"Fish Cakes", because they are baked in a muffin tin. I studied the recipe; it looked extremely simple. But lo and behold, there staring up at me from the list of ingredients, was none other ONE ENTIRE CUP OF GRUYERE, SHREDDED!! So it had come to this!! At that moment, I knew. I knew it was time to do the responsible thing, shed my fears from the past, and emerge forth into a shining new era of foodie-ism. It was time to grow up. It was time to really, truly give Gruyere an honest try, stink and all. And so...I did. I bought a small wedge of Gruyere from Trader Joe's, and sallied forth into my beloved kitchen with a gallantry I had not yet known. It was time. I opened the wedge. I sliced off the most petite sliver imaginable, and proceeded to eat it. Such cheese. After about 10 more petite slivers, I finally got started on the actual recipe. As the Bouchons baked, they gave off the most heavenly of rich and nutty aromas, and browned beautifully on top- you just knew it HAD to be the Gruyere. We devoured each and every darling little "Fish Cake", and I knew, after all these years, that Gruyere and I had finally reconciled our differences, and I had taken full responsibility for my self-proclaimed foodie-ism and faced one of my worst culinary nightmares head-on.
So where does that leave us? Whether it's Gruyere, boning a duck, balancing your checkbook, being honest with yourself, poaching figs, or setting a pan of Bananas Foster on fire, my message is this: face your fears. They may not be as scary as you think.
Oh, and because I'm not a tease:
http://projects.washingtonpost.com/recipes/2009/03/04/bouchons-au-thon/
One thing about the recipe:
Feel free to substitute high-quality sour cream (such as Breakstone's or Daisy) for the creme fraiche. Unlike Gruyere, creme fraiche is NOT everything its cracked up to be (my apologies to creme fraiche enthusiasts out there). So there you go. BE FEARLESS!! And always, always be responsible for the things you consider to be important.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Counting my blessings (while dreaming of lobster)
Today is one of those days where I am reminded in no small way how incredibly blessed I am. After chatting with a very dear friend who has some very difficult decisions to make, the boys and I had a good old-fashioned "barn raising" with the Lincoln Logs, and as I sat there with them, I couldn't help (in between preventing the older one from "playing the drums" on the smaller one's back, and keeping the younger one from utterly destroying the aforementioned barn) but think,"I have it ridiculously good. I really do." Despite sciatica, broken bones, endless winters, and a husband with a long commute, God has heaped blessings upon innumerable blessings on my head, and all I need to do is take a good look at what I have while saying,"Thank You, God." I usually don't wax too philosopical these days, so I'll move on by saying that one of the things I count among my greatest blessings are the wonderful memories I have of delicious dinners that I have had with husband, especially certain culinary experiences we have encountered while traveling. Yes; I know I am odd and slightly obsessed with eating/food/cooking, but would I be a respectable American citizen if I wasn't just the teensiest bit obsessed with food? I should say not!! *ahem* Anyway, one dining experience that has stood out in my mind lately has been the infamous "Lobster Dinner while on our honeymoon in Maine". I knew that this was one food story that I definitely wanted to share on this here blog, so HERE WE GO...
Ahhh. Maine. Beautiful Maine. The most perfect place to be in August. At least, August of 2004. The last place on earth I'd want to be in January, but nevertheless; an ideal location for two newlyweds who decided that the last thing they wanted to do on their honeymoon was to go to Door County, The Dells, "Up North", or any other typical Wisconsin getaway that most Wisconsinites would see as perfectly acceptable for a honeymoon getaway (no offense, typical Wisconsinites). So where did we go? Niagara Falls. Vermont. Bar Harbor, Maine. Portland, Maine (you guys REALLY need to consider putting in street signs. One would be a good start). New Haven, CT (meh). AND (drum roll, please!!) CLEVELAND, OH!!!!! Hey. Don't knock it. We had a fantastic time at the Indians game, and for me to have a fantastic time at a baseball game is, well, nothing short of a miracle. AND, of course, being the lunatics that we are, we drove. No planes for us. Just a good old-fashioned road trip, and we had a ball. We knew one of the highlights of our time spent in Maine would be a real, honest-to-goodness, Maine-caught lobster dinner. The best part? It was going to be paid for by Steve's company. Yep. We were going to go all out, and after resting from our ridiculous 7-hour jaunt from Middlebury, Vermont, to Bar Harbor, Maine (we were naive enough to take the scenic route, forgetting to factor in one teeny-tiny little obstacle: MOUNTAINS, and lots of 'em), we found the fanciest place to eat lobster at in Bar Harbor, and quickly made reservations at the Rose Garden Restaurant for the following evening. After a small glitch of plans, which involved me needing to stay in our room all the next day and drink vast amounts of cranberry juice ( no further details are needed- trust me, you really don't want to know), we rescheduled our dinner for the following evening and watched old reruns of "Three's Company" instead. Thankfully, I made a speedy recovery, and before I knew it, we were dressed to the nines and heading out the door to enjoy a most opulent lobster dinner.
The Rose Garden Restaurant was the "sponsored" restaurant of the Bluenose Inn, a simply gorgeous hotel just outside of Bar Harbor. We chose it partly because of my childish glee over the name "Bluenose Inn", but mostly because it was FANCY FANCY FANCY. And that was exactly what we were going for. Steve wore a most handsome deep navy dress shirt and perfectly fitting gray dress pants, both of which have disappeared from the face of the earth since that day, and I wore my cherished pink and white diagonal plaid dress (which I bought from J.Crew days before our wedding), and a delicate white cardigan to accompany the ensemble. Oh yeah. We were, as Steve is wont to say, stylin' and profilin'!!! We were quickly and ceremoniously ushered in to a perfectly charming dining area that was decorated completely in roses and garden...STUFF. It was beautiful. It reminded me of being in an English garden. We began to survey the menu, which also was beautiful and weighed about 5 pounds. Shall we begin the first course? Very well.
Steve ordered: The Seafood Bisque
Mary ordered: Sir William's Prickly Pear and Pomegranate Chilled Soup
Steve's soup was the epitome of an outstanding bisque. Thick, creamy, so very comforting and a luxurious, velvety texture that cried out to be savoured. I also got a kick out of the little tentacles poking out here and there, but I restrained my enthusiasm and ate like an adult. My soup could not have been more different than Steve's, but it was delicious as well. When the waiter brought out my soup, I waited until he left, then gleefully whispered to Steve,"It's PINK!!!" Yes. I had a bowl of bright pink soup sitting in front of me, with a glorious swizzle of some purple stuff sitting on top of the pinkness. I ate it. All of it. It was very, very good, but also excruciatingly sweet. It's one of those things I am not quite sure if I would still like, due to how my tastes have changed in the past 5 years. At any rate, the first course was a smashing success. Next course, please!
We both ordered: The Maine Lobster Dinner.
Perfection. Velvety, buttery, not in the least bit tough or sinewy. Drenched in a butter sauce and accompanied by some delectable baby potatoes and sauteed patty-pan squash. We savored each and every bite. And that's all I have to say about that. Are you ready for dessert?? Very well.
Steve ordered: A Trio of Sorbet nested in Phyllo
Mary ordered: Chocolate Truffle Whipped Mousse.
I honestly think Steve ordered the sorbet because it was the closest thing to ice cream he could find on the menu. He didn't get the whole phyllo dough thing, and to be perfectly honest, neither did I. But the sorbet was outstanding! I specifically remember the blackberry sorbet. Lovely. On the other hand, my Chocolate Truffle was AMAZING!! It was the most adorable little tower of chocolate mousse encircled with a gilded dark chocolate shell ( I worried a little about ingesting a precious metal, but it hasn't seemed to affect me too much). It was also surrounded by the usual edible flowers and decorative little blips of chocolate ganache. I loved it. I am quite sure I have never tasted such intense, densely rich chocolate in such a beautiful, soft texture. Ahhh...as I write this, I am becoming aware of a very intense craving for good chocolate enveloping me. Hmm...I'll do something about that later. Anyway, other than the fact that one of our waiters look frighteningly like Liam Gallagher of Oasis ( I was only slightly obsessed with Oasis during my early college years, which involved a crush on Liam), and it was a little weird watching Liam Gallagher grinding fresh pepper into my husband's soup, and it was kind of wierd flushing fresh rose petals down the toilet before going about my business, we had the most amazing meal and the most delightful time together. And the price was right!! I have never pursued acquiring the recipes from the Rose Garden Restaurant, but I just might have to. So, dear reader, whoever you might be, tell me. What was your most memorable dining experience? I would love to hear your story.
Ahhh. Maine. Beautiful Maine. The most perfect place to be in August. At least, August of 2004. The last place on earth I'd want to be in January, but nevertheless; an ideal location for two newlyweds who decided that the last thing they wanted to do on their honeymoon was to go to Door County, The Dells, "Up North", or any other typical Wisconsin getaway that most Wisconsinites would see as perfectly acceptable for a honeymoon getaway (no offense, typical Wisconsinites). So where did we go? Niagara Falls. Vermont. Bar Harbor, Maine. Portland, Maine (you guys REALLY need to consider putting in street signs. One would be a good start). New Haven, CT (meh). AND (drum roll, please!!) CLEVELAND, OH!!!!! Hey. Don't knock it. We had a fantastic time at the Indians game, and for me to have a fantastic time at a baseball game is, well, nothing short of a miracle. AND, of course, being the lunatics that we are, we drove. No planes for us. Just a good old-fashioned road trip, and we had a ball. We knew one of the highlights of our time spent in Maine would be a real, honest-to-goodness, Maine-caught lobster dinner. The best part? It was going to be paid for by Steve's company. Yep. We were going to go all out, and after resting from our ridiculous 7-hour jaunt from Middlebury, Vermont, to Bar Harbor, Maine (we were naive enough to take the scenic route, forgetting to factor in one teeny-tiny little obstacle: MOUNTAINS, and lots of 'em), we found the fanciest place to eat lobster at in Bar Harbor, and quickly made reservations at the Rose Garden Restaurant for the following evening. After a small glitch of plans, which involved me needing to stay in our room all the next day and drink vast amounts of cranberry juice ( no further details are needed- trust me, you really don't want to know), we rescheduled our dinner for the following evening and watched old reruns of "Three's Company" instead. Thankfully, I made a speedy recovery, and before I knew it, we were dressed to the nines and heading out the door to enjoy a most opulent lobster dinner.
The Rose Garden Restaurant was the "sponsored" restaurant of the Bluenose Inn, a simply gorgeous hotel just outside of Bar Harbor. We chose it partly because of my childish glee over the name "Bluenose Inn", but mostly because it was FANCY FANCY FANCY. And that was exactly what we were going for. Steve wore a most handsome deep navy dress shirt and perfectly fitting gray dress pants, both of which have disappeared from the face of the earth since that day, and I wore my cherished pink and white diagonal plaid dress (which I bought from J.Crew days before our wedding), and a delicate white cardigan to accompany the ensemble. Oh yeah. We were, as Steve is wont to say, stylin' and profilin'!!! We were quickly and ceremoniously ushered in to a perfectly charming dining area that was decorated completely in roses and garden...STUFF. It was beautiful. It reminded me of being in an English garden. We began to survey the menu, which also was beautiful and weighed about 5 pounds. Shall we begin the first course? Very well.
Steve ordered: The Seafood Bisque
Mary ordered: Sir William's Prickly Pear and Pomegranate Chilled Soup
Steve's soup was the epitome of an outstanding bisque. Thick, creamy, so very comforting and a luxurious, velvety texture that cried out to be savoured. I also got a kick out of the little tentacles poking out here and there, but I restrained my enthusiasm and ate like an adult. My soup could not have been more different than Steve's, but it was delicious as well. When the waiter brought out my soup, I waited until he left, then gleefully whispered to Steve,"It's PINK!!!" Yes. I had a bowl of bright pink soup sitting in front of me, with a glorious swizzle of some purple stuff sitting on top of the pinkness. I ate it. All of it. It was very, very good, but also excruciatingly sweet. It's one of those things I am not quite sure if I would still like, due to how my tastes have changed in the past 5 years. At any rate, the first course was a smashing success. Next course, please!
We both ordered: The Maine Lobster Dinner.
Perfection. Velvety, buttery, not in the least bit tough or sinewy. Drenched in a butter sauce and accompanied by some delectable baby potatoes and sauteed patty-pan squash. We savored each and every bite. And that's all I have to say about that. Are you ready for dessert?? Very well.
Steve ordered: A Trio of Sorbet nested in Phyllo
Mary ordered: Chocolate Truffle Whipped Mousse.
I honestly think Steve ordered the sorbet because it was the closest thing to ice cream he could find on the menu. He didn't get the whole phyllo dough thing, and to be perfectly honest, neither did I. But the sorbet was outstanding! I specifically remember the blackberry sorbet. Lovely. On the other hand, my Chocolate Truffle was AMAZING!! It was the most adorable little tower of chocolate mousse encircled with a gilded dark chocolate shell ( I worried a little about ingesting a precious metal, but it hasn't seemed to affect me too much). It was also surrounded by the usual edible flowers and decorative little blips of chocolate ganache. I loved it. I am quite sure I have never tasted such intense, densely rich chocolate in such a beautiful, soft texture. Ahhh...as I write this, I am becoming aware of a very intense craving for good chocolate enveloping me. Hmm...I'll do something about that later. Anyway, other than the fact that one of our waiters look frighteningly like Liam Gallagher of Oasis ( I was only slightly obsessed with Oasis during my early college years, which involved a crush on Liam), and it was a little weird watching Liam Gallagher grinding fresh pepper into my husband's soup, and it was kind of wierd flushing fresh rose petals down the toilet before going about my business, we had the most amazing meal and the most delightful time together. And the price was right!! I have never pursued acquiring the recipes from the Rose Garden Restaurant, but I just might have to. So, dear reader, whoever you might be, tell me. What was your most memorable dining experience? I would love to hear your story.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
I'm a softie
Whew! I have simply been aching to write, and now I finally have a few minutes to do so. I've been wrestling with "what to write next", which is kind of funny, because I thought for sure that the first post would be the toughest. Not so! I have so many stories to share; I am just overwhelmed at where to begin. So, I finally decided, no time like the present, right?? So here we go.
The past few weeks of my life/pregnancy have been, well, quite awful, due to several reasons:
1) It was audit season for my husband, who is an accountant. 'Nuff said.
2) My 18-month old broke his leg and foot, due to some very unfortunate brotherly rough-housing.
3) I am currently 6 months pregnant, and I have severe sciatica, plus I am a super-petite 4' 11" who tends to have BIG babies. Oh yeah.
With the magic combination of all of the above elements, I now find myself on "very mild" bed rest, after an awful 6 weeks. So what have I done to keep my sanity? Well, besides lots of praying (e.g., whining and crying) to God, I have cooked. And baked. And sauteed. And broiled. And baked some more. And read copious amounts of cooking books and magazines. I have to have a creative outlet, or I shall die. It varies with the trials in my life, but this time, it was time for some serious culinary adventures. And even though audit season is over, my son's leg has healed beautifully, and I have been able to get a little more rest (thank the Lord for my husband), I am still finding some serious solace in my kitchen. A most recent example:
Last Wednesday, I buckled up my boys in the van and headed off to teach some piano lessons (more about my passion for music later. MUCH more) at a friend's house. My friend and both of her parents helped me get the kids in and out of the car. At the last second, after all of the buckling and strapping had been accomplished (after the usual amount of wailing and gnashing of teeth), I simply leaned over to tighten David's ( my three-year-old) strap ever so slightly. And then, it happened. What felt like a small blot of lightning shot through my back and leg, and I was seriously incapacitated for the rest of the day. Sciatica like never before had commenced, and I was down for the count. I practically crawled around the kitchen, slathering peanut butter and jelly onto bread for a paltry lunch, then somehow managed to put both boys down for their naps. Then, I proceeded to put myself down for a nap, which was delightfully refreshing, but completely unhelpful to my poor wee back. The boys woke up from their naps, and there were 2.5 hours left until Steve was due to arrive home. So what did I do??
Naturally, I made soft chocolate-chip cookies.
Before commencing such a ridiculous and completely unnecessary project, I analyzed the situation. I could either, A) lay on the couch in a futile attempt to rest while both boys crawled all over me and each other, or B) do something fun with the boys that didn't require a ton of moving around, would pass the time quickly, and was sure to have a delightfully delectable result. So, analysis being completed and my decision made, I opened my faithful recipe box and retrieved my trusty soft chocolate-chip cookie recipe from the August 2007 issue of Martha Stewart Living. When it comes to chocolate chip cookies, I infinitely prefer chewy to crunchy. I find crunchy to be just plain distracting from the whole taste experience. Yes; I am a softie, and quite proud of it, I might add. So off we went into the world of soft chocolate-chip cookies, and it was fun, messy, and very, very successful with only a few excruciating moments of back pain. Yes, life was good in our little kitchen, especially with two beaming, dough-smeared little faces that joyfully crowed,"Daddy, we made choc-lit chip cookies for youuuu!!" And the cookies were simply beautiful in their soft, pale golden glory. Calm down; I'm going to share the recipe in a moment. But before that, I must say two things concerning the recipe:
1) Don't even THINK about skipping the sour cream. Okay? Good.
2) The 50/50 mix of milk chocolate and semisweet chips is by far the optimal choice, but I have used all semisweet chips on occasion (due to lack of foresight on the shopping list) with very yummy results. But you simply MUST try the milk chocolate chips. Okay? Good.
So there you have it. When life hands you lemons, you grab those lemons, show them what you're made of, and then bake some soft chocolate-chip cookies to go along with your lemonade. Did I mention my husband is a crunchy? Well, that's another story...now GO BAKE.
http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/soft-chocolate-chip-cookies
The past few weeks of my life/pregnancy have been, well, quite awful, due to several reasons:
1) It was audit season for my husband, who is an accountant. 'Nuff said.
2) My 18-month old broke his leg and foot, due to some very unfortunate brotherly rough-housing.
3) I am currently 6 months pregnant, and I have severe sciatica, plus I am a super-petite 4' 11" who tends to have BIG babies. Oh yeah.
With the magic combination of all of the above elements, I now find myself on "very mild" bed rest, after an awful 6 weeks. So what have I done to keep my sanity? Well, besides lots of praying (e.g., whining and crying) to God, I have cooked. And baked. And sauteed. And broiled. And baked some more. And read copious amounts of cooking books and magazines. I have to have a creative outlet, or I shall die. It varies with the trials in my life, but this time, it was time for some serious culinary adventures. And even though audit season is over, my son's leg has healed beautifully, and I have been able to get a little more rest (thank the Lord for my husband), I am still finding some serious solace in my kitchen. A most recent example:
Last Wednesday, I buckled up my boys in the van and headed off to teach some piano lessons (more about my passion for music later. MUCH more) at a friend's house. My friend and both of her parents helped me get the kids in and out of the car. At the last second, after all of the buckling and strapping had been accomplished (after the usual amount of wailing and gnashing of teeth), I simply leaned over to tighten David's ( my three-year-old) strap ever so slightly. And then, it happened. What felt like a small blot of lightning shot through my back and leg, and I was seriously incapacitated for the rest of the day. Sciatica like never before had commenced, and I was down for the count. I practically crawled around the kitchen, slathering peanut butter and jelly onto bread for a paltry lunch, then somehow managed to put both boys down for their naps. Then, I proceeded to put myself down for a nap, which was delightfully refreshing, but completely unhelpful to my poor wee back. The boys woke up from their naps, and there were 2.5 hours left until Steve was due to arrive home. So what did I do??
Naturally, I made soft chocolate-chip cookies.
Before commencing such a ridiculous and completely unnecessary project, I analyzed the situation. I could either, A) lay on the couch in a futile attempt to rest while both boys crawled all over me and each other, or B) do something fun with the boys that didn't require a ton of moving around, would pass the time quickly, and was sure to have a delightfully delectable result. So, analysis being completed and my decision made, I opened my faithful recipe box and retrieved my trusty soft chocolate-chip cookie recipe from the August 2007 issue of Martha Stewart Living. When it comes to chocolate chip cookies, I infinitely prefer chewy to crunchy. I find crunchy to be just plain distracting from the whole taste experience. Yes; I am a softie, and quite proud of it, I might add. So off we went into the world of soft chocolate-chip cookies, and it was fun, messy, and very, very successful with only a few excruciating moments of back pain. Yes, life was good in our little kitchen, especially with two beaming, dough-smeared little faces that joyfully crowed,"Daddy, we made choc-lit chip cookies for youuuu!!" And the cookies were simply beautiful in their soft, pale golden glory. Calm down; I'm going to share the recipe in a moment. But before that, I must say two things concerning the recipe:
1) Don't even THINK about skipping the sour cream. Okay? Good.
2) The 50/50 mix of milk chocolate and semisweet chips is by far the optimal choice, but I have used all semisweet chips on occasion (due to lack of foresight on the shopping list) with very yummy results. But you simply MUST try the milk chocolate chips. Okay? Good.
So there you have it. When life hands you lemons, you grab those lemons, show them what you're made of, and then bake some soft chocolate-chip cookies to go along with your lemonade. Did I mention my husband is a crunchy? Well, that's another story...now GO BAKE.
http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/soft-chocolate-chip-cookies
Sunday, February 21, 2010
A New Adventure
Today I have officially started my blog, and all I can say is, well, IT'S ABOUT TIME. You see, I have been waffling with this seemingly uncomplicated decision for about 6 months now. Why the endless waffling; I cannot say. I guess it's just one more thing to add to my already ridiculously full and busy life, but hey; I love to write, and I love to share stories about my little family and my life. Especially when it comes to sharing great stories about FOOD. :) No, this is not "another food blog", but I will have quite a few things to say about food, for several simple reasons:
1) I LOVE to cook and bake. Not like. LOVE.
2) Cooking and baking are big stress-busters for me. When there are mass amounts of cookies, breads, new and exciting culinary concoctions flying out of my kitchen at an alarmingly high rate of speed, you can rest assured that my life is mostly likely in a shambles at the moment.
3)I love to try out new recipes on my husband and two little boys. I usually try something new once a week. So naturally, I will be sharing my success/epic failure stories concerning new recipes.
4) I have waaaay too many great cooking/eating/traveling stories to NOT share them!
So there you have it. I will also being writing about the every day adventures of my little family, since I find great pleasure in the simple, mundane tasks of real life. Mostly. Nothing puts a smile on one's face quite like reading a little snippet such as,"Today my 3 year old saw one of his closest buddies in the grocery store, and before I (or the other momma) could stop them, they raced towards each other and planted a huge kiss on each other's lips in full view of everyone in the store." While I am fully aware that many people would be less than amused with such snippets, well, too bad. It's my blog; I'll share what I am inspired to share. This is my stage of life, and I want to share it with whoever wants to read about it. I hope I can encourage and possibly even *gasp* inspire you, whoever you may be. A few more things:
1)I am expecting our third child in June. No, we did not find out what we are having; we're guessing it's a baby.We are super stoked about it! :)
2)I am also a very passionate organizer/cleaner and SCRAPBOOKER. :) There will definitely be some scrapbooking stories/pictures flitting about this blog.
Well, I've covered the basics for today. I am quite excited as I embark on The Epic Adventures of Skarymop & Co.!!
1) I LOVE to cook and bake. Not like. LOVE.
2) Cooking and baking are big stress-busters for me. When there are mass amounts of cookies, breads, new and exciting culinary concoctions flying out of my kitchen at an alarmingly high rate of speed, you can rest assured that my life is mostly likely in a shambles at the moment.
3)I love to try out new recipes on my husband and two little boys. I usually try something new once a week. So naturally, I will be sharing my success/epic failure stories concerning new recipes.
4) I have waaaay too many great cooking/eating/traveling stories to NOT share them!
So there you have it. I will also being writing about the every day adventures of my little family, since I find great pleasure in the simple, mundane tasks of real life. Mostly. Nothing puts a smile on one's face quite like reading a little snippet such as,"Today my 3 year old saw one of his closest buddies in the grocery store, and before I (or the other momma) could stop them, they raced towards each other and planted a huge kiss on each other's lips in full view of everyone in the store." While I am fully aware that many people would be less than amused with such snippets, well, too bad. It's my blog; I'll share what I am inspired to share. This is my stage of life, and I want to share it with whoever wants to read about it. I hope I can encourage and possibly even *gasp* inspire you, whoever you may be. A few more things:
1)I am expecting our third child in June. No, we did not find out what we are having; we're guessing it's a baby.We are super stoked about it! :)
2)I am also a very passionate organizer/cleaner and SCRAPBOOKER. :) There will definitely be some scrapbooking stories/pictures flitting about this blog.
Well, I've covered the basics for today. I am quite excited as I embark on The Epic Adventures of Skarymop & Co.!!
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