The Sweet Life

I'm happy to report that our Island weekend was a success.  Within minutes of our arrival, we felt at home, and could so easily envision ourselves living there, surrounded by small communities, farms, and the briny scent of the sea.  This way we have of yearning for something new and exciting, then flying by the seat of our pants straight into it; it's kind of how we roll, when choosing a new adventure, I now realize.  Much akin to throwing darts at a map, the Mister and I throw out numerous ideas, see how they sit, and when one intuitively feels right, we go for it.  This may be viewed as a somewhat haphazard way of doing things, I realize, and yet...why not?  Thus far, it's worked for us.  Because, at the end of the day, if you're really, truly able to listen to your gut, and trust your instinct, it will tell you the right move.  Every time.  (Of course, this does involve shutting off all those annoying doubts and sidetracking insecurities endlessly circling through your brain.)  I think, when something feels right, all the way down to the very marrow of your bones, it is.  When we spend too much time analyzing and questioning our next move in life...perhaps that's our inner, instinctive self, throwing up roadblocks and barriers for a very good reason.  Perhaps we simply need to listen to, and trust our instincts, a wee bit more.

Incidentally, I'm not advocating an Act on Impulse Movement, here.  If that were the case, I'd be in serious trouble.  Wine at noon (I'd never), chocolate all day long, speaking exactly what's on my mind (believe it or not, I do edit myself...mostly)...you see it could go a little awry.  Dangerous stuff, my friends.

My point here is that, when we allow our instincts to guide us, we do tend to find ourselves in some pretty sweet spots.

The risk of failing, of our instincts being wrong...when weighed against the rewards of living life fully and with gusto, of the joy of leaping headlong into adventure...well...

...it really doesn't seem much of a risk at all, given how much fun we have on our journey, wouldn't you say?

Life is Sweet, indeed.

Eat it up.

Yum.

Good Morning Food

I am often tickled by strings of words, when they can be interpreted in different ways.  For example, the title of this post:  Good Morning Food.  As in:

Mmmm...this is some goooood morning food!

Or:

Good Morning, Food!  Meet my mouth!

Or, perhaps:

Oh, Good!  Morning Food!  (Now I'm just getting ridiculous.)

A while back, I posted a recipe for Petite Crustless Quiches, from French Revolution.  Last weekend, I revisited that recipe, with a little twist.  The twist being in the form of kale, and bacon.  Yum.

We always have "special" breakfasts on the weekend, so called by the Kiddos.  Weekday breakfasts consist of either yogurt with frozen (and defrosted) berries, and homemade granola, or cereal.  So, come the weekend, we all look forward to a more leisurely meal, generally involving eggs, waffles, or homemade bagels.  And a good amount of coffee.  Of course.

The thing with preparing a special breakfast is, in my world, that while it appears to be time-consuming, it never really is.  If the natives (ie, Kiddos) are growing restless, I appease their hunger with a bit of fruit, or a small bowl of cereal, until the real meal is ready.  When guests stay over, there's nothing to it to whip up a batch of something that looks impressive, but is truly simple.  Like these mini quiches.

You could add absolutely anything to these wee bites:  some steamed, chopped asparagus, any variety of herbs, cheeses, proscuitto, pancetta...you name it.  Get creative.  These are delicious served hot, or at room temperature, for breakfast, brunch, or any meal, really.

Here's how I made them:

Mini Bacon, Kale, and Feta Quiches - adapted from French Revolution
-makes 12 mini quiches, serves 4 to 6

Ingredients
8 large eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/3 cup crumbled feta
3 or 4 slices of bacon
a few stalks of kale, ribs removed
a couple tablespoons of chopped fresh parsley
sprig or two of fresh dill, fronds only, chopped
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
butter or vegetable oil, to grease muffin tin

First, cook your bacon.  I prefer to cook mine on a baking sheet in the oven, 400 deg F.  It takes around 15 minutes, turning once mid-way through. When crisp, drain on paper towels, then chop. 

While your bacon is cooking, prepare the rest of your ingredients, beginning with your kale.  Bring a small saucepan of water to boil, and add your kale, with the ribs removed.  Cook on a medium-high heat until tender, about 8 to 10 minutes.  Drain in a colander, and once cool, squeeze out the excess water.  You will have a small, handful-sized ball.  Chop this up.

Beat eggs, then stir in milk, salt and pepper to taste, herbs, and kale.

Once your bacon is finished cooking, turn the oven down to 375 deg F.  Grease a 12 cup muffin tin.

Add equal amounts of chopped bacon to the bottom of each muffin cup, then pour over the egg mixture.  Add the crumbled feta to the top of each mini quiche.  Bake for 20 to 22 minutes, until the quiches just begin pulling away from the sides of the tin.  Leave to cool in the muffin tin for about 5 minutes, then remove gently, using a knife to loosen the sides, if necessary.

Easy peasy.  And serious Good Morning Food.

Our family is off for the weekend to the Island, to scout for a place to call home.  I'm whipping up two batches of these babies, to bring along for breakfast:

These bagels are another super simple, yet very impressive meal.  If you have a bread machine, seriously, break it out, and get a batch rolling.  It's a foolproof recipe, and who doesn't love fresh bagels and veggie cream cheese in the morning?

I know I do.  Happy Weekending, everyone!

The Spice of Life

We're in the midst of a major transition these days:  contemplating yet another move to a more permanent place (not just yet...but it's coming), ending old jobs and beginning new ones, and shifting from Spring and school days to carefree Summer.  And house hunting.  (Shudder.)  In the midst of all of this, this Life that is happening, the Mister and I are finding ourselves excited by all sorts of possibilities.  We're finding that our dream of a place to call home, near the waves, with a bit of space to grow things, to raise our Kiddos...this dream may actually be turning into a reality.  After months of forced attempts to make this dream work, of disappointing house hunting, frustrating job searching, ineffectual planning, we finally reached a point where we just let it go.  That fruitless act of beating our heads against a wall, in a vain attempt to make something happen when the timing was off, simply wasn't paying off.  We looked around ourselves, at our thriving children, our astounding community of friends, the beautiful area we're currently calling home, and decided Hey...this might be enough.  For now.  Apparently, merely finding peace with we're at, right now, was exactly where we needed to arrive, before change could occur.  (I believe this is one of those forest-for-the-trees moments...so difficult to see when you're mired in it...and so simple when you take a breath, step back, and let Life unfold.)

Suddenly, an exciting job offer came up for the Mister, in just the right location to make this little dream feasible.  Now our task is to wrap our heads around what this all means:  new schools, moving further from our well-loved people, finding home.  It's not going to be easy.  It's a little bit scary, really.  But this is exactly where we want to be.  New adventures await, and possibilities abound.  I love this stuff, I must tell you.  Looking back on all our travels and wanderings, it's always those moments of uncertainty in the outcome...but certainty that it's the right move...that Life is truly lived.  Taking that big leap is what stokes our fire.  It's how the Mister and I found each other in the big, wide world.  It's how we've managed to live in some amazing places around the globe, and meet so many interesting, dear people.  And now, we get to do it again.

 

 

 

Lucky us.

When we married, the Mister and I wrote our vows, and the main point of what we promised to each other was that together, we would live a life filled with love and adventure.  And how.

So, with all this exciting stuff going on around us, I must admit I do not always find the time for an exciting meal.  A great deal of energy is being spent (well-spent, without a doubt) on realizing a dream, sometimes leaving little, at the end of the day, for meal-planning.  (Or grocery shopping.)  Thus, a simple meal is in order.  And who to turn to, other than Mr. Nigel Slater, for inspiration?

From Appetite, this dish is referred to as "a fragrant, healing bowl of rice...Food to soothe and revive."  What could be more appropriate?

I do hope you enjoy it.  And remember, allow yourself the freedom to adapt, in order to feed your appetite,  in the recipe, and in Life.

Fragrant, Spiced Rice - adapted from Appetite

Ingredients
peanut or vegetable oil
one small onion, or half a large one
basmati rice, 2 cups
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Aromatics
a few cloves garlic, bashed, but left whole
few slices of fresh ginger
5 to 8 green cardamom pods
cinnamon stick
4 or 5 cloves
pinch of chili flakes, or one whole chili pepper
handful of cilantro leaves, chopped

You can prepare this rice two ways.  One, use a saucepan, and begin by sauteing your onion.  Or, if you're rather busy, cheat, and use a rice cooker.  You can either start by sauteing your onion on the stove, then adding it to your rice cooker, or just start it off in the rice cooker itself, to really make things simple.  If you solely use your rice cooker, you won't get much in the way of caramelization, and you may have to prop something down on the little button that flips between "warm" and "cook" to keep it cooking.  But it does work.  Just so you know.

Whichever method you decide, begin by gently cooking off your onion in a tablespoon or so of oil, with a bit of salt, until softened and translucent.  Add to this the garlic, ginger, and spices (not cilantro), and allow to cook briefly, to bring out their essential oils.  Stir in the rice, and chili, and add the recommended amount of water (from either your bag of rice, or your rice cooker).  I use 1 1/2 cups water to 1 cup of rice, yours quite likely, may differ.  This is not a problem.  Season with sea salt, cover and cook until the water is absorbed, without stirring.  Again, follow your recommended cooking times on your rice packaging, your rice cooker, or go with experience.  Once the liquid is absorbed, gently stir the rice, and re-cover for about 10 minutes (or up to an hour in the rice cooker).

Delicious.  We served ours with some roasted veggies, and it was just about perfect.

Life is a grand adventure.  Eat it up.

How I Cook

I've been thinking about recipes lately.  I have a love/hate relationship with recipes, and cookbooks.  On the one hand, I adore pouring through the pages of a new cookbook.  I love reading ingredient lists, envisioning some new flavor combination that I've never thought of, being transported to foreign lands simply by reading about their foods, drooling over gorgeously styled food photos.  But then, we have the other hand.  My rebellious hand, I suppose.  And this hand despises being told exactly how one must prepare a meal, with exactly this type of cheese, sliced or diced using exactly this tool and this technique.  This hand much prefers to use recipes as inspiration, or guides.  (And this hand also does not style food gorgeously.  We eat family style, and I haven't yet discovered an inner desire to toil over arranging food just so, in order to get a good shot.  People are hungry here.)

There are rather a lot of italics in this post today, aren't there?  Strong feelings here, people, strong feelings.

Anyway, this inner struggle with the whole recipes-as-rules thing kind of defies logic, as pertains to this here blog.  I mean, here I am, in all my hypocritical glory, pushing recipes on you fine folks, while I contradictorily proclaim a  disdain for them.  Add to that my self-awareness that I am not some genius chef, just a woman who likes to feed people...what right have I to tell anyone how to cook?  Hm.  Ponderous.

(Just so you know, that was the rebellious hand speaking up there, the other one does enjoy recipes, especially for baking, and as long as they're not too incredibly stringent.)

Cue the perfect book to read, for this conflicted state of mind:

I have raved incessantly about Tender, and now you'll have to bear with me and my new-found passion for Appetite.  This book predates Tender by a good few years, but the gist is the same:  Cook creatively.  Simple as.  Mr. Slater generally gives brilliant suggestions for meals and foods that work well with one another, leaving precise amounts up to you, the cook, to decide.  He outlines pantry ingredients, spices, equipment, with the main point being:  You don't need every single damn gadget and fad food in your kitchen.  You don't need to revere those cookbooks that claim that theirs is the only way of doing something.  Instinct is key, and the way to develop that instinct is to spend some time playing around in the kitchen.

I think that's what I love most about cooking...aside from the obvious practicality of feeding myself, my family, and my friends, it's an amazingly creative outlet.  If you allow it to be.  If you ignore that inner voice that tells you to follow the rules, because so-and-so knows what they're doing, and you don't.  (I think my "inner child" is an uptight, anal-retentive tattletale, who still fears getting grounded for breaking the rules.  Delve into that one.  Actually, don't.)  A meal that turns out well is so satisfying, when you're using ingredients that you have on hand, and cooking with all your senses.  Smelling...touching...tasting...It's a pretty sensuous gig, cooking.  Get into it.

My uptight hand would like to interject here, and say that the rules are there for a reason.  Certain foods need specific cooking times, in order to not only taste good, but to be safe.  Some spices marry well with others, while some decidedly do not.  This is where recipes come in handy:  there's a wealth of wisdom to be gained from other cooks.  There is also a wealth of wisdom to be gained from experience.  From getting your hands dirty.  And it's a heck of a lot of fun.

Here's what I came up with last night:

One rather un-styled photo, of a barley pilaf.  I probably should have removed that cinnamon stick, but oh well.  By the way, there is no mention of barley in Nigel Slater's book, but I had some in the pantry, and went with it.  I will give you the ingredients and amounts that I used, but please, for the love of all that is right, play with your food!  If an alternative spice or veggie sounds more appealing, use that instead.  Hard and fast rules have no place here.

Barley Pilaf - serves 4, as a generous side

Ingredients
1 cup pearled barley, rinsed
chicken or vegetable stock (I used chicken), or water, about 2 1/2 cups
1/2 large onion, chopped
butter
1 cinnamon stick
4 or 5 cardamom pods
1/4 to 1/2 tsp cumin seeds
1/8 to 1/4 tsp ground coriander
bay leaf ( I used fresh)
grated lemon zest from about 1/2 large lemon
sea salt and black pepper to taste
couple handfuls fresh or frozen peas (if frozen, defrost under cold water in a colander)
few handfuls baby spinach, to serve
dill, or another fresh herb, minced, to serve

In a medium sized pot, heat a tablespoon or two of butter, over a moderately low heat.  Cook off the onions, with a bit of sea salt, until they're softened and translucent, about 10 or so minutes.  Add the spices (cinnamon, cumin, coriander, cardamom), and stir over a medium low heat, for about a minute, until you can smell them.  Add the barley and stir to combine.  Add in your stock or water, a bit of salt and pepper, and bay leaf, and bring to a boil.  Cover and lower heat to simmer.  I started off with 2 1/4 cups of chicken stock, and added more as cooking went on, and the grain was getting dry, but still not fully cooked.  Just keep an eye on it, and top up with a bit more liquid, if needed.

Grains don't follow exact rules with cooking times.  I suppose this can depend on the age of the grain, and who knows what other factors.  My barley took about an hour, yours could take anywhere from half an hour, to an hour.  If your barley finishes cooking before the rest of your meal is ready, simply turn off the heat, and cover with a lid.  It'll stand just fine, for a while.

Once the barley is cooked to a texture you like, it should still have a nutty bite to it, turn off the heat, and leave covered for 5 or 10 minutes.  If, near the end of cooking time, you still have a substantial amount of liquid left, remove the lid, and turn the heat up a bit, minding that it doesn't burn, so the extra stock cooks out.

Stir in the zest, dill, and peas, and check seasoning.  If you'd like a richer dish, throw in another tablespoon of butter, or a glug of olive oil.  I served our pilaf up over a bed of baby spinach, which wilted down nicely from the heat of the barley.

We really should eat barley more often.  It is so dang tasty, and good for you.  For leftovers, this can be served at room temperature with a squeeze of lemon juice over it, or reheated, maybe with a grating of parmesan.

Get your hands dirty.

With a Bit of Luck

I had a decent bit of luck yesterday.  I popped in to a couple of thrift shops, and hit the jackpot.  I have to say, I have mixed feelings about thrifting, just so you know.  I know it is a good thing.  I suppose there are two ways of looking at it:  One way:  Thrifting is an act of granting new life to an object that would otherwise end up at the dump, or on an episode of that Hoarders show.  Another way:  Sorting through someone else's cast-offs can be kind of, well, gross.  First of all, there's that smell in there.  You know the one.  Decay/musty grandparents/neglect...it's not a pretty smell.  And then it's so completely overwhelming to me, all that stuff to sort through.  There is so much crap hiding those few treasures, and it takes a certain mood, and a certain level of tolerance to manage a successful thrifting adventure.  I don't always manage it.  I can't always handle it.

Yesterday, though?  I managed quite nicely:

Score number one:  a canning pot and jar lifters.  I'm on a mission to can this summer, and when I learned how freaking expensive the set up is, I kind of nearly wet myself.  So, this one?  Major score.  Whopping $12 score.  And you can't tell in the photo, but it's blue.  I love blue.

Also pictured are some retro pillowcases, to be repurposed into pajamas, perhaps, after seeing this post on elsiemarley.  That funky green floral is maybe awaiting its destiny as a skirt for the Girl, a la any one of the awesome tutorials on Made.

Used linens are a tricky one for me.  On the one hand, it feels a little weird to reuse old linens.  I'll tell you what though, that old adage "They don't make it like they used to" has merit.  Cotton is not the same as it was in days past.  And I do, after all, have a washing machine.  So there you go.

Speaking of linens...I've been searching for a new duvet cover for, oh, about four years now, to no avail.  Mind you, I've been looking for a new one, not a used one.  Our two duvet covers (one winter weight, one summer...a nifty trick I picked up in New Zealand) are looking rather worn, and I've been searching high and low for something unique, but coming up empty-handed, time after time.  And then, I stumbled upon this:

Not the cat, although he obviously approves of this new-to-me duvet cover.  As far as I can tell, it's brand, spanking new too.  I love it.  It looks so much like a Lotta Jansdotter print.  Who knows?  Maybe it is.

Cool, right?  But then, I saw another, and I couldn't decide...so I bought both.  $12 each.  One for our room, one for the guest room.  Sweet deal, and both look as if they've never been used.  (Phew.)

Perhaps those old, worn duvets of ours will find new life as sets of curtains, for the Boy, and the Girl.  Time will tell.

A couple other bits and bobs caught my eye, that I couldn't pass up:

With a bit of luck, that tripod may just improve my occasionally, ever-so-wobbly photos...well, maybe a lot of luck...

This jar was just too perfect to not buy, don't you agree?  I dig it.

So, a good day of thrift, all in all.  Oh, I managed to buy several books as well...mainly for the Kiddos.

Good stuff.  Have a fantastic day!

These Days

Life is pretty fine around here, these days. 

We are completely blissed out on the sunshine...

 ...gleefully swinging from trees...

...taking full advantage of bike trails, a la Monday morning rides, just the Mister and me...

...eating my favorite way, simply, outdoors, Choose-Your-Own-Adventure-style (so named by the Kiddos), Hello, sunshine food!  Radishes, dill butter, and salt...

...feeling downright impressed with homemade hot dog buns (well, sausage buns, actually), with this recipe, shaping them like this.  You should make some too...

...and feeling inspired by the opening of this gorgeous bloom in our yard...although we have no idea what it is.  Does anyone know?  

These days are full.  May yours be as well.

Here's to the sunshine!

A Delight

I have in my hot little hands, my friends, an absolute score of a cookbook:  Tessa Kiros' Falling Cloudberries.  This book is divine, full of beautiful family recipes and remembrances, and stunning photographs.  I own another of her books, Venezia:  Food and Dreams, and it too is a work of art.  Falling Cloudberries is, for me, a little more accessible though, with recipes I can easily make, and ingredients to which I have ready access.

For dinner last night, I made one of Kiros' recipes, for Chickpea, Feta, and Cilantro salad.  A perfect salad.  The huge amount of fresh herbs; parsley, scallions, cilantro, and mint......the bright acidity of lemon...the salty creaminess of feta...a bit of heat from chiles...What else needs to be said?  In short, this salad was an utter delight.

I did some minor adapting, as you do.  Rather than one can of chickpeas (garbanzos), I used two, and therefore squeezed an additional lemon over it.  I didn't bother increasing the amount of herbs or feta, and it didn't suffer one bit.  And, I must admit, I cut the amount of olive oil by half.  I couldn't quite wrap my head (hips) around a whole entire cup of olive oil.  Delicious or not, it is getting on to summer, people, and these curves don't need any extra padding.

Without further ado, a simply delightful salad:

Chickpea, Feta, and Cilantro Salad - Adapted from Falling Cloudberries
 - serves 4 as a main dish, 6 as a side

Ingredients

*Note*  I have adapted the salad somewhat from the original.  That's what you do with cooking.  Especially salads.  Get inspired, and adapt a recipe to meet your needs.  Go for it.

2 - 14 oz cans chickpeas (garbanzo beans), drained and rinsed
1/2 cup olive oil, plus 3 Tbs for cooking onions and garlic
1 1/2 red onions, chopped
5 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
pinch of red chili flakes, to taste (or fresh red chili, chopped finely)
6 oz feta cheese, crumbled
4 large scallions (green onions), chopped
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 cup chopped fresh parsley
1/4 cup chopped fresh mint
juice of 2 lemons
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Heat 3 tablespoons olive oil in a skillet, over moderately low heat, and gently sauté the onions with a sprinkle of salt, until they are soft, translucent, and golden.  Don't fry them over a high heat, you don't want to brown them, but rather sweeten and cook them slowly.  This took about 10 or 12 minutes for me.  Now add the chopped garlic and chiles and cook for a few seconds longer, just until you can smell the garlic.  Add the mixture to a large bowl and stir in the chickpeas.  Leave to cool completely.

Once cool, add your chopped herbs, feta, lemon juice, and olive oil, and stir gently to combine.  Taste for seasoning, remembering that the feta will add quite a bit of saltiness to the salad.

Serve at room temperature.  This will keep for a day or two in the fridge, but after that, the herbs will darken and go mushy.  To eat leftovers, let the salad come back to room temperature before serving, and perhaps add a little drizzle of olive oil if the chickpeas have absorbed it all.

Have a delightful day!