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Great State Fair of Oklahoma

I love the Oklahoma State Fair.  We never missed it growing up, and I belong to a family that goes to eat our way through like The Very Hungry Caterpillar.  In fact, we rarely ride rides or play the impossible to win games. We are on a mission. Time is spent walking through buildings and watching shows primarily to work up an appetite for the next taste sensation.

Sadly, for the last seven years I've been too many states away to be home for the OK State Fair. So, I had to do a little song and dance when my mom brought to my attention that I would be home for the festivities this year. I was beyond excited; I shared my big news with everyone I saw for the next month. September 16th finally arrived and we were at the gates on opening day. Which also happens to be Dollar Day for tickets. What more could we ask for?  More money to spend on food.

It was comforting to discover the fair had changed very little in my absence.  Even better, the state fair far surpasses any airport in terms of good people watching. Especially on a sticky, hot afternoon in Oklahoma. Wow.
Here's a general breakdown of our schedule in the 6 hours we frolicked around. Well, I mostly hobbled thanks to my bunion surgery, but that wasn't going to stop me on this day.

3:00 pm- Buy $1 tickets, walk in, feign interest in hot tub display to stand in shade of their tent.

3:05 pm- Eat a freshly battered and fried corn dog adorned simply with a squiggle of mustard. Crispy outer crust, salty and juicy, these are the only corn dogs I have interest in eating.

3:15 pm- Wander slowly admiring the sensory overload with freshly-squeezed lemonade in hand: brightly painted signs, glittery, shiny booths beckoning fair-goers in, puffs of smoke billowing from the turkey leg and BBQ vendors, children squealing as they carry giant stuffed animals, clownish carnival music chiming in the background.

3:20 pm- Wait patiently for an Italian sausage and pepper grinder. The meat and grease have to properly soak the bun. Truly delightful.

3:30 pm- Walk through one building for "Shopping of All Kinds." I didn't have the slightest interest in purchasing the sequined clothing, As Seen On TV cleaning products, or various home goods, but I like looking just the same.

4:00 pm- Watch a magic show consisting of three tricks and 20 minutes of bad ventriloquism.

4:30 pm- Tour the Agtropolis building geared for childhood learning, full of live animals: baby chicks, sheep, goats, cows, pigs, butterflies, and honeybees. I was in awe of the giant, 4 year old rabbits.

5:30 pm- Dan's Famous Indian Tacos.  Like a taco salad but on top of puffy, chewy Indian fry bread instead of a crunchy tortilla shell. I have been truly craving one for the past seven years, and everyone should have the pleasure of enjoying this culinary delight. We also ate a cheese strudel at this stop, but that was somehow devoured too quickly for me to take a picture.

6:00 pm- Walk through the Made in Oklahoma building to check out all the prize winning fair entries while gulping down more lemonade. I still wish I understood the distinction between the 1st and 4th place yellow onion winners.

7:00 pm- Walk through the automotive building to sit in the gleaming new model cars.

8:00 pm- Felt famished after two whole hours without a food pit stop. Time for corn dog #2 and only moments later, a buttery roasted corn on the cob, sprinkled generously with salt and pepper.

8:45 pm- Last stop of the night was for a Philly cheesesteak folded into flatbread.  It was drippy, sloppy and irresistible. Along with a couple plates of fried to order chips for the table, no one was leaving this fair hungry.

Key Lime Pie Ice Cream

I had surgery on my foot last week- to fix my bunion.  I know, it sounds like a disgusting wart. I hate saying it, but I promise it is just a hereditary bone deformation that is fairly common.  Exciting stuff.

Not surprisingly, this has kept me out of the kitchen... I can't really even fix my own cereal.  (Thank you to all my family that has carried my chap stick, books, food and even my own body to and fro). Fortunately, my one-legged state of affairs has not put a damper on my Ice Cream Project.  Before I left Portland, I was able to whip up a luscious Buttermilk Fig Ice Cream.  I made a sweet jam with fresh figs and the buttermilk base was a satisfying balance.

After my trip back to Oklahoma for my surgery, I squeezed in one more batch of Key Lime Pie Ice Cream before I was wiped out on pain killers. It is just the right treat to enjoy by the pool as we soak up the final hot days of summer. I cooked a standard custard base and added sweetened condensed milk and Nellie & Joe's Famous Key Lime Juice after straining. If you don't have easy access to key limes, this is the juice to find.  To spin it, I hauled out my mom's heavy duty White Mountain Ice Cream Freezer. This machine is not for the faint of heart. It vrooms, clatters and requires a little arm muscle and grunting.  But it's worth it; touching the cold, steel canister brings back every giddy spoonful of homemade vanilla ice cream I ate growing up.  Most of the time I like my ice cream adorned with chunks, bits, swirls and sprinkles of pretty things, but there will never be a scoop as pure and perfect as rich vanilla ice cream freshly frozen. Silky smooth and quick to melt on a warm piece of chocolate sheet cake, still delicious as you slurp it out of the bowl. It is bliss, but I should be tempting you with the Key Lime Pie.

I stirred in bits of graham crackers when the base was frozen, made a quick dark chocolate sauce and gently swirled it in too. I just wanted a hint of the bitter chocolate throughout to complement, not dominate, the lime. After eating several spoonfuls of leftover chocolate sauce, I threw the ice cream into the freezer to set. A crew of family and friends have had the chance to taste, and I agree with their conclusion- it's just like key lime pie. 

I am getting antsy migrating between the couch and my bed, but I do have plenty of time to dream up ice cream flavors. I can put a bit more pressure on my foot now and should be able to balance long enough to stir together my next ice cream by the end of the week!

Project Ice Cream

   I've given myself a new goal.  A project that could theoretically never end.  A goal I'm excited to accomplish.  I am going to make a new ice cream every week.  
   This is a pretty perfect project for me.  I love frozen desserts, and I love making up new flavor combinations and ice cream mix-ins.  I acquired this enviable skill over countless trips to the local Shake's Frozen Custard for concretes in college.  I'd really prefer to only eat frozen custard, but alas, I live in a sad, sad place with no comparable frozen custard experience.  Don't fret, I'm still happy as a clam eating ice cream and frozen yogurt.  Especially when I know exactly what's going into each recipe; I can add beautiful, seasonal produce, homemade sauces, or my own cookies, brownies, and crunchy bits.  It is also nice to have control over how rich or healthy the recipe is.  A weekly ice cream will definitely be a nice outlet for my cravings of the moment. The only real downside here is that I might eat ALL of it.  I'm glad I know a lot of people who like ice cream.
    I've been going for two weeks in a row now, thanks to plenty of lovely fruit at the market.
Last week was just a simple triple crown blackberry frozen yogurt.  For those who haven't had the good fortune to try this type of berry, they are stunningly sweet and perfumey.  I mentioned them in the last post, but I love 'em.
    This week I snagged some local peaches for Crunchy Caramel Peach Frozen Yogurt.  A very simple peach frozen yogurt base with caramel and oatmeal cookie bits added at the end.  I couldn't stop licking the bowl and spatula with this one.  It might not be in our freezer very long.
    So, an official announcement to my family in Oklahoma:  here is your chance for requests!  Four weeks of ice cream making to enjoy by the pool.  A key lime pie version is really calling my name....

My Pietopia Pie

     I recently entered this year's Pietopia contest- a challenge to write what your life tastes like in a pie.
Contestants were asked to write their explanation in 300 words or less and submit it along with a recipe for the pie.  I loved the idea of Pietopia the moment I read about it and started writing that night.
     Pie is my dessert of choice; I like it to be present at all holidays, special events, and gatherings (this is really a topic worthy of its own entry).  Plus, exploring the emotional connections to what, how, and why we eat is how I prefer to write about food.  Perfect fun...writing about pie... a challenge I couldn't resist.
     I chose to write about a very personal family journey and much to my surprise and delight, was selected as a winner! Even better for me, was the strong, positive response from my family and close friends. I think the pie was able to give voice to something we'd all been feeling and didn't quite have words for.  I was hesitant at first to put our story on paper, but I realized afterwards how therapeutic it was for me. Creating the pie gave me a fresh perspective on a situation full of complex and confusing emotions.  Winning the contest gave me the courage to share my writing with my family.   I've even shared with coworkers and people I would have never otherwise talked to about my experience.  Hearing their response has made me realize I have a story worth communicating and connecting to others through.  We all do.  Just as Tricia hoped when she created this contest, Pietopia has the power to "open doors for understanding."

Jam Hands

    I finally allotted a weekend afternoon to making jam.  I've had many moments of good intention since the berries have shown up at the farmer's market this year, but the large amounts of berries we purchase each weekend never seem to make it that far.  We are berry-eating machines in this house; between cereal, smoothies, ice cream topping, and compulsive snacking, a half flat is gone in the blink of an eye.  You'd think we would grow tired of them, but nope. Different varieties keep coming in and they continue to delight- marionberries, raspberries, chester berries, blueberries, triple crowns, silvanberries,
boysenberries, etc.
    So, with jam in mind, I doubled up on the berry buying and still had plenty for our everyday eating. I used a jam recipe from Molly Wizenberg.  There's no added pectin, and the sugar content is low in comparison to many ratios out there. The berries here are incredible as is; they don't need a bucket of sugar covering up their natural sweetness. I used mostly marionberries, along with a pint or two of blackberries and raspberries.  I was a bit concerned about the jam not thickening properly, but it set up just enough. I love jam still full of seeds and loose enough that it spreads easily.  No mysterious gloppiness.
     I am pretty darn pleased with this jam.  A smidge of tartness amidst a comforting sweetness, and a consistency that allows for plenty of tasty possibilities.  I've been eating it by spoonfuls, but I think I must drizzle it over some lemon pound cake and homemade vanilla ice cream soon.  Or layer it in a gooey Monte Cristo sandwich tonight.
     I have plenty of ideas up my sleeve and peace of mind knowing that there are jars of jam to pop open and enjoy even as berry season dwindles and I no longer have pints of fresh fruit overflowing on our counter.

Not Enough Time

    As much as people love having family and friends visit them, for many it can be stressful trying to accommodate picky needs and disgruntled travelers.  Fortunately, my parents and their best friends love to eat and drink and aren’t too picky.  Which means when they came to visit recently, I had a great excuse to eat a lot of good food and try new places that have been on my to-go list. 

    My parents have been to Portland before, but it was nice to be sharing the city with them now that I know it better.  It was the first time for their friends, and I was happy to see them realize why I love it here. 

    We traveled out to the coast one day and walked on the beach as the fog slowly lifted in the afternoon to reveal Haystack Rock.  I was just on vacation with the same group and they’re kids in Florida…pretty interesting to go from the white sand and dunes of the Gulf to the turbulent surf and stunning landscape of the Oregon coast.  It is so different from what we think of as a sunny beach experience, yet the sand in our toes and the crash of the waves had the same magical powers to calm and refresh our spirits.  

    That night was the big Parents Meet The Boyfriend Dinner.  We went to Irving Street Kitchen; it’s a great casual and up-beat atmosphere for that sort of potentially stressful event.  I’m happy to say it was stress-free.  We had a fun dinner, decent food, and enjoyed each other’s company enough to grab another drink at Clyde Common afterwards.  

    Our group of 6 played at the PSU Farmer’s Market before we loaded up to go to the biggest antique show I have ever seen. We returned exhausted and hungry for an early dinner at Castagna.  I was pleased with Portland’s choice for Restaurant of the Year.  The food was excellent, the plating/presentation was stunning, but we thought the service was really lacking considering all the hype.  Nevertheless, no one else in town creates food with such precision and delicacy, and I hope it encourages other chefs to take more risks.  

     We also had an awesome dinner at Andina.  Every dish was big and bold and wonderfully different from the next.  I tasted everything at the table and really liked every bit of it.  I appreciate cuisine that makes you sit up and notice what’s going on.  

    There were also stops for perfectly made drinks at Teardrop, cupcakes at Cupcake Jones, Two Tarts cookies, food cart feasts, ice cream at Cool Moon, breakfast and scones at Bakery Bar, and all the treats at the coast and farmer’s market.  What I’m saying is…we all gained 5 pounds.  No, what I’m really saying is- I feel very lucky to live in a beautiful city so abundant with food, drink, and entertainment that one weekend is just not enough. I’m so glad my parents celebrated their 50^th birthdays by traveling to see me, and I’m already anxious for their return. 

Chocolate Cherry Cheesecake Ice Cream

        I’m pretty pleased with myself about this particular ice cream I made.  Granted, the recipe for the base belongs to David Lebovitz, but the final outcome is a big winner. I scaled back the amount of lemon zest he calls for and added another pinch of salt, and I used Neufchatel cream cheese instead of the big whammy full-fat variety.   I think the 1/3-less-fat option is still very rich in flavor and it doesn’t compromise the ice cream texture when frozen. 

    For add-ins, I cut my potted cherries (from previous post) in half and crumbled chocolate wafer cookies into small pieces. I wanted a portion of these bits to break apart, so I added them while the ice cream was still spinning.  I only let that go about 20 seconds. If you let the particles spin too long, they basically “dissolve” into the ice cream and become homogenous. I also drizzled in some of the juice from the cherries.  Once I removed the spinner, I mixed in the other half of cherries and chocolate wafers by hand.  

    This ice cream is dense and rich and the tangy cream cheese is perfectly balanced by the sweetness of the cherries and chocolate.  The flavor is absolutely improved by the depth of the potted cherries, thanks to the cherry balsamic vinegar and tarragon they’re steeped in.  The wafer cookies soften but still maintain a gentle bite I enjoy.  What I really love is the texture even once the ice cream has hardened in the freezer.  It remains incredibly creamy and soft straight out of the container.  

    It has not escaped my notice that July is National Ice Cream month.  In fact, today is National Ice Cream Day! I am an all too willing participant in the celebration. I’m beginning to think that I should be creating ice cream professionally.  At least then I would have an outlet for my ice cream fervor.  

With A Cherry On Top

      Northwest cherries are spilling over buckets and barrels these days. I have been eating them by giant bowlfuls and pulling out two, three, or seven every time I go by the fridge.  Considering there is some ungraceful sucking and spitting involved with eating them right off the stem, I’m not sure how they disappear so fast.  But maybe that’s part of the reason I like them so much…a little work for my food…a little accidental cherry stain here and there. 

Cherries make me think of my Papa and his cherry trees in the backyard.  I used to wait anxiously all year for the day the cherries were ready to be picked.  I’m across the country from those trees now, and I still get excited when I know it’s that time back home.  I loved finding all the best cherries, the pretty clusters buried further back in the branches, climbing a ladder to snatch the brightest, shiniest one.  Popping them in my mouth as we gathered our treasures on a sunny day. 

I loved heading inside where my Grammy covered me in aprons and old shirts against the threat of splattering juice stains.  We sat around the kitchen table pitting until we’d measured out enough cups for plenty of fresh cherry pies.  And then those pies…whether created by the expert hands of my mother or grandmother, other pies are never quite the same.  Watching them make the dough, waiting for it to rest, watching them roll the crust, fill the pie, and crimp the edges, waiting for the pie to bake and cool- well, many distractions are required for small children involved in pie-making.  But that moment when the pie is just cool enough to set up, yet still warm enough to melt homemade ice cream plopped on top into a pool of rich cream …is so completely worth the wait.  I crave the ping-pong bites of sweet and tart cherries, the bottom crust that softens as it soaks up the thickened filling, and the perfectly crunchy, buttery top crust to balance the soft fruit. 

This is not the project I took on this week; I fear not meeting my own expectations.  However, I did grab a half flat from the farmer’s market to make a spicy cherry pickle and I tried the Ad Hoc recipe for sweet potted cherries.  The pickle has a lot of fresh ginger and habanero pepper in the mix.  I can’t wait to try this one; I think they might be just right with a creamy baked cheese or mashed a bit in a grilled cheese sandwich.  The potted cherries require steeping the pits in balsamic vinegar, straining the liquid, and combining it with tarragon and black pepper.  I’d like to try these with a meat dish, but my first project will be to spin the sweet cherries into ice cream with a bit of very dark chocolate.  

My cherry adventures so far this year haven’t involved a perfect pie, but I did enjoy making the pickle with my boyfriend.  Plus, the half dozen jars of cherries I have will last much longer than any fresh cherry pie would in my kitchen. 

Lip Smackin' Good

    Thank you, thank you Slab Town.  I fulfilled my craving for some great ribs and BBQ yesterday.  This particular craving has been building up for awhile, and it only worsened when I had some not-so-great ribs a few weeks ago.  

    Fortunately, this joint shares a bar with a Mexican restaurant and we were able to have some blended margaritas with our meal.  With the spicy sauce, it was quite a nice pairing.  

My friend and I each got the sampler platter. Yes, far more food than we needed, but since when do I care about that?  Two ribs, brisket, a pulled pork slider, a few pieces of sausage and two sides.  Between us we sampled the baked beans, collard greens, mac’n cheese and biscuits.  All the meat was tender and smoky, but the ribs were really all I wanted more of.  When I return, it will be those meltingly tender, fall right off the bone ribs that I order.  They have just the right amount of crispy char on the edges; I was full, but some magic rib power kept putting more in my mouth.  We tried the mix of their mild and hot sauces; it was thick and rich, with an addictive sweetness.  Tasted like the BBQ sauce back home.  I only needed a little pitcher of it to slather more on.  The sides didn’t blow me away, although I thoroughly enjoyed the fluffy buttermilk biscuits with the side of honey butter.  

     Before we waddled out of there, I ordered a half-rack of ribs and biscuits to bring home for my significant other.  He did a number licking those bones clean last night, but there are still a few left. I’m sure he assumes he’ll be eating them for lunch today.  However, he’s not here, and it looks like I’m getting to the fridge first.

Finally Summer

    The weather is finally beautiful and warm. The calendar said First Day of Summer, and it was like a switch was flipped.  Whatever the reason, I'm a happy camper now. I've been waiting anxiously to stretch out like a cat in the sun, to read, eat, nap and relax as a warm breeze envelops my body.  Does this sound a bit cheesy?  Maybe... but I know I suffer from some seasonal depression; warm and sunny weather does a lot for my mood.
    This time of year also means ice cream.  As in, it is now socially acceptable to devour large amounts of it everyday.  Plus, with the proliferation of beautiful berries at the farmer's market, it is only right that I put it to good use and make ice cream at home. However, in the spirit of being healthy, I made a strawberry frozen yogurt this week.
     Let me clarify... this is no frozen custard (aka my drug).  It's not thick, creamy or fatty enough, but for a frozen yogurt? Hot dog. How can you go wrong with several pounds of fresh, perfectly ripe strawberries in the mix?  I used a nonfat Greek yogurt with minimal extra sugar, a little salt, lemon juice, and strawberries.  It is excellent. I've read some concern about the texture that particular yogurt produces, but I have not had trouble.  Just allow the yogurt to soften a bit out of the freezer.  
     I also teamed up with my friend who just finished infusing a bottle of vodka with pineapple and habanero.  We threw the vodka in the blender with my yogurt and what a treat.  It was sweet and refreshing, way too easy to drink, and had nice lingering kick as we went back for more.
     Welcome sweet summer; I'm excited for all this weather has in store.

Homesick for Florida

     I just returned from my annual family vacation to St. George Island, Florida.  That's an 18 hour drive (one way) from Oklahoma to the panhandle of Florida, quite the trip over the years with my 3 younger brothers and myself in the backseat.  A lot of fighting, laughing, crying, farting and punching, but those 2 days of close quarters are worth every moment we spend sitting on that white sand.  Aside from my family's roots in the area, Apalachicola and St. George feel like home after years of each anxiously awaited beach pilgrimage.  We've watched the towns change and grow ever so slightly; for the most part, the communities have remained quaint and tied to the locals.  The quiet beaches are my family's escape and peace; our chance each year to just slow down and breathe.
     Now that I'm living in Portland, I have the privilege of flying across country to join the troops along the way.  I have to say- I really missed being there for all our little traditions and stops on our route.
But the special treat of this year was having my young niece and nephew in tow and seeing the beach through their eyes.  The dolphins were in fine form this year, more at once than we've ever seen before.  They played and jumped right next to us on our boat trip for shelling and dolphin-watching.  My niece was pointing and squealing with glee at every dolphin that surfaced.
     We did plenty of cooking, eating, and drinking with the Haney family at our house, but we also hit up all the local joints for our favorite meals.  Oysters, shrimp, crabcrakes, and corn fritters at Boss Oyster.  Nothing better than knowing that the boats tied up to the dock off the restaurant's patio just hauled in the fish we are eating.  More boiled shrimp and cocktail sauce from Dave's shrimp truck.  Then grilled shrimp, fried shrimp, soft shell crab, and more at Owl Cafe.   We had crabcake sandwiches, conch fritters, grouper, burgers, and lots more shrimp at Blue Parrot right on the beach.  Hard to keep the kids in their seats with the sand so close.  We had our favorite chicken and bacon pizza from B.J.'s after a rowdy good time playing bingo at the firehouse.  Dad was a big winner, and we won a giant watermelon in door prizes!  I think I was the most excited about the enormous watermelon.  And as the bright pink and orange sun slowly set on our boat trip, we ate oysters straight out of the water with a little tabasco and saltines.
"We"- well, at least the 3 of us willing to slurp down an oyster.
      It was a perfect, beautiful week relaxing on the beach, and quite a shock to return home to a 50 degree and rainy Portland.  I'm homesick already, but know I'll be back before long.  

My Birthday Dinner

  Well, I lied.  About eating salad that is.
   I came home Sunday night to a wonderful surprise.  My boyfriend spent the day preparing a special birthday dinner for me.  On Saturday he went to the farmer's market and bought lamb, beautiful snap peas, and rhubarb.  Have I said how much I love lamb? I do.  I generally can't resist it on menus.  It could go without saying that his lamb was delicious, but I will.  It was meltingly tender, and stewed with beans in white wine.  A dish he picked up during his stage in Paris.  That made me smile too; I've been waiting to taste his new tricks in the kitchen.
   And then there were the peas.  Stunning, giant, thick, and crunchy, so full of flavor I would have thought he just picked them off the vine outside our door.  Then, he sauteed them in butter...quite a bit of butter.  I was sold.  We had a great asparagus salad on the side with mushrooms, onion, and feta.
   For dessert, my sweet man made a rosemary rhubarb crumble.  He is a very talented chef, but would be the first to say that dessert is not his specialty.  Hasn't made any in years, yet he was giddy about this dish.  His excitement was justified.  First, he made a rosemary rhubarb syrup with the ends and trimmings of the rhubarb.  With part of that syrup he cooked thinly sliced ribbons of rhubarb to tender with some of the flaked mace he brought back from France.  In this shape you can truly taste the rhubarb, get to know its tart flavor, and maintain a consistent texture.  I often find that rhubarb in tarts or pies is too mushy, too crunchy, or masked by the flavors of other fruit.  It was baked with his oatmeal brown sugar streusel on top and served with a yogurt whipped cream made with more of the rosemary rhubarb syrup.
   Dinner was such a treat, and even more special knowing that the menu was designed with me in mind.  A birthday present I won't forget.

Sunny Santa Fe

   My birthday was Wednesday, and it was a perfect excuse for my mom and I to meet in Santa Fe for a two-night stay.  No surprise, it was a (too) fast, fun weekend full of food and drink.
   After flying into Albuquerque, we drove to Santa Fe, stopping at the original Range Cafe in Bernalillo along the way.  Carne adovada tacos and tamales with red and green chile.  Every bite was awesome.  I love the two chiles together, also known as "Christmas" when ordering in New Mexico.  Both can be very spicy depending on the chiles and the season, but the red had more heat at the restaurants I went to on this trip.  I like the balance of the sweet, roasted green chiles and the smoky red chiles.  We were off with a bang.
   That night we had dinner at a Spanish tapas restaurant, El Farol.  Lovely food and a jumpin' little joint with the locals once the band started playing. We had the grilled romaine stuffed with Spanish goat cheese and roasted tomato vinaigrette. Grilled shrimp with chipotle mango cream. Grilled rib-eye skewer with chimmichurri and crispy, spiced patatas bravas.  Chorizo with fig aioli (the most intriguing for me- I want to make it).  Penne in poblano, manchego, and pinon cream.  Sauteed spinach with raisins, garlic, and pinon.  Baked Spanish goat cheese with pinon flatbread, roasted garlic and asparagus.  Reggiano crusted artichokes in lemon-caper butter.  We were too full to even finish all the tapas, but that didn't stop us from ordering dessert!  A luscious tres leches, different from many I've had.  It had a lot of cinnamon and the cake was swimming in plenty of sweet milk.
   The next day we made a trip to the Santa Fe Farmer's Market. What a treat; it was fun to see their community thriving and loving their local farmers and producers.  We grabbed a couple pastries from local bakeries for breakfast- a huge chocolate croissant and a stuffed green chile and cheese flatbread.  Mom also picked up a wonderful loaf of purple walnut bread (excellent with the local raspberry jam) to take home.
   We had lunch at the The Shed with margaritas, tacos and enchiladas in Christmas chile, posole, and green chile potato stew.  All great, but we liked the Range better.
   For dinner on Saturday we went to Aqua Santa; a small restaurant off the beaten path and a new favorite for locals.  A short, well-composed menu.  The warm escarole and calamari salad was bright and rich.  Halibut with lentils, tapenade and greens were cooked perfectly, but they needed a bit of fat and salt.  The chicken was incredibly moist and tender with a caramelized skin and velvety sauce over greens and polenta.  I loved this dish.  And the flirtatious chef in the open kitchen was kind enough to send us extra wine and dessert!  A strawberry rhubarb crisp and a flourless chocolate cake.  A fun dinner, and fortunately we had a long walk home before falling asleep with full bellies.
   On the morning of our departure we had breakfast at Tecolote Cafe.  Eight choices of bread for the French toast- have to appreciate that!  The blue cornmeal pinon pancakes were worthy of breaking into song and dance.  Nutty, fluffy, the subtle crunch of cornmeal... I'm looking forward to creating my own version.
   I had a great weekend with my mom and look forward to a second visit to Santa Fe.  For now, I need to eat some salad.

Presents From France

    My boyfriend returned from his trip to France - Paris, Strasbourg, Honfleur, Cancale, and Lyon- with many stories of travel and meals that I am achingly jealous of.  Wine, cheese, more wine, slowly dining and lounging at meals in Paris.  Giant platters of seafood in Brittany.  Jaw-dropping dessert carts wheeled up to his table.  Cheese plates cut and dishes sauced tableside.  It's all a bit of a fantasy for me.
    On the upside, he brought some treats back for me to enjoy too.  Exciting new spices for us to cook with, mace and long peppers, that I've only seen in magazines.  A beautiful box of chocolates with intricate little molds (ducks, rabbits, bouquet of roses) that were almost too pretty to eat- almost.  Another box of chevre chocolates that I was very intrigued by; they were small and delicate.  Four different fillings- plain, thyme, cumin, and roquefort.  Definitely unusual, but the size of each piece allowed for a nice balance between the rich chocolate and tangy cheese.
    But all this pales in comparison to the macarons from Pierre Herme.  The macarons that I have blabbered about to anyone who will listen.  The macarons that I've been dreaming about since.  The macarons that made my mouth drop open in amazement.  There may have been a high-pitched squeal.
The seven in the pack he brought back were so not enough.  The flavors we tried were:
  Olive oil and Vanilla, Salted Butter Caramel, Strawberry and Balsamic, Apricot and Pistachio,
  Lemon, Pistachio and Griottine, Chocolate.
    It was impossible to pick a favorite, although the olive oil and vanilla came close.
Now, I've had French macarons prior to this occasion, and they were pretty and fun, but I've never thought they tasted as good as they looked.  They usually have a weird egg white slick and a too airy crunch.  Not these.  The cookie is flawless- tender and soft, but not crumbly, just the right density.  The fillings were incredibly intense.  How is there so much flavor in that little amount?  None were cloyingly sweet.  Perfect.  I have an insatiable sweet tooth and am pulled like a magnet to baked goods, desserts, or confections wherever I go.  But these macarons blew my mind.  If you are ever in Paris or Tokyo please eat them, and then bring some back to me.

I've Been Eating

     Hmm... I've been neglecting my posts lately, but I haven't been neglecting my stomach.
Tried quite a few new spots around Portland.  Here is a bit of what I thought:

Bamboo Sushi:
  They are the first certified sustainable sushi restaurant and have a fairly large menu of Japanese cuisine.
I appreciated the quick walk from my home and the contemporary, yet relaxed atmosphere. We had two sake flights, scallop carpaccio, and an assortment of nigiri and rolls.  It was all good, but the highlight for me was the saba or house pickled mackerel.  I would like to go back just for that.
We actually had sushi again the next day (with a boyfriend just back from a month in France, butter is the last thing he is craving).  Sinju- with locations in the Pearl, Bridgeport Village, and Clackamas- it was just okay. The bottom line...we've found our favorite place for sushi is Hiroshi.

Spints:
   A new alehouse just two blocks from my house.  My friend and I decided it was an older/calmer version of Prost. (Also a recent try and a fun German pub).  The design of the interior was inviting and cozy, easy to relax there.  We went late for drinks, but couldn't resist ordering a couple items.  We tried the fried morels- great crunch and texture, earthy, salty, and perfect with our beer.  We both appreciated the cheese board for the clean and simple presentation.  I was surprised to see a full dinner menu and plan to return to try more.

Tabla:
   I really wanted this to be better.  We got the $24, 3-course dinner; a great bargain for an appetizer, pasta, and entree.  The seared ricotta and nettle gnudi was less interesting than it sounded, but good.  The fish trio was not.  Our pastas were definitely the winners of the meal.  The tabla ravioli was fun to eat and the poppy seed butter really made the dish.  The black pepper fettuccini with sorrel pesto had a nice texture and balanced flavor.  The salmon in lobster broth with spring veggies was cooked to a frightening firmness and where was the lobster flavor?  I enjoyed the spice and richness of the lamb crepinette and black olive semolina cake, but the crepinette was also overcooked.  It was in a sauce that was more of a tomato broth than a harissa, as the menu described.  The wine pairings were also lacking for some courses, but I'm still willing to give Tabla a second chance.

Belly Timber:
    Oh my.  Admittedly we were treated quite nicely thanks to my friend being previous co-workers with the chef and cook in the kitchen, but still... everything I tried was delicious.  They have a fabulous happy hour menu and a great cocktail list to boot.  Here is the feast we had:
Pork Meatball Sliders- perfect texture
Beet Salad
House Ricotta (a bit of sweetness, honey?) and Grilled Bread
Duck Wings with Quince, Chiles and Mint- the quince was the sweet spot of this dish
Oyster and Smoked Salmon Tater Tot with Salsa Verde- fun take on a comfort food done well
Boudin Noir with Romesco and Rapini
Crispy Pig Ears- I'd take these over fries
Maple Braised Pork Cheeks with Sweet Potato Pancakes, Swiss Chard and Apple Jam-  my oh my- my       favorite!
Roasted Pork Belly over lentils with a fennel and greens salad- great!
Roasted Bone Marrow with Sea Salt, Capers and Herbs- lovely
Makers Mark Ice Cream with Cacao Nibs- subtle and a perfect end
  Our drinks:  Cherry BlossomCello Soda, BT Collins, &Everything Nice

It was all fantastic. We were so full I thought I might explode.
I highly recommend this restaurant!

Ciao Vito:
   Another happy hour gem and it is all day on Sunday!  I will absolutely be back.
We had the fried meatballs, potato fontina fritters, pork sugo, beet salad, and crispy flatbread with pork and cheese off the happy hour menu.  All excellent.
My friend and I are suckers for razor clams so we had to try their dinner special and it delivered.
For dessert (still makes me giggle):
Housemade peanut butter gelato in a hot fudge sundae with crunchy little peanuts and a peanut biscotti on top alongside our warm Moroccan coffees.
The portions were nice, the drinks were fun, and everything was tasty.  I also love the atmosphere; just the kind of neighborhood, cozy, friendly place I want to hunker down in for hours.

Vindalho:
   Made a visit to Vindalho on Mother's Day with my friend who once worked there.  Well, I already love Indian cuisine and this meal satisfied that craving!
Started with a Lemongrass Martini, Chicken Seekh Kababs, Paneer Pakoras, and Masala Chicken Wings with a tamarind yogurt chutney.  Those wings...yum... very spicy with an edge of sweetness and the cooling chutney.  We also split the lamb curry and naan.  The lamb was meltingly tender in the rich coconut milk broth.  I am big fan of lamb, but this is a dish that turns lamb haters into lovers (including my eating companion).
I was stuffed and can't wait to go back.

Dreaming of France

     On Sunday I took my boyfriend to the airport for his month long trip to France.  He'll be cooking in a restaurant in Paris for 2 weeks and traveling around northern France for the other two.  Four weeks of incredible food, wine, and exploring a beautiful country.  Well, I'm pretty darn jealous, and I'm missing him a lot.  So, I decided I needed to have my own small food adventures around town while he is gone.
     This morning I went over to An Xuyen Bakery on 54th and Foster.  I'd read great things about their  French and Vietnamese breads and pastries, and I've been craving a Banh Mi sandwich...it was calling my name.  The tiny shop was overflowing with beautiful pastries, breads, and buns.  They also make specialty cakes and wedding cakes.  I purchased a traditional banh mi, a baguette, a Walnut Crisp (basically a flat round of puff pastry covered in sugar and studded with walnuts), and a guava cookie.  $5.23!  What a steal.
Shiny display case, great prices, they're really winning me over.  And the taste followed through.
The banh mi was nice- crunchy vegetables and spicy mayonnaise.  The crisp would be perfect with an espresso with a bit of cream.  I'm a sucker for the flaky layers of butter and sugar.  But it's this guava cookie that really sealed the deal.  I'd like to go back and get ten more.  I didn't realize what I was getting.
It just looked like a sugar cookie with bits of guava flecked through it.  Boy was I wrong.  The most tender, buttery crumb opened to a gooey, deep rose, guava jelly interior.  It was so delicate that it barely held together as I bit into it.  This is the best mood I've been in since my blues began on Sunday morning.
So, this will just have to be a month of food finds, new restaurants, and experimenting in the kitchen.  Maybe I'll learn something fabulous too.

Batter Fried Chicken

     Eric loves to tease me about my accent, which he does by attempting to imitate me.  We've been working on the subtle, yet important, differences between country and southern accents.  Lately, I find his mimicry to be very similar to that of the characters in the Country Bear Jamboree  ride at Disney World.  Exaggerated is an understatement, but this is really a vast improvement.  However, I thought I'd indulge him a little and stick to my southern roots by making some fried chicken for dinner.
      Last summer my mother and I used a batter recipe from a Cook's Country issue, and it was far superior to other fried chicken in my vast fried chicken eating experience.  Needless to say, I went that route again Tuesday night.  The chicken goes into a quick brine while the batter is whisked together  and rests in the fridge.  The batter is a simple combination of flour, cornstarch, baking powder, salt, pepper, paprika, cayenne, and cold water.  The chicken is patted dry, dipped in the batter, and dunked straight into the hot oil.  The oil is heated to 325 and each batch takes between 12 and 15 minutes.  Couldn't get much simpler. No extra long soaking times necessary, and the chicken is incredibly moist and juicy.  I love that the batter is spicy, light, and crispy.  I don't feel weighed down like I do with heavily breaded fried chicken.  Plus, with my handy countertop fryer, I got out of the deal without greasy splatter and stink all over me and the kitchen.
      We ate our chicken with big, fluffy cheddar biscuits.  Their golden, crunchy tops and soft crumb were perfect for spreading on butter and honey.  And even though it was a little out of place with the rest of our meal, we thought the biscuits were just begging us to try the new, expensive French butter Eric found recently at a local specialty market.  Yea, that was a winner.
      I also made my favorite baked beans in individual cast iron pots.  I crave this recipe of my mom's from Our Country Cookin', and it was always my request at any meal worthy of baked beans.  And with some fried 'taters on the side, we were more than full.
      So, Eric can laugh about the southern accent all he wants, but he clearly can't deny the food that comes with it.  He managed to eat all the leftover chicken for both lunch and dinner yesterday.  I think he liked it.

Taking Time

     Moving is never fun.  I've moved a lot in the past 6 years.  In fact, my current move marks number ten;  you'd think I'd be an expert by now.  I am more efficient, but it never gets any easier.  Stuff tends to accumulate, and since what I collect generally falls into the categories of Kitchen and Cookbooks, my loads are not exactly lightweight.
     Yesterday I moved quite a few of these heavy loads....one.at.a.time.  I must have looked ridiculous scurrying back and forth from the car, across the courtyard, to the front door of the apartment building.  And thanks to the cold I've had the last few days, I was producing quite the attractive wheezing sound.  I'm just grateful the weather here in Portland is sunny and beautiful right now.
     All this to say that getting home and cooking a warm and satisfying meal was precisely what my body needed.  I made a barley risotto with cara cara orange, arugula, crème fraîche, and toasted walnuts.  After sautéing the onion, shallot, garlic, and toasting the barley, I just pulled a chair right up to the stove while I added the liquid.  I turned on some music, grabbed my book, and for forty minutes forgot all about my list of packing chores as I slowly stirred my risotto.  There is something mesmerizing about watching grains gradually puff and become tender and creamy.  I love that I can listen to the bubbling of broth, watch simple ingredients transform into my delicious dinner, and suddenly feel totally relaxed. 
     I was nourished by this meal, in a way that eating a quick bite standing up in a restaurant never allows for.  I have neglected to spend that long cooking at home recently.  I've been letting another move across town stress me out, and this was all I needed.  A calm hour alone in my kitchen to put things back into perspective and remind me that taking the time to take care of myself is every bit worth it.  
      

A Love Letter to Pumpkin Rolls

     Yes, it is just the standard cake and icing roll that's in every Junior League and Betty Crocker cookbook.  They come in plenty of flavor combinations, but the pumpkin roll with cream cheese icing is the one I wait patiently for all year.  I realize I could make one myself, but then I'd have a whole cake in my possession...that's dangerous.  I have visions of the episode of Sex and the City when Miranda tries to throw away the remainder of a cake she has almost entirely devoured, and then just eats it out of the trash.
That could easily be me.
     So I did not make one myself, and I also missed out on this treat at both Thanksgiving and Christmas.  However, I requested that out of the slew of pumpkin rolls produced at the Crazy 8 Cafe over the holidays, one be tucked safely away in the freezer for when I finally made it back to Chickasha for a visit.  In the weeks before my arrival in January, I checked in on the status of my pumpkin roll multiple times.  I didn't want it to accidentally be served to paying customers....that would be silly.  They couldn't possibly appreciate it as much as me.
     Well, somehow my week at home passed by without eating the pumpkin roll.  (Perhaps because of all the other food I was eating- see previous post)  I was sitting at my mother's cafe only hours before my flight when I remembered my little bundle of joy and flew out of my chair to retrieve it from the freezer.
So, there I was, toting pieces of pumpkin roll across the country wrapped tightly in plastic and foil.  I was mildly concerned airport security might wonder why I had so much foil in my carry-on.  But all went smoothly and I had the perfect welcome home gift before I headed back to a week of work.
     Moist pumpkin cake, sweet and tangy cream cheese icing, crunchy bits of pecan, and the glory of the roll itself- cake and icing enjoyed equally in every bite.  Because to me, uneven proportions of components is the downfall of most cakes.  Picture used plates at parties- the icing and half the cake are gone, with half a piece of crumbled cake mushed all around and destined for the trash.  Not a problem here!  I ate each piece as slow as possible, scraping every morsel off the plate with the edge of my fork.  I was a pretty happy girl, and I had to make those bites carry me through to the end of the year.

A Tasty Trip Home

     I finally made it back to Chickasha, OK for a visit with my family, and it was just the vacation I needed.  As is typical of my visits home, I did a lot of eating.  Between the old favorites I crave from my mom's kitchen, my favorites from her cafe, getting my fix of BBQ and burgers from the local joints, cooking new dishes with my mom, and gathering with family and friends over meals, I had quite a lot to check off my list in 6 days.  I think I won the challenge.
     My first night home we had a tasty stuffed pork loin, and most importantly, what I always request, garlic green beans.  It's a silly thing to love so much, but I don't care.  And it's clearly not seasonal in January, still don't care.  Whole canned green beans, cooked in butter, garlic, and brown sugar...lots of it...as in swimming. If ya wanna get fancy, you can make them into little green bean bundles wrapped in a piece of bacon; we usually save that effort for the holidays.  I've been teased for my excitement over these beans, but they make me truly happy.
     The next night was dinner out with my parents' best friends and their kids.  Rich lamb ragu, spicy pasta, braised short ribs, risotto, pizza, and wine were all shared over a dinner full of laughs with the Haney family.  To really top it off, we stopped for frozen yogurt at Orange Tree.  This place has more yogurt and topping options than any other frozen yogurt store I've seen.  I was giddy.
     I had my much beloved chocolate chip bread pudding with warm caramel sauce at the cafe.  Oh man...that stuff deserves its own story.
     Then there was Roy's BBQ night:  chopped beef sandwich and waffle fries.  I love good barbecue, and this is number one for me.
     My mom and I made tender and juicy braciola one evening.  A rolled steak filled with herbs, seasoning, prosciutto, and provolone; we braised it in a tomato sauce and served it all over spaghetti.
     I was able to join my mother's side of the family for their new tradition of Souper Sundays they've begun this year. A simple supper of a soup, bread or side, and dessert is an easy way to gather for a couple hours every week.  We tried a version of Argentine locro.  Spicy and thick vegetable and sausage stew, topped with cilantro, cotija cheese, and crunchy roasted squash seeds.
     And perhaps my big winner for the week- homemade brioche doughnuts from a Cuisine at Home book.  It was a beautiful brioche dough I spent several hours with on Saturday and then chilled overnight.  On Sunday morning I rolled it out, cut my shapes, and fried 'em up.  I covered most with a pomegranate glaze, and treated a few to a cinnamon sugar coating or a chocolate butterscotch glaze.  Well, brioche already makes my heart pitter patter, and what's not delicious fried?  Golden brown and crispy, warm, buttery and soft inside... I preferred to eat mine plain.  Too easy to pop the little doughnut holes in my mouth as I stood there frying.  I also satisfied my craving for a hot and fresh doughnut.  I'm a firm believer that doughnuts are a waste of time if they're not hot, and these were just as good re-warmed the next day.  My dad said they were the best doughnuts he'd ever had, and I think I must agree.

    

Holiday Ham

     This Christmas marked a milestone in my life:  I cooked my first holiday ham for just my boyfriend and me.  I was quite pleased with the entire experience.
     I ordered my ham from Gartner's Meat Market here in Portland.  I'd never made the drive out to 74th and NE Killingsworth, and what an adventure it was. I got there a bit before they opened at 10:00 a.m. on the Sunday before Christmas, and thank goodness.  There was a line outside the locked doors as if people were headed into a rock concert.  The parking lot was even equipped with a traffic controller.  These people are serious about their meat.  I  had ordered a fresh ham because I intended to use my own brine and smoke it.  Unfortunately, there was a mix up on their papers and I received a partially smoked ham.  The employee that helped me was kind enough to call later when he realized the mistake. Great customer service, but I didn't have the time to head back across town and trade.  No worries, I just switched gears and decided to cook my ham with my mother's delicious glaze.  I'm glad I did.
    I needed that old familiar comfort of her ham.  Smelling the brown sugar and mustard glaze bubbling on the fat, sneaking all the crispy sweet edge pieces for myself, and that first juicy bite of deliciously moist ham. What a fantastic thing to pull out of the oven as it glistens and steams, practically begging to be eaten.  We sat down to a Christmas night dinner of ham, homemade apple chutney, roasted brussel sprouts, and his own potato cake-like creation (which I'm actually craving this very moment).  My Christmas season finally stopped feeling like I was missing out on my family traditions; I was creating my own with someone I love.  
    And then, what I was perhaps looking forward to most: a leftover ham extravaganza.  Oh ham, for days and days... and then more ham.  Ham in omelets, salads, soups and a slew of ham sandwiches.  Pressed into a panini with hot mustard, cheese, and spicy pickles.  On jalapeno cheddar bagels or blue cornmeal bread.  Or pressed with chutney and hot sauce.  The options are endless.  I finally got around to cooking a big pot of white beans with the ham bone and extra shredded meat.  Butter, garlic, onion- so simple, but I can't seem to put the spoon down.
     I feel like I need to thank the pig that provided us with such a bounty of food.  An 8-pound ham was food for two for weeks.  The cooking technique or glaze I use may change each year, but a tradition of a holiday ham is one I plan to keep.