What can I make for lunch?

You know when you're moving out of a place and you don't want to buy more groceries, but you have a bizarre assortment of food items? What on earth can you make for yourself?!

This afternoon, I found myself wondering exactly that. The grocery here in Italy closes at 1 on Sundays and I'm on a mission to use up what I have. I'm notorious for buying new things and ye olde Italian rule of not working on Sundays made me get creative.
In looking through my cabinets I found I had potatoes, frozen peas, pasta, eggs, cans of tuna, a smidge of milk, butter, garlic, some kind of spreadable cheese, parmesan (a block that seems to be endless) and a box of sugary hazelnut filled crunchy cereal (nom). I stared at everything in hopes something would magically make itself, but alas. I had to do a little work. I decided to choose just a few of those ingredients and what I came up with was quite fantastic.


Instructions for quick, lunchtime happiness:
Cook pasta, whatever kind you have.

In a small pot, cook the peas as per the instructions.

In a small pan, melt butter and add garlic. Add the smidge of milk. Add the spreadable cheese. It will take a little time for this to melt, but it helps to thicken the sauce. You can leave this out if you're using cream or more milk or just don't have it. I only had 3 TBSP of milk left. I needed to add a little something more. While this is heating, grate parmesan and hope to whittle away at the massive block of cheese that seems to grow when you aren't looking.

When the peas are cooked, drain them and add to the sauce, as many as you'd like. If you had a bit of ham or bacon, that would be utterly delicious in this recipe. Once the pasta is done, drain and put the peas and sauce on top. Top with parmesan and salt and pepper to taste.

Quick, easy, high in dairy fat, will clog your arteries probably. But hey. At least you had lunch, right?

Pour me a glass

In the past two weeks, much has changed in my life. Still in Italy, the news grapevine is a long one. Being so far away from my daily grind alienates me from what's happening at home, but not always for the worst. I've learned my mother's godmother has recently passed, my brother is today a freer man, and I have been freed from my binds as well. I am beginning to pluck the grapes off the vine to make celebratory wine for all the good things in life. I have been surrounded by intelligent, interesting people this summer and have expanded my mind. I know I have more to achieve and have every tool to do so.

With all that, I must say nothing beats a homemade meal in an Italian piazza with friends, strangers, men in tights with drums, fire and scrolls. Here in Amelia, the locals embrace their history with proud hands and buckets of wine. What place on earth do you know of where teenage boys willingly wear tights and dress up in medieval garb to march around town playing drums and throwing flags? Amelia. That's where. We're gearing up for the Palio di Colombi (Race of the Doves) and it's been a medieval party for the past two weeks. On Sunday, the whole town will go watch the five contradas (neighborhoods) race their horses, joust, and the first crossbowman to hit a target and release the doves wins the Palio for his contrada. I get fitted for my costume tonight.

Sitting in that piazza, surrounded by four generations of these families and my classmates and teachers reminded me how small a world it is. We all, regardless of age or language, love good food, good company, and plenty of wine.

I'm not sure exactly what we ate, but you don't question such things when an Italian woman with a face that could tell you the stories of the world puts a plate in front of you. You say grazie and dig in. In between bites, be grateful for the sound of laughter, the cheers and chants of the young men of the neighborhood, and the seconds and thirds that are put on your plate from over your shoulder as you say something to your friends.

I was sitting at a table with a well known lawyer from NY who had previously given a lecture on restitution and we all just chatted. It was like dinner after an Open Studio in my previous life, but better. We shared stories and poked good humored fun at each other until the sensible people decided it was time to go home. The rest of us drank more wine and stayed up longer, are now very sleepy, but we were trying to hold on to those moments that were quickly floating off on clouds of cigarette smoke.

The moral of this story is enjoy the little things. The little things appear everywhere. Treasure these as these memories will always come back to you when you hear a song or smell home cooked food or catch a whiff of an oh-so-familiar perfume. They'll reappear when you least expect it and it's always better to remember with a smirk than a snarl.

Amelia and Simplicity

I am sitting on my terrace in Amelia, Italy, looking at grassy hills, olive trees, and in the distance, the old Roman town surrounded by a old stone wall complete with those little hole from which to shoot arrows. (My ancient architecture brain is failing me). I feel like I'm in summer camp with all the new things to explore, but an adult summer camp full of scents, sounds and tastes that only an adventurous creature would want to experience.

So far I've walked miles, found myself amongst buildings from 1134 (which I'll note is mildly inaccurate) navigated a grocery store, and sat at a corner cafe for hours. Not bad. What I've discovered are the simple things. Sitting with a coffee, talking. The smell of rain. The sweet taste of a simple slice of bread and butter. A beautiful red tomato. Fresh garlic with the stems still attached, opening a fresh container of mozzarella and having it feel just like it did when I made it from scratch. In a place where sensory overload is entirely possible, it's the simple things that are prized.

Since I started this entry, I've found myself in the garden of a palazzo owned by the same family for nearly 500 years. I sat with my classmates and some staff at a pizzeria over, I think, 10 litres of wine. The pizza I ate...I don't think there are words. It was topped with sausage, spicy pepperoni, bell peppers and mozzarella. Mama, the owner, will take good care of us while we're here, I've been told. If she lets me sit, laugh, eat and drink for hours like we did, I'm sure we'll all be just fine.

Today, I'm sitting in Porto Vino, having a glass of wine and a bit of salsicce secche. I've never had such delicious sausage, salami, and ham as I have here. I mean, it's hard to go wrong with a pig. They're mighty tasty. But this...un-effing believable. Truly. I think I need a new vocabulary. I don't own the words that could possibly describe the festival of flavors in my mouth. The casing has aged and dried to a chewy perfection. The meat is spiced with earthy pepper, leaving a sophisticated zip on your tongue. The little bits of fat melt in your mouth like butter and it coats your tongue with a duvet of little pig shaped clouds. And the olive oil on my bread. Fruit and earth and sweet and chewy and...and...and...I don't think I could ever need anything other than what's on my plate right at this moment. If I walked into the teeny, narrow Medieval street right now and was run over by a crazy driver in a Fiat taking that hairpin turn way too quickly, it would be okay.

I'm at the point of my siesta snack where I have just three bites left of my salsicce and a bit of bread and maybe a few sips of wine and I'm starting at it. I know when I take the next bite, it will be one fewer bite to my name. The next sip will be closer to an empty glass. This is all very sad. Until the next meal or snack and the next post...

Ice Cream Delirium

Part of my ice cream adventures have been to master one that doesn't crystallize before you can have your next bite. As a result, I have discovered the secret to the most velvety and seductive ice cream. Ever. This base has a mouth feel that you can only experience for yourself. I'll do my best to explain (without shorting out the keyboard from drooling). Your experience may be quite different. And I'm not responsible for resulting food coma and/or egg and cream shortage in your pantry. I made a batch for a birthday party and promptly ate it. All of it. I had to make another batch.

Let's discuss ice cream. Specifically, Earl Grey ice cream. I wanted to try something different, something mild, sophisticated, simple yet complex, and bottom line: delicious. I succeeded. This ice cream is a cross between a cup of tea and a spoonful of clouds and hugs. It's thick and creamy, light and delicate. If satin could be a taste, I think this might be it. While I have a soft spot (mainly my thighs) for chunky, crunchy-topping filled ice cream slathered in hot fudge and butterscotch, there's something so deliriously satisfying about a dish of this. It's unobtrusive, sleek and if ice cream could be, polite.

You can control the strength of the Earl Grey flavor based on how long you steep and how much tea you use. I haven't tried yet, but I'm sure this would also work well for all other kinds of tea. Chai and Jasmine come to mind...

The base, sans the tea, can be used for anything. Add a vanilla bean, add cocoa powder, add any kind of flavoring. You may need to experiment a bit as liquids obviously add more volume and may damper the custard making. But it's a flexible base and so good. You could also just make the base and top it with anything your ice cream loving heart desires. There's nothing wrong with that!

Earl Grey Tea Ice Cream
makes about 1 quart

1 cup whole milk
2 cups heavy cream
2 tbs. dry non-fat milk (this is the oh-so-secret trick to smooth and dreamy ice cream!)
3/4 cup sugar
5-6 tea bags (or fewer, or more, whatever you'd like)
5 egg yolks (bring them to room temperature. It works better this way)

Warm the milk, cream, dry milk and sugar in a saucepan. Remove from heat, place tea bags in the pan, cover and steep at room temperature for an hour. Remove tea bags. Do your best to keep your spoon out of this. I mean, what could possibly be wrong with cream and sugar infused with the glorious, ethereal Earl Grey tea?

Set up an ice bath - large bowl filled with ice, medium bowl that fits nicely on top of the ice. This is to chill the mixture before putting it in the machine. May seem unnecessary, but it really helps. You ever notice that the ice cream takes forever to churn, the stuff on the sides of the maker turns into ice cubes, and it never really sets right? Yeah. Use an ice bath.

Rewarm tea-infused milk. Whisk egg yolks together in a separate bowl. Slowly pour the milk mixture into the bowl with egg yolks, whisking constantly. This is called tempering. If you have your whisk going with one hand and pour veeeeerrrrryyyyy slowly with the other, you won't end up with scrambled eggs. Everyone cautions cooks about scrambled eggs in their custards - don't be scared, don't think you can't do it, just be mindful of what you're doing.

Return the milk and egg mixture to the saucepan, and cook over medium heat, stirring and scrapping the bottom of the pan constantly until the mixture thickens to a custard and coats the spatula.

Cool the mixture over the ice bath and freeze in your ice cream maker. Serve with a big spoon, in a big bowl and I went the extra step to serve with shortbread cookies. Mm. I made my own, recipe will be soon to follow, but you can buy them. I won't judge.

Tips, Tricks, etc.

- Use the dry milk! Seriously! You can make this without it, but honestly, why screw with a good thing? It keeps well in your pantry, use it in all your ice cream endeavors, use it in sticky buns. There's no excuse.

- Be patient with the custard, but keep a close eye on it. Also do your best not to just eat it straight out of the bowl. I'm contemplating a pastry with this as it's cream...

- If you do this on a whim and your eggs are in the fridge, pull them out and set into a bowl of warm water. There is less chance of tempering going wrong with room temp. eggs.

- If you're going to add crunchy bits (cookie bits, nuts, whatever) to this ice cream or any other you make, wait until the very last moment to add them. Also, don't chop too finely. The churning blade with crush up everything a bit more and you don't want to end up with a deliriously good ice cream with cookie mush.

Fleur de what?

Complex flavor personalities excite me. While nothing is quite as delicious as the simple sweetness of a New Jersey beefsteak tomato or the earthy, primal flavor of a proper steak, a flavor you need to dig through and think about is just plain exciting. It's amazing how different flavors interact and balance each other, heighten the sensation of flavors or mellow each other. If you want an extra chocolatey chocolate for fudge or truffles, add a smidge of put-hair-on-your-chest coffee. If you want to enliven something sinfully sweet, sprinkle a little salt into it. Ever notice salt in cookie recipes? There's a method to the madness.

The chemistry and science of cooking also excites me, which is probably why I love rich, decadent caramels. Watching sugar dissolve into water, thickening, bubbling, then browning. Amazing! I won't get into the depths of science for this explanation, you can look it up if you're curious as to why all that happens. All I have to say is pay attention to what you're doing. Not just so it doesn't burn and set your kitchen on fire, although that is important, but really pay attention to the stages of cooking. You'll be better for it in the end - you'll have a better relationship with and understanding of the food you make. Cooking is not just measuring out the right ingredients, it's a tactile interaction that becomes more successful when you really get into it. Most of the recipes I've learned from the family were all measured out by the feel and texture of the ingredients together. This familiarity allows you to problem solve in the kitchen - my cream sauce is too thin, I'll whisk in a quickie rue! Or, this is way too sticky, I'll add some more flour! Being able to pinpoint a problem and quickly solve it saves you heaps of time and stress. Cooking is fun! Don't let your food beat you into submission.

Making caramel is part mad scientist, part confectioner and part culinary master. In theory it's very easy with simple ingredients, but you must have patience and must be able to react quickly. It's a finicky treat that must be loved and seduced so it gives you exactly what you were looking for. I've made three batches and the first two ended up toffee. Delicious. Tough. Frustratingly tasty. At least I could get a little frustration out when breaking the toffee with a hammer! What I've learned is there are guidelines for high altitude candy making. Of course there is, but I just didn't think about it. My toffee escapades, jaw fatigue, and resulting TMJ symptoms were a result of over cooking. Oops! For every 1,000 feet above sea level you are, reduce the final temperature by 2 degrees. (Therefore, for every 500 ft, reduce by 1 degree.) Also, have all your tools at hand and prep the pan before you start heating anything. Candy making is all in the timing and you'll need to work quickly.

With all that said...Fleur de Sel caramels. I know you've seen them in fancy pants stores and probably think you couldn't possibly make them yourself. But you can!

Fleur de what? Fleur de Sel. It's a sea salt from France. It sounds a little pretentious, I know. French sea salt? Why the heck would I need sea salt, let alone French sea salt? Have yourself a little taste test. Your standard iodized table salt will taste like salty chemical death compared to sea salt varieties. I use sea salt for everything now, fine grained for my S & P shakers, coarse for cooking. Trust me.

Fleur de Sel translates to salt flower and it's harvested by hand off the very tippy top of salt pools. It's kinda gray in color, very delicate and almost flakey, moister than other salts, and can be pricey. It dissolves quickly, so it's not to be used as other salts for seasoning while cooking, it's more of a garnish. Since so little is used at a time, it makes up for the sticker shock. Invest! Research good prices! And Dean & Deluca is having a sale on their salts. Also check out Salt Traders. Even if you just use it for these caramels, it's so worth it. You will look like the culinary rock star you always believed you were.

(Due to some bizarre technical difficulties, the recipe follows in another post)

Fleur de what recipe

Fleur de Sel Caramels:
Special tools needed are a candy thermometer (digital or plain old) and parchment paper

1 cup heavy cream
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 teaspoon fleur de sel
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1/4 cup water

Line bottom and sides of an 8-inch square baking pan with parchment paper. I find it easiest to cross two rectangular pieces of parchment over each other rather than trying to fit a big square into a pan. Think of the pan as the four directions - one piece north to south, the other east to west. Then lightly oil parchment. Non stick spray will work as long as it's not the butter flavor and you spray lightly.

Bring cream, butter, and fleur de sel to a boil in a small saucepan, then remove from heat and set aside.

Heat sugar, corn syrup, and water in a 3- to 4-quart heavy saucepan, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Boil, without stirring but gently swirling pan, until mixture is a light golden caramel. Be patient, this might take a little while. But keep a close eye on it. If it burns, you'll have to toss it and start again.

Carefully pour in cream mixture while stirring the sugar (mixture will bubble up violently. Stand back a bit!) and simmer, stirring frequently, until caramel registers 248°F (if you're at sea level) on thermometer, 10 to 15 minutes. If you're higher up in elevation, reduce the final temperature by 2 degrees for every 1,000 ft above sea level. Pour into baking pan and cool 2 hours. You may sprinkle a bit more salt over the top and press into the caramel gently. Cut into 1-inch pieces, then wrap each piece in a 4-inch square of wax paper, twisting 2 ends to close. Or you can get candy wrappers from a craft store or specialty foods store and make it pretty.

These make wonderful Valentine's gifts, Birthday gifts, Christmas gifts...or you could just eat them all yourself. I won't judge.

Memory, seduction, figs and sausages

The sense of taste is apparently the second strongest sense, right behind smell. For me, taste is stronger than any other sense. I bite into something and immediately remember. The taste transports me to a place, time, being with a person, anything and it is so vivid it's like I've just stepped out of a time machine. Until now, I've only experienced this with food that other people have made prior to my attempts, like Grandma. When I recreate one of her recipes, and I succeed, I feel like I'm standing in the kitchen with her, watching her and learning.

I sat down to a birthday celebration dinner this past weekend. We laughed, we shared memories, we had a great time. But part of our hors d'oeurves was a left-over from a previous meal Lauryn made. I had made this same dish once before. The part she served was a fig sauce made with cloves, red wine vinegar and a bit of lemon amongst other ingredients. This is to be served with sausage and over rice. I bit into a fig and just stopped dead, remembering the night I served this. There's a reason dates revolve around food. It's a shared joy and pleasure that is both vital and seductive.

But these figs. Goodness. It was like an absolute emotional maelstrom whizzed through me while i was trying to decipher the textures and flavors. The plump, chewy figs with the ever so delicate crunch of the seeds followed by a zing of acidity from the red wine vinegar, then the warm spice from cloves, nutmeg and cinnamon. This is such a complex flavor personality that it makes you stop and think about it. The sweet, the savory, the tart, the seductive flavors. There's no wolfing down of this dish. It's meant to be savored and studied. It's the type of sensual explosion that requires giving yourself over to every single sensation. Truly an amazing dish and worth every minute of prep time. Since you take the time to savor each bite, you pay a different kind of attention to your surroundings. As a result, when these same sensations are triggered, it all comes flooding back.

You know those movie montages that are snap shots like seeing life flash before your eyes? I had that.

The recipe comes from "Intercourses," by Martha Hopkins and Randall Lockridge, which is a cookbook filled with a delicious how-to instructional of seduction via food. But keep in mind, the sauce must be made a day ahead. Prepare accordingly. And remember, this isn't to inconvenience you. It's to get your imagination going. Anticipation is one of the greatest factors of food and romance.

For the fig sauce:
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/2 stick cinnamon
2 cloves
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 slice lemon
1 pound fresh or canned figs, drained

For the fig sauce, combine the sugar, vinegar, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and lemon in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Add the figs. Cook for 15 minutes, or until the syrup has reduced and thickened slightly. Cool the syrup overnight in the fridge.

For the sausages:
3/4 pound spicy Italian sausage links
2 teaspoons olive oil
3 tablespoons white wine
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

For the sausages, set a large skillet over medium to medium-high heat and add the oil. Add the sausages to the hot oil to brown. (I found it more efficient to slice the sausage into medallions or at least smaller pieces to cook) Pour in the wine, scraping the bottom of the pan to release any browned bits. (Cripsy bits!) Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover and cook until the sausages are cooked through and the wine has evaporated. (If the sausages are starting to burn, add 1/2 to 1 cup of water and cook until all the water has evaporated.) Add the figs and their syrup to warm through. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve the sausages with the whole figs and spoon with the fig syrup.

Try it. The anticipation of making this, the anticipation of the reaction of the person you're feeding it to...just try it. You won't be disappointed. Perfect for Valentine's Day? I think so, yes.

Summer goodness

Today I'm thinking about everything good. I've found many of my old camp friends/counselors and am reminded of how wonderful those summers were and all the new things I experienced. I decided to go to camp at age 7. My brother was going, and dammit, I was going too. (Sassy from the get go). It was a farm camp in southern Vermont that had every critter that should be on a farm and it's own pond and garden and open fields and cabins and a huge gray barn and outhouses! It was magical. It was nothing like anything I had ever done before. I spent six weeks barefoot, unless I was in the barn. My hair was long and wild, my skin sun-kissed and golden. There were many firsts - rode a pony, collected fresh eggs, milked a cow, fed pigs, hiked, camped out, and picked the sweetest, earthiest wild blueberries and raspberries in the world. Holy cow. My senses were on overload and I loved every single seven-year-old second.

Let's discuss the heavenly tastes and smells that came from this summer - fresh milk, fresh eggs, fresh produce, those wild berries, and those horses. Some of these joys have stuck with me and some I will always dream of. 19 years later, I'm still riding horses. I've had my own chunky pony, Schuyler, for 14 years (pictured above) and aside from cooking, he's my greatest love and distraction. Most people find a barn's aroma to be harsh, smelly, and disgusting. I smell home. If a smile and a hug could be a scent, it would be horse fur, hay and well worn leather. Either that or freshly baked bread from Lauryn's kitchen. Or Grandma's peach pie. Or Mom's beef stew. I digress.

I spent every spare moment in that big gray barn, playing in bales of hay, grooming horses, cleaning tack. I was hooked. I'm sure there were others in prior summers, but this summer I was given the task of milking, brushing, feeding and snuggling Butterscotch the cow. 5am, every morning. I was up before the chickens. Let me tell you...nothing is as good as fresh milk. Literally, right from the cow. We hauled the pails into the kitchen and stuck them in the pasteurizer then poured the milk into huge recycled industrial mayo jars. (Anyone remember poor Bob and the Sysco truck we chalked?!) Fresh milk (non-homogenized) does this miraculous thing that grocery stores never share with us. The cream rises to the top when it's left in the fridge undisturbed. Thick, delicious, heavenly nectar of the cow gods. I dream of this natural wonder. I didn't drink coffee then, so I would scoop some of this out and put it in hot chocolate in those funny little blue enameled metal camp mugs.

Fantastic things happened when I was up that early - I sat in the kitchen with the cool counselors, smelled breakfast being prepared, scooped out fresh cream, fed all the critters and was the first camper to run through the dew-soaked grass every morning. Sometimes I even got to ring the wake-up bell and deafen myself at the same time. Awesome. Once breakfast was had, we did our chores (first time I scrubbed a bathroom, too) and had our first round of activities. So much to do!!! Tie-dye, pottery, riding, gardening, nature hikes, drawing, oh my goodness. Lunch. Afternoon activities ensued. Then dinner was either had at the brightly painted picnic tables under the shade of the huge pine tree or inside the main room if it was rainy, or up at the lean-to's which then led to back massage circles, singing, s'mores making, and trying to find the beaver family that lived in the dam up there. Only one unfortunate experience - Shadow, a gorgeous German Shepard and one of the camp staples, went swimming and decided my sleeping bag was the place to be. Soaking wet dog and soggy sleeping bag equaled a very cold and shivery me. Margaret came to the rescue and gave me her sleeping bag. C.I.T. (counselor in training) Chicken night was the only meat-eating night, every Friday. Not gourmet by any means, but there was something so satisfying about biting into a charred, kinda burnt, bbq sauce slathered chicken leg.

One of my activities was to hang out in the garden, weeding and thinning, raking, etc. I was dubbed Queen of the Garden and I believe there was a song that went with it. This particular day, Jim was in charge of the activity. We picked fresh rhubarb and various other sun-ripened delectables. He said he had a surprise project for us. We brought our baskets and buckets of summer abundance to the kitchen and we made a strawberry rhubarb crumble pie thing that we all promised to keep secret. Sugar and sweets were not part of our menu at camp. I was never upset about this because I got to taste the real sweetness of things - berries, peaches, tomatoes, corn. There were maybe 8 kids involved with this project. That night, after all had gone to bed, Jim woke the 8 of us up, giant tray o' pie in hand, and took us to Nina's back porch to devour the fruits of our labor. He said "this tastes so good because we made the effort." He was right. Nothing beats the satisfaction of succeeding at something - everything that comes out of my kitchen tastes better than any store bought anything because I made the effort and created culinary beauty out of raw ingredients. Lots of lessons about doing things for yourself rather than solely depending on others came from camp. And it all made sense, somehow.

I could easily go on for days about these summers. Such vivid memories of happiness, freedom, and laughter. I wish I could go back.

$17 worth of crab meat...awwww yeah...

Firstly, before I dive into this recipe with absolute gusto, I'd like to have a moment of silence for Lauryn's favorite bamboo spoon. Apparently the spoon didn't respect the burner's personal space, and alas...it has gone to meet the choir invisible.

I would also like to take this moment to remind you to talk to your cooking utensils and sous chefs about personal space so sad, unnecessary accidents like this don't happen. Perhaps this is a reasonable time to suggest that favorite utensils be purchased in pairs so you'll always have a spare.

On to the crab cakes! (Note the pile of crispy bits on the plates in the picture...I was feeling generous enough to share those)

I had left over lump crab meat, I had panko bread crumbs, I had mustard and mayo in the fridge, and now I have a stuffed tummy and a big smile on my face. The first round of crab meat went towards a delicious crab/sherry/cream sauce that my Mom made. Wow. I really, seriously, wanted to lick the plate after that. Okay. I did lick the plate. Then I cleaned up the mess I made from when I decided that I would make fettucine from scratch because we only had elbows and that just.wouldn't.work. I need to work on my pasta making skills. Now I'm getting distracted. Crab cakes! I knew I wanted to make something with the extra crab, not wanting to let anything so fabulous go to waste. I dug up a crab cake recipe that looked like I had at least some of the ingredients. I tweaked the recipe I found because I had half the meat necessary and not all the ingredients in my pantry. It worked despite the absentees! Also, the original recipe had about 5 hours of waiting time while things were in the fridge and the freezer, and crap on that! I was hungry! This would make a great remix of the leftovers from, perhaps, a crab boil? (If you know of any, invite me. I'll make your leftovers forget their names)

8 oz. lump crab meat
1 1/2 cups panko breadcrumbs
1/4 cup red bell pepper, minced very small
1 egg yolk
1 Tbsp. stoneground mustard
2 heaping Tbsp. mayonnaise
fresh lemon juice to taste

Toast the bread crumbs in the oven at 350 until golden brown. Soften the red pepper in a skillet. In the meantime, whisk egg yolk, mayo, mustard and lemon juice. Cool the peppers, cool the bread crumbs. Mix together mayo mixture, crab, a good handful of bread crumbs, and peppers. Stick 'em in the freezer for 15 minutes or so. Start thinking about your side dish - I decided on broiled asparagus with a little olive oil, salt and pepper. Pull the meat out of the freezer and form into patties - they will not hold together very well, so be careful. Roll in the left over bread crumbs. Prep another skillet with melted butter (or olive oil if you're trying to be healthier). Gingerly place the crab cakes in the pan and brown on medium-high heat. Try the two spatula method to flip these puppies over - scootching a cake onto one spatula with another. Once they are browned on both sides, serve 'em up!

I recommend this sauce for them:
heaping spoonful of mayo
half that amount of mustard
fresh lemon juice

Mix and slather.

The first bite tells you everything you'll ever need to know about your cooking skills. The intonation of the "mmm" gives everything away. Remember that for when you're a dinner guest. People who spend time making a meal pay attention to the sounds of the guests and your response could either make a new best friend (who can cook! Sweet!) or a brand new enemy. Be careful. I received an "mmm" that was deep, hearty and translated to "this is better than breathing air." Epic win!

Parmesan Crusted Chicken

A request came by asking if I would discuss this. Yes. Although discussion may be muffled by sounds of chewing and "mmm" and "wow...that's good." This is one of my favorite recipes and really very simple. It jazzes up chicken in a way that only the Italian cheese makers/magicians could do. This recipe is perfect for those of you who are bored with the same old chicken recipes. You just cannot go wrong with the nutty, earthy flavor of Parmesan. And when you get a good piece on your antipasto platter? Heaven on earth. This is an ideal quick-fix for single persons, a make-it-seem-like-you-worked-all-day date night meal, or something to0 keep your family in line. If you're like me and keep a brick of Parmesan in the fridge and chicken in the freezer, then you are all set.

I've whipped up this recipe in a couple different ways and each way is fabulous. Sometimes I follow the recipe exactly and dredge in breadcrumbs, sometimes just the cheese. Mind you, this is the only dish I nearly set my kitchen on fire with. Keep an eye on it - it can get away from you if you stop paying attention. I blame my distraction on Obama's State of the Union address.

I always add the lemon juice because I love citrus as a layer of flavor. Citrus is like instant summertime and always perks up a meal. I've used chicken breasts, tenders, and thighs, all of which do well. I recommend the thighs be boneless, just for ease of cooking. Also, if I'm in an especially Jersey Italian kinda mood, I'll pound out the chicken and make it so wonderfully thin. I grew up in NJ with an Italian side of the family and full-thickness chicken just wasn't an option when breading it. Now that I'm thinking back, I bet this would make a killer chicken parm sandwich...if only I could get those proper, sturdy hard rolls with the awesome crust that gets crumbs everywhere...mmm. Now those are good.

By far, the best part of this meal are the little crispy bits left in the pan after the chicken is cooked. Don't throw those away. Please. The thought of that makes me sad. If you want to make quinoa or rice to go with this, cook the grains as directed on the box and then toss in the pan after the chicken's out. Or just eat the crispy bits once they've cooled. You've done the work to make this meal and deserve the crispy bits!

Here's the recipe as I found it and initially followed it (and fed to my friends, who all really liked it, so I know it's good). I'll make notes of variations and some hints below:

6 boneless skinless chicken breast halves
5 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 eggs
1 1/4 cups dry breadcrumbs
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
2 teaspoons grated lemon peel
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter
Lemon wedges to serve

Between sheets of wax paper, pound chicken with either a rolling pin or a meat tenderizer mallet (not the pointy side! Use the flat side!) This is great if you've had a stressful day. Just make sure to move all fragile things out of the way. Let the meat rest in a baking dish with 4 tablespoons of lemon juice. Prepare the dredging assembly line - one bowl with beaten eggs and lemon juice and another bowl with the Parmesan, breadcrumbs and lemon peel. Heat up a skillet with a couple tablespoons of butter. Place some of the coated chicken into the skillet and let brown to crispy, cheesy delight! Don't crowd the pan! (As mentioned above, save those crispy bits for either a snack or to mix with side dish grains) Cook the chicken thoroughly and until they are golden on both sides - probably 2 minutes. Since you pounded the chicken into submission, a thinner piece means faster cooking time! Have a plate ready with a piece of foil to keep the first batch warm while cooking the second batch. Serve with lemon wedges. Ta da!

Hints, Tips, Variations:

- Leave out the breadcrumbs if you're watching your carb intake.

- Use tenders for extraordinary chicken fingers - you won't need to pound these out, but keep an eye on them. Since they're thicker, it's a fine line between browning and burning the cheese while waiting for the chicken to cook.

- If you're making tenders, use a marinara for a dipping sauce.

- When buying Parmesan, make sure there are lots of spots. The cheese should be a gorgeous aged yellow with whitish spots. These spots equal serious deliciousness.

- If you get a huge block, cut it in half and freeze part of it. That way you'll always have fresh Parmesan on hand! In some places it may also be cheaper to buy larger. It's also cheaper to buy it solid and grate it than to buy it pre-grated. But use your own judgment - sometimes that time is better spent on other projects.

- Crispy bits! Just eat them.

- Keep an eye on it. Don't burn your kitchen down.

Recipe Request!

Send recipes you'd like me to try! (I especially love family standards - the things that make you all warm and fuzzy inside) Send suggestions for restaurants/products/snacks/tools! Ask me questions! As much as I'd like this to all revolve around me, I'm also a generous sort and will play nicely with others if necessary.

redbunnygirl@gmail.com

Ice cream adventures

In a fit of madness caused by crazy horse trainers and ridiculous census people, I decided I should cook something. I thumbed through my brand new cookbook "Dessert Fourplay" by award winning pastry chef Johnny Iuzzini. This book is my current obsession. I've read it cover to cover five times already and run my fingers over the pictures in hopes of somehow gathering the flavor through osmosis. So far I have to put my vivid imagination to use - no flavor-vision, no scratch and sniff, and these pages certainly aren't Wonka's lickable wallpaper. Sadly.


Last night's adventure was Cream Cheese Ice Cream. Iuzzini puts this in the "basics" section as one of the building blocks for his labor intensive feats of deliciousness. Yum. Seriously good stuff. It's not sweet, so don't expect a frozen cheesecake. But it makes a phenomenal base for any kind of sauce/topping you can imagine. I decided on raspberry sauce. I can't wait to try other flavors. In the meantime, both of these are so good, you put a spoon in your mouth and just pause. Wolfing is not an option. It is almost necessary to savor every little zip on the palate. The ice cream is a divine, velvety, sassy flavor. It's a grown up version of plain old vanilla and I highly recommend it in place of vanilla. It has the ability to break through all things coyingly sweet (and equally delicious) such as pecan pie.


And then there's the raspberry sauce. Like a spoonful of summer. You can almost hear the giggles of children at summer camp with this sauce. It's the kind of stuff that once made, you want to dig through your pantry to find anything to put this on. Save yourself the calories - just use the spoon. Some may remember my college days where almost everything I ate was a vehicle for raspberry jam. This has the same power. If I had known about the magic of this sauce, I would have carried a flask of it everywhere. Now I just have a squeeze bottle in my fridge and a large spoon nearby.


Cream Cheese Ice Cream:

1 1/4 c. whole milk
1/2 c. non-fat powdered milk (absorbs moisture and keep crystallization to a minimum)
1/2 c. sugar
2 tbs. light corn syrup
16 oz. cream cheese (don't skimp. Use the full fat version)
Juice of 1 lemon


Prep an ice bath in a large bowl, cut cream cheese into pieces and place in a medium bowl. Put the first four ingredients into a saucepan and bring to a boil while whisking. Watch it so it doesn't burn. Pour over cream cheese and blend with an immersion blender. I'm sure you could use a food processor if you don't have an immersion blender. Add lemon juice and blend again. Run it through a fine mesh sieve into another medium bowl and place this into the ice bath. Stir frequently and let it chill thoroughly. Pull out your ice cream maker and freeze. Since the base is chilled, it shouldn't take too long to freeze. Pack into a container and freeze for at least 2 hours before serving.



Raspberry Sauce:

12 oz. raspberries (fresh, frozen, whatever)
1/2 c. water
8 oz. raspberry jam (thickening agent)
sugar to taste if you want - the sweeter the berries, the less sugar you'll need!


Put the berries, water and sugar (if desired) into a saucepan and bring to just a boil, then simmer for 15 minutes until it thickens a bit. Again, with the immersion blender, or food processor, mix berries and jam until smooth. Stick in the fridge and cool before using. It will thicken more as it cools.


Scoop ice cream, pour sauce over, enjoy every single second. Truly tasty stuff.

Welcome to the Red Bunny Kitchen!

In the beginning, there was a kitchen. A small, utilitarian kitchen with basic appliances and ugly tile counters. But this is my kitchen and I have filled it with love, pasta, and heaps of cookies. And many, many seemingly useless devices that only someone culinarily-inclined would ever know what to do with. With these utensils and perhaps a slightly masochistic desire, my culinary adventures have reached beyond simple (but delightfully delicious) chocolate chip cookies to mastering the recipes my Grandma made simply by memory. (She rarely wrote anything down, and if she did, I'm not sure it was entirely correct) However, this is not enough. I pick up cookbooks written by master chefs and think "hey, I could do that! Now where do I find xanthan gum and methyl cellulose?"




This is my excitement, my passion, and my release for all things stressful. Through the magic of the interwebs, I bring to you all the tasty treasures I've discovered so your life may be enriched as mine has. Nothing beats the smile of someone eating something delectable from your kitchen. Nothing beats the moment of realizing "that's good."