Sometimes there’s an exception … Good Stuff Chicken Salad

I love a good sandwich.  A really good sandwich filled with delicious things on great bread.  My all time favorite is an Italian type sub from a deli.  You know the one – crusty bread, lots of Italian cold cuts like coppa and genoa salami, provolone, a healthy shot of hot peppers and a zing of oil/vinegar.  Oh heaven almighty in a paper wrapper!  But that’s not what this post is about.  This post is about gross mayonnaise-y salads and my general dislike for them.  Yum, huh?

Surprise gifts … a.k.a cleaning out the freezer

Baking often has some unintended side effects besides a big fat butt, though that’s certainly the #1 occupational hazard.  It’s the leftovers.  Oh the leftovers.  In restaurants, this is rarely a problem because you can always find a use for the extras, be it a component in another dessert, a mignardise or a garnish.  At worst you can feed the staff but at home, they tend to collect on the counter and in the freezer.  Who has that kind of space?

Knead some dough? Multigrain Bread

For me, the cooling temperatures this time of year bring out an irresistible urge to hunker down and bake bread.  In particular, earthy seedy whole grain breads.  Something tasty, and toasty; slathered with the farm fresh butter I scored at the green market and probably one of the 72 kinds of jam I’ve socked away.  I’ve sort of convinced myself that since I’m not working out as much, I should eat more whole grains and the effects will offset each other.  Perfectly logical, don’t you think?

Spicy pickled vegetables? Yes please! Cucumber Kimchi

The first time I tasted kimchi, that infamous spicy fermented pickled Korean condiment, I was in my early twenties and rather clueless about the whole thing.  In theory, I knew what kimchi was but as a Chicago born-Arizona bred-Polish girl, we hadn’t yet crossed paths.  An acquaintance had a highly coveted homemade jar of the stuff, scored from a distant Korean relative.  It had been buried – yes, buried – in a backyard for 6 months and was such a special treat he said, though I was skeptical.  As he opened the jar, I was hit with a thick cloud of … funk.  There is no other way to describe what assaulted my senses.  I involuntarily cringed as a forkful came my way – and believe me when I say that I, the brave eater, was a bit frightened.  I took a tentative bite and was completely off put.  The texture was mushy yet squeaky, the flavor unbelievably spicy and downright funky.  I didn’t particularly care for it in the least bit.

A day at the farm … Harvest Party at Seedling Orchard

Fall.  Autumn.  Whatever it’s called, it’s my favorite time of year.  Growing up in Arizona, we didn’t have much of a fall season.  In fact, I think Arizona has only two seasons that don’t necessarily correspond with the traditional winter, spring, summer, fall. (Side note:  how do you not sing James Taylor right there?)  In Phoenix it’s simply  hot and hotter so when I moved to the Midwest, this seasonal thing was a bit of an adjustment.  Seasons?  Winter??  What the hell?  I was never dressed correctly; either too hot or too cold.  Never had my umbrella at the right time, or the correct footwear.  To my chagrin, I started paying attention to the weather report daily, something I hadn’t done in all my 22 years.  But I adjusted.  Eventually.  Now I look forward to Indian Summers, the tree outside my living room window turning a gorgeous shade of yellow and college football tailgates wearing something other than shorts and a tank top (though daytime football is still very strange to me.)

Who hates squash? Not me. Squash and Onion Tart

Squash.  It’s one of those things I didn’t eat much when I was a kid.  The thing is, my mother hates squash. It wasn’t until years later that I realized I had no idea what squash tasted like because I had never had it.  Or eggplant for that matter.  Isn’t it funny how your grown-up tastes are impacted by experiences from your youth?  And how much of that is influenced by what those around you ate?  Luckily, I come from a long line of good eaters.  Adventurous eaters.  We’ll try anything once.  Squash just never entered into the equation because someone did the homework for me.  A-hem.

Lattice love … tips on weaving a lattice pie crust

I love a good lattice crust.  It’s one of those things that impresses the hell out of people and is so damn satisfying when you get it right.  Sure, anyone can throw some streusel on a pile of fruit or even lay a flat sheet of dough on for a top crust but a perfectly woven lattice is a sight to behold.  “Oooooh!  You MADE that?”  Hell yeah I did.  Once you get the hang of it, it’s not that hard really.  If you ever made those little potholders as a kid on the loom with the nylon circle doo-dads, you can do this.

My heart in a lattice crust … Classic Apple Pie

Baking to me, and I suspect to a lot of people, is a very personal endeavor.  As much as I hate to admit it, I’m putting my heart on a plate more often than not.  In a restaurant, when that dessert comes back to the kitchen barely touched it’s hard not to feel judged, even if dessert may be course 8 or 9.  They may be full but you still wonder.  Couldn’t you find a little room?  Squeeze it in?  With family and friends, it can be much more personal.  Look what I made for you!  Like me!  Love me!  The majority of the time, I’m pretty blasé about it all but once in a while, when I really pull out the stops to make something special, it can be especially gut wrenching.  To have something like that criticized, well, it’s tough to take.

Tastes of a warm holiday … Ratatouille

OK, this time it was several bags of peppers, tomatoes, white eggplant and zucchini from the farmers at the market stands around me.  Lugging it all to my car, all I could think about was ratatouille.  Whoo whee ratatouille!  Hot sun, mistral winds, icy cold glasses of rosé, a half eaten bowl of spiced olives and the air scented with lavender.  Except I’m not in Provence.  I’m in Chicago and it’s cold and rainy.  Well, a girl can dream can’t she?

Stretching out the season … Smart Peach Crostada

When something is so good, so wonderful, don’t you just want to stretch it out?  Make it last forever?  I feel that way sometimes about fruit, of all things.  I mean, I know I sort of harp on this but there’s a reason these things taste really good only a few months out of the year and are overpriced and disappointing the rest.  But let’s be honest … citrus gets a little tired in the middle of winter and we just want some hint, a little promise that something brighter is on it’s way.