Basics. (part 2) Mustard

As far as sauces go, there are few instances I can recall when I would pass up a good mustard. Eggs? Sure. Dogs? Definitely. Chicken? Beef? Pork? Seafood? Vegetables? You bet. On a cracker, or on some bread? Why not. Right off a spoon? Now you're talkin'!

Not only does mustard, especially the whole-grain variety (save the bright yellow for Wawa pretzels on the go), twist up flavors to give some sour and smoky tones, I've used it as an ingredient in other sauces. As a stand-alone or as an aid, mustard is one of my palate's favorite treats.

Never mind, the fact that most days I have no less than 4 or 5 different varieties of mustard in my fridge.  Except, when I opened the fridge and discovered this past weekend, that I was down to just one measly bottle of the the sunny yellow variety. *Sigh* And to think I was going to gobble up some mustard like it was yogurt. *Sigh, oh double triple sigh*

If you've ever looked at the ingredient list on any whole-grain mustard, you'll find that it's so basic it's criminal. I'm sure most of the time when I'm paying for mustard, I am paying mostly for the jar and the labor, in that order. The ingredients list is so consistently short, with 2 basic ingredients that just about every mustard has. I tried it for the first time this afternoon, amidst the hustle and bustle of getting our house ready for the holidays next week.

This first experiment, I'm using the mustard seeds whole (not ground), and I'm going to let the liquid break down the seeds a bit for me. I added some fennel and cumin seeds, a touch of salt, and I'm planning to add a touch of agave tomorrow evening to help temper the spiciness. We'll see how it goes.

Basic Mustard
Mustard seeds (use a combination of brown and yellow)
Vinegar (try any variety of vinegar, wine, or beer)

1. Place mustard seeds in a sterilized jar.
2. Cover with vinegar until just to the top of the seeds.
3. About an hour later, check on the mustard seeds. If it needs more vinegar to keep the seeds covered, add more vinegar.
4. Let steep overnight.
5. Enjoy.

If you like it spicy, keep the jar cool and use cool liquid. If you'd like it milder, heat up the mixture on the stove first to help soften the flavor in the seeds, let cool, and the jar and fridge. From this basic recipe, the sky's the limit on variations of additives: dried fruit, fruit rind, wines, different types of sweeteners, herbs, other spices, peppercorns, the list goes on. And for smoother texture, just grind the seeds with a mortar and pestle before mixing with the acid.

Basics. (part 1) 2-2-1 Hollandaise

Sometimes, it takes that physical trip away from familiarity, to bring the pendulum back to center. And the exposure to the big and the small, the broad and the narrow, the full spectrum and the minutiae - traversed in steps across the familiar but in new shoes - I'm still reflecting. But one thing I know:

There are no accidents.

Take our walk in Armstrong Redwoods SNR the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. I didn't realize that I dropped my driver's license out of my pocket near the top of the East Ridge Trail, while Theo and I were walking our little pace, to get my phone to text our friends ahead of us that we were not far behind them, and that we were hooking right at the fork in the trail. Then somewhere along the Armstrong Nature Trail at the bottom of the hill some 1.5+ miles later, on our way back to the visitors' center and parking lot, a guy comes walking towards me and hands me my license.

What are the chances?

Like it should be any surprise that this forest would be where human support of one another should take place, where I should find a recentering. It was a striking moment, when we were surrounded by giants and wisdom older than all our collective ages combined, and I felt the sudden jarring of the closing of one of my life circles. One path ended, and my life took a turn in the fork of the life road. I'm not sure where the road will take me, but I have faith and will blindly follow.

So as my life pendulum starts swinging again, I tip my hat to the circles that make up my life and go back to some basics that bring a bit of heaven to the kitchen every day. The morning before we left for California, I made some poached eggs for the family and had a hunkering for hollandaise. Not difficult, not terribly time-consuming, and it does give just about any base flavor a little kick and swagger. Use the basic proportions, and increase or decrease accordingly. And of recent, I lopped some on asparagus. Perfectly yum.

(the poached eggs, I used one of those poached egg pans, steamed in a larger pot. works perfectly each time. some things, I'm eternally grateful for design and technology to come together and make a process that much easier.)

2-2-1 Hollandaise
(covers 3 eggs, a grabful of asparagus, or 4 large potatoes served any which way)

Ingredients
2 egg yolks (I use my hands to get the yolk)
2 oz butter, cut into small pieces
1T whole milk, cream, or half and half
Squeeze of 1/2 lemon
A hint of spice (I used Indian chili powder)
A pinch of salt (use Kosher. less needed than granulated)

Tools
Double boiler (or just have a metal bowl on top of a deeper pot, with just enough water in the pot to create steam for the process without letting the water touch the bottom of the bowl)
Whisk
Water for steaming

1. Place pot with water on the stovetop. Cover the top with your metal bowl, with egg yolks and butter inside. Turn up the heat on the water - you want the water to be gently simmering by the end of the process, not boiling. Boiling the water gives you too much of a risk of scrambling the eggs, separating the butter, and having to start all over again.
2. As soon as the butter begins to melt, start whisking to mix together the egg yolks and butter. Whisk until smooth. Don't worry if it looks like it's curdling. Turn down the heat, and just keep whisking
3. Add milk, and whisk until smooth.
4. Take mixture off the heat, and add the remaining ingredients to taste.
5. Dollop a spoonful on eggs/asparagus/bread/potatoes/fish/just about anything with a non-acidic taste. (or do like I almost did that morning, and enjoy it with just a spoon) The sauce also gets a boost of freshness by adding fresh green herbs. I tried scallions tonight, and it was heavenly.

Little pockets of joy

(oops - this scone collapsed because I cut it too tall!)

Scones.

Does this word elicit fear and dread, of bricks turned as heavy and dense as building material? Ever think that scones can't march past the borders of sweet dried fruits, or that they are simply fruitcakes with a different color? Do you find that eating a scone usually means you ingest about a stick of butter, or a jar of clotted cream, to coat each bite just to give it some flavor?

Then come with me on a little journey, to some textural and palate-ial satisfaction. This morning, a bake sale to accompany the magic show taking place at the kids' preschool called on me to put on the baker's hat. I sent in some savory scones to stand alongside the sweet bites on the table, and they did not disappoint.  As my friend Jess would attest, the recipe for scones that we both follow (from Cook's Illustrated "Best Recipes" cookbook) can be completed from beginning to end within about 30 minutes. The recipe has become one of my standbys for a quick delicious treat, and I do make it often, both savory and sweet.

Make sure to have your ingredients lined up - and before you know it, you'll be churning out delicious scones with ease and flare, adding your own ideas for flavorants, and your house will smell delectable. And - they won't be bricks.

Keep in mind the following tips as you make scones, as the process is combination of those for making cakes and making pie crusts:

1. Like cake mixing, mix the dry ingredients first, followed by addition of the fat and wet ingredients. I usually keep a recipe's worth of a batch in the pantry on hand to cut down some of the production time and to make scones on a moment's (or the kids' or Hubby's, whichever comes first) whim.
2. A food processor is particularly helpful, to both ease the mixing process and to help distribute the butter through the flour evenly (this is also the method I use for making pie crust). Pulse the mix/food process setting on the food processor, so that you don't overheat the mixing and run the risk of melting the butter.
3. Mix the ingredients the way you would to make a flaky pie crust: coat small butter particles with flour, and don't overmix. Keep the ingredients cold, particularly the butter and the cream, so that you don't make a homogenous block that turns into a brick. If you start melting a good deal of the butter by overmixing the ingredients in the food processor, you'll end up releasing the water in the butter. Water will bind to the flour, and you'll end up with a greasy, dense, heavy mess that will not hold together and will not yield light, fluffy scones. The key here is to keep the butter particles intact, and not let them melt, so that they will do the melting in the oven where they will create little pockets in your scones - and yield light flakiness.
4. If you're making the scones on a countertop, a bench scraper will be invaluable to not only clean up your counter surface, but it will help you scrape together last scone bits left from the cutting process to make just one more scone at the end of the cutting process (so that your warm hands don't end up melting the worked-over dough into a dense brick).

So keep some space in the refrigerator, grab a food processor, and get ready to enjoy some most excellent scones (and wonderful aroma throughout the the house).


Cream Scones
Ingredients:
2c flour
1T baking powder
3T sugar
1/2t salt

5T butter, cut into pea-sized pieces
1c heavy cream

Flavorants used in this morning's first (!) batch (we came home and made another batch, with parmesan, mozzarella, chives, and ham)
1c total cheddar and monterey jack cheese
3T fresh chives, finely chopped

Baking sheet
Parchment paper
1.5" to 3" biscuit cutter

Method:
1. Preheat oven to 430. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. Mix together in the food processor the dry ingredients.
3. Place flavorants in a large bowl. Keep in the fridge if you'd like.
4. Dot the butter on top of the dry ingredients. Pulse about 5 times, 2-3 seconds per pulse, until the mixture resembles cornmeal.
5. Add the heavy cream to the food processor. Mix until just combined. The dough will be sticky.
6. Add the dough to flavorants bowl, and mix well as best you can with a spatula. If the fixture is too heavy to mix with a spatula, mix by hand to finish the mixing process, folding the dough on itself about 4-5 times to help build layers and to make sure the flavorants are well mixed into the dough.
7. Press dough into a round 1" thick if you're making small scones (about 1.5"-2" diameter), or about 1.5" thick if you're making big scones (about 2"-3" diameter) or leaving as wedges cut from the dough round. Scrape up the round onto parchment paper, wrap. Let rest in the fridge about 10 minutes.
6. Bring out the chilled dough round, and use the biscuit cutter to cut round scones. Set 1.5" apart on the baking sheet. (Alternatively, leave the dough round, and score wedges from the round).
7. Bake immediately in the preheated oven, about 10 minutes for small scones, 12 minutes for large scones, or 15 minutes for the large dough round of wedges, until browned on top.
8. Once baking is done, let scones cool about 10-15 minutes on the tray before eating.

I've read that you can make this recipe ahead of time, even up to the point where you are letting the dough round chill in the fridge, and let it rest overnight for fast processing in the morning in time for breakfast. I've not yet done this, as this recipe is fast enough to be able to let us have scones *almost* immediately in the morning - but I do plan to try it sometime to see if the baking powder decreases in its ability to let these scones rise.

Fresh chives (or herbs) yield even better flavor than dry (and the house smelled amazing with the chives baking in the oven), but any herb, dry or fresh, would be a great ingredient to savory scones.

The Flavorcentric Menu

So after my 4:30 in the morning revelation late this week of executing my theory to the (small) masses, I devised the menu for our Saturday evening's experimental dinner:

Exposition: Salt/pepper crackers with three cheeses, sweet cucumbers, and (surprise guest!) pork/chicken pate. Pairing: berry infused vodka martini.

Rise: Fried green tomatoes and eggplant, with blueberry aioli. Pairing: Sauvigion Blanc.

Climax: Roasted pork with coffee marinade, alongside (originally) tomato pasta (which became) red wine pasta with sage/lemongrass foam. Pairing: Schioppettino / Tempranillo.

Fall: Caesar salad with charcuterie. Pairing: Tempranillo.

Denouement: Duo of sweets (black forest cake and sweet potato cheesecake). Pairing: coffee, Puerto Rican rum .

There were several courses, which cumulatively added up to quite a bit of quantity. However, each course individually was not overly quantitative - but instead strove to hit all the parts of the range of flavors. Of particular note...

...Andrew (gracious thanks, as always!!) for all his help in the kitchen. I would probably have stopped at course 2 if not for his help. And Hubby, for helping to put together our vodka drink starter of the evening. Mmmm...

...the wines. And - of particular note - I can't say too much about the Sauvignon Blanc, as I understand that one can not purchase it in the States, but - the SB this evening was lovely. Smelled like lychee at the nose, lightly sweet and a touch of grass on the palate.

...home made crackers. Eeeeeeeeasy! And fun! But - definitely time consuming to roll out all the dough, cut, and lay on the stone. Imagine making 12 pizzas a night.

...the pork in the coffee marinade came out pretty well, with the exception being that there was not enough capascum hit to the palate (which we covered with having the chili powder at the table for service);

...the blueberry aioli which this morning I thought was as solid as cured concrete, but which I discovered yielded quite well and had good texture with application of the immersion blender;

...and the sweets, which was my first experiment in working with chocolate, but yielded a major FAIL in experimenting with a combination of cherry juice+sodium alginate+sodium citrate+sugar in calcium lactate solution. Another time, perhaps more sodium citrate and a little less acid.

This was not the typical meal I would serve to all guests - it was an experiment. I came out of the meal quite full - but I can gladly say that just about all our dishes were empty, and we have no leftovers. Maybe it was just the right quantity to match the number of mouths at the table.

A little peek into the recipes...


Coffee Marinade
- 1c ground coffee
- 1/2c soy sauce
- 1/2c sweet liquor (I used whiskey)
- 1/2c olive oil
- 1T (or more) ground garlic
- 2t (or more) ground ginger
- 2t salt
- 2t ground black pepper
- 2T sugar
- 2t ground chili pepper
- 2t ground coriander

Mix all in a bag, and marinate meat 24 hours minimum in advance of roasting. Roasting - roast at 350 for 45 minutes for a C.T. butt, then at 250 for 45 minutes. Cover with foil to rest at minimum 5-10 minutes prior to serving.


Blueberry Aioli
- 4 egg yolks
- 1/2c olive oil
- Juice of 1/2 lemon
- 1/4c - 1/2c fresh blueberries
- 1-2 cloves garlic, minced (adjust to taste)
- Salt to taste

Blend all in a mini food processor until smooth. Refrigerate immediately, and use an immersion blender just prior to serving to aerate sauce. I served this with the fried green tomatoes (I've posted my recipe on this prior - slice thin, salt overnight, flour/egg/panko, fry) and fried eggplants (same execution). This was a winner.


Now, having been busy during the course of dinner to take photos (DOH!), I have to say that my experiment with dessert was a)fun; b)tasty; and c)visually attractive. Isn't this combination what it's all about, no matter what we're doing?!

For the duo of sweets... Let's back up 2 days prior. I melted dark chocolate and discovered that an offset spatula and parchment paper work just fine to create a thin layer of chocolate to make chocolate bands (to surround cake). I then sprinkled the chocolate with kosher salt and refrigerated it in the fridge about 5 minutes to set. I pulled out my metal straightedge, and cut equal widths in the chocolate. I then quickly wrapped each chocolate strip around a round cookie cutter, and taped the parchment onto itself. All these rounded strips, then went back into the fridge overnight. The parchment pealed off each ring without sticking at all, and I had these great little chocolate band rings, in which I set chocolate cake and cherry juice for a modified black forest cake. Originally, the cherry juice was to have been cherry caviar - so that each round would look like salmon roe sushi. Alas...I will keep trying and playing with the pH.

I then melted more chocolate, did the same thin-layer thing on parchment, fridged it for 5 minutes, but this time I took the same round cookie cutter and used it to "score" the chocolate with equally-sized rounds. On each round, I dropped some puffed rice, for textural difference, and I sprinkled on some truffle salt (!) for umami contrast. Fridged this stamped chocolate overnight, and the next day the chocolate broke into perfect pieces to leave the rounds intact. On each chocolate plate, I served a same-sized cut of sweet potato cheesecake. I think the flavor came together pretty well.

Now imagine both of these served on a white plate. The color was rather nice. Damn, where was my camera when I needed it! Alas...another time...

I have a theory

If, at every instance you put something in your mouth, what you eat covers every flavor in your tongue's spectrum of tastes, the desire for quantity no longer exists.

This theory is beginning to drive the way I eat (and cook) these days. Not all meals, but most of them - and it's making me really think about what I'm putting in my mouth. It's a simple idea.

I forget exactly what it was that I served, but the other day Hubby was, again, my guinea pig for trying out a little food marble I've been tossing around in this cranial cavity of mine. The dinner I served covered the tongue's spectrum of tastes, and it covered the major food types. It left a hungry Hubby full after one serving, not even wanting of dessert. (I had incorporated some sweet flavors in the entree course) And this experiment led me to wonder, whether it is not so much the size of our stomach that drives the desire for food, but more this muscle in our mouth that acts as a direct extension of the human creature's, or any animal's for that matter, innate ability to self regulate.

Could it be that our tongue, this direct - and usually first - connection between our human organism and the foods that fuel it, has a natural map of flavors that would cover all the nutrients our body needs? It is, after all, the only sense that comes into direct physical contact, in most cases, to the actual foods we ingest. If the tongue has this natural map - maybe, then, the tongue is not as much a reactionary organ that sends the message of what it encounters to different synapses in our brain. It may, instead, be the provocateur, fulfilling the body's quota for various nutrients by requesting foods available through nature and mapped into our genes over human history, foods which harbor nutrients necessary for our organism's survival.

(here's another plug to eat foods that haven't been processed - the more processed foods we eat, the more it may modify our - and our offsprings' - genetics to want processed foods)

I'm preparing for a dinner this Saturday - and I'm serving this marble to the masses. For the dinner, I'm coupling the idea of taste spectrum with the layer of texture spectrum. The verdict is still out.

Heat, have you returned to me?

I should have known. Having come from a little island on the equator originally, I would, of course, be where the hot weather would stand, oh so comfortably. As for me - not so much. I may have come from the little hot island of Taiwan, but I spent my formative years in the more temperate summers (and colder winters too) of the mid-Atlantic.

As I'm looking at the forecast, and not seeing relief in the near future (I'm still keeping my fingers crossed for next week), I share a little recipe that I love from my homeland, for just this weather.

Shaved ice, with toppings of your choice

Ingredients:
Ice cubes
Red beans (either dry and cooked, or canned and rinsed)
Coconut jellies
Tapioca pearls
Honey, sugar syrup, or condensed milk
Fresh fruit (I love passion fruit syrup in Taiwan, but it's hard to find here in the States)

1. If you need to cook the dried red beans, do so - and add a healthy helping of sugar to the beans. Let the beans cool before topping onto shaved ice.
2. If you have an ice shaver, use it to shave the ice. Otherwise, a blender or food processor does pretty well as well. Shave as much ice as you'd like to serve.
3. Top shaved ice with all the toppings listed. Serve immediately.

Enjoy as many servings as you'd like, until you cool off. Given our current weather conditions here in DC, I am going to have this shaved ice every meal from now until, oh, autumn.

Camp in all its, ahem, glory

We had the best of intentions. I remembered when I went to camp, often Girl Scout camp, when I was little. And while I wanted to learn how to tie all the knots and learn to survive in the wild like the cool Boy Scouts, I trudged through the be-nice-and-friendly skew of Girl Scout cookie sales, the so-necessary basic skill of plastic bracelet brading (how often I use those skills now!), and the occasional toe's dip in the proverbial learning pool what one should do if one's canoe capsizes - all this torture, albeit, in a relatively calm and easy-going environment. So it was with this enlightened sense of being, that I signed up Baby1 for her first camp experience ever, in the safety of our local Y, walking distance and all.

So as you can imagine my surprise, as when I dropped her off to camp this morning with her little backpack and her packed lunch and snacks, that I was faced not by some quiet little camp of kumbaya's around the campfire but by, I'm sure they were...hyenas. Hyenas, numbering no less than 100 to 150, whose collective voices, surrendered to the molecules of air engulfing all of us bewildered parents, carried all the energy generated by successfully-trained parents who gave their kids the prescribed half-a-day's worth of sleep a night, to store up energy enough to tackle the day. Or, at least, the first 30 minutes of screaming at camp - and I could have sworn I saw sound waves bouncing off the concrete walls of the gymnasium this morning.

I don't think I've ever clung onto Baby1 so tightly, as I did this morning. No, actually, there was one other time: I hung onto her for dear life once when she came back to me, at 2 years of age, after bolting from our car towards a very busy intersection right at 5pm on a Friday, smack in the midst of rush hour and too many people trying to get to too many places 15 minutes ago. I thought I'd lose the race for her with the cars, but, luckily, she heard the panic in my voice over the din of car motors, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and U-turned back to me. But today, watching this clan of hyenas running around, screaming and yelling, I was not ready to let my Baby1 go and tackle the world on her own. Judging from her clinging tightly onto me as her eyes spoke of horror at the visions of hyenas dancing in front of her eyes, she wasn't about ready to jump in either. And imagine my horror, when she headed out with the wrong camp, and I had to go fetch her. From the other end of the building. And the counselors for the camp all along my route didn't ask me who I was, request my ID, or ask me where I was going with said child. Hello, paranoia-induced panic!

But in the end, at the end of the day when I picked her up, she seemed all right (read: intact), no worse for the wear. When Hubby asked me for specific drop-off directions this evening for tomorrow morning, however, this is what I told him:

1. Sign-in for camp takes place outside, so look for the organized line of parents and bewildered children, the characteristics of which flip once entering the building.
2. Sign off on one of the multitude of sheets of paper that supposedly correspond to the individual camps going on for the day, on the table in front of the multitude of camp counselors, each of whom seems to know no more than the person next to him or her as to what in the world is going on. Find the sheet of paper yourself while the counselor is asking you which camp Baby1 is in. You'll find it faster.
3. They will tell you to bring your child inside the building. Don't be fooled by the lack of noise from the outside - concrete walls make for amazing insulation.
4. Head into the building, and head toward the crescendo of screaming hyenas.
5. When you enter the concrete room with the screaming hyenas, find one of the camp counselors, preferably not the one who is trying to operate the computer to provide drum and base louder than the screaming hyenas to the speaker system. They do this in an effort to really rev up the hyenas beyond their already revved-up awake state.
6. Try to yell louder than the hyenas to find out where her specific camp group is located. The counselor will no doubt give you the wrong answer, since they've gone deaf with the screaming hyenas and nothing in their training booklets told them about needing to learn to lip-read. When this fails, try asking one of the hyenas. They should know.
7. Try not to panic as you set Baby1 free into the sea of hyenas. Exit the door with your eardrums somewhat intact, and, again, try not to panic. OR, better yet , as I did this morning, and Hubby has decided to do after hearing my rundown of my morning experience: wait until the camps have all been organized and each are exiting the concrete box, and confirm with the counselor leading the specific group of hyenas out of the concrete box that they're leading a) the right camp; and b) the right kids for the right camp.

I'm trying not to be as embarrassingly protective of my kids as my parents were of me. But it's days like this that I eschew all dignity and protect the hell out of them.

It wasn't that long ago...

...when both Baby1 and Baby2 took to their first bites of food. I should have realized, when I was pregnant, that my eating habits paralleled both palates: with Baby1, I ate everything, and couldn't get enough of fresh fruits and vegetables; and with Baby2, I had this ongoing nausea the first 5 months, that I really didn't want to eat anything at all - and especially not meat. Just the thought of meat would make me sick to my stomach. But then... there was Thanksgiving... and suddenly I couldn't get enough to eat.

So now, here we are, as Baby1 makes her own choices about food (OK, I will try it) and Baby2 ventures into the same (Nah nah nah!!). Both have fallen into the bad bottomless pit of junk food heaven, from wanting only goldfish at each meal to getting on our bar stools to open upper cabinets for granola bars and tortilla chips. But there are moments when both kids really surprise me, by being willing to try new things or showing excitement over healthy options. Like, my vegetarian Baby2, who surprised me by delving into tandoori chicken this evening, eating his sausage tortellini with sauteed kale last night, and loving the peas in his curry butternut squash soup as last night's starter; or Baby1, who gets excited by apricots on the store shelves (so do I!), tries everything we serve her at least just once, and gets excited to see freshly-cut fruit as dessert.

So now, as friends hold new little ones in their arms, I figured I'd repost some oldies but goodies for the newest little palates as they venture into the big huge world of food. Making your own baby food is not difficult, and at least you'd have a fairly good idea as to what exactly goes into baby's food.


A general rule of thumb: whenever you try new foods with baby, try it for 7 days to confirm that there are no allergies to the food.


The three basic processes I used:

STEAMING: Orange vegetables usually are the way to go for first foods for baby. Steam chopped carrots, and let cool. Reserve the steaming water - it holds a lot of nutrients which may have leached out from the steamed carrots. Once both carrots and steaming water have cooled down, puree in a food processor to a fine and even puree. Use this same process for:

Sweet potatoes
Peas (you won't believe how green the pea puree will be against store-bought jars!)
Zucchini, peeled
Beets
Spinach (food process finely first to break up the fibrous stems)

BAKING: any squash under the sun, with the exception of spaghetti squash, which is immensely fibrousy and may be difficult for baby to ingest. Split squash in half, and bake cut-side down in about 1/2" of water, for about 40-60 minutes at 350 degrees. Once squash has cooled, you should be able to easily scoop out the supersoft flesh and serve just as is. You may elect to serve the squash sans water - it's up to you. I've typically found that the baking water just doesn't give much to the puree flavor.

STOCK: make any vegetable or meat stock, but keep the sodium down. Impart more flavor into the stock by adding a variety of vegetables and mushrooms. Do take care, however, to not put in too many vegetables that can cause gas - babies will protest. Avoid large quantities of onions, garlic, cabbage, or strong herbs until later in baby's first year. You may elect to food-process the meat if you make a meat stock, and add to the stock to expand the meat side of the palate if you so wish. Stock will help give the veggies a different dimension in flavor and help expand the possible combinations of foods you give to baby.

For storage, we filled ice cube trays to 3/4 full for each cube, and once the cubes froze, we emptied the cubes into freezer bags for extended storage. After the initial weeks of food trials, we found that we could take a cube from each of the bags we had, and be able to present baby with a multi-dimensional meal whenever we sat down to eat.

To supplement the veggies, stock, and meat, we also steamed quite a bit of rice. I would make the rice a little more sticky, and freeze in the same ice-cube trays. The rice would defrost quite nicely, and add a textural, albeit soft, dimension to baby's meals.

Hurrah Hurrah

Oh what a weekend it was. Penn. Alumni Weekend. Tradition. All the fun of time with my college friends without the stress of finals and papers. The grounds of our University awash in red and blue, with alumni descending on the campus in droves, young and old. And can you believe, the 65th reunion for some - you do the math! It's all I could have asked for, to let me reminisce about my college days days of ole walking on the same ground tread by many before us, spending my time in the breadth of study - ok, just sometimes - and parties - well, all right, most of the time.

And as we hugged and cheered, and met our friends again as they came from near and far, we danced into the night while the rain pitter pattered on Locust Walk and cast a quietude over the entirety of the campus. It's this Penn that I always remember - the quiet campus, too often so as I headed out late after long hours in studio or in study, just in time for rambunctious revelry at a friend's house or at our favorite watering hole (can you believe, Smokes still smells the same after all these years!). There was something wonderfully romantic about the campus this past Saturday night, as three of us walked arm in arm from one party to another, under an umbrella just big enough to leave our heads dry. And as we recalled distant memories from our days on campus, our freshmen fascination when we first set foot on these grounds in West Philly, our stroll along Locust Walk engulfed me in the breath of life I felt when I lived, at Penn.

May I take care to add, that Hubby was not part of our evening festivities, as he stayed home to take care of our little ones so that I may spend the time in revelry with my fellow classmates! Gracious, gracious thanks.

The campus is still amazingly romantic. It's like an old sweater to me - well worn, familiar, and much loved. We had a great time with the reunion festivities, between parades, picnics, and photographs. And the kids' tent at our picnic, complete with kid-sized chairs and tables; straw bales for outdoor seating to watch the jugglers, magicians, and acrobats; and activity tables where the kids can make beaded Penn keychains or decorate a Penn frame for your photo from the nearby photo booth - just perfect for us parents with little ones. Our enjoyment of the weekend events even led Hubby to entertain plans for how we will celebrate my 20th reunion, in just 5 years. To think - the kids will really be ordering me around by then. Amazing.

So to toast our dear ole Penn, I pass along the recipe for my drink of choice. While I didn't realize it until I googled it just now, my signature drink happens to be a highball. Providence, I tell ya.

Highball (I call it a Jack and Ginger)
2 oz whiskey
Ginger ale or soda water/lemon
Ice

Fill a highball glass with ice. Pour in whiskey, add ginger ale to top off, and stir. Enjoy cold, any time.

Easter dinner

At a loss for what to serve this evening for Easter dinner (should be something a little more special than most Sunday dinners), I embarked on a journey so frightening, no one should ever have to withstand such torture: I started cleaning out our fridge and freezer. I chucked from the bowels of our chiller chest ingredients that I'm sure had expired with the last administration, left-overs that I thought would be just delicious when reheated (but haven't gotten around to reheating in forever), and things that had so much freezer burn, they were asking me for aloe.

But as the light of the refrigerator started breaking through the rush-hour of left-over congestion, I found some items that were of more recent history, that I could toss together into our impromptu Easter dinner this evening: oxtail, duck fat, and a quarter of a left-over bottle of cabernet sauvignon that we opened just this week (still good, I tasted it).

While I wondered exactly how much could go wrong with any dish that starts with duck fat (not required, just my call), I pulled out a bit of flour, salt, pepper, pasta, onions, and carrots. And with these items in hand, light finally shining through the shelves again, I recalled that delectable dish of oxtail ragu I had at Batali's Eataly and found my little taste of heaven this evening. We served this dish alongside a fresh lettuce salad from our garden (yay!) and pickled beets. If at all possible, cook the oxtail for a minimum of 2 hours. The marrow in the oxtail does amazing things for sauce that would be rendered impossible otherwise.

Keep in mind, the ingredients list is what I had on hand from our freezer and in the fridge. The basic required ingredients are those outlined in the first three groups of ingredients.


Rigatoni with Oxtail Ragu
Oxtails (I had about 6 measly little pieces, about 2" long and ranging from 1" to 3" in diameter)
Flour for coating
Salt/pepper

Duck fat (I used about 1.5T)
Carrots, chopped (4 smallish ones is what I used, not the huge carrots)
Onion, chopped (1 large or 2 small)
Garlic, 4 cloves
Ground beef (about 1/4 lb)

1.5c red wine (I used cabernet sauvignon)
1 vegetarian boullion
3/4 can of plum tomatoes, with juice
Pasta (I used rigatoni, but pappardelle, fettucini, or other wide pastas would work as well)

(optional, but this is what I found in the freezer and tossed it in)
1 sweet Italian sausage, casing discarded and broken into little pieces
1 hot Italian sausage, casing disgarded and broken into little pieces

1. Season the oxtail with salt and pepper, and coat with flour (just enough to coat is plenty). Discard any left-over flour.
2. Heat duck fat in pan until lightly bubbling, but not smoking.
3. Brown floured oxtail on all sides. The right time when you can remove the oxtail from the heat is when the meat has pulled back from the edge of the bone. Remove from heat, and set aside.
4. Saute onions, garlic, and carrots until onions are translucent.
5. Add ground beef, break into little bits, and saute.
6. Add red wine to deglaze the pan. Take care to scrape up all browned bits from the oxtail.
7. Add oxtails, and let mixture simmer until red wine reduces to about half.
8. Add tomatoes, optional sausage, and bouillon. Stir to dissolve bouillon.
9. Bring mixture to a boil, and reduce heat to steady but gentle simmer (bubbles at the surface). Let simmer for about 2.5-3 hours, stirring every so often to make sure the sauce isn't sticking to the bottom, and mashing the plum tomatoes against the side of the pot. The ragu will reduce by about 2/3 (you'll have 1/3 left). Season to taste, with salt and pepper.

*You'll know when the texture of the sauce is right. It thickens wonderfully as the bones and marrow cook.

Cook the rigatoni right before serving (add some salt to the water to help flavor the pasta). Serve, and enjoy.

...and in other news, our fig tree has created some fruit!