I'm having a book!

I have some super news to share -- I at long last have a contract to write a book! The book will be about the lovely and amazing food writer M.F.K. Fisher. Don't know who she is? Check back here for more stories about who she is and why I think she is so fabulous. Plus there will be daily doses about the joys and frustrations of writing a book (I'm not quite sure I know what I am doing!) plus news about what I am eating, cooking, thinking about, and doing when I am not busy furrowing my brow in front of the computer.

Ash-e reshteh

When M. and I go to visit his mother, who lives in the remote Sierra Nevadas, we bring food. Lots and lots of food. She has close access to only one grocery store and she gets understandably tired of its offerings. Last time we went to visit she requested something "exotic."
Exotic? We imagined fresh fish, curries, strange shaped veggies and unique flavors.

Suddenly I remembered the soup from the Persian cookbook that M. had been prodding me to make for weeks. The ingredient list was long and daunting. But with a whole Saturday in front of us we could make it -- there were plenty of hands for chopping and not a lot else to do. We made a lengthy list and hit the grocery store buying nearly all the fresh spinach they had and bag after bag of spices and dried beans.

M. spent most of the afternoon making the soup while the girls talked, knit, and drank tea. Then we let the soup sit overnight and made the garnish the next day before eating the soup for a big lunch. It was amazing -- hearty, healthy, a complete meal in a bowl. The flavors, the likes of which I've never had together, were familiar and homey yet entirely new. We all loved it.

Ash-e reshteh is a Persian soup made in honor of the Iranian New Year. It is a soup that does not photograph well. Some might call it homely (the photo above was taken without the colorful final garnish) but when peering into a bowl of it, it is beautiful with its deep rose color, swirls of greens, leggy noodles, and nuggets of beets, beans, and lentils.

Yes, it requires nearly a day to make. But when the weather is inclement and there's nothing to do, it is a day well spent.

1/4 cup dried chickpeas
1/4 cup dried navy beans
1/4 cup dried red kidney beans
3 Tbl. butter
3 large onions, peeled and thinly sliced
5 cloves garlic peeled and crushed
2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
1 tsp. ground turmeric
10 cups water
1 cup green lentils
4 cups beef broth
1/2 pound linguine, broken in half
1 tbl. flour
1 cup coarsely chopped chives or scallions
1 cup chopped fresh dill
2 cups coarsely chopped fresh parsley
10 cups washed and chopped fresh spinach, or 3 pounds frozen spinach, chopped
1 fresh beet, peeled and diced in 1/2 inch pieces
1&1/2 cup sour cream

For Garnish:
1 Tbl. oil
1 onion, peeled and sliced
6 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
1teaspoon turmeric
4 Tbl. crushed dried mint

1. Soak chickpeas, navy beans, and kidney beans in 4 cups water for at least two hours. Drain and set aside.
2. In a large heavy pot heat the butter over medium heat. Add the onions and garlic and fry for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally until golden brown. Add the salt, pepper, turmeric, kidney beans, navy beans, and chickpeas -- stir fry for 1 minute.
3. Add 10 cups of water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium, cover partially and simmer for 45 minutes.
4. Add the lentils and the beef broth, cook 20 minutes longer.
5. Add the noodles and flour and cook 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
6. Add chopped chives, dill, parsley, spinach, and beet. Continue cooking, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes, or until beets are tender. Add salt and pepper to taste, add more water if the soup is too thick.
7. Prepare garnish: Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add one peeled and sliced onion and fry for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add 6 cloves peeled and crushed garlic and stir fry until golden brown. Remove from heat, add 1 teaspoon ground turmeric and 4 tablespoons crushed, dried mint. Mix well & set aside.
8. Stir sour cream into soup, saving a dollop for garnish, and mix well.
9. Pour soup into bowls and garnish.
Make this soup a day in advance to give the flavors a chance to meld.
Serves many.

Reading List

"A good journal entry -- like a good song, or sketch, or photograph -- ought to break up the habitual and lift away the film that forms over the eye, the finger, the tongue, the heart. A good journal entry ought to be a love letter to the world.

Leave home, leave the country, leave the familiar. Only then can routine experience -- buying bread, eating vegetables, even saying hello -- become new all over again."

This is from Four Seasons in Rome by Anthony Doerr, the slim book that is currently on my beside table and that I dip into periodically during the day when I get tired of the reading that I am doing for work and research.

It is a lovely book. I have never been to Rome and imagine I might like it even more if I had been. But the words about journal writing are what caught my eye last night and what I woke up thinking about this morning.

Butternut Squash & Radicchio Pappardelle

M. and I are well settled into a cooking routine: I cook two nights a week, he cooks two nights a week and the others are up for grabs. We cook together, go out, or have a dinner party. The days, all filled with good food, go by quickly.

Last week I was determined to cook something sophisticated yet easy. I am still proving my culinary prowess and am keen on recipes that deliver a lot of good flavor with not a lot of effort. It also had to be a frugal meal -- I'm still waiting for my first paycheck from a new job to be deposited firmly into my bank account.

The pasta came together quickly and easily as promised. I lit candles and put out cloth napkins. We ate this hearty, vegetarian pasta and drank a generous glass of Cabernet. The pasta was immensely satisfying. Earthy and bitter because of the radicchio, sweet from the squash, all mixed with buttery slippery noodles. It is a recipe I will keep and love because its sophistication belies just how easy (and inexpensive) it was to make.

Butternut Squash & Radicchio Pappardelle
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine -- January 2009 issue
1/2 stick unsalted butter (I used a little less and it was just fine)
2 tablespoon olive oil
1/3 cup chopped walnuts -- or try pine nuts, as the original recipe suggested.
1 lb butternut squash, peeled and seeded and cut into 1/2 inch cubes
3/4 lb radicchio, cored and thinly sliced
1 (8 to 9 oz) package of pappardelle, broken into large pieces
Parm Reggiano to grate over finished pasta

1. Melt butter in a skillet over medium heat, cook until butter is golden brown, about two minutes. Add oil, then nuts, and cook, stirring, until nuts are golden & fragrant, about 1 to 2 minutes.
2. Add squash to skillet and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until golden ad just tender, 6 to 8 minutes. Add radicchio and 1/2 teaspoon each salt and pepper and cook, stirring, until wilted and just tender, 3 minutes.
3. Meanwhile cook pappardelle in a pot of boiling water until al dente. Reserve 1 cup of pasta water before draining pasta. Add pasta to radicchio mixture with 1/2 cup of the pasta water and toss over low heat until heated through, about 1 to 2 minutes. Add more cooking water to moisten if necessary.
4. Spoon into bowls, top with walnuts and cheese, and serve.
Serves 4 as a main course

Lemon Buttermilk Cookies

These are true tea cookies. Cookies to eat off of antique plates and dip into cupfuls of tea. They are cakey and lemony and mild and sweet. I am making them to take on a weekend getaway where we will have tea and lounge and probably do a lot of eating but not a lot of moving.
These will be perfect. They are just light enough that I can almost convince myself that they are calorie-free.

For Cookies:
3 cups all-purpose flour
zest of one lemon
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 and 1/2 sticks butter, softened
1 and 1/2 cups granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2/3 cup well shaken buttermilk

For glaze:
1 and 1/2 cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons well-shaken buttermilk
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice (or more, to taste)

Make cookies:
Preheat oven to 350, place parchment on baking sheets
Whisk together flour, zest, baking soda, and salt.
Beat together butter and sugar in a large bowl until pale and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition, then beat in vanilla, Mix in flour mix and buttermilk, until smooth.
Drop level tablespoons of dough about an inch apart on baking sheets. Bake, one sheet at a time, until cookies are puffed and edges are golden, 12 to 15 minutes per batch.
Cool cookies on sheets one minute, then transfer cookies to racks.
Glaze cookies:
Whisk together all glaze ingredients and brush on the tops of warm cookies. Let stand until cookies are completely cooled and glaze is set.

Cookies are best the day they are made, but can be frozen, well wrapped, up to one month.

The Best of Days

I know, I know. Most have declared the cupcake trend over. But really, what do you do when you need a sweet that is exceedingly celebratory and festive? A cookie just won't do, neither will an austere lemon tartlet, or piece of dark spicy gingerbread cake. You need a dessert that practically screams yes! woo hoo! well done! A cupcake is the thing.

Yesterday I was having a very good day. Despite the fact that I had been out to lunch, when I passed a small bake-shop with rows of treats inside I decided I had to stop. My eyes gravitated away from the brownies and blondies towards the cupcake corner. There were red velvet cupcakes, chocolate cupcakes with colored vanilla frosting, and chocolate cupcakes with dark, fudgey frosting.

Not wanting to seem too cupcake obsessed, I asked for one of the cakes with vanilla icing. The girl picked a cupcake towering with pink frosting and sprinkled with candy confetti. It was perfect.

I took it home and there it sat. The afternoon got better and better, and the cupcake, which I intended to eat as a snack, languished. Before I knew it, it was time for wine and dinner: lemony white fish, celery and potato puree, green salad, and warm and crispy cannele for dessert.

But the cupcake was not forgotten. I ate it quietly and alone after lunch today while watching the rain fall. A sweet reminder of a truly great day.

A Brand New Day

What to eat on a momentous day? The options are endless. I could make something to honor Barak Obama's Hawaiian or Chicago past or D.C. future? Or maybe I should try a new recipe I've been wanting to make, something delicious to munch on while I sit in my sunny home and watch history unfold.


Jam Filled Corn Muffins
1 cup medium grain stone ground cornmeal
2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
3/4 cup sugar
1 and 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 eggs
1 cup buttermilk
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted & cooled
12 generous teaspoons jam
Sugar for sprinkling (optional)
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Lightly butter 12 muffin cups.
2. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, and baking soda.
3. In another mixing bowl, whisk the eggs, buttermilk and melted butter. The mix will appear slightly curdled, but will come together when combined with the dry ingredients.)
4. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients, and add the wet ingredients. Stir with a few swift strokes until combined.
5. Fill prepared muffin cups 1/3 full. Top each with a teaspoon of jam, placing it directly in the middle of the batter and away from the edges. Then add a large spoonful of the remaining batter, completely covering the jam. Sprinkle tops with sugar, if desired.
6. Bake until muffins are risen & browned, 12 -15 minutes (mine took more like 20). Remove from the oven and cool for five minutes in the pan before removing.
From the Hay Day Country Market Cookbook by Kim Rizk

These would be just as good without the jam & then could be served at breakfast, lunch, snack time or dinner!

A Day at the Beach

Some days it is necessary to escape the city. San Francisco is lovely with its winding sidewalks, busy streets, lines of people at hip cafes, strollers and children, people and dogs, and bikes. But occasionally it is nice to get away and walk in fresh quiet air for a bit.

In Portland this was very easy to do. There were so many parks and green spaces. San Francisco has a lot to offer but there are so many people to enjoy it. No matter where you go it seems there are always a few dozen others who have though of just the same thing.

So we went South, not very far, but far enough that it felt like an entirely different world. We had tacos and horchata at Tres Amigos before finding a beach with yellow pebbly sand, minuscule bits of beach glass, and shells of all shapes, sizes, and varieties. There was no one there besides another couple, perched up against the sand bank, quietly enjoying the sun and a bottle of wine.

It was quiet, so quiet. The wind was slow the sunlight warming and the fresh air invigorating. We walked, collected shells and looked at the birds.

Later we ate salted caramels that had been warmed gently on the front seat of the car. I only had one, but it might have been the best salted caramel I ever ate. It was so good we drove back for more, but I haven't eaten them yet. So I don't know if the caramel was really that good or if it was simply the day that was sublime.

Make Me Proud

Yesterday was my first day as a volunteer for 826 Valencia, a non-profit writing room in San Francisco's Mission District dedicated to helping kids improve their writing skills and get excited about reading & writing.

Being willing, able, and endlessly enthusiastic I volunteered myself for a challenging task: helping unruly 5th graders at Cesar Chavez Elementary prepare for their upcoming California State Literacy Test. I had an hour and forty minutes to wrangle a handful of students through the process of reading a riveting mini-bio of Paul Revere (did you know he was a dentist?), underlining the main points, summarizing the main points, filling out a ven diagram with the similarities and differences between their life and Paul Revere's (if you are 11 this is tough), and coaching them through the writing of a three paragraph essay. As if all this weren't hard enough, none of them were native English speakers. And me, let's just say I'm not particularly talented in Spanish.

But, we did it, and the little darlings were so endlessly thankful I think I just may go back for more next week. There is something about helping others that makes you feel good...

All this wordy fodder is simply build up and background before plugging 826 Valencia and their latest project. Today, January 16th, they are featured in the NY Times for their new book Thanks and Have Fun Running the Country: Kids' Letters to President Obama. The book was written during the afternoon hours at 826 when kids come in for help with homework. When they are finished or need a break they are encouraged to write and be creative. A recent prompt was to write letters to Pres. Obama with some advice. And boy do they have advice: be nice, get a dog, pay teachers more, help the people without homes. A platform I would be happy to support.

I am so proud, and happy to be a new addition to the 826 family that I am almost willing to forget about the $50 parking ticket I got while volunteering my heart out at Cesar Chavez Elementary. Is this what they mean when they say give till it hurts?

January

The January I am used to is filled with grey and rain and clouds and mud. For years I would go to work in the dark and return home in the dark. One January, it rained every single day. Imagine it -- no sunshine, no glimpses of blue sky, just dreary pouring rain. I got used to it, somehow. I exercised a lot to keep my spirits up, drank lots of coffee and wine, and made lots of rich savory winter meals. I am the kind of person who prefers to be curled up inside so rain is just an extra incentive to do what I love to do -- nest.

This is why it is so strange that this January, my first in San Francisco, is filled with sun. There have been days upon days of sun in January. For the past days it has been above sixty-five degrees. People run outside in tank tops and short shorts. They sun themselves in chairs at outdoor cafes, reclining back so that every inch of their face, neck, and arms, is devoted to the rays. They play frisbee and eat ice cream. It is a little slice of June trapped in January.

But I am still not used to it. I put on layers that I strip once I have gone outside. I look at the blooming colors in wonder. I'm confused, so confused about where this goodness comes from. M. says we're in a drought. He is concerned about water levels and wants it to rain. "This isn't good," he says every day when he comes home from work.

But still, we watch the sun rise each morning while eating breakfast.

Reading List

I am currently reading Home Cooking by Laurie Colwin. Pardon the pun, but it is such a delicious book. I'd heard about it for years and years and it was recommended to me by numerous people. I even think someone loaned me the book, but I never cracked the cover.

What a mistake that was. To think I could have been enjoying her beautiful essays for years, returning to them again and again each winter, maybe even cooking from the recipes found on her pages. It is a shame that I did not recognize greatness when it was handed to me.

Home Cooking is the first book of 2009 that makes me want to curl up, shut out the world, and read. But there is one major drawback: if I read too quickly the book will be over too soon. It is a dilemma.

But since it is a sunny, lovely day and since my afternoon appointment was cancelled, I may have a free ticket to sit in front of my big window and turn some pages. It helps to know there's another book, inventively titled More Home Cooking to read when I am finished with this one.

Pork Secrets

In our household, M. cooks the meat and I bake mean desserts and set the table. It's a set up that works just fine, most of the time. I do make dinner a couple of times a week but when I do it hardly ever involves meat. Part of the reason is that we've both agreed that we don't need to eat meat every single night. Vegetables, proteins like eggs and beans, and hearty complex grains are delicious. The other reason I don't cook meat is that M. does it so very well. He is the king of braising and roasting and other cooking techniques that take a long time but result in the most succulent, tender morsels of meat you've ever put in your mouth.

Which is why I was very concerned when he asked me if I could pick up the pork butt and cook it for him while he was at work. I tried to remain calm while asking a very specific set of questions -- how much should I buy? Should it be boneless or bone-in? Where should I go to buy it? He gave me an explicit set of directions while doling out spices from the numerous unlabeled jars hidden above the stove. A handful of black peppercorns, a bay leaf, some cumin, and lots and lots of dried red peppers.

All I had to do was locate the pork store, purchase the pork butt, bring it home, clean, de-seed, and de-stem the peppers and then put it all in a pot, cover it with water and simmer on very low for hours.

It seemed easy enough, but I was anxious. Every so often I am aware of the fact that I am being tested, that M. is giving me a small culinary challenge -- can I handle it? If I fail I know it will be ok and that he will fix my mistakes. But if I succeed it makes me much more credible in the kitchen.

Now I am one step ahead of him. After my afternoon with the pork butt I know that slow cooking pork is not difficult at all. I followed the instructions and let the pork simmer for hours. Six or seven hours to be exact while I worked, napped, read, and swept the floors. Every so often I would check on it, adjust the heat, poke and stir a bit. It all looked fine.

M. came home, lifted the lid and proclaimed it good. And this is where I let my guard down -- I shuffled off to the couch with my New Yorker and left him to do his thing in the kitchen. I think he strained the water the pork had been simmering in and saved it in the freezer -- some mean pork broth for another project. I think he put the pork in a baking dish, salted it liberally and then placed it in the oven to crisp up just a bit. I think his secret weapon is orange zest, but when does he use it and how much?

Clearly I stopped paying attention. I was setting the table and lighting the candles while the oven door opened and closed and a wooden spoon scraped the side of a pan. Our pork smelled good and tasted even better. It was a big hit with the dinner guests who have no idea how simple it was to make. Nor do they know all the secrets of the pork. But then again, neither do I.

Sick Day

I have caught a bit of a cold. Normally I have an immune system made of steel and don't pick up all the bugs and germs that float around in the wintertime. Because of this I get a little worried when I start to get sick, only because the times I am sick I tend to be very, very sick.

But not to worry, after a long night of sleep, some hot tea, and healthy doses of ColdEase (a homeopathic cold medicine meant to beat of cold germs) I am feeling okay.

I am not so well that I don't miss my Mom who knows the foods I like I when I am feeling ill and just how to make me feel better. Thankfully I have a little piece of Mom with me this morning. Earlier this week she sent a big box of lovely cardamom rolls she made with her new Kitchen-Aid. These rolls, warmed in the toaster and spread with a bit of butter are divine: soft, sweet, and warming. They are just the thing for this sick girl.

Resolutions

One of M.'s new year's resolutions was to "Eat more alternative grains!" He said this with gusto while enjoying a bowl of farro soup at Chez Panisse. His resolution may or may not have been an attempt to one-up me. I had just proclaimed my resolve to eat more farro in 2009. Farro is a grain I find seductive in for its shape, nuttiness and texture, and for inexplicable reasons, it is far more available and cheaper in San Francisco than it was in Portland. I have dreams of a full for seasons full of farro goodness. Despite my resolution, I have yet to cook farro in the new year. I have been sticking close to home, nesting a bit, thinking a lot. There have been books and piles of hand-washed sweaters and newly whitened sheets. A new year is a new start, right?

But I did embrace alternative grains by making Beans and Quinoa with Beets and Avocado last night. It is a lovely and colorful dish from the new Rancho Gordo Bean cookbook. Ultimately it is less a deep winter meal than it is a spring or summer dish. But I had all the ingredients and was craving color and healthy vegetables. This hit the spot and I am very much looking forward to the leftovers.

Beans & Quinoa with Beets & Avocado (adapted from the new Rancho Gordo Cookbook)
Serves 4 to 6
5 small beets
extra virgin olive oil (for drizzling)
1/2 cup quinoa
3 cups well drained, cooked Christmas lima bean, warmed slightly (I used black eyed peas left from New Year's and it was delicious! But use dried beans not canned -- it will be better.)
1/2 small sweet onion, thinly sliced
1 avocado

Dressing
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 400. Scrub the beets and dry them. Put in a medium bowl and drizzle with olive oil. Wrap the beets in aluminum foil packages putting like sized beets together and roast until tender, about 45 minutes. When beets are cool enough to handle, skip off the skins with your fingers. Cut the beets into 1/4 inch thick wedges & place in a large bowl.

Rinse the quinoa under cold running water. Bring a medium saucepan of generously salted water to a boil. Add the quinoa, reduce the heat to low, and simmer until the quinoa is fluffy but still crunchy, 15 to 20 minutes. Drain and rinse quickly under cool water. Drain well and add to the beets.

Add the beans and onion to the bowl. Cut the avocado in to chunks and toss with beans, onion & quinoa.

Make the dressing by whisking together lemon juice, vinegar and honey. Drizzle in the olive oil in a thin, steady stream, whisking continuously until the dressing comes together. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Pour the dressing over the salad, toss, adjust the seaonings, and serve.

Ephiphany

Today is Epiphany, a church holiday that celebrates the Three Wise Men and their visit to the Baby Jesus. Growing up, we always left the Christmas tree, along with all the lights and decorations, up until after Epiphany. My parents were less in favor of beginning Christmas right after Thanksgiving; instead they preferred to draw it out a bit, putting the Christmas tree up late and celebrating Christmas right into the new year.

I guess I am a little bit like them. It was with some sadness today that I took down the massive wreath that was hung in our front window. We'd opted out of a tree this year since we were going to New York. Normally one weekend away wouldn't have stopped me. But this year the idea of unpacking ornaments and decorations was more than I could imagine, especially since there were still boxes full of "real life stuff" in the garage still waiting to be unpacked.

I bought a large wreath, complete with juniper berries and a pine cone or two. I festooned it with ribbon and hung it in the window. When the sun shined and heated up the greens it smelled divine. We had a string of lights too, a rather sad one, but they did provide some cheer when we remembered to plug them in. Those came down yesterday.

Now it is January, and a little cold, and a tad gray, and the holiday cheer is over, leaving only a few thank you notes to write and an unopened chocolate bar or two. In France they celebrate Epiphany with a Gateau du Roi, or cake of the kings. In a typically French and festive fashion they eat the cake wearing gold foil crowns and celebrate madly. Oh to be French -- or at least in France today.

I have no celebration planned for this evening and no Gateau du Roi. But I do have a chunk of leftover lemon cake, a simple, delicate cake dusted with powdered sugar and eaten last night at the last of M.'s birthday celebrations. Perhaps we will pull it out this evening, celebrate quietly, and wait for an epiphany.

Birthday Breakfast

Before there was a birthday dinner there had to be a birthday breakfast. M. might have preferred eggs and cheese and sausage, something rich and hearty that would have stuck to our ribs all day. But I had a plan, and it included the De Young Museum and dim sum. All we needed was a morning snack, and this is what it was:

Raisin Scones with Turbinado Sugar (adapted from the January 2009 issue of Food & Wine):

1 1/2 cups flour

3/4 cups quick cooking oats

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

5 tablespoons turbinado sugar

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small cubes and chilled

1/2 cup raisins

1/2 cup buttermilk, plus more for brushing

1. Pre-heat oven to 425 and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. In a bowl, whisk the flour, oats, baking powder, salt, and 3 tablespoons of the sugar. Using a pastry blender or two knives, cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Mix in the raisins. Stir in the buttermilk until a stiff dough forms; knead until it just comes together.

2. On a floured surface, pat the dough into a 3/4 inch thick round and cut into 8 wedges. Brush with buttermilk and sprinkle with remaining sugar. Transfer to the baking sheet and bake in the center of the oven for 17 minutes, until lightly browned. Transfer the scones to a rack and let cool slightly. Serve warm or at room temperature with butter and jam or honey.

A Birthday Dinner at Chez Panisse

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Sierra Beauty Apple and Escarole Salad with Smoked Goose Breast
Farro Soup with Kale and Olio Nuovo

Braised BN Goat Shoulder with Turnips, Artichokes, and Grilled Anchioade Toast
Spicy Wood Oven Roasted Squid with Chickpeas, Fennel Cilantro, and Meyer Lemon

Churchill Brenneis Orchard Kishu Tangerines and Flying Disc Ranch Barhi Dates

A small scoop of Clementine sorbet

I should remember what we drank, but I never do. I get so enchanted by the first glass of champagne that the letters on the lables of the bottles of red and white wine placed on the table all swirl together. But, needless to say, it was all so beautiful, perfect, and good.

First Meal of the New Year

On the morning of the first day of a new year I always have to stop for a moment and consider what I will eat first. It is a significant meal, one that deserves something more refined than nachos, doritos, french fries, or other foods that are often consumed post midnight in a alcohol induced haze. I believe the first meal of the year should be special and good, ideally a food you love but don't get to indulge in very often.

Despite my many profound thoughts about my "first breakfast" I had no plans for the premiere meal of 2009. We woke up early, and after a long morning walk on a grey beach we were cold and hungry. But the idea of toast and eggs seemed sort of drab and we were nearly out of granola. The first new day of the new year seemed the perfect time to test something new and fun: my ebelskiver pan, a yet-to-be-used November birthday gift.

Ebelskivers are sweet Danish dumplings. They are also labor intensive sweet Danish dumplings. The pan has divots for seven, the recipe made forty. Instead I made three batches of seven, quickly shuffling the finished dumplings to the table, stuffing a hot ebelskiver in my mouth and commanding M. to eat before rushing back to the kitchen to make more.

I filled the first batch with apricot jam, the second with cream cheese, and the third with sweet cherry jam. We made one filled with honey, honey that became molten in the pan and sticky sweet and good in the mouth. We will make these again.

We don't know if eating ebelskivers brings good luck just like lentils do in Italy and black eyed peas do in the South. But we are ever hopeful with lots of good luck in the new year.