Monday, April 24, 2006

Going to the dogs




I love my pets. I love them more than food, although I don't think they could say the same of their love for me.

Our dog, Jersey, a cocker spaniel was the queen of our hearts. We had her for more than 15 years, since she was less than 6 weeks old. She was just a teenie thing when we bought her -- it's a long story, but we had to buy her, rather than adopt. She was a real baby and when we'd leave her along, she'd cry in our front window like a baby. Fortunately, she got a kitty and although they fought like the proverbial cat and dog, they loved each other.

But last summer, Jersey got very sick. Her breathing was labored and she was coughing. She took a turn for the worse one night and I had to rush her to the local Pet Emergency Care. They put her in an oxygen cage. The next day, Rob and I took her to her vet, where we were told that she was very ill and probably wouldn't make it though the night.

We looked at her, and she was calm. She was with us and we made her happy. So we decided it was time. The doctor injected her and we held her as she died. It was one of the saddest things I've ever done.

I'd always known the day would come, after all, as Rob says, loving a pet is like loving a child with a terminal illness. They just aren't going to live that long. We also knew we'd never replace our Jersey. I wanted a couple of months, and we had the company of Brindle, a black poodle/shitzu mix who is one of the sweetest dogs. Brindle ended up staying with us because of a long list of circumstances, but she went back to be with her mommy and I wanted another dog.

I was determined to adopt a dog this time, believing that there are way too many unwanted animals in the world for me to be buying a dog. I contacted a local rescue group, 4 Small Paws out of Newbury Park, Calif., and asked if I could be considered as a prospective adoptee. Within days, I received a call. There was a chihuahua who needed a home. He had been found wandering the streets with a broken leg. The problem was that he people who tried to adopt him had cats and this doggie loves to chase cats.

I had no problem in that area. Our two cats have faced down the cocker spaniels that belong to my friend. The dogs would stay with us when their mom and dad went away. Our big cat, Mythos, is over 17 pounds. The other cat, Lily -- short for Lil' Kitti -- has enough attitude for 50 cats. One day one of the cocker spaniels tried to growl at her and she just went up and started smelling the dog's teeth. This served to so confuse the dog that she gave up the growling and walked away.

I figured a little 7 pound dog wouldn't intimidate my kids. I was right. When the 4 Small Paws lady Lori arrived she was holding the little white and reddish brown boy. He came in and was terrified -- except for some peeing on the hearth -- and sat there shivering. I showed Lori our house. The yard the dog would have. The bed next to ours if he didn't want to sleep with us, which we prefer. We showed her Jersey's ashes on the mantle with her collar and a picture, next to the ashes and picture of her Kitti.

Lori decided to give us a try and left the dog with us. Lori called him Chewy, but he didn't seem like a Chewy. The family wanted to name him something Mexican, but I vetoed all their suggestions, up to and including Senior PeePee. Everyone had just seen the "Motorcycle Diaries," and we decided on Fuser, which was Che Guevera's nickname and means wildman.

Fuser ended up joining our family, and found that the cats were less than cooperative about the chasing game. So he would cry until they would play. Mythos the cat really isn't "into" being chased by a dog less than half his size, so unless he's feeling particularly magnanimous, he won't run. Lily actually likes the game and has been know to jump of Fuser to get him to chase her.

Little Fuser started out as a very timid little guy. But I have him lots of love and he's a lot more secure now. He does have a thing for Rob and will run from him. We took Fuser to an obedience class. He really didn't get a whole lot out of it, although he did learn a trick where he plays dead when you go "bang," and point a finger at him -- imaginary gun style.

Then Brindle ended up coming back to stay because her mommy moved to Oregon. Brindle and Fuser get along wonderfully. They love going to the beach and just running after each other. Their biggest bone of contention is their sleep position. Apparently the rule is the one higher and tighter to mommy wins. I have to be careful in my sleep because I never know who I'll be rolling on to.

We'd settled into life as a two dog family. Then around my birthday in February, my daughter informed me that her roommate had found a dog wandering in El Rio, a local, poor community. We took Rascal in and had him groomed and given shots and finally neutered. He and Fuser have discovered a kind of "Brokeback Mountain" kind of intense physical love, which they feel the need to share with the world. And Brindle has established herself as Top Dog.

Rob was entirely against the adoption, but one thing about Rob is that he loves animals as much as I do, so if I keep the animal in question around, he'll cave. It's worked four times now. Lily and Mythos both showed up on our doorsteps, crying and cold. We've never actually sought to get a cat, but we've ended up with three during the course of our marriage.

The dogs are a bit of a problem because Rascal isn't housebroken and Fuser and Brindle, who've always looked at housebreaking as an option, decided, why bother. I'm making a little progress with Fuser and Brindle, but Rascal has no clue. He'll cry to come in so he can poopie inside. I have so many cans of cleaning products, I could open a de-stink store.

But they are cute. I often refer to them as Moe, Curly and Larry, and they do seem as though they feel they're a pack. A wild pack of wolves, they say. They're not the cool dogs I'd always pictured myself walking along the beach with, all of us with our hair blowing in the wind. Then again, I was supposed to look like Joan Allen, but I have more of a Kathy Bates thing going.

I enjoy spending time with my babies, and they all are. I think it is such a wonderful thing that there are animals who want to hang out with us and give us love. Sure they have a pretty good deal: free food and board and a minimum of expectations. Your dog isn't going to do poorly in school. Your dog isn't going to talk back -- although your cats might. You don't have to worry about being too disappointed in your dog, well, unless he poops on a neighbors rug or something.

As Charles Schulz said, "Happiness is a warm puppy." Kitties aren't so bad either.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

And now, the quiet six months




After Easter, it's nice to settle into the six months off. There are no real holidays between Easter and Halloween, at least in the world of competitive holiday celebrations. Sure maybe a barbecue or two with red, white and blue bunting, but not the serious, get out the decorations and plan in advance kind of holidays. I'm looking forward to the less-hectic summer months.
We had a really nice, low-key Easter and everyone behaved well. I created a trifle with chocolate, pudding, strawberries and whipped cream. I just love trifles. I put everything I think is good into a bowl and call it dessert. What an invention!
We've also been eating tons of egg salad. This happens when you dye a bunch of eggs. Fortunately, I have a pretty tasty recipe, so it's not too much of a hardship.

Chocolate dream trifle
1 large package instant vanilla pudding*
1 package Nestle dark chocolate mousse*
1 pint whipping cream
Vanilla
sugar
3 quarts strawberries
1/2 pound good quality semi-sweet chocolate
2 tablespoons butter
2 packages ladyfingers

*This recipe will call for about a pint of cold milk to make the pudding and the mousse.

Prepare vanilla pudding according to package directions. Chill. Prepare mousse according to package directions. Chill. Whip cream, adding vanilla and sugar to taste. Trim tops off strawberries and slice into quarters lengthwise. Coarsely chop chocolate and place in microwave safe bowl (I used a Pyrex measuring cup) along with butter. Heat in microwave a minute at a time, stirring after each minute, until melted.
Drizzle chocolate down the sides of the trifle bowl until you have a pretty good covering of chocolate around the sides of the bowl. Line the bottom and sides of the trifle bowl with ladyfingers. Fold pudding with 1/2 pudding. Scoop half of the pudding mixture into bottom of trifle. Spread 1 quart of the strawberries on top. Drizzle chocolate over strawberries. Spoon mousse on top and spread. Put another quart of the strawberries on top. Drizzle with chocolate. Spread remaining pudding mixture on top. Divide the remaining quart of strawberries in half. Put half on top. Drizzle with chocolate. Spread whipped cream on the very top. Make a decorations with the remaining strawberries and drizzle more chocolate on the top. Chill and serve.

Egg salad
6 hardboiled eggs
about 3 stalks celery chopped
2 1/2 tablespoons dill relish
1 teaspoon capers
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/2 teaspoon Hungarian paprika
Chop eggs. Add the remaining ingredients, stir and chill.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Here comes Peter Cottontail



Easter is sort of a overlooked holiday. Most people have a fuzzy notion of when the day is, and they have a family dinner or something. Me! I love Easter. Starting some time during Lent, I start decorating. I buy the Easter stuff at the stores after Easter, so I get some really good deals. Then I sprinkle it around the house.

Easter week is spent rounding up all the pieces that make up my holiday. I get my Honey Baked ham, I buy some lamb -- Trader Joe's had some butterflied leg of lamb on sale. I'll grill it outside. I need the best asparagus around. I've scoped out the shops and veggie stands and I'll stick with farmers market asparagus, which is truly pencil thin and insanely expensive. I bought small red potatoes. I bought one of those mixes with yellow, blue and red potatoes for Christmas, but the blue potatoes cook a lot faster than the other two varieties. By the time the red and yellow potatoes were cooked, the blue potatoes had pretty much blown up and dissolved. I threw them out and serves the red and yellow potatoes and vowed not to make the same mistake again.

The Saturday before Easter is the day I dye Easter eggs. I learned the trick to hardboiling eggs years ago and I want to pass it on:

Hard-boiled eggs
Place eggs in the bottom of a non-aluminum pot. Try to have enough eggs to cover the bottom of the pot, but don't crowd them. Pour cool water over the eggs, covering them by about an inch. Heat over high heat until boiling. Unlike other recommendation, I let the eggs boil for about a minute. Then I turn off the heat and let them sit for 15 minutes. I pour off the water, being careful to hold onto the eggs so they don't start cracking into each other. Place the eggs under cold tap water and run it over the eggs until they cool. Place them in reserved egg carton and store in the refrigerator. I like to dye them the next day.

Back when I was a kid, people kept boiled eggs out and ate them. I remember one particularly unhappy Easter when I got food poisoning from a bad egg. I was at the point of illness when you no longer care if you're going to die because dying would be preferable to violently dry-heaving all night, with family members telling you to be quiet because they're trying to sleep. So I make sure my dyed eggs are properly refrigerated. I'll take them out for Easter dinner, but they go right back in the fridge after the feast.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Fish market


Every Saturday morning, starting at 8 a.m. at the Ventura Harbor there's a Fisherman's Market. I wrote an article about it a few years ago for the local newspaper (were I was employed). I had always been perplexed by the California coast when I first arrived here almost nine years ago. I grew up in New Jersey. We spent time in Nantucket. I lived in Boston for awhile. I've even made my way to Florida a few times. The Atlantic seashore is chock-full of shops and restaurants featuring sea souvenirs and seafood. The Ventura County seacoast, on the other hand, almost seems unaware that there's an ocean nearby. There are some really nice homes on the beach -- a rather precarious endeavor in my opinion -- and there are some resorts. In Ventura there's a really cool pier with a good seafood restaurant on it. There are a couple more upscale places nearby. But it's nothing like the jam-packed, hopelessly tacky Eastern seashore of my youth.

There are junky places on the California coasts, but I don't visit them. I'm content with the Ventura County to Santa Barbara stretch of coast for the most part.

One of my favorite places to go in Ventura is the Ventura Harbor. There are a number of restaurants, a few shops, boat docks and entertainment on the weekends. The harbor backs to the ocean, with one of the most beautiful beaches I've seen, if you like rugged, natural beauty -- no groomed beaches here.

Andria's Seafood restaurant and market is located at the harbor. This is where the Fisherman's Market is held on Saturdays. Fresh catch from local boats is sold, and if you're not there at 8 sharp, you miss out on the best stuff. There is a lot of jostling for the best fish.

This past Saturday I scored some local shrimp and some unknown fish. I thought they were sand dabs at first and they could have been. I'll have to admit, I'm one of those unfortunate people who thinks she has to know everything -- or at least appear to know everything. I like to act like I'm at old hand at everything -- your basic Jane Cool. So I rarely ask about stuff and just try to overhear what other people say. It has occurred to me that unlike at least half the 20-somethings in Southern California, I don't have a film crew following me around and no one really cares about how cool I am, other than me -- and perhaps my husband, who refuses to be married to someone who's uncool. So now I ask more questions -- but in a really cool way.

The local shrimp are sold alive. I brought them home and boiled them in salted water with a few bay leaves thrown in. I cooked them until the shrimp were beginning to curl, but hadn't yet curled into a tight circle, which means they're overdone. After the cooked shrimp cooled, I cleaned them by taking off their heads. Shrimp heads are kind of cool. They are a great addition to fish stock, but they're also invaluable for having fun with the kids.

The first time I bought the shrimp, my squeamish daughter, who was around 19 at the time, started complaining about the insect-looking shrimp that were moving around in the bag. As I was beheading them (After cooking them), I got a great idea and put a shrimp head on each finger. I ran around the house after her making shrimp noises, or noises shrimps should make, and wiggling my fingers. Our landlord stopped by at that precise moment and the front door was open ... priceless.

Pacific shrimp are a lot redder than the shrimp traditionally sold in supermarkets. They tend to be on the small side. The peeled shrimp's texture is less firm on the outside, but the same as supermarket shrimp on the inside. These shrimp are sweeter than other shrimp, perhaps because they're fresher. Just boil them up, cool them down, whip up some sauces and serve. They are a treat. And fun for the whole family.

Traditional cocktail sauce
1/2 cup ketchup
1 teaspoon prepared horseradish (not sauce) or to taste
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce or to taste.

Mix together, chill and serve

Mustard/tarragon sauce
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/3 cup hot mustard (I used Phillpe's mustard, which is super hot and is available at http://www.philippes.com)
1 teaspoon dried tarragon
Mix, chill and serve

Tarter sauce with a twist
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons dill relish
1 teaspoon capers
Tobasco sauce to taste
Mix, chill and serve

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Easter egg tree


I'm a big stickler for holidays and decorations and celebrations. My feeling is that life is routine most of the time and grim some of the time, so we should squeeze all the celebration out of it that we can. Back in Ohio, our best friends were physicians from the Dominican Republic. The woman half of the couple, a psychiatrist used to tell me that I was "such a homemaker." She didn't mean it in any pejorative sense. She meant that I love to make my house a home and spend a lot of time and effort creating an ambiance I enjoy and that the family likes.

One of my favorite "homemaker" things I do each Easter is put together an Easter egg tree. I had seen one during a walk in Ohio and waited years until I finally found plastic eggs with holes at the ends (I could have made holes myself, but my dedication to the idea wasn't quite at that level.) I then got some fishing line (thicker is better), knotted it well and strung each egg on a bare tree branch -- preferably a blooming tree such as a fruit tree -- (I use my peach tree). The Easter egg tree is so cheerful and spring-like that I have to do it each year. (I save the plastic eggs from year to year.)

When I went back to Ohio for my grandson Cody's birth, I put up an Easter egg tree in my daughter and son-in-law's yard. It was immediately approved by the neighbors. Everyone who's seen it really likes it and a few have run off to make Easter egg trees of their own -- with more eggs.

I'm sorry but the world of competitive holiday decorating, copying makes you lose massive points that can't be made up by creating a gaudy imitation of the original cheerful, yet tasteful tree. After all, there will be NO inflatable bunnies in my yard, although I couldn't resist a bunny windsock for me and a Hoppy Easter plaque for my daughter. I just love Hoppy Easter -- it's so stupid it's funny. My daughters roll their eyes over my dorky sense of humor.

The delightful irony for me, though, is when I unveiled the Easter egg tree in California, I told everyone I got the idea in Ohio during a walk. (Yes, I lost originality points the first year I did it, but according to the World Federation of Home Decoration, the idea becomes your own if you've incorporated it into your tradition annually for at least three years. Look it up.) And when I was in Ohio, everyone acted as though this were such an original idea. I said they do it in California.

My Easter celebration will be relatively low-key this year, with a Honeybaked Ham, grilled lamb, red potatoes with green onions and parsley and asparagus with lemon butter. I assemble Easter baskets for everyone to take home. I'm trying to cut back on the candy because I've gone totally wild and last year had at least 25 pounds of candy left -- I kid you not. Kaia discovered it one day after Easter. We knew because all we could hear coming out of the dining room was Kaia going, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" Sugarhead that she is, she thought she'd died and gone to heaven.

As usual, I'm excited. I have my decorations out. I'll have to dye eggs this week. It's a good thing there are kids in my life, otherwise I'd just be a weird old lady -- OK weird-er.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Living here


I love living by the ocean. It was a lifelong dream that'd I'd forgotten. But when I went to spend a vacation in Oregon in a house on the Pacific, I knew what I had to do. Or as my daughter always put it, "You went on vacation, saw the ocean, thought it was pretty and ruined everyone's lives." That, of course was back when she was in high school. Now, almost nine years later, she's the biggest California Girl of them all.

But living by the ocean has been educational. Having grown up in New Jersey and vacationed in Nantucket, I always thought of beaches as being groomed, with huge stretches of white sand. And in California, the bigger cities and tourist destinations keep their beaches pretty pristine. Here in Ventura, we are trying to let the beaches behave as they want to naturally. The idea is that with beach erosion being a problem, how do we stop it from happening? Through trial and error -- a lot of error -- people have noticed that the beaches replenish best when we leave them alone. This means undamming the rivers, allowing the cobble to collect at rivermouths and letting the debris that washes up after storms remain as is and let the sand collect around it and bury it.

This isn't a pretty process and it makes the beaches harder to navigate. And it isn't certain that this is the answer because it's a pretty complex process. But so far, man-made solutions have proved unsuccessful, so it's time to let Nature take over.

Lesson aside, it was a great evening at the beach. I just love going down there with Rob and the dogs (one of them, Rascal is at the vets getting altered, poor guy). One of my new "things" is to look a lot cooler. After 50, this is a piece of cake :-). I want to be all quite the babe at the beach with my long tresses blowing in the wind, body like Jane Fonda's, dressed in cool casual -- jeans, sheepskin boots (NOT Uggs, after all, I'm not trendy), and cool dogs.

In reality, I keep my hair tightly pulled back so it doesn't blow in my eyes or otherwise get on my nerves. My body is, well, Jane Fonda? Not so much. I've got more of a Kathy Bates thing going. I do wear the sheepskin boots (they are SOOOO comfy), but not at the beach because I don't want them to get stained with saltwater. I wear my ubiquitous Teva sandals.

And my dogs? Well, my dogs are short and yappy. The chihuahua Fuser is all cliche, going after bigger dogs. My husband says he reminds him of Danny Bonaduce. And the dog does have a little, bow-legged, I-wish-I-weren't-such-a-short-putz bravado. The other dog, Brindle, is a poodle/shi-tzu (sp -- and I REFUSE to look it up because I hate that word.) She's a sweetheart who just wants loving. The latest guy, Rascal, who was a stray, is a poodle/terrier mix and is a real sweetheart, doing whatever he needs to to fit in and letting Fuser and Brindle boss him around even though he's the biggest.

But at least I'm at the beach, and that's cool enough in and of itself.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Fighting to expand my horizons



My husband has quit smoking. This is a huge, hairy deal because he's smoked for almost 40 years. And he loved it. He never coughed and is as nimble now as most 12-year-olds. His idea of heaven on Earth, aside from the golf course, was sitting smoking a cigarette and drinking a good cup of coffee.

Needless to say he's been a tad on the cranky side since he gave up his nasty habit. And while I'm especially glad he's quit, seeing that I am an asthmatic who's allergic to tobacco, I may have to do him some serious bodily harm if he doesn't settle down.

And although my husband has many good qualities, an adventurous palate isn't one of them. Usually I try to plan meals based around his many, many, many aversions and prohibitions, but seeing as how he's not particularly in my good graces these days, I didn't feel any qualms serving him something wild, something crazy, something so far out there that his head would completely spin off his shoulders. Yes, you got that right, I made a cheese souffle.

For all my culinary aspirations, I've never made a souffle, mostly because I never bought or received a souffle dish. I was also a bit intimidated. Back in the stone ages, when I was growing up, souffles were considered quite the gourmet accomplishment.

But then I started looking at recipes and danged if it didn't looks amazingly easy. It was. I'd had a wild hair to make souffle for a few weeks; I've been toying with springtime dishes and souffles offer that. But I feel as though a whole new world has been opened to me. Watch out souffle-land here I come.

Usually I tinker with recipes right off the bat, but this recipe, which I found on my very favorite online cooking resources:
Gruyere and Parmesan Cheese Souffle

Grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
5 tablespoons all purpose flour
Pinch of cayenne pepper
Pinch of ground nutmeg
1 1/4 cups whole milk
1/4 cup dry white wine
6 large egg yolks
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 1/4 cups plus 2 tablespoons (packed) coarsely grated Gruyere cheese (about 6 ounces)
1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese
8 large egg whites

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 400°F. Generously butter one 10-cup souffle dish or six 1 1/4-cup souffle dishes; sprinkle with Parmesan cheese to coat. (If using 1 1/4-cup dishes, place all 6 on rimmed baking sheet.) Melt butter in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add flour, cayenne pepper and nutmeg. Cook without browning until mixture begins to bubble, whisking constantly, about 1 minute. Gradually whisk in milk, then wine. Cook until smooth, thick and beginning to boil, whisking constantly, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat. Mix yolks, salt and pepper in small bowl. Add yolk mixture all at once to sauce and whisk quickly to blend. Fold in 1 1/4 cups Gruyere cheese and 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese (cheeses do not need to melt). Using electric mixer, beat whites in large bowl until stiff but not dry. Fold 1/4 of whites into lukewarm souffle base to lighten. Fold in remaining whites. Transfer souffle mixture to prepared dish. Sprinkle with remaining 2 tablespoons Gruyere cheese.

Place souffle in oven; reduce heat to 375°F. Bake souffle until puffed, golden and gently set in center, about 40 minutes for large souffle (or 25 minutes for small souffle). Using oven mitts, transfer souffle to platter and serve immediately.

Makes 4 to 6 servings.
Bon Appétit
Cooking Class

April 2000

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Rainy day dinner


It's been raining here in Southern California -- a lot. We've had more than 4 inches so far this April. And it's only April 5.

Southern California has a strange relationship with rain -- where else can you see "Stormwatch 2006" when it sprinkles outside for about an hour?
But when it really decides to rain around here it can get pretty dramatic. I live just a few miles from La Conchita, which experienced a tragic mudslide over a year ago. And just north of me, just about a block, some houses were inundated with mud.
Southern California isn't geologically suited to lots of rain, which is why we're prone to mudslides and flooding.

I love living here because you can go outside almost 365 days a year. And it's easy to get spoiled because the weather is almost always good, if not perfect. Temperatures never drop much past the 40s at night and are never higher than the mid 70s. It's rarely too windy, although I'm not a big fan of the dry reverse winds from the desert -- the Santa Anas. But they're relatively infrequent.

But I've had it with this weather (and yes, I'll have cheese with this whine). I'm trapped indoors with three little doggies who refuse to go potty outside in the rain. This means I spend my days wandering around with paper towels, sponges and sprays. Dog 1 sprays his pee, Dog 2 sprays his pee on top and I come along and spray some stuff on top of that and wipe it up. OK, this is a major reason to want the rain to end.

There is one good aspect to rainy days, however: they lend themselves to all kinds of warm, sturdy cooking. This dinner was the perfect antidote to my rainy day blahs.

Pork chops with Marsala Mushroom Sauce

2 tablespoons canola oil
2 large (1-inch) bone-in pork chops
Dried thyme
1 (one ounce) package Santini Mixed Wild Mushrooms (available at Trader Joe's)
1 cup hot water
1 cup Marsala wine
4 shallot cloves, chopped finely
3 tablespoons butter

Heat oil in skillet. Sprinkle pork chops with thyme on both sides and saute in the skillet for about 6 to 7 minutes a side for medium-well chops. Soak dried mushrooms in one cup hot water for about 15 minutes. When pork chops are done, remove from skillet and let the meat rest. Add wine to skillet to deglaze the pan. Reduce by half, add shallots and add drained, reconstituted mushrooms. Add butter and stir until warm. Serve over pork shops with Trader Joe's Spelt with Red and Green Bell Peppers (this stuff is really good for you and everyone likes it, even my husband), and Trader Joe's Brittany Blend frozen vegetables lightly tossed with olive oil or butter. Both spelt and veggies should be prepared according to package instructions
.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Cookies and Kaia




Kaia and I are buddies. We've been hanging out since before she was born, back when Rob and I were championing having her name be "Ooga."
(back story: Rob and I were at his mother's and one of his nieces dumped her baby on my lap so she could go out and smoke. I muttered to Rob, "What is this kid's name?" He replied, "I don't know ... Ooga?". Rob and I don't do names. So now we are determined to have one kid named Ooga. At least we could remember that.)

Kaia is a little redhead, with a sweet, but determined, temperament. She and I bake cookies together for the holidays. We baked some at Christmas and now, we had Easter cookies.

My all-time favorite cookie cookbook is the King Arthur Flour Cookie Companion. The recipes in this book are amazing and unique. The little touches make the best cookies. I've even won awards for them -- two ribbons -- second and third place, at the Ventura County Fair. (I won a blue ribbon for my peach pie -- yeaaaa me!)
Kaia and I make the sugar cutout cookies, which are so delicious that I have banned myself from making them when Kaia isn't around. I'll eat them all.
We had fun, although we did have a point of contention over how much colored sugar to sprinkle. Kids seem to have an uncontrollable urge to dump half a jar on each cookie. I tried to explain that this isn't necessary, and that I'd have to clean up the mess. Cooking is a great way to introduce all kinds of concepts to children: fractions, counting, precision, creativity, science.

Here's our favorite rolled sugar cookie recipe:

(Recipe courtesy King Arthur Flour Cookie Companion)

King Arthur's Special Roll-Out Sugar Cookies
1 cup (2 sticks, 8 ounces) unsalted butter
1 cup (7 ounces) sugar
3/4 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon almond extract (optional)
1 large egg
1/4 cup (2 ounces) heavy cream or sour cream
3 tablespoons (3/4 ounce) cornstarch
3 cups (12 3/4 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
In a medium-sized bowl, beat the butter, sugar, salt, baking powder, vanilla, and almond extract until light and fluffy. Add the egg and beat well. Add half the cream, all of the cornstarch, and half the flour, beat well. (Giggle when flour goes all over the place despite the guard on the KitchenAid). Add the remaining cream and flour, mixing just until all of the ingredients are well incorporated. (Show that by going slowly with mixing speed, the flour dispersion rate drops.)
Divide the dough in half, flatten into rounds, and wrap well. Refrigerate for 1 hour or more to facilitate rolling. (I found that it needs to be worked slightly before it will roll out without breaking apart after refrigeration.)
preheat the oven to 350F. Lightly grease or line with parchement, two baking sheets.
Transfer the chilled dough to a lightly floured work surface and place a piece of plastic wrap over it while you roll it out to keep it from sticking to the rolling pin (Anne's note: I actually use flour to create a nonstick rolling pin and surface. I find plastic wrap to be awkward to use and it leaves lines in my cookies) Roll the dough to 1/8 to 1/4 inch thick. Cut it into the shapes of your choice and transfer to the prepared cookie sheets. (Anne's note: Decorate with colored sugar and jimmies at this point. Wait until the cookies have baked and are cooled before frosting. If you're doing both frost, then decorate after cookies have cooled)
Bake the cookies 10 to 12 minutes, until they're set but not browned. Remove them from the oven and let cool for 5 minuted on the baking sheet beofre transferring to a rack to cool completely. Use a metal spatula to pick up one cookie; if it seems fragile or breaks, let the cookies continue to cool until you can handle them easily. (Anne's note: Make sure to rotate cookies half way through cooking if you're cooking two sheets at once. Move the bottom sheet to the top position and the top sheet to the lower position when the cookies have been in the oven for about 6 minutes. Cool cookie sheets by placing them in the refrigerator between batches.)

Saturday, April 01, 2006

On the road

What with traveling back and forth to Ohio in honor of the birth of Cody, I've decided to try to cut back on food bills here in California.
I had offered to come stay with Courtney during the final days of her pregnancy -- she was due to be induced March 24. Courtney seemed really happy about the prospect, so I made the arrangements. But the week I was slated to go to Ohio she found out the induction had been moved up to March 17, the day after I arrived.
The birth went well and we were all home, exhausted, by Sunday. I figure the mom's job in this type of situation is to keep the house clean, buy food and other stuff that's needed -- it's amazing what you find you need right after a baby -- and stay out of the way; let the new family get used to each other.
I stayed 10 days and headed back home, much to my relief. I lived in the Dayton, Ohio, area for 14 years. Once day, I woke up and realized that if I didn't act soon, I could DIE -- in Dayton, Ohio! Ewwwwwwwwwwwww!
So I got out an Atlas and browsed the want ads and when I saw a city with ocean as part of the map, I applied for a job.
I've loved Ventura since the day I stepped foot in it and find it hard to leave. The scenery is beautiful, the weather is perfect and the pace is right the way I like it -- not too fast and not too slow. L.A. is right next door if I want upscale, cultural events and National Forests surround me.
Coming home to Ventura is a joy, even if it's been a bit rainy.
Rob, my husband, and I have been working on eating better food -- we're both lazy and will resort to fast food, not out of desire, but out of pure ambivalence ("What do you want to eat? I don't know, what do you want?" "I don't know something fast.")
But this week I headed out to Trader Joe's and assembled the makings for almost a week's worth of meals.
One meal was chicken breasts, bone in, skin on browned in a skillet and then simmered with Trader Joe's Masala Simmering Sauce. I served the chicken with the Trader Joe's Basmati and Wild Rice pilaf.
Meal Two was a pork loin served with a creamy tarragon wine sauce. I served this with Trader Joe's frozen vegetable melange.
And meal three was the standard spaghetti and meat sauce.

Pork Tenderloin with Creamy Tarragon Wine Sauce
1 pork tenderloin (about 1 pound)
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil (No, it is NOT called EVOO -- ever!)
1 tablespoons dried tarragon
garlic powder
1/2 cup white wine
1 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon dried tarragon

Sprinkle tenderloin with dried tarragon and garlic powder. Saute in oil until all sides are browned. I recommend using a stainless steel saute pan for this. Avoid a cast-iron skillet, as it will affect the taste and appearance of the sauce. Remove from heat. Add wine to pan and stir up drippings. Reduce by half and add cream and second tablespoon of dried tarragon. Bring to boil, then reduce to simmer and add tenderloin. Cover and cook, turning the tenderloin frequently and making sure the sauce doesn't boil down too much (if it does add more cream), to where it's becoming sticky at the bottom of the pan. Cook until tenderloin reaches desired doneness. For well-done, it takes about 10 minutes.

Spaghetti and meat sauce

1 pound Dreamfields pasta (this is GREAT stuff that reduces carbs by making the startch molecules too big to be absorbed in the digestive system -- if I'm understanding the process properly)

1 pound Italian sausage
1 can crushed tomatoes with puree or a spaghetti sauce that has no sugar.
3 bay leaves
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 cup Parmesan cheese

Prepare the pasta according to package directions until al dente (meaning "to the tooth" or firm, but not crunchy). Brown sausage, breaking it into small pieces, drain fat and add tomatoes, bay leaves and oregano. If you're using tomato puree, you can up the ante by coarsely dicing green peppers and onions and adding them when the sausage is browning. Let sauce simmer, allowing flavors to marry. Drain pasta and place back in pot. Add sauce and mix, adding Parmesan cheese. Some people say to add a little pasta water, but I like my sauce to be a bit sticky.