The best thought was that I need to write more about the world, and less about me. (But if I write it as I see it, aren’t I still writing about me?) Either way, I need to write, so you see the conundrum. When I’m not writing, I am not at my best. But I find myself a rather dull subject after a while. I’m working on it.

But anyway, I’ll share some opinions. I love leeks, and I love my drive to school: this is Beaver Meadow Road. You see how beautiful it is–and how one might want to spend 1,000 words describing it. But I won’t.

I won’t spend 1,000 words on this, either. But it’s just a few feet up. Can you imagine?

Nor will I spend so much on leeks. But I will say this: you will never be dissatisfied if you keep a few leeks and a carton of eggs on hand. And some parsley, garlic and parmesan. This works well on the days (weeks) when you can’t drive to the grocery store. I had a day like that recently and was grateful for my leeks. They are better to eat than canned beans. But I must say, the leeks pictured came from a market in the fall… I’ve eaten many since and would’t advise storing them for quite that long.

I love the circles that leeks make when you cut them, and the colors fading from dark green to pale white. I love the way they get brown in a pan and the way they smell with butter. They go soft and sweet, and are more delicate than their onion cousins.

Leek Frittata

2 leeks, sliced thinly cross-wise and well rinsed (whites and light greens only, please!)

1 T butter

6 eggs

White wine (1/2 c, maybe)

1/2 c grated parmesan cheese or parrano, sliced thin

2 T chopped parsley

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Preheat oven to 350.

Wash them leeks! Really. You’ll ruin the whole thing if there’s sand in a leek, and leeks love to be sandy.

Heat your butter until brown and delicious-smelling, then saute leeks until beautifully golden (this should take time–do it slowly).

Add some white wine if you can and saute some more.

In a separate bowl, beat your eggs with salt and pepper. Add parsley.

If you prefer, you can put the cheese in now, or gently lay it over the eggs before baking.

Place leeks in a a round, oven-proof dish big enough for this sort of thing. (You can also use your skillet.)

Pour eggs over leeks and cover with cheese.

Bake about 20 minutes, though you may need more.

I usually eat this with some toast or little baked potatoes and a green salad. (And I like the dressing from this salad.)

I’ll have wine running through my veins, though, and tryptophan. I’ll listen to the 49ers and Ravens concuss each other, and I’ll be only half conscious. I’ll fall asleep, finally, on the couch, in my in-laws living room.

Imagine! Falling asleep too stuffed and boozy to move…at your in-laws house!! I am not Homer Simpson, so this strikes me as something never to do. But it is just what I will do. I’ve done it for the last 6 years. Next year, Christopher will do it for my parents. And our fathers and mothers and sisters will do the same for us. We’ll all make each other feel better about being lazy by being lazy. That is, after we’ve dragged ourselves to the Turkey Trot to feel somewhat better about the 3,000 calorie overload we plan for later in the day. Knocking 300 calories off of that in advance will sure feel gratifying. I can sense the waves of superiority and adrenaline already. Pass the gravy boat.

The only person who won’t get drunk and sleepy is Christopher’s mother. She’ll have the silver polished and re-arranged an hour after we’ve finished dinner. By midnight, all of the Christmas presents will be wrapped and stored away. Actually, she’s probably already done that. I see myself rising off of the couch at about 5am in search of water or Advil–just when she sits down to her morning papers and bowl of Fiber One. Then I’ll feel good that I’m in law school, because at least I normally behave like a moderately responsible adult. Don’t I? Can’t you tell that I am a responsible adult?

If you’ve got extra turkey, make this chili. No one said the turkey had to be ground. Use your chunks, your hunks, your otherwise sketchy sinews and bones for broth. Just use that big bird up. Remember that once upon a time, people were cold in November, and hungry sometimes. (Also: lest we forget, not too long ago, there were Indians in this country.) Maybe there is someone cold and hungry nearby and you don’t even know it. If you’re too sick of turkey to eat chili, make it for that person, or else just deliver your day-old drab slabs or meat and gray gravy. The thrill of this meal wears off faster than we all expect… unless you don’t have the privilege of passing out at 9pm, sweaty and stuffed.

Enjoy yourself this weekend. Eat much too much, feel bad, and let guilt propel you to do something nice. God bless Am’rca.

Lupe and I walk past a house with so many apples, that they fall and cluster in a stream. I imagine that the water is probably sweet. She’ll run over and taste it, but I have not. Since this picture was taken, the apples have frozen and floated away. We had a cold spell last week.

Often, I walk or run with Lupe in the woods after school. Now I have to go at 2pm, because it starts to get dark by 3:30! I like being outside, because, even though the tree tops are gray, their colors are still around. Like confetti, underfoot.

]]> http://www.breadandcourage.com/2011/11/13/late-fall-vermont/feed/ 0 http://www.breadandcourage.com/2011/10/19/fall-vermont/ http://www.breadandcourage.com/2011/10/19/fall-vermont/#comments Thu, 20 Oct 2011 02:01:15 +0000 isabellypepper http://www.breadandcourage.com/?p=3171 I love fall. I haven’t had a lot of time to cook for myself, but I immensely enjoy eating things other people make, especially if those things involve apples. Also, I love cider donuts.  I’ve even found a recipe to try, someday…when I graduate from law school, start my career, have children and watch them grow up and go away. Then I’ll make some cider donuts.

Though I’ve had less time for cooking than I’d like, I’ve found that life is grand even when it’s not centered around the stove. Especially at this time of year, and especially in Vermont.

It’s been a while, so I’ll go back a bit. Tunbridge, VT: September 17th.

Christopher and I saw some very sweet cows, and a few prize-winning vegetables.

He rode Air Force One, and felt like the king of the green mountains. I had to look away, because the sight of his whirling chair made my stomach turn. There were lots of onlookers. I licked a candy apple and stared at a grass patch.

The next day, (my birthday) I saw these beautiful berries at the farmer’s market. We ate them with Greek yogurt and clover honey. I felt like the queen.

When we visited the lake a bit later, it was quite cold. That didn’t stop my mother from swimming. This photo was taken on October 11. She is braver than I am, although I think of myself as being quite brave.

This takes us to October 11th. Can you believe?! She swam on October 11?

We had to re-stoke the fire, and we ate warm cider donuts with vanilla ice cream.

Then the trees really started to turn. It gets more beautiful, still. Just wait until next week! Life gets better and better.

I also feel compelled on Sunday nights to squirrel away food for the week ahead. I like roasted vegetables and quinoa or Israeli couscous with herbs, leftover black bean soup and anything with Parrano cheese. Towards the end of the week, I pack almond butter and banana sandwiches on cinnamon-raisen Ezekiel bread. But, because Christopher and I make a ritual of roasting a small bird on Sunday night, I often have chicken salad in my Monday lunchbox.

This may be my favorite chicken salad recipe of all time. That says a lot because chicken salad is one of the tastiest dishes imaginable. Anyone who doesn’t like chicken salad is either a vegetarian or a liar. I’ve heard tell that some folks don’t like mayo. I’m not in that camp, but I can understand why you might be turned off by a glistening, jiggly food that’s made of eggs but can last in the pantry for years if unopened. That’s why this recipe is wonderful: it uses a scant cup of plain yogurt, which offers just enough zest and moisture to enhance the taste and texture of chicken.

This recipe is just right in the fall: apples are back, and warm spices taste best in cooler weather. Strafford Organic Creamery sells organic yogurt—-and milk, and ice cream—-which I consume daily. I love yogurt. I am probably the only person in America who exceeds the recommended three cups of dairy a day: I’m above-quota now that we’re in Vermont and Strafford ice cream is in the freezer. {I recently had a conversation with a gentleman who said that he would have Strafford ice cream if he were about to face the electric chair. “That’s the strangest thing,” I replied. “I’ve thought the same.”}

In any event, this salad takes just a few minutes to prepare and is a perfect lunch–it leaves me feeling sated, but not groggy. Fresh apples, tart, chewy cranberries and crunchy toasted walnuts make it special. I owe this recipe to my friend Louisa, who made a version of it over a weekend in July and had me eating chicken salad for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Curried Chicken Salad with Apples, Dried Cranberries & Walnuts

Combine 8oz pulled chicken (I combine light and dark meat from a roast chicken) and 1 c plain yogurt in a bowl with 2 teaspoons of curry powder. Add a pinch of salt, and a dash of pepper. Mix in 1/2 c toasted walnuts, 1/2 c dried cranberries (or dried cherries) and 2 medium-sized, chopped apples. Season with additional curry, salt or pepper, as desired.

I must admit, certain produce is drawing to a close. This may be the last weekend to make good with peaches, so use them while you can. But remember, just because the August fruits are gone, doesn’t mean the summer’s over. I’ll rebel, as usual, by swimming until the geese have flown. I love the way my lips turn a corpse-ish lavender in a late-September lake. It’s perfectly subversive because it’s a bit masochistic. It’s not easy to jump first thing into cold water, but when I’m done, the morning is mine.

I made this crumble last weekend, and there are still peaches lingering at farm stands, so I might make it again on Sunday. It was a great dessert with vanilla ice cream, although I thought it was better the next day: warmed up and served with Greek yogurt after an early swim. It’s got all the components of a satisfying breakfast–oats, stewed fruit, brown sugar. Don’t let it get away.

Happy long weekend. I hope you eek out every last, golden moment of this fleeting season.

Peach and Cherry Crumble

Makes 8 slices

Preheat oven to 350.

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For the fruit:

Pit and peal 8 super-ripe peaches.

Cut 12-15 cherries in half, and pit.

Toss fruit with 1/4c all-purpose flour, 1/4 c brown sugar and the juice of 1/2 lemon.

Spread fruit evenly into a pie-plate.

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For the crumble:

Toss ½ c flour with ½ c oats, 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon and 1/4 teaspoon salt.

Once combined, add 1 c white sugar and 1/2 c gently packed brown sugar.

Blend in 1 stick of cold, diced butter until sugar, flour and butter combine. The butter should form pearl-sized crumbs.

Add 2/3 c chopped pecans to the mixture and spread evenly over fruit.

Bake for approximately 45 minutes, or until fruits are bubbling and oats are browned.

Life is changing a lot–unlike my friends in Texas, who have endured nearly three months of 100+ temperatures, I can feel the fall moving into North Country. It starts with a subtle gust of cooler wind, whirling at my feet. I hear a few more crows cry, and the smell in the air changes a little. It’s not electric yet, but that’s coming. We still have warm, golden afternoons. The wildflowers and hay are high, the leathery day lilies just beginning to wrinkle. The next few months are my favorite time of year, especially in this part of the world. Home.

Moving is difficult. I haven’t written about it: there were so many emotions, and I didn’t know what to say. Christopher and I spent four years making a home, building our own village, and then suddenly–albeit at our own discretion–the place and the people faded in the rearview mirror. We packed up our books, our rugs, our bed. Our belongings were skillfully arranged on the truck like Tetris bricks, set to be carried along thousands of miles of highway.

We drove through Arkansas, Tennessee, Virginia, Pennsylvania then up to New York and Connecticut. The moving van lagged behind, picking up other homes en route. I lay in bed at night in motels with florescent lights shining through grey curtains, itching from stiff sheets. My belly ached and my head spun from too many sweets at Cracker Barrel. I thought about our home… where we lived after we got married, where we collected books and made meals and memories. It unnerved me to think of our things in boxes, rumbling along some unknown highway. We couldn’t get more than an estimate on what day the movers would arrive. They said, “We’ll call when we’re close.”

My parents live in Connecticut, and we stayed with them, waiting for the call. In the meantime, I grounded myself in the kitchen. I love what the land offers in late-summer. Eggplants, squash, tomatoes, maize and fruits became ratatouille, corn salad, blueberry crumbles, peach pies. Still, there were monarchs in my stomach. For over a week, my whole life was up in the air, (or out on the road) and I had no idea what it would be like where I landed.

Well, it’s quite nice here. Our house is small and cozy. Right now I want to stay forever, although that, too could evolve. I’ll miss these summer squash as the September breezes blow in and clear the fields for something new. But I can’t wait for the apples.

Raw Zucchini and Sun Gold Salad

Serves 2 as a side-dish or stater

Slice 1 medium zucchini and 1 medium summer squash into matchsticks.

Cut 1 c Sun Gold or cherry tomatoes into halves.

Make a vinaigrette (reserve extra) and coat zucchini, squash and tomaotes generously, letting them marinate at least 15 minutes.

Toast 1/3 c pine nuts.

Pit and chop 1/2 c black olives.

Chop 2 oz feta into small blocks or crumbles.

Chop 1 large bunch of herbs (I like parsley or basil).

Wash, dry and chop 6 c of greens (optional).

Just before serving, toss greens in enough vinaigrette to coat. Lay zucchini and tomato mixture on top.

Add cheese and olives and sprinkle herbs to garnish.

Add pine nuts last, preserving their crunch.

I am enamored with raw zucchini. I love the stuff, why hide it? Some people bake it into bread, (which is one of my favorite things to eat, no doubt) some into cookies. I haven’t seen a zucchini ice cream, but I have seen it crystalized as a cake topper. If you are sick of summer squash, there are limitless ways of serving it secretly… tucking it neatly into something else and feeding it to folks without saying so. Or candying it and brandishing it as ribbons and bows on a frosting-wrapped cake.

I find that the secret to eating it unabashedly uncooked is slicing it thin. If you get it with a mandoline, or cut it into tiny matchsticks, zucchini absorbs the flavor of what you put with it and isn’t overpowering. In my case, it most often becomes a delightfully crunchy vehicle for Parrano cheese and toasted pine nuts. If you haven’t tried Parrano cheese, brace yourself: it is the slickest baby Parmesan and Gouda could have—smooth, sweet, salty, slightly sharp. Yes, it really is all of those things.

This can be served with lettuce or without, although I find that a bed of greens acts as a nice cradle for drippy vinaigrette. Lettuce helps in preventing a plate from puddle-ing up. I could see this sliced zucchini served on top of cold quinoa or wild rice, in which case the leaves would be unnecessary.

Also- somewhere during my summer squash romance, Christopher and I packed up our entire house and moved it from Texas to Vermont. (The zucchini is equally good in both places, although I feel like I’ve cheated the seasons: summer squash, tomatoes, corn and other hot-weather wonders started appearing in May down south, while they’re just cresting here.) This picture was taken as one of our last lonestar meals, and the camera is at large, so please use your imagination to picture how beautiful this salad can be. Now that I’m settled, there’s more zucchini to come.

Raw Zucchini Salad with Parrano and Toasted Pine Nuts

Serves 2 as a generous appetizer, 4 as a side-dish

For the Dressing

Combine 2 teaspoons of dijon mustard with 6 tablespoons of champagne or white vinegar.

Add 2 teaspoons of honey, a dash of salt and a crack of pepper.

Add 1 tablespoon of finely chopped parsley.

Stir to combine.

Slowly, drizzle in ¾ c of olive oil until emulsified.

Set aside. (You will likely have enough for tomorrow.)

For the Zucchini

Slice 1 zucchini and 1 summer squash into think strips, preferably with a mandoline. Cut into 3” pieces.

In a medium bowl, pour enough dressing over the zucchini to coat.

Let this marinate in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

Just before serving, thinly slice ½ c Parrano cheese and toast ½ c pine nuts.

If using lettuce, coat greens lightly in dressing in your serving bowl.

In their bowl, toss zucchini and summer squash with cheese.

Place zucchini in a serving dish, (possibly over greens) and garnish with toasted pine nuts.

In the meantime, he caught this fish:

He caught several fish last weekend, so I know his casting isn’t a fluke either.

I married up.

Come dinner, I felt like I had a first class ticket to an old lady’s house in Tripoli. No jet lag. I was wrong to think that the magical combination of Middle Eastern spices could only be had in some far away place–or at a restaurant owned by someone from a far away place. As it turns out, Christopher substitutes fine for a Lebanese grandmother.

I watched him make these on July 4th. It looks pretty simple, and requires only things my parent’s already had in their spice rack. The only critical component was leaving enough time for the spices to enliven the lamb. He made the meatballs after lunch, and let them sit until dinner. On the grill, they get crispy outsides, but hold up fine, even without breadcrumbs or yolks. We served these with a simple yogurt, cucumber and dill sauce.  Some call it tzatziki.

Lamb Kafta

4 cloves garlic

1 tablespoon kosher salt, plus a pinch

1 pound ground lamb

3 tablespoons grated onion

3 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

1 tablespoon ground coriander

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon curry powder

1/4 teaspoon ground ginger

Freshly ground black pepper

Olive oil, for brushing the grill

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Dice the garlic as finely as possible, then rub in sea salt to form a paste, using the flat-side of a knife.

Add the spices, onion, garlic and parsley to a large bowl and mix completely.

Add the ground lamb to the spices and mix until fully blended.

Roll into 1/2″ patties and refrigerate, at least 3 hours.

Grill for 3-4 minutes per side.

I am a big fan of blending my gazpacho, although I also like it chopped. It depends on the goal: if avocado and lots of herbs or a green pepper are part of the plan, then pureeing is not the strategy, except when I dine alone. I don’t mind eating brownish soup. (Shhh.)

But tonight I had mostly red in my kitchen, and a puree was ideal. (Although I didn’t have any strawberries or cantaloupe on hand, I would likely have added some for the sweetness–a little fruit in gazpacho is really subtle and delicious.) When I’m making a blended batch, I reserve some of the chopped vegetables for  texture, and usually add some other garnish–sometimes shrimp, crab or avocado. I’ve never considered a floating crostini…that would feel too fussy for this kind of edible spontaneity.

Tonight I had some sweet, jumbo lump crab, to which no mollusk or crustacean compares.

**Note: this soup is best if it has time to sit: I recommend making it in the afternoon (or a day before) and blending once more just before adding garnishes and serving.

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Today’s Gazpacho

Generously serves 2

3  medium tomatoes, cored and rough chopped

1 large, red pepper, cubed

1 medium, yellow pepper, cubed

1/2 red onion, diced

1 large cucumber, peeled, seeded and cubed

1 jalepeño pepper, diced (optional)

Juice of 1 lemon

Generous bunch of fresh basil

Olive oil, s & p

1/2 c jumbo lump crab

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Blend the vegetables, reserving about 1/2 cup to mix into the puree just before serving.

Add jalepeño in parts, to taste.

Add a few leaves of basil, and more if you’re happy with the taste and color.

Drizzle olive oil into the puree, and add lemon, salt and pepper to taste.

Just before serving, chiffonade remaining basil and garnish bowls with chopped veggies and jumbo lump crab.