Zoë Hiking 2003, charcoal on paper, 38 x 30 inches (from a 1976 photo)

June is birthday month for us as we celebrate Bud and Zoë on the 10th and 11th.  Each year we plan something special for those days.  This time Zoë organized a camping trip to Hermit Park, just fifteen miles up the highway from Blue Mountain Road.  We shared the cooking tasks and I brought grilled salmon, potatoes with a vinaigrette and olives, (in Lunch for an Artist), and grilled asparagus for our first evening.  Zoë surprised Bud with his favorite dessert, banana cream tarts, easier to transport than a whole pie.  And she brought a pint Mason jar to use to make the whipped cream topping – by shaking!  It really worked, perhaps with Bud’s magic touch.

Zoë made our dinner the second night, using a box of Annie’s mac and cheese for a base.  This is real camp food and we all feel some nostalgia for other camping trips when Annie’s was the easy choice for dinner.  She embellished the basics with roasted red peppers, peas and basil.  Perfect after a day of hiking and lounging around the campsite.

It was great to get away into the mountains, if only up the road a piece.

Meanwhile, the weeks stretch on and I look for distraction in my cooking.  We often have vegetarian meals and during this stay-at-home time with limited grocery shopping, it’s what I want to cook.  I have dipped into cookbooks that hadn’t been cracked open in a while and rediscovered dishes.  The chard I planted last year self-seeded profusely in unexpected spots so I was pleased to find a recipe for chard gratin in Deborah Madison’s Local Flavors.

Wash, then strip the leaves of  a couple bunches of chard from the stalks.  Chop the leaves into 1/2 inch ribbons and the 1/2 of the stalks into 1/4 inch pieces.  Chop a medium sized onion into dice and sauté in two tablespoons of butter with the chopped stalks until translucent.  Add the leaves, and the water that clings to them, and cook until tender.

  Make a bechamel with one tablespoon butter, one tablespoon flour, and a cup of milk.  Cook for a few minutes then add a cup of grated cheese – cheddar, gruyere, goat cheese, or whatever you have and like, and a bit of parmesan.  Add this to the veggies and scrap into an oiled baking dish, here a treasured piece by Betty Woodman.

In a small skillet, melt one tablespoon butter and brown one cup of panko or other bread crumbs.  Stir in three tablespoons of fresh herbs – dill, parsley, chives, mint – and a finely minced clove of garlic.  Strew the crumbs over the chard mixture and bake at 350° for 25 minutes until browned and bubbly.

 

In the New York Times I found a delicious looking recipe for asparagus and orzo with lemon.  Succulent pasta, lots of tender asparagus, and again, crunchy bread crumbs.

Cook a cup of orzo in boiling water until almost tender.  Drop in a pound of asparagus, trimmed and cut on the diagonal into 1/4 inch pieces and cook for a couple more minutes.  Drain and toss with the dressing – 1/4 cup of olive oil, the zest and juice of a lemon, salt and pepper.  When cool,  add 1/4 cup or so of grated parmesan, and 1/2 cup chopped dill, parsley and mint.  Top the salad with 1/2 cup of panko that has been browned in a tablespoon of olive oil. Serve warm or at room temperature.

And finally, a lentil salad from Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty.   I had roasted tomatoes on hand so this dish was a quicky but if your pantry does not hold them, they are easy to make and a great condiment to have on hand.

Halve largish cherry tomatoes or small Romas and place, cut side up on a baking sheet lined with parchment.  I do this in the toaster oven. Drizzle with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, some crushed, chopped garlic and salt.  Bake at 275° for an hour and a half until semi-dried but still juicy.  Store in a jar, covered in a thin layer of olive oil, in the fridge.

Put 1/2 a small, thinly sliced red onion in a bowl with a big pinch of salt and a tablespoon of red wine vinegar.  Let them marinate while you cook a cup of black or French green lentils.  I used Rancho Gordo black caviar lentils – superb.  Toss with olive oil, salt and pepper, then, while lentils are warm, add the onions and vinegar.  When cool, stir in lots of chopped parsley, dill and chives.

On a platter or individual plates, layer the lentils and onions with roasted tomatoes and crumbled bleu cheese.  I like mild Amish blue here but the original recipe calls for gorgonzola.

 

 

 

 

Summer  2012, oil on canvas, 18 x 18 inches

Last spring I introduced you to my sister Mimi, a gardener and cook living on Straw Dog Farm, her home of over thirty years in central Missouri.  I am pleased that she will contribute to this blog with the occasional piece about her life in the garden.

 

It can feel difficult to navigate these troubled waters. Crises on many fronts. Pain and anger, death and sickness. Exhaustion. I remind myself I’m a tiny cog in this machine we call our world, that I have a part to play, and I need to do it well to contribute to the smooth running of this machine. So I work harder, smile more and feel grateful for my good life, as I celebrate us all.

Mimi Hedl

 

My culinary herb garden began its life 30 years ago. It has become a temple, of sorts, to my love and appreciation for the magic herbs give to food. The most humble of meals becomes a taste and visual treat with the addition of parsley, cilantro, or any of the other herbs people the world over have discovered and honor. If cooks knew how easily most herbs grow, our meals would taste richer.

Every year I try to add another herb to one of the formal beds or along the edges, where rougher herbs like epazote can ramble. It’s wonderful to see the delight on a friend’s face when they recognize an herb from their homeland. I especially remember, Saori, a young Japanese woman, who shouted enthusiastically when she saw beef steak plant, “Shiso, shiso! You have shiso!” And she proceeded later, to make tempura batter and show us how her family eats this herb. And it does taste like beef steak.

The garden sits about 200 feet from the kitchen. When I have guests and realize I forgot to pick the tarragon or basil, dill or cilantro, I’ll ask my friend to please run out to the herb garden and bring back a handful. Suddenly their eyes glaze over. “You mean out there by the sauna?”  Yes, I’ll reply as I cook another tortilla. After 10 minutes I’ll rush out to the garden and see them puzzling, walking around in somewhat of a trance, with several herbs in their hand. I then realize I should’ve had them watch the fire as I fetched the herb. It’s a big, strange world out there to the uninitiated used to buying herbs in plastic containers with labels. Now, however, with the addition of my new ceramic labels, the guess work has disappeared.

Our sister Susan discovered pottery years ago but when she retired she had time to play and explore the possibilities. She’s made beautiful bowls, bonsai containers, ikebana vases, and many, many other things as she allows clay to lead her. Now these ceramic tags.

Last fall, as we talked on the phone, I casually asked if she could make plant labels. She said she’d never done it but felt sure she could. And like a house on fire, she experimented, came up with ideas, and started asking more questions than I had answers for. I tried to slow her down a bit, so I wouldn’t have to do my part, write down the names of the herbs, make choices… (Pathetic, I know.) She’d have no truck with that. She wanted to do it. And now! (This comes from our mother, who would’ve made a great general.) Finally I told her I trusted her judgment completely, to keep them simple. Susan and I decided on a shape and the rest I left in her hands.

When I came home from a trip in November, I found them waiting for me. I hadn’t planned on unwrapping the box, but when she asked what I thought of them, I felt I’d better look and see. I was stunned by the two I opened. Wow! I said to myself, and to her, then stored them until just a few weeks ago and had another Wow!  as I viewed one after another of these beautiful tags.

We’ve had a cold, wet spring. Weeds grow apace. Finally the head gardener had time to dutifully prepare the beds for the labels and a few days ago I ceremoniously planted them in their proper bed and smiled at how official, how open for business, this culinary garden looked. I even spied Brother Cadfael, who has an apothecary garden connected to this culinary garden, sneaking, yes, sneaking over to the herb beds to snatch up some chervil that hadn’t gone to seed.

You can see a few of the herbs that have come into their own, despite the cool spring. Garden sorrel, a sour herb, tastes delicious in salads, in soups, or a leaf or two grabbed as you pass by looking for a sharp taste in your mouth.  Sage flowers beautifully and in the background, rue flowers its lovely yellow blooms. I read that gardeners in Central Park in New York City can’t keep rue plants in their gardens, because someone pilfers them as soon as they go in the earth. I like that. Here, they self-sow with abandon and become host plants for swallowtails later in the summer. Italians use the leaves in salads, in small doses. Some people, including me, get a dermatitis from the leaves on hot summer days, when sweat pours down and the leaves react with your skin and the sun.

Although no labels appear at the entrance to the culinary garden, you can see the rose de rescht that flavors a rose petal wine and the lemon balm behind the roses that also make a delicious wine, as well as tea. And more rue I’d kindly share with the gardens in Central Park.

As the herbs come into their own in each bed, I’ll write more about each and you’ll get a closer glimpse of the plant and the label Susan made.

With much appreciation for the fine work of Susan this was produced by Barbara, written by Mimi and inspired by Susan.

These last weeks isolated at home have made me  appreciate how lucky we are to live on this hillside.  We read about the terrible pandemic and the loss of lives, shop for groceries only  every ten days or so, miss seeing our friends, and feel sad that favorite restaurants and shops are closed and struggling to survive. But for us, with studios and home in one spot,  life goes on in an almost normal fashion.

I have put off writing here because of ennui and lack of focus.  I found it hard to accomplish much besides making meals, gardening and exercising.  My creative endeavors stall out after feeble attempts to carry on.

But I have been cooking and here are some of the dishes we have enjoyed.  Earlier this year I had revived a sourdough starter stored in the freezer.  In late March, when it was impossible to find yeast, I used it to make bread.  As a frugal cook, I hated having to discard part of the starter each time I fed it, so was excited to find recipes online for using this to make English muffins, pancakes, and crackers.

King Arthur flour company has been a particularly useful site for baking recipes.  With some of my hoarded yeast I made ‘Beautiful Burger Buns’ to have with buffalo burgers.

A new pita bread recipe from Smitten Kitchen promised to produce big balloons but mine didn’t puff.  They tasted great but were flat breads not pockets. Perhaps I need to make an altitude adjustment and use more water in the dough.

Aside from baking, I have made falafel, some to eat with my flat pita, the rest to freeze for another meal.

We have enjoyed old favorites such as kale salad with apples (recipe in First Post).

I have been scanning my many cookbooks for inspiration.  Deborah Madison’s volumes are a treasure.  I made two of her delicious recipes ─ one for masa crepes filled with chard and chiles ─  from Vegetarian Suppers ─

For the crepe batter:

Combine and whizz in the blender 3 eggs, 1 1/2 cups milk, 1/2 cup masa harina, 1/2 cup unbleached flour, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 3 tablespoons safflower oil or melted butter.

The filling combines sauteed onions, jalapeños, oregano, cilantro, garlic and chard.  I added some thick yogurt and grated cheese. 

The crepes are filled, folded into quarters, then fried in a little butter.

Another Madison recipe ─ scrambled eggs with corn, tortillas and salsa ─ from The Savory Way.

In a tablespoon of butter, saute a couple green onions – chopped, a handful of cilantro – chopped, and a cup of corn, fresh off the cob or thawed from frozen.  When tender, pour over four beaten eggs and scramble to your likeness.  Have ready two plates with two warm corn tortillas.  Ladle over the eggs and top with grated jack or cheddar and your favorite salsa.

 

 

Breakfast on Green Lane 1987, 48 x 66 inches, oil on canvas  (Margaretta Gilboy and Nina Goldstein Reid)

Just over a month ago we returned from a relaxing visit to Hawaii.  In our first weeks home we rushed from Boulder to Denver and back for exhibitions and artist talks.   I had been sorry to miss the opening of my late friend Maggie Gilboy’s retrospective at BMoCA and the opportunity to talk with the many friends and family who gathered to celebrate this wonderful artist.  I had my chance to honor her when Simon Zalkind, the curator, and I presented a conversation about Maggie, her life and work, as we sat in the museum amongst her paintings.

Margaretta Gilboy, Portrait of Barbara Shark 1982, 36 x 44 inches, oil on linen

Prints from Shark’s Ink. are in several exhibitions around the area. We viewed the show at 15th Street Gallery, Boulder and Bud gave a talk at Michael Warren Contemporary in Denver.  This was the usual commotion of our art life.

Hard to believe the changes in the world since then.

Bud caught a head cold and spent a couple weeks recuperating.   I got the bug and am feeling better.  With colds and physical distancing,  we needed a treat.  I decided to bake cookies only to find I had run out of flour.  Flour.  A staple around here, one that never runs out.  Until now.  And there was no flour to be found in my usual grocery stores.  I am amazed that everyone seems to be baking.  Who could predict what times like these bring about?

I did have almonds and the perfect flour-free macaroon recipe from Patricia Wells.  Simple and delicious.

Almond Macaroons

   Lightly toast 1 cup of raw almonds.  Cool, then whizz in the Cuisinart with 3/4 cup sugar until sandy and finely ground.

    Add 1/3 cup egg whites, usually from two large eggs, but do measure.  Add 1/2 teaspoon vanilla, 1/4 teaspoon almond extract, and a pinch of salt. Whizz until combined.  Drop teaspoonsful on a parchment lined sheet, an inch or two apart – they spread just a bit.

Bake at 375° for 10 -12 minutes.  Cool on a rack.  This makes about 30, 2 1/2 inch cookies.

I was left with two egg yolks and didn’t want to waste them so I made a lemon pudding for our dinner dessert.  A simple, delicious treat for two.

Lemon Pudding 

Combine 6 tablespoons sugar and 2 tablespoons cornstarch in a saucepan.  Whisk in 1 1/4 cups milk (I had 2%) until smooth. 

Add the two egg yolks, a tablespoon lemon zest and a pinch of salt. Whisk smooth.   Cook gently over medium heat, stirring, until thickened.  This took maybe 10 minutes, but watch carefully and adjust the heat to prevent scorching or boiling over. 

Remove from heat and add 1 tablespoon butter and 1/4 cup lemon juice.  Pour into cups and cool, then chill in the fridge for a couple hours.  Cover if saving for another day.

The recipe is easily doubled.  Use three egg yolks and twice the other ingredients.

(If you make the pudding and not the macaroons, you will have 2 egg whites left over.  Put them in a small jar and freeze, ready to defrost and make macaroons another time. )

Roseanne scouted out a bag of flour for me, and Bronwyn of Lyons PT dropped off a few pounds from her 50 pound stash, so I’m set for bread and treat baking during this trying time.

I hope some of you are also venturing into the tasty world of baking.  Buon Appetito!

Friends 1992, pastel on paper, ~22 x 30 inches

Someone in the neighborhood is roasting coffee.  The deep, burnt, delicious smell competes with the sweet aroma of the flowering coffee trees growing down below the lanai where I write this.  These are our last days in Holualoa and I seek to hold on to the sights and fragrance of this paradise to lighten the cold snowy days awaiting us back home.

And I want a last taste of the bounty of this place, the avocados, papayas, tangerines, coffee, bananas, limes and lemons and the fish.

The old lemon tree growing in front of the studio fell down last week.  I hadn’t been able to pick the lemons growing  high up in the thorned branches until the tree lay on its side, the Kona lemons now within my reach.  A sad sight indeed.

The lemons are large and lumpy, and very juicy.  I squeezed a few to make the base for lemonade lightly sweetened with a sugar syrup.

For some reason, I hadn’t yet baked banana muffins, a favorite made with apple bananas, small and delicately tart.  With our imminent departure, I quickly whipped up a batch to accompany our lunchtime salad.

This recipe makes a good loaf of banana bread too.

Cream together 6 tablespoons butter and 1/3 cup brown sugar.  Stir in 2 eggs, 1 teaspoon vanilla and 3 mashed apple bananas (or 2 regular). Add 1 1/2 cups flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt. Stir in 1 cup macadamia nuts (or walnuts). Bake at 400° for 25 minutes. Makes 10 muffins.

Ka Lae 2001, oil on canvas, ~40 x 72 inches

Over the years, Hawaii has provided me with many images from which to make paintings and drawings.  The drawing of Bud and Hiroki, at the top of this post, hangs in the Morinoue dining room in Holualoa.  We had dinner there a few days ago and I took great pleasure in seeing it.  One of the guests, not knowing I was the artist, commented that she had been admiring the piece. What more acknowledgement can I ask?

Fishing 1993, oil on canvas, about 60 x 40 inches

We’ve eaten a lot of fish while here, ahi, mahimahi, marlin.  Grilled at Lava Java by the sea wall down in Kona, sushi up north in Hawi at Sushi Rock and at Shiona in Kona for my birthday.  I like to sear a hunk of ahi to top a salad.

So, as we visit our favorite beach and seaside walk, bid goodbye to dear friends, and eat the last papaya for breakfast, we say aloha and mahalo to this lovely place.

Leaving Hawaii 2001, charcoal on paper, ~30 x 64 inches

Opening Coconuts 1992, pastel on paper, 20 x 30 inches  (Hiroki and Miho)

 

The enormous old avocado tree next to the house has been delivering its fruit to the doorstep here in Holualoa.  It is thrilling to find huge avocados, barely grazed from their fall, waiting to be made into guacamole and added to every salad and salsa.

Don Ed Hardy has been with us to make prints with Bud.  He’s a great help in eating the plentitude of avocados and in adding three lovely prints to the Shark’s Ink. collection.

But there are so many avocados!  After a week of this bounty, I have reconciled to discarding all but the perfect ones.  Paging through my little Hawaii cooking notebook I found several avocado recipes I had forgotten. So, for dinner with John and Debby, I made a cold avocado soup (recipe in How I Learned to Cook…), first made with Bob Kushner. Simple to make in the blender, it is a combination of one large avocado, coconut milk, yogurt, jalapeño, and spices.  Very more-ish.

I made a focaccia to serve alongside. Next came a favorite salad I make only in Holualoa ─  Papaya and Shrimp.  We eat papayas each morning here and often in a salsa or this salad.  They are a welcome addition to our Hawaii diet.

For the salad, one and a half papayas, cubed, a julienned cucumber, a pound of cooked shrimp, avocado chunks, and macadamia nuts are chilled, then tossed with the dressing:

3 tablespoons of lime juice, 2 tablespoons brown sugar, 2 tablespoons Thai fish sauce, 1/2 teaspoon Chinese chili sauce, (or a big pinch of hot pepper flakes), 2 teaspoons finely chopped ginger, 2 minced green onions, and a small handful of cilantro, chopped. 

The original recipe in Pacific Flavors called for a diced red pepper but I didn’t have one.  Serve over a bed of lettuces or spinach.

Another recipe, for an avocado chocolate pudding from my friend Cydney, awaits another dinner party.  Meanwhile, who wants guacamole?

Lunch at Greens 2008, oil on canvas, 18 x 44 inches

My new year has arrived with resolutions and menus that include dishes made with simple winter ingredients.  We received some wonderful food gifts for Christmas ─ jams and salsa from Zoë, a Spanish food assortment from James and Noriko and interesting olive oil and vinegar from sister Susan to add to the beans, grains and root vegetables of the season.

Instead of my usual habit of hoarding these special nibbles, I decided to use them without delay.  So we had grilled ham and cheese sandwiches with mustard and Zoë’s strawberry/balsamic jam.  Delish!  And shrimp and butternut squash tacos garnished with her Peach Salsa. The candied walnuts and Susan’s pecans quickly disappeared.

Included in our Spanish gift box were two jars of tuna packed in olive oil, something I have eyed in the La Tienda catalog but never ordered.  Anxious to taste it, I fashioned a tuna and bean salad, with white cassoulet beans from my Rancho Gordo stash.

I warmed the cooked beans so the dressing would permeate more completely.

Then dressed them in a combination of lemon juice, mustard, minced garlic (for garlic-allergic Jan, use a shallot), a splash of the lemon-infused olive oil, salt, and some plain olive oil.

Added two stalks of thinly sliced celery and three julienned radishes, then the broken up tuna.

I plated the salad into two servings, then garnished them with chopped parsley, dill, and shaved parmesan.  Served while the beans were still a bit warm.

At the last minute I decided to add a soft-boiled egg to each plate.  I recently learned an excellent, quick method for cooking eggs ─ steam them. (Thanks to Kenji López-Alt.)

In a  pot with a steamer basket bring an inch of water to a boil.  Add the eggs, straight from the fridge.  Steam for 6-7 minutes for a runny yolk, 9-10 minutes for a ‘hard-boiled’ egg.  I find this method fast and dependable, especially when I want a soft egg.  (I live at 6000 feet so adjust your timing accordingly.)

Serve the salad warm or at room temperature with slices of crusty bread and butter.

One of my resolutions for 2020 is to clear out the freezer and the pantry of past-their-prime foods or forgotten items.  I had a frozen tub of sourdough starter saved  for several years and wanted to see if it still had life.  I nursed it along with daily infusions of water and flour until it was bubbly and fragrant.

I used a combination of recipes and memories to concoct loaves to bake in a covered cast iron casserole.  One new trick is to do the final rise in a bowl lined with parchment.  Then lift the risen dough into the very hot casserole.  No inverting and having dough stick, or getting a painful burn.

I’ll continue to comb through my cupboards, spice drawer and the freezer for other forgotten goodies to enhance our winter meals.

Buon Appetito!

 

 

Mussels at the Beehive 2002, charcoal on paper, 22 x 20 inches

After our travels and a lovely traditional Thanksgiving with family, I have gotten into winter cooking.  I try to resist buying out-of-season vegetables and figure out new ways to cook roots, brassicas, and hearty greens.

A current favorite is bucatini with butternut squash and taleggio.  This pasta looks like spaghetti but has a tiny opening right through each strand.  It is chewy and delicious. Use whatever pasta shape you have but I recommend seeking out bucatini.

First roast a peeled and sliced (about 1/2 inch) small butternut squash, toss with olive oil, salt and pepper, at 400° for 20 minutes.  Turn and roast another 10-15 minutes until browned and tender.

Cut into bite-sized pieces (1 inch) and set aside.  Put water on to boil for the bucatini.  I figure 4-5 ounces for the two of us, but you know your appetite, so cook as much as you like.  Here on Blue Mountain Road at 6000 feet, this takes 9 minutes. While the strands are cooking prepare the other ingredients.

Sauté a thinly sliced shallot in olive oil in a pan that will hold the pasta.  Add the squash to the pan with a scoop of pasta water.  Keep warm.  Prepare 4 ounces of the taleggio – the rind should be removed and the cheese torn or cut into 1/2 inch bits. This is a soft, tangy  cheese and will melt into the pasta to make a delicious sauce.  Finely chop a good handful of Italian parsley.

Test the pasta for doneness and a nice chew.  Drain and toss with the shallots and squash, adding a tablespoon butter. Add the taleggio and top with parsley.

For a variation:  last week I had mushrooms that needed cooking so added them to the dish with a handful of toasted, chopped walnuts.  Cook the mushrooms in a hot skillet filmed with oil, do not turn or toss, let them brown. This brings out their woodsy flavor. When the mushrooms have released from the pan, add some chopped garlic and toss. Lower the heat and let cook a bit longer until tender.

A favorite dish at Basta in Boulder was their roasted vegetable salad (no longer on the menu). I used the idea to make a warm salad with veggies I had in the fridge ─ brussel sprouts left over from Thanksgiving, butternut squash, golden beets, onions and red pepper.  I peeled the squash and beets,  cut them into similar sizes, sliced the sprouts 1/4 inch thick, cut the onion and pepper into chunks, tossed with plenty of olive oil , salt and pepper.

I roasted them at 400° for 20 minutes, turned, and cooked another 10 – 15 minutes until tender.  In the last 10 minutes I added chunks of bread (large crouton size) tossed with oil and minced garlic to crisp up and provide another texture to the mix.

Squeeze a half a lemon over the veggies and serve warm or at room temperature.  If I had had any, I might have tossed in some arugula to brighten the salad, but it is delicious as is.

From left, Jennifer Doran, me, Barbara Takenaga, Fred Stonehouse, Bud, Claire Sherman, Jim Robischon

In late October, we spent a week in New York exhibiting at the Print Fair. We made time to see several exhibitions including Bob Kushner at DC Moore and Hung Liu at Nancy Hoffman, and catch up with colleagues and friends.

One night I made Bud, Roseanne and me dinner at home (Cynthia and Bob’s great loft) ─ a butternut squash risotto, and one night we invited our printmaking pal Pam Paulson to join us for an omelet supper.  Otherwise, we ate at favorite, easy restaurants such as Cafeteria and Westville.  I used  my hand surgery to be excused from making any dinner parties.  Next year.

After packing up the booth on Sunday evening we woke early on Monday to catch a flight to London to visit our dear friends Bernard and Jeannie Cohen and family.

Bernard at Canyon de Chelly  1993, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 inches; Evening in the Desert 1993, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 inches

London was damp, cool and bustling.  We stayed with Bernard and Jeannie in Camberwell and learned to navigate our way into the center of London.  We visited our old neighborhood, Kew, and the Royal Botanic Gardens and had lunch at the Maids of Honor, hardly changed in 50 years.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Visiting Kew was top of my to-do list and eating at an Ottolenghi restaurant was second.  I use Yotam Ottolenghi’s cookbooks regularly and wanted to experience his version of the food.  Bernard, Jeannie, Bud and I made a lunch reservation at Nopi, just off Regent Street.

Wow.  From the warm welcome and stylish, simple dining room  to the amazing food, we had a smashing lunch. As Bernard said, it’s rare to have a restaurant meal where everything is delicious and memorable.  We ate polenta chips (fries), cauliflower and green bean fritters, sea bream with an agrodolce and lemon yogurt garnish, squid with baby artichokes, a blackcurrant sorbet ─ like deeply flavored velvet, and  a nut brittle─ a thin cracker topped with caramel, chocolate and salty nuts.  Amazing.

Liberty of London was also on my to visit list.  Bud waited in an easy chair while I perused the stacks of fabric bolts, wondering how I could choose.  I finally picked two, one for me, one for Roseanne, realizing almost any piece would be a good one.  Now it was past lunch time and we were near Warwick Street and Nopi.  Perhaps we could score a table.

Again the gracious staff took our coats and lead us to wait at the standing bar. Fortified with a small bowl of complimentary spiced nuts we watched as others finished their meals, until a table was ready.  Our waiter, remembering us said, Weren’t you here yesterday? and we were off to another lovely lunch.

We ate green beans with freekeh and miso, roasted eggplant with a tamarind flavored yogurt (fabulous), the sea bream because it had been so delicious we couldn’t resist a repeat.  We finished with roasted pineapple accompanied by coconut ice cream and macadamia nut crumbles.  All the dishes simple and perfect ─ my kind of cooking.

After a long flight home we had time to re-combobulate and do laundry before departing for Savannah and our niece Hilary’s retirement from the Coast Guard ceremony.

 

The Splinter 2007, oil on canvas, 22 x 22 inches

Hilary flew over the hangar where her family and friends waited, dipping her helicopter in a salute while we all cheered.  Thrilling.  The ceremony was moving and funny, with her compatriots speaking of her exceptional qualities and stellar service.  She gave a wonderful speech, relating how she first became a Marine, then a helicopter pilot.  All through the ceremony were moments when I teared up, touched by the camaraderie and love being expressed.

We stayed with Bud’s hospitable cousins in the center of Savannah.  Arnold treated us to dinner at The Grey, Chef Mashama Bailey’s restaurant in a repurposed Greyhound station building.  Another memorable meal, beginning with popcorn!  And fabulous popcorn ─ dressed with clarified butter and nutritional yeast.  We ate delicious, rich, cornbread.  I ordered a turnip bisque, curious to taste this unusual restaurant offering.  Creamy, vegetal and topped with gremolata. I followed this with middlins (broken Carolina rice bits), with shrimp, a kind of southern risotto.

We’re home now, ready to settle back into our life of printing, for Bud, and painting and writing, for me.  I am inspired to try some new flavors in my winter cooking.  Stay tuned.

 

Autumn Coat 2013, oil on canvas, 18 x 18 inches

Today is sunny and warm but the forecast for the rest of the week is for cold weather, very cold, with rain and snow predicted.  My garden is unruly and overgrown as I hadn’t been able to do much over the summer with my bum hand.  I did put in tomato plants but a severe hail storm in June set them back.  They  recovered and I picked the last of them today along with a bit of basil and a handful of green beans.

 

Our friend Sally came for lunch last week and I decided to offer a last ode to summer.  I made a zucchini soup.

This is a recipe from Deborah Madison in her marvelous Local Flavors cook book.  I served the soup cold but it is equally delicious warm.  There is a mystery ingredient that makes it irresistible so read on…

First, roast a couple poblanos.  I do this over the open flame on my gas range but use whatever method you prefer.  Peel and seed them and chop into 1/2 inch squares.

Next, cut a medium sized zucchini, about 12-16 ounces, into 1/2 inch pieces.  Thinly slice a medium onion, red or yellow.  Chop the stems from a bunch of cilantro into small pieces; chop and set aside the leaves.

Saute the onion, zucchini, cilantro stems, 3 tablespoons chopped parsley, 2 tablespoons chopped mint, in 3 tablespoons safflower oil until onions are tender and zucchini limp, about ten minutes.

Add the poblanos, 2 corn tortillas torn in pieces (the mystery ingredient), 5-6 cups water or chicken stock and a teaspoon of salt. Simmer until the veggies are soft then add the cilantro leaves.  Cool then puree in a blender.  Season to taste with salt and serve, hot or cold, with a dollop of sour cream or Greek yogurt and a wedge of lime.

With the soup I served a farro and fresh corn salad, combining summer and fall tastes.  The salad included roasted poblanos, cilantro and pine nuts.  The dressing is one I frequently use with grain salads ─ juice of a lime, a finely chopped clove of garlic, a teaspoon of ground cumin, a big pinch of hot red pepper flakes, salt, olive oil.

The soup and salad were accompanied by a baguette from the St. Vrain Market (highly recommended), an assortment of cheeses and a tomato and basil salad simply dressed with salt and olive oil.

So autumn is here and my cooking begins its seasonal change. Baking has taken a turn toward recipes I associate with the cold.  Lately I’ve made  date bars and ginger snaps.

For the date bars, pit and chop about 20 dates, enough to make 2 cups.

Then make a batter with 2 large eggs, 1/2 cup brown sugar, packed, 1/2 cup unbleached flour, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt. Stir in the dates and 1 cup of broken walnuts. The dough will be stiff and thick.  Spread in a buttered 8 inch square pan and bake at 325° for 25-30 minutes until firm and brown.  Cool on a rack.

Makes 16-25 depending on how you cut them.

We have changed our bedding to a down comforter and turned on the furnace.  Sad to see summer end with the Zweck’s farm stand now closed and my garden dry and about to be frosted.  I am ready, maybe, to be inspired by autumn and winter recipes.