I read an enlightening column in the NYTimes last week.  Sam Anderson wrote in “New Sentences” in the Sunday Magazine about the “fleeting associations that make up a life.”  I’ve been thinking about the small thoughts that pop into my head when going about my day.

When I make tuna salad I picture Clare Forster conscientiously breaking the fish chunks into mayonnaise until she had a homogeneous combination.  The smell of diesel sends me back to a London street and the sound of the wind in our ponderosas puts me up in the branches of a pine tree at my family home in Iowa where I closed my eyes and longed for the forests of Colorado.  As the Times writer noted, we have almost no control over these associations. These reminders are precious, popping up as I work in the kitchen, garden or studio.

Last week I decided to make baked eggs for dinner.  This dish always brings the memory of my dear friend Maggie Gilboy into my kitchen.  She made these for me as we shared breakfast on the porch at Parnassus, her mountain cabin, or around her Englewood table.  She always said, “This is Moira’s recipe,” but I know she altered it to her taste, as have I.

First I sauteed half a chopped onion in a tablespoon of olive oil and a teaspoon of butter.  (Sometimes I use a couple of shallots instead.) I added diced ham cut from a 1/2 inch thick slice and let that brown.  In went a handful of parsley. I arranged the combination in three baking cazuelas.

I cracked two large farm eggs into each dish, topped with a couple tablespoons of grated Catamount and a sprinkling of parmesan.  These baked at 375° for about 15 -20 minutes until the whites of the eggs were firm but the yolks still soft. Meanwhile I cooked asparagus in my preferred method ─  boiled in a skillet for 3-4 minutes in water to just cover.

And with some crusty bread to accompany the dish, dinner ─ or breakfast ─ is ready.

Top: Parnassus Geisha, charcoal and pastel on paper, 60 x 36 inches

We have had several days of rain and clouds, fog and hail. Coloradans welcome this moisture but after three days we’re ready for sunshine.  Tortilla soup is my sunny exclamation for a grey day.

I started by making a chicken stock with chicken backs I had cached in my freezer along with various vegetable trimmings ─ leek tops, fennel fronds, celery stalks, carrots. This cooked for the morning, giving the house a warm, savory scent.  When the stock had cooked for several hours I added two boneless chicken breasts and poached them for 30 minutes, until tender.  I removed them to cool and continued cooking the stock.

Next, I prepared the tomato base.  I sauteed a chopped onion in canola oil until translucent, adding 5 or 6 chopped garlic cloves at the end.  I pureed these with a 14.5 ounce tin of crushed tomatoes and a tablespoon of chipotle puree.  I fried this mixture in a tablespoon of oil until it darkened then added it to six cups of my strained chicken stock.  This is the soup.

For the garnishes:

I shredded the chicken into bite-sized pieces and roasted two poblanos over the open flame on my stove, then peeled off the blackened skin and cut them into strips.

A delicious part of the dish is the crispy tortillas.  I cut six tortillas into 1/2 inch pieces then shallow fried them in oil until crisp.  I drained them by shaking in a brown paper sack.  It was hard to resist a taste of these morsels!

Additional garnishes were avocado chunks, grated cheese (I used Catamount, cheddar or Jack are also tasty) and chopped cilantro. In large bowls, I stacked up portions of these ─ chicken, cheese, chilés, avocado, broken tortilla strips, cilantro.

I poured the boiling hot soup over each bowl and served them with lime wedges and additional tortillas on the side to add as desired.  You’ll want more!

Top: Lunch in Sausalito, oil on canvas, 18 x 44 inches

(Bud Shark and Cydney Payton)

I recently signed up for the Rancho Gordo bean club.  Sounds goofy but they sell the best dried beans around.  I will receive six pounds of a variety of beans every three months. So I better start cooking.  Often, I prepare beans to accompany Mexican food or a buffalo steak, but Italian preparations are another great way to use them.

I had a bunch of chard in need of cooking and some hot Italian turkey sausage in the freezer, just the ingredients to go with the pot of Alubia Blanca beans. First, I sauteed a sliced onion in olive oil, then added the chopped chard stems and let them cook until tender.  No need to discard them ─ they are a delicious addition to a dish, adding a slight crunch to counter the silky cooked leaves. And the red stems add a welcome note of color.

Next I added two crumbled Italian sausages and cooked until they browned.  I stirred in a couple cloves of chopped garlic and a pinch of hot red pepper flakes.  Then I piled on the shredded chard leaves, covered the skillet and let them wilt.  Two cups of cooked beans went in next with some of their cooking liquor. I cooked this for several minutes to blend all the flavors then served up the dish in our new bowls from the pottery studio of Thea Tenenbaum and Lele Malferrari.  A good bit of grated parmesan and some chopped Italian parsley went over all.

To go with this savory and succulent dish I made a salad with asparagus and oranges.

This is how I always prepare citrus fruit to go in a salad ─ cut the peel off close to the fruit, removing all the pith, then slice.  Sometimes I pull the segments from the membrane to make little orange supremes. Later, squeeze the peel over the salad to use all the yummy juice.

I cooked half a pound of trimmed asparagus by laying it in a large skillet with water to just cover and boiling for two minutes. Then I cut each stalk into two inch pieces.  I sliced three or four leaves of red lettuce into ribbons and minced some fresh dill.

Tossed this with olive oil, orange juice from the peel, salt and pepper. I had some toasted sunflower seeds to strew on top, along with some grated orange peel.

Buon Appetito!

Top: Cooking in Sayulita, oil on canvas, 30 x 54 inches

 

Each spring,  the rhubarb in my garden re-emerges in a glorious whorl of stalks and leaves. Last Sunday I cautiously picked a  bunch to make rhubarb muffins.

Several years ago, I was preparing a dinner party and planned to make roasted rhubarb and strawberries for dessert.  As I picked rhubarb from the vigorous plant growing next to my compost pile, I was bitten by a small rattlesnake hidden in the tight mass of stalks.  Now, I am cautious and poke into the plant with a stick  to be sure no unwelcome creature is hiding there.  After my encounter, I reclaimed the plant by making the above painting.

These muffins were inspired by those we once had at Xoco, a Rick Bayless breakfast spot in Chicago, where we exhibited annually at ArtChicago.  The combination of anise, corn and vanilla intrigued me and I figured out a recipe when we got home. Here it is:

First, with caution, pick the rhubarb, then clean and cut  into 1/2 inch bits ─ enough for two cups.

 

 

 

 

 

For the muffins:

Combine 1 cup of cornmeal and 1 cup of unbleached flour with 1/2 cup brown sugar, 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1 teaspoon anise seeds.

Stir in 1 cup of milk, (whatever you have ─ even unsweetened almond or soy milk), 6 tablespoons canola oil, 1 large egg and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla. Add the rhubarb. Fill muffin cups 3/4 full with the batter, distributing the rhubarb chunks evenly.  I like to pour the batter into buttered cups in order to get a nice brown crust.  Use muffin papers if you like.  Bake at 400° for 20 minutes.  Let cool on a rack for a few minutes before unmolding.  These are a bit delicate.  This makes 12-14 muffins.

While preparing the muffins my mind wandered to other recipes that include anise. Look for the Bizcochitos and Lisa’s Almond Biscotti recipes in How I Learned To Cook, An Artist’s Life.

Another great match with anise seed are these golden beets.

I steam whole beets until tender for about 30-40 minutes, depending on their size.  When cool enough to handle, I peel them and cut into batons about 1/2 inch wide.  For three medium beets, I add the juice and zest from 1/2 a lemon, a little salt, 1/2 teaspoon anise seed and a tablespoon or two of olive oil to the warm beets. Taste and adjust the seasoning. These are a great addition to a salad or alongside a sandwich or a spinach quiche.

For our Sunday lunch I prepared a salad to go with the rhubarb muffins.

I had cooked some Alubia Blanca beans from Rancho Gordo and combined a cup and a half of them with a vinaigrette made of red wine vinegar, salt and pepper, olive oil, a big pinch of hot red pepper flakes, the zest of 1/2 a lemon and chopped parsley. If your beans are cold, warm them a little before marinating.  Canned beans are okay but nothing like the Rancho Gordos.

For the salad, I combined some wild arugula (sprouting everywhere in my garden) with torn butter lettuce leaves, avocado chunks, a little diced salami, and halved cherry tomatoes.  I dressed this simply with olive oil, salt, pepper and lemon juice.  The beans went into the center of the greens and I crumbled some feta over all.  And there was lunch.

Top: Spring Rhubarb, oil on canvas, 18 x 18 inches

Last week flew by in a rush of work.  Artist Mildred Howard was here and spent seven days working with Bud on new monoprint/collages.  She is a good cook so we have much in common ─ art and food.  I enjoyed cooking for her and didn’t run out of ideas.  Whew!

Each morning we ate our usual granola, fruit and yogurt.  For lunches I prepared salads.  One day I had no time to get into town for  supplies so I raided my pantry for beans, from Rancho Gordo of course, and the freezer for shrimp. (Using what food I have is a challenge and a pleasure.)

To arugula and torn lettuce leaves I added halved cherry tomatoes and julienned radishes.  I tossed this with a tablespoon or two of olive oil and a good squeeze of lemon, salt and pepper. There were only nine large shrimp  in the freezer ─ luckily nine is divisible by three! After broiling them in the toaster oven, I halved them lengthwise.   The warm beans were dressed with olive oil, lemon juice and a good bit of lemon zest. I crumbled feta over the salad and added a boiled egg to each dish for extra protein.

By Friday, we were all pooped after the intense work week.  Mildred flew back to Oakland and a busy weekend; Bud and I took a nap and watched a movie.

Then on Sunday we celebrated our friend Larry’s birthday with a lunch party.  Six of us sat around the table and told stories, drank champagne and laughed a lot.  I had decided to make a variety of tapas for the meal and the table was loaded with dishes.  There were tuna empanaditas:

And roasted red peppers.  Stuffed mushrooms and grilled artichokes and asparagus.  Roasted potatoes with a spicy Spanish tomato sauce. Cheese, including the delectable Nuage, ripe and creamy. Olives, white anchovies, salami, and bread from the St. Vrain Market in Lyons, where they bake a delicious baguette tasting like no other.  Arugula and endive salad with pears, and to top it all off, a wonderful chocolate tort made by Roseanne. A new friend, Françoise,  brought homemade chocolates flecked with gold.

I was so busy cooking, then eating, and enjoying our guests that I forgot to take pictures.

Here are recipes for a couple of the things I made:

Stuffed Mushrooms

This is a versatile recipe ─ add whatever sounds good ─ crumbled, cooked sausage ─ chorizo or Italian, cooked spinach, ricotta etc.

Start by cleaning large mushrooms, white, cremini, or portabello. Cut off the dry end of the stem and a bit off the edge of each to make a flat surface. (If using portabellos, remove gills and throw in the compost.)  Finely chop the trimmings and the stems. If the trimmings are meager, chop up a couple whole mushrooms.

Mince a small onion and saute in butter or olive oil until translucent.  Add the mushroom trimmings and cook until tender, then add a chopped clove of garlic and cook a minute.    Let cool a bit then mix in fresh goat cheese.  For a pound of mushrooms I used about half a small log. I added fresh chervil, an early spring arrival in my garden. Chives, basil, mint, thyme or parsley would also be good. Stir in a couple tablespoons of panko or other breadcrumbs.

Sauté the caps in olive oil until browned.  Arrange in a baking dish, then pile the stuffing on each. Top with grated parmesan and a few more crumbs.  Drizzle a little olive oil over the mushrooms. Bake at 350° until brown, about 20 minutes.

Grilled Artichokes

Once we had eaten these it was hard to go back to a simple, boiled artichoke.

First, prepare the artichokes by pulling away the small or wilted leaves at the base.  Peel the stem if you like.  Cut in half and scoop out the choke.  Drop into a big pot with plenty of boiling water and cook until just tender, 10-15 minutes. (Or steam.) Test with a skewer or small knife. Drain and brush with a little olive oil, salt and pepper.  Grill, cut side down, for 10 minutes.  Watch so they don’t burn.  Serve with a vinaigrette made with red wine vinegar, minced garlic, salt, pepper and olive oil.

Happy Spring and Buon appetito!

Top: Mildred Howard, Incontro con Casanova: il potere dell’ Altro, 20 3/4 x 17 inches

(Meeting with Casanova: the power of the Other)

 

 

 

 

I am happy to announce that my book, How I Learned To Cook, An Artist’s Life, published by Baksun Books, Boulder, is available for purchase.  It is a memoir/art book/cookbook with 85 illustrations of my paintings and drawings, 105 recipes and costs from me (send a message) $45 plus $5 shipping. Also available at the Boulder Bookstore and on Amazon.

Last Saturday afternoon the Pattern Shop Studio in Denver, where my exhibition, About Time, is on view until May 4, hosted a book release and artist’s talk.  It was a lot of fun to see old friends and acquaintances, even some new faces.  Artist Mildred Howard is here to work with Bud on new prints and arrived in time to come with us to the talk.  My sister-in-law, Jan Frisch, made a special trip from Minneapolis and Rodney and Renee Carswell drove up from Santa Fe to be part of the festivities. Of course, Bud, Zoë and my sister Susan and husband Charles were there too. Yeah and many thanks to all who attended.

As part of the event, I made several treats for our guests.  Two of the cookies I baked are included in the book ─ Jan’s Biscotti and Lemon Bars.

I made Spicy Nuts, (also in the book) a favorite nosh.

The other cookie I baked is from the China Moon Cookbook by Barbara Tropp.  She wrote recipes from her long gone restaurant in San Francisco and the cookie recipes by Amy Ho are stellar.  Any one would do, but I chose a favorite, Ginger Moons.  I make these in my Cuisinart, but you could use a mixer or do it by hand. My method of forming the cookies is different from the original recipe.

Cream together 1/2 cup unsalted butter and 1/2 cup brown sugar.

Add 1 tablespoon of fresh ginger, finely minced, 1 tablespoon powdered ginger, 1/4 cup crystallized ginger, finely minced, and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla.

Mix in 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons unbleached flour, 1/4 teaspoon baking powder and a pinch of salt.

Roll the dough into two logs, about an inch-and-a half in diameter.  On a sheet of waxed paper, roll the logs in turbinado or another coarse sugar.  Wrap them up and chill about an hour.  You can also freeze the logs for baking later. Defrost a bit in order to slice.

To bake, slice into 1/4 inch pieces and arrange on a baking sheet lined with parchment , an inch apart ─ they spread just a bit.  Bake at 350° for 12 minutes.  Cool on a rack.

Buon appetito!

Book cover: Self-Portrait in Iris 1991, pastel on paper, 41 x 30 inches

 

Some days, I feel uninspired and tired of cooking.  These are the days we have breakfast for supper. I had bought fresh farm eggs from Steamboat Mountain Natural Foods in Lyons, a complete organic market shoehorned into a modest space.  And I was hungry for blueberry muffins, who knows why, but I had a yen.  Omelets and muffins for dinner.  Easy, peasy.

First the muffins.  This recipe is minimally adapted from A Complete Book of Breads, by Bernard Clayton.

I particularly like the lemon zest in the batter and the small amount of sugar.  There is a sugar topping but the muffins are not overly sweet.

Combine  2 2/3 cups unbleached flour, (I added 1 tablespoon wheat germ to the bottom of each cup when measuring the flour), 1 tablespoon of baking powder, (a scant tablespoon at our altitude), 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1 teaspoon salt and a tablespoon of lemon zest.

Add 2 large eggs, 1 cup of milk, and 2/3 cup canola oil.  Stir to combine then fold in 2 cups of blueberries, fresh or frozen.  Fill 16 buttered muffin cups about three-quarters full and bake at 400° for 25 minutes until brown and firm.  Cool for 5 minutes.

Have ready in a small skillet or pan, 3 tablespoons of melted butter, and a small dish of sugar.  I used turbinado sugar for the crunch.  Dip the top of each muffin in butter, then in the sugar.  Cool on a rack.

Since this makes 16 muffins, I usually freeze some.  Reheat in an oven or toaster oven at 350° until thawed and warm.

To fill out the menu (I really only wanted the muffins) I included some roasted potatoes and roasted asparagus.

I cut 2 Yukon Gold potatoes in spears and tossed them in a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper.  I had half a sweet potato so threw that in.  After roasting at 400° for 15 minutes I turned the potatoes and cooked for another 15 minutes.  I added the asparagus, tossed with a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper,  for an additional  7 minutes.

Just after I put the asparagus in the oven I prepared the eggs to make omelets.  In each of two small bowls I combined 2 eggs with a tablespoon of chopped fresh dill and and one of cilantro.  I beat the eggs and herbs with a bit of pepper and salt, then one at a time, poured them into an omelet pan in which I had melted a couple teaspoons of butter.  I cooked them to our liking, just a little runny in the center.  Each omelet was rolled out onto a warm plate and dinner was served.  Buon appetito.

Top: Breakfast on Blue Mountain Road, oil on canvas, each part 30 x 36 inches.

(Jeannie Cohen, Bernard Cohen, Jerry Brody, Jean Brody)

 

 

On days I spend in Boulder I often bring home salmon for dinner. Bud will grill it on our gas Weber and all I need to add to the menu are some veggies. This morning in preparation, I put together a roasted cauliflower salad.

I cut up a cauliflower into 3/4 inch slabs, poured over about a tablespoon of olive oil, sprinkled with salt and pepper and roasted in the oven at 400° on my wonderful grill pan.  I must give a plug for this All-Clad pan.  I use it often to grill vegetables. It is foolproof and roasts to perfection.  I include the tiny bits of cauliflower that fall off when I cut the slabs.  They get crunchy and provide another texture in the salad.  I roasted the cauliflower for 15 minutes then turned, (you will be glad you have big pieces). Cook another 10-15 minutes, until browned and tender.  Cut the slabs into mouth-sized pieces  and toss in the vinaigrette.

In a serving bowl big enough for the cauliflower, combine a generous tablespoon of rough, whole-grain mustard, the kind with seeds, and a tablespoon of red wine vinegar.  Slowly add about a 1/4 cup of olive oil.  Dump the warm, cut up cauliflower into the bowl and toss.

Add 8-12 green olives, cut in half.  I use a Spanish olive stuffed with anchovy, but Castelvetrano or your favorite green olive will be delicious.  Green olives have the perfect sharp, pungent taste to contrast with the cauliflower.  Just before serving at room temperature, add a handful of toasted, chopped hazelnuts.  If you add them too soon they will lose their crunch, a nice note in this dish. I usually add a good handful of chopped Italian parsley but didn’t have any today.  I make this ahead of our meal and leave at room temperature.  If that makes you nervous, refrigerate but be sure to remove well before eating.

First thing when I returned home to our hillside refuge after my busy day in town, I set the oven to 400° in preparation for roasting sweet potatoes. My sister Susan turned me on to this fabulous method.  She cautioned me, though, that these sweet potatoes are addictive.  Her husband Charles kidded her,  “are we going to have these Every night?”

Susan uses a spiralizer to prepare the sweet potatoes but I use the grating disk on my Cuisinart.  After shredding, (no need to peel), I tossed the potatoes with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, added salt and pepper, and spread on my grill pan, (or use any baking sheet with sides).

I roasted them for about 15 minutes, while Bud heated the grill, then stirred them up and added asparagus to one side of the grill pan.  The veggies finished roasting while Bud cooked our salmon ─ about 8 more minutes.  Dinner is served.  Buon appetito!

Top:  Dinner at the Gateway, Oil on canvas, 60 x 36 inches (Noriko VanDyk and Nick Helburn)

April 2, 2018

Yesterday was a cold, grey day and I was in the mood for some spice. Deep red, fragrant New Mexico chilé fit the bill.  In the fridge were a leftover roasted sweet potato, a head of fennel and a half dozen large mushrooms, a good combo for veggie enchiladas.  I sauteed a yellow onion in olive oil, added the sliced fennel, each lyre shape cut into strips.  When they were tender and a little caramelized I added the sliced mushrooms and let them soften.  Next two chopped cloves of garlic and the cubed sweet potatoes went in .

Now for the chilé.  Ta-da. This is in my book, a recipe gift from Rod and Renee Carswell, artist pals from college and wonderful cooks.

In a tablespoon of safflower oil sauté a minced clove of garlic until fragrant but not colored.  Add a tablespoon of flour and cook for a minute.  Add 1/4 cup of New Mexico red chilé then stir in a cup of water or chicken or veggie stock. I find water to work well, not disguising the chilé flavor.  Stir until smooth and let cook for ten minutes or so, adding another cup of water as the sauce thickens.  Add a few tablespoons of the chilé to  the vegetables.

Now the corn tortillas.  They need to be softened for folding.  I used a comal, a flat iron disk that heats quickly.  Use whatever heavy skillet you have.  I lightly brushed the tortillas with oil then heat on each side until pliable.  As each tortilla was ready, I arranged several tablespoons of the filling along the center with a slender finger of cheese.  This time I used Catamount Hills ─  cheddar or Jack are good or whatever you have. Smoked cheddar is particularly delicious here.  I rolled the tortilla around the filling and placed in the casserole, tucking each close to the others.

If not baking the enchiladas immediately, cover and store without the sauce.  Otherwise, ladle the chilé over the enchiladas, top with a little grated cheese, cover with foil and bake at 350° until hot and bubbly, about 30 minutes if at room temperature to start.  Otherwise allow an additional 10 minutes or so.  Uncover the dish for the last 10 minutes.

I love cilantro, so strewed a good handful over the finished dish. The beautiful ceramic casserole was made by my sister Susan Hopkins, a pottery neophyte.  She learns fast!

I served a small salad ─ the inner remains of a head of Bibb lettuce, sliced into ribbons,  chopped jicama and radishes, chunks of avocado and a sliced orange.  Dressed simply with salt and pepper, olive oil, and a good squeeze of lime juice.

Buon appetito!

Top: Salad 2013, oil on canvas, 18 x 18 inches