Quinoa, Broccoli & Cheddar Cakes

Spring is just a day away, but winter couldn't leave us without one big shebang: we should be racking up about 8-10 inches of heavy, wet snow today. And with the wood burning stove going and Jason working on our current house project, a new guest bedroom, I'm all for settling down with my laptop and taking a snow day. I love me some winter, but I'm officially waving the white flag. I'm ready for sunshine and milder temps. Fresh air and fresh greens from the farmer's market. Open windows in the house AND the car.

Lunch today wasn't anything fancy, just leftover quinoa, broccoli & cheddar cakes thrown together with some organic baby kale I had picked up the other day. And since I can't get enough avocado these days, I added some as well. It's too easy to get sucked into comfort food day in and day out during the winter, and I often need to make a conscious effort to lighten things up. Otherwise, I'd end up feeling like a giant lead weight. Not exactly what I had in mind for feeling "grounded".

Quinoa, Broccoli & Cheddar Cakes
Muffin tins are a go-to in our house, and we use them to make anything from individual turkey meatloaves to frozen tomato sauce portions. This recipe should yield approximately 10-12 muffins.

1 cup uncooked quinoa
1 egg, beaten
2 cups cooked broccoli, chopped
1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese
Salt & pepper, to taste
Muffin tin, sprayed with olive oil

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Bring 2 cups of water to a boil in a pot. Rinse quinoa well and add to water, cooking for about 12 minutes, or until they have "popped". Remove from heat, drain and rinse with cold water to stop cooking process.

In a large bowl, add cooked quinoa, egg, chopped broccoli, cheese, salt and pepper, and mix well. The mixture should be a little wet, but sticky enough to form a large meatball-size lump in your palm. Fill the muffin tin with even portions and pop in the oven for about 30 minutes until they are just starting to brown on top.

Happy last day of winter!

Dare. Dream. Create.

The other night Jason and I got together for a dinner led by an incredibly talented chef and in the company of good friends and work colleagues. Outside the snow was coming down but we were cozy laughing, swapping stories, eating and sipping wine. It was just one of those nights that was guaranteed to leave us smiling for days after.

But before dinner was even served, I was introduced to a girl that would be stepping into another dear friend and coworker's position. My thoughts immediately went to this idea of a new addition to the team, before I realized that it was a replacement. My dear friend was leaving us, spreading her wings and flying out to start the next chapter in her book and this new girl would be the new her. As the evening went on with a gourmet adventure laced with merriment, the news was still processing in my mind. She was leaving. She was going somewhere else. Oh, my heart.

In any corporate environment, this would be commonplace; a company's employee list ebbs and flows all of the time. But we are still a smaller team that works closely together to create and to troubleshoot. We vent, we support, we laugh. It goes without saying that I will miss her. But much more importantly so, I am so, so very proud of her. Life presents so many opportunities for us to take but, if we're not ready or open to receiving them, we can very well miss them. We shy away from situations that lead to growth if they present unknown situations that scare us. We don't like change, even when change is the very thing we need. We are often scared of what we don't know and that far too often keeps us stagnant in life. Simply put, we have forgotten how to dream and how to create.

As the dinner wrapped up and it was time for us to leave, I turned and let out a casual "Have a good night!" as Jason and I headed towards the door. In a split second, I saw her guard lowering. Vulnerability. Tears began to well in her eyes. We were one of the last ones out of the building and that everyday goodbye meant something more to her this time. She would be facing a bigger goodbye in the future soon and it was scaring her. We hugged. I reassured her. Goodbye wasn't going to be tonight. And because the snow was getting worse, we walked out towards the car as my heart swelled with emotion.

It's possible that she will never read this, but that hasn't stopped me from letting her know how very proud I am of her for having the courage that not many others have to take a chance, spread her wings, try something completely new (and a little scary!) and follow a dream. Well done, girl!

Until One Day Becomes Today

Several years ago, I had the opportunity to work among some incredibly talented editors for a very popular pregnancy and parenting website. During that time, I fell in love with reading through many of the members' birth stories, from the so-called easy ones to the complicated ones, TMI ones, heartbreaking ones and beyond. There is something so incredibly heart-warming about bearing witness (if only from a blog post) to such personal, transitional experiences. Perhaps it was my body's way of letting me know that I was in that child-bearing age range...or simply that whenever it was my time, I would be ready. But would I really be?

Spoiler (or-not-so-spoiler) alert: I'm not actually pregnant. But I'm married and it is a topic that comes up pretty frequently. Social media outlets don't let you forget, either, as you watch friends and acquaintances announce their transition to familydom. And while we don't feel ready at this exact moment, we know that this next big life decision is not that far off in the future. It's a very interesting feeling, when something that had always felt so far away in the vague future of your adulthood becomes part of your five-year plan. That said, the big question is...when? We're being careful to make sure there are no real surprises, but how do we picture our life as we get ready to bring a life into this world? Where are we living? What are we doing? How much money are we making? What does our saving situation look like? Have we traveled enough? And then my brain screams, "BUT THERE'S SO MUCH THAT WE STILL HAVE TO DO!!!!!"

I arrived to write this post today from reflecting on two other blog posts, the first written by a dear friend of mine. She and I worked together in NYC and have swapped wedding, marriage, baby and life advice more times than I can count. She wrote a post on her blog, Merital Bliss, about a friend of hers who was breaking down her and her husband's decision to get pregnant. And there's one especially poignant takeaway from her friend's story. It's not so much about being ready (because who is ever really 100% ready?); it's about being less NOT ready. This one brilliant idea stayed with me and I often bring it up in topic-appropriate conversations.

The second bit of food for thought that I got today was from another blog that is one of my guilty pleasure reads -- although I'm not exactly sure how it could be considered guilty. But I've laughed to it and I've sure as hell cried to it. And today, my heart smiled to it. As she recounts the birth of her third child, a new younger brother to two older sisters, she talks about how she thought she originally wanted another girl (before finding out the gender). Her words are simple but so beautiful:

"And while I thought I wanted another girl because girls are what I know, I had no idea that what I really wanted was a boy.  Sometimes you don't know you want these things until fate picks them for you.  And then you're thankful that you don't get to make all your own choices because that would be kind of selfish and boring, and you'd never get to experience your secret wants--the ones only fate knows."
-From Enjoying The Small Things

So I suppose that's kind of it. It's not today or in the near future, and I am so at peace with the present and thankful for our life right here, right now. I'm so happy that there is no feeling of rush, so we keep moving forward until one day becomes today.

Who Are You?

I often think about our words and actions, why we say and do what we do, what they mean and how they differ among the different relationships we keep. It's a very fine line we walk, with changes in rhythm, tone and inflection in our voices sending vastly different messages. But those rules apply to vocal conversations; the written word is guided by different rules. And social media is the toughest beast of all. Anyone can hide behind a screen and carelessly throw words out into the e-universe. And often enough when this happens, they don't stop to think of consequences, of whose lives they are affecting. And that is dangerous.

Recently, I received an anonymous comment on this blog that was pretty belittling and accusational in a matter-of-fact, passive aggressive kind of way. I'm not going to say what exactly was sent, but I went from being utterly shocked to angry to shocked that I was so angry. It was a pretty personal jab and it hurt. Like, hurt hurt. There were a million different responses that ran through my head that day, from snarky and right-back-atcha hurtful to holier-than-thou and kill-em-with-kindness. But at the end of the day, those anonymous words that were posted can only take meaning and shape if I let them. If I let my confidence down enough to let those words into my soul. The second I start questioning myself because of some anonymous words, I let myself down. Why would you choose to be disrespected by someone else or, more importantly, by yourself?

Which brings me to my point. Every word and action we send out into the universe becomes part of who we are. So, essentially we decide every day who we are. If someone is having trouble with their own life -- be it lack of self confidence or unhappiness in their own relationships -- I am determined to not let their troubles become mine. After all, somebody took time out of their day to track me down and post ill-intentioned words on my blog but didn't have enough self confidence to leave their name. I'm far from perfect, but I try my best to live as healthy and genuinely as I can. I can only walk away from this experience and hope that they eventually find happiness of their own.

2013: The Year Of...

When I turned 30 last year, I declared that this was going to be the year of doing stuff. My girlfriend and I were going to run more half marathons -- and actually train for them. The one in October, the Cape Cod Half Marathon, was a flop. We ran it cold turkey. (Talk about horrible preparation! Never again will I run sans training!) I was going to finally sign up for yoga teacher training (check! It starts in April -- YAY!). And...well...we were just going to do stuff. You know, the stuff you always talk about doing but never actually end up accomplishing.

Cape Cod Half Marathon in October

Jamaica, mon!

A good hearty vacation was crossed off our list as Jason and I went on our first ever real vacation together, a delayed honeymoon to Jamaica. We were honestly worried that we wouldn't know how to fully relax but that fear was squashed to bits once we touched ground in Montego Bay. For five days, we planted our butts in the sand and left them there. It was truly amazing and allowed us to empty our brains completely (save deciding on what exactly we were going to have for breakfast, lunch, dinner and all the snacks in between). We talked about life, we laughed (a lot), we smiled, we were. We also did a lot of talking about how we should be making the time in our life to travel. It's not easy, but surely we would be able to save some money and allot some time to getting away. But then we came back home to life and responsibilities. And somehow over the course of two months, I've managed to forget how I imagined it was all possible to make that time.

So as I sit here and write a post about how 2013 is going to be the year that I do stuff, I am starting to wonder exactly what the rest of that stuff is. What do I want to look back on when I prepare to greet 2014? And how do I know if I've succeeded? What does success mean to me, anyway? Is it money? Is it reaching a certain professional level? Is it finding that thing that I was meant to do in life, that true dream job?

I thought I left this all behind in my twenties. Oh, 30, you sly devil. You almost had me.

Winter Love

Those around me know my quirky love of autumn and winter. I would give up a day at the beach to be on the mountain any day, regardless of the fact that I was a summer baby. That said, I've found that one of the biggest reasons I love the colder seasons so much is that I've always looked forward to all of those outdoor activities. I started skiing when I was 5 and have always enjoyed the whole package: getting forced out of bed at an entirely-too-early time, packing everything into the car, driving up to the mountain, unpacking, and hitting the slopes. Even for a day trip -- and even when my parents expected me to carry all my own gear -- it was always such a fantastic experience.

But last year was a dud of a winter. And this year our schedule, riddled with home renovation projects, has left little time for any extracurricular activities. When you grow up skiing the North East, you know that the mid-February-into-March season can very often mean warmer days and colder nights. Which means icier trails. The point? If we don't get out now, another year will have gone by without hitting the slopes. And as I approach my second winter indoors, I'm starting to see how those who don't make time to enjoy the season can fall victim to creating a internal distaste for winter.

SO, I've resolved to make the most out of what is left of this winter. Before I know it, trees will start to bud, the temperature will start to rise and we will all open up our hearts to a new season. In the meanwhile, here are a couple of the things on my list these days:

Get outside.
Sounds pretty obvious, but sometimes this little-but-important item can slip by unnoticed before you realize that you've spent the past three months indoors. Instead of trying to get to the bigger mountains (that require planning ahead, getting the time off, reserving rooms, and a two-plus-hour drive each way), stay local. Thankfully, I've always lived fairly close to very local small ski mountains. It's not always ideal, but it's certainly better than nothing. I'm also taking advantage of a new pair of snowshoes and all of the local hiking trails in the area. One of the keys is to make sure you dress appropriately. Being outdoors and being miserably cold defeats the purpose and is just plain unsafe. Jason and I were out during super storm Nemo in full snowboarding gear and had a blast.

Get bright.
There tends to be this ginormous shift in colors in the colder months, from bright and borderline obnoxious to neutral and borderline comatose. I'll be the first to admit that creams and greys are the staple color of my closet, but I still make it a point to throw on some bright colors every now and then, if for no other reason than it made me smile. But colors don't stop at clothing. I've started buying some bright yellow tulips for our kitchen and have increased my intake of bright, fresh fruit and greens (as fresh as I can get). Kale, raspberries, strawberries, bananas, and oranges give your body a much-needed boost of vitamin-C, iron and feel-good energy.

Get hydrated.
This morning I took a look in the mirror and, once again, wondered how I was EVER going to combat my pale and flaky skin. Or at least that's how it feels. While I do drink a lot of water, during the drier winter months I'm starting to realize it may not be enough. Our wood-burning stove keeps the house warm, but the air very dry. I make sure to add a nice big pot of water for some extra humidity and don't take showers that are too hot. I've also been very careful in moisturizing, making sure to pay attention to those areas that haven't seen (and will not see) the sun in a while. It takes a little more time, but it's very worth it. I also have two different face creams, one for night and one for day, when protection against the elements is important.

So, what do you love about winter? Or, if one more snowflake is one too many, what are your favorite ways of escaping?

Harvest Time

It goes without saying that swallowing any fear and taking this leap of moving to Maine has translated into some pretty cool experiences that I might not have otherwise had had I played it safe and stayed back in New York. And often enough, it's experiences that you wouldn't necessarily think of upon hearing the word Maine.

Case in point: I work at a winery. That's right, a winery in the midcoast region of Maine, somewhere between the ocean and throngs of moose. And I had the incredible opportunity of harvesting our vineyard in late September, a week before I hit the road to get hitched.

Since this was our vineyard's inaugural harvest, the whole team met down in the vineyard for a two-day power session. It was inexplicably beautiful those early mornings. Cold, dewey, and brilliantly lush as the sun rose over the vines.

The vines had been covered with netting to protect them against hungry rascals like wild turkeys.

Cellardoor Winery, Part III - Harvest from Cellardoor Winery on Vimeo.

A Mid-Winter Recap, Part II

2012 was such an awesome year. And awesome is a word that I never use.

[Checks through past posts to see if this holds true]

Like I said, awesome is a word that I almost never use. But it's a damn good word to describe 2012. Two very cool major things happened to us. We bought a house and we got married. As I had mentioned in A Mid-Winter Recap, Part I, purchasing the house was an almost 7-month process. And certainly not an easy one. But when all was said and done, we came back from our wedding and mini honeymoon to sign all the official papers. And then he carried me over the threshold. (No, I'm not kidding. The timing was perfect so we did it, hysterical laughter and all.)

But back to the big day.

We got married at Sugarbush Resort in Warren, VT on October 7. The forecast leading up to le grand jour called for rain. Rain every day leading up to it and for a couple of days after. With an indoor ceremony and reception, I wasn't too anxious. I mean, I was marrying my love. Rain wasn't going to ruin anything.

And it didn't.

The days before were certainly soggy, but when we all woke up on Sunday morning and looked out the window, we were thrilled. For all those guests that had arrived the previous evening, driving in the dark up the winding mountain road, the mountain was ablaze in colors.

It goes without saying that the day flew by. I was so emotionally charged that it all felt like a big dream sequence to me. I'm convinced my emotions went overboard to the point that I held it together without effort all day. Kind of like being numb, but in a good way!

Here are a couple highlights from our amazing day:

Jason and I met at the top of the mountain for a first-look session with our photographer. That meant separate trips up on the chairlift so that he could be there waiting, turned away from me, when I arrived. My best friend was convinced that I was either going to lose a shoe, both shoes or my whole person. Thankfully, none of those happened. What did happen was a dramatic temperature drop. And wind. Lots of wind. This is a pretty emotional part of the day, but I will sum up our experience with a line from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, as the Griswold family stands in a desolate, snowy forest looking at their soon-to-be Christmas tree:

"She'll see it later honey, her eyes are frozen."

 

Testing the wind.

Coming back down on the chairlift.

The ceremony.

Bridesmaids, flowers and maids of honor

 

Some of the boys.

And now, our little wedding trailer video:


Daniela and Jason from Liam McKinley on Vimeo.
And then, as the evening came to a close and gave way to morning, we all gathered for brunch at the base of the mountain with the most beautiful view. It had snowed for the first time overnight. It was truly a dream come true. A skier-turned-snowboarder at heart, the snow was a beautiful wedding gift from the gods. Foliage and snow. Snowliage. Gorgeous.

A Mid-Winter Recap, Part I

It goes without saying that it's been a while since I've been here, since I've felt the pull to sit and write. I'm not sure if it's due to the fact that it's been a year and a half since writing was my actual job. As in, something I got paid to do. Like those first couple of days back outside to run after a long, dormant winter, my rhythm feels off. It feels like work. It's not coming naturally. Not yet, at least.

But as of late, I've found myself lying in bed listlessly, just about to surrender to sleep, when the sparks of thought will start to ignite. Cozy and covered under all of those blankets, I certainly haven't yet been willing to get out of bed. But it has made me wonder whether I should at least try to pick up again. Because, like running, the first bunch of days are always the hardest. Your legs feel awkward, your stamina is almost non-existent, and you're trying desperately to keep a positive attitude as you dismiss the pain and the lack of breath. Then, after going through the motions day after day, week after week, you start to find your stride, your own natural rhythm that allows your mind to wander as you just go.

So, to start things off, I figured I would give a little recap of what's been going on around these parts. Last I wrote, Jason and I were about to give a little dinner party (update: dinner party was a success!). Winter then turned to spring, and with it came mud season. That's right. In Maine, there are 5 seasons. Winter, Mud Season, Spring, Summer and Fall. On the freakishly warmer days that climbed to 70 plus degrees, we went for little hikes. 70 degrees at the bottom, as we found out, did not mean that it would be 70 degrees at the top. Thick layers of ice lined the trails and, at some points, we were forced to shimmy along the paths by grasping branches of pine trees.

Jason heading up an icy path.

Finding an opportune moment to strike a pose.

Finally at the top.

All that snow and ice eventually melted wreaked havoc on anything that wasn't paved (and somehow all the areas that were). The house that we had been renting had a dirt driveway. Thankfully, we had a garage at the end of that driveway, but going from point A to point B was a gauntlet. We soon said goodbye to that driveway, however, as the owner of the house decided to sell and that we needed to leave. After looking for alternative rental options, we started entertaining the idea of buying. While it can be true in many cases that a mortgage can be less expensive on a month-to-month basis than renting, we were still hesitant. I mean, could we end up with our first home just because we couldn't find something to rent? Yes. After nearly 7 months of dealing with banks, mortgage companies, foreclosure companies (did I mention it was a foreclosure?), et al., we were officially first-time homeowners to the ultimate starter home. Oh, how good it feels.

The ultimate starter home.

So what do we have on our hands? The house was built in 1865 is a 3-bedroom, 1-turned-1.5-bath farmhouse. We started renovating the second we were in and are now just about finishing up the master bathroom. For more information on this project, check out Jason's blog, Rebuilding Broadway.

A Maine Christmas Dinner Party

Tonight, I'm hosting my first grown-up dinner party. It something I've dreamed of for years, imagining all the fun ways I would decorate the table (I'd be my very own Martha Stewart) and all of the delicious things I would cook. There would be a lot of laughing and a lot of wine. It would be memorable. In reality, the only laughing I've been doing is out of nervousness and wine has been there to help smooth that out. I am excited, but somehow feel as though it's going to turn into Mr. Bean's New Year Party, with a bunch of chairs (complete with newspaper party hats on the seats) all facing each other in the middle of the room. Running out of hors d'ouvres would force me to grab twigs from outside and dip them in honey. If you've ever seen the episode, you know what I mean.

BUT I have hope. And wine. And a delicious meal to serve from a cookbook that I've fallen head over heels for. Jason and I did a test run earlier in the week to ensure that we could pull it off, and pull it off we did. Now we just need to do the same times three. (That means dinner for six, if you're keeping count.)

First, a little background: Coq au Vin, in short, is chicken in a red wine sauce. Traditionally it is made with rooster (coq au vin = rooster in wine). Working at winery, I was at somewhat of an advantage in that I've gotten pretty personal with some amazing wines. In fact, we're on a first-name basis. This recipe calls for a fruity, dry red and I am using Cellardoor Winery's Monti al Mare, a smooth, chianti-style, medium-body red. It offers up some wonderful flavors without being overpowering. So without further ado, here it is, the recipe for the main course of my grown-up, not-too-serious holiday dinner party:

Coq au Vin

from Long Nights and Log Fires


10 oz. shallots

3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

6 large skinless, boneless chicken breasts

3 tablespoons olive oil

5 oz. cubed pancetta or chopped thick-cut bacon

2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

1/4 cup brandy

3 fresh thyme sprigs

1 fresh or dried bay leaf

1 750-ml bottle dry, fruity red wine

9 oz. small button mushrooms

1 tablespoon butter, softened (optional)

3 tablespoons chopped flatleaf parsley

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

a large, lidded skillet


Cut the shallots into even-sized pieces, leaving the small ones whole and halving or quartering the others.

Put 2 tablespoons flour in a shallow dish and season it with salt and pepper. Dip the chicken breasts in the flour and coat both sides. Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a large lidded skillet. Add the chicken and fry for 2-3 minutes on each side until lightly browned (you may need to do this in several batches).

Remove the chicken from the pan, discard the oil and wipe the pan with paper towels. Return the pan to the heat and pour in the remaining oil. Add the pancetta and the shallots and fry until lightly browned. Stir in the garlic, then return the chicken to the pan. Put the brandy in a small saucepan and heat it until almost at a boil. Set it alight with a long kitchen match and carefully pour it over the chicken. Let the flames die down, then add the thyme and bay leaf and pour in enough wine to just cover the chicken. Bring back to simmering point, then reduce the heat, half cover the pan, and simmer very gently for 45 minutes. (If you're making this dish ahead of time, take the pan off the heat after 30 minutes, let cool and refrigerate overnight.) Add the mushrooms to the pan and cook for another 10-15 minutes.

Remove the chicken from the pan, set aside and keep it warm. Using a slotted spoon, scoop the shallots, pancetta cubes, and mushrooms out of the pan and keep them warm. Increase the heat under the pan and let the sauce simmer until it has reduced by half. If the sauce needs thickening, mash 1 tablespoon soft butter with 1 tablespoon flour to give a smooth paste, then add it bit by bit to the sauce, whisking well after each addition, until the sauce is smooth and glossy.

Return the shallots, pancetta, and mushrooms to the pan. Season to taste. To serve, cut each chicken breast into 4 slices and arrange them on warmed serving plates. Spoon a generous amount of sauce over the chicken and sprinkle with chopped parsley.

Wish me luck!

Life in Maine

It's been a while since I've been around. So many fun things have happened, new chapters of life have started, and I've been busy soaking up all the memories. In a walnut shell, I got engaged, said goodbye to my NY life and hello to a new life up in Maine with my hubby-to-be. Fresh-picked lobsters, wild blueberries, a constant ocean breeze, and no more MTA. We've traded crows in the morning for seagulls. I now work at a vineyard with incredible views and some amazing ladies. It's damn near perfection.

The switchover between chapters was incredibly bittersweet, however. I've never lived more than three hours away from home base. I'm now six plus. I miss home and family tremendously. I miss laughing with my old coworkers. (I suppose Maine life will, if nothing else, make me a better communicator.) But it's exciting and I'm learning so many different things about myself and my and Jason's relationship. I've been cooking up a storm these days since I now have a kitchen of my very own. We have access to so much locally grown produce and poultry up here that it's hard not to experiment on a daily basis.

So, to kick off my return to the blogging world, I've listed some of the recipes that are inspiring me these days:

Herb Cream Cheese Scrambled Eggs (101 Cookbooks) Get the recipe!

Crispy Potato Roast (Smitten Kitchen) Get the recipe!

Salmon With Mushroom Sauce (Food & Wine) Get the recipe!

Maple Huckleberry Coffee Cake (101 Cookbooks) Get the recipe!

♥ D

for my love and our life

Photo by Kelly Boitano Photography

so we'll live in our old van

travel all across this land

me and you

and we'll end up hand in hand

somewhere down on the sand

just me and you

just as free

free as we'll ever be

just as free

free as we'll ever be

drive until the city lights

dissolve into a country sky

just me and you

lay underneath the harvest moon

do all the things that lovers do

just me and you

just as free

free as we'll ever be

Zac Brown Band - Free

A Possible New Venture?

A tweet recently caught my eye from New York Times Dining & Wine. I clicked on the link, began to read the article, and immediately had the desire to leave work and go whip up a batch of pancakes. These were no ordinary pancakes, though. Oh no…these were Elderflower pancakes. Sound familiar? No? We are (well, were) in the same boat.

It turns out that elderflower pancakes (also known as Hollerküchle) are a traditional German favorite. And, regardless of the fact that Germany sautéed my beloved Argentina in the quarterfinal round of this World Cup, I am too excited to try out this recipe. Related to the more well-known honeysuckle, the lacey foliage of the elder plant is inserted face-down into the fresh pancake batter as soon as it hits the pan. The pancake is then either traditionally cooked only on one side (and allowing the top to simply “set”) or the stems are trimmed and the pancake is flipped. The wonderfully delightful food art happens when the rougher stems are pulled from the pancake leaving the blossoms themselves intact within the batter.

This seems like a possible weekend project, with two crucial pieces of information to note. First off, it’s mid-July and it seems elderflowers bloom in the Northeast in June. I will keep on the lookout regardless. Second, elderflowers should not be confused with poisonous Queen Anne’s Lace. Ok, got it. Queen Anne’s Lace is bad. Note to self.

Wish me luck!

Daniela

Classic Cuban Mojitos

If you’ve been in New York for the past week or so, you know about the crazy heat wave we’ve been having. And at street level in Manhattan, the temperatures seem to be multiplied threefold. The subway is a sticky mess, going out to lunch is almost unheard of, and there are mounds of wilted tourists everywhere. On any other normal summer weekend, I would typically spend time investigating refreshing dishes to serve or drinks to concoct. You can imagine my frenzy once the mercury decided to come to a screeching halt at 104°F.

In a desperate attempt to take advantage of the heat-exhausted mint from our garden, I decided it was time to resurrect my favorite classic summer cocktail: the Mojito. No frills here; just refreshing flavor. I use a wooden lemon reamer for the limes as I like the lime juice to be a little pulpy. The other end doubles as a muddler when you’re ready to crush the sugar into the mint.

Cuban Mojitos (By the Pitcher)

1 large bunch fresh mint (look for leaves that are bright green, free of scars, and firm — not wilted like those that are living through the Great Heat Wave)

1 cup organic granulated sugar (such as Florida Crystals)

10 limes, rolled and juiced, plus 1 for slicing

2 cups white rum, chilled, plus extra for adjustments

2 cups club soda, chilled, plus extra for adjustments

Ice cubes

Wash and pick through mint, setting aside three or four particularly handsome sprigs for later. Roughly remove and set aside the leaves from the remaining homely (although still spectacular) bunch; discard stems.

In a large, sturdy bowl (or mortar), add loose leaves, sugar, and lime juice. Using the back end of the reamer (or pestle), begin to muddle the mixture. The texture of the granulated sugar will allow the oils from the mint to seep out. Once the sugar is, for the most part, dissolved into the lime juice, add the rum and the club soda and mix well. Do a taste test here — the sweetness of the sugar or sharpness of the rum should not overwhelm the overall flavor of the drink. If so, adjust with club soda or extra lime juice until it meets your taste.

This batch can be made ahead of time and kept in the refrigerator for up to 2 hours before serving. Add the ice cubes, sliced limes, and sprigs of handsome mint to the pitcher just before serving. If you prefer, you can filter out the original broken pieces of mint leaves before adding said final ingredients.

Cheers!

Moutabal — A Smoky Aubergine Dip

If you follow me on Twitter, you know that I’ve been ranting about the World Cup and raving about the freshly-made baba ganoush I picked up from Moustache Pitza in NYC’s West Village. Priorities, priorities. Truth be told, Moutabal — the Lebanese equivilant of baba ganoush — isn’t a particularly complicated recipe; it just requires time enough for roasting the eggplants to the point of perfection. Perfection, in this case, being a charred skin that lends itself to the dish’s signature smoky flavor.

Belonging to the nightshade family of vegetables, eggplant is chock full of vitamins and minerals, including essential phytonutrients, antioxidants, and brain-boosting flavonoids. Coupled with extra virgin olive oil (always a winner), freshly chopped garlic, tahini, and lemon juice, this dish is great with homemade whole-wheat pita chips, especially when you just can’t seem to look another can of chickpeas in the eyes.

Moutabal

2 large eggplants (Look for those that are deep purple in color, firm but yielding slightly when squeezed, and avoid those with any tarnished spots or scars)

3 tbsp tahini (sesame seed paste)

3 tbsp freshly-squeezed lemon juice

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and smashed

2 tsp kosher salt

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, for garnish

Paprika, for garnish

Place eggplants over an open flame, be it an indoor stove top or an outdoor grill, and roast evenly until skin has become black and cracking. Once eggplants are sufficiently charred, wrap in aluminum foil and set aside to cool. Alternately, you can bake the eggplants in an oven set to 375°F for 20 to 30 minutes or until they have become completely soft.

Once they are cool enough to handle, carefully peel off the charred skin. In a food processor, add eggplant pulp, tahini, lemon juice, garlic, and salt, and pulse until well blended. Taste and adjust for salt, tahini, and lemon juice. Chill completely before serving, adding paprika and olive oil at the last minute. Not feeling the paprika? Try substituting with fresh pomegranate seeds (when in season) for a bright pop of color and a sweet crunch.

A Hearty Vegetarian Chili (That Doesn't Require a Slow Cooker...)

Like some of my previous recipes, this recipe came out of many, many miserably failed (and some not-so-miserably-failed) attempts at creating a yummy vegetarian chili that I would actually like to share. It’s really versatile, as a great summer side (or main!) and as a hearty, comforting stew for those colder months. You can also play around with the vegetables, customizing to your own personal tastes.

Vegetarian Chili

2 tbsp olive oil

1 small yellow onion, diced

4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 small eggplant, diced

1 small red or green bell pepper, diced

1 rib celery, diced

1 carrot, diced

1 jalapeño, seeded and diced

1 28-oz can crushed tomatoes

2 tbsp chili powder

½ tsp ground cumin

1 1/2 cups lentils

1 cup 7-grain mix, such as Rice Select’s Royal Blend

1 cup chickpeas, cooked and rinsed

1 cup black beans, cooked and rinsed

5 cups vegetable broth

Kosher salt (if needed)

Heat the olive oil in a large pot over a medium flame. Add onion and garlic and cook until translucent and slightly starting to brown. Add eggplant, pepper, celery, carrot, jalapeño, tomatoes, chili powder and cumin, stir well and allow to cook for an additional 5 minutes.

Once the vegetables have softened and are beginning to brown, add the lentils, grain mix, chickpeas and black beans, and stir well to ensure even coating. Add broth and mix well, bringing mixture to a boil and then subsequently reducing heat to low and simmering for about 30 minutes. Do a taste test about halfway through, adding salt (or a bit of vegetable bouillon) if needed. There is no need for stirring while the chili is simmering; just make sure to check up on the pot every now to see if you need to add some extra water.

Once the time is up (pencils down!), allow chili to sit and thicken for about 5 minutes before serving. Or, better yet, pack that baby up and serve it next day. Yes, this is one of those dishes that’s even better reheated. And don’t forget to have fun with the toppings! I like mine with shredded sharp Vermont cheddar cheese and chopped scallion greens. Ok, ok, and a dollop of sour cream. Yum!

Farro

If you’re looking for something different to serve up at dinner, take with you to work for lunch, or even to steal a couple of bites from at snack time (that’s delicious and nutritious, of course), whole grains can really add a new dimension of flavor to your typical lineup. A great source of protein, fiber, and complex carbohydrates, whole grains can be an excellent substitute for any white rice dish or even a pasta dish. Their subtle, nutty flavors and wholesome textures can add a fantastic element to any meal.

At first glance, the world of grains might be a little overwhelming. There are many different varieties, ranging from quinoa to wheat berries, and cooking times that can send some running in the opposite direction. Who has time to babysit a pot these days? The truth is, we often forget how important taking the time to cook a well-rounded meal for our families is and, too often, end up forsaking quality for convenience. Thankfully, many companies now offer premixed packages of whole grains, such as Rice Select’s Royal Blend or Kashi’s 7-Grain Pilaf. If you’re new to the world of grains, this is an excellent time to experiment. Over at 101 Cookbooks, über-chic natural chef Heidi Swanson has put together a list of some of her favorite grains, and, frankly, I agree with her choices.

The start of my love affair with whole grains began more with my mother than my father, although my father really refined the recipes. Farro, if you’ve never heard of it, is an ancient grain that is used in many Mediterranean — and, more specifically in our case, Italian — dishes. It has a hearty, earthy flavor, although it must be slow cooked in order to achieve its full potential. It can be used in stews to create heartwarming winter dishes or served cold with freshly grilled vegetables as a light, refreshing summer salad.

Looking to experiment with farro this weekend? Check out Heidi Swanson’s Farro & Herbs recipe before heading over to your local Italian market!

Buon Appetito!

D

Fish Tacos!

Fish tacos are one of my absolute favorite summer dishes. Ah, who am I kidding — fall, winter, and spring as well! After falling in love with the fish tacos from Meetinghouse Restaurant in Bedford, NY, I decided to create my own recipe. And after many failed attempts, I finally came up with a version that I really enjoyed.

An important note here is the type of fish being used: Halibut works because it is a firm-fleshed fish. While flounder and sole are some of my favorite fishes, they are a little too soft for this recipe and would not hold up in this dish. Additionally, this recipe is tasty enough on its own, but also goes well with a chipotle cream sauce — the smokiness and fiery nature of the chipotle peppers are a great balance for the sweetness of the pears and the crunchiness of the cabbage.

Fish Tacos!

Makes 4 servings

4 medium fillets wild-caught Pacific Halibut

4 soft taco-size whole wheat flour tortillas

1/4 cup whole wheat flour

salt & pepper, to taste

chili powder (or cayenne pepper), to taste

1 teaspoon light extra virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon butter

1 shallot, diced

1/2 medium red bell pepper, julienned

1 bartlett or Anjou pear, diced

1/4 head red cabbage, shredded

2 large carrots, shredded

Wash the halibut, cut into smaller slices, and set aside. Don't dry the fish completely, as the dampness will allow the flour to stick. In a shallow dish, combine flour, salt, pepper, and chili powder (or cayenne pepper, depending on how brave your spirit is. If you've never experimented with cayenne pepper, do proceed with caution.). Blend well and, one by one, evenly coat the fish with the flour mixture.

In a pan, heat the olive oil and butter over a low flame. Add the shallots and allow to soften, about 1 minute. Turn heat to medium and add peppers, sautéeing for another minute or until just beginning to soften. Add diced pear, toss, and let cook for an additional minute. Set aside.

Add the fish to the pan, making sure that all pieces are flush to the pan. You may need to add a bit more olive oil to the pan if it is a little dry. Cook for about 2 minutes per side, or until nice and browned.

Just before you're ready to serve (or have everyone serve themselves), heat the tortillas on the pan quickly on each side to really bring out the flavor. Using your hands to mold the soft tacos into a dish, add a few pieces of halibut, followed by the peppers, shallots, and pear, and then finally topped off with some crunchy red cabbage and carrots.

Enjoy!

Buckwheat Cheese Straws

It’s been a while since I’ve posted on here as I’ve been buried among the dead weight of work and winter. And, while it took some time for me to get over that winter-spring boundary line (I’m a snowboarder — this is what happens every year come March), I am completely ready to embrace spring. Winter is packed and put away — it’s time for me to come out of the dusty, stale woodworks and play. (I swear, I did not mean for that to rhyme.)

This isn’t an original recipe. Actually, I can’t say that I will be posting mainly original recipes on here — they’re not exactly easy to come up with on a full-time worker/Maid of Honor’s schedule. But it is an ode to one of my absolute favorite blog sites, 101 Cookbooks. Every time I enter Heidi Swanson’s virtual kitchen, I feel like a kid in an all-natural candy store. She's a published cook book author and an amazing photographer to boot! Seriously, each and every one of you (whoever you are) should check it out. Right now. Yes, I’m serious!

To me, these Buckwheat Cheese Straws are comfort snacking at its finest. I usually make a batch (or two) at a time and store the little “twigs” in a Ziploc bag for future enjoyment. They keep incredibly well and taste just as good as the day they came out of the oven — well, minus the heat.

So off you go, you people, baking and enjoying Heidi’s Web site.

Buckwheat Cheese Straws

1/2 cup buckwheat flour

1 cup whole wheat pastry flour

1 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

1 teaspoon fresh thyme, chopped

8 tablespoons (4 ounces) unsalted butter, cold, cut into 1/4-inch cubes

3/4 cup (2 1/2 ounces) white cheddar, shredded on a box grater

1/2 cup ice cold water

Combine the flours, salt and thyme in a bowl of a food processor. Add the butter and pulse until the mixture resembles little pebbles in a beach of sandy flour (about 20 quick pulses). Alternately, you can cut the butter in using a knife and fork. Transfer to a mixing bowl and toss in the cheese. Sprinkle with ice water and use your hands or a spoon to stir it through and bring everything together into a ball of dough. Flatten the ball into a 1-inch thick square patty, wrap well in plastic, and place in the freezer for thirty minutes.

In the meantime, preheat your oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a Silpat, and place a rack in the middle of the oven.
I find it easiest to work with one half of the dough at a time. Remove the dough from the freezer, cut in half, re-wrap the half you won't be using immediately, and place it back in the freezer. If the dough gets too warm it is difficult to work with. On a well-floured surface roll out the remaining dough into a rectangle roughly 6x12-inches and 1/4-inch thick. Use a knife to cut 1/2-inch wide strips (see photo), each about 6-inches long. Now take a strip of dough and gently pinch it all along its length so that it is easier to roll out into a straw shape roughly 12-inches long. If the dough is giving you trouble, consider chilling it a bit longer. Place each straw on the prepared baking sheet, and repeat with the remaining strips, leaving at least 1/2 inch between each straw.

Bake the straws one pan at a time for about 8-10 minutes, or until the straws look set, and the cheese is golden where it is touching the pan. Flip each straw and bake for another 2-3 minutes on the other side. Keep in mind if your straws are on the thin side, they'll bake in a flash, if they are slightly thicker they will need to go longer. Remove from oven and let cool, they will crisp more as they cool.

Sometimes I bake off half the dough, and keep the other half in the freezer for another day, but feel free to bake all of it - repeating the process with the second half of reserved dough.

Makes about 4 dozen straws.

Onion Soup Gratinée

These days the temperature in New York has been hovering around 20 degrees, with the wind chill making it feel more like single digits. Mornings have been rough to say the least, and the fireplace has certainly been kept busy. As a bustling holiday season was coming to a close, I decided to make a batch of French Onion Soup — or, as my father kept insisting, Onion Soup Gratinée.

Researching recipe upon recipe I quickly realized that, while they all matched in basic ingredients, each recipe was indeed very different from the next. Cooking onions, beef broth, Gruyère cheese and a french baguette aside, suggestions varied from white wine, red wine, sherry and vermouth to mushrooms, parsley and potato flour. Knowing my own cooking style and personal tastes, I printed out several variations and created my own recipe along the way.

Onion Soup Gratinée certainly is one of my favorite comfort foods, but I've almost always found it to be a bit too salty when ordered out. Creating this recipe gave me an opportunity to tailor its delicate flavor to my liking; likewise, you can play around with different spices and ingredients to personalize it however you like. Be aware, however, that the caramelization process is not a quick process by any means. In order to truly get that creamy onion flavor, you need to cook the onions extremely slowly on very low heat.

Onion Soup Gratinée

Makes 4 servings

2 tbsp butter

3-4 large yellow onions

Kosher salt

4 ounces dry sherry

1 bay leaf

1 quart beef stock, low-sodium

1 can (14-oz.) chicken stock, low-sodium

1/2 cube chicken bouillon

8 slices fresh French baguette

1/2 pound sliced Gruyère cheese (at least 12 slices)

4 oven-proof crocks or large ramekins

Begin by preparing the onions. Cut off both ends and then slice each onion in half lengthwise, from top to bottom. Once you have your halves, begin from one of the flattened ends and cut into thin slices. Set aside.

Go into the bathroom and dry out your eyes with a hair dryer. Stuff a couple tissues up your nose, pop a piece of gum into your mouth, put on a pair of safety goggles, and come back into the kitchen. It's ok — no one's home. If the mailman comes by, matter-of-factly explain that you're fumigating the house for dog-sized rats and that he should keep his distance. Trust me, he'll listen.

In a soup pot, coat the bottom with olive oil and set on medium-low heat. Add onions, sprinkle generously with salt, and toss to coat evenly. Add butter, toss to coat once more, cover and allow onions to cook, undisturbed, for approximately 20-25 minutes. This process will allow the onions to "sweat" and prepare them for the caramelization process.

Once the onions have sweated and released a good amount of liquid, add the sherry and cook on low heat, uncovered, for approximately 45 minutes. Check up on them every so often and you'll notice the unique golden color they begin to acquire while they simmer in their butter-and-sherry bath. Low and slow is the secret.

Now that the onions have acquired a creamy texture, add both broths, the chicken bouillon, and the bay leaf and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook for an additional 30 minutes, tasting every so often to adjust seasonings.

In the meanwhile, drizzle some olive oil in a separate pan over medium heat. Place the baguette slices in the pan and brown on both sides, sprinkling with kosher salt to taste and adding extra olive oil if needed.

Once the soup is done simmering, ladle 3/4 of the way into individual oven-proof crocks. Place two slices of toasted baguette followed by three or four slices of cheese. Place crocks in the oven and, setting to broil, allow the surface to become bubbly and slightly brown.

Remove and set aside to cool slightly before serving.