berry season!

Here in Virginia it has been raining like it is going out of style. It’s been a little bit of a drag for summer outings, but it has been GREAT for the wild berries that are suddenly growing absolutely everywhere! Steve, my sister, and I have been picking them like maniacs. We’ve seen neighbors out noshing, and birdies, and no doubt all sorts of nocturnal creatures are indulging in them as we sleep and STILL, there are SO MANY! Nature can be so generous!

Let’s think about how overpriced berries are at the grocery store, huh? High fives all around when we can pick them in the wild! Sure, there’s a lot of sweating… and there are brambles, so you should really wear longer legs and sleeves on your clothes… which is just as well since there’s also a lot of poison ivy around. Still, it’s FREE NINETY NINE!

Here’s the work of, oh, half an hour? (With, yknow, a little of the yield skimmed off the top in the form of snackage in the field)

   

Shining like beautiful jewels! The raspberries are quite abundant and the blackberries are still coming into season. So. stoked.

 

Steve and I spent a really adorable afternoon walking in the sunshine picking berries and then getting hilariously soaked when the aforementioned crazy rain appeared once again. Apparently it wetted my camera, which ruined the next few pictures. Blurry though they are, I have to share this fab breakfast.

We begin with:
- Wonderful farmer’s market yogurt
- Whole flaxseeds
-Rolled oats
-Almond butter

  

Then atop, you guessed it, big handfuls of ripe and delicious raspberries! Note: the berries are delicious but a bit tarter than the ones you’d find at a grocery store. They’re also a little seedier. I think this makes for a wonderful texture in yogurt bowls but I found it unpleasant when I added them to a smoothie. Just FYI.

 

Hanging out in a bowlful of dry rice restored my camera. Phew!

Something I’ve done twice now with these beautiful berries is make a beautiful pie!

And, shocker of shockers, I have a RECIPE! A legit RECIPE! For the first time in MONTHS! It’s adapted from Mark Bittman, natch, but I put enough tweaks on it that I can call it my own.

Berry-Buttermilk Pie
Adapted from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, by Mark Bittman

1 pie crust (I used a packaged one we had leftover, which is why it looks so BUSTED. The traditional pie crust was great, but you can also do a crumble type crust. See below for variation)
3/4 cup buttermilk
3/4 cup half and half
3 eggs plus 1 egg yolk
1/2 cup minus 2 T sugar
pinch of salt
heaping 3/4 cup of your choice of berries (I used a mix of raspberries and blackberries)

Generously poke the bottom of the pie crust with a fork, then bake the empty pie crust at 350 degrees for 10 minutes, until just lightly golden. Let it cool a bit while you prepare the filling.
Meanwhile, whisk together eggs, egg yolks, salt and sugar in a large bowl. [Tip: my pastry chef cousin taught me something important. Don’t dump the sugar on top of the eggs, or it’ll cause the eggs to get all clotty and coagulated. Instead, whisk continuously and gradually add the sugar as you whisk.]
Then, in a saucepan, heat together buttermilk and half and half on low heat until they begin to steam. Remove the pan from the heat. Add a small ladleful of the hot buttermilk mixture into the bowl with the eggs and whisk vigorously until combined. Then pour the egg mixture into the pan with the rest of the buttermilk mixture.
Get your pie crust, and scatter the berries all around the bottom, in an even layer. Then pour the buttermilk filling on top. NOTE: you will have more of the custard mixture than you need for the pie unless you are using a deep dish pie dish. You can put this mixture into ramekins and make custard at the same time as the pie if you wish. Pour the buttermilk mixture into the pie crust, on top of the berries, only until it is about 1/2 an inch under the top of the pie crust. Do not add any more than this or it will be impossible to get the pie in the oven without spilling, plus it’ll rise over the top.
Carefully put the pie in the oven and bake for about 40 minutes, until the middle is mostly but not quite set (it will cook a little after you remove it from the oven).

    

Note that when I made this beautiful fresh pie a second time, I used only raspberries (because the particular field I was picking in that day did not yet possess ripe blackberries). For the filling, I was lazy and out of eggs so I used Bird’s custard powder to make the custard. Howeeeeeeeeever, for the crust I kicked it up a notch and made a homemade crust. I’m kicking myself for not measuring, because it was wonnnnnnderful, but it contained approximately:
- 2 handfuls of walnuts
- 1 big tablespoon of cold butter
- 1 tablespoon or so of white sugar, plus another 1 or so of brown
- say 1/3 of a cup of oats?

I prebaked it in the same manner, then filled it, and WOW it was good. It had the texture and richness of those crumbly raspberry bars, but it wasn’t too sweet and it had the creamy custard and… mmm… Just it was good. Just trust me.

The day I made the pie was a crazy day because I saw not one but two of my friends’ babies! And by my friends, I mean my peers! One I’ve known since 7th grade, one since 9th! First I enjoyed salads at Sweetgreen with my friend Lauren, who had a sweet little girl named Aimee about six weeks ago. Then for dinner, I joined my friend Virginia, whose wedding I posted about in this blog, and her family. She has a 15-month-old named Charlotte (who’s walking and chatting and an absolute joy to be around) and is pregnant with her second child (!!!!!!!!!)

This is all a long way of saying that I told her to eat lots of pie because it had walnuts in them and omega-3’s are good for developing babies.

Back to the original pie. Original piecrust. My family thoroughly approved of this goodness.

It was delicious. Due to it being (vaguely) red, white, and blue, I brought it to the fourth of July celebration with my family. We enjoyed it after this fab dinner:

My once-a-year hot dog, corn on the cob, Georgian beans, a giant pickle, and the most exciting thing to the lower right hand of the plate. I’ve had papas huancaina, a heavenly Peruvian spicy potato and egg dish at La Limena, a Peruvian restaurant in Rockville and then made at potluck by my Peruvian friend David. Well, my aunt tried her friend’s version and loved it too, obviously. So she took a stab at it and PEOPLE OF THE WORLD: you have to try papas huancaina. My aunt is proof positive that one can google it and find a scrumptious recipe.

As usual, this blog post is all over the place with its train of thought. Returning to the wild fruit with which it began, I inquire the group: are these wild grapes?

They were growing on the same path as the berries. We aren’t complete lunatics and didn’t eat any, but we did break them open.

Any horticultural experts out there?

high stakes meat and potatoes

So the title sounds a little oxymoronic, no?

Let me explain: for whom was I making this meat and potatoes?

Boyfriend’s parents.

First time cooking for boyfriend’s parents.

Guys. Cooking for people is what I DO. Without making people food they like, how can they like me? They cannot.

So.

I prepped. I like… chopped things in advance, not when the stove was smoking (though full disclosure, I did put a kitchen towel on a hot burner and it did catch on fire… Steve was a boyfriend and ran outside with it so as to prevent a smoke alarm situation).

I also, as is often helpful in stressful situations, made a to-do list. Erin (yo girl) and I last year would both not only have epic to do lists, we’d have multiple to do lists. The holy sh** I have to get this done TODAY to do list and the Long term things that cause me stress but may never get done list.

This was all doable :D (Guys, in case you haven’t picked up on it, there is some sarcasm. I still like cooking, promise!)

Furthermore, Steve was exceedingly helpful at getting me anything I might need (we were cooking at his place).

Anything I might need, wherever it might be.

He also suggested that I join him for a hot cocoa break, which I respectfully declined, but did take note of his rather interesting, some might say risky methodology which involves mixing cocoa and water together cold, then putting the marshmallow on top, then microwaving everything.

I was sure of a microwave explosion, but just as I was mildly taunting him about his marshmallow looking like it was going to blow over the top, he threw open the door and pulled out perfect hot cocoa. So there you go.

Also, if like Steve you are an avid environmentalist and are reluctant to use any sort of climate-altering machinery in your apartment (which is why I’m RAWTHER cold when I’m there these days), it means that in the steamy summer months, the marshmallows you bought for a spring camping trip will cease to be individuals and instead become a molten marshmallow mass.

     

Okay, so let’s talk meat and potatoes.

Steve’s dad is the kind of person who likes his steak with salt and pepper. That’s it. Steak seasoning is pushing it. Chimichurri would be heresy. I sort of admire that kind of purity in cooking. Get a good raw ingredient and don’t mess with it.

So, okay, I didn’t have the confidence to make a steak but I can make a damn good roast chicken thanks to the Zuni Cafe method (just Google it!).

You salt or brine the chicken overnight (I prefer to brine it, in a ratio of 4 cups water to 2/3 cup salt), then pat it dry, season it with pepper (I like fresh herbs at this point but the guest is king so I omitted them!), and preheat a cast iron skillet. You sear it on down in that skillet, chuck it in a hot oven, flip it periodically, and wait til it’s done.

And it’s per.fect. It’s the best roast chicken ever.

Being rather frazzled by the cooking, I told Steve he was a boy and therefore it was his job to carve the chicken. He did pretty well!

They also got a drizzling of the pan juices, slightly (but not excessively) defatted. Steve requested that I save him the chicken fat… since he loves it for cooking fried rice :D Though that was unfortunate cause then my elbow knocked over the chicken fat can and it was a whole… situation.

Anyway, beautiful chicken:

All you young lovers seeking to impress the parents of your beloved, Zuni Cafe roast chicken is your best friend.

For a side dish, Steve had requested roasted kohlrabi but we couldn’t find any at any normal grocery stores (and hadn’t had the foresight to buy it at the farmer’s market a week earlier). Then he’d wanted me to make my brussels sprouts (which frankly made me more than a little nervous since hello?! So many people hate brussels sprouts!) but those were out too. So then he got asparagus. And I was like “Uh, I’m trying to cultivate an autumnal thing here.”

But he’d also bought potatoes, because he wanted a nice safety vegetable that he knew his parents would like. Meat and potatoes.

So I smiled sweetly, cut up potatoes, drizzled on some olive oil (from Steve’s toddler-sized container, good grief!), and just salt and pepper. While I was doing this, Steve nervously went, “Don’t add rosemary or anything, okay?” Yes, okay!

They were good. Potatoes with… salt and pepper. Kind of nice to eat something so plain and comforting. And roasting potatoes is great because you get the richly flavored crispy outside and the tender inside.

 

When the meat and potatoes were completed, I finally, FINALLY, got a little chance for some self expression. A constantly going hot oven meant space to roast, in batches, sliced butternut squash; sliced apples; and squash seeds soaked in Worcestershire sauce and garlic powder.

Over bitter greens, they made a pretty gorgeous salad.

 

I also made a dressing that included olive oil, lemon juice, Worcestershire, soy sauce, honey, dijon mustard, and cinnamon. It was quite lovely.

Annnnnnd because though I was cooking for meat and potato people, I myself am not actually eating meat right now for Advent, so I cooked up some tempeh, with onions and mushrooms and more of the butternut, and what I thought was a good idea, some leftover red wine. It was a terrible idea! It was OLD WINE! You have to TASTE THE WINE BEFORE YOU ADD IT! It almost ruined it but tons and tons and tons of ketchup helped get rid of the grodiness. It was not my finest work though.

And so the table was laid; salad, dressing; leftover roasted butternut; sliced baguette; meat and potatoes, and tempeh.

 

Wine to wash it all down: what the Trader Joe’s guy said would be good with chicken. (Actually, after tasting something and mentioning how I love wine from countries where they speak Spanish, we talked about the “cena para los padres de mi novio” and wine that is “buen con pollo”. I love when strangers speak Spanish with me, it’s so helpful!)

It is from a country where they speak Spanish, appropriately. I thought it was lovely. (And like $5!)

Finally, for dessert, in keeping with the autumnal thing, apple crisp.

Steve had never had apple crisp before and had also never made pastry, and is a boy, so the whole “light touch” thing didn’t totally happen with making the crisp. More like “smash the butter into submission.” So the butter kind of melted through everything… Fortunately, this was fantastic!

Unpictured: Vanilla Haagen Dasz :D

 

Steve’s parents had just spent a bunch of time putting furniture into a trailer to move his sister’s stuff home from college and then driven from Philadelphia to DC, ultimately not arriving til around 10:30 at night. Honestly, I think anything would’ve tasted good! However, they seemed totally jazzed to eat this stuff :D

And, I can make some dang good meat and potatoes.

spontaneous barbecue

My friend Carolyn and one of her high school friends decided one summer to make it the Salt ‘n Pepa summer. Every day, whenever they got into a vehicle, they blasted Salt ‘n Pepa.

Inspired by this, I am declaring this summer the summer of the spontaneous barbecue. Had another last night. It was magnificent.

When work is tiring, it is oh-so soothing and contemplative to spend one’s quiet evening hours staring into smoldering charcoals, smelling the blissful aroma of foodstuffs transformed into blistering goodness.

 

(that odd looking thing on the foil was a spontaneous veggie burger- mashed up some leftover white beans with some leftover pesto and put ‘em on that to grill. Made a great topping for my lunch salad today!)

The protein element of the meal was from the farmer’s market- buffalo burgers! I try to keep my burgers low-fuss: I just added finely minced onion, Worcestershire sauce, and salt and pepper.

In a frustrating moment, the grill that was WAY TOO HOT a few minutes earlier was reluctantly cool when the burgers actually went on. I always fear cooking mistakes (I judge my value as a person at how happy the most recent meal I’ve cooked has made those around me) but an overcooked burger due to an inadequately hot grill was particularly frightening because local and organic farmer’s market meat is so damn beautiful and also so damn expensive.

Anyway, I pulled through and they were great.

Also toasted up English muffins and mini pitas… because they were what we had. Spontaneity means sometimes not having burger buns.

 

Gorgeous local asparagus also turned out quite sublimely.

My adorable boyfriend joined us and brought a ton of food. We snacked before dinner on the mulberries he’d picked from the dish near his yard, and I grilled in a foil packet (with just salt, pepper, and olive oil) his beautiful elephant kale. And stuck that leftover tomater on the grill, for kicks.

 

Like a still life, eh?

My sister joined us (along with her friend) and incorporated something that tasted like Thanksgiving dinner… in May… delicious, delicious Thanksgiving dinner.

Carrots, pecans, honey, butter… don’t really know what else but it was awesome.

 

And my mom made the light of my life, her potato salad. She makes it Greek-style, with fresh oregano (it wintered over and is growing in profusion on our deck!), red wine vinegar, and scads of delicious olive oil.

My mom’s potato salad is one of my favorite things in the entire world ever.

 

And a shockingly abundant and classy Tuesday night dinner was served, al fresco, with good company and laughs.

   

The evening concluded, as these things always do, with the toasting of marshmallows.

 

And spontaneous grilled bananas!

 

green!

Green is my favorite color. It is the color of growing things, springtime renewal, PLANTS! Thus it is only fitting that I celebrate it today, my ****TWO YEAR BLOGIVERSARY****!

I know I am not the frequent poster that I was before, but I like to believe what I have lost in frequency I have (somewhat) made up for by making posts that are a little less “Dear Diary” and a little more food writer. Plus, my picture quality in the early days had nowhere to go but up.

Anyway, I still relish the time I spend (lately, mostly just Sunday afternoons like this), on my couch, putting together pictures into posts, Sheila working diligently beside me.

 

Sometimes I (narcissistically?) reread old blog entries I have written, and then it makes me remember delicious meals I have eaten and want to recreate them.

So the other night’s dinner was inspired by one of my favorite co-chefs, who lives in one of my favorite places: I remembered the fish baked in rainbow chard leaves I made with my cousin Rachel in Austin. I had bought some beautiful rainbow (but mostly green) chard at the farmer’s market and was easy to take it out for a spin again.

This was made in a rush on a weeknight and was therefore less sophisticated and also incidentally had less (meaning no) butter… but was still good.

Layer of chard leaves. Then salmon. Salt and pepper, drizzle of olive oil.

 

Lemon slicey!

 

More chard on top. Aren’t those colors so beautiful? I think rainbow chard is one of the most artistic looking vegetables on earth.

 

Foil topper for (I hoped) moisture retention and steamage.

45 or so minutes later at 350 degrees, it emerged from the oven steamed down considerably (note to self: use WAY MORE CHARD LEAVES next time! I know intellectually that they cook down but they REALLY REALLY COOK DOWN).

Steaming things inside things makes for such an attractive presentation! Minus the salmon fat, which I sort of scraped off of my piece cause I hear that’s where mercury and other narsty toxins accumulate. True? False?

             

Also green: Thursday! Saint Patrick’s Day! Obviously I was compelled to honor my Irish heritage, at least culinarily, because I am one sixteenth. I know people who get frighteningly drunk over a far smaller percentage.

I arrived at Steve’s at lunchtime with the following things:

For potluck later in the evening, I brought some of my broccoli stem pickles (hereinafter referred to as “brickles”), Cooking Light’s brown Irish soda bread which is intensely delicious but I, in a moment of intense stupidity, misread the recipe of and overcooked by ten minutes, thus making it taste like (slightly dry) plain bread rather than EARTH SHATTERING BUTTERY AWESOMENESS. (I have since made another loaf. It is much better).

And, for our lunchtime sunshiney picnic in the park, a green salad of farmer’s market jolly green goodness mix that includes mustard greens and I don’t know what else but is luscious; some Mutzu apple, and Trader Joe’s Persian cucumbers which, like everything in Trader Joes’ produce section are nonlocal and excessively packaged, but are quite yummy; and homemade dressing of lemon juice, apple cider vinegar, and olive oil.

To round out the meal, Steve contributed brown rice with some nice sauteed trail mix on top. Bizarre, yet not bad at all in taste and highly highly filling. Who knew?

Following work and a lovely walk in the park with Erin, I headed to Steve’s, where he was making his potluck meal. In separate pans, onions and garlic with SCADS of oil (really the reason Steve’s cooking is so delicious and satisfying is that he is not neurotic, like me, about using more than a teaspoon of oil at a time).

And a colorful and nutritious variety of frozen (mostly green) vegetables. It really should occur to me to buy frozen okra because it is one of my favorite vegetables and still totally delicious when flash-frozen at its in-season ripest. And its growing season is just too short!

The resulting dish, with some rice, eggs, and seasonings for good measure, was vair delicious fried rice. Steve is typically not a recipe follower (save that succulent falafel), but there’s a reason: he makes really really awesome rice. If it ain’t broke…

Carolyn is a lot more passionate about Saint Patrick’s day than any of us, so she chipped in heart-stopping and glorious baked potato soup (Expected? Totally rich and cream-packed. Unexpected? Luscious luscious rosemary. Nom!) as well as an amusing looking cake. The shamrock symbology is pretty obvious. The icing just happened because she had two half-containers. We spent a happy moment together in the kitchen cleaning out the almost-empty jars (She took vanilla, I dispatched the chocolate.)

We were actually too fully to break into the cake on Thursday, but it constituted most of my dinner on Friday. The ensuing sugar high sent me on a moonlit monument stroll with Steve. So lovely!

Back to potluck, my firsts. Only small plates were clean and available. Thus, many refills.

The soup, lotsa fried rice, and Erin’s green salad with edamame, tomato, olives, avocado, and other goodies. Had already snacked on a lot of pickles. Mostly rejected my own bread: everyone else said it was fine but I knew I could do better. My greatest kitchen competitor is myself.

Finally, some sweet green: our awesome supervisor Katie, following a planning meeting which causes me anxiety when I think too much about it, brought some bizarrely delicious mochi ice cream. Say what?!

I was all over the green tea flavor.

Fascinating. Starchy chewy mochi goodness on the outside, cold, rich, green tea ice cream on the inside. The coldness is a bit unexpected… my fellow Americorpse Joslynn had a pretty hilarious brain freeze.

I enjoyed. Though have always thought green tea ice cream tastes sort of like grass.

A final green story: our cactuses have been getting it on. This cactus now has its original red blossom… and a PURPLE one from the next guy over. Naughty, naughty!

Beautiful beautiful growing things. A final green hope for this (increasingly) length blogiversary post: could spring really be here?