Dan brought some of his in-flight snacks home after a recent trip through Paris (destination: Beirut) on Air France. I tried them. I liked them!
My favorite of the two was Traou Mad de Pont-Aven Mini-Gaufres -- waffled rounds with a "paprika/spice mix flavor." They're just barely spicy, with a rich, complex taste.
Traou Mad de Pont-Aven Apericrepes are small bits flavored with comte cheese and walnut. They were almost sweet in an intriguing way.
Both are savory, crispy, and altogether appealing. I'd happily eat more than my fair share of either one.
I was told I selected the "perfect combination" of three snacks to bring along in my bag when my husband and I attended our first Tribeca Parenting Childbirth Education Class (Home Birth), so I thought I'd share this winning combo:
Here's to the people and restaurants who provided special snacks and meals in the first several weeks after I gave birth to my son (three weeks ago today).
My smarty-pants husband had Thai delivered from Cheers for the two of us, our doula, and the midwife, an hour or two after our home birth.
Moss, Rachel, and Hero brought fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, biscuits, and slices of pie from Pies 'n' Thighs for dinner that first night. Turns out that two pieces of fried chicken was EXACTLY what I wanted after 8 1/2 hours of labor.
Nick came by with dark beer (good for milk production, they say) and ice cream and chips and...numerous other good things. Matthew C. also brought beer (which turned out to be more for my husband than for me).
Tim and Holly made lasagna and fennel salad, and delivered it with chocolate cake (and brought their gorgeous 6-month old daughter).
David and Molly donated homemade chicken pot pies, ready to cook, and chocolate-coconut hand pies (pictured above). Oh, yum!
Carmine's was the first place we "ate out" with the baby. We only purchased two slices of pizza at the counter, but they still let us sit in the back (which is usually reserved for people ordering from the menu), away from the construction noise on the street.
Inedible but Lovely "special mention" goes to Willow and August's cherry blossoms and two bunches of flowers from Matt C. -- not to mention all the other friends who stopped by or mailed cards and gifts of rattles, blankets, onesies, books, lullabies, and more. Sorry I haven't named you all here!
For a couple of years, I've been wanting to prove to myself that the many cookbooks I've hoarded (about a quarter of which can be viewed in the photo above) are good for something. I do cook regularly from a number of them, but there are others that just hang out in the kitchen as novelty items. Far too often, I turn the internet when looking for a new recipe to try. I know this is, in part, because it is much easier to search for specific ingredients on my computer, but I love quite a few of the cookbooks I've collected -- even ones I don't use often. They do take up space, though, and I should probably use them or lose (at least a few of) them.
I thought perhaps I would create a challenge in which I attempt to make at least one recipe from each of my cookbooks (and books of "food writing" that include recipes) over the course of a year. This may help me decide which cookbooks to get rid of, but it might also clue me in to some new favorites. As a bonus, this could also create some entertaining blog content (for you!) along the way.
For my first book in the challenge, I chose The New York Times Large Type Cookbook(by Jean Hewitt; illustrations by Maida Silverman. Golden Press, NY, 1968). I don't remember exactly where I picked this up (as will be the case with many of my second-hand sources), but for some reason I was drawn to the format. The recipes are fairly basic in an appealing way (large print makes everything look easier!), and the illustrations are spare but sweet.
This morning, I made up a dish of the cookbook's:
Boone Tavern Spoon Bread (note: recipe instructions have been paraphrased)
1 1/4 c. white cornmeal 3 c. milk, rapidly boiling 3 eggs, beaten 1 tsp. salt (you could ease off the salt a tad, I think) 1 3/4 tsp. baking powder 2 T. melted butter, cooled
Once the milk is boiling (be careful, as it can easily boil over in a too-small pot), add the cornmeal and stir constantly until it is well-mixed and thick. Remove from heat and allow to cool. Preheat oven to 375 F.
When cooled, stir cornmeal mixture into other ingredients. Mix (I used a stand mixer) at high speed for 10-15 minutes, or until smooth. Spread in a pie plate or casserole dish (1-1 1/2 qt capacity). Bake in oven for 30 minutes. Serve with melted butter (or cheese or hot sauce or sour cream, I thought, with bacon on the side). The cookbook specifies that this should be eaten with a fork, which tickled me. It's "spoon" bread, after all!
I hope you appreciated my "large print" homage.
Spoon bread is like a corn bread casserole. I found the recipe plain but filling, which seems true to the aesthetic and contents of this cookbook. I have a hunch, flipping through it, that there are other things in this volume I would enjoy making and eating. The New York Times Large Type Cookbook is staying on the "keep" pile for now.
How many cookbooks do I have, anyway? I'm taking bets.
I think it's awesome that this hardware store in my neighborhood wants to support and display local artists. They hold an annual event that's part street festival and part gallery opening -- all centered in and around the Crest Hardware Store in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
Walking around the store, looking for artwork "hidden" among the merchandise (and often greatly resembling the merchandise), was like participating in a treasure hunt. Actually, there was a map to the artistic treasures, but it wasn't available yet when we stopped by on opening day. We spent an hour or more just wandering and trying to spot everything.
Extended festivities on Saturday included food, crafts, face painting, other vendors, bands, and more!
I was glad to see that the major beneficiary of this event was The City Reliquary Museum, another local institution that's been in danger of going out of business for too long.
Vintage wrap-around sundress (eBay) and Predictions sandals (Payless).
I kind of think sesame sticks are the best part of snack mixes that include sesame sticks. They're also excellent in salads. These, of the "Happy Herbert's" brand variety, do make me pretty happy.
Paul says sesame butter is also excellent. I'd like to try some, please.
Philadelphia is but a hop, skip, and a jump from New York City. It's a deafeningly easy day trip to make by bus (with tickets as low as $8!). Yet yesterday was my first real trip to Center City (outside of a couple of dips into the neighborhood around the train station on the way to visit my parents in the 'burbs).
If you'd told me about Reading Terminal Market you might have gotten me to the city sooner. It's a cavernous, warehouse-sized space full of vendors selling food (ready-to eat and ready-to-cook), books, candies, and sundries. It's similar to Zern's, also in Pennsylvania, but there is a much greater emphasis on food at the Terminal Market, which is more like a giant food court with a few other shops sprinkled in.
Dan and I were a little enchanted by a crowded seating area near the entrance, where an older lady sat behind an upright piano and played live music for the people shopping, talking, and eating. It just so happened that we were also near, and stumbled upon, Miller's Twist, a booth of Amish-capped women (and one man) hand-rolling, cooking, and serving fresh pretzels and pretzel-wrapped sausages.
As you can see from the video above, my pretzel-wrapped turkey cheddar sausage was not particularly photogenic, but, man, I tell you. It was filling, hot, and delicious. Even better, the just-made soft pretzel Dan ordered to go with my sausage (and his Philly Cheesesteak-wrapped-in-pretzel) was the perfect combination of soft, tender, chewy and bready, with an out-of-this-world, buttery flavor.
The lemonade was a bit sweeter than I normally like it, but at this point, who cares? I'm all about the pretzels. They sure beat the soft pretzels I ate at Towne East mall in Wichita, KS when I visited Grandma K. as a child (sorry, Grandma).
For goodness' sake. I'm still thinking about them. Amazing.
Yesterday afternoon I (1) roasted garlic for homemade pizza, using Mark Bittman's whole head method because I don't like the ones where you have to cut any part of the garlic off -- and it couldn't be simpler: peel as much of the paper off as you can without breaking up the head, put 1-2 heads in an oven-safe dish with 1/4 c. water, sprinkle with salt and drizzle with olive oil, cover (with foil or a lid), and bake at 375 F for about an hour (until a knife will pierce it easily), remembering to baste it with the water in the dish after 30 minutes;
(2) Dried some wool in the sun (from my fiber farm cormo/mohair share in 2008) after soaking it in boiling water for 10 minutes to soften it, as Shepherd Susan Gibb from Juniper Moon Farm (formerly Martha's Vineyard Fiber Farm) suggested;
and (3) drank a Norwegian Emmi Caffe Latte Mocha, which tasted like coffee-flavored chocolate milk.
I did some other stuff, too, but you get the picture. It was the last day of a luxurious 10-day vacation (in which I was only away from home for two days). I'm not giving up my leisure time, but it's going back to "limited" status as of this morning.
Here we are, one of us participating in and one of us spectating at a big ol' badminton tournament.
Here we are, spotting a nearby purveyor of food, Le Gamin.
Here we are, standing in a long, slooooow line [shoes by Manimal].
Here we are, edging closer to our snack...(eventually, this truck would completely sell out of food, so we were lucky).
Here we are, finally, on what might be the cleanest grass in NYC, about to enjoy a Nutella crepe and (as it turns out, slightly oversalted) fries with mayo and ketchup.
