gorgeous bits

Noise~Florence and the Machine

2011-12-30T13:28:00.000-08:00

Florence and the Machine - Shake It Out (Acoustic) from Pick Up The Headphones on Vimeo.

My Favorite Beer

2011-06-27T16:49:00.000-07:00

Upright Brewing is a marvelous little brewery on my side of town. The brew is gloriously light, bubbly, VERY refreshing and in a beautifully artistic, wine-like bottle. I've been to a couple of dinners where the brewer himself attended and paired each local dish with his swanky beers.

Simply lovely.

And very Portland-y.

Blueberry-Bleu Cheese Spread

2011-06-17T11:50:00.000-07:00

Last night after work, my friend Kristen hosted a divine Summer Dinner Party on her deck.
She grilled steaks, fresh crisp asparagus and mushrooms...

A few of us who knew each other "way back when" had a blast browsing through yearbooks, laughing about how we used to feather our hair and spend the summer's babysitting so we could afford Gunne Sax dresses, Sbicca rope sandals, and fat tubes of Bonnie Bell lip gloss that you could hang from a string as a necklace. (Dr. Pepper and Watermelon flavor were my favorite).

I arrived early and tossed together a few ingredients in Kristen's food processor to make a savory dip. We ate it spooned onto whole wheat party crackers with a thin slice of green apple, which was a wonderful combination of contrasting flavors and textures. It was even the perfect addition with our steaks... a generous dollop, melting over the caramelized meat.

This spur of the moment recipe was a definite keeper:

Blueberry-Bleu Cheese Spread/Dip

1 small tub of crumbled Bleu Cheese (preferably Danish)
1 8oz block of cream cheese
1 pint of fresh or frozen blueberries
1/2 Tbs sweet hot chili sauce
1/2 cup or so of toasted chopped walnuts
1/2 cup thinly sliced green onion
1 tsp salt (or to taste)
1/2 tsp fresh cracked pepper (or to taste)

As you toast the chopped walnuts on low heat in a small pan on the stove top, whir together the bleu cheese, blueberries, cream cheese, sweet hot chili sauce, salt and pepper in a food processor. (about 2 minutes)
Stir in the toasted walnuts and then sprinkle on the sliced green onion. Garnish with a few fresh blueberries. If you have time, refrigerate for one hour so the flavors meld.

This would also be terrific served with thinly sliced toasted baguette.
(and the tangy green apple makes a great flavor addition, so try not to leave it out)

~Enjoy friends and good food this weekend Kittens!

Pulling a George Costanza

2011-06-15T17:02:00.000-07:00

For the most part, I am a responsible person.

When the weekend arrives, my husband and I often attend the kids sports activities, putter around the house cooking and doing chores. We work in the yard, mow the lawn, grocery shop, do laundry and every now and again, host dinner parties for friends and family. All in all, I'd say we are a rather fairly typical American couple with three pre-teen/teenage children. We are happy, domestic and busy.

And comfortably boring.
We've become that word I always thought of when I thought about old age:
PREDICTABLE.

But last weekend, I decided it was time for us to "Pull a Costanza", and do the opposite of the domestic routine we'd fallen into.

My subtly amazing husband was all set to go outside and mow the lawn Sunday morning, when I surprised him with a spur of the moment suggestion:

Bloody Mary Sunday at The Lompoc downtown Portland.

So at 11: AM, we drove to NW 23rd, bought a copy of the Sunday Paper, slipped on our sunglasses and hung out on the back patio of the Lompoc, sipping savory $3 Bloody Mary's.

Romantic. Relaxing. Sublime.

I sometimes forget how to be spontaneous. I often find myself feeling melancholoy and wistful when I don't have my children... missing them so much that I can't really relax and enjoy time with just my husband. When I'm in Mommy Mode, I'm a different person. With all of the time we spend managing a family budget, cleaning, caring for the house and car and family, it's easy to forget about relaxing and hanging out together, like we did before we married.

Try doing something the opposite of what you usually do, every once in a while.
It helps keep life interesting.

The Best Way to Cook Ribs

2011-06-10T16:51:00.000-07:00

A couple weekends of ago, our good friends Jud and Caroline came over for dinner with their charming daughter Eloise for dinner and to have me take a family photo.

The evening was lovely. Eloise giggled as Kev and Jud taught her how to lie in the hammock in the back yard, Caroline threw together a wonderful green salad and we enjoyed a deliciously juicy bottle of red wine that went beautifully with ribs.

Now here is my confession: I've actually never made ribs before. My Subtly Amazing Husband is pretty much in charge of the grill in the summer, and we are not necessarily a rib-consuming type of family. But our freezer has been filled with neatly wrapped packages of all kinds of pork and beef that I earned in early spring after trading photographs of prize winning pigs at a local farm in Sandy Oregon. Needless to say, I'd grabbed a couple mysteriously white butcher paper encased slabs from the deep freeze and let them thaw in the fridge. Once defrosted, I opened them up to behold two pink and red racks of pork ribs. Upon looking up recipes online, I decided to combine a few of the tricks I'd read about on the Internet and attempt to invent a perfect sauce to go with.

Surprisingly, by the time Jud, Caroline, Eloise, Kev were seated at the table with a simple salad, a loaf of New Season's bread and our coveted red wine, the ribs were perfectly fall-off-the-bone-melt-in-your-mouth done.

And the sauce was divine as well, if I do say so myself.

I felt like such a Kitchen Cowgirl.

Fabulous Ribs:

1. Place rack of ribs on a large sheet of aluminum foil in a large baking dish and begin mixing together your rub. I tossed together about 4 tablespoons of dark brown sugar, 1 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp pepper, 1/4 tsp ground mustard, 1 Tbs garlic powder and 1 tsp chili pepper. Pat and press firmly into the meat and wrap the aluminum foil tightly around it like a present. Put into the fridge and let rest for at least 2 hours. (I did this first thing in the morning, then puttered about until later that afternoon)

2. Take baking dish with foil wrapped ribs out of fridge. Turn oven onto bake setting at only 275 degrees. Once the oven is heated, pop the ribs in the baking dish into oven on the middle rack, and let slow bake in it's own juice and rub for at least 3 hours.

3. A little before the ribs are due to emerge from the oven, pour 1 can of beer into a saucepan and heat through at medium high heat. Add 2 Tbs. apple cider vinegar, 2 Tbs. dark brown sugar, 1 tsp. salt, a dollop of Dijon mustard, a splash of soy sauce or Worcestershire sauce and bring to a slow low boil.

4. When timer goes off, carefully remove baking dish from oven and even more carefully, unwrap the foil around the ribs, keeping most of the foil in tact. (you want the ribs to continue to marinade in their own drippings) Drizzle a few spoonfuls of the sauce over the ribs and return to the oven, this time, make sure they are on the top rack and turn the heat up to 475 degrees. Once the oven heats up to 475, put the timer on for only about 15 minutes so the ribs will become crispy and caramelized.

5. turn the heat up on the stove top so that the beer-sauce is simmering slowly and reduces to about half. The glaze should be slightly sweet, slightly tangy and delicious. Adjust to your taste, and when it has reduced enough, pour it into a dish and set on the table so your guests can drizzle on as much as they like.

2011-06-09T15:41:00.000-07:00

"Yet it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the

submerged truth sometimes comes to the top."

Virginia Woolf

A Birthday Weekend

2011-06-03T15:48:00.000-07:00

It seems like only yesterday that my youngest daughter was gathering every pink stuffed animal and Barbie to take with her on our hike to the Portland Rose Garden's when we lived in NW.

Yesterday, she turned a whopping 11 years old! We celebrate this weekend by pretending Portland is Paris... renting a gorgeous hotel room downtown with a glittering city view.

More photos to follow kittens!

A Simple and Divine Way to Serve Strawberries:

2011-06-02T15:37:00.000-07:00

The weather in Portland has been a dreary gray. I've had a case of the blues, and have sorely missed writing and cooking and trying to find the glamorous moments of life.

Inspiration has eluded me I'm afraid.

But yesterday, as I raced into Fred Meyer's after work to grab a bag of greens to go with dinner, a box of organic strawberries winked at me from the produce section. (if there is one organic grocery store purchase you can splurge on, it should be strawberries)

I'm a sucker for warm, melted dark chocolate with fruit, but in this recipe, the dark golden homemade caramel sauce shines through, and the combination is beautifully complex, and deliciously mesmerizing. Shock your dinner guests with the sheer simplicity and brilliance of this dessert.

Serve the fresh ruby berries in wine glasses , drizzled with the warm dark chocolate and slightly salty , cozy, caramel sauce, along with a well chosen Port. You will be a rock star.

Even in the rain.

Strawberries with Chocolate Caramel Sauce
(brilliant.)

1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup heavy cream (warmed up a tad in the microwave or on the stove top)
1.5 oz fine-quality bittersweet chocolate (not unsweetened; no more than 60% cacao if labeled), coarsely chopped
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 lb strawberries, (halved if they are humongous)

Accompaniment: lightly sweetened whipped cream

Cook sugar in a dry 1-quart heavy saucepan over moderately high heat, undisturbed, until it begins to melt, about 2 minutes. Continue to cook, stirring occasionally with a fork, until sugar is melted into a deep golden caramel, (1 to 2 minutes).

Remove from heat and carefully pour in cream (mixture will steam and bubble vigorously). Once bubbles begin to subside, return pan to moderate heat and cook, stirring constantly, until caramel is dissolved.

Remove from heat, then add chocolate and salt and stir until chocolate is melted. Add butter and stir until just melted.

Cool sauce slightly, then drizzle over strawberries.

Yum.

*For an added treat, (and to cure the blues during Portland's rainy season) try it along with a bottle of Port from McMenamins

Star Star

2011-05-05T12:29:00.000-07:00

Soup for a Rainy Friday Night

2011-03-25T16:35:00.000-07:00

It's almost spring, and I'm excited about the fresh NW vegetables that will soon be available at the local farmers markets. I can't wait to try out a few new recipes with tender-local ingredients.

Even though you can sense a quiet change in the weather, evenings are still quite chilly, and call for a filling, hot, soul nourishing soup. This particular recipe is full of vibrant flavor, is made with still easy to find, winter root vegetable ingredients. My kids actually LOVE it and it's really inexpensive to make. It's a fabulous little recipe that I invented after being inspired by a cookbook I found at the beach called, "Stop the Clock Cooking". It's a twist on an African Stew, and it has coconut milk and peanut butter in it for added creaminess and a deep rich flavor that is actually good for you.

The only tricky part is cutting up all of the veggies...

1 Tbs extra virgin olive oil
1 finely chopped medium red onion
1 finely chopped medium green bell pepper
1/2 cup chopped carrot
1/2 cup chopped celery
3 minced garlic cloves
2 Tbs peeled, minced fresh ginger
1 Tbs curry powder
2 large peeled halved, seeded chopped tomatoes (or 1 cup tomato sauce)
1 bay leaf
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 medium sized sweet potato, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch dice
1 can drained chick peas
1 can coconut milk
1/4 cup (plus a little extra if you LOVE it like I do) creamy or crunchy peanut butter
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro without stems (for garnish)

Heat olive oil in a 4-quart saucepan or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion, bell pepper, carrot and celery and saute until fragrant; do not brown garlic. Add sweet potato and simmer for about 5 minutes. Add garlic, ginger, and curry powder and saute until fragrant; do not brown garlic. Add tomatoes and bay leaf and cook, uncovered, until tomatoes are slightly reduced, about 3 minutes.

Add broth and bring mixture to a boil. Reduce heat to low. Add sweet potato and simmer for about 5 minutes. Stir in chick peas, peanut butter and coconut milk until combined. Cook until heated through, about 2 minutes. Top with cilantro and season with salt and pepper.

* This recipe makes a generous size pot, and the leftovers are perfect for a chilly Saturday after picking up the kids from track, softball and baseball practices. I sometimes serve it over a bowl of warm brown rice, serve a side salad for a hearty weekend lunch.

The Kate Winslet

2011-03-10T16:30:00.000-08:00

A completely glamorous concoction to wind down the day.

{image from Gourmet}

start with a mixture of London dry gin and red-currant jelly and top it off with dry sparkling wine. Bejewel each glass with a garnish of fresh red currants.2 Tbsp red-currant jelly

2 oz water (1/4 cup)

4 oz (1/2 cup) London dry gin

1 (750-ml) bottle well-chilled brut Champagne or Prosecco

GARNISH: fresh red currants

• Heat jelly and water in a small saucepan, whisking, until jelly has dissolved. Stir in gin and chill until cold.

• Divide gin mixture among 6 Champagne flutes, then top with Champagne.

Dark-Chocolate-Guinness-Stout Cake

2011-03-07T14:45:00.000-08:00

You can seduce husbands with Beer.

And chocolate.

And cake.

So... it only makes sense that a dark chocolate, rich, stout beer cake = the Ultimate Enticement.

To be perfectly honest, for the past few months, I haven't been seductive or sultry. Not even a little bit.

I have been in sort of a self imposed hibernation and a self-pitying funk... living in flannel pajama bottoms, reading trashy romance novels and watching movies like Beowulf and Doomsday while eating cheesy poofs on the couch. I've not been charming or fun. I haven't been pretty or light hearted to say the least. I've even had cheesy poof powder stuck in my hair at times. For a while, I felt like Jaba The Hut with a case of the Mean Reds.

But my quietly heroic, Subtly Amazing husband has remained steadfast and kind through even my worst days. He's listened to me snuffle and whine about the injustices of the world this winter. He took me to the movies and told me I was beautiful even when I wasn't. He made me tea, told me bad jokes to help me remember how to smile, and covered me with a blanket when I went to bed at night.

I'm telling you, I am married to Fantasy Husband.

And my Subtly Amazing Fantasy Husband deserves a medal.

Or at least a cake.

This one is absolutely sumptuous and sinful. It is the King of Cakes. The scent of it will make everyone in the household swoon and want to camp out in the kitchen and lick the bowl after you've whipped up the pillowy cream frosting. It is unbelievably dense, and tastes heavenly when it's warm out of the oven (but you will catch yourself sneaking bites of cake deep into the night).

Don't worry, you don't actually taste the beer in the cake, it simply adds a depth of coffee/chocolaty flavor as well as making it extremely moist.

... and if you buy a big bottle of Guinness, you can sip the left-overs while you whisk and bake.

The Recipe: Chocolate Stout Cake

1 cup and 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup Stout beer
3/4 cup Dutch process cocoa, sifted
2 plus 1/4 cup all-purpose flour, sifted
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 cups sugar
2 medium eggs, room temperature
2/3 cup softened, whipped cream cheese
1 tablespoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt

For the frosting:
1 plus 1/3 cup cream cheese, room temperature
1 plus 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar, sifted
2/3 cup heavy cream, whipped

Preheat the oven to 350° F. Prepare a 10" spring form pan by liberally buttering it, placing parchment paper on the bottom, buttering again, and dusting with cocoa power to "flour" it.

Add butter, cocoa, and stout to a saucepan. Warm over a medium heat and stir until melted. Set aside for 5-10 minutes to cool slightly.
Add flour, baking soda, and sugar to a large mixing bowl and mix together. Pour in the Stout/cocoa powder/butter mixture, lightly combine. Then add the vanilla, eggs and whipped cream cheese and beat everything together until well combined. The batter should be thick.
Pour into prepared pan and bake in oven for roughly 1 hour. Since all ovens bake differently, be sure to check your cake often. I always start checking well before the recommended time, just to be safe. When the cake feels firm and a toothpick comes out clean, it's done. There may be a few crumbs that stick to it. Do not overbake. This is a very moist cake, so use your best judgement with the toothpick test.
Let cool for 10-15 minutes, before removing from pan and placing on a wire rack to cool completely.
To frost the cake, place the cream cheese into bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment. Whisk until the cream cheese is smooth and there are no big lumps remaining.
Gradually, add the sifted confectioners' sugar and beat gently to combine. After 2-3 minutes, stop the machine, scrape down the sides of the bowl and beat on medium speed until lump free.
Remove bowl from mixer and gently fold in the whipped cream, mixing until fully combined.

Place cooled cake on a stand and spread the top with frosting.

Musical Books

2011-03-04T12:34:00.000-08:00

I just LOVE LOVE LOVE stop-motion animation... especially when it involves dancing books.

Happy Weekend Darlings! And don't worry your pretty little heads. Gorgeous Bits has been severely neglected, I know. I've practically been in hibernation. But the fun is starting to re-infuse my veins, and this weekend I will be cooking up a celebrational storm for my lovely readers.

Please, stay tuned.

Air Kisses kittens~

SnapDoodle Coffee Cake

2011-01-15T08:27:00.000-08:00

On the weekends, when my kids are sleeping in, warm in their cocoon of sheets and blankets, I am compelled to bake. One of my fondest memories of childhood is waking up slowly, luxuriously, to the sweet smell of cinnamon and brown sugar. My mother made coffee-cake, "SnapDoodle Cake", when I was growing up, and now I do. Almost religiously. My grandmother Gi Gi's recipe.

It is simple and streamlined... one of those "one bowl" sort of recipes that is practically foolproof. I do tend to load on the butter and I use the best cinnamon I can find, but it's the weekend. It's a memory for my children and a staple in our house now, and worth every calorie. I think the name came from "Snickerdoodle", which is one of my all time favorite cookies.

This is divine with a hot cup of coffee and makes your house smell like the weekend. I can't think of a more comforting way to greet a Saturday morning.

SnapDoodle Coffee Cake

1 egg
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup milk

Preheat oven to 400 degrees
Beat ingredients thoroughly-place in greased pan.
Dot with butter, sprinkle with brown sugar and cinnamon.

Bake in one layer for 20 minutes.

Serve with a Mimosa.

Freakin Delicious Kale Chips.

2011-01-10T15:03:00.000-08:00

Now THIS is absolutely BRILLIANT.

I must be late to the party. Supposedly, this little gem of a recipe has been floating around the Internet for a few years now, and I am so glad I finally stumbled upon it.

I KNOW kale is good for you. It's one of those "dark-green-leafy" vegetables that is not only in season in the dead of winter and surprisingly cheap to buy, but it is chock full of things that are supposed to be healthy for you. I've tried to stir fry it, soak it in vinegar, saute it and add it to stews, but I have not been impressed. I've read it's loaded with antioxidants, fiber, and even cholesterol lowering benefits, and I want to eat it. But honestly, I've never really liked the taste of Kale.

Until now.

Crunchy, salty, slightly briny and savory, Kale chips are divine. Baked and served this way, you may even entice your kids to eat healthy leafy greens, and I haven't come across a simpler recipe.

First, buy what is called "Dinosaur Kale" or Tuscan Kale. (You may need to go to Whole Foods, New Seasons. I'm not sure Safeway or Albertsons carry the curly kind.) Using a small sharp knife, cut out the stalk/stem from the middle of each leaf.

Preheat your oven to 250 degrees, and while you're at it, toss about a tablespoon of olive oil into a Ziploc back with the prepared kale leaves. Coat evenly.

Spread out evenly in a single layer on two large baking sheets and sprinkle with salt and pepper. (sea salt if you have some) and pop into the oven for about 30 minutes until crisp. Transfer to a rack to cool.

In Bon Appetite, they are served upright, like this, in a vase...

They are surprisingly addictive, and look super cool on the table.

Happy Week-Ending!

2010-12-17T15:31:00.000-08:00

Photo courtesy of Pictory Mag ...

Marshmallow Wreath

2010-12-16T13:26:00.000-08:00

I've got to make this little number this weekend...

Bring on the Hot Cocoa!

Fall Fashion Color

2010-10-21T13:04:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've posted. Quite honestly, I've been in the middle of a huge writing project! Someday, hopefully, great news about The Great American Novel by yours truly will be posted here on Gorgeous Bits.

In the meantime, thank you for your emails asking where I've been lately... it makes me feel well loved (and missed!)

I'll be getting back to more posts soon, but in the meantime, enjoy this piece of eye candy from a fabulous fashion blog, Garance Dore. I'm daydreaming about a bright, colorful, up-beat fall wardrobe.

If I had endless piles of money, I'd buy every single pair of these in every single color.

Happy Fall Kittens!

Classic Cassoulet

2010-10-07T13:20:00.001-07:00

cassoulet, originally uploaded by Sam Turner.

This may be one of the worst dishes to photograph... all gloppy and stewed looking with unexciting beige-y colors. But man O man. It is divine in terms of how it makes the house smell on a crisp weekened day and it will lure people to your home, kitchen and table like nobodies business.

Yummy oven-crisped garlic bread served on the side to scoop up the soupy bits would be perfect too.

I'm throwing down the gauntlett this weekend with my favorite classic French cooks-all-day recipe, but if anyone cares to engage in a Cassoulet Off with me, please plan your recipe, create and photograph it then email me the results.
I can't wait to find out which ones are best. And this weather SCREAMS for it darlings.

Any ideas for an apple dessert?

Smoked Sausage Cassoulet (or apple chicken sausage is good too)
Just plan to make a day ahead for the best flavor...

2 tablespoons plus 1/4 cup olive oil
3 pounds assorted fully cooked smoked sausages (such as kielbasa and andouille)

4 large leeks (white and pale green parts only), thinly sliced
6 large garlic cloves, chopped
1 medium apple, peeled, chopped
1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary
1 1/2 teaspoons dried rubbed sage
1/2 cup brandy
2 14 1/2-ounce cans diced tomatoes with roasted garlic in juice
3 15-ounce cans Great Northern beans, drained, liquid reserved
1 10-ounce package frozen baby lima beans, thawed
1 cup (or more) canned chicken broth
3 tablespoons tomato paste
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

4 cups diced country-style bread
1 pound tomatoes, seeded, diced
1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley

Preparation

Preheat oven to 350°F. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in heavy large ovenproof pot over medium heat. Add sausages; sauté until brown, about 25 minutes. Transfer to plate and cut into 1/2-inch rounds.

Add leeks and garlic to same pot. Sauté until beginning to soften, about 8 minutes. Mix in apple, rosemary and sage. Add brandy and simmer until almost evaporated, about 5 minutes. Mix in canned tomatoes with juices, canned beans with 1/2 cup reserved liquid, lima beans, 1 cup broth, tomato paste and cloves. Add sausages. Season with pepper.

Bring cassoulet to boil. Cover pot and transfer to preheated oven; bake 30 minutes. (Can be made up to 2 days ahead. Uncover; cool 1 hour. Refrigerate until cold; cover and keep refrigerated. Before continuing, rewarm in covered pot in 350°F. oven 40 minutes, adding more broth if dry.)

Heat remaining 1/4 cup oil in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Add bread and sauté until golden brown, stirring often, about 25 minutes. Combine fresh tomatoes and parsley in large bowl; mix in bread. Season topping with salt and pepper. Spoon onto warm cassoulet. Bake uncovered 15 minutes longer.

{Recipe found on Epicurious.com. It's hands down the best one I've tried!}

Life is gritty, beautiful, real and full. Enjoy it, no matter what. No matter when.

2010-10-05T15:57:00.000-07:00

WORDS from Everynone on Vimeo.

Love is Like Salt

2010-10-04T18:59:00.000-07:00

The Chef's at Oregon Culinary Institute have a terrific little experiment they do with the students in Term 1 in regards to teaching them about the importance of salt.

To be specific, what can just the right AMOUNT of salt do to a dish?

First, the chef's create five batches of perfectly pure cream of potato soup.
Next, they season or salt each one a little differently...

the first batch, no salt = no flavor. VERY bland.
the second batch, just a tiny bit of salt. Slightly better, but not enough seasoning to bring out the true flavor.
the third batch... just the right amount. The flavor of the potato is bright, vibrant, full of it's own potent possibility.
the fourth batch, a little too much salt. Slightly overwhelmed with salt, the soup is a mere a shadow of itself.
the fifth batch, WAY too much salt. The potato is rendered invisible.

I think love is sort of like that.

If you are in a relationship let's say, and there is no "true love", it is boring. Not passionate. Lack luster.
With a little love, a relationship can survive, but it doesn't really aspire to much.
Just the right amount, and love can bring out the best in two people... you know, pretty much MAGNIFY the best traits in each person.
Too much... well, maybe there isn't such a thing as too much love. But if there is, maybe a person can feel overwhelmed, lost, not themselves anymore.

So there you have it. My opinion. My rambling of the day.

Worth it's salt?

Sunday at the waffle stand

2010-10-03T12:46:00.001-07:00

Sunday at the waffle stand, originally uploaded by uncommonmuse.

Oh yum.

A huge benefit to living in Portland is the fact that we have fast and easy access to the most phenomenal street food in the whole world. And I'm not just making that up. Truly. Check it out here

On Sunday mornings, when you crave a hot cup of coffee and a breakfast treat that is the crowning glory of all breakfast treats, you must head to North Portland, my neck of the woods, for a handful of delicious waffle-y love.

Flavour Cart is outstanding.

Demise of the Fruit Fly

2010-10-02T07:54:00.001-07:00

IMG_2400, originally uploaded by uncommonmuse.

Every fall, it seems we have a tremendous problem with these wispy, annoying, tiny pests.
I swat at them helplessly as they bombard not only the freshly picked late-season fruit, lusciously crisp apples and fading garden tomatoes adorning my kitchen counters, but they are constantly dive-bombing into unsuspecting glasses of wine.

A fan-tabulous and old-timey solution my Grandmother Gi Gi used to keep the little buggers from taking over her compost bucket (yes, she composted back in the day) was to fill a juice glass partway full of inexpensive red wine, (the less expensive kind, don't waste the good stuff of course) top the glass with tightly fitted Saran Wrap, then poke a few holes into the top of it. Then, just set it out and wait.

Within about 24 hours you'll have a virtual graveyard of pesky fruit flies floating around in your boozy trap.

...and don't feel too bad, my guess is they expired happily. With a tremendous last buzz. ; )

PS~ this photo was my attempt to show a somewhat attractive trap. But the truth is, you'll really need to poke slightly larger holes in the Saran Wrap. The fruit fly guys will get in, but they'll be too disoriented and woozy to get out.
And that's a good word for the day: Woozy Fruit Fly.

The Laundry Room

2010-10-01T12:49:00.001-07:00

retro 2, originally uploaded by linus_lohoff.

Emma snuggled her soft pink cheek into the crook of my neck. I breathed in the familiar powdery scent of baby and covered her up with a soft blanket, still warm from the dryer. I stood there for a moment, quietly rocking from side-to-side in the ancient mommy dance, shifting my weight from hip to hip in rhythm with the white noise lullaby of the dryer. I stopped for a second to pull a faded yellow blanket from the dryer and draped it over her and tucked it around her sleeping body.

I was in the heart of our home. The laundry room was warm and silent. It smelled of fabric softener and faintly of spray starch, and, for some reason, I always felt completely safe here. This was a housewife’s unofficial sacred space. In this sanctuary, mothers transform dirty laundry to clean, neatly folded piles of clothing. It is physical proof that we love our family, and we clothe them with that love. Even our choice of detergent and stain remover is a declaration of love. Almost magically, a mom can resurrect a favorite t-shirt seemingly ruined by stray drippings from a melting Popsicle.

It was in this center of my home where I often found myself dancing my children to sleep, sneaking bites of fruit roll-ups by the handful, and every once in a while crying hidden behind the door, my sobs muffled by the spin cycle. (If your husband thinks you are in the throes of a huge load of laundry, he will not interrupt). It is the perfect escape. Rearrange the piles of laundry just a little, and voila --

instant Mom Fort.

Today was my birthday and my wedding anniversary, and our house was a quiet safe-haven to celebrate the milestone of our 14 years of marriage.

There was a knock at the door. I stopped moving and strained my ears to listen for my husband’s footsteps. Deciding that I didn’t hear any, I stepped out into the living room and glanced at the kitchen wall clock. 9:35 PM. As I made my way to the door, still holding Emma, I ran through a quick list of people that it could be, but couldn’t arrive at any likely candidates.

As I approached the glass-paneled front door, I could see that the front porch light threw a yellowish glare onto the grave faces of two police officers as they stood motionless on the other side of the door.

Little did I know, my safe suburban refuge was about to be demolished.

{from the journal entries writing project}

writing is my SuperPower

2010-09-19T20:17:00.000-07:00

I keep a lot in.

I used to think it was noble and strong, the right thing to do, even when you are pushed. turning the other cheek takes incredible strength.
I used to think being strong meant being quiet and & "taking it on the chin", even when people who were mean, ignorant and wrong lashed out at me.
I thought I was being heroic.

I loved to read about heroes when I was a kid,
their stories formed my world, my perspective, my view...inspired me and made me want to be like them.

heroes from greek myths, noble heroes, super heroes...people who against all odds stood up against the current when they had to for the "greater good".
Saints and legends, from the story of Jesus to the story of Batman, they were so noble, they took it on the chin from everyone. No matter what happened, how they were treated, what injustice came their way, they pushed through it.

I decided that should be what a person should aim for, that is the strength of character a person should strive for.

somewhere along the way I missed something though.
I guess I thought it was noble to keep in anything bad or ugly, to protect even the villian from shame by not confronting things that were wrong.
I shut down when I have to face demons. I've combatted them with nice-ness.

I could probably nice someone to death.

not very heroic actually.

some things in my past have become a weight upon my chest.
a ghost on my back.
even when I am right or have a reason or a point, I can't say outloud what I want to say.
I lock up.
I shut down.
I don't stick up for myself very well at all.

but I've finally found my voice.

I can write.
I can express myself with eloquence in the words that pour through my fingertips..,

and now I'm writing down the bones.
skeletons in closets are not as intimidating when you see them in black and white.
I'm shining a light on them by writing them down .

in any good story about a hero, whether or not it's a mythic legend or an ordinary housewife, the hero has a choice to face the darkness or be consumed by it.

maybe a hero can use truth and story as a weapon of defense;
a super power.

I'm putting the words in order.
remembering my story and clearing out the demons from the past, putting them on paper is opening me up to see with even more clarity who I was and how I got here and why I believe what I believe and do what I do and how I have become who I am now.

I've been careful and polite for a long time. I''ve taken the path of least resistance my whole life and it has haunted me.

it's about time to be my own superhero.

Diggin This.

2010-09-14T10:36:00.001-07:00

Hum Bao at Pike Street Market

2010-09-03T16:44:00.000-07:00

I am known to swoon over a good Hum Bao.

Not only does the soft, slightly sweet, warm doughy savory pastry make me deliriously happy because it seems to be a most excellent comfort food, but Hum Bao has romantic connotations for me as well... it was exactly what my husband and I ordered on New Years day many years ago when we first decided to move in together.

Every once in a while, on cool rainy Sunday mornings, we take my children to China Town down town Portland, and treat them to Dim Sum and Hum Bao at The House of Louie.

Last week, the hubs and I introduced Emma to the best Hum Bao in Seattle...

Breakfast in Seattle

2010-09-01T16:04:00.000-07:00

I know I know.
I've been missing in action for the past week or so.

No worries, though, all is well... it just so happened that a very romantic Subtly Amazing Husband whisked me and my youngest daughter off to Seattle for a week as an "end of the summer" and anniversary (five years!) surprise. It was quite last minute, as we found out that we were both able to take some time off our work at the Culinary School right after the August class began. My only regret was that the older, adorable kiddos had volleyball and football try-outs and daily doubles, so they couldn't join us, and stayed in town with dad.

The hubs strapped our bikes to the back of the car. I packed a bag of notebooks, felt pens, and books for Emma to entertain herself in the backseat, and we took off for a road trip.

I have been back at work this week, catching up, but for now I thought I'd share a few lovely photos of an AMAZING breakfast we were treated to by old friends, Shawna and Brian on our last day of vacation(I took their wedding photos a while back!)

(we met their new little bundle of joy, Ursula too)

At Lola in downtown Seattle, close to Brian's work, we munched on fresh "made-to-order" doughnuts with marscapone and marmalade to begin with, and Emma was thrilled to find out that they happen to be her favorite Food Network Star, Giada De Laurentiis guilty pleasure as well.

Shawna ordered a Seattle Specialty, "Tom's Big Breakfast," which was somewhat of an Octopus Hash.
She let me try it -- it was superbly delicious.

and Brian ordered the most photogenic breakfast entree on the menu.

Everything was fantastic and the restaurant was vibrant and humming at 10:00 in the morning that Friday.

One thing about working at a Culinary School is that vacations are partly, sometimes MOSTLY, centered around what and where to eat.

More to come about that, as well as more Seattle Adventures in the next few postings~

Dulce de Leche Cheescake Bars

2010-08-20T14:22:00.000-07:00

We are taking the kiddos on a quick little Road Trip to the high desert this weekend.

I’m packing our shorts, tee shirts, sweatshirts and books, figuring out what roadside attractions we should stop at to take classic dorky family snapshots at, and tonight I’m baking Dulce de Leche Cheesecake Bars to nibble on in the car on the way over.

The sweet/salty goodness is wonderful, and they wrap up easily in a little parchment paper. They are super easy to make and addictive. Double the recipe if you like, and keep a batch in the freezer to pack in lunches when school starts up again.

The kids will love them.

Dulce de Leche Cheesecake Bars:

Crust:

• Nonstick vegetable oil spray

• 2 1/4 cups crushed graham crackers (about 17 whole graham crackers)

• 2 tablespoons brown sugar

• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

• 10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, melted

Filling:

• 3 8-ounce packages cream cheese, room temperature

• 1 cup sugar

• 3 large eggs

• 1/2 cup purchased dulce de leche* (found in the Latin food section at most grocery stores)

• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Glaze:

• 2/3 cup purchased dulce de leche

• 3 tablespoons (or more) heavy whipping cream

• Fleur de sel

For crust:

Preheat oven to 350°F. Coat 13 x 9 x 2-inch metal baking pan with nonstick spray. Mix graham cracker crumbs, sugar, and cinnamon in medium bowl. Add melted butter; and stir until coated. Transfer crumb mixture to pan. Press evenly onto bottom of pan. Bake until crust is light golden, about 10 minutes. Cool completely on rack.

For filling:

Blend cream cheese and sugar in processor until smooth and creamy, for about 1 minute, stopping occasionally to scrape down sides of bowl. Add eggs 1 at a time, processing 3 to 5 seconds to blend between additions. Add dulce de leche and vanilla; process until blended, about 10 seconds. Spread batter evenly over cooled crust. Bake until just set in center and edges are puffed and slightly cracked, about 38 minutes. Transfer to rack; cool completely.

For glaze:

Heat dulce de leche and 3 tablespoons cream in a bowl in 10-second intervals until melted. Stir to blend, adding more cream by teaspoonfuls if too thick to pour (amount of cream needed will depend on brand of dulce de leche). Pour glaze over cooled cheesecake; spread evenly.
Refrigerate until chilled, about 1 hour (glaze will not be firm). DO AHEAD: Can be made 2 days ahead. Cover; chill.

Cut cheesecake lengthwise into 4 strips, then crosswise into 6 strips, forming 24 bars. Sprinkle bars with fleur de sel.

Have a fabulous weekend Kittens.

{recipe and Dulce de Leche Bar photo from Epicurious.com}

Summertime Bubbly

2010-08-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

Hana Awaka sparkling Sake is an irreverent but glamorous nod to Pink Champagne... not quite as lovely as The Good Stuff, but not as low brow as Mountain Dew spiked with generic vodka either.

And it's the absolutely perfect refreshment on a warm weekday summer evening.

My friend Kelly and I discovered this sincerely sweet sparkling pink Sake on a road trip last year in Seattle. We played the appropriate road trip soundtrack, (Annie Lenox, Ingrid Michaelson, Feist and Cat Power) and we stopped in at the Asian Market, Uwajimaya in downtown Seattle to shop for fruits and foods we'd never seen before and didn't recognize. What we accidently discovered was this little treat:

Hana Awaka is lightly and bubbly, a sweet pink Sake that's in a very pretty bottle. Cava and Prosecco are perfect light sparkling wines that I love to splurge on every now and again, and I usually keep a small supply on hand in the fridge to celebrate lifes everyday surprises. Now this Japanese version is added to my list of favorites. The flyer at the market declared that it would "bring your taste buds alive with bursting bubbles," and it actually did. The flavor was light and sweeter than most sakes, which I enjoyed immensely.

In Portland, we have precious few hot summer nights to enjoy sparkling wines, but you can find this particular beverage on the shelves of the downtown Burnside Fred Meyer store and at the Beaverton Uwajimaya.

It's super girly.

Best served with a bedable pink straw.

Pink of course.

Joe + Sue = A Wedding

2010-08-17T17:48:00.000-07:00

I've been busy working on photos during the past couple of weeks... I always want to perfectly capture the momentous day, and show not only what happened, how it looked, and what the couple is like, but how it felt.

When I take wedding photos, for strangers, or, in the case of Joe and Sue last weekend, close friends, it is a pleasure for me in every aspect. I adore making emotionally powerful images that reflect who the bride, the groom, their family and friends are.

I blend into the wedding like a stealth photographer-ninja and I capture the one of a kind day as it unfolds with my camera.

I am moved by every wedding I have the honor of recording. I think I get emotional every time, because my own marriage and wedding, to my subtly amazing husband, is so meaningful to me. I cannot help but feel overwhelmed and honored to be given the responsibility to record that special of a day for years to come.

Love is a magical thing.

Happy Wedding, Happy Life Joe and Sue

August Snow

2010-08-05T16:22:00.000-07:00

Jake Davis Test Shots: Tanya Romero from Jake Davis on Vimeo.

I've been preoccupied with editing and post processing lately. Joe and Sue's wedding was a smash hit last weekend and I have the photographs to prove it. (watch out for the dance-off stills, they will rock your world) I'll have some eye candy ready to post early next week, so stay tuned.

In the meantime, thought I'd introduce you to one of my favorite little films, done by a terrific up-and-coming film/video artist, Jake Davis.

It's really stunning, and makes me think that someday, I need to visit New York in winter.

Ciao for now Lovelies~

Otter Pops for Grownups

2010-08-02T18:09:00.000-07:00

During the hot days of summer, sometimes nothing tastes better than an icy cold frozen neon colored Popsicle confection.

Whether you go for the classic suburban standby Otter Pops, or the naturally flavored, healthier versions found at Whole Foods and New Seasons, try this handy little tip to make a special treat for Moms and Dads:

Freeze the pops in their plastic sleeves for about 1 hour. Stand a few up, in a tall glass, then carefully clip open the top and squeeze out about an inch or two of frozen pop. Let it melt slightly, until it is about the consistency of a Slurpee. Using a funnel, top off with a bit of white rum or tequila and re-freeze.

PS~ Be sure to label the adult version of pops in the freezer!

Have a gorgeous weekend darlings.

2010-07-30T15:36:00.000-07:00

{photo by Nathanial Goldberg, first published in Italian Vogue}

Taking Photos of Your Kids

2010-07-29T17:23:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I take for granted the fact that my adorable kiddos have grown up mugging for the camera.
I’m biased of course. Being the typical proud mom and part time professional photographer, I think my children are adorable and photogenic. All kids are photogenic, and really, all parents can take professional looking photos of their rugrats. You don’t even need a fancy or expensive camera.

But there are some tricks.

Trick #1:

Take your camera everywhere – One reason why my kids always look relaxed in photos without the awkward squinty-eyed overly dramatized smile is because they are used to me shooting photos of them. ALL THE TIME. I wear a camera like jewelry, and consider it a part of my outfit.

When you are just getting started, tell yourself you don’t even care about any of the photos you take during maybe, the first three days you are clicking away… just get comfortable with your camera and learn about what it can do while your children get comfortable in front of it.

Trick #2:

Camera angle – I am always surprised at how many people stand too far away from their subject, making it a small focal point in the middle of a lot of distracting scenery. Get down to your child’s level. Kneel, or sit at the table with them. If you start taking a lot of photos, they’ll get used to you sooner or later and go about their business while you get the perfect portrait.

Trick #3:

The right lighting – whenever possible, I try to use natural light. Soft, pastel light indoors is flattering and realistic, and the grey and overcast Portland weather is actually ideal for taking photos inside near a window. Soft grey light streaming in through the windows in the early part of the day is perfect and acts like a natural soft box. If the light is too dim and your lens is not quite fast enough, try to steady yourself as much as possible to avoid camera shake. Sit down, or even lie down on the floor near your child as they play in the window light and click away. If you happen to have an on camera flash, turn it off and test out a few shots without it. If they are too blurry, turn it back on for sharper images. Another trick with on camera flash that I love is to use it in its full glory when you are outside in the sunshine. It freezes the actions, sharpens the picture, fills in shadows and makes bright colors pop!

Trick #4:

Interesting props—don’t try to ‘pose’ your child… let them rifle through the dress up pile and create their own outfit. Buy a photogenic oversized red ball or fill a clear clean plastic cup with bubble solution in the summer and let them simply play. One of my favorite portraits of a brother and sister was a photo I took of them sitting together on a patchwork blanket with their teddy bears and tea-cups, having a party. In the fall, think about buying bright yellow rain slickers and boots, and let them do a little puddle stomping while you shoot photos(turn the flash on to capture the splash suspended in mid air!).

The key here is, make it fun.

Trick #6:

Have a relaxed attitude – with the practice of taking photos every day, you’ll become more acquainted with your camera and you won’t feel the pressure of getting ‘just the right shot’ on Holidays and during those milestones we want to freeze forever in the family album. Kids seem to sense the pressure of posed photos and seem to either melt down or misbehave more than usual, making it almost impossible to get a good picture. As the photographer, make them comfortable by smiling yourself, resisting the urge to pose them or bark orders at them, like photos are a chore. Let them be themselves. My favorite photos of kids are when they are simply being themselves and don't feel the pressure to perform. I catch the best expressions when my kids are not even smiling.

My last piece of advice is to stretch the boundaries of your creativity. Think about new angles to shoot from, like lying on your back on the ground looking up at your child, swing next to them as you video tape on the swing set while playing in the park. Take photos of the bits and pieces of your child’s world… their pudgy toes, focus on their hand holding a crayon, or have them hold out a favorite toy for you to shoot with them looking like a bit of a blur in the background.

Sometimes, let them make a face...

These kinds of photos can be immensely emotionally satisfying and convey much more than the sum of their parts. These are the photos of real life.

Brophy's Tea

2010-07-28T17:16:00.000-07:00

Chef Brophy is an enigma.

We met about 9 years ago, when I started working for another culinary school in town, and right away, I knew he was a likable character. We are both happily working at Oregon Culinary Institute now, a smaller, locally owned school that was started up by some of the most experienced and passionate chef's from a much larger chain brand school. Chef Brophy is not only an accomplished Chef and instructor, he's also a Master Gardner, a Marine Biologist (most specifically, an 'edible inner tidal specialist') and he's cooked and taught professionally for over 34 years. Brophy's stoic demeanor, his bristly moustache, and bushy eyebrows subtly disguise the very dry sense of humor bubbling just beneath the surface. (the sparkle in his eyes give him away most of the time) He is one of the most well educated and interesting chef instructors I know. He has encyclopedic knowledge of sea food, gardening, heirloom tomatoes, mushrooms, how to raise chickens in the city, and of course... tea.

This morning, Brophy brought me a lovely gift. My own can of his favorite morning beverage, the weird and wonderful tea he recently turned me onto:

Lapsang Souchong.

It's an acquired taste to say the least. You either love it or you hate it. The strong scent of campfire wafts through the air in my office when I brew a cup of it. Chef Brophy suggests bringing water the the peak boiling point so that the dried leaves unfurl and give you the strongest and most aromatic and strong flavor.

The taste and smell of reminds me of pulling my sweatshirt around me while sitting close to a summer campfire. It reminds me of the smell of fall in the forest, keeping warm on the beach at the Oregon Coast and roasting marshmallow's over an open flame.

Brophy said this particular sort of tea used to be popular with sailors and was served to men in battle in Europe years ago. One story tells of a warehouse in China where many soldiers camped nearby, and when they left, the tea makers had to quickly finish drying the tea by roasting the leaves over fires made of damp pine. When I looked online, I found another story about a similar smoky tea, Russian Caravan:

"The name refers to the long, overland journey that tea would travel on from China to the markets in Moscow. Wooden chests of rather bland tasting tea would travel on camel back, often taking a year to complete the journey. This Russian-bound tea was famous for the smell of the many campfires it would absorb along the way. And thus, the smoky tea varieties became associated with Russia, and often have Slavic or Russian monarchy names, like Czar Nikolai or Ekaterina"

I love a good story behind the things I eat and drink.

It elevates the experience.

Wedding Fever

2010-07-26T15:22:00.000-07:00

I'm a sucker for weddings.

This upcoming Sunday I'll be shooting Joe and Sue's big day, and I can't wait. The ceremony will be at the Ecotrust building in the Pearl, on the roof at sunset and Lincoln restaurant will be catering. It'll be gorgeous. Not only are they a beautiful looking couple, (Joe is a dead ringer for Keanu Reeves and Sue could be Gweneth Paltrow's prettier and younger sister)they are also wonderful people and beloved friends.

The whole weekend is booked with fun filled activities: Rehearsal Dinner at Oregon Culinary Institute Restaurant, our friends and their band, Maggie's Choice will be playing at Mississippi Studios, and our buddy Henning from Switzerland is even coming! I am of course their photographer, and the hubs is going to MC at the reception.

So stay tuned my lovelies.

In the meantime, here are a few favorites from the past couple of years...

{more wedding photography on my website, uncommonMuse}

Koi Fusion

2010-07-23T15:26:00.000-07:00

Lunch in Portland can be a gorgeous thing.

If you've been paying any kind of attention at all this week, you may have heard that our fair, green and unique little city was pronounced by CNN to have World's Best Street Food.

I completely agree. And the chef's at my school whole-heartedly agree. The food savvy students training in Culinary Arts, and almost everyone who spends anytime downtown at lunchtime with at least $5 in their pocket would also agree. The food at the little carts that line the streets of Portland is incredibly yummy, usually quite cheap (for the large servings they dole out), and some of them serve healthy fare to boot.

I'll have to spend a little time later on, blog-swooning about the many food carts to choose from and what exactly a food cart 'Pod' is... but for now, as I munch on sublime Korean tacos from my current favorite cart, Koi Fusion at my desk, I am lost in the wonderful combination of flavors. Fresh tortilla, crispy cilantro, tangy lime, savory shredded Korean beef, crunchy sprouts, a bit of cucumber...

and the Best part is, it only cost me $3.

PS~the cart moves around quite a bit... one night on Mississippi Street, one night on Hawthorne, lunchtime near Portland State in the Park Blocks... you must follow them on Twitter to find out where they are. It's fun. Like hunting down your food, there's a thrill in it.

Have a lovely weekend darlings.

Chocolate Dream Fridge

2010-07-22T16:08:00.000-07:00

Check out the drawer full of chocolate...

I would have no willpower.

{photo from The Selby is In Your Place}

Good vs Evil at Kelly's Olympian

2010-07-21T13:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I divulged the secret that I have a thing for Portland low-brow haunts. You know, dive bars, hole-in-the-wall eateries, food carts... little known out of the way places with lot's of personality.

Anyway, the confession made me feel nostalgic.

I think one of the reasons I'm so drawn to these places, is that they were the settings where a love story unfolded. My love story. When I first met my husband, I was rather newly divorced. We worked together at another culinary school in town, became friends, and spent evenings after work, talking, eating, listening to music and eventually, falling in love around Portland.

Next month is our 5th wedding anniversary. This little story, tells about a night that may well have been the very beginning of our romance.

Good vs Evil at Kelly’s Olympian

We sat across from each other at Kelly’s Olympian bar downtown after work. I had never been to this sort of a bar before. It was dark, except for the numerous neon signs electrifying the walls. Classic motorcycles hung suspended over our heads and the tables were lined up closely against the wall. A thin strip of pathway separated us from the bar. There was so much to look at and so much to see, and I drank it all in. Sitting by himself at the end of the bar was a man in a cowboy hat. He had a handlebar moustache, plaid shirt, and long hair escaping out the back of his hat, trailing into a thin ponytail. He gripped a mug of beer in one hand, the droplets of condensation collecting around the base of it and onto the wet coaster, now clinging to the bar. He stared at the door and watched everyone who came and went.

Other patrons included the obligatory group of indie hipsters, who sat to our left and smoked. Most of them had dyed, long black hair with bangs draped across their faces and were cloaked in predictable uniform of black t-shirts and ripped denim jackets. They wore thick, black leather belts with studded silver edges, which didn’t seem necessary to hold skinny-leg, black and grey jeans to their undernourished frames. One wore cut-off black Carhart pants that were too big. He really did need the belt. He also wore black socks with faded black-and-white checkered Vans. I focused in on the Vans. I recognized those. I had some just like them in high school. Crap. Was he wearing them ironically, or were they actually cool again?

Kevin ordered us a sandwich. He said that he had been here a few times before, and since he wanted to show me a few other places, we thought it best to pace ourselves and split the sandwich. We ordered a couple of IPA’s that he recommended to go with our light dinner. I was happy to follow his lead. Visiting places like this was not a part of the life I was accustomed to, and I was fascinated. The music pulsed, and I tried to imagine myself,as I was back in my old life, sitting in this bar. It was very hard to picture.

Our turkey sandwich and a side of fries arrived, and we sipped our beer. I caught a glimpse of Kevin out of the corner of my eye. I secretly thought he was handsome, and I tried to act cool and nonchalant every time I was around him. I tried to be unimpressed and uninterested. I worked hard at not looking at him at all, directly or indirectly. I didn’t want to think of him in any way other than as a friend. After all, he had a girlfriend. A rock star girlfriend in fact. She was beautiful, had recorded her own CD, and had six pack abs according to the photos on her MySpace and Indie music website--I had a minivan, kids and a C section scar. In the back of my mind I kept thinking about how he was younger and so much cooler than me. I reminded myself that I was just along for the ride. I felt like Kevin was doing some sort of public service by escorting me around the city to show me the hip side of Portland nightlife. Why was he so polite in showing me around? I couldn’t help but wonder if he was a volunteer in a community outreach program to reintegrate ex-suburban soccer moms into the intricacies of city life.

Talking to Kevin was so easy to do. He never made me feel out of place or uncool. I wasn’t compelled to talk to him about things I used to always talk about, like the Fred Meyer ad from Sunday’s paper or which of the neighborhood kids was having a birthday party at Chuck-E-Cheese or the McDonald’s Play land that weekend, or which detergent did the best job of getting out dried gum and grass stains. Things like this never entered into our conversations, and it was refreshing. Instead, we talked about passages from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, and how, on nights when the moon was full, we both felt inspired to drive someplace open and high so we could bask in the moonlight. We talked about Spain, morning cartoons of our childhood, and which three things we would want with us if we were stranded on a deserted island.

We also talked about dreams.

“When I was a kid, I often dreamed about good versus evil… superheroes and villains, Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader… that sort of thing. I was always “the good guy”, or “good-girl”… or, well, you know. It was weird though, and tough, actually,” I said to him as he dragged a French fry across a pool of ketchup and popped it in his mouth. “I mean, if you meet a truly evil person and you know you should kill them, in your dream, because you are good-- you still don’t really want to kill them. It’s a tough one…to have to destroy the evil thing, but you have something in your heart and your conscience that prevents you from doing it. I always want to try and give the evil being a second chance. Maybe if you give it a chance, it will learn from it and become suddenly good.”

I recounted one particular dream in which I was a hero, a superhero, but with no actual super powers. Instead, I dreamed I wrestled a witch with my bare hands, squeezing her nose and pushing her into the ground, but then feeling sorry for her when I knew it was the moment that I needed to finish her off.

“I just sat back and let go. I couldn’t do it. But when she rose up again to grab me, I had no choice but to kill her. I felt bad, though. I felt sadness and a loss. Even though I didn’t think I should, because she was evil. But I still regretted hurting her. I know it sounds ridiculous… silly.”

I’d never confessed the odd dream to anyone. As silly as it seemed, it had haunted me most of my life -- a childhood dream I’d never let go of.

“I know. I had one like that too,” he said. “In mine, I was in some kind of post-apocalyptic desert landscape. I had come across a village that was plagued by an evil presence. The head of the village was some kind of demon -- I remember thinking ‘It’s Beelzebub.’”

We both laughed out loud.

“It had a big bulky body but a tiny face on its head. It was pretty creepy looking. This demon had been wreaking havoc on the village, but it always blamed it on his sidekick, who was essentially the village idiot. And incredibly, everyone believed it, and each time something bad happened, they shrugged, as if to say ‘it’s the village idiot – we can’t do anything about it.’ I couldn’t believe it, but I knew that it was up to me to kill the demon.”

Kevin grabbed his pint glass and took a drink, and seemed to be collecting his thoughts. He looked around before re-establishing eye contact with me again.

“So I fought the demon. I don’t remember much about the actual fight, but I do remember having it on the ground and kneeling on its neck, suffocating it. I realized I was killing it, and I just slightly let my knee up. The moment I did, it filled with life and I immediately sensed the venom and evil resurge in it. In that split second, I dropped my knee, crushing its windpipe and killing it. It gave me no choice. There was too much at stake. I woke up and wrote that dream down because it was so wild.”

He paused, perhaps for dramatic effect.

“It’s been years now, but I still feel that offing Beelzebub was the right decision.”

He smiled wryly.

I sat there in this bar, looking at Kevin and considering that our dreams were eerily similar. I wondered if he’d told his girlfriend this story. I wondered if she had dreams about fighting evil and shared them with him. I secretly hoped not.

Kevin paid the bill, and I left the tip. We stepped out of the bar into the cool evening air. As the door swung shut, the loud, pounding music instantly became muffled, and I could hear the sounds of the city. For a minute we stood there just outside the front door. I realized I had a comfortable little buzz going, certainly from the IPA but partly from being out so uncharacteristically late. It was after 10 PM.

I looked down at my black boots, the leather of the toe reflecting in the street light. I thought high-heeled black boots might make me look like a superhero, maybe Batgirl or Cat Woman. Or even Lara Croft. I wondered if choosing your fashion statement based on a superhero instead of a model was okay. I didn’t care. I had always preferred superheroes to supermodels. Maybe all of my good-versus-evil-themed dreams had something to do with my lifelong fascination with them.

Finding out that Kevin had dreams like mine made me wonder even more about him -- what was he like? Why did he seem to have such a strong moral compass and sense of right and wrong? Did he get it from his parents? I wondered if it is something you come by naturally or by default because of how you are raised or what books you read or what movies you watch. Do church and religion really have much to do with understanding right from wrong and making decisions accordingly?

I wondered what it would be like to see me in my old church now, in my high-heeled black boots, black pencil skirt, hair smelling like cigarette smoke, and beer on my breath. What would Pastor Gill think? My mind wandered. I pictured a scene of superheroes sitting in church pews. Would they be in the front row? Who would preach to them? A regular, everyday pastor? More likely, someone famous, like the Pope. Or better yet, Professor Xavier from X-Men. I wondered if Xavier believed in God. I wondered what the sermon would be about. And would the superheroes swoosh their capes over the back of the pew or sit with it under them? Wouldn’t it get more wrinkled that way? No, the fabric was probably super enough that it didn’t wrinkle. I wanted some of that fabric. The effects of the beer must have begun to wear off. My true identity was beginning to surface.

“I want to show you something”.

Kevin started walking across the Old Town Street and I matched his brisk pace. We ducked under a brick archway and found ourselves in a small, open space, almost like a ceiling-less urban garden arena. There was ivy growing on the walls, and exposed brick from the adjoining buildings was crumbling and looked phosphorescent in the moonlight. There was a quiet grace about this place, beautiful in its decomposition. I wasn’t sure what it had been or what it was now. When I lowered my eyes I thought that maybe it was a parking lot during the day, but in the dark cover of night, I was beginning to sense its former self. I could almost hear echoes of the debauchery of frontier nightlife. It was a city ruin, alive with moonlit ghosts.

“Portland has a lot of places like this.”

I could tell that Kevin sensed the sublimity and history of this peculiar, mystical space. I wanted him to show me more. We stood there for a moment, looking around and at the moon overhead. We stepped back out onto the street.

We silently walked on, probably headed to the next bar for another drink and to listen to some music. We were side-by-side, moving with effortless purpose, my stride matching his.

Like Batman and Batgirl.

Por Que No?

2010-07-20T14:46:00.000-07:00

My subtly amazing husband and I spent a weekend at the Oregon Coast to celebrate his birthday. We hiked through old growth forests and took in the views at Ecola State Park, walked on the beach, hung out at Bella’s Coffee Shop, and we relaxed. We didn’t really go out to eat at all, other than for a couple of bowls of chowder at Bill’s Tavern and a burger at the Warren House. Instead, we survived on Mike’s Hard Lemonade, crackers, cheese, and Red Vines. It was the ultimate weird and spare, sort of vacation-junk-food-diet.

But on our way home Sunday, craving some quality bites, we hit Por Que No? on Mississippi Street for the most fabulous early Sunday supper.

I’ve been talking to a young man who is moving from Northern California to Portland with his family in the next few months so he can attend my school. His long term goal is to become a chef, and one of the reasons he wants to move to Portland Oregon is not just because of Oregon Culinary Institute, but because of the fantastic local food scene. I’ve been emailing him and chatting with him, doling out advice and words of wisdom about the places to eat in Portland, and it’s made me realize my tastes are actually rather fine-tuned. I especially love simple food with unique and bright flavor. I prefer relaxed, less expensive restaurants, and even food carts and dive bars to the swanky shi shi sit down establishments in town. And if the place is decorated with second hand treasures and recycled materials, all the better. I respect high quality, local, fresh, seasonal, sustainable ingredients. I suppose this makes me, quite thoroughly, a true Portlander.

Por Que No? is in my neighborhood and takes us only about 5 minutes by car or 20 minutes by bike. It‘s about the only place where you can buy a cup of fresh organic blueberry juice, melon sangria, or Jasmine Iced tea that’s made with all local ingredients.

The whole restaurant is quite small, making it technically a “hole in the wall,” but the food and flavors defy the diminutive size of the kitchen. You almost always have to stand in line to order, but the people are relaxed and happy and it doesn’t seem to bother anyone because it’s SO worth the wait. The food is absolutely incredible... fresh, inexpensive, and healthy dishes that are perfectly prepared every time make it a favorite to Portland Foodies and Chef’s. The flavors are tangy and bright, crisp and authentic. Even the tortillas are homemade and the chips made from them are thick and crisp and lovely, deep fried in rice bran oil.

While we enjoyed our Carnitas tacos , the line-caught-fish taco crema, cabbage and mango,

and our seasonal Sangria and Tecante,

a charming woman from the Urban Farm Collective stopped at our table to offer us free fresh veggies from her city-based farm...

For as much as I love a weekend get-away and travelling around Oregon, I still love coming home to the best food around... and Por Que No? Is Oh So Portland.

Cheers Darlings

Pizza--deconstructed.

2010-07-19T18:09:00.000-07:00

I've been on a fruit and cheese combo kick lately, and craving nontraditional flavors like mad.

My oldest daughter invited her friend over for dinner last week, and I had a wild hair to create a pizza using a cornbread crust (found in the freezer section at New Seasons), fresh figs, toasted hazelnuts and crumbled Gorgonzola cheese. (Luckily, Lizzie's friend is unusually brave for a teenager and has a rather sophisticated palate, so I was not too worried about scaring her off) At the grocery store, I couldn't find a single fig, so I substituted them with apricots. I grabbed a sweet onion to caramelize in the cast iron skillet, thinking to add an additional note of sweetness, with a savory finish, along with some spicy Arugula greens to sprinkle on top or eat as a side, drizzled with olive oil.

It turned out to be quite lovely, and super fast and easy to make. The girls ate the entire thing by themselves, so it's a good thing the cornbread crusts come in a double package.

Fruit and Nut Pizza with Gorgonzola

1 frozen cornbread pizza crust
3 sliced apricots (or figs, which is my favorite)
1/2 of a sweet Walla Walla onion, sliced thinly and caramelized with a bit of olive oil and brown sugar
a small handful of crumbled Gorgonzola
a small handful of toasted chopped hazelnuts (although whole is nice too... a little extra crunch)

honey

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

Assemble all of the main ingredients loosely and artistically on the crust while it is still frozen. Drizzle on a bit of honey and bake for about 18 minutes or until cheese is a little gooey and the crust is slightly browned. Top with spicy greens if you like or serve them as a salad on the side.

How to be Glamourous at the Oregon Coast

2010-07-16T12:57:00.000-07:00

It is actually possible. Just stick to the list.

1. Pack a cooler with a bottle of Pinot Noir, 2 plastic tumblers, some olives, crackers and brie

2. Bring a classic, wool Pendleton blanket to spread out on the beach

3. Hit Powell’s on the way out of town, grab a copy of Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote, and a book about Oregon Coast Tide Pool Ecosystems and NW Coastal Wineries

4. Wear classic Ray Ban sunglasses, even if it’s overcast

5. Wear red lipstick

6. Find a swimsuit in polar fleece if at all possible

7. Bring an oversize sweater as a cover up in case your swimsuit is not thermally insulated

8. When you shiver, try to look sexy and adorable. Marilyn did it.

Ta Ta for now Kittens, and have a lovely weekend, wherever you are!

Backyard Raspberries

2010-07-15T16:33:00.000-07:00

Happy Summer Kittens!

Gi Gi's Zucchini Muffins

2010-07-14T17:14:00.000-07:00

My mother was a stay at home mom, and for many years, when my kids were very little, so was I.

Every summer when I was growing up, mom would take us out berry picking, we helped her make freezer jam and homemade popsicles and she'd give us own little plot of earth to garden and we could choose whatever kinds of seeds to plant. We drank iced tea with sugar cubes, ran in the sprinkler, camped out in the back yard and would lie on our backs for hours on towels on the lawn, just looking at the sky, daydreaming.

My mother planted her own vegetable garden every summer, and one of her favorite things to grow was zucchini. She’d harvest huge batches of it, and used it in soups; she’d slice it up, dot it with butter and bake it in a Pyrex dish the oven. My father would grill it, brushed with olive oil and fresh rosemary, and my sister and I would shred piles of it to be used in casseroles, loaves of bread, cookies and muffins. My favorite was my mother’s zucchini bread. Her mother, my grandmother Gi Gi, passed the recipe down to her, and a summer didn’t go by that we didn’t bake and enjoy many loaves of the dark, moist, sweet cake-like bread.

When my kiddos were babies, toddlers and preschoolers, I tried to create similar experiences for them. One of my favorite things to do with them in the summer was to buy a new plastic play pool at the grocery store, and fill it with buckets of warm water from the kitchen sink. I’d make sure it was strategically positioned underneath the shade of the little apple tree in our back yard, and I’d let them gather pink rose petals from the hedge roses that grew alongside the side of our house in our suburban neighborhood.

I bought them red white and blue rocket pops from the Schwann’s man that stopped by once a week, and we spent hours and hours, outside together, digging in the homemade sandbox, blowing bubbles and drawing with sidewalk chalk on the small patio near the sliding door.

And they loved zucchini bread as much as I did. On hot Saturday mornings, I’d take them to the Farmer’s Market in Beaverton and we’d buy a wagon full of zucchini. I salvaged small cheese graters at the Goodwill, just the right size for a child’s hands, and the kids would help me make the exact bread I’d grown up making in my mother’s kitchen.

Our lives have changed and summers are much different than when the kids were little. Now, they have seemingly endless days of games and a practice, playing little league baseball and softball, and my oldest spends most of her time with her friends and is scheduled to start Volleyball Camp very soon. My weekday job keeps me from leisurely days of sipping iced tea in the back yard and hanging out with my kids when they are out of school. But there are certain things that take us all back in time... some tastes, the comforting smells of baking, and recipes that have been handed down from grandmother to mother, help ease the pain of change. Certain recipes and foods remind me of quiet, simpler summers.

This is the recipe that belongs to my family. I’ve changed it up a bit this year, and rather than pouring the silky cake-like batter in loaf pans, I make it into muffins, which are much more convenient, popped into a Ziploc bag and taken to work or to a baseball game.

If you have a little extra time, the best way to perk them up to add a dollop of cool, tangy, sweet lemon cream cheese frosting on top.

Gi Gi's Zucchini Muffins

3 eggs, beaten until frothy
2 cups sugar
1 cup vegetable oil (I use melted unsalted butter now)
1 tablespoon vanilla pure vanilla extract
2 cups grated unpeeled zucchini

Blend all of the above ingredients together in a medium sized bowl and set aside.

Sift together in a large bowl:

3 cups flour (I use a blend of pastry flour and whole wheat, but use whatever you like)
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 tablespoon cinnamon

Pour the wet mixture into the dry and gently stir together until silky smooth. Bake in 2 loaf pans for 1 hour, or, if you opt to make muffins, just bake them for about 21 minutes, or until firm and golden around the edges.

Grandmother Gi Gi in her snappy green suit, 1967

Grilled Peaches with Gorgonzola and Cherry Sauce

2010-07-13T16:38:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago, my friend Carmen, who now resides in England, joined me for a weekend “Farmer’s Market” Cooking class at Oregon Culinary Institute. She’d seen a cover photo on Gourmet magazine, of grilled peaches with Gorgonzola cheese, and we decided to make it our signature dish that afternoon.

The chef’s taught us how to create a savory-sweet reduced red wine, butter, balsamic vinegar and cherry sauce which we drizzled over the grilled peaches that we’d found at the local market. The creamy melting Gorgonzola added a surprising tangy bite that really brought out the fresh peach flavor. To compliment the warm and juicy peaches, we whipped up a bit of very slightly sweetened heavy cream and topped it with a sprig of fresh mint. (Creme Fresh would be wonderful as well)

With peaches in season, I’m beginning to crave it again!

First, just buy the biggest, juiciest peaches you can find, about 6 of them. Then, simply wash them with cold water, pat dry, slice in half and place flatly on the grill. Keep an eye on them, it usually only takes about 4 or 5 minutes per peach to cook perfectly. They should be a bit squishy to the touch. Using tongs, remove from the grill onto a serving dish. Sprinkle about a tablespoon of crumbled Gorgonzola onto the hot peach so that it begins to melt and drizzle with sauce. (sauce should be started about 25 minutes before you grill the peaches)

Ingredients for Sauce:

• 2 lbs Cherries; stems removed or 1lb dried cherries, soaked in 1 cup red wine
• 1 c Red Wine
• 1 tb Balsamic vinegar
• 3 tbs Unsalted butter; room temperature

Preparation

In a medium saucepan, bring the cherries to a simmer in 1 cup red wine or water. Cook until cherries are soft. Using a metal strainer and rubber spatula, press the cooked cherries through the strainer to yield cherry puree. Discard skins and seeds. Return puree to saucepan and add balsamic vinegar. Bring sauce to a simmer slowly; whisk in small pieces of butter, being careful not to break the sauce.
Serve with a side of cool whipped cream, creme fresh or homemade vanilla ice cream.

Taste...

2010-07-12T16:26:00.000-07:00

An Italian Chef ,who looked like a movie star, taught me this super simple trick: just dip a chunk of aged Parmesan, chipped right off the block, into warm honey and pop it in your mouth. Then take a sip of cold Pinot Gris to wash it down.

Here you have the most delicious and spare combination of flavors, textures and temperatures bursting in your mouth all at once.

Take some to a picnic or serve it as an opening at your next supper party. Because sometimes, the simplest ingredients are the most brilliant.

Summer Shadows

2010-07-12T16:01:00.000-07:00

from my Flickr archives

Summer Steak Salad

2010-07-09T16:41:00.000-07:00

I’ve mentioned before that I have a huge crush on Jamie Oliver.

My hubs is just like him. Only brunette instead of blonde. American rather than English, and… well, he doesn’t really cook very often. So maybe he’s not JUST like Jamie Oliver. But he is cute, smart, and funny and charming -- like Mr. Oliver.

And he really loves good, healthy food. He believes in it. He embraces Jamie’s philosophy about cooking healthy dinners at home as much as I do, and we both preach to my kids about having a creative attitude about food, and we try to involve them in cooking and meal preparation whenever possible. My subtly amazing husband is pretty good at inventing easy, simple dishes, by throwing together just a few key ingredients.

Last night, on the way home from work, he had a perfect idea for dinner; an absolutely divine and amazing summer steak salad. We stopped at the New Seasons in NE, and found deep red, juicy organic cherries; buttery fresh tasting avocado, crispy cool red lettuce leaves, and a bit of ready -to-go, marinated lean steak from the butcher’s case. The weather has been extremely hot, and for as lovely as our Portland bungalow is, it is not air conditioned. Just the thought of cooking inside on days like today is enough to make me break into a sweat.

To go along with our invented salad, we picked up a bottle of Italian red wine, a freshly baked mini baguette with whole roasted garlic, and a pint dark chocolate ice cream for dessert. (Beer Ice Cream is on the menu for this weekend, but I doubt the kids will go for it)

Kev grilled the steak when we got home, which only took about 5 minutes, while I threw the salad together. The cherries took a little bit of work, but they added the perfect sweet juiciness to compliment the spicy meat and fresh greens. We ate outside on the picnic table in the backyard in sunglasses, sipped our wine, and listened to the neighbor’s sprinkler. A simple, romantic and lovely summer evening dinner at home.

Now if I could just get my husband to say 'brilliant' and 'veg' with an English accent.

Beer Ice Cream

2010-07-08T16:19:00.000-07:00

Guinness to be exact.

I posted my favorite "Salmon Poached in Beer" recipe in February, and from what I hear from my Gorgeous Bits Readers, it's been a huge success . Today, as I searched for the perfect after work summer dessert cocktail, I came across this fab recipe on the Food and Wine website. It may be the cure for the unusual 90 degree temperatures looming over Portland .

This recipe has definitely inspired me to dig the inexpensive little ice-cream maker I bought at Fred Meyer last summer for under $20, and whip up a batch to help celebrate Friday night. My diabolical plan is to freeze it overnight, then serve it with an additional cold Guinness poured over the top, soda-shop-float style, with maybe a few store bought chocolate covered pretzels stuck in the top as garnish.

Yum.

Ingredients:

2 cups Guinness (16 ounces)
2 cups heavy cream
1 3/4 cups whole milk
15 large egg yolks
1 cup granulated sugar

Directions:

1.In a large saucepan, combine the Guinness with the cream and milk and bring to a simmer over moderately high heat. In a large bowl, whisk the egg yolks with the sugar. Gradually add the hot Guinness cream to the yolks, whisking constantly until well blended.

2.Pour the mixture into the saucepan and cook over moderate heat, stirring constantly until it coats the back of a spoon, about 6 minutes; do not let it boil. Pour the custard into a medium bowl set in a large bowl filled with ice water. Let stand until the custard is cold, stirring occasionally, about 30 minutes.

3.Pour the custard into an ice cream maker and freeze according to the manufacturer's instructions. Pack the ice cream into an airtight container and freeze until firm, about 4 hours.

{photo via Restaurant Widow}

Tarts!

2010-07-07T18:01:00.000-07:00

Gorgeous sinful tarts... the third annual Concours de Tartes aux Fruits competition was at Oregon Culinary Institute last week and the entries were to die for. Just thought I'd tantalize you with the lucious-ness of it all:

{photos by my subtly amazing hubby who stole my camera}

Lincoln

2010-07-02T15:30:00.000-07:00

In August I'll be shooting another wedding. Our great friends, Joe and Sue are taking the plunge and tying the knot.

Joe was visiting from Seattle to firm up wedding plans, and invited the hubs and I out for dinner and to taste wines for the wedding at Lincoln, a super cool little restaurant in NE off of Williams.

The food was really good. Perfectly and sparingly prepared, with seasonal fresh tasting, local ingredients. An exercise in restraint, really. The appetizers, salads, desserts and entrees were not over-done over spiced or manipulated in any way... the ingredients were allowed to 'speak for themselves'. Lincoln's philosophy seems to be to allow simple fresh flavor to shine through all of their dishes. One of the Chefs, Ben, is a graduate from Oregon Culinary Institute.

We ordered a couple of starters, including Chef owner Jenn Louis's famous baked fresh hen eggs. They are a symphony of delight, comforting and delicious, with cream, with green olives and herbed breadcrumbs, served piping hot in a ceramic dish;

then gorgeous, mouthwatering airy croquettes with a tiny bit of shaved Parmesan and saffron Aioli...

and arugula greens with local lamb bacon, toasted sugared walnuts and yellow raisins.

The dining space is informal and classy at the same time, with high ceilings, glowing votive candles, cool Frank Lloyd Wright style fixtures, and enormous glass windows that let the soft blue-grey Portland light wash over the recycled wood tables. The vibe is exceedingly comfortable and our waitress was angelic and attentive.

Next time you're in NE Portland, check it out.

The Hood River Escape

2010-07-01T17:37:00.000-07:00

Laundry.

Organizing the hall closet.

Weeding between the cracks in the sidewalk that lead up to the house... wondering if salmon is on sale this week, and if it is, can I buy it at the sale price as a fillet or do I have to buy the whole damn fish?

These are the monotonous thoughts of weekend chores that fill my mind and rattle through my head most Saturday mornings. It usually takes getting out of town to escape a daunting/haunting, massive, self-inflicted To Do list.

A couple of weekends ago, I mentioned the Hubs was going to whisk me away.

Well he did.

Being a "modern blended family" means that my three children are with their Dad some weekends, and it offers us the chance to indulge in romantic weekend escapes. You don't have to travel far, the whole point is to set the time aside, and do something just a little out of the ordinary. It's good for your sanity and great for a marriage.

We drove to Hood River, only one hour from our Portland bungalow in NE, but it was light years away from our ordinary weekend life.

We stayed at the most fabulous hotel, The Hood River Hotel, in downtown Hood River, right on Oak Street. Our hotel room was bright and old fashioned, with softly glowing original oak wood floors and huge windows that let in the fresh air and light. It was sparingly decorated with a simple and well equipped little kitchen, antique wardrobe, armoire, table and chairs, and a cool four poster bed with soft cotton sheets and a classic American Quilt.

When we slipped the key into the latch and walked in, I felt like we'd found a corner of Oregon, back in time, that was all our own.

The Hood River Hotel is locally owned, and in the very heart of downtown Hood River. Our room looked out over the town's main street, but there are also rooms with terrific views of the Gorge and Columbia River.

The lobby is cool and relaxing, with dark wood trim and comfy antique furniture. There's a huge beautiful fireplace where I could see myself curled up, in winter, enjoying a cup of coffee and a book. The front desk offered great suggestions of places near by, within easy walking distance. If we planned on visiting wineries, taking the Mt Hood Railroad or sipping cocktails and checking out local artwork, we wouldn't have far to venture.

For me though, it was finally a time to write and relax. With the siren call of chores at home silenced, I set up my laptop on the antique kitchen table in our quaint little apartment style hotel room and wrote. My subtly amazing husband foraged for snacks, crackers, cheese and wine and we spent most of our stay cacooned in our room.

The little bar and restaurant adjacent to the lobby offers the most delectable cocktails and was featuring fresh Hood River strawberry margaritas. For breakfast, we used our complimentary gift certificate for a decadent farm style breakfast.

I'm already looking at the calendar to plan our next visit.

Oregon Strawberries

2010-06-25T14:38:00.000-07:00

Weeknight dinners are usually simple.

I try to get away with using as few ingredients as possible. Seasoning salmon with a couple pinches of sea salt, and a drizzle of olive oil, then roasting it in the oven at 400 degrees while sautéing a veg with a bit more sea salt and garlic on the stovetop usually does it. Dinner can be served 20 minutes after coming home from work. Last night, as I picked out my asparagus at New Seasons market, the produce clerk was stacking little green cardboard boxes filled with ruby-red Hood River strawberries, just delivered by a local farmer. The smell of berries permeated the air, and everyone in the store seemed to gravitate to the produce section.

I adore strawberries. ALL strawberries. Fresh, frozen, sliced, made into jam or jelly, however I can get them, I’ll eat them. Once the first boxes of strawberries, usually from California, hit the shelves in the summer, I can’t help but buy them. But the smell and flavor of freshly picked Oregon seasonal berries is divine, like nothing else in the world. Last night, smelling and seeing them tumbling out of their little flats, I was whisked back in time to summers in junior high when I’d pedaled my bicycle down the winding country roads in Wilsonville early in the morning to pick berries at Wilhelm Farms. I earned about twenty cents a box—and it took me all summer to save up enough for Cherokee Rope sandals and a pair of San Francisco Riding Gear Jeans.

I grabbed up a little box of the juicy berries and tossed it into my basket. For dinner, I lay the perfectly roasted salmon fillet over a bed of sautéed asparagus, and sliced a handful of Hood River strawberries on top. The flavor combination was heavenly. My subtly amazing husband poured us a glass of Pinot Gris to wash it down.

This week, I plan to purchase my weight in Oregon Strawberries. If the weekend schedule allows, I may wind up carting my kids out to Wilsonville to help me forage at a U-pick farm, or we’ll hit a Farmer’s Market, or maybe just go back to New Seasons for more. However we get our hands on them, I plan on blissing out on local strawberries and somehow, add them to every meal. After all, the season is sadly short, and once they are gone, it’s back to the usual imported berries that just don’t have the same deeply strawberry-ish scent and flavor that has the power to make my socks go up and down.

*I tried this recipe last year, adapted from an old Gourmet magazine article, and LOVED it. It’s the ideal blend of spicy and sweet, and is a gorgeous color to boot. Serve with blue corn tortilla chips and it would be perfect for a Fourth of July Barbeque appetizer, or use as a fresh fruit salsa on grilled fish.

Avocado and Strawberry Salsa
• fresh Serrano or jalapeño chili
• 2 firm ripe avocados
• 1 cup finely chopped strawberries
• 1/4 cup finely chopped white onion
• 2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro
• 1 teaspoon fresh lime juice
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• ¼- ½ teaspoon sugar (can be omitted if you like)

... and plenty of Corn tortilla chips to serve on the side

To make salsa:

Wearing rubber gloves, remove stems, seeds, and ribs from chili and chop fine. Dice avocados and stir together chili and remaining salsa ingredients. Salsa may be made several hours ahead and chilled, covered.

THIS is what Awesome looks like

2010-06-24T13:27:00.000-07:00

I want to be brave, and creative and stylish, no matter how old I am.

{photo from the NY Times via Uncle Beefy}

Embrace the day kittens.

The Essence of Ed

2010-06-23T13:24:00.000-07:00

The book, The Last Chinese Chef by Nicole Mones, opens with such a poetic passage:

“What is the most exalted peak of cuisine? Is it the freshest ingredients, the most complex flavors? Is it the rustic or the rare? It is none of these. The peak is neither eating nor cooking, but the giving and sharing of food. Great food should never be taken alone. What pleasure can a man take in fine cuisine unless he invites cherished friends?”

A few weeks ago I took the kids to visit their grandmother and Ed on the Alsea River.

For as long as I’ve known my children’s grandmother, their father’s mother, she has opened her home and heart to family and friends, enticing them to stay with delicious food. She was an angel, descending from Costco, filling our house with soups and roasted turkey, homemade elephant ears and nourishment when I came home from a long hospital stay after Emma was born. When she is worried or wanting to show her concern for family, she cooks. Making food from scratch and sharing it is her absolute favorite thing to do, and over the years she’s played the motherly-hostess at countless picnics, barbeques, birthday parties and celebrations. Her love for family goes into everything she makes.
Grandpa Ed is the exact same way. When you first meet him, based on his demeanor, you might mistake him to be a slightly grizzled curmudgeon. Retired from the Forestry Service, Ed at first is a bit quiet, aloof, and if you didn’t know better, shy. He grows blueberries on the property, teaches his grandchildren to fish, and wears western style shirts and suspenders like nobody’s business.

But Ed is much more than that. He, like Marilyn, dotes on family and adores his grandchildren and his ancient dog Ty, (both of whom hover around his legs in the kitchen for treats while he cooks) And he shows that love through his cooking.

Over Memorial Day weekend, we relaxed in their cabin on the river. The kids fished from the little dock, we went for long walks down winding gravel roads and played cards and dominos at the kitchen table when it rained. Always, in the background, was the comforting smell of delicious homemade food. We woke up every morning to the scent of Ed’s famous sourdough blueberry pancakes and bacon. Marilyn baked bread and made cinnamon rolls to serve with dinner, and around 4:00, the deep, smoky scent of savory marinated steaks roasting on the barbeque on the deck tempted us to stay forever.

Bikram, one of the chef’s at Oregon Culinary Institute, once told me about a woman in his class was cutting a potato. She was so intent, gripping the knife tightly, her mouth in a hard line, and she sawed at it violently. He’d stopped her, laid his hand gently over hers and asked her what was wrong. Her shoulders let go their tense elevated position and she immediately burst into tears. He said she’d told him she was angry, she’d had a bad day, nothing was going right. “Be calm.” Bikram advised. “Take a breath. Relax. Do not let your anger come into your food. It will make it bitter.”

Chef is from Nepal, descended from a long line of Ayurvedic Physicians, and although his passion is not medicine but food, he understands the link between food and health. He understands and teaches his students about the deep, almost medicinal connection between cooking and the soul. He’s the one who’s taught me about how much better food tastes and how much more nourishing, even spiritually, food can be when it’s made with “a content heart”. He reminds students that some of who they are, how they are feeling, the essence of the chef, is like spice. It seeps in, like flavor, to what you cook. I believe it. However few ingredients or rustic the dish, if it’s made by people who care or who love you, it tastes better than the most expensive or exotic meal.

Ed’s blueberry pancakes, his secret barbeque sauce, and Marilyn’s chicken soup, dinner rolls and chocolate whipped cream Worm Cake, (she makes for my children every year for their birthdays) tastes like family and home.

After all, the very essence of good food is love.

Grandma Marilyn’s Worm Cake

2 packages Famous chocolate cookie wafers
1 pint whipping cream
1 tsp vanilla
½- 1 tbs superfine sugar (depending on your preferred level of sweetness)

This is the simplest and most delicious cake. Marilyn makes it for each of my children ever year for their birthday and it’s so easy, kids can make it themselves as a fun summer project.

Whip the cream, adding a bit of sugar and vanilla as becomes thick and fluffy. Frost each individual chocolate wafer and stack together, end to end. When the “worm” is complete, frost with remaining whipped cream and refrigerate for at least 4 hours. Decorate with tinted coconut flakes and candies if desired.

*And PS my darlings-- an absolutely fabulous book and movie that links human emotion to cooking is Like Water for Chocolate. Another, not as highbrow but every bit as delicious, is Simply Irresistible. My daughters and I have watched this movie together many times… it’s a lovely kitchen love story.

for fun...

2010-06-22T09:57:00.003-07:00

ready for a long weekend?

2010-06-17T17:55:00.000-07:00

The Hubs is whisking me away for a long weekend. Ta Ta for now my lovelies, I'll pick up the blog again in a few days!

XOXO

{photo via Piewacket}

Saving Grace on a Cold Friday Night at the Ball Field

2010-06-11T17:26:00.000-07:00

Elegant Spiked Hot Chocolate

So I admit it. I am a whiner. I am not really your hard-core, sit-in-the-bleachers-during-a-rain-storm kind of gal. My kids LOVE sports and are really good at them. Spencer hit two grand slams in just 2 weeks and honestly, I couldn't be more proud. But we've been absolutely soaked with rain this week in Portland and Vancouver, and although his tournament game was cancelled last night due to the field being covered in water, tonight is a make-up game and starts at 8:00 PM, which means I'll be shivering and cheering until at least 10:00 PM. I posted my confession of complete wimpy-ness on FaceBook, and I'm sure, earned a few raised eyebrows from the "good" moms who don't mind so much sitting for hours watching their youngsters. I'm more the type of mom who likes to bake him a cake for when the game is over.

I've found a compromise though. Rather than the dry powdered somewhat metallic tasting hot chocolate served at the game in the lovely Snack Schack near the field, I'm running home to whip up a batch of this to pull me through a cold Friday night. Now if I only had a heated seat pad...

Friday Night Hot Chocolate for Sexy/wimpy Moms

6 ounces dark chocolate, chopped
2 cups milk
Sugar, optional
a small glug of Grappa Italiana

Preparation:
1. Place the milk, chocolate and sugar to taste in a small saucepan. Simmer until warm and the chocolate completely melted.
2. Divide between two travel mugs and top with a shot of grappa.

Travel Inspiration!

2010-06-10T17:19:00.001-07:00

Inspired by Iceland Video from Inspired By Iceland on Vimeo.

a day of rain

2010-06-09T15:55:00.001-07:00

Inspiration........, originally uploaded by Gayle_T.

As the rain pounded on the metal roof overhead, she pushed her feet down further, toward the end of the bed, using her toes to find the chilly, smooth spot of sheets that had not cocooned her in the night. She looked out the window, through trails of water, unfazed by it. After all, rain on Sunday meant a day inside. It meant wearing soft faded jeans, an old t-shirt, and a sweater. It meant making soup from scratch, and steaming mugs of strong coffee. A rainy Sunday was the best excuse in the world to not be productive, and to instead, step back, and breathe a sigh of relief from the usual rushed pace the rest of the week demanded.

She was not really the athletic type. Even on sunny weekends, she avoided running, outdoor sports, or any activity that required the use of sunscreen or shorts. Her limbs were pale and unnecessary exposure was avoided whenever practical. She was perfectly happy wrapped in a blanket, reading, writing and watching old movies on the couch or people at the bookstore downtown.

Flinging back the covers, she took the top quilt with her, wrapping it like a shawl over her head and around her shoulders while she padded into the bathroom to start the shower. She plopped down to sit on the small, oval, shag rug, then waited for the water to heat up, staring patiently at the billows of steam rising above the top of the shower curtain. Stepping out of her warm quilt and into the almost scalding stream of hot water, she let it run over her and warm her to the core. Slowly she emerged from hibernation. Going over the list in her mind, she organized, by priority, the responsibilities that must be done; the few chores and errands left over from the list the day before and one or two of the things she hoped she had time for after everything else was caught up.

Turning off the water and stepping out of the claw foot tub, she noticed the bathroom, now opaque with steam. It was hard to see, and the soap-scented fog engulfed her, but her mind was clear. She slipped into her husband’s faded cotton bathrobe, tying the frayed belt around her waist. Finally, she headed to the quiet dark kitchen, ready to warm it up as well and bring the rest of the house to life with the day’s first batch of coffee.

If I could choose one Lasagna recipe...

2010-06-08T16:01:00.000-07:00

What a treat.

Our lovely friend Pam and her mother Ingrid came from Germany to visit last week. Pam's hubby Frank will be the new Big Shot in Hungary soon, and before they move, she decided to get a bit of travelling in.

Kev and I were treated to a mouthwatering dinner of homemade lasagna, fresh green salad and red wine when they visited... Pam made it and brought it to share and I swear, this is the recipe that tops all recipes... we had seconds and licked the plate clean. It's a classic Barefoot Contessa concoction.

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 cup chopped yellow onion (1 onion)
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 1/2 pounds sweet Italian turkey sausage, casings removed
• 1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes in tomato puree
• 1 (6-ounce) can tomato paste
• 1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, divided
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh basil leaves
• 2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 pound lasagna noodles
• 15 ounces ricotta cheese
• 3 to 4 ounces creamy goat cheese, crumbled
• 1 cup grated Parmesan, plus 1/4 cup for sprinkling
• 1 extra-large egg, lightly beaten
• 1 pound fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced

Directions

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Heat the olive oil in a large (10 to 12-inch) skillet. Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes over medium-low heat, until translucent. Add the garlic and cook for 1 more minute. Add the sausage and cook over medium-low heat, breaking it up with a fork, for 8 to 10 minutes, or until no longer pink. Add the tomatoes, tomato paste, 2 tablespoons of the parsley, the basil, 1 1/2 teaspoons of the salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Simmer, uncovered, over medium-low heat, for 15 to 20 minutes, until thickened.

Meanwhile, fill a large bowl with the hottest tap water. Add the noodles and allow them to sit in the water for 20 minutes. Drain.

In a medium bowl, combine the ricotta, goat cheese, 1 cup of Parmesan, the egg, the remaining 2 tablespoons of parsley, remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Set aside.

Ladle 1/3 of the sauce into a 9 by 12 by 2-inch rectangular baking dish, spreading the sauce over the bottom of the dish. Then add the layers as follows: half the pasta, half the mozzarella, half the ricotta, and one 1/3 of the sauce. Add the rest of the pasta, mozzarella, ricotta, and finally, sauce. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup of Parmesan. Bake for 30 minutes, until the sauce is bubbling.

Cage Match Supper Club Does Fiji

2010-06-07T16:46:00.000-07:00

The “Cage Match Supper Club” was an idea clearly conceived after multiple glasses of wine.

It’s a dinner group of four couples committed to, above everything else, entertaining ourselves and each other.

After our group’s first gathering in March to sketch out our mission statement over an exquisite dinner at the school, we inked our first date for May. The first dinner party would be at Chet and Heather’s abode.

The theme was “Fiji” and the food was FABULOUS.

Chet and Heather had vacationed one Christmas in Fiji, and Chet has extensive knowledge of the area due to the year he lived and worked there on a stint as a Fiji Adventure tour guide. Upon entering their home, we were each outfitted with a colorful sarong to look the part. Each “non host” couple brought drink concoctions meant to be consumed along with the dinner, and since our food was traditional fare found in Fiji, our beverages were tropical in theme.

My Subtly Amazing husband and my cocktail concoction, confusingly titled “The Hairy Bitch,” wasn't the least bit hairy or bitchy. Basically, it was a mixture of two glugs pineapple/coconut juice, one glug of white rum and a dash of triple sec, served with a dorky look on the face, a bendy straw, in a coconut cup found at Goodwill. Chad and Laurie provided lovely Dark and Stormy cocktails and Matt and Mary yet another oddly named but appropriate beverage. (Those recipes will be posted tomorrow kittens)

{cheesy grins via Kev and Chet}

The evening played out a bit like an eighth grade social studies class.
We indulged in perfectly spiced Indian food, which, we learned, is a staple in Fiji due to the largely Indian population. Chet filled us in on Fiji culture and Heather loaded the iPod with music indigenous to the islands, then Kevin created a betting pool in which we each chose soccer teams that we thought might win in the upcoming World Cup.

Dessert was a mind blowing batch of Heather’s homemade creamy peanut-butter frosting and banana chip topped Elvis Cupcakes.

We ended the evening with a traditional kava ceremony. Stuffed full of delicious curry, and sitting cross-legged on a reed matt in the living room, Chet filled the ceremonial kava bowl with authentic powdered kava root and water, making it a somewhat muddy and floral tasting murky “tea”, which immediately numbs the tongue.

I’m not so sure I’ll imbibe in Kava often in the future, but I already anticipate the next Cage Match Supper Club dinner party. The food and company was absolutely brilliant, and I know more about Fiji then I ever imagined. Maybe, when you are old, you find Eighth Grade social studies finally fascinating, and any chance one has to wear a sarong is welcomed.

I just don’t know yet if I’ll be able to supply costumes to our guests for my brilliantly themed “Liberace Cookbook” supper.

The Errant Blogger

2010-06-03T21:06:00.001-07:00

Shannon and Greg, originally uploaded by uncommonmuse.

Well darlings, you may have noticed I've been a little lax in my posting lately... I've been post processing all of the lovely photos from the San Diego wedding and staying up very late every night for the past two weeks to complete the project.

I think I'm about to wind it up though and should be back to writing and cooking very soon, so be patient with me.

Air kisses kittens!

ps~ aren't these lovebirds simply gorgeous?

Shannon and Greg

2010-05-25T13:54:00.000-07:00

I rarely book weddings without first meeting and interviewing the Bride and Groom.

It’s a little like dating in some ways, and if the chemistry isn’t there, you may not be the perfect match… and I truly believe that if you find that perfect match, like dating, you end up bringing out the best in each other. As a photographer, if the couple and I hit it off, I am inspired and my photography is even better than ever. If the couple digs me, they smile and are much more into the whole idea of being photographed, and the pictures turn out so much better than if there is tension or awkwardness. In the case of Shannon and Greg’s wedding, I took a risk and plunged right in, after just a couple of phone calls and emails. Jennifer, Shannon’s exquisite, gorgeous red-haired sister had recommended me, and I sort of figured that since Jennifer is such a positive and lovable woman, Shannon must be too.

(I'm gonna gush here for a minute kittens, so bear with me)

I was SO lucky. I hit the jackpot.

On Friday night, I finally met Shannon and Greg in person, along with their amazing friends and family at the rehearsal dinner at The Star of the Sea Room, right there on the bay in San Diego. I was so deeply struck by the open and honest kindness she beams in her easy smile. And I was further struck by the sincerity of Greg. He couldn’t take his eyes off Shannon. You could just tell by how wonderful of a couple they were together, their passion for each other is the kind that will never fade.

Even after many many weddings, it made me pause and smile at the love they so obviously share.

Not only were Shannon and Greg a couple of extremely beautiful people, their wedding was a blast. And ummm… GORGEOUS.

We started with the “getting ready” photos in a suite at the Hilton San Diego Bayfront (just following a bit of an earthquake!) and the view was breathtaking.

The groomsmen were fabulous, and open to jumping all over the place like super heroes.

The bridesmaids were elegant and beautiful and Shannon’s mom and dad were supportive, funny and helpful every minute.

And Shannon’s Brother Jeff was slightly excited about the wedding as you can tell…

All I can say is: WOW. THIS is why I take wedding photos… I love being a part of this moment in people’s lives, when an amazing couple who are part of an amazing family and circle of friends expresses their love for each other in an unforgettable celebration. I am honored to “catch time” and freeze forever, those moments… the looks in their eyes when they are at the church, their first dance at the reception, and their families heartfelt and undeniable joy.

All this week I’ll be re-living the wedding and working on their photos in the evenings after my work at the Culinary School. I can’t wait to send them and their guests the slide show and online album that documented this SPECTACULAR and gorgeous day.

Our Home

2010-05-20T14:39:00.000-07:00

I am so in love with our house.

It’s been a milestone in my life, to live here.

It’s where my husband proposed to me, on the couch in the living room. It’s where I finally had enough space for my children to have bedrooms and real beds again, after my first life up-ended, and we lived in tiny apartments. I’ve written poems and book chapters at the kitchen table. This house is where I’ve planted roses in the backyard and lavender next to the front door with Kevin. We’ve cooked together in the kitchen, taught my children how to make pancakes, Indian Dahl, homemade peppermint ice-cream, scrambled eggs and Kevin’s famous guacamole. Vivid memories of small dinner parties, big celebrations and bottles of wine shared with friends and family resonate somehow in the walls of our little house and probably will for years to come. Our home has been a canvas to paint a new life together - for my children, myself, my husband and our “new” family.

Maybe the people who end up buying our house will feel how much we loved it and they’ll love it too.

But as much as we've loved it, it seems to be time to go. This Sunday there will be an open house, as I type this, the listing has gone live.

We put our heart and soul into the yard; we’ve designed and remodeled the kitchen and bathrooms, carpeted and painted the upstairs bedrooms and worked hard to bring the 1920’s Portland Bungalow back to life. It is a reflection of us and the life we are building.

This old house has a heart of gold but we are in search of a new neighborhood and we are turning a page. I have to keep reminding myself that home is what you make the place you live into by filling it with family, friends, food, color, life and love.

A new adventure is about to begin.

Saturday Night Dinner Party Fundraiser at OCI

2010-05-19T17:49:00.000-07:00

Saturday night we attended a super cool fund raiser dinner here at Oregon Culinary. Chef Josh Blythe and his gorgeous wife Allison hosted the event and successfully raised funds for Team in Training, a Leukemia Research charity.

The food was amazing.

Josh is a phenomenal chef and pours his heart and soul into the food he creates with the students.
(I swear he could make a shoe taste good with his incredible talent and knowledge when it comes to flavor)

Melinda and Rolf, and Mark and Michelle were brilliant dining companions, and the night was the perfect blend of great food, endless glasses of good wine and funny conversation…. The ideal dinner.

On Writing

2010-05-18T17:28:00.001-07:00

Wearing my heart on my sleeve this week and baring my soul to agents... wish me luck darlings.

Siren Call of The Road Trip

2010-05-14T16:07:00.000-07:00

I want to throw my stuff in bag and drive away.

Shorts, tee shirts, sweatshirts, old canvas tennis shoes with holes in them, 80 SPF sunscreen, and bags and bags of soft red licorice...

I want to put my hand out the window of the Dodge Polera and let it surf the wind blowing past on the the highway, drink truck-stop coffee, and look out the window at the open road.
I want to buy ridiculous tiny spoons that have the name of the cities we've driven through on them, and collect paper napkins from diners, compare pancakes, pie and BLT's at small town cafes. I want to forget about regular life. Just for a weekend.

Freedom. Junk food. Bad coffee in paper cups. CD's with 80's classics burned onto them, wrinkled maps spread out on the dashboard, a rare sense of adventure and good company... these are the trappings that make up the ideal Road Trip.

Last year, to celebrate our fourth anniversary, Kevin and I packed the car and escaped to Eastern Oregon.
We had a cool and relaxed adventure in the Gorge, Eastern and Central Oregon, but not everything went as planned. By default, it turned out to be perfect, BECAUSE of imperfection. The absolute fun was in the flaws. Stories emerge from close calls with disaster, and I believe, on a road trip, you don’t want just roses and sunshine. Intrigue makes it memorable.

It makes it an adventure.

During the drive to take photos of the Painted Hills in John Day, we were lost for hours on a narrow unmarked dirt road. I imagined our romantic drive would end in something of a Cohen Brothers film plot when we asked two local guys in a graffiti covered truck with covered windows and plates for directions.

We ran out of gas in Shaniko. The locals who had just completed a staged gunfight at their annual Shaniko Days suggested we see Clive. He was the guy who owned multiple RV's, horses and the largest modular home who sold us a gallon of gas for $7. The sight of him in nothing but a coral Speedo bathing suit, all leathery-tan with white curly chest hair that resembled a mess of fishing twine burned itself into my mind. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
I still wish, of all the photos I took that trip, that I had the wherewith all to take his photo. But, he stunned me to silence and I was frozen in awe, unable to document his leathery coral Speedo-d physique.

As we left, he threw out his arms and yelled “I’m sixty years old and I’m livin’ like I’m dyin’!”

We barely made it to our hotel room that night, a fabulous little Bed and Breakfast in Dufur. The Balch Hotel. We walked into the cool sitting room, sweaty, coated with dust, and stressed out from a day of being lost. Our eyes had the look of crazy, fed-up tourists high on truck stop coffee. The smell of warm chocolate chip cookies beckoned us and the hip young couple playing scrabble near the check in desk made us feel as though we'd found a serene oasis.

Samantha and Jeff greeted us warmly and insisted on bringing out freshly made Greek salads and ice cold Black Butte Porter Ales from the back kitchen even though it was well past dinner. They sat with us and laughed at all the right parts in the story of our adventure and especially loved the visual memory of Clive, the coral Speedo wearing philosopher in Shaniko.
We slept hard that night on crisp white linens in our little antique western hotel room under fluffy white down comforters and 500 count sheets, we gorged ourselves on a delicious breakfast with the other guests who’d spent the night at The Balch, and then relaxed in the hammock for a while in the back.

It was everything. Romance, adventure, intrigue, old men in bathing suits, new friends, and U2 God's Country blasting through the stereo speakers.

I want to go back.

Weekend Splendor

2010-05-14T15:22:00.001-07:00

, originally uploaded by loretoidas.

Enjoy sunny and relaxing time off my lovelies.

Best Case Scenario Crisp

2010-05-13T17:19:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday night, one of my favorite people from waaaaaaaaaay back in high school came over for dinner.
I’ll never forget one of the most meaningful conversations in my life, back then, when he and I were hanging out in the back seat of the school bus on the way home from a leadership conference. The Smith’s were blaring excellent tunes from someone’s boom box and Jeff and I were talking about the important things in life. It is a Technicolor memory for me. Transforming and important. For over twenty years Jeff didn’t know how much that conversation on the worn green vinyl seats in the back of the bus meant to me. He wrote to me from Bible College for a little while, until we lost touch and went in separate directions. Seeing him again, we picked right up where we left off.

Kevin, Jeff and I enjoyed steaks sautéed in shallots and butter with blue cheese compound butter melted greedily over the top. I’d bought a loaf of fresh French bread at New Seasons and made a salad with spinach, strawberries and avocado. Just as I was about to put the rhubarb apple crisp into the oven, a fuse blew and the oven light was out. Kevin texted our neighbor Mary and asked her if we could run the dessert over to cook in her oven.

Just as the dessert returned, Jeff asked us what the “Best Case Scenario” would be for us. What would the Best Case Scenario in life entail?

It made us pause and think… maybe it caught us off guard. You don’t actually do that very often anymore as an adult. No one asks what you want to be when you grow up once your grown up, and everyone assumes you must be doing what you want to be doing because you’re not doing something else. But is that necessarily true?

Suddenly, the lights flickered on and the oven was again in working order.

We sat in silence and savored the hot rhubarb crisp drenched in melting vanilla ice cream, each of us quietly pondering our “Best Case Scenario.”

Crisp Topping:

• 6 Tbs butter, cut into ½ inch chunks
• ¾ cup brown sugar
• 2/3 cup flour
• ½ cup rolled oats or chopped nuts
• ¼ tsp salt
• ½ tsp grated nutmeg
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon

Using your fingers, work the butter into the rest of the ingredients so that each piece is coated and you have a coarse crumbly mixture.

Set aside.

Rhubarb-Apple Filling

• 1 and ½ pounds baking apples, peeled and cored
• 2 pounds rhubarb, diced into 1-inch pieces
• 1 and ¼ cups sugar
• ¼ cup flour
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• A pinch of ground cloves

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Dice the apples, then put them in a bowl and toss with the remaining ingredients. Arrange the fruit in a cast iron skillet or a 2 quart gratin dish and cover with the toppings. Set the dish on a sheet pan to catch any drips and bake until the juices from the fruit are bubbling and the topping is brown, about 1 hour and 10 minutes. Serve with a lovely scoop of vanilla ice-cream
*Adapted from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

Chocolate: Mind Altering Sexiness

2010-05-06T15:36:00.000-07:00

These two are hip Amish-looking dudes who take chocolate to a whole new level.

{found on one of my favorite blogs of all time, via Uncle Beefy}

A Welcome Cheese Coma

2010-05-04T16:19:00.000-07:00

The spring weather in Portland is unusually overcast and chilly, the sky has been spitting out winter-like rain and I’ve been in a funk. I want to hibernate, become invisible, and wait out the stormy weather along with my stormy mood. I want to take endless warm baths; wear floppy flannel pajamas, cozy slippers, and either curl up in a corner with a good book or watch an old movie and simply check out of society and work for just one day.

But since we are in the process of getting our house ready to sell and I cannot miss a day of work to build a pillow fort, and hide on my couch, instead, I look to food.

A bowl of comforting, creamy-cheesy pasta sounds like the perfect cure.

And I’m not talking Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

The only kind of cheese that can light my fire and warm my soul, is the kind that tastes of faintly wine, is buttery soft, creamy, and oozing with such a deep rich flavor that makes me want to free fall into a it face first.

Serve with a slab of rustic bread, this recipe is the perfect supper for a cold and rainy spring evening.

Thank you again, for the recipe, my lovely Jamie Oliver. You are my hero.
Baked Camembert Pasta

Ingredients:

• 8oz box of Camembert cheese
• 2 cloves of garlic, sliced into thin wafers
• 1 sprig fresh rosemary
• A glug or two of extra virgin olive oil
• Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1 pound dried rigatoni (or whatever pasta you have on hand)
• 6 cups fresh spinach
• 4 oz parmesan cheese

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Open the box of Camembert and unwrap it then place it back into the container. Score a circle into the top of the cheese skin and carefully peel away and toss. Peel and finely slice the garlic and layer over the cheese. Pluck the rosemary leaves off the woody stalk and sprinkle onto the garlic. Sprinkle some pepper and drizzle with a little olive oil. Place the box of cheese onto a cookie sheet and put it into the oven for 25 minutes until golden brown, bubbly and melted.

Grate the Parmesan and set aside.

Meanwhile, bring a large pan of salted water to a boil. When your cheese has 10 minutes left to cook, add the rigatoni to the pan and cook according to the package instructions. During the last 10 seconds, throw in the fresh spinach then drain all together in a colander. Drizzle with a couple good glugs of olive oil and sprinkle on the grated parmesan.

When the cheese is golden and melted, carefully remove from oven and pour over pasta...

Friday Night Cocktail

2010-04-30T17:15:00.000-07:00

One of my beloved Chef Instructors here at Oregon Culinary told me the other day about an enticing after work beverages: The Chambord and Champagne Cocktail.

Chef Melinda also happens to be married to a Chef, and she and Rolf are dedicated connoisseurs of food, wine, and of course, being from Portland; Beer. They spend their free time away from the kitchen visiting pubs and brewery’s in search of the perfect ale and they wax poetic about hard to find, unique and interesting new brews. If I ever have a question about the best beer to serve with Sheppard’s Pie or grilled steak, where to find a rare bottle of stout, or where to go for the biggest selection of German beers, she is definitely the one to ask.

But the other night, while her hubby-chef was busy in the kitchen preparing yet another decadent dinner for the two of them, she decided to skip her usual before-dinner beer and opened a bottle of champagne instead. She put her feet up and sipped the pink bubbly with a dollop of Chambord. Her glassware of choice was, get this, a pint glass.

Chefs know how to live.

Soon I was on the hunt for dark raspberry liquor to compliment the bottle of champagne that has been sitting in my fridge for a few weeks… and the result was fantastic. Trust me.
Or at the very least, trust Chef Melinda.

I bet it’s even better served in a pint glass.

Melinda’s Fancy Chambord Champagne Cocktail

Pour 1 small "glug" (about 1 tbs or so) of Chambord (or another berry liquor) into champagne flute.

Fill with chilled sparkling white wine. Add 2 small raspberries.

Happy Friday Kittens!

Now That's Amore.

2010-04-29T16:37:00.001-07:00

Hey There Cupcake

2010-04-29T15:51:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I attended my last writing group and I miss it. Came across this little exercise today:

She walked into the coffee house not knowing what to expect. She’d seen a photograph of him online, but it was slightly out of focus. What did stand out about this one, and what made her answer his emails, and later, the request for a meeting in person, was his smile. No matter how dark and fuzzy the snapshot online appeared, she could clearly make out a wide, bright smile, one that reached his slightly out-of-focus eyes.

She ordered her Americano and then poured in some cream before sitting in the big easy chair in the center of the room. She was, after all these months, finally excited to meet”The Smiler”. His online profile listed things that were ideal and important in a friend and mate, and he emailed that he was a good listener and loved to cook. She imagined him smiling while they cooked together after work, offering quick shoulder rubs to help ease the kinks and knots in her back after a long day of kneading bread in the bakery she worked at next door. Online dating, so far, had proven to be disappointing, but today she had reason to be hopeful. She had a system: she skipped over all the profiles of men in baseball hats, without their shirts on, or if their profile picture had other women unceremoniously and jaggedly photo-shopped out.

“I said ICED CARMEL Macchiato, EXTRA soy and EXTRA caramel. Double soy-WHIP.”

The tense, short-tempered voice interrupted her musings. She looked up to see a man in a pilled tan sweater with micro suede elbow patches sauntering toward her. He was gripping an embarrassingly large iced coffee drink as he smiled lewdly, focusing in on her chest, honing in as though it was the radar signal guiding his approach and landing.

“Well hey there, Cupcake. That’s my nickname for you... Cupcake. You know, because you work in a bakery and everything.”

He gave an overly animated wink, laughed at his own joke, and cascaded his long, lanky body like a rag doll into the vacant chair next to her.

“Nice sweater, Cupcake.”

She crossed her arms protectively. The Smiler’s grin, which I’d imagined and grown attached to, suddenly changed from charming to smarmy, making him look like a long-limbed version of a perverted Cheshire cat.

“I come up with them all the time, you know, nicknames. Good ones, too. Hey Cupcake, didn’t I tell you I’m lactose intolerant? Well I am. Lactose in-tol-er-ANT. Crap like that there milk and shit tears me up inside like a son of a bitch. You DON’T want that, Cupcake. Hell, they don’t even serve the right kind of God damned soy milk in this place. Now Starbucks, the one next to my apartment… good ol’ SB’s -- that’s my nickname for them -- now THEY serve the good stuff. West Soy. WS. Gotta love that crap.”

Without pausing or taking a breath, he jerked his head toward the window and pointed with his thumb to the parking lot.

“Did you see my ride? It’s a Chevy. Ya gotta love them American made VE-hicles. Those trucks are where it’s at, Cupcake. Where it is AT. Know what I mean?”

He winked again, grinned even wider, and checked out the woman sitting next to them to make sure she’d been listening.

Soothe Your Soul Roasted Chicken

2010-04-27T15:29:00.000-07:00

It was a full weekend with the kids, including early morning baseball games, catching up on chores, grocery shopping, laundry and homework. Late Sunday afternoon, after a stint of unsuccessful, stressful/hectic prom-dress shopping with my oldest daughter, I gravitated to the kitchen in dire need of the best form of therapy I know:

Culinary Therapy.

I rinsed, chopped, peeled, and diced fresh veggies, then mashed herbs, garlic and lemon into butter with my bare fingers, preparing a creamy, magical mixture to smear on the chicken.

The heavy knife in my hand, the sound of water running in the kitchen sink, the pungent smell of garlic and fresh veggies made the ritual of preparing supper soothing and necessary. I craved an escape from the fruitless hunt through long skirts of neon satin with glittering rainbow-zebra-print halter tops, and rhinestone and sequin encrusted size 4 formalwear.

After an hour of immersing myself in the familiar surroundings of the kitchen, I began to heal from a harrowing day facing the weekend mall crowds, traffic, a stressed out teen and a rather limited budget. With dinner in the oven, I plopped down on the couch with a glass of leftover champagne spiked with Chambord pleasantly exhausted, and watched the eighties prom classic, "Pretty in Pink" with the girls.

Soon the heavenly smells of garlic, lemon, and herb chicken and sweet potatoes roasting in the oven engulfed us. The girls sighed with pleasure anticipating a delicious meal, and I finally felt a sense of accomplishment. I may not be the best when it comes to retail shopping and teen style, but I felt like one hell of a cook.

If I could only bake a dress for my daughter, all would be well with the world.

As most of you know, I’ve been on a Jamie Oliver kick and have been playing with his recipes. Although I changed around some of the ingredients, the original recipe for “Soothe Your Soul Roasted Chicken” is adapted from one of his fabulous cookbooks.

It will make your house smell wonderful and your children love you more.
Even when they are grumpy.

Ingredients:

• 1 whole roasting chicken (organic and hormone free if at all possible)
• 1 stick of unsalted butter, softened
• 1 lemon
• 3 cloves garlic, peeled
• 2 heaping Tbs dried rosemary
• 2 big pinches of salt
• 1 giant pinch of freshly ground pepper

Veggies to roast with the bird~
• 1 head of broccoli cut into chunks
• 3 large carrots, peeled and roughly chopped
• 2 handfuls of snow peas

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees and set out a large baking or casserole pan.

Wash and chop the veggies and set aside in a separate bowl, we’ll get to these later.

Rinse the chicken, remove any innards from the cavity and pat it down with a paper towel then transfer into the baking dish. Carefully push your fingers up underneath the skin, gently separating it from the breast of chicken but not tearing it.

Meanwhile, put the stick of butter into a dish and sprinkle in the salt and pepper. Peel the lemon and then finely mince the peel and add to the butter. Finely chop the garlic and toss into the mix along with the dried rosemary. Mash together with your fingers until well incorporated and press most of the herb, lemon and garlic mixture up under the loosened skin of the chicken. Rub the rest over the outside of the chicken.

Cut the remaining naked lemon in half and stuff into the empty cavity of your bird.

Now pop the dish with the chicken into the oven and set the timer for 20 minutes.

After 20 minutes, lift the dish out; remove the chicken carefully for just a minute, and set onto a separate plate. Then toss the veggies into the melted herb butter in the hot casserole dish… you should hear a bit of a sizzle. Using a spoon, push them around a bit until they are slightly coated and glazed with the melted butter and chicken drippings, then put the chicken back on top of them and return the dish to the oven.

Bake for another 40 minutes. Remove and let sit for at least 10 minutes before carving.

*While the bird rests, I usually peel and cut up a couple of sweet potatoes, put them onto a cookie sheet lined with foil and drizzle them with olive oil and sprinkle them with a little sea salt. You can bake them in the 450 degree oven for about 15 minutes and have a perfect side dish for your Chicken Supper.

Youth Salad

2010-04-23T14:57:00.000-07:00

The hubs went with his man-pals to the Blazer game last night, leaving me to forage for dinner on my own.

When the kids are not with us during the week, and he is out for the evening, I’ve been known to eat the worst, malnutritious, embarrassing kind of dinner. Like a huge bag of peanut M&M’s, Red Vines, popcorn, or nacho Doritos. Yes. It’s true and I hate to admit it, but for as much as I preach about eating healthy non-processed foods, I have my secret guilty pleasures. When no one is looking, I can pig out like nobody’s business.

And it’s not pretty.

But when I tossed the Twizzler’s into my cart last night at the grocery store, I did an unusual thing. I practiced self restraint. I actually put them back with the other shiny plastic looking confections in the candy aisle and bought a fillet of salmon, some organic strawberries, and an avocado.

When I got home, I whipped up a dinner that is supposed to be good for my skin, my brain and my heart. Supposedly antioxidants and omega fatty acids will keep me young and relatively good looking. And since I’m chicken when it comes to imagining Botox injections, and I love to eat, I figured I’d much rather use food as a beauty treatment.

I baked the salmon on a cookie sheet lined with foil after drizzling it with olive oil and sprinkling on a little Himalayan sea salt and cracked pepper. The salad was fast, fabulous and simple to make. The trick was using a whole avocado, several big, ripe juicy strawberries, and just a little bit of greens. The unusual ratio of fruit and avocado to greens made it more yummy than usual. I suppose you could try spinach instead of regular lettuce if you prefer.

Youth Salad (for One)
• 1 cup mixed spring greens
• 5 large sliced strawberries
• 1 avocado diced
• A big handful of toasted chopped hazelnuts (or whatever kind you have in the cupboard)
• A dollop of dressing (I just used olive oil and balsamic vinegar)
• A small pinch of Himalayan sea salt

Slice, dice, toss and you are ready to eat.

Mom Jeans.

2010-04-22T17:25:00.001-07:00

Blue Jeans, originally uploaded by Frans (3Djavu.nl).

It's casual Friday tomorrow. Jeans at the office. Nice jeans, dark blue, maybe skinny or flared, but definitely not Mom Jeans.

The name horrifies me.
It’s been tossed around these days on What Not to Wear and People Magazine. It’s used to describe that sheath of denim that covers about an inch above a woman’s belly button, the back pockets placed high on a woman’s hips making her ass look about 4 inches higher than it should, a snug but forgiving thigh, and usually pegged at the ankle… ala 80’s.

It's horrifying because that "cut" of jeans is what I wore most of my life.

In the eighties, they were cool. James Jean, San Francisco Riding Gear, Normandy Rose Jeans (with glitter sewn right in). I wore them with a huge comb in the back pocket that said something sexy like “Curves Ahead”, and tucked them into light pink suede slouchy boots. I saved my babysitting money for a month to afford them and reveled in the fact that my mom totally didn’t get it and said things like: “you could buy three pairs of jeans for the same price at Sears” and “they should pay you to wear their label. It’s free advertising”. I coveted them and wept when they went through the dryer and became forever mottled with melted Bonnie Bell Dr. Pepper lip gloss.

As a stay at home Mom, they were the only thing I wore other than sweat pants. I thought they were perfect, because the high waist at least made it look like I had one. They were also awesome because I could perform origami with my post-baby stomach and zip it neatly into submission.

The huge leather badge at the waistband that advertised San Francisco Riding Gear was replaced by the words Wrangler and Lee, and the rise comfortably covered enormous cotton briefs (briefs not bikinis-- in other words, Granny Panties that came in a 6 pack from Costco) After all, once you’ve given birth to 2 or 3 children, sexy underwear is a thing of the past.

I’ve tried low slung hip hugger jeans that are in fashion now. I want more than anything to be a sexy hip 40 something Mom-creature that sports stylish denim with high heel boots. I’ve studied the magazines, been admonished by my teen-age daughter and watched marathon episodes of “What Not To Wear”, so I know better.

But I still hear the siren call of the Mom Jeans.

The high waisted, acid washed, high back-pocketed, pleated Calvin Klein’s hanging in my closet mock and tempt me.

Recently MSN reported cattily that Jessica Simpson was recently caught wearing a pair.
I think I like her better now.

Earth Day 2010

2010-04-22T16:07:00.000-07:00

To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug.

Helen Keller

Grilled Pizza with Pears, Gorgonzola and Toasted Hazelnuts

2010-04-21T17:58:00.000-07:00

I married my Subtly Amazing husband almost five years ago.

He is amazing for many reasons, but one of them is because he inherited an “insta-family” when he married me and he has embraced his role as a step-dad with open arms and an open heart.

As a couple, we have the unusual luxury of switching between being full-time parents one weekend and on our own the next. We get to attend baseball, volleyball, and softball games for the kids some weekends and spend romantic weekends alone every once in a while. Shortly before we were married, we even travelled to Italy to see his friend get married in a 14th century cathedral between Verona and Venice. It was the first time I’d ever travelled outside of the country and the first vacation I’d been on as an adult without kids. It was terribly romantic, but I still dream of taking them with us and stay in a villa in Tuscany someday.

Sigh.

That summer in 2005 we took the train everywhere. We stayed in quaint hotels, drank espresso and wine, took photos with a vintage Pentax, and ate our way through Northern Italy.

One of my favorite memories is of a simple grilled thin crust pizza we shared with a sublime bottle of wine in Venice along the Grand Canal. I’ve played with this recipe at home for the last few years and I think I’ve finally gotten it right.

Every time I make it for dinner, it takes us back to our pre-honeymoon in Italy.

The kids went with us for our actual honeymoon, but that’s another story.

Grilled Pizza with Pears, Gorgonzola and Toasted Hazelnuts

I like to make this at night after work, so I cheat and buy readymade pizza dough at Trader Joe’s in a bag. You can find it in the deli section at Tj’s, near the cheeses and fresh pasta.

Toppings:

• 8 ounces crumbled gorgonzola cheese
• 1 pear (about), halved, cored, very thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup caramelized sweet onion
• 1/3 cup toasted hazelnut or walnut pieces, coarsely broken
• Freshly cracked black pepper
• Extra-virgin olive oil

Prepare barbecue (medium heat). Transfer pizza to grill. Cover and cook until cheese softens and crust is golden on bottom, 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer pizzas to work surface. Sprinkle with pepper; drizzle with a little additional olive oil. Cut into wedges and serve.

Side note: The grill is medium-hot when you can hold your hand 5 inches above rack for 3 to 4 seconds.

{pizza pic from Epicurious, all other photos by yours truly}

Romantic Weekend Get-Away

2010-04-20T17:26:00.000-07:00

I love the smell of freshly brewed coffee, early in the morning, against the backdrop of a cold house. I’m not sure why it’s different when the house is chilly. It just is, and it’s lovely.

I’m sitting in the corner of a room on a soft, velvet-covered futon couch, wrapped in a warm, hand-stitched cotton calico quilt. Kevin found this treasure of a hideaway on the Benton County tourism website just a couple of days before we were to arrive.

A smallish barn-shaped cottage, a stone’s throw from the owner’s home, sat underneath the skeleton of an old tree house.

Kevin unloaded our laptop, the backpack with our clothes, and my camera bag from the car, and told me the code to open our door had simply been programmed with our telephone number. I plugged the numbers in and resigned myself to what I might find once we entered.

A tiny entry way table with a vintage looking lamp and a glass plate with chewy, homemade, peanut-butter-and-chocolate-chip cookies wrapped in foil labeled “cookies” greeted us at the door.

The room was dark, but softly lit with hundreds of tiny, white Christmas tree lights carefully strung through a naturally dried garland of hops trimming the ceiling over the wrought-iron bed. It was a cozy sanctuary and reminded me of a honeymoon cottage in the forest… simple and clean, but with luxurious accents like deep crimson, high count cotton sheets and layers of comforters’, quilts and velvety throws to pile on the bed in case you are chilled.

The windows were covered with handmade curtains and the little bathroom off the bedroom was outfitted with plenty of thick cotton towels, a huge double shower, and a modern country sink. We set our backpack of clothes down in front of the antique dark oak armoire and headed up the narrow stairway.

An airy, light-filled loft with shining wood floors surrounded by windows and a full deck greeted us. The room was open with a small kitchen, an elegant glass-and-iron table for two, a futon couch, rocking chair, gas cast-iron stove fireplace and a large flat screen TV with a DVD player. This cottage had everything one could want for a getaway weekend.

The owners’ children played quietly in the distant field, herding chickens into the henhouse and playing hide-and-seek in the grass. They rendered the background noise that evening with the faint sound of children’s laughter mingling with a chorus of frogs croaking in the distance. Country music.

As I sat at the window with a glass of champagne from the local Corvallis co-op to write, I felt cozy and at peace.

All of the details had been tended to, and this morning I have found even more lovely touches that make me love this secret space even more; the cupboard in the kitchen, the one just over the coffee maker, tea kettle, and double burner, is stocked with everything one could need – an impressive Yogi Tea collection, gourmet hot chocolate mix, sugar, non-dairy creamer (fresh milk was provided in the small fridge), quality coffee beans -- even an extra bag of decaf and a grinder. A wicker basket filled with fresh bagels rests on the microwave next to a stained glass rooster nightlight, along with cream cheese, two yogurts, salad dressing and juice in the small fridge. A bowl with bananas and an orange rests on the tiny table as well. Every need has been thought of and the easy makings of a light continental breakfast awaits us for when Kevin comes upstairs.

The only problem is, I think as I write this, is that if too many other people will find out about our new hideaway it might not be available as often as I might want to escape. I sort of love the fact that for now, it’s our own little treasure chest, a warm romantic place seemingly light years away from the rest of the world.... a honeymoon cottage just an hour and half drive from the city.

{ Alder Creek Cottage}

Cooking with Kids

2010-04-19T15:30:00.000-07:00

Since the hubs and I work at a culinary school, of course my children have been practically raised around fresh food, creative recipes, and people who love to cook for a living. Like almost all families, we have a few consistent recipes that we often make at home, and most of our celebrations, birthdays and holidays are centered around delicious food. All three children like to cook. Lizzie seems to prefer baking, but even she is open to creating savory dishes, such as Indian Dal and Oven Roasted Garlic served on a crispy baguette.

Emma is a wonderful little cook. She called me over the weekend from her friend’s house to find out if there was an appropriate substitute for eggs as she was making pancake batter after spending the night. (Before I could even fill her in, she had experimented successfully with mashed banana).

We spend a lot of time cooking together and talking about recipes and food. In the summer, I try to get them to visit the local Farmer's Market with me and choose the best looking veggies to serve with dinner. I've had a bit of a hard time, though, getting my little Emma to eat her veggies. I've decided to let her help even more in the process of buying those particular groceries and helping me cook them with the hopes that she'll be more inclined to taste and eat something she's had a hand in.

In the meantime, usually any veg, no matter how healthy it looks, accompanied by gooey melted cheese, will be eaten by a child.

Broccoli with Melted Chedder Cheese Dipping Sauce

1 pound broccoli, cut into 1-inch florets with about 2 inches of stem attached
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 1/4 cups milk
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 teaspoon dry mustard mixed with 1/2 tablespoon water
6 ounces sharp or mild white cheddar cheese, shredded (1 1/2 cups)
Kosher salt

Directions:

In a large, deep saucepan, bring 1 inch of water to a boil. Fill a steamer basket with the broccoli, add it to the saucepan, cover and steam over high heat until the broccoli is crisp-tender, about 5 minutes.

Transfer the broccoli to a platter.

Meanwhile, in a saucepan, melt the butter. Add the flour and whisk over medium high heat for 2 minutes. Add the milk and cream and cook, whisking, until thickened, about 2 minutes. Add the mustard and cheese and cook over moderately low heat until the cheese is melted. Season the sauce with salt, transfer to a bowl and serve with the broccoli.

{recipe via Food & Wine magazine}

lovin this

2010-04-17T09:02:00.001-07:00

Walk Into the World With Your Heart Wide Open

2010-04-17T07:36:00.001-07:00

Emma, originally uploaded by uncommonmuse.

Pretty in Pink: Champagne Cocktail Punch

2010-04-16T13:15:00.000-07:00

An electric pink Champagne Cocktail served in a Punch Bowl is absolutely feminine and nostalgic and used to be the heart and soul of a good party.

Punchbowls are the Lolita of serving ware.

But sadly, like frothy tulle petticoats, Punchbowls and their deliciously naughty, girly contents seem to have fallen out of fashion and barely anyone has one in their cupboard anymore.

I’ve decided to bring back The Punchbowl. In my own little world at least.

I'm going to search garage sales and thrift stores.
... and if I can just find those dainty sweet and innocent little cups that hang off the side with matching clear glass snack plates, I will be a happy happy girl.

Pink Champagne Punch
(charmingly lethal)

• 1 bottle of pink champagne
• 2 pints of good quality raspberry sherbet or sorbet
• large bottle of sparkling pink lemonade from Trader Joes (highbrow) or 1 liter of Cherry 7’Up (lowbrow)

Pour all of the ingredients together into a fancy schmancy vintage punch bowl, toss in some ice and a big glass ladle and take a swig. Be sure to smack your lips loudly and reapply your frosted lipstick.

Celebrate the weekend in style kittens.

Another Excuse to Indulge in Chocolate

2010-04-15T15:02:00.000-07:00

Long ago, cocoa beans were used as currency.

Back then, if you were Aztec, you may have bought a turkey for one hundred beans or an avocado for three. Cacao made into a beverage was drunk as a medicinal beverage in Jamaica and served to patients for its health benefits by Apocrathy's. Chocolate's also been touted as the ultimate aphrodisiac and ancient Mayan's believed cocoa fought fatigue and fermented cacao based beverages were served at sacred ceremonies to induce a sense of well being and contentment with the universe.

In other words, Chocolate is Good.

I absolutely love the feeling of biting through a piece of high quality chocolate. Your teeth sort of push through lovely little smooth layers, and then the bitter-sweet taste and silky feel of it melts onto your tongue. It’s exotic, heavenly and comforting all at once.

Dark chocolate is one of my favorite guilty pleasures and is finally being touted for its health benefits. If you eat a small square before bed, it may even count as a vitamin. (wink wink) I’ve tried to explain to my hubby that if I eat a bite of dark chocolate before bed I don’t even need to brush my teeth. After all, studies have shown that the antioxidants may even fight the bacteria that cause tooth decay.

I think I should invent chocolate mouthwash.

Chocolate mouthwash may not be available on super market shelves just yet, but one of the graduates of my Culinary School has the perfect confection to cure your chocolate cravings and make you feel natural, healthy, and like a good little conscientious consumer to boot. Daren Hayes, graduate of Oregon Culinary Institute, is a raw chocolate alchemist and has created a fabulous little company called Stirs the Soul Chocolate. It’s local, independently owned, good for you and absolutely delish.

Maybe, just maybe, it can even improve your love life.
Which is the best excuse of all to indulge.

Ultimate Guacamole

2010-04-14T14:38:00.000-07:00

The name is reminiscent of a Super Hero.

Gorgeously green, subtly tinged with a light squeeze of lemon, a pinch of salt, and the warm nuance of garlic, this is absolutely the best recipe for guacamole I’ve ever tasted. (And believe me, I’ve had a fair share of the green stuff).

My Subtly Amazing husband is actually a subtly amazing cook when he puts his mind to it. This is his go-to recipe. I bet he makes a batch at least once a week.

He whips it up for last minute company, and when we have a dinner party to go to, or simply to celebrate Friday afternoon. Sometimes, if I play my cards right and bat my lashes when I am craving it, even Wednesday afternoons.

I’ve been known to eat nothing but chips and guac for dinner.

This is not only the freshest and best tasting recipe for guacamole I’ve sampled, but there are only a few basic ingredients. It’s so simple to make, he’s passed the recipe down to my son:

· 1 or 2 large ripe avocados (preferably organic)
· 1 large clove of garlic finely minced or pushed through a garlic press
· A couple glugs of high quality olive oil (makes it extra rich and creamy)
· A Squeeze of lemon or lime juice to taste
· A pinch or 2 of sea salt

Mash together the avocados, garlic, olive oil and lemon juice with a fork, then season with a few dashes of salt.

*Be sure to put the avocado pit right into the bowl along with your glowing green concoction if you are preparing it in anticipation that it won’t be consumed immediately. The pit helps to keep it fresh tasting and void of unsavory browning.

Serve with pita chips, blue corn chips or your favorite brand corn chip. Also delicious served on toasted bread with a little smudge of cream cheese and a slice of cucumber... my sons favorite breakfast treat.

Glamourous Sixties Vibe

2010-04-14T13:01:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid I adored 007. His suave tuxedo, slicked back hair and martini were to die for. I'd stay up late and watch the movies with my dad.

As much as I wanted to portray the adventure and calm cool demeanor of James Bond himself, I wished I could look the women in his movies. Sexy smart super sleuth-y women wooed Bond with their feminine prowess and either became his protective ally or mortal enemy.

Either way, they were gorgeous to the point of being dangerous.
And what I would give for a tube of lipstick that doubled as a fabulous spy tool!

Sexy-sixties style has stuck with me as the ultimate in classic glamour inspiration. Every once in a while, I still attempt to channel my inner bond girl when I slip into tall boots and slather on black eye liner curling it up a bit at the ends.

Gotta love the classic sixties vibe going on in this cool little French video. Check it out ... it's sort of a mixture of Belinda Carlisle and Audrey Hepburn as a Bond girl~

Gorgeous Tattoo Stockings!

2010-04-13T12:23:00.000-07:00

Va Va Voom.

I'm just not the sort of gal to bite the bullet and endure the pain of a true tattoo. It's also the kind of long term comittment I'm not hip enough to make.

But stockings, now that's another matter entirely. This little Etsy Shop has adorable and stlyish stockings that will help me fake my way through.

Just think sexy urban-hipster chick meets Bettie Paige.

Thai Coconut-Chicken Soup

2010-04-13T11:47:00.000-07:00

It's a soup sort of day. This is what I'm making for dinner tonight, and if we're lucky, there will be leftovers for lunch tomorrow...

Ingredients:

• 4 ounces cellophane or thin rice noodles
• 6 cups low-sodium chicken broth (best quality you can afford)
• 1–2 red Thai (or jalapeño) peppers, seeded and finely chopped (plus slices for garnish)
• 3 cloves garlic, chopped
• 1 tablespoon grated ginger
• 2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
• 1 teaspoon grated lime zest
• 1/4 cup fresh lime juice
• 4 tablespoons Thai fish sauce, divided
• 1/2 pound shiitake mushrooms, sliced (3 cups)
• 2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 5 ounces each), cut into 2 1/2-inch-long by 1/4-inch-wide strips
• 1 full can of light coconut milk
• 2 cups baby spinach
• 1 cup fresh bright green snow peas
• 2 tablespoon chopped cilantro (plus sprigs for garnish)
• 2 teaspoons red curry paste
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar

Preparation:

Place cellophane noodles in a bowl then add just enough warm water to cover them and let sit until soft. (about 15 minutes) Drain noodles. Combine chicken broth, peppers, garlic, ginger, lemon zest, lime zest, lime juice and 3 tablespoons of the fish sauce plus the brown sugar into a medium saucepan. Now season with a bit of salt. Bring to a broth to a gentle simmer, add noodles and cook 3 minutes more. Using tongs, transfer noodles to a bowl and cover with foil to keep warm. Add mushrooms to broth and season with a tiny bit more salt then simmer 3 minutes more. Add chicken and coconut milk and bring to a simmer, stirring, until chicken is just cooked through, about 3 minutes or so. Stir in spinach until it begins to wilt, (about 1 minute) Add roughly chopped cilantro and season with remaining 1 tablespoon fish sauce and red curry paste. Using tongs, divide noodles among 4 bowls. Ladle soup into bowls and garnish with sprigs of cilantro and slices of pepper.

{delish recipe found on Epicurious}

The Lost Art of the Knife and Fork

2010-04-12T18:45:00.001-07:00

fork and knife, originally uploaded by Back Burner.

It’s no secret that I’ve been raving about Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution for the past few weeks.

My entire family has been seriously moved by Jamie’s passionate plea for the American people to open their eyes and see what has become of us in terms of what we think is acceptable to eat. Aside from what is served in our public schools, the simple fact is, that as a country, we treat food and the act of eating and often our very health as an afterthought. The truth is, all of those things are connected. It is the foundation of our quality of life.

I guess didn’t realize how bad things have gotten. In one of the shows we watched, Jamie had this particular conversation with a school lunch cook:

"We're tryin' to figure out how we're going to do this fork/spoon business," said Alice, one of the cooks in the school cafeteria. "They need a fork?"

Oliver: "Yeah, and a knife would be nice. They don't have a knife?"

"Oh no. No knives."

"You don't get your kids to use a knife and fork?" Oliver replies, confusion clouding his boyish features.

In an on-camera narration, he underscores: "[That] means from the age of 4 to 10, they never use a knife and fork!"

I am embarrassed to admit some of my own shortcomings as a busy parent. In the hustle and bustle of everyday life, I have often opted for what is easy vs. what is right.

Especially when it comes to food.

We as Americans are convenience oriented. From the beginning, we give our children tippy cups, Capri Sun Juice Bags, cardboard Juice Boxes and plastic water bottles instead of real drinking glasses and cups without lids. We eat on the run and drink on the run. As adults, we nurse “to go” coffee containers and Starbucks coffee with spill proof lids, a grown-up tippy cup. We do it out of shear necessity, to avoid annoying spills on furniture, in the car, on their clothes. It’s normal right? It makes complete sense and we don’t even think about it. Cleaning up our children’s spills or having them clean them is time consuming.

We consider ourselves good parents who are cognizant our children’s desire and need for snacks, by giving them prepackaged finger foods, that instantly satiate their appetite. But when we do this, when we eat “on the go” and “on the run” so often, even though we are satisfying our child’s basic need to eat, we devalue the act of eating itself.

By sharing so many meals this way, we inadvertently encourage and teach our children to overeat and not pay attention to what they eat because we are not stopping, not slowing down to sit down and eat. Have we completely traded in what is good and right for what is fast, cheap and easy?

I myself have, in a rushed panic, stopped at the drive through and tossed fast food into the backseat at my children so they can at least have basic carbs and calories to sustain them on their way to or home from a sport activity, birthday party or school function. I don’t just do it out of desperation; I do it because it seems normal. Almost all parents do it. We are oblivious to it anymore.

As Americans, we are deprived of nothing, and we are armed with pizza, Go-gurt, mozzarella sticks, hamburgers and chicken nuggets, so who needs cutlery? We have sporks. We have food that is instant and cheap, that can be eaten right out of its wrapper and had for 99 cents almost anywhere in a matter of minutes.

Reality is, we are busy parents with busy kids. But maybe, just maybe, we over schedule our children with never-ending sports, classes and activities, and maybe we’ve lost sight of some of the basic important things in life as a result. Don’t get me wrong, I know sports are important because they teach fairness, fitness and sportsmanship. But think about the reality of what is happening when our kids are constantly being chauffeured in the minivan from one thing to another with fast food and prepackaged snacks being thrown to them into the backseat… how healthy can our super-athletically involved kids be if we are trading excessive sports activities for unhealthy, thoughtless eating habits? What has happened to having time to sit with our kids at the table and talk to them about things that matter instead of only having time to talk to them while we drive them from one sport and activity to another?

As healthy families and individuals, we need to find the balance. We need to look at what we are becoming as a society that is always in a hurry. We should look at what our ultra-packed fast-paced schedule is doing to our kids.

It seems like we are beginning to figure out that we are what we eat. Maybe now we need to look at how we are beginning to resemble how we eat.

Maybe we should sit down to eat at least once a day with our family. We can teach our children to enjoy the act of shopping and cooking and eating and make time for it. We need to take time out of our busy schedules and focus on what is important, even if it means giving up something else.

Their health is worth it.

Sunday Inspiration: Dance. Cook. Live.

2010-04-11T11:25:00.000-07:00

Coconut Macaroons

2010-04-10T16:53:00.000-07:00

There's almost nothing quite so wonderful as the smell of warm vanilla, sweet cream butter and fresh coconut baking together into a golden cookie. Vanilla coconut macaroons are about the simplest cookie to make and are the perfect blend of sweet, nutty, chewy and crisp.

You can just pop them in your mouth, practically one after the other, and know that all is right with the world.

Brew up an afternoon pot of coffee or tea and enjoy your Saturday lovelies! PS~ This particular recipe belongs to Chef Hammer at the Culinary School and is the BEST. Give it a whirl.

6 oz sugar

6 oz macaroon coconut

1 oz corn syrup

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

2 tsp pastry flour

1 pinch of salt

3 egg whites

Combine all ingredients in a glass bowl then warm over a pot of simmering water or let sit for 1 hour. Once mixture has set for an hour or cooled, scoop small dollops onto parchment and bake on a cookie sheet at 375 degrees for about 13 minutes.

Gobble up while sipping a cup of Earl Grey.