Weekly Dish

Dear readers, I am sorry for my unexpectedly long absence. I know you are all tired of looking at those bunny cupcakes (as am I). Many real-life circumstances have conspired to keep me away from the kitchen and the computer, but I hope that I will be back to my regular blogging self shortly. In the meantime, I have a few suprises to share with you (at least one of which will partially explain my hiatus).

First, a surprise arrived on my doorstep yesterday! The very thoughtful and kind Mairead, who writes a blog called Fill Up on Bread, packed a box full of goodies from her homeland of Australia for this round of Blogging By Mail, a fabulous event where food bloggers are assigned the glorious task of sending a little slice of their culinary tradition by post to a fellow blogger. Mairead was assigned to me, and I know she thought her package would never arrive (she posted about it’s send-off over a month ago)!

But arrive it did, and how happy it made me. One of the things I particularly liked about this package is that Mairead attempted to represent the various parts of her culinary heritage: for her upbringing in Ireland, she sent the classic Twinings Breakfast Tea; to represent time she spent in India, three boxes of delicious-sounding masala mixes arrived; and then, of course, there’s Australia. Sweets from Down Under included chocolate biscuits called Tim Tams, which have made the perfect companion to an afternoon of Melbourne’s Vittoria coffee, and chocolate bars called Cherry Ripes, an interesting combination of tart cherry, coconut, and dark, rich chocolate.

One of the things I’m most excited about experimenting with is macadamia oil; I’ve never even heard of it, but I bet it makes a fabulous salad dressing. Next are two native Australian condiments: rosella jam and mango mint chutney. I’m thinking that the jam would be lovely on French bread with a slice of white cheddar cheese for breakfast. A Mexican dip mix sounds like the perfect thing to take to a party I have to go to this weekend, and last but not least, an array of fragrant Australian spices, for which I will have to do some research (fun!) to figure out what to do with them.

Mairead, thank you, thank you, for such a thoughtful and exciting array of flavors from around the world; I can’t wait to try them all.

But, it may take me a while to do so, due to my second surprise. You see, one of the reasons I have been away from the kitchen is because in the first trimester of pregnancy, one’s appetite tends to do bizarre things. That’s right, I’m going to have a baby, and so far, the baby has not wanted me to eat anything very interesting. In fact, opening the refrigerator door often sends me running in the other direction. I’ve been lucky to have avoided sickness, but the faint feeling of nausea, especially induced by smells, has been ever-present, so cooking has not been much fun. Nor have I really felt like standing in the kitchen: pregnancy makes you more tired than I could have imagined. My friend Betsy gave the best description I’ve heard so far: she said she felt like she’d been drugged. David has been a trooper–preparing meals and fetching snacks out of the fridge so I don’t have to open it. Everyone says that the second trimester–which is only a couple of weeks away–is much better, so I’m hoping to be back to blogging, and most of all to cooking. I miss it.

I hope this fall finds all of you out there cooking up wonderful things, and I hope to join you soon.

If you’re interested in what other folks have sent and received for Blogging By Mail, check out the running round-up over at Dispensing Happiness.

This chicken salad recipe is for my sister, who last time I offered her my version with pesto and pine nuts, turned up her nose and said, “I like my chicken salad girly. You know, with grapes and stuff.”

Well, of course she does. This is a girl with shoes and purses in every shade of the rainbow (I have two pairs of flip flops and a black catchall tote), a fabulously expansive make-up collection (mascara and lip gloss for me, thank you), and enough trendy outfits to clothe the cast of Clueless (I’m most comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt).

But whatever our outward differences, Elizabeth and I love many of the same things; good food and each other’s company rank pretty high on the list.

So, sister, next time you come to visit, I’ll make this chicken salad for you, grapes and all. And you better not turn your nose up!

For a pretty, girly way to serve this salad, I halved an avocado, laid it on a bed of spinach, and dressed the whole plate with a spritz of lemon juice, a drizzle of olive oil, and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Then, I scooped the chicken salad into the avocado cavities. All in all, I loved the velvety texture and nutty flavor the avocado added; plus, serving it this way eliminates the need for bread, which makes this recipe healthy for low-carb folks.

For me, good chicken salad is in the details: I always use homemade mayonnaise, as I am terrified of the jarred stuff, but I also think the taste makes a big difference. Toasted pecans add crunch and a depth of flavor, and I love to play pungent red onion against something sweet, like grapes (only I used cherries this time because I had them on hand). Chicken salad comes in many variations and is infinitely flexible, so add what you like and leave out what you don’t. Here’s how I make this one:

Girly Chicken Salad 

2 cups cooked chicken, cut into small pieces (I use leftover roast chicken, both white and dark meat)
Two handfuls of grapes or cherries, pitted and halved
1/4 cup red onion, minced finely
1/2 cup pecans, chopped
1/3-3/4 cup homemade mayonnaise, depending on how dressed you like your salad
1/2 t. Kosher salt
Baby spinach
2 avocados, pitted, peeled, and halved
Olive oil
1 lemon

To toast the pecans, either dry-roast them in a heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat, shaking the pan to prevent them from burning. Or, spread them on a baking sheet, and toast them in a 350-degree oven for 5-7 minutes. Mix the chicken pieces, red onion, pecans, and grapes or cherries, tossing gently. Add the mayonnaise, starting with a little, and then adding until the salad is dressed enough for your taste (this is such a matter of individual preference).

To serve, cover 2 plates with the spinach leaves. Top with the avocado halves. Sprinkle the whole plate with lemon juice, olive oil, and salt. Scoop in the chicken salad. Serves 2 (you’ll have 2-4 servings of chicken salad leftover.)

Last year was insanely busy for my family. In order, from youngest to oldest, the four children in our clan graduated from high school and started college, graduated from college and started law school, got married, and finished one graduate program and entered another. All of us except one moved. My parents, after trotting swiftly from one major life event to another, suddenly found themselves with an empty nest.

Needless to say, it has been a year of adjustment for all of us. The hardest thing for David and me is to know how to negotiate holidays, how to see everyone we need to see without completely wearing ourselves out, and how to mesh quality time with people who matter a great deal to us with our new lives in a new, not-so-near place.

So, when my entire family loaded up to come down for a visit for my birthday in June, I was ecstatic. It was the first time all of us (except my sister-in-law who was badly missed!) had gathered in the same place without a million other people to see, places to go, and things to do. It was just us, and I loved it.

I floated the idea of building a deck in our backyard over Christmas holidays, and my sweet father (who is a builder) immediately offered for him and my brothers to come help. One hot, sticky, 14-hour day later, a perfect structure jutted out from my back door, exactly as I had envisioned it.

To celebrate and to say thank you, I spent the day with my mom and sister preparing food. During the day, we made BLTs for lunch with fresh summer tomatoes, salsa to snack on, and supplied plenty of water, Gatorade, and, as the afternoon wore on, beer for the crew. For dinner, we boiled shrimp, roasted potatoes with rosemary, and tossed together a big salad with crusty bread.

My favorite part of the meal, besides the fact that the people I love were sitting at the table with me eating it, was dessert. For as long as I can remember, my mom has made this peach dessert for my birthday. It’s funny now–Cool Whip, Jello, and cream cheese are not ingredients that regularly find their way into my kitchen, but this dessert screams summer to me, and it’s one of my favorite ways to enjoy fresh peaches.

It’s a quintessential southern layer dessert in many ways–buttery crust, creamy sweet middle, and jello and fruit top, but it’s the combination that makes it so divine. The buttery crust crunches with chopped pecans and provides the perfect salty canvas for the sweet peaches and tangy cream cheese.

We ate about half of the 9×12 pyrex dish the night after the deck-building. Over the course of the next week or so, I proceeded to eat the rest of it nearly by myself, for breakfast, mid-morning snack, just like I did when I was a teenager still living in my parents’ house.

Some things I guess we never grow out of. Favorite desserts and the love of family are two that come to mind every time I step outside my back door.
Mom’s Peach Dessert

1 cup flour
1 stick butter, diced
1/2 cup pecans, chopped finely, plus extra for serving
2 8-ounce packages cream cheese, softened
1 cup Cool Whip plus extra for serving
1 1/4 cup powdered sugar
1/2 cup peach flavored Jell-O
2 T. corn starch
1 cup sugar
2 cups water
4 cups peeled, sliced peaches (about 10-12 whole peaches)

For the crust: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Pulse the flour, butter, and pecans together in a food processor until crumbly. Press the mixture into the bottom of a 9×13 casserole. Bake for 15 minutes, or until golden brown. Cool completely.

For the top: Stir together the Jell-O and corn starch. Bring the water to a boil, and add the Jell-O mixture. Stir until dissolved; add the sugar and continue to cook and stir until the mixture is completely clear. Turn off the heat and set aside.

For the cream cheese layer: Whip the cream cheese, Cool Whip, and powdered sugar until thick and creamy.

To assemble: Once the crust is cool, spread the cream cheese layer evenly on top. Arrange the peach slices in a single layer on top of the cream cheese, and pour the Jell-O mixture over. Cover and refrigerate for at least a few hours, preferably overnight. If you need it to set up in a hurry, the freezer will do it in about 2 hours, sometimes less. To serve, cut into squares and top with a dollop of Cool Whip and a sprinkle of chopped pecans.
If you’re looking for a last-minute Fourth dessert, this one feeds a lot of people. Happy Independence Day, everyone!
If you happen to be looking for me, I’m likely to be in the hammock or the swing pictured below. Dad, Jason, and David, you are my heroes!

For my sister’s 19th birthday, she came for a visit this past weekend. Elizabeth is fun to cook for because a.) she lives in a dorm and shares a tiny kitchen with 120 other college-aged girls b.) she and I have very similar taste in food c.) she gets excited about everything (which also makes her really fun to buy gifts for).

This cake looks complicated, but as long as you allow yourself enough time, it really isn’t hard to make. The base is a buttermilk cake that is dense enough to hold itself together 4 layers high, but moist and loose-crumbed enough to happily soak up all the strawberry juices (especially if you have time to refrigerate it for a couple of hours before serving).

If you like super-sweet desserts, this cake may not be for you. Louisiana strawberries have been sweet this season, so I didn’t sugar the berries. The original recipe also suggests adding sugar to the whipped cream, but I prefer my strawberries English-style with unsweetened cream, so I omitted that step. In my opinion, the cake is sweet enough to provide a counterpoint to the tangy-sweet berries and the smooth, rich cream. Too much sweetener would blur the lines between the separate components too much for me, I think. Elizabeth and my mom agreed, but if you’re making the cake for a person with a real sweet tooth, this recipe would be an easy one to up the caloric ante.

Buttermilk Cake with Strawberries and Cream

Recipe from the Foster’s Market Cookbook by Sara Foster

4 1/2 cups flour
1 T. baking powder
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
3 sticks butter
2 1/4 cups sugar
6 large eggs
2 t. vanilla
2 cups buttermilk
3 cups whipping cream
3 pints strawberries, washed, hulled, and sliced lengthwise

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees, and grease and flour two 9-inch cake pans. Mix the dry ingredients–flour, baking powder, soda, and salt in a large bowl. (Sift if you are a sifting kind of baker. I never sift anything.) Set the dry ingredients aside. In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar. Add the eggs with the mixer running, and beat for a few minutes. The batter should be light and fluffy. Stir in the vanilla.

Measure the buttermilk into a pourable measuring cup. Turn the mixer speed to low and alternately add dry ingredients and buttermilk, stopping to scrape down the sides of the bowl if batter gets stuck there. The ingredients should be just combined.

Pour the batter into greased cake pans. Bake for 45-50 minutes, until the tip of a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. The tops of the cakes should be golden brown. Cool the cakes in their pans for about 10 minutes (the cake should be cool enough to handle without burning your fingers). Turn the cakes onto cooling racks or dish towels and allow them to cool completely. (Don’t omit this cooling step–slicing warm cake into layers is not pretty or fun!)

When the cake is nearly cool, whip your cream until soft peaks form, and slice your strawberries. Have them both at hand while you assemble the cake.

Now comes the tricky part: you need the longest serrated knife you can find. Slice each layer in half, carefully. I am not particularly good at this; mine always come out just a little uneven (as you can see in the picture), but the important thing is to take your time and try to watch your knife: make sure that the blade is always in the center of the layer. I start at the corner and then work my way around the cake. If you mess up, don’t worry, just make sure you have one pretty, even layer for the top.

Place the ugliest layer bottom-side down on a cake plate (so that the exposed part is the center). Spread an even layer of whipped cream over the cake. Lay the sliced strawberries evenly around the outside edge (they will be the ones that stick out, so you want them to be even and pretty); then fill in the center with sliced berries. Top with the next layer, and repeat this process. If you plan to refrigerate the cake, wrap it in foil when you’ve placed the last layer. Before serving, top the last layer with a handful of sliced berries and a dollop of cream.

Another fun thing about my sister is that she loves dessert so much that she often eats it for breakfast. In honor of her, that’s what I had this morning–leftover birthday cake!

Here I am making the cake for my sister; I wanted to show off my new apron that my sweet Aunt Prissy got for me. Isn’t it so cute? I almost feel like I should be wearing pearls and heels with it. I wore it a few weeks ago when I cooked for my girlfriends on our beach trip–they all agreed that it would make a really cute dress too. Thanks, Aunt Pris!

When I moved into my first apartment, my Aunt Jennifer brought me a basket with a loaf of French bread, a container of homemade mayonnaise, and several Vidalia onions, the ingredients for my very favorite treatment of the sweetest onion of all–the Vidalia.

Aunt Jen has been making what she calls San Francisco bread for as long as I can remember, and I am now carrying on the family tradition. I love to serve this bread to guests because they can never guess just what exactly is on it. I know it might sound strange, but I urge you to try it anyway, especially if you find yourself in possession of a sweet, sweet onion. I’ve not had one unsuccessful attempt to convert doubtful guests.

A few caveats: you must, MUST only attempt this recipe with homemade mayonnaise. I try hard not to be authoritarian about much in my cooking instructions, but for the good of the onion, please do not contaminate its sweet spring freshness with storebought mayo. The results will not be the same. And, I know there are risks for consuming raw eggs. All I can say about that is that my family has lived on homemade mayonnaise for generations, and we’ve all survived. Do with that information what you will.

I served this bread with our paneed catfish (a dusting of Tony Chachere’s cajun seasoning and a few minutes in a inch of olive oil–nothing too complicated about that) and Ivonne’s lemony potatoes (with rosemary instead of oregano and red new potatoes instead of Yukon golds) last night to our dear friend Casey. Everything was yummy, but I love this bread best. Maybe it just reminds me of home.

Aunt Jennifer’s San Francisco Bread
One half of a loaf of French bread

1/2 cup minced Vidalia onion

Homemade mayonnaise (recipe follows)

Kosher salt

Cracked black pepper

Preheat the broiler. Cut the bread in half lengthwise. Spread each half with a thick layer of mayonnaise. Cover with onions; season well with salt and pepper. Broil for a few minutes, until the bread is brown and crusty and the onions are soft. Slice and serve. Serves 4-6.

Homemade Mayonnaise
1 egg

1 T. cider vinegar

Juice of 1 lemon

1/2 t. Kosher salt

1/2 t. paprika

1/4 t. cayenne pepper

3/4 cup salad oil (canola or vegetable or a combination), divided

Place all ingredients in the blender, but start with only 1/4 cup of the oil. After the ingredients are blended, with the motor running, add the remaining oil in a very slow, steady stream. The mayonnaise should emulsify, creating a very thick consistency. The blender should start to spurt and sputter. It will keep in the refrigerator for about a week.

The other night we invited friends over for dinner. We wanted to grill and sit outside–the spring weather here has been lovely. So I was looking for a dessert recipe that I could make ahead of time, put in the fridge, and forget about until later. Three pints of gorgeous Louisiana strawberries from the morning’s market visit begged to be part of whatever I concocted, so I decided to turn my Basalmic Strawberries and Mascarpone Cream into a tart.

Because I had time, I made the crust from scratch (see my notes about making the crust below), but a refrigerated one would work just fine too (although you should read Aunt Prissy’s warning below before you make that decision).

Seasonal, sweet strawberries are the stars in this dessert: the creamy filling and basalmic syrup are really just glitzy accessories. Once you’ve made the crust, the tart comes together quickly, and then you can slide it in the fridge and concentrate on your guests. Just the kind of make-ahead dessert that’s perfect for an evening of grilling for company. Or perhaps for Easter brunch?

Basalmic-Mascarpone Strawberry Tart

1 recipe Aunt Prissy’s Basic Pie Crust (see below)
2 pints strawberries
2 T. sugar (or less, depending on how sweet the berries are)
1/2 cup mascarpone cheese
1/2 cup whipping cream
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1/4 cup good balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup sugar

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Roll the dough into a circle, lightly working from the center to get it as even as possible. Carefully lay the circle of dough on your tart pan, letting the excess hang over the edge. Gently press the dough into the pan, using your fingers to trim it to fit and to press it into the fluted edge. Pierce all over with a fork. Cover with aluminum foil, pressing it lightly to make sure it stays put (or if you have pie weights or beans, you can use those to keep it in place.) Bake for about 12 minutes, then remove the foil, and bake for 10 minutes more, or until lightly golden brown.

Meanwhile, wash and hull the strawberries. Dry them, and then cut them into quarters or slices, whichever you prefer, toss them into a bowl, sprinkle with sugar, and set aside. Whip the mascarpone and powdered sugar together until well-combined. Add the cream in a steady stream with the mixer running on medium-low speed. You want to whip the cream so that it’s thick but not stiff; it’s easy to overmix it. It should still be pourable so you can spread it onto the tart crust.

In a saucepan, bring the vinegar and 1/4 cup sugar to a slow boil; reduce the heat, and cook for another few minutes. Turn off the heat and set aside; it will thicken as it cools.

To assemble: spread the mascarpone mixture evenly over the bottom of the crust. Top with the strawberries. At this point, the tart can be covered and refrigerated for several hours. When ready to serve, drizzle the basalmic syrup over the top (this looks pretty; sorry I don’t have a picture, but I think it’s rude to make guests wait to eat while I do a photo shoot!).

Aunt Prissy’s Basic Pie Crust
1 1/4 cups flour
3/8 t. salt
1/4 cup vegetable shortening
3 1/2 T. cold butter
4-5 T. cold water

In a food processor, pulse the flour, salt, shortening, and butter together until crumbly (pea-sized crumbles). Add the water, a tablespoon at a time, continuining to pulse, until the dough forms into a ball. You want to be careful not to overprocess it, but it takes a few minutes for the dough to stick together. Just don’t leave the motor running. Pull the dough out and form into a ball. Cover with plastic wrap, flattening it into a disc, and refrigerate for about an hour (this time, I only waited 45 minutes before rolling it out, and it was fine). Roll out onto a floured board, but take your time; you don’t want to put too much pressure on it. Proceed to pie recipe.

Notes about the crust: My Aunt Prissy wrote this recipe on an index card to go into my Aunt’s Recipe Book I received when I got married. I have halved the recipe because I rarely make a double-crusted pie and because only this much will fit into my small food processor. If you have a big one, please feel free to double the recipe. If you have never made a homemade pie crust and you are scared, I will leave you with these words that Aunt Prissy wrote on the back of the recipe card: “Please do not be afraid to make pie crust. Flour, crisco, butter, and salt do not have souls. You do not have to win them to Christ. They are just ingredients that happen to make all pies taste fabulous as opposed to pies made with store-bought, already-made pie crusts that only taste good. Do not be afraid, have courage, take up the fight to learn how to make your own pie crust and go forth!!”

Happy Easter, everyone!

The first time my husband saw me eat a raw oyster, I wasn’t sure if our relationship would make it. I have treasured these sea-dwelling delicacies for as long as I can remember. But David? Not so keen on the texture. And, he cringed every time I slid one off of a cracker into my mouth. But oysters are supposed to be so romantic, I said, the ultimate love food. How could we be in love and not enjoy oysters together?

Thankfully, David bravely overcame his oyster-phobia and even enjoys them raw (or so he says) these days. But one of his favorite ways that I fix them is this way: baked under a layer of bread crumbs, butter, and blue cheese.

Because I love them so, we often have oysters on various special occasions. It just so happens that I made these about a month ago, in celebration five years of marriage to the man who has learned to endure many quirky things about me, including my passion for these slippery little mollusks. For that alone, I love him so.

This recipe is adapted from Blue Cheese Oysters in (fittingly enough) Martha Hopkins’ and Randall Lockridge’s aphrodesiac cookbook, Intercourses.

Blue Cheese Oyster Gratin

2 dozen oysters (I buy them already shucked, packed in liquid from my fish market)
4 ounces blue cheese, crumbled
1/2 cup bread crumbs
3 T. butter, softened
Sliced bread (I used sourdough)
2 large cloves garlic, halved

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees; spray a square baking dish with cooking spray. In a small bowl, combine the butter, bread crumbs, and blue cheese. Lay the oysters in a single layer in the bottom of the baking dish. Top evenly with the blue cheese mixture. Bake for about 12-15 minutes, until the bread crumbs are browned and the cheese is soft and melted. Toast the bread slices while the oysters are baking. Rub each side with the cut side of a garlic clove; serve the oyster gratin with the toast.

I served a simple salad on the side: raddicchio, baby lettuce, carrot, halved grapes, and blue cheese crumbles, under a sherry mustard vinaigrette (for which I promise to post a recipe soon; I always forget to measure quantities when I make it!)

My love of all things Ina is no secret to those who know me well. I have learned much about cooking from the Barefoot Contessa, and her cookbooks remain my most-often referenced.

For Christmas, my dear sister-in-law, who shares my love of the Contessa, gave me Barefoot in Paris. The reason I haven’t posted about it yet is because I believe in getting to know a cookbook before I commit to a full-blown evening with it. Call me old-fashioned, but I tend to take things slowly, reading the book through over a cup of coffee once or twice, getting a feel for what it has to offer, before I settle on my first recipe.

As the weather has been truly stew-worthy and as I thought my foray into French cuisine should start with something simple and classic, I began with Beef Bourguignon. Not the most photogenic dish, mind you, but don’t be fooled by its humble appearance. This stew is well worth the time you must wait for it to come to full flavor and the price of the wine and brandy you must put up to coax the homely beef, carrots, and onions into saucy decadence.

One of the things I most like about the dish is its versatility. The first night we ate it over garlic-rubbed bread, as the Contessa instructs. But rice and egg noodles also made good accompaniments, and thinned with some beef broth, it makes an excellent soup. The best thing about it, though, is that I made it on a Monday and it provided at least 3 other meals for us throughout the week (that’s 8 servings altogether), and I thought it was even better each time I ate it again, which doesn’t usually happen with me and leftovers. For a busy, cold week, this beef stew was my perfect match. Definitely worth the wait.

Beef Bourguignon
adapted from Ina Garten’s Barefoot in Paris (thanks, Hannah!)

Olive oil
1/2 pound bacon, diced
2 1/2 pounds beef chuck, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 pound carrots, sliced thickly on the bias
1 yellow onion, sliced
1 red onion, sliced
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 cup brandy
1 bottle dry red wine
1 14 1/2-ounce can beef broth
1 T. tomato paste
1 T. chopped fresh rosemary (or thyme or sage)
3 T. butter
3 T. flour

Preheat the oven to 250 degrees. Heat a teaspoon or 2 of olive oil in the biggest skillet (with a lid) you’ve got or in a Dutch oven.  Brown the bacon until it’s done, but not crispy. Remove the bacon, but leave the fat; return to medium-high heat. Add the cubes of beef in batches, making sure not to overcrowd the pan. Turn the pieces quickly to brown the meat on all sides; remove to the plate with the bacon.

When all the meat is seared, add the carrots and onions to the pan and cook for about 12-15 minutes, until the onions are golden brown. Add the garlic, and cook for another few minutes. Season with plenty of Kosher salt and cracked pepper. Now comes the fun part. Have the half cup of brandy and a match or lighter. Add the brandy, and light it on fire, standing away from the stove. It will burn off in less than a minute, but it’s fun to watch!

Stir in the beef and bacon pieces, and pour in the wine. Stir and season with salt and pepper. Add the beef broth; make sure that the meat is sufficiently covered. Stir in the tomato paste and rosemary. Bring the mixture to a boil, then pop it into the oven to cook for about an hour.

Remove the pan from the oven and return to the stove top. Mash the butter and flour into a paste, and stir into the stew to thicken. Bring it to a boil; reduce and simmer for about 10-15 minutes. To serve, layer thick slices of crusty bread, rubbed with cut garlic, into bowls; ladle the stew on top.

Note: Ina’s recipe calls for small frozen onions and sauteed mushrooms, to be added after the stew has been cooked in the oven. I was too hungry to slice and cook mushrooms by the time the stew was ready, but I’m sure they would make a nice addition. In my opinion, the stew is onion-y enough, so I left out the frozen ones altogether.

I’ve decided to take my battle with the cold weather to a new level. Making hearty food that warms me and standing in front of a hot stove are certainly tactics worth their salt. There’s nothing quite like the sensation of being warmed from the inside out, as hot or spicy food fills you up and radiates its magic.

But, what if, instead, I asked myself, I simply pretended it wasn’t cold at all? What if I channeled the warmth of spring by cooking springtime food? This sounds crazy, you say. You can’t trick yourself into a season!

Usually I wouldn’t be in favor of such trickery because it would probably mean cooking with out-of-season vegetables, which I don’t like to do (mealy tomatoes, anyone?) But perhaps it’s no accident that citrus is in season in the dead of winter. Perhaps the lemons and oranges on the trees this time of year are meant precisely to coax us out of our cold-weather slumber, to give us a glimpse of the light, bright flavors of spring, to tide us over until warm air returns.
Springtime in Mississippi has always been my favorite time of year. The whole green world seems to come to life in a matter of days, and the temperature is balmy and pleasant, not too hot like summer. This coming spring will be my first in Louisiana, but I’m already a bit disconcerted. The Japanese magnolias and pear trees have already bloomed out, and the azaleas are starting to show their vibrant pinks in full flower. And it’s 40 degrees outside!

Well, instead of complaining about it, I decided to channel the warm spring air from my kitchen. Last spring, as soon as it was warm enough, David and I spent many a Sunday afternoon with our friends Jerrod and Jessie and Lydia in a park not far from our neighborhood. We packed whatever food we had on hand that seemed appropriate, tossed a blanket in the trunk, and headed outdoors.

This pasta salad recipe is one Jessie gave me a long time ago, and it reminds me of springtime, picnics, and most of all, good friends.

Jessie’s Pasta Salad
I made this with leftover chicken from one of David’s Roasted Birds; it comes together in a snap and tastes even better the next day.
1/2 cup sour cream
juice of 1 lemon
6 T. olive oil
2 T. Cavender’s Greek Seasoning
1/2 T. lemon pepper
3 1/2 cups cooked chicken, chopped (I don’t think I use quite that much)
Olives, either a small can of the sliced black ones or a handful of your favorite fancier ones (I used Greek ones this time because I had them)
4 green onions, sliced
1/2 red bell pepper, diced (I omitted this, but I bet the color would be nice)
12-ounce package bow tie pasta

Cook the pasta until al dente; drain and set aside. Mix up the dressing in a large bowl by whisking together th sour cream, lemon juice, olive oil, and seasonings. Toss in the pasta and stir to coat. Add the chicken, green onions, olives, and bell pepper if using. Mix well, until everything is coated with the dressing. Eat immediately, or refrigerate until you’re ready for your (pretend) picnic.

Don’t get me wrong. I love chocolate as much as the next girl. But really and truly, fruit is where my heart is. Usually, if given the choice, I pick lighter, brighter fruity desserts over dark, rich chocolate ones. It doesn’t mean I won’t pick chocolate occasionally, or even that I don’t have serious chocolate cravings every now and again–I do. But by and large, the simplest, fruit-flavored sweets are the ones that win me over.

Lemon curd has had me hooked from the day we first met, in my kitchen in Jackson several years ago. I was working as the editor of a regional magazine, a job that required an arsenal of skills I didn’t know I had when I was hired (like knowing how to spell 27 varieties of lace for the bridal edition), and I volunteered to make lemon curd for a photo shoot. I don’t even know that I’d ever had it before, and I was quite intimidated by all the zesting and juicing of the lemons. But once I’d made it through all 6 lemons and the curd had arrived at the right consistency, the velvety substance had me swooning.

I could, given the chance, consume large quantities of lemon curd with a spoon, all by itself, and be quite content. But I love it most of all with strawberries. The tangle of tart and sweet, butter and sugar, berry and citrus makes my heart flutter and my tastebuds melt. And if the lemons I curd just happen to be Meyer lemons and the strawberries the first of the season, well, that’s what I have to call love. Pure and simple.

The only thing more delicious to me than this dessert is life with my sweet husband. May your Valentine’s Day bring you such happiness too!

Simple Lemon Curd
1 1/2 cups sugar
5 large eggs
Juice and zest of about 6 regular lemons or 4 Meyer lemons (the juice should equal about a cup to a cup and a half)
1/4 cup butter, cut into pieces

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk the eggs, sugar, juice, and zest together vigorously, until well-blended. Cook slowly over low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture thickens. You MUST keep stirring, or the eggs will cook unevenly and curdle (you don’t want that!). This process usually takes about 15-20 minutes, so be prepared to stir for awhile (I usually pull up a bar stool and put a book in my lap). When it’s done, it should easily coat a spoon. Then, remove it from the heat and stir in the butter until it melts. The mixture will thicken more on refrigeration. It will keep in the fridge for a couple of weeks in a tightly sealed container. Of course, it never lasts that long at our house! Spoon over berries, cake, toast, your Valentine…whatever suits your fancy.

This recipe is this week’s submission to ARF Tuesdays over at Sweetnicks.