Annual Pie Party

Pie.  Three little letters.  My synonym for joy.

How many different types can you name?

Harvest apple? Fresh summer berry? Coconut cream? Chicken Pot? Whoopie? Mud? 3.14159....? (well I AM a math teacher you know).  The list goes on and on.  Which are your favorites?

For me, it depends on the season.  What can I find on the trees, at the Farmer's Market or in my garden to put into a pie? It can be a savory pie, a sweet pie, a hand pie, a pizza pie - the possibilities are endless!  Which is why I have had a Pie Party at the end of the summer each year since I moved up to Maine.  I always serve pizza pies fresh from the grill and sweet pies topped with fresh whipped cream or local gelato. I invite my friends and family to come over and bring along their favorite pie to share.

This year, I made three savory pizzas and one sweet pizza as well as two dessert pies to share. I jotted down some ideas before heading to the Saturday Market in Deering Oaks Park, but I adjusted my recipes as vibrant produce and fresh cheeses caught my eye: over-sized white peaches, runny goat's milk brie, bright rainbow swiss chard, heirloom tomatoes, fresh ricotta...I could've topped a dozen pizzas with the gorgeous food laid out at the market!

Once at home, I started in on my dessert pies.  With a bulging bag of fresh peaches, I had no trouble picking my first pie: a peach & red currant pie with a gingerbread crust inspired by the recipe in the Moosewood Restaurant Book of Desserts cookbook (thanks to Betsey for contributing the currants from her backyard in Burlington, Vermont!).  And the second pie was a no-brainer.  Ever since my last trip to San Francisco, I've been waiting for just the right opportunity to pull out the Tartine pastry cookbook and make their crazy good banana cream pie.  What makes it so amazing, you ask?  A flaky pastry crust, melted bittersweet chocolate, homemade caramel sauce, fresh pastry cream, sliced bananas, a tower of real whipped cream and a garnish of chocolate curls just to push it over the edge (or, in my case, chocolate shavings).  It was worth every step.  The leftovers were still delicious the next day.  AND I have a whole cup of caramel sauce in my frig.  I added sea salt, of course, and plan on using the rest to make caramel brownies.  Don't worry.  I'll post.

With the peach pie cooling and the pastry cream setting in the refrigerator, I turned my attention to the pizzas.  First came the dough.  I doubled this 1 pound dough recipe from Eating Well, using all whole wheat dough and 4 T of yeast.  I came out with four nice-sized balls of dough, which held up on the grill quite nicely.

You can use your favorite dough from the store or make it from scratch.  Either way, it's a snap to grill a tasty pizza.  After the second rise, shape your dough, brush it with olive oil and put it on a hot grill set to medium low, oil side down.  Close the lid, but keep a close eye as it only takes a few minutes to brown and bake.  Then remove the crust with a large spatula, brush the uncooked side with olive oil, put the crust oil side down on a cookie sheet and top the grilled side with your favorite ingredients.  I suggest you precook the ingredients, so the pizza only needs to be on the grill for a few minutes in order to melt the cheese and bake the other side of the crust.  

Now start thinking outside the crust and create some wacky, mouth-watering pizzas!  This is what I came up with this year:

Pizza 1: The Sassy Swiss Chard

fresh ricotta spread on the crust

swiss chard sauteed with cayenne, red pepper, leeks & garlic

corn straight off the cob

Sungold tomatoes

grated pecorino

Pizza 2: Figgy Peach

fig jam spread on crust
sliced white peaches
fresh rosemary
goat's milk brie
toasted slivered almonds

Pizza 3: Balsamic Bliss
ricotta, goat cheese & cracked pepper spread on crust
sauteed red pepper and portobello with balsamic vinegar
fresh avocado
drizzle of balsamic

Pizza 4: Pistachio Pesto Pizza

pistachio pesto spread on the crust

sliced heirloom tomato

fresh mozzarella

fresh basil

toasted pistachios

Pie.

Anyway you make it, it's good stuff.

Happy eating!

Spicy Pickled Carrots & Fennel

When I think of vinegar, I think of hot, Belgian pomme frittes piled into an over-sized, paper cone on the shore of the English Channel.  My family and I were taking a trip by ferry to England to visit friends and we'd stopped for a snack.  At age 11, I was revolted by the idea of dousing my fries with the strong, sour vinegar rather than the traditional, American condiment of ketchup.  Unfortunately for me, there was no ketchup to be found, so I kept it simple and gobbled them down with only a dash of salt. Amazing. Hands down the best fries I've ever had.

As an adult, I can't get enough vinegar: sweet balsamic drizzled over strawberries or grapes, cider vinegar in my fall dressings and roasted tomato jam, salt and vinegar potato chips - hand cut and fresh.  I even use vinegar as my primary cleaning buddy (whose BFF is baking soda).  So you won't be surprised to hear that I love pickled foods.  Anything that takes a long bath in vinegar is worth sampling.  So when I got a good deal on carrots and fennel at the Farmer's Market, I knew what I had to do.  I filled my basket, hurried home and pulled out a canning cookbook for inspiration.  This tasty recipe is heavily adapted from one for pickled fennel.

Pickled Carrots & Fennel with Ginger

adapted from Put 'em Up! by Sherri Brooks Vinton

3 cups distilled white vinegar
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
3 T kosher salt
2 T each fennel seed, coriander seeds, whole peppercorns and whole allspice
5-6 thick slices of fresh ginger, about 1/4 in thick
1 poundish fennel bulbs, thinly sliced
1 poundish carrots, thinly sliced

Note: I used a mandolin to slice my fennel and carrots, but you could do it by hand.

Combine all ingredients from vinegar to seeds in a medium nonreactive pan and bring to a boil.  Add the fresh ginger, fennel and carrots.  Return to a boil, then turn down to simmer for about 5 minutes, or until veggies are tender.  Ladle into jars and refrigerate for up to 3 weeks.

Enjoy these on a cheese plate, on a sandwich, on cold soba noodles, on a salad or just straight out of the jar!

P.S. Make sure you eat the ginger, too - it's delicious and good for you!

Thai Coconut Fish with Grilled Kale Salad

When I planned my second trip to San Francisco last summer, I did my homework.  I researched all the farmer's markets in the city and in Oakland so I could get a sampling of what the local farmers and artisanal food makers had to offer.  On my first trip, I got happily lost in the endless rows of almonds, avocados, peaches, pastries and honey at the Ferry Building (fortunately someone warned me in advance and I arrived hungry).


But this time I didn't want to be just another tourist.


So I took a friend's advice and headed to the market in the UN plaza, which is known for its affordable prices (yes, in San Francisco) and for its Asian influence.  I strolled by each stand, amazed at the number of foods I didn't recognize: knobby gourds and massive squashes in various colors, spiky cucumbers and gangly green beans over a foot in length.  I stopped by a table and asked the farmers to tell me about their vegetables - how do they taste? what are they called? how do you prepare them?  A customer overheard and jumped in to give me tips and recipes.  Later, I was kicking myself for not writing them down.

I couldn't leave empty-handed, so I bought a large bundle of fresh lemongrass and a generous piece of ginger root. 


I spent less than 2 bucks.


Back at my cousin's apartment, I sliced the ginger and the lemongrass and then gave everything a good whack with a heavy spoon to release the flavor.  Then into a large, glass bowl to cover with boiling water and bathe for a spell. This became the most heavenly tea, which I drank for the next 3 days, both hot and chilled.


This helped balance out my daily sweet (insert preferred dessert item here: pastry, ice cream, chocolate; you know, the usual suspects).  Um, OK - sweets.


Actually, who am I kidding here?  I would've had to consume several vats of tea a day to counteract the affects of the sugar shock.  Don't get me started on the burnt brown sugar ice cream with the caramel swirl from Bi-Rite or the insanely delicious banana cream pie with caramel and fluffy whipped cream at Tartine.  Yes, I'm planning another trip soon.


Yet, I digress (dessert, you distract me far too easily).  This new love affair with lemongrass resurfaced last night when I pulled a few stalks together with ginger, peanuts, lime and coconut to create a Thai inspired meal for my honey. That's right - I put the lime in the coconut.  So get out the blender and start cooking!

First, fire up the grill! You could use the broiler instead, but keep a close eye on things so the your dinner doesn't end up charred! (Remind me to tell you sometime about the fire I started in my parent's oven when I tried to make kale chips under the broiler....).  Second of all, read through the whole recipe first so you have a sense of the timing.  It seems like a lot of components, but the prep is quick and the final result is delicious!

Fish & Rice: 

1 can of coconut milk

1 stalk of lemongrass

1 knob of ginger about 1 inch long

juice of 1 lime

Simmer all in a saucepan for 20 minutes and then strain out solids.  

1 pound piece of white fish (I used hake)

Pour just enough over the fish in a shallow dish to cover the fish, sprinkle with cracked pepper and marinate for about 20 minutes on the shelf (don't leave it too long or the lime juice will start to "cook" the fish).  

Meanwhile...

1/2 cup rice (I used strawberry rice, but jasmine would be nice or forbidden rice would be wonderful)

Prepare the rice using the remaining coconut mixture in place of the typical water.

Transfer the fish to a large piece of foil and fold it up like a packet.  Cook it on the grill for about 12 - 18 minutes, depending on how thick the fish is and how hot your grill gets.  You want it flaky, not rubbery! (NOTE: put on the veggies at the same time - keep reading!)

Grilled Kale Salad:

1 red pepper

2 portobello mushrooms

1 medium bunch of kale

peanut oil

1/2 cup toasted peanuts, unsalted

Cut the pepper in half and remove the seeds.  Remove the stems from the mushrooms and brush off any dirt.  Cut stems from kale.  Wash the pepper and kale, pat dry and rub all with peanut oil.  Put the pepper and the mushrooms on the grill at the same time as the fish.

Once the fish and veggies are done, remove all to rest for a minute while you briefly grill the kale.  Lay the leaves out on the grill for about 1 minute, then flip and grill for another 30 seconds.  You want the leaves to wilt and brown, but not shrivel or blacken. 

WARNING: once you've had grilled kale, you'll madly add it to recipes left and right; then you'll start grilling things like chard and lettuce.  It's OK - don't hold back - just go for it.

Cut the peppers and mushrooms into chunks.  Stack up your kale leaves, roll like a yoga mat and slice (yep, you chiffonade like a pro).  Toss together in a bowl with just enough peanut miso dressing to coat.  Top with chopped peanuts.

Peanut Miso dressing:

1/4 cup peanut butter

1/4 cup white miso

2 T soy sauce

drizzle of honey

a few slices of ginger, chopped

Puree in a blender/food processor.  Then add:

1/8 cup hot water

Puree to create a smooth dressing.  Add more water if it's too thick.

Cilantro Scallion puree:

bunch of fresh cilantro

4 or 5 scallions

juice of 1/2 lime

kosher salt

cracked pepper

Roughly chop the cilantro and scallions.  Combine all ingredients in a blender/food processor to combine, but leave it a bit chunky.

Putting it all together:

Serve the fish on the rice, topped with cilantro scallion puree.  Serve the salad along the side with the peanuts on top.  If you have an extra flourish in you, then pop a sprig of cilantro in the rice.  Presentation is everything.

Happy Eating!

Molly

the coveted pastry

I fingered the money in my pocket, just a few bills and some coins, but enough to have a couple of Marks left over.  I smiled in anticipation.  I knew exactly what I would buy with those extra Marks.  I headed up my street and turned down a narrow road that led me up a hill towards the town square.  My shoes made a satisfying tromping noise on the cobblestones as I wove through the old buildings to the small bakery tucked at the edge of the square.  I looked up at the tall houses to see window boxes snuggled in between old shutters, overflowing with bright, red geraniums. Their long tendrils hung lazily over the sides, crowded with bright, green leaves.

Looking ahead, I could see the open square: an empty gathering place with picnic tables, always crowded on weekends in the fall when Oktoberfest was in full swing.  Along the edges of the square were all of my favorite stops: the Gausthaus that served spicy goulash soup and huge cuts of breaded schnitzel paired with fluffy, handmade spaetzle; the gelato shop shining with rows of aluminum bins, packed with a rainbow of creamy colors; the narrow gift shop crowded with stickers, cards, pens, clips and desirably useless gadgets of all sorts.

And then there was the bakery.

The storefront was lined with windows just begging to be leaned upon by passers-by who fell into a food trance at the sight of golden apple strudels, stacked chocolate cakes, twisted egg breads, pyramids of sweet buns, creme-filled pastries, dark loaves of sturdy rye and almond tarts loaded with homemade jam.  Once inside, the counter of glass cases revealed an endless array of pastries, while shelves on the wall behind were stacked with fresh loaves of bread - some hearty and crusty to sop up the juices of a good roast and others delicate and sweet to nibble on with a cup of strong coffee.

Mom sent me to get a nice loaf for dinner - something with a good personality that's soft inside with a crust that will crack and flake when you tear into it.  As an added bonus, she gave me a little extra to get something sweet.  Now you may be thinking that with such an overwhelming variety of options, I might agonize over which pastry or tart to choose.

You would be wrong.

I coveted one pastry over all others. 

I anxiously searched through the glass cases.  And then, I found it.  Light, fluffy chocolate cream slathered thickly between two triangular pastry cookies - piped choux paste baked to golden perfection.  But wait - there's more!  Each corner was then dipped in bittersweet chocolate to create the perfect pastry: creamy, crunchy, chocolaty heaven.  My mouth watered at the sound of the thin, waxed paper crinkling around the large sandwich cookie.  Fortunately, I remembered my task and selected a fresh, round loaf with a dark brown crust as well.

I barely stepped out of the bakery before I reached into the bag.  The first bite stopped me in my tracks.  I had to stand still to savor each layer and catch each precious crumb.  If I had the willpower to make it home, a glass of cold milk would be the perfect companion.  But it never happened.

I remember the look, the smell, the taste of that sandwich cookie as if I devoured one just yesterday, but, in reality, my last trip to the bakery was in 1989.  My father was stationed in Germany, which brought us to the town of Oppenheim, right along the banks of the Rhine River.  One of many food memories of our three year stay in the country, this one remains one of the most vivid.  I don't know if that bakery is still there, nestled into the corner of the small town square, but I often dream of returning to get just one more chocolate cream triangle cookie, dipped in bittersweet goodness...who am I kidding?  I would get at least a dozen to tide me over until my next trip....the next day.

the seed of an idea

What is food to me?

It seems like a simple question, but the answer has filled pages of my journal and I've barely begun to answer it.

Smells and tastes evoke vivid images of their origins. Food is the tag for each life experience; it's the way my mind catalogs memories.  Bright tags with texture, color and smell hang from each memory.  They're all tucked into towering, wooden bookcases that line the walls of a cozy, circular library - the type with rolling ladders to reach high shelves, and tight, spiral staircases.  An oval skylight nestled into the dome roof high above showers warm sunshine into the room, with the help of several tall, skinny windows, reminiscent of any descent medieval tower.  Ivy and other climbing vines wind around banisters from great earthen pots on the ground floor.  Each level boasts a wooden window box overflowing with herbs and happy wildflowers from thyme and lavender to black-eyed susans and rosemary.  There are nooks that beckon: window seats lined with cushions, hammocks hanging with handmade quilts, plush grandmother chairs, antique rockers with soft pillows and knit afghans - all for me to lounge in once I've settled on a memory to savor.  A warm mug of tea in one hand with a soft, spiced ginger cookie or maybe a warm double chocolate brownie and a cold glass of milk that day to keep my company as I open the sturdy cover of a chosen memory to reveal the well-worn pages.

The walls melt away and I'm in my own memory, hearing, smelling, seeing, touching and TASTING it - I can feel the texture of the foods in my mouth, the mix of herbs and spices, savory or sweet, hot or cold, creamy or crunchy, salty or tangy - and the soundtrack snaps on: conversations, laughter, the wistful scrape of a fork on an empty plate, the rustle of the paper at the bakery as the pastry is pulled from the tray, the buzz of fat bees in my ear...

And that's where the seed began to grow.  These memories have gone from rustling to whispering to shouting from the shelves to be heard!  And at the same time, recipes and stories from my roots are bubbling up to the surface.  So I've started digging for more.  And all along, I've been cooking, baking, mixing, tasting and experimenting with wild abandon in the kitchen.  So this blog is a mix of memories - mine and those of my family - woven into recipes, food travels, and other tasteful stories.  I hope it inspires you to share your own food memories and family recipes with those you love.

Eat well-
Molly