Blog

Back when we all first started staying at home as much as possible, and not knowing how things would go as far as food shopping was concerned, we bought a few vegetables that would last, such as carrots and winter squash, and some frozen vegetables as well.

We really haven’t had any difficulty getting produce, and as a result one butternut squash was still sitting there, along with a pear from my Misfits Market box. So before the weather gets too warm, I decided to make a soup. Any variety of winter squash would work fine in this recipe.

The first time I made this dish for my boys, they tasted it and glared at me. It was the look of annoyance and disbelief that I had never made it for them before! It’s now one of their favorites, a frequent request when they come home to visit.

It’s not a very difficult recipe, but you will want to get sweet Hungarian paprika for it.

My mother and I have recently been discussing some of her mother’s signature recipes. She was wondering about some of the gelatin molds her mother used to make and whether I remembered them at all, or might know how to make them.

Of course that sent me to the small pile of recipes from Nena – what we cousins called our grandmother – but what I have are mostly desserts.

We love salmon, and more often than not, we marinate it in the ginger sesame marinade from Ginger People and grill it outside. Sometimes, however, if it’s raining or snowing, or so bitterly cold that it will take the grill too long to heat up, we decide to Use the oven.

I wanted something that would be as easy as cooking it on the grill, and full of flavor. Eventually I ended up with this simple preparation that takes little time to put together, and then has unattended time in the oven.

As we continue through this strange time, I find myself looking for ways to use random leftover ingredients in the freezer or how to combine various items of produce that look like they are going bad. In my last produce delivery from Misfits Market, I got a zucchini and some mixed mushroom. We had already sketched out a plan for upcoming meals, but I needed to use these items sooner rather than later.

I found a recipe in my old New York Times Cookbook for a baked zucchini and mushroom casserole with sour cream and dill. Not only did I not have any dill, the recipe said to boil the zucchini which just seemed like it would be too wet. Instead I devised a gratin that didn’t water down any of the flavors.

I find it interesting to observe the contradictions we sometimes see in ourselves. I spent the better part of an afternoon making homemade pasta dough, then rolling, filling, forming, and cooking pumpkin cappellacci. And yet, when I make coleslaw, I always buy a bag of the preshredded coleslaw mix at the supermarket!

I’ve been making this version for as long as I can remember, and pretty much every time we are out somewhere and a sandwich comes with coleslaw, Hank will try it (I refuse). And then Hank says, “Not as good as yours.”

Sometimes you read a recipe that just seems so strange, but for some reason you try it anyway. I honestly have no idea why I ever tried cooking broccoli for about an hour, but it’s so good! It seems so counterintuitive when, as a general rule, our food culture has shifted away from boiling vegetables until they are mushy. But the good thing is that by cooking it for a long time you can use the stems that are usually thrown away, so it is an economical recipe.

I hadn’t made it in forever, but I got a bunch of organic broccoli in my Misfits Market box, and decided to see if it was as good as I remembered. If I’m not mistaken, in the past I’ve served it mixed with goat cheese as a spread, and even puréed into a dip. But this time I thought I’d use it as a pasta sauce, almost like a broccoli “pesto.”

It’s always interesting to notice what small moments, what details one remembers. Of course there are all the grand moments, the big events, that carry so much importance in our lives. But sometimes what we recall can be much more mundane.

Cynthia was my best friend in high school and we lived on opposite ends of Bleeker Street in Manhattan, she in Washington Square Village and I at Abingdon Square. How often we would walk from one home to the other, how many sleepovers we had, how much we visited places all over the City, and we even attended summer camp together for one year, after we realized that the camp she had been attending for years, Camp Pinecliffe, was the camp my mother and my aunt had attended when they were kids. I loved it and remember it all fondly!

Is it possible the weather is turning? Will all those showers in April really bring May flowers? The first weekend in May looks to be glorious weather-wise here in the Berkshires, and perhaps we can see that glimmer of summer in the future.

So we decided to take the plunge and use the last container of pesto that was in the freezer from the many batches we made last summer.

Among the items we like to keep in the freezer is a butterflied leg of lamb. Occasionally we will marinate and grill it, but more often we will cut it into 1-inch chunks and make lamb stew. Of course you can buy lamb stew meat instead to make this easier.

We have served this for so many dinner parties, and once I even made it with short ribs when one of our guests said she didn’t like lamb and it was just as good. Whenever I make it, I am always just a little but surprised that it doesn’t have very many ingredients but has so much flavor!

I know so many people have been making sourdough starter these days, unable to buy yeast. I’ve been keeping a sourdough starter in my fridge for several years now, making bread every week or so.

However, I am not making real sourdough bread, like my friend, Rafi, of Hilltown Hot Pies. Most of the time I’m doing what I would call a cheater’s version that doesn’t require nearly as much time and coordination. While it may not have as strong a sour tang, my rosemary version has become our go-to bread of choice.

I’m not sure if it is yet clear to readers of this blog that I love beets! When I first met my husband, he told me he just would never like beets, but I have been able to get him to enjoy them, especially in a few dishes such as my beet risotto and this beet pasta.

I have to say I take it as a challenge when someone says they don’t like a particular ingredient under any circumstances, in any way, shape, or form. There are several things that my step-daughter, Rachel, has said she doesn’t usually like, but has newfound appreciation for the ingredient in one of my recipes.

A long time ago, around the end of college and the beginning of graduate school, I spent three summers working on an archaeology dig in Soissons, France, a small city in Picardie, a little over an hour northeast of Paris, about halfway to the Belgian border. We were excavating the Abbey of St. Jean des Vignes, an Augustinian monastery which had stood on a hill in the town. Over the years most of the stone from the Abbey had been taken or sold, but today the majestic west façade with its two Gothic towers still stands, as do the refectory and two sides of the cloister.

We here in the Berkshires could feel confused that it’s spring. We still have mornings in the 20s and snow furries flying. But a friend told me where I could find ramps, also known as wild leeks, bright green and ready for foraging. Ramps don’t like the heat, and it will soon be past their season, so headed out to gather a dinner’s worth of this spring delicacy.

I decided it was time for a pasta in our dinner rotation, and with plenty of fresh eggs from the farmer we know, I thought the ramps would add nice flavor to a plate of carbonara.

About a gazillion years ago, I spent the fall semester of my senior year in Rome. I studied at the Intercollegiate Center for Classical Studies, at Via Algardi 19, on the Gianicolo, Bus 75 from the center of the city. Known as the Centro, this phenomenal program allows students to spend a semester studying the ancient city both in the classroom and in the field, so to speak. In addition to seeing what seemed like every single ruin in the city proper (although it probably wasn’t), we had field trips to sites outside the city, including a two-week excursion to Sicily and southern Italy.