Butternut Squash-Zucchini Curry with Couscous or What is Home??

Last summer, when I began to make the first vegetable curries of the season, I was right here in our Colorado house up on the mesa.  I needed a quick dinner and had a bunch of vegetables lying around the counter--including lots of tomatoes.  A pot of rice was put to boil and I threw a bunch of vegetables and a little curry powder into a big skillet.  We ate quite happily very soon thereafter.

DISCLAIMER:  I'll freely admit I'm no authenic Indian cook; check out Just a Girl from Mumbai or The Lady 8 Home (two of my Ina Friday friends' blogs) for authentic recipes.  Or, for a general set of instructions, check out this post. 

Colorado kitchen

Last week, we moved permanently from Saint Paul back to Colorado into the house we've owned there for eight years by now.  To say it was or is a wrench is an understatement, because we love Saint Paul and I so loved my choir job at Prospect Park United Methodist in Minneapolis.  Finances dictated a change to owning one house only and here we are.  I'm still in the midst of figuring it all out and can't believe what an emotional upheaval it's been.  After all, it's just a house--right????

St. Paul backyard

Curried Cauliflower or I Can't Play my Piano

 At Thanksgiving, when cauliflower is so very dear (and it's supposed to still be in season), I'll wish I'd bought a few extra heads in September.  Made a little gratinee with lots of garlic, cream, and Swiss cheese.  Thrown in an extra casserole for Jeanne.  Maybe even made some cauliflower soup--even though it's so very easy and is even good made with frozen cauliflower.  Once in a while I get it all done, but not this year.  The basement freezer isn't bought, though it's on the list (after paying the floor guy and the radiator repair guy) and I expect  it's not too far in the future.  But right now, we're eating what I cook and not putting much away for the winter. I did sneak a big bag of blueberries into the side-by-side and have a couple of on sale whole chickens (for chicken noodle soup) down in the bottom.

Make-do steamer.

I'm not much for raw cauliflower.  I'm not saying I don't eat it from the raw vegetable platter; I do.  But the mealy, cabbagy sensation isn't what I'm after; it's not my favorite.  But steam it, stew it, boil it, roast it, fry it and I'm all over it.  I don't care if it's a bit crispy or grandma-done; I like it.  This curried dish is a mix of two preparations.  First you  briefly steam it. Next you saute some sliced onions and garlic with curry powder.

Then add the steamed cauliflower..

Stir and cook until quite golden and nearly tender. 

Curried Cauliflower

1 head fresh cauliflower, cleaned, cored, and cut into florets
2T olive oil
1 large onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp curry powder (Penzey's has a great variety; try a couple of different ones.)
Kosher salt, pepper, and ground cayenne (if your curry isn't too hot)

Steam cauliflower in a veggie steamer (or in the microwave) for about seven minutes, until just losing its crispness.  Meantime, in a large skillet, heat oil and saute onions for 3-4 minutes.  Add garlic, curry powder and sprinkle with salt, pepper and ground cayenne, if using.  Add steamed cauliflower and stir well.  Cook over medium heat, stirring often, until cauliflower is nearly tender.  Taste and adjust seasonings.  (To increase cooking speed, add a couple of tablespoons of water to the skillet and cover for a  minute or two.)  Serve hot.

---------------------

At least that's what I did.  And walked the five steps to the dining room to eat it paired with a little steak Dave and I had.  That's as far as we can go because the couch is in the dining room, too, due to floor repair and refinishing in the living room.  Where the piano is.

Can't get to the piano.  Or the bedrooms.  Or the front door.

You could call it cozy.

If I climb over the couch, and land in the perfect place, I can quickly scoot over and land on the piano bench.  If.  I haven't tried it.  If we didn't have dogs, we would be able to walk through the living room tomorrow.  If. But we do have dogs, so we're waiting until Wednesday.  Sleeping in the basement where we can watch tv lying in our great (no, really, it is) sofa bed.

Next they're tearing up the kitchen floor (6 layers?) down to the sub floor in order to lay a new wood floor.  And, yes, the stove and frig must come out for a two week period.  Ought to be interesting in our dining room; that's where they'll go.  I love fixing up old houses, don't you?

Two-Dog Kitchen and Around the 'Hood

Came home Friday to find Alvin running around the kitchen....

                          He jumped up in the window and I closed him in there.  Quick thinking, huh?   The floor guy, aka Bob,  had left the door open.  This chipmunk, aka Alvin, has been in our yard all summer, eating the painter's lunches and jumping out into the path, scaring the crap out of us.  Our painter and friend, Chris, kept telling us that chipmunk was too smart for his own good and was going to get in the house.  We laughed.  Until Friday.

Still, all was well.  We finally snuck open the bottom of the window, pushed the screen out, reclosed the window and went around outside to pull the screen out and watch him fly through the air into the still-blooming (really) day lilies.  None the worse for wear, he yelled as he passed my head, "Just wanted to see what you'd done with the house."

Still picking flowers from our yard.

Snuggin'

Not quite the last rose of summer, but nearly.

Meantime, come sing your heart out at Prospect Park United Methodist over in Minneapolis.  We worship at 9:30 am and have coffee and then Sunday School after that.  Wander over and see what we're up to next Saturday, October 1 at 7pm when we present "Pops and Pies," a toe-tappin' evening of music followed by scrumptious pie and, of course, coffee...

Pie, me oh my:  I love pie.

Sing a new song,
Alyce

Pasta with Eggplant and Pancetta

What's in your frig?  Make pasta for a cool fall evening.  Pancetta helps.

We lived for four years in Dayton, Ohio.  How at home I felt there.  The flora and fauna welcomed me warmly (and coldly) as, indeed, the atmosphere felt just like northern Illinois where I grew up.  The summers were wilting (and our air conditioning never worked right) and the winters were damned cold.  Gray.  A long period of waiting for spring was how some approached it.  I felt differently.  I adore late fall; Thanksgiving is my favorite season.  I'm entranced with Advent and greet it positively every year, knowing my walk to the stable will be a new one.  Again.

But, in Ohio, summer seemed to disappear without a trace one wet day in October.  It happened in such a way that a week or two later, you wondered what had happened.  There were weeks of cool, sunny times and God's great leaves flying.  Lovely Saturdays at the farm watching cider being pressed.  Nights on hayrides with bonfires later for hot dogs.  A morning you dug out the sweaters.  Any time, though, an 80 degree day could still pop up.  Really.  And then, one day on the way to work, you knew that day wasn't appearing.  At all.  Anymore.  It had been raining for a week or two, getting colder all the time.  It just rained itself right into winter.  And gray it was.

We're on the edge of that here.  Mostly the days are still perfect.  A light sweater or short jacket needed sometimes.  Flowers still in bloom---somewhat.  The yard is drooping mightily, though, and the window boxes have definitely seen better days.  I broke down and bought mums and pansies, but haven't gotten them all out yet.  And, truthfully, taking care of the yard (and watering) is beginning to seem like yesterday's diapers.  But today it's rainy and there's no sun.  At all.  Gabby still has her head hanging out by the window in case that German Shepherd or Black Lab has the nerve to walk by on the sidewalk.  But soon she gives up and puts her head down on the rug near my chair.  The other doggies are staying home more these days.

The oven can stay on for bread now.

What will I do with these?

Why does it have to rain, Mom?

Droop.

 A bunch of green tomatoes appeared on the back porch from the gardening neighbor.  We won't have enough sun or heat to ripen them.   I go around turning lights on during the day.  Think of making a big pot of beef vegetable soup.  Planned activities are a girls' night at Scusi and then out to a movie.  Not a picnic or outdoor concert or backyard cook-out.  This morning I ordered a long down coat and tall, warm boots.  I'm looking for a freezer so I can make Christmas cookies ahead for Drop in and Decorate.  We're getting our floors redone before snow flies.  That's what time it is.

 

Oh, we're not at the point of storing the patio furniture.   Or of skipping Saturday breakfast on the porch.  But it's coming.  And I've just woken up to it.  I still get up and put on capris and flip flops.  Sometimes I change.  Not always.

Last night, it was cold enough for a filling and warm dinner of whatever's in frig for pasta.  I occasionally blog these instant meals (and lately I'm doing it often) because that's how so many of us have to eat.  If we can even get THAT much cooked.  I have friends who are happy to have time to pull out cheese, apples, and crackers because that's all there's time or energy for.  But listen, 15-20 minutes will give you this admirable and filling meal.  You'll be busy the whole time, but you can put on Vivaldi while you do it and you'll definitely have time to set the table in a welcoming way.
 

Well maybe not quite like this, but why not set an attractive table?

 If you must (and who knows?), throw all of the vegetables in the food processor (except the tomatoes) and get it done even faster.  (Note:  I keep chopped pancetta on my freezer door all of the time.  There's almost nothing it won't do.  And, yes, a bit of American bacon will work.)

As this is more a method than a recipe, I write it in steps.  Read it through to understand the process and then make it yourself.  Boil the pasta, fry the pancetta (or bacon or ham), add vegetables, garlic and herbs, put it together and serve with cheese.  So there.  Maybe you need read no further.  But go on.

Pasta with Eggplant and Pancetta  serves 2  generously with a bit leftover for someone's lunch

1.  Put a covered 10 quart stockpot 3/4 full of salted and peppered water on to boil. Sprinkle with a pinch of crushed red pepper and dried oregano.  Add  1/2 # whole wheat pasta when the water is boiling and cook about 10-11 minutes until al dente.  Drain and reserve.
2.  Meantime, in a large, deep skillet, brown about 1/4 cup of chopped pancetta or bacon.  When it's crisp, remove it to a plate lined with paper towels.   Leave fat from pancetta in the pan.
3.  Into that same pan, add 1 large chopped onion, 1 large chopped carrot, 1 chopped medium yellow squash or zucchini, 1/2 cup chopped, peeled eggplant, 1/2 sliced or whole fresh spinach leaves,  and 1/2 cup chopped red or yellow pepper.  Sprinkle with 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt (or more to taste) and 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper.  Vegetables can be changed to suit what's in your crisper.  I do think you need onions, garlic, something for bulk like squash or eggplant, and fresh herbs of some sort.
4.  Cook vegetables until they're softened and add 3 cloves garlic, minced.  Stir and cook for 1-2 minutes.  Add 2 chopped ripe tomatoes (or a cup of cherry tomatoes) and 1/4 cup chopped parsley and/or basil.  Sprinkle with 1 teaspoon dried oregano and 1/4 tsp crushed red pepper.  Return pancetta to the pan and stir well. 
5. Add drained pasta to skillet.  Mix and toss well, using tongs, and taste for seasoning.
6. Serve in pasta bowls with grated  Parmesan or Romano cheese at the table.

Wine:  We had a little Barbera leftover from burgers on the grill, so we drank that.  A big Chardonnay would work, as would Zinfandel or even a Cabernet Sauvignon.  While we think of big reds as the province of big meats, they stand up and support a hearty, vegetable-filled pasta--especially if it's topped with a strong cheese like Parmesan or flavored with a warm, deep meat like pancetta.

Two-Dog Kitchen and Around the 'Hood

The singing fellowship:

Choir came to lunch Saturday.  Chicken chili, sangria, brownies.

Good bud Kim all but moved in to the kitchen to keep things going.  Love you, Kim!

Nope, we didn't sing.  Just visited and ate.  Rested our pipes.

Fall--Time for Grooming.   Didn't much like it.  But they looked good for the choir.

Exhausted after their baths and trims.  What did we have to do that for? And what's with the bandanas?

 My life is currently full of playing catch-up at work.  Reading all the fall lectionary texts so I can choose appropriate music.  Off and on for a couple of weeks, the dining room table is full of music, bibles, notes, computer, etc.  I run back and forth trying to familiarize myself with the music library at church.  What's there?  What's possible to learn (and do well) with only two rehearsals?  Listening to anthems online. Listening to the choir.  Attending one lectionary study at Cabrini Catholic church  and one Bible Study with the neighborhood women.  Praying for a co-worker, who had to undergo emergency surgery.  Looking at a choir retreat in November.  Dreaming of the cantata much later than I typically do.  And I'm sooo excited and...

 I'm so busy ...  Being grateful, grateful, grateful for the opportunity.  Thanks, God.

Sing a new song,
Alyce

Chicken, Chicken, Chicken or It's Still Hot Around Here

 

Don't know what to do with chicken?  How about cook it?

I simply don't know how to do anything without doing it with all my heart.  In fact, I don't.  Unless it's washing sheets (yes, I'll do it today), cleaning the stairs (twice a week with golden retrievers), driving through construction (not on googlemaps, of course), going to the DMV, shopping for a pair of black pants at Macy's (How many places could black pants be and how much should I pay?), or picking up the trash folks leave in my yard (the price for living in the city.)  I mean, boredom or even half-heartedness is not interesting and I don't learn or grow from it.  Thriving on change is a good way to live.  Especially since change is the way things are.  The new normal.  Change, in fact, is the status quo.  Hmm.

So when I look at the stack of chickens in my freezer (Book club friend's husband has a tie to great organic, free-range poultry and the order just came a couple of weeks ago.) and go, "Oh, no!" I rear my head in disappointment at myself and begin dreaming chicken.

With tomatoes
With pasta
In the oven
On the grill
On potatoes
Poulet au vin blanc (chicken with white wine)
In soup
Con poblanos  (with green chiles)
Next to asparagus
For sandwiches
TACOS!!
In the crock pot
Snuggled up in noodles, celery, and onions

In a world where the hungry numbered 925 million in 2010, I am embarrassed that how I cook chicken is even a topic.  I do indulge myself on this blog, however, and go on after breathing deeply.

The other night, I just couldn't come up with anything terribly new and entertaining for chicken (in the summer) and just began throwing the parts into the pan.  They'd get done, wouldn't they?  We'd eat, wouldn't we?  But, wait:  first the parts should be seasoned very well with salt and pepper.  (Leaving out an entrancing snout-full of pepper is what people often do with chicken.  And it's pale and insipid and oh, you fill in the blank.  Same for salt.  Poultry HAS to be well-seasoned, whatever you choose to do it with.  Particularly if you're eating it as is or the poultry is of the very inexpensive sort.)   And, oh, let's roll into the pan some fragrant olive oil if we're just cooking it any which old way.

As this what-the-hell supper began to cook, here's what it looked like:

You know the drill; you have the picture.   Well, I don't know what you do with yours, but I'm not standing there watching chicken cook.  I had other fish to fry.  (Right.)  After it browned well on both sides (a good 5-7 minutes each side over medium-high heat), I threw that sucker in the oven to finish cooking for another 20-25 minutes or so:

And wondered what else was for dinner.  Just like you.  A quick bang of the pantry and frig doors showed pasta, rice, capers, carrots, yellow squash, celery, lemon, and feta.  On the counter were onions and garlic because in Alyce's kitchen, God (and a gardening neighbor) is good and those things are always there.  A glass full of basil sat at the sink.  Mint's in a pot next to the tub of rosemary (that needed water so badly it looked like a Christmas tree in January) outside my backdoor.  And because there's a difference between eating and enjoying the meal with my husband, I began to grab pots, knives, cutting board, and so on.  It soon appeared that an orzo salad was coming together as orzo cooks quickly and is a great home for savory and piquant additions.  And oh how I love olives! with orzo and feta.  No olives, though, more's the pity.  Capers would have to suffice unless I wanted to sprint to the store during rush hour.  Probably not.  Before the chicken was done, the salad was ready:

So you have the idea of the chicken.   Season well, brown throughly on both sides, and finish in a moderate (350 F) oven until quite browned and juices run clear or thermometer registers 165 F.  Unsure about temperatures, read the USDA guidelines--very simple.  While the chicken is in the oven, cook the orzo and chop the veg and cheese.  While this chicken with an orzo salad isn't an instant meal, it's fairly quick and hits the major food groups in a tasty way.  And, hey!   There would be leftovers for lunch.  Yum leftovers.  Who isn't, after all that, glad to reach in the frig and pull out a piece of chicken come noon?

Take the time to season this baby (the orzo salad) lovingly.  It takes a bit of thought, and trial/error, but you can go from "Yeah, that's ok" to "Wow!" with attention, care, and a bit of knowledge.  Generally the wow factor comes from one of these:

The best ingredients you can find
Thorough, but not over-seasoning
Not over-cooking
Use fresh herbs (usually at the very end before serving)
Appropriate addition of acid (in this case lemon juice)

If you're unsure, take a small portion, add the questionable ingredient and try it.  See if that's going to make the difference.  Take three small portions and try three techniques...which do you like?  You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by this process. So here's how I did it this time:

Alyce's Orzo Salad on That Day (amounts are approximate)   Serves 4 (as does a whole chicken)

1 cup uncooked orzo
1/2 cup each chopped finely diced carrots or cucumber,  and yellow squash
1/4 cup chopped celery 
2 cloves garlic smashed and finely minced (or more to taste)
2T minced red onion
2T ea chopped fresh mint and basil
1/4 c chopped fresh parsley
Pinch of oregano
1T capers (or a small handful of chopped kalamata olives)
1/2 t grated lemon zest
Kosher salt and pepper to taste (try just a bit of salt at first as capers and feta are salty)
Big pinch of crushed red pepper
1T white or red wine vinegar
3T extra virgin olive oil, divided (You'll use some to flavor the hot orzo and some later for dressing.)
Juice of half a lemon
Optional:  Top with 1/2 cup chopped tomatoes and a sprinkle of pine nuts or toasted chopped walnuts

Directions:

1. Cook orzo according to package directions and drain well.  Pour the orzo into a mixing bowl and stir in 1 T of the olive oil.  Sprinkle with just a pinch of salt and pepper.
2. Add vegetables (including garlic and onions), feta, herbs, oregano, capers or olives, and lemon zest.  Stir well.
3. Add salt, pepper, and crushed red pepper.  Taste and reseason.
4. Sprinkle with vinegar and stir. Drizzle in other two tablespoons of olive oil and stir again.  Add tomatoes and nuts, if using.  Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.
5. Squeeze lemon over all.
6. Serve warm, at room temperature, or cold.  Store leftovers in refrigerator, tightly covered, for 2-3 days.

Another cook might have added finely chopped fennel, marinated artichokes, green peppers, jicama....and so on.  

Two-Dog Kitchen and Around the 'Hood

 
It isn't quite the last rose of summer (above), but there are moments, despite the heat, that I want to run to each flower and smell each one up close while I can.  I bravely planted some new things last week near the perennial hibiscus in my corner garden.  I'll show you when they bloom.  (Please bloom.)

What else I'm cooking: 

       I'm considering some new recipes for those who are in the healing process or need softer meals:
  

A lovely butternut (and other) squash soup with thyme for garnish.

 A healthier, chock-full of stuff zucchini bread is in the works and you'll read about it here first.

Whole wheat zucchini bread with dried cherries, raisins, nuts and bits of dark chocolate for your heart.

 About the house:

And will it look like this again?  Guess so.

  I am finally getting my house to make sense nearly three months after the moving truck arrived.  While the kitchen, bedrooms and dining room quickly fell into place (though bedding and tablecloths still seem to be in short supply), the living room defied taming.  A small, but pleasant light teal room that has a 3-season porch attached and boasts a bright, clean piano window (Thanks to my friend, Chris Brown:), it just made me shake my head (read that want to puke) whenever I took the time to look at it.  Now my living room, unlike some, is in constant use.  I often work at home and am at the piano or on the couch (with the good lamp) reading and studying.  I run between the pots in the kitchen to the hymnal on the stand to the computer to write and I need that room to not only be comfortable, but to be feng shuied mighty fine.  I nurse a glass of wine in there while enjoying the  Sunday New York Times sometimes in the evening.   (I never get it done on Sundays.)  I sit and read while Dave naps with his head on my lap.  The dogs have their favorite spot on the wool rug.  To say nothing of sharing a cup of coffee with a friend.   But the room had its own ideas about itself and it wanted to be tilted in the direction of what appeared to be a huge (it is) piano and a squeezed in sofa with two chairs nearly on top of one another in the corner with a beautiful table that cried, "Get rid of me.  I'm too crowded."  It made my lip curl like Elvis and my brow crease like Bruce Willis when he's in a real tight place.  I said nasty stuff about my furniture.  Talked about paying designers.  Wrote friends who WERE designers. Hemmed and hawed.  (What is hemmed and hawed?)

They aren't concerned about what color the walls are; they just want to be together.  Rightly so.  Love dogs!

 Our physical selves often mimic our emotional or spiritual circumstances and, in this case, it was exactly so.  (Thanks to old friend Rev. Virginia Memmott for knowing that.)  As long as I hithered and thithered and dithered about the move, living in Minnesota , the hot summer, our Colorado house, the need for a job, etc, I couldn't settle down enough to "see" how things had to be.

Living room the day the truck arrived

 One day last week, after receiving word of my new choir director job at Prospect Park United Methodist (Come sing!), I just walked in there, started moving stuff, called Dave down to pound nails in the walls for artwork, and found a way for that room to be arranged that not only made sense, but was downright charming.  After a day or so, I also saw that the light had changed.  The walls were more awake and you could read more easily as the sun was now in its late August position.   No more cave feeling.  And I like it.  And so there, room.  And, while it's still hot outdoors, my eyes fall upon space that is welcoming, comfortable, and full of the things I love.  I didn't have to go buy all new furniture or consign the art; I just had to give myself time to breathe and want the space to work.  Thanks, God.

A bit more welcoming, huh?

 Below:  Late hostas blooming on the east side of the house.  In other places, leaves are falling and the acorns crunch underfoot.  The acorns are even falling on the patio table that sits below a maple tree.  Now there IS an oak tree in the yard next door.  And somehow the acorns are moving from the oak to the maple and falling on us during dinner. 
  

 

Sing a new song,
Alyce

Pagliacci's New York Cheesecake

Pagliacci's New York Cheesecake--Made and photographed this year in St. Paul

I don't double blog.  Or if I do, I do it rarely.

This cake, however, belongs on both blogs.  I've made it for Dave's birthday since l984 and for lots of other occasions since.  In different reincarnations.  Chocolate, pumpkin, toffee, cranberry compote.  You get the idea.

For some reason, the recipe ended up on the Dinner Place blog.  Forgive me.  So if you need the recipe, go here:

More later as you sing a new song,
Alyce

Melissa Clark's Greek Goddess Dip -- Again--for Holiday Fun

Sugar snap peas (blanched), new broccoli, and tiny baby bok choy were fun additions to the usual veggie "platter."

At Super Bowl time a couple of years ago, Melissa Clark, in her NYT Good Appetite column, wrote up a great dip that I immediately made and took to a Super Bowl party.  While I bring many pots of herbs in for the winter, I didn't have the needed parsley, dill, and basil.  (Rosemary, thyme, mint, sage--yes)  Buying plastic packages of herbs mid-winter is tediously expensive, but I did it.  A party.  Special occasion.   I thought at the time, I have to remember to make this in the summer.  Herbs are cheap or growing in the garden and the farmer's market vegetables are luscious.

And here we are.  It's summer.  Friends were coming for the evening.  And I remembered this dip.  Thanks, Melissa!  (If you haven't read her newest solo book, it's full of great recipes and want-more stories.  Wondering what you'll take to the Fourth of July cookout?  Look no further.  Get your sous to cut the veg; you throw the dip in the food processor.   Done.

In October, she's got another (order early) book out:   Cook This Now: 120 Easy and Delectable Dishes You Can't Wait to Make.  


Melissa Clark's Greek Goddess Dip

1/2 cup packed fresh dill

1/2 cup packed fresh mint
1/2 cup packed fresh parsley
1/3 cup packed fresh basil
2 garlic cloves, chopped
2 scallions, white and green parts, sliced
1 1/2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Pinch kosher salt, more to taste
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/2 cup Greek yogurt
1/4 cup mayonnaise, optional
Raw chopped vegetables or pita chips, for serving.


1. Place dill, mint, parsley, basil, garlic, scallions, lemon juice and salt in a food processor and process until finely chopped.
2. With motor running, drizzle in the olive oil until incorporated. Add feta and process until smooth; pulse in yogurt. Taste dip and add more salt, if desired. If you like a creamier, richer dip, add mayonnaise and pulse to combine.
3. Serve dip immediately with vegetables or pita chips or cover and store in refrigerator for up to 3 days.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings.

These are my changes, etc:  Yes to a bit more salt.  I also added a few grounds of freshly ground black pepper, as well as a few drops of Tabasco.  I skipped the mayo to keep it a bit lighter and healthier.   The first time through,  I made my own pita chips--so much better than the ones in the bag.  (Cut up strips of pita bread,  sprayed them wih Pam, sprinkled on sesame seeds/salt/pepper.  Baked for 12 minutes or so in 350 degrees F til brown.)  Note:  If you keep the dip overnight, it thickens. 

This time, I made no pita chips.   The veg from the market was plenty and we had a filling meal ahead.  If you have tons of dill, basil, etc.,  this garlic-filled, spicy herb dip will be your summer staple.  It goes together all in the food processor and you could vary the herbs or leave some out depending on how your garden grows.  Simple, fresh and for Fourth of July?  You're now ready to roll.  Do leave the dip in a bowl of ice (change often) to keep it cool out there.

Two-Dog Kitchen and Around the 'Hood
Just some summer stuff.  Have cooked, but have been busy.  It's all good!

Pasta Primavera with New Peas, Ramps, Leeks, Asparagus, et al or I Guess I'm Home Because the Cream Soups are Unpacked

If you have a yard surrounded by old lilacs, spring is a good time for a dinner party.
And, if it's spring, it's a good time for Pasta Primavera (Spring Pasta).
And, if it's time for Pasta Primavera, it's a good time for pink wine.  French rosé.  Or Oregon rosé.

You needn't be picky about the wine, though it must be dry and young (2010).  It shouldn't cost much--not more than $15 and often much less.  Just make sure you have enough.  A variety of choices would be a kind gesture to both you and your guests.

And if you were really loving that day, you might make an appetizer platter of tapenade and local goat's cheese blended with fresh basil and grated lemon rind.  Some proscuitto and tiny tomatoes make the plate.
The rosé will be quite stunning with that goat's cheese.  Promise.

I'm sold lately on lemon ice cream.  In fact, it's a perfect solution to dessert.

Picture taken later after the ice cream had been in the freezer.

I used a recipe from epicurious. com (Gourmet, 1993), though I didn't use as much sugar.  I thought 2/3 c was plenty and it was.  The brightness and/or sourness of the lemon can easily be overwhelmed by too much sugar. (Click on the purple recipe.)  Note that the mixture must be made ahead, cooked briefly, chilled very well, and have more half and half added right before freezing.


About the Primavera... you could look up twenty recipes for Primavera and they'd all be different, except that they should all have spring vegetables of some sort (leeks, ramps, scallions, peas, asparagus, baby greens, fennel, etc.).  If you go to the farmer's markets now (when you think there'll be nothing), you should find some spring vegetables.  If not, pick up your favorites at the grocery and use those.

A gorgeous fennel bulb..use the fronds for garnish.  There's a core here much like in cabbage.  Cut it out and slice the fennel into half moons.

Fresh pea shoots--leaves, shoots, and tendrils from pea plants.  Yummy greens.

 The basic directions (serves 4) that would include your choice of vegetables  would look like this (and I don't think the Primavera police are out tonight if you want to change the process):

Ramps--quite like scallions