bootleggers and springrolls

Last night we had the great pleasure of attending the wedding of a dear family friend, Helen. The ceremony was lovely with excellent musical performances from each of her sons, but you can guess where I'm heading with this entry--the reception had stellar food and drinks! Held at the Minikahda club, the event started with drinks and hors d'oeuvres on the upstairs balcony. As we overlooked the gorgeous view of lake Calhoun, we sampled fresh springrolls, cheese and marmalade canapes, avocado toasts, springrolls, cheesetoasts, and some more springrolls. When Chris ordered a Macallan from the bar he was given a juice glass full--what a way to start the evening! The gin and tonics, rum and cokes, and glasses of wine were free-flowing, but the star of the veranda was the bootlegger. I never got a definition of the bootlegger that would satisfy and engineer, but what I gathered in my scientific research was that it included something along the lines of gin, vodka, soda, lemon juice, and mint. It's like a mojito crossed with a long island iced tea and it is dangerously delicious. My mother wasn't sure what she thought of the bootlegger so she had to sample several of them to decide!

People were noticeably hesitant when told to go back inside and find their seats for dinner--why would we want to lose our view or place at the bar?! But grudgingly we went and were pleasantly surprised by the immediate wine service, not to mention places at a table with fun friends and seats near the band. The dinner started with a beautiful homegrown tomato salad with bocconcini (tiny balls of fresh mozzarella), basil oil, shaved radishes, and microgreens with a flavor of anise. It was honestly beautiful, and a perfect combination. I wonder just what homegrown meant, since I didn't see a garden on site with enough tomato plants to feed 200 person banquets every couple nights. I assume they meant local, and I love that concept, though unfortunately it was a bit early in the year for the multi-colored fruit, considering what a cool tomato season we've had so far. The most fun thing on the plate was a tiny, dark green, half-orb with white spots, which I first assumed was just a variety of heirloom tomato I'd never seen before, but it turned out to be a crisp cucumber! I was fastidious about getting a taste of each element on the plate in every bite, and yet I still managed to clean my plate first among my table-mates.

The main dish came next and included a generous halibut fillet encrusted with scallops and lightly drizzled with beurre blanc, seated next to green and yellow beans with baby carrots (the real baby carrots, not just the lathed down excuse for baby carrots found in a pre-packaged bag), and a potato gratin wrapped in brick pastry and topped with some sweet cooked tomatoes. I couldn't remember what brick pastry was when I first read the menu card, but it's much like phyllo--light and flaky and wonderfully crisp when cooked with the right amount of butter! The food was attractive and tasty if a bit overdone and underseasoned. It must be hard to manage perfection at such a high level for such a crowd, though! I don't mean to complain either--I managed to suffer through the plate and even found room for a slice of crusty seeded bread with butter--yum!

Dessert included a small triangle of flourless chocolate cake and a martini class full of fresh berries with lemon curd. It was a great crowdpleaser--even for my mother who stubbornly refuses to like, or even eat, chocolate. I even brought her to Switzerland twice and she won't convert. I know, I don't understand it either. But she felt included in the dessert even if she passed the cake to my dad. She made up for the lack in calorie consumption from cake by imbibing several glasses of champagne instead. Who wouldn't when they serve Veuve Clicquot to everyone!

The party was a hit. We all had a blast, though some maybe aren't enjoying themselves as much today! I always love weddings. And I laughed especially hard when the priest made a joke about what three things a woman sees as she first steps into the church--the aisle, the alter, and him. Not to be confused with the thought "I'll alter him". After sharing in such a beautiful event, I don't think Helen would alter a thing.

long time no sea

We did return from Australia, so why have I disappeared again? Well after we first returned I can safely blame Ella. You simply can't fool a baby into a time change. Especially not a 15 hour time change. She thought it would be fun to stay up eating and playing until after 2 am for days on end, and there was just no convincing her that it would be much more fun to sleep! That really through a wrench into the works. Then we were babysitting for a friend of the family's three kids for a week. That was a fun gig, but it meant being away from home for another week, only two days after we returned. 4th of July was thrown in there too. Then I immediately started teaching a cooking class, which was an absolute blast, but utterly exhausting.

I've been trying to get a cooking class for teens going for years and first I had trouble figuring out exactly how and where I wanted to do it. Then when I decided I wanted to go the community ed route I had trouble convincing people that food actually costs a fair amount of money. This is Minnesota people, food doesn't just grow on trees--at least not most of the year! Then along came West Suburban Summer Schools, the independent school district #287 summer school program for students who qualify for gifted and talented services. I gave it another try and luckily found a closet foodie in the administrative position. Teen Cuisine was finally born! All I had to do was write a curriculum and recipes! Yikes.

I'm not that bad at writing recipes, but I tend to avoid it. It's probably because I'm not a great recipe follower. I certainly can follow one--I know the rules and all--I just generally choose not to. I even used to think I couldn't bake. I didn't like it at all because it meant following recipes. You mess up the measurements in a batch of brownies and you could wind up with hockey pucks--no thanks. But one of the most valuable lessons I learned in culinary school was from the infamous Chef Michelle Gayer of the Salty Tart. She taught me the secret of flavor infusions. They are the answer to personalizing recipes in the pastry kitchen without altering a formula that works. Woohoo! I now LOVE baking. But I digress, we'll return to pastries later.

I decided that there was no way a student could learn how to make real food in the kitchen without using real knives. That is a terrifying thought to anyone who has ever worked in a public school, particularly at the middle school level. We are trained to think of knives in the hands of 8th graders as a dangerous thing, and for good reason I'd say, but I was adamant that they be allowed in my class. The only problem was that the kitchen classroom that we were using didn't seem to have any. Okay, I don't mind bringing mine from home, but that just adds more liability concerns. Here is where the support, or ignorance, of my supervisors definitely came in handy. We just got parents to sign waivers and away we cut! There are few greater ways to show your trust in a 13 year old than to hand them a recipe, a bag of groceries, and a 12 inch Santoku. It truly paid off too. I was thoroughly impressed with their excitement and enthusiasm as well as their quick grasp of new skills. We made about 25 recipes during the week long class, some multiple times, and they became quite fluent throughout the process.

I did learn about a weakness of mine, though. I have become intolerant of people who refuse to taste new foods. I know I used to do that myself, before I became a born-again-eater, and I cringe at the thought. I must now officially apologize to anyone reading this who may have once cooked food for me that I refused to eat, complained about, or made a face at. Why didn't you just throw me out? It is a repulsive personality characteristic that I have a very tough time accepting in people--including my past self. This is not to say that I like all foods equally. Personally I think broccoli only redeems is existence through its nutritional value. Liver, excepting foie grois, tastes just like sucking on a cut finger or a penny. I just don't fancy that metallic quality. But at least I've tried them! I can say these things through experience. And I can also safely say that I will graciously accept them if they are served to me again. Cooking is about sharing love. It is about giving and accepting personal gestures. It is about making people feel good. I hope I got that across in my class. And I hope I get a chance to teach it again--it's the best way to learn.

Here's a favorite recipe of mine--just to share some love with my readers. Semifreddo means "half cold" in Italian and is a simple ice cream that requires no churning. You can find gazillions of different recipes for it, but this is one of my favorites, as well as one of the simplest. Sabayonne is a traditional French dessert--a warm custard, which forms the base of this semifreddo. Any alcohol can be used, so don't be afraid--get creative!

Sabayonne Semifreddo

Serves 4-5

Ingredients:

2 egg yolks

2 oz. alcohol, such as white wine, champagne, marsala, etc.

2 oz. sugar

1 pint heavy cream

Directions:

Over low heat, or a simmering pot of water, whisk together egg yolks, alcohol, and sugar until they form a custard (the mixture should foam and expand, then thicken until it coats the back of a wooden spoon). Be careful not to let the eggs scramble, or curdle along the edges of the bowl. This is your sabayonne. Meanwhile, whip cream until it forms soft peaks. Fold together sabayonne and whipped cream. Transfer to individual molds and freeze until stiff (depending on your containers and the freezer, this part could take anywhere from 45 minutes to overnight). I suggest trying it on yourself before you make it for guests, so you can you make sure it's safe! When you do serve it, throw on some fresh berries--something we do manage to grow very well here in Minnesota--and enjoy!

Even Ella loves ice cream--and sharing it!

Love, Emily

cheerios

As we walked through the local grocery store in nearby Gympie my mother suddenly attacked me from behind saying, "here, take your daughter and her cheerio." It sounds harmless enough, but a cheerio in Aussieland is not a small oaty cereal, but rather a cocktail weenie stuffed into kool-aid red casing. num num. Well, Ella thought so, but my mother wasn't too thrilled with the idea of Ella devouring a cold sausage over her shoulder. Oh the things we learn when we travel.

My mom is slowly losing the deer-in-headlights look about her, and warming up to the pace of life here. We're now at David's house, by the way, which is in the clouds, literally. David is Chris's dad who bought 66 acres in the sunshine coast hinterland along with a beautiful, though quirky house; an "American barn" which doesn't seem remotely American to me, the silly American in town; a pool, though it's mostly empty apart from the goannas; a pond, or dam as they call ponds here; a small gum tree plantation; and any number of native critters. The daily routine here involves checking the water level on the multiple tanks that catch rain-water, starting a fire inside for warmth, starting a fire outside for fun, taking a walk down the driveway which doubles as a rally car race track, taking a bath or shower after the trek back up, checking the water level again, walking up the 4-wheel drive track to the bush lemon tree and the peak of the property (I must admit the lemon tree might be more enticing to me), having a drink, having another shower, checking the water levels again, having another drink by the fire, and going to bed. My mom and Chris get a little antsy, but personally I love the view of the macadamia plantation below us, just beyond the clay stove on the deck. I don't mind just sitting there and staring out for hours on end, so I guess it works for me up here, at least while I'm on holiday.

***

Okay, we just ate dinner, hence the *** interlude. I've also had a couple gin and tonics and several glasses of superb Australian Shiraz, so things might start to get a little hazy at this point. In fact, instead of writing any more, I think I will simply leave you with a few choice pics from the last couple days up here in hinterland and hope you might feel a touch of the sublime life that is lived here.

the view from the front deck of "The Moore Hilton: Hinterland Abode" (the dark trees in the middle are the macadamia plantation belonging to one of his neighbors)

even the kangaroos are cheeky here

Chris got tired at the beach, but luckily Ella came to his rescue

Chris is being silly and telling me that actually that's not the beach, it's the river. Hello, the water there is still salty. We still ate fish and chips there. There are still scary animals everywhere! It's totally the beach. Doesn't he know anything about this place?

woolamaboolama

Obviously I've been MIA for a while. Sometimes I feel bad about it, because I shouldn't have started this project if I couldn't have kept it up, right? But I do want to do this. I want to write. I want to find my voice, and learn how to project it. I just have a hard time saying no, that's the problem. Well, when it comes to anything that sounds like fun at least. Should we go for a drive? Yes. Should we play in the garden? Yes. Should we have a gin and tonic? Yes. Should I stop doing all of that and lock myself inside in front of a glowing box which constantly demands me to think? Gee, that doesn't sound like fun! Maybe if we got a router and I could play on the computer outside, maybe that would motivate me. We only just got internet about a year ago though, so I better not get ahead of myself here! I've already got a blog people, I'm climbing a steep learning curve! Oh well, I'm here again, so you know I'm not ready to give up yet.

Actually, I have been very busy. The end of the school year is always riddled with chaos, and on top of that, two days after it finished we hopped on a plane for 30ish hours of fun with a 14 month old. Chris, being from Australia, has lots of family in Australia. Actually all his family is in Australia. Chris's parents hadn't even met Ella yet. So we packed up her, a bag of diapers, several sippy-cups of milk, and my mother, to venture around the globe for a month of fun. And here I am now, coming to you live from the Sunshine Coast of Queensland.

It's winter here, but the funny thing is that it's pretty much the same as Minnesota weather at the moment, except sunnier. My mother keeps saying that all she needs is the beach, the veranda, and a beverage. The fact that we've been to the beach every day should tell you how awful it is in the miserable miserable place. Ella has decided that the waves are scary, but all she needs is the soft sand and some sunnies and she'll be 'right. Sarvo we ate snags and bickies while pushing Ella in the pram after a nap in the cot...oh sorry, you don't actually know what I'm talking about, do you? Welcome to my world.

Woolamaboolama is actually a nonsense word I made up when I was trying to remember the name of an Aussie town many years ago. All the names here have as many double letters, usually including at least one set of double o's, as possible, so it's not even that far fetched. Here are a couple examples of real towns in the immediate vicinity of our current location on the Sunny Coast.


Noosa.
Coolum.
Caboolture.
Maroochydore.
Mooloolaba.

See what I mean?



Here's the real shocker--my baby has become a Vegemite kid. Chris nearly included a line in our wedding vows requiring me to promise that I would always allow, if not encourage, our children to eat Vegemite. I fully agreed, as I have no concerns with it other than the fact that it tastes like concentrated bullion paste. Who wouldn't want that smeared over toast, honestly? I'll admit there are worse things in the world, though I'll tell you I didn't foresee the potency of the Vegemite diapers. Oh well. It happens to be "One of the world's richest known sources of Vitamin B", which one specifically I don't know, but it sounds healthy, that's for sure. Australians are big on winning national and even international competitions, so maybe I should be skeptical actually. There are bakeries on every corner here claiming to have the countries best meat pies. And I know you've been dying to eat meat pies coated in Vegemite! Seriously, if I hadn't given birth to Ella, you'd wouldn't know she was my kid, yet anyone off the street can glance in her direction and know she's Chris's. Too funny. In all seriousness though, I love that she looks like Chris, acts like Chris, eats like Chris, and is absolutely adorable, just like Chris. And if she winds up with his legs, that's a bonus. I wish Chris's family could spend time with her (and us) more often, but while it may not be a great quantity, there's no doubt that the time we're spending here now is quality. Let's just hope Ella doesn't end up with Chris's hair!


Ella and her gorgeous Gramdma, Dianne, in the hammock on the veranda

the easy gourmet

My mother always tells me never to say I'm easy.  But sometimes I can't help it.  I like things to be easy.  Don't get me wrong--I love a challenge.  But, there's something to be said for having a favorite sweater you can always throw on and feel comfortable and attractive in.  That's easy.  I also find I take the "easy" route when making dinner lately.  Pretty much ever since Ella became independently mobile.  If it's not easy, we'll wind up ordering pizza or eating way too much ice cream.  (Sometimes that happens anyway.)  Easy doesn't have to be boring, though.  Here are a few of my favorite sweaters I like to throw on in the kitchen, so to speak.  

Fresh greens with homemade salad dressing.  When I lived in Switzerland, my grandfather's cousin taught me how to make her signature vinaigrette.  I find it hard to match the ingredients exactly in the U.S., but with some tweaking, I've come up with an easy and delicious facsimile.  I whisk it into a bowl, pour any extra into a jar for later, then toss the greens in--voila!  Mache is my favorite green of late, or anything else fresh from the garden.  The key is in the vinegar. Trust me.  This salad works as a side dish, a topping or a main.  You can add anything you want to the salad and make it an entire meal too.  Go for some roasted chicken, mango, avocado and cashews.  So delicious.

Swiss dressing

kosher salt and fresh ground pepper, to taste

a few dashes of Maggi

1/2 t. dijon mustard

2 T. raw, unfiltered cider vinegar (such as Bragg's)

whisk first four ingredients together until frothy

3 T. olive oil

2-3 T. canola oil

slowly whisk oil into vinegar mixture until emulsified

Stir fry.  I know, it sounds lame, but when I discovered the fresh stir fry noodles in the produce section at Lunds, I was hooked.  I used to be a rice girl...not anymore.  I can't get enough of these.  They're cheap, and easy!!  What a combo.  I never use the seasoning packet, but with fresh garlic and ginger, you can make a killer sauce in a no time flat.  I love to add edamame and shitakes.  It's all about the right fresh ingredients adding real flavor.  Never buy baby carrots in a bag.  They're tough and slimy.  In fact, they're often just large carrots that have been lathed down to a tough core.  Organic carrots with green tops are cheaper and taste roughly a thousand times better.  I'm not making this up people.  You won't be sorry.  Oh, and pepper.  Use lots of pepper.

I would write more now, but I just realized dinner is ready.  Chris got off early tonight and ismaking it.  That's the best, and easiest meal there is!  Tell me what you like, and I'll find some good recipes that fit.  What's in your garden?  Do you have anything in your kitchen you don't know how to use?  Just ask...I do love that kind of challenge!!!

go buffs!

Remember when I mentioned our million or so tomato seedlings? Well this weekend we dug into the garden and got them going. Ella helped a lot by riding in the wheelbarrow and digging in the dirt.

We sowed 30 plants ourselves, gave 20 to my parents, gave 40 or 50 to my friend Cassandra and still have gazillions left, roughly. I am so excited about them I can't wait. I think our next door neighbors can wait though, since they like yards to contain only beautiful things, and we like our yard to contain mostly edible things. It doesn't help that the only strong sun we get is in the front, so that's where the tomato plants found a home. But get this, we planted five different heirloom varieties. The Carbon tomato, and purply-red variety; Dad's Sunset, a bright orange one; the Great White, which supposedly has a tropical, guava-like flavor; the good old Red Grape; and the one I'm most excited about--the Beauty King, a large striped type. Oh yum. I can practically taste the caprese salads right now. I can just see the sandwiches, the salads, the salsas, the snacks and more. And those are just the tomatoes. We also planted orange bell peppers, chocolate bell peppers (they sounded way too interesting to pass up), zucchini, lady finger carrots, st. valery carrots, fennel, fava beans, soy beans, mache, mesclun salad greens, beets, silverbeet, and peas. Later this summer we'll plant sugar-snap peas and brussels sprouts too. And Cassandra's mom graciously agreed to donate her canning supplies to Cassandra, which I know we'll also benefit from!!! Oh heaven. I know veggies don't get everyone excited, but I can't help it. Living through our frigid winters when no fresh produce at the grocery store is actually very fresh, and certainly not local, I just can't wait to stop using Centrum to get my phytonutrients.

yikes

I am so woefully behind on my blog that it's getting to the point when I ponder "fold laundry and drink a gin and tonic, or blog?" The sad thing is, I'd usually rather fold laundry! Work has hit high gear lately; it always does at this time of the year. Concert season, recruiting season, spring-itis season. I would apologize for not writing more often, but at this point, I don't think anyone regularly follows my blog, so I guess it is just an exercise to keep me writing. I even have to prompt my husband to visit the blog. Oh dear. Can I use the word woeful more than once in the same blog? Speaking of which, do you ever find that certain people have certain words? I love that my Fargoian friend, Cassandra, uses the expression "hosed-up" for anything that's gone awry. It does bug me a bit that she pronounces harass like "hair-iss," and bison like "bizon." I guess it helps though that she says them that way with such conviction. And it doesn't hurt that she drives me to work a lot and often buys me brownies. Oh yeah, did I mention that I love Cassandra?

When he first moved to America, Chris used the word "pedantic" all the time. I mean, he couldn't go six hours without using it. I can't even think of an example of how he used it. He just did--all the time. It was funny to me, since I had probably never spoken the word before meeting him. I would chuckle every time he said it, and now I miss the fact that he's given up one of his favorite words. Maybe he stopped using it because the kids he taught didn't understand it--yeah, let's go with that theory.

Now I'm trying to think what my word is. I once wrote an essay on the fact that I lack obsessions and felt bad about it. I am deeply enthusiastic about many things, but I don't obsess. I don't realize I love goat cheese and then decide to buy a different kind every time I go to the grocery store. I don't wash my sheets every Friday night. I don't even have to sleep on the same side of the bed, though I do prefer whichever side is closest to the bathroom. I don't work out very often, or very hard. I don't care about cars. Man, I'm starting sound boring! I bet I have favorite words or expressions though. So, if anyone who knows me is reading this--what are they? I'd love to know! Thanks.