It's a new dawn, a new day, and I'm feeling good!

Well, it's been a long time coming.  I last posted in April when my daughter turned seventeen.  After that momentus day of remembering when my life changed forever with my first born, I started to deviate from entering new posts.  Perhaps you could say I lost interest. 

I kept telling myself that I didn't want to focus on food all of the time.  I love the memories I have with food, but I also felt that I had much more to say than sharing those memories.  I wanted to share life.  I wanted to share the breaths that make my days; whether good or bad, short post, or long. I also still wanted to share with you my love of food and writing about it and savoring each bite. 

Coming up with a name was interesting.  What was taken?  What wasn't?  How do I change the name of my blog without losing material? The endless list that I kept recreating over the summer months seemed to get bigger and bigger. Then it narrowed.  With the help of family--"Does this sound better?" "What about this?" Tonight Gmail told me I had to create another blog using this new title.  Then the wonderful Blogger Help Page came to my rescue.  I followed the instructions letter by letter.

Now here we are. 

If you subscribe to the blog, then you will know what's going on.  If you don't, hopefully you will find me through Twitter or eventually Facebook when I decide to reactivate my account again.  I think this time I have more confidence in my writing and will freely share there. 

So, stay tuned for more. Still some things to tweak. There will be more ahead.  I promise.

With gratitude,
Kathy

Seventeen

The big 1-7.  Erin Elizabeth, you were born on a Tuesday morning at 7:55 a.m.  Today is a Tuesday, and , at that very moment, I smiled, and my heart grew more today.  I love that about being a parent.  Each and every day, my heart grows just a bit more.  Last night, for instance, you and I were having a conversation, and I was explaining my side of a story and my perspective on things. The beauty of that conversation was that you said right back, "Oh, I can definitely see how you would feel that way."  That is a gift, my Erin.  You can see both sides of an argument, mull it over in your brain, and validate how someone else might be feeling.  That kind of emotional intelligence will take you so far in your life, and in all relationships you encounter. I was so proud of you at that moment, I wanted to burst.  I'm glad I had the opportunity to tell you that before you turned in for the night.

Today, you are 17.  Just returning from Europe, all caught up on sleep, and returning to the world of school that will keep you busy until the end of the school year.  My last post was about you too.  I haven't written in awhile, yet, I am grateful for the inspiration that you are giving me today.

You are my first born.  You are the one that I tried everything out on to see if there would be success or failure.  The trials and errors of being a parent.  I loved being a stay at home Mom with you.  Oh, we had so much fun, the two of us.  Despite a not so great pregnancy--the first 20 weeks, anyway, and your makeup of needing to be colicky for the first three months even had it's rewards;  you slept through the night at 6 weeks and were the most pleasant baby with facial expressions I can still see in my mind today.

I love the young woman you have become.  You are creative, intelligent, have wonderful common sense, and you love to learn.  How many 17 year teenager's, approaching their senior year of high school, want a full schedule even though you don't have to have one!  I love that about you.  You take chances.  You risk.  You try.  You fail.  You pick yourself up again.  You move forward.  You make great choices of friends that you will know all of your life. You are THE best bargain shopper I know.  You write beautifully and have an eye for photography that whether your vocation or avocation, you will always have that within you.

I love how you love your brother, despite the usual grumblings of sibling rivalry.  How when he was younger you always made him feel safe and was like a little mother to him.  I love the nurturing side of you.  Whether your brother or any child, you are wonderful with children.  It is evident in how they respond to you.

On this day, and everyday, my Erin, I think about what a blessing you are to me and to our family.  You are independent, and your own person, yet needing comfort just like anyone else. When I heard the Dr. say, "I knew it was a girl.", we were scared, surprised, and filled with joy.  You paved the way and allowed me to grow as a parent. 

I will continue to welcome you to this world everyday.  Even when we traveled and forgot the CD of Nicolette Larson singing "Welcome to the World", I would start to sing it, and the familiar tune would lull you to sleep.  Those moments are for a parent to cherish, yet made you such a happy baby.

Happy Birthday, my wonderful daughter.

Thank you for being.  Thank you for giving all of us life!

I love you with all of my heart.

Mom

Planes, a Train, a Bus, and More Planes

Today the weather in Paris, France is 61 degrees.  It will be sunny and on Sunday it's expected to be in the 70's.  Why this interest in European weather, you might be asking yourself?  Read on.

On Wednesday, April 13th, my daughter, along with her three best friends, and countless others from her high school and one other local Rochester school, departed Rochester en route to JFK Airport in NYC, then onto London, Paris and Barcelona; all over the course of 8 days. 

So, today, and everyday, I've been checking the weather.  In fact, I'm even obsessive and checking the weather where her next city will be.  Yesterday London.  Today Paris.  Tomorrow, a little hint of what Barcelona will be like upon her arrival. 

I'm really happy for my daughter.  She gets to spread her wings and not only fly internationally, but will be able to fly sans parental voices in her ear, and explore, breath in the pastries, and all of the surroundings that will make up this whirlwind of a trip. 

The thing is, I miss her.  I miss my daily hugs and smooches.  I miss the smell of her hair when she says, "bring it in, Mom." (that's what she says when she wants a hug )  I miss her telling me about her day.  I miss her little text messages asking questions or advice.  She couldn't take her cell phone on this trip, and that was fine.  We were hoping for a little Internet cafe along the way to at least mention they were there safe and sound.  When her brother has this opportunity, I will recommend a phone tree so we know at least the arrival was OK. 

The fun thing, though, has been to be able to check the travel card and to "spy" a bit on where her money is being spent.  That is how I know she is thriving in London and tomorrow, maybe buying her mother something in Paris.  (Although I would not object to a gift from Barcelona.) "Smuggle some cured meat," I say, "it will be fine!"  "Can I do that?"  "Why not?", I respond. And then we laughed. 

You see, I haven't slept since she has been gone.  Three hours here, maybe five there.  It's all rather humorous and pathetic, actually.  I didn't think I would have this reaction! Will I be this way as an empty nester?  I tell myself no. We are too close for that.  At least we have cell phones for our little daily messages for reassurance.   My reassurance has been one of her favorite blankets.  It's fuzzy and polka dotted.  Her favorite.  It's what she wraps herself in when she wants to be on the couch. 

So, at night, it makes it's way into my room and next to the pillow on the other side of my bed.  It's nice knowing it's there.  Every once in awhile I give it a sniff.  It's filled with Erin.  It comforts me as I wonder and hope she is having the time of her life.  It makes me smile when I think of her laugh when one of her friends says something funny.  It melts my heart when I know I trust her to explore the flavors of the countries, and the people she will encounter that get to experience the wonderful person that she is.

So, you know I'm not crazy.  It's just weird.  It's weird not knowing where your child is.  It's that time in one's life when you have to start letting go. So waving goodbye to her on Wednesday was OK.  No meltdowns.  Just smiles. Her biggest experience to date, and a first for me as well. Just go and be, Erin.  Have a blast!

Her first plan ride. Her first major train ride. (Being five and going to Boston by train counts, I think.) Not her first bus ride, and then more planes coming home.  She has been where I would love to go.  I am envious, yet I can live the experience through her and through the tales she will tell when her tired body gets home. I love listening to all she has to say.

I'll be here for her.  I will always be here for her.  Whether she is in Europe or three miles down the road. 
I'm sure the parental voices are in her head.  They will always be there to guide her through life's quests and all that goes with it.

I'm so glad her father and I , along with grandparents and aunts, could give her this opportunity.  The first in her lifetime of hopefully many more to come.

So, fly my friends.   Literally and figuratively.  And have the time of your life.

Enjoy,
Kathy
P.S.  See you Thursday, Erin.



Comfort Me With Cabbage Rolls

I must admit that I am a huge fan of Ruth Reichl.  From the moment I picked up her book Comfort Me With Apples, until the last one published, they adorn my bookshelves proudly.  Even better, I was tickled to see her on Top Chef Masters the other night as a judge.  I hope she returns weekly.  The way she words the foods that touch her palate and shares her humorous adventures in the culinary world, delight me to no end.  Does this make me a Ruth Reichl groupie?  I'll have to think about that.  My secret dream would be to dine with her to experience her world.  I'm drawn to her simplicity, yet am enamored with her ease at enjoying something that I most likely won't see on my plate in a very long time.  But, there I go dreaming again. 

Today, though, and most of this past week, I have been thinking about the word 'comfort'. We are comforted by various ways in our lives; the wonderful hugs of a family member or friend, a hand to hold, a journal to write our thoughts in, and, with food.  There are many other things and joys that bring us comfort.  I know a few people that the thrill of shopping not only provides an adrenaline rush, but it soothes them in ways that I cannot relate to.  (OK, maybe with books.)  The crowds in a mall excite them and comfort them , whereas for me, I need a sedative to just walk into the building.  Ah, but the quiet of home and surrounded by my books, children and animals, seems to be all I hope for, and am comforted by.

The last few weeks have been difficult for my Dad.  He is at the age when one starts losing the friends they have known for the better part of fifty years.  Two, recently, have my heart breaking for him.  I am in Rochester, New York, and he is in Reading, Pennsylvania.  Our ways to comfort one another are via email or the phone.  (Although, he still loves snail mail and that's something I greatly appreciate, yet wish more people would do. It's an art that is slowly leaving us, due to the "techie" world we live in.)  I have been able to offer my condolences to him, some of the family members, and enjoy and reminisce in my own way about how these particular folks touched my own life.  All with smiles, I might add. I remember losing friends in high school and thinking how young my fellow students were in their lives and all they would have enjoyed and would have had to look forward to.  For them, another plan was their journey.  However, to lose friends at 77, one begins to see their own mortality and to relish the life that they have with even more zest.  That, my friends, is one of the legacies my father will leave behind someday.  For no one I know can embrace this life with more kindness and vitality than him. 

Food brings comfort to most of us.  On cold, winter nights, we long for meatloaf and mashed potatoes, a roast chicken sizzling from the oven after the aromas have simmered through the house, soups, stews, etc.  To me it doesn't matter the season.  I'll eat those things year 'round.  We have finally entered spring.  The daffodils in my garden are popping up and the tulips have let me know that they will bloom soon.  There are also the remnants of winter past with matted leaves to be raked and soil to be turned, and more grass to be planted.  I look outside my kitchen window and sigh with the work that is ahead, yet, knowing there will be a new fence in place soon and things will certainly be sprouting with the season. 

One of the first foods I think about that bring me comfort are my Nana's cabbage rolls.  They were passed on to me, along with her very own recipe box, complete with her writing that is difficult to read.  I'm always impressed with the cards that just list ingredients and no directions. 



The cabbage rolls Nana made are with this tangy tomato sauce, that toward the end of cooking, the lid is lifted from the oven casserole and a bit of caramelization happens because of the brown sugar that it's laced with. Nana was very much a home cook.  Chocolate cream pies, cabbage rolls, chicken divan, and many more casseroles.  Her specialties were baked goods.  Oh, she had a sweet tooth, yes she did.  My personal childhood favorite was she always made Ambrosia when we would visit; pieces of pineapple, orange segments, cherries, coconut, bananas and marshmallows, all wrapped up in fluffy whipped cream.  The whole thing would melt in your mouth.  Goodness, when was the last time I made THAT? 

The cocktail hour was always expected when Nana and Grandpa would visit or when we would visit them.  I can still hear her chewing the onion that she slid off of the skewer into her mouth from her Gibson Martini.

(I'll save other martini stories for another time.)  There were always nibbles of sorts around; dips, chips, and celery stuffed with something.  I think I could just go on and on about Nana today, for some reason. Just gives me more things to write about down the road.

I hold this recipe near and dear to my heart.  I've added things through the years to keep that tomato sauce sticking to the cabbage rolls, and, every time, I enjoy them a little more than I did the last. Everyone has their own version based on how they were raised. I wish I could bring Dad a big pot of these today.  I enjoy watching him as he eats my cooking, usually shaking his head from side to side with enjoyment (And probably wonderment of "Wow, this kid can actually cook!) and maybe evoking a memory or two as I cook the recipes of his past. Perhaps today, even though there is the feeling of spring warmth in the air, this would still bring comfort to the losses he has had to endure.

Think about the things that bring you comfort; whether in times of sadness, times of joy, or when it's the certain kind of day that you hope for a little more of 'something.'

Loss is loss.  Comfort is comfort. 

In a little while, my own comfort awaits today;  it's Sunday.  There is a crossword to be solved.

Enjoy,

Kathy

*Note:  I make these with my eyes, and lots of trial and error.  Please don't let that keep you from making them!  Read recipe all the way through, first.  This can be doubled.*

Nana's Cabbage Rolls

Filling:

1 1/2 lbs ground beef (I like the 80/20 to get the flavor, but you can use leaner beef)

1/2-3/4 cup rice (Now Nana says raw, but I like to cook mine)

1 medium onion, chopped

1/2 cup Parmesan cheese

2 eggs

salt and pepper

garlic powder

2 Tbs. parsley

Combine all ingredients together (after rice has cooled.  You can do this step a day ahead, if you wish.)

Sauce: I tend to make extra and freeze any remaining.  (You can also do this step a day ahead, too.)

2-28 oz cans of tomato puree  (you can use crushed tomatoes, but I find that this is richer)

1-2 cans tomato paste

2-3 lemons

salt and pepper

1/2 cup brown sugar (or more to taste)

2 cups water  (use sparingly at first until you get a smooth texture with the sauce, so it's not too watery)

Combine all ingredients of sauce with whisk until you get the consistency you want.  I enjoy a semi-thick sauce.

*This sauce should be smooth, sweet, tangy due to the lemons.  Add more to your liking.*

Steam the leaves of 1 large head of cabbage in boiling water, and remove the leaves carefully.  Remove any hard stems, to make rolling easier.  (I sometimes will buy one head and a half depending on the leaves.)

Divide the filling, enough for each leaf (try 1/3 cup or less depending on size of leaf), and roll up the leaf of cabbage burrito style and secure with toothpick. Repeat until filling is used up. Set aside.  These rolls are not skinny, they are made to be plump.

Cover the bottom of a solid roasting pan with lid with extra small cabbage leaves and one onion. Pour a little of the sauce to cover the leaves.

Put the cabbage leaves on top. 

Pour the remaining sauce over the cabbage rolls.

Bring to a boil first on top of the stove. 

Remove and put into a 350 degree oven. 

Cook covered for one hour.

Remove lid, and reduce oven to 250 degrees, and cook two more hours, basting with the sauce. 

*I have been known to cook these all day*



Korean Bulgogi

Bul-what-e?  I know many people haven't heard of this dish, but, many of you have eaten it probably without even knowing what it was called. 

Wikipedia describes it like this:
"Bulgogi is made from thin slices of sirloin or other prime cuts of beef.^[5] Before cooking the meat is marinated to enhance its flavour and tenderness, with a mixture of soy sauce, sugar, sesame oil, garlic and other ingredients such as scallions, or mushrooms, especially white button mushrooms or shiitake. Sometimes, cellophane noodles are added to the dish, which varies by region and specific recipe.^[1][6]
Bulgogi is traditionally grilled, but pan-cooking is common as well. Whole cloves of garlic, sliced onions, and chopped green peppers are often grilled or fried with the meat.^[1] This dish is sometimes served with a side of lettuce or other leafy vegetable, which is used to wrap a slice of cooked meat, often along with a dab of ssamjang, or other side dishes, and then eaten as a whole."

When I was married in 1988, and loving to try new things, I received one of those recipe card subscriptions in the mail.  You know the kind.  Get one pack free to entice you and then for the small, small price of $9.99/month, you received multiple packs and they were placed in this clear plastic box where all of them could be properly organized!

This was a very exciting thing for a newlywed.  Think of all of the dishes I could prepare.  How exciting!
Well, one of the first was Korean Bulgogi. I can remember the look on my husband's face at the time of sheer happiness.  The sweet, the spicy, all combined into that grilled flavor of having just come off the grill pan.

Two nights ago, my son and I were solo.  His sister was working, and it was a Bulgogi kind of evening.  Flank steak was on sale at the market;  who can give up a good bargain?  He is such a meat phase right now, I knew I had to deliver something to feed his blood.  (insert laughter)  Ah, the appetite of a 14 year old.  "Mom, I also think you need to start buying two gallons of milk at a time, the way I'm drinking it."  Duly noted. 

Do you remember getting things in the mail that enticed you to collect? Store? Subscribe to? What were they and what did you make/cook from them?  Or did they find their way into the trash so fast.  Thankfully, I don't fall for that kind of "stuff" anymore, but I'm happy it started my newlywed desire to cook for another.


I no longer have that little plastic box, but I can still see it in my head.  We sat down at the table, said grace, and dug into deliciousness.  Instead of cellophane noodles, we had sweet potatoes and some peas.  Ethan loves peas. 

I hope you have a "Bulgogi" kind of evening ahead of you soon. 

 As always...
Enjoy,
Kathy

Korean Bulgogi (my "tweaked" version)

Flank Steak ~ 1.5 lbs (you could use chicken, or pork, or another cut of grill able meat)

5 Tbs. soy sauce
3 Tbs. brown sugar (some prefer to use white)
2 cloves of garlic, minced
2 Tbs. sesame oil
1/2 Tbs of chili oil (depending on how much heat you like.  Could use red pepper flakes)
1 Tbs. rice wine vinegar
Salt and pepper (I find it still needs some salt)

Marinate meat in all ingredients listed for two hours.  (Overnight is best)
Grill until medium rare and let rest for 5 minutes before slicing. (5-6 minutes/side)  Slice against the grain.

Green onion, shredded carrot, sauteed mushrooms, onions can be added for garnish and for texture.
Can be served over cellophane noodles or rice, or by itself with other accompaniments.

Have fun with it.  Experiment with the flavors.  More acid?  Add more vinegar.  Sweeter?  Add more sugar.



Trees

Two mornings ago, after the kids were off on their merry way to school, I heard this sound.  "Where on earth is that coming from?"  It sounded like a buzzing, but with intensity.  Ah, then I heard the wood crack.  My bedroom windows face northwest, and I thought for sure that this intense buzzing, whirling, cracking sound with very high motors, men yelling "STOP!", and other obscenities was a few doors away.  I was about to take my shower.  I walked into the bathroom and cracked the window.  No, the sound was not coming from two doors away, it was NEXT door, practically in my backyard! 



There are two trees in this yard.  One on either side of the yard, bordering on one neighbor's fence, and the other, bordering mine.  I'm a cross between a semi-morning person and an semi-evening person (can't really decide, so that's where we are staying for now.), so this sound wasn't exactly welcome to one who fights headaches on a weekly basis.  I thought, maybe they are taking down both trees.  I would miss the shade of this maple in the yard, but on the other hand, wouldn't miss the fall clean up.  OK.  So I showered. 

The buzzing, whirling, continued.  Looks like only one tree was coming down on this day. 
But then it got me thinking about trees. 

My Dad and I had a brief exchange in an email this last week about what tree we would be.  I've always identified with the Weeping Willow, and not because I cry all the time, either.  I don't. (Just to be clear.)  It's base is strong.  It's leaves sway freely.  It looks like it could hug the earth and those sitting under it.  I have a strong base and a strong foundation in my beliefs,and the way I live my life.  So that's how I interpret that tree.  It might not have the changing colors in the fall, but it falls away quietly and unassuming in order to wait for winter's arrival. 

But, I digress.

I was thinking about the tree in our neighbor's yard when I lived in Pennsylvania.  My best friend Nancy lived directly next door.  That was THE best friendship a little girl could have.  We played until all hours in our rec room/basement, playing house and pretended we were our mother's doing dishes and talking.  (Actually our mother's DID do dishes and would talk across the lawn;  that's how close the houses were.)  We were Nadia Comenici and Cathy Ribgy on the picnic tables on the balance beams.  We put our stuffed animals up our shirts and pretended we were pregnant women and carried our mother's handbags in the backyard.  Sometimes the dog, Janie, would follow, but Janie mainly liked to stay near the big maple tree in front of the house.  It was on The Quinter's property, but it provided shade for all the teenagers on summer days playing games outside or a place to hide in the evening when they were playing games that Nancy and I were too young to play.  It was also their dog, Janie, who felt that relief, panting while watching us all play in the neighborhood.

On really special days, Mrs. Quinter would invite me over for lunch.  Oooh, lunch at someone else's house!  I loved their house.  AND the kitchen was carpeted.  Back then, I thought that to be very fancy.  Mrs. Quinter would make tomato soup.  Always.  One day, I remember, I asked her, why it tasted so different than what we had at our house.  "Oh, I add a stick of butter to it.", she would say.  What did I know!  I just said, "Mmm."  (Most of you are cringing)  There was more butter.  If it was saltines with the soup, then you put butter on the saltines.  If it was a grilled cheese, then it came greasy as could be before dunking it into the soup.  So Nancy and I would have our giggles over soup and then be sent back out to play. Today I would head straight for the couch.

I visit that tree whenever I am down in Pennsylvania visiting my Dad.  It's still there.  The Quinter's are not.  They have moved to another area of town.  I've been trying to track down Nancy and have given my Dad the task of sleuthing.  Oh, to reconnect with that childhood friend would be fabulous.  Kind of like going home.  I wonder if that tree had as much meaning to her as it did me;  well, maybe not so much meaning as much as sweet memories.  Our little dead end street was filled with memories.

Even at night, when Nancy and I would be summoned to our own homes for bed, like the movie, "Big", we would talk across the lawn to each other until someone heard us and say, "Girls?  It's time for bed."  It was the best feeling ever.  Playing outside, exhausting yourself, having a bath, and talking with Nancy while the breezes caught our windows and made the curtains dance. 

So maybe this isn't as much about food today as it is about friendship.  And trees. 
What tree do you identify with and why?

Smiles. Memories.  Balance beams, and tomato soup.

As always...enjoy,
Kathy



Beer? Bread? Both?

I adore Sundays.  I meditate in the morning, think about  a long breakfast that stretches on for hours, all the while reading the paper and looking forward to timing my day when I can do the crossword puzzle.  When the kids are with me, it's great, too, because Ethan enjoys making big breakfasts and they both wonder if Mom is going to turn out some pancakes!  So, it wasn't that odd when I saw, a few weeks ago, Pam Anderson's column and her daughters (http://www.threemanycooks.com/) , display a wonderful recipe for this five ingredient bread, in the USA Today insert in the paper.  "No way!", I said to myself.

Bread and I have had a love/hate relationship over the last few years.  I've been tested for celiacs disease, gluten sensitivity, you name it.  The body she is a changin', but in moderation, I can enjoy some of the comforts that make my heart go pitty pat.  Bread, being the main one.  (Let's not even get started on cheese!)

Beer these days is as extensive as a wine store.  The aisles in my supermarket are getting longer with various types, from gluten free, to more local brewery's.  I'm not complaining, but, I'm also far from an afficionado.  I like a clean, crisp, beer to whet my appetite for Mexican food or entice me on a warm summer's day.  Other than that, I usually don't imbibe much anymore.  (Ah, but there are those college stories...)

For the past few months or so there has been this corner of my fridge that finds itself with a small collection of beer bottles.  Oh,we have some Heineken, Corona, Coors Light, to name a few.  No one is drinking them at my house.  I think I made a chili with one, braised some meat with another, but the few remaining, needed a home. 

Thank you, Three Many Cooks!  Five ingredients using beer and the most tantalizing bread I have had in a long time.  Toast for breakfast, you say?  Check.  Make it practically daily, you say?  Check.  Have it right from the oven for dinner, you say?  Check.  We will experiment with this, I'm sure.  Different beers have produced different flavors, but they are all so wonderful. 

So, since so many are asking me for the recipe (which, again, I take zero credit for), here you go.  Just don't go enjoying the beer prior to pouring it into the flour.  You need all 12 ounces, I can assure you.  If you must drink one, go get another out of the fridge and sit back and enjoy the smells eminating from your kitchen.  Just don't fall asleep.  The bread only takes 45 minutes. : )

Quick Five Ingredient Bread

3 1/2 cups all purpose flour
3 Tbs. sugar
1 Tbs. baking powder
1 1/2 tsp salt (I use Kosher)
12 ounces of beer
(1 egg beaten)

Put the rack in your oven to the lower-middle position and pre-heat your oven to 375.

Mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl.
Add the beer.
Stir with a fork until just combined. (This is important.  Do not put in your mixer.  Not the same)
Turn out dough onto floured surface.
Knead quickly to form a ball. (I do this until it's not too sticky, so add the flour accordingly)

Put on a baking sheet.
Slit an 'x' on the top with a serrated knife confidently (as Pam says)

Brush with egg wash.
Bake for 45 minutes.

Let it cool a bit on a wire rack and enjoy. 

 Enjoy!
Kathy