The Viking and I, Part I.

I love living out here, but this house has some interesting quirks of its own. Like not really having a front door (I use the one by the garage).  Small bedrooms, but a giant kitchen. And the world’s biggest laundry room. As soon as I can figure out how to move the washer & dryer, I’m turning that into a dining room. Until then, I mostly keep the appliances covered and use the rest of the room as my gallery/studio. It gets good light—from both sides—but isn’t insulated, and is really c-c-c-cold in the winter.

I digress. Back to the giant kitchen. And the giant Viking stove.

The one that hasn’t worked well since I moved in, and has been getting worse. Those yummy Blondies, which should take about 25 minutes to bake, come out half raw inside after an hour and a half. (They’re actually really good that way, but still.)

For the past couple of months, I’ve been mostly ‘cooking’ in an old toaster oven a friend of mine was going to throw out. It doesn’t heat up the whole kitchen, which was nice during the summer, and actually works great for a lot of things. Not for baking, though. Which has been good for my waistline, but…

So, with the weather turning, and the holidays rapidly approaching, I finally got somebody out here to take a look.

Took me almost two years before it got so bad that I had to do something about it.

Took almost a week between me calling, and them actually showing up.

Took him almost fifteen minutes before he was packing up and writing up an invoice.

This is where my insecurities come in. Now, mind you, I really did wait until I was ABSOLUTELY sure that there was something wrong with the oven (and the burners weren’t all that reliable either) before I called. That it wasn’t me. That I hadn’t, every single time, forgotten an ingredient, or set the timer wrong, or forgotten how long it takes to roast a chicken. Or bake a batch of Blondies.

So I only had to watch him, stunned, for a minute or two before I got up the courage to ask “You’re already done?!”

(Internally, the dialogue went something like this: He’s been here five minutes! I can’t believe I’m going to have to pay him $65 to give me one of those condescending looks and say “Lady, “ (I hate being called “Lady” that way) “There’s nothing wrong with this oven…”)

He did none of those things.

He told me, in slightly more detail than required, exactly what was wrong with my oven and the range above, which parts he was going to order, how he was going to replace them, and the adjustments he’d make once the new parts were in to make sure that the temperature stayed even, that the burners didn’t sputter, and that never, ever, ever again would the flame go out leaving the gas flowing and me worried that the dog and I would asphyxiate in the middle of the night and that weeks later the neighbors would start complaining about the smell and send the fire department in to find our dead rotting bodies… that is, if the house hadn’t blown up first.

I almost kissed him.

Cooking with Books

When my cousin was here a few weeks ago, she’d just seen the movie “Julie and Julia.” She loved it—and thought I would, too—and wanted to see my copy of that first, original Julia Child cookbook, “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.”

It’s not unreasonable for her to assume that I would have it. I’ve been collecting cookbooks since before I could read and have a pretty good collection.

The majority of them are here:

A couple of key volumes are in the kitchen, here,

 

and here,

-including a Simone Beck! (That one was a gift—I’ve never actually used it.)

The rest are in two mis-matched bookcases in the living room; some are stacked with the Christmas  and Easter books (I love Easter); and some absolute favorites, plus all the recipes I tear out of magazines or get from friends and can’t wait to try, are in two big drawers in the kitchen.

But I didn’t have that one.

It took me almost two years in the last house to get all my books organized. And I mean ALL my books: the classics, the books on natural history, the children’s books, the writing books, the photography books, the sci-fi and fantasy books, etc.  And they were REALLY organized: for the first time, maybe ever, I had almost enough room, and had made the time to sort them all. A lot of them were shelved two deep, but for a brief, glorious moment in time I knew where every single one was.

And then I moved again.

I tried really, really hard to keep them organized as I was packing. How does that saying go? “We plan, God laughs.”

So now I don’t know (yet) exactly where all my books are, I still don’t have enough bookcases (is there such a thing?), and even the categories that are more or less all in one place, like my cookbooks, still aren’t sorted properly.

Which is why I couldn’t find the Julia Child book when my cousin asked for it. I didn’t even think I had it—I’ve never been big on French cooking, and couldn’t remember ever using it. And I hate to admit it—but for a while there, Julia Child was a little bit of a joke. I knew someone in college who worked for her for a while, and there were some stories….

Anyway, we did manage to find another book of hers, which, after paging through it for maybe half a minute, my ‘cooking-is-so-NOT-my-favorite-thing’ cousin handed it back with a “well, the movie was really good. I think you should go see it.”

So I finally did.

And I did love it. It’s nice to know that a movie like that can still get made.

And it turns out that I have every single one of the cookbooks they showed in the movie (except for the one with the ‘Marshmallow Fluff”).  And so I started stressing a little, thinking maybe I should get a copy of  “Mastering…” after all, and thinking that all the good, old, copies are probably expensive by now, and consoling myself that a new one would do just as well, when, near the end of the movie, they show Julia receiving her first copy of that first book.

And I realized that, of course I had it. And I knew exactly where it was. I came straight home, went straight to the bookcase, and pulled it out. (I’m a very visual person. I just didn’t remember what it looked like.) And since my cookbooks still aren’t sorted properly, it wasn’t where it should have been.

It’s right there, in that first photo of the green bookcases, just a scootch southwest of dead center: the (slightly torn) paper cover is kind of a teal green with white spots, and it has a soft orange box around the title. It’s on the wrong shelf—that’s the shelf where the baking/chocolate/candy making books are. Or should be. It’s a 1969 edition. Just eight years after it was first published, they were already on the eighteenth printing.

Wouldn’t it be nice if I could say that about one of my books someday?

But Julia’s still on the shelf for now. There’s a recipe for a scrumptious-sounding dessert I’ve been wanting to try in that pile in the kitchen drawer…and I’m going to make it tonight, so it’ll be ready for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.

I’m grateful for so many things. Being able to read is one of them. Scrumptious desserts are another. And having family and friends to share them with, most important of all.

Bon Appétit!

Apples to Apples

If you believe what they say about me you’ll know that I moved out here for the fruit trees and and the pool. The house that came with them was just a bonus :) For the past two months or so we’ve been watching the apples ripen on the wonderful old trees here. The larger is a Golden Delicious—the apples start out tiny and purple, turn red as they grow, and eventually ripen into very sweet, golden-yellow apples early in September. The other, slightly smaller tree somehow gives the impression of greater age. These apples start out hard and green, and ripen, a little later in the season, to a bright, almost unlikely pinkish-red. Not quite as sweet, they have a very crisp and bright flavor. I prefer the red ones for eating; the yellow are great for baking and drying.

Last year a friend from London was visiting just as the yellow apples started raining down and revealed a love of apple crumbles—what, on this side of the planet, we call an apple crisp. I put this recipe together for her. The topping is especially yummy.

Carmel Valley Apple-berry Crumble

4-6 medium apples
1 cup blueberries* 
1 cup cranberries*                                                                   (*If using dried berries, soak in warm water until soft. Drain off any excess liquid before using.)
Lemon juice

Topping:
1 ½ cups oatmeal
1 ½ cups light brown sugar
1 cup flour
¾ cups butter
½ teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon salt 

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Preparation:
Peel and slice apples—enough to cover the bottom of a 9”x13” baking pan, overlapping slightly. Sprinkle apple slices with lemon juice (and 1 tablespoon sugar, if desired. I don’t add any sugar—those yellow apples are very sweet!) 

Sprinkle mixed berries evenly over apples.

Topping:
Using a pastry blender, cut all other ingredients together to form moist crumbs. Distribute crumbs evenly over top of fruit mixture.

Bake approximately 30 minutes. Let cool before serving.

Especially yummy served with cream!                                       (TIP—let HaagenDaaz Vanilla Bean ice cream melt to form a rich vanilla cream sauce.)

When the neighbor hands you lemons….

It’s another beautiful day (although it’s already half over, and I still have WAY too much to do.) Last night, my neighbor Beth brought over a bag of nine, beautiful lemons from what sounds like an incredible tree on the other side of her yard. I haven’t seen it yet. She also told me to come over any time to get more if I wanted them. So, asap—either tonight, as soon as I get home, or tomorrow, first thing, I’m going to try a brand-new slightly lower-cal recipe I recently found for LEMON BARS. Which I love. Who doesn’t?

Watch this space—I’ll post as soon as I’ve tried them and let you know.

On the flip side, I gained a couple of pounds last week. NOT the direction I want to be heading! So much for the No-Pudge Fudge Brownie Mix from Trader Joe’s. Oh, well. They were pretty fudgy, though—fun while it lasted!

So this week it’s salad, chicken breasts, and no carbs. Well, except for Lemon Bars! (does that count?!) :)

ps—If anyone has a great Lemon recipe to share, I’d love to add it to my stash! And, with your permission, will share it here. I’ve been looking for AGES for the perfect Lemon Pound Cake or Bundt Cake Recipe: moist, yummy…mmm! Anyone?!

And in the meantime, I’m off to the gym. Making that a priority these days—even if it means that not every single thing on my list gets done that day. At least I’ll be fit and healthy to tackle it all again tomorrow. :)

Grey, clay, and chocolate chips :)

Brand new blog, and already I've fallen behind. It's grey and cold today (what happened to summer?) but a good day to spend in the studio, cutting out clay whales, and cats, and birds, and leaves, and acorns... Came up with some pretty cute spotted seals yesterday, a couple of big, goofy mantees, a cool new way to do D.'s beach fence, and two cute hummingbirds. Finished most of the sheep, and have started on the angels.

Would be a great day for some baking. I may not have time (and every surface in the kitchen is covered with clay at the moment!) but in case you do, here's a great blondie recipe from my friend Jeanne, via Alyssa. The first time I made it I goofed, and they turned out terrible, and I refused to try again for a couple of years. Silly me. Finally had Alyssa send the recipe again, made them (they're super-easy: I have no idea what I could have done wrong that first time!) they were FABULOUS, and now I make them whenever I can. Sometimes I put in 1/2 cup of nuts, as well.

For the person who asked me the other day what 'blondies' are, it's like a giant, soft chocolate-chip cookie / bar in a pan. This recipe makes one 8"x8" pan, but you can easily increase it to make more.
YUM!

Best Blondies

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Melt 1/3 cup butter and set aside.

Sift together and set aside:
1 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt

Add 1 cup light brown sugar to melted butter and mix.
Add 1 teaspoon vanilla to 1 slightly beaten egg, then add to brown sugar & butter mixture.
Add flour mixture, a little at a time, mixing just to blend.

I put about 1 cup of chocolate chips (and/or 1/2 cup of nuts) in at the last minute and just barely mix in. Press dough gently (it'll seem like there's barely enough) into an 8" x8" pan. (I use glass.)

BAKE at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes. (Don't overbake)

Enjoy!