Who Needs Fireworks? What’s cooking? Blueberry Syrup

Independence Day always comes as something of a shock to my system. It’s not really the Fourth of July, is it? How can it be that half the summer is already over? Of course, it’s not really half over – it just feels that way.

And here in the New York area, the warm weather has the tall buildings emptying out like someone pulled a plug. People are out after work, eating at sidewalk cafes, sitting on neighborhood stoops, and walking their dogs, children, or spouses. Like them, I want to grab each day and hold it tight, to suck every morsel of flavor out of the season before the leaves turn. it seems like it'll last forever. Then, suddenly, June has slipped past, and now July is racing on.

We thought when we got our place in Jersey City that we’d be able to see the fireworks, but noooo. Almost the minute we arrived, the pyrotechnic powers that be decided to move the whole shebang upriver – too far for viewing from our building. Bummer. But even as I moped around the apartment feeling sorry for what we were missing, I stopped at the window, looked south, and counted 10 separate celebrations off in the distance in NJ and Staten Island that were at least visible from here, and another three in Bklyn. Tiny bursts of color and fire, signalling everyone’s desire to celebrate summer or independence or our country or all three. It’s a very joyful sight.

Moreover, Manhattan has its own light show every night – available only to the folks in NJ. So now I’m pretty sure we’re really very lucky.

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It must be the height of the blueberry season in NJ, because the farmers’ markets are loaded with them. Which means it’s time for me to make blueberry syrup. I discovered this super-easy recipe last year in Food & Wine magazine, and couldn’t stop making it. I gave it to most of my friends, I froze it, I put it on everything from ice cream to cottage cheese to chicken (as a glaze before baking). What I like most about it – aside from the truly pure blueberry flavor – is that it’s not as sweet as most syrups. And while it’s a bit late for recommending a red, white, and blue dessert, summer isn’t really even half over; this would be the perfect add-on to strawberry shortcake or angelfood cake with strawberries or raspberries. Happy summer, everyone!

Blueberry Syrup

Adapted from Food & Wine magazine

1½ pounds blueberries (5 cups)
4 cups water
2 cups sugar
Six strips of lemon zest (use a vegetable peeler to get strips about ½ inch wide and 1-2 inches long)
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

In a pot, combine the blueberries with 1 cup of the water. Using an implement like a potato masher (a large round wisk might also work), crush the berries and bring to a simmer. Simmer over low heat for 15 minutes. Strain the juice into a heatproof measuring cup, pressing hard on the solids. Discard the solids.

Rinse out the pot. Add the sugar, lemon zest and the remaining 3 cups of water and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Boil the syrup over moderate heat until it registers 225° on a candy thermometer (about 20 minutes). Add the blueberry juice and lemon juice and boil over high heat for 1 minute. Let the syrup cool, then discard the lemon zest. Pour the syrup into just-cleaned bottles. Seal and refrigerate for up to 6 months.

The Writers Who Lunch What’s cooking? Chicken Salad with Grapes and Pecans

What do you serve a group of really special guests for lunch? The four women who came to my house today have been nothing less than extraordinary influences on my writing life. Or maybe I should just say on my life, period.

For almost a decade, we met weekly to talk about writing, to read what we’d written over the previous week, but also commenting, interpreting, suggesting, and praising each other’s work. We had different goals, different needs fulfilled by the writing, and different genres in which we worked. One is a poet, one a short story writer, one a middle-grade novelist and essayist, one a much-published author of romances and young adult novels. And me, the essayist.

Longevity isn’t the only feature that distinguished us from many writing groups. The frequency of our meetings was also unusual, as most writing groups in my experience meet monthly. Being a small group, and meeting that often, we developed an amazing closeness that transcended the writing life and into the rest of our lives. The highs and lows of married life, parenting, professional progress, and mental health in general were often on the table along with our manuscripts.

But after all those years, life intervened, and one by one, we scattered to the winds – or, rather, to Texas, Florida, Massachusetts, and New York City. One lone member is staying put in New Jersey, maintaining our roots, but even she stages periodic escapes to Colorado.

I’ve tried other groups. Even while this New Jersey group was still going strong, I attempted to put together other groups from various writing workshops I attended. But none was so strong or so supportive. In fact, just knowing they’d be here today stirred something in the back of my brain – the need to create, to share that creativity, to hear how it affected others.

So today’s lunch had to be special. I started with a cold minted pea soup, a bright green purée so smooth it fairly slips down the throat on its own. The main course was a chicken salad, tweaked a bit to accommodate some members’ dietary needs. But as often happens, the alterations produced a serendipity of flavors that I thought I should share with you.

I accompanied the chicken salad with a batch of Cochineal Drop Biscuits (from my April 28, 2011 posting), and a bright summer fruit salad of watermelon, peaches, and red and yellow New Jersey tomatoes, dressed with a splash of balsamic vinegar and a chiffonade (finely ribboned) of fresh basil. Dessert was sorbet from a local gelateria and amaretto cookies. Yum!

Chicken Salad with Grapes and Pecans

Serves 4-6.

4 cups cooked chicken breasts (about 1½ pound), cut or torn into bite-size pieces
1 cup walnuts, toasted (400° for 5 mins)
1 cup jicama, cut into ½-inch cubes and sprinkled with juice of ¼ lemon (if jicama is not available, use celery)
2 cups seedless red grapes, halved
2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon (fresh is really more flavorful than dried, but if you have only dried -- which sometimes happens -- 2 teaspoons of dried will do nicely)
⅜ cup (6 tablespoons) light mayonnaise
⅜ cup (6 tablespoons) no-fat plain Greek yogurt
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Kitchen Goddess note: I like to cook the chicken breasts all together in the oven – so easy. In a Pyrex dish large enough to hold the breasts in a single layer, sprinkle the chicken with garlic salt and pepper, and top each breast with a sprig of either thyme or parsley and a thin slice of lemon. Cover with foil and bake at 350º for 20-30 minutes (depending on thickness). Uncover the breasts and let cool before you shred them for the salad. Toss the shredded chicken with about ¼ cup of the broth that collects, and save the rest for another use.

Light mayo and non-fat yogurt make this salad a dieter’s dream.

In a large bowl, combine the shredded chicken, walnuts, jicama, grapes, and tarragon. Stir together the mayo, yogurt, wine vinegar, and salt/pepper, and pour it over the salad mixture. Toss until combined well.

Do ahead? If you want to make this the day before, combine the non-dressing ingredients (chicken through tarragon) and cover tightly then refrigerate. Separately, combine the dressing ingredients (mayo through salt/pepper) in a jar. About a half hour before serving, toss the dressing with the chicken mixture and refrigerate.

Big-Hearted Father’s Day BBQ Sauce What’s cooking? Harry’s Best BBQ Sauce

I’m back! And just in time for Father's Day. So in honor of my own dear Dad, I’ve come with a recipe for the best barbecue sauce ever. This is what a loyal daughter does: she declares her father’s barbecue sauce recipe the best ever. Even if he’s no longer around to bask in the glory. But with my own personal bias disclosed, I will still promise that this sauce is pretty damn great.

By most accounts, daughters have their fathers wrapped around their little fingers from Day 1. I am probably no exception. My dad was a great guy who would have done back flips for me if he could have.

Mother's Day Cookies

I hope all you moms had a great day...

Big Bend Biscuits What’s cooking? Cochineal Drop Biscuits

I’m always amazed at how it often takes a tourist to get a native to see the sights of his or her own city/state/country. I lived in Manhattan for 10 years and NJ for another 30 before I went to the top of the Empire State Building. The impetus? My 11-year-old nephew arrived from Houston for a visit.

Similarly, I never visited the celebrated Jockey Hollow area outside Morristown, NJ, where George Washington’s army spent a miserable winter in 1780. Never, at least, until friends from Seattle showed up.

My Favorite Lamb Recipe – Aye, There’s the Rub What’s cooking? Amazing Roast Leg of Lamb

Last week’s New York Times Magazine contained a piece by Mark Bittman with three yummy-sounding recipes for leg of lamb.

As I read them, I thought, I should try one of these. And then I remembered why I probably won’t: I have my own concoction that lifts lamb to a height I should probably call Amazing Taste. So flavorful that my friend Ellen – who says she doesn’t really like lamb – will dig into it with gusto.

The key is the spice rub, which I discovered in my early single days in Manhattan. It comes from Craig Claiborne’s New York Times Cookbook, the original edition (1961), and the first grown-up cookbook I ever owned. It appears in the book to be almost an afterthought, but I fell in love with the list of ingredients that at the time encompassed almost every condiment I had in my larder.

Amazing Roast Leg of Lamb

6-7 pounds bone-in leg of lamb, trimmed of excess fat (also works fine with boneless leg, which is easier to carve and may take less time, but is not quite as flavorful)

The Rub:
2-3 cloves garlic
2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground pepper
1 teaspoon powdered ginger
2 bay leaves, crushed
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried sage
1 teaspoon dried marjoram
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons salad oil

Mix well the ingredients to the rub. Make small slits all over the lamb, and massage the rub into the meat. Let sit 30 minutes to an hour. (You can let it sit more; if so, refrigerate the lamb while it sits).

Preheat the oven to 450º. Set the lamb on a rack in a roasting pan, and roast 30 minutes. Reduce the temperature to 350º, and continue cooking for another 30 minutes. After that, using an instant meat thermometer, check the temperature of the meat every 10 minutes, until it reaches 145º in the thickest part. It should not need to cook more than 1½ hours. Let it sit for 5 minutes before carving.

Kitchen Goddess note: You can test for doneness by pressing the meat with your fingers – it will be slightly resistant at rare/medium rare, and more resistant for medium. Also, if you prick the meat with a fork, the juice that comes out will be rosy for medium-rare, almost clear for medium.

Happy Easter Cookies, Everyone!

As you can see, I've been very busy...

Cheesy Competition

One of the great things about Austin is the variety of slightly bizarre and clearly funky happenings that seem to occur on a daily basis. Last weekend, I put on my bravest face and joined the crowd at The 3rd (Usually) Annual Austin Regional Grilled Cheese Invitational. I kid you not.

The day featured rock music directed by a DJ, lots of beer, a Queen (seen in the photo above) and King, and even the requisite couple of dudes selling T-shirts. I was not the oldest nor the youngest (that would be an unusual group), but definitely a generation beyond a majority of the celebrants. And I clearly didn’t have enough tatts or flowers in my hair. But as with many things Austin-like, all ages were welcomed with an openness and a general sense of joy and good will that reminded me of a 60s-style love-in – as long as what you love is grilled cheese.

The setting was the large back yard of the local Moose Lodge. Indeed, if you participated in the raffle, you could even win – as second prize (first prize was half the pot) – a free membership in the Lodge. A restaurant named Chedd’s, part of a Denver-based franchise that specializes in gourmet grilled cheese, gave away fresh-grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato basil soup all afternoon, and Antonelli’s, a local cheese shop, donated the aged Grafton cheddar used in the sandwiches. No one left hungry.

Apparently, these competitions are spreading faster than the mint in my garden. The mother of all grilled cheese competitions, which started in 2003, takes place in Los Angeles, and first prize at the various regional competitions is usually a trip to LA for the showdown. The Austin invitational pulled 31 competitors, in three categories: Missionary (cheese only), Kama Sutra (anything goes, but it must be at least 60% cheese), and Honey Pot (dessert).

The overall winner went by the unlikely name of Charlie Sheen Duh, which I didn’t get exactly – does Charlie Sheen like grilled cheese? While I couldn’t quite understand all the ingredients – and the chef was particularly cryptic in his description – the sandwich came on King’s Hawaiian rolls, and featured mozzarella and honey with some sort of cream sauce.

For me, the day was an eye-opener: I’d never imagined there could be so many ways to tweak a grilled cheese sandwich. But I am now intrigued, and may put forth some effort toward next year’s competition.

So what’s in your favorite grilled cheese?

My Sprinkles for St. Pat's

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone!

Birthday Soup What’s cooking? Hazie’s White Chili

Today is my younger son’s birthday – 28 years old. A victory of sorts, as his philosophy of life could at times have been described as “Fire, Aim, Ready.” This is the son who went out for a pass and crashed into a tree. The one who lost so many winter jackets – I think four was his record for one season – that it often seemed he was running his own charity coat drive. And the one who could get a bad grade in a class simply because he was disappointed that the teacher wasn’t smarter. (“You know,” I’d say, “you’ll have to carry that grade with you for the rest of your life, while she’ll just get a new class and move on.” Ah, well...)

We worried about him, despite his charm and contagious enthusiasm – worried that he’d run off a cliff or into a fist, or – worse – that he’d spend so much time Firing, he’d miss out on the greatness of Ready and Aim.

But for the worriers among you – do parents ever stop worrying? – you should know that today he’s in med school. It took him five years of Ready and Aim, so I think he’s got that part down now. And, in my totally unbiased opinion, those people who encounter him as their doctor will be lucky indeed.

Fire?

*  *  *

One place where my son remains fearless is in the kitchen. Here’s a recipe he should like – cheap, hearty, easy. From my southern friend, Gusty, who passed it along from yet another southerner. Isn't sharing wonderful?

The recipe makes a hefty amount of soup – tripling it will feed 50+ if you add salad and bread. For the true Southern experience, I think cornbread is a must; but it’s probably very good with French bread as well.

Hazie’s White Chili

For the chicken:
5-6 skinless, boneless chicken breasts (enough to make 4 c cooked chicken, diced or shredded)
10-12 sprigs fresh thyme
3-4 thin slices lemon
garlic salt & pepper

For the chili:
4 16-ounce cans navy beans, drained (set aside one can for puréeing)
6 cups chicken broth (include broth saved from cooking chicken breasts)
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium onions, chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 4-ounce cans chopped green chilies
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1½ teaspoons dried oregano
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper (or less)
1½ teaspoons chili powder
salt and pepper to taste

Place the chicken breasts in one layer in an oven-proof dish. Arrange thyme and lemon slices on top. Salt and pepper the breasts. Cover with foil and bake at 350º for 30 mins or until done. Remove the breasts, reserving the broth, and discard the lemon slices and thyme. Chop or shred the chicken into bite-sized pieces.

Heat the olive oil to medium-high in a soup pot and sauté the onions 10 mins; reduce the heat to medium and add the garlic for another minute (don’t let it burn). Add three of the four cans of beans and the rest of the ingredients, including the chicken. Purée the fourth can of beans in a blender and add it to the soup. Simmer the soup for about 30 mins, adding salt and pepper to taste. Serve with a dollop of creme fraiche or sour cream.