Short ribs with bourbon, baby bellas, and shallots

YES, WE JUST FINISHED GRADING PAPERS for the semester, but that's not why we're turning to Jim Beam.

I manage to collect a variety of magazines this time of year, all of them touting holiday recipes and sure-fire ways to please your family and amaze your friends. All sorts of instruction and helpful hints: sixteen nifty ways to wrap presents with colored cellophane and cheesecloth remains; how to turn a block of cheddar and a Maraschino cherry into a Rudolph silhouette . . . which is perhaps why I found myself spending a little time reading about old cookbooks and recipes in a copy of Early American Life.

In that lovely magazine, I came across a recipe for stew from Leslie Mansfield's "Lewis and Clark Cookbook," in which bourbon flavored the sauce. Intriguing! I thought, and at the next field trip into town, I bought six hearty short ribs, a package of baby bella mushrooms, and a bottle of Jim Beam. I seared the ribs in a little corn oil in a Dutch oven, removed them, added the mushrooms, then added a bunch of small shallots a friend had given me. I returned the ribs to the pot, added 2 cups of beef broth and 1/2 cup of bourbon. Covered and simmered for about two hours. Then, I removed the ribs, added yet another 1/2 cup of Jim Beam, cooked another three or four minutes, stirring up all the goodness, thickened the sauce with a little roux, and cooked a bit more. Served at once, accompanied by a few scoops of roasted potatoes, carrots and red onions. Quite nice.

A fatty dish, short ribs aren't something to consume on a regular basis. But the bourbon gave the sauce a marvelous, hearty note, and a little nip added to reductions for beef will take the ordinary one step beyond.

Image from www.jimbeam.com

Future Iron Chef. Current NCC Cover Boy.

WILL ALEX EVER FORGIVE US?

Read all about Aunt Theresa's Holiday cookie bake in the December/January issue of North Country Cooking.

Russian Tea Cakes

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1 cup butter, or 1/2 butter and 1/2 margarine

1/2 cup sifted powdered sugar

1 tsp. vanilla

2 1/4 cups flour

1/4 tsp. salt

3/4 cup finely chopped nuts

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Mix all ingredients together except the nuts. Add nuts last. Chill dough and then roll into balls. Place on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees until set but not brown, about 10 minutes. They should just be turning brown around the bottom edge of the ball. While they are still warm, roll in confectioner's sugar.

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Recipe and photo by Theresa Perron-Janowski.

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Cheesecake, Part Two

For our cross-cultural cheesecake, we used a blend of ricotta and cream cheese, along with a sour cream topping. We decided against separating the eggs, which we beat and added gently to the cheeses, sugar, and vanilla. The almonds we crushed into a crust; the chunks of white and semi-sweet chocolate we mixed with one-third of the cheese mixture and layered at the bottom of the cake.

Baked in a spring form pan at 275 degrees for 80 minutes, removed from the oven and topped with the sour cream and sugar mixture and the candied fruit. Bake another ten minutes. Cool on a wire rack, run a knife around the edge, then chill overnight in the refrigerator. Release from the pan and complete decorating (we piped on the 'vines' of green translucent icing). Served with dollops of simple raspberry sauce (berries cooked down with sugar for 12 minutes, a little Triple Sec added at the end. I like this far better strained of seeds.)

I was struck by how much the cake's texture resembled those my mother had made early in her baking career, when, perhaps, she'd been working from recipes more Sicilian in nature. I wish I'd paid more attention to the virtual vats of cheesecake she'd pull out of the oven on a regular basis. At any rate, there's inspiration to try again. Next time, we might use all white chocolate, or skip the chocolate layer altogether. Maybe lighten the crust with flour.

Someday, we'll get it just right.

Cheesecake

MY DAUGHTERS, ELIZABETH AND MARION, are headed home from UVM today, and tomorrow we'll bake a cassata, among other niceties, for the Thanksgiving table. I haven't quite settled on a recipe.

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Truth be told, I much prefer the smooth, rich taste of cream cheese over ricotta in a cake. My mother, Josephine Berretta Buel, who could have been a stand in for Rita Hayworth, only with darker hair and eyes, made the most luscious cheesecake imaginable. Not, though, with ricotta.

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For this holiday, I want something silky and familiar, but with a more traditional Sicilian flair, and the jewelry of candied fruit as well. I want a cake that's a feast for the eyes. After all, we have a reputation to uphold.

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We'll scour the cookbooks this afternoon and report back.

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Postscript: We didn't find a recipe we'll use straight off, so we're making one up. We'll beat 3 packages of cream cheese with 1 cup of sugar and 2 teaspoons vanilla, maybe add a cup of sour cream (we'll see how we feel), blend in 2 cups of whole milk ricotta, beat in egg yolks, then fold the mixture gently with the beaten whites. Bake in a low oven in a spring-form pan atop a crust of crushed almonds (a nod to my mother). We're debating the chocolate layer, as there's some objection to that at present. And we'll adorn the whole with candied fruits. Film at 11.

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Irish Apple Cake

Submitted for your approval -- what we'll be baking this dark, rainy Saturday afternoon. Here's a wish the skies are sunnier in your world.

Irish Apple Cake

This simple, satisfying dessert is sure to please and quick to prepare.

1 stick of butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 Tbsp. vanilla extract
3 tsp. ground cinnamon
2 large eggs
1/4 cup milk
1-1/2 cups all purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
2 or 3 apples
1 Tbsp. lemon juice
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter and lightly flour a 9-inch spring form pan. Set aside.
Peel and finely chop the apples — Gala are lovely, but Cortland, Golden Delicious, Granny Smiths, and Empire appear in many recipes. Place in a small bowl and toss with the lemon juice. Set aside.

Cut the butter into pieces and place in a large bowl. Beat until creamy. Add the sugars, and beat until mixture is light and fluffy. Add the vanilla extract, cinnamon, eggs, and milk, and beat again until thoroughly mixed. Sift the flour with the baking powder and gently beat into the mixture until well blended. Do not, however, over beat. Add the apples, raisins, and walnuts and mix with a large spoon or spatula.

Spoon the batter — it will be stiff — into the spring form pan and smooth the top. Bake at 350 degrees until a skewer inserted into the center comes out clean, about 40 minutes (check the cake after 35, just to be sure). Cool in pan on rack for ten minutes. Loosen the edge with a knife and release the rim. Allow to cool, or serve while still warm with a scoop of ice cream. Wrap well in plastic to keep cake moist.

Photo by Elizabeth Brown.

Plucky's New Digs

PLUCKY is one lucky chick. She and her fellow feathered friends will winter nicely in the new coop built for them by Kevin Daly of Kirby, Vermont -- gobbling up the best chicken grub in these parts, gossiping, watching their favorite reality shows (they love "The Real Henpeckers of the Delmarva Peninsula"), doing a little needlepoint in the evenings . . . and of course handing over the occasional egg.


And what does Plucky and her gang have to do with anything? Well, very little. But if I'd titled this entry appropriately, I'd lose at least a few of you.


I've been feeling a little peaked lately. Kind of stressed out. No 'me' time. Eating whatever's hanging around. Much as I love cornbread, subsisting on squares of it swallowed down with lukewarm coffee for a day and half is probably not wise. Last night I needed a something more.

Enter the chicken livers.

Now, I don't eat them regularly. They are the stuff of solitary dining, as a dish of chicken livers is not something anyone I know requests to be served. But I do now and then actually crave them, the way I crave steak, or fish, or the occasional Baby Ruth bar. And while I'm not a nutritionist, I've often felt that our cravings frequently register some sort of need.

So, the chicken livers. For those of you who are still with me, here is how I prepare them. Rinse them in cold water. Discard any that are not firm -- I am ruthless about this. Anything spongy or falling apart gets tossed. Cut away the little tendons. Now place what's left in a bowl and cover with milk. Allow to soak for 20 to 30 minutes.

Drain and pat dry well. Dredge gently in flour seasoned with salt and pepper. Dip in an egg wash, then back they go again in the flour (I prefer just flour, though you could add breadcrumbs for a more substantial coating).

Heat a little corn oil in a skillet over medium high heat. When warm but not too hot, add the livers in a single layer. Cook, turning occasionally, until golden brown. Remove to a plate, salt lightly, eat immediately.

My husband liked chicken livers. I'd make a simple gravy for them after cooking -- pour out most of the oil, toss in a tablespoon plus a little more of flour. Stir and cook just a minute, add a cup and a half of milk, mix all together well and bring to a mild simmer. Season well with salt and pepper. Melt in a little butter, too, if you like.

So there you have it. Fried chicken livers. Of course, there's sauteed chicken livers, and liver with onions and rice . . . but this might be just enough for a Friday morning. As for Plucky, her liver is not in jeopardy.

Photo by Gretchen Daly.

NO CUTTLEFISH FOR ME, THANKS

As luck would have it last night, I stumbled upon the second half of an episode of Andrew Zimmern's Bizarre Foods devoted to Sicilian cooking. Featured on the show was a well-known chef and cooking school owner, Eleonara Consoli, who invited the TV host into her home for a lesson. That home, her website declares, is a "typical 18th Century" Sicilian house, set "in the pleasant atmosphere of the volcano," and surrounded by vineyards, orchards, and lemon and orange groves. As Ms. Consoli poured a little olive oil into a skillet to prepare a dish, Zimmern teased her, "So, is that French oil, Greek?" His hostess fairly glared at him. Of course it was pressed from the olives grown on the fertile hillsides of Etna.

I don't speak Italian, and Ms. Consoli doesn't seem to speak a lot of English (one page of her site proclaims: "Sfizi & Capricci --in this web site section you will find, as soon as possible,
ideas and advices to buy using your fantasy and create through the stoves . . . ") and her books, part of the Sicilian cooking canon, are untranslated if not outright unavailable. But we do have the massive 1200 page "The Silver Spoon" to guide us through some of the more 'bizarre' foods that Zimmern featured on the show. No recipe for cuttlefish eggs, perhaps, but one for cuttlefish au gratin might suffice; also, nothing listed that could replace the Sicilian speciality, tuna sperm -- the testicles of the great fish, which, apparently, tastes like fish or chicken liver. On this, I am willing to take others at their word.

Sicilian cooking varies from Italian in a number of ways, given Spanish, Greek, and Arab influences upon the cuisine. Rice, not the staple of the north, was at one time a dish for invalids; beef is a rarity; rabbit is served as often as chicken. What comes from the sea is highly prized. And nothing is wasted.

Another well-known book of Sicilian cuisine is Wanda and Giovanna Tornabene's "La Cucina Sicilian di Gangivecchio," which also grew out of a cooking school. Lucky for us, a beautifully illustrated English translation is available. It features a simple recipe for cassata, the famous Sicilian cheesecake made with ricotta. These treats, decorated with candied fruits and layered, frequently, with chocolate, are feasts for the eyes and appetites. Our Thanksgiving table will feature one this year.

Kingdom Cooking | Seven Days

NORTH COUNTRY COOKING making news! Thanks to Seven Days writers Suzanne Podhaizer and Alice Levitt for this, which appears in this week's Side Dishes column.

Kingdom Cooking Seven Days

What with the media blitz around Hardwick, the Northeast Kingdom has made a name for itself in recent years as a foodie haven. The logical next development: a homegrown publication to cover the bounty. With the debut of North Country Cooking, editor Denise Brown has produced just that.

Brown had two pilot issues of the bimonthly magazine distributed free to gauge interest before the release of the October-November edition, which is available for $1.50 at bookstores and markets all over the Northeast Kingdom. Annual subscriptions cost $18 ($9 for seniors).

A Lyndonville resident and writing instructor at Lyndon State College, Brown says her project is targeted at “people who enjoy cooking, enjoy being in the kitchen and feeding their families well, but who don’t want to spend a huge amount of money.” The current cover story discusses the practice of turkey hunting. Other features include a piece by Susan Greenall, author of Vermonters’ Guide to Gathering, Growing & Cooking with Local Foods, about using roses in the kitchen; a profile of Eden Ice Cider; and sections about bread, pickles and pumpkins. “My goal is to keep the magazine useful but beautiful and to have lots of good recipes; to make it reader friendly,” says Brown.

On Basil

BASIL

There in Fiesole it was always fresh

In the laneway where the spry grandfather

Tipped you his smile in the earliest wash

Of sunlight, piling strawberries high and higher

In a fragile pyramid of edible air.

Light down the years, the same sun rinses your dark

Hair over and over with brightness where

You kneel to stir the earth among thyme and chard,

Rosemary and the gathering of mints,

The rough leaf picked for tea this summer noon,

The smooth one saved for pesto in the winter,

For the cold will come, though you turn to me soon,

Your eyes going serious green from hazel,

Your quick hand on my face the scent of basil.

----- Gibbons Ruark

Born in Raleigh, North Carolina in 1941, Gibbons Ruark grew up in Methodist parsonages in various towns in the eastern part of the state. Educated in North Carolina public schools and at the Universities of North Carolina and Massachusetts, he has published his poems widely for over forty years in magazines like The New Republic, Poetry, The New Yorker and Ploughshares. His work has won him numerous awards, including three NEA Poetry Fellowships, a Pushcart Prize and the 1984 Saxifrage Prize for Keeping Company. His poem "John Clare's Finches," first published in The New Republic, appears in The Best American Poetry 2009. Among his eight collections, the most recent are Passing Through Customs: New and Selected Poems (LSU Press, 1999) and Staying Blue (Lost Hills Books, 2008). After forty years of teaching, he has retired to his birthplace of Raleigh, where he lives with his wife Kay.

SO WHAT DID I MAKE for dinner last night? Reservations. It was definitely a 'get me the heck out of the house' kind of night.

We drove out of town, since there's not a whole lot of anything in town, and dined at a little Italian place where the food is generally, well, adequate. My expectations were reasonable, and a glass of pinot noir fairly satisfied most of them, given the sort of week it had been.

I ordered the eggplant parmigiana, and was pleasantly surprised when served the plate of thin slices lightly breaded and fried to just the right amount of crispness.

But the sauce. The sauce. Ketchup cut with Ragu. Kind of sad.

I'm a bit of a stickler about sauce. I like what I like. I don't like it sweet. I don't want it thick enough to plaster a wall. I don't want carrots or rutabagas juiced or pureed into the pot. I want simple: tomatoes, onion, garlic, basil.

Fresh sauces are another subject of course. And we could write a book about meat sauces. So, for today, a quick and dirty primer on everyday marinara.

One of the best sauces I've made lately started with a very finely chopped onion sauteed until tender in olive oil in the bottom of a heavy pot. To this I added quite a handful of dried basil (yes, fresh is better -- added at the end -- but let's face it, sometimes you go dried -- do you think that people all over Italy only use fresh?). I let it warm in the oil until it was marvelously fragrant. Then I added five cans of tomatoes -- different brands, each bringing something to the mix. I probably added a little wine, but as W. C. Fields said, "I enjoy cooking with wine . . sometimes I even add it to the food." (Sometimes a cup or more of broth goes in, if the entree warrants such an addition.)

Lots of crushed black pepper, I'm sure, as I like lots of crushed black pepper. Healthy pinches of red pepper, too. And I let all this simmer for about 40 minutes, stirring often. That's all. Not all morning. Not two hours. Forty minutes tops. At the end, I adjust the seasonings and add a healthy bit of extra virgin olive oil.

I don't add sugar. Not 'never' but almost never. Sometimes, just at the very end, if the tomatoes are simply too acidic and the cooking and spices can't mitigate the sting. But almost never.

And there's the everyday sauce.

As for the photo: that's my dog, Gustav. He hates sugar in the sauce, too.

Duck, Duck, Goose

THE INTELLIGENT WOMAN, writes Sarah Field Splint in her instructive 1928 Procter & Gamble book, The Art of Cooking and Serving, "fits her service to her pocketbook and strength." This advice comes in the chapter, "Table Service in the Servantless House."

Strangely, I find myself in that category, having foolishly allowed my children to grow up and explore lives of their own, and while the dogs are well-meaning, the lack of opposable thumbs does limit their dexterity. And they can never seem to remember on which side of the plate the salad fork should rest.

But I digress. Ms. Splint, in her inimitable wisdom, offers a variety of menus for those households "with a maid" and those without, suggests that cold fried chicken and watercress sandwiches make in part a lovely picnic-motor lunch, and apparently feels that no "occasion" is celebrated adequately without oysters on the half-shell.

Those oysters appear in her Christmas menu, which, we should add, does not come with a note on whether it's something a "servantless" hostess should attempt. Submitted for your approval, then, is what you might have served on Christmas Day, had you been at work in the kitchen, or supervising your staff, 90 years ago:

Oysters on the Half-Shell

Stuffed Celery, Ripe Olives

Cream of Mushroom Soup

Bread Sticks

Roast Duck or Goose, Fried Apples

Glace Sweet Potatoes, Creamed Cauliflower

Dinner Rolls, Currant Jelly

Hearts of Lettuce Salad

Mince Pie, French Ice Cream

Nuts, Mints

Coffee

What a lovely menu. Not a spiral-cut ham in sight. While I've never served duck or goose on Christmas Day myself, I do believe this season I will try. Maybe a tradition will be born.

Confidential to Joyce M -- the confit was utterly delicious. Many thanks.

Fideos a la marinera, sort of

A VERY SUCCESSFUL TAKE on the recipe from New Tapas: I used shrimp only, which I sauteed separately in garlic and butter and added just before serving, and substituted vegetable bouillon for water when cooking the pasta (gemelli, a fine choice for this dish). Left out the tomatoes and put them on a salad to accompany, and traded a sweeter yellow pepper for the green. A Covey Run Riesling worked well, and was marvelously potable alongside the finished meal. Spiced the dish with some ground rosemary and basil and lots of pepper, then added perhaps 2/3 cup of heavy cream at the very end. End result, very delicious.

As you can see, I am constitutionally incapable of following a recipe exactly as written. Hope you are as well.

Bar hopping through Spain

IF THIS BEAUTIFUL BOOK doesn't get your juices going, you need a vacation, my friend. How about Madrid as a starting point? Then on to Seville, and San Sebastian?

Simple, authentic ingredients -- everything from eggs to anchovies, beans to bacon, chickpeas to spicy chorizo -- quickly prepared into small dishes that tease the appetite -- wonderful inspiration for party fare, for those evenings when you want a little of this, a little of that, or for a new twist on familiar entrees.

Tonight, I'll try a take on Fideos a la marinera, though I'm leaving out the cuttlefish . . . pasta with onion, green peppers, tomatoes, and garlic, enhanced with shrimp, cod, clams, or some of each, depending on what looks fresh. Fry up the chopped vegetables in some olive oil. Add some white wine and reduce. Soften a few threads of saffron in boiling water. Add 4 cups of water and the saffron to the vegetables, simmer for 15 minutes. Add 8 ounces short pasta and whatever fish or seafood you like -- you'll cook this something like risotto, stirring often but gently, until the pasta is tender and the fish cooked through. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Will report back in the morning.

NEW TAPAS: Culinary Travels with Spain's Top Chefs. --Fiona Dunlop

Japanese Sweet and Sour Pork

INSPIRED BY VIRGINIA BENTLEY and the frost covering the ground this morning: a quick sweet and sour pork with a Japanese twist.

Toss 1 pound bite-sized pork with 1 tablespoon soy sauce. Set aside.

Saute chopped onion and green pepper, about a cup of each, in a few tablespoons of corn oil. Add 1/2 cup each sliced shiitake mushrooms and bamboo shoots and continue cooking. Salt lightly. Remove from pan and set aside. In the same pan, stir fry the pork in a bit of additional oil until browned and mostly cooked through.

In a small bowl, mix together the juice from an 8 ounce can of pineapple chunks, 2 tablespoons corn starch, 1/4 cup rice wine vinegar, 3 tablespoons soy sauce, 1 tablespoon ketchup, 1/4 cup sugar. Add to the pan and bring to a boil. Boil for one to two minutes, stirring constantly. Add the reserved vegetables and pineapple chunks; stir well, and heat through. Serve immediately with white or brown rice.

Some recipes call for the addition of pre-cooked carrots. If desired, simmer carrots in a small amount of salted water until just tender, then slice into thin coins or long diagonals. Add just before serving.

Happy Halloween

YESTERDAY, just before heading to the grocery store at 4:30, I decided I wanted chicken pot pie.

A little late in the game to make that sort of decision, perhaps. So I opted for a quick version of chicken and biscuits. Just as satisfying, though far less work.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Saute 8 ounces of sliced mushrooms in a few tablespoons of butter. Season with salt and pepper. Add 1 pound of chicken tenders. Cook until lightly browned. Add 1 cup of chicken broth, cover pan, and simmer until chicken is cooked through. Remove tenders. Stir 1 1/2 cups frozen mixed vegetables. Add 1 can condensed mushroom soup, 1 can of chicken gravy, and 12 ounces of whole milk. Stir well. Season with lots of pepper. Cover and bring to a simmer. Slice or shred chicken as desired and return to pan. Stir in 2 tablespoons of butter for added flavor or a bit of dried thyme if desired. Adjust seasonings. Heat through and keep warm.

Meanwhile, make your favorite biscuit dough or for ease, use a mix. Roll out 1/2 inch thick. Cut out 1 1/2 inch round biscuits.

Transfer chicken mixture to a buttered casserole. Top with biscuits placed around the edges. Brush biscuits with melted butter if desired.

Bake until biscuits are golden brown, about 15 to 18 minutes. Serve with a healthy appetite. An Argentinian Malbec might have seemed a strange accompaniment, but it all went down rather nicely.

There's always room at our table.

The sun is going down, the afternoon's writing nearly complete. I want a cup of tea before dinner, but what to brew? Madagascar Vanilla Red, Perfectly Pear White, Yerbe Mate Fresh Green Organic, Honey Vanilla Chamomile, White Chai, Peppermint?

Ah, there's the Red Rose.

I am something of a creature of habit.

not ready for frost on the pumpkin

The cold weather has snuck up on me. While I did put the electric blanket on the bed (as the heat somehow doesn't reach that corner of the second floor), as of yet I don't have the three cords of wood I'll need for the winter stowed in the basement. I can't reliably find matching socks in the morning, and I certainly can't be expected to face the chill without a pretty sweater dress. What's a person to do?

Pretend the garden is still flourishing. Pretend it's still sunny and warm.

So even though the tomatoes are coming from Georgia, and the eggplant has been trucked in as well, I'll be making a batch of caponata this weekend. The sweet and sour Sicilian side dish might not be the thing to set out along side a turkey pot pie, but it nestles fine with soups and panini sandwiches and makes a great topping for pasta, too.

Facing reality is highly overrated, don't you think?

Once More, With Feeling

So we lost our concentration when it came to blogging.

We could blame poor hand-eye coordination, or wardrobe malfunctions (what is appropriate blogging attire, after all?), but mostly it's a matter of sheer techno-incompetence that has had me at various times over the last months eager to take a sledgehammer to the computer screen.

I can operate any number of kitchen appliances blindfolded. I've driven tractors. I've held several positions of admittedly small importance in which, however, people of much greater importance relied on my commendable photocopying, scanning, document merging, and handling of toner cartridges. But I can't seem to work for more than an hour on my computer without pressing some misguided sequence of keys that freezes the whole shebang.

We'll try again, though blogging requires manipulation of a series of buttons and tabs, a number of which are a complete mystery to me. I'm sure one of them should be labeled, "Hey, Denise! Press here to ruin your afternoon."

Thank goodness for pen and paper.

Okay, I'm a little punchy.

This weekend I've been pulling together the articles for our premiere issue; among them is Ruth Allard's neat piece on Depression era foods, "Care for a Lard and Sugar Sandwich?" Ruth interviewed a number of folks who recalled not only those lard sandwiches, but homemade root beer and switchel, popcorn eaten with milk as cereal, potatoes served up three times a day, and ice chips collected by youngsters following the 'ice man' as he traveled from house to house.

We have Nat Tripp writing about asparagus; Joyce Mandeville on rhubarb; and Susan Millar-Williams on cornbread. Virginia Downs waxes nostalgic about morels and fiddleheads; Bill Biddle talks about goose hunting with Sharon Wilson, who left teaching and "picked up a gun." (Giving the educators among us pause for reflection.) Isobel P. Swartz urges us to beat our swords into plowshares, while our wine goddess, Laurie-Beth Dixon, leads her followers through South American vineyards in search of affordable delights.

Eric Paris is on board with the latest farmers' market report. Carla Occaso helps you decide where in the Northeast Kingdom to hold your wedding. We'll have features on kids in the kitchen and the perils and pleasures of cooking for one. And summer recipes to savor.

None of which, however, calls for lard.

Springing ahead

The season is changing, the snow on the hill behind the house is melting, and the brighter sunshine invigorates the spirit. And keeping stride, we're making wonderful progress toward publishing our first issue in June. Great local writers are on board, a talented design team is at work, and I'm testing recipes! On tap this weekend: all things strawberry, including an elegant ice cream that requires no machine, based on a recipe of my mother's, who would have delighted in this project. Challenges abound though: how to keep the heavy cream to a minimum, and also, eliminate the raw egg whites my mother used years ago, when we weren't so worried about salmonella. But as tasks go, this one will be welcomed and cherished. And with luck, delicious as well.

Image courtesy of www.freedigitalphotos.net.

Carrot Cake, Your Healthy Diet Friend

After a holiday season that might best be described as caloric, I find myself filling out my jeans just a bit more assertively than usual. And yet, the baker in us is determined to bake on. The sweet tooth continues its demands for satisfaction. What's a nibbler to do?

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Enter my daughter Marion's suggestions for healthier versions of favorite recipes. Try replacing half the fat in cakes or muffins with apple sauce, or using egg substitute for whole fresh eggs to cut cholesterol. Sneak in some whole grain flour instead of white. See if you can cut the sugar by one-third. Saute chopped meats or vegetables in a bit of olive oil instead of butter. And opt for low-fat milk instead of cream in soup or pasta dishes.

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Marion and her sister, Elizabeth, are off to UVM, but left behind for me was half a carrot cake and the bare bones of a recipe scribbled on a bit of note paper: 4 eggs, 1 1/4 c. veg. oil, 2 c. sugar, 2 c. flour, 2 tsp. baking soda, 2 tsp. baking powder, 1/2 tsp. salt, 2 tsp. cinnamon, 3 c. grated carrots, 1 c. pecans. 350 degrees. 40-50 minutes. I know olive oil went into the batter, sugar was reduced, plump golden raisins were added to the mix, and white flour eschewed entirely for whole wheat. And while it's hardly a balanced meal, I did cut myself a large slice and call it breakfast this morning.

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When your daughter makes a delicious cake, you're allowed.

Best Wishes for 2009!

May your most delicious dreams come true.