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.