Happy New Year

The new year is upon us and most people I know are happy to see the back of 2010. The start of a new year is the time to wipe the slate clean, put past disappointments or challenges behind us, and look ahead. For me, I expect the new year to bring time spent with family and friends, much yarn to knit, many recipes to try and new books to read.

As winter settles upon me, I've decided to let the blog join the bears for a time of hibernation. I have enjoyed writing about knitting, cooking and reading, but it's time to take a break for now. I thank all those who have followed these musings over the past few months, and I'll let you know when the blog returns.

For now, I wish you the best of new years and nothing but blue skies ahead as we all point the compass forward.

Debbye

Making merry

I love Christmas trees and decorations, I really do. What I don't love is the arduous process of dragging everything out, arranging it in a pleasing holiday manner, then packing it all back up again.

My process is particularly not fun because all my decorations are packed away at E-Z Store about five miles from here. There is one trip to get the stuff, another to take back the empty boxes, another to retrieve the boxes after Christmas, and yet another to take the stuff back for the year. That's four trips, minimum.

Then there's the process of decorating the tree. Although I approach the tree determined to just hang the ornaments and not obsess, I do get a bit fussy making sure each ornament is placed on each branch with the right size here and the right color there. That is not to say that I obsess.

I will say that I love my Christmas tree. It's tall and narrow, sits in a nice wood-like planter box, and is the perfect size and shape for my living room. I was especially happy to find it in a great Christmas shop at Deep Creek Lake because it was pre-lit. Note the emphasis on "was." Last year, after all the decorations were on the tree, half the lights went out. This was not a happy moment. So I'm back to winding strings of lights round and round the tree, which is not my favorite holiday activity.

Any bah-humbug aspects of Christmas decorating are outweighed by the fun of rediscovering favorites like my beloved Woof-n-Poof collection, which can (and in some years, did) make my place festive all on its own. It's also fun to discover new things scored at after-Christmas sales, although I don't do that as much as I used to. I have enough stuff to decorate two places as it is.

And then there's the finished product: my home decked out with fragrant red and green candles, merry Santas and reindeer, and a twinkly tree festooned with favorite ornaments collected over the years.

And that is when the Christmas spirit really kicks in.

A "Top Chef" Experience

Yesterday, I received a slightly belated Christmas gift from my friend, Meg: lunch at Volt in Frederick, Maryland. While lunch was just one leg of a perfectly wonderful day of shopping, laughing and introducing Meg to Frederick, it was the undisputed highlight of the day.

I freely admit that my initial motivation for choosing Volt for my experience gift was a wee bit shallow: I watched chef/owner Bryan Voltaggio come in second (robbed, IMO, by his younger, snarkier brother) on "Top Chef" last year. Not many of the Top Chefs' restaurants are within reach, and I really wanted to go to one. I watch TV; so sue me.

It didn't hurt that Bryan himself is easy on the eye (not that I expected a sighting, especially at lunch), and I admired his commitment to creating seasonal menus that locally source as much food as possible. And if he made it to the finals of "Top Chef," the food would have to be good, right?

So did Volt live up to my expectations? Well, yes, it did. And that is a huge understatement. The experience started off great when we walked up to the entrance of the 1890s mansion. Inside, all was sleek white linen and dark wood; very cool, yet very warm and comfortable. Many young servers moved about the room, efficient and attentive, dispensing bubbly or still water, slender breadsticks seasoned with fennel and sea salt and, a bit later, calamata olive rolls so good they made you want to slap your grandmother.

We had the three-course lunch and every plate was a vision of food art. Not fussy, not prissy, but beautifully prepared and artfully presented by people who care about the food. They care about where it comes from, that it's pleasing to the eye, and that it tastes great.

There were so many colors (maroon carrot and purple beet purees, dark green Brussels sprouts and mustard greens, black Forbidden Rice) and textures (tender pork tenderloin, flaky rockfish, velvety maitake mushrooms, crunchy d'anjou pears) on each plate, and every bite was a revelation. It was, in fact, sublime.

(Since I am an amateur blogger and forgot my camera, the photo at left is from a review on the Baltimore Sun's website. While it's not one of the dishes we had, it gives an idea of the food artistry we experienced.) 

So, Bryan V. lived up to his "Top Chef" performance and delivered a truly memorable meal, made all the better by a perfect fall day and a good friend to share it with. Thanks, Meg.

Peelers and blenders and whisks, oh my!

I'm as big a gadget-holic as the next cook. I have been known to stand mesmerized in front of the giant gadget wall (giant wall of gadgets, not wall of giant gadgets) at Bed, Bath and Beyond, contemplating the latest labor-saving devices from OXO.

I love my colorful whisk from Kuhn-Rikon, who also makes great paring knives. I can't live without my lime reamer (especially when preparing ceviche), and don't even think about getting between me and my Unicorn pepper mill.

Same goes for small kitchen appliances. I can't make a pot of soup without my Bamix immersion blender (well, I could, but why would I want to?). I use my electric tea kettle daily, and I am finally convinced that grinding coffee beans fresh in my little Black & Decker grinder does, indeed, make for a better cup of coffee. I am even considering upgrading my grinding apparatus with one of these. 

As much as I appreciate a useful kitchen gadget or small appliance, I have noticed a trend among certain retailers toward gizmos that are highly specialized, very expensive, and large. It's one thing to have a gadget that does only one thing, such as extract juice from a lime, when it's cheap and easy to store in the gadget drawer. It's an altogether different proposition to have a gadget that does one thing, such as extract juice from an orange, when it costs $499.95 and requires its own garage.

My favorite new gadget for the over-accessorized cook is the Breville Pie Maker. With a price tag of $79.95, its sole purpose is to make cute little pies. It's a close relative of another head-scratcher, the Ebelskiver Pancake Pan. I'm also bemused by the Raclette Pan. I don't know what raclette is, much less why I would need to spend $139.95 for a special pan to prepare it. And how about that Sous Vide Professional Immersion Circulator? For a cool $799.99, you, too, can cook like Michael Voltaggio.

I confess that I secretly long for the classic Kitchen-Aid stand mixer (in red) and the mighty Magimix 5200XL food processor that comes with about a zillion attachments. Only two things save me from myself: I would have to enclose my balcony to provide a home for these behemoths, and I don't bake or cook for enough people to justify their size or price.

So I will be content with my favorite new gadget this year: the VeggieChop. Powered by my own brute strength, small enough to tuck inside a soup pot for storage, and coming in under $30, it gets the job done (very well, in fact) and it's cute.

What more can you ask from your culinary toys tools?

The perfect combination

One of my favorite things about knitting is the infinite variety of yarn fiber, color and texture. Sometimes, though, this embarrassment of riches can create knitter's block when I can't decide which fiber, color or texture is right for a particular pattern.

I encountered knitter's block this week when I found a great new pattern for a scarf. I plundered the stash collection and hit the first block. I could not find anything that seemed quite right. How can this be? I have so much yarn in the stash collection that I will have to make provisions for it in my will. All I make is scarves, so all the yarn I buy is destined to end up as one. How can I not have yarn for a scarf?

Finally, I unearthed a lovely silk-wool blend in shades of grey. It seemed just right, so I cast on and began to knit merrily away. About four inches in, I hit the second block: the yarn, albeit lovely, was not working. The color and texture were working against the pattern. They were, in fact, at war.

Yesterday morning, in a fit of pique after I gave in to the inevitable and unraveled the scarf, I decided to reorganize the stash collection. This activity always kicks up conflicting emotions, ranging from "Oh, my God, where did all this yarn come from?" to "Oh, wow, I forgot I had that." During this reorg (there have been many), I found the perfect yarn for my new scarf: Blue Face Leicester wool, one of my all-time favorites, in muted shades of green, plum and dark blue.

I have made several scarves from BFL yarn and there is nothing quite like it. It's hard to believe something so gorgeous comes from an animal that, it must be said, is not going to win any beauty contests. It sure does produce some fantastic wool, though, so it is a noble beast in my book.

So the perfect combination of pattern and yarn has been achieved and another beautiful scarf is on the needles.

As if I need another scarf, but that's another story.

The e-book question

In July, Amazon.com reported that, for the first time, sales of e-books for the Kindle topped sales of hard cover books.

In the past few months, makers of e-readers have pulled off an impressive hat trick: more models, better technology and lower prices.

There are now Nook bars at Barnes & Noble stores so you can try before you buy. Amazon offers multiple Kindle models at various sizes and price points. The Apple iPad combines an e-reader with many other cool functions, albeit at a significantly higher price.

All this e-reader proliferation has a lot of my friends debating the e-book v. printed book issue. In discussing the pros and cons of each, the biggest question seems to be this: Can an electronic device replace the satisfaction of holding a book in one's hands, turning the pages, maybe sniffing a little ink?

When I ordered my Kindle a few months ago, this concern did not occur to me. My primary motivation in going Kindle was to cut down on the number of books I bring into my home. The situation was out of control. To make room for new volumes, I lugged books to The Book Thing, a worthy concept that, unfortunately, involved a long drive to a sketchy neighborhood. I toted books into the library and ran like hell before the librarians could tell me to take them back. I took books to work and set them out with a FREE sign.

When all this purging started to cut too deep into the literary bone, I started thinking about the Kindle as a way to add to my library without overcrowding my bookshelves. After long consideration, I took the leap and never looked back. But, like the transition from CD player to iPod or land line to cell phone, moving from printed books to e-books is a personal journey that some will make faster than others.

In my own journey, I discovered that holding a book in my hands and turning paper pages doesn't enhance the reading experience. For me, reading is not about the book; it's about the story.

The one true cornbread

There was only one bread worthy of accompanying last weekend's meal of Ancho Pork Medallions, black beans and mixed greens: cornbread. And by me, there is only one way to make cornbread.

I'm not sure if my way can be called Southern-style. Some regions may have their own ideas. I can say that everybody in my family makes cornbread the same way, so it's safe to say it's East Tennessee-style.

There are a few simple rules for the one true cornbread:
1. No flour, so sugar. Cornbread with flour and sugar is corn cake.
2. Buttermilk. Cornbread made with plain milk is for sissies.
3. Crisco. OK, bacon grease is better, but who among us keeps a can of bacon grease in the fridge any more? You can't back off any more than Crisco, though. Vegetable oil will not get the job done. I keep one of those tiny cans of Crisco for this single purpose.
4. A cast-iron skillet. Nothing else gets hot enough to make a perfect golden-brown crust. I make cornbread in one of two Lodge skillets: big (10") or small (8").

The one true cornbread is easy to make because it's stripped down to the essentials:
2 cups corn meal (1 cup for small)
1 tsp baking soda (1/2-1 tsp for small)
1 tsp salt (1/2-1 tsp for small)
1/2 tsp sugar (if you must)
2 cups buttermilk (1 cup for small)
2 eggs (1 for small)

I like to mix the dry ingredients, then the egg and buttermilk, then both together. Stir the batter just until it's well mixed. Don't beat it to death.

Put a good-sized dollop of Crisco in the cast-iron skillet, enough to coat the bottom when melted. In the oven or on the stove top, get the skillet screaming hot, then pour in the batter. It should sizzle in a most appetizing way.

Bake at 450 for about 20-25 minutes or until golden brown. Let it cool in the skillet a few minutes, then turn out onto a plate. Cut in wedges, carefully split them, and bring on the butter.

And there, my friends, you have the one true cornbread.

More cool weather cooking

It's too soon to tell if daily temps above 90 degrees are behind us, but I'm ready for some fall food.

This weekend, "fall food" means pork and beans. Not to be confused with Bush's Pork-N-Beans, my version consists of Ancho Pork Medallions and a pot of Cuban-style black beans slow cooked with tomatoes and roasted poblano peppers.

Veering sideways a little from the Latin theme, I will also cook up a pot of mixed greens: mustard, turnip and kale sauteed in a little hot chili oil, simmered until nice and tender, then dressed with apple cider vinegar. If I'm feeling fancy, I'll use balsamic vinegar.

I'm busy lining up more fall recipes for the cooler days ahead. I've already flagged half a dozen hearty soup recipes that I couldn't even look at over the scorching summer. Butternut Squash with Apples and Cider Cream and White Bean with Chorizo and Kale from Sunday Soup are just two that sound great.

I will also keep a dish of roasted vegetables (Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, carrots, etc.) in the fridge for after-work snacking. They are so much better for my so-called waistline than chips and salsa.

Roast pork, hearty bean soups, butternut squash: more reasons to love this time of year.

In praise of the Honey Crisp

Autumn is my favorite time of year. I love the chill in the morning air, the clear blue sky and the gold leaves beginning to appear in the trees. After the dreadful heat and humidity of this summer, I love all those things even more this year.

I'm also ready for a culinary change in season. As much as I've enjoyed tomatoes, cucumbers and other summer staples, I'm ready to move on to fall food. I've already made a big batch of roasted Brussels sprouts, golden beets and carrots.

Today, however, I am all about one of the fleeting joys of fall: the Honey Crisp apple. Like asparagus in the spring, Honey Crisps are highly seasonal here in Maryland. Not every supermarket has them (I've found them at Wegmans and Fresh Market, no big surprise), but they are worth tracking down.

In general, I am not a huge fan of the apple. I think I like the idea of apples more than the actual eating of them. For one thing, I am extremely picky about the taste (tart) and texture (granite hard). Then there's the whole peel and core thing to contend with.

The Honey Crisp overcomes all obstacles. For my money, it is the Super Apple. The flavor is exquisitely sweet-tart and the texture is even more crisp than Granny Smiths. I have laid in a small supply and am looking forward to having them for dessert with a small wedge of Grandma Singleton's Apple Pie Cheese.

That's right: Apple Pie Cheese. I found it yesterday at Wegmans, home of unique and tasty items for the dedicated foodie. I happened to notice it displayed with the bread, which seemed a little random to me. I would have put it with the Honey Crisps, but what do I know about food merchandising? Anyway, I found it and I believe it will make a dandy accompaniment to a few wedges of apple.

Cool temps, blue skies and Honey Crisp apples. My favorite time of year is here.

The best time of the year for readers

Fall usually brings out the best of the year's books, and my Amazon Wish List is packed with new releases coming out just about every week over the next three months.

As usual, there is the big blockbuster novel that threatens to land on my Overhyped List. I'll give Freedom by Jonathan Franzen a pass, since the book probably delivers the goods. It's not really my cup of tea, but it appears to be worthy of all the praise it's getting. Although, that has backfired on Franzen in the past, as he discussed in a recent NPR interview.

My wish list has more variety than usual, although mysteries dominate. Here's what I'm looking forward to reading this fall:

The Widower's Tale, Julia Glass (audio version already downloaded to the iTouch)
Impartial Witness, Charles Todd (a new Bess Crawford mystery set in WWI, already in progress on the Kindle)
The Distant Hours, Kate Morton (The House at Riverton was one of my favorite books a couple of years ago)
Autobiography of Mark Twain, Volume 1 (this will be a huge best-seller, after a 100-year wait)
A Stranger in Mayfair, Charles Finch (a Charles Lenox mystery, which are usually great fun)
Fall of Giants, Ken Follett (this will be a door-stop of a book, so it may not make the cut; looks interesting, though)
Aran Knitting, Alice Starmore (got to have at least one knitting book, and this is a back-in-print classic)
Road to Darjeeling, Deanna Rayburn (a total guilty pleasure; I fairly swooned over the last book in the Lady Julia Grey series)
Portobello, Ruth Rendell (a new Ruth Rendell is always worth checking out)

So there you have it. Looks like I have my reading cut out for me for the foreseeable future.