Teacher of the Year

I have something to brag about.

It doesn't involve food. But, I'm going to write about it anyway. Because it's my blog...and I can. So there. ;-)

A few weeks ago, I learned that I was nominated for a teacher of the year award. Each year, the top 8% of seniors from 20 area high schools are given a Silver Medallion Award for their academic achievements. These students also name a teacher from their school to be recognized, but only one person is chosen by the Silver Medallion committee as Teacher of the Year

Last week, I won that award.

This is my second year being nominated by my students (in only my fourth year teaching at this high school). Confession: I was really hoping I'd win this year. BUT, I didn't really think I would. I mean, I'm still kinda new at this high school gig (having taught middle school & college for 15 years prior to this high school job). I just wasn't getting my hopes up.

As they announced the award--first listing adjectives that the students used to describe the winning teacher (the students all write recommendation letters with their nominations), then quoting from some of the letters--I started to realize that they were talking about me! Of course, the students sitting at my table were exclaiming: "That's from MY letter! I wrote THAT! It's YOU!" I looked over at my principal sitting at the next table, and she was slightly shaking her head "yes."

I was overwhelmed. Seriously, I started crying. Proof: Here's the pic that was published in my local paper.

Ok, so, that's not too flattering...but I DON'T CARE. I was SO HAPPY...and I'm NOT GOING TO APOLOGIZE for crying like a baby. And since I didn't really expect to win, I hadn't prepared anything to say (or chosen a very nice outfit to wear...sheesh!). I simply thanked the committee for choosing me and, most importantly, my students for nominating me. I said it was an honor to be their teacher and to know each of them. I meant that from the bottom of my heart. It IS an honor to be their teacher. This year's senior class, in particular, is pretty amazing. We have some awesome young people at our school, and I do feel lucky to know them.

This award means so much to me. First, it's very special because it's student-nominated. I'm not easy on my students; I make them work hard. Because of this, I am not usually everyone's "favorite" teacher. But, being popular among the students isn't all that important to me. My job is to teach them something. As an English teacher, I feel like it's my responsibility to teach them not only about literature and writing, but also about life...art & music, how to be a good college student, how to think critically, how to respect other people & their opinions, how to stand up for themselves & their beliefs, how to perfect the art of argument, how to pay attention to the world around them, how to analyze what they see & read, how to recognize & fight injustices...the list goes on and on for me. So, it means the world to me that they respect me enough to nominate me in the first place.

Just the other day, I was thinking about the nature of teaching. We put so much of ourselves into teaching...all the planning, teaching, grading, conferencing...it's never-ending. Anyone who thinks that teachers end their day at 3:00 is delusional. I grade or plan or answer students' questions in emails & tweets EVERY NIGHT, including weekends. I think about my classes CONSTANTLY. I have some of my students for English during their junior AND senior years. That means that I see them nearly every day for two years. I hear about their daily lives, their illnesses, their relationships, their successes, their heartaches, their problems. For some of them, I see them more than their parents do. I get to know them, I start to care about them, and I come to like them as "real" people, not just as my students who I have to see for 50 minutes a day. And then, they graduate and I often never hear from them again. I'm happy for them, of course, but it is a huge emotional release in May every year....and then it all starts again three months later.

Being a teacher is quite exhausting...mentally, emotionally, and physically (standing in front of a class all day is tiring, y'all!).

This award is also special to me because it means that I'm doing something right! I'm my biggest critic, and I often beat myself up over my job. I constantly evaluate and question myself: Am I doing everything I can to help my students? What can I do BETTER? Are they learning all the skill they will need in life? If not, how can I help them become better students, better workers, better thinkers, and--ultimately--better people?

It's been kind of a rough year, professionally & personally. I have questioned my career choice a few times over the last nine months, wondering if all the stress, frustration, and time is worth it. This recognition proves to me that it IS worth it. Teaching is what I am meant to do with my life. I've finally found my niche....it's being an English teacher at East Alton-Wood River High School.

And, despite everything you may have heard me complain about in the past, I LOVE IT.

Thanks again to my students for nominating me...and for doing your best work, for playing along, for laughing at my jokes, for listening to my stories, for knowing when I'm having a bad day also, for putting up with my tastes in literature & music & movies, for letting me bring my personality into my classes, for being great students & incredible people. You all rock. For real.

 

Also, CONGRATS on your accomplishments throughout high school. Best of luck to you all! <3

Thinking about Marriage, Babies, & Mac-n-Cheese

I'm getting married in 6 days.  Someone asked me recently if I thought I've rushed into it, having only been engaged for 4 months.  The answer is NO. Jerad and I talked about waiting until summer to get married but then decided there was no reason to wait, especially since Vegas would be pretty darn hot in June, and his cousin is already planning a wedding in the fall. There is really no point in waiting until next spring.

We've been living together for a few years now.  We never really "officially" started living together; he basically just started squatting at my house, staying more and more nights in a row until eventually he was there all the time.  In fact, just this week he finally changed his address. So, we figured that nothing is really going to change after we're married...except now he'll have health insurance and we can start thinking about a family. That right, folks, hell might just freeze over yet...we're talkin' babies! Not soon, but someday. I used to swear that I didn't want any kids, but I think I just hadn't yet found the right person to have them with. I do want to have babies with Jerad; he makes me feel capable and confident. Plus, I know he'll be a great pregnancy coach, father, & parenting partner.

Blogiversary & Baby Artichokes

April 15 marked my two-year blogiversary. Two years ago, inspired by the book Julie & Julia, I started cooking new recipes and writing about them here...as a way to keep myself occupied in my cable-less, internet-less (I was pilfering any stray wireless signal I could get), drafty old house and as a form of cheap(er) therapy. My first post was about Julia Child's potato & leek soup.

In December of 2006, my life had been uprooted. I had left my husband after 13 years together, including 7 years of marriage. I gave up the life we had built together; I gave up a new home (my dream house) and most of my friends. I was trying to find that elusive thing called "true happiness."

Since then, I've faithfully stuck to my cooking project...making and posting at least one new-to-me recipe a week (see my favorite recipes and posts of 2007 & 2008). I've also met several other food bloggers, joined the Foodbuzz featured publisher community, began working at Kitchen Conservatory, and gotten into the St. Louis food scene. I'm still living in that old, drafty house...but now I have direct tv and my own wireless internet access.

Have I found true happiness? Honestly, I hate to say it, but I'm not sure. These days, with my new teaching job (high school English), I simply don't have enough time to complete all of the cooking projects I'd like to. I'm almost always mentally and physically exhausted...and overwhelmed with the amount of school work (planning & grading) that I'm always behind on. Plus, my boyfriend has a work schedule that is nearly the complete opposite of mine (he manages a bar in St. Louis), so I find myself alone often.

But, I'm managing...or at least trying to. I'm trying to make time to experiment in the kitchen more often, because cooking really does calm me. It makes me feel creative and successful. I did manage to make a couple new recipes lately, including one for braised baby artichokes...

* * *

After spending four hours prepping in the kitchen at Monarch on April 11, including trimming way too many artichokes, I decided to make sauteed baby artichokes for Easter dinner. A baby artichoke isn't just a smaller artichoke; it's actually a different variety of artichoke that matures at a small size.


The best thing about baby artichokes, besides being MUCH easier to trim than those big 'uns, is that there is no choke in the middle, so you can eat the entire thing (minus some of the tough outer leaves, of course).

To prep the artichokes, I picked off the darker green petals until I reached the lighter green ones near the center. I then trimmed off the top to remove the sharp needles & peeled the stems down to the center. I cut the artichokes in half lengthwise & let them sit in a bowl of water with a couple lemons squeezed into it to prevent them from discoloring.

To cook the artichokes, I seared them in a non-stick skillet with a bit of olive oil & garlic. I added white wine, chicken broth, & fresh thyme sprigs to the pan and let the artichokes braise (covered) until they were tender. I served them with shaved aged gouda cheese & a splash of freshly-squeezed lemon juice.

A Gumbo Recipe In Memoriam

Ernest "Eric" James Martin

Yesterday would have been my Uncle Eric's 47th birthday. Sadly, Eric took his own life on September 27, 2008. He had lost his home to flooding in New Orleans after hurricane Katrina, and he just never recovered...financial or emotionally.

Eric was only about 12 years older than me, so we were kind of close when we were younger. I have lots of memories of playing together at my grandparents' house and on family vacations.

Eric and me before either his graduation or senior prom (?)

Uncle Eric was one of the most creative people I've ever known. He lived all over the country (Illinois, Florida, Los Angeles, West Virginia, New Orleans) and held a variety of interesting jobs...tee-shirt designer & screen-printer, restaurant owner & chef, landscaper. He was once an extra in a Jermaine Jackson video, which was shot in the L.A. restaurant where he waited tables (he walks by in the background at the 2-minute mark). He once drove Ziggy Marley in a limo to the MTV awards. He once gave me a huge, plastic goose lamp for Christmas and designer-label dresses for my birthday. He once corned a beef brisket, and he made the best curried chicken salad with grapes & almonds. He was once on an episode of Hollywood Squares. He had an intoxicating laugh. He had, apparently, met Vincent Price in the mid-80's.


In the few years before Katrina, I visited Eric in New Orleans a couple times. We always had too much fun hanging out. In fact, we sometimes got pretty wild dancing at the gay bars in the French Quarter or bar-hopping in the Alton area when he came back to Illinois.

After the hurricane, Eric was determined to rebuild his house. He was downright stubborn about it, always returning to New Orleans despite getting help, employment & housing from friends in San Francisco, in West Virgina, in Florida. For whatever reason, Eric just couldn't recover after losing his home, his job, his relationship, and--for the most part--his sanity.

photo of Eric's post-Katrina house that was featured in National Geographic

I can't say the news of his death came as much of a shock to me (although, Uncle David did call on the night before my birthday, and I initially thought he was calling with birthday wishes). I think I'd been expecting the call. I was devastated nevertheless...especially since my aunt Nancy, Eric's sister, had asked if he could come stay with me a year or so earlier. I said no because I was dealing with my own loss at the time (loss of my marriage, my friends, my lifestyle), and I didn't think I could provide a stable enough environment for him (I was working 3 jobs and was never home). Yet, I felt guilty for not helping him then.

While I am not typically a spiritual person, I'd like to think Eric is in a better place...that he's finally happy and content, and no longer struggling with whatever demons haunted him.

Anyway, the first time I went to see Eric in New Orleans, he greeted me and my friend Sue with a home-cooked gumbo dinner. So, in honor of Eric, I made gumbo for dinner last night.

Gumbo
adapted from Epicurious

• 1 1/2 cups unsalted butter (3 sticks)
  
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 red bell pepper, diced
• 1 green bell pepper, diced
• 1 medium yellow onion, diced
• 1 stalk celery, diced
• 2 1/2 quarts chicken stock, heated
• 1 tablespoons Creole Seasoning*
  
• 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon chili powder
• 1/2 teaspoon thyme
• 1/2 tablespoon chopped garlic
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1 pound andouille sausage, sliced 1/2-inch thick
• 1 pound chicken, cooked & chopped into bite-sized pieces
  
• 1 pound raw shrimp, peeled & deveined

* I used a pre-mixed Cajun seasoning that contained many of the same ingredients.

1. Make a roux by melting the butter in a large stockpot or dutch oven over medium heat. Whisk in the flour and cook until foaming. The mixture shouldn't clump up, but should look like a thick liquid. Add a glug or two of olive oil if it's not thin enough. Cook, stirring often, until dark mahogany, about 1/2 hour.

Don't be afraid to get your roux even darker than this!

2. Add the peppers, onion, and celery. Cook until soft, about 5 minutes. Whisk in the chicken stock (make sure it’s hot), and bring the mixture to a boil. Reduce the heat to simmer. Stir in Creole Seasoning, black pepper, crushed red pepper, chili powder, thyme, chopped garlic, bay leaves, and kosher salt. Cook, skimming fat as necessary, an additional 25 minutes.

3. Add the andouille, chicken, & shrimp and cook for approximately 15 minutes or just until the shrimp are cooked. Taste and adjust for seasoning. Serve over steamed rice.

Rest in peace, Uncle E. I miss you.

25 Random Things About Food And Me

The 25 Random Things lists are currently popular on Facebook, and today I saw that some food bloggers (like Good Stuff NW & Culinate) are making their own lists.

And since I don't have any new recipes to post (It's been fairly boring in my kitchen lately & I've been too busy to cook), I decided to post my own "About Food And Me" list.

1. I buy rotisserie chickens from the supermarket just so I can eat the crispy skin off.

2. Today, I ate mashed up avocado on toast for breakfast.

3. I could eat pasta every day.

4. I am addicted to caffeine.

5. New Orleans is my favorite food city, but I haven't been there since Hurricane Katrina. Now, it scares me.

6. I've met Tyler Florence, Morimoto, Rick Bayless, Hubert Keller, Jacques Pepin, & Diana Kennedy.

7. My favorite restaurant experience was at Tru in Chicago several years ago. The meal (with wine & tip) for two cost $500, but it was worth every penny.

8. I go through phases where I can't eat eggs. Sometimes, they gross me out.

9. I could easily be a vegetarian.

10. I have a weakness for potato chips & French fries.

11. I've eaten way too much bacon in the past couple years.

12. My dream job is to be a personal chef.

13. I have red KitchenAid counter-top appliances.

14. My boyfriend is a fabulous cook, and I completely trust him in the kitchen.

15. I wish I lived in the country so that I could have a huge garden and keep chickens.

16. I read cookbooks cover to cover like novels.

17. I haven't eaten a pre-packaged frozen meal in many years.

18. I think about food more than anything else.

19. I've come to appreciate people who hunt for food more than for sport.

20. I consider eating a hot dog a treat.

21. I only go to sporting events for the food.

22. I don't like cilantro; it tastes metallic to me, and this is apparently a genetic thing.

23. I go to grocery stores for fun.

24. Popcorn is my favorite snack.

25. I have the same kind of cookie jar on my counter that Monica had on Friends.

An Ode & A Cheesecake

This is Jerad. He is my best friend, my lover, my support, my strength, my inspiration. I couldn't have made it through these past couple years without him.

It was not, however, love at first sight. In fact, we hated each other the first time we met. I thought he was a stupid hick, and he thought I was a raging bitch. But, we worked together often and eventually became friends. After I separated from my husband, Jerad and I spent more time together. I began to fall in love with him a few months later, when he surprised me with a Valentine's Day gift...a red Kitchen Aid toaster, the perfect thing for me!

Since then, Jerad has always been there for me. He understands me better than anyone else ever has and accepts all my faults & quirky habits. He is the most attentive, caring, loving, generous person I've met. For the first time in my life, I feel like this is where I belong. Overall, I'm happier than I've ever been, and I am thankful he's a part of my life.

This is for you, buddy! Hope you had a wonderful birthday this weekend!

Tall & Creamy Cheesecake
from Dorie Greenspan's
Baking: From My Home to Yours

INGREDIENTS

For the crust:
1 3/4 cups graham cracker crumbs
3 tablespoons sugar
Pinch of salt
1/2 stick (4 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted

For the cheesecake:
2 pounds (four 8-ounce boxes) cream cheese, at room temperature
1 1/3 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
4 large eggs, at room temperature
zest & juice of 1 lemon
1 1/3 cups sour cream or heavy cream, or a combination of the two
1 cup fresh raspberries

DIRECTIONS

To make the crust:

Butter a 9-inch springform pan—choose one that has sides that are 2 3/4 inches high (if the sides are lower, you will have cheesecake batter leftover)—and wrap the bottom of the pan in a double layer of aluminum foil; put the pan on a baking sheet.

Stir the crumbs, sugar and salt together in a medium bowl. Pour over the melted butter and stir until all of the dry ingredients are uniformly moist. (I do this with my fingers.) Turn the ingredients into the buttered springform pan and use your fingers to pat an even layer of crumbs along the bottom of the pan and about halfway up the sides. Don't worry if the sides are not perfectly even or if the crumbs reach above or below the midway mark on the sides—this doesn't have to be a precision job. Put the pan in the freezer while you preheat the oven.

Center a rack in the oven, preheat the oven to 350°F and place the springform on a baking sheet. Bake for 10 minutes. Set the crust aside to cool on a rack while you make the cheesecake.

Reduce the oven temperature to 325°F.

To make the cheesecake:

Put a kettle of water on to boil.

Working in a stand mixer, preferably fitted with a paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the cream cheese at medium speed until it is soft and lives up to the creamy part of its name, about 4 minutes. With the mixer running, add the sugar and salt and continue to beat another 4 minutes or so, until the cream cheese is light. Beat in the vanilla. Add the eggs one by one, beating for a full minute after each addition—you want a well-aerated batter. Add the lemon zest & juice. Reduce the mixer speed to low and stir in the sour cream and/or heavy cream.

Put the foil-wrapped springform pan in the roaster pan.

Give the batter a few stirs with a rubber spatula, just to make sure that nothing has been left unmixed at the bottom of the bowl, and scrape half the batter into the springform pan. Sprinkle the raspberries over the batter & top with remaining batter to reach the brim of the pan. (If you have leftover batter, you can bake the batter in a buttered ramekin or small soufflé mold.) Put the roasting pan in the oven and pour enough boiling water into the roaster to come halfway up the sides of the springform pan.

Bake the cheesecake for 1 hour and 30 minutes, at which point the top will be browned (and perhaps cracked) and may have risen just a little above the rim of the pan. Turn off the oven's heat and prop the oven door open with a wooden spoon. Allow the cheesecake to luxuriate in its water bath for another hour.

After 1 hour, carefully pull the setup out of the oven, lift the springform pan out of the roaster—be careful, there may be some hot water in the aluminum foil—remove the foil. Let the cheesecake come to room temperature on a cooling rack.

When the cake is cool, cover the top lightly and chill the cake for at least 4 hours, although overnight would be better.

Serving:
Remove the sides of the springform pan— I use a hairdryer to do this (use the dryer to warm the sides of the pan and ever so slightly melt the edges of the cake)—and set the cake, still on the pan's base, on a serving platter. The easiest way to cut cheesecake is to use a long, thin knife that has been run under hot water and lightly wiped. Keep warming the knife as you cut slices of the cake.

Storing:
Wrapped well, the cake will keep for up to 1 week in the refrigerator or for up to 2 months in the freezer. It's best to defrost the still-wrapped cheesecake overnight in the refrigerator.


NOTES:

• Cheesecake, I've learned, takes a long time to make. From start to finish, it's about 8 hours. Plan accordingly.
• I couldn't find fresh raspberries (because the grocery store re-arranged the produce section and I was having a blonde moment that day), so I used frozen. This was a mistake. The thawed berries were too wet and therefore the middle of the cake didn't set.
• I had enough batter leftover to fill two ramekins. I filled each half full, added a couple pieces of Toblerone to one and a couple Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies to the other, then covered them with the remaining batter. I added the ramekins to the waterbath when there was about 30 minutes of cooking time left and let them sit in the oven with the cheesecake for the extra hour.
• OH MY! The Thin Mint mini-cheesecake was awesome! I''ll be making those again, for sure!

(I wish I was in) Florida . . . Pie

After the basement flooding drama this weekend, I've been thinking a lot about memories. I can't continue to dwell on the fact that all those photographs are gone. I have to, instead, try to remember all those vacations, parties, weddings, gatherings, births, etc. Memories...they're all I have now of that period in my life.

It wasn't just the loss of the pictures that bothers me. There was also my teddy bear, the one my aunt gave to me when I was born. He'll need to have his stuffing replaced, I'm sure, since he's soaked through and through.

I figured that most of the dishes--my parents' wedding china & my unusual tea cup collection--would be fine, would just need a good washing. However, the guys hired to work on cleaning the basement must have just thrown stuff into trash bags...a few tea cups were broken, including part of the miniature tea set I played with as a child.

Then again, I've always believed that there has to be destruction in order for there to be rebirth, renewal, and change. I've even written about that before, and that post seems eerily relevant now.

So, what does all that have to do with pie? Initially, I wondered why this week's Tuesdays with Dorie recipe (chosen by Dianne of Dianne's Dishes) was called "Florida Pie." Then, I read Dorie's explanation; this pie reminds her of vacationing in Florida with her family.

My family, too, used to vacation in Florida...Sanibel Island to be exact. I remember going there, but I don't have too many specific memories of what we did. I do remember once being at a shop where I picked an oyster out of a tank, and they opened it up to find a pearl, which I then had set into the jewelry of my choice. I chose a little silver cage pendant that held the pearl. I've often wondered what happened to that necklace. Our other vacations, the ones I had albums of pictures from, included a cross-country drive to California (four people, including one little brother, in a minivan...ugh) with a stop in Arizona (look, kids, it's the Grand Canyon!), a weekend in Chicago, and a week spent at my uncle's farm in West Virginia.

Anyway...at least here is another dessert to distract and comfort me while I continue to sort through bags of mementos and memories of a past life.

Florida Pie
from Dorie Greenspan's
Baking: From My Home to Yours

Dorie says, "What I did was put a layer of sweet (but not exceedingly so), soft, chewy coconut in the bottom of the traditional graham cracker crust and cover it with the classic Key lime filling [...]. Then when I made the meringue for the topping, I folded some coconut into it, so the pie is symmetrical--coconuttily speaking."

Squeezing Key limes made me feel like a giant.

1 9-inch graham cracker crust, fully baked and cooled, or a store-bought crust
1 1/3 cups heavy cream
1 1/2 cups shredded sweetened coconut
4 large eggs, separated
1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup fresh Key (or regular) lime juice (from about 5 regular limes)
1/4 cup of sugar

Getting Ready:

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Put the pie plate on a baking sheet lined with parchment of a silicone mat.

Put the cream and 1 cup of the coconut in a small saucepan and bring it to a boil over medium-low heat, stirring almost constantly. Continue to cook and stir until the cream is reduced by half and the mixture is slightly thickened. Scrape the coconut cream into a bowl and set it aside while you prepare the lime filling.

Working with a stand mixer, preferably fitted with a paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl beat the egg yolks at high speed until thick and pale. Reduce the mixer speed to low and beat in the condensed milk. Still on low, add half of the lime juice. When it is incorporated, add the reaming juice, again mixing until it is blended.

Spread the coconut cream in the bottom of the graham cracker crust, and pour over the lime filling.

Bake the pie for 12 minutes. Transfer the pie to a cooling rack and cool for 15 minutes, then freeze the pie for at least 1 hour.

To Finish the Pie with Meringue:

Put the 4 egg whites and the sugar in a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan and heat over medium-low heat, whisking all the while, until the whites are hot to the touch. Transfer the whites to a stand mixer, fitted with the whisk attachment, or use a hand mixer in a large bowl, and beat the whites at high speed until they reach room temperature and hold firm peaks. Using a rubber spatula, fold the remaining 1/2 cup coconut into the meringue.

Spread the meringue over the top of the pie, and run the pie under the broiler until the top of the meringue is golden brown. (Or, if you've got a blowtorch, you can use it to brown the meringue.) Return the pie to the freezer for another 30 minutes or for up to 3 hours before serving.

Kelly's note: I didn't do any of the freezing. I just let the baked pie cool enough to top it with meringue. I sprinkled that with some coconut instead of folding it in. Then, I tried used my brulee torch to brown the top. It was burning too much, though, instead of browning.

So, I stuck the pie back in the oven for a few minutes until the top was nice and toasty. My first meringue pie...I'm so happy with how it turned out!

What Momma Used to Make

For my mother,

Linda Kay Green
1948-1996

I’ve mentioned before that my mom wasn’t the greatest cook. It’s not that she didn’t cook; it’s just that my dad is a picky eater, so she usually only cooked what he liked. I can count the different meals we ate on both hands: spaghetti, fried potatoes & kielbasa, chili, pot roast, beef stew, pork chops, ham & beans, hamburgers, hot dogs (boiled until we got a microwave, then placed in a bun, rolled in a paper towel, & zapped). Vegetables were always canned, usually peas or corn (creamed corn most of the time). We ate a lot of t.v. dinners, too, because Dad liked them. My favorites were salisbury steak or enchiladas with those little squares of dessert (brownies or cherry pie filling) that got so hot they destroyed your tongue.

One of her most famous family meals we called “Linda’s Goulash,” a whatever-she-could-find-in-the-kitchen casserole...usually made with hamburger that was almost gone-bad, canned tomatoes, & instant rice.

When I think of Mom’s cooking, I think of those recipes you’d find in a school or church fundraiser cookbook: broccoli rice casserole (made with a jar of Cheez Whiz) and creamed beef on toast (which I still crave).

Sometimes, Mom made dishes just for the two of us...since we were the more adventurous eaters in the family. She’d make veggie beef soup, tempura and sweet & sour chicken in her electric wok, or a big pot of freshly picked green beans with ham & potatoes (she’d have to make a separate pot of “creamed” green beans for dad, he who also ate mayonnaise sandwiches and drank buttermilk).

Her lack of cooking was infamous among our family and friends. In fact, we always joked about how she’d won the Betty Crocker award in high school. The punch line? It was a written test. Once, at a wedding shower we were asked to bring our favorite recipes to share with the bride. Mom brought a recipe for margaritas, and no one was at all surprised.

Her best foods were usually snack foods like dried beef & green onion cheese ball, French onion dip for chips, or her infamous taco dip (cream cheese, sour cream, package of taco seasoning, and shredded cheese microwaved until molten)....which we've since named "White Trash Taco Dip."

However, my favorite was her tacos...flour tortillas filled with beef & beans then deep fried. I remember, when I was little, driving to another town to buy freshly made tortillas from a Mexican lady. This was before you could them in a grocery store.

On taco nights, Mom would make a big skillet of the filling by simply browning some ground beef then adding cans of refried beans & a package of taco seasoning. I’d sneak spoonfuls of it when no one was looking.

If we were lucky, before she fried up some of the tacos, she’d cut several tortillas into small, chip-sized wedges, fry them in some oil, then set them on the table with a bowl of salsa.

For the tacos, she’d place some of the filling in the middle of a tortilla and fold it over. Then, she’d fry them in a shallow skillet, with just enough hot oil to cover the bottom of the pan, until they were puffed and golden brown on one side. Then, she’d turn them with a pair of tongs and brown the other side. They were served, of course, with all the fixin’s...cheese, lettuce, tomato, sour cream, & salsa.

Growing up, I thought everyone ate tacos like that. When I was invited to a friend’s house for dinner one night, I was disappointed by the packaged corn shells that broke easily and by the bean-less filling made of crumbly ground beef.

About once a year, I make a point to fry up a batch of Mom’s tacos. It’s usually a festive dinner...complete with many margaritas and friends...a stand-around-in-the-kitchen and eat kind of meal.

In case you’ve gotten the wrong impression, let me clarify. Mom wasn’t anti-cooking, nor was she a boozer (though, she did partake in a bourbon & coke from time to time). She was an intellectual (held a master’s degree and kicked everyone’s ass at Trivial Pursuit). She was a professional (high school teacher/assistant principal). She read a lot. She was strong-willed. She was caring and helpful. She was hilariously funny.

I didn’t realize it then, but she was the “cool” mom (as my friends have since told me)...the cool mom who let me eat shrimp cocktail and nachos for dinner with little bottles of Pepsi.

Dessert for the Broken-Hearted

A broken sump pump. Over a foot of water in the basement. Everything ruined. Furniture. Decorations. Speaker system. Boxes in storage . . . full of videos. CDs. Important documents. Mom's china. Tea cup collection. Family heirlooms. Childhood mementos. Wedding dress. Greeting cards. Letters.

And photograph albums. All the photographs. So many photographs . . . Weddings. Vacations. Births. Parties. Holidays. Family. Friends. All smeared into a sticky, stinking, wet mess.

Sloshing barefoot through cold water, I nearly slipped on the slimy concrete floor. Mold has begun to take over. Cardboard disintegrated on contact. Paint cans and plastic Halloween pumpkins floated.

No one noticed the flooding. Not for weeks. No one went downstairs.

I spent the afternoon sorting through nearly every picture I've taken since high school. Most of them ended up in a trash bag, unsalvageable. My hands were stained with ink, which was sliding off the paper at my touch.

Maybe it's fitting that all the photographic evidence of the past 15 years of my life has been destroyed. A sign? I don't know. I can't bear to think about it.

Nevertheless, my heart is broken. In more ways than one.

So, I'm self-medicating tonight with . . .

Cherry Rhubarb Cobbler
adapted from Simply Recipes

Filling:
4 cups rhubarb, stems sliced 1-inch thick
1 1/2 cups frozen black cherries, thawed
1/2 cup sugar

Crust:
2 tablespoons sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup cold butter, diced
1/4 cup milk
1 egg, slightly beaten

Directions:

• Preheat oven to 350.
• In a bowl, mix rhubarb and cherries with sugar. Let sit for about 30 minutes.

• In another bowl, combine 2 tablespoons of sugar, flour, baking powder, and salt. Cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in the mild and egg until just moistened.
• Pour fruit into a 2-quart baking dish. Drop batter by spoonfuls on top.
  

• Bake for 30 minutes or until crust is golden brown.
  

• Serve with freshly whipped cream.

The filling was a bit runny, watery. I thought that appropriate . . . considering.

The Art of Simple Food: Swiss Chard Gratin

Last Tuesday marked the one year anniversary of my cooking/blogging project. Since then, I've not only learned so much about cooking and baking, but I've also learned a lot about cooking culture.

I used to be slightly obsessed with Food Network chefs, religiously watching their shows, buying their cookbooks, and going so far as to make a point to eat at their restaurants while visiting other cities. I dined at Gale Gand's Tru (to this day the best--and most expensive--meal I've ever eaten) & Rick Bayless's Topolobampo in Chicago and Morimoto in Philadelphia. I have signed menus from Bayless and Morimoto. I once canceled one of my classes to see Tyler Florence do a cooking demonstration & book signing in St. Louis.

I don't have cable, so I can't watch Food Network anymore. Even so, I was getting tired of people like Sandra Lee (semi-homemade sucks ass!) and Rachel Ray (enough already!).

Instead, I've learned the difference between celebrity chefs, famous chefs, and great chefs. Through reading food books like Julia Childs's My Life in France, Bill Buford's Heat, & Gael Greene's Insatiable, I've been exposed to chefs like James Beard, Marco Pierre White, Daniel Boulud, Lidia Bastianich, Thomas Keller, and Alice Waters. After immersing myself into the world of food blogs, I've discovered Mark Bittman, David Lebovitz, and Dorie Greenspan.

Last Saturday, I met Diana Kennedy, who did a cooking class at Kitchen Conservatory. Kennedy is considered the authority on Mexican cuisine, having lived in Mexico since 1957 and writing cookbooks since 1972.

I've also learned about the Slow Food movement, eating organically & locally, and sustainable foods. While I've always been a herbivore, I can now appreciate eating seasonal produce. I understand the beauty of a fresh leafy green.

In fact, I had dinner at Riddle's Penultimate Cafe & Wine Bar on Saturday and ordered the veggie plate...mainly just to get the fresh spinach they offered (the first spinach of the year!).

Anyway, to kick off the spring season--and all the foods that come with it--I picked up a bunch of red chard last week.

According to Food Network, "swiss chard is one of the healthiest of the super-nutritious 'dark, leafy greens'".

I've only cooked swiss chard once before, year ago...a quick chop & saute with garlic and olive oil.

This time, however, I made chard gratin from The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters...

Chard Gratin
4 servings

Wash and stem:
1 1/2 bunches of chard
Save half the stems and slice them thin. Bring 2 quarts of salted water to a boil and cooked the sliced stems for 2 minutes. Add the chard leaves and cook until tender, about 3 minutes. Drain and cool. Gently squeeze out the excess liquid from the stems and leaves and coarsely chop them.

Toss together:
1 cup fresh breadcrumbs
2 teaspoons melted butter
Toast on a baking sheet in a 350 oven, stirring now and then, until lightly brown, about 10 minutes.

Melt over medium heat in a heavy-bottomed pan:
1 1/2 tablespoons butter
Add:
1 onion, diced
Cook over medium heat until translucent, about 5 minutes. Stir in the chard and:
Salt
Cook for 3 minutes. Sprinkle with:
2 teaspoons flour
Stir well and add:
1/2 cup milk
A little freshly grated nutmeg
Cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add more milk if the mixture gets too thick. The chard should be moist but not floating in liquid. Taste and add salt if needed.

Butter a small baking dish. Spread the chard mixture evenly in the dish and dot with:
2 teaspoons butter

Sprinkle the breadcrumbs evenly over the top. Bake in a 350 degree oven until the gratin is golden and bubbling, 20-30 minutes.

VARIATION

Substitute 1 1/2 pounds spinach for the chard. Wilt the spinach in a pan with a little butter and water. Cool and squeeze out the excess liquid, as above.

In celebration of the new spring veggies--and of Earth Day--I'm submitting this recipe to Kalyn's Weekend Herb Blogging event, which is hosted this week by Margot at Coffee and Vanilla.

Camera Advice?

HELP! I am tired of my ugly pictures. I need a new camera.

Any advice out there on what I should get?

What kinds of cameras do y'all use?

Any other suggestions to take better photos?

Books That Cook

A colleague of mine from the community college where I teach recently sent me an article from the March issue (which was all about food!) of College English. The article, "Books That Cook: Teaching Food and Food Literature in the English Classroom," by Jennifer Cognard-Black and Melissa A. Goldthwaite details how they designed literature courses around food and food writing.

It's essentially my dream course to teach...one full of reading about food and cooking, watching films about food and cooking, talking about food and cooking, and ultimately actually cooking and eating the foods you've read about, watched, and discussed. It gave me goosebumps.

Towards the end of the article, Goldthwaite writes:
A syllabus is a kind of recipe created from imagination, experience, and available ingredients—and with time constraints and audience in mind. As I do every summer, I read and cook, eat and think, call friends and colleagues for suggestions, and try to find or alter the recipe for my ever-changing course on the literatures of food.

Reading that made me feel jealous and sad. I want so much to be able to spend a summer reading, cooking, eating, thinking, and preparing for the upcoming semester. I have great ideas for my courses, but simply no time to prepare for them. Since I am only an adjunct at the schools where I teach, my summer schedule is completely full...I usually teach a creative writing workshop for middle school and high school students all day (from 9-3:30), then teach college classes four nights a week (from 6:30-9:30), and work elsewhere on the weekends. It's exhausting.

And, I've been doing that each summer for eight years. Anyone who thinks teaching is easy because we get summers "off" is mistaken. Not all teachers get summers off. Even those who don't have to teach during the summer usually still spend those months researching and preparing for the next school year.

Hopefully, I'll get a full-time teaching job (or any other job, for that matter!) for fall. That way, I can let my passion for teaching, reading, writing--and cooking--consume my summer.

Shopping, Science, a Sandwich, & Sustainability

My yesterday started with a trip to The Wine & Cheese Place in Clayton, where I bought some new beers to try (like a blueberry lager & a sparkling ale!), a French rose wine (2006 Commanderie de la Bargemone), some Prosciutto di Parma, and a wedge of L'Edel de Cleron cheese.


Then, I was off to the St. Louis Science Center to see the Body Worlds exhibit. I couldn't help but notice how the thin cross-section slices of brain tissue looked remarkably like the prosciutto that I had just purchased. I also kept thinking about how tasty some of the exhibits looked. Sick, I know. But I've had food on the brain a lot lately, and I guess I was in a weird Hannibal Lector sort of mood. Still, it's not hard to understand that our bodies are not physically that different from the animals that we eat. Muscle is meat, no matter the species. And--I just couldn't help it--those muscles reminded me of steak.


Ugh.

I wasn't very shocked by the bodies on display, but it was interesting to see the differences between healthy lungs and a smoker's lungs. The fetal development display was the most intriguing part, but I was disappointed to noticed that it was hidden behind a black curtain. I guess those conservative right-wing pro-lifers had that put up so as not to offend anyone. I am staunchly pro-choice, but if there's anything out there to make someone question the beginning of life, it's seeing how completely formed an 8-week old fetus is. Crazy. Amazing.


My next stop was lunch at Iron Barley, a place I've been wanting to try for a while. (Check out my review.) Though I was craving steak (go figure!), they were out of prime rib. So, I went with "7 greens" soup, a "peppered pork" sandwich, and "pear crunch blaster pie" for dessert.


Afterwards, I drove out to St. Charles to visit Benne's Best Meat, an organic farm where you can drive right up to purchase beef, pork, chicken, & eggs. I discovered this farm through the Slow Food St. Louis website, because I've been interested in finding places to buy fresh, local foods. I bought a 4 1/2 pound chicken, 2 pounds of bacon, and 2 dozen eggs. Jolene, the owner, greeted me outside as I pulled up. She didn't have enough eggs in the fridge, so I walked down to the barn with her to get some of the eggs she had collected that morning. They were still a bit warm when I brought them home. My total bill was about $30. Not cheap, but I'm going to see if it makes a difference in taste, especially with the chicken.


I had planned to roast the chicken for dinner last night, but it was frozen. Instead, I boiled a couple of the eggs, which had more orangey yolks than store-bought eggs, and ate them warm. I prefer a medium-boiled egg:

• Put the eggs in a small sauce pan. Don't stack them.
• Add enough cold water to cover them.
• Place on medium heat and bring to a rolling boil.
• COVER & REMOVE FROM HEAT.
• Let sit 8 minutes.
• Immediately drain and rinse with cold water.
• When they are cool enough to handle, peel under running water.
• Dab dry, slice open lengthwise, & sprinkle with kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper.

The eggs did taste somewhat richer than store bought eggs. They are also much larger, barely fitting in the carton.


A few hours later, I made a platter of pinata apple, anjou pear, procuitto, the new cheese, aged gouda, dried figs, & rosemary crackers to enjoy with the rose wine...which was dry but light-bodied. I don't think I would drink it alone, but it went perfectly with the fruits and cheeses, particularly that L'Edel de Cleron. It is a creamy brie-like cheese with a rind thicker than brie. It is so soft that it is aged with a wood ring around the outer-rim to keep it from oozing. It is not as pungent as brie, but has an earthier taste.

This morning, I ate a fried egg with a few strips of the farm's bacon. It is thick bacon, so that it doesn't curl up when you cook it. It is also leaner than some grocery store varieties.

Are these foods worth the price and the drive? We'll see on Thursday when I roast that chicken!

Gentle Melancholy & A Carrot Cake

Yesterday, I signed divorce papers. And iced a carrot cake I had baked the night before.

One thing destroyed. One thing created.

Carrot Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
2 cups sugar
1 1/4 cups canola oil
4 eggs
3 cups peeled, grated carrots
1 1/3 cups chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 350.

Butter & flour two 8 or 9-inch round cake pans.

Mix flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, & ginger in a bowl.

In another bowl, whisk sugar & oil. Add the eggs, one at a time. Then, gradually add flour mixture.

Stir in carrots & nuts. Pour into prepared pans.

Bake 30-40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool 15 minutes in pan before removing cakes to a cooling rack. Cool completely before icing.

Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

16 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1 stick butter, room temperature
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1/2 cup maple syrup (use the "real" stuff)

Beat cheese & butter together. Add sugar, mix well. Add syrup.

Visions of Gingerbread & Peppermint Dance in My Head

Champagne + Gingerbread Syrup = PURE JOY.

I saw this recipe for "Christmas in a Glass" in Nigella Express and was anxious to try it. All I did was add a tablespoon or so of syrup to each glass. So festive...and delicious!

The problem was finding the syrup. I remember Starbucks selling small bottles of it last year, but they are not carrying it this year. I explained my dilemma to a guy at Starbucks recently, and he very generously gave me a plastic cup with some syrup for free. Last night, I asked again about buying some syrup and learned that they only sell the big bottles now. But, they are only about $7 each, so I decided to get one. When I got home, a friend of mine brought a second bottle over to surprise me (since I've been talking about this for a couple weeks!).

Now I have 2 liters of gingerbread syrup. I used some in coffee this morning, but am looking for other recipes. Any suggestions?

I went to sleep last night while thinking about what all I could use that syrup for. You would have thought I'd dream about gingerbread. Instead, I dreamt that I made a chocolate peppermint cake...a single layer of chocolate cake covered in vanilla icing and topped with crushed candy canes. A sign? Apparently, I've been thinking too much about holiday baking.

Indeed, I have been giving lots of thought to which cookies to bake this year. I have it narrowed down to 12 recipes and am seriously considering just baking them all...a "12 days of Christmas cookies" kind of thing. That would, after all, be much more cheery than my last 12 days list which set off an onslaught of family drama.

So, if you know me, expect to receive some cookies......

Alone in the Kitchen

Earlier this year, I read Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant. It's a collection of essays about cooking & eating alone, the things people only cook for themselves. So, it made me think about the things I make when I'm alone.

My solo cooking is often repetitive...I'll find something I really like, then cook it again and again...for months at a time. After a while I'll stop cooking it all together. Like potatoes and eggs. For such a long time, I ate that almost everyday for either breakfast or lunch. It was nearly ritualistic. I'd pour frozen hash browns (the chunky kind, not the shredded kind) into a dry, non-stick pan and cook them until they thawed. Then, I'd drizzle them with olive oil. When they were brown and crunchy, I'd sprinkle them with Emeril's seasoning & dump them onto a plate. That got topped with a couple of eggs, over-easy. I mixed it all together before eating it.

Of course, that was before I did South Beach for about a year. Now, potatoes & eggs are a rare treat.

Another dish I'd make a lot was pasta with peas: frozen peas sauteed in butter with herbs de provence, then poured over spiral noodles & topped with parm.

I've also gone through a toasted pumpernickel & cheese phase, a buttered noodles phase, a white rice with soy sauce phase, a saltines with mustard and cheese slices phase, a ramen noodles phase (I'd boil water with the seasoning packet, crush up the noodles, then add them to the broth, turn of the heat, & let sit for 5 minutes), a hard-boiled egg phase (with the yolks slightly undercooked), and this summer a fried eggplant phase.

My favorite solo meal, though, is a soup-for-one that I call Bean & Greens: In a medium saucepan, saute a small onion (chopped) in some olive oil with a bit of fresh garlic, then add a can of reduced-sodium chicken broth, a can of cannellini beans, (I also sometimes add a handful of whole-wheat macaroni when the broth boils), and either a handful of spinach or a small chopped zucchini. The soup gets topped with grated parm. It's quick & makes just enough for one big hearty bowl.

"...tastes like summer, and death."

On her blog, "Lo" recently wrote about summers on the lake and making artichoke-stuffed French bread, which she says "tastes like summer, and death."

And that got me thinking.

Every year, I am so excited for summer break. This summer, though, I taught Writing Camp (creative writing for middle school & high school kids) all day for 4 weeks, taught college classes 4 nights a week for 8 weeks, and worked at the winery every weekend. Not much of a break.

Like every year, I get nostalgic right after July 4th about how the summer is almost over, how I didn't get to do all that I had planned for the "break." Last summer, I wrote: "And now that July is here, I can glimpse the summer's end and feel my dreams of Summer Fun fading. I already mourn the sun. [...] The Fourth of July always signifies the midsummer mark for me...the beginning of the end, so to speak."

So, I can understand Lo's comparison of summer and death.

I remember visiting my uncle's farm during summer break. It was a quiet place, named the Blue Goose Farm, tucked into the hills of Alderson, West Virginia. He had cattle, chickens, and horses. I spent the days lounging, reading, walking around the property, enjoying lazy meals. Everything was handmade. I remember watching my British aunt making chicken and spicy peanut sauce. I had never eaten like this before. She sauteed chopped garlic until it browned, then added peanut butter and spices. I was amazed. I couldn't, however, bring myself to enjoy the meal, because I was convinced that they had slaughtered one of their chickens for it...one of the chickens I had fed that afternoon. (I didn't realize then that those were chickens for eggs, not for meat.)

One night I stirred a scoop of thick vanilla ice cream, one spoonful at a time, into a huge mug of hot coffee. I drank it once all the ice cream had melted. THAT'S the kind of lazy eating I am talking about.

More than anything, though, I remember picking wild blueberries in their backyard. There was always a big colander full in the sink . I ate blueberries all day long...in cereal at breakfast, handfuls for an afternoon snack, with ice cream for dessert.

When I think of summer, I think of those bittersweet berries. Bittersweet...in so many ways...like summer, and death.

My aunt & uncle no longer live on that farm. They are no longer married. I don't get to spend a lazy summer week with either of them. I've never eaten blueberries fresh off the bush since then.

In honor of those lazy summer vacations, I made blueberry muffins this weekend...during a lazy Sunday morning.

Blueberry Almond Muffins

slightly adapted from Cooking Light

makes about 30 muffins

For the muffins:

1 1/2  cups all-purpose flour, divided
1  cup whole wheat flour
1  cup quick-cooking oats
1  cup sugar
1  tablespoon baking powder
1  teaspoon baking soda
1/4  teaspoon salt
2  cups vanilla yogurt
1/2  cup milk
3  tablespoons canola oil
2  teaspoons vanilla extract
1  large egg
1 1/2  cups fresh blueberries

For the topping:

1/4  cup all-purpose flour
1/4  cup slivered almond
1  tablespoon light brown sugar
1  tablespoon butter, melted

• Preheat oven to 400°.
• To make the muffins, combine 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, whole wheat flour, oats, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl, stirring with a whisk. 
• In a separate bowl, whisk together the yogurt, milk, oil, vanilla, and egg. 
• Add the yogurt mixture to flour mixture; stir just until moist. 
• Fold in the blueberries. 
• Spoon 2 rounded tablespoons batter into muffin cups coated with cooking spray.
• To make the topping, combine 1/4 cup all-purpose flour, almonds, brown sugar, and butter. Sprinkle evenly over batter. 
• Bake at 400° for 15 minutes or until muffins spring back when touched lightly in center. 
• Cool in the pans for 10 minutes on a wire rack; then remove the muffins from the pans.

Digital pics coming soon!