Because 2 days is never enough.

I am consistently spoiled at work by one of my co-workers, Darren. Actually, by his grandmother in Hawaii. She is fond of sending him care packages filled with baked goods and knitted or crocheted goodies. Although I am always happy to eat her cookies and pound cake, it was a crocheted item she sent recently that really impressed me. She crocheted a dish scrubber out of abrasive yarn - pretty and practical. It’s my favorite homemade addition to my new kitchen.

I’ll ask Darren if she can slip the pattern into the next care package shipment. It’ll be a great incentive to learn how to crochet.

Erik’s birthday was last week, and I stumbled upon the perfect “husband birthday” card a few months ago at the Hell’s Kitchen flea market. The card is from Dottie to her loving husband, dated 1947 or 1948. For some reason Dottie wasn’t sure what year it was. There’s gotta be a good story there. Maybe Dottie gave her husband the same card two years in a row to save money? Or maybe Dottie was a lush and could never remember what year it was? Either way, I’m happy to recycle Dottie’s birthday card for my husband in 2007. It’s 2007, right?

I made Erik the ice cream of his choice to go along with the celebration. He chose cherry, made with handfuls of cherries from the farmer’s market. I found a great almond cherry recipe in Michael Lebovitz’s ice cream book “Perfect Scoop.” This recipe was not for the faint of heart, though. The egg-based custard accompanied by an ice bath took my ice cream making skills to the next level, and the candied cherries were no joke either. Needless to say, I started the process 2 days in advance of Erik’s birthday so that it would be ready in time.

• Day 1 - Prepare and cook cherries, cool in fridge
• Day 2 - Prepare and cook egg and heavy cream custard, cool in fridge
• Day 3 - Combine ingredients in the ice cream maker and freeze

The ice cream was rich, creamy, and delicious (although next time I will add less almonds than suggested). And I’m no longer scared of the process for making an egg custard base. However, I think I’ll relegate this recipe to the “special occasion” category since I can’t usually wait two days to create yummy ice cream goodness. Luckily the ice cream has lasted well into this week so we’ve really gotten some mileage out of the batch. Gourmet recipes are great to eat, but the semi-instant gratification of an easy recipe can trump a fancy recipe any day, especially when ice cream is involved.

My CSA box has, despite my earlier enthusiasm, not impressed of late. But, I’m trying to make the best of it. This curry dish used the pak choi, garlic scapes, and cilantro we got last week. It was very tasty and I’m hoping that our farmers get their act together and I can try it with other veggies as the summer rolls on.

Red Curry Tofu

• 1 cup unsweetened coconut milk
• 1/4 cup water
• 4 tablespoons dark soy sauce
• 1-2 tablespoons Thai red curry sauce
• Garlic scapes, sliced into thin, two inch strips
• Sesame oil
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 teaspoons fresh grated ginger
• 1 package firm tofu, cut into cubes
• Coarsely chopped pak choi (or bok choi) leaves and about 1/3rd of stems
• Cilantro, salt, pepper to taste and crushed raw peanuts (optional) garnish

Whisk together the coconut milk, water, and soy sauce in a bowl and let stand

In a large skillet, saute the garlic scapes in sesame oil until they begin to soften

Add garlic and ginger and cook for 1 minute

Add tofu, pak choi, and coconut milk mixture, reduce heat to medium, cover and let cook for 5-7 minutes stirring occasionally until the greens begin to wilt and the tofu is cooked

Remove cover and allow to simmer a few more minutes until the sauce
begins to thicken.

Serve on its own or with rice or rice noodles

Jess, Erik, and I biked 70 miles roundtrip from Brooklyn to Nyack two weekends ago. It was a beautiful, but tiring ride. The good news is that there is a reward at the halfway point in Nyack in the form of a bakery called the Runcible Spoon. There’s nothing like a fresh sandwich and a morning bun to get you recharged.

Despite the bakery goodness, I was still in need of an energy boost during the ride (especially for the extra hills we decided to climb since we took a different, less-flat route back). Jess and I managed to throw together some dried fruit and nuts to snack on, but I knew we could turn them into something more inspiring. Since Jess and I are always eager to combine our favorite hobbies, I thought a good power bar recipe would be a nice way to marry biking with our love of the home-made. I concocted such bars by using a recipe from Heidi’s new cookbook “Super Natural Cooking” that contained crispy brown rice, walnuts, dried cranberries, and crystallized ginger. Power bars are easy to make and fun to experiment with - reminiscent of making granola, except without the need for oven baking. I also threw in a handful of organic unsweetened coconut that I had in the cupboard, and I can’t wait to make another batch with other random ingredients I have laying around, like dried currants or sunflower seeds.

I individually wrapped a handful of the bars in parchment paper and set them aside for Karl. I know he has been cranking out some of his own power bars, so I figured a little taste test is in order. I’ll be sure to post the results here.

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Dear Friends and Family,

At 2:13 AM last night after a prolonged labor, I proudly welcomed Shirt into the world. Shirt is a healthy 2 yard shirt and is full of joy. Mom and Shirt are recovering nicely in Brooklyn. Thank you for all your well wishes. No gifts please.

Photos to follow.

UPDATE:

Jess

Yes, yes, yes… it’s not local. And as far as I can tell, it’s never local. In fact, nearly 100% of commercial artichoke is grown in California, with about 80% coming from Monterey County. This is why I never have them. This is why I practically forgot they existed.

That is, until Karl rented a car for a race and I made him drive me to Fairway in Red Hook. I was still experiencing rapture from our cheese and beer selections when I clapped eyes on the artichokes.

Growing up in California we used to eat them all the time. We had them growing in our yard and we usually prepared them whole and skimmed butter dipped leaves with our teeth. My favorite part was the heart, naturally. My dad told me that the spiky fuzzy section that covered the heart was called the choke, called that because if you eat it, you choke on it. I took that advice strangely literally and I remember the dire meticulousness with which I would remove every last trace of the choke before I would eat the heart.

I prepared the artichokes with anticipation, wondering if they would measure up to my childhood memories. I also wondered what visionary human first ate an artichoke and how they could possibly found it’s spiky outside inviting. I made veggie broth and used to to make an artichoke risotto. It is with mixed emotions that I report that the artichokes were everything I remember and more. Every bite was amazing to me, which is kind of sad because they are so rare out here. Then again, when I was a kid, I would read about the olden days, when children would be thrilled to get oranges for Christmas. Maybe there’s something to be said for special, uncommon treats.

Artichoke Risotto

2 large artichokes, trimmed, quartered, and sliced thin lengthwise

1 cup Arborio rice

4-5 cups vegetable stock

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, diced

1 tablespoon butter

1/2 cup dry white wine or cooking sherry

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1/2 cup Parmesan

Set broth to simmer in a large pot

Heat the olive oil in a skillet and sauté the artichokes until golden and tender. Set half of them aside and chop the other half.

Melt the butter in dutch over and sauté the onions until softened, add the garlic and chopped artichoke halfway through. Add the ride and cook while stirring for 1-2 minutes. Pour in the wine and simmer until it has been absorbed.

Add hot stock to the rice in increments of 1/2 cup, stirring as it is absorbed until the risotto reaches the desired consistency. About 2 1/2 to 4 cups. Add 1/4-1/2 cup grated Parmesan. Salt and pepper to taste.

Garnish with the remaining artichokes (heated if necessary) and grated Parmesan cheese.

I came across this passage in Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone the other day.

The pasta machine is essentially foolproof and will knead the dough to smoothness even if your own kneading techniques are weak.

I love Deborah Madison and I often read her cookbook like it’s a novel, but these words stung. Why? Because Karl and I had another poor performance at ravioli making the night before. Foolproof?? We’ll show you Deborah!

We avoided the too thick problem that we had the last time, so we’re learning from our mistakes but we’re also making new ones.

Too thin. Over-cooked. Poorly sealed.
We could smell our defeat as we went and found ourselves slogging through the task like it was factory work. The end result was edible, but not decisively so.

We’ll get there. We will!