I Scream for Cheese

When we were kids, our ice cream maker was two coffee cans, ice and salt. I am not sure how many times we actually did it, but rolling those cans up and down the deck in anticipation of strawberry ice cream pride has certainly stuck with me.

Maybe it’s because I don’t really have coffee cans in my life anymore—or maybe I’m just getting old and lazy—but when I decided to make ice cream this week, instead of digging around for cans I traipsed over to my brother’s and borrowed his electric ice cream maker. Those things are great.

I made a recipe from an old issue of Gourmet (moment of silence) that called for Mahon cheese, but I substituted Manchego. The result was quite good—creamy and rich with a subtle enough cheese flavor to be interesting but not overwhelming. I highly recommend it.

It’s the name that I’m getting hung up on. “Cheese ice cream” just sounds bad. And “Manchego ice cream” is only mildly better. We endearingly called it “cheese cream” for a while, but that doesn’t tell the whole story. Frozen cheese cake is probably the best description of its flavor, but that sounds like something you'd get out of the case at Baskin-Robbins. Still working on a name…

Manchego Ice Cream
Adapted from Gourmet, January 2005

3 cups whole milk
3 eggs
½ cup sugar
Pinch of salt
4 ounces cream cheese
4 ounces Manchego, grated
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

• Bring milk to a boil.



• In a separate bowl, whisk eggs, sugar, and salt. Pour the hot milk into the bowl slowly while whisking.



• Pour the mixture back into the pan, and cook on low heat, stirring, until it reaches 175°F.



• Pour custard through a sieve into a clean bowl, then add cheeses and vanilla, stirring until cheeses are melted.



• Cover and refrigerate until cold, then freeze it in an ice cream maker. Or two coffee cans.

Lavender Destiny

I had been dreaming about the lavender apricot pickles from Poppy since Thursday night, and it was Sunday. There was no shaking them. I walked out of the house thinking, who do I know that has lavender in their yard? It seemed silly to buy lavender because it’s growing everywhere in Seattle right now, and I didn’t feel good about snatching it without permission (though I’ll admit, it did cross my mind.)

I rounded the corner, less than a block from my front door, and there was a man shoving an old lavender plant on to his yard waste bin. I am not much for fate or destiny, but it seemed pretty clear that Sunday was the day to make the apricot pickles. It was my lavender destiny. I tore off a handful (with permission) and headed to the farmers market for apricots.

I am pretty sure that Poppy’s pickles were quick pickles, and I wanted something to last in the cupboard. I also wanted to up the savory quotient a bit, so I added more vinegar and salt than I think they used. I am not going to give you the recipe here because I haven’t tasted them yet. Maybe they're horrible, or totally unlavendary. They’re still pickling, but they've already started looking lovely and making me smile.

I will, however, share my favorite recipe for sweet pickle brine. Most often, I prefer an unsweetened pickle. But some treats—like spicy onions and lavender apricots—call for a sweeter brine like this one.

Sweet Pickle Brine
Adapted from the Pickled Cauliflower recipe in Eugenia Bone’s Well Preserved
4 cups white vinegar
1 cup sugar
3T canning salt
Something special: lavender, red pepper flakes, mustard seeds, garlic…

In with the Heirloom

I gave up Diet Pepsi this week. July 5th, to be exact. And I am saying this publicly in the hopes that it will stick. It’s not that I plan never to drink a sip again, but I’d rather it not be an integral part of my work day, as it has been for years.

I get so much pleasure out of eating tasty, healthy, responsible food, it seemed silly to infuse the whole thing with a week-daily dose of aspartame. It’s a little embarrassing, actually. So I’m done.

I bought some spelt a few weeks ago from Finn River Farms, a new vendor at my local farmers market, and have been looking for an occasion to try it out. This event seemed fitting—usher out the daily poison with locally and family farmed, organic heirloom grains.

Out with the Nutra Sweet, in with the heirloom.

I made a salad with the spelt and some red salad onions from Alvarez Farms, and served it with sliced tomatoes and grilled grass-fed top round beef from Bill the Butcher.

Spelt with Onions and Ricotta Salada

1 cup spelt berries
1 small red salad onion (about ¼ cup sliced)
½ cup crumbled ricotta salada
3 T olive oil
2 t red wine vinegar
½ t kosher salt

• Rinse the spelt. Bring it to a boil in a medium sauce pan with 3 cups of water. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 50 minutes. Drain and cool.
• Slice the onion into thin rounds including a few inches of the greens. Separate the rings.
• Whisk the oil, vinegar and salt together in a small bowl. Toss it all together. Let it stand at room temperature for an hour or so to let the vinegar soak in.

Minted

Nature has pretty good taste. Here in the northwest, when the season is starting to serve up some serious summer bounty, I am reminded of all of the great taste combos that are presented to us right out of the ground.

What backyard gardener doesn’t struggle to dream up creative ways to eat yet another summer squash? Grill it, slice it thin and dress it, layer it in lasagna, shred it into bread, gift it to neighbors, bring it to work. By the end of a good season they practically give zucchini away at the farmers market.

And mint—it can take over a garden. You start with one little plant by the garage and the next thing you know it’s rounding the corner and headed for the house. Watch out for the mint!

Which brings me to one of my favorite summer assemblies, or recipes that require little more than putting a few items together on a plate. Grilled summer squash with mint chiffonade is incredibly tasty and a little unexpected. It’s cheap and easy enough to serve it to a crowd. And good all summer long.

 

Summer Assemblies:

• Grilled summer squash with mint chiffonade
• Peaches, basil and fresh mozzarella
• Tomatoes with gorgonzola, red onions and fresh oregano
• Sliced, peeled cucumbers with lime and salt
• Sour cream, blueberries and brown sugar
• Chives, ricotta and olive oil on wheat toast

The Color Red

My mom came back from Portland a few weeks ago with a Ziploc bag full of dried chiles. A family friend had sent them home with her knowing I’d appreciate the treat, and she was right. I think that they were chilhuacle negros—a mild fruity Mexican chile—though I am not entirely certain. I am certain, however, that they contributed to a tasty Chile Colorado that I made for my dad, and that I will seek them out again to make the very same dish.

It’s barbeque season, whether the weather thinks so or not, and I am determined to do some fun things on the grill this summer. I made the Chile Colorado ahead of time and we served it with grilled steak, minted summer squash and fresh radishes. It was a nice variation on a classic summer barbeque.

After reading a bunch of recipes, I settled on this hybrid below. I am a huge fan of spicy, and this was not spicy at all. So if you’re looking for a Chile Colorado with a kick, I’d add a few spicier chiles to the mix.

Chile Colorado
12 dried chilhuacle negros 2 T canola oil
3 T finely diced white onion
3 garlic cloves, minced
4 T fresh oregano, minced
1 t ground cumin
½ t sugar
½ t salt
1 t white vinegar

• Toast the chiles in a hot frying pan for about 2 minutes, turning regularly. Remove the stems and seeds.
• Cover the chiles with boiling water and let sit for 20 minutes.
• Drain the water and set aside.
• Blend the chiles with 1 cup of the reserved water until completely pureed.
• Strain the chile mixture through a fine sieve and discard the solids.
• Heat the oil in a frying pan to medium. Add the onion and sauté for 3 min. Add the garlic and sauté until the onion is translucent, about 8 minutes.
• Stir in the cumin, oregano and chile mixture.  
• Simmer for about 20 minutes. Adding reserved liquid as needed.
• Mix in the sugar, salt and vinegar.

Honey, Sweetie

Though technically I have an outdoor space at home, it can’t reliably be called a yard. It’s concrete on five sides and open on top. I generously call it a patio, but really it’s the bottom of other peoples’ fire escape. And a drain. Sun sneaks in for an hour or two each day, and that’s barely enough to keep my hostas alive.

I think it’s my lack of a true garden space that allows me to declare with gusto (and no follow through) things like “I want to raise chickens! Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” And after tonight, “I want to keep bees!”

Tonight I watched Corky Luster of Ballard Bee Company pull bees out of a hive in a parking lot in Ballard—and I was hooked. They wiggled and squirmed. Some flew around. They all stayed close. And after just a few weeks in their parking lot home they had already started to make honey. It was amazing.

For now, I’ll continue to lean on my limited outdoor space as an excuse and rely on people like the folks at Ballard Bee Company and Sweet As Can Bee Honey to keep me supplied with local gold. But some day, I tell you, I’m going to keep bees.

Here's one of my favorite honey pairings and weeknight desserts:

• Dark chocolate
• Sharp cheese—a strong blue is my favorite, tonight I used Pecorino Romano because I had it
• Toasted whole walnuts
• Yummy local honey

Basquiat Frittata

When Jean-Michel Basquiat died at 27, he left behind over 1,000 paintings and 1,000 drawings. I saw a great documentary about him a few weeks ago at the Seattle International Film Festival—and it lit a fire under me.

In addition to the art, he was a millionaire and had dated Madonna—that’s what I call a seriously accomplished 27 year old. 

 

In the spirit of trying to harness even the tiniest sliver of Basquiat's motivation (glossing over the fact that he developed a drug problem that lead to his death), I am trying to get some things done. This weekend, I finished a quilt that I started in 2007. It is not, mind you, a three-year masterpiece. But rather something I started a long time ago and stopped working on for 2 ½ years. What was I waiting for? No idea. And now it’s done.

So this morning when my friend Carolyn texted about brunch, I looked in my fridge. The remnants of a bunch of Italian parsley, 2 slices of ham, a week old tomato and half a red onion looked at me and said, what are you waiting for? Nothing! Let’s do it.

She came over and we had a simple and lovely frittata. And then we walked to the Capitol Hill farmer’s market for another week of inspiration.

What are you waiting for?

Simple Frittata 
2 T olive oil
½ an onion, finely diced
½ cup left over, prepared veggies (broccoli, sweet potato, tomato, etc)
¼ cup chopped fresh herbs (Italian parsley, basil, chives)
1 cup grated parmesan or other hard cheese
4 eggs
4 T heavy cream
1t kosher salt

• Turn the oven on to broil.
• Sauté the oil and onion over low heat until translucent, about 15 minutes.
• Add the veggies to heat.
• Sprinkle half the cheese and the herbs over the mixture. Do not stir.
• Beat the eggs with the cream and salt, and pour evenly over the veggie mix.
• Cook over medium heat for 3-4 minute until the edges of the egg begin to cook.
• Transfer to the oven (make sure you’re using an oven-safe pan) and broil for 3-4 minutes until the cheese is browned and the eggs are cooked.
• Slice like a pizza and serve hot.