Happy Things for a Rainy Friday

Happy Friday, friends! Here are a few things which are cheering me up today:

1. The Garden Fence. Our house is on one acre, but the adjacent property has over twenty acres, mostly wooded. I like to call it Deer Gardens, an executive community for deer demanding only the finest organic produce, fresh spring water, and award winning schools. Last spring Ed constructed a new fence, so the deer are forced to eat my tulips instead of my vegetables. Pictured below are the very beginning sprouts of radishes (plus weeds which instantly sprung up in the rain).


2. National Grilled Cheese Day. At first I thought this was like all of the other fake Facebook-inspired holidays made up by some bored fourteen year old, but then I thought, “Who even cares? This is a day I am planning to celebrate!” Turns out it’s a real thing.

Grilled cheese is one of my first favorite foods. I remember being around age four and asking my dad if he is allowed to eat “girl cheese” since he’s a boy. I probably remember this because my family made me ask him this again every single time I ate a girl cheese for the next year. I might have thought they were stupid back then, but now I get it.

I plan on making today’s grilled cheese with grated Gruyère and sharp cheddar, heavy on the butter. Why can’t I lose weight?


3. Nail Polish. I have a bit of a thing for nail polish. As a child, I always enjoyed the thrill of a new box of crayons, and I love choosing colors. No surprise, I am like a moth to flame at any nail polish display and often find myself powerless. I suppose there are worse shopping addictions one can have. It’s almost time to pick a new color, which is half the fun for me.

While I’m happy with most Essie and OPI shades, my real weakness is Dior. I am currently wearing OPI’s Bubble Bath in a gel — a decent nude but nothing too exciting. I definitely prefer my Dior Safari Beige. That’s me in a nutshell: Fifty Shades of Beige.

4. My Mad Men lamp. This lovely relic currently resides in my basement in a room whose decor can best be described as Garage Sale/Bennigan’s Transitional. When my mother-in-law went into assisted living, we snatched this baby right up. I truly do love it, but it doesn’t quite work on my main floor. I am hoping to find a better spot to showcase all of its Don Draperesque awesomeness. Sorry, folks, it’s not for sale.

mad men lamp

Wishing you all a beautiful weekend filled with good food and happy things.

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The Joy of Going Dark

Watching the season six premiere of Mad Men Sunday night reminded me once again of a simpler time. However, witnessing the lack of constant communication and inability to Google anything on the spot always unsettles me; it feels like reverse science fiction. Did I once really live like this? When Betty went into The Dicey Neighborhood without a cell phone, I was very nervous indeed. How did we manage back then? Almost unbelievable.

It’s an interesting experience to be an American woman in her forties. I’m young enough to have adapted and embraced most new technology with ease, but I’m still old enough to remember having a real life before smart phones and GPS. I remember going out on dates, to parties and various day trips with friends and I rarely could call home to say I arrived safely; I just needed to return when I said I would. What a leap of faith! I remember going to New York City, Paris and London, meeting people at various pre-arranged spots, and if they were late or their train was delayed or they got a little lost…I just kept waiting. Eventually everyone always showed up. Finding someone in a big city without a cell phone seems like a true miracle today.

When I’m working, I don’t have my cell phone with me on the sales floor. It’s against policy and everyone knows I’m usually an obedient rule follower. For many hours at a time, I have no access to my phone, texts, emails, etc. And I kind of like it. For that time period, I am focused fully on being where I am and not distracted by the constant pings of notifications of my Other Life. The world, so used to my usual quick reply, needs to patiently wait until I am done working.

The world is not accustomed to patiently waiting for me. Once, while working a mere four hour shift, I found a voice mail, then a text seeing if I ever got the voice mail, and then another text to follow up…all from the same person in less than four hours. And this was not a 911 emergency, either.  People expect me to be a rapid responder and tend to panic a bit when I’m not. What would Betty say? Probably something delightfully bitchy.

I have learned to embrace my periods of digital incommunicado. They feel like mini vacations back to my youth, a life where I can go almost eight hours without knowing about baseball schedule changes and 40% off Banana Republic coupons and spring fair volunteer sign ups and the latest celebrity gossip and my son’s physics grade. Sooner or later, I find out about all of this stuff. For now, on brief occasions, I am enjoying the charmingly retro concept of Just Being Where I Am. I do believe it will be the next big thing.

Another 8766 Hours, Another Birthday Cake

Years ago, my old book club read Michael Cunningham’s brilliant Pulitzer prize winning novel The Hours. I absolutely loved this book, but I can still hear my fellow book club members groaning from here. Let’s just say everyone did not share my enthusiasm for The Hours. In their defense, it was rather depressing. I lent out my copy, so I can’t refer back to specific passages. But one in particular really spoke to me.

Laura Brown was an unsatisfied, depressed housewife in 1949 suburban Los Angeles. Like me at the time, she attached a little too much significance into baking (creating) her husband’s birthday cake. It was her job, her art, her lot in life. And no surprise, despite her ardent efforts, it came out imperfectly.

While thankfully I was never anywhere near the level of misery of Laura Brown (who winds up leaving her family), there was a lot of me who could relate to her struggles during that time of my life. Back in those days, a cake was one of the few pieces of evidence that I “did something.” And then the reminder that I once had so many more dreams for myself than just baking cakes.

She, Laura, likes to imagine (it’s one of her most closely held secrets) that she has a touch of brilliance herself, just a hint of it, though she knows most people probably walk around with similar hopeful suspicions curled up like tiny fists inside them, never divulged. She wonders, while she pushes a cart through the supermarket or has her hair done, if the other women aren’t all thinking, to some degree or other, the same thing: Here is the brilliant spirit, the woman of sorrows, the woman of transcendent joys, who would rather be elsewhere, who has consented to perform simple and essentially foolish tasks, to examine tomatoes, to sit under a hair dryer, because it is her art and her duty. — Michael Cunningham, The Hours

I am better now that my kids are older and I have crafted more of a balanced life for myself, but for every birthday cake I bake, I still remember that gray period of my life when the cake was such a powerful symbol. It represented my job, my worth, my abilities. While there are many times when I still mourn for my life with small children (usually when I see a cute one in the grocery store), I remember that it was also a difficult and sometimes dark time filled with much loneliness, isolation and boredom. Women don’t talk about that part, but they should. Despite my fierce love for my family, I was a little lost and unfulfilled as a person during my early years of motherhood.

It feels taboo to admit that. It feels whiny and self indulgent, and maybe it is. But I serve no one by pretending it was easy, happy and perfect. It wasn’t. Not for me, anyway. There were wonderful hours, for sure, but back then, the wonderful hours were much fewer and farther between than today. I don’t know that I would ever want to go back to that place.

This year’s birthday cake for my husband feels like a victory. Not because it will be perfect, but because it won’t be. It will just be a cake, and there is no such thing as bad cake. It will be sweet and a little messy but satisfying and made with love and good intentions, just like a cake and a life should be.

An April Fools Story and a Tale of Redemption

Hello, Hello and Happy Almost April!

I hope everyone had a lovely Easter, Passover and/or Spring Holiday of Choice and enjoyed feasting with loved ones as much as I did. I have been working a lot more, so my time in the kitchen has been less than innovative lately, and I’ve been sticking to my usual repertoire of take-out family favorites. However, I did try this so-easy-it’s-not-much-of-a-recipe recipe from the Huffington Post for matzo toffee, and it was a pretty big hit. On the plus side (?), I consumed such a shameful amount that I don’t want to look at it for another 365 days at least. Too much matzo toffee + Too many marshmallow Peeps = Too tight jeans.

On a somewhat related note, it’s time for me to bust out my annual April Fools story. Now, if you’re a friend or family member, please forgive me. I know you have to hear this story every single year. But for all the rest of you, please enjoy this lovely April Fools cautionary tale.

When Logan was about ten, I thought it would be HILARIOUS to tell him that he was going to have another baby brother or sister as an April Fools joke, and this is how it all went down:

Me: Guess what, Logan? You’re going to be a big brother again! Isn’t that exciting? What do you think of that?

Logan: Yeah, I kind of thought you looked pregnant.

And that, my friends, is how it’s done. May your attempts at tomfoolery be more successful than mine.

On a totally unrelated note, I wanted to share with you a recommendation for a short HBO documentary I really enjoyed. Fall to Grace is the story of former New Jersey governor Jim McGreevey, who resigned in 2004 and came out as a “gay American” after he was accused of having an inappropriate relationship with a staff member.

As a bit of a cynic, I was prepared to not be taken in by McGreevey’s reinvention as a wannabe Episcopal priest and mentor at a women’s prison. I may talk like a tough guy, but I fell in love with him in less than five minutes. (And I really fell in love with his house! If you are dying to know what my dream house looks like, see this documentary.) Jim McGreevey radiates happiness. Working with these inmates is truly his calling. You can see and feel the connection they have, and it’s clear that these women have helped him as much as he has helped them.

This is a really sweet little documentary about a person who had it all, lost it all, and then got it all back in spades. I love the idea of Act 2 and second chances. I love Jim McGreevey’s radiant glow which comes from living openly, honestly and with vulnerability. But mostly I love that even though we’re all a little broken, we still possess the capacity to heal each other.

Buffalo Hummus

After a long week, Ed and I usually enjoy unwinding with wine and hummus on Friday evenings. We’ll either watch a movie or one of our shows (currently we’re enjoying The Americans on FX). But at the end of March, that changes.

Our household is currently in the height of March Madness frenzy. For the unaware, this means NCAA college basketball. In general, I am neither a rabid sports fan nor a gambler, but for a few weeks in March, I become both of those things. College basketball and wine just don’t go together as well as college basketball and beer. And what does beer go with? Wings, of course.

Tonight I decided to shake things up a bit and try my hand at Buffalo Hummus. I went into this blindly, but we were both very pleased with how well it turned out. Zippy and rich, but not too heavy. I won’t say this is exactly healthy, but it is definitely more healthy than buffalo chicken wings or dip.

Buffalo Hummus

1 can chick peas, drained
2 oz. cream cheese, softened
1 clove garlic
1/4 cup hot wings sauce, such as Franks Red Hot Buffalo Wings Sauce
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons olive oil

Combine all ingredients in food processor until smooth.


Dawn’s Wheat Berry Salad

There are few things I dislike more than salad bars and buffets. Public restrooms come to mind, but otherwise, I’m drawing a blank. So I’m not quite sure what came over me last week when I was drawn to the salad bar of my grocery store in an almost supernatural pull, equal parts hungry and lazy. Plastic clam shell container in hand, belly up to the Acme salad bar, I found myself evaluating my many rainbow colored options. It seems the middle-aged crisis manifests in many forms.

Obvious sanitation concerns aside, I become paralyzed by the selection process. Too many choices give me anxiety and harken me back to the days of toddler temper tantrums, where my children would melt down picking out what color cup to choose or a pack of gum at the checkout counter if I “rushed” them. Just. Pick. Something. Dammit.

I’m not saying I would have been happier in the days of Soviet Russia, but standing there contemplating the selection of egg salad and broccoli salad and beet salad and bacon — so much bacon in all of the “salads” — and some rather flaccid looking veggies and ten different dressings and six different crunchy toppings and none of it made sense when served together in one container all touching each other that I wondered if I wouldn’t have been better off going next door to Bravo and ordering a cheesesteak for probably less calories than my salad.

But oftentimes inspiration strikes in the most unlikely places. One of the many things I plopped in my container that day was a little sample of wheat berry salad, and this alone was worth my ordeal. Hearty and flavorful, I was immediately enchanted with the humble wheat berry, which is high in fiber and rich in nutrients. Score one for the Acme salad bar.

I picked up these wheat berries from Wegman’s (but certainly use any brand or variety you can find), and I set out to create something healthy, delicious and satisfying for lunch. Mission accomplished. If you’re gluten-free, quinoa or brown rice would work.

Dawn’s Wheat Berry Salad
4 servings

1 cup wheat berries (red winter wheat) cooked per package instructions
1/4 cup olive oil
3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 red onion, diced
1/2 – 1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
1 carrot, shredded
1/4 pound good quality feta cheese, crumbled
1/2 cup black olives of choice, halved

Cook one cup of wheat berries per package instructions and remove from heat. In medium serving bowl, whisk together olive oil, apple cider vinegar and kosher salt. Add cooked wheat berries and mix well. Add all remaining ingredients, gently combine, and serve chilled or at room temperature. Refrigerate and use within three days.

Wheat berry salad

Countdown to Pi Day

Tomorrow Logan’s school is celebrating Pi Day (3.14, get it?) by serving lots and lots of pie. I signed up to make two pies, and our conversation went like this:

Me: Pi Day is almost here. I need to find a winning recipe because I’m bringing in two pies and I want them to be THE BEST!

Logan: Umm, Mom, you know it’s not a pie contest, right? No one will even know it’s your pie that they’re eating.

Me: Oh, honey, they will know, because they will say, “Who made this one? You have to try this one. It’s the BEST PIE I EVER ATE.”

Logan: Seriously, Mom, you can just buy two pies from Acme. No one really cares.

Me (blank stare): Huh? “No one cares?” Of course they care! They care and I care and I will win at Pi Day.

Unfortunately, pie is really not my thing. Talking smack, that’s my thing. Never one to let lack of skill or experience get in the way, I started pulling out cookbooks and magazines and Google searches, determined to create the best pie ever. There are over 61 million results on Google for apple pie alone. My head hurt. Analysis paralysis, as they say.

But then something happened. I stopped and asked why. Why am I doing this? Why does it matter? I certainly have enough things to do, so why am I making extra work for myself?

The answer, it turns out, is as infinite and transcendental as pi itself.


Carrot and Sharp Cheddar Gratin

I’ve had my eye on this recipe from my December 2012 Fine Cooking for a few months, and I finally decided to make it last week. No surprise, carrots covered in heavy cream, butter, cheddar cheese and panko were a big hit. Obviously, almost any vegetable covered with these ingredients would be a big hit, so go ahead and modify if you wish. Then you can be one of those braggy playground moms who says, “Connor just LOVES when I make <insert one> turnips, broccoli, parsnips, kale, etc.” They don’t need to know the whole story.

All kidding aside, this would make a lovely side dish for a holiday meal or a Sunday dinner. I was short on carrots and had a daikon radish which wasn’t getting any younger, so I threw that in there to make up for the carrot shortfall. You can also substitute parsnips for half the carrots.

Fine Cooking’s Sharp Cheddar and Carrot Gratin, original recipe here

1 oz. (2 Tbs.) unsalted butter; more at room temperature for the dish

1-1/2 Tbs. extra-virgin olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, cut into 1/2-in. dice (about 1-1/2 cups)

Kosher salt

1 cup plain panko

2 Tbs. chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

2 tsp. chopped fresh thyme

1 cup heavy cream

1 Tbs. Dijon mustard

Freshly ground black pepper

3 lb. large carrots (about 12), peeled, halved lengthwise, and cut crosswise into 1/2-inch-thick half-moons

4 oz. coarsely grated sharp Cheddar (1 cup)

Position a rack in the center of the oven and heat the oven to 350°F. Butter a 9×13-in. (or similar) baking dish. In a 12-in. skillet, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion and 1/2 tsp. salt and cook, stirring occasionally with a wooden spatula, until golden-brown, 7 to 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt the butter and pour into a medium bowl. Add the panko, parsley, and thyme and toss well.

Whisk the heavy cream, mustard, 1-1/2 tsp. salt, and 1/4  tsp. pepper into the onion, scraping up any browned bits, and then stir in the carrots. Bring just to a boil, cover, lower the heat to medium low, and simmer until the carrots are crisp-tender, 10 to 12 minutes.

Spread the carrot mixture evenly in the prepared dish. Scatter the Cheddar over the carrots, top with the panko mixture, and bake until the carrots are tender when pierced with a fork and the crumbs are golden-brown, 30 to 40 minutes.

Let rest for 15 minutes before serving.



Sea Scallops with Rainbow Salad and Mustard Sauce

After unleashing the evil that is homemade Nutella on to the world, I feel compelled to repent and share something healthy(ish) but equally delicious.

Rainbow salad, in case you’re unfamiliar, is a mixture of shredded red cabbage, carrots, broccoli and cauliflower stalks. Beautiful and healthy! You can certainly make your own, but hopefully you can save some time and find it alongside the bagged coleslaw in the salad section of your grocery store.

This recipe serves two to three people. Ed and I enjoyed generously sized portions, and there was a wee little bit left over. At $17.99 a pound for good sea scallops, I wasn’t prepared to serve this to my sometimes-picky family of five, but it is good enough that I will double this recipe and serve it to adult dinner guests in the future.

Sea Scallops with Rainbow Salad and Mustard Sauce,
serves 2 to 3

1 pound of sea scallops, patted dry
salt, kosher and regular
all-purpose flour
12 oz. Rainbow Salad (shredded red cabbage, carrots, broccoli and cauliflower stalks)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons water
juice of half a lemon
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

Pat scallops dry and season with salt and pepper on both sides, then lightly coat each side with all-purpose flour. Set aside.

Heat 2 tablespoons of butter in a 12 inch skillet over medium high heat. Add the rainbow slaw, a couple generous pinches of kosher salt, fresh ground pepper, and toss to coat well. Stir occasionally, about 2 minutes, and then cover with lid for one minute. Transfer to a warmed platter.

In same skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil over medium-high heat until very hot. Add the scallops, turning them at 3 minutes, and then cook another 2 minutes. Place them atop the rainbow salad on the platter.

Turn skillet to medium-low heat, and add remaining 2 tablespoons of butter, juice of half a lemon, 2 tablespoons of water, and 1 generous tablespoon of Dijon mustard, stirring a scraping up any brown bits, until sauce is well mixed and thickened, about 1 to 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste, and pour over scallops and serve.



Homemade Nutella

I don’t recall what initially inspired me to make my own Nutella, but I’m guessing it was a combination of PMS and something I may have seen in Bon Appetit. However, once I finally looked up the Bon Appetit recipe online, I saw the reviews were pretty terrible, as were the reviews from The Splendid Table recipe. Resolute, I startled googling like a madwoman, bookmarking dozens of recipes and reviews until my head was spinning. I did not buy these hazelnuts in vain, dammit!

I knew I didn’t want additional sugar or heavy cream or powdered milk in my Nutella, three ingredients which appeared frequently. I wanted to make sure it stayed smooth and spreadable and didn’t harden into a lump, but I also wanted to make sure it wasn’t overly goopy. Most of all, I wanted it to taste as good or better than the original Nutella. Pulling from many different recipes, I came up with something which made sense to me as far as flavor and texture.

I conducted a blind taste taste on my three guinea pigs children, and they all agreed that my Nutella was far superior. Sure, they know who butters their bread, but they are also a pretty truthful bunch when it comes to important matters of dessert.

Warning! Warning! Warning! Make this at your own risk. If you need to be in a bathing suit or a wedding gown in thirty days or less, stay away from this recipe.

Dawn’s Homemade Nutella

1 cup raw hazelnuts, skins removed
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon honey
1 tablespoon cocoa powder
1 tablespoon peanut oil
12 ounces semisweet chocolate chips
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature and cut into small pieces


Preheat oven to 350 degrees. On a rimmed baking sheet, toast the hazelnuts for about 14 minutes, shaking sheet occasionally. Cool and remove any stray skin. In a Vitamix or other heavy duty blender, grind the hazelnuts into a fine powder. Add salt, peanut oil, vanilla, cocoa powder and honey. Mix in blender on highest speed until smooth.

In a double boiler, slowly melt the chocolate chips. Remove from heat and stir in the butter pieces until melted. Cool slightly and add to blender. Blend until completely smooth. Store in a glass jar, room temperature, for up to two weeks.

This does harden up a bit after 24 hours, but 15 to 30 seconds on high in the microwave (lid removed) brings it back to an easily spreadable consistency. Just be sure to store this in a glass container.