photos from NYTimes article on Jeong Kwan
Took these photos of some Chinese chives this weekend while making food inspired by the top photo of South Korean Zen Buddhist nun’s folded dumplings on a lotus leaf!
folded dumplings
dipping sauce . . .
a dozen ears of corn, ready to freeze . . .
The other day, I was taken by surprise to find corn on the cob at a farmstand in Sterling, MA. I brought a few ears home for us to have for supper and to share some next door with G.’s mother and brother.
Taking the first bite the other night, G. said, “best corn EVER” and we’ve had quite a bit of it this late summer/fall season. Although the corn kernels were nothing to write home about and looked tough, they turned out to be very tender and very sweet besides. Luscious and such a treat in the middle of October!~
So, of course, hearing the weather forecast for a heavy frost coming this Monday, I had to go back out and buy some more corn to put up in the freezer to have when the snow flies. At the farmstand were issues of “an edible feast” – a local beautifully designed compendium of recipes, articles and advertisements placed by locally sourced providers of handmade food from groceries and in restaurants.
One of the reasons I went back for more fresh corn was that the articles/recipes in the magazine sounded so appealing for a holiday meal – either at Thanksgiving or Christmas. Here’s one in all its simplicity:
Corn clam chowder
I haven’t tried this recipe as yet but it sounds straightforward enough. So, I decided to take another ride in the country to buy another batch of late corn on the cob.
Since it’s Saturday, I wanted to process the ears of corn before they spoiled, stored out in the pantry. Thankfully, G. arrived home from tuning a couple of pianos and he set to de-silking the ears of corn that I was shucking. It’s a tedious and time-consuming job to de-silk corn. Anyhow, we decided to do it by hand and not to rinse the ears under water to remove the silk since I planned to put up freezer packs of 3 ears of corn apiece and didn’t want any water mixed in with the corn kernels.
Halfway through, I remembered the recipes in the magazine that called for making a stock from the shorn corn cobs which still contained the milky flavor of the corn. Into a stockpot went all the cobs to simmer for an hour under low heat. Will store this corn ‘stock’ in the freezer along with the corn to make cream of corn soup or other recipes later on when the spirit moves me.
This might seem like a lot of effort to go to for fresh corn on the cob. But if you enjoy this summer bounty as much as we do, you’ll agree that it’ll be super tasty to have corn pudding or a corn chowder on the dinner table when there’s snow on the ground!
. . . a symbol of longevity*
This morning, I read about a nun in South Korea who cooks food that is temple food, vegan and devoid of garlic and onion. Apparently, she has been discovered by the gastronomic world and visited by chefs from all over who gather to learn her secrets. She cooks for herself and two other nuns. Sometimes for monks and visitors.
The sophistication of her cooking and its Zen simplicity is described in a lengthy article in the New York Times today. To me, the wisdom imparted by her phrase, “let nature take care of it,” in commenting about whether wild animals mess up her garden or whether things grow in orderly fashion represents the philosophical core of her way of life.
Even when we want to step back and let things work out on their own, we find ourselves fiddling around to control outcomes or to influence people to do what we want. It’s not only the American way, it’s the human way. It’s hard for us to “let nature take care of it.” But, it seems to me to make the most sense, as hard as it is to let that happen.
We don’t have to try so hard to figure out what the right thing is to do or not do. We don’t have to ease others if they don’t want to be eased. And we don’t have to try to change the outcome of our lives when we reach a certain age because we would like it to be different. It is what it is. And today at least and maybe a bit longer, I’ll let ‘nature take care of the rest.’
Here’s a link to this interesting article.
On another brilliant New England fall day, I thought I’d post a link of Piotr Anderszewski playing a Chopin mazurka . . . to me, it’s a perfect piece to accompany the Fall weather that has graced us for the past weeks.
Someone said the mazurkas, usually characterized as folk tunes, also conveyed a “measured melancholy,” an apt way to describe the gradual waning of the brilliant season now passing us by.
There’s been some fresh spinach in the fridge waiting its turn to make it to the dinner table. So this afternoon, I washed it and took the stems off. Dried it and finely chopped up a large shallot. Into some butter in a hot skillet, the shallot and spinach cooked until the greens were wilted. Minced it up and let it cool.
Then made the bechamel sauce for the cheese part of the souffle:
supper tonight!
giant pasta shells stuffed with whole-milk ricotta, grated romano cheese, a beaten egg, fresh thyme leaves, chives and basil leaves rolled up and cut into strips; filled shells placed face down on a thin layer of tomato sauce, then napped with more marinara tomato sauce, a healthy helping of grated mozzarella cheese and grated fresh parmigano cheese on top.
The quality of the cheeses makes all the difference, it seems to me. Unlike lasagna, the creaminess of the ricotta herb filling balances the acidity of the tomato sauce.
As a side, a caesar dressed hearts of romaine salad. simply scrumptious!
Note: the pasta shells were cooked al dente (6 minutes instead of 10) and the dish was baked at 350 degrees until top was browned – about a half hour (I upped the temp to 375 for the last 8 minutes.)
Watching the Swedish mystery series, “Wallander” on my laptop and knitting a wrap tunic at the same time occupied some (a lot!) of my time during this past week. Last Tuesday, I went to Noho and traded in some yarn I didn’t care for so much for some beautiful lichen-moss colored yarn by Berroco called “Blackstone Tweed.”
When I got home, I envisioned knitting a loosely-fitted cropped piece to pair with lightweight turtlenecks that would not be too warm to wear indoors in the wintertime. I made a seed stitch border edging and knitted the rest in a vertical garter stitch – knitting sideways across the sweater rather than from bottom to top. I used to have a brown tunic designed by Eskandar years ago that had a crisscross asymmetrical front that I loved and this design concept inspired me to knit the fronts as fraternal rather than identical twin pieces.
I knitted the back so that it was about three inches longer than the front. And by serendipitous happenstance (and to my initial chagrin,) I had sewn the right front pieces by mistake to the bottom of the elongated back piece instead of midway as I had already done on the left side. But, trying it on, I realized that the loose fit I was looking for would be accomplished by doing the same for both sides (too hard to follow?)
After careful pulling out the left side lest I cut into the knitting which has happened to me before (grrrrr. . .,) I realigned it and reattached it to the bottom of the back, resulting in a floppy kind of fit that was exactly what I wanted but had no idea mentally how to do when I first set out to knit this little piece. I guess the Helpers were standing by even though I didn’t know it. I also knitted two side gussets that I had done with a previous Japanese-designed vest that I had made for C. a few years ago. This design feature allowed the back and front to float on their own and to allow for a cooler fit (pun intended.) The result was just the kind of graceful floppiness of a medieval-looking piece that I had in my mind’s eye when I started the project a few days ago.
The other thing that I did, unable to let this little project go without obsessing over the details, was to knit a narrow band of stockinette trimming that I sewed as a covering over the rough edges of the back collar seams. Having done that, I was satisfied that the sweater was truly finished and complete.
Actually, it even looks pretty good on and I’m thinking of wearing a black plaid shirt underneath it for some contrast. Vive la difference knitting from scratch and groping one’s way to the end! I guess I lucked out on this one — thanks, Helpers!
Today’s Sunday breakfast: I’ve been wanting to try Ruth Reichl’s pancake recipe since her cookbook arrived last week and today seemed like a good to make them. But I used fresh buttermilk instead of milk as called for in her ingredients. Here’s Ruth’s recipe, a landslide favorite at Gourmet Magazine:
Melt 1 stick unsalted butter in skillet that you’re going to cook the pancakes in;
Whisk together 1 cup buttermilk (or milk), 2 organic large eggs & 1 tablespoon vegetable oil; then add butter to mixture;
Add 1 cup flour, 4 teaspoons of baking powder (without aluminum) and 4 teaspoons of sugar (scant) plus a pinch of salt.
Mix together by hand and cook the pancakes in the skillet that was used to melt the butter. Heat up some Jones country sausages in another pan until golden brown. Serve with butter, pure maple syrup and cups of hot coffee.
Enjoyed while reading the Sunday New York Times with my husband on a peaceful, sunny Sunday morning. Doesn’t get any better than this!
A friend told me the other day that one of her favorite meals for lunch is caesar salad. And that the Vermont restaurant she went to near where she lived served “limp lettuce” and the dressing wasn’t very tasty. She said she “loved anchovies” – which coincided with her affection for oysters, clams and other seafood that I also love. We go out for lunch together every two weeks or so when we meet up at an antiques group shop that she runs in New Hampshire.
So today, I bought some buttermilk and a tin of flat anchovies at the grocery store. I rinsed out my small size red Cuisinart food processor and dried it before adding in the following:
2 fresh cloves of garlic, smashed, peeled and ends trimmed
2 fillets of anchovies
Whizzed those ingredients in the small processor; then added:
scant cup Hellmann’s mayonnaise
2 tablespoons fresh squeezed lemon juice
1/3 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese (on a microplane)
small dash of Worcestershire sauce
coarse black pepper (there’s already a lot of salt in the anchovies and parmesan)
1/4 cup of fresh buttermilk (Kate’s)
Blended all of the above in the processor and tasted it: DIVINE!! added a little more buttermilk to thin it out and poured into a clean glass jar.
The recipe I followed (and tweaked) mentioned the dressing is better after it sits in the refrigerator for about 3 hours. It also stated that it would hard to resist dipping a spoon into it for a taste (it’s so good!)
I closed up the tin of flat anchovies and wrapped it tightly in a plastic bag, storing it in the freezer door for future use.
I wanted to try it out for lunch and opened up some hearts of romaine. Into my favorite green bowl, I broke some of the tender center leaves into bite size pieces, added garlic croutons and a few salad shrimp. After adding the dressing and tossing, I grated a little parmesan cheese on top.
It tasted scrumptious! light, tasty and satisfying. The dressing is a keeper recipe for sure and the green salad base could be a supper one-bowl dish with some grilled salmon or teriyaki chicken tenders on top. Yum!
Postscript (a week later): I’ve just made this salad dressing again and have tweaked it slightly. To me, the flavors are a little stronger, more piquant and so tasty that I have to go and have a spoonful every once in awhile. Stored in a glass jar (previous salsa size) with a screw top:
4-5 fillets of anchovies; 3 cloves of garlic, smashed and cut up; (run through small food processor before adding other ingredients.) Add 1/3 cup shredded romano cheese and process with the garlic/anchovy mixture. Then add cup of Hellmann’s mayonnaise, 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, 1 tablespoon of Poupon dijon mustard, splash of Worcestershire sauce, Maldon salt and coarse pepper; 1/4 cup of cream/milk. Run processor until smooth. Taste for seasoning. Add more cream (or buttermilk) if too thick. Pour into glass jar and lick the bowl.
“montauk daisies” – in rockport, ma., a seaside town, there are huge plantings of white flowers that emerge in the Fall. They even sell these perennial plants at the local grocery store. I brought a few plants back home a few years ago to provide some blooms when almost everything else has gone by in late September and early October.
With almost no care at all, they have multiplied by leaps and bounds in just a few years.
mulberryshoots 