Great Food! Easy Recipes! Maybe.

A few years ago I lived in Knoxville, Tennessee, and frequented a place called McKay Used Books & CDs. It was a rundown jewel of a place, and I spent hours rummaging around. 


Then they moved. 


The new location didn't have the dilapalated funkiness of the old place, but the space increased significantly. Picture two side-by-side basketball courts packed full of books.


And the cookbook aisle? 


Let's just say I spent a lot of time in that cookbook aisle. So very, very much time. 



One of the cookbooks I picked up at McKay's was The Working Stiff Cookbook: Great Food! Easy Recipes! written by Bob Sloan with illustrations by Michael Klein. I never really used the book much, but kept in in my collection. And finally decided to do something with it.


The book is a visual feast, with a vintage feel: pastel orange, green, blue, yellow. The design is carried throughout the book, and -to me- it's what makes this a special cookbook. Even if I rarely cook from it. 


I tried the Pork Chops with Orange Glaze and that worked out A-OK. Beautiful. But I'm not a good judge of when meat passes that magical place of being just right and moves into desert dry territory. Thank goodness there was orange sauce and rice pilaf. 

Pork Chops with Orange Glaze and Rice Pilaf

The premise of the book is simple: you've been working all day. It's 8pm and you just walked in the house and are famished - now what? The cookbook offers many suggestions for quick and easy sustenance, plus clever writing. To wit:

Whack the [chicken] breasts with the flat side of a meat pounder, invoking the names of any personal or professional nemeses that might fuel your strength. (p. 38)

Sometimes I'm sitting at my desk in the late afternoon trying to straighten a paper clip and then restore it to its original shape (a metaphor for the existential dilemma all of us live with) when I have a surge of a panic about what to make for dinner. Then I remember--it's pork chop night--and my worries cease. (p. 58.)

I also made the Mexican Lasagna which was colorful, but didn't measure up in the taste department. Besides, I kept thinking of an old recipe I got in the '90s for a similar dish that's much better.  

Mexican Lasagna with Red Sauce and Cheese

While I appreciate the premise and humor throughout the book, the pale orange page numbers are a challenge to read against the dark green background. 


If you don't already know it, I have a bit of a sweet tooth, so I always look for a dessert section. There isn't one. Instead, a handful of desserts are weaved through the book. 


I planned to try another recipe, but then it was time for Christmas. Then it was quickly back to work and wondering what to cook for dinner after a busy day. Can't say I'll reach for this cookbook again. 

Crabby Corn Soup

I picked up my copy of Soups and Sandwiches: Wholesome Ideas for Quick Lunches at the recent library sale, and piled it onto the other cookbooks. Hungry for something to cook, I grabbed the book as I headed to the laundromat to wash the bed linens.

Once the comforters and sheets were slurshing around in the commercial washer I perused the cookbook and found the Crab and Corn Soup on page 31. It looked easy and simple, so I added it to my "Make This Soon" list.

(I have no idea what "slursh" means, but I like the way it sounds. I also do not keep a "Make This Soon List" although  perhaps I should add a list like that to my Remember The Milk account.)

I noticed a few odd things about the cookbook. First, it was hard to understand how the soups were organized. Sure, there is a table of contents, but when you're looking through the book, there's no chapter titles to indicate that you've moved from vegetable & exotic soups to creamy soups. Same thing's true of the sandwiches.

The index is also seriously lacking. It merely lists the titles of the various recipes, not the actual ingredients - which would be more helpful to any reader searching for a recipe to prepare quickly.

Likewise, I found the sandwich area not...lunchable. These seem more like canapes, finger food, little nibbles for parties, rather than something to sustain me through a busy work day. And with a subtitle like "Wholesome Ideas for Quick Lunches," I was surprised to find so many recipes with multiple steps; for example, the Salmon Pinwheels I made involved a rolling pin, rolling bread, and a two hour waiting period. Finally the recipe ingredients are sometimes vague: what "mixed herbs" do the authors mean? I have no idea.

And with two authors who are "home economists" -an outdated term if there ever has been one- I was wary. I shouldn't have been.

The Crab and Corn Soup was easy, tasty, and I imagine wholesome as well. It was definitely a quick soup to prepare, and a nice twist on your typical egg drop soup. I substituted shrimp for the crab with no problem. I was stymied with the "small piece of gingerroot" because what do the authors mean by small? I guessed.

One small chunk of gingerroot.

Ingredients: egg, cornstarch, scallions, shrimp

Finished Soup

Despite the general oddness of the book, I enjoyed this soup. I could have added more gingerroot. I also like that each recipe has a photograph that clearly illustrates what the finished product should look like. As a bonus, many soups have a suggested accompaniment recipe. For example, the Cream of Cauliflower Soup on page 27 also offers a recipe to make Cheese Snippets to flat in the soup, while the Cream of Carrot Soup on the same page has Herb Croutons (with one teaspoon of "dry herbs" as the flavoring.)

Crab and Corn Soup

3 3/4 cup chicken stock
1 small piece gingerroot, peeled
2 teaspoons light soy sauce
1 tablespoon dry sherry
1 15oz can creamed corn
salt and pepper to taste
2 teaspoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons water
4 oz crab (or shrimp) chopped
2 eggs, beaten
2 scallions, minced

In a large saucepan, combine stock and gingerroot. Simmer 15 minutes. Remove gingerroot and stir in soy sauce, sherry, and creamed corn. Season with salt and pepper. Simmer 5 minutes.

In a small bowl, blend cornstarch and water. Stir in stock mixture. Stir in crab (or shrimp) and heat until mixture thickens.

Bring mixture to a slow simmer and slowly pour in beaten eggs in a thin stream, stirring constantly. Do not allow soup to boil. Garnish soup with sliced green onions. Makes 4 to 6 servings.

I Miss It So!

There's a book out about Jacobson's. You say that to anyone from the lower peninsula of Michigan, and they're bound to get misty-eyed. I'm definitely in that crowd.

Jacobson's (affectionately referred to as "Jake's" by clientele) was a retailer of the first order for much of the last 100 years in this state and closed their doors in 2002. At the end of it, there were about thirty stores in the chain spreading throughout Michigan, Ohio, Florida and beyond. For me, though, none of those stores bring on my sad puppy-dog face as much as the Saginaw store.  

Filling an entire block in downtown Saginaw, Jacobson's was the premier department store in the region. If you needed a dress for a special occasion, you could always find it at Jacobson's. Heck, if you needed anything to beautify yourself or your home, they probably had it or could order it.

Sure, there were other department stores in the area. Almost weekly mom and I trekked through Seitner's, Weichman's, and Heavenrich's. But Jacobson's stood out from the crowd. Way, way out in front of the crowd.

And for a birthday or Christmas, nothing was better than seeing a large silver box embossed with a pattern of the letter "J" and tied with a red ribbon. It didn't matter that I usually knew what was in the box, it was the fact that the clothing came from Jacobson's.

• That red terry-cloth robe I can't let go of because it's still in decent shape? Jacobson's. 
• That red wool dress that made me feel great every time I wore it? Jacobson's.
• The 1970s cool plaid bell-bottom pants & matching bomber jacket? Jacobson's.
• Most of my best clothing throughout high school? Totally Jacobson's and the Miss J Shop.

I was on the Miss J Board for a year in high school, and then, following college graduation, worked in the office on the second floor. Several times each day it was my job (and that of my co-worker) to walk through the store and collect tickets from sales. It meant that I knew the store backwards and forwards, and always knew where the best items were on sale. It also meant that a good deal of my paycheck went to those best items.

Did I say "tickets?"

I sure did.

It took Jacobson's a very, very long time to adapt to using registers and computers in the store. So when I was working in the 80s, the people on the sales floor were hand writing sales slips. And, from each item sold, they removed a ticket that included stock number, size, and price. I returned the tickets and sales slips to the office, where they were batched and totaled by a small, dedicated staff. Just imagine what it was like at Christmas time to collect and process all of that. By hand.

Jacobson's I Miss It So - The Story of a Michigan Fashion Institution by Bruce Allen Kopytek delves into the history and mystery of the stores. He reveals the humble origins of the store and the reign of Nathan Rosenfeld. He also explores many of the individual stores, including Saginaw. Thought there are interviews with some people who worked in Detroit area stores, I was sad to see there weren't any interviews with people who worked in the 207,000 square foot store. The handful of pictures of the store, though, are something special.

Still, this is a food blog, and focuses on cookbooks. So what does a book about ancient department stores in Michigan have to do with food or cookbooks?

As the stores were mostly free-standing, they often had gourmet sweets and restaurants. The new book has many beloved recipes from Jacobson's. And though I can't say I recognize a single recipe, it warms my heart to be cooking some chicken salad that -at one time- was indeed offered in a Jake's store.

Well, it kind of warms my heart. It's salad, so nothing warm. But it's tasty and beautiful. Like Jake's.

Jacobson's Cashew Chicken Salad
(adapted from Jacobson's...I Miss It So.)

4 cups or so chicken, cooked and diced
1/4 cup scallion, chopped
2 tablespoons Craisins (those dried cranberry raisin-like things)
1/4 cup cashew pieces, chopped
2 tablespoons mango jam (with chunks of Mango if you can find it)
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 teaspoon curry powder

The original recipe calls for a little celery and mango chutney, but I wasn't going to buy celery for just 1/4 cup. And there's no way I would buy mango chutney when I have a perfectly good jar of mango jam from World Market in the fridge. Mix it all together, chill for at least two hours, and savor. Preferably while dressed in your finest outfit and sipping wine from a crystal goblet.

P.S. Someone was going to get this book for Christmas, but then I read it, cooked from it, and posted about it here. So much for surprise gifts. Unless that someone might still have a Jacobson's box lurking in a closet?

No Ham About It

I have a  problem with Angry Birds*, really just a minor little thing.

I cannot stop playing.

I played through Angry Birds, then went back and got three stars on most levels. I got Angry Birds Rio before I knew there was a movie. And I have Angry Birds, Seasons, too.

I sometimes forget to stop playing long enough to eat.

Thank goodness game publisher Rovio Mobile has released an Angry Birds cookbook - now I can play Angry Birds and eat Angry Birds, too. Sure to feed your "app-etite," Angry Birds: Bad Piggies' Recipes is set to be released on December 6th.

It has darling and colorful cartoon drawings of the main Angry Birds characters. Except, there's trouble in Angry Birds land as the Bad Piggie is cooking up eggs. Forty egg recipes to be egg-zact. And that only makes the birds angrier.

And, stretching my philosophical wings, that explains the conundrum we're faced as humans:  we have a difficult time seeing, accepting, or respecting a different point of view. Any difference of opinion may be met with a venomous reply...hence quarrels, arguments, and ultimately wars. Some day, these pigs and birds need to sit down at the negotiating table and work out a compromise. The two dissenting sides attempted a "peace treaty" on an Israeli comedy show.  [Warning: The birds drop the f-bomb several times. And I'm not referring to the big white bird that drops bombs or the little black bomb bird, either.]

Needless to say, the treaty failed. Let's hope us humans can do better...and that's enough philosophy because Angry Birds: Bad Piggies' Egg Recipes has nothing to do with world view or politics. It has to do with cooking eggs.

Which is enough to keep the epic battle between Pigs and Birds going for a long, long time.

This is such a cute idea for a gift for any Angry Birds addictee. (I feel a long side note regarding 12-step programs for people who play Angry Birds too much coming on...must stop. Must stop.)

I'm curious to see the book in person, though, as on my computer screen, the colors are toned down - not as brilliant as on my iPod. The illustrations are just adorable - a hot air balloon full of pigs (and grilling eggs) barely escapes a group of birds, while nearby a pig hides in a tree.

The three recipes I was able to see in the preview were simple, and I was disappointed that the preview didn't include more recipes. Looks like there will be forty recipes total "ranging from scrambled eggs and omelets to Eggs Benedict and quiche." A quick peak at the preview on Amazon shows egg salad, aioli sauce, meringue, and more - accompanied by illustrations, of course.

The book keeps the humor going through "Be a pig for a day, no worries in the world, no Angry Birds trying to knock you down. The kitchen is your pigpen and life's good."  I can only imagine what the Angry Birds will cook up next.

Oink Oink!

*For those who have no idea what this post is about, Angry Birds is one of the most successful  games in the world. With more than twelve million downloads from iTunes, you are missing out on a worldwide phenomenon of time wasting & pig chasing. Go help the birds get their eggs back!

Bar Cookie Discrimination - And Soup With Salad

I'll confess that I'm not a person who gets excited about the holidays.

You know the type of person I'm talking about? I'm picturing an over-the-top co-worker who decorates their oatmeal cubicle for every holiday and also dresses for the holiday right down to a a sparkly sweater, holiday-themed turtleneck,  matching socks, and -especially for Christmas- a Santa hat with jingle bell.

I'm equally not celebrating the fact that one of the local radio stations decided to begin broadcasting Christmas music 24/7 - in early November. Please! Halloween had just ended.

Christmas cookies, on the other hand, I can relate to. So on a recent business trip I picked up a copy of  The Christmas Cookie Club by Ann Pearlman. But, uh, I have two small cookie-related issues with the book:  

1. I like bar cookies. In fact, I like bar cookies so much that I started a tumblr feed for them. 
2. Individual cookies are too much work - too much standing, too much stirring. I know this because I have made large quantities of them on my own many years ago, and have refused to make them ever since then.  

So perhaps you can understand why I was rather appalled that the hard-working bar cookie was written off immediately in the opening salvo of The Christmas Cookie Club: "No bars. They stick to each other and crumble."

No bar cookies allowed? Bah humbug.

Nevertheless, I still enjoyed the book. It was a light-hearted, gossipy, chick-flicky romp through an annual Christmas cookie club event, accompanied by cookie recipes and ingredient history lessons. I don't really know what the history lessons were doing in the book, but they were informative and brief.

The characters are stereotypical, but lovable: there's Marnie, the party hostess (aka, head cookie bitch,) who's widowed with children and learning to love again; then there's Vera, the former cocaine addicted stripper who turned her life around, and there's Sissy representing for all women of color replete with sassy attitude and talented (yet troubled) children.

The premise of the novel is equally simple: there this Christmas Cookie party every year. There are rules you must follow. If you don't follow the rules, you're out of the club. One of the club rules is that you have to share the story of why you chose these cookies this year - which becomes a metaphor for everything that's happened to you in the last twelve months because apparently the characters rarely see each other except on this mandatory first Monday in December. Still, as a Christmas Cookie Club participant, you get some eating, some drinking, some dancing, and twelve dozen cookies out of the event, plus all of the recipes.

In fact, there are more than twenty recipes in the book - and not only for cookies. Being a bar cookie snob, I snubbed the hand-rolled, fastidiously decorated cookies throughout the book. I am not going to take the time to hand-write fortunes, then hand-turn the little fortune cookies even though I have all of the time in the world to do so. And truth be told, not all of the cookies are that fussy.

I went for the Roasted Carrot Ginger Soup on page 327 and the Mandarin Orange Salad on page 328, and wasn't disappointed one iota. I chopped and combined the carrot, parsnip, onion, and brown sugar.

Chopped Vegetables with Brown Sugar

I poured in chicken stock, covered with aluminum foil, and placed into the oven for a couple of hours. Once removed from the oven, I carefully spooned all into a large stock pot, and added additional chicken stock. Then I let it boil for awhile, and finally pureed.

Making the salad was even more of a breeze. That involved macerating mandarin oranges in a combination of honey and cinnamon, and mixing with olive oil, salt, and pepper. That was added to fresh spinach and topped with toasted walnuts.

Mandarin Oranges, Honey, Cinnamon

The result? One fabulous late autumn lunch for me and more soup in the freezer for later. Delightful - just like The Christmas Cookie Club by Ann Pearlman (even without bar cookies.)

Soup and Salad

Roasted Carrot Ginger Soup
1 1/2 pounds carrots, peeled and halved lengthwise
1 pound parsnips, peeled and quartered lengthwise
1 large onion, sliced
3-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons packed dark brown sugar
8 cups rich chicken broth, more if needed
Salt to taste
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1/4 cup creme fraiche for garnish
Snipped fresh chives for garnish

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Combine the carrots, parsnip, onion, and ginger in a shallow roasting pan. Dot with butter and sprinkle with brown sugar. Pour two cups of the broth into the pan. Cover well and bake until the vegetables are very tender, about 2 hours. Transfer the vegetables and broth to a large soup pot. Add the remaining six cups of broth. Season with salt and cayenne pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer partially covered for 10 minutes. (I completely forgot the butter, cayenne, creme fraiche, or chives. Still delicious!)

Mandarin Orange Salad
11-ounce can mandarin orange segments, drained
1 tablespoon honey
cinnamon
Handful of walnuts (broken into large pieces)
Lettuce (romaine, red or green leaf or mixed)
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper, to taste

Place the mandarin oranges in a small bowl. Add honey and sprinkle with cinnamon. Set aside for several hours (or longer). Toast walnuts at 350 for 3 minutes, and let them cool. Wash and tear lettuce into bite-size pieces. Add oranges. Add enough olive oil to wet greens and toss well. Sprinkle with a little salt and pepper and sprinkle with walnuts. Note: If taking to a potluck, wait to toss with olive oil and keep walnuts in a small bag until ready to serve. (I used spinach instead of lettuce and toasted my walnuts in a dry pan on the stove top until nearly smoking and slightly burnt.)

P.S. CBS picked up rights to the book, so don't be surprised if The Christmas Cookie Club becomes another one of those oft-repeated holiday specials.

Two For The Road, Cooking For One

I recently explored The Pleasures of Cooking for One by Judith Jones. I understand now why she was recognized by the James Beard Foundation with a Lifetime Achievement Award, and I sure wish I would have had this book earlier in my life. 


I had a small pork tenderloin in the freezer, so decided to try the recipe for same on page 42. It's a simple enough recipe, yet, when push came to shove, I didn't bother with the marinade. I hadn't thought about it early enough - like in the  morning before work - and wasn't interested in waiting around for the marination. 


I seasoned the meat with a little salt, pepper, garlic powder, and placed the meat in a pan for roasting along side parsnips, turnip, and a itty bitty winter squash. 

Small Squash

Small Roasted Pork Tenderloin

The result was one boring dinner. The pork tenderloin was perfect, but the vegetables could have roasted longer. 


The next night I moved on to one of two "recipe two" choices that Jones offers: Pork Stir-Fry With Vegetables. I confess I didn't add as much ginger as the recipe called for. I don't think I added the full amount of freshly minced garlic either. I also confess that that's probably why the sauce wasn't so flavorful.


Even with my personal failings, by adding sugar-snap peas, bell pepper, mushrooms, cashews, and a few shakes of sesame oil, this was a winning recipe. 

And it was the perfect amount for one person (who wanted leftovers for tomorrow.)


The chapter on cheese is indispensable. The advice on nine ways to use turkey is fabulous advice for the holiday season; Jones suggests soup, tettrazini, pilaf, strata, salad, croquette, sandwich, crepe, and finally hash - all with suggested accompaniments and spices. The book is packed with little nuggets of information to savor.

Opening pages of the cheese chapter

Honestly, none of recipes that I tried blew me away. What they did, though, was give me confidence, and a certain sense of home. A comfort zone. 


It's as if you're in the kitchen with Jones, and she's passing on her knowledge to you - and only you. About her Vermont garden's never-ending supply of zucchini, Jones writes...

'Anyone who has a garden knows about the pressure to eat up the zucchini you've planted. You hate to see it go to waste. But the advantage to growing your own is that you can harvest the zucchini while they are still very young and have a more intense flavor (and you can use the male blossoms, too.)"

While I was reading and cooking from the book, more than once I thought to myself (or said aloud to the cats,)  "wish I would have known this when I was..."  


So if you've got to buy a gift for someone just learning to cook, consider The Pleasures of Cooking for One. It's the type of gift that will certainly reverberate through the years. It will definitely not be leaving my crowded cookbook shelves. 

Food, Friendship & Math

In addition to enjoying cooking, I also love to read - hence my ever-expanding collection of cookbooks. But how do you "collect" an e-book? 

I recently did some traveling for business, and took along a paperback and an e-book. I liked reading from both. The paperback was Perdido Street Station, and -let me tell you- you don't want to cook anything from the steampunk book unless it's for Halloween. (It's a good read, certainly, but not a cookbook.)

The e-book was The Recipe Club: A Tale of Food and Friendship by Andrea Israel and Nancy Garfinkel with recipes by Melissa Clark, and was published in 2009.

It's a breezy read, mostly composed of a series of emails (current times) and letters (from childhood) written between two "friendemies" who were once best of friends. 

Recipes were created specifically for the book and reflect story lines a la "Breakup with Boyfriend Wine and Dine;" that's not an actual recipe title from the book, but you get the idea. 

The Recipe Club is clever, but not pithy: I read from e-cover to cover in less than a day. I didn't care for the stereotypical good girl/bad girl contrast, nor the way everything works out perfect (too perfect) in the end. 

Regardless, this is the kind of marshmallow fluff of a book I like to snack on, a sort of literary comfort food. 

My favorite recipe title has to be the "Mighty Math Muffins." I'm math-challenged, but after reading this recipe, I'm wondering if it's simply an aversion to math class versus recipe calculations? Here's hoping you can solve the story problems in the recipe; the book gives answers.

Mighty Math Muffins

What's 3/4 cup of sugar times 2?

What's 1/2 of 1/2 cup of butter?
What's 1/6 of a dozen eggs?
What's 1/2 of 32 ounces of all purpose flour?
If a tablespoon has 3 teaspoons and you need 2 tablespoons minues 4 teaspoons, what do you need?
What's a teaspoon of salt minus 3/4?
Waht's 1/4 teaspoon of lemon zest times 4?
What's 1/4 of 16 ounces of milk?
How many cups of chopped cranberries do you need if you need 16 ounces?


Grease muffin tins. Then, when you have the math solutions, mix up the mysterious ingredients. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 25-30 minutes.

Sage Me From Disaster

I tried the Cooking Light app recently and was pleasantly surprised with my first selection of recipes, so decided to try another combination: Chicken with Sage Butter, Garlic-Roasted Kale, and Herb Mashed Sweet Potatoes

Like recipes in Cooking Light magazine, the app give details. For example, here's the delectable screenshot of the Herb Mashed Sweet Potatoes:

Screenshot of Herb Mashed Sweet Potatoes

The lower four windows provide menu accompaniment suggestions. In the upper right corner, you can save the recipe and retrieve at a later date, or build your own menu. There is also a dropdown menu in the upper left corner to select the type of food you're looking for: entree, side, dessert, and so on.

Tapping "See Recipe" in the upper right corner shows you something like this:

List of ingredients

Note that each recipe has an Overview (the picture,) Ingredients, and Directions. The ingredients are detailed, easy to follow. So are the directions - and each ends with calorie, fat, protein, carb, fiber, and more counted and displayed in bold:

Calorie Display

All good, right?

Then I started cooking, and the app was not to blame for what followed.

Cooking is a study in second-by-second mindfulness. You must be attentive to what you are cooking and to what you are doing at all times. If you fail to pay attention, something's bound to happen.

I had an extraordinary amount of kale in the house - both from the last weeks of my CSA membership, as well as from the local store. I washed it up and blanched with the intention of freezing immediately. And then I lost my concentration.

In emptying the large pot of boiling hot water, I dumped a sizeable portion on my left hand. I cussed, dropped the hot pan, then picked it up and finished pouring the water. I saved as much the kale as I could, started cooled water running on my hand. This happened in a matter of a minute or so, and my fingers felt like they were on fire.

After the burning subsided, I headed to the computer to ensure I'd treated the burn correctly. I had, and there was no need to call friends with medical experience or rush to the ER. I returned to the kitchen and kept running cool water on the burn. I watched for signs of blistering, and was relieved there was none.

Once again, I didn't bring my iPod Touch into the kitchen. My kitchen's just to small the the potential for water-induced damage too high. I wrote out the bare minimum instructions for the recipes and got started.

I minced shallots, threw them in a pan with some olive oil and brown sugar, and set others aside for a sauce. I set a peeled potato on another burner to boil. I pounded the chicken thin, dredged with salt, pepper, and flour.

I also prepped the kale. Or rather, I didn't use kale, but instead chose Tatsoi. This is another dark, leafy green, and has a mild taste. I don't like the sharper tasting greens, so this is a wonderful find. I figured I could mix it with olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic, and roast quickly in the oven for about the time suggested in the recipe.

The chicken went into the pan, and I drained the sweet potatoes. I returned to the oven, stirred the tatsoi, and mashed the sweet potatoes with the shallot and brown sugar mix.

I flipped the chicken and returned to the oven. And was greeted with a wave of smoke - the tastoi was burned, mostly. I blinked my eyes, pulled the pan out, and set it aside.

Burnt Tatsoi

I pulled the chicken out of the pan and set it on a cutting board to rest. A pat of butter went into the pan, along with sage leaves, followed quickly by the remaining shallots, salt, pepper, and fresh-squeezed lemon. I used a whisk to stir the whole thing up, and the sauce was ready in no time.

I centered the herb mashed sweet potatoes on the plate, added chicken and sauce. I put some beautiful sage leaves on the side for pictures. Looks good, right?

Chicken with Sage Butter. Herb Mashed Sweet Potatoes

After picture taking, I decided to taste the tastoi, and was pleasantly surprised. While the vast majority was burnt and crispy, some was salvageable - and had a roasty autumn flavor.

The meal was prepared in little over an hour that floated by quickly. And, despite the burns to my fingers and tatsoi, the meal tasted delicious. I can honestly say that I've rarely prepared a bad recipe from the Cooking Light group.

I do not, however, recommend the app. For me it's just too cumbersome to operate while cooking. I can't see using a wet finger to tap on the screen to move from ingredients to directions, or from recipe to recipe. If it was all shown on one screen - maybe. Do yourself a favor, save money on the app and buy the magazine.

Halibuloo, Green Beans, Baked Apples

So as you probably know (or at least you've heard,) there's an "app" for everything.

An app is a small application to install on your iPhone that helps you organize your life. There is an app to  helps you (and your pet birds) destroy mean pigs - or perhaps save your virtual home from zombie invasion? I confess to enjoying both - and the Osho Zen Tarot Deck, too.

But don't even get me started trying to count the number and variety of apps out there to help you in the kitchen. I tried the Cooking Light app recently.

I used to subscribe to Cooking Light years ago, when one would actually subscribe to a magazine. With the internet, that doesn't happen much anymore. I can Google for just about anything, and most recipes from magazines are available online either before or shortly after publication. Still, I always liked most recipes I tried from Cooking Light, so I figured it was worth testing.

Despite being challenging to navigate on an iPod touch, browsing on an iPad would be no trouble as with a simple swish of a finger you see one glorious mouth-watering photo after another. I was entranced by the Halibut with tomato relish. I selected Brown-Butter Green Beans and Baked Apples with Chai Syrup as accompaniments.

Screenshot of Halibut with Tomato Relish

There was no halibut in my local grocery store, so I substituted fresh cod. While at the grocery store, I figured I would receive a tomato or two in this week's CSA package, so didn't buy any. But after I got home, I decided to make the fish immediately so improvised with avacado, shallot, lemon, pepper, garlic, cumin, olive oil, and a little sesame oil.

I reviewed the recipes, decided to not have the iPod on the counter while prepping and quickly wrote vague directions for all recipes. I taped them to the overhead cupboard, and winged the rest of the meal.

Hand-written vague directions

With the app, it's nearly impossible to know what needs to be prepped unless you've got all of the recipes in front of you.

With an archaic piece of paper, though, I could easily see that I needed to have the apples in the oven first, then prep the green beans, followed by the avocado mix for the fish. Only after those were prepped and the apple was in the oven did I begin to cook the fish and beans.

And while there is a menu feature, the app doesn't give suggestions for preparing a meal in a timely and efficient manner. And that is one huge strike against the app as time and efficiency are crucial for the modern cook. I stuck to my piece of paper and carried on.

The water came to boil, I dropped the green beans in, and the fish went into the pan to saute. A short while later the green beans were drained, shocked in cold water, and combined with browned butter, lemon, lemon zest, and salt and pepper. The fish finished shortly, flaking apart perfectly in the pan, and onto the plate they both went. About that time the apples were coming out of the oven, and I was ready to eat.

Browned-Butter Green Beans with Lemon

Cod with Sesame-Avocado Relish

Baked Apples with Chai Syrup

These recipes didn't disappoint; they were fast and easy to prepare, and quite tasty. But frankly, I didn't use the app while cooking.

With all of the potential liquids to invade the delicate interworkings, I just didn't want to chance an iPod disaster in the kitchen. And besides, have you tried to read and follow a detailed recipe from an iPod? It's a tiny screen. No way. Maybe on an iPad with a stand...and waterproofing.

There was, however, one app I did use while cooking - and I use it often when preparing multiple dishes. Kitchen Pad Timer kept track of cooking times for all items; in fact, it can manage up to four items on the stove top and four items in the oven. I wonder if the Cooking Light app will improve with a second use? We'll see soon.

Glad Rags For Diners - Part Two

My companions and I had just spent more than an hour meticulously investigating (and buying) delightful finds from Glad Rags Resale on Columbus Avenue in Bay City, and boy - we were hungry.

Old City Hall Restaurant at 814 Saginaw Street won the dinner debate, and it was an excellent (if a bit pricey) choice. After reading the menu, here's what we ate:

Gumbo Soup.  Cajun-styled spices, okra. Nearly too hot for me!

Sometimes when splitting items with a group, there can be a negative attitude from the waiter or waitress. That was not the case at the Old City Hall Restaurant, as we each received a small cup of soup to taste.

I also had to take pictures as fast as possible as hunger also makes people impatient. And the food all smelled so good!

Grilled Chicken Nachos

The chicken nachos were tasty, but nothing special. The corn tortillas were extra hard to chew and I wish there had been a fresh tomato salsa or or guacamole included on the side.

Artichoke Chicken in Creamy Lemon Butter Sauce

Served with seasonal vegetables the artichoke chicken was disappointing, yet certainly satisfying. I did enjoy the creamy lemon butter sauce and the crisp green beans.

Lobster Hush Puppies with Honey Chili sauce

I'd come back to Old City Hall Restaurant just to be able to eat the Lobster Hush Puppies again. I wish the sauce wasn't so hot (err, that's my issue for sure.) The little bit of the sauce I tasted had great promise:

Think honey,

and then think Thai Chili.

Add a bite of lobster,

fried crunchiness,

and feel your taste buds dance in delight!

Saginaw Street Shops in Bay City, Michigan

We finished dinner by splitting a piece of red velvet cake. No picture, sorry - the cake was pummeled by three fast-moving forks.

The Old City Hall Restaurant is located in the building that was the first city hall in Bay City. It's said that there are ghosts in the building, though I didn't see or feel any during our visit. We arrived at just after 5pm, and the restaurant was practically empty. Over the course of the next hour, the place really filled up. Despite the rather lackluster food, I would definitely return to this casual restaurant. Plus there are shops and other eateries to explore nearby.

The menu at Old City Hall Restaurant changes seasonally. I wonder what they're cooking up for autumn?

Old City Hall Restaurant
814 Saginaw Street, Bay City, MI 48708
(On Saginaw Street between 5th and Center.)
989-892-4140
M-F Dinner 5p-10p
Tues-Fri Lunch 11:30-5p
Saturday Happy Hour 3p, Dinner 4p-10p

Glad Rags For Diners - Part One

There's nothing like spending the day with friends browsing stores and eating great food. Recently, I went to Bay City, Michigan with a couple of friends to visit a store that doesn't sell food, but is surely a feast for the eyes. And then we had dinner.

The day started with a quick trip into Espresso Milano to pick up refreshments. This indie, one-location only coffee house in downtown Midland, Michigan opened in 1993 and has been going strong ever since. They're located at 137 Ashman, and are open from very early to very late. I had the summer special Ginger-Mango Spritzer, and loved it. I also loved the courteous service, but didn't like that back entry door. While conveniently located next to parking, there's a step down, and I wish it had been better marked...nearly twisted my ankle.

The half hour drive to Bay City passed quickly as we talked about our lives, and in no time at all we parked in front of Glad Rags 814 Columbus Avenue. Owned and operated by super-stylish Mary Bush, the store has had many permutations and locations over the years. If you're looking for a vertible explosion of color, fabric, and style, this is a store you want to visit.

Glad Rags specializes in Resale clothing, so expect the unexpected, and plan to spend a good hour or longer looking through the two floors of mostly women's clothing. Be on the lookout for designer duds, too. I spotted (and nearly fainted) at the sight of a Christian Dior black wool dress and coat set from the 1950's; the dress still had original petticoats.

A peek at the ground floor of Glad Rags.

Hats, Scarves, Purses, Jewelry - Accessories of All Kinds (but nothing edible.)

A small portion of the shoe selection at Glad Rags.

I ended up walking away with an original Jean Paul Gaultier alpaca and silk turtleneck sweater for under $100 (plus a few other things as well.)

One of the most delightful things about Glad Rags is owner Mary Bush. Don't hesitate to ask her for fashion advice as she has a knack for finding just the right accessory or helping you find the styles that work best for you. Be sure to bring plenty of cash or a local check as credit cards are not accepted.

And then we had dinner (See Part Two.)

Glad Rags Resale (no website)
814 Columbus Avenue, Bay City, Michigan 48706
989-892-5859
Wednesday through Saturday 12p-6p

Food Lover's Note: Glad Rags is located just down the street from the Bay County Market where area farmers offer produce to the retail and wholesale markets.

Dining In Denver - Part 1

Occasionally I get out of the office and travel for business. Recently I was at the Grand Hyatt in downtown Denver for a couple of days. I can't say enough about the breathtaking views from the 38th floor Pinnacle Club. And while it was non-stop business during the day, after working hours ended, I found some beautiful architecture and excellent eats.

Smashing Salad
A few hours after arriving in Denver, I wondered the 16th Street Pedestrian Mall in a sleep-deprived and hungry state, then found MAD Greens, and was in salad heaven. MAD Greens specializes in custom-made salads, soups, panini's and wraps - most named after famous dead people: Dionysos, Ty Cobb, Edgar Allan Poe, and so on. Founders Marley Hodgson and Dan Long purport the salads were invented by the celebrities. I selected the MAD Molly Brown - a salad of spinach, green onions, mozzarella, tomatoes and grilled sweet onions with Citrus Grilled Chicken.

MAD Molly Brown Salad 

After a day of travel, I was refreshed and reinvigorated not only from the fresh food, but also from the pleasant atmosphere. You can also build your own salad by combining lettuce, protein and host of other ingredients: apples, black beans, jalapenos, sugar snap peas, toasted almonds, and so on. I was delighted to find a little bit of sanity amongst the mix of fast-food and stereotypical casual dining in the area. Can't wait to see a MAD Greens at my local mall.

Panzon-wow!
Panzano is an award-winning Northern Italian restaurant and lounge on the corner of 17th and Champa Streets. There's an open air kitchen and pizza area. The motto of the restaurant is Chi mangia bene, viva bene - those who eat well, live well. I was definitely living a good life eating at Panzano.

Dinner started with an olive and sun-dried tomato tapenade and selection of breads. My entree was Cappaletti pasta filled with sweet pea, ricotta, parmesan, walnuts, and speck finished wtih chicken broth and chives. My dining companion had the Cabonara a la Panzano: tagliatelle with house-cured pancetta, Granda Padano, and cracked black pepper topped with a fried egg. We split creme brulee for dessert. The service was outstanding, atmosphere engaging, and food wonderful. Had we not eaten at Rioja the night before, this would have been the highlight of the trip.

Rioja Mania
Looking for a restaurant to titillate my taste buds online, Rioja in Larimer Square was the standout recommendation. I dare you to read the menu aloud and not drool.

Larimer Square street scene

Though my dining companions and I had to wait for an hour for a table, it was worth it. Between the three of us we had:

• Goat Cheese Trio: Avalanche fresh chevre, goat gouda, Bleu de Bocage, red wine gelee, strawberry rhubarb jam, and almond granola crackers. 
• Roasted Candy Striped Beet Salad: cucumber mint vinaigrette, snow drop goat cheese, crispy beet chips, pickled red onion, micro beets, mint syrup.
• Rioja House Salad: baby arugula, Medjool dates, Gorgonzola, toasted almond vinaigrette.
• Artichoke Tortelloni: goat cheese and artichoke mousse stuffed pasta, artichoke broth, truffle essence, queso de mano cheese, chervil.
• Vegetarian Four Squares: a tasting of four seasonal dishes -
• Sweet Corn Fritter
• Spinach Goat Cheese Crepe
• Artichoke Hearts stuffed with Artichoke Mousse
• Zucchini-Radicchio Salad

The restaurant was dark, so getting a good picture without being obnoxious was a challenge. This is a blurry picture of the Artichoke Hearts stuffed with Artichoke Mouse. Just enough for a handful of bites and delectable taste!

Just typing the descriptions makes me hungry all over again - and makes me remember and savor the meal. Lively conversation, spectacular food...I've got the Rioja cookbook, too, and can't wait to dive in.
I would suspect that sister restaurants Bistro Vendome and Euclid Hall Bar and Kitchen offer similar experiences. And do not miss the lavender sourdough. If the roasted beet salad sounds intriguing to you, I'm pretty sure my next post will satisfy your curiosity.

Passionate Palate Pizzaz

The Passionate Palate is one of those cookbooks I've had for many years, yet have never cooked from. Here's the thing: it's not just a cookbook.

Now you probably say that about many of your cookbooks, but for this one, the statement is particularly true. Coming from Llewellyn Publications, home of so many unusual titles, The Passionate Palate: Recipes for Cooking Up A Delicious Life touches so many different areas of your potential delicious life that it's sprawling, and I wish it had been edited to be more consise.

That said, it's also intriguing and seductive. The opening line on the back cover says it all: "Wrap up in this warm, fluffy blanket of a book and start pampering yourself inside and out." There are more than 149 recipes and way too many alcoholic drinks. I perused the recipe index:

• Five Minute California Cheesecake
• White Russian Parfait Cake
• Sangria of the Gods
• Strawberry Daiquiri Pie
• Chocolate Chip Cookie Cake
• Cajun Popcorn
• Rose Sandwich
• Ham in Full Dress
• Mocha Hazelnut Scones
• Luxuriating Stew

The other thing that is captivating about The Passionate Palate is the advice on how to live the delicious life. Check this out:

• How to Tell If You're A Perfectionist.
• Single or Married - Take Yourself On A Date
• Happiness Is The Best Possible Therapy
• Honor The Why-The-Hell-Not Spirit of Summer!
• Eating Fruit Au Naturel
• Have A Serene, Happy, and Joyful Christmas!
• Ladies Don't Talk Like That
• Let God do what she's supposed to or...We Can't Always Control.

Get the idea? Passionate Palate is chock full of recipes and tips. It's more than an ample cup of cocoa to nurture your soul - and a bevy of recipes to go along with the nurturing.

Life and Memory Through Food

I hesitated to review Life, On The Line as there's so much that's already been said, and I didn't want to repeat what many already know. Grant Achatz has had a meteoric rise to the top of the culinary cream, and Alinea is one of the best restaurants in the world. The story of how passionately and single-mindedly Achatz pursued this goal, combined with the innumerable details of creating a dining experience (Alinea is not merely a "restaurant" in the traditional sense) provided by business partner Nick Kokonas, is fascinating.

And yet, it's been sous-vided, plated, garnished and served before. Certainly it's an inspiring story of dogged dedication and, though reading Achatz's account of cancer treatment is harrowing, it felt like something was missing. The story didn't leap off the page and make a new statement. In fact, it reminded me of a Behind The Music special from MTV: small town boy works hard, achieves success, struggles with throat cancer, and survives to cook again.

Regardless, one bite caught both my attention and imagination, and gave me a glimpse into the mind of a culinary master. Discussing the creation of a new menu item for the opening of Alinea that incorporated flavors of the sea, Achatz perfected each step of the dish, and then followed a leap of the imagination:

"...it occured to me that we should include the scent of spring flowers to enhance the dish and reference to spring. Quickly I settled on hyacinth as the flower that was needed. I had no idea why...I poured hot water over the flowers -- instant spring in the middle of winter." 

Co-workers didn't understand the significance of the smell of hyacinth's to Achatz, and he writes, 

“...as soon as I smelled the sweetness of the shellfish along with the musk and sweetness of the flowers I was transported back to my childhood. Until that moment I had no idea why I wanted to pair this fish with flowers. But once it was all together, I remembered a day when I was twelve years old, fishing for walleye with my dad in the late spring. We would tuck in along the shore and eat lunch among the wildflowers. Fish and flowers made sense to me not for any culinary reason, but for a sentimental one. Scent is powerfully tied to memory." (p. 233)

The role that memory played in the creation of the dish led me to reminisce about a book I'd read before starting the blog that focused on the power of memory and food. "How" we remember is a fascinating subject, and via extensive self-analysis, I've learned where I store things, what I hide, and what I display to the world. "Remembrance of Repasts: Anthropology of Food and Memory" by David E. Sutton caused me to contemplate how food can serve as a jumping off point to reveal long-hidden memories. Why, for example,  can an Alzheimer patient remember words to a poem or song, or a meal from long ago, and yet not remember where they live?

I'd never really thought about memory in terms of food until I read Sutton's book. The academic study documents how food plays a role in the construction of memory, and focuses on the Greek Island of Kalymnos where islanders remember meals from long ago. Exploring holidays, rituals, recipes, and more, the small book thoroughly examines the intersection of food and memory.

While reading, I tasted by memory meals from my past, recalled how I was taught to cook, and considered why I choose the foods I do. Likewise, as a genealogist, I'm equally fascinated with the past and memory – what kind of food did my ancestors eat? Why do thoughts of my grandma Wallace's chocolate fudge send shivers of excitement through my taste buds and tummy? When I fix a simple breakfast of eggs and toast, why does it remind me of mornings at Aunt Marg's house? Peanut butter on warm toast does the same thing.

Yes, I still want to eat at Alinea. But I also want to revel in the memory of dinner with family sitting around the table handmade by a great-grandfather, and celebrate summer with a festival of corn, zucchini, and tomatoes. These edible touchstones reflect our history in ways that we are only beginning to understand. By tapping into the memory of scent, Achatz has also opened the ever-flowing sap of the memory of experience.