Sharing Salads with Sadie

If you sat at the right end of the couch, you had to pet Sades. It was required. She nuzzled you until you did. Guests were forewarned of this when they sat there. Anyone who visited was nuzzled and loved by Sadie. And left full of fur.

As we walked along the lake, she actively sought out dead fish to roll around in and was pleased with her aroma. She was a locomotive blazing paths in deep snow, an avid rodent hunter and she loved her vegetables. I never chopped a vegetable without Sadie directly underneath me hoping for an "oops." There were quite a few "oops."

In her older age, she developed a love of artichokes. Both she and the cat came running when I sliced artichoke hearts. And I sliced artichoke hearts all winter. Which was 6 months long. Bear with me - the recipe's coming. It has made my year of "mindful eating" relatively easy. A good salad will do that.

Cats and dogs can be friends.

Sadie loved her tomatoes. In the last years when she was blind, she would sniff them out and have her fill of sun-ripened plum tomatoes. Not wanting her to have an excess of the stuff, I put the tomatoes in pots and moved them around the yard but she sniffed them out. Eventually, I would just have to beat her out the back door in the morning if I wanted tomatoes.

Eight and a half years ago, I went to Petco for guinea pig food and returned with Sadie. One of the best decisions of my life. She was my solution to my mid-life crisis. The kids were graduating from "something" every two years and I could see my child-rearing days were coming to a close. I told Sadie she was never going to graduate from anything.

She was a rescue dog. One look into her chocolate-brown eyes and I was smitten. I don't know if I chose her or she chose me. (My friend Brian did suggest that Sadie chose her human.) For 8-1/2 years she was our stress-buster and our smile.

Her nose was often dyed yellow from zucchini blossoms or red from the tomatoes. And scraped from chasing chipmunks up drain spouts. Sades had a technicolor snout during the summer.

I still find myself setting aside bits and pieces of salads for Sadie. This salad is so simple - I hardly call it a recipe. It's earthy - a bright smile all year - which is why both Sadie and I love it. And easy.

For 2-3 people + 1 salad eating dog:
1-2 packages of thawed artichoke hearts - sliced thin
3 celery ribs - sliced thin
1/2 fennel bulb - again sliced thin
Shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano - you determine the amount
Salt and pepper to taste
a fistful of chopped (fresh) Italian parsley

Dressing:
2 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon freshly-squeezed lemon (I do equal amounts)

Think of it as crunchy sunshine. Try it - and share it.

"To some, she's an animal. To me, she is an adopted daughter who is short, furry, walks on all fours and doesn't always speak clearly."


Sadie: 1998-May 2011
Forever in our hearts.

Spring cooking with a faery hand in hand

I generally put Italian on my table but when searching for the muse - and words, I go to Ireland. There we've hid our fairy vats Full of berries And of reddest stolen cherries. And of reddest stolen cherries. My beloved Yeats. Imagine my surprise when my "coming-of-age" moon play paralleled Yeats' The Stolen Child. Didn't see that coming. Or did I? `

• Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. `

Children - hanging on to innocence. Madrigal, my "faery" from the streets of Belfast.
I could not get the image of "faery vats of berries" and "reddest stolen cherries" out of my mind. And even though there are indeed signs of spring (my tulips are 1-1/2 inch up from the ground - yes, I measured), vats of berries and reddest stolen cherries are not readily available yet. In honor of the endless winter ending and spring slowly springing, I poached some pears - cherry red. Hailing from Valle d'Aosta - the Italians Alps that borders France and Switzerland, this is a sweetly- spiced dish that lulls you when there's just a wee bit of chill in the air. Valle d'Aosta is said to have a forbidding climate - perfect for warming, spicy concoctions. I suppose if you come from Sicily, you might find it chilly. As an almost-Minnesotan, I may find it warm.
Pears Poached in Spiced Red Wine* - serves 2

1. 2 pears, peeled, bottom sliced so the pear can stand on its own (I used bosc pears)
2. 3/4 cup dry red wine
3. 1/2 cup sugar 1 cinnamon stick
4. 3-4 cloves
5. additional water to cover
6. *Pomegranate juice and grape juice are good options if you don't cook with wine. Just sugar to-taste - you won't need 1/2 cup.
7. To finish: I served it with some lemon yogurt and strawberries. Also consider whipped cream or creme fraiche. ` Note: The pears should be ripe - they should not be hard as nails when you buy them. They also shouldn't be over-ripe as they may not hold their shape during cooking. (What a fuss-budget I've become)

Combine wine, water, cinnamon and cloves in a sauce pan. Stir to dissolve sugar. Add pears and cover with additional water. Bring to a boil and then simmer for 20-30 minutes until pears are softened, reddened but retain their shape. (You can also use all red wine to cover and skip the water - you decided how alcoholic you wish to be!)

In honor of the still-to-come green landscape, I turned to wonderful, peppery arugula. (Thank-you Cooking Light.) Combined with cooked barley, chickpeas, salt, pepper and equal parts of olive oil and lemon (just a little), this hearty salad also bids good-bye to the North Wind and welcomes the robin. Vary the amount according to your taste - but do dress lightly and it will stand the test of time (i.e. be ready for your lunch box the next day).

And the asparagus has returned and I buy a pound every day. From Proud Italian Cook - it's simple: roasted asparagus (asparagus trimmed and roasted in 375 degree oven for 20-25 minutes with a bit of olive oil, salt, pepper and grape tomatoes). Dressed (again lightly) with equal parts lemon and olive oil, tossed with tangy feta cheese - half of it was missing before I brought it to the table.

`

Lest you think my life is a party of pretty words and endless eating, do know that I spent an agonizing day wondering if one of my young characters should have a Dick Tracy spy decoder ring or a Man from U.N.C.L.E. decoder ring or a James Bond one. What will the kids relate to? And so I return to the age of acquarius and faeries... and "spy" toys that come in cereal boxes. While "In the Year 2525" plays in the background. Does Randy say, "Groovy" or "far out?" And if you need some enchantment in your days - look no further... there's magic in these words.

Springy salad with pancetta and peas and yes, orange juice

My mother dressed her salads with oil and vinegar - some herbs, salt, pepper and garlic. Nothing too fancy-schmancy. I was addicted. I scarfed up every lettuce leaf and drank any of the leftover oil and vinegar from the large wooden bowl during clean-up.`
`
I was 17 when I received knowledge of bottled salad dressings courtesy of my college cafeteria. I am and remain a late bloomer. I was amazed that there were other dressings called "Russian," "French," Ranch," and Blue cheese." To this day, my blue cheese dressing consists of pieces of blue cheese pieces in salad and then mixed with - oil and vinegar!


She didn't whisk the oil and vinegar together - she dressed it directly on to the salad, tossing until it pleased her. It always pleased me. I still think only Italians can properly dress salads although I will give a nod to the French who have whisked some mighty fine vinaigrettes in their time.
`
This salad adapted from Tastes of Italia, contains no vinegar much to my early chagrin. The acid is orange juice and it brightens and elevates the spring leaves. Which shakes me out of my certainty about the world. The world's salads seem to work best with vinegar. But here it is all sunshine and light with orange juice. I am evolving. Spring wafted from the salad bowl and calmed winter nerves. We were inebriated with the taste of spring.

Spring Salad with Peas and Pancetta
Dressing:
1/2 cup pancetta, chopped
1/4 cup olive oil (can use less)
3 tablespoons of fresh orange juice (I used twice that amount)
1 garlic clove, minced (or I think - a shallot would be good here)
1/3 cup chopped pecans (I used chopped hazelnuts and I used a lot more)
`
Salad:
8 cups spring baby greens (I added arugula and spinach)
1/4 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley
1 cup frozen peas, thawed (or fresh peas if you can find it - lightly cooked)
1/2 cup Grana Padano, chopped or cumbled (I used freshly-shredded Parmigiano-Reggiano)
Kosher salt and pepper to taste

1. In a small-medium skillet combine olive oil and chopped pancetta - cook for about five minutes (until pancetta is crisp).
2. Add orange juice, garlic and nuts.
3. Cook for two minutes (I cooked for 30 seconds).
4. Remove from heat to cool.
5. When dressing is cool, combine salad ingredients and toss with the dressing. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve.

`And while spring was being served, the moon took over the landscape. A fitting end to a week where I have become immersed in my new play Under a Midsummer Moon.
I am considering ending the play with my cynical teens chiming in slowly and quietly with:
"I see the moon and the moon sees me.
God Bless the moon and God bless me."
It's a slightly wicked thing to do to my teen actors. But it would be highly effective. And unexpected. Like orange juice for vinegar.

To eat (sweets) Or not to eat (sweets)?

After praising my new found ability to credibly bake (NOTE: not smashingly bake or beautifully bake) - but just "simply" bake, I have noted that my chubbiness has been expanding. I had resolved to not bake or eat sweets for the month of May. Oh, I know I had a cannoli ... or two ... or three... yesterday. But they were mini-cannolis, so they don't count. Besides, I walked off the calories stomping around the house.
`
And then I went out and bought, radicchio, zucchini, "live" lettuce (yes, I know - as opposed the dead kind), tomatoes, olives, feta cheese, red peppers. And came home resolved to not look at a baked good.

I went soaring through blogosphere instead. And what did I find?
Cheesecake extraordinaire from Cream Puffs in Venice
Linzer Torte bars from My Tasty Treasures
Strawberry Shortcake from Elyse's Confectionery Creations
and from one whose kitchen strives to be healthy -
Chocolate almond macaroons from Sara's Kitchen
`
And that's just the tip of the ice-blog-berg. Really! What's a chubby blogger to do? Devise an Italian salad. (NOTE: All my solutions to problems involve food.)

I dutifully took out my "live" lettuce, sliced 1/2 zucchini, chopped up a red pepper (okay I gave some to Sadie - my chubby blind dog - she loves her vegetables), threw on some olives, tomatoes and feta. Scattered some Italian parsley and radishes. Mixed 2/3 olive oil with 1/3 lemon, some chopped shallots and oregano and voila!




Okay. It's not a cannoli or a cheesecake. But it makes me feel virtuous. That I have a semblance of self-control. That I am master of the hand-to-mouth activity. It will do. Yes, it will do.

And now I will go back to savoring blogs. And bookmarking. For June. Or July ... or August.