A cheddar-goat-chese-quiche washed down with buttermilk raspberry cake

"It's not as bad as it looks? It's not as bad as pepperoni? Pepperoni's beef trim. It's pork trim. It's worse than meat! It wishes it were meat!"

And so goes the delightful food-centric play Food for Thought by playwright Rich Rubin that I had the honor of directing for the Lakeshore Players Ten-Minute Play Festival. The producer somehow thought I would be a good match for a play about a vegetarian-all organic woman and the boyfriend who "cheats" on her with pepperoni pizza and Twinkies. ("It was just a one-time thing. It didn't mean anything. I didn't even enjoy it all that much.") Food and theatre combined this month to do damage to my waistline. (And the truth is, I revelled in it all - the waistline blip, the play festival and the time spent with the play and my actors.) 

Whether I'm directing shenanigans with Hansel and Gretel and the Gingerbread House or figuring out how to create a 20 scoop ice cream cone for the grade school play or doling out Mars Bars and Milky Ways for the teen play about the moon landing, I have found my theatre life awash with food and my food life filled with temptations. And a few times when I came home late enough that I was morphing into a pumpkin, I had this "cheddar goat cheese with ramps" quiche waiting. Flirting. Beckoning. And I succumbed.  As did everyone in the family.

Inspired by Floriole's Cafe in Chicago, I didn't bother with the crust - I was just mad for the filling. But if you're a "crusty" person - have it your way! Husband-person who long ago decided he was a "real man who didn't eat quiche," gave in to the charms of the cheddar goat cheese and mellow spring ramps. I trust that you will, too.

Cheddar Goat Cheese Quiche with Spring Ramps
Ingredients

• 1 cup grated or shredded cheddar goat cheese
• 3/4 cup spring ramps - chopped into 1/4" pieces
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1-3/4 cups of half and half, or a mixtrure of cream and milk or just milk
• 4 eggs
• salt and white pepper to taste

  

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Spray a 9-inch pie or quiche pan. Sautee ramps in butter until softened (about 4 minutes.) Drain ramps on a paper towel. Whisk eggs and cream until combined. Gently stir in  cheese and ramps. Salt and pepper to taste. Pout into prepared pan. Bake 35-40 minutes (until center puffs up). Cool 5-10 minutes. Carefully slide crustless quiche onto plate. Serve warm or at room temperature. It's summer - bask in the ease.

Of Muses and Meringues had a buttermilk-raspberry cake that was so light, so tender, so fluffy, I was sure it had no calories. I was wrong but let me say, it was worth it! Since toddler-hood I have been a raspberry worshiper, appreciater and lover. When husband and son were off doing the MS150 (so proud!), I was digging holes in the ground for raspberry bushes because we finally have a new sunny patch in our yard. And I will make a beeline for those berries when they come in - warding off the birds - just as I did when I was two.

Find the recipe here.It has everything you want in a summer recipe: ease, freshness, a lightness of being and the sweet without the cloying. And the bonus - you'll love Beth's blog. It's a promise.

Summer is both fertile ground for new creations and recipes that spotlight an ingredient with little fuss. Fuss in the winter.

Savor in the summer.



Copper River Salmon a la Giuliano Hazan

There are things worth walking miles for through heat and gnats and the cotton that floats through the air in June from the massive cottonwood trees: Minnesota's small, impossibly-red and summer-sweet strawberries come to mind. Or a double-cream ice cream that Wisconsin produces which really tastes childhood-memory-best when the day is 90 degrees. And then there's Copper River salmon. 

It has a lacy-delicate flavor for salmon. If the salmon was enchanted, it would be a water sprite - of the water, the air, the earth and the sky. And if these determined gilled-beings can make their way 300 miles up the Copper River - uphill to the tune of about 1,000 feet - I can walk a few measly miles in the heat and pick them up on my journey home. My local grocer has the fish flown in fresh 5-6 days a week and when I buy the Copper River Salmon - I cook them the same day.

I've tried Molly Wizenberg's Copper River salmon with creme fraiche and grilled them in foil with some white wine and herbs and a splash of lemon. And the salmon remained the star and we ate those dishes like hearty Alaskans. But this time I used Giuliano Hazan's simple recipe of dressing the salmon with Italian parsley, thyme. lemon juice, olive oil and breadcrumbs. Let's face it, the man has a pretty good pedigree when it comes to Italian cooking. And it's easy. And if you know anything about me - I am all about ease. The combination of thyme and parsley works - even though thyme is shy and parsley - is not. And there's just enough crunch from the Panko to show off the strengths of this salmon.   

Ingredients:

2 pounds Copper River Salmon fillets

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

a pinch of salt

8 sprigs of Italian parsley (I used more)

4 sprigs of thyme (I used more; yes, I'm an herb-nerd)

5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

salt and pepper

2-3 tablespoons fresh breadcrumbs (I used 4-5 tablespoons of Panko)

Preparation:

1. Prepare grill. 
2. Put lemon juice and salt in a small bowl and stir until the salt dissolves. 
3. Chop the herbs and have at least 2 tablespoons of the parsley and 2 teaspoons of the thyme. (Yes, I used more.) 
4. Add the herbs to the small bowl and then whisk in 4 tablespoons of the olive oil until emulsified. 
5. Season the salmon with a little salt and pepper (if the fillets are skinny really skimp on the salt or don't use it). 
6. Coat the fish with the breadcrumbs or Panko. 
7. Drizzle remaining tablespoon over the salmon and place on the grill (skin side down). 
8. Grill for about 5-6 minutes per inch of salmon - turning the salmon halfway through the brief cooking time. (We have a fish basket that makes this a cinch.)
9. Transfer to serving platter, pour herb sauce over it and serve. 
10. And savor. 

The dining room was silent. And my family (arguably one of the more conversational families on earth) remained quiet as the sounds of fork to plate and swallowing filled the room. I always hope a recipe I post entices you. And once in a while, I will be very pushy and bossy with advice to try this. And so the director in me emerges and if you like salmon, make this, grill this, serve this, eat this... now. Because after June, the Copper River salmon goes away. It's a brass ring - grab it. Life doesn't had out brass rings regularly.

A special shout-out and thanks to Chris's Gourmet Fashion for thinking of me and awarding me this. Chris dishes up gourmet with no fuss and delicious results. Pay her a visit (while you're prepping the salmon). I don't "choose" bloggers as I have to "choose actors" in my daily life and so I break tradition and offer this to my followers. Now stop reading, you have a salmon dinner to prepare!

A Blueberry Muffin Detour

I am not a super-highway sort of person. I take detours. All projects get finished but in a zig-zag way - never in a straight line.

And so it happened that I was prepping the blog for a post on recreating some lovelies from Floriole in Chicago's charming Lincoln Park neighborhood....

A neighborhood thats speaks of a kind, gentle time...

A neighborhood which contains a Cafe/Bakery that is a destination of flavor and taste. Where you throw away all reserve about your waistline and indulge.

That was my intention. The frittata sandwich with cream cheese and smoked trout on a bed of arugula was our first course. But you can figure out the recipe from the description. And do try it - the bursts of the cream cheese with the salty-smokey trout all gift wrapped in eggs and topped with peppery arugula made me want another. 

Even though the asparagus plumply sitting on toast which was generously spread with fresh ricotta was waiting. 

I'm cooking some asparagus now. You can see where that is leading.

While waiting for lunch, we gave in to the charms of perfectly browned canneles nurturing a pillowy custard inside. I don't have a huge sweet tooth but if I did not throw caution to the wind and succumb to the power of sugar once in a while, my sardonic side would be much too powerful.  

When I give in to the enchantment of sugar, I give it my all. I should have brought home a trunk filled with the crisp lime, cornmeal cookies. And a roomful of the peanut butter and jelly ones. I think I've kept my cynical part of my personality in check for awhile. I will need to figure these out. Not being a peanut butter and jelly eater, I was significantly wowed enough to let these cookies melt into my being and was prepared to walk another 12 miles with blistered feet to undo a touch of the damage.

My intention was to recreate those dishes. But then there was this detour. That Skinny Chick Can Bake posted a blueberry-sour cream muffin recipe. So, here I am - a person who doesn't usually bake, hardly ever makes a muffin - a person with an Italian blog and I am finding myself at the computer in a hypnotic trance - nodding and bowing to the monitor and saying, "Yes, I will make these, O Powerful One." And I did. With creme fraiche instead of sour cream. With the last of the frozen berries from last summer.  With my newly-developed sweet tooth courtesy of Chicago.

That Skinny Chick Can Bake's recipe is here. My adjustments are below.

Blueberry Creme Fraiche Muffins - makes 18 muffins

• 2 cups flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 egg
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 4 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled
• 1-1/4 cup creme fraiche
• 2 cups blueberries

I wasn't shy with the blueberries. Despite ingredients to the contrary, I like to think of this as a fruit serving.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. For ease, use muffin liners. In a large bowl whisk flour, baking powder and salt. In a medium bowl whisk your egg. Add sugar and whisk well. Add melted butter - and yes - whisk some more. Add creme fraiche and whisk. And berries to the dry mixture and toss. Gently fold the creme fraiche goodness into the dry. Spoon batter into prepared muffin tins. Bake for 25-30 minutes (until toothpick inserted in arbitrary muffin comes out clean). Cool on wire rack. With 7 over for dinner, these last 12 minutes. (I only ate 2.)

Working in a linear fashion has its advantages. You do get things done faster. But when you detour and zig- zag, you find things. Like Mama Duck and her babes leaving your yard to make the perilous one block journey to the pond and eventually the lake.

Or that azaleas must love cold and rain. Because they never have been so magical.

Finding Spring in Chicago

"Bet your bottom dollar that you'll lose the blues in Chicago...."

And so I did. All winter blues ceased. I found spring. And when I left, Michigan Avenue was still awash in gaggles of tulips that would make Holland smile... the temps were in the 70's and 80's...I wore short sleeves... capris...sandals...

And I came home to lilac week.

And phlox and tulips.

And 50 degrees.
Matthew decked out the home with vases filled with lilacs as a welcome home.

Our first day was warm and gray.

Until we found Team Lizard down at the Navy Pier. If there is no sun, create your own!

Millenium Park was all angles and spirals and silver. We walked 12 miles the first day.

I love the green spaces in urban areas. The NYC child in me will always be a city girl - with a longing for green.

And the skies cleared and the next day we walked another 6-8 miles. The juxtaposition of the parks and the skyscrapers heartened. Chicago celebrates the accomplishments of mankind with its bustling downtown loop but gives way to the spirit and the beauty of the earth by melding green space and cityscapes. Lake and river. Scope and height. And when the sun warmed us, Paul and I decided to not go inside a building unless it rained.

It didn't. And so we gleefully played outside just as we did 25 years ago as newlyweds on Maui. And walked. And walked. (Until I discovered 8 blisters on my toes. Not to be dissuaded, we found band aids and walked some more.)

And when I came home to chill and clouds, I "cooked" spring. After reading Bon Appetit on the plane, I craved color. And so it came to pass that I made something similar to the recipe I had read - Halibut with mango salsa. Red, green, white and orange sitting on a plate as prettily as my phlox and lilacs. As beguiling as the tulips I left behind.

Halibut with Mango Salsa - serves 4

(Use any whitefish that strikes your fancy)

1-1/2 - 2 pounds halibut

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil - divided

juice and zest of 1 lime

1 mango peeled and seeded

1 avocado, diced into small chunks

1 pint cherry tomatoes - halved or quartered

a handful of slivered basil

salt and pepper to taste

Whisk 1 tablespoon of olive oil with 1 tablespoon of fresh lime juice. Brush liberally on the halibut and salt and pepper it to taste. Let sit ten minutes. Grill or bake halibut until desired doneness. I hesitate to give times - my halibut was thick requiring 12 minutes on one side and 12 minutes on the other - and yes, it rained so it was baked in a 350 degree F oven.

In a medium bowl, combine diced avocado*, diced mango**, cherry tomatoes, basil, the rest of the olive oil and lime juice and zest. Salt and pepper to taste. Let sit at room temperature or cover and chill for the day.

When halibut is done, spoon over the fish and serve. Find spring during the dinner hour!

*I tried Bon Appetit's suggestion of immersing the cut avocado in ice cold water to prevent browning. Lo and behold! It worked!

**I chased the slippery sucker of a mango all around the kitchen as it tried to escape after being peeled. I have since learned to cut the cheeks of the mango. Dice without cutting into the skin and then cut the peel off.

We did go inside for meals and yes, of course I ate my way through Chicago. There was no way I was going to tell Chicago, "Oh! I'm "mindfully eating" - can I have a wedge of iceberg lettuce?" Part of the wonder of enjoying the city was because of the advice from fellow bloggers. I'm grateful for the advice of Marie from Proud Italian Cook and Pat from Mille Fiori Favoriti who steered me in the right eating direction. The blogging community truly opens up new avenues of discovery. As I try to recreate some of the Chicago meals at Quartino, Floriole and Gioco's in the coming weeks I shall give you a sampling and a few recipes of the wonder that is dining "Chicago style." (And sorry, it doesn't include hot dogs and pizza - although they were pretty tasty!). Chicago is a buffet. And we gleefully stepped up to the plate.

Two Weeks of Toast

It was a simple weekend morning that belied the busyness of the weekdays. Husband-person is settled in an armchair with paper. I'm wrapped in a cozy, with coffee on the left, purring cat in lap and balancing May's Bon Appetit (devoted to Italy). And then it happened. I was hypnotized.

Eggs on toast. How basic is that? True it has smoked salmon, mashed avocado with lime, fresh chives and did I mention that you stir in a dollop of creme fraiche? In a trance, I picked up my car keys and left telling husband-person, "Don't eat anything. I will return."

And I did. With sourdough bread and an avocado to finish the ingredient list. Is it a recipe? Not really - it's just what the Italians savor - fresh ingredients. Separately they delight. Together they bewitch.

Ingredients - for 2

sourdough bread, sliced, toasted in the oven

4 eggs (or 2 eggs and 6 egg whites) whisked with a healthy dollop of creme fraiche (or butter or sour cream)

lime

1/2 avocado - mashed with lime juice - to taste

2 slices of smoked salmon (or lox)

fresh chives - about 6

Prep

Snip your chives, toast your bread, soft-scramble your eggs - add in 1/2 your chives towards the end of the scrambling process and scatter the rest on the dish when done. Smear mashed avocado on toast. Top with scrambled eggs, put a slice of smoked salmon on top, scatter remaining chives and find bliss.

Janet McCracken, Deputy Food Editor of Bon Appetit also suggests roasted red peppers with goat cheese or Prosciutto with caramelized onions. With eggs on toast. I second the suggestions.

During the last two weeks, I found myself directing a touring production of two casts of Hansel and Gretel as well as a lovely food-centric play Food For Thought, editing Under a Midsummer Moon (the play I deleted is a phoenix) and researching my new play Searching for Uncle Otto. It's tricky - moving from the Gingerbread House to July 1969's Central Park in New York City with side trips to 1930's Russia. It is no wonder I turn to toast for sustenance. I am toast. Sometimes sweetly-spiced, often nutty, alternately brittle and pliable.

As I walked through life as a piece of toast, I felt myself smitten by Smitten Kitchen's Leek toasts with blue cheese. Who tweaked it from Molly Wizenberg's leek confit. It must be Murphy's Law that when you are "toast," you are attracted to toast.

My version uses goat cheese. And it's simply your favorite bread - lightly toasted. Smeared with goat cheese and topped with caramelized or sauteed leeks. Find the recipe here. Toast can be mesmerizing.

The first performance of Hansel and Gretel was at a center for families with challenges. The play's interactive and the audience (whew) laughed where we hoped they would and participated with respect and gusto. When the father in the play announced, "We will never be hungry again!" they clapped. A poignant moment for the cast and crew.

I may be toast. But I have the means to eat. I watch the tulips close at dusk.

And the ducks sleep in our grasses.

And give gratitude for my two weeks of toast. I am off to Chicago for some R&R - which may be an anomaly or just what the doctor ordered. The computer remains at home. Have a grand week. As I toast my 25th anniversary, you can toast some bread.