Kate F____, Girl Reporter

My dad was returning from a 10-day camping/fishing trip with a conference in the middle, and we didn’t know what time he’d get home. Mom and I made a fun grilled meal that would hold up or reheat well once he did arrive. (He didn’t know I was coming home! It was really fun to open the door for him.)

At the farmer’s market, Mom had picked up multicolored Italian peppers, like bell peppers but long and pointy and sweeter.

We cut them into strips, cut up a bunch of onions, and embarked on a grilling adventure. Neither of us usually does the grilling, and in fact my dad is a total master of the chimney starter, coal management, etc. We had a little bit of trouble getting the coals going but eventually figured it out.

Mom also roasted a pan of chioggia beets so I could see how easy it is to do. It really is simple. She made a marinade of (I think) orange juice, thyme, oil, salt and pepper (Mom, what else was in there?), roasted the beets until tender (at what temp!?), let them cool enough that she could put on latex gloves and peel them, then sliced them and dressed them with vinaigrette. (Clearly I didn’t pay as close of attention to the technique as I should have…) We ate them for the rest of the week, with everything. And chioggias are SO pretty with their pale pink circles…

It was very summery, especially after we added a handful of the Sungolds from the garden, dressed in a light vinaigrette with some basil.

Mmmm.

By the way, in case you weren’t already jealous of how my parents eat ALL THE TIME, check out what greeted me when I came downstairs to eat some lunch. My mom had said she’d toast some bread for me.

Panini! With perfect hatch marks and fresh tomatoes! (Um, there were a lot of ripe tomatoes. We ate them at almost every meal. And they’re like candy, so you never get sick of them.) Double-Mmm.

Next up: A pseudo-Tapas meal, with grilled artichokes (for Germi!)

BTW, I don’t screen out comments (except spam)–if you’ve commented and it never showed up on the site, please let me know through my e-mail address (listed right there on the left!). WordPress appears to be having a comment-eating problem. Thanks!

So I spent almost a week visiting my parents in Oregon… First of all, people who haven’t been there tend to think of the entire Pacific Northwest as a rainy, foggy bog. I’m from Eugene, which is smack in the middle of the Willamette Valley (pinot noir country), and we are actually protected from Seattle-style weather by the coast range. The winter is wet, sure, but I think it’s the same number of grey days as we get out here on the East Coast, but without the sleet and ice. And in the summer…Oh, the summer. Normal summers are almost completely dry, June through October hot and sunny with no humidity. Usually it’s in the 80s during the day (at the height of summer, though there are heat waves) and then drops to the 50s at night. Without humidity there aren’t bugs unless you’re near a river or swamp. At my parents’ house, that means we can eat on the veranda and not swat a single mosquito away.

Here is a view of the Valley as I flew into Eugene:

I took a series of photos of the Cascade foothills (the Coburg Hills) dropping abruptly into the valley, posted at Flickr.

I had gotten up at 4:15 for a 6:50 flight, then ended up bumped to an 8 something flight, then my flight from Denver was delayed because the computer on the plane couldn’t tell that the door was closed. So I got in about 4 hours late, and was quite low-energy. My mom had rented Mostly Martha, the wonderful german film that was remade as No Reservations, and we made nice big salads with tuna for dinner to eat while watching it.

Trimmings:

Kalamata olives, Sungold cherry tomatoes from the garden, red onion, red pepper, basil from the garden, feta.

All mixed together, with the tuna (the wonderful spanish kind from an oval red and yellow tin, packed in olive oil):

Bad photo of my salad (left) and my mom’s (right)–she doesn’t snack between meals!

BTW, I haven’t seen No Reservations, but Mostly Martha was really, really good. Very quiet and low-key, but all excellent actors and a really beautiful food movie.

While we were in NYC I spent two lovely weeks working at a magazine downtown. It was a great return to my old life, and I had a fantastic time with the staff there. The second week, my editor came in on Monday or Tuesday looking very pleased with himself, and revealed that he had acquired a limited edition Reese’s Peanut Butter and Banana Creme Cup, released in honor of the 30th anniversary of Elvis’s death. He’d decided to wait until Thursday, the actual anniversary, to hold a ceremonial tasting.

Which we did.

(Note: I loathe banana flavored things, and pretty much hate real bananas.)

We very cautiously cut one of the cups into quadrants. (David had tried to get more so everyone could “enjoy” their own cup, but the bodega ran out. Limited edition, see.) The “banana cream” (shudder) was clearly visible and very solid. At least there wasn’t an ooze factor.

It smelled strongly of banana, fairly realistically, but the flavor wasn’t as pungent. I choked it down very bravely, and even managed to wait about a minute before grabbing for the seltzer I had prudently set nearby. Maybe a non-banana-hater could weigh in more fairly, but this got a solid “Not as horrific as I expected, which isn’t saying much,” from me.

Luckily we had taken a field trip to ‘Wichcraft for lunch (oh my god, so good), and I had saved a diminutive creamwich (chocolate & chocolate; the best were the peanut butter ones) for just this situation. Mmmm. Much better.

Oh, and by the way: We didn’t win an Elvis Tribute Car, whatever that means.

I have to upload tons of photos and write up tons of dinners, but here’s a teaser to hold you until I’m back in Boston tomorrow. (Red-eye tonight, and I have a middle seat. PLEASE DEAR GOD let me get another seat on this supposedly-packed flight.

Anyway.

One of the many things we ate last night:

Yes, that is a fig wrapped in prosciutto and grilled. Yep. Is that food porn or what??

For my birthday, we had a delicious dinner at Alma in Brooklyn, with fantastic mexican food and margaritas and the best view of the city. I had little tamales that were *excellent* and now I’m inspired to try to make some at home.

The day after my birthday we had drinks with a bunch of friends, organized by the lovely Bridget. And the *next* night there was a games night at her house, and Brooke brought the most amazing cake (for both me and Ben, technically)! Last year she and Bridget made homemade Hostess cupcakes (I love Hostess cupcakes; they are a major guilty pleasure, though I can’t remember the last time I ate any):

Which I heartily enjoyed (I think I’m making the exact same face as in the photo on the “About Kate” page, from when I was about 3):

This year Brooke swept into Bridget’s house bearing a HUGE home made Hostess cake! Amazing, check it out (with Brooke’s hand for scale):

And then she festooned it with the prettiest candles. One more shot for good measure!

I am a lucky girl!

Weird. I typed an entry, already titled the same, hit Publish, and it vanished. Several minutes before I tried to comment on a friend’s blog, hit publish, my comment vanished, I tried again, same thing. Either I should shut up because the universe wants me quiet, or there will be lots of duplicate posts appearing sometime soon. [Actually, I'm now trying to post this the next morning, because I couldn't for the life of me get anything post last night.]

ANYWAY, I have lots of things I want to post–my birthday cake, baked by Brookie, for one. But I can’t get the 1-bar wireless in the corporate apartment to let me upload photos. Soon.

Also, STAY TUNED. I am taking an impromptu trip to a secret location, to be disclosed soon. There will be much, much making and consuming of delicious food, and the digital macro on my new camera will be put to the test!!
Aren’t you excited?

Sorry for the dearth of posts lately–I have barely been cooking and have been working full-time while we’re in NYC.

Ben requested spaghetti and meatballs for his birthday, which he shares with Harry Potter and my late grandmother at the end of July. (Mine is the 1st of August, so we always end up with more of a joint celebration!) I have never made meatballs but was game to try, despite the limitations of the Shiny-but-Squeezed kitchen in our corporate apartment:

Actually it’s not that bad, though I’m not used to the flat-top electric stove (the pots slide when you stir! agh!) and the ventilation is terrible. It has about three feet of counter, which is three feet more than we have in Cambridge. The big downer is the glass cutting board, which makes horrible “I am killing your knife” sounds with every chop, and which sports a pebbly surface that makes it nearly impossible to chop things like parsley without just denting the leaves instead of cutting through them.

Anyway.

Mom sent me the Cook’s Illustrated recipe, which calls for white bread soaked in buttermilk. Mmmm, squishy.

I used a 1/3 pork, 2/3 beef mixture, with the bread, garlic, parmesan, parsley, salt and pepper. (Maybe I’m forgetting something?) I had heard so many dire warnings of meatballs that masquerade as musket balls that I was terrified of over-handling the mixture, and instead under-handled it.

I shaped the meatballs with such a gentle hand that when I put the first batch in the oil to fry and then tried to turn them, they gave way and crumbled. I actually preferred them this way, since I like meat sauce better than meatballs, but still: This was not a proper meatball.

(Excuse the dark and horrible photos. I got a new camera for my birthday and the amazing digital macro is about to revolutionize the photos here. Meanwhile I’m still using up photos from my old camera.)

I re-packed the next batch, making sure they were much tighter. I browned them very dark because I like a crispy outside:

Those held together much better, though they were still very delicate and tender.

The sauce in the CI recipe is really simple—a can of crushed tomato, basil, garlic, a little oil. It came together in about 20 minutes including cooking. I reheated the meatballs in the sauce while the pasta cooked, and ta-da! all done!

For dessert I skipped cake because Ben is more of an ice cream guy. I bought some dark chocolate cookies and coffee Häagen-Dazs, and made a big ice cream sandwich!

Happy birthday, honey!

Here’s a quick recipe that we used to make at home all the time. Our very dear family friend Barb taught my mom to make instant pickles with rice vinegar. All you do is peel and slice your cucumber, pour rice vinegar over it, add a liberal amount of black pepper, and let them sit for 30 minutes or so.

A note: They turned out really strong this time. Next time I might cut the vinegar with a little water if I want to eat them plain. But on sandwiches/burgers they tasted great! I really love pickles and am thinking of experimenting with real dill pickles. But maybe I’m better off just buying a jar of Claussens and calling it a day?