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Soupy Sunday: The blessing and curse of the email recipe chain letter

Sunday, June 27th, 2010

I don’t usually forward chain-letter emails, but I do enjoy being involved in the recipe ones. Just like with potlucks and Junior League cookbooks, I think people tend to contribute their showstopping home run recipes to group efforts. Unfortunately, only one or two of the people to whom I forward the recipe chain letter actually forward it to friends of their own, so the chain unceremoniously dies with me, always.

My dream = an inbox laden like a Thanksgiving cornucopia with 36 “best” recipes from all over the globe

My reality = two measly recipes, one of which is for something I cannot stand to eat

But I remain ever hopeful.

Can you smell this tantalizing aroma already??

This recipe was my entire haul from a recent such exchange, and when I first glanced at it I thought, crap, I hate split pea soup. It’s my mother’s favorite, but evidently I did not inherit that gene. A few weeks later, though, I ate at Polka Restaurant where they start you off with a soup of the day, and I loved that soup and thought it must be a lot like that recipe I got via email. So I dug up the email and gave the recipe a shot, and I’m glad I did. Thanks, Bryn! I should have trusted you.  Yellow split peas are much tastier than those horrid green ones.

Do not skimp on the curry powder. I know that three tablespoons of curry powder sounds like waaaay too much, but it isn’t. It’s perfect. And since you’re using a lot of it, you might as well use good stuff (I use Penzeys Maharajah blend).

This recipe makes a lot of soup, so use the biggest pot you’ve got (or cut the recipe in half, obvs). I have to start it in one pot but split it into two pots at the “add water” step until everything cooks down substantially, at which point I combine the two.

The potato is my addition to Bryn’s recipe, because the Polka version had some. It makes a hearty soup even heartier but could be easily omitted.

Also, I found that 14 cups of water wasn’t nearly enough. But instead of adding more and more water and ending up with more and more soup, I employ one of my favorite soup tricks, which is to keep it intentionally thick and sock most of it away in the freezer for later. In a very concentrated form it takes up less freezer space. I let the too-thick soup cool, then portion it into freezer bags and lay them flat in the freezer until they freeze solid. Then on a  day when you come home from work too tired to cook, simply toss the contents of a bag into a saucepan, add more water or a can of broth (or a can of tomatoes, or what have you) until it’s the consistency you like, and heat it through. Fresh homemade soup without the hassle!

Finally, please note that I am not publishing a photo of this soup. That’s because it really is not photogenic. At all. However, its mouthwatering aroma and bewitching flavor more than compensate for that. Have I ever lied to you? About soup?

 

Bryn’s Curried Yellow Split Pea Soup

1 bag of yellow split peas, rinsed and sorted
1 Tablespoon vegetable oil
1 onion, diced
2 carrots, diced
2 celery ribs, sliced
2 teaspoons fresh ginger, grated
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ teaspoon hot red pepper flakes
1 Tablespoon Better Than Bouillon chicken or vegetable soup base
3 Tablespoons good quality curry powder
Salt & pepper to taste
1 small potato, peeled and diced (optional)
14 cups of water

Heat the oil in a very big pot and saute the onion, carrots and celery until they are translucent. Add the fresh ginger, garlic and red pepper flakes; saute for just a minute or two more.

Add the bouillon paste and curry powder, and stir well to coat the veggies. The fragrance at this point is amazing!

Add the split peas to the pot along with the diced potato (if using) and all of the water, give it a good stir and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for around 45 minutes, uncovered. The peas lose most of their definition so you won’t need to puree it or anything. Add more water if the soup becomes too thick.

Season with salt and pepper, and serve.

 

 

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Soupy Sunday: Celebrating asparagus

Sunday, June 20th, 2010

Sunny Anderson's cream of asparagus soup

I like soup.

I like making soup. I like eating soup. I like pretty much everything about nearly all kinds of soup.

And since there’s nothing a blogger appreciates more than a regular feature that provides a modicum of structure to her otherwise unfocused blatherings, I will be blogging about soup. Let’s say, every Sunday. And see how it goes.

First up is cream of asparagus soup. Fresh asparagus is so good and so inexpensive right now, I’ve been roasting it, grilling it, stir-frying it, prosciutto-ing it and even eating the most slender stalks raw in a delicious marinated salad. I did not even know you could eat raw asparagus. Thank you, Anne Burrell!

For my soup, I used Sunny Anderson’s recipe with one minor alteration: I added plain Greek yogurt instead of sour cream. The recipe was dead simple and turned out to be quite rich and tasty.

When it was time to take the photo, I wished I’d reserved some of the asparagus tips and blanched them to use as a garnish, maybe perched atop a dollop of yogurt. If you are a fancypants cook you might give that a whirl. Instead, I tossed a few garlicky croutons into the bowl for visual interest and called it lunch.

I use a stick blender to puree my soups but if all you have is a regular blender, be sure to vent the lid when you zap your potion. Otherwise, you may end up with hot soup all over your kitchen.

 

Sunny Anderson’s Cream of Asparagus Soup

Source: Food Network

  • 1/2 stick unsalted butter
  • 1/2 onion, chopped, (about 1/2 cup)
  • 1 clove garlic, crushed
  • Salt and freshly ground black pepper
  • 2 pounds asparagus, ends trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 6 cups chicken stock
  • 1 pint sour cream, room temperature
  • 2 teaspoons Hungarian hot paprika, for garnish

Melt butter in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add onion and garlic, and saute 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add asparagus and saute another 4 minutes. Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Reduce to simmer and cook for 30 minutes, until asparagus is very tender. Carefully puree until smooth. Stir in sour cream and season with salt and pepper, to taste. Transfer to serving bowls. Dust with paprika and serve.

 

 

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A contest announcement from weheartmacandcheese.com!

Friday, June 18th, 2010

Over on my other blog, Hilary Havarti and I are celebrating our one-year blogaversary and we’re holding a little contest featuring two extremely charming macaroni-and-cheese-related prizes (inedible ones, unfortunately).

Happy blogaversary to www.weheartmacandcheese.com!

To enter, just leave a macaroni-and-cheese-related comment on that blog post (not this one). Tell us what you love about our favorite dish… Share a link to your favorite recipe for it… Divulge the name of the restaurant that serves up the best mac… Wax rhapsodic about the mac your mom used to make… Heck, write us a macaroni and cheese haiku! (Winners will be chosen by random number generator, but if you go the extra mile to write us a macaroni and cheese haiku, you will earn our eternal affection and gratitude, as well as a big ol’ blogland shout out.)

Don’t delay — contest ends next week!

 

 

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Our bouncing baby olive oil

Friday, June 18th, 2010

Tastier than the Heifer International sheep I gave him (probably)

 

My dad is one of those people who is nearly impossible to shop for, because when he wants something, he simply goes out and buys it. And also because his interests are a bit obscure. So I’m often forced to resort to giving him gifts with a novelty factor higher than I’d like. Sometimes these are good for a few laughs, like the sheep I “gave” him one year; his sheep “sent” him a birthday card, father’s day card, etc and I thought it was hysterical (even if he didn’t).

(By “he” I mean Dad. No idea what the sheep thought of my hijinks.)

Last Christmas I was not only devoid of ideas, I was short on time, so I gave Dad an olive tree. Well, the tree is still in Italy where it has always been, but Dad and Dorothy are its adoptive parents for 2010.

Blame Martha. I discovered this in her holiday gift guide (sorry, 404 page not found).

The way it works: You send the company, Nudo, some money and tell them the olive grove where you’d like your tree to be located. I selected a grove called Il Professore because my old man has a PhD, and because the old guy who nurtures that grove has planted all the trees himself, and he treats each one like an individual. That is some serious olive reverence right there. Then Nudo sends your gift recipient a really rather spiffy looking adoption certificate and brochure full of romantic photos of idyllic Italian scenery, and the ID info for “your” tree.

Sigh!

 Then in May and again in the fall, they send you the olive oil made from your tree’s olives. Actually it would be cost prohibitive for them to process the olive oil one tree at a time, so they do it several dozen trees at a time. But the olive oil they send you is, in part, produced by your tree. Kinda neat? I thought so, considering that my folks are foodies, cook with olive oil all the time, and (did I already mention) are extremely difficult to shop for…

Their first shipment arrived a couple weeks ago, so I paid them a visit for an official tasting of this much heralded oil. And to my surprise, it really does taste awesome! Bright and peppery. Puts the junk in my pantry to shame. We sampled it with good crusty bread and almost could have made a meal of it, it was so delicious. I’m tickled that D&D gave me my very own tin of their harvest (the spring shipment, plain first-cold-press extra virgin, consisted of three 500ml tins and one 250ml tin; we are told to expect roughly the same volume in the fall but those tins will contain oils flavored with citrus, peppers and other delights).

The whole scheme is managed by a British couple who moved to this charming place in the Apennine foothills and dedicated themselves to reviving an old olive grove. They write of this place and its traditional ways with such respect and fondness, it really resonated with me — a chick who likes to make her own jam, who thrills to weave fabric and bind books and do certain things the old fashioned way. I was also pleased to support their local economy because these groves are located not far from the site of last year’s significant earthquake, and we gotta look out for each other.

Nudo says that some adopters even visit their trees. I’m not sure we’ll take things to that extreme, but I’m glad this has turned out to be a delicious adventure right here at home.

 

 

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Aloha and Uff-da!

Wednesday, June 16th, 2010

I really oughta just join the darn lodge, right?

I’ve fallen hard for the monthly socials at the Sons of Norway. I can’t explain my fascination with that place but I do feel like an honorary Norwegian after attending so many SoN functions over the past 30 years. Maybe I just feel good hanging out with a group where I’m still considered a youngster. Or maybe it’s because my own family does not practice any particular cultural traditions related to our ancestry. (If anyone knows of a Lithuanian lodge, puhleeeeeze let me know!)

The Christmas tree, customarily decked out in Norwegian flags, dressed up in tikis and hibiscus for this month's festivities.

I think even Vivian has had enough lodge-going for a while, but I insisted that we had to check out this month’s social, a Polynesian luau. I mean, come on!! For one thing, I was dying to see what Norwegians cook when they set out to cook Polynesian food. (When we were teenagers, Vivian and I spent a whole day preparing an elaborate Chinese feast for her family; for lunch the next day, her mother combined all the Chinese leftovers in one pot with a can of tomato soup.) (And no, Viv, I will never tire of telling that story.)

No matter what is being served, it's not dinner at the Sons of Norway without a cup of coffee.

Dinner turned out to be chicken and pork chops, both served in the same fruity-sweet sauce straight out of the 1950s Betty Crocker cookbook. There was some debate over which piece was the chop and which piece was the chicken. It turned out not to matter. These were served with green beans amandine (probably from the same 1950s cookbook) and rice with soy sauce. And a squishy roll. It’s not dinner without lots of empty carbs.

Tempest concentrated on her supper of banana instead. She probably had the better meal.

The photographer must employ better evasive techniques, as the sticky child's hand-eye coordination improves.

The Polynesian dance group was entertaining; the ringleader/singer had a sweet voice and the ladies sure could shake those things. Pompoms, I mean.

Yes, the dude in the middle is drumming on a folding chair. Apparently it is a Samoan tradition?

Dammit, and there I was, wearing neither my floral caftan nor my coconut bra! Alas and alack.

Every few songs, this guy came out and scared the bejeezus out of a meek Norwegian with his terrifying grimace.

Boo! Or however you say that in Samoan.

All in all, it was an entertaining evening — it was fun watching Tempest watch the dancers, and Vivian won the raffle prize, which is a free dinner at the October social. Yay! Can’t wait to find out the theme of that one…

 

 

 

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Things That Make Me Happy (#7)

Tuesday, June 15th, 2010

Not the most scenic shot, but it still makes me swoon...

As Laura and I got back in the car after the bake sale, I caught a glimpse of Griffith Observatory perched up on the hill. That means the HOLLYWOOD sign is right behind the jacaranda (gorgeous purple) tree.

I’ve lived in the Los Angeles area since 1989 and I still feel a small thrill whenever I spy either of these landmarks.

I mean, it’s one thing to go up to the observatory to have the ultimate view and photo op of the HOLLYWOOD sign, but it’s quite a different thing to be toodling around town, running errands and dodging traffic and trying to find something, anything decent on the radio in this town, and then suddenly HEY! LOOK! AH! It makes my day, every time.

 

 

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Another No Cookie Left Behind success story

Monday, June 14th, 2010

Yum!

 Yesterday, Scoops on Heliotrope was the site of another excellent bake sale put together by No Cookie Left Behind.

Adorable logo!

 This one wasn’t as mad a crush as the February sale, which I believe netted almost $5K for Haiti earthquake relief, but there seemed to be a steady stream of happy customers, so I hope the sale was a rousing success. Benefiting Share Our Strength, this month’s sale featured four tables of treats donated by home bakers as well as local pros.

The magic words this time were “brown butter” and ”fleur de sel.” I’d say a third of the offerings involved one or the other (if not both). Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Charming details

 This time I brought my friend Laura because I remembered seeing quite a bit of vegan patisserie last time. Of course, this time there were only two vegan offerings, neither of which was stuff Laura enjoys. D’oh!! Even Scoops let us down on the vegan front! So the trip was not productive for Laura, but I did pick up a few treats:

Clearly, I was feeling the cupcake vibe

So far I’ve sampled a bite of the lemon cupcake in the lower left corner (delish, especially the frosting), a bite of the peach cupcake with brown butter frosting in the upper right corner (burned on the bottom, very dry but the frosting was good), one of the macarons in the adorable little box (macarons are sort of like tender amaretto cookies sandwiched with something yummy, in this case dulce de leche) and a fragment of the big cookie.

The cookie is pretty interesting. It contains white chocolate chips, whole almonds, diced dried apricots and a touch of curry powder — not so much that it hits you over the head, but just enough to introduce some mystery. Sort of like the subtlety of the black pepper in pfeffernusse. I just googled for a recipe but no dice. May have to experiment because I really like it!

In case that wasn’t enough decadence for one week, I also picked up a small serving of Scoops’ fantabulous black sesame gelato, which has been my favorite for years but may have been surpassed by the other flavor nestled in my tiny bowl: salted white chocolate. Yeah, I succumbed to the salt theme after all. I cannot express how delicious these Scoops flavors are. Just: go. They probably won’t have salted white chocolate or black sesame, but whatever they do have will be just as delish.

 

 

 

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A one-night-stand with the Sleep Doctor

Thursday, June 10th, 2010

At least I was having a decent hair night...sorta.

My physician wants to get to the bottom of this Suz Not Sleeping thing, although I have mixed feelings about resolving the situation. I get a LOT done in the wee hours, and I’ve never found a sleeping pill that didn’t leave me feeling like a zombie in the morning. But I do think my days would benefit from more restful nights, so off I went to a sleep study last week.

I reported to the lab at 8pm, where my technician, Rese, spent an hour wiring me up with sensors all over my head, chest and legs. Dealing with the miles of wires was kind of a hassle but only the sensor on my throat bothered me. Then Rese handed me the tv remote control and told me to signal her when I was ready to go to sleep (the signal was to briefly remove the oxygen thingy from my finger, to interrupt the reading).

It didn’t take long to figure out that Advanced Sleep Medicine Services Incorporated is a pretty sneaky sis, because you’re basically immobilized and their cable channels totally suck so there’s no reason to stay awake. I found Fox, CBS, fifteen Spanish language channels, twice that many in various Asian languages, and TV Albania, I kid you not. I kept hitting Channel Up, hoping for something Bollywood or, geez, even the Golf Channel would have been sufficient. But no. So I turned off the tube, caaaaarrrefullllllllyyyyy rolled over without disconnecting myself from my scientific tethers, waved at the spy camera and tried to fall asleep.

You know how that usually goes…trying to fall asleep. Yeah. And falling asleep is not usually my problem. It’s staying asleep that eludes me. I managed to doze off after about 40 minutes, I think.

At 1am, Rese woke me up to fit me with a bi-pap mask. (Sorry, no pix. Dude!!) This is a plastic mask that fits over the nose and mouth and blows warm, humid air into you, to keep your airway open while you sleep. More wires and tubes, yay. The forced air didn’t bother me, but the mask freaked me the fuck out. There is no other way to say it. I suffered a legit panic attack complete with racing heartbeat, hyperventilation, uncontrollable sobs and a distinct and terrifying sensation of hurtling through space like a spiraling football. Plus, the mask was making my temperature skyrocket.

I tried to talk myself down from this hysteria, tried deep and slow breathing and creative visualization and all that jazz, but nothing helped. After a while (I have no idea how long, but it was as long as I could manage — maybe forty minutes?) I sat up, planting my feet firmly on the ground in an attempt to stop the madness. A few moments later, Rese appeared and removed the awful mask from my gasping face.

It was not my finest moment.

Rese suggested I spend a little while unmasked, relaxing, and she transferred my oxygen meter thingy from my finger to my big toe so I could crochet. Yeah, other than the big freakout in the middle and all the sensors, this night turned out like most nights: fitful sleep, then ninety minutes of rhythmic, restful crochet, then more fitful sleep.

Around 3:30am Rese asked if I felt like trying again. I really did not want to, but I sucked it up and let her strap me into a different mask. This time I was meditating from the start, in addition to being that much more tired, and I managed to doze off for an hour or two before she woke me and sent me on my way at 6am.

I haven’t heard the results yet but I desperately hope I do not have sleep apnea. That mask and I did not. get. along.

If you have any experience with CPAP or BIPAP and can talk me down, I’d really appreciate a pep talk…

 

 

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Downtown Mac Disaster Tour, part 3 (in which we resort to alcohol)

Wednesday, June 9th, 2010

This mac was so yucky, even my camera didn't like it.

 

Hilary and Suzy, they who heart macaroni and cheese, conclude their disappointing tour of downtown Los Angeles at Cole’s. At least the cocktails are strong.

 

 

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Things That Make Me Happy (#6)

Thursday, June 3rd, 2010

a work of cocktail art

 

Note the custom-hewn ice block. It’s what the hipster kids are chilling their drinks with, these days.

Recently I enjoyed this gorgeous and extremely bracing Old Fashioned at Cole’s in downtown Los Angeles.

Unfortunately, I can’t say I enjoyed their macaroni and cheese. Read all about it here, if you dare.

 

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