The arrival of autumn...

I might as well admit it; fall is here.  It is the last day of September, after all.  But the temperature is really starting to drop and it's getting harder to get by with just a sweater and scarf.  Pretty soon I'm going to have to start putting the lights on my bike when I ride home from work.  Where did the summer go?!  Oh wait, we didn't really have one, or a legitimate one, anyway.

As much as I'll miss my summer produce, I really do love the comforting foods of fall.  After a summer of being reluctant to turn on the oven and add to the heat in my non-ventilated kitchen, I'm always ready to start roasting.

Tonight as my hands froze as I rode home, I couldn't wait to return to the black eyed peas with sausage that I knew awaited me in the fridge.  It's one of those meals that really needs to be made on a weekend, it takes forever (dried beans be damned), but is so worth it that next day (and the next... and next) when it just needs to be reheated on the stove.

Who wouldn't want to come home to that?

I'd like to find a way to make it vegetarian, but I think I'd lose some depth of flavor from the sausage (Lionette's has the best all-natural, free range, etc. handmade Italian sausages; not to shortchange the phenomenal lamb and apricot sausages...).  Any ideas on how I might gain some of that back from a non-meat source?  I was thinking maybe adding a beer instead of some of the water, an Octoberfest-style lager perhaps. 

I'm also on a mission to consume everything in my pantry before we move.  Tonight, that means chocolate pudding.  Not sure why I bought chocolate pudding, it's not exactly a normal pantry staple for me, but I had some whipping cream left over from the gateau last week, so....

Hysterical

“What’s the two things they tell you are healthiest to eat? Chicken and fish . . . You know what you should do? Combine them. Eat a penguin.” –Dave Attell (b. 1965), American comedian

I'm on Twitter

Follow me:  @emmmilykj


Still working on figuring this all out, but I'll probably tweet when I have a new blog post?  Or other things come my way that I want to share... in very short text.

An American in...

As I was lying in bed this morning a thought occurred to me -- there's really no reason why I can't do what David Lebovitz has done, namely, move to a new country, pay attention to what's going on around you, and write about it.  Of course, it helps if you happen to be a pastry chef with several cookbooks under your belt and are living in the country that defined the pastry, but it's not an entirely complicated concept.

I could do this.  I'd like start living a little more intentionally, not just floating through days but really appreciating what's going on around me.  This morning, I happened to be particularly grateful that it was drizzling, because despite my overall lack of sleep, there wasn't a throng of people with dogs and children standing outside on the corner at the Buttery, their barks, cries, and conversations keeping me even more awake on a Sunday morning.  It's time to start counting the little things.

To that end, maybe I don't have to go to a foreign country.  Of course, I'd love to (An American in Liguria wouldn't be a bad blog concept...), but really, can't I be an American in... America?  Who knows what I'll be doing a year from now, but at least I'll have paid attention to the changing landscape.

Gateau Therese

Late last week I got a nice surprise in my inbox -- my long wait to borrow David Lebovitz's "The Sweet Life in Paris" from the library had ended and I could come claim my book. This could not have come at a better time; I've been between books, trying to decide what to read next, and really needed something light and entertaining for the sake of my sanity.

That departure from reality came in the form of witty quips about the daily trials of being an American living in Paris, an observer from the outside. It also comes complete with numerous recipes I couldn't wait to try.

Hence, Wednesday is now cake and wine night. Gateau Therese, a chocolate cake, sounded delicious and simple, so much so that I needed to create an occasion to make it (not that I'm above making cake for myself).

I made the cake in a slightly larger loaf pan than suggested, but I don't think I lost anything aside from a few millimeters of the center (the best part). It was delicious: intensely chocolatey, not too sweet, and incredibly light despite its dense appearance, thanks to lots of egg whites. Perfect with a little whipped cream, or a big glass of milk.


I think I'll need to copy a few more recipes from this book before I return it. If you see it at a bookstore, I highly recommend paging through it; a very entertaining read and at least one great recipe (though I'm sure there are more).

If I'm going to perfect the art of something, it might have to be chocolate cake...

Epic fail to epic win

My friend had a party for her birthday last night, so I thought I'd make a cake. Still having yet to use my new bundt pan, this was a perfect opportunity. So I made the batter, baked, cooled, and flipped... tragically. Apparently I hadn't greased the pan enough because about a quarter of the cake remained in the pan. It was completely un-salvageable.



Or so I thought.

One is reminded of the wonder that is the internet when you can Google "bundt cake disaster" and actually come up with some usable results. "Leftover chocolate cake" was an even better search term and gave me a few viable options for my cake mess. I decided to go with a trifle.

Picking up a chunk of perfectly good cake and crumbling it in your hands is one of the more bizarre feelings I've experienced. It's kind of fun but yet feels so wrong. Anyway, cake crumbs layered with chocolate pudding, Heath bits, and amaretto-spiked whipped cream turns into a pretty great dessert. Really, it may have been better than the cake alone (but really, what's not better with whipped cream and toffee) and was a hit at the party, even if it was a little more utensil-intensive than I had planned. Score one for ingenuity!

The lake

There is something about the lake that I closely associate with food. By the lake, I mean my family's lake home in northern Wisconsin, where I spent Labor Day weekend. By food, I mean just that, but particularly the consumption of it: sandwiches, cheeses, wine, dessert, all in quantities generally larger than I'd normally ingest, yet somehow I never feel upset with myself. The association isn't such a mystery. I come from a family of cooks and eaters, "foodies" before the word was cool. Just a group of women (and men) who enjoy food and the preparation of it beyond the daily task of putting a meal on the table.


As you can imagine, this tends to make holiday meals pretty spectacular, but it's the simple (and sometimes not quite so), no-pressure meals at the lake that are the best. Cheese is plated and wine served generously at five, a meal cooked prior to arrival reaheated or a grill fired up at seven, served with a fresh salad and more wine shortly thereafter. And dessert. Always dessert. Stomachs full and bodies tired, few of us last much beyond the ten o'clock news.

Lunch has a tendency to come from the Eagle River Bakery, unless leftovers abound. The bakery specializes in sandwiches; nothing fancy, just a variety of combinations of deli meats and cheeses, all named after northwoods animals. Choose your animal, your bread (freshly baked), dressings, and a cookie. We generally call in our order ahead of time, picking up bags of the styrofoam containers, each complete with a sandwich, pickle, rippled chips, and the ever-ubiquitous cookie -- cranberry nut is the house favorite. There may or may not actually be anything that spectacular about the sandwiches themselves, but the fact that they're good (an unfortunate rarity in the northwoods), readily available, and are generally eaten on the boat, elevates them to a level beyond where they might otherwise reside.


Food is really only as good as those you share it with, and can always be improved by your surroundings. Here's to the lake.