Travel, food, and some stories of life in the Mohawk Valley.
My new book, available on Amazon (2/2021) in both paperback and Kindle version, is a food and travel memoir. Written in 2008 (and just published this year), it’s the story of traveling with my husband, Lynn and two children. Canada, California and numerous European countries are some of the places we visit. Join us for the ride.
It’s been a while since I have written. Our summer, like those of many people we know, was highly unusual. First and foremost, we tried to stay as close to home (within a three hour drive at least) as possible. I did miss “road trip” traveling this summer and being home more than usual, I found myself gravitating towards movies on TV that had scenes of Europe. (We were supposed to go back to Italy this year.)
One night Chocolat was on and I found myself looking fondly not only at Johnny Depp but also at Juliette Binoche who plays the character of “Vianne.” (Fun fact about Julie: I love windy days!) Consequently, when Vianne and her daughter Anouk travel to a new town “whenever the north wind blows” and somehow come up with a magic chocolate recipe that becomes their livelihood, well, that just made me want to travel even more.
I’ve always been a traveler and this blog was supposed to reflect that. Consequently, not being able to travel this summer because of the pandemic was a challenge. Therefore, we made do. Unfortunately, I traded in traveling for online shopping. Yes, I became one of those awful people who would eagerly wait every day for our local postman, UPS woman or FedEx guy to walk up our very long driveway, dutifully carrying the stuff we purchased.
They, invariably, wore a smile as they worked and I would thank them profusely for delivering all the things we ordered. Granted, some of the items purchased weren’t necessary but ultimately some of them came in very handy.
Two summers ago I had bought Marisa McClellan’s book, Food In Jars , but had not attempted a single recipe! When I tried to order the jars that I needed, I found that all the mason jars to be had in the entire Northern Hemisphere were back-ordered for at least 2 months. This would have been fine had it been May (the beginning of the growing season) but not August when suddenly I had tons of green beans that would be perfect to “put up!” Beets and garlic were showing up in the farmer’s markets, too, and tomatoes, well, let’s just say there were lots and lots of tomatoes that were waiting to be canned.
One day after my now nearly daily visit to the supermarket, I found some amber-colored jars and even though they were “wide-mouthed,” I bought them anyway. I learned to can “dilly” beans and ginger-infused beets but when I put them in the dark jars it came to me. The reason no one buys dark canning jars is because you can’t see what’s inside! Luckily, a couple of my beans managed to edge their way to one side so I could at least distinguish between the beans and the beets.
I also finally got to use a huge pot I had bought years ago with every intention of perhaps trying to steam my own lobsters. I never actually did that, preferring to buy them already cooked but luckily this pot turned out to be the perfect size and height for submerging mason jars in preparation for canning. When I realized you need lots and lots of mason jars when canning enormous amounts of produce (not just four!), I went back online and found some pint-sized ones with a delivery date of only three weeks. (A month later those same mason jars had also doubled in price but I ordered them again anyway.)
I also learned to make my own lobster rolls (buying the aforementioned lobsters already steamed for the awesome price of $5.99 a pound). Then I began to wonder why all these years (last summer in particular when we were driving through Maine towards Prince Edward Island) we were paying $25.00 or more for a mediocre lobster roll for lunch! (Second photo is one of my really yummy lobster rolls not an over-priced restaurant version.)
Then there were the tomatoes! Yikes, I think I now know why people easily can cucumbers to make pickles and buy tons of berries to make jam but do you know how many tomatoes you need to make sauce? You literally need a box full of tomatoes that will (if you’re lucky) yield less than a dozen jars of delicious, but thin (imagine V-8) sauce.
Besides canning, Lynn and I decided to start hiking. Since we live a mere 30 minutes from one section of the Adirondack Park, there was really no reason not to walk. Problem was, everywhere we went, there were tons of people hiking as well. We decided to try and limit our outings to only going out during the week (weekends being verboten) only to discover that many others had a similar idea.
We walked up Kane Mountain – a challenge for me before I bought a good walking stick since I’m not only afraid of heights but I had trouble catching my breath when hiking up and down the mountain. (I was never a smoker just out of shape.) I also didn’t expect to find all those tree roots! If you are as inexperienced a hiker as I am, one little root could definitely send you falling either on your face or your behind!
But as they say, if you don’t do the climb, you don’t get the view. Here’s the tower I managed to climb!
And here’s the reward:
After that challenge though, we opted for more sedate hikes. We sought out rail trails and easy paths always hoping for something with a view.
We bought hiking poles, an insulated backpack for these journeys and always made sure to have a cooler in the car for unexpected farm stands.
We visited numerous state parks and collected many rocks on the shoreline of Lake Ontario.
We revisited Chimney Bluffs near Wolcott, NY, and discovered Tibbetts Point Lighthouse which overlooked the Saint Lawrence River.
We hiked quite a few trails in the Adirondack Park but also drove miles both north and south of us in search of the perfect waterfall.
The summer had been very dry so every time we drove two hours plus we were happy if the water was actually cascading over the rocks and not just a trickle.
We frequently packed a lunch, usually a sandwich or bagel (plus I would begrudgingly pack potato chips for Lynn since he loves chips) but made sure to also pack some fresh fruit. We would occasionally try to visit a winery during the week (thinking that weekends would be more crowded) only to find that similar to our hiking adventures, many of these establishments were just as packed on a sunny Tuesday!
When we ate out, we would only eat at establishments where we could sit outside. And the menu had to have at least one item that I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) make myself. (See the problem with being a decent home cook?) Most of the time we got lucky; look at this beautiful version of a “Falafel Scottish Egg” as the topping on a bed of arugula encased in a cucumber “ring” while lying in a pool of Romesco sauce! (We had this lovely appetizer for lunch one day at the Otesaga Hotel in Cooperstown. )
When we weren’t out “wandering,” we would hang out on the deck. We would fight (yes, literally) over who got to water the vegetable garden in the back of the house and the flowers and bushes in the front of the house. (Hey, it was an activity.)
In between I baked. A pound cake baked in a Bundt pan seemed like a good idea at the time even though it was big enough to feed eight! A quiche is always a welcome lunch addition and I even tried to make chocolate-filled brioche courtesy of a Dorie Greenspan recipe. (They were belly-bombs!)
We bought a new grill which resulted in me trying to find something to grill that I hadn’t made before. Wait! Want to see the instructions on “how to put the grill together?”
How about an Eric Ripert recipe for grilled romaine that’s slathered with mayonnaise, Parmesan and some anchovy paste? What about a Mediterranean spin (that would be olives and tomatoes) on some home-grown asparagus?
The few times we did take-out, we often had to drive 60-70 miles to bring home sushi or oysters on the half shell. (That sounds reasonable, right?)
And on those days that I was working, we would have salad, or my old 1970’s standby, tomatoes stuffed with homemade tuna salad.
And then there was the sand box. I decided we needed a swing so Lynn built a sandbox, too. We hung up the swing (also purchased online) and one windy day (scenes of Chocolat perhaps?), the branch snapped. In hindsight, was I perhaps trying to swing my way to a make-believe travel adventure? Of course, it wasn’t a clean break but a messy, dangling break that required an amputation!
We even blew up a large kiddie pool complete with beach balls and a couple of “donut” floats. (We never did get the pool level even after three months!)
And purchased some new chairs and a fire pit!
Our children came to see us a few times this past summer and we were careful to social distance and eat outside. When we were inside, we kept the patio doors wide open and they, and their respective partners, were kind enough to get COVID tested before they came up for a visit. Each and every time after they left though Lynn and I both felt sad. (We miss them!)
Going into the fall season, we’ve been hiking a bit less but at least trying to walk closer to home. We walk along the Erie Canal nearly every day (even in the rain) and try to find some paths we haven’t explored yet. One day, we found the remains of an abandoned building, reminding us just how prosperous the town was way back when.
In the meantime, the minute the weather started to get colder, I made dumplings and my version of Ramen.
Now that we are a few days away from turning back the clocks and going into true fall season, we’ve started to put all our outdoor “toys” away. We got the snowblower repaired (it broke last season) and put extra mulch on our rose bushes.
We visited an orchard the other day to get some apples since my second order of mason jars finally arrived and making apple sauce is on my “to do” list. I was also very tickled at the sight of our Amish farmers stack of pumpkin decorations.
Is it too soon to look forward to next summer? I believe so, especially “whenever the north wind blows.”
Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.
Just a few weeks ago here in the Mohawk Valley we thought spring was upon us. The tulips were blooming and the bamboo started to grow back as well. Then we woke up one morning to snow.
It gave me time to reflect on how life takes unexpected turns and weather even more so. Since we have been sheltering in place like millions of people all over the world during this pandemic, Lynn and I have spent a lot of time together. Luckily, we never run out of things to talk about – mostly we discuss places we’ve traveled to with a couple of foodie meal reminiscences thrown in for good measure. It’s precisely because we have traveled so much that I’ve come to realize how many memories we have shared together.
“I spoke to you first,” my husband Lynn said to me at dinner the other night. “You know, I kept seeing you on the elevator but you ignored me.”
I had to laugh when he said this to me. I had heard the story before but now that we have been home together every single day and night (except for the occasional trip to the supermarket, liquor store or pharmacy), I actually had time to think about way back when. Full confession: I don’t remember seeing him on an elevator! I don’t think this makes me a terrible person or bad wife, it just means I remember things differently.
For example, I remember the day we met at a dorm party. It was October 6, 1979 and I even remember what I was wearing (white jeans, light blue top). But it makes me wonder, on the day we “officially” met, could we have ever envisioned 41 years later that we would be sheltering in place in a Big Red House a mere 75 miles from where it all started? Highly unlikely.
Want to see what I looked like back then? Yes, I did in fact prefer to wear peasant skirts and a BLOUSE!
Prior to our purchasing the Red House, we used to spend a lot of time in California; January after the holidays (our Christmas gift to each other) and again in September/October for our anniversary and hopefully also timing it with “crush” if we were in Northern California. Who wouldn’t want to look at beautiful vineyards filled with grapes, drink copious amounts of wine and drive the coast – especially with views like this?
If we weren’t in California, then we were in Europe. Often we even took the kids. The first and only time we have been to Berlin we took them with us. If I went back to Berlin now and revisited the Brandenburg Gate, I would probably wonder where they had wandered off to.
Lynn and I have also been fortunate to have traveled to Paris many times. But to this day, even if it’s just the two of us in Paris, I still think of Nicholas skateboarding in front of the Eiffel Tower!
And Rachel? Could she have posed for a picture any prettier than in Monet’s garden in Giverny?
During this pandemic, I started to think about all the family trips for other families that may never happen. What about first dates and chance encounters that are missed? Remember the scene in Back to the Future where Michael J. Fox (playing the character Marty McFly) realizes that if his parents don’t meet and you know, kiss big time, he, himself, would not have been born. And remember how he then spends a good part of the movie watching himself slowly fade away on a photograph he’s holding in his hand? That’s how I kind of feel these days about memories that aren’t happening.
Would our life together have been different if we had never gone to California? This picture of us (one of my favorites actually) wouldn’t exist. Would we understand and appreciate farm to table cooking and good wine as much?
What if we had never traveled with our kids? Rachel never would have been standing on a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
And what about smooching the Blarney Stone? There wouldn’t be a photograph of the four of us standing on the ramparts of the Blarney Castle in Ireland. (P.S. I didn’t kiss the rock, I just looked at it.)
These past few weeks I’ve started to think not only of trips we’ve made together but of birthdays we celebrated too.
Here’s the cake that I made for Rachel’s birthday 10 years ago!
That was the cake for the “family” party. She also had a sweet 16 and celebrated with some of her girlfriends with a limo ride and dinner at a popular restaurant in NYC. She’s so beautiful here in her dress!
How many of these milestone events now during our “stay at home” order will have to be spent at home and not celebrated according to plan? Will these celebrations ever be made up or will we just do something on a smaller scale or ignore them totally and move on?
One of my nieces, Daniella, shared some of her thoughts with me about not having the sweet 16 party she was supposed to have. She wrote, “I really wanted to go to school for my birthday to see my friends and everything but school got canceled 3 days before. And then we found out on my birthday that the restaurant was closed…so everyone came over for pizza that night. I was supposed to have a party and that never happened. And we were supposed to see a Broadway play and that’s been postponed. ”
She also mentioned other friends whose parties keep getting pushed back and knows friends who have “just sat at home on their birthday.” She told me she really “did luck out” with the small gathering she was able to have in her honor.
I think that’s a really good attitude to have these days.
This Memorial Day weekend is bittersweet. Usually by this time of year I’m struggling with the stress of what we call the “end of the school year finish line.” But since I’m working from home these days, the finish line is a lot easier. Normally, Lynn and I have already mapped out summer vacation plans or at least a road trip or two. This year we were thinking about going back to Nova Scotia – an area we haven’t visited in 30 years. We were also thinking about a repeat visit to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater in Pennsylvania on the way to Nashville.
Then there is Lake Superior. It’s the only one of the “Great Lakes” we haven’t seen together. And when I get an idea in my head about doing something or going somewhere, eventually I make it happen. Apparently, that won’t be the case this summer.
It’s probably the traveling part that I miss the most coupled with the knowledge going forward that there may be no travels whatsoever for us anytime soon. Does this mean we will simply be “camping” forever at the Red House?
I think this is actually okay. We’ve managed to finally catch up on some overdue home projects. After all, it’s been a little less than a year since we permanently moved up to the Mohawk Valley. And yes, believe it or not, there is still one box that hasn’t been unpacked because it’s filled with pictures and some art work that either needs to be framed and/or hung on a wall.
There has also been quite a bit of gardening. I even bought myself a new pair of gardening gloves which I found particularly charming in that they bizarrely had my paternal grandmother’s name stitched on the side.
I realize that this sheltering in place has not only compromised our lifestyle but made us redefine family and home. Now we spend days deliberately and carefully avoiding any contact with anyone. There are signs taped on the floor of one of the few stores we frequent – directing us where to stand and which direction to walk. And always reminding us to “social distance” and remain six feet apart.
Meanwhile, the deer on our property obviously aren’t following the “rules,” they are congregating in larger groups than we’ve seen before.
But I have to think that this pandemic has compromised so many memories. So much of our childhood and young adulthood relies on certain milestones – whether it be a sweet 16 or school graduation. To make matters even worse, it’s the elderly parents and grandparents who can’t celebrate these milestones with us. I’ve seen pictures of people waving to their parents and grandparents through a window. This saddens me. What about those folks who are deemed too “vulnerable” to even go outside to shop or take a simple walk in case they are exposed to the virus? What memories will they have other than of being stuck at home?
Pictures, of course, help immensely in trying to remember how life had been. But you can’t take a photograph of an important milestone if the milestone doesn’t happen.
I mean, look at sweet Nicholas when he won a plaque for competing in a karate tournament on Long Island!
Or Rachel on her first trip to France when I asked her to turn around so I could photograph her in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles!
Meanwhile, as we prepare for the summer months, it’s good to spend time outside; gardening (as mentioned) helps immensely. Most of the vegetables are planted and I’m working on a new planter box filled with herbs as well.
This is a photograph I took of a mural painted on a hotel room wall in St. Paul de Vence one summer when we were traveling through the south of France. It’s quite lovely isn’t it? Sigh, I do miss that life.
There’s a lot of time for reflection these days. Lynn and I have been lucky. We don’t know anyone personally who has gotten sick or died from COVID-19. We do know many people who have lost their jobs and are struggling with meager unemployment checks and countless bills to pay. We have tried to help our local farmers by purchasing CSA shares and shopping at their small farm stands when we can. We have tried to limit our online shopping, choosing instead to support local butchers and bakers and liquor stores. We play a lot of Scrabble. We have watched more TV than we normally do but we try to limit the amount of news we watch because it’s just too depressing. We have repeatedly cleaned the house and organized drawers and thought of even more projects to do both inside and outside our home.
Actually, like my niece Daniella wrote, I think we did “luck out.” And while I miss our travel life , I’m okay with this new “normal. ”
Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.
Since we have been sheltering in place since March 10 (the school district on Long Island that I work for was the first to close because of a confirmed Coronavirus case), it has given me ample time to reflect on the many things I’m grateful for.
First and foremost that the house I live in now is the biggest house we’ve ever owned. There are lots of rooms to wander in and out of, plus a choice of where not only to work but read as well. I also, finally, have a kitchen that’s really big. This means that when I’m cooking, it’s perfectly okay for people to hang out and watch me do so. (Wouldn’t it be lovely to have a family party/feast right about now? I think so.)
There’s been a lot of cooking. There’s been a lot of eating. I have discovered cookbooks that I bought or were gifted to me over 30 years ago. I now have the time to read through them and I have even attempted to make some of the recipes. After all, who wouldn’t want to at least leaf through this giant “coffee table” book of Provence, especially when you can’t go there anytime soon!
There’s also been a lot of baking. Since I don’t particularly like baking and reluctantly do it around the Christmas season, this has become a revelation for me. Now I’ve finally come to understand why I originally hated it; it just takes way too much time to bake things. Suddenly, I’ve come to appreciate it! Why? Because all those steps that are necessary to get dough to rise or butter to soften, well, are actually perfect to follow now when all one has is time. So far I’ve made muffins and bread and a fairly simple Dorie Greenspan apple galette.
I even made my first tray of baklava! I remember years ago trying to work with phyllo and not understanding the concept. What do you mean I had to brush this very fragile dough with melted butter while keeping the sheets of dough I was not using under a “damp” cloth. Now I get it. Note to self: see you can teach an old dog new tricks!
I’ve also been making dishes that are labor-intensive. I’m not going so far as to pretend I’m Julie Powell cooking every single recipe in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking cookbook (remember she wrote a cooking blog during the aftermath of 9/11 that became a book that morphed into a movie). I have, however, been attempting to cook things I don’t normally make – like challah. I mean come on braiding strands of dough? I could barely braid my daughter’s hair when she was little let alone some dough.
All this cooking by the way, if anyone has been married as long as I have, has made my husband very happy. Apparently, even though I’m a very good cook, he likes the fact that I’m making things I’ve never made or haven’t made in years. Most of which is not very good for him (or me). Case in point: Tempura Fried Shrimp.
And then I spent an entire Sunday afternoon (not that it really matters what day it is anymore) making a new meatball recipe. I know, I know, I don’t like meatballs very much either. But I opened a cookbook, Italian Regional Cooking, (seen here among many others on the shelf above my stove) that Ada Boni wrote in 1969 and I couldn’t resist trying her
Polpetta di Carne also known as “Meatballs in Tomato Sauce Neapolitan Style.” Why? Because I was interested in how combining chopped meat with golden raisins and nuts coupled with bread crumbs, parsley, garlic and “lard” (note: I substituted 2 slices of bacon) would taste. Dare I reveal you have to fry the meatballs and then simmer the whole thing in a big batch of tomato sauce? PS: They were good!
Besides the cooking I’m also working from home. This turned out to be much easier than I thought it would be primarily because our outside IT company was able to get me up and running very quickly. While there are certain components to the job that take 3x as long to do remotely, overall everything is getting done. And ultimately, that’s all that matters.
But working at home has also given me time to reflect on what it would be like if our kids were still young. When I worked at FIT in New York City (and before flex-time was even a concept), I managed to negotiate a four day work week so I could stay home when both our son and daughter were little. I would spend the extra day off (usually Friday) with our first born and sometimes we would go feed the ducks at a small pond in the neighborhood. Other times we’d visit a local amusement park (Nunley’s on Long Island before they tore it down to build a Pep Boys) so he could ride around in a little car.
After lunch and a nap (his not mine), we would color and read and sing songs. Later he would watch me make dinner and when he got older (like around the ripe old age of 3), he was able to make a sandwich on his own or at least pretend he could.
When our daughter arrived five years later, we would walk on the boardwalk in Long Beach, NY. Since my braiding skills even then were lousy, at least I managed to pull her hair back into what I consider a very posh pony tail.
And when she got older, she and I would walk on the sand, often slowly, so she could stop to pick up pretty shells and colorful rocks.
Today during this state of “PAUSE” in New York, I think about parents who are at home with their school-age children and the very many demands that are put upon them. If the parents are trying to work remotely and the kids have school work to complete, too, well say no more. With probably limited outdoor activity and no fun excursions to a beach or boardwalk or local park, I can only imagine the high levels of stress for everyone in that household.
I’m also wondering how Lynn and I would cope with raising teenagers during this time. Both our son and daughter were very independent. Could we conceivably have asked them not to leave the house during this time to go hang out and visit their friends? If we had tried to make them stay home would they have listened to us? I think probably not.
In the meantime, my parents, now in their 80’s, are home on Long Island. Our daughter lives close by with her boyfriend and she does check in with them via phone and an occasional drive-by. Our son and his wife are in Astoria. They run every day to break up the monotony of being at home and trying to work from home. They not only call the grandparents but Facetime us frequently, too. For that I’m very happy. And while I love the tremendous amount of space and property we have at the Red House, I miss our children during these very trying times.
For now, I will keep cooking and baking and working from home. And for all the kids out there, the young ones in particular who are pretend doctors and bakers and carnival-makers (like the two you see below), you never know, some of them might actually remember this time fondly.
Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.
Last weekend I challenged myself in the cooking arena. I pretended I didn’t know how to cook and found three New York Times recipes and one recipe from Food & Wine that I thought I would “try” to make. These were supposed to be simple one-pot meals, which as many working families know, is a blessing if you are trying to put together a quick dinner.
When we were living on Long Island, I would spend a good portion of every Sunday afternoon cooking for the kids (and us) to make sure there were at least a couple of decent meals I could simply warm up in the oven during the week. As a full-time working mother, I often wouldn’t be home until 6 p.m. and Lynn (when he was lucky) wouldn’t be home until nearly 7:30 p.m. In other words, I needed all the ready-to-go meal help I could get!
Over the years, I had developed a few simple meals that I would make repeatedly. Chili, roast chicken, meat sauce for pasta, and schnitzel. I was able to rotate these simple dishes for quite a few years until the kids grew up. Luckily for me, they both got after school jobs at an early age and often just ate whatever they could grab on the run.
I had learned to cook at an early age. I was not even a teen (12 to be precise) when cooking was an activity I really enjoyed. Even back then I could be trusted to put together some sort of chicken or pork dish in a mushroom cream sauce, make crepes (sweet and savory) and even dessert (usually cookies or a cake). Living in Munich, Germany, also had a lot to do with it. I wasn’t into sports, television didn’t come on until after 6 p.m., and there are only so many books a young girl could read!
To set myself up for this weekend challenge I decided I would try to follow the recipes exactly as they were written. This was a bit difficult for me because as I read through some of them, I knew not only was there a better way to do it, but sometimes even a better ingredient could have been included in the dish. Plus, since I’ve been cooking so long (over 46 years at this point – gulp!), I only follow a recipe when I have to bake.
First Dish – Shrimp Scampi With Orzo
I always have a bag of frozen shrimp in my freezer. This may have something to do with me always hoping for “unexpected” guests and being able to whip up some sort of shrimp dish in a hurry if I have to. The fact that I’ve never once in my entire life had an “unexpected” guest visit anyplace I’ve lived is irrelevant. Therefore, since I had the shrimp already, the only thing I would need to purchase for this first dish was a box of orzo. Everything else was already in my pantry, too.
I cleaned the shrimp and cooked the orzo. Luckily the night before I had watched a Jamie Olivier cooking show where he added raw shrimp to a dish of pasta he was cooking. I usually like to cook shrimp before I add it to any other ingredient that’s already cooked. The fact that he was so nonchalant about adding raw shrimp to the pasta gave me the courage I needed to do the recipe exactly as written.
The orzo cooked up very quickly as did the shrimp. When it was done, I thought there was a bit too much liquid. Yes, there was lots of parsley and white wine which I love but I found even the spritz of lemon at the end was overwhelming. I’ve made my own version of this dish in the past, adding some roasted tomatoes and chunks of feta which gives it the creaminess I think this dish was lacking. Here’s a picture of The New York Times version, followed by mine.
Second Dish – Cheesy Baked Pasta with Radicchio
The next night I put together a baked pasta with radicchio that I had seen in Food & Wine. The challenge here was two-fold. First, where the hell was I going to find radicchio in upstate New York without driving an hour east to a Whole Foods or an hour west to Wegmans?
Luckily, a 10 minute drive to the over-priced Hannaford supermarket in the next town proved they could sometimes surprise you. They did in fact carry radicchio and low and behold they actually had three whole heads for a mere $4.99 a pound! (Note the sarcasm here, please.)
I picked up the radicchio that looked the least wilted and was actually bizarrely happy that I found it so close to home. I mean really, look at the color of this vegetable! Yep, I did play around with this image courtesy of Instagram but it shows the layers really well this way.
The supermarket also had prosciutto on sale which was a plus since I needed it for the dish, too. I sauteed the red onions, sliced the radicchio into ribbons as instructed and added the garlic and red wine vinegar. I cooked the pasta and then poured it into a buttered baking dish. Normally, I don’t like any pasta (other than lasagna) that’s baked, particularly macaroni and cheese. I could never understand why cooks insist on putting a breadcrumb topping on such a classic American dish. To me, the whole point of mac and cheese is to eat creamy mac and cheese not breadcrumb-dry mac and cheese. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I mixed together the goat cheese but substituted gouda for the fontina cheese because fontina was nowhere to be found. I also omitted the nutmeg because I simply don’t like nutmeg. As I made my way through the steps of this dish, I thought cooking all of these ingredients separately was just WAY TOO TIME CONSUMING. I thought about how quickly I can usually put together a simple cheese and veggie pasta dish (which is basically what this dish consisted of). Had I not been doing this “cooking exercise,” I don’t think I would have baked this dish either.
Was it cheesy? Yes and it actually tasted better the second day because all the flavors had time to sit and simply blend together.
Here’s a picture of Food & Wine’s version, followed by mine.
Besides the pasta that day I also whipped together a “simple crusty bread” recipe that I hadn’t made in years. Originally, I thought it was the same recipe my Dad uses when he makes bread but alas, I was incorrect. This New York Times recipe got a ton of press when it came out in 2007 because it had four simple ingredients (yeast, kosher salt, water and all-purpose flour) that you just mix together. How could you go wrong?
As I was trying to maneuver the dough into the pan I was using, I remembered why I hated this recipe. The dough was so wet it was physically impossible to pick up! Plus, more than one-quarter of it kept sticking to my fingers, my hands and the countertop. Also, I really like kneading dough and this recipe omits that step.
The dough did rise however and I took it out of the oven when I “thought” it was done. Looking back it should have cooked about 10 more minutes to get a crispier crust and not have such a dense interior.
Meanwhile back on the farm (just kidding), it was really cold outside. So cold in fact that there were these really long icicles that were hanging off the roof of the house! In addition to the cold, the wind was howling outside, truly sounding like a freight train. When we woke up in the morning (after getting a nice glimpse of a crescent moon and Venus the night before), I opened the fridge and almost everything was frozen! What had happened overnight?
The only thing I can figure out is that the fridge is right next to a window and perhaps the cold air just kept blowing into that area all evening? This meant that the potatoes I had bought to make that night’s adventure in cooking dish had frozen, too! I tried to salvage some of them but just found myself getting angry that I had spent money on food I then couldn’t eat.
Want to see the icicles?
Third Dish – Salmon With Potatoes and Horseradish-Tarragon Sauce
At one point I owned Chef George Lang’s cookbook “The Cuisine of Hungary” but alas I think I lost it in the last move! That said, the fact that this was his recipe intrigued me especially since 1) I love salmon, 2) I love horseradish and 3) I love sour cream! (After all my great-grandmother was from Hungary.)
I sliced the few potatoes that didn’t have “frost bite” as paper thin as I could without the aid of a mandoline. (I’m terrified of mandolines.) I put them in a baking dish as instructed and added some shallots. This is what they looked like after cooking for about 20 minutes.
Then I mixed together some sour cream, tarragon and horseradish. I was supposed to “brush” the sauce on top of the salmon that would then be placed on top of the potatoes. When I did this, however, the sauce ended up looking like frosting and even after the salmon had cooked, it still looked that way! Which was really kind of weird.
See what I mean?
The salmon was very moist prepared this way though and I loved the sauce and the potatoes. Bottom line: I would make this dish again.
Fourth Dish – Dijon Chicken With Shallots and White Wine
Holy Moly. This recipe called for 12-15 medium shallots! I had bought six, used one for the above-mentioned salmon dish which meant I had five left. I thought five would be more than enough, after all these were kind of big anyway.
I melted some butter in a frying pan and sauteed the chicken as instructed. First problem was that the chicken thighs didn’t get as brown as I thought they should. Since I didn’t want to “cheat” by putting them in the oven (which would have given them the brown color I was looking for), I just left them on the stove and added the rest of the ingredients.
This recipe had a lot of wine, almost too much I thought. Ditto for the tomatoes. But the sauce, when it reduced, was really good and ultimately even though the bread didn’t turn out as planned, I grilled up a couple of slices and we ate it with the chicken. If I make this dish again though, it’s definitely going in the oven!
Ultimately, I liked making all of these dishes. It was actually kind of fun to pretend not to know how to cook and follow a recipe pretty much exactly. I do think, however, they might have been too difficult for your average person who doesn’t know their way around a kitchen or even how to shop for some of the ingredients. Luckily for me, this adventure was motivated by the cold weather outside and me wanting to stay inside. After all, we only turn the TV on at night and there really is only so much even this “older” girl can read.
Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.
Since Lynn retired from MoMA we don’t visit as many museums as we had in the past. However, now that we live in Central New York, it’s much more convenient to get to places in Massachusetts and Vermont than when we lived on Long Island. Case in point a few weekends ago we decided to have a short overnight road trip to Wiliamstown, MA. We had never been to see The Clark Art Institute in Williamstown and if we had been to Mass MoCA in nearby North Adams, MA, we didn’t remember it.
The morning of our departure, we woke up to an ice storm that made even venturing out of the house difficult (slippery stairs and a car coated in a sheet of ice).
This gave us a later start than we wanted but eventually, after scraping off the ice and navigating some pretty slippery roads, we were on our way.
The Clark Art Institute
I didn’t expect the building to be modern nor the campus (140 acres) to be so large. Besides the museum itself there is a research center and some hiking trails. We were there specifically to see “Travels on Paper” since we are active travelers and like to see where others have been.
Had I paid more attention to the literature on their website I would have realized it was not a contemporary show but rather artists from the late 1770’s to 1880’s! Not wanting to discredit early attempts at photography or charcoal drawings, I was impressed by how difficult it was for people to travel back then. Often getting to such exotic places (Africa, Hawaii, Egypt, Italy) before decent means of transportation was not only lengthy but arduous and often dangerous.
I found myself focusing on the photographs or drawings of places I had been primarily because I was interested in what certain landscapes looked like 100+ years prior to when we had been there. Hence, this charming watercolor of the famous cliffs of Étretat in Normandy by French artist Eugène Edouard Soulès.
Since Lynn and I had been to see the cliffs and the Normandy beaches with our children one year (2003), I was delighted to see that the artist not only had a blue sky, but also a blue ocean view that day! I suppose he could have fudged a little; maybe it had been a gray day then, too, but isn’t it lovely the artist painted these scenes in various shades of blue?
This was our view that day:
A pink and gray sky with some moss-covered gray rocks and gray water. It was perfect.
Even the title of the show, “Travels on Paper” made me think of all the traveling we have done together. And most importantly, how we capture the trip both photographically and often with the written word in blogs such as this one.
As we walked through the show, I found myself repeatedly captivated by places that somehow looked familiar. Had we been there? Or was it a place that looked similar to other sites we had seen.
I loved this watercolor by a British artist I had never heard of, William Gawin Herdman (1805-1882). The piece is titled “Fantasy Archway with Strolling Couple.”
The arch looks almost like a stage set, a prop. Where does the arch lead to? What do the couple see on the other side besides the trees in the distance? The closest I came in my many travels of seeing a similar-looking arch was in Les Baux, in the Provence region of France.
I remember walking around Les Baux one very hot summer day overwhelmed by both the ruins and the heat. Truthfully, I would have preferred to be the woman in the painting, strolling leisurely through the archway, holding the arm of my beloved, even with the long dress!
MASS MoCA
From The Clark we stopped for a bite to eat at a local restaurant then headed into North Adams to visit MASS MoCA. We thought we had been there before but truthfully didn’t remember the building perhaps confusing the venue with Dia Beacon on the Hudson River. I was impressed with the use of the old factory buildings and wish in the town I live in now (on the Mohawk River) that some of the similar-looking factory buildings could be converted to art spaces, too.
Rainy, gray days are perfect for visiting art museums. I love walking through gallery spaces, looking at the often vibrant art on the wall only to peer outside and watch the rain fall or the wind blow things around. There were also old passageways the museum had retained when designing the space that led from one building to another.
One of its first tenants was a company called Arnold Print Works, a manufacturer of printed textiles. The floors we walked on and the big rooms that now house art held large scale equipment back then. We were often reminded of the people who truly labored here. After all it was a factory and accidents often happened with sometimes grave consequences.
We had come specifically to MASS MoCA to see the Annie Lennox show, “Now I Let You Go…” If you are not familiar with Annie Lennox, she is the Scottish singer-songwriter of Eurythmics fame. But first we wandered through some of the galleries. Here are some Sol LeWitt pieces which I’m fond of not only for the use of his bright crayon-like color palette but his geometric forms.
Then we walked into a large hall and got to look at the amazing sculptures of South African artist Ledelle Moe. Her large forms were so engaging and life-like (even in their reclining mode) that even though I know you are NOT SUPPOSED TO TOUCH THE ARTWORK, I struggled to keep my hands in my coat pockets. I wanted to not only feel the forms but run my hands over these figures in hopes of emotionally capturing the incredible strength of her work.
Her work in this exhibit entitled “When” reminded me of the countless monuments we would see not only when we traveled through Europe, but statues with water features we discovered closer to home. This funny looking guy is from a visit last summer to the Sonnenberg Gardens and Mansion in Canandaigua, NY.
And then I saw the heads. They were just hanging on a wall, similar to death masks and looked to be randomly placed. I’m sure the artist wouldn’t welcome my thoughts on “random placement” but I liked this evocative piece immensely.
I thought of our own meager “head” collection at home. Simple clay or wood faces we had picked up along the way when traveling through Italy.
Then there was Jenny Holzer. Lynn was familiar with her work from MoMA but I was not. I found myself mesmerized by her repetitive texts in various languages. Particularly when she writes that “change is the basis of all history.” I love that line. Along with “stale food is repellent” which speaks to my love of cooking.
When we finally got to the Annie Lennox show, I had to walk around it a few times. First to really understand it. The obviously easy part was looking at the “trophy room” filled with awards and copies of her platinum and gold albums.
The more intellectually challenging component was to understand her “mountain” of collective things. There, assembled on what looked like a mixture of sand and gravel, were important pieces from not only her childhood but her children’s too.
The fact that the title of the show “Now I Let You Go” references our inability as humans to discard “things” that often have emotional significance wasn’t lost on me. Lynn and I have moved six times since 1985. Each time we have moved we have managed to throw a bit more away of our “significant things,” thereby reducing our clutter. Except a few boxes that are in the attic right now – our son’s Hess trucks, his wooden train set, our daughter’s favorite stuffed animals plus the dress she wore for her first Christmas. I haven’t been able to “let go” of their childhood just yet even though they are now both adults.
Case in point: how could we ever throw away this note our daughter scribbled on hotel stationery when we were traveling in Florence one summer? The answer is, you can’t.
