A while ago, my husband’s grandmother (Bubbie) shared with us some of her Le Creuset pots. We accepted the pots without hesitation as we only had one that we got as a wedding gift, they’re super expensive when new, and we love using ours. When Sophia started eating solids, I made them almost always in one of Bubbie’s pots as it was one of the smallest ones we had. At first, it was just a happy coincidence that I needed a smaller pot and now it has become a happy tradition. A happy yellow pot that Sophia will grow up to love and cherish as it will mean homemade, warm and comforting meals. Today’s menu: peach and summer corn soup.
As Sophia is still too little to really enable us to travel to far and exotic destinations, but a vacation was an absolute must, we decided to have a stay-cation. That is, we planned not to go anywhere (far) and enjoyed just being out and about locally. My parents offered for us to come up so that they could babysit in the evenings and we could go out and catch up with friends. We accepted without hesitation. The Friday before we left, I got an email that my local farm opened with pick-your-own strawberries and tart cherries. I happily ran over to pick some for the road and as a hostess gift for my parents. Ten pounds of strawberries later (with obvious signs of heat exhaustion not to mention sunburn, I opted for the pre-picked tart cherries).
Tart cherries hold a special place in my heart. My mother’s mother had a beautiful fruit and vegetable garden. Aside from apples, pears, apricots, peaches, strawberries, red and black currants, rhubarb, gooseberries, and rasberries, she also grew tart cherries. Tart cherry season meant one thing when I was little: Tart Cherry Vareniki. Hot out of the water, tart, sweet, oozing with syrup — there are very few dishes that are better in the early summer. We used to pick them ourselves, gallons of cherries, their red juice squirting everywhere in our little hands. They were probably a little worse for the wear and fewer in numbers by the time they got to the house when we picked them as kids, but that made them perfect for varenniki.
Anyway, apparently tart cherries aren’t as available here. In fact, I’ve only seen them at farmer’s markets in Philadelphia and at the local farm. We’ve begged my mom to make the varenniki with them for years and even used hubby as a ploy. My sister, her husband, my dad and I would say “Come on mom, E. hasn’t had these, EVER…. don’t you want to show off your culinary prowess with dumplings?” She would always say “Get me real tart cherries, come help and I will do it”. Well, the day had finally come. Too hot, tired and dirty from a very wet strawberry field, I picked up two quarts of cherries and ran quickly to my car as if the cashier at the farm was going to demand her cherries back. To excited, I called my mom and told her of my acquisition. She was in disbelief and probably slightly disgruntled but very much up to the challenge. So, in true multi-cultural fashion, we decided to make them for Memorial Day to supplement the remainder of our pretty typical BBQ menu. Since I acquired the cherries and essentially was the cause of this, I volunteered to pit the cherries. Two hours later (my mother was so sure she would NEVER make these here in the States that she does not own a cherry pitter), I was done albeit already ready to be done with cooking. I helped make the dough and learned how to form them. You’ll see in the pictures that mine are the much uglier and misshapen and my mom’s are beautiful and uniform. Nonetheless, they were D-E-L-I-C-I-O-U-S and hubby declared that they were amazing and worth waiting for. All in all, not too difficult to make, but they disappear into hungry bellies much faster than it takes to make them. I’ll make them again, and again and always remember my childhood summer memories as I cook them. When she is older, I’ll tell Sophia the stories of my childhood over a plate of varenniki.
As I sit down in a Chinese restaurant and start to look over the usually large and comprehensive menu, my eyes are immedeately drawn to the “Chef’s Sauce” or the “Chef’s Special Sauce” items. Usually, different proteins are offered in the special sauce that I suppose is meant to be the specialty of the house. That magic sauce is often what draws people to a restaurant, although I must confess that I rarely every order anything in the special sauce.
At home, in my mother’s kitchen, there are many things that are the house specialties I crave and for which I come home for. It has become a tradition that when my parents expect us for a visit, they call and ask what we’d like to eat. Usually, I don’t make many requests because as I put it “beggars aren’t choosers” and everything is typically delicious. However, on occasion when we’ve stayed away long or when I crave comfort, I request “Sous“. In Russian, it simply means “sauce”, but it is much more than that. It is a dish onto itself, a complete meal that leaves me stuffed to the brims with content and happiness. To this day, I do not know if whether I love “Sous” because of the dish or because my mom made it.
What is it? you may ask. Well, if you remember, I spent the first nine years of my life in Baku, Azerbaijan. There, my mother learned local specialties and among them is a dish they call “Sous”. The dish is essentially a summer-time chicken stew with eggplants, tomatoes, and red peppers. Through the modern miracle (or plague) of hothouses and refrigeration, we now make it year-round. It is a one-pot wonder which is easy to assemble and cook. The flavors are delicate, and the chicken and vegetables are succulent. I’ve gotten the recipe and tried to cook it on my own, but even though delicious, it does not compare to the genuine article.
My sister, her husband and my adorable nephew came to visit us this past weekend. They planned to take in the museums and sights of D.C. and we provided the perfect lodging facility complete with a MAP dining plan. Their plan was to arrive late Thursday, wake up Friday and take the Spy Museum by force. Saturday, they visited the National Museum of American History and the brand spankin’ new National Air and Space Museum Udvar Hazy Center was on tap for Sunday. Although some may find the thought of entertaining guests with a 6 month old at home daunting, I was up for the challenge. I promised myself that not only that I will succeed, but I will do so with grace. And so I did. Hubby and I enjoyed my sister and her family immencely and feel refreshed coming back to work. I planned simple, easy to make breakfasts and dinners. For example, Saturday’s breakfast was an easy, make-ahead Berry Bread Pudding while we enjoyed Buttermilk Pancakes for breakfast on Friday. Friday’s dinner (grilled veggies and meats) was transformed into Sunday’s brunch with the addition of an omlette expertly made by the hubby. All in all, this just shows that you don’t have to be daunted at the thought of having to entertain guests. It is all possible and even very much enjoyable if you plan right. I look forward to more hosting and entertaining especially since spring has sprung and we can grill, relax and lounge the outdoors for the brief few months before the D.C. humidity and heat drive everyone back inside.
Lazy, weekend mornings in the late Fall or early Spring are most memorable and relaxing when started the same way my family has done for as long as I can remember: with a baked potato and pickled herring breakfast.
Picked Herring and Baked Potato
Now I realize that some of my readers may find the idea, the combination and frankly, even the individual ingredients (herring) unappealing. You can’t knock it until you try it. Russians aren’t the only culture that enjoys picked everything including fish. Hubby and I quickly found that out when we visited Sweden on our honeymoon. Either way, I can’t quite decide if I like it because it is so delicious or if it is so delicious because with it, I associate Sunday mornings growing up. Regardless, my craving for pickled fish and/or family togetherness was dearly satisfied over the weekend.
Religion was very much in the background when I was growing up in the former Soviet Union. However, tradition was always at the forefront. I have great memories of delicious foods in the early Spring (which I now realize was for Passover) and getting money in the early Winter (which was for Hannukah). My parents and grandparents did not really elaborate on why we have certain traditions, but that we just do. So getting back to the food… my early Spring memories always center around chicken soup with matzo balls and gefilte fish. There were of course many other delicious dishes, but to me, Passover is not celebrated unless we feast on gefilte fish and chicken soup with matzo balls.
Traditions must be kept and passed on and this year we were treated to an amazing meal in lovely settings. My sister hosted our Seder dinner and cooked many delicious dishes including the mandatory chicken soup with picture perfect matzo balls.
Chicken Soup with Matzo Balls
My mom made her famous gefilte fish which by the way, is not bland, run of the mill, supermarket purchased, pale and unattractive.
Gefilte Fish
It is flavorful, handmade, and very, very, very delicious. Now that I sit back, read over the beginning of this post and reminisce about all the delicious foods we had on Friday, I only hope that I can too one day have enough courage to host such a beautiful Seder.
Finally, a big shout-out to my sister who is an amazing chef thanks to or perhaps despite being a working mom of a rambunctious eight year old. Ingredients turn into gold in her hands and she manages to host so effortlessly.
Spring is here and with it are unseasonably warm weather, spring flowers, greenery and locally grown produce. I am a huge fan of fast and fresh dinners and have many recipes that help me put a light and refreshing meal on the table in under 30 minutes. Quinoa with herbs is a healthy, low-carb, high protein side dish that I make in 15 minutes. I would typically call it Herbed Quinoa but my after happily chowing down on it today, my husband proclaimed “Don’t you use herb as a verb!.”
My husband and I bought our house last May when I was very pregnant. I spent the summer helping (supervising, really) updates to the inside. Meanwhile, many of our landscaping projects stood still. Now that spring is here, we have decided to make a significant effort on our front yard. Besides, I have grand plans to maintain a small vegetable garden from which our little girl will experience her many culinary firsts.
I must admit, while I love a beautiful yard and enjoy plucking a fresh tomato from a vegetable garden, I am not much of a gardener. I don’t enjoy playing with dirt and do not possess a green thumb. So if you cannot or do not want to take care of something, bring in someone who can and is willing.
We asked my parents for help and used our little five and a half month old daughter as ploy. The mission was “simple”: turn two ponds into flower beds and fence in a vegetable garden. While the dad and hubby were out excavating ponds and buying tons of soil and such at the local hardware store, I cooked away. The weekend menu took us to India and Asia. We started off with Chicken Tikka Masala for dinner on Friday.
The smell of sake and ginger permeated the kitchen on Friday night as the pork belly simmered.
Cucumber and Wakame Salad
The meal was satiating and satisfying — a welcome respite from a long day of work for everyone. Our feasting continued into lunch today when I sauteed some shiitake mushrooms with onions until golden, brown, delicious and oh so aromatic. I sandwiched the mushroom and onion mixture between two slices of rustic Italian bread and a healthy layer of shredded Gruyere. The sandwiches were grilled in a pan, weighted down with a spatula until golden, brown, and oozing with cheese.
Grilled Cheese
A crisp and tangy arugula salad with sherry vinaigrette was a perfect compliment cutting through the richness of the grilled cheese. Last, but not least and in my opinion never to be omitted, is desert! My mom was a champ and helped make peanut butter sandwich cookies with honey-cinnamon frosting.
Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies
I find it very difficult to resist a quick trip to the kitchen for a cookie. Mom always taught me not to spoil my apetite for dinner which is Shrimp in Thai Curry. I suppose I could have taken a picture of today’s dinner and posted everything tomorrow, but patience is a virtue I work towards. Besides, who knows, maybe one of my readers will be so impressed with the food that they too will volunteer to work for food.
When asked, most people will say that they very much enjoy eating out at restaurants. There are of course many reasons for this including the fact that you are served on, do not have to do the dishes, and the food tastes good (usually). A significant reason why restaurant food is sometimes (or more often than not) described as superior to home cooking is appearance. After all, we eat with our eyes first.
So today I am showing off some of my mom’s creations. There are few more welcoming sites (besides anything chocolate) than these which greeted us when we went home for a brief visit two weeks ago.
