Pandemonium on the Patio

It's as effective as an alarm clock: early every morning I am awakened by a cacophony of bird song right outside my bedroom window. High-pitched and shrill, and way too happy for the hour, the birds are already in full working mode, darting back and forth all the while chirping at each other with earnestness and purpose.

They're back. Late April every year dozens of common house finches take over the back yard, and every year a nesting pair sets up household on the patio. I'm convinced it's the same pair because after several days of exploring all the nooks and crannies, they inevitably return to their favorite spot -- the top ledge of the outdoor speakers in the corner.

I've been watching for the past week as they built their nest with small twigs and a wad of fluff for cushioning. At the kitchen window I keep my binoculars at the ready and follow the busyness throughout the day. Building the nest has been a two-bird job, both male and female adding small sticks and tucking them one by one into the framework. But the nest is now complete, and their shared construction job has given way to new roles. The female has taken over the nest, while the male visits often, staying just long enough to evaluate the situation then dart off again to do who knows what.

The female spends a great deal of time chirping out towards the yard seemingly to no one in particular, although when I listen carefully I can detect her mate's response. What is she saying? Is she going over the shopping list for her guy? Calling for room service?

Other times, she sits quietly without moving a feather for long periods of time. Is she contemplating motherhood?

My own activity in the kitchen annoys her. When I do dishes in the sink or open the window, she sits up higher in the nest, readying herself for flight. But it's when I open the patio door that she reaches her limit of patience, flying off and leaving the nest unprotected (although I'm sure she's watching my every move from a nearby tree). I wish she understood that I'm not a predator. As soon as the eggs are laid, both parents will have to fend off blue jays looking for easy pickings. I always dread finding a small crushed egg on the patio, knowing that a jay has finally scored a tasty meal.

By mid-May, a new set of voices will be added to the mix as the chicks hatch and start their endless demand for food. Both mother and father will spend every daylight hour foraging for their youngsters.

And then, almost as quickly as it all started, it will be over. The chicks will fledge and abandon the nest along with their parents. The patio will get quiet again, and I will be able to re-claim my lounge chair where I can read the newspaper in peace without disturbing my little avian family. But I will miss the cacophony -- even at the crack of dawn -- and the dedicated purpose with which nature's creatures live their lives.

Blossoms

Early this morning I took my tea out to the garden to have a look. The grass was dewy, the light was soft, and the sweet fragrance in the air was exhilarating. It seemed like everything was in bloom -- the fruit trees, the citrus trees, the roses, and the wisteria covering the pergola and the arbor. Not much to say here except admire the beauty.

 Beverly Hills Apple: deep pink buds open to reveal pale pink petals.

Blood Orange: creamy white from bud to blossom.

Meyer Lemon: fuscia buds open to white petals.

Wisteria: deep purple from bud to blossom in grape-like clusters.

Margaret Merril: a beautiful old-fashioned peachy-white floribunda rose with a 

luscious fragrance that blooms all season long.

Comfort Food, Part Deux: Chicken & Dumplings

The girls were planning another midweek get-together, something we'd all looked forward to before our pal Katrina returns to England. Since the weather forecast was for wind and some late season rain and I was in the mood -- again -- for comfort food, I volunteered to bring the main course: savory chicken and dumplings. I had made this dish a few times before, but had always served it straight from the stove, right after the dumplings were done. I wasn't sure how to the timing would work after pre-cooking it at home, cooling the pot before lugging it to a friend's house, then waiting for cocktails to be consumed before re-heating and serving to the ladies. I found out.

 After the chicken is browned, add the vegetables and herbs.

This is a very fragrant dish to cook. My kitchen was redolent with rosemary and thyme, freshly plucked from the garden. It started out beautifully: nicely browned chicken and colorful vegetables, but by the time it was served (almost 4 hours later), it had become a colorless blob. A couple of the ladies volunteered that they had never eaten chicken and dumplings before ("It's a Southern dish, isn't it?") and I hope they will not judge the dish by the way it was looked last night.

Here's the process. I've divided the ingredients into groups, according to each step.

Chicken & Dumplings

6-8 chicken thighs, boneless and skinless
2-3 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh black pepper
1 teaspoon paprika

1 large onion, chopped
2 large carrots, chopped or 1+ cups packaged baby carrots
3 stalks celery, chopped
3 large cloves garlic, chop fine
1 Tablespoon fresh parsley, minced
2 Tablespoons fresh thyme, minced
3 Tablespoons fresh rosemary, minced

1 cup dry white wine
2 cups chicken stock

Heat the oil until very hot, but not smoking, in a large stockpot -- wide, not deep. Toss the chicken pieces together in a plastic bag with the flour, salt and pepper, and paprika until the chicken is well coated. Place the thighs in the hot oil and brown on both sides. If the pot won't hold all the chicken pieces at one time, brown them in batches, setting aside the finished pieces while you add new pieces. Add the onions, carrots, celery, garlic and herbs and cook for about 10-12 minutes until the onions become translucent. Add the wine and stock and bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for about an hour until the chicken is tender.

Meanwhile, make the dumplings.

1/4 cup shortening (like Crisco)
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal (keeps the dumplings from getting too doughy)
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons baking powder
2 Tablespoons fresh parsley, minced
3/4 cup milk

Mix the dry ingredients together with the parsley in a large bowl. Cut in the shortening. Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and add the milk. Mix lightly until the milk is incorporated. No need to handle the dough and roll into little balls. Just use a teaspoon, and drop 1-inch globs of dough on top of the simmering chicken. Cover and cook 10 minutes until the dumplings have expanded and become fluffy. Do not stir and do not lift the lid: the dumplings need the steam to cook properly.

This served the five of us, with plenty of leftovers.

 Dumplings steaming in the pot with the cooked chicken.

While some cooks like to pull apart the cooked chicken into lots of smaller bite-sized pieces, I like to keep the chicken thighs whole. That way, the rich brown coating adds to the visual appeal. I also think that one dumpling per serving is sufficient and looks better than a bowlful of dumplings hiding the chicken and veggies underneath.

In the end, my lovely chicken and dumplings were woefully overcooked by the time we tucked into dinner. I'd be the last one to end any cocktail hour prematurely, but if we'd eaten an hour earlier, I think this time-honored Southern staple would've been better received.

P.S. The wine, asparagus, salad and dessert were great!

Beef Tenderloin

I have a confession to make: I have slighted a friend and I need to come clean.

A dear pal visited me from the East Coast recently. It was a visit that we each had anticipated for a long time, and I put a fair amount of effort into planning an itinerary of things to do and see, and where and what we would eat for dinner. I tried to imagine what she would enjoy most and so our days were filled with a variety of activities. We toured the Ojai Olive Oil Ranch and tasted some marvelous oils and vinegars, and purchased some beautiful soaps and creams. I drove her around our interesting neighborhoods, and spent some time taking in the panoramic views of the Ojai Valley from several vista points. We shopped in the downtown boutiques and looked at some of the beautiful private schools here. We saw a couple of good films. We visited two amazing spas and the magnificent chapel and library at St. Thomas Aquinas College. We shopped at the Farmers' Market and ate at several local restaurants. And every night we made a batch of Blood Orange martinis (which I will share in an upcoming post).

So what went wrong? Well, I tried to plan some good meals at home so we wouldn't have to be in restaurants every night, so before she arrived I cooked some main dishes and put them in the freezer, ready to be reheated whenever we wanted. You'd think it must have been cold and dreary when I started my cooking binge, but it wasn't. The weather was warm and sunny, but I was in the mood for comfort food. I made a ton of chicken and dumplings and we feasted on that for a couple of nights. Thank goodness we both liked it. And I also made a large meatloaf, following the recipe I posted here on March  10. I paired it with mashed potatoes, a salad, and a decent Cabernet. Not bad at all for meatloaf, and, like the chicken and dumplings, we ate meatloaf for a couple of nights, too. But by now I was getting decidedly uncomfortable with the avalanche of comfort food (pun intended).

By the time she left California, I was hankering to cook something more elegant. This weekend, I picked up a beef tenderloin and made myself a lovely dinner, but felt guilty with every bite that Karen hadn't been treated as well. I promise I'll make it for her when she returns.

Beef Tenderloin

1 2-3 pound center cut beef tenderloin, trimmed and tied, at room temperature
1 teaspoon each coarse ground pepper and salt
2 gloves garlic, finely chopped
5-6 rosemary sprigs, about 4 inches long
3 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Heat the oven to 350, and put the oven rack in the middle position.

Pat the tenderloin dry. Coat all sides with salt, pepper and garlic. Tuck the rosemary sprigs under the strings on all sides. Heat the olive oil over high heat until hot but not smoking. Brown the tenderloin on all sides, about 10 minutes total.

Transfer the browned tenderloin to an oven rack fitted over a shallow roasting pan and roast until a meat thermometer inserted 2 inches diagonally into the the center of the meat reaches 120 degrees, about 25-30 minutes. Remove the meat from the oven and transfer to a cutting board and let stand for 15 minutes. The temperature of the meat will rise to 130 degrees. Discard the string and rosemary before slicing.

I served the tenderloin with a simple green salad dressed with balsamic vinegar, oil, garlic and mustard, and a nice Ghost Pines Cabernet from Northern California. A dollop of whole grain mustard from Napa Valley gave the meat a nice zesty accompaniment.

Comfort Food: Meatloaf Done Right

In Ojai, the churches take turns hosting the Family Shelter, providing a good meal and overnight shelter to those without adequate housing. Nightly hot meals, showers and a clean sleeping space, followed by breakfast the next morning, are provided by volunteers from December through March, and this week my church recruited its members to do some cooking. The menu was already set: meatloaf, green beans, mashed potatoes with gravy, rolls and butter, and chocolate cake. It had also already been decreed that everything but the meatloaf would be purchased in bulk from Costco, including instant mashed potatoes and gravy that needed only water added to bring it to life.

Since it's pretty much against my religion to eat canned green beans, or powdered mashed potatoes and gravy, I volunteered to make a meatloaf. I think meat loaf is a wonderful comfort food, bringing back memories of simple suppers around the family table, the house redolent with the smell of it baking in the oven.

But I also have grim memories of my mother lifting that same meatloaf out of the oven in a loaf pan, swimming in a pool of its own juices and fat. Depending on the grade of ground beef used, she could easily drain off close to a cup of greasy stuff, leaving the meatloaf tough and dry.

I knew there must be a better way, and I found it on Cook's Illustrated. In their test kitchen, they found that by baking the meatloaf on a rack over a rimmed baking sheet, all the juices flow away from the loaf, leaving it moist and grease-free.

I've tried this recipe a couple of times, and while it takes quite a bit longer to assemble than the way I was taught, the results are worth it.

Glazed Meatloaf

3 ounces Monterey Jack cheese, grated on small holes of a box grater, or in a grattoir
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 medium onion, chopped fine (about 1 cup)
1 celery rib, chopped fine (about 1/2 cup)
1 garlic clove, minced
2 teaspoons minced fresh thyme, or 1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon paprika (I used smoked paprika)
1/4 cup tomato juice
1/2 cup chicken broth
2 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon unflavored gelatin (Knox)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
2/3 cup crushed saltines
2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley leaves
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 pounds lean ground beef (85% lean)

Heat oven to 375. Place oven rack in the middle position. Spread grated cheese on a plate and place in the freezer until ready to use. Prepared baking sheet by cutting heavy duty foil into a 10" x 6" rectangle, and with a metal skewer, poke holes in the foil about 1/2 inch apart. Place pierced foil on a cooling rack fitted into a rimmed baking sheet and spray with non-cooking spray.

Here is the meatloaf hot out of the oven. It was cooked on top of a rectangle of foil 

(pierced with multiple holes for draining and sprayed with Pam) 

which has been positioned on a cooling rack which in turn is placed in a rimmed baking sheet.

Melt butter in a 10-inch skillet over medium-high heat until foaming. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally until beginning to brown, about 7 minutes. Add garlic, thyme and paprika and cook, stirring until fragrant, about a minute. Reduce heat to low and add the tomato juice. Cook, stirring to scrape up any browned bits from the pan, until thickened, about 1 minute. Set aside to cool.

Whisk the broth and eggs in a large bowl until combined. Sprinkle gelatin over liquid and let stand about 5 minutes. Stir in soy sauce, mustard, saltines, parsley, salt, pepper and the onion mixture. Crumble the frozen cheese into coarse powder (no lumps!) and sprinkle over the mixture. Add the ground beef and mix gently with your hands (I wear clean rubber gloves) until thoroughly combined, about 1 minute. Transfer meat to the foil rectangle and shape into a 10 x 6 oval about 2 inches high. Smooth top and sides with a moistened rubber spatula. Bake at 375 for 55-65 minutes. Remove from oven and turn on the broiler.

While the meatloaf is cooking, make the glaze:

1/2 cup ketchup
1 teaspoon hot pepper sauce
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 cup cider vinegar
3 tablespoons packed brown sugar

Combine all five ingredients in a small saucepan. Bring to a simmer and cook, stirring, until thick and syrupy, about 5 minutes. Spread half of the glaze evenly over the cooked meatloaf, using a rubber spatula or the back of a spoon. Place the meatloaf under the broiler until the glaze bubbles and begins to brown, about 5 minutes. Remove meatloaf from the oven and spread evenly with the remaining glaze. Place back under the broiler and cook until glaze is again bubbly and beginning to brown, about 5 minutes more. Let meatloaf cool about 20 minutes before slicing.

French Bread with Garlic-Herb Butter

When I was asked recently to bring some garlic bread to a potluck dinner, I fell immediately back into an old pattern of making a really simple assignment complicated.

I started thinking about a recipe that I’d gotten many years ago from my ex-mother-in-law. She was a marvelous cook, and in an effort to help her rookie-in-the-kitchen daughter-in-law, she gave me a little cookbook, marked up with her tips and advice. The cookbook, entitled “Hummingbirds and Radishes,” was the 1953 edition of the Kenilworth Center of the Infant Welfare Society of Chicago, and had been her go-to resource ever since it was first published. There are about 200 recipes -- some complicated, some very simple -- in this collection, and she had earmarked her favorites.

On page 109, she bookmarked French Bread with Herb Butter, and it’s worth quoting:

There are times when nothing but garlic bread will do – with the meaty casseroles or with any of the Italian things. But for more delicately flavored combinations we prefer our French bread done with herb butter. The possibilities are limited only by the scope of your herb garden or condiment shelf. Here’s one favorite combination. Try this on little three-decker tea sandwiches.

1½ sticks of butter

1 Tablespoon parsley, finely chopped

1 Tablespoon chopped chives or scallions

1 Tablespoon chopped sweet basil

½ Teaspoon lemon juice

1 dash Tabasco sauce

Soften the butter and mix in the herbs and liquids. Slice the bread and butter each slice before heating and serving.

I’ve used this simple recipe many times over the years, and I always get compliments. When I’m feeling very organized, I double the recipe, prepare the bread and freeze the leftovers in small globs to use on vegetables. For the potluck, which had an Italian theme, I mixed in some minced fresh garlic with the herbs and slathered it on a French baguette, and it was very tasty.

But I have never, ever, made tea sandwiches with it, and probably never will even though women must have done that often in 1953. Not this gal.

Jalapeno Poppers

I’ve been pretty much grounded since my surgery, limiting my activity to things like light housework, gentle exercise and way too much staying at home. But I’ve finally started physical therapy and I can feel my energy level coming back. And just in time, because last night was Girls’ Night Out and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

The occasion was to visit with a gal-pal who was here from England, so we gathered at the home of mutual friends, each of us bringing something for the meal: salad, garlic bread, pasta with meat sauce, wine and a marvelous orange butter cream cake. All of it was delicious (my appetite is coming back too!), but perhaps the surprise hit of the evening was the appetizer that Helen provided. First, she apologized for having forgotten to add an ingredient (the Parmesan cheese), but after sampling several of them, we all agreed that the final dish was just perfect as it was. We gobbled them up, those not-spicy-at-all jalapenos, and probably would have happily devoured a second platter had we not been called to the table for our feast.

The food and wine was just right and we ooh’ed and ah’ed over every dish and every bottle of wine we opened. The conversation was lively and went on far longer than our hosts probably wanted, but this was a celebration after all. It was a celebration of friendships that have endured and thrived over the years and over the miles.

At the end of the evening, we vowed to do this again and I volunteered my house for the next gathering. I know what I’m going to ask Helen to bring.

Jalapeno Poppers

1 pound lean bulk pork sausage

1 8-ounce package cream cheese, softened

1 cup Parmesan cheese

24 jalapeno chile peppers, about 3 inches long

 Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Stir-fry the sausage in a skillet over medium high-heat until it is crumbly and evenly browned. Drain off the rendered fat and place the meat in a medium bowl. Mix with the softened cream cheese and Parmesan cheese (if you remember to add it).

Working in a clean sink or basin half-filled with water, and wearing clean rubber gloves, hold the peppers under water and remove the stems and cut in half lengthwise. This keeps the pepper fumes from getting on your skin and into your nose. Remove the seeds with a spoon or melon baller and discard. Do not touch your face or eyes with the gloves! Stuff each pepper half with the sausage-cream cheese-Parmesan mixture, and arrange in a large shallow baking pan. Bake about 20 minutes until the peppers have softened and the filling starts to bubble. Remove the poppers to a serving dish and serve hot.

Adding shredded Parmesan cheese to the sausage-cream cheese mixture probably gives the poppers a richer flavor but won’t be missed if you don’t. Another added fillip is to wrap each stuffed popper with half a slice of bacon that you’ve partially cooked in the microwave until soft, then securing the bacon with a toothpick before you finish them off in the oven. Personally, I think either addition is just gilding the lily, but it’s fun to experiment.

Makes 48 appetizers.