I've been feeling a tad under the weather the past few days. So imagine my relief when Saturday morning, I lazily looked at the clock and and saw 9am. With their dad off racing his bike, the girls had kindly let their mending mom sleep in. The house was quiet. 

I sensed a presence by the bed. Looking to my left there was little Aili, but she didn't quite look like Aili. She was covered head to toe in a white thick cream, ghostlike. Oh God. It smelled like Desitin.

Turns out the girls had been up for a while, preparing for the day. Mistaking an old tube of Desitin for sunscreen, (Why with a 3 and 5 year old I still had that tube, I have no idea) Aili had judiciously smeared it all over her body, and that of her stuffed animals. Correctly realizing it is some pretty goopy stuff, she'd taken her blankets to try and rub it in (or off, I suppose). When the blankets didn't work, I can only guess she thought it best to try to dilute the paste with water, which might explain the phantom footprints glowing on the wool rug en route to the bathroom and the mess around the sink. Any restful benefit accrued by sleeping in evaporated instantly. I wish I could say the same for the Desitin.

After a few hours of rigorous scrubbing and multiple wash cycles, I needed a break. And because a glass of wine by myself at 10am is pushing it, I indulged myself in a parfait. A Lemon Strawberry Parfait. 

End flashback. Thankfully I'd remembered to throw away that dreaded tube of Creme de Derriere and the girls had been truly gracious this time.

I feel somewhat at odds with posting about a strawberry parfait in September, but we just happened to have eaten some gorgeous strawberries on our trip to Santa Cruz last week and it brought me back to the horrific hilarity of that Desitin Day. That, and I just love these photographs. Think of this final nod to strawberry season as my way of holding on to summer even while the days grow shorter. Soon enough will be time for soups and stews. 

{lemon strawberry parfait restores sanity}

Lemon Strawberry Parfait

2 cups greek yogurt

1/4 tsp lemon zest

2 cups fresh strawberries

a few sprigs of fresh mint

:: Core and quarter 2 cups of fresh strawberries and set aside in a small bowl

:: Mix 1/4 teaspoon lemon zest into 2 cups of plain greek yogurt

:: In a medium glass (I use our water glasses), layer strawberries and yogurt, beginning with strawberries, two layers each. 

:: Sprinkle with zest of lemon and top with a sprig of fresh mint

Makes 4 small parfaits

{lemon zest goes far. adjust as you like, depending on how much you want to flavor your yogurt}

{desitin carnage}

Here's to an abrupt end to six weeks of radio silence. Six weeks? How is that possible? What began as an unintended break soon became a much needed vacation. I marvel that in this stage of life "vacation" tends to be more action packed than our typical routine. No matter. The simple break from routine is what counts. August was a glorious month filled with abundant sun, good friends, perfect lake temperatures, countless bottles of wine and scrumptious fresh produce that we devoured faster than I could write. 

Vanilla Peach Pops

{sweet. juicy. summer}

I've been seeing watermelon featured in salads quite a bit lately and I'm always intrigued -- especially when the sweet melon is paired with something unexpected. One of our favorite local restaurants serves a Watermelon and Arugula Salad which I've tasted once. With its olives and onion it was both novel and delicious. But as refreshing as the salad sounds, their fabulous burger always wins out and well, let's face it, I don't have the metabolism of a 20 year old anymore and I have to set my limits.

So when fennel popped up in our CSA again this past week, I decided it just might warrant an experiment with watermelon. (Over the past two years anything involving fennel has been more or less an experiment with me). Thus was created Watermelon and Fennel Salad. The fennel and the mint are robust enough to deliciously co-exist with the salty feta and sweet watermelon. With so much flavor in the salad, a simple oil and vinegar dressing ties it all together. (I *love* salads that don't require a fancy dressing to taste complete). This may just make it to the top of a summer favorites list.

{this salad just uses shavings from the tender bulb of the fennel}

Yet another reason why I truly love participating in Community Supported Agriculture. Were that fennel not to have made its appearance this past week in my treasure box full of fresh veggies, I may not have discovered this easy and different summer salad. What's more, I'd be perpetually conflicted each time I sat down at The Lodge and debated departure from my beloved burger.

{melon + salty feta. winning combination}

Watermelon and Fennel Salad

5 cups cubed watermelon (approx 1/2 medium seedless watermelon)
1/2 cup shaved fennel (approx 1/2 large fennel bulb, shaved)
4oz sheeps milk feta
1 Tb chopped mint
2 Tb pomegranate or other fruit vinegar (substitute a light balsamic if necessary)
2 Tb good extra virgin olive oil
sprinkling of fresh lemon juice (about 1 tsp)

:: Wash and trim watermelon, cutting into 1 1/2 inch cubes. Set aside 5 cups of watermelon cubes in a large salad bowl.

:: Trim the leaves, stalks and base of the fennel and set aside. Wash the bulb well and cut in half. Using a vegetable peeler, "peel" the inside of one half of the bulb -- you'll end up with nice thin shavings of fennel. Sprinkle with lemon juice and set aside.

:: Cube the feta cheese into 1/2 inch pieces. Gently combine the feta and fennel with the watermelon. Chill in the refrigerator until ready to serve.

:: Just before serving, trim leaves from a few sprigs of fresh mint and chop (yield approx 1 Tb). Prepare the dressing by placing equal parts fruit vinegar and a good EVOO in a glass jar (I used 2 Tb of each) and shake to blend. Toss the salad with the mint and dressing.

Serves 4-6

{we picked this up from the on a recent vacation in sonoma county. gorgeous flavor}

Dry Creek Olive Company also makes outstanding olive oil. My favorite is their Three Orchards Blend.

I'm screwed. A few weeks ago we adopted a feral cat in hopes of controlling the herbicidal vole that has taken residence in our yard, burrowing tunnels through our grass and leaving severed root beds in its wake. According to the Humane Society, there are close to 50 million feral or stray cats in the United States. Reading about these forgotten felines and being assured that all it would take to care for one would be simple food, water, and shelter in our garage, I naively signed up to become parent to yet another creature. Stated another way, I welcomed a wild beast into my home.

This week's recipe: Spaghetti with Snow Peas and Salmon

{we like our pasta paired with plenty of fresh ingredients, this time snow peas from the farm}

There is a yiddish expression that goes something like: "to a worm in horseradish, the world is horseradish." That's been my existence for the past few weeks (my horseradish = relentless snow and yes, I am the worm). It's mid-June, the sun is finally here and I have dug myself out. Apologies for the radio silence.

A couple weeks back we received some crisp green snow peas as part of our CSA. I also read the then current issue of Bon Appetit that provided an excellent primer on cooking pasta. Inspired by both, I threw together Spaghetti with Snow Peas and Salmon. Deliciously light, this pasta dish really showcases the flavor of the sockeye and snow peas. Add as much pesto as you see fit -- I went for light -- and you'll have yourself a celebration of summer.

Now, it's time to dust off my bike and head for the hills. More soon.

{boil your pasta in the pot until just short of al dente, then finish it in the skillet with your sauce}

Spaghetti with Snow Peas and Salmon

3 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tb olive oil
2 Tb butter
1lb snow peas
3 wild sockeye salmon filets (about 15 oz)
1 cup halved grape tomatoes
3 Tb pesto (4oz) (more, if desired)
handful fresh basil, rinsed, stemmed and torn into pieces
1 cup finely grated pecorino romano
7oz spaghetti (cooked to just before al dente -- about 6 minutes)
salt and pepper, for seasoning

:: Preheat the oven to 350º. Season the salmon filets with salt and pepper and arrange the halved grape tomatoes around the salmon on a large cookie sheet. Bake for 20 minutes or until the salmon flakes easily.

:: While the salmon is baking, wash and trim the snow peas. Add spaghetti to 3 quarts of boiling, salted water. Cook for time specified on packaging, minus about 2 minutes (until just before al dente). Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water. Drain.

:: Heat the olive oil and butter over medium heat in a large skillet. Add garlic and stir one minute. Stir in the snow peas and cook until slightly softened but still bright green, about 3 minutes. Add the tomatoes and salmon, gently breaking the salmon into flakes.

:: Transfer spaghetti to skillet, adding 1/4 cup pasta water and pasta. Cook about 1 minute, stirring and tossing often, until the sauce coats the pasta. Stir in cheese and basil (and more pasta water if the sauce seems dry) toss and serve.

Serves 4-6

{memorial day 2011. what you can't see are the snowcapped mountains in the background}

This week's recipe: Quinoa and Fava Tabbouleh with Lemon Vinaigrette

{a fresh twist on ancient ingredients}

What is up with this week? First, James Durbin gets voted off American Idol ("give metal a chance," people!) and now a rider-led protest thwarts the first stage of the Tour of California (take it from me, the roads to be ridden were clear of snow and ice, no wind to speak of. Proof of point: a toddler/hopeful spectator was riding his Kettler trike on Brockway Summit. Man up and ride!). On both fronts, so disappointing. Nevertheless, these "injustices" must be taken in stride and life goes on. Thank God for good food.

After last week's recipe for Fava Beans with Bacon and Shaved Pecorino and another round of favas in our CSA, I did a bit more research on the delicious bean (technically a vetch) and discovered more to appreciate about this ancient food. Fava beans thrive in cool, wet weather and in regions prone to "overwinter." Good Lord, could I actually grow fava beans? Imagine! And because they tend to harvest early, they help coax us from a cold, dark winter right into glorious Spring. How curious that a modest bean might become my hero.

In celebration of this champion bean, I fashioned a tabbouleh-type dish that is worth repeating and packs enough punch to be a light meal on its own. The fava bean and quinoa provide an earthy, nutty anchor while the mint and lemon zest speak of Spring. Add the colorful carrot and peppery radish and we have something to talk about.

So, while the rest of the world buzzes about the occurrences of the past week, I lift my glass of Chardonnay in a toast to James, the shamed pro cyclists and the fava bean. Regardless of the circumstances, may they continue to dazzle us with all that they have to offer.

Quinoa and Fava Tabbouleh with Lemon Vinaigrette

1 cup uncooked quinoa
2 cups water
3/4 cup chopped radish (about 3 medium)
3/4 cup grated carrot (about 3 medium)
1 lb fava beans shelled (yields about 1 cup fava beans)
1 Tb chopped fresh mint

Lemon Vinaigrette

1 Tb lemon juice
1 Tb red wine vinegar
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
1/2 tsp honey
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 tsp lemon zest

:: Combine 1 cup uncooked quinoa with 2 cups salted water in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Simmer covered for 15 minutes or until the quinoa absorbs the water. Let sit covered for 10 minutes and fluff. Transfer to glass bowl and place in refrigerator to chill.

:: While the quinoa is chilling, combine the lemon juice, red wine vinegar, salt, pepper, honey, olive oil and lemon zest in a glass jar. Shake well.

:: Shuck, blanch and shell the fava beans (for complete instructions, see here. Chop the radishes and grate the carrot. Once quinoa is chilled, add the radish, carrot, mint and fava beans and toss with Lemon Vinaigrette.

Serves 6-8

This week's recipe: Fava Beans with Bacon and Shaved Pecorino

{three simple ingredients}

It helps to be a daydreamer when you're doing something as tedious as shucking fava beans (also known as broad beans). An open window. A warm breeze. A Tuscan villa. An abundant garden. I've never been to Tuscany, but I have some pretty good visuals (thanks, in part, to Diane Lane. Wait -- why is it that Hollywood's heroines seem to require a divorce as much as a passport in order to experience Italy?). Anyway, my afternoon in Italy was perfectly pleasant and what's more, by the time I returned to my kitchen, I'd painstakingly removed the beans from their pods and they were blanching on the stove.

The allure of the Italian villa is real. Though I have yet to visit Italy, I was lucky enough one summer in college to spend some time with a good friend and her family outside a little town called Bonnieux in Provence, France. The modest villa they had rented was a short walk to town where we would fetch fresh milk and bread almost daily, and shop an open air market overflowing with vibrant vegetables and fruits brought in from nearby gardens and orchards. It was so easy to be inspired by the fresh ingredients we found at the market. And such a luxury to be able to buy only what we needed for a day or two. (It's actually not that different from my current existence. Our refrigerator compressor blew last Thursday and we've been living out of coolers with nearly daily trips to our local market. Again, evidence that it helps to be a daydreamer. Failed compressor = Mediterranean fantasy).

I depend each week on my CSA to provide me with a dose of what it feels like to be faced with the abundance of an open-air market. This past week, we received fava beans -- an ancient, spectacular food that, to me, feels like a Mediterranean villa in that it requires us to slow down and take our time. And get this. Italy and fava beans may have something else in common. Favas have a high concentration of L-dopa (dopamine) an amino acid that contributes to improved memory, energy and sex drive (see here). At least one of those sounds like Italy to me. Fava beans also provide you with a healthy dose of dietary fiber and protein and are an excellent source of folate.

Oh, and by the way -- I have plans to go to Italy. Not airline tickets and reservation kind of plans, but plans nonetheless. And I'll have you know, I'm bringing my hunk of a husband with me.

Fava Beans with Bacon and Shaved Pecorino

2 cups shelled fava beans (approx 2 1/2 lbs in pods)
10 strips no-nitrate bacon (I use Niman Ranch)
Approx 5 oz Pecorino Romano, shaved
salt and pepper to taste

:: Follow these steps to prepare the fava beans: Remove beans from pod. Blanch beans for 3 minutes in boiling water to soften skin. Peel off outer skin (the skin will be the white-ish part). More detail here

:: Cook the bacon. My preferred method is broiling. Place a couple inches under a preheated broiler for approximately 8 minutes, or until the bacon starts to curl. Flip about 1/2 way through. Remove bacon from drippings and place on a paper towel to drain. Pat dry. Cut into bite sized pieces.

:: Using a vegetable peeler and peeling towards you, shave the Pecorino into long strips. Gently break strips into smaller flakes.

:: Combine the fava beans, bacon and pecorino in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper, to taste. Serve immediately on its own, over greens, or with your choice of pasta.

Serves 6

Spring 2011. I finally took a tape measure out front and measured the stubborn snow banks that continue to haunt our yard. I should be over it by now. Right? And at least, I should be over writing about it (please accept my apology). Consider this an attempt at closure. See photo. Feel sympathy. I promise I'll stop barking.

 {our front yard, May 2011}

Of course, buried in four feet of snow (8 in places!) is a silver lining. My house has never been more organized. I've had an intense (possibly clinical?) case of Spring Cleaning. You'd think I was about to have another baby. Re-organized closets. Check. Cleaned out garage. Check. Dentist and Dr's appointments for the next 6 months scheduled. Check. Photo books made. Check. And that was Day 1. You get my point. 

This compulsive behavior has left little time for elaborate dishes. So the other night, while semi-supervising impressive fort-building and battling iPhoto, I reached for the asparagus and fennel we'd received from the Farm and threw together Shaved Asparagus and Fennel Salad. The result was something light and flavorful, and surprisingly mild. Shaving both the asparagus and fennel mellows their impact and the feta doesn't overwhelm. Fresh, easy and very spring-like, this salad was delicious alongside grilled salmon.

{tastes like Spring}

Shaved Asparagus and Fennel Salad

4 cups shaved asparagus (1 lg bunch, approx 8-10 stalks)

2 cups shaved fennel (1 lg bulb)

6 oz sheeps feta, cubed

3 Tb lemon juice

1 Tb dijon mustard

6 Tb olive oil

fresh ground pepper

:: Rinse and trim asparagus (No need to do the bend/snap technique. Just cut off about the bottom inch). Lay asparagus flat on a cutting board and shave long ribbons using a vegetable peeler. The tip acts to stabilize the asparagus. When you've shaved as much as you can off of a stalk, remove tips and set aside. 

:: Rinse and quarter the fennel bulb. Remove the core from each of the quarters. Lay flat side down on cutting board and shave using a vegetable peeler or slice thinly with a sharp knife. 

:: Combine shaved asparagus, fennel and feta in a salad bowl.

:: In a glass jar or measuring cup, whisk together 1 Tb dijon, 3 Tb fresh lemon juice and 6 Tb olive oil. Add fresh ground pepper to taste. Toss the salad with the dressing gently, so as not to break up the feta cubes. Garnish with asparagus tips. 

Serves 6