My Matt

If there's one thing I'll miss about my pregnancy it's how it brought Matt and me closer together.  I've heard from so many people that you only have your first once, how exciting the time is, to enjoy every moment of it, but I never was able to appreciate that until now, in the sunset of my pregnancy.


Seeing Matt download audio books on happy babies, or practicing swaddling on that damn stuffed frog, or take my hand protectively as we cross the street, have made my heart swell: I have never been so in love.  He will be a soothing source to our (probable) Scorpio baby: his calming demeanor coupled with his/her passionate intensity.  That's what I like to think anyway.  Two nights ago he told me he hopes our child is feisty like his/her mother, and I know I couldn't be with anyone better: someone who actually appreciates I go from tears to snark in twenty seconds flat.  Someone who enjoys putting up with me.  Someone who never makes me feel "less than" for my shortcomings.  


I know he will be an amazing father, and I cannot wait for the ride of our lives to begin. 

Matt figuring out the infant car seat and the car seat base.
 (I still don't know how they snap apart.)

With disrupted sleep and a long commute, I'm lazier than ever.
Matt has been doing much of the cooking and I just had to snap a photo of this:
toothpicks in my chicken sandwich.  

Using the last of our summer basil he mad a rustic bruschetta.
Lounging on the couch in dirty sweats I hardly thought I was worthy.
And again, a "10" for presentation!

Funnel Cakes and Friends

I very fortunate to have people in my life who lift me up and say, "Kathryn - it will happen - one way or another."  From the wonderful ladies who read this blog to the girls I see in morning at the gym to my coworker, amidst her own struggle, whom I cry to monthly when I receive the "It's negative" call.  Thank you all.

I had one such friend for over for dinner on Friday, and no meal could have done this girl justice: she has listened to be bitch endlessly on work and health, and is one of the few people who makes work....well, doable.  She is also one of the funniest, brightest and most insightful people I know.  Oh, and she also accessorizes really well.  It goes without saying I had to make a yummy meal for this friend.

I thought long and hard about make-ahead meals because we were both getting to my place at the same time.  The only thing I could come up with lasagna, and I just wasn't feeling it.  That week Matt had harvested the last of our basil from the garden - a good two-hands full of summertime sweet and green leaves.  A new batch of pesto was born.

I cook with my dog and with music.  Matt (brilliantly) installed speakers in the kitchen this summer and now I sashay with my spoons.  Penny just waits for food.

I have learned the best pesto is made with roasted (in questionable amounts of olive oil) garlic.  The garlic mellows and an enticing sweetness is added to the dish.  And I admit: I plucked multiple cloves from the oil and ate them just like that.

 

Like a said, a lot of pesto was made.  And even though you'd think this batch was positively PUNGENT with garlic, I swear, it was, if garlic can be, mellow.  

I have no exact ratios: a large handful of basil, maybe a half cup of grated cheese (I used parm and romano), loads of garlic and, of course, the garlic-infused olive oil.  

To save time, I roasted bell peppers, grape tomatoes and zucchini with the garlic and mixed everything the night before, having only to make the pasta the day of.  I was a bit afraid things would get "mushy" but shrimp and roasted veggies are already mushy to begin with (right?), so I was good to go.

 

I thought it was only right to add MORE cheese to the already cheese-laden pesto dish.  Because that's just what I do.

I marketed the get-together as a "Harvest Party" - the only thing harvesty about this summertime meal was my fake leaves and gourds strewn about the table.  But, hey, I tried.  And aren't these two dears?  Yes, I really like them both.

I put Matt in charge of dessert and he came up with funnel cakes.  I was awe-struck with his genius and I think Danita was just as smitten.  Oh, this one sorts of looks like an intestine, no?  Thought it was a bit apt.

I debated over whether to include this photo because I look damn freaky, but thought it really just encapsulated the mood of the evening.  And my serpent tongue.

Did I mention we ate three of these babies?  It's sad but true.  Another friend was supposed to come for the evening but had romantic plans with her boyfriend.  When she found out we were having funnel cakes it presented a big quandary for her: long-planned big night out with said boyfriend, or funnel cake with us freaks?  She chose the former, and I think it's fair to state Matt, Danita and I would say she chose wrong.

So, here are the tips: always roast your garlic for fabulous pesto.  I buy a container of pre-peeled cloves at my local produce place.  It's great for us lazy folk.  Pre-peeled garlic is also great for mojo de ajo, Matt's favorite Mexican accompaniment (great on fish, veggies, anything).  It's a good thing we both adore garlic and don't mind morning garlic burps. (Yes - this stuff really sticks, uh, with 'ya.)

Matt's Funnel Cakes (really from www.allrecipes.com)

• 2 eggs
• 1 1/2 cups milk
• 2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 cups vegetable oil
• 1/4 cup confectioners' sugar

1. Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt.
2. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the eggs and the milk. Add flour mixture to the egg mixture, and beat with a mixer until smooth. The consistency should be thin enough to run through a small kitchen funnel. Test it, and if it is too thick beat in a little more milk; if too thin, beat in a bit more flour.
3. In an eight inch skillet, heat the oil to 360 degrees F (182 degrees C).
4. Put your finger over the bottom opening of the funnel, and fill the funnel with a generous 1/2 cup of the batter. Hold the funnel close to the surface of the oil, and release the batter into the oil while making a circular motion. Fry until golden brown. Use tongs and wide spatula to turn the cake over carefully. Fry the second side one minute. Drain on paper towels, and sprinkle with sifted confectioners' sugar. 

 One last thing: don't look at the caloric content of this dish.  That just ruins all the fun.

Foodie Delights

I've been taking delight in the little culinary details found in my kitchen.

I picked up these gorgeous globes (uh, aka heirloom cherry tomatoes) at the market last week.

I got this huge bunch of dill at my cheapy produce place, too. I put the pistol and mortar in the photo only to "be artsy". And yes, I know it's more silly than artsy.

Our newly organized spice cabinet! Finally (FINALLY!) put all those yummy Indian spices in jars.

I'm including this because it's hanging on our frig, which is in the kitchen. It was a purposely goofy photo we took last year at Matt's work dinner. Not purposely goofy? Me holding the mask upside down. And I thought I was being all clever at the time.

Fresh Skirt Steak Salad

This morning I went to the farmer's market with Matt and Penny. Matt had a bratwurst sandwich (nevermind it was 9:30 am) and I gathered up baby squash, eggs, and bread. Buying bread, I went for the dark brown loaf called "Brown Prairie Bread", a hearty brick of whole wheat ensconced with sesame seeds. I bought this because it looked healthy, and I certainly wanted to at least give off an aura of health when I ordered from the cute-ish hipster manning the bread booth. (Nevermind I consider Doritos haute-cuisine.) The truth is, I prefer a white or even a multi-grain loaf. Whole wheat is too "granola" and tough for me (and prior to my surgery, for my body). And don't lie to me and say you don't love a crusty white bread, too.

But I think it's good to be true to yourself, and I sometimes (okay, oftentimes) I give into these cravings, whether it be the white bread, Doritos, or meat. I've been eating as little meat as possible for the last six to eight months. I eat meat when it's served to me, but very rarely cook with it at home, with the exception of seafood. A few weeks back I went on a meat rampage. Now, "meat rampage" really means like two bonafide meat dishes in one week. I guess sometimes a girl just wants some steak.

Even when we eat meat, it's organic, grass-fed, and in small quantities. I think that's a healthy compromise. Here is a delicious skirt steak salad with greens, avocado and lime we devoured in front of the television that week (I guess old habits do die hard).

It's (of course) courtesy of chef Rick Bayless, and we made a few substitutions (no frisee for example, I hate the stuff). And I think this is why we love Mexican, or, new Mexican I should say: there is nothing more fresh than lime and cilantro, fatty avocados and a dollop of sour cream.

Below is Rick's recipe, with my additions/alterations in italics.

Skirt Steak Salad with "Wilted" Greens, Tomato, Avocado, and Lime

• 1 medium-large head (8 oz.) frisee or escarole, cut into 2-inch sections OR 8 cups salad spinach, long stems removed (We used mixed baby greens.)
• 2 medium-large ripe tomatoes, cored and cut into 1/2 inch cubes
• 2 medium avocados, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
• 1/4 cup plus 2 TB. olive oil (divided use)
• 1 pound skirt steak (thicker "outer" skirt steak is most tender - it should already be trimmed of the exterior while membrane and surface fat)
• Salt
• Ground black pepper
• 2 to 3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped or crushed through a press
• 1/4 cup beef broth or water
• 1 canned chipotle chile en adobo, seeds scraped out and finely chopped (We just used canned green chiles.)
• 1/4 cup fresh lime juice
• 1/3 cup grated Mexican queso anejo or other garnishing cheese such as Romano or Parmesan
• (We also added slices of mango.)
  
• (We also added grilled veggies from the day prior - mainly zucchini and baby bellas - to add additional heft to the salad.)

Scoop the greens into a large bowl and strew the chopped tomatoes and avocados over the top. Set a very large (12-inch) skillet over medium-high heat, and measure in 2 TB of the oil. Sprinkle both sides of the skirt steak with salt and pepper. Lay it on the hot oil and cook until it's about medium-rare, 1 to 1 1/2 minutes on each side. Remove to a cooking rack set over a large plate - this keeps the juices in the meat rather than running out onto the plate.

Turn the heat under the skillet to low. Add the garlic and stir for a few seconds, until very fragrant. Then pour in the broth (or water) and stir to release any browned bits on the bottom of the skillet. Turn off the heat and add the chile, along with the lime juice and the remaining 1/4 cup oil. Season with salt (about 1/2 tsp.) and pepper (about 1/4 tsp.).

Cut the skirt steak into roughly 3-inch lengths, then cut each piece across the grain into 1/4-inch strips. Add to the bowl with the greens. Pour the warmed dressing over the salad and toss to coat - the greens will wilt slightly. Divide and sprinkle with grated cheese. Serve immediately. (We also added the grilled veggies and mango, and served with sour cream and toasted tortillas.)

Simple, Fresh Tomatillo Salsa

 You have not had tomatillo ("green") salsa until you made your own.  I know, I know - it's quite the statement, but I'm sticking to it.  It's darn fresh.  And bright.  And gorgeous to look at.  And it tastes pretty amazing, too.  If this is the way to Matt's Mexican-lovin' heart, then grab me a chip, I'm ready to dig in.

***This is also terrific with scrambled eggs, on top of a salad or spooned over fish/meat, or anything else for that matter.

Fresh Tomatillo Salsa

from Rick Bayless

• 4 medum (about 8 oz total) tomatillos, husked, rinsed and quartered
• 1 large garlic clove, peeled and quartered
• Hot green chiles to taste (Rick used 2 serranos are 1 jalapeno), stemmed and roughly chopped
• 1/2 to 2/3 cup (loosely packed) roughly chopped cilantro
• Salt

Combine the tomatillos, garlic, chiles and cilantro in a blender for food processor.  Add 1/4 cup water and a generous 1/2 teaspoon salt.  Process to a course puree; if using a blender, being blending on low, at first pulsing to get the mixture moving evenly through the blender blades.  Pour into a salsa dish and think with a little more water if necessary to give the salsa an easily spoonable consistency.  Taste and season with additional salt if you think necessary.  Serve within the hour.

A few riffs on the salsa, per Rick Bayless: Replace or augment the cilantro with (1) lemony herbs like lemon balm, lemon verbena or a little finely sliced kaffir lime leaf, (2) finely grated citrus zest from kaffir or key limes or from lemons, or (3) unexpected herbs like basil, flat-leaf parsley, fennel fronts, mint, or hoja santa.

This is Matt's experession after eating the salsa.  (Or also when looking at glass fruit.  Either/or.)

I love legumes.

There they are. All my lovelys...

I am having an affair with beans. And Indian food. And lots of it.

I am perpetually stuffed, and I swear on all that is holy my stomach is sticking out more. Beans are fibrous and filling, so you don't need to eat huge plates full of the stuff, but I still do. With naan. And chopped cilantro. Let me explain: these past few weeks I've been increasingly enamored with legumes. I cannot help it. Maybe it's a gastronomic rebellion of sorts: I had to limit my fiber while I was sick, and now I'm having a gluttonous free-for-all with nuts and beans and tomatoes. And chocolate. Oh, and cheese. Help me.

Every night I whip up another curry or Indian dal or whatever, and, oh lord, I cannot stop. Beans are so damn versatile. And cheap. And healthy. Like I said, I'm having an affair with legumes. And baby, they're gooooood..... That being said, more bean recipes will be posted shortly. Sorry.

Tonight we had channa masala, an Indian chickpea and tomato dish. One of my favorites at Indian restaurants, second only to chicken saag. (Really, it's better than it sounds.) And to make matters worse, Matt just made a huge batch of homemade sesame naan. Perfect for scooping up more beans! Hey, when we get into something, we really get into it.

Here's to hoping you can stomach more beans...

Your last meal?

What would you want your last meal to be? Pecan-encrusted pork chops? A little too frou-frou, uh? How about something that shouts egalitarianism from the rooftops, say a burger and fries? From McDonalds, of course. And add a shake, too.

Scratch that: let’s load on the sweets. Since it’s November, we’ll include all the pies (pumpkin, pecan, and apple to start), and maybe a decadent chocolate cake. Homemade buttercream icing – definitely.

In an era of nothing being too taboo and everyone being wholly irreverent (which I relish, if you haven’t realized), an article on Slate made me drop my soup spoon during my lunch break. It talked about death row prisoners’ last meals: can they really order anything? What do they choose to eat? Nothing was remarkably surprising about it: many chose filet mignon or, indeed, a burger and fries. The filet mignon often resulted in a hamburger steak, and the guy who requested 24 tacos was given four. Basically, if the kitchen could make it, it would, and improvise when necessary.

I am vehemently against the death penalty (for matters practical and those not so tangible), but whatever your politics, the article – and the links in the piece*—were startlingly sad for a Wednesday afternoon. What if you were the cook preparing the last meal – who were often prisoners themselves: would you add extra butter and substitute the skim milk for whole (and what does it matter now)? Add a garnish to the plate? Say a prayer as the plate was covered and brought to its final patron?

This wasn’t supposed to be a treatise on last rights, the judicial system, or any of that: I want to talk about food. For someone saddled with Crohn’s, I adore food. Right now I’m dreaming of roasted vegetables (pass the rutabaga, baby) and think there are few things more delicious than a Cortland apple or a chewy brownie with cold milk.

My last meal wouldn’t be anything fancy, but quietly forbidden in its own simple way. I would have a mound of spaghetti with fatty meatballs and the richest, most tomato-y marinara know to man, with buttery garlic bread. For dessert, I would have a sample: tiramisu, crème brulee, and chocolate truffles. If eaten today, this meal would leave me bedridden. Anything fatty is a deal-breaker and makes me run for the hills (correction, I would only stiffly walk to the hills, and only if a bathroom was located there), so the ground beef is a no-no. I think the garlic bread slathered with butter speaks for itself. Acidic tomatoes are a nightmare, and the desserts? White sugar and fatty cream (oh, luscious luscious cream) are toxic. (And boy oh boy, I love and eat all of these things a little more than occasionally.)

Crohn’s be damned, what would your last meal be? Please leave a comment for a hungry girl!

************
*The article has links to the state of Texas’ correctional website, which records the final statements of inmates, which were strikingly sobering. Some inmates reiterate their innocence. Almost all denounce what they did and allude to God. The most unsettling statements say, “Warden, I’m done now” or “Warden, I’m ready”. I don’t know why I read so many – it’s the worst form of voyeurism I guess – but definitely thought-provoking.

Soda no more

I like soda. I do. I think drinking soda is a bit trashy - it's sugar in a can - but I find it delicious. I can no longer drink diet soda due to Crohn's. The sugar substitute, aspartame, wrecks havoc on my digestive track and when I find myself in the bathroom Matthew is often on the other side of the door, mocking me in motherly voice saying, "Kathryn...did you have diet soda again?! Tell the truth! Now did you?!"

Matt loves the granddaddy of all sugary, trashy soda: the pukish yellow of what is Mountain Dew (Okay, fine, I like it too...in all its eco-hazard-colored glory). At times I have stolen from his Dew stash, which I swear he monitors. "Where is my Dew?" he'll bark. That's when I slowly lower the can I was sipping on to under the bed. (Who doesn't drink soda in bed while typing on the laptop?)

Although I love soda, I would much rather have my daily allotment (which I too often exceed) in food. Food trumps everything: I adore food, but often find myself buying a can of this sugary crack from the vending machine to accompany my food.

Which brings me to the subject of this post. The below ad. Kudos to NY's Health Department: I think I'll finally be able to kick my soda habit.

AWARD-WINNING Spinach Artichoke Pasta Salad

Early-morning close-up. Yawn.

I can legitimately say this recipe is award-winning. (Just like my apple pie recipe, which I won't share, because a girl has got to have SOME secrets!) On Friday at work we had yet another cut-throat cook-off of epic proportions (and by that, I mean twelve of us suckers cooked something and gathered in the employee kitchen at noon...HIGH noon, that is). The theme was summer BBQ, so I decided to make a Spinach Artichoke Pasta Salad, which I've made no less than half a dozen times before. And, you know, I was really dedicated; I even woke up EARLY on Friday morning to cook this baby as I was at a concert Thursday evening (note to Nancy: Fleet Foxes was great, they sounded just as harmonious live, although I think every six-foot-plus dude was in our direct eye line, which is something odd for a 5'10" girl to complain about).

I managed to squeeze out a first place victory in the cook-off, and it was all pretty much on the up and up since I even withdrew my vote for myself (yes, I have very little integrity).

So this recipe is originally from squeaky-voiced Rachel Ray (thanks Rach, because now I'm going to call it my own!). This is why you should make it in lieu of your typical pasta salad: 1) it's prettier, and 2) it's healthier. Enter it into a workplace cook-off; let them know Kathryn sent you!

Spinach Artichoke Pasta Salad

Ingredients

• 1 package tortellini (I use chee
  
• 1/2 pound fresh baby spinach
• 1 jar marinated artichoke hearts (any size)
  
• 1 red roasted pepper, drained and chopped
• 1/2 small red onion, chopped
• 1 clove garlic, cracked from skin
• 2 teaspoons lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves, chopped or 1/2 teaspoon dried leaves
• Black pepper
• A handful sun-dried tomatoes packed in oil, coarsely chopped

Directions

Bring water to boil for pasta. Cook according to package (or until tortellini is floating). Drain and scatter the tortellini on a cookie sheet for quick drying.

In this photo, we see the tortellini bathing in early-morning light, waiting for their chance to be apart of this AWARD-WINNING salad.

Coarsely chop baby spinach. Combine with artichoke pieces, roasted red pepper and red onion.

Choppity chop chop.

Chop garlic, then add salt to it and mash it into a paste with the flat of your knife. Transfer garlic paste to a small bowl and lemon juice and vinegar to it. Whisk in oil, thyme and pepper. Add pasta and sun-dried tomatoes to the salad. Dress salad and gently toss. Serve or refrigerate.

Hummus is among us

The hummus took Matt to heavenly new heights.

I remember my mom making hummus back in the 90's. That was considering culinary cutting-edge (I mean, a lot of folks didn't know what hummus was), and now look at it! Hummus surely had a good PR person. Lazing around on Saturday afternoon (after my gym visit, ha ha, and Matt's regular Saturday morning badminton group, double ha ha), I thought we needed some pep. Some protein! And some lip-smackin' goodness.

I whipped out my food processor, some pita, and went to work. I decided to make roasted red pepper hummus and give my boring old pita a jolt. Usually I make my hummus with cumin and accent it with cilantro, but this is a very tasty basil-infused alternative, and can be made in 10 minutes flat using a food processor for both recipes (with no washing in between!).

Roasted Red Pepper Hummus with Rustic Pita Chips

For the pita:

• 1/3 cup basil leaves
• 1 clove garlic
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 1 package pita bread
• salt and pepper, dash

Cut pita bread into small triangles or, if mini pitas, half moons. (I keep the pita double-sided for extra thickness, and most definitely due to some laziness.) In a food processor, pulse garlic and basil for a few seconds and then add the olive oil and salt and pepper. Brush onto pita and place on a cookie sheet. Bake for 5-10 minutes (watch it) or until crispy at 400 degrees.

This is them right before they go in the oven. I just started dipping them in the olive oil mixture and eating them, right then and there. Oops.

For the hummus:

• 1 15 oz can garbanzo beans (chick peas), drained
• 1/3 cup tahini paste
• 2 cloves garlic
• juice of 1 lemon
• 1/2 cup packed basil leaves
• 1/3 - 1/2 cup roasted red pepper (I just used the ones in the jar.)

While the pita is baking, add all the hummus ingredients to the food processor except for the roasted red pepper, and pulse until smooth. Then add the pepper and pulse again until smooth. If necessary, salt and pepper to taste. Garnish with extra basil and serve with pita chips.

Eat up!

Speedy Thai Chicken Wraps

Who needs Bangkok when you can have Betty Crocker?

When I moved out on my own, my mom gave me Betty Crocker's Quick & Easy Cookbook. I immediately turned to the desserts section (because that's what anyone who is sane does, right?), but after my initial sugar fixation I decided to fix these snappy Thai wraps (which I am sure would be an abomination to anyone who is really from Thailand). Oh well; they are yummy in my provincial Pennsylvanian eyes.

Note: You cannot mess these up. Add as much cabbage (coleslaw mix) as you feel comfortable with, and feel free to reserve some of the dressing mixture for dipping.


Thai Chicken Wraps

• 1 cup Asian dressing (I use Newman's Own Asian Sesame Ginger dressing)
  
• 1/4 cup peanut butter (smooth or crunchy)
  
• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1 lb chicken breasts, cut into 1/2-inch strips
• 1 teaspoon finely chopped ginger
• 5-6 cups (one bag) coleslaw mix (sliced cabbage)
• 1 red bell pepper, cut into strips
• 1/2 cup chopped cilantro
• 3 tablespoons chopped peanuts (optional)
  
• flour tortillas

Mix dressing, peanut butter and cayenne pepper until smooth. Saute ginger and chicken in skillet until almost thoroughly cooked. Pour 1/2 of dressing mixture onto chicken and cut on high heat for a few minutes. Remove chicken from skillet.

Chicken satay, anyone?

Add the following to the skillet: 1/2 of dressing mixture, coleslaw mix, bell pepper, peanuts and cilantro.

I could eat it just like this.

Coat mixture well and cook for 2-3 minutes, or until mixture softens slightly. Add chicken to mixture and serve in flour tortillas.

Makes 4 servings.

C is for Cookie, that's Good Enough for Me

Editor's Note (haha, "Editor"): I can attest that these cookies are yummy, particularly because I had no less than 15 of them. Also, thanks to Matt for indulging me and (grudgingly) posting this entry. ~Kathryn

It's that time again, the time for me to be coerced into writing a blog entry. I'll start with a definition, as most uninspired writings and speeches seem to. Dictionary.com defines a cookie as:

a small cake made from stiff, sweet dough rolled and sliced or dropped by spoonfuls on a large, flat pan (cookie sheet) and baked.

So, these cookie things sound pretty delicious don't they? But how could one possibly learn how to make such a delightful treat? Where could one possibly find such a yummy snack? Ok, believe it or not, you can find a multitude of them in the grocery store next to the crackers, but that would be too easy. Lucky for you, I happen to be premiering a recipe for home grown Oatmeal Cookies I tested out last night. Actually I'm still "testing out" the remainder of the batch right now. Ok, it seems AllRecipies.com has the same recipe up on their site, but hopefully I can add some extra insight to make the write-up worthwhile.

Anyways, here it goes.

Incredible Edible Oatmeal Cookies

• 1 cup butter, softened
• 1 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 3 cups rolled oats
• 1 1/2 cup raisins

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
2. In a large bowl, cream together the butter, brown sugar, white sugar, eggs, and vanilla until smooth. Combine the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt; stir into the sugar mixture. Stir in the oats and raisins. For an extra exciting stirring experience, I recommend switching between clockwise and counterclockwise, or figure eight pattern for bakers who are more advanced, or anti-clockwise for the bakers more British.
3. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets.
4. Bake 9 to 12 minutes until light and golden. Do not overbake. Let them cool for 2 minutes before removing from cookie sheets to cool completely. Store in airtight container.

If a girl places a chocolate cake in her cart, don't judge, okay?

Oh yeah, there's the good stuff.

Pictured: Wegman's "Ultimate Chocolate Cake"

It's a good thing I don't live with a worrier. Case in point: last night. laying in bed, I heard buzzing sounds. "Do you hear that?" I asked Matt. "Oh yeah, I saw a hornet in here earlier." Lovely.

And I won't get into the specifics, but I've been feeling the effects of the recession personally at my job for the past year. A lot of additional cutbacks were just initiated, leaving us bewildered, worried, and a bit poorer, and wondering how safe our jobs are (not very). Last week when I learned of all of this I announced our American dream was all over, we'd lose the house, and won't be able to care for our daughter (who, yes, is our dog...to each their own, eh?). I was hyperbolic, and I was taking no prisoners.

"And Matt, I know you think you're getting a computer for your birthday, but, well, in light of recent economic developments, you're getting an egg toaster, okay?" (Don't get me started on his silly egg toaster contraption.) Matt didn't miss a beat and said he wanted some Xbox games if I was going to rob him of his right to a speedy computer. Only if they're used, I said. Fine, he said. Deal; now go clear the dishes, will you?

While Matt was loading the plates and forks in the dishwasher and doing some financial calculations in his head, all the while saying we'd be fine and not to worry about it, I was already thinking about dinners comprised of tuna and mac and cheese, and oh, the horror, cutting back on my favorite designer boutique. And by "favorite designer boutique", I mean Target. Obviously. I looked at Penny and wondered if she could be a show dog, or a dog model for extra cash, and by golly, I think the old girl has it in her, if it wasn't for her coffee-brown teeth. "Roll over!" I demanded. She looked at me, tilting her head. "Come on, roll over!" This time she looked at my plate, with it's stray lettuce and dressing and a noodle or two. "Eat it now, Penny, before it's all gone," I said as I placed the leftovers on the tile.

"Oh no, here we go," said Matt. "Look we're fine, Kathryn. Okay?" I responded that we shouldn't have bought our two new rocking chairs, which were sitting on the porch, as if two chairs would save us from financial ruin. Then as I was rummaging in the refrigerator, I saw that Matt's lunch meat cost eight dollars. "Matthew, this is insane, your turkey breast is eight dollars!" And you know what the boy said? He said it's ALWAYS eight dollars. Aghast, I closed the frig door and sat down. "What else haven't you been telling me?"

"You need to calm down," he said. My uber-frugality was short-lived as this weekend at the market I indulged in a $4.50 fresh loaf of rosemary bread, $7 of blue cheese, and an "ultimate" chocolate cake from the bakery - a girl has needs, okay?! Matt, eyeing the cake, said, "Are you sure you want to..." and that's when I gave me a cold, hard stare and, "What, Matt, are you judging me?" In all fairness, just the night before I insisted 1) I need to get in shape and return to the gym after my gazillion month hiatus, and 2) we are poor. However, in my defense, I DID return to the gym that morning (and, oh, 40 minutes on an elliptical machine watching SOAPNet burns off an entire chocolate cake, right?), and Matt DID insist we were "okay" financially. I then added, for good measure, that this was a "hard time for me" and that "it's the little things like cake that brighten my day." He said okay, and I placed the cake in the cart. Sucker.

Savory Zucchini Soup

Yes, gazpacho isn't the only summertime soup!

I'm sick, so I decided to make an old summertime (well, anytime) standby: zucchini soup. It wasn't such a smart move because I was already sweating before cooking, and afterwards had to get yet another cold shower. But it was totally worth it. This soup is rich (but not too much so), and has a buttery savoriness with tender pieces of chicken and piles of shredded zucchini. We just can't get enough of it and I'm already looking forward to leftovers at lunch tomorrow. This makes enough for a couple days (for two) - and I swear, it's even better the next day.

Zucchini Soup

• 3 chicken breasts, cut into cubes or strips
  
• 2 pounds zucchini (about 6 of those suckers), shredded
  
• 2 small - medium onions, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, crushed
• 2 tablespoons flour
• 3 cups chicken stock (1 carton)
• 1/2 pint light cream
• salt and pepper / olive oil
  

Saute chicken in olive oil until almost cooked through.

Like so. (Just do everything in the stock pot - easy breezy.)

Dang, look at all that zucchini!

Add onions to soften. Then add zucchini, and garlic.

In the beginning of cooking.

Cook mixture for about 10 minutes, or until zucchini breaks down and softens and releases juice.

After 7-10 minutes the zucchini gets juicy and soft, like this.

Next add the flour and cook for 1 minute. Add the stock and let the soup come to a boil, and then let simmer for a couple minutes. Add cream and simmer for 2 minutes. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve with crusty bread or crackers. Makes up to six servings.

Save some for me.

Summertime salads

I know how to use the "close-up" function on my cheapo Kodak camera. No, no, applause isn't necessary.

When I think of summer foods, I picture fresh produce. I imagine the farmer's market downtown on Saturdays with vendors selling organic greens and berries, fresh seeded bread and eggs from free-range hens. I think of the small produce stands on the highway in Maryland and Delaware on my way home from the beach. "Sweet corn in 1/2 a mile!" signs sing. "Local peaches straight ahead!"

With all this garden-friendly roughage, my appetite inevitably veers to salads. Aren't they incredibly versatile? A plate of greens cries out for ground beef and Colby Jack when it's a taco salad, or slivered almonds and Mandarin oranges for more Asian fare. A summer salad needs berries or tomatoes from the garden.

This evening I altered a recipe found in Real Simple. It's a classic summertime salad: mixed greens dressed with rich olive oil and balsamic vinegar, topped with grilled caramelized red onion and grilled sweet peaches with creamy Gorgonzola and toasted pecans, with a grilled chicken breast on the side. It was savory with the slightest sweetness from the peaches, and buttery-rich from the olive oil. It was also damn easy, and made for a glossy magazine pretty picture.

A Summertime Salad with Peaches, Pecans, and Panache

• 4 chicken breasts
  
• mixed greens (for 4)
  
• olive oil and balsamic vinegar
• salt and pepper
• 2-3 ripe peaches, cut into wedges
• toasted pecans (optional)
• 1 extra large red onion, cut into 1/2 inch rounds
• Gorgonzola cheese, for sprinkling

Heat grill to medium-high. Brush the chicken with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. In a bowl, toss the onions with additional olive oil and salt and pepper.

There is nothing sexier than a man smacking raw chicken with a rolling pin. In this candid pic, our viewer sees Matt flattening chicken breasts for even grilling. Whatta hunk.

The onion and peaches drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with salt and pepper. (And awaiting the grill.)

Grill the chicken and onions until the chicken is cooked through and the onions are tender, 5 to 6 minutes per side. Grill the peaches until charred, 2 minutes per side.

Don't let this happen to you!!! We ran out of propane in the middle of cooking. I am conveniently blaming Matt for this. Here he is doing the walk of shame...to the gas station for another canister.

Since I had an extra twenty minutes due to the above-mentioned episode, I decided to add some toasted pecans to the salad (the original recipe did not use nuts). To toast, simple drizzle some buttah on pecans and roast them on a cookie sheet for 10-12 minutes or until they're aromatic and nutty. DO NOT eat straight out of the oven. You will burn your tongue. Penny and I know that now.

Here's Matt's hairy arm checking the chicken temperature with a meat thermometer. Cook chicken to 165 degrees.

Peaches before.

And after.

Toss the mixed greens with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Top with grilled onions and peaches, Gorgonzola, and pecans (if desired). Serve with the chicken.

Serves 4.

I'm loving the foodie colors: purple, peach, green, rich brown...eat up!!