And by October I mean, of course, pumpkin. Yes, pumpkin is available year round in my neighborhood supermarket, but it just doesn’t feel right to indulge until October. Once October does finally roll around I’ll become obsessed with making sure I fit all of my pumpkin favorites into the months of October and November, that’s when it feels right.
Traditionally on October 1 I bake a big batch of pumpkin muffins. I must have tried a dozen different pumpkin muffin/bread recipes before I found that perfect formula. Then one glorious, life altering October 1, inspired by my friend Jen, I threw semi-sweet chocolate chips into the last dozen going into the oven. Pumpkin and chocolate? Jen has given me many pieces of life wisdom in the 27 years we’ve know each other, but adding chocolate chips to the pumpkin muffins ranks right at the top of the list! The following October 1 I swapped out milk chocolate for the semi sweets and arrived at my version of pumpkin muffin perfection.
Pumpkin bliss doesn’t stop there. There’s Pumpkin Spice Cake with Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting, a three layer delight, frosted only between the layers and on top. It’s a site to behold and a flavor combination that words cannot describe, the truth is in the tasting.
And, October wouldn’t be October without Pumpkin Sour Cream Pancakes, absolutely, without a doubt the best pancakes I’ve ever had in my life. My sister sent me this recipe many years ago and I am forever grateful. There’s something about the blend of the pumpkin and sour cream that create a texture you simply have to experience for yourself.
Speaking of breakfast, let us not forget pumpkin spice waffles; a delightful concoction of pretty much everything you put in pumpkin pie, plus dark brown sugar. Let that get nice & crispy in your waffle iron and it’s a little piece of heaven on earth.
For general snacking, and perfect for fall entertaining, there’s this awesome pumpkin dip with cream cheese, cinnamon and nutmeg all blended together. The pumpkin dip’s perfect partners are gingersnaps and cinnamon graham cracker sticks for a sweet twist on chips & dip.
By the way, I haven’t forgotten the classic pumpkin pie. In keeping with tradition, that will be part of our Thanksgiving menu.
The problem is, I have all these “must haves” from years past, but somehow still seem to find new pumpkin inspiration at every turn. Just last night I came across a Barefoot Contessa recipe for Pumpkin Mousse Parfait and immediately added it to the list. What can I say, my annual pumpkin craving was already in full swing and that just put me over the top. October 1 can’t get here fast enough! Anyone else with me on this?
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Meanwhile, back at the bacon wrapped jalapeños...
A couple of posts ago (http://kitchen-loulou.blogspot.com/2010/08/communal-table.html) I alluded to the life altering properties of cream cheese stuffed bacon wrapped jalapeños with a fleeting promise to discuss that recipe another day. Today is that day.
It all started with The Pioneer Woman’s Bacon Wrapped Jalapeño Thingies (http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/?s=bacon+wrapped+jalapeno+thingies). My dear friend Sherry studied that recipe, and then searched the far reaches of the World Wide Web to compare other thoughts on the subject. She carefully culled her favorite parts of each recipe and came up with a masterpiece of her very own. They looked great, they smelled amazing, but I was convinced I didn’t like jalapeños, so I was hesitant. And, as it turns out, I was also wrong. Really, really wrong. I wish I could confess to you exactly how many of these tasty morsels I put away that night, but frankly, I lost count. Suffice it to say it was embarrassing, but I just couldn’t stop myself. Then I craved them all the way home. I woke up the next morning still craving them. For someone who began that evening thinking she didn’t like jalapeños I believe that’s what they call a one eighty.
A couple of weeks later we were on vacation, replicating Sherry’s version of this new favorite treat when it dawned on me that using Boursin (garlic & herb version) would be a delicious shortcut for the filling. (I do some of my best thinking on vacation.) So, in the spirit of experimentation, vacation thinking and takings things to the next level, here’s how Bacon Wrapped Jalapeños play out in our house:
15 Jalapeño Peppers (washed, ends trimmed, split lengthwise, seeds & membrane removed)
1 package Boursin Garlic & Herb Cream Cheese at room temperature
15 slices of bacon, cut in half
Soak 30 toothpicks in water in advance. Cover baking sheet with foil, preheat oven to 300 degrees. Fill each pepper half with Boursin, wrap with half slice of bacon, securing bacon with a toothpick. Place assembled peppers on baking sheet. Bake for 42 minutes, turn oven to broil for approximately 3 minutes or until the bacon is crisped up to your personal satisfaction. (We like it really crisp, watch the peppers closely during the broiling phase, you know how pork fat pops when it’s getting happy!)
Settle in on the sofa with a big plate of these babies and you, too, just might discover you like jalapeño peppers after all. Seriously, it happened to me, it could happen to you.
It all started with The Pioneer Woman’s Bacon Wrapped Jalapeño Thingies (http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/?s=bacon+wrapped+jalapeno+thingies). My dear friend Sherry studied that recipe, and then searched the far reaches of the World Wide Web to compare other thoughts on the subject. She carefully culled her favorite parts of each recipe and came up with a masterpiece of her very own. They looked great, they smelled amazing, but I was convinced I didn’t like jalapeños, so I was hesitant. And, as it turns out, I was also wrong. Really, really wrong. I wish I could confess to you exactly how many of these tasty morsels I put away that night, but frankly, I lost count. Suffice it to say it was embarrassing, but I just couldn’t stop myself. Then I craved them all the way home. I woke up the next morning still craving them. For someone who began that evening thinking she didn’t like jalapeños I believe that’s what they call a one eighty.
A couple of weeks later we were on vacation, replicating Sherry’s version of this new favorite treat when it dawned on me that using Boursin (garlic & herb version) would be a delicious shortcut for the filling. (I do some of my best thinking on vacation.) So, in the spirit of experimentation, vacation thinking and takings things to the next level, here’s how Bacon Wrapped Jalapeños play out in our house:
15 Jalapeño Peppers (washed, ends trimmed, split lengthwise, seeds & membrane removed)
1 package Boursin Garlic & Herb Cream Cheese at room temperature
15 slices of bacon, cut in half
Soak 30 toothpicks in water in advance. Cover baking sheet with foil, preheat oven to 300 degrees. Fill each pepper half with Boursin, wrap with half slice of bacon, securing bacon with a toothpick. Place assembled peppers on baking sheet. Bake for 42 minutes, turn oven to broil for approximately 3 minutes or until the bacon is crisped up to your personal satisfaction. (We like it really crisp, watch the peppers closely during the broiling phase, you know how pork fat pops when it’s getting happy!)
Settle in on the sofa with a big plate of these babies and you, too, just might discover you like jalapeño peppers after all. Seriously, it happened to me, it could happen to you.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Back To School
This week was my own personal back to school time, but this version of school didn’t require books, buses or backpacks. The only prerequisites were a desire to learn, a healthy appetite and the willingness to get just a tad dirty (actually, in this case, floury).
My return to the classroom is in the form of a three part Italian cooking series I’m taking at Panhandler’s Kitchen, a local kitchen supply shop. First up, Spaghetti Carbonara. I know, Spaghetti Carbonara is consistently presented as a “simple” dish to make, hearty and satisfying, quick and easy. That said, I’ve wanted to make Spaghetti Carbonara for years (really, years) and I’ve been afraid of it. I just couldn’t reconcile myself to getting those eggs blended in properly; I kept envisioning scrambled eggs all beaten up into a pile of spaghetti. So, here was my chance to have a real, live instructor walk me through it. Oh, and did I mentioned we were making the pasta from scratch? Never has back to school been so very cool!
In a class of eight with an instructor who’s philosophy is one should take a recipe and make it their own, there was plenty of time for detailed instruction, insight and hands on learning. Gathered around an oversized butcher block table Chef Nancy first demonstrated, and then talked us through making our pasta dough. Working in teams of two, we eagerly created a miniature Mt. Vesuvius to emulate Chef Nancy’s larger model. The precarious flour walls cradled eggs, salt, oil and water until ooops…there’s a breach in the flour wall and we quickly coax the errant egg back into the volcano. After a bit more coaxing and some enthusiastic kneading it was time to let the dough rest and learn the finer details of various pasta makers.
Then, the coolest part of all, we each took turns at the machine, turning those lumps of dough into beautiful strands of fresh spaghetti. (For the first couple of cranks anyway, after that we were unanimously intrigued with the fettuccine option.) While the pasta was “in production” Chef Nancy continued with making the sauce (what’s not to love about eggs, bacon, salt, pepper, pecorino and heavy cream?!) We discussed traditional vs Americanized touches, as well as myriad personal adjustments we could make to suit our own tastes.
By the time Chef Nancy was gently coating the cooked pasta with the creamy sauce I had lost my fear of Spaghetti Carbonara and started considering what personal spin I might put on this classic when I make it at home.
Next week, ravioli with tomato sauce. I can’t wait to taste the results!
My return to the classroom is in the form of a three part Italian cooking series I’m taking at Panhandler’s Kitchen, a local kitchen supply shop. First up, Spaghetti Carbonara. I know, Spaghetti Carbonara is consistently presented as a “simple” dish to make, hearty and satisfying, quick and easy. That said, I’ve wanted to make Spaghetti Carbonara for years (really, years) and I’ve been afraid of it. I just couldn’t reconcile myself to getting those eggs blended in properly; I kept envisioning scrambled eggs all beaten up into a pile of spaghetti. So, here was my chance to have a real, live instructor walk me through it. Oh, and did I mentioned we were making the pasta from scratch? Never has back to school been so very cool!
In a class of eight with an instructor who’s philosophy is one should take a recipe and make it their own, there was plenty of time for detailed instruction, insight and hands on learning. Gathered around an oversized butcher block table Chef Nancy first demonstrated, and then talked us through making our pasta dough. Working in teams of two, we eagerly created a miniature Mt. Vesuvius to emulate Chef Nancy’s larger model. The precarious flour walls cradled eggs, salt, oil and water until ooops…there’s a breach in the flour wall and we quickly coax the errant egg back into the volcano. After a bit more coaxing and some enthusiastic kneading it was time to let the dough rest and learn the finer details of various pasta makers.
Then, the coolest part of all, we each took turns at the machine, turning those lumps of dough into beautiful strands of fresh spaghetti. (For the first couple of cranks anyway, after that we were unanimously intrigued with the fettuccine option.) While the pasta was “in production” Chef Nancy continued with making the sauce (what’s not to love about eggs, bacon, salt, pepper, pecorino and heavy cream?!) We discussed traditional vs Americanized touches, as well as myriad personal adjustments we could make to suit our own tastes.
By the time Chef Nancy was gently coating the cooked pasta with the creamy sauce I had lost my fear of Spaghetti Carbonara and started considering what personal spin I might put on this classic when I make it at home.
Next week, ravioli with tomato sauce. I can’t wait to taste the results!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
The Communal Table
My sweet husband recently became “preoccupied” with a great price on one of those folding 8’ long tables at Costco. He was right, it was very sturdy (as sturdy as a folding table can be) and the price was definitely right, but it wasn’t something we had been in the market for. He talked about this for days, even planning where we could store the table when it wasn’t in use. I was perplexed by how enthusiastic he was over this table. After about the fourth day I finally said “but, really, we don’t need a folding table. We already have one.” “Yes, but, think about how many people we could feed this way. We could set it up on the deck when the weather’s nice. And think about how many people we could feed!” That’s when it finally dawned on me, it wasn’t the actual physical table that was speaking to him, it was the concept of the communal table that was resonating so strongly.
Some of our very best meals, very best memories have been made around the table with a group of friends. I’m not talking about the biggies (Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter) when you’re expected to host a feast. I’m talking about those glorious gatherings that are purely by choice, fueled by the desire to break bread and linger at the table with great food and great conversation.
If I close my eyes, I can see the image of an evening last October that can only be described as magical. The inspiration behind the night was a brilliant idea; a few couples got together and decided they would each invite a couple they knew, but had not done anything with socially. As an added incentive to mingle, guests were invited to sit anywhere they liked, except not next to their own spouse. Thus began “A Night In Tuscany.” Picture 27 people gathered at one very, very long table on the terrace of a beautiful home. Before you could finish what you had on your plate, the platters, bowls and baskets would make another round. Abundant, delicious food, a happy group of people, the perfect setting, idyllic lighting, it was like a dinner party scene in a movie. Snippets of conversation and laughter, praise for the food, murmurs of “the best dinner party ever” elbow to elbow, bite by bite…the clanking of flatware, plates, and glasses set to the hum of a dozen different conversations punctuated by the swoosh and glug of wine glasses being refilled provided the soundtrack.
Another unforgettable night with friends was a stormy summer evening a few years back. It was just six of us, our friends (who are amazing cooks), their kids and the two of us. No matter, the communal table is about quality, not quantity, don’t you think? Anyway, our friends were preparing the meal and asked us to bring dessert. These friends are always a joy, but this particular night was perfection in every way. We didn’t discuss the menu in advance, but were delighted to read our hosts kitchen chalkboard when we arrived. The menu read “Tequila Lime Chicken, Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes, Haricots Verts,” all Barefoot Contessa recipes. We laughed out loud at our contribution; we brought the Barefoot Contessa’s Brownie Tart. Serendipity! Even as I write this, I can hear the sound of the summer rain falling and taste that first bite of Tequila Lime Chicken. I can’t remember how long we stayed the night, but I’m certain we stayed way too late and loved every minute of it.
Not long after that memorable night, these friends introduced us to another couple who, in turn, gathered all of us around their table for an unforgettable low country boil. As the main attraction was still in process outside they served bacon wrapped jalapenos stuffed with cream cheese. (Trust me; if you think you don’t like jalapenos, these will be a game changer for sure. We’ll talk about that recipe another day.) For the main event they presented a glorious platter laden with shrimp, sausage, potatoes and corn on the cob (seasoned to perfection, of course). We ate and we ate and we ate. We laughed and we talked. There’s something about sharing the bounty of that communal platter that fosters real togetherness. You share more, you laugh louder, and you stay around the table longer to keep the feeling going. I remember the food was incredible, the night was totally relaxing, but most of all, I remember laughing so much that my face actually ached by the end of the evening. Good times, my friends, in fact, the best of times.
Some of our very best meals, very best memories have been made around the table with a group of friends. I’m not talking about the biggies (Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter) when you’re expected to host a feast. I’m talking about those glorious gatherings that are purely by choice, fueled by the desire to break bread and linger at the table with great food and great conversation.
If I close my eyes, I can see the image of an evening last October that can only be described as magical. The inspiration behind the night was a brilliant idea; a few couples got together and decided they would each invite a couple they knew, but had not done anything with socially. As an added incentive to mingle, guests were invited to sit anywhere they liked, except not next to their own spouse. Thus began “A Night In Tuscany.” Picture 27 people gathered at one very, very long table on the terrace of a beautiful home. Before you could finish what you had on your plate, the platters, bowls and baskets would make another round. Abundant, delicious food, a happy group of people, the perfect setting, idyllic lighting, it was like a dinner party scene in a movie. Snippets of conversation and laughter, praise for the food, murmurs of “the best dinner party ever” elbow to elbow, bite by bite…the clanking of flatware, plates, and glasses set to the hum of a dozen different conversations punctuated by the swoosh and glug of wine glasses being refilled provided the soundtrack.
Another unforgettable night with friends was a stormy summer evening a few years back. It was just six of us, our friends (who are amazing cooks), their kids and the two of us. No matter, the communal table is about quality, not quantity, don’t you think? Anyway, our friends were preparing the meal and asked us to bring dessert. These friends are always a joy, but this particular night was perfection in every way. We didn’t discuss the menu in advance, but were delighted to read our hosts kitchen chalkboard when we arrived. The menu read “Tequila Lime Chicken, Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes, Haricots Verts,” all Barefoot Contessa recipes. We laughed out loud at our contribution; we brought the Barefoot Contessa’s Brownie Tart. Serendipity! Even as I write this, I can hear the sound of the summer rain falling and taste that first bite of Tequila Lime Chicken. I can’t remember how long we stayed the night, but I’m certain we stayed way too late and loved every minute of it.
Not long after that memorable night, these friends introduced us to another couple who, in turn, gathered all of us around their table for an unforgettable low country boil. As the main attraction was still in process outside they served bacon wrapped jalapenos stuffed with cream cheese. (Trust me; if you think you don’t like jalapenos, these will be a game changer for sure. We’ll talk about that recipe another day.) For the main event they presented a glorious platter laden with shrimp, sausage, potatoes and corn on the cob (seasoned to perfection, of course). We ate and we ate and we ate. We laughed and we talked. There’s something about sharing the bounty of that communal platter that fosters real togetherness. You share more, you laugh louder, and you stay around the table longer to keep the feeling going. I remember the food was incredible, the night was totally relaxing, but most of all, I remember laughing so much that my face actually ached by the end of the evening. Good times, my friends, in fact, the best of times.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
