My happiest moment is when I prepare a glass of hot, strong tea, and then sit down with it to read, think or write a letter. I’ve become a fanatical devotee of Earl Grey, which in England, as everyone knows, is consumed only by little old ladies during afternoon tea parties, and which the English tea lover scorns as a perfumed, old-maidenish drink. …Václav Havel, Letters to Olga  

Ha! Havel bucked tradition in many things – not just tea, but the politics of his country (he was the first elected president of the Czech Republic and the above line is from a letter he wrote to his wife, Olga; he died in 1992). 

I was so happy the other morning – it was cool enough at about 10 am that I craved a pot of Earl Grey tea. The scent of the oil of bergamot in Earl Grey is what draws me to it. And I drink it with both milk and sweetener. The house still had that chilly edge. It’s been unseasonably cool here in Southern California for the last week (thank you, Lord!). Normally September is our hottest month, and I dread it. Our summer has been unusually humid – most mornings the humidity is up in the 80-90% range. The dense air dries out a bit later in the day, but we’re just not used to this sweating routine. I mean – we’re dry, desert terrain, you know? But when the weatherman said we’d be having temps in the 60’s and 70’s for a few days, I didn’t believe him. But he was right. I l-oved it. Every minute of it. Weather for a cuppa.  So, Mr. Havel, I salute you.

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When I saw this roast chicken being prepared on Martha’s TV show the other day, it just made my mouth water. Usually a sign that I need to cook that dish. Roast chicken is so easy. And it was. The recipe comes from Jean-Georges Vonderichten, the famous chef. Martha was rapturous about the potatoes, but I thought the chicken was pretty good too. Not off the charts unusual, but it was very good. I’m always willing to try some new method of chicken, aren’t you?

What’s different about this chicken is that it’s laid on top of a bed of chunked-up peeled potatoes. The bird is put on her side. And she’s stuffed with half of a HEAD of garlic, some fresh herbs, the chicken liver, and she’s baked high – 450 – for about an hour or more. She gets turned on her other side after 20 minutes, then laid onto her back for the final roasting. She’s golden brown by that time (not surprising at that temp). The meat – including the breast meat – was succulent and moist. That’s always my test of a good roast chicken. And the potatoes. Well, what can I say. They were delicious but not memorable, but then most vegetables rolled around with butter, oil and the fat from a chicken will become nicely browned and delicious too.

Following the recipe was easy – there’s not that much to it – potatoes, some oil and butter, and the stuffed chicken. I put about 2 T. oil and butter in the roasting pan for the potatoes, and I slathered a bit of oil on the bird (no butter). I just couldn’t quite bring myself to use more than that.
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As I opened up my kitchen drawer yesterday (pictured above), the drawer closest to my cook top, it occurred to me that maybe I should explain again what Tasting Spoons is all about. Not my philosophy. You can figure that out! It’s about where the name came from. So gather ’round my cherubs and listen to the story. Some of you know it or have read it before. I’m nostalgic today, so the story is worth repeating, but in a bit more detail.

My DH (dear husband Dave) and I both are only children. Neither of us felt deprived as we grew up – how could we, with our parents’ undivided attention – maybe sad for our children that they don’t have aunts and uncles – but it is what it is. Dave’s dad passed away many years ago – years before I met Dave in 1981. His dear mother died in the mid-1990’s, back in his home town of Ocean City, New Jersey. With help from a cousin and friend, we went through her household of stuff and decided what to keep, what to ship, what to give away. We shipped a variety of kitchen things and dishes. And we kept all of her silver. She had a couple of sets (plate and sterling). And a bunch of old family silverware pieces – some that are so large they’re unwieldy to use, and they must be silver plate since all the shiny silver is gone. Likely I’ll never use them, but we’ll pass them on to our kids and let them decide what to do with them.

But, in with the myriad of pieces in one silverware chest I found some small, delicate spoons. With various engraved initials in flowing script – some we can’t descern the letters, they’re so engraved with flourish. They’re likely tea spoons. There are a couple of different types and most of them were well used with dents and scratches. Most were unattractive because the silver was spotty in places. They are sterling, because they have the sterling mark on the backs, but they’re very light weight and pliable. I don’t know enough about the chemistry of sterling silver flatware to understand. Most sterling is very heavy. Maybe somebody reading this will enlighten me.

So, jump forward about ten years. Dave’s mother’s sister Louise passed away. She lived in Gloucester, Massachusetts, and had no children. Nevertheless, we were surprised to learn that Dave was her heir. She had married quite late in life, but divorced when she was in her late 60’s, I think it was. Prior to and after the divorce she was close with her former step-children and their children. But then, her ex, at about age 89 or so, remarried the maid. The maid that Louise had hired when she “ran” the house. The family was a bit torn – they cared for Louise – but the family wealth had come from the ex, the blueblood patriarch of the family, so the children and adult grandchildren weren’t about to snub this new “grandmother.” And Louise, after all, was a step-mum or step-grandmother herself. Thus began a saga worthy of a soap opera.

Louise had planned to leave her estate to the grandchildren, but prior to a family baby shower the new wife, the maid, was invited (she was, after all, married to the grandfather of the family and was taking care of the crotchety old guy). Louise got her back up. A big snit followed and Louise refused to go to any further family gatherings if “that woman” was going to be there. The family said yes, she was going to be included.  Louise believed these family members were traitors to her. No amount of talking or discussing would change her mind, apparently. She gnawed on it until it ate a hole in her soul, I’m afraid. So, she changed her will (and didn’t mention it to Dave). And had planned to change it more and remove all the grandchildren from her will, but hadn’t done it officially. Some of those grandchildren did get a small bequest. As her only blood relative, Dave inherited what was left of her estate, with bequests to both of his children too. Her household stuff, furniture, and some stocks and bonds. We were surprised and grateful. Some of those ex-relatives attended the memorial service (slipping in late and leaving early). Likely Louise was screaming from the heavens to refuse them admittance. Some were noticeably absent. What wicked webs we weave sometimes, eh?

So, once again, we traveled to the east coast and sorted and purged and planned the memorial service (which she specifically didn’t want, but her close friends pleaded with us to do it anyway – for them they said, so we did). Most everything was handled by an attorney/executor. We stayed at Louise’s home for a few days while we decided what was worth saving, shipping, etc. Our son got a lovely old table. We couldn’t actually pack anything – the executor was quite officious about it all because the house she was living in belonged to Louise’s ex-husband. But he’d died at about age 101, so it belonged to the family estate.

It was a lovely home, with a gorgeous view of the inlet and marsh near Gloucester. The ex had to buy the house for her as part of the divorce and she was allowed to live in it until her death, then it reverted to him or his estate. So anyway, Dave and I marked things and moved them into a separate pile to be shipped. A variety of art (mostly original watercolors) was included too. And a lovely antique music box from Austria that Louise bought in Vienna on her honeymoon, she said. We didn’t get one painting that I really wanted because Louise’s attorney insisted it had been promised to her, even though it wasn’t in the will. (The attorney’s partner was the executor, and he ruled in her favor.) My DH is quite partial to all of the paintings, some likely worth something to a knowing buyer, I suppose. And, we also earmarked Louise’s silver. It wasn’t until the shipment arrived (months and months later after probate was completed) that I discovered a bunch of spoons in one of the chests. I was tickled pink. I put them with the others and found many similar ones to Dave’s mother’s. They must have been from the two sister’s parents and their families. But these spoons had been replated, so they’re sparkly shiny and in excellent condition. Those are the ones I use most of the time. I polish them every few months and try not to dip them in egg or tarnish producing mayo.

I use these spoons every single day. Or, every single day that I cook. They’re right handy by the stove. The spoons are used and treasured, and I think about Dave’s mother Helen and his Aunt Louise nearly every time I reach for one. I’m certain they’d both be very happy that they’re being appreciated. And that they’d become the namesake of my blog.

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Do you have a bunch of basil plants nearing their wilting end? I never know what to do with copious amounts of basil, except for pesto, so here’s your chance. Read on . . .

It’s only been a month or so that I’ve been Tivo-ing Martha Stewart’s TV show. Considering all the problems she’s had over the last several years, her short prison sentence, losing her job as CEO of Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia, Martha perseveres. And that woman’s got talent, I must say. Sometimes she stumbles a bit (whether it’s from the teleprompter or just forgetting her lines I don’t know), over one thing or another, but she has managed to get a whole lot of chefs to come on her show. Not so many Hollywood stars or starlets (although she gets a fair number of those too). They’ve been doing re-runs over the summer, I guess, but likely they chose the best shows to run again.

So, one day this week she had several French chefs on board, all cooking in her roomy back kitchen, and one by one they came out to the front kitchen to cook with Martha. Another thing Martha has is lots of kitchen skills. So I have to laugh when she takes the sous-chef role and the chefs tell her what to do. My guess is Martha’s got a lot of management skills too. Seems to me I read that while she was in prison she wrote notebook after notebook of ideas for her houses and the tv/radio shows. Most likely Martha’s got those kind of brain cells that just work in overdrive. I used to read her blog, but got overloaded on composts and crafts. Some of her photos were interesting, though. Now, somebody else is CEO of Martha’s company. I continue to wonder (wish I could be a little fly in the board room) how the board and CEO share the helm with Martha’s commanding presence in the background. The shareholders wanted her ousted after she was under suspicion. Maybe one day she’ll be promoted back to CEO.

But, I digressed there. Two of the chefs on the show did chicken and one did salmon. I printed out two of those, and also this spinach and basil side dish that sounded so different. You know me, if you put some food items together that don’t traditionally go together, I’m intrigued. As I was with this recipe. Tomorrow I’ll post the recipe for the chicken. Both of these recipes are from Jean-Georges Vonderichten, the rather famous chef of about 17 restaurants worldwide (notably New York and Las Vegas). He was born in the Alsace (the German edge of eastern France) and started cooking at a young age.

Confession time: I made a whole bunch of changes to this recipe, but it was really delicious. And yes, I’ll make it again. It’s easy – and you could do this for a company meal since you can get everything ready ahead of time (except chopping the basil). It doesn’t take but a few minutes to cook. I will indicate my changes in the recipe, but I’ll give you the chef’s recipe as it was shown.

This calls for equal quantities of spinach and basil. You might think that putting that much basil with a vegetable would overwhelm, but it didn’t. Of course, I didn’t use as much as the recipe indicated either, but the basil moves from co-star billing to bit part once it’s cooked. You can tell there’s basil in it, but that’s all. And the cream gives it a lovely softness.
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Lately I’ve been on a roll with salsas. There’s no question, I enjoy salsa of most varieties – except canned and ready-made grocery store types. We have one independent market near us, Pacific Ranch Market, which makes fabulous homemade salsa every day. Usually we rely on theirs – it’s so good – and already prepared.

But this time, we were going out for the evening on a Duffy Boat. You know of these things? Cute little electric-powered boats that hold oh, 8-12 people mostly. The driver sits in the rear seat and everybody else kind of sits around the edges. This one had clear plastic windows, but the cool evening breeze flowed in the front as we maneuvered all around Newport Harbor for two hours. From the picture at the right, you can see Cherrie and Joan, as we were cruisin’ and talkin’. We had lots of fun. My DH drove the boat most of the time – as he was the most experienced on the water, since he’s owned a sailboat since he was 7. There were eight of us – I may have mentioned this group before – we call ourselves the HGG – Healthy Gourmet Group. Initially we were eating really, truly, healthy food, but the group decided to think this again – so we try to choose lower-fat ingredients if we can. If we can’t, well, so be it. But we still call ourselves HGG anyway.

I was the front-man on this – I made the arrangements – so I suggested we bring heavy appetizers or finger food. The menu came together so fast I couldn’t believe it. Cherrie said she’d make some wraps (both turkey and ham). Joan would bring skewers of fresh fruit. I’d make some other kind of hearty appetizer, and Sue would bring dessert (brownies with Chambord in them) and coffee. Each couple brought a bottle of wine (one white, three reds). We tootled around the harbor for two hours, ate good food, drank good wine, and had hilarious fun talking.

Going through my appetizer repertoire (that I haven’t already blogged about, that is) I spotted this recipe for avocado and shrimp salsa. Very hearty. And absolutely delicious. I have no recollection where this recipe came from, but I’ve altered so much over the years that it no longer resembles the original version anyway. So it’s as good as “my” recipe. And note, there’s not a single bit of oil or fat in this except what little natural fat there is in some foods, provided by Mother Nature.
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Here in California, eggplant can always be found, year around, at our local markets. Probably because of our close proximity to Mexico, where the bulk of the eggplant crops are raised. Several states in the U.S. also grow it, but it’s a minor crop. The information here comes from Russ Parsons’ book, How to Pick a Peach, a definitive tome all about the more popular fruits and vegetables we eat here. I found the book so fascinating, I’m sharing chapters of it with you when I have time to write it up.

Lots of people apparently think eggplant is bitter; hence it’s not an overly popular vegetable. Parsons debunks that – says eggplant isn’t bitter. I’d agree. Technically, it’s a fruit. Did you know that? I didn’t.

What I learned:

• The sponge-like texture of its pulp will absorb whatever you cook with it, whether it’s oil, garlic, broth, or?

• Salting eggplant does nothing to remove any bitterness (which really isn’t there, but people think it is), but it does pull water out of the fruit, collapsing the cells, which then absorb oil more easily during cooking.

• It’s a myth that salting will prevent the eggplant from absorbing as much oil in frying.

• There are over 56 varieties of eggplant out there, and its origin is in Burma. It’s a staple food in India, China, Southeast Asia, much of Africa and the Mediterranean.

• Eggplants vary in how thick their skin is and how seedy they are (the big globe ones are the seediest), and they vary in the exact texture of the flesh.

How to choose them:

• They’re fragile – they bruise easily.

• Buy them heavy for their size, and the skin should be taut and almost bulging.

• Eggplant HATE cold. They should NOT be stored at lower than 45 degrees F (most refrigerators are between 35-40 degrees).

• Keep them as dry as possible (moisture will cause water damage) – ideally put them in a plastic bag with a paper towel. They’ll keep up to a week that way.

• Eggplant can be peeled or not. And only salt it if you’re going to FRY it.

Russ Parsons included four recipes in his book: Smoky Eggplant Bruschetta, Silky Eggplant Salad (a steamed version that he says produces a really smooth flesh), and Grilled Eggplant with Walnut Cilantro Pesto. He also details a quick grill version: cut the eggplant lengthwise into 1/2-inch thick slices. Brush both sides with garlic-flavored oil and continue brushing during the cooking. Grill just until tender – trying not to char it. When done, transfer to a heated platter and as its subsequent slices are done, stack them on top of one another.

I’ve posted about eggplant a few times here, notably one of my very favorite appetizers: Layered Hummus and Eggplant. And a few months ago I posted a recipe for a Sweet, Sour & Spicy Eggplant.

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Eating good-old ground beef isn’t something we do very often anymore. Just because it’s higher in fat, I guess. I grew up eating beef – ground, chopped, roasts, stews, liver – often. My Dad didn’t like chicken, turkey or lamb. So we ate a lot of beef and pork. When we’d go out to dinner my mother and I would frequently order chicken. We also ate almost no fish. Back then (this was in the late 1940’s and 50’s) you couldn’t buy fresh fish in the markets. It’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Tuna was available in cans, and shrimp, I think. And here, I grew up in San Diego which has a very large Portuguese population – many of them were deep sea fishermen by trade. But they caught tuna – for canning. That was it. Then. How things have changed!

The story of my dad’s chicken aversion is a sad but interesting one. Growing up, my dad was in charge of the farm chickens. It was part of his chores, to clean out the coop, gather the eggs, feed them, water them, etc. And he kind of got attached to the young rooster. His name was Sammy. My dad thought Sammy was very bright, as chickens go. And Sammy would come to my dad whenever he went into the coop. Anyway, my dad was about 10-11 years old at the time, his parents were helping out a man who needed work. If he’d do some chores around the barn, he could eat dinner with the family at the end of the day. The man had finished his chores and came to the house and asked the missus (my dad’s mother, Bessie) if there was anything else he could do. She said yes, go get one of the chickens and kill it, remove the innards, the feathers, etc. and she’d be fixing it for dinner. So, the worker went out to the chicken coop and killed and dressed a chicken. The family sat down to dinner and everybody was marveling at the delicious chicken. The day worker said, “you know, it was the funniest thing, when I went into the coop, this chicken just came right up to me, so I just killed him then and there!” My dad started to gag. Uh, yes, the worker had killed my dad’s pet rooster, Sammy. And from that day on, my dad could barely eat chicken. As a kid, the thought that he’d already swallowed some of Sammy’s flesh was abhorent. Bessie felt terrible about what had happened – she’d forgotten to tell the man not to kill the young rooster! Even telling that story in his 70’s, my dad would get teary. So, from that day forward whenever chicken was served, if it was all there was, my dad might eat a bite, but that was it. It just wouldn’t go down. And my mother never served chicken unless my dad was away on a business trip.

Well, there, another bit of trivia about my family. So, back to ground beef. I think I’ve mentioned it here before that during the 1960’s and 70’s, when I was a young woman, a housewife, ground beef was a real weekly staple. I made ground beef casseroles by the dozens. When I was young, my mother used to make tamale pie every couple of weeks. My dad particularly loved that. And a half a pound of ground beef could feed our family for at least two dinners.

This recipe is one I found in Sunset magazine, back in the 1970’s, based on the age of the lined paper I typed it on. Over the years I’ve changed it just a little bit – some different proportions of things, but the basic recipe hasn’t changed much, so all the credit goes to the magazine. It’s the onions that make this. Unfortunately, you can’t make this dinner in 30 minutes, quite. The onions alone take 20-25 all by themselves.

First you slice up the onions. The recipe calls for one onion apiece, which is about right. You sauté them in some oil and butter and set them aside. You form normal ½-inch thick beef burgers, dip them in some flour, then you sauté the burgers in the same pan – you want them to still be pink in the middle if possible. Once they’re done, you remove them and cook up the sauce (a bit of cream and Worcestershire sauce). You pile the onions on the burger and drizzle some of the sauce on top. My DH just about licked the plate. That’s always a good sign. I hadn’t made this in probably 25 or more years. They’re really quite easy. So if you’re tired of chicken, and enjoy ground beef in many guises, this might be a new version for you.
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Here it is, toward the end of summer, and after the nice Asian-influenced dinner the other night, I wanted to serve something with a slight Asian flavor. Ginger ice cream came to mind. Immediately I went to my favorite ice cream cookbook – The Perfect Scoop, by David Liebovitz. If you’re interested in other food blogs and want to read a very entertaining one, you might check out David’s blog. He’s an American, worked for some years at Chez Panisse, Alice Waters’ famous restaurant in Berkeley, California. Then he moved to Paris, and it’s from his small apartment there that he wrote this most recent ice cream cookbook.

This ice cream has more cooking steps than many – certainly more than my very favorite lemon velvet ice cream that I make now and then. And it took longer to make everything than I’d hoped. But in the big picture, it was worth the effort, to get that very smooth and subtle ginger flavor without adding the straight stuff into the custard.

After performing all the steps (blanching the ginger, steeping it in milk, thickening it up with the egg yolks to make a custard, chilling it in an ice bath, then freezing it in the ice cream machine) I thought it needed just another little boost of ginger flavor. It was not in Liebovitz’ recipe, but I added crystallized ginger to the finished product. Providing the crystallized ginger is minced into itty, bitty pieces, it freezes nicely, providing a little ginger burst. I also substituted some of Trader Joe’s fat-free half and half for the milk and cream. Not only does it lower the richness, but it makes the scooping of the hard-frozen ice cream easier. There must be something in that product that makes a softer finished product. I don’t know what it is, but every time I do that, it’s easier to scoop. Home made ice cream has that fault – if you will – that with using the pure, unadulterated cream and milk, when it’s frozen, it’s f-r-o-z-e-n. Hard. Normally I have to leave the container out for 10 minutes or so to even begin to scoop a serving.

When you serve this, don’t overwhelm it with other prominent flavors (like a chocolate chip cookie) as the ginger flavor really is very subtle. You want to savor it. Enjoy.
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When I think South Seas, I think Caribbean, not Asia. And yet, this salsa is titled South Seas. Maybe Hugh Carpenter, the creator of this recipe, was thinking more of South China Seas. That would be more logical since it contains ingredients that might be more Vietnamese or Thai-like. But, whatever it is, I was blown away by its flavor. I liked it a lot. It’s very similar to a traditional Mexican salsa, but it has some elusive tastes (probably the fish sauce, the basil) that blend in beautifully with the regular ingredients (tomatoes, onions, cilantro, garlic, lime juice). Our son said I should have served this with rice crackers (do they make rice chips?). But I had tortilla chips. And hey, we’re Southern California. We can serve this with corn-based chips! That’s fusion, right?

My daughter Dana was helping in the kitchen, so I assigned her this task. It came together quickly, especially if you have an Alligator Chopper to mince the tomatoes. But it can be made in the food processor easily enough too. I’ll be making this again, to go along with the right meal. The recipe comes from Hugh Carpenter’s book Chopstix – his take on quick Asian food. If you aren’t enamored with fish sauce, substitute soy sauce. I liked the fish sauce in it. When you smell bottled fish sauce, it’s nothing short of awful. But I’ve learned over the years that it’s a necessity for several Asian cuisines, and it pops up now and then in other recipe places. So I always keep it on hand. I recently bought my second bottle of it – it’s taken me over 15 years to use up the first bottle, so you can see I don’t use it all that often. And, you never use very much of it anyway.
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Now don’t get all squirrely on me – some of you may read that title and think – oh no – that sounds awful! Not so. This is actually a cold side dish with an Asian influence. It’s healthy (lots of spinach) and can stand in as a pasta or a salad. So, don’t just delete this and move on. Read through and at least see what’s in this!

It had been some years since I’d made this salad. Well, actually, the dish is supposed to be a hot side, but with ribs and a green salad on a warm summer evening, I wanted a cold salad. So I took a recipe I’ve made before, adapted it a bit and made it a cold dish. Hugh Carpenter is a master of combining Asian condiments and making them into deliciousness for salads or side dishes. I perused my pantry to make sure I had the necessities (spaghetti, pine nuts, garlic, basil, cream and hot chili sauce). Onto my grocery list went the rest: fresh spinach, chives, and cilantro. My daughter, Dana, made this for me, for a family dinner the other night.

This recipe comes from Hugh Carpenter’s book Pacific Flavors, his first cookbook. He was on the cooking school circuit, as I recall, and I bought the book at one class he taught in Pasadena in 1988. Everything he prepared in the cooking class was outstanding. I’ve mentioned him before in some of my recipes – particularly the New Wave Garlic Bread (relatively traditional garlic bread but with an Asian twist), the fabulous Baby Back Ribs with Peanut Butter Slather (I mean, that explains it all, doesn’t it?), another great side dish of his called Tex-Mex Jicama Salad. And then, my all-time favorite Carpenter dish, the Grilled Ribeyes with Amazing Glaze. And I just blogged about the other pork ribs, the All-Star Asian Ribs. So, I suppose you could say I’m a fan of Hugh Carpenter’s cooking style. I own three of his cookbooks – the one mentioned here, also Hot Barbecue (a more recent one) and Chopstix (his take on “quick” Asian food). All of his dishes, though, are untraditional Asian. They’re Pan-Asian, or Pan-Californian, or Fusion. Whatever you want to call it. He uses all the different condiments and spices from multiple Asian cuisines and combines them into fresh foods with a California kind of flair.

So, this dish . . . it’s nothing but cold noodles tossed with a garlicky spinach sauce. The spinach is whirred (liquified) in the food processor along with a few other ingredients and poured over the noodles before serving with a generous amount of toasted pine nuts on top. That’s it. All of it can be done ahead except combining the noodles and the sauce. If you like a hint of Asia and want something a tad different, this is your ticket.
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