Portland bound

Rae,

Angel enjoys walking on the leash, although she prefers keeping to one spot. Basking in direct sunlight and rubbing her back this way and that on the sun-warmed gravelly sidewalk appears to overrule actual walking. Sound a little Chauncey-like? I keep her leash and harness on a nail inside the coat closet by the front door. When I shake them, she comes running. She knows and shows, in dog-like fashion (Shh… We shan’t tell her this.) what’s up. She stands without moving—well, she manages a few flicks of her tail—while I snap the harness in place. Then we’re off to look for dragonflies or bask in the sunshine.

You have joined Second Life. Theory Masala. I like it! So how’s it going? I’m hesitant to add any new online pursuit to my list of social activities. It all requires so much time and keeps me away from the great outdoors and face-to-face relationships. Finding balance is sometimes difficult.

Speaking of time, I don’t have much of it left for puttering about the house and letter-writing—I’m off to Portland now. The AHA Conference is this weekend. I’m pleased to tell you that Joyce Carol Oates will receive the 2007 Humanist of the Year Award.

Catch up with you soon.

Yours truly,
Toni

P.S. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy making a feast out of hardboiled eggs?

22.5.07

Dear Toni,

I’m so glad you recommended this book of letters, The Element of Lavishness, between Sylvia Townsend Warner and our beloved Maxwell. They are a delight! Not only do their cats come up quite a lot, but their talk of their writings is inspiring. I have all these ideas in my head that never make it out. Perhaps, like you, I should try to rise early. It’s a component of Sikhism, yes? And good sense, too, though I’m not sure I’m capable. To bed around 1am and up at 10am has been my routine for as long as I can remember.

It’s raining today. I thought I would be going to the store to get the ingredients for tonight’s risotto, but I absolutely hate going out (especially walking) in the rain. Le Spouse will likely have to swing by the store on his way home from work. Which means we’ll be eating late, since good risotto takes time.

Last night’s dinner was lovely: fennel and blue cheese with penne (recipe in an adjacent post). Not something I’d serve to guests, but my tastebuds had fun! Le Spouse commented that it wasn’t as acidic as the ready-made tomato sauces, and the blue cheese added a nice punch to each bite. In fact, the blue cheese was the crucial ingredient. I enjoyed the leftovers at lunch today.

Right now I’m sipping a lovely Oolong tea that my friend (and tea dealer) Steve brought back from China. It helps me forget the rain.

As always,

rae

penne with fennel, tomato, and blue cheese

1 fennel bulb

225g/8oz/2cups penne pasta

30ml/2tsp olive oil

1 shallot, finely chopped

300ml/1 1/2pints/1 1/4cups passata

pinch of sugar

5ml/1tsp fresh oregano, chopped

115g/4oz blue cheese

(Supposedly serves 2, but we got three plates out of it and could have easily gotten four.)

1. Cut the fennel bulb in half. Cut away the hard core and root. Cut the fennel into thin strips.

2. Cook the pasta.

3. Heat the olive oil in a small saucepan. Add the fennel and shallot and cook for 2-3 minutes over high heat. Do no allow browning.

4. Add the passata or an equivalent amount of canned, crushed tomatoes (which is what I did), sugar, and oregano. Cover the pan and allow to simmer for 10-12 minutes. Toss the pasta and sauce together and top with crumbled blue cheese.

hibiscus punch

Dear Rae,

During Lovers’ Week*, this patron of all sweet things—from people to food—spends chummy time with her loved ones and yields to her desire for rich treats. For Lovers’ Week 2007, I give you: hibiscus punch. From its loverly deep redness, to its rich gingerly goodness, there is absolutely nothing not to love about it.

You may recall that I recorded my own introduction to these blossoms of ruby red gorgeousness in my journal. In case you filed that silly tale in your mind’s catalog drawer co-labeled “experimental food” and “recipe to acquire” (and hopefully not “Toni’s Plum Nuttiness”), I have decided to beat you to the task of asking for instructions (C’mon! Not for the nuttiness!) and simply supply you with the recipe for hibiscus punch.

On the day I was introduced to this punch, a person of Panamanian descent told me it is called “sorrel punch.” On the same day, a Jamaican fellow called it “hibiscus punch.” Needless to say, I was a bit confused at the time. Do keep the following in mind:

Hibiscus (Hibiscus sabdariffa), a plant native to the region stretching from India to Malaysia, is cultivated for the large, ruby red, refreshingly sour, fleshy calyxes of its blossoms. A cousin of okra, which has similar blossoms, hibiscus was brought at an early date to Africa. From there it reached Jamaica at the beginning of the eighteenth century through the slave trade. Although hibiscus has a tartness similar to sorrel and is often called red sorrel, it is not related to that plant. (via CHOW)

If you need a health factoid to boost your motivation to try this recipe, please read Ginger ‘could halt bowel cancer’ (via BBC News). Here’s an excerpt from the article:

Plants of the ginger family have been credited with therapeutic and preventive powers and have been reported to have anti-cancer activity.

The substance called [6]-gingerol is the main active compound in ginger root and the one that gives ginger its distinctive flavour.

These results strongly suggest that ginger compounds may be effective chemopreventive and/or chemotherapeutic agents for colorectal carcinomas.

I’ll catch up with you soon.

Cheers,
Toni

P.S. The Jamaican fellow told me this drink is good with rum. (If used, this intoxicant probably negates the aforementioned health factoid.)

P.P.S. Dried hibiscus flowers can be purchased here. And sorrel from here. No, I’m not trying to confuse you. Both will make nice punches.

*Lovers’ Week: My personal seven-day nod to St. Valentine.

hibiscus punch

8 cups water
1 (3-inch) piece ginger, chopped
2 cups hibiscus flowers
1 cup sugar

In a stockpot bring the water to a rolling boil. Add the ginger and hibiscus flowers and simmer on low heat for 10 minutes. Stir in the sugar and continue to simmer on low heat for 5 minutes. Remove pot from heat and allow liquid to cool. Strain liquid through a mesh sieve into a large pitcher. Refrigerate until well chilled. Then serve.

mushroom mattar

Rae,

The mushroom mattar recipe I am sharing with you today is something I can prepare for my father. He detests fresh cilantro; this recipe produces tasty results without it.

The recipe is adapted from one I found in Madhur Jaffrey’s book, Simple Indian Cookery. I have chosen to work with her version because I like her use of sour cream. Instead of using one medium-sized tomato, she recommends using one tablespoon of tomato purée. I like saucy dishes. A whole tomato, peeled and finely chopped helps me achieve the kind of sauciness I like. I also prefer seeing flecks of red in this dish, though for a smoother, less colorful dish, you can purée the tomato.

Happy cooking,
Toni

mushroom mattar

3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon finely chopped garlic
18 oz white mushrooms, cut lengthways into quarters
2 teaspoons finely grated ginger
2 green chillies, finely chopped
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 medium tomato, peeled and finely chopped
1 teaspoon salt
16 oz green peas (fresh or frozen)
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro (optional)
1/2 cup water
2 tablespoons sour cream

Heat oil in a large non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, add cumin seeds for 10 seconds. Add the garlic, mushrooms, ginger and chillies. Cook, while stirring, for 10 minutes. Add the ground coriander and garam masala and stir for 1 minute. Then put in the chopped tomato, salt, peas, fresh cilantro and water. Cover, turn the heat to low and simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in the sour cream. Cook for a minute, then serve.

Makes 4-6 servings

we like to party

Dear Toni,

I’m still recovering from last Saturday. Stefano’s birthday party was a success, but I spent most of the day cooking and getting ready so I was already tired before anyone arrived. And little did I know that everyone would be there from 8pm to 1:30am! Estonians can party.

So, the food. I made hummus (which is entirely unfamiliar to most Estonians), an onion dip (with kalamata olives and a roasted red pepper), and a baked artichoke dip. To serve with those I cut up carrots, celery, and cauliflower, and put out crackers, chips, and a fluffy lavash for the hummus (I couldn’t find pita anywhere). I also made an extra-large batch of my stuffed mushrooms, which were gone in almost no time. We served three cheeses (brie, blue cheese, and goat gouda), and three kinds of olives (Spanish black, Spanish green with pimentos, and the aforementioned kalamatas). This time I didn’t even have time to take photos.

We had a variety of drinks available. The Marques de Caceres 2000 Rioja Reserva went quickly, and we didn’t have much left of the de Neuville 2004 Cabernet D’Anjou or the Maxime Trijol Pimeau des Charentes at the end of the evening. One friend drank Saku Kuld (Gold), and then most everyone drank Coke and whiskey (we had Ballentine’s, Jack Daniels, and Johhny Walker). I drank mostly water during the course of the evening, but did have one glass of Bicardi and Coke. A few friends (the designated drivers) only drank very early on, because Estonia has a zero tolerance policy (meaning that the legal alcohol limit is strictly 0).

My sister had suggested making Nigella Lawson’s chocolate mousse, so we bought the necessary ingredients and I followed the instructions to a T, but it never set. Part of the problem is that our refrigerator doesn’t get very cold, but some of the cups hadn’t set after a full day so something went wrong. Who knows? I really never make desserts, but I’ve got to find some kind of kick-ass dessert that I can make when necessary.

Anyway, I think we satisfied the sweet tooths with the capucchino we served. I, of course, had tea.

I was reading this Veggie Chic post the other day about microwaves. Did I mention that I haven’t used a microwave in nearly five months? We don’t have one here, and I decided to try life sans microwave before buying one. Well, I’m not going to buy one. The main reason is that we have a small kitchen and a microwave would take up a lot of space. The other reason is that the food I eat tastes better when reheated on the stove or in the oven. A microwave is faster, but I haven’t needed anything faster than the stove or oven. There’s something about the U.S. way of living that makes microwaves seem so necessary, and I couldn’t have imagined life without a microwave before now.

While I can do without a microwave, I couldn’t do without a mixer. I’d been wanting to make hummus for a while (I’ll share the recipe at some point), but couldn’t do it without a mixer. Since space is an issue, and I wanted something to match my kitchen (the appliances are black and brushed metal), and I wanted something multifuctional and relatively powerful that wasn’t too expensive, I had to shop around.

Stefano found this Philips HR 1372 5-in-1, 700w hand mixer for under $100 (plus he got an additional discount because it was his birthday). I’ve always been a sucker for kitchen gadgets, but I’ve already made use of all the attachments so this was a very practical buy. I’m quite pleased!

Ciao for now,

Rae

cooking for friends: a different perspective

Dear Rae,

As I read about your current entertaining quota versus the “just two or three times during the entire three years [you] lived in Florida,” I could not help but feel a spook nudge up against the back of my neck and blow whooo at the backside of my ear. Though a nice apartment helps, may I propose that maybe the spike in the number of your meet-and-greet activities has less to do with the apartment per se, and much to do with local culture?

As you know, I spent last weekend in New York. Late last Saturday night—10:30ish—while wrapping things up at a wonderful gathering of people at one location, one person, without forethought, invited six adults and three small children to gather together at his apartment. This sort of impromptu entertaining is nonexistent in my current local social milieu.

At this second, smaller gathering of friends, I end up talking to someone, who upon learning that I live in Florida, says, Oh, my husband absolutely hates that place! He lived there for 7 months and it was awful. He won’t even go there for a vacation. Her husband’s former Florida residence is far south of Tallahassee and has a greater population than your “old stomping ground.” I was not overly surprised by the comments (I have my own issues), but I did want to find out why the husband found my native home state so unappealing.

I cornered the husband (nicely, calm down) and coaxed him into giving me his reasons. They mirrored my own “issues.” It is the people (behaviors and customs), not the place. Here, a good number of us seem to display similar behaviors: We go from home to work, work to home, stick closely to our husband/wife/children/girlfriend/boyfriend, watch television, talk about television programs, sports and pets, shop at Home Depot and spend our weekends maintaining our yards and our large homes. Oh, and the two-four-week vacation period is like a single shining star in a black sky blanketing a well-traversed desert. Outside of stressed-out, everything-must-be-perfect holiday cooking, when do we cook for friends?

Isolation, or distance from others, renders me a bit empty. Not lonely—just a portion of me not properly filled. If I am at home with myself or with the same beloved people for most of the 365 days of each year, how can I, as the cliché goes, broaden my horizons? If I entertain and allow myself to be entertained, along with my spouse (who has not yet found me), then I/we are doubly “broadened.” Toss my current social climate among memories of social climes of which I have been exposed, and you get a tricky little mix of thoughts all ending with resigned awareness of being caught by the inertia of place.

Do you think that people in Tallinn have fewer behaviors to maintain (lawns to mow and tend, big houses to clean and decorate, television viewing, shopping and driving time), and therefore have more time to spend with others? Do they seem to value friendships nurtured the old-fashioned way—through the tummy? And through cheerful chat?

This is probably far more of an answer than you wanted (especially all the questions), but, given the timing of your letter and my meeting with an anti-Florida friend, I could not help myself. By the way, as my new friend was leaving the apartment, I placed a hand on his shoulder and asked him to please make peace with Florida. I got a good laugh out of him; maybe he and his wife will come down sometime.

Before closing, I thought I would add that when I got home late Monday night, the only fresh ingredients I had on hand was this red pepper and some garlic.

I sliced the pretty red pepper in half and placed it under a pre-heated broiler. I broiled the two pieces until their skins blackened. Then I took them out of the broiler and placed them on a wire rack for cooling. Once touchable, off came their blackened skins. I tossed the pepper in a blender with 3/4 cup of water and blended until smooth.

I heated 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil in a pan and sautéed 3 minced garlic cloves on med-low heat for 3 minutes. Next, I added the pepper puree, 1 teaspoon of crushed red pepper, salt to taste, and 2 tablespoons of plain yogurt. Finally, I reduced the heat and simmered the mixture for about 10 minutes. Since I had angel hair pasta on hand, I served the roasted red pepper sauce on a bed of it, with some dried basil sprinkled on top.

Tip: Do not eat a lot of Angel Hair with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce before falling asleep.

Hey, I am glad you are too busy these days to think about your old stomping (out of frustration?) ground. Keep up with the entertaining; only good things can come from it.

Cheers pal,

Toni

P.S. Two lines I remember from last weekend’s entertainment: 1.) People don’t move to New York to stay at home. 2.) The ‘whys’? That’s why we have philosophy.

baked brandied brie

The one thing I don’t have a photo of. Well, it’s nothing gorgeous anyway, unless you add chopped walnuts or something on top…

Baked Brandied Brie
Serves 6 to 8.

3/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1/4 cup brandy
large, sealed wedge of brie or a small wheel
French baguette

Place brie in oven-safe (and pretty) baking dish, place packed brown sugar on top, and slowly pour the brandy over top of the sugar. Cover dish with plastic and refrigerate for 1-2 hours (though you can skip this step if you’re pressed for time).
Preheat oven to 400*F (205*C). Remove brie from refrigerator, unwrap and discard plastic. Bake for 10 to 15 minutes or until sugar begins to crystallize or bubble on top of the brie. Cool slightly and serve with French baguette slices.

cooking for friends

Dear Toni,

Ah, Tallahassee. Rarely do I think of the place, but there are certain areas I don’t at all mind recalling. Black Dog, Samrat, Mon Pere et Moi, Higher Taste. Hmm. All food places. I suppose I’ve been too busy to think of my old stomping ground. Busy entertaining guests, which is something I did just two or three times during the entire three years I lived in Florida. The apartment makes all the difference!

How often do you entertain guests? I’d say that in the four months I’ve been here, we’ve already had guests over more than a dozen times. The days friends come over are cooking days. Well, cooking and cleaning. If I haven’t planned the menu, I’ll do so, make a shopping list, and make a run with YK to the grocery store. Sometimes YK goes by himself, which leaves me with enough time to clean the apartment and prep any ingredients that I already have.

Last weekend I made a vegetable soup (combining two recipes: one for Vegetable Stock and one for Creamy Mushroom Soup). The stock recipe said to throw out the vegetables after creating the stock, but I couldn’t bear to throw all those tender veggies away. I also made my classic Spinach Quiche (minus the mayo and onion). Unfortunately, our guests brought an unpleasant Rioja that we drank out of politeness.

This weekend I made the always-popular Baked Brandied Brie (recipe in a separate post), plus Baked Fennel (I used regular milk and sour cream), and a Leek/Onion Tart (I modified the recipe by using 1 leek, 1 yellow onion, and 1/2 a shallot, vermouth instead of white wine, and goat cheese instead of feta, plus 1 extra egg). Our guests brought a decent Chianti (YK’s favorite varietal). We wrapped up the evening with a pot of Jade Snow tea, a Chinese green.

At some point I’ll start remembering to take photos before the guests dig in.

Best,
Rae

t’s tea time

Dear Rae,

So good to hear from you!

Why were you drinking Coke during your language lessons? Was it for the caffeine? And how do you manage to drink anything anyway? As part of your “intensive learning” session, aren’t you talking rather intensely? With the switch to Jasmine Green tea, especially the “nicely warming” part, you might discover a properly energized you, a you who is ready to absorb and spout all sounds Estonian.

Dare I ask… I do dare: Have you been able to find C2 in Tallinn?

Lovely tea pot, my dear. Your “new best friend” has a very good eye for assessing your taste—just look at that pot! Its gorgeous texture is yearning to be appreciated by more than just your eyes and hands. I’m ready to join you, the pot and… her. Is it a “her”? It must be a “her.” Only “hers” are so good at gifting comfort items. Well, minus your “her” in Tallahassee. Sorry. I’ll try to remember next time.

Your “tea dealer.” Hmm. I understand. I’ve got a candy dealer. Dentist too. I can’t promise you “more on that later”—candy man is under wraps. Do share more about your own particular dealer; I’m most curious. Is he coming to your place? I completely understand your need to accessorize. Does YK know about this relationship?

The paraphernalia of a single hard core tea drinker: water-stained kettle, coffee mug from my (used to be “our”) favorite hang-out-and-chill joint, baggie of black tea (see string?), spoon, spice mix (I make my own masala these days, but when I’m lazy, this does the trick.), whole organic milk (full fat for richness), and sugar to taste.

Do you like how I’m hiding behind the flash? The white object reflected on the right side of the pot is Angel’s penthouse. Nice capture, eh? My fated husband (should he materialize during this lifetime), will win my heart by promising to keep my kettle shiny. I do not seem to have the patience nor the elbow grease necessary to keep it looking presentable for company. Oh, and this kettle is the only tea pot in my possession. (Like to keep things simple.) I got it at a store on Broadway, near Prince Street, in New York for less than five dollars a couple of years ago. If you’re gifting any time soon, keep stationery in mind—the pen pals I’ve made through Postcrossing have me fairly busy.

Rae, unless I’m off gallivanting (i.e., traveling), I drink at least five cups of the same generic black tea every day. The only other “varietal” I’ve “gotten into” is Assam tea—a black tea. This indulgence came after having one of the best cups of cha (Punjabi for “tea”) on the day I was chased by a frightened bull elephant while in the back of a white maruti jeep whose driver couldn’t make a fast enough getaway for his or my good comfort. (Hey, I didn’t scare the elephant! He was frightened and very confused by the controlled burn taking place in his home, Kaziranga National Park.) I’m not sure if it was the tea itself or my many, many thanks to God for sparing my life that day in Assam, but I sure got hooked on the tea. It’s a very strong (like one’s survival instinct) tasting tea. When I make it—now I’ll make you happy—I use loose leaves.

You and I should visit Assam together some day. That is, if YK approves. (Are we having a Single Girl/Married Girl moment?) Aw-shucks, he can come too.

I went out to Lake Ella yesterday and passed by Black Dog Café.

Cheers Inchworm!

Toni

P.S. I might have a “new best friend” too.