Poutine: /puːˈtiːn/ (noun) Canadian dream on a plate.

Ah, birthdays. Not that I actually wanted to "celebrate" celebrate... just a night off from cooking, grab a bite with my guys, etc.  So, we went to the Comet Cafe and lo and behold... the specials blackboard pulled me into its orbit with the offering that shone like St. Peter with a halo: Duck Confit Poutine.  Yes, you read that right.  Duck confit + fontina curds + beer gravy + fries = happiness. 

Sometimes it doesn't take a lot to make things right with the world.  Happy Birthday, indeed.

"Planking"... the other kind.

Yesterday was "Boy2 and Daddy Day"... Monday will be "Boy2 and Mommy Day" since his school is closed for a self-imposed holiday/furlough until Tuesday. Being that it was about 5 degrees outside and we got about 6" of snow, it probably wasn't a bad idea that school was closed. The actual bad idea was that I asked the Husba to go to Whole Foods today because they were having a wild sockeye salmon sale ($7.99lb!!). C'mon... that's a steal. Terrible roads and snow notwithstanding.

OK, I admit I shouldn't have asked him to go clear on the other side of the city just to buy salmon, but they only seem to have sales like this on Fridays (what, nobody works?!?) and well, he was home anyway... I will say that I had the most delicious dinner. Thanks, hon.

I ended up using my standard BBQ dry rub - usually reserved for ribs and other grill items, it was wonderful on the salmon. I happen to have some grilling planks (alder, cedar, maple and the like) so I grabbed the cedar plank and pretended I lived in Seattle again. I used to eat salmon like this all the time but for some reason I've neglected buying this lovely fish since moving to Milwaukee. Let's just say it's probably a bad idea to use the planks indoors (yes, I soaked it) because it completely overtook our tiny house with the smell of burning cedar. And not in a good way. It smelled like my college dorm where everyone would burn Nag Champa and hang Indian tapestries on the walls. Nevertheless, it sure was tasty.

Dry Rub Recipe:

1/4 c internet search

3T googling for BBQ dry rub

1T deciding on whose recipe to use because mine's a secret!

Winter Harvest

Boooo. Two whole posts in 2011. C'mon already - let's get this puppy back in gear!

Now that the holidays are over, I'm thinking fresh. Not "juice cleanse" or "tofu-palooza" fresh, but I haven't been to the Milwaukee County Winter Farmer's Market in about two months so I'm starting to crave some tasty winter veggies. Which, in Milwaukee, means root vegetables or something from the cabbage family. I have a few subscriptions to food magazines and I'm pretty sure at least 2 or 3 have included a Cauliflower Steak recipe this month. Not sure what they're trying to do with that, but I definitely don't need to pretend my cauliflower is steak. Cauliflower is awesome all on its own - whether it's roasted until nutty and crisp around the edges or smooth and creamy in a soup. One of my favorite recipes is from the West Town Tavern in Chicago and involves horseradish, mustard and cream. Which is never a bad thing.

Cauliflower Gratin

2 heads cauliflower
1 Tablespoon olive oil
1/2 cup minced, peeled shallot
2 cups heavy cream
1 Tablespoon Grey Poupon mustard
1 1/2 teaspoons prepared horseradish
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 Tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/2 cup dried breadcrumbs
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Cut the cauliflower into small florets. Chop the stems fine and reserve separately. Blanch the florets in salted, boiling water until tender. Drain, shock in ice water and reserve.

Heat the olive oil in a saute pan and saute the shallots until very tender. Add the chopped cauliflower stems and the cream. Bring to a boil, lower heat and simmer until stems are very soft. Puree in a blender and season the cream with the Grey Poupon mustard, the horseradish, nutmeg, rosemary, salt and pepper.

Mix the seasoned cauliflower cream with the florets. Butter a pan 9"x13"x2" and scrape the cauliflower into the pan, spreading evenly. Sprinkle the breadcrumbs and Parmesan cheese evenly over the gratin.

Bake 350° about 20-25 minutes until the top is golden and the gratin is bubbling. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Bento attempt #1... it's lunchtime!

Today, Boy2 started K-4 at a brand new school. He was soooo excited! So was I, since I decided that the city-wide lunch program was pretty gross and I declared I would make a lunch for him every day. Not just a lunch... a bento lunch. That's right, I don't have enough to do with a full-time job and running around, but I also swore I'd make fun lunches for my kid. Idiot.

I'll say this - the school sent out a lunch calendar with a series of photos proclaiming "same great lunch... different packaging!". With a mystery-fried-meat-patty, powdered mashed potatoes, congealed gravy and some sort of canned or frozen grey vegetable. Oh, and an apple. Honestly, Boy2 would probably just eat the apple. He's the only kid I know who doesn't like potatoes. Fries? Sure... mashed, roasted, baked, au gratin, etc.? Nope. So here I am, committed to making a nutritious and fun-looking lunch every. single. day.

Last night at 10pm, I hastily threw together said lunch (yes, I've known about the first day of school for a LONG TIME)... I'm busy. :) And I forgot to take a photo. So for day 2 I'll try to document my "bento-like" attempts at lunch. Keep in mind, I'm not trying to send a vegetable still life work of art. Just lunch. That he'll actually eat.

Today's offerings:

water bottle, half frozen
milk money ($0.35)
container 1: ham pinwheels (tortilla, ham & enough cream cheese to hold it together/rolled up and cut like sushi)
container 2: cherry tomatoes & cheese flowers (our garden tomatoes w/marble jack cheese cut into flower shapes and skewered)
container 3: bing cherries, raisins, an apricot and a small cup of graham bunnies w/2 Hersheys drops. (cookies & cream)
2 ice packs
napkin

Not a bad first attempt - I wish I took a picture.

Oh happy day - it's State Fair time! The Wisconsin State Fair starts tomorrow and while I don't necessarily subscribe to "jam it on a stick and call it good" food, we look forward to going every year. On deck for 2011: deep fried butter. I know... I don't know what it is, either. And I'm not going anywhere near it. Nor am I partaking in last year's phenom: the Krispy Kreme Burger. Or was is the chocolate-covered bacon? I don't know - it was deep fried. The gyros and souvlaki at the Apollo tent are more my speed... washed down with a nice local brew from the micro tent. Actually, I think the first AND last stop will be at the micro tent - before heading over to the midway to watch Boy2 go nuts on the rides.

And I'll be saving a little room for a cream puff.

Baking Blitz

I've been on a baking frenzy the past two weeks: ciabatta, scones, focaccia, soft pretzels, whole wheat flaxseed bread, pastry dough, pizza dough, hand pies, peanut butter-filled chocolate chocolate chip oatmeal cookies... ACK! The thing is? I. DON'T. BAKE.

No, really. I don't.

I can't say what prompted the change of heart, but I used to be terrified of making yeasted breads. Quick breads? Fine. Cookies? No problem. Roasting, braising, sauteeing? Bring it on. Something about that yeast always scared me into thinking I couldn't handle it. But I started a pottery class a few weeks ago and all of a sudden I was back into the swing of wheel throwing and wedging that clay on a board... and presto, I wanted to knead bread. And lots of it. So I did... and my family has turned cartwheels ever since.

Maybe it's because fall is here. Maybe we all feel like carbo-loading. Who knows - I like spending $0.38 on a beautiful, crusty loaf vs. $4.69. I also like showing my boys that great food doesn't come from a box.

Every so often, the stars align and a moment (or three) of bliss occurs. My moment was around 10:30 Saturday morning and I'd worked my way through most of a fresh pot of coffee from early in the morning. The Husba took Boy1 and Boy2 on an extended errand while I rummaged through the refrigerator for something to eat - when I spotted it: the package of wild Alaskan salmon I impulse-purchased at Whole Foods the night before. This, I thought, is why you don't go grocery shopping when you're hungry. But thank you, oh hungry Friday night stomach(!), I shall enjoy my salmon with every possible pairing available. Red onion? Check. Lemon? Check. Dill? Check. Rye toast and capers? Check check. Even those tiny little cornichon pickles? You got it! A dab of cream cheese and I was transported back to 1988 when I sat in a cafe in Helsinki, desperately pointing to something on the menu in the hopes it wasn't gelatinous fish or pig hearts.

"A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving." ~Lao Tzu

Nature Walk (with M&Ms)

It was a really nice afternoon when I got home from work a few weeks ago, so I suggested to Boy2 that we take a "Nature Walk". We grabbed his little pail and took a walk around the block looking for "interesting things". It was hilarious - every 30 seconds I'd hear, "Hmmm... THIS is interesting!" and another rock/stick/flower would be plucked from the sidewalk (or neighbor's flower garden - NO!!).

The pail must have weighed 5lbs by the time we got home.(I also think the little snack pack of M&Ms I stuck in his pail was a nice touch... although now he asks for "an M&M snack" each time we go on a nature walk.) haha...

I think we'll make this a regular thing.

Goodbye, Grandma

*sigh* OK, I should be happy we just saw my Grandma. And I am. I'm also sad that she died on Sunday. She led a wonderful life and was my FAVORITE PERSON EVER. That said, I will miss her terribly - we're leaving for NY tonight for her funeral.

I plan to leave her a letter - I considered sharing it, but I'm not sure right now. We'll see. She touched so many lives and she missed my Grandpa a lot - 90 is a pretty great run for anyone. Love you, Grandma.

Happy Birthday Grandma!

What do you get for someone who's turning 90? Yes, NINETY.
Answer = nothing.

And so Boy2, the Husba3000(TM) and I are getting on a plane tomorrow to fly back to NY for my Grandma's birthday. I think that's a pretty awesome present. I can't wait to see her - she just got out of the hospital yesterday where she was being treated for pneumonia, so we're pretty happy that she's doing better.

It's also my nephew's 5th birthday (wow!) and they're having a bowling party where my friends and I used to be in a league as a kid... how much fun is that? Of course, the Husba and I will be decked out in our finest bowling duds - we *do* live in Milwaukee, you know. I'm lucky enough to have acquired one of my Grandpa's bowling shirts - purely by accident - when I asked for their 1950s aluminum Christmas tree as a teenager. Sure enough, there was an old bowling shirt stuffed inside the box (go figure, right?) and when I asked if I could keep it... my Grandfather couldn't "...understand why on earth I'd want something like that...".

...'Cuz it's cool, gramps. 'Cuz it's cool.

To this day, it's one of my favorite shirts - I even ran into someone who recognized his name and the Fire Department maltese cross on the shirt when I was on a "corporate team building trip" in California. Funny. (talking to the person... not the team building exercise.)

Should be a good trip. I am, however, printing out the new DOT airline "tarmac delay" rules that went into effect today.

Just in case. :-)

Tempus Fugit

Whew! No posts since December? What's up with that?!?

Let's just say things have been a little crazy the past few months and we'll move on... our family is currently in the midst of a kitchen remodel and I spent all of last weekend (alone, mind you) busting out a truckload of spackle, wood putty and a whopping 4 coats of paint/primer on every conceivable surface in the place. Looks really nice, though... however, the contents of our entire kitchen are now in the living room - microwave, toaster oven, shelves, plants, EVERYTHING. We've been reduced to eating in the den (not good) and all the "training" I did to keep people from eating in there is unraveling as we speak.

I should rephrase the term "remodel". This is essentially a lipstick job so I can have a kitchen that functions and doesn't have cabinets falling off the wall (and so we can actually SELL the house). Our contractor is building us some custom open shelving and I'm hoping it will make the tiny kitchen feel more open. We're going for a simple white-beadboard-chunky-craftsman-bracket-shelving-1920s-look. Trust me, I'll take some before/after photos because I know that description makes little sense.

I can't wait to get my pans out from behind the sofa...

I believe I ordered the LARGE cappuccino

Today was a quarterly event - we went to Costco. In theory, I hate everything these warehouse stores stand for - I mean, who needs 144 of anything at once? Or even 12, really. I hardly have room to store a few extra rolls of toilet paper, let alone 48. This is essentially why my garage is a huge storage pit while we park our two cars in the driveway and scrape off the frost and/or snow every morning (or burn in the summertime). If I had a basement for storage, I wouldn't complain. But then, I like to complain anyway.

Going to Costco on a Saturday afternoon would be about 2,467th on my list of things I'd enjoy doing - it's like Black Friday. Shopping on the day after Thanksgiving encompasses everything I hate about shopping... times 5,000. Yet, here we were - the Husba3000(TM), Boy2 and me... filling a double-wide cart full of diapers, wipes and whole load o'dairy products. I was able to keep everyone (somewhat) in line with a shopping list, but I think invariably everyone ends up with more than they expected at Costco. Like the enormous roll of wrapping paper (justified for the dozen or so gifts I'll need to wrap). Or the 5lb. jar of "fancy" mixed nuts (not so justified - I was hungry). Maybe I'll make some brittle or toffee for gifts this year.

I hate this place.

A Milwaukee Fish Fry

I am so excited. Not only is it Friday (and a paycheck week-thankyouverymuch), but it is a balmy 6 degrees outside right now (not including wind chill)... and for us, that means a Fish Fry tonight. You may ask yourself "what's a fish fry"? And 5 years ago, I would have asked that very same question... it's big here. Really big. It happens all year 'round, but my personal opinion is that most people go when it's cold and dark - and during Lent. Nevertheless, we have a few favorite places around town but tonight it's Benno's in West Allis. Standard fare for most fish fries is battered cod or a battered/breaded lake perch or walleye pike - always served with potato pancakes or fries, applesauce & a slice of marble rye. I love Benno's because they serve a mean blackened salmon - that doesn't always make it to the "Specials" blackboard. So I'm crossing my fingers. They also offer a baked potato that's clearly on the Husba3000's (TM) radar.

Plus, Benno's has a serious beer lineup - both on tap & bottles. I like that they carry Scrimshaw Pilsner from North Coast in bottles... not sure if I'll be in a light or dark mood. I could really go for an Alaskan Amber or Bridgeport IPA these days. Too bad we can't get them around here. Wah. Double Wah.

Updates later!

Feed Me Seymour

Wednesday night was chicken cacciatore (that's a chicken thigh you see there). Not because I planned to make it, but it was the last day I could possibly stand to leave that chicken in the fridge before it went bad. I pulled it from the freezer oh, Saturday morning? It was originally intended to be a whole, roasted chicken - but I didn't have time for that. So, me + chicken + dull chef's knife and no sharpener around = 20 long minutes and a huge mess while I chased Boy2 around the house. I think I need to invest in a cleaver when we go to Chinatown in a few weeks (NY- to visit my family for the holidays). In any case, it was delicious. Plus, I had a green pepper and some olives to use up.

The 'Husba3000'(TM), as I like to call him, decided we had to eat off my parents' wedding china set - which is nice! Boy2 had his usual "cafeteria-style-segmented-swansons-tv-dinner-style-unbreakable-melamine-with-alien-designs" plate from Target. Because we've learned how many fragments a particular style bowl or plate will shatter into when thrown from the table. And we've learned that allowing food to mingle on the plate creates a shreik (NO NO NO NO NO!) from Boy2 that even the hibernating neighbors can hear. Frankly, the pasta is served separately not because of Boy2... but because of the Husba3000(TM). [see previous post]

I also decided that I should break open a bottle of wine I bought the other day (Erath Pinot Gris - one of my favorites from Oregon). Mind you, this is not how we usually eat. No, really. I'm serious.

Keep out of direct sunlight

So it starts like this - we just emerged from a "Winter Weather Advisory" in SE Wisconsin which apparently equates to 18" of snow in some areas. Talk about an understatement. (I will admit that the parking lot outside my office has a mere 2-3" of wet slush dripping off the cars, but that's not the point.) It's not so much the lack of sunlight after 4pm (years of Seattle winters with plenty of full-spectrum lightbulbs cured that), but rather the sheer dread of fall passing into winter (read: September) and the promise of months of sub-zero temperatures to come that makes me insane. Milwaukee certainly hibernates during this period - I don't expect to see my neighbors until April.

Which may be a good thing.

I've been here for about 5 years now and I still can't understand why people would choose to live in a climate like this. I know, I know... those crazy Norwegians & Germans who came to the U.S. were just looking for what was familiar. But come on, why not say, "Hey, you know what? I'm sick of having to preserve my fish in lye! I'm tired of potatoes and cabbage in the winter! Go South, young man... go south!" But no. I'm still wrapping my head around the concept that people actually like this weather. I'm not sold on it just yet.

I expect my musings to be more about food and my family's sheer refusal to try new things. Before I met my husband, I ate everything. And I still do, but to a lesser extent. Now, when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING. Weird stuff, ethnic stuff, French stuff, grey stuff, meats, soy, and everything in-between. I loved it all - and I am a really, really good cook. But now I find myself hiding all sorts of lovely vegetables in sauces (puree!) and mincing onions, garlic and other aromatics to death so as to become completely unrecognizable in the final product. It's exhausting and I hate that I can't find my food in the food. My husband is the worst of the culprits - and is leaving his legacy to Boy1 (9 years old). I have yet to get through a meal where at least a portion of the ingredients aren't segregated to a lonely corner of the plate. Boy2 (2 years old) is young enough to happily eat most of what I serve (when he's not being a "standard issue" toddler), so I have hope for him yet. The one good thing is that I can go to our local winter farmer's market and load up on chantrelles, aged goat cheese, buckwheat pancake mix and guanciale... and not a single finger will touch any of it. Not a one. I feel an amatriciana coming on...