Grand Tetons National Park: Phelps Lake and Family Fun.

Somewhere in the middle of Idaho.  Adventures awaiting.

Living in the wild west means I am perpetually hounded by the trips I should be taking.  It is no secret that I don't plan to live in Utah forever and so my mind has a list of must-sees about a mile long that may or may not get seen but feel urgent nevertheless.  My current, incomplete, western bucket-list goes something like this (right now; it changes constantly and is in somewhat random order):

1. Sequoia National Park
2. Seattle & Vancouver to gorge myself / see my dad
3. Brice Canyon
4. Lake Powell
5. Yellowstone National Park / Grand Tetons National Park
6. Hike at least one Slot Canyon
7. The Grand Canyon (even if just for the photo op)
8. Canyonlands National Park (gotta take a pic at Mesa Arch!)
9. See St. George (I've heard it's a cooler town as Utah goes)
10. Disneyland / Legoland (threw that in for Roman's sake)
11. Zion National Park
12. Grand Sand Dunes National Park in CO (we never made it there!)
13. Have a raspberry shake at Bear Lake during raspberry days
14. The Ogden Rodeo
15. Drive to the top of at least 1 mountain in Utah
16. Go camping at least once in Utah
17. Rent an RV and drive around the west with the kiddos
18. Las Vegas (never been!)
19. Go back to Park City
20. Go to Provo

Ironically, I did not realize we only live about a 4 hour drive away from Grand Teton National Park and 6 from Yellowstone National Park.  Upon being enlightened, those two things quickly moved up to the top of my bucket list because, well, duh, but also because it's the 150 year anniversary of the National Park system and I am a lover of nature.

Jackson Hole, WY

Neither Matt nor I had ever been to either of these parks but we determined that with 3 small children it would be impossible to do them "right," and so we flew by the seat of our pants, focusing only on Grand Tetons National Park.  I looked up a family-friendly hike on my phone as we cruised the open roads of Idaho, and, for once, food was not a priority on this trip.  I focused on having a nice time hiking in the park for a few hours and getting back to our hotel where we could exhaust the children at the awesome waterfall-filled, fake-bear-decorated pool, and perhaps get a rustic bite to eat at a local game-restaurant.

Roman admiring the river on an overlook.

It was a good plan and we were gainfully rewarded when we took the advice of other travelers and hiked the short, 3-mile roundtrip to Phelps Lake in the Rockefeller Preserve within Grand Tetons National Park.  It was uncrowded (possibly due to the patchy weather) and included multiple fun stops for the boys, among which was a waterfall with a metal walkway directly against it so that the boys could grab at the water and splash each other.  The ever-present danger of black and grizzly bears in the park is something I simply could not let go of and it did cause some stress during our hike (especially with the wee ones), but I decided the best way to keep the bears away was to sing loudly with Roman.  That meant ceaseless repetition of old Girl Scout classics like "My Grandfather's Clock," "The Gay Old Desperado," "I Said A-Boom-Chicka-Boom," "Daisy on my Toe," and some songs Roman decided to make up including an unforgettable rendition of "Jingle Farts" (sung to the tune of "Jingle Bells," of course).  I'm fairly certain the bears stayed away out of annoyance.  Mission accomplished.

On our hike we encountered a deer only 1-2 feet away from the trail; he was so accustomed to humans that he just stood there looking at us as we passed.  I was nearly driven mad by the bountiful collections of mushrooms in bloom, among them many lovely Morels, all of which are highly verboten to pick at any National Park.  The compulsion to get them almost drove me to break Federal law, but I stayed strong.  Alex was miserable for most of the hike (read: until we got to the lake and it was snack time) and I can't decide if it was because we woke him from a nap to hike (without offering coffee), or if his little hiking boots are getting too small.  Either way, I felt bad because he's too big to carry anymore, and anyway, I was carrying Linus.  Linus was a trooper for the most part, but decided to punish us by having a somewhat intense #2 diaper situation in the middle of the hike (and, as luck would have it, we forgot the wipes).  Disaster was averted and we made it to the lake without too much incident and delay.  When we got there Matt admitted he'd been trying to hurry us along so we could do a longer hike than we'd intended (there is another 2 miles around the lake), but it had become abundantly clear that the 3-mile round trip was more than enough for everyone.

*  *  *

Snacks and "Peace" at Phelps Lake

Phelps Lake was breathtaking.  Not only is everything painfully pristine in the Grand Tetons, but we also happened to be there on a day of on-and-off rain storms.  When we arrived at the lake the land was in a state of perfectly screaming pigmentation as a small storm had just passed.  It was sunny and blue-skyed, the water was invitingly emerald with the backdrop of the snowcapped Tetons and framed with towering pines and evergreens.  I've become somewhat jaded about the beauty of the mountains because we live in such close proximity to them; sometimes it just doesn't feel as exciting anymore, but this view and this environment left me speechless, kind of the way Acadia National Park did.  I wanted to sit still and silent and absorb it.  I got about 3 seconds of peace to do that.  Then I was brought back to reality with the squeals of two little boys chasing chipmunks all around me, bounding into piles of pine needles, chugging gatorade, and screaming and giggling non-stop.  Hey, I didn't say it was a bad reality, just not very peaceful. :)  Matt and I snacked on Spanish chorizo and the boys enjoyed goldfish and other sundry snackies.  All that was missing was a nice glass of wine.

Phelps Lake: Fresh air is good for the soul.

We stayed at a lovely resort called the Snake River Lodge and Spa in Teton village, a ski village just outside Jackson Hole.  The whole thing looks like a modern Swiss or Austrian village, and is nestled right on the side of the Tetons with ski-in-ski-out access being a perk widely advertised in our hotel.

We were greeted by a double rainbow at the end of our hike,
and just dodged a downpour.

In the off-season it was just wonderful.  Not too many guests, a great facility with a beautiful indoor/outdoor pool, and a restaurant or two just a short walk away.  That evening we had dinner at the local Wyoming-themed restaurant called The Mangy Moose.  The boys loved the name and the moose face on the sign.  They also loved the extensive taxidermy and antique ski articles hung all over the inside of the restaurant.  We were seated at a large table set into a small alcove, facing out on a main dining area, making it a semi-private dining experience and an easy place to corral little ones. Amazingly, this dinner was a landmark for our family.  It was one of the first and only times that all three boys have willingly sat down to eat without complaining and interacted in a decently civil manner with us.  I ordered a rabbit and venison meatloaf that came with broccolini and mashed potatoes, and Matt had elk sausage and the same sides.  We also had fried pickles to start and were very pleased to see that they were sour gherkins battered and fried whole.  They were delicious.  Roman was forced to try one but, alas, he still hates pickles no matter how much we harass him.  Alex gobbled one up and so did Linus.  The boys had mac n cheese and tried some of our food.  As a reward for the good behavior, we ordered a Mud Fudge cake and it was the biggest piece of ice cream cake I have ever seen.  The boys pounced.  Matt described it as we were throwing carcasses to vultures.  They simply would not stop until it had been devoured and were then energized, bordering on maniacal, for a quick dip in the hotel pool.

A view to the Tetons from the start of the Phelps Lake trail.

We returned home early the next day, Memorial day, (sadly two of us became very ill with a stomach bug Alex had had), good memories in our hearts and a determination to soon come back, this time to Yellowstone, in our minds.  But, really, who knows what the next adventure will be!

Euclid Hall: Pigs' Heads and Baby Godzilla

Pigs' Heads at the Bar

The past few weeks have been a little rough.

Two weeks ago Matt got into a "fender bender," as he taught Roman to call it, with a telephone pole when his car slid out of control on the snow and ice.  They were headed to A-basin to go skiing in a big storm and had decided to turn around when it happened.  Nobody was hurt, except the car, thank God, but the absence of Matt's car and the lack of straight-forwardness regarding when it will be ready has created some crazy mornings with me driving both him and Roman into downtown Denver and then some exhausting afternoons picking them up.  On the one hand, Roman and I listened to the entirety of Gary Paulsen's Hatchet, a favorite of mine from Mrs. Moses' 4th grade class (and perhaps one of the many reasons I viciously hate mosquitoes).  On the other hand, we are all also sick (wonderful mid-winter colds and coughs for the lot of us!) and exhausted and ready to have life back to normal.  All of this occurred just when we'd started to settle into the house and had begun to turn a corner with Alexander's horrible reflux and lack of sleeping at night, so I was literally at the end of my tether on Friday when I spent more than 4 hours in the car.

As if a direct answer to my unspoken-but-probably-telepathically-communicated-prayers, Matt's coworker and his girlfriend randomly offered to babysit the boys so we could get out.  It was nothing short of a miracle.  I went from facing a mediocre dinner while holding a crying baby and yelling at Roman to sit down, to a gourmet meal at an amazing restaurant in LoDo (lower downtown Denver) which I have not been able to stop thinking or talking about.  And what's odd is that the food was not perfect.  There were things I didn't enjoy about the meal much at all, in fact.  It was more that this is the first restaurant I've been to in Denver that I felt took real risks, and was successful with them.

So, our dinner at Euclid Hall.

I don't usually review restaurants but this one is worth the effort.  I truly loved it - which is more than I can say for almost any of the restaurants I've tried in Denver.  I'm not sure how to describe it; maybe modern American nose-to-tail eating with a twist?  First of all, we sat at the bar directly in front of the open kitchen (which is always my favorite place to sit) and right next to us on the elevated section of the bar where the chefs placed all the outgoing dishes were 3 partially cooked whole pigs' heads on plates.  That might bother some people, but it's literally what drew me in.  We found out that they were actually on sale to take home and cook for $60, something we'd like to do one of these days.  But I digress.

Our server was great, knowledgeable, thoughtful, timely.  He was interested in our experience and even had them split and serve our dessert on two plates without us asking.  The vibe was cool - it is a huge bar, actually - and their kitchen, I'm here to tell you, is nothing short of a perfectly orchestrated dance.  Their chef, Jorel Pierce, commanded and inspected and delegated quietly but firmly.  There was no chaos, no yelling, and if there was swearing - I mean, come on, there had to be swearing - it was done quietly enough that we couldn't hear.  The three guys in the kitchen with him worked quickly, efficiently and with skill.  I watched carefully at what they were doing and didn't order until I'd seen several different dishes come by me.  We almost got the chicken and waffles, but after we saw the composite-rectangular-chicken-y thing they serve there come by, we decided against it.  (Sorry guys, sometimes you've just got to leave a classic alone.)  We lingered, having our drinks, and enjoyed the show before us.

When, at last, we were ready, here is what we ordered.  First off, I recommend our approach: We decided to get several dishes - the menu does offer entrees but reads more like an American tapas menu - and just shared.  We skipped out on the homemade sausages and pickles (a great shame as they look fantastic), and the enticing roasted bone marrow (that was a tough call because it seriously looked perfect), and, to be honest, there were at least 10 other things besides that I would have happily tried.  But all that just gives me another reason to come back.

*  *  *

A Damn Good Meal at Euclid Hall

January 2014

First Course: Pig Ear Pad Thai; tamarind chili sauce, scallion, peanut, egg, sprouts, mint, cilantro

Pigs' Ear Pad Thai

This dish was literally incredible.  Pigs' ears are the hot thing right now so maybe ordering it was a bit trite (we've literally had them three times in the last two months and had never had them before that), but for once I don't mind being foody-mainstream.  This version by far surpassed anything else we'd ever tried.  Deep fried strips of pig ear that were just soft enough to be meaty but crispy enough for crunch, covered in a seriously spicy tamarind sauce and sauteed with peanuts and egg.  The garnishes were standard and perfect; the lime juice almost made the dish.  The serving size was more than enough for two people (though we greedily finished it and it took a lot of effort to agree to let Matt have the last bite) and rather reasonable at just $8.00.



Second Course: Manila Clams with Merguez Caldo Verde; braised kale, fried garlic, grape tomato, olive oil crostini, smoked malt and rye brodo
 This dish gets bonus points for creativity.  A riff on a Portuguese-style soup with the kale, sausage and seafood, it was good, but not great.  The presentation blew me - and everyone else who walked by - away.  I had a girl come up and ask if she could join us so she could eat what we were ordering.  It's odd that nobody else bothered to order the dish, but part of me wondered if maybe it had to do with them having tried it before.  The merguez sausage - a Moroccan-style lamb ditty - completely overpowered the clams and didn't marry well with the other components.  The broth lacked salt and was, well, almost too unique, too strange, being something like a "beer" broth with notes of sour and not-enough-savory, and yet, somehow...I liked it.  I added a lot of salt.  I would order it again just for the half baguette to dip in the soup when you're done.

Side 1: Brussel Sprout Casserole; garlic cheddar fondue, lemon, French fried onions
I am a self-professed Brussel Sprout fiend.  I almost always order them when I see them on a menu, and the winter is a perfect time to do so.  In this case, I enjoyed the combination of flavors, but after two bites felt that the cheddar fondue was just too rich.  It overtook the sprouts which are really the star of the show.  That said, it was a great combination of meaty, gooey and crunchy and a nice little dish to share with someone else.

Side 2: Wild Mushroom Poutine; porcini gravy, hand-cut fries, cheddar curds
One of the main reasons I wanted to try Euclid Hall was their Poutines.  I first tried this Canadian dish back in college during a very drunken trip with my roommates to go clubbing in a not-so-unique bordertown laden with bad casinos which we were all too young to enter.  It is a fantastic and almost-wrongly-decadent idea: to smother french fries in cheese and gravy.  It lured me in then just as it did last week.  I had seen that Euclid hall often offered a Duck Poutine, but that wasn't on the menu when we visited, so naturally I went for the mushroom offering.  The porcini gravy was definitely what I would call a super-umami food.  Delicious but almost too rich by the end of the somewhat-generously-portioned dish.  It all went well together and I enjoyed the cheese curds.  And maybe it's just the carnivore in me talking but I thought it was lacking meat of some sort. 

L to R: Brussel Sprout Casserole, Porcini Poutine and Clam & Merguez Soup

Dessert: Sourdough Waffle Ice Cream Sandwich; salted butterscotch ice cream, praline
Matt and I were so full - borderline food-coma-full - that we almost didn't order dessert.  But I'm glad we went for this.  One portion is the perfect size to share, and while I'm not a huge fan of sourdough, all the sour and salty notes worked well in this dessert.  I'd recommend it as a nice way to end the meal.

Drinks:
Matt: Boulevard Tank 7 Farmhouse Ale: not much to say on the beer front except that Matt ordered two of these and was quite enamored.  Even I liked it and I'm not what you'd call a beer person.  Unique.

Me: Baby Godzilla!: This cocktail had me at hello.  I would wager that I'd order most things called "Baby Godzilla" just because it's such a fantastic name, but the fact that this concoction consisted mainly of gin and grapefruit reeled me in.  What a wonderfully perfect winter drink!  I am a gin-maniac, and have been eating the winter's ripest red grapefruits obsessively for the past few weeks, so this hit home.   There was sweetness, bitterness, and even some substance with the thickness that the grapefruit juice lends.  Give it a try.  Yes, it's pink.  But Baby Godzilla is anything but wussy.

*  *  *

In a city where the culinary scene is still slowly - sometimes too slowly, I think - clawing its way up the ladder to a status near some of the other big food cities in the US, it's hard to find a place that is less-flash and more-flavor.  Ironically, I'd been to one of Euclid Hall's sister restaurants - Rioja - about a year before and had the opposite experience: pretty, fancy, overpriced food that wasn't all that great.  Rioja is much-lauded while Euclid Hall seems to be the grungier, less ostentatious step-child content to sit in a dark corner and do his own thing.  But it is decidedly more unique, daring and, therefore, surprising.  And, despite not wanting to be - it's also refined.  Pigs' Heads, Baby Godzilla, and all.

Mycophagy, Man: Tales of Foraging and Wild Mushroom Tagliatelle

Boletis edulis; Porcini

Me and Mushrooms.  Mushrooms and me. 

This love affair has been going on for my whole life.  But it was in August 2013 that I officially began dabbling in the world of amateur mycology - that is, the amateur study and collection of mushrooms - because that was when Matt, as a wonderful anniversary gift, got us a Saturday outing on an amateur mushroom hunt in the Rockies together.  I've been meaning to write this post since then!

cross-section of porcini ready to dry in the oven

We left Roman with a neighbor that sunny Saturday morning and headed off into the mountains of Jefferson County, Colorado to an undisclosed location to hunt Porcini - or King Boletes - boletis edulis.  (And for the record, who the heck knew Porcini grew in Colorado?!  Apparently it's a big thing.)  But I had been dabbling in the world of mycophagy - that is, the practice of consuming fungi, or being fungivorous (love that word!), my entire life.  I've mentioned before that as a small child rather than having an imaginary friend I had an imaginary mushroom I chewed on all day.  It's odd.  Very odd.  But very me.

I love mushrooms.  I seek them out at specialty shops on a regular basis.  And now, instead of paying a hefty price for barely passable fresh chanterelles and dried porcini from central Asia, I know how to collect them myself, right here in Denver and the surrounding areas.  I also know how to dry them, prepare them, and even discovered how to make porcini powder from the dried and blended underpart of the cap.  So many new secrets, discoveries, delicacies.

findings from the forest in Evergreen

Mushroom foraging was something of a revelation for me.  As Matt put it, rarely in life does one come across something that is so true and inherent a passion.  Not only did mushroom foraging come naturally to me (I'm pretty sure I had all the characteristics memorized the first time around), but I also became obsessed with it instantly.  The weekend after our first forage, during which I found the largest king bolete of the group, Matt and I returned and looked for more mushrooms.  He had a very hard time pulling me out of the woods after 3 hours.  I was unstoppable with my Danish knife, paper lunch bags and backpack.  A few weeks later, I booked my next foraging excursion with the same company and guide - Graham Steinruck of Mycotours.  I became friends with Graham and began to get mildly connected to the semi-secret underworld / sub culture of amateur mycology and mycophagy.  I couldn't stop talking about mushrooms, drying mushrooms, eating mushrooms.  Everywhere I went, I was looking for them - even while driving.  My neighbors even started bringing mushrooms back from their hikes for me to identify.  It was a pleasant surprise to have a new and convenient hobby - one I'd always wanted to take up but never had the time or access to do so.

One of my favorite aspects of mushroom foraging is the traipsing-through-the-woods part.  Matt and I took Roman with us on a couple of other forays - to the original spot in Jeffco and to a new spot up in Evergreen where we encountered a Czech man who gave us a giant load of porcini he didn't want.  We had so much fun being disconnected from society - no cell phones or computers - and just letting Roman run through the woods and explore.  He became a gatherer like me and I gave him his own paper bag to fill with different specimens (none of which we'd ever eat, of course, given the possible cross-contamination).  He loved it.  And I couldn't help but revel in this shared experience of gathering food together in a way that had been done by families for centuries all over the world.  It was a bonding experience, and one I look forward to repeating when the season starts up again next summer.

Until then, here are some photos of some of my mushrooms and a quick and delicious recipe for one of my favorite ways to eat wild mushrooms: a simple white wine and cream sauce on tagliatelle pasta.  Yum.

Our findings on that first foray

 My Favorite Mushrooms of Colorado

so far

**CAVEAT: Please do not try to collect these without expert help or knowledge!**

On that first foray we found a great representation of some of the most common mushrooms to be had in the Colorado mountains.  Clockwise from bottom left, here is what we found and dined upon:

1. Suillus Brevipes or Sticky Cap Mushrooms: (the light cream colored ones on the bottom left) Many experienced foragers turn their noses up at Suillus Brevipes but they are one of my favorites.  They are a meaty mushroom in the bolete family that have a dark brownish-grey cap which you peel off in order to eat them.  They are abundant in the pine forests of Colorado.

2. Lycoperdon perlatum or Gem-studded Puffballs: These are the cute little balls that look exactly as their names would suggest.  They are some of the easiest to identify and Roman's favorites.  They have little tiny white "gems" that come off like powder when you touch them.  The key is to make sure they don't have a stem, and to cut through them from top to bottom to make sure they are 100% white in the center, otherwise you might risk eating rotton or poisonous variations.  They have a tender, fluffy consistency.  These are the miniature versions of the Giant Puffballs or Calvatia gigantea.

3. Sarcodon imbricatus or Hawk's Wings: (dark brown scaly ones in the center) These are some of the easiest mushrooms to spot.  They are also very abundant in the CO hills and mountains and have a dark, tell-tale collection of teeth on the underside of the cap.  For this reason they are also often known as hedgehog mushrooms.  These are some of Matt's favorites to eat - though I find their taste strong and strange.  Their texture is similar to that of a portobello, but stronger and, for lack of a better word, gamier.

4. Boletis edulis or Porcini: What you see in my picture are representations of both the King Bolete and the more commonly prized Italian porcini.  The King boletes, as the name implies, are much larger than the oft-pictured small, chestnut colored, fat-stemmed porcini.  Both are delicious but hard to find without any wormholes as they are also favored by insects.  When you can get them, they are wonderful fresh, dry, in pastas and soups.  There is still some debate about whether the North American variation is exactly the same as the European one but that is something I consider something of a ridiculous quibble - they are delicious no matter what.  We ate the small ones fresh and I sliced and dried the larger ones, worms and wormholes and all.  Nothing wrong with a little extra protein. :)

5. Lactarius Deliciosus or Saffron Milk Cap: (the bright orange one with blueish-green spots) These are also some of my favorite mushrooms and often overlooked by porcini / chanterelle obsessed amateur mycologists.  I love their texture and just think they're really, really pretty.  There are some mildly poisonous variations of these but as long as you see that they "lactate" a bright blue-green liquid when cut, you are pretty safe (assuming you've also checked off the list for where and how to find them as well).  I love their orange-saffron color and find their Latin name pretty fun to say as well. :)

6. Yellowish gray ones: can't remember what these are.

7. Auricularia auricula-judae or Wood ears:  We were very fortunate to find some wood ear mushrooms on our first outing.  They are not particularly common here and I love them.  They are commonly found in Asian cooking and have a cartiledge-y texture that I find unique and wonderful, especially in Chinese Hot & Sour Soup.  They grow on the bark of elder trees, most commonly.

 8. Little Brown ones at the bottom: can't remember what these were either.

*  *  *

Wild Mushroom Tagliatelle

Serves 2 good eaters

Ingredients

2-3 tbsp butter1 tbsp olive oil
1 shallot, chopped finely
1-2 cloves garlic, sliced
~1/4 cup good white wine or dry vermouth
~1/4 cup light cream 
1/2 lemon, juiced
1lb wild mushrooms, sliced: you can use a combination as I did or just use porcini / whatever good wild mushroom is available at your local market
2-3 tbsps Italian Parsley, chopped roughly, for garnish
1lb tagliatelle (or pappardelle) pasta
Salt & pepper

Buon appetito!
Heirloom tomato salad with parmigiano and balsamic
to accompany lightly sauteed wild mushroom tagliatelle.

Method

1. Set a pot of salted water to boil for the pasta.  When boiling, and about five minutes from serving time, add the pasta.

2. Add butter and oil to a large sautee pan over medium-high heat and allow the butter to melt completely.  Then add the shallot and garlic and allow to cook for 30 seconds to a minute, tossing them around.

3. To the pan, add the mushrooms and sautee, allowing them to brown on one side for a while before moving them around too much. If the pan gets too dry, add salt and pepper to draw moisture from the mushrooms.  2-3 minutes

4. Once mushrooms are sauteed, add the wine or vermouth and deglaze the pan.  In the meantime, make sure the pasta is going and almost ready.  Then add the cream to the pan and allow it to bubble and simmer for a minute or so in order to reduce. Salt & pepper.

5. Remove the pasta from the water before it is fully cooked (after about 5 minutes or so).  Add to the sautee pan, turn off the heat, and toss gently in the mushroom sauce.  Squirt the juice of half a lemon over the dish and garnish with chopped parsley.  Serve immediately.

A Salt & Pepper Meal for the New Year.

Excuse me for crassly stretching the limits of the metaphor, but this part of January - the New Year, if you will - is a lot like a roast chicken.  The simplest of things and yet, in some ways, the most complex of foods to perfect.  Done badly, it can ruin your appreciation of the roast bird, making it, like other simple pleasures, a basic and ubiquitous bore.  Done well, it can exemplify and even elevate all that simple things can be to life.  It's a blank canvas - all the possibilities that linger before us.  It's clean, straightforward, unadulterated - as of yet.  It's the New Year dreams ahead, made delicious by a little salt and a little pepper.

Perhaps it's just coincidence, perhaps it's the cold weather and the appeal of a hot roast on a winter's Sunday afternoon, but for the past couple of years Matt always seems to ask me to make him a roast chicken right around this time.  And for the past couple of years, I've always made this particular recipe, my go-to-utter-perfection-simple-roast-chicken (courtesy of Thomas Keller, see last year's homage).  For whatever reason, I tend to fight the idea of having a roast chicken when first presented with it - oh what a bore, don't want to bother, why not some nice salmon, blah blah blah.  But I always end up giving in.  And then, as soon as I enter the kitchen with that simplistic, holistic culinary purpose, I'm whisked away by the excitement of making such a downright easy meal that I know will be both utterly simple and utterly delicious.
 
The reason I love this meal I make is because it tears away all the pretentious over-workedness of many modern recipes.  It's a salt & pepper kind of meal.  All you need is a chicken, an oven, salt & pepper and you're good to go.  Yes, sometimes I embellish the side dishes (for example, this year I added anise seed to the potatoes), but at its core, there's nothing flashy or difficult about this meal in its entirety.  Except for the salad, everything is cooked in cast iron skillets in the same oven.  And it's all ready at the same time, accompanied by a simple white wine (Sauvignon Blanc is my preference).  It makes the day and sets the tone for the rest of January, a month that can either drag on or usher in with joy. 
 

*  *  *

  
The house smells like heaven.  You find yourself enthralled in the easy but purposeful sprinkling of coarse salt & pepper over the newly dried chicken skin.  No oil, no butter, just heat, salt & pepper and a chicken.  And 60 minutes later your beautiful chicken is transformed.  You can baste at the end.  You can add the Thyme for a little spice.  But you don't have to - it would be the best chicken you ever had straight out of the oven.

the cook's prize

You've roasted potatoes with lemon slices, you've made a simple salad with lemon juice and oil as dressing and copious amounts of grape tomatoes marinated in fresh garlic and basil.  You've basted the chicken and greedily tried to share the cook's prize with your husband.  The wine is chilled, the table set, and you sit down.  You eat.  You feel full and happy, picking at bits of crunchy skin after already eating your fill.  Everyone is rosy-cheeked and happy - even the three year-old - with more light than dark left in the day (and the chicken).  

And that's when you know: this is what a meal should do.  In all its uncomplicated glory it should unite.  It should spark mutual appreciation and enthusiasm for life among the young and old, sitting together, sharing such a meal, in animated conversation, toasting bravely to life's inevitable joys and travails - the salt and the pepper of our existence.

*  *  *

Recipes
To serve a family of 4

Preheat oven to 450F / 232C

The Chicken (4-5lbs)
Rinse and Dry thoroughly.
Salt & Pepper copiously (inside).
Truss tightly.
Dry again.
Salt & Pepper copiously (outside).
Bake in cast iron skillet (no oil or butter) for 55-65 minutes.
Baste with own juice, sprinkle thyme lightly and baste again.
DONE.

The Gravy
Whisk flour slurry into pan juices. Add wine.  Reduce. Skim fat. Salt & Pepper.  Serve.

The Potatoes (4 large)
Peel and chop.
Slice lemon thinly.
Mix potatoes, salt & pepper, lemon, oregano (anise seeds too?) and generous amount of canola oil. 
Bake in separate cast iron skillet next to chicken for 45 minutes, mixing occasionally.
Salt & Pepper.
DONE (at the same time as chicken).




The Salad
Chop grape tomatoes.
Chop garlic (3 cloves).
Chop basil.
Mix with lemon juice and olive oil.
Salt & Pepper.
Add mixed greens and serve.
DONE.

The Old House by the Lindens: Goodbye to Portland, Maine

Seaweed in Boothbay Harbor, ME

*  *  *

The old house by the lindens
  Stood silent in the shade,
And on the gravelled pathway
  The light and shadow played... 

...The birds sang in the branches,
  With sweet, familiar tone;
But the voices of the children
  Will be heard in dreams alone!

And the boy that walked beside me,
  He could not understand
Why closer in mine, ah! closer,
  I pressed his warm, soft hand!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, from "The Open Window"

 *  *  *

Has it been over a year already since we left Abu Dhabi, since we arrived into Maine?  At this time last year were we just preparing to leave the Eastern Promenade and move into our dear "house by the lindens"?  Is it really my last Saturday, my last weekend here?

Yes - it's all so.  And next Thursday we load up the Tahoe, hand over the keys to the green house on Linden Street and start on our cross-country trip to the Mile High City.  We've known about this move to Denver almost since we moved to Portland, but that doesn't make leaving the place we've called home for 14 months any easier on anyone.  There's a lot we've come to love about Portland - friends, favorite spots, memorable restaurants, and new-old-habits that we'll have to re-make in our new city.  And while we're all very excited for the move to Colorado - desperately excited for the place we hope we'll stay permanently! - I can't help but feel a little nostalgic about the memories we've made in Maine: the good, the bad, the salty.

There's a lot I could say on the subject, but instead, here's another pictorial list of our favorite and most-to-be-missed impressions from our year + in the land of lighthouses and lobsters.

*  *  *

An "Open Window" into Our Year in Maine

very Longfellow, I know :)

After leaving Maine we will sorely miss...

10.  ...sunsets on the Eastern Promenade...
Heck, sunrises, mornings, noons and nights too...

 

Sunset on the Eastern Promenade
Munjoy Hill, Portland ME

9.  ...that amazing view of Portland you get while walking on Back Cove trail...
It's pretty in the sun, rain, snow, and mysteriously striking in the fog...

That View from Back Cove

8.  ...the beautiful harshness of the Maine winters...

Harris Farms
Dayton, ME

7. ...the best fried whole-bellied clams around
(served with homemade tartar and cocktail sauces, of course)...

Fried Clam Plate at The Lobster Shack
Two Lights, ME

6. ...Maine's incredible oysters - raw & fresher than you can imagine - with mignonette...

Our favorite place for fresh oysters in Portland is:
Street & Co on Wharf Street

5. ...the abundant, verdant forests; trees, trees everywhere...

Deering Oaks Park
Portland, ME

4.  ...walking in the Old Port on a beautiful day...

Custom House Street
Old Port, Portland, ME

3. ...the beach, and beautiful proximity to that healing salty smell...

Pine Point Beach, Scarborough ME

2. ...dipping our feet and watching seaweed in the frigid water off our favorite dock...

The Dock on the Eastern Promenade
Portland, ME

1. ...our green house by the lindens, and all the memories it holds...

Linden Street
Portland, ME

PS: For those of you who noticed the small tweaks in appearance, my new peony blog title picture is also a shout-out to Portland; it was taken on my front porch and the flowers were picked from our wonderful garden.

Oysters & Down East Chowder: A Wintery Maine Dinner Party

Chowdah on a Snowy Day.

When we moved to Maine last year, one of the things I most anticipated and dreaded was the long, hard snowy winters of New England.  On the one hand, having just left the comfort of Abu Dhabi's winter desert - balmy 80-degree days with sunshine all throughout - I dreaded the idea of having to pull out the old winter wardrobe and dress Roman in layers.  On the other hand, I was desperate for some seasonal change - living in permanent summer is not all it's cracked up to be - and could not wait for the chance to ski, snowshoe, sled and generally frolic in the fluffy white snow with Roman.  With the passage of summer and the entrance of Autumn, I went slowly but surely from dread to full anticipation.  And by the time December came, I was all-out praying that we'd have a white Christmas in Connecticut at my in-laws.  But we didn't.

And in fact, apart from one or two snows over a month ago, we haven't had almost any snow at all!  I tried to go cross-country skiing 4-5 weekends in a row, with no luck.  Everyone here in Portland is already talking of "spring fever" while I've been sitting at home practically cursing the gods over their Invernal (and infernal) leniency.  With March quickly approaching, and talk of Easter buzzing, I had all but given up on my dream Maine winter.  And then the unthinkable happened: Matt turned 30.  And hell froze over. :)

We woke up to a beautiful blanket of white on the first day of March.  It didn't stop snowing for nearly 12 hours straight, and it stuck (we even made it to Harris farm for some long-awaited Cross Country skiing - but more on that in another post). The next day, we had a surprise dinner guest and so I thought, why not have two of my favorite Maine foods to celebrate the occasion?  Oysters and Down East Haddock Chowder, it was.  With two types of oysters (Wellfleets & Beau Soleils bought at Harbor Fish Market) and two types of homemade mignonette to compliment them (plain and spicy-cilantro), the best baguette in Portland (from The Standard Baking Co.), and some Avocado "butter" to spread on it, it was going to be a feast truly worthy of a cozy Maine winter's evening, and a truly easy impromptu dinner party.

Why are these two of my favorite Maine foods?  Here are my top 5 reasons, in list form.

* * *

Top 5 Reasons to Eat Oysters & Chowder in Maine
in copious amounts and various forms

5. They're Local.

I love that Maine is so into promoting its local culture, local foods, local businesses.  I love being able to buy an entire meal that is sourced locally - it's kind of a cool feeling and the food generally does tend to be fresher. 

There are an abundance of local (Maine-grown) oysters: I love JP Shellfish's website for their no-nonsense overview of the best Maine has to offer.  They give tips on salinity, size, meatiness, "clean-ness," and availability.  Wellfleets are not Maine oysters (they come from Cape Cod, so close enough), but Beau Soleils are.  And so are my favorite oysters of all time: Bagaduces.  Word has it they're Thomas Keller's favorites too.  Good enough for me!

Chowder is as ubiquitous here in New England as Gumbo in Louisiana.  There are lots of different variations, but the one I discovered by accident at a Mainer's house is one of my favorites.  It is a milk-based (not cream!) haddock (not clam!) chowdah.  Easy, no-fuss, no-frills - like the Mainers.  And it's basically a dream because the longer it sits and "matures," the better it tastes.  Recipe below.

4. They're Green.
Haddock, which is what Mainers generally use in their chowder, is a totally sustainably harvested fish.  It is in great abundance here in Maine and therefore always available and usually relatively fresh.

I'm not usually one to harp on matters of the environment because I hate people who shove their opinions and life-views down your throat, but I will say that overfishing is something that bothers me, because of the impact it has on all the other naturally dependent species and ecosystems within that particular ocean / lake / river. So, while I'm not 100% great about only buying sustainably harvested fish, when I can, I do!

Oysters here in Maine are plentiful and varied. And the great thing about the frigid, frigid North Atlantic waters of Maine is that they are available and at peak almost ALL year long (rather than just in the fall / winter months as is usually the case).

3. They're Kid Friendly (at least the chowder).
The reason I even found out about this recipe is entirely due to Roman's willingness to eat it. We were visiting a friend's friend's house and the pizza we had ordered was taking forever. Roman was ready to gnaw either my or his arm off, so when the host started feeding his 1 year-old I begged for a little of whatever she was having for Roman. It turned out to be this chowder, and he slurped it down, as did the 1 year-old.  And he has happily eaten it every time I've made it since.  His wife is a native Mainer and it was the kind of chowder she grew up with - he admitted to adding Thyme and bacon, which is apparently slightly avant-garde as far as the purists are concerned.

He also told me that they often give their children plain yoghurt with maple syrup drizzled over. What a totally Maine thing! I left with two new New England-y, child-friendly food options. Great. :) 


2. They're Super Down East.
So, I never quite understood what people were talking about when they threw the term "Down East" around.  Technically it refers to the coast of Maine from Penobscot Bay to the Canadian border but colloquially it's a term of cultural pride and territorial nature, and it's very Maine.  True to having a special term just for "things Maine," Mainers are kind of, well -for lack of a better word - "exclusive" as a group. Not that they're pretentious or uppity but they're not really into "new neighbors" or "new friends."  "If you're not from here, you never will be a Mainer," said my son's preschool teacher in reference to her non-Mainer husband, only half-jokingly.  Not only do they stick together they also love to enjoy Maine-things.  And chowder and oysters are definitely two of them - so I eat them. Because I have to feel a part of Maine somehow!

1. They're Truly Delish.
 All kidding aside, I do love these two foods. The chowder is awesome and super comforting, but to me the oysters of Maine (and New England in general) are something approaching food-perfection. So good. So fresh. And so natural.  I'm including a recipe for one of my favorite mignonettes to serve with raw oysters as well as the recipe for Down East Haddock Chowder. Enjoy!

*  *  *

Down East Haddock Chowder

of the mostly-traditional persuasion

Serves 4-5

So my unorthodox additions to this chowder are the shrimp and the bacon. I love the contrast of textures (and I also love shrimp). Still, though, I'd consider this true-blue Down East chowder, because I got the recipe from a Mainer, but then I'm not purist.  If you're really hardcore you'll leave out the clam juice altogether and just do it with milk and water. This chowder is watery by nature - please don't go into this expecting New England Clam Chowder consistency or you'll feel jipped. :)

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs Haddock fillets, whole
12-15 large shrimp, peeled, de-veined and sliced in half lengthwise
6-8 slices of bacon
2 cups clam juice or fish stock
2 cups whole milk
2 cups water
1 large onion, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
3 cups (~2 large) potatoes, diced
1 tsp dried thyme or 1 tbsp fresh thyme
salt & pepper to taste
2 tbsp butter
1 tsp canola oil

1. In a dutch oven or large pot fry the bacon in the canola oil until crisp.  Remove to drain on paper towels, and leave the bacon grease in the pot. When cool, chop the bacon into small bits and place in a bowl for garnishing the chowder.

2. To the bacon grease add the onions and celery and cook until softened over medium-high heat. 

3. Add the potatoes, clam juice, water, salt and pepper and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat and allow the soup to simmer, covered, until the potatoes are cooked (15 minutes).

4. Add the milk and thyme. Put the fish into the pot, then cover the pot and turn the heat to low (or even turn it off, if you're daring!), leaving it to poach for 15 minutes or so. 

5. Using a wooden spoon, gently break the cooked fish apart in the chowder, leaving large chunks (or to your preference). Then add the shrimp and allow them to poach for a further 5-7 minutes. They should just be cooked through.  Taste the chowder and adjust salt & pepper.

6. Uncover and allow the soup to cool completely. Then refrigerate for at least 4 hours but overnight is best. This soup really does taste better the next day! Garnish with bacon bits and serve with crusty bread.

* * *

Brenda's Mexican Mignonette

 Serve with cold, freshly shucked bagaduces or beau soleils
 

This recipe is inspired by the mignonette we had at the Front Room, a fantastic and low-key restaurant on Munjoy Hill, Portland, that serves excellent American-style food. I believe theirs was made with champagne vinegar (which seems to be the "it" thing for mignonettes here in Portland) but it's really the cilantro that makes this unique. A perfect pairing with oysters or clams.

Ingredients
1/2 shallot, chopped finely
2 tbsp red wine vinegar
2 tbsp lemon juice
1/2 tbsp finely chopped cilantro
1/2 chile Serrano (or Jalapeno if you're a wuss), chopped finely
salt & pepper to taste

Mix all ingredients and refrigerate. Mignonette tastes even better after it's been sitting in the fridge for several hours or even overnight.

Serve with a small spoon for pouring over oysters on the half-shell.

Thomas Keller & The Perfect Roast Chicken

Thomas Keller's Favorite Simple Roast Chicken
and my awesome new Fig tablecloth

A couple of days ago I went on a food-literature binge.  I was about 4 issues behind on my Food & Wine and Bon Appetit subscriptions because of the holidays, and my cookbook collection (a small but varied selection of choice pieces of food lit) had been sorely neglected for months.  Besides the magazines, I pulled out two books on French cooking that I hadn't used in ages: Barefoot in Paris by Ina Garten and Bouchon by Thomas Keller.  As far as French cookery goes, the two are almost diametrically opposed to each other with Ina Garten, of Food Network fame, favoring French recipes simplified for the home cook often with a New England twist and Thomas Keller espousing the authentic and sophisticated French and French-bistro foods he is so well known for at Bouchon, Ad Hoc, Per Se, and The French Laundry.

I was flipping through the books because I'd been craving - positively craving - a good roast chicken for weeks.  I kept seeing ridiculously appetizing pictures of them all over Pinterest and decided to narrow down my top selections and then make the one I deemed most roast-worthy.  After I'd chosen my favorite among the pictures and recipes online - something labelled "Thomas Keller's Favorite Simple Roast Chicken" - I went to look through my French cookbooks to see if I could find anything better.

Open the book and there it was.  The first recipe in Thomas Keller's Bouchon: his favorite simple roast chicken. Seriously?!

Up until that point I had no idea who Thomas Keller even was, much less that he'd written that giant French cookbook my mother had given me 5 years ago or that he was the same chef referenced in the online chicken recipe I'd found.  But there you have it.  It was a match made in heaven, destined for completion on a cold January Sunday in Portland, Maine.  And here I am, like many other bloggers and amateur foodies post-Sunday dinner sharing my pictures of what could possibly be the perfect roast chicken.

The things that elevate this simple roast chicken to the realms of perfection are: the simplicity of the seasoning (salt and pepper only), the scant use of fat (no butter or oil on the chicken itself, though I did throw some in the skillet for the sake of an awesome pan-sauce), and the lack of basting until post-roasting (you throw some thyme into the pan juices and baste a couple of times only AFTER taking the bird out of the oven).  It's so simple I am amazed it tastes as good as it does, and yet, as we always seem to conclude, the best things in life do tend to be the simplest ones.  

Some might complain that it's overly simple.  Some might say that chicken is not sophisticated enough for the carefully cultivated palates of real gourmets.  To them I say: try this chicken.  It is a shocking combination of juicy meat and utterly crispy skin, and the unadulterated chicken flavor really hits you.  In short, roast-chicken-wise, it's about as close to perfect as I've ever tasted.  Why not be bold in our statements?

* * *

For the sake of voyeurism, here are my original top five roast chicken picks, mostly from my pins on Pinterest, in list form (click links to check out the mouthwatering pictures):

Top Five Roast-worthy Roast Chicken Recipes

good anytime but best on a cozy winter day

 

5. Lemon-Garlic Roast Chicken (no recipe) from http://whatkatieate.blogspot.com

This looks to-die-for but, alas, it's just a picture.  I would have had to whip up this one from my own imagination and that's a no-go on a lazy Sunday.  What's with that Katie?!

4. Cardamom & Yoghurt Roast Chicken from tastefoodblog.com

Matt doesn't like Cardamom, but I love it.  This gets points for including spatchcockage and skillet roasting.

3. Spanish Roast Chicken with Citrus & Chorizo from http://pickyin.blogspot.com

If only we had good Chorizo in Maine!  Needless to say, this is right up my alley.

2. Lazy Sunday Roast Chicken from bagandbaguette.com

I'm not huge on rosemary but I love it paired with chicken and citrus.  The skin doesn't look crispy enough for me but those potatoes might make up for that.

1. Thomas Keller's Favorite Simple Roast Chicken from almostbourdain.blogspot.com

What would you eat at your last meal?  I have no clue off the top of my head but Thomas Keller unequivocally said this chicken. Well, that's a recommendation :)  Get the recipe and story behind it at the link above - a great little blog too.

Sunday Dinner: Thomas Keller's Simple Roast Chicken and Grilled Brussel Sprouts