Weekly photo challenge: Summer

Beef tenderloin grilled over briquettes with a bit of rain-soaked hickory for smoke. The Memorial Day weekend showers are good for something!

Today’s culinary experiment: Chive flowers

My chive plant is blossoming like a wedding bouquet. It’s really quite beautiful (unlike the rhubarb shoots my Beloved planted a couple of weeks ago), but I know chive flowers are edible, so today I beheaded my chives and picked a bowl full of purple potential.

I found a couple of recipes on the internet and combined them to make a tasty Japanese-inspired side dish. Chive flowers, like chive stems, have a mild onion flavor, and I imagine they’d taste quite good in a salad but I was afraid of the chewiness factor so I wanted to try cooking them.

Upon being presented his pretty but ungarnished plate, my Beloved, ever skeptical, even proclaimed, “It’s like a gourmet restaurant around here!” (He liked it.)

I served this dish with salmon and orzo, flecked with more snipped chives and sun-dried tomatoes. However you serve it, enjoy.

Chive Flower & Asparagus Stir-fry

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 2 tablespoons chicken broth
• 1/2 teaspoon sugar
• 1 teaspoon cornstarch
• 1/2 pound asparagus, trimmed and cut diagonally into 1-inch lengths
• 1 tablespoon peanut oil
• 1 tablespoon sesame seeds
• 2 tablespoons snipped chives
• About 15 chive flowers, prepared

Directions:

1. 

   Snip stems from blossoms to release petals.

   Prepare chive flowers by rinsing lightly so as not to remove the tiny droplets of nectar contained in each blossom. Remove primary stems to separate flowers and release individual petals.

2. Prepare sauce by whisking together soy sauce, broth, sugar and cornstarch.
3. Blanch asparagus in lightly salted boiling water for about 3 minutes or until crisp-tender; do not overcook. Remove from heat and refresh under cold water; drain well.
4. In wok over medium high heat, heat oil. Add sesame seeds and stir for one minute. Add chives and stir an additional minute. Add asparagus and stir frequently for 2 minutes. Reduce heat, add sauce, cover and cook for 2 minutes.
5. Remove lid, sprinkle chive petals over asparagus, cover and steam for 1 minute. Stir lightly and serve hot. Serves 2. If you remembered to save a couple of whole blossoms, garnish each plate.

In the heart of Minnesota

If you threw a dart at a map aiming for the heart of Minnesota, you’d hit Grey Eagle.

It’s surrounded by neatly cultivated farm fields which are lined with neatly stacked wood and field stones. The neat little silos are standing next to neatly wrapped round bails of hay. Main street in Grey Eagle is about a block long. At one end stands the church. At the other: Neat, nondescript buildings.

At high noon on Mother’s Day, one other car lined the street. The Village Cafe’s hand-lettered sign beckoned us, with empty bellies and no stomach for crowded brunch buffets: Open Sundays ’til 1.

We took two seats at the counter even though the rest of the place was empty. The daily special was potato pancakes, but I settled on the soup de jour, dourly noted on the chalkboard in English as “soup of the day”: Chicken dumpling soup, heavy on the dumplings, light on the chicken. My Beloved ordered a Midwestern favorite that is my own personal nightmare: Hot beef commercial. I’ve opined about my disgust for wet bread so I won’t do it again, but if you’re interested, read it here.

It was the pie chest that caught my eye. My mother makes a decadent, heavy sour cream raisin pie, the sort of baked good I would rarely attempt in my own kitchen. So I wanted to try the Village Cafe’s version. With a thick layer of meringue, the question of ice cream — hard or not — was not an issue.

The cold statement “We have hard ice cream” reminded me of a line in “Ladies in Retirement,” a play in which I acted in high school. My friend Jill had the line, “You’re hard,” which sent all the high schoolers into giggles whenever she recited it. Like the boy in the play, the ice cream at the Village Cafe was hard. And I wanted nothing to do with it. My Beloved side-stepped the issue, too, requesting a dollop of whipped cream for his pecan pie.

The pie, meringue and all, was nice. Just … nice. The meringue was sticky, and the lightweight custard could never beat my mother’s. Still, it satisfied my curiosity and my sweet tooth.

By now, two other couples had entered the cafe, probably as happy as we were to avoid a crowd. We left a tip and went on our way, back into the safe Central Minnesota uniformity.

Breaking bread with, or at least from, a friend

My friend Jill, whom I like to refer to alternately as “my best friend since seventh grade” and “the maid of honor at both of my weddings,” stopped by a visit.

The Minnesota resident was in Illinois on a mission for her work, and she came bearing gifts. She was fresh off an artisan bread class and shared a couple of loaves with me and my Beloved. Perfect timing. Here’s one of the pretty loaves:

Looks enormous, doesn’t it? It’s cracker bread, and it was filled with air. As instructed, I tapped on the top and was rewarded with crunchy shards of sesame-flecked dippers.

I served it with hummus and a bowl of homemade cream of asparagus soup (made without cream and garnished with asparagus tips). Mmm, mmm, good.

Thanks, Jill!

I can’t tell you how to make artisan bread (yeast and kneading are not my thing), but here’s the recipe for the soup:

“Cream” of Asparagus Soup

Ingredients:

• 1 russet potato, peeled and cubed
• 1 carrot, peeled and sliced
• 2 stalks celery, chopped
• 1/2 yellow onion, chopped
• 20-25 spears asparagus
• 4 cups chicken broth
• 1 tablespoon olive oil

Directions:

1. Break tough ends off asparagus and separate tips to use later. Roughly chop remainder into 1-inch pieces.
2. Heat chicken broth in a largish sauce pan and add all vegetables except asparagus tips. Simmer for 30 minutes or so until potato and carrots are tender.
3. Using an immersion blender, blend until smooth. Add olive oil and asparagus tips and simmer for 6-8 minutes (until tips are tender). Serves 4.

New cheesecake tools

Got to try out two new kitchen gadgets today, and look at the result:

That’s my Cherry Almond Cheesecake (click here for the recipe) made with my new springform pan from Pampered Chef and served on my new cake plate from Longaberger. We served it to my mother-in-law as an early treat for Mother’s Day (we had pieces, too).

It was as delicious as it is pretty.

3 things to love and 2 things to hate about sushi

To love:

• “Sushi” doesn’t automatically mean “raw fish.” Many options — including California rolls, shrimp variations and tempura options — abound for the rawaphobe diner. If you’re more adventurous, try tuna, which is actually awful if overcooked so you might as well enjoy it raw. I also like rolls with salmon and eel, but that’s me. Whatever you do, if you don’t want raw fish, don’t order sashimi (that doesn’t even come with the rice!).
• Roe is wonderful. When it’s little. Roe is fish eggs. When it’s little, it’s like little fizzy bubbles, popping in your mouth. (When it’s big, it’s gross.) Roe is a flashy garnish for some sushi rolls, and not every place has it. The ones that do are worth visiting again.
• Umami, baby! Sushi has umami, or savoriness, by the truckload. The vinegared rice, the various fish, the seaweed, the pickled ginger — oh! Did I mention wasabi? And a chef at a good sushi joint feeds the eyes, too, with pretty little garnishes made of carrot or radish. Art on a plate.

To hate:

• Ack, the sodium! Between the salty edamame, the miso soup and the soy sauce, I’m drinking water like a camel all night long after a sushi binge.
• The tradition to eat each piece in one bite. Honestly, it was easier to abide by this polite approach in Japan, but here in a America where bigger is better, a single piece of sushi can be more than a mouthful. When a single piece prevents you from breathing while eating it, you’re uncomfortable. But I suffer through it because I’m not such a rube as to try cutting a piece with a fork. Never, never, never. When in Rome, eat as the Romans do (or Japan … whatever).

Extreme Makeover: Leftovers Edition

Leftovers are not boring retreads of yesterday’s meal to me. They are the opportunity for creativity in a styrofoam box.

Occasionally, I will simply reheat leftovers in the microwave and eat them, but more often, I am looking for an unrecognizable reincarnation to enjoy.

Yesterday was a blockbuster day for leftovers doppelgängers:

• Breakfast: Leftover spinach and artichoke dip was mixed with a slice of fried bacon to make the filling for an omelet. The omelet itself was spiked with leftover kale pesto (yes we make kale pesto in this house) and topped with leftover avocado. Take that, Kellogg’s boxed cereal!
• Lunch: Leftover fried chicken takeout was way too heavy for a midday meal, so I skinned it, cubed the meat and made chicken salad (complete with mayo and two kinds of mustard: Hearty Course Ground Grey Poupon and Classic Yellow French’s) for my Beloved’s sandwich. He had a side of leftover tomato-roasted red pepper soup. I enjoyed a steak salad, prepared with Friday night’s leftover rib eye from Texas Roadhouse plus feta cheese, walnuts and dried cranberries. No boring soup, salad and sandwich here!
• Supper: My steak on Friday came with sautéed onions and mushrooms, but they were rejected as salad fixings in lunch. But they became tasty additions along with celery and garlic to a wild rice pilaf, which served as a foundation for Fire-Roasted Italian Cod (thanks, Schwan’s).

Now I have 2 tablespoons of chicken salad (cracker topping?) and a serving of wild rice pilaf to use up. Hmm, I wonder how I’ll enjoy those leftovers?

Prayer for rhubarb

We may be pushing the limits of Zone 5, but my Beloved got his hands dirty yesterday planting things.

Here it is, late April, and we’re putting seedlings in the cold, dry ground and hoping for the best.

In a testimony to our commitment to this underwater house, we invested in a rhubarb plant.

I didn’t know one could plant rhubarb. I thought this strange flora just grew in certain places, situated there by luck or happenstance. Nope, it turns out your can plant this fruit? vine? bush? as long as you have the patience to allow it to grow for a couple of years before your intended harvest.

I had a rhubarb plant in the backyard of the first house I bought. I still own that house but it’s occupied by renters. I wonder if I could appear on the porch of that abode, claiming rights to the rhubarb in the back yard.

I only need a few stalks. One makes rhubarb crisp but once a season.

In any case, my Beloved has a yen for rhubarb pie (he’s getting crisp, not pie, but we can argue about that in three years hence) so here it is, struggling for life:

Impressive, isn’t it. Those spindly pink stalks? Squint — they’re the things with little green leaves on the end. Not a weed but a rhubarb plant. Trust me. It said so on the package.

He also planted a couple of raspberry plants in the “federally protected wetlands” beyond the fence in the back yard. I suspect the deer may find them irresistible, but we’ll see. Like the rhubarb, it’ll take a couple of years to harvest the fruit of our investment.  The raspberry plants sit beneath the mulberry tree, which looks dead to me now but yielded several cups of mulberries last June.

Looks can be deceiving.

In any case, a prayer for the little plants is in order. I found this stanza in a prayer titled “The Refuge of the Glen” from my book of “Graces: Prayers & Poems for Everyday Meals and Special Occasions” book by June Cotner:

I search for fruits from vines and trees
As I walk among the falling leaves,
I watch an eagle as he glides,
And think what wonders God provides.

Sweet treat: Fudgy brownies made without butter

Well, the universe didn’t deliver any big boxes today, but I did make some delicious brownies! I don’t think I’ve shared this yummy recipe for a chocolately dessert you might consider good for you — or at least — not bad for you.

They’re made with just a little canola oil, instead of butter, and the original recipe called for dried cherries. I used walnuts today (which are full of good fats). The recipe originally appeared in the Daily Herald.

These brownies were delicious with “War Horse” tonight. Keep the Kleenex nearby.

Dark Chocolate Brownies

Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 2/3 cup powdered sugar
• 3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1-1/2 tablespoons canola oil
• 6 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate chips, divided
• 1/4 granulated sugar
• 2 tablespoons light corn syrup, blended with 3 tablespoons lukewarm water
• 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
• Pinch of salt
• 1 large egg
• 3/4 cup dried cherries or chopped walnuts

Directions:

1. Position a rack in the center of oven. Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Coast an 8-inch-square baking pan with cooking spray.
2. In a small bowl, sift together the flour, powdered sugar and cocoa powder.
3. In a heavy, medium saucepan, combine the oil and half of the chocolate chips.Place the pan over the lowest heat and cook, stirring constantly, until just melted and smooth (be careful that the chocolate does not overheat).
4. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the granulated sugar, corn syrup mixture, almond extract and salt until the sugar dissolves. Stir in the egg until smoothly incorporated. Gently stir in the dry ingredients. Fold in the cherries or walnuts and the remaining 3 ounces chocolate chips just until well blended. Transfer the batter to the prepared pan, spreading evenly.
5. Bake until almost firm in the center and a toothpick comes out with some moist batter clinging to it, 25-30 minutes. Let cool. If you cut too soon, you’ll make a mess of things so don’t get too anxious.

Tasty crepes, sweet or savory

The old family recipe for lemon crepes is written in pencil in my stepdaughter’s handwriting on a slip of notepaper from her alma mater.

Once every couple of months, I fish it out of Ye Old Pile Of Recipes (several inches of interesting dishes ripped from magazines and newspapers) and my Beloved whips up a batch with a few expert flicks of his wrist and a nonstick pan.

It’s Morgan’s favorite breakfast and she stayed with us last night, so it was on the menu this morning. She enjoys it served with lemon sauce, and that’s the way they are almost always served. Since I experiment with all my recipes, I fiddled with this sacred recipe, too, and I discovered this morning these crepes are delicious in a savory version, too.

Perhaps you’ll enjoy them for Easter morning or another special morning coming up.

Crepes

Ingredients:

• 3 eggs
• 2 tablespoons oil
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1-1/2 cups milk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 cup flour

Instructions:

1. Blend all ingredients except flour.
2. Add flour and mix well.
3. Heat a crepe pan or non-stick frying pan over medium heat. Brush with melted butter to lightly grease. Pour 2 tablespoons of batter into the pan and tilt the pan in a circular motion, swirling the batter to evenly cover the base. Cook until the edge of the crepe begins to curl. Turn and cook until golden underneath. Your crepes should ideally be almost thin enough for you to see through.
4. Prepare the crepes and pile on a plate until serving.
5. Serve with Lemon Sauce if you’re a purist or with a savory filling (see following).

Lemon Sauce

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup evaporated milk
• 1/2 cup butter
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon lemon extract

Instructions:

1. Boil milk, butter and sugar together in a saucepan on the stove.
2. Remove from heat and add lemon extract.
3. To serve, fold two or three crepes on a plate, and pour lemon sauce over all. Also good if you stuff crepes with fresh raspberries or strawberries and top everything with whipped cream.

Savory Stuffing

Ingredients:

• 1 teaspoon oil
• 1 green onion, sliced
• 1/2 cup fresh spinach leaves, chopped
• 2 slices bacon, fried
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 1/4 cup cottage cheese
• 1 tablespoon parmesan cheese
• salt & pepper to taste

1. Heat oil in nonstick skillet over medium high heat. Add onion and spinach and saute until wilted.
2. Add cheeses to beaten eggs and add to pan with onion and spinach. Add bacon. Cook like scrambled eggs until curdled.
3. To serve, fill two crepes with filling and roll. Top with sour cream if desired.