A Hot Topic

I do love the lunch hour on school days, the house is quiet I get to eat whatever I want. As I blissfully ate my nutty burger and sauteed onions I perused a cookbook.  I was looking for a soup recipe that would use of some of the garden bounty.

What was that, you think soup is too hot for summertime?  Bah!  How hot is the food you cook on the stove top or in the oven?  Just as hot, I say.  I'm not whipping up a salubrious bowl of piping hot chili; no, not winter fare, but a nice bowl of garden soup to be enjoyed with some fresh dill rolls.  Incidentally, why is it we always hear about how hot soup is in the summer but no one EVER turns away hot rolls?  Food for thought!

Garden Soup
1 onion, chopped
1 Japanese eggplant (that's what I grew this year), diced
1 zucchini, diced (a medium size, not one of those jumbo jobs you find hidden under the leaves)
1 bell pepper, chopped
2 Anaheim chilies, chopped (because I have oodles)
3-4 cloves of garlic, minced
2-3 big tomatoes
A giant handful of fresh green beans (or purple, as the case may be today)
6 c. vegetable stock
2 Tbsp. tomato paste (I use the kind in a tube so this is easy)
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
Freshly chopped basil, oregano, parsley (about 2 Tbsp each, but I get crazy with herbs)
1/2 c. tiny pasta

In a large stockpot, heat some oil in the bottom then add the onion, eggplant, zucchini, pepper, garlic, and chilies and cook for about 10 minutes stirring often.  Add tomatoes and cook until they begin to break down, about 5 minutes.  Stir in vegetable stock, tomato paste, salt, pepper and herbs.  Cook on medium-low heat for about 15 minutes.  Stir in pasta and beans and cook an additional 12-15 minutes or until pasta is tender.  If you want (I usually want) toss in some more fresh herbs for some kick.  I have some hot oregano this year and it's amazing!

Enjoy, because that's what all this food is for!

The Seriousness of Vanilla Beans

A long time ago, just as I was starting to branch out in the world of baking, I read the brilliant idea about saving used vanilla bean pieces in sugar.  Since I was just starting I didn't use vanilla beans so didn't care much.  Well, the idea came back with a vengeance the first time I paid for a vanilla bean (ouch).  I now buy vanilla beans in bulk, so I employ this trick to stretch my purchase (and flavor) as much as possible.

Vanilla is serious business to me.  Slitting the bean down the center and scraping out the microscopic seeds is absolute bliss for me, but not having a purpose for those spent pods, which contain so much flavor, would be detrimental.  When I am making jam or ice cream, or something similarly wet or sticky, I will just toss in the pod after scraping out the seeds to further infuse with the luscious flavor, discarding the pod once the cooking is complete.  However, when I am only using the seeds, such as when I am making baked goods, I save the spent pods in sugar.

Once the seeds are scraped out I cut up the pod into smaller chunks and toss them into a sterilized jar and measure some sugar into the jar.  Today, I only used half a vanilla bean, so I added it to the jar of vanilla sugar I already had and added about 1/2 c. sugar to the jar and shook it up to blend.  The sugar will absorb the flavor and scent of the vanilla bean.  The pod pieces will become dry and brittle, but no matter, just leave them in the jar until you're ready to use the sugar.

I placed a little piece of plastic wrap over the jar and screwed on a reusable lid (I use the same plastic time and time again) and I store it in the pantry where I can see it.  When you're ready to use the seriously flavorful sugar, just sift out the pod pieces and use the sugar as you normally would, but with some intense vanilla flavor!

Ch-Ch-Changes

So, do you like the redesign?

I've been meaning to change things up here for a quite some time now, but with all of the other changes going on around me, my poor neglected blog had to remain so for a bit longer.  That is, until today!  Yellow is my favorite color, which is why I chose the background, but other than that, I just went with what was available.  If you happen to find some part of it difficult to read and/or see, please let me know and I will attempt to adjust (because I'm such a computer genius).

So, I'm making baguettes right now.  I seem to always be making baguettes.  My 16-yr old son will walk into the kitchen and promptly walk back out with an entire loaf in hand.  I cannot keep up with the bread-baking and it's only day 3 of the school year.  Between his eating me out of bread and the cost of his art supplies, this year proves to be a budget-bender.

Well, I hope to write some more; I need to write and I want to write.  Any suggestions?

Class of 1991

High School Reunions:  "Wow, can you believe how old we look?  There are bald guys here!  Can you believe that we have gray hair?  Gosh, it's been so long, what have you been up to?  I didn't recognize you!  You haven't changed a bit . . ." and so on, and so on.

The Vikings

Well, the answer is yes, I can believe how old we look.  Yes, some of our classmates have thinned on top and thickened in the middle.  Its been longer than a long time, it's been 20 years so of course you didn't recognize me because we've been out of school longer than we were in school.  More than half of my life has elapsed since I've seen you, but still, it was nice to see you.

My friends, I have no desire to still be 18; I have a 16 year old child, which incidentally, was how old I was when you knew me.  I have silver hair now woven amongst the gold and I find that I love the way it looks when I smile back at myself from the mirror; but now, when the smile fades, the lines no longer disappear.  Every line tells a story; they illustrate that I have stayed up late to feed babies and cuddle sick toddlers, and that I have smiled myself to tears watching them grow up.  Society and clever marketing say I need some miracle cream for the dark smudges ever-present beneath my eyes, but to me they say I paced the kitchen during a blizzard praying my husband would make it home from work.  My hands, no longer groomed and nails no longer sparkling, show signs of wrinkling, but I cannot help but think of how sometimes, in the right light, they resemble my mother's hands, the hands I held as she died.

So yes, I've aged 20 years and look the part, and allow me to thank God for that.  I am not nerdy Melanie, or annoying Melanie, or that Melanie who had a crush on the same boy as you so you refused to talk to me.  I am this Melanie, the one with a husband, two kids, a mortgage and a garden.  I have changed, I have grown.  Every imperfection that was thrown into sharp relief is shining and glorious evidence that I have lived and that I have loved.  Because of all of this I am able to see that in you, too.  So when I told you that you looked wonderful, I meant it.  You're all beautiful; lines, wrinkles, gray hair, no hair - all of it!  A quick trip down a memory lane was wonderful, and it was my honor to visit and remember, but High School Melanie has left the building, she doesn't exist anymore.  I do.  High School Melanie cannot be your friend, but I can, and I will.