Sunny Lunch

Did I tell you I've been swimming? Well, I have. Two or three times per week, I shrug my lumpy old body into a swimsuit and go down to our local natatorium where a handsome young coach with dark curls devises workouts designed to ready me for my afternoon nap. I churn back and forth for an hour, getting stronger and faster each week but none of the other swimmers are in any danger of being passed. I'm there to make the others feel good about their fitness.

Sometimes, my cousin Jan joins me, driving down from Petaluma for swimming and lunch. We are mildly competitive about our swimming - she's faster unless we are using the kickboards, when for some unknown reason I can usually touch the wall first.

Anyway, we had just finished our swim and were headed into the house for lunch when My Beloved pulled up in his car looking like a thundercloud. Turns out he had had a lousy morning trying to help a customer, was two hours past his usual lunch time, and was in a very, very bad mood. He even threw his car keys - when he's really irked, he throws small objects. Tantrums are so rare with him that I figured lunch was needed - pronto!

Here's what I quickly prepared; open faced sandwiches of roasted turkey breast, pre-cooked Italian sausage and Swiss cheese, sort of a turkey melt but with mild Italian sausage added. The steps are so easy as to be laughable; from bottom to top - toast, butter, turkey, sausage slices, cheese. Run under the broiler until the cheese bubbles and serve.

It was so good, it cured his bad mood after the second bite. It's not pretty but, man, is it ever delicious! As I was photographing my plate, he was laughing and tossing a sunflower napkin ring into the frame to try to improve the picture. He went back to work with a spring in his step, normal optimism restored. The thundercloud had passed and the sun emerged.

Come Roasting Season

Roasted turkey breast. Roasted cauliflower. Roasted potatoes. Roasted onions. All simply rolled in a small sploosh of olive oil, salted and peppered before sliding them into a 375 degree oven for an hour or so. You can get fancier than that, but you don't have to.

It's getting to be that time of year. Rooting around in the fridge, I discovered a couple of Yukon gold potatoes, a small head of cauliflower and half a gigantic onion to roast alongside the Diestel turkey breast I bought while I was over in Marin looking for a present for the baby's mother. She did all the heavy lifting in producing this beautiful baby, after all - she deserves a treat, too.

I found the perfect present for her, a couple of fun things for the Big Sister (who is now a very grownup 3.5 years old) and even a few goodies for the newest family member - a onesie that says "Party in my crib. 3am", a tiny black hoodie with a tiger on the back and a pair of fuzzy pajamas. I also found the turkey breast, perfect for the start of roasting season.

White Christmas (Dinner)

Ever notice how some recipes you once made and loved now seem somehow dull or flat? Sadly, this was the case with my formerly-loved recipe for Turkey Tetrazzini that my sister gave me years ago.

It was always creamy and rich with Parmesan cheese so I knew going in that it wouldn't be a light meal. That's usually fine for winter dinners - I like them to be sustaining. This time, however, either my taste buds have atrophied or it was just too bland.

My besetting sin as a cook is that even while I'm eating a meal, I'm analyzing how I could have improved it instead of just enjoying it. Blame it on my science background. Anyway, this dish would be marvelous with just a few tweaks.

First, I'd have many more mushrooms and they'd be of more than one variety; I'd like more earthiness. Second, one can never have too much Parm/Reg, in my view - I'd double it.
I liked the crunch of celery lightly sautéed for texture and the turkey was tasty with the tangy sauce. I added frozen peas just before serving to thaw and lightly cook them, and that was a good idea - their sweetness was a nice foil to the tang of the cheese. I also added some coarsely chopped Italian parsley as garnish but next time I'd add lots more and stir it in so there would be little hits of intense green throughout the sauce. After I made this, I found a recipe online that mentioned adding almonds and I think that would be genius - some coarsely chopped raw or toasted almonds would be heaven.

See what I mean? Not a wholesale re-do, just a few tweaks, and this white Christmas dinner would be singing in a whole different key.

Turkey Tetrazzini
(Comments in parenthesis are the tweaks)

1 cup white sauce (melt 1 Tbs. butter, stir 1 Tbs. flour into it and cook for a few minutes; add 1 cup milk or half-and-half, a bit at a time, stirring constantly while the sauce thickens)
1 cup turkey (I used leftover from Thanksgiving) cut into bite-size pieces
1/2 cup cooked spaghetti, cut up (I never cut up pasta and I used linguine this time)
1/2 cup sliced mushrooms (I'd use at least a cup and perhaps more, and I'd mix up the varieties)
1-2 stalks celery, sliced crosswise
1/3 cup parmesan cheese (I grated Parm/Reg freshly - it's worth the effort)
(1 cup of frozen or fresh peas, stirred in at the end just long enough to heat them)
(1/4 cup coarsely chopped Italian parsley)
(Coarsely chopped raw or toasted almonds for garnish)

Sauté mushrooms & celery in a little butter while making the white sauce. Combine the two, add the cheese and then the turkey pieces. Serve hot over spaghetti. (I made the white sauce in the same pan as I sautéed the veggies - just pushed them aside and made the sauce in the middle. It works fine and saves washing another pot)

Open Wide

As a child, my younger brother was a picky eater, something that astonished and worried his parents and three older siblings, fine trenchermen one and all. He would spit out any baby food he didn't like and turn his head disdainfully away from spoons aimed at his mouth with the exhortation to "Open wide!"

He refused just about everything except pancakes, waffles, thin asparagus spears, peanut butter and butter sandwiches on thin white bread, and a certain brand of peanut butter cookies.

We tried everything from bribery to force to get him to widen his palate but he steadfastly refused. We even, to our everlasting shame, gave permission to try to a rather bullying neighbor who claimed he had forced his kids to eat. Scooter defeated us all and sent the bully away shaking his head. Finally, around the age of six or seven, he grudgingly added hot dogs, hamburgers and broccoli tops (no stems!) to his repertoire. Today, he's a good eater, although he still resolutely refuses shellfish.

All of which has virtually nothing to do with turkey soup that I found in the freezer, thawed and embellished with fresh veggies except that in order to eat this soup, you load up a spoonful and must "Open wide!"

Turkey? In June?

Perhaps it seems like a madcap, crazy thing to those of you who eat turkey only at Thanksgiving or in dynamited and pressed form in a sandwich, but My Beloved and I love turkey all year 'round. One of our favorite ways to prepare it, since we are only two in the house (not counting the ever-eager Cora), is to put half a free-range turkey breast on the kettle grill and let the charcoal do its magic.

Before committing it to the flames, I place the turkey on a square of tripled aluminum foil folded to the size of the breast, just to protect the bottom from the full blaze of the heat. I usually smear or sprinkle stuff on the skin - this time, some olive oil, a sprinkling of garlic powder and a dusting of rubbed sage, plus pepper, of course. I slide the foil-backed breast onto the grill and clap on the cover.

As the smoke swirls out the holes in the lid, I prep whatever veggies we are eating that day - in this case two of our fresh Pezzini Farms artichokes steamed - set the table, pour the beverage and by the time I'm finished, so is the turkey. It takes about 40-45 minutes for a large one at roughly 300 degrees (our Weber has a thermometer built in to the lid). You'll know when it's ready if the juice runs clear when pierced in the thickest part; be sure to check often toward the end of the cooking as it's a small window between "perfect and juicy" and "white and dry."

We serve it with cranberry sauce even though it's summer; call us nutty, but we think this is a summer meal fit for a king.

Tummy Settling Soup

Oops, My Beloved seemed to have eaten something that didn't agree with him, so he was on the binnacle list for a day or two (he's fine, now). Wanting to give him something fairly bland to quiet his upset stomach, I remembered the turkey soup I made from our smoked turkey and busted it out of the freezer for a comeback.

It was really nothing but turkey broth made with a few veggies and with the pickings from the turkey thrown in, so I added a handful of Frenched green beans, some salt and pepper, and some of the onion-and-chicken-brothed Camargue red rice to the pot. The instructions from the red rice had me cook it with extra liquid and then drain off the excess; that seemed like a waste of good goozle, so I saved the overflow and added it into this soup, just because. A slow simmer and it was ready to serve.

Tasted good, very turkey and rich, but a little flat, somehow. The idea came to add a squeeze of lemon to the pot and that woke it right up! I have another couple of containers of this soup in the freezer, so I'm going to write right on the lids - "Jazz it up with lemon!"

It may not be a miracle cure for an iffy tummy but he ate it with pleasure and, like a good doctor, it did no harm.

Painterly Soup

While we were painting the bathroom, I made a big pot of turkey soup from the bones of a roast I made for cousin Sherry's combination retirement and birthday party. That's the nice thing about soup - lots of time to paint while the bones simmer with the onion and render their goodness into the broth. Strain out the bones and pick off the meat to return to the pot.

I threw in some green beans and zucchini slices from the garden, frozen white corn, fleur de sel, dill weed, fresh ground pepper and some bright red strips of sweet pepper to cook for just a few minutes at the end. Such bright colors to rival what we are doing in the bathroom - and such fresh flavors.