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Big birds are for celebrations.  Medium birds are for everyday.  And tiny birds are for everyday celebrations. I’m not sure why quail seem so exotic–they’re tasty, versatile and cook quickly & easily.  No one has to argue over who gets the white meat and who gets the dark.  In the midst of holiday madness, I feel a greater need to make quiet family dinners a reason to celebrate.  We realize how much we depend on our conversations around the family table to connect, to laugh together, to work out problems and to stay organized.  This is definitely not a time to stay in the kitchen making elaborate dinners, but a warming, fragrant bowl of citrus-scented greens and juicy grilled quail makes us all happy, ready again to face the flurry of holiday madness to come.

Grilled Quail with Winter Greens Agrodolce

4 semi-boneless quail

3 stems rosemary, needles pulled off & minced

olive oil

salt & pepper

2 bunches greens (collards, kale, mustard, broccoli greens, brussels sprouts greens, or a combination)

3 cloves garlic, chopped

1 onion, cut into slivers

juice of 1 orange

2 Tbs. white balsamic vinegar

3 Tbs. golden raisins

1 Tbs. capers, rinsed and dried

1/4 c. olive oil + more for sauteeing

salt & pepper

Cover raisins with vinegar.  Set aside.  Rub quail with rosemary, salt, pepper, and olive oil.  Heat a cast iron grill pan over med-high heat.  Lower heat to medium and grill quail, turning frequently.  Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet or braising pan and add onions and garlic.  Cook over medium low heat until onions are golden.  Chop greens and rinse in a colander.  Set aside.  Drain raisins, reserving vinegar, and add to onions along with capers.  Continue cooking over med-low heat.  Meanwhile, combine orange juice and vinegar in a small bowl.  Slowly drizzle in 1/4 cup olive oil while whisking constantly until emulsified. Raise heat under onions, and add greens to pan, with water still clinging to the leaves.  Stir and continue cooking until greens are tender.  Pour half of dressing over hot quail, and stir the remaining into greens. Place piles of greens on dinner plates and serve quail on top.

“Solvitur Ambulando.”  Solve it by walking.  Every day–rain, shine, cold, or not enough time.  I walk, not to get “in shape,” not to lose a few pounds, but to keep from losing my mind.  I leave the house carrying around the stresses of motherhood, entrepreneurship, citizenship, the human condition, a broken agricultural system, and I come home lighter, easier, remembering to breathe.  The last few weeks have been magical.  Piles of crunchy yellow leaves to shuffle through, golden sunlight, leaves fluttering through the air like an autumn snowglobe.  I am a person who takes a lot on.  I worry.  I’m angst-ridden.  I look for things to do that make me feel rooted and connected.  Present.  Cooking gives me that.  So does walking.  When I’m moving, my mind can wander.  I can remember everything I’m grateful for, instead of just fretting.  Healthy, funny, beautiful children.  A business I love, that constantly challenges and inspires me.  A country filled with people who have more in common than they sometimes realize.  A spirit that knows how to renew itself.  And farmers who work tirelessly to feed us nourishing and delicious food, keeping us connected to the seasons and the world outside our doors.  I can walk through the fallen leaves in a delicious melancholy, and I can come home to cook a dinner like this one, simple and fragrant with ginger and chiles, full of the plentiful, life-giving greens of the season, and feel replenished and comforted and at ease.

Asian Pork Meatballs with Braised Winter Greens

1 pound ground pork

2 small shallots, minced fine

1 small shallot, sliced thin

4 small Thai chiles, minced fine

1″ piece fresh ginger root, grated (squeeze juice from remaining ginger pulp)

salt & pepper to taste

1 bunch fresh greens, washed & torn into 2″ pieces

2 Tbs. soy sauce

1 tsp. toasted sesame oil

1 Tbs. neutral flavored oil (like grapeseed)

1/4 c. chicken stock

Combine ground pork with minced chiles, ginger, ginger juice, and shallots.  Season to taste with salt & pepper and form into golfball-sized meatballs.  Heat high-sided skillet or wok over high heat, add sesame oil and grapeseed oil and lower heat to medium.  Brown meatballs all over, remove to a plate and set aside.  Quickly saute sliced shallots, then, rinse greens, and with water still clinging to leaves, add to hot wok, adding more oil as necessary.  Briefly saute until wilted.  Add meatballs back to the wok, nestling amongst the greens.  Add chicken stock and soy sauce, cover and lower heat to medium-low.  Braise just until meatballs are cooked through.  Serve with warm jasmine rice.

“Mom, are you crying?” Tess asked incredulously as I finished the last pages of These Happy Golden Years, the last of the Laura Ingalls Wilder Little House on the Prairie series.  I somehow grew up with the notion that I had read these books, but when Tess and I began reading the first one, I realized my memories were all Michael Landon and Melissa Gilbert.  The books are amazing–honestly some of the best books I’ve ever read.  The woods and prairies, the sheer space and breadth and silence of late 19th century America come alive on these pages.  Details of daily life, a sense of being huddled inside a barely-adequate cabin with family on the vast and unending prairie, a fascinating sense of just how incredibly hard it was to get from sunup to sundown, admiration for the gritty determination required to conquer the land and squeeze a living out of it, bending it to human will–all of this is thrown into contrast by the ever-mournful tone of a writer who is conflicted about the loss of these wide-open spaces, who knows by the time she is writing that the buffalo herds and the prairie grasses and the great wide-open empty spaces are gone.  As modern readers, we also bring to her stories the knowledge of how all of that farming and pioneer spirit forever changed our land–the topsoil depleted, the prairies covered over by sprawling cities, the native Americans forever gone.  The books are also riveting and funny and charming, and are lovely meditations on family and food.  One of my favorite scenes takes place in Little Town on the Prairie.  At Ben Woodworth’s birthday party,the guests are all served a slice of orange to eat with the birthday cake, and after pages and pages and months and months of corn pone and salt pork, your head practically explodes when you imagine this slice of orange on the flat, featureless prairie, covered over with drifts of snow for month after month, nothing green on your plate, much less orange and juicy and tart and sweet.  Can you really imagine?  Next time you eat an orange, remove yourself from the “I-can have-anything-anytime” world and really, truly taste it.  Read the books–they’ll make you cry too.

Tangerine Sorbet and Chevre Tart

adapted from Lottie + Doof

  • Tart Dough (see below)
  • 5 large eggs, separated, at room temperature
  • Pinch of salt
  • 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 9 ounces soft goat cheese
  • 3 tablespoons cornstarch
  • 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400° F. Generously butter an 8-inch springform pan. line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper.

On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out into a circle that’s about 10 1/2 inches in diameter. Fit the dough into the springform pan , pressing it against the bottom and up the sides. It will pleat and fold in on itself as it climbs the side—do the best you can to straighten it out, but don’t worry about it, since perfection is impossible here and not really important. Put the springform in the fridge while you make the filling.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or in a large bowl with a hand mixer, whip the egg whites with the salt until they start to form soft peaks. Still whipping, gradually add 2 tablespoons of the sugar, and beat until the whites hold firm, but still glosssy peaks. If the whites are in the bowl of your stand mixer, transfer them gingerly to another bowl.

With the mixer—use the paddle attachment now, if you’ve got one—beat the egg yolks, goat cheese, the remaining 1/2 cup sugar, the cornstarch, and vanilla until very smooth and creamy, about a minute or two. Switch to a rubber spatula and stir one quarter of the whites into the mixture to lighten it, then gently fold in the rest of the whites. Scrape the batter into the crust and put the springform on the lined baking sheet.

Bake for 15 minutes, then turn the oven temperature down to 350° F. Continue to bake for about 35 minutes more, or until the top, which will have cracked, is dark brown and firm; a thin knife inserted into the center of the cake should come out clean. Transfer the pan to a cooling rack and let the tourteau rest for 10 minutes.

Carefully remove the sides of the springform. Cool the cake to room temperature before serving. The cake will deflate as it cools.

Tart Dough

  • 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 6 tablespoons very cold unsalted butter, cut into bits
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 teaspoon ice water

Put the flour, sugar, and salt int the processor and whir a few times to blend. Scatter bits of butter over the flour and pulse several times to blend. Scatter the bits of butter over the flour and pulse several times, until the butter is coarsely mixed into the flour. Beat the egg with the ice water and pour it into the bowl in 3 small additions, whirring after each one. You’ll have a moist, malleable dough that will hold together when pinched. Turn the dough out onto a work surface, gather it into a ball, and flatten it into a disk.

Chill the dough for at least 3 hours.

Tangerine Sorbet

2 c. tangerine or orange, grapefruit or Meyer lemon juice

1/2 c. sugar

Place sugar in small saucepan and add just enough juice to moisten it.  Heat over med-high heat until sugar melts completely.  Stir sugar mixture into juice and chill thoroughly.  Freeze in ice cream maker according to manufacturers directions.

Sometimes, when a restaurant closes, it leaves a hole in your heart.  Such was the case with Azul on Caesar Chavez, in the beautifully restored house that’s now home to The Shuck Shack.  Comfortably hip, Azul served the best sandwiches and sides of any cafe I’d ever been to.  The vibe was just right, and the food was perfect.  Interesting and familiar at the same time.  Deviled eggs, a grilled eggplant panini prepared with care and attention.  Zapp’s potato chips.  Really good iced tea.  The real joy was in the details.  Perfectly sliced and toasted bread.  Sides that were so much more than an afterthought.  I’m always most impressed when restaurants put care and attention into everyday dishes.  Stacked and heavily garnished masterpieces make me weary.  But a really good sandwich?  That, I will come back for time and again.  It’s really hard to run a restaurant.  There’s no time for family, or really for anything other than running the restaurant.  As someone who had to make the hard decision to walk away and close the doors, I completely get it.  But I really, really miss Azul.  And I really miss this green bean salad, one of the most inspired sides I’d ever had. Cutting the green beans into tiny slivers completely changed the taste and texture of something so familiar as to be mundane. Azul’s green bean salad was the opposite of mundane.  It was crunchy and bright, nutty, and tart with lemon juice and parsley.  Sometimes a restaurant can make simple things new again.  When it’s also the perfect place to sit in a corner with a good book or laugh with a friend, and when it costs less than $10 to have lunch, that’s magic.

1/2 pound green beans

1 shallot, minced

small handful of Italian parsley leaves

2 Tbs. sesame seeds, toasted

3 Tbs. sliced almonds, toasted

1/4 c. chevre, crumbled

2 Tbs. lemon juice

2 Tbs. white wine or champagne vinegar

1 Tbs. whole grain mustard

1/3 c. olive oil

Remove stems from green beans and slice crosswise into 1/4″ “coins.”  Blanch by adding to rapidly boiling water for 30 seconds, then plunging into ice water.  Let sit in ice water for about 10 minutes, then drain and dry.  Place beans in a bowl, and add minced shallot, parsley, sesame seeds and almonds.  Set aside.  In a smaller bowl, whisk together lemon juice, vinegar, mustard, and shallots.  Continue whisking while slowly drizzling in olive oil until dressing is emulsified.  Add dressing to green beans and toss to coat evenly.  Place on serving piece and top with crumbled goat cheese.

When my grandmother made pastry, she used the palm of her hand for a measuring cup.  After years of practice, she knew the soft weight of a cup of flour or exactly how much sweet cream butter to cut into the dough.  Pie crust, biscuits, homemade cookies, cakes, yeast rolls, cornbread, crusty loaves, or tea breads were on her table every day.

I learned from her the science and magic of pastry and bread dough: ice water in pie crust keeps the layers so flaky the crust will shatter under your fork; kneading bread dough releases the gluten from the wheat molecules and makes your bread chewy; use dried beans for pie weights, don’t handle biscuits too much or they get tough; heat the cast iron skillet to smoking hot before you put your cornbread batter in…so many secrets, and I wish every day she was still here to pass more on.

An accent in the same way that meat is in my kitchen, bread and pastry nevertheless make life incredibly easy.  Toast often is an edible plate for favorite things and seasonal vegetables, flaky pastry surrounds heaps of seasonal fruit or chicken and vegetables, a tiny bite of a buttery shortbread cookie satisfies my cravings, crusty ciabatta sops up the last drops of a rustic soup, and toasted sourdough or a soft brioche roll turns last night’s dinner into a delicious lunch.

Practice, practice, practice.  The beauty of pastry is in the science.  Three ingredients you will come to know so well, molecular qualities become intuitive, light fingers move with confidence all on their own and know all the floury secrets passed down over generations.

Savory Butternut Squash Tart with Pancetta and Gorgonzola

1/2 recipe savory tart dough, rolled into a circle, 1/4″ thick

3 small or 2 medium butternut squash, peeled and sliced into half circles

1 shallot, minced

1 T thyme leaves

1 T sage, minced

1 T minced fresh rosemary

salt & pepper

pinch red chili flakes

2 T olive oil

1 T butter

1/3 c. ricotta cheese

1 egg

2 oz. gorgonzola

3-4 very thin slices pancetta

Preheat oven to 350.  For uniform squash slices, use just the squash necks and save the bellies for another use, like soup or risotto.  Toss squash slices in a bowl with shallots, herbs and red pepper flakes.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Heat butter and olive oil in a skillet and briefly saute squash slices, until just barely tender.  Remove from heat and set aside.  Whisk egg into ricotta cheese.  Transfer pastry circle to baking sheet lined with parchment paper.  Spread ricotta egg mixture on pastry circle, leaving a 2-3″ border.  Arrange squash slices on top.  Crumble gorgonzola and scatter on top of squash.  Fold edges of pastry around the filling.  Drape pancetta loosely over the filling.  Bake in middle of oven for about 25-30 minutes, until pastry is golden, cheese is bubbling and pancetta is crisp.

Savory Tart Dough

Makes enough for one double crust pie or two single crust pies.

2 1/2 c all purpose flour

1 t salt

1 t sugar

2 sticks unsalted butter, chilled and cut into small pieces

1/4-1/2 c ice water

Make sure all ingredients are very, very cold.  I sometimes even put my food processor bowl and blade in the freezer.  In the bowl of a food processor, combine flour, salt and sugar.  Add butter and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal, 8-10 seconds.  Do not over process.  With machine running, add ice water a little at a time, just until dough comes together without being wet or sticky.  Squeeze a small amount together to test it.  Dump mixture out onto a piece of parchment paper and bring together into a ball.  Squeeze in any loose crumbs or flour mixture.  Small bits of butter should still be visible in the dough.  It is essential not to let the dough get warm, or to process or handle too much.  Keeping the gluten in the cells is the secret to tender, flaky pastry.  Breaking the cell walls and releasing the gluten will make pastry rubbery or chewy.  Use your fingertips as much as possible, rather than the warm palm of your hand for handling it.  Divide into two balls, flatten slightly and chill for at least an hour.  Dough can be frozen as well–well-wrapped it keeps for up to six weeks in the freezer.

Montesino Farm is one of the world’s special places.  We drive there from Austin, rolling our windows down when we get to Wimberley.  As the winding roads take us closer, our cares fly out the window.  By the time we cross the river and into the enfolding embrace of the ring of hills surrounding the fields, we’re breathing deeper and easier.  The sunshine feels mellow and the breeze soft.  Melody and David work hard here to bring perfect produce to market and to Farmhouse customers, but their wide smiles are proof that hard work has its rewards.  Their knowledgeable hands bring order and beauty to this place, and a sense of peace hangs over the carefully tended earth.  Once I get there, and the fire warms me, and I start cutting and chopping beautiful radishes and eggplant from the field, I never want to leave.  We sit around after dinner and the children tell us ghost stories.  One perfect star rises in the ink dark sky, over the fields and the sleeping animals, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

Ribeye & Mushroom Stroganoff

adapted from Jamie at Home by Jamie Oliver

1 ribeye steak, cut thin across the grain into 1″ wide strips

extra virgin olive oil

1 medium red onion, peeled and finely chopped

1 clove of garlic, peeled and finely sliced

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon paprika

2 cups mixed interesting mushrooms, wiped clean, torn into bite-sized pieces (crimini, shiitake, oyster)

a bunch of fresh flat-leaf parsley, leaves picked and finely chopped, stalks finely chopped

2T  butter

3T brandy

zest of 1/2 a lemon

1/4 c crème fraîche

Toss the meat with salt, pepper and paprika.  Heat oil and butter in a large, heavy Dutch oven or braising pan over medium heat.  Brown the meat well in batches and set aside.  Add onion, garlic and mushrooms to pan, adding more butter if necessary (do this in batches and set aside with meat as you go if necessary).  Saute until beginning to caramelize.  Return meat to the pan and add brandy and any accumulated juices from meat and mushrooms.  Once everything has simmered together briefly, stir in lemon zest, parsley and creme fraiche and serve with rice or buttered noodles.

When I was younger and not so wise, I was friends with a couple.  Let’s call them Henry and Sarah.  They were funny and smart, interesting, going places.  We all hit the road one weekend to celebrate another friend’s birthday in Houston.  After a lavish meal where the wine poured freely, I relaxed, thinking about the next full day I’d enjoy in the big city before heading back to Beaumont and the daily grind.  ”Where should we go for brunch tomorrow?” I wondered allowed.  Henry looked at me in disdain, his usual engaging expression clouding over with something that looked a little bit like disgust.  He brushed a crumb off the sleeve of his sleek blazer. “Brunch?  We just ate.  My life doesn’t revolve around food,” he said, secure and certain in his slim righteousness. Well, as you can imagine, that was pretty much it for Henry and Sarah.  ”What does it revolve around?” I wondered.  What other focus is there that encompasses everything that makes us human–the emotional, the spiritual, the political, the practical, the aesthetic, the intellectual experience?  I never made that mistake again.

My friend Rachel Lomas knows from food.  On the first day of school two years ago, another friend called across the schoolyard, “You need to meet my friend Rachel.  She loves food too!”  It didn’t hurt that she and her husband Andy are also funny, smart, interesting, going places.  Last year, I invited Rachel along on a weekend trip that included food writers, chefs, farmers, growers and photographers.  There was lots of impressive food coming to the table that weekend, but we all elbowed each other out of the way to get to Rachel’s dishes–a pork and green chile stew, crab dip with creme fraiche, and a radish salad that was unlike anything we’d ever tasted.  Rachel is talented in an intuitive way.  Her food tastes vibrant and alive, surprising and exciting.  Best of all, she loves to share recipes, and they always come out as good as you remember.  And on top of that, she’s the kind of friend you can call to come on a picnic at the last minute.  She’ll show up in high heels, bringing a bottle of pink champagne and her beautiful family, she’ll laugh at your stories, and she’ll wonder what we should eat the next time we get together.

Almond-Fried Chicken Wings or Legs

2 pounds chicken wings or legs

1 c. flour (substitute Pamela’s gluten free baking mix if desired, and omit almonds)

1/4 c. ground almonds

salt & pepper

grapeseed oil for frying

Mix together flour, almonds, salt and pepper.  Dredge chicken pieces in mixture and fry in large skillet with high sides.  Fry chicken pieces over medium-high heat until cooked through.  Drain on paper towels.  Serve hot or at room temperature.

Potato Salad with Salsa Verde

2 pounds new potatoes

1/4 c. mint leaves

1/4 c. basil leaves

1/4 c. flat leaf parsley leaves

1/4 c. chives

juice of 1/2 lemon

2 Tbs. capers

1 anchovy, rinsed and drained

1/4 c. olive oil

salt & pepper

1/3 c. grated ricotta salata or crumbled feta cheese

Cut potatoes into quarters and boil until just cooked.  Meanwhile, place herbs, lemon juice, capers, olive oil and anchovy in blender or food processor and blend until almost smooth.  When potatoes are cooked, drain and while still hot, pour dressing over and stir to combine.  Allow to come to room temperature and top with ricotta salata or eta and serve at once.

Radish Salad with Chile-Piave Cinaigrette

This salad was so amazing, it inspired our friend Penny De Los Santos to invite Rachel into her studio kitchen for a photo shoot for Design Sponge.  Find the recipe here.  And if you don’t already, you should follow Penny’s blog religiously.  Her life is full of amazing experiences and her talent knows no bounds. You’re already familiar with her work in Saveur, National Geographic, Gourmet and elsewhere.

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