penmanship

It's been awhile. I've been away. My fingers have been idle... at least in the literary sense. Sure, I've been cooking. Almost every night, in fact, and now I have an even bigger table to feed. The only problem is, I haven't really felt... inspired. Inspired to try something new, something different, something fresh. To unearth and savor old family recipes that have long been forgotten. And, you know, write about it.

But inspiration attacked me this weekend in the form of a warped, battered navy cookbook from the 1940s -- my great-grandmother Vae's copy of The Household Searchlight Recipe Book.* Modestly sized, virtually free of photography and sepia-toned, the book is a treasure trove of the delicious (cheese soup, butter cake) and the bizarre (Baked Heart, Prune Whip). But the most precious thing it contains is several recipes in Vae's scrolling, perfect cursive.

My Nanny still loves her handwriting so much it makes her a bit misty, and I can't deny the emotional pull of seeing the words she labored over sixty years ago. There are so many delightfully old-fashioned phrases... "sweet milk" to distinguish from buttermilk, "oleo" instead of butter or margarine, "a 25-cent box of Vanilla Wafers" instead of, well, I have NO idea what size that'd be today.

Sure, it's cheesy and dorky and smacks of sentimentality, but I just can't help it. I can't wait to try Vae's toffee bars and sand tarts and her sister Grace's recipe for pecan pie... I can't wait to feel like I'm connecting with a woman I've only ever known through stories, getting to know her in the place where she must have churned away hours by herself, a place where she expressed herself and created beautiful things. When I make her recipes, it's like I get a little slice of time in the kitchen, right next to her. Are these recipes precious to me? Beyond words.

And I can't wait to try every one!

*Where did those wonderfully sturdy cookbook names run off to? Now cookbook titles are all fancy-schmancy... "From Vines to Wines," "Earth to Table," "Harvest for Hope"... huh?

oregon - a visual feast!

Every Saturday, near Portland State University, local farmers and growers spread out the jewels of their labor for all to marvel over and enjoy. And during our recent family trip to Oregon, we cut out a couple hours for time at the farmers' market and were not let down. From picturesque piles of crisp winter vegetables...


... to mounds of sun-hued carrots...


... to the French radishes I've longed to taste for a year, there was a wealth of beautiful, delicious food at our fingertips. We ate the radishes that night during dinner, dipped in dairy-fresh butter and sprinkled with salt, and though my brothers wrinkled their noses at the taste, I was happily satisfied. They were just as mild and sweet as promised by my beloved French cookbook! And accompanied by sheep's milk cheese, crusty baguettes and sauteed asparagus (all gleaned from the market), they were the perfect summer's meal.



To my husband's great delight, we found a singularly calorie-packed lunch at The Grilled Cheese Grill... a hamburger nestled between 2 grilled-cheese sandwiches instead of buns. I have no words for this divine combination. There was a lot of joyous groaning as we ate.



Now, I consider myself a gigantic pastry snob since I had my pick of patisseries in Paris for a year, but the Hazelnut Cream Danish at Pearl Bakery left me claiming, at a rather embarrassing volume, "This is the best thing I've ever put in my mouth!" The perfect amalgamation of textures, from creamy to flaky, is housed in this peerless little pastry... rich hazelnut cream, bedecked by crushed hazelnuts, nestled in layers of buttery croissant. The fact that this danish is now over 1,000 miles away from me brings me infinite sadness.

Our trip was a wonderful chance for family bonding, inside jokes and intimate conversations, but who cares about that when you're constantly stuffing your face with amazing food?! To read my reviews of the restaurants we visited in Oregon, visit my Yelp page.

honey likker

The somnolence of summer has arrived in its full, drenching glory here in Texas. The trees are heavy with leaves, the air has stopped breathing, and the days are long and woozy.

And even though your armpits soak and mosquitoes suck like starving babies, the back porch begs you to sit a spell. The only thing that makes the heat more like a blanket than a slap in the face is a tall glass of some sweet Southern drink, slick with condensation and floating with chunks of ice.

Here are my two favorites:

Sweet Tea Martini

1 part sweet tea vodka
1 part sweet tea
Slice of lemon

Mix in a shaker and pour into a chilled martini glass. Or, in a pinch, pour all ingredients over a glass of ice.


Bourbon & Coke

1 part bourbon (I love Maker's Mark)
2-3 parts Coca-Cola

This is no time for Diet. Get the real stuff. Pour over ice.