Doh!

My mother emailed me this morning after reading about Southern Dish. I'm tickled (or terrified) that she reads my blog, but I guess she knew she was going to be in it, so that might have been a factor. Actually, she likes my blog, although she has suggested I clean up my language and my history. Hell, you can't please every damn person that reads your damn blog, can you*? Anyhow, this is what she had to say:

You forgot the paprika, and I do always add onion, Miss Super Fancy Pants. And I definitely don't have a breathy voice -- a growl, maybe. Hope your trip was not too long. Love, Mother

Oops! I did forget the paprika. So sprinkle some on top of Southern Dish before cooking. And my trip wasn't any longer than it had to be, but it was too long. Thank you for asking. For those of you who don't know, I'm working on my application for Mother of the Year, so I'll have another trophy to display next to the one for Meanest Mommy Ever. My oldest son's class left for their yearly trip yesterday morning, to an island two hours away. He had a recording session for his choir last night that he didn't want to miss, so I offered to drive him to the island after choir, at 8 pm. Two and half hours there and two and a half back. When I dropped him off, I didn't even get out of the car to go to the bathroom. I figured I'd be able to stay awake on the drive if I was also struggling to control my bladder. I'm no love-sick astronaut. It worked and I got home just before one in the morning. I'm exhausted and I can't stop eating these chocolate covered almonds from Trader Joe's, but other than that I'm okay. Thank you for asking. And I'll take my new trophy any time now. I hope it's big and flashy**.

Oh, and, Mom? I said "breezy" not "breathy." And you did attempt a breezy tone. So there. And I'm sure you do always add onion. And is there a trophy for Miss Super Fancy Pants? I bet there is and I bet it is very sparkly! I think I need a bigger trophy case.

She sent me another email, just two minutes later.

And I use the low fat small curd cottage cheese, and I don't think I even put it into my mini-food processor last time. Only when I have chunky cottage cheese do I do that. I did mean cheddar (there are other kinds$) -- EXTRA sharp.

I probably blocked out the "low fat," because I like fat. For the record, Mom likes low fat stuff and her Southern Dish is excellent, so it must work. I'm glad to hear the food processor is unnecessary, because I love skipping steps! I think that dollar sign is a typo, but it might be a comment on the fact that Mom thinks I spend too much on food. But I love food! I agree with her suggestion of Extra Sharp cheese; that would definitely add something to Southern Dish.

Namasté, y'all!

* Although I refuse to clean up my language here - this blog is for grownups, dammit! - she might have a point. Baby J has started saying something that sounds suspiciously like "sh*t" every time he drops something. He must have picked it up from those harlots at the church nursery. Crap!

** That's what she said.

Sunday Man Pasta.

Every Sunday, my husband does a very nice thing*. While I go to Yoga, he hangs with the kids, cleans the kitchen and makes dinner. Yes, I am the luckiest woman alive. I think he'd admit, though, that there's an element of self-preservation in his actions. He knows I'll be a lot more fun to be around if I don't have to destroy the magic of Yoga by coming home to a messy kitchen and hungry kids. And he likes pasta, which I rarely cook, because I don't like it so much.

Not that I'm complaining, but he always cooks the same meal. I'm really not complaining, because the kids love it and I don't have to make it or clean it up. He found the recipe on the back of a box of spinach pasta. It was called "Lumberjack Pasta" and was more complicated than his version. I'm pretty sure an actual lumberjack wouldn't bother "straining the nuts." I have no idea what that's all about, but my husband seemed particularly proud of the fact that he skips that step, which was in the original instructions. What is a lumberjack anyway?

Sunday Man Pasta

Melt some butter in a pan and crush a couple cloves of garlic into it.

Put 1 1/2 cups walnuts on a pan and toast them. My husband didn't say 1 1/2 cups, he said, "about 3/4 of that nut chopper thing." He's referring to one of these:

In fact, he was referring to that very one, which is ours. And it's terrible, so please email me and tell me about your favorite nut chopper. Or just send me one to try.

Anyhow, he uses that one, so I filled it 3/4 full with water, which I then dumped into a measuring cup so I could give you, dear reader, a precise measurement for the nuts**. Sunday Man Pasta is usually made with walnuts, although any nuts you happen to have around will work. Pecans, almonds and cashews come to mind. My husband claims he sometimes likes to add pine nuts, but I think he was just saying that to sound fancy.

Once you've toasted your nuts, chop them in the chopper, preferably a better chopper than ours, which chops unevenly. Chop, chop, chop. Sorry, just wanted to make sure I had enough "chops" in this paragraph.

Remember your melted butter and garlic? Stir the nuts in with that. According to my husband,

"The nuts'll eat up that butter pretty quickly."

Okay. Cook a package of spinach noodles, whatever shape you prefer. Drain the noodles, return them to the pot and stir in the nut mixture. Add shredded Parmesan to taste. My husband, who is half French after all, recommends adding a spoonful of plain yogurt to make it "more saucy."

Attempts to add vegetables or (what was he thinking?) tuna were unsuccessful. Do not mess with Sunday Man Pasta. It is what it is, yo.

Namasté, y'all!

P.S. I don't think I've ever said "nuts" and "chop" so many times in one post.

* He does nice things on other days of the week, too, but I'm just telling about the Sunday thing today. Stay tuned if you want to hear more.

** That's what...never mind.

Darn weather.

I live in South Carolina, not Canada. I went to college in Canada and it was great, but I couldn't live with being cold in April. Apparently, moving back to South Carolina was not enough, because it is freezing*. In an attempt to count my blessings (gag), I'm making Extreme Grouper Chowder for dinner, which would be totally inappropriate if it were warmer. But my mind is on summer meals. In the spring and summer, my family lives on appetizers, because appetizers pave the way for drinks! Drinking at four thirty in the afternoon is trashy...unless there are appetizers. As soon as it gets warm, every day is a party and we eat accordingly: nori rolls, dips, boiled shrimp, crab salad, quinoa salad, artichokes with bagna cauda, Thai salad rolls, anything that we can eat with our hands. Classy, huh?

This weekend was warm and I made a new salad. The weather didn't last, but the salad was good.

Quinoa Salad with Roasted Arugula and Dried Figs

First, make three cups of cooked quinoa (one cup dry quinoa and 2 cups water). I used to hate quinoa, but that was before I had it at Perry's Restaurant in Washington DC. Instead of tasting like a watery, health food-y mess, it tasted nutty, crispy and chewy, always an excellent combination. The secret: they take the cooked quinoa, drizzle it with olive oil and bake it in a 450° oven for 10-12 minutes, until it's nutty, crispy and chewy, all at once. So do that to your cooked quinoa. For this salad, I used a delicious lemon infused olive oil I bought at Perrone's the last time we were there. You should try to hook up with some of that. I haven't checked, but I'd be shocked if you couldn't find it at the Gourmet Shop, Cloud Nine or relative newcomer Simply Savory.

When you take the quinoa out of the oven, turn the temperature down to 350°. While the quinoa is cooling in a big bowl, spread about eight cups of fresh arugula on a baking pan, drizzle it with olive oil and sprinkle with a little bit of salt. Put it in the 350° oven and cook for about five minutes. Keep an eye on it, because it cooks fast. Take it out when it's almost dry. While that cools, add the following to the bowl of quinoa:

1/2 cup chopped, dried figs. Get the good, unsulphured ones from the bulk section at your local health food store. Rosewood Market has them.

1/2 cup slivered almonds.

Now fold in the crispy arugula. Eat a few pieces before you stir it in, because it's really good.

Add a dash or three of balsamic vinegar.

Serve the salad with goat cheese sprinkled on top. I used a delicious one from Split Creek Farm, also found at Rosewood Market.

Eat it, and don't forget the cocktail! You can substitute a nice glass of white wine (or three) for the cocktail if you prefer. Maybe you could have a Stoli Oranj and soda while you're cooking and white wine with the meal. Just sayin'.

Namasté, y'all!

* I know, slight exaggeration. But still.

Did you hear the crying the other night?

That was the sound of grown men crying. Those men, every man who ever went on a date with me and couldn't handle my...ahem...challenging personality, were crying for a good reason. They were crying because, if they'd been brave like my husband, they could have been at my house, eating fried eggplant pizza.

There used to be a restaurant in town, a little Greek place some of you may remember, the Parthenon. They made the most excellent pizza, topped with fried eggplant and black olives. I haven't had one since it closed and I really, really miss that pizza. During Baby J's nap, I decided to fry up an eggplant I had left over from the day before, when I made ratatouille*. I peeled and sliced the eggplant and salted it. You have to salt the eggplant, because it's very high in moisture and will get mushy when you cook it. Lay the slices out and sprinkle them with salt; you can pat them dry after the salt draws the moisture out. While you're waiting, crack a couple of eggs into a bowl and beat them. In another bowl, mix some breadcrumbs with Italian seasoning. You could just use Italian breadcrumbs, but I didn't have any. I liked being able to add extra seasoning, too.

Coat the bottom of a big sauté pan with about an eighth of an inch of oil. I like grapeseed oil because it has a high smoke point and a very mild flavor. Heat the oil while you pat the eggplant slices dry. Dip each slice in egg and drag it through the breadcrumbs before laying it in the pan. By the time the pan is full, you can start flipping the first slices you put in. Use a fork, dummy, because you'll burn the sh*t out of your hand if you don't. Trust me, I know. When the slices are pale brown** on both sides, take them out with a fork and put them on paper towels. Keep frying eggplant until you're finished. Do not sample a piece of the fried eggplant until it cools down. If you are impatient, you will burn the sh*t out of your mouth. For real, yo.

When the baby wakes up from his nap, abandon your project***. Cover the eggplant and set it aside. You'll be using it in a few hours, so don't bother refrigerating it unless you're an uptight freak. When the big kids get home from school, force them to watch the baby while you finish by promising them the best pizza ever. Make them feel guilty by telling them he cried for them while they were at school. Kids are gullible. Take advantage of it.

Once the baby is settled with the big kids, roll out your pizza dough. You can also use a prepared crust or make your own, depending on how slack you are or aren't. I'm partial these days to Trader Joe's**** pizza dough in a bag, but I have to roll it out in a rectangle, because I can't make it be a circle. I was expending far too much energy being mad about that, so rectangle it is.

Spread pizza sauce on the crust. I use the kind in a jar, but feel free to make your own. If you are a lazy housewife like me pride yourself on being efficient and prefer the jar, buy the one without any gross, chemically ingredients from your local fancy mart. Top that with some shredded mozzarella. Guess who buys the pre-shredded kind (hormone and antibiotic free of course!) You can, too. And you're not lazy. If you fried the eggplant during the baby's nap, you can honestly say you've been cooking all day. Lay your lovingly fried slices of eggplant and some sliced black olives on top of the cheese. Sprinkle that with crumbled feta and grated Parmesan. Cook it until it's done.

My kids approved, as did my husband. But that didn't stop him from asking some woman out to lunch in Charleston, where he had to go for work. Incidentally, he did it before and I asked him not to, same woman. My feelings are very hurt. He wants to know what he can do to make it up to me. How about this? Always tell the truth and don't do stuff that you know will hurt my feelings. It's not that hard. Advice to married people: Before you say something, ask yourself if it's true. Before you do something, ask yourself, "Would my spouse be okay with this?" If the answer is usually yes, you should respect it when the answer is no. If the answer is usually no, your spouse is a freak and you should reconsider your choice. How bad is it that the whole thing wouldn't bother me at all if I could see her picture and she was really ugly? Maturity is not one of my virtues.

Namasté, y'all!

* I have to give a shout out to the makers of the film Ratatouille, who managed to turn a dish full of vegetables into a food that all children will eat. Merci!

** I know that pale brown = tan, but food should never, ever be described as tan. Gross!

*** Maybe you are wondering what to do with the unused egg. Here's a thought: spoon some of the leftover ratatouille into the still hot grease and dump the eggs over that. Voilà! Ugliest omelet ever!

**** I'm thinking of organizing a group trip to the closest TJ's, in South Charlotte. Who's in?

How to be The Best Cooker Ever

When my brother was in high school, he informed my parents that, once he was in college, he would live in an apartment and eat nothing but pizza, wings and Chinese food. Thankfully, he came to his senses and eats a more varied and healthier diet. The joys of pizza, wings and Chinese food, however, should not be denied. Before my older children became vegetarians, I was named Best Cooker Ever for serving such dishes as Greek chicken wings, fried rice and Eggplant Mush Pizza. Although they would deny it now, they once wept with joy over a beef tenderloin I made.

Once again, I've been designated Best Cooker Ever. And it was easy. A few days ago, I made crêpes, filled with creamed spinach. And peanut butter and jelly crêpes, by request, for dessert. They're so simple to make that I didn't bat an eye when the kids asked me to try peanut butter and jelly. I'm slack; all I do is add a lot of extra liquid to regular pancake mix, pour it in a buttered crêpe pan, wait until it starts to bubble, dump stuff in it and fold it over like a dang quesa-dillah. Voilà! Crêpes! The next day, I made Pad Thai, which is always a hit. I bought the shrimp for the Pad Thai at Palmetto Seafood Co.

Tonight, I scored again. The boys and I went back to Palmetto this afternoon. I need to gush for a minute. I love that place. They can always tell me what it is I want. I explained how I wanted to make the fish tonight and they suggested flounder, which was, as the British say so well, spot on. They also sold me the exact amount I needed, based on me telling them who all was coming to dinner. I bought two flounder, which they cleaned and filleted for me while the boys and I sipped ice cold sodas (Diet Coke for me, regular for them, because I like to be the Nicest Mommy in the World once in a while) and waited on our to-go order of fried frog legs. Apparently, their pescetarianism has expanded to include amphibianerianism. They also enjoyed watching the live crawdads crawl all over each other. Lucius Moultrie, the proprietor, is well known as the fish fry master of House Majority Whip Jim Clyburn's annual shindig. That's only once a year, far too long to wait, so I recommend stopping by once in a while for a to-go meal. There are too many choices to list here, but I assure you that they're all good. And fried. The smell of that place, fresh fish combined with fried, fills me with joy. I let the boys eat the frog legs in the car, because they need to be eaten hot. The X-Man paused.

"Wait, let me see if I can still sing. Mwaaaaaahhh-la-la-laaaaaa!," he warbled, doing his impression of an opera singer. "Good. I don't have a frog in my throat."

Ha! Is that kid sharp or what? But I digress. Here's what I did with the fish:

Pan-fried Fish, Best Cooker Ever Style

Soak your fish fillets in a bath of milk and beaten eggs for at least 30 minutes. The milk will mellow the taste of the fish.

In a food processor, mix a handful of nuts (I used pecans), an entire bunch of fresh parsley and a little salt and pepper. It should look like a very dry pesto. Dump that onto a large plate.

Heat some butter and oil (choose one that has a pretty high smoke point, like grapeseed oil) in a large pan.

Take a piece of fish, dredge it in the parsley and nut mixture and lay it in the pan. Put as many pieces in the pan as you can without overlapping. You can press more pesto on top of the fish if you like. Cook it for a few minutes, until the edges are white, and flip it, cooking for a few more minutes just until the fish turns opaque all the way through. Slap it on a plate and eat it.

I served it with roasted fingerling potatoes and a mâche salad. We had crêpes for dessert, inspired by the begging of small children and some Brazilian honey we sampled and bought today. It was begging to be drizzled on a crêpe, this "Creamy, Raw Honey, Infused with Chocolate." Yup. I also added chopped pecans. Of all the crêpes we've eaten this week, these were the best.

Namasté, y'all!

Most Hi-Class Tuna Casserole

Did you grow up in the seventies? Did you love your mom's cooking? Do you want to impress your friends? Have I got a recipe for you. This is not your mother's tuna casserole. This is hi-class, super fancy, sophisticated tuna casserole. I hate things that are so fancy that they don't taste good. I'm all for fancy, but in the end, you have to eat the thing, so it should taste good. I also like cooking appetizers, because my kids will eat anything, as long as it looks like party food. If I wrap it in nori or phyllo dough and arrange it on a tray with parsley, they'll eat it. Even better if they can eat it with a toothpick. If I put crap on a cracker, with a garnish, they'd eat it.

Tuna Casserole Triangles

In a bowl, mix the following:

• 2 small cans of tuna, drained.
• 1 heaping cup shredded cheddar cheese.
• a heaping 1/4 cup mayonnaise.
• 1/4 cup buttermilk.
• 1/2 cup slivered almonds.
• 1 cup frozen broccoli florets. Chop up the big pieces, but you don't have to go nuts about it.
• A spoonful of mustard.
• A few shakes of salt.
• A few shakes of pepper.

When you mix it all together, it should look like this:


Now for the fancy part. Earlier in the day, you have gone to the store to get frozen phyllo dough. And, though it was frozen when you bought it, you have put it in the fridge to thaw. Get it out now. If you are a young woman raised in the Orthodox Church (Greek or otherwise), you know good and well how to work with phyllo. If you are not that young woman, never fear. It just takes practice.

Pour some olive oil in a bowl and get out your pastry brush. Lay out one sheet of pastry on the counter and slice it into five pieces, slicing the short way. I suggest using a pizza cutter. In fact, I suggest using a Zyliss pizza cutter, because it is so awesome*. The sliced sheet of dough will look like this:


Brush the strips with olive oil. Hold the end of each strip lightly and brush from your fingers up to the top. Don't be shy with the olive oil**. Put a dollop of the tuna mixture at the end of one strip, about an inch from the top, like this:


Fold a corner over, like this:


And keep folding, like a flag, until you have a little triangle. Don't try to fold it too tight, because the paper will tear or it will explode in the oven, which would be fun, but a b***h to clean. Repeat the process until all of the mixture is gone. Put the triangles on a greased baking sheet. You should have about twenty, but you could easily double (or triple! or quadruple!) this recipe for a party or for leftovers to freeze (more on that later).


Brush the top of each pastry with more olive oil. Put them in a 350° oven for about 25 minutes or until they're golden brown.

As promised, here are the directions for leftovers. These will freeze really well. After wrapping them, but before brushing with the final coat of olive oil, put them in a freezer safe container between sheets of waxed paper. When you're ready to cook them, take them out, put them on a greased baking sheet and brush them with olive oil. Cook them at 350° for 45 minutes or so. Don't thaw before cooking; they'll get soggy. Here's a cooked one:


According to my children, I'm the best cooker ever. So there.

By the way, for those of you who follow these sorts of things, the buttermilk is almost gone!

Namasté, y'all!


* And, I've said it before and I'll say it again, probably more than once, you can buy it at Mary and Martha's, one of my favorite kitchen stores in town. Here's the pizza slicer:


** That's what she said. Ha!

Guess what I made with buttermilk today?

Pear clafoutis. If the French had their way, I wouldn't even be allowed to call a dessert involving pears "clafoutis." Actually, if the French had their way, I wouldn't be allowed in the kitchen. According to the ultimate authority, Larousse Gastronomique, clafoutis is "a dessert from the Limousin region of France, consisting of black cherries arranged in a buttered dish and covered with fairly thick pancake batter." The pits of the cherries, incidentally, are not removed and you have to spit them out as you eat. This sort of thing is very typical of the French, who are required by law to suffer a little, even when eating something nice. My mother-in-law makes it the correct way and it's delicious. When I told her about my plan to make it with pears and buttermilk, she winced in a way that only the French can and quickly changed the subject. That was kinder than telling me exactly what she thought of my idea. But I digress.

Pear Clafoutis (With My Apologies to the French)

I waited until she was gone and I peeled, cored and sliced four pears. I sprinkled them with a quarter cup of sugar and put them in the fridge in a closed container. According to the true recipe, you should do this to the cherries and let them sit for at least thirty minutes, so that's what I did. To the pears.

In a bowl, I whisked the following:

• one heaping cup of flour.
• a pinch of salt. I hope I get credit for this: It was French sea salt.
• another quarter cup of sugar.
• 4 well beaten eggs.

Now add (quel horreur!) one and a quarter cups of buttermilk. And whisk a little more.

Butter a round baking dish. The Larousse says to use a baking tin, so you might want to try that.

Put the sweet pear slices in the dish, sugar and all, and sprinkle the zest of one lemon on top of the pears. Now pour the batter over the whole thing and cook it at 350° for 35-40 minutes. let it cool to lukewarm before serving. You can sprinkle it with confectioner's sugar to make it look pretty if you like.

Et maintenant, je vous présente... Le Clafoutis aux Poires avec Babeurre!


Namasté, y'all!

Onion Tart...with buttermilk. (Alternate Title: Do not fear the pâte brisée.)

Yesterday, I recommended saving the rest of an onion for an onion tart, or tarte à l'oignon, as we say en France. Guess what I couldn't stop thinking about? If you answered "a nice bottle of Sancerre accompanied by an onion tart", you would be right. The Sancerre was easy enough; I had to go to church last night to set up for a service*, but I didn't have to actually sit through the service and there was just enough time to slip out to the package store**.

Earlier in the day, I had made the pâte brisée, which was chilling in the fridge when I got home from church. I couldn't do it during Baby J's nap time, because I didn't want to risk waking him up with the Cuisinart. Now, my French mother in law can whip up a pâte brisée by hand. I'm sure I could, too, but it's much easier in the Cuisinart and the Larousse Gastronomique*** approves. Pâte brisée is a fancy name for basic pie crust. Don't be intimidated, it's easy. You will need a food processor, though. If you want a free one, I recommend going to someone's house who hates to cook but got married in the eighties. I guarantee they'll have an unused food processor. I personally burnt out the motors of three never-used, hand-me-down processors before my sweet husband bought me a Cuisinart. And don't be mad at him for giving me an appliance. I wanted it real bad and it flipping rocks. The cheap ones are fine, by the way, they just won't last long if you use them a lot.

Pâte brisée

In the food processor, dump the following:

• one heaping cup of all-purpose flour. By heaping, I mean don't skim across the top, just reach into your bag of flour with the measuring cup and take a big scoop.
• a pinch of salt. Using imprecise measurements will make you feel more French and your food will come out better.
• a heaping spoonful of sugar. The sugar is actually optional, so use as much or as little as you like.
  
• a stick of butter, cold and chopped into pieces. The pieces don't have to be very small, maybe 8-10 per stick.

Switch on your processor and pulse until all the ingredients are mixed. It should look crumbly, about the consistency of potting soil.

Now add two tablespoons of very cold water. Make yourself a glass of ice water and take it from there. If you're making the pastry for someone other than immediate family, spoon the water out before you take a sip. Or before anyone sees you take a sip.

Use the pulse button again. After a few seconds, the dough will bind and pull away from the walls of the processor. Take out your dough blob, make it into a ball, wrap it in tin foil and put it in the fridge for at least an hour.

Onion Tart

If your baby is still behaving, you can now caramelize the onions. In addition to the onion you saved from yesterday, you should slice two more onions. Red onions are best. It doesn't matter if your onion from the day before was red or white or yellow. Slice the onions very thin. If you have one, use a mandoline. I have one, but I forgot to use it and the onions were fine...but I almost sliced my finger. You should end up with about eight cups of sliced onion. Put them in a container and dump a small half cup of buttermilk over them. Cover the container and put it in the fridge. Go console your baby and read him that stupid Wheels on the Bus book for the fifty millionth time. Give him a dried fig to distract him so you can go cook the onions. He likes dried figs.

In a big frying pan, melt a chunk of butter and add a splash of olive oil. Dump the onions in, buttermilk and all. Sprinkle salt on the onions and cook them, stirring every so often, until they're translucent. That should take about ten minutes, enough time to read the stupid Wheels on the Bus book a couple more times. Lower the heat and cook them for a long time, until they're nice and brown. That's going to take about thirty minutes. You can read the stupid book twenty more times or you can distract the baby and waste some time read fascinating and informative blogs like this one on the internet.

When the onions are browned, splash in just a little balsamic vinegar, no more than a teaspoon or two. Continue cooking and stirring the onions for a few more minutes to distribute the vinegar. You'll probably have to just hold the baby while you do it, which you can count as your weight lifting for the day. Make sure you hold him away from the stove, though. The pan should be on the back burner. Duh.

Turn the heat off. Leave the onions on the stove (no need to dirty another container) while you go pick up your big kids from school. Bring them home and referee whatever fights they might have while simultaneously making them do their homework. Take them to their weekly Kid Yoga class, which seems to really mellow them out. While they're at Yoga, take the baby to the grocery store and buy a hunk of Gruyère cheese. And bananas. And olives. And milk. And a cookie for the baby, because he's darn cute. Pick up the kids from Yoga and take them home to do more homework, which they'll now do with pleasure, because they're all Yoga'd up.

For the next couple of hours, do whatever it is you do this time of day, until you're ready to make the tart.

Open the bottle of Sancerre and pour yourself a glass. Isn't that nice? Preheat the oven to 450°. Take your pâte brisée out of the fridge and leave it on the counter for about five minutes while you grate about a cup of the Gruyère. Eat some olives if you're hungry.

Roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface to about a ten inch diameter. Put it on a baking sheet. Technically, you're supposed to put it on parchment paper on the baking sheet, but I didn't have any and my husband was still at work, so I couldn't go out and get any. According to the world wide internets, paper bags can catch on fire at 475°, so I decided not to use one of those. I just put the dough right on the cookie sheet, ungreased. I recommend heavy duty aluminum sheets, because that's what I like.

Sprinkle most of the cheese on the pastry, reserving a couple of spoonfuls. Put the caramelized onions on top of the cheese, leaving about two inches of pastry around the edge. Fold the extra pastry over the onions. You'll have a hole in the middle so the onions can peek out. Don't fold it too precisely, because you want it to look all French country cooking. Also, you've probably had a second glass of wine by now and you won't be able to be too precise anyway. Brush the pastry with buttermilk. When it's cooked, that'll give it a nice glazed look, kind of like your eyes are glazed from the wine. Sprinkle the rest of the cheese on top and put it in the preheated oven. Bake it for about ten minutes, enough time to clean the counter and eat some more olives. Lower the heat to 350° and cook for about 25 more minutes, until the crust is brown and looks just right. Make sure you let the finished tart sit for a few minutes on the counter to cool before you cut into it.

By the time it's ready, your husband should be home from work, the kids will be asleep and all will be right in the world.

Namasté, y'all!

* Yeah, I'm an old lady, in case you hadn't guessed that. I'm on Altar Guild at my church. As far as volunteer work goes, it's great, because you do it by yourself. Volunteer work with others can be very annoying for a control freak like me.

** Further evidence that I'm an old lady. Instead of liquor store, which is so boringly obvious, I call it the package store. Did you know that term originated in 1933, after the repeal of Prohibition? It was a small concession to the anti-liquor people. Liquor could be purchased, but had to be concealed in a package. Fascinating.

*** Please pardon all the footnotes. I stayed up too late. If you don't already own a copy of the Larousse, get one. I got mine when I was in college and I refer to it all the time. It's kind of a time suck, though, because looking up one thing always leads you to look up another. Kind of like the internet.

More buttermilk!

Prepare to endure a week of buttermilk, because that's about how long the buttermilk in my fridge will keep and I want to use it all. I could freeze it in ice cube trays and save it for later, but I don't want to. It's a buttermilk kind of week, m'kay?

Last night, I made stuffed tomatoes with, you guessed it, BUTTERMILK! I think they'd make a nice side dish for just about anything. Veal comes to mind. Here you go.

Buttermilk Stuffed Tomatoes

This recipe can be multiplied by as many tomatoes as you need. I made two, but you could make fifty, if you're having fifty people over for stuffed tomatoes or you need to use up a lot of buttermilk.

First, hollow out your tomatoes. Cut the top off, making a little bowl. Rinse out all the seeds. It's just fine to leave a little of the tomato meat. When they're as hollow as you can get them, turn them upside down on the edge of the sink, so any remaining liquid will drain.

In a bowl or cup with a spout, mix the following, multiplied by the number of tomatoes you want to stuff:

• 1 tablespoon crumbled Gorgonzola.
• 1 tablespoon buttermilk.
• 1/3 cup frozen spinach, thawed and pressed between towels to remove the liquid. You'll end up with less than 1/3 cup after pressing.
• 1 egg.
• A healthy shake of crushed red pepper.
• Salt and pepper to taste. And don't start screaming at me about tasting raw egg. If you buy your eggs fresh, from the person who gathered them, you'll be fine*.
  

Slice an onion. Find a slice that will work as a stand for each tomato, so they don't tip over while cooking. The onion also adds a little bit of flavor. My brilliant French mother-in-law taught me to use onions as a roasting rack for fish. No more gluey fish yuck. Hooray! Now I use them for everything. Save the rest of the onion; you can use it for soup another day. Or maybe an onion tart...with buttermilk...hmmm...

Put each tomato on an onion slice on a baking sheet and fill with the egg mixture. I told you to use a bowl or cup with a spout and I hope you did, because that makes this step a lot easier.

Cook at 375° for thirty minutes. Let them cool for ten or fifteen minutes while they set.

One thing I didn't add that would have been nice was something crunchy and salty on top. Down heah, we love to add bread crumbs (good), crushed Ritz Crackers (better) or potato chips (best!) to the top of any dish. I say go for it.

Namasté, y'all!

* I got over any squeamishness I had about raw eggs when O. was a toddler. I really wanted to take a shower (trust me, this is going somewhere) and I could not distract the over-socialized O. I hate being cold and it's unacceptable to me to have a toddler pulling back the curtain and creating a draft while Princess Me is trying to shower. I'm not proud of this (well, maybe a little), but I let him play in the fridge while I took my shower. It was the only thing that would occupy him for any length of time. He was a very careful child and could spend twenty minutes rearranging things on the shelves without making a mess. When I finished, I went to the kitchen to assess the damage. He had bitten the top off of a raw egg and was drinking it. Yum!

Inspired by buttermilk.

Yesterday, we went to the last All-Local Farmers' Market at Yo Burrito. Starting the fourth Saturday of next month, it'll be at Rosewood Market. I've talked about it before, so I'll spare you, but you really, really shouldn't miss it. Really. See you there!

I've tried plenty of Happy Cow Creamery's* cheeses and we love them all and I couldn't live without their butter, but yesterday I felt compelled to buy buttermilk. It just seemed so...homey. My little pescetarians have been in the mountains with their grandparents this weekend, so I thought I'd make them some soup. They love soup and I love them. And I wanted to use the buttermilk, so here's what I did.

Soup for My Babies

Splash a little bit of olive oil in a soup pot. Heat it up and add:

• One chopped onion.
• About two cups of chopped cabbage.
• 3 medium zucchini, cut in half lengthwise and sliced into half-moons.

Sauté them for a few minutes, stirring every so often with a wooden spoon. I don't know why I like to sauté my veggies for soup. I just do. I think it tastes toastier.

Add a large can (28 ounces) of diced tomatoes or about a pound of chopped, fresh tomatoes.

Add a small (6 ounce) can of tomato paste.

Use the little can to add water. Add three cans worth.

Stir in the following:

• 1/4 teaspoon salt.
• 2 teaspoons coriander. I don't know why, but I'm obsessed with coriander in soup at the moment.
• 1 teaspoon Italian Seasoning.
• 1 teaspoon sugar.
• A few shakes cayenne pepper, depending on how hot you like it.

Bring everything to a boil, turn down the heat and let it simmer for a little bit, about enough time to get yourself a Diet Cheerwine** out of the fridge, open it and read a sweet email from your husband. Stir occasionally (the soup, that is, you should stir the husband more often).

Add a cup of frozen, shelled Edamame for protein.

Just before serving, stir in a half a cup of buttermilk.

And I'll leave you with a picture of the lovely flowers I got at the market from Donna of Floral and Hardy Farms. Her arrangements make me giddy.


Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have a second bowl of soup and wait for my little pescetarians.

Namasté, y'all!

* If you have a few minutes, I highly recommend clicking on the Happy Cow Creamery link above and reading more about the farm. It's a great story!

** Cheerwine, by the way, is made in North Carolina, pretty close to local. And it is so much better than the inferior Dr. Pepper. Blenheim's Ginger Ale, of course, is from right here in South Carolina and is arguably the best soda in the world. Try it with dark rum some time.

People are funny.

"I've searched for some strange things on the internet."

At least my husband admits it. By the way, darling, I already knew that from checking the history (and I was touched to see that you once searched for "belinda carlisle playboy." At least it was a woman in her forties, not some pre-pubescent looking pop star. And of course I had to look. She looked good, didn't she?)

He's not the only one who Googles things that are a bit odd. That's what's so great about the internet. You can be a freak in private like never before in history. These are some of the searches that have brought hapless surfers to The Daily Digress:

• Countless would-be chefs have come searching for "ruths chris filet recipe" or some variation. I hope they weren't too angry to read my completely uninformed opinion. I hope they made it to the end of the entry and the recipe for Best Filet Mignon. Just try it, you'll like it!

• Many women (and possibly men) are searching for "how to make a man" do various things, including, but not limited to, the following:


• want you for life
• want you back bad
• want you
• want to date you

For the record, I don't think you'll find that information here. I have no idea how to accomplish any of that. And, seriously, I suspect it isn't that hard, you just have to find the right sucker man. Bonne Chance!


• Someone out there wants to know "how to make a list of what you want in a man". Make the list however you want, but don't share. And...um...maybe just don't make the list. You'll know it when you see it.


• A lot of people search the web for "irritating husband". If you are looking to find an irritating husband, never fear, just get any old husband and, trust me on this one, he will become irritating soon enough. If you're looking for commiseration, you've come to the right place. Welcome!


• "my man won't listen to me" Yell louder. Or kick him.
  

• Only one person searched for "husband is passive aggressive Valentine's Day". Yeah, I hear you, sister!


• "eating the fish taco euphemism" Huh? What on earth could you be talking about?


• "grouper chowder" Apparently, my mother in law does leave pounds of Grouper in other people's fridges, because a lot of people search the web for this. Which is just fine, because I have an excellent recipe for Grouper Chowder.


• "leftover soup" The Daily Digress wholeheartedly endorses making soup out of leftovers.
  

• Oddly, there are a lot of searches for variations of "scary cat," which I wrote about exactly once.
  


• "scary staring cat" Yikes. I feel your pain.
• "scary cat room" Is this some kind of nursery decorating idea? That's sick. Or maybe you're trying to contain a scary cat in a specific room. That's wierd.
• "scary cat outside my window last night" It's your neighbor's cat. You know, the guy around the corner with the blue Camry. Just kidding. Did you really think an internet search would explain the scary cat outside your window?


• "baby raisins too many" I do not recommend giving your baby too many raisins. If you've already given him or her too many raisins and you don't know what to do, just make sure you have plently of baby wipes and don't plan any long car trips for a day or two.


• "pile of poop cake" and "reindeer poop cake" It would appear that I'm not as original as I thought. Cool.


• "best coconut cake" Yup, you can find that here. And it is, seriously, the best coconut cake. Ever.


• "Target stores lugoff SC sucks" Sorry to hear that. Our Target is pretty good.


• "Joe Francis naked" Why would you want to see that? Ew.


• "botox while pregnant" Nope, sorry. If you're like me though, your face will get so puffy that the wrinkles go away until you have the baby. Enjoy!


• "notes to kids in lunches" Yes! The Daily Digress totally endorses this! But you don't need to search the internet for ideas, just write from the heart. "Eat your fruit. I love you. Love, Mommy" is always good.


• "new rap album february" I was joking. I don't really have an album coming out, but I hope you find what you're looking for!


• "indian food after c-section" I'm not a doctor, but I say, "Go for it." I had three c-sections and ate Indian food (and everything else I could get my hands on) after every single one. Vaginal birth is great and all, but even people who have c-sections can eat whatever they want afterwards.


• I'm proud to announce that The Daily Digress is the only site that comes up if you Google, in quotation marks, "eggplant mush pizza". Check it out. I don't know why I'm so proud of that, but I am!

Namasté, y'all!

Ahhhh...Perfect Happiness.

There are times in life when I experience great, indescribable joy. Today, ladies and gentlemen, I experienced that joy. I've finally found the ultimate apple corer, and I didn't even know I was looking for it. It's always annoyed me that it's so hard to remove the core from an apple corer once the apple has been cored. By the way, why do we say "core" an apple when we actually mean "decore"? I guess it's the same as husking corn or pitting cherries. Must be a food thing. The other day, I went to the mall. I don't like the mall, because I do my best to shop local businesses. But my sister had to go to some big box store to get some sort of satellite radio thingy installed in my uncle's BMW and it's rude to order someone else to find someone local to do the job, especially if you once had someone local install some stereo thingy in your BMW and, in the process, they destroyed the air conditioning, which somehow ended up costing you three thousand dollars, but I digress.

Once at the mall (innocently, because it wasn't my idea!), I had to do a little bit of shopping. I needed some more dear john face cream, which I can only get at the mall, so I got that. While I was in the store, I happened to see a pair of high-heeled, eggplant-colored, patent leather Mary Janes, which I had to buy because they were on super clearance and, as far as I know, I only have one other pair of purple heels. And I had to go into Williams-Sonoma, even though I prefer the Gourmet Shop or Mary and Martha's, because they do cooking demonstrations and often have free samples and I'm always hungry. They didn't have any samples out, which irked me, but manners (and a tiny bit of shame) forced me to browse for a minute. Lo and behold, I saw an apple corer on the wall. It was like no apple corer I had ever seen before. It had a little plunger thingy to get the core out once the apple has been cored. No more sores from removing cores! Hooray! I introduce to you my brand new, Calphalon, ten dollar apple corer:

And tonight I made an apple spice cake, which is far less tedious now that I have my fancy apple corer. In fact, this recipe can now be called easy, so here it is.

Easy Apple Bundt Cake

In a big bowl, mix the following:

1 1/3 cups all purpose flour.

1 cup whole wheat flour.

1 1/4 cups sugar.

2 teaspoons baking soda.

1 teaspoon salt.

1 teaspoon cinnamon or nutmeg, if you're making it for my mother in law, who despises cinnamon.

6 cups peeled, cored(!) and chopped Granny Smith apples.

1/2 cup oil.

1/4 cup honey.

1 teaspoon vanilla.

2 eggs.

Mix it all together at low speed, just until all the dry ingredients are moistened. If your mixer is almost as old as my husband, which mine is, you may have to use medium speed. Now mix it a little bit more, maybe a minute or two. Let your kids lick the beaters while you stir in a half a cup of chopped walnuts or pecans. Make sure to unplug the mixer before you let your kids lick the beaters. Trust me on that one.

Grease a bundt pan. I mean an old school bundt pan, none of this new fangled, no-stick nonsense. Here's mine, with the cooked cake in it:


Dump the batter into the bundt pan and cook it at 350° for 50-60 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Let it cool for a while in the pan before you turn it out or it won't come out in one piece. It'll still taste good, but you might be sad. If you ignore my advice and dump it too soon and it comes out in chunks, all is not lost. Serve hunks of it warm, topped with vanilla (or butter pecan!) ice cream and caramel sauce. You could also serve it with some greenery and tea cups, like this:


Namasté, y'all!

Valentine's Day Advice. Take it or leave it.

My first piece of advice is this:

If you have to send sweets to your child's school, send Rice Krispie treats or those peanut butter kiss cookies. I'm not going to trouble you with either recipe, because the Rice Krispie Treat Recipe is right there on the box (do NOT screw this one up by buying some organic, fake version of Rice Krispies!) and the peanut butter kisses are too easy*. Adding holiday appropriate décor to the Rice Krispie Treats is a classy touch. May I suggest the following?

• Candy hearts or red hots for Valentine's Day.


• Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanzaa colored sprinkles.


• Green food dye in the mix for St. Patrick's Day. Or peas.
  


• Chocolate sprinkles or chips for Groundhog Day.


• Little tiny candy Presidents for Presidents' Day.


• Red, White and Blue sprinkles for the Fourth of July. Sparklers would be nice, too, but you want to be careful about putting kids' eyes out.


• Little tiny licorice shovels for Labor Day.
  

And now, in honor of all the upcoming Spring and Summer weddings and super-cheesy Valentine's Day proposals, I'm offering helpful hints for marriage. I've only been married ten years, so take them with a grain of salt, because marriage can last a whole lot longer than that. And, oh yeah, I'm a bit nuts and so is my husband.

• Make sure your husband thinks you are funny, pretty and smart, not necessarily in that order. You should think he's funny, smart enough and good looking enough. If he's too good looking, that's kind of gross and not very manly. If he's too smart, his social skills might not be up to par. By the way, y'all don't have to be funny to other people, just to each other. I, for example, find it beyond hysterical when my husband does that thing where he stands behind a counter, says, "Honey, I'm going down to the basement to get something," and pretends to walk down the imaginary stairs. In fact, I laughed just typing that. He does it really well and I always ask him to do it again. Logically, I know that joke isn't all that funny, but you have to see it when he does it! Likewise, he always laughs when I imitate our mothers (Sorry, Mom! Sorry, Maman! Can you console yourselves by knowing that making fun of you is the glue that holds our marriage together?)


• Contrary to most relationship advice, I believe you can change the way your husband dresses, with one glaring exception. If he wears his pants too high, you will not be able to change that. If that's a deal breaker for you, as it is for me, don't marry him. Seriously, it will bother you more and more as the years go on.
  


• Get a King sized bed. Space is good. Even better, go hotel-style and get two Queens, side by side. That way, you both have plenty of space, even if you decide to share for a night.


• Don't share a toothbrush. Aside from the fact that it's gross, one or both of you will be bothered by the wear and tear inflicted on the communal toothbrush by the other person. I can tell if my husband uses mine even one time and it makes me crazy.


• Be very, very open with each other about finances. Most people don't want to be in the dark and, even if they do, that's not fair to the other partner. No one should have to have all the responsibility.


• Get rid of your television. You'll play more Scrabble. And you'll love staying in hotels, because they all have television. I think at least one of our children was conceived while we watched Law and Order in a hotel.
  


• Don't go to bed angry. Feel free to go to bed angry. If we never went to bed angry, we'd fight all the time, because we'd never get any sleep!


• Don't assume that unhappy times will be unhappy for your relationship. Some of those hard times have shown me a loving and strong side of my husband I had never seen before.


• Don't assume happy times will be good for your marriage.
• Pregnancy and child-rearing are not easy on a marriage. They can bring you closer and they can be very rewarding, but they can lead to a heck of a lot of fighting, too. With each child, we've gotten better at accepting that we'll be miserable at certain times, like when we haven't slept in days. Sucking it up and paying for a housekeeper and babysitters can help with some of the resentment, but not all of it. Just get through it.


• Moving to a new (bigger, better) house is awesome, but stressful. You'll still fight: about what couch to buy, how much to spend, etc. Quit feeling sorry for yourself, be happy about the new house and convince your husband to just let you make the decorating decisions. Really. As a compromise, let him keep wearing the nasty green Chuck Taylors he's had since college.


• Making more money is great, but you still won't agree on how to spend it. When we were first married, my husband once wailed, "If I just made $XXX a year, we'd never fight!" He makes double that now. Guess what we still do? After the fight, have a calm discussion and try to compromise.


• Sex is important. There was a rumor traveling the housewife grapevine in my neighborhood a while back that the secret to marriage is having sex every other day (or more, for you over-achievers). For you newlyweds and fiancés, that may not seem like a lot, and for you new parents, that may seem impossible. Whatever your feelings, try it. I've heard it works. Even if you can't stick with it, it helps to try.


• It's been said before, but remember that sex doesn't always have to be a certain way. Some days, you have seven minutes in the closet and some days, the kids are all at friends' houses and you have the house to yourself. Wheeee!


• This is from my Mom, paraphrased. You'll fall in love at different, unpredictable times in your marriage. There may be months (or even years) during which you don't feel "in love." It's already happened to us, more than once, and we've only been married ten years. Wait it out. It'll happen for you again, and you can't predict when. I fell madly in love with my husband all over again after I had a miscarriage. Go figure.


• When choosing your partner, go with your gut. Your first impression of someone's character is probably spot on. Don't let yourself be blinded by unimportant details, like wealth, good lucks, a glamorous job or popularity. Is he a good person? Yes or no. You'll know from the beginning.


• If you do find yourself in a bad marriage, cut your losses and get out. Life is too short. People make mistakes, so don't beat yourself up. I'm not going to list the reasons you should get divorced, because you need to go with your gut. No one thing is a deal breaker for all people.


• Know in your heart that your husband is the one person you can spend the rest of your life with. I can't really tell you how you'll know, but I hope you will!


• Something about living together is hard. Don't expect the first year of marriage to be all hearts and flowers. Or the second year.


• Be your husband's biggest fan and marry someone who is yours.
  


• Try to love your in laws. It's okay to love them like you love your own family, with a little bit of resentment. But love them because they made your husband who he is. And try not to be too mad at them when you hate who your husband is.


• Don't be afraid of counseling. Sometimes it helps simply because, by going, you show each other that you want to stay together. Knowing you're loved goes a long way.
  


• Don't break up. If you've determined that you're in the right marriage, just stick with it.

I'm sure there's more, but I can't think of anything else right now. Happy Valentine's Day! Which reminds me: Don't expect your husband to just know what you expect in terms of gifts and acknowledgment on your birthday, Valentine's Day or any other holiday. Tell him. Over and over. Don't be passive aggressive and pouty. One day he'll get it.

Namasté, y'all!

* Okay, here's the recipe: Buy some peanut butter cookie dough, or make it, I don't care. Roll it into balls and cook them. Now stick a Hershey's Kiss into the top of each one. Hooray! Cookies!

I like pretty food!

Yesterday was my father-in-law's seventy seventh birthday and we had lunch here for him, which is always fun. When my husband's family gets together, the mix of American, Serbian and French culture is always interesting, to say the least. My sister in law and I plan to make millions one day when we publish a cookbook with Franco-Serbo-American recipes and plenty of stories about our in laws, but I digress. Yesterday, I made chicken broth for the guest of honor, because that's about all he wants to eat right now. When I asked if he had any special requests for his birthday, he answered,

"I am dreaming of chicken broth."

I think your dreams should be fulfilled on your birthday, so I made it. Later, I made a strange but good chicken salad with the leftover chicken:

Leftover Chicken Salad

Start with about 3 cups of pulled chicken in a bowl.

Add a dollop or two of mayonnaise. Err on the side of too little, you can always add more.

Add the following:

Two tablespoons sliced black olives, a handful of slivered almonds, a handful of golden raisins, a dash of curry, cumin and cayenne pepper and a splash of olive juice.

Add salt and pepper to taste. Yum. I just had some for breakfast!

I also made my Mom's rice salad, which is very pretty, and some sort of Mediterranean Meatloaf. I was going to make my version of Ćevapčići, but I got lazy and turned it into a meat loaf. Here it is:

My Mediterranean Meatloaf

In a deep casserole dish, dump the following:

1 pound of ground beef.

2 pounds ground lamb.

2 Eggs.

Maybe a third or a half a cup of bread crumbs (that's all I had, which was fine, because I don't like my meat loaf too bready.)

A bunch of fresh parsley. I took the bunch and chopped it with kitchen shears, letting the parsley fall right into the bowl. I'm all about less mess.

1/4 cup capers. Or so.

A spoonful each of minced garlic and ginger.

A healthy dash of curry powder, cumin and cayenne pepper.

Put on some plastic gloves. I get them at the Hyundai Market on Decker Blvd. Incidentally, you should go there, not only for the gloves. They have everything under the sun and it's easy to spend an hour shopping; don't forget the Pocky! I like these gloves:

Because they fit "my clean life style" perfectly!