The first time I made a fresh pumpkin pie, I was 19. I was in college at the time and, perhaps, seeking connection to something of my roots, being far away from home and nearing the holidays for the first time in my life. It felt so organic, this undertaking upon which I had embarked; even my mother never made a fresh pumpkin pie. I picked what I thought to be the perfect pumpkin, carefully scooping out the guts and separating out the seeds for later roasting, I baked the meat to golden perfection.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Gluten-free Roasted Squash Blossoms Stuffed with Chevre, Adorned with Rose Chipotle Glacée
I love crispy autumn days. I love the comfort of slumber through the procession of lengthening nights and how the depth of the places I visit in my dreams expands with the shortening of days. I love waking up to sleepy sunbeams as they meander dreamily through amber leaves moistened by the kiss of dew. I love the crimson maples dotting an evergreen landscape in fiery contrast. I love the excitement of making my way down a golden path adorned as if confetti offered in celebration of my arrival. I love the radiant glow of the moon, full against the backdrop of the clear evening’s sky.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Gluten-free and Dairy-free Apple Strudel
I know you know our friend, Winfield Hobbs. He is a man of many talents: chiropractor, musician, artist and one of my top recipe testers. He also happens to be quite a performer, that is, both in the dancing and acting arenas. His summer role is that of a pastry chef and he asked me to develop a gluten-free apple strudel, which he could prepare for the cast as they put in their numerous rehearsal hours. As it turns out, at least one of the cast members is gluten-sensitive. So, as part of his birthday dinner, I developed this recipe. It followed a traditional Hasenpfeffer main course. I think he like it.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Garlic Whistle Pesto
We love pesto in our house, and I have made many varieties in the past. This is a newer version that I just put together and my mouth is but watering as I await my hens to roast. I have been waiting many months for garlic whistles to become available here. Last winter I shared a wonderful lunch with my cherished friend, Lucy Vaughters, who, at the time, made mention of such an accompaniment. She had hunted in her garden, then wintered-over, for garlic tops at no avail. Ever since I have sought the day in which I may whirl the often tossed-off garlic whistles with succulent olive oil and tasty nuts, then lace the flavorful culmination over the centering of choice.
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