Apricots and Almonds

Fragrances are often a memory trigger, especially food aromas. From now on, warm apricots and almonds will remind me of the trip to bury my Mom. I knew that we would be getting in late and might want something easy for breakfast, so I baked an apricot almond bread to take with us. I could smell it in the car on our way to the airport, even though it was inside my carry-on bag. I even ate some of it, pulled roughly from the end of the loaf and eaten with my airplane coffee when I felt the need of a snack. It was wonderful. The morning after we arrived I had a slice, toasted, with some coffee before getting ready to get out the door. It was comforting and the heat from the toaster brought out the fragrance of apricot even stronger.

It was an emotion filled time. I grieved over the loss of not only my Mom, but of the place she held in the family and how her home was the true home place for so many. We had no choice but to begin taking things out of the house, which was a jolt, even though expected. One day before 2015 winds down someone else will buy it and the house will start the next chapter in its life. It is the place of my childhood, filled with mental snapshots of long ago excitement and disappointments, birthdays and Christmases, books and baking, puzzles and plantings. Time to bid childhood places good bye, too. I hope that someone with a young family moves in. It's a good house for a family. My family grew together there and we held together these past few days, too, sharing photos and memories, exchanging hugs and stories, supporting each other as we buried Mom with Dad as the air was filled with drizzle which mingled with my tears. On either side of me, solid with love, was my Sweetie and my wonderful daughter. Even in my sadness I know that I'm truly blessed.

Hope you try this bread and hope it evokes good memories for you the next time you smell almonds and apricots.

Apricot Almond Braid
a variation on the Autumn Festival Bread in The Festive Bread Book by Kathy Cutler

This is a rich and elegant bread, flecked with dried apricots and sliced almonds. It has a texture similar to a brioche and is wonderful toasted.

Makes 1 loaf

1 tablespoon active dry yeast
2 tablespoons warm water (105 – 115 degrees F)
2 ¼ - 3 cups unbleached bread flour
½ teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ cup diced dried apricots
3 tablespoons sugar
1/3 cup warm milk (105 – 115 degrees F)
1 egg
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
½ cup sliced almonds

Dissolve yeast in warm water. Set aside for 5 minutes.

Combine 1 ½ cups flour, salt, nutmeg, diced dried apricots and sugar in mixing bowl. Mix thoroughly.

Mix together the warm milk, egg and almond extract. Add the milk mixture, yeast mixture and butter to the dry ingredients. Mix thoroughly.

Add enough remaining flour to make a soft dough. Knead on lightly floured surface until smooth, about 10 minutes.

Place in greased bowl, turning to coat top. Cover and let rise in warm place until double in bulk – about 1 hour.

Punch down dough. Flatten dough and sprinkle half of the sliced almonds over it. Roll up like a jelly roll, then fold the two ends towards the center. Flatten dough again. Again sprinkle on the sliced almonds, using them up. Again roll up like a jelly roll and fold the two ends towards the center. Knead dough about ten turns to fully incorporate the sliced almonds. Divide the dough into thirds. Make three ropes. Braid on a greased, parchment covered, or silicon mat covered baking sheet. Be sure to tuck the ends under.

Cover and let rise in a warm place until double – about 30 -45 minutes.

Bake in a preheated 400 degree F oven for 15 minutes.

Lower the oven temperature to 325 degrees F and return the loaf to the oven. Bake an additional 30 – 35 minutes or until done. Check at 20 minutes and cover lightly with aluminum foil if loaf looks like it is getting too dark or the nuts are burning.

Cool on a wire rack. If desired, drizzle with Confectioners Sugar Icing and sprinkle on some additional sliced almonds for decoration.

Confectioners Sugar Icing: Mix together 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar, 1/2 teaspoon vanilla, 1/4 teaspoon almond extract and 1-2 tablespoons milk. 

July and Meatballs

July is one of those months that hold beginnings and endings for me. It was the month I met my first husband and the month, years later, when I left him. I was the month of my first sleep-over camping experience as a girl, the month I started my last job, and the month we lost our son in an auto accident over a decade ago.


It was also the month, in 2008, when a wonderful blogger, Sherry Cermak of the What Did You Eat blog died of a heart attack. She was very young and touched a lot of hearts with her blog. A number of bloggers honored her by making something from her blog. I made Turkey Meatballs with Plum Sauce, inspired by a post of hers. Today, starting off the month of July, I made the recipe for dinner, making a few changes as I usually do. I always think of Sherry now when the plums come in. They are just ripening, so I used a few from my tree for the sauce. If you choose to make this dish, think for a moment of Sherry if you visited her blog or knew her, or of someone you know who died too young and was a sweet person. It never hurts to remember the good ones.

Turkey Meatballs with Citrus Plum Sauce

Ingredients:

2 Tbs. unsalted butter, divided
1 yellow onion, finely chopped, divided
1 small celery stalk, finely chopped
1 lb. ground turkey
1 cup rolled oats, whirled in a blender or food processor until lightly ground
1 egg
2 Tbs. chopped fresh oregano
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. freshly ground pepper
2/3 cup fresh citrus juice (I used a combination of orange and lime)
1 cup fresh diced plums, peels left on


Directions:
Make the meatballs

Preheat an oven to 425°F. Lightly oil a rimmed baking sheet.

In a large fry pan over medium-high heat, melt 1 tablespoon of the butter. Add the onion and sauté two minutes. Set aside 1-2 tablespoons of the onions. Add the celery to the pan and continue to sauté’ until softened, 2 to 3 minutes. Spoon into a bowl and let cool. Set the pan aside.

Add the turkey, oats (I actually used Quaker Multi Grain Hot Cereal, mix of rye, barley, oat and wheat whole grains), egg, oregano, salt and pepper to the cooled onion mixture, and mix gently but thoroughly with your hands. Shape the mixture into 12 meatballs and arrange on the prepared baking sheet.

Cook the meatballs and make the sauce.

Bake the meatballs until opaque throughout, about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt the remaining 1 tablespoon butter in the fry pan and combine the citrus juices, and plums in the fry pan and place over medium-high heat. Cook, stirring often, until the juice comes to a boil and the fruit is warmed through, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the reserved onions to the sauce, taste for seasonings, add salt and/or pepper as needed.

Divide the meatballs among dinner plates, spoon the plum sauce over them and serve immediately. Serves 3- 4.

Far From Perfect

It's so easy, sometimes, to imagine that another person's situation is better than ours. When I was in my early twenties and barely making the rent, I had dinner at the home of a couple who were in their 40's. They recently had decided to become active in a religion where you gave a good portion of your income to the church. At first I thought that they were very generous, but then I realized that it was only future income that was going to be donated...still generous, but they had accumulated quite a lot of nice material goods and property before this time and keeping those things meant that they would still have a far more luxurious life than I would at the time. So it seemed to me that their situation was better than mine. In retrospect I might not think so because the religion was quite restrictive about what they could think and I value the ability to learn, discover, argue, contemplate and make up my own mind.

Another time I was quite envious of a friend who was changing a fence and not sure what different material to use, plus they were concerned about the cost. All I could think of was how lucky they were to have a home where they could change things to make them the way they wanted them to be...I was still renting a smallish place. Still, as a renter, I was determined to grow things, even if I had no land. One year I planted corn and tomatoes in a tiny chunk of land between the sidewalk and the street in front of the building. The space was also shared by a telephone pole, so the actual land was maybe 3 feet by 3 feet.

The corn grew tall and the tomato plant blossomed and set fruit. The unexpected thing (remember I was pretty young and innocent) was that someone picked the corn, even before it was ripe, and took some of the tomatoes, too. Undefeated, the following year I filled plastic crates with plastic bags and dirt, then with carrot seeds and more tomato plants, then placed them on steps that went up to the apartment building's roof. Hardly anyone went there and the sun was good, so that year I had a harvest.

So for all of you who wish you had the bounty that I've had this summer, I wish that for you, too, but you can often find a way to plant seeds or seedlings for yourself to have your own harvest next year. There is something very satisfying about putting seeds in soil, tending and nurturing them, and harvesting something that you had a hand in growing. I know that apple trees and quince bushes take more room than a bucket or crate, but veggies (like the yellow pear tomatoes below) can be crammed in small places and so can herbs. All it takes is a container & some soil (available as potting soil in bags many places), sun, water, and seeds, plus a little attention from you. There are also community gardens in many cities.

The harvest continues, although we have been getting rain, so the tomatoes are far from perfect (you knew I'd fit that in somewhere, right?), with split skins and even a few spots chewed by the snails. Snails just love this misty weather! This is my view at work lately.

So one of the things that I've done with those less than beautiful tomatoes is to make fresh tomato sauce for pasta.

Recently I had three colors of tomatoes: green zebra, yellow pear, and red costolluto. I cut them into chunks, made a fresh sauce, and then stirred in tri-colored tortellini that had been cooked al dente. With some fresh Parmesan cheese grated over, it made a wonderful side dish for the local salmon that Sweetie had grilled. Some lightly steamed green beans filled out the plate.

Tri-Color Tortellini with Tri-Color Fresh Tomato Sauce

1/2 medium onion, chopped

1-2 clove garlic, minced

2 tablespoons olive or safflower oil

3-4 cups tomato chunks from red, green and yellow tomatoes. Cut cherry or pear tomatoes in half, cut the others into chunks about 1 inch in size

1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1/2 teaspoon dried basil

1/4 teaspoon dried, crushed rosemary

(fresh herbs, chopped, can be used...about a tablespoon of the oregano and basil and 1/2 tablespoon of the rosemary, or to taste)

1/4 teaspoon pepper

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 pound tri-color tortellini

Boiling water

Saute the onions and garlic in hot oil until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes, cover, reduce heat to simmer and cook for 5 minutes to release the juices and soften the tomatoes. Remove cover and stir, then add the herbs, pepper and salt, and stir to combine.

NOTE:This sauce includes the skin and seeds. If you prefer your sauce without those, skin and seed the tomatoes before adding to the onion mixture.

While the tomatoes are simmering, cook the tortellini in a large pot of boiling water. When the tortellini are al dente, drain well, then add to the tomato sauce. Stir well to coat the tortellini with the sauce. Serve, grating Parmesan cheese over each serving. Serve hot.

Serves 5 (or two hungry adolescents)

One Way to Remember

There are all sorts of ways to remember someone who has been a big part of your life. You can remember their humor, their interests, the way they spoke or looked, their favorite movies or books or music. One way to remember them is by what their favorite foods were.
Max had a granddad also named Max. They both loved foods that you enjoyed the most by picking at them. That might sound funny, but not everyone takes the same delight that they did at sitting down to a good picking session over a mess of Chesapeake Bay crabs that had been steamed with Old Bay seasoning. Although I enjoy cooking and baking with walnuts, I don't enjoy taking the time or concentration as they did in picking even the tiniest bit of walnut out of the cracked walnut shells. A related joy for the younger Max was the fun in taking steamed artichokes and picking each leaf off in turn, dipping it in butter, then pulling it through your teeth to extract the artichoke essence.

When we went to Seattle the first time Max was about 8. When we visited Pike Place and saw the great fish market, he talked Sweetie into buying a fresh King crab leg that had come from Alaska. The taste is nothing like frozen King crab legs, especially if you have a good palate like Max did. Being essentially spoiled from then on for anything except fresh, we were always on the lookout for them at fish markets and on restaurant menus. The same was true for lobster, another great opportunity for a picker. If it was fresh and on the menu, we somehow managed to find the funds to order at least one and enjoy the luxury.

When he was 15 Max became interested in cooking. We did a Parmesan cheese tasting one night when we were having pasta. First came the ugly stuff in the green cardboard container, then the already grated cheese sold in small plastic containers at the store, then an imported Argentinian Parmesan type cheese, then the wonderful cheese from Italy stamped with the Parmigiano-Reggiano stamp on the rind. As expected, he was wowed by the Italian cheese and could tell blindfolded which was which. Too soon he got his drivers license and the cooking lessons stopped. Still, on a day like today, eight years since the accident, it's good to remember the fun we had enjoying food in and out of the kitchen.