Monday, June 9, 2008

Squash Blossoms!

"Girl!" my friend Pepper shouted into the phone, "I need you to come over and frrryyyy!!!"
Pepper is one of those instinctual cooks, a MacGyver of the kitchen who can throw together a gourmet meal with only two slices of cheese, some old bread, and a jar of spice that lost its label five years ago. I, on the other hand, don't know a grater from granita. But, we both acknowledge that I have one strength – I am a wiz with a tub of Crisco and a frying pan.

My southern roots shine through when it comes to frying, and I don't fool around with any of that namby-pamby olive oil stuff. So when Pepper decided to experiment with frying up some squash blossoms from her garden, she put out the call.

"We don't even have anything like that in the house," Pepper's daughter observed wryly when she saw me extract the blue and red container of Crisco from my shopping bag. "0 Grams Trans Fats!" the label shouted optimistically, as if that made the food you cook in it any less likely to kill you after 70 or so years of eating the stuff. But mmmmm, good.

Stumbling somewhat into Kitchen Chick's and the Gastro 3's territory, I used a recipe from Big City Little Kitchen for the cheesy stuffing. It calls for a cup of ricotta, so I took advantage of the fantabulous local variety from S. Serra Cheese, available from Morgan & York. I found that it's hopeless to try to use a tool to stuff the delicate little blossoms – you just have to break down and use your fingers. Once stuffed, do a little twist of the blossom at the end, dredge in egg and then toss in cornmeal, throw it into a pan of hot Crisco for about four minutes, and voila! Yummy little packets of cheesy summer goodness.

To be honest, the squash blossoms themselves don't seem to have a lot of flavor. They're simply an attractive, seasonal medium to contain the lovely cheese. And what more could you want, I ask?

(If you don't have access to your own garden and/or squash blossoms, they've been popping up at Farmers' Market for $3 a pint. Definitely a better deal than the $5/pint shelled peas, the cost of which seems somehow tied to gas prices. Are there pea speculators?)

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Picnic Pops 2008

After a rocky Spring that seemed to focus entirely on the health of her innards, The Button is essentially 100% back to normal, making her mother a nervous wreck with driving lessons at All Star Driving School (more on that in a future post).

We got to revisit all our friends at St. Joe's 3rd Floor Pediatrics when she had her actual appendix removed on April 24. Routine surgery and only one night in the hospital, thank heavens.

So now The Button is back in the groove at Pioneer. Their annual Picnic Pops concert was this weekend, and despite some gusty winds and ominous storm clouds late in the day the kids cranked out a wonderful performance. The Queen medley was especially rollicking, though I wonder how many of the teenagers actually know the whole history of Freddie and the band?

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Happy Birthday to Me!

Ah, it's great to be 27 years old. Again.

The Button and I have this running joke. When she was little, I had her trained to answer "27" whenever someone asked her how old I was. But one day, sitting at the sushi bar at Godaiko, chef Paul Tsai asked her "when is your birthday?"

"May 2," The Button responded, through a mouthful of tempura shrimp. Sensing an opportunity, Paul then asked "hey, how old is your mom?"

"27," she replied. Paul's look of disbelief must have been plain enough for even a 10-year-old to interpret, because she immediately turned to me accusingly, "wait a minute! If you're 27, that means you would have only been 17 when you had me!"

April 16 is my birthday, and of course I managed to stretch the festivities through the whole week. Liz Davis, long-time waitress at Old Town, crafted this wonderful birthday Pinot Grigio for me. And I chose to celebrate with The Accountant and old college friends at yet another one of Bob Sparrow's (pictured with friend Beth Pascoe) wonderful private dinners at Kerrytown.

27 feels pretty good. Again.