last Saturday night can be summed up simply: dreary. rainy. cold. Winnie, observing the weather with disdain, had gone to bed early—flipped on her back, with legs protruding in the air. i could hear Elroy snoring deeply and rhythmically. to combat a total case of where-the-heck-did-summer-go blues, i decided to switch the remote to Ghost, crank up the KitchenAid stand mixer and whip up a batch of one of my favorite foul (um, i mean fall)-weather treats: chewy ginger cookies.
as soon as the first batch’s spicy scent began to permeate the family room, i started to feel a whole lot better. i made a cup of tea. put a few cookies on a plate. and contentedly settled in to watch one of my favorite modern-day classics. the love inside, you take it with you. grateful that you also leave some of it behind.
Chewy Ginger Cookies
from Country Inn and Bed and Breakfast Cookbook
makes 4-dozen cookies
INGREDIENTS
2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups butter
2 eggs
1/2 cup molasses
4 1/2 to 5 cups unbleached organic flour
3 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons ginger
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons cloves
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
turbinado sugar for rolling
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350F.
- in a mixer with paddle attachment, cream together sugar, butter, eggs and molasses.
- in a separate bowl, whisk together all dry ingredients.
- add dry ingredients to creamed mixture, until a dough forms.
- create small, walnut-size dough balls, and roll each in sugar.
- place about 2 inches apart on a cookie sheet covered with parchment paper.
- bake for 8 – 10 minutes, or until crinkled and slightly brown.
these easy-to-make cookies retain their spicy, sugary, buttery essence in an air-tight container—ideal to send to faraway family members and friends. if they’re really, really nice to you.
friends have expressed absolute delight about the advent of fall. in Colorado, i hiked on paths, where the sun shone brightly on golden aspen leaves, quaking in a light wind. in Washington, i paddled on glassy Baker Lake, where the reflection of the majestic peak mirrors its distant counterpart. ordinarily, it’s my favorite season. but this year, i’m simply not ready for summer to end. clinging to the vestiges of heirloom tomatoes and sweet corn, i’m going down kicking and screaming. that firmly stated, last weekend i acquiesced to my mother’s request to make something with northwest-grown butternut squash. and since the nearly two-pound fruit had tumbled out of the fridge and hit her squarely on the foot, i felt obligated to make something of substance. hence, my reluctant foray into fall.
regardless of the time of year—or state of mind—this butternut squash recipe is phenomenal. i serve it with a small spinach salad, splashed with vinaigrette. i’d encourage you to explore the original recipe to determine your own butternut squash true north. you can find mine here. the preparation is a bit of a process, so consider setting aside enough time to devote to it. the result is entirely worth the effort!
Butternut Squash Lasagna
a variation based on a recipe from Giada De Laurentiis/Food Network
INGREDIENTS
1 (1 1/2- to 2-pound) butternut squash, seeded
sunflower oil
salt and pepper
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup unbleached organic flour
3 1/2 cups whole milk
dash of nutmeg
some chopped fresh thyme or fresh sage leaves
6 lasagna noodles
2 1/2 cups shredded whole-milk mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup grated Parrano (or Parmesan) cheese
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350F.
- cut squash lengthwise and remove seeds.
- brush surface of each half with sunflower oil.
- cover cookie sheet with non-stick foil, and place squash on the cookie sheet pulp side down.
- bake for about 1 hour, 10 minutes or until the squash is soft.
- after the squash has cooled, remove pulp and transfer into a food processor.
- puree the squash, adding salt and pepper to taste. set aside.
- boil some water, and cook/drain lasagna noodles.
- at the same time, melt the butter in a medium-size saucepan over medium heat.
- add the flour and whisk for 1 minute.
- gradually whisk in the milk.
- whisking frequently, bring the mixture (aka bechamel sauce) to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to medium heat and let the sauce thicken. keep whisking!
- whisk in the nutmeg and chopped, fresh thyme or sage.
- add salt and pepper to taste.
- lightly butter a 13 x 9 x 2 glass baking dish.
- prepare your assembly line of ingredients: sauce, lasagna, pureed squash, grated mozzarella, Parrano.
- spread 1/2 of the bechamel sauce on the bottom of the baking dish.
- arrange three of the lasagna noodles on top of the sauce.
- smear 1/2 of the squash over the noodles.
- sprinkle 1/2 of the mozzarella over the squash.
- sprinkle 1/4 cup Parrano over the mozzarella.
- repeat the process with the remaining ingredients.
- tightly cover the baking dish with foil and bake your lasagna for 45 minutes.
- carefully remove the foil and pop back in the oven for another 15 minutes, or until the top is golden.
- let stand for 15 minutes before serving.
in late August, i made my biweekly run to the closest organic grocery store. as i emerged from the car, an aroma from my too-distant past wafted through the air. unmistakable. unforgettable. totally unbelievable. the fragrance of roasting green chiles. i looked around to get my bearings. i was still in the state of Washington, right? yeah, i definitely wasn’t lost. but i was immediately transported to a long-ago summer road trip to New Mexico.
a quest for Hatch green chiles—and some much-needed time off—prompted my partner and i to plan the getaway when the crop was in season. in my cherished VW Eurovan MV (i’ve had a lifelong love affair with VWs, but this one spent more time in the shop than any VW mechanic), we hopped on I-25 and traveled south from Colorado to Taos, then on to Santa Fe. we passed by miles of scruffy brush and stretches of pinon pines—all covered by bright blue, cloudless sky.
rotating between sleeping in the bus with the top popped and treating ourselves to a B&B, we’d frequent some of our favorite comfort-food eateries: Zia Diner for the hot roast turkey plate with cornbread stuffing and cranberry sauce. or meatloaf with green chiles and toasted pine nuts, followed by a slice of homemade pie. 66 Diner for green chile cheeseburgers and banana shakes.
our schedules didn’t allow us to travel all the way to Hatch to pick up our Big Jims, a green chile that delivers a delightful medium heat. locals directed us down to south Albuquerque, where we picked up two bushels of freshly roasted green chiles and loaded them into the back of the bus. in the same split second, we stopped and looked at each other: how would we keep the chiles from spoiling before we got home?
clearly, it would take some time for the chiles to cool from the roasting process. so, just before we went bed, we purchased the biggest bags of ice we could find, wrapped them in towels and tucked the chiles in tightly next to them. the chilled chiles made it through the night (whew), and we happily returned to Colorado with our prize. one of the best parts? the chile scent lingered in the van for weeks. sigh.
while some people clean chiles before freezing, i don’t. experience has taught that scraping chiles is one of those laborious tasks i prefer to deal with one small bag at a time. the Big Jims were separated into portions, popped into freezer bags and tossed in our extra freezer, so i could spend the next year making dainty batches of green chile at whim. over the years, we took quite a few jaunts to New Mexico. and though i’ll always be a northern girl, i left a piece of my heart south of Raton Pass.
startled back into reality by grocery store traffic, i went directly to the area where boxes marked Hatch green chiles were piled high. the roasters took my order for half a bushel, which i merrily picked up after my shopping.
here, i’ve shared my basic recipe: spicy and rich. it can be varied by using different kinds of tomatoes (my friend David likes romas, blanched and peeled), or adding ingredients like finely chopped garlic and tomatillos. whatever your approach, it’s hard to go wrong with a batch of Hatch green chiles. if you can’t find Hatch chiles, you can substitute Anaheims—but, in my humble opinion, it won’t be quite as sublime.
scout’s Green Chile
INGREDIENTS
3/4 pound pork shoulder blade steak (or small pork butt roast)
2 – 3 tablespoons flour
cayenne
salt and pepper
12 Hatch Big Jim green chiles, roasted, peeled and cleaned
12 cherry tomatoes, halfed
2 cups chicken broth
2 cups water
salt and pepper
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
DIRECTIONS
- heat medium skillet on medium-high heat.
- pat dry pork, and dredge in a mix of flour, salt, pepper and a tiny bit of cayenne.
- sear the meat on all sides until a brown crust forms; remove from pan and place in a crock pot.
- cut cleaned green chiles into strips and add to crock pot with halfed cherry tomatoes.
- cover the pork, green chiles and tomatoes with chicken stock and water.
- add some salt and pepper.
- place the lid on the crock pot and cook on low about 18 hours, or until the pork is tender and falls apart.
- melt the butter in a small saucepan, and add the flour to create a roux.
- with the green chile mixture on the stovetop over medium heat, add the roux, stirring constantly until thickened.
enjoy the green chile in a bowl, topped with grated cheddar, a little chopped cilantro and a dollop of sour cream. or over your burrito of choice. i also serve it over omelets. truth be told, i eat it on top of just about anything.
inspiration comes in many forms. and i welcome whatever form it takes. through my posts, you may have already learned how much i admire my backyard bees (front yard, too, guys…no offense intended). as fall begins to crowd out summer, the lavender menu becomes sparse. but the bees continue to savor every bit of every lavender head remaining in bloom. it is to their tenacity and commitment i bake and dedicate this recipe.
and so it isn’t missed by including as an endnote, i want to thank KPLU (Seattle’s NPR News and All That Jazz) host and food-lover Dick Stein for giving me the jolt of inspiration i needed to actually begin this blog. after ruminating about it for many months, a segment of Food for Thought, hosted by Dick and Seattle Times food critic Nancy Leson, put me over the edge (um, in a good way). the topic of that week’s broadcast? donuts (see the scout’s truth north very first blog post). Dick was also kind enough to point me to the totally hip recording of The Ink Spots’ Donuts, played during the segment. caution: like donuts themselves, the recording can be addicting.
Bee-Inspired Lemon-Lavender Shortbread
a variation based on a recipe from Everyday FOOD
reported to make 36 cookies; in my sometimes imperfect kitchen, it makes more like 24
INGREDIENTS
1 cup (2 sticks) butter (i don’t use unsalted as noted in the original recipe), at room temperature
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups unbleached organic flour
1 1/2 tablespoons culinary lavender
grated zest of 2 lemons
yellow sanding sugar (optional)
DIRECTIONS
- beat butter, sugar, vanilla and salt with an electric mixer until smooth. on low speed, add flour, mixing just until a dough forms.
- mix in lavender and lemon zest.
- divide dough in half; place each half on a piece of parchment paper. with floured hands, gently roll each into a 1 1/2-inch-diameter log. if you are so moved, sprinkle sanding sugar on logs, roll to press in.
- wrap the logs tightly in the parchment and stick in the fridge until firm (60 – 90 minutes).
- preheat oven to 350F.
- with a serrated knife, slice dough into 3/8-inch-thick pieces. if dough begins to crumble, stop immediately and let stand at room temp for 5 to 10 minutes.
- place slices on cookie sheets, about 1 inch apart (i put parchment paper on my sheets).
- bake about 15 minutes, until the cookies are very lightly golden around the edges.
- let sit on cookie sheets for a minute or two, then completely cool on wire rack.
i actually think the serrated knife makes these cookies look a little ratty around the bottom edge; next time i might try an alternative. the shortbread keeps wonderfully in an air-tight container for a week or perhaps even longer. but i wouldn’t know; they’re snarfed up too quickly. not my best photography, but the shortbread is lovely—light and buttery.
dogs are like people (my dogs would say that’s a myopic point of view). some are simply more perceptive. empathetic. able to put their own wants and needs aside to focus on the needs of others. and to uplift their objects of attention and devotion to a far, far better place.
tonight, our English bulldog Elroy sensed my heavy heart. as i sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling, he stretched to rest his head on my knee. ears down and big brown eyes peering up, his attempt alone brought comfort. grateful—and because he was clearly too short to reach me—i jumped off the bed and rubbed his head with thanks. he returned the favor with a little bulldog snort. um, if you’re already down here, would you mind scratching my back??
Hannah, my beloved bloodhound, shared some of Elroy’s admirable qualities: there when i needed her, asleep if i didn’t. well, unless something piqued her delicate sense of smell. then i could expect to be completely abandoned. sweet and generous to a fault, she forgave me for all the times i came home late from work. one hundred twenty five pounds of loose skin and wrinkles, Hannah’s constancy got me through some of life’s most-challenging transitions. i treasure every bit of her slobber that remains on my furniture to this day. 
in contrast, Winnie, the English bull terrier, is the center of her universe. excuse me, bark, it’s time for my breakfast (or lunch or dinner). helloooo, bark, i want to go out now. hey, bark, can you open the door to the deck, so i can go sun bathe? oh, bark, when you open the pantry door, don’t forget to give me my treat. but she’s as endearing as she is demanding. and if i hadn’t catered to her every whim for the last 12 years, she would have an entirely different attitude. or not. she is, after all, a terrier. 
to all of them, thanks for being there for me. hope i’ve done the same for you.
growing up in New England instilled lifelong loves of crisp, tart apples, cranberries, maple syrup, lobster and salt water taffy. but of all New England’s bounty, what i treasured most was being on its vast expanses of water. whether ocean or lake, i found peace there. and sometimes even adventure.
as a wiry, young girl scout, i spent a month of every summer in central New Hampshire on formidable Lake Winnipesaukee. i was a strong distance swimmer. a capable canoeist. but a novice sailor. camp staff took care to pair seasoned sailors with those of us who had limited skill and experience. my maiden voyages in small craft like Sunfish and Sailfish were exhilarating. longing to get out on the water, fellow counselor-in-training Jane and i decided to take a boat out for a few hours. the weather looked clear, the wind just right. Jane’s skills, unlike mine, well honed. (i was still sorting out a clove hitch from a sheet bend and a sheepshank; yeah, still doing that.) as the camp’s shore grew distant, we enjoyed the sun, our afternoon off from tending to campers and a smooth sail.
late-summer afternoons can bring volatile shifts in the weather. before we knew it, the sky grew dark, and the wind picked up. the water became choppy. as we bobbed around, i turned to expert skipper Jane for direction. but Jane, much to my chagrin, sat paralyzed at the stern, gripping the tiller, blubbering. and that’s when i realized it was up to me to get us back to camp.
let’s take down the sail, i shouted. Jane, did you hear me? Jane, can you get a grip? apparently not. i lowered the sail myself; Jane remained glued to the deck. sliding off the port bow, i grabbed the line and began to swim toward shore, Jane and Sunfish in tow. holding the line and swimming through the white caps with only one arm proved exhausting. i counted in my head, establishing a rhythm that kept me focused and moving forward. every now and then i’d yell out to Jane, how are doing? can you see the dock? after a time—and a lot of sniffles—Jane regained composure and began to root me on. we’re getting closer, you’re doing great, we’re almost there!
eventually, we were there. concerned counselors, knowing we had logged a boat out and not returned on schedule, had come down to the waterfront looking for us. we were scooped up in blankets and whisked to the dining hall, where warm drinks awaited. stories of our adventure buzzed around camp that night. all i cared about was crawling into my sleeping bag and crashing. our counselors watched over us until we did just that.
a few more summers in New Hampshire came and went. i contentedly spent my days on the water, paddling. but i continued to admire those blessed with the sailing gene. still do.
in memory of two skilled, stalwart, New England sailors who made a difference: Eunice Kennedy Shriver and Senator Ted Kennedy. may the wind be ever at your backs and the sunset crimson.
bread: i love to eat it. i love to make it. and i love exploring local bakeries to unearth that perfect loaf. i couldn’t go to sleep tonight without paying homage to the staff of Bread Farm, an artisan bakery based in the very cool little village of Edison, WA.
the sublime loaf? sour cherry-lemon bread. it’s chewy. moist. light. with an incredible texture and striking good looks. oh, that i could someday craft something as divine. it’s the stuff my dreams are made of.
and while i wouldn’t hesitate to drive the 40 miles between our place and Edison, i have the good fortune of having Bread Farm come to me—courtesy of the Port of Everett Marina farmers’ market.
every word on every page of Bread Farm’s Web site makes me feel that this team has found and is honoring their true north. a commitment to quality (a core tenet of my own creative philosophy) and to sustainable, local, organic food production. a passion for their craft (yeah, another of my core tenets). the stickers Bread Farm places on the bags that safeguard their creations read, we dig local farms. well, Bread Farm, i totally dig you.
this summer has been extraordinarily hot and dry. yesterday, as i set about to tackle yard work, i sadly noted the leaves have prematurely begun to fall. to conserve water, we’ve let our otherwise lush, green lawn turn an unattractive khaki. of course, despite the drought, the multitudinous varieties of weeds on our property remain prolific. but my perennials have been worthy rivals. little troopers continuing to flourish amidst climatic adversity. and the most persistent of all? the lavender.
Grosso, Hidcote, Italian, Munstead, Spanish. all happily blooming. all attracting eager, fuzzy, equally happy bees. walking by the gardens, i took in the heavenly scent and watched the bees bounce industriously from plant to plant. after a few minutes of observation, my heart felt uplifted. i burst into a big grin and jumped on the tractor to mow the dead grass. hee-ha!
a few photos shot in Sequim, WA lavender fields, out on the dramatically beautiful Olympic Peninsula. the bee on my home page header idles around the head of a Spanish lavender in my backyard garden.
neither northwest drizzle nor beating sun (and this year, there was a blissful dose of that) deter my Sunday morning jaunts to the Port of Everett Marina farmers’ market, right on Puget Sound. there, only a taut yellow tape separates me from the farmers and their fresh, organic produce. i stand poised, like a runner on the blocks, ready to burst forth at 11:00 a.m. sharp.
in early July, recyclable bag snugly tucked under my arm, i sprinted first to the Tonnemaker Family Orchard’s market tent. are the pie cherries in yet, i asked breathlessly. no, not yet. maybe in a few weeks, said the girl keeping watch over the Bings. poop.
i stopped by the Tonnemaker’s booth each week, standing on tip toes and craning my neck to ensure i hadn’t missed the mother lode. nothing. until one Sunday my eyes fell upon a bin piled high with tart Montgomery cherries. yes! i purchased five pounds and headed for home, where i immediately dug out the pitter. setting up an assembly line, with my 87-year-old mother manning the stem-removal station, i began to run the cherries through the pitting process. about 15 minutes into it, i remembered how totally tedious pitting cherries is. just like, as a child, having to stand perfectly still while my mom pinned the hem of a cute, little dress (ack) she was making for me. feeling all prickly, as i took deep breaths and willed myself not to budge.
ever the scout, i actually love doing things from scratch. and with a little self reminder of the ultimate prize, all five pounds of cherries were soon pitless. mom went for a much-deserved nap, while i began to cook the filling. it’s wonderful in a pie, which i made right away. or on top of a dense New York cheesecake (recipe below), which i made about two weeks later (having frozen the filling and then thawed). did i say the filling was so great that we got another five pounds of Montgomerys the following week and did it again??
combining the best of two recipes (one from Food Network /Peter Sterk and one from epicurious.com/PARADE) resulted in a delightfully tangy mixture that yields enough to make two pies.
Cherry Pie Filling
INGREDIENTS
5 pounds cherries (about 8 cups)
4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
4 tablespoons. fresh orange juice
1 tablespoons finely grated orange zest (felt like doubling here was too much; you decide)
4 tablespoons cornstarch
1 1/2 – 2 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
pinch of salt
DIRECTIONS
- place cherries in a large saucepan with lemon juice and orange juice, cover and heat, until cherries lose a lot of their juice.
- in the meantime, mix the cornstarch, sugar, cinnamon and salt in small bowl.
- remove the cherries from the heat and add the sugar mixture; mix well.
- then add the vanilla and orange zest; mix well.
- cook the mixture on low heat, stirring frequently, until thickened.
- remove from heat and let cool.
you can add a little water if too thick or more corn starch if not thick enough. my experience is add corn starch with caution, or you may end up with something too gelatinous. double ack.
cheesecake was my dad’s favorite dessert; he’d order it at seemingly every restaurant we went to. this recipe is awesome; it’s been a consistent favorite with family and friends. i think dad would have been an immediate fan, too.
New York Cheesecake
from Gourmet, by way of epicurious.com
my modifications included here:
butter a 9″ x 3″ round cake pan (i use a 4″, because i never could find a 3″) and preheat oven to 350F.
INGREDIENTS
5 (8oz) packages organic cream cheese, softened
1 3/4 cups sugar
3 tablespoons unbleached organic flour
finely grated zest of 1 lemon
finely grated zest of 1 orange
5 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
- DIRECTIONS
- beat together cream cheese, sugar, flour, and zests with an electric mixer until smooth.
- add eggs and yolks 1 at at time, beating on low speed until each ingredient is incorporated; scrape down bowl between each addition.
- add the vanilla and beat until incorporated.
- pour mixture into buttered pan.
- place round pan in a large roasting pan and transfer to oven rack. carefully pour enough warm water in the roasting pan to come 2/3 up the side of the round pan.
- bake until firm, about an hour. add more water to the roasting pan as needed. middle should be ever-so-slightly wobbly when the round pan is shaken.
- remove from water bath, and cool completely on rack.
- place in fridge, loosely covered with plastic wrap. chill for at least six hours.
- remove from the fridge, and run a knife around edge of cheesecake, as needed. then invert onto a plate.
bring to room temp before serving. top with cherry filling. or fresh raspberries. or drizzle with hot fudge. i’ve also created a variation with more lemon zest and culinary lavender that i get from Pelindaba Lavender on San Juan Island.
this summer’s weather blessed the northwest with an amazing abundance of fruits and vegetables. but let’s talk about that some other time. today, i want to give thanks for the bakers and owners of Frost Doughnuts, my divinely sweet summer discovery—a local, small business that’s doing it right. the shop has only been open a short time, and i am, like many others, already a steadfast consumer. in fact, i called Frost this morning at 9:00 to find out if they had my favorite banana-creme-filled treat available. the Frost staffer who answered my call told me that they only had one left. slightly dejected, i asked if they planned to bake any more. she speedily checked with the kitchen and told me they could make some for me. how many did i want? four? they’ll be ready in an hour.
an airy, yeast-based dough, filled with rich, velvety, real banana creme. topped with dark chocolate and crunchy walnuts. as Gerswhin said, who could ask for anything more?
i happily drove 22 miles to Frost and picked up my order. if i’d been thinking (i’m on vacation, so please cut me some slack), i could have checked Frost’s Facebook page or checked my Twitter feed to learn what the bakers would be serving up today. i’ll try to remember to do that on Saturday.
it feels like the Frost crew is following their own true north: a neighborhood business with a vision and an openness and commitment to customers.
littlebirdbaking.com 