The View From Mrs. Sundberg's Window

Nice to be surprised now and then

2012-02-06T15:52:50Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. Another weekend without much snow but that's not the worst thing in the world. I'm contemplating making an appointment for a massage not so much because I need one but because it's something different to do since I can't go tobogganing and it would feel good and why not. It's ok to treat oneself now and then. Especially when there is stress involved. I recall reading once about how stress is simply the condition of being human. Well, I'm human.

And Valentine's Day is coming so maybe Mr. Sundberg will think, "Hmm. A gift card to the spa for this particular human is just the thing." But it doesn't matter much what he decides. He's never given me anything that isn't the sweetest thing. Last year it was roses and chocolate. Only the roses were this lovely purplish silver color, and the chocolate was filled with sea salt and caramel and almond slivers. I mean, my gosh. His every gift is so thoughtful.

I have to say, it has been a stressful few days with one of the kids having strep throat and one with an advanced chemistry class. And one far away wishing for cookies shaped like hearts. Throw in a strange odor in the basement while the washer is running, and my lack of familiarity with the periodic chart and a conversation about politics that got out of hand and a new pet dwarf bunny. Who chews on the paneling but IS potty trained already. Throw on top of it all an ad from a local floral shop suggesting if a man buys their wife flowers, he is guaranteed a "Happy Valentine's Night."

Well. What a lot of pressure to put on people receiving flowers. I won't go into detail, but gifts are from the heart, and given without expectation, or keeping track, and I know it seems trivial but you can't guarantee sex, or romance even. You just give. From your heart. Especially when Valentine's Day is on a Tuesday and includes guitar lessons, three hours of chemistry homework, a community development meeting, leftover pizza for dinner, and a need for formalwear to be pressed and ready to go for the jazz ensemble on Wednesday. The rest happens when it happens, flowers or no. The beauty of it all is, it's bound to, at some point. How 'bout that for an ad, Mr. Flower Man? How 'bout, "Love Someone? We Have Flowers, A Whole Bunch from Which to Choose. Pink and Red included. Give it a thought. You just never know."

It's the possibility of good things that keeps life interesting. Nice to be surprised now and then. Especially when you're human.

Feel like surprising your honey with a nice meal for Valentine's Day? Here's a soup for starters. Or for a main course if you've got a cheesecake hidden away in the fridge. With love from me to you.

Baked French Onion Soup

6 large sweet onions, thinly sliced
3-4 cloves garlic, finely minced
3 to 4 tablespoons olive oil
9 cups beef broth
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp onion powder
1/3 tsp ground black pepper
6-8 slices French or white bread
1 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
8 slices Gruyere or provolone cheese

Preheat oven to 325°.

Remove the crusts from slices of bread if you desire. Bake bread pieces 15 to 20 minutes or until lightly golden and crisped. Set aside.

Sauté sliced onions in olive oil over medium heat until onions become translucent but not brown. Add minced garlic cloves to onions during last few minutes, making sure garlic does not brown.

Stir in beef broth and seasonings. Bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer for 30 to 40 minutes. Adjust seasonings to taste adding salt and pepper as required. Remember that Parmesan is salty, so don't go overboard with the salt.

Ladle the soup into ovenproof serving bowls, one for each serving. Cover soup with a slice of bread. Top with Gruyère or provolone and sprinkle with Parmesan. Place serving bowls under broiler set on high, and broil six to seven minutes or until cheese is bubbly and a browned a bit. Serve with additional grated Parmesan cheese for sprinkling at table.

Makes about eight servings.

Enjoy!

No reason to stock up for the duration

2012-01-30T22:06:39Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. It's been a lot on the spirit with this lack of snow and warm weather. I saw kids playing catch today. Sweatshirts, no jackets, and throwing a football on grass. Forty degrees and sun, and yes, lovely, but come on. We haven't had the deep freeze yet, or the blizzard. No driving winds, no threat of wind chill, no battening down the hatches. No reason to stock up for the duration.

So we're doing what we need to do. No weather issues to keep me from my endodontic visit on Wednesday, so I'll be having a root canal midmorning and won't that be fun. There are few life experiences I would avoid were I able to choose, the root canal would be one. Had 'em before, will have 'em again.

The nice part about those crappy painful life events is the aftermath. Hopefully there is someone tuned in to the enormity of your discomfort, someone who will make sure you are warm and bring you a pillow and a bowl of soup once the numbness dissipates and you are able to eat without drooling it all over your chest. And then, as the day progresses, you might need a movie, or another blanket, or some more painkillers so you can resume your mild stupor.

I allow myself (except for the three childbirths) one solid day of misery and self-pity related to tooth or minor body procedures which require recovery time. After that, it's the routine. This time around, though, I may hole up for two days. I'll pretend it's a blizzard, my own mini-version, and I can't go anywhere, or get off the couch, even, because I might get frostbite or the chilblains, and who wants that on top of a root canal?

Here's what I'm whipping up for the kids so they have something wonderful to eat after school this week while I'm drinking blended chili through a straw up my nose. (Kidding. It'll be yogurt with a spoon.) Anyway, this one is a sure thing.

Grapefruit Pound Cake

2 c all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 2/3 c granulated sugar
6 T butter, softened
6 oz light cream cheese
2 large eggs
1/4 c canola oil
2 T grated grapefruit rind
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 c 2% milk
1/2 c fresh grapefruit juice
1 1/4 c powdered sugar

Combine flour, baking powder & 1/2 tsp salt, stirring well. Set aside. In large bowl, beat granulated sugar, butter and cream cheese until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time. Beat in oil, rind and vanilla. Add flour mixture and milk alternately to batter, beginning and ending with flour. Spoon batter into 10" tube pan coated with baking spray and dusted with flour. Bake at 325 for 1 hour and 10 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out with moist crumbs clinging. Cool in pan on wire rack 10 minutes. Invert cake and cool on rack.

Place juice in a saucepan over medium-high heat; bring to boil. Cook until reduced to 3 T (about 4 min). Cool slightly. Stir in powdered sugar and a dash of salt (add scant amount of milk if needed). Drizzle over cake. Serves 16.

Enjoy!

What better way to spend an evening

2012-01-23T23:42:05Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. There was a light coating of snow outside and more to come, which it did, on Sunday, and I was cooking up my own storm. Bean soup, cornbread, cherry cobbler. It must be something primitive in us to go to town in the kitchen when the weather takes a turn for the colder.

There's something else, too, about cooking. Other than whatever survival issues we have going deep in our subconscious. Cooking and baking, especially, make me feel both productive and calm at the same time. Not many things are like that in my world. Either it's productive and a bit stressful, or calm without much getting done. I'm not one of those enviable people who seems to have a steel cable of calm running through the spirit.

I love to cook alone, but I must say I wish Mr. Sundberg were around more because cooking with someone you love is about as good as it gets. There's the bumping into each other, and one person is making bread and the other is sautéing shrimp and there's wine and conversation and tasting and nodding. It's like a dance, cooking together. And then there's the meal, a table with candlelight and two plates and napkins and delicious food made together and shared. Oh, my.

Cooking with the kids is another story. There's a patience required, but a tenderness that rises up during the mixing and snitching cookie dough and banter about school. It's a way of loving, I think, to make food together, different from the solitary art of doing it alone. Get out the cookbook, I say. Call the children and make a feast. A giant salad or roast chicken or soup. And Valentine's Day is not long off. What better way to spend an evening than searing scallops and shredding lettuce and tasting the pasta dish...together. Dessert is up to you. I say a flourless chocolate cake, perhaps. Or something with cherries and cream cheese. Or a Pink Lady apple, cored and split on a plate, with a truffle from that little place in town. You know the one.

Here's a sweet treat for your sweetie. Make this one on your own, and it'll be a welcome surprise after a day at work or an afternoon cutting wood.

Cherry Chip Cheesecake Bars

1 pkg cherry chip cake mix
1/2 cup butter, softened
2 8 oz pkg cream cheese, softened
1 tub cherry frosting
3 eggs

Preheat oven to 325. Mix cake mix and butter until crumbly. Reserve one cup. Press remaining mixture in an ungreased 9x13 cake pan. In same bowl, beat cream cheese and frosting until smooth. Add eggs and beat until blended. Pour over crust; sprinkle with reserved crumbly mixture. Bake 45 minutes or so until set. Cool, cover, and refrigerate at least 2 hours until chilled. Store in fridge.

Enjoy!

Full of questions

2012-01-16T19:35:22Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I had to take a time out from talking with the kids, who seem full of questions these days, adolescence and all. My gosh. I get phone calls about what class to take, what major to pursue, how to combat loneliness, and when am I coming to pick her up. And at home, how do you know you're in love? Why do teachers give so much homework -- don't they know we're overwhelmed? Who won the Vietnam war? What makes you happy? Do you think teaching abstinence is right?

Well. I certainly don't have all the answers. I'm not sure I have any answers. I have my own experience, and my own bank of knowledge, and my own ideas, and my own parents to call when I have questions. Which I do. Often.

It was the abstinence question we spent such time on Saturday afternoon. My goodness. These are my children, and they were asking about SEX, and my responses require careful thought. There's always the textbook route, but really, in the big scheme of things, what matters really is how we love, and you can't point to a textbook for that. So I gave my own thoughts about how abstinence is a fine aspiration for some, and unrealistic for others, and that sex isn't like a pan of bars you share with everyone you meet. I told them there's a lot to be said for being conscientious and safe and respectful and humble, and sex isn't a destination but a journey and they must be responsible and mindful because it's like giving away a tiny piece of who you are. They looked at me and nodded as if they understood, and maybe they do, or maybe twenty years from now, I'll get a phone call where they share that they get it. Who knows.

I did say, as they got fidgety, that sex is a wonderful thing, glorious, even, and when you love someone the logistical issues and questions and awkwardness fall away and it feels good to touch each other and hold each other close as can be, because touch is good and love is good and creatures who go untouched fail to thrive. And then I gave them each a backrub and told them to hit the sack and when they did I poured myself the last of the Irish cream in the fridge and put my feet up and dialed Mr. Sundberg's number as he's in Arizona for the week giving a talk called "Why We Do What We Do." "Got a question for ya," I said, when he answered. "How was your day?" And he replied, and I listened.

This is a family recipe, delicious, and on the table every Christmas. Serve it with everything, including potatoes and salad and bread, and don't underestimate the power of gravy.

Sauerbraten Pot Roast

Top round roast, 1/2 lb per person

Saute 2 cups of sliced yellow onions til light brown.
Add 1 pint of cider vinegar
1 cup sugar
1 T whole cloves
1 T allspice
1 T salt
3 small hot peppers or drop of Tabasco sauce
2 bay leaves
1 quart water

Two-three days before serving, prick the top of the roast on all sides with fork and place in re-sealable plastic bag. Pour cooled marinade over meat, close bag and turn over once a day. Store in refrigerator.

When ready to cook, bring marinated beef to room temperature, about 2 hours.

Remove beef from marinade and pat dry. Strain marinade, reserving the liquid and onions.

Preheat oven to 325. In heated oiled heavy pan, brown all sides, about 5 minutes each side.

Place beef in oven pan, adding marinade to 1/2 way up the meat. Cover pan and braise in oven, turning every 30 minutes, for about 3 hours to get it very tender.

Reduce braising liquid by half about 30 minutes before roast is done; add 1/4 cup red wine and lemon juice to taste.

Carve roast against the grain into slices that are about 3/4 inch thick.

Arrange slices on serving platter. Add raisins and raw almonds to marinade for gravy before serving.

Enjoy!

So hard to grow up

2012-01-09T15:38:28Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I'm tempted to say we were out sunning ourselves in the heat but some things just aren't all that funny. Not when you live in a place known for wind chills and snowdrifts and plain old cold and there's nothing but yellowed grass in the yard and a warm breeze blowing in. Just not all that funny.

Like the whole hamster ordeal this week. My youngest asked, through tears, if I would please gently end her hamster's life as the tiny thing was clearly suffering -- a number of growths, hair loss, open wounds, etc. Enough detail. Someone had to do something, and I agreed. I think I spent about an hour researching how I might accomplish the task in the most kind and painless manner, and after a small argument about car exhaust (didn't go that route) it was decided and she went off to school in tears and I set about fulfilling her request.

Rodent or not, pets are pets and such decisions are painful. Carrying them out is a whole other ball game. My gosh. When I became a mother, no one mentioned I'd have to put hamsters out of their misery. I pride myself on exterminating any mice that show up in the house, so you'd think I'd have no trouble. The problem was the interaction. I picked up the hamster, and our eyes met. So much for detachment.

For all practical purposes, the hamster went to sleep and its tiny life slipped away, out of its ragged body. I gently wrapped the cold animal in Kleenex and sprinkled her with cloves and nutmeg and put her in a small cardboard box with some evergreen needles and poinsettia leaves. When my daughter came home, I handed the box to her and she went out into the garage and wept awhile.

The funny version of this story -- and there is one -- I will save awhile. One of those things where laughter might require time passing, and a bit of healing in my daughter's heart. So hard to grow up.

The weather person just said that snow is on its way, later today. I'm just so happy about this. Was simply a matter of time. Like most things.

Nothing like a thick, savory soup full of beans on a cold winter day. Here's the soup recipe. Now we just need a genuinely cold day and we're good to go.

Great Northern Bean Soup

1 1/2 lbs chicken, cooked and chopped or shredded
2 24 oz jars Great Northern Beans (or 2-3 16 oz cans of navy beans)
1 can creamed corn
1 1/2 T chili powder
1 T cumin
1 can Rotel chopped chilis and tomatoes
8 oz Monterey Jack cheese, cubed and added at the end

Cook for 2-3 hours on high in a crock pot. Serve with cornbread and a salad.

Enjoy!

A Postcard from Mrs. Sundberg's

2012-01-02T17:11:43Z

Well, I don't have a lot of time at the moment but I wanted to share with you that Mr. Sundberg and I are hidden away at a lodge in far northern Minnesota, a place I discovered on my recent road trip to Canada. Mr. Sundberg is out snowshoeing (he fell twice trying to get them on and there's not much snow so he's a bit on the crabby side) and I have a short while to relax and take in the lovely view of Lake Superior. I wanted to share the word I chose for the year, and it is "revival." I've decided I need to attend to some things that I've let fall to the side in my life, and return to others that I've left behind. Friendships, embroidery, and giving backrubs. (I'm hoping Mr. Sundberg takes my cue and remembers those wonderful foot massages he used to give me...) And photographs, too. I'm going to dig through mine and enlarge and frame them. Why keep them in a box? Not many things belong in a box, and those that do, do for a reason. Love letters and old keys and tax forms. I'd also like to write a book. I began one once, and I think it might have been alright. Going to return to that. Revive it. Might buy a stick or two of lipstick along the way, too. New color. New Year. Make it glow.

Here's a tummy warmer for the cold month ahead. Call your siblings and invite them over to play board games and share a pot of this wonderful Italian stew.

One-Pot Bean and Pasta Stew (Pasta e Fagioli)

1 pound dried cannelloni beans
5 slices bacon, diced
2 large yellow onions, sliced thin
3 celery stalks, diced
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 bay leaf
1/2 pound pasta
5 thyme sprigs
3 tsp salt
10 ounces baby spinach

Pour the beans in a large mixing bowl and cover with cool water. Let sit at least 6 hours or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 325°F.

In a heavy stock pot or Dutch oven, fry the bacon over medium heat. Once all the fat has rendered, remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and reserve. Pour off all put one T of bacon fat. Cook the onions slowly with 1/2 teaspoon of salt until they caramelize and turn golden brown, about half an hour. Add the celery and cook just until the celery is softened, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.

Remove half of the onion mixture and reserve with the bacon. Deglaze the pan with a cup of water, scraping up any brown residue that has formed on the bottom of the pan.

Drain the beans and pour them into the pot with the remaining onions. Add the bay leaf and enough water to cover the beans and onions by an inch. Cover the pot and bake in the oven for an hour. After an hour, check the beans every 15 minutes until they are completely soft.

Return the pot to the stove top on medium-high heat. Add the bacon, reserved onions, whole thyme sprigs, remaining salt, and pasta. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the pasta is al dente. Add more water if necessary.

Add the spinach to the pot and stir until it is wilted. Remove the bay leaf and the thyme stems. Taste and add more salt and pepper if desired.

Serves 8-10.

Enjoy!

The most right thing

2011-12-27T04:02:44Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. It's been a humdinger of a few days and I'm happy to say we made it through a number of holiday gatherings intact. I am tempted to use the word "gauntlet" but that implies something not positive and all in all it was a good time. The kids got some lovely gifts from their grandparents -- money, books, slippers, hunting knives -- and some really memorable gifts from Mr. Sundberg and myself: a letterman's jacket, a unicycle, some fine leather boots. And flannel pajamas. And underwear.

We ate well. Ham and turkey, ham and turkey, ham and turkey. Lots of ham and turkey. I love ham. I really like turkey. And now I am craving fajitas. And hamburgers. And rice. Maybe a salad even. And a nap. Oh, yes, a nap. Because my mother gave me this lovely blanket -- soft and ivory and plush and warm -- and I need it to be wrapped around my body at some point as I drift away from the stress.

Because there is always a bit of stress in the joy of the season. It kind of culminated in a comment from Mr. Sundberg's brother about how we always leave early, and nice how the car was parked in such a way (I backed into their driveway to ease up the unloading process) as to make a fast getaway. Well, it was easy to get out of the driveway. However, the whole wanting to leave early thing has been an issue over the years, and the truth of the matter is not that we want to get away from family, but rather go toward time alone. Together. In this beautiful season. Because Mr. Sundberg works hard, very hard, and I rarely see him, and it's mighty difficult to sit staring at plates of food and making small talk and playing games when really all I want to do is snuggle up in his arms by the fire with the tree on and the kids tucked away. Feels selfish to me. But it's true. It's not about not enjoying relatives and such. I love all that. But I love even more being alone with the people I strangely don't get enough of. I don't think that's wrong. In fact, I think it's the most right thing.

Anyway, it's not an argument. It's simply a plug for intimacy, and for time at home, and for something like fajitas or even a frozen pizza. I wish all of that for Mr. Sundberg's brother, and perhaps for someone with whom to share it all. And that would be my Christmas wish, for him and for all people who feel a bit lonely.

Here's a recipe for fajita beef that'll make you tip without a doubt. Cook it up tonight, and Enjoy!

Marinated Beef for Fajitas

1/2 bunch cilantro, chopped
the juice of 4 limes
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp paprika
4 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
3-4 lb beef skirt steak, trimmed

Place ingredients in a sealed container. Marinate in the refrigerator from 20 mins to 8 hrs, turning regularly. Remove meat and place on heated broiler or grill. Cook to medium rare, slice thinly and serve with your favorite fresh fajita toppings like grilled onion, tomato and sautéed pepper. Add avocado if you're an avocado person and roll in a warm tortilla.

That Christmas Spirit

2011-12-19T15:42:50Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I sat and listened while I ate a slice of apple pie, remembering the sweet potato pie my neighbor Mrs. Roesler brought over about this time last year. It was the best pie, a bit lumpy and kind of spicy with a brown sugary edge just before the crust. She did it every year -- baked a dozen of something and took it to all the neighbors just before Christmas. It was very thoughtful, really, all that work and then it disappeared.

But not really. She brought me a pie, but she also made me feel kind of special. It was so out of the blue. I was mixing up reindeer balls and there she was at the door, still wearing her apron and comfortable shoes, with a pie in her hand and a smile on her wrinkled face. She looked like an elf, or an ad for a bake fest. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Sundberg, and a Happy New Year to you and to yours." She handed me the pie and before I could speak she'd made her way down the steps and was halfway to her car. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Roesler!" She didn't look back, just raised her right hand and waved. She was on a mission.

She died on Christmas morning. They found her on the kitchen floor, sitting with her back up against the cupboards, her silver hair drawn up in a bun, her head turned to the left. She was wearing an apron and there was a wooden spoon in her hand, and she was smiling. They said she just died of natural causes, right there in her kitchen. There was sweet potato pie served at her funeral. She had no family, but everyone from the neighborhood was there, on New Year's Day.

The small things one does in a day really are what make a life. I miss that woman. That Christmas Spirit. May heaven have a kitchen, and a drawer full of aprons just her size.

I have a favorite spritz recipe, but it's nice to have a backup, something a little different. This cookie is remarkably light and flavorful.

Cream Cheesy Spritz

1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
3 oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
1-1/4 cups sugar
1 egg yolk
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1 tsp. pure almond extract
1 T butterscotch schnapps
2-1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp. salt

Preheat oven to 350°F. Cream together butter and cream cheese; add sugar.

Cream mixture until light and fluffy. Add egg yolk, beat well; stir in flavorings. On low speed, gradually add flour and salt.

Cookie dough will be soft and somewhat sticky; if too sticky, adjust by adding a tablespoon of flour at a time; if dough too stiff, add a tablespoon of milk at a time.

Fill cookie press and press cookies onto an ungreased cookie sheet. Sprinkle with colored sugars or color dough with a few drops of food coloring to make festively colored cookies.

Bake for 8-10 minutes or until lightly browned. Store in airtight container. Freeze if keeping for more than 2 weeks.

Makes about 4 dozen cookies.

Enjoy!

A kind of hope

2011-12-12T17:32:46Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I was feeling pretty good after a day with family, a holiday gathering at my brother's home to the north -- all kinds of dips and ham and turkey and potatoes in a cream sauce and bars and cookies. Just about anything a person might want to eat. We did a few photos and laughed and talked and played Scrabble and just WERE together. A good ol' time.

It wasn't until sometime on Sunday that Whatever It Is that I have set in. It wasn't the food or anything, and I haven't been running myself into the ground. But I did catch a bug, a virus, a malaise, and Lord Almighty it flattened me good. I was functioning pretty well on Monday even, but Tuesday I had to lie down and I haven't gotten up since except for a few bathroom visits and a number of trips to the kitchen for Alka-Seltzer Cold medicine, the orange fizzy pills, best thing for malaise since cod liver oil which I've yet to try and hopefully never will.

I don't think I have to say how much I loathe being incapacitated. So I won't. I will say the world is different when you are forced to retire to a couch for more than a day, and you notice things. I've noticed that there are cobwebs in the corners of the family room ceiling. I've noticed that the neighbors' Christmas lights continue to flash in my head a good three minutes after I close my eyes. I've noticed that my body isn't as young as it used to be and I have to gear up to roll over when my head is pounding and my body aches. And I've noticed that, amidst everything in our lives, there are only a few things we truly need. Water is one. Comfort is another. And to have our existence acknowledged and affirmed is pretty darn big.

I think the best moment of the past few days was when Mr. Sundberg came downstairs with a cool glass of water. He handed it to me, tucked my blanket in around my legs, and touched my forehead. It made me feel alive and I felt a kind of hope. (A bit different from the kind of alive I felt when the kids let the hamsters run over my blanket while I slept comfortably until one of them climbed up behind my ear.)

So here's to cool water and forehead kisses and the hope of feeling good again.

Here's a short one, a quick recipe for a holiday treat that everyone will love, and I like to think it's a healthy one, too. Protein in those nuts, you know. And chocolate takes care of the rest.

Peanut Clusters

24 oz vanilla almond bark
12 oz milk chocolate
6 oz semi sweet chocolate
2 lb salted peanuts
Melt together and mix well.
Drop by spoonsful onto wax paper.
Refrigerate.

Enjoy!

What matters really is the thought

2011-12-05T17:58:38Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I spent Saturday doing house things and cleaning a bit and getting ready for Christmas. I'm so glad worm season is over, I have to say. Not that I don't like worms but my goodness, after a while a person gets tired of scraping them up off the garage floor. They don't do much but poop, which makes fertile soil and for which I am grateful, but I am glad to not have that smell around for a spell.

It's cold out there but I'm not complaining. As I've said, it's part of the whole deal of living here and warmth takes on a whole new meaning. If I WERE to complain about this season, I would put forth the issue of commercialism. My gosh. I was still wearing my vampire pastry maker costume when the Christmas bulbs went on the shelves, and why a person would wait in line for hours on Thanksgiving Day is beyond me.

And the list. I am a list person, and I love lists, but trying to get separate lists for the kids to people to avoid gift repetition is a bit of a pain in the backside. What happened to impulse, to spontaneity? I get it, of course, and I'll play. People are busy and lists make it easier. But this year I'm going off the beaten trail with my own gift buying and finding things I stumble upon and purchasing in the spirit of serendipity and risk and fun. We'll see how it goes. Got my mom something lovely yesterday, and who knows whether she'll like it. I think she will. She likes red, and warmth, and, after all, clicheish as it may sound, what matters really IS the thought...

Comfort foods galore, and if you have leftover turkey in the freezer, pull it on out. I'd suggest using extra dough cut in seasonal shapes to decorate this pot pie, if you've extra time and feel like a bit of fun.

Turkey Pot Pie

6 T butter
6 T flour
2 cups turkey or chicken broth
1 cup milk or heavy cream
Salt, to taste
2 cloves garlic, pressed
1/2 tsp black pepper
4 cups cubed cooked turkey or chicken
1 lb. frozen peas, carrots and onion mixture
Crust for a two-crust pie

In a medium saucepan, melt butter over medium-low heat with the garlic cloves. Whisk in the flour and cook for several minutes, stirring occasionally. Gradually stir in broth until absorbed. Add the milk slowly, stirring constantly so that lumps don't form. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, uncovered, at a low simmer until the sauce has thickened, stirring occasionally. Cool for at least 30 minutes (may be made a day ahead).

Thaw the frozen peas, carrots and onions for 15 minutes. (Note: you can use 12 oz peas and carrots with 1 whole fresh onion, chopped).

Lightly butter a deep dish pie pan or shallow casserole. Line the bottom of the dish with one of the pie crusts. Add cooked cubed turkey and the vegetables. Pour in the gravy mixture. Cover with the upper pie crust and crimp the edges, if you wish.

Bake at 425 for about 40 minutes or until golden brown.

Enjoy!

We're complicated, we humans

2011-11-28T16:14:49Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I'd just returned from visiting my neighbor Larry, who is still a bit incapacitated after a strange mishap. Seems he's been oversleeping like we all have with the time changed combined with the cold weather. He's one who holds out til the last minute with the furnace, which is -- as most things can be -- both good and bad. He saves money, but is loathe -- as many of us are -- to get his bum out of bed when it's so warm there and so cold out there.

So he went out and bought himself a new-fangled alarm clock, the kind that goes off at the time it's been set, and the alarm triggers a mechanism that sends the clock rolling around the floor. You have to get up and chase the thing in order to turn it off. By the time it's off, you're awake. Things went fine for Larry when it went off Saturday morning. Until the clock made a turn and went down the stairs. And so did Larry.

Safe to say, Larry woke up Saturday morning a short while after his new alarm clock went off. He was at the foot of the stairs in the fetal position, a bump on his head and a pain in his back. The doctor said the concussion is minor and that he'll be back on his feet in no time, that rest is what he needs and some good loving care. I took some chicken soup over, and he's resting alright, propped up there in the recliner with the remote and some ginger ale.

I'm not sure what to say about all of this. I'm inclined to cheer for simple things like stationary clocks and turning on the heat when the air grows cold. But we're complicated, we humans. And broken. We screw up in silly ways, and my wish is that when we do, there's someone out there who overlooks our foolishness and brings us chicken soup. May you not oversleep these dark winter days, and if you do, may you not smack your head against the bathroom door upon rising.

People are heading out to the Dakotas lately to hunt pheasant, and my father so graciously shared his secret recipe for the tasty bird. Have at it.

Creamed Pheasant on Rice

Filet meat off breast of pheasant (or cut in half lengthwise). Remove thighs from leg by disjointing at knee. Remove all shot and feathers from meat. Shake meat pieces in paper bag with 2-3 tbsp. flour and salt and pepper. Brown meat pieces in butter in skillet. When brown, add 1 cup water, cover, and simmer meat until thighs are tender -- about 30-45 min. When tender, remove meat from skillet, and take out any remaining bones. Cut meat into bite-sized pieces.

Add 1T chopped onion to remaining juice in skillet, along with 1 stalk diced celery, if desired, and simmer a few minutes. Add 4 oz. sliced fresh mushroom. Add water if needed, and simmer a few minutes more. Add 1 can cream of mushroom or cream of chicken soup, and meat. Stir, and add enough milk (or add some cream if you feel decadent) to reach desired consistency. Season to taste. Simmer half an hour or so on low heat. Serve over a mix of wild rice and white rice.

Good Rice
Simmer 1/4 c. wild rice in 1 cup of water or 1 cup chicken broth, and 1T butter for 40 minutes. Add 3/4 cup white rice and 1 1/2 cups water and simmer another 20 minutes. Add water to rice if needed to get desired consistency. Remove from heat and let rice stand 5-10 minutes. Serve creamed pheasant over the rice. You can embellish this with veggies, your own favorite seasonings and your own choice of wine.

Enjoy!

Tenderness and lightheartedness

2011-11-21T18:45:06Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. A godsend, as it often is, and source of real delight. There's not enough of that in the world, I think. Light-heartedness. And there's not enough tenderness, either. I could list a hundred things of which I'd like a bit more. Chocolate, of course, and sledding expeditions, and time to lie and bed and fool around but let's not get carried away.

I'm thankful for so much it feels silly to point out what isn't, but then how might we find more of what we wish for if we don't speak it and seek it out? I'm thankful for you, of course, each of you, who pause in your day to pay a bit of attention to my silliness and my agonies. And those of you who love to cook and bake as I do, and indulge me in my going on about it -- for you I am so grateful. For my children and their angst and hopes, for Mr. Sundberg in his diligence and love for things like flannel shirts and good crossword puzzles and speeches that incite and peach pie. For my parents and the trail they've blazed, and my brothers and their passionate, hard-working lives. For Angela and Laurel and Louis and Bob. For starlight, for cinnamon, for cotton towels, and for song.

Two things, this Thanksgiving, I wish for you: tenderness and lightheartedness. One to give, and one to receive on a day when emotions run high. Pause, then, and be gentle with someone, and loving, and sweet. And pause again to laugh, make merry, feel delight.

Emerson said, "I am thankful for small mercies. I compared notes with one of my friends who expects everything of the universe, and is disappointed when anything is less than the best, and I found that I begin at the other extreme, expecting nothing, and am always full of thanks for moderate goods..."
— Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Experience"

I like Ralph. But I like you more. Happy Thanksgiving, Dear Ones.

Crapple Crumb Pie

Crust for a single crust pie, however you do it
1 1/4 cups flour, divided
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup quick-cooking oats
9 T butter, divided
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
Pinch salt
4 to 5 medium apples, your favorite, peeled, cored and thinly sliced
2 tsp. fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup cranberries

Prepare pie crust. Preheat oven to 425. Combine 1 cup flour, brown sugar and oats in medium bowl. Blend in 8 T butter to form large coarse crumbs; set aside.

Combine remaining 1/4 cup flour, granulated sugar, cinnamon and salt in small bowl; set aside. Toss apples with lemon juice in large bowl; toss in cranberries and flour mixture. Arrange apple mixture in pie crust; dot with remaining 1 T butter, then sprinkle with crumb topping. Place on heated baking sheet and decrease oven to 375°. Bake 1 hour or until juices are bubbling. Cool on wire rack. After baking half an hour, cover pie crust loosely with aluminum foil, if necessary, to avoid overbrowning.

Enjoy!

The storm is coming

2011-11-14T15:52:18Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. It was chilly on Saturday, and there's been no snow, but the few leaves left are blowing around in the wind and it's only a matter of time before everything is covered in white. Deep, cold, sparkling snow. Crispy, crunchy, piled up snow. One reason I live here, and one reason I'll never leave.

I talked with my gas-station-lady friend Laurie this morning and she is dreading what she calls "the onslaught." "I don't know how I'm going to survive," she says. Laurie hates winter, and I sure don't judge her for that. I mean, I'm no fan of the drizzle and mud of spring. Everyone is entitled to feelings about the seasons, but that's part of the glory of living where I live. There ARE seasons, and if the one we're in is not your cup of tea, your tea is soon on its way. Much more preferable than a place where every day is the same.

The thing about winter in Minnesota? It helps clarify the meaning of warmth, of comfort. How would we get what it is to come in and peel off layers, warm up by the fire or a hot stove, sip from mugs filled with liquid chocolate or spiced tea, eat bowls of cheesy wild rice soup and plates of steaming chicken noodle hotdish, entwine our legs with someone we love all wrapped in blankets on a big ol' couch, snuggle into a bed piled high with quilts and drift off? Because of winter, we smell wood burning for months. We burn more calories, and have whole days, stretches of days, unable to leave our homes for the snow. We can bake all we want, and play board games, and sit up late watching what the moon does to that snow piled up to our window sills.

The storm is coming, sure. And along with it a thousand ways you're bound to feel good. Just wait and see.

Here's a recipe from my daughter away at college, something she's been craving, and there's a reason for that. These bars are perfect for the holiday, and decadent, and a fine way to bring a smile to the face of someone you love. Good comfort food, too, for the record.

Red Velvet Cream Cheese Brownies

Red Velvet:
1 stick unsalted butter, melted
1 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 cup cocoa powder
Pinch salt
1 T red food coloring
1 tsp apple cider vinegar
2 eggs
3/4 cup flour

Cream Cheese:
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup sugar
1 egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350. Butter an 8 x 8 inch pan.

Brownie layer: Add melted butter to a large bowl and add sugar, vanilla, cocoa powder, salt, food coloring, and vinegar, mixing after each addition. Whisk the eggs into the cocoa mix. Mix in the flour. Pour the batter into the pan, saving 1/3 to 1/4 cup of the batter for the cream cheese layer.

Cream cheese layer: blend together cream cheese, sugar, egg, and vanilla in a mixing bowl. Spread the cream cheese on top of the brownie batter in the pan. Put the remaining cocoa batter over the cream cheese layer. Using the tip of a knife, swirl through the cream cheese mixture to create a pattern. Bake for 30 minutes. Cool before cutting, and store in the fridge.

Enjoy!

Alive in the best way

2011-11-07T22:04:52Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I was going around turning the clocks back with "The Kentucky Waltz" in the background. Kathy Chiavola played, dedicating the waltz to her mother who died recently. So of course while I'm turning back the clocks I'm thinking about time and how fast it goes and going back in time and when people say, "It's about time", what that really means.

Is it about time? Is WHAT about time? I don't know. What I do know is that if whatever it is, is about time, I'd like to turn back the clocks for just one day. I'd go back to a November in the early 1970s. It was a Saturday, late in the afternoon. The sky was grey, a bit cloudy. No snow yet. We were outside, playing in the leaves with our dog, pulling each other in the red wagon, playing some kind of fighting game with garden tools. Dad was in the garage doing something with hunting gear. Mom was in the house making dinner. Beef stroganoff, let's say.

I don't know if it was true in the moment, but as I recall it was a perfect afternoon. We were alive in the best way, and the air smelled of leaves and wood smoke, and there was no thought of anything beyond that pile of leaves in that yard and each other.

There are other days to which I'd return, if I could. Not to stay there, but to visit. It is about time. And space. And love. That's what it's about, if you ask me.

I know it's getting on in the apple season, but it would be a real pity if I didn't share with you my mother's apple pie recipe. I'm not a pro at pie-baking, but this recipe works quite well. At least, when Mom makes it, it does.

Mrs. Sundberg's Mother's Perfect Apple Pie

7-8 tart apples (honeycrisp or any firm tart apple)
3/4 to 1 c sugar (I use short 1 cup)
2 T flour
1 tsp cinnamon
dash nutmeg
dash salt
Pastry for 2 crust 9" pie
2 T butter

Pare apples and slice thin. Combine sugar, flour, spices, & salt; mix with apples. Line 9" pie plate with pastry, fill with apple mixture; dot with butter. Adjust top crust; sprinkle with sugar for sparkle. Bake in hot oven (400) 50 minutes or till done.

Enjoy!

A gentle spirit and good soul

2011-10-31T15:14:01Z

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I spent much of the weekend mowing my yard with the bag attached. Which felt much like vacuuming as most of the leaves got bagged, too, and I filled a large number of the industrial-sized ones, which now rest in my garage. A big job, and something I might complain about were I so inclined. And then there's the whole Halloween shebang, which is a small job in itself if one goes all-out, which I aspire to, but never really do. A lit pumpkin and a big ol' bowl of candy (chocolate bars, of course) and a few window clings and scary books is about the extent of the celebration at this house. I don't have a costume, though. Only some silly round and black-framed glasses which are pretty hilarious in themselves, and a big ol' fuzzy blonde wig. I'll drag the fire pit to the driveway and sit out there and smile and have a nice time greeting the neighbor kids.

My heart isn't in it, though. The news arrived this morning, and there's a silence in the world that wasn't there before. It'll blend in with the other silences, and be there among the din of ordinary life, but if you'll listen for it, you'll always hear it: the silence that Mr. Tom Keith, the sound effects man for the show, leaves behind. He passed away only a short stretch of hours ago, and I was so sad to hear.

He was 64 years old, and worked with Mr. Keillor since 1976. I did not know Mr. Keith personally, but I have met him, and what a gentle spirit and good soul. He made me laugh, made so many people laugh, and what a gift to the world to bring such a thing. And now he is gone, and I've lit a candle for him, and for the sweetness of laughter.

Here's a lovely recipe shared by my best friend Angela, who got it from Dorie Greenspan, who got it from her friend Catherine in France, whose husband has a farm just outside of Lyon and pumpkin is one of his crops. That's how recipes get where they're going; you pass them on to the world.

A REALLY GOOD STUFFED PUMPKIN

1 pumpkin, about 2 1/2 to 3 pounds
4 ounces stale bread, sliced thin and cut into 1/2-inch chunks
4 ounces cheese, such as Gruyere, Swiss, Blue, Cheddar or a combination, cut into 1/2-inch chunks
2-4 cloves garlic (to taste), peeled, germ removed and coarsely chopped
About 1/3 cup heavy cream
Freshly grated nutmeg
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350. Either line a baking sheet with parchment or foil. For a larger pumpkin, use a Dutch oven, as the pumpkin may collapse a bit. Using a sturdy knife, cut a nice-sized cap off the top of the pumpkin. Clear away any seeds and strings from the cap and set aside while you scoop the seeds and filaments from inside the pumpkin. Save the seeds for roasting if you like. Season the inside of the pumpkin with salt and pepper and put it on the sheet or in the casserole.

I prefer to toss the bread, cheese and garlic together in a bowl, then pack it into the pumpkin, but you can alternate layers of bread and cheese and scatter the garlic. Either way, fill it well. You might have a little too much filling or you might need to add to it -- it's hard to be precise. Season the cream with salt, pepper and several gratings of fresh nutmeg and pour the cream into the pumpkin, enough to moisten the filling.

Put the cap back in place and bake the pumpkin for about 2 hours -- check after an hour -- or until everything inside the pumpkin is bubbly and the flesh of the pumpkin is tender enough to be pierced with a knife. Remove the cap during the last 20 minutes or so of baking so that the top could brown. Cut the pumpkin into wedges, and serve it with some of the stuffing, or leave the pumpkin whole and use a big spoon to scoop out pumpkin and filling. You could even scrape the pumpkin into the filling and mix it all up.

Next time, try adding bacon or ham, or herbs (a little thyme might be nice) or pine nuts, or pecans. Makes 2 generous or 4 smaller servings

Enjoy!