So, A Needle Pulling Thread

I have posted a couple of quilts already. This small quilt uses snowball blocks. It is the same block but reverse colors as the Spice Cake quilt which uses dark centers and light corners. I used a light center and dark corners for this one which you can see, changes everything. M gave me a selection of blue fabrics (all her quilts are blue and red) to use. She also showed me how to scallop the edges and cut a bias binding. The backing is length of toile from T's warehouse sale.

Mother received it for her birthday in July. I put it together feverishly and it shows. Some of the blocks don't match up; the corners are dark. I like to think it is a homemade piece and who would care. This makes me feel it's something special and not a mistake. I think I should treat more life situations like this. Can we create our life? The realist dreamer says yes and no. Yesterday I was taken with this piece of writing (audio) from Blaise Pascal's Pensées, returning home from a very enjoyable three days in SG.

Let each of us examine his thoughts; he will find them wholly concerned with the past or the future. We almost never think of the present, and if we do think of it, it is only to see what light it throws on our plans for the future. The present is never our end. Thus we never actually live, but hope to live, and since we are always planning how to be happy, it is inevitable that we should never be so.

Light the First Light of Evening

What a handsome silvery sea urchin!

Anglais Mort A Florence

By Wallace Stevens

A little less returned for him each spring.
Music began to fail him. Brahms, although
His dark familiar, often walked apart.

His spirit grew uncertain of delight,
Certain of its uncertainty, in which
That dark companion left him unconsoled

For a self returning mostly memory.
Only last year he said that the naked moon
Was not the moon he used to see, to feel

(In the pale coherences of moon and mood
When he was young), naked and alien,
More leanly shining from a lankier sky.

Its ruddy pallor had grown cadaverous.
He used his reason, exercised his will,
Turning in time to Brahms as alternate

In speech. He was that music and himself.
They were particles of order, a single majesty:
But he remembered the time when he stood alone.

He stood at last by God's help and the police;
But he remembered the time when he stood alone.
He yielded himself to that single majesty;

But he remembered the time when he stood alone,
When to be and delight to be seemed to be one,
Before the colors deepened and grew small.

On My List: Golden September

1. Begin One Hundred Years of Solitude in earnest, i.e., stop reading the first line for the umpteenth time: "Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice."

2. Anticipate a month of Island Coconut at Golden Spoon.

3. Begin quilt class and complete a sampler quilt in 12 months. I will use reds.

4. Eek out all occasions to submerge in the warm water.

5. Watch for opportunities of change, including produce, people, and situation.

6. Make tarte tatin, autumn dessert of dreams.

Home Away from Home

Each Thursday I volunteer for two hours at my library branch. Can you spell happiness? I walk, cutting through this alley to admire four colors of bougainvilla.






Normally in a touch of a hurry, I arrive slightly sweaty and chipper. I head to the worker office (where I am privy to the door code) and drop my bag, sign in on the clipboard, and don a volunteer badge necklace. I grab a shelving cart and start organizing. I push the cart around the rows of books. I shelve, I align, I tidy. Normally I end in the children's library. There are so many books (since they are small, thin). At the end of my shift I check out whatever books I want on the computer, scanning barcodes, printing date due slips. It is a highlight. I love books. I walk home to lunch.

I Want to Write Something So Simply

I want to write something
so simply
about love
or about pain
that even
as you are reading
you feel it
and as you read
you keep feeling it
and though it be my story
it will be common,
though it be singular
it will be known to you
so that by the end
you will think—
no, you will realize—
that it was all the while
yourself arranging the words,
that it was all the time
words that you yourself,
out of your own heart
had been saying.

Mary Oliver
Evidence

Chocolate Gobs

When you have less than a stick of butter and no brown sugar, the hunt is on for a good cookie recipe. I went first to Baking: From My Home to Yours from our national treasure, Dorie Greenspan. She came through on page 70 where very rich looking Chocolate Chunkers nestle cozily onto page 71. Calling for 3 tablespoons of butter and no brown sugar but five kinds of chocolate that incredibly and embarassingly were on hand, I made them. Toasted pecans and golden raisins broke the chocolate haze and I did not faint. However, one is enough for now. I will now decide who among my sturdy acquaintances can stomach the remainders.

I am the first person to appreciate a recipe name and probably one of the first to pause in midstep at a clunker. Dorie's name of Chocolate Chunkers is a bee in my bonnet, avoiding as I do words like chunk or nugget for any food. We know they were once favorites at Soho Charcuterie (now closed) and still served at Sarabeth's where they are called Chocolate Chubs. Another word I don't use. At Soho Charcuterie, they were named Chocolate Gobs. Finally. I can approve as we recall Wonka, everlasting gobstoppers, and England's Roald Dahl. Chocolate Frogs. Chocolate Gobs.

1/3 C all-purpose flour
1/4 C unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 t salt
1/4 t baking powder
3 T unsalted butter, cut into 3 pieces
6 oz bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
1 oz unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped
2 large eggs, at room temperature
2/3 C sugar
1 t pure vanilla extract
6 oz semisweet chocoalte, chopped into chunks
6 oz premium-quality milk or white chocolate, chopped into chunks
1 1/2 C coarsely chopped nuts, preferably salted peanuts or toasted pecans
1 C moist, plump raisins (dark or golden) or finely chopped moist, plump dried apricots

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line baking sheets with parchment. Sift together the flour, cocoa, salt, and baking powder. Set a heatproof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water. Add the butter, bittersweet chocolate, and unsweetened chocolate and heat, stirring occasionally, just until melted—the chocolate and butter should be smooth and shiny but not so hot that the butter separates. Remove the bowl from the heat and set it on the counter to cool.
Working with a stand mixer, preferably fitted with a paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the eggs and sugar together on medium-high speed for about 2 minutes, until they are pale and foamy. Beat in the vanilla extract, then scrape down the bowl. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the melted butter and chocolate, mixing only until incorporated. With a rubber spatula, scrape down the bowl, then, on low speed, add the dry ingredients. Mix just until the dry ingredients disappear into the dough, which will be thick, smooth, and shiny. Scrape down the bowl and, using the rubber spatula, mix in the semisweet and milk (or white) chocolate chunks, nuts, and raisins—you'll have more crunchies than dough at this point. (The dough can be wrapped in plastic and kept refrigerated for up to 3 days.)
Drop the dough by generously heaping tablespoonfuls onto the baking sheets, leaving about an inch of space between the mounds of dough. Bake the cookies one sheet at a time for 10 to 12 minutes. The tops of the cookies will look a little dry but the interiors should still be soft. Remove the baking sheet and carefully, using a broad metal spatula, lift the cookies onto a cooling rack to cool to room temperature. Repeat with the remaining dough, baking only one sheet of cookies at a time and making sure to cool the baking sheets between batches. If, when the cookies are cooled, the chocolate is still gooey and you'd like it to be a bit firmer, just pop the cookies into the fridge for about 10 minutes.

Blueberry Crumble and Chewy Chocolate

Some people are "chocolate eaters," eschewing most other desserts in a firm tone. Like saying you vacation in France and will not chance buying a ticket to Italy. I don't judge this stance. I grew up in an all chocolate family. We had such a self-proclaimed guest at the table this evening for a line of three desserts. Warm flan, blueberry crumble, and chewy chocolate cookies. Of course I played out the evening before it happened. Making sure the chocolate eater had plenty of chocolate to eat, knowing she would most likely invest only in it. Therefore, I was impressed when this guest took a second helping of the crumble. I guess I could excuse it saying blueberries are a superfood and the guest is health aware. I choose to think the taste was so pleasing, the chocolate (low-fat) cookies took second, which I kind of like. The blueberries were fresh, purchased for a song at Henry's. The crumble was plentiful and tasty, a hint of cinnamon. I baked it in my French casserole with its pleasing curves. The flan was also delicious and warm and nummy. I never make flan so it was a treat. We did not overeat. We sampled three dishes, and lived to tell.

Blueberry-Blackberry Crumble
Adapted from A Platter of Figs and Other Recipes by Davis Tanis

1 1/2 C all-purpose flour
1 C packed brown sugar
1/2 t cinnamon
8 T (1 stick) cold sweet butter, in small pieces
3 pints blueberries (I used only blueberries)
3 pints blackberries
1/2 C granulated sugar

Preheat oven to 350 F. To make the topping, combine the flour, brown sugar, and cinnamon in a bowl. Add the butter and work it in with your fingertips until you have a crumbly mixture. In another bowl, toss the blueberries and blackberries with the granulated sugar. Pile the sugared fruit into a large gratin dish or two pie plates. Mound the topping over the fruit. Bake for an hour, or until the topping is nicely browned. Cool for 15 minutes before serving, or serve at room temperature.

Orange Fire and Coconut

In case you are wondering I have spent the last few weeks doused in Feu d'Orange from L'Occitane and Exotic Coconut body cream. It seems I can't get enough of the scent of coconut. Spending some time in the hot air balloon of St. George, for once I didn't dry out totally what with the layers of body cream. We celebrated the 4th of July, mother's birthday, J's birthday, and summer days. Our menus included four kinds of cookies (seven layer bars from Greyston Bakery Cookbook, Katherine Hepburn's brownies, strawberry-shortcake cookies, salted peanut butter toffee cookies from Pure Dessert), coleslaw, green chile pork posole, guacamole, fresh bread, macadamia fudge torte, and carrot cake with fresh orange rind frosting from Sweet Melissa, in addition to Brian's famous Benihana rice which I ate for breakfast at least two mornings.

Chocolate in Doses

I make it a habit of copying pages from a magazine I like, rather than tearing out the pages. Certainly not everyone does this. If it's recipes I'm after, often they are online. Like this one. I tore out the page anyway. They are really chocolatey, and predominantly chocolate chips. I love the walnuts since I often need a foil for my chocolate. The first day, they were too rich for me; the second day I could take it. Then, they were gone thanks to a pile of gift bags. I must caution you against being a reducer, reuser, recycler with your parchment for this. Crumbs stick to the parchment producing a tiny burn on the bottom of the next batches. Regardless . . . .

Pretty Books in the Sun

I thought I would be very bold and recommend some books for summer. They are books both for the armchair reader and the traveler.

Italian Villas and Their Gardens by Edith Wharton with pictures by Maxfield Parrish
West with the Night by Beryl Markham
Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh
The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
Anything by E.M. Forster, E.B. White, and James Thurber

What reading do you recommend?

Footfall: Retracing My Steps

This morning I donned old flannel shorts, a half clean tee, and walking sandals. Taking my journal and a camera, I went down to the beach.



My camera is back after leaving it for dead the second time this year. At a cooking club evening on Cinco de Mayo. Theme: you guess. Martita quickly told me to make chilequilas which she demonstrated in her home. I did make them. Martha's are better, but is that news? I am the type of person who walks in the house with sand on her feet.



The hostess of the cooking club made cupcakes . . . her claim. I met her for the first time that evening in an overwhelming, amazing scene. So many dishes, most people I didn't know, and cupcakes by the name of Vera Cruz. Described by the creator as a sweet corn and cilantro cupcake with a hot pepper mousse and an avocado buttercream, garnished with a lime wedge and red salt crystals. For the numerous tastes and multiple ingredients, it worked. Each part stood alone. I enjoyed squeezing a lime wedge over the whole.

Another highlight of the evening was a warm casserole of flan put forth by a nice girl who had never eaten or made flan. It was delicious warm. I think I will always eat it thusly in future. Because we were cautioned not to bring dessert, imagine 20 savory dishes. A standout being cheese-topped guacamole. The title sounds gross and un-American to me too. I need to tell you it was a warm bath and a blanket by the fire is contentment. And I ate it lukewarm. The cook used real queso oaxaca which I would put forth as a must if you're attempting this. My friend G and I will probably not attend the cooking club again as it was so much to take in. It was a one-in-a-grand-while experience but simplicity is a good middle name.

Steamy Potatoes: A Departure

We held our picnic at Fletcher Cove, the only child in attendence being Baby A. Everyone brought their own "sandwich" and we all brought something to share. K had slipped her creation into a brown wax sandwich bag. Nicely crinkled, folded over at the top. I love waxed bags. Someday I'll get some and store candies and cookies and sandwiches in them. We also enjoyed a fine cheese thanks to a gift from another friend K. Caña de Cabra. It is a Spanish goat cheese, in a sliced round. The rind was a tree in shadow. A slice of bûche de Noël from the middle of the log, a grainy gelatin print. M made pesto and brought bread for dipping. I tried a new potato salad recipe in the vein of the picnic. After reading Diary of a French Herb Garden, I have had bay leaves on the mind. This salad smells like bay, rosemary, vinegar. I used a mediocre balsamic. If you have the sherry vinegar, I would suggest this first.

Potato Salad with Rosemary and Capers
Salade de Pommes de Terre aux Câpres et au Romarin
Serves 8

From The Provence Cookbook by Patricia Wells

2 lbs small yellow-fleshed potatoes, scrubbed but not peeled
1 fresh or dry bay leaf
1 t coarse sea salt
1 t extra-virgin olive oil

The Dressing
4 T extra-virgin olive oil
1 onion, peeled, halved lengthwise, and very thinly sliced
Fine sea salt
2 T best-quality sherry vinegar (or substitute balsamic vinegar)
2 T capers in vinegar, drained
3 T finely chopped fresh rosemary leaves

Place the potatoes in a large pot. Add the bay leaf, sea salt, oil, and several tablespoons of cold water. Cover and cook over the lowest possible heat, turning from time to time, until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork and browned in patches, about 25 minutes.

While the potatoes are cooking, prepare the dressing: In a small saucepan, combine 1 T of the olive oil, the onion, and a pinch of salt, and sweat—cook, covered, over low heat until soft but not browned—for about 3 minutes. Transfer to a large mixing bowl. Add the remaining olive oil, the vinegar, capers, and 2 T of the rosemary. Toss to blend.

Once the potatoes are cooked, drain them. As soon as they are cool enough to handle (ha . . . love this line), peel them and cut into thin slices, tossing each slice directly into the warm dressing. Toss to thoroughly coat the potatoes with the dressing. Add the remaining tablespoon of rosemary and toss again. Taste for seasoning. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Where Was the Cake?

My friend K was in town this week and she is very good at cakes. In fact, I like to cook for her. I only got the chance once and it was unexpected she was eating with us since she was conducting a month-long juice-milk diet. That's right. Fresh veg juice and whole raw milk. All you can drink. But nothing to eat. Had I known she had stopped her regime the night before our dinner, I would have made Burnt Almond Torte from Greyston Bakery Cookbook. It is a recipe I have been itching to create. As it was, we enjoyed fish, fruit, and fennel salad and griddled goat cheese with spicy olives. I am a big fan of toasts. The dessert was not exciting but I am just now remembering I have Fleur de Sel Caramel Haagen-Dazs in the freezer. I had completely forgotten. Pardon me for leaving now, I am so busy . . . .

A Tide Turned

Thanks to a bittersweet chocolate-walnut meringue kiss, I have officially expanded my repertoire. I was a fast milk chocolate gal. Dark chocolate make me swoon (in a bad way), sometimes resulting in headache, or wooziness. It was so rich. Milk chocolate was food, not dessert. I clommed onto the Green & Black's Milk Chocolate bar and kept watch for its sale times at Henry's. I have a bar of it sitting in my fruit basket. To make the meringues, I bought the 70 percent Dark Chocolate. One chops it small for the meringues and then sprinkles more walnuts and chocolate over to serve. I started eating the small chocolate detritus after the meringues were gone. Now, I can eat it in moderation; it is lovely, fruity, a friendly dark.

I also took their online personality test and they tell me I am 70 percent dark: You are a solid individual who is well loved. You may be quite rich but you’re always in balance and never bitter. You are devoted to others and like to satisfy their needs whether it’s friends, a significant other or a favorite pet. Loyal, intuitive and caring, you always enrich the world around you. Your mantra: "Fore!"

My match is Espresso with whom I could conquer the world.

Cookie Sunday

One of the best humans, my friend S, has a birthday today. She makes a new cookie each Sunday for her clan. She is one who celebrates the joy of cooking. Haha. Her small daughter has a strand of real pearls. Her son has brightened us all his years. Her husband is impressive and good. Her extended family feels like my extended family. I could go on. I told a common relative recently, "who doesn't love s?" She is everyone's ideal.

I made this recipe today and thought I'd post it here since it is cookie Sunday in some homes.

Chocolate Chip Cookies with Toasted Almonds
from The Sweet Melissa Baking Book
Makes 24 cookies

1/2 C whole natural almonds, toasted
10 T unsalted butter, softened
1/2 C granulated sugar
1/2 C firmly packed light brown sugar
1/2 t pure vanilla extract
1 large egg
1 2/3 C all-purpose flour
3/4 t baking soda
1/4 t salt
8 ounces best-quality semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped into 1/4- to 1/2-inch chunks

Position a rack in the center of your oven. Preheat the oven to 350F. Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.

1. Roughly chop the almonds into large pieces.
2. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar, and vanilla until fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the egg and beat for another minute.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt.
4. With the mixer on low speed, add the flour mixture in three batches, mixing until no flour is visible after each addition. Scrape down the sides of the bowl.
5. Remove the bowl from the mixer. Stir in the almonds and chocolate. Refrigerate the dough until firm, about 1 hour. (If you're really impatient or hungry, spread out the dough on a tray or cookie sheet, lay a sheet of plastic wrap flush against the surface of the dough, and freeze so it chills up fast.)
6. Once the dough is chilled, turn it out onto a clean work surface and divide it in half. Roll each half into a log about 12 inches long. Refrigerate the logs for at least 30 minutes before slicing. (At this point, you can wrap the logs tightly in plastic wrap and then aluminum foil and freeze for up to 1 month.)
7. Cut the logs into 1-inch slices, and place them about 1 1/2 inches apart on each cookie sheet. Bake for 13 to 14 minutes, or until the centers no longer have a glossy look of raw dough. They should be chewy, so do not overbake.

The cookies can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days. For longer storage, refrigerate in an airtight container for up to 5 days, or freeze for up to 3 weeks. Do not uncover before defrosting.

Summer Reading in the Treehouse

This summer when I move to an island to live in a treehouse with shuttered paneless windows and door and a plentiful garden below and the sound of water, I will take two books to read for pleasure. The first is Villette by Charlotte Bronte at 656 pages. I am not acquainted with a soul who has read Villette but according to amazon, some have. It is especially delicious since I know nothing about it.

The second tome will be Middlemarch by George Eliot at 912 pages. I will probably read Villette first, and this second. I know I will enjoy the Eliot. It is some people's favorite book, ever.

I am currently in possession of two lent books from friends: Quentins by Maeve Binchy (who doesn't love to say her name) and Gertrude and Claudius by John Updike. My two library books are An Italian Education by Tim Parks (started last night) and Sing Them Home by Stephanie Kallos (may not get to by the time it's due and it's on hold so I can't renew). It was 90ish at the coast yesterday which is probably why I am making a summer reading list. What's on yours?

One Spice, Two Spice

This pattern is called Spice Cake. I worked on it at Christmas time and it was machine quilted during the early months of the year. It is twin size so it will remain folded for the time being. Just a few weeks ago, I visited my family and regained the quilt, finishing the binding the final night of my visit with my mother on one side, me on the other with legs sweating, Brian sitting in a chair, all watching The Boy in Striped Pajamas.

I can't comment thoroughly on the movie since my head was bent in concentration, but Patti did not embrace the ending. Brian had left early and missed the ending. I was fine with the ending, or as fine as one should be.

For snack at a presidency meeting today, I brought green beans, carrots, and celery to serve with this dip. I embraced making it because I didn't need to buy fresh herbs. I did grind the cardamom in my mortar and pestle. It could have been much finer. I have yet to reach my potential with the mortar and pestle.

Adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman.

White Bean Dip
Makes at least 8 servings

Combine 2 cups drained white beans with 1/4 C olive oil, 1 small clove garlic, peeled, salt, pepper, 2 t ground cumin, 1/2 t ground cinnamon, 1/2 t ground cardamom, and 1/2 t ground or peeled and minced fresh ginger in the container of a food processor and whirl; add water as needed to make a smooth puree (I don't know how I missed this last step; my puree was muddy and earthy). Taste and add more garlic, salt, or cumin as needed. Serve, drizzled with a little olive oil and sprinkled with a bit of cumin.

Milk and Eggs

I spent Easter with Jon and Judy. It was terrific—relaxed, festive, meaningful, and religious. I turned pages for Judy as she accompanied the choir. We were dressed in coral and white, a surprise to both. I sat at the low end of the piano, a few inches from the singers. I told them how good they sounded. There is something special about sitting so close to a choir that you really are able to hear individual voices. I came home with Easter treats, three colored hard-boiled eggs, an Easter lily, and a flowered bud vase. Not to mention how lovely a gift I took away of the time together. They are like no other people in so many ways. Open doors and open arms. We ate lamb with mint jelly, mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls (which Jon took credit for baking at Costco), and angel pie. I stopped short when she brought out the Lenox Peeps salt and pepper shaker set. In the kitchen, Judy finally let me help a little. We both unloaded the dishwasher and I took out a metal baking cup measure. It is ancient. She insisted I drink milk from it as metal makes the milk really cold. I did.

Brownies and Blondies

I have previously published my preferred brownie recipe. In fact, I did not like brownies before trying it. I grew up on boxed brownies and did not enjoy the overly sweet chemical taste, nor the abnormal top shine. I see these sad factors with clarity now that I have tried several brownie recipes outside the box, and have not met one that is not a welcome visitor.

Last weekend at home, we tried this one. I had imported a modest Zip-loc of Maldon in hopes we would have hungry mouths to feed. They lived up to the description, fudgey and salty.

My all-time favorite brownie is long on yum and short on flour. In fact, those who know say the less flour the better in a brownie. I do put in the nuts. I love nuts. I can't think of what a nut doesn't improve. My own mother doesn't eat sweets unless they are "chocolate and nuts." I have a more expanded palette and embrace anything "that is good." I once served these to someone who told me she didn't like brownies. I said, me neither. And, we both ate at least two. She has probably not said that since.

My conversation this morning touched on blondies which we all agreed were not brownies. I called them cookie bars. I love bars but do not liken them to brownies.