Bake Sale for Japan

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

March 29, 2011

Like many, I found it difficult to imagine how I could help after the earthquake in Japan. And it felt close. My husband travels frequently to Japan on business (he was supposed to fly through Tokyo the day after the quake. He has colleagues there, we have friends there.

Then I read Ruth Reichl’s post, ‘Why Food Matters’, written in response to a twitter upset (it was all resolved very civilly, on both sides).

She writes: “But in the face of ongoing disaster, it is also our moral responsibility to appreciate what we have. That is why cooking good food for the people that I love is so important to me; in a world filled with no, it is a big yes.” And I agree with her.

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Thanksgiving Rehash

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

November 30, 2009

By now everyone’s turkey is probably gone. You’ve eaten your turkey potpie or turkey hash. We had ours, of a sort, last night--a big pancake of mashed potatoes mixed with browned onions, gravy, and turkey, browned ‘til bored. The cook that is. Well, until the cook is bored, not browned. Anyway. Hopefully your turkey carcass is already simmering on the stovetop. But before we get pushed into the next holiday, I wanted to linger a little bit longer over Thanksgiving.

With both my daughters in Europe this year, ours was a small affair, just the four of us (myself, husband, son, and niece). I guess I’m a traditionalist at Thanksgiving. For me it’s not so much because I can’t imagine Thanksgiving without exactly this stuffing and that pie. It’s just that I really like the meal, and it’s the only time I have it. I like its simplicity but generosity (what other meal can you think of with all that starch!). I like the fact that it takes lots of time to prepare, but much can be done ahead. I like the way the cranberry relishes and pickled beets sparkle like jewels on the table, and, inevitably, add their mark to the tablecloth. And I like the way that, in the end, even if the turkey is a little dry, or the brussel sprouts are a little overdone, it’s still Thanksgiving. Nothing ever changes that.

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I’ll Never Stop Going Back to Gourmet for Seconds

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

October 5, 2009

Hearing about the end of Gourmet Magazine is not a good way to start the week. It feels a little bit like being kicked in the stomach; I was surprised to feel the tears welling (though, I have to admit, it shouldn’t be a surprise…I’m a big crier).

There’s the obvious: Gourmet magazine has been, in my life, a constant. I used to sit in front of the shelves of old copies my mother owned (I think they went back to before she was married), in the back room of our house. They were housed in those cardboard magazine holders, each one holding a year of issues—or more (from those days with fewer advertisements—ironic, no?).

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Can She Bake a Cherry Pie?

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

July 7, 2009

That is the question. I brought some sour cherries home from the market and announced my intention to bake a pie. My daughter, who’s home from college for a month, asked if she could help. “I need to learn how to make pies.”

Funny. Because just a few months ago my mother was visiting. And when she came, I told her I wanted to make pies with her--so I could learn, for once and for all, how to make a decent pie. Fact is, it makes a lot more sense for me to have faith in my mother’s pie-baking acumen than it does for my daughter to hope to learn at my knee!

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Buttermilk Soup

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

May 1, 2009

‘Buttermilk soup’ may not stir up a mouthwatering image for many. How about Kærnemælk Koldskaal? Still nothing? Oh well. In our house, it’s one of the dishes that we eat every year, but not year-round. Buttermilk Soup is something my family always looks forward to welcoming back in the spring.

The soup is made with nothing but buttermilk, eggs, sugar, vanilla, and lemon (rind and juice). Whipped to a froth, it’s chilled until suppertime, when you top it with butter-and-sugar-enriched oats.

The oat topping is made by melting butter (a lot), adding sugar (a fair amount) and then toasting oats in it. Kind of like granola. But you’d be pushing it to consider it a breakfast (though your kids might try to convince you).

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Our Daily Bread

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

April 21, 2009

I don’t really need to be reminded how important bread is. For me, it’s a mainstay—probably the last food I’d give up. I also realize how precious it is; lately I’ve even taken to wiping the crumbs off the bread board and putting them in a bag in the freezer, saving them for a future rhubarb betty and to sprinkle on pasta.

I’m particularly lucky, since I live in Portland, home to a few fine bakeries. My favorite is Ken’s Artisan Bakery, where a few times a week I go for my 1.5 kg country brown loaf. This morning I walked up to find they were closed. They’d had a fire last night—luckily, a passerby (at 2 AM!) alerted the firefighters, and more serious damage was averted—apparently it was close to getting into the rafters, which would have been disastrous. Ken’s hopes to be selling bread again by the end of the week, maybe pastries as soon as this afternoon.

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You say Arugula, I say Rocket

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

March 10, 2009

Somewhere along the way, arugula got a nasty reputation. If you search for arugula on wikipedia, you get directed to the entry for Eruca Sativa. There you’ll see that it’s a member of the Brassicaceae family, along with other humble vegetables like cauliflower, broccoli, and turnips.

Why did eating arugula become the kind of thing that could get you branded as an elitist? When did it become necessary for political candidates to think twice before ordering arugula off a menu? It’s hard to imagine such a to-do over a leafy green. I mean, how can a plant so easy to grow (even a non-green-thumb like myself has trouble keeping up with its production) be elite? Surely no one would consider gathering dandelion greens from the front yard (or an abandoned lot) to be privileged—so what’s wrong with arugula?

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Food #9--Fruitcake.

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

February 26, 2009

I love fruitcake. Well, good fruitcake. I absolutely don’t understand how it inspires such hatred. Dried fruit, nuts, bourbon. Aren’t those the 3 basic food groups?

When I was an exchange student living in Denmark, lonely at Christmas, my aunt sent me one. Not the really good kind--this was a very blond one, not alcohol soaked, and little to no cake surrounding the nuts. But I was homesick! I opened the box with my host family. My host sister (who’d lived in the US the year before) immediately started talking about how disgusting, dreadful, and repulsive fruitcake is. The family agreed it sounded awful.

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Baking mishaps--Food #8

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

February 20, 2009

My earliest baking memory is of making peanut butter cookies with my friend, Cathy. The recipe called for a dash of salt. We were a little unsure how much a dash was. Turns out a dash is less than either of us imagined.

My earliest baking experience was a bit of a failure. I like clearly written recipes now, and tend to follow them carefully.

Yogurt--Food #8

From Giovanna’s Trifles at Culinate by Giovanna Zivny

February 17, 2009

Caroline's post about making yogurt reminded me of this revelation: When I was 15 I spent a summer in Europe with my best friend. I know. Lucky. Besides learning to like beer, I fell in love with French yogurt.

It was creamy and somehow less tangy than most of the plain yogurt available back in the states in 1978. That is, when you could even get plain yogurt--more often it was flavored with gloppy fruit at the bottom. My parents had told me a story before about a friend who smuggled sausages back into the states under his hat, and I was inspired. The night before I was to fly home, I carefully washed out a Noxema jar, and filled it with yogurt to use as a starter when I got back home.

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