I often think that a simple fruit desert is my very favorite, and this rustic apple tart is high on that list. I'm not sure that this photograph really does it justice, however, since the whole point is that it's homemade, this certainly looks the part. Oh, if you could just smell it, you'd know that this is a scrumptuous treat that will end any meal on a splendidly high note. Perhaps part of the reason I like it so much, is the anticipation. I have to plan to make it, for at least a couple of days, because it is made with creme fraiche, for which I am way too cheap to pay the exorbitant asking price in the local gourmet market. You see, not normally known to economize when it comes to ingredients, I made the mistake of discovering just how easy creme fraiche is to make, and therefore can't bring myself to buy it anymore. Instead, when I get the wild hare to make this tart, I buy some preferably whole milk buttermilk and some whipping cream. When I get home, I put a couple of tablespoons of the buttermilk into a glass bowl with a couple of cups of cream in it, stir it gently and pop it into my oven set to "proof". Like alchemy, 24 hours later I have a great big bowl of creme frache, which, let me just say, is a pretty magical and empowering thing to know you can do.
Read moreButternut Squash Panade
Time for some Kismet cooking. As you doubtless know by now, there's almost nothing I like so much as ingredients coming my way through seeming coincidence. In figuring out what to do with them, I know I'm on the right track when I having a niggling feeling of vaguely remembering something. That's where my colossal book of clipped recipes comes in. It drives Jeff bonkers, because it's such an enormous overstuffed notebook that inevitably seems to be perched right in his way. By now he's surely learned that any criticism of my notebook, boldly entitled "Clare" on its spine, is rife with peril. I guess its title shows that I view it as an extension of myself, and dishing it is akin to answering "yes" when I ask him if I look fat in my new red dress. In other words, its someplace he doesn't want to go. My trusty notebook sent out a virtual vibration recently when my sweet next-door neighbor appeared bearing the last butternut squash from her garden. In looking around at my stash, nestled amongst my usual hoard, was a loaf of sourdough bread that had somehow been left behind in its rotation and was surely past its prime. I also had an abundance of Fontina left over from my stellar mushroom lasagna (more on that later). That was enough to cause that familiar niggling sensation and send me straight to "Clare". What was that recipe? Well, it was for panade and I found two--one from the New York Times, and a more recent one from the Wall Street Journal.
Read moreCauliflower and Stilton Soup
On Friday night, I was driving home from a very good talk by Ben Campbell at the library and listening to my radio, when it suddenly started to send out shock waves of Noel into the unseasonably warm night air. With that familiar refrain, I suddenly realized that it was Twelfth Night. Because, as I've already alluded, I'm a creature of idiosyncratic culinary habits tied to all sorts of things, certainly including but not limited to the ecclesiastical calendar, I realized with delight that I'd therefore be producing the beloved cauliflower and Stilton soup over the weekend, for around here, Twelfth Night and Stilton soup go hand in hand. It all goes back to my Christmas obsession with Stilton. I grew up with a creamy round of Stilton being an integral part of the fabric of the holidays as, I imagine, it is in most English households. Even before I was old enough to love the musty blue cheese myself, I loved all of the accoutrements that it brought with it. The monogrammed Stilton "shovel" used to dig the green-veined cheese from the very heart of the round, the little glasses of port that accompanied it, the table water biscuits, the walnuts and the old familiar nut cracker, etched with complicated squiggles, that added the sound of a nice resounding crunch to the festivities.
Read moreOld-Fashioned Sausage Gravy and Biscuits
How in the world did that happen? Suffice it to say, in a happy blur of family, friends and food, and oh my goodness, such food! Even for me, I have to say, I spent rather a lot of time in the kitchen, being productive, yes; however, it seems to have rather kept me away from my trusty computer and letting you all in on the festivities. This is a shot of my kitchen a few days before Christmas when I was thick in the throes of cookie-dom. As you can see, it wasn't pretty, but take it from me, it sure was fun. Let me just say, here and now, I'm not into "resolutions." I guess it's the rebel in me that makes me immediately shy away from whatever it was that I had the best intentions of doing and instead, do just the opposite. That being the case, I "intend" to blog more regularly in the coming year, and I think may circle back to some of the great things that happened in my kitchen over a prolonged Christmas cooking-fest. The good news is that I took pictures and I most likely can figure out whatever it was that I did when I did it.
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