deep winter and a bright orange cure

It's February, and it's cold. It's been cold for months. It's also dark.

I love winter, I really do. In August, when it's 95 and humid, I dream of hibernating in a hoodie, under a blanket with a book and a hot toddy, during a snow storm. Bourbon and hoodies make for a dreamboat of an evening.

However, by February, getting through the long northern Vermont winters can be hard, even with all the hot toddies in the world. Cabin fever sets in and I feel itchy for movement, bike rides, and swimming. I find that Vitamin D supplements help. Sunshine in a capsule. Getting outside on a sunny afternoon also helps, no matter how cold it is. Get me in the woods and breathe in some cold woodsy air. All my grumbling disappears. I just need to be smacked in the face with how beautiful my home is.

And juice. Because juice is really what I think has been keeping me a (mostly) happy camper this winter. Everyone, their best friend, and their mother, is juice happy lately. And for good reason! The world is just shades of grey and beige... the sky, the ground, and my food. And not those shades of grey, ahem. All I want is fresh berries and giant salads full of color and crispness. Roasted root vegetables be damned. However, have I mentioned that I live in Vermont? And that the ground is frozen? Right now, berries and red peppers taste mostly like water and are crazy expensive. Enter, juicing. Juice is full of raw fruits and vegetables. And it's full of color. Hello, summertime in a glass!

When I first started making juices last winter I followed strict recipes. It helped me figure out what produce and proportions combine well. Now, I just throw whatever I have languishing from my CSA in a juicer and cross my fingers. If you want a great book of juice recipes, get your hands on the Blueprint Cleanse. Ignore the subtitle, it's annoying. The cleanse itself is great, if you're into that kind of thing. I've done it a couple of times, and I love it. It's not for everyone, though. But, throwing a random juice into your week is for everyone (for realz), so let's drink some carrots! 

My favorite juice lately has been Carrot Orange Ginger. It's spicy. It's bright orange. It feels like I'm drinking straight health. I can imagine the flu just running away from my body. Also, it's delicious. You'll need two to three carrots, half a lemon, one orange, and about an inch of ginger. Don't peel the carrots - there's good stuff for you in that skin! Do make sure to peel the citrus of the skin and pith. Leaving those on would make your juice bitter. No one wants that. I find all juices improve with a bit of lemon or lime. They help balance out the sweetness of something like a carrot and the greenness of something like parsley or kale. The ginger provides a little kick. Bam!

Chop up all your ingredients so they'll fit into your juicer. Juice 'em up. If you have a super cheap juicer like me, you'll have to run it through at least twice. Serve it up. Drink it down. Pat yourself on the back for eating your vegetables like your mother told you to. You're doing good things for yourself by drinking something this orange. In fact, it totally cancels out that cold piece of leftover pizza you just ate while making the juice. Oops. Now, get outside and play in the snow.

Carrot Orange Ginger Juice

makes about 8oz

Ingredients:

2-3 carrots

1 juice orange, peeled

1/2 lemon, peeled
1 inch ginger

Chop it all up to fit in your juicer. Run it through your juicer one or two times until the pulp feels dry to the touch. Serve immediately.

...cards against humanity and cocktails with friends from out of town also help de-funkify a deep winter funk, because drinking carrots is not what saturday nights are made for.

a (nearly) perfect pie crust

The summer of 2011 was the Summer of Pie in my kitchen. I was searching for the perfect pie dough recipe. Not one to tackle any kind of project half-heartedly, I vowed to not bake anything except for pie for the entire summer. Seriously. I'm ridiculous. I discovered my favorite pie dough recipe by June, but rather than tinker with something good for the rest of the season, I just stuck with it.

The golden ticket of a recipe came from a blog called Good Egg Seattle. Its author, Kate Lebo, has published a pie zine called A Commonplace Book of Pie and recently launched a Pie School! Her recipe isn't available online anymore, so I'm thankful it's forever imprinted in my brain. I've followed her recipe and had it turn out so many different ways, that I'm convinced there is no perfect pie dough recipe. Pie dough is affected by the temperature of the room, the humidity, how handsy you get with the dough, and what you use to mix in the fat. Instead, a recipe gives you the foundation, the rest is dependent on the day and if you feel too lazy (or are running too late) to mix in the butter with your fingers.

Let's make stacks of pie dough! 

You can make pie dough in a food processor, or in a bowl with a pastry cutter or your hands. I prefer to use my hands, but sometimes that just feels like too much work. Gather up your ingredients, keeping the butter, shortening, and water in the freezer until you need them.  You want these cold cold cold. Speaking of butter: get the good stuff. It's worth the price. Higher quality butter has a higher fat content, which helps the dough hold together and handle better.

Nearly Perfect Pie Crust

makes one 8 or 9 inch double crust 

adapted from Kate Lebo

Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups all purpose flour

1 T sugar

1 t salt

12 T unsalted butter, frozen

1/2 cup vegetable shortening, cold

1-3 T water

Slice your butter into tablespoons (or smaller, if mixing by hand) or grate on a box grater. Keep prepped butter and shortening in the freezer until called for. Fill a measuring cup with some water and a couple of ice cubes, and stash in the freezer as well. You want these ingredients cold. 

Mix together the flour, sugar, and salt in a food processor or bowl. Remove the butter and shortening from the freezer. If using a food processor, while running, drop in the butter and shortening a tablespoon at a time, mixing until the texture resembles cornmeal. If using your hands, mix in the butter and shortening a bit at a time until it's mostly mixed and you're left with a cornmeal-like texture with pea-sized chunks of butter. I find that rubbing the dough between my palms is the speediest technique. 

Remove the water from the freezer and add some a tablespoon at a time. Some days I don't need any water (in humidity ridden August) and some days I need three (in ice cold February). Most often, you'll want one or two tablespoons. If using a food processor, add water slowly until the dough turns into a ball. If using your hands, create a well in the middle of the dough, add one tablespoon and knead into the dough, adding more if need be. You want a dough that holds together, but isn't wet feeling. 

Divide the dough in half, form each half into a disc, wrap in plastic and pop them in the fridge while you prepare your filling. Remove the dough from the fridge a few minutes before you're ready to roll them out to warm slightly. On a floured surface, roll one disc out so that it is slightly larger than your pie plate. Gently transfer it to the pie plate; it should drape over the sides. Fill your pie with whatever deliciousness you fancy. Roll out the second disc, slightly smaller than the first. Gently transfer it to top the pie. Fold the edges of the top sheet under the bottom and crimp together. Use your fingers or a fork to indent the edges. With a sharp knife or adorable tiny cookie cutter, slice air vents into the top of the pie before baking. Generally, bake pie at 350 degrees on a cookie sheet on the middle rack for about 55 minutes, or until the filling is bubbling over the edges. Eat up while still warm, and finish off the rest, cold, for breakfast, the next morning.

Some pie baking pro-tips:

Keep that measuring cup of water handy when assembling your pie. If the dough rips, patch the tear with extra dough, and use a bit of water to glue it back together.

Roll the dough out on floured wax or parchment paper so you can simply pick up the paper and flip the dough onto the pie pan. 

Put foil or a silicone pie crust shield around the edge of the pie for the first 30 minutes of baking so the edge doesn't burn. 

on baking for money

I've been rolling the idea of opening a bakery of sorts around in the back of my busy little brain for quite some time. In fact, one of my brothers found my eighth grade yearbook recently and discovered that I proudly announced in said yearbook that when I grew up, I wanted to be a baker. Well, a month away from 29, I'm hardly a grown up, but I do spend a good chunk of my paycheck on butter and sugar.*

While I have the menu planned, the space decorated, the beer and bourbon list drafted, and the craft & cookbook library envisioned all up in my head... I'm not terribly sure I'd like it. I love the idea of it. But the day-to-day: getting up early in the morning, baking the same thing over and over again, not having days off, dealing with paperwork :: the stuff :: of a baking business doesn't sound totally appealing. When I was little I loved setting everything up to play. I built the lego houses, set up the dolls' tea party, bushwhacked the prickers to build a fort, and then moved on. I didn't like playing in the fort, pretending to have an actual tea party, or move my lego men around their house. I liked creating the vision I had in my head, but then I got bored. I'm afraid opening a bakery might be a lot like building a grown up fort. And, what if my goods aren't any good?  I know my friends and family love me and are kind, supportive people, so of course they say my cookies are the best. What about mean old strangers? Can they be wooed to part with their hard earned cash in exchange for a pie of my creation?

Well, the chance to test my dreams and my doubts has fallen into my lucky lap. From a casual conversation with a new friend has sprung the opportunity to bake for one of the great coffee shops downtown, Uncommon Grounds. Reliably busy, and with a pastry case full of diet-breaking-worthy treats from a slew of local bakers, it's my perfect test lab. About once every two weeks I bring in a batch of whatever they ask for. So far, there's been a "non-apple fruit pie", which resulted in a local cranberry pear ginger pie with a crumble top. There have also been two orders of my mini chocolate walnut pies. Baking a few times a month, out of my home, means I get to learn the dreaded 'stuff': costing out ingredients, pricing an order, creating an invoice, what the heck 'sole proprietor' means... as well as start to answer the all important "is this fun for me?" question without quitting my day job or investing any real money. 

Though I've only filled three orders, I've already learned a few lessons: I figured out what a sole proprietor is. In fact, I've just sent in the paperwork to become one. Calculating how much it costs to make a batch of cookies involves multiple spreadsheets and is actually really fun. It's hard to make money off of a single pie. You need to make many pies. Microsoft Word make some great invoice templates. I'm not so sure I like being told what to bake... I'm not not sure I like baking the same thing each time. I like the creativity of figuring out a great new recipe. But, perhaps most importantly, it feels pretty dang awesome to cash a check I earned baking pie while drinking wine with girlfriends on a weeknight.... and promptly spend it on butter, without any guilt. 

*the rest of that paycheck goes to beer and wine and cheese and chocolate. see what I mean about not being a grown up?

Breakfast for Dinner: CSA Hash & Eggs

Each winter I get the most rockin' CSA ever from the Intervale Food Hub. Not only is it chock full of amazing local produce from a long list of local farms, but it is also delivered to my office. Hello, lazy! Eating locally in the spring, summer, and fall is pretty easy - I'm a member of the best co-op of all time, Burlington is full of great farmers' markets, and I have a community garden plot around the corner from my apartment. However, winter is long, cold, dark, and snowy up here in Vermont, and the CSA helps me eat my weight in root vegetables and stay locally-focused when lettuce from California looks extra appealing.

Sometimes I'm not so great at working my way through all the veggies each week and last night I found myself with quite the backlog. I live with two other people who also happen to eat food that needs to be refrigerated, so when my beet stash started to take up most of the fridge, I figured it was time for an intervention. Enter, veggie hash and eggs.

The great thing about hash is that you can throw any variety of veggies, herbs, and cheese you have floundering in the back of your fridge into a skillet and it comes out delicious. It's sort of the "clean out the fridge soup" of breakfast. In my case I had purple potatoes, yukon potatoes, kale, a red onion, carrots, parsnips, beets, brussel sprouts, and a lone turnip. Really, though, you could put anything in there. Same goes for herbs. I have some thyme and rosemary growing in a windowsill, so I threw some of that in there. Dill or basil would be equally lovely.

Gather up your vegetables and herbs, 2-4 eggs, and some cheese. I used a mixture of cheddar and a hard parmesan-like cheese that was un-labeled and thus unidentified. Chop up the veggies into any size you'd like; I shredded the beets and diced up everything else. Then we boil up the starchy vegetables, cook everything in a skillet until they're somehow melty and crispy all at once, crack a few eggs into the mixture, melt some cheese on top, douse the whole thing in hot sauce, pour a beer, turn on an episode of "30 Rock" and call it a night. Mondays are hard and Liz Lemon and breakfast for dinner are here to make it easier.


CSA Hash & Eggs 
a.k.a clean out the dang fridge!
makes 4 servings
adapted from Everybody Likes Sandwiches

Ingredients:
4 potatoes (any potato will do), diced
2 medium carrots, chopped into small coins
2 medium parsnips, chopped into small coins
1 turnip, diced
2 beets, shredded
1 large handful brussel sprouts, chopped in half
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 red onion, diced
1 handful kale
1-2 teaspoon herbs, minced (I went with rosemary and thyme)
4 large eggs
grated cheese (any kind that will melt well, like cheddar or mozzarella)

In a medium sized pot, bring water to boil and add in potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and turnips (any of your harder, starchy vegetables). Let simmer for about 10 minutes, or until the vegetables are just tender. Drain and set aside.

While those vegetables are boiling, in a large skillet, heat oil and add onion and brussel sprouts (any remaining vegetables except shredded ones or greens). Stir around until the onion is soft, about 5 minutes. Add beets, kale, and herbs (any remaining vegetables and herbs) and stir to let everything get a bit toasty, about 2 minutes. Stir in the boiled vegetables, and cook until things get slightly golden. Make shallow wells in the vegetables (you shouldn't see the pan) and crack in the eggs. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cover and let sit until the egg whites are mostly cooked, about 3-5 minutes. Sprinkle with grated cheese, cover, and let sit until the cheese is melted, about 1 minute. Top with fresh herbs and hot sauce. Serve immediately.

sitting in

I find myself talking about my need to "sit in" things a lot lately. Sitting in my life in Burlington. Sitting in my job. Sitting in the changes that are out of my control. I'm feeling the need to just be. I rarely just sit. More often, I'm working on eight projects at once, not giving myself enough time for any of them, and planning for the next project. But, increasingly, I want to just slow all of that down and sit with the present. The holidays are an especially difficult time to just sit. There is not much more that I love in the world than Thanksgiving and Christmas. I love the hustle and bustle, the parties, the baking and gift crafting, the glitter, the snow. The whole world is busy, but with celebration instead of work. It's magical. Within the flurry, though, I'm trying to find the space to just sit in this month and soak it all in.

The Sunday after Thanksgiving, I visited my brother, Chris, in search of some quiet time in the woods before heading back to the "big" city. With his (extremely bouncy) puppy, Suzie, we set off behind his cabin. All the leaves are down. There's no snow yet. Stick Season. I love this time of year. Everything is so quiet and simple. There aren't any bright colors raising their hands in front of you like an anxious 5th grader vying for your attention. You're allowed to focus on the details and textures of the muted trees, the fallen leaves, the rocks.

The next morning I woke up in Burlington to our first snow.

Baking bread forces you to slow down. Dough needs attention every couple of hours, and it takes all day. You can't let your day fly by unnoticed and realize at dinner that you forgot to eat breakfast.

I'm going to sit down smack in the middle of all this. Take that, holidays.

.... I also gave my brother a quick knitting lesson before hitting the road. He's knitting blankets for shelter dogs... for realz. Get in line, ladies. This boy will plant you a garden, cook you dinner, and knit your pet a snuggie.

wobbly knees

I don't have a fear of heights. In fact, despite the clammy hands and thumping heart, I love the climb up. I love standing at the edge and looking down. It's the jumping I hate. I can climb a tree any day; just don't ask me to jump off it into a lake. But, with a deep breath, scrunched shut eyes, and wobbly knees, I'm jumping into my own little space on the internet. 

I'm not quite sure about all that I'll put here. I can guarantee there will be baked goods, some epic dinners, some equally epic list making with sharpies, popsicle stick style jokes (as in G rated and bad, people), and some photos. It will most certainly be awkward and embarrassing to look back at some day, like finding your middle school diary filled with angsty love and bubble letters.  I'm sure I'll regret all the hazy Instagram filters. I'm probably going to need to re-learn how to use photoshop.

Even still, time to take a deep breath, bend those wobbly knees, and jump on in.