morsels & sauces

There are certainly so many poems by Emily Dickinson to celebrate, but there's one that just won't get out my head: So there you go. It's winter. It's excruciating. Sometimes the light slants just the right way in winter and, well, you start to contemplate just what it is that will make us stand with the landscape and the shadows and, simply, listen. Even if what we hear or see is just for a moment. Like a held breath. Like a slant of light. And then it goes.  2016 has been that kind of year, huh? Well, this post took a turn I was not expecting. That's pretty much what we get with Emily. An opening line that draws us in and an ending line that punches us in the gut. But I do think she was a little more lighthearted than this. Or at least she was from time to time.  And her black cake suggests that girlfriend knew her way around the kitchen. And there may have even been some real joy there. Let's take a ...

I got really inspired by the fine work being done by Jessica Merchant over there at  How Sweet It Is . Especially when that fine work involves bourbon or, in my case, whiskey. You see, she recently infused bourbon three ways : Apple Pie, Chai Spice, and Chocolate Orange. I made some major changes, swapped out bourbon, and stepped away from the Chocolate Orange. But in the end, I made three wonderful infused whiskeys, and I think you should, too.   Holiday season can be your excuse. But we both know you don't really need one, do you?  I didn't. We don't get autumn until late in Northern California. Isn't this fabulous? Okay, let me talk you through each one of these gems and then propose some possibilities for next steps.  Besides drink them immediately. Let's start with the recipes first, and then let's talk about what to do with them. 1.  Decide which one to make. Or... just make all three: Apple Pie Infused Whiskey Ingredients :...

Things I Love: cookbooks and cookbooks with menus planned in them .   This new cookbo ok from Ithai Schori (a photographer who has worked in professional kitchens (and apparent ly wrote his senior thesis on the rhetoric of the Food Network )) and Chris Taylor (the bassist for Grizzly Bear ) fulfills that great love I have of p re-planned menus. I am always curious how a cook composes a meal fro m coc ktails to dessert coffee . And boy, Schori and Taylor can do it, and they do it with a casual, inviting flair . Arranged by seasons , which I a nd my CSA box also enjoy, this cookbook presents twenty different dinner menus, often with an appetizer, a protein ma in, a vegetable side dish or a s ala d and a d essert. Many menus offer cocktail recipes and all have accompanying wine suggestions. That said, our authors encourage us to not follow any of the menus, nor any of the recipes for the matter, but to mix and match, experi ment and im provise. The cookbook ...

Adapted from Cookbook #53: Baking In America   (2002) Recipe:  Irish Whiskey Fruitcake with Spiced Walnuts and Pecans "It's always the same: a morning arrives in November, and my friend, as though officially inaugurating the Christmas time of year that exhilarates her imagination and fuels the blaze of her heart, announces: 'It's fruitcake weather! Fetch our buggy. Help me find my hat.'"--Truman Capote, A Christmas Memory While this is my last entry for 2010, I will hold off on the musings and reflections until the first week of 2011.  In the mean time, it's fruitcake weather, no matter where you are. Fruitcake is one of those recipes that gets a bad rap.  Yes, it's heavy.  Yes, it is chock-full of nuts and fruit.  Yes, it has a shelf life longer than some small electronics.  But people, it's made with whiskey. It is traditional to serve this loaf around the holidays, and I thought it a perfect way to end the year. Known for its longe...

Adapted from Cookbook #40.5:  The Country Cooking of Ireland (2009) Recipe: Liver in Whiskey Cream Sauce Okay, I said I would make this.  The whole point of beginning this blog was to get me out of my comfort zone and to use (really use!) the cookbooks that I own.  It was meant to inspire me to cook again, to try something new. When I bought this cookbook, I never knew it would lead to this:  Liver.  Onions.  Whiskey.  This cookbook proudly has an entire chapter devoted to offal, the subtitle of which is "The Irish Touch."  Isn't that fabulous? The book admits that many Americans do not eat offal, in part because we no longer have to eat it (McDonald's has made short order of that).  Thus we discard the tongue, the liver, the kidneys, or we grind them up into sausages so we don't have to confront what they truly are.  This chapter suggests we might do well to change our ways.  We're missing ...