Just Peachy

Jackie had just returned from nearly three weeks away when she texted me --“Want to hang out and cook something today?” It was a muggy Monday, and I was dragging a bit, still hoping to come up with something to do with the kids. “Sure,” I said, “but there’s a catch -- we have to use peaches since I have pounds and pounds of them from my CSA.”

Since we often bake together, we decided to make chunky peach muffins. Jackie was thrilled to have breakfast treats to bring on her weekend away to the beach and I was happy to use up my bounty of peaches, packing my freezer with breakfast foods for early morning school days. So, last Monday, while the kids played, we baked away. Sweet scents filled the house, luring kids to the kitchen for tastes. They gobbled up many bite-sized muffins, leaving only crumbs (which I wasn’t pleased to find later on throughout the house).

If you’re looking for something sweet do before the school year gets into full swing, put the farm fresh peaches (which are quite abundant this year!) to good use and spend some quality time with a friend.

Peach Muffins
Makes approximately 26 muffins

2 ½ cups peeled and diced peaches (about 6 peaches)
4 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup dark brown sugar
1 cup white sugar
3 cups unbleached flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 ½ teaspoons baking soda
½ cup canola oil
¼ cup light cream (or half and half or milk)
1/8 cup course sugar to sprinkle on top

Pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees. Spray muffin tins with baking spray or line pan with baking cups.

Using an electric mixer, in a large bowl beat together the eggs, vanilla extract and sugars until light and fluffy. Add the oil and mix well. In a separate bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder and baking soda. Gradually add the flour mixture to the wet ingredients until combined. Beat in the cream. Fold in the peaches and then spoon the mixture into prepared muffin tins ¾ of the way. Sprinkle each muffin with course sugar and bake for approximately 16-20 minutes until a toothpick comes out dry.

Summer Stories

Summer is a funny time in the kitchen, always crowded and crazy. As friends come and go on vacation, the kitchen becomes a place to catch up while cooking something quick. It’s Grand Central terminal, where friends connect, often briefly, before moving on to someplace else. This week, I got to cook with three different friends, two of whom just got back from vacation and one who was about to leave. It was a pretty successful week of summer cooking, despite varying schedules that make it tough to connect.

Our kitchens were bustling as we cooked for our varied goals. The shared mission was to feed our kids a healthy meal together (a modern extended family dinner) and then we each had several smaller missions to accomplish.

I had been in the process of making farm fresh corn ravioli last Monday when Kathe came over with bunches of garden basil and some pine nuts, prepared to make pesto. Since I would never turn down a chance to make pesto, I set my ravioli aside and added the garlic, parsley and cheese to her ingredients. Once we had about a cup or so of pesto each for our freezer (which by the way translates to many meals), we scraped what was left from the blender, added a bit of cooking liquid and served it on top of pasta to our kids for dinner.

Kathe soon eyed my homemade ravioli dough sitting on the counter and was eager to help me make the rest of my ravioli. (I am sure she was checking off another night’s meal in her head.) So, she stirred up a quick cheese filling with some ricotta cheese and fresh parsley and basil. Our girls, who were particularly interested in the process of making ravioli, helped out a bit, cutting the dough away from the mold with the groovy ravioli cutter.

At Debbie’ house later in the week, we put our farm fresh tomatoes to good use. Two loaves of banana bread were already in the oven, destined for Debbie’s upcoming week away. Yet Jackie, Debbie and I (with all nine kids playing in the background) worked diligently together, blanching, removing skins and seeds and then sautéing a delicious sauce. Our sauce became the base for a homemade pizza and the topping for that night’s pasta dinner but we each also came away with more than a quart for our freezer. With Jackie just back from vacation, we got to hear some stories about her adventures in France.

My cooking time with friends this week was less about quantity (although I didn’t end up with a shabby amount at all) and more about spending time together. I am excited for new friends to come back in the next week or so, and for kitchens bustling with a whole new set of summer stories.

It's Sauce Making Time

The tomatoes here in New Jersey are better than they’ve been in years. I’m getting 5 pounds of firm and beautiful organic beefsteaks this year with my CSA share instead of the measly ½ pound like last year. I guess the lack of rain and abundance of sun (which has left my front yard a burnt out mess,) has actually helped the farmers with this year’s growing season. At any rate, this summer our tomato sauce-making traditions are in full swing and better than ever.

I had the pleasure of visiting my friend Lou Saturday morning, during his sauce-making extravaganza. I thought the 20 quarts that Debbie and I usually cranked out together was a lot until I saw Lou in action, topping off more than 80 quarts. Lou usually has his good friend along to help him out, but this year he was fishing in Alaska so Lou set up shop with his lovely wife, Susan, and I luckily managed an invite. (BTW -- his “shop” is quite an efficient makeshift arrangement in his garage.)

Susan told me that this sauce-making tradition began years ago when their kids were little. They used to use a hand held press (like the one I use) and made it a family affair, with the kids getting messy and taking turns with the crank, just like Debbie and I do today with our kids. But over the years, Lou got more serious, acquired a professional series press with a motor and turned his sauce-making into an art form.

I had fully intended to show up Saturday morning anyway, but when a text showed up at 10:00 am on my phone with a snapshot of several quarts of sauce garnished with basil, I knew I had to hurry! Even though my husband and I were in the midst of a romantic staycation, sans the kids, he understood I couldn’t miss a food opportunity like this. When food calls (or rather when Lou calls), I tend to run, regardless of what I’m doing.

His garage was an expertly organized assembly line. I was greeted by dozens of still-ripening plum tomatoes laid out on a blanket, waiting for their turn through the press. I learned that Lou travels a few hours upstate to purchase 150 pounds of perfect tomatoes for 50 cents a pound. Just to compare, they’re $1.99 a pound at one of our local farm stands.

Inside the garage, Lou had several tables lined up, with a station at each. There was a long table to cut the plum tomatoes (a must have step to get rid of any excess liquid for a thick sauce) with a nice sharp knife and a cardboard box to place them in; a large gas powered steamer (the kind used for lobster) positioned next to the table, where the tomatoes would take a fifteen minute steam bath. Next to that was an industrial sized stainless steel tray, to drain and cool the cooked tomatoes; and finally there was a motorized pulverizer, which discarded the skins and seeds, while emptying a beautiful thick sauce into a pristine garbage can (which I was assured had never been used for garbage). Across the way was the packing up station, with quart sized containers and a wash bin of basil.

It was an impressive set up. And as Susan took a break to water the garden, I got to help Lou and experience first-hand how seamless and efficient his sauce-making system really is. I have to admit, even though I have my own tradition, I was a bit jealous that I didn’t have my own tomatoes. And as usual, when I’m with Lou I am both inspired and humbled by his proficiency. I always learn something too. This time, as I filled the containers with sauce and placed the lids, Lou taught me how to “burp” his sauce to remove any air, just as one would a baby. He pointed out that if the lid swells upward, you need to lift an edge, to give it a gentle burp to remove the air.

There is tremendous power in moments like these. I’ll never again be able to fill my containers with sauce without burping and will always think of Lou. My hour in Lou’s garage was a tease, as was the souvenir quart I got to take home. Next year I want in for sure! I just hope his friend will take another trip to Alaska.

Muffin Monday

I look forward to those overcast summer days, when the sun isn’t shining or it’s supposed to rain. It’s an excuse to stay indoors, cooking and spending time with a friend. With day trips to the beach or lake, or afternoons at the pool, our summer life can get a bit busy. Cooking dates need to be scheduled more precisely and often depend upon a less-than-desirable day of weather. So, bring on the occasional clouds, humidity or rain – I’ll take any chunk of time to cook with my friends.
That was the case last Monday, when I got together with Debbie and her kids. The weather was hazy, hot and simply uncomfortable. That’s when we decided to take the kids to the farmer’s market in Maplewood to pick up ingredients for an afternoon of cooking. (Go to my article on www.baristakids.com for details and our blueberry muffin recipe.) While I supervised the kids, who were measuring, mixing and baking their muffins, Debbie was by our side making a double batch of zucchini bread using up a surplus of her CSA squash. These breads and muffins are handy to have around as nutritious grab-and-go breakfasts before camp and gymnastics.
Debbie’s house smelled delicious with her oven filled with our farm fresh baked goods. We used the bit of down time to take a tour of her garden, checking the status of her tomatoes, eggplants and figs, while we plotted what we would create together once her fruits and veggies mature -- a fig spread, eggplant dip and a big batch of tomato sauce. We’re hoping to get together at the end of this week to make some garden fresh family meals that she’ll take with her on her week away and I’ll stock up in my freezer. A day of clouds or rain will make it that much easier to plan.
Zucchini Bread
Makes two loaves

¾ cup canola oil
1 ½ cups of sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
½ cup apple sauce
3 eggs
3 ½ cups white flour
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
1 ½ teaspoons baking soda
1 tablespoon baking powder
4 cups shredded zucchini

Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees. Spray two loaf (or 8 mini loaves) pans with baking spray.

In a large bowl, beat together the oil, apple sauce and sugar until well mixed. Beat in the eggs and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, cinnamon, salt, baking soda and baking powder. Gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet, mixing well. Add the shredded zucchini and mix until combined.

Bake for approximately 40 minutes until cooked through. If using mini loaf pans, cooking time will be about 20 minutes.

Food Conversation

Whether I’m catching up curbside with a neighbor or fielding text messages from friends, one of the pleasures of being a known food nut is hearing the day-to-day cooking stories and anxieties of those around me.

My association with food and the comfort of cooking with friends and neighbors makes me a magnet for their culinary exploits. Our cooking conversations come in many forms, traditional and less so.

Texts, e-mails and Facebook messages arrive throughout the week. I’m their cooking Ann Landers as they seek advice, share insecurities and then report in with the results. I receive snapshots of fresh baked bread, quiches and colorful platters of grilled farm vegetables, with proud notations of their food successes.

Then there are gifts of food arriving at my doorstep -- a box of homemade chocolate chip cookies as a farewell gift, a jar of peppered jelly, a loaf of artisan bread. These are another form of food conversation and I typically respond by placing something homemade on their front stoop.

I think of friends on vacation -- a jug of honey, a bag of sea salt or jar of piri piri sauce -- to share upon my return and they think of me. I’ve received maple syrup and Cheddar cheese from Vermont, olive oil from Italy and Marmite from England.

These snippets include me in other people’s lives, even if I am far away. It’s an added dimension to my life and community in food. And I love every bit of it!