• We all like fresh, seasonal vegetables that have small carbon footprints. There is nothing sadder than a hot house tomato in the middle of winter. Enjoying freshly picked vegetables out of your own garden is pure bliss. And while it’s probably too late this year to plant your own peas, it is worth putting a note on your calendar to start a pea farm of your own next March. You can even start them in windowsill containers, so you’ll have more to enjoy than just grocery store basil plants.

On a trip to Charleston, South Carolina back in the days of travel and eating in restaurants, I had an early spring salad with snap peas, radishes, fennel, strawberries and lemon buttermilk vinaigrette. The addition of the snap peas was a revelation! I had never thought of adding peas to a salad. I have tossed snow peas into stir fry, and English peas into Fettucini Alfredo, but sugar snap peas cold in a salad, lightly bathed in buttermilk dressing? Genius. They were better than bacon-fried croutons! That tasty moment was almost as pleasant as memories of childhood, eating peas from the garden.

Tiny little snap pea pods are sweet and crunchy, unlike English peas, which need to be shelled. And snow peas, while you can eat them from stem to stern, have thinner shells and are flaccid, yet are quite deelish in their modest way. https://www.thespruce.com/garden-vs-snow-and-sugar-snap-1403487

I’ve been venturing back into the garden now that we don’t have to worry about a frost. I have planted some containers with tomatoes and basil plants, and have filled the raised bed with seeds of flowers that promise to be irresistible to hummingbirds and other pollinators. It’s too early right now to tell what is a precious sown wildflower seed, and what might be a pernicious weed. I am hoping that the blue jays don’t discover the row of sunflower seeds before they have a chance to germinate and take root.

Elsewhere in the yard I am using newspapers and mulch again. Last year I tried that combination and for the most part, the garden beds were fairly weed-free. (Sadly, there is one corner that lets the neighbor’s invasive ivy in to roam freely, but I am game for that fight. I want to have a nice, presentable middle class hydrangea bed.)

I love this newsprint/mulch concept – supporting our local (and national) press, and recycling, without contributing to landfill. I haven’t gone too radical because I have topped the newspaper with commercial garden center mulch, but you can skip that step if you don’t mind looking at the newspaper. (Mr. Sanders is much too conventional for that approach.) I just want to control the weeds without using RoundUp and I don’t want to be like another neighbor, who eschews RoundUp, but has her yard sprayed every couple of weeks for mosquito control. I am too fond of our birds. Even the thieving blue jays. https://www.bbg.org/news/using_newspaper_as_mulch

I’m thinking of light spring-y recipes while I am weeding and mulching. It can still be pretty nippy in the morning, yet I long to make lighter foods. No more meatloaf. No more chicken pot pie. Bring on the pasta primavera, with new peas and garden-fresh farmers’ market tomatoes, please. https://www.delish.com/cooking/recipe-ideas/recipes/a48087/lemon-primavera-bowties-recipe/

This is more interesting than a salad plate of wilting iceberg lettuce. It is redolent with springtime: https://www.saveur.com/article/Recipes/Fresh-Peas-With-Lettuce-and-Green-Garlic/

This transcendent pea compound butter is good on toast, or spread on cooked meats: https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/spring-pea-butter-with-shallot-and-lemon

This recipe caused a stir in New York City a few years ago, and I think it will make for a very nice appetizer on the back porch this weekend. Green Pea Guacamole. Something light and crunchy, to go with our newest discovery – rosé Prosecco. https://www.onceuponachef.com/recipes/green-pea-guacamole.html

It is time to stop thinking of peas as something stodgy that we dig out of the freezer to be a side dish for winter-y meats and mashed potatoes. They are among the springiest of vegetables. Welcome, spring!

“We lived very simply – but with all the essentials of life well understood and provided for – hot baths, cold champagne, new peas and old brandy.”
Winston Churchill

The warm weather beckons, even though over Easter weekend, not even two weeks ago, there was such a hard frost that the hydrangeas got frostbitten. I thought they were leafing a little early, but how could I warn them? Now they have tiny, curled, black leaves at their tips. I am hoping the buds are safe because I intend to continue to celebrate all the glories of spring. The mockingbirds are staging aerial combats. The dogwoods are dancing, the azaleas are flashy and vivid. The daffodils are receding. And it is warming up.

Warm weather is drawing me back outside to the garden, and to the farmers’ market. Warm weather means fresh, local strawberries. Masked and distanced, I will be stalking them. Soon. I really can’t wait much longer. In anticipation of eating warm, local fruit I caved and bought some imports at the grocery store last weekend. We were going to grill dinner, and eat out at the small table on the back porch for the first time since fall. Although sweaters didn’t enter into my initial fantasy vision, they were necessary. Luckily, a lighter weight cotton sufficed: I have put the turtlenecks away.

I am always amused that our revered secret family recipes are often versions of recipes found on the backs of boxes. My mother’s special brownies were based on the recipe on the Baker’s Secret box. Her lively spin was to omit the walnuts, thus making them her own. To this day we leave out the nuts, and feel as if that act is an homage to my mother’s home baking. She also made killer strawberry shortcake, based on the recipe on the side of the Bisquick box. Her version – was to roll out the dough, and using the ancestral biscuit cutter that had been her mother’s, she cut out trim little rounds of dough. She preferred a neat and tidy shortcake. https://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/bisquick-strawberry-shortcake/370099a9-c927-4eae-93ba-ab66a455b996

Imagine my great dismay when after thoroughly searching the pantry I could not find the ever-present box of Bisquick. What kind of household do I think I run? And it was too late to run out to the grocery store – celebratory Saturday Prosecco had already been consumed. And so I turned to Google – every cook and baker’s secret weapon.

There I found this simple recipe from Jane Grigson’s Fruit Book:
https://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/fl-xpm-1986-08-06-8602160065-story.html

I divided the recipe in half, because there were just the two of us. If I had measured and baked according to the recipe, we would have had 16 neat and tidy, perfectly browned, divinely tasty shortcakes. As it was, there were 8, so we had to consume even more on Sunday night. But these do freeze nicely, so if you’d like to have an emergency supply for the spring nights to come, don’t do the math, just bake.

We had a yumsters dinner of the first cheeseburgers of the season, with cheap wine, and candlelight, and no mosquitoes, as yet. I related my modest tale of baking woe to Mr. Sanders, who stood up, and ambled into the pantry. He returned with a tall, fresh, box of Bisquick, that had been stashed on an uppermost shelf, and placed it, wordlessly, on the table. I think I might ditch the secret family recipe in favor of Jane Grigson’s. We need some new traditions.

Go forth and bake from scratch!

“One must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Mr. Sanders and I took advantage of the long Easter weekend to get out of town for a couple of nights. It was a combination of birthday celebrations, the end of winter, and we were buoyed by the hope that the constant COVID fears are receding. Thus we enjoyed a road trip to Brevard, NC, where we stayed at a charming inn, keeping ourselves socially distanced from the hosts and the one other couple staying there.

The inn was an elegant 1920s stone house, surrounded by sloping lawns and towering trees. The house had a slate roof, slender Corinthian columns supporting the curved portico roof, a generous sun porch extended to the left side of the house, and an ancient dog wooffled at us as we entered. There were high ceilings and many, many ticking clocks. The dining room was home to a grandfather’s clock, a mantel clock, and a boisterous cuckoo clock. We gathered that we should be prompt for our 8:30 breakfasts, otherwise it would be noted.

Normally, here at home, except for Sundays when we cook elaborately and exhaustively, breakfast is a do-it-yourself meal. Most days Mr. Sanders brews coffee, has an egg, some sausage, and perhaps yogurt and blueberries. I, being contrary and moody, pour a Diet Coke and gnaw on a piece of Wasa toast. We sit silent, reading the news on our respective computers. At the inn we felt compelled to be outgoing and personable, before caffeine. We even showered and wore presentable clothing. We left our computers in the room, and promptly, at 8:30 AM, we walked into the dining room and gamely placed the cloth napkins in our laps.

Across an attractive table, laid with silverware, a variety of glassware and coffee cups, with a vase of fresh pink carnations, under a mullioned window we amiably commented on birds and flowers and the possible varieties of the bare branches of the shrubbery in the garden. We craned our necks, hoping for another glimpse of the fabled, though elusive, white squirrels of Brevard.

Our host brought coffee, cream, and a cup of ice for my Diet Coke. Then some fresh squeezed juices. At respectable intervals, more courses were served to us. Our hosts believed in a three-course breakfast, which, of course, included dessert! So I can’t just blame the Easter jelly beans I inhaled during the course of our out-of-town adventure for my little bit of weight gain. I was just being polite.

The first day’s breakfast was a fresh fruit cup with a sparkling cider dressing, individual vegetable and Italian sausage frittatas, toasted bread from a local bakery, gleaming orange slices and tiny ramekins of hot, buttered grits. And for dessert, there were freshly baked fruit scones. The second day called for more juice, a warm fruit compote, topped with fresh whipped cream and yogurt, apple walnut pancakes, vegetarian link sausages and wee tiny oranges, and individual apple hand pies for dessert. It is a wonder we ever needed to eat again, and yet, lunch never came soon enough.

It has been some time since we last stayed in an inn, and never in one which took such pleasure in feeding us. The food was tasty, the plates were artfully arranged, the presentation was charming. I guess after thirteen months of lockdown it felt nice to be pampered, and doted upon. And perhaps it is time to embellish our breakfast routine.

Our lockdown breakfast tropes are boring, but they needn’t be permanent. How inconvenient can it be to cut up fruit at night to have in the morning? When was the last time I thought about buying a kiwi? That vegetarian sausage was very nice – I didn’t realize it was vegetarian until after the fact. Shocking! I had never thought to chop up walnuts and apples and put them into pancake batter! In fact, I manage to congratulate myself if there is enough maple syrup in the house for a pancake breakfast. It’s time to splash out and actually read the many cookbooks on our shelves.

I’ll get my second shot on Saturday, which means soon, still wearing our masks, we can wander a little more freely. I probably won’t get another respite at an inn for long while, but I can use some of the lessons learned there to make life a little more enjoyable at home. It’s spring, after all. I’m going to cut some daffodils for the table.

Lots of fruits are coming to the farmers’ markets now. This is a yummy, adaptable warm fruit compote recipe:
https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/mixed-berry-compote-103677

And don’t forget the creamy whipped cream and yogurt topping: https://food52.com/recipes/36877-yogurt-whipped-cream

As the weather warms up: https://food52.com/recipes/30137-berries-with-rose

“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what’s the first thing you say to yourself?”
“What’s for breakfast?” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?”
“I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?” said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the same thing,” he said.”
― A.A. Milne

In case you are curious, here’s where we stayed. Tell Abe and Pam we say, “Hi!” : https://thebromfieldinn.com

Food Friday is on the road this weekend, heading to a socially distant weekend get-away in Asheville. Mr. Friday is fully vaccinated, and I have had one shot, but we are stocking up on masks and hand sanitizer to enjoy a road trip and a change of scene. I feel your cabin fever, and am looking forward to the Fourth of July! Please indulge me and enjoy our making our favorite Easter dessert. Play nicely at your Easter egg hunts, and let the little ones find all the eggs. You can sip on a Bloody Mary or two.

At Easter I like to haul out my dear friend’s lemon cheesecake recipe, and reminisce, ruefully, about the year I decorated one using nasturtiums plucked fresh from the nascent garden, which unfortunately sheltered a couple of frisky spiders. Easter was late that year and tensions were already high at the table, because a guest had taken it upon herself to bring her version of dessert – a 1950s (or perhaps it was a British World War II lesson in ersatz ingredients recipe) involving saltines, sugar-free lime Jell-O, and a tub of Lite Cool Whip. The children were divided on which was more terrifying: ingesting spiders, or so many petro chemicals?

I am also loath to remember the year we hosted an Easter egg hunt, when it was so hot that the chocolate bunnies melted, the many children squabbled, and the adults couldn’t drink enough Bloody Marys. The celery and asparagus were limp, the ham was hot, and the sugar in all those Peeps brought out the criminal potential in even the most decorous of little girls. There was no Martha Stewart solution to that pickle.

Since our children did not like hard-boiled eggs, I am happy to say that we were never a family that hid real eggs for them to discover. Because then we would have been the family whose dog discovered toxic nuclear waste hidden behind a bookcase or deep down in the sofa a few weeks later. We mostly stuck to jelly beans and the odd Sacajawea gold dollar in our plastic Easter eggs. It was a truly a treat when I stepped on a pink plastic egg shell in the front garden later that year, when I was hanging Christmas lights on the bushes. There weren’t any jelly beans left, thank goodness, but there was a nice sugar-crusty gold dollar nestled inside it. Good things come to those who wait.

We won’t be hiding any eggs (real or man-made) this year, much to Luke the wonder dog’s disappointment. He’ll be at the spa, anyway. Instead we will have a nice decorous brunch outdoors, with Mumm Napa Brut Rosé and maybe a couple of slices of lemon cheesecake, sans the spiders, sans the lime Jell-O and Cool Whip. And we will feel sadly bereft because there will be no jelly beans, no melting chocolate, and no children.

Chris’s Cheesecake Deluxe

Serves 12
Crust:
1 cup sifted flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
1 egg yolk
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
Filling:
2 1/2 pounds cream cheese
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind
1 3/4 cups sugar
3 tablespoons flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
5 eggs
2 egg yolks
1/4 cup heavy cream

Preheat oven to 400° F
Crust: combine flour, sugar and lemon rind. Cut in butter until crumbly. Add yolk and vanilla. Mix. Pat 1/3 of the dough over the bottom of a 9″ spring form pan, with the sides removed. Bake for 6 minutes or until golden. Cool. Butter the sides of the pan and attach to the bottom. Pat remaining dough around the sides to 2″ high.
Increase the oven temp to 475° F. Beat the cream cheese until it is fluffy. Add vanilla and lemon rind. Combine the sugar, flour and salt. Gradually blend into the cream cheese. Beat in eggs and yolks, one at a time, and then the cream. Beat well. Pour into the pan. Bake 8-10 minutes.

Reduce oven heat to 200° F. Bake for 1 1/2 hours or until set. Turn off the heat. Allow the cake to remain in the oven with the door ajar for 30 minutes. Cool the cake on a rack, and then pop into the fridge to chill. This is the best Easter dessert ever.

Perfect Bloody Marys:
https://food52.com/recipes/8103_horseradish_vodka_bloody_mary

Remedial hard boiled eggs:
https://www.seriouseats.com/2012/04/how-to-make-perfect-hard-boiled-eggs

More than you thought you wanted to know about eggs:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/jacques-pepin-eggs-are-on-the-outs-again-to-me-theyll-always-be-perfect/2019/03/22/8d2334e0-4cc1-11e9-93d0-64dbcf38ba41_story.html?utm_term=.a6dd368aa915

https://inspiralized.com/potato-and-leek-frittata/

“Probably one of the most private things in the world is an egg before it is broken.”
― M.F.K. Fisher

The Passover holiday is an annual, weeklong festival celebrating the freedom of Jewish people from slavery in ancient Egypt. During COVID times we have had to modify our celebrations, but we have learned to do and share so much on Zoom that virtual Passover seders should prove to be memorable. Next year we should be able to share the holidays together.

This Saturday night, as Passover begins, gather your pod people and turn on your tablets to retell the story of the Exodus in song, prayer, and in eating symbolic foods. The seder meals should include eating matzo and bitter herbs, and include four cups of wine. Matzo is a reminder of the suffering of the slaves, and for getting out of Egypt: staying humble while still rejoicing.

The seder plate holds the symbols of the journey from slavery to freedom that are told in the Passover story. The plate is the centerpiece of the Passover seder. It holds the ceremonial foods on which the Seder meal is based: matzah, the zeroa (shankbone), egg, bitter herbs, haroset (an applesauce-like mixture with wine, nuts, apples, etc.) and karpas vegetable.The Mishnah names five types of bitter herbs eaten on the night of Passover: ḥazzeret (lettuce), ʿuleshīn (endive/chicory), temakha, ḥarḥavina, and maror. We are going to use radicchio, a kind of colorful chicory. These herbs symbolize the bitterness of slavery and are usually served on a seder plate, but they can also appear in salads served with the meal.

For years I confused radicchio and red cabbage, because they look quite similar, but taste wildly different. Radicchio is a red chicory that is sometimes called Italian chicory because of its common use in Italian cooking. It is grown as a leaf vegetable and is a red burgundy color, with white-veined leaves that form a head. (I had to spell the name for the clerk at the market during checkout. Everyone gets confused.) There are two types being most widely available: Treviso and Verona. Treviso leaves are oblong and grow in small, tightly packed heads. Verona radicchio has loosely packed round heads which are about the size of butter lettuce heads. Be sure to pick a head with crisp leaves, and no spots. They can be stored in the vegetable drawer of your fridge, and wrapped, it will keep for about a week.

Food52 has it covered: https://food52.com/blog/11879-radicchio-and-our-11-favorite-ways-to-use-it

I am partial to mixing sweet and bitter flavors. This is a bright and colorful citrus salad: https://www.kosher.com/recipe/radicchio-citrus-salad-6611

This version incorporates tart radishes, always a springtime favorite. https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/salad-of-bitter-greens-and-oranges-106407

Other salad ideas are:
38 Passover salad recipes from Jamie Geller: https://jamiegeller.com/holidays/salad-recipes-for-passover/

Passover Friendly Bitter Lettuce Salad: https://crunchyradish.com/thecrunchyradish/2019/4/1/passover-friendly-bitter-lettuce-salad

Passover Green Salad: https://recipes.beewild.buzz/passover-green-salad/

If you are looking for a new way to combine spring flavors with your mother’s brisket, try this: https://www.nrtoday.com/print_only/a-sprightly-brisket-for-your-passover-table/article_645dbf92-b8b8-558e-96fc-ffaca5536386.html

Chag kasher sameach — Have a happy and kosher holiday!

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”
― Charlotte Brontë

Tomorrow is the first day of spring. I trot around our garden, looking for the green shoots of daffodils poking up through the fallen leaves. There are purple and white crocus blooms emerging in unexpected places, where the squirrels have redesigned my grand garden scheme. I’m pretty sure it is the squirrels, because I find their other contributions: acorns and pecans tucked into the soil in window boxes and in some of the neglected pots left outside all winter. We are all waiting and watching for winter to move on. We are hungry for change and new, green beginnings.

Winter makes us cocoon for warmth and comfort in wooly sweaters and warm scarves, candlelight and cosy fires. With spring nearly upon us we can pivot, and put the dark wools away. I have found bright colors squirreled away in the back of the closet. I can’t wait to discover new and tender, fresh green spears of asparagus at the farmers’ markets, just in time for Passover and Easter feasts. We can eat trucked-in asparagus all year long, but the spring-time emergence of local, farm-fresh asparagus sparks joy. Goodbye, stodgy winter stews. Hello, asparagus.

Have you ever noticed that asparagus changes color when you blanch it? It goes from an inert olive-y green to a wild, dramatic chartreuse, verging on grass green in a flash. I always thought the change of pigment was magic, but instead, as Thomas Keller explains, it is science. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmIutCFXpHE

Who better to sing the praises of asparagus than the French Chef, Julia Child? Julia exhorts preparing asparagus the way the French do, by trimming the bottom of the stalk, and peeling tough outer skin with a vegetable peeler, just like Keller. But we are concentrating on asparagus that has just been plucked from the earth, and is brand spanking new, and does not need much peeling. This is the immediacy of springtime asparagus. Bon appétit! https://openvault.wgbh.org/catalog/V_B0D9EDA444FC425C8932E0BE8198AAA5

Passover is the holiday of spring, and asparagus is the perfect seder dish. Passover starts starts on Saturday, March 27th. Green is key to Passover, which celebrates spring, family, freedom and the Exodus. https://kosherlikeme.com/welcome-spring-green-to-your-passover-table-with-asparagus/

This past weekend we tried something new, with grocery store asparagus, so imagine how much more delicious it will be with slender, farm fresh asparagus. We love anything that includes capers. Thank you, Melissa Clark: Roasted Asparagus With Crispy Leeks and Capers. https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1021977-roasted-asparagus-with-crispy-leeks-and-capers?

1 pound thick asparagus, ends trimmed
2 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and black pepper
1 large leek, white and light green parts, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons drained capers
Lemon wedges, for serving
¼ cup parsley, leaves and tender stems, torn

Mustard sauce
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons drained capers, finely chopped
1 small garlic clove, finely grated or minced
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and black pepper

PREPARATION
Heat oven to 425ºF. Put asparagus on a rimmed sheet pan and toss with 1 tablespoon oil and 1/2 teaspoon salt until well coated.
In a small bowl, stir together leeks, remaining 1 tablespoon oil, and a pinch each of salt and pepper. Sprinkle leeks on top of asparagus, then sprinkle with capers. Roast until asparagus are tender and golden brown, about 12 to 18 minutes.
While the asparagus stalks roast, make the mustard sauce: In a small bowl, whisk together mustard, capers and garlic. Slowly whisk in olive oil a few drops at a time to create a thick, emulsified dressing. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Once asparagus stalks are out of the oven, squeeze a lemon wedge over it and sprinkle parsley on top. Serve with mustard sauce and more lemon wedges on the side.

Frittatas always seem decadent and impulsive for dinner, yet completely respectable for breakfast. Thus, this dish can only get better with a glass of wine: https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/frittata-with-asparagus-and-scallions-358321

A light take on risotto: https://www.skinnytaste.com/spring-asparagus-risotto/

Heartier fare comes from Ina Garten’s kitchen: https://barefootcontessa.com/recipes/asparagus-prosciutto-bundles Bundles of asparagus are wrapped with prosciutto and dusted with grated Gruyere cheese. (And you will be glad to know, are gluten free!) These will be perfect as Easter side dishes, or a light spring dinner as you sit by an open window and feel the cool evening breezes waft through the back yard. Keep looking for the first fireflies.

“For a lot of people, poetry tends to be dull. It’s not read much. It takes a special kind of training and a lot of practice to read poetry with pleasure. It’s like learning to like asparagus.”
–Thomas M. Disch

The possibilities of pie are endless. And I do not mean just the numerical constant that is π: 3.14159… I do like baking a pie on March 14, π Day, but that is the end of my fascination with numbers. I would rather consider all the ways to consume delicious pie.

Pi Day celebrates the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter, which is approximately 3.14159. (Pi Day = 3/14 in the month/date format.) I have a friend, a former math major, who does not count sheep when she has trouble sleeping. Instead, she calculates π digits. The infinite number amuses her and lulls her to sleep, but if I could hold all those numbers in my head there wouldn’t be room for the Gilligan’s Island theme song lyrics or arcane thirtysomething plot points.

I do not bake many pies a year (unless you count our weekly Friday night pizzas), which is probably why I have never yet rolled out a round pie shell. I even have an over-priced pie rolling guide peddled shamelessly by one of my go-to cooking sites, which doesn’t seem to help much. Among the kitchen skills I would like to master: round, flaky pie crusts (and pretty plaited lattice tops for cherry pies); perfect hot and crisp French fries, which emerge from their hot oil bath at the precise moment the cheeseburger is cooked, and some of that sour dough bread that everyone else in the universe has mastered during lockdown. https://food52.com/recipes/24966-cook-s-illustrated-foolproof-pie-crust

You can have sweet pies, savory pies, cream pies, hand pies, fried pies, and humble pies. You can be Sweeny Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street, and make a name for yourself with meat pies. You can be James Taylor, and sing an ode to your own Sweet Potato Pie. Or you can let the moon hit your eye with your own pizza pie.

There are several different kinds of pie crusts. Not all of them need to be flaky and fluted. Some aren’t even baked! These are ideal for those of us who are not nimble with dough. I have became a big fan of shortbread crust. And a dark, crumbly Famous Wafer crust is an excellent foil for an ice cream pie come summer. Take a gander: https://www.crazyforcrust.com/pie-crust-recipes/

There is a pie for every event. We have Boston cream pie for our birthday celebrations; though some say that BCP is a cake, I disagree. I bake a round, yellow cake-like object, split it, trowel one half with a thick layer of cream patisserie, and replace the top half. Then I pour a generous thick, gleaming coating of chocolate ganache – tempered with a dash of brandy or Armagnac- over the reassembled cake-like object. It cools into a shiny, slick surface. Perfect for reflecting those myriad birthday candles. That’s some pie.

We used to know a couple who scorned ritual birthday cakes, and served pie instead. An apple pie for your birthday? You might as well rake leaves or fold laundry on your birthday. The pie couple has since divorced.

My favorite pie is chicken pot pie. I do a variation on Martha’s – but I buy the pie crust already made. Which is probably why I haven’t calculated pi since my junior year of high school– I am always looking for the easy way out. https://www.marthastewart.com/891257/classic-chicken-potpie I may not be able to roll out a perfect circle, but those wily folks at Pillsbury can. And no one is the wiser. Mr. Sanders would never notice if I toiled with butter and flour and sharp knives to make a homemade crust. Martha might, but so far our parallel universes haven’t come close to colliding…

We managed to let George Washington’s birthday get away from us without the ritual and apocryphal cherry pie. What were we thinking? https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/traditional-cherry-pie-232579

If spring is coming, can rhubarb be far behind? https://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/deep-dish-strawberry-rhubarb-pie

The Barefoot Contessa has a fabulous blueberry pie: https://dinnerthendessert.com/blueberry-pie/

This is savory, and sweet, and portable: https://gardenandgun.com/recipe/vivian-howards-apple-country-ham-hand-pies/

And to hit all the relevant holiday notes – St. Patrick’s Day is next week. Maybe you should be preparing a beer-infused Guinness Chocolate Cream Pie. All of the sweet decadence of whipped cream, combined with dark chocolate and darker beer. https://food52.com/recipes/20120-guinness-chocolate-cream-pie

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!

“Cut my pie into four pieces, I don’t think I could eat eight.”
― Yogi Berra

The COVID-19 pandemic has brought changes to everyone, world-wide. Lockdowns mean few dine out, except the hardy folks braving outdoor tables and sidewalk pods in winter conditions. Spring, and the vaccines, are coming, and hope is poised on the horizon, but we are not enjoying sweater weather or herd immunity just yet. Won’t it be fabulous when we can wander into our favorite waterfront restaurants soon, and see our neighbors, and eat food that we didn’t clumsily prepare ourselves?

I can’t wait to eat some professionally-baked, crusty French bread, smeared with good butter, drinking a flute of well-chilled Prosecco. Maybe Mr. Sanders will enjoy a platter of deliciously iced oysters, shucked by someone talented and dextrous. (When we try to shuck them at home we always feel as if we are one step closer to a trip to the ER.) This has been our option for the past year: home cooking. Some meals have been better than others. We try not to dwell on the Great Baguette Debacle.

The Maryland oyster industry has been suffering through this year of the pandemic. With restaurants closed or serving mostly take out foods, there has been less demand for our local oysters. Luckily Eastern Shore oyster-farming has gone online, and you can eat very well while supporting our local aquaculture: https://www.chesapeakeoysteralliance.org/partners/where-to-buy-chesapeake-farmed-oysters.html

There is an old saying about only eating raw oysters in the months with the letter “r”, generally September to April. Luckily we are perched at the beginning of March. Get out your shucking knives and cut up some lemons. Try a few kinds of the bi-valve from several locations around the Bay. The flavor of an oyster varies by the degree of salinity in the water. You will have lots to choose from.

This weekend, why don’t you enjoy a little home-made oyster roast? Get the fire pit roaring or bring some blankets into the back yard for a nice, socially distanced seafood fest. After you suck down a dozen raw oysters it will be time to move onto oyster stew, fried or grilled oysters, or Oysters Rockefeller or even oyster pie. And then you will wonder why you have been depriving yourself of oysters all through this COVID-19 panic. Get online to order some delicious Maryland seafood.

First: learn how to shuck an oyster. It is a deceptively simple-looking art.
https://youtu.be/n_YPxcF1ta4

Here are some recipes from some of the Eastern Shore oyster farms – you can revel in all the different flavors found around the Bay as you support our local ostreiculture:

Maryland Fried Oysters
https://www.visitmaryland.org/article/maryland-fried-oysters-recipes

https://hoopersisland.com/recipe/fried-oysters/

Maryland Oyster Stew
https://www.eatingwell.com/recipe/250849/maryland-oyster-stew/

Choptank Sweets Parmesano
https://www.choptanksweets.com/recipes/choptank-sweets-parmesano

Scott Budden’s Grilled Orchard Point Oysters
https://edibledelmarva.ediblecommunities.com/recipes/scott-buddens-grilled-orchard-point-oysters

Cheddar Baked Oysters
https://fishermansdaughteroysters.org/recipes/

From some non-shore folks:

Oyster Pie
https://food52.com/blog/19531-a-simply-good-oyster-pie-that-tastes-like-the-chesapeake

Oyster Pan Roast
https://heated.medium.com/immune-boosting-meals-to-keep-you-strong-508e9ab8c1aa

Oyster info: https://www.chesapeakeoysteralliance.org

And remember to recycle your oyster shells! https://www.chesapeakeoysteralliance.org/get-involved/recycle-oyster-shells.html

https://baltimorefishbowl.com/stories/pandemic-could-change-the-maryland-oyster-industry-for-good/

“As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.”
– Ernest Hemingway

We spend a lot of our time at home pinging like little pinballs between the television in the living room and the kitchen stove. There are some side trips to the laundry room to wash loads of laundry, and to the garage to deposit wine bottles in the recycling bin. That’s because we are leading an elegant home-bound pandemic life, dressed in our finest yoga pants and shapeless sweatshirts. Cooking, washing, eating, watching television. Thank goodness that Stanley Tucci has come along, to take us to Italy, at least on Sunday nights.

Stanley Tucci: nattily dressed, in scarves and jackets, slim and twinkling, is our cicerone to Italy. Remember travel? Remember getting gussied up to go some place? With vaccines on the horizon we have started to think of places we would like to go, and with Stanley Tucci beaming at us every week, the list is growing. Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy on CNN is an exploration of different regions and foods. Armchair travel is an excellent way to explore the world, but it leaves us yearning – with whetted appetites for someplace new and exotic. Thank goodness there is pasta.

Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy https://www.cnn.com/videos/foodanddrink/2021/02/19/searching-for-italy-rome-2.cnn

It has taken me all winter to finally master this deceptively simple pasta recipe: https://www.thekitchn.com/samin-nosrat-pasta-cacio-e-pepe-22949332

It was worth the effort. It has amused me to stumble on this dish, only to find it everywhere. We first encountered it watching Samin Nosrat’s charming Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat series on Netflix. (https://www.netflix.com/title/80198288) I used to make a stodgy Fettuccini Alfredo with an extensive list of ingredients, back in our misguided youth. We are now Cacio e pepe converts.

I am always looking to simplify. Cacio e pepe satisfies our need for comforting, warming pasta, with fewer trips to the grocery store. It can be assembled quickly, whenever the yearning overcomes us. Spaghetti, black pepper and Pecorino cheese and olive oil all have long shelf lives. I was stupified to discover a pasta dish that didn’t need garlic!

When I walk Luke the wonder dog I listen to podcasts, because heaven knows what I would do with half an hour of my own thoughts. I enjoy the Table Manners podcast, as I have mentioned here before. There is nothing more cheering than listening to a couple of Brits nattering about their childhood lunches and their favorite meals. Trotting along behind the sniffing Luke, I listened to a guest, Elizabeth Olsen, chattering away with Jessie Ware and her mother about how much she enjoyed making cacio e pepe, because she enjoyed eating it at a very swanky Beverly Hills eatery. Jessie Ware asked her if it was hard to get the sauce to emulsify, and Elizabeth Olsen was stumped. She had skipped that step. Well, she is an actress, and not a cook. And the emulsification step is a little tricky.

And maybe Elizabeth Olsen had only cooked cacio e pepe once or twice. I have cooked it at least a dozen times now (I’ll do almost anything to avoid the grocery store – and Monday night is always Pasta Night in our house) and I think I can finally say that I have just mastered emulsification. And it is tricky damn woo. So when you get to that step, take your time. Add the starchy cooking water gradually. And stir, stir, stir. It makes a difference. You’ll get there.

I tried a variation on cacio e pepe recently. It is not for timid souls. I doubt if I will try it again. It called for using red pepper flakes instead of black pepper. It was fiery. But it did have lots of garlic. https://www.food.com/recipe/olive-oil-garlic-and-crushed-red-pepper-pasta-sauce-295835

Spring is on its way. So are the vaccines. While you wait, listen to a podcast or two. Try something new for dinner. Watch Stanley Tucci and Samin Nosrat and dream of warm Italian nights, sitting in a piazza, under strings of lights, drinking a nice rustic red with your friends and family. Bliss.

“Life is a combination of magic and pasta.”
-Federico Fellini

Don’t forget to watch Stanley Tucci in two other calorie-laden films: Big Night and Julie and Julia.