Salad Week: Arugula, Fig, Proscuitto, Walnut and Paremsan

Today marks the first day of Thanksgiving vacation. I'm home alone (wow!), baking a pie and listening to music, specifically Radiohead, Aimee Mann and Imogen Heap. I love cooking because I get so lost in it--or maybe I'm found in it. The rest of life pauses while I sift flour, salt and sugar and watch it float onto its own little white mountain. I start to remember things from my past like the Red House--a dilapidated place with peeling, fake brick siding that sat in our backyard at the house I grew up in. My siblings and I used to play a game, throwing rocks through the holes in the roof. I remember other things too: burs in my hair, the back road to my country high school, coffee with my sisters, buckles on a saddle for the girth, Brandon's old Subaru... I recollect myself and think about where I am and where I'm going. I have to cook, otherwise, I might get lost in my double-life routine.

More on that pie later . . . can't taste it until tomorrow.

Our second-to-last before Thanksgiving dinner salad was my favorite so far, winning by a nose because I have enjoyed them all. I have an arugula fetish, so it was bound to come out sooner or later. Unfortunately, Brandon does not like arugula, so I compromised with a mix. The dressing on this salad is really something special. You have to microwave the figs after dousing them with balsamic vinegar whisked with raspberry jam--a truly glorious concoction!

The recipe says it is optional to crisp the proscuitto before adding it to the salad; I would 100% disagree. If you are going to make this, you will not be sorry you took the extra time to crisp the garnish. I tried it both cooked and uncooked. There is only one choice here, and it is the first.


ARUGULA SALAD WITH FIGS, PROSCIUTTO, WALNUTS, AND PARMESAN

Serves 6.   Published November 1, 2006.
Although frying the prosciutto adds crisp texture to the salad, if you prefer, you can simply cut it into ribbons and use it as a garnish. Honey can be substituted for the jam in any of these salad recipes.

INGREDIENTS
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 ounces thinly sliced prosciutto , cut into 1/4-inch-wide ribbons
1 tablespoon raspberry jam
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup dried figs , stems removed, fruit chopped into 1/4-inch pieces
1 small shallot , very finely minced (about 1 tablespoon)
5 ounces lightly packed stemmed arugula (about 8 cups)
1/2 cup toasted, chopped walnuts
2 ounces Parmesan cheese , shaved into thin strips with vegetable peeler

INSTRUCTIONS
1. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in 10-inch nonstick skillet over medium heat; add prosciutto and fry until crisp, stirring frequently, about 7 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer to paper-towel-lined plate and set aside to cool.

2. Whisk jam and vinegar in medium microwave-safe bowl; stir in figs. Cover with plastic wrap, cut several steam vents in plastic, and microwave on high until figs are plump, 30 seconds to 1 minute. Whisk in remaining 3 tablespoons oil, shallot, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper; toss to combine. Let cool to room temperature.

3. Toss arugula and vinaigrette in large bowl; adjust seasonings with salt and pepper. Divide salad among individual plates; top each with portion of prosciutto, walnuts, and Parmesan. Serve immediately.

Salad Week: Mediterranean Chopped Salad

Exhausted. I'm thankful for salad week because I am exhausted. This morning when I woke up I felt like a limp bunch of sea weed left hanging on the beach from the pounding retreat of high tide.

Also this morning, I was reminded of the last line of The Great Gatsby: "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." It had me combing our bookshelves in the bedroom to find it before I even brushed my teeth. The first time I read that was about nine years ago, but I will never forget it because it seemed to me, so true. I'm revisited by those words often as life changes, as things fall apart and rebuild, as I clutch to things and let others go. At this very moment, I don't feel that the past is so much my problem as is the tumultuous present; nevertheless, the words are there in my head reminding me that I am quite small and yet not alone.

At least my dinners this week don't require a lot of work, special tricks, or clean up.

Last night I made a classic Mediterranean chopped salad, which was hearty--chock full of chick peas and calamata olives and cucumber. Plenty of parsley gives the dish a distinctive herby flavor. The only thing I might consider adding to this recipe would be a few spicy banana pepper rings for garnish.

This recipe makes A LOT of salad. It's the first dinner salad we haven't been able to finish. A perfect dish for the season of pot-lucking.

Mediterranean Chopped Salad

Serves 4 as a light entrée and 6 as a side dish. Published July 1, 2009. From Cook's Illustrated.

Ingredients:

1 medium cucumber , peeled, halved lengthwise, seeded, and cut into 1/2-inch dice (about 1 1/4 cups)
1 pint grape tomatoes , quartered (about 1 1/2 cups)
Table salt
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 medium garlic clove , minced or pressed through garlic press (about 1 teaspoon)
1 (14-ounce) can chickpeas , drained and rinsed
1/2 cup chopped pitted kalamata olives
1/2 small minced red onion (about 1/4 cup)
1/2 cup roughly chopped fresh parsley
1 romaine heart , cut into 1/2-inch pieces (about 3 cups)
4 ounces feta cheese , crumbled (about 1 cup)
Ground black pepper

Instructions:

1. Combine cucumber, tomatoes, and 1 teaspoon salt in colander set over bowl and let stand 15 minutes.

2. Whisk oil, vinegar, and garlic together in large bowl. Add drained cucumber and tomatoes, chickpeas, olives, onion, and parsley; toss and let stand at room temperature to blend flavors, 5 minutes.

3. Add romaine and feta; toss to combine. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

Salad Week: Colleen's Usual

Last night marked our second salad day, sort of. Call me a cheater, but I couldn't resist throwing in this tomato soup (below). The soup was just divine, even without the chives on top (trim out the garnish and save $3.99!) Rosie gobbled this soup by the spoonful and Brandon savored it, all the while chiding me for not sticking to the rules. The blended bread and olive oil create a texture/taste illusion--it's creamy, but it's not!

I kept the salad simple with what I call "Colleen's Usual." I just throw in whatever greens and veggies I have hanging around and then toss in a simple dressing that goes like this:

Olive oil--twice around the bowl

Vinegar--a few shakes of the bottle (about 1 tablespoon, balsamic or red or white wine)

Dried Italian Herbs--a hefty sprinkling

Basil--add torn fresh leaves if you have them otherwise omit

Garlic powder--just a touch (optional)

Juice of 1/4 (or more) lemon--just cut and squeeze with hand

Kosher salt and fresh ground pepper

To mix things up, sometimes I'll add black olives or marinated artichoke hearts.

Creamless Creamy Tomato Soup

Serves 6 to 8. Published September 1, 2008. From Cook's Illustrated.
Ingredients:

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil , plus more for drizzling
1 medium onion , chopped medium (about 1 cup)
3 medium garlic cloves , minced or pressed through garlic press (about 1 tablespoon)
Pinch hot red pepper flakes (optional)
1 bay leaf
2 (28-ounce) cans whole tomatoes packed in juice
1 tablespoon brown sugar
3 large slices good-quality sandwich bread , crusts removed, torn into 1-inch pieces
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 tablespoons brandy (optional)
1/4 cup chopped fresh chives

Instructions:

1. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in Dutch oven over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add onion, garlic, red pepper flakes (if using), and bay leaf. Cook, stirring frequently, until onion is translucent, 3 to 5 minutes. Stir in tomatoes and their juice. Using potato masher, mash until no pieces bigger than 2 inches remain. Stir in sugar and bread; bring soup to boil. Reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring occasionally, until bread is completely saturated and starts to break down, about 5 minutes. Remove and discard bay leaf.
2. Transfer half of soup to blender. Add 1 tablespoon oil and process until soup is smooth and creamy, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer to large bowl and repeat with remaining soup and oil. Rinse out Dutch oven and return soup to pot. Stir in chicken broth and brandy (if using). Return soup to boil and season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve soup in individual bowls. Sprinkle each portion with pepper and chives and drizzle with olive oil.

An Acquired Taste: Peanut Butter and Coffee

A favorite breakfast of my dad's is a peanut butter sandwich dunked in coffee. He presses the sides of a slice of peanut-buttered sandwich bread until they're just snug, and then dunks it in a hot cup of coffee. He's always careful with the dunk, lifting the coffee-d part of the sandwich up in a swooping motion so that it doesn't break off and fall in. He eats it in airy bites, cooling the coffee as it hits his mouth. This is his before-Mass, Sunday staple.

I was an ocean away from home before I tried peanut butter and coffee for the first time. I remember sitting in the dining hall of my Scottish dorm (Junior Year Abroad), which was actually a very old hotel, and, for the first time, spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread, fitting the sides together, and dunking it into a very bitter instant brew. The next morning, with some indifference, I tried it again. It took a week for the taste to hit home, but after that I was hooked.

I still can't put my finger on what is so good about this--I'm chalking it up to comfort food.

Salad Week: Pan-Roasted Pear Salad

Today begins Salad Week for Brandon and me. I think the crispy treats and alfredo put us both over the edge and in need of serious green therapy. We were craving healthy food, and what better time to begin a week (almost) of dinner salads than right before the Thanksgiving holiday?

We kicked off the week with a heavenly salad: pan-roasted pear with watercress, parmesan and pecans. I could not find watercress anywhere in Amherst or Madison Heights (not surprising), so I left that out. Despite this omission, the salad still had us raving.

This past work week was interminable. So, naturally, with a happy-hour martini in my right hand, I pulled out pears and leaf lettuce and cheese from the fridge with my left--almost burned the walnuts that were toasting in the meantime. I have never "roasted" pears before; watching the white slices turn gold and then rich brown with balsamic glaze, I reached a new cooking high.

This salad was a thrilling circus of textures and flavors. I am still giddy about it here, a day later. The zip of parmesan, tangy-sweet glazed pears, roasty nuts, aromatic shallots, and mild greens combined to a bowl of dinnertime bliss. We ate it all, sharing the pears with Rosie, who immediately refused any subsequent spoonfuls of baby food.

Salad Week: Day 1 was a repeatable success!

Here's the recipe:

Serves 4 to 6.  Published November 1, 2007.  From Cook's Illustrated.

INGREDIENTS

• 3 ripe but firm pears (about 1 1/2 pounds), quartered and cored (see note above)
• 2 1/2 teaspoons sugar
• 2 tablespoons olive oil plus an additional 2 teaspoons
• 4 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
• 1 small shallot, minced (about 1 tablespoon)
• 1/2 medium head green leaf lettuce, washed, dried, and torn into 1-inch pieces (about 4 cups)
• 2 small bunches watercress, washed, dried, and stemmed (about 4 cups)
• 4 ounces Parmesan cheese, shaved into thin slices with a vegetable peeler
• 3/4 cup pecans, toasted and chopped

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Toss pears, 2 teaspoons sugar, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper in medium bowl. Heat 2 teaspoons oil in large skillet over medium-high heat until just smoking. Add pears cut-side down in single layer and cook until golden brown, 2 to 4 minutes. Using small spatula or fork, tip each pear onto second cut side; continue to cook until second side is light brown, 2 to 4 minutes longer. Turn off heat, leave skillet on burner, and add 2 tablespoons vinegar; gently stir until vinegar becomes glazy and coats pears, about 30 seconds. Transfer pears to large plate and cool to room temperature, about 45 minutes. Cut each pear quarter crosswise into 1/2-inch pieces.

2. Whisk remaining 2 tablespoons oil, remaining 2 tablespoons vinegar, remaining 1/2 teaspoon sugar, and shallot together in large bowl; season to taste with salt and pepper. Add lettuce, watercress, and cooled pears to bowl; toss and adjust seasonings with salt and pepper. Divide salad among individual plates; top each with portions of cheese and nuts. Serve immediately.

Monday Night

On Mondays, Brandon and the baby get home early. When I walk in, usually one or both of them is hungry, the dog is positively bouncing with joy, and last night's dessert plus this morning's breakfast dishes are stacked along the counter top. So after throwing a quick kiss to Bran, patting the dog, finding a snack for everyone, and scrubbing the cereal bowls, I start to cook. Life for us is a very frequent dance of homecomings, of settling ourselves into place. When I finally set the big steel pot steaming or sizzling on the stove-top, the quiet festivities of the evening can begin.

I try to find recipes that I can make in under an hour. It's essential for me to begin with a clean counter and sink--plenty of room to prep ingredients, work quickly, and keep tools organized. I feel much better when I know where my utensils are and when my mess is contained. A little ordered disorder is no problem at all.

Tonight, I tried a recipe from Cook's Illustrated: Lighter Fettuccine Alfredo. I just started using the Cooks Illustrated website and have found that their recipes offer lots of useful tips and new techniques that you can apply to other dishes as you tweak and refine them. I wouldn't have thought to add a little cornstarch to Alfredo, but my sauce was beautifully thick and smooth after I did. I wouldn't have thought to warm the serving bowls with some of the boiling pasta water to keep this very temperature sensitive dish at it's best on the table. I'm sure I'll use these tips again!

This recipe called for a little bit of grated whole nutmeg (see previous post) and a cup of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. It was worth every penny to get the real P-Regg. rather than the more affordable Americanized version--"parmesan." I don't always splurge on this, but for the Alfredo I did and would again. It adds the zing you need to balance out the cream.

I'll confess that Alfredo has not always been a favorite dish of mine, but I have been warming to it over the past two years. With some extra cheese grated on top, this recipe was delicious. Brandon wasn't sure about the nutmeg, which added some fullness to the flavor of the dish. "Woody" came to mind for me, but I suppose the obvious adjective is "nutty." Next time, I might substitute the nutmeg for a little garlic powder...

In the end, I'd say this Alfredo recipe is a good one to have in my pocket.


LIGHTER FETTUCCINE ALFREDO--Cooks Illustrated, March 22, 2007

This recipe was published in The Best Light Recipe.

INGREDIENTS

3/4	cup half-and-half
1/8	teaspoon fresh grated nutmeg
	Table salt
1	teaspoon cornstarch
9	ounces fresh fettuccine
2	ounces Parmigiano-Reggiano , grated fine (about 1 cup)
	Ground black pepper

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Bring 6 quarts water to a boil in a large pot. Using a ladle or heatproof measuring cup, fill four individual serving bowls with about 1/2 cup of the boiling water each; set the bowls aside to warm.

2. Meanwhile, bring 1/2 cup of the half-and-half, the nutmeg, and 1/4 teaspoon salt to a simmer in a 3- to 4-quart saucepan. Whisk the cornstarch and remaining 1/4 cup half-and-half together, then whisk it into the simmering mixture. Continue to simmer the sauce, whisking constantly, until it has thickened, about 1 minute. Cover and set the pot off the heat.

3. Stir 1 tablespoon salt and the pasta into the boiling water and cook, stirring constantly, until al dente, 1 to 2 minutes. Reserving 3/4 cup of the pasta cooking water, drain the pasta.
 
4. Return the half-and-half mixture to medium-low heat and whisk in 1/2 cup of the pasta cooking water. Slowly whisk in the Parmesan. Add the pasta and cook, coating the pasta evenly with the sauce, until the sauce has thickened slightly, about 1 minute. Season with pepper to taste. Working quickly, empty the serving bowls of water, divide the pasta among the bowls, and serve.

Salty/Sweet Tooth

I meant to make these salted brown butter crispy treats last weekend, but after the birthday cake they seemed a little much. However, I am so glad that I did not wait longer than one week to make this absolutely delightful twist on an old favorite. Brown butter and a dash of sea salt make these bars simply gourmet and in less than 10 minutes! The cleanup was easy too. Just soak your big pot for a while and the sticky marshmallow will dissolve right off.

We all munched these this afternoon, grateful for a sunny day after a week of cold rain. Rosie and I sat outside on a blanket afterwards, picking up autumn's fallen leaves and dropping them into a picnic basket. One by one we took them all out again, clapping in between. For us, plastic toys pale in comparison to the ones given from above.

Nanny's Pasta Fazool

I'm letting out one of Nanny's best kept secrets, her Pasta e Fagioli. It's pronunciation has morphed over the years of children and grandchildren into the endearing term, Pasta Fazool. If you love the rustic Italian flavors of parsley, garlic, potatoes, and white beans, you will love this. My dad always called it the soup of peasants, though I dare say it is worthy of lords.

My Nanny is 100% Italian. I would describe her as a romantic grandmother--beautiful, passionate, religious, generous, and exuberant. She always seems to be in love with something, whether it's a new pair of shoes, or a song, or an apricot pastry. She may not claim to be an artist, but she is one, and food is her medium. She treats each recipe as if it were a being of it's own, a creation outside of herself--like a writer and her novel. Nanny always calls food by its title, never saying, "I'm making meatballs," but, "I'm making The Meatballs."

At Christmas two years ago, she gave everyone in the family a cookbook, put together with Poppop's help, containing the family recipes that, if not written down, might otherwise be lost--the pizza fritas, the stuffed cabbage, the marinara sauce, the gnocchi...the Pasta Fazool. There are 70 of them, and I'll be sharing my personal favorites from time to time.

Everyone's pasta fazool will turn out a little differently. Brandon and I like ours a little thicker than most. The recipe calls for one potato. I add two. It calls for 1/4 parmesan cheese. I add a third. It calls for 1 cup of chopped parsley. I usually add a full bunch. Italian parsley is best. Look for the darkest, least wilted bunch. (If you're like me, wilted parsley is the bane of your weekly shopping trip.) Also, I use ditalini pasta, not ziti, but you can use either. This soup will be at its best a day after you make it.

A word of caution: The salt will make or break this recipe. Under salted it's good, but nothing like what you'll experience if this dish is salted just right. The salt will truly unlock the flavors. Over salted, it's just inedible.

Here's the recipe:

2 15 oz. cans Cannellini Beans---do not drain

1/2 c olive oil

6 large garlic cloves

1 c chopped parsley

1 1/2 c diced celery

1 c white wine

1 medium baking potato, cubed

1/2 lb ziti

water

salt, pepper, oregano, basil (fresh or dried)

1/4 c grated parmesan cheese

Put olive oil into a 6-qt. pot and bring to medium heat.

Add chopped garlic, cook until golden (about 1 min.)

Add parsley, saute 4 - 5 min. on low heat--do not burn.

Add celery and saute 3 - 4 min.

Add white wine, salt, pepper, oregano, basil.

Add 2 cups of water.

Add potato and simmer 15 - 20 min. until potato is tender.

Crush some of the potato with a fork against the side of the pot and stir.

Add the beans and scrape cans with a rubber spatula to get all of the juice.

With a fork, mash a few more pieces of potato and some beans to thicken the soup.

Add the parm. cheese and simmer 3 minutes more.

In a different pot filled with water and 1 tsp. salt, boil pasta.

To serve: place some pasta in a soup bowl and ladle the soup over it. Top each serving with parmesan cheese.

The book reads at the bottom of the page: "This is one of Poppop's favorites and is positively the best of all the pasta fagiolis he has ever tasted."

Birthday Boy, Birthday Cake

Brandon's birthday was Saturday, November 7. His signature birthday cake (to date) is the Better Homes and Gardens Yellow Cake iced with Martha Stewart's Ultimate Chocolate Icing. This yellow cake recipe is simple and very good for that classic birthday cake look, taste, and texture. I have never had this cake flop, except once when I added baking soda instead of baking powder. Lesson learned...

I love to build a layer cake. It's got a structure to be determined (I love to use square pans), then a tedious stacking process, and finally a color palate to choose and apply. It's your own little (or big) creation. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but it's always a learning process. This was my first time spreading the icing with an icing spatula. I HIGHLY recommend this tool. It helps you spread wide sweeps of icing.

The layer cake was a lot of work. I had to bake it, wash the baking dishes, dry it, wash the drying racks, make the chocolate icing, wash all icing bowls and tools, make the colored icing, design and ice the cake, and finally, wash the colored icing bowl and tools! But, even the copious amount of dishes I had to do cannot compare with the piles that Brandon washes sans machine each evening after my culinary escapades. So, I raise this cake to Brandon, a most patient, dedicated, and supportive husband who deserves so much more than I could ever give.

Two Sides Make a Whole

I must have Scotland on the mind because I made two recipes (see previous post for scones) in one weekend that reminded me of that fantastical, craggy place. While at St. Andrews, not only did I receive an introduction to scones, but also to pureed soups. Once again, my education began at Janetta's cafe (and ice cream shop!), where, as a server, my lunch was always complimentary. Each day, a three-foot pot sat on the stove around the corner in a tiny cook's kitchen simmering with a different, usually pureed, soup. The soups had gourmet flavors like curried carrot, apple and parsnip, winter vegetable, pear and celery root, tomato basil, honeyed carrot, yellow split pea, leek and potato...I couldn't choose a favorite. Each one was delicious and when paired with a buttered roll--sublime.

I have been trying to recreate those soups ever since. I don't feel that I have succeeded yet, and perhaps I never will. I'm sure a part of their deliciousness is tied to the very cobblestones of South Street.

When I saw this recipe for Creamy Carrot and Sweet Potato Soup in Cooking Light (can you tell I have a subscription?)--a spiced purreed soup that looked similar to my Scottish favorites--I had to try it. The recipe was part of a section of sides and starters. I picked out the Candied Walnut, Pear, and Leafy Green Salad to go with the soup, warmed some ciabatta bread and called it dinner.

The soup needed a little extra salt to bring out the festive flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg, and sweet potato, but it was well worth the tinkering. The recipe requires you to brown the butter after adding it to the pan--I can only compliment the original chef on this tactic. Browned butter is one of the great delights of my life--if you haven't tried it, you must! (I'm sure a future blog post will be devoted purely to browned butter.) I used an immersion blender to puree it, which worked beautifully and cut down on clean up. The salad was delicious as well, the best thing being the dressing. I ended up using brown balsamic vinegar because that was all I had, but it was still great! This dressing could work for other salads--very handy to have in your repertoire. To cut down on cost, I used only romaine lettuce and cut the ingredients in half to serve just the two of us.

So we felt quite gourmet last night with our steaming bowls of soup and salad plates decorated with glazed nuts and greens. The eating and tasting gave us something new to do. What a way to dress up an average Sunday evening!

A Good Scone is Hard to Find

I spent my junior year of college away in St. Andrews, Scotland, where I was introduced to "real" scones. Unlike most of my friends there, I spent my weekends working in a small, family-owned cafe called Janetta's. The cook/baker extraordinaire, Rona, made fresh scones every single morning, and I can still remember the warm raisin smell that would fill the place before we opened. I relished grabbing the huge scones with tongs, setting them carefully on the white ceramic plates, and laying down before the local Scots their most-beloved breakfast/teatime treat. If a scone was leftover at the end of the day, the servers would either split it and eat it straight from the counter or one of us would get to take it home. Sometimes, that was my dinner. Each one felt like it weighed a pound and was jammed with golden sultanas and dark raisins. Those were good scones.

It has been my experience on this side of the Atlantic, at least here in central Virginia, that most people do not know what a Scottish scone is like--its consistency being the hardest part to grasp. It shouldn't be chewy like a brownie (common misconception!) or light as a cake. It shouldn't be any sort of tough or spongy (a very, very common problem). It shouldn't be as sweet as a donut. It should, however, be somewhere between a biscuit and a heavy muffin. Scones are usually a little dry on the outside, soft and crumbly (but not dry) on the inside, and should have a little weight. A scone should be lightly sweetened, the sugar being a sweet discovery you make after the initial bite.

The best scones I've tried to make on my own are Martha Stewart's Cherry Scones. These scones have never disappointed. They're easy to make and are a good introduction to the art of the scone. You can eat these with the traditional devon cream, butter, or just by themselves. I suggest coffee or Earl Grey and a few good friends as the perfect accompaniment.

I made these scones this morning for Brandon's birthday breakfast. They brought a little bit of our history to the table--Scotland has a lot to do with why and how we met. We both watched as our baby grabbed pieces of scone with her two fingers, furrowed her brow, and crammed both hand and scone into her mouth.

Turkey, Take 1

On Sunday, I attempted to make Cooking Light's Classic Roast Turkey and Giblet Gravy because every cook, and every mom for that matter, should know how to make a good turkey dinner. Someday, I hope that I will host our own Thanksgiving meal, so I'd better start practicing now if I want to achieve that grandma finesse.

My experience was definitely a testament to doing too much and going too fast. The recipe wanted me to make the homemade turkey broth a day in advance. But Saturday was so quickly swallowed by dishes of past (made this the night before) and present and other household novelties, that I postponed until Sunday morning. At 8:30 a.m. I hoisted the turkey from the fridge to the sink, unwrapped it, wrestled the turkey neck from the bird's cavity (still a bit frozen) and yanked out a plastic packet of what I thought was premixed gravy (label said something about gravy). So, I tossed the packet, only to realize later that it contained the all important giblets, and threw the neck alone into a big stainless steel pot with hot oil. I was supposed to brown this for 15 minutes. The sputtering and spattering commenced as I held my baby girl on one hip and was soon distracted by her coos and arm flails and shrieks. Before long, we were both sitting in front of the computer staring at facebook when the smell of smoke started to tug at our noses. After only 8 minutes, I had completely charred the turkey neck. I put down the baby and took the pot onto the porch. Grabbed a towel and started waving it like a flag around the fire alarm. Thus the failure of step number 1.

I moved on. I had some chicken broth that I thought I could sub in for the homemade turkey broth. At this point, my husband Brandon and I decided it would be a good idea to go into town, get cappuccinos at Starbucks, and drop off some clothes at Good Will. It would be good to get out of the house, right? After a harried trip that turned out to be quite a bad idea (when will we learn not to take the baby ANYWHERE?!) with no cappuccinos whatsoever, I returned to my still smokey kitchen, exhausted, and feeling as though I was trying to do everything with one hand tied behind my back.

But then I delved into the real cooking. I had a blast chopping up the herbs and learning how to pin those pointy turkey wingtips behind the bird's back. I took fingerfuls of the herb-butter mixture and stuffed it underneath the skin. Cooking gets fun when you get your hands dirty. There's something elemental about shoving your hands underneath turkey skin and jamming in the shrubby herbs.

I thought my creation really was glorious slathered with butter and situated securely in my never-before-used giant roasting pan. I placed it in the oven and went back to baby watching...

When the turkey started to become golden, Rosie and I watched it through the oven door. She slapped her fat baby hands on the warm oven window and bounced like she does when she's happy. Brandon said it was starting to smell really good. Though we have many reasons not to call the apartment we're in our home quite yet, at that moment, everything fit together like magic. I knew right then that someday I'd look back on roasting that turkey and miss the feeling of home just coming together.

In the end, it turned out pretty well--even the gravy. I think I still have a long way to go before roasting the perfect classic, moist turkey, but this one still had its charm.