6160 A Diary of the Urban Gardener and Cook

While January is the month where interiors are assessed for functionality and possible improvements, February is always the month I stroll the gardens of 6160 to assess what's working and what's not.  The stroll this month, while productive, was quite disconcerting. 

A rigorous inspection today confirmed my suspicions - the very mild winter to date has ensured the plants are thoroughly confused.  Rhododendrons and Peonies have dime sized flower buds already formed, while Honeysuckle and English Ivy is increasingly changing from purple to green.  A peek into the herb beds revealed sweeps of fresh Lemon Balm pushing up through last year's dead foliage.  And winter has at least five to six more weeks... 

Oh well. 

While in the rear garden, little changes are needed this spring save for a shifting of the pillar arbor by the Japanese Maple Courtyard to the Clematis & Sweet Pea garden.  Windows need reglazing in the orchid house and potting shed, but that's maintenance versus improvements.  In the front garden, however, I will more than likely remove swaths of Bugleweed and plant about nine additional Bloomerang Purple Lilacs. 

Traditional Lilacs can be somewhat unwieldly - treelike shrubs towering over eight feet tall, prone to powdery mildew, and once-blooming.  Worse, when you try to trim/sheer/maintain them, you risk eliminating the subsequent year's flower show.  And since Lilacs do not change color in Autumn (they simply drop their leaves), that means traditional Lilacs are a once a year show (ie, sheer off the blooms by accident and exactly what purpose is that plant serving in your garden...). 

Bloomerang is quite different;  topping out at about five feet, they repeat bloom throughout the season and can be sheered to maintain size (you may not have repeat blooms for abit after the sheering, but you can be confident they will bloom again that season after a window of regrowth).  While they do exhibit the traditional Lilac scent, know that it is diminished somewhat.  However, this compromise is easily worth it given the greater resistance to powdery mildew, the easier maintenance, and extended bloom season.  The Bloomerangs currently dotting the gardens of 6160 have been a magnet for area hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies.  So this low maintenance option is loaded with positives.

From a renovation perspective, the front of the house has two projects coming quickly - one very simple, one not so much...  On the easy side, iron gate that cradles the Crape Myrtle as well as the old iron roof cresting that graces the front garden will be repainted and rustproofed a hammered silver (this will go well with the roof).  On the not so easy side of the equation, the 100+ year old front porch, which is now shifting and sagging west due to foundational issues it's suffering from, is now tugging at the very front facade of 6160.  As such, the entire front porch will be demolished and rebuilt this spring. 

Of course, if winter weather would just keep on at its current pace, the front porch could be started tomorrow...

The mild winter of 2012 couldn't last forever; sure enough, the February temperatures plunged from sixty degrees to ten degrees in about a day and a half.  Old Man Winter wasn't going to let us off easy...  sigh.

I'm not sure why, but I've always viewed Lemon Turkey Cutlets as a winter dish, so with the return of winter temperatures, this hit the menu rather quickly.  An easy dish to prepare and very aromatic, this entree is usually paired with butternut squash at 6160. 

You will need:

Seasoned breadcrumbs

Turkey breast cutlets (approximately 1lb)

Fleur de Sel

Course Black Pepper

Olive Oil

Minced Garlic

Fresh Sage leaves, shredded

Dry White Wine

Chicken Broth

One small lemon

Butter

1.  With the stove set at medium high, heat the olive oil in a skillet. 

2.  Cut several small slits into the outer edges of the turkey cutlets (this prevents curling). 

3.  Spread the breadcrumbs on a plate, dredge the cutlets through the breadcrumbs.  Shake off excess and discard the remaining breadcrumbs.

4.  Cook the cutlets until golden brown on the outside and no longer pink on the inside (about ninety seconds each side).  Add Fleur de Sel and Black Pepper to taste.

5.  Remove the cutlets and set aside.

6.  Add a touch more olive oil to the skillet, and add the garlic and sage.  Cook for about a minute, then add the wine and broth.   Be sure to scrape the browned bits and allow the liquid to reduce by half.

7.  With a zester, zest about a third of the lemon into the sauce.  Always avoid the white part of the peel (it is bitter).  Then cut the lemon in half, and squeeze the juice into the sauce.  Simmer for about one more minute, then remove from heat.

8.  Add about one tablespoon of butter into the sauce, then spoon over the turkey cutlets.

Enjoy...

Several years ago there was a wonderful French restaurant with vaulted, tin covered ceilings and seventeen foot tall windows covering a wall which looked out across a turn of the century cafe.  In the brasserie section of the restaurant, sepia toned posters of old French wineries from the 1920s covered the walls while a richly carved oak bar boasted a pair of giant silverplated espresso makers like something from a vintage italian cafe.  While the restaurant was reknowned for its desserts (like tarte tatin), the entire menu hit it out of the park start to finish.  Although the restaurant is long since gone (not sure St Louis' French cuisine has rebounded from that loss), I have never forgotten it served the best salad lyonnaise I've ever had. 

Salad Lyonnaise is one of the most popular salads in French restaurants and bistros. And what's not to love?  A simple salad of frisse, bacon, and a poached egg, with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, it can be put together in minutes and sits squarely in that wonderful, narrow category of year round comfort food.

You will need:

Frissee, six to eight ounces

Six strips bacon cut into lardons

Four eggs

Balsamic vinegar

Fleur de Sel

Course Black Pepper

With a skillet set to medium-high heat, add the lardons and cook until crisp. Remove the bacon.  With the skillet still hot, drop the frissee in and toss gently, removing quickly.  Add the crisped bacon to the frissee and set aside.

Carefully crack each egg into a small bowl.  Bring a shallow saucepan with three to four inches of water to a boil. Reduce to a simmer. Carefully slide the eggs into the pan of water. Poach for two to three minutes, using spoons to gently wrap white around the yolk.  Do not overcook the yolk, as it is an integral component for dressing the salad. Using a slotted spoon, remove eggs and place atop the frissee.  Drizzle balsamic vinegar onto the salad, and add a pinch of Fleur de Sel and Black Pepper.

The restaurant always served the salad with two to three sliced pears on the side (it really made a nice presentation; this of course is optional...).  Serve while the salad is still slightly warm.

If there's one thing you can count on in St. Louis, is that you just can't count on the weather.  Two back to back years of absolutely awful winters, and then this year - mild, for the most part, with a solid week now in January of fifty degree temperatures.  So... far from the customary shift into cold weather comfort foods, I find myself longing for salads.  In Europe, this little dish is served as small side to rich flavored meat dishes.  Whether sitting alongside a thick juicy pork chop or a sizzling herb encrusted ribeye, a rustic parsley side salad is a wonderful accompaniment.

You will need:

One bunch of Italian Parsley

Half a shallot

One teaspoon of minced garlic

One lemon

Shaved Parmesan

Olive oil

Fleur de Sel

Course Black Pepper

Roughly tear the parsley and place in a small bowl.  Thinly slice a half shallot and add to the parsley, along with the teaspoon of minced garlic.  Zest a fresh lemon atop the parsley, then cut the lemon in half and squeeze the juice into a separate bowl to form the dressing.  Add olive oil, fleur de sel, and course black pepper to the lemon juice, then stir lightly.  Top the parsley salad with shaved parmesan, then dress the salad with the lemon dressing.  Place alongside any intensely flavored meat entree and enjoy.

Laura Calder is my absolute favorite chef.  She really does make the complex simple, and where Italian cooking is, by and large, "rustic" (ie, simple), French cooking is not.  Her approach and lecture style put it within reach, which is nice for cooks like me who have little to no time for heavy, stylistically dependent recipes.

Often her recipes, especially salads and appetizers, call for Goat Cheese ("Chevre") at some point in the process.   To be honest, I have never eaten Goat Cheese as much as I have in the last ten to twelve months as I've delved further and further into her cookbooks.  And as I've gotten more and more atuned to Beekman1802 Goat Cheese (Blaak), it all just seemed to come together in an awesome Radicchio salad.

I absolutely love Radicchio.  A member of the chicory family, it is both bitter and spicy.  Radicchio is definitely big in Italy, where it is often grilled with abit of olive oil;  however, it's equally at home in Belgium in quite a number of dishes - so for me this vegetable is an absolute win-win...

For this salad, you will need

Radicchio, about a pound, shredded

Goat Cheese, about half a pound, shredded and/or crumbled

Golden Raisins, about half a pound

Balsamic Vinegar

Olive Oil

Place the raisins in a small bowl and drizzle the Balsamic Vinegar over them.  You want them well soaked but not "floating", so about four to five tablespoons generally fits the bill.  Set aside and let them marinate for ten to fifteen minutes.  Pour the raisins and vinegar over the Radicchio in a serving bowl.  Add the goat cheese, drizzle with olive oil, and gently toss (using your hands is best). 

Enjoy..,

Sometimes the weather just "speaks" to you and tells you need to start making a particular dish.  As temperatures wobbled in January from a high of 50 one day to a high of 15 the next, I can only assume my blood wasn't sure whether to thicken or thin (so I felt perpetually cold...).  And Baked Ziti began sounding better and better.

As a child, I recall it was hard at times to determine if we were eating Baked Ziti or Lasagna because my mother's recipe called for ricotta in both - it was only when you actually doing the serving or got the noodles in your line of sight that you could make the call.  When the only main variance is the noodle cut or shape, forget it, I'm bored...  So as I thought about Baked Ziti and the cold, I slightly morphed the recipe to something with a more unique taste (to differentiate from Lasagna) and kickup the heat ever so slightly.

At 6160, we are completely enamoured with Barilla Plus pastas.  All of them are multigrain - not whole wheat (whole wheat pastas make me feel like I've drank a six pack of Guiness Stout) and loaded with Omega3 (increasingly important for those of us who have cruised past the forty year mark and are thinking about heart health).  For this Baked Ziti recipe, of course Barilla Plus Penne figures into the equation...

You will need
One box Barilla Plus Penne pasta

Roasted Red Peppers (3-4 sizable strips cut into slivers)

1/2 pound Hot Salciccia

Garlic, minced

Yellow Onion, diced

Eight to Ten cocktail tomatoes, halved

Tomato puree

Water (as needed)

Two Roma tomatoes, diced

Olive oil

Red Pepper flakes

Sugar

Fleur de Sel

Course Black Pepper

1/2 pound Fontina Cheese, cubed

1/4 pound Parmesian Cheese, shaved

1/2 pound Mozzarella Cheese, shredded

Handful of fresh Basil

Italian Spices

Preheat the oven at 395 degrees and on the stove, fill a large pasta pot with water and set to boil.  Add the Penne to the water when boiling, and cook.  Do not overcook, and know that Barilla Plus pastas always have an al dente quality to them due to being multigrain (this is something I really like).  When fully cooked, drain the pasta in a colander and set aside. 

Next, begin browning the Salciccia in a skillet on medium high heat.  Using a wooden spoon, break the sausage apart into mouth sized bits.  Reduce the heat in the skillet to medium, as you do not want to overcook...  To this, add the garlic and onions, cooking just long enough for the garlic to turn golden and the onions to soften and become translucent.  Again, don't overcook...  Pour the tomato puree over this mixture, which will immediately slow the cooking process entirely.  Add a pinch of sugar, two pinches of Fleur de Sel, and Black Pepper to taste (we like alot of pepper).  Add the diced tomatoes and roasted red peppers, as well as two pinches of red pepper flakes for heat.  Drizzle a few dallops of olive oil on top and stir gently into the sauce.  it is important at this point to consider the sauce - if it appears too thick for your liking, add water or more olive oil to thin somewhat.   For my part, I've never had to add more liquids but it's all a matter of personal preference.  Finally, add the Italian Spices (go heavy handed) and gently stir into the sauce.

Take a rectangular baking pan, spray the bottom and sides with nonstick spray, and add a couple spoonfuls of the pasta sauce to the bottom of the pan.  Next add roughly half of the Penne pasta to the pan, atop which you will add half of the Fontina, Parmesian and Mozzarella.  Shred half of the fresh basil and scatter across the mixture.  Pour half of the pasta sauce on top of the noodle and cheese mixture, then add all the remaining noodles, nearly all the cheese (reserve abit), all the remaining basil, and add all the remaining sauce.  Sprinkle the reserved cheese on top of the entire mixture to ensure you get a crispy brown cheesy top, and bake in the oven until you see the cheese browing and crisping like pizza (approximately fifteen minutes).

The dish will look and smell phenomenal.  The Fontina is a wonderful melting cheese and combines beautifully with the sharp taste of the Parmesian and the mellowness of the Mozzarella.  The Salciccia ensures a spicy, meaty flavor with just the right amount of heat.   Often with pasta I recommend a loaf of crusty bread, but this really is a one dish meal to enjoy as is...

Thanks so much for the relentless emails over the last few weeks.  Yes, I've been offline for abit; while work has required a good amount of time closing out 2011 and preparing associates for 2012 objectives, I've also gone back to school for French language training as well as Italian cooking.  With a trip to Belgium just weeks away, the idea of becoming fully fluent in French became increasingly intriguing to me.  Further, with many of my recipes moving in my repertoire from "new" to "go to", I needed to continue expanding my capabilities on the cooking front.

If time permits this weekend, I'll begin filling the site with some of my newest "successful" recipes, from Baked Ziti - Penne to Lemon Turkey Cutlets to Butternut Squash Soup with Ricotta Quenelles. 

January is always an interesting time at 6160.   While most of my gardening friends have moved to "armchair gardening" (a phrase coined for those individuals who in the absence of the ability to garden at all because of the Winter season turn to reading about gardening to fill the time) we suddenly discovered that our kitchen project of replacing the old birch countertop with solid quartz was going to need to shift forward rather quickly.  Right after a wonderful New Years Eve party we found the telltale split in the wood by the sink (the sink and its constant exposure to water is the downfall of wood countertops everywhere...).  As I outlined the kitchen project for our contractor, the customary "while he's doing this I think I'm gonna changeout that" scenario began to take place in my mind; and of course, I began to introduce my changes before he even got started.  As such, the kitchen is already beginning to morph to make it both more functional and (in my estimation) attractive.

January is also the month where as Christmas decorations come down and the house returns to a sense of normalcy, the functional evaluation of the space takes place.  Coming right out of the holidays it was clear we needed yet more storage at 6160.   A key change many of you noted in the "Early Winter Interiors" photo log I started a couple weeks ago was the storage chest I built in the Living Room.  Its artistic "mentor" if you will was the milk crate sitting in the second floor sitting room.  What made it fun was taking a chain and beating the living daylights out of it to distress it, then decoupaging an old French winery label to it. 

While for most of St Louis' residents January is a month where cabin fever has just begun to set in, French classes, Cooking classes, and changeouts to the 19th Century Kitchen at 6160 have me completely occupied; to be honest, I'm glad not to have the opportunity to go into the gardens right now - at least I can stay focused!

So stay tuned - recipes are on the way...

With a trip planned this spring to revisit my favorite place on the planet, I thought it might be a great idea to drop in a few quick hits on why everyone should find time to visit this wonderful place.  Belgium truly is the most beautiful country in the world.  While many of the traditional European haunts have a negative caveat tied to some aspect of where they're visiting (common examples we all hear: I love Germany and London but...good grief the food...  I love Paris and Milan but... good grief they're so expensive...  I love Rome and Athens but... good grief they're so dirty...), there are no caveats to Belgium and it literally lights the soul on fire.  This writing could belabour all the winning aspects of Belgian culture - its food (imagine the very best of French food... in German quantity), its architecture (from Medieval to Art Deco to even the modern glass palaces of the European Union), etc... throughout many centuries (example:  the backwards culture of the Hapsburgs took a monumental step forward after Maximillian visited Brussels and Bruges in the 1400s and determined to model Austria after the beauty and wealth he encountered), but I would rather focus in a very minimalist sense on why I am thoroughly addicted to this tiny cultural powerhouse and let the readers' interest be piqued.

A country the size of Maryland, Belgium has over ten million people and is one of the most densely populated countries in the world.  Where situations like this generally lead to a sense of claustrophic trashiness, Belgium, by contrast, is a visual feast of meticulous parks and gardens, stunning architecture, amazing food and stylish transportation.  Literally - imagine breathtaking train stations that are hailed across the globe as architectural genius along with the slender, old world street cars that in America, we adore...  In fact, Lonely Planet as of 2010 announced that Belgium was the single most stunning country that continued to be criminally overlooked.  Which is fine by me, since I can enjoy the best of French, Dutch, and Germanic cultures at reasonable prices.  Where Paris and much of France feels like you leave wondering how many paychecks you just forfeited, Belgium is a land that leaves one stunned by the beauty but not broke...

While there, I will be of course be visiting Antwerp (Rubenshuis, the home of P.P. Rubens, has one of the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen), Ghent (Gravensteen Castle, here I come...), and the chateaus of Wallonia (the gorgeous castles and verdent estates of French speaking Belgium).  However, two cities (Bruges and Brussels) are where I plan to linger most.  Often referred to as the Venice of the North, the perfectly preserved medieval town of Bruges is filled with romantic canals, pointy gilded architecture, and amazing old world cafes.  Brussels, the captial of Belgium, is openly acknowledged as the most beautiful capital in the entire European Union.  Whether lingering in the Grand Plas (the central square in Brussels with buildings dating to the 1400s, and now a UNESCO heritage site), shopping in the Galleries St. Hubert (the first enclosed shopping mall in the world dating back to the mid 1800s), enjoying wine and beer at Le Falstaff (a 19th century gilded age brasserie), dining on Mussels in white wine broth at Au View Bruxelles (one of my favorite haunts to dine in), or strolling the lonely monastery gardens and decaying abbeys that surround the city (many of monasteries are also breweries - monks have to do something between prayers...), Brussels is a literal feast for the senses.  And let's not forget the chocolate - this is chocolate lovers' paradise.

And best of all, no car needed.  Every major Belgian city is walkable and compact, with wonderful slender streetcars for those times you need to get from one side of town to the other.  Further, nearly every Belgian city is about thirty minutes or less from Brussels due to the kingdom having one of the best train networks in Europe.  And just to keep it interesting, as mentioned previous the nation is known for having visually astounding, world reknowned train stations.  Antwerp station is considered an architectural masterpiece and referred to as "Railway Cathedral" - rightfully so, both from an interior and exterior perspective. 

So that everyone can have a sense of just how jaw droppingly gorgeous Belgium is, I've uploaded some old photos into a photo gallery.  Enjoy...  because just loading the photographs I know I did...

Christmas Eve at 6160, much like any other home, is filled with a number of traditions (albeit not necessarily "traditional" in the true sense of the word).  Some of course are carried on as family traditions, while others grew over time.  And one is simply a function of 6160's location (and is one of the oddest traditions I can recount for everyone).

The morning of Christmas Eve was chilly and wintery in appearance; blizzards tore a path from northern New Mexico through Kansas earlier in the week, and fortunately, shifted south of St Louis.  However, this did not look like the case as morning arrived.  Billowy gray and white clouds smothered the sky, with the sun being a shifty opaque blot on the horizon.  Thus began the absolute strangest Christmas Eve tradition at 6160 - the congregation of crows. 

Scientists are still unsure of all the reasons crows congregate in massive flocks, but throughout the week of Christmas they literally smother the trees at 6160.  Crows are viewed as one of the most intelligent of all God's creation, and the number one hypothesis regarding the congregation pattern - protection from predators and information sharing (crows are so intelligent they actually "share" information like gossips at work.  For example, it's known they share funerary information when another crow dies; M.I.T. and other institutions actually tracked crows "mourning" at places where other crows died - it's abit spooky.  Spookier, crows can answer "questions", if you will, in proper sequential order;  crows and their intelligence could literally be its own blog). 

On the farm back in the early 1980's, there was a crow that had been domesticated and escaped, but thrived on human company.  My sister and I had named him "Joe Crow" because he would wait at the bus stop for us in the morning and always flew there exactly when we were dropped off after school.  Its owners had taught it a number of phrases, my favorite being "How Ya Doin?", to which I always replied "I'm fine how YOU doin?", which must have been the reply the owners gave because Joe Crow would fly around us cawing and laughing.  He was an awesome bird, and one of the reasons I absolutely love crows.  So the week of Christmas, I always rush to the windows and garden when I hear the first sounds of the crows, and always toss leftover bread onto the Japanese Maple Courtyard for them.

Fortunately, the wintery morning gave way to a bright, sunny afternoon.  The crows had departed for Forest Park, as had I with the dogs.  While walking the expanse of the park in the cold, clean air is always wonderful before a two day cooking and feeding fest, the absence of snow tends to give it a somewhat dull and lifeless look.  Upon returning from the walk come Christmas Day preparations, which are incredibly important since Christmas Day entails cooking for family from 8:30am until 4:30pm.  With this much cooking afoot, preparations on Christmas Eve are key from both an execution as well as sanity perspective.  An old wooden tray with a French winery label decoupaged onto the top is brought out for Christmas Day "predinner wine", a custom that has slowly eased into other family and friends traditions (I continue to suspect they were just looking for an excuse to have cocktails before dinner like we were).  The cobblestone hued wooden server is brought out from storage and placed in front of the bookcases, with white stoneware and silverplated flatware readied for the Christmas Day dinner whose primary components are whole ham, butternut squash & pumpkin puree, potatoes gratin' and cinnamon glazed apples. 

Once 6160 is readied for the onslaught of family on the 25th, it's off to the Missouri Botanical Garden to look at the holiday display.  It almost always entails toy trains and poinsettias, but this year we were advised there would be a plethora of different evergreens as well as incorporation of flowering houseplants.  The display this year was fantastic, with verdant cedars ringed with white flowering cyclamen, as well as white poinsettia "kissing balls", a perennial replacement for Mistletoe.  There was even a train track set with miniature St Louis streetcars, a direct reference to 1944's "Meet Me In St Louis" with Judy Garland and Margaret O'Brien. 

Next it's off to 4:30 mass at St James the Greater.  I rarely if ever attend Midnight Mass, let alone Christmas Day Mass.  Midnight Mass is always hard to attend given the cooking regimen that begins just a few hours later, and Christmas Day Mass is too lengthy with all the singing (sorry Father Johnson - just sayin...).  Upon returning, candles laden with essential oils of fir, pine, clove, and nutmeg are lit throughout the house, filling the expanse with every good scent imaginable.  Way back on the farm as well as during my college years (where I encountered one of the most intelligent doctors I've ever met), I was informed to never forget the importance of scent.  A direct quote: "some of the most beautiful scenes in the world can feel bland and abstract in absence of scent; conversely, some of the most common and everyday vignettes can be transported to the sublime because of scent".  Every time we have guests over during the holiday season, I'm always asked for advice on their Christmas decorating.  My response is always the same - spare no expense on scent.  Williams-Sonoma holiday candles fit this bill nicely...

Because of all the cooking and feasting on Christmas Day, one of the longest traditions at 6160 is Christmas Eve dinner.  For over a decade the menu has entailed nothing more than freshly made Cioppino with a crusty loaf of french bread.  This very light meal literally bursts with flavor and is extraordinarily simple to make.  While in San Francisco the broth tends to be thin, I much prefer a thicker consistency where tomato feels more like a puree than like a broth.  Unlike San Francisco Cioppinos, those at 6160 are filled primarily with shellfish; on Christmas Eve, this is simply mussels and clams. 

The evening of Christmas Eve also entails the gift exchange with Bob (he can't appear to be receiving too many gifts in front of the family on Christmas Day or "gift envy" arises...) and old Holiday movie classics.  We tend to gravitate to the the original "Christmas Carol" with Reginald Owen, and this year appears to be targeting the same pattern.  Dating back to 1938, this movie has a number of incredibly funny scenes, my favorite of which is when Scrooge tells Marley (in this film adaptation only)  "well if you must be going Jacob... don't let me keep you".   Althought not really true to the novel, absolutely priceless...  It astounds me how many people have never read "A Christmas Carol" and just how truly dark Dickens' novel was (it was a ghost story for crying out loud).  What's even more interesting is when films try to move closer to trueness to the novel, critics rebel and state it lacks "the spirit of Christmas".  Maybe the critics should learn to read the book version prior to seeing the film - just a thought...

Christmas Eve ends with prepping for Christmas Day cooking, which in essence consists of two fairly large meals.  For the brunch, the prep work means french croissant-like pastry dough moves from freezer to refrigerator to allow it to rise overnight, after which it will be glazed with cinnamon, brown sugar, cloves, nutmeg, and a sprinkling of shredded pecans.  Mounds of oranges are left on a tray for juicing, which has to include pulp (for me, if there are no pulpy juicy bits, why bother with fresh orange juice).  After our trip to Rome back in 2007, we learned to appreciate Turkish espresso;  abit pricey, we procure it especially for the Christmas Day brunch (who doesn't need a great tasting start to the day).  Pots of Rosemary are brought down from the second floor sitting room to brighten up the brunch table, after which they will move back to the sitting room windowsill.  For the late afternoon dinner, whole boned ham is glazed with a maple syrup, brown sugar and bourbon sauce.  Butternut Squash and Sugar Pie Pumpkins are pulled from the bin in the shed and brought into the kitchen, to be pureed the next day with maple syrup and a sprinkle of apple pie spices.  Heaps of Irish potatoes are piled into a mixing bowl and readied for slicing into a rich and cheesy potatoes gratin', while granny smith apples are mounded in a nearby basket for glazing the next day. 

The Christmas Day menu:

Brunch

French cinnamon sticky buns

Scrambled eggs

Turkey sausage

High pulp fresh squeezed orange juice

Turkish espresso

Dinner

Stuffed Mushrooms with goat cheese, yellow onion and pancetta

Asparagus and Yellow Bell Peppers seared in balsamic vinegar

Whole bone ham with maple, brown sugar and bourbon glaze

Butternut Squash and Pumpkin puree with hints of cinnamon, clove, nutmeg and black pepper

Potatoes gratin'

Whole berry cranberry and orange zest relish

Cinnamon glazed apples

Chocolate cream pie

Raspberry cobbler

To everyone that emailed asking "tell us about Christmas Eve and Christmas Day", here you go.  And here's wishing everyone a safe and blessed 2012.

Happy holidays -

With the onset of Winter, reading seems to always take a hard turn towards classical literature at 6160. This year proves to be no exception. What's important about these novels is you can return to them time and time again and they feel as fresh as the first time you read them, with each new reading providing some insight, some twist of language, that was missed previously.

1. Fathers and Sons - I have five all time favorite authors (Honore de Balzac, Theodore Dreiser, Jane Austen, Ellis Peters, and Ivan Turgenev). This novel, by Turgenev, I have read countless times and am always reminded of the very first time I read it. Having spent most of my childhood in the 70s, I recall my parents endlessly discussing the rebellious nature of "my generation" and how the hippies, free love, and counterculture of the 60s introduced all this unpleasantness. Fresh out of high school, I had gone on a classical literature "tear", if you will; it was during this time I first read Turgenev. Fathers and Sons, written in 1862, was a total eye opener - this teen angst and rebelliousness my parents blamed on the 60s had been around time immemorial (maybe they meant the 1860s when Turgenev penned the novel?). The book is not really a trip back in time; it's far more relevant than many would suspect. Another plus - his style of writing is clean and direct.

2. Madame Bovary - as a complete opposite on the spectrum sits Flaubert and his most famous novel, Madame Bovary, written in 1857. While his writing tends to be florid and dramatic (he was notorious for searching for "le mot juste" which translated means "the right word"), from a sheer entertainment perspective one can hardly go wrong by taking one part somewhat clever slut, one part dullard middle class husband, and one part nasty blackmailing merchant and stirring vigorously (the book was beyond obscene for its time). Madame Bovary is one of those literary oddities where you really don't like any of the characters you're encountering and yet, you definitely don't mind watching the drama unfold. Honore de Balzac follows a somewhat similar path in his writing (maybe it's a French thing...); however, what makes Balzac one of my all time favorite authors is that he realizes how truly awful the characters are and ensures you are laughing along the way, whereas Flaubert tends to feel more soap opera. But I could use a good soap opera-like experience that doesn't involve a cast member from Jersey Shore...