We are slowly furnishing our new house. Slowly because that is how fast our bank account moves, but also
because we want to buy furniture that matches the midcentury modern
feel of the house. Marcus' brother picked up this table, five chairs,
and a credenza for $60 bucks at an auction on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. What a great brother in law! The chairs came with revolting fabric (see photo below),
but they were in otherwise good shape. It only took Marcus about 30 minutes
to reupholster each chair. He's crafty.
Last Sunday, a handful of food bloggers traveled about ten miles outside of DC to volunteer at Eco Farms. Eco Farms is a small family owned operation that provides fresh herbs and vegetables to some of DC's best restaurants, including Vidalia, Citronelle, Bistro Bis, Cafe Atlantico, and many more.
My seedlings, the kale, swiss chard, Japanese eggplant, and Asian peppers, stopped growing. One day they said, we're not really into this: we're going to give up. Then they did. I think it was lack of light rather than a lack of motivation.
For now, mostly because I just moved into a new house, and because we are planning a wedding that's in two weeks (gasps for air!), I decided to down grade my gardening ambitions to a container garden. For now.
I usually make at least one rhubarb pie each spring. This year, I made five. Five mini-pies, that is. Making mini-rhubarb pies was something born out of necessity (I couldn't find my pie pan) that turned into a brilliant experiment: a perfect portion of fresh, rhubarb pie, any time you want. Just pluck one out of your freezer, pop it in the oven, and serve piping hot. Having friends over for dinner? Dessert is already made.
I'm not one for desserts. (There she goes again, on and on about how she doesn't like dessert. How annoying.) It's not as if I'm virtuous, I would just much rather eat a big plate of salty, crisp french fries or garlicky bread oozing with parmesan cheese. When it comes to the decision making around calorie allocation, I usually choose savory over sweet. There are a few exceptions, of course. I have a hard time turning down a bite of cheese cake. I also really like cannolis. There's nothing like a cannoli from Mike's Pastry in Boston's North End. I've lived in DC for 13 years and I haven't found a worthy replacement, leaving me with a bad case of cannoli nostalgia. (Careful, you can order these via the US Postal Service).
This dessert, a cannoli cheesecake, combines both of my favorites, producing what could only be described as the ultimate sweet. I couldn't say no.
How does a cheesecake become a cannoli cheesecake? Substitute fresh ricotta for a bit of cream cheese.
Dry. That's how Marcus described this dish. Me? I would have said, bursting with flavor, but could use more sauce, especially if you plan to serve it over rice. Do you see the difference in those two descriptions? One is short and, yes, it's to the point, but it doesn't highlight the positive. The other is a little more complementary, allowing room for critique and thus future improvement.
In her book, The Art of Simple Food, Alice Waters calls fava beans "the harbinger of spring" and notes that they "do require a bit of preparation, but their delicate taste and splash of color are well worth the effort." What she meant to say was: if you are making a fava bean dish, set aside an hour, be prepared for cramping fingers, and don't be disappointed when you see the scant fruits of your labor.
Holy cow, did it take too much time to prep these beans! I will admit, the salad, with the buttery, creamy beans and salty pancetta, topped with refreshing mint and lemon, was delicious, but not an hour's worth of deliciousness.
It appears that my swiss chard needs hospice. For the last week, my little seedlings have been slowly dying. I think. The thing is, since this is my first time gardening, I'm not sure. They're really droopy. But, otherwise, they seem ok.
