Here’s how it went for me the other evening: I had wild shrimp, garlic, and organic butter from mama cows who get out to pasture–but I spaced out the wine. Wine in cooking really does make all the difference, given the umami that it brings to food. So I zipped into a shop down the street, Blackbird Wines, for some white.

Owner Andy Diaz suggested a blended bottle from France’s Gascony coast. “They do a lot of fish in Gascony,” Diaz observed. “Their wines are perfect with seafood.” He was right; the wine was a hit. I sizzled up the shrimp in olive oil, added some smashed garlic, a healthy splash of the vin de pays, and a lace of butter over the top for those first all important bites.

Beyond the succulent shrimp, it was biz as usual with seasonal vegs: flash cooked broccoli with spaghetti squash and roasted red peppers–plus slices off the room temperature yams I’d baked the day before.

So it was that in 10 minutes I sat down to a seasonal organic dinner complete with a glass of wine that was refreshing, not to mention priced right. Thanks Blackbird. Glad you’re in the hood. Glad I don’t have to go clear to Tuscany…

As far as crust goes, it’s my usual whole wheat pastry-organic butter version at a ratio of one part flour to a half part butter. For this crust I used a cup of flour to a stick of butter plus a couple good pinches of salt. Here’s more on the technique if you need it.

On the stove at the moment is a clam chowder. Potatoes and frozen green beans from last summer’s harvest, fresh pulled leeks and carrots, and a can of clams. I even have a few leggy fronds of parsley from the kitchen window pot to add right before serving so it keeps it’s “somewhere-over-the-rainbow color” as I put it in one book or another.

All in all, not bad for the eve of winter solstice when it’s all we can to do keep the home fires burning.

Warm salads are another favorite of mine. Here I rely on garden spaghetti squash that’s keeps all winter in the basement or even in right in the kitchen–and is easy to bake. Then some freshly picked kale, flash cooked with garlic and red chile flakes. Dress with olive oil, fresh lemon juice, and coarse salt. Garnish with ruby pomegranates jewels and a polite chop of walnuts.

Pretty tasty no matter what carb and protein you pair it with. And it even works for the vegans in the crowd. Merry Howdy!

That’s why I’ve been smiling since watching Meryl Streep bring Julia Child alive once again on the big screen. Ah, yes. Wasn’t our Julia a grand dame.

And the Sole Meuniere scene. No way but that writer-director, Nora Ephron, would include Julia Child’s epiphany. That moment, when seated across from her debonair husband in Rouen, France, Julia Child tasted her first morsels of Sole Meuniere:  dover sole boned tableside and decked out in a buttery wine sauce.

It wasn’t more than two days after I saw the movie that I queued up at the fish counter. No dover in sight so I bought some cheap little Rex sole fillets. A quick dredge in flour (whole wheat of course, since the white stuff is sooo paste-y) and a quick pan fry. Then the sauce, which was the real reason for all this business. And I made so much of it that there was plenty leftover the next day to spoon on some zucchini.

Tak, Julia. Tak. Beurre Blanc made my eyes roll, too, right here at my own table.

You were right. We Americans do need to splash the wine about more in our kitchens–and get the butter out, too.

Olive oil’s good, definitely. But butter and wine? Mais oui!

At least that was the take home message I got from this latest film dedicated to your refined, magnanimous, brilliance.

Tak, Julia. Tak.

This slaw is out of Beyond Measure (page 139). I patterned it after a green papaya salad I learned to make when I was in Bangkok. It’s easy, affordable, healthy, and delicious–so much so that I’m featuring it in cooking classes this spring along with a hot and spicy shrimp soup, Thai-style.

Green papayas, of course, are plentiful in Thailand. But here, you have to go to an Asian market to get this exotic fruit. So what I’ve done is acted like a Thai would and substitute the ubiquitous, cheap cabbage for the papaya.

A couple caveats: when you use dates for the sweet instead of sugar, eaters have to get a nibble of date with each bite to make it work. My rule of thumb: when serving people who like to steer clear of sugar, use the dates–otherwise the sugar melts in with the lime juice more evenly.

Another couple tips from talking with Eldie recently. Do use a box grater to shred things. It makes the fine translucent bits that make this slaw a happening thing. Also, use plenty of lime juice–as in fresh. Like 4-6 for a head of cabbage wouldn’t be too much at all.I did this slaw with young girls 8-12. Without measurements, they started out very timid and slowly with just a tiny bit of this and that.

Then we’d taste and everyone would look at each other and say, “I don’t get anything yet, do you?” Then they’d go back at yet. We’d taste again. Etc. Etc. It didn’t take long, though, before the girls were proudly offering their well dressed, zingy slaw to people in the audience.

When Susan Coleman asked about my New Year’s food tradition I had no answer. No tamales like a proper Mexican madre. No black eyed peas like a good Southerner. Then I opened a Christmas card from my Norwegian relatives and spotted the word fiskekakker (fish cakes).

“Why not start a tradition with my grandmother’s fiskekakker,” I thought.

So I did. You can see what pink sweeties fiskekakker are. No egg or bread crumbs as filler–just a pudding of ground salmon and milk seasoned with salt and nutmeg, otherwise known as:

Paul and Susan came toting a salad that was made to match the salmon: baby spinach, feta, walnuts, and apple. Laura and Bill cruised over with a bottle of Pinot Noir. And Kristin came bearing these ruffled pink roses. Aren’t they charmers? So beautiful I’ve brought them into the office here to sit among my food books as I write this post and work on a syllabus for a food history course I’ll be teaching this summer.

But, I digress. Dinner was great. Simple and seasonal. Fresh and local. Affordable and healthy. All that and everyone looked so very lovely in the candlelight.  ~~Godt Nytt År, that’s Norske for Happy New Year~~

Longtime family friend Matt Loggins was here over the weekend so we grilled. It was such a snap.

I brined the shrimp for a half hour in salty water, made a salad out of leftover quinoa, garden lettuces, onion, and cashew cilantro pesto (Cooking Beyond Measure, page 75).

Other than that it was just making the rounds in the garden for squash and peppers–all of which went directly onto the grill without even venturing into the kitchen first. (They were washed well enough from the mornings watering, needed nary a speck of oil, and I had a pocket knife handy.)

Yes. From the garden to the grill. My kind of cooking.

Linda’s my new pal. She knows about computers and business and such. So what could I do when she arrived once again to help the cause, but offer a munch.

It was mainly leftovers that took me 15 minutes to pull together. Mahi mahi (because when I talked to Gary last week that was what he was making) and crook neck squash from the grill that I’d done the night before, lettuces from the garden, and warmed corn tortillas into which to fold the fish along with some blue cheese.

The usual suspects were there: fish sauce and red chile into the warmed mahi mahi, olive oil worked onto the lettuces with my hands, fresh cracked pepper, pinches of coarse salt.

Linda ate with the same relish I do. She loved my simple, affordable measurefree food. She can come to dinner at mi casa any time.

Speaking of the living being easy, you might notice the braids of garlic in the photo. I spent a joyful evening a couple weeks ago harvesting. It’s a first for me to grow a year’s supply of garlic and the feeling of provisioning the larder is quite nice. My braids ain’t half bad either for a newbie, don’t you think?

I bought some red peppers the other day. It was against my local, seasonal religion and all, but I guess I was feeling rebellious. For sure, the kale, spaghetti squash, and tofu dish I pulled together took on a wow when I added the red peppers. Still, I thought wistfully back to last year when I waited humbly and patiently for the tomato and pepper season. It’s true, I did appreciate the peppers and their saucy cousins way more when I let the anticipation build and counted the days.

So, I’m back on the straight and narrow. I don’t know why I was tempted by the peppers when spring greens are so very, very sublime. Absent is the strong taste that comes from mature greens. Ditto on the toughness. Spring greens are all about tender sweetness–so much so that they really are a different animal altogether.

All they take besides a minute flashed on high with a dab of water are some sliced scallions or green garlic and good oil along with red chile flakes for attitude. I enjoyed these greens with pan-fried Dover sole and leftover quinoa that I reheated in the hot wok once the greens were done. There were wedges of lemon to squeeze over the fish and greens, plus a little chopped parsley to decorate here and there.

As an afterthought, I also flashed some mushrooms once the quinoa was out of the wok. Again, it was a brief minute on high heat in enough water to help things along. I saved the butter for the end once the shrooms onto the plates. All that and it was still a 10-minute meal, clean-up included.

(The mushrooms were a real treat since I only buy the expensive organic kinds. Non-organic shrooms have some of the highest residues of fungicides and pesticides of any food. In addition to spraying the crop, the compost and sheds in which the mushrooms grow are treated as well.)

This takes me back to Bangkok where I watched the gracious Daeng Arporn Punlert make tom yam goong, or hot and sour shrimp soup, many times. Here’s what I wrote down one day while she was in action: