Put an egg on it!

Hand in hand (or should I say mouth to mouth) with my love of chicken is my love of eggs, the perfect food. I love eggs in just about any way shape or form; I love them scrambled, fried, easy over, coddled, boiled, poached, baked, you name it. Eggs are my go to food when I can't think of anything else to eat or when I want to make something quick and easy and don't need a lot of ingredients. I love to make creamy scrambled eggs in lots of butter and eat them right out of the skillet sprinkled with a little salt and some freshly grounded pepper...and if I want to kick it up a notch I may add some chopped smoked salmon and chives if I have them on hand. I love egg salad with mayonnaise and some funky mustard and finely chopped onions, sometimes adding cubed boiled potatoes. What's better than a fried egg sandwich with a little mayo, with or without bacon, or with or without tomato, or scrambled eggs with cheese on a toasted English muffin. How about a Spanish omelet with sliced onions and potatoes, or a French omelet with a mix of chopped fresh herbs, or baked with chopped chorizo and green peas. How about that lovely French dish of Oeufs Durs Soubise, or hard boiled eggs with onions and cream and good old Spaghetti a la Carbonara.The list is endless and always delicious. Or you can simply do as I do many a times when the craving takes over; just put an egg on it:

                                          Arroz con huevo or rice with eggs

                                          Pure de papa con huevo or Mashed potato with eggs

                                           Picadillo with egg over easy

                                          harina con huevo or fried egg on polenta

                                          Spinach salad with poached egg

I could go on and on and on in finding what to put an egg on. Max on the other hand doesn't get it.

He'd rather take a nap.

The City of Brotherly Love

For some reason I can't explain I fell in love with Philadelphia the minute I stepped my dainty foot in it. That was over ten years ago when we decided to take a ride to Center City on a beautiful Summer afternoon and landed right smack in Rittenhouse Square. The place was jumping, people everywhere and such a vibe, such energy...You may find it odd that I should say this considering that I spend the majority of my time in New York City but New York is where I work and toil my life away and yes, there's plenty of play there too but I've been there a very long time and familiarity breeds boredom. I run everywhere in New York because that is what I am accustomed to, being in a hurry because I'm usually going to work and doing things that have to do with work (well, not anymore...but more on that another time), the energy is stress. And while there are countless restaurants, plays, museum exhibits, bars, you name it opening up on a daily basis in New York I've done so much of it that it doesn't grab me much. Philadelphia on the other hand grabs me every time, and there have been many since that first jaunt. I think the first time we went was in 2000 or who knows maybe earlier but the one I remember as the beginning was New Year's Eve 2001. What an infamous year that was, in many, many ways. Personally it was our Charles Dickens year and by that I mean, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. We started out the year by, oddly enough, a jaunt to Philadelphia for dinner I can't remember where. We followed that by going to New Orleans for what turned out to be the first weekend of Mardi Gras and a completely crazy, wacky, decadent 3 days of unstoppable fun in a crazy, wacky, decadent city. We then flew down to Miami  in June for a perfectly planned vacation in which we spent one week at the beach and the following week at my Mom's house and did all kinds of great family stuff and I actually achieved, for the first time in my life, the PERFECT TAN which lasted all Summer long. That was the best of times. Then one absolutely glorious September morning the world was shattered, 9/11 happened and everything changed. While trying to grasp all of this, my aunt Tata had a stroke in November and I had to fly (oh no, not after 9/11) to Florida to sit with my Mom by her deathbed. She died a week after I left on December 5th, 2001. It was the worst of times. We decided to go to Philadelphia for New Year's Eve and booked a room at The Rittenhouse since they accept pets and we wanted to take TJ with us (he didn't come after all) and made a reservation for the New Year's celebration at Alma de Cuba. We arrived and the temperature dropped by 20 degrees but it was wonderful; the Rittenhouse was amazing and our room overlooked the park. On New Year's Eve day in lovely 17 degree weather Frank went record shopping and I just went shopping on Walnut  and then we met for lunch at Rouge, the beginning of another love affair. The world wasn't going to end, happiness could still be had. Since then we have been there countless times, unfortunately for them every time we go the temperature seems to drop by 20 degrees; sorry but I'm still going to visit. The year before last we discovered the guy who rents the houseboat in Penn's Landing,

where Max is very very welcomed,

and went there for Thanksgiving (try cooking Thanksgiving dinner in a boat galley kitchen!). So we went again last weekend and stayed at his other boat which had a loft berth that Max couldn't figure out how to navigate

and of course the temperature dropped by 20 degrees so we had to pull out the winter wear

but we finally figured out how to get cozy warm on the boat

and regardless of the freezing weather, the trees actually know calendar date and bloom anyway.

I love Philadelphia, it makes me feel young :)

Chicken Feed

As far back as I can remember whenever anyone asked me what my favorite food was I always said, "chicken!". (Except for those couple of years when all I could think about was shrimp, other post) Perfection to me is a lovely bronzed roast chicken, which is not as easy as it sounds. You don't just stick the stupid bird in the oven for an hour and go on about your business until time's up. No, no, no, no. When I cooked my first roast chicken way back when I was a newlywed glowing in domestic bliss in my little galley kitchen in lovely Ridgefield, New Jersey that's probably exactly what I did. I have vague recollections of going into hysterical fits when after setting my beautiful table with my prettiest linens and dinnerware and candles and then carving into the bird only to see "Oh no mother, BLOOD". This meant I needed to put it back in the oven for another who knows how many minutes until it was fully cooked, and dry at that point, while I sat there sulking because my little romantic dinner had been ruined. Then one day while watching Pierre Franey on his 60 minute gourmet cooking show (this was way back before the Food Network when chefs were actually cooks an not celebrities) he explained, and cooked, a roast chicken the way the French do it. I just jumped on that, who better to learn how to roast a chicken from than the French...and Pierre Franey of course. I then bought a lovely book, "Le Cordon Bleu at Home", which explained exactly what Pierre had. This way of roasting chicken worked very nicely. You start out, after seasoning the chicken, with the bird breast side up in a high oven, 425 F I think, and then after 20 minutes you lower the temperature to 350 F and turn the chicken on one side, roast 20 minutes, turn it to the other side, roast 20 minutes, then breast side up again at high heat for about 10 minutes. The chicken is golden browned and completely cooked through. The turning and flipping is worth it if a bit annoying since the chicken doesn't really want to stand on it's side. Then one birthday Frank gave me "The Zuni Cafe Cookbook" as a gift.

The roast chicken form the Zuni Cafe is, in one word, sublime. It is pure perfection, and it comes out beautifully and perfectly roasted every single time. Yes there is the "time" element involved as is with everything in this amazing cookbook. However, I have found that you really don't NEED to do exactly as they say, meaning the time element. Here is the recipe:

Zuni Cafe Roasted Chicken

Serves 2 to 4
One small chicken, 2 3/4 to 3 1/2-pounds
4 tender sprigs fresh thyme, marjoram, rosemary or sage, about 1/2 inch long
3/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 to 1 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
A little water
Season the chicken:[1 to 3 days before serving; give a 3 1/4 to 3 1/2-pound chicken at least 2 days]
Remove and discard the lump of fat inside the chicken. Rinse the chicken and pat very dry inside and out. Be thorough — a wet chicken will spend too much time steaming before it begins to turn golden brown.
Approaching from the edge of the cavity, slide a finger under the skin of each of the breasts, making 2 little pockets. Now use the tip of your finger to gently loosen a pocket of skin on the outside of the thickest section of each thigh. Using your finger, shove an herb sprig into each of the 4 pockets.
Season the chicken liberally all over with salt and pepper. Season the thick sections a little more heavily than the skinny ankles and wings. Sprinkle a little of the salt just inside the cavity, on the backbone, but don’t otherwise worry about seasoning the inside. Twist and tuck the wing tips behind the shoulders. Cover loosely and refrigerate.
Prepare your oven and pan: [Day of, total time is 45 minutes to 1 hour]
Preheat the oven to 475°F. Choose a shallow flameproof roasting pan or dish barely larger than the chicken, or use a 10-inch skillet with an all-metal handle (we used a 12-inch cast iron frying pan for a 3 1/2 pound chicken). Preheat the pan over medium heat. Wipe the chicken dry and set it breast side up in the pan. It should sizzle.
Roast the chicken: Place the chicken in the pan in the center of the oven and listen and watch for it to start browning within 20 minutes. If it doesn’t, raise the temperature progressively until it does. The skin should blister, but if the chicken begins to char, or the fat is smoking, reduce temperature by 25 degrees. After about 30 minutes, turn the bird over — drying the bird and preheating the pan should keep the skin from sticking. Roast for another 10 to 20 minutes, depending on size, then flip back over to recrisp the breast skin, another 5 to 10 minutes.
Rest the chicken: Remove the chicken from the oven and turn off the heat. Lift the chicken from the roasting pan and set on a plate. Carefully pour the clear fat from the roasting pan, leaving the lean drippings behind. Add about a tablespoon of water to the hot pan and swirl it.
Slash the stretched skin between the thighs and breasts of the chicken, then tilt the bird and plate over the roasting pan to drain the juice into the drippings. You can let it rest while you finish your side dishes. The meat will become more tender and uniformly succulent as it cools.
Serve the chicken: Set a platter in the oven to warm for a minute or two.
Tilt the roasting pan and skim the last of the fat. Place over medium-low heat, add any juice that has collected under the chicken, and bring to a simmer. Stir and scrape to soften any hard golden drippings. Taste — the juices will be extremely flavorful.
Serve on a warm platter.

I'll admit, I don't always (translation: almost never) start 1 to 3 days ahead so the chicken doesn't sit overnight seasoned in the refrigerator. When I have done it there's been barely any difference in taste. The drying of the chicken is probably the most crucial step in this dish. I use different herbs depending on what I have on hand that is fresh; which in the Summer means a lot of things so I usually use both thyme and rosemary; in the winter I use rosemary and sage because they are fresh frozen in my freezer and once thawed are exactly as if they were fresh. If there is any left over, it is wonderful cold or chopped up and made into luscious chicken salad. Or maybe somebody will find some pieces in his bowl.

but unfortunately not very often...

which makes him very sad :(

Greek chorus

We've been talking a lot about Greece lately. Don't know why really, maybe that episode from House hunters International where the couple that lived in Athens wanted to buy a Summer home in the beach town of Stoupa. The places they saw were amazing and the prices were even more amazing, so of course our little heads start going and Frank starts checking real estate sites. Now, are we moving to Greece? Heavens no, I've never even been there let alone speak or understand one single solitary word of the Greek language...as they say, it's Greek to me, Ha! We can still dream, can't we? Looking at all those beautiful stone houses on the Mediterranean which are probably money pits but who cares we can see ourselves there sitting on the terrace sipping some lovely wine, snacking on some lovely homemade hummus and tzatzaki, popping kalamata olives from our orchard while we gaze out at the aqua hued sea....Oh well, since we won't be doing that, at least not for the foreseeable future, what's the next best thing? Yep, Greek food to put us in the mood. And when I think of Greek food the first thing that usually pops into my little head is Moussaka, the Greek lasagna. I has so many things I love, eggplant, lamb, cinnamon, pine nuts and lovely delicate bechamel sauce.
So here is to Greece and all its tax evaders!

Moussaka

6 large eggplant (I actually use 4)
Oil for frying
1 1/2 lbs. Ground beef
1 1/2 lbs. Ground lamb
1/4 cup tomato puree
1/2 cup of water
1/2 cup of finely chopped onion
1 Tbsp. of Cinnamon
2 Tbsp. of pine nuts
1 Tbsp of Paprika
1/2 cup of parsley, chopped
1/4 cup of grated Parmesan cheese
Breadcrumbs
Salt & Pepper to taste
1 1/2 to 2 cups Bechamel Sauce (recipe to follow)

Preheat oven to 375 F.

Peel eggplant and slice 1/4 inch thick lengthwise. Place in colander add about one tablespoons of salt and let sit for one hour of draining. Wash eggplant well in cold water and dry thoroughly. Pour oil into a large skillet to cover bottom and fry eggplant slices on both sides, drain on paper towels. Add more oil as needed, eggplant soaks it up like a sponge. (this can and should be done ahead of time)
Season the meats with salt and pepper and braise in the water until the meat separates. Add onions and cook until onions become transparent, add all other ingredients except Parmesan cheese and cook for 5 minutes.
Lightly sprinkle the bottom of a baking pan (18x13x2) with bread crumbs, top with a layer of eggplant, sprinkle with breadcrumbs, add another layer of eggplant, sprinkle with breadcrumbs, spread the meat mixture over the eggplant, sprinkle with breadcrumbs and add a last layer of eggplant. Sprinkle grated Parmesan cheese evenly over the eggplant. Pour the bechamel sauce evenly over the dish. Bake in preheated oven for 40 minutes until light brown. Let stand 20 minutes before serving.

Bechamel sauce.

4 tbsp of butter
4 tbsp of flour
3 to 4 cups of milk
salt and pepper to taste

In a saucepan, melt the butter over low to medium heat, add the flour and whisk until the flour is incorporated and the mixture is smooth. Add the milk slowly while whisking until the sauce is smooth and thickened. Add Salt & pepper to taste.

It actually tastes better the next day when all those lovely seasonings have taken their time in mixing in...and it can be made ahead at a whole bunch of different levels. Like for instance, the eggplant can be prepared ahead and refrigerated, so can the meat. The bechamel is best made right before since it tends to thicken quite a bit; but the whole thing can be prepared and built covered and refrigerated and cooked the following day. There are endless possibilities. Then it can be served on the terrace overlooking the aqua colored sea after popping some kalamata olives from the orchard and having some homemade hummus and tzatzaki, etc. etc etc. We can all dream, right?

Zzz.

Life Savior

When I started writing this blog it was mainly as an outlet. I had just become unemployed very suddenly and without much warning and the prospect of sitting at my computer spending the day going through the job listings was depressing to say the least, boring also comes to mind as well as a few other choice words, but I digress. I started writing to take a break from the job sites and do something I've always enjoyed but was too bashful, insecure, scared, you pick it, to do. There was no conscious or coherent effort to make this blog about anything in particular. The fact that I write a LOT about food says a LOT about what I enjoy doing with my time which is definitely cooking, in the Spring (if I'm still writing, oh yes) it will probably also include gardening, something else I thoroughly enjoy. This is clearly not a food blog; there are a bunch of food blogs out there and some are quite amazing, I am not about to put myself in that category. However I write about what I love. So here comes the tale of Max, the one constant in this little story.

Long story short, or maybe not: On December 25th 2005 we had the unfortunate experience of having to put our beloved pet (baby) TJ to sleep.

It was devastating. We had him since he was 7 months old and he was 14 at the time. Yes he was sick, yes he had crippling arthritis and hip dyspepsia among other things and yes that night he started to go into convulsions but still... Anyway after a couple of years of being "petless" I started to get antsy and spent an incredible and probably unhealthy amount of time looking through the Jersey Animal Coalition's (local shelter) website and pestering Frank no end. Finally one day in April of 2008 he said "OK, let me see that website" and picked about 7 dogs to look at, including the 2 collie puppies I was interested in. I'll spare all the details except this one, when we walked up to Max's (he had the unfortunate name of Timothy at the shelter) crate and he jumped over to the door where Frank was looking up at him I actually heard violins. This was love at first sight and I knew then and there that the 2 collie puppies were bupkus. So we rescued (it is debatable who rescued who, my money's on Max) this 1 1/2 year old combination beagle, treeing walker coon hound, pointer, etc, etc, mix. and immediately renamed him. He took to us (Frank) right away, walked in the house and jumped on the couches, the beds, you name it. Training of furniture etiquette ensued, it has worked to some extent. He knows what he is allowed on, the couch in the TV room, and what he's not allowed on, everything else. Translation: He lies with us on the TV room couch while we're home and watching TV, he lies on everything else when we're not home or out of sight.

and he lies on Frank whenever possible

When Frank's 3 month consulting assignment with JPMorganChase came to an end in June 2008 after 9 years he decided to take a couple of months off and catch up on some software that he felt he badly needed to learn, therefore he and Max spent all day together. They went to the dog park, they went for walks in the woods, they played catch in the back yard, went for power walks, and just plain hung out. In September of 2008 the economy of the great US of A collapsed big time and Frank who has amazing knowledge and experience could not find a job. It took a year; a long anxious,terrifying year. It was a trying time yet we got through it with amazing aplomb. We woke up every day to be greeted by this incredible little creature who couldn't be happier to see us, he'd look at us with those big brown sad eyes and his tail would wag so hard that half his body would wag with it, he'd take his paw and try to grab our hand, if we argued (and remarkably we did little if this) he'd try and either sit on one of our laps and grab us with his paws or put his head down and go lie in his bed forlornly. I can go on and on and on. The last two years have not been easy yet we have endured, gotten through them, forged on, with an ease and peace of mind that surprises and amazes me since Frank and I tend to be pretty volatile people. I can only attribute it to one thing:

So why do I wax poetic? Why the corny sentimentality? Well this morning as I was getting ready for work and the heat was coming up the radiator in the library started to make a whimpering sound and Max went in there and started to whimper because he's sensitive that way. Last year in my darkest hour when I lost my Mother and the sadness was unbearable, he sat next to wherever I was and laid his head on my lap. When we drove to Miami for her funeral and stayed at my brother's house he was the glue that bound us all and comforted us one by one and we were able to smile.  I realized that in all this time Musing with Max no post has necessarily been about Max...or maybe they all have been since he gives me the gumption I never had before. He will not judge, I can do nothing wrong, he loves me and I am better for it.

Ice Age

This Winter refuses to let up. As if one storm a week weren't enough today's was of all things an ice storm and as far as I'm concerned there is nothing worse. Yes, sure it looks beautiful with that sleeping beauty quality of everything covered in ice

but that's just the problem...EVERYTHING is covered in ice. And if you don't have to go anywhere or leave the house for any reason at all, like say walk the pooch, well then that's just fine. But unfortunately that's not reality, we have to go out. So after taking Max for a very eventful and somewhat dangerous walk we slid to the train station and braved the increasingly slick sidewalk to go to work only to find that the trains were being canceled left and right.....So after an hour or so of waiting I slid back home only to find that everyone was working from home because WE ARE COVERED IN ICE

with icicles the size of 2 year old children dangling from our windows

and everywhere else around the house for that matter

and the temperatures are supposed to plummet tonight which means that whatever little bit melted will just ice over again. And it's only February 2nd and heaven only knows what that stupid groundhog did, I'm sure nothing positive. So while I toiled away on my computer chatting with people in California who consistently told me how bad they felt for us...yeah right! Every once in a while I snuck upstairs and hugged this

Hmm, maybe it's not such a bad winter after all...

...And we're still glowing in the fact that Miss Pickering came by for a visit; I do hope she brought The Hound

The Winter of our Discontent

...and the snow just kept falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

....aaaand falling

but some of us have no choice but to go out in it anyway