At Long Last

I’m back.

I didn’t mean to be gone so long, but this fall was a difficult one. Though I wanted nothing more than to be here, it wasn’t meant to be—one thing after another kept me away…

There were problems at work, problems that caused me much stress and angst. Complications that drove me to distraction and made it difficult to see the big picture. At times it seemed my entire professional future was in doubt.

There was a debilitating back injury, one that made both sleep and work nearly impossible. One that continues to lurk in the background, threatening constantly.

And then there was a death in the family the day after Thanksgiving. It was the result of a supposedly routine procedure. It wasn’t her time to go. There's no making sense of it. It was painful and needlessly drawn out, just heartbreaking.

So I hope you can understand why I had to be away. All I can say is that there was a lot of comfort food shared with family over the past few weeks. I saved some for you…

Home Fries with Chestnuts
Printable Recipe

6 ounces chestnuts
3 tablespoons canola oil
2 large Russet potatoes, peeled and diced
½ yellow onion, diced
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Using a chestnut knife, cut an X in the cheek of each chestnut. Arrange the chestnuts in a single layer on a baking tray and bake for 25 to 35 minutes, or until tender. Let rest for about 5 minutes, or until just cool enough to handle. Peel and dice.

Heat a large, heavy sauté pan over medium heat until hot but not smoking. Add the oil and swirl to coat the bottom of the pan. Add the potatoes and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, tossing about 2 times, until crusty and brown in spots.* Reduce the heat to medium-low, add the onion, and sauté for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the onion is soft. Add the chestnuts and sauté for another 20 to 22 minutes, or until the potatoes are cooked through. Season to taste with salt and pepper, transfer to a bowl, and serve immediately.

Serves 2 to 4, depending on what else is for breakfast. Enjoy in the fall, when chestnuts are in season. A visit to the local chestnut orchard on a brisk day, after all the leaves have fallen from the trees, provided me a few moments of much-needed peace. Chestnuts are easiest to peel when they're hot.

*Searing the potatoes in this manner adds tons of flavor to the finished dish. For everything you ever wanted to know about searing, plus dozens of fabulous searing recipes, look for my book Seared to Perfection in stores now.

Chestnuts and Thanksgiving

Are chestnuts a part of your holiday celebrations?


For the first time, they'll be a part of ours. That's because on our last trip to the Hood River Valley the hubby and I discovered a lovely little chestnut orchard.


Bernardo, the orchard owner, was so welcoming and generous I became a fan instantly.


I don't know why we never realized the orchard was there before, and I don't know why I never cooked with chestnuts before, but I guess better late than never…


So I've been experimenting with different ways to roast chestnuts. I've tried open fire, I've tried the oven, and I've even tried the microwave (which until now had been relegated to melting butter and reheating leftovers), all with fine results. And with every batch, I've been noticing that the chestnuts are getting better with age—they've changed from crisp to fluffy and sweet over the two weeks since we got them. Apparently, keeping them in a paper bag in the crisper section of the refrigerator works wonders.

While chestnuts are popular in sweets and desserts, to my taste they're more suited to savories and for snacking. They make me think of sweetened Russet potatoes, so they feel like a natural addition to any number of Thanksgiving side dishes. Hence my combination of chestnuts, Brussels sprouts, and bacon.


Side note: For more Thanksgiving recipe inspiration, check out the cool mosaics on Pasplore. Somewhere in there you'll find a few of my Thanksgiving recipes.

May your Thanksgiving be happy, healthy, and delicious!

Pan-Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Chestnuts, Shallots & Bacon
Printable Recipe

6 ounces chestnuts
3 slices bacon, diced
4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter
1 pound Brussels sprouts, halved
6 small shallots, quartered
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Using a chestnut knife, cut an X in the cheek of each chestnut. Arrange the chestnuts in a single layer on a baking tray and bake for 25 to 35 minutes, or until tender. Let rest for about 5 minutes, or until just cool enough to handle. Peel and dice.

Meanwhile, heat a large, heavy sauté pan over medium-low heat until hot but not smoking. Add the bacon and fry, tossing frequently, for 7 to 8 minutes, or until rendered. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the bacon to a small bowl. Add the butter to the pan and heat until it melts, bubbles, and the foam subsides. Add the Brussels sprouts, shallots, and chestnuts and toss to coat with the butter. Season generously with salt and pepper. Transfer the pan to the oven and roast for 20 to 22 minutes, or until the Brussels sprouts are tender and golden brown. Toss in the bacon, transfer to a bowl, and serve immediately.

Serves 6. Enjoy in the fall, when both Brussels sprouts and chestnuts are in season. Chestnuts are easiest to peel when they're hot. For the best results, be sure not to overcrowd the pan.

Late Fall in the Hood River Valley

The yearly fall pilgrimage to the Hood River Valley to stock up on apples. I love it out there this time of year after the fall harvest festivities are over. The visitors go home, and a calm settles over the valley.


You have the fields and orchards all to yourself.


And of course, you have all that fruit to yourself. In addition to the countless varieties of apples, pears, and winter squash, this year there were new crops of walnuts and hazelnuts for inspiration.


Inspiration such as these cinnamon-scented apple muffins with walnut streusel topping…


Apple Crumb Muffins
Printable Recipe

Nonstick pan spray, optional
10 ounces all-purpose flour
8 ounces light brown sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 ½ ounces walnuts or pecans, finely chopped
2 ounces (½ stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus 4 ounces (1 stick), melted
2 teaspoons baking powder
¾ teaspoon kosher salt
2 large eggs, at room temperature
8 ounces milk, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 Braeburn apples, peeled and diced

Preheat the oven to 375˚F. Grease a jumbo 6-cup muffin pan with nonstick pan spray or line with paper liners.

Whisk together 2 ounces of the flour, 3 ounces of the brown sugar, 1 teaspoon of the cinnamon, and the nuts in a medium bowl. Add the room temperature butter and, using your fingertips, rub in the butter until the mixture holds together in clumps.

Whisk together the remaining 8 ounces of flour, 5 ounces of brown sugar, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. Whisk together the eggs, milk, melted butter, and vanilla in a medium bowl. Add the egg mixture to the flour mixture and stir until just combined. Gently fold in the apples. Divide the batter among the muffin cups and spread the nut mixture evenly over the muffins. Bake for 28 to 32 minutes, or until the edges of the muffins start to shrink away from the pan and a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean. Let the muffins cool in the pan for about 15 minutes. Invert onto a cooling rack and finish cooling completely.

Makes 6 jumbo muffins. Can also be made in a standard 12-cup muffin pan—just adjust the baking time accordingly. Any variety of cooking apple may be used instead of the Braeburns. Muffins keep well and stay moist for 2 to 3 days in a tightly sealed container in a cool, dry place.

Ono

It's Hawaiian for delicious. Isn't it a fun word?

Hubby and I just had our tenth anniversary, and we celebrated in ono style with a trip to Maui. During our short seven days there, we toured almost every part of the island and managed to consume more tropical fruit than we had had during the entirety our marriage.

In a macadamia nutshell, the food on Maui is pork, beef, and fresh fish—especially mahi-mahi and ahi tuna—with Asian flavors and lots of tropical fruit. Steamed rice and creamy but bland macaroni salad (possibly heavier on the mayo than the macaroni) seem to accompany every meal, including breakfast. A selection of noodle dishes appears on most menus. The fruity adult beverages are to die for. Oh, and Spam is ubiquitous, but we didn't feel the need to delve quite that deep into the culture.

Our first meal, at the local favorite Da Kitchen, was an enormous traditional Hawaiian "plate lunch" consisting of succulent and salty shredded kalua pig, pork lau lau, lomi-lomi salmon (more fun words!), brothy ginger-scented chicken long rice, and two scoops of rice.


We also tried a plate lunch with kalbi short ribs at Aloha Mixed Plate as we eavesdropped on the luau next door. By the way, I gather this sort of combination is referred to as a plate lunch even if it's eaten for dinner. We never did get around to tasting the poi, though we did see a number of taro ponds. As tasty as the plate lunches were, when you plan on spending the majority of your waking hours in a bathing suit, it seems prudent to partake in lighter fare…

And so, this was the first vacation the hubby and I actually spent more time on activities other than fooding.


We floated in the waves and snorkeled with the colorful fish and the graceful, curious sea turtles. We bird watched, and we were endlessly amused by the riot of birds in constant motion around the fragrant guava tree behind our hotel room. We explored the black sand beach.


And the surrounding cliffs, with their curious vegetation.


We drove the winding road through lush tropical jungle to Hana.


And marveled along the way at the beauty of the eucalyptus trees.


We pulled over to the side of the road to feel the texture of their rainbow bark.


To prove to ourselves they were for real.


We watched the expert surfers, wind surfers, and kite boarders from the beach (as we enjoyed an ahi poke picnic), but we thought the waves would be bigger.


We took in the views from above the clouds on the moon-like summit of Haleakala.


We daydreamed about the freedom of sailing the high seas.


We gazed at the sunset.


We gazed…


And we gazed…


And we gazed…


Still, being that we are who we are, we must seek out edible activities for our travels not to feel incomplete. Every farmers market—apparently a single roadside fruit stand constitutes a "farmers market" on Maui—warranted a visit, no matter how tiny or out of the way.


We picked up macadamia nuts still in the shell, yellow-skinned lilikoi—that's passion fruit and yet another fun-to-say Hawaiian word—for the bargain price of four for $1, mangoes sweeter than honey, and a juicy, just this side of cloying pineapple.


Three-bite, complexly flavored apple bananas were the norm.


In fact, I don't remember seeing a single "regular" banana while we were there. Coconuts were whacked open to order.


Cups of coconut water were free for the asking.


Addictive coconut chips, sold as coconut candy, were available in either sweet or spicy varieties at the quirky stand on the road to Hana.


The loaded coconut trees everywhere prompted my husband, with his ever inquisitive mind, to ask, "How many people die from coconut strikes each year?" There was also a small amount of foraging, as we passed wild guava and avocado trees in the jungle. Hubby wondered if they were growing wild or wildly growing. There was trespassing too as I tried to get a glimpse of the pineapple fields.


Apparently pineapple thieves are a big problem on Maui. Hubby yelled at me, insisting I obey the signs, but as you can see, I took my chances in order to watch the harvest.


One of the highlights of the trip was our visit to the isolated Ono Organic Farms. We were greeted by a lovely spread and the even lovelier news that it would be a private tour.


We did a tasting of all of the fruits that were in season, and we strolled the farm until a tropical deluge forced us back under the cover of the porch.


Between the farm itself and their roadside stand in Hana, we tasted fibrous mamey sapote, low acid pineapple, star fruit, star apple, white and strawberry guavas, both wild and sweet lilikoi, strawberry papaya, a new-to-me variety of juicy avocado, rambutan, longan, dragon fruit, pink and white pomelo, Apple banana (to our extreme disappointment, the Ice Cream bananas were not yet ripe), macadamia nuts, sour cucumber-shaped bilimbi, spicy Surinam cherries, peanut butter fruit, which tastes just like the name implies, and ripe coffee berries.


The guava was a revelation. We couldn't get enough of the lilikoi, but the star fruit was disappointing as I'd had better before.


I couldn't bring myself to like the papaya even though it was by far the best quality specimen I'd ever tasted.


Strangely, it smelled a lot like funky cheese to me.


On the tour, we saw many of the things we had experienced during the tasting and then some. We discovered that papayas grow in a very orderly columnar fashion and that, though they are easy to confuse from a distance, guava is a tree and lilikoi is a vine. Banana flowers and "hands" of bananas were quite sight.


Who knew sugar cane was so colorful?


We saw jackfruit (from which Juicy Fruit gum gets its flavor) as big as watermelons and softball-size breadfruit on the tree. If falling coconuts are a problem, imagine what a risk jackfruit and breadfruit strikes must be! We admired the broad, deeply veined leaves of a turmeric plant. Then our tour guide had us take a whiff of one particularly nondescript looking tree and guess what it was. I said cinnamon, and she exclaimed that I was the first ever to correctly identify it. I bet she says that to everyone because the aroma was unmistakable. We saw macadamia nuts and cashews growing and learned that macs must be dried in the sun before they can be extricated from their shells and cashews are poisonous unless heat-processed correctly. Most fascinating were the cacao pods, which mature from brown to pale blue-green to yellow and sprout directly from the trunk and branches of the tree.


Unfortunately I couldn't convince our tour guide to break into a cacao pod or even sell me one for less than $40—that's about $1 per seed, but we did get to try previously cleaned raw cacao seeds, which tasted remarkably like chocolate. It was fascinating, and if I ever find myself in Maui again, I'm going back to Ono.

In case you're wondering, the lighter fare that I spoke of we found at the small, out-of-the-way Star Noodle. The homemade ramen at this modern Asian-inspired restaurant hit the spot so well that we returned there for two more meals to sample the other offerings: tempura colossal prawns, steamed pork buns, sous vide rib-eye, roasted Brussels sprouts with bacon and kimchee puree, garlic noodles, malasadas, and the outrageously ono tropical fruit saketinis. The best part was that only locals and in-the-know tourists would ever find this place.

Also memorable and definitely worthy of mention were the guri guri, a frozen novelty in pineapple and strawberry flavors with a texture that's somewhere between that of sherbet and shaved ice, at Tasaka Guri Guri (70 E Kaahumanu Avenue, Kahului, 808-871-4513), the refreshing shaved ice with homemade fruit syrups—made right, not grainy and crunchy like a snow cone—at Ululani's Hawaiian Shave Ice, the truly ono tropical fruit sorbets at Ono Gelato, and the locally made furikake potato chips I picked up at TJ's Warehouse Outlet.

We returned home a little tanner, a little more relaxed, and a carved wood tiki salt and pepper shaker set heavier. And though we're suffering from tropical fruit withdrawal (going from four lilikoi to zero per day is a severe shock to the system), we are full of ono memories of our time in Maui and looking forward to the adventures the next ten years together will bring.

Two Dinner Parties, One Dessert

Two dinner parties in one weekend and I was responsible for bringing dessert to both. We were treated to endlessly flowing wine and grilled leg of lamb with homemade pita bread one night and a Canadian Thanksgiving feast, complete with a twenty-something-pound roast turkey (which I was volunteered to carve), the next. My, what wonderful, generous friends we have!

Needless to say, dessert had to impress. A recent trip to the orchard to stock up on apples and pears—'tis the season here in the Pacific Northwest—meant I didn't have to look far for inspiration.


My Chocolate-Pear Tarts would be good enough for both parties.


This is a dessert born of leftovers—years ago, after finding myself with extra chocolate tart filling and a few too many poached pears after a multi-day baking spree, I decided to combine the two together in one dessert. Whether it was serendipity or just utilization, the results were divine, and this tart has been in my repertoire ever since.

Chocolate-Pear Tart
Printable Recipe

3 ounces heavy cream
3 ounces milk
4 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped or scant 2/3 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1 ounce egg
3 Pears Poached in Port, at room temperature
1 partially baked 9-inch Pâte Sucrée Tart Crust

Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Combine the cream and milk in a small, heavy saucepan and bring to a bare simmer. Place the chocolate into a medium bowl, add the hot cream mixture, and whisk until smooth. Let cool slightly. Gradually whisk the chocolate mixture into the egg.

Pat the pears dry with paper towels. Halve and core the pears and slice them thinly, keeping the slices together so each pear half stays intact. Using a spatula, transfer the sliced pear halves to the tart crust, arranging them in a radial pattern with their stem ends at the center of the crust. Press down gently on each pear half to fan out the slices slightly. Using a pitcher or batter bowl with a spout, slowly pour in the chocolate mixture, being careful not to pour it directly over the pears. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes, or until just set. Let cool to room temperature. Refrigerate for 2 to 3 hours, or until firm. Cut the tart into portions and serve immediately.

Makes 1 9-inch tart, serving 8. This tart is perfect in the fall, when Bosc pears are in season. The pears may be poached up to a day in advance and stored submerged in their cooled unreduced poaching liquid. To measure 1 ounce of egg, crack 1 egg into a bowl, lightly beat it with a fork, and weigh it out using a scale. You can tell that the tart is done when the chocolate filling jiggles like gelatin. Serve with the reduced poaching liquid sauce from the Pears Poached in Port and lightly sweetened whipped cream, if desired.

Apple-Quince Sauce

What a pain it is when your better half has a completely irrational food aversion. It forces you to avoid certain ingredients or possibly even entire categories of food—food that you yourself might otherwise enjoy—or risk whining, countless complaints, or worse yet, “yuck face”.

Well, my husband hates quinces (and pears too—he says it’s a texture thing), and considering that we planted a quince tree in our backyard a couple of years ago and are now inundated with quinces, that’s a problem. Sharing the harvest with family and friends made a good dent in our quince supply. Now what do I do with the rest? I can think of dozens of tasty things I could make with these quinces, but I have to admit I’m never very motivated to go to the trouble of cooking something just for myself. So I determined to come up with a dish that the hubby would like too. I thought about making a quince crumble with a pecan streusel topping. But then I remembered he doesn’t eat pecans either…

After much brainstorming, a sudden craving for some comfort food, and the need to use up some of the apples from our trip to the orchard, Apple-Quince Sauce seemed like the way to go.


The dual strategy of diffusing the quince flavor with apples and creating a brown butter cookie distraction worked, Hubby approved!

Apple-Quince Sauce
Printable Recipe

2 quinces
¼ cup sugar
1 cup water
4 Braeburn apples

Quarter and core the quinces. Combine the quinces, sugar, and water in a medium, heavy saucepan. Bring to a boil and simmer, covered, stirring occasionally, for about an hour and 15 minutes, or until the quinces turn pink. Quarter and core the apples, add to the pan, and simmer, covered, stirring occasionally, for another 45 minutes, or until the apples are very tender. Remove from the heat and let cool. Puree in a food mill using a fine disc.

Makes about 1 ¼ quarts. Quinces have lots of pectin and turn a rosy color when cooked, so using them in combination with apples makes for a very flavorful thick sauce that’s a pretty shade of pink. Any variety of cooking apple may be used instead of the Braeburns. If you prefer applesauce that’s on the sweet side, feel free to add more sugar. Flavor the sauce with cinnamon, vanilla, or lemon zest if you like. There is no need to peel the fruit because the food mill will remove almost all of the skins. Keeps for several days tightly sealed in the refrigerator. Serve either warm or chilled.

Fall and Apple Cider

While it pains me to say goodbye to the berries and stone fruit of summer, I still greet autumn with open arms. (And while we’re on the subject, I just want to take a moment to say how super it is to live in an area that actually has four distinct seasons a year.) At the first sign of a chill in the air, Hubby and I hop in the car for a drive to the scenic Hood River Valley, otherwise known as apple and pear country, to take advantage of the fall harvest. The Draper Girls' Country Farm, situated in the shadow of Mount Hood, is the friendliest orchard on the Hood River Fruit Loop.


I hadn’t even started deciding between the countless varieties of apples when Theresa Draper, the owner, emerged to greet us. She may not know our names, but from our many visits to her orchard and her farmers market stand*, she remembers exactly how hubby likes his apple cider—tart. “They’re pressing the cider right now,” she said as if it were my lucky day and invited us to take a peek. You bet I jumped at the chance! (For the record, Theresa had invited me to see the cider-making process before, but you know how complicated coordinating a time can be…)

That day’s blend included lots of Gravensteins. The just-picked apples are meticulously washed and then chopped. The apple puree is pumped onto sheets of canvas, which act as a sort of filter.


Then pressure is applied, and out flows the golden liquid.


A surprisingly simple process—old-fashioned cider but produced with modern equipment.


Unfortunately Theresa would not let me drink directly from the press. But she did sneak us a sample.


A very, very generous sample. The just-pressed cider was cold, tart, and extremely refreshing, the essence of the fruit. To drink it was to gulp down fall. The Drapers do not pasteurize their ciders, so the fresh flavor is retained.

Too bad we came too late to see the cinnamon-sugar dried apple production.


With the cider to energize us, we headed off for a stroll through the orchard.


Then it was time for the shopping. I loaded up on Gala, Braeburn, Red Delicious, and Golden Delicious apples.


This, by the way, is the place where I learned that Red Delicious apples are indeed delicious. I didn’t get any pears because for some inexplicable reason the husband abhors them. We picked up plenty of winter squash too.


Perhaps there will be Butternut Squash Gnocchi and apple crisps in our future.

The Drapers also have a petting zoo, where we got a good lesson in manners. (Keep this in mind for Thanksgiving, as it will most likely apply.)


If the food is really good, it is perfectly acceptable to climb into the platter for choicest bits. If you’ve had a little too much to eat, go ahead and take a nap under the dinner table. No one will mind!

Now that the pantry is stocked, bring on the cold and rain. Give me space heaters and steaming soup, snuggly blankets, pajamas, and fuzzy socks, and mulled cider and hot chocolate. I’m ready for fall!

*We love to visit the Drapers in the summer for u-pick cherries, Italian prune plums, peaches, and nectarines. We also go for the cherry cider, which is so good you’ll think you died and went to heaven.


And no, I am not a paid representative.