Cooking with Zoe: Tomatoes Galore

The Farmer's Almanac, which I hadn't even looked at since I was a kid rummaging through my grandfather's ranch house curiosities but is apparently a regularly referenced guide here, tells me that it is officially fall now. The students have had their first round of exams, the leaves are changing color, and my tomatoes have nearly all together petered out.  

My first tomato harvest yielded this little salad with fresh basil from my herb garden. And as my father-in-law, who helped me transplant my seedlings, predicted, I've had more tomatoes than I would have asked for. He is a more generous man than me. When he has a bountiful harvest and winds up with more fruit than he would have naturally purchased at a store, he gives it away to anyone who will take it. I am a bit of a hoarder. So instead of sharing much of my tomatoes, I have challenged myself to get creative and find ways to use my fruit at a rate that keeps up with their ripening. I've lost one or two from falling behind. But in the process, I've made:

1) Caprese paninis

2) Spaghetti with tomato meat sauce



3) Pesto pizza with goat cheese, caramelized onions, chicken, and of course, tomatoes

4) Roasted corn and Tomato soup [recipe from the William Sonoma catalogue], good enough to make twice



5) Breakfast burritos [sausage, eggs, cheese, and diced tomatoes wrapped in a warm tortilla]

6) Bruschetta [I dice the tomatoes, add olive oil and balsamic vinegar to coat, salt, pepper (fresh ground if it's available), garlic salt (fresh garlic if I have the energy), lots of basil, and other italian spices to taste (such as oregano, thyme, a hint of rosemary, sage, and savory)]

7) Salsa, using this recipe from my sweet friend Jamilah:

1 cup red onion chopped
1 cup chopped cilantro(it takes a lot, you could even add more than this)
1 can diced tomatoes (I like to use the seasoned kind with onion and flavoring)
1 cup frozen corn
Salt, pepper

Combine in bowl, add white vinegar until the level of liquid is about an inch deep. Taste test.


Optional ingredients: fresh cucumber and green pepper chopped fine

8) Turkey sandwiches with sliced tomato

9) Chicken Vegetable Soup [see this recipe from Cooking Light - this was SOOOoooo good and surprisingly filling!]

And I have a few more tomatoes left on the vine, still ripening. Any more ideas for how I might use them? Not too shabby for the cost of about one good sized tomato and the transplant fertilizer! I feel like this if the first time in my life an investment has paid off so fruitfully. ;)

Cooking with Zoe: Simple Math

The students are back, classes have resumed, and I've pulled out a light jacket a time or two this week (more for inside the house than out, but still . . . ). Summer is coming to a close. 

That also means it's time to see how well my garden did. The Maine weeds proved a bit too voracious for this mother-of-a-toddler to combat this year, but I did manage to preserve the life of a few of my seedlings. I was able to harvest some beans, though not quite enough that I can think of much to do with them other than just eat them raw. Ideas?  I saw a few herbs through to fruition, including some dill, which I'd never seen flowering like this before:

I used the dill this week to make some tzaziki for some chicken kebabs. It was ok, I need a better tzaziki recipe. I think kokkari in San Francisco ruined me on tzaziki, theirs was so good that no other can ever live up to it. C'est la vie. 

I was also able to harvest a little bit of basil. And I seem to be having a nice crop of tomatoes coming along. Sofia and I planted these as seeds, nurtured them in our "nursery" (Sofia's craft table by a nice window), and transplanted them with the assistance of Grandma and Grandpa Reyes. We are very proud of them. Only two have been ripe enough to eat so far, but even if the rest get consumed by japanese beetles, we will feel like the summer was a grand success. I used one tomato to add to some scrambled eggs this morning. Sofia wasn't so into that idea, but Manny and I enjoyed it. For the other tomato, I put two and two together and came up with this combination:

+

=

The tomato was delectable, the basil was a bit too peppery for this use, but it was still fun eating an entire dish that came from our garden. 

Summer 2012 = success.

Cooking with Zoe: Feeding a Crowd

Most of the time, I prefer my social get togethers to be small, intimate affairs where good rich conversation can take place. But some circumstances just call for feeding a big crowd all at once. For me, figuring out how to feed and seat a crowd is super stressful. But perhaps the stress heightens my awareness. I was in the midst of stressing out about feeding a crowd recently when I read the story in John about Jesus feeding the crowd. 


Something I don't remember being taught about this meal, is about when this miraculously satisfying meal took place. Check it out with me, the book of John in the gospels, chapter 6, verses 1-14. Look at verse 4, the festival of Passover was near. The reason there are huge numbers of people around is because they've come to celebrate Passover at the Temple. But instead of going to partake in Passover, (the ceremony that remembered God passing over the Jews who had marked their homes with lambs blood in Egypt, sparing their lives when death passed by) they gather around to be near Jesus. 


The notes in my bible summarize this scene by saying, "Jesus replaces the Passover." Certainly I'd studied before that Christ was the Passover Lamb in His death and resurrection, that ultimately allows God to Pass-Over us, seeing Christ's righteousness instead of our sinfulness. But well before His death, people were turning to Him functionally as the Messiah whether or not they consciously understood Him as the Lamb of God in this sense. 


And more specifically, not only does Jesus substitue the event of Passover, these people came to Jesus instead of coming to the Temple. Check out John 2:19-22. In these verses, Jesus makes a cryptic reference to Himself as the Temple. I love how one scholar I read put it lately, the Temple [and Jesus-as-Temple] was the place where Heaven (God's realm) and Earth (Man's realm) overlapped. In verse 22, it says that only after His resurrection did this click for the disciples, that Jesus was the Temple, the means of access to the presence of God. And yet, this crowd that Jesus feeds, they go to Jesus during the festival that called for them to go to the Temple. And with Jesus, they eat. 


wo. 


Did they get it? Did they get that they WERE going to the Temple when they followed Jesus? Or was God just illustrating something through them without them even knowing what they were doing? Probably the later. Either way, that's pretty cool. 


Ok, now skip ahead to the Last Supper where we are back at the Passover, sharing a meal with Jesus again. Jesus is breaking bread and passing the wine around talking about how His body was going to be broken for them and that they should continue to take this meal and remember Him. 

1 Corinthians 11:23-26

The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, ²⁴ and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” ²⁵ In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” ²⁶ For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

Again, a meal with Jesus at the time of the Passover. Again, like in John 2, Jesus is referencing his to-be-broken body, Jesus as the Temple. And we have this instruction to perpetuate this ceremony in the observance of communion. So how do we put this all together, Jesus-Passover-Temple-Communion? 

For modern day Christians, the Temple equivalent is the church building. And for some long-time christians, or those simply walking in christian culture, the building can start to feel hollow. Maybe this was also true for Jews when Jesus stepped in. They'd been going through a great deal of trouble to construct this temple, and yet something was missing . . .


The five thousand diners probably didn't get it, but in choosing to gather with Jesus, they participated in Jesus becoming the Passover and in Jesus being the Temple. Jesus demonstrates that He is the source of true sustenance (John 6:26 "I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves") at the same time as He is becoming the place of true worship, and true access to God. And when the disciples participated in the Lord's Supper, they too partake in Jesus as Passover and proclaim Jesus as the true Sacrificial Lamb. 

So then when we participate in Communion, what is it we are doing? When we authentically participate in communion, whether or not we recognize the significance, we are a) loving one another, b) loving God, and c) glorifying Christ as the means of our access to God and true love of one another. 


We are joining with the saints before, the five thousand diners, the disciples, and the people in the seats around us on that given Sunday to worship God, to enjoy direct access to God, to accept Jesus as the sacrifice for our sins, and to realize true love. Most truly in Communion we become the Body of Christ, the Church. 

Church is not a temple building, because Jesus is the Temple. Church is not a religious ceremony, because being with Jesus has replaced the Passover. Church is not keeping our gifts to ourselves, because when a little boy shares his food, everyone eats. And when Jesus shares the food that is the sacrifice of His Body, everyone's truest hunger is satisfied. 

Church is not an individualistic spiritual experience*, because Communion, remembering Jesus, is "com" = with, together, "unus" = oneness, union; united together. It is in this togetherness, reconciled with each other that we are able to come together reconciled with God. 

Church is a group eating together. Church is Jesus satisfying the needs of a crowd. Church is where we do communion. 


Church is where we do love.


And when we do love, when we rightly do church, we are loving God, we are bringing Him glory.

Matthew 22:34-40

"Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?" And [Jesus] said to him, "'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it: 'You shall love you neighbor as yourself.' On these two commandments depend the whole Law and the Prophets."

Together, remembering Christ; Together, with Christ; 
Together, with all the saints beside and before, we are the Church. 

*a small intimate meal, if you will; though in Christianity we certainly have space for private intimate times with God; that's just not Church

Cooking with Zoe: Summer Salad

In the process of weeding through chaos in our backyard, we've found several patches where previous owners had been cultivating beautiful strawberry plants. Where I've been able to clear sufficient weeds, and the plants have gotten sufficient sun, some beautiful strawberries have grown forth. They are are delicious! 

I can hardly get over the joy of this unexpected treat. So to share some of that joy with you, I thought I'd pass along an easy recipe for a tasty summery salad that uses strawberries. This pun was unintended, but I learned the recipe from my cousin's wife, whose name is Joy. My recipe instructions here will be very loosey goosey, proportion as you prefer.

Ingredients:

strawberries, sliced
hearts of palm, sliced
salad nuts [such as walnuts or pecans]
salad cheese [such as gorgonzola crumbles]
lettuce [I used red leaf]
dressing [such as basalmic vinaigrette]

Directions:

Mix all the above, serve, and enjoy!

Cooking with Zoe: Mangos

It is hard for me to look at a mango without thinking back to my time in Jamaica, when my Rastafarian friends would eagerly yank one off a nearby tree, rip it open with their teeth, and offer it to me for a snack while we hammered wood together. That refreshing, smooth, sweet taste under the hot sun was pretty divine. I've been a bit obsessed with the fruit ever since. And with the touch of heat slowly making its way through into our weather, I've been craving it lately.

image taken from here

What's been even more fun than just the pure joy of enjoying the mango itself, has been introducing Mainers to their first taste of mango ever. Ok, Mainer, singular. I'm sure plenty of Mainers have had mangos, but you have to admit, it's a different climate from the Caribbean up here! But we had some students over recently and when one of them mentioned that we had introduced him to this succulent orange fruit, I decided that fact alone made the event a grand success.

Mangos are a tricky fruit, because of their softness and their awkward seed. I remember my mom once asking for advice on how to cut into it to serve for a dinner party, and my sister, just back from a mission trip to the Bahamas, offerred to help. She promptly bit into it and tore the skin away with her teeth, just like she and I had both seen demonstrated. Classy, Sissy. Classy! ;) Should you be sharing the fruit with others who do not prefer your saliva on their food, I would recommend getting your hands on one of my favorite kitchen tools, the mango slicer. This makes cutting into magos sooo much more simple AND sanitary!

So Handy! [click on the image to purchase one for yourself and give Emily and I a tiny commission :) ]

To keep on my kick of spreading the good news of mangos to even more of you, I would like to share two of my favorite uses of what is perhaps my favorite fruit.

1) Southwestern Salad Bar. This recipe came from this Best of Cooking Light Everyday Favorites book. It makes a great meal for a large group, especially where you might have a mix of people who are vegetarian or gluten free or just picky, as it allows for full customization. Basically, you get lettuce, tortilla chips, and lots of good mix-ins. Line them all up and let your guests fix the salad the way they like. Before this, I'd never had mango in a salad and it was a grand discovery! Other mix-ins include corn with taco seasoning, black beans with garlic, avocado in lemon juice, red onions, cheese, cilantro, chipotle-ranch dressing [ranch with chipotles chopped up and mixed in], and plenty of lime juice. So very yum!

Champagne Mangos:
SO sweet and tasty, but too small
to be worth it when
you are making a huge salad!

Better meat to effort ratio!

2) Zesty Fruit Salad. This is a Reyes family favorite. And I always over-do it when I make it. Again, quite simple. Basically, pick a handful of fruits you enjoy together, chop and mix them up. Then drizzle honey, brown sugar, lime zest, and lime juice on top and mix it all together. Most recently, I did this with apples, grapes, kiwi, pineapple, and of course, Mangos. It's amazing how much the little hidden additions to the fruits liven things up. My common mistake is to make this for a party and buy all the fruit at Cosco/Sams, and wind up with enough fruit salad to feed and army ten times over, I just get too excited. My most recent mistake was buying a whole box [15] of champagne mangos. For one salad. It took me about two hours to get a decent amount of fruit out of those mangos, and that was while resisting the temptation to suck all the spare fruit off the skins. I hate to think about how much good fruit was lost! Instead, I would recommend picking out a few of the larger variety instead.

[Best of Year One] Cooking with Zoe: A Letter to my Love

[originally posted FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2012]

Dear Husband,


Standing with our backs facing each other, I wanted to tell you how much I missed this, cooking together. Me with stinging eyes, crying over onions, you with diligent hands, stirring the chicken. The scent of ginger and garlic, and the sound of music playing while we silently work. The brush of your arm against my arm as we swirl around each other in this culinary dance. Occasionally we turn and glance at each other, we steal a kiss. We share a taste of what we are creating together. 


We used to have this every night, this meal we prepared for each other. And I wanted to tell you how many together-things I missed doing with you since Sofia came. Lounging in bed in the morning, talking as long as we choose. Holding hands in a movie theater. Losing ourselves in the obsession of a video game until our eyes gave out or our stomachs cry too loud. Walking side by side under the stars, feeling open and free. 


But it didn't feel quite true. 


Missing things felt like declaring there was an unfilled hole, a vacancy in our love. And while it was a warm comfort to return to this act of communion after so many months past, the new things we do together bring me joy too, so much joy that I'm not ready to trade back just yet. 


You're still there when I cook, but now you are in and out of the kitchen, running before or behind our not-so-toddling-toddler. You are on the floor identifying objects of her  constant pointing. You are grasping her away from her incessant attempts to touch the oven. You are still present at my back, but she is in you arms, nuzzling her head under your chin. 

My mother taught me the art of breathing in relaxation in the kitchen, and you are teaching me the art of breathing out the joy of my family in the very same place. Breath in the wafting smells of spices and herbs, laugh out the the surprise of her new word so exuberantly expressed. Breath in the steam from a boiling pot, breath out a sigh of wonder at the tenderness with which she caresses your face. 

This is a life filled with abundance. This is sweet sustenance. This is love boiling over.


The time will come again when we cook together day in and day out. And that time will be a sweet return. And for today, I am ok that we have a new flavor of love to share. What we are creating together now, this life, it sure tastes good. 

In this special season of life, my love, I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.


Love,
your wife

Cooking with Zoe: A Good Meal

"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you; abide in my love.

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you." 

~John 15:9, 12

I remember. 
I was a little girl, legs bare under my Sunday dress after ripping off tights that made my skin itch, running bare foot along rows of black leather cushions on fold out chairs linked by metal hooks on either side. Chasing or being chased by my friends, maybe Joy, maybe Jennifer, Allison or Melissa, we giggled and squealed up and down those ailes. From the rings on the back of chairs, underneath the seats, strewn hither and thither on the carpet, I would collect those little plastic cups, gather them up into heaping stacks. I would bring them home and stash them in the window seat in my room. Running my finger around that small little rim, round and round. I collected and collected a mountain of cups, always looking for an opportunity to put them to another use, not willing to believe they were just trash, certain they were treasures worth being repurposed. 
Abide in my love. 

I remember.
A dark gym, music blaring over a stereo, people milling about, catching up, laughing, hands patting on backs. Band members breaking down equipment, congregants folding up chairs, children running around underfoot. Between trips from the rows of chairs dwindling down to the stacked chairs building up, I would dodge to the table with the left over bread and wine. Such good, fresh, bread. Over and over, I snatch just one more bite.
Abide in my love.

I remember.
I was one nervous WASP amongst many brown, Sri Lankan catholics. I knew full well that to take participate, one needed to be catholic, which I never have been. So in attempts to juggle multiple layers of cultural sensitivity, I sat still and quiet, trying not to look too awkward, as my host family rose and proceeded forward. But my host mother turned around to me with a reprimanding smile, "We are all one. Come. Break bread with us."
Abide in my love. 

I remember.
Just barely. So much a daze from the whirl of a day all in white. Eyes locked on my groom, a crowd of people seated behind us, as our pastor says, "take, drink, eat." We begin, our first taste of food and drink as one, in the food and drink that binds.
Abide in my love.

I remember.
Eyes free to roam around that theater, as heads were bowed in contemplation. There is the one who bore his soul to us this week, there is the one who asked us to a meal, there is the one we knew before he was born, the one whose hand I grasped, the one I do not know, the one who makes me laugh, the one who makes me think, the one that is hard to love, the one whose music makes me smile. "His body. Broken for you." One by one they approach, our eyes lock, I am filled with love for them, I praise God for them.
Abide in my love. 

I remember.
He took. He thanked. He broke. He gave. He said, "This is My body, which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me." (Matthew 26:26-28; Mark 14:22-24)
Abide in my love. 

I remember.
That night He would be betrayed. "This cup is the new covenant in My blood. This do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me." A new passing over. The sign and seal of the sacrificial lamb is that we share together in His death, that we love one another, that we are united in the covenant that is the promise of His and our coming new life.
Abide in my love. 

But I did not realize. I did not remember.

He did not drink with them. He poured out the drink, to be divided among them. He did not drink. "I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes" (Luke 22:17-20).

We remember, that we might bear the fruit of the vine, the fruit of love, the cup that he will drink when he comes again in glory. We abide in Him, He abides in us. We are growing for a feast, a sweetest drink. This communion, this life together, this love.

I remember. 
He is the vine, we are the branches. (John 15) Abide in Him, together.
Abide in His love.

--
Dear Lobsters, on this Good Friday, the remembrance of the first communion meal, would you share with me some of your significant experiences with communion?

Cooking with Zoe: Mama's had a day

I can not say I have ever understood the concept of "retail therapy." Much of what brought Emily and I together when we first met was that we were not "girly girls." So while she has saved more than once in my life from a fiasco, with a successful shopping spree, we were not exactly the types to spend our free time together perusing clothes racks and giggling over accessories downtown, we would have rather spent out time at Borders. [which is sadly now a Marshalls. so depressing.]

But last week, I was having a really rough day. I've been having lots of rough days lately. Sofia has four canine teeth forcing their way through right now and I fear this process may end up being the death of me. I felt a sense of utter despair last week when on top of the rough day, I had also managed to overlook some key ingredients for the last two meals I was going to make for the week when I'd sent Manny out on our grocery run. Without them, I was not going to be able to make dinner. So with fussing babe and hair spazzing every which way (Sofia's and mine by the way), I had to brave it and get myself to the store.

But wouldn't you know it, Sofia was so distracted by all the people and interesting things to look at and touch, that she calmed down (mostly). I was able to get what I needed, giving me a sense of not only accomplishment, but  also triumph over adversity. And we bumped into a friend here and there. And as I went along, filling my basket with the items on my list, I might have also snagged some cornbread mix because Manny loves some good cornbread to go with his chili, and I felt all kinds of warm fuzzies inside for my sweetheart at the thought of surprising him with this treat. And I may have snagged some danishes for myself, which I never ever do, but "Mama's had a day."And the employees at the store just gushed over how cute my baby girl is, and she just ate up their attention, and we all laughed at the preciousness.

And there it was, group giggling. I realized that I'd entered the store with a head clouded and tangled with frustration and hopelessness, but there I was, on my way out the doors, not only having survived, but transforming into a whole new me with a clear head and smile on my face and a good bit less frustration with my daughter's growing skeletal system.

Could it be? Had I just benefited from retail therapy? I indeed was a few bucks lighter than when I'd come in, pushing myself just a bit over budget. I believe so, my friends. Retail therapy had finally worked for me. Those danishes may not have helped me look any bit cuter the next day, but mmmmmm, they sure tasted good!

Cooking with Zoe: A letter to my love

Dear Husband,


Standing with our backs facing each other, I wanted to tell you how much I missed this, cooking together. Me with stinging eyes, crying over onions, you with diligent hands, stirring the chicken. The scent of ginger and garlic, and the sound of music playing while we silently work. The brush of your arm against my arm as we swirl around each other in this culinary dance. Occasionally we turn and glance at each other, we steal a kiss. We share a taste of what we are creating together. 


We used to have this every night, this meal we prepared for each other. And I wanted to tell you how many together-things I missed doing with you since Sofia came. Lounging in bed in the morning, talking as long as we choose. Holding hands in a movie theater. Losing ourselves in the obsession of a video game until our eyes gave out or our stomachs cry too loud. Walking side by side under the stars, feeling open and free. 


But it didn't feel quite true. 


Missing things felt like declaring there was an unfilled hole, a vacancy in our love. And while it was a warm comfort to return to this act of communion after so many months past, the new things we do together bring me joy too, so much joy that I'm not ready to trade back just yet. 


You're still there when I cook, but now you are in and out of the kitchen, running before or behind our not-so-toddling-toddler. You are on the floor identifying objects of her  constant pointing. You are grasping her away from her incessant attempts to touch the oven. You are still present at my back, but she is in you arms, nuzzling her head under your chin. 

My mother taught me the art of breathing in relaxation in the kitchen, and you are teaching me the art of breathing out the joy of my family in the very same place. Breath in the wafting smells of spices and herbs, laugh out the the surprise of her new word so exuberantly expressed. Breath in the steam from a boiling pot, breath out a sigh of wonder at the tenderness with which she caresses your face. 

This is a life filled with abundance. This is sweet sustenance. This is love boiling over.


The time will come again when we cook together day in and day out. And that time will be a sweet return. And for today, I am ok that we have a new flavor of love to share. What we are creating together now, this life, it sure tastes good. 

In this special season of life, my love, I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.


Love,
your wife

Cooking with Zoe: mmmmm . . . Pizza!

Oh how my husband does love a good pizza! Our first date, our first valentine's day, countless anniversaries and birthdays were all spent at California Pizza Kitchen. We love scoping out a good pizza place wherever we move too. In Berkeley, it was Zachary's, in San Diego we loved Regents Pizza, and now in Maine, we're big fans of Flipside. But I've also been having great fun, and even success with making pizza at home more often. 

I've been known to make my dough from scratch, but with an infant to juggle, I'm enjoying the option to buy that bit ready made. One of my recent concoctions ended up being so unlike anything I'd ever tasted before, I felt like it might be worth throwing it out there for you to consider testing out for yourself! 

Spinach Salad Pizza

Ingredients:

Pizza dough or pre-made crust

4 bacon slices, chopped

5 ounces fresh spinach

2 cups sliced onion

1 tomato diced

4 ounces crumbled goat cheese

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

2 teaspoons sugar

1 tablespoon butter

3 tablespoons flour

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 cup milk

1 tablespoon cornmeal

1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Preparation:

1) Preheat Oven to 475 degrees.

2) Cook bacon in large nonstick skillet over medium heat until crisp. 

3) While the bacon is cooking, sprinkle cornmeal on your pizza stone or cookie sheet and spread your dough out over it into your desired pizza shape [circle or rectangle or other?], crimping edges with fingers to form a rim. 

4) Remove bacon from pan and set aside, reserving drippings. 

5) Add spinach to drippings in pan, saute 2 minutes or until wilted. Place spinach in a colander or on a paper towel, pressing until barely moist [that one's for you, Emily ;)]. 

6) Add onion and 2 teaspoons sugar to pan, cooking 12 minutes or until golden brown, stirring frequently. Remove from heat and cool.

7) While onion is cooking, dice the tomato and toss with balsamic vinegar in a small bowl.

8) Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add garlic; cook two minutes, stirring frequently. Add three tablespoons four and pepper, stirring with a whisk; cook 30 seconds. Gradually add milk, stirring constantly with a whisk. Cook 5 minutes or until thick and bubbly, stirring constantly with a whisk. [this step borrowed from Cooking Light, April 2003, Spinach, Caramelized Onion, and Bacon Pizza recipe]

9) Spread milk mixture evenly over dough. Top with spinach, tomato, and onion, drizzle with extra balsamic vinegar if desired. Bake for 20 minutes. Remove pizza from oven, sprinkle with bacon, goat cheese, and lastly Parmesan on top. Bake an additional five minutes or until golden brown. 

10) Eat up!

Cooking with Zoe: A good book

I recently joined a book club in order to get to know some new women in town. The women I have met so far have been really great. The books we read for my first meeting, not so great. [Not My Daughter and Invisible Lives] And to add to my sad reading woes, the Borders in town was closing just as we arrived. The nice part about that was that they had some killer deals, and the compulsive-book-buyer in me got carried away. I found a little gem in that process and just have to share:



Cooking for Gracie: The Making of a Parent from Scratch

I love food, I love cooking, and I am living the first year of my first child's life. This book was totally targeted to someone like me [and you? anyone?]. It is the story of a father's first year, month by month, with his baby girl, born premature by about five weeks. I have enough friends who have given birth to babies premature for this to hit home. Despite the challenging weight of raising a premie in the first year, the book overall is delightfully upbeat. His passion [not job] was cooking, and he gradually learns to help his passion serve his new role and the new little person in his life, instead of resenting his child for getting in the way of his passion.


A few things I enjoyed about this book:


1) Honest struggles in the kitchen, not totally unlike Julie and Julia. Everything from straight up recipe challenges, to figuring out how to cook for company, and the obvious challenge of cooking with an infant around.


2) Hearing about the first year of a baby's life from the dad's perspective. I follow plenty of moms through blogs and have lots of mom friends, but don't have many guys I spend much time talking to about infant stuff [missing my community group dad friends, Paul and Adam - you two are great dads! they were fun to go through pregnancy and the first few months of pregnancy with, not just because their wives are so cool]. It was refreshing and eye opening to know what the other side of this equation feels like.


3) Simple lessons. Dixon definitely had opportunities to take himself too seriously, but there was such a nice, approachable tone to the whole book. He shared some insightful lessons, but not as if they were profound golden nuggets from on high, just a guy ambling through this new beautiful chapter of life. As someone who all too often takes herself too seriously, it was good to have a nice example to model myself after! Also, he didn't go on and on. The book is short, the chapters are quick [and half of the chapter is a handful of recipes for that month - many of which I am interested in trying]. It made for a great read for this chapter of my life, when I need something I can pick up and put down and enjoy each time, instead of spending the precious little reading time I have trying to get back into something too dense or complicated.


A hearty one claw up, Lobsters. Check it out and let me know if you like it! Especially you Daddy Lobsters out there - tell me, does he get it right?

Eating With Zoe: Thanksgiving Edition

Happy Thanksgiving, Lobsters!

I know, I know, food from me twice in one week. But, cummon Lobsters! It is Thanksgiving! What did you expect? Ok, but this time, I'm going to get a little bit creative with the concept of "eating with zoe." Being Thanksgiving, I would like to recount my gratitude in the form of a menu. May this send you peacefully into your Thanksgiving Day coma . . .

photo taken from Food and Wine

Thanksgiving Day Breakfast: perhaps an oft neglected element of a Thanksgiving Day menu, I find it absolutely essential to work this into the plans. Sitting down to a simple, relaxing, and fuel-providing breakfast is a key part of having starting a chaotic day right. This allows me to charge my engine and calmly think through the timing and tasks before me. Thanksgiving Day Breakfast makes me thankful for my mother, who usually makes it happen if she's with me. But also because she is the one who taught me how to think through and plan the timing and orchestration of cooking so well. She is such a gifted cook that it rather bores her to cook the same dish twice. That makes it hard for any one dish to remind me of her, even though all the thousands of things she's made me are always out of this world. So instead of a particular dish, I am thankful for her in the whole art of cooking. Maybe in the whole art of learning to thinking things through, following directions, pursuing excellence, finding passion in creativity ~ all cooking lessons that she also taught me to use in life. Even if she's not there, as I sit down to that Thanksgiving day breakfast, I can hear her voice in my head and her presence in my heart, and I find that focus to face the day as a fun process instead of as a daunting task.

Mashed Potatoes: As far as I'm concerned, the three core necessities of Thanksgiving are turkey, mashed potatoes, and Thanksgiving Day left overs. And mashed potatoes make me thankful for my sister, Lauren, who always takes charge and makes them amazing. I think she would probably stand with me if I said this was the most important dish of Thanksgiving, maybe the most important dish of eating, period. My sis and I are pretty different women, but there are some core parts of where we come from and who we are that no one else can share but us, and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving is a synecdoche for the core parts of us that only us sisters can share.

Turkey: Of course you can not have Thanksgiving without Turkey. Somehow, the first time I ever got involved in putting on a Thanksgiving meal was helping my mother-in-law, Nora, cook the turkey. My in-laws were taking me in for Thanksgiving for years before I was even part of the family. I was one of the few out-of-staters at my school, and they lived only two hours away and were always generous in taking me in. It is always nerve wracking for me to take on the task of the turkey - there is so much at stake - but I always think back to Nora's calm, follow the instructions, keep it simple, you can do this, approach and I get it done. She may not be a teacher by profession, like my mother, but she truly is a great teacher at heart!

Beef Tender: No, I have not deviated from the Thanksgiving Day menu concept. This is actually a staple of my family's Thanksgiving traditions. My father HATES turkey, he also hates ham by the way, and meat-loaf, and all kinds of traditional American fare. So, whenever he is present, Thanksgiving has to include an alternative meat option, and one of his fav's is beef tender. Quirky and high maintenance though he may be, I am grateful for my father who sets the bar high, keeps things interesting and artful, and is willing to do the work to help the team reach that extra mile he's demanding of them. Cause I gotta be honest, while I actually do enjoy the turkey, I am never going to turn down some beef tender, especially if my dad is the one cooking it!

Canned Cranberry Sauce: I know, so many of you probably think there is something so wrong with me now, but I just have to have the canned cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving. And under this dish, I want to express my gratitude for the industrial revolution, which has done so many things to make our lives easier. You have also brought negative, unintended consequences, but we'll figure out how to move past those, and in the mean time, enjoy our cans of a sugary redness.

Green Bean Casserole: I love that this is so broadly applied to American Thanksgiving menus that I don't even have to keep the recipe around, knowing I'll be able to find it anywhere when I need it around this holiday. This casserole makes me thankful for my grandmother, Gee, who makes sure to cover the traditional American bases. I think she might be one who has taught me by her own beautiful example, what fierce gratitude looks like. Orphaned at a young age, she was taken in by Aunt Jamie, who remains a mythical hero in our family. Without denying her past, my grandmother speaks of it with honesty that is completely overshadowed by Joy (her name and her attitude) and appreciation for a God who cared for her and a family that paints for her the picture of abounding grace He has extended to her.

Bread and Butter: This dish does not nearly do justice to the classiness of my other grandmother, "Grammy," but I know she would be thoroughly upset at a Thanksgiving meal that was missing some warm rolls and plenty of butter to slather on them. I inherited her passionate love for butter and am also a great beneficiary of her commitment to make sure that all the essentials, my "bread and butter" if you will ;), in my life were seen to. As I made my way as an independent adult, I never asked for anything, but I also never minded the occasional check in the mail that made things a little less tight. But well before that, she reinforced the important lessons my parents were trying to teach me - to love God, pray without ceasing, stop fighting with my sister.

Dessert: I'm not too picky on Thanksgiving desserts, as long as they're there. I sure don't mind my aunt's chocolate pecan pie or a simple peach cobbler, and this year I am especially looking forward to my sister's crumble, it's out of this world. The thought of dessert makes me thankful for my husband, he's my Sweet Thing. I can be a pretty intense person, way too focussed, often unwilling to enjoy life. But Manny balances my salty disposition by both helping to take some of the responsibilities off my plate, but also by helping me enjoy some of the sweeter things in life. Things as literal as sweets [I didn't really eat dessert before him], but also things like spending money on things that aren't 100% essential for survival, taking time to focus on a good conversation without trying to multi-task, or playing on the floor as a family of three instead of just trading off baby-duty so we can get responsible things done all the time. Life wouldn't be worth all the effort I put into it if I didn't have him to keep it sweet.

Thanksgiving Day Left Overs: I already mentioned last week how much I love the left overs. My memories of the holiday are most vivid around this course. By this time, enough time has passed for the family to all settle in together. I have fond memories of long, drawn out, stimulating discussions with cousins, uncles, grandparents, and friends, all over a nice, simple turkey and cranberry sauce sandwich with a nice heap of mashed potatoes on the side. So in honor of one of my favorite Thanksgiving courses, I am thankful for you, my extended family, friends, and Lobsters. Thank you for your engagement and your presence.

Who and what are you feeling thankful for today, Lobsters?

Cooking with Zoe: A Hot Mess of Chocolatey Goodness

Are there any other Lobsters out there who feel like it is just a miracle to ever cook yourself just the basic meals? I really feel that way lately. And then, I am trying to be social and make friends. But all these things I go to are with these amazing women who always bring incredible home made treats. I always feel embarrassed, either empty handed or with a poor excuse for a baked good. I can just feel their heads tilt with pity. 

Well! This week, I finally showed up to a social gathering, proudly carrying a dessert in hand! I picked the recipe because it only had three ingredients - score! Should be totally simple, right? Apparently, not for me with my muddle headed brain these days. That is not to scare you off from trying it yourself, more just a commentary on my recent state of mind. If you actually follow the directions [what a thought!], it should be quite simple. While I did not invent the recipe, I still want to share it with you (with the holidays coming up and so many opportunities where you're called on to bring a dish), so I am owning it by re-titling it. I present to you: 

A Hot Mess of Gluten-Free Chocolatey Goodness. 

[a.k.a. "Oreo Balls" not sure who to credit the original recipe too - if you are out there - thank you! let me know who you are and I'll update this post!]

Ingredients: 

1 pkg. Oreos [I found gluten free oreos so I could make sure my gluten free girlfriend didn't have to miss out]

1 8 oz. pkg. cream cheese

Chocolate for melting [i used chocolate chips]

Directions [colorfully retold]:

I started in on this recipe after my fifth attempt at getting my baby down for her nap. She did finally sleep, thank the Lord, but I had plenty of pent up frustration from the day! Therefore, step one was very therapeutic:

1. Crush Oreos.  

I took a fork to those suckers like they were evil demon cookies that I had to crush in order to save the world. The feel and the sound of it was as good as letting it out on a punching bag! better? 

2. Melt (or just soften) cream cheese and mix with Oreos.  [skipped this step for fear my baby would wake up too soon. unwise. did not speed things up in the long run!]

3. Chill thoroughly (in freezer, if needed).  

4. Form well chilled mixture into balls.  

Despite the misleading instructions about working with a "chilled" mixture, this is where things turned into a hot mess. I think I failed to let it chill enough, and/or my palms were still extra hot from the frustration [or with a more positive spin - the pleasant warm weather?]. So instead of forming into lovely walls, we mostly just got gooey, crumby, chocolately hands:

I can self-correct though, so I eventually just put it back in the fridge to let it chill some more. This helped a bit, but not a ton. With round two, I wound up with something that did vaguely resemble balls:

5. Melt chocolate and roll balls to cover.  

This seems like a basic cooking skill, and yet I have never been able to master it. My insufficiently chilled balls of round one completely fell apart in the chocolate, making it even less smooth to roll over the following balls. All the while, my hands (and let's be honest, my counter, clothes, floor, etc.) were getting more and more caked with those three simple ingredients. So I gave in, washed my hands [for like the fifth time since I started], and got the balls into the freezer so they would hold their shape a bit better with the hot chocolate.  

Somehow, after all this self-correcting, and beating myself for not just simply following the recipe, taking a breather with another project so I didn't get too frustrated, it got done. 

6. Return to chill to harden.  [this was a step I could manage!]

I have a personal rule of never making a dish for others that my family does not also get to partake in [my mother, a teacher, used to always bake these amazing treats for her class and we were never allowed to snitch. boo! ]. So Manny was my guinea pig. What's so great about Manny, is that the appearance of his food almost never phases him, as long as it tastes good. Bless my dear sweet husband. He took one for the team and approved the treat, even though I made him eat the uglier earlier batch renditions. Then I brought about a dozen for my three friends to snack on at our evening get together, and after their encouraging accolades, these four remained: 

Turns out, when you don't know what you're doing with the chocolate, and you end up coating them with about a gajillion times as much chocolate as they need, the dessert turns out to be rather rich and people enjoy the one or two they eat, but can't handle much more. It was a hot mess, but it was a tasty mess.