Red-leaf beets I found at the Saturday Morning Market.
Do you ever receive or share cooking tips with the cashier at your grocery store? It happens to me often. I have been given tips about how to ripen avocados–put them in a paper bag with an apple; how to grill a whole Brussels sprout stalk–just oil it up and throw it on; and many recommendations from cashiers on their favorite supermarket items. I’ve shared many tips as well and the most recent topic was beets. Beets seem to be one of those all or nothing kind of foods: people either love ’em or they hate ’em—it may just be their uniqueness that turns people away. If you are of the latter group, humor me as I attempt to sway your opinion of my favorite vegetable on the planet.
My husband, Ed, and I are not your typical schmoopy Valentine’s Day couple: no candlelit dinner with roses and wine, no balloons and definitely no stuffed animals. There’s really no acknowledgement of this commercial holiday except a “Happy February 14th” to one another and take-out for dinner. Why wait until this one day of the year to celebrate with the obligatory masses when we could celebrate any other day? On any given day–no occasion needed–he may bring me a special treat: Vosges chocolates or cookies from Alessi Bakery are especially exciting. If it’s a really special day, he might bring me my favorite–a croissant. I wrote this piece unbeknownst to Ed, and this morning, I awoke to freshly squeezed orange juice, a cafe au lait, and a package of warm croissants, brioche and a scone from my favorite bakery. Apparently, I spoke too soon. Is this his way of breaking our non-Valentine’s tradition? Or is he just teaching our son, Everett, the ins and outs of this lovey holiday?
Cauliflower and curry go together like peanut butter and jelly.
One day they eat it, the next day they won’t. If you have kids, or have at least been around kids, you know that when it comes to feeding children, there is a certain degree of trickery involved–getting them to eat veggies is perhaps the most difficult feat. I’ve gone so far as to hide pureed veggies in other foods–mainly smoothies–and I’ve used cheese or ranch dressing to jazz up those hard to eat vegetables. No matter your strategy, it’s hard catering to the most fickle creatures known to man; accommodating a child’s ever-changing palate is one of the great challenges every parent will face.
The “Venezellos”: a landlocked fishing boat washed up a block from the Apalachicola river.
On any road trip there are two options: the direct route and the scenic one. Traveling with a seven year-old typically would necessitate the need for the former. Over the summer, while driving home from Pensacola, we opted for the latter. If you’ve ever driven through the panhandle via I-10, then you know that it is, by far, the most mind-numbing drive, ever. This flat, scenic-less route leaves you practically comatose after an 8-hour stint from central Florida. So, despite adding on a two-hour detour, it was refreshing to actually have something to see once we hit the Gulf Coast. After making our way through Seaside, Port Saint Joe and all points in between, we arrived at our destination: Apalachicola.
Celebrating one year of blogging! Happy Bday My Veg Table!
Well, friends, here we are again; I am two days away from taking down my Christmas decorations: that officially marks the end of yet another year. While 2015 had its challenges, it was also full of some pretty great stuff.
One of the most exciting things this year got lost in the chaos of the holiday season; my blog celebrated its one year anniversary on November 18th! Happy Birthday MVT! Putting myself out there and creating this blog was such a personal leap for me. I knew I wanted to start something where I could chit-chat about food, but then I got stuck. It took over a year of brainstorming ideas and then finally working up enough courage to begin a blog; it’s hard to believe that now another year has passed since I hit “publish” on my very first post! I hope you all have enjoyed reading it as much as I have loved writing it!
The most important decision I make every year around Christmastime has nothing to do with shopping and everything to do with baking: which cookies will win a coveted spot on my annual cookie platter? Each year, I churn out anywhere from 12-18 dozen cookies for Christmas; it’s my favorite holiday tradition. It has been twenty years since I first started giving gifts from my kitchen. Back then, I thought it was genius idea since I had little money for gifts. As the years passed–and I could actually afford gifts–I opted to keep on baking as a little extra something. My family gets excited about our cookie platter every year; the anticipation grows until they get their very own take-home box–it’s even more fun to see if their boxes are emptied before they make it home.
How do I choose the winners? After I pore over the pages of my favorite holiday cookie magazines and family recipe cards, I take a potential list to a vote with my husband and son. There is one rule–each of the five cookie “food groups” must be represented: something chocolatey, something oatey, something fruity, something spicy, and something nutty. I usually throw in some kind of candy for fun. Two cookies never up for dispute are my Grandmother’s Snickerdoodles–which are unlike any snickerdoodle you’ve ever had–and Oatmeal Scotchies.
Where do the holidays take you? Christmas is all about family for us, but since my son was born, we no longer rush to multiple houses on Christmas Day; we compromised to make the day less chaotic. Christmas Eve is now spent with my in-laws: first, dinner at Carrabbas and then back to our house for presents and cookies. Christmas Day is always dinner at either my Mom’s or sister’s house. This year, it’s my turn to host my family for a Christmas brunch. Me…make breakfast food? I’m sure you’re shocked. At this point, I should be seriously thinking about renaming my blog Breakfast24/7. At any rate, our holiday table will be a veritable buffet of my favorite brunchy foods–the catch is, they need to be practically effortless. This brings me to quiche–or as my son, Everett, used to call it, eggpie.
I distinctly remember the day last year when I finished my Florida Cracker Cranberry Jam from Urban Canning Company. I was so bummed; I took a picture of my last bite of toast spread thinly with the last speck of jam that I could scrape from the jar. That was the first time that I actually felt aware of the seasonal nature of produce–and that’s a shame. I think we take for granted the variety of produce that we can get year-round, despite the fact that a true growing season is anything but year-round. Our produce is typically shipped in from all around the world just so that we can have everything that we need–whenever we need it. Not so with this local cranberry specimen: it’s so unusual, you won’t see it at your local grocery store and once it’s gone, you’ll have to wait until its season comes again.
By mid-September, my Halloween decorations are up for my favorite holiday. I suppose the disadvantage of decorating so early is becoming overconfident that everything is ready for October 31st. Imagine my surprise on October 30th when I realized that we hadn’t picked our annual pumpkin! So, late that Friday night, after my son’s baseball game, we drove to a church pumpkin patch down the road from the ballpark. The pumpkins were barely visible in the dimly lit patch. The typical search for our prized pumpkin is a lengthy process: many are chosen and returned before the winner makes its way to our car. However, this year was surprisingly different. As we approached the pricing table, my son, Everett, eyed one of the biggest pumpkins ever–I could see the cogs turning as he went on his quest looking for its twin. It was as if the proverbial rays of light were shining down from above onto this pumpkin; he walked right up to it and said, “This one!” The search for the Ferrer Family Pumpkin was over in five minutes flat. Fastest. Ever.
Attempting to pick it up was a challenge; my arms weren’t able to make it all the way around its middle. If I couldn’t even carry it without help, how on Earth was I going to carve this monstrosity? Halloween morning, I carved our 3-inch thick pumpkin with my carving tools and a steak knife; cleaning out the inside felt like a never-ending task. I harvested over 2 cups of seeds: what to do with them? I needed to make sure I didn’t waste them; for the past several years, I’ve meticulously cleaned and saved them…and then forgot about them and into the garbage they went. Not this year! I had some sweet ideas. Because we had so many seeds, I decided to use them for two sweet treats: pumpkin seed brittle and spiced pumpkin seeds.
What is your favorite spice? For me, the award goes to this crimson beauty: smoked paprika. It’s interesting because growing up, paprika had only one purpose as far as I knew: topping the cream cheese-stuffed celery boats that my Grandmother used to make. I remember it not having all that much flavor, but it made that little crudité look fancier and definitely more colorful. I always thought paprika was one of those spices that you should have on hand–you never know when you’ll get a hankering for celery boats–but despite having it, I rarely used it. My attitude towards paprika changed when I discovered its smoky cousin.
