Merry Christmas!

Two Tarts – the perfect breakfast companion

It is a long standing tradition in my family to have a breakfast Christmas morning consisting of many, many cups of coffee and heaps of cookies. Normally I bake various sweets for days, the kitchen becoming a swarm of flour and butter and sugar. But, with the lovely Two Tarts bakery a few blocks away, there was another option. And thus I settled for the latter, purchasing a baker’s dozen of miniaturized pastries. Hopefully they will last until the 25th, but one never knows with Mao, that sneaky glutton.

Food and the F.S.A.

It is well known among close friends and family that I am utterly and completely obsessed with the photography of the Farm Security Administration, a federal agency that headed the largest documentary project in the history of the U.S. I first discovered these images in college and eventually evolved my grad school research around this body of work. I have mostly worked with the black and white photographs, but there are about a thousand images in the file taken on color film. I perused some of these recently and am sharing those relating to food.

Melt – the best food you’ve never eaten

Melt, on NW 21st, is the best restaurant in Portland you haven’t yet been to. It opened in October and is nearly empty every evening. Melt has followed the recent trend of offering gourmet sandwiches, and some reviews I’ve read say the place is comparable to Bunk, a Southeast Portland institution with a line out the door every day. Melt is a carnivore’s heaven – with options ranging from pulled pork with roasted green chilies, ale braised pot roast with gravy and crispy onions, as well as grinders and crab cake burgers. The standard menu has only a couple vegetarian choices, but arrive during Happy Hour and the meatless varieties increase exponentially. Mao and I sampled nearly everything on the menu – jalapeno rice fritters, spicy, fried goodness; mushroom bruschetta, with pecorino and rosemary; feta salad, with grilled eggplant and fresh vegetables; chicken wings, quite good I’m told; and a miniaturized version of the meatball sub, also garnering great happiness from Mao. We loved everything and sampled some of the beers on draught. Melt is quite possibly my new favorite place in our neighborhood. It’s literally a block from the apartment, with an impressive and inexpensive Happy Hour menu, and at 6:00 pm on a Thursday it was practically empty. If you live in Portland, anywhere in Portland, meander over to Melt and feast on delicious sandwiches and countless appetizers.

Prost! and a longing for Germany

Mao, myself and some friends ventured from Northwest to Prost!, a German bar in NoPo. It was a bit of an adventure to get across the river. It involved no less than a rain soaked walk to the street car, a supposedly 10 minute street car ride which dissolved into a 45 minute ride due to traffic, another rainy walk through Old Town, waiting at the creepy Union Station while harassed for cigarettes and money, a 15 minute ride on the Max, yet another rainy walk across the Interstate, piling into a rescue car driven by Darsey, and finally arriving in Mississippi Avenue to discover the street cart were all closed. We filed into Prost! and comforted our sour moods with good German beer. Some of us were cantankerous due to soaked clothing and dire hunger, but the warm environment of the bar and the lengthy food menu soon silenced even the most cynical in our group. The lack of vegetarian friendly fare brought me back to Germany, my second home, and the need to compile a meal from various side dishes. While others feasted on meats in tube form, I ate pretzel upon pretzel. The beers on draught were outstanding, countless Weiss and Dunkel choices.

We left Prost! satisfied and a little depressed to be leaving the wonders of Mississippi Avenue. I left feeling quite homesick for Germany and my family in Franconia. It’s been eighteen months since I was in Eltersdorf and I long for Germany. My love for Portland is only comparable to my love for Germany. I spent many a summer in Franconia, bouncing around Bavaria and various cities. I love the food, the language I never conquered but still love to hear, the public transportation, the architecture, the recycling police, the German personality, my family. It is difficult to exist as a vegetarian in most restaurants throughout Franconia, but food found at the markets, the grocery stores, the places serving dishes of other nationalities, and cooked by my dear aunt are all delicious and lacking in animal protein. I miss the yogurt sold in blue containers at the Spar in flavors like walnut, elderflower and chocolate chip; breakfasts of freshly baked Brochten; lunches at that Italian place on the most picturesque cobblestone street in Erlangen; dinners of Raclette, always lasting hours as everyone customizes small plates of potato, cheese and vegetables, others searing meats on the grill. I love Portland, but there is nothing as comforting and constant as Romi and Juergen’s home in Eltersdorf. The one home in my life that never changed, where I truly developed my interest in food, and while my family might have moved three or four times since my last visit to Germany, but their place was always the same, always wonderful.

So while I mourn for days spent in dear old Deutschland, I will drown my sorrows in a glass of Dunkel Weiss and order another pretzel, while Mao gorges himself on various wursts and attempts to drink his beverage of choice from a two-liter boot shaped glass. And though a former church building on North Mississippi is not Franconia, for now it will have to suffice.

A weekend in California

Mao and I spent the weekend in Santa Barbara with my dear godmother. It was a lovely, lovely trip. I fell in love with the company, the town, the sound of the church bells from the mission, the persimmon tree in the backyard, the unseasonal weather, everything. And despite of my enamored state, I still adore Oregon more.

I am unabashed Oregonian and upon returning to Portland, greeted by the rain and cooler weather, I felt at home. In past trips, I would dread the return flight, not quite ready to leave the food and environs of wherever I happened to be. But, now I love flying into the city, riding the Max into town, meandering home. Traveling for me means fully embracing the people and places I visit, while secretly realizing I might not be able to live anywhere but Portland.

More complaints about the cold and a stew recipe

I am still cold, constantly shivering and thus preferring almost every meal in tongue scorching soup form. Hot quinoa flakes for breakfast, soothing pho, and heaps and heaps of barley stew.

I have been spending countless afternoons and evenings laboring over a stock pot cooking various soups, as much for the warmth provided by the stovetop as for the meal. This barley stew is so hearty that I bet even the most stringent carnivore won’t notice the lack of animal product.

We’re off to California for the weekend. Hopefully the change in climate will temporarily cure my cynicism and general cranky disposition.

Barley Stew
Adapted from Bon Appetit
1 tablespoon olive oil, divided
1 1/2 cups chopped leeks (about 2 small stalks; white and pale green parts only)
1 8-ounce container sliced crimini (baby bella) mushrooms
2 garlic cloves, pressed
2 1/4 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary
1 14.5-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice
1 cup pearl barley
4 cups (or more) vegetable broth
1 bunch kale (about 8 ounces), trimmed, center stalks removed, leaves coarsely chopped (about 8 cups packed)

Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium heat. Add leeks; sprinkle with salt and pepper and sauté until leeks begin to soften, stirring often, about 5 minutes. Add mushrooms, garlic, and rosemary; increase heat to medium-high and sauté until mushrooms soften and begin to brown, stirring often, about 7 minutes. Add tomatoes with juice; stir 1 minute. Add barley and 4 cups broth; bring to boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer until barley is almost tender, about 20 minutes. Add kale; stir until wilted, about 1 minute. Cover and simmer until kale and barley are tender, adding more broth by 1/4 cupfuls as needed for desired stew consistency, about 10 minutes.

Pumpkin muffins or food for the fiendish

About a month ago my friend Laura shared this recipe with me. It sounded delicious, but what was even more impressive was her hilarious description these muffins have on those of the amorous persuasion. It may no longer be fall weather here in Oregon, but I still love autumn flavors and the smell of pumpkin and cinnamon that linger for hours in the kitchen.

And so I present an unadulerated version of her email. I say lock the doors, don an apron (because nothing says sex quite like gingham), and bake my God bake.

OK, this recipe I am about to share is POWERFUL. Guaranteed to make your lover swoon. It must be those fall spices–they bring out the warm fuzzies, I think. So easy and soooo good!

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins
1 1/2 cups vegetable oil
1 cup canned pumpkin
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
3 cups flour
2 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
12 oz. chocolate chips (yep–a WHOLE pack! i used semi-sweet)

Preheat oven 400 degrees. In a large bowl beat together first four ingredients. In another bowl, sift together next five. (Although I didn’t sift and it turned out just fine) Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet ones while using the beaters for consistency. Stir in chocolate chips. Place muffin cups in muffin tins and fill 2/3 (will rise so don’t overfill).

Bake 16-20 minutes at 400 degrees. Let cool before serving.

NOTE: You really must eat these while warm. A good 14 seconds in the microwave is enough to get the chocolate chips gooey.

Warning: Might serve as an aphrodisiac. Be careful who you serve them to.

Much love, Laura

My Christmas list

1. Truffle honey to slather over hard cheeses

2. Crunchy, smoky fried peppers.

3. This sign for the office. As well as everything else at Three Potato Four.

4. A visit to Humphry Slocombe to sample any of the ice cream flavors.

5. McClure’s Pickles, either garlic dill or spicy.

6. Dinner at Biwa or Castagna or Le Pigeon or Clarklewis . All in Portland. All on the east side.

7. A box of jewel toned macarons from Pix Patisserie.

8. Mini cocotte stoneware from Le Creuset. Or larger pieces in a shocking color.

9. A ridiculously expensive salt sampler.

10. A meal of takoyaki at Kurata Sushi in Lake Oswego.

A recipe to appease the masses

If you are attending a party or other festivity this holiday season and need to bring a food item,  serve these cheese straws. They are incredibly simple to make, utterly delicious to consume, and known to elicit smiles from even the most cynical of people. Follow the recipe below or alter it with the addition of different cheeses, fresh spices or nuts. Add pecans to the mixture, roll out the dough and cut into circles for a southern interpretation of cheese biscuits. Add parmesan instead of cheddar and chopped fresh rosemary for Italian inspired straws. Play around with the recipe and perhaps make two batches, one to selfishly devour at home and another to share with a crowd.

Cheese Straws
Adapted from Bon Appétit
1/4 pound coarsely grated extra-sharp Cheddar
1 cup all-purpose flour
3/4 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into tablespoons
1/2 teaspoon salt
Rounded 1/8 teaspoon cayenne
1 1/2 tablespoons milk

Preheat oven to 350°F with racks in upper and lower thirds. In a food processor, pulse together cheese, flour, butter, salt and cayenne until the mixtures forms into a coarse meal. Add milk and pulse until dough forms into a ball.

Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface with a lightly floured rolling pin until dough is 1/8 inch thick. Cut dough with a lightly floured pizza wheel or lightly floured sharp knife into thin strips. Carefully transfer to two ungreased baking sheets, arranging strips 1/4 inch apart.

Bake the straws until golden, about fifteen to eighteen minutes, making sure to switch the positions of the sheets halfway through baking. Cool completely on baking sheets.