First date food, almost five years later

Somewhere along the way, T and I decided that mussels were the perfect first date food. Maybe our focus on first dates lies in the fact that we never exactly had a first date, or maybe it's because in restaurants we love spotting potential first dates at neighboring tables and interpreting their interactions. Regardless, were we to meet again on a traditional first date that did not take place from 11 p.m. - 2 a.m. and did not involve me telling him he was ridiculous, we would choose to eat mussels.

Mussels are adventurous and revelatory: they are not for the squeamish, and right away they tell you a lot about a person as an eater, which in turn suggests many more things you hope to learn for yourself over time. Mussels are interactive: they're shared, there's a give-and-take involved, there are fingers unexpectedly meeting in the bowl. Mussels are also messy, and they don't take themselves too seriously: any food where you are likely to laugh, have dribble on your chin, and probably make a mess at the table... that's a fun food to eat with someone, in my opinion. Mussels are also about being insatiable: sopping up the broth with great crusty bread, and going back piece after piece because you just.can't.get.enough... why not be insatiable together?

In honor of that hypothetical romantic first date we will never have, we chose to make mussels at home this year for our Valentine's Day dinner. I'd never made mussels before, due mostly to lots of fantastic mussel spots in town a stroll away from us. But suddenly I realized that if our hypothetical first date would involve adventure and interaction and more.more.more, why couldn't our own kitchen have the same sensibility? We made a pact: every Valentine's Day, we'll try to cook something new together, something we've always wanted to try but never quite gotten around to. As such, with our first-ever mussels, we skipped a traditional white wine broth and went straight for spice and decadence. Of course we did.

Spicy Curried Mussels for Two

Adapted from Gourmet Today

(can easily be doubled to feed a table)

Ingredients

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1/3 cup finely chopped shallots

1.5 teaspoons curry powder (adjust depending on spiciness of your curry)

Pinch of red pepper flakes (more or less to taste)

2 tablespoons medium-dry sherry

2 pounds mussels (soaked, scrubbed, beards removed)

1/2 cup heavy cream

2.5 tablespoons water

A scattering of fresh chopped cilantro

Salt

Crusty bread

Directions

Soak mussels in a large pot or bowl of water for 20 minutes. Lift mussels out of water after soaking, rather than pouring everything in a strainer (there will be sand and debris left over in the pot). Discard any mussels that opened during the soaking process. Scrub mussels and remove beards, if any.

Melt butter in a large wide pot over moderate heat. Add shallots, curry powder, and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring frequently, until shallots are softened, 3 to 4 minutes. Add sherry, bring to a simmer and simmer, stirring, for 1 minute.

Add mussels and cook, covered, over moderately high heat until they just open wide; check frequently after 4 minutes and transfer opened mussels to a bowl. (Discard any that have not opened after 8 minutes.)

Add cream and water to pot, bring to a simmer, and simmer for 1 minute. Add cilantro and salt to taste, pour over mussels, and toss gentle. Serve with bread for sponging up the sauce.

Crushable winter fruit: Blood Orange Salad

I adore blood oranges. While all manner of citrus is a welcome burst of brightness during seasonal winter eating, blood oranges in particular always call out to me from the market. They're so lush, vibrant, and well... sexy. See what I mean?

Since blood oranges are everywhere right now, here's a simple way to prepare them that's sure to please. I found this recipe via the fantastic local food blog The Arugula Files, and quickly incorporated it into our Valentine's Day meal. It's going to be a standard for us, I can already tell.

Blood Orange Salad with Shallot Vinaigrette

Adapted from The Arugula Files

For the Salad:

Mix 5 oz salad greens with 2 sliced blood oranges, 1/2 cup chopped pistachios, and a sprinkle of sliced red onion.

For the Dressing:

1/4 cup champagne vinegar

1/2 teaspoon orange zest

Juice of half a sweet orange or one small clementine (I almost always have a pile of clementines on hand when they're in season, so that's what I use)

1/2 teaspoon honey

1 teaspoon minced shallot

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

Sprinkle of salt and pepper to taste

This should be the perfect amount of dressing for a small 5 oz box of salad greens. Feeding a crowd? The dressing doubles perfectly for a larger salad.

Looking for more blood orange inspiration? Take a look at Pan-Seared Cod with Fennel and and Blood Orange Sauce, Blood Orange Olive Oil Cake, and Blood Orange Margaritas.

Meal of Love

I celebrate Valentine's Day in. Snuggled up, laughing in the kitchen, sharing a bottle of wine, wearing pajamas, IN. Honestly, just the idea of eating out on Valentine's Day is painful to me. All those people, all the reservation drama, all the elbows at too-close tables? While I'm a split personality extrovert/introvert, I am decidedly introverted every February 14. Last night was no exception. We made a glorious meal, so yummy that I thought I'd share it here.

We loved this meal so much, I decided to feature these recipes all week long. It'll also give me a chance to give shout-outs to some of my favorite food bloggers whose posts inspired our meal.

Course 1: Blood Orange Salad with Shallot Vinaigrette

Course 2: Spicy Curried Mussels

Course 3: Poached Spiced Pears

 This year's card, courtesy of my perennial fave Egg Press

Cooking a meal together, it seems, is our established Valentine's Day tradition. We added an additional element this year: cooking something new... but more on that soon. Any Valentine's Day food traditions in your house?

Update: This is too good not to share. Francis Lam continues to delight me to no end, as he live-blogs the top internet searches for Valentine's Day restaurant meals. Hilarity found here.

Valentine's Day advice from my grandmother

Valentine's Day is an appropriate day to kick off remembrances of my grandmother. She loved romance, and gifts of red roses or "jewels" (even if it was just a trinket) from my grandfather delighted her to no end. If you were to meet my grandmother for the first time, she'd coerce you into sharing details of your love life before you knew what hit you. She loved surprising people with nosy questions or bold statements. Case in point:

In high school my cousin got married in Atlanta, and Grandma and I were getting ready together in a hotel room. I had an ugly rash on my chin and cheek, and was trying in vain to cover it up. Grandma stepped in to assist. She gently touched the rash, surveyed the area, and with a twinkle in her eye, she stepped back and pronounced, "Maggie, you and I both know that what you have on your face is a case of beard burn, and nothing we can do in this hotel room is going to cover that up. I hope you had fun getting it, because it's not going to be fun getting rid of it." She was right, of course. I'd been ruined by a boy's stubble. We laughed and laughed. All throughout the wedding, she'd make beard gestures at me from across the room, having a ball making me blush.

One story my grandmother loved telling me was from her early twenties, when she was a single gal in Edenton, NC. She was tall and she was very pretty, boasting long legs and gorgeous auburn hair, and considered quite a catch in town. Two men proposed marriage to her before she met my grandfather. "Do you know how I responded to their marriage proposals, Maggie?," she'd ask. "I laughed right in their faces."

"Grandma!" I'd protest. "That's so mean! Those poor guys!"

She wasn't having it. "They weren't the right men for me and they knew it, so they deserved to be laughed at."

Harsh but fair. It was her way.

From the first time I heard that story, I liked that my grandmother had other offers. I liked that she took her time and found the right match. I liked that she knew herself well enough to know what she wanted, and had enough confidence in herself to know that she didn't need to settle. I didn't get engaged until I was 30, but unlike all those other folks throughout my 20s who hinted that it was time for me to hurry up and get married already, my Grandma Miller never once suggested that I needed to settle. She loved the fun stories folks had from casual dating, but when it came to marriage she had only two questions: "Is he the right one?" and "Is he good to you?" He was, Grandma, and he is.

She and my grandfather were married 65 years ago last month, and were my grandma here to dispense Valentine's Day advice today, she'd keep it simple: be true to yourself, never settle, and make sure to have lots and lots of fun. 

It certainly worked for her.

Namesake

My grandmother passed away this morning. Grandma Miller was my mom's mom, and the person for whom I'm named. Most people called her Margaret, but a few called her Maggie, and every time they did, it surprised me. My grandma had a fierce wit, sass to spare, and a general lack of concern for the opinions of others. As you might imagine, those were my very favorite things about her. She liked jokes and fun, loved jewelry, and had pristine hair and nails no matter the occasion. The phrase steel magnolia comes to mind.

I tried to find some great photos of my Grandma Miller, but the best ones are at home in NC. I'll be with them soon enough. I do have photos here that represent her perfectly, but she's actually not in them at all. Instead, the photos are of me.

When I was little, my grandma loved making me dresses, complete with detailed smocking, delicate embroidery, ruffles, and ribbons. Most of the dresses were red; my grandma knew even then it was my color. She entered some of the dresses in State Fair competitions, and won. Inevitably, she'd have portraits made of me wearing the dresses, and would mat them using the dress fabric. I'm the grinning kid in these photos, but she might as well be sitting beside me, smiling proudly and showing off a manicure that matched my dress.   

I'll be leaving soon to spend the week with family: telling stories, laughing, and eating some great food. All things that my grandma did well. I have fun stories I'd like to share here soon of my grandma in her prime - they feature laughing at men and boldly going where no local woman had gone before, so stay tuned. First things first.

Thank you for your name, Grandma, and for so much more. I'm a proud Maggie today.

More of this, please

Returning home from T's college hockey alumni weekend to find this explosion of awesome on our tv screen? (No, I don't mean the soulless sports anthem-producing machine known as the Black Eyed Peas Super Bowl halftime show.)

Enter the McKinley High hockey team:

Oh, the hair! There was a lot of hockey this weekend. And some flowing locks, to be sure. But alumni of all ages sporting full-on proud mullets, no. Sadly. A girl can dream, can't she?

Bring it, Glee.

Friday I'm in Love

Okay then! That was therapeutic.

We're off to Connecticut to party down with the in-laws, take in a little college hockey, and forget our troubles. On that note, here are my three finds for the week. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

Zach Wahls, Model Citizen, Making his Mommas Proud

Watch this video of Eagle Scout engineering student Zach Wahl proudly telling the Iowa State Legislature about his two mothers, and just try not to tear up or cheer. Just try. Found here.

Cat-Scratch Sofa, Yours for $6,500

There's so much that I love about Anthropologie. One peek into my closet proves that through and through. But this sofa? This sofa is everything that can go wrong, oh so very wrong, over at Anthro. If I wanted to spend $6,500 on a sofa, I can assure you it would not look like it had been trapped with a herd of hungry, wild cats. Further, if there is anyone out there who would choose this sofa out of all the sofas in the world that cost $6,500, I would like to meet that person. And then shake that person silly.

Founding Fathers: "Super-freaked out by cars"

I have little patience for self-righteous proclamations of what the founding fathers would have wanted. Particularly because the application is typically something so modern that the presumption is impossible. Seth Meyers nails that sentiment here. And for the record? I'll sign on to his musket gun law any day. Found here.

Pour, drink, repeat.

DC real estate sucks.

Whatever, I'm allowed to whine right now. No house for us. We did everything we could. Except sell organs to throw more cash at the thing. I was, of course, having a full-on renovation love affair with it in my head. There were so many weird signs that seemed to say it would be ours (how else do you explain Arcimboldo prints all over the house? I could go on...). Or not. We're 0/2 now, in case you're counting.Technically, we're the "back-up offer," but the consolation prize doesn't feel so great when they still get to hold a big check of ours and we still have no house.

But really, I'm not looking for sympathy. We'll figure it out. And blog-as-sympathy-device is utterly lame, anyway. I'd rather make fun of something instead. And so in the manner of Dlisted's amazing takedowns of the Food Network (see "Late Night Bacon," "English Peas," and "Dark Chocolate as a Snack"), I bring you my latest Freckled Citizen recipe: "Shot of Tequila."

Shot of Tequila

1. Pour tequila

2. Drink

3. Repeat

Decadence, just because

You know those days when for no reason at all, you wear red lipstick, or a pair of sparkly shoes, or call for a champagne toast? That's the best kind of indulgence, in my opinion: a moment meant purely to celebrate itself. This is a dish that embodies those qualities for me. It feels luxurious, and might beg the question "Why?" I answer, of course, with "Why not?"

I adore plane-jane brussels sprouts, and nine times out of ten roast them with olive oil, salt, and pepper and am the happiest eater in the world. Adding cream and chestnuts, though, takes the humble sprout to an entirely new plane. If I were you, I wouldn't cook brussels sprouts this way all the time. Save this preparation for special moods, when you deserve a little decadence. While you're at it, why not throw on your favorite red lipstick for dinner?

Brussels Sprouts with Chestnuts and Cream

From Gourmet Today

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 1/4 cups water

2 pounds brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved lengthwise

1 cup heavy cream

2/3 cup (4 ounces) bottled peeled cooked chestnuts, coarsely crumbled

Directions

Combine butter, salt, pepper, and 1 cup water in a deep 12-inch heavy skillet and bring to a boil over high heat. Add brussels sprouts, reduce heat, and simmer, partially covered, stirring occasionally, until crisp-tender, 6 to 8 minutes.

Remove lid and boil over moderately high heat, stirring occasionally, until water has evaporated and sprouts are lightly browned, 3 to 4 minutes.

Add cream and remaining 1/4 cup water and bring to a boil, stirring. Add chestnuts, reduce heat, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until heated through, about 2 minutes.

Blog-to-mouth-to-tummy improvement

So I have recipes here. And unless my blog stats are lying, you all like them. It has occurred to me, however, that these recipes are not always so easy to find. Making food harder... boo. Making food easier... yay!

Today I have a new feature for you on the blog, and it came about the best way possible... from my own frustration trying to quickly access my featured recipes. These moments would usually happen when, say, garlic was starting to burn on the stove and I couldn't remember exactly how much of the next ingredient I needed. "Ahhhh! Where is that damn recipe?!" (cue burned garlic)

Sometimes my mise en place needs work, what can I say?

Up on my nav bar, you'll see a new section titled "Recipes." This is a new page where I've indexed my posts featuring full-length recipes. Two easy clicks, and you can find what you're looking for. For recipes I've mentioned but didn't fully feature, you'll still want to use the Search engine, browse the My Freckled Kitchen tags, or peek into my Delicious folder, where I routinely tag the recipes I'm making that come from online sources. The Delicious folder actually exists for my own kitchen-referencing purposes just as much as it's a blog device.

Please enjoy... and let me know if this is a useful improvement. Actually, it will improve my cooking, so that's probably enough for me. Again with the selfishness.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to prepare the spice rub for Spice Chicken, after quickly referencing the handily indexed recipe... because you know I can never remember the exact amounts of coriander v. cumin I need. And my arms are so sore from Jillian-induced real estate stress relief that I don't even want to lift Gourmet Today. (Ooh, now combining laziness with selfishness!)

Happy cooking, everyone! I wish I could smell what's bubbling in all your kitchens tonight.