In vino veritas, indeed

I issued myself a challenge some time ago, and have been hard at work ever since. Sipping is exhausting, I'm telling you. Welcome to Project: Chardonnay.

See, I've always hated chardonnay. It tasted buttery and gummy and oaky to me, and I didn't get the appeal at all. I'm a red wine girl anyway, but on a 100-degree day, if I were to reach for a glass of white, chardonnay would not be it. The more I heard about great chardonnays, though - legendary award-winners and universally loved bottles - I had to concede something. I didn't hate chardonnay per se... what I hated was cheap chardonnay.

Well, then!

A couple of months ago we attended a Tom Collichio-hosted dinner at Craft featuring courses paired with Ramey wines. The second course was a Thai snapper and shellfish ragout served with Ramey's 2005 Hudson Vineyard Chardonnay. The paring was spectacular, and the wine? Loved it!

There's just one problem with that particular bottle of chardonnay: T's obnoxious boss is so famous for drinking it that when he walks into the Ritz bar after work every day, they automatically bring him a glass. A $19 glass of chardonnay. That's right; me and the obnoxious boss, loving the same wine. Not happy with this development.

But two weeks ago over dinner at Fearing's, what did I order? A $19 glass of Ramey chardonnay, of course! (I actually justified it by realizing one big glass of great vino with dinner was cheaper than the standard two cocktails during dinner... see how easy that was?)

Over the weekend we stopped in to Veritas, where you can buy bottles for wine-store prices but drink them in a wine bar setting. We started to order a bottle of the Ramey chardonnay (we'd just eaten sushi and our palettes weren't ready for a deep red), when the fantastic wine steward there said two things: 1) fantastic choice, and 2) could he convince us try a lesser-known and slightly more expensive chardonnay instead?

He brought us Ridge Wine's 2007 chardonnay, and of course, I loved it. It was clean and smoky all at once, just beautiful.

Moral of this story? Watch out what you ask for. I might be developing a bank-breaking chardonnay habit. At least until the fall, when I'm back into my beloved reds.

My "Missing New Mexico" Green Chile Stew

When I talk about being homesick, I mean one of three things:

• North Carolina, where I'm from... the first meaning of "home"
  
• Boston, where I lived for six years, the first place I fell for, head over heels
  
• New Mexico, where I lived for five years. What everyone says is true: if you fall for New Mexico once, it stays in your heart forever.

Since moving to Dallas from Albuquerque two years ago, I find myself pining for New Mexico the most in the fall. Much of that is sensory: the feel of the air, the smell of green chile roasting or cedar burning in the fireplace, the taste of the seasonal food. When I moved, I figured I had left behind the smell of roasted green chile hanging in the air for good. I was beyond excited, then, when I found a couple of markets here that roast it straight from Hatch, NM.

My first taste of chile this year came during dinner at Hattie's on Friday (go, run, for their green chile t-bone). I immediately needed more, so I raided my supply in the freezer to make Green Chile Chicken Stew on Sunday. Such a great Sunday meal.

I made my stew the "hard" way, which is to say I used a whole chicken to make my own stock, but there's nothing difficult about it. If you have the time to cook a chicken, your stew will be about a hundred times tastier, in my opinion - you simply can't beat homemade chicken stock. But if you don't have the time, no worry - use your favorite storebought stock with water and add in some shredded rotisserie chicken.

When cooking with roasted green chile, you'll get more depth of flavor if you use both hot and mild chiles. Served with a cooling salad and a big hunk of crusty bread, you'll be craving this stew all week (and since you'll have just made enough for an army, you can eat it all week, too!).

Maggie's "Missing New Mexico" Green Chile Chicken Stew

Ingredients:

• 1 chicken
• Stock seasonings such as carrots, celery, onion, bay leaves
• 1.5-2 cups diced onion
• 2-3 minced garlic cloves
• 1.5 lbs small red russet potatoes
• 1 teaspoon cumin
• 3 cups chopped green chile
• 1/2 diced red bell pepper
• 1 cup corn
• Salt and pepper

To Make the Stock:

• I like to cut the whole chicken into 7 pieces or so, but that's just my preference. It makes it easier to tear the chicken off later since you don't have to wait for the entire chicken to cool down.
• In a large pot or dutch oven, place the chicken (whole or in pieces) inside and fill with 10 cups of water
• When the water is boiling, skim foam off the top and discard
• Add random seasonings to the pot (keep them whole; you'll discard these later). I like to use 2 carrots, 2 pieces of celery, half an onion, 2 bay leaves, and a bit of salt and pepper
• Simmer (don't boil) for 30-45 minutes
• After 30-45 minutes, you'll want to remove the chicken so that it's not overcooked. When the pieces are cool, tear the chicken off the bones into bite-sized pieces and set aside. Put the bones back into the pot.
• Simmer (don't boil) for at least another hour, the longer the better
• Strain to remove all vegetables and bones from the broth
• Skim the fat off the top
  
• Return broth to the pot or dutch oven

To Make the Stew:

• In another pan, saute 1.5-2 cups of onion with a dash of salt
• Just before they're translucent, add 2-3 cloves of minced garlic and saute for another minute
• Add onion and garlic mixture to the chicken broth
• Add 1.5 pounds of potatoes, cubed into 1-inch pieces
• Bring to boil
• Add 1 teaspoon cumin and a dash of salt and pepper
• Simmer for 1 hour
• Add 2 cups of chopped green chile
• Add 1/2 a red bell pepper, diced
• Add 1 cup corn
• Return the shredded chicken you set aside to the broth
• Simmer for 20 minutes

Served with crusty bread and salad. YUM!

Rested and restored

You know those moments when the world smiles on you and offers exactly what you need most? This weekend was full of those moments, and a lot of splendid nothingness. We've both been run ragged by work lately and were thrilled to have a weekend with a completely blank slate. When we got home on Friday afternoon, we almost immediately fell into a deep nap to shake the week off of us. And just like that, the week was gone.

In my 'more is more' persuasion, I'm a believer in surrounding yourself with things that make you smile and making time for the little things that you love. Napping is one of those things that is just good for my soul. Luckily, my partner in crime feels the same way. As for the 'things' part of that equation... T gave me a gorgeous pair of shoes for Christmas last year that had never seen the light of day, something that was increasingly bothering me. For eight months now, I've been searching for just the right thing to wear with them, or just the right event. Finally, I realized I was being silly... I didn't need a special outfit for those shoes, they were the outfit. Paired with an adorable but sedate navy blue linen dress, they were transformative. And they made me smile. And they really made my seersuckered groom smile.


A good reminder for me, those shoes. I cook with the best ingredients I can find, no matter the dish. Why not wear my best and most fun shoes, too, no matter the occasion?

With the seersucker Louboutins on my feet, we headed off to Hattie's, where I ended up being homesick for North Carolina and New Mexico all in one meal. I want to write more about our meal later on; it was that delicious. Improbably, the host knew who I was from this strange blogging world, and the night was full of magic. While strolling through the neighborhood after dinner, we ran into a work colleague and had the kind of charmed connection that makes me feel like anything is possible. Some nights it really is.

On Saturday we did nothing but watch the Kennedys, sleep, watch the Kennedys, and sleep some more, but the effect was so restorative that it hardly felt like a wasted day. We finally snuck out for a late sushi dinner and then found ourselves at Veritas, where we will return asap for more excellent wine recommendations. (Also something I'll write more about this week.)

The green chile from our meal at Hattie's on Friday night was too haunting to ignore, so on Sunday I decided it was time to put this year's chile in my freezer to good use. (You guessed it: my green chile chicken stew is yet another post to come this week... it's going to be a food+drink kind of week over here on The Freckled Citizen, I think.)

One more note about the weekend and how good for us it was... You know you're in a relaxed state when one of you walks out post-shower wearing this t-shirt:

This shirt is just one of the gems we still have lying around from 2008's Hall and Oates Halloween, and can make me grin through even the worst of moods. I'm so happy that its magical mood-changing powers weren't required this weekend.

Friday afternoon paper pick-me-up

I'm counting down the hours until Hattie's. In the meantime, Postal Press just opened, and since I cleverly finagled my way out of an afternoon commitment, I'm sitting here cooing over these notebooks!

That's right, folks... more porky paper!

While I'm at it, I might as well pick up some letterpress Hello notecards...


...and of course add their blog to my Reader.

This could be trouble.

Friday I'm in Love

I must confess, between Ted Kennedy passing away and lots of ridiculousness at work, it'd be easier to pick three things that saddened or annoyed me this week instead of my usual celebratory stance. But that wouldn't be the Friday style, would it? Thinking positively, then, this week I'm loving:

Cari Long Fine Art Photography

Cari took the most precious photos of my nephew Liam. They are prints only, not digital, which is why you're seeing snapshots of the prints in a frame or on the fridge instead of the real deal. But still... I think you can see how gorgeous these are! He is a cute little thing.


End-of-Summer Goodness in a Bowl

This is my favorite warm-weather pasta salad. It works in small batches for a quick meal, or in huge ones - I once made ten pounds of it for a political fundraiser. Knowing what kind of week was ahead, I made a batch of this early in the week to eat for lunch when it would be too hectic even to run out for a sandwich. It's the little things that make tough weeks easier, and this tomato/feta/herb/orzo concoction does the trick for me every time.


Friends in Fun Places

I've said before that one of my favorite things is watching my fantastic friends do interesting things, and this week was no exception. My dear friend Gene - modern Renaissance man, wedding officiant to yours truly - reported for The News Hour with Jim Lehrer as part of their roundtable this week. It was his second time on the show (he also reported on Election Night), and I swear I burst with pride seeing him do his thang, as Gene would say, for a national audience. Viva PBS! My friend Erik was also tweeted by The Nation this week, which to some of us is pretty hot stuff. Round of applause for two of my favorite guys!!!

Mission: Magazine Cover Dinner

On a lazy night at the homestead, we were contentedly watching lefty documentaries and snuggling when it occurred to us... why not whip up that luscious salad on the cover of this month's Food & Wine for dinner?

Magazine cover dishes don't often make the "whip it up" cut. This salad, though, suited our laziness nicely. It's hearty enough to be the main dish, but uses rotisserie chicken that can be picked up at your favorite market. How easy is that? The challenge:

The first step was to make the Green Goddess dressing. I'd never made my own Green Goddess before, and it was a treat to do so.

Green Goddess Dressing

2 oil-packed anchovies, drained
1 small garlic clove
1/2 cup packed flat-leaf parsley leaves
1/4 cup packed basil leaves
1/4 cup coarsely chopped dill
1 tablespoon oregano leaves
3/4 cup mayonnaise
2 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons snipped chives
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

In a food processor, pulse the anchovies, garlic, parsley, basil, dill and oregano until coarsely chopped. Add the mayonnaise and lemon juice and process until smooth. Fold in the chives; season with salt and pepper.

Two notes on this dressing:

1. If you're not familiar with cooking with anchovies, you might think they're gross and you'd never buy them. However, anchovies are in a surprising number of salad dressings - you'd be surprised how often you eat them without knowing it in restaurants. (This dressing, for instance, isn't the same thing without them.) Throw out that mental image of handling sardine-type creatures; oil-packed anchovies are innocuous strips in a jar, and they grind to nothing at all. A jar of good anchovies in oil can cost as little as $5 and will last you for ages, so what are you waiting for? They're a pantry staple.
   
   
2. I don't like mayonnaise. I never put in on sandwiches, don't like mayo-based salads, and hate the smell of it. However, this combination of ingredients transforms what looks like a mayo-heavy dressing into something sublime. Really. (I also like my own homemade garlic or roasted red pepper aioli, so go ahead and call me a mayo hypocrite if you like.)

The Green Goddess dressing was so delicious that we couldn't help but mop it up with squares of ciabatta while we assembled the salad.

Speaking of ciabatta and the salad...

Green Goddess Chicken Salad

One 1-pound loaf of ciabatta, bread cut into 1-inch cubes (do not use bottom crust)
One 2-pound rotisserie chicken, meat pulled into large bite-size pieces (no skin or bones)
8 piquillo peppers (from a 9.8-ounce jar), drained and quartered lengthwise
3 inner celery ribs with leaves, thinly sliced
1/2 cup pitted kalamata olives, halved

In a large bowl, toss the ciabatta with the chicken, piquillo peppers, celery, and olives. Add the dressing and toss to coat. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

Notes on the salad:

1. As always, fiddle with this recipe and make it your own. I added red onion to mine, because I add red onion to nearly everything. Do the same with your favorite vegetable. I also used far peppers than what the text calls for, because I like peppers nearly as much as I like onion.
   
   
2. Next time, I'd use a bit less bread than the official recipe. I happily discovered the next day, though, that even with the dressing-soaked bread, my leftovers weren't soggy. They were pretty much delicious.
   
   
3. If you can't find piquillo peppers (a Spanish version of roasted reds), just go for standard roasted red peppers, either out of a jar or roasted right in your own oven.
   

I think you can see what a snap this salad is if you have the right ingredients. And as Food & Wine notes, it's fantastic with a glass of pinot (the house fave anyway).

The result (an admittedly bad photo - sorry!):

Yum!

Take a look! It's in a book!

I just discovered that PBS' "Reading Rainbow" has been canceled... sadness! The show ran from 1983 to 2006 with the same host, the gentle and kind LeVar Burton. PBS has been airing reruns since 2006, but the contract runs out this week.

I used to adore this show and its ability to transport me to other places (so much so that I named my book label here on FC after it). I wonder if there's a program for kids on today that celebrates reading and adventure in quite the same way? I fear not. As a kid without cable, PBS was my go-to channel, and every note of this theme song still makes me grin from ear to ear.

I think I will go and spend the afternoon curled up with a book now.



Update: Nooooooow we find out. Think Progress: Decision to end 'Reading Rainbow' traced to a 'shift' in priorities during the Bush administration. The NPR piece regarding this development this morning was really interesting, too. As someone quoted on the piece said, "'Reading Rainbow' didn't teach kids how to read, but why to read, and the administration wasn't interested."

Ted Kennedy, 1932-2009

Beginning the day by remembering, on m-pyre.

Oinky ooh-la-la

As a native North Carolinian whose family knows a thing or two about hogs, I am an unabashed connoisseur of all things pork. Pork tenderloin, pork shoulder, pork belly, BACON ANYTHING... you name it. So you can imagine my delight when I stumbled upon these brilliant letterpress posters, which bring together my love of pork and Hatch Show Print letterpress in perfect harmony:


I think we all know how much I need to own the "noun not verb" print, don't we?

On a side note, this isn't my first blog post to combine pork and paper... perhaps I should begin a Porky Paper series?

Bonus pork paper product: Adorable pig portrait letterpress card!

UPDATE: Resistance was futile. Pork, The Noun: headed my way.

Tip, seesaw, tip

Here's the happy news in the M+T Life Status Report: we are incredibly lucky to have one another, we go home every day to a place that we like and furry friends we love, we have fantastic friends around, and we live in a town that offers more distractions than two people could possibly hope for.

Here's the rest of the Report: Distractions are not enough. And while we are perfectly comfortable here, we go through our days feeling fairly disconnected from what matters most to us, a sentiment that becomes more difficult to stomach as time goes on. Living as far away as we do from our families isn't just an issue of travel or prioritization. It impacts every decision we make, every way we think about our future, and has us in a holding pattern until we can figure out where/when/how to jump start our Real Life. We feel particularly vulnerable after weekends like this one, when we move mountains in order to spend just a couple of precious days with our favorite people, only to know at the end of it that once again, there is just never enough time.

Sometimes I imagine us teetering at the center of a seesaw, waiting for life to tip us in one direction. There is family pressure and a desire to be closer and make life easier on one side. Then on the other side, there's the hope that if we hold out long enough, all the stars might align for us so that a big move will be a bigger professional and financial opportunity than it is a setback. But that seesaw doesn't seem to want to tip either way, and so we remain distracted.

We've reached that precarious point in the year when we admit to ourselves that we will be here for another season. And again, this is not a bad thing, just more teetering in the center. So all the concerts we bookmarked for fall not knowing whether we'd be here or not, we can now buy tickets for. And all the trips we have planned for fall, we can go ahead and book them departing from DFW. Time marches on, whether we're calling it our Real Life or not. But as for when a progression of the calendar will feel like an actual step forward... that remains to be seen.

Scenes from our happy table at The Place this weekend: