A Trip to Fenway Park & Confetti Salad with Citrus Vinaigrette

April means many things. Spring arrives and we put away our skis and snowshoes. There are April showers or rather downpours. The roads are a sea of mud or an obstacle course of pot holes and frost heaves or both. And of course, baseball season begins. Yesterday was opening day and next week Fenway Park will throw open its doors for the first home game.

Growing up outside of Boston, I was raised on the Boston Red Sox. However, I was not exactly a diehard fan. Not like my seventh grade math teacher. She was the one who struggled with new math but taught it anyway. On game days, she stopped class every ten minutes or so to turn on the radio for an update. I was more of the nothing-else-is-going-on type of fan. I was more than happy to watch the Red Sox play as long as the game didn’t interfere with something important … like a trip to the beach or the mall. Still and all, I read the sports page once or twice a week, understood the rules of the game and some of the strategies and followed all the players (particularly the handsome ones).

Although I was never quite so devastated as my math teacher, like most of the population in and around Boston, the Red Sox broke my heart countless times. They even lost the first time I watched a game live and in person in Fenway Park.

Back in the days before retirees put on reflective vests and held up stop signs, sixth graders manned the crosswalks. Or at least they did in my quiet suburban town west of Boston. An invitation to join the Safety Patrol was supposed to be some kind of honor or recognition of the town’s future leaders. Our teachers liked to pretend it was a role reserved for the best of the best.

It was a myth that only the top students were invited to guard the safety of their classmates. At eleven, I was not a brilliant student. As far as I know, I did not show great promise as a future leader of industry, government or academics. I was a sweet little girl who turned in her homework on time and got along with both her classmates and teachers. In other words, I was a bit of nerd, cheerful and well behaved with decent if not spectacular grades. Evidently, that was enough to qualify for the prestigious mantle of Safety Patrol. By year’s end, about half of the sixth grade had put in their time keeping younger siblings and neighbors from harm’s way.

The reward for the onerous duties of Safety Patrol was a trip to Fenway Park. Not opening day mind you but we did get to play hooky. Sometime before school let out at the end of June, yellow school buses circulated through the town picking up a couple hundred sixth graders and then headed into Boston. As field trips go, it was better than Benson’s Wild Animal Farm, much better.

It was all very exciting. The day was perfect, bright and sunny. One of the announcers proclaimed it Safety Patrol Day or some such thing and welcomed us over the loud speakers. We sat in the bleachers, stared at the regulars, ate popcorn for lunch, drank cokes and felt very grown up. There’s nothing like a ball game under sunny skies. Especially on a school day and even when the Red Sox break your heart.

Enjoy the start of baseball season and bon appétit!

Confetti Salad with Citrus Vinaigrette
Win or lose, enjoy a festive salad after the game!
Serves 4

6 ounces baby mixed greens
1/2 small head radicchio, thinly sliced
4 radishes, chopped
4 scallions, thinly sliced
1 avocado, diced
1/2 red or yellow bell pepper, chopped
1/2 carrot, cut in curls with a vegetable peeler
1/4 cup cilantro leaves, roughly chopped
1/4 cup mint leaves, roughly chopped
Citrus Vinaigrette (recipe follows)
2 ounces feta cheese, crumbled

Put the vegetables and herbs in a large bowl and toss to combine. (If preparing ahead, prepare and add the avocado just before serving.)

Drizzle the salad with enough Citrus Vinaigrette to lightly coat and toss to combine. Put the salad on a serving platter, top with crumbled feta and serve.

Citrus Vinaigrette
Juice of 1 orange
Juice of 1/2 lemon
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
2-3 cloves garlic
1/4-inch slice red onion, chopped
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1-2 teaspoons honey
1-2 teaspoon anchovy paste
Pinch cayenne pepper
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Extra virgin olive oil

Put all of the ingredients, except the olive oil, in a blender and process until smooth. With the motor running on low, slowly add olive oil to taste and process until smooth.

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One Year Ago – Magret de Canard Provencal
Two Years Ago – Strawberry & White Chocolate Fool Parfaits
Three Years Ago – Grilled Lamb & Lemon Roasted Potatoes
Four Years Ago – Spicy Olives
Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

What’s your favorite spring sport? Let’s get a conversation going.

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2013

Oh Christmas Tree & Braised Short Ribs

For many the first weekend of December can only mean one thing. It’s time to deck the halls and put up the tree. Many families will spend next Saturday afternoon wandering through the snow, saw in hand, looking for the perfect specimen to hang their baubles and bows.

The Nye’s were never one of those families. Yes, we did have a tree. Yes, we did spend a wonderful Sunday afternoon decorating it. But we didn’t trudge through the woods or a tree farm with a saw. We took (what should have been) the easy route. We bought our tree at the local garden shop.

One year was particularly memorable. Staying at home with my-then baby brother, my mother sent my dad, my sister Brenda and I to buy the tree. It was not without some trepidation. Convinced that Dad would just grab the first tree he saw, she put her two little girls in charge. As we tumbled into the backseat of the station wagon, she rattled off a list of instructions. We should buy a Douglas fir. Or was it a Blue spruce? Make sure it’s not too tall or too short. It should be plump and full and fit in the bay window in the living room. Mom’s instructions went in one ear and out the other. I was only seven. Brenda could handle it. After all she was in the fifth grade.

Most years we arrived at the garden shop just as the winter sun was fading and the temperature dropping. This one was no exception. We wandered through the rows of trees. Dad pulled out a likely candidate for our inspection. We checked for bare spots and tried to guess if it would pass Mom’s critical eye. Tree after tree was rejected, until finally the most perfect evergreen was found. Or maybe we were just chilled to the bone and ready for our warm house and a cup of hot chocolate.

Our beautiful new Christmas tree was quickly purchased and tied to the roof of the car. Before the motor was turned off, Mom was out the door and in the driveway to inspect our purchase. Hugging her sweater for warmth, she watched it come off the car. In seconds she’d sized up all of the tree’s flaws. First there was the big bare spot half way up one side. Then there was crooked trunk that would make the tree lean like the Tower of Pisa. Plus it was too tall to fit in the living room. Or maybe it was too small. I’m not really sure except that it was proclaimed far from perfect.

The tree was returned to the roof of the car and back we went to Diehl’s. By now, it was probably 4:30, a lot colder and dark. A few bare bulbs feebly lit the stacks of trees. Again, we wandered around, inspecting and rejecting until finally, we were sure. Yes indeed, this time we had really, truly found the perfect tree. Either that or we were really, truly freezing and really, truly in need of a hot chocolate.

Again, Mom heard the car pull up and was out the door in a flash. In less than a minute she was back in the house to grab her coat and bundle the baby into his snowsuit. Dad tied the second tree back onto the car.

Back at Diehl’s we watched the master as she carefully inspected and rejected tree after tree. Too skinny. Too short. Too prickly. Oops, too expensive. Too who-knows-what. Christmas is her favorite of all the holidays and Mom was filled with purpose. The Nye’s would have a beautiful tree. A perfect tree.

And of course, in spite of the cold and the flickering twenty watt bulbs, she found it.

Wishing you and yours a joyful holiday season, filled with wonderful family memories. Bon appétit!

Braised Short Ribs
Whether you spend the afternoon cutting your own or wandering through the garden shop in search of the perfect Christmas tree, these hearty ribs will warm you up! Enjoy!
Serves 6

2 ounces slab or thick cut bacon, roughly chopped
4-5 pounds beef short ribs
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1 tablespoon paprika
1 large onion, finely chopped
4 medium carrots, finely chopped
4 stalks celery, finely chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 1/2 cups crushed tomatoes
2-3 sprigs fresh thyme
1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
1 bay leaf
2 cups dry red wine
2 cups chicken stock
Garnish: fresh chopped parsley

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Cook the bacon in a heavy casserole over medium heat until crisp and brown. Remove the bacon and reserve. Pour off any excess bacon fat, leaving just enough to lightly coat the pan and reserve.

Season the beef with salt and pepper and, working in batches, brown the beef over medium-high heat. Remove the beef and add to the reserved bacon.

Reduce the heat to medium. Drain any excess fat from the pan, leaving just enough to lightly coat. Add the onion, carrot and celery, season with paprika, salt and pepper and sauté until lightly browned. Add the garlic and sauté 1-2 minutes more.

Stir the vinegar, mustard and tomatoes into the vegetables. Slowly add the wine and chicken stock, stirring to combine. Raise the heat to high, bring to a simmer and simmer for 5-10 minutes.

Add the herbs, return the beef and bacon to the pot and bring to a simmer. Cover the pot and transfer to the oven. Cook at 350 degrees for 2 – 2 1/2 hours or until the beef is tender. Add more wine and/or stock if needed.

Carefully transfer the beef to a deep serving platter. If necessary, bring the sauce to a boil over high heat to reduce. Ladle the sauce over the beef, garnish with chopped parsley and serve.

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One Year Ago – Mushroom Crostini
Two Years Ago – Chocolate Dipped Orange Caramels
Three Years Ago – Braised Beef with Root Vegetables
Four Years Ago – Macadamia Nut Shortbread
Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

Where do you get your annual tree? In the woods? A tree farm? Or garden shop? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going.

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2012

Feel Big and Strong – Vote & A Chicken in Every Pot

Is it possible that Election Day is only a week away? It seems like the campaigns have been going on and on forever. Well, maybe that’s because they have, or at least almost. After all New Hampshire is both the first in the nation primary and a swing state. In hopes of capturing our hearts, minds and votes, politicians have spent the last few years trudging through snow, rain, blistering heat and autumn leaves to shake our hands and kiss our babies.

My mother has always taken voting very seriously. She grew up close to Boston, birthplace of four presidents and home of the Tea Party. That’s the original Tea Party. The one in 1773 when patriots threw overtaxed tea into the harbor. She loved history, particularly early American history. For more than a few years she guided tourists and school children through the Massachusetts State House. She loved sharing the buildings’ art and architectural details. Even more she enjoyed sharing some of Boston’s well- and not-so-well known history. Her favorite story was of a patriotic Nye ancestor who took part in the famous harbor tea fest. Family legend says that he pilfered a handful of the precious tea and brought it home to his mother in New Bedford.

When it came to politics my sister, brother and I were encouraged to have opinions and voice them with enthusiasm. But there was a but. If we wanted to take part in the discussion we had to participate in the process. My mother firmly believes that getting out the vote should start at home. As soon as we turned eighteen, she whisked us down to the town hall to register. Why, we barely had time to open our presents and finish our birthday cakes. She didn’t care if we shared her political leanings. It didn’t matter if we registered Republican, Democrat or Independent. We mattered and therefore our votes mattered.

No sooner had I joined the voting rolls than a local election took me inside one of those mysterious voting booths. Voting was held in school gyms throughout town, so I’d seen the red, white and blue mini cabanas many times. Mom waited for the school bus to bring me home that day so we could cast our ballots together. It was not a major election, just a few local statutes or amendments were on the ballot. As far as I could tell they were written is some foreign language which pretended to be English but didn’t wholly succeed. I don’t remember what they were about or how I voted. All I remember is my mother’s pride and excitement as I voted for the first time.

With her voice in my ear, I have managed to vote in most but (sorry Mom!) not all major elections. Even when I lived in Europe, I voted absentee. It was sometimes touch and go but I usually managed to meet the deadline. While many of my expatriate friends let it slide, I always felt quite virtuous for voting. Even if I was an ocean away.

I moved back to the US on the eve of the 2000 election. Unsure that my absentee ballot had been mailed in time, I watched the results late into the night, early the next morning and on and on for days and days. Jetlagged and reverse-culture shocked; I wondered if my one little vote could make a difference. As always, my mother categorically insisted that it did. Given that the election was finally won by only 537 votes in Florida, she was pretty close to right.

2012 promises to be another squeaker so regardless of your political leanings, don’t forget to vote! Bob Schieffer, the moderator in the final presidential debate put it beautifully when he closed the evening with a quote from his mom, “Go vote, it makes you feel big and strong.”

My mother would wholeheartedly agree.

Bon appétit!

A Chicken in Every Pot
In the old days politicians promised a chicken in every pot. Try this flavorful dish while you wait and watch the returns on Election Night. Enjoy!
Serves 6
About 1/3 cup all purpose flour
1 teaspoon paprika
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1 1/2 – 2 pounds skinless boneless chicken breasts
6 cloves garlic, peeled and trimmed
1 red onion, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
1 celery stalk, finely chopped
1 teaspoon herbs de Provence
Pinch red pepper flakes
1 cup dry white wine
1 cup chicken stock
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons cognac
1/4 cup heavy cream
Extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

Combine the flour with the paprika and 1 teaspoon each salt and pepper. Pat the chicken dry and dredge it in the flour, shaking off the excess. Heat a little olive oil a large casserole over medium-high heat. Sauté the chicken until golden, 1-2 minutes per each side. Remove the chicken from the pan and reserve.

Add the garlic, carrot, celery and onion to the pan and season with herbs de Provence, pepper flakes, salt and pepper. Lower the heat to medium and sauté until the onion is translucent, 5-7 minutes. Stir in the mustard and then slowly stir in the white wine and chicken stock. Add the bay leaf and bring to a simmer. Cover and simmer on low, stirring occasionally, for about 10 minutes.

Return the chicken to the pan with any juices and wiggle the pieces down into the vegetables. Bring everything to a simmer, cover and simmer on low for 10-15 minutes or until the chicken is cooked through. Remove the chicken from the pan and cover to keep warm.

Remove the casserole from the heat and stir in the cognac. Whisk in the cream and simmer on low for a few minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. Pour the sauce over the chicken and serve immediately.

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One Year Ago – Roasted Carrots & Pearl Onions
Two Years Ago – Roasted Butternut Squash Risotto
Three Years Ago – Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Pearl Onions
Four Years Ago – Mexican Chicken Soup
Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

How will you spend Election Night? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going.

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2012

Back to the Burbs & Chicken Parmagiana with Spaghetti Marinara

Like all good things, summer must end. When we were kids, that meant packing up the station wagon and heading back to the burbs. As sad as my sister, brother and I were to see Labor Day come around, I think our return hit my mother the hardest. After all, we had new classes, teachers and classmates to excite us, unnerve us or bore us.

Fall may be my season but summer is hers. As a girl Mom loved spending the summer on the Cape. If it were possible, I’d say she loved summers on Pleasant Lake even more. To use Mom’s words, she was absolutely bereft when it was time to leave paradise for the reality of home.

School always started bright and early on the Tuesday after Labor Day. Unlike many families, we always stayed in New Hampshire until the last possible minute. Most all of our friends were long gone by the time we packed up the car and headed south late Labor Day afternoon. Looking back I’m a little surprised that we didn’t leave at dawn on Tuesday morning.

The other kids showed up looking sharp and ready to go on the first day of school. I still had sand in my hair. My friends’ book bags were filled with shiny new notebooks, pencils and pens. Unless I somehow managed to scrounge up a scruffy old notepad and a stubby pencil, I arrived empty-handed.

Returning home from school that first afternoon, I did my best to convince my mother that I not only needed school supplies but speed was of the essence. Mom was never particularly sympathetic. With melodramatic flair, I insisted my teachers were threatening failure, detention or worse. Still in relax mode and with sand in her hair, Mom insisted the public school system would not, could not expel me because I didn’t have a new pencil. I was not convinced.

Eventually, my pleas wore her down. Off we went to the Five & Dime to pick up middle school flotsam and jetsam.

Of course all the good stuff was long gone. The back-to-school aisle looked like a hurricane had blown through it. While I was swimming, sunning and waterskiing my friends had cornered the market on cool and cute school supplies. I was lucky to find a boring Bic pen and a dull and dreary black notebook. And forget book covers. My mother was too forlorn to understand why I would die before I’d let The Beverly Hillbillies cover my books. In lieu of hari-kari, I became quite expert at cutting and folding paper bags and made my own. My drawings might not have been the envy of the sixth grade but I thought I did okay. Perhaps that’s why I ended up as an art major in college!

Not all gloom and glum, our return to the burbs also meant dinner at the Villa. Never a particularly enthusiastic cook, Mom was too blue that first day or two home to rattle her pots and pans. The Villa was a family favorite and we three kids were more than happy to go along. The noise level was a dull roar, the waitresses were bossy and the food was traditional Italian-American. It was wonderful. The Villa took some of the edge off the pain of being back in the burbs.

Whatever your post-Labor Day reality; I hope you are enjoying all that cooler weather brings. Bon appétit!

Chicken Parmagiana with Spaghetti Marinara
A family friendly dinner for kids from five to ninety-five! My brother always ordered veal or chicken parmagiana when we went to the Villa. Enjoy!
Serves 8

1/2 cup flour
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
8 skinless, boneless chicken thighs (about 3 pounds)
Olive oil
3-4 cups Marinara Sauce (recipe follows)
About 4 ounces mozzarella, shredded
About 4 ounces fontina, shredded
About 1 ounce Parmigiano-Reggiano, grated
About 1 ounce Pecorino Romano, grated
8 ounces spaghetti
Additional grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and Pecorino Romano for the spaghetti (optional)

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees and put a large pot of water on high heat to boil.

Put the flour, salt, pepper, paprika and thyme in a shallow bowl and whisk to combine. Lightly coat both sides of the chicken with the seasoned flour.

Heat a little olive oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. Working in batches, cook the chicken 2-3 minutes per side or until golden. Transfer the chicken to a non-stick, rimmed baking sheet. Top each chicken thigh with 2-3 tablespoons Marinara Sauce and sprinkle with the cheeses. Bake the chicken at 375 for 10-15 minutes or until the chicken is completely cooked through and the cheeses are bubbling.

Meanwhile, cook the spaghetti according to package directions. Drain the pasta and return it to the pot with enough Marinara Sauce to coat. Don’t drown the pasta in sauce. Cover the pot and let the spaghetti sit for about 1 minute to absorb some of the sauce.

Divide the spaghetti among 8 shallow bowls, top each with a chicken thigh and serve. Pass additional grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and Pecorino Romano for the pasta.

Traditional Marinara Sauce
Makes about 3 quarts*

Olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1-2 carrots, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
Pinch or to taste dried chili pepper flakes (optional)
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup dry red wine
9-10 cups (three 28-ounce cans) crushed tomatoes
2 sprigs fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons each chopped, fresh basil and parsley

Heat a little olive oil in a heavy sauce pan over medium-high heat. Add the onion and carrot and season with pepper flakes, salt and pepper. Sauté until the onion is translucent. Add the garlic and sauté 1-2 minutes more.

Add the wine and simmer until reduced by half. Add the crushed tomatoes, thyme and bay leaf to the pot. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat to low and simmer for 30 minutes. Stir in the basil and parsley and simmer for a minute or two more.

* You’ll want to make plenty of sauce. It freezes beautifully and will come in handy throughout the fall and winter.

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One Year Ago – Croûtes au Fromage
Two Years Ago – Tex-Mex Braised Beef
Three Years Ago – Spicy Chicken Stew
Foure Years Ago – Chicken ChiliOr Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

What’s your favorite Italian-American dish? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going.

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2012

No More Pencils. No More Books. No More Teachers’ Dirty Looks. & Crunchy Slaw with Cilantro, Mint and Peanuts

There was a wonderful sense of urgency in our house on the last day of school.
The final bell rang at 11:15 and the Nye children had strict instructions to come right home. No dilly-dallying. Within minutes of walking in the door we were out again and in the car headed to Pleasant Lake.

My mother was a master of organization and efficiency. She deftly orchestrated the last minute frenzy. Bathing suits, t-shirts, shorts and flip-flops were thrown into duffel bags along with a pile of books. Except for the books, we packed light. There was no need for fancy clothes or shoes at the lake. In no time at all, our bags were lined up by the back door.

Our dogs, Eeyore and Penny, danced nervously around the kitchen. Most mornings, the dogs roamed the neighborhood. They had a regular route with little old ladies to visit and cats to chase. But never on the last day of school. Fearful they would miss out on something or be left behind, they spent the morning close to home. The dogs always knew when something was up.

Finally the duffels along with a few bags of groceries, three kids, two dogs and three turtles were crammed into our big, blue station wagon. After one last check, Mom locked the door and we hit the road, leaving the manicured lawns of suburbia in our wake. If it wasn’t packed, we didn’t need it. If it wasn’t done, it had to wait until September.

In spite of our rush to get to Pleasant Lake, Mom always took us to Ricky’s in Nashua to celebrate the end of school and start of summer. Ricky’s was one of those funky, family-owned roadside drive-ins. At one time prolific throughout New England, most of them, including Ricky’s, have long since disappeared. They were squeezed out by clowns and kings or maybe their owners got tired of the cold and retired to Florida. Instead of golden arches, Ricky’s was decorated with two giant, smiling dachshunds. It wasn’t high art but the hot dogs and onion rings were terrific.

Ricky’s was open year round but we rarely stopped during the ski season. During the winter you had to eat in your car. Mom and Dad didn’t want to mess up the Country Squire Lounge (the inside of our Ford station wagon) with mustard spills or greasy stains. But there were picnic tables for warm weather feasting, perfect for our first day of freedom lunch. Eeyore and Penny snoozed under the picnic table. The turtles, Touché, Daniel Boone and Mingo, hung out in their plastic pool and gave us beseeching looks, hoping for a French fry to nibble.

Satiated and well satisfied we jumped back in the car. Alas, the Nye kids were never great travelers. The station wagon was huge but both dogs and kids managed to stretch and sprawl and get in each other’s way. Eventually Mom would shout above the fray, “Do I need to stop this car? You don’t want me to stop this car!” Except for a few pitiful sniffles, that quieted us down for a good three, maybe five minutes.

Much to Mom’s relief, somehow or other, we always made it to our little house in the woods in one piece. Not wanting to delay another minute, we unloaded the car in a flash, threw on bathing suits and waved good bye to the turtles. Dogs in tow, we were off to the beach for another great start to another great summer in paradise.

Have a wonderful summer and bon appétit!

Crunchy Slaw with Cilantro, Mint and Peanuts

Celebrate the end of school with an easy, breezy cookout. Throw some burgers and dogs on the grill and dish up some slaw. Try my crispy, crunchy version of this old favorite. Enjoy!

Serves 12

.

8 ounces coleslaw mix or cabbage, cut in thin ribbons
8 ounces broccoli slaw
3 carrots, grated
1/2 – 1 cucumber, chopped
1 red or yellow bell pepper or a mix, chopped
4 scallions, trimmed and thinly sliced
1/4 cup roughly chopped cilantro
1/4 cup roughly chopped mint
About 3/4 cup roughly chopped salted, roasted peanuts

Make the vinaigrette (recipe follows) and let sit for at least 30 minutes to combine the flavors.

Combine the vegetables and herbs and toss to combine. Drizzle with enough spicy vinaigrette to lightly coat and toss. Let the slaw sit in the refrigerator for 2-4 hours to combine the flavors.

To serve: add half of the peanuts to the slaw and toss. Transfer the slaw to a platter and sprinkle with the remaining peanuts.

If you like a sweeter slaw, chop an crisp apple and add it to the veggies.

Spicy Vinaigrette
3-4 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon or to taste minced jalapeno
1-2 teaspoons brown sugar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1/2 cup or to taste extra-virgin olive oil or peanut oil

Put all the ingredients except the oil in a blender, process to combine. Slowly add the oil and process until well combined.

Store extra vinaigrette in the refrigerator.

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One Year Ago – New Potato Salad with Gorgonzola
Two Years Ago – Spicy Hoisin Wings
Three Years Ago – Grilled Steak & Potato Salad Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

What are your favorite last day of school memories? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going.

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2012

Final Exams Asparagus & Crostini with Sun-dried Tomato Pesto & Goat Cheese

Prison from Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables

As we coast into June, the end of the school year is just around the corner. Thank goodness! As the weather continues to warm up, classrooms get stuffier and stuffier and kids and teachers get grumpier and grumpier. Knowing that summer vacation is almost here, it gets harder to sit still and figure out when or where those two cars will pass each other. Minds begin to wander. Who knows, maybe Charles will cheat and drive sixty-five instead of sixty. Maybe Emily will take a detour to the mall to look for shoes for the prom. The same holds true for biology, English class and French. Teacher or student, anyone stuck in a classroom figures nothing is more misérable than spending a glorious, early summer day inside.

My worse year had to have been when I was in the ninth grade. My sister Brenda was a senior in high school. It was in the days before Middle School, so I was over at the Junior High with the seventh and eighth graders. My brother John was in elementary school.

As soon as college acceptances arrived, usually no later than mid-April, the seniors slacked off. The faculty did their best to keep them at their books but it was an uphill battle. Facing reality and fearing they would somehow taint the younger students, the seniors were set free in mid-May. There were still a few assemblies and graduation rehearsals but more or less, mostly more, they were done.

At the same time the ninth grade teachers decided it was time to treat us like freshman even if we were the big kids at the junior high. To that end, they ramped up the end of the school year with final exams. Sure we’d had tests and quizzes in the past but these were our first final exams. Even the words, FINAL, as in this is it, don’t screw up, and EXAM, as in much bigger than a test, sounded daunting. Not to mention, our teachers had never before expected us to remember stuff we learned back in September!

The only good part was you got to feel a little bit older. After all, only high school students took finals, not little kids in junior high. I even had the lingo down; finals not final exams. It was a long time ago so maybe they were a big deal, maybe not. What’s important is, nerd that I was (and still am), I decided finals were indeed something to worry about.

And not just worry; they were definitely a cause for too much studying. Fortunately or unfortunately I have a tendency to over-prepare. (It’s small consolation but maybe I can blame my ninth grade teachers for this neurosis.) Anyway … there was my sister … sleeping late every morning and working on her tan every afternoon. And me … I was stuck inside dark, stuffy classrooms. (Several of my teachers turned the lights off on hot days pretending it kept the classroom cooler. It didn’t.)

In the afternoon and again after a quick dinner, I was at my desk studying and studying some more. Meanwhile, my sister was free as a bird, out gallivanting or just lazing around the front steps. And my brother? Sure he was still in school but he was only in the second grade. He didn’t have homework let alone FINAL EXAMS. He too spent the afternoons and evenings outside. It was just poor pitiful me slogging away at my desk while my family enjoyed the first warm and wonderful evenings of summer.

Here’s hoping that you are enjoying many warm and wonderful evenings. Have fun and bon appétit!

Asparagus Crostini with Sun-dried Tomato Pesto & Goat Cheese
A delicious hors d’oeurvre to nibble at your next cookout or serve at your favorite graduate’s celebration! Enjoy!
Makes 16 pieces

16-32 asparagus spears
Extra virgin olive oil
16 thin slices baguette, toasted
Sun-dried Tomato Pesto (recipe follows)
6-8 ounces goat cheese, crumbled

Snap the woody ends off of the asparagus and discard. Neatly cut off the spears’ top 2 to 3 inches. (Save the remaining pieces of asparagus for soup. You can use these pieces on the crostini but the pointy spears look prettier.)

Heat a little olive in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the asparagus spears in batches (don’t crowd the pan) and stir-fry until tender-crisp, about 3 minutes.

Assemble the crostini: spread a little pesto on the toasted baguette slices, sprinkle with goat cheese and top with 1-2 asparagus tips. Serve immediately or place in a 350 degree oven for about 3 minutes to warm through.

Sun-dried Tomato & Tarragon Pesto
Makes about 1 cup

1 cup oil packed sun dried tomato halves, well drained
2 cloves garlic
2 tablespoon red wine vinegar
2-3 tablespoons fresh tarragon*
1 tablespoon fresh parsley leaves
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Extra virgin olive oil

In the small bowl of a food processor combine the sun-dried tomatoes, garlic, vinegar, tarragon and parsley, season with salt and pepper and process to chop and combine.

Add olive oil a little bit at a time until the pesto is smooth and spreadable.

* Tarragon is wonderful with asparagus but if you can’t find it or don’t have any in your garden, basil is a tasty substitute.

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One Year Ago – Wheat Berry Salad
Two Year Ago – Not Your Ordinary Burger
Three Years Ago – Strawberry Rhubarb Soup
Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

What’s your favorite end of school days story? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below. I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new story and recipe every week.

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2012

Our Wellesley Season & Bananas Foster

I lived near San Francisco for a couple of years and found the weather a bit disconcerting. As far as I could tell, there were no seasons. Every day was like a sunny day in May, not too hot and with no humidity to speak off. (My curly locks were remarkably well behaved.) My friend Julie is a California native. She insists that it takes a little time to adjust to her home State’s subtle seasonal changes. I admit I never gave it a chance. As soon as I could, I fled the west coast and headed home to New England. There is nothing subtle about New England’s seasons. (My curly locks agree and frequently misbehave).

We are now in what my mother used to call Our Wellesley Season. That’s what she called April and May when we were kids. It sounds a little fancy like we had one of those big rambling cottages in the country and an elegant mansion in the suburbs. In reality we had a little brown house in the New Hampshire woods and a nice but hardly Trump-like home in the suburbs of Boston.

Massachusetts was where we went to school and worked. New Hampshire was where we played. We spent as much time as we possibly could there. The end of the school year bell was still ringing when our station wagon hit the road and headed north to Pleasant Lake. When school started again in September we barely made it back for homeroom the first day. Throughout the fall and winter, all of our weekends and vacations were spent enjoying New Hampshire’s hills.

But here’s our guilty confession. As much as we all loved it, every spring we deserted the Granite State. Forget for better or worse. Fickle flatlanders, we kept our distance when April showers and melting snow turned the hills and fields into a muddy mess and the lake was cold and gray. It’s easy to love New Hampshire when it’s bright green, brilliant red and gold or sparkling white with snow. Even this year, when winter was remarkably short and mild, it’s clear why we stayed away. Spring is very slow in coming. Except for a few brave clumps of bright purple crocuses, everywhere you look, it’s a drab gray or brown.

That’s not to say that Boston’s suburbs were clear and sunny. April showers were commonplace but, unlike New Hampshire, April snowstorms were few and far between. I remember more than a few boring, rainy Saturday afternoons. However, there was a movie theatre in town, the television got more than one fuzzy station and the ice cream parlor was open year-round. Suburban roads were paved and our driveway was not lost in a sea of mud. Long before the snow banks melted in front of our little brown house in the woods, our garden in Wellesley was filled with cheery daffodils and tulips. Furthermore, marauding deer did not plow through those blooms like a pack of starving tourists at an all-you-can-eat Atlantic City buffet.

Now that I live in New Hampshire year-round, I have no Wellesley to escape to during Wellesley Season. (I did spend a few hours in Manchester yesterday but I don’t think that counts.) Truth be told, I don’t miss suburbia. However, a trip to the big city (any big city will do but preferably someplace warm) or a tropical island might be nice right about now!

Bon appétit!

Bananas Foster

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If someplace warm isn’t in your travel plans this spring, a traditional New Orleans dessert will cheer you up after one too many gray days. Enjoy!
Serves 4
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4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 bananas, peeled and cut on the diagonal in 1/2-inch slices
1/4 cup dark rum
Vanilla ice cream
Chopped pecans, toasted

Melt the butter in a heavy skillet over low heat. Add the brown sugar, allspice, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt and stir until the sugar dissolves. Raise the heat to medium-high and bring to a simmer. Add the bananas and cook for 2-3 minutes, carefully spooning the sauce over the bananas.

Remove the pan from the heat and add the rum. Ignite the rum, return the pan to the heat and continue cooking, swirling the sauce, until flame dies out and the sauce is syrupy, 1-3 minutes.

To serve: scoop vanilla cream into individual dessert bowls. Gently spoon the warm bananas and sauce over and around the ice cream, garnish with toasted pecans and serve immediately.

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One Year Ago – Tapenade
Two Year Ago – Lavender Infused White Chocolate Crème
Three Years Ago – Lemon Tart
Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

What do you do in early spring? Flee south or grin (or not) and bear it? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below. I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new story and recipe every week.

Want more? Click here for lots more to read, see & cook! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2012

Sweet Holidays to You & Ginger Crème Brûlée

It was a long time ago but looking back, I am filled with sympathy for the poor postman who came to our house everyday on Jackson Road. It wasn’t the dogs in the neighborhood, they were friendly. It was the holidays. Throughout December in freezing rain, sleet and snow he dragged his overloaded bag down slippery sidewalks and clamored over snow banks to reach our front door. Not just Christmas cards, he came bearing gifts. A few were from distant relatives but most were from business friends and colleagues of my dad’s. There were weighty ceramic crocks filled with cheese from Wisconsin and boxes of fruit from Florida.

One year the mailman brought us a fruitcake. I guess it was our turn.

It is not clear which was heaviest, the five pounds of cheese encased in thick crockery, the bushel of oranges or the fruitcake. Hailed as deluxe and coming all the way from Texas, that cake was studded with pecans and chock full of icky-sticky, brightly colored candied fruit. I know because, against my mother’s better judgment, I insisted that we try it

Mom was pessimistic and tried to dissuade me. But already a budding foodie and curious about most things culinary, my argument was simple. We liked fruit. We like cake. We liked my grandmother’s blueberry cake which combined fruit and cake. It only made sense that we would like this fruitcake from Texas.

I can’t be sure but I think I caught her in a moment of weakness. I’m guessing Mom was contemplating re-gifting and no doubt feeling guilty about it. She shouldn’t have been. As far as experts can determine there are only a couple hundred fruitcakes in existence. It only seems like more because they continually circle the globe in an endless cycle of re-gifting.

When I found her at the kitchen table with the fruitcake, Mom was checking her list in hopes of finding a good candidate for this hefty delight. Of course she couldn’t give it to the mailman. He’s the one who’d brought this plague of a gift into our house in the first place. The milkman, the cleaning lady and my great-aunt Bess were almost certainly on the list of possibilities. I interrupted her dithering and suggested that we try some. To her credit, Mom tried to explain the truth about fruitcake but I was seven or eight and innocent enough to think that cake was … well … cake.

That was the first, last and only time I’ve eaten fruitcake from Texas. Fancy tin or not, I’ve not been fooled again.

This doesn’t mean I’ve turned my back on sweet yuletide treats. Far from it. Over the years I’ve discovered that some, like ribbon candy, look better than they taste. Others, like sugar cookies and Aunt Anna’s Pecan Pie are nothing less than holiday kitchen icons. And yes, I’ve been drawn in by some new trend or a glossy photograph on more than one occasion. The first time it was Bûche de Noel. I was in high school and spotted one of these magnificent cakes on the cover of Ladies Home Journal or maybe it was McCall’s. Thinking it would give our Christmas Eve table a little continental flare, Bûche de Noel became my contribution to the family feast. After a few years, I got bored with the Bûche but have continued to create an ever-changing parade of festive holiday treats. Everything from cookies, cookies and more cookies to chocolate cakes and crème brûlée have made their way into and out of my oven.

And yes, I do take requests.

Best wishes for a sweet holiday and bon appétit!

Ginger Crème Brûlée
This is my latest favorite Christmas Eve dessert. I served it for the first time last year and it was so good it’s on for an encore! Enjoy!
Serves 6-8

3 cups heavy cream
2 tablespoons minced ginger
1 large egg
5 large egg yolks
1/2 cup brown sugar
Pinch salt
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon dark rum
1-2 teaspoons sugar for each serving

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

Stirring occasionally, bring the cream and ginger to a simmer in a heavy saucepan over low heat. Remove the pan from the heat and let it steep for about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, combine the egg, egg yolks, brown sugar, salt and cinnamon with an electric mixer on low speed.

With the mixer on medium speed, very slowly add the warm cream to the eggs. (If you add it too quickly or in one go, the warm cream could scramble the eggs.) Add the vanilla and rum and combine. Strain the custard through a fine-mesh sieve into a large measuring cup. Pour the custard into 4- or 6-ounce ramekins until almost full.

Arrange the ramekins in a baking or roasting pan. Carefully pour boiling water into the pan until it comes about halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Bake for about 40 minutes or until the custards are set. Add more water to the pan if needed.

Carefully remove the ramekins from the water bath, cool to room temperature and refrigerate for at least two hours.

To serve, sprinkle 1-2 teaspoons sugar evenly over the top of each custard and heat with a kitchen blowtorch until the sugar caramelizes. Let the crème brûlées sit for a minute or two until the caramelized sugar hardens and serve.

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One Year Ago – Aunt Anna’s Pecan Pie
Two Years Ago – White Chocolate & Cranberry Trifle
Three Years Ago – Chicken with Mushrooms, Tomatoes and Penne
Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new stories and recipes.

Want more? Feel free to visit my photoblog Susan Nye 365 or click here for more recipes and magazine articles or here to watch me cook!I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good.

© Susan W. Nye, 2011

Falling Leaves & Apple Crumb Cake

In spite of the warm weather, both the lovely sunny days and the not so lovely almost-tropical showers, it’s beginning to look a lot like fall. Splotches of red and yellow are becoming more pronounced on the hills surrounding Pleasant Lake. Leaves have begun to ever-so-gently fall from the trees. They float like tiny boats along the lake’s edge and skitter across the beach in the afternoon breeze. It’s lovely, tranquil, with just the right touch of poetry and romance. Until I happen to glance out my window. Those lovely autumn leaves have been making a beeline to my yard.

Then again, all those leaves remind me of Saturday afternoons on Jackson Road. I remember the cool air, the warm, golden sunlight and my dad, rake in hand. Before the lunch dishes were even cleared, Dad was out in the garage grabbing his rake. He’d spend the entire afternoon raking and piling up the endless supply of crackling, dry leaves that always found their way into our yard. Unless we were quick and disappeared, he always recruited, make that drafted, my sister Brenda and me to help. I seem to remember that my sister was much better than I at disappearing. While I was lazily dreaming up ways to spend the afternoon, my sister was quick out the door to a friend’s house or a Girl Scout meeting.

Dad would grab his big rake and a cute little one for me (and Brenda if she hadn’t managed to give him the slip). More toy than tool, I wielded my rake with courage and determination. Well, not exactly. Throughout the long afternoon, I divided my time between pretending to rake, complaining and, the best part, jumping into the enormous piles of leaves which Dad created.

As soon as the sun began to set, the air shifted from cool to downright chilly. Dad and every other father on the street made quick work of their hours of raking. Within minutes the leafy piles were reduced to small mounds of ash and the wonderful smell of burning leaves filled the neighborhood.

The ashes cooled quickly as dusk fell. We put our rakes away and hurried inside. If we’d turned to inspect the freshly raked yard, we would have seen that a late afternoon breeze had brought in a thick, new covering of leaves. But there was always another day and Mom had dinner on the stove and warm water running for a tub.

It’s been a few decades since most communities allowed it but I don’t know a single person over forty who doesn’t miss the sweet smell of burning leaves. Without the promise of that smoky perfume, our motivation to flex our muscles and get out the rake is gone. Instead we rev up the leaf blower or lawn mower. I know my grass needs to be cut at least one more time before the snow flies so why not combine two jobs in one?

These noisy power tools are a lot less enchanting than the picture of dad and daughter with rakes in hand. Their noisy roar plays havoc with the tranquility of a golden afternoon but the work is done in an hour or two not four or five. Instead of ash and smoky perfume, the great leafy piles will be turned into compost. And maybe, just maybe, some will feed a father-daughter vegetable patch or stand of sunflowers next summer.

Bon appétit!

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Apple Crumb Cake
While the smell of burning leaves on an October afternoon is nothing more than a distant memory, the warm and wonderful aroma of apples and spice can fill your kitchen today. Enjoy!

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6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus extra for the pan
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for the pan
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ginger
Grated zest of 1/2 orange
Pinch nutmeg
1 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3/4 cup sour cream
1 apple, peeled, cored and chopped
1/4 cup dried cranberries or raisins
Crumbly Topping (recipe follows)
Apple Cider Crème Anglaise (recipe follows)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter and flour a 9-inch springform pan or deep dish pie plate.

Whisk the flour, baking powder, spices and orange peel together in a small bowl.

In a larger bowl, beat the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy with an electric mixer, about 3 minutes. Add the egg, vanilla and sour cream and beat until smooth. Add the dry ingredients, a little at a time, mixing until just smooth. Fold the chopped apple and dried cranberries into the batter. Spread the batter into the prepared pan and sprinkle with the Crumbly Topping.

Bake the cake for 10 minutes then reduce the oven temperature to 325 degrees and bake the cake until golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 45-50 minutes. Let the cake cool in the pan on a rack for 10-15 minutes. Remove the springform collar and continue to cool. Serve the cake at room temperature with a spoonful of cold Apple Cider Crème Anglaise.

Crumbly Topping
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup light brown sugar, packed
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ginger
Pinch nutmeg
Pinch kosher salt
3 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter, cut in pieces
1/3 cup oatmeal

Put the flour, sugar, salt and spices in a small food processor and pulse to combine. Add the butter and pulse until the mixture resembles coarse corn meal. Add the oatmeal and pulse until the topping starts to come together in small lumps.

Apple Cider Crème Anglaise
3 cups apple cider
6 large egg yolks
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
3-4 tablespoons brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ginger
Pinch nutmeg
Pinch salt
Grated zest of 1/2 orange
2-3 tablespoons Calvados or Apple Jack (optional)

Put the cider in a small sauce pan and bring to a boil over medium high heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer until reduced to 1/2 cup.

Set a small bowl in a large one. Surround the small bowl with ice water and set aside.

Put the eggs, cream, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and salt in a blender and process until smooth. With the motor running, very slowly add the reduced cider and process until smooth.

Transfer the sauce to a small pot, add the orange zest and cook over low heat, stirring almost constantly until the sauce reaches 170 degrees on a candy thermometer. Stir in the Calvados. Pour the sauce through a fine-mesh sieve into the bowl in the ice bath. Stirring frequently, cool the crème to room temperature, cover and store in the refrigerator until cold.

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One Year Ago – Ginger Scones
Two Years Ago – Curried Eggplant Soup
Three Years Ago – Braised Beef Bourguignon

Do you have a favorite apple recipe? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below.

I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new stories and recipes.

Want more? Feel free to visit my photoblog Susan Nye 365 or click here for more recipes and magazine articles or here to watch me cook!I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good.

© Susan W. Nye, 2011

Back-to-School & Capellini with Grilled Shrimp & Fresh Tomato Sauce

And just like that the swamp maples are sporting their first bright red leaves. At least in my neighborhood, you start to hear Canadian geese honking overhead. (They like to stop and feed at the cornfield down the street.) And the definitive sign that summer has come to an end? A big, yellow school bus rumbles down the hill to pick up the neighborhood kids in front of the post office. To make it doubly tough, the post office just happens to sit right next to the beach.

It’s back-to-school and back to reality. The first day of school, especially that first day of kindergarten, is always an exciting day. Or at least it was for me. I was always one of those hopeless nerds who actually liked school. My older sister Brenda blazed the trail ahead of me. Since she seemed to manage okay, I figured I could do the same. Besides, the first day of school meant new shoes and a special new dress to start the year. Like good luck charms, our shiny, new duds helped bolster our confidence to face new teachers, kids and challenges. Mom took the two of us downtown to Filene’s on a quest for Buster Brown shoes and Polly Flinders dresses. If we behaved ourselves and didn’t take too long, we could usually talk her into a sundae, or at least an ice cream cone, at Bailey’s.

Kindergarten was divided into two sections, morning and afternoon. The mothers in the neighborhood gave a collective sigh of relief when I was assigned to the afternoon session.

I was one of those sleepy headed kids who woke up slowly. I would eventually wander down to the kitchen and dawdle over my breakfast cereal at a leisurely pace. Next I meandered back upstairs. On the way, I might stop and cuddle with one or both dogs, take a detour onto the living room couch to ponder some great philosophical question or check in with Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Greenjeans. Still moving in slow motion, I took forever making my bed and getting dressed.

The mothers were convinced that I’d never make it out the door by 8:00. I think that they were probably right. So while my third grade sister waved goodbye and trudged up the hill to Joseph E. Fiske Elementary School, I hung around in my jammies and spent a few more leisurely mornings with the Captain.

I think I did alright in kindergarten. Although I didn’t set the world on fire with brains and wit, I didn’t weep at the drop of a hat, pick fights on the playground or talk back to the teacher. I was an agreeable little thing, who liked to giggle and was prone to frequent daydreaming. A sweet girl, I was delighted to play with anyone and everyone and just as happy with my own company. Come to think of it, not much has changed over the years.

After all, to paraphrase Robert Fulghum all you really need to know you learn in kindergarten. Nowadays, some schools teach kindergarteners a few reading fundamentals and a little arithmetic. Not my teacher, she focused on the basics and reinforced the good stuff our moms and dads were already trying to teach us. Stuff like:

Share.
Play nice.
Don’t hit.
Pick up your toys.
If you do something wrong, apologize.
Don’t forget to say please and thank you.
Wash your hands.
Cover your nose and mouth when you sneeze or cough.
Buddy up.
Look both ways before you cross the street.

September is a beautiful month to enjoy the change of seasons and celebrate all you learned in kindergarten. Share a favorite bike route, fabulous book or a cup of tea with a friend, practice simple acts of kindness, say thank you like you mean it and do, hold hands and enjoy the Indian summer sunshine.

Bon appétit!

Grilled Shrimp with Pasta & Fresh Tomato Sauce
Fresh local tomatoes combine with grilled shrimp and pasta for a wonderful end of summer meal. Enjoy!
Serves 6-8

About 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1-2 scallions, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
Dash or two (or to taste) hot pepper sauce
About 20 ripe plum tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 pound capellini (angel hair pasta) or spaghetti
6 to 8 fresh basil leaves, cut in chiffonade*
Grilled Shrimp (recipe follows)

Put the olive oil, vinegar, scallions, garlic and hot pepper sauce in a large bowl and whisk to combine. Set aside while you prep the tomatoes to combine the flavors.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Set up an ice bath in a large bowl. Cut a small X on the bottom of each tomato. A few at a time, dunk the tomatoes in the boiling water for about 15 seconds. Remove them from the pot and plunge immediately into the ice water. Pull the skin off with a paring knife. Cut the tomatoes in half, scoop out the seeds and chop.

Add the chopped tomatoes to the olive oil mixture, season with salt and pepper and toss to combine. Let the tomatoes sit for 15-20 minutes at room temperature to combine the flavors.

Cook the pasta according to package directions less 1 minute. Drain and return the pasta to the pot. Add the tomatoes to the pasta, toss to combine and cook over medium-high heat for 1 minute. Sprinkle the pasta with half of the basil chiffonade and toss to combine. Transfer the pasta to a serving platter or individual plates, top with the grilled shrimp and remaining basil and serve immediately.

*To chiffonade is to stack the leaves one on top of the other and then cut into thin ribbons.

Grilled Shrimp
2 cloves garlic
1/4 small red onion
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
1/2 teaspoon (or to taste) hot pepper sauce
1/4 cup dry white wine
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 pounds large shrimp, peeled and deveined
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Wooden skewers or a grill basket to cook the shrimp (if using wooden skewers, soak them in water for at least 30 minutes)

Put the garlic, onion, thyme, hot pepper sauce, wine and olive oil in a small food processor or blender and season with salt and pepper. Process to combine and finely chop the garlic and onion. Let the marinade sit for 10-15 minutes to combine the flavors.

Put the shrimp and marinade in a bowl, toss to combine and marinate in the refrigerator for 15-30 minutes.

Heat the grill to medium-high. Thread the shrimp onto the wooden skewers or toss them in the grill basket. Grill the shrimp, turning once, until just opaque, about 1-2 minutes per side.

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One Year Ago – Roasted Almonds
Two Years Ago – Grilled Swordfish with Caponata
Three Years Ago – Harira (Middle Eastern Soup with Chicken, Chick-Peas and Lentils)  

Do you remember your first day of school? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below.

I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new story and recipe every week.

Feel free to visit my other, cleverly named blog, Susan Nye’s Other Blog, or photoblog Susan Nye 365. You can find more than 250 recipes, links to magazine articles and lots more on my website. I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good.©Susan W. Nye, 2010