"summer"

Realizations

The Monster is a temperamental child. She will be fantastically fine, happy and cheerful 95% of the time. But then you tell her no to just the wrong thing and not only is she upset, like any 4 year old, but the world ends for her. It is infinitely frustrating and one of the biggest challenges of parenting for me.

Up until a certain point today we were all enjoying a lovely, late summer ease. A quiet morning with bread and jam for breakfast. Our normal Sunday morning jaunt to the farmers' market for coffee and a few groceries. The girls napped while Hubby and I sat on the porch swing chatting and petting the dogs. It was all good.

Then I had to go to the grocery store. And another, and another. And I spazzed, yelling at people in traffic and getting right cranky. Then I had a scary moment of clarity. The Monster is me. Yikes, I made her that way. (I'm sorry Mom and Dad.) 

I was still spazzing when I got home, but then I started cooking. I had tomatoes in the oven, slow roasting. I added some peaches, then popped a pork roast in. Smilosaurus helped me tear kale for kale chips. And my bad mood dissipated as quickly as it came.  Just like we send The Monster for a quiet time when she is being unreasonable, I found my quiet time in the kitchen, making Sunday dinner.

A little while later we welcomed an old friend to our home. We cracked some beers. We caught up on travels, the farm, and the challenges and smiles of parenthood. We devoured the meal in front of us. And when The Monster lost it when Hubby took away the cheetah babies after she hit her little sister with them all I could do was hang my head in laughter at the realization that I indeed made my kid.


Pork Loin Roast with Roasted Tomatoes and Peaches

2 pints cherry tomatoes
4 tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper
1 1/2 tsp coriander seeds
3 peaches
2 pound pork roast, boneless rib end
1/2 onion
1 tbsp fresh mint, chopped

1. Preheat oven to 275 degrees F.
2. Wash and dry the tomatoes. Cut in half. Place cut side up on a large cookie sheet. Drizzle with 2 tbsp olive oil and season well. Grind 1/2 tsp of the coriander seeds and sprinkle over the tomatoes as well. Place in the oven.
3. After an hour cut the peaches into quarters. Tuck them in among the tomatoes.
4. Pat dry your roast with paper towels, keep it tied up as you bought it. Season well with salt and pepper. Get the remaining 2 tbsp oil hot in a roasting pan or dutch oven. Brown the pork on all sides, leaving it for a couple of minutes each time to get good colour. Move the roast to the side, add the onions and remaining coriander seeds (left whole) to the pan. Cook for a couple of minutes, then move the roast back to the middle of the pan. Cover and put in the oven. Increase the heat to 325 degrees F. Roast for 1 hour.
5. Check the internal temperature of the roast. It should register at least 140 degrees F when you take it out of the oven. Keep it covered in the roasting pan, it will continue to cook a bit more as it rests.
6. Place the tomatoes and peaches on a serving dish, top with chopped mint. After the pork has rested 10-15 minutes remove strings and slice. Serve with tomatoes and peaches.

Introductions


A photo essay on my first conscious gluten free baking experience. Lauren from Celiac Teen came over this morning, a date arranged shortly after we realized we only lived blocks from each other. Through a rainy walk she brought with her a backpack full of flours. We were going to make pie. 

The girls took to her immediately, probably assuming she was some fantastic creature known as the babysitter. Their excitement was no less once they realized we were all going to bake together. We donned aprons, we measured flour, we drank tea while our pastry chilled. Then we cut up peaches and plums to mix with blackberries and tonka bean. And while our galettes baked the little ones chased us around the house. It was comfort and chaos all at once. Welcome to our home, Lauren.

And the pastry? Fantastic. It tasted great raw, and even better cooked. It was a tender dough to work with, so I worried that it wouldn't be very flaky. I was wrong. To be honest, you would be hard pressed to pick out out from a conventional pate brisee.

We filled it with our fruit, a touch of sugar and millet flour and a whole tonka bean grated in. The crust we brushed with cream. The galettes baked for 30 minutes. And after our conversations we sat silently with our tonka bean sweetened cream on top of our galettes. Silent only as the four of us devoured an entire galette for lunch.












The Letter S

Pardon me while I get sappy.

You see, this week I've also been recovering from a medical issue. It's made me tired, shaky, and mopey. So this afternoon, after I put some tomato sauce in a slow oven to come together, I took a nap. Wrapped in the arms of my husband. It was the best nap ever.

So tonight's dinner was spaghetti and meatballs, and for dessert, strawberry ice cream. More specifically, strawberry sour cream ice cream. It was the slightly more elegant version of Baba's berries and cream. It was all comfort food.

The ice cream recipe comes from, who else? David Lebovitz. All the recipes in my books were custards and I didn't have many eggs in the house. So a little search led to many, many descriptions of this ice cream from The Perfect Scoop. It seemed like fate considering the pounds of strawberries I bought at the market and my own need for comfort. 

But no amount of comfort food can replace the love of your best friend.



Strawberry Sour Cream Ice Cream
(With great thanks, perhaps literally as I don't actually own The Perfect Scoop, to David Lebovitz.)

1 pound strawberries
3/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp vodka
1 cup sour cream
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 tsp lemon juice

1. Rinse, hull, and quarter your strawberries. Toss with the sugar and vodka. Let sit for an hour or so.
2. Add in sour cream, cream, and lemon juice. Blitz with a hand blender, leaving it as chunky as you want.
3. Chill for an hour. Process with ice cream maker. Freeze until ready to eat.