Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

I'm channeling cookout weather! If I continue to make side dishes perfect for a weekend barbecue, maybe mother nature will play along. While we have had a few scattered 80-degree days, the rain and clouds keep inserting themselves into the mix. Let's face it, the weather in the Pacific Northwest is really not summer-like until July, but I can always hope and continue to eat like the season has arrived.

Anyway, let's talk about horseradish. Do you love it or hate it? I know I dislike when horseradish is so overwhelming that my nose starts to run. It can really be overpowering. So, don't worry, this salad is not like that. The horseradish is more of a background flavor. You will know it's there but it will not assault you.

In fact this salad has so many lovely flavors to celebrate. I absolutely love the way it turned out. I couldn't help but add some fresh oregano from the garden. Fresh herbs make a regular salad "pop" when it comes to taste. This salad will easily accompany many of your summer favorite grilled foods. Think of serving it on the side with bbq chicken, juicy burgers or thick pork chops. Wow, I'm getting hungry just mentioning all of those things.

Time to make another batch!!

I found the secret to the crispiest, most delicious home fries.

It all started with a late night binge. I was still hungry (or maybe just bored…) after dinner one night, so I decided to make a baked potato. While I was waiting, I snacked on about a million other things, and when my potato was ready, I wasn’t hungry anymore. The potato spent the night in the fridge.

While I was thinking about breakfast the next morning, I decided to see what I could whip up with the potato…and wow, if you want a quick and easy breakfast side, this is the way to go!

When I was growing up in England in the fifties and sixties, there was a snack called a flapjack that could be occasionally bought at bakeries but was more often found in homes, served up by diligent housewives. It was never found at my home: the only time my mother turned on the stove was to light a cigarette. But some of my friends’ mothers did make them, and the sweet, buttery smell of freshly baked flapjacks is one of those childhood aromas that still haunt me today.

Now, for the American reader a point of clarification is required. British flapjacks bear absolutely no resemblance to American ‘flapjacks’, which seems to be just another word for pancakes. The British flapjack is a unique item unto itself, but if a comparison is required, I suppose a granola bar would come closest in look and texture. But it is simpler, more elemental, only requiring four ingredients (long before Michael Pollan came up with his five ingredient mantra): oats, sugar, butter and golden syrup.

The biggest problem with dating an ultra-runner is how unimpressive your small, daily achievements seem in comparison.  My boyfriend, Shannon, ran 8 ultra-marathons (marathons longer than 26.2 miles) in 2012, bringing his race and training mileage to around 3500 miles in just one calendar year. 3500 miles- the distance from New York to Los Angeles, on foot.

I’m still in a great deal of denial about the whole thing.

One of the perks of dating an ultra-runner, however, is that you get to cheer them on in some truly amazing places.  This past January, we traveled to Hawaii so he could compete in one of the hardest ultra-marathons in the world; The H.U.R.T. 100 Mile Endurance Run.

“Compete” is actually the wrong word.  Most 100 mile races are so challenging that the runners try to concentrate more on finishing than finishing first.  I learned a lot on this trip while listening to racers tell stories about how desperately they wanted to quit mid-race but reached deep within themselves and found the emotional and physical fortitude to continue on.

But wait a minute.  Back to me.