Stories

It came to me in a flash: sell the house. After my husband lost his second job in eight months and after my agent stopped returning my calls. It was the solution to all our problems. We hired a realtor – a young energetic woman called Jen – and made a plan. We would sell our three bedroom home and move to a loft in downtown Los Angeles. We would be downsizing, but it would be chic.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, selling the home that we had lived in for twenty-one years and raised our children. But really there was no alternative to our diminished earning capacity. Added to the embarrassment of having a ‘For Sale’ sign planted on our front lawn and explaining to all our inquisitive neighbors why and where we were moving. What I had failed to take into account was the effect that this momentous decision would have on our eating habits. What nobody tells you when you are trying to sell a house is that cooking in your home becomes virtually verboten.

In these tough economic times if you want to sell, you have to ‘Stage’. When you live in the film capital of the World, people want to buy houses that look like movie sets. This requires cramming every personal item you own into a closet and making your house look like nobody lives in it. But at the same time it has to look like Martha Stewart was your interior decorator.

Many would say the only way to prepare Brussels sprouts, the cruciferous vegetables that look like a miniature cabbage, is to roast them. I do love the ease of preparing roasted Brussels sprouts. The nutty flavor they develop in a hot oven is magnificent. But, there is another way to prepare the little green sprouts that offers wonderful flavor and crisp texture.

I’ve discovered that by slicing Brussels sprouts into thin ribbons, they can be stir-fried with other vegetables.

A little time with your chef’s knife is all it takes to prepare the sprouts for stirring up in a hot pan with onions, peppers and garlic. Add some honey and vinegar for a sweet and sour flavor. Then, just stir in some cooked wild rice. Viola!

Asparagus Cheese Puffs
Bacon-Wrapped Shrimp
Baked Crab and Almond Dip
Chicken Liver Pate
Creamy Crab and Caviar Parfaits
Crostini with Mushrooms and Blue Cheese
Holly Palance's Foolproof Caviar Pie
Home-Made Crab Cakes
Hot Wing Mini Cakes
Ina Garten's Roasted Eggplant Spread
Kahlua-Pecan-Brown Sugar Baked Brie
Parmesan Gougeres
Peperoni in Bagna Cauda
Pesto, Olive, and Roasted-Pepper Goat Cheese Torta
Savory Sausage and Fennel Galette
Smoked Salmon Dip
Sweet & Spicy Rosemary Nuts
Taleggio-Stuffed Mushrooms
Warm and Creamy Bacon Dip

Lillet Champagne Cocktail | Champagne Punch | Aviation Cocktail | Moscow Mule

You will be pleased to know that I will not rant, complain, sigh or otherwise indicate my GREAT displeasure with the week that has just passed. Suffice it to say that Mistakes Were Made. I will, instead, look at the good stuff: we ate our first Michigan asparagus of the year, all of the flowering trees are just popping into bloom and looking and smelling so good that it’s almost surreal, the vegetable seeds that Sam and I planted are mostly coming up, I found a fantastic bread recipe, and I got a beautiful box of lemons in the mail from Eric, in San Francisco. (About which more, later). In the TMI department, I started meditating this week and found that I can sit cross-legged for 20 minutes, and that I can keep random thoughts from intruding about 10% of the time. It may not sound like much, but my mind is a busy place, and I find that my “ohms” are frequently swept away by a recollection of the picture that was taken for my London Tube pass 24 years ago, or musings about which Netflix movie to watch.

I also found a great iGoogle widget which tells me what is in season at this time of this month in my state. It may be optimistic, but I have some evidence to support it’s claim that I should be able to find Michigan asparagus, potatoes, peas, greens, herbs and rhubarb. I have made a menu centered around those as my fresh produce items, and I’m also buying the relatively little meat we need from the meat guy at the Farmers Market (along with eggs and butter). Here’s the plan: