We made it! We may have arrived at 4am, but we made it to Vermont. Our new home is more amazing than I could have imagined - the garden is broad and overgrown, the lawn is expansive and half-marsh, there's a duck pond, and lilacs. Oh, the lilacs. There's a chicken coop, a big chicken coop, desperately in need of some scooping, and scrubbing before some ladies can move in. Did I mention the side yard that will one day be turned into the breakfast patio?

And the view?

We've nicknamed the new place based on what we know of previous renters and the yard: Goat Willow Estate. (The last tenant had some goats.) Things are settling down, we're settling in and it feels as though we're eating better than ever. We've moved in with two of our friends who are both excellent cooks. I believe I've already mentioned Cynthia and her cookie making method, here she is in action:

What's that in the blurry box that she's measuring into her hand? Baking soda.

Oats.

These cookies are badass. Just like Cynthia.

Maybe you already knew this, but in case you didn't: I'm a real home-body. I love being home. I love spending mornings in my kitchen, I love rearranging the furniture, I love hanging clothes on the line to dry, I kind of like hanging shelves, and I prefer to stay in my pajamas rather than put on "real clothes".

Friday morning we head out for new/old home - back to Vermont. We'll drive about 20 hours and roll up to a sweet house with a big barn and two of our favorite people in the whole world. This means the blog will be on a little break, but when it comes back it'll be better than ever. There will be a big garden, enough people in the house to warrant making desserts regularly, better lighting, probably some home improvement projects (repainting a bath tub, anyone?), and more!

In the meantime, I suggest you check out the blog by Ashley English: Small Measure. I picked up a copy of her book Keeping Chickens with Ashley English today in order to prepare for the flock I hope to be tending at our new house. (I could inundate you with cat pictures, but I'd rather overwhelm you with chicken pictures.)

You could also pass the time making this Swiss Easter Rice Tart! George was big, big fan of this because it's not terribly sweet. It is, however, terribly delicious.

I've been meaning to write, I really have, but you know how it goes - computers crash and need to be replaced after you thought it'd been fixed three times, winter finally freezes you in and you want nothing more than to be warm and watch movies that remind you this season will pass and life will return, you simply forget, you go to Atlanta, you lose your camera in one of the four bags you use daily, you can't think of anything good to say so you don't say anything at all.

I'd like to assure you, though, that while my brain may be hibernating, my kitchen is not.

There were some chicken strips:

Peanut butter toast in the pre-dawn snow:

All the unsatisfactory lemon scones which Geo ate most of in one day:

Aliens in both our bread and artichokes on the same day:

There have been a couple batches of beer George brewed with our friend Taft:

We discovered Brussels sprouts when we actually, for real, couldn't find kale in the grocery store:

George launched into a couple weeks of curries after finding a cheap book all about curries:

Finally we ended up with some radicchio in last night's dinner, Chicken Baked with Lentils, via The Wednesday Chef. :

As we truly hunkered down for winter here something incredible happened: we kept cooking and it wasn't an insurmountable task. I made vegetable stock regularly which got used in making rice and couscous and to help steam kale. Days without meals planned showed up and between us Geo and I could manage to whip up a decent dinner that was nutritious and delicious - not simply mac & cheese with peas. I'm remembering to soak beans overnight, to take frozen chicken out to thaw the night before, I'm making enough food to take to work for lunch. It's a dream come true.

Food quality's been on a roller coaster lately: today there was delicious, lovingly prepared couscous and kale and yesterday there was a bag of Pirate's Booty, Peanut M&M's, and some Vitamin Water. In fact, that's sort of what life's been like lately, and while it's true that life's full of these ups and downs this time it's a little more severe. All my projects were on track, they were big, they were exciting, they were real - not like those projects I just said I was going to finish. I was proud and motivated. Then my dad was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma. The doctor is optimistic, dad is optimistic, I'm optimistic, but optimism doesn't magically lessen his pain or magically transport me home.

So I sulk, I thrash around the house, I putter, I watch a lot of movies and TV on Netflix. This entry of Multiple Myeloma into my life feels like it's a secret, like one of those things that isn't real unless I talk about it. Today I've got a little recap of foods I've made since last we spoke and my favorite cookie recipe to share.

Samosas!

Homemade curry powder made after a trip to Dunkin Donuts!

This is where the curry powder ended up: dal! This must be almost a gallon of lentils, we ate about three quarts before we just couldn't eat any more.

Our prettiest loaf of No-Knead bread yet!

Cookies were an integral part of my youth. My mom's Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies are well known around my old elementary school. Friends used to come over just for the cookies. I've developed my own standard version of the Chocolate Chip Cookie, it's adapted from The Moosewood Restaurant's New Classics and from my friend Cynthia's method. (I say "method" as opposed to "recipe" because she's an eye-baller, you know, "Meeeeh, abooooout this much.")

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Coconut Cookies

3/4 c. butter

1 c. dark brown sugar, packed

2 eggs

1 1/2 c. unbleached white flour

3/4 c. whole wheat pastry flour

1/2-3/4 c. rolled oats

1/4-1/2 c. flaked coconut

1 t. baking soda

1/2 t. cinnamon

1 t. salt

2 t. vanilla extract

2 c. chocolate chips

2 T. water

Preheat oven to 375.

Cream the butter and sugar together until smooth, then beat in the eggs until blended. Add flours, baking soda, salt and cinnamon and mix well. Add oats, coconut, chocolate chips, and vanilla, mix well. If the dough feels too dry or doesn't want to hold together mix in the water.

Scoop the dough into 2-3" balls and place on cookie sheet, bake for up to 10 minutes, checking after 8. The edges should be light brown and the tops golden.

For some variation: use light brown sugar and dried cranberries instead of chocolate chips. They're also delicious with extra coconut.

Despite my best efforts, positive thinking, and water drinking it happened: I got sick. It was a quick little 48-hour head cold - the kind where you think your eyes are going to explode. (Fortunately, my eyes did not explode.)

- Walnut Flax No-Knead Bread

- Roasted Beet Risotto

- Poached Catfish

I think the longest paper I ever wrote in college was a 15-pager about the artist Yves Klein. He's the guy in that photo who looks like he's swan-diving from the ledge of the building, you know, this one. He hosted those evenings where women would paint their bodies blue and press themselves against canvas. (He called these anthropometries.) He also did fire paintings. He patented his own color: International Klein Blue, IKB for short. He painted large canvases with this color and only this color. He believed the color blue had no dimensions, it was...beyond.

I like color and I like believing it's "beyond". I like going to hardware stores and collecting stacks of paint samples - and I mean stacks. My preferred designer to collect is Martha Stewart (available at Lowe's,) a close second is Mythic Paint. Not only are their paints non-toxic, but their samples come in sheets. Sheets! Color is calming for me, it's lets me breathe, it's like an inhaler.

Did you know that when added to bread walnuts turn the dough sort of purple-ish? It's true. See:

We can't get enough of this No-Knead Bread, we go through a loaf of two a week. I look forward to eating oven-fresh bread slathered in butter, it's one of the greatest experiences - ever. George made this loaf on Saturday and it set the tone for Sunday. I almost remade the strudel from last time, but the walnuts made me think of beets. (Duh.) So bright, so pretty, so unreal. The color of beets tells me everything's going to be okay. The only acceptable option was going to be either a giant bowl of beets or beets added to something that would become bright pink - a.k.a rice.

With little trouble, a Risotto with Beet Greens and Roasted Beets recipe was located on the NY Times website and we were off and running. The other think I love about beets is that you can eat the whole thing! Roots! Greens! It's all delicious. Bonus: the greens look great in a sea of beet risotto.

Second bonus: living where we do we can get some great catfish locally. Triple bonus: I found an awesome incredibly easy recipe for poached fish. It takes 15 minutes, tops. I've used this recipe for sole, catfish, and tilapia.

Poached Catfish

from Real Simple

1 lb. catfish fillets

3/4 c. dry white wine (water is also acceptable)

2 T. capers

2 T. olive oil

2 T. chopped chives

salt & pepper to taste

Cut each fillet in half, you know, "spatula size". Heat wine in a large skillet, then add fish, drizzle with olive oil and capers. Cover and cook over medium-low heat for 4 minutes, they'll become opaque and will flake easily. Sprinkle with chives.

Last week was lazy. I only amounted to making shortbread, half of which George ate in two days and the other half was given away. It was the sort of shortbread that I took a bite of, put my piece down - saving it for later, but when I went back it was gone. This week's a little more productive, there's actual food and more cookies.

- Kale & Red Pepper Strudel

- Pesto

- Bagels

- Rugelach

My heart was initially only in it for the cookies, but after having to scrounge and scramble for lunches last week I could commit to making something real this time around. Spending these Sundays making things to take for lunch, eat for snack, and sometimes even again for dinner is truly a life-saver. Without it I eat toast three times a day and call them meals, I end up snacking on more and more cake at work, I rely on milk and coffee to propel me through the day, and pasta – lots of pasta for dinner, and sometimes there's sauce.

I've never used phyllo (filo, fillo) dough for anything. It's flaky, it's used for strudels, baklava, Spanikopita. That's about the extent of what I know about it. This Kale & Red Pepper Strudel is like Spanikopita but with a different set of vegetables and cheeses. Here's what I've learned about phyllo dough: it's really thin and delicate. It's so delicate that when I unrolled the package I thought the dough was actually parchment around the dough. I can't imagine making this stuff from scratch. I've also learned that it's a bit of a pain in the ass. It's so thin it's like it almost doesn't exist. How is this not going to completely fall apart? I layed out the dough as directed: on a 10” x 14” sheet pan, and oiled between every two layers. Then I put the filling in the middle and supposedly could fold up the edges of the dough to hold in the filling and then place the rest of the dough on top like a little dough hat. This wasn't exactly the case and wasn't going to go well – I could feel it.

I finished assembling and then I made a bold move: I trusted my instincts. When I make a recipe for the first time I'm sort of stick in the mud and I like to follow the recipe – blindly trusting that whoever wrote it in the first place isn't leading me down a path of frustration to disappointment. I like to think that following the written recipe will give me a basic understanding of what's supposed to happen and how things are supposed to go, and then, armed with that knowledge I can make whatever it is better. (Yes, I believe I can make it better. Every. Single. Time.) Today, though, I deviated. The dough was only 9” x 13”, it wasn't folding up over the filling well, it was absolutely going to spill out all over the pan and burn and be ugly. It wasn't going to happen on my watch, not today. I buttered my 9” x 13” Pyrex, I place it over the assembled strudel and flipped it all over. That's right, I put it into a smaller pan with taller edges than the recipe told me to.

This is the larger lesson I've been working on lately: to trust myself. It's like baking cake (everything is like baking cake for me, these days,) regardless of how long that carrot cake's been in the oven if the knife comes out with a few crumbs and it doesn't spring back when I gently press on the top – it's not done. If I can't remember whether the vegan pumpkin cupcakes should get a little more than one scoop or not but am pretty they should because the vegan chocolate cupcakes do – they probably do. If the cassaroley thing looks like it's going to turn into a huge cheesey mess if left on the baking sheet that the recipe told me to use – it's probably going to turn into a huge cheesey mess. After cooking for myself for 10 years, I'm proud to say that I've learned a few things, things I trust and know to be true from experience.

Maybe it was the pesto making that set me up for the crazy move to use a different pan than specified. The temperatures in Asheville are reaching down in the 30s at night and while we've been neglecting the garden for a least a month, George was good enough to harvest the rest of basil before it was too late. We had about 10 cups of basil and no recollection of which pesto recipe we used last time, I just knew it was really good and it wasn't from The Moosewood or Joy. We then assumed it was from Best Recipes in the World, but pesto wasn't even in the index. I told George he was in charge of the pesto and to make it however he liked. I was nervous, trying to be helpful without being a squasher*. It was difficult. In the end, I'm happy to say that the pesto turned out deliciously.

Pesto

10 c. fresh basil leaves

2/3 c. pine nuts

1/3 c. walnuts

1 c. grated Parmesan

1 c. olive oil

salt to taste

Put everything except the oil into a food processor, pulse a few times to start combining the ingredients. Turn the processor on and add the oil through the feed tube stopping to scrape down the sides if necessary.

So the rugelach. It's a Jewish cookie which is more like a pastry. Butter and cream cheese are cut into the flour and there's a little wet (I used half & half) to hold it together. It's rolled out and chilled in the freezer for half an hour - a crucial part, I assure you. After it's good and cold, cinnamon and sugar are sprinkled on, followed by chopped walnuts, sometimes raisins, sometimes chocolate, I used almonds. Next you roll the dough up into a swirly, cinnamony log and cut each cookie about an inch wide and chill them in the freezer for another 15 minutes - a crucial part, I assure you. It's like making the pie dough flaky - the cold butter serves as a place holder for the air space between the layers of flour. If the butter is allowed to melt into the flour prematurely the cookies will come out flatter and sadder, but just as tasty.

(I was going to take a picture showing the difference between cookies chilled long and enough and not long enough, but we ate all the sad ones first.)

* squasher: one who prevents fun

As promised, we whipped up some stock a couple weeks ago. Big surprise, in order to make chicken stock one actually needs a whole chicken. My PSA for the week: read the entire recipe before you start. We'd already eaten the chicken; we opted for vegetable stock.

More and more we're finding uses for stock, like: soups, couscous (pearled, aka Israeli, couscous is currently my favorite), rice...okay so it's mostly just grains at this point, but you get the idea. I'm not opposed to those incredibly handy tetra packs of stock, but making it yourself requires just a little chopping and a bunch of waiting. This is the sort of thing I'd like to make at least a gallon of it to have on hand, and we aimed for a gallon, but in fact ended up with about half as much.

The idea of stock is pretty basic - boil vegetables and/or meats to extract flavor and nutrients, then use it to flavor other things. We began by roasting the vegetables, which is optional, but I figure if I'm going to bother making it, why not. So, roast up the veggies and garlic, transfer them to a large stock pot and add water, meat, bones, and herbs. Then cover, simmer, and wait. Some recipes call for a few hours, some call for half a day. Lastly, what's left of the vegetables and meats are strained out.

I'd intended to make soup from the stock, but by the end of the five or six hour simmering session I needed something more exciting to cook. George is in charge of cooking certain things around here: eggs, meats and risotto. These are things that require patience and dedication, these things some more naturally to him than to me. Asparagus Salmon Risotto is was, and it was delicious.

Mostly Vegetable Stock

adapted from Mark Bittman's Vegetable Stock, and Joy of Cooking's Chicken Stock

1/3 - 1/2 c. olive oil

3 large onions, quartered

5 carrots, quartered

4 celery stalks, halved

4 small-medium sized potatoes, washed, quartered

1 head garlic, peeled

bones & leftover meat from 1, 4lb. chicken

4 sprigs fresh thyme

12 sprigs fresh parsley

small handful fresh basil

2 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar

some peppercorns

1/2 c. dry white wine

7 c. water

salt

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Put onions, carrots, celery, potatoes, and garlic in a large roasting pan, toss with olive oil and place in the oven. Let veggies roast about 45 minutes, turning vegetables over a couple times until everything is browned.

After roasting is finished scoop veggies into a large stock pot, add remaining ingredients, 4 cups water and place over high heat.

Place the roasting pan over a burner, add about 4 c. water (depending on height of pan), and turn heat to high. Bring to a boil, scraping all the bits stuck to the pan. Add this to the stock pot and being to a boil.

Cover and barely simmer for 5 - 6 hours.

Strain, pressing veggies to extract as much liquid as possible. Add salt, if necessary. Stock is now ready to be used, refrigerated (keeps for up to 4 or 5 days), or frozen.