Monthly Archives: March 2011

“When I smell it, it’s done.”

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Last night at work, my co-worker casually mentioned that she wasn’t sure if she had ever had Irish Soda Bread.

“What? How? Really?” I asked.

“Jennie, make some tonight and bring it in tomorrow,” Liz declared.

And that is exactly what I did. First, though, I had to call my house.

“Hello? Dad? Dad. Where are you? I need you to go to the kitchen. I need you to find mom’s soda bread recipe. It’s probably in the binder, on the counter with the cookbooks.”

About fifteen minutes later, with details yesterday and a, “You’re lucky that I watched mom make this yesterday,” and a “It says raisins or currants, but use currants,” and a “Crisco? This calls for Crisco. She used butter, use butter,” I was on my way.

I realized something. Here in California, I can get chiles, and dried Mexican spices, and there is a Latino aisle, but with that comes a lack of basics I’d find on the East coast, or even the Midwest. Which means no currants.

So, for one of the first times I replied to the question, “Did you find everything you need?” with, “No, actually. Currants? Do you not carry them?” The patient woman explained to me, “Well if we did have them, they’d be with the…”

“Raisins.” I stated. “I know. OK. Thanks.”

Besides the lack of currants, the night turned out swimmingly. Well that, and the fact that somehow I am out of sugar. How can that be true? I have super-fine sugar from when we made creme brulee, but no regular sugar. Super-fine is what I used, and I’ll have to restock my kitchen before Corelyn knows about this travesty.

I arrived home, cooked dinner, and started in on the soda bread. Which goes so fast when you have a Kitchenaid, I must say. Last night I also discovered the first recipe that I couldn’t find in my Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook: Soda bread.

I just needed to know how long to bake my bread for. Turns out, this wasn’t written on my mom’s recipe, and my dad laughed when I asked today and said, “Mom’s answer was when I smell it, it’s done.” Which might be true, but I needed a number. Luckily, The Barefoot Contessa has me covered. She suggested 30-45 minutes, and mine ended up taking about 30 minutes.

I brought half the soda bread to work today, along with a half-stick of butter for smearing. Two or three pieces later, it was a good St. Patrick’s Day.

Mom’s recipe:

3 cups all-purpose flour (she says to sift. Palluzzis never sift.)
2/3 cup sugar
1 tbsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp kosher salt
1 1/2 cup currants/raisins (use currants if you can find ’em. Makes it that much better.)
2 eggs, beaten
2 cups buttermilk
2 tbsp melted butter

1. Sift together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
2. Add raisins.
3. In a separate bowl, beat eggs, add melted butter and buttermilk, stir.
4. Slowly add to flour mixture. Stir until combined, but don’t over beat.
5. Put in greased loaf pans.
6. Bake at 30-45 minutes at 375.

Devour with butter, or clotted cream. Delicious.

Ides of March

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Today is the Ides of March. It’s best known as being the day that Caesar was killed. In antiquity it was dedicated to the god Mars (god of war, god of agriculture.) And I plan on bringing that antiquity back, as my plants are staging a coup and threatening to overthrow my kitchen and my life.

My basil is flowering. My rosemary is drying before my eyes. The aloe is taking over my porch now, and the jasmine is browning, I just planted flowers in a pot that doesn’t have a good draining system, and Jeff’s tropical leaf plant is half alive.

This past weekend I repotted the rosemary after its roots crawled out the drainage hole it its pot and attacked my metal Buddha that oversees the window garden. I put the aloe into the ivy pot. (Sorry ivy but you were just dead. You just were. And I’m sorry that it was me who killed you.) I then put said aloe outside, to free up window space. Soon, when I grace the farmer’s market with my presence again, I will see what other options I have. In the meantime I might try to cut and re-root my basil (I don’t know whether this is possible or not) and I am also going to revive my rosemary, and see what I can do about those flowers I planted.

The answer to most of my questions, I am sure, is research, and a good trip to the Home Depot. And maybe sacrificing a pig to Mars.

Waitin’ for the daylight to bring me home…

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I’ve been saying all weekend that I want to update my blog, even though I don’t have much to update you on. Life has been cycling through work, home, sleep, and work again, to no avail. Finally we have reached a breaking point, and the season promises to slow down, thin out, allow me to slowly return to afternoons of running on the treadmill and evenings of cooking and blogging.

We’re planning a road trip, Cor and I, by the way. I posted about it on Garlic, My Soul, but for those of you who don’t read both, now you know. We’re driving the Southern route, starting the day before Easter, meandering through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisana, Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, and Georgia. Which, is to say, six states I’ve never been to. Seven states in all, nine days, friends and family to see, memories to make, pictures to capture, a final “hoorah!” before Garlic, My Soul goes bi-coastal.

I have this weird cold. It feels like mono, but as I know what mono feels like, it surely cannot. I’ve been getting copious amounts of sleep, lazing about, and drinking a lot of water. I also spent the better part of the weekend cleaning my house for KB’s arrival (and because, let’s be honest, the bathroom always needs a good scrub.)

Yesterday, as I was repotting my rosemary and aloe, Cor stopped by to split up the CSA veggies. She’d had a doctor’s appointment in the area. I’d forgotten that she was coming (weird cold, I’m telling you.)

She chatted with me as I scrubbed the toilet, and gladly accepted a cup of coffee. Then she went to the kitchen to check out the CSA situation. “WHERE did you get the artichokes?” she yelled.

“Oh yeah! The CSA!” I yelled back, from under the toilet.

“I’m going to make them right now.” Water running, dutch oven out. I vacuum the house. She cooks. Mid-90s music blasts in the background. “Hey, Jen, Jeff’s on his way…Jeff’s in the closet. On the phone.” Laughter ensues, artichokes still boiling, vacuum still sucking, giggles emitting throughout the house.

I turn the vacuum off, Cor pulling the artichokes out of the water, whipping up a butter sauce. We spend the next 30 minutes devouring the three artichokes, along with cheese and crackers. Jeff moves from the closet to the bedroom.

Artichokes gone, Jeff off the phone, we clean up. Corelyn goes. The recycling goes out. I shower. Kelly calls, because SHE’S HERE. What a good Saturday…

This week? More Kelly. Carne asada, cookies (chewy, thanks Alton Brown), Glee, game plan for cleaning the office up (we’re moving soon), starting the book club book, blogging, St. Patrick’s Day, a night of dancing, general mayhem. Josh Kelley, dream your fears away, Maroon 5, throw back to 2005, and smelling spring, missing you.