My favorite cookbooks . . .

Those who know me, know how much I love to cook. If I could make a living cooking, I would.

 It started when I was 13 and my Mommy started school to become an LPN. My Dad worked the 3-11 p.m. shift and the big meal of the day in our family was lunch. The summer before I started eighth grade, my Mom taught me to cook – even though she wasn’t in the kitchen at the time.

She started easy. She’d put together my Dad’s favorite dishes – and would slowly do less and less prep each time so over the weeks I’d get to where I cooked  the entire dish.  I learned to make fried chicken, salmon patties, pork chops with milk gravy – and the accompanying potatoes, butter beans, tomatoes and corn (because if my Dad didn’t have potatoes with a meal, it wasn’t a real meal).

Then I’d put the leftovers into a wide-mouth Thermos and that was Daddy’s dinner at the coal mine. It made me feel like I was doing my part to keep our household going while my Mom went to school.

When I started at Western Kentucky University, I started creating my own dishes.  Spaghetti sauce was one of my first tries – but I’d take bottled sauce and then add my own touches to it - spices, green peppers, meat – and over time, I gave up on the bottled sauce.  I learned to make chicken and dumplings, Swedish meatballs (which all the guys I hung out with at WKU loved – including Jimmy, Jamie and others), lasagna and more. My cooking still leaned towards Kentucky-style meals, but I started learning how to make my own creations.

When Larry and I married, one of the coolest gifts we received was a carbon steel wok from Bob and Murph  – it was the real thing (not electric, not non-stick), the real deal. I was terrified of trying it.  I found a cookbook – “Great Chinese Cooking: From Fire Pot to Food Processor” at the local bookstore and tentatively started trying.

My first attempt at Chinese cooking – seriously – was Stir-Fried Celery. Yup, sounds scary, huh – but it actually was pretty good. Over time, I started becoming pretty solid on the Chinese-cooking technique, and started coming up with my own combinations of meats, vegetables and the accompanying sauce. As you can see of the photo of the cookbook, I literally loved the cookbook to death – fried rice, egg drop soup, beef with broccoli, chicken and vegetables and egg rolls.

That experience gave me the confidence that I could learn to cook anything – because for me and most people - cooking Chinese is among the scariest.

So over time, I’ve devoured – and loved - a lot of cookbooks. If you’re interested in what I consider my favorite – and most-loved cookbooks, here they are:

·         The aforementioned “Great Chinese Cooking: From Fire Pot to Food Processor.” This cookbook, which is no longer in print, literally taught me who to cook what I consider the “hardest-to-learn cuisine.” These days, I make a killer Cashew Chicken and Shrimp, a spicy Beef and Vegetables, and Pork Fried Rice (I gave up on egg rolls – WAY too much effort).

·         Emeril’s “Louisiana Real and Rustic.” True story:  Emeril opened his first restaurant (named Emeril's) in New Orleans in 1990. In December 1991, we had a tasting menu there with our friends Mark and Robyn Sieron. This was before Emeril was anybody – literally, few people outside of New Orleans knew who he was. Of all his cookbooks – and I’ve had several (most of which didn’t make the move to NYC) – my favorite is “Real and Rustic.” It’s real Emeril – homemade cocktail sauce, the best recipe ever for boiled shrimp. You get the idea. It’s the real stuff. Not complicated. Not fru-fru. Just delicious.

·         Lynne Rosetto Kaplan’s Italian cookbooks are the best – “The Splendid Table” and “The Italian Country Table” may be my favorite cookbooks. Again, like Emeril’s “Real and Rustic,” these cookbooks are about real cooking – how to make the best sauces, how to use seasonal ingredients, how to cook the best from Northern Italy. If you have to buy just one, go with “The Italian Country Table;” it has wonderful tips, stories and history, but they are both terrific!

·         And finally, one of my new favorites: Dorie Greenspan’s “Around My French Table.”  A fabulous cookbook – a wonderful “Roast Chicken for Les Paresseux” – translated as “Roast Chicken for Lazy People,” “Gougeres,” and more.

Some of my favorites – share yours. I’m always looking for new cookbooks!!

A cool relief on a hot summer day: fresh tomato soup

One of my favorite recipes when the heat of July bears down (like it is today on the Fourth of July) is Chilled Fresh Tomato Soup. It is light, refreshing and can be made from ingredients you almost always have in your pantry and fridge. You can garnish it with a dollop of sour cream. Or some shredded cheddar and green onions. You can easily adjust the spices in the recipe if you like your soup with a little more kick. Here's to a refreshing Fourth of July for you and yours!

Chilled Fresh Tomato Soup

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 red bell pepper, coarsely chopped
1 jalapeno chili, chopped (or 2 tablespoons pickled jalapeno, chopped)
1 1/2 pounds tomatoes, seeded, chopped
2 tablespoons lime juice (can also use lemon juice)
1 tablespoon prepared horseradish (more if you like more kick)
6 green onions, chopped (can also use 1/4 cup of chopped onion)
2 garlic cloves, chopped
4 cups tomato juice (can also substitute V-8 juice)

Heat oil in a heavy large saucepan over low heat. Add onions, peppers, garlic and jalapenos. Cover, cook until veggies are tender, stirring often, about 20 minutes. Add tomatoes, tomato juice, lime juice and horseradish. Increase heat to medium high, boil uncovered until flavors blend, stirring often, about 10 minutes. Cool slightly. Working in batches puree soup in blender until smooth. Chill at least four hours.

To serve, mix 1/4 of sour cream with a little half and half to thin. Serve soup with a drizzle of the sour cream on top. Or garnish with shredded cheddar, a few chopped green onions and a dollop of sour cream.

The House That Built Me . . .

I know they say you can't go home again
I just had to come back one last time
Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam.
But these hand prints on the front steps are mine.
And up those stairs, in that little back bedroom
is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.
And I bet you didn't know under that live oak
my favorite dog is buried in the yard.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself
if I could just come in I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

Mama cut out pictures of houses for years.
From 'Better Homes and Garden' magazines.
Plans were drawn, concrete poured,
and nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mama's dream.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.

Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.

If I could just come in I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can.
I got lost in this whole world and forgot who I am.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could walk around I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

The moment I knew one day we'd live in NYC

I’ve told parts of this story before – but here (as Paul Harvey would say) is the rest of the story.  

When Larry took me to New York City for the first time in 1981 to see the Yankees play the Dodgers in the World Series, I fell in love with the city – the beautiful, the gritty and the hopeful. For a girl who had grown up in small town Kentucky and thought her move to Gainesville, Fla., was a huge accomplishment, the last thing I expected was to fall head over heels for the second largest city in the world.

1981 was not one of the city’s best years. The days between January 1^st and December 31^st were filled with news reports of mob violence spilling out into the street, rape, robbery and other seeds of crime that had the city’s citizens fearing what their city was becoming. There were more than 120,000 robberies reported in the city that year - the most of any year in its history.  There were over 2,100 murders and the city was still reeling from the killing of John Lennon a year earlier. By comparison, there were 648 murders in 2013.

We flew in late on a cold Monday night and were picked up by Larry’s Dad. It was my first time meeting my new father-in-law and I was scared he wouldn’t like or accept his Kentucky-born daughter-in-law (we ended up really connecting and have been very close over the years).  He took us to Larry’s Aunt Dot’s apartment for the night, and Larry and I grabbed a few hours of sleep before starting our two-day exploration of New York City. 

We spent the first day with Larry’s Grandma Catherine – strong and vibrant at 81-years-old. She took us to her favorite Chinese restaurant in the Bronx for lunch and showed us around the area. She had worked her entire life – and even though she was retired and living in a Catholic retirement home – she left her apartment every morning, walking the city until late afternoon – the exact 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. timeframe she’d worked for years. She’d explore the Bronx, Manhattan and other parts of the city – anywhere her feet took her. She was remarkable.

That night we took in the first game of the World Series at Yankees Stadium – a 5-3 win over the Dodgers – alongside Larry’s Dad and our friend Chuck Cooperstein.  Pregame saw people parachuting onto the field; Pearl Bailey sang the national anthem. The Yankees players included such luminaries as Willie Randolph, Reggie Jackson, Tommy John, Lou Pinella, Graig Nettles and Ron Guidry. 

The following morning we headed into Manhattan – grabbing a hot dog on a street corner and exploring city streets, ending up at Battery Park where Larry convinced a bum to pose for a picture.  Larry and I took turns taking pictures of each other with the World Trade Center in the background.  Mid-afternoon we headed back to the Bronx, packed our bags and left them with Larry’s Dad before heading to the subway to get to Yankees Stadium for Game 2.

Chuck was joining us again that night, but Larry’s Dad had decided he wasn’t going to join us, so we had an extra ticket. While heading north on the subway, we started talking with an older black man who was heading to the Stadium in hopes of securing a scalped ticket. When Larry offered him our extra ticket at face-value, the gentleman was stunned, somewhat afraid that the ticket was a fraud. We assured him it was real – and even though he kept telling Larry how much we could make scalping the ticket – he bought it and joined us in our seats, nine rows behind home plate (yes, nine rows. Thank you, Ray Graves). 

That night the Yankees won again – this time a 3-0 win for pitcher Tommy John that included an amazing down-the-line catch by third baseman Graig Nettles. Goose Gossage (who might be one of the ugliest players in major league history) got the save. Note:  The Yankees went on to lose the next four games – three in LA, one in NYC – but hey, we saw the two wins.

We left the game – exhausted, yet thrilled with our visit – and headed to meet Larry’s Dad to grab our luggage and drive to Laguardia. We left New York around 2 a.m. that night, flew to Jacksonville and drove to Gainesville in time to go to work that Thursday morning.

That was my first introduction to this amazing city – and was the first of dozens of visits that took place over the last 35 years.  Who would have thought that that visit would set us on course to where we are today?

Tom Wolfe may best describe my relationship to New York City: “One belongs to New York instantly; one belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years.” 

The history of our apartment building

Several people have asked about the history of our apartment building. Our building is a pre-war building, a term generally applied to apartment buildings built in New York City before World War II. These buildings typically have high ceilings, thick walls (we can attest to the thick walls – haven’t heard a peep from any neighbor since moving in) and plaster ornamentation. Here’s a bit of the history of our building . . .

Between the mid-1880s and the turn of the century, most of the housing being built in New York City was single family row houses and town houses in a variety of styles and materials.  Around the turn of the century, apartment living began gaining respectability among the middle and upper classes and developers began building small multiple dwellings in the West End-Collegiate Historic District Extension (an area located west of Broadway between West 70th and 79th Streets).  These smaller dwellings were often referred to as “French flats.”

With the advent of the smaller, more practical electric elevator in the early 1900s, developers began constructing larger, multiple dwelling buildings ranging in height from six to nine stories. In addition, the opening of the IRT subway in 1904 (today’s 1, 2 and 3 subway lines) made the Upper West Side more accessible and appealing to the city’s expanding population.

Rules established by the Tenement House Act in 1901 determined the form, massing, and maximum height of new residential buildings. These regulations contributed to the height of apartment buildings, including ours, that were designed during the 1910s and 1920s by many of the city’s most prominent residential architects including Schwartz & Gross, Gaetan Ajello, Rosario Candela, Emery Roth and George F. Pelham.

Our building – 228 West 71^st Street – was designed and constructed in 1916-1917 by Emery Roth, one of the city’s leading builders of pre-war buildings. The 14-story (plus penthouse) apartment hotel was named the Hotel Robert Fulton, in honor of the inventor of the first commercially successful steamboat to provide ferry service up the Hudson River from New York City to Albany in 1807. The building’s Colonial Revival style features red brick, limestone, terra cotta and granite.

Advertisements for the hotel, beginning shortly after its c. 1917 opening, touted one- to three-room suites (either furnished or unfurnished), “complete hotel service,” an “excellent restaurant,” and emphasized its views overlooking the Hudson River. By 1955, kitchenettes were added to the advertisements after the laws were changed to allow them in apartment hotels. The interior of the hotel was noted for its tasteful design in a 1917 issue of “Architecture and Building Magazine” in an article that included images of the lobby, a typical living room, and the hotel dining room. 

When we started looking for our new apartment, we hoped to find a pre-war building that would work for us. We love the original wood floors, thick walls and old-New York feel these buildings offer – plus it’s wonderful to be able to discover the history of these dwellings. The location of our building in the heart of the Upper West Side – just blocks from Riverside and Central Parks, Lincoln Center and the Hudson River – makes it ideal for us. We’re very happy with our apartment and the neighborhood so far!

Lighter than air: pumpkin mousse with toffee/nut crumbles

Pumpkin pie isn't one of our family's favorites, but we do love pumpkin bread.  While great to snack on or toast for breakfast (more on that in a future post), pumpkin bread isn't special enough to serve as a dessert for holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas.

A few years ago, while looking for a special holiday dessert that used pumpkin, I combined a couple of different recipes and created this wonderfully light dessert. It's become a family favorite.

Pumpkin Mousse with Toffee/Nut Crumbles

Pumpkin Mousse
2 cups of heavy whipping cream
3/4 cup sugar
5 egg yolks
1 1/4 cups canned pumpkin puree
1 tablespoon dark rum
1 1/4 teaspoon vanilla
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice

Crumbles
1 cup nuts (can use pecans or walnuts - I usually use walnuts), broken into small pieces
2/3 cup toffee bits (you can find these in the same place you buy chocolate chips - I usually get Heath brand)
4 teaspoons light brown sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon, unsalted butter, melted

Directions
To make the crumbles: preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Line small baking sheet with foil and brush with vegetable oil. Toss the nuts, toffee bits, brown sugar and salt in a bowl.  Place the mixture in a single layer on baking sheet. Bake about 12 minutes - make sure the toffee bits are soft, but still retain their shape. Remove from oven and cool completely. Break into small pieces.

To make the mousse:  In a medium saucepan, whisk 3/4 cups of the whipping cream, sugar and the egg yolks until sugar melts. Stir over medium-low heat until thickened to the consistency of pudding - usually takes me about 10-15 minutes.  Put the mixture in a large bowl,  add the pumpkin, rum, vanilla and spices and refrigerate for about an hour.

While waiting for the pumpkin mixture to cool, beat the remaining 1 1/4 cups of whipping cream in a mixer until the cream holds soft peaks. Remove about 1/2 cup of the whipped cream into a medium bowl and store until serving.  Take the remaining whipping cream and gently fold into the pumpkin mixture. Refrigerate at least 6 hours (but it'll last up to a day or so).

Assembly:  I take beautiful water goblets (as you can see from the photo) - and layer the mousse, crumbles and whipping cream. It makes a beautiful presentation - but while light, the dessert is pretty rich.  It makes about 6 servings - although you can make smaller servings and stretch it to 8 servings.

A personal post on surviving breast cancer

As someone on the upper end age-wise of those active on social media and who faced breast cancer two years ago, it’s interesting to me how people with serious diseases handle their illnesses in widely divergent ways online. Some literally give play-by-play of their illnesses on Facebook or through a blog, putting forth very personal details, specifics of their good days and bad, and highlighting the help of friends and family. Others – like me – choose to keep their plights private, sharing the details through personal messages to family and friends, but otherwise not posting anything online. It was more than a year before I shared anything about my diagnosis and treatment online.

Take it from me – the internet and social media are scary places for those battling serious illnesses. Social media has changed the way we comprehend and respond to the news - some feel pressured to share the details online. Information that in the past would seldom be discussed publicly is front and center on many people’s social footprint. At the first hint of something serious, we “Google” and read everything we can find – from serious medical sites to Yelp ratings of doctors, hospitals and more. We read about the pros and cons of treatments, medicines and tests – pouring over posts from people that we’ll never meet and who as far as we know have no serious credibility - but we read their words anyway in hopes they will share insights that  matter.

I am two years out after being diagnosed with Stage 1A breast cancer in late summer 2013. As Larry said after we finished treatments later that fall, “After the initial devastating news of the diagnosis, everything else was good news,” i.e., it’s wonderful to hear: “that’s the results we were hoping to see” after we went through the surgeries, sophisticated genetic tests and radiation.

I was fortunate to have an amazing team of doctors in Gainesville - from Arlene Weinshelbaum who just had a feeling there was something destructive there even after an initial biopsy was inconclusive and who kept pushing to get a final determination; from Tina Lam, whose delicate touch as a surgeon left very little evidence of the necessary incisions; from radiation oncologist Cherylle Hayes who suggested accelerated partial breast irradiation – which meant delivering radiation internally directly to the spot of the cancer twice a day for five days instead of the typical six weeks of radiation; and to Laura Dickerson, the medical oncologist who has followed me since the initial treatments ended.

I urge our friends and family to make certain your loved ones monitor their breast health, donate to research when you can, and understand that everyone processes their diagnoses differently. So as October’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month winds down, say a little prayer for those you know who have been affected by breast cancer and be thankful that improved diagnosis and treatment means that more and more women are surviving and thriving.