diy pickled shallots

top image by Sarah

A little more about that pickling session. Sarah and I lead the group in making pickled shallots, with a buffet of Choose-Your-Own-Adventure-Pickle-Spices: juniper berries, bay leaves, star anise, mustard seeds, peppercorns, on and on.

We call this a “Kitchen Sink Pickle” because you can throw in whatever vegetables you want. You could also add honey or sugar with you prefer your pickle with a punch of sweetness. This is a quick pickle, meaning you can make it before you start other dinner prep and it will be ready when you put everything on the table. It's enough time for the vinegar to take the raw hotness off the shallot.

We served this with duck confit and – this is the awesome thing about pickles – the addition cuts right through heavy, fatty dishes and brightens up the whole thing. I am a pickle convert. So I give you our recipe, as well as some ideas for different ways to dress up the final jars.

1 cup cider vinegar

1/2 cup water (plus more, if needed)

2 teaspoons kosher salt

2-3 teaspoons of your preferred pickling spices

2-3 shallots, sliced thin

1. Combine cider vinegar with water, salt and spices in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil.

2. Place shallots in a clean, dry glass jar just large enough to fit. Pour the brine over to cover completely. If there’s extra room at the top, add cold water to cover.

3. Cover with lid and refrigerate at least 30 minutes. The pickles will keep for about 10 days.

super duper fun thing

photo by Sarah

You remember my friend Sarah, the foodie and photographer? Well, thanks to the wonderful team at the Altitude Design Summit, the two of us are hosting a dinner on Alt Eve (that’s my new name for the night before the conference kicks off). I'm so flattered to have been asked. We decided to incorporate both our strengths and turn it into a hands-on evening of cooking, crafts and cocktails.

I’m in Seattle now, so we're going to get up to a lot of experimenting on this rainy weekend. The event sold out as soon as it was announced because it’s limited to a small group. But if you’re going to Alt and want to join, keep checking the Dinner With section of the registration, because people can switch events, so some spots might open up.       

Are you going to Alt this year? I really think you should.

summerfood: beach plums

With the end of summer nearing, it feels appropriate that the last Lazy Summer post is Sarah’s Cape Cod quest to find a fleeting summertime offering: the elusive beach plum. xoKelly

While Cape Codders might be totally forthcoming about where to get the best lobster roll, they seem to take the complete opposite approach when it comes to beach plums. When I announced that I wanted to go on a hunt for these small, wild plums that many locals create delicious jams and jellies from, my mother-in-law called a neighbor who has knowledge of where the plum shrubs grow. But she was afraid that if she mentioned the words “beach plums’” in her message, her neighbor wouldn’t call back for fear of being pressured into sharing her local knowledge.
 
Beach plum shrubs are found on the sandy dunes of the Atlantic Coast from Maine to Maryland. But they’re near impossible to domesticate. Sure, you could plunk a young shrub in your yard and it might get tall and leafy, but you may never see one single, solitary plum. So if you’re a local and know where to find the wild, ripe fruit – you apparently keep it close to your chest.  
 
We weren’t deterred by the plum-hoarding, so we set out to find our own secret stash. I could swear I saw some little old ladies moving signposts around in an attempt to confuse us. And it worked. We found nothing but gorgeous landscapes, fields of Queen Anne’s lace, and a small market on the way home that sold jars of plum jelly, all ready to be spread on toast.  
 
We''ll call this one even, Cape Cod. -Sarah

sarah's roast cherry tomatoes

Sarah is sparking some big New Jersey pride here, with her romps around her home state and talk of the Shore. She’s keeping it up with these roasted tomatoes that she made for her mom. -Kelly

As we kick around the east coast, I have been yanking the steering wheel over to hit every farm stand in our path. Clearly a sucker for distressed, wooden signs of oversized produce.

We just made it down to NJ to visit the old homestead and along the way, I veered off the path to grab my first fresh NJ tomato in four years. My mom said I was price gouged with what I paid, but I didn’t care. The little appetizer I made for everyone when we got home was well worth it.   
 
My mom used to roast tomatoes with breadcrumbs for us all the time and when I’m visiting home, the dishes I grew up with are what I crave. Among a million other things, my mom taught me that in the kitchen, it doesn’t need to be complicated to be sophisticated. I always loved this dish and it was all pleasure to make it for her tonight. -Sarah
 
12 large, ripe cherry tomatoes
¼ cup Italian breadcrumbs
1 tbs chopped fresh basil
2 tbs butter
kosher salt
fresh, black pepper
 
Preheat oven to 400.
 
Wash and half tomatoes and place cut side up on a sheet pan. Sprinkle liberally with breadcrumbs and basil and dot with butter. Add salt and pepper to taste (my mom just said to add parmesan cheese if you really want to get funky).
 
Roast in the oven until the tomatoes start to bubble slightly and the crumbs are golden brown, about 10 minutes.

summerdrink: sarah's aqua fresca

It’s hard to believe that most of the country is broiling in a massive heat wave when it’s 65 degrees and raining in Seattle. My mom, who is currently roasting in New Jersey, said it’s so hot she heard that even the animals at the Bronx Zoo are cranky. When the tri-state area along with most of the country is reaching temperatures that even the chimps can't tolerate, what else is there to do but take a load off (and probably most of your clothing), break out the blender, and cool down with an ice cold agua fresca.

Agua fresca is served all over Mexico and Central America, where it's cooled down nationals and tourists for years. It literally means, “water refreshment” and is simply pureed fruit, sweetened with a little sugar and strained of it’s pulp. What’s left is pure fruit juice and the perfect cure for the searing summer heat. I made this with a stalk of rhubarb from the backyard and a pint of strawberries, but you can (and should) experiment with whatever fruit you have on hand.

Stay cool, people!

2 cups strawberries, hulled and halved
1 cup rhubarb, cut in 1 inch pieces
1/4 cup sugar
1 1/2 c water
Juice of 1/2 a lime

Combine all ingredients in a blender or food processor and blend until completely smooth. Place a swatch of cheese cloth over a medium bowl and strain the puree of it’s pulp. Pour remaining juice into two glasses with ice and garnish strawberries or whatever fresh fruit you’ve got! 

summerfood: sausage party

Remember Sarah from last summer? My partner in all things summery and dreamy? She's back as the Lazy Summer food gal again this summer, so please make her feel welcome! Take it away, Sarah.

It felt like this season would never, ever arrive.  Most weeks are still dotted with rain here in the Pacific Northwest, but the calendar does not lie. It’s the first week of summer folks, and it’s time to get lazy. Since nothing gets all the summer senses going quite like the grill, we decided to spark it up and throw a sausage party. But don’t let the name fool you ladies, this ones for us too.

What’s great about sausages is that there are no patties to form, no marinating involved, nothing getting rubbed or sauced - just butcher paper packed with super-flavorful links. There are several top-notch butchers in town so I headed to a few to mix and match a selection of their house-made specialties.  Lamb and garlic, spanish chorizo, fresh smoked kielbasa, hot Italian with loads of fennel, Sierra Nevada brats and amazing artisan beef hot dogs. Served with a few varieties of grainy mustard, there is something for everyone.

We had some peppery, flowering Arugula in the garden (love those little cream colored, antique-y flowers) which I dressed simply with a little homemade vinegrette, echoing the mustard and spicy enough to hold up to those amazing flavors on the cutting board. 

On a warm summer night, that’s all I need. That and chilled rosé, of course. Which I plan to drink this summer by the bucket load. Flame on! xo, Sarah

summerfood: zucchini carpaccio

The first pick-able zucchini have arrived in our garden – finally! I try to hold out and pick them when they’re a tender 5 or 6 inches long. Any smaller and my husband calls me impatient. Any larger and I’m treading in my late grandfathers territory, who not only tended a huge vegetable garden in his yard each summer, but let his veggies grow to the most enormous sizes.

As little kids, my sister and I would come to his house for a visit. On the backstairs would be a collection of seriously gargantuan produce worthy of a state fair-worthy: baseball bat sized zucchini, beets the diameter of softballs, green beans as long as knitting needles and as fat as a roll of quarters.  I don’t remember my mom taking any of these specimens home with us, and I don’t actually remember eating any of his harvest either. He would just sit on the back stairs, a cold glass of White Rose iced tea in his hand, and revel in our thrill of seeing vegetables so gigantic. 

But today it’s all about micro greens, petit pois, baby carrots, new potatoes; everything young and tender. My guess is that it’s a generational thing. Maybe with my grandfather’s seven brothers and sisters, they needed each plant to feed as many mouths as possible. But in our house – where it’s just two adults, a new baby and a toddler who exists on complex carbs alone, we luckily can be more frivolous.

This is my absolute favorite way to prepare freshly picked, young zucchini. Don’t let the “carpaccio” part fool you: This is no lame, raw zucchini crudites. The salt and vinaigrette help tenderize the zucchini a bit, keeping it crisp and bright, yet tender all at once. Toasted pine nuts and shaved parm bring the richness to balance it all out. The only trick is getting your zucchini sliced to the right thickness. If you have a mandolin (my favorite kitchen gadget) a 1/8 inch setting works perfect here. A vegetable peeler and a light touch work totally fine in a pinch. -Sarah

Ingredients:

2 or 3 zucchini, no longer than 6 inches

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

2 tablespoons toasted pine nuts

Shaved parmigiano reggiano

Using a mandolin (or a vegetable peeler) slice zucchinis lengthwise into 1/8 of an inch slices. Place in a large mixing bowl and set aside.

Combine lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper in a small bowl and whisk to emulsify.  Take a taste and adjust the seasoning to your whim. Pour over zucchini slices and carefully toss to coat. Let sit for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, toss pine nuts in a small sautee pan and toast over medium heat until they are golden brown in spots, about 5-7 minutes. 

To serve, pile the zucchini onto a large platter and drizzle any juices that have collected at the bottom of the bowl over the top.  Scatter pine nuts and freshly shaved parm over the zucchini.  Feel free to give the dish one last hit of good quality sea salt and pepper at the end as well.

summer food: roasted strawberry creamsicles

It’s early in the growing season still and our garden is just starting to take shape, but a short trip north of Seattle in the Skagit Valley, farm stands are coming out of hibernation and strawberries are booming. I coerced my family to pull over for a few pints of these red gems on a recent road trip, and packed a few pints in the cooler next to my husband’s Busch Light (ah, the irony). So what’s one to do with perfectly ripe, still-a-little-dirt-on-them-fresh strawberries? Not much, that’s what.  Far be it for me to think I can improve on anything so flawless. I must leave that to my sweet, little daughter Beatrice and blame her acute popsicle addiction.

Beatrice has never met a frozen dessert she did not like. She is an equal opportunity ice cream eater, but popsicles are her vice of choice.  Fruit, fudge or whatever it is they put in a Foxypop, she will consume it with an extraordinary amount of toddler glee. So I figured I would do Bea a solid and make something special for my pop-eating-pal, while at the same time give her a break from the Driscoll’s “franken-berries” that I reluctantly resort to in the dreary winter months.

In order to make deliciously potent pops like these, I like to slow-roast the strawberries first. It takes a little time; just enough to draw out some moisture, but not turn them into fruit leather. This step really intensifies their flavor (so don’t skip it!) and as an added bonus for your efforts, the process gives off the most intoxicating aroma. A quick twirl in the food processor with some creamy ingredients, then a firm-up in the freezer, and folks, you have summer on a stick. -Sarah

 

Ingredients:

1 pound fresh strawberries

1 1/2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar

1/2 vanilla bean

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup heavy cream

1/2 cup whole milk

Preparation:

Preheat oven to 250.

In a medium bowl, toss the strawberries with sugar and balsamic vinegar until coated. Scrape the vanilla bean seeds from the pod and add to the strawberry mixture, tossing again until the vanilla seeds are evenly distributed. Turn berries into a shallow roasting pan and slow-roast for 2 hours. Remove from oven and allow to cool for 15 minutes.

In a food processor or blender, add roasted strawberries along with any juices at the bottom of the pan, cream and milk and process for about 45 seconds (the mixture will look like a fairly thick smoothie.) Pour into popsicle molds and freeze until pops are completely firm, about 3-4 hours. Makes about six 2-ounce pops.

meet the summer food editor: sarah flotard

Sarah and I met on our very first day of college, when we were randomly paired together as freshman roommates. The first meals we ever made together were on a hot pot in our eensy dorm room. After college, we traveled cross-country together in a wood-paneled station wagon, making dinners on our trusty propane grill, in campgrounds from the Black Hills to Bryce Canyon. After we settled in San Francisco, Sarah went on to develop cocktail recipes for Stirrings, and then work for the James Beard award-winning chef Tom Douglas in Seattle.

Sarah and I share the belief that everything tastes better when eaten outside. And the belief that owning a home with an outdoor shower is the true mark of success.

She makes everything more fun. And makes everything taste better.

summer food: mussels with sopressata

I have a love / hate relationship with camping. Love : pulling into our campsite for the first time and seeing the beautiful, woodsy, home-away-from-home that I spent hours researching on google. Hate: public bathrooms, random shower drain hairs and forgetting to pack my flip flops. Love: sitting around the campfire at night, post-s’mores, thinking about hoping into our tent with the cushy air mattress and down comforter from our bed. Hate: realizing the moisture in the damp air soaked our comforter and my husband let in a billion mosquitoes, turning our tiny tent into a Mississippi-like biosphere.

Oh, the list goes on and on, but the one part about camping that I can’t find an ounce to complain about is the food.  Nothing is better than campsite cooking. And I don’t mean just a box of mac ’n cheese under the stars or instant pancakes at the crack of dawn. I mean making something special, something that you’ve put a little thought into and planned a bit in advance. Making something that the overly aggressive campground squirrels have never seen the likes of before, right out there in the middle of the woods.  

For our inaugural (and most likely only) camping trip of the summer, we headed to Whidbey Island, WA, home of some of the most breathtaking views of the Olympic Mountains and the Penn Cove mussel.  You can find these particularly delicious bivalves on restaurant menus all over the country these days, but since we were camping along the waters where they are raised and harvested, grabbing a few pounds at the local market for a cocktail-hour appetizer was a total must.

This mussel dish is so incredibly flavorful.  And there is little more to it than roughly chopping (a “campsite dice” I like to call it) a few items, tossing all the ingredients in a pot and letting ‘em rip over the hot coals until the mussels have opened.  Scrubbing the mussels and removing their beards takes the most time.  But sitting in a lawn chair by the water spigot overlooking the Strait of Juan deFuca, a glass of chilly vinho verde by my side, somehow makes the hard work, and camping, so very, very delightful. -Sarah

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon butter

4 oz sopressata, chopped to about a 1/2 inch dice

4 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped

1 tablespoon fennel seeds

1 teaspoon red pepper flakes

2 pounds Penn Cove mussels, cleaned and beards removed

1 cup dry white wine

1 small lemon, sliced in 1/4 inch rounds

Preparation:

Preheat a stock pot over prepared coals, about 5 minutes.  Add olive oil and butter.  Once the butter’s foam subsides, add sopressata and saute until browned and crispy around the edges, about 7-10 minutes. Add garlic, fennel, and red pepper and saute until very fragrant, about 3-5 minutes. Add mussels, wine and lemon.  Give a good stir, cover and cook until mussels open, about 5 minutes, depending on your fire. Uncover the pot and discard any mussels that don’t open. Divide mussels evenly among 4 bowls and spoon broth over them, or just pop the pot right on the table and have at it. Serve with a crusty baguette for broth mopping and nice, crisp, summery white.