I was recently at a potluck and learned an important lesson about myself. I shouldn’t be allowed to stand next to the salsa verde. At least, not if anyone else wants to have any. Not only did I eat more than my fair share on whatever bread was around, I also had a bit more on the sausage, the veggies or anything else I could get my hands on. I might have picked up the dish and licked it clean. Except that I’m pretty sure that would have been a serious party foul.

The good news is that my garden is full of good stuff for salsa verde right now. I have a mini forest of scallions and herbs, so I was quick to make the Bobby Flay scallion vinaigrette recipe in the August Food & Wine. Green onions, cilantro and jalepeño with a healthy splash of sherry vinegar and dribble of honey. Sounds delicious, doesn’t it? It is. Hot, sour, salty, sweet. It’s great on fresh veggies, baguette, grilled chicken, my fingers.

It’s also easily adaptable. Yesterday, I made a variation with the addition of fresh shiso, padrons and agave instead of the honey. Yum.

Scallion Salsa Verde
adapted from Bobby Flay’s Scallion Vinaigrette in Food & Wine August 2010

6 scallions, pale and dark green parts only, coarsely chopped
1 or 2 peppers
3 tablespoons sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon agave nectar
3 tablespoons chopped cilantro
2 or 3 shiso leaves, chopped
3 tablespoon olive oil
Salt & pepper to taste

Place all the ingredients except the oil in a blender, and pulse until well blended but a little chunky. Stream in the oil while blending, and season to taste.

Makes about 1 cup

Swirl ribbons of fresh, fat spears of asparagus, an unusually colored carrot and lightly pickled rhubarb together with a touch of minced shallot, a pinch of thyme leaves, a sprinkle of sea salt and a splash of fruity olive oil and sherry vinegar. Add a bit of fresh from the farmers’ market soft chevre, if you like. And there you have it. Spring on a plate. Nothing else really needs to be said, does it?

My first taste of raclette was in the small town of Chamonix that lies in the shadow of Mont Blanc. Cameron and I were there for our honeymoon where we spent plenty of full days skiing. And by a full day of skiing, I mean ski a run or two and then head to one of the amazing little restaurants tucked into the mountain where we’d fill ourselves with hearty ham and vegetable soups and cassolet, fresh breads and cheeses, and of course un petit pichet de vin and then slowly roll our way down the hill back to our hotel. A nap usually followed, and by then, we’d have at least a tiny space in our bellies ready for dinner. Just enough, say, for a shared raclette for dinner. Yes. That’s right. We ate cheese for dinner. And it was fantastic.

Raclette is the perfect melting cheese. Traditionally, it is heated in big rounds by the fire and then scraped off in little avalanches onto your plate. Modern raclette is usually served, like fondue, with some sort of portal stove or grill to keep the raclette softened. Unlike some cheeses that break when heated yielding a greasy mess, raclette just gets more and more velvety. So velvety, you just want to take a fingerful and lick it off (but don’t! Hot!). Instead, do as they do in Savoy, and dip in boiled fingerlings followed by a bright, sour cornichon. Or you can get a little crazy and dip in some sausage or thinly sliced serrano ham. A little cheese, a little wine, a little charcuterie and potatoes makes for a stellar evening. And tighter fitting ski pants.

I haven’t had raclette since that trip, which was almost 7 years ago now, mostly for a silly reason. It never occurred to me how easy it would be to find raclette closer to home. Not until I got mail one day from the Wisconsin Cheese Board asking if I’d be interested in creating a mac & cheese recipe for an upcoming blogging event that they are having. I usually ignore PR requests like this, but hey, who can say no to mac & cheese*? The only requirement for the recipe is that it feature a cheese that is made in Wisconsin… ie, pretty much any cheese. There were over 30 cheeses to choose from, but it was the raclette that caught my eye.

Just think about this for a moment: al dente pasta in a creamy bechamel sauce, topped with paper thin slices of potato and plenty of silky and slightly caramelized raclette and a little gherkin relish sprinkled on for good measure. I promise you, it’s worth loosening your belt for.

For other Mac & Cheese recipes, checkout the 30 ways in 30 days site.

*For this recipe, I am receiving a small stipend, just like I do when I write for magazines. On this blog, I don’t do pay-for-post advertising.

Raclette Mac & Cheese

Makes 4 servings (300 calories per serving)

This recipe may sound a little fancy, but it’s actually quite easy to prepare and most of it can be done in advance, so it makes for a great addition to a dinner party. I cooked mine as individual servings in these Staub mini cocottes, but 1 cup ramekins work fine too, or you can make it in a single larger casserole dish. The mini’s give you more caramelization on the edges.

As an optional variation, try sticking a paper thin slice of Serrano ham under the potatoes. Yum.

3 new potatoes, sliced 1/8″ thick
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 cup whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
Salt and pepper
A pinch of nutmeg
6 ounces uncooked penne (or pasta of your choice), cooked al dente
4 slices Wisconsin Raclette Cheese, cut to 2″x2″x1/4″
1/2 cup cornichon, coarsely chopped

Directions:
Soak the sliced potatoes in salted water for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Drain the potato slices and plunge them into the boiling water for about 1 minute. Rinse the slices in cold water and lightly dry. Place the potato slices in a bowl and lightly coat with the olive oil. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 400°F. To make the béchamel, warm the milk and cream over low heat in a small pan. In another pan, melt the butter over medium-low heat and add the flour and stir until smooth and thick, just until it starts to take on a little color. Add the milk & cream gradually, about 1/4 at a time, stirring between each addition until smooth. The mixture should be velvety and slightly thick. Add salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste.

Place the cooked penne pasta in a mixing bowl and add 3/4 of the béchamel sauce; stir to coat.

Fill each cocotte or ramekin with 3/4 cup of the béchamel coated pasta, and press down with the back of the spoon. Top with a heaping spoonful of the remaining béchamel. Arrange the potato slices on the top of each cocotte, overlapping each slightly.

Bake for 10 minutes or until the potatoes lightly brown on the edges. Place a slice of Raclette on the top of each cocotte and return to the oven for another 10 minutes or until the Raclette is melty and lightly browned. Serve each cocotte, hot, with the cornichon relish on the side.

*300 calories per serving

We aren’t really a Thanksgiving holiday tradition family. We never did much around it in my house growing up other than maybe having turkey cutlets for dinner (more likely, we’d just have chicken). Cameron is Canadian, so he skips celebrating his harvest festival much earlier than I do in the Seattle.

Actually, this is not exactly true. We do have a very set Thanksgiving holiday tradition, but it has nothing to do with turkeys or cranberries or pumpkin pie (although, I do love a good pumpkin pie).

No, our tradition has to do with skiing. (Almost) Every year for the past 12 years, we’ve headed up to Whistler, BC for the week and enjoyed a couple of days on early snow followed by apres nachos and beers. Dinner on Thanksgiving day will most likely be sushi.

The fact is, I’m so far removed from thinking about food and Thanksgiving, that this post was going to be about a couple of cookbooks that I’ve been enjoying and this amazing breakfast pizza that I’m in love with. But then, it dawned on me that maybe I should step back for a moment, and do something a bit more fitting for the season. Because, in reality, I really like all the foods that we celebrate at this time of year and I also think it’s a great idea to take the time to recognize those things that I am thankful for. So, this morning, I switched gears and made these harvest muffins which reminded me of a couple of things that I am particularly thankful for.

First, is my work. Every shoot I’m on, I find myself thinking how lucky I am to have the privilege of doing something that I love to pay the bills. It let’s me do things like edit and shoot the updated version of the The Best Places Northwest Cookbook where I found this terrific little muffin recipe that is packed with cranberries, raisins, oats and carrot and sweetened with a hint of molasses. The perfect thing for the 5 hour drive, or to munch on the way to the lifts. (The peanut butter pie recipe has also come in handy on more than one occasion).

And that carrot? It was plucked from my garden just moments before being grated and swirled into the batter. I’m so grateful to have a place to grow things and the amazing help of Amy to help keep it all growing. Maybe one day my thumbs will turn green and I’ll be able to keep it growing myself (I think they just might with all the kale that is out there now), but in the meantime, Amy & I have a blast playing with new things to grow and seeing what happens.

Mostly though, I’m incredibly thankful for the people in my life… of course, my family and friends, but also all of you readers! This blog would be a pretty boring little place without you, and I still get a happy little thrill whenever I get a new comment… even after 4 years! Thank you so much for your thoughts, encouragement and kindness.

I hope you all have a lovely week, wherever you are and however you choose to spend it. Now, the snow is calling me!

Harvest Muffins

This recipe comes from the Best Places Northwest Cookbook, but originated at The White Swan Guest House in Mount Vernon, Washington. I love the combination of the cranberries and molasses which are add nice sweet-tartness, especially when served with fresh, cultured butter or a smear of maple-sweetened cream cheese. The gingerbread crepe recipe on the next page of the book, is a real winner too!

2 cups flour
1/2 cup rolled oats
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup milk
1 cup grated carrot
1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup cranberries, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup vegetable or nut oil
1 egg
2 tablespoons molasses

Preheat the oven to 400F. Lightly grease a muffin tin, or fill with papers or parchment (like this).

Combine the flour, oats, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, ginger and salt in a large bowl. In another bowl, stir together the remaining ingredients. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients, stirring gently until the batter is still lumpy but basically wet throughout. Spoon the batter into the muffin tin and bake for 15 to 18 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean.

Makes 12 to 15 muffins.

The past few weeks, I’ve been battling the gravity of my couch. It’s amazing how quickly things can go from a million miles an hour to a full, dead stop. Most days, I don’t even see the lower level of my house until after dinner. But a little illness and a little mom/teen daughter drama, and suddenly, my couch became attached to my butt.

The good news is that the last of the antibiotics are now gone, and mother and daughter drama passes. But, the gravity of the couch and getting back to my normal activity level, that has taken a bit more effort.

I got kind of used to watching three episodes of Bones everyday, curled up with my laptop, polishing up my manuscript (due Sunday!), catching up on everyone’s blogs, and trying to keep up with Twitter (impossible, even when couch bound). A few recent jobs have helped me gain breakaway speed, including a great trip to Vancouver to shoot at 5 different bars (more on that when the article hits the shelves).

This week, I made it back into the kitchen and started to feel that old rhythm kicking in again. First, a few remaining doughnut tests (Red Velvet Cake, Brandy Eggnog, and playing around with Chia flour for a gluten free variation). And then, yesterday, roasted parsnips.

The first time I remember having a parsnip was at some fancy-schmancy restaurant that served probably the best monkfish I’ve ever had. (This was long ago, in the days before fish-lists or much awareness of what was happening in our waters.) Tucked underneath the fish was this beautifully creamed, what I thought was, potato. In fact it was creamed parsnip, and I nearly spit it across the table. I was not in anyway prepared for that earthy sweetness, and thought it was the most horrible thing I had ever had. Perhaps it was just the misplaced expectation or perhaps it wasn’t well prepared (I seem to recall, it was kind of grainy). But I swore off parsnips then and there.

What a huge mistake. Somewhere along the way, a parsnip sneaked its way onto my plate at a friend’s house and it was a revelation. This wasn’t some mealy, sickly sweet babyfood. It was caramel and banana and potato wrapped into one; crisp on the outside, melty on the inside goodness. Now, I can never seem to get enough of them. Yesterday, I roasted up 6 or 7 good sized roots sprinkled with a little vanilla bean salt and a splatter of olive oil, and gobbled them all down for lunch. Today, I’m tempted to do the same.

(PS: Thanks to Stephanie over at Wasabimon for the spotlight! )

Vanilla Roasted Parsnips

I roasted my parsnips whole, which gives a greater ratio of soft to crisp. If you prefer your parsnips caramelized on all sides, you can half or quarter them before roasting.

Preheat oven to 400F.

Line a baking sheet with foil, and place whole, peeled parsnips on top. Splash with a good olive oil, and sprinkle with vanilla salt and a bit of cracked pepper. Cover with more foil, and roast for about 20 minutes. Turn the parsnips over (they should be golden on the bottom by this point). Recover and roast another 15 minutes.

Remove from the oven, and cut off the tops and tails. Slice in half (or quarters if they are particularly large) lengthwise. Drizzle on a bit more olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste.