The Portland Press Herald ran a story over the weekend that featured various Jewish families getting ready for the Passover holiday. Reading about all of the cleaning, and cooking, and removing of chametz, I found myself wondering when they were going to get to the point of Passover-- the food! There's a brief mention at the end of the article of gefilte fish, never my favorite traditional food (in a word: blech), but so much was left out. I'd wager that for most American Jews, like those in my family, Passover doesn't actually include any wall-washing or sink-bleaching, or even abstaining from leavened bread. What it does include is a celebration of friends, family, and freedom.

But most importantly, it's a celebration of food.

When else do we have the opportunity or reason to prepare those recipes our grandmothers and great-grandmothers brought over from whatever 'old country' they called home? When I was a child my family spent every Passover on Long Island with my paternal grandparents. Under normal circumstances the fare at "Nanni and Grandpa's" was as American as it comes--my grandpa Gerry was a particular fan of pork chops, if I remember correctly. But come Passover my grandmother became the quintessential Jewish grandma--she made her own horseradish by grinding the roots by hand; her matzoh ball soup featured both soft and hard matzoh balls; her chopped liver was the highlight of the meal for my dad (again: blech).

This year, inspired by our on-again, off-again Sunday night dinners we enjoy with some dear friends, a group of us came together and created our own seder, complete with haggadahs cobbled together from the internet (I particularly enjoyed the Open Source Haggadah). Only two of us of the six at the meal were raised Jewish, but I think that everyone who attended got the flavor of the traditions, and had a great time. Not to mention got to eat some phenomenal food.

The menu included a beef brisket smothered in caramelized onions (adapted from a recipe in the Hannaford Fresh magazine), carrot-leek soup, my own charoset, a vegetarian faux-chopped liver made with green beans (can someone send me that recipe, btw? not blech), potato kugel, carrot/prune tsimmes, and a salad. And, of course, the symbolic foods: salt water, matzoh, horseradish, a piece of paper that was supposed to be a lamb shank, a roasted egg, and a piece of lettuce. If you're interested in all of these symbolic foods and what function they serve in the seder, look here.

Everything was delicious, we all drank a bunch of red wine (not Manishevitz), and we ended the night with an intense debate about Ironman triathlons, and whether people who do them have issues. (It's a fairly sedentary group, so our conclusions were undoubtedly biased.)

Here's my recipe for charoset. And a note to the Press Herald: writing an article about Passover and only interviewing people who either clean out the chametz, create special kitchens, or eat off paper plates is sort of like writing an article about Christmas and only interviewing people who go to midnight Mass--you're missing a lot of peoples' perspectives!

Ingredients

3 apples, chopped into 1 cm pieces (I like to use a mix of apples; this year I used gala, granny smith, and fuji)
2 t ground cinnamon
1 cup chopped walnuts
2 T honey
Zest of 1 lemon, grated
Juice of 1 lemon
Splash sweet vermouth

Mix everything in a bowl. Let sit at room temperature at least an hour so the flavors can meld.

Easter is traditionally one of those food holidays, probably growing out of its roots and connection to Passover. It's also always been one of my favorites, especially because it usually features ham, one of my favorite meats. (There was some paranoia in my household when I was a child about nitrates or nitrites or something like that, which lead to me being unjustly denied my rightful amount of ham. I've been spending the rest of my life trying to make up for that early disappointment. Sniff.)

Under normal circumstances, Otis and I head to Chicopee, MA, where his Gramma lives. However, this year I just felt spent-- starting a new job, a lot of wedding-related activities coming up for my friend Alysia, and and overall case of the 'spring' blahs-- so I played the bad wife and stayed home. At the last minute, my friend Kendall invited me to an Easter dinner hosted by her BFF, the lovely Leslie of Aurora Provisions.

And what a lucky Easter ducky I was! An incredibly diverse and fascinating group of 20+ folks came together to feast, toast, and chat. A lot of the attendees are active in the Slow Food Portland group. Some were farmers, including John and Stacy of Broadturn Farm and their daughters. Some were restauranteurs, including the couple who are opening Bonobo Pizza, a brick oven pizzeria, in the former Supreme location on the corner of Pine and Brackett. (Otis wants to know the connection between sex-crazed monkeys and pizza. If anyone knows, please advise.) Tom and Sarah Flanagan of Flanagan Fine Art were there, along with their charming children. I also met Karl and Margaret Hathaway Schatz, and got to learn about her upcoming book, the Year of the Goat, and meet their sweet baby Charlotte.

All in all it was a lovely afternoon. Not to mention the delicious, delicious food, most of which was kosher for Passover and chametz-free...morroccan spiced lamb roast, savory matzoh brie, fish balls, roasted asparagus, chicken with preserved lemon, potato kugel, and much more. I rolled on home about 5 with a full belly and the glow of having had a day of great conversation. I still feel a little bit guilty about missing the Baron family Easter, though. I hope they'll forgive me.

Unfortunately, since I didn't do any of the cooking, I have no recipes from Easter. But, Kendall came over for chicken curry on Tuesday, and suggested I share that recipe since she enjoyed it so much.

Here it is!

Last night Otis and I went out to celebrate his pre-birthday. It had been a hot-as-hell day, already cooling somewhat, as we walked over to Caiola's. We're awfully lucky to have such a stellar restaurant right around the corner, especially when you factor in the gorgeous patio.

We started with the most unusual appetizer-- a salad of figs, raspberries, gorgonzola, and fennel. All four ingredients have strong, even overwhelming flavors, but together they really harmonized. The plate was lovely as well:

After that, I had mushroom risotto with red wine reduction, and Otis had blackfish with clams in a nice brothy sauce (I think I would call it a brodo, but maybe I would be being pretentious) and barley and herbs.

On the way over we discussed the ridiculousness of the opening of Bonobo Pizza being delayed because the city decided at the last minute that they need an additional hand sink. Because if there are two people working there who dirty their hands at the same time, one certainly can't wait
five minutes for the first to finish washing. Ah, our tax dollars at work.

In other restaurant gossip, Local 188 is re-opening Wednesday! With Caiola's, Bobobo, OhNo, Aurora, Local, my goodness, it's really an embarrassment of riches over here.

Anyway. I wonder if mushroom risotto would be good for breakfast? I'm really hungry and Otis will probably be asleep for a while...

For Otis's birthday on Saturday we ended up going out for pizza to Flatbread. As usual, the pizza was delicious, but as usual, the service was hideous. It always makes me slightly tense to be there, partly because it reminds me of waitressing and how there was always one other waitress who just completely didn't get it. At Flatbread, the entire staff is utterly clueless. This is how I imagine their interview process:

Q. Are you a hippie?

Q. Do you seem somewhat stoned all the time?

Q. Do you promise to forget at least one person's drink, preferably the crying baby's milk, plus possibly the birthday celebrant's beer?

Q. Do you like to disappear partly through service?

Q. Are you physically incapable of hurrying or speaking quickly?

Congratulations! You are hired! Only people who answer yes to the previous five questions are incompetent enough to be hired in service roles at Flatbread!

The funny thing is, the people who actually make the pizza seem to be fairly together. Although in truth one of our four pies had to be remade because they dropped it, or burnt it, or something.

But they were all delicious!

I can't believe I haven't posted anything for almost a month. Time has been just zipping by; I've been working like a dog at USM, freelancing, and getting ready to start school on Tuesday.

We also had a fabulous long weekend in Wellfleet earlier this month, visiting Otis's parents and brother, complete with a fish fry, bbq, a day at the flea market, delicious crab dip, and lobster. And, of course, drinks at the Bomb Shelter.

Whenever we go to Wellfleet we make sure to pick up a tub or two of the crab dip they sell at Hatch's, along with our fish or lobsters or whatever. Ironically, the dip is produced downeast somewhere, and so it theoretically available in Maine; but it is so decadent and delicious, it's probably better for our waistlines and cholesterol levels that it stay a special-occasion food. I don't have a tub here (thank goodness; otherwise I'd be eating it for breakfast), but I think the ingredients include mayo, crab, ketchup, french onion soup mix, and other seemingly random ingredients that, when combined, end up as delicious, addictive, ambrosia.

Our other Wellfleet summer visit tradition is to pick up boiled lobsters from Hatch's and eat them at Jane and Walter's house, along with fresh corn, bread, and the onions in vinegar that Jane's dad used to make.

A word about Hatch's. Otis and Nick (his brother) both worked there, starting at about age 13, for many summers-- about 8 in Otis's case, I believe. The place is fabulous, and Rob, the owner, is a very funny guy who simultaneously takes his job very seriously and not at all. Otis has a host of wonderful stories about providing fish to various demanding New Yorkers-- many of whom were and are eminences of some note. My favorite story is of the day when Diana Trilling first came in, and requested lobsters, "split entirely in half," live o
of course. (There's more to the story, and I am probably mangling it, but the gist is there. Otis is still sleeping so I can't verify.)

Anyway, back to the lobsters. Normally, we get small lobsters, about 1-1 1/2 lbs, one for each person. This trip, however, for some reason smaller lobsters were not available, so we each had half of a 4-ish pounder. During dinner, I realized that this was the largest lobster I had ever eaten! I think that's what comes of growing up in Maine, where they tend to be on the small side.

The flavor and texture was actually a little bit different. Normally, the claw meat is my favorite, but in the larger bugs it evidently tends to get slightly overcooked, so it's not as tender. This time, the tail was outstanding, and better than in the smaller ones, I thought. (I also appreciated the lobster being pre-split, so I didn't have to wrestle with it, or ask Otis or Nick to do so. Yes, I am lame.)

Regardless, it was really a delicious meal, and a wonderful visit, as usual. Otis brought a jar of his dilly beans, which were a big hit. The recipe is from Putting Food By, the classic food-preservation tome. I'm going to include the ingredients but not the recipe because I really recommend you buy the book if you're planning on doing food preservation. (He modified the recipe somewhat-- I don't think the original includes Thai chiles.)

Dilly Beans

Brine:
5 cups vinegar
5 cups water
1/2 cupl + 1 T pickling salt

For each jar:
2 dried thai chiles
A goodly amount of dill
1 clove garlic
1 T mustard seed
1/2 T peppercorns
1/4 T dill seed

Before I go start my homework (yay!) I shoudl give a shout-out to Margaret Hathaway Schatz, author of Year of the Goat...you may remember her from such entries as Passover Eating. Her book just came out, and we had the pleasure of attending the release party: Goatstravaganza! It was great to see such a huge crowd come to celebrate Margaret, and of course, all things goaty. (You can see the back of Otis's head in the top photo on the left.)

The party was held at Rabelais Books, a really wonderful bookstore on Middle Street, and featured a tasty spread from Aurora Provisions, and photos by the talented Karl Schatz (Margaret's husband). And, yours truly won the door prize, an adorable t-shirt.

Good luck on your book tour, Margaret!

(Note, I haven't started the book yet, but it's on the top of my pile. I just finished Heat by Bill Buford, for the Slow Food book group meeting this month.)

I suppose that's all for now. If I can pull it together I'll post my recipe for Law School Ramen Noodles. They'll blow you away!

Oh yeah, vegetables. Well, suffice to say they are delicious. I'm making quiche for dinner tonight, but you already have that recipe, so that's that. Seriously, I haven't been doing that much cooking, since I've been working on The Website that Must Not be Named, and it's always so hard to extract recipes from Otis.

I did make some Artichoke basil pesto, actually, with some of the CSA basil and some from Jane's overflowing planters. So here you go.

Artichoke Basil Pesto

Enough basil to fill a 14-cup cuisinart
A large jar of marinated artichoke hearts, drained
1/2- 3/4 cup grated parmesan
4 cloves garlic, minced, sauteed very quickly, and splashed with wine (I don't like the really strong raw garlic flavor)
EVOO as needed
S&P to taste

Put all ingredients in Cuisinart and whir until chopped and very slightly chunky.

No nuts! The artichokes provide that nutty unctuous mouth-feel.

Jeez louise, I have been the The Worst Blogger Ever™ lately. In my defense, there were a few family health issues (everyone is fine) and then , suddenly, it was the end of the semester. I try to avoid talking about Real Life in here, under the theory that nobody cares, but I am going to marshal the fact that I work full time and take 10 credits in law school as an excuse for poor blog maintenance. Happily, finals are over (pray for As, everyone!) and I have a little bit more time on my hands. Just a tiny bit, though, because I have to go to work today and then jet out to the Old Port to do some horrifically belated Christmas shopping-- I am leaving tomorrow morning for the holiday trip.

So, although I haven't been writing, I have certainly been eating. Here are a few short takes from the last month and a half.

Japanese Overview

Like Thai restaurants, Portland is 'blessed' with an overabundance of Japanese/sushi restaurants. (Note: these are not necessarily synonymous, although here they seem to be.) These include Miyake, Yosaku, Sapporo, Fuji, Benkay, King of the Roll, and Ginza Town. All of these places have specific strengths and weaknesses (with the exception of Fuji, which has only weaknesses), but for the freshest, most unique uses of 'special' fish, I consistently vote for Benkay. When Otis's parents were here in November, they took us out for a delicious dinner there. We had some incredible toro; delicious tuna; and a few really unusual fish I had never had before. I especially love the appetizer they make with their freshest fish and a soy/yuzu sauce. I've only had noodles from Miyake, once, and I wasn't that impressed, but I have been hearing lately that their sushi and sashimi is phenomenal. Evidently the chef came from Yosaku. Oh, Yosaku. It used to be fabulous but the horrible service and intermittently low quality of their fish (there's no excuse for mushy tuna) have made me resolve never to go there again. King of the Roll is fun-- don't go there for the best fish, but go for the deep-fried tempura-battered spicy tuna roll with wasabi sauce. Mmmm. Be prepared for incompetent waitservice, though, which can sometimes be amusing and sometimes make you want to pull your hair out. Ginza Town is 'eh.' If I were French I would shrug my shoulders eloquently. Sapporo is very good but I never feel thrilled with a meal I have there.

So, soon we'll be checking out Miyake. But in the meantime if I want great sashimi I'll go to Benkay and ask what's fresh.

The Eternal Dinner Made Short

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while may remember the Eternal Dinner: a Puerto-Rican style chicken and rice dish Otis made from the New World Kitchen cookbook by Norman Van Aken, which took hours and hours to prepare. Well, I was craving those deliciously complex flavors, so I set out to simplify the dish. It came out incredibly well, and only took about an hour. Here you go:

Marya's Stewed Pork and Rice, Van Aken Style

Ingredients:
Pinch Saffron
About 6 Cups chicken stock (we use Imagine foods organic when we don't have homemade)
About 1 T each dried oregano, cumin
S&P
Annatto oil (if you have it. Since the eternal dinner, we usually do have some prepared.)
2 lbs pork chops, cut into large cubes
1 large onion, chopped
1/2 head garlic, chopped
1 bay leaf
2 cups white rice (long grain)
1 1/4 cups grated parmesan
1/2 large can chopped tomatoes (we use Muir Glen fire-roasted)
1/4 cup capers
1 cup green olives with pimentos, roughly chopped
1 small bag frozen peas

1. Heat the annatto oil on medium in a large Dutch oven, and add the garlic and onion, cumin, oregano, s&p, bay leaf. Saute for a bit, and add the pork. Get it brown on the outside.

2. Add the rice and mix well.

3. Add the saffron and chicken broth. Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to low.

4. Cook for about 10 minutes. Add more stock if it seems low.

5. Add the parmesan, tomatoes, capers, and olives. Stir well. Cook over low for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally and adding more stock if necessary, until rice is tender. (You'll want to make sure the pork is cooked through too, obviously.)

6. Add the peas, stir.

7. Serve, with an array of hot sauces. Cholula goes especially well.

That's it! Now, isn't that easy?

I hereby make a vow that I will be a better blogger in the future. We're going to Fore Street soon, so I will report back on that. And of course, the holiday meals...oysters rockefeller, baked bread, ham, pierogis, etc....I can't wait.