use real butter

I was in Boulder yesterday afternoon to run some errands and meet up with my guy for happy hour. It had been over a week since I had passed through town on my way to get chemo’d and it was snowing then. The once barren branches of bushes and trees are now delicately dotted with pinks, purples, reds, yellows, whites, and greens. Such a transformation, it does wonders for my mental state.

pearl street starts showing off her early colors

oh the cherries

I may have jumped the gun by a few days because that happy hour fare went down hard and I apparently have mucositis yet again. Puts the kibosh on that whole eating of solid foods thing that I like to do. Patience.

Over the years I’ve gathered recipes from many of the people I’ve encountered. Some recipes you get in passing and others, oddly enough, you hang on to even when the relationship died a painful (but desperately needed) death. Like the turkey meatloaf recipe I nabbed from one ex. I suppose that was from his mother, really. And I didn’t get *any* good recipes from The Crier… just as well - all of that crying made me insane.

Today I made a recipe I got from an old college roommate. Actually, she was my best friend for several years until I began to realize that she was not especially nice to me. Jeremy, my (late) sister, and even this woman’s ex-boyfriend all confirmed it when I asked, and they pointed out that she isn’t what you’d consider “nice” in general. Well thanks for that heads up, fellas… It was the emergence of Bridezilla that helped me make the clean break. If ever you need to find a woman gone evil, try a wedding.

But I kept the recipe. *snort* This one is quite handy for the summer months when you have baseball bat zucchini growing out of your ears.

the start to some great zucchini bread

Let’s give credit where credit is due. This isn’t her recipe, it’s her grandma’s recipe. Grandma had the magic touch. She didn’t measure anything, she just threw it together by feel and golden loaves of goodness emerged from her kitchen. Perfect every time.

yup - i shred all year, kids

Grandma was kind enough to jot down a recipe for us with hand-wavy measurements. It seemed to work just fine, although I always found that it was missing that certain special something… Grandma’s touch.

add the greens

mix the dry ingredients until just combined

This recipe works like a charm at sea-level. I find at elevation (8500 feet asl) I need to reduce the leavening (baking soda) or else the tops of the loaves tend to rise too fast and cave. Damn annoying.

fold in walnuts

pour into loaf pans

This bread whips up in no time and has a terrific moist crumb without being too heavy. If you make this recipe, be sure to thank Grandma Esau (who is no longer with us). Thanks, Grandma Esau.

perfect for snacking

Grandma Esau’s Zucchini Bread

3 eggs
2 cups grated zucchini
2 cups sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
1 tbsp vanilla
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup chopped nuts (I use walnuts)

Preheat oven to 350F. Beat the eggs until foamy. Gradually beat in the sugar and vanilla. Mix in the grated zucchini and the oil. Add the dry ingredients (flour, salt, and baking soda) and incorporate until just combined. Fold in chopped nuts and pour batter into two greased loaf pans. Bake for an hour or until a toothpick comes out almost clean (moist crumb stage).

I can still spy snow on the ground across the valley, but the sun has been doing her work in these parts. We have one giant snow bank left in the shadow of our garage. The rest of the yard has thawed and dried, much to Kaweah’s exploratory delight. It’s beautiful, really. While I was feeling like hell over the weekend, Jeremy cracked a window overnight to let some cool air in. Although my taste is boned from the chemo, my sense of smell is heightened and in my delirious state, the smell of that mountain air calmed me. I love being outside, sleeping in the dirt, smelling the pine forests, walking the hills. It smelled like camping, because we always camp in the mountains - but we live here. Hell yeah.

front yard first blooms: dragon’s blood

I can tell when I’m on the rebound from a chemo when I start thinking about what to cook next without wanting to hurl. That and I can finally clean out all of the penis-enlargement spam from my in-box…

I’m ready for spring now - or perhaps you’d call it sprummer since spring is more of a concept than a season here. I’m ready! Okay, I *am* holding out for one last storm to blow through here in a week or so if the atmospheric modeler, whose blog I read and worship, is correct (usually is). Haven’t put the tele boots away just yet, but I wore shorts yesterday and dusted off my trail runners. Can’t wait for the trees in Boulder to start pushing their blossoms out. The forsythia have already begun in earnest. Love to hear the bird songs around our house and watch gem-colored hummingbirds dogfight for territory from our deck. Did I mention the wildflowers? I’ll take those understated beauties over a royal botanical garden any day. I look forward to the cleansing effect of our afternoon thunderstorms and the feel of moist ground underfoot that solidifies before sunset each day. There’s nothing so soothing as waking before dawn and having that softly lit world all to yourself… unless you were up late admiring the August night sky and the Perseids shower. I’ve got drupes, berries, herbs, greens, seafood, iced teas, fruity girl cocktails, and grilling on the brain. Oh the grilling… I may be a ski whore, but there is something to love about every season - and I do.

let’s begin with some chicken: i like thigh meat

My attitude toward grilling is pretty straightforward: make the food taste Good. There is some crazy notion that men can grill because they are men. I’ve witnessed far too many men grill as if on a mission to char every ounce of protein within a two foot radius of the fire. [Is this somehow connected to the way men feel compelled to press the call-elevator button again and again, giving me that reassuring “I’ll take care of it, Missy” grin when I’m standing there waiting patiently for the elevator I had already called?]

pour in fresh lemon juice

Of course, men who DO know how to cook/grill/bake - well… that’s about as hot as a man who can tele like silk in my book ;) Anyway, I think my southern childhood of summer barbecues with leathery, dry chicken breasts off the grill at countless gatherings has turned me off to grilling chicken breasts. I prefer chicken thigh meat and that’s what I tend to use for kebabs.

add salt and freshly ground pepper

My first true introduction to Middle Eastern food was at Wahib’s… Wahib’s Middle East Restaurant in Alhambra, California. It got the seal of approval from NASA officials and Jordanian nationals alike (i.e. my old boss). I can’t even list all of the foods I fell in love with there, but when we departed for the East Coast to start grad school, I knew I’d have to find my own way without Wahib.

onto the skewers they go

The recipe is uber simple, which is good because I equate grilling with simple. Chicken, garlic, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Dump it in a bag or bowl and marinate. Skewer those babies and grill.

baste and turn

The chicken is great served with a traditional side like saffron rice, but it’s also fantastic with grilled vegetables, salads, whatever floats your boat. That’s the beauty of the grill… it’s all good - just like the seasons.

serve immediately off the grill

Chicken Kebabs
modified from Middle Eastern Cooking by Christine Osborne

6 tbsp olive oil
6 tbsp lemon juice
2 cloves garlic, crushed
salt
pepper
2 lbs chicken, cut into good-sized cubes (I prefer thigh meat)
saffron or 1/2 tsp turmeric
1 tbsp butter, melted

Combine chicken, oil, lemon, garlic, salt, and pepper in a ziploc bag and let marinate for several hours (I go 24). Dissolve saffron or turmeric in melted butter. Thread the chicken pieces onto the skewers. Cook over high heat and baste with butter mixture, turning frequently for about 15 minutes or until chicken is done. Serve with saffron rice.

I am spazzing out just like I always do the night before chemo. I started my steroids today, which make me hyper. I drank a cola tonight (I rarely do, but caffeine helps to reduce this crazy swelling I get right about now) and that makes me hyper too. Last time this happened I just rattled on and on all night while lying in bed. My mouth was running 100 mph at poor Jeremy who was trying desperately to catch some shut eye, but he’s too kind to tell me to shut it… or maybe he just knows it’s pointless. There I was, “bluhluhluhlubluhluhluhluhbluhluhluhbluh…” until I finally got up and turned on the computer and eventually went to sleep out of boredom.

Luckily, I took advantage of my spike in energy and made a shit ton of food tonight after dinner. I had an ungodly amount of egg yolks leftover from the petits fours, so I made a quart of matcha green tea ice cream and another quart of coffee ice cream - all for Jeremy. The man loves his caffeine. He drinks two large mugs of dark roast coffee and can fall asleep within the hour. That’s crazy. I wash a coffee mug and I don’t shut up all night. I also cooked up a batch of laab for the guy. It’s always a little frenzied right before chemo. Because Jeremy spends the next 4 days working, cleaning, taking care of me, taking care of the dog, I feel it’s the least I can do to prepare a bunch of food for him ahead of time. He’s got a lovely red curry waiting for him in the fridge too.

Another regularly scheduled event either the day before or day of chemo: big dump snow day. Why? It could just be some periodicity in the parade of troughs that march across the continental US this time of year. Or it could be Mother Nature flipping me the bird. Either way, it’s one more thing I’ve had to just suck up and accept. We had 4 inches on our deck when we grilled dinner this evening (yeah, great planning on my part), and the forecast is for another 8-12 inches tonight. $%#^&@*~!

j-man does his thang

marinated beef skirt steak kebabs

The kebabs were fabulous. If you see kebab meat in the grocery store - don’t buy it. They use some crap chuck cut. What you should seek out is the skirt steak. In beef, tenderness is inversely proportional to flavor. The most tender cuts like filet mignon have okay flavor. The toughest cuts like shoulder, rump - great flavor as long as you slow cook the hell out of them. Skirt and flank are a happy medium for grilling, particularly with a marinade. I cut up a pound of skirt steak and sealed it in a ziploc with the juice of 1 lemon, 3 tbsp of olive oil, salt, pepper, and some oregano. 24 hours later… skewer those lovelies and grill on high to rare (okay, rare for me - you do what you want). That is some happy carnivore fare.

But back to our bipolar weather. Yesterday was hot in our town. Like 60F. The good thing about the warm spell was that we could finally give Miss Stinky a bath. Yes, Kaweah has been sporting a serious stink lately. No longer! Now she’s soft, fluffy, and smells of lavender (Buddy Wash and Buddy Rinse are teh best dog shampoo/conditioner).

she hates the baths

don’t feel too sorry for her

Okay, and back to dinner tonight. [Can you tell I’m spastic right now?!] I had an extra lemon chiffon cake from making petits fours, because you can’t make THAT many petits fours without becoming a little homicidal. What better way to use it up than to make some faux strawberry shortcake. I don’t think I’ve ever made real strawberry shortcake, I just take extra cake I have lying around, macerated sliced strawberries, and freshly whipped cream (add a little vanilla and almond extract for that “oh!”)…

oh, how can i NOT plate it?

top with more cake, more cream, and a garnish

I confess, I took a nibble. I’m supposed to avoid strawberries, but I couldn’t help it… just like the time I ordered a salad because if I didn’t get some raw greens I was going to run outside and gnaw on the hedge. Strawberries taste of warm weather - like the time we had just gone backpacking in Kings Canyon NP and were driving back to Pasadena on the 99 through California’s San Joaquin Valley on Memorial Day some 14 years ago. We (Jeremy, myself, and this other fellow who is what you’d call a human Golden Retriever) stopped at a roadside stand and bought a flat of strawberries for $7. FOR $7!! These were the kind that bled juicy goodness at the slightest touch, they were so ripe. We ate them all while crawling through the Grapevine with the rest of Los Angeles. It looked like murder. Then we got stomach aches. But it was worth it… and so was this.

Well kids, that’s all I got and that’s all you’ll get for a few days. Be good.