Out and In

After Thanksgiving, Aunt Jeannie told me not to entertain anymore. She said to take it easy.
Just relax. I nodded, complied, but knew perfectly well that there would be many more guests before March rolled around. 

Last weekend, I did take Jeannie's suggestion though. Instead of staying in, we went out for sixteen dollar hamburgers, specialty drafts, and the company of our friends, Bill and Meghan. The hot spot was Vie, which besides coming over to our house, is the reason you should make the trip to the Western Suburbs for dinner. It's a Michelin rated gem with an impressive seasonal menu, excellent wine list, and a preservationist's dream walk-in. They also offer a whole hog butchering class, which was the highlight of our summer a couple years ago.

However, amongst the smartly casual crowd, I became (at least in my mind) the thing that didn't belong. Party due to my frugality and partly due to the way I've been carrying this baby, I've resorted to stretch ware's finest, which is just what I wore out last Friday night. I quietly hoped that the sassy suburbanites would focus on my new Frye boots instead of the Lycra-wrapped upper quartiles of my body. But I could sense the spandex haters all around me. Or maybe it was just me, hating myself in spandex. Regardless, the food was great, the company better, and the lack of dishes to wash, much appreciated.

This weekend though, I decided to return to my comfort zone and invited the party to come to us. That is, two of my cousins, two of their friends, and the showpiece of the evening, Ellen's new beau. (Uncle Mike, not a jagoff. Two thumbs up from us.) To fend off the frigid temperatures, there were platters of bruschetta served fireside, followed by Thomas Keller's filling and seemingly mile-high quiche, a roasted beet salad, and freshly baked biscotti for dessert.   

About midway through dinner, I once again confirmed the benefits of staying in. It's cheaper. And in many cases, better. Everyone seems a little more comfortable - so comfortable in fact, that picking at the crust of the quiche before its served is A-okay. There is full transparency about what's happening in the kitchen and the guests always seem to eager to participate. You don't have to weight for the server to fill up your pint glass. Stretch pants are totally acceptable. And when dinner is over, there's no road trip separating you from your warm bed.  

There is also something infinitely rewarding about preparing dinner and serving it to a group of young people who have dedicated the early part of their careers to making a positive difference in the world. Whether it's through clean energy, social work, environmentalism, educating some of the most vulnerable children in the country, or tackling the big issues through prose, Peter and I were in the company of some Millennial change-makers last night, privy to some incredible insider information that added human faces to the problems plaguing our nation. To send this optimistic, hard working crowd off into the 3 degree Chicago tundra, warm, full and happy, was awesome.   

So yes, Aunt Jeannie, there are hours here and there set aside for lying down, relaxing with my pregnant belly blocking the lower half of my book nowadays. But the hours leading up to dinner will always remain full, because they continue to bring so much life to my life.

Lo.

Thomas Keller's Over the Top Mushroom Quiche
Adapted from Food and Wine 

Buttery Pastry Shell
 
Ingredients: 
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small container oyster mushrooms, roughly chopped
1 big container white mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon unsalted butter 
2 small shallots, minced 
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped 
1 cup shredded Emmental cheese
1 1/2 cups milk 
1 1/2 cups heavy cream 
5 large eggs, lightly beaten
Freshly grated nutmeg
Salt, pepper

Directions:
Prepare the crust. This can always be a challenge, and stepping up to the heights of a spring form pan to create Keller's crust can be very challenging. Here are some tips:

• Make sure you chill the dough enough before rolling it out and right before you put it in the oven. 
• Roll out the dough enough that you have excess hanging over the side of the pan and press the top firmly around the edges. It seems inevitable that the crust will collapse inward, so being prepared in this vain will help. 
• If you are aiming for Keller's perfection, save some excess pie dough to fill in the cracks.  
• Use pie weights. 
• Bake almost the full hour that it calls for before adding your custard mixture and the rest of the ingredients.

Preheat the oven to 325 F. In a large skillet, heat oil. Add the mushrooms, season with salt and pepper and cook over medium high heat until they start to soften, about 5 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium, and add the butter, shallots and thyme and cook about 12 minutes longer, stirring often. Season with salt and pepper and let cool. (There will be a lot of liquid from the mushrooms. You will want to drain most of this before adding the mushrooms to the quiche.)

Scatter 1/2 cup of the cheese and half of the mushrooms evenly over the bottom of the pastry shell. In a large bowl, mix together the custard: eggs, milk, cream, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Pour half of the mixture over the cheese and mushrooms. Top with another 1/4 cup of cheese and the remaining mushrooms. Then add the rest of the custard. Finally, scatter the remaining 1/4 cup of cheese on top.

Now, there is a reason this is called an 'over the top' quiche. Sure, it's 'over the top' in that it's a higher, fluffier, quite impressive quiche. But it's also 'over the top' in that the egg mixture quite literally went over the top of the (and under) the pan for me. That is why I reduced the custard proportions a bit. I don't like wasting eggs in this house. Depending on how well you did with your crust, look out for the lowest lying crack, and try to fill the shell past that point.

Bake the quiche for more than 1 1/2 hours. I say more than, because at 90 minutes, it wasn't quite set yet. I needed an additional 15. It should be richly browned on top and barely set in the center. Let it cool in the pan until still very warm, but set. Pop out the bottom of the springform pan and serve in wedges.

Craving-Beating Biscotti
(Barely) adapted from Smitten Kitchen

Ingredients:
3 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups sugar
10 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon almond extract
1 tablespoon orange juice
1 teaspoon orange zest
1 cup sliced almonds, toasted
1 large egg white, lightly beaten

Directions:
Preheat to 350F. Line baking sheet with parchment paper.

Sift flour, baking powder and salt into medium bowl. Mix sugar, melted butter, eggs, almond extract, orange juice and zest in large bowl. Add flour mixture to egg mixture and stir with wooden spoon until well blended. Mix in almonds.

Divide dough in half and shape each half into logs on the prepared baking sheet. Depending on how long you want your biscotti, vary the width of the log. (You will be cutting them on the horizontal.) Brush egg log all around with prepared egg white.

Bake logs until golden brown about 30 minutes. Cool logs completely on sheet, about 25 minutes, but maintain oven temperature.

Using a serrated knife, cut logs horizontally into slices. Again, based on preference, cut them thinner or thicker. We prefer a 3/4 inch slice. Arrange slices, cut side down, on baking sheet. Bake 20 minutes, turning the slices over about midway through the bake. In the last five minutes, watch carefully, because they turn color quickly. Transfer to rack and cool.

Leftovers. But Cookies for the Cookie Jar

I've been told that it's just because it's the honeymoon period. I hear side remarks, breathy whispers, and Outlook Messenger dings expressing that it won't last much longer.
Just watch - she won't be cooking like that in two months. Just wait till she has kids - she won't have the time. Just think how much she's spending on groceries every night. Just look at how much easier it is to order in.

Pshaw. For two months, plus the four years that Peter and I were dating before we said, "I Do", I've proved the nay-sayers wrong. I've continued to cook, and usually something new and different, just about every night that we're together. And fine, we still might be in our honeymoon period, but my goal is to never leave it. My goal is to live, at least after hours, during the weekend, and during our vacation days, like we are back in the south of France.

Tonight, I feel like the others got the best of me though. I gave in a bit. Instead of staying on the Champs Elysees part of our honeymoon, I took us into the more humble part of town. Leftover-ville. A place that wasn't on the itinerary - a place that I've had a love / hate relationship with in the past.
(Love: Veal Parmesan, Thanksgiving Day, and Goulash leftovers.
Hate: Meatloaf leftovers. And for some reason, more often than not, the leftover on tap growing up was always meatloaf.)
But a place that I thought we needed to give a shot.

With a refrigerator full of Tupperware from a week's worth of overcooking; with a closer eye on the budget; and with a renewed commitment to not being wasteful, I decided we were going to have innovative instant replay. The Chili from Sunday was, "poof!" turned into beef brisket tacos for Peter; I indulged in the creamy spinach, sausage and pine nut pasta from Tuesday which was zested up with the small pumpkin from our porch roasted to perfection; and the remaining enchilada accoutrement from our celebration of La Dia de los Muertos on Wednesday was our salad.

It worked, and we still toasted the meal. But I felt like I was leading us astray - that if I kept it up I would lead us right out of honeymoon land. So I figured I could make up what I lacked on the stove, in the oven. I took out the flour, sugar, butter, and eggs; almonds, lemons, and cointreau; and whipped up one of my favorite desserts - biscotti. Those heavenly, long, thin logs that Mia's grandma used to send her; that Mia used to store in the kitchen for a snack after practice; that I used to wake up at 2:00 and 3:00 in the morning to not-so secretly steal. Those perfect cookies that are conceivably light enough to have five or six. And the cookies that I was dying to have the perfect recipe for.

I turned to Smitten Kitchen of course - her "hole in one recipe" was all that. And with the added lemon zest, a little more. Five or six. That would be kind. 

By 8:30, we had moved out of leftover-ville and into the upgraded Italian influenced patisserie around the corner. Better yet, by 8:30, we had more leftovers, and they filled the cookie jar. So tomorrow, after Peter takes off his costume ...

And I'm relieved of my Vanna White duties, we will be able to come back to our honeymoon phase over a biscotti or two.

Lo.