RED, ORANGE, PINK, AND GREEN

DETAILS + RECIPES:

Summer Squash and Onion Gratin with Garlic Chive oil and Lime. Trim squash and chop into somewhat even chunks (no need to peel it). Peel and thinly slice onion. Use your hands to coat squash and onion with salt, pepper, and lime zest/juice. Finely chop garlic chives (or regular chives). Mash chopped chives and olive oil with a mortar and pestle. Taste. If it's too pungent, add some more olive oil. Generously drizzle chive oil over the squash. Use your hands again to combine. Finish off with bread crumbs, grated parmesan cheese, and quarter-sized dollops of butter. Bake at 375°F until top is crisp and brown and the squash is just tender. Eat right away. OR use as the base for a pasta sauce. OR serve in a pita with yoghurt, cucumber, and garlic chive oil raita (topped with chopped mixed herbs).

These are Bella's summer aspirations involving peaches. The smudged final item on the list is "grilled peach salad." She added it for me. Reluctantly.

Galette of Nectarines and Foraged Plums. Store bought (always) puff pastry. Macerate pitted stone fruit with lemon juice/zest, salt, vanilla, and a vigorous sprinkling of turbinado sugar. Maybe a splash of Grand Marnier? Paint the edges with a mixture of 1 egg + 2 tablespoons heavy cream. For extra crunch, coat glazed edges with more turbinado sugar. Bake at 375°F until fruit is bubbling and puff pastry is crisp and lightly browned. Eat the galette for breakfast topped with crème fraîche. Or ice cream. Ice cream for breakfast. Fuck yeah. It's summer.

INVENTION

I love coming up with new recipes. And so do my kids. Dash's latest is Supersonic Air Cream Pie. Combine eggs, chocolate, mint, basil, thyme, cream, and ice cubes and then bake at 350°F. It's edible. Really.

Last year, the editors at Real Simple asked some of their favorite food bloggers to come up with 3-ingredient recipes. Dash and I collaborated and made Bacon-Wrapped Broiled Figs with Goat Cheese. 3-year old Dash gleefully stuffed, snipped, and posed.

This year,  Real Simple is asking their readers to come up with the 3-ingredient recipes. The winning recipes will be featured on Real Simple's blog: Simply Stated. This is the final week of the competition so head on over right away!

BLACK AND WHITE

"Mama, what do anchovies do in school?"

Bash 10 anchovies with a mortar and pestle.

"They don't go to school. They swim in schools. With their families."

"Do they have teachers?"

Don't stop until the anchovies are creamy. Two-handed bashing works well for 4-year olds.

"Mama, does everybody love their parents?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"I don't know."

"Well, Dash, do you love ME?"

Hearty laugh followed by, "I love you because you're my MOMMY. Why wouldn't I love you?"

Add a stick of soft unsalted butter. 

"What do you love about me?"

"Mama, I love gardening with you."

"What else?"

"Maybe only that."

"Do you love making anchovy butter with me?"

"Uh-huh. Mama. I REALLY do."

Mix until butter and anchovies are fully integrated.

"Mama. Hey. What are you writing there?"

"I was writing a story about you."

Taste. Add salt if needed.

"Can you read me the story you wrote?"

"Sure, Dash."

Spoon into a ramekin. Dip. Lick. Repeat.

"Once upon a time there was a little boy named Dash. He loved to slurp up anchovies, just like his mama. He even asked if we could grow anchovies on the back porch..."

In case you need ideas for what the hell to DO with anchovy butter:

1. Use as a dip for carrots, radishes, celery or breadsticks.

2. Smear on grilled bread. Top with peeled and halved 5-minute eggs and chopped chives.

2. Add to cooked pasta with lots of parmesan, chopped herbs, and some pasta water.

(photo by Bella)

SHARING

When I first had children, there were very few signs that those squirming, pooping, and screaming creatures were related to me. There might have been a familiar eye color or expression, but that was about it. And then as toddlers they just seemed like crazy drunks.  There was no time to even think about what we had in common with all their drama and my constant fatigue. 

But now that Bella is older, I can't stop seeing myself. There's the arch of my foot, the curve of my shoulder, and the diagonal line of my tricep. When Bella sits, she crosses and then double crosses her legs just like I always have.

When I was Bella's age, a crazy hormonal monster used to wake me up early in the morning. So I would read to pass the time. This same monster has been visiting Bella for about 6 months. Thank god she loves books or she would just be staring at the wall until the sun came up.

Early yesterday morning, I went in to kiss Bella and she had already been reading for an hour. I stroked her hair, rubbed my finger against her check, and said, "Happy summer." And then I got all goofy and full of pride and excitement about her love of reading and I told her that something really exciting would happen if she read 100 books this summer.

"Like what will happen?" Bella asked.

"Um. Like something hella awesome." I hadn't had coffee yet. 

"Mama. Wait. 100 books is a lot. How about 60?"

"Deal, my love."

She skipped lunch and finished A Wrinkle in Time by dinner. 

Oh how I love Bella's ability to focus. It's just like her daddy's. 

And I love summer. Dash's optimism. My husband's support. Anchovies. HBO's Treme. New York City. My kids' faces when I give them ice cream (intake of breath, huge smile, pink cheeks).

A few months ago, babble.com asked me for an original recipe. I decided it was time to explore ice cream.  We haven't stopped churning batch after batch of eggs, cream, half and half, and sugar.

Over-the-knee boots. Harold McGee. My husband's sense of humor. Michael Ruhlman's Sex and Chicken article. Ina May Gaskin. Warm ice cream base.

The enhancements (flavorings, chunks, toppings) vary, but our base is always the same. And that base—just thickened, poured through a strainer, cooled in an ice bath—is one of the most comforting things I've ever spooned into my mouth. 

My mortar and pestle. Parents as grandparents. Avocados. Truly Madly Deeply. Heirloom tomatoes. Pergolesi's Stabat Mater. Writing. Caramelized onions. Crimes and Misdemeanors. Homemade chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

We made some mistakes in those early batches. Too much cream. An overcooked custard. Not enough sugar. But now we've got it down.

My camera. Adele's voice. James Joyce. Pandora. Nigel Slater. Annie Hall. Yoga. My nephew. My old dog. Martinis. Cooking for my husband. La Tur cheese. Vanilla bean ice cream licked right off the mixing paddle.

"You learn from mistakes" is one of those expressions that no one wants to hear. Recipes are a really safe way for kids to explore this annoying message. Trial and error. Sometimes entire batches of ice cream are thrown out. It's okay. We start again.

Sardines. Birth. Pizza. Sardines on pizza. Writing recipes. Crème fraîche. Chocolate.

Check it (my new favorite expression from my friend Jen). My recipe for Creme Fraiche Stracciatella Ice Cream is over at babble.com in a feature called Meals for the Family: Over 50 Best Recipes from the 100 Best Food Blogs. Thank you babble.com. You brought ridiculous amounts of ice cream and joy into my home. 

NEW WORDS

Dash and I listen to music while we cook. If he likes a song, he'll place his hands on the upper crest of my pelvis, hoist himself up, and say, "Mama, let's dance." He likes the slow songs.

Last week we experienced Ke$ha's "Tik Tok." This song is not slow. We did not dance. Instead, we listened to the words.

"Mama," Dash cackled, "What a silly song.  I love it. WHAT does she brush her teeth with?" 

"Jack Daniels."

And then Ke$ha started rapping about getting crunk. And then she said something about her junk. I turned the radio off so crazy fast.

"Wait. Mama. She brushes her teeth with someone named Jack?"

"Nope. She brushes her teeth with a grownup drink called whiskey."

We agreed this was a bad idea because it doesn't kill the sugar bugs. And oh my god my kids have a ton of sugar bugs on their teeth right now because of all the fruit butter we've been making (AND ice cream, french toast, and pancakes—but those are for another post).

Last year, a quarter of Dash's lifetime ago, we made strawberry butter. This spring we've taken on blueberry butter.

Caramelize one tablespoon of sugar. Carefully drop in a big handful of blueberries.

The blueberries sizzle and seize up with caramel. After a minute, the hard sugar dissolves and the berries start to bleed their beautiful purple juice. Dump them on a plate to cool until room temperature. Be patient. If you add warm berries to the butter it can split. Blueberry butter is hardcore ugly when it splits.

Beat the heck out of some super soft butter and one tablespoon powdered sugar. Add half the berries. At this point you're coloring and flavoring the butter. Add the rest of the cooked berries and mix until the softened purple spheres just burst open. Serve it right alongside some strawberry butter. We had it on toast, pancakes, waffles, french toast, and even in oatmeal with warm milk.

"Mama. One more thing. What did Ke$ha mean when she said the party doesn't start until I walk in."

"Ke$ha THINKS she is the life of the party."

Long pause from Dash. "Okay. I think I understand her now."

BLUEBERRY BUTTER
printable recipe
Don't mix the cooked berries into the butter until they're room temperature. Don't put the berries in the fridge to cool because you also shouldn't add cold berries to the butter. All these steps prevents the butter from splitting. If it does split, place the bowl over a low flame to loosen the butter up and then mix vigorously until the butter comes back together.

ingredients:

1 tablespoon granulated sugar

1 tablespoon water

3/4 cup blueberries

1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter, room temperature

1 tablespoon powdered sugar

pinch salt

directions:

Mix granulated sugar and water in a medium-sized saucepan. Swirl around until sugar is dissolved. Keep watching the sugar. When it just starts to caramelize (light brown), turn off the flame. Toss in blueberries and coat with the caramelized sugar. But back on a low flame, stir with a wooden spoon, and cook until blueberries just start to release their juices (1-2 minutes ). Take off the heat, pour onto a plate, and cool until room temperature.

Combine soft butter, powdered sugar, and a pinch of salt, in the bowl of an electric mixer. Mix together really well (2 minutes high speed). Scrape down the sides. Add 1/2 of the cooked blueberries. Mix really well again on high speed (at this point you're coloring the butter by mashing the cooked berries). Scrape down the sides. Mix in the other 1/2 of the blueberries until they just burst open (about 10 seconds).  Scrape blueberry butter into a ramekin. The butter tastes best served right away. But you can refrigerate it up to 5 days. And it freezes really well and stays a beautiful vibrant color. 

INHALE, EXHALE, GREENS

Bella shares my love of necklaces, Nutella, novels, and flavored lip gloss.

She does NOT share my love of green vegetables and deep breathing.

Hearing "deepen your breath" is as natural to my kids (and I'm sure as annoying) as "find your inside voice" and "put your napkin in your lap."

I'm also a broken record about the importance of eating green vegetables.

Last week, I bought a ridiculously large bag of pea shoots from the farmers' market. Bella was disgusted. She has perfected that swallow-grimace-holding-back-vomit look. 

"Ooh girl, I'm going to make you some pea shoot pesto that you will eat and like."

"Fine. Try. But I'm not going to like it. 'Cause those pea shoots are green."

Chlorophyll is what makes plants green. This pigment is powerful in flavor (parsley juice, blech!) and in function (photosynthesis). The chlorophyll helps plants absorb energy from the sun. Plants use this light energy to convert carbon dioxide and water into sugars (plant food). Then these green plants spit out oxygen as their garbage. Their garbage is the precious oxygen I'm inhaling deeply as I try to get my children to eat green vegetables. Full fucking circle.

I thought about this pesto for a few days. These pea shoots would need a lot of transformation to please my Bella. So I roasted garlic until it was soft and sweet. I bought goat cheese, picked lemons, and toasted some almonds.

After softening the pea shoots for 30 seconds in boiling water, I shocked them in an ice bath to stop them from cooking.

Some friends told me they had just experienced gnarly stringy pea shoot pesto. No way Bella was going to eat anything stringy. So I pulverized the hell out of the shoots. 

Dash came in and started heaping spoonfuls of pea shoot purée into his mouth. He is one of those strange children who will eat anything. And then he pushed me aside and took over the pesto-making. 

"More cheese. I want to squirt in the cooked garlic. Gimme the lemon. Salt, mama? Yeah, salt." He kept tasting the pesto and narrowly missing the sharp blade with his little fingers. So I handed him a tasting spoon.

I found my Bella curled up in a chair with her book.  I slid a big spoonful of the pesto into her mouth. 

She kept her eyes glued to her book, waved her hand at me like she was Brando in The Godfather, and said, "Fine. I'll have it on pasta."

Normally I don't let her talk to me this way. But she knew that I so totally told her so with this one. She could talk to me any way she wanted. 

I cooked some farfalle and then watched her eat a whole bowl of it coated in pea shoot pesto—eyes still glued to Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

I tried to get her to look up from her book and laugh, "What planet did Dash come from? He's sure not from earth." 

Silence.

I continued. I told her I had a theory about Dash's boundless energy and his crazy love of green vegetables. I've been reading about these sacoglossan sea slugs that scarf up algae and actually perform photosynthesis within their bodies. Pea puree plus California sun. We have a solar-powered Dash performing kleptoplasty in our very own house.

Bella was not amused.

She's also not going to be amused when I tell her that tonight we're having nettle and walnut pesto on rack of lamb. I can just hear her now, "Mama, why would you ruin a perfectly good lamb popsicle with NETTLES!" And then she will eat it. And then, I'll bet you a hundred dollars, she will like it.

PEA SHOOT, ROASTED GARLIC, GOAT CHEESE, AND ALMOND PESTO

printable recipe

4 cloves garlic, unpeeled

1 tablespoon salt, to blanch pea shoots

6 cups pea shoots

1/2 cup goat cheese

1/3 cup parmesan, grated

1/2 cup blanched almonds, lightly toasted

juice/zest from 1/2 lemon

1/2-3/4 cup olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350° F. Wrap unpeeled cloves of garlic in tin foil. Bake until garlic is soft. 30-45 minutes. 

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add salt. Blanch the pea shoots in salted boiling water for 30 seconds. Shock the shoots in ice water. Pour shoots into a colander. Use your hands to squeeze out most of the excess water. Pulverize pea shoots in a food processor until smooth.

Squirt cooked roasted garlic out of the skin into the pea purée. Add goat cheese, parmesan, almonds, juice/zest of lemon, and 1/2 cup of the olive oil. Pulverize for 10 seconds. Scrape down the sides. Pulverize again. Taste. Add salt, pepper, and more of any ingredient that's lacking. If it's too thick add some more olive oil. This keeps in the fridge for up to a week. Cover the top with a thin layer of olive oil to prevent browning. Or you can freeze the pesto in an ice cube tray and then store the cubes in a ziploc bag.

FOR JAPAN

We had a small earthquake today. It was a big enough jolt that my first instinct was to grab Bella and pull her away from the big kitchen window. We held each other for a minute, her hands firmly gripping my lower back, her head resting on my sternum. I could feel my heart pounding into her forehead. There was absolute silence except for my deep breathing as I attempted to slow my heart rate. Then our dog started barking and a bunch of frazzled deer ran down our street.

We felt so lucky.

We sat right down at the computer to look at the earthquake map. "Wow, mama. There it is." Yup. There it was. A little red square.

4 minutes ago. 3.4 on the Richter scale. 2:57 pm.

"Bella, just so you know, the earthquake in Japan was 9.0. And it lasted for several minutes."

We both exhaled loudly. No talking as we imagined what it must have felt like. A shake so strong that it moved the earth on its axis.

Last week, Dash, Bella, and I talked about the earthquake. Dash had picked up a bit of information from the playground.

"Mama. Did you know there was an earthquick in Japan. And all the waves came from underground?" 

Bella set him straight. "Dash. It's an earthQUAKE not earthQUICK. And the waves weren't underground. The earthquake was underground and it caused a tsunami that came to shore and killed lots of people."

Dash looked terrified. "Is the earthquick coming here?" He gets the same look when I tell him to buckle his seat belt or the police will come after him.

Bella froze. I answered carefully. "Yes, it could come here. But we will try to be prepared."

But Dash felt like he needed to do something right away. "This is for Japan." Dash slowly piled orange sections, salt, pepper, thyme, and lemon juice into a tall glass. And then he covered it all with water. "I'm going to save this in the fridge for Japan." We kept it there for a week. He wouldn't let me throw it out. Finally he felt satisfied that he had done his bit for Japan.

Bella and I also made some food for Japan.

Over the years, I've cooked for many sleep-deprived new parents, sick family members, a friend with a broken heart. The attention you give the ingredients, the care you take in packaging up the food, even the delivery, all feel different from daily cooking. And cooking for Japan felt the same way.

Bella's school had a bakesale. She made chocolate chip cookies. "Bella. Don't lick your fingers. Don't eat the dough. These cookies are for Japan." She listened. Her second grade class made $389 dollars in 35 minutes. $1 a treat. That's a lot of treats.

We contributed cookies and a chocolate cake to chef Samin Nosrat's Bakesale For Japan. This started with four Bay Area locations and exploded in a few weeks to a nationwide bakesale. $124,000 and counting.

I was also asked to contribute a recipe to a food blogger cookbook called Peko Peko: A Charity Cookbook for Japan. It features some of the best food bloggers out there. Such an honor to be in their company.

Bella's recipe suggestion was Green Tea Snickers Bars. I countered with Avocado and Navel Orange Salad with Ponzu Vinaigrette.

"Mama, I'll make that salad with you as long as there is sushi rice. Lots of sushi rice."

"Deal."

I'm not going to post the recipe because Bella and I are hoping that you will buy the Peko Peko Cookbook. For Japan.