MissFoodSnob.com

I normally don’t go in for the boxed foods. I’d much rather eat something I’ve made than pick up a box of this, that, or the other and just add water. Naturally, there are some exceptions, like pasta; those exceptions are few and far between.

My family on the other hand just can’t, or won’t, kick their boxed cereal habit. I’ve tried. Oh, how I’ve tried. I know I can make pancakes or muffins or oatmeal for mere pennies compared to the $4 a box for the newest Super Duper Sugar Smash Smack-a-roos. Luckily, they’ve taken a shine to somewhat more healthful choices like shredded wheat. But it still comes in a box.

So last night, as I’m picking up a few ingredients for dinner after church, I was informed by my son that we were out of cereal. With a resigned sigh, I trudged down the aisle, headed for the bagged cereals and flinching at the prices. Suddenly, Jeff asks me, “What about this?” Now that sort of question means one of two things: a miracle has occurred and he’s found something that really struck an interest (not likely) or it’s cheap.

It was cheap. At Dierberg’s. $1.99 for a jumbo box of shredded wheat, $1.99 for honey-nut oat o’s. What the–?! I told him to go ahead and grab a box or two, but to look at what the unit pricing was on it, so I could compare it to the bagged cereals at the end of the aisle. The boxed ones were cheaper. Bweh? So we grabbed a couple of boxes of Mom’s Best Naturals, even though I couldn’t recall seeing the brand before anywhere.

I thought no more about the cereal after I got it home, with another sigh of resignation. And then, in the blear-eyed blur of trying to make coffee, I read the front of the box: Made with Renewable Energy, No Artificial Preservatives, No Artificial Colors or Flavors, No Hydrogenated or Palm Oil, No High Fructose Corn Syrup. What?! Yay! This was awesome cereal! Quick flip around to the side of the box and I could actually read all the ingredients. They were real food! Real food, I say!

I have to confess, I’m very excited about my sweetie’s little find in the cereal aisle. This is a product the Food Snob could endorse. The best part being that the cereal doesn’t taste like cardboard, which is one of my major gripes with most boxed foods. Granted, the variety I had was considerably less sweeter than your Sugar Smash Explosion Puffs, but it was tasty and filling, probably from all that fiber in one serving. I’m also delighted to see that the company has a committment to ecological responsibility with their source of power, recycling within the production process and administrative affairs, and avoidance of chemistry project food additives. For more information about the company, visit their website: momsbestnaturals.com.

-What do you love best: Ukyo or okonomiyaki?
-Uh…okonomiyaki!

Our family’s first introduction to okonomiyaki was through the antics of Ranma 1/2 and Ranma’s childhood friend Ukyo. Granted, Ranma could be a punk, but who can really blame him as a kid for loving okonomiyaki better than Ucchan? Especially if it’s made well.

There’s a danger in watching anime, and it’s that the characters are always eating. And what they’re eating looks absolutely delicious. So you find yourself browsing the net looking to find out what that food is and how to make it. We experienced this with okonomiyaki.

Okonomiyaki is sometimes called a Japanese pizza. I personally think of it more like a savory cabbage pancake with other goodies. The batter is, in fact, very close to that of a pancake, and it fries on a griddle like that breakfast treat, but there ends the resemblance. Aside from the cabbage, recipes can include soba noodles, fried eggs on top, aonori, pickled ginger, corn, carrots, seafood or pork.

The version I make at home is a blend of two recipes, that of Biggie from Lunch In A Box and Japanese Cooking for Everyone. I don’t have easy access to daishi, that fish and seaweed stock that is so prevalent in much Japanese cuisine, so I substitute in chicken stock instead. Less authentic, but equally tasty. I also cut back on the amount of eggs in Biggie’s recipe, as well as the suggested Rice Krispies substitution for tempura bits. Sometimes I’ll use it, other times not. Also, if you don’t have access to nagaimo, a grated potato can be substituted with nice results.

All these differences are perfectly fine and normal, given the dish. The name translates “as you like it” and there are okonomiyaki restaurants that allow diners to make and grill their own, with their own preferred combination of toppings and condiments. Which is why you’ll find mine with some sort of seafood on it, while my kids choose bacon or even chicken on occasion. We make okonomiyaki in the spirit of the dish, even if it’s not exactly authentic.

Okonomiyaki

This savory pancake/pizza is quite tasty and filling. Condiments for it can be mayo, okonomiyaki sauce, teriyaki or even just soy. Experiment with fillings, toppings and condiments for a taste treat the whole family will love. Even the picky kids in the family.

• 1 1/4 cup chicken stock
• 1 1/4 cup unbleached self-rising flour (great shortcut!)
• 1 finely shredded head of cabbage (or a bag of angel hair slaw works great)
• 2 T minced pickled ginger
• 1 small onion, finely minced
• 2 eggs
• 4 mushrooms, diced (shitake preferred)
• 1 carrot, cut into thin peels
• 1/2 cup corn kernals
• 8-12 oz pork, bacon, seafood or chicken
• 1/2 cup rice krispies (or tempura bits)
• 1 potato grated into paste (or nagaimo, if available)

Lightly grease griggle and heat to 400º. Mix eggs and stock, then add all in flour. Mix in all other ingredients except the krispies/tempura and the protein/meat. Add krispies just before putting batter on the griddle. Divide batter into four “pancakes” on the hot griddle and spread out some, but keeping a nice round shape. Top with meat/seafood. Cook until bottom is crisp, then flip and cook other side until meat is done and batter is set. Garnish with seaweed, mayo, okonomiyaki sauce and fight your family for the first piece.

I don’t care if it’s got Emeril’s name and smiling visage on the box. I don’t care if Rachel Ray enthusiastically endorses using it. Those aseptic boxes of chicken stock and/or broth cannot compare to the homemade variety. Period. Comparing those boxed or canned versions of stock to the sort you make at home is like comparing a McDonald’s burger to filet mignon. Still beef, but no comparison.

Now, before anyone starts in on the rant about they don’t have the time or the money, let me nix those first. As for time, you can totally throw all of your stock goodies into your crockpot and leave them cook overnight or while you’re at work. Sure, the sublime stock involves a little more work, skimming scum, straining off fat. But even if you don’t take those steps and approach stock making with the c’est la vie philosophy of crockpot it and leave it, it’ll still be right tasty.

Now on the money aspect–I don’t see how any self-respecting person can really pay for chicken broth in a can when they can make their own for pennies. Water, chicken carcass leftover from dinner, a stray carrot in the fridge, a limp stalk of celery, the onion from the bottom of the basket. Yeah, you got it, practically free, especially if you were going to toss those veggies anyway. You know you were on the way to the trashcan with the chicken bones.

Most cookbooks will convince you that stock is made to certain porportions, and in a sense, this is true, since you’re more cooking chicken carcasses than the actual chicken meat (which would cook less time and make the tamer version of chicken broth.) But stock is one of those charming foods that you can change around and work with and everything will be delicious in the end. I’ve boiled chicken leg quarters before until the meat was cooked, pulled the meat off the bone to toss into soups and casseroles later, then put the bones back in the pot for stock. I’ve thrown it all in the crockpot and let it cook overnight until I’d juiced every last vitamin I could out of those veggies. I’ve made it on the stove, bringing it to a boil, skimming the scum, turning it off and cooling it so I could scrape off the fat, putting it back on to simmer for hours and hours, nursing it with more water if it cooked down. Yeah, stock is one fantastic variable food.

Now, there are a few items you don’t want going in the pot. No potatoes. They tend to make the stuff cloudy and frankly bleh. No leftover scraps of the stuffing you crammed into the bird for roasting. Pull that stuff out. No skin. Well, ok, you could leave the skin, but if you’re going to de-fat the stuff later, just pull the skin off and save yourself some trouble. And on that note, no boiling. You want to simmer the stock, not boil it. If there’s a hint of anything fatty in that stock (and you are going to want it out), boiling it will homogenize the fat and it’ll be a nightmare to fully remove.

My stock method may sound a touch complicated, but it works for me and consistantly produces results that please me. The smell on the other hand annoys the family. I woke up this morning to a chorus of “Ugh, what stinks?!” After a quick check around the house to make sure the puppy hadn’t made a booboo, they realized “Oh right, Mom’s making stock.” Jeff says he hates the smell, but he sure likes the taste in his food. Smart man. The smell of a long-simmered stock can be a little surprising to anyone who’s not accustomed to it. It’s not terrible, just different. It reminds me of the smell of hot and sour soup from the local little takeout place. (And speaking of takeout, the gravy on your egg foo young is stock thickened with cornstarch. Yum yum yum!)

So what are you waiting for? Get that stockpot going, and while you’re at it, do a poor Julia Child imitation if you like.

Oh right, the stock makes for incredible egg drop soup too.

Chicken Stock

Stock is considered an essential in a French kitchen, but if you look at many international cuisines, you’ll find it a key ingredient for flavoring many a dish. It’s the friend of the frugal and the joy of the gourmand. Chilling the stock will allow you to easily scrape off the fat. If at all possible, use a free-range bird that’s lived a kind existence. Factory-farmed birds just don’t produce stock on par with happy poultry.

• Carcass of a roasting chicken (or about 3 pounds boned chicken to boil)
• 1-2 carrots
• 1-2 onions
• 1-2 celery stalks
• bouquet garni (or other herbs that you like)
• bay leaf
• salt and pepper to taste
• minced garlic (1-2 cloves) or garlic powder (a sprinkle or two)
• water

Add ingredients to stockpot, dutch oven or crockpot and add water to cover all. (If making in the crockpot alone, set it on LOW for as long as you can and walk away.) Bring contents to a boil, skimming off any scum that rises to the top. If cooking chicken, remove once chicken is cooked, remove meat, put bones back into the pot, then resume boil. Reduce to a simmer, uncovered. After an hour, remove from heat and chill entirely. Once fat has hardened, scrape off the top. Return pot to the stove, bring to a boil, the simmer 8-10 hours; alternatively, pour contents into crockpot, and cook on LOW for 8-10 hours.

One of my favorite stories about cooking comes from Little Men. I love the boys not letting the girls play with them, then the girls repay them by letting them eat their pancakes they made. I love the whole discussion about how the sour cream in the pancake batter makes the flapjacks fluffy. Food chemistry a la Alcott.

Anytime I make buttermilk pancakes now, I remember that story and smile. Unfortunately, pancakes are relegated to being a weekend only food… sort of. I only really have the time to whip up a batch, then sit and savor them with the family on the weekends. So what I normally do is make a double or even triple batch, depending on how much buttermilk I have in the house. What isn’t eaten at breakfast is cooled, then saved in the freezer for school day breakfasts. Why pay for frozen pancakes or waffles when you can make your own for pennies?

Over the years, I’ve learned a great deal about pancakes. You can make so many substitutions that you get a variety of flavors and textures. Bananas, pumpkin or applesauce can be added to sneak in fiber and nutrients on aversive children (or adults). Half of the flour can be substituted with whole wheat, and still have a nice fluffy texture. Sugar quantities can be cut, ground flaxseed can be subbed for half the oil, olive oil can be used instead of butter. I make some to all of these changes to my recipes each time I whip up a batch.

Whatever the substitutions, there is one that absolutely must not, should not, be made. That’s the syrup. Those commercially produced “pancake syrups” just can’t compare to real maple syrup. Granted, my son is a fan of blueberry syrup, which I have made for him from time to time. However, real maple is still the gold standard for pancakes in our home, and with good reason. Those bottled syrups add maple flavoring, which just isn’t the same as the real thing.

Whole Wheat Buttermilk Pancakes

Tip: Don’t make pancakes much bigger than the width of your spatula used for flipping. Edges will break or runny top contents will spill over, making for misshapen, ugly pancakes. I have a broad spatula in my kitchen that’s used exclusively for pancakes and okonomiyaki. Keeping the widths almost identical will save you headache and frustration in flipping the pancakes.

• 1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
• 1 cup whole wheat flour
• 2 eggs
• 1 T sugar
• 1/2 T. baking soda
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1/3 cup melted butter or oil (or half oil, half ground flaxseed)
• 2 1/2 cups buttermilk

Mix dry ingredients and wet ingredients separately. Combine them just before you are ready to start cooking, the chemical reaction that makes fluffy pancakes starts immediately, especially near heat. Heat griddle or skillet (griddle is preferable) until a drop of water dances across the surface. Lightly grease with a spritz of oil or quick brush of melted butter across the surface. (I have an oil spritzer for this, although canned non-stick spray can be used if necessary.) Pour batter onto griddle, about 1/4 to a scant 1/3 cup at a time. When edges look firm and cooked, flip pancakes and continue cooking. Enjoy watching the pancakes puff before your eyes. Remove to serving platter or individual plates. Top with a nice slather of butter and real maple syrup.

I have to say, I was utterly delighted to be invited to the local St. Louis food bloggers Potluck, hosted by Stef and Jonathan of the Cupcake Project. I’d read some of the blogs already and was a faithful lurker at one, so to meet the people behind the food was a blast. But truth be told, I was slightly panicked about the invite too. Because the question I had on my mind was, “What am I going to make!?!?!?” (Compare and contrast to a normal woman’s dismay over what to wear.)

I wanted to make stuffed mini bell peppers, but for some reason, they mysteriously disappeared from the stores when I went to buy them. So, I settled for making phyllo wrapped asparagus and a lemon tart. Thank God for my abundance of cookbooks. Oh how they have saved me in a culinary pinch!

The food was nothing short of amazing. But that’s to be expected when you put a bunch of foodies together and ask them to bring a dish. There were delights like macaroni and cheese with bacon and peas from Sounding My Barbaric Gulp, meatloaf cupcakes by Iron Stef, the tasty “Unnamed Italian Dish” from Smith Family Recipes, and a “I want to marry you” coconut cake from ZiNur. I still insist we should raise a shrine and worship at the coconut cake. (And for all the other bloggers who were there, your food was amazing too. I just don’t want to admit to my gluttony by listing every dish I ate.) If you’re interested in seeing the photos from the event, Jonathan has pictures to make this amateur drool at his website. Just enter the word FOODBLOG to get access to the pictures.

Poor Jeff, being the shy critter he is, just hovered close to me all night and I think said a total of four words beyond giving his name. I suggested that I could just leave him at home next time and he told me no. Give him some time and he’ll warm up and chatter your ears off. He ate quite well though, and even finished off the tarte for me the next day. What a guy!

Tarte au Citron

Tasty and tart, this lemon tarte will delight your senses. The addition of candied lemon slices are an easy to make garnish that is entirely edible. (Recipe from The Best of Casual French Cooking: Bistro by Gerald Hirigoyen.)

Sweet Pastry Dough

• 1/2 cup plus 1 T sunsalted butter, room temperature
• 1/2 c confectioners sugar
• 1 egg
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/8 tsp. baking powder

Combine butter and sugar using an electric mixer at low speed, about 3 minutes. Add egg and beat until creamy. Using a spatula, fold in the flour and baking powder, just until incorporated. Then bean with the mixer set on low until dough is evenly mixed and clings together. (Dough may be wrapped and refrigerated here, up to two weeks. It should be brought back to room temperature before use.)

Lemon Tart

• 6 T. unsalted butter, melted
• 4 lemons
• 4 eggs
• 1 3/4 cups sugar
• 1/2 cup water

Preheat oven to 400º. Brush bottom and sides of pan with just a touch of the melted butter. Roll out crust, place in tart pan and cut off excess. Line the pastry with waxed or parchment paper and weigh down with pie weights or dried beans. Bake for about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, cut 3 paper thin slices from the center of one of the lemons and set aside. Zest and juice remaining lemons. Add eggs to zest and juice and whisk until blended. Add in 1 1/4 cups of the sugar and mix well. Stir in melted butter. Remove crust from oven and immediately pour in the filling. Return pan to the oven to bake for 20 minutes, or until the filling is set and the edges are golden. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, mix remaining sugar with water and bring to a boil. Add the lemon slices and simmer for 10 minutes, then remove from heat. When the tart is done baking, remove from oven and place on cooling rack. When completely cooled, place lemon slices in the center.

I love to cook. It probably began with that disaster of cheese, apple and orange in the microwave, but that’s a story for a different day. As much as I love cooking though, I adore going out and enjoying the fruits of other people’s labors. Because I’m lazy like that.

No really, after a rather impromptu lunch out with my husband because graduate school had been killing me and I hadn’t fixed anything for his lunch, we decided we rather enjoy lunching together. It’s so, dare I say it? Romantic. Time out, just us, no kids, picking at each other’s meals and chatting. Or maybe we’re just freaks.

Anyway, we decided that we really like lunch, and have been anxiously looking for another chance to sneak off and eat together, sans offspring. So when I ducked out of the office on Friday, I called him up and collected him for a little day trip, of the legal substance variety.

I’ve been in love with the bakery at La Bonne Bouchée since I was an undergrad fulfilling my foreign language requirement. It was recommended to the class by our native-born French professor who insisted on the deliciousness of the fare. Who am I to argue with a Frenchwoman about food? So more than once, I’ve found an excuse to sneak off to the bakery and pick up a treat to take home. But every time, I’ve eyed the cafe with envy, as diners dug into roast chickens and quiche. This lunch, this date lunch, this was the opportunity I needed.

The cafe itself is quite charming, with about 20 tables inside and another 10 out on the patio. There’s plenty of room to move around, and the decor while simple, is adorable. Fresh flowers, either in vases, or growing in pots, are centered on the table. Ours had some cheerful purple pansies with their velvety petals wide open.

We were seating rather quickly, surprising since the cafe and the bakery were bustling and most of the tables appeared to be occupied. Once seated, we were sadly treated to an overly long wait for our server to make her way to us. I suspected she had just started her shift or been on a break, because I overheard someone else asking her if she was aware she had a table that had been sitting there for a good fifteen minutes. That suspicion was actually dispelled by the time we left. She was just flighty, as we discovered in the course of our lunch.

I ordered the French Onion Gratinée and Jeff took the salad with house dressing. He wasn’t too keen on the soupe du jour, which was a vegetable barley. When these arrived at the table, I was given the vegetable barley soup instead. Not being one to make a fuss, I decided to sample it anyway. The soup was rich and thick with tender barley, flavored with bay, and chock full of onions, carrots, celery and red bell peppers. It was quite delicious, even if it wasn’t what I ordered. The salad was a blend of mixed greens with carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes and croutons. The dressing made the salad–a creamy vinegarette with a touch of horseradish. Jeff pronounced it a little tarter than he normally prefers, but still quite tasty. I found the dressing to be the perfect addition to the salad. (What can I say, we sample and compare.) Approximately one spoon from finishing my soup, the server arrived with my French Onion. By this point, there was no way I could possibly eat it and still leave room for the rest of lunch, but she insisted on leaving it. I took a bite, and gave the rest over to my husband who happily consumed it. Without a doubt, it was the richest, most amazing version of the soup I have ever encountered, and I would be ashamed to try to make it at home for Jeff again. The broth was so rich, it looked like gravy under the melted cheese, without being that thick. The onions were melt-in-the-mouth delicious and sweet. I’m glad the soup came after all; I’d be annoyed with missing out on that joy happening in my mouth.

For our main fare, I selected Les Crêpes aux Fruits de Mer et aux Epinards and Jeff chose Le Croque Monsieur. The crêpes were light and stuffed with just the right balance of spinach mixed with crab and shrimp. The tarragon lobster sauce on top was delightful, without overbearing the filling. They were served with lightly buttered asparagus spears and rosemary butternut squash. A few green beans were hiding under the asparagus, and sadly, practically turned to mush when touched with a fork; otherwise, the vegetables were a perfect counterpoint to the dish. It was so filling, I found myself wishing I’d opted for the half-order instead.

Jeff devoured his croque monsieur between instances of “mmm, this is good.” I managed to swipe a taste before it vanished from his plate. The bread had been lightly buttered, was of a soft but not mushy texture, and cut of a sizeable portion. (In other words, don’t ask me how the man managed to walk out when we were done.) There was more than ample béchamel covering the sandwich, which delighted him greatly.

Then came the crowning moment, the selection of desserts. You cannot leave a cafe with a bakery without getting dessert. It’s culinary heresy. But we were both quite full and wouldn’t have been able to full appreciate the pastry bliss if we ate them there. When we ordered, we asked that they be boxed to go; when they arrived, they came on plates. We requested boxes again for our sugary treats, which didn’t seem to embarrass the girl at all. In fact, by all appearances, she’d clean forgotten, like she’d clean forgotten who had ordered what when our meal arrived. Incidentally, we chose the vanilla mille-fuille and the four-flavor cake. We were even kind enough to share them with the children after school, although Jeff wanted to hide them for just us. The four flavor cake was good, but the chocolate and mocha flavors stood out over any of the others, making it taste closer to a two flavor cake with drop-dead amazing buttercream frost. (This is not to say that the cake was bad, just that two flavors dominated. I nearly wept with joy over the happy place the cake took me to.) The napolean’s custard was light and creamy, and very grudgingly shared with my overly eager children.

Overall, we enjoyed our lunch, because the food was do delightfully delicious. The other servers in the restaurant appeared to be competent and capable of performing their job without glitches. We suspect we either caught the airhead of the bunch, or at least caught her on an exceptionally off day. However, the owner was quite pleasant when we paid, and we told him the truth when he asked that we return, and we insisted we would.

Ambiance: ****

Food: *****

Service: ***

Overall: ****

I’d like to start off by saying that my first exposure to a calzone was as a pre-teen at my local mall. Picnic Pizza carried them, until they were bought out by Sbarro, a travesty that shattered my tweenager heart–the handsome boys with dark hair and dreamy eyes who worked at the pizza place were replaced by pimply jerks with three coatings of face oil. Alas.

Even then, I was a bit of an odd duck. My squealing, giggly friends all went for pizza. I wanted the calzone. I may have been strange, but darn it, I was smarter. More cheese, more fillings, a big pocket of crust….mmm, yeah.

I make my own calzones at home now, complete with homemade crusts. Homemade crusts? Yep. It may not be a New York pie, but real pizza crust whipped up with no physical kneading, and you can totally sign me up. I borrowed the crust recipe from an old copy of the Tightwad Gazette and tweaked it here and there. I love to toss in different dried herbs with the flour, just to change things up. But start to finish, I can have a pizza on the table in the time it takes to call for delivery and get it in the door. Tip not included.

Ham and Cheese Calzones

These tasty pockets are simple to make, especially when using the food processor to do all the kneading work. Brushing an eggwash on the uncooked dough gives it a pretty shine when done.

Crust

• 2 cups flour (unbleached is preferrable)
• 1 T yeast
• 1 tsp sugar
• 1-2 dashes salt
• 1 T olive oil
• 3/4 cup warm water (test on the wrist like a baby bottle, warm but not painful)

Preheat oven to 375°. In a small bowl, mix 1/4 cup water with yeast and sugar. Allow to sit for 5 minutes; mixture will become frothy. Meanwhile, in food processor, mix flour, oil and salt. Feel free to toss in any herbs that interest you. Add yeast mixture to flour in pulses, careful not to overmix. Slowly add remaining water until a dough ball forms. Continue running processor until ball has circled around 10-15 times. (This approximates kneading.) Lightly oil baking pan, place dough on pan, then cover, setting dough in a warm place to rise for 10-15 minutes. Punch down dough and shape as desired.

Calzone

• 2 cups diced ham
• 1 cup ricotta
• 1/2 cup shredded mozarella
• 1/3 cup grated Parmesan

Mix filling ingredients, adding any additional herbs desired (basil and/or garlic are nice options). Cut dough ball into half, or fourths if you want individual calzones. Shape dough into circles, about 1/4 inch thick. Divide mixture and place on crusts, towards the center, but on one side . Fold the other side of the crust over the filling and line up with opposite edge. Edges can be finger pinched together, or pressed with fork tines. Brush with egg wash, if desired. Bake for 25 minutes for two calzones, or 18 minutes for four. Serve straight from the oven while the cheese is still ooey-gooey yummy hot.

Is there anything as pretty or appealing as quiche? That eggy pie with bits of cheese, meat and veggies always makes me smile. It looks so elegant and tastes amazing. But I think what really makes quiche sing for me is the fact that it’s so darned economical. Eggs are a relatively inexpensive source of protein, and especially around Easter, there are eggs aplenty. Truth be told, some of the best quiches I have ever made were from scrounging in the fridge for little bits of this and that for filling, rather than concrete levels of meat, veggies and cheese. This quiche was the result of the last two slices of bacon in the fridge, a touch of leftover brie, half an onion and a few mushrooms not used in my omelette over the weekend.

Voila! I present the humble

Bacon, Brie and Mushroom Quiche

I strongly encourage people to avoid boxed and convenience foods as much as possible. However, not everyone feels competant with pie crust creation. If you are one such person, a refrigerated crust can be used. Try to make sure you can pronounce all the ingredients though. Otherwise, the one I’ve included is fairly simple.

Pie Crust

• 1 1/2 c all-purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 6 T butter
• 3-4 T water

Stir flour and salt together. Cut in butter with pastry cutter or a cross-cutting motion with two knives, until butter and flour are finely crumbled together. Add in water one tablespoon at a time and toss lightly with a fork, careful not to overmix, until pastry begins to bind. Roll out with pastry cloth or on a lightly floured surface when ready to use.

Filling

• 2-4 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled
• 1 small onion (or half a large), diced
• 4-6 oz mushrooms, sliced
• 1/2 T butter
• 2-4 oz brie, cut into small bits
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup cream
• salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 425°. Roll out crust and use it to line a 9 inch pie plate or quiche pan. Ensure bacon is well drained, and patted off with a paper towl, then sprinkle bacon in crust. Lightly sautee onion and mushrooms in butter, until just starting to soften. Drain well, then spread around pie plate on top of bacon. Sprinkle cheese above vegetables. Beat eggs lightly to incorporate together, then add in cream. Pour egg mixture over filling. Bake for 10 minutes. Lower temperature to 350° and bake for an additional 15-20 minutes, or until eggs are set. Serve with a crisp green salad.

Oh how I’ve looked forward to this day. I’ve seen touches of it off and on the last couple of weeks–touches of sunshine, bits of warmth to break up the cold, an early blossom peeking out from the hard earth. Finally, Spring has arrived!

Why do I love spring so much? Is it the seasonal allergies that flare up or the arrival of days upon days of rain? Of course not! It’s the promise that there’s going to be more sun, that it’s going to be warmer, that I can risk taking my Pug out for a walk. But really, it’s for the food.

The first real hint that Spring is really truly arriving for me is the price of asparagus. It takes a sudden plummet from the near $5 a pound to a very much more reasonable $1 per pound. I freely admit, I eat as much of it as I can while the prices are low. Other foods make an appearance in spring markets. Well, honestly, they’re present year round, but when the prices drop, you know it’s finally come into season. (That is if you’re not a gardener or someone who’s familiar with seasonal foods.) Among these are lamb and strawberries. Two foods my son loves the best.

So, in celebration of Spring, a simple dinner, a selection of the season’s heralds: Roast lamb, fingerling potatoes, steamed asparagus, with some fresh strawberries for dessert. Life doesn’t get better than this.

Roast Lamb

Few foods can be as elaborate or as simple as leg of lamb. It looks elegant on the dinner table, it tastes divine, and it can be flavored so many ways. But to me, the best way to savor it is with a simple preparation. Using a rosemary-garlic herb blend gives the lamb just the touch I want.

• 1 boneless leg of lamb
• olive oil
• rosemary and garlic herb blend
• salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350º. Drizzle a small bit (translation 1-2 tablespoons, depending on the size of the leg) of olive oil on the leg and rub into the meat. Sprinkle herb blend, salt, and fresh ground pepper onto leg. Rub herbs into leg, then place in a roasting pan.  If the roast came trussed, leave it so. If not, tie the roast so that the thickness is uniform for the entire cut. Roast 20-30 minutes per pound of meat, less for a rare roast, more for a medium.