A Moveable Feast: My Blog

The Cheese State of Bliss

February 2, 2015 by Carol 1 Comment

My wonderful literary agent, Kimiko, and I were enjoying lunch while discussing our respective menu choices as well as food in general. She began to tell me about her Brazilian sister-in-law’s delicious cheese bread recipe. I like the sound of anything with cheese in the name, and Kimiko likes it because it is gluten free.

Suddenly, a man at the next table turned to us. He apologized for eavesdropping on our conversation, but felt that as a native Brazilian, he must tell us some important things about pao de queijo. Among the facts about this very popular Brazilian snack food was his warning NEVER to make it in a blender, as some recipes direct, or we would end up with a block of concrete.

Intrigued by the thought of a chewy, cheesy bread roll, I searched the Internet for recipes the minute I got home. Of course, the ones at the top of the list instructed the home cook to put ingredients into – you got it — a blender. Adequately forewarned, I found another recipe further down the list.

The only ingredient I didn’t have in the house was the base ingredient in the recipe, tapioca flour. It is this flour which makes pao de queijo the quintessential food of Brazil, as the starch is extracted from the cassava root, native to the northern region of the country.

As is my wont, I tempted fate by preparing the pao de queijo for the first time for a company lunch, making a batch to go along with tomato soup and a salad.

The positive: the pao de queijo was cheesy, chewy, and absolutely yummy.

The negatives: 1) I should have made a triple batch because 2) these treats are potentially addictive.

The Wish Book

January 20, 2015 by Carol 2 Comments

My kitchen table sits next to a big bay window that looks out onto my backyard. I love to sip my morning coffee gazing out at the expanse of green surrounded by all manner of trees and shrubs. Crab apple, wisteria, potentilla, hydrangea, spirea, climbing roses. Their vivid colors against the lush greens fill my mornings with cheer. Isn’t it great to be alive? And, isn’t it amazing how many shades of green there are?

As the frigid cold descends upon Central Massachusetts, thank goodness for the evergreens. Rhododendrum, azalea, spruce, and arbor vitae provide a warming counterpoint to the bare gray branches that make shiver. Even when it snows, the branches of these backyard stalwarts provide a sculptural framework for sparkling white frosting.

Round about January I start to fantasize about palm trees. Tall and gangly, with a Dr. Seuss-like mop of foliage on their heads, they sway in balmy tropical breezes in time to the rhythm of steel drums while I lounge in a hot sun drinking fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them.

But I am not in the tropics. I am in New England. So, I sit with baited breath awaiting the arrival of the postman. In his bag should be the annual onslaught of seed catalogues. These books filled with fruits, berries, vegetables, and flowers entice me and, even though I know that my plans are bigger than my acreage, I devour their pages with hungry eyes. Vibrant reds, sunny yellows, rich purples – they compete for my attention. And I want them all.

Astronomical spring will be here in about 59 days, and perhaps the path to the backyard will be clear enough to be able to plant some peas, even if I have to start them in the cold frame. In the meantime, I am poised like a Pavlovian dog waiting for the postman to ring twice and set me to salivating.

Channeling Julie and Julia

December 31, 2014 by Carol 2 Comments

In preparation for cooking a Middle Eastern feast promised to the two highest bidders at a recent charity auction, I have been trying out recipes. What should I serve? How many courses? We will have five vegetarians between the two groups, so my options are somewhat limited, although all of the veggies will eat fish.

To help me decide on the menus, I am working my way through my own store of recipes and two particular cookbooks: restaurateurs Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi’s Jerusalem, and Hadassah College Cooks, the latter published by the school’s renowned former culinary program.

One of my main concerns in all the whirl of cooking and baking is how long hubby Joel will put up with having to try new recipes on an almost daily basis. He does love to eat, and the recipes are all superb, but I fear that he will cry out at some point, “Enough! Just give me a scrambled egg!”

As I was pondering this potential roadblock yesterday afternoon, a bolt of electricity suddenly shook me. The spirit of Julie Powell had take residence in my soul — she, who famously spent a year cooking her way through Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

I tried to remember how Powell’s husband reacted to being force-fed French cuisine night after night like some human goose being prepped for its fois gras. My recollection was that he was fine with the eating, but not so fine with his wife’s obsession.

So far we have gobbled up wild rice stuffed grape leaves, homemade pita, a burnt eggplant soup with mograbieh, spiced chickpea with fresh vegetable salad, Moroccan vegetable stew over couscous, and roasted butternut squash and red onions with tahini and za’atar. Joel has not uttered one word of complaint, despite the mountain of pots and pans the preparation has entailed.

As for me, just reading this over makes me crave dry toast for supper.

Hitting the Sauce

December 18, 2014 by Carol Leave a Comment

Hanukkah is here, which means that it is time to bring out the traditional holiday foods. While I prefer my potato latkes straight up and salty, with no condiments, everybody else in my family wants sour cream and applesauce.

Sour cream is best left to Hood or Breakstone, but applesauce must be homemade. This will not be the stuff prepared from our wild apples, as that was inhaled before Thanksgiving, but a new batch made from Granny Smiths, my absolute favorite for cooking and baking.

Coming from the bitter cold into a warm house is comforting. Entering one filled with the aroma of cinnamon-infused apples cheerfully exclaims, “Welcome, and join us around the hearth!”

May all your candles burn bright with hope, peace, and freedom.

Forced Labor?

July 1, 2014 by Carol Leave a Comment

So the Supreme Court has already told us that corporations are people. This week the nine justices, in their next “logical” step in anthropomorphizing businesses, has ruled that a company’s owners’ religious beliefs can entitle them to deny birth control coverage to their female employees.
While I would never deny the right of anybody to have religious beliefs, I am appalled that the Court says these companies are allowed to impinge their own on the beliefs and health care of others who happen to draw paychecks from them.
I had a dream last night. All the employed people in this country who believe in the right to choose their own health care quit their jobs at Hobby Lobby and Conestoga, et al. en masse, leaving these companies and the rest of their ilk with nobody to staff their stores and warehouses.
Of course, my dream is indeed just a flight of fancy. The women – and men – who work at these shops don’t have the luxury of turning away a paycheck and important benefits. But, wouldn’t it be amazing if other businesses with more progressive – more humane – views would pledge to hire all these good workers so that there would be no downside for those who quit?
Wouldn’t a massive, nationwide action make a statement that would be heard all across the corporate world’s ledger books?

Dumb Luck: Winning (?) the Lottery

June 29, 2014 by Carol 1 Comment

The clerk promised me that being selected for jury duty is strictly random. She told me that on my seventh trip to court. A few days ago I received my ninth — ninth!! — call to jury duty in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

I know people who have never been called. How could it be that I have been so fortunate?

I should only be so lucky with the Powerball. Now, I actually studied statistics in college and grad school, and even taught the subject at one point. I know that my chances are slimmer than the proverbial snowball’s in hell. But I do buy a ticket when the jackpot is really, really big since my chance of hitting all six numbers is no less with a large jackpot of $300 million than with a small one of only $10 million (yeah, I know, “only $10 million” sounds crazy). That way, if I’m not going to win, then at least I will not have won a big jackpot.

And what the heck, this is entertainment. I can get several day’s worth of heart-pumping adrenalin awaiting the morning paper with its publication of the winning numbers. I think it might even count as aerobic exercise.

But back to jury duty. I have been summoned to trial court. Again. I will either be chosen, or will spend another four to five hours of my life sitting on a hard chair in a stuffy room, and waving a number placard overhead in response to questions. Would that count as aerobics, or weight lifting?

In theory, I think it would be a very interesting experience to sit on a jury, and I know it’s a civic duty. But, shouldn’t the other seven million people in Massachusetts have the chance to serve? I am willing to share my luck.