On Wonderment

I want to find wonderment in simple things, in candid moments, in messes. In dust bunnies discovered under the couch, a collection of singleton socks, the cooktop so weathered from use it will never again be entirely clean. Windows that need replacing,  a box full of birthday cards, and a new pint of Southern Butter Pecan Talenti gelato. Feeling solid earth under my feet, my head on a pillowcase that still smells of clean laundry, a freshly sharpened Ticonderoga pencil between my fingertips. In a resolved conflict, and my tiny first apartment. The beating of my heart; my tastebuds. 

Oftentimes I fixate on perception: what others think and why, how they define worth, if I measure up. When the ruminating gets to be too exhausting, I peel away the layers and focus on primal matters instead. Am I hungry, does the weather warrant a sweater, did I call Nana to say "good morning"? I try to focus on the tasks at hand, the minutiae that when taken together comprise a lifetime. I make breakfast, put gas in my tank, yield for pedestrians. Answer emails, send a thank you note, buy a bouqet of flowers. 

I want to find wonderment in simple things, in candid moments, in messes. Beauty rooted in simplicity is abundant. In fudge brownie pie, words of affirmation, and a phone call from your best friend. Clasped hands, Monopoly, and eggs over easy. In broken hearts, our capacity as people to feel,  and compassion revealed in the unlikliest of places. In arguments and fighting the urge to cry. In succumbing to the tears and starting over. Saying goodbye but memories dear, letting go of something you fear. 

To prepare, line small pans of your choice with pie crust. Fill with your favorite brownie batter. Get creative with assorted cookie cutters. I used a set Tic Tac Toe set from Sur La Table, that can double as hugs and kisses. Bake at 350 degrees for 25 to 30 minutes. Top with ice cream! 

I need to find wonderment in simple things, in candid moments, in messes. I have little faith in the alternative.

False Alarm Tennessee Bread Pudding

They told us we would be stranded, for one day maybe two, snow like an insurmountable blockade right up to our front door. We readied ourselves, grabbed a new board game, some candles and extra groceries. Leftover from Sunday dinner was a lovely loaf of bread that had begun to harden. Monday evening I began thinking about the potential of the snowy morning to come, and breakfast of course. I adapted a recipe from Lodge's A Skillet Full, for Tennessee Bread Pudding to include some extra decadence- dark chocolate. 

The snow came, but not to the degree they forecasted. Work was called off prematurely so we still have the day to stay in. I'm tempted to turn off all the lights, unplug and just pretend. Toss the phone aside, turn off the television and hide the iPad. Have a good old fashioned conversation, huddled on a blanket with a plate of bread pudding and a glass of milk. 

Ingredients: 

1/2 stick butter
1 loaf of French or Italian bread, preferably stale
2 cups of milk
2 eggs beaten
1 cup dried fruit; I used cranberries 
1/2 cup dark chocolate, chopped
1 1/2 tablespoons vanilla

To prepare:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Melt butter in your 12 inch Lodge Cast Iron skillet. Slice bread into chunks.

Combine remaining ingredients in a large bowl.

Add bread chunks to the bowl and toss until the bread is saturated. Use your hands preferably and mash if necessary. Pour your mixture into the bubbling butter in skillet. Press down gently and allow liquids to rise to the top, moistening all the bread.

Bake for 40 minutes or until center is firm. When cool, top with powdered sugar.

If it wasn't morning time, I would top with ice cream. Maybe I will anyway. 

Success is a skillet

"Success is a skillet", her grandmother said. "Come here and I'll show you." 

The little girl dropped the book she was reading, grabbed the brightly colored apron she received for her birthday and stood next to her Grandma, a woman that never seized to show her something worth knowing. 

Grandma grabbed a twelve inch cast iron skillet from the shelf, and wiped it gently to remove the residual oil from its last seasoning. Meanwhile the little girl foraged for onions, garlic, parsley, carrots, and broccoli rabe among other things from around the kitchen. Grandma said, "bring me whatever we've got and we will make something of it. Success is a skillet. The outcome depends on what goes in."  

The little girl looked on as some butter was melted in a small pan and added to it were Panko bread crumbs. They were lightly browned, mixed with fresh parsley and set aside. The girl shredded the carrots while grandma chopped onions, garlic too, always garlic, and removed sausage meat from its casing. All were added to the skillet, item by item. 

Grandma spoke as she worked methodically, sautéing the onions and garlic, filling the house with warmth and the scent of making. The little girl looked and listened; her favorite place had become Grandma's kitchen. It might as well have been a classroom. Formative learning occupied this small space.

She began, "When I was young, we had fewer options. Women were expected to fulfill certain roles. Today my darling, you can be any number of things. But I implore you to be not a thing, but a person. A loving, hard-working person. People will throw around the word 'success' at every juncture in your life. Remember that success is a skillet. It comes slow and steady, like this cassoulet we are stewing. It can't be rushed, and you won't always be certain when it has arrived. You'll have to taste it. Varying elements comprise the desired end for different people. I know my successes had to cook a little longer. I was cautious, and took my time. 

"Successes will be charged with flavor, only attained with time and careful attention. You have to respect the ingredients and nurture them along the way. With enough preparation, the outcomes truly take care of themselves. You musn't hurry or vital parts of your life will be overlooked. You have to savor the seemingly insignificant moments. They amount to so very much, even if at the time, you wish to push them aside."

"Grandma, when can we eat? " the little girl innocently asked. Grandma smiled tenderly and said, "with all this talking, supper is actually just about complete. Help me top it with breadcrumbs." She looked on knowing before her stood her most precious success.  

Ingredients 

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 cup panko bread crumbs 
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 cup chopped onion
• 12 oz cooked sausage, sliced or diced
• 2 cups shredded carrots
• 4 garlic cloves, chopped
• 2 (15.5 ounce) cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 (14.5 ounce) can tomatoes, diced or crushed
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon pepper
• 5 ounces broccoli rabe, roughly chopped 

To Prepare 

The recipe for this cassoulet was adapted from Weight Watchers Magazine. 

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Set aside a twelve inch, seasoned, skillet. If you don't have a skillet, you can use a 13 by 9 baking dish, sprayed with vegetable oil. Or you can shop Lodge Skillets here. 

 In a small skillet melt the butter over medium heat. Add panko and cook, stirring, for two minutes or until lightly browned. Let cool and toss with parsley. 

In a large saucepan, heat oil over medium heat, add onion and cook until onions are softened, about five minutes. Add sausage and cook until lightly browned. Add carrots and garlic. Cook for an additional three minutes, or until carrots are crisp-tender. Add the beans, broth, tomatoes, and all seasonings. Bring to a boil and add the broccoli rabe. Stir until broccoli rabe is wilted.  Pour the mixture into your skillet, top with Panko and parsley. Cover with foil and bake until heated through, about fifteen minutes. Remove foil and cook for an additional five minutes, until the top is crusty and golden.

Scenes from Sunday: Aebleskivers

Loving someone isn't always tidy. It's muddled. Hot, cold and all varying degrees in between. Like powdered sugar all over your face, it's still a beautiful thing. A circumstance to savor. Despite the inclination to do so, you don’t necessarily want to neaten it right away.

I’m especially grateful for my loved ones as I can be a bundle of emotions, and seek assurance more than the typical person. Mama says I have been this way since I was little. On Christmas, I was looking at old family photos with my sister. She had the biggest grin in all of them, holding me close to her side as if declaring to the world, “this is my baby sister.” I smiled often, of course. But in other photos, I wore a serious gaze. To this day my Dad can identify this gaze. He says, “what are you thinking about, Francesca. I see the smoke coming from your head.” While I can try with all my might to change, or lessen my introspective lapses, it makes more sense to own my intricacies and leverage them for the better.

My dear friend Sophie shared these words from Khalil Gibran with me years ago... "Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children."

One to shed a tear with ease, as stories and realities move me readily to waterworks, these words give me solace. And while my family really has no choice but to tolerate my spectrum of feelings, my indecision, and vulnerability, I know their love is voluntary. 

This Sunday, I made something that wasn't neat, but was more than worthwhile, using my new Lodge Aebleskiver pan, a Christmas present I will cherish.  If I had my way there would be doughy goodness, with a hidden surprise of cookie spread in the middle every Sunday. And while love takes patience, these Danish pancakes are best served hot, so dig in immediately. 

Ingredients 

4 eggs, separated
1 tablespoon sugar
2 cups flour (Note: the original recipe recommends cake flour) 
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup of butter, melted
Just under 2 cups milk
Amoretti Creamy Speculoos Natural Cookie Spread 
Lodge Cast Iron Aebleskiver pan 

This recipe is slightly adjusted from Lodge Cast Iron's A Skillet Full. 

To prepare 

Separate yolks from the eggs. Beat egg yolks until lemon colored.

Sift together dry ingredients and add to the yolks alternately with the butter and milk.

Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites. Place a small amount of oil in the wells of Aebleskiver pan and fill 2/3 with batter. Add a small serving, about ½ teaspoon, of cookie spread to each. It will sink into the batter.

Cook over medium heat until the balls begin to bubble. Gently flip using a fork. Traditionally, the aebleskivers are flipped using knitting needles. Turn each over several times to brown on all sides and ensure they are baked through.

Serve hot with powdered sugar. Then call someone who is patient with you despite your flaws, and thank them. 

Lodge Chili and Cornbread

She put on her favorite cozy pajamas and socks the moment she came inside from the snow. The wet layers of clothing she peeled off laying where they fell on the kitchen floor to dry. A fire was crackling on the hearth, lights dim, the Christmas tree bold and beautiful. She dug into a bowl of hot chili in front of the fire, contented and warm. Cornbread followed as a vessel in lieu of a spoon; utensils are overrated. 

 This recipe is adapted ever so slightly from Jim Maturo's award-winning chili in The Lodge Cast Iron Cookbook. We had our first snow that stuck to the pavement yesterday, and this chili served with Corn Sticks (also based on a Lodge recipe for cornbread) was the perfect complement. 

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 2 pounds beef chuck or sirloin tip roast trimmed and cut into small cubes
• 2 cups beef broth
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 1 can tomato sauce (15 oz.)
• 1 large onion, diced
• 6 tablespoons chili powder, in 2 servings
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 1 tablespoon ground cumin
• 2 1/2 teaspoons minced garlic
• 1 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 can white beans, rinsed and drained, optional
• Toppings!   Tortilla chips, shredded cheddar, sliced jalapeno and/or chopped onion

To prepare 

Heat the butter in a 4 quart cast iron Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the beef and brown on all sides. Add the broths, tomato sauce, onions, 3 tablespoons chili powder, cayenne pepper, and salt. Bring to a boil, then cover and continue to boil about 45 minutes, or until meat is tender. 

Stir in the remaining 3 tablespoons of chili powder, cumin, garlic, and black pepper. Reduce heat to low and cook for an additional 30 minutes. At this point, I added a can of rinsed and drained white beans as I like them but not essential. Add additional broth to adjust texture if desired. 

Serve with generous serving of toppings of your choice. I served mine with cheddar, onions, jalapeños and blue corn tortilla chips.

We also enjoyed corn sticks made in Lodge cast iron pans my mother gave me. She was a cast iron fan well before me it appears. Lodge has a multitude of corn bread recipes in their cookbooks. We used the sour cream cornbread version from A Skillet Full.