recipe
The Unexpected Gifts of a Washed Out Saturday
So Marge. A few of you have asked how things are going. I love that. Thank you. Things are plugging along. I'm adding another farmer's market onto the weekend docket in a month or so and testing some new pie recipes. It's good. It's all good. But I have to say: when it's 38 degrees, rainy, and "ski week" for the kids in school (don't ask--it's a California thing) the market is pretty darn slow. That was the case last weekend. And I don't blame people. If I wasn't working, you couldn't have paid me to get off the couch in that weather. It was a pretty surreal experience though: baking a lot of pie and having very few customers come through the market. I gave some slices away to local businesses, telling them all about Marge. They were thrilled. Pie makes people very happy. I made some last minute pie deals at the end of the day. And then I got smart.
Cinnamon Cardamom Snickerdoodles
I started writing this post numerous times, trying to figure out how to just come out and say it. I skirted around the issue. I sugar-coated it. But here, I'll just come out with it: I stole this cookbook. No really, I full-on stole it. And it's fabulous. Now let me explain: This fall, I was an intern at a local weekly paper here in San Francisco. It started out strong with assignments, bad coffee, and seminars touching on San Francisco history and politics. I was engaged. I envisioned a future with me traipsing about the city covering local food and culture. I wouldn't make much money, but I'd be happy. And well-fed. But in a very short time, the support faded and I found myself at a dark, windowless desk trying to look busy and not sulk that nothing I ever wrote seemed to make it to the right person's desk. The scheduling of the internship was such that I couldn't accept a full-time job anywhere, and I was the oldest intern by a solid ten years. I kept telling myself it could go somewhere. Who knows? In the meantime, I got to know Twitter. I did a little online shopping. I taught myself photo editing techniques, and learned a little hmtl code. I even wrote letters to relatives I hadn't seen in way too long. The high point of each day was checking the mail. I spent way more time on the task than my fellow interns, making piles for the appropriate editors and studying the upcoming events and book releases to see what might be worth checking out. And then, there were the days when publishers and PR folks would send books, cd's, free tickets and the like. So now you can see where this is going. On a particularly dreary and stormy afternoon, my editor received a recipe compilation from the editors at Food & Wine entitled, Best of the Best Cookbook Recipes. In it, the they'd gone through the most exciting cookbooks from 2009 and pulled their favorite dishes. Ah hah. It must be mine. I looked around and slid it into my welcoming messenger bag. I know, I know--stealing's never good. Even if you are a jaded, overqualified intern. And after a mere few hours, my conscience started to get the best of me. So I left a note. It went a little something like this. Dear ______ (overworked editor): You got a cookbook in the mail today and I'm borrowing it for research purposes. Let me know if you ever need it back. Thanks, Megan (intern in the back left corner). There. Phew. Now it wasn't technically stealing. And guess what? The editor that rarely published my pieces also never checks her mail. Imagine that. Three months later, that note's probably still sitting there. Lucky for us because now I can share these cookies with you.
Hearty Minestrone
There's nothing like making a hearty soup to break in a new kitchen. And you know how it is when you move: until you get the pantry stocked and a few items in the fridge, there's a lot of pizza and canned soup going on (or, in our case, burritos). So it was a welcome break in routine this morning to wake up to a stormy Monday, hot coffee waiting in the kitchen, and some free time to get busy in the kitchen. Finally. Now a quick business note before we talk about minestrone. You've probably noticed: A Sweet Spoonful got a face lift! Have a peek around. There are some new features and pages, giving you the ability to print recipes, read travel pieces and restaurant reviews, and browse previous posts via photos. I also added a little Amazon page: just things I like and use often in the kitchen that I think you may like, too. The new site just went live a few days ago and somehow I've lost a lot of subscribers in the transition (not really sure how), and there have been a few mass email snafus (hopefully we've stopped that from happening in the future). So please make sure your readers/RSS are up to date and/or that you've subscribed via email in the box to the left. I'd love for you to stick around! Now on to the important stuff: hearty, winter soups. Minestrone is an Italian staple and is often known as "the big soup." It's kind of ironic that I found this recipe and set out to the store to purchase all of the ingredients (as our kitchen is still under- stocked at this point) because traditionally, this was a soup that you kind of add whatever's in the fridge--from meats, to rice and pastas, to vegetables. Most minestrone's I've had in the past are thick, tomato-based soups. But I was drawn to this particular recipe because it called for pancetta (hello!) and instructed you to simmer the soup with a Parmesan rind. Intriguing. It's more of a brothy soup, with lots of vegetables and incredible flavors. Perfect for a stormy afternoon...of which we've been having quite a few of around here lately.