rhubarb

We generally like to try things raw around here, but once in a while we encounter something that’s actually poisonous to eat in its raw state. I’ve since learned that only a rhubarb’s leaves are poisonous, not the stalk. But any talk of poison, leaves or otherwise, is bound to send kids running in the other direction. My solution was to make the rhubarb into jam, which didn’t fix the underlying issue: rhubarb, sadly, wasn’t a hit.

ME: Ok guys.  What is this mystery food?

SAM: Jelly.

ME: Well it kind of looks like jelly.  You know what?  The reason why we’re eating jam as mystery food today is because in its raw form, rhubarb is is actually poisonous. Sam, You can pass that around (I pass him the rhubarb stalk).

SAM: No, I’m not touching it, it’s poisonous.

ME: No, no.  It’s fine just don’t eat it.  What color is it?

LAUREN: Um, pink.

ME: What does it remind you of, Sam?

LAUREN: I’m scared to touch it.

ME: You don’t have to be scared to touch it.

(Emma takes a huge bite out of the raw stalk.)

ALL OF US TOGETHER: Oh my God Emma, don’t eat it!

(Emma runs from the room crying.)

ME: Oh we scared her, we scared her.  [going after Emma] It’s ok.  Remember you can’t eat it sweetie? Remember that you have to eat the jelly rhubarb, not the raw rhubarb? Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

LAUREN: That is poisonous.

ME: Yes. Ok, Sam, get your finger out of the jelly.

ME: Oh, poor sweetie.  Remember, it’s poisonous if you eat it raw.  That will make you sick if you eat it raw, it has to be cooked.  Want to come back?  Come on, we want you here with us.

LAUREN:  [whispering to Sam] Ok it’s fine, just eat it.

ME: Ok.  So who’s going to try the jelly?

SAM:  Me, me I want to.

LAUREN: I don’t like it.

ME: Huh?

LAUREN: Don’t like it.

ME: Here, you try it, SAM.  There you go.

SAM: I want jelly.

ME: This is it.

SAM: That’s jelly?
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DCIM100GOPRO

At the risk of sounding like a one-trick pony, we had another fun weekend up at the lake this weekend.

In what’s supposed to be an annual event, but doesn’t always happen, our lake plays host to the New Jersey power boat races, which draws racers from all over North America.

Since we’re heading into our fourth summer up there, and have missed this weekend on occasion, it was our first time seeing the event live. And it’s a pretty amazing event, lasting two days. The boats are built like race cars with carbon fiber restraints that keep the drivers safe in case of a crash. As you can imagine, having 2-5 boats on the water at a time makes a ton of noise.

But it’s pretty fun to kick back with a beer or two and watch the event. Since the races were happening right in front of our house, we got to view them from every vantage point, including up on the porch…

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…and down on the dock.

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I mixed up a batch of Micheladas, my first time giving the recipe a try, and although it wasn’t Rodney’s favorite cocktail, I’m totally hooked. Definitely my new summer drink.

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Although the girls lost interest in the boat races pretty early, I had two other viewing companions…

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bagel_labneh_FeedMeDearly

If I were to characterize my style of cooking, I’d say that it’s influenced by the Mediterranean, from Italy, France, and Spain in the West, as well as Greece, Turkey, Cyprus, and Lebanon in the East. Although I love Asian food, I admit that I’m still intimidated by the ingredients. But I did recently buy my first tub of Korean Gochujang paste, so don’t count me out just yet.

Having traveled through Western Europe, I’ve been fortunate enough to eat an authentic Pan Bagnat in Nice, fresh lemon gelato in Amalfi, and a spicy chorizo tortilla in Southern Spain, but for those countries in Eastern parts of the Mediterranean, I’ve had to make do with restaurant meals, or tried to replicate the flavors at home.

Someday I’ll visit in person, but until then, I have a decent selection of Middle Eastern-themed cookbooks that have shared the ingredients and tools essential to this region’s cuisine. Some of my favorites include “Falling Cloudberies” by Tessa Kiros, Yotam Ottolenghi’s “Plenty”, and Claudia Roden’s “The New Book of Middle Eastern Food”. I could fall asleep reading them every night; they’re the kind of books that take me to another world and send me off to sleep with dreams of rosewater, almond cakes and baklava.

Although I’ve grown to love Middle Eastern food, it wasn’t a food I grew up eating. There was a time in my life when my knowledge of Middle Eastern cuisine extended to two items: hummus and pita.

While I’d eaten the occasional falafel, I’d never actually tasted hummus until I got to college. In retrospect it was a pretty horrible version, but like pizza, even bad hummus is still decent.

In our campus’s main dining hall The Ratty, my girlfriends and I would eat it every night for dessert, thick chalky lumps scooped onto plates and attacked with a army of baby carrots. We’d wander up to the salad bar en masse, once prompting group of guys to yell out “FRESHMEN!!!” Those frat boys, ever the pranksters. Yes, we were Freshmen and highly identifiable as such, but I’d like to see what those guys are up to now. Sitting in basements with thinning hair and watching ESPN.

It’s possible that some of them are making hummus too. A friend’s husband once made me Smitten Kitchen’s ethereally smooth hummus, removing the skin from every last chickpea. I was thankful. And for the record, he doesn’t have thinning hair.

When I started to cook, I realized how easy it is to make hummus at home, and began to make it often, flavoring it with various spices, pickled jalapenos, or even vegetable purees.

As I became more comfortable with hummus, I extended my reach, venturing into the world of Middle Eastern salads, including tabbouleh, and one of my favorites, fattoush, made with bits of fried pita. The recipes differ, some versions are made mostly with chopped herbs, and others use torn greens as I did here:

fattoush_FeedMeDearly
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redmustardgreens

I don’t often cook with mustard greens. Like collards, I often see them in the store and bypass them for the kale and chard. But I love their peppery bite, particularly this beautiful red variety that I found at the farmers’ market. Surprisingly, given its spiciness, the kids were into it.

ME: What is this guys?

LAUREN: Mustard greens.

ME: YES!

SAM: Mustard greens?

ME: Yeah.  What does it look like to you? 

SAM: Looks like leaves.

ME: [to Emma] Here.  Ssssh.  Don’t get upset.  Ok.  Guys, we’re not playing tic-tac-toe right now.

LAUREN: You’re X and I’m O.

ME: Ok, we’re going to put those down for a second.  Ok.  Guys, I’m sad that nobody’s listening to the mystery food conversation. Who wants to smell it?

EMMA: Me.

LAUREN: It smells like mustard.

ME: Here, I’m going to smell it with you guys.

EMMA: It’s mustard greens.

ME: Yeah, it is mustard greens.

SAM: One of the leaves is curling up right now.

ME: Sometimes you can break it in half right in front of your nose and you can even smell it better that way.  Watch this…..What does it smell like?

LAUREN: Mustard still.

SAM: This tastes like leaves.

ME: It does taste like a leaf, doesn’t it?

LAUREN: Oh, yeah.  Oh my God it really tastes like —

SAM: I’m only tasting it a little bit.

ME: What do you think?

LAUREN: The inside tastes good.
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We were out for dinner a few weeks ago and the topic of the lake came up, and “yes, the boat is in the water, and oh, the kids will love it, we MADE AN HERB GARDEN!” and suddenly we had 15 people planning to descend on our little home.

Which always makes me happy and gives us an excuse to use our 10+ beds (two rooms have bunks and trundles, please erase any mental pictures of a castle on a hill).

But the best part about hosting for a weekend is that I have every excuse needed to spend 2 days in the kitchen preparing food.

And of course, hunting and gathering at the Union Square Farmer’s market for some treats beforehand.

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When we got up to the lake on Friday evening, the kids were eager to check out the herb garden, which despite my black thumb, has grown more lush by the minute.

I realized quickly that animal-shaped watering cans are the key to child labor, and put them to work doing all of the weeding and watering while I oversaw the process with a glass of white in my hand.

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We’d just finished watering the herbs when storm clouds gathered above and drenched us with rain while the sun continued to set over the Appalachian trail. It was our first sun shower together, such a beautiful moment.

sun_shower_FeedMeDearly
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