Fall cooking

I’m equally sad and excited when Fall rolls around. Fortunately I love to cook, which keeps the cold weather blues at bay. I love summer, our weekend trips to the lake complete with an endless supply of popsicles and watersports.

But something about turning on the stove and simmering soups, stocks, and stews for hours on end is so comforting. I love the smell of Fall cooking. The earthy vegetables, the slow-roasted meats. It’s a smell that permeates your house, and makes it feel like home.

It’s a completely different kind of cooking from the meals I tend to make in the summer. And especially this summer – I was on a huge raw kick – tomato salads of every kind (see my tomato concern from this week’s Wordless Wednesday post), diced fruit with honey and mint, and raw vegetables marinated in olive oil, vinegar and herbs.

But I’m ready to re-embrace my stove.

People tend to gripe about Fall cooking. They say it’s less healthy, full of butter and bacon. And it takes time. Which is often true.

But it doesn’t have to be. Especially the part about it taking time – I’ll keep my rich Fall dishes, thank you very much. There are over 200 days until I wear a bikini again, and I’m fine with putting a little meat on my bones.

Quick Fall Cooking_FeedMeDearly

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canarymelon 007

I was shopping at the farmers’ market last week when one of the farmers offered me a taste of a canary melon. Its light yellow, almost watery-looking flesh didn’t look like much, but after one bite, I realized that I would never again be able to buy cantaloupe. Where supermarket cantaloupe and honeydew can be dry and flavorless, the canary melon’s juices were bright and sweet and dribbled down my chin. Although Sam wasn’t in the mood to do a mystery food challenge the day we tried it, the very next day, he ate the entire melon on his own. That’s love for you.

ME: This is called what?

LAUREN: Canary melon.

ME: What does it look like?

LAUREN: It looks a bit like a pineapple.

ME: It does look a bit like a pineapple.

LAUREN: But it’s really not.

ME: Why not?

LAUREN: It doesn’t have seeds. And it doesn’t have stripes.

ME: Sam, what do you think it looks like?

LAUREN: An orange?

SAM: An orange.

ME: Lauren that wasn’t helpful.

ME: An orange will be your treat when we’re done.

ME: So who wants to smell it? Sam?

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#love my littlest lady #nyc

We started the week off on the right foot when Emma decided that she’d rather dress for the Italian Riviera than Northern New Jersey. I told her that her chances of running into Snooki were far greater than the likelihood of meeting Kate Moss, but she was undeterred. Childhood innocence is a wonderful thing.

Back from vacation. School starting next week. After school classes. Homework. How am I going to survive? Maybe I can spend a few more minutes living in our little lake house bubble where the biggest challenge is deciding which wine to drink next. Or figuring out who gets to wakeboard first. Or wondering whether I’ve eaten tomatoes too many times in a row.

We are not naked

Soon after arriving, we stripped down to our birthday suits. Did I tell you that we’re nudists? We are. Well, this week we became nudists for the first time. I think everyone was pretty Zen with the idea. Maybe Sam was a little freaked out.

#massage #lakehouse #besthusbandever

As part of our colony, we make sure that mind, body, and spirit are in full communication. Which means activating all of our Chakras through foot massage and lymphatic drainage. It really works.

My husband thinks I have a foot fetish. Perhaps. Shuck-a-thon about to begin... #healthy #food #corn #vegetables #organic #farm #fresh #goodness

Corn shucking goes twice as fast when you have no pesky clothes for the corn silk to adhere to. Just brush it off and continue with your day. Life-changing, really. Nudism could speed up all kinds of activities, from lawn-mowing to dog hair brushing. 

Drinks on the boat #lakehouse #love

But I have to say that by far, my favorite nude activity is sunset drinks on the boat. While it’s great to be nude on our own property, it’s even better to spread the word about nudism with the broader lake community. Passing other boats gives me such a thrill – the cheers from the other passengers confirms that our lifestyle is something that people accept and support. It feels great to be loved.

Wine time is better with friends #winetime #vacation #vizsla #dogs #animals #dogsofinstagram

Since I ran out of photos that make me look nude, I figured the cat was out of the bag. We’re not nudists. Just regular old people unfortunately. We have dogs who pose like they’re having their portrait taken.

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rocky mountain oysters

If you’ve ever eaten a Scotch egg, you’ll know that I do it no justice in this picture. A proper Scotch egg should have a soft runny center, and a perfectly browned, crisp sausage coating. Lighting for the image should be soft, not harsh with dark shadows.

But as usual, there’s a back-story. If you’ve been reading this blog for some time, you’ll know that there are situations that demand that I post pictures of unattractive food (i.e. the oyster post). This is one of those instances.

I have an obsession with Scotch eggs, and will order them whenever I see them on a menu. If you haven’t tried them before, April Bloomfield makes an incredible version at The Breslin in New York. And if you’re not anywhere near The Breslin, you can always check out the recipe in her book “A Girl and her Pig”.

I love eggs of any shape or kind: turkey eggs, quail eggs, farmers’ market eggs with their deep yellow yolks. So you can imagine my joy when I walked into the butcher one morning and saw that he was carrying farm-fresh goose eggs the size of tennis balls.

I knew that I had to use them in a way that would show off their size. No omelets or quiches here – it was time to go big or go home. Which in my mind called for one of two recipes – Scotch eggs or deviled eggs.

Giant deviled eggs seemed to be a little too Dr. Seussish (Seussian?) for my taste. Not that giant eggs in sausage casing aren’t weird. But at least the Scotch eggs would look like two round meatloaves.

I bought my supplies, and off I went, thrilled for my kitchen adventure.

When I got home, I got to work prepping my ingredients. I boiled the eggs, cooled them, and encased them in 2 lbs. of freshly ground pork sausage. I then put them back in the fridge, each egg now the size of a softball.

Rodney called me later that day to let me know when he’d be home. And he asked his usual question: “what’s for dinner?”

This is one lucky guy by the way. In 2000 he started dating someone who kept her Cornflakes and Clorox in the same cupboard. Now almost 15 years later, “what’s for dinner?” is often answered with “grilled salmon and asparagus” or “smoked pork chops and black beans”. But sometimes he hears the following, not one of his favorites:

“It’s a surprise.”

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cactus_pear 005

The cactus pear was a big fat whopping disappointment of a challenge food. Not only did the tiny needles work their way into a few of my fingers, but the interior also tasted like potatoes and mud. I was so excited when I cut open the pear and saw the ruby interior. Looks can be deceiving, that’s all I can say.

ME: Do you guys know what this is called?

LAUREN: Ugly fruit?

ME: No, we ate the ugli fruit, you remember that one right?

LAUREN: I said Oogly fruit.

ME: OK, well it’s not that either.

LAUREN: Is it a kind of fruit?

ME: Yes. What is it called?

LAUREN: Well it kind of looks like Sam’s big head.

ME: That’s not nice.

LAUREN: I mean not the color.

ME: Again, not nice.

SAM: My head is big. My head is going to be like MegaMind!

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