in ur tree, hangin wif mah homiez

The county fair is in town, which means it is almost in my backyard! We live just a few blocks from the fairgrounds, and we were a bit worried about the noise from the outdoor concerts they hold each year about this time. Last year, we were serenaded with the stylings of Styx on our porch at the old place (domo arigato, free-o concerto), and since that house was five or six blocks farther away from the fair, we were apprehensive.

Turns out the music is only slightly more noticable, and we couldn't even hear it when we shut the door. I did wave an imaginary candle in the air in my yard during REO Speedwagon's "I'm Gonna Keep on Lovin' You," though. We're not close enough to the fair to be affected by parked-up streets or even people walking by, so there was just about no impact.

I say "just about" because we did have some visitors. The carnies parked up the fields behind the fair buildings (on our side of the fairgrounds). A creek runs through those fields, and they are home to lots of critters, who were suddenly displaced. On one night, we not only had a visit from a 'possum, but a family of four raccoons moved in and slept all day in our tree. I asked them politely to vacate the premises, and I got nothing but 'tude:

I believe this is raccoon for "talk to the hand."

They said they were friends of Trevor Chang, our resident and possibly departed raccoon, and our elm tree made for an excellent one-bedroom apartment.

Next year, I'm charging rent.

fortification fridays -- molten tomatoes

This is a BBQ recipe invented by my dad and modified by me. It's messy, sticky sweet, and oozy, so it's not really fancy cocktail food, but who wants fancy cocktail food in the dog days of summer? His recipe is terrific, even with the parmesan in the green can, which we use when we're camping and don't feel like grating cheese, but it's even better with parmesano reggiano. It's even good with sub-par tomatoes. You can omit the butter and red pepper flakes, but they do add an important dimension of flavor. It's critical to use good-quality foil so the boats don't fall apart. Lots of liquid will be inside the packet. What's particularly nice is that these tomatoes go well with any kind of meat, and their juiciness helps dry cuts like chicken breasts.


Molten Tomatoes

Serves: 2-4 (one or two tomatoes per person)
Kitchen needs: None! (just a BBQ grill)

Aluminum foil
4 medium-sized, perfectly ripe, round, meaty tomatoes
1/2 cup parmesan cheese (fresh is best)
1 T. butter, cubed into four pieces
1-2 T. honey
salt and freshly ground pepper
red pepper flakes

Make foil packet: Using a wide bowl, mold the foil to the bowl, leaving plenty up top to seal the packet. The bowl will provide shape and structure, as well as assist in moving the tomatoes to the grill.

Slice tops off tomatoes and score tomatoes, cutting a checkerboard pattern about halfway down (don't cut through bottom). Place tomatoes in foil packet. Sprinkle tomatoes with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste, then add about 1/2 t. honey on top of each tomato. Mound grated parmesan cheese on top of each tomato about 1 inch high, then place pat of butter on each mound. Seal foil packet and grill over medium fire, enough to carmelize the bottom but not enough to burn, for about 30 minutes. Serve with bread.

Variations:

The picture above is a variation using yellow plum tomatoes from my garden that are a bit too mealy to eat out-of-hand. You can easily use roma tomatoes, halved (allow for a few more per person). I added thinly sliced red peppers and basil before grilling. Probably better to add the basil after grilling, since it turned brown.


This picture is a variation adding ground pork to the stuffing (and, I'll confess, broiling it in the oven). Did I mention how much I love these tomatoes?

bachelor furniture makes a comeback

One of the things I liked best about living apart from Mr. Reluctant for three years due to our school/work -- actually, maybe THE thing I liked best -- was the removal and banishment of bachelor furniture from my premises. We joked about it, as many couples do, but I loved having a cozy little apartment with cool shabby-chic vintage furniture, studded with an antique or two.

It's not that I insist on new, beautiful things. Much of my furniture is inherited or culled from the dump and garage sales. In fact, the only new furniture I've had is my bed (long since reinforced with bolts and 2x4s -- see below), some Ikea bookshelves, and my couch. My husband is one of those keep-it-till-it-falls apart types, plus he has the maddening habit of buying ugly stuff built like a brick shithouse and then reinforcing it so it will never, ever, ever fall apart. He loves decor that is solid, thick, squat, square -- veritably Romanesque. If it were up to him, we'd be living in a crypt. He sees no need in replacing items that are still "working," even if they are an assault to the eyes. Furthermore, he insists that we keep the "temporary" furniture I bought when I graduated from college and had my first apartment. There is enough of the crap that it completely furnished his entire apartment in Utah. And my plan backfired: he became intimately reacquainted with his beloved pieces, and realized how much he missed his old friends.

So when the three-year chic furniture holiday ended, there they were, the bachelors, knocking on my door.

I've been working on him gently, trying to get him to move the worst pieces -- NOT THROW THEM AWAY, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!! -- into the storage room in the back of the house. The 100-lb. tar-paper and spitwood "TV stand," for example, is now storing tarps and a toolbox. One of the blonde Scan-ish dinette tables makes a fine place to organize caulk and paintbrushes.

But the thing I hate more than anything -- and something I was party to buying, unfortunately -- is his giagantic, industrial, metal, circa 1980 desk. It weighs about 3,000 lbs., has a fake woodgrain top, two tiny drawers that can only fit pens, is painted black around the sides and has shiny stainless steel legs. I don't know what I was thinking when we were looking at desks in Connecticut at a used office furniture place and agreed to the purchase.

Oh yes, wait, I do. I remember saying, "that will make a great workshop table when we move into a real house!"

I tried, last night, to make my move. His other desk, an old oak teacher's desk salvaged from the University of California furniture graveyard, is not that bad. My first furniture refinish job was a similar desk, and I've been yearning to redo the top, but it's ok since it has a modicum of style. It's been sitting in our living room since we moved in, because the movers didn't want to struggle with it to put it back in the bedroom wing.

I thought: it's time. He'll have a nice desk, our guests who stay in his study/guest room won't have their eyes burned out in ugliness, and we'll have a nice workshop table in the back room.

Mr. R. thought it was a fantastic idea. We took off the top of the oak desk and wriggled it into his study.

"OK," sez I, "how do you want to move the metal desk?"

"Move?" sez he. "Are you kidding me? Now I can finally have TWO desks in a row for even more workspace! This is great!"

Outmaneuvered once again. The horror.

let there be light (and storms, almost)

Isn't this the prettiest thing in the whole world? Well, it is in mine. Installation was more complicated than we thought, so we had the neighbor help us install our new porch light. I love the fact that it was so easy for him that he chatted throughout the process. If only we had skillz; if only we had toolz.

Not so pretty, but coming along nicely is the storm window renovation. Although we have been scoffed at by the home renovation center salesmen and poopooed by the internet wizards, we are proceeding with replacing screens and glass, and fixing up the plastic. No, we are not going to get vinyl windows. We'll suffer the loss of heat (we did the ol' plastic sheeting with a blow dryer last winter, and it worked fine). We like the old-school look of the aluminum storm windows, and our nice old wood windows, and we simply can't afford to replace them with something that is either (a) totally prohibitively expensive (wood); or (b) ugly and cheap-looking that will only last 10 years, if that (vinyl). Perhaps we'll revisit this idea next spring, but we are amazed by how well the windows held up even with the broken and messed-up storms, so we are pretty sure that with fixing them and properly installing them, they'll be ok.

fortification fridays - the best chicken kebabs ever

This one is so easy it's almost unfair how delicious it is. I adapted this recipe from one in a Persian cookbook, and it's been a staple in our house ever since. Even onion-haters like this chicken, since there are no tell-tale onion bits, and the flavor of the onion cooks away into something subtle and aromatic. Another strange and wonderful transformation is the color -- the chicken stays snowy white and picks up some nice charred bits from the grill.

The Best Chicken Kebabs Ever

Serves: 2, because we can't stop eating them
Kitchen Needs: Grill outside!

4 large chicken breasts (that's two double-sided ones detached), cubed into 2-inch cubes for kebabs
one medium onion, ground in a food processor (NOT chopped; you need it pulverized)
one lemon, juiced
salt and pepper to taste

In a gallon-sized ziploc bag, add all ingredients. Marinate for at least a couple of hours. Before grilling, put chicken cubes on kebab skewers (I use the simple flat metal ones, but you could use soaked bamboo ones). Mound marinade on top. Be careful not to overcook, since you are still dealing with chicken breast, even though the marinade tenderizes the meat.

Serve with rice pilaf and a moist salad, such as the Jerusalem salad here, or a simple tomato salad. You can add a little Middle Eastern sumac powder or za'atar before serving, but I rarely bother.

stormy weather

We got the bid on the roof -- more than we thought, not that we're surprised. It's apparently the best roofing contractor in town. The thing that kills me is that it's just a bit more to get nicer shingles (we have the standard craptastic 3-tab in a yucky color) but since we're only doing a small part of the roof, we have to match the old kind. We talked to the contractor about having a mismatched roof, and he said it would be hard to tell from the street, the way our house is positioned. Good point, but my real estate guru (hi mom) said by no means should we turn our roof into a crazy quilt.

I've been deeply engaged in cleaning projects, and Mr. Reluctant has been doing exterior projects. He has been dismantling our storm windows to repair and replace what he can. Turns out most are damaged in some minor way, and two are missing screens and two more the sliding glass panel that covers the screens.

fortification fridays - panzanella variations

Summer is magic. Supper can be thrown together with what you find in the garden (or farmer's market), olive oil, lemon, salt and pepper. Sometimes even less. If you are like me, your wonderful husband is caught up in the thrill of the grill, and he makes the entree every night. I'd be happy with grilled vegetables every day, but he makes scallops, fish, shrimp kebabs, bulgogi, pork ribs, chicken wings, yogurt chicken breasts...you get the picture.

I am in charge of the side dishes. This one is famous -- surely you've made it -- an Italian classic, panzanella. It's a Tuscan salad made of day-old bread, tomatoes, thinly sliced onion, and olive oil, plus a few herbs if you have them. To me, it's the essence of summer, since I can always leave a half-loaf of bread on the counter overnight, and the garden bears tomatoes and basil, plus any number of veggies I throw in to make variations. It takes very little time to make and is hearty enough for a main course. It's fine left over for the next day's lunch, too. In short, it's perfect for the hot, tired remodeler. Some people get very fussy about the "authentic" panzanella, but my thought is that if it tastes good with bread and tomato, it will make a good panzanella. It's too hot to argue about such things.

By the way, I wanted to thank the few people who actually make these recipes and comment on them. If you run into problems with the recipes, would you let me know? I'd love to perfect them, and appreciate your interest in my cooking.

Panzella (and variations)

Serves: 4 for a light summer supper
Kitchen Needs: None (ahhh!)

1/2-3/4 loaf of crusty Italian bread, day-old
1/4 cup water or 1/2 cup tomato juice (I use liquid from my homemade canned tomatoes)
2-3 large, perfectly ripe, delicious tomatoes
1/4 very thinly sliced medium-sized red onion (or use a Walla Walla if you're in the Pacific Northwest)
a handful of basil
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil (which should never be called EVOO because food doesn't need nicknames)
1 T. good red wine vinegar
salt and freshly ground pepper

Cube the bread into 1-inch square cubes (or tear it in little pieces). If your bread isn't day old, toast the cubes to dry it out a bit. Sprinkle the water or tomato juice on top, mix well, and let sit for about 30 minutes. Add chopped tomatoes, onion, basil, vineagar, olive oil, salt and pepper (to taste). Let salad sit for 30 more minutes on the counter before serving. (The picture is my salad just before I mixed it and let sit for this final 30 minutes.) The bread will soak up the juices, crumble, add a texture to the salad that's almost like couscous. Serve with a bit more olive oil drizzled on top and a few grindings of pepper.

And the variations:

- Add cucumber or celery;

- Add 1 T. capers, 2 smashed and chopped anchovies, hot pepper to taste, a minced clove of garlic;

- Add red, yellow and green peppers, and parsley;

- Add cucumber and dill (instead of basil);

- Add Italian import tunafish and capers;

- Add celery, Old Bay (instead of basil) and crab meat.