After my last post I went grocery shopping and bought the ingredients I needed for Avocado Mango Salad.  I was actually surprised to find perfect, creamy, orange flesh when I sliced into each of the three mangoes (it’s been awhile since I’ve had a really good one – that’s why I bought three). The organic avocado, however, was a let-down.  I separated the two halves to find a grayish-green hue that reminded me of Frankenstein’s goulish complexion.  That night we had really sweet mango slices for dessert.  No regrets there.  The next day, feeling mildly obsessed, I returned to the store armed with my list of salad ingredients ready for a re-do.  I am currently giving the new avocado another day to sit on my kitchen counter and become the bright grass-green, butter-yellow delight we both know it can be.

In the meantime, yesterday was Monday, and as I sat at my kitchen table at six o’clock in the morning, having that first sip of coffee, thinking about the week ahead, the question, “What’s for dinner?” brought me into focus.  However, twelve hours later and I still had no idea, so instinctively I began to boil a large pot of water and took it from there.

Last night’s meal was simple and I threw it together as I went along: whole wheat spaghetti tossed with garlic and fresh sage-turned golden in a saute pan of a little butter and olive oil,  fresh green beans sauteed with more garlic and olive oil, and I’m just gonna say it – Trader Joe’s turkey meatballs that I warmed in the oven and finished with a drizzle of olive oil.  A girl has got to take a short-cut once in a while and Trader Joes brand rarely lets me down.  I sliced a little fresh mozzarella cheese for the table and done.

And then I wound up at Urgent Care at 9:00 pm with my daughter who accidently swallowed a rock.  She’s fine and I know I’ll be seeing that rock again one day soon.  But that is another story.

When was the last time you created a meal on the fly?  What did you make?  Did you surprise yourself with tasty results?

I’m a Jersey Girl recently transplanted to the Midwest.  I’ve traded ocean views and parkway exits for cornfield landscapes dotted with red barns and cows grazing.  My first winter here, I was surprised to learn that not every Midwesterner likes the cold and snow.  So I asked around to anyone who had a moment (and most people out here will always give you a moment and a smile), “Why live here?  It gets so cold and the winter seems to last forever!”  The best explanation I received was, “Have you seen our spring and summer?”  Yes, I have, and it really is gorgeous around here once the trees begin to green and the flowers and warm-weather birds return.

People are out walking and biking, kayaking and canoeing.  Kids are outside until dark, returning fresh-air exhausted with dirt between their toes.  The sky out here is so big!  I have seen my fair share of full moons over the ocean – magnificent! but I have to say, never have I felt so small as when I stood on a dirt road and saw that same full moon light up a cornfield in July.

When I think of paradise, I think of an island somewhere in the Carribbean, lush with hibiscus and palm trees – I think of mangoes, I think of sipping a mojito at a bar on white sand under a thatched roof – my eyes closed beneath the wave of a tropical breeze.  I’ve learned that paradise is a feeling that I carry with me.  And I can feel that state of bliss deeply no matter where I am – whether it’s the Jersey Shore, driving on long country roads, or sitting at my kitchen table deciding which recipe from my newly purchased Cuban cookbook I’ll try first.

So while I decide between Avocado and Mango salad or Black Beans and Rice, tell me, where is your paradise?

My husband, kids and I were in Captiva, Florida with friends during Easter.  I was swimming instead of baking this year and so I did not get a chance to make a dessert.  Last week, I found this recipe by accident and decided it wasn’t too late to serve my family Schiacciata alla Fiorentina or “Orange Easter Cake”.  This is a good cake and as the recipe promises a very easy one to make.  The cake is golden when it comes out of the oven and I taste the nutmeg first which warms the flavor of orange.  It is perfect for breakfast with a cup of coffee perfectly French pressed with cinnamon.

It’s not, however, my childrens’ favorite although, as the days went on and I began toasting pieces of the cake, my one son became a fan of the toasty flavor.  I did receive the following comments from my little food critics: “Where’s the frosting?”  “What are those black dots?”  (nutmeg)  My husband says he can take it or leave it.  I like it and will make it again one of these afternoons and freeze it into portion-size pieces.

I have to say when I think of oranges and nutmeg, I think of Christmas time.  The warm, citrus- spicy aromas that filled my kitchen seemed a little out of place.  I will most likely then, save this “Easter” cake to brighten up the cold days of next winter.

Schiacciata alla Fiorentina (recipe from allrecipes.com)

2 c all-purpose flour

1 c white sugar

7 Tb warm milk

¼ c olive oil

1 orange, juice and zest

2 eggs

1 ½ Tb baking powder

1 tsp vanilla extract

½ tsp ground nutmeg

Preheat oven to 360 (yes, 360) degrees.  Grease a 9×13 baking dish with butter.  Mix flour, sugar, warm milk, olive oil, orange juice and zest, eggs, baking powder, vanilla extract and nutmeg in a large bowl and mix until batter is well combined (I used a hand mixer on low speed for 30 seconds and then medium speed for about a minute). Pour batter into the prepared baking dish and bake in a preheated oven until toothpick inserted into center of cake comes out clean – about 30 minutes. Since my oven bakes fast, I began checking for doneness at about 20 minutes and every 5 minutes after.

Lo que bien se quiso nunca se olvida.

That which you greatly loved never is forgotten.

(A Creole saying from Memories of a Cuban Kitchen

By Mary Urrutia Randelman & Joan Schwartz)

Today is the second anniversary of my grandmother’s passing.  In honor of her memory, I made hard-boiled eggs and I ate a piece of cake.  It was my grandmother, Gertrude “Trudy” Ludwig, who taught me simple and good things like: the 3/15 minute timing for hard-boiled eggs, it is necessary to relax when the work is done, and that a woman should enjoy a piece of cake now and then.  For as many memories I have of her standing at the stove, I have just as many of her sitting in her lawn chair in the sun telling me stories while sipping a Coke.

The following is Grandma’s foolproof technique for hard-boiled eggs:

Cover eggs with cold water.

Bring to a gentle boil, continue to boil for 3 minutes.

Take off the heat and cover.

Let them sit for 15 minutes.

Finally pour off the hot water while running cold water over the eggs.

Leave the eggs to cool in the pot with cold water.

Go wash last night’s dishes or start a load of laundry.

If you haven’t made your bed, go – make it now.

Now sit for a moment and enjoy your cake.

The eggs should now be cool.

*Dry each egg with a paper towel and put them in a glass container with a lid in the refrigerator.

*A glass container with a lid is important if you don’t want to listen to your husband and children complain every single time they open the refrigerator door that “It smells like farts in there!”