Made With Love


This past week, My Kid asked for our homemade chicken noodle soup recipe to add to the recipe notebook that I made for him when he moved into his own apartment.  And it surprised me that it hadn’t even occurred to me to include this recipe, because this is The Recipe in my life.  The recipe has never touched the page because it is something that I take with me everywhere I go.  My mom’s chicken noodle soup with homemade egg noodles has always been my favorite food.

My Mom's chicken noodle soup recipe

In my early memories, I remember looking up under my Mom’s pullout wood cutting board, with flour dusting around me like snow on the avocado green and yellow linoleum as she would hand me a noodle to unfold.  She would smile down at me and gently chide me if I started to eat too many of them.  Every winter, I stood at a different height against the ruler of her cutting board. I remember the first time that she pressed the worn nub of her paring knife in my hand and taught me how to cut the dough rolled up tight like a sleeping bag into strips that unfolded into the ribbons of pasta noodles.  By that time, the short stubby end noodles were the agreed upon samples and I would happily stuff them into my mouth enjoying the doughy texture, while she just shook her head at me, looking vaguely repulsed. 



When I turned five, my Mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday dinner at my party and I asked for her homemade chicken noodle soup. And on that 100+ degree August afternoon, she made a massive batch of soup with sweat trickling down her flushed face as our extended family took turns standing in the wading pool to cool off. And I knew with no doubt that she loved me.

Over the years, her smile faded into the firm concrete of deep depression and she grew remote and hollow.  Her words would fall like brittle shards of glass around me and I would look forward to the chicken noodle soup that would bring us together, side by side in front of her cutting board with a dull nub of a knife and flour sifting down between us.  The year came that she no longer craved or desired her chicken noodle soup.  Years whooshed past and then I met a man and fell deeply in love with him and his five-year-old son.



We married.  And that first winter, I introduced My new Kid to homemade chicken noodle soup on a cold rainy afternoon.  We laughed and unfolded noodles together and I let him stand on a chair to drop the noodles into the pot while I stirred, with flour surrounding us on the gray linoleum floor.  And then we slurped and giggled our way through our bowls of soup.  Chicken noodle soup became ours: our thing. 

Year after year, he stood taller besides the cutting board going through his various phases of yellow rubber boots, jack-a-lantern smile, and endlessly humming jazz riffs.  And no matter what was going on, even if we were mid disagreement, we would come together over a cutting board and make our soup.  With time, our recipe evolved and only the noodles stayed the same; far too wide and fluffy for My Pirate, but just right for us.

Our chicken noodle soup recipe


So, this weekend, in answer to My Kid’s request, I decided to write down the two chicken noodle soup recipes that reside in my mind and heart.  I started with my Mom’s simple recipe and remembered her smile and the shower of flour around me.  I’m so happy to have that piece of her still with me before the frigid chasm grew between us.  And then I made our version of the soup and remembered My Kid growing up beside the kitchen cutting board with me, chattering about life and giggling.  And now he’s grown and has his own career and life.  He’s the age that I was when his Dad proposed to me and he answered, “Yes, she says yes!” And when I see him tomorrow for our weekly family dinner, I’m going to hand him our recipe that shaped our life together.



Our Chicken Noodle Soup with Homemade Noodles
By Laura and Eben Heldreth

1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
½ onion, fine dice
Heart of the celery, including leaves, diced or two stalks, diced
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 gallon of homemade chicken stock or high quality store bought stock
2 tablespoons parsley, chopped
Kosher salt
Pepper
1 pinch of red cayenne powder
2 oven roasted chicken breasts, cut into cubes 
5 drops of lemon juice

Noodles
2 cups of flour
1 tablespoon kosher salt
4 large eggs


Add the oil and butter to the soup pot over medium heat.  Sweat carrots, onion, celery, and garlic with 2 teaspoons of kosher salt for 8 to 10 minutes.   Add chicken stock.  Bring to a boil and then drop to a simmer.  Cook for thirty minutes.

Make the noodles.
Combine the salt and flour in a bowl with a whisk. Make a well in the center of the flour.  Break eggs into a colored bowl and look for eggshell bits.  Put eggs into the flour well.  Stir together with a spoon or your hand.  Stir until it becomes a sticky dough.  Place dough on a lightly floured cutting board or counter.  Knead the dough adding flour as you go until the dough becomes smooth and dense.  Then let it rest for 15 minutes.

Cut your dough into four sections.  Roll them into balls and sit aside.  Roll out one ball of the dough at a time with a rolling pin using flour as needed.  Roll it out as thin as you can comfortably get it.  Add a little flour to the round and roll it up like a sleeping bag.  Then cut into slices, ¼ inch wide for company or ¾ inch wide for the big fluffy noodles.  Unroll the noodles and put them onto a plate or another cutting board.  Repeat with the rest of the dough balls.

Bring your soup back to a full boil and start dropping noodles into the soup pot, a few at a time, and stirring them to keep them from sticking together. Add all the noodles, add parsley and cubed chicken meat in, stir, and cook for 15 minutes or so. Taste and adjust seasonings.  Stir in the five drops of lemon juice. Serve. 

Thanks to Marcella


I have reached the point in my cold where I feel that stuffing a Kleenex up my nose and duct taping it in place is a viable option.  I’m feeling cranky and irritable and did I forget to mention?  Snotty.  This week, I convinced myself that I needed to decontaminate the crime scene and deep clean our house.  And while I was at it, I decided to make Marcella Hazan’s Ragu Bolognese Style Meat Sauce for the first time, for our family dinner.



Now before you think that I took an extra shot of Dayquil, I want you to understand that Marcella’s ragu requires 3 ½ to 5 hours to burble at the laziest simmer on your stovetop.  So, as I scrubbed the house, I would pause every so often and go stir the sauce.  And as the sauce tightened up, it perfumed the entire house.

When My Kid arrived for dinner, I tossed the fresh tagiatelle noodles (store bought) into the boiling water and dinner was served in five minutes. I dressed the noodles with sauce and spun them into tidy mounds in the bottom of our bowls.   And I served crostini and a romaine and arugula salad with April Bloomfield's Lemon Caper Dressing. And the bright acidic dressing on the salad contrasted brilliantly with the forkfuls of the Ragu dressed pasta.  The Ragu sauce tasted round and like love itself.  My guys closed their eyes and ate every morsel even though I over-served them. And we sat for a moment silently enjoying the stupor of our food coma before we delved into a lively conversation on education.    


And while my nose is still running, channeling my inner Italian Grandmother was just what I needed.  Taking simple humble ingredients and transmuting them into a fantastic meal to share with my favorite people is what cooking is all about.  I doubled the recipe so we have leftovers and I’m taking tomorrow night off from cooking.  Life is good.  


Ragu Meat Sauce, Bolognese Style
The Classic Italian Cookbook By Marcella Hazan

Serves 6

3 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons chopped yellow onion
2 tablespoons chopped celery
2 tablespoons chopped carrot
¾ pound ground lean beef, preferably chuck
salt
1 cup dry white wine—I used Columbia Crest Sauvignon Blanc
½ cup milk
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
2 cups canned Italian tomatoes, roughly chopped, with their juices

In a Dutch oven heat the butter and olive oil over medium heat.  Add the onion and sauté until it is translucent.  Then add the celery and carrot and cook for two minutes. 

Add the ground beef, and crumble it with a fork as it cooks.  Add 1 teaspoon of salt and cook until the meat is not longer red. 

Turn up the heat to medium high and add the wine.  Cook until the wine is evaporated.

Add the milk and nutmeg and turn the heat back down to medium.  Stir frequently.  Cook until the milk is evaporated. 

Stir in the tomatoes and bring to a simmer.  Then drop the heat down until it simmers very lazily.  I cooked mine on low.  Cook like this for 3 ½ to 4 hours, but 5 hours is best.  Stir every so often.  And taste.  Correct seasonings.  And serve.

Ragu freezes well.                                                                                
  

The Perfect Apple Cake


In the past eleven days, I have baked three apple cakes.  There, I’ve said it.  It’s off my chest.   I’ve been on a baking binge, but once you bake Teddie’s Apple Cake, you will completely understand.  This is a fun cake to bake and the results are flu defying.

The first time I baked it was the day before Thanksgiving.  My Pirate came home from Seattle, sick and I suspected the flu, behind those cold-like symptoms, when he collapsed into bed and then moaned for more Nyquil.  And yet he insisted that we have Thanksgiving with My Kid.  Well, I was confused about what to do because I didn’t want My Kid to get sick because he’s the music director at the Washington School for the Blind and he doesn’t have a good substitute teacher to replace him, yet.  So, I baked Food52’s Genius Recipe, Teddie’s Apple Cake, while I contemplated my options. 



I had all the ingredients on hand, it’s simple to throw together, and the results far exceed the effort put into baking it.  The delicious smell of it cooling on the kitchen counter roused My Pirate from his nap and he came into the kitchen. So I tried to plate the cake before it fully cooled.  Big mistake.  It fell apart in my hands and I laughed as I handed him a chunk.  He liked the crunchy crust contrasting with the moist spicy cake holding apples, rum soaked raisins and toasted walnuts so much that he asked for apple cake for dessert on Thanksgiving instead of apple pie.  And so I proceeded to bake another apple cake.  I cooled it overnight before I plated it and with the help of My Kid, poured a caramel glaze on it.  

At dinner on Tuesday with My Kid, while we were all nursing our colds and enjoying a bowl of soup, I admitted that I didn’t know what to bring to the potluck celebrating the last day of master gardener class.  My Kid suggested that I bring an apple cake, so I proceeded to bake my third apple cake.     

Now, what did I do with all the extra apple cake?  I shared it, which is the best part of baking.  And this year, on a whim, I handed it out to the local homeless.  And they all gave me the same response.  They took a huge bite, looked stunned and broke out into a huge smile and gave me an excited thumbs-up.  I’m telling you, you need to try this cake.  And if you have extra, don’t hesitate to share it with those around you asking for a handout.  It might just make them feel loved.  



Teddie's Apple Cake
published in the New York Times in 1973 and Amanda Hesser republished it in The Essential New York Times Cookbook in 2007
 

Serves 8

           
Butter for greasing pan
           
3
 cups flour, plus more for dusting pan
           
1 1/2
 cups vegetable oil
           
2
 cups sugar
           
3
 eggs
           
1
teaspoon salt
               
½ teaspoon fresh ground nutmeg—I chose to add nutmeg
           
1 
teaspoon cinnamon
           
1 
teaspoon baking soda
           
1 
teaspoon vanilla
           
3 
cups peeled, cored, and thickly sliced tart apples like Granny Smith
           
1
 cup chopped walnuts—I oven roasted mine first
           
1
 cup raisins—I soaked gold raisins and currants in rum first
           


Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour a 9-inch tube pan. Beat the oil and sugar together in a mixer (fitted with a paddle attachment) while assembling the remaining ingredients. After about 5 minutes, add the eggs and beat until the mixture is creamy.
Sift together 3 cups of flour, the salt, cinnamon and baking soda. Stir into the batter. Add the vanilla, apples, walnuts and raisins and stir until combined


Transfer the mixture to the prepared pan. Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Mine took five extra minutes.  Cool in the pan before lifting out. Serve at room temperature with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream, if desired.
 

Here's the link to the caramel icing recipe that Food52.com suggested using.  It's delicious.




Living Under a Douglas Fir Tree




We live in the shade of a large Douglas Fir tree,  Pseudotsuga menziesii, that houses squirrels, crows, insects, and a family of four raccoons.  I love this tree.  I enjoy listening to it’s branches blowing in the breeze and the shelter that it provides.  Our tree showers down fresh crunchy fir cones and needles to adorn the garden like sprinkles on a cupcake.  It's nearly impossible to take a picture in our yard without a part of the tree in it.



Acanthus leaf with fir needles



hardy banana leaf, Musa basjoo, with fir needles






Splat!




The Douglas Fir needles even clog up my copper rain chain.




And I found tiny mushrooms growing in the bark of the Douglas Fir tree.  Aren't they pretty?




Garden Details and My New Camera


My Pirate gave me a new Canon Rebel camera last week.  And I’ve been out taking pictures, whenever the rainstorms pause, with a huge grin plastered across my face like a five year old at Disneyland.  

My new camera is able to capture details like this stink bug, Banasa dimiata. It patiently posed on a castor bean blossom until I captured just the right shot. 

Banasa dimiata on a castor bean blossom

My November garden is a counterpoint of beautiful foliage and dead leaves.  The Spike Winter Hazel, Corylopsis spicata, is putting on a beautiful show.

Corylopsis Spicata


The dead hosta leaves are interesting to look at.




A cascara tree leaf, Rhamnus purshiana.     
                                                            


This snowberry, Symphoricarpos albust, is going to take a trip to the compost heap next spring.



I came across this leaf composition resting on top of an Acanthus leaf.




The kousa dogwood is one of my favorite trees with it's three seasons of interest.  



Right now, my young tall stewartia tree, Stewartia monadelpha, is my favorite tree, even though the sun burned it's leaves this August. I might need to move it to a shadier spot.



The rugosa roses reached over seven feet tall this year and now the foliage is turning gold.



This summer I added Japanese forest grass, Hakonechloa macro 'Aureola', seed heads to many of my bouquets.  



And ostrich fern fronds that died in the drought.



And Japanese anemone seed heads.



And even branches of the twenty four year old japanese maple that is a foundation planting in our neighborhood.


Only two more days until December and the hardy banana is still pushing out a new leaf.



The chocolate cosmos are still blooming up a storm.










And so are the hardy fuschias. 





Frost, where are you?