Sunny Day Salad

Today was a day where my two loves of sunny, warm weather and good food collided. Whenever these two things happen simultaneously, I have a hard time expressing my happiness and excitement of what is occurring in the moment. I'm either so engrossed in the moment that I can't speak, or you can't shut me up since I keep repeating how amazing the weather is and how delicious the food tastes. My mantra usually consists of phrases like "I live for this..." or "Where else would you rather be?" or "Could you ask for anything more right now? No!" over and over again. My friends have learned to smile and nod, but I have to say most of the time they agree.

Today was one of the warmest days we've had recently, and it convinced me that spring, even summer!, is truly on the horizon. The morning was cloudy, but the afternoon sun came out just in time for lunch. I crouched down and stuck my hand in the fridge hoping to scrummage around for something decent enough to call lunch. An almost empty bag of spinach...the last of a bunch of kale...a red pepper...some grated carrots...oh! watercress! Things were looking up.

I started adding things to a large salad bowl, looking forward to the fresh tastes in my future. I knew though that I would need something more to really round out the meal, and remembered that there were some leftover roasted veggies from last night's dinner still in the fridge. Baby yukon and red potatoes, parsnips, and carrots, all roasted to crisp-on-the-outside-soft-and-smooth-on-the-inside perfection with hints of fresh thyme and rosemary. After a quick reheat in the toaster-oven they were tossed in the bowl as well, with their heat slightly wilting the greens.

I could barely resist eating the whole thing at the counter with my fingers. I restrained myself though, knowing that a salad of this stature deserved a worthy vinaigrette. I quickly whisked together my favorite dressing to make, mustard based of course, and perked it up with freshly chopped thyme - again, left over from the night before. It always fascinates me how oddly satisfying it is to efficiently use leftovers.

One final toss in the bowl after the vinaigrette drizzle and I hustled to the patio. I sat down and felt the warm sun on my shoulders. Ahh, oh so nice. For some reason I always close my eyes when warm sun first hits me...maybe my body's convinced that it feels even warmer that way. When I opened my eyes I looked down to my lunch and the same sunlight was perfectly highlighting every bursting color in my bowl. I'm pretty sure I started talking to the bowl at this point..."You are stunning!" I of course ran back into the house to grab my camera. Looking back, maybe it was a good thing I was alone.

My first few bites were even more satisfying than I anticipated. Flavors were pronounced and mingling perfectly; the spiciness of the dijon in the background of the dressing against the peppery watercress, the woodsy thyme with the hearty greens, the raw refreshment of the peppers and carrots balancing the savory cooked root veggies. This is the only way to enjoy food, I thought. No distractions, no rushing, a peaceful setting where you are actually able to taste every part of what youre eating, and realize why it tastes the way it does and why youre enjoying it so much. Of course, we all don't have sunny patios available for us at every meal we eat. But, I do believe making a moment free of 'world static' dedicated to enjoying your food makes a world of a difference. We all have to eat, so why not give food the same attention we give to other life essentials? After all, if you respect your food, it will respect you back.

Here is the recipe for the vinaigrette, so you can enjoy a similar experience on your next sunny lunch.

1 1/2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1 tablespoon dijon mustard

1 teaspoon honey

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

Whisk all ingredients except oil together in a bowl. Then slowly pour the oil into the bowl, vigorously whisking at the same time so the vinaigrette emulsifies and combines evenly.

Roasted Red Peppers

I recently wrote this article for the website Local In Season. It's a great organization that I will be continuing to write for, so be sure to check it out! My first write up for them, 'The Good Cheese', is also on there too.

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Roasted Red Peppers

An unexpected gathering; a stormy New England day; the looming question of ‘What’s for dinner?’ after a long day at work; a sudden surge of hunger that cannot be ignored...we’ve all been there. We’ve all had those days when we need to whip up something fast without major planning or a trip to the grocery store. Although these situations can quickly turn into culinary nightmares, the solution starts within the walls of your kitchen. If I’ve learned anything about managing my own kitchen at home, one resurfacing truth has always been this: a well stocked pantry means a well prepared cook. No matter the source of pressure, it is aways comforting to know that our favorite backbone ingredients will be there for us upon opening the cabinet doors in times of need.

I can tell you a few of my own pantry staples that I know are sitting there right at this moment: chicken stock, canned tomatoes, black beans, bread crumbs, jarred salsa...the eclectic list could go on. When I’m pressed for time, they pull through tremendously, and I am very thankful for that. But for the sake of time and convenience, flavor and quality are often sacrificed.The other afternoon this pantry characteristic came to my attention upon opening a jar of roasted red peppers. Being a lover of the uniquely sweet flavor of red bell peppers, I was disappointed by the bitter, preservative aftertaste with every bite. Even the peppers themselves seem ashamed of their lackluster and subpar qualities with their limp texture and color. I reluctantly added them to my sandwich.

Sure, they did fine in a pinch, but was this really the best I was going to get every time I wanted a roasted red pepper at home without paying an arm and a leg for them at a store or restaurant? I certainly hoped not! That’s when I learned the art of roasting peppers at home, and boy I will tell you, it’s hard to ever go back. The texture is fantastic, the flavor unbeatable, and they are without a doubt worth the extra ‘effort’ in the kitchen. I say effort loosely here, since roasting your own peppers at home is as easy as turning on your broiler. And, in my opinion, any recipe that asks you to deeply char your food is not something to pass up. With this newfound culinary technique, you will be able to call upon it for future peppers and beyond, just as you call upon your pantry to find your go-to, reliable ingredients. Because a well prepared cook doesn’t always just have her staple ingredients at her back, but her best culinary tricks too.

Once you get a hang of the technique, make sure to try bell peppers of all colors. Red, yellow, orange, green...even poblano or anaheim peppers too!

Ingredients

2-4 Red Bell Peppers

Method

Move your oven rack to the highest position, with enough room left between it and the top of the oven to fit a sheet pan covered in bell peppers. Preheat the broiler to high.

Wash the peppers and completely dry them with paper towels. Slice each pepper in half lengthwise. Remove the stem, core, and any white ribs inside.

Place each pepper-half cut-side down on a sheet pan lined with tin foil. Place the pan in the

oven on set rack and broil for anywhere from 8-12 minutes (depending on the strength of your broiler), or until the peppers’ skins are deeply charred and blistered. You may need to rotate the pan half way through to promote even charring.

Take the sheet pan out from under the broiler. Carefully remove the hot, blackened pepper halves from the pan and place in them in a large bowl. Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap (make sure the seal is secure) and let steam, undisturbed, for at least 15 minutes. (Alternatively, you can use a ziploc bag with a sturdy, fully sealable zip-top to steam the peppers) Remove the plastic wrap from the bowl. Peel off and discard the charred skins from each pepper half. The skin should separate from the flesh with ease.

They will be ready for you to slice, add to a recipe, or just plain eat, right then and there! Add to salads and sandwiches, homemade hummus or quesadillas, or wow your guests by adding them to an antipasto platter. The sky’s the limit.

Love, Loss, and What I Ate

A few weekends ago, seven McCarron women (3 aunties and 2 cousins by car, 1 cousin by train, and 1 surprise cousin by plane!) took a road trip to the Big Apple, where another cousin - the sole male - awaited us in the heart of Queens. Once in the car with the trip officially underway, the already coined phrase surfaced describing whenever a group of McCarron women were all gathered in once place: "Hold on to your hats!" But, as Gigi was informing (warning?) Johnny of our ETA, a newly coined, next generation version of the phrase manifested: "Hold on to your hats! ...And maybe pop some valium..."

Needless to say we were excited and enthusiastic about our weekend ahead, full of fun, laughs, sightseeing, and...of course...eating.

On the first night there we all went to see a show called "Love, Loss, and What I Wore". It was a unique portrayal of a woman's life narrated by 5 actresses seated in chairs at the front of the stage. Very simple, yet very effective. The storyline revolved around the protagonist's life trials and tribulations of being a woman. Each story was associated with some article of clothing she had owned, and the memories and feelings that surfaced when she thought about such clothes.

As I was sitting there hearing these narratives, I thought about how I would write my own story if I was up there at center stage. Hmm...uhh... My mind strained to crank through my memory files. Being one of the more lackluster 'fashionistas' I know, I could only recall a handful of memories that were sparked by references to clothes. My ballet costume when I hit my head on the bar during the recital? The green corduroys that split right down the seam between the butt pockets during a classroom play in kindergarten? (I was dressed as a bottle of ginger ale). Although classics, clothes memories like these were few and far between.

Then I thought of the pages in my journal. If someone were to ever come upon it wanting to uncover juicy details about my life, relationships, deep dark secrets...theyd be in no such luck. All of the juiciness they would really get would be about moist roasted pork. The relationships would be about attachment with vats of peach jam, and the deep dark secrets would reveal ingredients and methods of recipes I would only share with a piece of paper.

The same theory could be applied to my camera. You can scroll through a series of photos of a trip to Italy expecting to see monuments and art pieces from thousands of years ago, only to be presented with photos of carts of fruits and vegetables and plates of antipasti. That's when I realized, sitting there in my chair in the audience of a broadway theater, that my life story wouldnt be told through what hung in my closet, but what was served on my plate.

So here are a few of the many photos taken during our three wonderful days in NYC. Perfect weather, great walks, and delicious bites. ( And no valium necessary :c) )

Cheese walrus.

Cupcakes at 10:30AM are that much more tasty.

Bologna disguised as salami...Balami.

Mmm with grainy mustard who cares whats in the inside of your sandwich.

Honey roasted peanuts and fresh pretzels in Central Park. Important fuel for power walking.

A second trip to Billy's was a must.

My barbie cake to Tori was almost identical...ha!

All cake and frosting, I swear.

For Molly. (I'll be cookie monster)

Overwhelmed by smells and choices.

The BEST blue cheese from Chelsea Market.

Cornmeal, golden raisins, fennel seed...amazing flavor combination all rolled into a fresh loaf.

Pumpernickel baguette, why dont you exist more often?

A spreadable treat and a handy 15 lb dumbbell all in one. Thanks Nutella!

The Good Cheese

Cheese has always held a special place in my heart. Ever since I was barely tall enough to sneak handfuls of cheese from my Mom’s cutting board at the kitchen counter, I have been a true fanatic. It’s salty, it’s savory, it’s just plain delicious. Not only have I always loved the taste of cheese, but the world of cheese has always fascinated me as well. The styles, flavors, and applications seem utterly infinite. Cave aged? Smoked? Fresco? With a layer of ash? How does one begin to choose? It seems to me though, that in the grand scheme of things, cheese mainly falls into one of two categories: there's cheese, and then there is good cheese. Let me explain.

On the one hand, there’s cheese I put in everyday foods - in a sandwich for lunch, mixed into a salad, on top of weeknight pasta – and it does its job just fine. It lends some salty unctuousness to the dish, and that's about as far as it stretches for the palate.

But then…there's the latter. The Good Cheese. Cheese that deserves much more individual attention. This is the cheese I set out for on specific trips to specialty stores. Cheese I buy after tasting and talking about it with the cheesemonger across the counter for at least 10 minutes. Cheese that deserves its own uninterrupted moments of savoring…moments of experiencing each flavor and texture profile as it slowly dissipates in my mouth. It's the kind of cheese that often puts our hum-drum everyday cheese to shame, and it makes me wonder why I sometimes even bother with anything less. 



On the wings of one of those afternoons dedicated to Good Cheese finding and eating, I realized that I wanted to learn more about the process of cheese-making. What was it exactly that made these specialty dairy treats so utterly delicious? I had encountered the prospect of making your own cheese at home amongst a few of my food books before, and I finally decided to turn a lingering interest into a reality.

After a few sessions of reading and recipe research, I found a cheese and method that seemed almost too simple to be true, and therefore fit my beginner standards perfectly: Ricotta. It only required two ingredients (whole milk and buttermilk), minimal equipment (a soup pot, thermometer, colander, and cheese cloth), and really only involved two steps (heating and draining). Needless to say I was all for it, and within no time my own first batch of creamy, light, refreshing ricotta was staring back at me from my counter top. It was easy, relatively quick, and the results were delectable. And I could thank myself for it! Now I could experience Good Cheese moments without ever leaving my kitchen. Homemade, economical, and delicious? Now that’s what I call Good Cheese.



Serve salted for savory dishes – lasagnas, stuffed pastas, as a pizza topping… - or dress it up with honey or sugar for sweet pairings with fruit or any other dessert. I like mine more moist than dry, so I only drain the curds for the minimum 15 minutes.

Homemade Ricotta Cheese

Ingredients

1 gallon good-quality whole milk


1 quart good-quality buttermilk (note: Kate's Real Buttermilk is a great option, fresh from Maine)

Method

Combine both milks into a large nonreactive saucepan over medium high heat, preferably a thick-bottomed pan if you have one. You will need to stir occasionally, scraping the pan bottom, to avoid scorching. Once the milk is hot, stop stirring. You will start to see curds rise and come to the surface. Run a spoon or spatula along the bottom of the pan occasionally to free up any stuck curds.

While the milk is heating, select a sieve or colander with a wide surface area. This will help your curds cook more quickly. Line the colander with a large piece of cheesecloth that has been folded numerous times - until you have about 5 or six layers. Place the lined colander over a large bowl or sink.

When the mixture reaches about 175 F˚, you will see the curds and whey separate. The curds are the clumpy white mass. Now, remove the pan from heat, and gently begin to ladle curds into the prepared sieve. Pull up on the sides of the cheesecloth to drain off any extra liquid, but resist pressing on the curds. Gather the edges of the cloth, tie or fasten them into a knot and allow them to drain for another 15 minutes minimum. Move to an airtight container and refrigerate if you aren't going to use it immediately. Try to use or eat it within a few days, it really is best that way.

Makes about 4 cups.

Recipe adapted from 101cookbooks.com

Filling the Cookie Jar

-- Take 14 sticks of butter, dozens of eggs, bags of sugar and flour, the occasional coconut flake, chocolate chip, dried cranberry or pistachio…

-- Combine with a free afternoon in a kitchen full of heated ovens, Christmas carols, and three generations of women from the same family

-- Mix, shake, stir, whip, blend, toss

-- Serve with plenty of belly laughs and glasses of chardonnay


Last weekend this recipe was put into full effect, and the results deemed itself worthy of a place in our ultimate recipe archives. Inspired by an article in the Boston Sunday Globe on the Joy of baking holiday cookies, my Gramma, Aunt Robin, cousin Julia, sister Sandra, and I set out on our own mission to find the Joy of Baking using both recipes from the article as well as our own family favorites.








Multiple hours, sugar over-doses, and sheets of parchment paper later, over 300 Christmas cookies were staring back at us from the kitchen table. We were left with tired feet, a hankering for something salty, shoeboxes of sweets, and most importantly, a great memory and plenty of reasons to make this an annual Butler women holiday event. Although not as tasty or satisfying, here are a few pictures of our creations. But just in case, you may need to grab a glass of milk.











































A woman who knows the importance of quality control of ingredients.








Thumbprint Jam cookies. We started with raspberry jam, then thought to add a few with orange marmalade. Then, heck, why not make some with both! A classic buttery cookie with a satisfyingly sweet and fruity center.


Buon Natale! These italian inspired cookies (biscotti) were studded with pistachios, dried cranberries, and fresh orange zest. Not only festive looking, but with a heavenly sent scent! Shown in the pre-slice stage.



Nothing says the holidays like a nice block of peppermint bark. Chop it up and it's the perfect chocolate chip substitute. Pair it with the perfectly chocolatey cookie, and it is the perfect minty decadence!


Would you not know where to turn if you had to choose between an oatmeal cookie and a slice of carrot cake? Look no further! These oatmeal cookies are studded with raisins and shredded carrots that add great moisture and texture, and still obtains all of the warm spices of both treats. Phew! Crisis avoided.


A Gramma staple: There have been many a dessert platter with these goodies on them, and they never last long enough to become acquainted with any other accompanying treats. I was lucky enough to snag a picture of these Toffee Bars; crunchy, buttery crust, smooth chocolate topping, with a nutty walnut finish. The woman works wonders!


Simplicity is what makes these Date Balls so appealing. That, and the sweet dates, crunchy rice crispies, and tropical coconut...And maybe there's some butter in there too. Once you pop one you can't stop!


The smell wafting from your oven while baking these chocolate macaroons will have your knees buckling. The melted bittersweet chocolate added to the batter gives them that deep, rich, real chocolatey flavor you crave, all in a light macaroon cookie flighted with shredded coconut.



These almond florentines tested our limits and worked our brains. Dangerously thin but oh-so-satisfyingly crisp. The secret combination of almond and orange flavors cuts through the sweetness beautifully and the cookies with deeper caramelized edges quickly become coveted treasures.




Best served with ones you love.