A Merry Whirlwind

As Cathy used to say so eloquently, “ACK!”  This week has turned into a whirlwind of activity.  Most of it is fun stuff—a birthday party, lots of baking, some biking and running outside in this mild Texas December weather.  Last night I made thumbprint cookies, and tonight I have a birthday cake cooling its heels on my counter.  Tomorrow the cake will get a generous slathering of cream cheese frosting, and we’ll take a trip over to my friend’s place to celebrate the start of a new year in her life.  Man, I do love birthdays!

It’s already 10 PM as I sit here typing, so I think this post will have to be a shortie.  I do have a recommendation, one that I think works well in the kitchen.  I bought myself a little birthday present, or an early Christmas present—whatever you want to call it.  It’s the CD I had on my wish list, Iron & Wine’s Around the Well, and it is so good.  I’m not sure how I missed this when I was listening to the CD samples on Amazon, but this album is a two-CD set, which is even better—twice the musical joy!  I’ve been listening to it every day since it arrived, and it’s an especially good album for kitchen time.  It just puts me in the mood to cook.

I’m off to bed now.  Happy merrymaking to you!  Let me know if you want me to send you some of this Texas warmth—I’ve got extra this week.  For my part, I’m looking forward to some wintry weather in the Mitten next week.

When India Comes to Texas

Of all the cuisines that Asia has given us, Indian food is by far my favorite.  I don’t think I’ve ever had Indian food that didn’t make me want to stuff myself silly with it.  Everything about it appeals to me: the incredible spice combinations, the variety of legumes, the vegetables, the rice and the naan, the paneer and the ghee.  Even the desserts are marvelous, though I must confess that I remain unflinchingly loyal to one dessert in particular, a cardamom-pistachio ice cream that I had several times at Hema’s Kitchen, an Indian restaurant in Chicago.

You can imagine my delight in knowing that my closest College Station friend is Indian and a fantastic cook.  I’ve been spending a lot of time with Amutha, and I’ve had the pleasure of eating with her countless times.  I’ve cooked for her, and she’s cooked for me, but until last Friday, we’d never cooked together.  It was my suggestion.  She found me in the hallway on Friday afternoon and wanted to hang out that evening, and I immediately thought of dinner, because food is always on my mind.  I wasn’t really in the mood to go out; I wanted to cook at home.  We agreed, and later that evening, Amutha made a dish that I’m starting to think of as her signature, a channa masala of sorts.  Of course, like a good Indian cook, the recipe is in her head, so this would be my approximation.

Amutha’s Channa Masala

Ingredients list:

Neutral-tasting oil, such as canola or a mild olive oil

Mustard seeds

Chili flakes

Ground cumin

Other magic Indian spices

Sea salt

Garlic, finely chopped

A small onion, finely chopped

A couple tomatoes, finely chopped

A can of chickpeas (preferably Bush’s—they have the best texture), NOT DRAINED

Instructions:

In a skillet, fry the mustard seeds and chili flakes in oil for a while, until the mustard seeds pop.  Add ground cumin and other magic Indian spices along with sea salt, garlic, and onion.  Fry…for a while.  Add the tomatoes and let everything cook together to make a rich, fragrant sauce of sorts.  Add the chickpeas (along with their can broth), and cook…for a while.  At the end, you’ll have a delicious dish of chickpeas in this rich, spicy sauce.

Easy, right?  I am dying for a real recipe, or at least the chance to watch Amutha make her channa masala so I can take notes.  The above is cobbled together from what I remember on Friday night.  Amutha made this beautiful mise en place with her onion, tomatoes, and garlic, and she raided my spice rack, which I highly encourage all my kitchen guests to do.  But that’s where my memory becomes more of an imagined story than a real one.  Magic Indian spices?  Cooking times?  Yeah, I don’t know.  We’re both going to have to wait for this recipe.

In the meantime, I cooked a different Indian recipe, this time from a real, in-print recipe, and it was wonderful.  It had been on my to-cook list for a while because it looked easy and delicious, and it serves two, and I am always on the look-out for recipes that won’t force me to eat the leftovers for a week.  Vegetarian Times published this recipe for Vegetables Korma, which strikes me as a twist on Amutha’s channa masala.  The chickpeas are there, along with the tomato-onion sauce.  Vegetables Korma adds a good helping of additional vegetables, and, to make it ridiculously easy on you, this recipe calls for frozen vegetables.  Frozen!  It’s brilliant.  Now, let me be clear: I like fresh vegetables as much as anyone else does, but frozen vegetables can be a lifesaver.  They’re a speedy, easy, healthy option, and unlike fresh vegetables, they are patient.  They will wait until you need them, or if you’re going out of town like I am in a week, you can stock the freezer with a bag or two of frozen vegetables and feel confident that you’ll have some ingredient options when you return.  I like frozen vegetables.  These days, you can get super high-quality organic stuff to keep on hand in the freezer, and if that’s not good news, I don’t know what is.  Except maybe an Indian recipe that serves two and comes together in about fifteen minutes.

Back to the recipe at hand.  The sauce is a quick food-processor job, and from there, it’s mostly a matter of measure-and-simmer.  I made a batch of my favorite rice to serve with the Vegetables Korma.  The final dish is good, classic Indian food: rich with heat and layers of flavor, a medley of vegetables and chickpeas, and a bed of rice to soak up the sauce (and provide something bland to balance that heat!).  This one is going in my file of “What to Cook When Time is Short and Bellies are Grumbling.”

Vegetables Korma

Adapted slightly from Vegetarian Times (February 2010)

Serves 2 (perhaps with a tiny bit left over)

Be forewarned: if you add the pinch of chili flakes, you are in store for some heat!  This dish teeters on the edge of my tolerance for heat, but I sort of love it for that reason.  I may try a version without the extra chili flakes; for now, I’ll list them as optional.

2 medium tomatoes or 4 small ones, cut into chunks

1/2 small white onion, cut into chunks

1 tbsp. fresh ginger, peeled and chopped

1 tbsp. neutral-tasting oil (I used Mezzetta olive oil)

1/2 tsp. garam masala

1/4 + 1/8 tsp. ground cardamom

Pinch of red chili flakes, optional

2 cups frozen mixed vegetables

3/4 cup cooked chickpeas

3 tbsp. heavy cream

Salt and pepper to taste

1 tbsp. toasted sliced almonds

Cooked rice, for serving

1)  In a food processor, buzz the tomatoes, onions, and ginger together until everything is pureed.  Set aside.

2)  In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium heat.  Add the garam masala, cardamom, and chili flakes if using, and fry for about 30 seconds or until fragrant, stirring constantly.  Add the tomato puree.  Simmer for 2-3 minutes to let the sauce thicken slightly.

3)  Add the frozen vegetables, chickpeas, and heavy cream.  Season liberally with salt and pepper, then cover the skillet and simmer for 7-8 minutes, until the vegetables are tender.  Remove the lid.  Let everything simmer for another minute or two to thicken the sauce (mine was a little watery here) if you like.

4)  Serve over rice and scatter the toasted almonds on top.  If you cook this just for yourself, you’ll get to enjoy fabulous leftovers the next day!  If not, consider doubling the recipe—it’s a good one. 

Special Edition: Sweet Potatoes

What I’m about to say is heresy, but I can’t help how I feel.  I don’t like sweet potatoes very much.  I find them confusing.  They’re potatoes, so I expect them to behave like potatoes.  I expect them to be savory and satisfying, happy to be tossed in the oven for a hot roasting or simmered into a soup.  What I don’t expect, and can’t seem to enjoy most of the time, is their sweetness.  Yes, I know—the name should tip me off, right?—but I just don’t like them in the vast majority of recipes that are out there. 

But the truth is, I want to like sweet potatoes.  I really do.  They’re a delightful vegetable, comfortingly starchy, a pretty orange on the inside, and they even come in petite sizes at my beloved Brazos Natural Foods.  Here in the States, sweet potatoes are Thanksgiving and wintertime and coziness all rolled up into a humble root vegetable.  As an American, it’s practically unpatriotic of me not to like sweets.  And don’t they just have the best nickname?  I want someone to start calling me sweets.

As luck would have it, I have found an answer to my sweet potato dilemma, in the form of an awesome salad, adapted from Deb’s recipe for Sweet Potatoes with Pecans and Goat Cheese.  It really was lucky because I don’t read Smitten Kitchen too often any more.  I suppose I poke around Deb’s blog maybe once a month or once every couple of months.  But recently, I happened to be at the right place at the right time, and I was captivated by the idea of roasting sweet potatoes in fat rounds or “steaks,” as Deb calls them, until they start to char and blister against the metallic heat of a baking sheet.  I thought that deep, dark roasting step would add something special to the sweets, something to contrast the sweetness and add depth to their flavor.  Indeed, those roasted steaks of sweet potato teeter on just this side of burnt, but they are perfect.  The rest of the recipe really steps up the savory quality of the dish: crispy celery, a fresh green herb, a handful of minced onion, and my favorite part, cubes of smoked cheddar, all tossed in a very mild vinaigrette, just enough to moisten things.  It’s a wonderful combination of contrasts, flavors and textures, sweet and smoky and crunchy and just flat-out delicious.  I really like it, and I think you might, too.

Celery and Sweet Potato Salad

Adapted from this Smitten Kitchen recipe

Serves 2

A quick note: do you have a pair of kitchen tongs yet?  If not, ask Santa to bring you some!  I bought myself some tongs not too long ago, and I love them.  They are perfect for flipping over the sweet potato “steaks” in this recipe.

2-3 small or medium-sized sweet potatoes

3 tbsp. olive oil, divided

2 tsp. red wine vinegar

1/2 tsp. Dijon mustard

Salt and pepper to taste

2 stalks celery, chopped

3 tbsp. minced onion

1 sprig of fresh dill, finely chopped

4 big handfuls of fresh baby spinach

2 ounces smoked cheddar cheese, diced

1/4 cup pecans, chopped, toasted, and cooled

1)  To roast the sweet potatoes, preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.  Drizzle a small baking sheet with 1 tbsp. olive oil, or drizzle the oil on a small part of a larger baking sheet.  While the oven is preheating, prep the sweet potatoes by chopping them into roughly 3/4-inch coins.  (If any of the peel is particularly gnarly, take that off first with a vegetable peeler.)  Place the sweets on the oiled part of the baking sheet—I like to rub them into the oil a little bit, just to make sure they have some oil on their bottoms.  Pop the sweets into the oven and roast them for 15-20 minutes, then flip them over (with tongs!) and roast for another 10 minutes, until both sides are almost a bit charred.  I use a fork to make sure the potatoes are tender all the way through.

2)  While the sweets are going, make the vinaigrette.  Whisk together 2 tbsp. olive oil, the vinegar, the mustard, and a good pinch of salt.

3)  In a medium-sized bowl, toss together the celery, onion, and dill.  Add a spoonful or two of the vinaigrette and toss again.  (You’ll have some leftover vinaigrette, but I just see this as an excuse to make this salad again!)

4)  Plate the spinach on two plates (two big handfuls per plate).  Divide the celery mixture between the two plates, then top it with the sweet potatoes.  Divide the cheddar cubes and the pecans between the two plates and serve.  The leftovers from this salad are fantastic the next day.  I just make the salad, minus the spinach and pecans, and tuck it in a tightly sealed bowl, one that can accompany me to work.  You can pack the spinach and pecans separately and then add them when it’s time to eat.

A Little Unexpected

I consider it a great success when I find a new recipe that I can slip into my weeknight rotation.  Weeknights are hard!  So much to do, so little time to do it.  I rely pretty heavily on leftovers to help me get through the work week with a full belly, particularly for my lunches, but for dinners, I like to cook something new and exciting at least twice a week.  It always gives me a good feeling to cook something fresh on the days between Monday and Friday, Iike I’m being extra caring to myself and my taste buds.

I’ve been doing really well with my weeknight cooking as of late, in part because all I want to do is burrow into the kitchen and cook, bake, cook, bake.  It’s the most wonderful time of the year, right?  The kitchen is cozy and well-stocked, the nights are long, and the season’s brightness comes out of a skillet or the oven.  It feels natural to roast vegetables, make soup stock, roll pie crusts, and bake cakes.  With darkness settling over us early in the evenings, I don’t feel pulled outside by the light the way I do in the spring.  Right now, the kitchen is where I want to be.

Today’s recipe is a comforting version of beans and toast, with a delicious and Greek-inspired twist,  I really liked this recipe I made back in September, and I was curious to see if I could make a new dish by swapping some of the ingredients.  Out went the zucchini, fresh sage, and big tomatoes.  In came fresh mint, dried sage, cherry tomatoes, and feta cheese.  I altered the cooking protocol a little bit, too, adding the cherry tomatoes to the sizzling onions and letting them grow warm and juicy until they collapse and mingle their tomato-ness with the onions and garlic.  I added the mint at the end to keep its flavor fresh and sprightly, an almost unexpected hint of spring and fresh green things.  And the feta just came naturally: tomatoes + onions + mint = Greek to me, so feta seemed like it belonged on top.

When piled onto thick-cut slices of buttered toast, this quick dinner is satisfying and delicious, neither light nor heavy in the belly, a little unexpected.  It deserves a nice little side salad, maybe something with spinach and oranges like this one, or maybe a grated carrot salad spiked with lemon and parsley.  I think I’ll be making this one all winter long.

White Beans with Onions, Cherry Tomatoes, and a Greek Twist

Adapted from this recipe

Serves 2

I forgot to tell you the thing that got me so excited about this recipe in the first place: the wine!  After that terrible evening with the leeks, I felt the need to cook something with wine that I would actually want to eat.  My long-term goal is to be able to cook with wine without consulting a recipe at all, and the only way to get there is to keep the wine bottle out and to keep cooking.  So that’s what I’m doing.

In this recipe, the wine is subtle—just two tablespoons—but I think it adds an extra layer of flavor, a subtle fruity-sour depth.  Matt and I had an illuminating conversation during his last visit that made me realize wine is a really strong ingredient.  With wine, it’s not a bad idea to use a light hand and then see how the dish turns out.  For example, last winter I made a vegetarian version of kickpleat’s (and Gourmet’s) Chicken Thighs in Riesling.  My version was pretty similar to the original, except that I used from-scratch white beans instead of chicken thighs.  The “White Beans in Riesling” was pretty good, but I’d like to try again, this time using less wine (maybe 1/3 cup?).  The flavor of the Riesling was nice, but I found that it overwhelmed the other ingredients a bit.

But that is for another day!  For today, we’ve got a simpler white bean dish for weeknight cooking.  Enjoy.

1 tbsp. olive oil

1 onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1/4 tsp. dried sage

Salt and pepper to taste

2 tbsp. dry white wine, such as a Chardonnay, divided

1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes, halved

1 16-oz. can white beans, drained and rinsed

4-5 smallish leaves of fresh mint, chopped

1/4 cup feta cheese crumbles

4 slices of thick-cut bread, toasted and buttered (for serving)

1)  Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.  Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes until the onion is soft.

2)  Add the garlic, sage, and some salt and pepper.  Cook for 30 seconds or so, then add 1 tbsp. white wine.  It should sizzle and bubble a bit.  Add the tomatoes and the remaining tbsp. of wine, then immediately cover, turn the heat down to medium, and let everything cook for 3-5 minutes.

3)  By this time, the tomatoes should have started breaking down into the onion-garlic mixture.  Add the white beans, stir everything around, and let them heat up for a minute or so.  Turn off the heat, add the mint, and season to taste with salt and pepper.

4)  Place the buttered toast on two plates, then add a big scoop or two of the white bean mixture.  Divide the feta between the two plates and serve immediately, perhaps with glasses of the Chardonnay you used in this dish?  I recommend you eat this dish with a knife and fork.

Marvelous, Relaxing

I find myself inspired by this interesting New York Times article about procrastinating pleasure.  What an odd thing we humans do, putting off our pleasure until tomorrow, or next week, or next year.  Don’t we all know that life is short?  And that when pleasure lands like a butterfly on your arm, you shouldn’t shoo it away until a more convenient time?  You should stop whatever you are doing and give pleasure your undivided attention.  Because if you blink, if you wait too long, it will flutter away and you’ll be left feeling vaguely melancholic that you just missed something magical.

I didn’t realize how starved for time I’ve been until this long weekend landed on me like a butterfly.  Even though I was recovering from being sick, I still had a marvelous, relaxing weekend.  I took every opportunity to indulge myself, and tonight I am feeling much restored.  Here were the high points of my recovery plan:

* I lavished attention on my apartment, which has suffered the brunt of my time-starved condition.  I organized and bagged the recycling, did two loads of laundry, vacuumed, and washed lots of dishes.  Perhaps housework doesn’t sound like a pleasure, but when it’s finally done, after weeks of feeling guilty for not doing enough, the relief is incredible.  Also, relaxing in a clean, organized space feels luxurious.

* My pretty new bag and I hopped on my purple bike and rode around town.  This messenger bag is a birthday gift from my little brother and sister, who very wisely consulted my wish list for ideas.  The bag is great for running errands by bike.  On Saturday, I tucked two big books in there, along with my purse and some cloth grocery bags, and I made the rounds, returning the books to the library and buying groceries on the way back.  It’s so much easier to cycle with a big messenger bag to hold all my stuff!

* I ate quiche leftovers and did not feel guilty over one single bite of butter-loaded crust.  I did eat lots of vegetables alongside my quiche, but I loved eating decadently for a few days—for Thanksgiving, for my birthday, and just because I could.

* I drank mint mochas while sitting on the couch, crunching data.  Okay, yes, I was working, but being able to work from home was great.  In my defense, I didn’t spend too much time working, but over the course of three days, I did make a good dent in my mountain of data, for which I am grateful now.

* I took long walks—one on a chilly afternoon wearing scarf and gloves and chatting with a friend, another on a warmer afternoon, by myself around the neighborhood.  Both were lovely.

* I ate rum raisin ice cream while watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.  The combination made for a lovely evening.

* I dusted off an old recipe and roasted a butternut squash.  I love the recipe in concept: hack a squash into big pieces, clean out the seeds and gunk, then gussy it up with butter, tamari, sweetener, paprika, and some black pepper.  The whole thing gets covered in foil and baked, then at the end, the heat is raised and everything gets browned and a little toasty.  The problem is twofold: one is that the squash tasted a little watery to me—perhaps a result of the foil trapping moisture and steaming the squash?  The other problem, which is far more tragic, is that all the goodies—the butter and whatnot, drip off the squash and burn in the pan!  So sad.  Now, I turn to you for help, dear readers: do you have a good baked or roasted squash recipe, one that you love and trust?  Is it possible to add butter and such before the oven treatment, or should they be added afterward?  I love the rustic and easy preparation of my original recipe, but I’d like the final result to be more flavorful—and full of all the good stuff I’ve drizzled on top.

* * *

I won’t lie: I was sad when the long Thanksgiving weekend ended.  I knew it couldn’t last forever, and reentry is always hard after vacation.  But I’m happy to have indulged in so much pleasure—domestic, gastronomic, athletic—and I feel hopeful that I”ll make it to Christmas break with my peace of mind intact.

To Give Thanks

I’m having one heck of a week over here, my dears.  I’ve had food poisoning, or something approximating it, since last Saturday, but I think I’m on the mend.  There have been fevers and a lack of energy, and in the morning, after crawling out of bed, I’ve had to take frequent couch breaks to deal with the weakness and exhaustion.  It’s a strange thing that happens to me once or twice a year; there’s just something about my body that lets intestinal trouble linger.  I’m never completely incapacitated by it, but I’m definitely slowed down and feel generally lousy.

It’s hard to be ill when you live alone because there’s nobody to take care of you.  I like to be pampered when I’m sick.  If I had my choice, I’d have someone bringing me icy-cold ginger ales and new books to read while I rest in bed.  In lieu of luxurious sick-day treatment, I’ve just tried to take it easy.  Thankfully, I think Tuesday was the worst of the illness: that day, I came home early from work, stripped off my clothes, and climbed in bed.  I slept until about 9:30 that night, then I woke up and watched Law & Order: SVU for two hours.  I did manage to write a blog post after that—does that count as productive?  Then I went back to bed.

My Thanksgiving was mixed this year.  It’s a cruel twist of fate when you have flu-like symptoms on the nation’s food holiday; I was kind of upset about this.  But like I said, Tuesday was the worst day, and I managed to gather my strength and bake a quiche for the feast.  This quiche is quite tasty, if I do say so myself.  I had been invited to celebrate the day with a friend and her friends, and I wanted to bring something delicious, hearty, and vegetarian to share.  A quiche seemed perfect: it’s pretty and celebratory, rich and flavorful.  This particular specimen featured a well-seasoned combination of onions and red peppers, with touches of oregano, sage, mustard, and balsamic vinegar.  I think the mustard and vinegar are inspired touches, adding an unusual depth of flavor to the filling.  The crust is on the rich side even for pastry, using a full stick of butter, and for the cheese, I used a smoked cheddar.  The recipe originally calls for Gruyere, but due to my illness, I turned to the refrigerator and used what I had on hand.  I think it works: the smokiness adds another layer of flavor to an already-interesting dish.

Thanksgiving dinner was lovely.  The highlights included cranberries in three forms, all of which were seconds-worthy.  There was a cranberry salsa which combined sweetened cranberries with cilantro, jalapeno, and lime juice—it was like cranberry sauce, Tex-Mex style.  There was another cranberry dish, this one a sweet salad of sorts with citrus in it.  Finally, there was a cranberry-raspberry pie, which was sweet-tart heaven, though it made me long for a scoop of vanilla ice cream to eat alongside.  There were six of us who feasted together, and two turkeys, which is kind of nuts for five people if you don’t count me.  My quiche wasn’t very popular, which may have had something to do with the two turkeys.  I had a shudder-worthy moment when the first guest dug into my quiche like it was a casserole, taking a big old scoop right out of the middle.  I guess my crust wasn’t obvious enough.  But the quiche and I recovered, and our dinner table conversation was interesting and everyone seemed to have a good time.

I felt grateful to have somewhere to go this year for Thanksgiving.  Last year I spent the holiday by myself, and while it wasn’t bad, I feel like Thanksgiving is a holiday that needs to be shared with other people.  It’s not feasible for me to spend every big holiday with my family, so I’m happy when someone adopts me into their family for an evening.  My friend Amutha is fast becoming a very close friend, and this year I gave thanks for our friendship and the generosity of strangers who accepted me into their festivities.  I always feel like I have much for which to be thankful, and in the end, it always comes down to life, love, and food.  That’s all I really need.

Thanksgiving Quiche

Adapted from Sunlight Cafe by Mollie Katzen

Serves 6-8 if accompanied by side dishes

My only complaint about this quiche is that it weeps after it’s been cut.  I used lowfat milk in the custard, but I think in the future, I’ll use either 1/2 cup milk or 1/2 cup each milk and something richer, like heavy cream or half-and-half.  The texture of the custard is good, but I really don’t like the weeping.  It threatens to make the crust soggy and it looks unappetizing.

Custard issues aside, this quiche was really quite tasty and I do hope to make it again.  I ate it for lunch and dinner on Friday, and I’m going to eat more quiche tonight.  It’s my version of eating the leftover turkey from Thanksgiving.

For the crust:

1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 cup (one stick) cold butter, sliced

Up to 3 tbsp. cold water, milk, or buttermilk (I used 3 tbsp. buttermilk)

1)  In a food processor, mix together the flour and salt.  Add the butter, then pulse several times to cut the butter into the flour mixture until it resembles a coarse meal.

2)  Add the liquid, 1 tbsp. at a time, and pulse to combine.  The dough is ready when you can pinch it and it sticks to itself.

3)  Dump the dough onto a floured surface and gather it into a ball.  Roll it out to fit your pie pan (I used a 9-inch pie pan here), then gently lift it and place it in the pan.  Use your fingers to nudge it into place and repair any holes or tears.  Create an even edge as much as you can—the filling is generous and will fill a 9-inch pie pan up to the top.  I admit that I’m not the most talented pastry chef, but even my crust turned out well here.

4)  Tuck the crust in the fridge and start working on the filling.

For the filling:

1 tbsp. olive oil

3 medium onions (about 3 cups), sliced

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. dried sage

1/4 tsp. dried thyme

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

1 tbsp. balsamic vinegar

1 medium red bell pepper (about one cup), sliced

1 cup packed shredded smoked cheddar cheese

3 large eggs

1 cup milk (see headnote)

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

1)  Add the olive oil to a medium skillet and put it over medium heat.  Add the onions and cook for about 5 minutes.  Add the salt, herbs, and mustard.  Cover the pan, lower the heat to medium-low, and cook for 15 minutes, stirring every once in a while.  (Now is a good time to make the crust, if you haven’t done so already.)

2)  Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

3)  Add the vinegar and bell pepper to the onions and turn the heat up to medium.  Cook, uncovered, for another 5 minutes.  Remove from the heat.

4)  Place the pie pan, with crust inside, on a rimmed baking sheet.  Sprinkle the cheddar over the bottom of the crust, then scrape the vegetables over the cheese.

5)  Whisk together the eggs, milk, and black pepper.  Carefully pour this over the vegetables.

6)  Bake the quiche for 35-40 minutes, until the custard is set.  (MIne took about 40 minutes to bake.)  Cool for at least 10 minutes before slicing.

I Am Ready

Today is my 29th birthday. 

I’m not scared to grow older.  I’m scared of lots of things: cancer, burglars, big trucks, e-mails where the subject line is a person’s first and last name.  But I’m not scared of my birthday, nor am I scared to say good-bye to my twenties.  I am ready, though I’ve got one more year before it’s time.

I no longer feel defined by my age.  I actually feel rather timeless, neither young nor old.  I’m neither innocent nor jaded, neither clueless nor wise.  I feel a child’s delight inside me when I see tiny wildflowers in bloom, or a flock of black birds perched high above me on an electrical wire.  I feel a teenager’s heart flutter inside me when I look at Matt and I remember how unlikely it was that we met at all.  I feel a lifelong student’s intellect when I read and write.  And I feel a timeless curiosity whenever I try something new, a sense that I will never be too old to learn, to try new things, and to fail.  Mostly, though, I’m just me, with 29 years of adventure under my belt, and I’m ready for what’s next.

This year has been a good one and a hard one.  Is that true for every year?  I don’t know.  This year brought two cancer diagnoses to people for whom I care and a lot of fear of the future, but I remain hopeful that these stories will have happy endings.  Maybe that’s the mark of a good year—that you still feel hopeful for what’s next, even in the face of tragic news.  For me professionally, it was a train wreck between my expectations and what I accomplished.  I have been trying to make my peace with these disappointments.  Personally, it was a year to grow into my home here in Texas.  I have had many magical moments here, tiny pauses during which I notice how beautiful and surreal it is down here.  Taking lots of pictures has helped me notice more of these moments.  I spent a lot of time outside.  Texas makes it easy to be an outdoor girl.

This year also brought many new babies into my life.  Two sets of friends became parents, and an adored colleague at work became a father.  In my own family, we’ve got a new baby on the way, a brother or sister for my niece, Lydia.  In another family, a set of twins celebrated their first birthday.  Their birth a year ago was three months earlier than it should have been, and it was terrifying, especially for their parents, my dear friends.  To see the twins turn one—well, I was so happy, knowing they’d made it and they’re doing their best to be good babies. 

When I think about what I want for this next year of my life, I think about living a bigger, more vibrant life.  I don’t need massive changes in my life; I’m pretty happy the way things are.  I could use fewer weekends in the lab, yes, but those weekend hours come as part of my larger commitment to my work.  Of course I’d love to see my work really take off, to find myself working on a project that is going to pan out into a new science story and a paper.  That goal hasn’t changed since I started my postdoc.  But beyond my work, this is what bigger and more vibrant looks like to me.

I want to wear more red clothes.

I want to eat more chocolate cake.

I want to run more miles.

I want to swing on more swings.

I want to wear a twirly blue skirt as much as possible.

I want MORE ADVENTURES.

I want to wear fishnets and short skirts.

I want to eat more pizza.

I want to see more sunsets.

I want to spend more time hugging.

I want to walk in parks with my favorite people.

I want to break two hours in a half-marathon.

I want to make new friends but keep the old.  (One is silver and the other gold!)

I want to work on my laugh lines, so that when I’m old, my mouth turns up, not down.

I want to watch the Harry Potter movies.  (I’m so far behind!  I’m only on Goblet of Fire now.)

I want to read more fiction and spend more time in libraries.

* * *

I think that’s enough for one year.  Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers.  I hope your little hearts soar with gratitude tomorrow as you celebrate this holiday with loved ones and fantastic food.