Grapefruit Ambrosia

Grapefruit Ambrosia is meant to be a sophisticated spin on an old Southern classic.

But you know what, people? Campari (yech) just can't compare with the restorative yum factor of Cool Whip and mini-marshmallows.

THIS is what ambrosia is supposed to be:



I'm sorry. I can't help it. I grew up in Georgia, Texas and North Carolina. And actually, if you really want to get nit-picky about it, not only should ambrosia have Cool-Whip and mini-marshmallows, you should also mix pistachio pudding mix (dry) into the Cool-Whip.

So call this what you want--Grapefruit and Coconut Salad, perhaps. But it ain't ambrosia. Sorry.



P.S. People who still haven't made this yet. Do not buy a bottle of Campari. You will be so mad, because it's the most disgusting liquor on the planet. I happen to have it at work because somebody here actually likes it, but you should just go to a local bar and beg them to give you 2 tablespoons in a little ziplock bag. They'll probably feel sorry for you and not charge you anything.

P.P.S. Gourmet people--what's with the photo for this recipe on Epicurious? It has nothing to do with the actual recipe, though it might be a grapefruit, but it sort of looks grilled with a little toast thing next to it.

Dandelion Salad with Warm Pecan Vinaigrette

Yesterday was organic produce box day! It's very exciting to open--I never know what's going to be in it and have to resist the temptation to call Bobby to ask ahead of time so I can plan. I'm trying to cultivate mushin, and while someday it might hold me in good stead if I ever have to engage in mortal combat, for now it's allowing me to remain open and flexible to whatever comes my way in the vegetable department.

Hey, you have to start somewhere.

So this is what was in my box this week:

* dandelion greens
* garlic (I now have four heads of organic garlic)
* 3 plums
* baby brocolini
* delicata squash
* fennel
* lettuce
* triple creme cheese (yes!)

Kevin, Adam, Teena, I can see the little wheels turning in your brains, and maybe you're even flipping through your book right now.

And if you're like me, Dandelion Greens with Warm Pecan Vinaigrette is the immediate no-brainer.

First of all, dandelions are seasonal. Second, who wants to pick the darn things out of your lawn? (Well, probably your neighbors, but let's leave them out of the equation, shall we?) Third, it's one of those slightly exotic recipes that you just have to jump on immediately if you get the right opportunity--and here it was, handed to me in a sturdy produce box.

So here are my chopped dandelions:



And here they are after pouring the hot dressing on them. By the way, the dressing couldn't be easier. You'll note that the epicurious link asks for hazelnuts--either nut would be just fine.



Not very wilted. The recipe says that the hot dressing doesn't wilt them (just "tames" them), but when I tasted it, I thought they needed more wilting or taming--whatever. So I microwaved them for 30 seconds.

Here's the salad:



And while it was pretty good, I have to make a full disclosure and tell you (if I haven't already), that bitter greens are not my favorites. They scare me a little bit, actually. So I made it more friendly:



...by adding goat cheese. Hey, isn't it about time for goat cheese to make its retro comeback? Where are the goat cheese and sun-dried tomato pizzas of yesteryear?

And this I gladly ate for lunch. My husband LOVED it--he adores bitter greens and would eat them every day if I weren't so not in love with them.

Now--what am I going to do with all that garlic?

Pike Quenelles with White Wine-Mushroom Cream Sauce

Do you want to know what?

I am completely astonished that this recipe is not on Epicurious.

French technique, both the quenelles and the sauce. It seems the epitome of what Gourmet is all about (OK, used to be all about--not so French-centric anymore).

But the only thing a search for "quenelles" turns up is one lonely recipe for Scallop Quenelles with Gingered Tomato Sauce, reviewed by only three people (one of whom hated it).

So what that means (I think) is that this recipe never appeared in the magazine and when the editors put the book together it was either somebody's family favorite or came from some other source, though it's not attributed.

Anyway--people, quenelles are COOL. I first saw a chef making them when a guy came up from Maison Robert to try out for the head chef job at Yanks. You put something pasty in a soup spoon and use another spoon to make an egg shape.



My quenelles did not look as three-dimensional as that but I tried hard. I have to study his technique, maybe.

Now, it's time to backtrack a little bit and tell you that 1. I didn't use pike, I used haddock 2. I didn't read the directions carefully and poured the cream into the food processor with everything else (the idea is you're making kind of a fish mousse that you'll then gently poach) and so 3. I was totally worried that I had screwed it up and 4. then I was completely irritated because adding the cream meant I had that much more material to push through the sieve and I HATE pushing anything but soups through sieves because it takes TEN THOUSAND YEARS.

I was so worried and irritated that I only took one picture. Here are my quenelles gently poaching:



When I tasted my quenelles, I was a little underwhelmed, so that just added to my worry factor.

But then, the sauce. Mmmmmmmmmm.

Actually, I lied when I said the sauce uses French technique, because I'm pretty sure classic French chefs would frown on arrowroot as a thickener, which I've never used but is now my favorite because your sauce will never ever break. Why? Because it acts like cornstarch but doesn't have that weird cornstarch texture.

So the sauce is mmmmmmm because it has wine, shallots, cream, mushrooms, and a little Cognac. It's supposed to have fish stock too, but mine had chicken stock.

This was the last dinner before K. and L. left Sea Meadow and I wanted to make something kind of fancy for them, since they are an appreciative audience. K. was thrilled and impressed that I had made quenelles, and they all loved the dish.

I can't help it, I get off on external validation. Who doesn't?

Ropa Vieja and Melissa Gets Nostalgic

Readers, when Georgia was baking last Sunday, she asked me a question I get from time to time, which is: "Were your parents good cooks?"

I have always answered that question very specifically: my dad is experimental and makes great pan sauces; my mom relies on old standbys that she loves (Brunch Casserole, Seven Layer Salad, Hong Kong Ribs).

But finally I realized that what she was really asking was more of a "nature or nuture" question. What and who were my influences? Did I learn at somebody's knee? And at this I burst out laughing, and told her how terrible of a cook I used to be.

How terrible?

This terrible.

When I was a senior in high school, I dated a basketball player, and I thought it would be fun and a girl-friendly thing to do to cook him his favorite meal, which happened to be steak slathered in a concoction called Ah-So Sauce.



So I went to the store and got this stuff, came home, put a frying pan on the stove, opened the freezer and pulled out a steak.



I slathered it with Ah-So Sauce, and put it in the pan, where it refused to cook, just sort of eventually made a saucy puddle, and turned a little grey on the bottom. At which point, utterly discouraged, we abandoned the cooking project (with Drew saying, "I think my mom thaws out the steak first.") and went on to some other teenaged activity--probably driving around looking for something to eat, preferably accompanied by free and illegally procured alcohol.

My point is this: if I can go from attempting to pan-fry rock-hard frozen steak to tutoring somebody on the finer points of making pastry cream, so can you.

All I have going for me is burning desire, the ability to read, and the capacity to learn from my mistakes. Someday I'll tell you about the time I caught the bottom of my oven on fire. That was exciting.


************************************************************

Ropa Vieja is a Cuban dish that is so-called because it resembles shredded rags in the pot.

This isn't a typical meal that I would make at Sea Meadow (I tend to shy away from peppers and onions for digestive reasons) but since the family was still in the house I wanted a big, one pot meal and this was what I picked. I also had been spending a fortune on groceries, and using a cheap cut of meat (flank steak) was appealing to me.

I was a little worried about the tenderness factor (flank steak isn't really known for that) but you do braise it for almost two hours, and then shred it.

Do you know how long it takes to shred 3 pounds of flank steak? Seemed like eons. I had a mountain.


I loved the way it looked--very colorful.





And when I tasted it the next day I loved the flavor--the cumin rounds it out nicely. Actually, I ate it ice cold out of the fridge, since we've been having hot, sticky weather lately.

I'd recommend it to anybody looking for an inexpensive family meal. You don't even have to use the colored peppers, but hey, maybe you've got some in your garden by now and won't have to shell out $3.99/lb. for them.

Georgia Bakes a Cake, or, Melissa Gets Clever, Part II

Friends, I would like to introduce you to Georgia, grand-daughter-in-law of Dr. and Mrs. S. She and her husband Robby are academics, they live on the West Coast, and they are foodies.

Georgia has been an avid reader of Cooking Gourmet, and you have probably seen her comments here and there (which is why I'm using her full name, not her initial). So we were thrilled to be in the same three-dimensional space this past week, and since I've been doing baking projects with her sister-in-law, I suggested that Georgia and I might have a baking day too.

She was excited, and on Sunday we commenced to making Coconut Cake with Raspberry Coulis.

For a cake baking activity, I'd say that this recipe is pretty advanced. It involves folding egg whites, making pastry cream, and cutting a one layer cake into three layers. All of these things have the potential to turn out badly, so while I let Georgia--a relatively inexperienced baker--take the reins, I was (very) close by to supervise.

One thing she was sad about was that the recipe calls for the pastry cream to cool for three hours--her husband and in-laws were coming for tea and she had hoped to serve her creation. We decided it would have to be a dessert cake but that she would come in the morning to get some for the family.

We hit our first bump in the road with the heavy cream. Georgia had set the Kitchen Aid to whip it, but soon said with dismay--"Oh no, my peaks have deflated!"

Sure enough, she had created butter.



But thanks to a well-stocked fridge, we had more cream to work with. Yay!

I don't feel comfortable making pastry cream without a thermometer, so I had Georgia deviate from the instructions (bring pastry cream to a boil?) and stir with a wooden spoon until it reached 170. I showed her how to strain it, too, since sometimes you have lumps, or maybe you want to get out that vanilla bean pod.

Georgia mixed in the coconut, covered it with wax paper, and we let it sit out to cool to room temp before putting it in the fridge.

That's when I had my brainstorm.

If the whole thing hinged on the pastry cream being cool and set, why not just cool it down quickly? Like spread it out on a big metal pan and put it in the fridge?



I'm so smart.

Now we knew we could get it together for tea, so I asked Georgia if she wanted to try cutting the cake layers. I told her the various ways it could be done, but she declined this piece of the excitement. So I cut the cake while she made the raspberry coulis. Curiously, the cake was tunneled. Experienced bakers, you know that this means the batter has been over-mixed, but this recipe calls for a base of flour, sugar, egg and oil (and salt and bp) and egg whites are folded in. The egg whites are fine and tight, so perhaps it was in the folding, or perhaps it's just the nature of the recipe since Georgia didn't spend an excessive amount of time on that part.

One thing Georgia does love is spreading. She could spread for days. Here she is spreading the custard.



I had to remind her we were watching the clock.

And I got her to pick up the cake layers too, once I assured her they wouldn't break or crack--the texture is very much like angel food cake. See how flexible it is?



Non-butterized whipped cream on the top and sides, some coconut to gild the lily, and we were ready for tea! It was very exciting.



Want a slice?



It was a pleasure to have Georgia in the kitchen, and we're already making plans for next time--which might be Christmas, but may hopefully be sooner.

We could make Roasted Apple Strudels...

or Chocolate Orange Dobestorte...

or Brandied Sour Cherry and Pear Tartlets...

or...

Tabbouleh

Happy Independence Day!

The history behind the 4th seems much more real to me after watching HBO's "John Adams" series. If somehow you've missed this wonderful show, get thee to a Blockbuster and rent it already.

Like most of you, my meal choices for yesterday and today have revolved around: what is festive and seasonal, and what can feed a larger group of people who are standing around a grill drinking beer.

But unlike 99.9% of you, I've also had to keep in mind how to use up the produce from these wonderful organic boxes I've been getting from the Fruitful Basket.

This is why I was sitting in front of Stop n Shop in my car yesterday with the book on my lap, flipping to corn recipes, tomato recipes, salad recipes, beef recipes. Would I reprise 40 Naked Women Corn? I only had 4 ears of corn. Should I do something with those organic cherries? (I decided to hoard them instead)

I finally settled on Tabbouleh (which would use up the organic tomatoes and cukes, and the bumper crop of parsley on our deck), and to revisit Matambre (to use up last week's Swiss chard and carrots) and Tomatoes, Corn, and Jack Cheese (which I remember so clearly I can feel it in my mouth).

My first disappointment with Tabbouleh was finding the damn fine bulgur. Usually there's a little exotic grains and flours section where stuff like this can be located, but all I could come up with was a pre-mixed box of tabbouleh. I bought it, thinking that I could throw away the spice pack, but was dismayed to see that there was no spice pack, it was pre-mixed:



Oh well. Onward.

The second thing I was fussed about is that my tomatoes were not perfectly ripe. Although I must say it made it easier to cut them into perfect 1/4" cubes!

Assembled, it looked like your standard homemade tabbouleh (but with much less bulgur than you generally see. That's the authentic way to make it--it's supposed to highlight the parsley, not the bulgur.)



A quick stop at my friend Ruth's for mint harvest (another tabbouleh ingredient Stop n Shop didn't have) and it was on to my parents house for a bbq.

This is where the tabbouleh experience deviated a little bit from the Gourmet experience.

This was my situation: I usually go to karate on Thursday nights at 7:30. Now, on any other week I might have blown off class for a family holiday party, BUT...the dojo is closing for 1 1/2 weeks for summer vacation. Last night was my last night to get a class in before the break.

I was really torn, but thought I'd eat a light meal and skip over for the class, then skip back and watch the fireworks over Gloucester Harbor. No drinking.

It took about one second for somebody to talk me into a drink (I chose beer, thinking, "carbo-loading!"), and my sister hurried dinner along (steak tips, corn, potatoes) so I could have a bite to eat.

But as we got distracted with my mom's new hospital bed and her pills and curtains for privacy, the moment came when I had to forage for myself (in order to not go to karate with just a beer in my stomach).

I dished up the tabbouleh, of course. And then I looked around for something more substantial to go with it. Something with carbs. No dinner food was out, but there was a big basket of chips. So I invented the world's most awesome combination of food flavors for hungry karate students drinking beer: tabbouleh +



YUM!!!!!!!

So good I had a second little plate. And then I had the



to go to karate and



Happy 4th, everyone!

Walnut Spice Cake and Melissa Gets Clever

One of the great pleasures of this summer, for me, has been the company of granddaughter E. (new readers, this is not MY granddaughter, but the granddaughter of Dr. and Mrs. S.). She is on summer break from her MDiv schooling, and at least once or twice a week she's been coming over to Seameadow in the afternoons to help me bake.

At first, not knowing exactly how much she wanted to do or really what her skill set was, I would split up the duties for baking projects. She would do the dry ingredients and I would take care of the wet ones in the Kitchen Aide.

But one especially hectic week I dumped two big projects right in her lap while I worked on the main meals. E. baked the cake layers and made the buttercream for Devil's Food Cake with Brown Sugar Buttercream, and the very same week she made the Chocolate Caramel Cheesecake for a Seameadow employee who was leaving for Italy. (Well, I made the caramel, because I'm an expert at that, remember?) Both creations were showstoppers, and E. was thrilled with herself.

So in the days following her Pa's death, E. was feeling especially bereft and useless. All the adults have been making big decisions, and even the smallest thing she could do for her Grammy--make tea just the way she likes it--was getting co-opted by the rapidly expanding set of family members in the house.

I know how to fix that. I took her shopping with me and set her to baking Walnut Spice Cake with Lemon Glaze.

I picked this recipe because we've been on chocolate overload at Seameadow. There may be some of you who say that one can never have too much chocolate, but I think you have to have something to contrast it with, or it loses its divine nature. Walnut Spice Cake seemed the perfect foil.

E. learned a lot of things baking this cake. She learned that I'm inflexible on spice measurements, and that, lacking a half teaspoon of ground allspice, an extra half teaspoon of nutmeg or cinnamon wouldn't do. I had her grind whole allspice to make up for the lack.

She learned my trick for answering the question: "are these egg whites stiff enough?" The answer can be found by resting an egg on the surface. If it doesn't sink more than 1/4", they're perfect.

And how was the cake? Well, there's none of it left, so that's one answer. The family loved it, especially with the contrasting lemon glaze. Another is that it seems a little out-of-season for summer--the spices sing out for fall and apple cider. E. was a little put out with me at first when I shrugged and said it was good, it was OK--but that's only because if I had to list the top ten ingredients I'd use for a cake, neither walnuts nor spice would be on it. What would be ingredient number one? Chocolate, of course.

**********************************************

Melissa Gets Clever

Readers, by now you've discerned that Seameadow is filled with people. A lot of them. My normal audience of two has expanded to fourteen, and it will be sixteen when I get there next. And when you're putting out meals for that many people, you just put your head down and cook, cook, cook.

And you think large. Big salads. Big pans of cornbread. Huge piles of French fries and fried chicken.

So yesterday in the morning I decided to make lasagne--a big sheet for the meat eaters and a smaller one for the vegetarians. Frozen garlic bread and a big salad would make a good dinner.

But one of the frustrating things about making lasagne in the past (in a home kitchen, that is, not a restaurant) is that those little 9X13 pans aren't deep enough to really layer. So I purchased two 4" deep foil pans while I was at the supermarket, and when I got to work, after putting out lunch, I went to town making these lasagnas.

It's surprisingly time consuming to make large amounts of lasagne, because each component has to be perfectly seasoned. And there's a lot of stuff--four pounds of ricotta, three pounds of meat, all kinds of veggies to be roasted and chopped.

But finally I had them assembled, large and slightly smaller. And I get to looking at that large pan filled with meat lasagne, and I think, geez, that looks like a big pan. I'd better just check and make sure it fits in the oven. Because the ovens at Seameadow (we have four of them) are not the standard size--they're a little more compact.

Readers, it didn't fit.

Now, with four ovens you'd think that there would be options, but the ovens in the kitchen are the biggest ones.

After swearing loudly and alarming nearby family members, I called the housekeeper who lives next door. Her oven was smaller than the ones at Seameadow. I thought about E.'s house, a few miles away, but they have at least ten people staying there and I was sure the ovens would be in use.

Did I mention dinnertime was about two hours away? And that there would be 14 for dinner?

I thought about a family friend at the top of the road but we couldn't remember her last name to call her.

Could I bend the pan up, and stuff it in? K. wondered. Or could I take it to a nearby restaurant, where I have connections from my previous restaurant work life in Beverly Farms?

I was mulling all this over when I had an epiphany.

In The Gourmet Cookbook, there's a recipe for Grilled Turkey. Not grilled like drumsticks-and-turkey-breasts-on-the-barbie, but grilled. Whole. Like this:



The trick is putting a protective layer under the turkey, and using indirect heat--turning off the middle burner and maintaining a grill temp of about 350. I'm not sure how Lonnie up there in the photo did it, since he's clearly using a charcoal grill, but that turkey looks pretty good to me.

The big question--would the pan fit on the grill? YES!!!!

So I commenced to cooking what is probably the world's first grilled lasagne.

I put a cookie sheet under the pan, and checked the temp every ten minutes or so to goose it to 350. The setting I ultimately used was (should you ever find yourself in a similar situation): middle burner on low, front and back burners on medium-high.

Readers, it was perfect. And I never would have thought of it if I hadn't read the grilled turkey recipe in The Gourmet Cookbook. Who needs the Boy Scouts Manual for survival? I've got Gourmet on my side.

Roasted Cauliflower with Garlic, and Collard Greens Miniera

It was kind of an odd dinner we had last night, to top off a very sad day. More on that soon, but suffice it to say that not much was going on in the fridge except these incredible veggies from my weekly organic produce box from The Fruitful Basket.

So I settled on two recipes that looked pretty easy--Roasted Cauliflower with Garlic, and Collard Greens Miniera.

The cauliflower recipe had me puzzled a bit because it calls for minced garlic to be tossed with the cauliflower and oil and the whole thing to be roasted in a 425 oven for 25-30 minutes.

Jeez, I thought--that garlic is gonna burn. But then I thought maybe it won't because of some Gourmet magic that will prevent it.

No magic. It burned.

So I've been puzzling over the garlic situation, because it's a great flavor to add to the cauliflower. And I think if I were to try it again I'd use my mini-blender to grind the garlic up with the oil, so that it really clings to the cauliflower, because it was only the garlic that was loose on the tray that burned--there were a few nuggets here and there that stuck to the cauliflower and were yummy.

By the way, I've never eaten cauliflower like this, and it was really tasty--I loved it. I'm not such a fan of steamed cauliflower, but heck, who needs to steam the stuff when you have this option?

Collard greens are another vegetable I'm not so keen on, mostly because the only way I've ever eaten them is cooked for a really long time so that they have the flavor and texture of slightly salty boiled paper.

What a revelation this dish is. Are you trying to get more greens in your diet? Do you love bacon? You will really really love this dish.

It couldn't be simpler. Saute three strips of minced bacon (I used four that were frozen, which actually makes it incredibly easy to slice) until crispy. Then throw in shredded collard greens and stir for one minute. Add a little salt.

That's it!!!!

OK, you might be wondering how to shred collard greens, and no you don't use the grater. Just strip out the big center stem, and stack a few up at a time. Roll them up like a big cigar (or a fatty, if you wish) and slice thinly. It takes a few minutes to go through a bunch, but it's so pretty!



So yes, that's what I had for dinner last night. Roasted cauliflower, sauteed collard greens, and 1.5 extra-dry martinis. And two little tiny containers of French yogurt.

As for the sad day, my boss, Dr. S., died early yesterday morning. New readers, these are the folks I cook for--I'm a private chef in their household. He was 89, and fought the notion of death every single step of the way. More on him in another post--he needs to be properly eulogized.

Cucumber Soup with Wasabi Avocado Cream and Melissa Triumphs Over Technology

Here's the risky thing about deciding not to go out of town (Rockport) to shop. You're stuck with the IGA and what it has to offer, which is limited and eccentric.

Still, I thought, the shopping list for Cucumber Soup with Wasabi Avocado Cream was simple, because I had most of it. I had luscious, ripe avocados from last week's organic produce box, I had wasabi powder and plain yogurt...I had everything, in fact, but three seedless English cucumbers, a lime, and chives. I was a little galled at the thought of buying chives because we have tons at work in the herb garden...but it's such a small list I thought I'd suck it up and shell out 3 or 4 bucks. It's just money, right?

Did the IGA have English cucumbers? Yes they did. One.

Did they have limes? Yes.

Did they have chives? No.

So I bought the one English cucumber and two fat waxed ones, and my lime, and thought hard about chives. Suddenly I remembered that my neighbor Don Rittenburg has a long back yard that abuts ours filled with what he calls "onion grass" and when he mows his lawn it smells like onions.

So I went foraging when I got home. See the sunlight on the other side of those trees? That's where I was going. But I had to climb over this berm type thing:



And there was a whole patch of it, uncut.



Ha. Just call me Euell Gibbons.

Now, I had to be sneaky about using this so-called onion grass, which means to say I couldn't tell Don (my husband, not my neighbor) where I got it, because he claims that the foraged "chives" give him a stomach ache.

This is due to his deep-rooted suspicion of anything not found in a supermarket. My husband is the guy who, when we were vacationing at Small Point, Maine, really really really did not want to eat the mussels I picked off the rocks for dinner because they hadn't been refrigerated first. Like in an 18-wheeler on its way to the supermarket.

So shhhhhhhhh. Don't tell him. Here are my final ingredients, lined up:



Once they're peeled and seeded, all cukes look pretty much the same. A full blender



reduces to very little liquid!



By far the best component of this recipe is the wasabi avocado cream. Oh my god, people! I could eat bowls of this every day of my life. The only thing I was worried about (and still am) is that I never was quite confident that the wasabi paste got thoroughly incorporated into the avocado and yogurt. It's possible that sometime soon I will bite into a little wasabi ball surprise. I suppose a food processor would eliminate that worry but then you'd be dirtying two appliances and unless you're making buckets of this, what's the point?

Anyway, here's the soup and avocado cream, ensemble:



By the way, if you're going to try this, please follow the directions and use kosher salt, not iodized table salt! If you use the latter, it will be too salty. Or I suppose you could use LESS table salt, but kosher salt is really so much better, honest to god.

Oh, what did my husband think? He took some to work today. If he has a stomach ache I am so busted, but I predict he'll think it was heavenly.

*************************************************

Melissa Triumphs Over Technology!

Little have you readers known that I have been laboring under a handicap with my snazzy Sony Cyber-Shot camera, which is that when I got it I immediately started fooling around with the settings and as a result, for the last half year, every setting except two (Low Light with and without Flash) have given me these weird stop-time movies. I'd press the button and it would give a little chirp and say "Recording". Who wants to record Deviled Crab? It stays on the plate!

Grrr!!! So vexing. And I COULD NOT figure out what I had done wrong, because all those little symbols in the window are completely meaningless to me and I couldn't find the manual.

So I've been having serious photo envy at these other food blogs, and when I complimented Ryan at Nose to Tail at Home on his photos (along with a few whines about my own camera), he suggested I find the manual online. He even offered to do it for me! Ah, chivalry.

Well, if I can pump my own gas I can find my own PDF manual, so I wandered around and found not exactly what I was looking for but enough to get me to understand that I had activated something called "multiburst".

And I turned it off. So now I can take photos on every setting, and even though I still think I'm a lousy photographer at least I can take lousy photos in dark rooms and outside in the sun. Yay me!!

Orange Chocolate Chip Cupcakes with Chocolate Frosting

It's that time of the year, folks. The house at Seameadow is filling up with family in anticipation of the fourth of July.

Now, in years past this meant that for two weeks I would be run off my feet cooking, shopping and cleaning up after anywhere from six to twenty-six people. Me. One person solo.

But THIS year we've got a house full of home health aides too. And these lovely, lovely ladies double as scullery maids and waitresses. I put a dirty whisk in the sink and within ten minutes it's clean and back in its place.

It goes without saying that I show my love by feeding them tasty treats, and we have a mutually beneficial relationship as far as I'm concerned.

What I'm trying to say is that this year more than ever I can focus on just the food. (well, that, and organizing projects for the idle talkers) And this week one of the desserts-for-a-crowd that I focused on was Orange Chocolate Chip Cupcakes with Chocolate Frosting.

I rarely make cupcakes and I'm not sure why. The batter is pretty darn simple, they don't take long to cook, and frosting each individual cake is only a minor pain. In fact, the only trouble I had with this recipe is that I forgot to put the chocolate chips in.

Go without? No way! I just dumped them on top by the teaspoon...



...and mixed them in.

And can I just ask a question? Why, would somebody please tell me, would anybody want to use store-bought canned frosting when you could use chocolate ganache as frosting instead? This is a deep mystery to me.



Trust me, they taste as good as they look.