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Savory Valentine Biscuits

February 11, 2018 By Allison

Heart-shaped cookies abound! In the spirit of the season, I developed a savory cut out cracker recipe for a Valentine aperitif. Since I forego frosting and sprinkles, this treat is relatively low maintenance.

My heart biscuits contain a few ingredients, two of which stand out: Parmesan cheese and Piment d’Espelette. Piment d’Espelette is a sweet, flavorful red pepper grown in a Basque village called Espelette. I bought mine in France, but it’s available dried and ground in specialty markets and online. I use it anywhere I’d use black pepper—in vinaigrettes, on roasted vegetables, and sprinkled on soup. It’s a little deeper and sweeter than black pepper. And it’s so pretty. The subtle, red pepper flakes make my rustic crackers worthy of Valentine’s Day.

If you don’t have Piment d’Espelette in your spice drawer, I suggest using ground pink peppercorns. They lend a deep pink-purple hue to the crackers and taste just as delicious.

What should you sip with your heart biscuits? Something bubbly: Champagne, Prosecco, a white beer, or sparkling water with a twist of lime. Happy Valentine’s Day!

…

Snowy Day Breakfast Salad

January 27, 2018 By Allison

Here at the hermitage, in deep snow, everything is ordinary and silent.
—Thomas Merton, 1963

Last week, snow slowed me down. After many busy weeks, I welcomed a few quiet, snowy mornings. I moved slowly and intentionally. Minutes and hours seemed to expand. These mornings were ordinary and uneventful. I gave more time to waking up and more time to breakfast.

My “breakfast salad” is so simple that it doesn’t require a recipe. But it does have a few components and is not for busy work mornings.

Here’s how to pull it together:

“Jammy” Eggs

Bring saucepan of water to a gentle boil. As water is coming up to temperature, prepare an ice water bath in a large bowl. Place on counter, next to burner. Once water boils, use a large spoon to ease eggs into the bowl, one by one. Boil gently, for 6.5 minutes. (7 minutes if you want a more solid yolk.) Use spoon to move eggs from saucepan to ice water bath, to stop cooking. When they’re cool enough to handle, remove peels under running water. Set peeled eggs aside.

Bread

Prepare toast and set aside. I made pita toast last week. Use whatever bread you have on hand. No need for butter.

Salad

Chop English cucumber, tomatoes, and radishes in to bite-sized pieces. Place in a small bowl. Toss with a little extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. If you don’t mind onion in the morning, add a little red or green onion. Set aside.

Yogurt Base

For each serving, scoop 3-4 generous tablespoons of whole milk or Greek yogurt into another small bowl. Squeeze juice of ½ lemon into yogurt, more if you’re preparing multiple servings. Add a pinch of salt and stir. Spread onto breakfast plate(s). Set aside.

Assembly

Gently place salad on yogurt. Slice eggs(s) the long way and nestle into the yogurt. Drizzle a little extra virgin olive oil, squeeze a little lemon juice, and sprinkle with salt and pepper (Piment d’Espelette, if you have it.) Serve with toast.

Revel in your slow morning.

Last night I dreamt of Manderley…

January 18, 2018 By Allison

I was lucky to have a grandmother who always made it a priority to read what her grandchildren read, as a way to connect to them. For my cousins, she trudged through Harry Potter, even though she did not enjoy fantasy and magic. Grandma also dutifully read the Left Behind series along with my middle school brother. She worried that he was becoming a religious fanatic, but that’s a story for another day.

As a young girl, I took it for granted that Grandma and I could always talk about books. I was a hungry, speedy reader who was able to read “grown up” books a little early. I was surprised when, one day, Grandma handed me her copy of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, paraphrasing the first line: “Last night I dreamt of Manderley…” She thought I might enjoy reading it.

In a flash, our relationship expanded. She no longer had to shift to my level and interests. Now I could go toward her beloved texts. She sensed I was ready.

I remember reading the book feverishly—there was romance, evil, and even a ghost, if memory serves. I must have been in 6^th grade. Today, flipping through Grandma’s 1967 Pocket Cardinal Edition, I realize that 419 pages would have been a formidable, appropriate challenge for me. She would not abide vulgar language or sex in novels read by her grandchildren, so my innocence was surely preserved in reading Rebecca.

Now that Grandma is gone and I am grown, I smile to think that my traditional yet fiery grandmother carried Rebecca with her for so many years. From time to time, we’d talk about the novel, and she never failed, hand to chest, to evoke that memorable first line. “Last night I dreamt of Manderley…”

I admit that I have allowed the details of Rebecca to become fuzzy. There was a first wife, a second wife, and a fire. I don’t remember much more. I’m not ready to reread the novel right now. For me, Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca isn’t about plot or strong female characters. It’s about a shared text, a passion for reading, and an enduring intergenerational friendship.

Inspirations

Parul Sehgal’s In Praise of Daphne du Maurier

Light and Sky

January 8, 2018 By Allison

“Space is the breath of art.”
–Frank Lloyd Wright

Sometimes big cities suffocate me. It seems that every inch of space is occupied by buildings, kiosks, and concrete. I often find myself needing more green and more sky.

My recent trip to New York was bitterly cold, and the wind was brutal. Venturing out was a process and a challenge, but my walks were freeing—the icy wind invigorating, the snowflakes dreamy. Ice and snow dotted grey-green Central Park. I easily weaved my way through the crowds on 5^th avenue, stumbled into a toasty bookstore when my toes were too cold, and late one afternoon, found a French bistro serving soupe au pistou.

The constant chill of those days froze my senseless, minor worries, and the wind then blew them away. Amongst and between the traffic and skyscrapers, I reclaimed my inner spaciousness. New York gave breath to an elegant artfulness that refreshed and reset my own desire to create. I bring home color, texture, light, and sky.

Inspirations

Afternoon Tea in Astor Court

Pablo Picasso’s Bird on a Tree at the Guggenheim

Odilon Redon’s Pandora at the Met

Mozart and Tchaikovsky at Lincoln Center

Holiday Minimalism

November 30, 2017 By Allison

I have some minor hoarding tendencies, mostly involving excessive amounts of books and clothes. But when it comes to decorating for the holidays, I prefer a clean, streamlined, and muted look. A few strands of twinkling white lights, some live greenery, and a dozen or so ornaments compose my Christmas décor most years.

This hand-painted ornament is always a sentimental and aesthetic favorite. Quimper faïence (hand-painted pottery) comes from Brittany in Western France. The art dates to the early 18^th century, and it is emblematic of Brittany. Each piece is signed. Motifs include traditional dress and florals, like the one I feature in this post.

My thoughtful aunt Susie gifted this treasure to me years ago, and each time I slip it from its velvety pouch, my mind returns to our visits in France, Italy, and the Midwest. Cool and heavy in my hand, this art piece also connects me to the artist who carries on this Breton tradition, as well as to friends from Brittany who have passed through my life over the years.

I admire minimalists for their empty closets and the clean looks they create in their homes. I am not ready to significantly shorten my book stacks, nor am I prepared to thin out my extensive scarf collection. Yet I emulate their restraint through my commitment to holiday minimalism. My light touch keeps me from feeling bogged down by Christmas “stuff.” Each of my ornaments holds a story, which allows me to enjoy the season all the more.

Shape

November 11, 2017 By Allison

Without darkness, nothing comes to birth.
As with light, nothing flowers.
-May Sarton

Early morning stillness… the Earth rests. I flutter in and out of a last dream. What time is it? Still dark.
I roll on my side. Push myself up. Feet dangle over the carpet. Gentle movements. Deep breath. My feet touch the floor. Warm socks, cozy wrap.

Time to shuffle downstairs. What shall I drink?

Cool water in the kettle. Tea tins in the cupboard.

Black tea? Yes.

How about a Ceylon? Smooth, elegant. Just right.

The water trembles. Shy light filters through the blinds. A couple of teaspoons of dry leaves slipped into the teapot. The water begins to bubble… Just a little longer.

Ritual gives shape to our days. I await the first sip, and the events of today take root in my mind’s eye. As the day unfolds, they will push through the surface. Now, though, I focus on the breath running through me.

Sparkling Apple Spice Tea Cocktail

November 2, 2017 By Allison

In 2010, while living in France, I hosted Thanksgiving for 24 American college students. Our “Franksgiving” celebration was boisterous and joyful. My students decorated my apartment with handmade construction paper leaves and turkeys. I cooked for days in the rickety Strasbourg kitchen—green beans, apple and cabbage slaw, winter squash. Students contributed favorite family casseroles, approximated with French market ingredients. I had rotisserie chickens delivered to the apartment on Garlic Street. It required a lot of planning, coordination, and energy to pull off “Franksgiving.” That fall, I gained a deep appreciation for the beautiful and large family meals my grandmothers, mother, and aunts have hosted over the years.

Back in the States, the scope of my responsibilities is narrower. I host intimate, occasional dinner parties, and I leave Thanksgiving to the pros. I am a daring cook and contribute generously to the meal, but being a guest rather than a hostess is blissful.

This fall, I have developed and perfected a tea cocktail that will shine at your Thanksgiving cocktail hour. Prosecco serves as the bubbly backdrop of my Sparkling Apple Spice Tea Cocktail. The star of the libation is Apple Spice Black Tea syrup, which infuses the drink with a bright apple flavor. Subtle undertones of rosemary and cinnamon make the drink especially fitting for the season. A splash of sparkling water cuts the sweetness, and a snip of rosemary makes it deliciously instagrammable.

This is not a persnickety cocktail. The tea simple syrup can be made weeks in advance and stored in the refrigerator. It comes together quickly in a pitcher. I serve this aperitif in my Grandma Mary Ellen’s crystal champagne coupes. Use whatever glassware you can get your hands on, and feel free to mix and match. Cheers!

Inspiration

Elmwood Inn Apple Spice Black Tea

…

Beauty in Grief

October 24, 2017 By Allison

“Beauty, in a way, justifies our existence.”
–François Cheng, Oeil ouvert et coeur battant

My cousin Robb and I grew up amongst lawyers. Drawn to the arts, we both forged paths that were atypical in our family. Robb became a painter, and I studied literature. We were both teachers.

Last week, Robb died unexpectedly. I feel the pain of this loss in my bones. And memories arise. When we were little, large family gatherings at Grandma and Grandpa’s farm were a wall of noise—wild children waiting for the Easter egg hunt to begin, or, in December, demanding to know when Santa Claus would arrive. We existed in a joyful, buzzing mass of cousins.

Happily, Robb and I got to know one another as adults. Once we met at Caribou Coffee and spent a few hours talking about our favorite museums and gossiping about our siblings. A few years back, I attended one of his shows—in a parking ramp! It was brilliant! The curvy, cavernous, concrete space allowed me to see the genius of his bright and bold paintings. To no one’s surprise, our cool cousin Robb put on a cool show. It is the most cosmopolitan Des Moines, Iowa has ever felt to me.

That evening, my brother and his wife purchased their first Robert Spellman piece, detail of which I share in this post. It hangs in their front hallway, and my eyes fall on it each time I enter their home. Robb left the painting untitled, explaining to my sister-in-law, “this started as a woman and morphed into so much more.” I see echoes of the organized chaos that defined the Spellman get-togethers of our childhood. In Robb’s energetic swirls, I see us charging through Grandma’s house, fueled by sugar and time with cousins. I sense the members of a family gathering around tables. In the center, I see Oneness.

My cousin experienced beauty and created beauty. There is also beauty in our grief. We loved Robb. He graced us with his attention, his presence, and his art. His life was beautiful, and he leaves beauty in his wake.

Inspiration

Robert Spellman Studio

Embroidery II

October 21, 2017 By Allison

Two threads of opaque light

At One with

Invisible needles,

Moving in and out of silent space

Embroidering,

Creating colors unseen

A work of art,

Felt in the Heart

This post was created in collaboration with the lovely Shelley Richardson.

Inspiration

Embroidery

Lunch Strategy

October 14, 2017 By Allison

I am more productive and less grumpy when I take the time to orchestrate not sad desk lunches. Last week I slipped and found myself scrambling in the early afternoons. I ended up eating unmemorable and somewhat unhealthy food.

This week, I promised myself to do a little better, hence this Indian-inspired meal. I make no claims to authenticity, but this combo and a few other add-ins will make this week’s lunches livelier and more nourishing.

Lunch components

Store bought naan bread

Red grapes

Red lentil stew topped with cilantro leaves—I used Mark Bittman’s recipe for Masoor Dal

Brown rice—cooked in the pressure cooker and sprinkled with green onions for color and health

Squares of dark chocolate

Not pictured: a saag paneer (spinach and cheese dish) microwave meal that will be worked in later in the week

I messed up my kitchen a little bit cooking the rice and the stew. But clean-up was quick and there will be no morning panic this week! Also, as much as I enjoy doing everything from scratch, it’s jut not possible when I am busy at work. I am bring realistic about time and priorities. This week’s desk lunches will be more balanced and so will I.

Inspirations

Not Sad Desk Lunches from Food52

Shisho Delicious’ envy-worthy bento box meals

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