For the last month or so, I’ve been working away on a project that (of course) I can’t really tell you about (boo) because I signed an NDA and all that jazz. It’s been fun and certainly a learning process – I’ve gained some pounds, some knowledge and a minor case of carpal tunnel from all the chopping and the typing. I’m heading into the next phase of this adventure – the 12 day out-of-town photo shoot. It’s meant a ream of printer paper, often spread out all over the dining room table. Most of my meals have been standing or while I’m packing up supplies to ship to the location – the table isn’t so much for sitting anymore.

Between all of that – and our epic kitchen sink repair situation (you don’t want to know, I promise) – lunches have been things quickly heated up or things pulled out of the pantry and whizzed together. Opening some cans of beans and a stray jar of artichoke hearts, I thought I’d turn it into a dip for some lunchtime crackers. What happened was pretty magical. I’m not going to be so froofy as to say this is vegetarian tuna salad…but it definitely has that vibe thanks to the cornichons and the mayo. Whiz it a little less than you would for a dip and you have a rockin’ spread for toasty sandwiches – a healthy blob of this on some toasted pumpernickel was incredible. Make a big batch and keep it in the fridge for snacking on with celery or snap peas, too.

 White Bean & Artichoke Spread – serves 6 to 8

• 1 14-ounce can artichoke hearts packed in water, drained
• 2 14 ounce cans cannellini beans, rinse and drained
• 1/2 cup cornichons
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
• 1/4 cup parsley, loosely packed
• 2 tbsp. low fat mayonnaise – I use Duke’s
• a pinch of red pepper flakes
• salt and pepper, to taste
• chives or other fresh chopped herbs, to garnish

- In a food processor, combine the artichoke hearts, beans, cornichons, garlic, red pepper flakes and parsley. Pulse 10 or so times to chop up the ingredients. Add in the mayo and pulse until desire texture. Season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with chopped herbs if you want as a garnish.

The month of April was largely spent indoors on shoots. I’ve seen glimpses of spring – mixed with some summer-like 80 degree weather – while walking to and from my car. Now that I’m about to have a lull before heading out of town, it’s been nice to have a chance to get in the kitchen. To hold the camera again. Cooking lunch at home. Dreaming of the spring produce I’ve been anticipating for months. Coming back here and sharing. I’ve missed this place and I’ve missed my time alone in front of the stove.

Inspiration was delivered to me at one of those shoot lunches (this doesn’t happen very often, fyi) in the form of an egg salad sandwich with local asparagus on it. Star Provisions has big, fat, beautiful asparagus that really need just a bit of seasoning to make them shine. I’d never thought to do a quickly blanched asparagus on a sandwich before – the texture is lovely and really unique. Those stalks are too precious to let go to waste so I made a simple salad out of the ones I had left over.

Herby Egg Salad Sandwiches with Asparagus – serves 2 as a main course/sandwich

I’ve never had asparagus on any sort of sandwich other than veggie panini or whathaveyou. The texture of the just-barely cooked asparagus is really wonderful with the egg salad and the whole thing seems like spring to me. I think a crustier bread or roll works best here to balance out all of the soft textures but, if you want to go for all-around luscious, use some slices of lightly toasted brioche. I chose chives and parsley as the herbs in my egg salad – use whichever ones you like best and have growing or on hand.

• 6 hard boiled eggs – see notes about procedure below
• 2 tbsp. Greek yogurt
• 1 1/2 tbsp. mayonnaise – I use Duke’s
• juice of 1 small lemon
• 1 tbsp. minced chives
• 1 tsp. chopped parsley
• kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper, to taste
• 2 large asparagus stalks – tough ends trimmed, then blanched and drained
• 2 great quality Ciabatta or sourdough rolls – I used one with a bit of herb and cheddar on the top but pick what you prefer

- To make the egg salad: Use whichever method of preparing hard-boiled eggs you prefer. I also use Alton Brown’s method as a base to prepare mine, which Elise also references in her method. Add your eggs to a medium sized stock pot and add water until the eggs are covered by about 1/2″ of water. Bring the pot to a boil over medium heat. Once the eggs have come to a vigorous boil, remove them from the heat and cover them. I let them sit for 10 minutes and then drain and peel them. I also find that the adage about using older eggs is true…so buy your eggs a day or two before you plan on boiling them. To make the salad, roughly chop the peeled eggs with the yogurt, mayo, lemon juice, and chopped herbs. Season with salt and pepper to taste and allow to chill for 15 minutes.

- To assemble the sandwiches: Slice your rolls horizontally – I like to leave them hinged on one side because I think it helps contain the egg salad. Evenly distribute the egg salad among the two rolls – you may have a bit leftover if you don’t want super stuffed sandwiches. Slice the asparagus into 1/4″ strips and lay across the top of the egg salad. Close up the rolls and serve. You could also wrap these with a bit of sandwich paper or parchment and store for a picnic – I wouldn’t wait more than an hour to eat these as the bread will get soggy. If you want to gussy them up even more, a bit of arugula or baby watercress is nice here, too.

Asparagus with Tarragon and Hazelnuts – serves 4 as a side dish/salad

I’ve been recipe testing for a cookbook the past month or two. One of the most unique flavor combinations – at least to me -  I’ve experienced through that cooking is mixing tarragon with hazelnuts. As soon as I tasted the two together, I thought about springy green vegetables like peas – and asparagus. This is a wonderful way to accent perfect spring asparagus – some hints of texture and herbs without covering up their beauty. If you don’t like hazelnuts (or can’t eat them), you could also use toasted almonds or pine nuts.

• 1 pound fresh asparagus, woody ends trimmed
• 1/2 cup chopped hazelnuts
• 2 tbsp. chopped fresh tarragon
• zest and juice of 1 lemon
• 1/2 tbsp. great quality extra virgin olive oil
• fresh ground black pepper and kosher salt, to taste

- Fill a medium sized stock pot with water and bring to a boil. While heating up the water, also fill a large bowl with ice water. When the water is boiling, pop the asparagus into the water to quickly blanch them – you’re not cooking them through here but just getting them tender. For large asparagus like the ones shown, cooking them for 1-2 minutes is plenty. I judge them by color – when they *just* turn vibrant green, I take them out of the water. Remove them from the boiling water and plunge them into the ice water to stop the cooking. They only need 30 seconds to a minute in the cold water. Remove and allow to thoroughly drain before making the salad.

- To assemble, lay out the asparagus on a serving platter – for larger stalks, cut them in half lengthwise. Sprinkle the chopped hazelnuts evenly over the asparagus and do the same with the tarragon. Squeeze the juice over the stalks and distribute the lemon zest. Drizzle the entire platter with a bit of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Serve immediately – part of the beauty of this is the al dente asparagus. It’s going to lose a bit of it’s magic if the stalks get soggy.

It’s one of my favorite spring sights and it’s a sure sign of the season – the first English peas at the farmer’s market. Everything here is happening early. We’ve catapulted into almost summer. The neighborhood markets are starting a few weeks early to accommodate the produce that’s shooting out of the ground. Spring produce is competing with the first tomatoes on the vine…and this is all at the beginning of April. Seeing the mounds of pea pods – wedged between snap peas and beautiful corn and – is something that makes me shut my eyes and sigh happily. The sweetness and the soothing of shelling peas over a bowl, turning your nails green but you just don’t care. It’s worth it. Spring is here and all the bounty that comes with it.

While a bag of frozen peas rests in my freezer year round and get thrown into soups and casseroles and instant noodles and such, fresh peas get treated with kid gloves. They need nothing but a bit of a flash in boiling water, a bit of a douse in some cold to keep them frisky and a tiny amount of fussing with. I’ve had a chilled pea soup rattling around in my head but, in the meantime as I wait for that recipe to show itself, I wanted to make something that celebrated the sweet crunch and pop of these first peas. Some radish for crunch and color, flecks of salty cheese and some toasted nuts stirred together with a simple lemon vinaigrette. A couple chunks of crusty bread and short glasses of wine…and you have a perfect salad to celebrate the onset of Spring.

Spring Pea & Radish Salad – serves 4 to 6 as a side dish

• 4 cups shelled fresh English/green peas
• 1/2 cup sliced raw radishes – about 10-12 radishes depending on size
• 1/2 cup toasted slivered or sliced almonds – if you’d rather use hazelnuts, they’d be great here too
• juice of 2 large lemons
• 2 tbsp. great quality extra virgin olive oil
• 2 ounces crumbly Parmesan cheese, broken up into small chunks with the tip of a knife
• kosher or sea salt & fresh ground black pepper, to taste

- Bring a medium stock/soup pot full of water to a boil. Throw in the peas and allow to cook just until the peas are floating at the top. Drain into a colander and then either rinse with cold water or plunge into a bowl of ice water just to stop the cooking process. Drain again and allow to sit in the colander while you put the other salad elements together.

- In a large mixing bowl, combine the radishes and almonds. Add in the drained peas and stir to combine. Pour in the lemon juice and olive oil and stir again to coat thoroughly. Toss in the Parmesan cheese and taste – you can add kosher salt and pepper to taste depending on the saltiness of your cheese. Serve immediately – this salad is lovely at room temperature.

Thanks to my good friend Tony Clark for taking the photos in this post – it’s quite nice to cook and style and not have to worry about the photos, too.

“I’m not going to lay down in words the lure of this place. Every great writer in the land, from Faulkner to Twain to Rice to Ford, has tried to do it and fallen short. It is impossible to capture the essence, tolerance, and spirit of south Louisiana in words and to try is to roll down a road of clichés, bouncing over beignets and beads and brass bands and it just is what it is. It is home.” –

Charlie Rose from 1 Dead in Attic

My first – and only – visit to New Orleans was when I was 17 or 18 years old. Before I knew what I know now about food and food culture. Before I could drink or appreciate a great cocktail. Before Hurricane Katrina. We did the usual tourist stuff organized by the school – beignets at Cafe du Monde, jazz at Preservation Hall. The New Orleans institutions. For my return visit – 18 years later – I wanted to experience New Orleans as authentically as I could. No standing in line for powdered hunks of dough (don’t get me wrong – they’re delicious), no lines waiting for a muffaletta, no jazz club stereotypes. I wanted to see as much of the city as I could – walk everywhere and let the music (and smells) in the air guide us.

When I try to sort out where to begin, all of the details of the trip swirl into one sultry, vibrating experience. As soon as you hit the streets of New Orleans, you feel it – this palpable, magical, historic “it”. The city is alive all the time – it differs from hour to hour. In the daylight, it’s groundbreaking boutiques like Avery Fine Perfumes, who chose NOLA as the spot for their first permanent retail location. It’s also the throngs of people lined up for cocktails and charcuterie at spots like Cochon Butcher. It’s mid-afternoon beers and games of pool with regulars in bars like Mimi’s and Half Moon (if you stop by Half Moon, ask for Woody). It’s brunch, burgers and Brussels sprouts and Sylvain – one of my favorite discoveries of the trip.

As the sun starts to set and the day dims just a bit, it’s street musicians that rival anything I’ve ever heard. You’re standing on the corner with a plastic cup in hand – I had to ask 10 times before I believed I could walk around with a cocktail – listening to the wailing of the most brilliant brass instruments when you hear a similar tune and the stomping of feet coming around the bend. You look around and here comes a wedding parade – complete with second line – filled with the most jubilant, glowing wedding party and their band of characters. It all fits, somehow, and Mike and I both looked at each other and raised our glasses. The New Orleans I’d been hoping to see.

At night, New Orleans is tasting menus at Coquette – I had a crab salad with asparagus and mustard flowers that made me swoon. It’s gastronomic institutions like Delmonico or Dickie Brennan’s. It’s also competing for bar seats with vampires at places like Pravda and Bar Tonique. One evening while we were there, the power went out at Tonique and, while some folks paid their tabs and hightailed it, we sat there in the dark…finishing our drink while watching the bartender not miss a beat. That, too, was the NOLA I’d been hoping to see.

I’ve struggled with what to say about the remnants of Hurricane Katrina and the lasting effects it has had on the city of New Orleans – nothing I say here is any different or more powerful than all the words and photos we’ve seen. We spent a good amount of time visiting neighborhoods outside of the Quarter, where we were staying. My desire to see some of the remaining Banksys – the ones that haven’t been demolished or painted over – was tempered by my desire not to be a tourist in the lives of folks that still live in Tremé and the Lower Ninth Ward and other neighborhoods throughout the city. You won’t see any photos of tags spray painted on houses. Sofas sitting out in yards of abandoned houses nearly 6 years later. Collapsing roofs and front stoops. You know why? Because people still live there and sit on those stoops. Families sitting on steps in front of houses that seem barely held together. Water lines and mildew crawling up the sides. This isn’t a tourist spot – this is real life for many people who chose to stay after the storm.

Banksy went to New Orleans in 2008 – two years after Katrina – and left behind close to a dozen works that were a commentary on the state and speed of the clean-up, as well as a dig at the “Grey Ghost”, an un-named man who covers up graffiti and street art with the same ominous color of gray paint. His placement of these pieces – near St. Roch, tucked away in Tremé, and the most moving being in Lower Ninth Ward – was no accident: a way to draw attention to the slow pace of help and recovery in these neighborhoods…and if people like me wanted to see his work, we’d have to go see it for ourselves. We’d have to make ourselves uncomfortable. See something that isn’t perfectly pastel old world charm. The boy with the bugle – his horn facing what is now a shell of a house that’s deteriorated even further since the storm – pointing at blocks of neighborhoods that look like an atomic bomb went off. That look like people dropped what they were doing and simply evaporated. The thought of a tidal wave of water rushing through city blocks. It’s an image I’ll never forget – I can’t talk about it without choking back tears.

Despite it all, many people chose to stay. To come back to New Orleans and help rebuild. Note that I don’t say “help make it better”. In the eyes of many people that live every day in NOLA, there was nothing wrong with their city before the storm. This notion of martyrdom and sweeping in to “fix things” is, for all practical purposes, frowned upon. The people of New Orleans want their city to be back the way it was. We don’t need your help. We need you to come here and contribute. Build something of use and of beauty in this community. Live with us – don’t just think that by tearing something down and building it new that you’re making it all better. Live day to day here with us and be a part of us. People in NOLA still talk about Katrina but in a way that isn’t full of sadness. There’s a matter-of-factness with a tinge of pride thrown in. We lived that and we’re still here so have a drink, new friend. That’s the message I heard over and over again and, more important than any photo I took there, brought home with me. I’m counting the days until I can do it again.

So many folks have asked where we ate while in New Orleans that I thought I would include a list of stops we made on our trip – food or otherwise. These are the places shown in the photos or referenced in this post.  All the places listed are spots I’d visit again…and recommend to others. It is by no means an exhaustive list or a final itinerary – as Angie Mosier said to me, “eating and drinking New Orleans could be one’s life work”.

• Avery Fine Perfumes – a tiny jewelry box of a shop near the Warehouse district. Treat yourself and stop in.
• Perino’s Boiling Pot – this place is attached to a hotel and looks sort of like a truck stop…except they have amazing seafood & incredible crawfish boudin
• St. Louis Cathedral – the oldest Catholic cathedral still in regular use in the US.
• Sucré - Amazing chocolates, macarons, and gelato that are all as beautiful as they are tasty.
• Half Moon – It’s a neighborhood spot with great bartenders, pool tables and dart boards.
• Cochon Butcher – I don’t need to explain how hot Cochon Butcher is. Go there with a bit of time and some patience – it is well worth the wait.
• Sylvain – Every single thing in this place is tasty and the cocktails are great. Amazing burger. They make their cola in house.
• MRB – Get the blackened shrimp and crawfish queso. You’ll thank me.
• Goorin Bros. Hat Shop – Having a hat in NOLA seems to be a requirement. This spot is an institution & has great styles at reasonable prices.
• Molly’s At The Market – While the frozen Irish coffees are certainly a draw, this place feels like a neighborhood bar in any city. Don’t be surprised if there’s a cat sitting on the stool next to you. Great Bloody Marys, too.
• Royal Blend Coffee and Tea – Tucked away off Royal, it’s a much needed morning sanctuary to grab a caffeine jolt & relax.
• Mimi’s at the Marigny – They open early, have a banging tapas menu, great drinks and better people watching.
• Our Lady of Guadalupe Church & The International Shrine of St. Jude – This church is likely off the radar of many visiting NOLA. It shouldn’t be. It’s breathtaking and worth a small detour.
• Coquette – Do the tasting menu. Trust me.
• Elizabeth’s – Praline bacon. That is all.
• Bar Tonique – One of my favorite stops of the trip. Insane ambiance and cocktails.
• The Shop – a brilliant art gallery in the Quarter.
• Dickie Brennan’s – Creamed spinach, fantastic seafood and white linen treatment.
• Pravda – Absinthe and vampires. Those things both live at Pravda.

Full disclosure: This ain’t no media trip or sponsored post.

The snowy white blossoms peeking over the fence between houses. The lone crocus springing up in the middle of our slightly overgrown yard. Petals littering our front steps. These are the first signs of spring I’ve seen. They’re really the only signs of anything I’ve seen in the past few weeks. With the time change, I’ve gone from going to work when it’s dark and coming home when it’s dark to at least being able to see peeks of sunshine and the warm weather that’s quickly set in here. Being inside all day when the world around you is coming to life messes with your head a bit – making the days seem just a bit longer, those dark hours a bit more so.

I’ve been wanting to sit down and write a list of some of the things I’ve been reading and bookmarking but, well, I guess that might be what Pinterest is for these days. I’ve been meaning to sit down and gush enthusiastically about the workshop I’m helping out with in Charleston with two really amazing ladies. It’s sold out now, however – amazing since it’s months and months away. I love Charleston and I love the people I’ll be spending those days with. I hope I’ll see you there.

When I started my blog what seems like decades ago, I was sort of skeptical that people would want to make recipes they found here – why I don’t know. The kind notes and emails submitted through the site about things I’ve whipped up making other people happy? They fuel my fire and tickle me to no end. I read them all whether I have time to send a few words back. The unexpected offshoot of all of this is developing recipes for other folks – businesses and produce growers and the like – on days when I’m not in the studio.

As a kid, my dad’s favorite dessert was angel food cake or pound cake with sugary strawberries – you know, with that syrupy liquid poured over it all? There’s a place for that, of course…but as I’ve said a multitude of times here, I don’t have that much of a sweet tooth. So when the folks at California Strawberry Commission asked if I’d create a recipe for their blog, I saw it as an opportunity to work on a not-so-sweet version of the dessert I grew up eating. I do so love the play of sweet and savory and there’s no better example of that than fresh strawberries and balsamic vinegar. Throw in a dash or two of black pepper – also a great friend to strawberries – and it’s a grown-up version of an iconic dessert. You can find the recipe for this Black Pepper Spongecake with Balsamic Whipped Cream and Strawberries here.

Oh and about that list of things I’ve been loving and lusting? Here are just a few of them:

• Speaking of strawberries, wild strawberries in Prosecco jelly? Stunning.
• Savannah is very lucky to have Cheryl & Griff baking up love every day. For those of us who don’t live there, the Back In The Day Bakery cookbook is out.
• Merry-Jennifer and a lemon cake. Two of my favorite things.
• I’ve made these quinoa cakes that Aran posted the recipe for at least half a dozen times. They’re brilliant.
• Heidi’s tomato soup.
• Just about anything on Happyolks.
• Note to Self.

Anything I know about Cajun food – and specifically gumbo – I’ve learned through Mike & his family in Louisiana. Before they were in my life, I only knew about gumbo from the version my mom made. As a lady from North Dakota, I’m not sure what got in her head that made her think she knew how to take a stab at it but, bless her heart, she did. Many times. While she could make just about any other kind of soup on earth, this wasn’t one of them. This strange concoction of chicken and shrimp and sausage in a broth that, even before I knew better, didn’t seem right.

Three years ago, on my first trip to Louisiana with the boy to see his family, we ate at a place Mike couldn’t stop talking about – Herby K’s. The shrimp buster, he said. You have to try the shrimp buster – with an extra shrimp on it. So I did…and it was great. On the next visit, I thought I’d branch out and try the etouffé – also delicious. As it usually is, the third time was the charm and my menu exploration paid off. Alongside the obligatory cold beer in the frostiest goblet you’ve ever seen came a bowl of seafood gumbo. It was kinda inauspicious, honestly. Thick broth the color of rusty chocolate, seafood bits the same color from steeping in the sauce with a few crab claws peeking out and not a bit of green in sight.

I can’t really even remember what I said when I tried that first bite. Picking out the crab claws with my fingers and messily eating them without a care in the world. I remember ordering more french bread to sop up the liquid – something I still do every time I go there. The depth of flavor. The gumbo tasting like it had been made in the oldest, most seasoned cast iron on earth. A million stirs of a pot resonating in each spoonful. It was at that exact moment that I knew why mom’s gumbo was never quite right.

There was no roux.

The first time I tried to make seafood gumbo at home, I followed a John Besh recipe. In addition to not loving the inclusion of okra – which is a whole ‘nother post -  I was dead set on getting a roux the color of the one I had experienced at Herby K’s. For a first timer, this is all but panic inducing. I called Mike’s mom (yes, really) and asked her in as calm as voice as I could…”is it SUPPOSED to be doing this!?” It was…and while it was good, it just didn’t compare. I’ve made seafood gumbo about a half dozen times since then springboarding off several different recipes that has now sort of just become a recipe of my own. Fresh ingredients and a good balance of the trinity are important but, as I realized that day at Herby K’s, it’s all about that beginnings of flour with a little fat.

I can’t express to you enough the importance of the roux. If there was ever a dish that was an analogy about life, it’s gumbo. The roux should be treated with a balance of careful tending to and I’m-gonna-see-how-far-this-can-go-before-it-burns. Constant stirring bordering on obsession. Hovering over it and thinking that you’re just not doing it right until, magically, it’s there and your hard work pays off in an instant. Use the oldest, heaviest pot you have. Leave lots of room for the seafood and the broth – despite my prattling on about the roux, they’re important, too. Oh yeah, have some crusty French bread on hand for licking the bowl – rice is nice but having both is better.

Seafood Gumbo – serves 6 to 8 people as an entree

• 3/4 cup vegetable or canola oil
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 large yellow onion, diced
• 1 large green bell pepper, seeded and diced
• 4 stalks celery, ends trimmed (save them for stock!) and diced
• 2 large cloves garlic, minced
• 1 bottle Shiner Bock, Abita Amber or your preferred amber beer
• 3 cups vegetable stock
• 3 cups seafood stock – clam stock or shrimp stock are best here
• 3 large bay leaves
• 3 sprigs fresh thyme
• 1 tsp. cayenne pepper
• a pinch red chili flakes
• 1/4 cup Worcestershire Sauce
• 1 tbsp. Tabasco or other hot sauce
• 1 pound cocktail crab claws
• 1 pound catfish or grouper – skinless and cut into small chunks
• 1 1/2 pounds of 36-40 shrimp – peeled and deveined
• 1 cup small fresh shucked raw oysters (and their liquor)
• kosher salt & fresh ground black pepper, to taste
• chopped green onions or parsley and white rice, for serving
• gumbo filé to sprinkle on at the end (optional – if using, add at the end not during the cooking process as filé is a natural thickener)

- The first step – and the most important one – is the roux. You need a large, heavy bottomed stock pot or large cast iron pot for this task. You also need a good bit of patience. Taking the time to get the roux darkened is well worth it. Heat up the oil over medium heat for 3-4 minutes until it is good and shimmering. Add in the flour and start stirring with a wooden spoon. Keep stirring every minute or so to ensure the roux isn’t burning and is browning evenly. Don’t be fooled – this should take between 30-45 minutes. You’re looking for the roux to be smooth and be a dark milk chocolate color.

- Once the roux is to the desired color, add in the celery, onions and green bell peppers. Stir to combine and allow to cook for 5-6 minutes. Add in the garlic and saute for another 1-2 minutes. Pour in the beer, seafood stock and vegetable stock – stir to combine, as well. To the pot, add the thyme sprigs, bay leaves, cayenne pepper, red chili flakes, Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco. Bring to a boil then reduce heat to medium low and allow it to simmer for 45 minutes to an hour – if you can, periodically skim off the foamy stuff that’s going to develop on the top.

- To finish the gumbo, add the crab claws, catfish, shrimp and oysters to the pot. Stir to get everyone swimming in the liquid and allow to cook for another 10 minutes. You want the seafood just cooked through but not tough. Remove the bay leaves & thyme stems if you see them. Taste the gumbo and season accordingly with salt, pepper and additional hot sauce if needed. To serve, spoon some white rice into a bowl, pour the gumbo on top and sprinkle with parsley or chopped green onions for garnish. Serve immediately.

Editor’s Note: The gumbo crowd is about as passionate as the chili and the BBQ crowds. This recipe is my attempt to approximate the gumbo at Herby K’s. Gumbo is like snowflakes – everyone has their own recipe and none of them are the same. I’m just sayin’.

Dear Friend,

I know this is a stretch but I’m writing in hopes of finding someone I used to know. Her name is Tami and she used to be quite a wonderful writer. She was quite wonderful at lots of things but ever since I could remember, writing was the secret thing she loved doing…and she did for herself. In her teenage years, she always kept journals and I got fleeting glances at them and they were filled with such passion. Such hopefulness. Big dreams. The possibility of anything. I know when she went to college, she was conflicted because her love of writing got muddied by papers and long-winded drivel that she didn’t care much for…and instead, she took another path. I think about Tami often and I’m reaching out in case you’re the person I’m speaking of. The one who never wrote for other eyes to see it. Just taking pen to paper (as it was back then) because she loved it so. Because if you wrote it down, it made things real. Capturing something that she felt so much because she didn’t want to ever forget it.

If this is you, I hope that you’ve continued to discover the great happiness you found in words – in the act of writing instead of saying so much. You never did say much to folks you didn’t know. So protective of your heart. Your mind. If you’re still writing, I do hope you’re sharing it with someone – does the writing exist (or matter) if no one sees it? I hope you’ve gone through your life and the tumultuousness that everyone faces in the process of growing older…and I hope you’ve done it with as much grace and eloquence as I know you’re capable of. What ever happened to that raggedy, dog-eared copy of Walden that you used to carry around? It would have been so cliché and tormented if you hadn’t loved that book so damned much.

If you’re not the Tami that I’m looking for, I’m sorry. Thanks for taking the time – maybe over a cup of tea – to entertain this letter. Maybe hearing about someone that felt things truly and fearlessly will make you write, as well…if you don’t already. It’s not the easiest way to document ones life but, from all accounts, it sure seems worth it. Maybe this letter will make you write to someone else, to send note of thanks or devotion to someone that deserves it. It could make you read a great book and be inspired – that Death of Artemio Cruz is always a good one for that. I hope this finds you living fully…and openly…and honestly. Heck – tell someone about your day. The Sunday that you’re spending in your kitchen, maybe. There’s merit in that, too, ya know.

Thanks again for your time. If you’re the Tami I’m looking for – that I’m sure lots of people are looking for – I hope you’re living as brazenly as you always have and that you’re sharing it with someone. It certainly made an impression on me. You don’t have to write me back – just keep doing what you’re doing. Miss you & think of you often.

Yours,

- t*

Last month, in our rolling kitchen/styling hovel, there were many mornings where we arrived at the location in total darkness. The first ones there – our driveway shelter only plugged into the power to the house and no heat to speak of. Turning on the oven and hovering over it to warm up, we started chopping, searing and stirring – getting ready for the recipes to be shot that day. As the day went on and the sun came up, playing tricks on you that the temperature outside would match the glorious sunshine as we walked back and forth to set, these amazing smells would be pumped out of our exhaust fan – chilies, onions, pork seared with a coffee dry rub, the most divine beef stew simmering on the stove. Ingrid’s recipes were all pretty fantastic and the scents wafting from our kitchen were a comforting beacon to just about the entire crew those days – few people were able to walk by without commenting on how amazing it smelled out here. A figurative soup pot to crowd around.

In the weeks since the shoot, we’ve had some similar days, weather-wise. It’s been gloriously sunny when you wake up and stare out the window over coffee…and then as soon as you open the door, a blast of cold air makes you pull your collar close to your neck. I’ve been thinking back to those warm smells and how comforting and cozy spice and bright flavor can be. Being pescatarian for over a year now, I miss those stick-to-your-ribs stews and braises. Instead, I turn to hearty soups with lots of beans, intense flavors and great garnishes – vegetarian chili (mike makes a great one), soups chock full of chickpeas and greens. Channeling those flavors I was so happy working with, I started a soup with a mess of tomatillos and went from there – their tang is a great base for building spice and heat. Corn off the cob, some white beans from the pantry, and a few other basic ingredients – topped with shrimp from the fridge – yielded one of the best soups I’ve made in a very long time. This is one you want to lean over a big bowl full and inhale the aroma.

Tomatillo Soup with Corn and White Beans – serves 4 to 6 as a soup course or light entree

While this soup is great on its own, I love some cooked or grilled shrimp thrown in the mix – the tang of the tomatillos and the bit of spice goes so well with the sweetness of the shellfish. You could do this with lobster or crab meat, as well. If you want some meat in the mix, leftover shredded pork or small cubes of tender pork loin could be a nice addition here, too. If you haven’t worked with tomatillos before, note that they have a residual stickiness from their husks that needs to be washed away before you cook with them. Although I add the avocado as a suggested garnish, the creaminess really goes a long way here with all the other textures. Try to add it if you can.

• 2 tbsp. canola or vegetable oil
• 1 medium white onion, diced
• 2 large cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 jalapeno, seeded and finely diced
• a pinch dried red chili flakes
• 15 medium tomatillos (about 1″-1 1/2″ in diameter) – husks removed, rinsed, and roughly chopped
• 7 cups mildly flavored vegetable stock – I split this and used 4 cups stock and 3 cups water as to not overwhelm the flavor/color of the soup
• kernels from 2 cobs of fresh white or yellow corn
• 2 15 ounce cans navy or great Northern white beans – drained and rinsed
• juice of 2 large limes
• 1/4 cup chopped cilantro
• kosher salt and fresh ground pepper, to taste
• optional additions: cooked or grilled shrimp or shredded/cubed pork
• for garnish: sprigs of fresh cilantro, cubes of ripe avocado, lime wedges

- In a large stock or soup pot, heat the oil over medium heat until shimmering . Add in the onion and saute until translucent but not brown – 3 to 4 minutes. Throw in the garlic, jalapeno and chili flakes and saute for another minute. Add the chopped tomatillos to the pot and stir to combine thoroughly. Allow the mixture to cook for 7-8 minutes so the tomatillos begin to soften. Pour in the liquid and bring the mixture to a boil. Once bubbling, reduce heat to a simmer and cook for 20-25 minutes – you want these tastes to start to percolate together. Stir in the corn kernels, white beans, lime juice and chopped cilantro. Allow to cook for 8-10 minutes more to heat the ingredients through but not make the corn and beans mushy. Taste and season accordingly with salt and pepper. To serve, ladle the soup in a bowl and top with any extra protein (if applicable) and serve with avocado, extra cilantro and some lime wedges to squeeze in.

I’ve spent three weeks in what seems like every possible kitchen scenario possible – our spacious food styling-friendly set up with the six burner Vulcan range, a posh house location in downtown Atlanta , and a rolling mobile kitchen that was lit like a horror movie but was quite the godsend. It’s been some crazy, fun times and it’s certainly pushed me in many ways.

I’ve grown. Branched out. Explored.

In the midst of many hours of prepping and chopping, my mind has been wandering. Thinking of our upcoming travel. Staying up way past my bedtime looking at photos, the trips we can take once we’re there. I’ve had my head in the clouds. Feeling a bit overwhelmed while at the same time on the edge of my seat. A plane seat that I’ll be in for 20+ hours.

When my schedule has me stressed out and exhausted, I always turn to spicy food and Asian soups for comfort and soothing. Now, with a trip across the globe no longer a pipe dream, the thought of eating those foods there…being immersed in the culture…letting sounds and smells guide me…has me a little gobsmacked.

Vietnam. Really.

I never thought that wanderlust would become a reality.

Now that our work schedules have been sorted, Mike and I begin finalizing all the details for our trip. We are still a ways away from leaving but we know we’ll be starting in Hanoi and taking some short trips from there. I’ll, of course, be on the food adventure of a lifetime (my lifetime, at least) and will have camera firmly in hand. I’ll be taking you along with me as much as I can, fear not.

As if to reinforce the place I’ve been in my head, the wonderful craft service folks on my shoot two weeks ago made an insanely delicious Asian inspired spread. On the menu was a spring roll salad that reminded me a great deal of Vietnamese bún, one of my most favorite dishes. My version here is just a deconstructed summer roll – all of the fillings without the rice paper wrapper. All of my favorite comfort food elements – noodles, Asian flavors, spicy heat – in one bowl.

Vietnamese Summer Roll Salad – serves 4 as an entree salad

The kicker to this salad is the dressing. There are lots of Asian inspired noodle salads out there but this packs a punch from the Thai red chilies. If they’re not available where you are, you can substitute a blob of Sriracha in a pinch – just taste as you go. I love summer rolls with shrimp in them so that’s what I topped this salad with – you can also do slices of Asian spiced pork or cubes of baked tofu. The frizzled shallots add a warm, bitterness to the salad so try and include them if at all possible.

• 1/2 of a 16 ounces package of Vietnamese rice vermicelli noodles
• 1 small shallot, peeled and thinly sliced
• 2 tbsp. canola or vegetable oil
• 1/2 pound fresh shrimp (36-40 size), shelled and de-veined. you can season these lightly with salt and pepper, if you’d like.
• 1 medium cucumber – peeled and julienned
• 1 large carrot – peeled and cut into long strips with a vegetable peeler or julienned
• 1 cup fresh mung bean sprouts
• 1/3 cup dry roasted, unsalted peanuts
• 1/3 cup loosely packed fresh basil or Thai basil leaves, larger stems removed
• 1/3 cup loosely packed fresh cilantro leaves, tough stems removed
• 1/3 cup loosely packed fresh mint leaves, tough stems removed
• 2 medium Thai red chilies, minced
• 1 tbsp freshly grated ginger or ginger juice
• 1 tbsp. honey or light agave nectar
• 6 tbsp. fish sauce – if you are straight up vegetarian, substitute salt or soy sauce for this. just adjust and taste as you go
• 1/3 cup rice wine vinegar
• lime wedges, as garnish

For the salad:

- Bring a large soup/stockpot of water to a boil. Add in the rice vermicelli noodles and cook until al dente – this should take 4 to 5 minutes. Drain the noodles and rinse with cool water to stop the cooking. Set aside in a colander until you’re ready to assemble the salad.

- In a small skillet, heat the canola oil until shimmering. Stir in the sliced shallot and fry until dark, golden brown. Scoop them out of the pan and onto a paper towl to drain. Wipe out the skillet and, adding just a little bit of oil, cook the shrimp until cooked through – 3 to 4 minutes. Set them aside as well to cool until you assemble the salad.

For the dressing:

- In a small bowl, whisk together the fish sauce, honey, rice wine vinegar, ginger/ginger juice and minced red chili. Set aside until right before serving.

To assemble:

- In a large salad or mixing bowl, tip in the drained rice noodles along with the cucumber, mung bean sprouts and carrots. Mix together (I use my hands for this – tongs work too). Add in the fresh herbs and mix again. Sprinkle the top with the frizzled shallots and roasted peanuts. Top with shrimp or other chosen protein. You can serve this family style in a large bowl or platter…or you can divide into portions. However you choose to serve it, don’t pour over the dressing until the very end so your noodles don’t get soggy. You can also put a small ramekin of the dressing on the side with each portion if you are serving it that way so guests can dress it to their liking. Serve with lime wedges on the side, as well.

The first 10 days or so of the year have been far more introspective than I’d ever planned. I knew I felt the rumblings of taking a bit of a slow start to the year here on the blog but I’ve approached writing here several times…and it hasn’t come. I’ve been spending time doing something for myself every day. Trying to set in place some healthier routines. Even just little things. Taking the dog for a long walk. Making sure I drink those bottles of water. Taking the time to put a little makeup on.

There are the big things, too. The soul-searching stuff. Trying to figure out when putting myself first (or even second or third sometimes) became so damn difficult.

The pup and I and a dear friend went up to the mountains for the weekend. We both needed a chance to do some soul searching. Have that kind of forced environment with little in the way of distractions to let your mind slow down about work and school and doggy daycare and editorial calendars…and let all the marbles that have been clanging around settle.

Rationalizing some decisions about projects I want to work on this year. The change of priorities to fulfill an almost life long dream versus something I know can come in time and still be wonderful. Sitting in pitch darkness, breathing in that crisp air and putting goals out into the universe over a cup of tea. Decidedly not worrying about the weekend’s food while I worry about sorting through a whole year of food.

We didn’t do much cooking in the tiny cabin kitchen. There was some noshing on chips, a failed attempt to roast beets with no foil (there’s a reason I’d never done this before), an emergency run for veggie sandwich fixings.

There was also fruit.

It is one of my “things to do in the new year” to eat more fruit. As someone who likes sweet but not too sweet stuff – and not a fan of chocolate – I’m trying to get more fruit into my diet. Adding it to breakfast (which I’m also trying to be better about eating) and savory items for easy nutrients, all the other health benefits, and something to curb a sweet tooth before it rears its ugly head. This quinoa salad, made for lunch the day before I left, was a way to use up stuff in the house and it is delicious. Black quinoa, some cherries from the fridge, a sprinkle of pistachios and a few leaves of red watercress for more substance. You can replace the pistachios with any nuts you have on hand – toasted almonds would be quite tasty.

Black Quinoa Salad with Cherries, Pistachios and Cress – serves 4 as a light meal

• 1 cup dried black quinoa – rinsed and well-drained
• 2 cups water or lightly flavored vegetable stock
• 1 cup pitted cherries, cut in half or quartered
• 1/3 cup chopped roasted & salted pistachios
• 2 cups red watercress – washed, dried and tougher stems removed
• 3 tbsp. balsamic vinegar
• 1 tbsp. good quality extra virgin olive oil
• 2 tsp. honey
• kosher salt & fresh ground black pepper, to taste

- In a small bowl, whisk together the vinegar, honey, oil, salt and pepper. Set aside.

- In a medium saucepan with a lid, bring the water/stock to a boil. Stir in the quinoa and return to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook, covered, until the water has been absorbed and the quinoa is tender but not mushy – this is about 12 minutes for me but depends on the quinoa you’re using. If it’s still got a bit of bite once the water has been absorbed, add a bit more liquid and continue to cook. Once cooked, remove from heat and allow to cool to room temperature. Fluff with a fork to break up the grains.

- Mix the cooked quinoa with the pistachios and cherries in a salad bowl. Drizzle over the dressing and mix to coat completely. Portion out onto plates and top with handful of the watercress leaves. If you’d like, grind a bit more pepper over the top & sprinkle with a tiny bit of kosher salt to garnish. Serve immediately.