"Overdone and Undercooked" Newspaper Columns©

The more I think of it, the more I’m convinced that my neighbor, Margo, shows all of the signs of (shhh, come closer) addictive behavior.

This is all hearsay, mind you.  The way I figure it, anyone who has enthusiastic reports of a day spent rummaging through a hodge-podge of rubble is in trouble.

Margo has the compulsive desire to buy…anything but only if she can barter you down.

Just the other day she came pounding on my screen kitchen door. “Don’t dilly-daily, time’s a-wasting!” she shouted, wild with excitement. It was 6 a.m. on a Saturday and she thought we would be LATE and miss all the bargains at 22 garage sales she had circled in the newspaper to see that day.

I’ve been told that serious pack rats cannot help but take home a bargain. Margo has several: a lazy Suzan that does not turn, fondue forks, hat pins, a ship in a bottle, a flower press and Go-Go boots.

Go-Go boots? “I will add ruffles and make them line-dancing boots,” Margo said, snapping her fingers with inspiration. (She confided in me the other day that she already lost one boot.)

Needless to say, it didn’t take much convincing to tell Margo about a great place to find QUALITY hand-crafted items which were right here in our own neighborhood.

The Woodinville Farmer’s Market.  It is open every Saturday at the C.O. Sorenson School parking lot until October.

This is not a slipshod event. This is a well-thought-out and organized group of serious craftspeople who have united to give Woodinville a class act.

“We hold jury over crafts presentations,” said Pat Talbot, board president. “We take the best of the Northwest and only they are allowed to participate after being judged.” 

Pat continued to tell me that Gretchen Garth, the board secretary, started the process of meetings, phone calls and commitments back in January. The event now has 75 vendors who pay $25 a year and $10 each Saturday and no commercial crafts.

Pat herself was hurrying to set up her booth as she talked with me and passionately describe the market and introducing me to vendors. Pat’s own booth held beautiful original dolls, bears and horses made from antique clothing.

Below is a variety of other vendors you can find on Saturday.

Cyndi White takes Calabash squash and hollows it out, colors the inside with leather dye and makes exotic and unusual works of art.

Galina Rein is a porcelain artist well-known in her native St. Petersburg, Russia.  She lives here now, and the detailed pieces of porcelain are exquisitely eye-filling in their delicate beauty.

Lillian Waterhouse started going to estate sales and collecting antique linens.  She now turns them into decorative Victorian pillows and many other creations from these heirloom linens.

Dolly White makes special order birdhouses for the inside or outside of your house.  Made from cedar that she has whitewashed and stained, they are fun, whimsical, and reasonably priced.

Billy Joe James, a woodcarver who is as jolly as Santa, makes unique Christmas ornaments and walking sticks.

Don Julien, vice president of the market, grows and sells his beautiful miniature roses.

Dorie Zante of Woodinville’s Zante Farm has shared her produce and smiles since 1977.  She will tell you when to pick rhubarb and how to test a melon. She is a true gardener’s friend.

Jane Kaake of the Northshore Senior Center sells raffle tickets and copies of Vintage NW a published book of stories by senior citizens.

The Tonnemaker family brings fruits from the Royal City orchard every Saturday.

Tamara Jones, who left a well-paying job to fulfill her needs to be creative and self-employed, displays one of a kind pins, feathers, necklaces and more.

David Overland, who just turned 13, picks berries and sells them along with the cedar flower boxes his dad helps him make.  With his red-stained fingers to prove it, he proudly states that he has made up to $50 on some Saturdays.

Another 13-year old, Krista Olsen, sculpts clay and makes beads that she turns into fun accessories called Krista Kreatures.

Youngsters talented in making or growing can have a booth. Call Grant Davidson, market manager.  Getting kids involved in the market is a high priority.  There are no membership fees and booth fees are pro-rated by age.

They also have buskers. Buskers? A busker is a talented and energetic entertainer.  So you do magic? Puppet shows? Eat fire? Call Linda McCune.

Face the facts ladies. Did your husband recently forget your anniversary, birthday, holiday?

I felt I could live a fulfilled life if every holiday, etc. were recognized with at least a gift.

My husband has convinced me you do not stop breathing without one.  No one knows what a husband’s life expectancy is, however I have a feeling they get shorter with each holiday

The pressure of gift-giving releases such anxiety that some husbands produce crummy 50-cent card or perfume with the price tag still stuck on the bottom handed to you in the drug store sack.

It would be near tolerable if they would not display such a contrary opinion about the whole thing. When I declared war because he forgot to give me a gift on Mother’s Day, he quickly snapped I wasn’t his mother.

When that one time birthday came around and I desperately needed a turbo-charged sports coupe convertible, he had my wedding band enlarged.

My eyes welled with self-pity when I remembered our first Christmas together.  My stocking filled from top to bottom with white votive candles?  Huh?  The one gift under the tree was a pair of slippers size 14.  I  wear an eight.

Obviously, this man needed training in the school of gift giving to wives.  Inasmuch as I’ve tried, I have been unsuccessful, so I decided to address this issue at my all-women’s health spa.

There is a group of us that walk in the door and right past the stair steppers, bikes, weight machines (anything that makes you sweat) and into the swimming pool.

It is here that we float around on our backs in the swimming pool and count the cracks on the ceiling while we contemplate single life.

Candy, who wears a swim cap (can’t let that chlorine touch the expensive color in her hair)spoke first.  “In my house I have eased off the pressure, right before a holiday, I shop for myself and get myself a treat.”

“That is so lame,” said Sarah (the only one among us who didn’t wear a one-piece suit) “You do not command any respect that way.”

“C’mon,” I laughed. “I spend weeks shopping for holidays, preparing feasts and dropping hints.” I looked over the crowd and shrugged my shoulders.

“Hear, hear!” shouted Gail (she still wore her maternity swimsuit, her youngest is 12). “Well, I was so incensed at my husband insensitivity that I have finally done something about it.” There were laughter and much splashing from the crowd. “I made him take a compatible test in a magazine to see why we see things so differently.”

“Was that last month’s Redbook?” Jenny yelled from across the pool. She was trying to do a lap. “Hey, did you see those great recipes for soup? Talk about instant gratification, soup is like a hug for yourself.”

“Making soup is too much work!” said Candy. “I don’t like the mess of making stock.”

“No way you guys it is so easy believe me,”  I said. “Start with a base of stock or broth usually from chicken or beef. I purchase wings or backs at pennies a pound to add to the chicken scraps leftover from cutting up a whole chicken then throw these in the freezer until I have enough for stock.  Then take a large stock pot, fill it half- way with water add the frozen chicken parts.  Throw in a large onion (if you don’t peel it adds color and more onion flavor) a couple of peeled garlic cloves, the top of celery leaves and throw in carrots, a few potatoes.  I boil all of the above and reduce the heat cover the lid and simmer for an hour or so till flavors have mingled.  I let it cook then pour it through a strainer.”

“I refrigerate the strained broth until the fat hardens enough for easy removal. Then you have several cups of broth that you can freeze — an easy base for a light or rich cream soup. You know another really quick soup that kids love is to take pot roast or round steak, about the size of a saucer, cut it into bite-size pieces (easier to cut if partially frozen) put it in a pot with a little water and cook the meat.  Then to the meat add one large chopped onion, let it cook till it is soft.  Add a cup of water and bring to a boil.  Add to the boiling water one large peeled carrot and three peeled small potatoes chopped into small square shapes. When the potato is fork tender (doesn’t take too long) add one can of beef broth to the vegetables and meat and maybe a little more water; simmer for the flavors to mingle.  Serve with a salad, buttered roll makes a great lunch or supper.”

“I have a great Clam Chowder recipe,” Sarah said excitedly. “You take one or two slices of bacon cut in small bits (kitchen scissors work great) fry in a large pot.  Chop and peel a medium size onion and add to the bacon in the pot cook till soft. Drain the bacon fat. Peel and dice two medium potatoes add to the onion and bacon in the pot add two cups of water.  When potatoes are done, turn off the heat and let cool.  Pour entire mixture into a blender.  Add canned clams and clam juice and blend.  This makes a thick creamy soup with no heavy cream calories.  Return blended mixture to the pot, add two cups of milk and a cup of small baby shrimp (in a can) Heat till almost boil, but do not boil, add salt and white pepper to taste.

‘What were we talking about? That’s right, husbands…!”

Eileen Mintz and Norma Rosenthal are wish makers.

They are as fluctuating as light.  Charismatic and solemn, they accelerate around the room like a beacon.  They are high energy yet focused.

One generates confidence and experience but always in a contained way.  The other enthuses incorrigible. These two who seamlessly blend both of each other’s personalities make people delighted.

In just four years, these two moms have created an award-winning business that has allowed them to meet food greats, such as Julia Child and Wolfgang Puck.

Their business, Mintz/Rosenthal public relations and consulting, specializes in representing hotels, restaurants, chefs, and wineries. 

What is surprising, Mintz and Rosenthal have never had to solicit for business.  People call them strictly because of their reputation.  Mintz and Rosenthal have the gift of self-promotion and have it in splendid excess.

“We like to call ourselves wish maker,” Mintz says, “We love every aspect of our jobs, and we think and breathe the restaurants we represent 24 hours a day.”

Added Rosenthal, “We are great listeners, and when a restaurant owner tells us they want more customers, after really listening, we find out what they really want is to be in Gourmet magazine.”

“I feel as if we are sleuths, and each client is a chance to solve a puzzle,” said Mintz, who has a collection of over 900 cookbooks.

And they are incredibly passionate about their work, each other, their families, their favorite foods and well we could go on forever.

You can see by the way they light up a room unabashedly joyful.  Everyone, they meet seems to come away from an experience touched in some small way.

Even their mission statement reads just like something a mother would write. “Together, we have made a conscious decision to look for joy and happiness in life.”

They first met as volunteers on the board at their synagogue, but it was not until they found out they had both entered a cooking contest that they discovered their joint passions: food, people and fun.

“I loved Norma’s vivaciousness and creativity,” Mintz recalled.

‘And I loved that meeting Eileen gave me an opportunity to have an exciting career and not just feel like a housewife,” Rosenthal added.

When these two get together, there is no feeling of compromises- kind words and kind hearts- never a look, nod, word, always a harmony.

With their devotion as wives and mothers while balancing a work schedule that would exhaust most, they still volunteer for many social causes.

In a world that holds uninhibited idealism as somewhat suspect and more than a little annoying, Mintz and Rosenthal are refreshingly the real thing, and Seattle’s chefs can be thankful their wishes have come true.

Eileen Mintz’s Matzo Meal Bagels

½ cup of liquid oil

2 cups of water

1 and ½ cups matzo meal

½ teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons sugar or less if you desire

 5 large eggs

Dutch oven size pan for the stove top

Boil oil and water together. Add matzo meal, salt, and sugar.  Mix quickly with a wire whisk until well blended.  Pull off heat and set aside.  Stir until liquid is absorbed.

Cover the pan slightly and let the mixture stand until almost cool.

Using a hand mixer or a stand-up mixer add eggs carefully only one at a time.  Beat until light and fluffy.  Set aside.

Lightly grease two cookie sheets.  Drop from a spoon (about golf ball size or a little larger if you like a bigger bagel) onto the cookie sheet.  Wet fingers and push down to put a hole in the middle and help to form the bagel shape.

If desired to use as sandwich bread, smooth out to a square, press down and forget the hole.  Bake at 400 degrees about 40 to 60 minutes.  Makes 9 to 12 bagels.

Here’s a question: You are a published mystery writer.  But for 50 years you lived an unsolved mystery.

What do you do?

Like an old-fashioned homily, you turn a lemon into lemonade.

Bette Hagman had to grab the bull by the horns and be tenacious.  A solemn testament to her adaptability because Hagman suffers from a disease called Celiac Sprue, which is only cured by diet.

At 75, and looking smart in a white turtleneck sweater, blue jeans wrapped with a silver-buckled belt and a June Allyson hair cut.  Hagman is in demand as a speaker and adds more traveling to her already hectic schedule.

She is a member of “sisters in crime” an organization of mystery readers and writers.  However, it is her famous cookbooks that have unlocked a mystery for thousands of people.  As a Celiac, Hagman, cannot eat wheat, rye, barley, and oats because they contain gluten.  The immune system thinks of gluten as a foreign substance and attacks the intestines.

“This is my 25th-year anniversary of great living,” she says.

She pauses.

“Actually, I was a lousy cook, and it was embarrassment that was my final motivator,” recalls Hagman.

When she discovered that grocery stores didn’t sell any bread, pasta, pizza, cake or cookies without wheat, she tried to survive on rice cakes.

Hagman says with a sharp twinkle in her eye that there were times when if not for the love of her husband and daughter, she doubted she’d pull through.  She wanted to eat like a ‘real person’ and in doing that discovered that she would have to make up her own recipes.

Her first book took nine years to write.  But now just hand her a bag of gluten-free flour—no several different kinds—, and she can create anything from crackers to bread to cake or pizza.

Her sunny expression turns grim.  She recalls the years of mystery and misery that reached back to the early 1970s when she had withered away to 81 pounds.

Doctor after doctor had told her it was all in her head.  But never mind all that. Put the risks and worries aside Hagman was already instilled with the feeling of complete helplessness.

Always a ‘sickly child,’ she spent many days in bed, close to the bathroom.  Her immune system was turning against her own body.

She had never mentioned to the doctors the frequent bowel movements that led her to malnutrition and fatigue. (She had lived with this for so long, she thought it was normal.)

Already in her early 50’s and after a lifetime of not knowing what was happening to her-Hagman finds out that her mysterious illness has a name: Celiac Sprue.

Always hungry and never satisfied is one of the signs.  As a Celiac, you can eat mountains of food and still be literally starving to death because your body cannot get the nutrients out of the foods that you have eaten.

Nonetheless, she says, these were the beginning times that she had to learn to rise to the challenge.

“You can be completely overwhelmed by the restrictions in this diet,” Hagman says matter of factly.  ‘Yet you feel so lucky.  Finally, you know what is wrong, and you don’t need surgery, not even medication.  All you need is to avoid eating gluten.

Finding food that did not contain wheat was like going after ants with dynamite.

Hagman wonders aloud what life would have been if she had not met Elaine Hartsook.  Dr. Hartsook, a research dietitian at the University of Washington.  She was the original founder of The Gluten Intolerance Group of North America.

The group, still going strong after 23 years, meets the third Thursday of each month at Bellevue’s Overlake Hospital Medical Center.

With the help of the University of Washington’s diet kitchens, Dr. Hartsook created yeast-rising bread from rice flour and xanthan gum.  The late Dr. Hartsook spent her life’s study on people with gluten intolerance.

Hagman at the time was a writing teacher at Lake Washington Technical Colleg, and it just happened that six students in her classes had also discovered they were Celiacs.

All in the same boat, they started to exchange recipes.  Hagman had nothing to contribute.  She turned out inedible mess after mess and was feeding her omnivorous garbage disposal.

Considering herself a writer first, kitchen duty a necessary evil, she continued exchanging baking disaster stories with her students.  As to why she wrote a cookbook, Hagman has a heart felt answer.

“I was forced to cook if I wanted to enjoy eating, and in so doing got hooked on experimenting.”

Hagman quickly runs her fingers down over her chin and neck.  Her movements are fast, her energy unflagging.  Her first cookbook; The Gluten-Free Gourmet: Living Well Without Wheat.”

Is more than just a collection of recipes for in all of her books are short chapters on using the difficult flours of rice, tapioca, potato, bean, and sorghum.

There are hints on how to eat out, travel and even try to explain to friends why you can’t even taste, let alone, eat that wheat filled cake or cookie even if it was baked with love.

In a more serious tone, she lists “hidden” dangers that lurk in things like potato chips-which are dusted with wheat flour to “make them taste better”- the modified food starch (wheat flour) added to things like split pea soup to thicken it and reduce cooking time, confectioners sugar in Canada, which contains wheat flour.

So, a word of warning – don’t even eat the icing of the cake in Canada.

Hagman’s books, ‘Gluten-Free Gourmet: Delicious Dining Without Wheat” and “The Gluten-Free Gourmet Cooks Fast and Healthy,” have sold more than 112,000 copies.

But she does admit there is one thing missing: the time to write the great American murder mystery novel.

“Whatya mean by that?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I was just wondering.”

“Well. . .No, No, No, and a thousand times, NO!”

“Here it is almost two-plus weeks until the first day of spring and I would just…”

“NO”.

It happens every year.  The birds start singing, the sun is shining, and the house needs cleaning, and I get the fever.

Peeping out over my coffee cup, I yelled, “Look at that over there!!”

My husband jumped up. His hair is standing on end. “What is it!!”

“Over there in the corner can’t you see IT!!”

My husband slowly turned around and gave me the evil glare punctuated with “No way, just because there is a tiny bubble in the wallpaper in the left-hand corner we are not ordering new wallpaper.”

I never would have mentioned it, if it wasn’t for the fact I needed his help to put it up.  In all honesty, he is not always this grumpy but not my fault the dude has handyman skills.

With a big sigh, I rolled my eyes back to the ceiling.  When it hit me.  Of course the ceiling!  That was just the touch of spring my old kitchen needed.  Yes. We could wallpaper the ceiling.

I was so excited.  Bubbling with enthusiasm, I chattered away on how beautiful the room would look and how much bigger it would make the room feel.

My husband tilted his head towards me – dead silent.

I was all smiles.

Less than 24 hours later we started on the ceiling.  We placed two chairs back to back on the kitchen floor.  Standing on them I held the beginning strip of wallpaper, and my husband held the glue bucket.

We began with the 3 basic steps:

First: Slap glue on the ceiling.

Second: Swiftly fling wallpaper on glue.

Third:  Press like crazy.

Everything was going very smoothly ‘till we were in the middle of the ceiling.

Just as fast as you can say “Springtime,” the wallpaper started to fall down.

“QUICK grab that end,” yelled my handyman. “NO, NO, NO, not that end, THAT end!”

Trying not to fall off my chair my arms flying in all directions I swung the same when HM (handyman)swung the other.

The only thing left holding up the wallpaper was our heads.

It was a happy ending.  The wallpaper does look nice.  Only one thing we covered the acoustic ceiling. Every word sounds like we are in the Grand Canyoooooonnn.

For fun here is a recipe from 1887:

SPINACH

It should be cooked so as to retain its bright-green color, and not sent to table, as it so often is, of a dull-brown or olive color; to retain its fresh appearance, do not cover the vessel while it is cooking.

Spinach requires close examination and picking, as insects are frequently found among it, and it is often gritty. Wash it through three or four waters. Then drain it and put it in boiling water. Fifteen to twenty minutes is generally sufficient time to boil spinach. Be careful to remove the scum. When it is quite tender, take it up, and drain and squeeze it well. Chop it fine, and put it into a sauce-pan with a piece of butter and a little pepper and salt. Set it on the fire and let it stew five minutes, stirring it all the time, until quite dry. Turn it into a vegetable dish, shape it into a mound, slice some hard-boiled eggs and lay around the top.

Call me old-fashioned, but when the TV mini-series, ‘Scarlett’ recently ran I was close to devastated when I read she had a 21-inch waist.

That lead me directly to the tape measure where I whipped it around my middle and immediately fell into shock.

When I awoke, I found that my children found it funny to measure my head.  It was 22 inches.

Needless to say, I couldn’t shake the depression.  I can never get it right.  No, seriously, I am always a work in progress trying to improve my body and mind through new adventures.  The risk is great.

Sometimes you find yourself in Cinderella situation knowing that at midnight you’ll be back sweeping floors.

This is what happened to me recently.  It was the perfect beginning to the New Year holiday season and so far the best party of the year Woodinville’s Columbia Winery Winemaker Dinner. 

Just take a look at the menu:

The hors d’oeuvres:  Southwest Beef in Puff pastry, Jamaican Chicken Chalupas, Spicy Pesto Scallops in Phyllo.  All served with a ’93 Sauvignon.

The Salad:   Sea Bass Escabeche with Sweet Greens served with a ’93 Wyckoff Chardonnay

The TWO entrees:  Rhubarb Horseradish Stuffed Quail on top of a Wheat Berry Galette with  Cabernet poached pear served with a ’91 Cabernet Sauvignon.   Broiled Lamb Chops with a dried Cherry and Shiitake Mushroom Milestone Merlot Demi Glace, tarragon mashed potato, glazed pearl onion, and carrots, served with  ’92 Milestone Merlot.

TWO Desserts:  Asian Pear and Apricot Tart with Johannisburg Riesling, Almond sauce, served with  ’94 Cellarmaster’s Reserve—assorted Cheese and Chocolates served with an ’87 Red Willow Cabernet Sauvignon.

There I sat at the table surrounded by elegance, half-crazed with a desire to lick my plate.

Even more exciting was the fellow sitting at my right, David Lake, Winemaker, and my other six table mates all very serious enologicalists.

Enological?

Help! I desperately looked around for the exit so no one would see my glass slipper when I put my foot in my mouth. 

I thought what would Scarlett say?  “Fiddle De De… eno who?” feigning dizziness.  However, the passionate people at my table were more than delighted to share their enthusiasm:  Enological, the science of wine and wine making.

Lake spoke to me with an accent like James Bond and started the evening by standing in front of his guest.

Each table held eight, and all heads were turned to listen.  Lake welcomed Edmonds Community College’s John Casey, Management Service Instructor for the college’s Culinary Arts program. 

Lake explained that tonight was the opportunity to give the students a chance to practice what they had learned.  Thus, providing the evening’s Enological with the magic of pairing fine wine with excellent food.

As Lake spoke, 14 waitpersons began to serve.  Seventeen cooks in the kitchen;  all culinary students.   After a three-day preparation, they arrived at Columbia Winery kitchen with the production for the evening ready in hot boxes.  They began the culmination of their groundwork by preparing the finishing touches.

Walter Bronowitz, the Chef instructor of the culinary arts program and John Casey, were the creators of the menu.

“The menu was designed with the wines in mind,” Casey explained.  “Everyone has a different reaction to the incredible experience in one’s mouth when the wine is pared with food.  It creates an explosion in the mouth and the layers of flavor to some are dramatic, to others more sullen—but to all exciting.”

Lake began his career in Britain where in 1975 he passed a rigorous set of exams to become a ‘ Master of Wine’.  This is the most prestigious title in the world of wine and Lake is the only master of wine currently making wine in North America.

“Master of Wine’ is a false impression as no one ever truly masters wine, it is something that is forever expanding,” said Lake.

As we all raised our glasses in a toast to begin the meal. Lake explained, “That to release the bouquet swirl the wine in the glass – this gives pleasure to the nose.  You know wine delights all the senses—smell, taste, sight and since there is nothing for the ear, you touch classes so you can enjoy the ring.”

It was a wonderful party, and everybody can have a chance to feel like Cinderella.  By attending the next winemaker dinner at Columbia Winery.

To enhance your parties try these delightful wines.

Bon Appetit!

MERLOT (mair-low)  Aged lazily in oak.  This full-bodied red wine has a soft, woody disposition, at its best savored with hearty meals, pasta, meat and cheese.

CABERNET SAUVIGNON (Ka-bair-nay – So-veen-yon)  The robust, dry flavors are mellowed through extended oak aging and several years of bottle aging. This is the classic accompaniment to fine cuts of meat.

JOHANNISBURG RIESLING (Yo-hahn-is-burg Rees’-ling)  A crisp, fruity flavor of this classic lingers on the palate providing the perfect accompaniment for fowl and seafood.  Delightful as an aperitif.

FUME BLANCE (Foo’-may Blahnc)  This full bodied wine has an herbaceous aroma and flavor, mellowed by Limousin oak aging, crisp and dry.  An excellent complement to poultry and seafood.

SEMILLON-BLANC (She’mee-yahn Blanc) Herbaceous, apple like aromas harmonize with the delicate, dry flavor creating an ideal complement to fowl and shellfish. =

There’s a lot of talk about mankind and all of his failures, but why do so many things in our world work?

If people haven’t asked themselves these questions, they should: Why, when nature blows, the power out for three days, we cant live without our TV, microwaves, computer, we don’t consider what real horror is—living in the Middle Ages without hair conditioner.

We get angry at traffic jams and long lines at the grocery store.  However, would we really rather be trying to find a nut and berry out in the bog?

Never in the history of the world, has mankind ever stopped and patted himself on the back and said, “Good job. You never gave up.”

Answer me this.  Isn’t it time we started to have pride and shouldn’t we be proud of our neighbors like Bev and Elias Meiki?

Elias is from Lebanon, where Kahill   Gibran, the author of “The Prophet” was born (another amazing human) Elias has been in America for 13 years and is doing what humans do best—trying.

Bon d’ Elle is a line of gourmet foods that the couple has owned and operated since 1987. After many years of hard work, they were able to design and build a commercial kitchen in their home.

The kitchen is stocked like a miniature Middle Eastern Costco, with pounds of peeled garlic, small towers of sea salt, cases of frozen lemon juice and bags of garbanzo beans.

Elias and his family are taking a gamble that the food that he ate 10,714 miles away in his hometown will find its way on to our dinner table and that we will relish it a much as he did when he was a boy.

His mom would serve the roasted richness of Baba Gannoj and the exquisite tang of Tahini sauce mixed with molasses and used as a dip with pita bread.

“Were these the traditional foods your mother cooked for you when you were little?” I asked Elias as we all seated ourselves in the comfortable living room of their home.

“The same food that made me homesick.  I was 32 years old when I came to America.  I was very lonely and very hungry for my home food, so I learned to cook myself,” he explained, as he brushed his dark hair from his forehead.  “Our table at home was always laden with lost of vegetables, cheese, beans, and beer.”

“Little boys drink beer?” I questioned mischievously. Elias looked at Bev she was standing at the large picture window watching their two small children playing in the front yard. Pointing to his wife, Elias asked Bev if she would get the Arak.

‘In Lebanon,” continued Elias, ‘There are no age restrictions and children never abuse alcohol.”

Bev returned with a bottle with a lot of Arabic writing on the label. “You must try our national drink, Arak, it is 100 proof!” Elias chuckled.

I asked if it had been a dream to come to America and open his business.  Elias grinned and smiled at Beverly. “I had no plan to fall in love with an American citizen.” He smiled.

He took a deep breath, his voice touched with an accent and spoke softly and very slowly. “I lived in Lebanon for 30 years and two years in France when I followed my younger brother to here.  Bev and I met at the print shop where we both worked.  I would bring my dinner, and all the other employees always teased me about the unique and different foods I brought to work. But Bev found them very interesting an soon I brought a little extra to share.”

Bev shared that during their courtship she often helped Elias figure out the right spices to use in his dishes. Translating English by the smell and touch of the spice.

After marriage and children, they started contemplating a business out of their home. “We believe in a close family,” Elias said confidently as he led the way downstairs toward their commercial kitchen.

“This is where we make our Bon d’Elie frozen food products,” Elias said, ushering me toward an enormous wok (big enough to sit in).

“Our most popular product is our Garlic Sesame Tahini sauce which has many uses.”

“Here is a taste,” Bev said, as she came over with a spoon.

“Garlicky,’ I smiled.

Just before I left, Elias looked around at his clean, bright, fresh smelling kitchen.  He saw the refrigerator and brought out their newest product, Falafel, which is not a dip but can be shaped like a pattie, fried or baked in a muffin pan.  It is rolled on top of pita bread like a sandwich, with or without tomatoes and lettuce.

“For you,” Elias said, as he generously offered me samples of all his product line.

As my car pulled out of the driveway, I thought how thankful I was that someone rolled up their sleeves and invented the freezer and all the other goodies of modern life that our ancestors had made a stab out of trying something else one day instead of the same old nut and berry.

If you are a lover of garlic, you will most certainly enjoy Lebanese food.  Here is a dish Bev serves her family often.  Eaten hot or cold it is called;

LUBIA

12-16 oz Frozen green beans

20 oz can chopped tomatoes plus three large ripe, peeled and sliced tomatoes

1 whole head of garlic with each clove peeled

1 large onion

1 tablespoon olive oil

½ tablespoon tomato paste

One cup water

Chop onion and brown in olive oil until clear. Add all of the garlic – brown together.  Add frozen green beans.  Stir until soft and done.  Add tomatoes.  Salt to taste. Cook 10 minutes.  Add tomato paste and water.  Let simmer on medium.  Add more paste or water as needed.

It’s a pleasant, wet and rainy day, and I am standing in a semicircle of approximately 133 “you cut ’em” Christmas trees.

My husband is running with a saw blade in his left hand, a blue tarp in his right hand, and a translucent look in his eyes.  Evidently, he has spotted yet another tree that might meet his specific conditions.

My 7-year old daughter is lying on the ground at my feet, moaning deliriously that she is “tree sick.”  Her tiny limp body is lying quietly as she explains that after rows and rows of trees she can no longer muster the energy to walk another step.

I don’t know about you, but when I go to ‘cut’em” I don’t waste a lot of time. I stride briskly to the most attractive tree standing and shout, “Here!”

Your professional Christmas tree cutter (husband), on the other hand, does not even think about cutting until he has conducted a complete tree study of the site. Circling the selected tree warily, as though it were an alien space-ship; checking it out from every possible angle; squatting and squinting; finger in the air checking the wind, feeling the needles, analyzing the distance from the road to the truck, back to the tree.

And so, amid an atmosphere of unbearable tension, comparable to not being able to find your car keys when you are already late to that very important meeting, my daughter and I wait, and wait, and wait.

By now our daughter is trying to make snow angels in the mud, and I am unbelievably letting her.  I see other families in the tree farm.  They’re staring intently at trees way off in the distance, but I think they’re staring at us.  We have been here so long.

I think about grabbing my daughter’s hand and pulling her up to her feet and taking her down the hill for our third cup of hot cider and her second candy cane, but too late, she has been entertaining the crowds by holding her breath as she runs up and down the tree rows.

The more time that passed with virtually nothing happening, the more excited I got about that cider.  I started down the hill when suddenly I heard a loud, long, whopping yelp that I recognized as my husband.

I turned to see him stand up, wipe tree pitch off his hands, and in a voice that would have made a gold digger stop, announced, “This …is the tree.”

There it stood in all of its glory-all 14 feet of it.

“That’s too big,” I said.

“Not so,” he said. “I will trim off the bottom.  You’ll see.”

“Don’t you remember last year?” I asked.  “It was too big; you did not trim enough.”

“Did so.”

“Did not.”

“Did so.”

“Did not.”

“Did.”

“Not!”

Like anything else, success depends on the proper tools, so in the back of our truck is an assortment of many saws, blue tarps, gloves, rope and any necessity to fall Paul Bunyan’s tree.

“Quick, run back to the truck and pick out the yellowed handled two blade milliliter saw.  Oh, and by the way, grab me a cider,” he says with a big smile.

Rolling my eyes back in my head and shrugging my shoulders, I approached the tree surgeon punched him in the arm where he pretended to be knocked into the fir tree, and I headed to the car trying to consider the many, many complex factors involved in the “you cut ’em tree man.

This is, after all, a once a year experience.  And this tree-prepare to experience a heart tremor- was home cut.  How were we going to get it in the truck, let alone through the front door?  At least when I finally do get home, I can make a nice hot cup of:

HOT SPICY APPLE CIDER

Six cups apple cider, one cinnamon stick, 1/4 cup honey, 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, three tablespoons lemon juice, one teaspoon lemon rind, one can (2-1/2 cups) unsweetened pineapple juice.

Heat cider and cinnamon stick in a large pan.  Bring to a boil and simmer covered for 5 minutes.  Add remaining ingredients and simmer uncovered 5 minutes longer.

SIMPLY DELICIOUS EGGNOG

One egg, two tablespoons sugar, 1 cup chilled milk, 1/4 teaspoon vanilla.  Beat egg and sugar together.  Beat in milk and vanilla.  Serve cold in a tall glass sprinkled lightly with nutmeg.  Serve immediately

Note:  This column published in Sandra Haldeman Martz of Papier-Mache Press,  anthology “There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays”. A book signing and reading held at two Barnes & Noble bookstores.

Do you remember your last family meeting?  You all exchanged sheepish glances, a chair scraped the floor, a relative started to get up, then sat down, and finally, you stood up.

You had been busy keeping your child’s fingers out of Uncle Bud’s toupee and missed the part about the first person to stand up would be cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year.

Not to panic you but when was the last time you made gravy?  You say you can not remember?  Unless you grew up in Erma Bombeck’s family where gravy was considered a beverage you may have only made it twice in a whole year.

No other holiday feast celebrates the importance of good gravy and not to put a large guilt complex on you but pay attention here; we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.

Lumpy, bumpy, pale, or runny gravy does not have to be!  Give yourself a little time and try this quick practice recipe.  Take one tablespoon butter, one tablespoon flour, and one cup chicken broth.  Heat the butter in a skillet when melted, slowly sprinkle the flour on top and stir with a wire whisk briskly until the flour and butter are well blended.  Stir in vigorously your cup of broth and cook on medium heat.

Now don’t run off and do a load of laundry.  It’s when you turn your back that the lumps emerge.  It honestly doesn’t take much time, just a lot of patience.  You need to stand by your gravy and stir it—constantly.

Now, if you have kept stirring you should have smooth and thickened consistency—and really it took you the length of one song on the radio.  And without even knowing it, you have also learned the basic rules for creating any brown sauce and the versatile cream sauce: white sauce.

Butter, flour, and milk create a white sauce nothing short of miraculous for there is no end to its variations and uses.  One tablespoon of flour for one cup of liquid gives a thin white sauce.  Three tablespoons of flour for one cup of liquid will provide a very thick white sauce.  Remember that the sauce thickens immediately after the flour is added, with patient stirring, of course.

Now don’t be flatten by Aunt Em’s pesky eyes over your shoulder on Thanksgiving, make our gravy the night before!  It will be our secret but believe me; you don’t have to wait for the drippings in the pan to have rich dark brown gravy.

The 1950’s moms knew that before there was Kitchen Bouquet the only way to get that nice rich brown color in gravy was to cook the flour thoroughly with the fat.

After taking the cooked turkey out of its roasting pan, all the juices from the pan are poured into a cup so that the fat would rise.  The roasting pan is set on the stove over low heat, and about four tablespoons of fat are added, stirred and cooked while the brown bits left in the pan are loosened.

The ¼ teaspoon of sugar added (to help with the flavor and browning) cooked and stirred until brown.  One quarter cup flour was added to the fat and slowly stirred until a rich, dark brown.  The heat increased until the gravy was at the boiling point, still stirring.  Then the heat is lowered, and the gravy left to simmer 5 minutes.  Seasoned with salt and pepper.

Unfortunately, today we are all too aware of fat.  Are you afraid of gravy because of the fat?  Believe me; you can still make a great gravy with some or none of the fat.

Next time you roast a chicken, take ½ cup chicken bouillon and ¼ cup water mixed.  Spoon this over your chicken every 15 minutes during the cooking.  After taking the cooked chicken out of the roaster, add the juice of one lemon to the drippings in the pan.  Scrape and stir then season to taste.  Easy gravy.

For a clear gravy, perfect over a frittata, use either chicken or beef bouillon and thicken it not with flour but with one tablespoon cornstarch.

To make gravy for stews just mix measured flour and cold water.  I prefer to use cold milk or even cream to make a smooth paste.  Pour this mixture into your stew, cook until thick.

EASY LOW-FAT GRAVY

4 cups chicken broth

½ cup dry white wine

¼ cup water

1/3 cup cornstarch

½ teaspoon pepper

In a saucepan, mix cornstarch with ¼ cup water until smooth; add broth, wine, and pepper.  Stir over high heat until boiling, keep stirring about five minutes.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  For a roast use beef broth and red wine.

Be creative with your gravies, don’t just season with salt and pepper.  Try adding thyme, marjoram, lemon juice, red wine or even a trace of instant coffee.  It will make any meal special.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

To me, now and forever, I promise to be socially responsible and have enough self-respect that I will not ever lie in a comatose state for five days due to uncontrolled candy eating from the Trick or Treat bag.

There are no records to prove it, mind you. However, I have every reason to believe that the days after Halloween not only get darker and shorter; but the mixed consumption of Snickers, Mars, and Milkyway (all consumed at the same time by millions of people on the same night) put added weight on the earth’s axle spinning everyone on the planet with optimal velocity into. . . The Holidays.

Soon our days will be spent with good food and good conversations. Our appetites titillated with enormous feasts.  As a host, we need more than anything to be able to relax and enjoy these special moments. Difficult after having raised our blood pressure to new heights due to being tricked into eating Halloween candy! It is close to November, and we are recovering so we need to restore our enthusiasm for the plunge into holiday eating.

But stop right there, because the fact is, like a lot of us, I need to regain my composure and adding there are ONLY 68 DAYS ‘TIL CHRISTMAS. We have got to paint the living room, sew drapes, hook a carpet, make matching outfits and bake!  We cannot cook last years’ appetizer again for this year’s party. Help!

Feeling flushed and breathless I found myself searching for recipes and found them last Saturday at the Great American Cookbook show held at Woodinville’s Columbia Winery.   Led through the front door of the winery I could feel myself begin to relax as I entered a room with two huge, beautiful chandeliers, chamber music playing softly and a roaring fire in the fireplace.

French patio doors opened into the gift shop, and Northwest authors cookbooks arranged attractively on roundtables throughout the room.
Many local books were on display, from Jeff Smith’s The Frugal Gourmet Celebrates Christmas to Junior League of Seattle to Pike Place Market Cookbook, by Braiden Rex-Johnson.

Sampling Gratin of Apricots with Rum ( a French dessert) I spoke with Steve Taylor who was autographing his book, Dining Ethnic Around Puget Sound.

“A Whitman sample of 125 restaurants and 235 recipes,” Taylor said. Showing me his book, he explained that a portion of the proceeds from the sale of the book goes to Northwest Harvest, a leading hunger response program in Washington state. “A book about fine dining to benefit those that don’t have enough to eat.’’

He and his wife, Mary, spent many hours researching opinions of others and reading restaurant reviews to find the best restaurant. They then mailed letters to restaurants expecting a flood of return mail, only a trickle returned. English is a second language to many ethnic restaurants and translating some of the letters and also downsizing complicated recipes was a real challenge.

A mix of Jewish, Creole, Indian, French and Vietnamese recipes, to name a few, and a fabulous glossary of ethnic ingredients, I highly recommend for entertaining guests with unique dishes over the holidays.

How were 1,000 books selected? ‘It started with a list of 2,400 books from Pacific Pipeline distributor,” said Peggy Rawson, Culinary Director for Columbia Winery.   Rawson started at Columbia when it was called Associated Vintners, which is still the name of the parent company, which just recently purchased Paul Thomas Winery.

In a short amount of time, she was expecting 260 people from the Spirit of Washington dinner train to disembark and attend the cookbook show. With her bubbly enthusiasm and still very pronounced English accent she sets a mood of excitement that runs throughout the winery.  When asked what her official title designation was, she asked if I had brought a lot of paper. Her work week is sometimes 80 hours. She has an extensive background in catering having owned and operated Penny Farthing Catering for many years where her food and wine pairing had quite a reputation.

She even created the recipes for the neck hangers you find on Columbia wine, which can be quite a challenge when she only has three inches of space, she has to find a recipe that has 10 or fewer ingredients.  Head of procurement several times for KTCS pledges, her passion for enjoying good causes an interesting people gives Penny the spirit to walk up to celebrities like Graham Kerr, introduce herself and end up maintain a lasting friendship. She has even found time to have a restaurant review column that runs in the Journal-American every Friday.

Her reviews have an incredible following, and sometimes the restaurants are not prepared for the double in business when she gives a five-star review. Always thinking of the public first, she tries to give an honest view of the food, and with her background in wine and food, she is a natural reviewer.

Few things are as pleasant as a recipe that can be an appetizer for your first-holiday party or even turn into the main course. Enjoy serving one of Penny’s recipes for your first-holiday party and relax.

PENNY RAWSON’S BAKED SHRIMP
An appetizer serves 12-15. Will feed 6-8 if served as a main course.

¼ cup oil
¼ cup Columbia Chardonnay
¼ cup finely chopped parsley
Three large garlic cloves, minced
One teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
One teaspoon dried tarragon
½-one teaspoon Tabasco
2 lbs uncooked large shrimp (24-36 count)
¼ cup toasted breadcrumbs
¼ cup grated parmesan

Preheat oven to 400F. Combine first seven ingredients in a two-quart baking dish. Add shrimp and mix well. Sprinkle toasted bread crumbs and grated parmesan over shrimp. Bake 10-15 minutes, then serve immediately on toothpicks as appetizers or over pasta for a substantial lunch or supper dish.