Spring

Turing the corner

Overstayed, has been your residency

Roughed up, we all have been

Welcome the change

Slowly we’ll transit and blossom

Oatmeal Bread - yields 12 slices

1-cup oat bran

1-1/3-cups whole-wheat flour

2-1/4 teaspoons baking powder

¼-teaspoon baking soda

½-teaspoon salt

½-cup old-fashioned rolled oats

1-cup vanilla flavored non-fat yogurt

1-large egg

¼-cup canola oil

¾-cup soy milk

1-tablespoon honey

Pre-heat the oven to 375-degrees.

Grease a 9x5 loaf pan.

Using a whisk stir the oatmeal, whole-wheat flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt to thoroughly combine.

In a bowl mix the old-fashioned oats, yogurt, egg, canola oil, soy milk and honey to combine.

Mix the yogurt mixture into the flour to just combined. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan.

Bake in the oven for 45 to 50 minutes, or until a cake tester inserted in the center of the loaf comes out clean. Shut off the oven, and allow the bread to cool in the oven.

Run a knife along the sides, and invert the bread onto a wire rack – let the bread completely cool before slicing.

It will happen

Winter seems to be taking a long exhale making so many of us sit in amazement of its depth of breath. There are signs though that soon this season will be winded, with the emergence patches of crocus and daffodils that are being spotted here and there. The chives in the garden that went to ground last fall have erupted and are showing evidence that a winter’s slumber has done it well, renewed stronger and larger than before. Nor, am I surprised by the survival of my loveage, sorrel andlemon balm, though I dare not snip a leaf before they fully re-established. My tray of moist, nutrient-dense earth is dotted wispy sprouts activated in part by the direction and intensity of the sun. The volume that has peaked through amazes me, and I believe the garden is large enough to accommodate these future residents. I have the greatest hopes for the artichoke seeds that are barely breaking the soil. This will be my first time growing the thistle and I hope I do it well, and if it does, I will rue the fact that I am starting with only four plants.

One thing is for sure, the cycle of the seasons will march on; my sprouts will flourish and fruit, and I will create provisions to get me through another vernal equinox. Today, I live in the marvel of life’s return and the promise a sprout can give.

Pressed Sandwich – yields 4

Ciabatta bread (1 pound loaf – approx. 10-inches long)

2-tablespoons Dijon style mustard

6-ounces thinly sliced Black Forrest ham

4-ounces sprouts – such as alfalfa, radish or broccoli

¼-pound tomato  - thinly sliced

10 basil leaves – roughly torn

Freshly ground black pepper

Cut the loaf of bread in half, and remove the doughy center.

Spread the mustard across one half of the ciabatta. Then lay down half of the ham. Spread the sprouts out over the ham and then arrange the slice tomatoes over them, season with black pepper. Lay down the remaining ham, and distribute the torn basil leaves over it. Top with the other half of ciabatta, and wrap the sandwich securely in plastic wrap.

Place the sandwich on a baking tray or cutting board, ideally, put a 10-inch cast iron skillet on top of the sandwich to weight it down. Refrigerate the sandwich this way for 12 to 24 hours.

Remove from the refrigerator, and unwrap. Cut the sandwich into 4 pieces approximately 2-inches wide.

Leafy Joy

I am asked frequently what my last meal would be, and my answer does tend to disappoint. I love a salad. From baby greens tossed with Meyer lemon juice and a Sicilian extra virgin olive oil to a Romaine hearts with a Humbolt Fog blue cheese to a Cobb salad on a bed of peppery arugula. I am always satisfied by a salad and never quite got the concept that this was “diet” food.

Clearly, this leafy obsession can be traced back to my mom – nightly, she would lay a salad bowl on the table no matter what the night’s meal consisted of, and we got an array of salad dressing to choose from: French, Russian, Green Goddess and Zesty Italian where drizzled over various plates. Nine times at of ten I went for the Green Goddess with the occasional yearning for Italian. Today, I could not image bottled dressing on my table but I definitely continue my mother’s tradition of a nightly salad. While I could munch away on a head of any leaf, save iceberg, which has not made its way back into my crisper, I married a man that does not share my love of a bowl of leaves.

So, in an effort to please us both I add artichokes, cucumbers, olives, or jicama, anything to give him more texture and allow me to have forkfuls of lettuce. Okay, and I am also trying to get more salad into his diet, and making sure he will be there to that last meal.

                                                                       Cobb Salad – serves 4

2-eggs

6-cups packed, torn arugula  (or any leafy salad green)

4 slices cooked bacon – crumbled

1-pound tomato – chopped

½-pound roast turkey - chopped

1-avocado - diced

1-English cucumber – chopped

Freshly ground black pepper

½-cup lemon juice (from approx. 2 lemons)

In a 1-quart saucepan place the eggs, and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil over a high flame, and cook for 7 minutes. Remove from the flame, and allow it to sit for a few minutes. Remove the eggs from the water, and peel.

Chop the eggs.

On a platter, or individual plates place the lettuce. Then arrange the bacon, tomato, turkey, avocado and cucumber over the lettuce strips so that each item is completely visible. Season the salad with black pepper. Then drizzle over the lemon juice.