There Is Theater In These Woods

We were on our way to Stagenorth to see Oklahoma! when we saw this bear about 4 blocks from the theater. A black bear sighting on the way to the theater— only in Northern Wisconsin.

Meghan is in the chorus with her best friend, Emily. This is her second performance and she loves it.

As I sat in the theater, I recognized so many of the faces— my kid's music teacher, Bill the wine guy, friends of Will and Sadie. What a treasure to have Stagenorth in Washburn, it truly is a community theater.

The talent in this area is astounding. My good friend, Liz, is the director. She has directed many productions at Stagenorth and her expertise is evident— Oklahoma! is a polished musical full of beautiful costumes, voices and characters.

Porchetta For A Pagan Dinner

The last Wednesday of every month is PDC (Pagan Dinner Club). I am game for anything that involves food, wine and conversation around a table. Plus, I have always felt a little pagan. Last November, I opened my issue of Bon Appetit and saw the sexiest piece of meat I have ever seen— Porchetta (take a look at the recipe and picture here).  For the past six months, that lovely piece of pork loin wrapped in pork belly would start calling my name but I never pulled the trigger. Until last Wednesday. It was my turn to host dinner and I knew exactly what to make, the porchetta of my dreams.  I followed the recipe to the letter except I used a full loin and pork belly and adjusted the spices and garlic accordingly. It was an extraordinary piece of meat— tender, flavorful and sexy.

What else does one serve with a massive amount of pork wrapped in luscious pork belly? Why, fingerling potatoes and sweet onions roasted in duck fat with pancetta and a Caesar salad (I forgot the anchovies) with croutons sautéed in olive oil and the drippings from the porchetta. Those croutons were a stroke of genius, one I intend to repeat over and over. I tossed the potatoes in duck fat and roasted them at 400 degrees for about 30 - 35 minutes on parchment paper. I laid pancetta on top about 10 minutes before they were done and crumbled it after I pulled them out of the oven. Duck fat is magic, the potatoes had the most delectable crust— amazing.

We drank a wine from the Piedmont, Cascina del Pozzo Lucrezia Barbera d'Alba. It was perfect with the pork— dry and elegant with subtle fruit notes. It was a little richer in body than other Barberas I have tasted and I really enjoyed it.

There are a few meals I have put together that stand out and this is definitely one of them. Not only was it a good meal, it was an even better evening filled with people I have come to adore. Jim Henson said, 'there's not a word yet, for old friends who've just met'. Ted and I are still new-comers to Bayfield, we have only been here for five years. As I looked around the table, I had a strong feeling that my fellow pagan dinner companions are indeed old friends we have just met.  I have been blessed many times over in my life with beautiful memories of children, family and friends around my table— it is no small thing to share a meal with those you love. I believe it creates a sacred space in our lives which is truly nourishing.

California Pinot Meets French Burgundy

Admittedly, I am a novice when it comes to wine knowledge. Everything I have learned has come from 'on the job' training, not that I am complaining. Drinking wine is hardly a chore. Pinot Noir is one of my favorite wines and I am always on the look out for a good bottle. The 2008 Talbott 'Sleepy Hollow' Pinot is a great bottle of wine, I mean it is a 'I am still thinking about it the next morning' bottle. Bob, my wine loving friend, was coming to dinner and I was excited to open a bottle and get his opinion. As it happened, he had a bottle of 2005 Andre Ziltener Burgundy in his hands when he walked in the kitchen. This was the perfect opportunity to taste a California Pinot against a French Burgundy.

The verdict? Talbott is a smooth, kind of flashy and relatively full-bodied Pinot— kind of like a really nice Lexus. The Andre Ziltener is a more nuanced Pinot with a depth and patina that reminded me of a classic old Mercedes in mint condition. The French have made wine for centuries and it makes sense I would taste the 'terrior' in the Ziltener wine. Maybe terrior tastes like a beautiful old Mercedes?? Regardless, I enjoyed both wines and hope to meet them again some day.

Sunday Photo Safari & Souffle

Sunday photo safari is becoming a regular thing. We grab our cameras, hop in the car and head out to parts unknown. Last week, we went down Star Route, took a right on a logging road and kept our eyes peeled for a place to stop. Adventures are a good way to stay connected— we talk about school, what pictures we want to take, if we should take George next time, where they want to go to college, what I am making for dinner. As they get older, I feel the quiet coming. I want to embrace the chaos, noise and beautiful mess with both arms while I still can. Photos give us instant access to moments in time and I am so thankful for these moments with my kids.

We were looking for an abandoned house or barn but settled for a bunch of rusty stuff in a field. We didn't run into any wild animals, snakes or hornet's nests— success as far as I am concerned.

When I told the kids I was making blue cheese souffle for dinner, I heard crickets. They had quesadillas and Ted and I ate souffle, it worked out well. It is the perfect dinner with a green salad, a baguette and good butter.

Ina Garten's Blue Cheese Souffle

3 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus extra for greasing the dish

1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan, plus extra for sprinkling

3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1 cup scalded milk

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Pinch cayenne pepper

Pinch nutmeg

4 extra-large egg yolks, at room temperature

3 ounces good blue cheese, chopped

5 extra-large egg whites, at room temperature

1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Butter the inside of an 8-cup souffle dish (7 1/2 inches in diameter and 3 1/4 inches deep) and sprinkle evenly with parmesan.

Melt the butter in a small saucepan over low heat. With a wooden spoon, stir in the flour and cook, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes. Off the heat, whisk in the hot milk, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, the cayenne, and nutmeg. Cook over low heat, whisking constantly, for 1 minute, until smooth and thick.

Off the heat, while still hot, whisk in the egg yolks, one at a time. Stir in the blue cheese and the 1/4 cup of Parmesan and transfer to a large mixing bowl.

Put the egg whites, cream of tartar, and a pinch of salt in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat on low speed for 1 minute, on medium speed for 1 minute, then finally on high speed until they form firm, glossy peaks.

Whisk 1/4 of the egg whites into the cheese sauce to lighten and then fold in the rest. Pour into the souffle dish, then smooth the top. Draw a large circle on top with the spatula to help the souffle rise evenly, and place in the middle of the oven. Turn the temperature down to 375 degrees F. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes (don't peek!) until puffed and brown. Serve immediately.

Homemade Mustard

I am a condiment hoarder, everything from Thai fish sauce to horseradish. While I don't discriminate and embrace all condiments, mustard has a special place in my heart and refrigerator. A few weeks ago, I started to wonder about making my own mustard. It turns out, it is amazingly simple— buy mustard seeds (yellow and brown), add liquid, some herbs or other flavorings, let it sit for a few days, put it in the blender (a food processor does not work) and you have fresh mustard.

I was at my favorite grocery store in Duluth, Mount Royal, and spied a pile of fresh horseradish. I knew my initial foray into mustard making was imminent. I grabbed some fresh herbs and pâté (my preferred mustard delivery system) and headed back to Bayfield. I looked at a number of different recipes and realized the room for creativity was immense. I settled on two mustards: fresh herb and garlic and horseradish and Calvados. I learned one interesting fact during my research— you must use cold liquid to preserve the pungency of the mustard seeds. If the seeds are heated, the flavor will be muted and less spicy. Homemade mustard was a revelation— spicy, creamy and fresh. I am afraid this may have opened a whole new avenue for my condiment fascination.

Horseradish and Calvados Mustard

6 tablespoons yellow mustard seeds

2 tablespoons brown mustard seeds

4 tablespoons Calvados brandy

5 tablespoons fresh horseradish, grated with a Microplane grater

2/3 cup white wine vinegar

1/3 cup water, cold

1/8 cup light brown sugar

1 teaspoon salt

Put mustard seeds, water, Calvados, horseradish and vinegar in a bowl and stir to completely submerge seeds. Cover and let sit at room temperature 2 to 3 days.

Whirl mustard mixture in a blender with brown sugar and salt until smooth.

Make ahead: 2 weeks, covered and chilled.

Fresh Herb and Garlic Mustard

6 tablespoons yellow mustard seeds

2 tablespoon brown mustard seeds

2 teaspoons minced fresh thyme

2 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary

3 cloves of garlic, minced

2/3 cup apple cider vinegar

2/3 cup water

1 teaspoon light brown sugar

3/4 teaspoon salt

Stir together mustard seeds, thyme, rosemary, garlic, water, and the vinegar in a bowl until seeds are submerged. Let sit at room temperature, covered, 2 to 3 days.

Put mustard mixture in a blender along with brown sugar and salt and blend until mixture is thick but still coarse-textured.

Make ahead: 2 weeks, covered and chilled.

A Proper Chicken Caesar Salad

I was curious if there were other mavens out there, did a quick google search and ran across the Food Maven last week. I spent a little while exploring his maven-ness (he has two kitchens). He had a recipe for Chicken à la King (my quintessential childhood meal) and Jamie Oliver's recipe for a Proper Chicken Caesar Salad. I am a big fan of anything proper and I needed an idea for Saturday night dinner— sounded like a plan. One of my favorite roasted chicken recipes is Ina Garten's Lemon Chicken with Croutons and this recipe is the salad version. The croutons are addictive, full of roasted chicken flavor and lemon. I made a few additions to the original recipe: roasted Roma tomatoes, preserved lemons, onion and lots more garlic in the dressing. Ted said it was the best salad I have ever made.  

Proper Chicken Caesar Salad (adapted from Jamie Oliver)

8 - 10 Roma tomatoes, halved and roasted

6 whole chicken thighs, skin on

1 loaf ciabatta bread, torn into thumb-sized pieces

3 sprigs fresh rosemary, leaves picked and roughly chopped

1 whole preserved lemon, rinsed and chopped

1 whole sweet onion, chopped

Olive oil

Herb and garlic salt (recipe here) or sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

12 thin slices pancetta

Dressing

4 cloves peeled garlic

6 anchovy fillets in olive oil, drained

7 ounces freshly grated Parmesan, plus a few shavings to serve

3 heaped tablespoon crème fraîche

2 lemon, juiced

Extra-virgin olive oil

2 or 3 heads romaine lettuce, outer leaves discarded

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Cut the tomatoes in half, drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Roast until brown and caramelized, about 30 - 45 minutes.

Place the torn up pieces of ciabatta, rosemary, preserved lemon and onion in a bowl. Drizzle with olive oil, salt and pepper and place in a roasting pan. Place the chicken thighs on top of the bread mixture and season with salt and pepper. This way, the bread will soak up all the lovely juices from the chicken, giving you the best croutons! Pop the pan into the preheated oven.

After about 45 minutes the chicken should be nicely cooked. Take the pan out of the oven, drape the pancetta over the chicken and croutons, and put back for another 15 to 20 minutes for everything to crisp up. The chicken legs are ready when you can pinch the meat off the bone easily. When they're cooked, remove the pan from the oven and set it aside for the chicken to cool down slightly. If the croutons are not crisp, put them back in the oven for an additional 10 - 15 minutes.

Place the garlic, anchovy fillets, Parmesan, crème fraîche and lemon juice in a food processor or blender and pulse to combine. With the machine running, add 3 times as much extra virgin olive oil as lemon juice in a steady stream and process until thick and smooth. Season dressing with salt and pepper.

Pull the chicken meat off the leg bones - you can use 2 forks to do this, or your hands if you're tough like me - and tear it up roughly with the croutons and the bacon. Wash, spin dry and separate the romaine, tear them up and toss with the chicken, croutons, bacon and dressing. Scatter with some Parmesan shavings and roasted tomatoes.

The 2010 Talbott Sleepy Hollow Chardonnay was the perfect wine for this salad. In my experience, California chardonnay can be a mouthful of buttery oak. This wine shattered that preconceived notion. It is a rich, lush chardonnay with a long bright finish. Makes me want to have a proper caesar salad again soon!

An Ode To George

I was in Ironwood Michigan for a swim meet with the kids three years ago and I forgot to bring snacks. A trip to the grocery store was in order. As I headed into the Super One, a poster on the community message board caught my eye— three darling little labrador puppies. I exercised some restraint and walked into the store without the phone number. My restraint beat a hasty retreat in the granola bar aisle, I paid for my groceries and wrote down the number (just in case I needed a lab puppy). After consulting the kids, I decided I needed a puppy and made the phone call. I did not, however, call Ted. First rule of healthy marital relations— always consult Ted before procuring a puppy. It all worked out in the end and George is a stellar member of the Dougherty family.

Ten reasons why George is my favorite (don't tell the Cavaliers, thank God they can't read).

1. He has a big, blocky head.

2. He knows how to open large jars of peanut butter.

3. When you ask him if he is hungry, he runs to the garbage can.

4. He likes to ride shotgun, with the seat warmer on.

5. There are at least 100 tennis balls in my house and in the yard.

6. He knows how to source his own food in the kitchen.

7. He loves Will.

8. He likes to carry around my Tory Burch Reva flats in his mouth (I think he pretends they are a duck and he is a hunting dog).

9. The beach is his idea of Nirvana.

10. He thinks 'sit' means drop the ball (sometimes).

Beach Day With The Boys

Where's the ball? It's cold in here.

 

Ted and George on a driftwood littered beach.

Henry strikes a pose.

An embrace in wood.

Henry and Gus in the surf.

Cheesecake Nirvana

I am not much of a baker. I like recipes that are more of a suggestion with room for creativity. Baking requires paying attention to details and following directions— not my strongest suits. My Mom is a fantastic baker and excels at sugar cookies, cakes, cinnamon rolls and pies. If it involves flour, sugar and baking powder, she is the master. Clearly, baking skills are not genetic or they skip a generation. Either way, she is the baker in the family and I am the cooker. She sent up a couple dozen of peanut butter cookies a few weeks ago and we were so excited to have Nana's cookies in the house! George was pretty excited too, he ate all of them. I swear he has Special Ops skills when it comes to sourcing his own food.

I made my first cheesecake about 15 years ago for Easter dinner and I was scared. Scared of crevasses across the top and jiggling middles. I had experienced cheesecake nirvana at Cafe Latte many times before and was feeling a little uneasy with my skills. I settled on the recipe from the Joy Of Cooking and forged bravely ahead. Let's just say, at least it tasted good. I made a couple more attempts over the years but eventually decided to leave it to the professionals at Cafe Latte.

Fast forward 10 years, Cafe Latte is 250 miles from Bayfield, I had mascarpone in the refrigerator and I wanted cheesecake. I started my search from scratch for the perfect non-baker's cheesecake. Gourmet magazine had a recipe that fit the bill: vanilla wafer crust (no rolling-pin required), mascarpone and a sour cream topping to hide any and all crevasses. I made a few changes (I like to be creative) and voilà, cheesecake nirvana. I was distracted while baking the crust and it is a little darker than it should be. In the cooking world, we call that caramelized.

Crust 1 box of vanilla wafers, finely ground in a food processor 1 sticks  (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

Filling 3 packages of cream cheese, softened 8 oz mascarpone cheese at room temperature (about 1  cup) 3/4 cup sugar

3 large eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

1 1/2 tsp grated lemon zest

1/4 teaspoon salt

Topping 1 cup sour cream

1/4 cup sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 tsp lemon oil

1/8 teaspoon salt

Make crust

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350°F. Butter bottom and  side of a 9-inch springform pan.

Stir together cookie crumbs and butter in a bowl. Reserve 1/4 cup crumb  mixture for sprinkling over cheesecake, then pat remainder onto bottom and 1 1/2  inches up side of springform pan (about 1 inch thick). Put pan in a shallow  baking pan and bake until golden, about 10 minutes. Cool completely on a rack,  about 25 minutes. Leave oven on.

Make filling while crust bakes

Beat cream cheese, mascarpone, and sugar in a large bowl with an electric  mixer at medium high speed until fluffy, 3 to 5 minutes. Add eggs 1 at a time,  beating well after each addition. Add vanilla, lemon juice, lemon zest and salt and mix at low speed until combined. Pour into cooled crust and bake until cake is set and  puffed around edge but still trembles slightly when pan is shaken gently, 30 to 40 minutes. Cool slightly in springform pan on rack, about 20 minutes.  (Cheesecake will continue to set as it cools.) Leave oven  on.

Make topping:

Stir together sour cream, sugar, vanilla extract, lemon oil, and salt in a small  bowl and spoon over cheesecake, spreading gently and evenly, leaving a 1/4-inch  border around edge.

Bake cheesecake until topping is set, about 10 minutes. Run a thin knife  around edge to help prevent cracking. Sprinkle top with reserved crumbs and cool  completely in pan on rack, then chill, loosely covered, at least 8  hours.

Surrender

I took George to the beach yesterday. It was snowing sideways, the waves were hitting the beach hard and the wind was howling— savage beauty. George and I love the beach in all its incarnations: rain-soaked, shrouded in fog, bathed in sunlight or snowbound. I love the beach so much it makes me wax poetic. Seriously, walking the beach is my version of meditation and given the grey noise in my world, a little meditation is a good thing. In between wishing I had worn a hat and gloves, I was thinking about surrender and what it really means.

As I get older, I have begun to see the freedom of surrendering in my life. I have spent 42 years bound and determined to drive my bus whenever, wherever and however I want. It gets exhausting. My mantra lately is to allow space for change. The tricky part for me is realizing the change I am making space for may not be what I envisioned. As I was walking yesterday, I realized true surrender, not surrender on my terms, is trusting what's next is greater than anything I could have dreamt for myself. The beach is my cathedral, I would be lost without the cleansing power of wind and water.

I have walked by a large piece of driftwood on the beach countless times. Yesterday, something caught my eye and I stopped. There is a raven's head, clear as day, on one of the branches. As I stood there in amazement, I knew whatever lies ahead of me, the nurturing guidance of the natural and spiritual worlds is ever-present. On the way back to the car (I really should have worn a hat), I found a perfect dragonfly dusted with sand and snow. I picked it up and brought it home; I thought my warm kitchen might revive it. No such luck, it was a victim of the snow storm. I am going to save it with a note that says, 'surrender to mystery'.

My dear friend, Mindy, sent me C. P. Cavafy's poem, 'Ithaca', right before Good Thyme opened. We have been friends for 22 years and she knew exactly what to give me to mark the beginning of a life I had dreamed of. It eloquently reminds me to relish the journey.

Ithaca

As you set out for Ithaca
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
 
Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.
 
Keep Ithaca always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.
 
Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
 
And if you find her poor, Ithaca won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithacas mean. 

C.P. Cavafy

What's For Dinner During An April Storm?

I have a problem. Most people, when they hear a storm is brewing, think about battening the hatches. I think about dinner. I have to admit, the impending snow storm wasn't too thrilling until I realized it meant I could make one more winter dinner. Roast chicken in the oven, fire in the wood stove and snow falling— perfection as far as I am concerned. There is not much to say about roasting a chicken except use good herb salt, butter the skin, stuff the cavity with lemon, garlic and fresh herbs and roast at 450 degrees on a bed of carrots, onion and potatoes.

I used to buy a lovely garlic herb salt at the Kitchen Window in Minneapolis. It was special because it was Italian and the fresh herbs and garlic were dried in the salt. Last year, I realized driving to Minneapolis for salt was excessive, Wisconsin is almost as cool as Italy and I had tons of fresh herbs from my garden. It is not much of a recipe, more of a suggested plan of attack. Put a couple of cups of coarse sea salt (not grey sea salt, too oily), a couple handfuls of fresh herbs (thyme, basil, rosemary, lemon thyme, sage, tarragon, whatever you have on hand), 1/4 cup fresh cracked black pepper and 5 or so cloves of fresh garlic in a food processor. Blend until the salt is finely ground and green. Spread the salt on a sheet tray and let dry overnight. Store in a covered container and use with wild abandon on anything and everything.

The Leeward Side

Although you wouldn't know it by looking out the window today, Saturday was a taste of summer in April. I haven't been to Madeline since last fall and a picnic on the beach sounded like a brilliant plan. We stopped at the IGA, grabbed chips, cheese, crackers and a trashy magazine (People magazine is a prerequisite for a Mary Dougherty beach day) and boarded the ferry. The wind was picking up and the ride was a little rough. Big Bay Town Park was on the leeward side of the island and I knew we were headed towards a stellar afternoon.

Charlie asked me how old he was the first time he went to Madeline Island. When I said, three weeks old, he had an incredulous look on his face. It wasn't as crazy as it sounds, it wasn't my first rodeo and Charlie was an easygoing baby. The Madeline Island 4th of July parade is a not to be missed event for the Dougherty's. A little thing like a newborn baby was not going to stop us from going to the parade and watching fireworks from the boat!

George was the only dog invited. Actually, he invited himself. He was running around the house with his Chuck-it and a terribly earnest expression on his face. He ran outside before anyone could catch him and hopped in the car. Fortunately, the Cavaliers don't share George's enthusiasm for the beach. I gave them a few treats and left them at home without too much guilt.

The kids wanted to check out the waves and I wanted to visit the LaPointe Indian cemetery. We had an hour to kill before our return ferry trip, just enough time to make everyone happy. The waves were impressive, the wind was howling and the cemetery was beautiful in its decay. Our afternoon felt like visiting an old friend, Madeline holds so many memories for all of us. Recounting our shared past experiences and planning our future visits to the pool, Grandpa Tony's or the Pub gives me a sense of place and immense gratitude for all we have been given.

Another Sunday, Another Waterfall

We have lived in Bayfield for four years and are still discovering the wild and untouched beauty of this place. My friend, Ellen, suggested an excursion to Lost Falls in Cornucopia. Spring walks appeal to me for a couple of reasons: no flying bugs, no vegetation to speak of which means no wild animals can jump out unexpectedly and eat me and waterfalls are glorious in the spring. The sight and sound of rushing water is an instant re-set button for my spirit.

I cherish our Sunday adventures. Taking a few hours away from cell phones, tv's and computers is a beautiful pause from the usual 'hurry scurry' cadence of our lives. As we walked through the woods, I felt a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for my beautiful family, the benevolent energy of the trees, the new life springing up all around us and the memories we are making. The Bayfield Peninsula is proving to be a remarkable backdrop for our family story.

Gina's Gnocchi

We renovated our kitchen a couple of years ago and it turns out— it the perfect space for gathering. It is full of friends, kids, dogs and endless piles of papers, jackets and shoes.  I met Ted when I was 18 years old. The beginning stage of any relationship involves a lot of questions and when Ted asked me where I saw myself twenty years on, I knew the answer straight away. I saw myself behind a center island in a kitchen filled with kids and dogs. It is humbling to realize my 18 year old self knew where I was headed long before I figured it out. The first time I stood in my kitchen with dogs at my feet and the kids bouncing off the walls , I realized that girl was right. I have had the good fortune to fall into the company of some extraordinary women who like to cook, eat and drink wine. When Julie asked me to host a cooking class for the Writer's Read Event at Stagenorth in February, I was game. It was a beautiful afternoon full of laughter and good food. I felt the ancient energy of a community prepared meal and I wanted to continue what Julie started. The best meals have a story and my friend, Gina, is a brilliant storyteller and gnocchi maker. She generously agreed to share the story of her Italian family from Pietra Colora, Italy and her recipe for potato gnocchi. We made gnocchi, tomato sauce, laughed, talked and shared a meal. It was a magical evening.

Gina's Gnocchi

3 cups riced dry baked potatoes

1 cup white flour

2 eggs

Add up to 1 cup of flour to the riced potatoes to achieve the proper consistency. The dough should hold together enough to roll out without cracking.

Roll to 1/2 inch thick on a tablecloth or pastry cloth. Roll up to keep from drying out. Cut into squares. Roll with fingers into tubes. Put into boiling water 5 to 10 minutes or until they float. Drain and serve immediately.

The Journey Began With Cheese

What would possess a woman with five kids, four dogs, a lot of impractical shoes and a relatively easy-going husband to move to a small town in Northern Wisconsin and buy a restaurant? Cheese. It all started with tortas- a cheese and chutney appetizer that Renee had made for years prior to meeting me. I remember sitting in the bar at the Wild Rice, planning our foray into the cheese business in Minneapolis a couple months after we met. I called the Uptown Kowalski's, delivered my 'elevator pitch' and scheduled a meeting with the head cheese specialist. As I walked out of Kowalski's on that sunny November afternoon, I had no idea how much my life would change.

Our little cheese company took off in a hurry. The tortas were in all the Kowalski's stores and selling well. We had a pretty good system worked out— Renee handled production and I was the delivery and 'demo' girl. Everything came to a screeching halt when her restaurant caught on fire and burned to the ground 3 months after our first delivery. We needed a kitchen to continue making our tortas and spent a couple of weeks exploring our options. We walked into an old yellow farm-house outside Washburn with an illustrious history as a speakeasy, brothel and restaurant and that was that. I found myself seriously considering buying a restaurant. Another three or four weeks passed, Renee had a partner,  I had a restaurant and Bayfield had 7 new residents. As Gabrielle Hamilton, author of Blood, Bones and Butter, said, 'And that, just like that, is how a whole life can start'.

Blue Cheese & Fig Chutney Torta

Fig Chutney

2 cups dried mission figs, chopped 3 garlic cloves. chopped 1 red onion, chopped 1/4 cup butter 2 cups red wine 2 tbsp candied ginger, minced 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes salt and pepper to taste

Blue Cheese Torta

2 packages of cream cheese, at room temperature 1 sticks of butter, at room temperature 1 garlic cloves 1/4 cup red onion, minced 1 tsp cayenne pepper, to taste 1/2 cup blue cheese (more if you prefer a stronger blue cheese taste) 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese salt and pepper to taste

Chutney: Melt the butter in a sauté pan and add the onion, sauté until softened. Add garlic, figs, red pepper flakes and candied ginger and saute for 5 to 7 minutes. Add the wine and simmer until liquid is nearly evaporated. Add salt and pepper to taste. Cool completely.

Cheese: Combine the butter and cream cheese in a food processor. Add remaining ingredients and process until smooth. Line ramekins or other containers with plastic wrap. Press chutney into mold and add the cheese mixture. Cover and refrigerate until set. These can be frozen and de-frosted before serving.

What Happens When You Run Out Of Oranges??

I have a pretty serious thing for cookbooks and nothing makes my heart go pitter-pat (other than dogs and good wine) like a gorgeous cookbook. David Tanis, a chef at Chez Panisse, has two cookbooks— A Platter of Figs and Heart of an Artichoke and they are drop dead gorgeous books with delicious recipes. It has been cloudy here and I grabbed the Heart of an Artichoke book for inspiration and color for my sensory deprived brain. We were having friends over for dinner and I needed something to get my creative juices flowing.

There is a Sicilian Salad in David's cookbook with oranges, fennel, spinach and radishes, it sounded like the perfect spring salad. I decided to introduce Sicily to Morocco and added some oil cured olives and cilantro. The fennel went in the oven to be roasted with the brussel sprouts (roasted fennel is one of my favorites) and I whipped up a vinaigrette. I am a firm believer in bright, acidic vinaigrettes and used raspberry and white wine vinegar as well as a healthy dollop of Dijon mustard. Dinner was looking better and better. I felt my brain fog start to lift. Everything was going along swimmingly until I opened the fridge to look for the orange, the shining star of my salad. I had grapefruits galore but not one orange. Grapefruit is round, grows on trees in Florida and is kind of orange-colored— a perfectly suitable substitute, right?? It turned out to be a fortuitous detour, the pink grapefruit was beautiful against the green spinach and it's acidity was well suited for the salad dressing and olives. The case of the missing oranges is still unsolved. I guess I should be happy the kids are eating fruit and not Doritos.

Of course, there was wine involved. Bob is one of my favorite dinner guests. He loves Pinot Noir as much as I do and always brings a couple good bottles to share. Bergstrom Pinot Noir is a typical Willamette Valley Pinot— cranberries, strawberries, spice and earth. A classic combination of strength and elegance that defines truly great Pinot Noir. It was a pleasure to drink and probably would have benefitted from a brief stay in the decanter but we were on a roll and popped and poured. We drank the Vietti Roero Arneis with dinner (we had roast chicken with lemons, herbs and kalamata olives). I am not the biggest white wine fan but I tend to like Italian white wines as a rule. This Vietti is a super food friendly wine with a lot of bright, fresh acidity with pears and green apple in your mouth and a nice floral nose. Plus, I love the label. The guy has such a beleaguered look on his face— winemaking must be hard work.

Moroccan Grapefruit Salad

Salad

A couple handfuls of baby spinach

2 grapefruits peeled, quartered and sliced

1 red onion sliced and placed in ice water for 10 - 15 minutes (removes the acidity from the onion)

1/4 cup pitted and chopped oil cured olives

1/4 cup cilantro, chopped

Vinaigrette

2 Tbsp raspberry vinegar

2 Tbsp  white wine vinegar

2 Tbsp Dijon mustard

2 Tbsp honey

1/2 cup good olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Assemble the spinach, grapefruit, red onion, olives and cilantro in a bowl. Combine all vinaigrette ingredients in a container and pour over the salad. I always salt my salad greens with Maldon Sea Salt before adding the dressing.

A Corny Sunday

Sadie, Will, George and I took a little road trip on Sunday to visit Cornucopia, a sweet little town about 20 miles from Bayfield. There is a beautiful sandy beach, marina, a few shops and Siskiwit Falls. All in all, it was a lovely afternoon.

Lunch With A Gentleman Farmer, Goats and Quiche

Creation is a messy business— whether it is pastry dough or birthing 63 baby goats. I had three kids in diapers at one point in my life and thought I would never emerge from the fog of feedings, Cheerios, juice boxes and chronic exhaustion. It was a cake walk compared to ushering 63 baby goats into the world in less than a month's time. My friend, Michael, is the lead goat herder, cheese maker and gentleman farmer at Sassy Nanny Farmstead Cheese. Last year, he invited us to his farm to see the babies. I made friends with a little guy named Andy and decided I had a goat in my future. As it turns out, a goat would have been the proverbial straw on the camel's back and I am goat less. However, I am still a goat admirer and was excited to meet this year's new additions to the herd.

During the summer, there is a great farmers market every Thursday in Cornucopia and that is where I tasted Michael's goat cheese for the first time about five years ago. Growing up in Minneapolis, my previous experience with cheese involved plastic wrap and a grocery store. Once I put Michael's cheese in my mouth, I realized I had been missing the boat. Local cheese, made by a man who genuinely cares for his goats was a revelation— it was fresh and creamy without any of the gaminess I typically associated with goat cheese. He makes a number of goat cheeses: Lake Effect, a fresh, spreadable goat cheese, Buttin' Heads, a sea salt brined feta, Cabra Fresco, an homage to quesco fresco and Winey Kid (my favorite), an aged raw milk cheese with a red wine washed rind. Food tastes better when it hasn't been on a trans-continental trip of planes, trains and automobiles and Michael's cheese is no exception. His cheese is as good as anything I have tasted and I know the goats (kind of). How cool is that??

Living your dream takes a tremendous amount of hard work— the stakes are high and success is hard to measure. Michael, like most of my friends up here, decided to take a leap of faith and chose the road less traveled. I am glad he did because as Frost said,, 'that has made all the difference'. It makes a difference to live the life you dreamed of, to be a good steward to your environment and animals, to live in the moment (especially when the moment is one you would rather fast forward) and have the courage to watch it all unfold and know it is as it should be. When I moved to Bayfield and opened the restaurant with Renee, I had no idea what the future held for me but I knew it had all the components for an epic adventure. That is the beauty of Sassy Nanny Cheese, Good Thyme Restaurant or any number of the other small businesses up here— it isn't always easy but there are bound to be some epic adventures shared around a table full of good food, wine and friends.

Dorie Greenspan's Gorgonzola and Apple Quiche

1 pastry crust, blind baked in a 9 to 10 inch tart pan

1 tbsp unsalted butter

1 medium onion, finely chopped

1 apple (Empire, Gala or Granny Smith), sliced 1/4 inch thick

4 ounces Gorgonzola cheese, crumbled

4 ounces Swiss cheese, shredded

2/3 cup heavy cream

1/3 cup milk

4 large eggs

salt and pepper

 Put a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 400 deg F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Melt butter in a small skillet over low heat. Add onion and saute until onion is soft but not colored, about 10-15 minutes, then remove from heat. Place the partially baked pastry shell on the baking sheet (this will catch any drips). Spread the onion evenly over the bottom of the crust. Scatter the apple pieces over the onion and top with the crumbled Gorgonzola and shredded Swiss cheese. Beat the eggs, milk, and cream together until well blended and season with salt and pepper. Pour the egg mixture into the tart pan. Place the baking sheet in the oven and bake for 40-45 minutes, until the filling is puffed all over (make sure the center is puffed), lightly browned, and set. Transfer the quiche to a cooling rack and allow it to cool for at least 5 minutes. Remove the sides of the tart pan and slide quiche onto a platter or cutting board. Serve warm or at room temperature. Leftovers keep well in the fridge for 2-3 days.

Sunday Afternoon at Houghton Falls

Pristine, running water is a blessing. Running water winding through a verdant forest surrounded by an ancient sandstone ravine is nothing short of miraculous. Sadie and I were driving home from Washburn Sunday afternoon and saw Will walking downtown with his camera slung across his back. He was headed out to take a few pictures on the Brownstone Trail but really wanted to go to Houghton Falls. Sounded like a brilliant idea to me— it would be my first visit, the sun was shining and it sounded like a perfect family outing. The primordial beauty was breathtaking. I felt the heartbeat of the forest as I walked up the ravine to the falls. I heard the birds, the water, the wind in the trees and the kids laughter. I was utterly enchanted. Once again, I am humbled by the power of the natural world to soothe my monkey brain and restore my spirit.

I have a connection (kind of) to Houghton Falls. The restaurant building was built by Hattie and Milton Sprague as their farm-house— the farm had 1000 acres and included the falls. Over the years, parcels of land were sold and the house changed hands a number of times. The Club Lido, owned by Cleo Grant, was an institution from the mid 1950's until the late 1970's (I am not sure when Cleo sold it). I met Cleo's daughter , Cheri, in August of 2010 when she traveled back to Washburn for the dedication of the Houghton Falls Nature Preserve. When Cheri was growing up, they owned the land from the restaurant to the lake (including the falls);  it was fascinating to hear her stories. She used to ride her pony to the lake and spend time in a cabin Cleo (or her Dad) had built somewhere near the falls. I can't imagine having Houghton Falls as your playground— it must have been magical. Cheri sent me a package of pictures after she left. I scanned a few: there is a picture of Cheri on her pony, Cleo and Cheri in front of the restaurant, Cleo in the 1940's and that beautiful building we call Good Thyme.

An Old Fashioned Primer

The Five O'Clock Club in Cumberland was the first supper club I ever set foot in. I learned two things that evening 20 years ago: Surf-n-Turf is a spiffy way to describe beef and seafood for dinner and a good Wisconsin bartender needs to know how to make a proper Old Fashioned (and maybe a Brandy Alexander). Lee was the bartender at the Five O'Clock and I looked forward to stopping at her bar for a cocktail every time we went in for dinner. She always remembered our names, asked after Ted's parents and could carry on a conversation peppered with sass and humor. In fact, the New York Times just wrote an article about Northern Wisconsin supper clubs— stiff cocktails and surf-n-turf are cool (again). As they said in the article, "good supper clubs have fine-tuned the rituals of dining and drinking to near perfection".

Over the past four years as a restaurant owner, I have learned countless things— never eat sweet potato fries off a customer's plate, don't gesture wildly in a crowded dining room, calf hair shoes do not belong in a kitchen and how to make a proper Old Fashioned. Brandy is the liquor of choice but an Old Fashioned made with rye whiskey is sublime. The Old Fashioned has four components: an amber-colored liquor, bitters, maraschino cherries and oranges. I know from my adventures in the kitchen, the quality of ingredients matter, a lot, and it is no different behind the bar. Clear Creek brandy or Willett rye, Luxardo maraschino cherries from Italy and Fee Brothers whiskey barrel aged bitters make a mean Old Fashioned. I think Lee would approve.

Good Thyme Old Fashioned

3 ounces brandy or rye

1 ounce simple syrup made with raw sugar

3 dashes of Fee Brothers Bitters

2 Luxardo maraschino cherries

1 quarter of a 1/2 inch slice of orange

7-up or Sprite

Muddle the orange slice  and cherries in a glass, add the simple syrup, bitters and ice. Pour the brandy or rye into the glass, top with 7-up and garnish with an orange slice and cherry.