Sunlight and Sea Bright

My go-to beach for a day trip is Sea Bright, in Monmouth County. It's a narrow strip of a beach with lots of parking and a short walk to the ocean. The people are friendly to tourists, and it has a couple of old-timey stores in town that look like they were frozen in 1965. (For some people, like yours truly, this is a draw.) Not only is it pretty:

It has a cute little library that shares a parking lot with the beach. I wandered in one day and got chatting with the librarian, who knew lots about the history of the town. It also has a lovely reading room you can hide out in if the sun gets too hot:

But I think I'll let this sign posted at the beach hut say it all:

Good-bye, Sea Bright. See you in June. . .

♥ ♥ ♥

Like a Hurricane

I'm spending the day securing outdoor furniture, filling the cars with gas, stockpiling non-perishables, and emptying the bookshelves in my finished basement--all in preparation for a category 3 hurricane that's supposed to be heading straight up the Jersey coast. Our governor has declared a state of emergency, and comparisons are already being drawn between Hurricane Irene and the great storms of 1938 and 1944, which devastated much of the northeast seaboard, including the Jersey shore.

The Neil Young song of the title has been running through my head all morning, and like the weather, I'm feeling strangely calm before the storm. My neighborhood is sunny and quiet; people are walking their dogs and kids are bicycling past. But behind it all is an undercurrent that's driving people to the grocery store and gas stations; we're calling family and friends along the coast and encouraging them to come and stay.

In the meantime, I'm planning to do what I always do when I need comfort--read and cook. There's a stack of books next to my bed and the makings for sauce Bolognese in my refrigerator. And if things get really bad, I can always grab the rum and mix up some cocktails--maybe a nice batch of hurricanes?

♥ ♥ ♥

Cool Beans

If it's as hot where you are as I am these days (on one memorable day last week, it hit 108° here in Jersey. No kidding.) you're probably doing a lot of grilling. In my house, any grilled piece of meat must be accompanied by beans. I used to buy a can of baked beans and spend time doctoring them up, but no more. Instead, I adapted this recipe from one that called for soaking and cooking dry beans. For just about the same time I spend adding ingredients to prepared baked beans, I get a result that tastes much more homemade, particularly if you do them in the oven--not an option in the dog days of summer, but perfect on a November day when an off-season hankering hits. The key to this recipe is balancing the savory and the sweet, so play with the sugar and spice amounts to your taste, and if you like more onion, throw a whole one in. Serves 6.

Rosie's Baked Beans

--one half large Vidalia or other sweet onion, coarsely chopped

--three slices bacon

--two 15 oz. cans small white beans (do not drain)

--1/4 cup molasses

--1/4 to 1/3 cup dark brown sugar to taste

--2 teaspoons prepared brown mustard

--1/8 teaspoon of allspice

--dash of cayenne pepper if desired

--12 twists of pepper grinder, preferably a mixed blend of peppercorns (I like McCormick's)

--3 to 6 twists of sea salt grinder or 1 teaspoon salt

Brown the bacon in the bottom of a large Dutch oven; remove and drain bacon, and pour off all but a tablespoon or so of fat. Cook onion in bacon fat until nicely browned and beginning to carmelize. Crumble bacon and return to pot. Add beans with their juice.

Add molasses, brown sugar, mustard, allspice, and both peppers. Taste before salting, as canned beans have a sizeable sodium content. Stir mixture well and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer on low for 2 to 2 1/2 hours. Stir every 20-30 minutes, adding water as needed. If weather permits, bake in 3oo° oven for same time.

But I Won't Be One of 'Em. . .

If It's June in New Jersey. . .

There will be rhododendrons. I am always amazed at what a dead-looking bush manages to produce each spring.

The Accidental Gardener

I wouldn't say I have a brown thumb, but it's definitely a sickly yellow. In general, I neglect house plants to the point of death, and my husband coaxes them back to miraculous life. (And I dearly hope this is not a metaphor for our parenting.) I periodically plant fall bulbs, only to find them sprouting somewhere the squirrels thought more aesthetically pleasing. I buy perennials from catalogs or the local garden center, put them in and pray they return the following season. When they do, I am invariably surprised:

However, this does not mean that in spring I am not surrounded by colorful and healthy bloom. They just happen to have been planted by someone else. The beautiful purple flowers pictured at the top of this post hang over my back fence, where I enjoy them as much as if they were planted on my side.

Lining my driveway are four dogwoods currently in full bloom, courtesy of Darling Husband. Despite the width of my driveway, I did manage to tear some smaller branches from one of the trees one day as I was backing out. (Sorry, honey.)

And today, my beloved spouse presented me with this for Mother's Day:

His faith his touching, is it not?

♥ ♥ ♥

Happy Feet

Well, the thermometer hit 70 in Jersey yesterday, so it was time to break them out. Note the eye-pleasing fuschia color, the tropical design with its splashes of green and orange, and the pale lilac straps that are an exact match for the color on my toenails. And they're pretty comfy for a new pair; my toes are managing quite nicely after months of sweaty hibernation in dark socks. These two small pieces of rubber and plastic bring the promise of cool mornings and hot afternoons. Of feet propped up against the porch railing, and trips across the hot sand until the moment they can finally be kicked off and rinsed in the surf. And every step I take in them brings me that much closer to the summer that's out there waiting. Happiness at only $4.99.

♥ ♥ ♥

If It’s Fifty Degrees. . .

It's warm enough to grill pizza. Throw on an old sweatshirt and get out there!  I made my first batch this week:

Grilled pizza, with its bubbly, puffy, charred-in-places crust makes even the most pedestrian ingredients (pre-made pizza dough, grocery store mozzarella, spinach from a bag) sing out loud. I did a spinach pie for me and sausage for the men in the house, and whenever I make this, I eat myself into a carbohydrate stupor. It's super easy to do so long as you watch the grill. For this reason you should have all your toppings at hand. Whether it's a homemade batch or from the grocery store, I divide the dough in half and oil it lightly. It's easier to handle in smaller sizes on the grill, as is a slightly rectangular shape. I use medium heat. Once your grill is hot, throw that dough on for about a minute, then carefully flip it over. The partially cooked side serves as the top of your pie. Before I add ingredients, I usually let the bottom crust cook for a minute or so, shifting the crust carefully to aim for even cooking. (Which won't happen, by the way. You will get some blackened spots, but I say, embrace the char!) Once your bottom crust is beginning to brown, then add whatever strikes your fancy, finishing with your cheese. Close the grill for only brief periods and watch that sucker like a hawk, because you'll go from brilliant to burnt in a matter of seconds. Figure on four to six minutes total cooking time, and let it sit for a few moments before cutting. Pair with the best cheap wine in the house. Enjoy!

♥ ♥ ♥

Something Cooking

One recent morning I awoke in the dark, pre-dawn chill of my room and squinted at the blue numerals on my clock that read 4:50. Instead of turning over for that extra hour of sleep, I blinked, shook my head, and had one not very coherent thought: why is that oven up so high? Yes, I even think about food in my sleep. I had started my Christmas baking that day, and my subconscious was apparently still back in the kitchen, mixing up a bowl of my grandmother’s anise-flavored ricotta cookies. * Except for reading and writing, there are few things in life I like better than cooking and eating. In fact, food figures prominently in my books: characters fall in love over simmering pasta pots and steaming plates of risotto, and they trade secrets and confidences across tables. Not surprisingly, my heroes seem to know their way around a kitchen. If you are Italian—and perhaps even if you are not—you know that food is love.  So here's a little from me to you. Happy holidays!

♥ ♥ ♥

*Mema's Ricotta Cookies 2 cups of flour 2 teaspoons of baking powder 1/4 teaspoon of salt                                                   1 cup sugar 1 stick of butter 2 eggs 2 teaspoons of anise extract 1 cup of fresh ricotta cheese

1. Pre-heat oven to 350. Sift flour, baking powder and salt into bowl and set aside.
2. In a larger bowl or stand mixer, cream butter and sugar until fluffy. Add eggs and anise extract.
3. Add dry ingredients and ricotta alternately to butter mixture until well blended.
4. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls, two inches apart, on parchment covered cookie sheets and bake for 10-12 minutes. Do not overbake! The bottoms should be a light golden brown.
5. Let cool and top with confectioner's sugar glaze and non-pareils or colored sugars.
6. Try not to finish them all before Christmas Eve.