fly. sprint. collapse.

We learn very quickly that we function poorly as our own gods. I am sitting on the plane, with imminent fear of missing my next connecting flight, ready to pull a fast one and collect my carry on items in order to burst through the emergency exit. But I cannot move even an inch until we finish turtle taxiing to our gate (and my nervous eye contact with the face of my watch does not seem to be helping). Life can just be so disobedient sometimes, as if it pleasures to remind us of our deficiency of control.

The fasten-your-seatbelt sign goes off and I am immediately in full sprint down to my terminal three letters over. My bladder is full, my mouth is dry as a chalkboard from days of Dramamine, and my dinner of M&Ms and airplane peanuts is hardly fueling me at this point. I pause momentarily to wait for the train and my heart beats audibly in my ears to mark every precious second passing. By the time I finally jump to the finish line, my polite "excuse me's" have run out and I am nearly crying, not even sure myself whether I am overjoyed or exhausted. I sigh an awkwardly frazzled "thank you Lord" and board my plane home.

Phew, another Christmas miracle. I did this same triathlon (fly, sprint, collapse) three times this week. Isn't interviewing fun?

Would I like to breeze my way through this process with the greatest of ease? Well sure, who wouldn't. Would I like to saunter through airports and show up in my suit looking stellar everywhere I go? Again, yes. But these are the times that build character. These are the times that make me appreciate, even anticipate, Match Day looming in the near future.

December marks a season of anticipation for the joy to come. Many seasons of our lives reflect similar anticipation, as we seem to always be looking forward to the next thing, the next test, the next vacation, the next ______. We believe we will feel satisfaction when we accomplish or acquire this next thing, and finally, finally feel settled. Perhaps the reason we anticipate what's to come is that we think we are in control of it all, a god of our own lives and that reaching our goal will solidify this self-image.

But I make a terrible lord over myself, as exemplified in my perpetual chase for bettering results, causing me to constantly move forward in thought to the next big thing, anticipating that ever elusive contentedness. In this season of Christmas, I am going to choose to acknowledge what I profess to be true anyway-- that God is in control, that He has written my outcomes in ways that will shape me and form me into His own. I will anticipate His next moves, rather than my own dictatorship. After the sprint, I am ready for that season of over-my-head contentedness.

what luck

Once as a child, I won a pair of roller skates from Save-On drugstore. Then there was that time I won a throw-away camera from HEB. Last night I won a raffle for the right to buy Pappy Van Winkle. How lucky am I?!? If you know bourbon, you will know this was a big day for me.

I made the dish below for dinner Monday night, as an effort to start actually using the wealth of resources I have in cookbooks. Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty boasts of “vibrant vegetable recipes” that I hope to explore more over the next couple weeks, starting with this one…

Mushroom and herb polenta

4 tbsp olive oil

4 cups mixed mushrooms (I used baby bellas, cremini, and shitake)

4 cloves garlic, crushed and diced

1 tbsp fresh tarragon, chopped

1 tbsp fresh thyme, chopped

1 tbsp truffle oil

salt and black pepper

2 ¼ cups vegetable stock

½ cup polenta (instant)

3 oz Parmesan, grated

2 ½ tbsp butter

1 tsp rosemary, chopped

1 tbsp parsley, chopped

4 oz Taleggio, cut into strips

In a large skillet, heat half of the olive oil over medium-high heat and add in half of the mushrooms. Fry for a few minutes, resisting the urge to stir them at first (so that they form some nice golden brown patches), until just cooked and tender. Remove them from the pan and repeat with remaining olive oil and mushrooms. Turn the heat off and return all the mushrooms to the skillet, along with the garlic, tarragon, thyme, truffle oil, salt and pepper. Keep warm.

Bring the stock to boil in a saucepan. Stir in the polenta, then reduce the heat to low-medium and stir constantly with a wooden spoon for about 5 minutes (until polenta is pulling away from the sides of the pan when you stir, but still a bit runny in consistency). When polenta is cooked, stir in butter, rosemary, Parmesan and half of the parsley and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Preheat the broiler. Spread the polenta over a heatproof dish and top with the mushroom mixture. Dot the Taleggio over the mushrooms and place under the broiler until the cheese bubbles. Remove and garnish with the remaining parsley. Serve hot!

Adapted slightly from Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi

i'm baaaaaaaack

Sitting at the dining room table this morning with Ben and some homemade cinnamon rolls, I felt my lips turn up at the edges with joy. I have not spent a morning with him in about a month (since our schedules did not exactly align), and this moment over breakfast just about made me sentimental. I think I am going to really like this 4^th year of medical school.

I count today as the official beginning of a break…one that lasts until I graduate. One wherein I have long meals and share good drinks. One wherein I have time to help you with this or that thing, so feel free to call me. One wherein I plan to just love well, and considering my love language is food, I will count it great success if that also translates to me blogging a little more frequently. This break is not something I have postulated to last forever, so I will enjoy it while it does. We are adaptive creatures, so I cannot believe the freedoms I take this year—to relax, to love others well, to just sit and be content—will breed in me a laziness that day 1 of residency will not be able to rectify. No, if anything, these next months of fun will cultivate in me a sense of appreciation.

So here we go! Expect to see me a little more often, dear readers…

before their final rise

ready to share!

Homemade Cinnamon Rolls

like my mama used to make

1 package active dry yeast
1 ½ cups warm water
5 cups sifted all-purpose flour, divided
½ cup sugar
2 teaspoons salt
½ cup shortening, melted
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
½ cup butter, melted
more all-purpose flour for dusting your workplace

Combine yeast and warm water in a 2-cup liquid measuring cup & let stand for 5 minutes.
Combine 4 cups sifted flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Stir in yeast mixture and shortening. Add eggs and remaining 1 cup sifted flour; stir vigorously until well blended. Dough will be soft and sticky. Brush or lightly rub dough with some of the melted butter. Cover loosely with a dishrag; let rise in a warm place, free from drafts, about 1 ½ to 2 hours or until doubled in bulk.

1 cup sugar
1 cup butter, melted
dash of salt
½ cup ground cinnamon

Mix together the above ingredients in a small bowl. Sprinkle flour on your risen dough as well as on a big clean work surface. Take half of the dough and roll it into a 30 by 20 inch rectangle. Spread half of cinnmon mixture over dough. Roll up dough jellyroll fashion, starting at the short side, just to the center of the rectangle; cut dough along side of roll to release it. Roll up the remaining half of the rectangle in a similar fasion. Set rolls of dough aside. Repeat procedure using dough and cinnamon mixture (and make sure to re-flour your work surface).

Grease the bottom of pans with butter (be generous!).

Cut each roll of dough into 16 or so 1 ¼ inch thick slices. Place slices, cut side down, in prepared pans, leaving about ¼ inch space between the slices. Brush slices with remaining melted butter. Let rise, uncovered, for one more whole hour in a warm place free from drafts, or until again doubled in bulk.

Preheat oven to 375° F . Bake rolls, uncovered, for 18 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool slightly in pans.

2 ½ cups powdered sugar
dash of salt
2 tablespoons milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon bourbon (optional)

Stir above ingredients until smooth (add a touch more milk if icing is too thick) and drizzle over warm cinnamon rolls.

fast balls or curve balls?

Sitting in my first interview with eyes intently focused, I leaned in as my interviewer formed his next question (which he prefaced by offering me “fast balls or curve balls”),

“If you could continue doing only 1 thing outside of your surgical residency, what would it be?”

“Besides my spouse?” I inquired.

“Of course.” Okay well I admit I was glad he clarified, in case this was some sort of test of my allegiance.

“Cooking” immediately populated my thoughts. Working in the kitchen affords me the most functional catharsis: I am creatively satisfied and dinner makes it to the table for husBen. I have recently started loving those moments when I find myself spinning around in the kitchen from this chopping on this cutting board to stirring that boiling pot to pouring a glass of wine for whoever is sitting in my kitchen with me. That space is holy for me. That busyness I cherish.

I am in the shock trauma ICU this month and I have to admit I am quite content being back in the hospital after a month off studying in solitude for my Step test. I thrive off a meaningfully packed schedule because I learn to appreciate the few things (yikes, maybe “1 thing”) I still get to do in my free time. HusBen has also been busy! He passed the Bar exam (a milestone well celebrated with a cab franc we have been saving for a few years) and was sworn in as an official attorney in the state of Texas last weekend.

As Ben and I drove to the interview on Friday, we ran through a compilation of popular questions, spending some good miles on our favorites. “If your house were burning down, what are 3 things you would grab?” Fitting question, considering our house just sold (to a contractor ready to demolish it)! I am in no condition to predict where the next year may find us, so we will continue to love living in this idyllic little neighborhood until the wrecking ball begins to swing…

Another of my favorites: “Teach me something in 5 minutes.” I could teach you how to roast a chicken in less than that…

This recipe hails from one of our favorite restaurants in San Francisco, Zuni Café. I promise it is not hard to make, and it is the kind of recipe that coaches you into independence in the kitchen. The most quality cookbooks, in my opinion, teach you skills that translate into ability: you can follow the steps the first time then exercise some creativity each subsequent time you roast a chicken. Have fun!

Roast chicken with warm bread salad

INSTRUCTIONS

For the chicken

One small chicken, 3 to 4 pounds

4 tender sprigs fresh thyme, marjoram, rosemary or sage, about 1/2 inch long

Salt

About 1 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

A little water

For the salad

2 cups slightly stale open-crumbed, chewy, peasant-style bread (not sourdough)

6 to 8 tablespoons mild-tasting olive oil

1-1/2 tablespoons Champagne vinegar or white wine vinegar

Salt and freshly cracked black pepper

1 tablespoon dried currants

1 teaspoon red wine vinegar, or as needed

1 tablespoon warm water

2 tablespoons pine nuts

2 to 3 garlic cloves, slivered

1/4 cup slivered scallions (about 4 scallions), including a little of the green part

2 tablespoons lightly salted Chicken Stock

A few handfuls of arugula, frisée, or red mustard greens, carefully washed and dried

DIRECTIONS 


Seasoning the chicken (Can be done 1 to 3 days before serving; for 3-1/4- to 3-1/2-pound chickens, at least 2 days)




Remove and discard the lump of fat inside the chicken. Rinse the chicken and pat very dry inside and out. Be thorough-a wet chicken will spend too much time steaming before it begins to turn golden brown.

Approaching from the edge of the cavity, slide a finger under the skin of each of the breasts, making 2 little pockets. Now use the tip of your finger to gently loosen a pocket of skin on the outside of the thickest section of each thigh. Using your finger, shove and herb sprig into each of the 4 pockets.

Season the chicken liberally all over with salt and pepper {we use ¾ teaspoon of sea salt per pound of chicken}. Season the thick sections a little more heavily than the skinny ankles and wings. Sprinkle a little of the salt just inside the cavity, on the backbone, but don’t otherwise worry about seasoning the inside. Twist and tuck the wing tips behind the shoulders. Cover loosely and refrigerate.

Starting the bread salad (Can be done up to several hours in advance)


Preheat the broiler. Cut the bread into a couple of large chunks. Carve off all of the bottom crust and most of the top and side crust. Reserve the top and side crusts to use as croutons in salads or soups. Brush the bread all over with olive oil. Broil very briefly, to crisp and lightly color the surface. Turn the bread chunks over and crisp the other side. Trim off any badly charred tips, then tear the chunks into a combination of irregular 2- to 3-inch wads, bite-sized bits, and fat crumbs. You should get about 4 cups.

Combine about 1/4 cup of the olive oil with the Champagne or white wine vinegar and salt and pepper to taste. Toss about 1/4 cup of this tart vinaigrette with the torn bread in a wide salad bowl; the bread will be unevenly dressed. Taste one of the more saturated pieces. If it is bland, add a little salt and pepper and toss again.

Place the currants in a small bowl and moisten with the red wine vinegar and warm water. Set aside.

Roasting the chicken and assembling the salad

Preheat the oven to 475. Depending on the size, efficiency and accuracy of your oven, and the size of your bird, you may need to adjust the heat to as high as 500 or as low as 450 during the course of roasting the chicken to get it to brown properly. If that proves to be the case, begin at that temperature the next time you roast a chicken. If you have a convection function on your oven, use it for the first 30 minutes; it will enhance browning, and may reduce overall cooking by 5 to 10 minutes.

Choose a shallow flameproof roasting pan or dish barely larger than the chicken, or use a 10-inch skillet with an all-metal handle. Preheat the pan over medium heat. Wipe the chicken dry and set it breast side up in the pan. It should sizzle.

Place the center of the oven and listen and watch for it to start browning within 20 minutes. If it doesn’t, raise the temperature progressively until it does. The skin should blister, but if the chicken begins to char, or the fat is smoking, reduce temperature by 25 degrees. After about 30 minutes, turn the bird over — drying the bird and preheating the pan should keep the skin from sticking. Roast for another 10 to 20 minutes, depending on size, then flip back over to recrisp the breast skin, another 5 to 10 minutes. Total oven time will be 45 minutes to an hour.

While the chicken is roasting, place the pine nuts in a small baking dish and set in the hot oven for a minute or two, just to warm though. Add them to the bowl of bread.

Place a spoonful of the olive oil in a small skillet, add the garlic and scallions, and cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until softened. Don’t let them color. Scrape into the bread and fold to combine. Drain the plumped currants and fold in. Dribble the chicken stock or lightly salted water over the salad and fold again. Taste a few pieces of bread-a fairly saturated one and a dryish one. If it is bland, add salt, pepper, and/or a few drops of vinegar, then toss well. Since the basic character of the bread salad depends on the bread you use, these adjustments can be essential.

Pile the bread salad in a 1-quart baking dish and tent with foil; set the salad bowl aside. Place the salad in the oven after you flip the chicken the final time.

Finishing and serving the chicken and bread salad

Remove the chicken from the oven and turn off the heat. Leave the bread salad to continue warming for another 5 minutes of so.

Lift the chicken from the roasting pan and set on a plate. Carefully pour the clear fat from the roasting oven, leaving the lean drippings behind. Add about a tablespoon of water to the hot pan and swirl it.

Slash the stretched skin between the thighs and breasts of the chicken, then tilt the bird and plate over the roasting pan to drain the juice into the drippings.

Set the chicken in a warm spot and leave to rest while you finish the bread salad. The meat will become more tender and uniformly succulent as it cools. Set a platter in the oven to warm for a minute or two.

Tilt the roasting pan and skim the last of the fat. Place over medium-low heat, add any juice that has collected under the chicken, and bring to a simmer. Stir and scrape to soften any hard golden drippings. Taste-the juices will be extremely flavorful.

Tip the bread salad into the salad bowl. It will be steamy-hot, a mixture of soft, moist wads, crispy-on-the-outside-but-moist-in-the-middle-wads, and a few downright crispy ones. Drizzle and toss with a spoonful of the pan juices. Add the greens, a drizzle of vinaigrette, and fold well. Taste again.

Cut the chicken into pieces, spread the bread salad on the warm platter, and nestle the chicken in the salad.

Excerpted from “The Zuni Cafe Cookbook,” by Judy Rogers. 

hiatus please, thank you

Hello dear readers...

I must take a brief hiatus from this space as I hunker down for the final week of studying for my Step 2 exam. Just a test, but still I must focus, unhindered. Besides, all work and no play makes me dull and my cooking reflects it. 

I will be back in the kitchen next week, bursting with pent-up excitement! 

If you are the praying type, say a prayer for me on Wednesday. Please, thank you.

merry engagement

Dear friend,

You may not even realize the blessing you are to me. You have habituated me in the practice of orienting our perspective so well since starting medical school that I fear the woman I would be without you by my side (especially those first two years, phew). You have also (probably unintentionally) taught me so much about love these past few years: I have you to thank for the constant example of what sacrificial and genuine adoration of a spouse should look like (and you are not even married yet!). I absorbed your enthusiasm for your “other” throughout those stages of crush, puppy love and now engagement. You make me remember what it felt like, what love looked like at those moments and for that I must thank you. I am excited for your future in marriage because I see a good foundation in this present. I know God will work on you (doesn’t He work on us all) and I know you will be made stronger, richer, and wiser through the process. Just know that I am here, cheering you on, loving you through all that you are about to learn, about to teach me, and that we are ready to support you and your person in any way we can. For now, I will just bake you cake…

…because food is my love language and missy, I love you!

White Buttercream Cake with just the right hint of almond

For the cake layers:

3 large egg whites, room temperature

2/3 cup milk (use 2% or whole)

2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste

1 ½ teaspoons almond extract

2 cups sifted cake flour

1 cup sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

8 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces, at room temperature

For the frosting:

3 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature

2 1/2 cups powdered sugar, sifted

a pinch of salt

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

1 teaspoon almond extract

1 tablespoon Amaretto liqueur

3 tablespoons heavy cream

Blue food coloring, a drop at a time

Instructions

For the cake:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray 2 (or 3 if you’d like!) silicone cake molds with baker’s Pam.

In one bowl, combine egg whites, ¼ cup of the milk, the vanilla bean paste and almond extract.

In a stand mixer, combine the cake flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Using the paddle attachment, beat on low for 30 seconds to combine. Add the butter and remaining milk and beat on low until moistened. Turn the mixer up to medium speed for about 1 minute more. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, and add the egg mixture, and beat on medium to combine.

Divide the batter evenly between the 2 pans (or between three if you want more layers in your cake). Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool the cakes on wire racks for 10-20 minutes. Cool completely before frosting.

For the frosting:

With an electric mixer, beat the butter on medium speed until it becomes pale and creamy (about 3 minutes). Add in the powdered sugar and salt and beat on medium for another 2-3 minutes. Add the vanilla extract, almond extract, and amaretto and beat on medium again, about 3 minutes. Add the cream 1 tablespoon at a time until you reach the desired consistency. Add the food coloring, one drop at a time until you reach the desired color and beat until full incorporated.

Assembly

Place one layer of the cake on your serving piece. Place 1 cup of the frosting on top, and spread evenly with a palette knife. Place the second layer on top of the first. Place a generous scoop of frosting on the top of the cake, and spread evenly across the top of the cake. Work your way around the sides until the entire cake is covered with a thin layer of frosting. This is your crumb coat. Put the whole cake in the fridge for about 30 minutes to set the frosting. After 30 minutes, use the rest of the frosting to spread a thicker layer over your whole cake until smooth. Top with sprinkles or decorate however you desire!

Adapted from http://cakemerchant.com/2013/02/26/fluffy-white-cake-with-vanilla-buttercream-frosting/

offtober

If you want something done, give it to a busy person.

I forget where I first heard this said, but please tell me you see the truth in it. Growing up, I witnessed my mother, the queen of “yes, I’d love to,” pull off more than I thought humanely possible. She could work 5 days a week running my dad’s practice, then still have time to cook and drop off dinner for someone ailing, raise money for this or that fundraiser, work on Habitat houses, lead a Sunday school (of course always arriving with homemade muffins in hand), boss us around, work in her garden, and sit on a school board (and these were just the activities I was cognizant of as a child). She moved fast, accomplished much, and yet still somehow had the stamina and gusto to be creative and kind at the end of the day—abilities burned out of most normal people by an overly busy lifestyle. If you wanted something done, you gave it to Myra.

When I am extremely busy, I feel charged. I am somehow infinitely more productive, despite the inversely proportional lack of free time. I mention this hyper state only to juxtapose my current one: now I have too much free time and no structure within which to organize the things I am actually supposed to be getting done!

I have October off to study for Step 2, an ominous threat when I consider its implications. I know I need to study, but who exactly ever thought sweat pants and 17 hours a day at home were a power suit and productive environment?

Okay, today is the day I get serious. Time to study!!

Gnocchi with brown butter and sage

because it is quick and because it is "fall"

1 package gnocchi

4 tablespoons butter

dash of nutmeg (just the smallest amount)

¼ cup fresh sage, julienned

crumbled feta

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. Carefully add the gnocchi and cook until they float to the surface. Drain and set aside. In a separate skillet, heat the butter over medium high heat, until it begins to bubble. Stir until it begins to brown. Add in a mere dash of nutmeg, the sage, and the gnocchi and stir gently for about 1 minute until gnocchi is nicely browned and in some places crisped (I like to turn the heat up to high for the last 30 seconds or so to get some good crispy parts!).

Remove from heat and distribute gnocchi to plates with a drizzle of the browned butter from the skillet. Crumble feta over the dish and top with a sprig of sage to serve.