A Mouse in the Pantry

"It might take awhile, but you'll figure yourself out"

Had the pleasure last night of experiencing the new happenings at Lagunitas Brewery here in East Petaluma.  Bar fare and dinner nibbles are now on the menu at LB to compliment their expansive list of home-brewed beers, and our gooey panini sandwich with bacon tomatoes and turkey was well liked by the whole family. It's great to find food at this fantastic, if oddly placed venue (though I will miss Pizza politana if they're no longer included).

Luring us out on this particularly chilly evening was the appearance (more like the blur) of my brother Chris as he played guitar for the crowds warming themselves over a sandwich and a mighty mason jar of beer.

As happens to me every few years, when I manage to find my brother playing in a venue where kids are allowed, I was struck by how brilliant an artist he is. And what an image this man is on stage, lost in his musical world, darting back in from time to time to say hello to the audience and give shout outs to his niece and nephew as they dance uninhibited in front of him. 

This place on stage behind an instrument is safe for him.  If there were a world where only playing music mattered, Chris would be king.

(#94:  I am thankful for music)

There is a picture floating around somewhere out there in the universe, of my sister and I sitting naked (except for diapers and undies) on the dining room table, stuffing a Turkey.  I was probably three years old and she just about a year. Not only is the photo striking, two toe-headed naked angels working away cross-legged on a wooden table, it's a striking memory logged in my personal books.  I remember the feeling of that day.  I remember the surprise as we plunged crumbly herb infused stuffing into that cold turkey.  I remember the house we lived in on the hill in Sausalito.  I remember my older brothers, all teenagers, coming and going from the house with girlfriends and more friends, and old cars and basketballs. I remember the first time I touched the stove, and my mom let me, so that I would never do it again. I remember a soccer ball rolling down the hallway, one of the many toys in a house with five kids (and three boys). I remember the shape of our drinking glasses and how they stacked ont eh shelf. I remember the look of them upside-down in the sink.  I remember my mother, her scent, her laugh, the look of her standing in the kitchen.

All of these memories I can link to that photo of my sister and I on the table.

And last week as I went about preparing our thanksgiving dinner, my sweet blue-eyed angel wondered in full of questions, as he does, and got himself fully in the mix.  Without hesitation he plunged his hands into the turkey, this time filling it with oranges and onions and rosemary. He joyfully grabbed great chunks of butter and rubbed the turkey, talking to it, telling it he was "sorry old bird, but your going to taste good aren't you!".  He micro-managed that bird all the way to the oven and then asked, before slipping it in, whether we couldn't freeze it "forever" in a bag? We took some photos instead.

This photo then is his.  Perhaps he will remember the look of the unfinished kitchen walls. Maybe he'll remember the roasting pan or the compost bucket. Maybe he'll remember his uncles arriving that day, no longer teenagers, but graying men. Maybe he'll remember me. 

I am thankful for what this turkey symbolized to us. (#97)

I am thankful for this moment. For my blue-eyed boy and his go-to attitude. (#96)

I am thankful for my Mother. (#95)

99 & 98

I told you I was going to do this.  Some of you doubted.  Some of you still doubt.  But hang tight my friends because here they come.

#99: I am thankful to the friends that have gotten me through this last year - you are wonderful, beautiful woman (and men).  I am lost without you believe it or not.  Absolute rocks (and gems).  Bootstrap friends who pull you up when needed.  Thank you.

#98: I am thankful that my car works, no matter how shabby it is.  I have a car and that's more than a lot of people can say.

100

As if you are so shocked that Mouse in the Pantry's Thanksgiving blog is days after the actual date of! You're not, and that's ok, because I know you love me, despite my inability to be on time for anything. Well, actually I was on time and published a couple of timely recipes too, but this blog, this blog I wish had made it to you last Thursday.

And that brings me to the point.  This last year and a bit have been full of wishes.  Lots of missed opportunity for perfection that was dwelt upon for way too long.  I wished that I could have had a normal pregnancy and birth with my daughter, I wished my husbands job and love of country hadn't taken him so far from us, I wished we could have moved into our first home - with him... I wished for a live in nanny who could miraculously and seamlessly slip in and out of our lives just when we were most exhausted, but not be around so much as to fill every family video with her, and to find her at the table with my children calling her "mommy" (there was not such a person, but the darker sides of me ponder the thought often).

So many wishes stacked one on top of another.  Wishing, I'm afraid, can sometimes lead to regretting.  And in all that regretting we can forget to be thankful.  I forget.

So I'm doing something early. Yup, you heard me - EARLY! (Shock and ah is what I'm going for here).  

I'm making a resolution.

32 Days before the new year, I'm resolving to be thankful 100 times.  I suppose that means I will have to double up on some blogs.  Ok, let's be realistic (so that I'm not regretting this), I'm going to have to name quite a few things each time, but here is goes anyways (because I've already said it and now I have to follow through - unlike the cookies for the last contest winner which are still yet to be delivered - how lame am I?).

I am thankful for this reminder this last Thursday of what a blessed life I live. My extended family, friends, brothers, around my table. Wine in our cups and cider in our mugs. Children running about, one toddling on her own. My husband carefully placing beautifully carved moist meat on a bountiful platter. Sweet potatoes with marshmallows (you heard me). Pecan pie. Walnuts from my yard in every dish. A family portrait posed in a clean kitchen before guests arrived. I am thankful.

Ok, that was one.  99 to go.

Homemade cranberry sauce - because you can!

Oh come on, you know you want to make it this year. If you feel any love for Mouse in the Pantry, PLEASE put away the canned sauce and whip out a bag of real berries!

Homemade Cranberry Sauce

2  12ounce bags fresh cranberries
2 oranges 1 zested, both juiced
1 stick cinnamon
3 cups sugar
1 cup water (maybe a bit more if you are going to let it simmer for several hours)


In a medium sized pot combine cranberries, cinnamon stick, sugar the zest of one orange and the juice from both oranges. You can also add the whole leftover skins of the zested and juiced oranges to the mix at this point and just remove them after the cranberry sauce is done. Stir mixture and turn on  low on the back of the stove and cover.  Let simmer until berries begin to pop. You can turn it to a very low setting at this point and let it simmer till it thickens.  Or, just turn it off and let sit on the back of the stove for a few hours.
Enjoy

Pumpkin Pie from scratch

It wouldn't be the holidays without a few recipes.  So if you're out their searching for a little thanksgiving flavor, here is a great (and completely from scratch) recipe for Pumpkin pie - but you better get started today roasting those pumpkins!

Roasting Sugar Pumpkins

1 to 2 sugar pie pumpkins
Double layer cheese cloth
Rimmed sheet pan

*Select firm dark skinned sugar pumpkins.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Lightly grease a rimmed baking sheet with olive oil.

Slice each pumpkin in half.  Remove seeds and pulp.  Lay pumpkins open side down on pan.  Place in oven, and pour water around pan until it is 1/2 inch deep.
Bake for 35-50 minutes or until pumpkin can be easily pierced with a knife.

Cool pumpkins before scooping meat from skin. 

Using a double layer of cheese cloth, wring the pumpkin meat out over a large bowl to remove excess fluid.  Puree drained meat in a food processor for 2 minutes to make smooth.

Store pumpkin in refrigerator for two days or in freezer for 3 months.

Each small sugar pumpkin will provide 1-2 cups pumpkin meat

Sugar Pumpkin Pie
By Meloni Courtway

2 cups fresh pumpkin (or 1-15oz can pumpkin puree)
3 large eggs
½ cup heavy whipping cream
½ cup evaporated milk
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1-teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
Pinch of salt

Egg Wash: 1 egg white & two tablespoons cold water whisked together in a small bowl.

 


1.    Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

2.    Grease and lightly flour a 9-inch pie tin or dish.

3.    In a large bowl whisk eggs slightly. Add pumpkin, milks and spices and whisk again.  Set aside while preparing dough.

4.    Working on a lightly floured surface, roll out ½ recipe pate brisee in a ¼ inch thick round.  The dough should be roughly the width of a #2 pencil eraser.

5.    Working with cold hands, lift the dough into your prepped pie dish. Press gently into dish, making sure to make contact all over tin.

There are several ways to address the edges of your pie:

6.    Fluted edge: Trim dough, leaving 1½ inches of overhang.  Again working with cold, and lightly floured hands, fold the outer edge of the dough under itself and tuck into edge of dish.  Using your thumb and index finger of one hand and the index finger of the other hand, crimp the entire edge of the dough into fluted shape.  Chill dough for 10 minutes to firm up.

7.    Decorative edge: Trim dough to edge of pie tin, only leaving a ¼ inch overhang.  Using various dough cutters, or mini leaf shaped cutters make several cutouts (This ca even be creatively done with the edge of another larger cookie cutter). Using an egg wash, lightly brush edge and firmly apply cutouts.

8.    Pour pumpkin mixture into dough, only filling to just below fluted edge, as the custard will expand.

9.    Using a pastry brush, brush entire crust with egg wash.

10.    Bake for 40-50 minutes or until crust is browned and filling is set.  A knife inserted in center will come out clean. Chill completely before serving.

Serve with homemade whipped cream:

1-cup heavy whipping cream
3 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
1-teaspoon bourbon vanilla
In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine all ingredients. Whip on medium high speed until stiff peaks form. Keep chilled until serving.





Copyright 2008 Meloni Courtway.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.

Sleep little child

I am insanely furious this evening with my  husband.  H has the pleasure of getting up at 4:30 a.m. every morning to spend an hour by himself as he commutes to work, and another whole hour on the way home.  More time even if he's lucky and hit's traffic.

I however wake at the chipper hour of 6:30a.m. (but don't think I have really been sleeping, as our current early morning bed mate has been tossing and turning and begging for snuggles since 3 a.m. or so), and I haven't slept a sound wink. No, I digress, I have slept a couple of winks since 3 a.m., but none of them holy and peaceful.

So, anyways, I get up at 6:30 to follow the blue eyed girl off the bed and into what ever mess has been left from the night before.  And we begin.

We drive to school, we read, we hug brother goodbye.

We drive home, chanting, "Stay awake, stay awake!".  And I tap the breaks to jostle her eyes back open.  "Almost home!".  And into the house past the jumpy dog, to the crib for a dry diaper and a hug and some late morning rest.  And she goes to sleep. 

For twenty minutes.

And we're up again and about, and oh so happy to have rested, and play, play, play "Mama".  And we scream when mom puts us down to do the laundry (which mom won't finish), because we honestly haven't gotten enough sleep for a 1 year old. 

Back to school to get big brother and screaming all the way home. Into bed for an afternoon nap.

For twenty minutes.

Interrupting with more screams big brother and I doing his reading work.  Shes up  and shes mad, and I leave her for twenty more to fight it out as I work with the older one on some Mama time. 

And I can't pinpoint exactly why I hate my husband so much right now, but I know I do, and I can't tell him because he's in traffic on the way home and the radios turned up.

What a weird thing this growing up business is.  The navigation of life's ups and downs.  The realization that life is in fact, often unhappy.  The fact, sometimes slapping at your cheeks, that you must indeed make your own happiness.  You must find your way.

Have gathered by phone most of my siblings, cousins, in-laws this week.  All of us testing the waters about Thanksgiving.  All of us wanting to take ownership, but at the same time fearing the pending wrath of what is to come.  That families will gather around the table, will argue, will be uncomfortable amidst the mashed potatoes and overdone green beans.

This year should actually come off quietly, if all the cards have been played right.  Everyone at peace with one another around the table. Truly, friends gathered to enjoy each other.  But, I have had occasion to listen in to others conversations.  To hear whispers of unhappiness brewing, "oh God, yes, their coming to our house." 

There are the more subtle disgruntled folks out there too.  The passive, hide from the phone, the email, the FB in order to avoid an unwanted invite. I may be one of them (in hiding I mean).

There are families come apart, families just beginning to divide, and families bound so tightly together they don't realize there is in fact a great big world out there. A world so much bigger than just them.  There are lonely people this holiday too.

So much effort every year to make everyone feel included. So much effort to hide our hates and our wants and our lost hopes. We are supposed to suppress our dislike and be thankful. But do we? How can we fill such a tall order?

I am preparing to feast with abundance this year in the face of all this grown-up unhappiness, and to hold in my heart that I am thankful for the opportunity to afford such abundance in my own home.  Our first home.  I will force thankfulness out of my every aching cell.  I will find a silver lining.  I will make my own happiness, thank you very much (and you might try that one out for yourselves ladies and gentleman!).

I will let friends who are squabbling, and family who are lost, sort it out. I will be here, holding court, no judgments passed, just present. Feasting. My door is always open and my table plenty full.

24-hour Turkey Brine:

In a large pot combine 2 cups kosher salt, 2 gallons water, 1 cup brown sugar, 4 bay leaves, 1/4 cup peppercorns, 5 cloves of garlic, and 4 large oranges cut into quarters. Bring to a simmer to dissolve the sugar and salt fairly well. Cool completely. Put turkey in a bucket and cover the bird with the cooled brine, by a couple of inches. Add more water or some cold beer if you don't have enough to cover it. NOW - you have to keep it cold, so if a bucket won't fit in your fridge, try a cooler with ice around it, or just use a clean cooler to hold the turkey and brine and add ice to keep it relatively cold.

I get a five gallon bucket and fill it with a salty brine. Submerge that bird for 24 hours before cook time (with a weight on top). Drain, stuff with halved oranges, 1 rough chopped yellow onion, rosemary and sage. Rub with olive oil and roast as you would a regular bird

Meringues, Madness and Sir Mix-a-lot

 

 

 

 

 

Last weekends revelry was so completely over the top, it's taken me this long to fill you in with a few choice shots.

Wine, dine and desserts with girls left this momma collapsed on the couch. Now up and fighting the beastly school week, I thought I better share party picks from Petaluma and beyond.

Your own Mouse in the Pantry was even seen performing a full rendition (complete with dance steps), of Sir Mix-a-lot's famous Baby Got Back, somewhere between the Meringue and the Oysters, while driving around the hills of healdsburg.  Glad we don't have a shot of that!

shoo

Is it possible that my house is in some kind of tropical state of confusion.  There has been frost on my front lawn for the last three mornings, I have bundled the children when we leave the house and I myself have been eying some big bulky sweaters at local stores.  And yet, there are flies buzzing about everywhere here like it's a hot summer day in Petaluma.

Bouncing from the fan blades to the closet doors to the kitchen counter - yuck, they are everywhere and persistent.

Help.  How to rid my abode of these flitter-fluts flapping about?