Everything Tastes (and is) Better Camping

For Labor Day weekend, I went camping with a group of friends- Evan's guys plus their girlfriends (and a few stragglers). Prior to heading out for our weekend expedition to Fort Flagler, I was a little concerned about two things: the weather and the food. The forecast called for rain, rain, rain all weekend. And the food... not that I was dreading it or anything, but I've known these guys for a long time. BBQs at their house in college were always BYOF: Bring Your Own Food, and like Evan, they all think Chipotle and McDonalds are gourmet. Needless to say, I was slightly concerned.

The morning of our departure, I packed up all the food Evan and I prepared- everything we needed to survive if no one else brought supplies- secretly hoping to impress the group (and by impress, I mean bring the best food and get oohs and ahhs from everyone, of course). I brought LeAnn's Spinach Dip with crackers, chocolate chip cookies, and the fixin's for one of Evan's favorite meals (and a camping must-have) Girl Scout Packets. We grabbed the ice chest (also heavily laden with beer), and headed out into the rainiest day Seattle had seen in months.

I was expecting nothing but hot dogs and downpours. As usual, I was proven wrong. Other than a brief spurt of rain Sunday afternoon, we had blue skies and sunshine. And the food...not only did we have more than enough food, with everyone bringing loads and loads of supplies, but we also ate like we were in a five-star restaurant. Ok, not really (not at all), but everything tastes better when you're camping.

We started out Saturday with a lunch of campfire-steamed whole crab with garlic butter (courtesy of Dave and Nadia), which we ate standing over the picnic table, butter and juices running down our arms (camping brings out the heathen in all of us). We snacked on dip and chips, fresh veggies, two kinds of cookies, and of course, hot dogs. For night one's dinner, Mike and Mark took the helm at the cook stove, preparing a meal I would normally feed to the dog when no one was looking: Hamburger (and hot dog) Helper. I don't know what it is about camping, but I have to say it... that was some damn good Helper (I'm just happy it was dark so we couldn't see the neon orange colored sauce that we scraped off the pot the next morning). For breakfast Sunday, we made a sausage-egg scramble, with extra bacon and sausage on the side, washed down with French-press coffee and cream.

For lunch, we were treated to rain, and a surprise from Kyle. Little did I know, Kyle's mom used to own and operate her own Filipino restaurant in Port Orchard, and he worked in the kitchen for years. He had intended to make chicken skewers, but the brief rain shower put a stop to that, and instead we just had chicken cooked on the cook stove. Good enough for me!


Kyle's chicken was marinated in a soy/pineapple/garlic blend, and he cooked it up to gooey, crispy perfection on the Coleman. I think the whole campground was jealous of the delicious scents wafting out of our campsite!


After a long hike and exploration of the old (scary) barracks at Fort Flagler, I prepared the Girl Scout Packets. Girl Scout Packets are something I made years (and years and years) ago in Girl scouts, and have since made for Evan in our oven. The basic gist is to wrap meat and veggies in foil, and cook over the fire until everything is soft and almost stew-like in its juices. Our packets had ground beef, carrots, potatoes, onions, butter, and seasoning salt, double wrapped in foil. That simple.

The packets were delicious, with a smokiness you can only get cooking over an open campfire. We ate them straight out of the foil, with a side of fire-roasted garlic bread, followed by Chelsea's homemade apple pie. Such basic food, but for some reason, everything is always better camping.

LeAnn's Spinach Dip

This is a pretty basic, pretty delish dip! Mix together the following:

1 packet of dry ranch dressing mix
Equal parts mayo and sour cream (about 1 to 1.5 cups of each, can vary depending on your tastes)
1 can water chestnuts, chopped
1 box frozen spinach- thawed, drained, and chopped (be sure to wring out and get rid of excess liquid)

Lunch Break

(Photos courtesy of Brian's iPhone)

My company's office happens to be located directly above the legendary Salumi Artisan Cured Meats- a mouthwatering Italian style Salumeria created by none other than Armandino Batali... the father of Iron Chef Mario Batali. I've always heard great things about the salami at Salumi. I've seen the lunchtime lines stretching around the block. I've gazed longingly at the cured meats hanging in the window... but I had never actually tried Salumi... until today.


I happen to share an office with several avid and adventurous young foodies such as myself, and today two of them- Brian and Rose- suggested lunch at Salumi (last time we went to Skillet, where I had the out-of-this-world rockfish tacos!) Being mid week, a short holiday week, and given the crazy construction on the street outside Salumi's storefront door (which also makes for a noisy workday), we figured the line wouldn't be too bad. I don't know if we were right, or we lucked out and got there just in time, but we only waited in line about 20 minutes. And boy was it worth it.




I originally wanted the daily special- Pork Cheeks Sandwich. But the closer I got to ordering, more and more salami came into view, throwing me into a tailspin. Rose got the Muffa. Brian flip flopped between the meatball and the porchetta- finally landing on the porhcetta sandwich-essentially an Italian pulled pork. I don't really even remember ordering, I was in such a daze by the time my turn finally arrived. But, with the help of the sandwich-maker-extraordinaire, I ended up with a Salami sandwich, made with the mole salami (spiced and cured with chocolate, cinnamon, peppers). The thin sliced, rich, flavorful salami was layered onto chewy ciabatta bread that was slathered with 2 delicious sauces- one oily and garlicky, the other creamy with flecks of parsley. The salami was topped with fresh pulled mozzarella and tender grilled onions and peppers. I devoured it. I licked the paper wrapping clean... had I not been at work, I probably would have tired to eat that too...


It. was. amazing. Believe what they say... it's all true. I know, you're saying 'but it's just a salami sandwich...' Well, think again, my friend. It will rock your world. All day I thought about the sandwich- with the peppery, smokey salami and the bread that soaked up the sauces just enough to be incredibly chewy and soft, yet still hold up to the fillings. Next time I want to try the meatball, made with Salumi's special recipe pork meatballs. Or maybe the grilled lamb, topped with roasted red pepper. Although... once I get in there and see the salami hanging in the case, there's no telling what I'll end up with, but at least I know it will be fantastic and well worth the wait.

Sgt. Clafoutis

Our hero has returned!

My dear friend (and Evan's past roommate), Mike, has returned to Seattle... from over a year on tour with the US Army in Iraq. We missed Mike like crazy during his time abroad, and have been waiting impatiently for him to come home. Leading up to Mike's return, we were informed that he had a few requests: fried chicken at Ezell's and a 12 egg omelet at Beth's Cafe... not to mention he had been reading Loves Food, Loves to Eat, and was expecting something delicious from my oven. Instead of going out on the town with the guys on Mike's first night back, I took off my heels, put on an apron, and hit the kitchen.

What does one make for a returning soldier, someone who was without homemade treats for so long, someone who hasn't hugged his mom or kissed a girl for a year, someone who's been living off of nothing but bland military rations and crude male humor since 2007? A clafoutis, of course!

Not only is clafoutis fun to say, it also represents all the things Mike has been living without...fruity, chocolaty, custardy, and feminine- a perfect welcome home treat! I had never actually made a clafoutis, and turned to my trusty Gourmet magazine for inspiration. Tweaking a Chocolate Raspberry Clafoutis recipe to make use of the bag of cherries on my counter, I got to work making a very 'girly' sounding dessert for a very manly man- chocolate cherry clafoutis.

Having never even tasted clafoutis before, I decided there was absolutely no way I was serving this new dessert to friends without first tasting it myself. I thought Mike wouldn't mind if I ate one little sliver of the custardy cake. On my first slice, I was pleasantly surprised by the creamy custard center, and in love with the crispy chocolaty edges. On my second slice, I savored the sweet, juicy cherries. On my fifth slice, I marveled at how the chocolate chunks on top melted into a perfect rich glaze. By my eighth slice, some of the chocolate topping had hardened, creating a not-to-sweet chocolaty crunch that contrasted amazingly with the silky smooth custard... Before I knew it, I had devoured half of Mike's welcome home clafoutis.

The next morning, after the boys had their big night out, the wait at Beth's Cafe was too long, and Ezell's was too far away. Lucky for Mike, he had (less than) half a clafoutis waiting for him, chocolaty and rich, gooey and fruity, the perfect dessert for a great friend. Next time, I'll try to make Mike a full clafoutis... but we'll see how far that gets me.

Chocolate Cherry Clafoutis

(Adapted from Gourmet Magazine)

2-3 cups pitted & halved dark cherries
1 T sugar
1 cup whole milk
1/2 stick unsalted butter, melted
3 large eggs
1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
2 T unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 t salt
1/2-3/4 cup coarsely chopped dark or bittersweet chocolate

Preheat oven to 400°F
Butter a shallow baking dish or tart pan
Toss berries with granulated sugar and let stand 15 minutes.
Blend milk, butter, eggs, brown sugar, flour, cocoa, and salt in a blender until smooth.

Scatter berries (with juices) evenly in baking dish, then pour batter over top.
Bake on center rack until slightly puffed and firm to the touch, about 35 minutes.

Remove from oven and immediately sprinkle with chopped chocolate. Cool to warm, about 20 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature... with a friend... or by yourself.

Fruit of the (heir)Loom

I love tomatoes. This summer my love of tomatoes has turned into a near obsession (compared to last summer, when I had a weird acidic-mouth-burning-reaction every time I ate them, which severely limited my tomato intake). I can’t get enough of them. Sliced and sprinkled with salt and pepper. Dolluped with mayo. Drizzled with olive oil and topped with fresh basil. Sandwiched and dripping between two chewy slices of rustic bread. On a bagel with cottage cheese. In a salad with chunks of mozzarella and cubes of garlicky French bread. If it has tomato in it, I want it in my mouth.

Unfortunately, delicious tomatoes in Seattle are hard to come by. I grew up eating fresh, juicy, flavorful, sun-soaked, homegrown tomatoes straight out of the garden. Store bought tomatoes are, by comparison, like eating cardboard. Of course I could go to the farmers’ market, but this summer has proven far too busy for leisurely Sunday strolls through the market. Yeah, I could join a CSA, but I was unemployed for 2 months right at the beginning of the summer share, and couldn’t fork out the necessary dough for a bounty of fresh summer produce. I mean, sure, I could buy sweet, hearty heirloom tomatoes, but at $7.99 a pound (no joke)… in Mel’s words, that’s highway robbery. So, aside from the garden tomatoes Mel and John have given me the few times I’ve seen them this summer, I’ve been reduced to eating vegetable flavored cardboard.

But wait…vegetable flavored? Aren’t tomatoes fruit!? Yes! They are! Store bought tomatoes in Seattle, however, are so flavorless that fruit is ashamed to claim them, making the tomato one very confused vine-dweller. It isn’t until you bite into a juicy, sweet, homegrown or heirloom tomato that you realize why they call it a fruit. Recently, I was having good-tomato withdrawal, and decided to take advantage of a “sale” on heirlooms ($4.99/lb), and put the tomato-as-a-fruit conundrum to the test.

Using heirloom tomatoes and that other fruit-that’s-confused-as-a-vegetable, avocados, I made a delicious summery fruit salad—one where tomatoes can truly call themselves fruit, without the ridicule and torment of their adversaries.


With the tart-sweet bite of the stone fruits, the acidic tang of the grapefruit and orange, the deep sugary richness of the cherries, and the sweet but not-too-sweet flavor of the tomatoes and avocados, fruits and vegetables-come-fruits melded together to create a perfect union. I ate this salad immediately after tossing, a few hours later, and the next day, and it was fantastic every time.



Tomato and Avocado Fruit Salad
(Serves 2 as a full meal, 4-6 as a side)

2 large nectarines
1 large pink grapefruit (remove peel and seeds)
2 large heirloom tomatoes, any variety
1 large avocado
1 ½ cup of pitted, halved cherries (use a dark, sweet variety, like bing)
1 large navel orange (remove peel and seeds)
1-2 plums

Cut fruit into large chunks, and toss together with their juices. Enjoy salad on its own, topped with yogurt (honey flavored Greek, if you can find it), or, as I did the next day, on a whole wheat bagel with a schmear of cream cheese and a drizzle honey.

Watch out apples… tomatoes might just be the new ‘it’ fruit!

Movin' On Up

I apologize for my August-absence! I have barely had a chance to eat anywhere special, or even pick up a kitchen knife. I have, however, made a few tasty treats… which will be coming up on here soon… once things settle down! There’s been a lot going on, and I suppose now’s the time to let you in on the juicy details, so you don’t think just up and abandoned you… (and so you don’t up and abandon me!)

Evan and I entered into cohabitation. That’s right… we moved in together! After 5 years of dating, we finally took that plunge! This month has been insane with apartment hunting, packing, cleaning, packing, moving… I’ve been a bit of a nut-case, and have had zero time to dedicate to anything beyond work and moving… not to mention I have had no access to internet!

We are finally moved in, but are still living out of boxes. The new place has a balcony (yay!) sunlight (yay!) two bedrooms (yay!), A LOT MORE COUNTER SPACE, and newer kitchen appliances (including a dishwasher)! Did I ever mention that when I was cooking up all those delicious meals before… it was sans dishwasher...?

I still have a few more crazy weeks coming up… visiting the ‘rents this weekend, labor day camping next weekend, Brit’s bachelorette the following weekend, and her wedding the one after…but once things settle down I’ll be doing more cooking, writing, and photo-snappin’ than ever before. I even hope to host a few dinner parties in the roomier new abode!


And since I haven’t posted in so long, here’s a little something to keep you interested: happy hour at Ocho with David and Megan, which included an amazing drink that was garnished with a beet skewered on a rosemary sprig, spicy garlic prawns, Patatas Bravas (spicy potatos), Croquetas Borrachas (fried goat cheese), Banderilla de Boquerón (anchovy, roasted red pepper, and fried artichoke), and juicy gossip with fun friends. See ya soon!

My Oma is Better than Yours

When you have an Oma, you have no choice but to be crazy about food and cooking. Amanda and I got our food-frenzy from our parents, and John most certainly got it from his parents- my Oma and Opa.

Oma and Opa (my Yugoslavian grandparents...from back when there was a Yugoslavia) came to the good ol’ US of A in the early 50’s, with the twins Walter and Ernie in tow, and lil’ Johnny just a bun in the oven. Having survived the war, Oma and Opa spoke no English, had little money, and set out to achieve the American Dream. They ended up in southern California (Hemet, to be exact) where they started an egg ranch. From raising chickens and selling eggs for a living, to making homemade sausages, liquor, goulash, paprikash, spaetzel, schnitzel, and strudel for their growing family, Oma and Opa had a love affair with food from get-go, and passed it directly to their boys- who have taken turns working in restaurants and butcher shops, and who all have fantastic gardens and palates.


Growing up, Amanda and I experienced these delicious traditions through Oma’s Christmas boxes (Oma cookies will kick the butt of your American Grandma cookies any day). Filled to the brim with homemade Christmas cookies (nutty crescents, jam filled butter cookies, sugar cookies with a lemony icing) and thick, heavy strudels with flaky sweet dough (a walnut/rum/raisin, and a gooey-amazing poppy seed) the arrival of these gift baskets meant Christmas had truly arrived. Growing up we didn’t always have the means to make trips to Southern California from Washington, so Oma’s Christmas cookies were the next best thing.

In the summer of 2002, Amanda and I visited Oma and Opa for the first time in about 7years (for the first time as adults), and were greeted with the best of all greetings- a ham hot from the oven with homemade horseradish and fresh juicy garden tomatoes, hot cabbage rolls in flaky wonton type wrappers-still dripping from the fry pan (just a snack, Oma says), and crispy yet moist homemade ‘fryin chicken’ (just an appetizer, Oma says). During that visit, we ate until we could barely move, played more games of dominoes than I can count, marveled at old black and white photos of Oma and Opa in Europe in the 40s and 50s, and snuck into the Orange groves with Opa, where he proceeded to climb trees and toss oranges to us. Opa passed away later that summer, and we have never forgotten how special that trip was, or how happy we were to have spent that time with him. Since then, the four of us (John, Mel, Amanda and I) have made sure to visit more often… which we just did.

Last weekend the fam flew down to Hemet. Our trip started, as most Oma visits do, with a hot freshly baked ham (even in 100 degree Southern Californian August), made into sandwiches on rolls slathered with horseradish and piled high with Uncle Walter’s juicy sweet tomatoes. We dined on ham sandwiches morning, noon, and night, in addition to sticky buns, cookies, pork chops, pasta salads, chicken & rice, burgers, and potatoes. Halfway through our trip, Oma pulled a tray of cabbage rolls from the fridge… all rolled up and ready to fry. We devoured those in seconds.


On our final morning at Oma’s, Amanda and I got a lesson in Oma Cookery. Oma’s “fryin’ chicken” is somewhat of a legend. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, really, just basic fried chicken, but Mel, try as she might, has never been able to recreate the golden fried deliciousness of Oma’s chicken. Amanda and I donned our European style aprons and got to work, frying chicken with our Oma. You can try to recreate Oma's chicken, but it probably won't be the same if you don't actually make it with an Oma.


Oma’s Fryin’ Chicken:

Step 1: Combine 2 granddaughters and 1 Oma
Step 2: Button up your Euro-style aprons
Step 3: Have Uncle Walter or Uncle Ernie de-bone the chicken breasts and slice them thinly
Step 4: Arrange said chicken breasts in kitchen sink and pat dry- sprinkle first with seasoning salt, then with salt & pepper- rub.
Step 5: Whisk 'a little bit' of milk with eggs in a bowl, mix 50/50 Italian bread crumbs and plain in a flat dish, fill another flat dish with flour.
Step 6: Dip chicken breasts in flour, egg, breadcrumbs- repeat with all pieces. NOTE: gently pat breadcrumbs into chicken… do not flatten with your fist.
Step 7: Pour vegetable oil into electric skillet circa 1962 (they just don’t make them like they used to). Heat to about 467 degrees.


Step 8: Add chicken pieces to oil, turning once after a minute or two.
Step 9: Drain on paper towels.
Step 10: Eat as much as you can possibly stuff in your overly full belly, then pack the rest for the plane ride.
Step 11: Hug Oma, kiss Oma on the cheek, devour chicken, repeat.

Hot Child in the City

It's. So. Hot.

Today's heat wave is supposed to be an all time high for Seattle. Everyone else in the country thinks we're just whiners that can't handle a 102 degree day, but they don't understand that Seattle is not equipped with AC!

Last weekend I ran in the Ragnar Relay (185 mile team relay from Blaine to Langley)! It was awesome and the best time ever, and I kicked ass (my contribution was 11.5 miles, not the full 185). I also got 2 hours of sleep and ate nothing but power bars for 40 hours. Since returning, I've been too tired and lazy, and it's been too hot to do anything. Too hot to cook dinner. Too hot to walk to the grocery store. Sorry readers, but this week my diet has not been one to write home about.

For dinner last night I had a nice cold Pacifico (Thanks Anthony), and saltines with brie and orange marmalade. It took all the strength I had to prepare even that. Let me tell ya though, there is something very satisfying about a cold beer and crackers with cheese for dinner.

The beer kept me from melting all over the floor, the cracker-cheese-marmalade combo was the perfect mix of salty, creamy, sweet, and zesty. Ahh. Nothin' like sprawling out in your sweltering apartment in a bikini next to your panting miserable cat,with an ice cold beer and a slightly upscale lunchable.

Tonight (after a long sweaty ride home from work in the Metro sauna bus) it's going to be Tecate and Popsicles for dinner. Welcome back to Washington, Evan. Land of Mexican beer and snack-food dinners.