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Anyone that comes in contact with me, my kitchen or my ordering habits knows I heart cheese. I love the texture, the smell, the styles, the history, the purity of it all. I like that the smooth just has much as the hard and the stinky just as much as the faint odors. On my list of things to do in the cheeseworthy category:
Visit Murray’s cheese caves
Make homemade mozzarella
And finally one I can cross off the list:
Make homemade ricotta
[Insert proud and large beaming smile here]
I came across a recipe from Smitten Kitchen on how to make homemade ricotta and thought it would be a nice intro to the cheese-making-world. I am still looking for the right citric acid for the mozzarella anyway, so I had some time for another challenge.
The ingredients were easy to collect…
3 cups of whole milk, 1 cup heavy cream, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, 3 tablespoons of fresh squeezed lemon juice, candy thermometer, cheesecloth and a strainer
I combined the milk, cream and salt into a saucepan, attached the thermometer and turned the heat on low. There is a warning about the bottom of the pot scorching. It’s funny how the first time you make something I follow directions and then by the third or fourth time around I tend to wing it. I carefully monitored the mixture, stirring it occasionally, until it reached 190 degrees F.
I turned the heat off, added the lemon juice and stirred it a few times to incorporate. I left the pot alone for 5 minutes.
I prepped the cheesecloth, strainer and bowl while I waited. I also used this time to clean up the counter. I can’t help myself.
I then poured the curds and whey into the strainer lined with cheesecloth and let the curds strain away from the whey. Can we discuss how happy I am to really know what ‘curds and whey’ are? I mean all of these years of “eating her curds and whey” and now I know and can attest to what that actually is. It really is the little things. Who knew Little Miss Muffet had this going for her.
The original directions said to leave the mixture for at least an hour. At one hour it is supposed to be tender, spreadable ricotta. At two hours, it is supposed to be spreadable but a bit firmer, like cream cheese.
I left my curds hanging out for about 3 hours, since the whey kept separating from the curd, I figured it was safe to leave it alone for longer. You can’t judge the texture based on this point anyway as the ricotta will firm up more when it is refrigerated.
Here is the finished product! The most amazing ricotta you have ever put in your face. I served it on a spoon to my mouth when it was just me and then on amazing garlic bread with salt, pepper and truffle oil to my dinner guests. One you go homemade, you’ll never go back.
“Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.” ~ Harriet Van Horne
It is no secret that live music is my thing. Being in front of a musician doing their thing is electrifying and exciting. I have been attending concerts since before I was old enough to stand. My mother had me in the bass case of Dave Holland, named me after Thelonius Sphere Monk and dressed as purple velvet witch for the 1985 Grateful Dead Halloween show. She and many others have brought music to me. It’s my happy place.
With hundreds of shows under my belt, it seems that Michael Franti and Spearhead are the current winners in the smile department.
Pictured here with Michael at the Dave Matthews Band Caravan in Atlantic City this past weekend.
After a few, “It’s nice to see you again,” a guitar pick and numerous dancing in the front of a venue. I did it. I was in the front row for a Michael Franti performance and better yet, had a kind fellow concert goer take our picture. In case you had trouble deciphering it, that’s was pure happiness looks like. It’s embodied in a genuine smile. Not a posed smile or a fake smile or a no teeth smile. It’s just a grin. The kind of grin that arrives when you are near your musical genius crush.
“I think music in itself is healing. It’s an explosive expression of humanity. It’s something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we’re from, everyone loves music.” ~ Billy Joel
One of the scariest differences between city life and country life (besides animal life, the dark and losing cell service) is drinking and driving.
After the recent death of Jackass’s Ryan Dunn, I have been even more sensitive that usual about drinking and getting behind the wheel. On any given night my friends and I are out in Kingston, or the surrounding area, you can watch someone drinking a number of drinks, leave the bar or restaurant, go into the parking lot, get into their car or truck, start the car and drive away. It puts a pit in my stomach every time.
My group of friends is fairly responsible, usually designating a driver. The DD usually stays sober or has a drink or two over a number of hours. This brings up an entirely different issue of how many drinks can you have and still be “fine” to drive, but at least someone is conscious of having to get everyone home safe.
One of my friends has been known to get behind the wheel and drive home. Often sighting, “I’m fine” or “It’s just a short way” or “Nothing is going to happen.” All the traditional ignorant responses to “Why did you drive home?” I am not sure if it’s belligerence, stupidity, fearlessness, a deceptive case of invincibility or a little of all of these factors, but I do know is it makes me incredibly sad. I wish this friend and anyone else in my immediate circle would just call me or get a cab or go to sleep in their car or walk or think clearly for one second – the very second that it takes to realize getting behind the wheel IS NOT A GOOD IDEA.
DWIs seems to be rampant in our area. I hear about them through my friends in law enforcement, a friend of a friend of someone who got arrested or even first hand from a few of my acquaintances. I guess this means law enforcement is doing a good job. I think it could be better. I don’t blame the law enforcement all together though. I think it is all of our jobs to encourage others to not drink and drive. It is your job, just as much as mine, to take keys away from a friend, make up excuses to stall them in their tracks or not drink ourselves so we can safely drive when going out. I plan on having this very conversation with each one of my friends in the country. This is when the city wins. Public transportation.
Watching Jackass star Bam Margera grieve over his dear friend brought tears to my eyes. I never ever want to be in his shoes. Ever.
Recklessness is a species of crime and should be so regarded on our streets and highways. ~ Marlen E. Pew
At 16 years old you are concerned about a lot of things – school, clubs, friends, drama, peer pressure, boys, and of course your image. If you had told me then that none of that would really matter I would not have believed you. In July of 1998 I was diagnosed with stage one ki-one non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. My family became a sponge for endless recommendations, consultations, diagnoses and information. It wasn’t just me who had cancer, WE had cancer. And the next three months of treatment, hair loss and illness happened to all of us. Without my mother Devi, my father Rob and my sister Ali and the rest of my family and friends, I would not be here today to tell the story of success.
I was treated at Schneider’s Children’s Hospital at Long Island Jewish in New Hyde Park, Long Island, New York. I got “dressed up” to go to the hospital. I reported to my friends and family on how I was doing. I shaved my head as it started to fall out. I made a pledge to help others with this disease. I committed to surviving. And yes, there were dark days, but I never let the idea of beating that disease leave my heart, mind or spirit for too long.
It has been two years since I was told that I never had to go to the oncologist EVER again. It’s been seven years since I was told I was “CURED.” It has been eight years since I joined Relay for Life and the recorded breaking Team Pixie Dust. And it was only this morning, when I woke up, that I appreciated the gift of another day. I am often heard saying I wouldn’t change a thing of my past, that surviving cancer is what has helped to define me as a person and made me the individual I am today.
With hope, dedication and Relay, I am assured that we will all be in a better place on day. I Relay because I join people around the world to celebrate those who have survived cancer, remember the people we’ve lost, and fight back by supporting the lifesaving mission of the American Cancer Society. This is my 8th year at Relay with Team Pixie Dust, graciously lead by the Gross family in memory of our friend, mother, sister and inspiration, Diane Gross. It has been an amazing journey and we are very excited to add another Relay tomorrow at Alvin P. William Memorial Park in Woodbridge, NJ. Please consider making a donation to the American Cancer Society through my Relay for Life page.
Cancer once defined me. I was the “girl who had cancer.” I was bald or had a wig. For years after, I was titled a “cancer survivor” and it was synonymous to my name and my identity. Today, twelve years later, people I know in this stage of my life may not even know that I had cancer. That I am an extreme advocate of early detection, fair treatment and continuous research. That I will always know what being different is like. That my scars are my battle wounds. That I am stronger than can ever be defined by a title or a disease.
“Don’t let nobody ever tell you that it couldn’t be done, Don’t let nobody ever tell you that we couldn’t be one, Don’t let nobody ever tell you that it shouldn’t be sung, Don’t let nobody ever tell you you’re the only one…” ~ Michael Franti
I am ready.
I am ready for it to stop raining. I am ready for sundresses and flip-flops.
I am ready to fall in love.
I am ready to change my hair color.
I am ready to create.
I am ready to let go.
I am ready to move on.
I am ready to forgive, but not forget.
I am ready to manifest change on a higher level and help the people around me to do the same.
I am ready to bake. And cook. And make homemade mozzarella.
I am ready for the rest of my life to get started.
I am ready to change my bedspread.
I am ready to say goodbye to my insecurities.
I am ready to accept help.
I am ready to clean out my closets, material and intangible.
I am ready to make a difference.
I am ready to dance.
I am ready.
“It just goes to show you that you don’t really know how impactful you are on someone’s life. It’s really important to be the best person you can be because you don’t know what kind of an impact your actions are having on the other person. ” ~ Thea Linscott on July 1, 2009
Want to read how one Unrunner is cured of her traumatic lobster experience with a slice of my very own butterscotch cake with butterscotch filling, chocolate frosting and chocolate ganache decorations?
1. I recently made this cake for a dear friend. It was 6 layers, one for every rainbow color, and was adorned with a rainbow lotus flower and rainbows with clouds.
In the next couple of weeks I have some confections on my plate and since the kitchen is the ONLY place where my month-long stress eye twitch goes away, I’m all for spending some time there. I am gearing up for an ice cream cake for my brother-from-another-mother, baby boy cupcakes for my absolute best friend’s little sister, a dear friend’s wedding shower cupcakes, a birthday cake for my mother, a graduation cake for my nearest and dearest massage therapist and nurse grads and something extravagant for my little sister’s graduation from NYU. OMG. WTF. When did my little sister become legal to drink, get a job and rule the world. I must have blinked.
2. I am desperately awaiting the arrival of ramps.
Last year’s ramp selection, at $11.99 a pound, I used them wisely. Bacon ramp pizza, buttermilk ramp biscuits and ramp alfredo.
Perhaps what is more exciting than waiting for them to hit my local store is the 2011 Ramp Fest. The anticipation is unmanageable. Anyone else want to join me on the 30th from 1:00 p.m. – 5:00 p.m. I will be the girl in all my ramp glory. Smiling and taking pictures and undoubtedly getting inspired by some amazing chefs in the Hudson Valley.
3. The sun.
I know it is hiding out there somewhere and it teases me just enough to let me know it’s coming. The grey needs to go away. And the sun needs to stay longer than a day. I have faith, it will stick around eventually.
4. Over the next couple of months our lives have been and continue to be filled with music… “everyone deserves music, sweet music.” ~ Michael Franti
We recently checked out Rachel Yamagata at the Bearsville Theatre in Woodstock, the Wood Brothers at Club Helsinki in Hudson, Bob Marley Tribute at the Bearsville Theatre and Badfish at The Chance in Poughkeepsie.
And on our plates is Mountain Jam at Hunter Mountain, Mendelson Men Choir at the Old Dutch Church in Kingston, Shemekia Copeland at Club Helsinki, Festival for Humanity in Vernon, and the Dave Matthews Caravan in Atlantic City.
5. It’s hard to imagine BBQs and patio time when it is so grey out, but I am sure we will get there soon. Right?
Awake, thou wintry earth
Fling off thy sadness!
Fair vernal flowers, laugh forth
Your ancient gladness!
~ Thomas Blackburn from “An Easter Hymn”
This is when NYC wins. Every. Single. Time.
Pizza on 8th between 55th and 56th at 2:00 a.m.
Théa and Noel have been kookin’.
As a stellar foodie duo, we create healthful Sunday Night Dinners, holiday celebrations and food on-the-fly for our friends in the Hudson Valley. City Mouse – Thea – brings presentation, creativity and tradition and Country Mouse – Noel – brings style, expertise and vitality to the table every time. It is important that we utilize our resources responsibly to sustain local merchants, farmers and artisinal crafters.
Théa – The City Mouse
Day job: Online brand manager for an international handbag company
For fun: cooking, entertaining, writing, travel
Favorite food: Pizza
Sign: Aquarius
Nicknames: Thay, Theloniuos, Thyza Louise, Thalya
Favorite dish to make: cake (cupcake, cheesecake, ice cream cake, chocolate beet cake, etc.)
Most prized kitchen tool: Kitchenaid Stand Mixer
Why am I a foodie?
When my grandfather, known by all as Pipop, passed away two years ago we taught my Nana a valuable lesson in today’s lingo. We discussed, “We’re out,” “whatup,” and even “redic.” I think one of the only things that stuck that week was, “foodie.” Defined by many as one who enjoys, makes, creates, appreciates, loves and does food.
At some point that week, after many homemade dinners, and even more deli platters and desserts, I said, “Nana, we’re foodies.” All in agreement, my entire immediate family nodded as it made perfect sense to us. I couldn’t tell you when that actually happened though. It could be the hundreds of family dinners, the dozens of holidays, countless BBQs, endless Sunday brunches or the meal that happens when there are a group of people at my parents house and there is a sudden combustion of plates, garlic and hungry mouths.
Being a child of a foodie is a big responsibility. You have to entertain like your parents do. You have to cook with your heart and not just your head. You have to do it just like them, but still in your own style. You have to know how much pasta is for 2, 4, or even 12 people. And perhaps, most importantly, you always have to be able to get back to where it all started. That table where the foodies once ate altogether.
Now that I live two hours away from my parents, I make sure to give notice and let the head-foodie-in-charge know when I will be back, for how long and if I will be there for dinner. That answer is always “yes” and “what do you want for dinner?”
What I think of my relationship with Noel!
Everything happens for a reason. Noel and I ended up at the same table in Uptown Kingston about a year ago. We shared lamb sliders, blood sausage and chocolate cristinis, huge roasted asparagus and sangria. We talked food. And not just what do you do for a living / for fun food. Real food conversations. About the earth, traditions and technique. Not being classically trained myself, I learned a lot about Noel’s culinary experience and trade. And most importantly her love for life. It matched mine.
Common ground found, friendship began and then we entered the kitchen together. Game changer. Comfort meeting healthy, local meeting mass distribution, dessert meeting vegetables and most importantly, nutrients for the soul created provided and shared.
Noel is the brightness in a dull day, the reminder of the earth we are from and the laughter that makes me spit my wine out, give a ‘lil snort and hide behind my apron.
Noel – The Country Mouse
Day job: Personal chef, community activist and childcare provider
For fun: cook with friends, read, hang with kids, garden and enjoy music
Favorite food: All dark leafy greens
Sign: Sagittarius
Nicknames: Noey, Curly Pumklin, Queen of Kale
Favorite dish(es) to make: Sauteed Greens, turkey burgers, gourmet pizza, tarts, veggie burgers, fish cakes, roasted veggies and roasted lemon chicken
Most prized kitchen tool: Personalized knife from Japan and onion goggles
Why am I a foodie?
I consider myself a foodie for a number of reasons all of which revolve around my love for people. I like to work creatively in the kitchen to share with others, what I call, “premium fuel” for the body. A good quality life containing healthful varieties of foods able to sustain, nourish and enliven others is just so awesome. Growing up with grandparents who grew and cooked most of their own food and a father who was adamant about providing well balanced meals has had an everlasting impact on how I utilize and value food. I have surrounded myself with friends who are passionate and active about the quality, health, sustainability and education of our food system. The Hudson Valley is booming with hand crafted sustainable farm to table connoisseurs and entrepreneurs, myself aiming to be an active participant.
What I think of my relationship with Théa!
Well…where to begin? When I think of Théa I always think of good times with good people, food and music. There is never a dull moment with and life is always lived to the fullest, if she has anything to do with it. I love this about Thea and I love how infectious it is on my life. Since we met, I have found my life to be more full with friends who enthusiastically sharing their passions and goals. This is important to me, because I am one who wanders through life exploring the endless possibilities to embrace. It seems there is always a door of opportunity awaiting around the corner and having encouragement and excitement from Théa is priceless . I would have to say that I think my relationship with her has been a gift so special that I shall never forget. And I endlessly thank her.
When in doubt of emotional stability, one should follow these simple steps:
1. Cook. It seems that standing in the kitchen, regardless of how cold the floor tiles are, makes a difference. Cooking allows creativity and consistency to happen at the same time. Whether it’s something you have never made before or a classic pasta dish that never goes wrong, cook. It’s food for the soul. Literally.
2. Plan visits. My girls came this weekend. It was a quick 24 hour trip, but made a HUGE impact on my emotional disposition. It’s also incredible how being friends since college has provided that loophole of it doesn’t matter how long we haven’t seen each other, we’ll just pick up where we left off. There was comfort in the conversations of work stress, home life perils, significant other or lack of complaints. And comfort in cheese. Lots of cheese. And cupcakes. And bread. And coffee. And wine. In no specific order.
3. Plan ahead. Thinking of things that are coming ahead on the calendar allows for anticipation and excitement to come through, healthy emotions that hopefully will kick ass on the ones getting you down. Writing things on the calendar or having a countdown (reasonable numbers work, hundreds not so much) also shows you when something you actually want to do is coming around the corner.
4. Don’t ignore that you are turning 29. Or whatever milestone year that is freaking you out. Not sure if it’s the number or how fast time is going, but make it stop! Please. And. Thanks. One solution is to pretend it doesn’t bother you, it may actually become reality as it’s hard to be miserable while celebrating. For example, heading to Mercato for an amazing dinner with the brother, his girlfriend and the roommate and then off to the symphony at Bard is an excellent distraction. And delicious, fun and memorable.
5. Give it up. Clearly dwelling on misery isn’t going to allow it to leave. I know, what a novel idea.
6. Don’t watch the weather. It’s never right, it’s going to snow no matter what s/he says and if you’re luck the sun will come out and it won’t feel like 12. Again.
7. Eat ice cream. Or whatever treat that you can have a bite of and feel a lil better. Moderation IS key, but hit the gym a little harder, starve yourself tomorrow or just pack on a few till spring. That’s why they make bulky sweaters and leggings.
More to come on how to make yourself feel better… it’s been a full-time job lately, so there are some pointers that may get us all through it.
“Healing takes courage, and we have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it.” ~ Tori Amos
