Every year, I take the stage at Renewing the Countryside’s booth and cook food sourced from regenerative farms. It’s a taste of why our local growers use methods that save topsoil, stem run-off, capture carbon, and protect pollinators and wild life. This year’s theme? Bird Friendly Farming. So, of course, I cooked chicken.

NOT just any chicken! Tree-Range chicken. These chickens roam the farm pecking bugs, grains, and grasses. They roost under hazelnut and elderberry trees that keep them cool and provide shelter from predatory eagles and raptors while the chickens fertilize the trees. No toxic chemicals are needed to produce chicken, nuts, and berries. The method differs from most “free-range” farms where birds are kept in rolling "chicken tractors,” that move across the land, but they are not actually free.

Tree-Range founder, Reginaldo Haslett-Marroquin (aka Regi) created this farming model based on his experience raising chickens in Guatemala where those birds thrive in multi-story jungles. Here, native hazelnuts and elderberries provide a similar habitat, one that builds soil and makes the land more resilient as we face the weather extremes of climate change. “I speak for the chickens,” says Regi.

To put a bird on it, I heard comments from the people who stopped by to say things like, “It’s the flavor of real chicken, the kind I grew up eating on our farm.” I’m not trying to compete with fried pickles, honey ice cream, cheese curds, doughnuts … but, this chicken saute, ready in about 15 to 20 minutes, was good enough FAIR fare.

State Fair Chicken Saute

Serves 4

Note that this is a very very flexible recipe. Feel free to switch up the vegetables depending on the season. Come fall, try chopped broccoli or cauliflower, winter squash, carrots, etc.

1-3/4 to 2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken thighs

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 teaspoon curry powder

2 to 3 tablespoons hazelnut or extra virgin olive oil

1 small onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, smashed

1 point cherry tomatoes

1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernels

1 yellow frying pepper, seeded and diced

½ cup diced green beans

1 cup chopped chard (or kale or collards)

2 to 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice or to taste

1 to 2 teaspoons Dukkah seasoning (or equal amounts ground cumin and fennel), to taste

Pinch red pepper flakes, to taste

¼ cup chopped basil

¼ cup chopped hazelnuts, optional

Toast or cooked pasta or whole grains

Cut the chicken into 2-inch pieces and season with salt, pepper, and curry powder.

Film a large skillet with the oil and set over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook, stirring, until translucent, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add the chicken and saute, turning often, until it begins to brown, about 5 minutes. Toss in the tomatoes, corn, peppers, and green beans; cover and cook until the tomatoes have softened, about 3 to 5 minutes. Remove the lid and poke the tomatoes if they haven’t already split. Toss in the chard, the Dukkah, red pepper flakes, and basil. Taste and adjust the seasonings and serve topped with the chopped nuts. Serve with toast or on cooked pasta or cooked whole grains.

The light slants golden, shadows lengthen; the air is crisp. It’s a whole new season and for me, a big transition from parent to grandparent. Two of our sons will become parents themselves. Time for a party! A baby shower!

The baby shower tradition dates back to the 19th century custom of putting gifts inside a parasol that, when opened, would “rain” presents upon the expectant mom. Last weekend, my sister-in-law, Kate and I hosted a baby shower. Our invitation encouraged friends to gift their favorite children’s book, an idea that inspired a menu of dishes of fairy tale foods — “give a mousse a muffin, muffins”, “green deviled eggs”, “where the wild things are mushroom toasts”, “red fish, blue fish, gold fishes”, “giving tree apples and peaches” … you get the idea. Kate added to the whimsey with place cards of book covers to identify each dish.

Thirty of us raised the roof with laughter and kindness and the kind of joy opening boxes of tiny hats and footie PJ’s brings. We paged through Winnie the Pooh and Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Bud Finds Her Gift. One of our friends brought the painted red sled on black runners that she had given our oldest son; we’d returned it to her when she became a grandma. It came back freshly painted and ready to go sparking memories of our son, as a toddler, flying down Kenwood Hill through the bright fluff of new show.

All these gifts under the proverbial parasol are evidence of the love and protection our friends rained on this beautiful new mom. Showers bring flowers, veggies, and good things to come: hope, renewal and … chaos and fun!

Recipes for Story Book Party.

Winnie the Pooh Honeyed Chevre

Makes 6 ounces

4 ounces chevre

2 ounces cream cheese

2 tablespoons honey, plus more for garnish

Toasts or crackers for serving

In a small bowl, whip together the chevre, cream cheese, and honey. Transfer to a pretty container and garnish with a drizzle of honey. Serve surrounded by crackers or toasts.

Give a Mouse A Chocolate Chip Cookie

Makes about 18 big cookies!

2 cups minus 2 tablespoons cake flour

1-2/3 cups bread flour

1-1/4 teaspoons baking soda

1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1-1/2 teaspoons coarse sea salt, plus more for sprinkling

1-1/4 cups unsalted butter

1-1/4 cups light brown sugar

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

2 large eggs

2 teaspoons natural vanilla extract

1-1/4 pounds bittersweet chocolate discs

In a large bowl, sift together the flours, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. In another bowl, cream together the butter and sugars until very light, about 5 minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Stir in the vanilla. Reduce the speed to low and add the dry ingredients and mix until just combined, about 5 to 10 seconds. Drop in the chocolate pieces and incorporate them into the dough with out breaking them. Press plastic wrap against the dough and refrigerate for 24 to 36 hours.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or nonstick baking mat and set aside.

Scoop 6 3-1/2-ounce mounds of dough (the size of golf balls) onto the baking sheet, making sure to turn horizontally any chocolate pieces poking up. Sprinkle lightly with salt and bake until golden brown but still soft, 18 to 20 minutes. Transfer the sheet to a wire rack for 10 minutes, then slip the cookies onto another rack to cool a bit more. Repeat with remaining dough or reserve dough, refrigerated, for baking the remaining batches the next day.

Deviled Green Eggs for Sam I Am!

Makes 12 deviled eggs

6 large hard-boiled eggs, peeled

2 ripe avocados

1 tablespoon lime juice

½ teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon sour cream, optional

1 tablespoon chopped cilantro, plus leaves for garnish

1 serrano pepper, seeded and chopped

1 tablespoon chopped chives

Cut the eggs in half. Scoop out the yolks and place in a bowl and set the egg whites on a platter.

Cut the avocados in half, remove the pit, scoop out the flesh and place in a separate bowl and roughly mash with a fork.

Break up two of the egg yolks over the mashed avocado, saving the remaining egg yolks for another use. Sprinkle with the lime juice and stir in the sour cream, chopped cilantro, pepper, and chives. Season to taste. Fill the egg whites with the avocado mixture and garnish with cilantro leaves before serving.

Eat Me Alice in Wonderland Cupcakes!

Makes 12 to 14 cupcakes

¾ cup all-purpose flour

½ cup unsweetened natural cocoa powder

1 teaspoon instant espresso powder

¾ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

2 large eggs

½ cup granulated sugar

½ cup packed light brown sugar

1/3 cup vegetable oil

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

½ cup buttermilk

Chocolate Icing of your choice

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a 12-count muffin tin with cupcake liners. (You may need to line two extra muffin cups; this makes a little extra batter). Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa, espresso, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, granulated and brown sugar, oil and vanilla until smooth. Pour half of the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, then add half of the buttermilk and whisk together. Repeat adding the remaining wet ingredients and buttermilk. Stir until just combined, do not over mix.

Pour the batter into the liners only halfway to avoid spilling over the sides. You may have extra batter to fill additional cups. Bake for 18 to 21 minutes until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool before frosting.

Give a Mouse a Banana Muffin!

Makes 10 to 12 muffins

1-1/2 all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg

1-1/2 cups mashed bananas

6 tablespoons melted butter

2/3 cup packed brown sugar

1 large egg

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

2 tablespoons milk

1 cup chopped nuts, optional

Preheat the oven to 425. Line a 12-count muffin pan with cupcake liners.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

In a large bowl, mash the bananas and beat in the melted butter, brown sugar, egg, vanilla, and milk. Pour the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients and whisk until combined. Stir in the nuts if using.

Spoon the batter into the liners filling them all the way to the top. Bake for 5 minutes at 425, then lower the heat to 350 and continue baking for an additional 16 to 18 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow the muffins to cool in the pan a few minutes before transferring to a wire rack.

Where the Wild Things are Mushroom Pate

Makes 3 cups

3 tablespoons butter

1 small onion, chopped

3 cloves garlic, chopped

¾ pounds mushrooms, chopped

½ teaspoon thyme

1 cup almonds, toasted

2 tablespoon olive oil

¼ cup balsamic vinegar

1 teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon pepper

Toasts for serving

Heat the butter in a large pan set over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic, mushrooms, and thyme and saute until the mushrooms have released all their liquid and begin to brown.

Place the almonds in a food processor and add the oil and process until smooth. Add the mushroom mixture, balsamic vinegar and salt and pepper and process until the mixture is very smooth. Transfer to a serving bowl and refrigerate, covered, for several hours.

To serve, spread a thin layer on thinly sliced rye or wheat toasts.

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Enjoy this guest post from my son Kip Dooley, who started this whole newsletter thing with me six years ago. Kip is embarking on some new writing of his own here on Substack. Check out his first post on The Odyssey (if you’re not already sick of hearing about it!) and subscribe for more.

The BLT is the Popeye of sandwiches, even more self-explanatory than filet-o-fish: just bacon, lettuce, tomato. I yam what I yam! What more is there to say? It’s a terrible subject for a food writer.

When my mom was my 8th grade English teacher (yes, that really happened), she had us do this incredibly annoying assignment where we had to write instructions for how to make a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. How lame, right? But the cool thing we did learn is that the moment you try to put something into language, you realize just how complex everything in life is. What do you mean “first, get the peanut butter”? Where do you keep said peanut butter? What even is peanut butter? We learned that how we wrote the instructions said more about who we were and what each of us valued than those words said about actual PB&J. I think we read Romeo & Juliet at some point, too.

First let me say that a BLT should never be eaten while wearing shoes. It’s just not that kind of sandwich. It’s a sandwich best eaten immediately after doing yardwork, or if you haven’t eaten anything all day. A BLT doesn’t need a side other than some really basic and terrible-for-you potato chips, i.e. Ruffles. Keep it simple.

It’s important that the sandwich have a lot of bacon, along with too many heirloom tomatoes, and the thick, crunchy end of fresh iceberg lettuce. A BLT should be, in my estimation, very messy (though my brother Tim disagrees, slicing his tomatoes thin and shredding the lettuce. Some people just have poor taste).

When it comes to how thoroughly to cook your bacon, I can really see both sides of the argument. When it’s soft, you get layers of fat smushing into the watery crunch of the lettuce. When it’s crispy, the dark salty flavors create quite the symphony with tomato’s fleshy umami. There’s no wrong move here, as long you can afford a few extra bucks on hand-cut bacon from a local butcher. And if all you have is cheap bacon from Wal-Mart, cook it with your shirt off while screaming, only God can judge me!

This next thing might get me cancelled, but it’s a hill I’m willing to die on: I don’t put mayo on my BLT.

It’s not about the taste, even though it’s obviously disgusting; it’s the moral indignity of the condiment itself. Do you know what’s actually in mayonnaise? Of course you don’t, because who would willingly eat something made of canola oil and egg yolks? Look, if you like mayo, that’s fine; I just don’t really trust people with such a crushing lack of aesthetic discernment. So yeah, I don’t put mayo on my BLT.

I can already hear the mayonnaise-mad hordes crying in agony, but what kind of sauce do you put on this sandwich then, if not our beloved slurry of uncooked chicken embryos and flavorless lipids? Uh, have you heard of butter?

If you want something creamy to balance out the bacon’s saltiness, you can make a simple vinaigrette with 2 parts buttermilk, 1 part olive oil, salt, and lemon juice. Behold, a creamy sandwich sauce you can enjoy without debasing yourself.

Lastly, the bread. To me, a BLT belongs on crusty sourdough that’s been toasted just enough to maintain structural integrity as you chomp into an unreasonably thick stack of bacon, lettuce, and tomato, but which still maintains some chewiness on the inside. I find a 45-second broil gets the job done, but broilers are fickle so don’t take my word for it. As with all important things in life, the BLT is something you can only learn by doing, as Mickey Mantle once said.

However you make your next BLT, I hope you’ll take a few extra minutes to write out the instructions on a greasy napkin or an index card. It’s good to remember how much we have to say, even when it feels like there’s nothing more worth saying.

Beth’s Disclaimer: Kip, I raise my voice among the “mayonnaise-mad hordes” to dispute your snub of BLT’s foundational ingredient. Mayo is an unsung hero, functionally mandatory though missing from the acronym. Substitute a watery vinaigrette, lacking the necessary viscosity, and “the center will not hold.” I beg you, dear son, abide by the classics. PS … Never Kraft, always Hellman’s.

Inviting friends over for drinks and dinner always seems like a good idea until I push “send” on the guest list. Then, as anxiety mounts (all the to-do’s) I remind myself, I’m not entertaining; I just want to be with friends. It’s not performative, it’s an authentic way to say, we like you. And if they say yes, it’s because they like us, too. So, I try to keep it unfussy with the emphasis on fun.

I’m just making dinner (something I do almost every night) except for more people. It’s NEVER perfect, that’s not the point. I don’t like lists (usually forget to bring them when I head to the co-op anyway) and I resist rules. So, here are my haphazard, go lightly tips based on my losers and winners after 40 years in the kitchen.

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Sweet corn! Plump and golden, summer corn is here! Grill it, roast it, whiz it into soup, toss in salads, whisk into batters for bread and muffins … Better yet, eat it fresh right off the cob!

Like a faded Polaroid, that first taste of corn sends me back to the dock of my New Jersey childhood, a butter soaked paper plate on my lap limp with cobs of corn. My feet dangle in the cool briny bay as evening’s golden light fades on the water. Corn, sweet as a first kiss, innocent as summer. The corn is ripe, life is good.

Give me organic, open-pollinated corn that relies on the wind and insects, not a research lab, to produce beautiful cobs. You can taste the difference. Commercial hybrid varieties are manipulated to be sugary-sweet while the flavor of open-pollinated varieties is intense, earthy, mildly sweet, nutty, and creamy, reflecting what the French dub “terroire”, the taste of place, shaped by the wind, sun, rain, and rich soil.

My favorite variety is “Who Gets Kissed,” first bred by Martin and Atina Diffley, Garden of Eagan, MN. Look for it and other organic varieties such as Golden Bantam and Country Gentleman from local growers (i.e.Featherstone Farms) in co-ops, and grocery stores, as well as CSA boxes. Because corn is one of the highest risk crops for GMO contamination, organic sweet corn is often hard to find.

The corn season is precious and abundant. Hurry up, it doesn’t last. Summer is easy, cooking should be, too. Try these simple recipes now!

P.S. - If you want to cook alongside me this season, Bare Bones cooking is still open.

Mexican Style Grilled Corn

Serves 4

Simply delicious, grilling corn is about as close as you’ll get to the State Fair experience. The husks protect the corn from drying out while they impart the kernels with a smoky flavor. While the butter salt finish is tried and true, topping the cobs with lime and chile spiked mayo adds heat and tang.

4 ears of corn, silks removed but husks retained

3 tablespoons quality mayonnaise, i.e. Duke, Hellman’s

1 to 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice, to taste

1/4 teaspoon chili powder, to taste

Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

1/4 cup grated Cotija cheese

Chopped cilantro for garnish

Lime wedges for garnish

Prepare a grill to medium high. Pull the husks back over the cobs and place on the grill. Cook, rolling back and forth, until the husks are fully charred, about 15 minutes. Remove and set on a platter.

In a small bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, lime juice, chili powder, and salt and pepper.

Remove the corn husks and slather the cobs with the seasoned mayonnaise. Sprinkle the cheese over the corn, garnish with cilantro and serve with the lime wedges.

Coconut Corn Soup

Serves 4

This one pot soup is delicious served warm, room temperature, or chilled. It makes a simple, satisfying dinner on a hot night.

5 ears corn

2 tablespoons olive or coconut oil

2 shallots, minced

1 clove garlic, smashed

1 1-inch piece ginger, minced

Generous pinch red pepper flakes

2 small red potatoes, cut into small cubes

2-1/2 cups vegetable stock

1 15-ounce can coconut milk

1 tablespoon lime juice, more more to taste

Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Basil leaves for garnish

Suggested accompaniments: fresh corn kernels, diced salami, corn nuggets

Cut the corn kernels from the cob and transfer to a bowl. With the back of a butter knife, scrape the cobs to collect the milky juices in the bowl.

In a large stockpot set over medium flame, heat the oil and add the shallots, garlic, ginger, and red pepper flakes; saute until fragrant, about 3 minutes. Add the corn kernels and juices to the pot and saute until the corn is soft and bright, about 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the potato and stir to coat. Pour in the vegetable stock and coconut milk. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until the potatoes are tender all the way through, about 10 minutes.

Use an immersion blender or transfer the soup to a blender and process into a rough puree. Return to the pot and season with lime juice, salt and pepper. Serve warm, at room temperature, or chilled. Garnish with the basil leaves and pass the accompaniments alongside.

Fresh Corn Salsa

Makes 2 cups

Make this when the freshest corn, just picked! Great with chips, on hot dogs, hamburgers, and grilled chicken.

2 ears corn, kernels removed

1 small red bell pepper, stemmed, seeded and chopped fine

1/2 red jalapeno chile, stemmed, seeded and minced

1 scallion, thinly sliced

1 clove garlic, minced

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice, or more to taste

2 tablespoons minced cilantro

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Toss all of the ingredients together in a medium bowl. Refrigerate until chilled. Store in a covered container in the refrigerator.

These dull purply fruits are beloved throughout Europe; the default “purple flavor.” In the US, it’s grape. Black currants are the blue in British Starburst, Skittles, and hard candies. The French distill them into creme de cassis. They are the defining taste of Austrian Darbon black currant preserve.

Black currants are nutrient power houses, packed with vitamins and antioxidants. In England, during World War Two, when oranges and other imported fruits were in short supply, a parmaceutical company created Ribena, concentrated black currant juice, sold as a vitamin C supplement. It remains a popular ingredient in soft drinks and cocktails today.

Less familiar to us Americans, black currants were banned from growing in the 1900’s because they carried a fungus that threatened the white pine industry. It’s just within this century they are finding their way onto our farms and into our kitchens. Like all perennials, currants — black, white, red, and pink — are good for the land, too. They return each year, their deep roots capture carbon, shelter pollinators, and prevent nutrient run-off into our rivers, streams, and lakes.

Fresh currants don’t ship or store well, so you won’t find them in most grocery stores. Look for currants at farmers markets and local farm stands. Go ahead and stock up, they freeze beautifully.

Red currants are tangy and bright while the white are milder and sweet. I’m most fond of the black currants. I harvest mine, plump with the recent August rain and take them into the kitchen to simmer with candied ginger and lemon into a pulpy jam. The flavor may be too forceful for some, but I like to spread it over gooey Lucky Lucy brie on crostini, and sip an elegant Kir Royale* on the patio as mid-summer’s heat fades into sunset.

Black currants make a gorgeous jam, preserve, shrub, or a savory glaze for chicken or pork. The leaves have a subtle black currant taste and when finely minced can be tossed into salads.

Black Currant Jam with Candied Ginger and Lemon

Excerpted from my book Savory Sweet: Simple Preserves from a Northern Kitchen

Makes about 3 half-pints

This is a serious jam, the true taste of black currents. To lighten the flavor, include white and red currents in the mix.

1-1/2 pounds black currants (about 5 to 6 cups)

3/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup finely chopped candied ginger

1/4 cup water

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

Put a small plate in the freezer. Combine all of the ingredients in a 10-inch saute pan. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat, then lower the heat so that small bubbles are barely bursting on the surface. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally until the jam thickens, about 15 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat. Dollop some jam on the frozen plate, run your finger through the center and if the jam holds its shape, its ready. If not, return to the heat for a few more minutes.

Wash the jars, lids, and bands in very hot soapy water, rinse well, and place them upside down on a clean towel to drain.

Spoon the jam into the jars, leaving a half inch of headroom to allow for expansion during freezing. Wipe the rims with a clean wet cloth or paper towel, add the lids and bands, and finger tighten the bands.

Cool completely and tighten the bands before storing the jars in the refrigerator or freezer.

• Kir Royal: 1/2 ounce creme de cassis plus 4 to 6 ounces of chilled dry Champagne or Brut. Pour the creme de cassis into the bottom of a chilled champagne flute then top with the sparkling wine. Garnish with a fresh berry or twist of lemon peel.

P.S. - If you want to cook alongside me this season, Bare Bones cooking is still open.

Gary’s memoir, Water in the Desert: A Pilgrimage (Milkweed Editions) is packed with brilliant moments and quiet discovery. This celebrated ethnobotanist and biocultural conservationist has devoted his life to advancing ecological restoration, pollinator recovery, and Indigenous food sovereignty. His work illuminates our deep relationships with each other and the natural world. Here faith is twinned to ecology in an intimate, memorable story.

Gary is also a wonderful cook. Late 2024, we co-authored Chile, Clove, and Cardamom: A Gastronomic Journey into the Fragrances and Flavors of Desert Cuisines. Weaving together his memories, research, and recipes, the book explores the bold flavors of Gary’s Lebanese heritage and of the world’s sun-kissed regions.

Terry Tempest Williams’ newest book, The Glorians: Visitations from the Holy Ordinary, explores the strange, fierce moments of enlightenment available to us all through dreams and close observation of nature - ants at work, herons at wing. Each short chapter is a meditation on that which is sacred and right in front of our noses.

Together on stage, these dear two friends and eco-visionaries shared their wisdom and wit with stories of risk, determination, and love. Please do read them both, together. (Don’t miss Gary’s story of hummingbird kisses.)

What to serve a genius for dinner? I cooked up one of Gary’s favorite dishes from our book: a big mezze platter (assorted spreads, olives, breads etc.) lamb sausage, chicken tagine, beans, za’atar roast veggies, and a cooling yogurt soup.

Refreshing and not too sweet, it was the perfect starter. And, it made a great opener for our Soccer Watch Party the night USMST made it to the Knock Out Round.

Stay tuned!

P.S. - If you want to cook alongside me this season, Bare Bones cooking is still open.

World Class Yogurt Apricot Soup

(from Chile, Clove & Cardamom)

Serves 4

Tangy, sweet and velvety, this is a soup to serve through summer. Just be sure you use a good olive oil and nice honey. The fruit is interchangeable; feel free to swap out the apricots for strawberries, cherries, raspberries or melons. Remember that a good soup maker is also a good taster. Have fun with the flavors!

3 cups dried apricots soaked in enough warm water to cover, plus more for garnish

2 tablespoons honey

2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 cup plain whole milk yogurt or more as needed

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Chopped cashews for garnish

Basil leaves for garnish

Put the apricots, honey, vinegar, oil, and cumin into a medium bowl and let sit for at least 30 minutes or overnight.

Transfer this to a blender and pulse until smooth.Season with salt and pepper to taste. Transfer to a bowl, cover and refrigerate until cold. Serve garnished with the cashews and basil.

If summer is a play, June is the opening act. The days never end. Not sure if that’s a good thing. I want to wake early, gobble up all every bright minute, and just go and go and go, and then flop into bed even though it’s still light out. There’s just so much to do — sail, garden, bike, plunge lake, hike, cocktails on the deck, Shakespeare in the Park. Time bounces like sun on waves, gone in a flash. If summer is a feeling, it’s joy and excitement, the magic of fireflies, the chorus of frogs.

But cooking? It’s just too damn hot and I’m too damn busy! Yet … everyone is hungry, including me. Best way to beat the heat? Light a fire and grill. A contradiction? Nope … it’s good reason to crack a cold beer, stand back … let the flames die down… and watch the sky deepen to indigo, breathe in a scent of cut grass and smoke. Grilling is easy, no mess, no fuss. Who doesn’t love a good burger? Here are a few tips to get it right:

Good meat: Whether you’re grilling beef, turkey or lamb, make it grass-fed with enough fat to keep it moist and flavorful. (About 80% to 85% lean meat to 20% to 15% fat.)

Keep it cold: Be sure to keep the meat in the refrigerator until ready to cook. You want the fat to be solid when it hits the heat.

Use a light touch: Be gentle when shaping the patties. After they’re formed, sprinkle both sides with a little coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper to create a firm crust.

Make a dimple in the middle. Make a shallow depression in the center of the patty with your thumb. The burger will shrink as it cooks, the center will puff up, leaving you with a flat, even burger.

Sear the patties directly over the hot heat for about 3 minutes to make a firm crust. Flip once and cook the other side. Do not press down! Then move the patties to the outer edges where it’s less hot.

Cook the burgers to medium then remove; they’ll continue to cook once off the grill, so wait at least 1 to 2 minutes before serving.

Best buns: Let the type of meat inform the bun. Don’t let the bun overwhelm the burger. For a hamburger, brioche or soft pretzel buns will absorb the juices, turkey burgers with sloppy toppings work well with firmer buns or English muffins, lamb burgers like pita pockets.

Condiments can be contentious: serve a little something for everyone: pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, ketchup, mustard, mayo, onions, pickles, salsa, tzatziki, cucumbers, mayo … whatever. Just let others decide.

P.S. - If you want to cook alongside me this season, Bare Bones cooking is still open.

It’s summer, suddenly! The lettuces, sweet peas, asparagus, are racing in next come tomatoes, beans, zucchini, and corn. It’s what we’ve longed for, sunny days and indigo nights. (Who longs for winter?). Our calendars are packed — graduations, weddings, baby showers, anniversaries, pool parties, picnics — our time is short. What to make for dinner? Salad. (Leave grilling to the patient perfectionists).

The proper attitude toward making a salad is devil-may-care. You do not have to be careful; you do not have to stand in the kitchen sweating for hours, cooking then cutting ingredients just so. If all you have in the fridge is leftover pasta, a couple of scallions, last night’s rotisserie chicken, and a handful of almonds, just whisk good oil with a shot of lemon, a dash of mustard, and voila, chicken-pasta salad is ready for the porch. Quick, simple, just right when everyone is hungry. After a day in the sun and a cold drink, aren’t we’re all starved?

There are no hard fast rules or essential tools for making a salad. But please keep these guidelines in mind:

• To make a vinaigrette: whisk together 1/3 parts vinegar, 2/3 parts oil, a dash of mustard (I like rough or whole grain), a little honey or maple syrup. A handful of chopped fresh herbs doesn’t hurt. Make it creamy with a dollop of whole milk yogurt, sour cream, or cream. Please don’t overdress! (A little goes a long way.)

• Rough chop the ingredients — veggies, meats, cheeses — the same size so everything fits on that fork at once. Each bite then reflects what’s in the bowl.

• Add crunch — toasted bread crumbs, nuts, cucumbers — to give texture and flavor.

• It’s lettuce season, so check out all the different varieties for color, texture and flavor: Peppery arugula, crisp romaine, tender butter, tangy sorrel.

  

  Join me in the Bare Bones cooking course, you can find the link here. Starts at $95, with options to add a signed cookbook and bonus recipes, and/or a live session together.

  Sweet Pea, Radish, and Bean Salad

  Serves 4

  This is the kind of salad that moves through the summer. Vary the veggies as the sun arcs across the sky — tender zucchini, crisp green beans, bell peppers, tomatoes. Use a good olive oil and lemon or a vinegar you love with whatever herbs you have on hand. Serve with a plate of cured meats, cheese, and crostini. Pour a glass of wine .. dinner done!

• ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

• 3 tablespoons lemon juice, or more to taste

• ½ tsp. coarse Dijon mustard

• Coarse salt, to taste

• Freshly ground black pepper

• ¼ cup diced radishes

• 1/2 cup diced fennel or celery

• 1/2 cup snap peas, plus a few split peas for garnish

• ¼ cup diced pitted green olives

• ¼ cup chopped fresh basil

• 2 cups cooked or canned cannellini beans, white beans or black-eyed peas, drained

In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, lemon juice, mustard and a pinch of salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

In a large bowl, toss together the radishes, fennel, peas, olives, basil and beans. Toss in just enough vinaigrette to lightly coat the ingredients. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Serve at room temperature or chilled.

Are you hungry … for hope … for conversation … for soup? Welcome to Soup for You Cafe in Minneapolis. Come in, find a seat at the table where Chef Judah, founder and soup creator, has a beautiful meal just for you. On the menu a choice of two vegetarian soups, all made of fresh ingredients, served with on real dishes…the conversation is real, too. Your table mates, from all walks of life, are drawn to community and the chance to step out of our hurly burly, fast world.

Chef Judah, is warm, friendly and open; Soup for You is his vision, born of his life’s tough experiences. The child of an Arab/Jewish Holocaust survivor he was orphaned very young and came to Minnesota as an immigrant/refugee fleeing persecution. Years later, homeless and hungry, he lived beneath the Franklin Ave Bridge. Then after stints in various restaurant kitchens, he landed at St. Martin’s and began creating nutritious soups meant to fight “food fatigue”. For the next 15 years, he honed his soup-making skills offering soup lunches to the neighboring community His soups nourished friendships and inspired a band of musicians, the “Well Fed.”

No stranger to turmoil, Chef Judah’s cafe dealt with COVID by distributing lunches at the cafe’s front door. When grocery stores were shuttered following George Floyd’s murder, he distributed groceries, hygiene supplies, as well as fresh, delicious lunches.

Beginning in 2022, Soup For You became its own entity as nonprofit (501©(3) and opened in Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, Mpls. Everyone is welcome for lunch (no reservations required), pay what you can. “We’re not here to fix the world,” Chef told me. “We’re just here to do this, to be a little point of light in the world.” Come over, Monday through Friday, 12 to 1:00 there’s a seat, a bowl of soup, and conversation waiting for you.

Join me in the Bare Bones cooking course, you can find the link here. Starts at $95, with options to add a signed cookbook and bonus recipes, and/or a live session together.

Springtime Veggie Soup

Serves 4 to 6

I always add small pasta to simple veggie soups because the starch contributes body to the stock. Build the soup by starting with heartier vegetables (carrots, cauliflower etc.). Stir in the cooked or canned beans last.

1 tablespoon olive oil

1/2 cup chopped onions

1 clove garlic, crushed

1 tablespoon fresh thyme

6 cups chicken or vegetable stock

1 bay leaf

1/2 cup small pasta (elbow, stars, orzo)

1 large carrot, diced

1/2 cup diced zucchini

1/2 cup diced green beans

1 small red bell pepper, seeded and diced

2 large kale leaves, diced

1/2 cup cooked garbanzo or white beans, drained

Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Pinch red ppper flakes, to taste

1/4 cup shredded Parmesan cheese

Film a large soup pot with the oil, set over medium heat and add the onion, garlic and thyme. Sauté, stirring until the vegetables are soft, about 3 minutes. Stir in the stock and bay leaf and bring to a boil.

Add the pasta, reduce the heat to a slow boil and stir; cook until the pasta is just beginning to become tender, about 5 to 8 minutes. Stir in the carrot and cook until it just begins to turn tender, then add the zucchini, green beans, pepper and kale and cook until the vegetables are tender-crisp, about 6 to 8 minutes. Stir in beans. Season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste.

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Cooking at home has never made less sense these days given the take out options, the premade meals in our markets, the delivery boxes of prepped, packed ingredients you toss together. Yet, after sitting in front of a screen all day, don’t you want to do stuff with your hands? Stuff that makes others happy?

I’m a people pleaser and a sensualist. In the kitchen, I get to taste and taste again, while sipping a glass of wine, chopping, sizzling, and creating dishes for others. I often irritate my husband by asking … “how is it?” after he’s taken a few bites then feel defeated if he says, “it’s fine.”

I am bit distractible, too lazy for huge projects, keen on instant gratification, seeking friendship, approval. When I need to get out of my own head, cooking is a good place to start.

It’s in this vein that I’ve put together a little offering called the Bare Bones cooking class. Come into my kitchen for a series of lighthearted, practical cooking lessons based on fundamental techniques. Through five classes, each with a package of recipes, tips, and insights, students will sharpen their skills and ignite their creativity.

Since the time of our first Bare Bones Kitchen during COVID (see my previous article breaking down the history of the first Bare Bones rendition), we’ve buffed up our materials, added new information, more recipes, and have woven in the wisdom of chefs I’ve worked with through the past 30 years — Lucia Watson (Lucia’s Restaurant), Sean Sherman (Owamni), Lynne Rossetto Kasper (Splendid Table), Loretta Oden (Corn Dance Cafe), and Kate and Gustavo Romero (Oro by NIXTA). Each of them taught me something I couldn’t have learned from a cookbook - about generosity, about place, about cooking as a form of listening.

When we master the fundamentals we gain confidence in our ability to cook without a recipe using seasonal ingredients and pantry staples.

Join me in the Bare Bones cooking course, you can find the link here. Starts at $95, with options to add a signed cookbook and bonus recipes, and/or a live session together.

RECIPE - A Taste of Bare Bones Kitchen

Spring Green Pea Soup

Serves 4 to 6

This minty pea soup is as spirit lifting as spring itself. Easy and quick, made with just few ingredients it’s simple gratification in a bowl. Serve it warm, room temperature, or chilled. In a pinch, frozen peas will work equally well. It can be made a day ahead, stored in the refrigerator in a covered container. Taste and season before serving.

2 tablespoons unsalted butter or olive oil

1 medium leek, white part, chopped

1 pound fresh or frozen pod peas

¼ pound sugar snap or snow peas, chopped

1 sprig fresh mint

¼ cup chopped fresh basil

4 cups chicken stock, or more as needed

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste,

Pinch sugar, to taste

¼ cup whole milk Greek style yogurt

1 to 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, to taste

2 to 3 tablespoons chickpea snacks for garnish, optional

In a large soup pot set over low heat, melt the butter and saute the leek until tender, about 2 minutes. Add the pod peas, sugar snap peas, the mint, and the basil. Stir in the chicken stock. Bring to a boil and cook until the peas are just tender, 2 to 4 minutes. Working in batches, transfer the soup into a blender and puree until it has reached the desired consistency. Return to the pot and season to taste with the salt, pepper, and sugar. Whisk in the yogurt and lemon juice. Serve warm, at room temperature, or chilled garnished with the chickpeas, if desired.

What he DID have was a half a box of spaghetti, a half a stick of butter, two garlic cloves, half a bottle of Chardonnay, and a 2-inch rind of Parmesan cheese. Solution? He boiled the pasta, saved a little cooking water, sizzled the butter until it turned nutty brown, stirred in the garlic and whisked in the pasta water with a little wine. Then he dumped the drained pasta into the skillet, tangled in Parmesan cheese. No great meal, but worthy of the rest of the wine we sipped.

That quick class in “cucina povera,” the humble, no-waste, and flavorful style of Italian cooking, launched our series of on-line classes, Bare Bones Cooking. Designed for home cooks, each class focused on a classic technique. The idea was to free us all from recipes to become more creative, confident, and spontaneous cooks.

Our community gathered from DC and New Jersey to Minnesota and Iowa. Kip and I presented the information, basic guidelines and sample recipes, and participants shared ideas, experiments, successes, and flops .. all to the background of dogs barking, smoke alarms beeping, and our screens getting messy. It was exciting and fun and we learned how to communicate directly and simply over what was then, a new medium.

That little class planted a seed I haven’t stopped tending. Cooking became an even more important means of connecting, of framing our days when life felt out of control.

And, now cooking is the best way to welcome in the changes in my life. Let’s start with spring, the season of light and, dare I say hope, of bountiful greens and good things to come. Let’s head to the kitchen and cook!

Next week I’ll be sharing something new I’ve been working on. Stay tuned.

Daisy, my very sweet rescue mutt, goes nuts this time of year. She just can’t resist all those scents: the damp leaves, new grass, budding lilacs, life emerging anew. Me? I’m following my nose to the oniony whiff of ramps. These wild leeks, members of the lily family, announce themselves soon as they’er under foot. Their green, spiky leaves poke up around oaks and spread in a verdant carpet across the forest floor. Appearing mid-April through mid-June, this highly seasonal, complex delicacy tastes like a cross of sweet onion, basil, and scallions.

Ramps refuse to be domesticated and they can’t be transplanted. They are nature’s spontaneous gift, precious and vulnerable to over-harvesting. The most responsible way to pick ramps is to just cut the leaves at the base so the bulbs remain under ground. Or, if you want the whole plant, be sure to leave plenty alone so they spread and return the following year.

If you’d rather avoid trudging over dead trees and muck, head to the farmers markets and co-ops, and find local ramps sold in bundles as whole plants by farmers whose property borders the woods. The purply-white bulbs make a pretty addition to sautes, soups, salads, stews. The spicy leaves, add floral garlicky note to amplify savory dishes. Whirr them into pesto or butter; toss them into stir-fries and scrambled eggs. Fresh chopped leaves remind me of strong chives so go ahead sprinkle them over chicken, fish, meat as garnish. Like spring, ramps are fleeting. Enjoy the their bright green taste now!

RAMP PESTO

Makes 1 quart

Ramps, the first taste of spring, are delicate and fleeting. If you find them, in the woods or at the farmers, market, enjoy them right away! This pesto will keep about a week in a covered container in the refrigerator or can be frozen. Toss it with pasta, whisk it into your favorite vinaigrette, stir it into rice, and spread it over pizza crust.

Blanching the leaves first retains their vibrant color. This pesto does not include cheese, it’s better to add that right before serving.

1 pound ramps

1/2 cup unsalted cashews or almonds

Zest from 1 small lemon

2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

1 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Salt to taste

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Trim the root ends of the ramps. Separate out the white and green parts then roughly chop the white parts.

Put the cashews into a food processor and pulse until finely chopped.

Put the ramp greens int th boiling water and blanch until wilted, about 15 seconds. Drain and run under cold water. Remove roll into a clean dish towel to squeeze out any excess water. Chop coarsely and add to the food processor with the white bulbs and pulse together, scraing down the sides until you have a rough paste. Add the lemon zest and juice and pouls until incorporated. With the food process running, add the oil in a slow stead stream to create a thick pesto. Season to taste with salt. Transfer to a covered container and store in the refrigerator for up to a week or freeze.

As a food writer, cookbook author, and mom, I’ve come to the humbling conclusion that good food relies on good soil. It takes rich, fertile soil to grow the best-tasting, most nutritious food. What’s more, good soil is a key to addressing our dual crisis of climate change and food insecurity.

The new book, LIVING ROOTS: The Promise of Perennial Foods, is an introduction to the regenerative food movement focused on soil health. The collection of essays, poems, and art shares stories of buffalo prairies, urban orchards, and perennial grains, converting our current monoculture of corn, wheat, rice, and soybeans, to the diverse system of crops that sequester carbon, prevent erosion, and withstand extreme weather (drought and floods). These delicious foods provide a fair income for farmers and support thriving rural communities.

With contributions from scientists, farmers, chefs, poets, and indigenous leaders, this book is a behind the scenes tour of the regenerative farming movement that is putting robust plants at the center of our farms and on our plates

Here, you’ll find my essay about Kernza, a perennial cousin of wheat. Its flour adds a nutty, caramel flavor to baked goods, the whole grain makes wonderful cereal; it’s being brewed into beer and distilled into vodka and whiskey. Rea

d stories of chickens raised with hazelnut bushes; lessons of Palestinian olive trees ; the spiritual roots of Black agrarianism, and poems of place and purpose. If you’re hungry for hope, this collection is a good place to start.

KERNZA SHORTBREAD BARS

Kernza Shortbread Bars

Makes 18 bars

The nutty caramel notes of Kernza shine in these simple shortbread bars. If you use 100% Kernza flour, expect a firmer, denser cookie. You’ll find Kernza flour in specialty markets and on-line (see below for resources).

1 cup butter, room temperature

Pinch salt

2/3 cup maple sugar or light brown sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 cups Kernza flour* (or mix of flours)

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Line a an 8 or 9-inch baking pan with parchment paper.

Put the butter, sugar, and vanilla into a large bowl and stir to combine. Work in the flour until the mixture resembles small peas and then gather the dough together with your hands.

Pat the dough into the baking pan, prick the dough with a fork, then score the dough into about 18 squares. Bake until golden brown and the edges begin to pull away from the sides, about 35 to 45 minutes (depending on the pan size). Transfer to a wire rack and cut into the scored squares. Allow the bars to cool slightly before removing from the pan.

*Find Kernza flour in specialty grocery stores and from Perennial Pantry

https://perennial-pantry.com/

If you go into the woods today, you’re sure to smell something smokey and sweet. Maple sugaring is in full swing for the next several weeks. Sugarers (yes that’s a noun) will be collecting sap from maples, and if they’re using old fashioned methods, will pour it from their buckets into a big caldron set over a wood fires. No batch will taste the same; one tasting of our fierce winter, the crusty snow, the brightening light, damp forest, and the legacy of those who “sugared” before us.

The Ojibwe refer to the maple tree as Aninaatig and their traditional methods of tapping trees rely on paying close attention to the forest and weather. Many Native communities celebrate the Iskigamizge Giizis (Maple Sugar Moon), usually the first full moon of April when the eagles return. It is then that the sap begins to flow.

Alternating freeze and thaw temperatures are necessary to create the pressure which causes the sap to flow when the tree is tapped. Sap runs best when temperatures drop below freezing at night and rise into the 40s during the day. Once the temperatures stay above freezing and the leaf buds appear, the maple season is over… and we can start looking for ramps and morels.

The process of simmering sap into syrup and then down into sugar hasn’t changed much through time. The sugar is simply what remains after all the liquid from the syrup has evaporated. Maple syrup and sugar have complex flavors of wood and smoke and, unlike processed sugar or corn syrup, they are full of antioxidants, vitamins, and minerals. They also have lower scores on the glycemic index and are easier to digest.

In the U.S. and Canada, all commercial syrups are considered grade A, it’s the color of the syrup that defines its character. The lightest golden syrup has the most delicate taste; the darker the syrup the bolder it will be. A very dark syrup, thick and robust, makes a delicious alternative to molasses.

Next Monday, March 17 is St. Patrick’s Day. The celebration holds opposing forces like so much in our lives. Let’s consider the myths and lies in the media about immigration and who belongs in light of this particular holiday.

In Ireland, until the 1920’s, St. Patrick’s Day was a high holy day in the midst of Lent, a day when families went to church and shared a simple meal. In the U.S., St. Patrick’s Day has always been a uniquely American celebration. The first St. Pat’s parade was held in New York City, 1792, organized by Irish soldiers in the British Army to protest British oppression back home. In that spirit of defiance and unity, our American parades have evolved into massive celebrations honoring communities of Italian-Americans, Jewish-Americans, Mexican-Americans, Chinese-Americans, Indian-Americans and the diverse mix of ethnicities along with labor, immigrant, LGBTQ+ and value-based organizations.

Back in Ireland, it wasn’t until the Irish Tourism Board realized St. Patrick’s allure during the “low travel season.” Dublin’s St. Patrick’s Day Festival now attracts over 100,000 foreign spectators to its weekend of revelry. (Dublin was first city to allow pubs to open on the saint’s holiday.)

About that corned beef. It’s actually the same preserved meat as pastrami. American Irish learned to cure beef with salt and spices from their Jewish neighbors. You won’t find corned beef in Ireland. It’s a day for salmon or lamb, and of course, potatoes and cabbage.

On March 17, we’re all Irish, we’re all immigrants, we’re all American. Let’s find a parade and march in solidarity; consider ways we can heal ourselves and our communities. Cooking and sharing a wonderful dinner is a good place to start.

Irish Potato Cakes (aka Bubble & Squeak)

Serves 6

Mashed potatoes, the essential dish of both Ireland and the US, sublime with good butter, and even better with chopped scallions, parsley, coarse salt, and freshly ground pepper pounded in. Shape leftover mashers into patties and you have what the Irish call “bubble and squeak” named for the sound the cakes make when hitting the hot pan. Try frying them in bacon fat or duck fat (the best) for a side dish or simple meal.

This is really a two-for-one dish. Enjoy the mashers on St. Pat’s Day with salmon and a side of cabbage and make the cakes the next. You’ll want to use Yukon Gold potatoes for their buttery yellow color. Serve with your favorite bubbly. Slainte! (Irish for Cheers!)

2 cups mashed potatoes

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

1/4 cup chopped scallions (mostly white parts)

Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

1/4 cup all-purpose flour

2 to 3 tablespoons butter, bacon grease, or duck fat

In a medium bowl, stir together the mashed potatoes, parsley, scallions and satl and pepper, to taste.

Put the flour into a shallow bowl. Scoop up two heaping tablespoons of the mashed potatoes and shape into loose patties. Set the patties, one by one, in the flour and toss to generously coat.

Melt the butter over medium heat. Sizzle the potato cakes until browned on one side, abou 3 to 5 minutes then carefully flip and cook on the other side until browned and heated through, another 3 to 5 minutes.

If not serving immediately, place the cooked cakes on a parchment lined baking shee and hold in a 300 degree oven until ready to serve.

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Let’s agree, our city is different. We old white ladies (aka me) are becoming radicalized, doing things we never imagined we would ever have to do. We are texting encrypted messages, attending vigils, stocking pantries, marching, singing, shouting, and we are still here. “We are gentle angry people and we’re singing, singing for our lives.”* We invite ICE to join us, to change their minds, to turn their destructive behavior towards good. Organized by “Singing Resistance,” these weekly events draw nearly 2,000 people who gather at the hotels housing ICE agents. We are a collective force that’s hard to ignore and impossible to call domestic terrorism.

There’s a whole lot of goodness happening here with humor and creativity. Take the celebration packages that, along with diapers, laundry soap, and other household necessities, are being dropped off at food pantries. Isn’t joy a pantry staple?

These kits are surprise gifts of whimsy – a birthday kit with cake and icing mix, candles, DIY cards, and cake pan; a breakfast kit with muffin and pancake mixes and dried fruit. Valentine’s Day kits arrived in time for a day of sweetness.

Don’t we all need a kit of kindness? How about making one for you, your friends, and a pantry? Goodness is hand to hand combat.

*The song, “We are gentle angry people,” was created by Holly Near in response to the killing of Harvey Milk, and has become a protest anthem.

Classic Half-Pound Pound Cake

Makes one 9 x 3-inch loaf

This all-round cake is a sure-fire pleaser, rich, dense and golden. It stays fresh for a couple of days and is delicious toasted. Old fashioned and not too sweet, it is perfect with coffee at breakfast, for a snack, and as a desert, too. Make it special by topping with a handful of raspberries, frozen or fresh .. or try dried apricots or craisins as well.

This makes a wonderful treat to share with other volunteers, deliver to shut-ins, neighbors and friends.

To create a kit: combine the dry ingredients and package in a zip-lock plastic bag. Included in the package, 4 fresh eggs and 2 sticks of butter, a lemon and disposable loaf pan.

2 cups all-purpose flour

¾ teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

1 cup sugar

1 cup (2 sticks butter) softened

4 eggs

Grated rind of 1 lemon

2 teaspoons vanilla

Preheat the oven to to 325 degrees. Generously grease a loaf pan.

In a small bowl, sift together the dry ingredients. In a large bowl beat the sugar and the butter together until light and fluffy. Then beat in the eggs, lemon rind and vanilla. Fold in the dry ingredients quickly and gently. The batter will be thick.

Transfer the batter into the prepared pan and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes up clean, about 1 hour. Cool in the pan for 10 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely.

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Roast chicken, homey and elegant, dependable and delicious, as beloved as it is simple, is hard to get wrong. Toss in a few cloves of garlic, onions or leeks, fresh or dried herbs, and good potatoes. You’ll reap the awards of a one skillet dinner that’s a snap to clean up.

If you are weary of the drab cold and ICE; have been out stocking pantries, attending vigils, marching, texting, and are, like me, outraged and exhausted, know that a little self care is an act of resistance, too. Those savory scents calm the nerves and stir our appetites. (Go ahead, take a bath while the bird cooks all by itself.)

Of course, the first step to success is in using the right kind of chicken* – free-range, organic if possible. These birds run around in the sunshine and scratch in the barnyard. Their breasts are a bit smaller and their thighs nicely plumped. OK, they do cost more because they taste better. Time allowing, leave the chicken in the refrigerator overnight, uncovered, before roasting. This helps to dry the exterior moisture so the skin crisps up and the chicken emerges burnished and browned.

I swear by a heavy cast-iron skillet. Start by preheating it in a hot oven before placing the chicken, breast side up in the skillet. This gives the dark meat a quick start so that both the white and the dark meat are done at the same time.

Allow the chicken to come to room temperature before roasting; rub it with plenty of oil or soft butter and sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. A pinch of paprika adds notes of smoke and that lovely color. Tuck a few herbs (fresh thyme and parsley) in the cavity and set the chicken on top of thickly sliced potatoes and onions, a few cloves of garlic, and you’re done.

No cast iron skillet? You can use a pan, but this recipe is a great reason to add a cast iron skillet to your kitchen.

Cast-Iron Skillet Roast Chicken

Serves 4 to 6

If you have time, start the day ahead. Unwrap the chicken, sprinkle with salt and freshly ground black pepper, and set on a large plate, uncovered, in the refrigerator overnight. Bring to room temperature the next day before cooking.

NOTE: Save the scraps of veggies, meat, and bones for a big pot of soup next day. You may have enough meat to toss with vinaigrette for a salad or to fold into a tortilla with your favorite salsa and cheese. A bird in the skillet = 2 meals for 2.

3-1/2 to 4-pound whole chicken

2 to 3 tablespoons softened butter

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Generous pinch paprika

8 sprigs parsley

4 sprigs thyme

1 onion, sliced

1-1/2 pounds small potatoes, halved or quartered

1 large onion, sliced

3 cloves garlic, smashed

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees and place the skillet into the oven to preheat for about 15 minutes.

Rub the chicken with the butter, tucking a little of it under the breast skin. Sprinkle with the salt and pepper. Stuff the chicken cavity with the herbs.

Carefully remove the skillet from the oven and add the potatoes, onion, and garlic to the pan. Set the chicken on top of the vegetables. Return to the oven and roast for 15 minutes. Reduce the heat to 350 degrees and continue roasting until the juices run clear when the thigh is pricked with a sharp knife and an instant read thermometer reads 155 degrees, about another 30 to 40 minutes.

Remove the skillet from the oven. Tip the chicken so that the juices flow from the cavity into the pan. Transfer the chicken and vegetables to a platter and allow the chicken to rest about 5 minutes before carving.

· Great Chicken: The MTRY

https://mtryco.com/?srsltid=AfmBOorPYDq4GVw6eSvmrEc07f08rxpYbGRYo_CdvXaYkXGWsPb6xIBJ

· Tree Range Farms

https://treerangefarms.com/

· Sunshine Harvest Farm

https://www.sunshineharvestfarm.com/