Black Eyed Susan's Kitchen

COLLECTIONS OF THE SOUVENIR MIND

               I once met a woman who told me that she never met a dish that she didn't like. What a way to turn a phrase, but I knew exactly what she was talking about. Some people are born with a collectible mind-set. There isn't necessarily a reason behind the collections that they amass, except usually when it comes to souvenirs. Many households in the 1950's had a rack of spoons hanging in their kitchens. Spoons from each state in the union, from European countries, and even from such exotic places as Australia and New Zealand. Fast forward to the year 2013, and you will find many of the 1950's collectibles packed away in basements to be sold at estate, tag, or yard sales.

Clearly, there are still some people who want to preserve the past. For what reason? I have to imagine it is nostalgia or perhaps a more important need to catalogue our antiquities. So important is this need that we have The Smithsonian Institution in Washington D.C. that is the keeper of just about one of everything there is to be kept. 

               Collections and creativity seem to go hand in hand as well. Some collections are either very artistic or are displayed in an artistic fashion. I have without question a collectors mind...I have never met a piece of sea glass that I didn't like. I have collected over the years, vintage cookbooks, vintage textiles, early vintage hammered aluminum, heart shaped rocks, and teapots. I have also managed to hone down some of the collections as my tastes matured.

To this end, I have decided to send some of my vintage tablecloths on to other collectors. In my very humble opinion, one of the best routes for this is Etsy. A place to find collectible inspiration in a most artistic and useful way. There is no waiting to see what price will need to be paid for an item you might want, the price is set from the start. I love to surf through the hand made art, especially from sellers who use vintage textiles as their muse. 

Most of the tablecloths featured in this post can be found in my Etsy shop right now...and I will be adding more throughout the week. Sometimes you have to make room for something else in your life, and sometimes you just want to hold onto a little piece of the past. Especially if it brings you happiness. 

Stop by Etsy when you have a chance. You might not have another chance to see a Mary Quant textile from the 1960's Carnaby Street era!

WHEN MOTHER NATURE THROWS US CURVE BALLS...BLUE PUMPKINS

                 Last year, we found in our local farmers market, a most unusual grey-blue pumpkin. The young lad who sold it to us very proudly pronounced it to be a Curcubita Pepo, or I have come to learn, a Jarrahdale...which sounded out is Ghiradelli. According to my research, this particular variety hails from Australia. We enjoyed it as a table decoration for quite a while last fall. 

 

                  And then we put it into the compost pile, which happens to be directly behind our veggie garden. So, while we were not paying a great deal of attention to the garden this year, we would not have been surprised to see more volunteer squash...the last three years have been banner years for butternut squash to grow. Imagine our surprise when we saw a big ole very greenish blue-grey pumpkin growing right in the middle. On closer inspection, we noticed a second growing on the fence, and a third growing in a bush.

Noticing that the squash vine and flowers had made their way up and into the very tall holly trees, it was time for a serious Nancy Drew moment...there are pumpkins growing in the trees, easily 15 to 20 feet up there!! I vacillate between shock, amazment and flat out hilarity. What a wacky thing to be happening in the yard. 

Bruce cut 4 of the largest volunteer pumpkins, and we will wait for the others to grow a bit more. This will be the year that we try our first pumpkin pie from scratch. I just love it when mother nature throws us curve-balls in the shape of pumpkins!!

Linking to Little Red House for Mosaic Monday!

IN THE KITCHEN....FRIED CHICKEN SUNDAY SUPPER

             Should you find yourself seriously dieting, you might want to save this post to read some other time. It is not for the weak willed! I can attest to this disclaimer because I was once there and this man...

the Viking cooking at the Viking, this extraordinary chef, takes no prisoners. Just to clarify, I put in five miles of walking/running, weight lifting and a 40 minute yoga work out so that I could eat this meal sans  guilt.

             This is the meal that we had, a traditional Sunday supper for some perhaps, but for me, it was a food fest that I had in the back of my mind for weeks.

Comfort food of epic proportions. The idea originated in the July issue of Saveur magazine.  

You can find the recipe for Extra-Crispy Fried Chicken from the Rye KC restaurant in Leawood, Kansas, on page 74 of the magazine. The concept of double frying chicken, intrigued me. In my minds eye I saw the double frying method of making French Fries as being the best, so this seemed a concept worth investigating. 

               Now, in our kitchen, a recipe is considered a suggestion, a plan if you will that is always up for discussion and debate. In the end, we decided not to brine the chicken as the recipe "suggested" but to soak the chicken over night in buttermilk. We used the same coating, which gave the finished product a wonderful little cayenne bite. 

The recipe also suggested to thin the batter with water, a bit of beer was used for this purpose instead. 

                 Was it worth the vigorous work-out? Absolutely!! This was, hands down the very best fried chicken recipe we have ever used. Double frying left the chicken really crispy and the flavor was out of this world...so worth the work. 

With the chicken, I made a traditional mac and cheese, using half skim milk and half heavy cream because those were the ingredients that were at hand. The cheese mixture was cheddar, jack, parmesian, and buttermilk blue ( one of my newest finds and a bit of an obsession). To cut through some of the rich, heaviness, that I knew the mac and cheese and the chicken would leave on my palate, I sauteed broccoli rabe with garlic. It really was a perfect, slightly bitter counter point. It is our habit to drizzle a little honey over our fried chicken, a hold over from my childhood. On Long Island, where I grew up, there was a restaurant of historic renown. Ray-Nors Tavern served the best fried chicken and corn fritters, and to my unsophisticated tastes, back in the day, that extra little drizzle of honey is just one of the throw back culinary ideas that stuck.                 Oh, and just to emphasize how worth it this meal was, I did indeed see two extra pounds on the scale this morning, and I smiled anyway...it was that good!! 

                  

A LETTER TO MY MOTHER ON HER 80TH BIRTHDAY

Dear Mom, 

                Chopping a mountain of broccoli in the kitchen this afternoon, I slipped into, what I like to consider, a zen attitude. You see, it's a rainy day and there are groceries languishing in the fridge. In a gastronomic fit of inspiration I started dicing up onion, garlic, carrot, one potato and the broccoli to prepare soup...broccoli cheddar soup. And, while the soup is simmering, there are chicken cutlets and potatoes baking in the oven.

 

                   You might be wondering where I am going with this Mom, well, I'll tell you. This very zen space that I find myself in, alone in my kitchen has me channeling back to the faux white brick wallpapered kitchen of my youth. Remember? The kitchen with the knottey pine cabinets, bright orange breakfast nook and the oven door that didn't always want to stay closed? What I see in my minds eye is you, Mom, handing me a sleeve of Ritz crackers to crush while you are chopping and dicing away at mushrooms and onions, and in my mind I can actually smell the saute pan full of aromatics. Without telling us that these were important life lessons, we learned not only to eat our veggies and protein, but to savor the method of how the meal came to be. You taught me to be fearless in the kitchen.

                   At a cousin's wedding, you once popped a cracker smeared with caviar into my mouth and told me that I would love it and you were right...I did. You taught me to be fearless when it came to foods and flavors...how delicious a soft shell crab could be and how much more delicious lobster tasted when eaten at Trader Vic's in New York. You were a "foodie" before the term existed and I thank you for passing that passion on to me. 

                 You also taught me how to make a party out of extreme adversity. That there are ways of getting through the bad times...and there were plenty of bad times. It is the good times that I want to remember though...the sharing of a small wheel of camembert and a pear while just hanging out together...the TV trays set up in front of The Wizard of Oz every year...the way you confiscated our lolly pops on Halloween so you could make a tree out of them for the pediatrics ward at the hospital.

                 It is the way you reacted to life in general that gave us the lessons that we take with us today. So, on your 80th birthday I want to thank you for a life well lived because you taught me to find peace and happiness in my own way and to appreciate the tastier parts of time we have been given. I find myself savoring the days more and more as I grow older and that is because of you. Happy Birthday Mom!!

With all my love, Susan

P.S.  The soup is delicious and I am bringing a containerful down to you tomorrow.