Fourth of July

bacon-shrimp-grill.jpg I started teaching my sons how to cook when they were barely tall enough to reach the kitchen counter. The first thing anyone needs to learn is good knife skills. I still remember his mom looking in horror when she walked into the kitchen to find me showing 5 year old Frank how to use a 10" chef's knife to chop Italian parsley. No blood was spilled that day, but the quality of my parenting was a topic of discussion for many months afterwards.

When Frank went away to UC, Santa Cruz, I put together a cookbook with recipes I thought would be quick, easy, and economical. Periodically I'd get calls from him for cooking tips, like the time he was in Costco and he wanted to know what he could do with frozen red snapper, since it was on sale for $1.35/lb.

What's really fun is when the student becomes the teacher.

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smores-recipe-campfireCAMPFIRE MARTINI

3 parts Three Olives S'mores Vodka
Crushed graham crackers
Chocolate syrup
Marshmallows

Dip the rim of martini glass in chocolate syrup and coat with crushed graham crackers.

Pour Three Olives S'mores into martini shaker filled with ice.

Shake and strain into martini glass.

Garnish with a skewer of three toasted marshmallows!

 

roman candleROMAN CANDLE

3 oz. Three Olives Berry Vodka
1/2 oz. Cranberry Juice
Dash of Grenadine
1⁄2 oz. Blue Curacao

Shake vodka, cranberry juice and grenadine in a shaker with ice.

Strain into a chilled martini glass.

Pour blue curacao gently down the side of the glass so it settles on the bottom.

Garnish with a lemon twist.

 

- Recipes courtesy of Three Olives Vodka and Maestro Dobel Tequila

From the Los Angeles Times

grapeleaves.jpgIn the beautiful economy of the forest – or the urban backyard garden – leaves are nature's brilliant cookware. Banana leaves can be cut down to make plates or unfurled into wrappers perfect for steaming fish on a low-slung grill. Fig trees and grapevines yield leaves the exact size for enclosing, then grilling, a cube of feta, a recumbent sardine or a mint-studded lamb meatball.

Before the invention of tinfoil or grilling baskets, pragmatic cooks picked their kitchen supplies from branches and found what they needed in the trees.

Going green was logical – OK, obvious – long before it became chic.

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firecrackercupcakesYep, the kids have elevated me to the likes of Albert Einstein. Up until yesterday they thought of me as dull, boring, blah. I couldn't be more of a plain Jane to them.

But when I made these FIRECRACKER CUPCAKES and sprinkled POP ROCKS all over them you would have thought I just invited the circus over to perform. I instantaneously became the coolest, hippest and craziest Mom evah. The hooligans couldn't have been more pleased.

What makes me mad is I didn't think of it first. It's so simple. I saw it in the newspaper as a fun way to celebrate the upcoming 4th of July holiday. Brilliant I thought. A firework show in their mouths.

As the kids ate away, their mouths were exploding with candy and their noses and cheeks were covered in whipped cream. Their day could not have been better.

The trick is to pour the POP ROCKS on just before serving or better yet, give each person their own pack. If you are stingy with the POP ROCKS the full effect of this dessert will not be realized. Be generous!

Adults would like them too. It was fun eating the cupcake and having tiny explosions going off in my mouth and throat. A nice reminder of childhood.

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lastmanbook.jpgjessiejuneatlake.jpgIf you’ve never read Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, “The Last American Man”, I suggest you pick it up this Fourth for a bit of quirky, patriotic fun.  It chronicles the true story of a modern day hero who lives in a teepee in the Appalachian Mountains, eating only what he himself picks, raises or kills.  The guy is an egomaniac and a genius, and the writing, especially when detailing how he forages in the woods, is funny and sensitive and page-turningly good.     

The only problem with that book is the title.  He’s not the last American man. My mother is.

She spends every summer, and most of every fall, wading through rivers with a fly-fishing rod, and hiking giant, shale-covered mountains to sleep under the stars.  She’s had staring contests with bears and cougars, weathered lightning storms under scraggly trees, and once hiked three miles back to her truck with a broken tailbone.   

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