Winter

Sweet potatoes were not my responsibility this year, instead, I volunteered to make my stuffing, a shaved brussel sprout salad, cranberries, this tart, and mini-cranberry hand pies.

While the tart was baking in the oven, I decided to roast the one sweet potato I had on hand and 3 purple beets. The oven was already pre heated – time management is the key to life. Don’t you agree? I knew I wanted to make a quinoa and beet salad over the weekend and roasting the beets in advance, stored in a bit of vinaigrette is always a great time saver. The sweet potato, I decided, would be breakfast, “the day after”.

I had found this muffin recipe a few weeks back and experimented by swapping out some of the original ingredients and turned it into a pumpkin-pecan muffin. They were very good. Packing some up for both Levi’s teacher as well as a friend of mine who suddenly lost her husband to a massive heart attack, I was only left with a nibble and a few crumbs. I liked them enough, but felt they needed that WOW factor.

Bittersweet chocolate chips and a sprinkling of streusel topping was just what I was looking for. The WOW factor was achieved and a basic, gluten free muffin base is now happily tucked away in my overflowing recipe binder.

Some drinks are just good. Some drinks are good stories with provenance. Some drinks are all the above!

My Mimi’s people are from the southwest corner of Georgia. Many of her Bainbridge cookbooks are part of my treasured library of culinary literature. Mimi loves to read them and be reminded of all the loved ones she knew growing up and the delicacies they served from their sideboards. This recipe comes from one of these beloved bindings of culinary delights.

But like any good Southern dish, there is a story with this one. Mimi has made this drink for us many a time while growing up and particularly in the wintertime. With truckloads of Florida’s citrus crop crossing the state line and popping up for sale on street corner, farm stands, and markets, oranges and other various and sundry citruses are at their peak. This drink is fantastic with the freshest of Florida’s finest, and I now serve it with a bit of history too.

Let’s pretend for just a tiny moment that it has not been in the 80s here in Los Angeles over the past few days. We can also pretend that I did not lay outside in shorts and no t-shirt in the sun on a big madras print blanket with a book and three small dogs who insisted on standing on my back, butt and head. And let’s also pretend that yesterday I didn’t get home and fight the urge to run straight to the grill with a beer in my hand.

Maybe it's because I grew up in New England, home of New England Clam Chowdah. Or maybe it's because it was my mom's favorite soup. All I know is that every winter, as sure as the leaves fall from the trees, I crave a bowl of steaming hot corn chowder.

When I called my mom to tell her I wanted to make corn chowder and would like her recipe, she said, "Ooh, corn chowder! That's my favorite soup." I smiled.

"I'm sorry, honey, I don't have a recipe. But, it's chowder. Everyone knows how to make chowder." Or so every New England mother who makes chowder firmly believes.

So I conjured up images and smells of mom's corn chowder and started chopping and sauteing and pureeing. I added sausage for depth of flavor and cheddar cheese for richness. Then I adorned each serving with a simple corn relish that added just the right amount of texture to keep things interesting. The chowder turned out just like I wanted it to: it was wonderfully thick and creamy and had a deep corn flavor.

After I was finished, I called my mom and told her all about it. Her response: "Ooh, that sounds wonderful, honey! Can I have the recipe?"

So if you froze summer sweet corn, now is the time to whip it out. Of course, either frozen or canned corn from the supermarket works just as well.