Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

My house has been overrun with hungry kids lately (and I like it that way). I don’t mind it at all but there better be something coming out of the oven at all times. Can you imagine the look on a gaggle of teen’s faces when you pull out a tray of freshly baked doughnuts? Yep, it’s as priceless as you can imagine.

Also, have I mentioned my town does NOT have a doughnut shop? It must be some kind of joke. It’s a totally unmet demand as far as I’m concerned and I think someone could get rich quick if they put one in. Anyone, anyone? Now, there are doughnuts in the bakeries of all the grocery stores, but they are not the same as a doughnut shop doughnut. You understand what I’m saying. 

Therefore, I started making my own doughnuts. We love the cake-like ones as you see here. And they are so easy to make…so easy.

This is great for a Mother's Day morning breakfast because you can throw it together the night before. I make two or three pans for big brunch parties.

You can vary the fillings – add sausage or bacon, leftover vegetables and feel free to substitute any good melting cheese, such as Havarti, sharp cheddar.

To weigh down the assembled strata, Cooks Illustrated suggests using two 1-pound boxes of brown or powdered sugar, laid side by side over the plastic-covered surface (A gallon-sized zipper-lock bag filled with about 2 pounds of sugar or rice also works.).

From the LA Times

The first time I met chef Paul Prudhomme, he was peering over the stove in his narrow test kitchen, a converted shotgun house just outside the French Quarter in New Orleans. Chef was heating oil in a large cast-iron skillet, and when he saw me, he invited me over to watch him fix gumbo.

When the oil was smoking hot, he quickly whisked in flour to form a roux — "Cajun napalm," he called it — the bubbling mass darkening to a deep chocolate brown in minutes. He stirred a trinity of vegetables into the roux to stop the cooking — onions, celery and bell peppers — then added the roux to a pot of boiling stock. Chopped andouille sausage and garlic went in as he patiently watched the stew, tasting occasionally, over a slow, quiet hour while it gently simmered away. When the rich aroma was almost too much to bear, Chef added chopped chicken, and soon the gumbo was ready.

I can't say which I savored more: the depth of flavor from a seemingly simple dish or the unhurried quiet, almost sacred, time spent preparing it.

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The biggest problem with dating an ultra-runner is how unimpressive your small, daily achievements seem in comparison.  My boyfriend, Shannon, ran 8 ultra-marathons (marathons longer than 26.2 miles) in 2012, bringing his race and training mileage to around 3500 miles in just one calendar year. 3500 miles- the distance from New York to Los Angeles, on foot.

I’m still in a great deal of denial about the whole thing.

One of the perks of dating an ultra-runner, however, is that you get to cheer them on in some truly amazing places.  This past January, we traveled to Hawaii so he could compete in one of the hardest ultra-marathons in the world; The H.U.R.T. 100 Mile Endurance Run.

“Compete” is actually the wrong word.  Most 100 mile races are so challenging that the runners try to concentrate more on finishing than finishing first.  I learned a lot on this trip while listening to racers tell stories about how desperately they wanted to quit mid-race but reached deep within themselves and found the emotional and physical fortitude to continue on.

But wait a minute.  Back to me.