Comfort Foods and Indulgences

People are surprised when they discover I don’t care for mushrooms. I’ve had difficulty getting enthusiastic about the earthy-flavored fungus from the forest. I haven’t developed an appreciation for their texture that feels like rubber bands in my mouth.

My repugnance toward mushrooms took a surprising turn last Friday evening when I had my first taste of freshly foraged chanterelles.

I was in Duluth for a weekend of touring urban vegetable gardens and dining on remarkable food with friends, all of us members of the Minneapolis-St. Paul chapter of Les Dames d’Escoffier International (LDEI). Les Dames, as members affectionately refer to the organization, is a world wide philanthropic society of professional women leaders in the fields of food, fine beverage and hospitality.

I was staying at the home of Beatrice and Dick Ojakangas, tucked into a wooded acreage in the countryside several miles outside the city of Duluth.

The year was 1996. I had just moved to San Francisco from Chicago, finally ridding myself of those long midwest winters and trading them in for even colder summers in the Bay Area. All joking aside, it was an eye-opening experience for me and one that I embraced fully. I absorbed the California experience on every level and tasted my way through the City, spending Saturday mornings at the old farmers’ market before it moved to the Ferry Building and familiarizing myself with local foods and personalities.

I grew to love Peet’s coffee (trust me, it took some doing), developed a huge crush on Albert Strauss, became obsessed with Tu Lan and all its horrors and discovered what eating fresh and local was all about.  Somewhere in there I discovered meyer lemons and instantly became obsessed with them. I started buying them whenever I could find them, matching them up with just about anything I could and realizing that while I may suffer from high cholesterol I will never ever develop a case of scurvy. Hallelujah!

I do my marketing on Friday’s. Sunday’s I load up on fruits and veggies at a local farmers market. By the time Saturday roles around, whatever is left in my vegetable bin isn’t so pretty. Inevitably, these items end up in a soup or a salsa or something random.

Cleaning out the vegetable bin (to make room for the newest and the freshest) left me with a few string beans, broccoli, left over roasted cauliflower, sauteed leeks (I keep sauteed leeks on hand to put in weekday morning eggs), about 1/2 cup of cooked lentils (leftovers from a previous meal), a carrot, a few stocks of celery, and a minced shallot.

A pot of soup was whipped up in less than 45 minutes and it was the perfect Saturday afternoon lunch. It is always so gratifying when I can create a healthy, whole meal without a plan or a recipe.

Soup, unlike baking, does not have to be exact. It’s not a science. Check your provisions, be creative, chop away, and make a double batch!

At one time or another, we've all had overripe bananas sitting on our counter tops waiting to be consumed. Unfortunately, most of the time they end up in the trash. I'm not a big fan of bananas in general, so that happens to me all the time. But I absolutely love using them as a device in baking. I almost purposely let them go brown just to have an excuse to use them for baking.

Banana bread is one of those confections that's always great to have on hand to offer friends when they stop by. Anyone would enjoy a thick slice spread with cinnamon butter served alongside coffee or tea. It's perfect for breakfast, brunch, or an afternoon pick-me-up. Banana bread also makes a great gift at holiday time or can be shared with coworkers, especially if baked as muffins. Even if you don't like bananas, like me, you will love this banana bread. The best part about this recipe is that it uses only two bowls. In one the dry ingredients are combined and in the other the wet. All one needs to do is dump and stir. No special culinary expertise required.