Smithy

Earlier I started talking about how things have changed in the last 25 years. Today I'm going to discuss it in the frame of the North Shore and Duluth, by way of leading you to a smoked fish tour. The North Shore of Lake Superior was not even passable by road, a century ago. People went to Grand Marais, some 90 miles upshore from Duluth, by boat or not at all. In the summer the mail came the same way. In the winter an Ojibwe man named John Beargrease ran the mail by dog team, and every winter there's a commemorative sled dog race along the same route. Fast forward a few decades, and there was a road that ran inland but generally not along the shore. That road is now county road, not state, and not considered very scenic. It's a wonderful back-route detour to avoid the tourist traffic, if you know it. By the time I got here, the highway ran right up the shore, but it was twisty and rather narrow, and a couple of bad patches netted overanxious truckers every winter. As transportation has gotten better and tourism has increased, the road has been steadily improved. I'm not always sure it's an improvement, really: the better the road, the faster people travel it. The highway folks would know whether the accident rate has gone down. I don't. I do know the traffic's heavier and faster, although usually not when I'm driving the road. Tourism has also meant an increase in building, and a tendency to go more upscale in the resorts. Certain areas like Castle Danger have always had tourist resorts. Some have been sacrificed to the grader to make way for newer, larger, fancier resorts and condos. Some have managed to stay the same. Some have adapted in their own way. Cases in point, all within a half mile of each other: The Gooseberry Park Cabins have been around as long as I can remember. Although they've gotten a face lift sometime in the past decade, I believe they're the same size they always were. By the way, that's Lake Superior in the background. This picture doesn't show it clearly, but the Wisconsin shoreline, at least 20 miles away, was clearly visible yesterday. A similar set of cabins, with a quirky little statue out front, was demolished just up the highway maybe 10 years ago, to make way for the Grand Superior Lodge and Conference Center. Note how much bigger everything is? They have condos for sale or rent, hotel rooms for rent with a couple of conference rooms, and a smashingly good restaurant and bar. I have to admit, I like the restaurant, and the conference facilities have come in handy. Still, it represented a major change to the area. You'll find things like medallions of venison in a port wine sauce, or pecan-crusted walleye, or some other interesting twist on local food. Just across the road from the Gooseberry Cabins, and perhaps still owned by the same people, is the Rustic Inn. The Rustic has done a fine job of adapting and expanding, and as far as I know they do a booming business. Their meals have always been good when I've gone, but to the best of my knowledge it's still basic down-home cooking, done beautifully. I could be wrong, it's a while since I ate there except for their pies. Now, here's how they adapted: see the two end buildings, one saying "Pies" and the other saying "Gift Shop"? They used to be joined by a much smaller, shorter segment. I think that segment held the actual restaurant, but my memory may be wrong. When the business had to be relocated to make way for the highway expansion, they moved those two segments and joined them with a significantly larger, nicer restaurant. It's lovely inside: hardwood floors, comfortable seating, and... ...the best pies on the North Shore, perhaps in the state. Don't let anyone kid you about this: the Rustic Inn's pies are far better than Betty's. They regularly make apple and chocolate pies, that I can recall. The chocolate pie crust is flaky and delicate, just spiced with cinnamon. When the season is right, you can get tart sweet strawberry rhubarb pie, or blueberry pie, or mixed berry pies. Fresh produce at its finest. I thought about stopping to buy some pie, but right now I'm overwhelmed with smoked fish. Take my word for it. Stop in some time and try it for yourself. Castle Danger, where these photos were taken and where I lived for a time, is about 9 miles up the shore from Two Harbors. Roughly the same distance downshore from Two Harbors is the fishing community of Knife River. There are at least 3 smoked fish operations there as well as a small diner. I went first to Russ Kendall's Smoked Fish, as it's the one I usually think of when I go to Knife River. SnowAngel, is this the one you mean? Inside and behind the counter is an amazing variety of fish, all smoked on the premises and most from Lake Superior: trout, cisco, herring, whitefish, 2 kinds of salmon, and smoked shrimp. No, the salmon and shrimp aren't local. You can't see it in the photo, but the young woman holding a whitefish for inspection was wearing a tee-shirt that said "Fish aren't for farming. Eat wild fish." The sketch was of a fish riding a tractor traveling down neat rows of fish tails coming up from the ground. I came away with whitefish, cisco, herring, and a bit of salmon. I'll show you my take later and describe the differences. Here are salmon, cisco and herring, so you can see relative sizes. We had a lovely chat, the energetic young woman and I, and during the course of the conversation I learned that Smokey Kendall is not Russ Kendall, and that the place I know as "Betty's Bar" also sells fish! I hadn't realized that before, although the sign out front clearly says so. I backtracked to Betty's. This place is the local watering hole, and every so often there's an old-timey music jam session. The other fun thing about Betty's is her Betty Boop fixation. If you look very closely, you'll see salmon, cisco, whitefish and trout on the counter in the lower left of the picture. I had to do a comparison, you see. These two places, which may or may not have been founded by brothers (depending on whose story is right) have both been in business for decades, are quite unchanged, and thriving. Now let's go down the shore to Duluth and Canal Park, to see some changes. I'm going to focus on my two favorite businesses in the Dewitt-Seitz building. You saw its exterior some time ago. First stop: Northern Waters Smokehaus. They've been in business about 5 years, and they represent the beautiful side of change: more choice than ever before. Check out these meats! I didn't get the andouille sausage in there, but to my tastes it's pretty good. It probably isn't hot enough for true Southerners, but it has a nice texture and spice. (Up here, many natives think that ketchup is 'hot'. That's changing too, but allowances must still be made.) There's a fine selection of artisan cheeses, both domestic and imported. You can try nearly anything. You aren't obligated to buy. I was looking for Bravo Farms cheddar, and they were out, but I came away with some Beaufort cheese and (what else?) smoked salmon. Oh yes, I was nearly forgetting the fish! I was suprised to see that they did have smoked whitefish; it's never registered on me before. They are the only place I've seen with flavored coatings on their smoked salmon: dill, Cajun, black pepper and coriander. You can also get plain smoked fish. This shot shows multi-striped fish - the variety pack, so to speak - but filets with only one coating, or none at all, are also available. That's whitefish at the left. This place also has a deli section with excellent sandwiches. I dithered over a gyros today but thought better of it and moved on. I have an unbelievable amount of stuff to try, at this point. The Blue Heron Trading Company just celebrated its 20th anniversary. They're the local gourmet food, kitchen gadget and cookware store. Cooking classes here fill up in a heartbeat - as in, the day the schedule arrives in the mailbox. There's an excellent selection of condiments, oils, sauces, olives, etc. as well as glassware, dishes, and fun textiles. A lot of my glassware has come from here, and this was one of the places we registered at for our wedding. If I want to try a tikka sauce and have no idea how it should taste, I have 2 choices: make it blind out of a cookbook, or buy a jar here and try it out. In the foreground, a small part of the selection; in the background: the class kitchen. In the background, you can see the original building vault - I assume this room was the accounting office originally, but I don't really know. A sketch of the original lift bridge is over the door. I've spent a lot of money on tablecloths and napkins here over the years. See what I mean about the selection? You would NOT have seen this 25 years ago. I bought a tube of tomato paste and let Jane get back to work. I forgot to buy saffron. Two other changes I can point out: (I don't remember sushi being in the Twin Ports area, ever, but now it's back.) ... and... ...don't get me wrong, the rise in tourism has also brought in a tide of chain restaurants, just like every other place. I've ignored them because I'm far more interested in the Vietnamese restaurant in the Dewitt-Seitz building (or the Lakewalk Cafe, for that matter), the new India Palace down the road, or the long-standing Wrazidlo's Meats that flourishes in its third generation. I'm sorry not to have pictures of these last three. You may have noticed, I don't eat out much - too much fun to cook, myself - so I can only show you what's there from the outside. As for Wrazidlo's, that's a definite oversight. It's my favorite butcher, and the folks there are terrific. They even have smoked salmon. Edited to correct a labeling error.

Here's a mystery weed for y'all: what is it? It really is a mystery to me, so unless someone else comes up with an answer, don't expect one here. Russ asked me whether it was "anything worth keeping" and I said no, to which he breathed a sigh of relief. Then I started looking at it more. It doesn't have much of an odor to me, and it has no more than a green taste, nothing recognizably herby. Flowers are pretty, though, aren't they? There's more growing in my unweeded garden, so losing this particular plant from the pavement won't hurt anything. Still...I could give Russ a start if someone on eGullet said "That's valuable! Don't pull it!" and told me what it is.

That's a nice idea! Thanks!

I'm having an afternoon snack of potica. You guys started it.

This looks so good! We like stuffed thighs but are not overly fond of pesto. I have used roasted red peppers and cheese among other things. Tying them is a bit of a pain at first but it is surprising how how quickly one gets the knack of it. Haven't tried dental floss though. ← What do you use to tie them? Heavy thread, as for a turkey, or something lighter? (I'm guessing not nylon!)

Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the tour. No, Ichi-Ban hasn't shown up yet. We spent a lot of time looking for him this morning. My old (over 17 years) cat, Tab Hunter, once spent 3 or 4 days gone, and I finally found him up a tree. I'm hoping that will happen this time too, and that Ichi-Ban hasn't become some coyote's meal. He can climb. This morning was the usual cup of coffee, then a prolonged woods trek, then a slight change to the pita sandwich: smoked turkey with avocado, and a plum on the side. So far that's been stretched out to cover lunch as well. I'll edit this to add photos after I get them uploaded. (It tasted better than it looks.) We also noted hairy woodpeckers, red finches, black-capped chickadees, and - a new one! - Gray Jays (a.k.a. Canadian Jays, a.k.a. Camp Robbers) at our feeders. Alas, none of the photos was worth uploading. Edited for photos and bird breakfast commentary.

Sorry, I don't know about that market in Cloquet. But now you know about the Makinen market. I don't think I've bothered with the Cup and Saucer, ever. If I'm eating out in Two Harbors, chances are I'll go to the Blackwoods Inn. It's part of a chain of 3 or 4 (Two Harbors, Duluth, Cloquet? and/or Proctor?) but it's still excellent food. For one-of-a-kind, go another 9 miles north to the Rustic Inn in Castle Danger, or for that matter the Grand Superior Lodge more or less across the way. Or stop shorter and go to the New Scenic Cafe on old highway 61, around French River. I didn't know that about the Coke cans. That's a good one. It doesn't look as though this blog will encompass a fly-in breakfast or lunch, but I may well work in another aerial photo or two. In the meantime, here's a bit of information. Have you ever wondered how one of these gets up on land, or back down again, without wheels? Here's how:

It took me a second take to read this right. I was wondering what a mumpkin (rhyme with pumpkin) was I'm thinking of getting A the Pimsleur Arabic (Eastern), I've heard very good things. How did you start learning Arabic? ← My husband dragged me along in the souks in preparation for a camping trip, with me being besieged by people shouting at me in every conceivable language. At every turn I'd try to say the equivalent of "don't want" or "no thanks" and by accident be saying "don't know" or "hello" instead. That's how I started. After that, I picked up a copy of Russell McGuirk's Colloquial Arabic of Egypt. It won't help with the alphabet or reading, but it started me off on the phrases. Russ tells about being at almost the same language skills as I was when he first lived in Egypt. One day he frantically jumped aboard the People's Ferry (across the Nile) as it was slipping away from the dock. He bonked somebody on the head with his tripod. As the victim turned angrily to Russ, Russ said, ever so politely and quickly, in his very best Arabic, "No thank you!"

I headed home tonight, camera in hand, taking photos to continue the discussion about changes along the North Shore. I bought smoked fish at two places. I learned a lot. I did not continue into Duluth for my final smoked fish because of the hour. I had things to taste and things to write. When I got home, I learned that Ichi-Ban, our beloved firstborn-of-the-litter not-quite-year-old cat, still hadn't come home from his overnight excursion. He's never been away this long. We spent the hours beating the woods, to no avail. The upshot is that dinner was a mere skeleton of what I'd planned, and there is no photo essay on changes to the North Shore. Tomorrow, I hope. In Egyptian parlance: bokra, mumpkin, insha-allah. Tomorrow, maybe, God willing. (SnowAngel, did you know that Russ Kendall and Smokey Kendall are not the same person? They don't even run the same business! They're rivals!) Dinner, such as it was, was pesto chicken. There were to be fabulous sides and salads and mint ice cream, all from the garden. Sorry. There was toast. The pesto is pesto - basil from my garden pots, walnuts from California via my freezer, olive oil and salt and grated parmesan from wherever. I assume you're familiar with this, but believe me, if you aren't, ask away! This recipe is an adaptation of one in Cooking Pleasures magazine, June/July 2003. I've made a few changes, but not enough to claim it and post it. Put the pesto into boneless chicken thighs. (The original recipe specified boneless skinless chicken breasts, with pockets slit in them for the pesto. I didn't have any, and I prefer thighs anyway.) Roll the thighs up and skewer them closed with toothpicks. Brown them in olive oil, making sure that they're cooked safely through. When the chicken is adequately cooked, remove it to a warming platter and put it in the oven. Deglaze the pan with cherry tomatoes cut in half (the largest of these were from our garden pot). So goes the recipe. I added some of the red wine I was drinking. Deglaze, cook down until there's a nice sauce with tomatoes. Pour those over the serving platter, and serve at once. Remember to warn your dinner guest(s) that there are toothpicks in the meal. I'm wondering about thread to tie the chicken rolls closed next time. Russ said I could just use dental floss; then he could eat and floss at the same time. Such a deal, eh? The wine in the photo and the sauce is a Dogajolo dry red table wine of Tuscany, 2004. It's mostly sangiovese. Pretty good with the chicken. Russ is drinking MGD light. The chicken is drop-dead simple and drop-dead good. I recommend this treatment.

We've always suspected there was more to the trade war than the citrus council let on! I really do think the coating is the ticket. Scrub it hard. Maybe there's even something like vinegar, or a mild detergent (sounds dangerous, doesn't it?) to help get the coating off. Maybe someone reading has some ideas. Here's another question. Could you pack the lemons in NZ and transport the jar with you to Japan? I don't know the rules about that. It sounds as though a metal cookpot would be more appropriate, then. The heavier your vessel, the better it will be for braising. It seems to be something about the way the mass evens out temperature fluctuations. Although...as I think about it, your braising temperature doesn't have to be above boiling. Maybe you're looking at a good sous-vide vessel? We've picked out feeder spots to suit ourselves, and the bird community has spread the word. I think it's more a question of providing the right sort of food for the birds that will come near the house. They seem to like having an easy getaway, so something that's under a rail (on which a predator could perch, unseen, and then leap) isn't likely to do as well as something with a good view for the bird and multiple exits. Certain birds just won't come near the house anyway; they're too shy, or they're bug eaters and not interested in our seeds. If we were to set feeders out at the edge of the yard we might attract some of the shy seed eaters, but without a telescope it wouldn't provide the birdwatching opportunities. I don't think sun or shade matters much. Many of our birds sit in the shade until they're hungry, then come perch at the feeder whether it's sunny or shady. Interestingly, the blue jays have stopped coming to the rail feeder at all. I think they don't like the cats. The chickadees are less careful. I've gotten the chickadees to eat out of my hand, once or twice, but it took a great deal of patient standing with my hand out. It was hard not to laugh. Edited to add a lemon question.

Well, there was the time that first winter when I decided the space between the inner and outer window was a fine second refrigerator for my stash of colas...and then the bright January morning when I came out to see a cola-colored frozen waterfall all down the inside of my window. The Coke had frozen, expanded, and apparently exploded the cap right off of the bottle, and the gush had frozen onto the window as it flowed. It took forever to get that thawed and cleaned. Oh, that's not what you mean? Nor learning not to leave champagne outside too long in the snowbank? Nor realizing that if the deer carcass is left too long hanging it'll freeze and make more work? You ask an excellent question. It's hard to know how much of my change has been due to adapting, and how much has been due to my expanding interest in cookery. When I first arrived here, my usual cooking was pretty darned simple. Eggs and bacon for breakfast if I had time, toast otherwise; sandwich for lunch, fried chicken (from the frozen deli case) or broiled chicken (in my toaster oven) or broiled steak or pizza from the frozen deli case were pretty much it. I don't remember what I ate for vegetables. Probably not much more than potatoes. What I did miss, terribly, was good fruit. I didn't expect summer fruit in January, since you couldn't get it in Central California then either, but I pined for it in summer. There came a summer when I realized that by careful selection I could get good nectarines for about 2 weeks around here, and I started pigging out for those two weeks. I've learned to be grateful for good transport and better storage for non-local produce like coffee, avocadoes, summer nectarines, lemons. In the meantime, I've also learned to seek out and appreciate what grows well here. You can't get raspberries like this in California, at least not in the central farmlands where I grew up: There's no better woods snack than these sunlit jewels, eaten out of hand as fast as you can pick them. Blueberries and wild strawberries are right up there, too, but raspberries are my terminal weakness. Tomatoes. Garrison Keillor said in a monologue that along about April you'd be ready to kill for a tomato - a real tomato, not those tomato-flavored styrofoam things you get in the store. And he's right. I learned to love tomatoes and savor them while they lasted, whereas before I'd taken them for granted. Being a born hoarder, I do my best to put some up in order to savor them year-round. In California, we just did without for a few months, knowing they'd be back soon. I learned to can only after I moved here. The smoked fish to which I referred is something I never saw when I was growing up. Dad brought home fresh fish (trout from the mountains) and game from his beloved hunting and fishing trips, but there weren't commercial fisheries where we lived. There are commercial fisheries here. While we don't have the variety of fish you have in the Gulf, we do have people who catch the fish to enjoy now, and put some of it by for later. Smoking it. Pickling it. (Pickled herring wouldn't be my choice for a steady diet, but it's a fine appetizer.) I confess, I haven't cottoned to lutefisk. Raw materials such as nuts travel well and store pretty well, so I could expand my variety with those kinds of materials. Was that adaptation, or growth? A bit of both, I think. I'm rambling here, but I think the long answer can be summarized by saying that I've learned more to pay attention to ephemera and savor them fully, while still trying to preserve what I can for later. I took it all for granted when I was younger. Is that adaptation from this climate, or from maturity as the years start whizzing by? You tell me. Is that the kind of thing you're asking, or did I miss the mark? (And yes, sometimes I think I'm nuts too.)

I've tried just about every way. My preferred method, when I have time, is to peel and de-seed them. When I'm in a hurry I just de-seed them and call it good. This particular batch had been chopped in a food processor (not pureed, just chopped) but I've sometimes just cut them in half, dug or squeezed out the pulpy seedy stuff to the extent possible without damaging the flesh, and crammed them into a container or freezer bag. ← Hm. In our Ohio days when we had a garden, we never got so fancy. We'd take the tomatoes just as they came off the vine, give them a little bit of a rinse under the hose, and then freeze them like you'd do for berries: on a sheet pan in a single layer until they're solid, and then packed into a double layer of freezer bags. Then, when you're ready to use them, you take out as many as you'll need, and stick them in the fridge inside a bowl. When they thaw, the skins slip right off. If you can catch them while they're still a little frozen-crunchy inside, it's also pretty easy to dig out the seeds and the slime they're encased in. If they're completely thawed, the tomato flesh is a little more fragile. MelissaH ← I tried a similar method first, but found that I prefer doing the work up front. It turns out to be easier for me to prep things as much as possible in advance, then freeze, to minimize the work on the cooking day. I'm disorganized enough during the actual cooking without the extra steps of thawing, then prepping. There's also the lovely time of spending a day, or a weekend, or times during several weekends, just pottering around the kitchen and putting things up for later. Edited for clarity

Oh, dear...now that you mention it, it does look like that from the road!

Breakfast this morning was yet another pita with avocado and the last of the salmon spread, and a plum. Lunch will be leftover beans and chicken from last night. Summer's back. I hope to get some good North Shore photos - and a representative sampling of smoked fish - on the way home tonight.

I've tried just about every way. My preferred method, when I have time, is to peel and de-seed them. When I'm in a hurry I just de-seed them and call it good. This particular batch had been chopped in a food processor (not pureed, just chopped) but I've sometimes just cut them in half, dug or squeezed out the pulpy seedy stuff to the extent possible without damaging the flesh, and crammed them into a container or freezer bag.

Those are home-pickled lemons, and they more or less puree their own pulp after they sit long enough. I just slit them into quarters still connected at the end, pack with kosher salt, mash down into a jar and cover with more lemon juice. Turn the jar over every day or so to redistribute the settled salt, and they're done in about a month. I tried using some other spices once, but the batch went wrong and I wasn't impressed. By the way, I've had the best success doing this with lemons right off the tree. In the USA commercially packed lemons, even the organic ones, have been harder to get right because the peels have stayed hard instead of going soft and salty tasty. I think the food-grade wax coating must prevent the brine from penetrating the peel. The last time I tried preserving store-bought lemons, I scrubbed the exteriors thoroughly with a clean new abrasive pad (safe for Teflon, no soap, that kind of thing.) It worked better, but I still prefer getting them off the tree. How is citrus handled in Japan, or New Zealand? There's something about porous clay that really seems to make a difference in the cooking, but beyond that there seem to be differences among the clays. I haven't tried side-by-side comparisons yet, but my Moroccan Rifi tagine seems to behave differently than either of my Egyptian (Nile clay) pots. What's your earthenware nabe like?

Isn't ceviche a Mexican take on cured fish? (Sorry, no recipes at hand, just an idea.)

Dinner was djej mqalli from Paula Wolfert's Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco. I used the tagine again and made almost the right adjustments, but needed to make a couple more. Start with a cut-up chicken, marinaded in a mix of preserved lemon pulp, garlic, salt, oil. The chicken is supposed to be coated with this mix and left overnight in the refrigerator, but I only was able to give it a couple of hours. Pour chicken and sauce (don't forget the livers, they really do make a difference) into the tagine, along with other spices and seasonings. Bring it to a simmer, and turn the chicken periodically. I started warming the chicken before adding water, and I added much less than the recipe called for, because that seems to be what the tagine wants. After the chicken has simmered for a bit you're supposed to add the olives and preserved lemon peel, and mash the chicken livers. I forgot all that until the boiling-down step. After the chicken is nearly done, put it in the oven to brown and crank the heat up on the sauce to boil it down and thicken it. Here's where I went wrong, I think: I should have put the sauce in a different pan and put the chicken in the oven in the tagine. I kept the tagine on the burner with the sauce. It didn't really thicken properly, even after a half hour. It might be that I didn't defat the sauce, but I think it was because I didn't dare bring it up to a furious boil. As it was, I had the heat on medium-high, and even with a heat diffuser I hated to turn it up more. Eventually I gave it up and put the browned chicken back into the sauce. You're supposed to spoon the thickened sauce over the chicken and serve at once. Oh, well... ...it was still very, very good. I really like this recipe, a lot. I served it with Cub Foods Italian Peasant Bread, one of the reasons I shop at that particular grocery store. The bread is one of those heat-and-eat things. You good bakers don't need that sort of thing, but this has a better texture and flavor than anything I've ever made. Djej mqalli, Cub Foods bread, and green beans tossed with a vinaigrette and sesame seeds. Oh my, oh my.

Good heavens, that's something I'd've never thought of, and it looks wonderful! (I love eggplant.) Can you give the rough proportions of about how much bechamel per eggplant? It's definitely something I want to try! I'm really enjoying the blog! Thanks - Marcia. ← It's one cup milk, plus a couple tablespoons heavy cream, so whatever amount that makes of bechamel in the usual proportions (1.5 - 2c?), to 3 lbs' worth of large globe eggplants (I use 3). The eggplants really collapse in on themselves, so there isn't as much eggplant volume as 3 lbs would suggest. It's darned close to half and half, judging by the eyeball. It really is wonderful.

Downy woodpeckers already? Ours pretty much vanish for the summer. We've given up on leaving suet out once it gets warm: not because the suet melts (our orchard store actually sells suet blocks that are guaranteed not to melt) but because the &^%$ squirrels demolish a whole block in about ten seconds. Do you have a squirrel issue? ← Our downies stay around all year, courting and raising babies and sticking through the winter. I hadn't realized they'd be migratory elsewhere. The squirrels can't get at these suet blocks because they're suspended from second-floor windows. It's fun watching them try, but they haven't needed to since we have put out a feeder for them on the deck rail. They haven't been there lately either, though. I'm afraid they've either disappeared into the woods (I hear some occasionally) or into the gullets of our animals. I've done something stupid with the formatting, and after 3 or 4 attempts I'm going to give up trying to requote you. As for the dishwasher: I looove having a dishwasher! When Russ and I were courting we used to compare notes on the most important features in our living quarters. For him a dishwasher was a prerequisite, and for me it was a garage. He bought me a dishwasher, ostensibly as a gift but really out of self-defense. It's made a huge difference in the way I cook, and I'd hate to do without one now. I'd still forego the dishwasher before the garage in this country, but it would be a closer race. As for the range hood: don't I wish I were so skillful! It's definitely an issue not to have a hood, and I choose what I cook accordingly. Unfortunately our stove is on an interior wall, with a bedroom on the next floor up, so there's no good place to send a vent. That's something I'll want to change if we ever remodel.

Glad to oblige, and thanks for the compliments! Here's a cross-section of potica. Noted the ultra-thin layers - one of a fine breadish dough and the other of a sweet walnut filling. It's all rolled together like a jelly roll, but considerably more delicate. This is usually a special-day or holiday treat, because it's so labor intensive...that is, unless you get it at the bakery and pay someone else for their trouble. When you slice it, you can warm it up if you're patient enough. I wasn't. It's sweet and nutty, a wonderful pastry. Edited to add: I don't know whether there are regional versions of it. I've never heard of any, but I only heard of it - much less learned to pronounce it - last year.

How interesting! Any idea whether they taste the same? I guess I'm going to find out, one way or the other, but guidance never hurts.

I'm finally caught up to this morning, and wondering whether everyone's bored and wandered off, or doing something else, or feels as though he or she is being offered a drink from a fire hose. Breakfast was buttered toast and coffee. I didn't have to go anywhere right away, so I could enjoy the bright sparkly morning. It's warmed up in the last couple of days, although the wind blew hard while it did so. I tell you, I'm so thrilled with the bouquet Shubie made for me yesterday, I feel a bit like Winthrop in The Music Man: "Thithter, thithter! Ithn't thith the motht thcrumthiouth thing you've ever theen?" (It's really hard to write a lisp, isn't it? ) While I was enjoying coffee and sunshine, I heard a suspicious bump coming from under the sink. Gracie Mu has taking to exploring cupboards lately. Here's a better picture of a downy woodpecker eating outside the window. The downside of having these feeders so close is that the suet that holds the seeds together gets sloppy when it's warm, and it speckles the window. I think this bird is starting to molt. Someone asked offline about what the kitchen looks like, and over on MelissaH's thread there's certainly been a lively discussion about kitchen design. Here are some photos of my kitchen. Not much counter space, given the way I cook and tend to clutter things up, so this cart rolls out to be a work surface when I need more space. Most of my good china and glassware is here - at least, the stuff we got for our wedding. Now that my parents have cleared out their house, I've got more tucked away out of sight. Mom and Dad gave us money some years back, when we moved into this house, "to buy something nice for the house so that when you look at it, you'll think of us". Well, we bought the china hutch and Mom and Dad were able to come see it before it was too late. Dad choked up; it was just the kind of thing he'd wanted us to pick out. I think of them often anyway, but now that Dad's gone it's more poignant. MelissaH, this last is especially for you, in light of your kitchen renovation thread. Note the storage, but not much useful work surface, under the corner cupboards. Now. I'm going to go away and do some useful things like the critical shopping I didn't do yesterday. I'll check back later to see if there's any feedback on what I've posted so far. Any questions? Anything you'd especially like to see? Am I already giving too much information? Edited for spelling and clarity.

Dinner last night was an experiment of adapting a recipe to the tagine, and doing one of my favorite eggplant treatments. Both of these recipes, or at least the originals before I messed with them, came from The Sultan's Kitchen, by Özcan Ozan. First, my adaptation of Sultan's Delight, a tomatoey lamb dish that I wanted to try in the tagine. (He calls for doing it in a standard metal skillet.) Start with these ingredients: and, if you have a tall dog, be vigilant. I threw him outside (politely) after I snapped this photo and before he got any closer. Unfortunately, the phone rang later and distracted me while I was overseeing the outdoor charring of the eggplant. I lost a lamb chop then, and threw the dog back outside less politely. Cut up the lamb and start browning it. I used probably more fat in the tagine than I needed to, but the lamb was lean. After a bit, add the chopped onion, garlic and seasonings, and still later add the tomatoes. These tomatoes are the last of my frozen hoard of wonderful Farmers' Market tomatoes. Mountain Pride is one of the most memorable tomato varieties I've run across, in terms of flavor. Deb Shubat says she'll start some for me next year. I spooned them out to avoid adding more liquid, because I could already see I had more than I needed. Cover, and simmer until the meat is tender. While that's simmering, start the creamed eggplant (Hunkar Begendi). Watch, and you'll see some magic. I'd never heard of creamed eggplant before finding this cookbook. I'm amazed at how it works when you do it right. Poke the eggplants all over with a fork or knife. Char them over a flame, or under the broiler, until they collapse. It's important for them completely to collapse, or you'll have extra work later. (I did.) After the eggplants are soft all over, put them someplace until they're cool enough to handle. Peel them and drop them into a mix of water, lemon juice and salt. This is to keep them from browning too much, but it also adds flavor. Rather than show you those steps, I'm going to show you one of my favorite kitchen gadgets: my trusty Wear-Ever lemon juicer, rescued by my mother from a Navy wife who threw it away when Mom and Dad were in Okinawa. My mother knew a good thing when she saw it. This juicer has done yeoman's service for 2 generations now, squeezing countless lemons for lemonade, lemon meringue pies, and the odd bits of cookery. I use it nearly every day. If you ever see one on eBay or at a garage sale, get it. You'll wonder how you ever lived without it. So. The next step, basically, is make a bechamel sauce: butter, flour, then milk with a touch of cream, all whisked until it's creamy. I'm glossing over this but I'll add detail if anyone asks. Once it's creamy, add the (drained) eggplant. Now here's the magic: if you've done your job properly at the charring stage, the eggplant just falls apart and whisks into the bechamel. If you haven't been patient enough, you have to do a bit of choping and pureeing. A wand blender works well for this task. At some stage, shredded kasseri cheese is added in to finish the deal. Meanwhile, back at the tagine, the lamb is done. I used too much fat for the meat, I think. I hadn't added any liquid (the recipe calls for a lot, but I didn't think the tagine would want it) and there's still a lot there. Still, the lamb was tender and tasty, and the marriage of lamb with tomato and creamed eggplant with kasseri is perfect. I don't especially like kasseri on its own, but with the rest it's delicious. Isn't Shubie's bouquet wonderful?! That pinky dangly flower is called "Kiss Me Over the Garden Gate".

Nope! (That reminds me, I'm out of saffron, and I need it!) What size are your typical juice bottles over there?