One day Joseph laid an egg…

I don't really remember how we came to own a do-it-yourself countertop chicken incubator but I do remember the day Joseph was born, I mean hatched. You see, Joseph thought she was people. And, we thought she was a he...until he, I mean she, laid an egg.

I do know that it was a fall morning in 1973. I remember because that was the year that my brother Greg was in eighth grade…the year he received his Sacrament of Confirmation. Who would have known that on that special morning the Holy Spirit would descend upon him in the form of a baby Rhode Island Red. Wasn’t it supposed to be a ball of fire and a dove or something? A red chicken? Close enough.

Anyway, rewind a few weeks earlier when we approached Villia, the Peruvian lady up the street, to part with three fertilized chicken eggs so we could conduct our home hatchery experiment. Her daughter Susan was in my class and we knew that she’d probably have a randy rooster or two willing to donate to the cause as their house was this wild wacky menagerie perched high atop the Fairfax hills. In fact, Mom, still a city girl at heart, was convinced that if she actually piloted our wood paneled Country Squire up the windy ascent that she’d never be able to turn it around and navigate back down. I remember many a birthday party at that house (carpooled by a friend’s mom of course) playing pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey surrounded by real live chickens, goats, ferrets a pony or two and I think a couple of monkeys until the Feds put 'em in cuffs and hauled them away.

So, the precious eggs made their way down the hill and into the heated plastic dome that sat on our counter until one morning…crack…Josephine, the sole survivor of our in vitro trio, made her entrance. At our request, Villia promptly bombed down the hill in her red 1964 Rambler station wagon to show us how to properly tend to a newborn baby chick. With her bright red comb and feisty demeanor, we were certain that we had hatched a rooster and promptly named our baby bird Joseph, in honor of the name my brother would take at confirmation that afternoon. What did we know, we were city folk after all?

Check out those sideburns (on my Dad...not Josephine). That's her in my Dad's arms.

Joseph thrived as the newest member of our brood and was the happiest free range rooster a family ever had. We held her, pet her, fed her table scraps, and soon she became fast friends with our German Shepherd named Brian Patrick (no wonder he had issues). They were the two coolest dudes ever to cruise a suburban backyard, despite their severe identity crises. Here they are both ready to be let in for the night. Yes, Josephine slept inside.

Until one day… Joseph laid an egg (in my toy box, thank you very much).

From that day forward, Joseph became known as Josephine and each day she rewarded our family with one luscious, speckled brown egg which she carefully deposited atop my baby doll’s former blankie. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to fully enjoy the runny, pale-yoked excuses for eggs that I resort to purchasing in 18 packs at my local market. Until today…

You see, my neighbor Laura told me that my other neighbor Natalie had taken to raising chickens in her backyard and was willing to share the love. Now, in some of my weaker wanna-be-Martha moments, I toyed with the idea of building a coop myself, but just didn't have the time, energy, know-how, money…everything…to do it. Get fresh eggs delivered on demand from the neighbor instead? Heck ya!

So, today I received my first delivery, and to celebrate, I decided to make a creamy, custardy whacked-out ice cream recipe that I concocted a couple of months ago during a fleeting whim to enter a Häagen-Dazs create-a-flavor contest...which apparently no longer exists. Oh well...another plan foiled. But I must admit, the French Toast Ice Cream that I cooked up was worthy. Here's what I did...

Start by making the "french toast" by cubing a few slices of nice firm white bread.

I melted some butter, brown sugar and cinnamon and drizzled it over the bread, then toasted them up in the oven.

While the french toast was toasting, I concocted some maple caramel sauce to swirl into the ice cream. Here's the brown sugar and maple syrup ready to melt down.

The experiment worked! I poured it into a gravy boat to chill while I made the custard for the ice cream. This makes more than you will need. Save the extra to pour over store-bought ice cream or to eat by the spoonful while standing in front of the fridge.

Custard can be a little tricky. William helped me separate the six, yes six, eggs...

...then I tempered the yummy yokes with hot milk, put the mix back in the pot, whisked and watched the temp till it reached 170 degrees. Don't scramble those eggs!

Strain out any little scramblies then chill it up before freezing it in your ice cream maker.

Uh huh...

French Toast Ice Cream

For the "toast"

Slice into 1/4" cubes:

• 4 slices of firm white bread (you will probably only use three but will want to snack on the extras)

Whisk together:

• 4 Tbs melted butter
• 2 Tbs. brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon

Drizzle butter mixture over cubes, toss to coat and toast in a single layer on a baking sheet at 300 degrees for 20-25 minutes until they are crispy and golden.

For the maple caramel sauce

Melt in a saucepan until dissolved:

• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 1/4 cup REAL maple syrup

Add and bring to a boil:

• 1/2 cup heavy cream

Gently boil until sauce is reduced by about 1/3, about 20 minutes. Chill.

For the ice cream custard

Whisk:

• 6 egg yolks
• 1/3 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp. cinnamon

Bring to a gentle boil:

• 2 cups of whole milk

Add half of the hot milk in a stream to the egg mixture, whisking the whole time. Then, add the egg mixture back into the pot and. cook over low heat , stirring constantly until the mixture is thick and the temperature is about 170 degrees. Slower is better and don't leave the pot to put the laundry in the dryer. The eggs will scramble in a blink if they get too hot!

Stir in:

• 1 cup heavy cream

Strain the mixture through a fine sieve and stir in:

• 3 Tbs. REAL maple syrup

Transfer to a stainless steel bowl and chill in the fridge or set over ice if you are in a hurry to get it into the ice cream maker (like me).

When the custard is nice and chilly, freeze the mixture in your ice cream maker* according to the directions. When it's ready, fold in the crunchy "french toast" cubes. Drizzle in the caramel sauce to taste and swirl it around without mixing it in entirely. Place in a tub then into the freezer to harden. Give it at least 2 or 3 hours (or just eat it soft with a spoon right out of the ice cream maker). May I recommend doing both...

Makes a little over a quart.

*Having an ice cream maker at home is fun! You can get one for as little as $25 or so at Target which is the model I used for a million years. Kids love it and it's very "cool" to be able to serve home made ice cream to guests. Last year, Mom bought me the freezer attachment for my Kitchenaid standing mixer...so easy. As long as I keep the canister in my freezer and heavy cream in my fridge, I can make ice cream on the fly any time.

I think I need a good cry...

Man oh, man oh, man...I have GOT to stop watching the news.

Looting in Chile, car arsons in Richmond, record foreclosures, health care in crisis and...dag nab it...it looks like another five days of rain!

Where did my rerun of I Dream of Jeannie go? That's what I always watch while I sit holed up at my computer doing my morning bookkeeping. Guess I wasn't fast enough at the draw to click over to Bewitched before the 11 am newscast snuck it's way into my 1967 heaven.

I'm telling you, this real life stuff sucks. That's why I think today I'll grab a bag of onions and let it all out. I'm not kidding.

Some might turn to the bottle, others might hit the gym and there are those who might resort to a pint of Ben and Jerry's, a box of Kleenex and Steel Magnolias On Demand. Me? I think I'll grab a 5-pound bag of onions, arm myself with my weapon of choice and revel in the beautiful, salty, sweet flood of tears that will run down my face as I slice and dice my way to cathartic release.

Here's the bonus; when I'm done, I'll be left drained, but gazing before me at a pile of pungent goodness that, when coaxed, will become a steaming bowl of some of the best soul food I know...french onion soup.

The good news is that generally I have almost everything I need on hand to prepare my prescription: onions, stock, a little booze, some cheese and a loaf of bread (even better if it's a day or two old).

Do note, however, that this is what will happen if you let your first-grader engage in Jedi light saber warfare with your baguette. No worries...even a little guy needs to release a little pent-up stress after a hard day at the office.

Back to soup...

I've been making French Onion Soup for as long as I can remember but it wasn't until just a couple of years ago that I actually decided to learn how to do it right. I searched the internet, scoured cookbooks and consulted my trusty files of tattered tear sheets hastily yanked from stacks and stacks of beloved magazines that I force myself to ritually part with every couple of years.

As you can see, I sort my files by six categories, "Sweet Favorites", "Sweet Tried and Good", "Sweet-to-Try", "Savory Favorites", "Savory Tried and Good" and "Savory-to-Try". "Sweet Favorites" gets the most action...I just had to replace the manila folder because the spine blew out. It's a far from perfect system but I think I have made substantial improvements over Mom's recipe filing method. Check it out...(more on that another time)!

OK. Back to the soup for real now.

After trying a few different versions, I have decided that good old Julia wins again. This is a version of her recipe from The Way to Cook that I have decided is the most like what I think French Onion Soup should taste like. You decide.

Start by thinly slicing up some onions. I used about a half-a-5-pound-bag of plain old yellow onions. Wipe your tears, blow your nose then move on. This is how the onions will look after you cook them a little but before you add the salt and sugar...

Carly told me NOT to use the photo below since it looks like a pot full of bait. She's right. But, I wanted to show you how the onions change as they cook. These are almost there...

Here is some toasty bread ready to pile with loads of cheese...

Speaking of cheese, I grated some to pile on the bread then I placed slices over everything to cover the surface of the bowl...

Yeah baby...

French Onion Soup Gratineed

Thinly slice:

• 2 1/2 pound of onions to make about 8 cups

Melt in a soup pot:

• 3 Tbs butter
• 1 Tbs. olive oil

Stir in the onions, cover the pan and cook slowly until soft, limp and tender (about 10 minutes).

Blend in:

• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp sugar

Raise the heat to moderately high and let the onions brown, uncovered. Stir them frequently so they don't burn (about 25-30 minutes until they reach a nice dark brown color).

Sprinkle in then cook and stir for another 2-3 minutes:

• 2 Tbs flour

Remove from heat, let cool a little then whisk in and blend:

• 2 cups of hot beef stock

Add in:

• 2 more quarts of beef stock
• 4 Tbs brandy
• 1 cup dry vermouth

Cover loosely and simmer about 1 1/2 more hours! Add salt and pepper to taste, if needed.

To gratinee:

Slice into 1" slices and toast:

• hardy French bread

Ladle the soup into oven-proof bowls or crocks and float one slice of bread in each.

Top with:

• Grated or sliced sharp Swiss cheese (I used Gruyere). I piled some grated cheese on the bread then placed additional slices strategically around so that it would cover the bread and ooze down the sides a bit.

Place all six bowls on a cookie sheet and place under the broiler until they are melty and toasty.

Serves 6

Note: Feel free to try chicken stock instead of beef if that's all you have or other kinds of booze such as white wine, or red wine for the Vermouth and Cognac or Armagnac for the brandy. I've seen versions using all of these and use what I have on hand.

Adapted from The Way to Cook: Julia Child

P.S. Since we're talking onions here, thought it might be a good time to share my two cents on how to dice one properly. Start by slicing the little stinker in half lengthwise. Cut the end off the stem end (shown on the onion on the right) and peel it leaving the root end in tact (shown on the onion on the left).

Place the flat side of the peeled onion half on the cutting board and firmly hold it down with the palm of your left hand (assuming you are right-handed). If you are going for a 1/4 inch dice, make horizontal slices up the onion, 1/4 inch apart, starting at the bottom. Slice from the stem end toward the root end leaving the root end in tact.

Now, make vertical slices down the onion, 1/4 inch apart, again, not slicing through the root end.

Next, slice across the surface of the onion, 1/4 inch apart until you reach the root and...

VOILA!

I'm in the mood for love...

...and I love chocolate.

So, what's a Swiss miss like me going to lay on my lovies this Valentine's Day...I'm thinking we're gonna have a fondue freak out.

Not that Charlie and the kids are first-time fonduers.

In fact, Carly's last birthday party was a Swiss-themed extravaganza complete with cheese and chocolate fondues, a cake shaped like a dairy cow, Swiss flag decor everywhere(toothpicks, napkin rings, candles, balloons, t-shirts), Edelweiss confetti...and even paper napkins with Heidi's little face emblazoned on them...

Here's the famous cow cake. I tried to make her stand upright but she fall down...go boom. I think I like her this way better...

Why, you ask, would a fourteen-year-old girl yearn for such a celebration (other than her DNA-encoded obsession with cheese and chocolate)? Perhaps it has something to do with the GIANT box of Swiss tchotkes collecting dust on our junk closet shelf. Mind you, this is just the tip of the Matterhorn, so to speak.

We've got pillows, beach towels, calendars, books and fanny packs shoved into drawers all over the house and pounds and pounds of Swiss chocolate that is, let's just say, no longer with us. Check out those Heidi paper napkins in the middle of the box...awesome!

You see, about ten years ago, Mom got a letter from a long-lost Swiss cousin. She had just had a baby girl (my cousin, not my Mom!) and, as an English teacher, was anxious to connect her young family with some real-live American relatives. So, these cousins (we're talking the real deal here...peasant blouses, dirndl skirts, snow-capped mountains, shuttered chalets, yodel music, cows with bells...the works) made the connection and over the years we've gotten to know each other by trading trinkets via airmail.

By now, Mildred (the little Swiss girl) must have the most impressive collection of Barney, Brittany and Hannah Montana t-shirts, tote bags and pencil sharpeners of any girl her side of the Alps. For sure, more than any family that flies the Stars and Stripes, we must hold the record for most wacky items brandishing the Swiss flag. I bet you don't have egg cups like these. In fact, I bet you don't have egg cups, period.

Anyway...back to fondue.


Aside from being one of the most delicious desserts on the planet, it is also one of the fastest and easiest to prepare. And, since we're talking Valentine's Day, what could be more romantic than gazing through the flicker of the fondue flame into each other's eyes over a silken pot of molten chocolate. Or, in our case, what could be more fun than wrestling over that same pot with two sugar-crazed kids and big daddy over the last cube of pound cake (the more likely scenario at our Valentine's table). Whatever your scene...chocolate fondue never disappoints.

Let's get fonduing...

Chop 8 ounces of great-tasting chocolate (I like bittersweet). This is Ghirardelli 60% Cacao Bittersweet.

Pour 1/2 cup of cream into a heavy saucepan and heat until it begins to steam (don't let it boil). Remove the pot from the heat, add the chopped chocolate and let stand for a minute or so while the chocolate begins to melt.

Stir the mixture until it is smooth and glossy then stir in 1-3 tablespoons of Grand Marnier, or to taste. I think I'll stick with 1 tablespoon this time so flames don't shoot out of my kids' ears ...it's pretty potent stuff but I think it makes the fondue special. Try other liqueur flavors if you're not an orange fan or a little vanilla and grated orange zest if you choose to go booze-free.

Pour the mixture into your fondue pot and place over a low flame to keep warm. Or, if you don't have a fondue pot or are too lazy to get it out of the attic (that would be me), serve it out of the pot or spoon it into a pre-warmed bowl. Reheat it if necessary but it'll probably go so fast you won't need to.

Serve with your favorite dipping stuff. Here are some ideas: cubed firm pound cake, cubed Rice Krispy treats, pineapple, strawberries, bananas, sliced pears, sliced apples, marshmallows, pretzels, dried fruit...

Chocolate Fondue

Heat:

• 1/2 cup of cream

Stir in until smooth:

• 8 ounces of chopped chocolate (I use bittersweet).

Add in:

• 1-3 Tablespoons Grand Marnier

Spoon into fondue pot over low flame and serve with your favorite dipping treats.

Serves: 4-6

Gobbled up...

Every year, about this time, I'm reminded why turkey is such a big deal come November.


If you're like me, you anticipate that unmistakable rich and smokey smell that will permeate the house all Thanksgiving day and before you've even had your first bite of bird, you'll eagerly anticipate the mile-high turkey sandwich, complete with all the fixins', that will be Friday's architectural masterpiece.


But, every year, about this time, I am also reminded why it takes me almost twelve months to invite my fat feathered friend back into the house as welcomed guest.


This year, it all started Thanksgiving evening with a lovely meal hosted by Alice and Ole (Charlie's Mom and Dad) at Meadow Club. It was spectacular...and what a treat not to have to cook this year...at least I thought. Well, I hadn't even had my first bite of professionally prepared pecan pie and I was already hankering for some homespun leftovers. So, as I chewed, I plotted...I'll cook another Thanksgiving at home on Saturday and invite some of my family that I didn't get to gorge with that day. The die was cast...

Saturday was fabulous, more bird, more stuffing (I tried a new recipe with toasted sourdough bread, roasted chestnuts and prunes this year that was crazy good) and all of the other usual suspects. Carly helped with everything, as usual, and Willy even had a hand in the feast scrubbing a couple of potatoes and snapping a few green beans.

When he tired of that, Carly kept him busy making these place cards (an idea I yanked out of Family Fun Magazine years ago...back when I thought I'd actually have time for stuff like this). Man...it's grand having a 14-year-old daughter!

Everyone left fat and happy and ladened with several Ziplocs filled with enough leftovers to fulfill their sandwich dreams. Even after all that, enough meat survived to turn the following week into a turkeyfest: turkey sandwiches, turkey and barley soup, turkey enchiladas, turkey tetrazinni...we were more stuffed than the bird herself.

Oh, I forgot! The day before Thanksgiving, Carly's 8th grade class (with the help of me and a few other moms) made Thanksgiving dinner for the residents of a local old folks home. More turkey, stuffing, green beans, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, gravy and pumpkin pie...all from scratch. The kids were awesome and so was the feast!

If that wasn't enough, Greg and Judy had their annual Christmas kick-off party the next weekend complete with their traditional, and much anticipated, barbecued turkey. It was spectacular, as it is every year, but I must say, after that weekend, my goose (I mean turkey) was officially cooked.


Christmas followed, and with it 33 pounds of prime rib that I cooked to serve 26 people including a baby and two vegetarians. You do the math...that's lots of leftover cooked cow.

For one week solid we fed off of the giant vat of prime rib minestrone I made from the bronto ribs not to mention prime rib french dip and plain old slabs of prime rib eaten a la Fred Flintstone. Enough with the meat already...

So, one afternoon, in desperation, I wandered out to my neglected garden to see if there was a hint of anything fresh, green, edible and/or not formerly mooing or gobbling. Here's what I found...

Humm....looks a little more like Sarah Connor's post-apocalyptic dream scene from Terminator II than the luscious bounty of green-grocery I was hoping for. Then, just when I was about to slump back into the house in defeat to gnaw on a bone, I saw this little patch of green in the upper planting bed...a surviving mini crop of arugula!

I yanked a handful out by the roots and, on my way back into the house, caught a glimpse of this little beauty, rising like a phoenix from the ashes of my pitiful little Meyer lemon tree.

What to do? Arugula, lemon...I've got some left over champagne in the fridge from Christmas...probably too flat to drink but...I'm thinking risotto. Yah...champagne risotto with Meyer lemon and arugula. Where's the beef? Not here. I'm in.

The secret to risotto is low and slow. Watch the onions and garlic...don't let them scorch. Then, pour in the rice.

Here's how the rice will look when it's almost done. Creamy, not globby, tender but with a little bite...not too mushy. Now you can add the rest of the ingredients.

I added a Parmesan crisp for garnish and I'm glad I did...I crumbled it over the top and the crunch was great.

Champagne Risotto with

Meyer Lemon and Arugula

Blanch in simmering water and mince to make 1/8 tsp.:

• several large strips of lemon zest

Heat in a saucepan:

• 3/4 cup leftover champagne
• 2-2 1/2 cups chicken stock

Cook over moderately low heat until soft:

• 2 Tbsp. olive oil
• 1/4 cup minced onion

Add and stir until it smells great:

• 1 large garlic clove minced and mashed to a paste with 1/4 tsp salt
  

Add and stir to coat:

• 3/4 cups arborio rice (available at most markets)
  

Add:

• 1 Tbs. fresh Meyer lemon juice
  

Add enough warm champagne/stock mixture to just cover and stir until absorbed. Keep adding liquid slowly, enough to just cover the rice, until all of the liquid is absorbed and the rice is creamy, tender but not mushy (it should have a little bite to it). Let each addition absorb before adding the next, stir frequently, and use more stock if you must to achieve the correct consistency. Remember, low and slow, baby.

Now add:

• 3 Tbs. butter (I said no meat, not lowfat)!
• 1/3 cups grated Parmesan cheese
• 1/2 - 3/4 cup chopped arugula
• salt and pepper to taste
  

Sprinkle with shredded or grated Parmesan cheese.

If you would like to make the Parmesan crisp, mound 1 Tbs. of shredded Parmesan per crisp on a non-stick surface (Silpat or parchment). Bake at 350 degrees until crispy (about 8 minutes).

Makes 4-6 servings as a first course.