Having recently returned from southern Spain where we enjoyed an other-wordly gastronomic experience, it was a treat back home to be able to dine at the nearby authentic Spanish restaurant, Vida & Comida (literal translation is Life and Food). Not long ago, our friends Paula and Mike Graham  enjoyed a fantastic meal there and knew it would be right up our alley.

Chef/owner Manuel J. grew up on a big farm in Spain. He moved with his brother to Switzerland where they both attended culinary school and eventually became executive chefs; Manuel then moved to America in 1979. He opened Vida & Comida in the center of Ambler in the Spring of 2017, and recently announced a new executive chef, Chef Abde Dahrouch, above right. Both chefs integrated their expertise to create a menu that is modern, yet accented with classical style.

But before dining at V&C, we got the party started at the Graham’s lovely home. Russ just couldn’t fathom making anything other than an authentic Spanish appetizer—and it had to be transportable for the 20+ minute car ride. Therefore he made these super-simple, but none-the-less super-tasty Manchego Cheese Canapés with Olives and Piquillo Peppers (shown above with recipe at this link.) And Paula made a beautifully arranged platter of cheeses, olives, peppers and mini toasts.

Lucky for us Vida & Comida is a BYOB, and we just happened to have brought back a Viña Albali Gran Reserva—a red wine from Valdepeñas with the best tempranillo grapes of 2011—from our trip to the mother country. A tasteful segue to begin the meal.

V&C’s carefully planned menu contains 10 mouth-watering appetizers, a couple of soups, 4 salads, 7 seafood options, and 6 meat entrées that include chicken, beef, pork, lamb and veal; not to mention nightly specials. Surprisingly, they also offer a traditional seafood Paella to-go; which is, by far, their most popular, and most talked about, dish.

Not only did we have the same mindset when making our appetizers, both couples actually ordered the very same thing from our starters, to the entrées, and even dessert!

Gambas al Ajillo—Famous Spanish, tapas style wild, Gulf shrimp sautéed with garlic and extra virgin olive oil. Russ has made this fantastic appetizer on occasion for company at home, on a much bigger scale of course. It is a hit every time, and you want to make sure to include crusty bread to mop up the leftover garlicky olive oil.

Corvina—Seared corvina with jumbo crab, corn ragout, grilled asparagus, and truffle oil. Paula and I were on the same page when it came to choosing this entrée. The perfectly cooked piece of fish came floating in a luscious pool of lump crab meat and sweet corn with just the right amount of truffle oil to pull it all together. The topping of grilled asparagus stalks added a nice pop of color and a pleasant toothy texture. Simply mahvelous dahling!

Interesting Tidbit: Corvina, a firm white fish similar to sea bass, is a general name for a bevy of fish found in many different parts of the world. They belong to the scaienidae family, which is better known as “drums or croakers.” Drum fish and croaker fish are differentiated by whether they produce a drumming sound or a croaking sound when they pop their heads above the water.

The men both went for the Medallones de Ternera Salteados con Jamón Serrano, Salvia y Vino Blanco, a riff on the Italian dish Veal Saltimboca. Three large sautéed veal medallions are suffused in a velvety white wine sauce with Serrano ham, sage and a medley of crisp-tender veggies, then topped with a bit of microgreens. Did they love it? You betcha!

Even though I’m not a dessert person, it didn’t stop the other three from indulging in some authentic Flan artfully plated in a large swath of melting caramel and topped with real whipped cream, fresh blueberries and a raspberry drizzle. Now totally satiated, not one of us had any leftovers this time around!

What a pleasant way to spend an evening which reminded us of our recent trip to Spain.

This Sicilian classic, made with sautéed eggplant, tomatoes, basil, and red pepper
flakes, is Italian comfort food at its best—it really embodies the flavors of the island.

A tasty and colorful recipe from the Sicilian gastronomic tradition, Pasta alla Norma is a triumph of Mediterranean flavors and was so called in honor of Vincenzo Bellini’s opera “Norma”. The story says that in 19th century, Nino Martoglio, a Sicilian writer, poet and theater director, was so impressed when he first tasted this dish that he compared it to “Norma”, Bellini’s masterpiece. And the name lasted ever since.

Traditionally, I believe that penne was the pasta of choice, but here, we’re using a more healthy whole wheat fettuccini. Choosing pasta is no longer just about the size and shape. Whether it’s fettuccini, rigatoni or good ol’ spaghetti, white versus wheat is the latest supermarket quandary. While the stripped-down white stuff boasts a longer shelf life, not to mention a cheaper price tag, it’s considered nutritionally weaker.

It may take some getting used to, but in many pasta dishes we prefer its strong, nuttier flavor and more grainy consistency. With the right sauce or topping, adding whole wheat pasta is an easy way to enjoy a healthy meal and sneak those whole grains into the menu.

We were leaving for a two-week vacation a few days hence, so we made a concentrated effort to use up any foods that might spoil while we’d be away. Eyeballing a small piece of fresh mozzarella in the fridge, I cut that into small chunks and tossed it in when mixing everything together. We didn’t have ricotta, and I wasn’t about to buy any when all we needed was a few dollops, so I grated up our chunk of Grana Padano.

Note my optional comment in Step 1 concerning removal of excess moisture from the eggplant. The original recipe did not include this notation, but I find that eggplant is less mushy if you follow this process. And in the end, the amount of kick you add with the red pepper flakes is certainly a personal preference… you know my take on that…

Mangiamo!

Adapted from a recipe by Lisa Lahey from Fine Cooking

You probably already know that you’re supposed to be eating fish twice a week. Fish are a lean, healthy source of protein. Keep in mind, mercury poisoning is still a concern when it comes to fish consumption, but there are ways to mitigate this risk. Because of high mercury levels in swordfish, limit consumption to once a week or less (I would go with the less concept)—and not at all if you’re pregnant. The FDA recommends only one 7-ounce helping per week of large fish, such as shark and swordfish.

If the weather is not cooperating outdoors, use an indoor grill pan to get similar results.

But, swordfish also offers many health benefits, especially for people who are following low-carbohydrate, high-protein diets. It has no carbohydrates and contains essential amino acids and omega-3 fatty acids. It contains a significant amount of fat—the majority of that fat consists of heart-healthy mono- and polyunsaturated fats. These fats aid in lowering cholesterol and the risk of coronary artery disease.

Delicate and light, this cucumber sauce has a loose texture that’s somewhere between a vinaigrette and a salad. It complements most any grilled fish, so feel free to substitute salmon, tuna or halibut steaks for the swordfish.

Along with the fish, more heart-healthy ingredients appear in the cucumber sauce and the couscous tabbouleh. To intensify the flavors of the couscous, I used homemade shellfish stock instead of water. And it seemed that 2 cups of parsley was overkill, so I incorporated only about 1/2 bunch and that seemed to be a good balance. Finally, since we had lots of sweet cherry tomatoes on the vine, I picked those for the tabbouleh instead of buying plum tomatoes.

Add in a side salad and you’ve got a healthy superstar meal!

Couscous Tabbouleh

With fresh lemon and plenty of herbs like mint and parsley, the tabbouleh is a wonderful complement to the fish.

Both recipes are from Fine Cooking

What better way to get to know a new area than investigating it with a knowledgeable guide? And while we had a more typical tour planned for Granada, Spain the following day, on our first evening we had prescheduled a walking tapas tour. (Tapa is Spanish for a hot or cold appetizer or snack.) Our tour was set to begin at 8 p.m. and we were to meet the others at a nearby church. Easier said than done.

In these ancient cities, the roads are a bit convoluted with cobblestone streets, narrow passage ways, and steep inclines, to put it mildly. Well, suffice it to say, we couldn’t find the original meeting spot, but Russ recognized the first taverna, La Tabernilla del Darro, as we were scouting out the back streets. The place is an old water tank reconditioned and integrated into the typical buildings located on the banks of the Darro River.

We had no idea what our guide looked like, although we knew she was female and named Antonia working for a company called Devour Tours. For about 10-15 minutes we scrutinized everyone walking by—and the streets were packed with pedestrians and taxis due to the fact that a major parade was happening in town the following day. Eagle-eyed Russ finally noted a woman decked out in an white polka-dotted orange dress talking with 4 other tourists, and simply wrangled his way in and started speaking to her in Spanish. Later on, Antonia told us she thought he was some rude Spanish local trying to get in on the action!

What we learned was, in a culture almost unique to this city, bars and eateries around town serve tapas to patrons at no cost, whenever they order a drink! With every drink comes a different tapa, often more substantial than the one before, and several rounds of drinks means a full meal can be had—the only cost being the couple of euros paid for every glass of wine (or other libation.)

FYI, if you sit at a bar anywhere in town and ask for a tapas menu to order from, it’s a surefire sign that you’re a tourist because Granadians would never to think to pay for them. An interesting concept, though I doubt it would take a stronghold here in the U.S.

Our first drink in the grotto-like interior of La Tabernilla was an amber-colored, slightly sweet vermouth on ice, not my usual cup of tea, but I was game to try anything. While Antonia regaled us with the bar’s history, the group exchanged names as well as our points of origin. Two retired school teachers from Sydney, Australia—Karen and Sue (above left)—were in the middle of a 5-week extensive vacation to several countries that was to include a one-week cruise. Another couple, Gypsy and Don, hailed from Madison, Wisconsin.

Antonia herself was born in a cave-house in the Sacramonte district on the hill and valley of Valparaís just outside the city limits before moving into the town’s center as a baby. As an adult, she has lived in several countries, is fluent in five languages, and is currently tackling Chinese.

With our vermouth came the first tapa, a Requeté served on two plates with three forks each, which we were to split amongst ourselves. (As a guide, Antonia neither eats nor drinks.) Three breadsticks were erected in a mound of flaky tuna and piquillo peppers doused in a piquant mixture of sherry and extra virgin olive oil. Then, before most of us could even finish our drinks, it was time to hop off of the stools and head to our next destination, a not-too-short walk away.

Hiding in an abbreviated alleyway off Plaza Nueva, Bar Casa Julio has some of the most unpredictable opening hours in Granada, if they even open! The inside resembles a kiosk more than a bar, so most patrons stand around the four or five tall circular tables in the alleyway outside, as did we. Along with our sangria-like drink, the “summer wine” is a mix of red wine and lemon soda (which I again couldn’t finish in time), we were served two plates (with the allotted 3 forks each) of the tastiest fried fish I’ve ever eaten, crispy on the outside and succulent on the inside.

Don, Gypsy, Karen, Sue, Lynn and Russ salute the camera outside of Casa Julio.

Time to meander down several more streets and alleyways to our next stop, La Botilleria. Since opening in 2013, La Botillería has established a fine local reputation thanks to its elegantly presented food and thoughtful wine list. It’s smart in a modern, casual way, with a bar area for tapas and a back restaurant where you can enjoy full meals. In fact, Russ and I liked it so much, we went back there for dinner the following day.

While our waitress poured glasses of a crisp white wine and gave us olives to nibble on, Antonia let us know we would be served two different tapas and two glasses of wine. First arriving was the incredible Carrillada Tapa, chunks of succulent pork cheeks bathing in a tasty sauce plated with crispy potatoes fried in EVOO and a few thick slices of crusty white bread.

Next was another glass of chilled white wine and a delicate cod tapa topped with a tomato sauce and a side salad with more crusty bread chunks. Here we seemed to linger a bit longer…

The tour concluded a few streets away at our fourth and final destination, rustic La Tana. Somehow Antonia managed to squeeze us all into the space between the crowded bar and few sparse tables lining the wall. But feeling claustrophobic, without even elbow room to spare, we spilled back out onto the street. As it was the end of the “meal,” sweet Baileys Irish Cream liqueur, along with a cannoli-like dessert tapa were offered. Sweet is not my thing, so I sipped a glass of dry red wine instead.

Without even small bistro tables onto which we could rest our cocktails, it was quite a balancing act to sip and eat at the same time. There just so happened to be a window ledge on the building across the street where some of us placed our stemware. Mind you, we never had individual plates at any of the bars, we just used forks, fingers and napkins.

At this point it was nearing 10:30 at night and it was time to meander back to our separate accommodations. Russ and I were pleasantly surprised when we realized that our hotel was only a brief jaunt away—although a longer trek would have helped burn up some of those calories…

TAPAS: The origin of the term, is uncertain, with countless stories as to how and when the practice came about.

One such tale has it that under the monarchy of Fernando el Católico, it became obligatory for bar owners to serve food with alcohol as a response to an increasingly drunken workforce. As a result, patrons can now order a drink and be provided with a plate of something tasty to sop up the alcohol. Though the practice may be fading in certain parts of Spain, any visitor looking to eat tapas in Granada will quickly discover the tradition is still alive and kicking.

How do you get to be our age and have never heard of a Sweet Dumpling squash before? Can’t answer that, but I do know that when we recently eyeballed some at the supermarket, we didn’t hesitate to purchase one.

Dumpling squash, botanically classified as Cucurbita pepo, grows on short trailing vines and is a member of the Cucurbitaceae family along with gourds and pumpkins. Also known as Sweet Dumpling squash, it has a striking exterior similar in appearance to the delicata and sugar loaf and is known for its unique appearance and size.

What’s ironic is, we had some “bonus” plants growing in our yard this summer, most likely from seeds in our compost. My plant identifier App “PlantSnap” established it as a Cucurbita pepo! The vines got ridiculously long and grew some beautiful yellow hibiscus-like flowers, but never produced the fruit.

Our “bonus” Cucurbita pepo vine got to be 5 times this length and was taking over the patio!

Hibiscus-like flowers from the Cucurbita pepo vine.

Of course there are as many recipes, as there are types of squash, so without getting too complicated, I wanted to make a simple roasted squash recipe with comfort-food qualities reminiscent of Autumn. After all, the new season just got under way and the weather cooled down. When cooked, Sweet Dumpling is smooth-textured, light, and tender with a sweet, mild flavor—just the ticket to complement our grilled lamb chops.

It is best suited for cooked applications such as roasting, sautéing, baking, and steaming and it can be used in both sweet and savory preparations. Its lumpy exterior and small size make it difficult to peel and are most often cooked with their skin on. But to me that’s the beauty of it—the shell creates a natural decorative bowl in which to serve it.

Tastewise, the squash is like, if a sweet potato, butternut squash and acorn squash had a flavor baby, it would be the Dumpling. It’s a little sweet and full of flavor. The texture is almost like a sweet potato – more dense and not as stringy as an acorn squash. So I used a similar approach to cooking it as I do when I roast acorn squash.

All at once with this recipe, each bite is sweet, savory and salty. Now that Sweet Dumpling squash is on our radar, it’ll be a more frequent guest at our dinner table.

Hosting a small dinner party was on our horizon, but due to a mix-up, we couldn’t remember if we had charged ourselves with making an additional appetizer. (Senior moment setting in.) Our motto is better to have too much than too little—when it comes to serving company anyway. We were a few days shy of our departure to Spain, so hubby thought to get us in the mood, he’d make something Spanish.

It had to be easy and not contain a long list of ingredients, so Champinoñes Rellenos de Jamón fit the bill perfectly. Rich and salty Serrano ham is combined with finely chopped mushrooms, parsley and bread crumbs for a tasty filling. After heating them, just stuff the mushroom caps and bake for a short while and serve hot. Sit back, have a sip of wine, and enjoy your company….

Muy buena!

Not surprisingly the historic Black Horse Tavern on State Street in Newtown closed—it was about time! Mishaps occurred on our last two visits—one incident involved spilling an entire glass of red wine on Russ. Red flag number one. But accidents happen, right?

Red flag number two occurred on our follow up visit as we sat starving and waited over an hour for our dinner to arrive. To everyone’s shocked dismay, the chef came out of the kitchen and started break dancing in the dining room, kid you not! To appease the disgruntled diners, they plied us with several glasses of free wine. (I think the chef plied himself with several free glasses too.) Neither scenario left us wanting to return for more. And online comments from other patrons left similar scathing reviews.

Luckily, in late August of this year, it opened under new ownership as the Thyme Bar & Grill, and we were game to try it out. Their menu includes lunch and pub fare with crab towers, ahi tuna, lobster roll, duck quesadillas, as well as burgers, truffle fries and wings; while dinner options range from jambalaya, sea scallops and rack of lamb, to king crab cakes and pork chops.

We were seated at a two-top next to a wall in the crowded upstairs dining room. It had been redecorated in soft gray tones with gauze fabric and tiny lights undulating through the rafters. The old stone fireplace prevailed and remains a focal point along with a large gilded mirror on the back wall.

The waitstaff was very attentive, although you could tell they were still smoothing out the kinks toward becoming a well-oiled machine. Our chosen bottle of red wine was not in stock, but we were given an upgrade to a pricier selection—a nice touch indeed.

For starters we enjoyed one of three choices of Flat Breads. Ours came topped with Boursin cheese, baby arugula, garbanzo beans and Kalamata olives. I must admit, I was a bit concerned about chickpeas on my flatbread, but it was very good; and the arugula added a nice peppery bite. Our one criticism would be the bread itself was slightly thicker than we prefer.

Luckily, there was no lapse in service under the new ownership. Our entrées arrived shortly after consuming our appetizer. Russ loved his perfectly cooked to medium-rare Twin Filets topped with sautéed greens and crispy herbed potato croquettes, resting on a bed of their silky house steak sauce.

I was in a seafood mood and finally settled on their Seared Sea Scallops that came plated floating on a puddle of creamed sweet corn, tomato jam and braised greens. While it may not seem like a whole lot, I was pretty full from the flatbread and took half of my meal home—which made for a perfect reheated lunch a few days later.

This “Thyme” the dinner was a winner!

The history of fajitas is short, flavor is not. Most folks aren’t hell-bent on pondering the origin of the foods they like, but I occasionally like to go back and figure out how they came into being. The word “fajita,” as a reference to a particular food, didn’t even appear in print until 1975, about the time I became obsessed with Mexican cuisine. Yet, within a decade, it had become the hottest food craze in the country.

BTW, the word derives from the Spanish “faja,” for “girdle” or “strip”—thus the less desirable cut of meat. Technically, only beef has a fajita, but over the years, the term has been corrupted to mean any kind of meat or seafood wrapped in a tortilla. Its popularity lies in the fact that it’s a delectable combination of flavors and textures, and can be assembled with such ease.

Yes, you can buy the prepackaged stuff, but if you make homemade seasoning, not only does it taste really good, it’s cheaper than buying pack after pack of store-bought, lasts for ages and is full of only what you put in there—herbs and spices!

It’s really impressive if you have a fajita skillet that you can bring to the table sizzling hot. Although we pretty much have every other cooking vehicle, that is one we lack. But don’t fret, it’s just as easy to make them in a cast-iron skillet—and the fajitas taste just as amazing; and they are in actual fact, very healthy.

The most important thing when making fajitas is the marinade. This not only makes the ingredients incredibly tender, but also full of flavor. If you are feeling really adventurous, go ahead and make a side of Bobby Flay’s Avocado Crema. It adds a cool soothing note to the spicy fajita marinade. Recipe follows at the end.

We happened to have some already grill-charred long hot green peppers. I slit them in half, removed the seeds and stems, chopped them up and added them to the skillet at the end—they provided a nice little kick. If your meat seems a little too rare when you slice it, don’t worry, it will cook a bit more in the last stages when you add it back to the skillet with the peppers and onions.

Juicy grilled pork chops make a perfect, quick meal and dry rubs are a terrific way to season them. Be sure to select chops of close to an inch in thickness—nothing flimsy—then grill them over steady, medium heat.

Opt for rib chops over the center-cut variety when cooking outdoors because their greater fat content helps keep them moist, and bone-in chops are preferred for their juiciness. You could add a barbecue sauce on the side, but we relish their crispy surface unvarnished.

I must confess, the pork chops I purchased were over 2″ thick!! My choice at the supermarket was either boneless chops—which I wasn’t looking for in this case—or very thin bone-in chops, which I knew would dry out. Obviously, cooking times need to be lengthened to accommodate the extra thick meat, but the directions below cater to a 1″ thickness.

In order to get the desired cross marks and a perfect doneness, sear over direct heat on both sides, then move the chops to the indirect heat side of the grill until they reach 135°. Carryover cooking will cause the temperature to continue rising after being removed from the heat source, so knowing when to pull the pork chops off the grill is critical. Pull from the grill and allow to rest on a cutting board, tented with foil, for about 5-10 minutes. Spot check the internal temperature after about 5 minutes to be sure you’re at, or almost at the target temp of 145°F.

Alas, the best laid plans… due to an emergency, I had to freeze the already seasoned chops until two weeks later. And it was raining the evening we actually had them for dinner, so I used another sure-fire method to cook the chops. Just sear both sides on high heat in a carbon steel or cast iron skillet. Then put the skillet directly into a 400° oven until they reach 135°. Tent with foil for five minutes to let the juices redistribute, and voila, juicy pork chops!

As I mentioned, our two-chops-in-one were over 2″ thick, so they took nearly 20 minutes in the oven to come to temp. But they came out with a perfect light pink interior and crispy exterior. Our sides of crispy/creamy baby roasted potatoes and savory, tender kale completed the meal. Not surprisingly, we had a lot of leftover pork which, when sliced down, came in handy for lunches and munchies…

Recipe adapted from Cheryl and Bill Jamison, found on Epicuious

Corn season is on the wane here in the Northeast, but while you still can, make sure to try the following creamy and tangy recipe. This Mexican Corn Salad from Cook’s Illustrated features charred kernels whose nutty, slightly bitter flavor complements corn’s natural sweetness. It was a perfect companion to our main entrée of Grilled Cedar-Planked Salmon with Lemon Thyme Rub.

The corn is dressed with a mixture of sour cream, a touch of mayonnaise and some lime juice. Chopped cilantro and spicy serrano chiles add bright colors and fresh flavors. A half dozen ears of corn yields enough for 6 to 8 guests, but if you have any leftover, it’s still very good when reheated slightly.

Cotija is a Hispanic-style cheese named after the town of Cotija in the Mexican state of Michoacán. This hard, crumbly Mexican cheese is made mainly from cow’s milk, and is white, fresh and salty thus bearing an immense resemblance to feta cheese, which would make a suitable substitution. However, with aging it becomes hard and crumbly like Parmigiano-Reggiano.

We served our corn salad at an outdoor BBQ along with Cedar-Planked Salmon with Lemon Thyme Rub.

Has to be one of the top three BEST steaks I’ve EVER eaten! And to think I was a bit concerned when I saw it was basted with fish sauce. But then I started thinking fish sauce is umami, which pairs beautifully with steak. (Curiously, the Italian word bistecca is actually borrowed from the English “beef steak.”)

When it comes to the meat, it’s best to order a 1-1/2- to 2-inch-thick porterhouse that weighs in at 2 1/2 to 3 pounds a piece (figure about 3/4 lbs. per person). But the thickest I could get my hands on was 1 1/2″ thick and weighed in at 1.6 pounds. With that knowledge, I chopped off a few minutes in the grilling process to make sure it wasn’t overcooked. Ended up being the perfect amount for the two of us.

Porterhouse is the best cut (and usually the most pricey); failing that a T-Bone, and failing that, a strip steak. Absolute purists say that the T-bone should have filet on one side, and sirloin on the other. One piece of meat is expected to be shared between two and four diners—depending on how much it weighs. You’d be wise to contact your local butcher and ask to have the meat cut and weighed to your exact specifications ahead of time.

The meat should sit out of the refrigerator for at least an hour before starting. Okay, that being said, here’s another takeaway on resting steak at room temperature: Don’t bother. Rather, dry them very thoroughly on paper towels before searing. Or better yet, salt them and let them rest uncovered on a rack in the fridge for a night or two, so that their surface moisture can evaporate. You’ll get much more efficient browning that way.

I’ve also read when cooking thick steaks, start them on the cooler side of the grill and cook with the lid on until they reach about ten degrees below final serving temperature. Finish them off on the hot side of the grill for a great crust. Just the opposite of what this recipe calls for. I’ll leave you to have those arguments with yourself… I followed the recipe as listed below, and our steak was heavenly!

The 20 minute resting time is an excruciating waiting period because it smells absolutely divine; so let’s face it, we had to “taste-test” by dipping our pinky into the juices. This caused an automatic reaction of grumbling stomachs and salivating tastebuds. When it’s finally time to cut the meat off the bone, you are practically ravenous. But gather yourself together enough to slice those slabs against the grain and divvy up amongst the dinner plates. It’s probably a wise idea to have some crusty bread on hand for mopping up any stray juices, it’s just that good!

Along with some grilled long hot green peppers, I made an herby side salad of sweet multi-color cherry tomatoes freshly picked from the garden, and seasoned with oregano, minced shallot, olive oil, red wine vinegar and salt and pepper.

There’s only one 100% reliable way that I know of to guarantee that your meat will be perfectly cooked every single time, and that’s by using an accurate instant-read thermometer like the Thermapen by Thermoworks.

They can be a little pricey, but you will quickly make that money back by never overcooking another piece of expensive meat again, no matter how big it is, how fatty it is, or how many beverages you might have indulged in beforehand. In true Tuscan fashion, the steak should be eaten rare, but these directions are for medium-rare (125°)—just don’t go any more well done than that. Be prepared to oooh and aaah throughout the meal…

Bistecca recipe by Ignacio Mattos found on Epicurious.com

Autumn was right around the corner, and it was a beautiful and warm evening when we hosted an end-of-summer, al fresco BBQ. The party started with some appetizers on the patio, namely the simple-yet-elegant Gambas al Ajillo in a cazuela, compliments of Russ. The other two appetizers arrived via Rosanne. The Pea Pesto Crostini (recipe courtesy of Giada De Laurentiis) not only was gorgeous to look at, but tasted great! And her yummy little skewers were a mix of spicy sausage, and sweet for those with a more delicate palette.

A sliced baguette is a must with this sizzling garlic shrimp dish to mop up all of the luscious EVOO.

One of the guests was originally going to bring dessert, but the couple had to back out so Russ did a little online investigating and found this Lemon Posset with Berries on the Cook’s Illustrated website (recipe follows). The description of a silky, rich British dessert with bright citrus flavor caught his attention. The fact that there were only four ingredients made it that much more appealing.

Wendy and Rosanne keep me company in the kitchen as I prepare the Mexican corn dish.

According to Wikipedia: A posset (also historically spelled poshote, poshotte) was originally a popular British hot drink made of milk curdled with wine or ale, often spiced, which was often used as a remedy. In the 16th century the drink evolved into a cream, sugar and citrus-based confection, which is still consumed today as a cold set dessert—somewhat like a cross between custard and pudding.

Add a small shortbread cookie on the side for some crunch factor.

Using just the right proportions of sugar and lemon juice is the key to custard with a smooth, luxurious consistency and a bright enough flavor to balance the richness of the cream. Pairing the dessert with fresh berries for textural contrast helps keep it from feeling overly rich. One reviewer commented he added a pinch of Moroccan mint and a star anise pod, claiming the subtleties were delicious and totally complimentary to the lemon—although we did not include those touches.

Zesting and juicing the lemons for the posset.

Before dessert however, we enjoyed a main course of Cedar-Planked Salmon with Lemon Pepper Rub, Mexican Corn and Wendy’s cheerful tossed salad brimming with lots of healthy ingredients and containing almost every color in the rainbow.

A side of horseradish chive sauce is served with the salmon.

Footnote: We made another Posset the following weekend for more company. It was lime-based and topped with fresh raspberries, shown below.

There is no need to wax poetic on the benefits of kale, because there has been so much good press on the power-veggie over the last few years, you’d have to be a hermit not to be aware.

One night for dinner, to go along with my extra-thick, spicy pork chops, I wanted a simple side recipe for kale. A version of this one popped up on NYT Cooking website by Sam Sifton. I made several adaptations however, and they are incorporated into the recipe below. Sam said this is a technique that elevates basic sautéed greens into something even more savory and tender, so I was game to try.

No need to toss the kale stems, just chop them up along with the leaves and sauté them as well. The NYT recipe called for red-wine vinegar, but I substituted an aged tangerine balsamic vinegar (other options are lemon or orange juice.)

As far as the olive oil, a 1/4 cup seemed a bit excessive for one bunch of the greens, so I reduced it to 2 tablespoons; I upped the number of garlic cloves slightly, and included one minced shallot. My burners tend to run very hot, so I adjusted the setting from high heat to medium to prevent burning, which I noted in the directions bellow.

It made a great side dish for the Spice-Rubbed Grilled Pork Chop dinner.

Four days after Labor Day, my longtime friend Merry Sue (MS) and her “seestah” Susan (maiden name Fritz) and I made a road trip to Cape Cod. Susan owns a house in Orleans, MASS and needed to address a few things up there, so Merry Sue and I decided to tag along for a girl’s weekend. (The title of this blog was inspired by a passenger’s T-shirt graphic on our ferry ride to Martha’s Vineyard.)

Doing some shopping at the Artist’s Shanties after buying our Hy-Line Ferry tickets in Hyannis. And yes, those are purple sandals I have on, and purple sunglasses, pocketbook, nail polish…

Wicked Pissah is a slang phrase in the New England area; perhaps most frequently heard in Boston, and used as an adjective to describe something totally cool or awesome—like our trip. However; the phrase can be used in the sarcastic sense too. Wicked Pissah is also a New England Style IPA, described as cloudy with a thick white head, strong tropical fruit aroma with notes of pineapple, citrus fruit and mango—although we didn’t indulge in any.

Anyway, being a food blog and all, I’m going to mention a few highlights and lowlights from our culinary adventure, starting on the day we arrived for lunch at Yardarm, a local spot for many since 1972. Now if you’re a local, and not a wash-ashore like us, it would be pronounced “yahd-ahm.” The place was packed for a Friday afternoon off-season, but we didn’t have to wait long for a table.

Kind of like the “Cheers” of Orleans… “every town has one, that neighborhood gathering place where friends meet for a drink, some conversation and conviviality, where upon entry, you are greeted with a smile and a thanks for coming; and where, when you get hungry, a table is waiting, and the food is home cooked as is the service.”

Local color abounds, from fishermen to physicians, tradesmen to tourists, all rubbing elbows at the bar and extending conversation from table to table while the Red Sox or the Patriots appear on their many TVs.

Being on the Cape, the Fritz sisters (above, MS on the left, Susan on the right) both yearned to try their Clam Chowder; and while I will indulge at times, clams are not one of my faves, so I ordered their Chili Con Carne with Cheese, which I luv-luv-loved! Susan got a cuppa chowdah with a side of coleslaw (which she did not like at all); Merry Sue got the bowlful, both sizes came with a packet of oyster crackers.

Apparently, Susan was told by her daughter-in-law—who worked for years as a waitress on the Cape—that all restaurants get the same chowder base and therefore every eating establishment basically serves the same thing. MS and I found that hard to believe, but if it’s the case, I’m hypothesizing that they at least doctor it up with additional ingredients to put their own stamp on it. Anyone know for sure?

After Yardarm we went grocery shopping to purchase breakfast, lunch and snack items because we didn’t intend on eating out for every meal. Plus we all brought along some vittles, like the ingredients to make my famous guacamole, which you can make yourself following the recipe at the end of this blog.

Our first dinner out was at the Barley Neck Inn, a small independently owned resort based in an old sea captain’s 1868 home in the rural village of Orleans in the elbow of Cape Cod. Even though it was the Saturday after Labor Day, MS and I thought it prudent to make reservations. Thank goodness we did because it was packed when we got there and they were turning people away, or they had at least an hours wait—and it was already going on 8 p.m.

With glasses of wine ordered from our friendly waitress with an obvious accent (she was from London), we scanned the menus and munched on the crusty bread served with a spiced olive oil.

Figuring appetizers would be too much, we went right for the entrées and Merry Sue chose from the Special Additions Menu and ordered the Day Boat Cod topped with lemon-thyme crumbs resting on a lemon butter sauce, served with sides of rice pilaf and tender asparagus stalks. No complaints from her.

Susan and I both had a hankering for the Grilled Boneless Salmon Steak with a Marseille butter sauce, steamed broccoli and the same rice pilaf. The bright magenta orchid blooms were an attractive touch to each serving. We just about licked our plates clean, except for Susan’s carrot medallions, a veggie she doesn’t care for unless they are very soft.

The following morning we took the Hy-Line ferry from Hyannis to Martha’s Vineyard. After a bit of shopping in Oaks Bluff, we took a bus to Edgartown and ended up for lunch at the quaint Among the Flowers Café. Their outdoor patio (which was packed therefore we had to sit indoors) is nestled under a blue and white awning with views of Edgartown Harbor. Apparently it is a little goldmine because for nearly 40 years they have served fresh, healthy, homemade dishes at reasonable prices and the folks keep piling in.

Our choices included Lynn’s Asian Chopped Salad arriving in an asymmetrical white bowl filled with mixed greens, grilled chicken, Napa cabbage, edamame, red and yellow peppers wasabi peas and lightly tossed with a Thai peanut dressing. It was soooo good, I ate every last morsel!

A chalkboard listed some daily specials, one of which was a Mushroom & Spinach Quiche that Susan ordered. She liked the quiche enough, but had to pick out the raw carrots from the side salad. MS went for the Soup & Salad Combo, choosing New England clam chowder that was served in their signature clay mug. These for-sale colorful mugs and mini bud vases lined all of the windowsills and some counters.

Our other dinner on the town was at Chapin’s in Dennis. We chose that because it was close to the Cape Cinema Theater founded in 1930, and they were featuring The Wife, starring Glenn Close—a great movie BTW. The auditorium is designed in the style of Art Deco and includes 317 individual arm chairs of black lacquer and tangerine suede. American painter and illustrator Rockwell Kent designed the massive 6,400-square-foot mural for the auditorium’s ceiling (below), featuring a colorful representation of the heavens and constellations.

The movie ended at 4:00, and Chapin’s opens at 4:00 which is WAY early for dinner  IMHO, but we considered it a late lunch/early supper meal. And believe it or not, we weren’t the first patrons to arrive on that Monday afternoon. Once seated, we were given multiple menus, one listing the specials which had a Surf N’ Turf option, and included two steak tips and a grilled lobster tail served with a choice of sides.

I hadn’t indulged in lobster since we’d been on the Cape, so my mind was made up. Seems Susan had the same idea. Well, it was a huge disappointment. Problem was, Susan’s steak was overdone as was both of our miniscule lobster tails—not succulent at all. (Must have been leftovers from the weekend.) My steak on the other hand, was a perfect medium-rare and the side of broccoli was cooked just right.

Miss MS chose the Chapin’s Baked Stuffed Cod chock full with seafood stuffing, lobster sauce, Cheddar Jack cheese, chopped bacon and topped with seasoned bread crumbs. My goodness, that was a big portion! She tried her best to finish it, but in the end had to succumb—couldn’t even take a doggie bag because we were leaving for home early the next morning when we’d have to wash back ashore.

Lynn’s Holey Moley Great Guacamole

Tuna Noodle Casserole—Either you loved to HATE it, or you hated to LOVE it, am I right? This homey dish either conjures up warm childhood memories or evokes gagging grumbling groans. In my case, I hated it as a child, but finally started to develop a liking to it when I entered my twenties. (Of course, my limited bank account back then may have had something to do with it.) Then when I got married to my Ex, he pretty much barred any, and all, casseroles as a dinner option. Apparently that was the only meal his previous girlfriend seemed to know how to make.

As you may have well experienced over the years, many tuna-noodle casseroles suffer from overcooked noodles and feature a soggy, bland topping. Here’s a tip: Rinsing the egg noodles after boiling removes any residual starch that would otherwise make the casserole pasty and also halts the cooking process, preventing them from overcooking within the casserole. Finally, adding the fried onion rings as a topping lends a satisfying crunch and great additional flavor in every bite.

A fan or not, Tuna Noodle Casserole dates back to the 1950s when casseroles were a popular dinner item. Originally, this dish was made with non-perishable pantry ingredients as a cheap, wholesome dinner that didn’t require a trip to the store. Yes, you could make the celery soup portion from scratch, but I know pretty much everyone of you don’t, or won’t, do that, so buying a can of the condensed saves a whole host of steps, and probably a portion of your sanity.

I like the fact that there are a fair amount of veggies in the mix with the peas, tomatoes and celery. If you want your casserole on the wetter side, increase the amount of milk slightly and perhaps even add a bit more condensed soup. And if you prefer a browner, crunchier top, leave it in the oven for an extra five minutes, like I did.

BTW, if you have leftovers, add a little milk to your portion before reheating it in the microwave to loosen and moisten it.