Thankful

Several times a year we seem to congregate together to celebrate something or other. The origins of these gatherings have long been drowned in a sea of advertisements, themed gift baskets and cartoon characters, but somehow we managed to retain the sense of warmth and family gathering I have always admired about the holidays.

Living in New York for the past five years, I rarely see my family and look forward to birthdays, thanksgivings and Christmases to have the opportunity to cook together in our pajamas and stuff ourselves with a five course meal. We spend the afternoon cooking, dropping soup laden spoons on the broilers and slipping on renegade cubes of butter and settle around a 1.5ft high coffee table propping ourselves up on throw pillows to enjoy the spoils of our battle with the kitchen.

Long ago, I put a ban on most packaged foods in my kitchen, and since then have barely been able to afford the ingredients that my lavish lifestyle seems to constantly require of me. Perhaps I have developed an alter ego, one who requires that Comté and Morbier accompany every proper meal and scoffs at any jam with more than five ingredients. She's quite a burden, you see, and it is indeed a blessing when my parents arrive with logs of fillet mignon and balls of Mozzarella di Buffalo and bags filled with florets of cauliflower and haricot vert. That alter ego of mine can finish her pouting over our roasted chicken and ratatouille diet (where really, what sensible girl can complain of rosemary buttered chicken and fresh vegetable ratatouille?) and return to her epic planning of the perfect French fête. To explain the image above, I imagine my alter ego wearing a 1930's feather hat and lace dresses as she prepares her gateaux, I am sure you won't oppose.

This year, my whole family has been operating on a low carbohydrate diet, so I had to plan accordingly. No stuffings or mashed potatoes coated in glutenous gravy were to be tolerated, no chocolate bread puddings or gateaux drenched in raspberry jam could even be contemplated. Whatever was I to do with all of my wartime glass cake pedestals? Leave them to their fine blanket of dust? I wouldn't dream of it.

The stuffing and potatoes were easily overcome: I can't stand the concept of roast turkey anyway, a poor excuse for a giant dry chicken. I-make-a-lamb (as has come to be a catchphrase for me among my closest friends). Lamb is one of my favorite meats, it is fatty and flavorful and requires little dressing, the only sin being to overcook the poor beast. Thinking about my curly-coated friend, I planned the rest of the menu.

The lamb, I dusted with salt and pepper and instructed the dad to puncture its entire surface with inch long holes into which we subsequently stuffed halved cloves of garlic, giving the roast its "signature" porcupinesque appearance, and drenched in a nice shower of olive oil (I am proud to admit that I learned this recipe from my dad). Accompanying the lamb we had garlic and butter sautéed haricot vert, a signature Caprese salad (as we have discussed, I cannot survive a formal meal without one) as well as a rich and cheesy spinach and artichoke dip with freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and Monterey Jack cheeses (recipe below) paired with chips made of low carb tortillas. A few other dishes were in the running, but found themselves downgraded to "day after thanksgiving" meal, since it was only mom, dad and I feasting.

Meal accomplished, I had a bit of a harder time with an idea for a dessert, but a "ladies night" dinner party of a few years back reminded me of the perfect idea: a flourless chocolate cake. Bittersweet chocolate has relatively few carbohydrates (in comparison to other desserts), and this cake could be accomplished with a sugar substitute and no additional starches. I scoured the internet, and ended up mashing together a few different recipes and substituting ingredients until I came up with what I thought would be a moist and rich cake, without the hefty starch setback (recipe below).

Masterpiece accomplished, my dad and I took to our century long fully outfitted photo shoot (for my lovely readers, of course) as my mom complained of fainting fits and starvation. A full hour later, after we inched platters around and endlessly fickled around with depth of field and aperture settings, we finally sliced the roast, picked our pillow "chairs" and settled around the coffee table. We had a lovely evening making fun of each other, watching silly movies and stuffing ourselves past morbidity only to get up the next morning and feast on a brunch of solid chocolate at Payard's FC Chocolate Bar (apparently I go there often, no wonder I'm not losing any weight this week.)


Spinach Artichoke Dip

1 package of fresh spinach
1 16oz jar of artichoke hearts
1 cup mayonnaise
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1 cup freshly grated Monterey Jack
2 cloves garlic, minced

First thing's first, preheat oven to 350. I like to throw the entire bag of spinach, with a tiny hole in the bag, into the microwave and cook it on high for about 2 minutes. While that is cooking, drain the artichoke hearts and separate (or mush) them with your fingers. Mix together all of the ingredients save for 1/4 cup of Jack and place in an oven safe container. Sprinkle the remainder of the Monterey Jack on top and allow to bake for approximately 20 minutes, until the cheese crust is golden brown at the edges. Allow to cool for at least 15 minutes and serve with chips, or whatever else you choose.

Flourless Chocolate Cake with Whipped Cream and Blueberries

16 ounces of bittersweet chocolate
9 large eggs, separated
1/2 cup butter
2/3 cup Splenda (or sugar)
16 ounce container of heavy cream (additional 2 tablespoons of Splenda)
6 ounce carton of fresh blueberries

Preheat oven to 350. In a double boiler, melt the chocolate. Melt the butter and mix with melted chocolate. While the chocolate is melting, wisk together the sugar and egg yolks. Dip your wisk into the chocolate mixture and return it to the egg and sugar bowl, wisking quickly. This will serve to temper your eggs so they do not cook while you combine the chocolate and egg yolk mixtures. Separately, beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form and fold into the chocolate. Line a 9" round pan (preferably with collapsible sides) and pour in the batter. Bake for 18-25 minutes until the batter is set.

Meanwhile, beat the heavy cream and add 2 tablespoons of Splenda. Allow the cake to cool for 15 minutes before removing from the pan and another 15-30 minutes before serving.

Hope you guys enjoy the recipes. Thank you all for keeping up with my sporadic posts, I am thankful for every beautiful moment of my life!

Just a Walk in the Park

I woke up to an incredibly beautiful morning in a strange fog. As the evenings grow steadily darker, I see very little of the city. I was determined to spend today outside, and luckily my friend Tamar obliged to be my date for an afternoon of strolling through the city.

After spending some time at a lovely open air market full of vintage jewelry and curious objects, we decided to take a stroll across the park towards one of my favorite destinations. Usually, I follow the uneventful route across 81st street, but seeing the lovely turning of the leaves, Tamar and I decided to cross through the winding routes inside of the park.

I have visited the park countless times, and as if walking in a maze, I never seem to pass the same spot twice. I am virtually helpless in determining which direction I am walking in, but I am always greeted by a new vision, be it a romantically secluded gazebo, a shimmering lake or a brilliantly sculpted fountain.

Walking through the gently sloping hills I was hypnotized by the rustle of golden red leaves moving in wakes around my feet. Closing my eyes I could sense the movement of the leaves that remained precariously perched on their branches. It was a perfect day! A few winding pathways later, we found ourselves at the edge of a huge lake flanked by massive rock formations. Hoards of couples and children had scrambled up the sides of the miniature mountains and lounged there soaking up the last rays of this year's sunshine, watching others float by in row boats on the glimmering surface of the lake. I too climbed the mountain and I contemplated sitting in one of those boats, perhaps with a parasol or an epic sun hat wearing my most 19th century themed dress as someone I care about rowed us across the stillness of the lake. A lovely thought, perhaps I should make an adventure of it sometime.

Awaking from my fantasy, I descended, and we continued our walk across the park. The colors of the shedding trees were indeed magnificent, even more so through Tamar's somewhat rose tinted glasses. A cerulean blue sky was contrasted by gradations of orange, yellow and red. The image feels ingrained in my memory, I almost see it as I close my eyes.

Finally traversing the park, my lovely date and I headed to one of my favorite pastry places in the city. Francois Payard is a renowned, and amazing, French chef and is the owner of FC Chocolate Bar on Madison between 63rd and 64th. Payard's chocolate confections have been among my favorite treats since my friend Nancy Grimes took me there on one of our "Museum and Dessert" afternoons. Since that time, every few months, I make my way back with a new friend to experience the amazingly subtle and refreshing flavor combinations Payard has created.

Finding the shop is an experience of its own. To reach the cafe, one must go through a lavishly tacky jewelry shop and take a leather padded elevator (complete with a gilded mirror, vanity desk and pouff chair) to the fourth floor. Exiting the elevator, you are faced with a lovely light filled chamber with modern crystal chandeliers and gleaming white tables, a somewhat precious, almost jewelry shop like display shows the compact, but delightful menu options.

Among the options are an assortment of macarons (known to be one of my obsessions), several chocolate pastries including the Louvre (which is in fact incredibly reminiscent of the chocolate pyramid I treat myself to every time I visit the Louvre) and a selection of verrines (including my favorite, le verrine du japonais which stands out for its yuzu citrus mousse).

Sooner or later, I always find myself in Union Square, no matter where I began my daily journey. I trace my own footsteps each week wandering through the booths at the farmers market and visiting and revisiting my favorite shops along the way. I am always on the lookout for moderately priced bees wax tapers and vintage-esque brass candlesticks to house them. I can't tell why every candle has to be tinted and scented, I am most fond of of the delicate natural scent of burning cotton wick against bees wax, the golden glow of the wax illuminated by the flame is overpowering.

ABC carpet on Broadway and 19th has always enchanted me with an incredible collection of objects. I can't even fathom to afford a spoon, no less a dining set from there, but every other week, as if by clockwork, I can be seen circling through the eclectic displays picking out the delicately handmade objects that would fill out my dream life.

It is a treat to live in a city where one can see so many beautiful things in one afternoon.