Category Archives: Spread

Guest Post from “The Yellow House”

Greetings from Washington DC! I’ll be here for the better part of January for a presidential politics seminar; dress pants and heavy coats are the name of the game and my food adventures will be limited, unfortunately. A few months ago I asked a few of my favorite food bloggers from around the web to help share their talents in this space during my absence. Each contributor has been so generous and kind with their time and talents, honestly their gifts floor me.

Today’s guest post is from Sarah, of The Yellow House. You can read more about the where the name originated on her about page, but Sarah describes that her blog is about living well in a way that’s unfussy (sign me up, now).  She’s a prolific writer,  sharing stories and recipes in her space with an understated sophistication and ease. She speaks to me. I think she’ll speak to you too, as Sarah provides the kind of room for reflection and consideration that, to me, make a blog meaningful. Plus, anyone who has the gumption to go on a hike with a ceramic mug of coffee is a woman I’d like to call friend. Okay, enough of me. Thank you, Sarah, for sharing your talents and wisdom here on Happyolks….

Keep reading…

Every Little Bit

I love this season. It’s cold. There are lights. There is hand holding. There is fellowship among strangers. Joy elevates the mundane, and cultivates memories to satiate and linger through the early months of another year, a new year. The blankets come down from the closet, there is ample excuse to bake, and we somehow find time, make time to connect.

For no particular reason, there are some days when I am shaken by the absurdity of my blessings. I learned at a young age that the holidays are not all gingerbread and champagne for everyone. I remember that when everyone seemed to be getting out of school and taking time off, my mom’s private practice was just ramping up. While the “other moms” were planning progressive dinners, she was helping the mourning, lonely, and lost to navigate the hardest part of their year.

There can be just as much sadness as there is joy associated with this season. I try to remember this everyday. While I indulge in the sweet embrace of loved ones next week, I know that someone, somewhere, is alone. Someone, somewhere, is piecing together a semblance of celebration after deep, confusing loss.

It’s startling, to witness your own luck. How mind-blowing it is to have so much, again, another year.

Of course there are moments throughout the season that frustrate. Our relatives can make us crazy. You’ll bump into that person from high school you really would have rather avoided. You’ll feel obligated to attend certain neighborhood functions. Your partner will exceed the 50lb baggage limit. You’ll be late to work. Someone will forget to change the roll in the guest room. There will be thousands of crazy, maddening moments and interactions this season.

Remember that someone, just like you, somewhere on this planet doesn’t get those crazy, maddening moments. They have no one to burn the biscuits for. They are trying to understand the meaning of tradition when there is now an empty seat at the table.

Here’s the thing… I want every single crazy moment that comes with this time of year. I know that one year, if I am not so lucky as I am now, that I will cling to the taste and the touch and the sounds of all these moments and how they made my life so rich and full. I want to do the things I don’t want to really do, I want to see the people I don’t really want to see, I want show, express, and appreciate every bit of it.

Roasted Chestnut Spread 

  • 1 lb Chestnuts
  • 1 1/2 – 2 cups water
  • 1/2 cup + 2 tbsp sugar
  • 1 tsp vanilla

Roasting and shucking chestnuts is more fun with a partner, so grab a partner and tell them to set the oven to 425.’ As the oven preheats, begin working with the chestnuts by cutting a large x on the rounded side of each shell. Place flat side down on a pan. I cover mine with parchment because it’s a bit “seasoned” if you know what I mean. Pour a cup of water over the cross-hatched chestnuts and roast for about 22-25 minutes.

Remove from the oven, the skins should have peel back a bit by now. Let cool for about 10 minutes before getting started on the peeling process. You’ll need to discard the tough, dark brown shell as well as the thin brown skin that coats the actual soft nut. From all my research, each nut has a different story. Some shells and skins are a nuisance while others come off quite easily. It’s a tedious job, but definitely worth it. Toss naked chestnuts into small pot and cover with 1 1/2 – 2 cups of water, depending on how many nuts you ended up yielding. I usually come out with a few nasty moldy dudes and some that crumble apart when I’m trying to peel, so my best guess is that I have about 8-10 ounces of actual nut when it’s all said and done. Add sugar and vanilla. Bring to a boil and stir, allowing to simmer for about 15 minutes.

Remove from heat. Let sit in the pot for a bit before transferring to a food processer with the blade attachment. Process for about 5 minutes, adding a tiny bit of water or warm milk to the mixture to help things along. Transfer to a jar or serve immediately with crepes, toast, or apple slices.

Recipe adapted from Jennie. Cowl/Scarf made by Melissa. Find more music by the amazing (22 year-old!!) Ben Howard Here.

Fava Bean Crostini

My head is full, my heart is ready. A few more days and it all shall pass, as they say. The last few days of the semester are the hardest, but most important, times to practice balance and moderation. In Sanskrit, moderation is matannuta, knowing the right amount: where well-being and contentment come together. I’m thankful for this Buddhism exam. It throws me beautiful and thought provoking buoys while navigating the sticky stuff.

Cooking provides the time and space to step away from what crowds our day planners, our thoughts, and helps us to practice “the right amount.” Too much vinegar will overpower your salad, not enough yeast will leave your loaves lifeless.

I love this fava bean crostini, for it is just the right amount.

Creamy Fava Bean Crostini (adapted from Kay Chun, Gourmet)

  • 1 cup shelled fresh fava beans (1 1/4 pounds in pods)
  • 1 1/2 cups packed baby arugula (or spinach if bitter greens aren’t your party)
  • 2 medium sized ripe avocados
  • 1/4 teaspoon lemon zest
  • 1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1 garlic clove, finely minced
  • 8-10 mint leaves, finely minced
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp pepper
  • sliced multi-grain baguette
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • (optional) wild caught Alaskan salmon

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Remove fava beans from their pods, and cook in a pot of boiling water for 3 to 4 minutes, then drain and transfer to an ice bath to stop cooking. Gently peel off skins, and set aside.

In a food processor, pulse avocados and arugulua until very coarsely chopped. Add fava beans, lemon zest, lemon zest, salt, pepper, and minced fresh mint. Pulse for 1-2 minutes.

Cut bread into thin slices,and lay flat on a cookie sheet and smear with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Bake until golden crisp, 8-10 minutes.

Spoon fava-bean mixture onto toasts with a few sprigs of arugula, then drizzle with oil. Lemon broiled salmon makes a perfect topper… just saying (smiles).

Moving and Mason Jars

In sync with the changes in season, Shaun and I spent this past weekend closing a chapter of our lives by packing up his apartment and moving into the little house down the road that will give him, and us, more room to grow. Moving may sometimes seem like a stressful endeavor, but going through closets, bookshelves, and old boxes helped us to slow down and savor the little mementos of our past that remind how far we’ve come as individuals, and as a couple. Tickets to baseball games, race bibs, old photos from our teens, letters from friends, clippings of the Times that inspired us on Sunday mornings past – just the little things that made us pause to honor the blessings in our lives. When I was boxing up the kitchen supplies I found an old egg-timer that I had accidentally set too close to the open flame of the stove and had half-melted into the tile counter top. It was clearly non-functional and why I didn’t just toss it back then, who knows. But it made me smile – this was the kitchen that Happyolks was born, and even though it was so small we could barely share counter space, it provided us with more memories and laughs than I can count. Late Sunday afternoon after some hardcore deep cleaning, spackling, and trips to Goodwill, we stood in the empty space glad for all that has been and excited for all that is still to come.

Seventy-five percent of our meals this weekend can be found at your local Whole Foods cold case (Golden Beet and Fennel salad for me, Calzones for him), but I did get around to experimenting with marmalades and preserves as an excuse to test-drive my new mason jars. Yes, I just used “test drive” and mason jars in the same sentence. First, a Grapefruit Ginger Thyme Marmalade and second, a Strawberry Rhubarb Basil Jam. They’re both sweet, and a little savory. That’s kinda what life feels like right about now around these parts. The marmalade is on the sour side, and I think it pairs well will poultry and mild greens. The jam would be lovely with biscuits or shortcake. If you’re feeling virtuous try a gluten free biscuit recipe at either Whole Life Nutrition or Gluten-Free Girl. Wanna splurge? Go for the shortcake recipe with cream from Joy the Baker.

For the Grapefruit Marmalade, you’ll need

  • 3 large ruby red grapefruits
  • 2 Meyer lemons
  • 2 cups of raw sugar
  • 2-3” nub of ginger, grated
  • a handful of fresh sprigs of thyme

With a paring knife, peel away the rind and pulp of a grapefruit and set aside. Cut in half, then remove the white membrane from the middle and discard. Cut the grapefruit into 1” chunks and place into a medium sized pot with 3 cups of water. Cut the rind and pulp into very thin strips no more than 2” in length and add to the pot. Repeat with the other two grapefruit and the lemons. Fill the pot with more water until just barely covering the top layer of fruit and rind. Bring to a rolling boil and cook for 30 minutes until the rinds are very tender. If the water level falls too low, add a bit of water. After 30 min, stir in the sugar and let the mixture come to a boil again. Reduce heat to the lowest setting and let simmer for another 25-30 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in the thyme.  Spoon the marmalade into sterilized jars to store in the fridge, or go through the heat bath process for long-term storage.

For the Strawberry Rhubarb Basil Jam, you’ll need:

  • 3 heaping baskets of strawberries
  • 6 (9” to 12”) stalks of rhubarb
  • 2-3” nub of ginger, grated
  • **1 1/4 cup of ground flax seed
  • 1 cup of raw sugar
  • Juice and zest of one meyer lemon
  • Handful of fresh basil

Rinse the strawberries and rhubarb in warm water and veggie spray (even if they’re organic). Remove stems from strawberries, cut large pieces to 1” chunks and add to deep pot. Remove tough ends of rhubarb and chop into ½ inch chunks and add to pot with the strawberries. Cover with 2 cups of water and bring burner to medium heat. Let the mixture simmer down to a near liquid then remove from heat, stir in flax, sugar, lemon juice, zest, and grated ginger and return to a low simmer. Stir off and on for 20 minutes to thicken and to prevent sugars from burning at the bottom of the pot. Remove from heat when the mixture has taken on a jelly-like texture and add the basil. When slightly cooled, spoon the jam into sterilized jars to store in the fridge, or go through the heat bath process for long-term storage.

** I used ground flaxseed as a thickening agent because half-way into the process I realized I didn’t have pectin! At first I thought it was going to be a disaster and that I had just destroyed $6 of fresh strawberries, but it turns out it worked really well! Who couldn’t use a little extra flax in their diets anyway, eh?

R e c i p e   I n d e x
G o o d   P e o p l e
P r e s s   &   M o r e