use real butter

Recipe: sour cream lemon pound cake

[Portal 2 was released Tuesday. If you know what I’m talking about, you’ll understand the cake reference.]

We had a little accident earlier this week. Well, Kaweah had an accident when no one was around. I came home from an appointment to find her limping about, crying in pain, and hanging her head low and to the left. We’re pretty sure she fell down the stairs. I carried her to the car and drove to her vet. Nothing broken, probably a bad sprain. They informed me that Kaweah has terrific range of motion and health for her age. She got a treat and a bottle of pain medication. She’s on the mend, but we’re watching her and… we’ve installed baby gates at both sets of stairs.

it’s for your own good, kaweah

Kaweah was improved enough Tuesday evening that we were okay to leave her at home and meet up with my cousin and her husband for a lovely dinner at Frasca in Boulder.

waiting for my cousin to arrive

my duck egg appetizer

jeremy’s yellowfin tuna appetizer

colorado lamb roasted to perfection

pan-seared sea bream

I hadn’t been to Frasca since last summer (but I’ve been to Pizzeria Locale quite a bit this year) and the interior has changed up due to a remodel. Our server said we could get a tour of the kitchen after our meal. Bobby Stuckey (owner and wine director) graciously took us around the new spaces – new dining area (which used to be the old kitchen), the gorgeous glass polishing room, the kitchen, the offices, and then out the back way into Pizzeria Locale (part of Frasca) and then next door to the Caffe.

i’d love to have a glass polishing room – and i’ll need a glass polisher too

We are spoiled rotten in Boulder with so many fantastic restaurants (especially considering the size of the city). Frasca is most certainly one of our favorites. It’s that special place you go when something big has happened. I already promised my girlfriend that I’m taking her there for dinner to celebrate the completion of her Ph.D. this summer. I’m looking forward to it. And summer is fast on spring’s heels.

boulder is starting to bloom

Spring in Boulder means sunshine, warmer weather, that yellow-green haze of leaves just starting to bud on naked trees, and undergraduates who are a little too excited to don their Daisy Dukes even though it’s only 55°F out. Spring in my mountain town means snow, rain, rainbows, sunshine, more snow… I like that it’s still cool enough around here for me to bake without wilting in the heat.

time for cake: flour, sugar, butter, eggs, lemons, sour cream, salt, baking soda

grease and flour your cake pan

I used to have a great lemon pound cake recipe that I made often when I lived at sea-level. Then I made it a few months after moving to the mountains and it cratered like nobody’s business. I was really sad. The texture of the pound cake wasn’t even close. I tried adjusting ingredients, but it either tanked or was off or both. So I stayed away from making lemon pound cake for a few years.

add eggs one at a time to creamed butter and sugar

grating lemon peel

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: pandan ice cream

[Today is the last day to get the early bird registration discount of $50 for the Food and Light food photography and styling workshop in Boulder, Colorado this summer. We are so looking forward to working with you!]

P is for party! In my case, a dosa party hosted by my favorite little blogger down the road, Manisha. She has ruined me, ruined me. I dare not set foot into an Indian restaurant lest I be disappointed that it’s not as good as Manisha’s cooking. [I’m sorry, I don’t have good photos of the dosas because I was too busy EATING them… Priorities, man.]

manisha tops the little papads (which i kept sneaking)

mango panna cotta with cardamom and pistachios

Did I mention that I love having friends who cook? It seems to be a problem that plagues many of my food blog friends who happen to be phenomenal cooks – none of their friends cook. Sure, people eat, but few people actually know and prepare their food at a fundamental level these days. I’m guessing this readership is in the minority when we consider our society of convenience and junk and corporate-mystery-crap-peddled-as-nourishment. But back to friends who cook… Just the other day I was having a pleasant catch-up with Lisa over breakfast and she bemoaned that all too familiar plight of the avid cook: no one invites you over for dinner. Foodies (I know some people hate that word – so call them food enthusiasts or whatever, I really don’t care) are always told “I can’t cook like you.” That’s not really the point. Both Lisa and I agreed that being invited over for take out pizza would be terrific because it’s about spending the time together, not going head to head to outdo or impress. At least, that’s not what my friendships are based on.

(from left to right) great cooks: kitt, manisha, birthday girl dana, and teri (not pictured: kathya)

I was lucky in grad school because I had two girlfriends who were great cooks and we took turns inviting each other (and partners) over for big bash meals – something to take your mind off the grind of research for an evening. I bond with people over food. My dad had a rule in our house: we all sat down to dinner together as a family and the television was turned OFF. And you know what? It was nice (except when the topic turned to SAT scores, college admissions, and why the heck I insisted on playing field hockey). It took a while, but after a couple of years in Colorado I have found a great gaggle of gal pals who love to cook and love to feed one another. We go to ethnic grocery stores together like fifth graders on a field trip. So it was a few weeks ago that Kathya and I were cruising around H-Mart in Denver.

p is also for pandan

defrosted

Truth be told, I didn’t know what pandan leaves were. I just knew that southeast Asian bloggers loved the stuff and made pretty green desserts with it. I held the bag in my hand… a mere two dollars or such. “What is it?” I asked Kathya. Her face melted into a big smile and she told me she loves the stuff and it’s a little nutty, a little floral. I put the packet in my cart thinking I would enlist the help of the interwebs later to figure out what to do with the leaves.

tie into a knot for ease of retrieval

milk, sugar, cream, and a pinch of salt

steep the leaves in the hot cream

Pandan is screwpine leaf and the flavor is nutty, floral, and a tad piny, if that makes sense. It’s subtle and lovely. I was always drawn to it because it’s green and I’m a sucker for green foods. What I learned was that the green color comes from pandan extract, which I didn’t have. So I chanced a visit to my local Asian grocer and found it. I picked up a bottle for myself and another for Kathya.

pandan extract

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: pistachio crème brûlée

little love letter #1
I remember in the early days when we were backpacking the Olympics of Washington and it started to rain. You thought it would get better. You really believed it would because you grew up in New Mexico where it’s sunny almost every day. After 24 hours of non-stop rain I declared we were packing up and moving on, in the rain. We discovered that a journey can be magical, rain or shine or horizontal snow. And that is how we choose to live our life together to this day. Throughout the years there have been so many great moments along with a few very hard times. I’m glad that you are my eternal traveling companion – then and now, rain or shine, laughter or tears, but always love.

little love letter #2
There is no way for you to ever know how much you broke my heart the day you left. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you. I often find myself chuckling over something silly that I know you’d appreciate or discovering a little knick knack you had given me: the little moon doggie, the office supply cube, a newspaper clipping. I still have your number in my address book, have all of your letters squirreled away someplace safe, hear your voice in my head. I don’t cry as much anymore, but it still catches me by surprise now and again. I think of the plans we had – to grow old together, to take care of Mom and Dad together, to watch your children grow up, to be best friends and sisters into old age. I still keep you in my heart.

little love letter #3
Can you tell how much I love you even though I don’t know how to say it? Some of my earliest memories include walking with you on a sunny afternoon around the neighborhood. I always felt safe and secure with you near. You were the calming presence. You never yelled, you were never mean, your eyes danced like sparkling stars when you smiled. You held my hand when I walked up the stairs as a toddler. Now, I offer you my arm or my hand when we walk together. I don’t understand everything you say to me and I’m pretty sure you don’t understand everything I say to you in my mangled Mandarin, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes still dance when you smile and I know what you mean when you squeeze my hand.

littler love letters
Thank you for letting me be me. Thank you for getting who I am. Thank you for being you.

I honestly don’t think Moses said, “Word up, my people…” but I like the way you tell the story.

The way you think and the way you treat others challenge me to think differently, to do better, to be better. I love that about you.

We make a GREAT team. It’s a joy to work with you.

It meant so much to me that you were there when I needed you most, and I didn’t even have to ask.

Your stories make me laugh. Your curiosity helps me learn. Your enthusiasm is infectious.

Watching you raise your children makes me so proud to be your friend.

Of all the random paths we have taken in this world, I’m glad our two random paths have crossed and that you are a part of my life.

If I had a tail, I’d wag it whenever I am with you.

That good heart of yours makes this world a better place.

“I sure do love you.”

dinner: pan-seared, dry-aged beef tenderloin on polenta with chanterelles and port reduction

dessert: pistachio crème brûlée

I am a fan of love. I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day isn’t love, it’s a gimmick. For me, love is a kiss and sweet words each morning. Love is that warm hug in the kitchen just because you’re there. Love is running through the house squeaking the dog toy – chasing one another and laughing hysterically. Love is poring over maps together to plan the next backpacking trip. Love is calling to the other to go outside and admire the moon one fine evening. Love is curling up under the covers and whispering plans to one another for the next day.

And in the House of Butter, love is also about making a great meal to enjoy and share.

easy: eggs, cream, sugar, pistachios

after removing the skins

sugar and pistachios

**Jump for more butter**