use real 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**

Recipe: chinese almond cookies

I appreciate your kindness and encouragement. The fact that so many of you urged me to do what I felt was best for me even though it may not necessarily be the outcome you want says a lot about this readership – that you are all very caring and understanding people. That’s a great feeling for me to know that so many of you who visit this space are good folk. Thank you for being awesome.

The idea of leaving the blog has flitted in and out of the corners of my mind – but it’s usually only triggered when I have to post on deadline (and I’m trying hard to eliminate those) or when I drop a lens cap in cake batter and wonder why I bother with step-by-step process shots. I don’t want to quit blogging, but something has got to change.

we’ve had some impressive colors at sunset lately

and cool clouds too

I do not enjoy writing. I know this may seem surprising because blogging is writing, but I don’t write the way real writers write. I type what I’m thinking in my head and that is merely what I would be saying aloud if I didn’t shut my mouth. I talk. I never shut up. The only reason the blog exists is because I have reasonable typing skills to keep up with my motor mouth. But I do love cooking and photography and archiving and sharing. Writing consumes more time than I’d like because I try to edit my rambling thoughts into something coherent and maintain a fairly regular posting schedule. Without a regular posting schedule things begin to pile up and fall behind, snowballing into a big mess. That stresses me out. I’m OCD.

Anyone who blogs knows that it takes time. This blog, my archive of recipes and random stuff that goes on in my life, is a labor of love… but it’s still labor. I need to change things up on my end which may or may not become apparent here on the blog. I’m working to strike a balance in which I don’t allow use real butter to take time away from important stuff like time with loved ones, my health, my work (this is not my work), and my other passions. So when I said it’s me and not you, I wasn’t just saying it – I meant it. But it certainly isn’t my intention to break up with you… because I like you!

getting some turns in before work

impromptu lunch at l’atelier

As quickly as 2010 flew past me, I’m amazed that it’s still January. Actually, I’m happy that it’s still January and perhaps that is because I’m changing up how I prioritize. It’s also because I have an ass ton of things to get done. Typically, Chinese New Year sneaks up on me and I get all panicky. This year, I’m well aware of its approach and I’ve decided against hosting a big bash – mostly because I like being feeling sane. Of course, we celebrate the arrival of Chinese New Year no matter what. I’m still going to make several of the traditional dishes because there’s all this good luck that you need to get in on!

almonds

flour, almond flour, sugar, almond extract, egg, blanched almonds, baking soda, salt, butter

**Jump for more butter**