use real butter

Recipe: pear frangipane tart

Last Friday was the first day of March. And even though the first day of March has everyone running around shouting “Spring! Spring!” that date means a couple of things to me: a) March is typically when Colorado gets her biggest snow storm tracks (HELL YES!) and b) Jeremy and I have to calculate how many years we’ve been married. Sixteen years. How is it that I remember our first date – an afternoon stroll through Old Pasadena – as vividly as I remember yesterday, and yet it feels like Jeremy has been a part of my entire life? Maybe we’re just getting old… I could not have dreamed of a better companion.

14 years ago (kaweah at 11 weeks)

summer hikes in the rockies

hikes in the snow

we love the snow

my best pals

here is to the journey before us

I’m not in denial about spring. I love Colorado spring! Everyone knows (or should know) how awesome spring skiing can be. The arrival of March jolts me out of my winter food mindset too. I set about “spring cleaning” my archives from the last season to make room for new recipes with fresh spring produce. So let’s wave good-bye to February with a pear frangipane tart. Despite the use of a winter fruit, this tart is delightfully bright and cheery any time of year. You can substitute peaches, plums, apples, as you like.

red d’anjou pears

start with the pâte sucrée: butter, vanilla, egg yolk, cream, flour, confectioner’s sugar, salt

pulse the butter and dry ingredients together

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: chicken pot hand pies

We were just gifted 10 inches of snow. In past years this might not have been as big of a deal, but it’s the most we’ve received in one storm this season at my house. Jeremy hit the local hill despite our aversion to weekend crowds. I stayed home to work and to nurse a sore back after running icy moguls just a few days prior. A dump of snow is always welcome, but what lies underneath depends on the weather that came before (this is also critical for avalanche assessment). We have had sun, wind, and warm temperatures interspersed with a few inches here and some frozen spittle there. It can be pretty crunchy stuff. And when you’re glad that your skis find ice underneath the powder instead of rocks, you know it’s been a paltry winter. So when Jeremy got home in time for lunch, I asked him if he wanted to step out for a ski tour on the local trails.

the snow was coming down all day

and the trees retained all of their poofballs

silent and beautiful

It’s a lovely thing to be out in the mountain forests when it snows. It’s quiet, peaceful, invigorating. We don’t talk much so we can listen for moose, elk, or maybe spy a winter white rabbit before it tears off into the woods. The focus is on our environment, our energy, the weather, the rhythm of the kick and glide. But once we get to the car, all thoughts turn to what there is to eat at home. This is especially true when there is something particularly good and exciting waiting in the kitchen. This time, we had chicken pot hand pies.

chicken, mushrooms, onion, potatoes, carrots, garlic, lima beans, parsley, rosemary, thyme, salt, pepper, olive oil

dice the vegetables

chopped and minced

I love me a good chicken pot pie, but I think I am completely enamored with savory hand pies. The first time I had a proper savory hand pie was in New Zealand where the ubiquitous meat pie won me over… as did their fish and chips. Then I sampled a small fraction of what Australia had to offer. A few years later I was walking with Todd and Diane through little Saigon when Diane purchased a pâté chaud for me to try. Heaven. And last summer while I was running on fumes at the Boulder Farmer’s Market, I plunked down some cash for the last chicken hand pie at Sharmane’s booth. So much happiness in one tiny pastry package.

mix the vegetables, herbs, and olive oil together

toss

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: mandarin pancakes (mushu shells)

The stars aligned and we were able to tear ourselves away from our computers and hit Vail this week while there was moderately decent snow. It’s all relative. When you’re looking at another crappy season (two in a row well below average) you get a little desperate to ski anything. It wasn’t bad at all. I mean it wasn’t hip-deep powder, but I realize I sound like a completely spoiled local when I say that… and I am.

smiles, everybody! smiles! (iphone)

bumps (iphone)

and trees (iphone)

I’ve got nothing planned for Valentine’s Day and I know for a fact that Jeremy doesn’t have anything planned either. Unless it snows, and then the plan is to ski it. The interwebs are exploding with sweets and chocolate and things that make my teeth hurt just to look at them. I was getting groceries in town and noticed that everywhere I went, the floral displays had grown 500% and the people selecting flowers were all (confused-looking) men. It was funny and then it was a little sad because I wished people (and not just men!) would bestow little gifts or be extra-nice to everyone all the time. That’s how it should be.

So I have a little gift for you here. I know that it can be a super pain in the hoohoo to find mushu wrappers for some folks and over the many years, readers have asked if I had a recipe for making them at home. And I didn’t. But I did. I just didn’t know it. I was asking my mom about making them when she said (almost shouted), “JenJen! Don’t you remember that I made those when you were little?!” Uh oh…

flour, water, and a little oil

stir in boiling hot water

make a dough

Mom did, in fact, make mushu wrappers or mandarin pancakes from scratch when I was a kid and I totally blanked on it. I think this is evidence that I tried to cram too many things into my finite brain-space and a few things got shoved out. Sorry, Mom! A recipe off my cookbook shelf confirmed just how simple they are to make.

knead the dough on a lightly oiled surface

smooth and elastic (but not sticky)

roll it out into a log

cut the log into 20 even pieces

**Jump for more butter**