Pumpkin Cheesecake Pie

Last year for Thanksgiving we made our first "from scratch" pumpkin pie. It was a fun experience. We purchased a special "pie" pumpkin. With no clue how to proceed, we just quartered the pumpkin, cleaned out the seeds and other "pumpkin guts" (to quote Connor) placed cut side down on a cookie sheet, and baked until soft. Once cooked, I scraped the meat into the food processor bowl and pureed until smooth. Not happy with the not-orange-enough color of the puree, I added a cooked carrot to the mixture. It didn't change the flavor, but made the color more appetizing. I actually ended up with more than I needed, so I froze the remained to use in future pies or pumpkin bread.

My plan was to use the puree in place of canned pumpkin in my favorite pie recipe, but thought it deserved a homemade crust. Since I rely on frozen pie crust, I called on my son James, the chef, to make the pastry. He made a rustic, French style crust, rich with butter and sugar. It was delicious. We will definitely be doing this again.

This is my old "go to" recipe. Adjust accordingly if you bake your own pumpkin.

Pumpkin Cheesecake Pie

Heat oven to 425°

2 Crusts for 9" deep dish pie

16 oz. cream cheese, softened

1 ½  cup firmly packed brown sugar

4 eggs

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

¼ tsp. ground nutmeg

1 can pumpkin (29oz.)

Whipped cream for garnish

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Beat cream cheese and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs, one at a time.

Stir in cinnamon, nutmeg and pumpkin until smooth. Pour mixture into prepared crust. Place on cookie sheet in preheated, hot oven.

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Immediately lower temperature to 350°.

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Bake 35 - 45 minutes or until center is almost set

Cool completely on wire rack. Serve topped with whipped cream

 

The Sage Seed

             Joe was an outdoorsman, and always had been. Nothing made him happier than spending a weekend fishing or hunting with his brother or sons. Waterfowl and upland game birds were a particular passion. His wife, Frankie, had gotten used to being a “hunting widow.” Her only complaint was that along with the game birds, he usually brought home enough dust and sage seed to choke a mule. It wasn't so bad, at least the season was shorter than football.
            A year earlier, while shopping at K-Mart, Joe fell in love. It was a Mossberg 12-gauge auto-loader . . . and it was on sale. It was the perfect shotgun for his annual eastern Oregon bird hunt. He had wanted one like it for a long time, and they had a little extra cash. With a bit of persuasion, Frankie agreed that it was a great deal, and would never be any cheaper. “It can be my birthday and Christmas present,” Joe offered.
            Frankie just smiled. Joe deserved a new one; she knew he planned to pass his old double barrel to their oldest son for his birthday…and it really was a good buy.
            He purchased the shotgun, and the men went on their trip. Upon his return, he declared that it was the best firearm he’d ever used. The brace of chukars and sage-hens he brought home proved it.
            Fall gave way to winter, and January brought some of the worst storms in decades. Frigid arctic winds howled for days. Freezing rain created a world brittle as glass, snapping tree limbs and power lines alike. Western Oregon, unaccustomed to sub-zero temperatures, was paralyzed.
            On Joe and Frankie’s little farm, the fields were reduced to little more than straw stubble. The wind had scoured and burned the grass, and the ice had finished it off. The livestock had been confined to the barn, where they could be cared for…and fed. Joe studied the dwindling stack of bales in the corner. It had been nearly three weeks. They had not been prepared for this. Even if the weather changed tomorrow, there was nothing left of the pasture. He would have to buy more hay, and this was definitely not in the family budget. He shook his head, knowing what he had to do.
            “I’m going to sell the Mossberg,” he told Frankie that evening. “I barely fired it, only put about a dozen rounds through it. It’s just like a new gun.”
            “Is that really necessary?” She asked, “I mean, there must be something else we can do.”
            “It’s not like we can charge a ton of hay to a credit card,” Joe responded, always practical. “It’s okay, guns are a commodity. Buy in good times, sell in bad.”
             Removing the shotgun from its case, he proceeded to wipe it down carefully, although it was already spotless. Returned to its manufacturer’s box, the 12 gauge really did look like new.  A slip of paper caught his eye. It was the original receipt.
            “Do you think I could just return it?” Joe mused. “I wonder what K-Mart’s policy is on stuff like that.”
            An hour later, he emerged from the store with a cash refund in his pocket, enough to buy hay for the rest of the winter. Apparently, the customer is always right at the big red K.
            Months went by and October bird season approached again. Nothing was said this year about a new shotgun. One day, Frankie was back at K-Mart, looking for gym bags for the boys. While shopping in sporting goods, she found herself in front of the gun counter, staring at a big red sign. CLEARANCE. She scanned the display case for a 12-gauge auto-loader. There it was, toward the end. Nearly half off, and significantly less than Joe had paid the previous year.
            Immediately, she determined to buy it for her husband. It was still almost $200. Joe would notice if she spent that much money without accounting for it. She rang the bell for service.
            “Can I put this on lay-away?” she asked, indicating the Mossberg behind the glass.  
            Christmas morning, Frankie was fairly twitching. They opened presents as they always did, youngest to oldest, with Joe being last. After the last bow was plucked off, and the last bit of colored paper hit the floor, Frankie reached behind the couch and pulled out another wrapped package. “I think Santa forgot to put this under the tree,” she smiled, handing it to Joe.
            A look of incredulous joy crossed the man’s face as he tore the red and gold striped paper off the box. “Wow,” he grinned as he lifted the shotgun from its box and studied it, inside and out. “Oh, honey, I can’t believe it. How did you manage this?”
            “Lay-away!” she laughed. “Is it the right one? I wasn’t sure of the model.”
            Joe’s grin widened, and he handed her a tiny, round ball. “Not only is it the right one,” he told her, “I think it’s the same one.”  
            Frankie looked at the object in her hand. It was a sage seed, the kind found in the high deserts of eastern and central Oregon.


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        That was a true story. It happened back in the 80’s…when you could put anything on lay-away at K-Mart, and the customer was always right. This is Frankie’s recipe. It works best with domestic duck, the fatter the better. The fat all cooks off, and leaves a wonderful, crispy skin and succulent meat. A deep, open pan with a rack is essential.

ROAST DUCK         Heat oven to 400°

1 large, fat duck
1½ tsp kosher salt
½ coarse, black pepper
½ tsp garlic powder
½ tsp paprika
Fresh sprigs of rosemary (optional)

Cut duck into quarters. Shears work well for this. Trim excess fat and ragged skin edges, but do not remove the skin. (If you are using wild, skinned duck breasts, lay strips of bacon across each breast to replace the skin. Secure with picks. Proceed as follows.)

Make a dry rub of salt, pepper, garlic and paprika. Proportions are suggested, but you can adjust to taste. Rub both sides of each duck piece generously.

Use a deep broiler pan for best results. Lightly oil the roasting rack. Lay duck quarters skin-side-down on the rack. Place a stem of fresh rosemary on each piece (non-skin side).

Place in hot oven. Reduce heat to 325°, and roast skin side down for 30 minutes.

Turn the duck quarters skin-side-up. Drain any fat from the drip pan. Continue roasting, skin-side-up, 2 - 2½ hours, until inner temperature at thickest point reaches 165°. The drip pan will likely be full. When slow-roasted this way, the fat melts away, leaving a moist and tender bird with a crackly-crisp skin.

I like to serve this with a wild rice pilaf and baby carrots.

Homegrown Tomatoes

            It had been more years than I care to admit since I was able to grow a really good tomato...until now. The cool sea air on Orcas was not conducive to ripening tomatoes, not to mention the deer. I had to pick everything pretty much as soon as it was remotely red...or it was gone. We have "suburban deer" here, we see them in the yard occasionally, but so far all we have lost are some strawberry leaves. I think the rest of the garden is too close to the house for the deer to feel secure.
            We planted our garden with lovely organic starts, also benefitting Jordan's school. At first Laura and the kids were sure that the cucumber was going to die. The little plant was wilted every evening. I assured them that it would be ok. To make sure of it, I cut the bottom off a Mt. Dew bottle and sunk it upside down beside the cuke. By filling it with water a time or two a day, we made sure that the water got down to the roots. So far we have harvested 3 nice sized cucumbers, with many more little pickles growing on the trellised vine.
             The bell peppers are also coming along nicely, having already picked a nice red one. Zucchini too, after many years of failure on the island.
             It's the tomatoes, however of which I am the most proud. We are having a bumper crop. The cherries are coming in clusters sweet as candy. Connor and Jordan eat them as soon as they're ripe, warm from the sun, straight from the bush. Even the beefsteak, traditionally a long season fruit, is ripening now. I've never had luck with beefsteaks, even here in Portland. There is something to be said for the new organic hybrids.
            To quote the song "there's just two things that money can't buy...and that's true love and homegrown tomatoes."
     
Simple Greek Salad

2 or 3 perfectly ripe tomatoes, seeded and cut into chunks
1 large cucumber, cubed
1 small jar pitted Kalamata olives
1 small sweet onion, coarsely chopped

Combine all the veggies. Toss with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. Serve chilled.

Saturday Night in Paradise

The backyard barbecue has always been a large part of summer for our family. Being natives of the rainy Pacific Northwest, we learned from an early age to take advantage of any sunny weekend. This made for some very spontaneous parties. Often put together on a whim, the menu varied incredibly. Sometimes, especially on a Friday evening after work, we would do a “bring your own” scenario. Whoever was hosting the event would provide condiments, chips, a side dish or two, and the barbeque to cook on. Friends and their kids would come over, and bring whatever grill-able meat they happened to have on hand. This ranged from hotdogs, burgers and brats to pork chops, ribs or steak. Strangely enough, chicken didn’t happen that often. These days, the parties are at my daughter and son-in-laws house, and with our crazy schedules, can happen any day of the week. 



When there is actual planning involved, our patio parties are even better. Sometimes a freshly caught salmon or trout, or a couple of smoked chickens. A butterflied leg of lamb marinated for a couple of days and grilled to a medium-rare perfection, was my mother-in-law’s specialty. Pricey, it was a treat usually only she prepared. There would be fresh tossed salad from our garden, pineapple baked beans, homemade pasta or potato salads.
 

Cascade Lake trout on the grill

I admit, I have been known to buy “deli” potato salad and doctor it up to taste more like homemade. Just add a couple of chopped hardboiled eggs, some diced sweet or dill pickle, and a little extra mayo. I never try to pass it off as my own, although I didn’t volunteer the information. If anyone asks, I cop to it. Beverages range from ice tea, soda and milk, to wine coolers and beer. The kids play on the lawn as the sun goes down and the citronella candles are lit. The pungent fragrance of the candles mingles with the aroma of briquettes and barbeque.  Laughter, music and conversation drifted on the breeze, the sounds of Saturday night in paradise.

Grilled Leg of Lamb

1 leg of lamb, boned and butterflied (the meat cutter at your supermarket can do this)

2 cups Italian salad dressing

2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed

1 package Béarnaise sauce mix, prepared

Trim the excess fat from the lamb, making sure to remove all the “silver skin”. Place in a shallow baking dish. Rub both sides with crushed garlic. Pour the dressing over the meat. Cover and marinate overnight.

Grill over hot coals or gas, turning several times until thickest part of roast is done to medium-rare. Rest for 10 minutes before cutting. Slice thinly across the grain.

Serve with Béarnaise sauce on the side

 

A Day of Parties

Last weekend was my grandson Connor's fourth birthday. He had asked for a "knight and princess" party (the princess part was his mom's idea, since there would be some girls), so that became the theme. Fried chicken, corn-on-the-cob, watermelon and corn muffins were the feast of the day, with plenty of Capri Sun and bottled water. The weather that afternoon was perfect, special ordered for the day, although Connor's dad was a bit too warm in his knight costume. After games and snacks, there was a knighting/"princessing" ceremony, complete with inflatable swords and plastic tiaras.
  

 A parade down the cul-de-sac was followed by the slaying of the dragon piñata. As usual, Laura outdid herself with the cake. A knight needs his castle, and that's just what she created. Four tiers high, the strawberry cake was frosted with chocolate icing and embellished with Hershey nuggets and M&Ms. The turrets were built from ice cream cones. Just in case the cake was not large enough, she added a tower of lemon cupcakes.

Since Lloyd and Terri were up visiting, and most of the family would already be at the house, Laura decided to have Terri's baby shower that evening. Melanie brought her Pampered Chef expertise and some cool tools to make an amazing cucumber-lime dip and veggie platter, with a chocolate lava cake for dessert. Along with spinach dip, a fruit tray and sparkling tropical punch, the dining room table was full of girl-food. The men, evidently still hungry after the afternoon's festivities, descended like a herd of locusts and helped us with the leftovers. Everyone got plenty to eat, and Mel's party games had us all laughing hard.

I tried a new recipe for the shower, and it was a hit. I can only imagine how good it would be with real crab.

Crab Puffs
Makes about a dozen
Heat oven to 375f

1 can butterflake crescent rolls
1 - 8oz package of Krab
1/2 cup finely shredded sharp cheddar cheese
2 tbsp. mayonnaise
1/4 tsp. onion powder or 1/2 tsp. dried minced onion
Salt & pepper to taste

Chop the krab coarsely. Combine krab, cheese, mayo and seasonings. Set aside
Unroll the crescent dough and seal up the perforations. Cut into 12 equal rectangles.
Place about 1 teaspoon of filling in the center of each rectangle. Fold in half and seal the edges, ravioli style.

Place 1 inch apart on an ungreased cookie sheet.

Bake at 375 for 14 minutes, or until golden brown and crispy. Serve warm.