If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.
Meister Eckhart
Showing posts with label lifeisbeautiful. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lifeisbeautiful. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
A Very Kefi Christmas
"It is a miracle if you can find true friends, and it is a miracle if you have enough food to eat, and it is a miracle if you get to spend your days and evenings doing whatever it is you like to do, and the holiday season—like all the other seasons—is a good time not only to tell stories of miracles, but to think about the miracles in your own life, and to be grateful for them." —Lemony Snicket
There are many things that have afforded me great success in this world-- I'm a white person from the US who went to college and is employed. To 99.99% of the rest of the world, I wasn't just born on third--I came onto Earth an inch from home plate.
Few things have made me feel as privileged as this past weekend, when my family got together to celebrate a pre-Christmas Extravaganza with me before I headed back to DC to work both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. It was an amazing 36-hour love fest that featured all of the people I hold dearest, from the family with which I was born to the mish-mash of folks I have chosen over the years to count among my people.
The Kefis have always believed in a big, fat, decorative Christmas, but our winter holidays have not always been as movie-esque as this one was-- those years that began when the oldest of my siblings became a teenager and ended when the youngest of us left adolescence behind brought as much angst and posturing around the holidays for us as they did any other family. We worked hard for our practically-perfect pre-Christmas, and it made me think about how wonderfully lucky we are if, as adults, we can move past the family squabbles about presents and table turf that our complicated world increasingly encourages, and remember how truly magic Christmas can be, if only we bring to the table with us best wishes for each other and a healthy sense of humor about ourselves (making Christmas a champagne-only event doesn't hurt, either).
It is, of course, more than happy circumstance that my family gets to enjoy holidays like these at a time when so many families are splintered by the demands of our world. In some other post at some other time, I will wax and wane on how closely linked happiness is to privilege. But, for now, let me say without hope or agenda--just because it's Christmas, and at Christmas you tell the truth--to me, we are perfect.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Love is, Actually, All Around
The First Family remains a shining example of what happens when enduring love, fiery passion, and true partnership rule the roost
... and more importantly:
Wisconsin elects the nation's first openly-gay Senator
Hawaii sends the first Japanese-American woman to the Senate, and she will join a Congress with a record number of women members
AND FINALLY....
Maryland, Maine, Minnesota, and Washington become the four newest states to recognize justice, equity under the law, and a more inclusive understanding of love!
Friday, November 2, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Maple Apple Frangipane
The windows are open, autumnal sunshine is pouring into my kitchen, and the sound of the Howard Homecoming is echoing down the block--the perfect day to put freshly-picked apples to use!
In the beginning of September, I messed around with this thing called frangipane and the results were underwhelming. I swore not to be outdone by the French and their delicacies (NB: yes, the word "frangipane" is clearly Italian, but Wikipedia tells me it used to be "franchipane," which is apparently French... so I can still blame the fussiness of this almond filling on the French! Sorry, Sarkozypoo!) and I have finally circled back around to conquer this beast.
And conquer it I have.
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Let's back up. Earlier this month, I met CousinKef and BabyKef for some fun fall activities that resulted in about 20 lbs of apples sitting in my kitchen waiting to be transformed into autumnal treats.
Flash forward about two weeks, and we're in spinning class on a beautiful Saturday morning (why I didn't just ride my damn bike in this gorgeous weather is neither here nor there). The way-too-peppy-for-8am instructor is talking some mess about how good the burn feels when it hits me: I am going to apple-ize the frangi-whatever and it is going to be delicious.
The result was amazing! This may be the creation I am most proud of since I made those out-of-this-word pork chops. There are three components, but none is particularly time consuming. I simplified the process by using a pre-mixed gluten-free pie crust (it is not a pie crust mix, per se, as you still have to add several ingredients--it just pre-combines all the weird flours you have to buy for $8.99/cup into one $3.69 mix and is enough for two pies. Awesome.)
I came, I saw, I frangipaned. You're welcome.
Apple Frangipane With Maple Glaze
Ingredients
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1. Preheat oven to 425. Whatever pie crust you are using should be cold, so if you made it yourself, put it in a pie or tart pan and let chill in freezer. Once it has chilled for about 20 minutes, poke fork holes all over it and cover the tips with either a wreath of tin foil or a pie-crust shield. Cook until crust is just turning golden brown, which will depend on the crust but will probably take about 12-15 minutes. Set aside to cool. Reduce oven heat to 375.
2. Combine almond flour, liquor, lemon zest, lemon juice, and honey (start with 1/3 c honey and proceed to step 3. If at the end of step 3 the frangipane is not sweet enough for you, add honey and mix until you like the taste.) A food processor or blender would be easiest, but if you do not have one then stirring vigorously will be just fine.
3. Cut in the butter one TBS at a time until a thick, gooey paste has formed--again, I did this in my food processor and it took about 1 minute, but you can do it the old-fashioned way with a pastry blender or potato masher. (If you want to add more honey, now is the time.) Set aside.
4. To make the glaze, mix together melted butter, maple syrup, and cinnamon. Put thinly-sliced apples in a bowl and toss with maple glaze.
5. Place the frangipane (almond mix) in the cooled pie crust and level off with a rubber spatula. Arrange soaked apple slices however you would like on top in a single layer. Pour remaining maple glaze evenly over the tart. You will probably have a few gooey apple slices left over--eat them!
6. Cook tart until center is firm to touch, it took my little oven about 40 minutes--just start checking around 30 minutes or so. Let cool, enjoy! For added sweetness, whip up a half batch of maple glaze and drizzle a few drops on pieces immediately before serving.
Read More
In the beginning of September, I messed around with this thing called frangipane and the results were underwhelming. I swore not to be outdone by the French and their delicacies (NB: yes, the word "frangipane" is clearly Italian, but Wikipedia tells me it used to be "franchipane," which is apparently French... so I can still blame the fussiness of this almond filling on the French! Sorry, Sarkozypoo!) and I have finally circled back around to conquer this beast.
And conquer it I have.
.JPG)
Let's back up. Earlier this month, I met CousinKef and BabyKef for some fun fall activities that resulted in about 20 lbs of apples sitting in my kitchen waiting to be transformed into autumnal treats.
 |
| Why, yes, that IS what 19.3 lbs of apples look like! |
The result was amazing! This may be the creation I am most proud of since I made those out-of-this-word pork chops. There are three components, but none is particularly time consuming. I simplified the process by using a pre-mixed gluten-free pie crust (it is not a pie crust mix, per se, as you still have to add several ingredients--it just pre-combines all the weird flours you have to buy for $8.99/cup into one $3.69 mix and is enough for two pies. Awesome.)
I came, I saw, I frangipaned. You're welcome.
Apple Frangipane With Maple Glaze
Ingredients
.JPG)
- Pie crust of your choice. I used the Glutino Gluten-Free Pantry Perfect Pie Crust Mix (which requires you to add baking powder, egg, butter, shortening, water, and vinegar). You can do whatever you'd like).
--- - 2 c almond flour/meal
- 2 TBS liquor of choice--dark rum or cognac would be good, I used Godiva chocolate liquor because THAT is what your girl keeps around for emergencies, apparently
- 1 stick of butter, cold and cut into TBS portions
- zest of 1 lemon
- juice of 1/2 lemon
- 1/3-1/2c honey
--- - 1 large or 2 small sweet apples, peeled and sliced thinly
- 2 TBS butter, melted
- 6 TBS maple syrup (the 100% real stuff--please do not let me find you using IHOP brand or some crap like that.)
- 1 tsp cinnamon
1. Preheat oven to 425. Whatever pie crust you are using should be cold, so if you made it yourself, put it in a pie or tart pan and let chill in freezer. Once it has chilled for about 20 minutes, poke fork holes all over it and cover the tips with either a wreath of tin foil or a pie-crust shield. Cook until crust is just turning golden brown, which will depend on the crust but will probably take about 12-15 minutes. Set aside to cool. Reduce oven heat to 375.
2. Combine almond flour, liquor, lemon zest, lemon juice, and honey (start with 1/3 c honey and proceed to step 3. If at the end of step 3 the frangipane is not sweet enough for you, add honey and mix until you like the taste.) A food processor or blender would be easiest, but if you do not have one then stirring vigorously will be just fine.
3. Cut in the butter one TBS at a time until a thick, gooey paste has formed--again, I did this in my food processor and it took about 1 minute, but you can do it the old-fashioned way with a pastry blender or potato masher. (If you want to add more honey, now is the time.) Set aside.
4. To make the glaze, mix together melted butter, maple syrup, and cinnamon. Put thinly-sliced apples in a bowl and toss with maple glaze.
5. Place the frangipane (almond mix) in the cooled pie crust and level off with a rubber spatula. Arrange soaked apple slices however you would like on top in a single layer. Pour remaining maple glaze evenly over the tart. You will probably have a few gooey apple slices left over--eat them!
6. Cook tart until center is firm to touch, it took my little oven about 40 minutes--just start checking around 30 minutes or so. Let cool, enjoy! For added sweetness, whip up a half batch of maple glaze and drizzle a few drops on pieces immediately before serving.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Same Love
I just love this sweet little video sent around by the good people at Upworthiest (actually--I don't know if they're good people, I just know that they put together one helluva great library of progressive videos with which I fill my rainy days off!)-- it speaks for itself, so I won't bother trying to add. Get out the tissues and remember that today is the LAST DAY to register to vote in many states!
Read More
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Live Your Best Life
I babysit for two of the sweetest children alive, E & W. After looking forward to his 4th birthday for about 9 months, W had an existential crisis the night before the Big Day.
Mom, to W: Aren't you so excited? Today is the last day you'll be three--tomorrow you'll be four!
W: But, Mom-- I loved three! I'm going to miss three!
Mom: Four is going to be so great! And when you're five you'll go to kindergarten, and when you're six you'll learn to read, and by the time you're seven you'll be able to ride a two-wheeler all by yourself ... which birthday do you think will be your favorite?
W: (crying) I think three was my favorite! And now it's gone. I'm going to miss three!
... thinks for a few seconds ... Mom, you're going to be 39 soon. Aren't you going to miss 38?
Around birthday time, I think we all get a little nostalgic--I take solace in the fact that I haven't had one year that wasn't better than the last, at least not yet. Thanks to everyone who made 26 so fun- on to 27!
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Butternut Squash "Spaghetti"
I thought about not blogging today. It seems strange to spend time thinking and writing about the banalities of butternut squash on a day with such looming significance.
I didn't know anyone who was in the either of the Towers that day, nor did I know anyone in lower Manhattan. Back then, the only people in my sleepy suburb who worked in the city were fire fighters and police officers, and so for our town the horror of the day grew more personal as time went by-- no one I knew had a parent who worked in the World Trade Center, but we all knew parents who went down to Ground Zero for weeks at a time, often unable to communicate with their families during those long shifts of sifting through the remains of what we knew. Our attempts at efficacy reflected our bizarre new reality: the blood drive organized by the senior class was cancelled when it became clear that there would be few survivors; instead we donated bagged lunches to the first responders and clean-up crews, who would be in harm's way indefinitely.
When I left New York to attend college in DC, I would spend four September 11ths feeling a strange guilt for not being in New York, not living out the grief I felt with the people closest to the loss. Perhaps most difficult for me was the strange brand of grief I watched take shape in the rest of the country, outside New York, where it was some twisted trend to "out-9/11" the person next to you in order to validate your grief. Five years after the attacks, there were still no words to name adequately the mourning we felt for the loss of our old world order, which left many who did not have the name of a lost loved one to mourn grasping for something that would make our sadness comprehensible. It wasn't enough just to have watched the crumbling of some 3,000 lives: soon, everyone had a story of someone they knew who had run out of Lower Manhattan, been in the Pentagon, or would have been on one of those flights, if not for some divine intervention. I never felt able to say to anyone but my roommate, who was also from a small suburb of the city, that I felt incredibly empty, that I still couldn't watch footage from the day without weeping, or that it was difficult to make it through this day every year. Not because any one thing had changed in my life, but because everything was, in some way, completely different.
And so today I write about butternut squash spaghetti. There is no link between this dish and this day, nor do I have a clever transition from the above emotions to the below recipe. It seems that this is what we do--note the date, feel the sadness, move on to the next topic.
---
Butternut Squash "Spaghetti"
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Ingredients
-- 1 butternut squash (a medium will serve 2), peeled
-- 3 cloves of garlic, minced
-- 1.5 TBS butter (olive oil would prob work also)
-- Fresh basil, to taste (optional)
-- Whatever tomato sauce you like (I love this smokey marinara)
Assembly
1. Using a julienne peeler (which are widely available for about $5 at most grocery stores--they look like a regular "Y" peeler with teeth), shred the skinned butternut until the seeds in the bulb are exposed. Do not make this difficult: hold the butternut vertically and move the julienne peeler down it. This will make "noodles." Collect them in a bowl.
2. Heat the butter until it is melted over medium heat in a saucepan big enough for your "pasta." Add the minced garlic and let that sizzle for 2-3 minutes.
3. Add the squash. Using tongs if you've got 'em and a spatula if you don't, move around the pasta so spread out the butter and garlic. Then, let it sit over medium-high heat for 10-13 minutes, turning occasionally so all the "noodles" get cooked. You'll know it's done when it has the consistency you like your pasta to be. Throw the basil in and let it wilt.
4. Top with your favorite tomato sauce and enjoy.
Read More
I didn't know anyone who was in the either of the Towers that day, nor did I know anyone in lower Manhattan. Back then, the only people in my sleepy suburb who worked in the city were fire fighters and police officers, and so for our town the horror of the day grew more personal as time went by-- no one I knew had a parent who worked in the World Trade Center, but we all knew parents who went down to Ground Zero for weeks at a time, often unable to communicate with their families during those long shifts of sifting through the remains of what we knew. Our attempts at efficacy reflected our bizarre new reality: the blood drive organized by the senior class was cancelled when it became clear that there would be few survivors; instead we donated bagged lunches to the first responders and clean-up crews, who would be in harm's way indefinitely.
When I left New York to attend college in DC, I would spend four September 11ths feeling a strange guilt for not being in New York, not living out the grief I felt with the people closest to the loss. Perhaps most difficult for me was the strange brand of grief I watched take shape in the rest of the country, outside New York, where it was some twisted trend to "out-9/11" the person next to you in order to validate your grief. Five years after the attacks, there were still no words to name adequately the mourning we felt for the loss of our old world order, which left many who did not have the name of a lost loved one to mourn grasping for something that would make our sadness comprehensible. It wasn't enough just to have watched the crumbling of some 3,000 lives: soon, everyone had a story of someone they knew who had run out of Lower Manhattan, been in the Pentagon, or would have been on one of those flights, if not for some divine intervention. I never felt able to say to anyone but my roommate, who was also from a small suburb of the city, that I felt incredibly empty, that I still couldn't watch footage from the day without weeping, or that it was difficult to make it through this day every year. Not because any one thing had changed in my life, but because everything was, in some way, completely different.
And so today I write about butternut squash spaghetti. There is no link between this dish and this day, nor do I have a clever transition from the above emotions to the below recipe. It seems that this is what we do--note the date, feel the sadness, move on to the next topic.
---
Butternut Squash "Spaghetti"
.JPG)
-- 1 butternut squash (a medium will serve 2), peeled
-- 3 cloves of garlic, minced
-- 1.5 TBS butter (olive oil would prob work also)
-- Fresh basil, to taste (optional)
-- Whatever tomato sauce you like (I love this smokey marinara)
Assembly
1. Using a julienne peeler (which are widely available for about $5 at most grocery stores--they look like a regular "Y" peeler with teeth), shred the skinned butternut until the seeds in the bulb are exposed. Do not make this difficult: hold the butternut vertically and move the julienne peeler down it. This will make "noodles." Collect them in a bowl.
2. Heat the butter until it is melted over medium heat in a saucepan big enough for your "pasta." Add the minced garlic and let that sizzle for 2-3 minutes.
3. Add the squash. Using tongs if you've got 'em and a spatula if you don't, move around the pasta so spread out the butter and garlic. Then, let it sit over medium-high heat for 10-13 minutes, turning occasionally so all the "noodles" get cooked. You'll know it's done when it has the consistency you like your pasta to be. Throw the basil in and let it wilt.
4. Top with your favorite tomato sauce and enjoy.
Monday, September 10, 2012
One Cake, Two Ways
This Monday is too beautiful for me to be inside blogging--so Ima get right to it: today, we're working with two versions of a hearty strawberry cake with buttercream icing. One is full of sugar, flour, and deliciousness; the other is for those interested in a sugar-free, gluten-free, almost-paleo treat. I will leave you to guess which is which:
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So--why two cakes? Earlier this summer, I was honored to bake the cake for my Aunt Tina's wedding, and though I'm sure everyone would have loved knowing their dessert qualified as "clean eating," we decided to go the traditional flour-sugar-butter route. My aunt and her now-husband, Larry, requested a strawberry cake with vanilla buttercream icing, and we went through several renditions before landing on this one, which turned out to be quite a keeper. A HUGE THANK YOU to my dear friend KefiKathleen, who offered up her childhood home and adult know-how to ensure that this mama-jamma made it from inspiration to fruition.
A few weeks later (still hung over from all the gluten-filled taste tests), I decided to see if I could make a healthier version of the nuptial confection. So I spent my morning puttering about in the kitchen, and came up with the below, which is not as "pow! that's strawberry!" as the wedding cake was, but it is a good just-sweet-enough cake that would be great for a brunch.
Full-o-flour Strawberry Cake
Ingredients (makes two 8-inch cake layers)
1. Preheat oven to 325. In a standing mixer, combine in this order the oil, sugar, eggs (one at a time), extract, and zest. Mix on low until completely mixed.
2. Combine flour and baking powder in a separate bowl. Prepare strawberry puree and have ready.
3. With the mixer on low, alternate adding the flour mixture and then the strawberry puree to the wet ingredients. Begin by gradually adding about 1/2 the flour, then 1/3 of the strawberries and repeat until you have combined everything, finishing with the puree (basically: flour twice, strawberry puree three times).
4. Pour into two greased eight-inch cake rounds. Start checking at 25 minutes--this is a dense batter, so it will almost definitely take 35-40 minutes to be completely done. They're done when you can stick a toothpick into the center and it comes out clean.
5. After cakes are removed from oven and cooled, ice 'em and eat 'em!
Gluten-free, Sugar-Free, Strawberry Breakfast Cake
Ingredients
1. Preheat oven to 325. Combine dry ingredients in a medium bowl.
2. Add wet ingredients--EXCEPT BERRIES AND MILK-- in whatever order you'd like. Mix until well combined.
3. Add the berries and mix in gently but completely.
4. Add milk, starting with 1/2 c and adding more if you need it, until you get to "cake batter" consistency. It should be moist and liquidy but not runny.
5. Pour into one greased 9-inch cake round. Bake for 30 minutes, or until inserted toothpick comes out clean.
6. While the cakes are cooling, beat coconut oil, honey, and lemon juice together with an electric mixer. Apply the icing IMMEDIATELY before serving-- this stuff will melt faster than you can say "holy sugar-free glaze."
Read More
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.JPG)
So--why two cakes? Earlier this summer, I was honored to bake the cake for my Aunt Tina's wedding, and though I'm sure everyone would have loved knowing their dessert qualified as "clean eating," we decided to go the traditional flour-sugar-butter route. My aunt and her now-husband, Larry, requested a strawberry cake with vanilla buttercream icing, and we went through several renditions before landing on this one, which turned out to be quite a keeper. A HUGE THANK YOU to my dear friend KefiKathleen, who offered up her childhood home and adult know-how to ensure that this mama-jamma made it from inspiration to fruition.
A few weeks later (still hung over from all the gluten-filled taste tests), I decided to see if I could make a healthier version of the nuptial confection. So I spent my morning puttering about in the kitchen, and came up with the below, which is not as "pow! that's strawberry!" as the wedding cake was, but it is a good just-sweet-enough cake that would be great for a brunch.
Full-o-flour Strawberry Cake
Ingredients (makes two 8-inch cake layers)
- 3 c flour
- 2 c sugar
- 3 tsp baking powder
- 3/4 c vegetable oil
- 1 1/2 c pureed strawberries
- 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
- 1 tsp lemon zest
- 4 large eggs
- whatever buttercream icing you like best, homemade or store-bought
1. Preheat oven to 325. In a standing mixer, combine in this order the oil, sugar, eggs (one at a time), extract, and zest. Mix on low until completely mixed.
2. Combine flour and baking powder in a separate bowl. Prepare strawberry puree and have ready.
3. With the mixer on low, alternate adding the flour mixture and then the strawberry puree to the wet ingredients. Begin by gradually adding about 1/2 the flour, then 1/3 of the strawberries and repeat until you have combined everything, finishing with the puree (basically: flour twice, strawberry puree three times).
4. Pour into two greased eight-inch cake rounds. Start checking at 25 minutes--this is a dense batter, so it will almost definitely take 35-40 minutes to be completely done. They're done when you can stick a toothpick into the center and it comes out clean.
5. After cakes are removed from oven and cooled, ice 'em and eat 'em!
Gluten-free, Sugar-Free, Strawberry Breakfast Cake
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 c almond flour
- 1/4 c corn starch
- 2.5 tsp baking powder
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 TBS vanilla extract
- 1/2 stick butter, melted
- 3 TBS honey
- 1/4 cup coconut flour (or 1/2 c shredded coconut)
- 4 eggs, beaten
- 1 cup of berries, cut small
- 1/2- 1 c milk
--- - 1/2 c coconut oil (NOT melted)
- 1/4-1/3 c honey
- 3 TBS lemon juice
1. Preheat oven to 325. Combine dry ingredients in a medium bowl.
2. Add wet ingredients--EXCEPT BERRIES AND MILK-- in whatever order you'd like. Mix until well combined.
3. Add the berries and mix in gently but completely.
4. Add milk, starting with 1/2 c and adding more if you need it, until you get to "cake batter" consistency. It should be moist and liquidy but not runny.
5. Pour into one greased 9-inch cake round. Bake for 30 minutes, or until inserted toothpick comes out clean.
6. While the cakes are cooling, beat coconut oil, honey, and lemon juice together with an electric mixer. Apply the icing IMMEDIATELY before serving-- this stuff will melt faster than you can say "holy sugar-free glaze."
Sunday, July 29, 2012
...And They're Off!
It is truly the most wonderful time of the year!
Every year my brother JetSet Kef and I take off on vacation together, usually in the Augustish part of the summer. Inspired by our Mediterranean brethren, the Italians, we have come to refer to this tradition as Ferragosto.
Below, please find some highlights of Ferragosto through the years:
Read More
Every year my brother JetSet Kef and I take off on vacation together, usually in the Augustish part of the summer. Inspired by our Mediterranean brethren, the Italians, we have come to refer to this tradition as Ferragosto.
Below, please find some highlights of Ferragosto through the years:
2009 was Kanafe and Catastrophe. JSK was living in Ramallah, so I scidaddled over there for some fun in the sun.
 |
| We also bid a fond farewell to a dear friend, the Burka of the Beach. May her memory be eternal. |
---
2010 was the year of the Berry Loop. We met in the Pacific Northwest to explore the finer points of slower, organic American living. Although the food was enough to keep us in that part of the country forever, we grew tired of people asking us to slow down our talking and driving. East Cost for life!
----
In 2011 we actually had TWO vacations. First, a trip to the motherland, Greece!
 |
| At dinner in this restaurant, Cooking up Kefi was born. Thank you, Lindos! |
 |
| Later that week, JSK and I got up to our usual shenanigans + wine and traditional Greek dancing. The next morning was less awesome. |
After Greece, we jetted off to Mozambique (where else?) for some scuba diving and life-changing scenery.
 | |
| Just rotate your laptop. It's really a cute pic. |
------
This year, it's a return to Greece. See you in two weeks, folks!
Monday, April 16, 2012
Greek Easter 2012 Preview
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| The table, still missing a few dishes |
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| Peep-shaped butter dish, courtesy of Mama Kef. |
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| Sadly, I did not make the cheese. I did make the jam. |
 | |
| I also made a gluten-free version of this- yum and a half. |
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| Spanakopita |
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| The 10 lb pastitsio. |
I'll post specific stories and recipes in the weeks coming, including reports from Beirut, where JetSet Kef held his own Greek Easter feast.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
The Marathon Begins
The first spanakopita of Greek Easter 2012 has just gone into the oven, which gives me a second to pause and think about why I spend an entire weekend every year covered in olive oil and spinach.
There are two main reasons that keep me looking forward to this time each year. The first is that Orthodox Easter is usually 1-2 weeks behind Roman Easter, which reminds us that Jesus was, in fact, a socialist and that he ascribed to the more relaxed lifestyle of the Southern Mediterranean and took his sweet time rising from the dead (I mean, wouldn't you?). The second (and more legit) reason I so look forward to Greek Easter is that it brings back all the Keftastic memories of the times my family was less scattered across this green earth.
As a kid, we would squeeze into the Camry (JetSet Kef on the driver's side with his GameBoy, BabyKef in the middle annoying the living bejesus out of her siblings, and yours truly trying desperately not to get car sick on the passenger's side) and drive to New Jersey. There, we would find a diner that had been transformed from a bustling business to an inviting living room--the tables were rearranged to accommodate what seemed like every Greek in New Jersey, and for that one day, traditional Greek music played louder than the Whitney Houston coming from the juke boxes. It was always nice to see my grandfather's friends and eat something other than the diner's famous "Chicken in a Basket"--but what I REALLY looked forward to was what we called "the red egg game."
You can read more about the game here-- I gotta go get the spanakopita out of the oven. I leave you with a picture of my grandfather on one of his happiest days, when my brother convened the first KefiFamily Greek Easter in years. We'll miss my grandfather this year, but I know he is watching with approval and ranting about Barack Obama the Communist from Heaven. Σας αγαπάμε, παππού!
Read More
There are two main reasons that keep me looking forward to this time each year. The first is that Orthodox Easter is usually 1-2 weeks behind Roman Easter, which reminds us that Jesus was, in fact, a socialist and that he ascribed to the more relaxed lifestyle of the Southern Mediterranean and took his sweet time rising from the dead (I mean, wouldn't you?). The second (and more legit) reason I so look forward to Greek Easter is that it brings back all the Keftastic memories of the times my family was less scattered across this green earth.
As a kid, we would squeeze into the Camry (JetSet Kef on the driver's side with his GameBoy, BabyKef in the middle annoying the living bejesus out of her siblings, and yours truly trying desperately not to get car sick on the passenger's side) and drive to New Jersey. There, we would find a diner that had been transformed from a bustling business to an inviting living room--the tables were rearranged to accommodate what seemed like every Greek in New Jersey, and for that one day, traditional Greek music played louder than the Whitney Houston coming from the juke boxes. It was always nice to see my grandfather's friends and eat something other than the diner's famous "Chicken in a Basket"--but what I REALLY looked forward to was what we called "the red egg game."
You can read more about the game here-- I gotta go get the spanakopita out of the oven. I leave you with a picture of my grandfather on one of his happiest days, when my brother convened the first KefiFamily Greek Easter in years. We'll miss my grandfather this year, but I know he is watching with approval and ranting about Barack Obama the Communist from Heaven. Σας αγαπάμε, παππού!
Saturday, December 24, 2011
On the Eve of an Extravaganza: Gluten-Free, Sugar-Free Corn Casserole
Upon meeting the Kefi family
for the first time, a friend remarked, "Well, you sure don't come from
simple stock, do you?" We're a spirited, complicated, opinionated bunch
more or less made for a reality television show (except, sadly, our
schticks are real, no scripted).
This is perhaps most apparent at the Christmas Day meal, when the extended Kefi family gets together and we break bread--except at this table we have at least four loaves: a sugar-free loaf, a gluten-free loaf, an all-sugar, all-gluten loaf, and a loaf of plain, white-ass Wonder Bread. Try the flow-chart below to understand complicated eating patterns of the greater Kefi family at large.
For the past nine years, the Kefi family has celebrated two holidays on December 25th: the birth of Jesus and the annual Extravaganza. My assumption is that you have the skinny on Jesus, His birth, and His life's work. So, I'll use this space to tell you about the Extravaganza.
On a snowy Christmas in 2002 (JetSet Kef interjection: "a VERY snowy Christmas"), our family friends (known here as the B's) were scheduled to come to Casa Kefi for dinner. Mama Kef is especially afraid of the snow and called to warn the B's that they ought to stay home--only to find out that the B's had already been out all morning searching for an open diner. So, despite many strenuous warnings from Mama Kef, they fought the white-out conditions to attend the Inaugural Christmas Extravaganza.
Ten courses, two helpings, 11 people in food comas, and a viewing of Love Actually later, we realized that the snow had accumulated and getting back home would be impossible for our guests. Luckily, the B's came prepared with pajamas, and so the extravaganza raged on into the night (and by "night," I mean until about 830). By the time we woke up the next morning, Grandma B had scrubbed the kitchen floor, Donna B had made the coffee, Lauren had already drank her first cup of coffee, and Grandpa B had his coat on and was ready to go home.
Though we haven't had a snow-induced sleep-over since, we have maintained many traditions throughout the 8 subsequent Extravaganzas: we don't dare sit at the table until Mama Kef tells us the seating arrangements; we have Brotherhood Winery Holiday Mulling Wine before dinner (to take the edge off, naturaly); we eat, then we sit, then we coffee, then we sit, then we open presents, then we dessert, then we sit, then we go; we open presents one at a time in a circle; we add a "Christmas Miracle" each year (which is a little bit like the Festivus Airing of Grievances, except more fun and less aggressive; we don't educate our asses (you read that right); and often we have a group of funny Frenchies join us, just for kicks (JetSet Kef: "No really-- they're French, so it's funny").
Today, I bring you this year's Christmas Miracle: a dish other than salad that every single person at the Kefi Christmas table could eat. It's meat-free, gluten-free, AND sugar-free corn casserole! Merry Christmas and enjoy!
Meat-Free, Gluten-Free, Sugar-Free Corn Casserole
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This is perhaps most apparent at the Christmas Day meal, when the extended Kefi family gets together and we break bread--except at this table we have at least four loaves: a sugar-free loaf, a gluten-free loaf, an all-sugar, all-gluten loaf, and a loaf of plain, white-ass Wonder Bread. Try the flow-chart below to understand complicated eating patterns of the greater Kefi family at large.
For the past nine years, the Kefi family has celebrated two holidays on December 25th: the birth of Jesus and the annual Extravaganza. My assumption is that you have the skinny on Jesus, His birth, and His life's work. So, I'll use this space to tell you about the Extravaganza.
On a snowy Christmas in 2002 (JetSet Kef interjection: "a VERY snowy Christmas"), our family friends (known here as the B's) were scheduled to come to Casa Kefi for dinner. Mama Kef is especially afraid of the snow and called to warn the B's that they ought to stay home--only to find out that the B's had already been out all morning searching for an open diner. So, despite many strenuous warnings from Mama Kef, they fought the white-out conditions to attend the Inaugural Christmas Extravaganza.
Ten courses, two helpings, 11 people in food comas, and a viewing of Love Actually later, we realized that the snow had accumulated and getting back home would be impossible for our guests. Luckily, the B's came prepared with pajamas, and so the extravaganza raged on into the night (and by "night," I mean until about 830). By the time we woke up the next morning, Grandma B had scrubbed the kitchen floor, Donna B had made the coffee, Lauren had already drank her first cup of coffee, and Grandpa B had his coat on and was ready to go home.
Though we haven't had a snow-induced sleep-over since, we have maintained many traditions throughout the 8 subsequent Extravaganzas: we don't dare sit at the table until Mama Kef tells us the seating arrangements; we have Brotherhood Winery Holiday Mulling Wine before dinner (to take the edge off, naturaly); we eat, then we sit, then we coffee, then we sit, then we open presents, then we dessert, then we sit, then we go; we open presents one at a time in a circle; we add a "Christmas Miracle" each year (which is a little bit like the Festivus Airing of Grievances, except more fun and less aggressive; we don't educate our asses (you read that right); and often we have a group of funny Frenchies join us, just for kicks (JetSet Kef: "No really-- they're French, so it's funny").
Today, I bring you this year's Christmas Miracle: a dish other than salad that every single person at the Kefi Christmas table could eat. It's meat-free, gluten-free, AND sugar-free corn casserole! Merry Christmas and enjoy!
Meat-Free, Gluten-Free, Sugar-Free Corn Casserole
Ingredients
- 1 cup milk (soy works just as well-- but adjust honey if it's already sweetened soy!)
- 2 Tbsp. cornstarch
- 2 Tbsp. butter (or coconut oil)
- 1 can each whole-kernal and sweet corn, drained
- 1/4 c honey
- 2 tsp. vanilla
- 2 eggs, slightly beaten
Directions:
1. Preheat
oven to 350 degrees. On medium heat, whisk milk and cornstarch in a
small saucepan and simmer until slightly thick and
creamy. It is important that you whisk constantly. The mixture will
get thick all at once-- butter and whisk until melted. Remove
from stove and let cool slightly.
2. Pour drained corn
into a mixing bowl. Once the milk/cornstarch mixture has cooled off a
bit, mix into the corn. Add honey , eggs, and vanilla. Pour into a
greased casserole dish.
3. Bake for 30-40 minutes until casserole is set and bubbling. Cool slightly before serving.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Gratitude Week at Cooking Up Kefi
Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world*, I think of all the things I am thankful for. With 2012 drawing near and the news growing ever more doom-and-gloom, this can be easier said than done.
I worry, sometimes, that showing thanks is something we do only when were prompted to-- during those last few minutes of yoga, as we walk out of stores, or while our parents are watching-- but not something most of us do because we're actually, you know, thankful. The number of times I see people interact with other humans--in settings from cafes to hospitals--without expressing even a morsel of gratitude is troubling. And let me tell you--if we're not thanking the people who keep us caffeinated and handle our body fluids, then times are tougher than even Lou Dobbs could have thought.
It's more than just transactional thanks that have gone away--we seem to have lost a feeling of gratefulness. Were it not for Turkey Day every November, I wonder how many of us would take even one pass around a dinner table to list just one thing we're grateful for. Even Thanksgiving has become, ironically, an opportunity to identify things we are decidedly NOT thankful for: the traffic we're forced to endure to travel to our family, the pounds we will undoubtedly pack on from the excess of food cooked for and served to us, the stress of dealing with people who, for better or worse, know us intimately enough to push our buttons. If I were learning English in America right now, I might get the feeling that "thanks" meant any number of things other than "I am grateful you just did that." We use the word to say "I know you'll do this for me" (as in: "Can you be sure this gets done today? Thanks."), to end conversations ("OK great, thanks."), to make snarky social media statements ("#thankssomuch"), and as a closing to annoying emails so overpunctuated we can't even spell the whole damn word out ("THNX GUYS!!!!!!!!") --but how often do we just express a good ol' plainjane, "thanks"?
On my less cynical days, I can believe that we haven't, in fact, lost the feeling of gratitude--we've just gotten to be very bad at showing it. And for that reason, I bring to you: Gratitude Week (da da da dahhhhh!) Nothing fancy--just a chance for me to share some of the things that I am grateful for (big and small). And, hopefully, a chance for all 4 of my readers to share, too--because I'm tired of feeling like I'm talking to myself (big shout out to Jillian, who increased by readership by 33%!).
So--this week I'll be writing about the things I'm grateful for: running, cooking, family, finding a calling, and making a difference (among other things). What are you thankful for? Tell me in the comments!
*Eternal gratitude to Hugh Grant and everyone associated with Love Actually, an instant Kefi family holiday classic
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Biking Up Kefi
Not too much cooking this week- I'm bombarded with tests, papers, and presentations. However, I came across this little piece and it just SCREAMED Kefi-- so I had to share with my readers (all three of you!).
I hope you all find a little Kefi during this beautiful weekend!
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I hope you all find a little Kefi during this beautiful weekend!
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