Hello, moment.

Potatoes and Love: Some Reflections

I am deeply saddened by the death of Nora Ephron. She was my greatest literary and theatrical hero, and a very important part of my life, though I never had the pleasure of meeting her in person. Many people who are better writers than I am have and continue to publish great tributes to her life, and I urge you to read those. As for me, I've written about her mashed potatoes.

"I have friends who begin with pasta, and friends who begin with rice, but whenever I fall in love, I begin with potatoes."

So begins an essay by the incomparable Nora Ephron, her contribution to a book entitled Alone In The Kitchen With An Eggplant: Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone. In it are essays from notable food writers like Marcella Hazan, M.F.K. Fisher, and Laurie Colwin. My copy is well worn from years of reading and cooking from it. Almost all of the essays include recipes, and Nora's has three very good ones for potatoes, so I urge you to read it, and use it. You won't regret it.

Her mashed potatoes are my favorite. I have written about these potatoes before; after all, potatoes are my ultimate comfort food, and her way is the only way that I make them. They are rich with heavy cream and melted butter and are the best way to cure the blues, which is splendid because today, I have the blues.

For mashed potatoes: Put 1 large (or 2 small) potatoes in a large pot of salted water and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for at least 20 minutes, until tender. Drain and place the potatoes back into the pot and shake over low heat to eliminate excess moisture. Peel. Put through a potato ricer and immediately add 1 tablespoon heavy cream and as much melted butter and salt and pepper as you feel like. Eat immediately. Serves one.

A life without salt

My history with salt is, like most everyone's, a long and storied one, from the corned beef and cabbage of my Mother's St. Patrick's Day table to the Pancetta that I ate at A Voce on recent trip to New York City, a dish so brilliantly earthy and sweetly decadent, this pork belly paired with figs, crushed pistachios, and just enough balsamic, that Andrew Carmellini himself must weep with joy at every bite. I love fleur de sel caramels and bacon and Chinese takeout and until recently had eaten it all with abandon.

And then I was diagnosed with salt sensitivity, and that was the end of all that. I'll spare you the details for now, which are boring and mostly incidental to the story, I am sorry to say. The story, as I'm sure you must have figured out by now, is that I had to stop eating salt, which means that I'd have to start cooking from scratch, which is a dreadfully unwelcome prospect to a person who thoroughly enjoys having her food prepared for her. So I didn't throw myself into it with abandon, no, it took me almost two years to accept my fate.

The short of it is that I finally did, and now I'm navigating my way through the perimeters of several grocery stores every week, cooking almost every meal, and doing it all without salt. Mostly. The biggest surprise is that if you do it right, food is still delicious, and though I haven't felt brave enough to venture out to a restaurant and ask the chef to prepare a dish without salt, doing it myself at home has been a bit of a revelation, and somehow, I think I'll be okay without that pork belly from now on.

Here I present without fanfare some highlights from the past week's breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and snacks, not all healthy (cupcakes will always be welcome in my life), but all delicious, and every bit low-sodium:

01. roast potatoes 02. strawberry cupcake 03. roast brussels sprouts & grapes 04. black beans, fresh salsa, & sour cream nachos 05. strawberries & hard boiled eggs 06. Sophie Dahl's cinnamon roast peaches with Jeni's hummingbird cake ice cream 07. frosted mini-wheats with unsweetened almond/coconut milk 08. rotini with olive oil, sun-dried tomatoes, and lemon pepper 09. baked lemon pepper catfish & boiled potatoes with butter

Everything I ever needed to know about peaches, I learned from Sophie Dahl

The way that Sophie Dahl writes about food is kind of sexy, isn't it? Take the peach, for example, so sweetly described in her newest book, Miss Dahl's Voluptuous Delights:

Roasting has the same magic culinary effect as soaking. What before might have been a bit withered and cross-looking, under a pat of butter and the oven's fierce gaze becomes full and heavy-bodied with flavor.

And these peaches are completely sexy, because brown sugar and butter (very small amounts, I promise) turn their juices into syrup, and it just transports you, I swear it does. I love peaches, and I roast everything lately, have I mentioned that? If it goes in the oven, I'm going to try roasting it. Roasting is my favorite way to enjoy Brussels sprouts, potatoes, grapes, and just about anything else that will stand up to roasting. And now, peaches.

This isn't a food blog (except when it is, I suppose), but I do read cookbooks as a hobby. It's something I've always done, even when I wasn't cooking for myself. I also watch The Cooking Channel. I have no excuse, food is fascinating to me and I think about it almost constantly, especially now that I have to be more careful with what I eat. I was reading Miss Dahl's Voluptuous Delights last week, and this was one of those rare moments when I already had everything on hand, so I decided to roast peaches in the middle of a Thursday afternoon, and they were so delicious, so brilliant, that I'm going to share the recipe with you.

This was originally a recipe for Roast Cinnamon Peaches with Vanilla Yogurt, but I don't like yogurt. I tried, and it just didn't happen. So instead, I had my peaches with a small scoop of Jeni's Hummingbird Cake ice cream instead. No regrets.

If you want to make it the way Sophie intended, add vanilla Greek yogurt, but you won't be sorry if you decide to go with the ice cream instead. Here's the recipe:

Sophie Dahl's Cinnamon Roast Peaches with Vanilla Yogurt Ice Cream

Ingredients:

4 peaches, ripe but firm

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 tablespoon light brown sugar

1 tablespoon butter

Ice Cream (vanilla would be best here, but whatever you have)

Method:

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Wash and halve the peaches, removing the pits, and place in a small roasting pan. Sprinkle each peach half with a little cinnamon and brown sugar and dot with the butter. Cook for 10 - 15 minutes.

Sophie tells us this recipe will feed two greedy people, but one peach (two halves) was enough for me. Dish it up and add a small scoop of ice cream (or a bit of vanilla Greek yogurt if you're into that kind of thing). Eat immediately.

Music:

The Ditty Bops - Sister Kate