FOOD ON THE FOOD

Husband's Grilled Chicken

We like to cook a few meals ourselves on vacation to make sure we eat something that's good for us once in a while. Otherwise, it's just ice cream 24/7, with a few breaks in between for fried fish and doughnuts.

Husband was craving grilled chicken, so he concocted this marinade while I was sleeping late one morning. There's nothing like waking up at 9 a.m. to sizzling bacon and dinner half completed. I grilled up that chicken the following night while sipping a gin and tonic. With buttered green beans and corn on the cob, the kids were all smiles!

Husband's Grilled Chicken     

This recipe is totally customizable. Swap out the herbs for what you have on hand. Use different vinegar. Use lemon juice instead of lime. Just let the chicken marinate at least overnight so the flavors can penetrate.

16 chicken drumsticks and wings
1 cup rice wine vinegar (unseasoned)
1 small red onion, diced
4 scallions, light parts chopped, dark green parts cut into 2-inch pieces
3 garlic gloves, chopped
1 small bunch cilantro, stems removed
3 tablespoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
Juice of 1 lime
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon hot sauce
3 cups vegetable oil or olive oil

Rinse the chicken parts and set aside to dry.

For the marinade, purée all but the 2-inch pieces of scallions and oil in the blender. Through the hole in the lid, add the oil in a steady stream and blend until emulsified. Pour into a large gallon-sized storage bag (do yourself a favor and set the bag in a large bowl beforehand so it doesn't tip and spill all over the floor). Add the reserved scallion pieces and the chicken to the bag. Seal and set in the refrigerator for 1 to 2 days, jostling periodically to redistribute the chicken and marinade.

Over hot coals, grill the chicken uncovered until nicely browned on all sides and cooked through. The time depends on how hot your fire is. I did about 20 minutes for drumsticks, turning every 5 minutes or so, and about 12 minutes for the wings. You want an internal temperature of 160°F, but you're not going to find a thermometer at your rental house, and you're not going to go out and buy one, either. The best thing to do is to cut into the thickest part of one of the larger pieces to make sure that the meat is cooked all the way to the bone. If the skin browns before the meat is cooked through, just move those pieces toward the outside of the grill to continue cooking over indirect heat. Enjoy!

The Long, Sandy Road of Marriage

Our wedding anniversary is approaching, it would seem. Every year, the conversation goes something like this:

Him: Our anniversary is coming up, right?

Me: Oh my gosh. Is it?

Him: I think it's next week.

Me: What day?

Him: The 27th?

Me: Nope, that's my sister's birthday.

Him: The 28th?

Me: Hmmm…no. Maybe the 29th? Do we have it written down somewhere? It was definitely in the summer.

We should probably make a bigger deal about anniversaries, maybe throw a few fireworks out the window or something. After all, living with someone for 13 years and not murdering them is a worthy accomplishment. (Fifteen years if you count the time we were living in sin.) (Twenty years if you count just the sin.)

In some ways, it's a miracle we can coexist in the same space. He's a morning person. I don't speak until noon. He freaks out if there's too much food in the refrigerator while I'm not happy unless the food is physically cascading off the shelves when we open the door. He requires Arctic temperatures at all times to function, while I get frostbite if the thermostat dips below 70 F. He would install an air conditioner directly into his pants if he could. The heat and humidity this summer are killing him.

The long haul of marriage isn't always easy. Even when you still love the person, it's sometimes hard to continue to let yourself be loved. Especially when the person doesn't love you for the things you think he should love you for, but instead insists on loving other different things and you can't make any sense of it whatsoever.

We don't make a big deal about anniversaries, but we do make a big deal about our family Cape vacation we take every year. I've never linked the two events in my mind before, but we should. The place we rent is in the same town where we got married. We always go in July, which is the same month we got married (I'm pretty sure). We didn't plan it that way, but that's how it always seems to work out.

That vacation is the best time of the whole year: swimming, sandcastles, sea creatures, doughnuts, BLTs, lobster rolls, fried fish, ice cream, books, outdoor showers, bike-riding, mini-golf, more ice cream. And, of course, our two sweet boys. There's nothing we could possibly plan for our anniversary that's better than all that.

I'm Back!

Whoops! Sorry about my long absence there. It looks like my "I'll be on vacation for a week" post never posted. Probably because I never wrote it. The elusive post was on my "to do" list along with many, many other things I was supposed to do before we left, which also didn't happen. None of them were crucial to me enjoying my vacation, as it turns out, but the lists still demand to be made and agonized over.

I do feel a little bad for leaving you in the lurch, Internet. I know how much you worry. To make it up to you, I'm going to make a list of all the ways I plan to make it up to you. Are you ready?

1. Make a list of all the ways I plan to make it up to them.

2. Where are you going? Sit back down and make that list!

3. Make a list of all the other things I should be doing. Like laundry. Always laundry.

4. Ignore both lists.

5. Make icebox cake instead.

 

Fired Up

We just returned from our Fourth of July weekend, which spanned several states and left me unattractively matted with sunscreen, chlorine, and bug spray, scabbed with poison ivy and mosquito bites, but a smile imprinted across my sunburned face.

Why so happy? Because summer is awesome. And my book is ready for preorders. Want a peek?


I know winter food is probably the last thing on your mind, but you have to admit: After two weeks of blistering ninety-five-degree heat, a snow cone is sounding pretty good right now, isn't it?

Wintersweet can be preordered through all of the usual suspects—your favorite indie bookstore, Powell's, Barnes & Noble, Amazon—but here's another brilliant idea. If you buy it through my local bookstore, Back Pages Books in Waltham, I'll sign it before we ship it off. Just click here and then write what you want the inscription to read where it says "Order comments" (or just leave me to my own devices). Then we'll get it out as soon as it's available, which will be sometime in October. Back Pages is also hosting my book launch party on Friday, October 25 at 7 pm, so mark your calendars if you like food and books! More on that later.

Meanwhile, extra credit goes to anyone who can tell me what that dessert is up there on the cover.

Mint Stracciatella Ice Cream

I've spent a fair bit of time over the past few weeks helping to get the kids' school garden cleaned up and productive. A lot of the weeding involved removing mint bent on world domination. I thought of saving it to make pesto, but it was the wrong kind of mint. This tasted more like peppermint. While peppermint pasta doesn't appeal, I couldn't see throwing all of that perfectly good mint into the compost. Plus all that weeding makes you hot and sweaty. Soon I was craving something cool and refreshing. And minty.

Light bulb!

Mint chocolate chip was always a favorite flavor of mine growing up, but I'd never made it at home. Turns out, there's nothing to it. Tear up the mint leaves and steep them in hot milk until cool, strain out the greenery, and proceed with the usual steps. Drizzling some melted chocolate over the churned mixture as you pack it into a container to freeze gives you instant chocolate chips (you get to use your favorite chocolate, too). It's a nice reward for an honest partial-day's work.

Mint Stracciatella Ice Cream     

I make my ice cream the old-fashioned way: with organic raw eggs. You are not required to do the same. If you're worried about salmonella, your options are many: Use pasteurized eggs instead. Or leave out the eggs entirely for a very serviceable Philadelphia-style ice cream. Or pull out your favorite cooked custard-style ice cream cookbook (like David Lebovitz's The Perfect Scoop, for example) and modify this recipe using egg yolks and a thermometer. Or pull out your favorite cornstarch-based, egg-free, gelato-style ice cream cookbook (like Jeni Britton Bauer's Jeni's Splendid Ice Cream at Home) and modify, modify, modify. It's your kitchen after all.

1 cup mint leaves (or more), packed
1-1/2 cups milk
2 large eggs
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1-1/2 cups heavy cream
3 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped

Tear up the mint leaves and add them to a small saucepan with the milk. Heat the milk until little bubbles form around the edges. Remove the pot from the heat and let it sit until cool. Refrigerate until ready to use (the longer it sits, the more flavor becomes infused). Strain the mixture into a medium bowl, pressing on the leaves to extract as much liquid as possible. Discard the leaves.

In a large bowl, whisk the eggs for 1 to 2 minutes. Whisk in the sugar a little at a time, then whisk for 1 minute more. Pour in the cream and minty milk, and whisk for another minute until the sugar is dissolved. Freeze in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions (usually spin for 25 minutes).

While the ice cream is churning, heat the chopped chocolate on top of a double boiler (if you don't have one, improvise your own by setting a metal bowl atop a smallish saucepan with an inch of simmering water; the bottom of the bowl should not touch the water). Stir the chocolate until melted and smooth, 1 to 2 minutes.

Transfer the churned ice cream mixture into a freezer-safe container in layers, messily alternating big spoonfuls of soft ice cream with drizzlings of melted chocolate. Freeze until firm, at least 8 hours.