Shepherd’s Pie Recipe

December 30, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

“Breeep, breeep, BREEEP!” The sharp piercing staccato of our fire alarm fills the airspace. Big Papa and I are making Shepherd’s Pie from scratch and setting off the fire alarm is part of our annual tradition.

For each of the five Christmas seasons we’ve been a couple, Shepherd’s Pie has been on the menu. I got the idea since Big Papa is a ‘Shepherd.’ Now that I’m his Missus, I’m a Shepherd too. I searched many blogs and scoured cooking sites reading recipes and trying to find the one with glowing reviews. Gourmet Magazine, February 2001, Braised-Lamb Shank Shepherd’s Pie with Creamed Spinach was the winner.

This particular Shepherd’s Pie takes an entire day to create. The dish calls for several layers: mashed potatoes, creamed spinach, roasted carrots, and gravy. Mid-way through the day, our kitchen is piled a mile-high with pots and dirty dishes. It’s hard to believe all this mess will result in a truly amazing meal. Six hours of work later, all this divine deliciousness will land in one baking dish.

Big Papa helps. He picks off the pieces of lamb after it’s been roasted three times. Yes, three times. The roasting is part of the process which inevitably sets off the fire alarm. We laugh about the alarm and, truthfully, something would feel amiss without it.

A few herbs from our winter garden add backyard flavor: thyme and rosemary and sage (though sage is not listed in the recipe). Despite the prep being labor-intensive, it’s a relaxing way to spend the day. We open a bottle of champagne to drink while cooking and take breaks to open gifts or make phone calls to family.

Making Shepherd’s Pie for the Christmas holiday is one of the first traditions Big Papa and I started together. I like feeling a small connection to ‘shepherds’ who have come before us and shepherds around the world. Last fall, when we toured Tibet, we saw many shepherds high in the Himalayas herding sheep and yak. Stopping at one mountain pass, two shepherd boys approached us. Our guide, Tenpa translated for us and we told the boys our ancestors, many generations ago, were also shepherds.

As our Shepherd’s Pie bakes, it fills the Urban Cabin with a wonderful aroma. When it’s ready to eat, we light candles and sit in our cozy, deep red dining room to enjoy this meal. Big Papa picks out a good wine from our “cellar” – aka the dirt floor basement of the Urban Cabin. Maggie, the cat, sidles up to the table. We talk about Shepherd’s Pie making past. Remember last year when…each year has its own unique story.

I am completely at peace. Despite several challenges this year, we are so fortunate to be able to enjoy such simple pleasures: the Urban Cabin, a good meal and each other.

Braised-Lamb Shank Shepherd’s Pie with Creamed Spinach

Makes 6 generous servings
Active time: 1 hour
Total time: 5-1/2 hours

Ingredients

5-1/2 pounds large lamb shanks (4 large)
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 small onions, trimmed and quartered do not peel)
1/2 cup fresh thyme sprigs
1/2 cup fresh rosemary sprigs
1/2 cup dry white wine
1-1/4 cups beef broth
1-1/4 cups water
3 pounds russet (baking) potatoes (6)

1-1/4 to 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
3/4 cup whole milk
5 medium carrots, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
Creamed spinach
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Special equipment: a ricer

Preparation
Prepare lamb:

Preheat oven to 450°F.
Put lamb shanks in a large metal roasting pan, then rub with oil and season with salt and pepper. Arrange onion wedges around lamb. Roast lamb in middle of oven 40 minutes. Turn shanks over, scatter with herb sprigs, and roast 40 minutes more.
Pour wine, broth, and water into roasting pan. Cover pan tightly with foil and braise lamb until tender, 45 minutes to 1 hour. Transfer shanks to a plate and remove and discard skins from onions. Pour cooking liquid (including onions) into a large glass measure (do not clean roasting pan).

Prepare potatoes and boil carrots while lamb roasts:

Pierce each potato once with a fork and bake on rack in lower third of oven until cooked through, 45 to 50 minutes.
Cool potatoes 10 minutes, then halve lengthwise and scoop out flesh. Force warm potatoes through ricer into a bowl. Stir in salt, milk, and pepper to taste.
Cook carrots in boiling salted water until tender, about 10 minutes. Rinse under cold running water to stop cooking.

Make gravy:

Skim fat from cooking liquid (you’ll have about 2 1/2 cups broth). Whisk together 1 cup broth and flour in a large bowl to make a thin paste, then whisk in remaining broth (including onions). Set roasting pan across 2 burners and pour broth mixture into pan. Boil over moderate heat, whisking, until thickened, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and season with salt and pepper.
Cut lamb meat from bones, then tear meat into bite-size pieces. Stir meat into gravy.

Assemble and bake pie:

Reduce oven to 350°F.
Spoon lamb-shank mixture into a 12- by 3-inch oval gratin dish or a 2 1/2- to 3-quart shallow baking dish, spreading evenly. Scatter carrots over lamb, then top with creamed spinach, spreading evenly. Top spinach with mashed potatoes, spreading evenly to edges of dish to cover filling completely. Make swirl patterns on surface of potatoes with back of spoon, then drizzle with melted butter.
Put baking dish in a foil-lined shallow (1-inch-deep) baking pan to catch drips and bake until top is golden and filling is bubbling, about 1 hour.

Cooks’ notes:

Lamb shanks can be made 1 day ahead of assembling shepherd’s pie and chilled, covered. Bring to room temperature before proceeding.
Mashed potatoes can be made 1 day ahead of assembling shepherd’s pie and chilled, covered. Bring to room temperature before proceeding.
Shepherd’s pie can be assembled (before being drizzled with melted butter) 1 day ahead and chilled, covered. Let stand at room temperature 1 hour before drizzling with butter and baking.

Creamed Spinach

Makes 4 (side dish) servings
Start to finish: 30 min

Ingredients

1-1/2 lb baby spinach
1/2 small onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons warm milk
2 tablespoons freshly grated parmesan
1/2 teaspoon salt
Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg

Preparation

Cook spinach in 1 inch of boiling salted water in a large pot, covered, stirring once or twice, until wilted, 1 to 2 minutes. Drain in a colander and rinse under cold running water until cool. Squeeze small handfuls of spinach to remove as much moisture as possible, then coarsely chop.
Cook onion in butter in a small heavy saucepan over moderately low heat, stirring, until softened, about 4 minutes. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring, 2 minutes. Add warm milk and simmer, whisking, 3 to 4 minutes. Whisk in parmesan, salt, nutmeg, and pepper to taste. Add spinach and cook, stirring, until heated through.

Cooks’ note:
Spinach can be made 1 day ahead of assembling Shepherd’s pie and chilled, covered. Bring to room temperature before proceeding.

Check out the WanderFood Wednesday series for more great food postings!

Brandy is dandy

December 8, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

My copy of ‘The Cuisine of Armenia’ by Sonia Uvezian arrived in the mail today (thank you Amazon.com). If it weren’t for the fact that the Urban Cabin’s kitchen is still mid-remodel, I’d be diving right in to cook Armenian vittles for Big Papa and I. Unfortunately, I am without a stove for the moment, not to mention that the fridge is in the bedroom and the counter tops, what little remain, are caked with 100-year old dust.

Glancing through the recipes, there’s nary one I wouldn’t try (ok, well maybe not the ‘Tongue Salad’). One of the reasons I’m tickled to be adopting from Armenia is the food!

I first heard about Ms. Uvezian through her book, The Book of Yogurt. While I do not own this book (yet), I am a huge yogurt devotee. All her books receive rave reviews and several reviewers say ‘The Cuisine of Armenia’ is a “classic.”

With the advent of the internet, I’m buying fewer and fewer cookbooks. Recipes are at my fingertips online. That said I wanted one compilation of Armenian recipes I could wade through. Uvezian’s book is also sprinkled with tidbits on Armenian history as it relates to food and recipes. I love to read about food history and learn more about the cultural roots for the food we’ll eat.

If I can’t cook much these days, I certainly can read. So I nestled next to Maggie the cat and took my time perusing the many temptations awaiting me in the 487 page cookbook.

At times I think I reading about food and cooking is as tantalizing as making the dish itself. The joy is in the imagining. Some days I’ll find myself searching for sweet treats and others I’ll scour my sources for hearty stews.

Today, the recipe that jumped out and said, “Make me! Make me!” was the recipe for Armenian Cherry Brandy. It could be the biting chill to the air or possibly stores filled to the brim with red this and that, but suddenly some tummy-warming burgundy-colored brandy, home made no less, sounds like just the ticket.

Armenian brandy is world-renowned for its excellence. Winston Churchill was so impressed with Armenian brandy given to him by Stalin that he asked for several cases of it to be sent to him each year.

When I was a kid, my father made cherry brandy. I have fond memories of him letting my sister and I enjoy the wrinkled drunken cherries that we found sitting at the bottom of the jar. The brandy recipe in ‘The Cuisine of Armenia’ calls for cloves, cinnamon and nutmeg. It just sounds so darn festive.

Of course, fresh cherries are quite seasonal and out of the question mid-December, so I’m contemplating using a combo of frozen and dried cherries or substituting with another fruit altogether. Pomegranate, in particular comes to mind. Aside from pomegranate being the national fruit of Armenia, it also has a lovely festive red color.

Here’s the recipe for Armenian Cherry Brandy. Tweak as desired (as my fridge magnet reads: “She didn’t always follow the recipe”):

Armenian Cherry Brandy

Sour cherries
Sugar
Brandy
Whole cloves
Cinnamon sticks
Whole nutmeg

Wash, stem and pit the sour cherries. Place equal amounts of the cherries and sugar in alternate layers in a heavy, enameled saucepan, ending with a layer of sugar on top. Let stand 12 hours or overnight. The following day, bring the mixture slowly to a boil, stirring constantly until the sugar is dissolved. Drain off the cherry juice and measure (reserve the cherries).

To each cup of cherry juice, add ½ cup brandy. To 8 cups of the cherry-brandy mixture, add 1-1/2 teaspoons whole cloves, 1 small cinnamon stick, 1 whole nutmeg, and ½ cup of the cherries. Pour into sterilized bottles and seal and store in a cool place. The brandy will be ready in one month. Serve chilled.

Check out the WanderFood Wednesday series for more great food postings!

Only the good things

November 26, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

“Only the good things,” is what our spinning instructor encourages us to think about this week of Thanksgiving. Letting those words take root is a good thing in itself. I’ve been feeling a bit sad.

The sadness comes from missing my friend, Dee. I called her on Thanksgiving Day, a year ago, to tell her how thankful I am for her friendship. That was the last time I heard her voice. She died three and a half weeks later.

Although I wish she was here this Thanksgiving, I am so grateful for the friendship I had with her which lasted 44 years. Even in her darkest hours, she always managed to find good things to be thankful for.

So in honor of Dee’s memory and our friendship, I celebrate the blessings in my own life. I truly have much to be thankful for:

•   Big Papa’s steadfast love
•   My physical health, well-being and strength
•   The Urban Cabin, my home
•   Wonderful friendships, old and new
•   Delicious food in my fridge, on my stove and in my belly
•   Miss Maggie’s silly cat companionship
•   The beauty of the Pacific Northwest
•   A backyard to grow things in
•   The freedom to write and express myself
•   My family being able to see the happiness in my life
•   The birds and critters who find food and shelter in our yard
•   My mind and my intellect
•   Having things I feel passionate about: writing, photography and cooking
•   Being able to care for and care about others
•   Opportunities I’ve had to get out and see more of the world
•   The ability to share what we have with a child in need

To all who read this post, may a day of thanks be yours. No matter how harried or stressed you feel, find a few minutes to pause and reflect. Take stock of the wonder in your life, both large and small. For myself I am reminded this day, that of all the ‘good things’ I give thanks for, the grandest of all is life itself.

From Russia with love

November 23, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

I scoop up a teaspoon of stuffing with one hand and grab a flimsy round piece of dough in the other, and carefully tuck and fold until a tortellini-like Pelmeni emerges. Ten eager adoptive or prospective adoptive moms stand around a table with me, scooping, stuffing and folding.

Pelmeni are a Russian national dish. These dumplings are made from a filling wrapped in thin unleavened dough. We are using a minced meat (beef and chicken) mixture, but Pelmeni can also be made with ricotta cheese or potato filling.

My comrades in Pelmeni are all members of FRUA-INC. FRUA stands for Friends for Russian and Ukrainian Adoption. The ‘INC’ is, in my case, the significant acronym since it spells out, “Including Neighboring Countries.” FRUA is an international parent support network for families who have adopted or are in the process of adopting from the former Soviet Union. These republics include Belarus, Moldova, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Krygyzstan, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan, and Tadzhikistan, as well as Russian and the Ukraine. FRUA families have also adopted children from Romania, Bulgaria, Hungary, Poland and other Eastern European countries.

This is the first time I’ve participated in a FRUA event, although I’ve been receiving the newsletter for the past year (and even contributed an article about Armenia in the October edition). Two women, one Russian and one Ukrainian volunteered to show us how to make both Pemeni and Kotleti (a Russian hamburger) so that we could share this favorite cuisine with our kids.

Of course our kiddo will hail from Armenia, not Russia or the Ukraine. While the cuisine from Armenia is distinctly different from that of much of Eastern Europe, our child will share the common bond of being adopted from that region of the world, so I wanted to check out what a FRUA event was like.

The Kotleti and Pemeni were pretty darn tasty. We ate the cute little dumplings and burgers we made with a side salad of tomatoes and peas and some yummy Kasha (which I’ve been jonesing for since leaving the event).

Shortly after we finished our meal, our gracious hostesses put out a ‘fishbowl’ with numbers in it on the table in front of us. We each pulled a number and then took turns selecting a Russian food gift item from a box on the table.

Hanging out with a bunch of women who have been down the path I’m on was the highlight of the evening for me. We chatted about how we all went crazy during the waiting period, the insane amount of paperwork required, and all the uncertainties and changes to the process along the way.

About eight of the women already have their kids (some have reached their teen years, in fact) and each shared their unique adoption journey. For the three of us who are still “ladies in waiting,” it was comforting to hear these women express the same doubts and anxiety that we feel while we wait and wonder, “Will it ever happen?”

As I drove home, I thought about the evening. I definitely had more in common with some of the woman than others. I could imagine scheduling a “play date” with one or two. That’s always how it is in a group. You connect better with some folks than others.

One thing is crystal clear. These women, adoptive moms all, have walked in my moccasins. This is my tribe.

Catch and release

November 16, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

I love cats, large and small, domesticated and wild. So, it’s no surprise how much I was touched by the story of Christian, the lion. Christian was a lion originally purchased in 1969 from Harrods department store in London by two Australians, John Rendall and Anthony “Ace” Bourke.

When Christian got too large for his urban surroundings, John and Ace found a way to take him to Africa and, ultimately, reintroduce him into the wild with the help of conservationist George Adamson of “Born Free” fame. A year after Christian was released into the wild, John and Ace went back to visit. Amazingly, Christian remembered them.

It’s hard not to be moved by the story and footage that has been circulating on YouTube. I smiled at the scenes during Christian’s younger years, when the lion and his two human ‘mentors’ chase each other around the church yard where they took Christian for exercise. Tears came to my eyes when I viewed the reunion and the big ‘hug’ Christian gives to John and Ace.

But what really gave me pause, was mind-blowing persistence and determination John and Ace displayed to set Christian free. They raised funds, sought local and global support, lobbied the Kenyan government for permission to bring him to Africa and, for a short time, even left their jobs. Beneath this mammoth undertaking was the drive to do everything they could to ensure Christian would not just survive but thrive.

Isn’t that what truly great parents do? No matter what, they find a way to give their kids the tools they need for the best shot at making it on their own. Helping your child take his first steps, learn to write his name, figure out how to balance a checkbook and make sound decisions in life.

Coaching our kid to use his wings and fly is something Big Papa and I are quite passionate about, though pushing him out of the nest seems light years away from where we sit now. Our thoughts center on getting a kid, not getting rid of a kid.

When I imagine teaching my child how to make an apple pie, I smile inwardly at the pride I’ll feel when my kiddo rolls out his first crust. What great fun it will be to walk to the market and decide together on whether we want the red Honey Crisp apples or the green Granny Smiths.

These are important “teachable moments.” If I can show my son his way around the kitchen, not only will he be able to feed himself as a college student, he might be able to woo a gal with his ability to make a tasty apple pie. Choosing between the Honey Crisps or the Granny Smiths will help him learn to make decisions, express preferences and understand what things cost.

Not that we shouldn’t enjoy making an apple pie together, for the simple bliss of the here and now alone. Watching John and Ace pass the soccer ball to Christian, you can see the pure joy in their faces and the undeniable bond they shared. In that moment, it’s all that matters. They aren’t thinking about how a game of chase and capture might be skills that will serve Christian well when he returns to the wild. They are just soaking in the experience.

When I finally take my turn at parenting, I hope I’ll find it within myself to do both. That I will be able to create a safe haven where my child can stand solidly on terra firma and, when the time comes, help him find the strength to stretch his wings and fly.

There are two lasting bequests we can give our children. One is roots. The other is wings. ~Hodding Carter, Jr.

Anoush

October 14, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

Anoush (pronounced “Ah-noosh”) means sweet in Armenian. The word is used in many ways, one of which is to toast to good health and prosperity, “Anoush…enjoy the sweet life.”

I tasted a bit of the sweet life this past Sunday when I signed myself up for the ‘Armenian Adventure’ cooking class at the PCC (Puget Consumers Coop). The instructor, Lesa Sullivan, is not Armenian though she is married to an Armenian man and had a close relationship with an Armenian family during her younger years.

Sitting next to me, were Eloise and David, a recently married young couple who met in Armenia while serving two years in the Peace Corps. We exchanged email addresses and look forward to sharing photos, stories and cooking Armenian food in the not-too-distant future. Eloise, David and I were the only class attendees who had actually been to Armenia. Even Lesa, our instructor, has never been but hopes to visit one day.

The rest of our classmates said they signed up for the class because they were interested in learning about the melting pot that Mediterranean flavors that make up Armenian cuisine. Greek, Turkish, Jewish, Lebanese, Persian, Georgian and Russian dishes all contribute to Armenian cuisine and, in turn, their cuisines are also influenced by this rich and ancient culture.

There are a few distinctions between Armenian cuisine in Armenia and Armenian cuisine in Diaspora (Armenians who left their homeland due to war and persecution). For Armenians in Diaspora, cooking is influenced by the culture they emigrated to, such as Lebanon, Greece, Brazil or the United States.

In Armenia, most dishes are prepared exactly the same way every time, whereas in the U.S., Diaspora Armenians may feel more inclined to branch out and experiment “on a theme.” Some of the variations in Armenian cooking result from the foods that are available in the region where Armenians now live; new recipes and cultural innovations meld with traditional favorites.

During our class we sipped on S’rj (spiced, sweet stovetop coffee) as Lesa demonstrated (it was, unfortunately, not a hands-on class) how to make Lamajun, (Armenian flatbread “pizza”), Kofta Mishmisheya (lamb meatballs in apricot sauce), Sarma (veggie and rice-stuffed cabbage leaves), and Anoush Aboor (rice pudding with rosewater).

When Big Papa and I were in Armenia we were dined on Dolma (like Sarma but made with grape leaves) and tried tasty Lamajun at a café on Abovian Street in Yerevan. I have to say that eating Armenian food in the U.S. isn’t quite the same as eating it in Armenia. For me, the “flavor” of a cuisine is enhanced when tasting it surrounded by the sound of the language, the aromas of the markets and the sights of the country.

I came home and prepared Mishmisheya for Big Papa that evening. Even though my internet research hinted that the dish was Turkish or Tunisian in origin, it was still pretty darned tasty. And yes, I did vary the theme to include locally grown oven-roasted fingerlings and we sipped on one of our beloved Foxen Syrahs. Just before we took our first bite, we raised our glasses and toasted, “Anoush. To the sweet life.”

Check out the WanderFood Wednesday series for more great food postings!

Gettin’ busy

October 6, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

A couple years before I met Big Papa, I dated someone for about six months. When that relationship ended, it really took the wind out of my sails. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming, but there I sat, in an all-too-familiar and very unhappy place. In the midst of my misery, I managed enough self-awareness to observe that I kept repeating dysfunctional dating patterns with some knock-off version of the same kind of guy. Like Einstein said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

I was done with walking in circles only to find myself back where I’d started. First, I found a fabulous therapist, which turned out to be a brilliant and life-changing maneuver on my part. Then I started knitting.

Knitting had experienced a renaissance about the time I gave it a go. This was not our grandmother’s tea cozy and afghan sort of knitting. The age of ‘Stitch ‘n Bitch’ had arrived. I joined the cool and hip take back crafting revolution.

When I was knitting, I was completely absorbed in some other-worldly dimension. Time passed without notice. Sound faded into the background and, miraculously, the tornado in my mind stopped spinning.

During this time, I remember one time when I was at my friend Jena’s house watching ‘Six Feet Under.’ She’d invited a few gals over and attempted to convince me, a non-T.V. watcher, that this was a show worth falling for. She kept trying to draw my attention to what was on the screen in front of me, but I was completely oblivious, enveloped in a world of my own.

I spent the better part of the next six months glazed over in a knitting haze. My first project was a cute little sleeveless top knitted with burgundy ribbon yarn. Next I tried my hand at felting, knitting up a purse big enough for an entire family, only to toss it in the washer and come out with a soft fuzzy raspberry-hued stylin’ bag. I knit and purled my way through a few classes and several chicks-only knitting circles. And then I stopped.

Maybe knitting had finished serving duty as a distraction in my life, or maybe it was just time to move on toward new goals. I still think fondly back on knitting and hope I might pick up the needles at some point down the road. In fact, I’ve thought about it quite frequently as our adoption journey saunters along.

If I had a penny for the number of times folks have advised “just keep busy,” I’d be sitting on a windfall. Countless adoption articles suggest a plethora of activities to “take your mind off the wait.”

Knit a blanket for the baby. Have a yard sale or donate old household items. Start a scrapbook. Go shopping for kid stuff. Go on vacation and enjoy time with your partner. Read about adoption. Join an adoption support group. Take classes and learn about your child’s culture, language, cuisine and traditions. Keep a journal or write letters to your child. And, the ever present, decorate the child’s room.

By now, if you’ve read a few of my posts, it’s pretty obvious I’m not a sit-on-the-couch-and-watch-Oprah sort of gal. I maintain two blogs, this blog about our adoption and another about our remodel of the Urban Cabin. I try to write two posts per week for each. I’m also a part-time editor for a non-profit organization that develops international HIV/AIDS/TB curriculum. We’re in the midst of our house remodel which is many small projects all rolled into one. I take spinning classes and lift weights six days a week. My father, who is in assisted living (and recently fell and broke six ribs) needs this or that on a weekly basis. I do my best to make time for a small cadre of friends. Recently there was all the planning involved in our trip to Armenia and, prior to that, the onslaught of paperwork, classes and dossier preparation.

Saying I’m a busy babe would be an understatement. But the truth is I still stress-out about the adoption. It’s not that I don’t have moments when I find myself in a blissful, mindful and unworried place. I do. Writing, cooking, photographing, spinning at the gym and time spent just hangin’ with Big Papa put me in a peaceful frame of mind. I don’t think about the adoption all the time, but it isn’t far removed much of the time.

It’s fair to say I still have a ways to go when it comes to quieting my mind. My brain easily slips into multi-tasking mode more than I might want it to. For someone who is a doer, like I am, I expect not-doing will always be a challenge. But I sure would like to work on finding my way down that path. Because despite what everyone tells me, I find that “keeping busy” only alleviates just so much mental gymnastics. At least for me.

Pakhlava Recipe

July 22, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

Three cups of nuts, a cup and a half of butter, layers of flakey pastry, and enough sugar for an entire village, that’s Pakhlava. This weekend, Big Papa and I went to a shindig at “the other Beth’s,” aka Beth Whitman, the Wanderlust and Lipstick travel Diva! I thought it fitting to bring along some homemade Pakhlava. Plus, if I’m going to become a Mama to an Armenian child, I need to practice my Pakhlava technique.

In a previous post (You say Baklava and I say Pakhlava), I wrote a bit about the history of Baklava (the dessert and my own experience with it). I also touched on approach various countries take when baking this delectable pastry. Walnuts, pistachios, or almonds? Honey and sugar, or just sugar? Cinnamon or Cardamom?

Over the years, I’ve made a few variations on the them, but in this period of my life there’s no question. It’s Armenian Pakhlava all the way.

Pakhlava

Ingredients
1 pound (25) prepared Filo or Phyllo* dough sheets (approx. 13″ x 17″)
3 cups chopped walnuts
1 cup finely chopped almonds 1/2 cup sugar
1 Tablespoon cinnamon
1 orange peel, grated
1-1/2 cup clarified butter**

Syrup
2 cups sugar
1-1/2 cups water
4 oz. honey***
1-1/2 Tablespoon lemon juice

Preparation
1. Mix nuts, sugar, cinnamon, orange peel for filling.
2. Butter bottom and sides of a 13″ x 9″ x 2″ baking pan.
3. Cut sheets of Filo in half to fit the pan.
4. Place 10 cut sheets of Filo in the bottom of the pan, lightly brushing each layer with melted butter.
5. Sprinkle 1/3 of nut mixture on top of sheets.
6. Repeat with next 10 sheets and nuts until you have 30 layers of Filo and three of nuts
7. Place about 20 layers of Filo on top, lightly buttering each.
8. Using a sharp knife, cut through dough lengthwise and then diagonally about 1 1/2 to 2″ apart to make diamond shapes and pour a little melted butter on each diamond. Sprinkle lightly with water to prevent curling of top layers.
9. Bake for 15 minutes at 350° F.
10. Pour any remaining butter over dough and continue baking 25-30 minutes until it is golden brown in color. It is very important not to undercook the pastry.
11. While Pakhlava is baking, prepare syrup.
12. Place sugar, water and honey in a large pot and stir over medium heat until sugar has dissolved. Add lemon juice. Bring to a boil and continue to boil for 15 minutes.
13. Cool to lukewarm.
14. When dough is finished baking, spoon syrup evenly over Pakhlava. Let Pakhlava set for several hours. Cut into serving portions.

Notes
* Filo/Phyllo Dough: Paper thin prepared strudel-like dough used for flaky pastries such like Pakhlava. Filo is sold fresh or frozen, approximately 22 – 35 sheets to the pound box, depending on size and thickness.25 sheets are needed for this recipe. Frozen Filo dough is available in 1 lb boxes at most supermarkets in the freezer section. When using frozen Filo, it is important to slowly thaw the dough overnight in the refrigerator and then let it come to room temperature (unopened) for two hours before using. Filo dough dries quickly in the heat of the kitchen. Work with one sheet at a time, keeping the rest covered with a lightly dampened cloth.

**Clarified butter is used frying and making pastries. It is better than ordinary butter because it does not burn as easily. Pastries made with clarified butter will retain their freshness longer.

***The Greeks use honey in their syrup Armenian do not. Instead increase sugar to 2-1/4 cups.

Clarified Butter

You can also find clarified butter or Ghee, pre-made, in specialty grocery stores
Yield: 3 cups

Ingredients
2 lbs. unsalted butter

Preparation
1. Place 2 lbs. butter in a heavy saucepan. Melt over low heat.
2. Skim off foam with a spoon as it rises.
3. Simmer until the milky residue in the bottom of the pan begins to lightly brown (do not burn!)
4. Carefully pour off the clear butter into a container, leaving the residue at the bottom.
5. Cover and refrigerate.

Note
You can make this ahead and have it on hand. It will keep well for weeks in the refrigerator.

Sea of love

June 22, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

Before heading to Big Sur last week to celebrate my 50th birthday, Big Papa and I spent a night in Monterey. Appropriately, we stayed in the ‘California Room’ at the Martine Inn in Pacific Grove which is just across the street from the ocean. We enjoyed a lovely leisurely day, just the kind of day you need to make the transition from hectic city life to I’m–on-vacation-mode.

Strolling along Ocean View Boulevard to Lover’s Point, we took our time to enjoy the views and stop here and there to watch Harbor seals lounging on nearby rocks or frolicking in the surf.

Later we walked to dinner at Passionfish. The food was fantastic and, as it turned out, we were seated next to a woman who was also celebrating her 50th. Both she and her husband were originally from New York City. As an upstate New Yorker myself, it was a small world moment of serendipity.

The next morning, Big Papa and I hoofed over to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. My last visit there was over twenty-five years ago. We saw five Sea Otters playfully scooting around their indoor tank. Maggie, Mae, Joy, Toola, and Rosa are at the aquarium because they were rescued from the wild and have medical or behavioral issues. We passed by an octopus, smart enough to figure out how to stick his tentacle through a puzzle to extract six tasty shrimp. In the ‘Splash Zone,’ we touched a silky smooth flounder and an array of sea critters.

One of the highlights was viewing the 28-foot deep Kelp Forest. Fishes large and small wove their way through undulating fronds of kelp. I was mesmerized by the colors, blue-green water against the mustard yellow kelp accented by the bright sparkle and changing patterns of Pacific Sardines swimming by in silvery schools like clouds in the sky.

Water is primordial. It’s where life on earth began. For me, it is deeply alluring. As a child, playing and swimming in the water was my escape. I loved to hold my breath and plunge beneath the surface. The silence of my watery world soothed me and the silky feel of pushing my body through the water was so sensual.

Big Papa and I left the aquarium and walked back along the ocean’s edge. The rhythm of the surf echoed my own heart beat. I felt calm and centered. Ready for the days of surprise that lay ahead.

Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea. ~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Whale of a birthday

June 19, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

June 15 was a spectacular day. For starters, I was in Big Sur. Waking up to the smells and sounds of the ocean counts as a darn good day in my book. Taking that first sip of coffee while sitting on a deck overlooking the Pacific is hard to beat. Toss a couple of Humpback whales swimming by into the picture, and it’s nothing short of magical. This was how my 50th trip around the sun began.

Big Papa and I spent two nights at Treebones Resort to celebrate my five decades on the planet. For many, ‘resort’ conjures up images of plush towels, bedtime turn-down, Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom and five-star dining. Treebones is a different sort of resort experience all-together. First of all, we slept in a yurt. For those not in the know, a yurt is like a tent with a wood floor. Yurts are ancient structures that were used by Central Asian nomads for centuries. Our yurt was pretty cushy with a real bed, electricity and running water. Treebones has sixteen yurts, and fittingly for a June 15 birthday celebration, our yurt was number fifteen.

Breakfast at Treebones is self-serve waffles or homemade granola. They also offer tasty lunch and dinner which you can eat in their cozy lodge or outside on the deck. For my birthday dinner, we ordered the Tagine for two, a yummy stew with Middle Eastern flavors. Ours had chicken, apricots and almonds. The food was fantastic, though even Dinty Moore might have tasted pretty good with the view of the ocean from the deck.

Throughout the day, we saw a veritable ‘Partridge and a Pear Tree’ worth of marine and avian life from various vantage points at Treebones. The aforementioned Humpbacks were sighted over breakfast. Seeing their tail flukes wave and dive was spellbinding. During lunch we spotted a few dozen dolphins flying across the water in a flurry of leaps. Birds small and large flew overhead from the turkey vultures cruising the coastline, to Pelicans flying elegantly single file over the waves, to tiny Hummingbirds darting to and fro between the flowers. On land a few small brown brush rabbits hopped hopefully around the perimeter of the organic garden and the requisite on-site resort cats scurried through the brush.

And then there was the sunset. Big Papa and I sat and watched the sky turn every shade of crimson and tangerine imaginable until the sun fell to the horizon, burning bright like a day-glo island and gradually slipping below the surface. We sat together, nursing a glass of Cabernet from the bottle we received from Treebones for my birthday, waiting until every last bit of light was squeezed from the sky. As stars upon stars filled the darkness, Big Papa and I stood up and gave quiet thanks for the day, and walked hand in hand back to our yurt.