Success is a skillet

"Success is a skillet", her grandmother said. "Come here and I'll show you." 

The little girl dropped the book she was reading, grabbed the brightly colored apron she received for her birthday and stood next to her Grandma, a woman that never seized to show her something worth knowing. 

Grandma grabbed a twelve inch cast iron skillet from the shelf, and wiped it gently to remove the residual oil from its last seasoning. Meanwhile the little girl foraged for onions, garlic, parsley, carrots, and broccoli rabe among other things from around the kitchen. Grandma said, "bring me whatever we've got and we will make something of it. Success is a skillet. The outcome depends on what goes in."  

The little girl looked on as some butter was melted in a small pan and added to it were Panko bread crumbs. They were lightly browned, mixed with fresh parsley and set aside. The girl shredded the carrots while grandma chopped onions, garlic too, always garlic, and removed sausage meat from its casing. All were added to the skillet, item by item. 

Grandma spoke as she worked methodically, sautéing the onions and garlic, filling the house with warmth and the scent of making. The little girl looked and listened; her favorite place had become Grandma's kitchen. It might as well have been a classroom. Formative learning occupied this small space.

She began, "When I was young, we had fewer options. Women were expected to fulfill certain roles. Today my darling, you can be any number of things. But I implore you to be not a thing, but a person. A loving, hard-working person. People will throw around the word 'success' at every juncture in your life. Remember that success is a skillet. It comes slow and steady, like this cassoulet we are stewing. It can't be rushed, and you won't always be certain when it has arrived. You'll have to taste it. Varying elements comprise the desired end for different people. I know my successes had to cook a little longer. I was cautious, and took my time. 

"Successes will be charged with flavor, only attained with time and careful attention. You have to respect the ingredients and nurture them along the way. With enough preparation, the outcomes truly take care of themselves. You musn't hurry or vital parts of your life will be overlooked. You have to savor the seemingly insignificant moments. They amount to so very much, even if at the time, you wish to push them aside."

"Grandma, when can we eat? " the little girl innocently asked. Grandma smiled tenderly and said, "with all this talking, supper is actually just about complete. Help me top it with breadcrumbs." She looked on knowing before her stood her most precious success.  

Ingredients 

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 cup panko bread crumbs 
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 cup chopped onion
• 12 oz cooked sausage, sliced or diced
• 2 cups shredded carrots
• 4 garlic cloves, chopped
• 2 (15.5 ounce) cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 (14.5 ounce) can tomatoes, diced or crushed
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon pepper
• 5 ounces broccoli rabe, roughly chopped 

To Prepare 

The recipe for this cassoulet was adapted from Weight Watchers Magazine. 

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Set aside a twelve inch, seasoned, skillet. If you don't have a skillet, you can use a 13 by 9 baking dish, sprayed with vegetable oil. Or you can shop Lodge Skillets here. 

 In a small skillet melt the butter over medium heat. Add panko and cook, stirring, for two minutes or until lightly browned. Let cool and toss with parsley. 

In a large saucepan, heat oil over medium heat, add onion and cook until onions are softened, about five minutes. Add sausage and cook until lightly browned. Add carrots and garlic. Cook for an additional three minutes, or until carrots are crisp-tender. Add the beans, broth, tomatoes, and all seasonings. Bring to a boil and add the broccoli rabe. Stir until broccoli rabe is wilted.  Pour the mixture into your skillet, top with Panko and parsley. Cover with foil and bake until heated through, about fifteen minutes. Remove foil and cook for an additional five minutes, until the top is crusty and golden.

What I learned in 2014

In what feels like an alarmingly fast fashion, 2014 came and went. It was a nourishing experience to recap lessons learned in 2013, so I gathered myself to compile this year's list. 

I learned that is it more important to be present, than happy. The human condition is comprised of a spectrum of emotions and tendencies, most of which have a functional purpose. Rather than crowding out negative feelings, I endeavored to grow from each experience.  

James taught me how to make broth from tortilla chips, a hearty sauce from leftover pot roast and potatoes, and broccoli rabe so enticing that I prefer it to mashed potatoes, and that is saying something.

I learned that Disney can make a successful film around two female protagonists, that "Bakers gonna bake, bake, bake, bake, bake, Nick Jonas grew up, and "It's all about that bass", thankfully. 

I was reminded almost daily that I crave the exact. There is comfort in certainty as expectations can be defined and managed. But I have learned that real courage and growth manifests in the unknown. The yearning for order will taunt until you learn to dance in the gray area. 

Speaking up for yourself is daunting but worthwhile. No one else knows exactly what to say or how to say it on your behalf, so open yourself to communication. Advocate for yourself and the world will often welcome your entreaty. 

You are successful in whatever faculty you choose to pour your heart into. No act is too small to leave an impression on someone. 

Urgency makes you creative and resourceful. 

I learned that when you expect perfection, brokenness will undo you. When you expect brokenness and vulnerability, everything will rise to greet you; all will be in the realm of ok.

I learned how whiskey is made, how to assemble dream catchers, and re-learned how to make drop-down menus in Excel which is incredibly useful in lots of applications. A new friend of mine taught me a breathing method to combat anxiety and also introduced me to the primary foods. They have nothing to do with food. 

That we can't live our lives afraid of something going wrong. We must be so engaged, infatuated even, with the life we made that not even hardship can deflate our joy. 

I learned that the above doesn't mean we should be arrogant. Humility is timeless. Competition is human, but kindness divine. And very little comes from comparing yourself to others. Self worth is like a pie with limitless slices; everyone gets a slice regardless of his or her station in life. 

Pulling an engagement ring out of a pair of cowboy boots, makeup-less, unfixed hair, with no one around, is just as special as something out of a storybook. 

On that note, storybooks are overrated and unrealistic. The good stuff lies in the trials and overcoming them. Embracing someone despite their flaws and having them embrace you in return. People come into your life exactly when you need them, and not one second before. 

And I learned my sister gives a mean speech, although I never doubted she would be poised in any situation with a microphone. 

The end of the year often carries with it an air of melancholy, the high of Christmas having worn off and the shorter days cloaking us in darkness. But I've learned every morning we can begin again. I've found solace in the morning light and am grateful for these pockets of stillness.

Happy New Year to you and yours! 

Scenes from Sunday: Aebleskivers

Loving someone isn't always tidy. It's muddled. Hot, cold and all varying degrees in between. Like powdered sugar all over your face, it's still a beautiful thing. A circumstance to savor. Despite the inclination to do so, you don’t necessarily want to neaten it right away.

I’m especially grateful for my loved ones as I can be a bundle of emotions, and seek assurance more than the typical person. Mama says I have been this way since I was little. On Christmas, I was looking at old family photos with my sister. She had the biggest grin in all of them, holding me close to her side as if declaring to the world, “this is my baby sister.” I smiled often, of course. But in other photos, I wore a serious gaze. To this day my Dad can identify this gaze. He says, “what are you thinking about, Francesca. I see the smoke coming from your head.” While I can try with all my might to change, or lessen my introspective lapses, it makes more sense to own my intricacies and leverage them for the better.

My dear friend Sophie shared these words from Khalil Gibran with me years ago... "Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children."

One to shed a tear with ease, as stories and realities move me readily to waterworks, these words give me solace. And while my family really has no choice but to tolerate my spectrum of feelings, my indecision, and vulnerability, I know their love is voluntary. 

This Sunday, I made something that wasn't neat, but was more than worthwhile, using my new Lodge Aebleskiver pan, a Christmas present I will cherish.  If I had my way there would be doughy goodness, with a hidden surprise of cookie spread in the middle every Sunday. And while love takes patience, these Danish pancakes are best served hot, so dig in immediately. 

Ingredients 

4 eggs, separated
1 tablespoon sugar
2 cups flour (Note: the original recipe recommends cake flour) 
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup of butter, melted
Just under 2 cups milk
Amoretti Creamy Speculoos Natural Cookie Spread 
Lodge Cast Iron Aebleskiver pan 

This recipe is slightly adjusted from Lodge Cast Iron's A Skillet Full. 

To prepare 

Separate yolks from the eggs. Beat egg yolks until lemon colored.

Sift together dry ingredients and add to the yolks alternately with the butter and milk.

Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites. Place a small amount of oil in the wells of Aebleskiver pan and fill 2/3 with batter. Add a small serving, about ½ teaspoon, of cookie spread to each. It will sink into the batter.

Cook over medium heat until the balls begin to bubble. Gently flip using a fork. Traditionally, the aebleskivers are flipped using knitting needles. Turn each over several times to brown on all sides and ensure they are baked through.

Serve hot with powdered sugar. Then call someone who is patient with you despite your flaws, and thank them. 

Broccoli Rabe and Sausage Stuffed Mushrooms

Countless times, I've come home flustered from a hectic day and the question looms, what's for dinner? Before I had a dishwasher, on days I was particularly bereft of ideas the main goal was  reduce cleanup - keep the number of dishes and utensils used to a minimum. Now that I have a dishwasher I can certainly focus less on dish damage, but minimizing cleanup is always a relevant concern. The dishwasher's size serves as a practical constraint too. Living with a Chef there is never, and I mean never, a shortage of dirty dishes. When he cooks, I clean. When I cook, I clean. You get the picture. 

Imagine a meal without utensils at all, where you pick and choose with your fingers, uninhibited, like a child. Enter finger foods. All week we have been dabbling in the realm of finger foods, as holiday gatherings are frequent and energy is starting to wither. Today one of my favorite combinations, broccoli rabe and sausage, finds its temporary home in a mushroom cap. Next week, you'll see it residing alongside some orecchiette.

Ingredients

• 30 or so cremini mushrooms
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 8 ounces sausage (I've used pork and chicken sausage; any kind will do.)
• 1/2 bunch broccoli rabe
• 3 chopped garlic cloves
• red pepper flakes to taste
• 1 cup bread crumbs
• 1/2 cup grated parmesan
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
• salt 

This recipe is adapted from Food Network Magazine's November 2014 Issue.

To prepare

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Remove the stems from the mushrooms and set aside. Wipe caps clean with a damp paper towel. Toss caps with olive oil and season with salt. Arrange the mushrooms on a baking sheet. 

Finely chop the mushroom stems and broccoli rabe. Cook eight ounces of sausage, casing removed, in a skillet over medium heat. Break up the meat until no longer pink, about 3 minutes. Add the mushroom stems and broccoli rabe, cooking for 4 minutes or until tender. Add the chopped garlic and season with red pepper flakes. Cook for an additional minute. 

Let cool, then mix with breadcrumbs, parmesan, and chopped parsley. Divide mixture among the caps and bake for 15-17 minutes. 

Let cool for 5 minutes and serve with additional parsley and cheese if desired. 

Less is More: Homemade Treats

He was sickened over not having enough money to buy his teacher a shiny present like the other students. His father had lost his job and it would be a difficult Christmas. Mama pulled him close and whispered gently,  'my sweet boy, the work of the hands is the work of the heart'. They gathered together in the kitchen and baked tiny loaves of Panettone with care. Once cool, each was packaged with scrap ribbon and baker's twine. 

The Christmas season can be a stressful one, born of our own expectations around gift giving, entertaining, social schedules, and the pressure to create a perfect day. We lament over what to buy, how little we have to spend, who to invite and what to wear. In this frenetic buzz, we lose sight of the true meaning of the season: love, plain and simple.

Spending cold dark evenings with friends and family, baking cookies, wearing silly sweaters and sipping on spiced cider while music plays in the background. The happy chatter of childhood mates who converge on their hometown for but one week a year. Blaring sirens as Santa rounds the corner in the city fire truck waving and bellowing, "Ho Ho Ho". Children praying that they were behaved enough to please Saint Nicholas. 

Instead, tempers flare, money is spent in excess, and feelings are hurt as we forget to focus on compounding joy and worry about the perception of everything being just right. Each year, the moments that mean the most are unplanned and spontaneous, and the gifts are basic and often hand-made. Annie Dillard eloquently stated,

"If you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days."

These words are a welcome dose of perspective this Christmas season. Less is ok, and often superior. The work of the hands is the work of the heart. I remind myself that I can be a success so long as I pour my heart into whatever it is I am doing. This year, I made tiny loaves of Panettone, an Italian Christmas sweet bread. I packaged them with parchment paper, scrap ribbon and baker's twine. Best of all, my effort will be acknowledged before the price tag.