I sent this letter out to my private list of readers, friends and family yesterday. I’m eager to share it here, too.

Dear Friends, Family & Loyal Readers,

As I write this, I can smell the sweet wafts of an apple pie bubbling away in the oven and a turkey roasting in a bath of red wine, shallots, garlic and parsley. Last night, as Dan and I toasted a medley of bread ends for our stuffing, we had the windows open. Cold air smelling of the day’s early snow puffed into our hot kitchen and then, like a gift, we heard the brave honking of a flock of Canada geese. We looked at each other and smiled. “Listen,” said Dan. Then, suddenly, our eyes filled with tears; their simple, primal instinct to make a long journey through dark nights and dense cities, over mountains and fields, makes me know that courage is innate to all of us. I hope they get there.

For us, it will be a simple Thanksgiving this year; my mother is making her way to our place in Portland as I write this and and Dan’s mom will also join us. Five people will gather around the table and two of us (the two with four furry feet) will hover, undoubtedly, underfoot. And one of us is VERY excited about that apple pie in the oven!

Every year I’m grateful that we have a national holiday built around this notion of giving thanks–we don’t formally say “thank you” enough, it occurs to me. But this year, in particular, I’m especially grateful to all of you who have supported Dan and me and then my book, too (!) over the last two plus years. Your cheers have made the race worth running.

For a few laughs today, I thought I’d share this photo I found the other day of Dan and me three years ago–when things were still going swimmingly in LA and Master M. was still on the inside (I hope my belly doesn’t look quite like that after Thanksgiving dinner this year!)

I also wanted to share this video of Bruce Springsteen singing “This Land is Your Land.” There is so much to be proud of in this country, so much courage and spirit across our great land every day.  I hope this song inspires you to love what is precious about our nation, and to believe that the seeds of change are sometimes just a song away: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1yuc4BI5NWU

And, finally, I heard this poem yesterday on The Writer’s Almanac. I can’t think of better words to describe the indescribably profound thanks we feel each day for the children who come into our lives and make us whole.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!
Caitlin.
For Anna Catherine on Thanksgiving

by Samuel Hazo

The first girl in generations,
you came when the century clicked
from nines to zeroes to plus one.
Capped on a pallet, you flexed
your toes and let us count
your fingernails.
We studied you
as our particular event,
our small surprise, our bonus.
Months earlier, I prayed
that you’d be born intact
and healthy, and you were.
Today I wish you beauty, grace,
intelligence—the commonplace
grandfatherly clichés….
What
makes us crave for those
we love such bounties of perfection?
Life, just life, is never
miracle enough no matter
how we try to church ourselves….
Squirming in my arms, you save me
from my tyranny of dreams
with nothing but your version of a kiss
and the sure, blind love of innocence.

November 12, 2011

Dear Loyal Readers, Friends and Family,

There’s lots of talk in our house these days about Santa. Almost every morning, Master M. wakes up and asks, “Did Santa come last night?” Gosh, it’s not even Thanksgiving and we’re already barreling down on Christmas! Today, during quiet time, he and I had a rather deep discussion about the Grinch and why he would try to steal Christmas. Despite the fact that Master M. felt I should somehow have super-mommy powers great enough to reach inside Seuss’s book and change the narrative–“I don’t like him stealing Christmas, Mommy”– he was mollified by the message of the story: that, indeed, Christmas can’t be stolen, no matter how many gifts and tinsel get carted away; the act of coming together is a bigger force than any gesture of vengeance (and any present, too.) What touched me the most, though, was how relieved he was when the Grinch was forgiven and how much he enjoyed the glee with which the Grinch sets about to carve the Whos’ “roast beast.”

Forgiveness, in our house, is a familiar theme—how could it not be with a two-almost-three-year-old running our operation?  Many times a day we are discussing how to say, “I’m sorry,” to Hemmy, whose tale was just pulled, or to poor, patient Hoppy who just suffered an accidental bonk on the nose with a wiffle ball bat and then, to add insult to injury, was attacked by Hemmy (who thinks Hoppy’s tale is a very large, squirrely toy!) Hemmy, for the record, is turning out to be the most tolerant cat (when he isn’t persecuting Hopper), even submitting himself to an ongoing balloon sculpture, of which he is the foundation.

Today was chillier than it’s been in a while but, even so, while Dan worked with his friend, Frank, on a construction job out in Falmouth Foreside, Master M., Hopper and I piled into the car and drove to a nearby field for a long walk and then went to the Farmer’s Market. As the afternoon waned, M. and I found ourselves in the kitchen, making a dinner that ended up being a mini-Thanksgiving. When he isn’t pulling tails or trying to drink his juice “like Hemmy” (i.e. licking it out of his cup), M. is the perfect, enthusiastic sous-chef. Tonight we roasted a half-chicken with simply a little oil and sea salt and some good red wine in the pan. Into the oven went a handful of potatoes and out of the fridge came a Savoy cabbage, a couple of golden carrots and a red onion, which were all chopped and mixed into a deliciously creamy slaw. A few cranberries were pulled out of the freezer for a quick sauce.

Then, some magic happened: I lighted upon a pie crust left over from a dinner party last week at the back of the fridge. We looked at each other and I said two magic words: “Apple tart?” I was the coolest mommy anywhere for the next fifteen minutes.

In two shakes of a lamb’s tail, we were rolling out the crust and thinly slicing apples. Musing, (with tarte tatin on the brain), I said, “What do you think about the idea of a thin layer of ricotta?”

“That sheep’s milk ricotta we got today, Mommy?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Yum,” and my charge went swiftly to the fridge and pulled out the jar of creamy, salty sheep’s ricotta, purchased this morning from a cheese maker who somehow continues to be a secret at the market while she blows our minds every week with something special.

Onto the crust went a clumpy layer of the ricotta, a thin covering of apples and a drizzle of butter that was browned with sugar and maple syrup. Then I shoved it into the oven next to the chicken for about twenty minutes. After our pre-Thanksgiving dinner, we had a dessert that was, truly, sublime. I might have to recreate that one when the holidays roll around!

Speaking of simple gifts and holidays, I found out last week that Made for You and Me has been nominated for a Good Reads Choice Award in the category of “Best Travel and Outdoors.” Apparently, we can all go and vote—I guess it’s a democracy on Good Reads!– and sometime in the coming weeks the votes will be tabulated:

http://www.goodreads.com/award/choice/2011#56071-Best-Travel-&-Outdoors

What are your thoughts for the holidays? What simple gifts are you choosing to accentuate? I’d love to hear from you.

Best, Caitlin.

A Savory Twist on an Old Classic!

The other day I decided to make lace cookies for a signing I was doing at a summer book festival. I was to sit at a table with my mother, the author of Settled in the Wild and my friend Melissa Coleman, author of This Life is In Your Hands. All three of us would have piles of our books towering in front of us and our smiling faces to recommend a sale…but was that enough?

“What does a person meandering through a book festival want,” I asked myself?

“Cookies,” my sweet tooth answered!

So I opened my trusty Fannie Farmer to one of my childhood favorites: lace cookies. I was so in love with the simple recipe of oatmeal, melted butter and sugar and the way the cookies melted all over the baking sheet, that I wanted more. So when the Lets Lunch group decided that this month was all about something to go along with “bubbly” I started to think, “Could I make a savory version of these?” Cheese obviously had to be a part of the equation. And butter. And the oatmeal, of course. But what else did it need? Something gren, maybe?

So, today, I decided to give my dreams a whirl…and they came out splendidly!

These little morsels are perfect for any summer gathering—ready to go in minutes and so delicious you’ll be addicted (as I am!)

Adapted from P. 610 Fannie Farmer Cookbook:

1 ½ cups uncooked oatmeal

2 tablespoons of flour

½ tsp salt

2/3 cup melted butter

I egg lightly beaten

1 cup Gruyere

3 tablespoons Parmesan

3 tablespoons finely minced green chives, scallions, fresh green from a spring onion or the green tops of fresh garlic.

In a bowl mix up the oatmeal, flour, salt and melted butter. Add in the egg. Now add in the cheeses and the chives, garlic or onion (or any other herb you’ve got in your garden!)

Spoon onto a non-stick or greased cookie sheet, smoosh slightly with a fork and bake for fifteen to twenty minutes, or until the edges are crispy and the “cookies” are lightly browned. Serve with some lovely chilled Prosecco (in jelly jars in our house!) and…enjoy!

Best, Caitlin.

Nothing speaks “summer” to me like the arrival of the first strawberries—juicy enough to burst in your fingers, staining your lips, chin, shirt and knees, if you’re wearing shorts. And because it’s around this same time that I start worrying that I haven’t yet eaten my fill of tart, springy rhubarb, that I know I have to make my favorite pie.

Since last night was a reading night (in Boston, away from my family, at the Levi’s store on Newbury Street), this morning being warm and sunny all I wanted to do was get to the beach. As the day started to warm up, I corralled Master M. and Hopper into the car, leaving Dan at home to go for a run and apply for jobs. We took off for our first summer’s outing at Mackworth Island, a small state park studded with rocky beaches in Casco Bay. Last summer we began every day here with a walk and a swim—it was the perfect start to even a heinous day. And so I knew it would truly be summer when we got there. Soon, we were jogging up the hill and into the woods, the lily of the valley dense and emerald green on the sides of the path, the water sparklingly filled with cormorants, black ducks and gulls. By the time we got to the beach where we normally stop for a dip, Hopper was barely able to contain himself. The water, to my hand, was warm enough to swim and I was bothered that I’d been too conservative to wear my suit. Oh well, instead two lovely children and their mother shared their beach toys and Master M. and I built a river with them and played waterworks.

On the way home, knowing I had this pie on the horizon for my afternoon, I decided to stop at our local, The Rosemont, to see what they had fresh. I had barely even hoped for strawberries—thinking that might be a greedy, silly desire this early. But there, gleaming like rubies in little wooden crates, they sat and Master M. and I picked up two pints.

Home again we washed and halved them, tossed them in a bowl with about 1/3 as much chopped rhubarb and added a squeeze of half a lime, a sprinkle of salt, enough sugar to modestly coat the fruit and a pat of butter.(Now, I’ve recently been diagnosed with a rare allergy which became, in my case, an illness—more on that later. This condition, though, makes me allergic to spices and herbs. This puts me in, what I like to call, Foodie Exile. But if I weren’t in said Foodie Exile, I would grate a smidgen of dried nutmeg into my pie and sprinkle a tiny flurry of cinnamon and to make it perfect, I’d add the grainy insides of one vanilla bean—or two teaspoons of the extract. But since I couldn’t do that today and still eat this pie, I’ve left those out).

Into our family standard of Fannie Farmer’s 9-inch double pie crust  (p. 689)

our crimson fruit went, and Master M. poked the holes with a fork. I spread a little milk over the crust and popped it into the oven.

It was just then that Dan asked me if I’d put the freezer section of our Cusinart ice cream maker in the freezer. I had not! Oh dear! This machine was a gift from Dan and Master M. for my birthday last summer and is, truly, one of the best gifts I ever received—you can make ice cream on a moment’s notice! (But only if you’ve kept the cold part in the freezer!)

Dan filled it with ice and put it in the very back while I worried.

Later, after a dinner of steak on the grill and my current salad fetish (small broccoli florets, thinly sliced Vidalia onion, avocado and tender bibb lettuces, dressed with a little truffle oil, some sunflower oil, salt, lemon and rice vinegar), Master M. and I mixed up the lemon/lime ice cream (I use yogurt and milk, because I like the tang of yogurt and the body it gives ice cream.)

One and a half  cups whole milk yogurt with cream

1/2 cup whole milk

½ cup sugar

juice from ½ lime and ½ lemon

zest from ½ lemon and 1 and ½ limes.

Add to ice cream maker and …delicious! (Now, if I could add spices, I’d throw in some cardamom…sigh! )

Unfortunately our ice cream never quite hardened—it was soft serve that quickly melted on the warm pie. So, we’ll have to try that part again tomorrow (too bad we have to have ice cream two days in a row!) But the flavors, together, were a little slice of summer.

Happy June! Caitlin.

PS: Photos by my hubby, Deputy Dan (www.danieledavis.co)

Since one of our Lets Lunch members is recovering from a surgery that requires her to eat only liquids, we decided to honor her this month with liquid lunches! Since it’s spring I immediately wanted something green. So, I pulled some homemade chicken broth out of the freezer—every time we roast a chicken, we boil the carcass down for stock–and with my sous chef (hubby Dan) doing most of the grunt work, we heated it up, threw in some baby spinach, the juice of two lemons, some salt, and some chopped kale, cilantro, parsley and broccoli and a bag of frozen green peas. And then we pureed it. It was that simple. Warm greenness to eat!  Do not ask me the proportions. What I can tell you is that it was just an equal ratio of green things to broth. Then we made Dan’s favorite: the Joy of Cooking Baguette to go along with it (made with wheat grown and milled in Maine!): p. 601

See Dan’s beautiful picture, here:

This is a great light lunch—and very springy! BUT if I’m totally honest here, and had more time to futz with this to make it perfect, this soup might do well cooked with a ham hock or some pancetta crumbled in. It’s good as is, but it’s missing that umami we all crave.

Don’t forget to check out the Let’s Lunchers’ liquid lunch offerings below! And if you’d like to join Let’s Lunch, go to Twitter and post a message with the hashtag #Letslunch — or, post a comment below.

Cheryl‘s Miso-Bacon-Corn Chowder: An Umami-Packed Liquid Lunch at A Tiger in the Kitchen

Cathy‘s Nut Milk at Show Food Chef

Chris‘s Asparagus & Artichoke Bisque at Blog Well Done

Denise‘s Mango Lassi at Chez Us

Eleanor‘s Turnip, Chinese Mushroom & Pork Soup at Be a Wok Star

Ellise‘s Cucumber-Avocado Gazpacho at Cowgirl Chef

Emma‘s Ham-Hock Soup at Dreaming of Pots & Pans

Linda‘s Crack Pie-Inspired Shake at Free Range Cookies

Mai‘s Peanut Butter-Espresso Smoothie at Cooking in The Fruit Bowl

Rashda‘s Spring Pea & Mint Soup at Hot Curries & Cold Beer

Steff‘s Gazpacho at The Kitchen Trials

Enjoy! –Caitlin.

Please leave your comments below to the question: What does the American Dream mean to you?? I will choose two winners after midnight on April 17th.

Stay in touch! Best, Caitlin.

Now, during book promotion you meet all kinds of amazing people, both in cyber space and in the real spaces of bookstores. Sometimes you get to meet other authors because you’re reading at the same event. I met Cheryl Tan, author of The Tiger in the Kitchen, this spring in Florida and we immediately connected. Cheryl then introduced me to the “Let’s Lunch” crowd on Twitter and so, here I am, today doing a “Let’s Lunch” blog.

Today’s theme is breakfast for lunch. I decided to open my book and find some of the foods I love (and wrote about) and see if I couldn’t come up with something breakfasty that was hearty enough for a lunch.

First, I wanted okra. I’m ready for summer already and when I think of okra, I think of warm sun and mornings that turn breakfast into lunch just because you’ve been lazing around for so long! Okra is something I write about some in my book because when I was younger I used to think it was , as I write in Made for You and Me, a “slimy, disgusting mess.” But when I was in my late twenties and living in New York City, I worked at a Farmer’s Market and started bringing bags of everything I was selling home. Okra was often in those big bags. I figured out a way to cook it that pleased me: I’d thinly slice it into rounds and then fry it with some freshly chopped Serrano pepper in olive oil and salt and serve it as a side dish to accompany steak or, for brunch, with a fried egg on top. Later, when Dan and I were broke in LA and needed to make filling food cheaply, we often bought okra at the farmer’s market because it’s full of fiber and, fried crispy the way I like it, always seems special.

Chopped Okra

So, after I chopped up the Okra I started thinking about what was needed to go with it. A fried egg, of course to make it breakfasty, but that wasn’t enough. I needed something else. Biscuits! In my book I mention that I make Fannie Farmer’s Baking Powder Biscuits (pg. 544 in her cookbook) all the time—to go with soups, or breakfast, or lunch. They take about 15-20 minutes, TOTAL time. So, I did my usual blend of half whole wheat and half white and put those in the oven (my son, Master M. was busy helping me).

Master M. Sifts the Flour

When the biscuits came out, I fried the eggs and placed them on top of the fried okra coins. I pulled out a jar of last summer’s plum jam from the pantry and, voila!, we had a homespun, filling, delicious lunch of gooey egg, Serrano spiced okra, and homemade biscuits with plum jam. I’m so full now; I think I need to take a nap!
Enjoy!
Caitlin.

Biscuits Right Out of the Oven!

The Perfectly Fried Egg

Breakfast for Lunch!

Recipe:

Make Fannie Famer’s Baking Powder Biscuits. Page 544 in the Fannie Farmer Cookbook:

2 cups flour. I use ½ white and ½ whole wheat.
½ tsp salt
I use 3 teaspoons of Baking Powder, not the 4 she calls for (hers has too much!)
1 tbs. sugar
½ cup shortening (I use butter or sunflower oil)
2/3 cup milk (or I use water).

Preheat oven to 425. Grease a caste iron skillet or pie plate. Mix it all together. Fannie tells you to knead this 14 times. I do not. I just mush it all together until it’s a nice, soft, elastic ball and then I flatten it into the greased skillet and bake. They are done when a fork comes out clean from the center and the edges.

Meanwhile, before you pop the biscuit dough in the oven, chop in thin rounds a good bunch of okra (I usually do a pound to a pound and a half). Chop finely one Serrano pepper. Throw the pepper in a pan and add a generous amount of olive oil and salt. Add the okra and swirl around so the okra is coated with oil.

Now pop the biscuits in the oven.

Then, turn up the heat to medium and cook until the okra rounds are crispy, not sticky, and are light golden, to darker brown at the edges.

When the Okra is done, pile it on the plate and add a fried egg. Complete with a nice hunk of biscuit and some butter and jam.

This meal is satisfying enough for any time of day.

To read more about Made for You and Me: Going West, Going Broke, Finding Home please visit my website at www.caitlinshetterly.com.

To read the blog that inspired the book go to www.caitdangowest.squarespace.com.

AND if you want to order the book, Made for You and Me: Going West, Going Broke, Finding Home please click here.

* Photos by my hubby, Daniel E. Davis, photographer extraordinaire.

AND DON’T FORGET THE OTHER LET’S LUNCHERS WHO JOINED IN ON THE FUN:

Cathy‘s Frittata Ribbon Salad with Honey-Bacon Vinaigrette at Showfood Chef

Denise‘s Vanilla Yogurt Pancakes at Chez Us

Linda‘s Cinnamon Roll French Toast Sticks at Free Range Cookies

Rashda‘s Sweet Potato and 2-Pepper Hash with Fried Egg and Avocado at Hot Curries & Cold Beer

Cheryl‘s Breakfast Tacos at A Tiger in the Kitchen

Me with Cheryl Tan again.

Signing BOOKS!

Signing Books!

Me with Jane Velez-Mitchell, author of Addict Nation and Cheryl Tan, author of A Tiger in the Kitchen.

Larry Levin, author of Oogy, wearing my uncle's Board Blades hat at the pool.

Me with Anne Haskins, an NPR listener who reached out to my family on our way home across the country. She drove two hours each way today to see me in Fort Lauderdale.