Homemade Pita Chips

I devour books whole, swallowing them in one mouthful. Most people take in books slowly, savoring them page by page, drawing out the stories over the span of days and weeks as they pick them up for an occasional hello. Some days I wish of a world where stories could travel farther through time, the sentences stretching over hours instead of seconds. My impulsive nature dictates otherwise; falling hard and fast for a narrative, it refuses to put it down until the final page has been turned. I wish I could make the stories last longer. I wish, in so many ways, they would never end.

They always do, they must, but there is an endless supply reaching out to take the next place.

When I pick up a book, I expose my soul to it, allowing it into my most vulnerable and unguarded corners in a way I struggle to do with people. I live vicariously through the characters, experiencing their highs and lows, swept up in the journey of self-discovery. Even so, the end of a good book jars me. My heart is so consumed with emotion and the story told that I find it difficult to adjust back to reality for a moment. I want to share this experience with those around me. I want them to feel as I do in that instant, somehow both shattered and whole. Instead I keep the quiet moment to myself and pass the book along to them, hoping they will find the same experiences as I did.

Last weekend, on a long car ride back from the mountains, I picked up Cheryl Strayed's Wild. My eyes were glued to the page as Cheryl took me through her journey. While I wish to speak about this book in great detail, it is simpler to tell you that there are many books worth reading and this is one of them. And so, I pass the book on to you.

Just as I have a fondness to revisit favorite books, I like to do the same with recipes. While many recipes can stand alone, I like to give a few of them a bit of a tweak now and then, to steer the recipe on a new course of its own.

When I found myself with more pita bread than a lone woman should eat, I cut it into slices, spiced it, and baked it until crisp. As I dipped my fresh pita chips into a bowl of hummus and paged through a magazine, I wondered whether the experience of eating a good dish was similar to reading a good book. Food takes me through a journey of the senses, of memories, of nostalgia, and, in a few instances, of self-discovery. While most foods and flavors I enjoy are a part of the everyday scene, there are a few that stick out in my mind. As great books, these recipes have carved a place in my heart. I find myself longing for more after the last bite is gone, grateful for the experience, wishing I could share the moment with you.

And, thankfully, I can.

Homemade Pita Chips are spicy, addictive, and perfect for snacking. Pita bread is brushed with a layer of oil, cumin, and chili powder, sprinkled with salt, and sliced into bite-sized pieces. The chips emerge from the oven browned and crispy, ready to be dipped into a bowl full of humus. While I used homemade pita bread for this recipe, store bought pitas will work just as well. A fair warning, however: you may find it difficult to share.

Click to read more ...

Cucumber & Zucchini Cream Cheese Slices

First and foremost, I want to apologize for my leave of absence for the last few weeks. I have not disappeared or taken an unannounced break from blogging. Instead, my explanation is rather simple, albeit mundane—computer problems. The moment I returned from vacation, my hard drive crashed spectacularly, rendering my computer completely unusable. Thanks to my wonderful father and his hard work installing a new hard drive, I have a fully functioning computer sitting in my lap this evening.

I can say with great sincerity that I have missed these small moments we share together.

August is one of my favorite months when it comes to food; it's the beginning of harvest. After a trip to the local farmer's market, my kitchen is suddenly host to my obsession with fresh vegetables. As they line the counter tops and spill out of the refrigerator, I often sit back and seriously question myself on what I've just done, convinced I'll never manage to eat my way through them on time. After a few pasta dishes and makeshift hashes topped with an egg, the vegetables quickly disappear and I find myself back at the market in a week's time.

This is a cycle I wish I could enjoy more than a few months out of the year.

On my most recent trip to the farmer's market, I picked up a bundle of cucumbers, zucchinis, and leeks, among many other vegetables. More often than not I don't have a plan for using them, choosing instead to find inspiration in front of the stove when dinner time comes around. This time the inspiration came from my mother.

During the summer months, she occasionally whips up traditional German summer fare (I come from a long line of German heritage). One of my family's favorite dishes is made with small dumplings which are covered in a cold cream sauce with thinly sliced cucumbers or lettuce. Without her recipe to guide me, I created an inspired version of the dish for myself, turning it into an open faced sandwich so I could easily pack it in my lunchbox during the work week. The ingredients may be simple, but the flavors in this dish are wonderfully complex (and it'll use up some of those ripe vegetables still sitting in the garden).

Cucumber & Zucchini Cream Cheese Slices is a deconstructed version of one of my mother's traditional summer dishes. Thinly sliced cucumbers, zucchini, and leeks are sprinkled with salt and pepper and splashed with vinegar. This salad is then placed on top of French bread spread thickly with cream cheese to create an open-faced sandwich. The acidity of the vinegar and the tang of the cream cheese complement the mild tones of the cucumber and zucchini (with a zing from the leeks) in an unexpected, but welcome manner.

A tip of advice: the thinner the vegetables are sliced, the better the salad comes together (if you have a mandolin, now is the time to pull it out of the cupboard).

Click to read more ...

Sun Dried Tomato, Basil, & Brie Spread

This week has been unseasonably warm. So warm, in fact, the Upper Midwest has tossed aside the winter jackets and scarves, burying them deep into the coat closets, opting for shorts and flip-flops instead. Summer in March, if only for a few days. While I've been soaking up the hot weather and warm breezes, running around in flowing skirts, I can't shake the feeling that Mother Nature is going to make me pay for this untimely gift, in some form or another.

Blizzards and ice storms in May? It wouldn't be the first time.

This newly encountered Summer in March is like a Spot the Difference! game in a child's doodle book. The grass is brown and dead. The branches on the trees are stripped bare, without the bright green buds of spring. The neighbor's home still has Christmas lights winding around the railing of the front step. The earliest signs of spring haven't arrived, leaving the appearance of the world still in the midst of winter.

If not for the cars driving past, with the windows rolled down and the music drifting into the street, or the girls suntanning in swimsuits in front yards of neighboring houses, you'd never know it was 80 degrees F outside my window. Summer in March, you are giving me mixed signals.

Even so, I've embraced this heatwave by eating the quintessential summer foods. I've taken the cover off the grill. I finally purchased fresh fruits that weren't apples and oranges (Hello strawberries and watermelon! It's been too long). I made frozen yogurt for the very first time. The last few days have been mood healing.

One of my favorite end-of-summer meals is a garden fresh tomato basil pasta with a warm baguette spread with brie cheese. Since summer foods aren't nearly in season, I incorporated this memorable meal in a different way. This Sun Dried Tomato, Basil, & Brie Spread is an homage to those long summer nights, but can (and should) be eaten any day of the year.

This Sun Dried Tomato, Basil, & Brie Spread couldn't be easier to make (and packs a punch of flavor). With a sprinkling of salt and freshly ground pepper, each ingredient is bright and present. Spread thickly onto a cracker, it makes for a simple-to-make appetizer for dinner parties or it can act as a makeshift meal when you simply don't feel like cooking.

Click to read more ...