Sunday brunch has long been my favorite meal of the week. It’s a huge deal in New Orleans, and I’d always indulge whenever I found myself there after a long night of doing what college kids do on Saturday night. (No, never Bourbon Street — we had some standards.) Once I moved to the working world after grad school, my cravings went unsatisfied; I was the hardest-working woman in St. Louis on Sundays, you see. After my gig as minister of music at a local church, I went straight to my day job for a double shift of putting the catalog to bed for the week. Saturday brunches just weren’t the same, somehow, so I sucked it up until I moved to NY and got to enjoy the boozy brunches offered all over the city.

Sadly, there aren’t any places in Ringwood for a proper brunch, so I’m left to my own devices when the mood strikes. And strike it did this very morning. So, inspired by a Mario Batali recipe, I decided to make use of lovely hen of the woods mushrooms from Trader Joe’s and tomatoes from my friend Mew’s garden (lucky duck, her yard gets plenty of sunshine and no deer at all).

I didn’t want the typical scrambled/fried/poached egg and bacon axis — though a side of bacon was a no-brainer — and remembered a baked egg recipe from Orangette I’d been meaning to try. (Btw, she’s getting married today — let’s all send good thoughts her way!) Apart from my ramekins being too small (which later spelled disaster), it seemed like an easy enough recipe to attempt in my morning-addled state.

I washed the mixing bowl thoroughly to remove any speck of grease and set the whites to whipping. As the stand mixer was doing its thing, I grated the cheese and greased the ramekins. It all went smoothly, though I made a couple of extras just in case my previous bad luck with meringues/soufflés continued.

While a couple of yolks went Frank Lee Morris on me, the other two remained where they should’ve and put a fine spin on the typical eggy brunch dish. The yolks were blanketed with creme fraiche and nestled into delicate clouds of cheese with the faintest crunch on the edges. Yummmmmm…

Despite the rich cream, this was the most ephemeral of brunch dishes and one I’ll definitely try again, only next time with larger ramekins.

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When I was young, vegetables never were the focus of the meal. Always relegated to the side, they either were major cholesterol bombs — Cajun-style vegetables tend to be smothered with pork fat and onions, which is delicious, but not exactly heart healthy — or bland and uninspired. My mom never has been fond of spending time in the kitchen and still favors opening a can of petit pois or corn, dumping it into a serving bowl with a big pat of butter, and microwaving until it’s “done.” These dishes were really, truly, nothing more than a side or an afterthought.

But I’ve come a long way, baby — vegetables are more than meat’s wingman! (Look at me. I’m so enlightened!) Once I learned just how good fresh can be, and got a few good cookbooks to guide me, veggies started appearing on my plate in more than a side capacity. In fact, for the past year or so, I’ve been trying to eat vegequarian for most of my meals during the week (though obviously I still love the flesh) just to ensure I’m getting something other than meat and bread in my diet … and I don’t feel deprived at all! It’s hardly news to most of you out there, but it’s a whole new world to me.

With summer’s bounty on display at our farmers’ market this morning, it was nearly impossible to pass up anything at all. And so we came home with gorgeous red and golden beets, a dozen ears of corn, leeks, carrots, zucchini, garlic, onions, and tatsoi, along with a grass-fed porterhouse steak and mini apple pie. I hardly knew where to start for lunch!

We also had fresh vegetarian ravioli on hand from our latest Trader Joe’s run, so I decided to whip up a quick roasted veggie sauce to go with it. The smoky flavors of the roasted red pepper, onions, zucchini, and garlic were smoothed out with a little goat cheese and made for a tasty, light lunch.

Remind me to tell you about my fresh fruit discovery sometime. What a revelation to learn that fruit could be served without a ton of added sugar and in something other than fruit salad form.

As always, click on the pictures for a link to my flickr food photo set.

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My friends have been the recipients of much of my smoker bounty for the past couple of days, but we still had a little left in the fridge tonight. As you know if you’ve read this blog for even a short time, I hate leftovers — unless I can turn them into something else.

But this week’s Epicurious newsletter changed that for me, at least for one meal. The newsletter included a recipe for an arugula and peach salad that I knew would be great with our leftovers, so while the pork was reheating, I whipped up the salad with my farmers’ market arugula, and we were eating within 30 minutes of getting home. The pork was still very tasty, but this salad is something you Must Make, and soon. It was that good.

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After successfully assembling my smoker Saturday — without ruining my new manicure, no less — it was just begging to be used. How could I say no to Terrence Howard, even if I had no idea what my inaugural meal should be?

But my decision was made for me by the display of gorgeous pork loins on special at my local grocery. I brought home the smallest specimen (EIGHT POUNDS), cut it in half, and went to work.

When I was first thinking of getting a smoker, I bought Backyard BBQ: The Art of Smokology by Richard W. McPeake to get some idea of what I’d be in for. This book covers it all — from buying a smoker and building a fire, to recipes for rubs, marinades, mops, and sops (and the difference between the last two). Despite the glaring spelling errors throughout, I’d definitely recommend it if you’d like to learn more about the art of smoking from someone who’s been on the circuit for a while. McPeake’s recipe for a honey-bourbon marinade made my mouth water, so I let the four pounds of porky goodness soak in it for about 18 hours.

As it turns out, controlling heat in a charcoal smoker is just as difficult as I expected. Allowing the thermometer to hang into the water pan for a few minutes didn’t help with getting an accurate reading at first, but even though the pork loin ultimately cooked at a higher temperature than it should have, it absorbed plenty of smoke flavor. I mean, really, just look at the lovely smoke ring in the picture! It was just as juicy and flavorful as it looks, too, and was delicious with a little Dijon mustard and fresh corn on the side.

Next up: Mustard-glazed ribs. They’re supposed to cook at a higher temperature than the pork loin, so I should be more successful with them.

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Broke out the D70 today and fooled around with the telephoto lens for a bit. I still have a long way to go before I’m even capable with the camera, but happened to be in the right place at the right time as this little guy landed about 20 feet away while I was testing the autofocus. And so I snapped away in the wrong mode and got a bunch of almost-decent pictures.

Enjoy, or just laugh at my ineptitude!

I have dubbed it Terrence Howard, for the obvious reason — they’re both smokin’.

Gil’s away in Cleveland for the evening, so you know what that means — olives and capers (no brussels sprouts, bein’s how it’s summer and all) and LOTR. Yes, I am well and truly living it up with my bad self. So maybe having whore’s pasta to celebrate my alone-time isn’t the most virtuous-sounding meal I could’ve eaten, but boy, do I love olives! And egad, does my husband not!

For more than you ever really wanted to know about pasta puttanesca, check out this Wikipedia entry.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my D70 owner’s manual and I are needed in Middle Earth.

Living the dream, my friends. Y’all have a good weekend.

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I had every intention of cooking* when I got home tonight, but how could I when I walked in the door and saw this?

Hanukkah Harry came early this year!

A little background: My father-in-law is a retired photographer who has amassed a pretty large collection of pretty impressive equipment. At the birthday party last weekend, I saw him shooting with a D70 and wanted to talk to him about it, as I’ve been thinking of getting a D80 and wanted his opinion. Well, he was otherwise occupied with the kids around, but my interest in photography planted a seed, I guess, and when Gil stopped by to help him with a project this evening, he sent home this big box of goodies for me.

Honestly, I don’t even know what a couple of these lenses are for (check out tighter photos of them here), but I am SO looking forward to learning. As I said in the title, no more excuses for bad photography here, but I really do need to learn how to get good lighting in the evening. Any tips/suggestions would be appreciated.

* Instead, we dined on smoked oysters, brie, and crackers — I could still handle a picnic, even in my overwhelmed state.

Gil and I spent our Saturday celebrating niece Sela’s fourth birthday with my in-laws in Franklin Lakes. My husband passed the time horsing around with his brother, swimming with the kids, and trying to avoid getting tagged with silly string — not always successfully — while I sat poolside with my sister-in-law, Jane. The water was too cold for such delicate creatures, so we relaxed in the sun and caught up. (We didn’t get to spend enough time together this year, so we’ve decided to go away for a spa weekend when they’re in town again. Maybe Gil can babysit all on his own to get a taste of what he’s missing.)

Because Gil was otherwise occupied yesterday with the aforementioned horseplay, I documented the occasion from my lounge chair, while he waited till later to get embarrassing pictures of me and gorgeous shots of his brother’s bubble-making activities. And, of course, there’s his much better write-up of the occasion, which you should check out.

The birthday girl models her dad’s Springsteen shirt. As you can see, it was excellent for twirling.

We had a great time. I’m very lucky to have married into a family I like so much and would choose to spend time with, even if we weren’t related.

Hiya, everyone. My summer cold made a reappearance yesterday, bigger and badder than ever, so posting’s going to be light until I can taste and smell again.

Boo.

It’s been a good day for sports, at least. The Wimbledon final was much more exciting than I was expecting and the Yankees are leading the Angels 12 - 0 in the 8th as I watch in air conditioned comfort in my living room.