A Funny Thing

Space is a funny thing.  Sometimes you crave it, a little distance from x-y-z, or sometimes it happens when you didn’t even mean for it to (ie, not writing on here for about 2 months now) and a lot of times, when you get exactly what you (un)intentionally wanted, it isn’t always rainbows and puppies.  (Case in point, I've missed you, Vagabond Table.)

But space is good, too.  It’s good to refocus, to reflect, to put all your energies into one or two things instead of 20 things, because sometimes just a few things require that much time to get through, or, in some cases, get over.   And, either way, or all around, or however you end up interpreting this, that distance is a great healer, encourager, and clarifier.  And lets you value yourself, and your relationships, and your goals in ways that you never quite had the time to do before.   Maybe it even gives you some good ideas for what you want to do in your 29th year of life, as you gratefully bundle up all the 28 years that came before and see what other adventures you can get lost in. 

Taking a step back also helps you realize that simple things somehow end up being most important.   Things like taking 5 minutes to just pause before the day even starts, when you’re still curled up in bed.  Or give a long, long hug to a Grandmother you never get to see.  Even just spending the night chatting about anything and everything with a soul-friend, celebrating a new life coming into this world, your brother’s new start at college, a good friend's wedding (in Colorado!) and remembering to never, ever, ever, sell yourself short of the good things in life. 

Coffee in the morning.  Being lazy on a Saturday.  Listening to summer thunderstorms (or hurricanes!) outside your window and watching the lightning electrify your walls.  Tostada and movie nights, homemade stovetop popcorn, curling up in the blanket your mom knit you ages ago, listening to records, and feeling the first break in heat as Fall starts creeping up.  Late summer peaches being turned into pies.  A gift or rosemary from a friend’s garden.  Simple things, good things.  

And sometimes space works to your cooking favor… for example spaces work most excellently on said Peach Pie, with the classic lattice-woven crust that lets the fruit caramelize while letting the steam out.   Maybe that’s all a bit of space is good for in life…letting things cool off, letting the steam out, letting things settle, and then, when it’s time to dive in, all that patience and space leads to something much better.

Use up those peaches and plums, my friends.  Put them in a pie, put them in a jar, just put them somewhere you get to enjoy every lovely bit of them.  And here's to allowing yourself to pause enough to focus on things you love, and to diving in.  Just like we dived into this Rosemary Peach Pie, but hopefully the benefits of that last longer than how long this pie lasted.  Which, between 3 people, was less than a day.  

Wishful Thinking

When I was a kid, whenever I wished on a shooting star, I wished for one thing and one thing only: a barrel of strawberries. A wooden, curved, at least 5 foot tall BARREL of sweet, red-juice-dripping-down-your-chin-perfection strawberries. Looking back now, it seems crazy and also maybe the coolest wish ever, and I’m proud of my seven-year-old self for choosing berries over something as silly as a boyfriend or a pony (although I did ask Santa for a pony once, but at least my berry-wishes far outweighed my pony-wishes.)


To put it mildly, you could say I have a thing for berries. As an adult, that love has reached out and grabbed the entire berry family to include blueberries, cranberries, raspberries, blackberries… le sigh. Seriously. You can’t get more perfect than a warm, sun-ripened blackberry. You just can’t.

Unfortunately we’re not quite into full-frontal berry season assault yet, but for those weeks when you have something to celebrate (like the recent Desmond-centric LOST episode, when I made the pie) or something to be sad over, or something to miss or something to love, pie fits all of those needs. Pie accompanies those happy moments and pie also fills up those holes in the sad moments. Especially pies that remind you of summer, like this Double-Berry Pie. Strawberries and blackberries… crunchy topping…oh baby, oh baby.

From The Vagabond Table

Unfortunately, I forgot my camera while this pie baked at a friend’s house, and he was kind enough to take a few pics pre-baking of said pie for me on his iphone. I have no post-pie pictures, mostly because there wasn’t much post-pie to speak of. We were a bit too eager to let the pie cool down and set, so what I served resembled more of a berry-crumble with crunchy-topping rather than a pie, but that’s neither here nor there. The taste was yummy and so berry-y that it made me forget it wasn’t quite summer yet.

From The Vagabond Table

Finally...you know, baking pies is not only therapeutic, it also makes for a most excellent song by one most radical songstress… I now present to you Miss Patty Griffin for your listening pleasure. (Be sure to take a listen, I can’t believe I went this far into my adult life without having listened to her until only the last few months or so.) Hello musical soulmate!

A Very Merry Birthday

Happy one year Blog-iversary, Vagabond Table! It's been real. Real fun, real challenging, and mostly a real kick in the pants.

And, to everyone who has read this, thank you thank you thank you.

Oh look! My 1 year old birthday pie, courtesy of Gourmet: Cranberry Apple Crumble Pie.

From new year, new food

Which basically means, cranberries-that-dye-my-whole-apple-pie-red-with-awesome-pecan-streusel-topping.

From new year, new food

Yeah, yeah, I know, another pie. But guess what. Christmas is coming, and this pie is gorgeous. I made it for the second time for Thanksgiving, and it turned out a little tart since I used Granny Smith and Pink Lady apples... ah well. I for one like sour-ish things, but I suggest you go for a mixture of sweet apples with a few sour ones thrown in as the cranberries do a brilliant job of balancing out the sweetness with their own tarty selves. Oh, and note to all: 'Tis wonderful served with a scoop of Vanilla Bean ice cream. Did you notice my attempt at Fall "leaves" on the sides of the pie? Oh yes. I went there.

Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving folks! Thanks for sticking with me this far, and I promise that great things are to come in the next 52 weeks.

As American As...

There is a simple equation that I have concerning Fall.

It goes like this.

Fall = Chilly.

Thus: Chilly + Leaves Falling = Beautiful / (Boots + Sweaters)

SO BASICALLY (in case my mad math skillz got you confused)…

Fall = Chilly = Beautiful = Samantha Busts Out Warm Things


Here is my list of current comfy things that I’ve loved reintroducing myself to again after months away:

A green knit blanket my Mama made eons ago
Fuzzy Socks
Saturday Morning Coffee
Wellie Boots
Scarves
Red wine
Sweet Potatoes
Roasted Cauliflower
PIE.

From new year, new food

Oh, Pie…Doesn’t it just sound great? Short, but sweet and to the point, Pie doesn’t get all fancy with multiple whipped creams and special flours like cakes do. No, sirree bob. Pie is homey. Pie makes you want to wrap your arms around it and hug it back, ‘cause that’s basically what it does: hugs you from the inside out.

You know, if Marie Antoinette had instead opted for saying, “Let them eat PIE!” people wouldn’t have gotten so miffed. Like I said, cake is kind of prissy, and the French took that whole cake-reference pretty badly when she brought it up. But let’s think what would have happened if she had gone with PIE instead? I think the peasantry would have been like “Huh. You’re right… I got a few old apples and a cup of flour lying around… Pie is good. We can do Pie. Thanks for the tip, Marie!” and a whole load of trouble could have been avoided.

From new year, new food

If you had trouble following where I was going here, I just want to let you know that I’ve baked a couple of pies in the last few weeks, both of which were awesome, both of which used apples, but for now I’m going to focus on the one I just baked, Apple Pie with Cheddar Crust, because I’m pretty sure this isn’t a common type of apple pie, and HELLO it introduced me in a roundabout way to an apparently very American tradition that I was out of the loop on: a slice of apple pie with a crumbly hunk of cheddar cheese.

*Side note: So...I guess people all over the country eat this? I don’t get it, so someone, at some point, will have to show me how to do this. What do you do? Grate some on top? Put a slice on the side? Is the pie hot or cold? I get apples and cheese, but I honestly would very much like to have someone explain to me how this works, and I will gladly follow because I’m uber curious how that hot mess would taste. End note*

From new year, new food

Gourmet (may you R.I.P., dear magazine) had a great article in their amazing September issue about Apple Pie with a Cheddar Crust, a clever take on this tradition. Kari baked one last week and added cloves to hers, so when Vanessa came over after a long day at work last week, we figured some cinnamon and nutmeg wouldn’t hurt, and neither would a small decrease in the sugar, and everything STILL worked out swimmingly! I have half of a pie sitting in my fridge which I spontaneously eat for either breakfast, tea time, or dessert, all of which are good pie-eating times. Especially when that day is Saturday and you have all the pie-eating time in the world.

From new year, new food

The crust was on the crispy-buttery side and reminded me of the flavor of a good cheese cracker while the apples were bright, tangy, and perfectly balanced in their sweetness. In short, it is a lovely, warm, comforting and completely Fall-y type of pie that would be a sweet addition to the marathon of all of my favorite comfort foods in one sitting: THANKSGIVING!!!


If anything, next time I’ll just add more cheese because this time I had cut off a big hunk for lunch earlier in the day and deprived my new pie of even more cheese-awesomeness in the crust.

Dear Apple Pie with Cheddar Crust: please don’t be mad, I won’t let you down again… it’s just that I really love sharp cheddar and couldn’t help myself from stealing a bit from you. Uh… I’ll try not to do it again. Toodles.