Shelby shares the love for Joanne Chang, who will be signing her cookbook on Saturday, September 24 from 1-1:45pm, at our first ever Local Market in Boston. We’re delighted that Daily Candy just included the event in their Weekend Guide. We hope you can come! -Maggie

While I have been accused of being obsessive about different meals, restaurants, and chefs before, I can safely say that I’m not alone with my love for Boston’s Joanne Chang. She is a culinary star in our fair city and has now begun to earn the national recognition that she so deserves. I don’t often let myself splurge on bakery treats, but I never seem to mind when I visit Flour Bakery and I knew I would be one of the first in line to get my hands on her new cookbook.  So there I was, buying Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston’s Flour Bakery + Café the first day it was available at Flour’s Fort Point outpost.

Flipping through the beautiful book last Fall, I had about 30 recipes flagged and made good use of her cookbook straight away. I started with the Roasted Pear and Cranberry Crostada, to the delight of those who also enjoyed eating the dessert. Though a bit complicated, it came together beautifully and taught me a lot about baking.  That may be the best thing about this cookbook: you can learn a hell of a lot from a great baker in very simple and straightforward ways. And, of course, the recipes for some of Flour’s most famous treats — banana bread, sticky buns, cornmeal lime cookies, decadent chocolate cupcakes — don’t hurt either.

As the fall progressed, so did my love for this cookbook (and the Flour Bakeries). I made the big decision to invite Flour Bakery to be involved in my November 2010 wedding. I had searched high and low for a great wedding favor, one that meant something to us as a couple but that would be a nice little (delicious) thank you to our guests, many of whom traveled to Boston to celebrate with us. Finally, I realized that for us, that meant Flour.  The next day, I called up the bakery and ordered 160 of Flour’s homemade Oreo cookies. It was the right choice. I still have friends and family asking me about our tasty favors, and I know because of this, I have given myself the gift of a Flour Oreos for endless anniversaries to come. I can’t wait to make my own version from the cookbook this fall!

For all the reasons listed above, Joanne Chang’s cookbook is still a hot commodity in this town and beyond. Those of you who live in the greater Boston area are already lucky to be close enough to have a Flour habit, but also because you can attend this Saturday’s Eat Boutique Local Market, where Joanne will be signing and selling her wonderful cookbook from 1-1:45pm. So get there early and get yourself a copy of this fantastic baking resource.  As it turns out, Joanne isn’t just an amazing baker, restaurateur and cookbook author; she is also totally charming and sweet. Warning: you will become obsessed too.

Roasted Pear and Cranberry Crostada

By Joanne Chang, from the Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston’s Flour Bakery + Cafe (For more details and suggestions on the timing and staging of this crostada, see my original post on Lady Gouda.)

Ingredients

• 9 Bosc Pears, peeled, halved and cored
• 1 inch knob of ginger, thinly sliced
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut up into 4 pieces
• Pate Brisee (recipe below)
• Frangipane (recipe below)
• 1 cup fresh or frozen cranberries
• 1 egg, lightly beaten
• 2 tablespoons sanding sugar

Directions

1. Position a rack in the center of the oven, and heat the oven to 400 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a 9-by-13-inch baking pan, toss together the pears, ginger, granulated sugar, and butter. Roast, stirring occasionally, for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, or until the pears are soften when pieces with a knife tip and golden. Let cool completely. (The pears can be roasted up to 5 days in advance and stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator.)
3. Remove the dough from the refrigerator. On a well-flour work surface, roll out the dough into a circle about 12 inches in diameter and 1/4 inch thick. Place the dough circle on the prepared baking sheet (I used a pizza pan here, since the round shape seemed like it would make a good fit).
4. Using the back of a spoon or a small rubber spatula, spread the frangipane in the middle of the dough round in a circle about 9 inches in diameter, leaving a 3 inch border uncovered.
5. Place about 8 pear halves, cut side down, in a circle in a single layer on top of the frangipane, lining the up with the edge of the frangipane and with the stem ends pointing towards the middle. Place 1 or 2 pear halves in the center to cover the frangipane circle completely. Sprinkle 3/4 cup of the cranberries evenly on top of the pears. Top the first layer of pears with a second layer of pears, using about 7 halves and reserving 1 pear half, arranging them in a smaller concentric circle. Sprinkle the remaining 1/4 cup of cranberries evenly on top of the second layer of pears.
6. Place the reserved pear half on a cutting board. Using a paring knife, and starting at the squat bottom end, cut four or five lengthwise slices, stopping just short of the stem end. Fan the slices, and place the pear half in the center of second layer of pear halves. Starting at one side of the crostada, fold the 3-inch border of dough up and over the fruit, forming six to eight loose pleats around the perimeter and pressing the pleats firmly together onto the fruit. The center of the crostada will remain exposed in a 3- to 4- inch circle, showing off the fanned pear. Refrigerate the assembled crostada for at least 1 hour before baking. (At this point, the crostada can be covered with plastic wrap and stored in the refrigerator for up to 1 day before baking.)
7. Position a rack in the center of the oven, and heat the oven to 350 degrees F.
8. Brush the pleated pastry with the beaten egg, then sprinkle evenly with the sanding sugar. Bake for about 1 hours and 20 minutes, or until the pleats are golden brown. Make sure all of the folds are evenly browned, so there are no chewy underbaked bits of dough in the finished crostada. Let cool on the pan on a wire rack for at least 2 hours. Serve warm or at room temperature. The crostada can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 days.

Pate Brisee II

Makes about 10 oz dough, enough for one 9 inch single crust pie or a 10 inch crostada

Ingredients

• 1 cup unbleached all purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons flour
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon (1 stick butter plus 1 tablespoon) cold unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces
• 1 egg yolk
• 2 tablespoons cold milk

Directions

1. Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or a handheld mixer), mix together the flour, sugar, and salt. Scatter the butter over the top and mix on low speed for about 45 seconds or until the flour is no longer bright white and holds together when you clump it and pecan-size lumps of butter are visible throughout.
2. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolk and milk until blended. Add to the flour-butter mixture all at once. Mix on low speed for about 30 seconds, or until the dough barely comes together. It will look really shaggy and more like a mess than a dough.
3. Dump the dough out onto an unfloured work surface and gather it into a tight mound. Using your palm and starting on one starting on one side of the mound, smear the dough bit by bit, starting at the top of the mound and then sliding your palm down the side and along the work surface (at Flour we call this “going down the mountain”), until most of the butter chunks are smeared into the dough and the dough comes together. Do this once or twice on each part of the dough, moving through the mound until the whole mess has been smeared into a cohesive dough with streaks of butter. (This was hard for me, I added a tiny bit more milk, which helped things move along here…)
4. Gather up the dough, wrap tightly in plastic wrap, and press down to flatten into a dish about 1 inch thick. Refrigerate for at least four hours before using. The dough will keep in the refrigerator for up to four days or in the freezer for up to one month.

Frangipane (Almond Cream)

Yield: Makes about 1 cup

Ingredients

• 1/3 cup blanched whole almonds, or 1/2 cup almond flour
• 1/4 cup unsalted butter (1/2 stick), at room temperature
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 egg
• 2 teaspoons unbleached all purpose flour
• 1/8 teaspoon vanilla extract
• pinch of kosher salt

Directions

1. If using whole almonds, grind them in a good processor as finely as possibly without turning them into a paste. Set aside. (I couldn’t find whole blanched almonds at the store so I crossed my fingers and used slivered almonds here- worked like a dream. Also just used my mini-cuisinart, which produced a perfect grind.)
2. Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or a hand held mixer as I did- you can also use a wooden spoon), cream together the butter and sugar on medium speed for 1 to 2 minutes, or until light. Add the ground almonds or almond flour and beat on medium speed for 1 minute, or until thoroughly incorporated. Stop the mixer and scrape the bottom and the sides of the bowl.
3. On low speed, beat in the egg. Add the all-purpose flour, vanilla and salt and mix until combined.  You should have about one cup. Use immediately, or store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to one week, then let site for a few hours at room temperature before using. Or, freeze in an airtight container for up to three weeks, then thaw it in the refrigerator before freezing.

All photos by Shelby Larsson, except for the lead photo of the Oreos (taken by Candice Cruz Dintino).

Eat Boutique is an online magazine + market for food enthusiasts to celebrate the best pure, local + comforting handmade foods. We call it: food that hugs you back. Looking for the perfect gift? Eat Boutique sells gift boxes filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send food that hugs you back today.

Did you know we’re hosting our first Local Market on September 24, 2011 in Boston?

As a kid, one of my all-time favorite summer treats was the classic ice cream sandwich. Remember the ones that came out of a bell-ringing tricycle cart? The jingle-ling from the Good Humour or Dickie Dee guy sent us all running home begging for change. Because July is National Ice Cream month, and because it’s hot and I want ice cream sandwiches, and because they are so cute tied in neat little packages when company’s coming, I had to make them.

How cute would you be pulling these little parcels of frozen good stuff out of your picnic hamper? Martha says wrap it in plastic; I say wrap it in parchment and store for a week in the freezer, if it lasts that long.

Begin by preheating oven to 350 degrees. Butter a pan and line it with parchment, leaving extra on ends for grip. I didn’t have a jelly roll pan, and used a 9″ x 13″ pan instead. Not all the batter fit, so the excess went onto a lined cookie sheet.

Martha Stewart’s recipe is quick and simple to put together. To the melted butter, add sugar, egg, vanilla and salt.

Add cocoa and flour, and mix until smooth.

Spread an even thin layer, and bake till cake begins to pull away from the sides.

Cool cake completely. Cut in half, and place it back in the pan (lined in plastic wrap). Spread softened ice cream. Sandwich other half over the top. I found it helpful to put the whole pan with the cake in the freezer for a few minutes just before assembly. Wrap tightly in plastic, and chill in freezer until hard.

Remove from freezer, unwrap plastic and cut with a serrated knife. Have your parchment and string ready. Wrap individual sandwiches and put in freezer before they melt.

You can serve them in an ice bucket.

These are actually mini sandwiches, just enough to hit the spot. Next time, I will try a no-bake version of a coconut cream pie: with graham crackers, coconut ice cream, and sides rolled in toasted coconut. The possibilities are endless, use your favorite ice cream and have fun.

Classic Ice Cream Sandwiches

Adapted from Martha Stewart’s recipe

Makes 8 bars, or 16 mini-bars

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted, plus more for pan
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 large egg
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled)
• 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 2 pints ice cream (any flavor), softened

Directions

Preheat oven to 350. Butter a 15-by-10-inch jelly-roll pan (a cookie sheet  or rectangular cake pan would work too); line with parchment paper, leaving a 2-inch overhang on the two shorter sides.

In a medium bowl, whisk together butter and sugar until combined; whisk in egg, vanilla, and salt until combined. Add flour and cocoa, and mix just until smooth. Spread in prepared baking pan. Bake until cake is dry to the touch and edges begin to pull away from the sides, 10 to 12 minutes. Cool completely in pan.

Using paper overhang, lift cake onto a work surface. With a serrated knife, halve crosswise. Place one half of cake, flat side down, on a large piece of plastic wrap. Spread with ice cream, then top with remaining half of cake, flat side up. Return ice-cream sandwich to baking pan, and wrap tightly in plastic. Freeze until firm, about 2 hours.

Unwrap sandwich; using a serrated knife, cut into 8 rectangles, wiping off blade between each cut. Serve ice-cream sandwiches immediately. To store, wrap individually in plastic (or parchment and tie with baker’s string) and freeze up to 1 week.

All photos styled and taken Jill Chen.

Eat Boutique is an online magazine + market for food enthusiasts to celebrate the best pure, local + comforting handmade foods. We call it: food that hugs you back. Looking for the perfect gift? Eat Boutique sells gift boxes filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send food that hugs you back today.

Last week, I followed one of my favorite chefs to the country. Chef Jason Bond of Bondir restaurant in Cambridge, Massachusetts, launched the Whim dinner series at Smolak Farms, a weekly Wednesday night event that places amazing urban chefs in the bucolic setting of a remote country farm.

Imagine green garden soup with fresh summer truffle and strawberry semifreddo with pistachio shortbread enjoyed under a tent in a field by a pond. It couldn’t have been more delicious and, very quickly into the evening, the group of strangers around our shared dinner table became good friends, yapping about our dogs and our desperate need to escape our fast-paced life for something far more civilized, in the woods.

Tickets are still available for this Wednesday night series. If you’d like to know a bit more about what to expect at one of these lovely events, I’ve put together a little photo essay of our evening. I hope you’re able to enjoy a nice meal in a field at some point this summer, whether at Smolak or in your own back yard.

Eat Boutique is an online magazine + market for food enthusiasts to celebrate the best pure, local + comforting handmade foods. We call it: food that hugs you back. Looking for the perfect gift? Eat Boutique sells a handmade gift box filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send an Eat Boutique gift box today.

All of us at Eat Boutique are into cookbooks, often reading them like graphic novels before we slip toward sleep each night. But books about cooks have a favorite place in our kitchens too and the talented filmmaker/writer Luke Poling has offered to share his perspective on his favorites. Please welcome Luke in the comments. Thanks, as well, to two NYC-based photographers: Jason Frank Rothenberg for use of the lead photo on this page and Daniel Krieger for use of the second photo. And, of course, congratulations to Gabrielle Hamilton, 2011 James Beard Award Winner. -Maggie

I should start out by saying that I’ve never worked in a restaurant, though I’ve secretly longed for the chance.  The camaraderie, the teamwork, banding together to complete a service, it sounds like it would be a great time.  Of course, any restaurant veteran would laugh at my use of the phrase “great time.”  I am aware of the simple but true fact that restaurant folk are a different breed: tough, strong and dedicated.  Reading chef Gabrielle Hamilton’s memoir, “Blood, Bones & Butter,” my admiration only grows.

Hamilton grew up in Pennsylvania on a farm that sounds like something out of a Winslow Homer painting.  The family spent most of their time outside, exploring and eating what they found.  From fiddlehead ferns to certain snails and mushrooms, Hamilton grew up in a household unafraid of new tastes.  She spent hours and days outside with her siblings, some nights building a fire and arranging their sleeping bags around it.  Her description of one of these evenings is one of the first standout moments in the book.  “I quietly thrilled to be packed into my sleeping bag right up next to them… This whole perfect night when everyone is still, pretty much, intact and wholesome, is where I sometimes want the party to stop.”

Of course the party did stop.  Her parents split up, the pastoral scene turning ugly.  Hamilton found her first restaurant job at 13, lying about her age, and then ended up in New York City at 17, (again fudging the age question to get the gig,) she found herself in a wild lifestyle; stealing cars, drugs, sexual experimentation and working insanely long hours, first as a waitress, then as a caterer.

In the summers, Hamilton worked at a camp in western Massachusetts, re-connecting with food in a way that catering couldn’t provide. Then one day she found herself staring at an empty restaurant space in Manhattan’s Greenwich Village.  Having no idea of what she was in for, and on a complete whim, Hamilton decided to open a restaurant.  It would be called Prune, (her mother’s pet name for her,) and, for Hamilton, it would be the first plan she would have in a life that, until that point, was made up of winging it.

It’s hard to say that “Blood, Bones & Butter,” is a feel good book, since Hamilton is always and continuously open and honest about her mistakes, flaws and shortcomings.  But it is that human side of her writing that draws you in and keeps you turning the pages.  Not every chef’s memoirs consist of wonderful writing and paragraphs that you immediately re-read after finishing them, to soak up all the language and imagery.  (I’m looking at you, Marco Pierre-White.) Hamilton even makes the heartbreaking sections of the book beautiful.  When she’s on vacation in Italy visiting her husband’s family, (to whom she has fallen in love with… possibly more than her husband who she married to keep in the US,) Hamilton goes to a farmer’s market and decries what markets in the US have become.  She tells the story of a pretentious girl she saw at a market in Manhattan.  Hamilton compares that to a market in Italy, where one vendor has his pants held up by string, placing all his wares into re-used supermarket plastic bags.  “He’s everything I grew up with,” Hamilton says of the disheveled grocer, “he’s the end of an era, he’s the last of what it was like to just be a good eater and a good grower.  A time when we grew it and cooked it and ate it and didn’t talk so much about it.”

Blood, bones and butter is not just the title of the book, it’s also a mantra.  Evocative of the simplistic food that Hamilton strives to serve, this mantra states that good ingredients make great food.  It’s her love of food and people that come shining through in the end.  Hamilton isn’t preaching revolution, but it’s easy to get onboard with.  If you’ve ever enjoyed a simple salad made with whatever is fresh or savored the taste of meat or fish right off the grill, you’re already part of Hamilton’s congregation.  It’s hard not to buy into an ethos like this when the preacher is so compelling.

Luke Poling is a writer and filmmaker living in Boston. His first feature film, a documentary called “Plimpton! Starring George Plimpton as Himself,” will premiere late 2011/early 2012.  He’s on Twitter and on-line at www.plimptonmovie.com.  He once ate a Double Down from KFC and almost instantly regretted it.

Photo credits: (1) Gabrielle photographed by Jason Frank Rothenberg for Elle magazine, April 2011 issue; (2) Daniel Krieger; (3) Christopher Hirsheimer; (4) Molly Sheridan. If you’d like to get a copy of “Blood, Bones & Butter,” we suggest that you frequent these small bookstores: Rabelais Books, Powell’s Books, and Brookline Booksmith.

I am going to let you in on five little secrets.

First, (secret #1) it’s tough to put these words out there but I have totally over-extended myself. Sometimes, I feel like I have 10 different jobs.

Eat Boutique is my passion, my heart, really. But it certainly battles for my free time, up against taking care of my house and family, getting my garden to grow (seedlings below), making sure I take a walk now and again, supporting my friends and my other big priority, seeing the world.

I traveled all last year, living in Paris for four months. If you don’t know, (secret #2) I’m actually a member of the Haven in Paris team and write for Hip Paris too. I’m one of the lucky ones; I love my gig. I talk to other passionate travelers all day, and help them live the Paris dream. We’re actually looking for a bit of help over there: maybe you’d like to join our team?

(Brief pause for a Paris photo interlude…)

Still, between all of these projects and commitments, the holidays regrettably take a back seat. I’m often whipping up menus and designing a day of festivities at the very last moment. It always works out in a fairly imperfect way, which is all right by me, I suppose. I’ve never heard a complaint.

But about two weeks ago, I decided to host an Easter lunch. Knowing I’d be in the midst of sending these pretty Spring gift boxes to your family and friends, I decided to continue to over-extend myself and host a little party for my out-of-town family. I’m nuts. But really, it’s worth it.

You see, (secret #3) my Mom’s been sick for a while and is finally on the mend. She demanded a bit of Champagne to celebrate her recovery and, as Easter is all about new beginnings, I agreed it was a very perfect time to drink 10 bottles of the good stuff in her honor.

For this Sunday lunch, I forced myself to do a little planning. (Who wants to waste 10 bottles of Champagne on bad food?)

Thank goodness this planning coincided with a flurry of new cookbooks. I’m in love with each new one that comes in the mail, but am, as ever, most in love with the latest gorgeousness that is the Canal House Cookbook.

My dear friends (in my head anyway), Melissa and Christopher, have produced an inspiring tome that makes me want to spend all day in the kitchen with them. While (secret #4) I am a fellow Jersey girl, I haven’t received any invitations in the mail yet. (Though I did get a card with their pretty signatures… What? Everyone gets those? Sigh…)

I’m not counting any chickens, but have still planned an Easter meal (secret #5) completely inspired by the spring batch of Canal House recipes. With a little preparation and few of my own adjustments thrown in to keep it real, I’m certain these very easy recipes will make my event effortless. So in lieu of detailed recipes, I’m sharing my menu for the day. And, thanks to my fellow Jersey ladies, I can go on living under the guise that I’ve got it all together.

It’ll just be our little secret.

I’m raising a glass of bubbly to you all for continuing to read this site (thank you!), and hoping my family doesn’t. And now… onto the best part: the food!

Easter Lunch 2011

Starters

Boiled Local Eggs, Halved
Topped with Maine shrimp and a pesto of local greens

Handmade Local Fish Cakes (p. 76)
With a lemon-egg yolk sauce (p. 40)

Asparagus Tart
Puff pastry baked with asparagus, salt, olive oil and not much else

Main Course

Fresh Escarole Salad (p. 49)
With preserved lemon and black pepper

Easter Ham (p. 104)
With apple cider, brown sugar, mustard and bread crumbs

Green Lentils (p. 67)
With roasted beets and chopped fresh herbs

Dessert

Meringues (p. 105)
With rhubarb roasted in red wine and whip cream

Looking for the perfect gift for Easter or Mother’s Day? Eat Boutique offers a gift box filled with handmade sweet and savory treats. Send food that hugs you back today.

A few of us over at Eat Boutique – okay, perhaps all of us! – are in love with Joanne Chang. She’s started several fabulous Boston-area bakeries that showcase, among other delicious goodies, some of the best cinnamon rolls around; they’re so good they were even featured on the Food Network. Joanne and a great crew also run one of our favorite Asian restaurants, Myers + Chang. All this and she’s still had time to thoroughly embrace Twitter, feeding us behind the scenes info on all her restaurants as it all happens. When you feel a local chef has gotten too big, we remember Joanne as the perennial ’boutique’ chef, always making it happen on her own with small-biz spirit and homegrown perspective.

If you love Joanne as much as we do, then you can hear her speak for free this Friday, May 7 at the Museum of Science. Along with Corby Krummer (senior editor for the Atlantic Monthly) and food sustainability expert Helene York, Joanne will be discussing two often-competing loves: our passion for good food vs. our desire to save the planet. Seating is limited but free passes are available at the Museum of Science lobby starting at 5:45pm for the 7pm discussion. Learn more about this worthwhile event, and make sure to tell them that Joanne’s fans at Eat Boutique sent you.

Photos by thegirlwiththecamera, Ghetto of our Mind and Cake and Commerce.

I learned about big LITTLE Get Together, a personal chef service based on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, a few weeks ago. Founders Flannery Klette-Kolton and Lauren Gerrie are the ultimate hostesses, putting their big hearts toward creating contemporary urban cuisine with amazing ingredients. They shared these lovely recipes, recipes that made me want to hug them, with GOOP. Check this out: Eggnog popsicles? Yum. Spiced kettlecorn? Perfect for the holidays. And their recipe for Prosecco with Cherries and Thyme made me smile.

These lovely ladies graciously offered to answer a few questions for Eat Boutique readers. Thank you, ladies! And we all wish you the best of luck with your wonderful boutique business.

EB: What’s your favorite, easy holiday hors d’oeuvre?

I have a thing for Deirdre Heekin and Caleb Barber. This thing is more like a crush, a serious crush. Well, perhaps it’s more like a rabid fascination with and aspiration for what they are… a sweet couple who cares so much about authentic food and old-fashioned hospitality that they’ve carved a great life for themselves and their guests out of some green hills in Vermont.

I met them about five years ago when I stumbled upon Osteria Pane e Salute, their unique and very special restaurant in Woodstock, Vermont. Their menu elevates Vermont’s local harvest with the techniques of real Italian cooking, skills acquired during their Italian honeymoon and on every return trip since. They’re so into Italy that they now even host adventures there, in conjunction with Garber Travel.

Deirdre and Caleb have written several books. I smile every time I cook from Pane e Salute: Food and Love in Italy and Vermont as it’s this cookbook that introduced me to the story behind my fabulous meal. (They’re “Salmone al Pepe Verde” on page 231 always impresses my guests.) I devoured In Late Winter We Ate Pears, as it’s serious and too charming for words.

And on my bedside table sits the little book titled Libation: A Bitter Alchemy, one that fascinates me as I’m permanently tempted to put my cordial-making skills to work nurturing and bottling my very own wine. Perhaps I will someday, and I’ll have learned a mouthful or two from Deirdre’s treasured experiences that she documents in Libation. Meg Houston Maker recently profiled Deirdre at Palate Press. It’s a beautifully written review of the couple’s growing vineyard called La Garagista, Deirdre’s book and Deirdre in general. Get yourself here to read it.

Why post about Deirdre and Caleb now? I’m reminiscing. I typically visit their special restaurant every Autumn, but missed them this year. They close the restaurant during the month of November. But lucky for me, and those who live near Boston, Massachusetts, the inspired couple will be discussing In Late Winter We Ate Pears at the Andover Bookstore on Wednesday, November 4th. You may have to wait until ski season to dine at their restaurant again, but there’s no need to put off getting their latest books. Their fine words will delight you during these cold upcoming months.

[Photographer Peter Miller shot the above photo for their book jacket. I use it here with respect for Mr. Miller's fine photography skills.]

Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to meet Ina Garten, the Barefoot Contessa. It was an incredibly intimate affair, one I shared with a close friend of mine and about… 2,000 other people. Yes, I was one of THOSE people who waited in line for two hours to purchase copies of her new book “Back to Basics: Fabulous Flavor from Simple Ingredients” and get her signature inside those pretty, pristine, chartreuse-spiked pages.

It was quite the community affair, one that involved sore feet, lots of coffee and loads of gabbing on our attempts, both failures and successes, with the Contessa’s recipes. We exchanged techniques, remembered previous books and familiar recipes, and complained about the rules.

Yes, there were distinct rules to be followed if we wanted our few seconds with the Contessa. First, there was simply no time for her to personalize messages, so a straight signature would have to do. Second, the Contessa would only sign books purchased at the venue. And lastly, we could certainly take photos but could not expect the Contessa to pose for photos. She was a bit busy signing her name 2,000 times.

The crowd that assembled to welcome her to Boston was excited to be in each other’s company but grumpy about her rules. Apparently, we should be so lucky to get a few seconds with her…

Regardless, I must admit, I felt a bit lucky and quite a bit star-struck. The Food Network star was every bit the elegant, gracious home cook you would expect her to be; she radiated the same poise and warmth that comes across in her show. No matter how much we all complained in line, when we met her for those brief moments, we were charmed and delighted. Our issues vanished and we simply smile proudly and broadly, sort of like she did for all those many hours.

Alas, when I did finally step before her, I went radio silent. After two hours’ time spent developing an editorial strategy, when the moment arrived, I had no words to express my excitement, joy and gratitude to her. I think I muttered something about the elegance of her recipes and style and the color chartreuse (my favorite!) and blah blah blah. I probably said the exact same thing the 900 or so before me had uttered (minus the chartreuse bit).

I was so disappointed in myself, so much so that here I am taking a second chance, knowing that while she may miss out on this message, all of you will hear it. And, perhaps, in some bizarre way, saying it here may mean more than saying it to her. So here goes…


Dear Contessa,

May I call you Contessa? I feel like I’ve known you for years, so Contessa somehow sounds appropriate. (Or would you prefer being called Ina? I can do that too.) Either way, consider yourself addressed with the utmost respect and appreciation.

I only have a few moments with you, so I’ll try to be brief. Yes, I know you can’t talk nor pose for photos. (Your handlers are fairly stern, eh?) No worries, I do feel like we’re old enough friends that words and photos are so not necessary. We’ve built a bond that transcends those silly things, no? Yes, all 2000 of us in line feel the same way, but that somehow seems appropriate too, no?

I wanted to express my sincere gratitude for how easy you make everything look. I do adore more complex chefs and the results of their intricate recipes with deep lists of hard-to-find ingredients. But I appreciate your simplicity. You sure know how to make the Hamptons lifestyle seem coordinated, perfect, accessible and attainable. Thanks for that.

In reality, we know it’s nearly impossible to build that lifestyle and while we may strive an entire lifetime, very few of us will have that large estate near the beach, a brand new barn stocked with every possible party necessity and a well-to-do husband who loves everything we put before him. But a girl can dream, right?

And through your show and fabulous on-screen persona, we do dream. You’ve permitted us to think we can have all that and whip up a fancy three-course dinner in under an hour. And for that, I am eternally grateful. I’d dare say that everyone else in line is too.

I may never have the Hamptons estate but frankly, the Hamptons were never really my thing. I have what I need – a home I strive to keep semi-coordinated and clean, a big barn that may be falling apart but oozes the potential for big extravagant parties and a husband that’s well-enough-to-do for me who permits me to experiment ferociously, with your recipes and others, and has made me believe I’m the best cook/entertainer/host on the planet.

So I wanted to thank you for permitting me to believe I could be just like you, in my own little way. I sincerely appreciate how easy you’ve made everything seem, as you’ve resurrected the idea that simplicity is beautiful and that most of us will never, nor would ever want to be Thomas Keller or Wylie Dufresne. (No offense, sirs. Your restaurants and talent are amazing, but I’d prefer to pay a small fortune for one of your meals than do all the training necessary to make those recipes myself. Sipping delicious foams = good thing! Making delicious foam = kinda hard!)

Anyway, we all secretly want to ooze ease, simplicity and charm like you, Contessa. And I don’t really care what Mrs. Julia Child thinks, you do have charm and smothered us with it at the book signing. We were in love and I can only hope that you sensed that underlying amorousness bleeding from our sore, tired feet.

So I thank you. All 2,000 of us thank you. Hell, my husband especially thanks you. And while we may never meet nor exchange actual words, I think you sense our gratitude. And I hope you continue to write these fairly simple, accessible books, though I may skip the waiting in line next time and pick up the book on Amazon, where it’s 45% off. (What’s up with that?)

Anyway, all my love to you and Jeffrey. Oh, and I hope you opt to ‘eat boutique’ more often – there are plenty of young, up-and-coming, indie chefs who could stand to learn a thing or two from your keep-it-simple techniques.

Kisses,
Maggie B.