6160 A Diary of the Urban Gardener and Cook

Laura Calder is my absolute favorite chef.  She really does make the complex simple, and where Italian cooking is, by and large, "rustic" (ie, simple), French cooking is not.  Her approach and lecture style put it within reach, which is nice for cooks like me who have little to no time for heavy, stylistically dependent recipes.

Often her recipes, especially salads and appetizers, call for Goat Cheese ("Chevre") at some point in the process.   To be honest, I have never eaten Goat Cheese as much as I have in the last ten to twelve months as I've delved further and further into her cookbooks.  And as I've gotten more and more atuned to Beekman1802 Goat Cheese (Blaak), it all just seemed to come together in an awesome Radicchio salad.

I absolutely love Radicchio.  A member of the chicory family, it is both bitter and spicy.  Radicchio is definitely big in Italy, where it is often grilled with abit of olive oil;  however, it's equally at home in Belgium in quite a number of dishes - so for me this vegetable is an absolute win-win...

For this salad, you will need

Radicchio, about a pound, shredded

Goat Cheese, about half a pound, shredded and/or crumbled

Golden Raisins, about half a pound

Balsamic Vinegar

Olive Oil

Place the raisins in a small bowl and drizzle the Balsamic Vinegar over them.  You want them well soaked but not "floating", so about four to five tablespoons generally fits the bill.  Set aside and let them marinate for ten to fifteen minutes.  Pour the raisins and vinegar over the Radicchio in a serving bowl.  Add the goat cheese, drizzle with olive oil, and gently toss (using your hands is best). 

Enjoy..,

Sometimes the weather just "speaks" to you and tells you need to start making a particular dish.  As temperatures wobbled in January from a high of 50 one day to a high of 15 the next, I can only assume my blood wasn't sure whether to thicken or thin (so I felt perpetually cold...).  And Baked Ziti began sounding better and better.

As a child, I recall it was hard at times to determine if we were eating Baked Ziti or Lasagna because my mother's recipe called for ricotta in both - it was only when you actually doing the serving or got the noodles in your line of sight that you could make the call.  When the only main variance is the noodle cut or shape, forget it, I'm bored...  So as I thought about Baked Ziti and the cold, I slightly morphed the recipe to something with a more unique taste (to differentiate from Lasagna) and kickup the heat ever so slightly.

At 6160, we are completely enamoured with Barilla Plus pastas.  All of them are multigrain - not whole wheat (whole wheat pastas make me feel like I've drank a six pack of Guiness Stout) and loaded with Omega3 (increasingly important for those of us who have cruised past the forty year mark and are thinking about heart health).  For this Baked Ziti recipe, of course Barilla Plus Penne figures into the equation...

You will need
One box Barilla Plus Penne pasta

Roasted Red Peppers (3-4 sizable strips cut into slivers)

1/2 pound Hot Salciccia

Garlic, minced

Yellow Onion, diced

Eight to Ten cocktail tomatoes, halved

Tomato puree

Water (as needed)

Two Roma tomatoes, diced

Olive oil

Red Pepper flakes

Sugar

Fleur de Sel

Course Black Pepper

1/2 pound Fontina Cheese, cubed

1/4 pound Parmesian Cheese, shaved

1/2 pound Mozzarella Cheese, shredded

Handful of fresh Basil

Italian Spices

Preheat the oven at 395 degrees and on the stove, fill a large pasta pot with water and set to boil.  Add the Penne to the water when boiling, and cook.  Do not overcook, and know that Barilla Plus pastas always have an al dente quality to them due to being multigrain (this is something I really like).  When fully cooked, drain the pasta in a colander and set aside. 

Next, begin browning the Salciccia in a skillet on medium high heat.  Using a wooden spoon, break the sausage apart into mouth sized bits.  Reduce the heat in the skillet to medium, as you do not want to overcook...  To this, add the garlic and onions, cooking just long enough for the garlic to turn golden and the onions to soften and become translucent.  Again, don't overcook...  Pour the tomato puree over this mixture, which will immediately slow the cooking process entirely.  Add a pinch of sugar, two pinches of Fleur de Sel, and Black Pepper to taste (we like alot of pepper).  Add the diced tomatoes and roasted red peppers, as well as two pinches of red pepper flakes for heat.  Drizzle a few dallops of olive oil on top and stir gently into the sauce.  it is important at this point to consider the sauce - if it appears too thick for your liking, add water or more olive oil to thin somewhat.   For my part, I've never had to add more liquids but it's all a matter of personal preference.  Finally, add the Italian Spices (go heavy handed) and gently stir into the sauce.

Take a rectangular baking pan, spray the bottom and sides with nonstick spray, and add a couple spoonfuls of the pasta sauce to the bottom of the pan.  Next add roughly half of the Penne pasta to the pan, atop which you will add half of the Fontina, Parmesian and Mozzarella.  Shred half of the fresh basil and scatter across the mixture.  Pour half of the pasta sauce on top of the noodle and cheese mixture, then add all the remaining noodles, nearly all the cheese (reserve abit), all the remaining basil, and add all the remaining sauce.  Sprinkle the reserved cheese on top of the entire mixture to ensure you get a crispy brown cheesy top, and bake in the oven until you see the cheese browing and crisping like pizza (approximately fifteen minutes).

The dish will look and smell phenomenal.  The Fontina is a wonderful melting cheese and combines beautifully with the sharp taste of the Parmesian and the mellowness of the Mozzarella.  The Salciccia ensures a spicy, meaty flavor with just the right amount of heat.   Often with pasta I recommend a loaf of crusty bread, but this really is a one dish meal to enjoy as is...

Thanks so much for the relentless emails over the last few weeks.  Yes, I've been offline for abit; while work has required a good amount of time closing out 2011 and preparing associates for 2012 objectives, I've also gone back to school for French language training as well as Italian cooking.  With a trip to Belgium just weeks away, the idea of becoming fully fluent in French became increasingly intriguing to me.  Further, with many of my recipes moving in my repertoire from "new" to "go to", I needed to continue expanding my capabilities on the cooking front.

If time permits this weekend, I'll begin filling the site with some of my newest "successful" recipes, from Baked Ziti - Penne to Lemon Turkey Cutlets to Butternut Squash Soup with Ricotta Quenelles. 

January is always an interesting time at 6160.   While most of my gardening friends have moved to "armchair gardening" (a phrase coined for those individuals who in the absence of the ability to garden at all because of the Winter season turn to reading about gardening to fill the time) we suddenly discovered that our kitchen project of replacing the old birch countertop with solid quartz was going to need to shift forward rather quickly.  Right after a wonderful New Years Eve party we found the telltale split in the wood by the sink (the sink and its constant exposure to water is the downfall of wood countertops everywhere...).  As I outlined the kitchen project for our contractor, the customary "while he's doing this I think I'm gonna changeout that" scenario began to take place in my mind; and of course, I began to introduce my changes before he even got started.  As such, the kitchen is already beginning to morph to make it both more functional and (in my estimation) attractive.

January is also the month where as Christmas decorations come down and the house returns to a sense of normalcy, the functional evaluation of the space takes place.  Coming right out of the holidays it was clear we needed yet more storage at 6160.   A key change many of you noted in the "Early Winter Interiors" photo log I started a couple weeks ago was the storage chest I built in the Living Room.  Its artistic "mentor" if you will was the milk crate sitting in the second floor sitting room.  What made it fun was taking a chain and beating the living daylights out of it to distress it, then decoupaging an old French winery label to it. 

While for most of St Louis' residents January is a month where cabin fever has just begun to set in, French classes, Cooking classes, and changeouts to the 19th Century Kitchen at 6160 have me completely occupied; to be honest, I'm glad not to have the opportunity to go into the gardens right now - at least I can stay focused!

So stay tuned - recipes are on the way...

With a trip planned this spring to revisit my favorite place on the planet, I thought it might be a great idea to drop in a few quick hits on why everyone should find time to visit this wonderful place.  Belgium truly is the most beautiful country in the world.  While many of the traditional European haunts have a negative caveat tied to some aspect of where they're visiting (common examples we all hear: I love Germany and London but...good grief the food...  I love Paris and Milan but... good grief they're so expensive...  I love Rome and Athens but... good grief they're so dirty...), there are no caveats to Belgium and it literally lights the soul on fire.  This writing could belabour all the winning aspects of Belgian culture - its food (imagine the very best of French food... in German quantity), its architecture (from Medieval to Art Deco to even the modern glass palaces of the European Union), etc... throughout many centuries (example:  the backwards culture of the Hapsburgs took a monumental step forward after Maximillian visited Brussels and Bruges in the 1400s and determined to model Austria after the beauty and wealth he encountered), but I would rather focus in a very minimalist sense on why I am thoroughly addicted to this tiny cultural powerhouse and let the readers' interest be piqued.

A country the size of Maryland, Belgium has over ten million people and is one of the most densely populated countries in the world.  Where situations like this generally lead to a sense of claustrophic trashiness, Belgium, by contrast, is a visual feast of meticulous parks and gardens, stunning architecture, amazing food and stylish transportation.  Literally - imagine breathtaking train stations that are hailed across the globe as architectural genius along with the slender, old world street cars that in America, we adore...  In fact, Lonely Planet as of 2010 announced that Belgium was the single most stunning country that continued to be criminally overlooked.  Which is fine by me, since I can enjoy the best of French, Dutch, and Germanic cultures at reasonable prices.  Where Paris and much of France feels like you leave wondering how many paychecks you just forfeited, Belgium is a land that leaves one stunned by the beauty but not broke...

While there, I will be of course be visiting Antwerp (Rubenshuis, the home of P.P. Rubens, has one of the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen), Ghent (Gravensteen Castle, here I come...), and the chateaus of Wallonia (the gorgeous castles and verdent estates of French speaking Belgium).  However, two cities (Bruges and Brussels) are where I plan to linger most.  Often referred to as the Venice of the North, the perfectly preserved medieval town of Bruges is filled with romantic canals, pointy gilded architecture, and amazing old world cafes.  Brussels, the captial of Belgium, is openly acknowledged as the most beautiful capital in the entire European Union.  Whether lingering in the Grand Plas (the central square in Brussels with buildings dating to the 1400s, and now a UNESCO heritage site), shopping in the Galleries St. Hubert (the first enclosed shopping mall in the world dating back to the mid 1800s), enjoying wine and beer at Le Falstaff (a 19th century gilded age brasserie), dining on Mussels in white wine broth at Au View Bruxelles (one of my favorite haunts to dine in), or strolling the lonely monastery gardens and decaying abbeys that surround the city (many of monasteries are also breweries - monks have to do something between prayers...), Brussels is a literal feast for the senses.  And let's not forget the chocolate - this is chocolate lovers' paradise.

And best of all, no car needed.  Every major Belgian city is walkable and compact, with wonderful slender streetcars for those times you need to get from one side of town to the other.  Further, nearly every Belgian city is about thirty minutes or less from Brussels due to the kingdom having one of the best train networks in Europe.  And just to keep it interesting, as mentioned previous the nation is known for having visually astounding, world reknowned train stations.  Antwerp station is considered an architectural masterpiece and referred to as "Railway Cathedral" - rightfully so, both from an interior and exterior perspective. 

So that everyone can have a sense of just how jaw droppingly gorgeous Belgium is, I've uploaded some old photos into a photo gallery.  Enjoy...  because just loading the photographs I know I did...

Christmas Eve at 6160, much like any other home, is filled with a number of traditions (albeit not necessarily "traditional" in the true sense of the word).  Some of course are carried on as family traditions, while others grew over time.  And one is simply a function of 6160's location (and is one of the oddest traditions I can recount for everyone).

The morning of Christmas Eve was chilly and wintery in appearance; blizzards tore a path from northern New Mexico through Kansas earlier in the week, and fortunately, shifted south of St Louis.  However, this did not look like the case as morning arrived.  Billowy gray and white clouds smothered the sky, with the sun being a shifty opaque blot on the horizon.  Thus began the absolute strangest Christmas Eve tradition at 6160 - the congregation of crows. 

Scientists are still unsure of all the reasons crows congregate in massive flocks, but throughout the week of Christmas they literally smother the trees at 6160.  Crows are viewed as one of the most intelligent of all God's creation, and the number one hypothesis regarding the congregation pattern - protection from predators and information sharing (crows are so intelligent they actually "share" information like gossips at work.  For example, it's known they share funerary information when another crow dies; M.I.T. and other institutions actually tracked crows "mourning" at places where other crows died - it's abit spooky.  Spookier, crows can answer "questions", if you will, in proper sequential order;  crows and their intelligence could literally be its own blog). 

On the farm back in the early 1980's, there was a crow that had been domesticated and escaped, but thrived on human company.  My sister and I had named him "Joe Crow" because he would wait at the bus stop for us in the morning and always flew there exactly when we were dropped off after school.  Its owners had taught it a number of phrases, my favorite being "How Ya Doin?", to which I always replied "I'm fine how YOU doin?", which must have been the reply the owners gave because Joe Crow would fly around us cawing and laughing.  He was an awesome bird, and one of the reasons I absolutely love crows.  So the week of Christmas, I always rush to the windows and garden when I hear the first sounds of the crows, and always toss leftover bread onto the Japanese Maple Courtyard for them.

Fortunately, the wintery morning gave way to a bright, sunny afternoon.  The crows had departed for Forest Park, as had I with the dogs.  While walking the expanse of the park in the cold, clean air is always wonderful before a two day cooking and feeding fest, the absence of snow tends to give it a somewhat dull and lifeless look.  Upon returning from the walk come Christmas Day preparations, which are incredibly important since Christmas Day entails cooking for family from 8:30am until 4:30pm.  With this much cooking afoot, preparations on Christmas Eve are key from both an execution as well as sanity perspective.  An old wooden tray with a French winery label decoupaged onto the top is brought out for Christmas Day "predinner wine", a custom that has slowly eased into other family and friends traditions (I continue to suspect they were just looking for an excuse to have cocktails before dinner like we were).  The cobblestone hued wooden server is brought out from storage and placed in front of the bookcases, with white stoneware and silverplated flatware readied for the Christmas Day dinner whose primary components are whole ham, butternut squash & pumpkin puree, potatoes gratin' and cinnamon glazed apples. 

Once 6160 is readied for the onslaught of family on the 25th, it's off to the Missouri Botanical Garden to look at the holiday display.  It almost always entails toy trains and poinsettias, but this year we were advised there would be a plethora of different evergreens as well as incorporation of flowering houseplants.  The display this year was fantastic, with verdant cedars ringed with white flowering cyclamen, as well as white poinsettia "kissing balls", a perennial replacement for Mistletoe.  There was even a train track set with miniature St Louis streetcars, a direct reference to 1944's "Meet Me In St Louis" with Judy Garland and Margaret O'Brien. 

Next it's off to 4:30 mass at St James the Greater.  I rarely if ever attend Midnight Mass, let alone Christmas Day Mass.  Midnight Mass is always hard to attend given the cooking regimen that begins just a few hours later, and Christmas Day Mass is too lengthy with all the singing (sorry Father Johnson - just sayin...).  Upon returning, candles laden with essential oils of fir, pine, clove, and nutmeg are lit throughout the house, filling the expanse with every good scent imaginable.  Way back on the farm as well as during my college years (where I encountered one of the most intelligent doctors I've ever met), I was informed to never forget the importance of scent.  A direct quote: "some of the most beautiful scenes in the world can feel bland and abstract in absence of scent; conversely, some of the most common and everyday vignettes can be transported to the sublime because of scent".  Every time we have guests over during the holiday season, I'm always asked for advice on their Christmas decorating.  My response is always the same - spare no expense on scent.  Williams-Sonoma holiday candles fit this bill nicely...

Because of all the cooking and feasting on Christmas Day, one of the longest traditions at 6160 is Christmas Eve dinner.  For over a decade the menu has entailed nothing more than freshly made Cioppino with a crusty loaf of french bread.  This very light meal literally bursts with flavor and is extraordinarily simple to make.  While in San Francisco the broth tends to be thin, I much prefer a thicker consistency where tomato feels more like a puree than like a broth.  Unlike San Francisco Cioppinos, those at 6160 are filled primarily with shellfish; on Christmas Eve, this is simply mussels and clams. 

The evening of Christmas Eve also entails the gift exchange with Bob (he can't appear to be receiving too many gifts in front of the family on Christmas Day or "gift envy" arises...) and old Holiday movie classics.  We tend to gravitate to the the original "Christmas Carol" with Reginald Owen, and this year appears to be targeting the same pattern.  Dating back to 1938, this movie has a number of incredibly funny scenes, my favorite of which is when Scrooge tells Marley (in this film adaptation only)  "well if you must be going Jacob... don't let me keep you".   Althought not really true to the novel, absolutely priceless...  It astounds me how many people have never read "A Christmas Carol" and just how truly dark Dickens' novel was (it was a ghost story for crying out loud).  What's even more interesting is when films try to move closer to trueness to the novel, critics rebel and state it lacks "the spirit of Christmas".  Maybe the critics should learn to read the book version prior to seeing the film - just a thought...

Christmas Eve ends with prepping for Christmas Day cooking, which in essence consists of two fairly large meals.  For the brunch, the prep work means french croissant-like pastry dough moves from freezer to refrigerator to allow it to rise overnight, after which it will be glazed with cinnamon, brown sugar, cloves, nutmeg, and a sprinkling of shredded pecans.  Mounds of oranges are left on a tray for juicing, which has to include pulp (for me, if there are no pulpy juicy bits, why bother with fresh orange juice).  After our trip to Rome back in 2007, we learned to appreciate Turkish espresso;  abit pricey, we procure it especially for the Christmas Day brunch (who doesn't need a great tasting start to the day).  Pots of Rosemary are brought down from the second floor sitting room to brighten up the brunch table, after which they will move back to the sitting room windowsill.  For the late afternoon dinner, whole boned ham is glazed with a maple syrup, brown sugar and bourbon sauce.  Butternut Squash and Sugar Pie Pumpkins are pulled from the bin in the shed and brought into the kitchen, to be pureed the next day with maple syrup and a sprinkle of apple pie spices.  Heaps of Irish potatoes are piled into a mixing bowl and readied for slicing into a rich and cheesy potatoes gratin', while granny smith apples are mounded in a nearby basket for glazing the next day. 

The Christmas Day menu:

Brunch

French cinnamon sticky buns

Scrambled eggs

Turkey sausage

High pulp fresh squeezed orange juice

Turkish espresso

Dinner

Stuffed Mushrooms with goat cheese, yellow onion and pancetta

Asparagus and Yellow Bell Peppers seared in balsamic vinegar

Whole bone ham with maple, brown sugar and bourbon glaze

Butternut Squash and Pumpkin puree with hints of cinnamon, clove, nutmeg and black pepper

Potatoes gratin'

Whole berry cranberry and orange zest relish

Cinnamon glazed apples

Chocolate cream pie

Raspberry cobbler

To everyone that emailed asking "tell us about Christmas Eve and Christmas Day", here you go.  And here's wishing everyone a safe and blessed 2012.

Happy holidays -

With the onset of Winter, reading seems to always take a hard turn towards classical literature at 6160. This year proves to be no exception. What's important about these novels is you can return to them time and time again and they feel as fresh as the first time you read them, with each new reading providing some insight, some twist of language, that was missed previously.

1. Fathers and Sons - I have five all time favorite authors (Honore de Balzac, Theodore Dreiser, Jane Austen, Ellis Peters, and Ivan Turgenev). This novel, by Turgenev, I have read countless times and am always reminded of the very first time I read it. Having spent most of my childhood in the 70s, I recall my parents endlessly discussing the rebellious nature of "my generation" and how the hippies, free love, and counterculture of the 60s introduced all this unpleasantness. Fresh out of high school, I had gone on a classical literature "tear", if you will; it was during this time I first read Turgenev. Fathers and Sons, written in 1862, was a total eye opener - this teen angst and rebelliousness my parents blamed on the 60s had been around time immemorial (maybe they meant the 1860s when Turgenev penned the novel?). The book is not really a trip back in time; it's far more relevant than many would suspect. Another plus - his style of writing is clean and direct.

2. Madame Bovary - as a complete opposite on the spectrum sits Flaubert and his most famous novel, Madame Bovary, written in 1857. While his writing tends to be florid and dramatic (he was notorious for searching for "le mot juste" which translated means "the right word"), from a sheer entertainment perspective one can hardly go wrong by taking one part somewhat clever slut, one part dullard middle class husband, and one part nasty blackmailing merchant and stirring vigorously (the book was beyond obscene for its time). Madame Bovary is one of those literary oddities where you really don't like any of the characters you're encountering and yet, you definitely don't mind watching the drama unfold. Honore de Balzac follows a somewhat similar path in his writing (maybe it's a French thing...); however, what makes Balzac one of my all time favorite authors is that he realizes how truly awful the characters are and ensures you are laughing along the way, whereas Flaubert tends to feel more soap opera. But I could use a good soap opera-like experience that doesn't involve a cast member from Jersey Shore...

Looking back on Christmases of my childhood, I remember my parents went all out on the decorating and in grand 70's style (artifical everything and lights anywhere you could fit a strand). Everything was so riddled with electric glow it's a wonder anyone slept between Black Friday and the day after New Year's (when we traditionally took down our decorations). This obviously impacted how I think about Christmas decorations at 6160. For me, it has to feel very natural, it has to feel very vintage, and it cannot require the entire output of one electric power producing facility.

While throngs of shoppers swarm malls and outlets on Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving is fairly subdued at 6160 and is devoted solely to leftovers, Christmas decorating, and old movies on TCM. The only journey from the house entails the coffee house for morning espresso and a stop at the nursery down the street for ropes of cypress, a wreath, and a small fir tree.

Once home from the nursery, the Christmas decorating begins in earnest. Cypress garlands are draped down the banister in the stairwell as well as the doorways in the living room, with remnant pieces layered in the windows. Hollies that bank the front steps are finally trimmed, with trimmings placed meticulously atop cabinets throughout the house and stuffed in old silverplate cups. The wreath always finds itself propped on the floor against the bench by the tree; it's always enveloped with vintage pearl lights. Antique tear drop silver & glass ornaments hang from the small tree and glisten endlessly in reflection of the wreath lights. The old tarnished picture holders atop the bench now display holiday postcards dating to the early 1900s, with extra postcards piled into an old silverplate butler's tray. Vintage crystal garlands drape the bench and help to offset this sea of greenery. Mercury glass dominates the entire scheme, with the antique silver-glassed ornaments filling urns, mounded in farm baskets, and even piled into the old mercantile jars in the living room.

Savory herbs are brought in from the Orchard and are brought down from the sitting room as needed for holiday dinners; this ensures a natural element (versus a "Made in China" affect). Richly scented cypress and vanilla candles are brought out and placed in the room addition, ensuring clean, evergreen aromatics fill the house. On the farm, we kept a big pot of water on the stove throughout the winter; set at a low boil, it was used to humidify the warm dry air that filled the house. At 6160, we use an old french teakettle for the same purpose; however, to this we add a few mulling spices so that the entire first floor is filled with the heady scent of clove and cinnamon.

If the Friday after Thanksgiving is devoted to Christmas decorating, then "Black Saturday" would be the more appropriate term for holiday shopping at 6160. A veritable smorgasborg of gift certificates are secured that morning, with holiday shopping essentially done after one trip to the Italian grocery & specialty stores on The Hill. I'm a huge fan of black and white photography, so the gifts are then placed in beautiful Christmas cards with black & white scenes of serene, snowy bridges or still wintery gardens. Instead of placing the presents under the tree, at 6160 the cards all fit snugly in an old french wire basket sitting on a side chair in the dining room (almost looking like a mailroom "outbox"). A child's silverplate cup from the late 1890s is placed next to it; stuffed with holly trimmings, it never fails that all visitors seem to realize instantly "the gifts are in the basket next to this cup".

In all, Christmas decorating at 6160 takes about two hours, during which time I manage to catch up on an old movie on TCM (with a penchant for Humphrey Bogart films) and down a great deal of mulled cider. The affair ends with warm turkey sandwiches on toasted oatmeal bread and a side of cranberry orange relish.

It's remarkable the impact that flavors and scent can have on special occasions; the scents and flavors of "Christmas Decorating Friday" and "Black Saturday" are memorable indeed...

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. A cooking extravaganza with all my favorite foods combined with an afternoon of nonstop football and family at hand, what's not to like? With family splashed across New York, as a child we would frequently go to visit them on Thanksgiving - which of course meant standing in the cold watching the Macy's Parade. It feels so long ago - at this point, it's more like a montage of photographic stills and sensations. I remember it was always difficult to get to the actual parade route; large numbers of street closures meant weaving through streets like gerbal tubes to get to our destination. And although there were years it was unseasonably warm, it never was on the years we went. So.... along the way, we would always stop at the same coffee shop year after year (there were no Starbucks back then...) so that my aunts, uncles, etc... could all get espressos and coffees; for me, it was always a hot chocolate (much less for drinking, more to keep my hands warm). As we would get closer, I always noted the trees of Central Park were so much like those in St Louis at this time of year, with many of the leaves already stripped and those that remained were fading fast.

Throngs of people were all about us, with the "white noise" of crowds like at a baseball game (but louder, closer, and continuous). And then in the distance we could here marching band music; softly at first, but notably the "white noise" of the crowd in the distance was escalating. And soon the pitch would increase in intensity, and within minutes Skyscraper-like balloons, marching bands, television celebrities and cheering crowds filled the morning. As Santa on his sleigh would close the parade, we would already have started walking back to my aunt & uncle's flat; "the women" would set to work in the Pullman kitchen (my first encounter with a Pullman kitchen - it would impact me greatly as it was a complete model of efficient cooking; 6160 has a strong Pullman kitchen affect), while "the men" went to the living room for the football marathon. The day long affair ended with pumpkin pie and german chocolate cake (we are German...), old black & white movies (for some reason Humphrey Bogart or Barbara Stanwyck movies always seemed to be on), and discussions of Christmas.

I always remember waking the next morning to big bands and swing music; my aunt and uncle were huge fans (as am I) and would have the old radio in the kitchen dialed in to a local station. Back on the farm in St Louis, every Saturday night while cleaning the chicken coop I always had KMOX tuned in to follow the hockey game, after which Charlie Menees would kick in with a Big Band and Swing show. This Saturday night routine, coupled with the fond memories of Thanksgiving in New York with my "cool" aunt and uncle, had a powerful influence on me and how I view the holiday. Unlike the Black Fridays of today's generation, the morning after Thanksgiving was more leisurely (or at least it seemed as much to me). With Ella Fitzgerald hitting notes in the kitchen with perfect pitch and a percolator coffee pot that looked like a space capsule bubbling away (an image only the 1970's could have delivered), my aunt would appear with croissants and one blueberry muffin (that was for me) from the bakery across the street. That blueberry muffin was actually one of the high points of the visit; I would think about it constantly throughout the year. Even in the sea of fresh baked croissants you could smell the blueberries and butter, and the taste was to die for; not crumbly, not dry, and not too rich. It was the best blueberry muffin I have ever had; sadly, the bakery has long since passed but the memory of their blueberry muffins will live with me forever.

And off we'd go.

My family was never one to pound out Christmas shopping the day after Thanksgiving. Friday was more focused on windowshopping while spending time together, my aunt and my mother catching up on the times and fashions. I of course was mesmerized just by the sheer number of people and the monstrous size of the buildings (let alone the constant noise). Salvation Army bell ringers and singers (they had singers back then too) were at street corners everywhere; I was always pestering my dad and uncle for change to drop in the bucket. After a morning filled with the sights and sounds New York could deliver (along with some fortunate as well as unfortunate smells), we'd end the excursion with a stop at Union Square to purchase Christmas trimmings as well as a quick pop back to the bakery across from their flat to secure loaves of crusty bread for turkey sandwiches. That night, as we ate leftovers, we'd decorate the flat for Christmas.

It was Saturday, as I recall, that the major shopping occurred, and what a sight that was. All the adults in my family, so jovial and connected as we'd leave the apartment, would literally scatter in opposite directions the moment we stepped foot from the building. My mother used to joke that our family on the Saturday after Thanksgiving in New York was like picking up a rock on the farm, when bugs and whatnot would run in all directions. Everyone would return at various times throughout the day, scurrying to their respective rooms with bags crinkling under their coats, desperate to hide their acquired treasures from prying eyes.

This year, Thanksgiving bore a great deal of resemblance to the Thanksgivings of my childhood. The day began cold, very cold; dark gray wintery skies and chill, moist air seemed to signal a surprise snow shower was about to hit (which is exactly what happened in 2010...). The Emperor One Japanese Maple literally looked like it was on fire in the garden thanks to the dark gray start to the day. The Macy's Parade, splashed across the flatscreen in the Living Room, was disappointing; it seems to have transitioned from massive balloons and marching bands to musicians I'm barely familiar with lip synching on floats alongside Broadyway vignettes from shows I've never heard of. Oh well. The night before, I'd shifted the new dining server from the Shed to the dining room. Sitting proudly in front of the bookshelves, the server was custom made by my contractor, who literally designed it with shelves to specifically fit the serving pieces in the old dining room cupboard. A linen tablecloth from Denmark (with Nestle advertising - of all things...) was spread across the table, with a french iron basket filled with white mini pumpkins as the centerpiece. Toile pitchers filled with savory herbs from the Orchard were brought in for the cooking marathon that lied ahead.

This year's menu:

Bacon-wrapped Scallops

Asparagus, Mushrooms, and Red Peppers seared in rosemary balsamic

Roast Turkey

Mushroom Gravy

Red Skin Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes

Fresh Cut Corn

Cranberry and Orange Zest Relish

Cranberry Orange Bread

Maple and Pumpkin Whoopie Pies

Pumpkin Pie

Wines were intriguing; I found myself yet again the only white drinker. So even though the ice bucket in the dining room dry sink was filled with crushed ice and chilled bottles Santa Margherita, the family instead worked its way through a variety of reds furnished by the Williams-Sonoma wine club.

The weather altered dramatically as the afternoon progressed; out of no where it suddenly became sunny and unusually warm (although you could tell by the chill and blustery wind that this anomoly was temporary at best). Dining together was a slow and happy affair; as the Packers whallopped the Lions, we channel surfed only to land on "Sixteen Candles", a movie that is about to turn 30 years old (good Lord... where have the years gone!). Family departed as the sun was setting, leaving time to put the house back in order after a long day entertaining.

True to form, Friday isn't all that Black at 6160. Just as in days gone by, the only retailer visited was the nursery down the street, where ropes of red cedar were purchased en masse and the annual haggling over a tree that needed to be "slightly larger than tabletop but not over four feet tall". Hollies in the front were trimmed (finally, if you were to ask some of the readers of this website!) and cuttings placed throughout the house. Antique silverplate and mercury glass were brought out, as were antique post cards from the late 19th century. Nearly the entire morning of Black Friday is dedicated to putting Christmas decorations into effect at 6160, whereas the afternoon entails putting the garden to bed for the winter. Herbs are brought inside to overwinter in the second floor sitting room, pots are emptied and stored in the Shed, and the kitchen is filled with cuttings of everything imaginable to cook with for the rest of the weekend (a final fling, if you will, with the garden).

Saturday, just like the days gone by in New York, is the magic day for finishing the Christmas shopping here at 6160. It's funny how you reach a point in your life where you don't really want to give "things", you want to give "experiences". Thus I often gift friends, family, and coworkers with giftcards, foods, and wines from the specialty stores on the Hill. Letting the people you enjoy being with experience the tastes, flavors, delicacies, and scents of some of the best foods and wines available - that's an experience that should be shared. Perhaps they will find something in one of those stores that remind them of trips they've taken to Italy (many have) or something to make special dinners with friends and family that much more special. Better still, perhaps they will find a food or foods that they themselves relish like the blueberry muffin from the New York bakery back in my childhood.

"The Month of True Sight" - that's what we used to call November back on the farm, as the thickly forested landscape was stripped of its foliage.  It gave new definition to the word "proximity", as suddenly, almost overnite it seemed, you could see across the distant hills for miles.  

The same holds true at 6160; the gentle rains of early November always ensure that the bright yellow & gold landscapes of October are stripped bare.  The Art Museum in Forest Park, cloaked for much of the year by towering Ash and Oak trees, now looms large when looking northwest from the front porch.  The Arch and several "skyscrapers" can now be seen plainly to the east, while the spires of St James come into view when looking to the southwest. 

The Emperor One Japanese Maples as well as the blueberry bushes and apple trees of the Orchard now burn bright scarlet, like a visual trumpet announcing winter is just around the corner.  In this much more barren landscape, the sea of browns dotted with an occasional red allows evergreens to come into their own.  Holding true to their rich green coloration and seemingly undaunted by the challenges posed by the difficult weather that lies ahead, the hollies and boxwoods of 6160 become more stunning in their own right.

While temperatures stay relatively constant through the month, with days in the mid fifties and nights in the high thirties, chill winds make November feel much colder than it truly is.  This has a pronounced effect on the menu at 6160.  Cioppino makes its first appearance during this window;  I've always assumed its entirely due to the rich herbal scent which harkons to time spent in the Orchard.  Interestingly, Tikka Masala now become a regular menu item.  This very mild, tomato based Indian curry is combined with rice infused with cinnamon, clove, and golden raisins.  Curry, regardless of whether it's identified as "hot" or not, has a definite warming effect (at least it does for me).  The slow cooker arrives on the scene as well so that comfort food like Chicken in Osso Bucco sauce or Chicken in Tuscan Red Wine sauce is at the ready.

The shifting sunlight of November has a pronounced effect within 6160.  On the second floor, the sitting room is now unbelievably ablaze with light; this will persist for nearly four months and is why we initially used the room to just overwinter plants.  Herbs are now potted and stuffed onto tables, ledges, windowsills, etc... to carry us through the hard winter months.  The first floor is the reverse, as the location of the windows and the angle of the sunlight darkens the main floor for the same period of time.  The atmosphere on the first floor changes perceptably in November; where "relaxed" is the word most visitors associate with it during spring, summer, and early autumn, "cozy" is the word that springs from their lips in November.  Tarnished metal objects on the main floor become much more visually pronounced at this point (I have to assume it's the effect of the changes in light quality) while the various antique glass objects make the main floor not feel "too heavy".

And of course, with the onset of November, holiday planning runs like a recurring list in the back of my mind.  Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday (food, fall, and football - what's not to like), and the fact that my current employer gives me both Thanksgiving and Black Friday off as holidays is truly a blessing.  Having that Friday to nest - eat leftovers, decorate for Christmas and wrap the gifts (I'm generally done with Christmas shopping the week of Thanksgiving), watch old movies on TCM and drink barrels of mulled cider is a ritual I've followed for over two decades.   

With the arrival of our first frosts, the last of the robust Fall colors still clinging to the trees, and soups now dominating the dinner menu, it's a great time to read.  Especially in the garden.  In just a few short weeks the thought of sitting outside with a mug of coffee and a good book will be unthinkable - for the last two years, December has seen winter deal a heavy hand to St Louis, with ice storms in 2009 and freakishly heavy snow storms in 2010.  So making the most of the last warm, temperate days becomes key.

In Autumn, the sun shifts and now circumvents the giant oak trees in the garden;  streams of warmth and light pour directly through the honeysuckle arbor, making the bench therein a favorite place to sit and move through book after book.  This Fall, the reading list includes:

1.  Amazing Retreats Under Nordic Skies

Another publication of Jeanne de Arc Living, the book focuses on summer homes and outdoor living across Denmark.  Jeanne de Arc Living revolutionized the design world in 2010, merging Danish soft gray and white color palette, tarnished metal & industrial elements, and French Country.  This results in a really outstanding look - relaxed and timeless.  Really looking forward to this book...

2.   The Country Cooking of France

My favorite French cook is Laura Calder, who's program on the Cooking Channel (French Food at Home) features simple French home cooking which anyone, anywhere, can make.  Many, many years ago while attending a food writers’ conference Laura met Anne Willan, cookbook author and founder of Ecole de Cuisine La Varenne in Burgundy.  Anne hired Laura to move to France to work on cookbooks with her and to help run her school.  Laura stayed in France for a decade working closely with Anne (thus how she learned so much about French food).  This is Anne's comprehensive cookbook.

3.  Beekman 1802 Heirloom Cookbook

Oh the Beekman Boys...  Josh actually is assigned to my company as one of our advertising managers (ROFL).  Since we grow heirloom vegetables in the Orchard at 6160, we were excited to see this book and the recipes therein.  Many of the recipes are traditional and hearty farm fare (with really great accompanying photographs).