Pork Carnitas

It's been unseasonably warm the last few days -- mid-October and we're digging for packed away t-shirts and shorts to run outside and enjoy the 80 degree temperatures. I had already gotten into my Fall zone with cooking -- I had made chili last week and applesauce just the other day. And soup was on the docket when the high temperatures hit. But who wants to simmer soup on the stove when it's hot? 

Grammy's Italian Baked Chicken

Trips to Maine always proceeded the same. After the first six or seven hours, we’d cross into our favorite state, over the Piscataqua Bridge, and shout in unison “Welcome to Maine, The Way Life Should Be!” Then we’d snuggle back down into our pillows and leave the driving to my father since it would be another two hours before we’d get to my grandparents. Next thing we knew, we’d be turning down their sandy, pine-lined road, rubbing sleepy eyes and sporting sleep-tousled hair-dos. We’d excitedly point to the first landmark, my Uncle Scott’s home, craning our necks to see if the cousins were in the yard. A few more turns around the bend and Uncle Gordon and Aunt Ruthie’s home appeared on the left, a square brick structure with a red tin roof, numerous barns in the background and a large bell out front. But we had eyes only for the right-hand side, where we caught brief glimpses of a path to a large rock, and then a tall barn and then a small, dormered colonial with a black-shingled roof. The white house and bright red barn would flash through the sparse forest of white pine until the trees cleared and we were suddenly there. Turning into the driveway created a state of happy havoc in the car, my sister and I bouncing up and down in our seats, ready to pile out and breathe in the scent of Maine.

Almond Poppyseed Bread or "Ode to My Mother"

I crawled up into the green-and-white pinstripe chair my mother was sitting in. Its overstuffed arms and high back enveloped us. We pulled the time-worn quilt around us, its intermittent red triangles making a flying geese pattern on its white sky. Snowflakes fell in large clumps outside the family room window and piled up in tufted inches upon the hanging bird feeder. Yet we were cozy and warm with our tightly-wrapped quilt and roaring fire in the wood stove, my mother's arm slipped comfortably over mine as I rested happily in the crook of it. 

I snuggled in deeply for a good read as the first few words of our favorite book sounded out in my mother's soft voice, "There were three of them: the old woman, Merry; the old man, Grumble; and Johnny, the bound-out boy. They lived in a log cabin, t'other side of Tip Top Mountain."

Peanut Butter Icing

When the candles have been blown out, and the birthday song has been sung, the cake that my mother-in-law invariably cuts into is chocolate with peanut butter icing. Before meeting my husband, I had never had peanut butter icing, so I didn't know the deliciousness that awaited me as I sat at his family's kitchen table, casually extending my waiting plate. As I happily consumed my first slathered piece, and eyed up another, I understood why this cake had become a family favorite. Soft and billowy, with a subtle richness, the icing mingles with deep chocolate flavor, creating a marriage of flavors reminiscent of a peanut butter cup.

My husband kindly had another birthday this week. Kinder still, he requested his family's old stand-by. And as we polished off the last two pieces, I couldn't help but be thankful for family traditions. 

Baked Haddock

I am ashamed to say, that even with the bit of New England blood running through my veins, I am not a fan of fish. Or any seafood, really. My sister, on the other hand, has fully inherited the seafood-loving gene and will happily down a plate of good fried shrimp or gobble up a lobster or two. Family trips to Maine invariably involve at least one seafood meal, whether it be a lobster feed or a visit to Captain Mike's in Brunswick. And there I sit, surrounded on all sides with my sad plate of chicken tenders. It's difficult with all of them oohing and ahhing all around me to enjoy my fried poultry.