Beauty That Changes You (+ Unstuffed Cabbage Casserole)

I am one of those people who keeps an absurd number of unread emails in my inbox. I scan the list of new messages, click open one or two that are actually personally relevant to me, and then just move on to something else. Mostly, the unread emails are promotions I'm not interested in, newsletters and notifications I don't remember signing up for, that kind of thing. But once in a while a message pops up from a voice that never fails to be uplifting and refreshing, and I find myself glad to see them, like having coffee with a good friend after a long time apart. The Blessed is She reflections. A notification from Sarah Mackenzie that a new episode of the Read Aloud Revival podcast is up! Anything, just anything from Tsh Oxenreider.

Lately, I've been working through Tsh's Upstream Field Guide: an online course "to help you discover who you are, find your life's purpose, and take daily action so that your life makes more sense." It is jam packed with great stuff - podcasts, downloads, Spotify playlists to get your journaling juices flowing. I have been enjoying every minute I spend with it, and loving the fact that I can do it at my own pace. One of the journal prompts asked me to list some things that I find beautiful, and it has really stuck in my brain. As I go about my days, I'll find myself thinking, There. There is something that is beautiful.



In a homily last week, one of our parish priests reflected on the crucifixion. He knew an artist who tried to describe the balance of emotion that goes into a painting or other depiction of Christ's Passion. Pain, of course. Agony. But also ecstasy. Because He joyfully offered Himself on the cross, it was not only pain and suffering. He knew exactly what He was doing, and why. And for whom.



What tremendous beauty there is in such a sacrifice; a willing self-donation. Joy and love transform pain into beauty.

All through this week, I expect to find myself dissolving into tears as I witness - again - so many stunning displays of a love that transforms, that heals, that saves. In yesterday's Gospel reading, a woman pours out a liter of costly oil - a LITER! - on Jesus' feet, and dries them with her hair. How can you witness an act of such bold humility and striking sacrifice, and come away unchanged? Imagine the smell in that house - filled with that fragrance. Imagine the gasps of those watching, the tears on Mary's face as she loved Jesus with abandon. Let this beauty sit in your soul and change you.



This Holy Week, I decided to dedicate myself to decluttering, sprucing up, and using up the food that's in our house - preparing our home and our hearts for a big celebration. As I realize what a huge task I've embarked upon, I'm starting to think toward next Lent - maybe a big de-clutter in the kitchen during the first week of Lent, and then meal-planning to use up what's there, in an effort to simplify, save money, and be a good steward of the generous gifts God has given me. We are still using up things and eating up leftovers this week (gotta make room for a feast!), and this "unstuffed" cabbage was a great, easy way to do it. Hope you enjoy it!



Unstuffed Cabbage Casserole

1/2 head cabbage, shredded
4 slices bacon, chopped
1 pound ground beef
1 onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried mint
1 teaspoon dried parsley
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper to taste
4 tablespoons tomato paste
1/4 cup red wine
1/2 cup plain whole milk yogurt

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees, and butter a 9x13 (or equivalent) baking dish. Toss the cabbage with a teaspoon of salt, and let it sit while you prepare the filling.

Sauté bacon until crispy. Pour off excess fat, leaving about a tablespoon in the pan. Add the beef to the pan and brown it, breaking it up as you go. Add onion, garlic, and seasonings and cook 3-5 more minutes, until onions are beginning to soften. Stir in tomato paste and wine. Remove pan from heat, and stir in the yogurt.

Spread half the cabbage in the buttered dish, and top with beef. Repeat with remaining cabbage and beef. Cover with foil and bake for 30 minutes, then remove the foil and continue baking for another 15 minutes. Enjoy!

The Best Chili

When I was growing up, we spent a lot of Christmas and summer vacations making long treks cross-country in a minivan. We lived in northern Michigan. Bajee, my mom's mom, lives in southern Colorado, about a 24-hour drive away. My dad's parents, Grandmom and Pop, lived in Memphis, about 14 hours. Many of my parents's friends lived in New York. My sister and I got comfortable in the backseat, hauling great bulging backpacks full of books, crayons, travel games, and later, magazines, journals and portable CD players. We knew how to do a road trip.

Every time we arrived in Memphis, Grandmom would dish out bowls of the spiciest soup I had ever tasted, and we would eat every last bite, not wanting to suffer the shame of being labeled sissy Yanks by our cool older cousins. When I went to college, my mom started making chili for me when I'd come home. Spicy chili with shredded cheddar, warm corn bread with lots of butter and honey. We'd sit at the same dining room table we always had, just my family, sinking right back into our old ways of being together.

This time of year, I crave this kind of food. Hearty, packed with flavor, tasting like home. When friends and family arrive at your house this winter, road-weary and sick of fast food, give them some chili. It makes everyone feel better. Beer doesn't hurt either, but chili is a great place to start.



NOTE: This is not turkey chili, or chicken chili, or veggie chili. This is not low-fat chili. If you're looking for low-fat chili, I advise you to rethink your life choices look elsewhere. If you're looking for chili that warms you up from the inside out, makes children and grown men alike grin with delight, and tastes like the chili that would win first prize in Heaven's chili cookoff, MAKE THIS NOW.

The Best Chili

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 package mild breakfast sausage (like Tennessee Pride)
1.5 pounds 80% lean ground beef
1 sweet onion, chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
4 tablespoons tomato paste
2 15-oz. cans kidney beans, rinsed
2 25-ounce cans diced tomatoes
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 teaspoon chipotle chili powder
1 teaspoon marjoram
1 teaspoon cumin
2 teaspoons black pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt, more or less to taste

Place the olive oil in a Dutch oven or soup pot over medium heat. Add the sausage and ground beef and saute, breaking up the meat with a wooden spoon as you go, until it is mostly brown. Add the onion, green pepper, garlic, and tomato paste, and cook about 2 minutes, stirring until combined. Add the beans, tomatoes and spices, and stir. Cover the pot and reduce the heat to low. Simmer 2-3 hours or more (you can also transfer to a crock pot and cook it all day). Taste and adjust seasonings, and serve with whatever condiments and sides you like: corn bread, Saltines, sour cream, shredded cheddar, chopped onions, green onions, Tabasco sauce.

Pear-Raspberry Pie

There's something about a pie. It's homey. Nostalgic. Comforting. The cozy interior of Hoosier Mama Pie Company is tiny: a couple of tables and chairs, an old sea-foam green dresser serving as a checkout counter, and a display case full of pie. But it's where I want to go when my spirits need lifting. I made my husband take me there after some careless knife handling necessitated a trip to the emergency room a few years ago. I sat there with my mom, sharing buttery pie and hot coffee after I found out I had lost a baby, only 8 weeks into my first pregnancy, almost exactly two years ago.

Paula Haney's new cookbook, The Hoosier Mama Book of Pie, is a veritable encyclopedia of pie knowledge. Step-by-step photos of important, hard-to-describe processes (pie crust, anyone?), funny stories, and page after page of fantastic recipes. Pear-raspberry was the first one to jump out at me, because the window for both fruits at the farmers market is happening right now. I know it won't come as a shock to you that I love to cook, and that time in the kitchen is relaxing and very rewarding for me, but making a pie is a special sort of culinary meditation. Mix the dough. Wait. Roll out the dough and shape it into a crust. Peel and slice the fruit. Toss. Wait. Bake for a long time. Wait. Wait. Slice and eat. It's almost a full day from start to finish, and so worth it. Every step is magic. And then, of course, there's pie for breakfast the next day: one of the highest pleasures in this life.



Pear-Raspberry Pie

from The Hoosier Mama Book of Pie



Make sure to use soft, really ripe pears. I didn't, and while the flavor was still amazing, the pears were a little crunchy. This recipe is printed as is from the cookbook. I'm not going to print any other recipes from this book, and I'm not including the crust recipe, because I think you should just go buy it. It's awesome. Go.

1 9-inch double-crust pie dough (preferably from page 24 of the cookbook linked above)
5 cups ripe pears, peeled, cored, and chopped into bite-size pieces
2 cups raspberries
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
pinch kosher salt

Place the pears, raspberries, and lemon juice in a medium bowl. Do not mix. Place the sugar, cornstarch, ginger, and salt in a small bowl and whisk until thoroughly combined. Gently fold the dry ingredients into the fruit, until most of the mixture is absorbed. Take care not to break up the raspberries. Sprinkle Crust Dust (a mixture of equal parts flour and sugar, designed to absorb some of the fruit juice and ensure a not-soggy bottom crust) into the empty pie shell. Pile the fruit into the shell and smooth the top with a spatula. Finish the pie with a lattice top, and freeze for at least 20 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Brush the lattice with Pie Wash (equal parts cream and whole milk) - be amazed at how easily you can brush a slightly frozen pie crust without smashing it - and sprinkle liberally with coarse-grained sugar. Bake for 60-80 minutes, rotating 180 degrees every 20 minutes, until the crust is dark golden brown and the juices are bubbling thickly. Cool for at least 2 hours before slicing.

Bacon and Brie Sandwich

You know what? There's not always time to roast a chicken. There's not always planning ahead. Sometimes you just want something to put in your face so that you can sit on the couch and watch another episode of Friday Night Lights. You get home, you're ravenous, and you have to make some magic happen with whatever's in the fridge. A well-stocked fridge helps a lot with this.

A bacon and brie sandwich to the rescue! With some spinach, because vegetables should be a part of dinner. Mustard and pickles for some pizzazz. And we're off!

Warm up a pan and cook a couple slices of bacon. Crack some black pepper on the top while they're cooking.

Toast the bread. Sourdough is delicious.

Spread one side with Dijon mustard, and put some slices of Brie on the other side. The warm toast will start to melt the Brie. We like that.



Veggies for responsible adults! Spinach and bread-and-butter pickles. Unexpected and awesome.



The piece de resistance... PEPPER BACON.



A dinner fit for a queen.

Mrs. Rossitano's Spaghetti and Meatballs

Little by little, I have somehow become a person who watches TV. It started with The Office, and then 30 Rock, and it just started snowballing. Parks and Rec, Up All Night, this new show Awake which is on right after the NBC comedies (and we haven't been able to turn off - so good!). Modern Family, Once Upon a Time, Smash! Oh, and GCB. Hi-larious. I tell myself it's OK because 1) I'm not flipping channels out of boredom and watching whatever's on, 2) I don't watch trashy reality TV (not until the Real Housewives of Disney becomes a reality, at least), and 3) I multitask. While the TV is on, I iron, I knit, I fold laundry, I flip through magazines looking for recipes. And once in a while, something happens that totally vindicates my decision to be a TV-watcher.



"This shouldn't work! How they met is disgusting! Their age difference is just weird! They shouldn't go together! But you know what else shouldn't go together? Veal, fennel, lemon, cheese and pork! that's right! Your meatballs! Lynn and Frank are just as good as your meatballs." -Liz Lemon

If you can watch that and not want to eat spaghetti and meatballs, you're a stronger person than I. So I wrote myself a little list, and the next time I was at the grocery store, I picked up ingredients to recreate Mrs. Rossitano's meatballs.



"These meatballs are good! Like, IKEA good! Is there parmesan in this? And lemon! And a little fennel?" Yes! It's all in there! And it is exactly as good as Liz Lemon makes it sound.



Mrs. Rossitano's Spaghetti and Meatballs
adapted from Cook's Illustrated



2 slices bread, torn into pieces
1/2 cup buttermilk, or 6 tablespoons plain yogurt thinned with 2 tablespoons milk
8 ounces ground pork
8 ounces ground veal
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 egg yolk
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
2 teaspoons lemon zest (from one lemon)
vegetable oil

2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 28-ounce can or 1 quart tomatoes, crushed
dried or fresh basil
salt and pepper to taste

1 pound spaghetti

In a small bowl, combine bread and buttermilk. Allow to soak for 10 minutes. In a medium bowl, combine pork, veal, Parmesan, egg yolk, salt, pepper, fennel seeds and lemon zest, and the bread/buttermilk mixture. Mix with your hands until well incorporated. With wet hands to prevent sticking, gently shape into approximate 1 1/2 inch balls, about 15-20 meatballs total. Be careful not to pack them too densely. In a large skillet, heat 1/4 inch of vegetable oil over medium high heat until shimmering. Add the meatballs and cook until browned on all sides, about 10 minutes. Remove meatballs to a paper towel-lined plate and discard remaining oil.

Cook spaghetti in boiling salted water until al dente. Drain, reserving some of the starchy pasta water.

In the same pan you used for the meatballs, heat olive oil over medium heat and saute garlic until golden but not brown, about 3 minutes. Add tomatoes and simmer until sauce is thickened, about 10 minutes. Season sauce with basil, salt and pepper. Nestle meatballs in sauce and cook until heated through, about 5 minutes. Remove meatballs to a plate and cover loosely with foil to keep warm. Toss pasta with sauce in the pan, thinning sauce with pasta water if necessary. Top each serving of spaghetti with several meatballs, and serve with grated Parmesan for passing. If you're feeling fancy (or you have fresh basil on hand), garnish with basil chiffonade.

Red Beans and Rice

Last night, a friend and I got together to talk over our Lenten plans. A little more prayer, a few days of fasting, and some new spiritual reading. I love the cycles of the church year - the times of feasting and fasting, the ever-present chance for renewal and growth and deeper relationships.We enter the spirit of Lent by admitting that there is work to be done. And it makes the joy of Easter so much greater!

For today, though, it's still Mardi Gras. So we'll have a comforting bowl of rice and creamy beans - and maybe a drink or two - a little decadence before our forty-day fast.



The holy trinity of cajun and creole cooking. Cue heavenly light and angels singing.



What are your plans for Lent? Are you a give-up-chocolate-and-call-it-good type of person? Do you usually overcommit yourself and end up feeling like a dismal failure? How do you feel about fasting?

Red Beans and Rice
adapted from Heirloom Beans



Note: You are welcome to soak the beans overnight before making this. But if you want it for dinner tonight, I've found that the soaking is unnecessary. This would also be a perfect crock pot recipe, if you're so inclined. Dump it all in the slow cooker in the morning, and then when you get home, just make some rice and you're good to go!

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
3 slices bacon, chopped
1 cup chopped yellow onion
2 celery ribs, chopped
1/2 medium green bell pepper, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 pound small red beans
1 ham shank or 3/4 cup diced ham
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
creole seasoning, black pepper, and cayenne to taste
cooked long-grain white rice, for serving
1 pound andouille sausage or kielbasa, in 1/4-inch rounds
sliced green onions, for serving

In a soup pot or Dutch oven over medium heat, add the olive oil and bacon and cook until bacon is crispy. Remove bacon to a paper towel-lined plate and save for another use (or, ahem, eat it as a healthy snack while you're cooking). Add the onion, celery, green pepper, and garlic and sauté until soft and fragrant, about ten minutes. Add the beans and ham, and add enough cold water to cover the beans by one inch. Add bay leaf, thyme, and oregano, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer, partially covered, until the beans are tender, about 2-3 hours, adding more water if necessary. Season to taste with creole seasoning, black pepper, and cayenne.

Raise the heat and boil the beans uncovered for 15-20 minutes, to thicken. Use a wooden spoon to mash some of the beans on the side of the pot. Meanwhile, sauté the sausage in a large nonstick skillet until browned on both sides and heated through. To serve, place a scoop of rice in a shallow bowl and spoon beans over. Arrange a few slices of sausage on top, and sprinkle with green onions.

Beef Empanadas (aka Cowboy Pockets)

This morning when I walked out the door, there was snow on the ground!!!  We've had a couple of flurries so far, but nothing that stuck.  I love the first snow that sticks!  It makes me want food that sticks... to my ribs, that is.

Har har har.

The brand of creativity in the kitchen changes when the temperature drops, from "What am I going to do with all this fresh produce?" to "What else can you do with meat and potatoes?"  It's dark by the time I get home (actually, by the time I leave my office at 4:30), and I'm just not motivated to do little grocery shops as often as I am in the summer.  The past couple of nights, I've just started pulling things out of my fridge and freezer, and seeing what comes of it.  Leftover soup, crackers and cheese?  Perfect.  Leftover roast chicken + leftover quinoa + frozen peas and green beans + carrots, ginger, garlic, and soy sauce + an egg = Chicken Fried Quinoa.  Genius.

Last night, I was staring at this giant tub of dates that's in the fridge.  I got them at Costco a couple of weeks ago, as a challenge to myself.  It's like Iron Chef - the secret ingredient is... DATES!

Have you ever had bacon-wrapped dates?  They are amazing.  There's nothing else to them!  Wrap bacon around a date.  Bake it.  How about Larabars?  Are you shocked that there's nothing else in most of them besides dates and nuts?  They taste like candy!

To tell you the truth, I've never had a traditional empanada.  Apparently they have olives, raisins, and hard-boiled eggs in the filling.  That didn't sound particularly appetizing to me, so this recipe is my take.




Beef Empanadas (aka Cowboy Pockets)


For the dough:

3 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 cup rye flour
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 cup butter, cold and cut into smallish pieces OR frozen and grated using a food processor
2 eggs, lightly beaten with 2/3 cup cold water
2 tablespoons white vinegar

Sift together flours and salt.  If using cold (not frozen) butter, blend it into the flour using a pastry blender or your fingers, until the mixture resembles bread crumbs, with some pea-sized pieces remaining.  If using frozen, grated butter, simply stir into the flour (it's like magic).  Using a fork, stir in eggs, water and vinegar just until the dough forms a shaggy mass and holds somewhat together.  Add a few more drops of water if needed.  Turn out onto a lightly floured surface, and knead a couple of times to form a cohesive ball.  Divide dough in half, and shape each half into a flat rectangle.  Wrap separately in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

For the filling:

3 slices bacon, chopped
1/2 yellow onion, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 pound ground beef (not too lean! I used 85% lean)
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon dried thyme
salt and pepper
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
10 dates, chopped

In a large heavy skillet, saute bacon until crisp.  Remove to a paper towel-lined plate.  Do not discard bacon fat.  Add onion and carrot to drippings, and saute until slightly softened, about 3 minutes.  Add garlic and cook 1 more minute.  Add beef, breaking it up as it browns with the back of a wooden spoon.  Season with salt, pepper, cumin, smoked paprika, and thyme, and cook until evenly browned, about 5 minutes.  Add tomato sauce and dates, stir to combine, and cook until liquid is reduced but still moist, about 5 more minutes.  Taste and adjust seasonings if needed, and stir in reserved bacon.  Transfer to a plate and allow to cool slightly.

To make the empanadas:

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Remove dough from the refrigerator one half at a time.  Cut each half into 6 equal pieces.  On a lightly floured surface, roll each piece of dough into a circle about 6 inches in diameter.  Spoon about 3 tablespoons of filling into the center of the circle.  Moisten the edges with a little bit of water, and fold over to form a semi-circle.  Crimp edges with a fork.  Brush tops lightly with egg wash (1 egg beaten with a splash of water) and score with a sharp knife.  Continue with remaining dough and filling.  Bake about 25 minutes, until golden.  Allow to cool slightly.  Serve with sour cream.

Note: to make ahead (or eat later), prepare empanadas (do not bake), and then freeze on baking sheets.  Remove and bake as needed!  Homemade hot pockets!

Yield: 1 dozen empanadas