When the yard gives you carrots, make Tandoori chicken

The carrot crop came in, big time, this weekend.
The guinea pigs were beside themselves.

Everyone else was kind of frightened by the wild and crazy bunch.
I decided to ease the crew into the fresh and yummy carrot spirit by making our chicken dinner orange, too.
I put one teensy, tamed, grated, barely-discernable carrot into a non-threatening green salad*.

On the side.

Getting all fancy

When I was a kid, you knew a meal was fancy when it was garnished with a sprig of parsley.

Now, you know a meal is fancy when it isn't garnished with a sprig of parsley.

Hopefully, even years from now, people will know dessert is fancy when it's garnished with these lovely lacy cookies.   Or even when dessert is just these lovely lacy cookies, all by themselves.  After all, unlike that curly parsley*, these are: 

a) actually impressive looking; 

b) meant to be eaten; and, 

c) absolutely scrumptious.

I like my fruit tart

Ever since I was a kid, I've liked my fruit tart.  As in really super sour.

There we would be, in front of a pile of fresh apricots at the market.   "Apricots!!  My favorite*!!" I would say, squirming in anticipation. My mom would select a handful, carefully choosing the best of the bunch.  The flesh would be a magnificent orange color, soft and just barely fuzzy.  There was enough give to the touch to know the stone pit was slightly loose, and you could tell by the smell alone that the inside would be juicy and sweet and perfectly ripe.  She knew how to pick fruit, my mom did, and she was passing this important knowledge down to her daughter.  "Try this," she'd say.

I'd wrinkle up my whole face and frown. "Mom! You know better!"

Mom would sigh and start picking through the pile again, this time looking for the ones that were hard as rocks. Still orange, so they tasted like an apricot, but with none of that sun-kissed lush sweetness so beloved by normal people.  "It is hard to find the good ones," I'd say happily, falling in right beside her and reaching for an acidic little nugget.  "Yes, it is," she'd agree.  Eventually she'd just hand me the bag and move on to get lettuce for the guinea pigs**.

Ditto with the the nectarines. And the plums. Especially the plums.  If I didn't hear a satisfying, apple-like crunch and feel my entire mouth pucker up when I bit into a piece of stone fruit, I was sorely disappointed  On the other hand, eating a crispy, tart, nearly-but-not-actually ripe peach could (and still does) make my day, and I ate myself silly every summer.

The whole family eventually started to get into the swing of things.  My little sister would run up to me with a pear,  "Try this one! It feels like metal!"  My mom waited almost eagerly for my stomach to sieze up from all of the acid (which it did, regularly) so she could say, "I told you so!" But my dad, god love him, actually ate that sour fruit right along with me.

He likes his tart, too.

Fresh Stone Fruit Tart
I made this with some gorgeous pluots I got at the farmers' market.  The original recipe (from Ina Garten) used plums, and I bet subbing in peaches or nectarines would be fantastic, too.  However you go on the fruit side of things, the tart part could not be easier.  The dough forms a rich shortbread cookie crust and a delectable buttery topping at the same time, and the fruit in between is straight up summertime.  This is a great way to use up that icky ripe, very flavorful, sweet fruit.  Save the nice, crunchy sour fruit to eat while you're waiting for this to bake.

2 1/2 c., plus 2 Tbs., flour
1 c. finely chopped pecans
1 c. brown sugar, packed
1 c. (2 sticks) butter, diced
1 egg yolk
1 tsp. vanilla
2 lbs. plums, pluots, nectarines or apricots, sliced into small wedges
About 1/3 c. sugar, depending on the sweetness of your fruit
Splash of almond extract

Combine flour, pecans, and brown sugar in the bowl of a food processor, and run for about 30 seconds to make sure ingredients are well blended and the nuts are finely chopped.  Add butter and pulse until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.  Add egg yolk and vanilla, and process until ingredients come together and the mixture looks similar to cookie dough.

Pre heat oven to 375.  Press 1 1/2 c. of the dough over the bottom and sides of a 9 inch tart pan with removable sides.  Refrigerate for at least an hour, or place into the freezer for a few minutes.  

In a medium sized bowl, combine the fruit with the sugar and almond extract.  Allow to sit for 15 minutes or so. Working in concentric circles, arrange fruit in a pattern on the tart shell.   Crumble the remaining dough on top.

Bake for 10 minutes, then lower the oven temperature to 325.  Bake for an additional 25-35 minutes, or until topping is deep golden brown and you can see some of the fruit juices bubbling up from the tart.

Cool for a few minutes, then carefully remove sides from tart pan and place tart on a flat plate.  Serve warm or at room temperature.  Amazing with vanilla ice cream or fresh whipped cream***.

Click to print this recipe!

* My favorite at that specific moment in time.  The day before I would have inhaled a couple of pounds of fresh cherries, swearing eternal allegiance, and five minutes after the apricot incident I'd go on and on about a particularly great batch of blueberries I'd found.
** Who are, pretty much, the opposite of picky.  The lettuce could practically have rotted and they'd still be in ecstasy.  She loved buying produce for the guinea pigs.
*** If you are feeling truly decadent, throw on some warm brown sugar butterscotch sauce, too.  Why not? It's fruit.  It's good for you.  That's what my mom always told me.

This little piggie had babies

Our little Jazzy became a mom on Saturday*.

Motherhood.  It's part sheer terror...

but mostly bliss.  

Happy Mother's Day, Jazzy!

* There was a flurry of hope for babies back in July, but she was just overdoing it on the strawberries.
These photos were taken when the babies were about six hours old.

G-Force for evil

When Jerry Bruckheimer is arming animated guinea pigs, you know it's not going to be a good thing. But according to The Associated Press, the sins of this movie extend far beyond being a piece of crap film*:

"LOS ANGELES — The Disney movie "G-Force" shows a squad of specially trained, computer-generated guinea pig spies coming to the world's rescue. After the movie comes out, though, animal activists say it will be real life guinea pigs who need rescuing.

Some guinea pig rescue groups have already posted pleas to those who might rush out to buy the furry little rodents. "I can tell you, every single rescue in the United States and abroad** took a look at that movie trailer and said, 'Oh God, here we go,'" said Whitney Potsus, vice president of The Critter Connection, Inc., in Durham, Conn."

The article goes on to dispel some common misconceptions that are propagated by the new film:

"In "G-Force," which opens Friday, Agents Juarez, Darwin and Blaster drive cars, parachute, use blowtorches, swim, talk, walk on two legs, live in tanks with mice and rats and use hamster balls, Lyn Zantow, a volunteer for the Orange County group, warns on her Web site.

In real life, guinea pigs are noisy, eat and poop all the time, require big and clean cages, don't swim and can be expensive to care for if they get sick, she said, adding that they should be kept out of the hands of young children."

That's right. They can't swim***. Hear that, you fly-by-night impulse purchasers? They are guinea pigs. Not GOLDFISH.

But they are unbelievably cute in real life, even if they are pretty damn boring. Way cuter than those faux fur balls could ever be.


* Which was #1 at the box office when it opened, and has made nearly $90 million in the U.S. to date.
** I picture a global chorus of jaded volunteers, some of whom might not speak English, but know enough to understand yet another threat to small defenseless animals when they see a trailer in at their local multiplex. Perhaps heard muttering in French, "Merde! We just recovered from Bedtime Stories! Now this???"
*** I am hoping that this spokesperson for guinea pig kind felt it unnecessary to say that they are unable to use blowtorches in real life either. But maybe she was thinking that the threat of violent outbursts would be a deterrent to the clearly gullible American (and international!) pet-buying public.

Happy endings all around

The last 48 hours have brought a flurry of good news to Cheesy Pennies HQ, and I herewith am sharing with all of you:

1. My daughter is home!!! I went up on Thursday and collected her at the Amtrak parking lot where three and a half weeks earlier the same bus had pulled away as tears rolled down my face. I cried this time, too, but with the sheer relief and joy at seeing her jumping up and down and waving at me as the bus made the turn. Her eyes were brimming, too, as she clung to her new friends and the counselors, promising to see everyone next year. When I asked if camp was too long, too short, or just right, she replied, "Way too short!", then gave me a big smile and asked where the closest In-N-Out burger was. She sang me every camp song there is as we drove to the airport, showed me that she kept all the e-mails and letters we sent her in a special place in her trunk, and then she fell asleep on the plane ride home.


I say, way too long*.

2. It's no weeks until my niece gets to California. She called me yesterday:

Her: Hi Auntie Shar! Tomorrow I am coming to California. But you know what the problem is?
Me: There can't possibly be a problem with coming to California tomorrow! We're so excited to see you!
Her: The problem is, I have to get on an airplane for about 5 hours, and the airplane has to go to Arizona, and it stops for a long time, and then it goes again, but it's more hours, and then it comes to California.
Me: I see.
Her: And, I have to get up at 8 in the morning and go to the airport first.
Me: Here's the thing. Imagine if you did all of that. You get up at 8 in the morning. You go to the airport. You sit there for hours and hours. You go to Arizona. You sit for some more hours. And at the end? You were right back in MICHIGAN!
Her: [Huge fit of giggles]. That would be BAD!
Me: See you tomorrow!
Her: See you tomorrow, Auntie Shar!

Report from my sister this morning: She gets on the plane, and literally is pushing the side of the plane with both feet and one hand to make it go faster to California. I love that girl.

3. I got a free fro yo today at Menchie's.

4. Jazzy, fan of strawberry shortcakes, is pregnant!

5. Michael Jackson is doing well. My mom gave me the full report on our drive to my house the other day.

Her: Well, Michael Jackson is just fine.
Me: [Afraid I have missed some major news bulletin about autopsy results] He is?
Her: Yes. [Beaming] His fans have paid off all that debt. Isn't that something?
Me: Mm hmm.
Her: And, he's helping all the other celebrities.
[Now I'm just afraid in general]
Her: They can see what not to do now. He showed them the pitfalls of all that craziness, and the drugs and the doctors and doing shows when you are sick and all that nonsense. You know how I'm worried about Beyonce. She came right out and said she has dual personalities. She says she is one person when she goes onstage, and then a totally different person the rest of the time. It's just not right, but that's someone that Michael can help. Poor Brittany, too. Even Miley Cyrus is in danger, but because of Michael, I think she might be OK.
[She sighs with relief]
He can truly rest in peace.

And, with my whole family back at home, so can I.

* In truth, it was probably just right, as every single stitch of clothing that she owned was absolutely filthy, her legs were a scabby, mosquito-bitten mess, and it took an hour in the bathtub for her to become recognizable again as she emerged from under a thick layer of dirt. If all the kids came home this way, they may need to truck in some more soil for the farm. If you look closely at the photo, you can see the stains on her shirt.

Someone else must have thought of this

Strawberry Shortcakes. For breakfast.

Think about it. Fruit, dairy, bread...just like having yogurt with fruit and toast, only much, much yummier. I tried it this morning.


Brilliant idea. If I do say so myself.