thank you

For my first assignment in the Navy, I wanted to learn as much as I could about the Navy, preferably in the Atlantic Fleet. I wasn’t too keen on going overseas right off the bat, and when I did go overseas I didn’t want it to be to the Far East. Which is, of course, why my first assignment took me to South Korea…where I worked for the Army! I was assigned to the Public Affairs Office of the headquarters for US Forces Korea, so technically it was a joint (or interservice) command. My boss was an Army Colonel and his boss was a four-star general, also “hatted” as the Commander of the United Nations Command (in case of war) and the Eighth US Army. As it turned out, I couldn’t have asked for a better assignment.

My job involved coordinating media coverage of the 43,000 troops then stationed in South Korea. Most of the interest was in the forces near the Demilitarized Zone, or DMZ. I was also responsible for setting up and escorting weekly tours for the press to Panmunjom, the truce village that sits inside of the DMZ. The DMZ is a two-mile wide strip of land that bisects the Korean peninsula into the communist north and democratic south, one mile on each side of the military demarcation line that was decided on during the truce talks that stopped the shooting of the Korean War in 1953. I made several trips to Panmunjom during the course of my year in-country.

The Imjin River acts as a natural barrier on the southern side of the DMZ, limiting access to that area for travelers from the south. There is a large plaza with war memorials near the Freedom Bridge which allows military and special access to the area near the DMZ. This is the furthest point north that most South Koreans are allowed to travel. We used the plaza area, Imjingak, as the rendezvous point for many of the press tours to Panmunjom.

One day I arrived at Imjingak a little before my scheduled tour. It was a great opportunity to walk through the park and see the memorials. I also took note of the various groups that were there. There was a group of girls, probably fifteen or sixteen years old. I saw them again a bit later, in the parking lot. I was in my dress blue uniform, with the white and black hat (or “cover”) on my head. One of the girls approached me and very shyly said “Hello” in English. “Anyonghaseyo,” I replied, with a smile. Next came “how are you?” to which I echoed “kibuni chosumnika?” (Is your spirit okay?) The girls erupted in giggles at hearing a foreigner trying to speak their language. We commenced a short volley of standard English and Korean phrases, with lots of giggling and smiling. As the girls boarded their bus, a very elderly gentleman dressed in a traditional Korean hanbok approached me. With a slight nod of his head, he said, “kamsahamnida.” Thank you.

His words came at the beginning of my time in the Navy; it was what turned an intended four-year hitch into a twenty-two year career. That day at Imjingak and all the days after, I was the one who was thankful, for the opportunity and honor of serving our nation.

dim sum

At the end of a long trip last month, I stopped in DC and had dinner with two friends, one a naval officer and the other a Foreign Service Officer. Our conversation turned to the early years of our careers, in the waning days of the Cold War and the period just after the Berlin Wall fell. It was very interesting to hear tales of living in Romania – so challenging that embassy folks knew to carry their own light bulbs when they traveled outside of the capital! I talked a bit about my job in South Korea, where I spent a lot of time escorting news media up to the Demilitarized Zone, peering into communist North Korea. When my dad came out to see me, we took a trip to Hong Kong and made a tour up to the border with communist China.

I told my friends about the trip to Hong Kong. My dad had first traveled there while an enlisted man serving in the Pacific Fleet at the end of World War II. After the war ended he got an appointment to the Naval Academy, where an upperclassman told him he could never make it as a Naval aviator. That got Dad’s goat, and he buckled down and graduated in the top part of his class, earning a spot in flight school. After earning his pilot’s Wings of Gold, he joined a squadron in the Pacific Fleet. It was during the Korean War, and they deployed to the theater, with a stop in Hong Kong on the way. (As a side note, Dad’s aviation career was cut short when his plane and the deck of an aircraft carrier became intimately acquainted. Fortunately he walked away with little more than a scratch, but realizing that the upperclassman at Annapolis had been correct all along, Dad became a surface warfare officer and spent the rest of his career driving ships.)

When we went to Hong Kong in 1988, it was fun to watch my dad experiencing the city again, 35 years or so after his last visit. He was amazed by the modernization and growth of the city. I’ll never forget standing on Victoria Peak with him, and what he said as he looked out at the busy harbor and bustling city below. “Wow, this place sure has changed from the last time I was here.”

The Washington Post had done a special feature on dim sum shortly before my dad’s visit. When we got to Hong Kong, he was eager to partake in the Chinese delicacies that traditionally accompany afternoon tea. We ate a lot of dim sum that week. Dad was so taken by it that I’m pretty sure if there had been such a thing as a dim sum breakfast, we would have found it and partaken of it, too.

That is the story I told my friends last week, over dinner in DC. The next day I returned to New York. When I went through the large amount of mail that had accumulated, there was a package from my uncle, forwarding a couple of things he had found while going through some boxes that had been in my grandmother’s attic. One was the certificate given to my dad when he completed flight training. The other was a postcard my dad had mailed him from Hong Kong on October 18, 1988. “Hong Kong has changed one heckuva lot since I was here in 1945, 46, and 53; and they’re still building skyscrapers. Came down here from Seoul with Ellen. The Navy’s giving her a real education – when she leaves Seoul in December, she goes to Spain. Love, Dave” Twenty-four hours after telling my story of a trip taken twenty-two years earlier, I was holding Dad’s version in my hands.

I don’t know why he didn’t tell Uncle Andy about the dim sum; we certainly tasted enough to fill a postcard or two! Here’s a recipe for a dim sum-inspired treat.

Squash Potstickers

Makes about a dozen

One small butternut or kabocha squash

Salt and pepper

3-4 tablespoons canola oil

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

2 tablespoons finely chopped walnuts or pecans

1 package won ton wrappers

1. Preheat oven to 400F.

2. Wash and dry squash. Cut squash into quarters, removing membrane and seeds. Place on tray, drizzling with 1-2 tablespoons oil and seasoning with salt and pepper.

3. Roast in oven for about 40 minutes, until you can insert a knife into the flesh easily. Remove from oven and let cool.

4. Scoop roasted flesh into a bowl, mashing with a fork to bring it to a puree-like consistency. Stir in cinnamon, nuts, and salt and pepper to taste.

5. Make the dumplings by laying an empty won ton wrapper on a cutting board. Scoop a small amount of the squash mixture into the center of the won ton skin, making sure there is plenty of room on the sides so that you can fold over the wrapper without the innards oozing out. Seal the dumpling by dipping your finger in a bowl of water and running it along the edge of the pasta. Press together to seal, and crimp the edge with a fork.

5. To cook the potstickers, you will need a sauté or frying pan that has a lid. Heat remaining oil in pan on medium high heat. Add the dumplings and sauté for two minutes. Then pour about a quarter cup of water in the pan, cover and steam for two minutes. Serve immediately.

Notes

- Won ton wrappers are available in the refrigerated section of most grocery stores.

- If desired, serve with a mix of soy sauce and dark sesame oil mixed with sliced scallion and minced ginger.

ode to joy

Music and cooking are a great culinary pairing.

A few years ago I catered a dinner party for a friend of my sister. Nelson is a portrait artist who lives in a painting- and sculpture-filled house outside of Philadelphia. His youngest children have inherited their father’s talent and have channeled it into music (and skateboarding, in the case of the youngest son). I spent the afternoon prepping the dinner, with Annalisa’s piano music making its way into the kitchen and filling the room – and my heart – with beautiful melodies. It made for one of my favorite cooking memories.

My sister and her husband hosted an engagement party for my niece just after I finished culinary school, and one of my classmates flew to Atlanta to help me cater the party. We had a great time doing our prep work to the inspiring songs of ABBA, the Swedish songsters doing a lot to help us channel our inner Dicing Queen. However, after about the twentieth replay of the cd, Anne begged us to find something new to play, so we moved onto Meatloaf. We had no choice.

This fall most of the cooking I’ve been doing has been in the kitchen of the house I’m sharing in upstate New York. One night last February I received a call from a high school friend who lives in Brooklyn. Maura and her husband Scott happened to be in my neighborhood, and I joined them for a beer. As our discussion continued, Maura mentioned that some friends of hers had a house for rent in a small town on the banks of the Hudson. The friends in question are two brothers from Charleston who have written a couple of cookbooks and have done a lot of travel and food-related writing. The more we talked about the house the more it became obvious that this was a no-brainer: the chance to cook in a kitchen owned by James Beard-award winners, and my share of the rent for a weekend house would be less than it was costing me to park my car in Manhattan?! Yes!

The upstate kitchen is a wonderful spot for cooking and listening to music. I open iTunes and turn to the classical radio station from Wyoming. They play a lot of the full rich sounds that I love, and it’s a real treat to hear the weather forecast “ten inches of snow tonight” and catch myself in a temporary state of confusion. The farmers markets right now are like a beautiful symphony, brimming over with gorgeous vegetables of every color and shape. I recently discovered the Long Island Cheese Squash, so named for its resemblance to a wheel of cheese. I used it in a curried soup; a butternut or kabocha squash would work just as well. I hope this recipe makes your tastebuds sing!

Harvest Squash Soup

Serves four

1 medium-sized squash, about 3 pounds

1 medium onion, cut into medium dice

4 to 6 cups vegetable stock

2-3 teaspoons curry powder

Extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 400F.

2. Scrub squash clean and cut into quarters. Remove seeds and stringy innards. (Note: seeds can be reserved for garnish, see below.)

3. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper of lightly oil it. Place squash quarters on the pans and drizzle with olive oil and season with a sprinkling of salt and pepper.

3.. Roast squash in 400 degree oven approximately 30-40 minutes, or until cooked. (Test for doneness by inserting a fork or sharp knife into flesh. Squash is cooked when said utensil goes into flesh easily.)

4. Allow squash to cool enough for easy handling. Meanwhile, sauté diced onion in olive oil over medium high heat, until translucent. At the end of cooking, add the curry powder and stir to combine with onions; cook over heat for about a minute more. (This technique helps bring out the oils in the spices of the curry mix and enhances the flavor)

5. Scoop cooked squash out of the skin and put in the pan with the onions. Discard skins. Add about 3 cups of stock. Puree with an immersion blender. (Alternatively, moved cooked onions into a blender, add cooked squash there, cover with stock. Close blender tightly, covering the top with a dishtowel just in case of “explosion” during processing.) Once majority of squash/onion mixture is pureed, you can add more stock (and water as needed) to get soup to your desired thickness and consistency. Remember that the soup will thicken after the pureeing, so you’ll want to make it a little thinner than you think you want. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

6. Serve soup warm, garnished with roasted seeds, a sprig of thyme (an ingredient in the stock), or a dollop of sour cream/crème fraiche.

Note: For squash seed garnish, separate seeds them from the stringy membranes, place on an oiled cookie sheet, drizzle with oil and season with salt and pepper. Toast in 250 degree oven for about an hour, until crispy.

magic

Maybe it’s the full moon that has appeared this week, or perhaps I’m still savoring a wonderful visit to Maine last weekend, but right now my mind is filled with awe and magic. I got these beautiful eggs from a favorite farmer this week, and they have had me entranced.

New York City has given me some pretty magical moments during our “courtship” of the past four years. One evening I was walking along Central Park South toward Fifth Avenue and as I approached the Plaza I heard beautiful music, almost like there was a real live soundtrack being played to accompany my perambulation. It was the hotel’s 100^th birthday and the Peter Duchin orchestra was set up for the festivities outside. I stood with a small group and listened for a few minutes, and as I started to leave, they began playing my favorite song, Begin the Beguine. I had a class uptown and I think I literally floated my way up Madison Avenue, Cole Porter humming through my head.

Earlier this week I stopped in at one of my favorite morning spots, Piccolo Café. The name is appropriate – it’s even smaller than my tiny apartment. But what it lacks in size it more than makes up in flavor! One of the owners is a tall Italian with an accent as thick as their espresso. As he steamed the milk for my coffee, Mr. Latte shared that their business is going very well right now, with a second spot in the works. Walking home up Third Avenue, I thought about our very pleasant exchange and about how wonderful it is to see their success. New York is sharing her magic in beautiful, subtle ways now.

The best way to experience the magic is to walk the city’s streets, but you can also enjoy a meal filled with flavor and goodness. This sandwich is my version of one of Piccolo’s tasty treats.

Egg Sandwich with Greens

1. Dress a handful of greens in a spoonful of a simple vinaigrette. (In the bottom of a bowl, use a fork to mix together one soup spoon of olive oil and one teaspoon of balsamic or sherry vinegar, add salt and pepper to taste. Lightly toss the greens in the dressing.)

2. Lightly toast two slices of bread.

3. Scramble two eggs in a pan with butter.

4. Place cooked eggs on one slice of bread, top with a sprinkling of grated parmesan cheese, top that with a handful of the dressed greens and sliced tomatoes, then the second slice of bread.

5. Enjoy!

nature and nurture

"The Hudson nurtures those who are attuned to its voice."

That sentence appears in the prologue to The Hudson: America's River, by Frances Dunwell. At the river's southern end, it can be hard to hear the river's voice amidst the cacophony of the city's traffic and inhabitants. Further upstream, it is hard not to hear the river's voice, whether in the gentle lapping of the waters on the shore, in the honking of barges heading up to Albany, or in the squawking of migrating geese stopping for a rest in one of the river's many bays. The river has inspired generations of artists and writers, and now the Hudson River Valley is home to a lot of the farmers and cooks who are part of our nation's growing locavore/eat local movement. And what inspiration there is!

Despite the heat and drought of this summer, it has been a great year for eating delicious treats grown in the valley - corn, beans, heirloom tomatoes. A fun discovery has been a number of orchards and farms with pick-your-own options. One morning as I was driving back to the city, I decided to pick some peaches. It was nice to see the smiles on faces of the men who work in my apartment building when I gave them a bag of the sweet treats, but the real gift was being in the orchard atop a ridge, under a bright blue sky with the stately Catskill mountains off to the west and the rolling hills of the Berkshires off to the east.

I returned to that same farm last week, to pick apples in one of their other orchards. This one sits lower on the hillside so the view isn't quite as dramatic, but the bright sky and the snaps of crisp autumn air made it just as nurturing. A friend from culinary school was up for a short visit and we quickly filled our bag with Jonagolds, Empires, Cortlands, and a few Honeycrisps for good measure. Most of the fruit went back to the city as gifts for friends, but a few of them found their way into delicious little cakes.

Natalia adapted a batter cake recipe that we found in the Once Upon a Tart cookbook. Enjoy!

Apple Tea Cakes

adapted from Once Upon a Tart

1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, melted and cooled to room temperature (plus a tad more for buttering cake pans)

3-4 tart apples, peeled, cored and cut into slices

1 tablespoon cinnamon

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup brown sugar

zest of one lemon

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 large egg, lightly beaten

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

1 1/2 cups walnuts, coarsely chopped

1. Preheat oven to 350. Butter/grease 3 small loaf pans.

2. Toss apples with cinnamon, lemon zest and 1 tablespoon of the sugar. Set aside.

3. Whisk together sugar and flour in a mixing bowl, then whisk in the cooled melted butter, vanilla and egg until just combined. Stir in the walnuts and continue mixing until no flour is visible.

4. Place a layer of apples in the bottom of each pan. Cover with about a half-cup of the batter, then top with another layer of apples. Portion out the remaining batter evenly into each pan.

5. Bake in center rack of oven for about 30 minutes, or until top is golden brown and a toothpick or cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean.

6. Remove from oven and cool on a wire rack. Remove cake from pan by turning it over onto a plate or simply slice from the pan. Cake can be enjoyed while warm or at room temperature. (And it makes a great breakfast treat the next day!)

serendipity

It was Wednesday. Food section day. I ventured into Hudson, New York, to one of my favorite little coffee places. Realizing I hadn't picked up a copy of the Times, I went inside, but unfortunately no one had a left a paper behind for my reading pleasure. I asked the gal behind the counter where I might find one. With a nice smile, she directed me up the street.

I went back in the shop, paper in hand. She greeted me with another great smile. “It’s Wednesday, the best day to read the paper,” I said. She nodded in agreement, “yes, it’s the food section day.” I commented that the Sunday paper usually has some good reading too. “I was in the Sunday paper five years ago. I was working in a bakery in Brooklyn and they did a little feature about me.” Given the positive energy she radiates, it wasn't hard to see why someone would want to write a story about her.

About a year ago I found a great granola recipe on a food blog; I can’t remember which website but I do remember the bakery that was the source. It turns she worked in that very same one. I told her how much I love their granola; it turns out it was her recipe. We talked about food and New York for a few minutes, and then I asked her how she got her culinary training. Of course - she was in the Navy! She joined when she was eighteen to become a cook, then known by the rating denominator Mess Specialist. ("Mess" being a reference to the area in which sailors eat; about five years ago the Navy changed the job title to Culinary Specialist to better reflect the professionalism of this cadre of Sailors.)

As if her having served in the Navy wasn’t enough of a coincidence, it turns out she served in the same maritime patrol squadron that was deployed in Puerto Rico when I was stationed there. Turns out she was giving sustenance to the group of rowdy pilots who used to keep me awake late at night in the Bachelor Officers Quarters! But I guess now that I have a great granola recipe, all is forgiven.

Over the course of the past year, I’ve tweaked the granola recipe I found a bit. Who knows, after having been revised by the bakery owners (who put together a prize winning cookbook), then by the writer of the blog where I found it, and then by me…well it may just be Keira’s original recipe. Except her energy and light is a secret ingredient that may be hard to match. My version of the recipe is below.

This granola is great in a parfait with homemade yogurt (more on that later), or simply plain when you’re in the mood for a little natural sweetness.

Easy Homemade Granola
adapted from an original recipe by Keira the Sailor

Ingredients:
2 cups rolled oats
1 teaspoon Chinese five spice powder and a pinch of cinnamon (or just cinnamon)
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
3 tablespoons honey
1/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar (maple sugar crystals make a great substitute)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2/3 cup slivered almonds
1/3 cup golden raisins
1/3 cup dried cranberries or cherries

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, toss the oats with the spices and salt.

In a medium bowl, stir together the oil, honey, brown sugar, and vanilla. Whisk until completely combined.

Pour the honey mixture over the oats mixture and use your hands to combine them: Gather up some of the mixture in each hand and make a fist. Repeat until all of the oats are coated with the honey mixture.

Pour the mixture onto the prepared baking sheet. Spread it out evenly, but leave a few clumps here and there for texture.

Bake for 10 minutes, then remove from the oven and use a metal spatula to lift and flip the granola. Sprinkle the nuts over the granola and return the baking sheet to the oven.

Bake for 10 minutes, then remove from the oven and use a metal spatula to lift and flip the granola.

Bake for 10 minutes, then remove from the oven. Let cool completely. Sprinkle the raisins and cherries over the granola.

commemoration

For the past several months I have been sharing a house upstate in a little village on the Hudson River. It's been mostly a weekend getaway, but with fall in full bloom I decided to immerse myself in the area and am spending most of my time upstate. In a way it's fulfilling my dream, like that of so many, of moving to a charming estate in Tuscany - only without updating the passport, learning a new language and eating way too much pasta and bread. The time spent upstate has yielded a new set of sea stories, and I'll share a few on this blog, but now I'd like to record where I went and what I saw yesterday.

Eight years ago my father was invited to attend some events commemorating the 225th anniversary of the Battle of Saratoga, a turning point in the American Revolution. He'd invited me to join him and my mom in making the trip. I was looking forward to the trip, probably for escaping the Pentagon as much as for spending time with my folks and learning more about our nation's history. Unfortunately as the date drew closer my dad wasn't feeling well, so we decided to postpone the trip. We were never able to reschedule. Yesterday would have been his 84th birthday. I decided to commemorate his day with a drive through the Battenkill Valley to the Saratoga National Historic Site.

As so many days this time of year, the weather was perfect - bright blue skies, gently floating white clouds, a light breeze and sunshine bathing everything in a beautiful golden sheen. I'd mapped out a route and used GPS to navigate through the tricky twists and turns outside of Albany, where I'd planned to take a major county road up through the east side of the Hudson. The GPS had a different idea, sending me on a side road, where I came upon this gorgeous view at the Tomhannock Reservoir.

After a loop up through the area on the east side of the Hudson, I crossed the river and then drove down to the western area, arriving at the Saratoga National Historic Site and battlefield in mid-afternoon. A park ranger greeted me at the visitor center and after a brief orientation, invited me to view the short video about the battle. The film opened with a quotation from Major Henry Dearborn, who summed up the spirit that led our rebels to stand tall against the British, achieving a key victory in the road to independence. One of the rangers was nice enough to copy the pages from his journal so I could have his words: "...we who had Something more at stake than six pence per day kept our ground...." Simple words but a depth of meaning behind them.

I headed out to explore the battlefield on the driving tour. Despite having been friends with a lot of infantry officers while stationed in Korea, I've never had a great understanding of ground battles, this flanking motion, that charge. After a great discussion with the rangers in the Visitor Center, I was skeptical about what I'd take away from visiting the ten spots outlined on the map. But it is a one-way route and once I set out, I was committed. Stop One is an overlook at Freeman's Farm, where most of the fighting occurred on 19 September 1777. I looked out over the field and tried to imagine what it was like that day, with smoke and blasts from the artillery and rifles and muskets filling the air. After a few minutes I returned to the car to head to Stop Two.

About halfway down the road a marker on a hill caught my eye, and I backed the car up, parked and walked up the hill to learn more about this short obelisk standing by itself on a hillside.

With the sun's angle and a dying camera battery, I got only this photograph. But I copied the inscription:

Here Morgan, reluctant to destroy so noble a foe, was forced by patriotic necessity to defeat and slay the gentle and gallant Fraser.
To commemorate the magnanimity of Morgan’s heroic nature and his stern sense of duty to his country, this tablet is here inscribed by Virginia Neville Taylor, Great Grand Daughter of Gen. Daniel Morgan.

I came upon this simple memorial on a day that I was remembering my father, who was also imbued with a stern sense of duty to his country. I'm not exactly sure when Virginia Neville Taylor lived or exactly why she erected this historical marker to her great grandfather. But I hope to find out.