September evenings with roasted chicken

Sunday night was one of those cool and quiet sort of nights, where it's warm enough to justify a cold bottle of white wine, but it's cool enough to warrant drinking it with a sweater on.

We sat outside noticing how the light is already beginning to change, it's less vibrant but somehow cozier. I still can't believe it's already September, we've been here 9 months and I feel like I just got here, like I'm still settling in. But such has been my life for the last 4 years, always feeling unsettled, with a suitcase at the ready in case we move again.

I don't have to tell you that I'm grateful for all these experiences. Four countries in four years is something I never imagined for my life.

But sometimes, on a quiet September evening, a girl just wants to sit back and feel like she's firmly planted, to wiggle her toes in the grass and know that at this time next year, she'll be staring at the same grass.

I know that it's not likely going to end up that way. The neighbours upstairs fight all the time and the traffic outside our window is noisy and rushed. Between the two of them, sometimes there's just no room left for my own thoughts.

And I'm a girl who likes her peace and quiet.
Sometimes I like to turn the stereo up, loud, but sometimes I just prefer to turn the damn thing off.
If only my neighbours had an off switch.

So yeah. It's September. Cold wine, a warm sweater, a handsome fella, and Zuni's roasted chicken with bread salad. It doesn't get much better.



I have never had this dish in the restaurant but I have made it many many times at home. Unfortunately I wasn't paying all that much attention to getting a good picture (can you blame me?) so these will just have to do.
Luckily for me, the whole recipe and instructions are already posted online at MSNBC right here.
G and I both love this dish---it looks and tastes divine.



Rushing to take a picture so we could get to the business of eating.

I bet this tastes better when Zuni does it..

Farro and Tomato Salad with Basil and Anchovies

I recently crossed another food "first" off of my list.
It goes by the name of Farro.
Ok, so you probably eat it all the time and you are shocked that I have never had it OR made it myself.
But for those of you aren't so well acquainted with farro, let me get technical for a second.
Farro, is an ancient variety of wheat, and it is very commonly eaten in Italy.
To put it even more simply: farro is like a bowl full of little wheat nubbins.
And I do love a big bowl full of nubbins.

The only farro recipe I could find in my cookbooks came from Zuni. My instincts nudged me at first. No, they actually screamed at me and told me to NOT follow this recipe. And before I proceed, let me just state this is not an attack on Zuni, this is just me knowing my tastebuds and that's that.
I loves me some Judy Rodgers so don't even go there.

First of all the combination of tomato and cucumber bores me (don't come near my tabbouleh with that cucumber!) Add basil to the mix and I am pretty much down for the count and snoring loudly.

Ok, maybe you love the combination, but this is not always about you, ok?

But I figured it was Zuni, I had to give it a shot. Yes, I have faith in the almighty Zuni.
And who knew, maybe with the anchovies this would be some miraculous combination that would change my life forever.

I cooked the farro for about 10 minutes, and let it cool. I then added some chopped tomato, cucumber and a couple of salt-packed anchovies. I tossed it with a mix of olive oil and sherry vinegar. Finally, I added some fresh basil and some salt and pepper and dug in.

Alas, it did not change my life forever.

But I tried, and that's what counts.

The good news is, I sure do like farro. Hearty and chewy and, well, hearty some more.

And have no fear, I did eat that bowl of misguidedness. I mean it was fine, but I did feel some regret about the fabulous farro salad I could have had if I had followed my instincts in the first place.

And the truth is, that I bet this farro salad tastes fabulous when Judy Rodgers has a hand in making it. I bet she has some magical pixie dust that she sprinkles over it at the end that would just make me want to eat it all the time. But alas, said pixie dust cannot be found in my cupboards, and last I checked, there was no Judy Rodgers in there either.

But at least there is Farro in my life now. I can definitely see some wheaty nubbin happiness in my future.

Zuni's Orange-Currant Scones

Zuni Orange-Currant Scones. Not shy on the butter.

When I returned from my recent trip to Canada I expected that I would bring some things back with me. But in the end, the treasures that ended up in my suitcase weren't entirely what I had anticipated. I thought I would have a suitcase full of Triscuits and Smartfood, two things that I covet and miss on a regular basis.
But these suddenly were bumped in priority and were replaced with a strong desire for a big tub of all natural smooth peanut butter, and Bandaid brand bandaids.

Because, first of all, it's not easy to find all-natural peanut butter here, and when you do it's rather pricey. And secondly, will someone please tell me why French bandaids don't stick? Is my North American skin of such a different constitution that the chemical properties of the French bandaid glue don't adhere to me?

Then came the cookbooks. Our bags were already heavy so I knew I had to be selective. Without question, Zuni made the cut. I dug that poor old book out of a dusty box and now it sits, happily, in the full sunshine of my little French kitchen.

So last weekend, as I was pondering Zisou and the speed at which his head travels, I decided I would start the day with Zuni's Orange-Currant Scones.
The fact that the recipe instructions had a very low word count intrigued me right from the start.

To make a short story even shorter, I give you this raving review:
1. easy to make.
2. oh so very good.

With a scant 1/2 cup of sugar, they have the perfect hint of sweetness. The inside is moist (hello, half a pound of butter) and the top has a perfect crumbly texture.
You could change the Orange-Currant combo to anything really. And because they are low on the sweet factor, you could easily make them savoury, by leaving out the sugar and using say, Lemon Zest and Rosemary for example. Or put some cheese on the top before you bake them.
Oy.

And here's where I'm beginning to think that perhaps the last 11 months I've been in France is starting to influence me.
The recipe says you should get 12 scones out of the batter. I tried it with the first half of the batter, and the scones were oversized. No, oversized is what Michele after 6 months in Paris would call them. At 11 months in Paris, I may even go so far as to use the word grotesquely oversized. So I Frenchified them, and made them much, much smaller. Smaller=cuter=more scones.

Without further ado, I present to you:

Orange-Currant Scones from the Zuni Café Cookbook

3 cups all purpose flour (13.5 oz)
Scant 1/2 cup sugar
4 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 pound cold butter (approx 226g or 2 sticks for North Americans)
1/2 cup dried currants
1 tb orange zest
1 large egg
1/2 cup whole milk (I used 1% and still loved them)

Oven: 350F.
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Two if you have room in your oven for two.
Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl and mix well.
Cut in butter until it is the size of small peas then add the currants and orange zest.

Whisk the egg and milk together. Add to the dry ingredients and mix and fold until the dough masses and the flour is absorbed.

Divide the dough in two and shape each into a ball. Pat each one into a 6 to 7 inch circle on a lightly floured surface. Roll to approximately 1 inch thick and cut into whatever size you want. The cookbook suggests 6 per circle, (cut like you would a round pizza). This method will produce very large scones. I cut mine into little squares and I probably got 3 times as many scones as the recipe indicates.

Bake until firm to the touch and slightly golden, about 25 to 30 minutes.