Last Thursday, I was having one of those days. You know, the kind of day only a stay-at-home mother of three Spring-break-vacationing children can have. Despite my attempts to show my offspring what an awesome mom they have (swimming, movies, art projects), there was still fighting, whining and door-slamming. It was the day before payday and the grocery situation was becoming “limited,” my back was killing me from shampooing the carpet due to a recent basement flood problem, and I had already endured an hour of high-volume Power Puff Girls.

So it might be a bit of an understatement to say I was looking forward to a 2-hour session at Massage Envy that night.

Two blissful hours in a quiet, lowlight environment. Two hours of perfectly-tailored attention by a professionally trained therapist. Oh, yeah, the promise was definitely getting me through the day.

Though the Massage Envy nearest me doesn’t yet offer facials, they do have a stunning variety of massage services from simple relaxation to cranial-sacral to prenatal massages. Signature enhancements include AromaTherapy, Deep Muscle Therapy, Sugar Foot Scrub Therapy or — my favorite — Hot Stone Envy.

My most recent experience, however, was a straight-forward deep-tissue “work the knots out” massage. While filling out an intake form, I came to a section asking me about pain in specific areas (neck, back, shoulders, etc.). Just below that was a simple question: “Are you comfortable having therapeutic massage on the following areas,” followed by a list of possible “off-limits” regions. While I’m fine with most spots including scalp, face and glutes, I can’t stand having my feet massaged. Call me crazy, but it tickles too much to enjoy. I really appreciated being asked this questions beforehand. It could save a client from a potentially uncomfortable moment.

Of the 35 therapists working in the Kirkland location, I was lucky enough to be scheduled with Ben. He applied just the right amount of firm pressure, he intuitively knew which areas needed extra attention and he was quiet unless I asked him a question. Oh, and his hand massage was amazing!

You may think I’m being cruel recounting my Thursday night life-saver, but take heart because…I’m giving away a $50 Massage Envy gift card in honor of Mother’s Day (Sunday, May 12, in case you forgot)! Leave a comment describing your favorite food memory of your mom — it could be a favorite meal or recipe, a funny holiday “disaster” story, an amazing restaurant meal together or even an exotic travel memory. But, it has to be something you experienced together. The winner, chosen on Saturday, May 4, will be contacted and the gift card mailed. Limit one comment entry per person.

Growing Eating Living

Cheerleading for local businesses is a passion of mine and yesterday was a double scoop of local. Massage Envy of Woodinville owners Lydia and John Alexander celebrated the franchise’s eighth anniversary in a rather unorthodox way – they treated their customers to a fantastic healthy cooking class at the uber-green 21 Acres farm.

Dedicated to “growing, eating, living,” the mission at 21 Acres is to educate individuals and business alike on sustainable building, farming and cooking methods. The gorgeous 9 million dollar building (funds provided by a private grant), serves as perhaps the best LEED certified example in the county. Minimally disruptive foundation pillars, hollow “Lego” brick frame work, geo-thermal water heating system, solar energy panels, composting toilets (insert incorrect association of camping toilet here)…the list goes on and on.

Our tour guide Deb was an encyclopedia (a rather funny one) on the green building standards at 21 Acres Farm.

In fact, our tour guide, 21 Acres administrator Deb Sternagel, mentioned so many different systems implemented on the farm that I gave up trying to keep them organized in my head. The craziest part of the tour – the part that had the whole group a little nervous – was our visit to the composting end of the restrooms. Yes, we were actually taken to the giant green tanks that do the dirty work. There was flinching all around as Deb opened the hatches – I know I was expecting something revolting and was pleasantly surprised to see nothing more than sawdust with zero bad aroma. Phew!

The toilet tour was quickly forgotten as we headed through the small market store featuring both the farm’s own produce, value-added products like jams, sauces and cheeses, and some very interesting baked goods produced by the farm’s chefs (ratatouille rolls!). Upstairs we settled in for our cooking lesson in a brightly lit (naturally by the windows, of course) kitchen.

Farm produce and other locally made products are available at the market in 21 Acres Farm.

Lydia and John Alexander of Massage Envy kicked off the lesson by thanking their loyal customers who looked eager to taste the little cup of carrot-apple-ginger juice on the table. We could hear several cooks tinkering behind the scenes, but the main two presenters were Liesl McWhorter and Chef Gill with a G (think less stout Mrs. Patmore of Downtown Abbey though Gill hails from the north in Scotland).

Chef Gill with a G demonstrates how to roast a squash.

Woodinville Massage Envy owner Lydia welcomes guests.

The entire premise of the cooking lesson was to learn how to better manage your time – cook once, eat for a week. Gill with a G (pronounced like Jill with a J), began by getting a chicken ready for roasting – snipping out the backbone in order to flatten the chicken and reduce roasting time. She was delightfully funny and full of endearing Scottish-isms like “trimming the knobbly bits” of the chicken’s elbow.

Though I’ve been practicing things like making vegetable stock from trimmings, producing the very easy-to-make salad vinaigrettes and whole-grain salads for quite some time, looking around the room was all it took to remind me that many of these cook-from-scratch concepts are still foreign to most Americans.

Class guests participate by helping Chef Gill massage the kale for the salad.

One of nature’s most nutritious greens — kale comes in a multitude of varieties.

One great take-away for me is the concept of “Chop and Chat.” Instead of inviting friends merely for a coffee date, have them bring over their veggies to prep for the week. Dice carrots, onions and celery and store in separate glass canning jars for easy access when dinner demands soup, stir fry, etc. Freeze vegetable trimmings or go ahead and simmer them for a nutritious stock that can be a soup base or to enliven a sauce. Though I’ll never be the girl who makes “meals for the month” (I’m resigned to the fact that I’m just not that organized), I can see the fun and usefulness in a good ol’ chop’n’chat.

After tasting several salads, dips, spread and soups, we left class armed with a packet of new recipes, resolving to cook better and more economically. This concept has been on my mind having just read the February 2013 PCC Sound Consumer cover story claiming Americans waste up to 40% of the food grown in our country through farm mismanagement and plain old fashioned consumer waste. How many cauliflower halves or kale bits have I thrown out simply because I forgot about them?

Maybe my New Year’s Resolution should have been to waste less instead of to make my waist less. Is there such thing as a Groundhog Day Resolution?

Kirkland bladesmith and Epicurean Edge owner cuts to the chase on all things “knife.”

SURGERY, RATATOUILLE and a man’s smooth chin all have something in common — they are made possible by a razor sharp edge. Blades have come a long way from the flint knives of our cave-dwelling ancestors. Stone and bone gave way to malleable metals, forged in fire to increase their hardness.

Bladesmith Daniel O’Malley, owner of the downtown Kirkland shop The Epicurean Edge, possesses such a deep reservoir of knife knowledge that were his finger to be nicked, he might bleed steel.

But for a man who has such passion for sharp, potentially dangerous objects, he’s just about as amiable as they come. There’s laughter on his breath as he explains how a psych grad student from upstate New York ended up as president of what’s widely known as the “knife mecca of the west.”

“It was one of those things I was just always fascinated by,” say O’Malley. “I’ve definitely noticed that with knives in particular, some people are immediately captured by it and other folks just don’t get it. I was one of those people who was always fascinated by it.”

After college, O’Malley had enough financial success from his position as a database architect to take a few years off and figure out what he really wanted to do with his life. An acquaintance named Bob Kramer had just received the certification of Master Bladesmith when O’Malley approached him about an apprenticeship.

“It was one of those things where it was just perfect timing,” says O’Malley.

He apprenticed with Kramer for 2½ years before continuing moving on to the American Bladesmith Society’s Texarkana College in Arkansas. Over time he worked with several other masters including, most notably, mastersmith Bill Burke.

American knife-makers are generally hunters looking for a way to make a better edge. O’Malley approaches knives from a love of cooking, deciding not to pursue accreditation through the A.B.S. because “it doesn’t really apply to kitchen knives.”

Though the selection of high quality knives at The Epicurean Edge is unrivaled except perhaps by Korin in New York City, it is the respect for the craft that is particularly impressive. Customers can grip a beautiful handmade knife and look up on the wall to see a photo of the actual Japanese bladesmith who forged it.

Or they can shake hands with O’Malley, a bladesmith himself. Though, if you’re in the market for an O’Malley knife, patience is necessary. He currently has a nine-year waiting list for one of his custom blades, producing a knife about every three weeks.

And an original, one-of-a-kind piece carries an equally one-of-a-kind price tag. But it is hard not to think of these amazing exhibition-grade knives as treasured heirlooms. O’Malley assures that his knives could last hundreds of years if properly cared for.

O’MALLEY IS probably best known around Seattle as a knife-sharpener. Customers have sent him their knives for sharpening from as far away as Australia. “I’d say we sharpen for the vast majority of better chefs in the area,” O’Malley saysk his mild manner betraying not even a hint of arrogance.

And maybe that’s the key to his success. Sure, he sharpens the blades that cut the food at your favorite restaurant. But he also takes care of your neighbor’s lawn mower blade, an archeologist’s shovel, a home-cook’s $5 knife from Target, and an axe or two.

After years of practice, O’Malley can sharpen a knife in 15-30 minutes. Maintaining the proper angle to within half of a degree for 1,000-1,500 strokes takes immense skill.

“I think its funny,” says O’Malley, “because on a certain level, knife sharpening isn’t rocket science. I’m literally standing there rubbing a piece of metal up against rocks. It is as low tech as you can get in a lot of ways. That said, just like playing a musical instrument, there’s a lot of muscle memory involved.”

When asked if the home-cook should sharpen a knife with the poplar pull-through sharpeners, he simply states, “None of the pull-through systems do good things to knives.” Best case scenarios may bring the knife back to 60-70% of the original, but more often than not it is recurving your blade, grinding a dip that can only be corrected by a professional removing a lot of steel from the knife’s edge.

Using a ceramic hone, slowly draw your knife down the hone at a near vertical angle every three hours of use.

Honing your knife at too big of an angle (more than 17 degrees) can damage your knife.

Sharpening stones are the best way to go, but what home-cook wants to put in the hours necessary to learn the proper way to sharpen a knife when it only needs done about once a year?

O’Malley speculates on the type of person who might want to learn, saying, “It’s for the person who says, ‘I really enjoy the ownership of being able to [sharpen] my knives. There’s something that makes me excited about the idea that I can change my dull knives and make them sharp.’ Enough so that you also say, ‘You know what, I’m going to get my neighbor’s knives and fix them, too.’ It has to come from that inner excitement of wanting to do it rather than just wanting sharp knives.”

O’Malley teaches knife-care classes at several area culinary schools throughout the year and shares some major tips.

“The thing that I think is really important for people to do at home, and I can’t stress this enough, is using a good ceramic honing rod,” says O’Malley.

Most of us have a metal rod that probably came with a knife set, an inexpensive way for knife manufacturers to increase the perceived value of a set. However, O’Malley is adamant that ceramic is the only way to go.

Honing rods don’t sharpen a knife. However, when a knife cuts through an object, it’s microscopic wire edge can sometimes fold over on itself. Within 2-5 hours of use, that knife edge may be bent up to 20 degrees. Properly honing the blade brings that edge back to true.

Neglecting to hone the knife for 4-10 hours of use can cause upwards of 40 degrees of folding, making it virtually impossible to straighten. The only option is to have the knife sharpened by a professional at that point.

“Realistically,” O’Malley says, “95% of people who cook at home probably never use the honing rod and of those five percent that do use it, probably 95% use it wrong.”

HE AND HIS staff at The Epicurean Edge are always ready to demonstrate proper honing practices to customers, a skill that will double a knife’s sharpness longevity.

In addition, the type of cutting board surface is vitally important. Glass and marble should never be used because they are just too hard for a knife’s delicate edge. Plastic boards, popularized in the 1970’s by the Health Department’s restaurant sanitation decrees, aren’t any more sanitary then wood. In fact, the cuts that begin to crisscross a plastic board’s surface can harbor bacteria that is difficult to clean, even with a commercial dishwasher.

Bamboo and end-grain cherry or maple boards are ideal surfaces on which to cut, providing a homogeneous hardness and are naturally bacteria-resistant.

“Anyone treating their board reasonably appropriately,” says O’Malley, “will be alright. We’re not all keeling over from food poisoning so that tells me it is a non-issue.”

He recommends a very few essential knives for the home-cook including a primary chef’s knife, a paring knife for detail work, and a six inch slicing knife for cutting through proteins. Beyond those three, it comes down to things like whether a person slices a lot of bread or frequently fillets fish.

The Epicurean Edge opened in Kirkland in 2003, making it practically ancient by downtown business standards.

“It is strange when you walk down the street and there are like two places in the entire block that have been here the same duration that we have,” he quips.

But O’Malley really likes Kirkland, particularly taking walks on the waterfront after a long day of paperwork. “I like having the farmer’s market, too. It’s awesome!” he says of Kirkland’s Wednesday Market right behind his shop.

He speculates that many business owners think that they can just open a shop by the waterfront and mobs of people will flock by the shop and walk right through the door to buy their “widget”.

“I think that you need to make a good enough ‘widget’ that people are specifically coming to Kirkland to buy it.”

O’Malley also is enjoying the appearance of new restaurants in Kirkland.

“Milagro shows a lot of promise,” he says, adding that Trellis has shown that Kirkland can support a high-end restaurant. He sang the praises of Le Grand Bistro chef Scott Emerick. “Scott’s pedigree is incredible.”

Coming from the man who knows and has probably eaten the food of most local chefs, his opinion should count.

So whether you’re in the market for a professional sushi knife, your two-year-old Global needs some upkeep, or you just have a burning desire to talk about all things “blade,” Daniel O’Malley is the person you need to see.

More Reporter Julie articles can be found at

It all started with a sweet-tooth. My husband and I found ourselves on an impromptu Saturday afternoon date. Grandma took the kids for a few hours, so we headed to Hanuman Thai Cafe on Central Way for an aromatic bowl of Tom Yum soup and a plate of Wild Wild Squid. We were on our way to hit up Cupcake Royal in Bellevue when we discovered time was running short.

After a U-turn, we decided on some gelato at Metropolitan Market in Houghton. Of course, as parents of three young kids, we multi-tasked, turning dessert into a grocery shopping trip. Metropolitan Market offers weekly specials in newspaper format at the front of the store, which we grabbed on our way in.

One particular special caught my husband’s eye: with a purchase of two or more pounds of chuck roast, get a free bag of russets and a free bag of carrots. Management must have had pot roast on the brain.

But pot roast rarely makes an appearance in my menu-planning noodle. I suppose it must be the flashbacks to the dry, stringy hunks of meat that required copious amounts of ketchup from my childhood. Mushy carrots and mealy chunks of russet potatoes probably added to my inherent dislike of this American classic.

Fortunately, I know what else I can do with chuck roast, carrots and potatoes. Picking up some tiny pearl onions, a pound of mushrooms and a bottle of wine I was now thoroughly anticipating a magnificent Sunday dinner of Boeuf Bourguignon or Beef Burgundy in English–basically, French-style comfort food.

Though the dish is time-consuming to prepare, the majority of the work is on the front end. It can be prepared hours in advance, even the night before if desired as long as you don’t fall asleep like Julie Powell in “Julie and Julia.”

Around 3 p.m. on Sunday afternoon, I suddenly remembered what I had planned for dinner. Turning on my turbo speed, I dashed to Trader Joe’s to get the bacon I had forgotten and wisely picked up a second bottle of wine along with some cheese for dessert.

Donning my apron and a comfortable pair of shoes back home, I gave my knife a few pulls on the hone and started to prep.

First up, I sliced the bacon into small strips and simmered it in some water for about 10 minutes, which leaches out a good deal of salt. During the simmer, I prepared the three pounds of chuck roast, cutting it into 2-inch cubes and removing some of the larger pockets of fat and connective tissue.

And then came my favorite part — chopping vegetables. I just find it so satisfying to create those uniformly sized pieces of carrots, thinly slicing the onion with my sharpened Japanese steel.

Browning the meat is my least favorite part, perhaps due in part to a tong-induced ache in my right forearm. But this is an essential step for building flavor and texture into that lovely bowl of stew. The meat must be dried with paper towels before it gets sizzled in the heavy-bottomed dutch oven otherwise it won’t brown properly.

Skipping ahead, with the first half of the process finished and the stew simmering lightly in the oven surrounded with several whole spuds sitting on the rack, I had three hours before more prep was needed. I was in such a good mood from all that uninterrupted time in the kitchen that an idea burst from my mouth.

“Let’s have a party!” I exclaimed to my husband. “Let’s invite everyone.”

Thanks to modern social media, friends, acquaintances and even strangers received an open-ended invite; merely a description of the meal, the time it would be served and the question, “Any takers?”

As the house became more presentable, we remembered that a couple of major NFL games were also underway. Would anyone come to our last minute party? It looked doubtful as the clocked ticked past 6 p.m. and no reassuring chime could be heard from our wireless devices alerting us of an email or text.

To those less used to rejection, the night could have turned depressing. Not for us, however. With a windfall of tender beef and rich sauce, freshly puffed yorkies, and a whole bottle of wine to ourselves we hatched a plan.

The plan is about spontaneity, hospitality, relationships and breaking bread. When was the last time you were invited to someone’s house for dinner? Are the days of “calling” on friends, coming over uninvited, gone?

It’s definitely an old fashioned idea. We’re all so hyper-scheduled with our iPhones and our Blackberries and our Google calendars that the very notion of spontaneously inviting an unknown quantity of random people for dinner seems impossible, especially on, gasp, short notice.

But I’m not giving up. In fact, I went straight to my computer and bought the URL for FlashMobFeast.com. Consider this a social experiment aimed at igniting a home-cooked hospitality revolution in the ‘burbs.

Sure, it’s a little scary not knowing if a dozen strangers might descend on our family dinner. We’ll likely eat alone more than once.

But there are other possibilities, too. Like making new friends, deepening existing relationships, meeting other foodies. Who knows? Maybe even a local chef or two might stop by for a home-cooked gathering on their night off.

The website might take a bit to get up and running. In the meantime, keep an eye out for random Sunday afternoon tweets (@ReporterJulie) and updates (Julie-Jams) with the phrase “Flash Mob Feast.”

And keep an open mind. It could be the most delicious decision you make that weekend.

More Reporter Julie articles can be found at

Originally posted  on  January 11, 2011 on Kirkland Patch

By Julie Arnan | Email the author | January 11, 2011

Remember the old Disney cartoon where Mickey is floating through the air, drifting on a current of smell, the cooling pie on the window luring him by the nose? A similar phenomenon is occurring in downtown Kirkland. On any given Monday or Thursday, resident noses follow the rich aroma of freshly roasting coffee at Caffe Rococo on Park Lane.

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So I was curious when I found this recipe in Cooks Illustrated.  (By the way…I’ve recently discovered that recipes and fashion cannot be copyrighted)  The chicken breasts are first roasted in the oven at a low heat, warming them up to about 150 degrees.  Then they are brushed with a flavorful paste and pan-seared until they have a nice crust.  AND THEN THE SAUCE….

Oh, the sauce.  Saucing a dish is so very fancy, so Top Chef, so professional.  I fervently wish that I could just whip up various sauces without breaking my neck looking back and forth from recipe to dish.  The lemon-chive sauce recommended for the chicken is FANTASTIC (and easy)!!

I may just start liking chicken breasts again.

Pan-Seared Chicken Breasts with Lemon-Chive Sauce
(serves 4-6)

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
2 tsp kosher salt (1 tsp table salt)
1 TB veg oil
2 TB butter, melted
1 TB flour
1 tsp cornstarch
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1 recipe lemon-chive sauce (recipe follows)

1. Preheat oven to 275 degrees.  Prick the thickest part of the breasts with a fork 5 to 6 times.  Sprinkle each with 1/2 tsp kosher salt.  Place chicken, skinned side down, in a 13×9 inch baking dish and cover tightly with foil.  Bake 30-40 minutes until breast is about 145 degrees.

2.  Remove the chicken from the dish to a paper towel lined plate.  Pat dry.  Heat oil in a 12 inch skillet over MH heat until almost smoking.  While pan is heating, whisk the butter, flour, cornstarch, and pepper together.  Lightly brush the top side of each breast with the mixture.  Place chicken in the skillet and cook 3-4 minutes.  Brush other side of breast with the butter mixture.  Flip the chicken over, reduce heat to Medium and brown the other side for 3-4 minutes.  Transfer to a large plate while preparing sauce.

Lemon-Chive Sauce

1 medium shallot, minced (about 3 TB)
1 tsp flour
1 c chicken broth
1 TB juice from 1 lemon
1 TB minced fresh chives
1 TB butter, chilled
Salt and pepper

1.  Add the shallot to the empty skillet.  Cook over Medium heat until soft (2 minutes).  Add the flour, stirring constantly about 30 seconds.  Add the broth, increase heat to MH, bring to a simmer and scrape off any brown bits from the bottom.  Simmer rapidly for 3-5 minutes reducing liquid to about 3/4 c.  Stir in any accumulated juices and cook another 30 seconds.

2.  Off heat, whisk in the lemon juice, chives, and butter, season to taste.  Spoon over the chicken and serve immediately.

It is not difficult…I served it with my bacon-leek cream corn (another recipe on this site…just use the search button).  While the chicken is roasting, there is plenty of time to make the rest of dinner and set the table.

One of our favorite things to order at a nearby pancake joint is the made-to-order Dutch Baby. It’s this eggy, souffle-ish thing that puffs way up in the oven and then deflates. The original is my favorite, served with powdered sugar sprinkled on top and lemon wedges squeezed over the surface.

It seems really fancy, but is actually simple to make. Much simpler than even scones or muffins or pancakes.

Of course, recipes vary, but here is a simple version of a fabulous breakfast dish. Make sure to turn on the oven light so you and your kids can enjoy the view on the Smellavision.

Dutch Baby

2 large eggs
1/2 c milk
1/2 c all-purpose flour
a pinch of salt
2 TB butter
2 TB confectioners sugar
lemon wedges

1. Place a 10 inch skillet in the oven, then turn the oven on to 475 degrees.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk the eggs until they are light in color and frothy. Add the milk and mix thoroughly. Slowly whisk in the flour and the salt. Let is sit until the oven is preheated.

3. Remove the skillet and reduce the oven temp to 425 degrees. Melt the butter in the skillet, swirling to evenly coat the pan. Pour in the egg batter and return the skillet to the oven.

4. Bake for about 12 minutes until the Dutch Baby is lightly browned. It is fun to watch it puff way up in the oven.

5. Remove from the oven and using a spatula or a knife, lightly slide the Dutch Baby onto a large plate or platter. Sprinkle copiously with the confectioners sugar and serve with lemon wedges. Yum.

Every couple has some sort of ongoing, long-standing disagreement. Ours has to do with me thinking that I’m right about the “proper” way to make food. On all seafood matters, I happily defer to my husband who grew up eating so much seafood that I trust he knows what it should taste like.

However, on the slim chance that he’s taking a risk and making something in the/my kitchen, I find it almost impossible not to hover about dispensing tidbits of advice or, at the very least, disapproving looks when things seem to be going awry. But there is a phrase he likes to deliver that usually makes me tuck tail and leave.

“Remember the cheese sandwich?”

See, early on in our now decade-long marriage we had a little run-in regarding the proper method to make a cheese sandwich. Funny thing is, I can’t remember either one of our methods. But his was appallingly wrong and, of course, being so much more “schooled” in cooking know-how I pointed out how wrong his approach to the cheese sandwich was. His gentle response was that people can do things in different ways and that is okay. Um, okay.

Ten years later, thanks to one of my favorite publications (Cook’s Illustrated), I can finally and with confidence be sure that there is a “right” way to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

You know the two main issues plaguing a good sandwich…either the outside is charred black while the inside is still solid, unmelted cheese –or– the cheese is melted but the outside is a soggy mess. The secret? Read on…

Grilled Cheese Sandwich

2 slices of good quality bread (I was using that Innkeeper’s Bread from Costco)
A good handful of grated cheese (Gouda is gooda, but choose something you like)
Butter

Heat the skillet to Medium Low. Place a piece of dry (unbuttered) bread in the skillet and top with a good lot of cheese. Warm the bread and cheese, checking to see that the bread is not browning much. Top with the other slice of bread and carefully flip to warm from the other side. The cheese should be starting to melt by now.

While the second side is warming, spread soft butter over the top slice. Turn the heat up to Medium. Flip the sandwich so that the buttered side is down. Cook until it is a nice golden color. Butter the second side and repeat.

Perfect ooey gooey cheese. Perfect toasted, crisp bread. Perfect for this freezing cold and wet spring.

Hey, I can admit when I’m wrong about something. Especially now that I know the real “right” way to do it!

Many factors influence a good scone…freshness (for sure), good quality cream, and not overworking the dough to name a few.

I admit that I’ve had to rework the original recipe. For starters, I cut it in half. Not because I didn’t want all those scones but because I found that I couldn’t bake the full recipe at once with consistent results. I ended up with a lot of crowding and melting with the full recipe. Secondly, I took out the orange zest because it is just not my most favorite flavor. And lastly, I increased the baking time because I kept getting doughy scones. Perhaps that is because of my particular oven. You’ll have to experiment a little to find the perfect combination for yourself.

Cream Scones

2 c unbleached all-purpose flour
1/8 c sugar (I fill my 1/4 c just over half full)
1 tsp baking powder
A good pinch of Kosher salt (less if using table salt)
1/4 c dried currants (soak them in water for a bit to rehydrate…or rum is really good, too)
1 1/2 c heavy cream (use a tiny bit less than this, add more if needed)

Preheat the oven to 425. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Combine the dry ingredients with a whisk. Drain the currants and add to the flour mixture, combining until evenly distributed. Add the cream to the flour mixture. Bring together with a fork or sometimes I use a pastry cutter. Mix until the flour is moistened and then stop mixing. Over-mixing leads to tough scones. The dough is pretty wet and sticky. That’s okay.

Get some flour on your hands, then dump your dough onto the parchment covered baking sheet. Push the dough together and pat into a six inch round. It will be fairly high…like 1.5- 2 inches tall. I use a steak knife to cut the round into 8 pieces (like a pizza). Separate the pieces by at least 2 inches so they don’t bake into each other.

Using a pastry brush or the back of a spoon, brush a little cream onto each top, then sprinkle with some sugar. Bake 15-18 minutes, until they start to look a little golden. They will not get very brown. I tend to need 17-18 minutes in my oven, although the original recipe only called for 10-15 minutes.

You might have to experiment a few times to find the perfect temperature. Also, if you want to double the recipe, I recommend making the first batch, baking, and then making a second batch instead of simply doubling. But that’s just my way.

Don’t forget to serve with soft butter, honey, or jam. They are great with a cup of English Breakfast tea. To reheat, loosely wrap in foil and warm in a 300 degree oven for 10 minutes.

Now y’all can impress at the next brunch. I love these so much that I made my own Mother’s Day breakfast. Who needs a hectic coffee shop when you can sit in your pj’s at home and eat these?

And a little guilty admission from me…I normally do all my own photography, but this scone image was snagged from another site. However, they look just like the scones I make and I thought you’d like a visual. Please forgive!

The book is called “Julie & Julia”. Of course, now it’s a major motion picture starring little ol’ Meryl Streep and the cutsie Amy Adams. I’ll admit, I read the book way before I started blogging or even before I really knew what a food blog was. And I know like a billion people thought they could write a food blog after that book…like everyone who’s ever eaten has this witty wise writer lurking beneath the surface. I mean, I feel that way every time I read a book thinking, “There must be an amazing story somewhere in my brain. I could totally have written that book if I, like, wanted to.”

Anyways, I liked the movie as a story of its own…not so sure about the choice of Amy Adams, though. As much as I like her, can’t say I ever thought “Julie Powell” when considering her acting characteristics. While we were watching, my husband asked if I wanted Julia Child’s cookbook, to which I said, “Not really.” Don’t get me wrong…Julia Child deserves praise as the godmother of the American cooking revolution, but I can’t see myself making any aspics.

However, I am a huge beef stew fan…always trying new takes on the dish, whether it’s the gravy style with potatoes that my dad adores, the Newcastle Brown Ale (ala Jamie Oliver) that my friend Kasey was so fond of, or my personal favorite…the red wine based dish. So, feeling veeery cliche, I googled “Julia Child beouf borggg…..(that goodness, Google finished that word)”. Of course, even with my infinitely minimal knowledge of the French language I know how to pronounce it thanks to the popularity of the movie. It does make me feel quite refined to mouth the word “boof” like a proper Frenchie.

(Is there a way to make stew look good on “film”?)

So here I was facing a full day of cooking…it’s like a 6 hour preparation, you know. But I was excited! I mean, I love cooking and haven’t gotten to do it much lately, hence the excitement. Call me a food nerd, but I just love prepping…cubing meat, slicing veg, heating oil, and making sure the meat gets very browned. Building flavors at the bottom of the Dutch oven is strangely exhilarating…okay, I’ll move on now…

Like I said before, my personal favorite beef stew is a red-wine based concoction without potatoes (on the side is excellent, but in the stew is mushy). The main difference between what I’ve made in the past and Julia Child’s version is the sheer quantity of wine used. I’m used to the main liquid begin beef stock (well, broth in my case), with like a cup of wine. But she uses 3 whole cups…and just so you’re not bitterly disappointed when you make this recipe, 3 cups is a full 750 mL bottle of wine (so buy 2 bottles to make the meal as you’d anticipated to enjoy it).

Plus, she includes mushrooms and separately braised onions which were DIVINE! It calls for 20 small (pearl) onions. Of course, my favorite grocery store was out…something about cold storage and not looking too great. So I took a chance with 12 small white cippolini onions. Good move, let me tell you. They were so buttery and sweet. Wow…I’m still savoring their flavor and texture in my mind…again, I’ll move on now…

People…it was an amazing dinner. Totally worth the umpteen hours of prep. The house smells amazing, too. Very good, very good. Well, it’s not like I invented the dish, so how about a link to the particular recipe I borrowed? Ok, click here. Time to pass out from cooking satisfaction now.

(You know a pot that looks like this after cooking produced something good.)