La Belle Bloggers

Dear Christine at Christine Cooks tagged me for a Beautiful Blogger Award. I am flattered to be among the others she tagged. Wow. Good company, many of them among the first people I met in the food blogosphere in 2006.

Christine was the first person to tag me online and I felt I had arrived as a blogger. Thanks, Christine!

I must reveal 7 things about myself and then tag some other deserving bloggers.

Here are the seven things you probably have not guessed:

I was once a political and legal reporter for a daily newspaper. Then I switched to food writing. Big difference. Much more fun.

I am now the CEO of a regional organization. I enjoy my job, but it means many 12-hour work days. And no time for cooking.

I am terribly shy, but I enjoy public speaking.

I once spent a day with a member of the president's cabinet, fishing on a river.

I have been inside a famous Congressman's bedroom but not for any unseemly reason.

I once interviewed a famous senator in a dark alley. I mean really dark. And scary.

I would like to own a Yorkie named Gaston.

Enough about me.

Here's the really hard part: I have met so many delightful bloggers. How to keep the list manageable?

Here's my list:

Mary from Breadchick

Toni from Daily Bread Journal

Julie at Noshtalgia

Andrea at Under a Blue Moon

Cyn at Farm Girl Cyn

Joy at Savvy City Farmer

You all feel like old friends by now, and I mean that in a good way. I know I have been missing in action a lot lately, but if I can ever explain the reason here, you will understand.

The photograph was taken five years ago in France.

Two Seasons at Chez Bateaux

I've been thinking of Chez Bateaux lately. That is not its real name, of course, but it is close enough. Our introduction came five years ago in the spring, early on a Friday afternoon. We'd taken the train from Paris, and were met at the gare in Cahors. Our driver took us up a steep gorge and then down into a valley of vineyards. The leaves on the trees were tender green. The trunks were covered with moss and lichen.

Our first two days at Chez Bateaux were water-colored and springlike, but the rest of the week was balmy, almost hot but never humid. Equidistant from the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea, the air at Chez Bateaux was perfumed with sea breeze and juniper. We lived simply, making a trip to town in the morning and lolling by the by the pool in the afternoon. The breeze moaned low on the hillside and the calls of roosters and cuckoos rang out across the valley. Workers toiled in the vineyards, staking the vines.

We were charmed by the ancient villa, which turned its back on the nondescript little village - so unlike most French villages - to face the vineyards. The sense of holiday and whimsy inside the villa enchanted me. Yellow pottery, striped linens, the colors of the Midi, everywhere. The cozy country smell of a house that is closed up for part of the year. The owl that sang for us at dusk as we closed the shutters on the damp spring night.

For three years I dreamed of Chez Bateaux. We spent two weeks in Paris on a subsequent trip, but never left. Every time our walks or bus rides took us near Gare Austerlitz, I looked at it longingly. Oh, to be on a train headed south!

Finally we returned, this time as summer slowly slipped into fall. This time we arrived mid-afternoon on a Saturday. Chez Bateaux was drenched in golden sunlight, not the watery pastels of spring, but the robust amber of harvest time. We explored the house, touching familiar doors and counters. "This is different; no that has not changed," we said, deeply satisfied with our surroundings.

This time we spent two weeks there, watching the slow subtle change of season. The mornings were chilly but burnished with lambent light; the nights were still and black. Chez Bateaux was still charming, but familiar now, like an old friend bearing gifts from distant and exotic sources.

Before I left I hid something of mine on the property; a broken silver chain tucked into a niche. Some day perhaps it will be found. Meanwhile, a piece of me is always there.

It is doubtful we will return. It's time to explore other parts of France. I still want to visit Menton; the sight of the campanile of the Basilica of St. Michael never fails to draw me in.

Chez Bateaux for me exists in my memory.

Gluten-Free Eating on a Busy Schedule

My weekdays are filled with business lunches and events and while I rather enjoy being on the go, it is extremely difficult to eat food that does not contain gluten. There are a couple of young chefs who seem to understand the challenge, and this is the lunch one of them prepared for me a few days ago when I met Holly and Andy for lunch at a local inn.

The inn was a private home built by a department store owner in 1910, and was converted to a bed-and-breakfast inn with a restaurant about 20 years ago. My neighbors owned it then, and built up a solid reputation for period elegance.

The inn changed hands a few times until it was purchased six years ago by a stylish couple who enjoy travel and cuisine. Today the sunny back room restaurant sports the colors of deep Provence. I can enjoy lunch looking over the back yard, where my mother picked lilies of the valley for her wedding bouquet.

Because this is my neighborhood restaurant, it is an easy place to turn to on a night when neither my husband nor I feel like cooking.

My community is blessed with many wonderful places to eat, from classic hamburger joints to fine dining experiences.

Another young chef is set to open an Italian restaurant later this year. When that opening takes place, I will report back. He has promised gluten-free pasta!

Join me on Facebook!

I have finally succumbed to Facebook.

Last spring I started tweeting, which was sort of like writing haiku. I liked the challenge of fitting my thoughts into 140 characters.

Now I am on Facebook, looking for friends. You can find me as French Kitchen Mimi. I haven't mastered the art of creating a Facebook page yet, but I have become a fan of two of the bloggers listed to the left. Please send me an invitation. I will happily be your friend or fan. Whatever.

Find me on Facebook as French Kitchen Mimi. Read my tweets at http://twitter.com/MimifromFKIA.

Or just stay here and read me unabridged.

Pistachio Bread and a Recipe to Savor

Because yesterday was a 12-hour day, I had neither the energy not the emotional wherewithal to prepare supper last night. I simply grabbed what was available: a hunk of cheese and another hunk of gluten-free  Irish soda bread from the Silly Yak in Madison, Wis.

On St. Patrick's Day, I try to find small ways to mark the Irish side of my ancestry, but the bread above is actually French; that is, the photo is from a street market in Cahors. Doesn't it look delectable?

Want a recipe that's Irish and healthy? Check out the colcannon at http://christinecooks.blogspot.com/2010/03/cauliflower-turnips-leeks-garlic-savoy.html. I can highly recommend the Irish soda bread at http://www.freshglutenfree.net/.

I am often inspired by Christine, and it was her redesign of her own blog that prompted me to get moving on this one.

Basil and Tomato Salad with Mozzarella Pearls

It was nearly 60 degrees and sunny here in Northern Wisconsin today. This is a rarity, but no one is complaining. Many the years we've spent the Ides of March snowbound.

As I was filling the bird feeders outside my kitchen window, I noticed that my daylilies are coming up about 10 days earlier than usual. This seems to signal a long growing season. I sent my CSA check in today, so I am looking forward to a bountiful summer.

Lately I've seen birds flying to and fro with twigs in their beeks so I know it is nest-building time. I tacked a ball of cotton scraps on a post and hammered a wreath of feathers, straw, lint and little sticks on the old horse barn. The birds get the royal treatments in our yard.

The birds were singing this morning. I went to the bank on my lunch hour without a coat. I bought a darling little rain gauge at the feed store. I left work 20 minutes early.

It won't be long now until I'll be stocking up on herb and tomato plants for the container garden on my deck. I've been growing herbs since I was a teenager, when I stumbled upon a small basket of herb seed packets at a tiny out-of-the-way secondhand book and gift shop tucked behind another building on Billington Street idowntown. I knew then that I could not live happily without growing things. That summer I grew dill and anise and chives in my parents back yard. It was pure pleasure to catch a a whiff of the herby fragrance on breezy afternoons.

I was thinking herbs when I finally hit the kitchen tonight to make supper.  A few days ago, I found these lovely little pearls of mozzarella and the Italian Market and then I rounded up these sweet little grape tomatoes. All I needed was a little fresh basil, which I did not have (the photo is from a few summers ago) so I used dried basil flakes with a dash of Penzeys California Pepper Blend.

So here's my version of Tomato-Mozzarella Salad with Basil:

• 1 bubble pack of mozzarella pearls
• 1 small can sliced black olives
• 1 cup grape tomatoes, halved
• 1 tablespoon red onions, chopped
• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
• dash fleur de sel
• dash Penzeys California Pepper Blend
• dried or fresh basil to taste

Toss ingredients and allow to sit for two hours before eating. Garnish with Asiago cheese and pine nuts.

To see Kalyn's take on this dish, click here: http://kalynskitchen.blogspot.com/2009/06/kalyns-kitchen-picks-bel-gioioso-fresh.html. To check out Penzeys, click here: http://www.penzeys.com/

To read more about basil, try this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basil.

Pass 500 Posts, Get New Template

The last time I posted something, I noted that I had passed the 500-post mark. Do I really have that much to say? Apparently.

It was time for a new template. In my spare time this weekend, I have scoured the Internet for ideas and backgrounds, only to find today that Blogger actually has a new advanced template design system. So after much trial and error, I have found a look I can live with for another 3.5 years.

I started blogging when food blogs were hot and growing. But a year later, I took a new job that limited my time in the kitchen. Now, nearly three years into that job, it's time to start cooking again.

Just under a year ago, I learned what I had suspected off and on for several years: I have a wheat allergy.  It was not difficult to eliminate most sources of wheat from my diet, but then I have not traveled to France in over a year, and I suspect it will be a true challenge on our next visit. Luckily - or unluckily - the earliest that visit is likely to occur is next fall, as my husband may be facing surgery later in the year. We'll see.

(The older I get, the more patient I become. Which is odd, because I have less time left to me.)

So I continue to eat low on the food chain, and follow a mix of the South Beach and Mediterranean diets. I have not had a major stomach flare up in a while, and I have more energy (except when I lose an hour of sleep because of springing forward.)

Tomorrow I will write out my check for this year's CSA bounty. Because it's been a mild couple of weeks here in Wisconsin, I can now walk outdoors daily.

I love spring. I've been eating a lot of seafood lately and many salads.

And the kitchen beckons. Life is good.

A Good Book on a Sunny Sunday

Recovering from my third cold in a year, I am thinking that perhaps there is a message amidst the gravelly voice and sneezes: Slow down.

I have little control of my Monday-Friday life, but weekends are mine. On this weekend, I rested and read, fully engaged in a coming-of-age novel set in Ireland and England. The Irish can tell a story.

Some books are so good - but sadly, only a small "some" - that they command you to set everything else aside for a weekend. You delve into them with such fervor and also with a sense of calm, too, for they "gentle" you and draw you into another place. You feel quite happy to be curled up with them, while the laundry waits and the dishes remain undone.

Having written for a living (though perhaps not well, I have had flashes of what I thought might be brilliance), I am picky in my reading material. It is a rare book that gives me a feeling of contentment.

When I find such a book, I am simply happy to read. Those times are rare, and therefore, memorable.

When I was in college, I house sat and cat sat for a professor in a charming little 1920s-era neighborhood not far from campus. One Easter Sunday when the professor was away for a conference, I started such an engrossing book in the morning, and read most of the day, pausing only for a late afternoon bus trip to the campus Catholic center for Mass. The sense of well-being stayed with me all day, and was as much a result of a good book as it was to the service, held at sunset with lambent light firing the sanctuary.

We celebrate food, we celebrate the seasons and nature and the goodness of friends and neighbors. Why not celebrate a good story well told?

The photo was taken along the shore near the east end of town. It has been mild and sunny here, and only the ice, a remnant of our freeze-and-thaw winter, is left.

Is this relief or merely false spring?