I will admit, I get a little overzealous when making mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving. I always seem to think that each person is going to eat the equivalent of their arm’s weight. I practically do. Allow me to digress for just a moment to explain how much I really like this tuber.

When I was about four my parents took my brother and I to a steakhouse. I barely touched my steak, but proceeded to eat everyone’s large baked Russet potato. All four. Every bit. I was in heaven. Truly, I would have traded my favorite doll for them. It may have been my first encounter with a dressed up tater, I don’t know, but ever since that night I apparently have “an exaggerated sense of what a normal potato portion should be.” I’ve heard that more than once. Clearly I believe the body:potato ratio is much greater than most people would believe it to be. Whatever. Needless to say, we have a crock-pot full of mashed potatoes leftover.

Amateurs.

They sure did come in handy though, along with the other leftovers, when we assembled this delicious Lamb Shepherd’s Pie.

We didn’t use a recipe for this dish as it was a hodgepodge of things in the fridge. First, we ground up our leftover lamb with my new favorite toy: our KitchenAid food grinder attachment (I’m grinding up everything!). Then, we sautéed that with a bit of red wine, garlic and onions.

In an soufflé dish we started layering: lamb first, then carrots, peas, some of Tracy’s corn pudding (a coarser this time as she added more polenta), some sautéed Chanterelle mushrooms, and topped it all with a healthy layer of mashed potatoes. We finished it by sprinkling the top with some of our favorite new black lava flake and set it in the oven to warm and brown.

Possibly Related Posts:

• Friday Fun Links
• Young Winos
• The 2,000 Pound Rib Feast
• Kabocha and Ginger Squash Soup
• How I Slaughtered a Chicken

A few weeks ago we drove out to Walla Walla to do a little early spring release wine tasting. At one beautiful winery, Abeja, we were blown over by the fine wines as well as the food offered at their autumn celebration. Chef Pascal Sauton from Portland, Oregon’s Carafe Bistro prepared a dish so delectable we returned the following day for another tasting (well, five actually). The small plate that had the four of us nearly begging for more was the Lamb Spare Ribs with Kabocha Squash Puree and Hibbits Ranch Walnut Pesto. <Gasp!> Allow me a moment to compose myself…

It was a tender, fatty (oh yes, you want this fat) section of rib that had been slow roasted until the meat was falling off the bone, served atop a subtly sweet puree of kabocha (a Japanese pumpkin), then drizzled with a delicious earthy walnut pesto.

Thank.God.I.Eat.Meat!! Pure Heaven, I tell you, pure Heaven.

I’m sure I can’t do justice to Chef Sauton, but I’m going to do my darndest and try to whip this up at home.

Lamb Spare Ribs, Kabocha Puree & Walnut Pesto

Lamb ribs, cut into thirds (about 3″ in length)
1 kabocha squash
Olive oil
Fresh parsley, chopped
Raw walnuts
Walnut oil
Salt and pepper to taste
*optional: crushed garlic and lemon zest

Slow roast the ribs until meat starts to pull away from the bone.

To make the kabocha puree: Cut the kabocha into 2 inch pieces, remove seeds. Place onto a baking sheet, sprinkle with salt and pepper and drizzle with olive oil. Roast for 40-60 minutes in a 400 degree oven or until tender. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly. Once cool enough to touch remove outer green skin and place in a food processor. Puree the squash mixture until smooth.

To make the walnut pesto: Roast walnuts in a 350 degree oven until golden, turning frequently. Pulse in a food processor until in small pieces, but careful not to create a paste. Add chopped parsley, drizzle in walnut oil and pulse until a medium-moist consistency is reached. You don’t want it too pasty or too dry. For added flavor toss in some crushed garlic and lemon zest.

Serve ribs on top on the puree and spoon the pesto over the top. You will not be disappointed.

Possibly Related Posts:

• The Great Stuffing Debate!
• Wine from Scratch: Wine in the Kitchen
• Kabocha and Ginger Squash Soup
• Tonight Chef and Mixologist Kathy Casey at Nightschool
• How I Slaughtered a Chicken

It’s Easter Sunday, and as I write this I sit aboard my dad’s 1958 Beechcraft Bonanza bound for Puerto Vallarta, Mexico via Phoenix, James Taylor singing in my ears. The beautiful clear skies that surround us conjure up memories of past Easter Sundays.

My very first memory, in fact, is of Easter Sunday 1970 and I was 23 months old. I remember it as clearly as yesterday. My little pale pink knit dress with tiny pastel flowers (I still have it), my itty bitty white leather shoes, and I think I actually remember wearing diapers, although I may be making that up. My memory begins on our patio in Lafayette, California, my tan Easter basket in hand. I was beyond excited. I can see a magenta egg in a wine barrel flower planter and I run toward it. I see another under a bush, another right there in the seam of the concrete patio. Then I remember my older brother, then four and a half, crying his eyes out because I found more eggs. So I put some in his basket to even it out. It really was an unfair advantage when I think about. I mean, little girlie girl placed amongst a bunch of brightly colored eggs. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance. If mom had hid little green Army men he would have whupped my butt hands down.

I looked forward to Easter and I counted down the days when I was a child. (I still do! You’re never too old for an Easter basket, right?!) I was enamored with the little silver, blue, pink and pale green foil-wrapped chocolate eggs. As a child my mom always included a sugar egg, the kind with the little peep window with the baby chicks inside. I never ate it (well, maybe a lick here and there) I just peered inside at those little chicks. Do they still make those today? I also loved Robin’s Eggs, the tiny pretty colored hard candies. And, the malted chocolate covered eggs. Another favorite part of Easter was eating the Deviled Eggs made from our findings. I loved how the whites were always stained blue, pink and whatever other Paas coloring with which we used to dye them.

As an adult what I most look forward to is Easter Dinner. The planning, the preparation and the sharing with loved ones. My Easter menu is fairly simple:

Lamb: a rack or beautiful butterflied leg, perhaps marinated in balsamic or rubbed with lots of garlic and fresh rosemary.

Potatoes: the bit of Irish in me needs them! Nice creamy scalloped potatoes or a gallette.

Salad: baby greens, maybe toasted pecans and grapefruit supremes with a simple vinaigrette.

And, finally, Easter Bread. What’s better than a sweet, warm braided loaf right out of the oven?

Note: We encountered technically difficulties in Mexico (hard to believe, I know!) so I was unable to publish this on Easter Sunday.

Possibly Related Posts:

• More Than You Want to Know About Cranberry Sauce
• The Most Disgusting Thanksgiving Dishes
• Friday Fun Links
• What Celebrity Chefs Are Making for Thanksgiving
• Beer for Thanksgiving

I love all types of books. I guess you could classify me as a voracious reader. I also tend to buy books faster than I can read them (darn you, Amazon.com 1-Click!). There is one type of book, however, that I consistently, almost obsessively, purchase and almost never read – cookbooks. I’m addicted to them: their beautiful glossy pages, perfectly stylized photographs of succulent creations, dishes I’d love to be able to whip up after a long day at the office and look as though nary a sweat was broken. But, alas, I’m a flipper. I tend to only turn each page slowly and sigh, knowing the only pleasure I will ever produce from the book is the thought that maybe someday…

My tennis coach used to tell me, “If you want to become a better tennis player then play with someone better than you.” So today I thought, “Yes, I will start to cook with cooks better than me!” I will bring those beautiful cookbooks down from their shelves, crack open their formerly only-once-or-twice-cracked spines and commence the next level of my education. Not that I’m a bad cook, by any means, I simply want to broaden my culinary horizons. Greatly. So tonight I have decided on Alice Water’s Long- Cooked Lamb Shoulder. Except I’m going to change it to Sheri’s Short-Cooked Lamb Shoulder and do it in the pressure cooker, because really, we do work during the day. But I promise I’ll adhere to the rest of the recipe.

Possibly Related Posts:

• Tonight Chef and Mixologist Kathy Casey at Nightschool
• How I Slaughtered a Chicken
• Moose, it’s What’s for Dinner
• Waiting by the River at Dawn
• Vegan Soul Kitchen