Cheers! The 2010 Cookbook is Ready!

Another New Year. Crazy, huh?

I’m sitting here in front of the fire, putting the last touches on this year’s cookbook, and I feel like I can taste the future. Paul is sitting across from me glaring at his laptop. Ringo is sleeping nearby. And save for the clicking of computer keys and Ringo’s snoring, the house is dead silent. The boys and my mother-in-law, you see, are spending this Christmas break in California with Paul’s brother and his family. Paul and I are, for the first time ever, spending a week alone, without working, in our house.

I won’t go telling you how lonely we are without the guys here. We are, in fact, having a pretty excellent time. The only moment when I start feeling a little weird is when I step into my kitchen. Absent are the telltale pretzel trails left by hungry boys. Absent are the muffins or cookies I’ve baked and placed under the cake dome for them. Absent is that familiar voice in my head telling me to start preparing dinner. Absent are the aromas, the din, the taste of family.

I remember my mother-in-law telling me how she stopped cooking big meals when her kids left the nest. And how she stopped cooking all together when her husband Bernie passed away. I nodded my head as if I understood, confident in my belief that I’d never retire my apron. This week, however, gives me pause. I’m astonished by how quickly I abandoned my kitchen once the boys no longer depended on my being there.

I certainly hope I won’t lose my obsessive love for making all things edible. The kitchen still is the first place I head when I finish work or find a spare hour in my life. It’s the one spot where I can be creative, loving, industrious, nostalgic, somewhat girlie, and blissfully distracted, all at the same time. It will be pretty hard coming up with another endeavor that can give that scorecard a run for the money.

For now, though, I’ll go ahead and take the rest of the week off. There are so many things Paul and I want to do. And so much to think and talk about at the end of yet another year. Ben is a high school freshman and now owns his own razor. Noah is in his first year of middle school and is surgically attached to his cell phone. Yes, we tangle with them over everyday teenager stuff, but a short step back always reminds me how lucky we are to have such smart, affectionate, and hilarious young men in our lives. The grandparents are all well, my brother and his family are in Belize at this very moment, and my sister and her family are off living in Greece for the year. Good stuff for the most part, though I must admit I miss my sis.

I hope this year has been good to you. If it hasn’t, I hope the coming year brings better things. Thanks for following or occasionally reading the blog. If you ever have ideas or suggestions you'd like to share, I'm all ears. If you would like me to email you a copy of this year's cookbook, shoot me an email at pegsrosen@gmail.com and I'll send it your way. Cheers.

P.S. The additions to this year’s cookbook are:

Canal House Scallion Meatballs (turkey)

Easy Cheezy Cheese Straws

Rosemary Currant Pecan Crisps

Thai-Spiced Butternut Squash Soup

Sexy Summer Fig, Mozzarella, and Prosciutto Salad

Pat’s Smoked Salmon and Potato Salad

Velvet Asparagus Pesto

Savior Ass Chicken

Asbury Park Lamb Burgers

Ina’s Panko-Crusted Salmon

Peanut Butter Milk Chocolate Chippers

Ina’s Insane Pecan Squares

Pretty Darned Good Apricot Passover Kugel

Flash Back Cheese Blintzes

Holy Grail Coffee Crumb Cake

Leapin' Lizards! It's the New York Reptile Expo

Right this second, grab your phone and see if you've got anything going on Sunday, November 28. If not, and you live in the New York area, have I got a kooky family outing idea for you.

It's the New York Reptile Expo out at the Westchester County Center in White Plains. I know. You don't want a pet iguana. And reptiles aren't exactly cuddly cute little critters that make darling little children like yours swoon. So why on earth would you schlepp the family out to White Plains to look at hundreds of these scaly things, for Pete's sake? I was wondering the same thing when my friend Leila Loring--a fellow mom of boys--swore to me that the Freundlich clan would dig it big time. "No purchase necessary! You can just go and look!" swore Leila...though she admitted she did come home with a four-foot lizard that proceeded to terrorize her household. No doubt, I was about as interested in that prospect as I was about about having more frequent colonoscopies. But there was something alluring about having something somewhat amusing to do on a gray November Sunday, when it's too darned cold to run around outside, most Fall sports are done for the season, and my kids are hooked up to the Playstation as if they're on life support.


So, on the day of the big show, I packed up my extremely perplexed family and hauled them out to White Plains. What we walked into was an alternate universe--a place where latter-day Eves in tight jeans and suede booties swooned over slippery snakes that were longer than my own torso. Where children begged mommy to buy them pets that looked, essentially, like fish with legs. Where food stands didn't dish up hot dogs and hamburgers, but zip-lok bags full of frozen rats and mice.


Truth be told, the kids--and especially my husband Paul--were at first horrified. When Ben spotted the expo model wrapped in nothing more than skanty lingerie and a boa constrictor, I thought he was going to have a stroke. I was, however, smitten with the whole scene right from the start. I couldn't help eavesdropping on handholding couples as they strolled from one stand of creepy critters to the next as nonchalantly as if they were perusing sweaters at Bloomingdales. When I actually started to chat up vendors and shoppers, I was utterly hooked. "This one is a real mush. I hang him from my swing set and he swings along with the kids," gushed one burly guy, as he showed me a snake he had hidden in his backpack. "This one is the love of my life," said one middle-aged blonde as she flashed a snapshot at a vendor. "I couldn't bring myself to bury him when he died so I paid a taxidermist to stuff him. He's hanging in my apartment now." Part zoo, part sideshow, part anthropology expedition...how could anyone NOT love this place!


By the time I rounded up the rest of the Freundlichs, Paul was pretty pale. Ben wanted to get the model's phone number (just kidding). And Noah was begging, pleading, insisting upon getting a painted dragon. We left, thankfully, reptile free. And by the time we got home, Noah's sudden, desperate need for a pet reptile was easily supplanted by our fuzzy, cuddly decidedly nonreptilian dog Ringo. Next year, I fear, we might not be so lucky.

Wanna Go? Need to Know:
When to Go: The next New York Reptile Expo is Sunday, November 28, from 10 AM-4 PM. If you miss that date (or just can't get enough), there are additional NY shows in April, July, and September. The Expo also travels to New England and Long Island. Log on at http://www.reptileexpo.com/ for locations, dates, and further 411.


Getting There: If you're coming from the Montclair, NJ area, you can take the Garden State Parkway North to the exit for 287 East. Cross the Tappan Zee Bridge and proceed from there. This is a pretty trafficky drive so be prepared. I think it took us over an hour. Click here for specifics: www.reptileexpo/nydir.htm


What to Bring: An agreement in writing (just kidding, well, kind of) as to why you are going (sightseeing, pet shopping) and what you intend to bring home (nifty memories, scary lizards, lacerations). Bring lots and lots of antibacterial gel for your hands. Other bringalongs: Camera. Smelling salts.


Costs/Services: Admission charge is $10 per adult, $4 for kids 7-12, kids under 7 are free. There may very well be more than rats for snacks at the Expo but, I dunno, do you really want to eat in a giant reptile house? We pit-stopped at a diner on the way in.

Fear Factor: Shoppers are allowed, to some extent, to handle the reptiles. I guess you or your child could get bitten or strangled. At the very least you could get a nice case of salmonella. As you can see from the photos, I did get up close and personal. What can I say, it's as close as I'll come to living dangerously at this point in my life. Do what feels right for you.

Belize Part III: Luxe Lodge, Hidden Bargain

Last post left you at Lamanai Outpost, a jungly river retreat adjacent to the ancient Lamanai ruins in Belize. Up Next: Three nights at Chaa Creek, a "wildly civilized" nature lodge located in the cooler, mountainous Cayo District further to the south. Here's the scoop:

Getting There: You can shell out big bucks (and pop a few sedatives) if you want to puddle jump it to the tiny airport near Chaa Creek. We played it safe and cheap with a return boat trip down river and a van back to Belize International, where we were easily handed off to our Chaa Creek driver. From there, it was a two-hour drive to the mountainous south, a clearly more prosperous region, replete with horse and cattle ranches. The last couple of miles along a jangly dirt road led us finally to the lodge.

The Spot: Chaa Creek's got that whole "cushy wilderness resort thang" down: Neatly pressed staff trade cool drinks for dust-covered luggage when guests arrive. Artful thatch-roofed cottages nestle among riotous blooms. Stone, iguana-dotted paths lead to civilized perks like a freestanding spa, butterfly garden, and a breezy white tablecloth restaurant. And yep, there's a drop-dead gorgeous infinity pool, flanked by canopied massage tables and crisply clad chaise lounges.

Before you go rolling your eyes, let me tell you what makes this place truly likeable--and downright doable--even for us non-investment bankers: First, as gorgeous and extravagant as it is, Chaa Creek happens to also be a pioneer in sustainable eco-tourism. The owners--an American and a Brit--are long-time champions of the cause and stick by their commitment, creatively recycling waste on property and milling much of their own furniture with the help of local labor. So if you choose to indulge, you can actually feel good about being there.

Second...and this is my favorite part: While staying at the main resort is a kick-ass awesome experience for sure, there's a far-less-publicized, and more affordable alternative just a 10-minute walk down/up river along a well-groomed trail. Called Macal River Camp, it's basically 10 treehouse-like casitas clustered around an immaculate central bathhouse, convivial bonfire pit, and a rustic Belizean dining room. Since Macal River Camp is owned by the Chaa Creek folks, guests who stay there get to take take advantage of the resort's amazing amenities...for a fraction of what the fancy folks are paying. Granted, this option ain't for everyone. We didn't stay there because my workaholic husband puts up with my crazy camping stuff all year long and I knew he craved some comfort (and just a bit of privacy) on this go round. But if you're open to a more communal, close-to-nature experience--and want a lovely home-base in the Cayo region--Macal might be a fantastic option for you. I personally would have preferred staying at Macal because the vibe was so much hipper and friendlier than at the main resort. And, as you know, I'm just soooo hip and friendly.

The Digs: Rooms at the main resort are ripped straight from Conde Nast Traveler. Cool stucco walls, clay tile floors, double-sheeted queen and king beds, handwoven textiles, and a huge bathroom with an array of eco-friendly unguents are standard. Our digs even had a separate, landscaped outdoor shower. (Great for late-night hi-jinx when you're sharing digs with kids). Flower petals sprinkled around the bathroom and towels twisted into swan shapes on the bed had me looking around for errant honeymooners. Not that I'm complaining but it did feel a little bizarre sharing our tropical sin bin with two adolescent boys.

As for Macal--don't imagine muddy pup tents at some skeevy KOA campground. These are permanent structures, simply but prettily appointed with colorfully covered single beds (some casitas accommodate 4), private hammocked porches, and screened windows. What they don't have is plumbing, electricity (guests use kerosene lamps), Four-Seasons-caliber mattresses, or glass on the windows (any romance has to be low key here). If I had a "camp" like this in Lake George, I'd stay there year round.

Action Plan: Chaa Creek's 365-acre private nature preserve is there for you to explore and enjoy in numerous ways, mostly for no additional charge. There are guided hikes, medicine walks, canoes to paddle down the river, bird watching tours, horses to ride, mountain bikes to borrow (good luck...the trails are so vicous I ended up walking mine the entire way), and a butterfly garden and natural history center worth checking out. The really serious planning takes place each night, when guests take turns sitting down with the very official white-garbed concierge to sign up for the off-site excursions. This is where you spend real money (some trips cost as much as $100 or more per person), but this is also where it's truly worth it. We opted for a half day at the nearby ruins of Xunantunich, a half-day canoe paddle into stalactite/stalagmite riddled Barton Creek Cave, and the full-day Actun Tunichil Muknal adventure, which took us on an hours-long cave hike through waist-high water to ancient Maya sacrifice grounds. Truly, one of the all-time nutsiest adventures we've had as a family. There's also ziplining at a nearby resort (which seemed like a touristy knock off of Costa Rica); cave tubing; an excursion to Tikal in Guatemala, and more. Truly, if I could only call one place in Belize home base, Chaa Creek would be it. There really is THAT much to do.

Grub: Chaa Creek, like many upscale properties in Belize, did a diligent job of serving up the kind of fare that high-ticket travelers might want. There's just something about eating braised lamb shanks and creamy fettucini when I'm in the middle of Belize....at a wilderness lodge...that doesn't work for me. I crave local food. And therein, I'm guessing, lies the rub. Belizean food, while tasty, is pretty simple and can get monotonous. It always seems to be some type of stewed meat or poultry and rice and beans. And I guess high-end hotels don't think their guests want that. We, however, preferred simple and local and thus took most of our meals at Macal River Camp, where traditional food and local beer are served up as a matter of course and guests are happy to devour it.

The 411: Three nights at Chaa Creek was about all we could afford, time-wise and money-wise. But given our druthers, we might have stayed a little longer. The semi-all-inclusive high season package rate for our cottage, which had two double beds and a day bed, ran about $ 215 per adult per night; $55 for each child. Another option is to pay a flat nightly room rate of $300 (which includes breakfast); order box lunches from Chaa Creek ($12/pp) or pick up lunch in town en route to your excursion; and eat dinner ($12/pp) at Macal River Camp. Rates at the main resort decline considerably after May 1 and Chaa Creek also offers affordable packages. Transfers from Belize International to the resort are $ 150 for 1-4 people. At Macal River Camp, the charge is $55 per adult, including breakfast and dinner. Kids under 6 no charge; 6-11, $ 12.41; and 12-18, $ 24.63. That's right. What a deal. Could make a camper out of the best of us, huh? For info and rezzies go to www.ChaaCreek.com

Getaway on the Lagoon: Belize Part II

As promised in my last post--which detailed WHY Belize is such an easy and amazing family adventure--I'm giving you the lowdown on the three great places we stayed during our trip.

Here's the scoop from the first leg, which took us from Belize International Airport up to a far flung lodge on the New River:

Lamanai Outpost:

Getting There: A driver was waiting for us when we arrived at the Belize International Airport, quickly whisked us into his van, and drove us about an hour to a jungly but tidy landing on the New River. A way cool--and kid-pleasingly fast-- little motor boat then snaked us up the river for about an hour to the Outpost.

The Spot: Directly adjacent to the lush Lamanai ruins, Lamanai Outpost truly feels like an Outpost. About 20 thatch-roofed cabins crouch among the palms, overlooking an enormous, lake-size lagoon and acres of rustically tended plantings. Paths lacing the property lead to a beautiful open-air pavillion, where down-to-earth guests hang at the bar, eat meals, and sign up for daily activities.

Our Digs: Our woodsy cabin--hewn from local materials-- struck that perfect balance between comfort and rusticity: No A/C, TV, or shiny tiles, but good linens on the bed, screened and louvered windows, a stylish yet lowkey bathroom, and our own private little porch with chairs for reading. The coolest amenity: A troop of howler monkeys who inhabited the overhead canopy of trees. Waking at sunrise to their insane, gutteral shrieks rates as one of the most mystical and hilarious experiences we've had together.

Action Plan: Each day, we could sign up for two activities--which was generally enough to keep us busy and provide some time to just hang out at the cabin or swim and sun off the river dock. These included sunrise canoeing (think birds, birds, birds) and spotlight safaris on land or on water (think bats, scorpions, crocs). We toured the neighboring Lamanai Maya ruins in the early morning with a guide who knew just how to engage the guys and how to avoid the daily cruise ship crowds. We zipped out on an airboat in the pitch black (the guys were blown away by how cool these things are) and helped preservationists tag baby crocodiles. We took a guided "medicine walk," and learned about trees and plants that traditional Belizeans use to treat everything from anemia to athlete's foot. One afternoon, our guide walked with us into the nearby village, where the guys helped the cooks at a small restaurant grind hominy and make chicken tamales --I think the simple, Belizean meal we had there was the best we had on the trip.

Grub: Since there ain't that much else around, guests generally eat all their meals under the gorgeous thatch canopy of the central lodge. The food is okay--beats me why they're serving up heavy, American style meals in the middle of the tropics. But the waitpeople are all very accommodating and the kitchen is pretty good about whipping up something to placate picky kids and health-conscious parents.

The 411: Three nights at the lodge was plenty for us. After that, you might have to start repeating daily activities. But hey...if you like just chillin' at a remote river outpost, you might want to stay longer. All-inclusive rates--which even cover transport from and to the airport--start at about $260 per adult/$80 per kid from December--mid-April. The beauty part: From mid-April -December, those numbers drop to $149 per adult/$55 per child. A Screamin' Deal we happily took advantage during the kids' spring break. The weather was perfect. And yes, there's Internet in the main lodge. For rezzies and more go to www.lamanai.com. Or email me and ask!

Itching for an Easy Adventure? Think Belize.

Not to put another thing on your plate. But just in case you're hoping to take a vacation this year, now's the time to start planning, or at least dreaming. Here's my pitch: Go Belize. I know a zillion people might already have told you about it. I know there's press up the wazoo about what a trendy Green destination it is. I've just gotta say, though, that after taking a two-year hiatus from big ticket travel, this trip was not only just what the doctor ordered last Spring. It was probably the best trip we've taken as a family. Here's why:

1. Logistics are stupid simple. Hop an easy flight to Belize City with a switch in Houston or Dallas (in many cases). Then let those smarty-pants Belizeans take it from there....the resorts work together, picking you up at the airport and getting you back to the next resort driver for the coming leg of your trip. This isn't hoidy-toidy chaffeur stuff...just a smart strategy to get timid tourists off the beach and inland to explore (and spend money in) the rest of the country. To top it off: There's no significant time difference, English is the official language and American dollars are accepted just about everywere. Truly an adventure vacation that doesn't leave you needing a vacation.

2. Belizeans actually seem happy to see us. Call me neurotic, but it's nice traveling to a place where people don't want you dead. Plus, although Belize is relatively poor, the country--unlike many Caribbean islands--has an economy that extends beyond tourism, so you don't have that feeling that everything is hinging on you and your Tourist Dollar. Plus, the tourism economy itself is being developed in a relatively environmentally and culturally responsible way. In short: You don't feel guilty vacationing here. You might actually feel like you're doing something good.

3. There's plenty to keep culture vultures happy. Archaeological ruins, along with excellent, government-licensed guides, are everywhere. Bonus: Unlike a number of other ancient sites, many of these are in lush jungle, so you're not burning up under the blazing sun. If you're really hot on ruins, Tikal (in Guatemala) is an easy day trip from Belize's popular Cayo region.

4. There's outdoor adventure up the wazoo. Sure, you've heard about the diving and snorkeling. But inland is a wonderland, too: We canoed through pitch-black caves used by the ancients for human sacrifice (the skeletons are still there); we zipped off on airboats into the night and helped preservationists capture and tag crocodiles; we woke at dawn to the screech of howler monkeys congregating over our cabin; we hung out with a brigade of bat researchers at our lodge at Lamanai and actually hung with the bats, too. Who needs Disney's thrill rides when real thrills await?

5. The country is compact. You really can get a taste of everything without getting all "planes, trains, and automobiles" about it. We spent three nights at a far flung river outpost in the jungle, three nights in the mountains and three nights on the beach near the second largest reef on earth. Not for even a minute did we feel rushed, overwhelmed or harried. You can also hole up at one spot, do some day excursions and be perfectly happy.

6. There are amazing and affordable places to stay. Belize has its share of budget and backpacky accommodations. But it also has a wealth of gorgeous, comfortable and unique resorts that meld beautifully with their surrounding culture and ecosystems. These places aren't cheap by any shot of the imagination. But many, if not most, offer packages that include excursions, activities and meals, which makes it easy to budget for your trip. All said and done, we spent less on this trip than we did on a 10-day vacation at the Basin Harbor Resort in Vermont two years ago. And it was a fabulous and and less costly alternative to the Galapagos trip we've long dreamed about but will likely never be able to afford.

Want details on where we stayed and what we did? Stay tuned for Part II, coming soon.

The Next Best Thing to Eating Naked

Blink and you'll miss it. I'm not talking about the state of my newly organized, freshly scoured, and flotsam-purged third-floor office. I'm talking about fig season. Fig season??? If the only word that comes to mind when you hear the word "fig" is "Newton," you're probably saying, "Big whoop Peg! I'd rather come take a look at your new filing system." 

But if you happen to be among the culinary cognscenti who understand just how luscious, unctuous, and utterly sensual a fresh mission fig can be on a late summer afternoon, you're nodding your head knowingly. You blush just thinking about how that velvet skin gives way to your gentle nibble, revealing wildly pink, honey-sweet flesh. Your heart beats just a little faster as you imagine the titillating crunch of tiny seeds, as the fig's heart slides satisfyingly over your palate and down your throat. You can feel yourself reaching for another tender orb, wanting, needing to experience it all again. And fast....since the magic time when figs arrive at the markets in late summer is over faster than a first kiss. (There's a crop in springtime, but I always miss it. And the summer crop supposedly ends in mid-October, but I am seldom able to find them so late.)

If you're not yet a fig fan, consider this your wake up call. Run out and hunt down whatever vendor is smart enough to sell them--your local greenmarket is a great option, my local King's also sells them for a royal ransom. Sure, you can rinse 'em and eat 'em just like that. But figs are so wondrous because of the way they make other foods sing. For breakfast, I chunk them up, fold them into thick Greek yogurt, and sit out on my deck pretending I'm in Santorini. Sliced, they are the star of the most sophisticated dessert in my repertoire: a fig-and-lemon mascarpone tart in a cornmeal rosemary crust. And notched at the top and drizzled with honey, fresh lemon juice and fruity olive oil, they are the cornerstone of an appetizer that guest after guest at my home--die-hard fig lovers and virgins alike--have variously raved about as "a salad that the best restaurants could charge big bucks for," "crazy, insanely delicious," and "so obscenely yummy it should be eaten in private." I still favor the name that came from its creator, Jamie Oliver: "The Easiest, Sexiest Salad in the World." It really is crazy simple. It showcases some of the best foodstuffs on the planet. And after you make it once, you needn't follow the recipe at all. Give it a try and I promise--you'll get lucky, even if you manage to keep your clothes on.

Fresh Fig, Mozzarella and Prosciutto Salad

6 ripe figs, black Mission preferable (not too ripe; you don't want them to be super mushy) 

6 slices of prosciutto (splurge on good di Parma or something similar--a little goes a long way and this recipe is so simple, it's all about the quality of the ingredients). 

1/2 pound fantastic mozzarella, torn into strips (I get mine from my local Italian grocer while it's still warm and practically pulsating; you can also do very well with a hunk of beautiful buffalo mozzarella. Just don't use that rubbery stuff from the supermarket.)

Healthy handful of green or purple basil

For the Honey and Lemon Juice Dressing

1 Tbsp good honey

6 Tbsps extra virgin olive oil

3 Tbsps lemon juice

salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Putting It All Together:

Cut a criss-cross in the tops of the figs, but not quite to the bottom, and then, using your thumb and forefinger, squeeze the base of the fig to reveal the inside.

Place the figs on a beautiful serving plate and weave the slices of prosciutto around and among the figs.  Intersperse this perty arrangement with strips of mozzarella and the ripped up basil. Drizzle honey, making sure each fig has some in the the middle, then sprinkle the olive oil, lemon juice, and salt and pepper over all. Or mix all the dressing ingredients together in a bowl and season, to taste, then drizzle everything with the honey-and-lemon-juice dressing. 

Go nuts.

Forget the old "Boil and Butter"...Get Those Artichokes on the Grill!

Just got back from my extended family's annual Lake George camping trip. If you know me just a little, you know that this excursion is a pretty kooky one, about which I've written, joked, grimaced, and reminisced relatively often. If you don't know me too well, basically imagine 11-15 Jerseyites (and ex-Jerseyites plus one pure-blood westerner) on a 1/2-mile long island in the middle of an Adirondack lake, with a couple of outhouses, a stone firepit, a handful of tents, and copious amounts of Deep Woods Off, sunblock, bacon and vodka---and you've basically got a picture of what life is like during the two family weeks we've spent there each summer over the past 52 years.

Now, up at the Lake, division of labor is serious business. My brother John is the wood, fire and fishing guy. My sister-in-law Julie is the only one kind enough to pay attention to the gaggle of mud-covered juveniles running wild around us. My sister Fred, our group's very own untouchable, cleans the outhouse. My parents worry about the weather and make cocktails. The kids haul buckets of water from the lake and chop kindling. And I have, over the years, taken over the role from my mom of grocery shopper (via boat) and cook. All of this makes for a pretty darned efficient and fight-free environment. Though I suspect we'd each be up sh&*t's creek if left on the island to survive on our own.

Anyway, people are always very curious about how I cook for 14 odd people for 14 days without the benefit of electricity or running water. More often than not, my friends muse about the gourmet feasts I must be able to innovate with nothing but an open fire and the great outdoors to inspire me. And my answer is the same: Food up at he Lake is basically calories. It provides energy so we can do all the other crap that needs to get done, like hauling wood, running up Black Mountain every morning, and chasing rattle snakes off the campsite.

Sure, my siblings and I went through a period where we tried to prove our parents wrong. We hauled up special spices and did our best Bobby Flay impressions. But after hours spent hovering over misbehaving flames, washing too many pots, and cowering in front of singed disasters (my pitch-black-but-raw country pork ribs come to mind), we've all arrived back at that sensible place that tells us to stick with what's easy, fast, and tasty. That means a pretty predictable rotation of steak, burgers, spaghetti, tacos, and iceberg lettuce salads.

There have been some notable additions over the years, however...dishes where the finished product exceeds the sum of its very few parts and still manages to get us out from under the kitchen tarp in a jiff. Case in point: My brother John's recipe for grilled artichokes, which he imported to the island two summers ago. I swear to you, once I tasted artichokes from the grill, I haven't once considered returning to my boiling ways and never even entertain the idea of dipping those delicious leaves in butter. Certainly, you can tackle this dish over an open fire like we do up at the Lake. But it's easier (and better for your complexion) if done on your tame little backyard grill. Give these a try. And let me know what you think.

John's Grilled Artichokes

Artichokes (figure on 1 per person; nice, fresh ones generally feel heavy for their size, sport tightly packed leaves, and have plump, non-shriveled stems)

Salt and Pepper
Exra Virgin Olive Oil
Fresh Squeezed Lemon Juice

Put a large cauldron of water on to boil or, if a you're a steamer-type of person, set up a steamer large enough to accomodate your artichokes.

While the water heats, prepare the artichokes. If you've never wrestled with these critters before, be brave. I'll walk you through it....the pictures here should help. First, give them a wash. Next, use a sturdy pair of scissors to clip the tips off of the bigger, visible leaves. Once the outer leaves are de-tipped, you'll have the delicate inner leaves sticking up from the center in a point. Use a sturdy knife to just whack off the whole pointy cone and discard what you've cut off. Finally, cut the bottom off the stem (if your artichokes still have theirs). This part of the artichoke, especially if it's a big artichoke, is pretty tasty, sort a continuation of the heart. Sometimes, though, they can be a little bitter. Just put them aside later if they are.

Now, once your water is boiling, drop the artichokes into the boiling water or put them in to steam for 15 minutes. While they are cooking, spray your grill with some Pam so the artichokes won't stick later and THEN heat up the grill. If you have one of those veggie grates that you can lay on top of your grill grate, go ahead and use it. No reason not to play it safe. As for how high to heat the grill? I'm not exactly picky about the setting since, as mentioned, I'm usually doing this over an eyebrow-singing fire. I'd say a medium fire is fine.

After about 15 minutes of boiling or steaming, your artichokes should be almost, but not completely, cooked. It's important not to overcook them at this point because they will fall apart on the fire. And if you undercook them, the heart may still be hard when you take them off the grill. The goal is for a knife or cooking fork to be able to pierce through the artichoke with just a little resistance.

Take your artichokes out from the cooking water and set them on a towel for a few minutes (go ahead and squeeze your lemons and wash your cooking pot while they cool. ) Now, use a sharp knife to cut each arichoke in half lengthwise. Once that's taken care of, your next job is to take out the hairy pokey stuff from the center. Here's how: Using that sharp knife, make a nice shallow smiley-face-shaped cut right along the line where the heart ends and the thistles begin (see picture. ) Then, use a melon baller, measuring spoon or plain old teasopoon to scoop out all the hairy stuff and tiny leaves above that cut line. No leaves that are too small and spiny to eat should be left.

Whew. Now that that's done, just brush the cut side of the artichokes with olive oil, and sprinkle them lovingly with salt and pepper. Lay them cut side up on the grill (close grill if you're not using an open fire) and cook for 10 minutes. Then flip them so they're cut side down and cook for another 5-10+ minutes, or until they are nice and crispy and and nut brown in spots.

Okay. Now lay these babies out on a platter. Drizzle with olive oil and lots of fresh lemon juice. Devour. Mmmmmmmmm.