Pasta with Tomato Sauce: My Favorite Marinara

I'm going to keep this post deliciously simple.  After all, those two words - delicious and simple - perfectly embody this pure, enriching and flavorful marinara.  Pantry staples blend seamlessly, creating the most wholesome of meals - pasta with tomato sauce.  If you've been following along, even just a bit, you will know by now that for me everything in the kitchen begins and ends with pasta.  My logo alone is a testament to that.  This sauce is spaghetti's little black dress; understated and undeniably right, particularly when paired with handmade pasta.  A sprinkle of parmesan and a shower of fresh basil and it is time for a classic dinner.  There's just nothing better.

Cornmeal Crusted Onion Rings

Onion rings - the oft overlooked cousin of the French fry.  A staple 'substitute' offering at many food establishments, this crunchy-sweet side-dish/appetizer/indulgent-snack deserves more credit than it receives.
I mean here we have an onion.  When left uncooked, they are pungent and tear-inducing, a pantry staple but not served raw save to garnish a sandwich.  However when they are bathed in buttermilk, blanketed in flour, spices and crispy cornmeal and fried to a golden brown, they become sweet and tender, absolutely pleasant and so pleasing it is impossible to stop with one ring.  And this breading is light, just barely clothing the onion, sliding up against it just so while still letting it be the star of the show.  The onion wears the breading here and isn't left lonely, sitting inside a cavernous fried shell as in alternative preparations.  This is my preferred style of onion ring and I adapted my recipe using Ina Garten's version as a base.  A little extra cornmeal and some of my go-to spices later, and the batter is taken up a notch.
An indulgent side-dish and welcome change of pace from the to-be-expected French fry, these onion rings hit the spot time and time again.  Enjoy!

Pink Paradise

I could try to make this cocktail overdrawn and complicated.  I could manifest a story of it's origin, some elaborate tale of how it was conceived.  In truth, the somewhat cheesily named 'Pink Paradise' cocktail was a thrown together concoction of what we had on hand both sitting out on our bar and the sole juice in the fridge.  After a final dash of classic bitters and a solid shake on ice, the palest of pretty pinks poured from our cocktail shaker into the glass.  I fell in love with the hue the campari lent to the drink as well as the complexity it brought to my tongue as I took my first sip.  The tang of the pineapple juice is the perfect match for the sharpness of the vodka, the tartness of this fruit counterbalancing the bitterness of the campari, an Italian apertif that has always been a favorite stand-by in our house.  It is the ideal drink for simple sipping and relaxation, by the pool or otherwise.  Our teaser clip is a testament to just how simple this cocktail is to create.  A toast to pink and a toast to paradise - both meet here, in perfect harmony.  Cheers!

48 Hours in Dallas

The Klyde Warren Park - aka the Deck Park - built over an old freeway in Uptown

I take a bite and am instantly transported to a campfire, deep in the woods.  We are dining on gently roasted potatoes and hen of the woods mushrooms, both of which have been soaking up the essence of a wood-fire for what must have been hours.  I am entranced by the texture, flavor and simple complexity of this food.  So much so that it takes a few moments for me to realize that I am not surrounded by thick, lush woods and a crackling fire, but rather sleek, straight-lined wooden tables and chairs, heat radiating from the open-air kitchen.  FT33 is buzzing.  A steady stream of conversation sails through the air, uninterrupted and smooth.  A Chef stands at marked attention at the pass, inspecting every plate before it is released to it's new owner, using needle-like tweezers to place delicate herbs and final garnishes atop the artful dishes.  FT33 is a new restaurant in Dallas's up-and-coming Design District and from the moment my brother Willie and I walked in the door I knew that this was a far cry from the Dallas that made up a great part of my childhood.  Willie has lived in Dallas for ten years now, settling into the Uptown district after graduating from SMU.  I hadn't been to Dallas in nearly three years and decided that a spontaneous venture to the lone-star state was long overdue.  The forty-eight hour trip proved to be a whirlwind as Willie took me on an invigorating tour of all things both classic and new in this famously 'big' city.  Throughout his ten years of residence, Willie has often commented that, while Dallas had everything, it lacked it's own identity.  It had seemingly defined itself by borrowing from cities throughout the US, bringing in a concept and blowing it up to ten-times the size, often with highly successful results.  The adage that 'everything is bigger in Texas' was beginning to take a different form, however, as Willie had begun to notice a sudden blossoming of Dallas-centric venues and destinations, places he couldn't find anywhere else.  Thus we set out to discover the 'new' Dallas: an artful, though-provoking and down-right delicious great American city.

Harvesting Ramps for Pasta with Carrot Purée

Being entirely new to both the world of hiking and the world of ramps, I wasn't sure what to expect when Z, Benton, Maggie and I set out on our mission to forage this fleeting wild onion.  We packed a picnic of fresh veggies and farmers-market bread, grabbed a chilled bottle of white and set out to find the ramps that grow at their own will throughout the fertile land of Foxhollow Farm.  When we made these plans I had envisioned wandering through the woods and turning a corner, a valley of onions appearing before us in neat little rows, smiling toward the sky.  As we made our way down the trail Maggie pointed out several signs confirming that spring was finally - finally! - here.  Miniature white flowers blooming, their petals no larger than a beetle, small wild greens set apart by varied shades of green.  "There's a ramp!" she said, gesturing toward a sprouting of kelly-green leaves, bunched in a way that reminded me of the base of a tulip.  It sat alone and bright, looking quite happy with it's independence and freedom.  The ramps began to pop up more frequently as we walked deeper into the woods, truly wild and of their own will.  We came upon a steep slope adjacent to a beautiful babbling creek and were presented with the valley I had dreamed of however completely without uniform.  We sat down amongst the ramps, the official first sign of spring, and popped the cork from our wine to drink and toast the new season amongst a field of one of it's most wonderful and delicious gifts.  We cleaned wild ramps and pilled them raw onto our bread.  A smear of goat cheese, some peppers and some pea greens made up one of the simplest and most delicious sandwiches I've ever experienced.  I knew ramps were of onion descent but there is a decidedly garlic undertone to their leaves.  They left my mind spinning, visions of recipes and potential pairings flying through my head.  Ramp pesto over pasta; ramp chimichurri ladled on a char-grilled skirt steak; ramps folded in with gently scrambled eggs.  Whatever the application, ramps lend a distinctive and refreshing quality to their fellow ingredients and we should take note and appreciate their power as they will not be with us for long.  Their life span is but a few short weeks and local restaurants covet them, the first jewels of spring.  
We watched the dogs fly through the woods, bounding over the ramps and finally coming to a crashing rest amongst the leafy greens.  We dug up a lions-share and set back toward home.  This was my first 'harvest' experience and I wasn't anticipating it to be so invigorating, so rewarding and refreshing.  I spent the following week sampling the ramps in the aforementioned applications, happy with the depth of flavor this garlicky onion gave to each dish.  It was my second go round with ramps with carrot purée and pasta that sealed the deal.  Farm fresh carrots are brightening every farmer's market booth right now, ramps sitting alongside.  I hope you'll take advantage of this wild treasure.  It is as farm-fresh as it gets. 

Nick relaxing in a sea of ramps

Curried Tuna Canapés with Apple and Avocado

Whenever I am experiencing 'recipe block' Z always comes up with the same suggestion: 'make your tuna sandwich - it's the best!'  As adorable as I find this sentiment (and as delicious as I find my tuna sandwich to be) it really is simply a tuna sandwich - a balanced blend of tuna, mayonnaise, kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper... and then a bit more mayonnaise... ummmm and maybe just a dollop more... it isn't culinary magic but it is one of my all-time favorite comfort foods and has been since I was little.  But while I could happily wax poetic about the merits of the simple tuna sandwich for hours, I found this lightly spiced variation studded with sweetly tart apples and topped with creamy avocado to be worthy of a foodie-girl post.  Inspired by a lunch we enjoyed in Exuma, I took a deep breath and dipped my toe in the wide and varied curry-universe.  It is a pronounced yet subdued flavor in these small bites, lending something special to the otherwise ordinary tuna and blossoming with each burst of juice from the apple.  Ideal for a spring get together yet easy enough for an afternoon snack, these canapés were the antidote to my 'recipe block.'  Thankfully, with warmer days upon us, post-worthy inspiration is in ample supply!

Simon's Point, Exuma, Bahamas

Morning as seen from the porch at Simon's Point

"You know in yoga class when they tell you to close your eyes and visualize the place where you feel the most at peace?  This is my place."  We are flying through the Bahamian waters, perched at the bow of the boat.  Maggie and I are clutching the one and only rail preventing us from flying into the ocean beneath, our legs dangling over the edge, goosebumps prickling across our skin as the water splashes at our feet.  Maggie has been coming to Exuma since the year she was born, the land, water and people of this island as familiar to her as anything she's ever known.  Exuma has forever been a constant, Simon's Point a second home for love, laughter and escape.  We touched down in Exuma after an easy two hour flight from Atlanta, immediately energized and rejuvenated by the sun.  The following five days were absolutely euphoric and entirely disconnected.  No televisions, no computers, no iPads.  Just the lively breeze blowing through our hair, reminding us to feel from within, to not be distracted by anything but our own thoughts.  Exuma is a place of pure, untethered bliss.  A place that is so, so hard to leave.