My parents visited this weekend, and I must admit that it was one of their best visits yet. On Friday evening after I picked up the boys from DC, we met my parents at the Ramada, formerly the Thunderbird, near the MOA, which played host to the Minnesota Decoy show. Collectors and carvers of decoys (duck, goose, fish) had assembled in a cramped meeting room to display their wares. Once your eyes adjusted to a room filled with middle-aged men dressed in plaid flannel shirts and vests sporting pockets for shells and game, you then had an opportunity to work your way through a minefield of decoys, most of which carried outrageous price tags (anywhere from a couple hundred to a few thousand dollars). I have no idea how one looks at a decoy and decides if the price is fair. I asked my father, and he said, "Collectors know."
After an hour with the DU crowd we headed to Fuddrucker's for large, impeccably cooked burgers. Seriously. I don't know how they maintain the "quality" control with the volume of cooking the kitchen does on a Friday night, but the burgers really are better than those served by many more upscale joints.
Saturday: The temperature was prohibitively cold. Reports vary, but it's safe to say that windchill was involved and that temps hovered around zero, at best. Instead of taking the boys to ski school, I made a big breakfast: Dorothy's grits souffle with lots of butter and cheese. John doctored up some thick-cut, hickory smoked bacon with a brown sugar/cayenne/black pepper concoction, which we then baked. And, since we had a bottle of sparkling wine kicking around from New Year's Eve, we enjoyed mimosas.
After breakfast, my mother and I braved the elements to do some shopping. First stop: The Bead Monkey where my mother scoured the store for unique beads (she has the singular goal of making a necklace to go with each of the outfits in her wardrobe). She treated me to a pendant crafted from a square piece of quartz with striations in purple, smoky brown, and clear. It's beautiful, and initially I thought I'd hang it from a black leather cord, but now I'm thinking I might also pick up a length of sheer brown ribbon for a more ethereal look.
Next stop: Coastal Seafoods, where I had a fishmonger help me select fishes for the evening's Mediterranean stew. And, I received a special treat. After inquiring about a particular fish—wahoo—the fishmonger asked if I liked raw fish, then gave me a sliver of this buttery fish from the tuna family, which pretty much melted in my mouth.
Then, we picked up Grandpa Ron, John, and the little boys and convoyed to Lakeville where we visited brother Nik. He was souping up a stock motorcycle and wanted to show it off to us. It's pretty awesome to see my baby brother happy and proud in his element. Finally, we drove from Lakeville to St. Louis Park—covering the far reaches of the Twin Cities in one fell swoop, on the coldest day of the year to make my inaugural visit to Trader Joe's.
I get the fuss about Trader Joe's, especially if one's diet is restricted to prepared foods or snacks. You can get any manner of wonderful seasoned nuts or chocolate-dipped items, including but not limited to sunflower seeds. You can also find frozen meals in bulk—lobster ravioli and other exotic pastas to name a few. But, the produce section is pathetic, and there's no meat counter. And, I think it would all be perfect for a student or if you were single. But, I don't think the chain's constituency is limited to students or singles. And, while it's fine to stop in for a special nibble—say for a party or to treat the office, which is what we do at Whole Foods—there's no way we could do our weekly shopping here.
The store was packed on a Saturday with cranky yuppies and grups, maybe because it was cold or impossible to find parking (this location has, seemingly, fewer than 50 spots). I also think the shopping experience is rancid because the store's shoppers are so very important and busy and they're all in a rush so they're always jostling past you, who are in the way. And, I'll likely never really get a bead on Joe's because I promised John I wouldn't insist we trek across the city to visit again. He might change his mind, though, after he tries the milk chocolate-dipped banana chips. The chocolate-covered pretzels were tasty enough (though not as good as Nestle's), but I can't stop eating the banana chips and I normally loathe banana chips, picking them out of granola and trail mixes when they deign to appear.
Once we arrived home, I spent the remainder of the afternoon cooking, blissfully. First I chopped the vegetables (celery, onions, carrots, garlic) and peeled the shrimp to make my own fish stock. When the vegetables and shrimp shells had browned in olive oil, I added white wine, water, tomato paste, and thyme sprigs, then simmered it all for an hour. As the mixture cooked, the flavors concentrated into an amazing crimson stock that looked, smelled, and tasted so much more substantial than the fish stock I've purchased from Coastal.
I set out a cutting board with Spanish cheeses—Mahon, drunken goat, Cabrales, and Manchego—and a log of saucisson sec, as well as a bottle of wine so that my "helpers" might fortify themselves while I prepped the ingredients for the fish stew. The recipe came from Ina Garten's
Barefoot Contessa. We've taken a lot of inspiration lately from her show and cookbooks this winter. She has converted a lot of traditional French dishes into uncomplicated, delicious recipes. We've made pork loin stuffed with fennel and onions; cauliflower gratin with gruyere; croque monsieur; and moules marinieres, to name a few.
This fish stew is a riff on bouillabaise. Diced potatoes, fennel, and onions were sauteed in olive oil for about 15 minutes; then saffron, two cups of good white wine (I happened to have an albarino in the fridge) and one quart of fish stock were added. After a short time, the fish went in. I used halibut and striped bass, as well as a pound of shrimp and 25 mussels, which then steamed for 15 minutes. Basically, in very little time we had this amazing, rich fish stew, which was a serious improvement over the one I made in June (from Nigel Slater's
Appetites). Rather than a riesling or a rose, which more traditionally accompany fish stew, my wine guy at Thomas Liquor recommended an Italian red—Solane Santi Valpolicella Classico '04, which turned out to be an all-around good wine.
For dessert, we made chocolate fondue, which, for a few weeks, the kids had been requesting. Strawberries, bananas, excellent sweet pears, and pound cake all found their way into semi-sweet chocolate chips melted into organic half-and-half. Amazingly, Winston ate little fondue. Even dipped in chocolate, my youngest, and most adventurous eater, will not let fruit pass his lips.
Needless to say, I fell asleep watching TV afterward.
