Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Recipe X Talks - Guest Blog - Louisa Edwards

Old LOve ( old format) New LOve (new format)

I want to thank you for tuning in to my week of I call them RecipeX Talks with some of the most interesting and fun loving tweep peeps I have had the pleasure of forging a friendship with !!

I want to introduce you to an extremely Talented writer and beautiful person Louisa Edwards who is exploring the the human condition through romance and food...a girl after my own heart

Thank you , thank sooo much. I so appreciate your involvement.



We all know what “romantic” is. I mean, I watch movies. I see commercials. I read romances. “Romantic” is

roses and champagne, dinner by candlelight. Right? Maybe a strolling violinist and a diamond or two.

Well, sure. Of course that stuff is romantic! But it’s not the only definition of “romance.” Romance can be unexpected; it can shock you to your toes, make you laugh, make you cry—and sometimes, it can take your relationship to a whole new level the way an unexpectedly fresh romance novel can up your reading experience.

Plenty of romance novelists do the wine and roses thing, but I like to think my Recipe for Love culinary romance series is rooted in my own expansive view of what qualifies as “romantic.”

A case in point: When my husband, then my boyfriend of one year, and I were in college, he lived off campus. That apartment was teeny, way too small for entertaining; the kitchen was about the size of a bathroom stall. Still, we decided to throw a party for New Year’s. And instead of getting a few boxes of wine and some plastic cups, maybe a couple bags of chips, we hauled out my
stash of cookbooks and started poring through them, looking for the perfect cocktail party

Eventually, we decided on a theme: A New Orleans New Year, based on my husband’s love of Cajun food. Armed with Paul Prudhomme’s classic Louisiana Kitchen,
we planned our menu: popcorn shrimp with remoulade, oysters en brochette with dirty rice, and the main event—a Cajun prime rib, rubbed with spices, roasted in the oven then blackened
on the stovetop.

We had no idea what we were getting into.

I’ve never run around so frantically in my life as I did the day of our big party. We’d invited all our friends, told them to dress up, bring wine, etc. With only a couple of burners to share between us and barely room to walk past each other in that kitchen, we were really scrambling as the clock ticked down to zero hour.
Finally, we had the prime rib in the oven,
the popcorn shrimp sizzling
away, and our friends arriving to fortify us with Cabernet. We were exhausted, but we weren’t done yet! The oven timer dinged—the prime rib was ready to be blackened.

Blackening is a Cajun cooking technique that involves searing spiced meat in a cast-iron skillet over very high heat. The spices caramelize and form a delicious, smoky crust that keeps the meat juicy and tender inside. It’s fabulous…but the billowing clouds of thick, stinging smoke? Not a great byproduct, especially in a poorly ventilated, closet-sized kitchen.

I thought my husband was going to die. Or at least lose a lung! I certainly thought he’d give up. But no. Coughing and covering his nose with his shirt collar, he opened the back door onto our two-foot concrete balcony, letting in frigid air, and then he turned back to the stove and kept going. He had to squint to see through the smoke—seriously, you wouldn’t believe how much there was—and the spices irritated his eyes so that he had a constant stream of tears running down his cheeks, but the man would not quit. We had a fabulous menu, our guests were waiting, and he was not giving in. We were going to make this wonderful meal and have a great time if it killed him.

That was the moment I realized exactly how much I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this man.

Different romantic evenings suit different couples. After all, what is it that makes the candlelit dinner, complete with violinist, so special? On a basic level, it’s the time and effort that went into arranging it, the sense that our partner appreciates us and wants to give us an experience we’ll remember our whole lives. When my husband put his head down and doggedly kept cooking, I knew he was someone I could count on. And when we sliced into our unbelievably succulent prime rib that night, our friends perched around the living room, I knew it was only the first of many wonderful evenings full of laughter, love, and culinary adventures.

So what’s your most unexpectedly romantic evening? Or the best romantic scene from your favorite romance novel?

Tell me your stories, and you could win a copy of my new Recipe for Love novel, On the Steamy Side, along with a farmer’s tote and a signature Recipe for Love spatula and apron set.

Gram’s Crab Dip
This is one of the few recipes I have from my father’s side of the family, and I’ve always loved its simplicity and big flavor. It’s a fantastic party recipe, and is always a huge hit!

1 can jumbo lump crab meat, well picked over for pieces of shell
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
Dash Worcestershire sauce
Garlic salt to taste
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 small package slivered almonds (4-6 oz)
Mix all ingredients together and bake at 350 degrees F. for about 15 minutes, until bubbly. Serve hot with chips or crackers. Enjoy!

Monday, April 5, 2010

Recipe X Talks - Ponet

Old LOve ( old format) New LOve (new format)

I want to thank you for tuning in to my week of I call them RecipeX Talks with some of the most interesting and fun loving tweep peeps I have had the pleasure of forging a friendship with !!

sexy \’sek-se\ adj
1: sexually suggestive or stimulating : EROTIC 2: generally attractive or interesting: APPEALING
spring \spring\, v
1. to rise or move suddenly and lightly as by some inherent power 2. to fly back or away in escaping from a forced position, as by resilient or elastic force or from the action of a spring 3. to arise by growth from a seed or germ, bulb, root, etc.; grow, as plant 5. Slang. to remove (someone) from prison

I want to introduce you Ponet a beautiful Woman of Creative / Substance and passion for Life.

Thanks for participating and sharing much appreciation !!



The Invitation reads:

Twenty Special Guests
Natural light only.
Just bring your smile…
The magic has been provided.

The Menu

Appetizer/Asparagus in a blanket
“Endless Glasses”/2007 Castle Rock
Grilled Applewood Salmon
Spicy Baked Sweet Potato Fries
Indian Pound Cake
Mi Vida Mocha

As soon as the door opens, it’s there…

Flash The aroma of fresh baked appetizers Asparagus in a blanket lead us to the place where the unfamiliar, becomes very familiar… Paramount bathrooms

Hugs, introductions, and reintroductions fill the space quickly, as quiet excitement looms the room, for we all desire to know one another.
Glasses of Pinot .... click here
is passed around, easing the mood even more so. The flow is good, and the laughter reaches full guffaws. The host is what genius is made of. Just enough to satiate the palate, while the allure of what’s to come keeps our curiosity stirring.

We’re asked to leave our glasses behind, as we move into the dining area.

Assigned seating decides our fortune. Carefully chosen (we’re told), not by a secret matchmaker, but by our true personalities. When you sit next to me, the energy between us is undeniable. I was hoping it was you…

Beautifully displayed the food is a great compliment of both spice and texture. Sweet Potato Fries

And yet, we haven’t said a word to each other… We smile, we toast to nothing. But, the delicate clinking of our glasses spark thoughts already unspoken.

“One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter.”
James Earl Jones

I can feel your eyes politely outline my profile. I smile, and turn as if to question your action, but you’re prepared. “Do you remember me??. At the hockey game, in Atlanta? George’ wedding in California??” I smile a moment before answering. “I remember you, too”. You hold your napkin to your thigh, and then wipe your mouth just a little. “I stayed in Los Angeles that weekend… I wanted to be there for the opening of your play”, you said. My breath deepens. Desperate to hide both my surprise, and delight. We’ve stopped eating. “Did you enjoy the play?” I hope. “Um, yeah… I mean, I guess. I just wondered why the little girl had to die”. You rest your chin in your left hand. It’s obvious; this should have been posed as a question... “You mean, commit suicide?”

The patio doors swing open,

Our faces are intense, and he wants to dive in. Do I hold back? Now that he wants to go beyond the light and social exchanges of the evening? Towering over me like a gentle giant, he holds his hand out, and embraces mine tightly. We’re more than holding hands. It’s more than just wanting to be in a space within my mind… He dares to feel me.

He pushes aside one dessert, and one cup, and decides for the both of us, that we’ll share. Feeding him feels right. Sipping from the same cup too. Light titters remind us that we’re sharing our space with others, but the impulse infuses us, and we show them all what to really do with the background music.

Lost into each other’s touch, and smile, we drown out the banter of the crowd that enjoys the exchange as much as we do. When the music stops, our smiles refuse to listen. We graciously accept the applause, as well as the night ending. You immediately state, “I put both of our name cards in my pocket… So, that we can exchange phone numbers”. As if returning to the beginning, we formally shake hands, like the distant strangers we were, and I watch you leave. You never look back. That was a year ago today.

I just received your card in the mail, and I admit the flood of emotions overwhelmed me. I recalled all the messages that were missed, exchanged, and somehow just didn’t connect. I’ve received every floral arrangement, and even dried some of them to save. I heard you became part of a team of accountants with The Atlanta Hawks.
The phone calls became fewer and fewer between us, and the flowers stopped too.

But today, you’ve sent the name card, and the song we danced to that evening.
“I’ve realized that I need you… It’s rare to find someone that can possibly love you for who you are, rather than for what you do. I truly believe that’s you”.

It’s the best enclosure I’ve ever received, although it’s still one I will pass. My heart has moved on to the reality of time and space between us, and I’m only left with romanticizing that evening of what could have been.

“The Play… Her death was a rebirth for adults that carry the bruised little girl within. I’m very proud of you, and I wish you well… All the best, me”. I turn the card over, seal the envelope, and thank the mail carrier for waiting. He replied, “I’ve enjoyed watching you smile”. This lets me know that I’ve done the right thing.

I close the door, and reach for the poem I wrote, but never sent.

Across the miles
Can you feel my love
For you?

Do you hear my voice?
In the wind
Whispering how much I
Need you?

When my heart beats rapidly
At the thought
Of your touch...
Does your blood flow faster?

As I embrace your picture
To my breasts
Can you feel the fire?
In my body touch your

I've seen you
I've watched you
I've read you

Across the miles
Will you ever know?
My love?

Grilled Applewood Salmon

Salmon Filet
Applewood Seasoning
Olive Oil
Medium Apples
Cinnamon Sugar

Place Salmon on a medium heated grill or in a 350-degree oven on a jelly roll pan. Brush with Olive Oil and sprinkle liberally with Applewood Seasoning.

Tent salmon with foil and cook approximately 10-15 minutes or until desired doneness. Do not turn Salmon while cooking. While it cooks, peel and slice the apples and put in a stovetop pan with butter and cook 1-2 minutes then add the cinnamon sugar and cook until it melts into a sauce.
The sweetness of the apples blends well with the smoky flavor of the salmon.

Indian Pound Cake

8 eggs
The weight of 8 eggs in sugar (1 lb–454 g)
The weight of 6 eggs in very fine cornmeal (corn flour) (12.5 oz.–354 g) + a little extra for the pan
1/2 lb (2 sticks–227 g) butter
1 pinch salt
1 whole nutmeg or 1 tsp (2.3 g) ground cinnamon
Preheat the oven to 325°F (170°C). Generously butter a 5.4 x 9.1-inches loaf pan (13.6 x 23.2 cm), then sprinkle with corn flour, shaking off excess. Lining the pan with aluminum foil (buttered and floured as well) makes it easier to unmold the cake.
Grate the nutmeg, if using it, then mix it with the sugar. Pulverize the sugar mixed with nutmeg in a food processor or coffee grinder. If you use cinnamon instead mix it with the pulverized sugar at this point.
Cream the butter, then gradually add the powdered, flavored sugar to the creamed butter and beat until fluffy. Add the eggs two at a time alternating with the corn flour (to which you have added the salt). Add the corn flour to the butter mixture through a fine sifter. Make sure to scrape the sides of the bowl with a spatula once in a while to mix everything properly. Beat the mixture on high speed until light and creamy, for at least 7 minutes.
Delicately pour the mixture into the prepared pan and bake for about 1 hour–a cake tester must come out clean. If the top browns too quickly, lightly cover with a piece of aluminum foil.
Let the cake cool in the pan placed on a rack for about 10 minutes, then take it out of the pan and let it finish cooling on the rack. It will be fragile while still hot.
The cake should be made 1 day ahead to be at its best. It stays moist and fresh for a few days if kept wrapped in aluminum foil, and its flavor improves.
Notes: It is important for achieving the right texture to use very fine corn flour, not fine corn meal, which is still too gritty. If you don’t find corn flour, you can process fine cornmeal in the food processor. Also pulverizing the granulated sugar is essential as well as it is sifting the flour while you add it to the batter.
The oven temperature must be no more than 325 °F (170° C), or the cake will develop a hard brown crust too soon and remain raw in the center.
Miss Leslie indicated only nutmeg and cinnamon as flavorings, but I also tried with anise, lemon zest and almond extract and all work well.

From the original recipe by A Lady of Philadelphia (Eliza Leslie)
In “Seventy-Five Receipts, for Pastry, Cakes, And Sweetmeats” 1828 –USA

www.javerde.com Mi Vida Mocha (Chocolate Flavored Coffee)

By Ponet, 2010

Renewal !! 2 .0 - a New recipe 4 romance

This is a exciting week here in my kitchen of epicurus romantic adventure !!

I will have a series of Guest bloggers off and on this week ...some pretty cool tweeps and peeps so come back and check it out !! I am also designing and probably moving over to wordpress pretty soon...so stay tuned !!

SO I am underconstruction ...till further notice...perhaps tomorrow or maybe not !! :)