for love. and peanut butter pie.

over six years ago,

we were visiting colleen and christian

when i got the kind of call you

never want to get. not ever.

and not in the house of your

friend's boyfriend, no matter how wonderful

they are. it was my mother,

telling me that my ex-boyfriend - the

ex-boyfriend, who i dated for six years,

starting one month into our freshman

year of college - had died. we hadn't

spoken since one month after our

break up. to me - to everyone - the horrible

accident came out of nowhere.

had we still been a couple, i'm not

sure how i would have managed. if i'm being

honest, i still don't think i've fully recovered.

from that phone call.

from his accident.

from knowing that even though we would never have

been remembering together anymore,

i am now the only one who can know our memories.

--

to say that i was an immense worrier before

his death, would be fair. i have always been

fearful of things large and small.

but after that, everything was elevated.

i dream about him, about trying to stop him from

stepping into an elevator or leaving the room.

when i wake up, i panic for my family.

when i haven't heard from or can't reach

my mom,

my dad,

my sisters,

my grandmother,

larry,

i hate myself for it, but i obsess over the worst.

i hate myself for allowing myself to think things

that are not doing anyone any good.

my mind is set to catastrophe.

--

on monday morning,

the first thing that i saw were three

tweets, in a row, with the message that

a food blogger had lost her husband

unexpectedly to a heart attack the day before.

i follow jennifer perillo on twitter.

i read her blog.

i've known her as an active member of food52.

the closest i've ever been to her, was making

her homemade manicotti for larry last winter.

but, when i saw the tweet, i was unable to focus

on anything else. i drove to work shaken and

all day my mind wandered back to jennie and

her two daughters. when larry got home from work,

i tried to tell him what happened

and shocked both of us

when i started crying uncontrollably.

when i calmed, i hugged him. hard.

then, i told him about jennie and her

two young daughters and how we really don't

know each other, but through her tweets,

i knew about her date nights and that i've

been meaning to try her lentil-ricotta meatballs

and that the hardest thing for me - and i've come

to find out, others - to see, was that her last tweet

before she lost her husband, was about canning

marinara and getting ready for their vacation

to cape cod in 13 days. i felt for jennie in a way

that i did not know i could feel for someone

who i did not personally know.

jennie posted last week,

talking about her husband in a way i believe

few of us would have the courage to do. and,

in a time when i think many of us who know

her peripherally, felt helpless, jennie asked for

us to make her husband, mikey's, favorite dessert,

a peanut butter pie, on friday, to honor

him and those who we love the most in our lives.

and, so i did.

i made the recipe exactly as it was

written. i tried not to sweat it when my crust

crumbled a little into the melted chocolate

layer, knowing that was not the point. the point

was that even on friday, five days later, jennie, her

husband and her daughters were still on the forefront

of my mind and, because, my family was even closer. i

made it for the people who i love and have loved.

and, i served it to my family tonight.

i told them the story of our dessert and

about the hundreds of food bloggers who came together

to make peanut butter pies for our families, and in

our hearts, for a family who many of us do not know.

as we ate, i showed them this video

that has brought me to tears each

time i've watched it. and, we talked about showing

the people that you love, that you love them, always.

--

for the pie recipe, to see more about the

amazing food community that rallied or

to learn more about jennifer's strength,

visit in jennie's kitchen.

pear and hazelnut crostada

so, i'm back.

and, with one of my favorite

desserts:

a pear crostada that

has successfully served

several thanksgivings.

every year,

after i've had my first bite,

i think, why don't i make

this at the first sign

of fall, when pears are popping

up left and right at the markets?

the answer is simple:

i really don't make desserts

without an occasion.

but if i was the type of person

who decided on a sunday

to just make a pie or tart

to enjoy after dinner,

this would be the one that

i would turn to,

time and time again.

because, without a doubt,

this is my kind of dessert.

reason 1: it's fruit based.

if given the choice,

i will almost always pick a

fruity sweet - something with

apples, plums, peaches,

blueberries, strawberries,

bananas, pineapples -

over a chocolate concoction.

make it an in season,

peak of their prime fruit,

like juicy pears,

and you don't even have to ask.

just cut me a sliver.

reason number 2: it has a crust.

maybe because it took me so

long to feel comfortable making

pie crusts or maybe it's just because

pastry crusts are

buttery, tender and lovely,

but i just think there is something

incredibly special about

pies, tarts

and their flaky bases.

unless you're offering me carrot cake, too,

i'll take the pie, please.

reason number 3: hazelnuts.

i never really understood the power

of these buttery fragrant nuts

until i started making

larry's birthday cake.

but then, i was hooked. once

toasted and husked, they offer

an unparalleled element to sweet

and savory preparations. here,

they get double time to shine:

first, they're ground with flour

to form the base in the crust,

then whirled in the food processor

with butter and brown sugar

to make the crumb topping.

reason number 4: it's a crostada.

ok, if i'm being honest, this is

probably what drew me to the

recipe. when i first printed it out,

years ago, i had finally come to

terms with the fact that it is not

that hard to throw ingredients

in a food processor to make a crust.

but, my rolling, transferring and

pressing prettily into a pie pan skills?

still shaky. a crostada, in which

i could roll the dough out into

as close to a circle as i could get

it, pile it high with pears and then

fold over the edges, this way

and that, was right up my alley.

read: it's forgiving.

reason number 5: it can be made in steps.

well, i don't live with my mom anymore,

but that's where we celebrate thanksgiving.

even though this fall beauty is rustic,

i still think it's a little fragile -

i'd rather not bake, then transport.

(although, probably, that's my own paranoia.)

i love that i can show up

at my mom's house with:

a disk of dough that is still chilled after

an over an hour in the car, a container of

buttery hazelnut crumbs for the top,

three ripe pears and a tiny plastic bag

of flour and sugar to later mix with

those pears. oh, and there's usually

an orange rolling pin sticking

out of my bag, too, but a bottle of wine

would work just as well.

still not convinced?

well, let me tell you a couple other

things. this is the kind of crostada

that makes people tell you how good

it smells in the house before they're

even fully inside. it's the type of

crostada, that i think actually looks fun

to make - so much so that almost every

year, one of my sisters helps roll

the dough, fold the edges

or adds the crumbs on top.

and, most importantly, it's the type of

crostada that makes everyone at my

mom's thanksgiving table take a slice:

from someone who always thinks

they are too full to even come back to the table,

to a chocoholic, to another who doesn't

even eat dessert. ever.

and that, i think, is enough of a reason right there.

pear and hazelnut crostada

adapted from bon appetit magazine

over the years, i've done everything from making the piecrust and crumb topping over the weekend and freezing them until wednesday night, to just making them both thursday morning and chilling until i leave to go to my mom's. they both work just fine. oh, and if you're really on your game, give yourself a head start by toasting and husking the hazelnuts the night before. directions are here.

i should note that the one difficulty i've had with this recipe is the baking time. it instructs 400˚f in the bottom third of the oven for 40 minutes, then 12 more after that. i've never even made it to the extra 12. in fact, 40 minutes seems too long. next year, i am absolutely baking this in the center of the oven for 30 minutes and then checking to prevent it from getting too brown. (in fact, this time, i took it out after about only 26 minutes of baking and it was already darker than i would have liked it.) below, however, i'm including the directions from the original recipe. enjoy it - oh, and pick up some vanilla ice cream, too.

topping

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

2/3 cup hazelnuts, toasted and husked

5 tablespoons packed golden brown sugar

3 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cubed

pinch of salt

in bowl of food processor, combine all ingredients; blend 1 minute, or until clumps form. transfer to small bowl or container; chill until needed. no need to clean the food processor between steps.

crust

1 cup all-purpose flour

2/3 cup bread flour

1/3 cup hazelnuts, toasted and husked

3 tablespoons packed golden brown sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

9 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cubed

2-3 tablespoons ice water

in bowl of food processor, combine all-purpose flour, bread flour, hazelnuts, sugar and salt; blend 30 seconds to 1 minute, or until hazelnuts are finely chopped. add butter and pulse, just until coarse meal forms. with motor running, drizzle in 2 tablespoons ice water and process just until a ball of dough forms, adding more water, a teaspoon at a time, if necessary. transfer dough to work surface and form until a ball; flatten into a disk. wrap in plastic wrap and chill at least 30 minutes.

when you're ready to bake. heat oven to 400˚f. place dough between two sheets of parchment paper and roll dough to a 13-inch round (or as close to a round as you can get), lifting paper, smoothing wrinkles and turning as needed. remove and discard top piece of parchment paper. transfer bottom piece of parchment paper with dough to a large unrimmed baking sheet.

filling

1 3/4 pounds ripe bartlett pears, peeled, quartered, cored and thinly sliced

1/3 cup sugar

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

in medium bowl, gently combine pears, sugar and flour.

place pear mixture in center of dough, mounding high and leaving a 2-inch border. using parchment paper as an aid, if necessary, fold dough over pears, pleating loosely and pinching to seal any cracks.

sprinkle hazelnut topping over pears (it will seem like a lot, but still, put it all on there). bake 40 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown. (start checking it after about 20 minutes to make sure it doesn't burn.) tent very loosely with foil to prevent over-browning and bake until juices bubble thickly, about 12 minutes more. transfer baking sheet to rack; cool completely or just until warm. slide large spatula under crust to free from parchment and transfer to a platter (note: my mom and i transfer it every year using three large spatulas and finger-crossing.)

thanksgiving - one week later

i kind of hate the fact

that it has been so long

since my last post. and really,

there's no good excuse, except

that over the past

two weeks i've been sick,

with two separate illnesses -

neither dire, but both enough

to pin me to the couch

for several days at a time.

and most of fall at my

job is spent preparing

for the week of thanksgiving.

but it's been too long.

so while i'm gathering the

strength to tell you about

the dessert i make every

thanksgiving (but can also

be made all fall and winter

long), here is some of our

food from last thursday.

the dining room table, with only about half the food on it.

my mom's stuffing, which she makes every year. it is a very basic, no-frills side dish with nothing more than soft onions to chew on, but we love it and thanksgiving would not be the same without it. so, she makes it, but every year - in effort to turn us to a different dish, she tries her hand at a new one. this year...

...it was taken from the food52 contest for best stuffing. my mom made the challah, mushroom and celery from mrs. wheelbarrow's kitchen. she added roast chestnuts and it was lovely.

rosemary and brown butter applesauce via codfish and caviar, via bon appetit magazine. i was skeptical about this recipe, but still, i wanted to make it. i'm so glad i did. it is truly a savory and unique applesauce that will not be found on every table.

blair's sweet potatoes. blair has made this dish for as long as both of us can remember. it is a traditional sweet potato casserole, with pineapples. this year, she added a crumb topping, along with the marshmallows.

wine...well needed to help me unwind from the week i had had. unfortunately, i was very tired and i don't even think i finished my one glass.

still, we had port with dessert.

this is another dish from the it's-been-at-every-thanksgiving files. my mom has been making her bourbon pecan pie for forever. i have distinct memories of one bottle of bourbon sitting on the top shelf, pulled down only once a year to make this pie.

business trip breakdown

the night before

i "suggest" that he just

skip the trip.

they'll understand, i say.

he suggests back, that he 

can, but probably,

as a result,

could lose his job.

he gives me the option.

i say he should go.

day 1

he leaves at four in the 

morning. 

after work that night,

i go out to dinner

with friends,

at sushi lounge in hoboken.

i get my favorite spicy scallop roll.

at home, i watch 13 going on 30,

fall asleep with the tv

on and honestly, rather enjoy the day.

day 2

i have a hard day at work. 

i planned to cook for jenn, but

cannot get myself near the kitchen.

we go out for dinner and laugh

the whole time. somehow, 

it took us hours to eat what

it took others an hour to enjoy.

the lights turn off while we're still

cooking our noodles.

i realize, at the end of the meal

that i never opened the diet coke

i had asked for,

and to my surprise,

came in a can. 

i toss it in my pocketbook.

day 3

i wake up determined to cook

jenn breakfast. i peruse all

my cookbooks, checking

off each item that i didn't have:

spinach,

ricotta,

berries,

cheddar,

tomatoes.

sadly, the list goes on.

i leave jenn with a plateful

of concord and muscat grapes

and decide to make goat cheese

frittatas. they are a disaster.

my new mini pans smell like they're

burning. the eggs, are, in fact,

burning. i dump them in the

garbage and feel inadequate.

later, that night,

i wait with my father for 

my sister and her boyfriend

to return from cancun.

we get a text that says,

how's asia star for dinner? 

totally craving sushi.

so we go.

here, i have my other favorite roll:

snow white, which is white tuna over spicy yellow tail.

i don't speak to larry until after nine.

it's been hours since i've

started worrying that something

unspeakable has happened.

he's fine. just working.

day 4

i wake up and i have no 

idea where i am.

i realize that i'm in my 

sister's bed and have actually

slept until after 10, shocking

on many levels.

my sister and father and

i visit what about a bagel?

and i have delicious

whitefish salad on a flagel.

i remember how much i 

like whitefish salad.

later, my mom and i discuss

salts, and the merits

of different kinds,

for at least 10 minutes.

my sister looks...bored.

when larry calls after 5,

i'm grumpy for no reason 

and am not up for

talking. when he calls

back at 7:30, before going

to dinner, i feel guilty

and try to be a better

conversationalist.

i think about watching

the amazing race,

but it doesn't seem right

without him.

that night i cannot sleep.

day 5

i have a normal day at

work. when i drive

home,

it's pouring. 

i drive carefully,

and make the 

decision to just sort of

sit and not do anything.

it's hard.

i'm bored.

i'm tired of his

business trip.

day 6

i have a very weird

day at work, accompanied

by an odd schedule.

i find myself without

anything to do from 12:30-4.

i run errands and then realize

there is not enough time

to go home before

i have to go back to work.

i buy magazines and head

to mitsuwa, excitedly.

i order, what is deemed,

a side dish of 

rice,

crab flakes

and 

ikura

for lunch.

it is $2.95.

i'm in heaven.

then i realize i didn't 

get a drink.

in a rare moment of clarity,

i reach into my bag,

and pull out the 

can of diet coke from friday night.

i read food and wine and

stop for an extra second

at the sweet potato and andouille pie,

wondering why some recipes

just immediately suck me in and

others take a long time

to seem like a good idea.

at 11:15 that evening, i'm driving home from

work. it's raining again.

i'm very tired.

and i realize, i miss larry a lot.

i'm ready for him to come

home, for us to hang out

and for this going away

business to be done,

at least until june,

when he's headed for berlin.

once home, i cannot sleep.

i watch all of american

idol and housewives of new york

city. i hate kelly. i realize

that i really want to make larry something

to welcome him home, something

that i would never normally make,

something that is very obviously,

just for him.

i remember the extravagant savory

sweet potato pie and know that it

will be his welcome home meal. 

i have a plan. i can sleep.

day 7

i drive home from work in the rain.

once i get there, i learn that i didn't 

actually have cornmeal for the crust

like i thought i did. 

it's pouring now.

i decide that this pie will 

have to be made in my standard pie shell.

but i'm bummed.

i roast the sweet potato. 

the recipe had called

for several small, 

but i, 

not paying attention,

had bought one 1-pounder. 

after 45 minutes,

it's still hard as a rock. 

i up the temp to 400˚f

and cook the sucker for 30 minutes more.

then, i have to wait a long time for 

it to cool.

in the meantime,

i mix together the crust, chill it, roll it out

and realize that it is so hot in the kitchen,

there is no way for the finished

product to be tender and flaky.

i chill the dough, in the pie plate

for 30 minutes,

before filling with dried beans 

and baking.

i remove the plate from the oven

to cool and

a little piece breaks off (not ideal).

i taste it and am glad for the extra

chilling. the texture is perfect.

somehow, it is now late. 

i'm sleepy.

i debate stopping at this point

and preparing the filling

the next night, but i realize

how much i would regret it 

in the morning. 

i make the mixture, which

is ridiculously easy (and to me,

ridiculously indulgent)

and at 10:34,

place the pie in the oven.

as i'm putting it on the rack,

i think, this looks like 

melted velveeta cheese.

when it comes out of the oven,

4o minutes later,

i think, this looks like

cooked velveeta cheese.

i leave it out to cool.

3 in the morning, i am woken up

from the couch by larry,

home almost 7 days to the hour

after he left.

i stumble to wrap the pie

and

put it in 

the fridge.

the next day

i am disappointed to realize

the store doesn't have mustard

greens that i wanted to make the 

accompianing salad.

i buy kale instead.

i get home and the house smells

delicious, like a spicy

simmering marinara sauce.

did you cook, i ask?

yes!

we argue for a few minutes

over whose meal we will eat,

both of us advocating for the 

others person's dish.

we decide on his because he 

added shrimp to his sauce.

a minute later, we learn

that not only did we both make

dinner, we also both

ran the dishwasher that morning.

the next next day

i go to a different store

that has mustard greens.

i'm excited.

we heat up the pie

and i toss together a very

easy simple salad

of mustard greens, apple

and toasted pecans in a 

homemade buttermilk dressing.

the pie, thank goodness,

does not taste anything like

velveeta.

the crust is incredibly flaky,

the filling so smooth

and creamy and the dots

of andouille, spicy,

but not overwhelming.

the soft supper is perfectly

balanced by the crisp cool

salad.

we eat dinner in our pajamas,

sharing a bottle of beer

and

watch the yankee game.

sweet potato and andouille pie

adapted from food and wine magazine

the original piecrust called for cornmeal, which i think would have been delicious. i used my traditional crust, which i've provided the recipe for here. if you're one of those freaky people (like me) who tastes the raw dough, don't be alarmed if the crust tastes overly salty, it will even out by the time it's baked. also, i used turkey and chicken andouille instead of the traditional pork. i think it worked out well. other than that, i obeyed the recipe pretty well. i very, very much wanted to reduce the cream to whole milk, or at least half and half, but i was very worried that it would break in the oven.

1 pound sweet potatoes, scrubbed and pierced with a fork

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon sugar

10 tablespoons unsalted butter, chopped and chilled until ready to use

2-3 tablespoons ice cold water

3 links chicken-turkey andouille sausage (about 9 ounces), chopped

1 small onion, peeled and finely chopped

2 large cloves garlic, peeled and chopped

1/2 teaspoon ground sage

1 cup heavy cream

fresh ground pepper

3 large egg yolks

heat oven to 400˚f. wrap sweet potato in aluminum foil and roast potato 1 hour, or until tender. unwrap and let cool. 

reduce oven temperature to 350˚f.

meanwhile, in food processor, combine flour, salt, sugar and butter; pulse just until pebble-like pieces form. with motor running, drizzle in 2 tablespoons ice water; process just until mixture comes together. if you feel the mixture needs a bit more liquid, drip in a drop at a time. remove dough from mixer and flatten into a disk; wrap in plastic wrap and chill 30 minutes. on floured surface, using rolling pin, rolling out dough into 13" round; transfer dough to pie plate by rolling dough around rolling pin and unrolling in plate. gently press dough firmly into plate. tuck overhang under. at this point, if you feel it is very warm in your kitchen or the dough has gotten too warm, place pie plate in fridge and chill 30 minutes more.

prick bottom crust several times with fork. cover dough with foil; fill with dry beans. bake 30 minutes or until crust is barely set. remove foil and dry beans. bake 10 minutes more, or until the crust is dry and very lightly brown. let cool.

in large skillet coated with cooking spray over medium-high heat, cook andouille 5 minutes, or until golden brown, stirring occassionally. add onion, garlic and dried sage; cook 5 minutes more, or until softened. let cool slightly.

peel sweet potato; place in food processor. add cream and puree until very smooth. season with salt and pepper. add egg yolks and process until incorporated. transfer the filling to a large bowl and stir in andouille mixture. transfer to crust, smoothing top. bake 45 minutes, or until the filling is set (this took me 40 minutes). let cool on rack 20 minutes; cut and serve. you can also make it ahead, cool completely, cover and chill in the fridge. reheat in oven.

mustard greens with apple, pecans and buttermilk dressing

adapted from food and wine magazine

the recipe that runs in food and wine features watercress, but mentions the donald link, the original creator of the recipe for his new orleans' restaurants, uses mustard greens. i am a huge fan of the spicy green, much more so than watercress, so i jumped at the chance. if you're not a fan of the leaves, try it with watercress or even romaine. i added toasted pecans and played with the proportions of the dressing, which in the end, i was glad about. it's extremely light - and gives the greens a very light coating. if you like your salad very dressed, i would make more of the dressing.

1/2 cup low-fat buttermilk

1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar

1 pinch sugar

kosher salt

black pepper

2 tablespoons corn oil

1 bunch mustard greens (about 10 ounces)

1 large granny smith apple, cut into matchsticks

1/4 cup pecans, broken into large pieces and toasted

in small bowl, whisk together buttermilk, vinegar, sugar, salt and pepper; drizzle in corn oil, whisking constantly. 

stem mustard greens; tear leaves into bite-size pieces. combine greens with apples and pecans; drizzle with dressing and toss to combine just before serving.