Three Base Hit-Caramelized Scallops, Pineapple Upside Down Cake, & Shortbread Cookies

What is with these sports metaphors? Anyway. Wow, three recipes in one day! We're picking up the pace. I actually only made two of them and George made the Shortbread Cookies. I'm counting it anyway, since I was there.

Harris-Teeter had sea scallops on sale for only half-a-fortune per pound. Good time to try the Caramelized Scallops. The recipe was pretty simple and the photo won my heart. I did take issue with the brining. The recipe called for 2 cups of kosher salt in 8 cups of water. That seemed excessive to me. Unless they were going to absorb all that liquid and blow up to the size of basketballs, I could not see why a dozen or so scallops would need that big a pool. They only brine for 10 minutes anyway or they get too salty. Maybe they get too salty because of the 2 cups of salt. I put them in a gallon size zipper bag and poured in about 2 cups of water with a couple tablespoons of kosher salt dissolved in it. I did drain them at exactly 10 minutes, though, because of my Cinderella complex. Patted them dry and seared them in clarified butter. They were delicious. They were tender and sweet and had a nice crunch from the sear. Three of us devoured the whole pound and a half along with roasted asparagus and wild rice and French rolls. The plates even looked beautiful.

I bought a pre-peeled and cored pineapple to try the Pineapple Upside Down Cake. I also bought a bottle of dark rum, because I remembered that the topping needed it. I couldn't remember how much I needed, so I bought a regular-sized bottle for $11.95. Good thing I erred on the side of caution. Turns out, I needed 1/2 teaspoon. An airline bottle would have sufficed. We'll figure out what to do with the rest of the rum, I'm sure. The topping recipe makes about 3 cakes worth of topping. So I have topping in the freezer for 2 more attempts. I artfully arranged the pineapple in the pan on top of the topping and then poured the batter on top. Actually the cake batter is pretty thick, so it was more smushing than pouring. It looked so pretty when it was done and inverted on the serving plate. After our scallops settled a bit, we each had a slab of cake with generous squirts of Redi-Whip. It was so good. Not too heavy and enough fruit to convince yourself that it wasn't all that bad for you. I mean, it's fruit. I will make it with canned from now on, though. The fresh was good, but not good enough to justify the extra expense. Also because of the large pieces, the fruit wasn't as uniform on the pieces of cake. Like with pizza, if you're not the server, somebody is getting some of your good stuff. I'm going to make the next one with canned pineapple tidbits.

George has become obsessed with finding a way to duplicate Lorna Doones. They are very overpriced, but we really like them with our tea. I pointed out the Shortbread Cookie recipe to him and he decided to give it a try. It's a pretty easy recipe. It's just got flour, sugar, butter, and vanilla in it. I admit I wasn't really thrilled with the idea, because I figured I would end up doing most of it. I was expecting lots of, "What do I do now?" I am very happy to report that he just ran with it. A question here and there, but no hands on participation required. I thought they were so delicious. Tender, crispy, buttery. George is not convinced they are close enough to Lorna Doones. So he wants to work on them some more. He's right, they aren't exactly like Lorna Doones. They have butter instead of God only knows what kind of shortening. They don't have chemicals and preservatives. Maybe I'll show him the ingredient label next time we're in the store and remind him that if we can't pronounce it, we shouldn't be eating it.

Chicken Potpie & Piecrust Dough

This was a curious choice for me. For one thing I don't like potpie. For another I don't usually eat pie crust. The only pie crust I've ever really liked is back when I used to make unbelievably good apple pie. I had a pie crust recipe that used only butter as the shortening. Then I lost the "touch". Pie crust, in my humble opinion, is one of those things you either have the touch or you don't. I had it and then lost it. Then I lost the recipe. When I saw the recipe for the pie crust and saw that it had only butter, I decided to see if I could make pie crust again. I had some cooked chicken left over and decided to try the potpie. I think of those disgusting little frozen things with that icky yellow gravy in them, when I think of potpie. Surely, this would be better. I mean, this is Thomas Keller, for heaven's sake.

This recipe took hours. I went into it thinking: throw some veggies and some chicken in a pie crust. Oh, no, no. Each veggie is cooked in a separate pan. The bechamel sauce takes a long time and lots of whisking. I kept mumbling, "This better be a damn good potpie."

The best part was making the crust. When it all started coming together, and I started the kneading, I knew. I've got it! I've got the "touch" back. The "touch" is using your instincts instead of your brain. When you are thinking it needs more water, the "touch" tells you that you don't. Then it comes together perfectly. The dough is smooth and you want to keep messing with it, but you don't. It rolls out beautifully. No sticky mess. No tearing. I stopped mumbling. This was gonna be good!

It was better than good. It was amazingly good. The veggies were bright and distinct and full of their own flavor. Oh, so that's why they are all cooked separately. The bechamel held everything together nicely, but didn't make a soupy mess...and it wasn't icky yellow. Then there was the crust. It was flaky and golden and even the bottom crust wasn't soggy. It was the best I've ever had. I ate every crumb, even the edges. The recipe serves 6, but there were 3 of us and we ate 3/4 of the pie. The other 3 people would have left very hungry. I used the pie crust trimmings to top a peach cobbler for dessert. I am going to become a pie-baking fool.

One thing I discovered, though, is that I'm not a huge fan of thyme. It's in a lot of recipes in this book and in a lot of my other cookbooks. I find it overpowering. I've used fresh and the dried Thyme in a Bottle (sorry, couldn't resist). I've decided to invoke my powers as Queen of my kitchen and leave it out or maybe just use a pinch. My kitchen, my rules.

Relax, Julie, Relax!

I had seen the movie "Julie & Julia". That's when I decided to do this project. The parts of the movie that I remember the most are the parts about Julia. I recently finished the book. The book seemed very different than the movie. Julie in the movie is cute, funny, a bit zany. Julie in the book is a bit of a loon. The thing is, though, I remember that. I remember that time in my life when everything was a big deal. I'd get something in my head and it would be crazy time until it was done or I'd found something else to take its place. Julie gave herself a year to complete her project. That deadline was all-consuming. She repeatedly raves that if she doesn't make it, the whole thing was pointless. So, in order to make it, she makes everyone around her miserable. My 30-ish self would have understood that. My 60-ish self kept asking, "Why? What difference does it make if you don't make the 1 year goal, or even if you don't finish it at all?"

When I started my project, I didn't even attempt a time-line. This is for fun. This is for the pleasure of the experience. I can accept that I may not complete the book. There are things I don't like to eat, and so I won't. There will be recipes that I will make often and others I will never make again. I have hundreds of other cookbooks, and I'm happy that beginning this project has inspired me to get back to using them and cooking more often and cooking better food. It's made me re-remember that I really love feeding people.

I can still get ramped up. I just try harder not to. Yesterday I planned to make 2 kinds of cookies, Mexican chicken & rice soup, and the chicken pot pie from the Ad Hoc Cookbook. The soup was easy, although I don't know what happened there. It doesn't look very good. Way too much rice, for one thing. It needs more work. The chicken pot pie took the rest of the day and the cookies vanished from the radar screen. I didn't freak out. I didn't stay up till all hours and exhaust myself. I accepted that the cookies would happen another day. They were for a get-together today. I just whipped up a quick cheese spread to take instead. At 30, this would have been crazy time.

Reading the book, I kept wanting to put my arms around Julie and saying, "It's ok. Relax." It made me remember. Thirty is feeling not quite good enough. It's feeling you have something to prove. It's feeling that everyone's opinion of you is more important than your own. It's wanting everyone to like you. Sixty is knowing you're good enough just as you are. It's liking yourself. It's knowing who you are. It's enjoying the people who like you and knowing it's ok if everyone doesn't. At 60, you can start a project and then just simply change your mind. You're in charge. You get to decide. You realize that nothing is worth making everyone around you miserable. I like 60 better.