A Post for New Year's Day: Black-Eyed Pea Soup

Traditions for the New Year: Black-Eyed Pea Soup

This one is my own creation, from reading and researching different recipes. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Just in case you missed it: It's a New Year! It's all over Facebook, so it must be true.

I hope everyone had time to relax and enjoy themselves on New Year's Eve. We had a chance to get together with friends, chat, play games, and snack the night away in a true non-wild party fashion. We even stayed up to see the ball drop, but instead of seeing that, Ryan Seacrest thought it was more important for Taio Cruz and OneRepublic to serenade us with mediocre top-40. By the time they cut back to Times Square, all we saw were the zamboni street sweepers. Seriously. There's always next year, but Seacrest: You are on the thinnest of ice.

I spent most of today either (a) walking around sleepy and crankypantsy or (b) sleeping because I stayed up too late last night. However, I was determined that we would have black-eyed peas in this house today. It is New Year's Day, after all.

I actually took some time to find out why eating black-eyes peas on New Year's is considered lucky, and found out some very interesting stuff. The following is blantantly copied from Wikipedia, which (of course), is the source of all truth in the universe:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black-eyed_pea

Lucky New Year food

New Year's Day in Alabama: black-eyed peas, ham hock, and pepper sauce

Eating black-eyed peas on New Year's Day is thought to bring prosperity.

The "good luck" traditions of eating black-eyed peas at Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, are recorded in the Babylonian Talmud(compiled ~500 CE), Horayot 12A: "Abaye [d. 339 CE] said, now that you have established that good-luck symbols avail, you should make it a habit to see qara (bottle gourd), rubiya (black-eyed peas, Arabic lubiya), kartei (leeks), silka (either beets or spinach), and tamrei(dates) on your table on the New Year." However, the custom may have resulted from an early mistranslation of the Aramaic word rubiya(fenugreek).^[4]

A parallel text in Kritot 5B states one should eat these symbols of good luck. The accepted custom (Shulhan Aruh Orah Hayim 583:1, 16th century, the standard code of Jewish law and practice) is to eat the symbols. This custom is followed by Sephardi and Israeli Jews to this day.

In the United States, the first Sephardi Jews arrived in Georgia in the 1730s, and have lived there continuously since. The Jewish practice was apparently adopted by non-Jews around the time of the American Civil War.

In the Southern United States,^[5] the peas are typically cooked with a pork product for flavoring (such as bacon, ham bones, fatback, or hog jowl), diced onion, and served with a hot chili sauce or a pepper-flavored vinegar.

The traditional meal also features collard, turnip, or mustard greens, and ham. The peas, since they swell when cooked, symbolize prosperity; the greens symbolize money; the pork, because pigs root forward when foraging, represents positive motion.^[6] Cornbread also often accompanies this meal.

Another suggested origin of the tradition dates back to the Civil War, when Union troops, especially in areas targeted by General William Tecumseh Sherman, typically stripped the countryside of all stored food, crops, and livestock, and destroyed whatever they could not carry away. At that time, Northerners considered "field peas" and field corn suitable only for animal fodder, and did not steal or destroy these humble foods.^[7]

Thanks to all the volunteers who gather all of this information on Wikipedia. I'm half-convinced it helped me get through graduate school.

Now, I just wondered how I could make this happen... and I made a grand plan. There would be some sort of black-eyed pea concoction, and fresh cornbread muffins, and something else if I hadn't already forgotten what it was I was planning to have with it. The black-eyed pea concoction was the only thing that actually happened.

Another slight bit of difficulty just came secondary to geography here: I am definitely not in the South anymore, and stores don't generally stock cans of black-eyed peas, even at New Year's. I got a bag of dried beans instead, which were very affordable, but a little intimidating. Overall, though, the dish went well, made a gigantic crock pot full of food, and used some leftover country ham from Christmas to boot. I'll call that a win for the New Year and welcome it as a good omen!

I realize that I'm getting this to you all a little late in the game: 10:21 PM on the evening of New Year's Day doesn't leave a lot of time for soup-making. My philosophy on that for this year is that because New Year's Day fell on a Sunday, making tomorrow a Federal holiday, we all get a pass for traditions- 48 hours for celebrations instead of 24. So, you still have a whole day to make this deliciousness for yourselves!

Black-Eyed Pea Soup

Note: This recipe makes enough to feed a small Eastern European country for about a week. You can cut down the recipe if you like, or even better, have some folks over and spread the good fortune around!

The hardest part of this turned out to be not so hard. The dried beans do need some prep beforehand, but once that's done, this is a very simple meal to prepare. You'll need one bag to start with.

First, take your dry black-eyed peas out of the bag (generally a 16-oz bag at the store). Put them into a colander and rinse them thoroughly, sorting through them to remove any roughage that shouldn't be there. After that's done, put them in a large pot and fill the rest of the way with hot water, as hot as you can get it from your tap. Bring it to a rapid, rolling boil for 2 minutes, stirring constantly to prevent it from boiling over. After that 2 minutes is up, remove the pot from heat and cover it. Ignore the pot completely for an hour, no matter how much it whines. Drain the excess liquid from the pot, and you're good to go! The peas should be softer, but still firm. Like an al dente black-eyed pea (e.g., Fergie's forehead post-Botox, etc. I tried to stay away from the Black-Eyed Peas jokes, I really did, but how can you?!?!)...

Now, gather the rest of the ingredients:

• You already have your prepared black-eyed peas.
• 1 14.5-oz can whole tomatoes (fire-roasted tomatoes would also be great in this recipe, but I didn't think of it until too late!)
• 1 14.5-oz can diced tomatoes
• 1 box vegetable stock
• 5-6 slices country ham, roughly chopped
• 1 package maple bacon, cooked and roughly chopped
• 1.5 white onions, diced
• Fresh garlic to taste
• 1 ts chipotle seasoning
• 1 habanero pepper, diced as small as possible with seeds removed.

Combine all of this in your slow-cooker. If you have all day, turn it on low. We put all of this together around 1:00, so we turned it on high, and it was plenty ready by supper. It has some heat from the pepper, but not too much, and a great smoky flavor from the chipotle seasoning.

Maybe tomorrow, I'll even make the cornbread.

Week ???: Comfort Food with your Leftover Thanksgiving Turkey

Turkey & Leek Pie

Adapted from Williams-Sonoma.com: http://www.williams-sonoma.com/recipe/chicken-leek-pie.html (The recipe as listed on the website was adapted from the Williams-Sonoma Food Made Fast Series, One Pot, by Carrolyn Carreño, Oxmoor House, 2008).

Well, as I haven't posted anything for about a year, you can easily tell that I seriously haven't accomplished what I wanted to when I started out doing this. After Thanksgiving, though, I'm finding a renewed sense of energy and desire to carve out time for myself in my own schedule. A few days off will really change your perspective on things!

Just an update: My first year of fellowship was great. It kept me busy (obviously), but also allowed me the chance to grow as a clinician and neuroscientist in ways I never thought possible. I never thought this is what I'd do when I grew up (I wanted to be an archeologist ballerina... not one right after the other, but both simultaneously. I think the tulle and pointe shoes may have not done well at digs, but that was completely beside the point at the time). I feel very fortunate to study one of the most fascinating elements of God's creation: the human being, and the brain that houses him. Since I last posted, I've passed that horrible licensing exam I wrote about before (the Exam for the Professional Practice of Psychology... better known as "4.5 hours of your life you'll never get back, not counting the months of studying leading up to it..."). I have some hopeful job prospects (which I'll fill you in on later when things are more certain).

Now I need to cook more. :)

Today, I was focused on doing something tasty with the leftover turkey from Thanksgiving. It was a glorious bird from the start and inspired by another new development over the past year: My mother has discovered new (and numerous) food sensitivities, which are helped by eating organic as much as she can. We ordered the turkey (the aforementioned glorious bird) from Whole Foods this year, and it didn't disappoint, as you can see.

The majority of this turkey got eaten without delay. I don't think it ever knew what hit it. After this point, though, I was left with about seven cups of perfectly good turkey meat (both white and dark) that I didn't know exactly what to do with. These weren't the bits that you can easily slice and make sandwiches out of, although an open-faced sandwich topped with the remainder of the Thanksgiving gravy and some cranberry sauce... that might need to be part of my plan in the next couple days!

These seven cups lent themselves well to a lovely recipe I've made before, only with chicken. I thought about it again, and my official Taste Tester thought it was a great idea to make it again with the leftover turkey. This chicken & leek pie, turned turkey & leek pie, is mildly flavored with simple, straightforward ingredients. The leeks give a great freshness and eliminate the need for chopping endless onions and garlic (as leeks are in the same family as both, any more would be overkill). This recipe does need salt- the extra salt on top before eating brightens the dish and really makes the flavors come through. It's even better after it sits a bit... the filling thickens more as it cools, and the flavors meld well. It assembles within 15 to 30 minutes, bakes quickly, and stores/reheats well. It's just good, simple, comforting stuff.

Ingredients:

• 1 package puff pastry, thawed
  
• 4 Tbs. unsalted butter
• 2 large leeks, white and light green portions, thinly sliced
  
• 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup dry white wine (Note: If you wouldn't drink it from the glass, don't put it in your cooking. Use what you like!)
• 4 cups chicken broth
• 4 cups of your leftover Thanksgiving turkey, torn into pieces
  
• 1 cup baby peas

Directions:

Preheat your oven to 425ºF.

Prepare the Filling

Melt 4 tbs of butter in a large pan. Add the leeks, season with salt and pepper, and

sauté until softened (about 5 minutes - you'll notice they take on the most fantastic bright green color, too).

Add the flour to the pan and stir constantly for 2 minutes. After this, stir in the wine and broth and bring to a boil. Don't worry about lumps- if you keep stirring, the leeks will generally get coated with the flour, and it disperses pretty evenly when you pour in the wine and broth.

You will want to prevent too much of the flour from sticking to the bottom of the pan, though. After the liquid reaches a strong boil, reduce the heat to low and simmer. Stir the liquid occasionally until the liquid thickens enough to allow you to see the bottom of the pan when you scrape your spatula against it. This takes about 5 minutes.

Stir in the chicken and peas, and season with salt and pepper.

Pour it into a 9 x 13 baking dish. Smooth it until it's generally flat and even.

Top with Pastry and Bake

Unfold a sheet of puff pastry and lay it on top of the filling. You might need to piece together the rest of it, like I did (one sheet of puff pastry wasn't big enough). Bake for about 25 minutes, but check it after 20. The top should be golden brown, and the filling should be bubbling. Let the dish sit for 5 to 10 minutes to allow the filling to thicken. Have salt and pepper on hand for seasoning.

This would taste great served with cornbread muffins! Drink a white wine with it... kick back and embrace the comfort food!

Week 19: My Pumpkin Pie Can Beat Up Your Honor Student

Pumpkin Pie
Source: Adapted from Alan Carter's Pumpkin Pie Recipe, printed in the November 2010 issue of Better Homes and Gardens

So, I'm behind. This is no shock to anyone who's been privy to this first few months of fellowship! I've been a cookin-up some great stuff... in the microwave. Oh yeah. Frozen vegetables. Frozen macaroni and cheese. Rinse and repeat.

But it is the holidays, after all... and the holidays call for at least some time in the kitchen, yes?

Several years back, I had some of the best pumpkin pie I've ever tasted, made by my good friend, Kristin. She told me her secret was starting from the pumpkin.

"You mean, like, out of a can?" I said.

She was kind enough not to make fun of me.

I learned pretty quickly that beginning from the pumpkin really isn't too bad. Also, it has the added perk of making me feel like some kind of savvy Martha Stewart-meets-American Pioneer Woman surviving off of nothing but her wits and bland, orange gourds.

Alan Carter, the pastry chef at Mission Beach Cafe in California, said this about pumpkins: "Pumpkin is a squash without much taste. Your grandmother's pumpkin pie may be good, but give it a boost with more spices for goodness' sake." Agreed, Alan. In my opinion, starting from the pumpkin gives you a golden opportunity to do this. If it's done correctly, you have a chance to add a layer of flavor to your pie filling before you've even started in on the recipe.

To begin, pick a sugar pie pumpkin from the pumpkin patch or your local grocery. Whole Foods had a nice selection this year of organic pie pumpkins. Whatever your choice, make sure you're choosing a pumpkin meant for pie-making. These pumpkins have a higher concentration of natural sugars and a more pleasing texture that will make a better filling in the long run.

Prepping Your Pumpkin Puree
Good for pies, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin cheesecake...

1. Preheat oven to 350F.
2. Heat a large stockpot full of water and put the pumpkin in the pot, whole. Boil it for about 20 minutes. Don't overcook it- you want to end up with a firm, tender squash instead of a pile of mush. I've made that mistake, and it is NOT pretty.
3. Split the pumpkin into halves with a large knife and scoop out the innards and seeds. Discard.
4. Cut further into quarters.
5. Peel the outer rind away from the pumpkin quarters. If boiled thoroughly, this should be very easy to do.
6. Place pumpkin pieces in a shallow, oven-safe pan. Sprinkle generously with brown sugar, pumpkin pie spice, and drizzle with molasses. Make a real mess out of this- the more you spice this, the better off you are in the long run.
   
7. Place the pan in the oven and roast the pumpkin pieces for 20 to 25 minutes.
   
8. After you've roasted the pumpkin, puree it in an electric mixer or food processor.
   

You can proceed directly to pie-making, or you can store this. Refrigerate after cooling completely for about a week. It also freezes very well.

Pumpkin Pie
1 piecrust for 9-inch pie
1 1/4 c canned pumpkin
2/3 c packed dark brown sugar
fresh ginger root
2 1/8 tsp pumpkin pie spice
1/4 ts salt
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2/3 + 1/2 c whipping cream
1/2 ts vanilla

1. Preheat oven to 350F. Press crust pastry into a 9-inch pan and prebake.
2. In a saucepan, combine pumpkin, brown sugar, cinnamon, salt, and pie spice. Peel ginger root and grate generously into mixture (I used approximately 3 tablespoons.
3. Stir over medium heat for about 4 to 5 minutes to integrate flavors. This heating will also help prevent your pie from cracking in the oven.
4. Beat in eggs and add cream and vanilla. Pour into prepared crust. Bake for 50 minutes.It will have some "jiggle" left in the custard, but should seem fairly set.
   

It was that good. Very creamy and wonderful. Using fresh ginger instead of ground added a lightness to the flavor that was very welcome. Next time, I might add a teaspoon of unflavored gelatin to allow the pie filling to retain some of the lift it has when it comes out of the oven (it naturally settles as it cools).

I'd love to hear from anyone who has their own tried-and-true pumpkin pie secrets!

A full five foodie forks on this one. I'm going to have some right now.

Week 3: Chicken Enchiladas with Green Chili Salsa

Source: Adapted from Good Friends, Great Tastes: A Celebration of Life, Food, and Friendship by Debbie Meyer-Gore
*Special thanks to Dawn Gettman for this cookbook. The first meal from it was a hit- I can't wait to try some more!

One day, I'll learn my lesson and stop trying new recipes when company is coming over. I'm afraid I'll end up with a big, stinky flop of a meal, and then I'll be ordering pizza... but in this stage of my personal development, I think it's healthy to throw caution to the wind and risk the flop. If my company gets annoyed, they are free to refrain from coming over again. Besides, I like pizza anyway.

This, however, was NOT a flop. Not even close. I wanted to lick the bowl in self-congratulatory glee after I mixed up the filling. Making this a vegetarian option would be fairly easy, just replace the chicken with a ton of sliced fresh vegetables you've sauteed until just soft (i.e., red bell peppers, green bell peppers, zucchini, even eggplant... replace it with whatever you want. I don't believe you could go wrong here). Otherwise, this is not health food. It has enough fat in it to give my beautiful nutritionist cousin a heart attack by proxy. I made some substitutions to lighten it up a little bit, but be afraid, and be cautious. This stuff will kill you. It isn't everyday fare if you're trying to watch your girlish figures, but it's darn good and worth it for a splurge.

The pizza will just have to wait for another day.

3 8-oz boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1/2 ts Tony Chachere's Creole seasoning
1/2 ts lemon pepper
1 tb Smart Balance
1 small red onion, finely chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1 (7oz) jar green salsa
1 (4.5oz) can chopped green chiles
2 c grated reduced fat Mexican blend cheese, divided use
2 c heavy cream
1/2 ts salt
12 corn tortillas
1 tomato, diced (1/4 inch pieces)
1 bunch green onion tops for garnish (dark green portions only)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Sprinkle chicken breasts with Tony Chachere's and lemon pepper. Spray pan with nonstick spray and sear chicken over medium heat until browned. Shred chicken breasts and set aside. Melt Smart Balance in skillet and saute onion until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic just before the onion is fully sauteed. Combine the chicken, onion, garlic, green salsa, chiles, and 1 cup cheese in large bowl. Mix heavy cream and salt together in a separate small bowl and set aside. Dip each tortilla into the cream mixture, coating each side. Fill each tortilla with the chicken mixture. Roll seam-side down and place in 9x13 baking dish coated with nonstick cooking spray. Pour remaining cream over the rolled tortillas and sprinkle with remaining cheese. Bake enchiladas for 20 to 25 minutes. Garnish before serving with tomato and green onion tops.

Rating: 5 out of 5 Foodie Forks
Make it. It's awesome.

Week 2: Shrimp Tacos

Source: Adapted from
http://www.lifesambrosia.com/2009/07/shrimp-tacos-with-cilantro-lime-sour-cream-recipe.html

One of the things I miss about the Pacific Northwest is the fish tacos.

When I moved to Seattle, I saw fish tacos on a menu and immediately gagged. I'm not a picky eater in any way, but I didn't understand why someone would ever, EVER, ruin a taco by replacing the meat with fish. I like tacos, and I like fish, but I was absolutely certain that I would NOT like the two in combination.

I know this doesn't sound like the beginning of a girl-meets-nosh match made in heaven, but you've seen 10 Things I Hate About You, right? Kat didn't like Patrick much at first, either. He had to work his way in to her good graces. In this parallel food relationship, the tacos had to put forth some effort and grow on me a bit. Although the tacos blatantly refused to garner my favor by serenading me in front of a football stadium full of people, someone did convince me to try the nauseatingly Neptunian nibbles at Ivar's Salmon House's happy hour several years ago. After that point, I just couldn't quit them. Suddenly, I was chasing them through Gasworks Park with paintballs and composing sappy poems about their dumb combat boots and my inability to hate them. They're coastal, fresh, light, and versatile... in my mind, a perfect summer food.

Caveat: I don't like cooking fish. It's temperamental and picky about heat, and oil, and everything else. Every now and then I take it on, and I always enjoy the finished product, but in my everyday weeknight eating, I want something that requires less attention. So what about replacing the fish with frozen precooked shrimp? I felt like it was a brilliant idea. Then, this recipe is a great use for the cilantro-lime crema you made for the gazpacho, because you'll want to eat it on everything you make indefinitely after eating it once.

• 1 lb large frozen cooked and peeled shrimp (tails off)
  
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon chili powder
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• corn tortillas
• cooking spray
  
• diced tomatoes
• sliced avocado
• cilantro lime crema (From Week 1 Entry)

1. Thaw the shrimp by placing them in a colander and running warm water over them for about 10 minutes.
2. Whisk together olive oil, garlic, cumin, salt and cayenne pepper (if using). Add in shrimp and toss to coat completely. Cover and refrigerate for 20 minutes to give the flavors a chance to marry. (HA! Really? I'm sure it would be better if you performed the flavor nuptials... but I was hungry. I just heated the darn shrimp in the mixture and called it a day.)
   
3. Cook shrimp in a skillet on medium heat heated through, about 5 minutes. Turn off heat and cover to keep warm.
4. Coat small pan or griddle with cooking spray. Heat over medium-high heat. Cook tortillas one at a time until soft, about 30 seconds on each side.
   
5. Spoon shrimp into each tortilla. Top with tomato, avocado, and cilantro-lime sour cream.

The Fellowship Foodie's Review: Too much heat and too little richness of flavor in the shrimp, but overall, a good recipe that just needs some work to make it exactly right. In a future variation, I'll try a spicy fruit glaze like mango or pineapple for the shrimp. Stay tuned!

Rating: 3 out of 5 Foodie Forks

Week 1: Creamy Gazpacho

Source: Personal variation of America's Test Kitchen Speedy Gazpacho, from 30-Minute Suppers

I absolutely love vegetables in a completely unqualified and unconditional manner, and the fresher the better. Raw vegetables are especially dear to me (i.e., I love raw carrots. I will not touch the vile putrescence created by cooking them), which makes gazpacho an ideal dish for me. The first time I made this particular recipe, I found the gazpacho itself boring and unimpressive, which is definitely not normal for an America's Test Kitchen recipe. After making it, I felt like I had to defend gazpacho's honor or something. I decided to make it again with some modifications, and it definitely turned out more to my liking. I find that the tomato juice (even the low-sodium version) gives the soup enough saltiness, but you might want to add some salt and pepper to taste. Let me know what you think!

Note: Recipe is best if ingredients are well-chilled before chopping and blending. Do not refrigerate the tomatoes, as this will render them mealy and bland. Get the freshest, ripest tomatoes you can find. The gazpacho will only be as good as its base.

1 large cucumber, peeled, halved lengthwise, seeded, and chopped into large pieces
2 small-to-medium red bell peppers, seeded and chopped into large pieces
2 very ripe beefsteak tomatoes, about 1 pound, cored and quartered
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and chopped
4 to 6 chopped green onions
4 cloves garlic, pressed
4 tb red wine vinegar (or to taste)
1 bunch cilantro, roughly chopped and divided
2 c low-sodium tomato juice, divided (reserve 1/2 c extra if necessary for batch blending)
1 c nonfat plain Greek yogurt
juice and zest of 1 lime
2 tb cumin

Pour 2 c tomato juice into blender and add cucumber, tomatoes, bell peppers, jalapeno peppers, green onions, garlic, vinegar, and half of the chopped cilantro. If necessary, blend in two batches using half of vegetables and half of juice, always pouring juice into blender first, next to blades. Puree and pour into large bowl. Blend half bunch cilantro, Greek yogurt, lime juice and zest, and cumin. Reserve some cream for garnish and stir the remainder into the tomato mixture until creamy.

Fantastic garnishes: additional cilantro-lime cream, lump crabmeat, diced avocado, roasted corn, drizzled extra-virgin olive oil

First Fare from the Fellowship Foodie

I'm 28 years old, 29 this February, and I've been in school since I was 5 years old. For those of you who're counting, that's 23 years of school. That means I've spent the past 10 years in higher education and the majority of my entire life in a classroom of some sort. Granted, some of those years involved Play-Doh, fingerpainting, and recess, but the point stands. I graduated with my Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology this past June and started a two-year fellowship in Clinical Neuropsychology two days ago. This basically means that my 23-year history of not having much of a life will continue for at least the next 24 months. During that time, I'll move on to taking the national licensing exam, move on to worrying about getting a permanent job, getting boarded in my specialty (involving another painful exam)...

It's become painfully clear to me that I need a hobby.

A former attorney named Barry Levenson had the same thought after the Boston Red Sox lost the 1986 World Series to the New York Mets. To work his way through the ensuing oppressive, black ennui, Levenson began collecting mustards of all shapes, sizes, and flavors. The home of Levenson's extensive collection transformed years later into the National Mustard Museum in Middleton, Wisconsin. Even though I have to respect the moxie it took to devote a museum to your own mustard collection, I don't want to end up spending my golden years in a shrine to a condiment (even if the tastings are free and the owner is the spitting image of Woody Allen)... but my options for relaxation are running thin. I mean, there's only so many times you can experience reruns of "The Office" as therapeutic. Going to the spa happens when someone takes pity on me and gives me a gift certificate. Reading has held little draw ever since books in graduate school sucked out bits of my soul page by page... but I still have to eat, right?

The plan is to test at least one recipe a week for the next two years- right through fellowship. At this point, my gentle gourmands, you may be thinking, "Haven't I seen this movie/read this book? Something about some Julie/Julia/woman who blogs about cooking while working through a mid-life crisis?" The answer: Yes. You have. I've been in school for 23 years, and none of those years involved a class on originality. Fortunately, there's no need to reinvent the wheel here. I like to cook, and a lot of you do, too. I'll post the recipe, my revisions to it, and a rating of some sort. Maybe you'll join in with me- send me a recipe to try. Try one with me. Post things that you think would be a good addition to this or that. I don't want to be a chef. I'm doing this because... well... it was there. It's no Mustard Museum, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Famous last words?
We'll see.

National Mustard Museum (Middleton, Wisconsin)