tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18128387735409756382024-03-11T02:16:18.838-04:00Buttered BreadUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-5437963303658962132020-03-07T10:50:00.002-05:002020-03-07T10:50:47.238-05:00We've moved! We've moved! But not, unfortunately, to Paradise. I've been slowly migrating some of my favorite recipes to a more user-friendly format and adding lots of new content, as well. Whether you've enjoyed this blog in the past or stumbled upon it recently, please follow me to my new website here and follow along.
Xx,
Claiborne
https://www.cwmilde.com
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-79288202205376733182019-10-24T14:54:00.001-04:002019-10-24T14:54:53.506-04:00The tomato soup we have on repeat
Whether your grandma made it from scratch or you drank it straight from the red and white can, chances are, if you were born in the U.S., tomato soup features prominently in your reel of childhood memories. My kids are picky when it comes to tomato soup, pronouncing most restaurant versions "too chunky" or "tastes like ketchup." The version we enjoy at home—a weeknight favorite of all family Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-83515662619583263792019-05-13T16:22:00.003-04:002019-05-13T16:22:30.036-04:00Savory Tarts
It has been many years since I originally posted my recipe for savory tart (aka slim quiche), and since then I've gotten lots of requests for a recipe for its variants, which I tend to post often on instagram. I bake these quite a bit, as they make nice use of random greens that accumulate in our refrigerator after overly optimistic greenmarket runs. They're a great way to use up radish tops Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-13356194933500267092019-02-21T16:32:00.001-05:002019-02-21T16:32:26.541-05:00Turnip Hummus
It's February. Even if you were, as my family recently was, the accidental recipient of *TEN POUNDS* of candy conversation hearts via Amazon (that's a whole lotta love), nothing exciting usually happens during this month. If you're a CSA subscriber or farmer's market shopper and live where winters are cold, you can't escape root vegetables, either. You may choose to avoid them—that's Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-21084596296327396042018-05-17T13:43:00.000-04:002018-05-17T13:43:06.746-04:00A word about ramps
Ramps, those stinking starlets of Spring, are here for their brief season. Chances are, if you live in the Eastern states or midwest, you can’t escape their presence on menus, in farmer’s markets, CSAs (like our excellent Local Roots), and now even in some supermarkets. The question is, are they being foraged into oblivion? There’s hot debate about that. Although they're often photographed as Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-50074800812026606772018-03-16T11:09:00.000-04:002018-03-16T11:09:02.216-04:00Inner worlds, outer worlds
A couple of nights ago at the family table, we paid tribute the great Stephen Hawking, who had left this world in the wee hours of the morning, and whose magnitude we wanted to make sure the kids appreciated. We parents and the big girls got appropriately science-nerdy and then a bit existential as the discussion flowed from black holes to cosmic energy, to the notion of a holographic universe, Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-61929881169814178132018-02-13T14:35:00.000-05:002018-02-13T14:35:41.451-05:00Seeded Winter SlawThis is the salad I keep coming back to this winter. It’s like a song stuck in my head, except there’s a bit of a different riff each time, depending on what vegetables happen to be in the fridge that particular day—and we've been wealthy in winter vegetables thanks to our Local Roots CSA share. The basics are the same: celery root, apples, and beets, all julienned matchstick thin. Sometimes I Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-47383372935927735152018-01-30T14:56:00.000-05:002018-01-30T14:56:01.862-05:00BeginningsTwenty years ago this month, New York City’s January air welcomed me with a fresh slap. I arrived trailing a suitcase and a folder full of resumes on thick paper. I also carried a binder case filled with my CD collection, whose contents hinted at former lives: “le Meilleur de Flashdance et Fame,” purchased in a bout of homesickness and nostalgia from FNAC in Paris during the previous post-collegeUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-55742997316016625222017-11-09T13:18:00.000-05:002020-12-04T15:04:21.526-05:00Something Else
About 10 years ago, when I had two toddlers under three, I dragged my sorry self into a holistic doctor's office. I could write an endless list of complaints I had at the time, but to sum it up, I felt like complete crap and thought that surely I must not be long for this world. After filling out forms and going through basic health questions, I moved on to a doctor-led dissection of my Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-63867893745633524592017-03-14T13:31:00.000-04:002017-03-14T13:31:28.159-04:00When life gives you lemons...bake
2017 has been weird. I wasn't going to write about it, but for much of the year I've spent way too much time in hospitals, as a visitor to (and advocate for) loved ones who, before this year, were perfectly healthy. One of them—my husband—is walking around in the world now, but the other—my Dad—has been through a bitch of a struggle for the past two months, and just when we think he's on his Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-91788909620406348932017-01-13T16:15:00.002-05:002017-01-13T16:15:33.675-05:00Oxtails
Just about four years ago, an acupuncturist ordered me to make myself a pot of oxtail soup. I was about to bring my third child into the world, and I was tired. Every part of me ached, my winter coat no longer zipped over my belly, and the big, wise boy I was carrying was doing everything he could to avoid January in New York City; he stayed put for two extra weeks. I never did make that Unknownnoreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-61272411872094356352016-11-05T09:40:00.000-04:002016-11-06T07:48:07.682-05:00Rustic Apple Strudel
A couple of weekends ago, we ushered in fall in upper Vermont and could have continued on to Canada if we’d wanted to, just to say we’d done it…but we didn’t. The leaves where we stayed in Warren were pretty much at peak, and the ferns along the mountain trails stood out green and electric against the changing maples. The air smelled like wood smoke at night, and there were ominous frost Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-50528553178385679372015-02-26T16:34:00.000-05:002015-02-26T16:34:36.218-05:00Winter Survival
It's the little things that get us through winters like this, when the predominant sound some nights is the rumble and scrape of snowplows, and morning brings the shriek of car wheels spinning in icy parking spots. During blizzards, I've found myself looking forward to watching our neighbor's late-night shoveling routine, which involves pushing every flake of snow away from his house, off the Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-43692201961636052952014-02-03T13:56:00.002-05:002014-02-03T14:21:17.151-05:00The Carrot CakeLast week we celebrated our boy’s first birthday, and I’m not entirely sure how that happened, since at the time of my last posting he hadn’t yet glimpsed the light of day. But then, a lot of things don’t add up — like the fact that I also have an almost ten-year-old and recently (gulp) rounded another decade. The boy and his fellow creatures have kept us busy, so much so that I haven’t had much Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-72780128189173823042012-11-23T13:33:00.000-05:002012-11-23T13:33:07.825-05:00Paris in November
Last week, my sister and I stole away for a bit, I with the bump in tow — because it may be a while before we can pull off such a caper again. Paris is lovely this time of year in its sleepy, drizzly way that allows colors to pop against the gray. The bones of the trees are showing. Without the usual fray of tourists, the city feels truer than in higher seasons, and you notice things Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-77502807703340466902012-09-18T23:30:00.000-04:002012-09-18T23:30:09.397-04:00Summer, stay a while
Our car is still littered with sand and sky-blue ferry tickets, and the girls' legs have kept a bit of their August brown, but mornings this past week have demanded socks and even jackets. The summer of 2012 was unanimously declared a good one by everyone under this roof – the way summers should be and the way we hope the kids will remember them.
So good and so very busy, in factUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-43502851126740672072012-06-01T12:54:00.002-04:002012-06-01T12:54:40.120-04:00Seen in MaySo hard to believe sweet May has come and gone, and that sultrier days and the end of school loom on the horizon. Here are some glimpses of the past month, and a cherished recipe to share: Claudia Fleming's buttermilk panna cotta, one of our favorite ways to show off the tender little strawberries that are bringing a bright pop of color to fields and farmers' markets right now. Be sure to try Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-70072940886036692652012-04-24T11:47:00.000-04:002012-04-24T11:47:02.089-04:00Paris with kids: a few of our favorite things
For our recent trip to Paris (there will be more, we hope) the goal was really just to let the kids soak in a new culture and allow this great city to wash over them–not to cram a heavy itinerary of museums and sights into the eight days we had. You’ll notice an absence of such biggies as the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay – but those you can find in any guide book. Here’s our list of what we Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-73451015730661754252012-04-13T19:13:00.000-04:002012-04-13T19:13:57.383-04:00Paris street artWe've done a lot of walking, here in Paris with the kids, and their stamina has exceeded expectations. One of my favorite things about this city is that the walk itself is often better than the actual destination, and so we've tried to make these strolls entertaining for the girls so they don't notice their feet getting weary. One of the little games we've been playing is "spot the street art". Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-49005678356094192192012-04-11T19:26:00.000-04:002012-04-11T19:26:29.227-04:00Musée de la PoupéeEach morning in Paris, no matter what we have announced our plans for the day to be, the girls have asked "So when can we go to the doll museum?" This morning, to their delight, we announced that the plan was to go to the Musée de la Poupée. The museum is tucked back in a sweet little alleyway amid the madness of Beaubourg, near the Centre Pompidou (modern art museum), next to a little garden in Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-79033917593806835202012-04-10T19:29:00.000-04:002012-04-10T19:29:11.553-04:00DeyrolleIt has been raining for much of the time we've been here – a lazy, benign rain that we can't seem to take too seriously, in spite of the spectacularly crappy umbrellas we bought yesterday near the Hotel de Ville. Somehow Paris just seems right this way in April, and somehow the drizzle hasn't stopped us from walking everywhere, with perpetually soggy cuffs. Today after the 6-year-old and I made Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-29315992275056290692012-04-08T19:01:00.000-04:002012-04-08T19:01:42.668-04:00Easter in ParisWhen I told my daughters we would be spending Easter in Paris, there was a brief moment of panic. Would the Easter Bunny be able to track them here? The 7-year-old decided that of course the Easter Bunny would find them, and not only that, he would be making his delivery wearing a beret. Later, after we had landed and were riding in the taxi from the airport, I broke it to them: Kids in France Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-87684501084181995812012-04-04T12:05:00.000-04:002012-04-04T12:05:58.384-04:00Paris, the first timeOver Thanksgiving, while rifling through my girlhood room, I found the green and white composition book that served as my diary during my first trip to Paris, when I was 11 years old. I’m trying to recapture some of the wonder with which I glimpsed that city through innocent eyes, since later this week (!) we'll be introducing our own daughters to the City of Light, and I want to remember what itUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-15536473582310886832012-03-21T17:27:00.000-04:002012-03-21T17:27:44.579-04:00Have a snackTravel shimmers on the not-so-distant horizon, but for now we're enjoying the delicious distractions of spring around town. Some of the scenery…
…And one of our favorite snacks, the old-fashioned way (for lack of microwave, this is how we roll):
Savory popcornPopping corn
Peanut oil (or other high-heat vegetable oil)
Good salted butter
Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, or similar
Choose a Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1812838773540975638.post-22170088977730306802012-03-15T13:55:00.000-04:002012-03-15T13:55:55.487-04:00Hen Soup
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