Elm Creek Quilts [13] The Quilter's Kitchen (5 page)

Place all the ingredients in a large serving bowl, gently toss, and serve immediately.

Poached Peaches

Serves 4

1 cup dry white wine

½ cup water

¹
/
₃
cup sugar

1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise

4 firm but ripe peaches, halved or cut into thick slices

Place the wine, water, sugar, and vanilla bean in a medium-size saucepan and bring to a boil over high heat. Lower the heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the sugar has dissolved. Off the heat, remove the vanilla bean and scrape the seed back into the syrup. Return to medium heat, add the peaches, and simmer until the peaches are just tender, 10 to 12 minutes.

Transfer to a bowl and refrigerate until cold, at least 3 hours.

Cupcakes with Chocolate Ganache

Yield: 12 cupcakes

For the ganache:

1 cup heavy cream

8 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped

For the cupcakes:

1½ cups all-purpose flour

1½ teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon kosher salt

½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup sugar

1 large egg, at room temperature

2 large egg yolks, at room temperature

1½ teaspoons vanilla extract

½ cup sour cream

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line 12-cup muffin pan with paper or foil liners.

To make the ganache:
Place the heavy cream in a small saucepan over medium-high heat and cook until it just comes to a boil, 3 to 4 minutes. Place the chocolate in a medium-size bowl and add the cream. Cover the bowl with aluminum foil or a plate and set aside for 5 minutes. Stir until smooth. Cover and refrigerate until it has cooled completely, 45 minutes to 1 hour.

To prepare the cupcakes:
Place the ingredients in a bowl and mix, by hand or with a mixer fitted with a paddle, until smooth and satiny (about 30 seconds with the mixer). Scrape down the sides of the bowl and mix again until smooth.

Divide the batter evenly among the 12 cups. Transfer the muffin pan to the oven and bake until the tops are just beginning to color but not brown, 20 to 24 minutes.

Transfer the cupcakes to a wire rack and set aside to cool. When the cupcakes and the ganache have fully cooled,
finish the ganache:
Using a hand-held mixer or a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, whip the chocolate until it is light brown and fluffy and forms medium-stiff peaks, about 2 minutes.

Place 2 to 3 generous tablespoons on each cupcake and spread until smooth.

Dutch Apple Pie

Serves 8

For the crust:

3 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon sugar

¾ teaspoon kosher salt

¾ cup (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, chilled and cut in slices

6 tablespoons shortening

¹
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₃
cup ice water

For the topping:

¾ cup all-purpose flour

½ cup old-fashioned oats

½ cup light brown sugar, loosely packed

¼ teaspoon kosher salt

¼ cup melted unsalted butter

For the filling:

4 Granny Smith or other tart apples, cored, quartered, and sliced

4 Braeburn or other sweet apples, cored, quartered, and sliced

2 tablespoons sugar

2 tablespoons light brown sugar

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

¼ cup heavy cream

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

To make the crust:
Place the flour, sugar, and salt in a food processor fitted with a steel blade and process until combined. Add the butter and shortening, a little bit at a time, and process until the mixture is pebbly. Gradually, while the machine is running, add the water and process until the dough pulls away from the sides and starts to form a ball. Form into two balls and then press down to form two disks. Cover with a piece of parchment paper and refrigerate one disk at least 1 hour and up to overnight. Cover the remaining disk with plastic wrap (over the parchment) and freeze up to 2 months for future use.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

To prepare the topping:
Place the flour, oats, sugar, and salt in a bowl and toss well. Add the butter, mix until crumbly, and set aside.

To make the filling:
Place the apples, sugars, flour, and cinnamon in a large bowl and toss well. Add the cream and vanilla and toss again.

Roll out the pie dough to form an 11-to 12-inch round and place in a 9-inch pie plate. Crimp the edges, if desired. Place the filling in the pie shell and transfer to the preheated oven. Bake for 15 minutes and then reduce the heat to 350 degrees F.

Remove the pie from the oven and cover with the topping, patting down so it adheres to the apples. Return to the oven and bake until lightly browned, about 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes.

Watermelon Cooler

Yield: 8 cups

3 cups cubed seeded watermelon

For the lemonade:

¾ cup sugar

1½ cups boiling water

4 cups cold water

2 cups freshly squeezed lemon juice (about 8 lemons)

3 lemons, thinly sliced

To make the frozen watermelon “ice”-cubes:
Place the watermelon in a blender or food processor fitted with a steel blade and process until blended. Transfer to 3 to 4 ice-cube trays and freeze.

To make the lemonade:
Place the sugar and boiling water in a heatproof glass container and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Set aside to cool to room temperature. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Place in a large pitcher, add the cold water and lemon juice and stir well. Just prior to serving, add the lemon slices and some watermelon cubes to each glass.

As Sylvia returned to the cupboards near the sink to take down glasses and wrap them carefully in paper before packing them in boxes, Anna steeled herself to search the cabinet where she had found the red-and-white gingham tablecloth for more mildewed linens. She hoped that Sylvia was correct and the damage had come about because her sister had not properly washed and dried the tablecloth before putting it away, and not because the windows or water pipes had leaked.

Kneeling, Anna reached deep into the cabinet and grasped another bundle of cloth—terry-cloth dish towels, she discovered when she brought them into the light, worn and suitable only for rags. She set them aside and felt around for more linens, but instead her fingers brushed something solid and smooth, and something else that felt like hard, twisted straw. Tugging the objects into the light, she found that she held a glass oval serving dish cut with facets to gleam like crystal and a slightly larger woven basket with handles on the ends.

Taking one of the terry-cloth dish towels, she wiped a layer of dust from the cut-glass serving dish and held it up so the facets sparkled in the sunlight. Although it needed a good washing, not a single scratch or chip marred it, which suggested that it was either relatively new or that it had been cared for well as something precious and cherished. “Sylvia, look at this.”

“More mildew?” As Sylvia leaned across the counter, her eyes widened at the sight of the dish and she let out a laugh of astonished delight. “My goodness, Anna, you’ve unearthed a treasure!”

Anna balanced the cut-glass dish on top of the woven basket and carefully rose. “The dish looks to be in perfect condition, but the basket—” Anna set them side-by-side on the counter so that she and Sylvia could examine them together. The tightly woven yellow straw was spotted black with mold, and one of the handles had unraveled and had come detached on one end. Only then did Anna notice how the basket was shaped to fit snugly around the cut-glass dish.

“My mother loved this set,” Sylvia said, touching the plate lightly, tracing a diamond facet. “It was a wedding gift from a cousin, one of the few members of her family not to disown her after she eloped with my father.”

“What?” Anna exclaimed.

“Oh, yes. Her parents wanted her to marry the son of a prominent New York businessman, but instead she ran off with a horse farmer from the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania. All for love.” Sylvia spoke the last phrase in a disdainful, bemused tone that Anna imagined was an imitation of the cold, unforgiving parents who had disowned their own child for following her heart. “My mother’s cousin defied the entire family by sending this wedding gift.”

Anna wasn’t sure if sending the gift was as courageous as Sylvia seemed to think. Surely the cousin could have sent it secretly, so that only Sylvia’s mother knew of her defiance. “I can tell your mother cherished it,” she said instead. “The basket’s a little damaged, but the dish is in perfect condition.” Anna doubted Sylvia’s mother would have approved of how they had been stored for the past few decades, but since that was Sylvia’s sister’s fault—and Sylvia’s sister seemed to be a sensitive topic around Elm Creek Manor—she didn’t mention it. “Did your mother save them for special occasions?”

“Yes and no,” said Sylvia, smiling. “She used it on special occasions, but my mother always found a reason to call an ordinary day a special occasion, so the cut-glass dish was on our table quite often. And on other tables, as well.” She placed the dish into the basket. “See how nicely it fits? The handles—before this one broke, of course—made it so easy to carry that my mother used this dish for every potluck dinner she attended. My father used to tease that she chose the recipe to fit the dish rather than choosing the right dish for a particular recipe.”

“My mother did the same thing,” said Anna. “But her favorite potluck carrier was a ceramic cake plate with a plastic cover and a handle.” Anna had loved to attend potluck dinners in the neighborhood, sampling tasty casseroles and yummy desserts and matching them to their makers. She and her siblings had always compared notes afterward, evaluating the other ladies’ cooking skills and declaring that their mom was the best cook of all.

“One of our campers told me a story once about a potluck birthday party she had celebrated as a child…” Sylvia rested her chin in her hand, thinking. “Yes, of course. Vinnie and the Potluck Pals.”

“Vinnie?” The name sounded familiar. “Isn’t she the camper we had that birthday party for back in August? What was it—her eighty-second or eighty-third birthday?”

“Something like that,” Sylvia said. “If she wants to leave that detail a bit vague, I say we should let her. But she’s shared other details with me and the Elm Creek Quilters, as well as many of our campers, so I’m sure she won’t mind if I share them with you.

“You’d never know it from her sunny nature, but Vinnie had a tragic childhood. Her mother died when she was quite young, and her father simply fell apart. He could barely take care of himself, much less Vinnie and her elder brother. Vinnie began acting out in school—skipping classes, getting in fights—so she was sent to live with her aunt Lynn. Her aunt took good care of her, or so Vinnie says, but at the time she wanted nothing more than to go home to her father and brother.

“Her eighth birthday approached, but Vinnie had no interest in celebrating. Vinnie told her aunt that she wanted to spend her birthday with her father and brother or do nothing at all. Well, for reasons I don’t know and probably wouldn’t accept, her father didn’t invite her to come home even for the day, so Vinnie resigned herself to no birthday party.”

“His grief was probably too strong,” said Anna.

“Perhaps.” Sylvia shrugged dismissively as if to say that a stronger, better man would have risen to the occasion for his children’s sake. Suddenly Anna remembered overhearing one of the Elm Creek Quilters mention that Sylvia’s mother had died quite young, too. Perhaps Sylvia could not help but compare Vinnie’s father to her own, a man who had apparently never disappointed his children.

“The morning of Vinnie’s birthday arrived,” Sylvia continued. “Her aunt and a friend woke her cheerfully and told her to get up right away because the Potluck Pals were coming over for her birthday party.”

“The Potluck Pals?” Anna echoed, smiling. “Not Vinnie’s classmates, I’m guessing.”

“No, the guests weren’t Vinnie’s circle of friends but her aunt’s, a group of ladies who met twice a month for a potluck meal and card games. The way Vinnie describes them—shopgirls and secretaries and schoolteachers—they must have been quite modern for their time, probably rather scandalous.”

“I like them already,” said Anna.

“Oh, Vinnie, too. Vinnie adored them. On that day they played cards and laughed and joked, and later they turned on the radio and danced and danced. Vinnie told me it was the first time since her mother had passed that she forgot her grief. What an enormous burden to carry for such a little girl.”

Anna nodded. It was so sad, but she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Vinnie’s father, too. Surely he would have comforted and consoled his daughter if he had been able.

But he had not, and Vinnie had been fortunate indeed to have Aunt Lynn and the Potluck Pals.

“On that day, Vinnie says, she vowed always to celebrate her birthday as happily as she could, to show gratitude for another year despite the hardships it had brought along with its joys.” Sylvia looked off into the distance, so wistful that Anna was tempted to ask if she were remembering lonely birthdays of her own, birthdays when she could have used a friend like Vinnie to remind her to count her blessings. But before she could bring herself to ask, Sylvia left her reverie and said, “Some years it’s more difficult to truly celebrate, but Vinnie always found a way. That’s what brought her to Elm Creek Manor.”

“What do you mean?”

“After her husband died, she almost broke her promise to herself, but then at the last minute she came across a brochure for Elm Creek Quilt Camp and decided to spend her birthday with us. She thought it would distract her thoughts and keep her busy, and she didn’t think she would feel her husband’s absence so keenly surrounded by cheerful, busy quilters. When we heard about her circumstances, we surprised her on the morning of her birthday with a breakfast blueberry muffin with a birthday candle. All the campers sang to her, and I wish I had taken a picture because the expression on her face was priceless.”

“That’s why you had me serve everyone blueberry muffins that morning in August,” Anna said, suddenly remembering. “It was a tribute to Vinnie’s first birthday celebration at Elm Creek Manor.”

Sylvia nodded. “Vinnie has promised to celebrate every birthday with us for as long as she can travel, and she’s so spry and optimistic that I expect we will be contriving new ways to surprise her for years to come.”

Anna agreed, thinking of the Potluck Pals and how they had brought much more than tasty dishes and birthday greetings to that lonely, grieving girl so long ago. She wished that for Vinnie’s next surprise party—the surprise party that all the campers had come to expect though they never knew what form it would take—she could re-create that potluck party from so long ago. What better way to express her admiration for Vinnie’s determination to create her own happiness despite her grief, for her resolve to find something worth celebrating in life, for her refusal to let loss turn her bitter and mistrustful?

Elm Creek Manor had so many stories, Anna thought, so many campers with tales as compelling as Vinnie’s, and she longed to know them all. Each new story showed her a new facet of Elm Creek Quilts she had never suspected, like turning the cut-glass dish over in her hands near the sunny kitchen window and discovering new patterns of light cast upon the hardwood floor.

Tomato Mushroom Ragout

Yield: sauce for 1 pound of pasta

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 Spanish onion, chopped

3 garlic cloves, minced

1½ pounds button mushrooms, wiped clean and sliced or chopped, stems included

1 teaspoon dried rosemary

½ ounce dried porcini mushrooms, chopped

One 28-ounce can whole tomatoes, including juice

¼ cup red wine

½ teaspoon kosher salt

Place a large skillet over medium-high heat and when it is hot, add the oil. Add the onion, garlic, mushrooms, and rosemary and cook until the vegetables have softened, about 10 minutes. Add the porcini, tomatoes, wine, and salt and cook until the ingredients come together, 20 to 30 minutes.

Spinach Lasagna

Serves 6 to 8

1 pound whole or skim-milk ricotta cheese

2 large eggs

1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1 large bunch flat-leaf spinach, chopped and blanched

One 8-ounce box no-cook lasagna noodles

1 pound Fontina or mozzarella cheese, thinly sliced or grated, or a combination of both

2½ cups tomato sauce

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly grease an 9 x 13-inch pan with olive oil.

Place the ricotta, eggs, and ½ cup Parmesan cheese in a medium-size mixing bowl and stir to combine. Add the spinach and gently mix.

To assemble the lasagna:
Put three noodles across the prepared pan. Add one-third of the ricotta-spinach mixture, in dollops, on top of the noodles. Sprinkle with one-third of the Fontina cheese and then top with about ¾ cup tomato sauce. Repeat twice and then add another layer of noodles, another of sauce, another layer of Fontina cheese, and finish with the remaining Parmesan cheese.

Cover with aluminum foil, press down to tighten the layers and transfer to the oven. (If storing, cover with plastic wrap instead of foil. You can refrigerate up to 3 days or freeze up to 2 months.)

Bake for 30 minutes, remove the foil, and bake until the sauce is bubbling and the top is lightly browned, 25 to 30 minutes. Set aside to cool for about 10 minutes. Serve immediately or cover and refrigerate up to 3 days.

Spicy Meatballs

Yield: 18 large meatballs

¼ cup panko bread crumbs

¼ cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon kosher salt

½ teaspoon black pepper

1 slice white bread

¼ cup whole milk

1 to 1¼ pounds ground beef

1 large egg, beaten

¼ cup finely grated Parmesan cheese

2 tablespoons finely chopped onion

Grated zest of ½ lemon

¼ cup chopped fresh Italian flat-leaf parsley leaves

1 teaspoon dried basil

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

2 tablespoons olive oil

Place the bread crumbs, flour, salt, and pepper on a plate and mix well.

Place the bread and milk in a 4-quart bowl and set aside for 5 minutes.

Squeeze the milk out of the bread, discarding the milk. Using your hands, break the now mushy bread into small pieces. Add the ground beef and mix until the ingredients are well combined.

Using the back of your fist, create a crater in the middle of the meat mixture. Add the egg, cheese, onion, grated lemon zest, parsley, basil, oregano, and pepper flakes and combine until the mixture is well blended. When you think it’s done, mix for another minute or two.