Without a doubt this is absolutely our favorite time of year.  And our favorite holiday.  For those not in the know Thursday, November 24th is Thanksgiving.  At least to us Americans.  Our Canadian cousins have already celebrated in October.  It is a time for family and friends to come together for no other purpose than to eat, enjoy and be grateful for all that we hold dear.  Sometimes it’s a simple thing like being thankful for a new job and other times it’s more meaningful like giving thanks for a supportive partner or family who stands behind you no matter what.  Nothing terribly religious.  No gifts.  No pomp.  No circumstance.  Just an all-out feast to share with those you love.  Then again you might be thankful if the odd person or two couldn’t make dinner that evening but it being a holiday we’ll try to keep a positive spin on things. 

Many people have asked us the what and why of the day.  History has never been a great strong suit so we dusted off a few websites and found some oddly familiar fun facts.  In December 1620, Pilgrims (technically anyone who travels to a foreign and distant and strange land – oh look, that’s us) were sailing up and down the coast of Cape Cod, part of what is now known as Massachusetts.  Winter weather forced them to land in Plymouth.  Alternately referred to as Puritans, Separatists and Colonists , these hearty folk hit a bit of bad luck getting settled when, in the following Spring, two plucky Indians came to their aid.  Samoset came first and returned a few weeks later with his pal, Squanto.  They in turn introduced the Pilgrims to Massasoit, the chief of the Wampanoag tribe.  The Puritans elected John Carver as their first Governor who, along with Massasoit, arranged a treaty of peace.  Samoset, Squanto and fellow Wampanoags taught their new neighbors how to hunt, fish and plant crops including corn, pumpkin and beans.  Crops were bountiful that year and in Fall 1621, the Puritans invited their Indian friends to continue the religion-based rituals of thanksgiving.  But for them it was a three-day festival celebrating their just reward of hard, shared labor from which they truly reaped what they had sown.  So, in exceedingly broad strokes, there you have it.  Of course nit-picky academics will take issue with my synopsis, but that’s what they do best so let’s just be a little bit thankful for that.

As for us, we are thankful for many things this year.  What an incredible journey it has been.  The next stop on our crazy itinerary is hosting Thanksgiving dinner on the night at Soho House London.  We are thankful to our friends Lucy and Vanessa for making it possible.  Of course we might be damning them in the not too distant future but, again, let’s stay positive.  For the most part my work is done with the exception of choosing what to wear.  I was in charge of developing the savory side of things while OD is busy baking pies and cheesecakes.  Soho House kitchen logistics prevail when cooking for nearly 200 so we are popping in for a taste or two on Wednesday and then back we go to our kitchen to finish baking.  It’s a bit tensing to say the least but, at the same time, quite liberating since Chef Leon and his team are the ones doing all the hard work.  So thanks to you, Leon, and all who work beside you.  They are toiling and boiling away to prepare this glorious feast:

            Spiced Roasted Nuts for nibbling

            then

            Roast Turkey w/ Cherry Cornbread Sausage Dressing and Giblet Gravy

            with

            Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes

  Collard Greens

            Corn Pudding

            Glazed Turnips, Rutabagas (or Swede) and Carrots

            Pear Succotash

            Sweet Potato Mash w/ Pecans

            Cranberry Currant Compote

            followed by

            OD’s Famous Pecan Pie

            OD’s Famous Apple Pie

            OD’s Famous Pumpkin Cheesecake

So thanks to Samoset and Squanto for getting the ball rolling in the first place.  Without their generous spirit for lending a helping hand, none of this might have come to pass.  Let’s all be grateful that kindness can and should be offered no matter what.  It doesn’t take much and, who knows, maybe it’ll be your kind gesture that starts a new holiday.

Last but not least we take a moment to thank our families for whom we know it’s difficult to read this from afar as opposed to being able to say “please pass the cranberries.”  We are ever grateful for your love and support on this holiday and throughout the year.

Happy Thanksgiving one and all. 

Last night dinner with two fellow expats, one Polish the other American and both architects, led to the discussion of life in the UK.  I offered that somehow it doesn’t seem real.  Not that it isn’t, but there is a bit of a disconnect when reading British news, watching kids play in school uniforms or hearing “ta” come out of your mouth when you know damn well it should have been “thanks.”  It’s sort of like living in a state of suspended animation.  Or an out-of-body experience.  I don’t yet see a pretty tunnel of light so presumably I still roam this earth.  What should be and was familiar is still, after 6 years, a relative oddity.  Each day brings yet another challenging accent despite English being spoken.  OD sat this one out since he figured we would be talking architectural jive all evening.  Clearly not.  As we were getting caught up amidst all our jargon my uttered words were becoming more and more unbelievable.  I said something like “I still can’t believe this is happening.”  Maybe I’m misunderstanding what is being said to me?  Maybe I conjugated incorrectly?  Maybe an email was sent prematurely and only half the message was sent/received?  Maybe that damned predictive text thing kicked in again when it shouldn’t have?  Maybe I’m dumb?  Whatever could I possibly mean???  What could any of it mean???  Surely when the locals say “black” they mean black.  Not white or, worse, gray.  Well herewith, I offer up some evidence for you to draw your own conclusions.  I still sure as hell can’t make heads or tails of it.  And God knows my unique perspective of looking down upon our lives from above is no help.  Unlike The X Factor results, these are in a particular order:

 CLUE # 1:  We were paid to write a book on baking

CLUE # 2:  Rizzoli New York bought the book for US publication, Fall 2012

CLUE # 3:  Various UK TV food shows call for our humble opinions

CLUE # 4:  Brainstorming with OD gives birth to Blue Plate (see Clue # 7)

CLUE # 5:  BBC Radio comes calling with a proposal

CLUE # 6:  BBC TV comes calling with a proposal (in the same week)

CLUE # 7:  Dinner with architect friends is needed to strategize expansion plans

CLUE # 8:  Guido Tommasi Editore bought the book for Italian publication, Fall 2012

CLUE # 9:  Google offers free translation (see below)

Baked in America                  Cotto in America

eat cake now                          mangiare la torta ora

chapter one                            capitolo primo

book cover                              libro di copertura

holy shit                                  porca puttana

wow                                        wow

Am I making any sense yet?

Since last we blogged, we’ve barely survived a record-setting non-stop three-day Wine and Cheese Festival.  We’ve also survived a mother-in-law Chili Smack Down.  Momma Lesniak weighed in with her secret:  mustard.  No pesky capers, olives or raisins, but mustard.  And there you have it:  New Jersey Chili.  OD was telling me @felicityspector twittered something about our Pumpkin Cheesecake which we did as part of our festival demonstration.  According to him she said “there are no words.”  In fact, what she said was “@OutsiderTart Pumpkin Cheesecake.  Seriously guys.  Beyond.  That’s all I’m sayin.”  But being a faithful partner I hang on every word I’m told.  And being in mid-recovery from a hectic weekend prior, I’m going with word of mouth on this one:

there are no words (left in me)…              

I put potatoes in the Picadillos.  There.  I said it.  Consequences be damned.  While this might not mean a thing to most people, to me it means I’ve put my life in someone else’s hands.  Thankfully that person is about 7,000 miles away but, if need be, I could take her down with a single blow.  She’s barely 5-feet tall.  Nonetheless, I’m sure I’ll be hearing about it for quite some time.  Thursday being Chili Night at Outsider Tart, we often ask people for requests when deciding what to make.  Sometimes it’s all about the chef’s mood moving target that it is.  Sometimes it’s about honing a technique or a recipe or trying out a new gadget or ingredient.  Tonight its Picadillos because a friend, Susie Pearl, has just received a copy of her first book soon to be released (we're a bookish lot, what can I tell you).  Picadillos is her favorite chili option even though it’s debatable if it qualifies as chili in the first place.  Given that it’s made with ground beef and simmered in a large pot with onions, garlic, olives, capers, raisins, green pepper, tomato and vinegar for however long, chef’s discretion rules it as chili. 

The recipe comes from OD’s mother oft referred to as Abuela.  That is when she’s in a good mood.  Anyhoo, I’ve made the recipe many times typically for OD’s birthday meal.  Panic has set in on a few occasions when turning the house upside down looking for the recipe so this time I decided to put it down for posterity.  First trick was getting the spelling right.  Google is a godsend for that sort of thing especially when us Yanks have to decipher anything of Latin origin. One would think I could turn to the actual Latin descendent in the family for this information but Spanish nor spelling is his strong suit.  Abuela’s recipe was easy to memorialize as opposed to those of her son.  For kicks I poked my head into a Cuban cookbook given to me by Abuela herself.  That Picadillos recipe included potatoes.  To my way of thinking, this means Abuela indirectly gave me permission to add potatoes.  I could lie and tell you the book recipe also added cumin, oregano and bay leaves (in this case avocado leaves – my new toy) but she’s a wise woman that Abuela and she’d double-check that claim and bother to fly over just to bop my head.  Other research uncovered regional variations using a variety of herbs and spices and thus my agenda was set.  As an accompaniment, OD is making Mariquitas or fried plantains (think unripe bananas).  Per my friend Google, technically speaking he’s making Chichachirritas.  Not to nitpick, but when the plantain is sliced lengthwise yielding wavy fried rectangular-ish chips you get the former but when sliced across to make discs you get the latter.  He made discs.  Need I say more?  Okay, maybe just a bit more.  He placed the freshly sliced chips in a salt water bath prior to deep frying.  Abuela didn’t like this one bit.  I heard that whilst stirring a pot of potato-laden Picadillos and it suddenly dawned on me torches were being passed.  When it comes to all things baking/cooking, this is precisely what is supposed to happen in the kitchen:  family favorites being tweaked a bit for one reason or another, stories told, friendly debates waged, new tastes achieved.  Some may become a new benchmark, some may not.  Some may open your eyes, some may shut your mouth.  But the simple task of cooking is at its best when it brings people together no matter the distance.  So tonight we will see if we get a thumbs up on a regional variation of a family classic.  Hey, it’s the same ocean.  It’s even another island.  How bad could it be?

In other news, we’re off to Manchester this weekend for a radio interview, a Chocolate Festival and a book signing.  That should keep us out of trouble, no?  Watch this space, though, as we have a bit of news coming soon….

Buen Apetito!