Is it possible we find
ourselves at summer’s end once more?
I’m shocked every year when it happens. Another summer has flown by, the heat breaking to let the
warm days and cool nights of September move across the threshold. Everyone is out at Washington Square
Park trying to soak up those last few rays of strong sun before fall classes
hit high gear for the incoming NYU students. Jazz is playing throughout the park; people relaxed in
conversation, reading books or sleeping on the lawn as acorns rain down from
above, squirrels beginning their cold weather food storage. It’s a perfect day, a very different
day from those in the past week full of rain and wind from hurricane Irene.
The hurricane is all anyone
would or could talk about last week, it was the only thing that seemed to
matter, and although I didn’t want to play into the hype it was nigh on
impossible to escape from the doomsayers and forecasters appearing on every
channel twenty-four hours a day.
To have a hurricane hit New York City is a big deal; an unheard of
circumstance and my parents were lucky enough to come for a visit on such a
historic and bizarre weekend.
Never before has the city shut down all its public transportation and
evacuated low-lying areas of the 5 boroughs. Even our town of Ossining declared a state of emergency, not
allowing anyone to drive on the roads after 6pm the night the storm entered the
area. I have been through two
hurricanes in the past and I wasn’t looking forward to a third.
What I was looking forward
to was my parent’s visit. The last
time they saw Siena she was only three weeks old and obviously a lot has
changed since then. She has become
a person all her own, complete with a couple of teeth breaking through the
surface of her lower gums. She has
become somewhat mobile and able to sit on her own, full of charming smiles for
all and I wanted Grandma and Grandpa to get to experience this while she’s at
such a cute age. I had been
planning their visit for sometime and had a list of activities scheduled for
the big weekend, but unfortunately Irene had plans of her own. Life happens while you’re planning it,
right?
Last week was a strange one
in general. Not only was there a
hurricane but also the aftershocks of an earthquake in Virginia could be felt
in NYC. I was sitting at my desk
working like usual when I felt some serious foot tapping. You know the kind if you ever sat
somewhere with a wooden floor and someone close by is incessantly tapping his
or her foot while they work. I
know it so well because its something I do from time to time myself, but I
digress. I was sitting at my desk
becoming momentarily annoyed with the tapping and turned around to see who was
doing it. No feet appeared to be
moving. The shaking kept going and
seemed to get a little stronger and I thought maybe people were moving large
objects across the floor in the office above us but that didn’t seem quite
right either. By this time
everyone in the office was looking around and a slight alarm bell went off
inside. I looked at the bay of
windows and door leading out to the balcony over which an exit sign is
stationed. It was vigorously swaying
back and forth. I knew this wasn’t
right. Along about this time the
owner asked us to calmly evacuate.
The whole building was
trying to casually flee down the stairs, not knowing what the heck was going on
but hoping for nothing terrible or extreme. By the time we were outside and found out what had really
happened, everything was calm again.
People walking around outside didn’t even feel a thing and I guess the
higher up you were in a building the more you felt the movement. We are luckily on the fourth floor and
not any higher. I wouldn’t have
wanted to be visiting the Empire State Building that day.
After that, a hurricane
didn’t seem quite implausible… ludicrous, maybe, but not impossible. It seemed especially nuts when the
mayor made storm evacuations necessary and decided to shut down mass transit. It meant something and was a little
scary. My parents not afraid of a
little weather, especially considering all the tornadoes in the Midwest this
year went ahead with their trek, and we tried to make the most of it. Although I wanted to do lots of outdoor
activities, the real reason for the visit was to see Siena (and us) so as long
as we got to do things together it was okay.
The Friday they arrived was
nice and warm and sunny, the way an August Friday afternoon should be. While Brian and Siena entertained them,
visiting the High Line, an above ground bridge/railroad track running along a
portion of the West Side of the city recently turned into a park, I finished my
work week so we could go home and get ready for the weather craziness everyone
was talking about. Trying to leave
the city by regular means was an act of patience. What normally is an hour drive to get home along the West
Side Highway turned into a two-hour plus journey through the center of the city
along Broadway (the West Side Highway was ridiculously jammed) until we got up
past the George Washington Bridge and could escape Manhattan. Everyone had hurricane fever and it was
taking nearly an hour to get through tunnels and across the main bridges. The whole situation reeked of people
who had seen too many disaster films.
Saturday dawned with some
clouds and drizzle already beginning.
I had hoped to take a trip to Stone Barns that day, taking Siena to
visit all the animals and go for a walk through the woods. I called to see if they were open, but
was told in jest they were worried about flying sheep harming their guests and
had decided to remain closed to the public until the storm had passed. Strike one! Our plan B was to drive up north to West Point Military Academy to check out the grounds and museum. My step dad, Randy, was in the military and is quite the
weaponry buff. This seemed like an
interesting place to take him.
Most of the grounds are
closed to the public, but there is a visitor’s center and museum where you can
take self guided tours. Though the
visitor’s center didn’t hold a lot of interest for anyone, the war/military
museum had quite a few fascinating items, even for someone such as myself who
has never done more than shoot a bb gun as a kid (and even then I was afraid I
might actually kill something).
The museum had many paintings of famous generals depicted in battle
scenes; most were thoughtfully and carefully crafted. Several were so vibrant and full of color, discovering my
favorites oftentimes being created by French landscape painters of the 19th century. But one of the most
unexpected spaces was the basement.
The West Point basement is
full of big old guns, the kind you might find on a pirate ship or from the
civil war. Cannons of every shape
and size were represented along with several different tanks and a hydrogen
bomb. The old cannons fascinated
me most. The rustic quality and
worn down patina they had was somehow romantic. I’m sure the wars they were in weren’t particularly
charming, but thinking of the historic time frame in which they had taken place
had the nostalgic quality that gets me every time. Randy seemed to enjoy himself and we all learned a little
bit as we moved through the levels of corridors lined with guns and knives and
every sort of fighting device and uniform you can think of.
After that we made an
attempt to go shopping for baby clothes at the mall, but all the stores were
closing early so that the employees could get home before the curfew
began. We swung by the grocery
store on our way home, giving in somewhat to all the pandemonium being
proclaimed on the television and radio, stopping for emergency supplies in case
we lost power for several days and had to “rough” it. I have never seen the grocery store so full of people and
the shelves so empty. There
was hardly any bottled water to be found and the bread isle was just as
bleak. I began to think maybe I
should start cooking as much food as I could in preparation for an
onslaught. Our stove is gas, so I
figured should the power go out I would still be able to make things, and of
course bake. I wanted to be out of
the store, though, because all the panicked people were making me feel a little
nutty. I grabbed some essentials,
including a bag of the first round of golden New York apples arrived for the
pre-harvest season. You can always
bake something if you have a stocked pantry and some kind of fruit. I was set.
It’s good to start “apple
dessert” exploration a little early.
When the apples really start coming on in late September/early October
and there is an overabundance I find it nice to have a recipe or two at the
ready to know what to do with them.
I decided to get creative and paired the apples with grapes, making
individual apple grape crumbles, the topping studded with freshly grated nutmeg
and Chinese Five Spice powder.
Much to the excitement of everyone waiting out the storm, they were a
pleasant and fragrant distraction.
The recipe is as follows:
Ingredients:
For the fruit:
2 pounds Golden Delicious
apples, peeled, cored and sliced fairly thin (1/4 inch)
2 teaspoons grated lemon
zest (from one lemon)
2 tablespoons freshly
squeezed lemon juice (from one lemon)
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4-cup all-purpose flour
2 cups mixed red and green
grapes, sliced in half
For the crumble:
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2-cup light brown sugar,
lightly packed
1-teaspoon kosher salt
1/2-teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground
nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon Chinese
five-spice powder
1/4 pound (1 stick) cold
unsalted butter, diced
Preheat the oven to 350
degrees.
In a large bowl combine
sliced apples, lemon zest, lemon juice, granulated sugar, and flour. Toss well. Gently mix in the grapes. Allow the mixture to sit for 5 minutes. Spoon the mixture into ramekins or
custard cups (6 to 8 depending on the size).
For the topping, combine the
flour, granulated sugar, brown sugar, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, Chinese
five-spice powder, and the butter in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with
a paddle attachment. Mix on low
speed until the butter is the size of peas. Rub the mixture with your fingertips until it’s in big
crumbles, and then sprinkle evenly over the fruit. Place the ramekins on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper
and bake for 40 to 45 minutes, until the tops are browned and crisp and the
juices are bubbly. Serve warm or
at room temperature.
If you want to make these
early, store the unbaked crumbles in the refrigerator and bake before dinner.
Crumbles and cobblers are a
simple, easy to please dessert anyone can make. I know my parents like a good, traditional dessert and
though adding grapes seemed like a wacky thing to do, they really are a great
addition. The flavor, though not
quite like raisins, are also not quite “grape” either. Cooking the grapes enhances their flavor,
a slight caramelization taking place making it not the fruit it once was, but
something altogether different and refreshing. The spices in the topping speak to the fall season headed
our way. This is a perfect finish
to any meal that won’t keep you in the kitchen for long at all…especially if
you want to be glued to CNN waiting for your power to go out.
I was inspired and happened
to have the grapes on hand because of a bread I made earlier in the week. The September 2011 Everyday Food has a
recipe for Almond-Grape Tea Cake and the bread, which is studded with red and
green grape halves, looked very seventies to me. The vibrant color of the grapes against the golden crust had
a whimsical look, but also the controlled design of basic pattern making. I hadn’t previously used grapes in my
baking, but had noticed from time to time recipes for grape tarts or pies,
generally using grape jam as the filling or reducing the grapes in a saucepot
to make compote. Keeping the grape
halves intact was a simple twist and one I felt like exploring.
The bread is fairly dense
because of the large quantity of almonds used. They are ground up in a food processor along with sugar to
make what is essentially almond “flour”.
If you have ever tried to buy almond flour at the supermarket you know
that its expensive, and when it’s this easy to make your own I suggest doing it
if for no other reason than to save a little money for your pocket.
Both of these grape enhanced
desserts were very easy, and that’s the kind of recipes I like to go for when
I’m doing a weekend of entertaining.
The Barefoot Contessa is fond of saying “you and your guests won’t have
more fun if you spend the entire weekend in the kitchen preparing meals”, and
she’s right. Elegant dinners and
“fancy” desserts are often best left for big celebrations or small
get-togethers. Spending as much
time with your guests as possible while still offering simpler foods, lovingly
made is the best way to be hospitable.
So, while we munched on our dressed up pasta dishes and fruit crumbles
we obsessively watched the news and waited for mass destruction to fall upon
our heads. “Goodnight cruel
world”.
Almond-Grape Tea Cake (from Everyday Food, September 2011)
Ingredients:
10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks)
unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pan
1-cup all-purpose flour
(spooned and leveled), plus more for pan
3/4-cup sugar
3 large eggs
1 1/2 cups slivered almonds
(1/2 pound)
1/4-teaspoon fine salt
1-teaspoon pure vanilla
extract
1 1/2 teaspoons finely
grated lemon zest
18 grapes, halved crosswise
(red and green)
Preheat oven to 350
degrees. Lightly butter and flour
a 3-by-8-inch metal loaf pan. In a
large bowl, using n electric mixer, beat butter and 1/2 sugar on high until
light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Beat in eggs, one at a time, until combined, scraping down bowl as
needed. In a food processor, pulse
almonds and 1/4-cup sugar until finely ground. Add flour and salt and pulse to combine. With mixer on low, beat almond mixture
into butter mixture until combined.
Beat in vanilla and lemon zest.
Transfer batter to pan and
smooth top. Press grape halves
into batter in rows and bake until a toothpick inserted in center comes out
with a few moist crumbs attached, about 1 hour, rotating pan halfway
through. Let cake cool in pan on a
wire rack. To serve, remove cake
from pan and slice. (Store cooled cake, wrapped in plastic, at room temperature,
up to 3 days.)
We awoke to the sound of
wind and rain beating upon the windows, but it wasn’t nearly as loud as the air
conditioning units still running in the windows. We hadn’t lost power!!! Overnight the storm had been downgraded to “tropical” and our
house; being well above the river was taking no more of a beating than an
average heavy rain. We were
saved!!! And that’s good because
the people painting our house had literally finished up two days before.
Prior to the storm our house
was in desperate need of a facelift. If you own an old home then you understand the
maintenance and responsibility that comes along with becoming its
caretaker. There is a new project
constantly in need of doing, be it a simple update or replacing old wiring and
plumbing. We had put off painting
the house for a couple of years for the obvious reason of expense. An old Victorian has a lot of details
and in our case is extremely tall.
There were four colors on our little gingerbread house when we bought
it, but we decided to take it down to three to tighten things up a bit.
I’ve always liked the orange
of our house. I never imagined
myself living in an orange house with forest green trim, but it somehow
fits. Brian and I both have a
passion for grey and had been talking for some time about freshening up the
house, keeping the orange but punching it up a bit. The green trim made me feel like Hansel and Gretel might stop by at any moment to ask for a cookie to
which I would be forced in turn to bake them in my oven to keep in line with
the story, but replacing the green with grey seemed a clean, modern addition to
our home without losing the historic feel. It took the painting company nearly a month, on and off,
between rains and carpenters replacing rotted boards to pull off the feat. I absolutely love it!
Irene left “Charlotte”…the
name of our house…unscathed. I
found a few downed branches and green oak leaves were scattered all over the
back yard, but other than that we were none too worse for wear. Unfortunately I can’t say that for
everyone in towns surrounding us.
The family and I decided to get out of the house and go for a drive,
being released from lockdown by the town, to cure the mild stir-crazy feelings
that came from being stuck in the house for almost 24 hours. Plus, I was curious to see how bad
things really were. The news said
it may look nice outside right now, but it’s best to stay home and let clean-up
crews go about their business, especially with all the downed trees and
flooding going on. We, of course,
in a spirit of adventurousness ignored the news anchors we were so tired of
listening to and set off for adventure.
Driving north along the very
raised Hudson River we made our way past Peekskill and across Bear Mountain
Bridge. Our thought was to make
our way toward Beacon, a cute, artsy river town to see if any stores or
restaurants might be open. The
drive to the bridge is a beautiful and winding stretch of road leading into the
mountains and along the cliffs looking over the river. There is a great scenic area to stop
and look out at the water and farmland, also where you can catch a glimpse of
Indian Point nuclear power facility (not so glamorous). Waterfalls had sprung up everywhere as
if by magic, running down the sides of the cliffs overhanging the highway
causing us to feel like (according to Brian) we had entered an Irish Spring
commercial. The light from the sun
occasionally peaking through the still cloudy sky glinted off the water,
revealing sparkly mists as we drove by and underneath the flow.
Stopping at Fort Montgomery,
a small outpost/heritage site near the bridge, I got out to take a better look
at the water. A small trail led
down to a footbridge crossing the Hudson and leading off into the forest. Making my way down the trail was like
scaling a waterfall. The water was
pouring out from the ground, down the side of the hill, running off to catch
all it’s friends in the swiftly moving stream. Things didn’t look particularly bad from the footbridge but
the water was definitely rising.
Continuing north we finally
made it to a place where the road was closed and traffic was backing up. The radio had proclaimed many highways
and the interstate closed due to flooding. Turning around we thought to find an alternate route to
Beacon, but again no dice. Road
closed. Strike Two! We turned off into a small town with
the goal of getting some coffee before completely giving up our adventure and
returning home, but found the town had no power and a massive run-off stream
flowed through the center of it all as citizens gathered around to watch. It appeared as if only a short time
before the town’s Main Street had been under water. Strike three, you’re out!
The scene was much the same
all the way home. We tried a few
more alternate roads for a change of scenery but found bridges covered in water
and the small streams normally lapping lazily along the roads had overflowed
their banks placing forests in the middle of swiftly moving new rivers. It was pretty bad out there. As if to have one last hurrah, the wind picked up as Irene
left the area bringing down more branches and tipping over trees that had soft,
mushy soil running around their roots.
But, thankfully the storm went away leaving Ossining merely shaken up
and the train station a little worse for wear.
All the public
transportation in NYC came back online by Monday, but the Metro North train
lines hadn’t fared quite as well.
Between the absence of mass transit out of Ossining and most major
highways flooded leading into the city and my parents flight plans being moved
to the following day it seemed a good time to take a day off from work and
regroup. We chose to get out of
the house once more since the sun was out and about, a cool breeze blowing on a
beautiful August day. The highway
heading south was open, having been cleared of all the downed trees, and we
were able to make it to Tarrytown for lunch and a nice bit of
window-shopping. The Main Street
of Tarrytown is so cute with its antique shops, restaurants and a parlor full
of homemade ice cream. After such
a storm as this, I felt it necessary to distress with a loaded hot fudge
sundae.
The rest of my parents visit
was uneventful, in a good way…I mean how can you have much more going on than a
hurricane? Finishing off with a
late afternoon stroll through town and grilling a few hotdogs in the backyard
brought our number of outdoor activities to an acceptable level, alleviating my
cabin fever and weather disappointment once and for all. I think we made the best of the
situation and Siena got to have four people looking after her full-time instead
of two, something I know she loved.
It won’t be until November until she gets to see Grandma and Grandpa
again, but Thanksgiving will be here before you know it. If I’ve learned anything about having a
child it’s that time goes even faster than it ever did before. I’m looking forward to the milestones
ahead, but also already miss how teeny-tiny Siena was. She’s still small, no doubt, but her
personality is big. I wonder how
she comes by that? I think I have
a couple of guesses. It’s just who
I am.
Hudson appears to be very
well maintained, at least from the portion of the town we saw. All the buildings were cleaned up and
painted, window boxes full of flowers, friendly people all along the street,
endlessly idyllic and worth an extended stay. We stopped off at the local, homemade ice cream shop,
hilariously called Lick, for a sundae because that’s what you are supposed to
do when exploring cute hamlets. I
always try whatever kind of coffee ice cream I find and adding a little hot
fudge and whipped cream never hurts either. The family had their ice cream followed by a photo session
against a brilliant orange exterior of a building. I’m sure there was some kind of battle with the historical
society on that color, but obviously the creative party won out. I’m glad they did because the warm
sunny glow striking the acidic orange was such a cheerful site.
