102
" I fill Grant in on my boring day of bids, the embarrassment of the staff meeting where Murph called me out for signing off on the Rick Bayless restaurant bathrooms without noticing that we installed the women's room door on the men's bathroom. "Apparently our little Anneke can pee in a urinal with no problem, so it didn't occur to her that the other ladies might not have such great aim." This was received with a roomful of laughter, and Liam jumped right in. "Well, she does have bigger balls than you, Murph." It took five minutes before everyone stopped laughing and poking fun, and I sat there smiling and chuckling as if it didn't matter. And then I said that my balls were perfectly delicate and ladylike, but my dick was definitely bigger than Murph's, and the room went totally silent in that way where you can almost hear the needle scratching violently across the record, and he glared at me and curtly told me to get the hell over there and fix it and apologize to Rick for the error. Lucky for me, Rick Bayless is a very kind gent, and pals with Grant, so we laughed about it and he made a delicious torta that he has been experimenting with and we split it and talked about Grant's new place, and he sent me off with a bag of warm churros, so the day was somewhat saved. "
― Stacey Ballis , Recipe for Disaster
104
" I guide Delia through the slaw: green cabbage with fennel and green apple and a light dressing of rice wine vinegar, sugar, lime juice, canola oil, and caraway seeds. Kai makes the butternut squash with applesauce, nutmeg, grains of paradise, and cinnamon. I work on a light pasta salad that I have been playing with, orecchiette pasta with white beans, chopped celery, green peas, and feta in red wine vinaigrette with fresh oregano. The case gets filled, Kai takes off, the doors get opened, and we begin to serve customers. While Delia takes a phone order, I head into the kitchen and take the brisket out of the oven. It is mahogany brown and juicy, and perfumes the kitchen immediately, the scent wafting out into the store.
"What is that smell?" Delia says, eyes closing, inhaling deeply.
"That, is hope," I say. "
― Stacey Ballis , Good Enough to Eat
107
" He opens a lower cabinet to reveal that it is a mini fridge, and brings over two plates that each have a slice of what looks like flan, dark at the top from being baked with caramel.
He hands me a plate and fork, and pours me a glass of wine.
I take a bite. And my eyes snap open.
"Gateau de semoule?" I say in disbelief.
"Mais oui, mademoiselle, bien sur." He smiles. "I thought you might like it."
"I adore it. And I haven't had it in years." The very French dessert is essentially baked creme caramel-type custard, thickened with semolina for an amazing texture and added nuttiness. There are juicy golden raisins, which I believe he has soaked in rum, and the caramel you make for the bottom of the baking dish turns itself into a light sauce when you unmold it. It is the kind of dessert that any French maman would make on a weeknight for dessert. Unfunny, unfussy, and completely comforting and delicious. "
― Stacey Ballis , Out to Lunch
108
" On the coffee table is a bottle of Madeira, a plate of dark chocolates, a bowl of tiny tangerines. He opens a lower cabinet to reveal that it is a mini fridge, and brings over two plates that each have a slice of what looks like flan, dark at the top from being baked with caramel.
He hands me a plate and fork, and pours me a glass of wine.
I take a bite. And my eyes snap open.
"Gateau de semoule?" I say in disbelief.
"Mais oui, mademoiselle, bien sur." He smiles. "I thought you might like it."
"I adore it. And I haven't had it in years." The very French dessert is essentially baked creme caramel-type custard, thickened with semolina for an amazing texture and added nuttiness. There are juicy golden raisins, which I believe he has soaked in rum, and the caramel you make for the bottom of the baking dish turns itself into a light sauce when you unmold it. It is the kind of dessert that any French maman would make on a weeknight for dessert. Unfancy, unfussy, and completely comforting and delicious. "
― Stacey Ballis , Out to Lunch
109
" Brian orders us both Grandpa's Turtle Sundaes, a classic with vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, caramel sauce, whipped cream and nuts, topped with a house-made turtle candy instead of a cherry. Sigh. So much for getting out of the elastic waistband pants anytime soon.
But the thing is, it works. Decadent, insane, over the top, but so freaking delicious. Cold ice cream, fluffy whipped cream, the mingling richness of fudge and caramel, perfectly tempered with the salt and crunch of toasted pecans and peanuts. A weirdly perfect food. "
― Stacey Ballis , Out to Lunch
111
" I have clients that feel like family, I make far more money than I've got a right to, considering the workload, and I have amazing benefits. What could be bad?"
"I suppose I meant if you are satisfied creatively."
I'd never really thought about that. The Farbers give me free rein, but they have a repertoire of my dishes that they love and want to have regularly in the rotation, and everything has to be kid friendly; even if we are talking about kids with precocious tastes, they are still kids. Lawrence is easy: breakfasts, lunches, and healthy snacks for his days; he eats most dinners out with friends, or stays home with red wine and popcorn, swearing that Olivia Pope stole the idea from him. And I'm also in charge of home-cooked meals for Philippe and Liagre, his corgis, who like ground chicken and rice with carrots, and home-baked peanut butter dog biscuits. Simca was a gift from him, four years ago. She was a post-Christmas rescue puppy, one of those gifts that a family was unprepared for, who got left at a local shelter where Lawrence volunteers. He couldn't resist her, but knew that Philippe and Liagre barely tolerate each other, and he couldn't imagine bringing a female of any species into their manly abode. Luckiest thing that ever happened to me, frankly. She's the best pup ever. I named her Simca because it was Julia Child's nickname for her coauthor Simone Beck. She is, as the other Eloise, my own namesake, would say, my mostly companion. Lawrence's dinner parties are fun to do- he always has a cool group of interesting people, occasionally famous ones- but he is pretty old-school, so there isn't a ton of creativity in those menus, lots of chateaubriand and poached salmon with the usual canapés and accompaniments. "
― Stacey Ballis , How to Change a Life
112
" I watched as Ian pulls the cooked squash out of the oven and drops it on the part of the cooktop that is currently not in use to let it cool for a moment while he mixes honey vinegar and a touch of brown sugar into thick crème fraîche, tasting along the way with the spoons I keep in a little cup on the stovetop. Satisfied with the crema, he turns back to the food processor, where he has chopped the pistachios, shallots, olives, and herbs, and empties out the contents into a bowl, adding a splash of the honey vinegar, a pinch of red pepper flakes, and a healthy glug of olive oil. He tastes, adds salt and a good grinding of black pepper, tastes again, and nods, pleased with himself.
"Ten minutes to go," I say, checking my phone. "Keep talking me through things."
Ian reaches for a large flour tortilla and places it in a dry nonstick skillet. "I'm going to assemble the quesadilla now," he says, sprinkling shredded fontina cheese over the whole surface of the tortilla. He dots the shredded cheese with small bits of fresh goat cheese. "I'm using fontina because it melts well and is mild, and some chèvre for a bit of punch and creaminess. Now the pork." He has sliced the pork thin, and layers it over the cheeses, following with cubes of the roasted squash. "
― Stacey Ballis , How to Change a Life
114
" Volnay is prancing, head up proudly; her squat little bowlegs producing a smooth gait that would make the dog show people preen. She carries herself like a supermodel. Weiner dog or no, she is a fairly perfect specimen of her breed. And I know I'm supposed to be all about the rescue mutts, and I give money to PAWS every year, but there is something about having a dog with a pedigree that makes me smile. Her AKC name is The Lady Volnay of Cote de Beaune. The French would call her a jolie laide, "beautiful ugly," like those people whose slightly off features, sort of unattractive and unconventional on their own, come together to make someone who is compelling, striking, and handsome in a unique way. I'm always so proud that I'm her person. "
― Stacey Ballis , Out to Lunch
116
" Andrea is coming to pick me up in about thirty minutes to head to her folks' house for Thanksgiving. I've got buttery yeast rolls from Aimee's mom's old family recipe, my cranberry sauce with port and dried cherries, and a batch of spicy molasses cookies sandwiched with vanilla mascarpone frosting. I also have the makings for dried shisito peppers, which I will make there. Andrea's mom, Jasmin, is making turkey and ham, and braised broccoli and an apple pie, Andrea is doing a potato and celery root mash and a hilarious Jell-O mold that contains orange sherbet and canned mandarin oranges and mini marshmallows, and her dad, Gene, is making his mother's candied yams and sausage corn bread stuffing. Benji is cooking and serving most of the day at the group home where he grew up, and will come join us for dessert, bringing his chocolate pecan pie with bourbon whipped cream. "
― Stacey Ballis , Out to Lunch
118
" This year I am doing praline pecans, an old favorite family favorite, easy and addictive. And a festive holiday dark chocolate loaf cake, with pistachios and dried cherries and white chocolate chips.
I get out my huge seven-quart KitchenAid mixer, and head to the basement, where I have ten pounds of gorgeous halved pecans in the chest freezer, and a pallet of organic eggs from Paulie's Pasture in the commercial refrigerator I use for entertaining and overflow. Upstairs, I focus on separating eggs, reserving the yolks for making pasta or custard later. Beating whites, melting butter, I can feel my shoulders unclench as the scent of toasted sugar pecans caramelizing fills the house. "
― Stacey Ballis , Out to Lunch
120
" In ten minutes I am at the massive Whole Foods on Kingsbury. I go to the salad bar. I fill containers with carrots, celery, sliced onions, shredded cabbage, chopped tomatoes. Garbanzo beans and corn. Shredded chicken, peas, chopped cauliflower, and broccoli. Baby spinach leaves. Cooked barley. I check out, with my three salad bar containers, and head back toward home. I stop at La Boulangerie and pick up a baguette. I get home and don't even take my coat off. I get out one of my big stock pots, and dump all three containers into the pot. From the pantry, a jar of Rao's marinara. From the freezer, a container of homemade chicken stock. I don't even bother to thaw it, I just plop it like an iceberg into the pot. Salt, pepper, and pepper flakes for heat. I crank the heat to medium, give it a stir and leave it. "
― Stacey Ballis , Out to Lunch
