artichoke and goat cheese strata

Lots of thanks to Maggie for starting us off!

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Some people say that artichokes are too much work to prepare and eat and then not worth all the effort.
I don’t care if I actually had to go scavenging for wild artichokes in a dark and woolly wilderness with a artichoke seeking warthog guide.  There is no challenge too great when artichoke is the reward.
Needless to say, I was down for this recipe.

Also?

Goat cheese?  Hullo?  Do you even know me?  (Ok, probably, you don’t know me.  Here’s a tip.  Maggie loves goat cheese.  Almost as much as artichokes.)

I don’t really know what a “strata” implies, but who cares.

So, without further ado….

Artichoke and Goat Cheese Strata from March’s Cooking Light

Prep Work: Pretty minimal.  Mincing up shallots, cutting up bread, and crushing the garlic were the most work-y bits.  Also, make sure to **defrost your artichokes, otherwsise you end up having to futz around defrosting them in the microwave.**
Overall Time: Long.  Cooks for 50 minutes, so is definitely not ideal for a weeknight quickie.
Difficulty: Totally easy.
Yum Factor: It was very good.  I would make again.
Serving Size: Since this said it would make 6 servings, but a serving was 286 calories, we made it 4 servings instead, which made for a completely satisfying meal.
Leftover Factor: Microwaving it for lunch the left day did not retain the slight crunchiness of the bread bits on top that had gotten toasted in the oven.  So it was missing that aspect, but otherwise still good.

Ingredients

• 1  teaspoon  olive oil
• 1/2  cup  finely chopped shallots (about 1 large)
• 16 ounces* of frozen artichoke hearts, thawed, and coursely chopped
• 2  garlic cloves, minced
• 1/2  teaspoon  dried herbs you have, like fennel seed, savory, and thyme (or herbes de provence if you roll that way)
• 1 3/4  cups  1% low-fat milk
• 1/2  teaspoon  freshly ground black pepper
• 1/4  teaspoon  salt
• 4  large eggs
• 1/3  cup  (about 1 1/2 ounces) grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
• about 5 cups of cubed bread loaf.  I used a hearty whole wheat.  5 cups was about half of the loaf.
• Cooking spray
• 3/4  cup  (3 ounces) crumbled goat cheese, divided

* The recipe calls for 10 ounces of artichoke heart, but the packages I found were 8 ounces, so I got two and then just included it all.  Seemed pretty good to me!

What to do with all those ingredients:
Heat oven to 375° and lightly spray an 8 x 8 inch ceramic/glass baking dish with cooking spray.

1.  Saute your minced shallots in a large frying pan over medium heat with your olive oil.

After about 2 minutes, when the shallots are getting a bit translucent, dump in the artichokes and garlic and stir those around a bit for another 8 minutes.  Take the pan off the heat and mix in your herbs.

2.  Whisk up your milk, eggs, salt and pepper in a large bowl.  Add in the parmigiano and the bread, and mix carefully so as to maintain your bread cubes.

Then, mix in the artichoke and shallots into the large bowl with the bread mixture.

3.  Put about half of the mixture into an 8 x 8 inch ceramic or glass baking dish.  Then layer in half of your goat, then the rest of the bread and artichoke stuff and then the rest of your goat cheese.

4.  Stick the dish in your 375° oven.  Go watch America’s Next Top Model.
Come back 50 minutes later.  There should be some toasty, crusty bits on the top.
Serve up into 4 servings  (roughly 430 calories.)

recipe signup!

I finally got my magazine in! Yay!

I’ve had several people say that they’re in, so I’m gonna start next week!

I’m hoping to post twice or three times a week.

Next week, I’m gonna make and post the White Pizza with Tomato and Basil (p. 46) on Thursday of next week. I’ll let y’all pick a recipe before I go claiming lots of others.

So, in the comments, leave what recipe you want to try and which week in March you want to post. I’ll get a calendar up when it starts to shape up a little.

I’m excited to get started!

cook with me!

The last month has been kinda busy, and I have a feeling March is gonna be similar. And I’m up to my elbows in fiction. So I thought that we’d have a magazine club instead of a book club in March!

I know it breaks with tradition. It’s not really a book, but it is food. So it qualifies, right?

It’s much less of a commitment, financially and emotionally. And so much fun.

Here’s what you do.

1. Go buy the lastest Cooking Light. (Or, if you’re like me, just wait and wait and wait for it to come in the mail even though you saw it at Barnes and Noble last week.)

2. Pick a recipe.

3. Make it! Either as published or (if you’re like me) with your own twists and turns.

4. Write a post about it. Take a few pictures. Shoot it to me in an email.

That’s it!

I’m hoping to have it in the next few days I’ll get the stinking magazine. I’ll create a list of recipes and a calendar for posting. Then you can just sign up!

Just go get the magazine already!

what’s next?

I’ve really enjoyed the last 2 books, but I’m kinda tired. And loving fiction.

I also don’t know how to keep momentum up. With both books, we’ve started so excited and then kinda puttered out.

I had an idea today. Since there is “food” in the title of the blog, what would you think about a cookbook for our next selection? We could each make something from each section….

Reactions?

Suggestions?

 

reaction and overview

You know, the more I process this book, the more I think about the size of things.

When I started this process of figuring out my story, I was expecting myself to make some huge all-encompassing life change. I thought I’d somehow find the funds to quit my job and open a coffee shop. I thought I’d have this huge emotional shift where suddenly everything would make sense and I’d be even more in love with my life.

But I’m starting to realize that my story, like everything else in my life, only moves along when I make the next best choice. And those choices don’t appear life-shattering when they happen. They appear like every other decision we make in our lives. I look at my central stories right now and their humble beginnings.

The decision to apply for a job.

The decision to start running.

The decision to be thankful.

The decision to finally not attach my self-worth to my size.

All decisions that almost seemed minor at the time, decisions that I didn’t know if I’d follow up with or be committed to. But these were decisions that stuck and completely changed the course of my story.

“When we look back on our lives, what we will remember are the crazy things we did, the times we worked harder to make a day stand out.” p. 208

I have a lot of days in my life that run together. I want to take the time to remember. I want to take the time to create adventure and wonder and memorable scenes. And, just as importantly, I want to be like Bob. To write down everything I remember. To remember the moments that define me, even the small ones. I want to not only be excited about the story that I’m telling, but to also remember the story that brought me to who I am today.

“But it’s like I said before, about writers not really wanting to write. We have to force ourselves to create these scenes. We have to get up off the couch and turn the television off, we have to blow up the inner-tubes and head to the river. We have to write the poem and deliver it in person. We have to pull the car off the road and hike to the top of the hill. We have to put on our suits, we have to dance at weddings.” p. 214

I think this is a great place to end up so close to the Lent season. I want to think about the distractions in my life and snuff them out. I want to play in the rain. I want to take risks as they present themselves. I want to be brave and seek adventure and make every day a day that propels my story forward.

And these things that propel my story? They don’t have to be grand gestures. I can go for a run. I can write a handwritten note. I can make a gift for a friend. I can continue to be thankful. I can follow through on my commitments. And guide my story, one day at a time.

What am I doing to make my story meaningful? Memorable? Am I living out my story every day? At every opportunity?

My greatest hope is that I can continue to stand before you and yell an emphatic “YES!”

Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. I am glad to call you friends.

chapter 34 – Afterword

I have absolutely fallen head-over-heels in love with book club. And with you guys. Here’s why:

“A good storyteller doesn’t just tell a better story, though. He invites other people into the story with him, giving them a better story too.” p. 236

This is what we’ve done here. We’ve created an arena where we’re involving each other in figuring out where our stories are going. We discuss it here. We discuss it on our blogs. We are exploring together. We are taking action together. And I love that.

As I look at the story I’m telling, I not only look at what story I want to write in my future but also what parts of my current story do I want to continue and what parts do I need to close already.

I think a large part of my story is my Thankful blog. (I know this is old material for most of you, but hang in here.) Every day, I post a picture on the blog and on facebook of something I am thankful for.  And I have been shocked at the reaction. People started thankful blogs of their own. And facebook blew up on me. I get comments and questions from people I haven’t spoken to in years. I get random “likes” from my parents’ friends. I’ve seen other people do similar projects. A friend of mine, who created a thankful album of her own, works at a local college and they created a Thankful group on facebook. A lot of people joined (over a thousand) and posted phrases or pictures of things they were thankful for in November. It blew me away.

I feel like I invited people into my story. I took a story that was dark and bleak and miserable and I created something beautiful. And I stay committed to that story. Because I never know who needs a reminder that day. I never know who I may strike a chord with.

How can you invite people into your story? Have you already started doing that? Have you felt vulnerable? What has that process been like for you?

chapters 31 – 33

“She was a terrific and deliberate woman.” p. 220

Now that is the story I want to tell. I want to be terrific and deliberate.

I don’t know what to say about the chapter about Jim’s wife, other than I read it over and over and over.

I don’t know what to say about this whole section. Other than it warmed my heart. And gave me hope and lit my passion. For a lot of things.

So what do you have to say?

 

chapters 28 – 30

We grow up in a world of fairy tales and false promises.

The handsome prince will ride up on his white horse and take me away from all the scary things in the forest.

The Occupational Outlook Handbook tells me that if I choose this career, I’ll be rich and comfortable.

If I perform the scheduled maintenance like my manual tells me to, my car will last forever.

If I follow the recipe, my bread will look just like the loaf in the picture.

But really? How often do things work out the way we thought they would?

I have to make compromises in my relationship and sometimes I’m the one saving him from the scary things in the forest. I’m in a completely different career than what my academic career prepared me for (and making no where near what the Occupational Outlook Handbook set me up for in 1996). We take good care of our car but the “service engine soon” light just won’t stay off. I have a problem getting bread to rise.

It’s just the way of the world.

I think there’s something in the Dane’s outlook on life that is very comforting to me, and is something I want to strive for.

“Ruling out financial success, physical health, and even social freedom, he landed on a single characteristic of the Danes that allowed them such contentment. The reason Danes are so happy was this: they had low expectations…There is something about Denmark’s culture that allows them to look at life realistically. They don’t expect products to fulfill them or relationships to end all their problems.” p. 202

This really got me thinking. About how opposite of the Danes I am sometimes. I used to think that if I only had a Frozen Mocha from Panera, all of my stress would magically disappear. If I would just be able to afford that expensive dress at Limited, I would magically be thinner and happier with my body. If I turn the car off and back on, the scary light on my dashboard might just go away. If I just had that new pair of shoes, I could run faster and farther.

I expected something other than me to be the answer to my problems. My natural inclination is to look outside rather than inside.

And if I do end up with my “magical fix” and it doesn’t fix the problem? I feel cheated and duped and even worse. And usually guilty for giving in to something I didn’t need, something I knew wasn’t a solution but I tried it anyway. Blame it on lack of self-responsibility or hours of advertisement I have seen over the course of my 33 years. But my initial reaction is to expect stuff to fix my problems, to cure my stress, to alleviate my boredom.

I also expect that if I follow an equation, I should end up with the same result as someone else. If I eat according to someone else’s plan, I should lose the same weight she does. If I follow a plan for running, I should be able to complete a race with ease. If I have this level of education, I should have a job with a certain salary. If I want a baby (and am doing the things to make a baby), I should have a baby.

When maybe what I need to do (again, going back to Women Food and God) is learn how to be comfortable with my feelings. How to not expect food or clothes to fix what is wrong. How to realize that we all live individual stories and my life map doesn’t look like anyone else’s. Or to recognize that what I’m calling “wrong” is actually just part of the human condition. Will I ever completely escape boredom or stress or fear? Will I ever feel like there are things I want that I don’t have? No. I just need to stop expecting them to go away. I need to stop expecting stuff to fix them. I need to become comfortable and accepting of them and continue along my merry way.

Do you let expectations get in the way of your happiness or your story? How do you avoid bitterness when things don’t work out the way you think they should?

chapters 25 – 27

I get tired sometimes.

I get tired of cooking. I get tired of running. I get tired of blogging. Thankfully I’m in the middle of an energetic season right now, but I realize it won’t always be this way. There will be a time when I want to quit my story. Not because I’m afraid or hurt, but just because I’m tired. Because the finish line seems so far away. Because all I really want to do is anything else.

We’ve all been there, right? 4 miles into a 5 mile run and I am just done. 80% done with my weekend cooking marathon and suddenly I don’t want to see another egg or measure anything else. Elbow-deep in an emotionally-messy blog post and I just don’t want to write anymore. Halfway to my monthly savings goal and suddenly that dress at Limited just screams my name. I want to quit. Not because of self-doubt, but because I’m tired of my story. Because I’m exhausted. Because it has been too hard for too long and I’m just done. Because I just don’t want to do it anymore.

I think exhaustion and frustration are just as hard to fight through as fear and self-doubt. Fear keeps me from starting things, but exhaustion keeps me from finishing them. And the only way I have found to make myself finish? Share my frustration. Get encouragement. Enlist the help of others.

“If it weren’t for the other guys in the kayak, I would have quit that night.” p. 181.

The only way I have found to defeat exhaustion is through accountability. Sometimes its is accountability to myself and sometimes it is accountability to other people. When I tell someone that I have a goal and I’m going to take these steps to get it done within this timeframe, I’m more likely to do it. Because I don’t want to disappoint and because I want to make good on my word. Unlike Don’t situation, the people in my life don’t depend on me following through. If I don’t make it through my cooking for the week, we can eat out. If I don’t finish my run, no one suffers. But sharing my goals makes them more real. Writing them where others can read commits me. I need accountability even if no one notices if I don’t follow through.

I’ve also learned that if I push through the exhaustion, things get easier. I’ve been half a mile into a run and believe I can’t go any farther, and the next thing I know, I’ve run 5. I’ve been irritated that I’m not making much progress on my knitting and then I look down and it’s taking serious shape. I’ve taken time away from my blog and then suddenly all I want to do is write.

“It’s like this with every crossing, and with nearly every story too. You paddle until you no longer believe you can go any farther. And then suddenly, well after you thought it would happen, the other shore starts to grow and it grows fast. The trees get taller and you can make out the crags in the cliffs, and then the shore reaches out to you, to welcome you home, almost pulling your boat onto the sand.” p. 182

Do you struggle with exhaustion? What tools have you found to help through those times? (I need some variety!)

 

chapters 22 – 24

I’m going to break with the order of the book a little. First I want to say that I loved meeting Bob. I was kinda annoyed at the things that he and his children are able to do with his extreme wealth, but at the same time floored by the way he uses it to make an impact on people. The jumping in the water thing made me want to find something that I can do as a host to reach out and make visits to my home meaningful and memorable. That’s not what I’m writing about today, but it’s still something that’s floating around in my head.

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“But I still didn’t think I was ready.” p. 135

Self-doubt is an ugly monster. And being ready is something I rarely feel. Even when I have a detailed list and know I’ve got all the ingredients, I fear that I’ll get halfway into a recipe and find out that I didn’t bring home eggs (even though they are on my list and crossed off). Even though I train and train and train for races, when I’m standing there at the start line, I’m always thinking that I’m not ready. That I haven’t prepared enough. That maybe I should have put this off.

I truly believe that a lot of what holds me back is fear. Sometimes the fear is logical (how could I make this happen financially? what would we do with the cats? where would I put that?), but a lot of times, fear is self-doubt. This recipe looks too hard for me. I can’t run a race in Cincinnati, it is way too hilly. I’ll never get that job so I won’t even apply. I won’t get what I want, so why even start the conversation?

And when I do somehow drown out the voice of doubt and try something new, the road will eventually get bumpy. I’ll bonk out on a run. My bread won’t rise. The application will require more than I had anticipated. The conversation will get heated.

I guess I was right. I wasn’t ready for that challenge.

And what do I want to do then? Stop. Just stop. Take the easy way out. Throw my goal out the window and forget about it. Just stop. There are some things that come easy for me, but it seems like the things I really want are things I have to fight for. I hate to run when it’s hot and this winter has made for horrible sidewalk conditions so running has felt like a chore for a while. I want to be in a better financial place but it’s hard to deny myself the things I feel like I deserve. I want to be smaller, but I work so hard and feel like I’m spinning my wheels.

“The story made us different characters than we would have been if we had skipped the story and showed up at the ending in an easier way.” p. 143

I loved Donald talking about climbing the Inca Trail. They could have gone an easier way, but would it have meant as much?

Would running half-marathons be as rewarding if the training was easy?

Would I celebrate my skinny jeans if it’d taken me 2 months to get there instead of 2 years?

Would my savings balance be as exciting if I hadn’t sacrificed to make it happen?

Would a promotion mean as much if I just got it because no one else applied?

Would my story be as interesting or as rewarding if I was taking things easy or taking shortcuts?

What am I avoiding because it is too scary or too messy or seems like it would take too long? Or because I think I’m just not ready?

I’ll answer in the comments later.