Lemon Dill Potato Salad

Growing up in Smalltown, USA, there are things that inevitably made their way into my life, for better or worse. I've been told before that tiny towns every where are exactly the same. There are certain staples that you would find in Podunk, Oregon that would also surface in Backwoods, Louisiana. From one small town to another, you'll find friendly faces, neighborhood block parties, a crunchy vernacular and staple foods.

It seems that in any small town gathering, at any neighborhood cookout and at 4th of July and Memorial Day, Labor Day and summer BBQs around the country, you'll find tables laden with flavors of Americana. Apple Pie. Burgers. Hot dogs. Macaroni and cheese. Corn on the cob. Berry cobblers. I can get behind most of these things (ok, except the ones made with meat). But there is one cook out staple that I will never understand: potato salad--the mayonnaisey, creamy, buttery kind. How do people eat that? I mean, if that was the flavor and texture you wanted, why not just squirt some mayo on a celery stick, ants on a log style, and go to town? That's basically what you're getting.

Even in my days (ok, decades) as a fat kid, I never loved the flavor of mayo, whether it was smeared on a sandwich or dolloped all over perfectly good potatoes or macaroni. As I've learned to cook, and been able to tailor my dishes to flavors that I like, I've been able to experiment and create--much to the joy of my tastebuds (and the scale).

So, while this recipe may contradict all the things we know about what potato salad is, that doesn't make it any less delicious. I've learned, especially in the last few months, that the commonly accepted prescription for "perfect" isn't always right. Sometimes you have to take what works and run with it--whether it follows your timeline, schedule or BBQ checklist, or not. When it works, it works, right? Don't question it. Just love it.

Lemon Dill Potato Salad

Adapted from Food Magazine

2 pounds rainbow potatoes (regular ones work too, but the colored ones are so much more fun)
1 cup celery, diced
1 cup red onion, diced
1 lemon's zest
2 tablespoons capers
2 cups kale, deribbed and sliced into ribbons
2 tablespoons garlic, minced
1/4 cup olive oil
3 tablespoons lemon juice
2 teaspoons dill (fresh preferred)
1 teaspoon smoked sea salt
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1. Heat water to a boil.
2. Wash and cut potatoes to uniform size, about 1/4 inch thick.
3. Boil potatoes until they are tender. Drain and transfer to a bowl.
4. Stir the celery, onion, capers and kale into the potatoes.
5. Whisk together the remaining ingredients.
6. Drizzle the lemon and olive oil mixture over the potato mixture. Toss to evenly coat.
7. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Best Ever Blueberry Muffins

Growing up in the backwoods in Oregon, I wanted nothing more than to get out of town, grow the hell up and never look back. While I had cherished my summers, sprinting barefoot through my backyard, blonde hair wild and pale skin rosy with sunburn and scattered with freckles, I had grown tired with the pace of small town life. The Umpqua Valley felt smothering and the expectations folks held for high school graduates were depressing. I desperately wanted to do more than work at the Mill, the casino or follow my peers off to University of Oregon or Oregon State. I have vivid memories of flipping through college guidebooks as a freshman, fantasizing about how different my life would be in just a few short years. 

Never did I imagine the kind of “different” I would experience. Moving from a small, sheltered community to the San Diego State University campus was nothing short of culture shock. The student enrollment at SDSU almost doubled my hometown’s population. Gone were my easy days of navigating Garden Valley, Harvard and Stephens surface streets. SDSU was perched atop a tangle of freeways, all of which had more lanes in either direction than anything I had ever driven on. Walking down the hallway of my third floor traditional style dorm, I came across kids from Singapore, Alaska, Washington, Colorado and cities and towns up and down California. I was suddenly very far removed from the townies and monotony of my little logging town.

As my time at State wore on, I got used to the vast array of differences. People snickered when I let a “y’all” slip into my speech. Flip flops were appropriate footwear year round. It was normal to drink a beer before heading to class. And despite my previous desperation to distance myself from home, I frequently found myself longing for the familiarity. Seeing an Oregon license plate, or a U of O shirt, or even the occasional rainstorm, flooded me with memories of the good things that home had given me. I definitely missed home, but I was proud of myself for carving out a niche in this new (HUGE) world. I survived my freshman year without major incident, despite my parents’ messy divorce, a bout with blindness and a roommate with a penchant for Marines.

After nearly ten years in San Diego, I’ve realized I have so many things to thank Oregon for. I appreciate nature. I have a deep love for all things tie dye. I know how to drive a stick shift. I can bait a hook, clean a fish, pitch a tent and pee in the bushes. These are all valuable life skills, of course. San Diego, on the other hand, has helped me grow. I’ve made the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Been adopted into their families and welcomed into their homes. I’ve found love, and lost it again. I’ve learned perseverance, tenacity and strength. I’ve learned that a little blind faith and some reckless ambition can take you a long way—and that the journey is just as important as the destination.

The path to where I am now has been a meandering one. I have been lost, despite always having a vague idea of where I am going. Along the way I have accumulated memories, experiences and friendships that have helped me get where I am today. Deep down, I know I’ll always be the barefoot blonde, running through the grass, covered in freckles and pink with sunburn. I’ll never lose the part of me that Oregon created—the part that hates blueberries, loves peace signs and is always down for a little country music. San Diego has simply added a bit of sand to my country grit, a little more glamour to my redneck ways and a much greater appreciation (and application) for sunscreen.

I’ll never let go of all the things that make me a real country girl at heart, but I know that I’ve found my place in San Diego. Nothing in my life, this far, has gone as planned, but it’s all turned out perfectly. At times, it feels like an absolute mess… But I know what I have on my hands is simply a beautiful disaster—full of potential, possibilities and promise. I just have to figure out what to do with it.

When I first found the recipe that these muffins are based on, I dismissed it. If you know the backstory, you know that I am not a fan of blueberries. But, when I started thinking about ways I could tweak the recipe to make it more my style (and more my taste), I realized there was some potential there. So while they may seem like a basic blueberry muffin, chances are... they'll blow your mind.   

Best Ever Blueberry Muffins

Adapted from allrecipes.com

The best blueberry muffin you will ever have. Promise.

Ingredients

Muffins

1.5 cups flour

¾ cups white sugar

½ teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 egg

1/3 cup whole milk

1.5 cups fresh blueberries

1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons lemon zest

Topping

½ cup white sugar

1/3 cup flour

¼ cold butter, cubed

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon cardamom

½ teaspoon lemon zest

Procedure

1.    Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C). Grease muffin cups or line with muffin liners. Spray the top of the pan with cooking spray! These muffins are BIG and you don’t want the tops to stick to the pan.

2.    Combine 1 1/2 cups flour, 3/4 cup sugar, salt and baking powder. Place vegetable oil into a 1 cup measuring cup; add the egg and enough milk to fill the cup. Mix this with flour mixture. Fold in blueberries, lemon juice and zest. Fill muffin cups right to the top.

3.    To Make Crumb Topping: Mix together 1/2 cup sugar, 1/3 cup flour, 1/4 cup butter, and 1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon. Mix with fork, and sprinkle over muffins before baking.

4.    Sprinkle generous spoonfuls of the topping onto each muffin.

5.    Bake for 20 to 25 minutes in the preheated oven, or until muffin tops spring back when pressed. 

Taste of Summer: Lemon Meringue

When the housing plots in my neighborhood were developed, there were certain things that stayed consistent from lot to lot. Because there was a single builder who did most of the homes in the area, many of the homes are structurally similar--having only changed through remodels and additions over the years. The landscaping on many of the plots was similar, too--certain kinds of trees, plants, etc. One thing most of the homes had in common was some kind of fruit tree...

That is, of course, except for my house. Ok... That's not entirely true. There are three unidentified fruit trees in my back yard, but they don't produce anything--other than frustration. I planted a lemon tree, as well, but it has yet to give me any lemons. I'm determined, though. Someday, my baking needs will be fulfilled by my own plants!

But for now, I rely on my giving friends, who have more fruit than they know what to do with. I hoard lemons and lemons (and eggs, actually) from fellow teachers who have an abundance--or no use for the little produce that they have. And in return, I bake delicious things that then reside in our teachers' lounge. It's pretty much a win-win for everyone involved.

Lemon meringue has always been one of my favorite desserts. And also one that always intimidated me. But I've realized that, with a trusty kitchen aid mixer, it's not hard at all. It just takes some patience and some practice. And having churned out about half a dozen lemon meringue pies in the last two months or so, I can say I think I've perfected a recipe.

Lemon Meringue Pie

adapted from Allrecipes.com

You can also pipe on the meringue, using an icing bag and whatever tip tickles your fancy.

• 1 cup white sugar
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 3 tablespoons cornstarch
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 1/2 cups water
• 3 lemons, juiced and zested
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 4 egg yolks, beaten
• 1 (9 inch) pie crust, baked
• 4 egg whites
• 6 tablespoons white sugar

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. To Make Lemon Filling: In a medium saucepan, whisk together 1 cup sugar, flour, cornstarch, and salt. Stir in water, lemon juice and lemon zest... Don't worry if you get a little pulp in there, too. It makes it that much more delicious!
3.  Cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, until mixture comes to a boil. Stir in butter. Place egg yolks in a small bowl and gradually whisk in 1/2 cup of hot sugar mixture. Whisk egg yolk mixture back into remaining sugar mixture. Bring to a boil and cook while stirring constantly until thick. Remove from heat. 
4. Pour filling into baked pastry shell. (Don't forget to poke holes in the shell before you bake it)
5. With your mixer, whip egg whites until foamy. Add sugar gradually, and continue to whip until stiff peaks form. Spread meringue over pie, sealing the edges at the crust.
6. Bake in preheated oven for 10 minutes, or until meringue is golden brown.