Why Care About Celery Soup?

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Indeed. Unless you grew up with your mom cranking open that can of Campbell's (all WASPs please raise your hands), why would you care about celery soup? I'll tell you why: because Thanksgiving just happened.
But Tory, you say, I didn't serve celery soup for Thanksgiving!
Of course you didn't. Nobody does (until you've tried mine). No no, you care because if we are anything alike, your celery sits in the crisper after you use the three stalks needed for Thanksgiving and slowly rots until you throw it away in mid-December.
Happy Holidays.
In this time of recession and hungry people, I feel extra guilt for wasting food. This is my humble answer to what to do with that celery.
Because you can only eat so many ants on a log.

(Leftover) Celery Soup
This recipe originated from The Moosewood Cookbook. It was vegetarian and a bit bland for my taste, but I'm grateful to Mollie Katzen for getting this soup party started. It's low calorie, not that it matters- you're already beautiful! But it's a warming, healthy soup in the midst of our season of over-indulging. I'll give you the recipe, then the prep photos.
Serves 6

2 tbs. butter
1 cup finely minced onion
4 1/2 cups celery, divided: 4 cups in 1-inch chunks, 1/2 cup chopped very fine
2 tsp. salt, divided
1 tsp. celery seed
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
2 tbs. dry white wine (dry vermouth works in a pinch)

3 cups low-sodium chicken stock
1 big Yukon Gold potato, peeled and diced
dash nutmeg

1 cup milk
2-3 tbs. Greek yogurt or sour cream
white pepper to taste
2 tbs. minced fresh parsley or snipped chives

In large pot over medium-high heat, melt butter. Add onion, 1/2 cup finely minced celery, celery seed, ground coriander and 1/2 tsp. salt. Saute about 8 minutes, or until vegetables are golden and just tender. Add wine; stir until evaporated, about 30 seconds. Set vegetable mixture aside in bowl.

In same pot, bring chicken stock to boil. Add 4 cups celery in 1-inch chunks, potato, remaining 1 1/12 tsp. salt and pinch nutmeg. Return to boil, then lower heat and cover. Simmer about 18 minutes, or until potato is easily pierced with fork. Transfer to blender or food processor. Puree, in batches if necessary. Return to pot with reserved vegetable mixture.

Whisk in milk, yogurt, and salt and white pepper to taste. Serve warm and garnish with chopped fresh herbs.

And now the pictures!

I love beautiful prep:


Very finely chopped, indeed.


Go, celery, go!


Never fill your blender more than 2/3 full. TRUST ME.


Ahhhh. So lovely. I forgot the garnish and it's still delicious.

Beans of Love

Dear reader, I have discovered a true love potion. It was not what I imagined, not at all my vision of oil of rose and powder of dove with a pinch of mystery mixed under the light of the full moon.

Turns out it's Baked Beans.

I know, I felt the same way. If you told me Boston Baked Beans paved the road to true love, I would've refused to date you. But hear me out: on 4th of July, my boyfriend and I went to his mom's house to celebrate the holiday with the fam. My contribution was homemade Boston Baked Beans, prepared in my slowcooker from scratch. It's a dish I feel all native Californians could learn more about; I was doing my part. They were a hit; I made them with turkey bacon because his family is 'healthy'~ they can't help it, they're from here~ and the beans turned out nicely balanced between sweet and savory with a teensy kick from the cider vinegar to keep it interesting.

When the festivities ended, he and I headed to the LBC (Long Beach, that is) to see if we could catch the fireworks down by the water. Snoop Dogg blaring, wheels bouncing, we finally made it off the 710 to discover the cops were blocking all roads into the LBC. I guess the party reached capacity.
"Why don't we drive up the coast and try to find another spot by the water where we can watch fireworks," he suggested. He's not usually a 'let's go to the ocean' kind of guy, but I love to be by the water and it wasn't that late. Why not? As we drove the cars thinned out and the surroundings became increasingly suburban. We ended up somewhere in Palos Verdes, and I thought, 'We're lost. He has no idea where he's going. It's getting late, the fireworks are done for tonight.' I looked at the clock and decided I'd go another ten minutes before saying, 'Baby, I'm tired. Can we go home?'
30 seconds later we pulled off the side of the road onto a bluff overlooking the ocean. There were no streetlights. In the moonlight the ocean was vast and black, and when we looked up the stars shone brilliantly where the water began. We pointed out the few constellations we knew, "Is that w-shaped one the crab?" and then fell into silence.
He turned to me after a few moments and said, "Tory, I'm so glad we're best friends," and I answered, "I know, this last year has been wonderful with you Adam. I'm so glad we found each other."
Pop! About 50 yards away there was a hiss and crack as a wily teenager set off two elaborate (and illegal) glorious purple fireworks. We both were stunned and still for a few seconds as the lavender lights faded. As I turned I said, "Wow, I guess we got fireworks after all," and there he was on one knee, ring in hand.
"Tory Davis, will you marry me?" Before I could respond he jumped up and said, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you!" My hand shook as I said, "Nothing would make me happier."
We spent the rest of the evening tearing up and making out. I feel like we said our vows that night, in between weeping and kissing.


So here is my favorite photo of us, and the recipe for slow-cooked Boston Baked Beans. They taste best the day after you make them. I can't guarantee they'll bring you love, but it worked for me!

Beans of Love
serves 6 as a side dish

2 cups dried great Northern beans (they're white in the bag)

2 strips thick-cut bacon, sliced into thin strips (I like Niman Ranch)
1 small white or yellow onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
5 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup dark molasses
1/2 cup maple syrup, ideally B grade
1 bay leaf
1 tbs. dry mustard
1 tsp. fresh minced ginger
pinch ground cloves

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
2 1/2 tsp. salt

Rinse and sort beans. Soak overnight in enough water to cover, or pour boiling water to cover and let sit for an hour. (Or do neither and just let them cook longer at the end.) Drain.
Saute bacon, onion and garlic in slow-cooker until bacon is crisp and onion is soft. Add beans, water, molasses, maple syrup, bay leaf, dry mustard, ginger and ground cloves. Cover; cook 6 to 8 hours on medium until beans are tender.
Stir in cider vinegar and salt; cook at least a half hour more, until beans are tender and tasty.
Serve immediately, or the next day when they'll taste much better.

A Spot of Tea? or June: TTM, Part II

Dear reader, at long last, please enjoy this photo essay of the lovely English Tea I catered for the bridal shower my talented friend Debora threw! Her daughter was about to wed and move to London-town, so they wanted a traditional tea in the English style. Debora is of Mexican descent, and many of la familia and guests had never experienced the joys of tea sandwiches. Ay dios mio! So I made elegant cucumber and very pretty smoked salmon treats, using the only rye bread worth eating in L.A. (how I long for the fanatastic Jewish baking of my youth):
I also created super-girly strawberry and coconut tea sandwiches cut in the shape of flowers, naturally.
Mmm, and worth a mention was the fantastic fruit salad of Honeydew, Mango and Raspberries with Lime and Ginger. I've noticed when trying out the foods of another culture that though novelty is exciting, we all do better when there are also a few familiar elements. I found this recipe (thanks Cook's Illustrated) and thought, perfect! Mango and lime will be comfortable ingredients. And look at how beautifully it turned out! That is some sexy summer fruit.
I try not to overextend myself, so I hired my exceptionally gifted baker-friend LeeAnn to make chocolate-cherry and pear-ginger scones, as well as raspberry-marzipan and lemon-poppy muffins. Sweet Lord. (Those are my delicate cucumber sandwiches in the background. The secret is to mix in the tiniest bit of blue cheese, it makes them mysteriously interesting.) I find great eating (and catering) is often in the details: for this event I served only decadent Irish butter for smearing on the scones and muffins. Though these touches directly subtract from the bottom line (American butter is so much cheaper!), it's this attention to delicious, best-quality ingredients that differentiate good from f***ing fantastic. Why put in all that effort to turn out merely "acceptable" food? When people take a bite and I see their eyes pop out of their head because they didn't know it could taste so amazing, then I am successful.

So lastly here is yours truly, tired but pleased, shortly before the guests arrived. The flowers were arranged by Boriana, who I bet could trounce Martha in a Floral Goddess Smackdown any day. I cannot over-emphasize the importance of a beautiful table; it makes the food more appealing and guests prettier when beside it. (And please note, dear reader, how my outfit matches both the decor and the food. Oh that's no accident, I think of everything. Thanks, obsessive tendencies!)
I served a fabulous smoky black tea from Edinburgh (oops! ran out of English) in mismatched teacups. Guests got to choose their own, and many had been in Debora's family for generations~ a lovely touch. What a pleasure to help celebrate love and families coming together.

Growing up I often felt I didn't have a culture, that mine was standard American WASP; it didn't feel like anything special, or different. Like being surrounded by trees and not recognizing you're in a forest, sometimes I can't see my life clearly until I'm outside of it. I didn't appreciate the excellent Englishness of all the showers I got dragged to as a kid until I put this one on myself. I saw people say, "Cucumber sandwiches?" with wrinkled noses, or "What are those triangles?" as they pointed to the scones. Then their faces would break into bright smiles and I'd hear, "Ooooohhhhh" as they nibbled; I thought yes, this is the food of my people. Thank you, stuffy ancestors, for all the deliciousness you handed down to me. Cheerio!