Artist of the day: Clare Turlay Newberry

Let's face it: when I talk about an "artist of the week," it's most likely going to be an illustrator. Not that an illustrator isn't an artiste, etc etc, but you know what I mean! One of things I've come to realize is that illustrators hold a special place in my heart. Holed up for ohmyfreakingoditsnycslargestblizzardeversnowstormjuno  the blizzard that wasn't, I was browsing Etsy, when I came upon these lovely cat drawings from the 30s.

Claire Turlay Newberry was born in Oregon and began drawing cats at the age of two. Later in life, she went to art school here and there, but never finished. At first she wanted to be a portrait painter but once she achieved success in cat-drawing, she never looked back.

I love the limited color palette (the smokey grays, negative space, and a hint of red) and how well-observed her cats are. Of the seventeen books she wrote and illustrated, fourteen of them featured cats as their main subject.

Throwback Thursday

In honor of this dreary, snowy day, a picture of mom on the snow-covered walk to my grandmother's house. 1970s.

And also, some beautiful J.C. Bach.

My Weekend in Pictures

Winter landscape through my aunt's windows

Array of iron objects

Goose in the East Hampton Duck Pond

Dog-running at Wiborg Beach

Crab claws and other finds

Snow dunes

Montauk lighthouse, passenger-side

Neon Lobster at Shagwong

Flowers on the windowsill

This weekend, Molly added... (drumroll, please!)... a plant shelf to our reading nook. We had picked up some pricy iron brackets at Dry Goods in Boerum Hill the weekend before (also, a reindeer Christmas ornament with one antler because I managed to break it off in one second of handling -- go me!) to serve as a nice contrast to the white wood plank. A selection of tiny potted yellow mums added the perfect touch of cheer to this interminable winter.


Our next project for the nook is to make a tiny shelf or holder for a coffee mug, oh yeah, and to perhaps repair some of the cracks in the plaster ceiling (less glamorous but more important). Then, this area of the apartment will be pretty much "done."

Snow, snow, snow

More snow this morning.

This is getting old.

What could be a better winter breakfast than hot coffee and orange cake? Molly whipped up this wonderful breakfast cake for us to enjoy.

Blood Orange Winter Cake
adapted from Andrea Reusing's Cooking in the Moment

serves 8 - 10

Oranges and Glaze:
3 blood oranges
2 navel oranges
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1 c. sugar
1/4 t. kosher salt

Cake:
1 stick unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 c. sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
1/3 c. semolina flour
2/3 c. all-purpose flour
1 t. baking powder
1/4 t. table salt

Preheat the oven to 375F. Butter a 10 inch round pan.

Grate the zest of an orange, and reserve zest for cake batter. Cut the orange in half and juice it; you should have 1/3 c. juice. Slice remaining oranges into 1/4 inch thick rounds. Combine orange juice, lemon juice, sugar, salt, and slices in medium saucepan and bring to a slow simmer over low heat.
Cook for 6-7 minutes, until centers of orange slices are starting to become tender and translucent, but not fallen apart. Transfer slices to a plate and continute to simmer syrup until it has reduced to 1/2 cup, 5 to 8 minutes. Set the glaze aside.

To make the cake, combine butter and sugar until fluffy. One one egg, then another. Add zest. In another bowl, sift together dry ingredients. Add them, little by lithe, to the batter. Mix. Pour the batter into the pan and arrange the orange slices artistically on top of the batter. Bake for 15 minutes.

Reduce the oven temperature to 350 and bake for 35-40 minutes more, until the cake is an even golden brown and baked through.  Let cake cool until it is warm, and then poke holes all over the surface with a skewer. Brush the glaze over the top. Allow the cake to cool to room temperature and then unmold.

Throwback Thursday

Affixing the snowman's mittens, circa 1990-1992.

Glen Cove, NY

I actually remember making this snowman. I think we might have made a female companion afterwards.  I remember it because it was our most concerted and successful effort. These snowman were huge! Also, that we got to use vials of food coloring to make the facial features, an idea my mom had read about somewhere. I loved squeezing the bright colors, and watching them seep into the snow. It was so much fun!

Sister and brother, Duck Pond Rd.

Note also the awesome red-laced high-top sneakers. Oh boy!

Brownstones on Prospect Ave.

At least it's sunny out!

Thank god for Trader Joe's! Picked up this potted Hyacinth when I was in the Upper West Side yesterday, for just $2.99.  In the midst of Polar Vortex number 2 (I think this is the winter word of 2014, at least on the East Coast), I was in desperate need of something that reminded me of the upcoming spring.

I've always been curious of the Victorian flower symbolism, wondered how many people actually were fluent in the "language of flowers", how universal/ubiquitous it's usage actually was.  There was something delicious about it, arcane, perhaps a bit silly/romantic (depending on your perspective), with a dash of subterfuge/spy-novel-mystery. 

It turns out the symbolism of the hyacinth way predates Victorian usage. For you budding etymologists out there, the -nth suffolk denotes a pre-Hellenic origin. In a nutshell, this is a racy gay love triangle. Apollo, the sun god, was the lover of a beautiful boy, Hyacinth. But Zephyr, the West Wind, was also taken with the boy, and jealous that his affections weren't returned. While Apollo and Hyacinth were throwing around a discus, Zephyr changed the course of the wind so the discus struck Hyacinth in the head, killing him. While Apollo was powerless to save his young love, he caused purple hyacinth flowers to  spontaneously grow from blood that soaked the ground. Hyacinth would never completely vanish, and every spring he would be reborn.

Sunday brunch.

Inspired by our recent trip to North Carolina, Molly fixed up some delicious cheesy grits with roasted tomato, mushroom, and soft-cooked eggs. I made the tomato soup side, crowned with a healthy dollop of sour cream. Having a friend over is always a good thing for us in one ways than one, since it forces us to have an overdue reckoning with the apartment clutter. In this case, long overdue!


Grits with Roasted Tomatoes, Mushrooms, and Soft-Boiled Egg

Ingredients:

3/4 cup Stone-ground grits

4 cups water

pinch of salt

2 tablespoons butter

Cheese, about 1 cup shredded (to taste)

1 pint grape, cherry, or campari tomatoes (something small enough to roast whole)

1/2 lb Baby Bella mushrooms, sliced

1 onion (red or yellow)

4 eggs

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Take your eggs out of the refrigerator to allow them to come to room temperature. 

Bring the four cups of water to a boil and add a pinch of salt. Sprinkle in the grits while stirring so that lumps don't form. (Note: cooking directions may vary slightly from brand to brand for grits. I just follow the directions on the package (we gotthis brand as a gift from my brother for Christmas), and try to make enough for two people plus a little extra. Anything that's not eaten can be made into pan-fried grit cakes the next day, but that's not usually a problem in our house!

While the grits are cooking, wash, trim, and slice the mushrooms about 1/4 inch thick. In a mixing bowl, toss them with olive oil to coat, and salt and pepper. Arrange them on one side of a large cookie sheet lined with parchment paper or foil (to make clean-up easier). Leave the tomatoes whole but give them the same olive oil/salt/pepper treatment. Cut the onion in half and then slice into thin half-moon cuts. Toss with olive oil and arrange next to tomatoes and mushrooms.

Roast the vegetables for about 20 minutes, until they are cooked through and browned. The tomatoes should just about implode on themselves and be letting off their juice. The onions may be done cooking before the other vegetables; if they look like they're about to burn, take them off the baking sheet and set aside on a plate. 

In a small saucepan, bring enough water to cover your eggs to a boil. Once it's at a rolling boil, lower the eggs in one by one with a slotted spoon. Cook for five minutes, then set aside in a bowl of cold water.

Once the grits are cooked through, stir in the butter and cheese. I like to use a blend of sharp white cheddar and parmesan, but use what you like and have on hand.

Ladle a healthy serving of grits (about two ladle fulls is a generous portion, I find) onto the center of a plate. Arrange the roasted vegetables on top, then peel two eggs and slice them in half and add them to the pile.

Garnish with a little bit of left-over shredded cheese (if your wife hasn't eaten it already) and a few twists of freshly ground pepper.

Enjoy!

Christmas tree is up!

Small sized for a small space.

Snow day!