spring; or how to bring baby Strawberry Pies to the dead of winter

some of the deadest months of the year are usually January and February. Most people are in a post-holiday coma of solitude, the winter in much of the country inspires stockpiling bread and eggs and becoming something of a hermit with snow falling all around. The sun, when there is any, is the weak and pale sort that reflects hazily off heather-hued snow. Once the snow is down for a few days, it becomes slush and browns.

That is not what is happening. Here in Western PA, there is bright sunlight and warmer than usual temperatures. There isn't any snow. Not a lick of it, and what had fallen melted away moments or days later. It is most welcome and highly confusing. 2012 has skipped January and February, and even parts of March. It's late March, possibly early April and spring feels just around the corner. Except, wait, it is February is only one week gone, the Superbowl just got played, and there are months of possible snow and ages to go until the store and my life become busier.

I'm ready to go, I'm ready for my new plans to begin (and be confirmed...especially confirmed), I'm ready to take all sorts of personal leaps of faith off tall buildings and into wild unknowns. Except, just like this weather, it isn't yet spring. My wild impatience notwithstanding, the rest of the world is still revolving at its typical pace. I still can't sit still, can't wait for the next step, can't stop my mind revolving faster than it ever should. So, spring it is until the weather jolts me back to reality. Spring and strawberry pies for all.

 Baby Strawberry Pies
1 recipe, Homemade Pie Crust
8 to 12 oz frozen strawberries (unsweetened)
1/4 cup white sugar
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/4 cup water

thaw the strawberries completely, saving the juice. Make the pie crust, rolling out thinly, and cut into circles. I used a pint glass, but any glass of about 3 inches in diameter will work. Gently press each circle into a muffin tin. The edges will only come about halfway up the sides of each indentation of the tin. Prick the bottom and sides of each shell with a fork so that the dough does not puff too much while baking, then bake in a preheated 375 degree oven for about 20 minutes, or until golden brown at the edges. This recipe should make about 18 shells, but there could be more or less depending on how thick you roll the dough.
While the shells are baking, drain the strawberry juice into a small saucepan, then add the sugar and almond extract. In a small bowl, combine the cornstarch and water to a smooth liquid. Gently bring the juice to a low boil (check to be sure the juice is sweet enough, if not add more sugar to taste), then pour in the cornstarch mixture, stirring to avoid lumps. Once it has thickened, pour it over the thawed strawberries and mix to combine. Refrigerate.
When the pie shells are done, allow to cool in the muffin tins.
You can make both parts the day or night before you plan to serve the pies, but do not fill the shells until an hour or less before you do serve them, lest they become soggy. Simply fill the shells with a tablespoon or so of the filling (as full as you like), then serve. You might also put a bit of whipped cream on top, but it is not necessary.

 "Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch." - Garrison Keillor

solitude; or how to throw together Shrimp Pasta for one

cooking for one can be the worst kind of drudgery as well as providing stimulating creativity.Want to try something out that no one else you know will try? Have an evening alone and play around in the kitchen. Live by yourself and have a million things to do, are starving and don't want to spend much time cooking? Throw some stuff into a skillet and call it done. It's a chore and a de-stressing method, sometimes at the same time. I get the best of both worlds: I live alone but next door to my parents. When I want to cook for a household of people or enjoy lively dinner conversation, hey, there they are! When I want to be alone or be quiet, look, I have my own place!

Granted, there's no one in my little place to share a quiet meal with, but a little solitude is a nice thing, too. This shrimp pasta is a nice combination of delicious, comforting, and light. Add a salad, maybe a glass of wine, and there is a delightful meal for one. Double the portions, it's a romantic dinner for two (Valentine's Day is coming remarkably soon). Multiply by more and the next thing you know, you're throwing a dinner party and everyone wants to know how you managed to pull it all off. Versatility and ease is the name of the game, some days.

Shrimp Pasta
1/4 lb shrimp (or a one person serving size), cleaned, peeled, uncooked
1 oz. dried pasta (linguine or fettuccine or any long pasta you prefer)
1 large tomato or 1 can stewed tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 spring or green onion, finely chopped

Heat salted water to a boil, then add the dried pasta. This will take about 10-15 minutes to cook to your desired al dente consistency.
Pour oil and garlic into a cold skillet, then heat to medium on a slow burner. Allow the garlic to meld into the oil without crisping, about 5 minutes. Then turn up the burner to hot and add the tomatoes. If using the can, add the liquid as well. Once the tomatoes are heated through and just beginning to soften, add the white part of the onion. Reserve the green tops in your serving bowl. Then add the shrimp to the hot skillet, tossing gently. Once the pasta is a minute or so from done, drain it and add to the shrimp and tomatoes (you'll want the pasta to go in less than a minute after the shrimp, so hold off on cooking the shrimp until the appropriate time). Allow the pasta to finish cooking, then serve with some grated hard cheese, typically Parmesan.

"Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch." - Garrison Keillor