Suvir calls himself Susie Homemaker…well, here he is. Actually, Suvir graced us with his presence and taught us that there is life beyond curry at The Floating Island Workshops last summer in Seaside, Florida.

Top Chef Masters has just premiered and already there seems to be a favorite. This season’s “Masters” include Floyd Cardoz, Mary Sue Milliken, NOLA’s Sue Zemanick, Naomi Pomeroy, Traci des Jardins, John Currence, Hugh Acheson, George Mendes, Alessandro Stratta, Celina Tio, and John Rivera Sedlar.

From the premier episode, I’m dying to have the recipe for Floyd’s steel-cut oatmeal risotto and Naomi’s chocolate torte. As to my favorite: I feel that Suvir doesn’t need to be on any show to prove that he is a “Master,” but for Reality TV viewers, he is definitely a breath of fresh air.

He reminds us that there is no need for all the drama, that cooking is fun, and that Top Chef Masters is entertainment first and foremost.
“When we cook with friends–chopping and shopping, talking together, there’s no sense of judgment. There’s a sense of ownership when everyone is involved,” he told me earlier today. “It seems we share as little as possible for fear that we may be asking too much of another. But in the kitchen and at the table, all is forgiven. Each chore requested of a guest, makes them that much more vested in your dining experience thereby eliminating any performance anxiety. I hope for more Americans to think of every day cooking and eating as a family concert in the form of a symphony with an elaborate orchestra. Let the fancy chefs be the solo performances. The day we free ourselves of the fear of failure at the table, is the day we become the masters of our own destiny and fate. You are what you eat, so make more of an effort in indulging yourself and sharing it in a meaningful way with all.”

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Suvir’s work, check out his books, INDIAN HOME COOKING and AMERICAN MASALA. I’ve had the honor and pleasure of cooking with him in Seaside and summers on his farm in New York; not only is he fun and funny, but he’s a true testament to his craft.

Suvir Saran's Hot Hot Peppers

Here are some recipes Suvir and I have cooked together with Charlie and friends at the American Masala Farm, especially the Mirchi kaa Salaan; the recipe will be available in his forthcoming cookbook, MASALA FARM.

It’s no secret that I love oysters–fresh and cold, raw on the half shell with just a squeeze of lemon. The more they taste of the ocean the better. I grew up eating Gulf oysters–raw, in stews, fried and piled high onto French bread, or charbroiled. Ten years in France had me favoring Belons and plates, oysters from Cancale. I miss Sunday mornings at le Baron Rouge in Paris, the bustling Marché d’Aligre and standing at barrels eagerly watching shuckers offer up platters of plates et belons, clairesand more. More recently, I’ve fallen for Totten Virginicas (at Grand Central Oyster Bar) and Alaskan oysters from Kachemak Bay.
The photo below is from Le Comptoir du Relais in Paris. I had just arrived in the city and, slightly jetlagged, promptly ordered pork rillettes and oysters. Who needs sleep or melatonin when you can have this remedy?

And, my vote for the best oyster name goes to Hootenanny. How could you not love an oyster named Hootenanny. What’s your favorite oyster and why? How do you like to eat your oysters?

Here’s a quick video I shot while shooting with Frances Mayes in Tuscany this past October. We spent hours and hours cooking and styling for her upcoming cookbook, The Tuscan Sun Cookbook. Just when we were deliriously tired and didn’t know if we should laugh or cry, Ed (much more charming and handsome than his character in the movie) would appear with a word or poem of the day, and pour wines, offer a smile, and an espresso at just the right moments. Ivan Italiani, a neighbor, also came by to give us a hand with gorgonzola and pear stuffed “full moon” ravioli and his blackberry crostata. Watch how he gathers the dough in one hand and gently unrolls it onto the tart. It’s pure poetry. Click on the bottom right for full screen action.

This is a day of thanks: to the dedication of my agent, Joy Tutela, of the David Black Literary Agency who helped me get my book proposal into the hands of the talented and dedicated team at Grand Central. I was also so so fortunate to work with the brilliant AMY EINHORN (now of Amy Einhorn books whose first book under her own imprint is the runaway bestseller The Help by Kathryn Stockett).
As for the Hebrew edition of Trail of Crumbs: I was at a book signing in NYC a few years back and a Jewish photographer said he had heard my book was going to be published in Hebrew. “Isn’t that strange?” I replied.
He paused for a moment and said, “In the end…we’re all just searching for home.”
I’m happy to have found a home at Grand Central, at Minumsa (my Korean publisher), and now at Arie Nir in Tel Aviv.
Thank you thank you to everyone who gave Trail of Crumbs a home and to those who continue to read it; I am grateful.

Summer Peaches in Lemon Verbena Simple Syrup

There’s nothing better than eating peaches out of hand, and slurping the rundown juices from your fingers and wrists. If you want to serve otherwise, peel and slice, then infuse fresh lemon verbena leaves in a simple syrup of sugar and water cooked down til syrupy. Pour over the peaches and add a few more sprigs of verbena. If you don’t have lemon verbena, use fresh basil leaves.

Strawberry Ice Cream Prep. Photo by Caleb Chancey / calebchanceyphotography.com

Crazy ice cream flavors have their place, just not in my kitchen. I can’t say I don’t enjoy a scoop of Ben & Jerry’s Fossil Fuel now and then but when I started making ice cream last year, I wanted to take pure, natural flavors and let them shine in new and interesting combinations. Buttermilk, with its smooth acidic richness was my first subject.

Strawberry Ice Cream: Straining. Photo by Caleb Chancey / calebchanceyphotography.com

Starting with a solid base flavor, it evolved into one of my favorite sweet, tart summertime mixes: strawberry-buttermilk. The process of making a French, custard-based ice cream is a little more involved than the all-milk Philadelphia style, but the result is decadent and has a longer stable life in your freezer. I’ve found that custard-based ice creams last up to 1 week verses a few days with Philadelphia.

Strawberry Ice Cream: Cooking Custard. Photo by Caleb Chancey / calebchanceyphotography.com

This ice cream is pure simplicity and elegance. Perfectly ripe strawberries, some lemon, buttermilk and creme fraiche (or sour cream) to balance the berries’ sweetness and add an acidic tang, and heavy cream to mellow it all out make this a flavor I keep coming back to over and over again. Since developing it, I have substituted blackberries and blueberries to great effect (though my first love is the strawberry).

Strawberry Ice Cream: Spinning. Photo by Caleb Chancey / calebchanceyphotography.com

I dislike nebulous directions in a recipe and have come to love the candy thermometer when cooking a custard for ice cream. The FDA recommends cooking eggs to a temperature of 160 degrees, so instead of waiting for the eggs to ‘coat the back of your wooden spoon,’ I just wait until the thermometer tells me they’re done. If you like an eggier flavor, let the custard cook until it gets closer to 175 degrees, but you will need to be extra vigilant to make sure they don’t begin curdling (because who wants scrambled eggs in their ice cream?).

Strawberry Ice Cream: Frozen! Photo by Caleb Chancey / calebchanceyphotography.com

Kim Sunee and I both use the Cuisinart 1-1/2-Quart Ice-Cream Maker . It’s one of the less expensive makers, is easy to use, and cranks out 1 1/2 quarts of frozen wonder in about 20 minutes. For those who don’t have an ice cream maker, do not despair–ice cream maverick David Lebovitz, author of The Perfect Scoop and more recently Ready for Dessertposted a no-machine solution on his blog.

Strawberry Ice Cream: Ready to Eat. Photo by Caleb Chancey / calebchanceyphotography.com

Strawberry Buttermilk Ice Cream

1 cups heavy whipping cream
4 large egg yolks
3/4 cups sugar
1 cups buttermilk
1/2 cup crème fraîche (or sour cream)
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 lb strawberries, trimmed and quartered (1 1/2 cups puree)
1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Bring cream to simmer in heavy medium saucepan. Whisk egg yolks and sugar in medium bowl to blend. Gradually whisk hot cream into yolk mixture. Return mixture to saucepan and stir constantly over medium-low heat until custard is thick enough to coat back of spoon (160 to 175 degrees), about 3 minutes (do not boil). Pour custard through fine strainer into clean bowl.

Add buttermilk, crème fraîche, and salt. Chill custard in an ice bath until cold.

Purée strawberries in a blender until smooth, then force through fine sieve (to remove seeds) and add lemon juice. Stir purée into custard.

Spin custard in ice cream maker according to manufacturer’s instructions. Transfer ice cream to containers; cover and freeze until firm, at least 4 hours.

Dan Schumacher is a freelance writer, editor, and recipe tester based in Birmingham, Alabama. He edited with Kim at Cottage Living and previously worked with Food Arts and Gourmet Magazine. For more of his writing, head over to aisle-9.net or Good Taste. Caleb Chancey, whose photography was featured in this post, is a Birmingham, Alabama-based photographer. A few more shots from this story are on Flickr and please look to calebchanceyphotography.com for more of Caleb’s work.

As we prep for the celebratory Pizza Party (to celebrate 20 years of Frances and Ed in Cortona), I find myself in the kitchen with a sweet Italian man named Ivan and his robust and big-hearted mother, Domenica, who live just up the gravel road at the “House of the Sun.” Together, we make pizza dough with “00” flour, a good dose of Bramasole olive oil, salt, and water. No measuring. I’ve been making pizza since my return from Parma a few weeks ago. But here, I realize, I’ve been doing it all wrong. Ivan’s method suits me better for I am a cook who prefers not to measure, who is always tempted by the last-minute handful of this, and pinch of that.

Frances Mayes and my mountain of pizza dough, Tuscany

Ivan, with one hand constantly in motion, gently turns the flour and water into a beautiful paste. We knead it, cover it and let it rise. After an hour or so, I help pinch out moonballs of dough. Mine are not as smooth as Ivan’s but he assures me that they’re perfect. “OH KAY. Very good.” He gives me thumbs up as we toss and turn and flatten the balls to top with everything from torn basil, whole sage leaves, rosemary, and caramelized onion to fresh Italian sausage and mozzarella. Domenica squeezes my arms, tossing flour about me like fairy dust. Ivan and his mother are wizards in the kitchen yet make me feel that one day, I, too, can know the secret.

the first pizzas of 65....

Someone announces the arrival of a whole roasted pig. The porchetta! Kids squeal at the sight of the whole head, snout, eyes and all. A Korean-Australian musician arrives as well as a chef from Los Angeles, friends from North Carolina, and villagers who have gathered to celebrate 20 years of Frances and Ed here in Cortona. About 75 guests in all. A few hours later, Ivan and I take a break and he tells me we have made 65 pizzas in just a few hours. I am sticky from sweating, the back of my dress covered in Domenica’s large floured hand prints. What a brava ragazza you are, he keeps telling me. No sleep and 65 pizzas. Brava. Brava.

tired and happy, Ivan and I take a break after making 65 pizzas in one afternoon

As if we didn’t have enough food with 65 pizzas, endless bottles of wine, and a cake to feed 50 or more, Frances ordered up a whole porchetta from a friend who has a porchetta truck at the Saturday market in Cortona and also in the Porta Colonia parking lot every Wednesday p.m. .
The kids were a little scared of the head, but the beast proved to be the beauty of the party. The skin was divine, crisp and salty. My friend Robert made little skin sandwiches for me while Ivan and I rolled out pizzas.

Frances contemplating the whole porchetta

La bella porchetta!

I’ve never attempted to make my own porchetta but I’ve had delicious versions of it, rolled and stuffed with fennel seeds, garlic, lots of herbs and crisped til a golden crunch. Do you have a favorite recipe for porchetta or a secret place where you indulge?