Living in Guizhou is great for a lot of things--improving my Chinese, for example, or going on hikes with a local SWAT team, or getting a serious education in Buyi ethnic culture. Food-wise, if you love spicy eggplant, sticky rice, duck soup, or breakfast noodles (and ohmigosh do I), then really there's nowhere better.

But sometimes, even the most open-minded and open-mouthed of us get homesick. And food can play a big role in that. When I'm in the US and I get a craving for some thin crust pizza or some Ben and Jerry's, well, most of the time I talk myself out of it. But sometimes, of course, I indulge. And it's nice to have that option. Because when I'm in rural China and a craving like that strikes, it just acts as another reminder of the fact that I am really, really far away from home. And the Whole Foods salad bar. (Which is actually my favorite food.)

It was so good to be home. And the holidays this year were the best. My only complaint is that they passed far too quickly for me to fully take in the magical, sparkly feelings of Christmas and New Year's before they were gone. But let's be serious . . . No amount of time is ever enough for that. 

And now, my fair readers, I have an announcement. 

(No, I am not engaged. But I did pick out a ring while I was home! Eek!)

I have officially upgraded from the camera on an iPhone 4S to a Canon Rebel T3. Quite an upgrade indeed. Thanks, mom and dad, for the incredible birthday present!
The Christmas Day meal in my family is all about tradition. All of the dishes come straight out of my grandmother's kitchen exactly the way they have for the last fifty years: crab meat spaghetti, a rhubarb jello mold, strawberry quick bread, a German Stollen, and a smoked turkey and a honey ham.
Oma asks us every year if we're sure we don't want to update the menu, but the answer's always no. The only thing that's changed is the classic canned-soup-green-bean-casserole. For the past few years, I've been charged with vegetable casserole duty. This year, I chose Emeril's Cauliflower Gratin. The only change I made was to use broccoli in place of half the cauliflower. Since I was serving a big group, I also doubled the original recipe. My casserole is the second one from the left. (The first is that crab meat spaghetti--bring on the Velveeta and cream of mushroom soup! Mmm.)

I love the way the onion, bay leaves and cloves are used to infuse the milk with flavor. This recipe was a keeper!

Recipe for Broccoli Cauliflower Gratin
Adapted from Emeril Lagasse
Makes 12 servings.

Ingredients:
2 bay leaves
1 yellow onion, peeled and cut in half
6 whole cloves
6 cups milk
1 large head cauliflower, rinsed and cut into florets
1 large head broccoli, rinsed and cut into florets
10 tbsp butter, divided
4 tbsp minced shallots
4 tsp minced garlic
6 tbsp flour
Pinch freshly ground nutmeg
1 cup freshly grated Gruyere
1 cup coarse breadcrumbs
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp white pepper
4 tsp fresh parsley, roughly chopped

Instructions:
Lay the bay leaves over the cut sides of the onion and poke 3 cloves through each to secure leaves to onion. Put the onion halves in a 2-quart saucepan and pour the milk over them. Over medium heat, bring to a gentle simmer. Cook--do not boil--for ten minutes. Remove from heat and strain through a fine mesh sieve. Set aside until ready to use.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Steam the cauliflower until just tender, 10 minutes. Halfway through, add the broccoli. Arrange florets in a shallow casserole dish and set aside while you make the sauce.

In a saucepan, melt 6 tbsp butter. Add the shallots and garlic and saute until fragrant, 1 minute. Add the flour to the pan and stir with a wooden spoon to form a blonde roux. Do not allow mixture to brown. Add the simmered, strained milk and whisk till smooth. Increase the heat and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and continue to simmer for ten minutes or until thick, smooth and creamy. Remove pan from heat and add the Gruyere and nutmeg; stir until cheese has melted. Emeril recommends that you strain the sauce, but I left mine as is. Pour strained or un-strained sauce evenly over florets. Melt the remaining 4 tbsp butter in a saucepan and add breadcrumbs. Toss well to coat. Sprinkle with the salt and pepper and add the chopped parsley. Sprinkle breadcrumbs evenly over casserole and bake until golden and bubbly, 30-45 minutes.
 
 
This blog has been a long time in the making. I have started food blogs in the past (Who remembers "A Vegan Traveler" from my Regensburg days? Don't worry! This is NOT a vegan blog!) but never really kept up with them. I've had a plethora of excuses for discontinuing said food blogs or refusing to start new ones, but lately the excuse has been that I don't know the first thing about food photography.

I am an avid follower of Foodgawker.com. I read it like it's the New York Times, and the big story of the day is how to bake mini pear tarts in mason jar lids. That site is like crack to me. I can't look at just one page of pictures; I have to scroll through at least three and usually only end up stopping because I am either late for something or get too hungry to continue. I love the way that each picture links to its respective food blog and recipe, and yes, it is a dream of mine to some day be linked to that site as well. Dream big, Kaci! Dream big!

So I couldn't bear the thought of starting a food blog (especially one linked to my website and travel blog) if I couldn't provide you with quality photos of my culinary projects.

Now that I'm back at home, I've been able to enjoy the luxury of having every cooking utensil and piece of machinery imaginable. (Except a stand mixer, but I've resigned myself to the fact that I won't have one of those until I get married. Which won't be any time soon.) I did a lot of cooking this past year in Germany, and I had to be pretty creative at times to get around certain obstacles, like a shortage of bowls (mixing and serving), a tiny workspace, and a refrigerator one-third the size of what would be considered normal in the States. Which I shared with a roommate. But I gained a lot more experience with cooking, and went from "becomes paralyzed without detailed recipe" to "is capable of baking cookies without one."

Since being back, I have been cooking and baking up a storm. It was one of the ways that my status as "funemployed" manifested itself. I have a job now, but the hours are flexible since it's a start-up company, so I anticipate being able to keep up in the kitchen.

But what about the pictures? you ask in a polite but concerned tone. Well. You would think that since my mother is a professional photographer, I might know my way around a camera better than I do. But I guess maybe I've just never shown enough interest in learning, or never felt the need to since she's already got enough skills for the whole family. Those days of complacency and ignorance are over now, though! I've got my hands on her old camera (a Canon something-something) and through five-minute tutorials from her here and there and the great big world of the Internet, I will be learning to take Foodgawker-worthy photos in the days and weeks to come.