Broccoli Salad With Golden Raisins, Olives, and Pickled Mirepoix Relish

My leftover steamed broccoli inevitably ends up in a cold dish, as reheating can make it mushy. I had tossed these little trees with salt, pepper, olive oil, and lemon juice during their first lives; so to dress the salad, all I used was a bit of additional olive oil.

Mirepoix refers to the French holy trinity of cuisine: onions, carrots, and celery. Tradition calls for two parts onion to one part each carrot and celery, a fact that I did not know when I made this pickled version. So if you're a publisher who has decided not to give me a cookbook deal based on that transgression, please keep in mind that, hey, now I know (though if you want an author who knows what the hells she's talking about, you're not the variety of publisher who would have given me a cookbook deal anyway).

Salad isn't the only use for Pickled Mirepoix Relish. You can sprinkle it on deviled eggs, thick soups, hot dogs... Maybe even dessert? Worth a shot. I see Pickled Mirepoix Cookies in my near future.

As mentioned at its first appearance on The Chickenless Kitchen, this brine recipe was adapted from the one for Fresh-Pickled Vegetables on page 220 of Alice Waters' The Art of Simple Food.

Pickled Mirepoix Relish

Ingredients

1/2 c. each carrot, celery, and onion, minced

1 batch of pickling brine, subbing an equal amount of sugar for the acai black currant syrup

Directions

Combine the veggies in a heatproof container. Set aside.

Bring the brine to a boil for five minutes. Pour the brine over the veggies. Strain immediately. Allow to cool, then store in the fridge for at least two hours before using. Makes 1 1/2 cups.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

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Lentil Cookies

You probably get bombarded with lies on this subject every day: "Don't worry, it's healthy but you still feel satisfied." "Tastes just like the real thing!" "Your kids will never know the difference if you substitute spinach for sugar." But the fact is, most diet desserts suck. And they will ultimately lead to a breakdown during which you will shovel too many un-diet desserts into your deprived piehole at one sitting.

All that said, PLEASE GIVE THESE COOKIES A CHANCE.

I know they sound like the Valium-fueled concoction of a 1970s ex-hippie supermom, but THEY REALLY DO TASTE GOOD. And if you are among my many vegetarian readers, you're sure to appreciate the extra protein that comes from combining lentils with oatmeal.

I adapted this recipe from the one underneath the lid of the Quaker Oats canister. The original is called Vanishing Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, a longtime favorite in my house. In addition to subbing lentils for 1/3 of the oats, I threw in some dried ginger and cloves, which I thought would complement the other flavors nicely and help disguise the lentils. And of course, you can use anything you'd like in place of the raisins. This time I went half and half with golden raisins and chocolate chips. On my list to try are dried apricot chunks, dried cranberries, dried blueberries, and candied ginger (preferably chocolate-covered).

Lentil Cookies

Ingredients

2 sticks butter (salted if desired), softened

1 c. firmly packed brown sugar

1/2 c. granulated sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla

1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. dried ginger

1/8 tsp. dried cloves

1/2 tsp salt

2 c. oats (I used Quaker)

1 c. cooked lentils

1/2 c. chocolate chips

1/2 c. golden raisins

Directions

Heat the oven to 350.

Beat butter, sugars, eggs, and vanilla in a mixing bowl.

Combine flour, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and salt in a separate bowl, then incorporate this mixture into the wet ingredients.

Stir in oats and lentils.

Stir in chocolate chips and raisins.

Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto an ungreased cookie sheet.

Bake 10-12 minutes at 350. Makes 4 dozen.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Latkes at a Christmas Party

Actually, my mother considers it more of a "Winter Solstice Party." Whatever you choose to call it, it's the party she has every year when the boat parade goes by her lakefront house, and everyone stands down on the dock waving and shouting, "Merry Christmas!"

Do I have pictures of said boat parade, you might ask? Heavens no. Do I have pictures of the latkes I brought to wish everyone a Happy Whatever the Heck It Is You Celebrate? Yey-ah! (Ironically they were a little late if you celebrate Hanukkah.)

I got this recipe off the incredible blog Las Vegas Food Adventures. Yeah, I know, you're waitin' for it... "What did she change?" Well, this time, it was nothing. Nada. Not a single...

AAAAAAAUGH!! I can't take the LIES!!! I used olive oil instead of vegetable, damn it!!!!!!! Are you satisfied?????!!!!!

Well, if so, you oughtn't to be. Because they turned out looking like horrid gray blobs instead of the pristine brown beauties in the original picture. Did they taste great? Sure. Did they go over well at the party? Definitely, but only because there was such dim lighting that I didn't get any decent pics of the final product until we had them for breakfast the next morning:

Awwwwwww, yuck, gross! What is that gray blob on the plate next to my mom's beautiful fruit salad? Did someone hock a... or cough up a... oh, wait, no, that's just my dumb ass using olive oil. Okay, phew. Thought that might actually have been cat barf there for a sec.

To make it crystal clear, this was no fault at all of the original recipe's. They would have been perfect if I had followed along verbatim. But the only oil I keep on hand in large quantities is olive. So my mom's party mood lighting is practically a Christmas miracle in my opinion. It allowed me to rake in the compliments that Las Vegas Food Adventures so deserves for this tasty Jewish-inspired dish.

Happy Hanu-kwan-rama-solst-mas! (Please let me know if I'm forgetting anyone, and I will make an addendum.)

P.S. If you had to pick one type of oil to keep in your house, which would you go with?

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Baked Brie (or, "The First Dish From My New Kitchen That I've Had the Guts to Post About")

By that, I mean my kitchen was so clogged with furniture and boxes for two weeks that I was embarrassed to let people see how I lived. And this is me we're talking about- not embarrassed that a tape measure once appeared in the background of a photo I posted, but sure as hell embarrassed of how big a tornado would have had to hit anyone else's apartment in order to make it look the way it has during my first weeks of residence here.

Luckily, this gave me a bit of time to get used to my new kitchen; including the new arrangement of equipment, the new not-so-double-wide sink, the old ottoman that newly lives underneath the new counter, and the new oven that is charmingly off by somewhere between twenty-five and fifty degrees. Cozy and romantic, I know. Let's just fantasize that it's in Paris rather than downtown Orlando, shall we?

Cue accordion music...

Tape poster of Eiffel Tower over window...

And let's bake some brie.

Baked Brie a la The Chickenless Chick's Sister-in-Law

Ingredients

1 wheel of brie

A few shots' worth of brandy

A couple handfuls of brown sugar

Directions

Heat oven to 350.

Put the brie in an overproof dish and dump most of the brown sugar on top of it. Pour the brandy over. Dust the remaining sugar over the top.

Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes. The cheese usually oozes out of the wax (as you can see, I just cannot figure out my impossible oven... it was plenty soft, but I never got any oozage). Serves approximately 12 as an appetizer.

This particular recipe was inspired by my sister-in-law's, which uses Jack Daniels and is very tasty. The brandy was my husband's idea, and at this point I have no idea how it turned out, since he needed it for his office Christmas party. Would that we could scrape together the money for two wheels of brie!

Anyway, the Paris fantasy was over a little too fast, so I have another somewhat depressing activity for us: Let's pretend we're back at the Chickenless Chick's old house! Here were some of my Thanksgiving leftovers.

From top to bottom:

1. Smoothie made from plain Greek yogurt, banana, OJ, ice, and leftover cranberry relish

2. Quiche made from eggs and leftover Spicy Grand Marnier Rabe

3. Parfait layered with plain Greek yogurt, almonds, and leftover cranberry relish

If you didn't get to see my Thanksgiving recipes, you can find them here.

Did I cry during that little trip backward through time at all? Of course not. The Chickenless Chick would never cry because she's a hack who can't find work and can't afford to live in a space with more than one room. Never.

On a cheerier topic, come the Northerners' growing season my husband and I will be interning on a farm, and then I'll wonder what the big deal was about letting go of a dinky little house in the suburbs. Hooray! We've been searching Colorado for internships on a whim, being that neither of us has ever been to Colorado and we've both heard positive things. We'd like to go with a permaculture program, but would take on pretty much any learning experience with zeal. Though we have loved our time here in Orlando, and my husband loves his current job, we are both more than ready to begin this next stage of our lives. Managing a small permaculture farm of our own is the ultimate goal. Eventually I hope to open a slow food restaurant on the property as well (getting ahead of myself, since I have no idea where said property is yet). If you'd like to follow our internship adventures, be sure to bookmark Doveland Farm. Currently I don't spend as much time on it as The Chickenless Kitchen, but that will change this summer I'm sure.

In the meantime, prepare to indulge an epic slew of fantasies spun here on Livingston Street.

Addendum: The brie was a big hit at my husband's office party. I got the last tiny bite of it, and I have to say I prefer my sister-in-law's. Not enough contrast between the brandy and the brown sugar. Maybe if you served it for dessert instead of an appetizer, with wafer cookies instead of bread or crackers, it might work better.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Acai Black Currant Pickled Okra

While I have at least one elaborate recipe in mind for the acai black currant syrup I won from Food Finery, little everyday uses for it are adding up by the dozens. Alice Waters' recipe for Fresh-Pickled Vegetables, which can be found on page 220 of The Art of Simple Food, partially inspired me to use it in a brine for pickled okra (the original called for sugar instead). My other inspiration was Peas Love Carrots, where you can find an awesome recent post on canning Spicy Italian Pickled Okra.

My adaptation of Fresh-Pickled Vegetables from Alice Waters' The Art of Simple Food is as follows.

Acai Black Currant Pickled Okra

Ingredients

1 1/2 c. white wine vinegar

1 3/4 c. water

2 1/2 Tbsp. Acai Black Currant flavored syrup from Sonoma Syrup Co.

1/2 bay leaf

4 thyme sprigs (I didn't have fresh thyme, so I used a generous pinch dried)

Half a dried cayenne pepper or pinch dried chili flakes

1/2 tsp. coriander seeds

2 whole cloves (I used a pinch of ground cloves)

1 garlic clove, peeled and halved

Generous pinch salt

1/2 lb. okra pods, halved

Directions

Combine all ingredients except okra. Boil over high heat. Add the okra and reduce heat to medium-high. Let simmer about 15 minutes, or until the okra is no longer crunchy but not yet gooey. Lift the pods out with a spatula or slotted spoon and transfer to a heat-proof container with a lid. Set the brine aside until it has cooled enough to refrigerate. Pour the brine over the okra, put the lid on, and chill at least two hours before you start munching (Ms. Waters says you can start munching right away, but I like to wait for the okra to marinate a bit). Will last up to a couple weeks in the fridge, and you'll get even more mileage if you can it.

Remember, just four more days on the 30 Rock TV Dinner challenge! Have you posted your 30-Rock inspired dish yet? If so, let me know!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Nutella and Lemon Curd Sandwich Cookies

I know it's not very chickenless of me to share two recipes from the same cookbook in one month. Believe me, I was just going to do Cook of the Week and post this sometime down the road.

As I write this, there's a gunman on the loose within a few blocks of my house. As of fifteen minutes ago, they had no suspects and were still attempting to secure the office building where it happened. I'm sure you'll all read about this in the news later, and by then what I just told you will be out of date. But right now, I'm scared and confused. What the hell is going on? First Fort Hood, now this... What's wrong with the world? If that sicko is prowling my neighborhood right now, looking for a place to lie low, if he just busts into my house right now, I WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT WAS GOING THROUGH HIS HEAD. I may never know anyway. We may never be able to point to it. They may never prove that it's hormones in the water supply, or an undercurrent of political resentment on all sides that's finally built its way to this, or ANY ONE THING. As a human being, that makes me nervous. Human beings like to know things. They like to dissect incidents, to overcome hurdles. Puzzles with no answers are the essence of Jung's Shadow.

So if I'm so nervous, what am I doing here at my laptop, sitting on the floor so my head is below all the windows, writing about cookies? Because I may not know how to solve the tragedies of the world, but I do know cookies. Especially these cookies. I've baked them many times, and their sweet buttery perfection never fails to distract me. So at least for the short time that I'm blogging about them, I'll be the boss. Not some nutcase wandering around town with a gun. ME. I'm in charge.

And I say we're baking cookies, damn it.

We're baking Grandma Sylvia's Salt Butter Cookies on page 188 of America's Best Lost Recipes:

But we're baking them the Chickenless Kitchen way, which means that instead of the chocolate filling they tell you to use, we're using Nutella and lemon curd. And because there is currently no whiskey in the Chickenless Kitchen, we're using lemon juice instead.

Nutella and Lemon Curd Sandwich Cookies

Ingredients

2 large egg yolks

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 tsp. lemon juice

2 sticks salted butter, softened; or 2 sticks unsalted butter plus 1/2 tsp. salt

2/3 c. granulated sugar

2 1/4 c. all-purpose flour

2 Tbsp. each Nutella and lemon curd

Directions

Heat the oven to 350.

Beat the yolks, vanilla, lemon juice, butter, and sugar in a mixing bowl.

Incorporate the flour (and salt if using).

Roll bits of dough between your palms to make balls about 3/4" across. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes. You should end up with about 36 small cookie halves. Let these cool completely (both Nutella and lemon curd are lousy to work with at high temperatures).

Once the cookies have cooled, separate them into two groups of the same number. Spread a paper-thin layer of Nutella on one group, lemon curd on the other. Take one of each (it helps if they're approximately the same size) and marry them. Press firmly, or else the lemon curd side will slide off. Makes 1 1/2 dozen sandwich cookies. Store in the refrigerator.

Just checked the news again. Apparently they have ID'd the suspect, an ex-employee who was fired last year for "performance issues." They're saying it's too soon to pinpoint that as a motivation.

They haven't physically caught him, at least not as of three minutes ago. I can hear the noise of the police helicopters over my house starting to fade. Maybe that's a good sign. Just going to have to wait and see. In the meantime my heart goes out to the victims and their families, those poor people who can't just look at pictures of cookies and make this go away.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Aw Yeah, Here Are the Results of the Wheat Germ Challenge...

I'm ready!! I'm ready!!

...Wait, I'm not ready.

Can anyone tell me what this is?

Well, then, damn it, I'm not ready.

Why hasn't anyone made the application for Google yet where you can just upload a picture of something and then ask what it is? That would be useful right now. Because I got this is in my Vietnamese takeout container a couple days ago, and now it is an integral part of my wheat germ challenge recipe.

Anyhoo, other than the fact that I used a mystery herb (hoping some of my Foodbuzz friends will be able to lend a hand here??), this went swimmingly. I hope to make Baffling Ingredient a common recurrence, if not a rigid feature, on the Chickenless Kitchen. Face it, people, I do have to work sometimes... sometimes. Once in a blue moon.

Without further ado, I made Back to School Granola Bars by Sunshine Mom:

I made them to the very best of my ability.

I made them without letting my ADD take over.

Except for the part where I excluded the chocolate chips, subbed extra wheat germ for Smart Balance, and crumpled one up to sprinkle over asparagus.

Right. Hopeless.

Granola Asparagus

Ingredients

2 tbsp. olive oil

1 clove garlic, sliced thin

1 lb. asparagus spears

2/3 c. vegetable or other light broth

2 Tbsp natural, unsweetened peanut butter

1 tsp. lime juice

1 Tbsp. mystery herb (I'm pretty sure Thai basil could sub in a pinch)

1 1/2 tsp. soy sauce

1 tsp. rice vinegar

1 of Sunshine Mom's incredible Back to School Granola Bars

Directions

Blanch the asparagus spears. Meanwhile, heat the olive oil over medium-low. Add the garlic slices and swish them around for a few minutes. Just before they start to brown, discard them.

Raise heat to medium-high. Add the asparagus spears to the garlic-infused oil in the pan and saute until cooked through, about seven minutes. Remove the asparagus and plate it, reserving as much oil in the pan as possible. Cover the asparagus to keep it warm.

Turn the heat back down to medium-low. Be patient. I know, it's hard for me too.

Add the remaining ingredients, minus the granola bar, to the pan. Cook, stirring, until the mixture starts to bubble.

Separate the asparagus onto two separate serving plates. Pour the sauce over. Divide the granola bar in half. Crumple each half over a serving. Serves 2.

Thanks very much to Sunshine Mom once again for her delicious recipe! Before you go accusing me of bastardizing it, let me just say in my defense that I bastardized it with a Vitamix.

Have you seen this sucker in action? Here are my peanuts:

Here are my peanuts ten seconds later:

BOO-ya!

You're going to think I work for Vitamix at this point, but I don't. The fact is, I've just never seen anything like it. Thirty more seconds, and I would have had peanut butter.

Is it a new toy, you ask? Oh no, it is not a new toy. I've had it over two years, and I've never had to sharpen the blades. It's just that good. Highly recommend it to anyone who believes in the necessity of owning both a blender and a food processor... this puppy has two different processing bowls, one for dry ingredients (like if you want to make peanut butter out of whole roasted peanuts) and one for wet (like if you want to make smoothies, soup, etc.), and they both work their magic like nothing I've ever seen in a kitchen.

For those of you who didn't see my earlier post, I've been inspired by Michelle Gienow's article about eating responsibly on a food stamp budget. I plan to spend all day tomorrow looking up local sources for protein. Because even being poor, I can't stand buying from irresponsible sources for one more week. I have to do the best I can; despite being here in Orlando, which in my opinion is a desert for responsibly-raised food products. Don't get me wrong- I love being here, and if I didn't, I would leave in a heartbeat. I just want to do some research and see if it's possible to have my cake and eat it too.

Will have some results for you tomorrow night. Til then, thanks to all who participated in the wheat germ project, and hope to see your entry in the next Baffling Ingredient challenge!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Spicy Ginger Brownies

I was trying to get through this without cropping any photos because I like them all the same size. But I realized the photos in my Jim Victor feature were all different sizes, so what the hell. I also realized you would be much more receptive if I didn't showcase my messy table.

What you do want me to showcase is this brownie. And then you want me to pack it up and mail it to you. And then you want to devour it. And then, as a token of gratitude, you want to send me your first-born child. Because no other form of payment will do. Oh no, not in this case.

See? I didn't even remember to take a picture first, I was so eager to cut into them:

Okay, I'm exaggerating. They could be better. But they have more potential than any other dessert I've ever invented, so I am pleased with myself on that front. I love the texture and the combination of flavors.

Specific ways in which they might be improved:

1) Toppings!! Doesn't that little guy wook so wonewy up there on his wittle napkin? Who's a wonewy bwownie? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! I was thinking candied ginger or some kind of frosting... Ideas? Lay 'em on me.

2) Not quite spicy enough for my taste. I bite into one, and for a couple seconds it tantalizes me with the idea of biting back. Then it decides, "Nah, never mind. I'm just a regular ol' brownie after all." So I wasn't chickenless enough with the spices. Need to pull an Elzar and kick it up a notch. If you duplicate this at home, I would recommend increasing the ratio of ginger and/or cayenne.

3) Spiced goodies are well-loved for their robust, "Here I am!"-sung-out-in-a-deep-baritone-voice flavor. This dessert was borderline, practically a tenor. Which is okay, just not what a guest might expect when you tell them you're serving Spicy Ginger Something-or-Other. In the future, I may sub dark brown sugar or molasses for some of the sweeteners. (Yes, I know... molasses and chocolate? Phone a priest!)

Spicy Ginger Brownies

Ingredients

1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter (wait for it... wait for it...)

2/3 c. light brown sugar

2/3 c. granulated sugar

1/4 c. holly honey

2 eggs

3 Tbsp. water

1 1/3 c. all-purpose flour

3/4 c. cocoa powder

1/2 tsp. salt (...aw yeah, there it is!)

1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. cinnamon

1/4 tsp. ground ginger

1/8 tsp. ground cloves

1/8 tsp. nutmeg

1/8 tsp. dried cayenne pepper

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350.

Beat the butter, sugars, honey, eggs, and water together with an electric mixer.

In a separate bowl, stir the remaining ingredients together. Add this to the wet ingredients and beat again.

Pour batter into a greased 13"X9" pan. Bake 20-25 minutes, depending on whether you like your brownies fudgey or cakey. Makes 2 dozen.

Then all you have to do is lick your beaters, and you're done! Ta-da!

I adapted this recipe from one for "Chewy Cocoa Brownies" on the back of the Nestle cocoa powder box, though it's pretty unrecognizable at this point. In fact, this is the furthest I've ever successfully flown from the coop as far as baking goes. Think I am starting to get the hang of it (she says as her next attempt blows up the oven probably).

Hope everyone is having a great week!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Which of These Cookies Is Not Like the Other?

That's right, it's the second one from the left in the top row. If you've ever made cookies at five in the morning so your husband could take some for lunch (while the coffee was still brewing and about fifteen minutes off from being in your belly), you may just understand how such screw-ups can happen.

Here's what the instruction read: "Bake until just set and beginning to crack... rotating the baking sheet halfway through baking."

Here's what my groggy brain read: "Bake until just set and beginning to crack... rotating halfway through baking."

I was like, "What? Okay, well, you're the boss, cookbook." But then I did one and thought to myself, "Uh... that doesn't look right." So I went back and read it again. Sure enough, no cookie-flipping involved... What the hell, groggy brain? Next time coffee will be my top priority.

If you read my posts often, you know that I invent my own recipes almost every day. But I also use cookbooks from time to time. I am still learning the chemistry of what makes a cookie dough different from a cake batter different from a quick bread different from... well, inadvertent quick bread pudding.

This morning's recipe for Upside-Down-No-Wait-Right-Side-Up Peanut Butter Cookies is adapted from the one for Peanut Blossom Cookies on page 180 of America's Best Lost Recipes: 121 Kitchen-Tested Heirloom Recipes Too Good to Forget.

The collection, from the editors of Cook's Country Magazine, focuses on vintage recipes that have been passed down through generations of cooks and bakers. I geek out over vintage stuff (clothes, boats, luggage, furniture... you name it), so I was thrilled when a casual acquaintance showed me the book, and even more thrilled when she said I could keep it. Thanks again, Helena, wherever you are!

Peanut Blossom Cookies are supposed to have Hershey's kisses on them as in the picture below, but I just used what I had... after all, five in the morning is no ideal time to shop unless you're willing to break a window and leave the grocer an IOU. Other changes include a slight peanut butter reduction and substitution of light brown sugar for dark brown sugar, neither of which I would recommend if you have the original ingredients on hand. I was also so pressed for time that I didn't process the peanuts with the flour the way it said to do. No opinion on that one... I like the whole peanuts, but then again I've never had it the other way, so who knows? And of course, being the salt fiend that I am when it comes to cookies, I swapped half the unsalted butter for salted. This I will always, always recommend for any baked good under the sun.

Upside-Down-No-Wait-Right-Side-Up-Peanut-Butter-Cookies

Ingredients

2 3/4 c. flour

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. baking powder

2 sticks butter (1 salted and 1 unsalted), softened

3/4 c. well-packed brown sugar

3/4 c. granulated sugar

2/3 c. peanut butter

2 large eggs

2 tsp. vanilla extract

1 c. roasted salted peanuts

Directions

Drink your coffee!!!!!

Preheat the oven to 350. Stir the flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder together in a large mixing bowl. Add all remaining ingredients except the peanuts and beat with an electric mixer. Stir in the peanuts.

Roll the dough into 1-inch balls and place these 2 inches apart on a baking sheet (the book says to use parchment paper, but they don't stick, so it's a waste of parchment paper in my opinion). Bake 11-13 minutes. Makes 4 dozen small cookies.

The super-sweetest thing about America's Best Lost Recipes is not the recipes themselves, but the stories they use to introduce them. For instance, I didn't realize that the wave of popularity enjoyed by peanut butter cookies with kisses on top resulted from an entry in a recipe contest that ended up losing. The winner was some walnut cookie no one's ever heard of. Do you ever wonder what we'll find important years from now? Which of our recipes will still be around, and which ones will die out?

To fit the theme of the book, I've artificially antiquated all the pics in this post through the magic of iPhoto. Here's an interesting one:

I have no idea who Amanda is. Remember I said that a casual acquaintance gave me this book? Well, when I got it home and opened it, out slipped this card. I assume she'd used it as a bookmark. As previously mentioned, her name is Helena (not Amanda) so I concluded the card had been written from her rather than to her. I meant to give it back, but forgot a couple times, since we didn't each other that often. Now, as far as I know, she lives in Texas. And Amanda never got her card.

The envelope is still sealed. I've never looked inside. And probably never will. Why, I don't know. It's probably just a hella-belated birthday card. My seeing it would just barely, marginally, forgivably violate Helena's and Amanda's privacy. But every time I see that name, hand-scrawled in pencil, it stops me in my tracks. If the name weren't there, it would be different. I would open it in a heartbeat. Because of that name, I'm leaving it for future generations to find. Because of the name, a simple envelope has become a mystery. Maybe one day, as my unborn kid is opening this book, out it will slide. Maybe they'll open it immediately. Maybe they won't. Either way, they'll have a story to go with their recipes.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.