martha stewart

I can’t stop listening to the new Bon Iver album. It’s been on repeat all day long, approaching my right ear from the nearby stereo console. Calming to the point that I wonder if my heart rate has reached a worrisomely-low level, I’m impressed by this record. Or rather, it’s now become impressed upon me. It has kept the crying cat at bay, and soothed the nine attentive owls that I can spot from my vantage point.

I once told C. Fox that I would someday discuss my living room’s delightful owl lamps. Unfortunately, that day has not yet come.

Bon Iver reminds me of winter. Cold. Minnesota. Hibernating bears. Driving in the car while the freezing wind whips against the windows, and causes them to rattle slightly. And the stark, rocky coastline of Maine, adorned in the same chill blanketing Minnesota, despite a lack of snow. My mind is transported back to over two years ago, as I visited Vacationland for the first time. Noting my pulse quicken as I caught sight of the Atlantic. Hearing the caw of seagulls in a location much more befitting of their name than where I had just come from. Feeling at home despite the utter disconnect I had with the locality.

I wasn’t lucky enough to live along this ofttimes inviting, occasionally dangerous strip of forest-meets-water. I moved inland, which turned my previously land-locked ocean cravings into a truly manic creature all its own. Example A: I have no fewer than five framed photos of picturesque coastline, dotting my home like the countless Maine islands just out of everyday reach.

On fortunate weekends I find myself near enough to the ocean to smell it, touch it, see it, and taste it. Swim in it. Now, as Bon Iver croons in his odd voice, reaching out to me with his saltwatery tendrils of memory, I calm that inner manic ocean-loving creature by thinking of this past weekend, which was spent exploring the Great Wass Island Preserve, a tract of land in Downeast Maine, acquired in 1978 by The Nature Conservancy – who I’ve previously bashed, but do truly appreciate.

Several months ago a simple seashore visit became inextricably linked with shortbread cookies purchased from a well-loved bakery. But as much as I love spending money spendily, I also enjoy making my own versions of my favorite things. In this case, shortbread. Not the ocean; that would be the ultimate in spendily expensive splurging. And by my own version, here, I of course mean Martha Stewart’s version.

Since it appeared in the March 2010 issue of Martha Stewart Living, as one of those clever, innovative punch-out recipe cards, her Walnut Shortbread has been my most frequently made item. It has also been the only item I’ve actually punched out. Gotta keep my ripped-up copies mint, ya know. I have manipulated this recipe in dozens of ways, rarely straying down a path I find distasteful. But after returning home from a trip to the seashore, it was the original recipe that I chose to go with this time around.

Make this shortbread with any nut, or combination of nuts, or mix up the vanilla extract for another flavor persuasion. Whatever it is, I’ve probably tried it with this recipe. Whole wheat flour could also be used here, but to be honest, I’m such a white flour and vanilla kind of girl. This is true – I could have just as easily written about the John Mayer CD that hides out in my bedroom. But…. I didn’t.

And while music may come and go (in a Continuum, one might say?), the ocean will always remain my first true love. Great Wass Island Preserve was a terrific place for spending a quiet day on the Maine coast. Flowering iris littered the shoreline, adjacent to waters from the Bay of Fundy and the Gulf of Maine, mixing for the first time. Inland, twisted, stunted specimens of jack pine (Maine’s largest stand, so I hear) were so strange looking that I refused to believe they were indeed jack pine. And if you go, don’t take any wrong turns – Mistake Harbor is located nearby.

Apparently, the loop that we made by taking the Cape Point Trail, then following coastline over to the Mud Hole Trail and back, equated to 5 miles. We stopped to lounge, enjoy a new bottle of SPF 45 that left me with zero sunburn, and swim in a small cove, losing track of time, but enjoying every minute of it. The hike was easy, the sights were marvelous, and after getting home, the shortbread was delicious.

Great Wass Island Preserve {a TNC venture}

Located near Jonesport, Maine

For articles on visiting the GWIP, try the following:

Portland Press Herald: It’s worth the trip

The Great Wass Island Preserve Guide

Cedarholm Garden Bay Inn Hiking Extravaganza Parts One and Two

Walnut Shortbread {recipe from Martha Stewart}

Makes 8 slices

++Ingredients:++

Oil-based cooking spray
1/2 c. walnuts, toasted
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 stick unsalted butter
1/4 c. + 3 tbsp. confectioners’ sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

++Directions:++

Preheat oven to 325° F. Coat an 8-inch round can pan with cooking spray. Grind, or pulse walnuts in a food processor, before transferring them to a bowl. Whisk in flour and salt.

Beat butter, sugar and vanilla until pale and fluffy. Slowly add walnute mixture, and beat until just combined. Transfer dough to pan. Place a piece of plastic wrap on dough, and use it to press the dough evenly into the pan (this will prevent the dough from sticking to your fingers). Cut dough into 8 wedges. Prick all over (7 holes will do) with a wooden skewer or fork – I use a chopstick for this step.

Bake until golden brown and firm in center, 30 to 35 minutes. Transfer pan to a wire rack to cool. Recut wedges. Dust with additional confectioners’ sugar, if desired.

I miss Florida. The typical crowds of older folks, out for morning walks in their matching pastel attire? Sure, they were there. But in vastly reduced numbers, as we visited in late May, after many of these snowbirds have returned to their first homes found somewhere in the north.

Florida is special to me. I was first intrigued by its coastline when a clever Reading Rainbow episode showed miles of endless (and people-less) coast strewn with perfect shells, friendly manatees waiting to be given a rub-down, and using nets to trawl for small aquatic life in a quiet, serene bay.

I was further enticed when a fall visit, several years later, found me collecting such perfect shells, watching fish jump at dusk, and spying on lazy iguanas that appeared to bask innocently in the sun. I was amazed by rays swimming near my dinner table while a hungry cat prowled underneath, and I experienced Halloween without a massive pile of leaves to jump into.

Several years later, a Christmas was spent on the beach, avoiding the raw oysters that adults claimed to enjoy, leaving my sandals behind to walk several hundred yards through a barren tidal cove, and discovering that I preferred fake crab salad to the real stuff. Everywhere, people wished Jesus a happy birthday – who is this hey-soos, I wondered? On that same trip, I spent my birthday following dolphins, whose trajectories paralleled mine on the shore, and I exploded crazy fantastic fireworks, which made me nervous and giddy at the same time.

Florida is magical.

This year’s visit took us to Sanibel Island. As a hardcore sheller and rockhound whenever shells or rocks appear underfoot, I was keen to meander along the beach, allowing my body to contour to the expected Sanibel Stoop as I searched for shells. And while the bounty was much less than it would be were it the stormier, windier wintry months, it was perfect to me.

Although I lost some earrings to the sand, I see them as buried treasure that someone will excitedly find some day – perhaps one of the old folks with their state-of-the-art metal detector? The hours that I spent on the beach and in the water were perfect. The Bell’s Two Hearted Ale available at the local convenience store was perfect. And so were the lemurs that were caged up next to us in the campground. ……Errr?

When I returned home, I was eager to capture the summery feel that was circling in my brain, fresh from a good dose of authentic Florida sun – and sunburn. Luckily, Martha Stewart never lets me down. As I write this, Martha has 2,302,982 followers on Twitter. That’s a lot of admirers to not let down. She can handle it though. Why? She’s Martha.

Waiting for me at home was an issue of Martha Stewart Living. My issues always arrive late, and tend to be ripped in odd places that normally-delivered magazines shouldn’t be ripped in. I’m convinced my mailman pilfers them for a week or two, before feeling ashamed and returning them to my mailbox. Or perhaps he’s made all the recipes. It’s the only logical explanation.

In this particular issue, there was an article on pies. In the pie article was a recipe for delight: a Strawberry Lemonade Icebox Pie. It sounded just summery enough to remind me of Florida. And it worked – it was a sweet, sugary wonder that was lovely both to eat and appreciate.

Between a filling of sweetened condensed milk, lemon juice, and egg yolks, and a magnificent heap of fresh strawberries, this pie mimicked sweet-but-tart-but-mostly-sweet strawberry lemonade to a T. And I’m pretty sure the pie itself was electric – it took all the photo editing tools I could find to decrease the brightness of the berries and lemony filling, despite taking pictures in the shade.

The recipe involved a meringue topping as well, but photos of the pie after being meringueified are not in existence. Why? Like a fool, I left the meringue under the broiler for a few minutes too long. It turned into a nasty burnt mess. I had luckily piled so much on that I could easily scrape half off and re-brown the rest, after which the taste was phenomenal, but the appearance…. less than stellar.

Still, keep the meringue. It helps to cut the sweetness of the pie. So does the graham cracker crust, which was, strangely, the first of its kind that I had ever made.

Strawberry Lemonade Icebox Pie {recipe from Martha Stewart}

Makes one summery, reminiscent of Florida, pie.

Crust

++Ingredients:++

Oil-based cooking spray
9 to 10 graham crackers, broken into pieces
1/4 c. sugar
Coarse salt
5 tbsp. unsalted butter, melted

++Directions:++

Preheat oven to 375° F. Coat a 9-inch pie plate with cooking spray. Pulse crackers in a food processor until finely ground; measure 1 1/3 cups to use. Pulse cracker crumbs, sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in food processor to combine. Add butter, and pulse until mixture is moist and holds together when pressed.

Press crust evenly into bottom and up sides of pie plate, making sure the sides and rim of the crust are firmly pressed. Freeze for 30 minutes.

Bake crust until firm and turning darker around edges, 10 to 11 minutes. Remove from oven, and reduce oven temperature to 325° F.

Filling

++Ingredients:++

1 can (14 oz.) sweetened condensed milk
2/3 c. strained fresh lemon juice (from 4 large lemons, or 5-6 small lemons)
2 large egg yolks (reserve whites for meringue), plus 1 large egg, lightly beaten

coarse salt

Topping

++Ingredients:++

12 oz. strawberries, sliced (~2 c.)
3/4 c. sugar
2 tsp. fresh lemon juice
3 large egg whites, room temperature (2 reserved from filling)

++Directions:++

Whisk together condensed milk, lemon juice, egg yolks and egg, and 1/4 tsp. salt. Pour filling into warm piecrust. Bake until center is set, 25 to 30 minutes (mine took several more minutes, as always). Transfer to a wire rack, and let cool to room temperature. Refrigerate for at least 3 hours.

Make the topping: Sprinkle berries with 2 tbsp. sugar and the lemon juice. Let stand for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat egg whites and remaining 1/2 c. plus 2 tbsp. sugar in the heatproof bowl of a mixer set over a pan of simmering water until sugar dissolves and mixture is warm to the touch, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer to mixer, and whisk on high speed until medium peaks form, 8 to 9 minutes.

Spoon berries over pie. Spoon meringue over top. Place pie under broiler, with rack in lowest position, until meringue is just browned. Alternatively, use a kitchen torch to brown the top.