Up North (and everywhere else!)

 

I know, I know….  Emails have been coming in asking where have my blogs been lately, seeing if I am okay, and my favorite-  “I can’t drink my morning coffee without your blog in front of me!”  You are all so sweet.  I am madly trying to get my culinary cellar rehab project going, both in the basement and on my “new” blog look, both which will be happening in the next few months.  Added to those projects is a massive amount of travel, for me anyway.  I am not the world’s best traveler; I don’t like flying but realize there is not much choice if I want to do the things I want to do.  In the next five weeks, I will be going to Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco, possibly New York City, and my first trip to ITALY!  Add these trips to my Seattle and Alaskan cruise trip a few months ago, and I will have traveled more in ten months than I ever have before.  All this travel means lots and lots of photos and future blogs.  But in the meantime, I want to share this lovely little cookbook with you.

 

Just the title alone would have sold me on this book.  ‘Northwoods” conjures up thoughts of log cabins, warm cozy fires, blankets, fresh gentle snowfalls,  and quiet serene forests.  It also means wild rice, morels, cranberries, chili, pot roasts,  pumpkins, and bowls of comforting soups with hot breads.  This cookbook has it all- venison chili, cabbage bisque, roast duck, lake trout, pumpkin tarts, and a cranberry tartar sauce; everything from soups to desserts.  So many of these ingredients are right outside the door at “Up North” locations.  When my husband travels to Upper Michigan, he brings back  Lake Superior smoked whitefish, thimbleberry jam,  fresh-picked wild blueberries, wild rice, and of course, meat-filled pasties. 

 

In the next few weeks, I am looking forward to crab in San Francisco,  the fancy food of LA and Vegas, and of course, tasting authentic Italian food, but I guarantee when I return home, the trees will be full of glorious color and a good, hearty chili will be simmering on my stove.  And the first snowflake can’t be too far away.