Sunday Supper with Boss Mouse Cheese & Shorts Brewing

Sunday Suppers at the old firehouse have been gaining momentum, and I finally have a little more time to get over there and take a few photos. In addition to helping Paul as his official errand-runner and "whatever else needs to be done" person at the restaurant, and taking care of our daughter and our two sassy dogs, I am also ghost-writing a book. 380 pages so far, but I can't say more about that project. I am sworn to secrecy.

On the 18th of January, the restaurant teamed up with Sue Kurta, owner and cheese-maker of Boss Mouse Cheese, and Rachel Payne, Beer Liberator, with Short's Brewing, to dish out some fabulous food and libations to a full house.

Sue Kurta left her career in corporate finance in NYC to apprentice in Vermont, and she worked on a goat farm in Maine before purchasing a farm and moving to Kingsley, MI. In addition to raising her own animals, she makes cheese. Delicious cheese like Montasio, Swiss, cheddar, Parmesan, and Havarti. Her cheeses can be found at a few places around the area including the Blue Goat wine shop, Burritt's, The Cook's House, Little Fleet, Oryana, and Manny's. You can also find her at the Traverse City Farmers Market at Grand Traverse Commons in winter, or the Sara Hardy Farmers Market off Grandview Parkway during the summer ... but be prepared to fall in love. Sue is great fun, and her cheese is wonderful.

Rachel Payne (Beer Liberator, Short's Brewing);
Sue Kurta (Boss Mouse Cheese owner and cheese-maker);
and Chef Paul Carlson

Rachel Payne is fairly new to the Short's family, and relocated from Grand Rapids to Bellaire. Although she has worked in several restaurants and has has a degree in Hospitality Management under her belt, her passion is craft beer. Clearly. She is a smart, enthusiastic speaker, and so easy to talk to. For more about Michigan's own Short's Brewing Company, visit their terrific website.

While Paul, Noah Carlson, Mac Stinson, and Andrea Deibler were busy prepping in the kitchen, the clock struck 6 and our front of the house manager, Robin, introduced our guests and helped the waitstaff serve the first round of drinks. 

Introductions in the historic red firehouse in Suttons Bay, MI

Robin, Sue Kurta, and Rachel Payne at the bar

Everything the kitchen prepares, every single day, is made from scratch. Soup, for instance, is truly homemade each morning from simple, high quality ingredients. It does not come from a s*#co box or bag containing BHTs and who knows what else. People notice the difference, I hope--a big difference in taste, quality, and healthfulness.
The soft pretzels, which kicked off the first course with melted Boss Mouse cheddar beer cheese, were made from scratch. Flour, water, salt, yeast. That's it.

House made soft pretzels fresh out of the oven!

The pretzels (and cheddar beer cheese for dipping) were paired with Short's The Curl - Imperial American Pilsner. Next up: a grilled radicchio salad with citrus with Sue's fresh montasio. The second course was paired with Short's Space Rock - American Pale Ale.

 

The third course, served with Short's Good Humans - Double Brown Ale, consisted of a flaky beef cheek pasty (yes, we have roots in the UP and love, love those pasties) with caramelized onions and smoked butter. Rich but simple. Hearty. Perfect during a chilly winter night on the Leelanau Peninsula.

Beef cheek pasty just out of the oven

Plated pasties ready to head out of the kitchen

The fourth and final course was Andrea's beautiful lemon ricotta cheese cake with lemon whipped cream, toasted pistachios, and Hefeweizen-poached figs. This was served with Short's Snow Wheat - Hefeweizen!

The lemon ricotta cheese cake

A sincere thank you to Boss Mouse Cheese, Sue Kurta, Rachel Payne, and Short's Brewing Company for making this a wonderful evening for everyone!

 

Independence

Back patio at the Firehouse

It's been two weeks since we closed on the firehouse and we are making a great deal of progress. Sometimes it is hard for us to see it (knee deep in the pure toil of it all) but it is happening. The building itself has soul and loads of character. It is not perfect (much like ourselves) but it feels right and we hope that everyone will love it as much as we do. After a thorough cleaning and numerous coats of paint and stain, the interior is taking shape and it will soon be filled with art, tables and chairs. The exterior has a fresh coat of red paint and is ready for the new awning and fence around the front patio. The old front door, which we don't have the heart to replace, was given a coat of poly in the hopes that it will hang on just a little longer.

Last night, as I was popping in a few more plants in the back patio area, I felt at peace. Our daughter was there with me chatting about hot peppers and chocolate mint and "what the heck is okra, mom?" and I realized that everything we have done at the firehouse so far has been rooted in love--by good people and our own sweat equity. And that is deeply satisfying. An old friend stopped in the other day and said "you look lighter." Compared to the last time I saw her last summer … yes. I am feeling the levity, no question. Never mind the bags under my eyes and unkempt hair (that's what hats are for).

Paul has been burning the proverbial candles at both ends--up at the crack of dawn and at the firehouse every day making sure the work continues to move forward. One day he is painting, the next, cleaning the kitchen and mapping out equipment, up and down ladders, under sinks, on the roof, out front talking to the seemingly endless stream of people curious about what we are doing. When he gets home in the evening, rarely before 9, he is cashed. We have been doing a lot of cleaning and painting. Chelsea is there when she's not baking for Jen or competing in bike races. And I am there as often as I can be, between teaching two classes and working on final book edits. Always a deadline. But I can't stay away from the firehouse. It's become our second home.

Happy Fourth of July!

Ramping up

Here's the thing: I am teaching and working on a book, so I don't have much free time. Paul has been busy planning our new restaurant. He doesn't have much free time, either, and our dining room table is covered with papers, books, catalogs, and a computer. We've been eating in the living room, and as I write, the UPS truck is clattering down the dirt road. We are waiting for a delivery of small ware samples--more stuff to (necessarily) clutter our dining room.

False alarm.

Somehow, though, we manage to carve out enough time to do the things we love to do. For me, it is gardening, for Paul--cooking. Last night, he headed up the hill with our two dogs and our daughter and her buddy trailing behind. They poked through the woods and carefully collected two bags of fragrant ramps, also known as wild leeks. I say carefully because ramp pickers must respect the plants so there are more for next year. Same goes for morels. Don't yank those babies out of the ground, please.

By six o'clock, our kitchen smelled of vinegar, spices, and ramps, and then out came the jars. Here is the finished product:

Paul planted trays and cups of squash, tomatoes, fennel, and beets a few weeks ago, and until now, they lived under bright lights in the basement. We can finally set them outside each day so they can soak up the sunshine. I am looking forward to planting them in giant pots and in the ground, but we've got a month to go before the danger of frost is gone. This means small pots and trays will fill our kitchen (and yes, the dining room) each night. Our asparagus should be popping soon. We still haven't pruned our grape vines. Grass, dandelions, sorrel, and speedwell are choking out our once tidy rows.

There is a lot of weeding in my future.

 

Get outside and enjoy each day. Get close to the ground and smell the rich soil that ultimately feeds you and your loved ones. Plant a few tomatoes. Don't be afraid of bugs, or getting dirt under your nails.

        I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

        And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
        Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
        And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

        And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
        Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings;
        There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
        And evening full of the linnet's wings.

        I will arise and go now, for always night and day
        I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
        While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
        I hear it in the deep heart's core.

        ~ Lake Isle of Innisfree, William Butler Yeats

Building the nest

It's been a long winter. Spring has taken its time in getting here (which is good is many ways) but we are ready for warm weather and days outside planting tomatos, beans, eggplant, squash, and all the other goodies that make cooking and eating enjoyable. I can't wait for the asparagus to shoot out of the ground, and of course, to hunt for morels and ramps in the woods. With all this rain, things are sure to start popping.

We are nearly ready for our new culinary adventure and will be posting more details about our plans once everything is finalized. Stay tuned. May will be a frantic and magical month!

In the meantime ... a pair of robins decided to build their nest in the Porcelain vine that has woven itself though the beams over our patio. We can sit at the dining room table and watch them take turns tucking in pieces of grass, leaves, and sticks. Ella added the crocus to say, "welcome, fat robins and spring."

Futterwacken

Ella talked me into buying a 1000 piece Alice in Wonderland puzzle last Sunday. It was packaged in an attractive box designed to mimic a book, and over the course of the week--an hour here, 20 minutes there, jockeying all those pieces around until they fit just right--I finally finished it. I was convinced that several pieces were missing--they were either eaten by one of the dogs or sucked into the vacuum--right up until the final three clicked into place. I was very close to giving up, but determined not to deconstruct what we had built so far and toss the scrambled pieces back into the box.

It's that way with life sometimes, too.

February

 

Valentine's Day has come and gone, but I just stumbled across the photos I took of the cookies Paul and Ella made to celebrate. She has taken an interest in baking recently, and is obsessed with Cake Boss.  She talks about Buddy as though she's spent the weekend at Carlo's Bakery in Hoboken.  

Happy Holidays

Christmas Eve and all is well. We are enjoying a quiet afternoon and it is snowing. Ella is downstairs practicing on her balance beam and Paul is up to something in the kitchen. A few nights ago, we had family over and he made a rich, traditional lasagna with home made pasta and crema voltiada (Peruvian flan) for desert.

Actually, the flan was made for a cultural celebration at El’s school, but since school was cancelled on Friday, so was the celebration. It rained all day (at least at our house) and we never got the huge storm people were panicking about--though my brother, who lives a few miles north and up on a hill, had a drifted-over driveway.

Ah, the beauty of micro-climates on the peninsula.

Rain eventually turned to slush and then finally snow overnight, but it never amounted to much here. 5 inches? Draco drama. Why do winter storms now need names? It snowed, that’s all. And the plows came and pushed it off the streets and we scraped off our cars and threw a few more chunks of wood on the fire.

Crema voltiada

Flan, cherry pie, cookies, cosmopolitans, wine we picked up earlier that day during a sampling with Becky Hemmningsen at The Wine Shop at Hansen's, a delicious baguette and a loaf of sea salt fennel bread from our friends at 9 Bean Rows, venison sausage from the U.P., a variety of cheeses, and a growler of hard cider from Tandem Ciders ... plus the lasagna and salad. Heaven. I always appreciate meals like this one shared with friends and family.

Paul's nephews waiting to roll out fresh pasta for a side dish

After the kitchen was cleaned up and the kids ripped open presents and Skyped with their grandparents, we bundled up and headed outside for a few rounds of flashlight tag. It was a beautiful night: no wind, just the sound of giggles and small boots crunching in the snow.

Observations

It is the 18th of December in Northern Michigan and there are buds, some starting to open, on the lilac tree next to the deck. Our Star Magnolia has buds, too, and just might burst into a display of snow white flowers if this mild weather continues. So many plants are brandishing new growth--lavender, sage, thyme. I can't help but wonder how they will do come spring.

As I poked around the garden this morning, I saw open flowers on the scabiosa and gaillardia, and the California poppy will likely bloom today. Our lawn--what little we keep mowed--is greener, more lush, than it has been the last half of summer. For such a grey time of year, there is vibrant color if one looks closely.

It is a time of limbo--waiting for the snow to come (and inevitably go again) and waiting for the coming and going of the holidays. I page through my favorite seed catalogs to keep myself grounded when the world out there seems punch-drunk, out to lunch and addled. On days like today, when the smell of damp, rich earth overpowers the aroma of the cup of coffee I cradle in my hands, I want to do something physical. I want to dig around the ground, move stones and soil and pull out weeds, but I am held back by my aversion to cold, muddy knees and numb fingers.

So I cozy up in my little office with Blue and Sky (our parakeets) and chip away at a few writing projects. Paul has been digging into our next new culinary adventure. We are anxious and excited, and when it happens--when it moves from existing as an idea being tossed around and articulated by a group of friends into reality--it is going to be just right, Goldilocks.

Suttons Bay Floatilla Update

1,750 kayaks and canoes showed up for the floatilla in Suttons Bay--just 200 shy of the World record--but I am happy to hear that organizers want to give it another go next year. Judging by how difficult it was to cross 22 as we left the marina, Suttons Bay was busy and busy is good news for our local businesses. Part of me cringes when "tourist season" hits our normally quiet peninsula, but part of me gets it and knows that without the yearly influx of visitors, Suttons Bay would be yet one more small town that falls apart at the seams.  And we don't want that ...

One of our favorite shots of the Suttons Bay Floatilla ...
loved the Goldfish with Jaws (or is that a smile?)

  

Suttons Bay Floatilla

El and I walked out to the end of the dock in Suttons Bay today to catch the Floatilla and see how many kayaks and canoes showed up to break the World Record. We got there just before 1:00, and at first glance, it didn't seem like there were that many boats on the water. Organizers were shooting for 2000.

I am not sure what the official count turned out to be, but when the flotilla broke up, the bay turned into a colorful confetti of boats scattering back toward their beaches.

The photo I took of El taking a photo

The photo El took

More boats

The water stops for no one

The past few days have been good for the soul--good for my clan. We have been sleeping to the sound of the river, playing in the river, fishing in the river and sitting in the river. Parts of this river bed are composed of large, perfectly flat pieces of stone, so our camp chairs rest comfortably in about 6 inches of water. Crayfish, frogs and trout. Water stryders. Happy girl, happy dad, happy dogs.

Too many dirty dishes

Too many dirty dishes in the sink for just us two
I said, too many dirty dishes in the sink for just us two ...

Look at this kitchen!
Pots an' pans, ev'rywhere, it's pitiful!

Listening to Tab Benoit and trying to decide whose version of "Dirty Dishes" is better ... Tab's or Albert Collins? I have to say it's Albert Collins. Johnny Nitro, who wrote the song, died last year and there's a good article about him here: http://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/Johnny-Nitro-S-F-blues-guitarist-dies-2475017.php. Too bad I can't seem to find his version of the song on iTunes.

Looking out my backdoor ...

Mi piacciono le verdure

The Chef is in the house!

Just working here in my little office when I started to smell something absolutely wonderful wafting in from the kitchen down the hall ... this is a thing of true beauty for a family who has not dined together at home in months. I am so happy I could jump over the moon--he is back!

schlock·meis·ter

Word of the day that just popped up on my screensaver ... just about fell off my chair!

An absence of plums

Last night, as we were sitting on the patio enjoying a glass of wine, we were suddenly inundated with fruit flies and it got me thinking about about our poor old plum tree which is, aside from its leaves, naked. It is a great tree in many respects--one that hangs over the patio like an overgrown yet somehow graceful umbrella. The fruit it produces is amazingly sweet with a perfect shot of tartness. When Ella was a baby and teething, Paul kept her supplied with plum sauce ice cubes and made lots of plum jam. But this year? Not one plum due to the weirdly warm spring and following frost. I dug through my photos this morning and found this one from last fall:

The fruit was so heavy it caused one third of the tree to split off and it crashed to the ground destroying a good section of our perennial bed. There were so many fruit flies around the patio we could hardly stand to be out there. I pushed plums off the patio with a snow shovel and the plums just kept coming down day after day. The fruit flies multiplied into clouds and started riding into the house on our arms and legs and in our hair.

At that time, we were also experiencing a banner tomato crop--coveted Green Zebras, Cherokees, Sun Sugars, Black Pearls, you name it we probably had it. We had to move all the tomatoes we were picking  outside to the patio table because our kitchen was becoming crazy with fruit flies. But then, another dilemma. Who knew our shepherds would love tomatoes so much?

Mickey's Mixology

Mickey Humpula, who has worked with Chef Paul Carlson for several years (first with us at the Hearth & Vine and then at another restaurant), was featured in the Summer 2012 issue of Edible Grande Traverse in a wonderful article by Patty Lanoue Stearns.  Mickey, as those who know him, is an exceptional person on so many levels: kind, professional and pure pleasure to be around. Cheers, Mickey, to a bright future no matter what you decide to tackle--you know we support you and will always be your biggest fans! Mickey is currently working with Epicure Catering and (hopefully) spending plenty of time outdoors enjoying this gorgeous Leelanau Peninsula summer.

For the online version of the article, click here--it's much easier to read .... plus, you'll be able to see all the great articles this award-winning publication has to offer. A huge thank you to Charlie Wunsch & Barb Tholin at Edible Grande Traverse for including Mickey in this excellent publication!

Click here for the online version of this article

Click here for the online version of this article

Please click here for the online version of "Liquidity: Cocktails a la Leelanau" at Edible Grande Traverse - Celebrating the Foods of Northwest Lower Michigan, and to see what other terrific articles this award-winning local publication has to offer.

Final night at the cafe

Last night, we served our last gourmet pizzas for the season, poured our last glasses of wine, and after the doors closed, had a few sazerac toasts to a productive summer and a really great crew. It was so nice to have Steve and Renae stop by and be there for our final night, as well as a number of our regulars--thank you. It was a bittersweet evening!

Heidi, Paul, Laura, Chelsea & Mickey

Saying good bye to the H&V cafe ...

It is finally here--Saveur Thyme's last day at the Hearth & Vine Cafe--and beginning tomorrow, we embark on a new adventure.

Our sincere thanks to our wonderful customers and staff for an amazing summer at the Hearth & Vine cafe. We hope you to see you again!