|
|
|
The Weekly Newsletter for July 21, 2014
|
|
Forget to order your Dinner To Go? How 'bout for lunch?
|
Dear friends,
Our friend Renee gave me a gentle nudge a few weeks ago - she really wants to be able to consider ordering the Dinner-To-Go on Mondays, but my publication hasn't always been in her mailbox in time for consultation. You betcha! Love you, Laurey's faithful fans, and so happy to be on your To-Do list!
I thanked her for the support, and we thank you for reading this newsletter, and thank you for thinking ahead, and always always we thank you for coming in!
I must confess that my own schedule is too unpredictable, these days, to know in advance just when I am going to order dinner at Laurey's.
The other evening, Fred and I met at Laurey's: I had finished my day at Brunk Auctions, Fred was on his way to rehearsal for the Asheville Lyric Opera's summer production of "South Pacific" (a gem!).
As we love to do, we pondered our selections from the case, delighting in perfectly rare flank steak, marvelously baked salmon, Parmesan Potatoes, Fresh Corn Salad (a dream!), Broccoli Salad, Fresh Fruit salad. A sweet, fast, delicious and delightful way to linger after work and before evening plans.
And a humorous reminder - if you haven't planned ahead, it's almost always possible to plan AFTERWARD, at least about dinner at Laurey's.
Most of the time we keep complete Dinners-To-Go packed fresh and ready in the deli case ('way on the left - RIGHT next to the desserts! You know you deserve it!) - - AND a few special selections can be found in the Grab n' Go, near the casseroles, pies, and salads ready to hop into your lunch pail.
We love catering, and we love breakfast-ing, and we love the whole darn thing. And you. Thank you!
|
|
Dinners to go for the week
|
Here are dinners to go for this week. This, if you do not know, is a fabulous way to have dinner. It's easy - just call us by noon and your dinner will be ready for you to pick up by 3 that very day.
You can stop by to pick yours up until we close at 8.
Add salad (3.25) or bread (1.25) if you like.
Monday, July 21
Grilled BBQ Chicken with Thyme Cream Corn $8.95
Tuesday, July 22
Crepes Florentine with Summer Vegetable Antipasto $7.95
Wednesday, July 23
Beef Stuffed Poblanos with Corn and Rice $9.95*GF*
Thursday, July 24
BBQ Spare Ribs with Kale Salad $9.95
Friday, July 25
Grilled Sriracha Buttered Shrimp Skewers over Creamy Orzo $10.95
....and here is the entire July menu!
|
|
Casserole and Lasagnas to go !
|
Casserole of the Week
whole serves (9) ~ half serves (4)
Wednesday, July 23 Local Sausage, Rosemary Roasted Chicken and White Bean Cassoulet Whole $48/Half $22.50
Lasagna of the Week
whole serves (9) ~ half serves (4)
Friday, July 25 Spinach and Artichoke Whole $42/Half $21
|
|
Our dear Whitney dropped in with darling Tye this week - I missed her whirlwind visit, but Emily popped this loving doggie grin into my phone. What a treat!
Doesn't she look great? You can just see her, can't you? - - waggling her entire body with joy, greeting all the old gang.
Just being a dog. Excellent.
*sigh*. We are thrilled beyond thrilled to think of her so.
|
|
Laurey's notes (from a lifetime of writing)
|
[So much has been written about Laurey and her life projects, but of course the best spokesman is Laurey herself. In this column we present archival reprints of her messages. This is an early newsletter from her online records.]
August 28, 2004
Ah. The final weekend of August. I have been up for a long time and it is still just mid morning.
I coaxed the pup out of the house early this morning. I needed to meet our grill master at the shop so he could pick up the main course for a big 50th anniversary party we are catering tonight. These dark mornings settle in, reminding me that we are moving away from the fullest days of light. The transfer of the dinner ingredients took only a few minutes, leaving me a lot of time for the morning walk. But it was still pitch dark outside and I did not feel like anything except maybe a bit more sleep, so I took Tye home where we both settled back onto or into the covers for a half hour snooze.
The walk at the lake was active. There are two chipmunks (I know I've mentioned them before) who hover near their trees or lakeside dwellings, taunting enthusiastic pups. Tye can barely stand it. She quivers with excitement, bounds, leaps, and pounces. Every single time. And she always misses. The chipmunks scoot away, giggling, no doubt, at their escape. "Ha!"
I have been seeing a small Blue Heron at the lake edge with pretty regular frequency this summer. But this morning I saw a Great Blue, which took off with a squawk as we rounded a cove, startling me. The Canada Geese have returned, settling in before their trip North (or maybe just settling in for the duration.) They gather in an inlet, paddling and griping as we come by. And a flock of Mallards, I've noticed, now paddles around near the dock. Today there was one big fat white duck in the middle of the bunch of dark beauties, and, stunning me, a beautiful White Heron. It took off when we neared, graceful and sleek and, well, very white in the fog. A White Heron. What does this mean?
The flowers in the shop, the ones from last week, finally started to droop so we stopped up at the North Asheville tailgate market for replenishments. I bought six bunches of zinnias and sunflowers from Hickory Nut Gap Farms and skipped off to my car. And even though everyone could see more in the market's stands, people "oohed" and "aahed" as I walked by. I'm a real sucker for bright reds and yellows, so I gushed too.
 We're headed to the beach next weekend, the gang of us. I have a new kite, the name of a new restaurant, a rented van, and an excited group. It should be fun to jump around in the warm water for a couple of days. I'm a mountain gal, but it is nice to go away to the coast every now and then, right?
Oh, in the way that these things happen, we are also catering a wedding today. A wedding and a 50th anniversary party in one day. These things give me hope. How about you?
Take care and come see what the farmers have brought us this week.
[source: Laurey's Cafe and Catering newsletter, August 28, 2004]
|
|
Talented and Interesting Individuals - 10 years ago!
|
[For the next few issues, we're running Laurey's notes from 2004 about her extraordinary staff - we thought you'd enjoy her celebrations of their longevity, and now even more so!]
[Emily and Adam, of course, now lead the show here at Laurey's.]
July 31, 2004
More big news!
 You met Emily, our "office gal extraordinare" last week.
This is Adam, the co-manager of the shop. He has kept things running smoothly for us for a couple of years now, improving the systems, training and maintaining the staff, the product, the overall look and feel of the front.
In his other life, Adam is a composer, a fellow who makes music of the computer variety. He spins for dances, records, tinkers, plays. Actually, he has his first CD coming out at the end of August - which is a very big deal! (We'll see if we can get some here for you.)
The big news for these two is that they have just decided to get married. They've known each other for eight years, I think, but still, it is a grand decision and it will be fun to share their excitement as time goes by. Emily is a Baltimorean so the whole shebang will take place later on this year in the land of the Blue Crab. But you can wish them well from here just the same.
Congratulations, you two!
[source: Laurey's Cafe and Catering newsletter, July 31, 2004]
|
|
Cooking at the Seasonal School of Culinary Arts
|
Did it. Done. Happy. Thrilled, in fact.
Dear readers, perhaps you recall a few weeks ago my slightly shy announcement that I was going to represent Laurey's in a cooking class. I delivered the news with some trepidation. It was received with a shout of support from you, but some bemused incredulity from other folks, who may not be fully aware that if you are the daughter of Elsie Masterton, you are supposed to say "Yes" when presented with a challenge of this sort.
As the day of teaching at Susi Seguret's Seasonal School approached, I tried to remind myself that though the content of Laurey's classes was always marvelous, beautifully delivered and executed, the planning could be somewhat seat-of-the-pants, especially as she advanced in her accomplished career in the world of food, cooking, cooking demonstrations, and classes.
She'd mutter about not being sufficiently prepared, at least as she planned the events. Nonetheless she'd pile into her vehicle, packed with baskets and linens and fresh gleaming foods, her head crammed with stories, and wow the audiences. They fell in love with her, her bright presentation, her adoration of local wares, her infatuation with tastes, and deep respect for farmers.
So the date approached and I worried a little. I chose my recipes, (Elsie's Biscuits! Laurey's Cafe Kale Salad!) consulted with the staff about logistics, and set up a lesson/demo from the team at Laurey's kitchen on how to produce the lovely Kale Salad. Lito sweetly swung me through the steps, and I snapped photos of each stage, to set the ingredients in my head.
The night before, I shopped for local kale, carrots with fronds intact (bright and crisp! great!), snagged Cabot Creamery butter, whole buttermilk, and then turned to the boxes of utensils from Laurey's personal kitchen, and from mine. I am a sucker for old aluminum baking tools, and Laurey of course likes anything in rainbow colors, so it made quite an armful.
 I brought Laurey's books, Laurey's Stoney Knob Gold honey amulets, and our mother's books, too. I photocopied Elsie's Blueberry Hill Cookbook recipe and typed my version of Lito's lesson to hand to the class.
Oddly enough, part of my quandrary was what to wear? Laurey's red chef coat fits me, but I am not a chef. Need to earn that to wear it. I slipped on Laurey's blue Crocs for luck, a red T-Shirt from Laurey's ("Sure beats making it yourself!"), and Fred's gift, an apron with the Borden cow "Elsie". So much for talismans.
What a dream of a class and a class room, up at Warren Wilson. Everybody had their chopping station, and we formed and re-formed into groups to assemble a full lunch menu. I chatted with the ladies about the books, our life at Blueberry Hill, my self-identification as a baker (Laurey says you are mostly a cook, or mostly a baker. Bakers have to be chemists, more or less - so that's me.)
We hopped through a honey-tasting, the story of the amulet (one-twelfth of a teaspoon, the work of the entire lifetime of one bee!), Laurey's devotion to local ingredients, and her passion for taste and beauty in preparation and on the table.
We chopped and roasted the red and yellow peppers (never green! not Laurey's!), swirled in red onion. I wafted the roasting trays under the noses of the class - "Ooooh! That smells terrific!" "Ooooh! That's beautiful!". Explained that the recipe guide (350 for 10 minutes) might not be just right - for that oven, with that variety or age of vegetable. My joy in the process soon swamped any concerns about my place in the room. We ripped and stripped the kale ("Place the back of the rib into your palm, and just grip it, slide it down": "Wow!" That's easy!"
 "You can chop it from here. Or just sit down to an old Tony Curtis movie, something you don't really care about, and just drift along. Squeeze the whole stripped leaf in your hand, and keep plucking off the bits that stick out, get the pieces down to under an inch."
We massaged a balsamic dressing into our little kale bits, I encouraged them to keep sampling, to see how much more tender they were as we went along. "Really!"
And when it came to the biscuits, well, there you are. Elsie's original biscuits are TINY - maybe an inch across. So we experimented with little cutters - of course, the right size was buried in a box, so I brought my Waterford pony glasses, which I COULD find. And some traditional biscuit cutters. In the event, the winning biscuit cutter was the plastic top of a cosmetic bottle, deep enough and sharp enough and almost small enough.
Elsie's biscuit dough is soft soft soft - tough to resist loading it up with flour to give it some heft. Each student appreciatively patted and plumped it, took turns cutting out the little rounds... "They're so tiny!", co-operated in measuring the variety of wet ingredients - "Really!? Milk AND buttermilk AND sour cream?" And 1/8 of a teaspoon - -what your grandmother probably called a pinch - - of vanilla, and of sugar. (I know, I know, no sugar in a Southern biscuit.)
But these little dreamers flew in and out of the convection oven - to my relief, the class was also mildly distrustful of them. Solidarity. Love it.
And we POUNCED on these biscuits, stopped cooking and just sat down to devour them, spread with Cabot Creamery butter and Laurey's precious Stoney Knob Gold honey - "It tastes like flowers!".
We ate the Waterford pony glass ones and the cosmetic-lid-biscuit-cutter ones and the re-worked, slightly lumpy ones, and the last-batch falling-apart ones. I coached them, "Eat the failures first! Don't let 'em out of the kitchen!"
And we just plain loved 'em.
And at the end, we all sat down at the lovely tables, sat to Laurey's bright glistening green Kale Salad. Mary, the really terrific chef for the rest of the marvelous lunch, leaned over for a hug, whispered in my ear, "This is fanTASTic!!".
Yay.
- from Heather Masterton
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
