Just in Time

Hey!  How are ya?  How ya doin'? This was an unexpected hiatus.  It's not like I stopped cooking.  My writing motivation has been low...hell, practically nil.  So, stick with me while I seek my writing muse to keep me going.

But, just in time for July 4th festivities, I bring you a drink that is perfect for your backyard bbq.  Lemonade is the ubiquitous Summer beverage and what fruit screams 'Summer!' more than watermelon?  Now how about we mix the two together?

I'm about to make a new batch of watermelon lemonade today.  I predict it won't be the last for the season and I'd bet that it won't be yours either.

First off...I highly recommend making simple syrup and keeping it in your fridge.  Who likes granules of sugar in their lemonade if not mixed thoroughly?  I don't.  Simple syrup sweetens perfectly and it comes in handy for adult beverages too.  Win win for all.

Watermelon Lemonade
Makes just shy of a quart

1 cup lemon juice
1/2 cup simple syrup (less or more to taste)
1 1/3 cups watermelon juice
1/2 cup water

In a blender, add roughly 4 cups of watermelon, cubed, and 1/2 cup water.  Puree watermelon.  Set up a sieve over a mixing bowl to strain the pulp from the juice.  Combine the lemon juice, watermelon juice, water, and simple syrup together in a pitcher or bottle.  Mix thoroughly.  Feel free to adjust ingredients as you see fit.  I personally love a tart lemonade, so my amount of simple syrup may still bring a big pucker to your lips.  

For the simple syrup:  Equal ratios of water to sugar.  One cup of sugar to one cup of water over medium heat until sugar dissolves.  Be sure to stir.  Once dissolved, allow to cool before use.  Will keep in fridge for at least a couple of weeks.

Not a Fluke

Or The Summer of Plums.  I love stone fruit season and we are now right at the tail end of it.  Fall is officially here, but I'm holding on for a little bit longer before jumping headfirst into the season of apples, apples, apples, pomegranates, and more apples.

While I usually cannot eat enough nectarines and peaches over the Summer, this year I was a little disappointed.  There were great fruits every now and again, but only every now and again.  Plums, though?  I had days upon days filled with black plums, red plums, a pluot here and there, and even green plums.  At season's end, I'm thrilled to find Italian prune plums (also called Empress plums, though these are a little larger) in the stores and markets.  Not typically an eating plum, I personally love the slight tartness when you bite into one that's not overripe.  I love the bright citron flesh hiding underneath the silver wax bloomed dark purple skins.

This recipe won't be for everyone.  Orange blossom water lends a distinct floral (some might say, perfumey) undertone.  If you're totally against it, you could substitute a little almond flavoring, or even a touch of orange.  But...I think the orange blossom is a small enough amount that you won't feel as though you're chewing on a bouquet.  Mind you, I am the girl who loves rose-flavored candies and can happily work through a pack of Choward's violet gum in no time.

Plum and Orange Blossom Preserves
Makes about a cup

3 cups Italian/Empress plums, chopped (about 6-8)
1/2 cup turbinado sugar
1/2 cup water
1 tsp orange blossom water

In a small saucepan over medium heat, bring all ingredients to a boil, stirring occasionally.  Lower heat and cook until reduced by about a third, 20-25 minutes.  Preserves will thicken a bit.  Store in a glass jar.  This will keep for at least a week in the refrigerator.  The possibilities?  On toast.  On French toast, instead of maple syrup (same with waffles).  Mixed with plain  yogurt and topped with granola.  Topping vanilla ice cream.  Mmm hmm...

Summer Fresh

By this point, I think you know that when it's Summer, and temperatures are dancing the thermostat higher and higher, nearing the 100 degree mark, I like to make things to eat that don't require cooking.  Okay, maybe toasting bread for a sandwich, or a quick flip of a pita over an open flame to have with an antipasti platter, but no multi burners going, and certainly no oven turned on to roast a vegetable or bake a cake.

I make a version of this soup every Summer.  Based upon a recipe for Chilled Cucumber Soup from Real Simple, it is one of those repertoire items that is difficult not to turn to again and again.  It's easy, delicious, and can take a riff or two if you are so inclined.  I originally wrote about this soup a couple of years ago and shared my version.  Here I am again with the 2014 version.  Bigger.  Badder.  Faster.  Harder.  Or something like that.

Cucumber Spinach Chilled Soup
Serves 4 (as an appetizer)

3 Persian cucumbers, peeled and chopped
3 cups spinach, fresh
2 cloves  garlic, chopped
1/4 cup onions, chopped
3/4 cup plain yogurt
1/2 cup feta cheese, crumbled
1 cup water
1/2 tsp shichimi togarashi
pinch of salt

In a blender, add the cucumbers, spinach, garlic, onions, water, yogurt, and togarashi.  Puree until smooth.  Add the feta and blend for 15-20 seconds.  I like the feta incorporated just enough that you'll still have crumbles.  Season to taste.

Note:  If you don't have togarashi, you can leave it out or substitute with red pepper flakes or even chili powder.  Alternately, if you don't want a hint of spice, you can leave it out entirely.  If you're substituting frozen  chopped spinach, I would probably cut the amount down to 2 cups.  

Taking A Cue

One blog that I read on a regular basis is David Lebovitz's blog.  You cannot go wrong with someone who has written numerous books on the subject of dessert and worked with Alice Waters.  It was his recent post on cherry compote that caught my attention, especially when he began the post claiming to have an affliction with buying too much Summer fruit when in season.  Mentally, my hand went up, guiltily, when I read that sentence, looking over the computer screen to the bowl of fruit on the table that was (and is) overflowing with plums (three varieties), nectarines, and peaches.  And let's not forget how I feel about cherries.  I get excited when cherry season arrives.  I always buy large amounts with big plans on making something truly special with them.  But then...I find myself standing at the kitchen counter, my hand repeatedly dipping into the bowl and eating one after another, after another...after another.  More times than not, I find myself with a pile of cherry pits, stained fingers, and nothing made from those glorious ruby orbs.

This Summer was looking like there would be no cherry-centric recipes made as I was on my third bowl of cherries and I still hadn't made it past the eating stage.  Then, I came across David's recipe.  Looking at the photos he posted, all I could imagine was spooning cherry compote over vanilla ice cream.  Let me tell you...since I caught strep throat last month, ice cream has been a consistent resident in my freezer.  You know...it soothed the pain of an awful sore throat.  Well...then it did.  Now, it just makes me happy.

Get out your cherry pitter (or chopstick), pit some cherries, and make this.  Be sure the vanilla ice cream is in the freezer and ready for it.

Cherry Compote
Adapted from a recipe by David Lebovitz
Makes a little over a cup

2 cups cherries, pitted
1/4 cup pure cane sugar
2 capfuls Irish whiskey (optional)
1/4 teaspoon almond extract

Pit the cherries and add to a large saucepan.  Make sure any juice from the cherries winds up in the pan too.  Add the sugar, extract, and whiskey.  Over medium heat, cook all the ingredients, until the cherries begin to break down.  Occasionally check the progress, since the cooking will cause the cherries and liquid to foam.  Since this isn't a large amount of cherries, it shouldn't be a problem if your pan is large enough.  Cook until the fruit breaks down a considerable amount and all the flavors have mingled (about 20-25 minutes).  Allow to cool for a few minutes before storing or topping ice cream.  

Notes:  I used a chopstick to pit the cherries.  It takes a little getting used to, but once you find a rhythm, it gets easier.  It's a little messy, but worth it.  Be sure to catch any juice from the cherries (there will be some).  I literally used 2 capfuls of whiskey, so if you're looking for an exact measurement, I'll guess it's close to two tablespoons.  Amaretto is another option to use, giving you a double punch of almond if you also use the almond extract, though you could substitute vanilla extract if amaretto is used. 

Adult Beverage Time

A couple of weeks ago, a friend invited me to a play at the Ahmanson Theatre downtown.  We were there 45 minutes to an hour before showtime.  It was a lovely, early Summer evening, people were milling about the venue complex, having a drink or grabbing a quick bite to eat before the show.  We did the same.  She came back from the Mexican spot carrying a tumbler that was close to spilling over.  I knew it was for me.  I guessed sangria and asked before taking a sip.  Winey, fruity, and chilled.  It was a little too sweet, but that didn't keep me from drinking the whole thing.  Just enough to take the edge off the tension of driving cross-city to get from the Westside to downtown and not being too late.

For the past two weeks, I've been thinking about that sangria.  Thinking about how much I like sangria and why have I never made it myself.  I guess I think of it as a party drink, something that you make knowing there will be at least a couple people to share it.  The first time I had sangria was just such a scenario.  A Summer get-together, with a lot of food, a lot of drink, a lot of hospitality, and a pool involved.  That just doesn't happen here.  There are no pool parties, no cook-outs, no picnics.  I can make an old fashioned for myself and it's okay.  It seems kind of silly to make a whole pitcher.  But I decided to throw those thoughts out the window and make myself some damned sangria.  It was a holiday after all.  A day with nowhere to be and if I wanted to drink the whole thing myself, I could!

Can I tell you that one of the reasons I've been hesitant to make it is because I was afraid I'd screw it up?  Crazy, right?  I thought if I was missing some crucial element it would be disastrous and that ideal in my head would be gone forever.  Silly, silly me.  So in the name of quick research, I went to Pinterest.  Trusty Pinterest.  And found the best sangria pin EVER (even among the many sangria pins I've pinned to my board!).  The pin is not so much a recipe as a GUIDE, so I know where to improvise, see what's important, and what can be cut back or eliminated all together.  It's just what I needed.

I love how it doesn't have to cost a lot, unless you're making pitchers and pitchers full.  I fully encourage taking advantage of less expensive wines.  The 3/$10.00 Tisdale wines at Sprouts was just right, and use the seasonal fruit that you'll be able to find for good prices.  You probably have Cointreau, brandy, or rum in your liquor cabinet already.  I did not drink the whole pitcher in one day.  In fact, there is half a pitcher still chilling in the fridge.  The weekend isn't quite over yet.  Come this evening, I'll be pouring a glass.

Summer Sangria
Makes 1 pitcher

1 bottle (750ml) red wine (I used the Tisdale Sweet Red)
3 oz triple sec (or Cointreau)
1 cup club soda
1 6-oz package raspberries 
1medium nectarines, cut in chunks
2 medium plums, sliced
1 medium orange, sliced 
Juice of one large orange
1 oz agave nectar
Orange slices, for garnish

In a medium to large pitcher, pour in the wine.  Add the raspberries, nectarine, and plums.  Stir.  Add the triple sec and orange juice, stirring to mix.  Add the club soda, agave nectar, and orange slices.  Mix thoroughly, tasting, and adding more agave if you see fit.  

Chill for at least 4 hours or longer.  Garnish each glass with a orange wedge before serving.  

A Taste of Summer

If there are two foods that have Summer emblazoned across their tiny little foreheads, they are corn and tomatoes.  There is nothing like biting into a home-grown tomato.  This year I actually ate tomatoes that I grew right outside my front door.  There weren't many (two), but I did it!  I've also been lucky to be given tomatoes from a friend's garden.  And I've picked up a few heirlooms at the farmers' market here and there.

Corn makes me think of family cookouts, messy fingers, and butter sliding off the cob faster than you can bite into it.  I've grown to like corn more and more over the years.  I'm pretty much a purist eating it off the cob with nothing more than butter and a sprinkle of salt.  That's nostalgia more than anything else.  Though what I really dig these days is corn salsa, bringing together both corn and tomatoes in one dish.  Fresh flavours at the height of their season.  

Here in Los Angeles, every Saturday morning from 10am to noon, you can tune into KNX on the AM dial (yes, radio!) and listen to Melinda Lee do her show, 'Food News.'  She's been on the air for years and has years and years of experience in food.  I love listening to her.  She's engaging, educational, amusing, and full of information.  Each week her show has a theme and listeners are invited to call in to ask questions...any question dealing with food and not necessarily on that week's topic.  Last week's topic was, you guessed it, corn!   I went to her website and checked out the show topic's collection of recipes and made a riff on the corn salsa recipe she posted.  It's a recipe that comes together very quickly.  Just be sure to let it sit for at least an hour after you make it, so all the flavours can mingle.

Grill some chicken, tear it into pieces...top a tostada with the chicken and the salsa and you have something really magical and full of Summer in each bite.

Corn Salsa
(Adapted from Melinda Lee's Roasted White Corn Salsa) 
Makes about 1 1/2 cups

1 cup cooked corn
1 small jalapeno, minced
1/4 cup onion, minced
1/4 cup tomato, chopped
juice from one lime
1 tbsp sherry vinegar
1 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tbsp honey
2 tbsp parsley, minced

Mix all ingredients together in a bowl and stir well.  Set aside for at least an hour, letting flavours mingle and develop.  

Holding onto Summer

You know as well as I do that when Labor Day hits on the first Monday in September, there's a shift in the season.  Despite the fact that the first day of Autumn isn't until September 22, you invariably start packing up the vestiges of Summer.  If you have kids, they go back to school and you begin to pack up the fun.    The days feel less carefree and dusk begins to arrive a few minutes earlier every evening.

But look outside...the weather isn't giving up it's heat, humidity, or beating sun just yet. September can be notoriously hot.  So, while part of you may be thinking about apple pies, hot chocolate on a chilly fall evening, or a whiskey to warm you up on a rainy Saturday afternoon, there's another part of you that doesn't want to let go of the bright, cool tastes of Summer.

The past three weeks of 90+ degree weather here in Los Angeles has made me want to put as little effort as possible into cooking.  I've baked way less than I have in months, and I am happily still in an eating rut of sandwiches where the closest thing to cooked is toasted bread and salads multiple times a day is okay by me.  The fruit bowl on the dining table has been overflowing this Summer:  plums, peaches, nectarines, berries, and melons have abounded.  I've been perfectly content standing over the kitchen sink, biting into a ripe peach, trying to keep the juices away from my shirt.  I'll think about making something more substantial, and find myself grabbing a plum and calling it a meal.

I was able to pick up cantaloupe a few days ago for practically pennies.  I think they were three for a dollar.  Since I can't resist an excellent price, I bought them.  I can easily eat half a melon sprinkled with a little sea salt and be a happy camper, but with three melons in the fridge, I knew I'd have to do something else with them.  After making July's cucumber soup, sometime over the past month I came across a recipe on Pinterest for a chilled cantaloupe soup.

Obviously, it took a few days to get the motivation up to make it.  I cut up the cantaloupe a couple of days ago with every intention of making it within hours...but as I mentioned before...this heat.  It makes me lazy.  It makes me wish I could just lounge by the pool drinking sangria.  (I don't have a pool, but I did have sangria.)

Well...I finally made it.  It was worth the wait.

Cantaloupe Soup
(Adapted from a recipe on Food52.com)
Makes 4-5 cups

2 medium cantaloupe melons, cut up (about 6 cups)
1/4 cup almond milk
Juice of one lemon
Juice of one orange
Juice of one lime
1/4 teaspoon orange zest
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons fresh basil, sliced
2 tablespoon jalapeno 
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese

In a blender, add half the cantaloupe and all ingredients except the sour cream and feta.  Blend until pureed and continually add the remaining cantaloupe.  Blend until  no chunks remain.  In a small bowl, mix feta and sour cream  until the consistency of cake frosting. 

Pour soup into bowls and top with a dollop of the feta cream.  You can also serve it as an appetizer in shot glasses (or any small glass).  

Summer Fare

When the long, hot days of Summer hit, the last thing most of us want to do is spend time cooking.  Admittedly, I have found myself baking on 100 degree days, but for the most part, I'm right there with you and don't want to cook.  I live on sandwiches when the days are sweltering.  But you cannot live on sandwiches alone and sometimes you just want something a little more refined.

My first pick is soup.  I know, I know...here we are trying to stay cool and now I'm telling you to make something that you imagine as being piping hot and best enjoyed on a cold, rainy day.  But no, it's a chilled soup, cucumber soup.  I first came across this recipe in the June 2009 issue of Real Simple magazine and have made it at least once every Summer since.  It's quick to put together in a blender, you can make it in the morning before the temperatures start to soar and stash it in the fridge to chill all day.  Take the serving suggestions from Real Simple--baguette slices, feta, olives, and salami--and with the soup, you've got a satisfying meal.

My next choice requires a little more work and some time simmering on the stove, but the pay-off is fabulous.  Dolmades--stuffed grape leaves.  They take less effort than you think.  Have them as an appetizer or as a vegetarian main course with a salad and call it a day.  I've made dolmades a couple of times and I'm still perfecting my style.  I have yet to learn that less is more when it comes to filling them.  Quite a few literally burst out of their seams when they were cooking, but in the end, they tasted amazing.  One of the nice things about stuffed grape leaves is that you can eat them warm or chilled.

Cucumber Soup
(Adapted from the Chilled Cucumber Soup recipe at Real Simple)

3/4 cup sour cream
6 Persian cucumbers, peeled, chopped roughly
3 jalapeno peppers, seeded and chopped
1/4 cup chopped white onion
juice of one lime
2 tbsp basil
salt and pepper, to taste

Throw all the ingredients in the blender and puree.  Add a little water if you need to.  Season with salt and pepper.  Let chill for at least 2 hours.  

You can also crumble the feta on top of the soup with a dash of pepper.  That way you'll have the tang of the cheese with the subtlety of the soup.  

Dolmades
(Adapted from Modern Greek)

2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 medium onion, minced
3/4 cup brown rice
20 grape leaves
salt and pepper, to taste
1/4 cup labne or Greek yogurt
1 tsp oregano

Heat the oil in a skillet over medium heat, add the onion and saute about 5 minutes until they start to soften.  Add brown rice and saute an additional 5 minutes to toast.  Season with salt and pepper.  Remove from heat and let cool for a few minutes.  

If you're using grape leaves packed in brine, rinse well.  If using fresh, blanch for a few seconds in boiling water and pat dry.  Lay leaves vein side up and add about a tablespoon of the rice mixture to the center of the leaf.  Fold sides to the center, then fold up from the bottom and roll until you've reached the top end.  Place seam side down in a skillet, packing the stuffed leaves in a tight circle as you go.  Add enough water to cover the leaves, place a plate on top to hold down the dolmades and simmer for 35-40 minutes.  

Blend labne or yogurt with oregano and spoon over dolmades.  Serve warm or cold.  I think they are better when cool, as it gives them time to set.  

A Bowl of Cherries

One of the reasons I like Summer is seeing the first crop of cherries coming into the market.  So far, I think I've gone through three or four pounds of them.  I can easily sit at the table and eat one after the other.  I've made my Cherry-Amaretto Syrup, now my favorite topping for French toast, and Cherry Almond Shortbread a couple of weeks ago for Girls' Night.  Yes, I see the pattern...I do love the tastes of cherries and almonds together.

The thought that I couldn't get out of my head was making a cherry clafoutis.  Part of the attraction was it being something that I hadn't made before and well, it was a little exotic.  I was originally under the impression that it was closer to a cake in consistency, but when I started to seek out recipes I saw the comparisons to flan.  Having not been a huge custard fan in the past, I decided it was time to change that.  You know, my egg issues.  I narrowed the choices down to three recipes (Saveur, Epicurious, and Simply Recipes).  I ended up going with the Saveur recipe, incidentally, the one that uses the most eggs.

You'll read that typically clafoutis uses unpitted cherries, so the batter can get a hint of the almond-like flavoring that the pits will release while baking, but I opted for pitting the cherries (by hand, just me and a knife, and some still very stained fingers).  Other than the time it takes to pit the cherries, this will easily come together.  I did it by hand and recommend it if you don't feel like dragging out the mixer.

It's amazing warm, dusted with confectioners sugar, just long enough out of the oven so the batter can set a little bit and nearly as good at room temperature.  Don't make me admit that it was a late lunch yesterday.  (And totally worth it!)

Cherry Clafoutis
(Adapted from a recipe at Saveur)


1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp vanilla extract
6 eggs
6 tbsp sugar
1 1/4 cups milk
2 tbsp bourbon
3/4 cup flour
3 cups cherries, pitted
pinch of salt
confectioners sugar (for dusting)


Preheat oven to 425 degrees.  Grease baking pan, pie plate, or skillet generously.  In a large bowl, whisk together the vanilla extract, bourbon, eggs, sugar, milk, and salt.  Add flour gradually until batter comes together.  


Pour batter into baking dish and scatter cherries in the batter.  Bake for 30-40 minutes  until edges and bottom are golden brown or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.  The clafoutis will puff a little while baking and deflate a little once you remove it from the oven.  


Let cool a few minutes before serving.  Dust with confectioners sugar.  

The Bounty

Between reading other blogs and hearing from friends, the typical Summer bounty of zucchini a-plenty seems to be starting.  I, on the other hand, actually have to buy it at the grocery store.  The upside?  Zucchini is pretty inexpensive.  Mind you, if there is anyone out there who lives nearby and you have an abundance of zucchini on your hands, don't hesitate to give me a call.  I would be happy to take it off your hands.

Usually I'll make zucchini-walnut cake, but this time around I wanted to throw in some chocolate.  I've seen recipes for zucchini-chocolate cake before and I figured it was time to give it a go myself.  I found an excellent recipe for Zucchini Muffins on the Simply Recipes blog/site.  As I've mentioned before, I love a recipe where you can easily swap out ingredients to suit your taste.  This one did not let me down.

Consider it...once you've had grilled zucchini, zucchini fritters, zucchini chips, and zucchini quesadillas you'll still want these muffins.  Honestly, they have chocolate in them...how could you not?

Zucchini-Chocolate Chip Muffins
(Adapted from the Zucchini Muffins Recipe on Simply Recipes.com)
Makes 6 [actually, 7...but it was half-sized]


1 1/2 cups grated zucchini
1/3 cup melted unsalted butter
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
Pinch of salt


Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.  Line muffin pan with liners or grease with a little butter.  Melt butter and set aside.  In a large bowl, combine sugar, egg, and vanilla.  Mix well.  Add grated zucchini and butter.  Stir to combine.  In a small bowl, add flour, baking soda, cinnamon, salt, and nutmeg.  Mix dry ingredients then add gradually to wet ingredients.  Add chocolate chips and stir until all the ingredients are combined.  Spoon into muffin pan, so each well is nearly full.  Bake for 25-30 minutes until tops are golden and a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.  Let cool for 5 minutes in pan before removing and finish cooling on cooling rack.  

My baking time was closer to the 30 minute mark.

From the Boring to the Sublime

Potato salad.  One of the major participants at barbecues and cook-outs countrywide.  I may be pushing the 'sublime' designation...but work with me.  With Independence Day a mere two days away (don't you hate when a holiday falls smack in the middle of the week?...it's not close enough to either the beginning or end to stretch it into a 3-day weekend), I'm sitting here thinking about a huge spread in the backyard, the table covered in red gingham, lemonade in tall glasses, playing horseshoes, the grill fired up, huge bowls of cole slaw, macaroni salad, and potato salad, watermelon, endless condiments, flies buzzing about, a sunburn from not putting on enough sunscreen, and platters of hamburgers and hot dogs.

There is one small problem...I don't have a backyard with the gingham-covered picnic table, a grill, or the horseshoes.  I can squeeze lemons for the lemonade and make the rest of the food, but on a much, much smaller scale.  I can sit out on the common patio here with a Cook-Out for One...made inside!  I'll be happy with a couple of hot dogs and potato salad.

This is going to be one of those admissions where you're probably going to say to yourself, 'How long has she been cooking?'  I honestly believe this is the first time I've made potato salad.  Truthfully.  I cannot remember making it in the past, unless the result was so horrendously awful, I have conveniently forgotten the whole incident.  When I make something like this, I could almost smack myself for thinking there was some mystery that was eluding me.  It's boiled potatoes...with other stuff thrown in!  I think a lot of the hesitation has to do with not wanting to destroy the memory I hold of certain foods.  My mom is a decent cook, and I  distinctly remember how her potato salad used to taste over all those summer cook-outs when I was growing up back East.  I'm not saying hers is the end-all-be-all of potato salads, but I can 'taste' it in my mind.  Know what I mean?


So...here I come with my own twist on a classic.  I know my mom's and most other potato salads I've eaten have hard-boiled egg in them, but I've kept it out of this version.  It's pretty short and sweet.  Measurements are estimations at best, because, well...it's how I work...at least today.  Maybe 'sublime' is too extreme a designation for something so easy...but I do believe it's far from boring.


'Sublime' Potato Salad  (okay...maybe, maybe not)
(Serves 2-4)


3 medium to large red potatoes
1/2 cups diced baby carrots
1/4 cup minced red onion
2 tablespoons chopped pepperoncini
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 tablespoon spicy brown mustard
1/2 cup mayonnaise
salt, to taste
pepper, to taste


Wash potatoes and dice into roughly 1-inch or slightly larger pieces (skin on).  Add to medium saucepan with enough water to cover and bring to a boil.  Cook until done (about 12-16 minutes).  Drain and rinse under cool water.  In a bowl, combine all ingredients and gently stir to evenly distribute mayonnaise and mustard.  I also sprinkled in a little Magic Dust Rub because that stuff is amazing!  Try to make it a day before, so everything has time to co-mingle.  

Mini-gingham!