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This morning on our way to school we saw a woman huddled in a doorway, trying to pull on a coat. She was struggling with the coat, maybe her hands weren’t cooperating after a night on the street in this miserably cold, wet weather. She was leaning against a wheelchair covered with a blue tarp and smiling at people walking by on their way to work or somewhere warm. My son noticed that she was sitting very close to a sign that read No Soliciting, No Loitering, No Camping. “That’s not right” he said. “Where is she supposed to go?”

I’ve been thinking a lot about physical and emotional discomfort lately and the silver linings and opportunities this discomfort and pain has afforded me as discussed here last week. I have been able to do so, in great part, because I have a warm place to live, good health insurance and a strong, loving support network.

Seeing as I am now a bit more familiar with pain and suffering, I am also more affected by witnessing the hurt and discomfort and pain all around me. Pain that probably doesn’t afford much musing about silver linings  Living on the streets with no where safe and warm to go must be just awful. I hate being cold and wet, hate it!

What can I do? What can we do? We can look, we can see people, acknowledge them and find small and large ways to share what we have and provide comfort in these cold, wet times.

There are wonderful organizations devoted to providing stability and a sense of community in most places I’m sure. Here in Portland I look to Streets Roots and Sisters of the Road for such comfort.

This journey with cancer has been full of contradictions. I’m nearing the end of almost five months of chemotherapy. I can’t wait to be done with this part of the journey, yet this time has been valuable and there is much I want to do while I’m still relatively weak. I’m learning that I’m able to access parts of me, new thoughts and feelings, and see openings for change I never imagined. There is at once a clarity and an ongoing exploration of who I am in this, most vulnerable state, that is precious and not to be missed.

 

For one, this process has emboldened me. I walk around with my bald head and about six remaining eyelashes, looking like what I used to be afraid of . . . .but no more.  We are all so much more than meets the eye and we are all, I’m sure of it, capable of embracing and managing far more than we think.

 

Since chemo will come to an end, thankfully, maybe I can learn how to access this realm even when I’m physically stronger. That is my hope. Change, even when you see the path forward, doesn’t necessarily happen quickly. Surgery and ongoing treatments in the new year will probably afford me plenty of time to continue this introspection and growth and you can all remind me of this post when I’m sick and tired of being sick and not so circumspect!

 

This time of relative isolation and fewer outside demands has also afforded me plenty of time in the kitchen and I’ve felt (surprisingly) creative. I’ve developed dozens of new recipes and because of my chemo-altered tastebuds many of them are bright and spicy and strongly flavored, cutting through the chemo funk!

 

Those new recipes and hundreds more are in the Seasonal Recipe Collection. A subscription to the collection also makes a nice gift to any cooks, or aspiring cooks. . .

 

Spicy Cabbage & Sausage Fried Rice

This is a simpler fried rice than my typical ones–no eggs, no soy or fish sauce–just ginger, garlic, pepper, cabbage, pork and rice, basically. It’s extra pretty with red cabbage but delicious with red, green or savoy.

 

Serves 4

 

2 tablespoons oil
1/2 onion, finely chopped
3 scallions, white and green parts, separated, all thinly sliced
1 tablespoon finely chopped ginger
2 large garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon Szechuan pepper corns, ground in a spice grinder or mortar (or scant 1/2 teaspoon black pepper in a pinch though the Szechuan pepper is really what makes this so good)
4 ounces pork sausage, crumbled
1/2 teaspoon hot pepper flakes or 1 Serrano chile, minced
6 cups shredded red cabbage
Salt
3 cups cooked rice, cold (fresh, hot rice is too sticky for fried rice)
1/3 cup cilantro, chopped
Lime wedges, for serving

 

Heat the oil in a wok or large skillet until very hot. Add the onion and scallion white parts and cook for a couple of minutes. Add the ginger, garlic, Szechuan pepper, hot pepper and cook for another minute. Add the sausage and stir well and cook for about 2 minutes, still over high heat. Add the cabbage and a few generous pinches of salt and stir well. Cook for 3 more minutes. Add the rice and mix in well and cook until heated through and crisping in places. Taste and adjust seasoning. Stir in cilantro and scallion greens and pass lime wedges and serve immediately.

I marvel at human resilience and kindness. Defying all odds people exhibit joy, gratitude, and generosity wherever I look. I remember last winter buying a Street Roots collection of poetry that, without irony, was titled Gratitude and filled with words and artwork by people without homes.

I also marvel at human capacity for normalization. How did I go from, “Oh god, cancer!” to “This type of chemo is so much easier to take, and I look forward to surgery.”  And I  do not mean to compare being homeless and having cancer, in my case with all the privileges and resources imaginable. . . Being sick has just made me see those around me with challenges, small and large, more vividly.

Thanks to this easier type of chemo I’m also more fully enjoying the beautiful community I have in my medical team. One of my chemo nurses is Austrian American and has been looking for a good spaetzle recipe and technique. So we’re having a good time at chemo every Thursday talking about my spaetzle tests and what technique (cutting board and knife) works best. Recipe to follow here once I can taste more fully again!

I’ve taken to bringing in cookies to my oncologist and nurses who work to heal me every week. Food will always be the center of joy and camaraderie for me. It’s healing for me to be able to talk about and share these treats and ideas with the people whom I happen to spend a lot of time with these days, people I never imagined I would encounter, other cancer patients and medical folks alike. I love people and I am so grateful to the dozens and dozens of you all who are making this journey joyful and humorous much of the time.

These days I don’t always rinse out plastic bags to dry and put away for future use. I compost food we can’t get through or I can’t taste. I drive everywhere. I order endless supplements online and cringe at all the packaging and recycle/garbage.

Before cancer/chemo I had an epic plastic bag collection; truly a bag for every possible need or scenario. Food was not wasted, really ever, and biking everywhere was my greatest joy. Biking also gave me such satisfaction, in knowing I was reducing traffic congestion just a smidgeon and keeping that air just a wee bit cleaner.

I also occasionally wondered to myself why others didn’t find both the same joy and righteous pride in these things that I did.

These days, days of utter exhaustion and limited capacity (and joy too) I no longer wonder about others’ priorities. I wonder mostly about the challenges we all face. I wonder how we can set ourselves up as a communities, culture, society, where we can care for ourselves and tread lightly on the planet at the same time. The questions are so big and so manifold that I don’t know where to begin. Please comment with your thoughts on the matter!

Our lives, everyones lives, are precious and so is this planet. As Kathleen Dean Moore so beautifully articulates in her piece Wonder, Bread in the most recent addition of Oregon Humanities, our planet is sacred too.

 

This does not look like my typical mid-summer blog post photo. It is not a typical mid-summer.

I have just been diagnosed with breast cancer and have been learning about foods to nourish me during this journey–chemo therapy and eventually surgery. I am eating tons of fresh vegetables but I am also eating more plant based fats and no more sugar or much in the way of animal products. There is a lot of interesting research on diet vis a vis breast cancer, though I have to say my diet to-date has been pretty darn near ideal to have lowered my risk for this situation so the learning curve has luckily not been as steep as it might have been.

I hope to share my culinary explorations throughout this caper here as I intend to make this as delicious and nourishing a time as possible.

I’ve been making batches of the goodies above: a rich tahini sauce (the latter half of the linked recipe) inspired by the Zahav cookbook using the tahini they use which is better than any I’ve ever tasted. I top vegetables with this creamy sauce/spread, I thin it out to dress salads, I spread it on bread, and eat it by the spoonful, mix it with roasted eggplant for baba ganoush etc.

Having a ready made vinaigrette on hand means that I can dress up any vegetable, cooked or raw, at a moments notice.  It is the difference between wanting to eat veggies rather than moping that I’m not eating any cookies these days!

And the Gingery Date & Nut Balls come in where the cookies used to be. I look forward to developing a local (Oregon) version of these with dried prunes and hazelnuts instead of the dates and pecans I’ve been using.

Finally, here’s a shot of the (beginning of the) vegetable broth that will be key to my therapeutic fasting before, during and after chemo each time. I’ll devote a whole post to this part of the regimen soon.

Gingery Nut & Date Balls

These are fragrant thanks to the ginger, cardamom and cinnamon and rich from the nuts, fruit, tahini and cocoa.

2 cups nuts (hazelnuts, pecans, walnuts, almonds. . .or any combination of those or others)
6 large pitted, medjool dates
3-4 tablespoons tahini
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger
½  teaspoon ground cardamom
2 teaspoons cocoa powder
Pinch sea salt

Process nuts in food processor until finely ground. Add dates, spices, tahini, salt and process again until it starts to form a ball. Roll the mixture into balls and then roll in shredded coconut. Refrigerate and enjoy!

Happy Summer and Happy Cooking!

 

Many Koreans eat kimchi, the fermented cabbage and/or root dish everyday, with-or in most meals. Dals, the split lentils, peas or beans cooked into a savory stew with spices, grace tables over all over Southeast Asia, particularly Indian, Pakistan, and Bangladesh and are often simply enjoyed with rice–a protein rich, inexpensive meal.

I am interested in these cultural/culinary traditions, in part because of their daily consumption (with plenty of variation). There are certainly things I eat regularly and I am more and more interested in simplifying and finding variety in nuance and combinations rather than completely new sets of ingredients each day. Having a CSA or shopping at famers’ markets is a good guide as the vegetables change week to week or month to month but the surrounding staples, like shelf-stable fermented foods and long-lasting dry/staple goods like lentils and beans provide constant comfort, if you will.

Both kimchi and dals have infinite variations, from family to family and region to region. I have been making both for a decade or so and have barely scratched the surface of these iconic dishes, learning slowly from folks who grew up with these foods, central to their culture and identity. Sauerkraut is my cultural equivalent (to the kimchi) and though I like it I am much more drawn to the spice and complexity of its Korean cousin.  Tis the season here in the Pacific Northwest for Napa Cabbage, the most central of kimchi ingredients and I will be starting a batch today.

And I particularly love red lentils; the cook quickly, my son loves them, and they’re just plain delicious and easily imbued with all sorts of spices and herbs.

Simple Red Lentil Dal

This takes 20 minutes (at the most) to make and is richly flavored. It’s delicious just with rice or with Sautéed Chard with Ginger, Jalapeño and Sausages or with stewed meats or other vegetables or grains. It is superb the next day and freezes well so by all means double the recipe. You can also stir leafy greens such as spinach, turnip, beet or mustard greens into the lentils a few minutes before they’re done

Serves 4

1 1/2 cups red lentils
1/2 an onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/2 jalapeño, thinly sliced (omit seeds if you’re nervous bout the heat level) or a whole one if you like spice
Salt
3 cups water
1 1/2 tablespoons oil or ghee (clarified butter)
1 1/2 teaspoons cumin seeds
2 teaspoons brown/black mustard seeds
1 1/2 teaspoons ground turmeric

Put the lentils in a large sauce pan with the garlic, onion, Jalepeño and water. Bring to a boil and then turn down to a simmer and cover partially. Cook gently for about 12-15 minutes until the lentils are tender and beginning to fall apart.

In a small skillet heat the oil or ghee. When it’s shimmering add the mustard and cumin seeds and stir well. They will begin to pop and spit after 20 seconds or so. Add the turmeric, stir well and cook for another few seconds. Take off the heat and pour all of the spices and oil (scrape out well with a spatula) into the lentils along with 1 teaspoon salt and stir in well and cover. Garnish with chopped cilantro and season to taste with more salt if needed.

Want to enjoy the freshest produce? Get a CSA.

 

Want to become a better cook? Get a CSA.

 

Want to keep your $$ in your community? Get a CSA.

 

Want to expand your/your children’s/family’s palate? Get a CSA.

 

Want to save money? Get a CSA. (Because when you already have all that produce you will likely not go out to eat because you want/need to eat the food you’ve already paid for and because if you stock your pantry well and get those weekly veggies you will spend less because you’ll run to the store less. Buy a case or two of lovely white or rose and spend summer evenings on your porch with your veggies and your wine! . . . want to find me? That’s where I’ll be!)

 

Want to feel connected to your community? Get a CSA.

 

Want to really be in tune with the seasons? Get a CSA.

 

Worried you’ll miss the farmers’ market? You can still go and buy fruit and whatever else you’re craving! But get a CSA too!

 

CSA is not for everyone. If you travel lots during the summer it’s not your best bet. If you hate to cook, don’t get one either:)!

 

I love my CSA for the above reasons. If you’ve been thinking of giving it a try, now’s the perfect time. I work with many CSA farms including these below. If I haven’t covered your region look here or here.

 

 

And in someone else’s words:

 

“I just wanted to let you know that I cooked up a batch of your Sweet Hot and Sour Eggplant the other day and it is absolutely fantastic.  I didn’t have any fresh peppers, so I just chopped up a bunch of Ayers Creek dried cayennes and cooked them down with it.  It’s an easy recipe to throw together, requiring no trips to the store (always nice) and very delicious.  I served it alongside some sesame and scallion udon noodles I got the idea for from whatsername on the NYTimes.  Melissa Clark. Anyway, they played well together.  Thanks for yet another recipe that makes me seem like a better cook than I actually am!” Giana, Portland, OR

 

Creamy, Spiced Peas, Turnips and Cabbage
–Inspired by Quick & Easy Indian Cooking by Madhur Jaffrey

 

The complex flavors in this dish belie the speed with which it comes together. It is a good template as many different vegetables can be used and you can add meats or seafood as you like. I use whatever combination of vegetables I have on hand. You could use asparagus, snap peas and spinach or potatoes and green beans  or winter squash and cauliflower. . . You can also just use a single vegetable.

 

I sometimes serve it with barely hard cooked eggs to turn this into a meal, with rice.

 

Serves 4

 

For the sauce:

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon garam masala
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes, more to taste
2 tablespoons tomato paste or 2-3 roasted (frozen) tomatoes, finely chopped
Scant 1 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon  lemon juice
1/2 cup chopped cilantro
3 tablespoons oil
Generous 1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
Generous 1/2 teaspoon brown or yellow mustard seeds
1 small bunch Salad Turnips or 1 large regular turnip, diced (no need to peel if you’re using salad turnips). By all means use the tender stems and leaves of salad turnips, chopped, if you have them, as well
1/4 small cabbage, cored and chopped fairly finely
2 cups fresh, shelled peas or 1 10-oz bag frozen peas or trimmed and chopped snap peas
Rice for serving

 

I sometimes serve it with barely hard cooked eggs to turn this into a meal, with rice.

 

In a small bowl stir together the cumin, garam masala, salt, red pepper flakes, tomato (paste) and 2 tablespoons water. Whisk in the cream, lemon juice and cilantro and set aside.

 

Heat the oil in  large saucepan or deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add the mustard and cumin seeds and wait until they start popping, 10-20 seconds typically. Add the turnips and cabbage and couple pinches of salt. Stir well and cover and cook for about 5-7 minutes until the vegetables are almost tender. Add the peas and cook for a few more minutes until tender and heated through. Stir the sauce into the vegetables and simmer for 2-3 minutes until thickened a little. Taste and adjust seasoning with more lemon and/or salt and hot pepper to taste.

 

Serve hot over rice. I like to serve it with just barely hard-cooked eggs–eggs covered in cold water, brought to a boil, then removed from heat and left sitting, covered in their hot cooking water for 7 minutes, then drained and peeled.

 

 

Constraints really are the mother of creativity. In this case the constraints were: 1) what’s available, any given morning, in my pantry and puny garden in early spring, and 2) what my 9-year-old might/will eat in his school lunch. He loves mortadella sandwiches and I had indulged by buying this classic Italian lunch meat a few times but a few weeks ago I was out of it.

He’s always been one to prefer herbs (cilantro, parsley, basil) as the green in his sandwich but I didn’t have any of those either. I did have sorrel! It’s a perennial and does well with no care or attention and starts leafing out this time of year. It’s tender, nice and tart and really a perfect sandwich green. With no mortadella, a hard cooked egg stood in, all dressed with plenty of salt, pepper and olive oil. Add a thin layer of sharp cheddar and the new favorite sandwich was born. I always have eggs, they don’t go bad (as mortadella can do rather quickly). Cooking with what I had turned into a winner and I’ve taken to eating these sandwiches too though I add quickly pickled onions to mine (just thinly sliced and marinated in red wine vinegar for at least 10 minutes 0r up to many weeks–I keep a jar of them on hand).

And speaking of cooking-with-what-you-have, I’ve just posted a cooking class on said subject: How to Set Yourself up for Success: Tricks, Favorite Dishes & Pantry Stocking for Everyday Cooking. Register here if this sounds useful/fun.

 

These muffins are not particularly springy, but they are particularly good! Lots of nutmeg, freshly grated if possible, make these chewy-but-airy little treats sing. And grate those carrots on the small holes of the box grater and you’ll end up with an elegant texture for this otherwise rustic muffin. My son endorsed them heartily for breakfast, school snack, after school snack and bedtime snack!

Yields 12 muffins

1 cup rolled oats (not instant oats)
3/4 cup whole wheat flour (I’ve used Emmer flour, barley flour as well as regular whole wheat pastry flour in these, all with great results)
3/4 cup all purpose flour
1 teaspoon nutmeg (freshly grated if possible)
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup packed cup finely grated carrots (about 2 medium)
1 cup plain yogurt (preferably whole milk)
2 eggs
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, melted

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Lightly butter or oil a 12 cup muffin tin.

In a medium bowl combine the flours, oats, spices, soda and salt. In another bowl whisk together the eggs, carrots, sugar, melted butter and yogurt. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ones, combining them quickly and well. Do not over mix. Portion the batter into the prepared muffin tin and bake for 18-25 minutes, checking after 18 so as not to dry them out. Remove from the tin and let cool on a rack.

They are best on the first couple of daya but hold up beautifully if frozen right away and thawed as needed.

 

The seasonality of emotions!? I’m not sure what to call it but on days like today (in Oregon) after a wet winter, I simply cannot contain my joy and energy brought on by the sun and balmy temperatures. The arugula and mustard green seedlings are growing right before my eyes and with it my excitement for the season that’s upon us. And the promise of all that bare soil. . .

These are also the days when I have less patience to be in the kitchen. Luckily these days coincide with the emergence of leafy greens and other tender veggies that require very little cooking/prep time. This Spring Soup with green garlic, chives, parsley and frikeh (that I posted on this very day last year) fits into this category. Use tiny pasta or rice or any other grain instead of the frikeh.

Happy Spring!

me that is, not the vegetables. I am spoiled by my CSA. Spoiled by deliciousness, convenience (yes!) and by something bigger, harder to define. Everywhere we look we’re told to slow down, unplug, spend time with our family, be mindful, and of course eat more fresh vegetables and cook from scratch.

 

Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) for me inspires all of the above. It may take a while to get into the groove of getting a big bag of fresh produce every week. There’s the putting it away, learning how to prepare a new vegetable, maybe having a loose plan so that it doesn’t spoil (rotten:), and figuring out how to use up the last bits before the next one arrives. But once you have that down you might realize how much less time you spend at the grocery store or wondering what you should make for dinner.

 

If you get overwhelmed by the veggies, share them with your neighbor or make a giant something–curry, soup, gratin, 3 batches of pesto. . .and freeze half or give some away. You will make fast friends! And speaking of friends, the community piece is just plain cool. You get to know other members, the farmer(s), how they grow the food, how hard they work to provide a nice variety of things for you to eat any week of the year. That is HARD to do! And you get to know what grows in your region and how delicious lettuces and peas and peppers and corn can actually be.

 

There’s also the joy of (delicious) frugality for me. I’ve never eaten better for less. If the fridge is full of veggies I’ll eat them and won’t go buy a bunch of other items. If you stock your pantry well and shop for perishables once a week you will be set. You will eat differently. You might discover that you can turn anything into a latke-like fritter, top it with hot sauce and/or Greek yogurt and feel like you never need another recipe again.

 

If any of this sounds tempting, give it a shot! And if you’re in the Portland (OR) area this weekend come to the CSA Shair Fair on Saturday (10-2) where 40 CSA Farms will be set up to choose from! And there will be Chef’s demos (hosted by me) and kids activities, and amazing food.

 

Happy Cooking, Happy Eating and Happy Spring!

Spaghetti pies are everywhere, it seems. . . as are nettles here in the soggy Pacific Northwest at the moment. It’s a spectacular combination.

Two of my favorite bloggers waxed poetic about this dish recently; Smitten Kitchen and David Lebovitz. I added lots of nettles, used less cheese, not because I don’t like cheese, but because I didn’t have quite enough and it seemed like plenty, and it turned out fabulously! I happened to have aged pecorino on hand and it does give the dish a splendid lift out of the ordinary but play around with the cheese and use what you have. I doubt you’ll have trouble consuming the pie and it keeps well, reheats well and is good cold, for breakfast . . .

Spaghetti Nettle Pie
–slightly adapted from Smittenkitchen.com

1 1/4 lbs nettles (no need to de-stem at this stage) or other leafy greens
1 lb spaghetti
3 eggs
2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
1 1/4 cups whole milk
12 ounces cheese, I used 8 ounces pecorino romano and 4 ounces sharp cheddar–see headnote), grated

Preheat oven to 425 degrees

Butter a 9-inch spring form or a 10-inch cast iron pan. If using a spring form wrap the base of it tightly in aluminum foil as the milky egg mixture tends to leak a bit.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add 1 tablespoon salt. Add the nettles (use gloves or a dish towel or something between your hands and the nettles!) and cook for about 90 seconds. Remove nettles with tongs or slotted spoon and drain well. Add the spaghetti to the boiling water and cook for 2 minutes shy of the stated cooking time.

When the nettles are cool enough to handle, and no need for gloves now (once blanched their sting is gone) squeeze out all the liquid you can. Feel free to reserve the liquid and drink it. Tasty and very nutritious! Now remove the coarse stems and discard those. Chop the leaves finely.

Beet the eggs and milk in a large bowl with the salt and pepper. Add the nettles and 3/4 of the cheeses and thoroughly combine. Add the drained spaghetti and mix well and put the mixture in the prepared pan and sprinkle with the remaining cheese. Bake for 35-40minutes until there is no more liquidy egg mixture and the top is nicely browned. Unmold and serve!

I recently discovered Communal Table. The first post I received has been resonating with me on many levels–it was a welcome note to 2016 and talked about mindfulness and playfulness and food, of course, and included this inimitable line: “I don’t need someone else’s piousness moving in and making way too many kale & quinoa protein shakes, thank you very much. I am fully capable of eating a chocolate marshmallow-filled doughnut in January and still having good moral values.”

Author (and creator of Communal Table) Adrian Hale not only curates this beautiful site/community but bakes dark, whole grain breads that take me back to my childhood in Germany and loves vegetables as much as I do. I don’t even like marshmallows but the sentiment rings true. I crave vegetables and fresh food as much as the next after the holiday overload (always in fact) but let’s not take the ease and fun out of food and especially, let’s let the judgement go.

And with that, let’s have a big bowl of pasta for dinner where the only vegetable in site is the parsley, albeit quite a bit of it. Of course I did want (and had) a salad to go with it.

Spaghetti Aglio, Olio, Peperoncino

I’ve made this for years but was reminded of it by this recent post from Elizabeth Minchilli in Rome.

Serves 4

2 tablespoons olive oil
4-5 cloves garlic, minced
4 anchovies, finely chopped (optional but even anchovy skeptics tend to like this dish and they melt completely so are unidentifiable at the table but add such depth.)
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes or if you have them, 1/2 tsp or more crumbled Calabrian dried peperoncino peppers or minced, dried Joe’s Long Cayenne or Ring of Fire peppers
1 lb spaghetti
1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Good olive oil, for serving

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add more salt (like 2+ tablespoons) than you think necessary. Cook the pasta until al dente.

While the spaghetti is cooking heat the olive oil in a large skillet, that will later accommodate all the pasta, over medium heat. Add the garlic and anchovies and stir constantly for about 3 minutes until the garlic is fragrant. Mash the anchovies and garlic up a bit while you stir.

Drain the pasta and add to the pan with the garlic and anchovies, stir to coat and cook for a minute or two. Stir in the parsley, freshly ground pepper and a bit more of your best olive oil. Serve at once.