A humble dish becomes a great adventure with the right setting and a little finesse.

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Every chef worth their salt knows that the food is only one small part of the experience of dining. Have you ever noticed how everything seems to taste better when you’re backpacking, even if it’s something you would never cook at home (hello, hotdog and salsa spaghetti)? Or how leftovers from a fancy restaurant just aren’t quite the same eaten from take-out containers without the atmospheric glow of candles? One of my favorite questions to ask people is what their most memorable meal was, and why. The replies have been diverse and fascinating, but I have to tell you: they are rarely just about the food. 

My own most memorable meal was humble, but it transformed me. My sister and I were little kids and my parents were taking us on a cross country ski down the darkened trails of a local park. It was sometime around midwinter, so even early evening felt and looked like midnight. I remember my mom saying she “wanted to get some exercise” and skiing on ahead, leaving us behind with our dad. It seemed like a really long ski and I was cold and grumpy and hungry as we pushed our skis forward through the snow and shadows. My dad encouraged us onward very patiently until we rounded the corner and were suddenly met with a warm glow of candles inside luminaries made of snowballs. Down the path we skied to find a picnic table with a checkered flannel tablecloth and fancy bowls and cups, illuminated by candles everywhere. My mom was waiting for us in this little glowing oasis surrounded by dark woods and her eyes were twinkling with tears as my sister and I were overwhelmed with awe. Dinner was relatively simple, and yet I remember it distinctly: split pea soup from a thermos, some good bread, and hot cocoa with whipped cream. Cold and hunger completely forgotten, we felt like we had stumbled upon an enchanted fairy supper or wandered into another world entirely. I tear up just thinking about that night, so many years later. It was profoundly awe-inspiring, and it planted the seed for wanting to create magical experiences like that for others that has driven me to do what I do today. 

As much as I love creating detailed, beautiful dishes that are full of careful decorating, I always try to keep that memory in mind when I am planning a supper myself. Food doesn’t always need to be overly fancy or impressive to leave a lasting impression. What matters is the heart behind it. Ten years from now, your guests won’t remember the chewy pie crust or the missing sauce. They’ll remember the magic. 

I love taking my city friends out into wild spaces, showing them both majestic views and little details. Teaching them how to safely forage is even more rewarding as I see their faces fill with the same awe that has propelled me so enchantedly through life thus far. It is never too late to experience the magic of simply being in nature. And there is nothing more delightful on a crisp winter day then to go on an adventure and have a picnic. Whether you go by day to admire blue skies and frost crystals or by dark accompanied by headlamps or candles, winter is the perfect snow-white canvas for painting new memories. The kind that can stick with you for a lifetime. The kind that can fill you with magic. 

Salt-Roasted Potatoes with Seaweed Butter

This recipe is humble - just potatoes and butter - but is elevated to something really special by its presentation. Little potatoes are baked in snowy-white salt, which leaves them tender and fluffy with a firm skin  (and keeps them warm until you’re ready to serve them up.) They are nearly perfect on their own, but some homemade seaweed butter with rich umami notes elevates them to a masterpiece of winter picnic simplicity. I hope you enjoy this recipe as much as I do! 

Seaweed Butter (make the night before) 

Ingredients: 

12 oz heavy whipping cream at room temperature

2 marbles, optional (helps to agitate the mixture) 

1 Tbs. dried dulse seaweed flakes

1 Tbs. dried sea lettuce flakes

Salt to taste

Directions: 

1. Pour the cream into a quart jar with the marbles, and shake until it becomes whipped cream. (This is a great activity to do with friends so you can take turns!) 

2. Continue shaking it until a single lump forms. At first, it’ll look grainy and lumpy - just keep going! When the butter forms, drain out the buttermilk. 

3. Pour the strained butter into a bowl. Add a cup of cold water and knead it into the butter to clean out any buttermilk. When the water becomes cloudy, dump it and add more cold water. Repeat until the water runs clear. 

4. Once the butter is sufficiently rinsed and soft, knead in the seaweeds and a little salt to taste. Use less salt than you might otherwise; the seaweeds contain glutamate that give them an umami flavor that can be perceived as salt, plus you’ll be eating this with slightly salted potatoes! Press into a mold or bowl and refrigerate overnight to allow the flavors to meld. 

Salt-Roasted Potatoes 

Ingredients:

2 lbs small potatoes (about 12) 

2 lbs coarse rock salt 

Directions: 

1. Preheat oven to 350F. Put ½” of salt in the bottom of a shallow roasting pan (or use individual oven-safe serving dishes.)  Place the potatoes on top, keeping them spaced out. Add salt to fill the spaces and the top. 

2. Bake for 50-60 minutes or until tender. Wrap up the pot to keep it hot. Pull hot potatoes from the salt, dust excess off, and eat them with the seaweed butter.

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