Lavender Shortbread Cookies

Much has happened since my last post!  I played a monster solo recital last week, featuring a program that was the musical equivalent of an ironman triathlon.  My wonderful mother flew into town for the occasion, and I was delighted that she could share in the big night and visit with all of my friends. Mom made the most delectable Lavender Shortbread Cookies for the post-recital reception, and it is my pleasure to share these little beauties with you today.

My post-recital parties are usually fairly simple affairs, usually with a few beautiful cheeses, olives and grapes set out alongside some wine.  But Mom wanted to make these lavender cookies that my Aunt Barbara had baked on a recent visit, and I certainly wasn’t going to say no.

Mom and I have a long history of planning post-recital parties together.  In fact, I got my start in the kitchen because of the parties Mom threw for her piano students after their monthly class recitals.  I remember marching into the kitchen during one of her pre-recital baking flurries when I was six years old, announcing that I needed to learn how to bake and that I would help her get ready for her party the next day.  

Key Lime Cosmos To Assuage Your Travel Woes

It is my great pleasure to introduce you to my Key Lime Cosmopolitan, which made a rather exuberant debut in Oklahoma this week, of all places. I’ve gone from AK to OK in the space of a week this June, with a brief NYC stint in between, having culinary adventures all the while. I began this month on a boat with my extended family, sailing down the breathtaking Inside Passage of Alaska while being treated to a sumptuous feast for the eyes and soul as well as the taste buds. But I have now traded fresh Alaskan salmon and snow-capped mountains for the land of great barbecue and enormous skies, for I am now in Bartlesville, Oklahoma with the Amici New York orchestra where we are performing at the OK Mozart Festival.

This wonderful group is made up of some of my favorite musicians in New York. Even though we often have great musical experiences together during the year, there is something very refreshing about playing with these colleagues outside of our normal environment. There is an incredible spirit in this group of musicians, of whom many have performed at this festival nearly every year since its inception 25 years ago. Great friendships have formed, not only between members of the orchestra with one another but also with many of the faithful audience members, and it is a very special thing to be part of this OK Mozart Festival which is so beloved by the local community.

However, we were definitely an orchestra collectively in need of a cocktail the other night. Can I tell you why we all desperately needed a cosmopolitan, a key lime one or otherwise?

Celebratory Spring Risotto

We did it!

I’m writing this post while flying high in the air, cozily wrapped in a blanket as I enjoy a bird’s eye view of New Mexico from my JetBlue window seat. I’m on my way back to New York after a whirlwind week in L.A., having played the Beethoven Triple Concerto on Friday night with the great pianist Menahem Pressler and my cellist father. I’m finally catching my breath after the excitement of the last few days, and though it’s tempting to zone out and watch six hours of “Law&Order” episodes on DirecTV, I feel like I need to write and process what just happened to me this week. The flight attendants will be coming by with beverages and complimentary Terra Blues potato chips, but I brought my own food with me and will soon take a break from writing to enjoy the delicious Springtime Risotto that I made yesterday.

My mind is reeling as I replay the past seven days in LA in my head. It was an epic week on every possible level, not only for the musical journey but also in terms of emotional strength, physical stamina, and sheer mental endurance. If you’ve been reading these last few blog posts, you’ll know that much of my energy this spring has been intensely focused towards May 1st, the day of our Beethoven Triple performance. As much as I wanted to take advantage of such springtime gems as asparagus and ramps during these past few weeks, my cooking and writing endeavors were definitely shoved onto the back burner. Instead of spending time in the kitchen experimenting with magnificent morel mushrooms and fiddlehead ferns, I hunkered down in the practice room with my violin, spending many more hours obsessing over Beethoven. And it was worth it, for Friday’s concert was an absolute joy from start to finish.

Baking As A Pre-Concert Ritual

Many of my non-musician friends have recently asked me, "What do you do to prepare for a concert on the day of the performance?" This has prompted me to think about pre-concert rituals. Some of my musician friends are superstitious, in that they have to eat a certain meal beforehand or wear the same special pair of lucky cranberry-colored socks on stage, for instance. Generally speaking, most musicians I know try to take it easy on a concert day. Of course that's not always possible, but on the day of a big performance, one would ideally have time for a leisurely walk and a good catnap, after having done just enough light practicing of one's instrument to feel warmed up and ready for action. I have one friend who invariably relies on a minor caffeine transfusion and a substantial hit of nicotine before he performs, yet even with all of that coursing through his system, he still manages to walk out on stage and play like an absolute god. (As someone who is very caffeine-sensitive, the merest thought of drinking coffee on the day of a performance is enough to give me a serious attack of the jitters on the spot!) Another friend of mine calms her pre-concert nerves by giving shoulder rubs to whomever is fortunate enough to be nearby. That's lucky for all of us, but she swears that the act of massaging other people's shoulders limbers up her own hands so that she then feels warmed up enough to play. I don't do anything out of the ordinary immediately before walking on stage, but I've just come to realize that my afternoon pre-concert ritual is perhaps not so typical, for I usually get in the kitchen and bake.

It's always baking, not cooking. Any substantial knifework tires my hands easily, something I can't afford to do before performing, and let's not even talk about what disasters could occur if a knife slipped. So as long as I have good oven mitts, baking is safer, and it's also particularly easy when you have a stand mixer to help. (How I love my KitchenAid!) Baking is also comforting. I don't know anyone who would not be moved to happiness by the warm toasty aroma of a freshly baked cake filling the house. I am forever improvising in my savory recipes, but baking is more of an exact science and I am much more inclined to follow a recipe more carefully, especially when I am guaranteed success. (Kitchen failures always make me especially sad, something I don't want to run the risk of before a big concert!)

I realize I have a history of pre-concert baking, starting from when I was in college. I usually threw a party after my recitals, a tradition that still exists today. In thinking back over of my various recitals over the past fifteen years, there is frequently a dessert attached to the memory of that day. It's one of those strange ratios, in that the more important the evening's concert is, the stronger my compulsion is to get in the kitchen in the afternoon. But I don't think my musical performances have suffered too much from this diversion of energy, and if anything, my kitchen endeavors have possibly even helped me. A brief case history, if you will: