. . . COOK IF I WANT TO

Appetizers for this year's birthday beach party were inspired by my recent research on blood oranges - I had plenty of them on hand. Sauce Maltaise: Where Have You Been All My Life? One of my best finds as I researched blood oranges was Sauce Maltaise, a Hollandaise classically made with blood orange juice and grated blood orange rind. Can't believe I'd never heard of it before. Since we were, after all, cabin camping, I made this version in the blender rather than going the double-boiler route. It did double duty as a dipping sauce for chilled blanched asparagus spears and as a topper for our Saturday breakfast benedict - eggs scrambled with leeks, asparagus, and Swiss cheese piled on top of thick slices of ham and toasted English muffins. The delicate sweetness of the sauce is a spectacular counterpoint to the bitterness of asparagus, and I will definitely be making it again, even if I have to use regular oranges when blood orange season is over. Who Would Put Black Pepper in Blood Orange Marmalade? Sometimes odd-sounding recipes grab my attention, as did this one for goat cheese crostini with blood orange and black pepper marmalade. Although I added quite a bit more pepper than the recipe called for, it never did taste that peppery. But this one's a keeper nonetheless. The goat cheese flavored with orange zest is a treat by itself, and the blood orange marmalade was remarkably easy, except for the time-consuming process of releasing the orange segments from their membranes. Oh, and I failed to realize the orange rind would remain in the marmalade rather than just flavoring it and being removed before serving. The strips of rind I'd made with a vegetable peeler were far too large, so I fished them out after cooking and chopped them down to more suitable size, a messy process that left my hands magenta. I spread the orange-flavored goat cheese on the crostini, then topped each slice with marmalade on one half and sliced kalamata olives on the other. Inspired by this recipe from Batali for a simple salad of blood oranges and olives and reminiscent of a tip I picked up years ago from a Spanish cooking class about brining your own olives in orange juice, garlic, and herbs, the kalamata-orange pairing is another keeper.

. . . AND I'LL COOK IF I WANT TO

When I mentioned my birthday bash to a co-worker, she was surprised I was cooking for my own party. Hey, that's just what I do. The focus each year is on the seafood. I tried to duplicate last February's "clambake in a bowl," kind of like South Carolina Frogmore Stew - no frogs included. This year's rendition included clams, mussels, shrimp, tilapia, Andouille, potatoes, corn, leeks, onions, and tomatoes. Running short on time during a busy week at work, I didn't make my own fish stock this year. Instead, I used three quarts of lobster stock from one of my favorite fishmongers, Kevin Smith of Lobsta Bakes of Maine. I also like to add rouille, commonly served with bouillabaise, which is equally good to swirl into the steaming bowl of seafood stew or to slather on bread and broil with cheese. My simple version skips the saffron and incorporates mayo, garlic, roasted red pepper, lemon juice, and a little thyme and smoked paprika. The best part of the meal? Sharing it with friends patient enough to wait until 10:30 to eat, and kind enough to clean up my cooking mess after.

IT'S MY PARTY . . .

This was the site of my Third Annual Beach Blanket Birthday Bash last weekend. Gotta love friends who will trek through sleet and snow to help you celebrate. We rented the same cabin at Lake Cowan State Park as last year, and despite the 5-6" of snow that came down Friday night, the staff had the roads plowed and even scooped the sidewalk up to our front door before we were up Saturday morning. Now that's easier than being at home! This party is a twist on celebrating Christmas in July. Since my birthday is in February, we turn up the heat, don Hawaiian shirts and sandals, decorate with tiki lights, put beach towels on the furniture, sip tropical drinks, and eat seafood. This year Becky brought an array of fabric to hang on the decidely un-tropical wood paneling of the cabin, and we joked that the pool was just on the other side of this faux cabana curtain. The tropical drink this year was one Becky discovered in Hawaii years ago - a sweet concoction of rum, banana liqueur, macadamia nut liqueur (who knew there was such a thing?), Bailey's, vanilla and coffee ice cream, and banana. Alas, I didn't snap a pic, but I sure got a kick out of this beer-can cozy she gave me.