Dinner? But we had dinner last night!

Ginger vodka

2010-07-13T23:22:00.003-04:00

I am in love with this stuff, made by Skyy. I saw it advertised in Rolling Stone and knew this was the drink for me. Unfortunately, my local state store doesn't carry it. I guess Erie isn't included in the initial release. Fortunately, I have a connection in NYC. The way I figure it, if it's anywhere, it's in New York and LA. Darling Husband's uncle is an actor in New York and just happened to be coming this way for family frolicking on the fourth of July. He and his fabulous better half were kind enough to pick me up a bottle.

Now I wish I had asked for a case. It's currently in the freezer so I can ration myself ice cold indulgences. I like it straight and on the rocks, both. I imagine it would be amazing blended with some watermelon or strawberry.

The best, though, was a very grown-up slushie/snow cone we made while on vacation. Using a margarita machine to shave the ice (a great appliance that would gather dust 358 days of the year), my adventuresome brother-in-law and I developed this drink to beat the heat. A ton of ice, a couple shots of the ginger vodka, a splash of Fresca and a bit more ice to replenish what melted and voila! An amazing summer drink reminiscent of childhood but very adult.

I found it funny that the 21 year olds I gave this drink to sputtered and said, "Whoah! That's strong!!" Really? It seemed remarkably smooth to me. Although, come to think of it, beyond shots, how many 21 year olds drink much neat alcohol? Drinks popular in that age group tend to be aimed at masking the taste of any spirits. Martinis are not exactly in high demand. Or, if they are, they're the kind of "martini" that has fruit juice and other nonsense and is only a martini and not a mixed drink because someone thought it would be kicky to serve it in a martini glass.

Personally I like martinis with gin, not vodka, and rather dry. Ginger vodka, no vermouth, would be most pleasant, too. I don't know what the vermouth would do to the taste.

My father's drink is a martini. He has recently begun experimenting, not only with different gins and different garnishes (olives, twist of lemon, caper berries), but with different recipes in general. I tried one that he made which reproduced James Bond's original martini, and that was quite nice. He also collects martini glasses and takes artsy pictures of his cocktails. Hey, he's retired. :o)

Those of us out of our twenties who tried the ginger slush were quite pleased. Someone suggested the "kids" maybe were reacting to the taste of ginger and not the alcohol. Others mused about lemongrass and cucumber flavors.

Skyy, please release your Ginger Infusion vodka across the nation, so that people in rural Alaska can enjoy it as much as those in Manhattan. And if not Alaska, at least Pennsylvania. We butt against New York state; it's hardly any trouble, I'm sure. And do it quick--I'm down to a quarter of a bottle. My self control can't hold out much longer.

Crock pot queen

2010-06-24T22:07:00.003-04:00

With the weather being hot, nieces and nephews playing softball, Darling Husband rehearsing for a play and other forms of craziness, I've been a crock pot queen lately for dinner. First I made meatballs in sauce. I bought the meatballs frozen from Gordon's Meat, my favorite little butcher shop from when I was a kid. It's at the plaza at the intersection of Peach and Gore and it's so cute there. They also make killer home made andouille and chorizo. The meatballs were fantastic and so convenient. Baby Girl gobbled 2 in one sitting! Plus bread, which she used to mop up the sauce like the little Italian/French girl that she is. :o) The grown-ups had meatball subs with provolone.

Next came gumbo, which was also the first thing I've made using the crock pot bag liners. I HIGHLY recommend these! They sounded like a scary fire hazard at first, but a friend of mine swears by them so I gave it a try. I'm a convert for sure! They make clean up a breeze-- you literally just throw out the dirty bag. Maybe swipe off a little bit that dripped. It's perfect for dishes that might stain or be a pain to scrub, or just if you plan to turn around and use it again the next morning. The gumbo was good but a little... broken down. I'd partially browned the andouille, made the roux and sauteed the onions and peppers in a sauce pan, then put it into the crock with frozen okra, chicken that was picked from a rotisserie bird, stock and spices. Good gumbo often looks a bit swampy, but this time the okra just melted. Perhaps fresh would have held its shape better.

I also made an awesome dried cherry chicken dish with carrots. This was out of a recipe, although of course I had to alter it a bit. Chicken breasts, baby carrots (they wanted me to use whole carrots, chopped), honey, dried cherries, balsamic, chicken stock, 5 spice (although I couldn't find it so I used allspice) and grated fresh ginger. It was zesty, thanks to the ginger, and had a nice fruitiness without being too cloying. Definitely it was sweet, but it worked. We served it with mashed potatoes. My only complaint about this was the chicken was a little dry. Perhaps I should have used chicken thighs? But then again, I don't like chicken thighs. Could've used a bit of sambol olek for spice, too.

Tonight I made an Indian dish with spinach, peas and tofu. It's my version of saag paneer, with the dry farmer cheese and spinach, but I made mine with tofu. I filled the crock on my lunch hour with fresh baby spinach, which I had chopped, then grated in about 6 cloves of garlic, tossed on some frozen peas, dolloped some curry paste and glugged some chicken stock. When I came home from work, all was wilted to an inch of green at the bottom... it wasn't unexpected but still somehow shocking. I added in diced tofu (of which Baby Girl had a bite and pronounced it YUM) and some more curry paste, since it tasted bland. When Darling Husband came home, it was time to stir in some plain yogurt that I had let sit in a coffee filter-lined chinoise, bring back to temperature and serve. Despite my dubious recipe research, this came out pretty close to how saag paneer is supposed to taste! I was pleased. The yogurt kept it creamy and fluffy, not dense, and the tofu picked up all the curry flavor just like it should. I might've liked some more peas, but outside of that, I didn't have any suggestions for myself. And I'm maybe a bit proud of myself, too. Also, despite my surprise at the amount of wilted spinach, it made plenty for three hearty servings (one of us gets lunch). If I'd made rice, it would have stretched much further.

I'm not out of crock pot recipes yet! Tune in for another installment!

Father's Day and My mom's brats

2010-06-20T23:20:00.002-04:00

bratwurst, that is!

(You thought I meant me and my sister, didn't you?)

In honor of Father's Day, my mom had a picnic. It was great fun, even though Darling Husband was out of town for the weekend and couldn't attend. Baby Girl and I did send a breakfast in bed package along with him, though. Brown sugar and cinnamon pop tarts for "french toast," a citrus flavored vitamin shot for "orange juice," and beef jerky for "bacon." Also, packets of peach mango water flavoring that have caffeine in them. A meal fit for a king! Well... not exactly, but good travel food, anyway.

The best part about the picnic was having cocktails out back while all the kids occupied themselves out front, looking at turtles and playing with bubbles. Ahhhhhh. How relaxing!

For food, my mom kept it pretty simple for once, which was nice. Burgers and bratwurst, a spinach/rice/cheese casserole, cucumbers and then berries and pound cake for desert. It was so pleasant, especially since each element was exceptionally well done. The burgers were the best she's ever made, hands down. My sister and brother in law agreed, and so I decree it to be true. She claims she didn't do anything special, but they were moist and flavorful and wonderful. She had guacamole as an available condiment, which was awesome, but it was the meat itself that carried the burger. The bratwurst had that great snap when you bite into them, and were juicy and meaty. She said she cooked them in water first, then finished them on the grill. Baby Girl ate half of one by herself, and probably would've finished it had it not been for her cousins running around and playing. Then there was the casserole, which is my sister's recipe but (as my sister said tonight) it never tastes as good as when mom makes it (that is the mystery of my mother).

Happy Father's Day to all, whether that's a steakhouse meal or pop tarts in bed. :o) I'm thankful for the daddies in my life.

Wild strawberries

2010-06-18T23:16:00.004-04:00

My 9 year old nephew found these wild strawberries around my grandmother's house. He brought me one (brought his sister one, too).

Ironically, I was reading an article in the paper about strawberries. This berry was different, though. It was bright, grassy, tart and amazing; it reminded me of wild raspberries. Nothing like the cardboardy strawberries you get in stores, or even like the horticultured local strawberries (which are huge and sweet). Baby Girl loves them--we picked some more today. Nature has some good ideas, people.

BTW when my nephew saw me photographing my strawberry, he looked at me all puzzled. I asked him if he minded if I put a picture on my blog. "Uh, it's just a strawberry. I really don't care." Which is doubly funny because he's not at all a snotty kid, just really happy go lucky and a little in his own world. But I think he thinks his aunt is a bit batty.

This is his berry stained hand just before he ran out to pick more. And contemplate my lunacy.

Beautiful fruit

2010-06-12T23:17:00.002-04:00

Thank you to my wonderful sister, who (in addition to nannying my precious daughter for half the work week) is a fantastic friend. She gave me a basket of the most juicy, sweet, luscious strawberries I've ever seen! We're all enjoying plowing through them. I'm thinking of making Baby Girl a strawberry yogurt smoothie tomorrow. Now if I could just find a way to sneak some veggies into it... She's quite the fruititarian (fruitivore?) so it's especially exciting when I'm able to get her to eat spinach, like I did tonight! Putting it on pizza helped.

I can hardly fault Baby Girl's fruit obsession, though. In or about our fridge currently:

Golden raspberries
Cherries
Strawberries
Red grapes (I like green, but Baby Girl prefers the red)
Tangerines
Bananas
Nectarines

Also, half of a pear that should probably get thrown away and some blueberries in the freezer from Darling Husband's grandmother from last summer, which we drop into pancakes here and there.

Mmmmmh, makes me hungry already! Personally, I like fruit raw and alone, or thrown into savory dishes, but rarely in deserts. Strange, huh? Darling Husband's grandmother makes a pretty awesome strawberry rhubarb jam, though.

I think, for the grown ups, I might have to make some sort of strawberry daiquiri with fresh strawberries. I just heard about ginger infused vodka (made by Skyy, I believe) and that would be great blended with strawberries, maybe thinned with Sprite. Yummmm... I might have to take a trip to the wine & spirit store tomorrow!

Quick formatting note

2010-06-08T00:32:00.002-04:00

Dear gentle readers,

Due to the large number of Asian porn spam comments, I'm sorry to say I'm now going to review all comments before allowing them to be posted.

Please do not let this deter you from leaving valid comments (aka not porn spam-- I don't care how hot your barely legal girls are).

I intend to censor nothing but spam. All comments, good or bad, are welcome. Compliment my ingredients, shower me with praise, lavish me with well wishes if you must. If you want to tell me you think my blog is pithy, or that my use of cheese is wanton, or that I should be vegan on Mondays, I'll still put it up.

I truly apologize for the inconvenience. I will try to get comments vetted as quickly as possible. Believe it or not, I check this blog more than I post to it.

Your comments continue to be tied into my sense of self worth, so please be assured of the value I place on them!

love and kisses, mary francine

Ribs

2010-06-05T14:07:00.002-04:00

On Memorial Day, my mom made ribs. She also made burgers, hot dogs, potato salad, corn, and a bunch of other yummies. It's the ribs that stole the show, though. They were flavorful, tender, falling off the bone, but not fatty. They had a great caramelized crust and paired wonderfully with the bbq sauce she served. We all raved.

She told Darling Husband that she made them "just like Emeril"--except with a different rub, of course. And different sauce. And a different cut of rib, because she likes them better, and...

...and you can see why I have trouble following a recipe.

Last night we went to the rib festival in town. It was full of big vendors who traveled from all over the country; pit masters, as such, who proudly displayed their awards. Bands were playing, whole pigs turned on spits, giant inflatable slides and bounce houses enthralled kids, roasted corn on the cobsmelled divine. It was a rib fest with the whole nine yards. I got a pulled pork sandwich to share with Baby Girl, Darling Husband got a brisket sandwich, and we had a couple of ribs to share, too. My pork was so tender and so tasty, I didn't even need sauce. (I had some anyway.) The brisket was also, in Darling Husband's opinion, wonderful. Baby Girl was particularly partial to the corn bread.

The ribs?

Well...

They were good...

...but a disappointment, compared to mom's. Great job, Mom. :o)

Salt potatoes

2010-05-23T23:18:00.003-04:00

If you've never made salt potatoes, you're in for a treat. How do you turn regular old potatoes into something new and exciting? Loads of kosher salt!

I don't want to know what this does to your sodium levels, so let's just say this is something to eat in moderation and never to feed to a slug, okay?

Salt potatoes are credited to salt miners in the 1800's in New York, near Syracuse. As they boiled briny water to evaporate the water and then scrape up the salt, they would toss in their potatoes and cook them for lunch. Seems like a reasonable thing to do when you've got a bunch of heat just going to waste. Apparently it's the rage to serve them with butter. I tend not to serve anything with butter. Butter, in our house, gets kept in the freezer so it doesn't spoil and usually is only broken out to make a roux. In other words, butter just doesn't occur to me.

I read about salt potatoes in this month's edition of Food Network Magazine. Have I mentioned how much I love this magazine? Thanks, Mom! For that matter, thanks also to Uncle Richard and Patty, because they offered to get the subscription for us and had to be graciously turned down since Mom had already done it. Yay!

They are a snap to make. Start by scrubbing a pound of small potatoes, such as Yukon Gold, Ruby Red or (my favorite) Ruby Gold. I suppose you could use little white ones, too. These are all waxy type, which I tend to prefer, and I think work better in these recipes. Put them into a pot of heavily salted water. How heavily salted? 4 to 1, water to kosher salt. The salt brings the boiling point up and therefore the potatoes cook at a much higher temperature. This leaves the insides ultra creamy. Bring the potatoes to a boil, boil for 20 to 30 minutes (until they're done) then drain them into a colander and let them air dry. A yummy, salty crust will be on the potatoes.

They were great as-is, as the creamy insides cuts the saltiness of the outside. Darling Husband and I both agreed they would make awesome smashed potatoes, too.

Brief Introductions

2010-05-23T13:57:00.004-04:00

Just wanted to let you know who we are...

Me!

Darling Husband!

Baby Girl!

The whole family. Nice to meet you.

Cookout! Beans and sliders

2010-05-16T12:49:00.002-04:00

I love that sliders are now such a normal thing that you can buy Wegman's brand slider buns and not have to use dinner rolls which, while often recommended, are just too heavy. Usually, Wegman's even sells little pre-made raw sliders, but last night they were out of them. No bother! We just made our own.

For the burgers, we kept it very simple and made 8 equal lumps of meat from a package that was just over a pound. From these lumps I made meatballs, attempting to handle as little as possible, then squished down until just larger than the bun. Salt and pepper on the outside and they were ready for the grill. They cook up very quickly, so you have to be sure not to overcook your sliders. During the last minute, we put a mound of finely shredded cheddar/"mexican cheese mix" and let it melt.

Darling Husband made a sort of red onion pickle, with shaved red onion in a lime, cilantro and sugar mixture. The whole house smelled awesome. This pickle had crunch but not the strong taste of the onion, with a pleasant sweet/sour taste and a great herby note to elevate it.

We built the burgers as follows: bottom bun, bit of store bought guacamole, burger, thin slice of tomato, onion pickle, top bun. No need to add any other condiments! Spicy, sweet, sour, savory, bitter--we covered them all.

As a side dish, we made a very quick bean dish. Darling Husband doesn't eat baked beans, but this might become our next best thing. Might even be better. We sweated some diced yellow bell pepper and red onion in olive oil, then added a can of drained black beans. Salt, pepper, a bit of cumin and some crushed red pepper flakes comprised the seasoning. We just let this cook and marry the flavors. It was fabulous with a dollop of sour cream. It had that black bean soup quality to it, but the beans really retained their integrity. I wish we'd made more so we could have left overs.

Cook more

2010-05-11T07:33:00.003-04:00

I was listening to sports talk radio (a slightly inexplicable guilty pleasure of mine. It used to be wacko right wing Republican talk radio) and the one guy was feeling guilty about eating out 3 meals in one day. His basic tone was horrified at himself, but was quickly bolstered by oodles of callers discussing how often they eat out, why, and how much they spend. Someone did the math that $35 a day meant a $13,000 annual food bill.

When I was growing up, eating out was a rare event. Not because we couldn't afford it, or because our family was unruly, but because it just wasn't what you did. Mom cooked. She cooked very well. We had no real reason to go out.

I do remember going to DeDad's, which has long been torn down and turned into a Burger King. I recall a few visits to Rax at the Mall, right next to what is now Pier One. ChiChi's was a big one, too, and my dad would grumble about all the food coming out of the same three 55gallon drums in the back. When I had the day off of school, my mom would take me to the Peking Restaurant for lunch, which was on Peach Street near El Canelo but on the other side of the street, but I can't recall just where. It was just a mommy/daughter thing. I'd get the chicken with oyster sauce, usually. Mom was friendly with the owner and she'd teach us a word here and there of Chinese. I think they (or, possibly, their children) opened up Golden Wok on Pittsburgh and 22nd (ish) Street, which is awesome, by the way. But at the Peking, they had a little gift shop and there was a tiny carved pagoda and dragon made out of cork and encased in a small globe, like a snow globe without the water and sparkles. I coveted it. I would visit it. I dreamed about it. One day I got it. It was everything I could've wanted.

Darling Husband and I eat out more than I did growing up, and now that we have Baby Girl, that's more turned to take out. She's best at Eat & Park for brunch, and good at a bunch of other places, but our eating has gotten a bit strange since she was born. And, now, mobile.

But 3 times in a day? That's like when you're on vacation and you can't wait to go home and have fresh vegetables cooked right.

The guy made a good point, which was that he's divorced and doesn't have the inclination to cook. I started thinking about people who say they don't cook. In a lot of ways, I don't believe them because I think, well, but how do you eat? Although between frozen pizzas, skillet meals, rotisserie chicken, ready made sides, take out from Applebee's and Max and Erma's and TGIFriday's and Olive Garden and a ton of other places, I guess it's pretty easy not to cook.

If you make yourself PB&J, is that cooking? If you heat up soup?

When it comes down to it, I feel each person (or family) needs to do what's right for them. As for the price? Eh, if you have it, what do I care? You might spend that much at the grocery store, I guess. Frankly, I still like to eat out. I'm unlikely to do it 3 times in a day, though. I like cooking too much.

Genius, perhaps?

2010-05-01T17:47:00.003-04:00

I have two things to share tonight, and while neither is earth shattering, both have some merit which borders on genius.

Firstly, what to do with the dilemma of leftover queso dip with soggy and/or stale tortilla chips. The solution? Some chicken stock, a little cornstarch slurry and a dash of hot sauce and you have tortilla soup. Leftover chicken (or, even, a can of it) would make it hearty enough for a meal. I didn't happen to have any pollo and so my Cinco de mayo soup was supplemented by a salad.

Side note: my mother is from France, and my loyalties lie that way when a choice is to be made. It helps in how to choose World Cup qualifying teams to cheer for. I found out today that the battle celebrated by Mexicans on this day was in defeat of the French. So, why does this country celebrate a battle which was lost? Silly Americans. :o) Of course, I'm not exactly sure how much history or even patriotism is celebrated on this day in this country. It's a little like St Patrick's Day. In Ireland, it's no big deal. Here, it's a reason to start drinking beer with food coloring in it at 7am. Also, have you noticed the curious affinity for Mardi Gras beads that these holidays seem to have picked up? St Patrick's Day, Cinco de mayo, actual Mardi Gras, uh... okay, I've run out of examples. But surely you've noticed it, too. Or is it just bars in Erie that do this?

Anyway, the second kitchen tidbit is a technique I picked up from Alton Brown. Instead of scoring, blanching, then shocking tomatoes to remove the skin, if he's making sauce he recommends using a box grater. Just cut the tomato in half along the horizon, seed it, then grate it on the coarse side of the box grater. The pulp is efficiently removed and you're just left with the skin. Works quickly and is fun to do, too.

Chocolate covered bacon

2010-04-30T23:12:00.002-04:00

My brother in law heard about this and was quite intrigued, so I made him some for his birthday. Before we'd left the party, he had finished all of it. My niece, however, tasted it and proclaimed it to be a way to ruin both bacon and chocolate. I wish I could weigh in, but I never got to try it!

That being said, I'll share how I made it. I cut bacon strips into 3 pieces, then baked it until crispy. I let it cool completely (I prefer baking as a method, but I also wanted to get the rendered fat away from the bacon). Then I melted half milk chocolate and half dark chocolate disks, and dipped each piece of bacon in it. Finally, I finished with a light sprinkle of smoked sea salt.

Anyone else make this? I understand it's a tailgate delicacy, and it's so easy to make. Darling Husband's asking for a batch.

Curried carrot soup

2010-04-29T09:59:00.003-04:00

I was able to use up some of the fridge's ingredients in this meal:

Curried Carrot Soup and Gnocci with Fresh Pesto.

Ingredients bought: half and half, gnocci, garlic.

Ingredients used from fridge: carrots, half an onion, stock, ginger ale, curry paste, arugula, basil, parmasan.

To make the pesto, I put basil and arugula in a food processor with a clove of garlic and some olive oil. Once the whole thing was nicely green and saucy, I seasoned with salt and pepper and made the gnocchi.

For the soup, I caramelized some onion and then added the carrots (conveniently in match stick form). After allowing them to cook and soften a while, I added in some ginger ale and covered, allowing it to simmer and reduce. A bit of curry paste, a bit of stock, and the newly formed soup bubbled away happily for a while. The final touches were some half and half for creaminess, and a stick blender to smooth out the texture. Personally, I thought it was great. Complex flavor but not too spicy, with a lot of natural sweetness from the carrots to balance it. I might have preferred the texture to be more smooth, but that would've required longer cooking of the carrots and/or straining the soup. Darling Husband only ate a bit of his, but he was also suffering terribly from allergies, so perhaps that was it. Baby Girl had some the next day with oatmeal stirred in.

To finish the gnocchi, I poured the pesto over the cooked gnocchi and tossed them around a bit. I micro planed in a bunch of parmasan, then added a bit of half and half as well, because it looked a bit dry and needed something to help. They were lovely but, in retrospect, the raw garlic was a bit overly assertive. These happy little pillows were emerald and fresh, but the garlic sort of slapped you on the face as you went. Oh well. Live and learn, eh? At least I made a pesto.

Carnita-style Yummies

2010-04-29T09:49:00.002-04:00

Last night's dinner was intended to make use of the newly discovered items in our fridge and freezer. Cleaning it out and reorganizing for THE NEW FRIDGE helped us get a better idea of what we really had. I made a list as I went of what we kept, and we're using it to meal plan.

Since we had a bell pepper, taco sauce, queso fresco and a bunch of jalapeno slices, I thought latin cooking was the way to go.

Darling Husband agreed. And, as he was passing by the store, fully realized the plan and bought the few necessary items. My only stipulation was that it be on a tortilla and that he buy enough to make quesadillas for Baby Girl, as she loves them.

Fortunately, Darling Husband sort of forgot that we were making use of what we had. It's possibly I never really made the intention clear to him. Regardless, I say "fortunately" because instead, he made a really fantastic dinner that was way better than what we could've made with the above ingredients. And he even used the queso fresco.

He cubed pork and made a dry run with cumin, cayenne and some seasoning flour. After searing, he braised it in passion fruit nectar and added habanero hot sauce (from the fridge). The pork became moist and soft, but still had enough toothsomeness to it not to be easily pulled. It was a nice texture, actually, but not what he thought it might be. The sauce thickened up wonderfully and clung to the pork like well draped fabric. I loved it. I would also love it on popcorn chicken as a rip-off of Buffalo Wild Wing's Mango Habenero sauce (if we used mango instead of passion fruit).

Onto a tortilla, therefore, went some pork, fresh cilantro, thinly sliced red onion, guacamole and crumbled queso fresco. The flavors were sweet and spicy, with the sharp onion and the freshness of the cilantro blending perfectly with the creamy avocado. I absolutely adored it. There were no leftovers. (Well, except the tortillas for Baby Girl!)

New Fridge!

2010-04-26T10:42:00.004-04:00

Tomorrow we will be having a new fridge delivered, and we're tickled pink. It will be a side by side model with water and ice in the door. Compared to our current fridge, it's practically space aged.

Our current, energy inefficient fridge came with the house. It's a fairly basic, freezer on top, white fridge. It has worked tolerably well, and part of me feels guilty for buying a new one. However, it only fulfills its function by the grace of duct tape.

Ah, duct tape. Silvery plastic fabric, easily ripped, often lauded duct tape. People have written poems, raps and yodels about it. Cars are held together with it. Shoes, too. Presents are wrapped with it (trust me on this one, I kept the box for a few years). On Mythbusters, they built a cannon out of it and even a functioning sailboat. In our house, it has been serving kitchen duty.

The shelves in the door are falling off and cracked. Duct tape lashes them together and anchors them to the door. The freezer doesn't seal well. No worries, duct tape holds it shut. We never did fix the veggie drawer, mostly because I don't know how to do it with duct tape (there's a crack somewhere that makes it fall off the rails and stick open).

I'm not feeling nearly so bad about buying a new fridge when I look at it this way. It also gave me the motivation to clean out the current fridge (and find a bottle of marinade that I swear we moved from the old house, as well as two jars of banana peppers I didn't know we had). Also, new fridge we chose was on sale and came with a mail in rebate.

Plus, when I was glancing through Food Network Magazine, I noticed that Ellie Kreiger has our new fridge in her home kitchen.

Amazing soup

2010-04-20T12:50:00.004-04:00

Those of you who are regular readers know I'm not a big soup fan. I'm going to have to stop saying that, though, because I think 5 1/2 years of marriage have finally converted me. If it hadn't, this soup would have done the trick.

Darling Husband made a wonderful, yet simple soup out of asparagus, lite coconut milk and green curry paste. Want the rest of the ingredients? There aren't any! Oh, he might've salted and peppered, but that's it. The whole thing was pureed and had the most exquisite, balanced, creamy, comforting, round, delicate flavor imaginable. I had it hot and I had leftovers cold, and I'm not sure which I liked better. He paired it with just a little raw asparagus salad. Using a vegetable peeler, he shaved some raw asparagus and tossed with salt and pepper, grapefruit zest and olive oil. Raw asparagus has a grassy, fresh taste that complimented the down-comforter feeling of the soup nicely. It was a fantastic palate cleaner, not unlike the pickled ginger you get with sushi. When we open our imaginary bistro, this is definitely going on the menu.

Nutmeg

2010-04-17T23:49:00.005-04:00

Apple pie, cheese sauce, jerk seasoning, egg nog: they all contain nutmeg. The flavor is recognizable but the seed it comes from is quite forgettable. Plus, in large quantities, it's a hallucinogen (although, side effects are pretty bad and too much will kill you). It's best grated fresh with a microplane, but have you ever bothered to do so? We were gifted whole nutmeg, which is why we do. The coolest thing is what it looks like inside.

Roasting a whole snapper

2010-04-17T23:39:00.007-04:00

I bought a whole red snapper from Marine Fish Market. It was frozen, so I defrosted it in some running water. I didn't have a ziplock bag big enough, so I put two on and duct taped them together for fridge storage. It looks like a kidnap victim.

Nasty set of teeth on it, huh? And although it should be obvious, it never occurred to me that fish had tongues. This was probably the creepiest thing about it. I was pleased to note that the fishmonger had not only gutted the fish, but removed the gills and scales, too. I was not looking forward to taking those off.

This fish is prepared for battle! I used kitchen shears to remove all the fins (dorsal, pectoral and anal) and the tail. They would only have charred. If this were Japan, though, I'm sure I would've created a delicacy with them. Probably not the spines, though.

To promote even cooking, I cut some deep slits into the flesh. This also let me season inside the fillets. I overall seasoned the fish with salt and pepper. Then, I arranged parsley and thinly sliced lemon, fennel, garlic and onion under it, in it and on top. We drizzled a bit of olive oil over the whole thing and popped it in a 400 degree oven.

Ready to go into the oven. It seems unhappy, somehow. You know, gashed and clipped with lemons in its belly. Personifying this fish didn't help me eat it later, by the way.

Here it is out of the oven. The parsley burned, which is fine because it actually lent an interesting flavor. It took much longer in the oven than we thought it would.

Butchering the fish (carving the fish? I think that's probably more the term) was an adventure. In all of our pieces, we only found 2 bones on our plate. I was a little impressed with myself. The best part was being able to carve away the tenderloin in one piece. You can see it in the middle of the plate, there. We served with hominy cooked in coconut milk. It was a little bland, but a very interesting texture. Would've been better if we'd remembered the ginger.

I looked up the proper etiquette for serving whole fish. One is to transfer to a platter, and carve at the table. Otherwise, you don't get credit for making a whole fish for your guests/family. First, you carve the upper fillet into portions and serve. Then you lift the spine and head up and off of the platter. Finally, you serve the lower fillet. That's all well and good, but I wouldn't have been able to do this. My fish looks much worse for the ware after hacking into it. Just as well we didn't have guests. :o)

Grilled salad

2010-04-17T22:53:00.002-04:00

Well, spring sprang and then sprang back again. In the past month, it's been 80 degrees and it has frozen. Today there were white, wet, yucky blobs falling on us as we tried to shop for a new refrigerator, prompting Darling Husband and I to decide that "sleet" should be a swear word.

On a side note, those of you who don't know me probably would be shocked to hear I have a terribly unladylike habit of swearing like a sailor. I take full ownership of it, and credit it to having a sister who is 9 years older, friends who similarly swear, a boss who swears, parents (well, parent) who swear, and a love of British comedians who pepper their language liberally with the F-word. It's cathartic and about as second nature to me as breathing. It's also a terrible burden for my poor mother, who thinks women swearing is particularly crude and tasteless. Sorry, Mom.

But it is for Baby Girl's sake (and not my mother's) that my language has taken a turn away from the purple. We now use the same swear words as Sponge Bob; mostly, that's "barnacles." Barnacles, fish paste, tartar sauce... it makes for some interesting phrases. I added my own, "mother of pearl," to the list. Unfortunately, I still say "bugger" which is quite a naughty word but doesn't flash the same color in my head and so I don't edit it out the same way. Ever hear a 21 month old in pigtails and butterfly festooned bib overalls say "bugger?"

Now that spring is trying to raise her head, our cooking is venturing away from hearty winter fare and towards brighter dishes. A new one we made was grilled salad. We didn't invent it; this technique is all over food network. Still, it's an interesting departure.

I split a heart of romaine in two, preserving as much of the core as I could without being gross so as to hold the thing together. Then I smeared about a teaspoon of olive oil on the cut edges (using my hand. I couldn't think of a better way) and pressed the oiled lettuce into freshly shredded parmasan to coat it. This immediately went on a very hot grill pan, cheese down. I don't know how long it took, but it certainly wasn't more than a couple of minutes. In that time, the cheese browned and toasted and the lettuce wilted somewhat. We served immediately, dressing the salad by splashing the whole with olive oil and white balsamic, then microplaning lemon zest and sprinkling with kosher salt and freshly cracked pepper. It was a wonderful mix of crunchy and soft, brittle and flexible, bright and bitter. I think it would make a great ceasar salad or a nicoise, as a fancy lunch item. I particularly enjoyed the greens that wilted, as they tasted wholly unlike lettuce and more like, well, "greens" that you use to cook. What is lettuce, but a green of course. But a wilted salad doesn't sound nearly as appetizing as it really is.

The drawback to making this salad is it leaves you with quite a bit of hearts of romaine left over, since the smallest package we could find was a 4 pack, and we used one out of it. I chopped up the rest and made stir fried salad, with pork. Darling Husband wasn't nearly as sold on this one. He said it was a little strange. Personally, I think it was just the fact that he knew it was romaine that was the problem. Escarole is a salad, too, and he wouldn't have blinked if I had used it. When stir fried, the romaine ribs keep their crunch much in the way bok choy does. In fact, it's quite a bit like bok choy. I do encourage you to think outside the box with romaine. You just might like it better than raw. I found that I do.

Calzones, of a sort

2010-03-01T11:24:00.002-05:00

On day four of my cooking for one experience I made calzones. Or, was it stromboli? What's the difference between a calzone and a stromboli? I really don't know. I read some things that suggested it's about whether the sauce was on the inside or the outside, but that might be just one person's opinion.

Okay, back to me. I made (I'm deciding to call it) calzones. I used turkey pepperoni, diced red bell pepper and provolone cheese, served with jarred marinara for dipping. I had enough left over for Darling Husband, who arrived home in the middle of the blizzard at 11:30pm and needed a fortifying nosh.

Cooking for one has perks and drawbacks, but for me part of the joy of cooking is sharing what I make. When I'm feeling particularly loving towards someone, I tend to cook for them. It's an investment of time as well as an expression of myself. Beyond that, it's caretaking, nourishing, nurturing... all that female stuff. :o) It makes me feel good. I'm glad Darling Husband's home to cook for in the coming days.

I gave up

2010-02-24T23:00:00.002-05:00

On this third day of on my own cooking, I gave up, I gave in and I ordered take-out.

We get Chinese from Cathay Express, at 18th and State. (814) 456-6615 and yes, I rattled that off my heart. The ladies at my office order from here, my parents order from here, and we do, too. They're friendly, they put up with us ordering wacky special requests (my boss gets chicken and broccoli with no chicken and pork fried rice without the pork) and 99% of the time get it right. Plus, they are convenient.

Tonight I worked late, and this cold is kicking my butt. I placed an order for delivery and promptly fell asleep on the couch waiting for it. I wish I could say I loved it, but I have to say, I won't be ordering Orange Beef again. I've had their orange chicken before numerous times and like it, but I wasn't prepared for the beef to be breaded and fried. It gave it a really strange texture that I didn't really care for. Sauce was still good, though, and I was hungry enough not to be too disappointed.

Here's hoping tomorrow night brings me back to the kitchen.

Just a sandwich

2010-02-23T21:57:00.002-05:00

It's day two of my cooking for one experiment. I took Baby Girl to the doctor today... she's grown two inches in three months and didn't cry at all when she got her shots. What a trouper. I, however, don't feel as brave. I think I'm coming down with a cold, so my plans for dinner changed. I decided to just make a sandwich.

And yet, this is such a misleading statement, because it started off with baking bread. (My mother in law is a nurse, and sometimes when she comes home from her long shifts, she makes a pb&j and calls it a night. She's more of a grown up than I am and so she has staples like bread in her cupboard.) Okay, so the bread wasn't from scratch, but I still say baking bread from a tube is baking bread and gets you some points. I didn't have regular bread. I also didn't have lunch meat, so I used tomato and avocado. This is one of my favorite summer combinations. Sometimes we skip the bread, topping our little tomato towers with monterrey jack cheese and popping under the broiler. Yum. I didn't have monterrey jack, so I used cheddar for my little open faced sandwiches. After broiling, I sprinkled salt and pepper and liberally dashed white balsamic vinegar.

You can keep your chicken noodle soup. To me, this is comfort food.

All by myself

2010-02-22T22:36:00.003-05:00

Darling Husband is on a business trip. When this happens, I often pack up kitten and Baby Girl and decamp to my parents' house. When I don't, such as now, I generally don't end up cooking much. I decided to do things differently this time. On my lunch hour, I went grocery shopping for a few meals worth of fast but yummy food.

Tonight was spicy turkey sausage and shrimp with asparagus and red pepper. It helped me use up asparagus I forgot I had. I didn't make a starch to go with (orzo might've been nice) so I mopped up extra sauce with bread. The sauce, by the way, is just a splash of white wine and a bunch of sambal olek. It might not be as fun cooking for one, but it is gratifying nonetheless. Plus, fewer dishes to clean.

I had planned on making tomorrow night's dinner tonight, to save time, but got too tired. Oh well!

Tuna steaks and swiss chard

2010-02-17T20:28:00.002-05:00

In honor of Valentine's Day, we decided to make a splurgy dinner at home. Okay, okay, that's a bit of a lie. We actually went out and had a splurgy dinner. I even intend to blog about it. But then two days later, made another one anyway.

It featured tuna steaks, which are a beautiful, rich shade of reddish pink. Tuna should never be cooked through and is best, in my opinion, when it's lightly seared on the outside and sashimi raw on the inside. I didn't invent this, of course, but I'm a huge fan. We dusted ours with searing flour and some sicilian seasoning that was meant to be mixed with olive oil and used as a bread dip. It had basil, oregano, garlic and sundried tomato, but was powdered in consistency. When we seared the steaks, they got a nice crust and the herbs released a lot of flavor and aroma.

As a side dish, we sauteed some assorted swiss chard (it came prewashed and chopped in a package) and served with agnolotti. Swiss chard is a relative of the beet, and has many varieties. Our bag had lovely green leaves with red, yellow and orange ribs, as well as purple leaves and white ruffle leaves with a bit of green on the very tips. Nutritionists tell us to eat a rainbow every day. I think we had one in this bag. We sauteed the chard in a little olive oil, salted liberally and sprinkled with crushed red pepper.

Agnolotti pasta is a filled pasta, similar to ravioli, but shaped in a half moon crescent. Often they are made with meat (some say a true agnolotti has meat and all others are ravioli, regardless of shape), and are a good way to use up leftovers. Ours were bought fresh and had six cheeses inside. The fontina was the strongest flavor, and they were sinfully rich and wonderfully complex. We simply cooked the pasta in water (five minutes flat) and then tossed with the cooked chard.

What do you think? It tasted amazing. Oh, and we also reduced some balsamic for a little sauce for the tuna.

Dried cherry magic

2010-02-14T23:22:00.002-05:00

How to elevate a ho hum roast to fantastic, using things you might just have around anyway.

1 small beef roast
1 handful dried cherries
4 cloves of garlic
2 sprigs rosemary, bruised
Salt, pepper
Enough red wine
Couple tablespoons of butter

Season the roast with salt and pepper. Sear in an ovensafe skillet, or dutch oven. Throw all the other ingredients into the pan, filling with enough red wine to come about half way up the meat. Transfer pan to 350 degree oven. Cook until it's done, flipping the meat once or twice. Remove the meat and let rest on a cutting board. Return pan to stove top and crank up the heat. Fish out the rosemary and the garlic; bring the liquid to a boil and reduce. Stir in about 2 tablespoons of butter, cut into chunks. Serve slices of meat with risotto, topped with pan sauce.

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Recipe writing takes skill, time, measurement, patience... in other words, things I can do if I try but can't muster up tonight. Yet, even with my vague direction, couldn't you make this dish? If you did, you'd be rewarded with moist, tender meat and a savory sauce studded with plump, juicy, tart cherries.

Roasts can be done so many ways, based on the aromatics, the liquid and the finishing. Root vegetables and stock, onions and beer, mirepoix and chianti, each brings their own personalities to the table. Try a few--hey, try my red wine and cherry combo!--and you'll jazz up a Sunday night staple.

I found out the next day that my mom had made a roast that night, too.

Son of a gun, gonna have some fun...

2010-02-07T12:58:00.002-05:00

...on the bayou!

Mardi Gras is just around the corner and the Saints played the Super Bowl. What better excuse is there for indulging in a few of the delicacies of the Big Easy? We chose cornmeal dusted, fried okra, etouffee with chicken, shrimp and andouille and bananas foster. We just didn't have room to eat all of it, so we didn't actually make desert.

The okra was great, though... nutty and slightly chewy. Darling Husband said he could just chow on a whole bowl of it, watching a movie. It did have a popcorn quality to it.

Our etouffee was good, but very different from last time. Before when we made it, it was all about the peppers and onions. This time, it was all about the sausage. Oh, that's not a bad thing (believe me) but it just made for a different sort of dish.

More posts to come soon, gentle readers... I keep composing them in my head but not getting a chance to sit down and write them. My computer time tends to be after Baby Girl's in bed, after dinner, after dishes, sitting in bed before I crash. Some nights that works better than others.

Indian food

2010-02-06T13:01:00.002-05:00

As I've already noted, Raj Mahal is one of our favorite places to eat. They have a fabulous lunch buffet, which is great for those of us who don't know what the dishes are and want to try new things without committing too much. Last weekend we had a great chopped cabbage and pea dish, pretty straight forward and heavy with turmeric.

Speaking of turmeric, have you ever seen it fresh? It's a root, much like ginger, although smaller and with the color bursting through the thin skin. The little sections look like fingers or creepy worms. I bought some at the Erie County Farms today and plan to freeze them, in order to microplane them as needed into dishes. I do this with ginger, too, and find it keeps really well and incorporates easier into my food than if I used it fresh.

This weekend, we decided to make our own fantastic Indian food. (But not with the turmeric. I'd already started dinner when I found it. Next time!) I found a recipe for tandoori rub, which we made and shared with my Fabulous Sister. Paprika, cumin, sugar, salt, cinnamon, saffron, coriander, ginger, black pepper, cayenne... we ground them all ourselves with a coffee grinder we've designated for spices. It's amazingly fragrant. (I think it would taste great on roasted potato wedges, too, but that's another day). Instead of being a slave to a traditional "tandoori," we decided to make a dish that made sense to us, but kept the spirit in tact. To that end, we marinated large hunks of chicken breast with plain yogurt which was liberally seasoned with our spice mixture until it formed a paste.

I seared the chicken hunks, then removed them and sauteed veggies to pick up the fond. For vegetables, we combined onion, red bell peppers and zucchini, all in a small dice. Then we added the chicken back in, poured some milk and water into the ziplock bag which had been used to marinate the chicken (in order to get every last molecule of the marinade out) and added it to the pan for a simmering liquid. We also put in another container of plain yogurt. After simmering until the chicken was done, we allowed the liquid to reduce. You should smell my kitchen. It is to die for.

Of course, we served rice. But the more interesting thing was the homemade naan. This was a recipe from the February issue of Food Network Magazine (thanks, Mom! I'm enjoying my subscription) and I followed it exactly. Well, I lie. I followed it almost exactly. I used unbleached flower for the whole of it, instead of whole wheat. It doesn't have any leavening agent (if it did, I wouldn't have tried it, as I'm yeast-challenged when it comes to cooking) but it does need time to rest. I'm including the recipe here:

3/4 c. whole wheat flour
3/4 c. all purpose flour
1 teaspoon olive oil
1/2 c. water
pinch of salt

Combine the flours and the salt in a large bowl. Make a well in the center of the flour and add the wet ingredients. Mix together until a sticky mess [note: I'm taking a few liberties with the wording here, but it's more true my way. Actually, we used more water than this to get it to come together correctly]. Turn out onto a floured surface and knead until pliable, about 5 minutes. Put dough ball in a lightly oiled bowl and let sit 30 minutes to rest.

Divide dough into 6 pieces. Roll or manually stretch each piece out, then fry in a pan with the barest hint of oil 2-3 minutes on one side and 1-2 minutes on the other, until lightly charred and bubbly.
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I think I could eat this every single day. It would make a rockin' pizza, with some sliced tomato, fresh mozzarella and torn leaves of basil. I could happily just layer on some lunch meat and call it a sandwich. A flavorful salad could be wrapped up with craisins, canned tuna, avocado and some queso fresco. I could go on and on. I loved this bread.

The whole meal was wonderful. The veggies were wonderfully soft but full of color and flavor, a nice counterpoint to the solidness of the chicken. Our rice drank up the sauce, which was a robust color and had quite a bit of heat (Darling Husband admitted he doubled the amount of cayenne called for. That would do it.). I would happily order it in a restaurant, but I'm doubly glad to be able to call it home made.

What's the marrow with you?

2010-02-05T20:33:00.003-05:00

What could be better than slowly braised meat? Slowly braised meat with MARROW!

Okay, okay, I admit that marrow is a frightening thing. There's something too primal, too intimate about it. Eating marrow seems like a violation. (If you read Julie/Julia, the description of extracting the marrow was absolutely chilling.) That being said, so many chefs go gaga over that bone-covered goo--what don't I know?

We found beef shank slices at the store and realized immediately this was an opportunity. As I don't eat veal, osso bucco never much crossed my mind. It was Darling Husband who noticed the potential to try this classic dish. Basically, osso bucco is a slice of veal shank, bone and all, slowly braised in white wine with mirepoix and a bit of tomato product. We used pino grigio, a dollop of tomato paste and pre-cut mirepoix (which I first browned to a henna-hued perfection in the dutch oven).

Osso bucco is served traditionally over risotto, and who am I to argue with tradition? It makes for an unspeakably rich and sinful tasting food, which is fine by me. The sauce was thick like gravy, saturated with flavor. The meat fell off the bone. We couldn't help but notice the marrow in the bone was reduced. Presumably some cooked out.

When asked for their favorite dish (or "last meal" type question), according to Anthony Bourdain, many chefs come up with pretty simple fare. Marrow on bread with a bit of sea salt is, so he says, at the top of that list. I can't comment on that specifically, but Darling Husband and I were brave enough to try a taste of the marrow on it's own. It's a bit... spongy... but not in a solid way. It's very meaty but almost...metallic? Well, truth be told, it was hard for me to identify. That being said, I enjoyed it. I just didn't want any more of it. It was a little too much Night-of-the-Living-Dead for me. But I believe I'm missing something awesome.

Cuba Libre

2010-02-01T23:11:00.002-05:00

Is a drink, made (so Darling Husband tells me) with lime, rum and Coke. We didn't have lime. We didn't have Coke. We did have rum, and lots of it. Rum leads to brilliance, fortunately, and so we discovered forgotten Pepsi in our kitchen. No one here drinks Pepsi. We drink Diet Pepsi. My father in law, however, drinks the original and so my mother in law thoughtfully dropped some off to us a few weeks before Christmas so that we'd be prepared for his holiday visit. He drank half of one. Five bottles remained.

As for lime, well, I remembered one lonely packet of True Lime in the cupboard that fell on me serendipitously the other day. Have you tried this stuff? It's awesome. It is to lime what Equal is to sugar. In that, it's a little, convenient packet to be used when you can't find the real stuff. Et voila. Cuba Libre. I drank two and could have downed a few more. (Here's a thought: if you made rum and Coke with Coke with lime, would you have made a Cuba Libre?) Apparently, by the way, they also make a True Lemon.

We made this drink to go with our cuban sandwiches and pan fried plantains. The other night we roasted an extra pork tenderloin (the perils of not separating your tenderloins before you freeze them) and so had some roast pork on hand. It had been glazed in hot pepper jelly, so what could be better? We thinly sliced it (easy because it was chilled) and layered it on bread with sliced ham, swiss cheese and a little smear of whole grain mustard. Traditionally, it should have had pickles but Darling Husband never eats them and I think they have no place in this dish. However, per tradition, we sliced the loaf of bread horizontally instead of building from slices. It took some mashing to get it into the George Foreman grill, but it came out crisp, dense, flavorful and insanely hearty. They were simply delicioso.

This is the sandwich you pack to get you through your day of physical labor, and for good reason. Oof, I am full.

I might be able to find room for another Cuba Libre, though.

Etouffee, you say?

2010-01-25T21:51:00.005-05:00

I really wasn't sure what etouffee was. Or, rather, how it differed from gumbo. Creole/Cajun food, to me, has many similar ingredients for different dishes. It's a culinary arena I'd like to learn more about. I heard about a cook book titled, Who's Your Mama, are You Catholic and can You Cook a Roux? which, I have to say, is one of the funniest titles of a cook book I've seen. I've never glanced through it. Does anyone know if it's any good?

Creole and cajun are used interchangeably but actually refer to the two different backgrounds in the New Orleans culture. One denotes the upper class, French derived land owner type people and the other the native people and those from Africa who blended their cultures in. In other words, the haves and the have nots. Although, I have to confess I know very little about this and can never remember which one is which.

Etouffee is a little like gumbo, but with a lighter roux and less soupy. It can have almost the same ingredients (onion, bell pepper, chicken, shrimp, andouille, even okra) but is a separate dish. At least, this is what I concluded from my research of recipes. We made it last night and I'm not sure how, but it didn't taste like gumbo. It did taste awesome, and was the perfect meal to eat while cheering the New Orleans Saints on to victory.

I first browned some andouille slices and rendered out some of the fat. I hadn't had a chance to go to my favorite local meat place, so I made do with chicken andouille from Wegman's. It was nice and more cohesive than the fresh made sausage. The flavor was more subtle, but there was still plenty of it. After removing the slices, I added a bit of butter and started to build my roux. I let it get to about a lightly milked coffee color before adding in onion, pepper and garlic. I also generously shook in some cayenne and dropped a palm full of file powder (powdered sassafrass). The only other spice element I added (copious amounts of black pepper don't count) was about a teaspoon of habanero hot sauce.

When the veggies had cooked a bit, I added just enough chicken stock to make a gravy, but not so much as to flood it. This I covered and simmered to let everything soften. Part way through, I threw the sausage back in. When it was just about done, we tossed in some shelled shrimp until just cooked and served over rice.

As a full disclosure, I could probably eat a bowl full of onions cooked in roux. That taste is intoxicating. As a dish, our etouffee was phenomenal. Complex, hearty, warm and comforting. I don't know if it was authentic, but I like to think it was. Darling Husband suggested we might have to make it again for the Super Bowl.

Culinary Christmas Present

2010-01-25T21:45:00.003-05:00

The newest addition to my kitchen is a fantastic grill pan bought for me for Christmas by Darling Husband. It's a big rectangle that takes up two burners. Yippee!

So far we've made steaks, burgers, quesedillas, grilled ham and swiss, shrimp, um... pollenta... that might be it. I really like it. I will admit it took some getting used to, and the steaks we made had to go back on the grill twice until I managed to cook them the way we like them. And we like them medium rare. Quesedillas were easiest (Baby Girl is a big quesedilla fan. She likes the pineapple salsa. She also was munching happily on couscous the other day, so it balances out. I despair at times that she likes buttered noodles, cheese, nutrigrain bars, ham and graham crackers best. Presumably at some point this will all work itself out and she'll eat a lovely variety of things. Right?)

The grill pan is perfect for winter grilling and I'm so glad Darling Husband got it for me!

A perfectly poached egg

2010-01-17T07:46:00.004-05:00

I never bothered much with poaching eggs, probably because I'm not all that crazy about eggs in the first place. I mean, they have their uses (most definitely) and contexts. Rarely will I crave them, however, and I am probably about 50/50 when offered one.

Poaching eggs seems ridiculously hard and not worth it for water logged eggs. Still, it seems to be a thing and so I wanted to learn to do it and get it right. What I discovered was, in fact, it's almost ridiculously easy to poach eggs and yields soft, pillowy packets of wonderfulness. It might just be the perfect way to cook an egg.

The last time I'd poached an egg, I ended up with a rubbery disk which tasted like vinegar. I won't go into all the things I did terribly. I'll just tell you what I learned to do right.

First, I got the water to a nice boil. In the entire pot of water, I put a splash (about a cap full) of rice wine vinegar. I would have wanted to use white vinegar, but I didn't have any at hand. The three important points to remember are...

1. Swirl the water.
2. Crack the egg into a little bowl.
3. Watch the clock.

I'm now convinced if you keep these three in mind, you will have a perfectly poached egg, no matter what.

The biggest problem with poached eggs is making egg drop soup instead. In other words, the egg goes into the water at different points, resulting in independent gossamer ribbons of whites and a glop of yolk. The first two points address this problem. By swirling the water, you create a whirlpool which pressures the egg (once you slide it into the middle of the pan) into staying together. By cracking the egg into a little bowl before sliding it into the water, you come closer to ensuring the egg entering the water whole. I found that the rolling boil helps the egg tumble around and become a more formed thing, too, although it's important to keep an eye on the boil so that it doesn't boil over.

The moment the egg goes in, start the timer. For a large egg, you want about two and a half minutes to three minutes, depending on how runny you like your egg. I find about two and a half minutes to be perfect, with a molten center surrounded by set yolk. When you remove the egg (for example, with a slotted spoon) you want to dry it off. Place it to drain briefly on a pad of paper towels. Serve immediately, because residual heat will continue to cook the egg.

You can also do this ahead, and put the eggs into an ice bath. When you're ready to plate, simply slide back into hot water to heat. I've never done this but it's a chefy tip that I've heard at least three times on Food Network, so I'm passing it along.

Just now, I'm convinced that a couple of poached eggs over a bed of wilted arrugula is a perfect light lunch.

On a side note, can I just complain for a moment how frustrating it is that the egg people seem to have adopted the fast food fry and drink phenom? You used to be able to get small, medium or large things. Now it's large, really large and good God it's huge. They used to sell medium eggs, right? And, presumably, small eggs? I could've sworn I've even bought medium eggs. The last time I was at the store, I found large, extra large and jumbo. It's frustrating. And what makes a chicken lay a bigger egg? A bigger chicken? Mood music? Hormones?

Perhaps it's best not to think of it. Go poach an egg.

Iron Chef Me

2010-01-09T14:47:00.004-05:00

Today's secret ingredient is..... HAM!

Darling Husband presented me with prosciutto, spec, a huge ham steak and a big hunk of capicola.

So, I had to make three dishes. The happy part was Darling Husband offered to be my sous chef for the evening. First, though, I had to decide what to make.

The first thing I noticed about the ham steak was that it had a ham bone in it. I have to confess, for as frightened as I am by bones and as weirded out as I am to cook with them, I am smart enough to know that's where all the flavor is and it's a huge asset. My first thought is to pop that ham bone out and use it to make a broth. I decided to make a creamy white bean puree, cooked with ham bone and decorated with crispy ham of one description or another. Sounds pretty good, but that's just a side dish.

As a main course, to go with my bean puree, I decided to go old school and make ham wellington. This is particularly appealing to me for two reasons. First, because I have multiple tins of pate of various description in my cupboard and sheets of puff pastry in my freezer. Second, because it reminds me of a calzone meal my mom used to make when I was little, with ham, swiss, ricotta and spinach encased in a pizza type dough and baked. I didn't want to recreate this exactly, but I thought this would be a fun dish. Plus, I get to make duxelle. Who doesn't love that? The scary part of beef wellington is getting the pastry done without being doughy or overcooked while still cooking the beef through. I would be using the ham steak, which is already fully cooked. As long as I don't dry it out too much, I should be okay.

Baby Girl loves us to read books, and I've read Green Eggs and Ham too often not to have that pop into my head. She also loves ham, and asks for it all the time. She just likes it diced, not fancy, but I'm making Greens, Eggs and Ham just for her. I decided to poach an egg, and serve it with a white pizza with wilted greens and oven crisped prosciutto and capicola.

The spec is very dry, very pretty, wonderfully flavored. It's thinly sliced and screaming to be wrapped around something. My instinct was to wrap it around asparagus, but that wasn't special enough. I came up with the idea of using the spec like nori in a maki roll.

The sushi rice was surprisingly easy to make. To flavor, you just put a little rice wine vinegar and sugar. I made a solid wall of speck, then pressed on some sushi rice. It's sticky, and the key is to moisten your fingers when you do it. I filled it with a couple steamed asparagus spears, sliced mango and cucumber spears. Darling Husband helped me roll it, because I couldn't get it tight enough. I cut it with a sharp knife, but it was hard not to rip the spec.

The next dish was the Greens, Eggs and Ham. I wilted some baby arugula in oil rendered from cubes of capicola (more about that later) and used them as a nest for a poached egg. I served it with slices of pizza, which I made with naan, a tiny smear of farmer cheese, the shaved prosciutto, thinly sliced capicola and some tasty, earthy brie. I was blown away. It was a simple dish, but the flavors worked magnificently together, though I say it myself. Darling husband piled the greens and hunks of egg on his pizza--and yummmm.

For our third and final dish, the ham wellington. I made the duxelle by sauteing minced onion and cremini mushrooms and kept cooking until it was dry. I had cut the ham into a couple of same sized hunks and so spread the duxelle on top. Between the slices, we layered the foie gras. The individual wellingtons were gift wrapped into puff pastry and popped into the oven. Meanwhile, I had simmered the beans with the ham bone. I also rendered cubed capicola into crispy, wonderful lardons. Instead of actually pureeing the beans, I just mushed them a bit until they fell apart, then added in the capicola lardons.
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I thought everything turned out really well. The foie grasmelted into creamy wonderfulness, and the ham was perfectly moist. The pastry absorbed all the different flavors wonderfully. I thought the beans were tasty, too, but not nearly as good as the rest of it and I was hammed out. We still have a lot of ham leftovers. I don't know how I did on my challenge; we'll have to hope Darling Husband posts to give me a critique. Personally, I had fun cooking and I ate well that night. I'll post pictures soon!

My baby cooks

2010-01-06T11:40:00.003-05:00

Last night, Baby Girl helped cook her first meal.

She's a tremendous help around the house, actually. She does laundry and dishes, as well as feeding her fish. Well, I say "does" but before you accuse me of exploiting my 17 and a half month old, let me explain. What she does is follow directions very well. With laundry, she ferries clothes from a pile to the washer, provided you lift her up so she can throw them in. Once I've poured the detergent into the cup, she pours it into the washing machine. She also loves to be handed the wet clothes, mostly one garment at a time, and put them into the drier. She loves it? Yes. She actually asks to do laundry. When the clothes are dry, she can be persuaded to put them into a pile, but has less patience for folding (mostly she unfolds my piles, but I fold faster than she unfolds, so it works out). I credit my sister with this domestic turn, as she watches Baby Girl two days a week and laundry is one of their chores together.

As for the dishes, she can hand you clean dishes from the dishwasher to be put away. I tend not to load dirty ones in with her there, but she'd be happy to help out then, too.

Baby Girl is also the owner of a fish tank, populated by a merry little contingency of platys, hatchet fish and guppies. Every night she says "bye-ee" to them when we shut off the light, and every morning she helps to feed the fish. I put the flakes in my palm and she transfers them, a pinch at a time, to the fish tank.

Thinking back on all these skills, it dawned on me that she could certainly help cook! She is interested in what we do in the kitchen, of course. She has played in her high chair while we've cut vegetables and such, and she's even perched on my hip and watched in rapt attention while I assembled and cooked her quesedillas (I do many things one handed, the other holding her). But she's never actually helped.

I decided to capitalize on her established skills and have her help make spaghetti and meatballs. Okay, so it's not exactly marinara from scratch here, but I'm so proud of her. We had some leftover jarred sauce, which she poured into the oversized stock pan (to minimize splashes). She added the salt, basil, pepper, crushed red pepper, and oregano. She stirred it all up and then dropped in the meatballs, one by one, that we bought at the meat counter at Giant Eagle. She also added in extra water to thin out the sauce. Baby Girl then decided the meatballs were in the wrong place, so she picked a few back out and repositioned them elsewhere in the pot. I put an end to it there. Fortunately, she loves washing her hands (read: I have to limit her to ten minutes a wash, after each diaper change, project, meal, etc and whenever else she notices the sink) so we could clean up pretty well. Plus, Baby Girl will gladly clean up any drips or messes if you hand her a paper towel. My kitchen wasn't the worse for the wear and we had yummy dinner. Moreover, we have leftover meatballs, and that's right up her alley.

I'm very, very proud of her in so many ways. I hope to have a little helper in the kitchen for many years to come! When she leaves our home, she'll know how to feed herself and her family well--at least, that's the goal!

Shrimp bisque, sans legs

2010-01-04T23:12:00.002-05:00

I'm coming around to soup. It's been a long and slow process for me, and I still have some places in the Kingdom of Soup I just won't go (that oft-walked alleyway of chicken noodle haunts my nightmares) but in general, it's not so bad.

Tonight we made shrimp bisque. It all started with a can of Cream of Shrimp condensed soup we bought probably a year ago because we saw it in Wegman's and were intrigued. It's sat, unloved, in the pantry since then. Occasionally I look at it and think, "uh, I don't know... a sauce base? For...something? Chicken stuffed with crab and... oh, I'll think about it later," and then pass it by.

For some reason, it popped into my head the other day as a possible base for shrimp bisque. In fact, that's probably why Campbell's makes it and I'm just so soup-averse that it never occurred to me. Darling Husband will probably read this and laugh at how ridiculously dim I can be, but honestly I was thinking casserole and coming up short.

We decided it would need more shrimp, fresh herbs, onion, some wine and some heavy cream. Actually, I probably would've used milk or maybe half and half, but we had cream left over from the souffle and so in it went. I minced the onion and caramelized it in some olive oil, before Darling Husband deglazed with white wine. When we added the cream it occurred to us that we hadn't needed the can after all, but that was the whole point of the exercise so we put it in. After it had all come up to temperature, we slid in the shrimp and let them become pink and lovely. I pureed with a stick blender for consistency, added salt and voila. Bisque. Top portions with chives.

Incidentally, I used to love Wegman's shrimp bisque until they put out recipe cards on how they made it. Apparently, they peel the shrimp and then saute the shells and use them to make the stock. I'm fine with that. But then they puree the shells and everything together into the soup. Uh, eww! There's legs and stuff there!! I'm sure it's great calcium and probably that's where the color comes from and all the rest, but I have to draw the line somewhere and pureed exoskeleton is it. I haven't eaten it since. I choose not to think much about the origins of the can of cream of shrimp soup, by the way.

Our shrimp bisque was thick and slightly coarse, which was a lovely rustic touch. It had a strong shrimp flavor but was, I felt, nicely balanced. In January, my office has a soup party, where several of us make a crock-pot full of our favorite and everyone in the office has soup buffet for lunch. I might just make this. Actually, I won't, because the people in my office wouldn't eat it. Nevermind then. This is private soup.

New Year, New Game!

2010-01-03T16:50:00.003-05:00

Darling Husband and I have by no means exhausted our home-version of Chopped, but we've decided to play the home version of Iron Chef.

Here are the rules:

The mystery ingredient shall be one ingredient, chosen by the other person. The person cooking, then, will prepare three dishes using the secret ingredient. The dishes are to highlight that ingredient, and will be "judged" on taste, originality, presentation and technique.

To kick off the game, I chose the secret ingredient... SPINACH.

In true Iron Chef tradition, Darling Husband picked up baby spinach and regular spinach, both. His three dishes included seared scallops with spinach oil, spinach fettuccine with pancetta, and a spinach and chevre soufle.

First of all, I love seared scallops. If they're done well, that is, and oh my goodness does Darling Husband do them well. A properly seared scallop is not tough or stringy, but spongy and yielding. The crust is brown and nicely crunchy; the middle is cooked but definitely more rare than the outside. These scallops were sitting in a verdant pool of spinach oil. (Pool? "Pool" sounds like they were overwhelmed, but they weren't. I toyed with words like puddle and smear, but none of them fit. Pool is the closest, but it's a shallow, tasteful pool.) Darling Husband put mature spinach and olive oil in the blender with a pinch of salt, then put through a sieve to separate the solids. The oil itself was a beautiful pale moss color, flecked with solid bits of emerald. I could just eat the oil itself, sopped up with some nice french bred. In fact, I think I will do that tomorrow, as we have left over oil and it was scrumptious. When Darling Husband left the room, I actually licked the plate. In a ladylike way, of course.

The next dish presented was the fettuccine. Darling Husband said his inspiration for the pasta dish was the traditional spinach salad with hot bacon dressing. I can remember my mom making this for her friends at dinner parties. She has these shallow, dark wooden salad bowls and I remember them lined up, ready with the spinach and waiting while she encouraged guests to sit. As my father poured wine, she would render chopped pieces of bacon and so be able to serve the first course still sizzling. It seemed terribly posh when I was 10 and, come to think of it, still is.

Darling Husband bought fresh (as in not dried) spinach fettuccine, which was for the sake of time and sanity. In a real Iron Chef situation, he assures me he would have made his own. I don't fault him for it. I often buy pre-shredded cheddar.

His pasta sauce was, essentially, rendered pancetta with red onions, a pinch of crushed red pepper flakes, a splash of white wine and a little butter to mount it. He crumbled fresh farmer cheese on top and garnished with deep fried baby spinach leaves. Have you ever deep fried spinach? Of course not, but you should. It becomes beautifully brittle and crunchy but not actually hard, the green color popping out and looking very inviting. It's nutty and doesn't taste much like spinach at all. Deep frying herbs is in vogue now, and I seem to feel it was a thing that was done back in the 60's but I can't find any reference to it so I might be making that up. Goodness knows, though, people will deep fry anything--so why not leafy greens!

The pasta, as a dish, was wonderful and tasty. I'm looking forward to the leftovers.

And now, the soufle. I have to award him chutzpa points for making a soufle. We've made them before, but rarely and always by recipe. I don't understand soufles yet. I know there's a sort of creamy, yolky base which is folded into, essentially, meringue and then baked. But it includes an alchemy I just don't get. I'd like to, though, because mmmmmmmh soufle....

The big debate with a soufle is whether to do individual portions or one large one. Darling Husband opted for one large one (done in a casserole dish given to me by my grandmother, who is 92. Every time I use it to serve at a dinner party or to bring along to a pot luck, I get asked "where did you get that?" followed by "my mother/grandmother had one just like it!" They used to be sold by traveling salesmen). The soufle was beautifully brown on top and nicely puffy. It fell in the middle, of course, because all soufles will once the steam escapes and also because I accidentally opened the oven while it was cooking. Oops. Inside was wonderfully yielding egg yumminess with whole spinach leaves suspended. How do I describe the taste? I have no idea, except to say this:

It's cold today. The temperature is about 18 degrees with a wind chill below zero and wind gusting to 40 mph. It has been snowing all day. It is, in fact, blizzarding. Our house, while nearing it's 100 year birthday, is usually toasty but today we both felt chilled. When Darling Husband served the soufle, I had one blanket wrapped around my shoulders and another across my lap. (We have a rather nice, radiator style space heater. It's in Baby Girl's room.) I was shivery and dreading the meal ending, because I offered to Darling Husband that I would shovel the driveway and sidewalk after dinner since he cooked and would later take out the garbage. When he served the soufle, and I bit into it, I felt warm and comforted. The creaminess enveloped me like another blanket and I stopped caring about the weather. It was goooood.

Dinner was an unmitigated success. I congratulate Darling Huband on excellent interpretation of the secret ingredient, outside the obvious choices, and look forward to my turn. :o)

In case you're wondering, though I hadn't complained or rescinded my offer, Darling Husband proposed we swap shoveling for cleaning up the kitchen. I barely let him get the sentence out before I was agreeing to it with a little dance. He said he couldn't face the kitchen but would be willing to shovel, which was remarkable because I had the exact opposite urge. It was divine. Days like this make me wish we had a snow blower, but each year we get through it fine and never get around to seriously discussing such a big purchase. Oh well. Today was a lovely dance of give and take, actually. He got up Baby Girl while I took an extra half hour to lie in bed, I entertained Baby Girl during the Steeler's game, he gave her bananas and snacks while I showered, I put her to bed while he cooked, etc. In between we all hung out, happy to be without too many obligations on a Sunday after such a busy time of year. And to cap off such a day with a subtly tangy chevre soufle? Well, it was divine. Thank you, Darling Husband.

Happy Holidays

2009-12-29T23:38:00.003-05:00

Holiday time is challenging... we try to do too much in too little time, we want each moment to be perfect, and we want desperately to sleep and just to enjoy ourselves. I try not to get bogged down in the hubbub but to do the things that are important. This is why I no longer try to make Christmas cookies. This balance isn't always perfect, but I do my best.

To that end, this blog has gone by the wayside this past bit. It's not that I haven't thought of you, dear readers, but that I prefer to prioritize recovering from the stomach flu, wrapping presents, cuddling my family or actually cooking at any given moment. Last night, I preferred not to care why my internet connection wasn't working, once I discovered Darling Husband working on the problem. Ah, I thought, well, he's already fixed our hot water heater this week, surely I can fall asleep sure in the knowledge that all will be well.

And all was well. This is the kind of security I love in the parent/child relationship. It's not a child's job to worry about bills or the security (emotional or otherwise) of his parents, home or family. I'm blessed to have parents who not only realized that but were in a position to make that true. I hope to do the same for Baby Girl. I'm lucky to have a husband in whom I can put blind faith in like that from time to time, too, when being a grown up is not high on the priority list.

Here are some blog posts I've contemplated: how my daughter hates my quiche but loves my mother's, despite the fact that I make it as close to hers as I know how. Our Christmas Eve dinner, which we made for Darling Husband's family. My awesome culinary Christmas present from Darling Husband and the things I've made on it. Tonight's gumbo.

I might get to some of these in the future. I might also have other stuff to write about, and will forget about them. Either way, darling readers, I haven't forgotten about you. I'm just enjoying my holidays, enjoying being a stay-at-home mommy for a week, enjoying readjusting the pace of my world a bit, enjoying watching the snow fall and not caring too much about the roads. Be well, be safe, and if I don't see you, Happy New Year. May it bring us all peace, joy, health and happiness-- and a good meal or two. :o)

Thai food, baby!

2009-12-15T12:48:00.004-05:00

Okay, so many of you know my very favorite take-out food is Thai. (And my very favorite Thai restaurant is Thai Cuisine in Bloomfield, a cute neighborhood in Pittsburgh.) If you live in Erie you know there is no Thai food to speak of (there used to be Thai fusion at PaperMoon, but that didn't count and besides, they're closed--more's the pity). And that was sad...

...UNTIL NOW!

Located on North Park Row, right next to Catfish Kitchen and just a bit West of Bertrand's, Khao Thai is now open! I think they've been open a couple of weeks now. They have a small eat-in area which is nice and reminds me of a cross between a diner and ethnic food eatery (actually, it reminds me of this little family Greek food place near the Steeler's stadium that caters to the Steeler's croud and so serves spanikopita and also burgers, gyros and a breakfast buffet).

We opted to take-out, as it fits in better with Baby Girl's disposition and schedule. There were 54 items to choose from, including a kid's menu, I should mention. Baby girl didn't partake, but they offer grilled chicken over fried rice, honey marinated flank steak and also rice noodles stir fried with egg in a sweetened soy sauce. It's nice to see a kid's menu in a place like this, although I couldn't tell you if it was any good.

We had poh tak (seafood soup) which had gigantic muscles, scallops, shrimp and calamari in a lemongrass and lime broth. It was very flavorful, with shards of ginger and thai basil leaves. As a soup, though, it was a bit of a challenge, as the broth was so forthright we couldn't have much of it.

We then had bangkok beef, which was highly fragranced slices of flank steak, pan fried and topped with raw ginger. It was melty tender and wonderful, served with pickled vegetables that set off the flavors wonderfully. They reminded us of the pickled ginger you get with sushi.

Finally, we had drunken noodles. I'm not sure what was drunken about them (the menu didn't say) but they were lovely. Big fat rice noodles with basil leaves, onions, a little tomato and a lot of flavor. It was comfort food in anyone's language.

The food was very nice and the service fine, although we ordered a large soup and got a small. That being said, considering the small, we didn't want the large. It wasn't the mind-altering, life-changing experience I'd built it up to be in my head, but it was a very nice meal and I anticipate many more as we work our way through the menu. Give it a try!

Here's the scoop:

Khao Thai Restauraunt
36 North Park Row

454-4069
fax: 454-4096

Free delivery within 3 miles with a $15 minimum purchase

Open Monday through Saturday, 11am until 10pm.

Poshy Mac

2009-12-11T22:43:00.002-05:00

Darling Husband created comfort food of the Gods tonight. I was feeling a little funny and under the weather, so he whipped up homemade gourmet mac and cheese. He used cellentani noodles (big spiral tubes) and a made-from-scratch bechamel with cheddar and grueyere cheeses. To top it off, he put cornflakes and more cheese. The best part, though, was the lardons of pancetta. It was goey, crunchy, chewy and wonderful and just right for this blizzardy day. Thank you, honeybear!

Okay, readers...

2009-12-10T14:04:00.002-05:00

My loving mother bought a new fridge after her old one gave up the ghost at age 15ish. Her new fridge is fantastic and I'm quite jealous. It's one drawback is that it's smaller, capacity-wise, than her old one.

But out of adversity comes presents for me! I went home with a bag of frozen foods and a bag of fresh goodies.

Now, here's the challenge: what can we make?

Here are the ingredients:

Fresh kale
Swiss cheese
Provolone
Fresh pasta sheets (frozen)
Puff pastry shells
Puff pastry sheets
Parsnips
Frozen edemame
Frozen bell pepper strips
A whole zucchini
A whole eggplant
Walnuts
Limes

Dear readers, what might you make? I'm not envisioning one meal containing everything, but Darling Husband and I are brainstorming possibilities. Post your ideas! If we make them, I'll post pictures. :o)

Cheddar that can almost drive

2009-12-09T00:02:00.005-05:00

Did you hear about this? NPR and others ran stories about this aged cheddar (15 years old!)which is selling for $50 a pound. If you haven't read about it, please check it out; the gist is this small cheesery (my word) let more than a thousand pounds of cheddar age beyond anyone's rational expectation and is selling it.

I loved hearing this story, but I wish they had found someone other than this man--the owner of Hooks Cheese Company--o interview. I have nothing against Mr Hooks (aka Mr Cheese), but he's obviously the guy in charge and not the master cheesemeister. If he was, he would be able to make attempts to describe the cheese.

Mr Hooks asserts that the cheese is not bitter, not acidic, has no off flavors but is very flavorful. In one interview, he says it has more of a cheddar flavor. In another, he says it has lost the acidic cheddar flavor. Well, I'm confused.

If you're selling it for $50 a pound, you must be able to justify that amount. Perhaps there are enough cheese aficionados to buy up all 1,200 pounds of it (that's $60,000 worth of cheese). I realize his NPR interview wasn't meant to be a sales pitch. Describing the taste of food isn't exactly easy, particularly if it is unusual. But listen to vintners or those who brew beer. There's a whole language to it. I refuse to believe that you can age a cheese for 15 years and only be able to describe it in the negative.

Compare his blah description (or non-description) to that of the Francis Ford Coppola Winery's description of their Sophia Blanc de Blancs: Delicately fruity and delightfully refreshing, Sofia Blanc de Blancs is a rare blend of Pinot Blanc, Sauvignon Blanc, and Muscat. The crisp flavors of apples and pears are made brighter by a hint of citrus and honeysuckle. Elegant in character, this wine is lightly textured and vibrant through the finish.

Or, to Samuel Adams Boston Lager, described by their company as: Full bodied and complex. Carmel sweet balanced with distinct citrus and piney notes. A strong, smooth finish and mouthfeel.

Perhaps Mr Hooks should take a note from the Wisconsin Cheese website, by the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board. They, in fact, feature him and his wife, Julia, and note that they have been making cheese for 35 years. Perhaps he's not just the owner. Maybe he's just not well spoken in interviews. However, Wisconsin Cheese describes cheddar as follows: As Cheddar ages, its texture, flavor and performance change: Mild Cheddar has a firm, elastic texture. It slices, shreds and melts well. Medium Cheddar has a texture that is slightly creamier than mild, with a fuller Cheddar flavor often described as brothy. It slices, shreds, melts and blends well into sauces. Aged Cheddar has a texture both crumbly and creamy, with a flavor often described as beefy. It shreds and melts well.

It's possible (although, to be honest, I feel I'm bending over backwards at this point) that Mr Hooks was just employing words that have meaning in the industry and in common vernacular. The same Wisconsin Cheese site has a glossary of cheese terms. In it, bitter is described as "a sensation that is typified by the aftertaste of grapefruit peel". Acidic is "A descriptive term for cheese with a pleasant tang and sourish flavor due to a concentration of acid. By contrast, a cheese with a sharp or biting, sour taste indicates an excessive concentration of acid which is a defect." Indeed, even his negation of off flavors has some merit, as "off" is defined as "A term referring to undesirable flavors or odors too faint or ill-defined to be more precisely characterized." So, Mr Hooks was saying his cheese ISN'T these things.

The argument falls apart, however, when we look up "flavorful." I did find "flavor," which is described as follows: A general term for the taste cheese presents as it is eaten. Flavor is detected in the mouth and also by the nose. Flavors, in order of ascending aggressiveness, are described as faint (fleeting), mild (light or bland), pronounced (distinct) or strong (intense). Flavors may also be described by the tastes they resemble, such as nutty, salty, buttery, fruity and peppery. Flavor is categorized by initial tastes as well as by aftertastes.

SEE, Mr Hooks? So many words to choose from!

To be fair, The Hooks Cheese Company website has some description of the cheese. Starting with the 1 year old cheddar (A colored cheddar that has a nice flavor, a little sharper than our medium cheddar. This is what most stores would call a sharp cheddar,) it progresses:

Hook's Two Year Sharp Cheddar A white cheddar that is a little sharper than our one year cheddar.

Hook's Three Year Sharp Cheddar A colored cheddar that is starting to show the nice acidic sharpness with a good cheddar flavor.

Hook's Four Year Sharp Cheddar A white cheddar with a nice, sharp cheddary flavor.

Hook's Five Year Sharp Cheddar An extra sharp cheddar with a nice, full flavor.

Hook's Six Year Sharp Cheddar An extra sharp white cheddar with a nice full cheddar flavor.

Hook's Seven Year Sharp Cheddar An extra sharp cheddar with some calcium (calcium lactate) crystals that add a little crunch. This cheddar has a lot of flavor and is a little smoother than the Five Year.

Hook's Eight Year Sharp Cheddar An extra sharp white cheddar with a lot of flavor.

Hook's Ten Year Sharp Cheddar Our 10 year cheddar won 1st place at the 2006 American Cheese Society Show, the only 10 year cheddar to get a 1st place in this, or any competition. It has more calcium crystals than our 7 year cheddar. It has a full, rich cheddar flavor and a smooth finish.

Hook's Twelve Year Sharp Cheddar Our 12 year colored cheddar has a lot of calcium crystals and a great, rich cheddar flavor.

... Look, I appreciate the attempt, and there's probably a subtle difference between years, but years 5, 6 and 8 pretty much said the same thing.

I have no doubt that this is a fantastic cheese, and even worth it's price tag. After all, whether or not something is worth the money is usually determined by whether or not people will pay it. Certainly there are those who would buy it for the novelty, or for the snobbery, or for the curiosity. I guess I'm disappointed that the interviewers never pressed the point that is begging to be pressed: what does a 15 year old cheese taste like? For me, $50 better buy me a lot more than not bitter or off tasting.

Meatless Beatle

2009-12-08T23:55:00.004-05:00

This one's for you, Sir Paul.

Sir Paul McCartney has asked the European Union to consider adopting Meatless Mondays. Al Gore, climate change experts and other environmentalists are also urging people to eschew meat once a week. Why? According to its proponents, a reduction of meat consumption can positively affect greenhouse gas production, river and stream pollution, water consumption, and dependence on fossil fuels. Dr. Rajendra Pachauri, chair of the U.N. Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has called eating less meat "one of the most important personal choices we can make to address climate change."

The push to eat locally produced foods (thereby cutting down on gas consumption and emissions) is good for the environment and also the local community. We like to support local businesses when we can. For two years, we tried to belong to a CSA, but it failed two years in a row. The first year, there wasn't enough interest. The second year, there weren't enough crops. Maybe we need to pick another farm, although Farmer Troy seems like a very agreeable fellow.

This newer twist, to eat local, sustainable plant based products, goes that much further. Sir Paul and others want governments to be the ones to take the bull by the horns to reduce consumption. So far, Baltimore, MD public schools are on board, as is Covington, KY. Globally, it's picking up popularity in Canada, Brazil, Belgium, Taiwan, Finland and Tel Aviv, Israel. Exactly what each of these places is doing for the movement, I'm not sure, but they all seem to support it.

Changing one's personal eating habits for the sake of the greater good is not a new idea. Meatless Monday, in fact, is a term from WWI when our government encouraged us to do our part to help the war effort. It seems generations before mine were much more willing to give things up for a cause. I think we were less cynical about government then, in those pre-nixon days. What do I know about it, though? I'm only 30.

Darling Husband and I didn't actually discuss joining in with Meatless Mondays, and I'm not sure we've officially decided to do this. It just so happened that Monday's dinner was meatless. It was not, however, entirely vegetarian and certainly wasn't vegan. It could've been, but we weren't thinking about the connection until the very end. Sorry, Sir Paul.

My mother bought too much baby bok choy, and so gifted some to us. We chopped it into 1 inch pieces (it was remarkably teenaged for being termed "baby"-- much larger than I expected it to be. Many baby bok choy are the size of your palm. These were 3x as large, but still significantly smaller than traditional bok choy) and stir fried it with matchstick carrots, bamboo shoots, baby corn and scallions. Darling Husband was in charge of tofu and sauce. For the tofu, he first pressed much of the liquid out of it using a cutting board and a jug of cider for weight. Then he cut it into somewhat flat squares and fried it, getting a nice, crispy texture and producing tofu that didn't fall apart when stirred into the dish. For the sauce, he used sambol olek, oyster sauce, sugar and black vinegar. I made rice, flavoring it with a few dashes of ground cayenne and a couple of frozen cubes of turkey stock.

The turkey stock and the oyster sauce negates the vegetarian idea. The imported vinegar, sambol olek, oyster sauce and non-local corn and bok choy blew the whole reduction of fossil fuels thing out of the water. Sorry, Sir Paul. We'll plan ahead next time. In the spirit of cutting back on our meat consumption, both in terms of buying meat (we had considered pork for the dish) and consuming meat (health benefits), we did seem to do that. So I think it's a move in the right direction, as far as Meatless Mondays is concerned.

Pass the pudding

2009-12-05T11:47:00.003-05:00

Problem: One large ziplock bag containing about a dozen small dinner rolls, given to us as leftovers by loving family.

Solution: Savory bread pudding. Or stuffing. Or, if you prefer, chunky strata.

What's the difference between these things? There isn't much of one. When you take bread, bind it with egg and milk, mix in some veggies or other items, then bake it... well, pretty much you've described each of them. Strata tends to be more slices of bread supersaturated with scrambled egg mix, then baked and sliced. Stuffing tends to be a bit dryer, and made with hunks or cubes. (I am, by the way, calling a dish "stuffing" that probably should be called "dressing," as it's never quite stuffed into anything. But it could be. Poultry, acorn squash, pork, the list goes on.) The British, by the way, would call all of these "puddings." They're very liberal with the word, whereas Americans get a bit touchy about it.

Our dish involved a bit of sage stuffing left over in the freezer. It went into the pan straight from the freezer, the way I remember my mother doing with ground beef. Perhaps food scientists would tell us not to do this (who knows?) but it's kinda fun to flip the frozen block, scrape off the cooked and defrosted part with your wooden spoon, wait a moment or two, then flip it back and repeat on the other side. It certainly makes for a fine crumble, which worked well for this use.

I tossed the cubed rolls into the drippings from the sausage, having first turned off the heat. Then I added in some craisins, golden raisins, leftover corn kernels (I was just scanning the fridge at this point) and cut up some leftover sweet potato fries. It looked very lovely and colorful in the pan. To bind, I stirred in two eggs which had been beaten with a bit of milk, pepper and herb seasoning mix. It was an odd amount for any pan I could think of, so I improvised a vessel out of foil and set it inside my big lasagna pan to bake.

The finished product was a bit crumbly--I might've used more egg mixture, which would've made more of a cohesive dish. Flavor wise, though, I can't complain. The sausage added a nice complexity and permeated the bread with that yummy comes-from-grease-but-not-greasy flavor, while the dried fruit was like punches of color on the palate. Craisins, particularly, are both tart and sweet and so do double duty. The sweet potato fries had started off creamy soft and caramelized, and became even more so. They were the softest part of the dish. Darling Husband and I felt the corn, however, was the surprise hit of the day.

I am a fan of such "puddings" and recommend making them with various combinations of ingredients. Cornbread? Yum! Chestnuts? Yum! Grated zucchini? Yum! Cubed squash? Yum! The list goes on and on.

Panini power

2009-12-04T22:51:00.002-05:00

What do you get when you put brie, arrugula, pastrami and creamy artichoke spread on soft Italian bread and toast it on your George Foreman grill? A really kickin' panini with an ecclectic flavor profile which, never the less, works. The brie became melty and gooey but retained what Darling Husband lovingly calls "brie funk," and was a fantastic cement for the sandwich. Pastram was another of Darling Husband's ideas. I had suggested roast beef, but the salty cure and smoke that is pastrami worked surprisingly well in the sandwich.

We served with butternut squash soup from a container. It was much, much thinner than our home made and had a lot of stock flavor. That being said, it was more refreshing, too. In the future I might add a bit of hot sauce or 5 spice powder to the soup.

My ingredients, a photolog

2009-11-28T22:04:00.007-05:00

Castlevetrano olives

When I smashed them to remove the pits, I found I was making olive oil on my board. And yes, the most virgin of the oils tasted awesome.

Red snapper

Skinning the fillet, exposing beautiful grain

Sour dough.
Persimmon. Raw, it was a bit sweet but had a strangely coating taste in the mouth. We later learned this was from the tannins. Cooked down and blended, the tannins rendered the whole thing tongue scrapingly bad. I had to throw it out. According to wikipedia, our persimmon must have been unripe.

Tomato juice

Reducing the juice to come closer to a sauce.

The finished product, to be more fully explained at a later date. Crusted snapper over tortelini, coated in a bloody mary marinara, with sourdough toasts.

The weekend's winning dishes

2009-11-28T21:26:00.004-05:00

Having gone to three separate Thanksgiving dinners, and traveled four hours to do so, Darling Husband and I got to talking and have compiled our "best of" list for the holiday.

Best Turkey:
My parents. It was moist and flavorful, with lovely white and dark meat. An all around nice bird--nothing fancy, but well seasoned and cooked just right.

Best Stuffing:
Darling Husband's paternal grandmother. Cooked in the bird and, therefore, wonderfully moist with the drippings from the turkey. I think we both got a touch of food poisoning from it, but it was darkly worth it. The veggies in it were not raw, as can be a problem with onions and celery in stuffing. It was the stuffing all stuffings wish they could be, and food scientists warn us about.

Best Potatoes:
My parents. Flavorful, creamy, dreamy. Just right as a vehicle for gravy or a foundation for a forkful of everything.

Best Pie:
Darling Husband's paternal grandmother. She says she'd rather bake than cook. God bless her, she's like my sister in that. It serves her well, though, as her pie was fantastic (even though she forgot the whipped cream). It wasn't glutenous or gelatinous, as pumpkin pie can be, nor was it heavy. The custard was just right. Baby Girl ate a whole piece herself.

Best Gravy:
It's a tie between my parents and Darling Husband's maternal grandmother. Actually, I think his mom actually made the gravy, and that's where the problem came in. Our mothers both made gravy the way they make gravy, and therefore we both picked our own mother's gravy as the most exemplary. My mom's was thinner than his mom's, with more of the flavor of the bird. His mom's was thicker and more stick to your ribs, with a lovely consistency. [It's worth noting that the other Thanksgiving dinner's gravy was unusually made. The aunt who was in charge insisted on using water from the potatoes for thickening the gravy. To us, it was a miss for a number of reasons, and this might have been one of them. For one thing, it just never emulsified and seemed greasy. As Darling Husband pointed out, the starch in the water would have already been cooked and done it's thing. For another, it's adding quite a bit of extraneous liquid to cook out. I guess it's an interesting idea, but for that reason or perhaps not, the gravy wasn't a hit for us.]

Best Beta Carotine Veg (sweet potato or squash):
Darling Husband's maternal grandmother. Darling Husband's aunt and uncle brought a lovely hubbard squash dish with cranberries and just a hint of cinnamon. Hubbard squash is rather pumpkiny in taste and texture; it's more fibrous than acorn or butternut. The cranberries were a wonderful bright note.

Best Veggie (unspecified):
This one also was a tie. The first veg we loved was at Darling Husband's paternal grandmother. They make a corn casserole, which is probably a spoon bread of some kind. Mmmmh, it is so good. It has corn kernels and corn meal and sour cream and I don't know what else. It's sweet but not sugary, starchy but fluffy. It's addictive.

The second veg we loved was, actually, our own. We made brussel sprouts and brought them to Darling Husband's maternal grandmother's Thanksgiving. First, we trimmed and halved the brussel sprouts, tossing them in olive oil and seasoning with salt and pepper. Then we roasted them cut side down on a baking stone in a 415 degree oven. Meanwhile, we reduced some balsamic vinegar slightly (we've over reduced before and wound up with tar, so I was a bit gun shy and could have reduced further) and halved some dried figs. When the sprouts were out of the oven, we added the figs and a few handfuls of candied walnuts and tossed with the balsamic. Roasting them brings out the sweetness and mellows the harsh cabbage bitterness, plus adds a bit of carmelization and wonderful flavor. The balsamic was tart and sweet and rich with umami. And while figs and candied walnuts are sweet, the overall flavor of the dish has enough dark flavors that it's not overwhelmingly sweet at all.

Oh, and then there was my mother's green beans, which had grown in her garden and had a wonderful crispness... Hmmm. I guess we ate pretty well this weekend. Thank you to all our family for their hospitality, good food and generous love. We're thankful for you all.

Leftover treasure

2009-11-28T21:10:00.002-05:00

Darling Husband, Baby Girl and I don't make Thanksgiving dinner. Instead, we travel to my parents and both sides of Darling Husband's family- that's THREE Thanksgivings. I used to think that when we had children we'd whittle that down, but it hasn't happened yet. We're too excited to see everyone and show off our little girl to cut one out. It has up sides and down sides. It also means that we don't get much in the way of left overs unless someone packs them up and gives them to us. (I know someone who roasts their own turkey expressly for leftovers, though they eat dinner at a relative's house. I think that's overkill, myself.)

That being said, I've come up with a list of left over gems for you, my dear reader, to stave off hum drum turkey sandwich blahs.

Turkey:

Gumbo
Turkey Waldorf salad
Hash
Panini sandwiches
Cheddar tortilla soup
Fajitas
Pot pie
Chef salad

Potatoes:

Potato pancakes
Potato cakes
Shepherd's pie
Gnocci
Perogi filling
Potato soup (possibly with bacon and/or leeks)

Cranberry sauce:

Reduced down as a glaze for pork tenderloin
On baguette with brie

Stuffing:

Okay, if you made good stuffing, you wouldn't have any leftovers.

Rolls:

Breakfast strata
Savory bread pudding
Sweet bread pudding
Garlic croutons
Fresh breadcrumbs

This year, the only leftovers we're expecting is some home made turkey stock. I plan to freeze it in ice cube trays, then use it to make risotto or to flavor rice.

Hope this list helps! Feel free to add comments of your own ingenious ideas for left over turkey day fixins.

I give a fig

2009-11-27T22:11:00.004-05:00

Figs are lovely and terribly underused. Fresh figs are pricey and hard to find at times, but they've available dried all the time. I think many people are afraid of figs, unless it's in a fig newton. The seeds inside are crunchy in a sparkly way; it's delightful.

What could be a simpler appetizer than a dried fig, split and stuffed with blue cheese? Salty, sweet, creamy, crunchy and just bite sized.

Tonight we made a quick, savory tart topped with sauteed onions which were deglazed with balsamic vinegar, asiago cheese, quartered figs, mozzarella and torn prosciutto. Along with a simple salad, it was just the thing to cap off black Friday.

My magic 5

2009-11-22T22:18:00.002-05:00

Darling Husband gave me the following ingredients, from which I am to make a yummy meal:

Sourdough bread
Red snapper fillet
Castelvetrano olives
Persimmon
Tomato juice

Initial impressions: hmmmm, interesting! And eww! I don't like to drink tomato juice, but I know it will be workable. Sourdough is not something I enjoy, but surely the flavor can be masked. Red snapper sounds rockin'. Green olives, which Darling Husband assures me are not very brined or aged... I'm intrigued. Persimmons are beautiful and I have no idea what they're like. Sweet? Tart? Full of pips? You got me; we'll find out.

Beaujolais nouveau est arrive!

2009-11-20T21:07:00.004-05:00

Each year, on the third Thursday in November, the wine and spirit stores release the year's beaujolais nouveau for sale. Ah, and what a day it is! My parents have taken to celebrating with a cocktail party (serving, obviously, only beaujolais nouveau).

This is a wine meant to be drunk immediately, as a celebration of the harvest. It is young, immature, and frankly will not be the best wine you drink. Some years it's awesome (two years ago, in fact, was a phenomenal year) and others, a bit "eh" (like last year). For me, that adds to the charm. It may be vin ordinaire, but that doesn't mean it's bad. Apparently some people see this as the wine of Thanksgiving, although it honestly never occured to me to connect the two.

One should drink the beaujoulais nouveau before the next year's harvest, although in our house it's never lasted that long. Darling Husband has just reminded me that we gave away our last bottle of last year's wine this August, which I suppose is breaking that rule. Honestly, though, it was hiding behind some marechal foch and I found it in the wine rack and we were running late and it's not polite to show up empty handed and anyway it was a relatively informal picnic and...

Yes. Well. It's to be drunk by spring. Moving on.

My mother served "heavy hors d'oerves," which I think is a way for her to serve buffet style and not worry that people are leaving hungry. She still worried. She shouldn't have.

Here are some of lovely foods on which we nibbled:

*Shrimp with cocktail sauce
*Assorted fresh veggies
*Home made hummus
*Rice, cheese and spinach bake
*Assorted French cheeses (God bless runny cheeses...)
*Jalapeno poppers
*Mini corn dogs
*Ham, turkey and cheese with rolls, to make tiny sandwiches
*Olives

I just might be forgetting something, but the dozen or so of us there munched and quaffed and laughed quite contentedly. Baby Girl was with a sitter for the first time (as opposed to spending time with her grand parents or aunt) and did very well, but I wasn't willing to let it go more than an hour and a half. It's too bad, because the conversation was sparkling, the company relaxed and convivial, the food fun and satisfying and the wine very drinkable.

If you're going to snag a bottle, better be quick about it. It doesn't last long in stores and some unscrupulous wine sellers have been known to put aside a case of it for themselves and their friends. If you don't see it on the shelf, ask and it's possible they will "find" a bottle in the back after all. :o)

Meatloaf and charred food

2009-11-09T22:21:00.003-05:00

Much as I'd like to pretend they aren't, the holidays are around the corner. Everyone's familiar with the new wife story of burning the first Thanksgiving dinner with the in laws or some such cliche, right? Well, tonight was the 30 year old, 5 years married version: the burning of the first meatloaf dinner.

What's that, you say? You've never made a meatloaf? As I believe I've mentioned, Darling Husband has bad meatloaf memories/associations (as well as barbecued ham, sloppy joe's and anything else that seems to have ketchup as a main ingredient). Therefore there will not be a night when I say, "What would you like for dinner?" and he says "MEATLOAF!" Nor is there likely to be a night where I say, "Would you like meatloaf or stir fry?" and have him pick the former. As such, I never made a meatloaf. It wasn't something my mom made often, so it wasn't something I missed or craved.

Still, I was inspired by my mom's meatloaf she made a couple months back and heartened by the fact that Darling Husband ate it with good graces. It didn't have the ketchup glaze he seemed convinced it would have, nor did it taste appreciably of the K word as a binder.

Tonight I made my first meatloaf. I used ground beef, crushed ritz crackers, a packet of onion soup seasoning (savvy readers will find this familiar), an egg, some "kickin' chicken" seasoning and white wine. I formed it into two small loaves and set them on top of a rack over a rimmed baking sheet, to allow maximum crust formation and minimize the loaf bathing in fat.

For side dishes, I cut some carrots into coins and put them in a sauce pan with some ginger ale and a bit of sambol olek to reduce and glaze. Also, I made wild rice pilaf.

Where does the charred food come in? The smoke filled house? The tears?

Right here, folks (minus the tears. We were more stoic this evening.) They say Lucifer was cast out of heaven for his pride, and for the same reason my side dishes turned into fiery infernos. I was so blasted proud of myself for prepping the whole meal in the 20 minutes I could reasonably spare between work and picking up Baby Girl from daycare that I let myself get cocky. I set the water to boil for the rice, popped the loaves in the oven and got the carrots heating just before taking Baby Girl up to bed. I asked Darling Husband to peek in at them when he was done reading stories to her.

The next thing I know, he's telling me that the pan for the water has boiled dry and begun to burn, and the carrots are a tarry, charred, carbon mess. Whoops. I guess my brilliant plan isn't so brilliant. Fortunately, the meatloaf was fine. Multi tasking doesn't work. Studies say that, and so does the news and yet still I believe I am the one person on earth who can competently juggle things and not get, ahem, burned.

On the plus side, I was able to re-make the rice and found some peas and edamame in the fridge. Dinner was saved. As for the meatloaf? Well, Darling Husband had seconds. I think that speaks for itself.

Flashback--I forgot to say

2009-11-08T23:19:00.002-05:00

Remember the cauliflower and potato gratin I kept meaning to make? When I finally did, it made so much we were eating it for every meal. I found a pretty cool way to use up the leftovers. I made it into soup by adding some chicken stock and a bit of milk and pureeing with my stick blender. A few crushed red pepper flakes and voila!

I know, I know, I keep saying I don't like soup and then I keep making soup. I guess it's just one of those things. I must be getting feeble in my old age. :o)

Challenge resolved

2009-11-08T22:33:00.002-05:00

Darling Husband rose valiantly to the challenge I presented him. Namely, to create a meal using pepperjack cheese, a whole chicken, pomegranate, turnips and sweetened condensed milk.

I'm going to pause here to expound upon the ingredients. Whole chicken is daunting. Your first decision is whether to butcher it or roast it as-is, whereupon you'll have to butcher it to eat it (a slightly coarser but none less true way of saying "carve"). We are used to our chicken being butchered for us--or, at least, we are in this house. Mostly we buy boneless, skinless chicken breasts or breast tenders. This being the point of reference, facing an entire bird is a little like working from a 3-D model when you're used to a map.

Pomegranates, too, are a bit of a conundrum. There are multiple methods for extracting the seeds, which sit like tiny bombs packed tightly and vacuum sealed inside oddly styrofoam like sections. I generally slice off the top, crack it in half, then use my fingers to peel apart the membranes and gently massage out the jewel-like seeds. Other methods involve floating in water while you do it (the membrane hunks float, the seeds sink) or whacking the fruit with the back of a wooden spoon on the outside. Whichever method you use, you will still stain your hands with the juice. Hopefully you won't stain your shirt and counter, too. When you are finished, you are left with stunning little gems, resembling corn kernels but ruby red, that are tart and intensely flavorful. Each seed contains a relatively large pip. One generally eats them whole, but I find the pips get stuck in my teeth and crunch oddly. In other words, they carry baggage.

Turnips don't get a lot of love. Like rutabagas, brussel sprouts and parsnips, they are not fashionable and people aren't really sure what to do with them. Our grandmothers did, though, and we need to learn again. Turnips can be bitey and unapproachable in the way radishes are, but they can also be mellowed nicely. Darling Husband found a perfect way and turnips are destined to be a regular visitor to my kitchen. I also like the look of turnips. They remind me of buoys or those spacer things that hold up the ropes that set off lap lanes in pools. Did you know that turnip skin is actually white, but turns purpley where the sun hits it? In this way you can tell how much of your turnip was out of the ground when it was picked.

Sweetened condensed milk is tinned milk which has had much of the water removed and sugar added. As far as I know, it's used to make pie filings and other desserts. Certain parts of the world use it to sweeten coffee, and that sounds like a much better use to me.

Pepperjack cheese isn't all that odd or unusual or even unapproachable. It's just an oddity to mix with other stuff. Personally, I like it best cut into cubes and microwaved until just soft and stringy-oozy-goey, but not so far that it loses shape.

What did Darling Husband make with these ingredients? Well, the turnips he poached in mostly regular milk with a few tablespoons of the sweetened condensed milk, a bay leaf and a bit of allspice. I tried one cooked like this--heavenly, creamy, tasty, wonderful. From this he made a mash and added the cheese.

He cut the back bone out of the chicken and flattened it, then stuffed butter and rosemary under the skin. He seared the chicken skin side down, then finished roasting it in the oven. When it was done, he made a pan sauce out of more of the sweetened milk, some white wine and a bit of cornstarch to thicken.

Lastly, he created lardons out of pepper bacon, then wilted arugula into it and tossed with the pomegranate seeds. It was a beautiful side dish, all gem tones and poppy flavors.

The chicken turned out wonderfully moist and heavily perfumed from the rosemary. It was a bit daunting to serve; I ended up sectioning off the leg/thigh and then carving the breast off the ribcage. The sauce was rather thick, as it had cooled a bit, and also rather sweet. It had taken on a nutty component from somewhere and I kept looking for the nuts in it without realizing quite why.

I loved the greens, although the pip-conundrum was still there. Fortunately everything tasted like yummy bacon. :o) I delicately and discretely (I hope) removed a few of the pips from my mouth, but then gave up and just tried not to bite down too hard. Flavor wise, though, it was marvy and fab.

The turnips? Well, if he had stopped before the cheese I would be praising him to high heaven. As it was, though, I kept wishing the cheese wasn't there. It didn't exactly clash, and the textures weren't too dissimilar... I'm not sure exactly what it was, frankly.

All told, I think we learned some awesome things in this dish. Turnips are not scary and can be wonderfully prepared. Bacon and greens are fantastic. Chickens can be conquered!

Chopped challenge again

2009-11-07T22:28:00.003-05:00

Darling Husband has the following ingredients:

Turnips

A whole chicken

Pomegranate

Pepperjack cheese

Sweetened condensed milk.

Tonight was supposed to be the night he was cooking, but Baby Girl spiked a fever after her nap and we were subsequently occupied by reading many, many books at her request. At 15 months, she delights in setting us to tasks. She'll hand me a book (and of course she can recognize her favorites) and I'll read a bit. Sometimes I finish, sometimes she grabs it away and hands me a different one, sometimes she takes it from me and hands it to her daddy to finish reading. Tonight we amused ourselves by giving the characters in The Little Mermaid accents. King Triton had a French accent. Ariel was Cockney British. Ursula was Eastern European. Sabastian was Jamaican (as he was in the movie) and Prince Eric talked like William Shatner. We ad-libbed a bit and cracked ourselves up, which made Baby Girl laugh, which resulted in us reading The Little Mermaid 3 times before the evening was out.

When she was finally asleep, we had only the energy to pop frozen chicken patties in the oven. Darling Husband put wing sauce and blue cheese dressing on his, while mine had bbq sauce and shredded cheddar. We'll go fancy tomorrow night.

Spud dud

2009-11-06T22:22:00.002-05:00

It all started out so promisingly. A passing reference on the Food Network to the properties of frozen foods, a mention of the poor freezing qualities of certain veggies, the suggestion of using this to advantage...

Science experiments look great on paper. In the lab, however, it's every person for herself.

I should explain.

Freezing foods preserves them, but sometimes at a price. Ice crystals are sharp and jagged and poke holes in cell walls, breaking down structure and releasing liquid. This is why strawberries, once thawed, will always be sort of limp. For cooked foods, this has already happened through another process so it's not noticeable.

Baked potatoes are great. Mashed potatoes are great. But what if you could create both at once without the time and hassle of making "twice baked"? (this is probably my favorite potato prep, btw)

If I take a raw potato, scrub it well, then freeze it solid...

then defrost it...

then bake it...

will I get a lovely outer crust and mashed inside? Will it be the perfect food?

Um, no. In the defrosting, the potato sheds copious amounts of much-needed moisture. For some reason, the moisture is dark brown and creepy. It soaks the paper towels and drips all over my counter before I get smart and put them in a tupperware. However, touching the spud reveals a truly squishy potato. Already it seems like mashed potato trapped like magic in the skin. I am hopeful.

The baking takes absurdly long and the results are, well, surprising. The potato is now exponentially harder and firmer than it was before cooking. It also tastes raw. It's like my oven was a time machine instead.

What exactly went wrong? I think it was the release of all that liquid, depriving the potato of the building blocks of steam. Next time, we'll try putting them straight from freezer to oven in the hopes that this combats some of the loss of fluids.

It was such a cool idea, but a good scientist admits and publishes defeats as well as successes. I formed a hypothesis, tested it, and found that it did not hold up in this experiment. Further tweaking required.

If any of you try this and it works, let me know what you did to get it...

Super quick, yummy soup

2009-11-06T22:18:00.002-05:00

I'm not big on soup, as loyal readers will remember. Butternut squash, however, just screams to be made into creamy goodness to be slurped from a spoon.

I like to roast my squash with garlic, tossed in olive oil, in a nicely hot oven until soft. Adding salt, pepper, crushed red pepper and broth makes it soup. Voila. Milk may be added to enhance creaminess (always a plus) and proportions are flexible as the desired consistency nears. It's hearty and wonderfully fragrant. A bit of fresh sage, a sprinkle of chopped walnut, a few little pastas would each be nice variations, but I tend to like my pretty straight forward.

Sweet and sour pasta

2009-11-06T22:07:00.002-05:00

I was very excited to try a recipe we picked up at Wegman's last weekend, because it is one of the few recipes that seemed truly new to me. It's not something I ever would've put together, it didn't even exactly make sense, and if I hadn't tasted it I probably would've turned my nose up at it.

The name they gave it escapes me (and I can't put my hand on the recipe card--sorry!) but it was designed for a slow cooker. I chose to make it all at once, but I think it did lack a certain marriage of flavor and textural surrender that 10 hours of cooking brings.

The recipe calls for chopped green cabbage, golden raisins, sausage, tomato paste, crushed tomato, red wine vinegar, red onion, a pinch of sugar and, of course, salt/pepper. Originally all of this was to be layered in the crock pot and let go, but I adapted it. First, I browned the sausage and removed it from the pan. Then I softened the onion and added the cabbage, cooking until it was all soft and had released moisture. I chopped the raisins and pureed them with some of the tomato liquid to accelerate the flavor release, then added to the pan with the rest of the ingredients. I allowed it all to simmer and bubble away for an hour or so, then served over pasta.

It was, indeed, both sweet and sour, as well as hearty and tasty. Generally, the idea of cabbage with tomato sauce is a bit distasteful to me, although I know there' s a tradition of it, a la stuffed cabbage leaves. In this recipe, it worked. As a slow cooker recipe, the cabbage was almost indistinguishable. In mine, it was a bit more to the fore front. The raisins were inspired, I feel, although I want to punch the recipe up with some more spice (we added it individually to portions and it really helped) and possibly fresh herbs and wine. Glad we tried it!

Baby quiche

2009-11-06T22:00:00.002-05:00

Here's a quick breakfast...

I took pre-made pie crust (I buy the Wegman's kind. It comes rolled up, two individually wrapped crusts to a box) and cut rounds with the top of a drinking glass. I pushed the rounds gently into the cups of a muffin pan, so that it made a shallow bowl but maintained contact with the sides.

Next I tore slices of swiss cheese into 1"x1" squares and put one in each crust. On top of that, I put about a teaspoon worth of ham, pinched off a mound of deli sliced ham.

In a separate bowl, I beat a couple eggs with a bit of milk, then spooned about two tablespoons of the egg into each quiche cup. Into the oven it went!

In about a half hour, I had a dozen perfectly sized baby quiche. I liked how easy they were and yet how tasty, filling, and fancy looking. They were a hit with Darling Husband and Baby Girl, who had helped make them by virtue of being held on my hip the entire time. Who says you can't cook one handed? Not in my house! I can even crack eggs single handedly-- beat that! :o)

Great timing

2009-10-27T23:13:00.002-04:00

The trick to making dinner appear in a reasonable amount of time is in the planning. Rachael Ray makes 30 minute meals work because she puts the water on to boil first, gets her aromatics chopped and into a pan, preps the rest of her veg and her protein and before you know it, it's all done. (It also helps that she has herbs and other things pre-washed and chopped. Oh, and that bevvy of professional cooking staff of food stylists doesn't hurt...) In this way she can make a multi course meal or two in just a half hour. It seems like a cooler trick than it really is. If I put a little thought into it, I can make the components of a dish come together fairly quickly.

I have watched people burn garlic because they were busy chopping onions. I have seen people do entree, side dish and salad in turn, start to finish. I have witnessed the workings of the kitchen grind to a halt, waiting for water to boil, while other tasks pile up behind like rush hour traffic. I have committed some of these offenses, too. Then, several years ago, I made a 14 course tasting menu for Darling Husband for Valentine's Day. I took the afternoon off of work to do it, and had planned each step down to the letter. I wrote each step out, then ordered them to be sure I didn't suddenly turn to cook a protein that should've gotten a spice rub 30 minutes ago. It was challenging but rewarding and taught me a lot about time management in the kitchen and being realistic about my abilities.

Studies have shown that people don't multi task well. We think we do, but in reality we give diminished attention to each task. I believe this, and yet I don't see how you can cook effectively without it. While my meat is searing, I'm cubing potatoes. While my asparagus are roasting and my catfish is marinating, I'm making the stove top stuffing. While my pasta is cooking, I'm tidying up the kitchen and putting away the leftover cabbage.

I love when the different components of a meal are all finished and waiting, the kitchen is tidyed up, the plates are out to serve, and I can just take a deep breath. The last bit is finishing up cooking and there's nothing to do until it does. It's a very calm moment.

My page a day "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" calender made this observation (paraphrased): our minds are like snow globes. When we rest and do nothing, we allow things to settle down. We are refreshed and ready to shake up the world again, resources renewed. I like the snow globe moments after the flurry of cooking and before the socialness of eating.

Accidently Atkins(ish)

2009-10-22T22:03:00.003-04:00

Made dinner for 1 tonight, as Darling Husband was to get back late and I wasn't up to waiting until midnight to eat.

(Actually, I also made him dinner and made a separate dinner for tomorrow to be just warmed up, but just go with it.)

I decided to let convenience play a role and bought pre-marinated chicken breasts from Wegman's. They claimed to be brown sugar barbecue flavored, but certainly not with barbecue sauce. While I wouldn't have recognized it as such, it did taste very good. I seared it in a pan with a little olive oil over fairly low heat, allowing it to cook and do its thing without rushing it.

This is a new technique for me. Anyone who has gotten food poisoning can understand being a bit gunshy about chicken, and I'm no exception. My mother tends to cook chicken twice just to be sure she's really killing everything. Unfortunately, this can lead to dry, stringy chicken sometimes. And, really, that's not much more fun to eat than the poisoned kind.

This chicken, however, cooked slowly and gently, developed a nicely brown crust but retained all of its moisture. It was phenomenally lean, as well, which was fantastic. I'm a bit fanatical about chicken fat and gristle and I didn't have to reject one mouth full of this.

As an accompaniment, I cut up a Florida avocado. These are the larger, bright green avocados. Most people are familiar with the Haas (which are actually patented and, therefore, grown by grafts to prevent genetic mutation/alteration), but the Florida has a fresher, less intense taste. I would even say there's a watery component, but in a good way. It is less creamy but has a "green" or grassy taste, in a way. I like them. Wouldn't make a good guacamole, as it doesn't have the richness or mouthfeel, but is great sliced.

It also holds up better to bruising. Mine flew across my SUV as I narrowly avoided an accident with a semi truck, hitting my dash and windshield at 40 mph. I thought it would be all bruised to hell and unusable, but remarkably the slightly soft spot didn't turn the whole thing to unusable mush. Not bad!

Avocados, for anyone who is interested, never ripen on the tree. They only mature, but must be picked to ripen. Thus growers can literally store the fruit on the tree for about 7 months. What this does for the tree in a biological/botanical/evolutionary sense, I don't know. It does make it darned convenient, though. Oh, and also? "Avocado" is a European bastardization of the Aztec word for the same fruit. The Spanish thought it sounded much like their word for "lawyer," but the Aztecs word meant "testicle."

Bowl full of comfort

2009-10-17T22:02:00.002-04:00

Meals around here have been a bit bizarre lately, eaten at odd hours and sometimes clubbed together from strange sources. (Which is not to say bad, but maybe a little strange. We had meatballs in marinara over creamy polenta the other day, too. I love crock pot cooking.) That being said, I do have one meal I'd like to discuss.

Fall has arrived with a vengeance; snow even fell on Friday. This is cozy food weather! The other day I made spinach risotto with harvest compote on top.

The risotto was straight forward enough: toast the arborrio, grate in a couple cloves of garlic, add chicken stock gradually, stirring quite often, until rice is cooked but not mush. To this I added a generous amount of parmasan (we ran out of our hunk of parm so I had bought pre-grated shakey cheese instead. I added more to compensate for flavor loss). Just before serving, I wilted in a bunch of baby spinach.

Meanwhile, in another pan, I browned some sage sausage. I removed the sausage, but made sure to leave all the drippings in the pan. In this liquid yum I softened onion and garlic, and then began to cook diced butternut squash. To allow the squash to steam, I popped a lid on it and let it do its thing. The squash softened but didn't fall apart, but something was missing. I added the sausage back to the pan but was still not satisfied. It so happened that I had a surplus of stock in the risotto, so I scooped some out and put it in with the squash mixture. It was a perfect idea! The stock had a lot of the rice starch in it, so within a minute the squash had its own thick, rich gravy.

Darling Husband and I each got a bowl full of risotto with wilted spinach woven through, topped with goey, steamy squash and sausage. For added color and flavor punch, I tossed a handful of craisins and glazed walnuts on top. The flavors were well developed but not terribly complex. The walnuts were sweet and crunchy, the craisins tart and chewy, the squash and sausage very savory, the spinach slightly bitter and the risotto decadently creamy. It was stick to your ribs food and I, for one, adored it.

Anniversary dinner at Mi Scuzi

2009-10-04T21:15:00.006-04:00

For our 5th anniversary, Darling Husband and I decided to try Mi Scuzi, an Italian restaurant in a very unassuming location. It's a converted house near the corner of 26th and Myrtle Streets. Fortunately they have valet parking, as there's not much around. It's a residential area right near Saint Vincent hospital; I wonder where they put the cars. (As a side note, I enjoy handing a standard transmission over to a valet. It's silly, I know, but I feel like they have to reevaluate what they think of me. Plus, I think it's good to hone their driving skills.)

The restaurant was lit with a bunch of white Christmas lights in the bushes and such, which is always fun. There's an awning over the walk ways leading up to the door, which unfortunately was populated by several large, creepy spiders. Gladly, I didn't notice until we were leaving. Ewwwww.

I had a terrible dining experience once at The Crazy Parot, which is at the North East Marina. We were seated outside on the covered porch area and I noticed the ceiling struts were populated with hundreds of big, fat spiders. Darling Husband convinced me to stay and I tried to relax. That is, until I felt a tickle on my neck and swatted away a huge mother of a spider. I remember screaming and jumping up and smacking at myself, then excusing myself to the ladies room to have hysterics. We were reseated inside and I got a huge, ridiculous, blue mixed drink to calm myself. I will never go back there. In addition to the arachnic attack, I remember the meal itself being a bit "eh." It would have to be pretty amazing to get me to go back and it was merely fine.

But back to Mi Scuzi.

Reservations are pretty much a must, and even so it was busy enough that we needed to wait at the bar for our table to be ready. When we made the reservation, the gentleman I spoke to made a point to ask us not to come early due to their business. He wasn't just whistling dixie. The dining area (formerly livingroom type area) was crammed with tables. I'm sure that's because they want to accommodate as many people as possible, but it seemed challenging for the wait staff.

While we didn't have a ton of elbow room, I also didn't feel super crowded. Perhaps that's because we were against a small partition instead of just out in the open. I did have to be careful not to put my chair too far back, lest I trap the woman seated behind me at her table.

We had a coupon for a bottle of wine with the purchase of two entrees. We chose the red, a very pleasant concha y toro blend. They seem to have these coupons a lot and I recommend them. You're already splurging on the meal; it's nice to have a bottle comped.

To begin, we shared a "grilled pizzette" appetizer with caramelized onions, pears, gorgonzola and mozarella. Oh, yummy yum yum yum! It was crusty, sweet and wonderfully gooey. The gorgonzola provided a fantastic bite and kept it from being too sweet. It was so magnificent, we're planning on making something similar for dinner soon just to get to taste it again.

We also shared a salad, which was HUGE. It's a good thing we shared it, because it was not a little side salad. We chose the fennel, arrugula and citrus salad. The fennel was paper thin and in a wonderfully fluffy mound. It was adorned with ribbons of aged provolone, which I thought was a slightly moist parmasean until I looked up the menu to write this. There were supposed to be black mission figs, but the figs we got were golden and round... which was fantastic, but not a black mission fig unless the fresh looks much, much different from the dried. It was drizzled with a raspberry vinaigrette, which was very subtle in flavor but robust in color. The salad also had big slices of orange, which was nice but I feel the execution could have been improved by removing the pith and taking the slices down from 1/2 inch to 1/8th inch. Darling Husband would have preferred the oranges cut into supremes, but we both acknowledge that we're splitting hairs at this point. The salad was refreshing, flavorful and crisp.

For the main course, Darling Husband and I both ordered off the daily special. Unfortunately, they had run out of scallops and so I had to choose another dish. Darling Husband had crusted Chilean sea bass over Parmesan scallion risotto with an anisette cream. I had the cioppino, a traditional Italian pasta dish with various sea foods in a tomato sauce.

Darling Husband's dish was phenomenal. The fish was flaky and had the taste of butter--perhaps butter poached? And yet the outside had a crispy sear to it. Hmmm. The risotto was so decadently rich, I could've cried. There must've been some sort of mascarpone or something in it. It was ridiculously tasty. On top of the fish were shoestrings of zucchini and carrot, just perfect for dragging through the anisette cream. What can we say about the anisette cream? It rocked. I'm at a loss for words.

My cioppino had delicate calamari, not even a little overdone. Perfectly tender. Joining the calamari were huge shrimp, ruffly clams and Sicilian muscles that tasted like the ocean. I ordinarily am not a fan of the thin, almost tomato juice style of sauce. This one, however, changed my mind completely. Much of this probably had to do with the homemade pasta under it. Home made pasta is the sort of thing you think isn't that big of a deal until you have it and realize it really does matter.

It was a fantabulous meal and a wonderful celebration. The very fact that our criticisms were so small is evidence of the level of culinary skill. I don't know who the chef is. The co-owners are Barry Grossman (the one from all the political signs in all the yards) and Rick Scalise. Barry actually seated us and seemed quite the presence in the restaurant, sitting with various diners and sharing their wine, their limoncello or just their company. It seemed their were several tables of regulars. Good for them. We could never afford to be frequent fliers there, but the next big event we need to celebrate, I'm there.

Odd, manly chili

2009-10-02T21:28:00.002-04:00

It's a brrrrr cold day, just right for a pot of chili. At the end of a busy week, a crock pot meal is where it's at. Here's what went into the pot:

Cubed beef
Dark chocolate with cherries and cayenne
Bell pepper (softened in a skillet)
Celery (ditto)
Onion (ditto)
Adobo
Tomato paste
Brown sugar
Red wine
Corn meal
Dried peppers

Smells heavenly... had a little nibble and seared off my taste buds from the temperature. Hope it tastes good!

Meatballs, tiny round loaves

2009-10-01T23:53:00.002-04:00

I've decided meatballs are tiny, spherical meatloaves. Meat spheres. Hmmm.

I made something like three dozen tonight, in order to help out my friend who is recovering from surgery. I'll keep one bag for me (in the freezer) and deliver them after work tomorrow.

Probably everyone has a recipe, but I've actually never made a meat loaf and have somewhat limited meatball experience. I took a page from my mother's book and used packet of dry onion soup mix, and one from my mother-in-law and used crushed Club crackers. An egg to bind and not much else, and before you know it I'm rolling out meaty golf balls.

I baked them for ease, after deciding on the afore mentioned eureka moment of lilliputian loaf concept. This unfortunately made them flat on the bottom, but I guess that won't matter when they're covered in marinara. I hope.

Having made the meatballs, a separate pasta dish for dinner, as well as prepped crock pot chili tomorrow and made lunches, I'm beat!

Cold day, warm soup

2009-09-28T23:15:00.002-04:00

I don't actually like soup very much, but it sounded like just the thing for this blustery day. It also helped me use up some left overs.

Lurking in our freezer were two unloved Smith's Cheddarbest, fantastic sausages left over from a fantastic summer grilling evening. I had taken them down to thaw a couple days ago and hadn't had much of a plan for them.

Also hanging out was the left over potato cauliflower gratin. Ah-ha! I decided to puree the gratin with some milk, hot sauce, salt and pepper (has it been underseasoned this whole time, or was it the puree that made it seem bland?) and call it soup. I browned the sausages in a skillet, cut them into coins and tossed them into the soup. Mmmmmmmmh...

The sausages were a wonderful textural and flavor punctuation to the soup, which was creamy and hearty. I liked particularly the juiciness of the sausage in with a bite of the rest. I felt like this was survival soup. We could eat this after a day of trudging through the snowy forest looking for lost hikers, after reviving ourselves with a brandy. It would stick to ribs, warm the core, fill the belly and cause happy full-tummy sleeps.

As a side note, I've been sleeping much better since the doctor gave me cough syrup with codine in it. Whew! That's potent stuff. Other than strange dreams about roasting tiny lizards on tiny spits, it's incredibly restful.

But back to tonight. Also, in a fit of practicality, I've planned, shopped and prepped a week's worth of meals. Things are labeled and baggied, ready to be sauteed or braised or baked. Ha! I still have meatballs hanging over my head, though. Not literally, of course. A good friend had surgery today and I wanted to bring over some meatballs later in the week. She and her husband are a bit picky, so quiche, lasagna and casserole were all out. I decided to make meatballs and freeze them individually, and bring both gravy and marinara (for the swedish meatball type dish or the italian) to give them variety and choice. I now have all the ingredients, but didn't have time tonight. Cold weather saps my energy. Cold weather and a 14 month old, that is.

I got a bunch of ground beef with the intention of making meatballs for myself, too. I kinda wish I had one of those small, spring loaded ice creams scoops for helping me portion these things out. Meatball uniformity is a problem for me. They start normal but then get bigger and bigger and bigger. Then I overcorrect and make them too small. This doesn't make for even cooking time across the dish. Oh well, I'll just do my best!

Calling steelhead fishermen

2009-09-27T22:34:00.008-04:00

Holy cow, this is what you all have been pulling from the waterways around here? Well, why didn't you say so?!

We found this beautiful steelhead trout fillet at Sam's Club and couldn't resist. The color is like salmon. Plus, $6 for a big piece is a really good price. We decided to go for it and I am so glad we did!

I made a kind of mojo in which to marinate the fish. The zest of an orange and its juice as well, sambol olek, fresh parsley, basil and oregano. I added a tiny pinch of salt, too, to round out the flavors. I didn't have much time to marinate--maybe 15 minutes while I prepped the rest of the meal.

Citrus with fish, of course, can make a ceviche. People go on and on about how ceviche isn't raw because the acid in the citrus "cooks" the fish. This makes me crazy. Of course it's still raw, people! Did you apply heat? No! Darling Husband informs me it's a similar chemical process to cooking. However, when people say they're skeeved about eating raw fish, I find it misleading to tell them not to worry because it's cooked, really.

But I digress. The rest of the meal was wild rice (a mix, from a box) and baked acorn squash. I seasoned the squash with cayenne, chilli pepper, moroccan spice and pepper, then crusted brown sugar and topped with a pat of butter.

I fried the fish in some more butter, allowing it to get a nice crust on the one side. I had removed the skin with a fillet knife. Fish skin really, really grosses me out. Fortunately it's a snap to remove.

You make a small cut at the tail end, through the flesh but not the skin. This gives you a handle to hold on to. You place your knife facing away from you, just at the place where the skin meets the flesh and sort of pull the skin/push the knife/gently sweep the blade in arcs. It's quite impressive but really simple to do.

The fish was wonderful, firmly textured, very flavorful and not at all fishy. I was a bit proud of the fresh tastes of the marinade, too, and the nice herbal pop.

Now we must befriend steelhead fishermen to hook us up with more.

Comfortable cabbage

2009-09-24T21:28:00.003-04:00

Sometimes some pretty wonderful dishes come together without much thought. We had fennel that we needed to use, but hadn't fully decided on how. We almost did a fennel and orange salad (a classical pairing) but decided we needed a main course instead.

Fennel to me goes well with sausage, as it is often a flavoring in sausage. So first, I browned some sage flavored sausage. Then I removed it from the pan and used the drippings to saute some onion (always a good bet) and the fennel, which Darling Husband sliced on the mandolin.

A note of caution about the mandolin: it is a wonderful tool, but all too easily it lulls you into a false sense of security. Always use the guard!! Pampered Chef actually makes one that you can't use without the guard. Maybe the design people at PC heard about my sister slicing off the tip of her finger making eggplant parm. Perhaps they, like me, have the image of her fingertip laying on the cutting board permanently seared into their cerebral mash. Or, maybe their lawyers just thought it was smart.

Back to the dish. We needed something to bulk up the dish and cut the assertiveness of the fennel, which could get old if overused. In went sliced cabbage. To help it all braise (though it was softening nicely) I added a bit of chicken stock. Meanwhile, I made little radiator style pasta in some more chicken broth, in order to impart as much flavor as possible. Combined with the cabbage/sausage/fennel mixture, the radiators had just the right amount of toothiness, with nooks and crannies galore. Excellent mouth feel. Warm, cozy, flavorful and fall like.

Ah, but I almost forgot about the cauliflower! I did, actually, make my cauliflower and potato gratin, on the previous evening. It was very nice, although my potatoes were a bit toothier than I might have wanted them to be (i.e., I undercooked them). I used a layer of club crackers for a crust, which I quite enjoyed. My mother also got cauliflower and has yet to fully plumb its culinary usefulness, as it's still sitting in her fridge. They were 2/$5 at Wegman's; the only proper course of action is to pick the biggest one so you're getting your money's worth. In this case, each head seemed bigger than the next. The one I picked seemed robust and I was pleased with it. It made a gigantic amount of cheesy veggie fun, so we're eating it for lunches.

Update for the curious

2009-09-20T21:35:00.002-04:00

Still haven't made the cauliflour. Did get around to parboiling it, though... Got some sort of lurgy, a malaise, a plague that involves coughing until incontinence threatens and I can't catch my breath.

You're welcome for sharing.

Didn't even eat dinner last night, let alone cook. I had higher hopes for tonight but Baby Girl had other plans. Tomorrow? Hmmm... better cook 'em or freeze 'em! Wish me luck.

Late night dinners

2009-09-18T21:04:00.002-04:00

Growing up, dinner was at 7pm and we all ate together. If you were going to be late (for a good reason... like maybe a piano lesson or something) we generally held dinner until we were all there. If my dad got caught up mowing the lawn, dinner would sometimes be very late. When I was little little, I'm sure I got mine earlier, but I just remember how very important it was.

Now, Darling Husband and I always eat dinner together, but Baby Girl often gets hers early. Partially because she needs to be going to bed early and partially because she's not big on table food or, well, letting me cook. (She's very into bananas, yogurt, bread, graham crackers, corn on the cob and those little fruit cups of peaches. She puts up with other things.) Darling Husband doesn't get home until six at best, which really pushes things back. We usually eat after she's in bed.

That being said, lately dinner here is unusually late. Darling Husband is in a play in a neighboring town, about 45 minutes away. This isn't as odd as it seems, as he works in that town and commutes daily. But it does mean that there isn't time for him to come home between work and rehearsal. This is the third night this week where we're not seeing him until after 10pm. Whew! I'm trying to be creative about meals. We had chicken patty parmasean sandwiches one night, meatloaf and mashed potatoes another. Tonight we were to have cauliflower and potato gratin. I haven't made it yet.

Part of the reason is I am sniffy and coughing and tired. Part of the reason is I took Baby Girl to the playground and we both got worn out. Part of the reason is Baby Girl chose tonight for her first real temper tantrum, and it took more out of me than the other parts combined.

I don't know if I'll get around to it. The cauliflower is already prepped, but I need to parboil it along with the potatoes (which aren't prepped). Then I'll make a cheesy bechamel and put it all into a casserole with crumbled club crackers on top. Into the oven it will go.

Ugh, it sounds so good but I am seriously wishing for a magic wand right now. Who knows? It might be lunch tomorrow instead.

Last night, Darling Husband made delicatta squash ravioli in a walnut sage brown butter. From scratch. Oh, it was heavenly! He used wonton wrappers for the ravioli, which makes a nicely light pasta. After roasting the delicatta, he pureed it with garlic (don't know what else) and spooned it onto a wonton. Before the top wonton was sealed on with egg wash, he put a pinch of asiago cheese. He served it with a fresh wine and cheese sausage, which he grilled. Needless to say, we didn't have any leftovers.

Vegan meat sauce

2009-09-14T21:03:00.002-04:00

We accidentally made an amazing vegan meat sauce the other day. How does one accidentally make sauce? That's where happy accidents come in. I'd love to say I planned it out, but I actually only meant to make a fresh, summery marinara to serve over angel hair.

I started off with a miropoix, cooked until brown and caramelized and wonderful. I learned this trick from Anne Burrell on her show, Secrets of a Restraunt Chef. She kinda bothers me, but she has good tips, too. (I like her better when she's soux cheffing on Iron Chef). It adds amazing depth to almost anything, in particular tomato sauces. To this we added fresh tomatoes, skinned, seeded and chopped.

I follow the tried and true canning trick to remove tomato skins. You score an X on the tomato bottom then drop it into boiling water for about 20 or 30 seconds, then plunge into ice water. By the time you get a few into the water, the skins are loose enough to come off with barely any effort. Apparently this works with peaches, too, but I've never tried it.

Anyway, as we were doing all this with the tomatoes, the ones in the pan cooked down a bit further than we wanted them to. We added red wine to deglaze and to add liquid. Long story short, the sauce was almost burgundy dark, incredibly complex and wonderfully rich. It almost seemed unctuous, though there wasn't any meat at all. We threw it a bunch of fresh oregano and basil, and that helped to bring it a bit further towards the fresh. It was more of a fall dish than intended, but it was frankly incredible. :o) Serendipity in the kitchen.

The Breakfast Place

2009-09-13T21:55:00.002-04:00

Today we went for Sunday breakfast at a new place. Well, it's new to us. I'm not sure how long it's been there, but it seems to be where it's at, a hip and happening joint.

The Breakfast Place is on the East side, just off the Bayfront at 38th and McClelland. It shares a parking lot with Nunzi's. A friend of ours told us about it, but warned us that the line can be out the door at times. They weren't kidding! We waited maybe 5 minutes or so for a table to be cleaned, but just after we got there the line did indeed go out the door. There's no giving your name and sitting outside, either. It's "Please Wait Here to be Seated" and they're not joking.

Who wants breakfast? Well, families do. Older folks do. Drunk people do after the bars close... so The Breakfast Place is open during the week from 5:30am to 1pm, and on the weekend from 11pm until 1pm (2pm on Sundays). I think this is brilliant. A gentleman in line behind us said he plows snow and in the winter he's going to come here when his shift is over to warm up.

Speaking of which, the coffee is really tasty and the wait staff (all women that I saw) are always circling with pots of it. There's a diner counter area and one large seating room. The walls are covered with sports themed pictures, including some local stuff, but not nearly as kitchy as TGI Friday's or Applebee's. It's a bit old fashioned, but very comforting. It's not trying to be trendy or edgy or avant garde or anything. It's just trying to serve good, wholesome food at really good prices.

The menu is pretty straight forward; they have breakfast, obviously. The only non-breakfast items I saw were under the category "Breakfast Munchies" and included greek dogs, greek fries, and six packs of greek dogs or burgers to go. The rest of the menu was omelets, combo platters, side items, and breakfast sandwiches. I was really tempted by the grilled corned beef hash, but went instead for the fritatta. It was a three egg scrambled omelet with sausage, potatoes, onion, peppers, mushrooms, mozzarella and banana pepper rings. With toast. Whew! It was huge! The menu offered a half portion, but I was pretty hungry and decided to go for it. Well, Baby Girl excitedly helped me eat it and we still only made it through half! It was delicious, with very finely crumbled sausage insinuating itself throughout every bite. The eggs were mostly there as a binder, as there was way too much "stuff" to be contained. Banana peppers, an interesting choice, provided a nice, bright, sour note that offset the sweet flavors of the caramelized onions and peppers well.

Darling Husband opted for the Italian French Toast, made with dense Italian bread and served with eggs. He loved how well executed it was, with the chewy crust and moist, custardy center which, nevertheless, was not soggy. I managed to snag a bite before he happily gobbled it all up and I can attest it was darned good french toast.

Baby Girl, I must mention, had french toast sticks. This was the first time we've ordered off the menu for her at a restaurant. She loved them! I snuck a bite and they were pretty good. I think they might even have been homemade, considering the variation in size and shape. It was especially nice that they put a rush on her order so she could happily chow down while we sipped coffee and waited patiently.

And because I am her mother I must take a moment to brag. When our meal was just about finished, an older couple sitting next to us got up to leave. The gentleman made a point of coming by and complimenting us on Baby Girl's behavior, adding that she's one sweet, good little girl we've got there. That's particularly great to hear because we found two molars poking out today and she can't have been feeling too hot. On the plus side, there were lots of people ready to smile at her and wave, so she was pretty occupied.

Everyone was friendly. Most of the waitresses were young and wearing tie dyed shirts with markered on logos of The Breakfast Place, made to look a bit like team shirts for a sport. Was this because football season just kicked off? I don't know. I was impressed by the one girl's star tatoos up the inside of her forearm. Our actual waitress was "of a certain age" and looked just like you'd imagine a career diner waitress to be. She had on a plain t-shirt with the restaurant's name on it. Despite the line literally 6 feet from us, we never once felt rushed or hurried along. The staff was welcoming and accommodating, the food served hot and in a timely fashion.

I whole heartedly recommend trying out this breakfast spot. What's that, you say? You'd rather have a meatball omelet from that other famous after-bar breakfast place? Well, this breakfast spot has a meatball omelet, too.

Posting hiatus

2009-09-12T23:23:00.002-04:00

You might think, if I'm not posting, I'm neither cooking nor eating. You'd be wrong. You might think I'm sick or super busy. Nope, not that, either. I'm even making interesting things; I just haven't much felt like blogging.

Sorry, all you loyal readers. I guess I'm in a little slump... blogs are not the place for self pity.

Wait.

Actually, to be more accurate, this blog isn't the place for self pity. So I won't moan on, but instead I will vow to make more of an effort to blog. I enjoy it, you see. And while I haven't gotten many comments in a while, I believe others enjoy it, too.

Tonight, we made buffalo shrimp salad. We had buffalo flavored shrimp for the first time at Joe Root's Grill, and realized instantly that this was brilliant. Why everyone doesn't do this is beyond us, except (like us) it probably just hadn't occurred to them. We make a home made version by buying popcorn shrimp frozen, baking them, then tossing in wing sauce. Tonight, we also made shoe string fries and put both of those over a bed of baby romaine mix lettuces. We studded the salad with yellow pear tomatoes from our garden and crisp slices of local cucumber. Shredded cheddar and big croutons rounded out the dish. Darling Husband squeezed blue cheese dressing on his; I had ranch. A nice, refreshing dish after a long but fun day.

Did you know they had a petting zoo at Frontier Park today? Baby Girl got a pony ride and pet a pig.

The capers made it.

2009-09-06T23:12:00.004-04:00

Tonight we made tuna burgers. To paraphrase Guy Fieri, a tuna cake is tiny but a tuna burger is huge! We put combined canned tuna, capers (yay!), freshly shredded parmasean, crumbled club crackers, an egg, salt and pepper (of course) and some mayo. Then we shaped the mixture into patties. We fried these in a pan and served on toasted buns with a spicy aioli and finely chopped scallions.

I think I mentioned I'm letting myself make mayonnaise based sauces here and there. For a long time, I avoided them because Darling Husband was very against them. I decided somewhat recently that he doesn't have to eat them, but I can enjoy them all the same. Tonight's was made with a thai chili pepper from the garden and some white balsamic vinegar added to the mayo. It was thin, tangy, spicy and briny tasting. It made a nice counterpoint to the tuna, I felt. I did get one bite with way too much spice in it--but that's the nature of the beast!

I really enjoyed the burgers, particularly the crunchy crust from letting them in the pan for a while. It was a nice texture counterpoint to the fairly creamy burger. The capers were fantastic, salty little pockets of flavor studded throughout. Great job to Darling Husband for thinking of them. They were actually best when they were on the very outside and got fried themselves. What a cool garnish that would be for something!

Capers are just cool little things. They are the pickled buds of the caper bush, which I understand to be a prickly thing which produces beautiful flowers (see picture) as well as fruit called caper berries. My father puts pickled caper berries in his martinis sometimes. The taste of capers reminds me of steak tartare as a child.

Making these burgers again, I'd probably add some fresh greens to the sandwich, such as bibb lettuce. I might also add some fresh herbs to the patties, and make sure they're not too thick so as to preserve the crunchy crust to soft middle ratio.

Gumbo, a taste of the bayou

2009-09-03T22:48:00.002-04:00

I have no way of knowing how authentic our gumbo is, so I don't really care. In fact, our gumbo tastes different from itself, even. All I know is our gumbo is good.

Tonight darling husband whipped up a weeknight version. He made a roux with butter, which made wonderful popcorn smells through the house. As this is New Orleans cuisine, he used trinity instead of mirepoix (onion, celery and bell pepper as opposed to onion, celery and carrot) and garlic, of course. Chicken thighs, andouille sausage, jalepeno and okra, of course. He also used seafood stock, which was a wonderful addition. From the spice cabinet came a couple of bay leaves, salt and pepper and some file powder.

It bubbled away, looking like primordial lava, but didn't thicken as much as we expected. No matter. It was more soupy than stewy, which allowed plenty of broth to drink or to be soaked up in hunks of stale baguette. Very comforting and filling. Thanks for dinner, honey!

Feeling better food

2009-09-03T13:09:00.001-04:00

I think it's neat that everyone's mom makes them special things for when they're sick. But does everyone's mom make the same thing? My mom and my mother in law both make people noodles with a little sprinkle cheese. That's for the I'm-feeling-some-better-but-I'm-not-sure-what-would-be-good-for-dinner dinner. Is this universal?

Here are ones I can think of:

Mint tea for almost everything, but especially tummy upsets.
Flat coke for nausea.
Ginger ale for nausea.
Noodles with sprinkle cheese.
A hardboiled egg, mashed with a fork, with a little toast.

My mom has been known to make ginger tea out of fresh ginger peels. It's strong and bitey, but tasty and soothing. My family makes tea as a kind of panacea, actually. Mint tea especially. You have an upset stomach? Mint tea. Sore throat? Mint tea. Sinus infection? Severed limb? Plague? Mint tea.

Emotional problems get mint tea, too. I guess it's less what's being given and more that it's your mom who's giving it. I wonder what my daughter will grow up thinking is feel better food?

My silly mum

2009-09-02T21:21:00.003-04:00

My mom is an awesome cook. All her friends know it, all the family. People comment on it all the time. There are probably aliens on Neptune who are jonesing for an invite. Even she knows it, but she is too modest to let herself remember sometimes. My father has often commented that eating out isn't much of a treat for him, as he eats better at home than he would out. This is a pretty cool compliment, but an accurate one.

Imagine my surprise tonight when my mom confessed that she hesitates to invite me to dinner now that she reads my blog. "I don't cook all gourmet like you do. I just use simple things," she protested. I was surprised and a little sad, because I love eating dinner there and I wouldn't ever want her to feel bad about herself or her hostess skills.

She is the ultimate hostess. She always makes too much food, and it's always so fabulous. She makes sure to account for people's tastes and sensitivities, and makes sure people feel welcomed and at home. Food brings people together, and my mother is the master at this.

I remember reading something Tony Bourdain wrote in A Cook's Tour about what chefs crave. Apparently, chefs play "what would you choose for your last meal?" type games a lot. His point was that each of these chefs, with access to all kinds of foodie frippery, chose something simple. A greasy cheeseburger. A slice of foie gras perfectly seared. A hunk of fresh, crusty bread with a little marrow and a bit of sea salt. (I said simple, not necessarily un-lavish) He said not one of them listed the tasting menu off some posh restaurant.

Do we always cook fancy? No. I might not blog about those nights so much, although I think I do a pretty good job of balancing it out. Darling Husband and I enjoy cooking, coming up with new tastes and experimenting with new ingredients. It's a hobby.

Besides, what's so wrong with simple? I think the simple things are sometimes harder to do well. Rocco DiSpirito espouses this, and I agree. If you're making chili, you can hide imperfections. Lots of tastes and textures can be like a magician's show, distracting your attention from the undesirable. Or, if you like, like a symphonic orchestra. The fifth violin in the section can miss a note or two or, even, stop playing a bit and you wouldn't necessarily hear it. If the soloist does it, or part of a trio, it's much more noticeable. Actually, there's a well worn culinary joke that says the same thing; roughly, that anything tastes good with the right sauce.

My mom does simple well and she does complicated well. She doesn't need to hide it in a sauce, but the sauces she makes kick ass.

For dinner tonight, my mom made artichokes with garlic aioli, grilled chicken marinated in lemon juice and tarragon and fresh beans from her garden. Super fancy? No. Super tasty? Yes. Simple? Maybe, but then again I wouldn't have thought of it that way. The chicken had wonderful brightness and depth (must've marinated a long time), the beans still had the snap of freshness but tenderness as well. The artichokes, a favorite of mine, were not at all water logged (as can so easily happen) and tasted sweet and tender. Her aioli was not harsh, as mine can be, but wonderfully balanced. We also had corn bread from Wegman's, bought my my father and consumed happily by Baby Girl as well as us.

I may be in big trouble for writing this without first letting mom know, but I should be in bigger trouble if I get too big for my britches. I still have a ton to learn from her, in the kitchen and out. (Remember when I made the chicken soup? I texted her to find out how to do it...) I love you, mom. Please keep inviting me to dinner. :o)

The amazing dishes gnomes

2009-08-31T22:53:00.002-04:00

I'm not sure how we did it, but we managed to make dinner and only have our plates as dirty dishes. Weird!

It was nacho night here, and we went for straight forward: tortilla chips, taco flavored beef, shredded cheese, salsa, olives, guacamole and lettuce. The only pan was the one we did the beef in, and I washed that as we were still plating. It was so easy I forgot I even did it!

Hmmm... dinner that took 7 minutes to make and 20 seconds to clean up? It's a miracle!!

Ethnic ingredients, home cookin'

2009-08-30T22:57:00.002-04:00

Dinner tonight was a delight of colors and odd ingredients. It worked, and it was great, but didn't exactly have much of a unifying theme. Or, did it?

We made flank steak, marinated in harissa. (I was inspired by the Next Food Network Star who didn't win, and we found it in a little Asian grocery in Pittsburgh's strip district.) Harissa is a paste used in north African and related areas, such as Morocco and Algeria. We got a little can of it, which was covered in beautiful Arabic script but stated it was a product of France. The ingredients can vary, but ours listed, "beets, carrot, water, chilli, vegetable oil, sweetcorn starch, coriander, caraway, citric acid and garlic." Mmmmh. Just the smell was wonderful. I wish I had had the time to let the steak marinate all day, as I felt cheated that the flavor only stayed on the surface.

Our starch was Israeli cous cous, which is much larger than the cous cous one normally encounters. I got it as a recommended substitute for fregula, a Sardinian pasta. Regular cous cous is as fine as sand; Israeli cous cous is more like the little round pastas you find in soup sometimes. About the size of a lentil half. The flavor of Israeli cous cous is a bit toasty or slightly nutty, as it is generally toasted and regular cous cous is not. I made the cous cous just in water, not thinking to flavor it right away, but was pleased by the depth of flavor it had anyway. All this from flour and water! I added diced, dried apricot and sliced almonds.

As a side or accompaniment, we made an heirloom tomato caprese salad. Our tiny currant tomatoes are amazingly tight and sweet, popping in the mouth with wonderful snap. The yellow pears are mild and flavorful and the black cherry tomato had a deep flavor. Heirloom tomatoes. All the rage for a reason. We tossed these with basil, white balsamic, salt, pepper, olive oil and little marble sized mozzarella.

So, what was our meal direction? Yummy! Multi-ethnic and not too worried about it.

Loooooooooong long beans

2009-08-29T23:09:00.004-04:00

Long beans are an asian veggie often compared to okra. Raw, they looked like medussa's ponytail. A bit rough, a bit tough, a bit, well, snakey.

We made them into a stir fry with water chestnuts, baby corn, bamboo shoots and dried chilis in oyster sauce. Long beans have a nutty flavor and are quite tough when not cooked enough. This isn't the sort of thing to blanche; I liked them best when they were really, really cooked. I steamed them in the pan as well as stir frying them.

Eating them was another story... You can see how long the bean stretches from chopstick to plate!

My bountiful harvest

2009-08-29T22:54:00.004-04:00

Currant tomatoes, yellow pear tomatoes, black cherry tomatoes, thai chilis and jalepenos all from our garden. Two zucchini and two cucumbers are still growing, as well as more tomatoes and peppers. Whoo-hoo!

Strip district

2009-08-24T21:13:00.006-04:00

We had a wonderful excursion to the strip district in Pittsburgh this weekend while visiting Darling Husband's parents. They decided to take the morning to play with Baby Girl (we're pretty sure they actually invite her, and we're just the drivers) and so we had time together to brave the packed sidewalks and cool back alley shops. It's not a place I'd want to take her, but plenty of parents had their little ones in tow.

The shops were pretty awesome, packed with the weirdest stuff you just can't find other places. Don't get me wrong, for day to day I'd still prefer Wegman's. But this is a cool treat.

We went into a Chinese grocery that had everything from canned quail eggs to dried cuttlefish. There was fresh tofu, which had obviously just been made, cut and on a board so people could pick and bag their own pieces. We found a whole section of dried seafood, including squid and octopus, as well as what can only be described as jellyfish jerky. There were multiple offerings of preserved duck eggs, the kind that they bury in the ground and call Thousand Year Eggs. (The whites become a creepy grey and the yolks a worrying shade of brown.) It also sold all kinds of noodles made from all kinds of stuff. There were big sheets of green bean starch and dried lotus leaves. They also had a big section of fresh veggies--we couldn't resist the long beans! (Or the black vinegar, or the dried chili plums, or the frozen galangal...) On ice, they carried fresh fish. But why buy fish there, when right next door is Wholey's?

I was very excited to see Wholey's, the fish market. I could go on and on about all the many fresh fish, the sushi bar just feet away, the cool everything. I will restrain myself, though, and just talk about the tanks of live fish. I mean, it just doesn't get fresher. Ever wonder what tilapia look like? They're actually kinda cute. They look like aquarium fish, actually. With big kissy lips. My mom always says tilapia is "very mild, no bones." I used to think of this whenever I saw tilapia fillets. I now will think of this:

We found harissa at this Mediterranean store, as well as something I hesitate to even mention. Darling Husband has an insatiable curiosity for foreign drinks, which has led some interesting places. This time it picked up yogurt soda. Mint flavored yogurt soda. In case you're wondering, no, it's not better than it sounds. It's exactly what it sounds like. The ingredients are milk, yogurt, soda water, mint and salt. And that's what it is. Salty, tangy, carbonated dairy with medicinal mint flavoring. It's upsetting and sour. It made us want to gag. Sorry; you should know I'm editing out what I really think of it. I have a terrible analogy that really fits but that grosses me out and is entirely too crude. It's not good. Let's leave it there.

On a positive note, we went to Penzy's Spices. It's a playground of herbs and spices and it smells awesome. We were tempted by the vindaloo powder (incredibly intense and flavorful curry) but the price was a bit too dear. We settled instead for a few varieties of dried chili peppers.

Can't wait to go back!

The wonderful thing about jerk sauce...

2009-08-20T22:29:00.002-04:00

...is jerk sauce is a wonderful thing!

The not-so-wonderful thing is it has a tendency to look a bit brownish grey and dirt like. It makes it hard to see when my shrimp are nicely pink and opaque in the pan. Still, this is a pretty minor point when you balance it against the yum that happens. I'm happy to have had some left over. I had chopped large diagonals of scallions--scallions so thick they looked more like little leeks than anything. They must've been as big around as my ring fingers. I don't know if that changes the flavor any; I would think it should, but I haven't noticed it.

We served the shrimp on top of basmati rice, cooked in chicken stock and mixed with edemame and diced mango. Darling Husband brought grilled pineapple from Wegman's that had been brushed with a sweet chili sauce. It was wonderful! I loved the carmelization, the sweet and the heat. Fantastic.

So it was a pretty great dinner, all around.

What would Brian Boitano make?

2009-08-19T22:22:00.004-04:00

This is a new show coming out on Food Network. No joke; that's the real title. It premiers Sunday at 1pm.

It's a reference, of course, to South Park. In their very first incarnation, on an ecard for Christmas that Matt Stone and Trey Parker created for their friends and relatives, the boys of South Park ask themselves, "what would Brian Boitano do?" At which point, a very flamboyant cartoon Brian B skates around saying "Bye-eee" and other such stuff, after giving his advice. When they did the movie, there's a whole musical number on this theme, as a throw back to their early days.

I think it's cool that he's embraced it, and reclaimed it as his own. Supposedly he's a good cook as well as being fun and slightly irreverent. And, there's no getting around it, flamboyant in a campy way. At least, that's how the previews make it seem. I'm interested in checking it out. Could be great, could be ridiculous... and those are not necessarily mutually exclusive. :o)

Cowboy Fish

2009-08-18T22:26:00.002-04:00

Anyone else thinking about a rockin' underwater rodeo?

No?

Uh, yeah. Me neither...

Tonight I made a quick meal in light of both the heat of August and the fact that Baby Girl now has a cough keeping her up at night. Plus, for some reason, she decided 2 am might be a good time to play and tried to open her door and walk into the hall. She was mightily ticked that I stopped her and insisted she try to lay her head. The little squall lasted only a minute, though, before she dutifully snuggled up again to sleep. It was almost like she was just checking her options.

For side dishes, I made frozen peas and also stuffing from a box. Okay, so it's not so much haute cuisine, but it was tasty and represented appropriate food groups. Everything we eat will not be gourmet and that's a life lesson, in it's way. Who are we to turn up our noses at nourishment, when so many in this world go hungry? Besides being tasty and relatively healthy, it was also cheap. 79 cents for the peas, $1.10 for the stuffing and there's left overs of both. I refuse to apologize because I have nothing to apologize for, and yet I feel as though I'm confessing to something culinarily shameful, like liking really cheap Arbor Mist Blackberry Merlot. Maybe the difference is I recognize this food for what it is. I'm not thinking all spaghetti should taste like Chef Boyardee and turning up my nose at nona's marinara. Or believing that good merlot is cloying and flavored with blackberry syrup (or whatever the Arbor Mist people do. I won't knock it completely--I drank this in college for a semester until I discovered Bully Hill Love Goat Red. I've moved on from there, but still).

The protein was cod that I wrapped in bacon and crisped in a pan. I made a dry rub with cracked black pepper, cayenne, brown sugar and a spice mix called Citrus Basil (from Pampered Chef). Once I had removed the fish (bacon mostly crispy, definitely not soggy) I made a quick pan sauce. I deglazed with a little chicken stock from the fridge, then added cayenne, pepper and about a teaspoon of barbecue sauce, for smokiness. I let it reduce, then mounted the sauce with a bit of butter. Quick, inexpensive, flavorful and rather masculine, for fish. Sort of a cowboy fish dish.

Yee-haw, y'all...

My supportive family eats my burgers

2009-08-16T22:59:00.002-04:00

Though Sutter Home did not pick me as a finalist in their Build a Better Burger competition, I'm pleased that my parents, sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew joined Darling Husband, Baby Girl and I for a picnic to try my burgers. Sister Dear brought chips and fruit, my mom brought drinks and plates (etc) and we brought the aforementioned burgers and also sweet potato fries.

We picnicked at Presque Isle, near the boat launch/marina. Despite my vague directions, my sister managed to find the place, which overlooks the bay and the city while giving a great view of boats passing by. Keeping Baby Girl away from the water was another story. She's my water baby, born under the astrological sign cancer the crab, and has no fear. We went swimming this morning, actually. My little fish...

Burgers with lime zest, homemade jerk sauce (with rum), baby arrugula, sharp cheddar and a slaw made from jicama, carrots and golden raisins. I wanted to put sliced mango, but the only mangos I could find were rock hard. I bought the softest, and it was still way too underripe to use. Oh well. The burgers were well received. My brother-in-law was particularly taken with the lime in it, which I felt was quite sophisticated of his palate to notice. Everyone else just made yummy, appreciative noises and comments. I'm very pleased they liked them. I bet the Sutter Home people would have loved them, too. Probably they had some pretty amazing submissions.

Of course, it's possible I was disqualified because I did something silly like put an ingredient in the wrong order. The ingredient list and the narrative step by step must match exactly, you see. So if you have buns listed before butter and you write, "butter the buns," you're out. You'd need to put "coat the buns with butter," or some such.

I invite anyone who ate one of my burgers tonight to post a comment describing them, or just commenting in general on the picnic. I had a remarkably peaceful time, considering I was keeping track of a slightly clingy Baby Girl in addition to plating up burgers. In 90 some degrees. Darling Husband was a great help and marvy grill guy, and mom, sister and the kids ran interference nicely with Baby Girl. Plus, there was a lovely breeze and I got to sit in a camp chair with my little girl on my lap and watch the bay while she drank a bottle and lightly dozed. Surrounded by my family, with a full belly. I felt very blessed. It was blissful.

A very Darling Husband sort of dish

2009-08-14T22:24:00.003-04:00

There are certain sauces, certain taste and texture combinations that would just never occur to me, but which leap to the foreground for Darling Husband. In many ways, that's what makes our Chopped challenges so rewarding and fun. If we thought exactly the same, it wouldn't be very surprising or interesting.

I wish I could explain more of what I mean, but all I can really say is that these dishes just scream out Darling Husband's name. Tonight's fantastic pasta dish is an excellent example.

First he softened and sweated vidalia onion, to which he added microplaned garlic and tomato paste. For spice, he added salt, pepper and crushed red pepper flakes. Not long after, in went diced sundried tomatoes. Once all these items became toasty and had released their oils, he deglazed the pan with some chicken stock. It was bubbly and thick, but light colored and so very pretty.

When the penne he was boiling was perfectly toothsome, he threw raw baby spinach on top of his sauce and topped with the pasta. The heat wilted the spinach, but only just. All of this was tossed with the last of the shmear casse.

The result? Brilliant! Chewy, hearty penne hugged by a there-but-not-there sauce, dancing with the sweet onion, swirled with vivid green spinach leaves, punctuated by chewy nuggets of sundried tomato bursting with dark flavor. It was inexplicably creamy and utterly utterly, as the British would say at the dawning of King George V's reign. (That Queen Mary, what a doll. 1911, don't cha know. Record heat wave. Churchill making a name for himself already. Jam workers went on strike and everything. Railway workers, too. No, it's true. Read a book on it, I did. A whole book, just on the summer of 1911 in London, non-fiction. Read it twice, point of fact. Sounds esoteric, and it was, but bloody interesting...)

Sorry. I'm not entirely sure why I came over all British in the last paragraph. Perhaps it's my inner Anglophile struggling for release. Maybe it's all the British books I read or the cheeky British comedians I watch (Eddie Izzard and Russel Brand are my go-to good-mood people). Maybe it's the beginnings of a nervous breakdown. Who can tell? When Baby Girl is teething kind of crankily and getting over a cold, poor lamb, and my car breaks down and makes me want to kick it, and it's the end of a long week... I simply remember my favorite things...

Duck fat and basil and freshly cooked pasta,
Almonds and yogurt and sundried tomatoes,
Big pretty scallops all seared with a crust,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Mangoes and crackers and fresh avocado,
Pinot and vodka and nice dry hard cider,
Warm piece of baguette that's smeared with some brie,
These are a few of my favorite things!

When my car dies,
When my kid cries,
When I'm feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things
and then I don't feel so bad!

The perfect sear

2009-08-12T22:26:00.002-04:00

Scallops surrounding a colorful bed of young lettuces, studded with kelly green edemame and lemony yellow tomatoes, nestled with rainbows of red onion. This was dinner. With a second course of sweet potato fries, unlovely but darned tasty. Fast, healthy and colorful. Yay!

I have always loved scallops, although I know some people don't. Personally, I think most of these people have just had overcooked, rubbery scallops (in much the same way that people are ruined on calamari). I have what I consider to be the perfect way to get a perfect sear, which is the perfect way to eat them (in my humble opinion.)

Dry the scallops of excess moisture. Dust in searing flour, a very finely milled flour. Heat olive oil in the pan until shimmery and just before smoking. Lay scallops in, being sure not to crowd the pan; don't move them. Allow them to form a crust and cook about a third to half way up. Flip, cook only until they color on that side. Remove immediately. Yes, they're underdone. They will finish cooking on the plate due to carryover cooking.

Properly seared scallops have a crispy crust, soft, pillow like interior with sweet, yielding flesh. They should not be chewy or in any way resemble a bouncy ball. We like them sitting on top of risotto, by a salad or with pasta, although there are many many uses for them. My mother marinates in soy and then pan fries without the searing flour--wonderful as well.

A quick note on sweet potato fries: this is one side dish that is tasty, healthy and quick, and yet hearty and decadent. We peel our sweet potato and cut into long, even fingers. Toss in olive oil with salt, chili powder and nutmeg. Then we pop them in the oven at 400 degrees for maybe 15 or 20 minutes. The fries become soft and the natural sugars slightly caramelize, with the spice enhancing this without overpowering it. We aren't afraid to mop up the extra olive oil with the fries--or even bread. It's wonderful tasting, having become infused with the spices and the potato flavor, too!

Dinner burn out

2009-08-11T22:53:00.002-04:00

Some days are just emotionally exhausting, let alone when the physical side catches up to you, running you down. Sometimes, the prospect of cooking is almost too much to bear.

Though I had gone shopping for dinner, I wasn't sure I was up to actually making it. We considered grabbing a Hot Pizza Now, but I finally mustered the courage to assemble my humble ingredients.

Freshly baked buns, french bread style
Chicken nuggets
Wing Sauce (Frank's, but not just Red Hot. Actual wing sauce)
Gorgonzola crumbles
Leftover blue cheese dressing in containers from the last time we got wings

I baked the nuggets, tossed them in sauce, put them into the buns (which I split) and topped with the cheese crumbles. Darling Husband and I dipped our Buffalo Chicken Sliders into the dressing and called it dinner. I had a salad and/or yams to go with, but we never made it that far.

Fortunately, I had the foresight to get stuff for dinner tomorrow night, too. A big pretty salad with edemame and seared scallops. At least, that's the plan for now...

You say "chipotole," I say "chipotle," becuase that's how it's pronounced

2009-08-11T20:50:00.005-04:00

I used to think Bobby Flay was a cocky jerk. Now I think he's endearing, with overtones of cocky jerkiness. But they don't bother me. Mostly, he's an alpha male and a chef, on top of being a New Yorker. So, it's understandable. As Gretchen Wilson says, "a product of my raisin'." Yee-haw indeed.

I softened on him the more I watched him on various shows on Food Network. Bobby Flay, in case you missed it, is on every show on Food Network. He is a judge on Next Food Network Star, he's an Iron Chef, he does Throwdown, plus his Grill It and Boy Meets Grill. I think he might have a few other random ones thrown in, because I swear he is in a new show whenever I turn around. In addition, he just pops up from time to time in the most unusual places. For example, commercials. He's where's waldo with a santoku.

Setting aside his alpha-maleness, the man certainly knows how to cook. When he's not the only one in front of the camera, he's likable, too. You can tell he actually likes people, which helps quite a bit. Passionate about his stuff but not afraid to be real, too. I can respect that.

What I can't bring myself to accept is his insistence on using the word, "chipotole." It's chipotle! Three syllables! Do not add another, for goodness sake! It's just a jalapeno that's been smoked; the smoking does not add an extra syllable. If you're at all familiar with Bobby Flay, you know that this isn't an occasional problem because the man is obsessed with chillies of various description. It's just fingernails on a chalkboard to me when he says it.

Why the semantic rant? No real reason. We used the adobo from a can of chipotles to marinate a flank steak the other day before grilling. Then we sliced it thinly across the grain, for ease of chewing, and put it on tortillas with red onion, yellow tomato, some fresh cilantro and a smattering of shmear (labled queso fresco for the occasion). It was heavenly and almost embarrassingly simple, considering the taste. The grill and chipotle married the smoky char flavor into the meat, but the fresh tomato kept it from being overpowering. The cilantro lent a wonderful freshness and flavor, and the queso was a creamy and sweet counterpoint. A perfect meal before a night on the town, which is what we did. Fabulous Sister babysat. It's nice to be a grown up, a woman and a wife sometimes without worrying about being a mommy, too. It makes me appreciate Baby Girl that much more.

Start with a chicken...

2009-08-10T23:19:00.002-04:00

We started with a rotisserie chicken from Sam's Club, a good deal at $4.99, particularly with the size of the bird. (The small ones at the Erie County Farms for around $3 are pretty cool, too). I carved off the breasts (a serial killer diary entry if ever I saw one) and sliced thinly across the grain. Layered on a croissant with some orange tomato and some quick spiced aioli et voila, lunch.

Aioli is actually something a little more complicated than what I made, but the truth is Darling Husband won't eat mayonnaise. He will eat things called aioli or remulade, though, so I mixed a bit of mayo with some sambol olek, black pepper and a bit of lemon zest and gave it a fancy name. It really punched up the sandwich, though.

In the past, this would have been about all I would have done with the chicken. Oh, I'd continue to carve what I could, but in the end, I'd either give it to my mother or (and I'm ashamed to admit this) toss the carcass.

My mother would pick over the bird, boil it to make stock, pick over it again and then make 200 more meals from it. I'm only slightly exaggerating.

Tonight I became very brave and, for the first time in my life, made homemade chicken soup. I don't like soup. I don't like chicken soup especially. I don't like the smell of boiling bones. But I made the soup and I'm not exactly sure why.

I put the bird in a pot and covered with water, bringing to a boil and simmering 2 hours. Then I strained out the chicken, which had fallen apart into approximately one inch pieces. The spine was particularly unnerving. I strained the broth again, then began picking over the chicken pile. I was surprised at how much good meat I found. The boiling had removed much of the connective tissue, making it very easy to extract the meat. I tossed onion, carrots, zucchini (yes, still that zucchini) and pasta into the broth, followed by the chicken meat.

It looks good. I hope it tastes good. I might even taste it myself, since it made quite a bit. I'm kinda proud of myself.

Hotter than blazes

2009-08-09T22:23:00.003-04:00

I shouldn't complain about the weather. I live in a city where complaining about the weather is practically required, like property taxes or shoveling your sidewalk in the winter. It's either too hot, too cold, too humid, too snowy, too rainy, too dry, too too too. Perhaps this is a national problem, not local. It may even be a function of being human, though I doubt it. Those who live in and around Erie, though, love to grouse.

Lately, the common lament is that it hasn't really been summer yet. It's been too mild, too wet. We haven't had proper sunny days with soaring temperatures. Not enough people are being treated for heat stroke at area hospitals and people seem to be displeased. For me? Well, rain means I don't have to worry about watering my tomatoes twice a day. It freshens the earth, makes the grass grow green (not burnt and brown and dead) and keeps the ponds full.

Okay, so there's ants and spiders galore. I could do without that. The way I figure it, though, the nice thing about living in Erie is the killing frost and long winters means the spiders only grow so big. You know those big mother *&!!@*! spiders you get in October? Come November, they're a distant memory. Bring on the snow, I say, and keep your poisonous spiders and snakes.

I've been enjoying the mildish weather, but it seems summer descended with a vengeance today. All of a sudden it was 80 degrees at 8:30 this morning, soaring to 95 by lunch. We chose to go to a baseball game this afternoon, which didn't seem like such a crap idea until about the seventh inning, when baby girl was hot and cranky and I wasn't much better. We went to the lovely refrigerated house of my parents and Baby Girl and I jumped into a lukewarm tub. Ahhhhh.

How do people in Miami and Phoenix and Houston and Jackson do it? I barely wanted to eat today, let alone cook. I told Darling Husband I wasn't much hungry, and thought I might just have a couple of crackers and go to bed. He was hungry and, fortunately, thought I probably was, too. We ordered Chinese from our favorite spot, Cathay Express, which is coincidentally just a few blocks from my office. As soon as we put in our order, I realized I was famished. I felt confident in going there despite the fact that they had two critical violations last week. Actually, it's probably safest to eat just after a violation, because everyone is on their toes. As I recall, their lo mein wasn't kept cold enough (it's just noodles, for goodness sake. And they recook them anyway) and some such.

The food at Cathay Express is good, and I can say without hesitation that they are willing to put up with any number of wacko bollocks custom orderings. Ladies at my office do not make it easy on these people. They almost always get the orders correct, and I applaud them. What do I mean? The following is a typical list of orders, which I call in to the person who speaks broken English (keep in mind the lunch specials include pork fried rice and choice of wonton or hot and sour soup):

Off the lunch special, Chicken and Broccoli, no chicken, with pork fried rice, no pork. Also, no soup, but a can of pop instead.
Chicken and Broccoli, no broccoli, with white rice and hot and sour soup.
Curry Chicken (which isn't a lunch special, but please make it a lunch special) with white rice, no soup but an egg roll instead.
Orange Chicken, extra spicy, with steamed chicken (not fried), white rice, no soup but an eggroll.

You get the picture. Nary a one of us orders straight. Yet I state again, 99% of the time, no matter how bonkers we've made the order, it's correct. Bless 'em, they know their customers.

Some people just can't hold their whey

2009-08-06T22:28:00.005-04:00

Our shmear casse came out great, in my opinion, although I'm waiting to hear what my grandmother has to say about it. It was so easy and so tasty, I'm wondering why everyone doesn't do this! You could totally make a half batch, too, if you didn't want to use it all.

What have we done with it? Tonight, I made a savory tart (which reminds me, I think Americans should emulate our British cousins and start calling people "tarts") with moroccan spiced chicken, orange tomatoes, andouille sausage, provolone, shmear casse and zucchini.

I have to say, I'm thinking of this mammoth squash we're still eating at as the Loaves and Fishes Zucchini. It doesn't matter how many times we cut and cook. It could feed a frat house for a year and still have more to go. I'm not generally given to blasphemy, and please excuse this next bit, but perhaps there weren't loaves and fishes after all. Maybe the neighbors just saw an opportunity and took it. They all ran for the left over zucchini people had in their gardens and just kept dumping it on the crowd. "Haven't we gotten to the end of the zucchini yet? Where did this come from?" "Uh..... nowhere! It was a miracle! I certainly didn't nip around to my house to get it. It must've been that guy up there!" The food stuff switch came later, when they were actually printing the Bibles. Never ending Zucchini doesn't sound nearly as poetic as Loaves and Fishes. It was changed in editing. Blame it on Guetenberg.

Back to the tart. I blind baked the crust, a store bought thin pizza crust in a tube. It has a great buttery richness but bakes to a cracker like crunch. I think it's Pillsbury. Anyway, my tip for the dough is don't let it sit for ten minutes in a hot kitchen, or it will melt the fat in the dough and you will not be able to unroll it. Instead, you will stretch and rip it, leaving you with an ugly crust with yawning rents and bloated edges. It will still taste awesome.

I drizzled a little olive oil then sprinkled the shmear casse. I should have had a heavier hand with this, because whenever I ate the finished tart, the bites with extra creamy, sweet, dairylicious ooze were my favorites. Next came zucchini slices, wafer thin and flash grilled to take the raw off but not add char. On top of these were thin slices of orange tomato. Most yellow and orange varieties are low acid, which is something you don't know you need until you have it. Raw red tomatoes, while wonderful, can be a bit overpowering in the mouth. The juice of these is more mellow, less assertive, and more reminiscent (to me, at least) of water than juice. An eau de vie, if you will.

But I digress. Over the tomatoes, I layered slices of chicken, which I had previously spiced with a moroccan blend and grilled. I sliced on the bias, the way they do to present meat in fancy restaurants, which means you're not trying to slice long tissue strands of chicken with your teeth just taking a bite. Much less messy. Also pretty. I studded the tart with slices of chicken andouille sausage, a last minute addition when I came across one lonely wurst in my freezer and decided to give it a home in this meal. I grilled it first as well.

Provolone topped the whole shebang and into the oven it went. It may not have started pretty, but it sure looked good coming out. The moment of biting into the tart was only slightly marred by my remembering I had forgotten to put fresh herbs on it. It was still good.

(It is at this point in a letter where I might sign my name, then do a P.S.. Blogs don't work that way, but let it be known that was an ending sentence and the following is, technically, a post script.)

Ah, wait. I forgot to address the blog post title. Well, it's like this. When you need a couple mint oreos to round out your evening and the only milk in the house is whole milk for your baby, and you've been drinking skim milk since you were 8, and besides you're not going to steal your baby's milk, and oreos just aren't all they can be without being dunked until soft and just about to disintegrate, and you realize that you do have a jar of left over whey from when you made cheese a couple days ago... well, you might just decide to taste it. And you might decide that, actually, it tastes like slightly sweet skim milk. So you might decide to go with it. It's also possible that you would be watching the Pirates game at the same time, and that you'd be a bit tired and punchy, so strange phrases would come from you, causing fits of nonsensical giggles.

It would be at this point that your Darling Husband would tell you that you're cut off, and mutter, "Some people just can't hold their whey."

Magically delicious

2009-08-06T22:23:00.003-04:00

I am lucky to be able to say my husband loves to cook, does a good job, and can even clean up after himself. Darling Husband called on his way home from work and offered to stop at the store and make dinner. Actually, he offered to make dinner magically appear without me having to think of anything, prep for it, cook it or anything.

Ladies, I ask you, how many of your husbands would do this? And not bring home takeout?

Darling Husband made chicken picatta, thin breast of chicken pan seared in a lemon caper shallot sauce. With a side of linguine, tossed in the pan sauce. Mmmmmmmmmm!!!!! The chicken was moist and wonderful, the sauce was tangy and yet well rounded, the capers were little bursts of salty flavor and the pasta was the perfect vehicle.

Bravo, honeybear!

As an after thought, capers always remind me of steak tartare my mom made when I was a kid. She used to serve it with doritos and plain tortilla chips. Now that's comfort food, baby.

More veggie tales, plus exciting developments

2009-08-04T22:20:00.003-04:00

Baby Girl, Darling Husband and I had planned to have a picnic at the peninsula this evening, but threatening clouds and the fall out from Baby Girl's 12 month check up today (four shots!) changed our plans. Instead, we had a picnic in the back yard. Hot dogs, pasta salad and grilled zucchini for us, club crackers and yogurt melts for Baby Girl. She'd already eaten her green beans while we were prepping the zucchini. She could be brave only so long.

Did you notice I said zucchini? Yes, loyal readers, we're still hacking away at the behemoth vegetable Darling Husband gleefully carted home from his office. Tonight we lopped off four large rounds, brushed them with jerk sauce and grilled them. That darned squash easily has three more meals left on it. This is, btw, left over jerk from the batch I made for my Build a Better Burger submission (more on that momentarily). The habanero really had time to build the heat--it was much hotter a sauce than it was before!

Unfortunately, the humidity is so high today that Baby Girl's crackers were turning soggy just sitting out. My mint oreo did the same, just in the span of a half hour. Sheesh!

You may have noticed my hit counter at the bottom of the blog now. I finally figured out how to put one in (thanks for tech support from Darling Husband!) and just in time, because there may be a few new visitors here for a bit. If you scroll back a few posts, you'll see that the Sutter Home blogger contacted me and asked if I'd allow them to link to my blog about prepping my burger recipe... turns out I'm the only one they featured in quite this way! They're soliciting stories and used mine to prime the pump, so to speak. I am very honored and excited. We're celebrating with a bottle of Sutter Home tomorrow night... I'm thinking Gewürztraminer.

If you're stumbling on this blog and haven't been here before, I encourage you to leave me a comment! I love comments, no matter if they're from people I see every day or people I've never met. It makes me feel part of a larger community.

Food Network chose wrong

2009-08-03T23:12:00.002-04:00

I think they picked the wrong person to be the Next Food Network Star. I don't have anything against Melissa, but Jeffrey had a passion for food and a talent for explaining things that I really loved. His pilot was all about taking a new ingredient and finding uses for it. Love it!! He inspired me to try harissa, and I was really disappointed that 1) they didn't choose him and therefore I won't have cool new things to try each week and 2) Wegman's doesn't carry harissa.

Damn. Going to have to order it online.

Good luck, Melissa. I don't really need you to tell me how to pan sear chicken, and I worry that a half hour with you will be saccharine overkill, but as a person I relate to you and your babies are cute. (Four girls under the age of five. She deserves a medal!)

I do think Food Network should give Jeffrey his own show anyway.

Ale braised beef

2009-08-03T23:01:00.002-04:00

With my chopped ingredients (as you recall, cane sugar, spare ribs, cellophane noodles, fava beans, white balsamic vinegar) I made a dinner with elements that worked and ones that fell flat.

I braised the ribs in Sam Adam's Summer Ale, having first seared them and added onions, garlic and golden cherries. Very little can go wrong when you start this way. When the meat was finished, I removed them and reduced the sauce with a bit of cane sugar grated in with the back of a vegetable peeler to achieve a kind of glaze. It worked. :o)

The fava beans were a bit intimidating, having read that they can be poisonous raw. I shelled them and boiled them, then removed their outer casing (as one might an edemame). I added them to some boiled, rustically smash cut potatoes and doused with the vinegar. I was going for a sort of pub "chips" taste.

Four ingredients thus out of the way, this left only the cellophane noodles. Have you ever seen the footage of dropping these in hot oil and they puff up immediately like someone's pulled the string on an emergency lifeboat? Yeah, it doesn't actually work. I looked it up ahead of time and used a thermometer, even. I achieved semi-success with soaking the noodles first, but even this wasn't right. I had intended it to be a garnish. Fortunately, I had saved out about a third of the package. I put these straight into the sauce from the beef to cook that way.

The meal worked. The meat was tender, although another hour would've been perfect. The sauce had all melded and married, so much so that eating a bit of cherry just tasted like the meaty goodness of the whole. The beans and potatoes were tasty and comforting. All in all, a qualified success.

My curds and whey

2009-08-03T22:52:00.002-04:00

Tonight Darling Husband and I made shmear casse, or a fresh, farmer style cheese. Various people/recipes call it cottage cheese, queso blanco, ricotta and farmer cheese. I think regardless of what you call it, it's pretty darn cool.

True ricotta, actually, isn't technically a cheese at all. It's made from the whey left over from making, for example, mozzarella. It's name means re-cooked.

To make this cheese, we brought a gallon of whole milk up to 180 degrees, then stirred in 1/4 cup of vinegar. We let this cook, stirring, for 15 minutes while it curdled. Then we lined a colander with paper towels (because we had no luck at WalMart finding cheesecloth) and allowed it to strain out the curds from the whey. I kept looking about for spiders, but none were up on their literary cue.

What were we left with? We'll both find out tomorrow. My father said his grandfather's final step was to hang it above the sink to drip. Ours is dripping into a big pot, because surely there's a use for the whey. I hear there's a Portuguese soup made from it, but I don't know for what our whey is destined.

I'm holding off on making plans for my cheese until I see it and taste it. Will it be more like cottage cheese or more like queso blanco? Will it melt? Hmmm... I don't even know how much it will make. I'm planning on sharing some with my father no matter how much it makes, but I'm curious if I should be planning an appetizer application or plan to have left overs.

My turn! Dinner challenge...

2009-08-01T15:41:00.002-04:00

Darling Husband has just presented me with Chopped ingredients (yes, we still do this, but it's a pain in the tuckus to blog about regularly. We manage about once every other week).

Fava beans
Boneless spare ribs
White balsamic vinegar
Cellophane noodles
Cane sugar (as in a big, hard block of brown stuff)

I'm thinking I need to use the balsamic as a finishing flavor, the noodles as texture, and I'd better braise the ribs for tenderness. I have some ideas brewing but I'm going to be coy and not share them just yet. You'll have to wait for the big unveil.

Incidentally, I just researched fava beans quickly and found that they can be fatal to certain people if eaten raw! Oh my! Those who take MAO inhibitors shouldn't eat them. (who knew?)And that some people use them instead of viagra. Also, in Egypt, the national dish is steamed and mashed fava with spices and garlic, served with bread. This is usually a breakfast food.

Food for thought. Of course, you could just eat it with liver and a nice chianti...

Unloved zucchini

2009-07-31T21:52:00.003-04:00

There is something so forlorn about the abandoned zucchini that turn up in break rooms of office buildings this time of year. Plucked from their lush, happy garden and plunked unceremoniously on a cold composite table, under harsh fluorescent light and away from natural sun. Left there unregarded to rot or be thrown away by the cleaning people, if no one wants them. Because already no one wanted them. A loved would be sitting in a beautiful basket in the kitchen or, better yet, taken straight from plant to cutting board. Not these ones.

Fortunately there are those who open their hearts and their kitchens to the unloved zucchini, taking it on as their own. What kind of cold hearted person could see a veg in need and walk away?

Darling Husband brought home one such veg this week. "Just one?" you ask. YES. It was a monster of a zucchini, stretching from my elbow to finger tips and so wide around that I couldn't wrap both hands around and touch. We could've hollowed it out and rented it to college students to live in.

Instead we decided to fry it and make napoleons. I made essentially a hot crab dip, with farmer cheese, canned crab (not the fake flake, my friends!) and artichoke. Actually, I started with a quick, blonde roux and added milk for a bechamel, augmented with the cheese, crab and artchoke. It was pretty great, but the texture of the crab was completely lost.

Darling Husband cut thin slices of the behemoth squash and dredged in corn meal before frying. We layered a slice, a dollop, a slice, a dollop and a slice and called it dinner. A very, very rich dinner that was amazing, but actually a bit much for me. It would do better on a smaller scale and as an appetizer, I think. That being said, it tasted awesome and looked beautiful.

We had other ideas for the big zucchini, including stuffing it with a sausage and couscous mixture, making a monster curry, grilling planks with steak seasoning (for vegan steak, of course), zucchini parmasean. The good thing is we can still do all of those things because we still have most of a giant zucchini waiting for us. "Use me," it calls to us. Creepy, no? Maybe we should hollow it out and rent it to college students. I hear affordable housing can be hard to find.

On an unrelated note, my father today was telling me of his grandfather making what he called schmear casse, essentially homemade cottage cheese. I, not knowing this, had just been researching making my own ricotta. It's a coincidence that doesn't mean much, but I like saying schmear casse. I googled it and found a thread where a group was expounding on the virtues of scrapple, and one of them suggested apple butter und schmear casse as manna. The reply was, "gee, you really are from PA Dutch country!".