Knife-wielding Feminists

Hot Pasta Salad

2006-07-25T11:19:00.000-07:00

This is a great recipe year-round, because it's flexible about what veggies you can put in it. It's simple to make and takes very little time. Here goes:

For two people you need:
1 tomato
1 leek (1 thing of leeks?)
2 in season veggies (I used 1 zucchini and a couple handfuls of mushrooms)
some goat cheese
coarse salt
enough pasta for two people (you want smallish pasta like macaroni or fusili)
1 tbsp. olive oil
1 pot for pasta
1 cast-iron frying pan

You want to time things so that the pasta is ready just as the veggies are cooked. When you should start the pasta water depends on the size of your pot, the amount of water you're using, and which veggies you chose. I used a large saucepan, 2/3 full of water, and I started it just after I turned the heat on under the oil.

Pour your oil into the frying pan and turn the heat on low-medium. Slice all the white part of the leek into circles and toss it into the pan. You want the heat low enough that the leeks will turn transparent and sweet, not brown, even if you ignore them for a few minutes.
While the leeks are cooking, chop the other veggies into bite-sized pieces, stopping occasionally to flip the leek circles.
When the leeks are sufficiently done that all your veggies will finish at the same time, add the other veggies. Chop your tomato into bite sized pieces and reserve it. Saute all of the stuff in your pan, adding the pasta to the water when appropriate, until it's all cooked. If you've timed things right, the pasta should be done at approximately the same time.

Drain the pasta, but don't shake out too much of the water, and then add it to the frying pan. Dump the tomato on top, and add a sprinkle of course salt. Stir the whole mess around just until the salt is all dissolved, then turn the heat way down. (If you're using an electric stove, now would be a good time to turn the burner off, but leave the pan on the burner.) Let it sit in the pan for the time it takes you to crumble half the desired amounts of goat cheese into the bowls. Divide the pasta and veggies between the bowls, crumble the rest of the cheese on top, and stir to melt the cheese.

The noodles and veggies need to be quite hot to properly melt the cheese, so this is a dish you want to serve as soon as it is done.

A word on choosing your veggies:
Since salt is the only seasoning in this, you want to choose vegetables that can really hold their own, but are light enough not to bog down the dish, which is supposed to be light. I don't recommend green peppers, which are kind of blah when cooked, or any kind of fall or winter squash, which will overpower the dish in flavour, and be too heavy in texture. If you cook them only lightly, red, orange, or yellow peppers would probably be okay. I find mushrooms a really good choice because their juices tend to coat everything, which ensures that all your pasta will have some flavour, provided you stir sufficiently. To replace the zucchini, you can use asparagus, spinach, or pretty much any brassica (broccoli, cauliflower, red or green cabbage). Just make sure, if you use cauliflower especially, that it's fully cooked but not overdone. You can also use carrots, but if you do you'll want to put them in before the leeks. Carrots take a damn long time to cook.

cross-posted at my blog.

Ten-minute bean dip

2006-02-25T06:36:00.000-08:00

From Linda McCartney on Tour

1 can pinto beans, drained and rinsed
1 tbsp olive oil
juice of 2 limes (or one lemon)
1 medium red onion, chopped
1 tbsp coriander
1 clove garlic

Blend all ingredients until smooth. Serve with tortilla chips or vegetable sticks. If you want to use this as a spread (excellent on whole grain crackers or hefty toasted bread), use just one lime and/or reduce the olive oil a bit.

Cabbage rolls

2006-02-17T14:14:00.000-08:00

Cross-posted from my own new and shiny blog. I made these last week and they were fantastic.

Cabbage Rolls

Filling

1-1/2 pounds ground beef (or turkey)*
3/4 cup cooked rice**
1/2 cup finely chopped (or grated) onion
1 egg
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1/2 cup milk
1-2 ounces grated parmsesan or romano cheese

Sauce

1 cup V8***
1 big can whole tomatoes, chopped

For the top

1 container saurkraut, drained and rinced
1-2 oz sliced pepperoni (optional)

Drop cabbage leaves into boiling salted water; cover and cook for 3 minutes. Drain well. For filling, combine ground beef, rice, onion, egg, and salt, pepper, cheese, and milk. Mix well and divide into 12 portions. Place a portion into the center of each cabbage leaf. Roll leaf around filling. Place in a baking dish. Place saurkraut around the rolls. Pour V8 and tomatoes over the cabbage rolls, and scatter the pepperoni on top. Bake covered in a preheated 350° oven for one hour. Remove rolls and allow to rest for 30 minutes. (Cabbage rolls are actually much better the next day.)

* I used turkey

** I didn't have rice (!!), so I used uncooked quinoa, and it worked very well.

*** I prefer the low sodium

Born and Bread

2006-02-13T19:29:00.000-08:00

A new era of baking has come into being for me. A couple weeks ago, with the help of a friend who knows how, I made my very first yeast bread. It was cinnamon raisin bread, which I had been craving for weeks, but not buying on the grounds that it was too much of a luxury, and it was super yummy.

So tonight, I am making German rye bread. All by myself. I am so proud.

Good and (not) good for you

2006-02-04T08:43:00.000-08:00

I posted this on my own (new! new!) blog, and have been thinking about them ever since. As I mention there, I learned only recently that they're apparently a regional thing. Bread and pepperoni, who'd have thought? Where I grew up, they were everywhere.

Pepperoni Rolls

1 lb Bread dough

1 T oregano

6 oz sliced pepperoni

8 oz shredded mozzarella (optional)

2 T oil

1/4 c flour

Grated parmesan

On a floured surface, roll out dough into 12" x 16" rectangle. Sprinkle oregano over dough. Spread with pepperoni and cheese. Starting with long side, roll up jelly-roll style. Cut into 12 rolls. Place on a 9" x 13" pan sprayed with non-stick cooking spray. Sprinkle rolls with parmesan cheese. Cover with plastic wrap that has also been sprayed. Let rise until double in size. Remove wrap. Bake at 350F for 15-20 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

New find

2006-02-01T07:01:00.000-08:00

Grilled cheese and pickle sandwich. Yum.

Caramel spread

2005-12-19T16:12:00.000-08:00

I have a jar of it, and now I need to figure out what to do with it. Please leave suggestions in the comments.

Another Meal Born of desperation: An Attempt at Fart Juice Soup

2005-12-13T10:06:00.000-08:00

Fart juice, for the uninitiated, is the liquid that's left over from cooking dried beans, so called because of what it makes most people do.

Now, opinions differ when it comes to what one should do with this liquid. Some cookbooks say to strain it off and rinse the beans, lest the fibre that has leached into the liquid cause discomfort and embarrassment, while others claim that much of the beans nutritional value is now it the water and throwing it away is wasteful. I used to abide by the former recommendation, not out of any desire to avoid flatulence, but rather because I would have had no idea what to do with the juice, had I kept it. Until one day I was cooking with Floh. I forget what we were making, but we were cooking beans, and when it came time to strain them, Floh strained the liquid into a container and stuck it in the freezer. In Costa Rica, Floh explained, one *never* throws away the fart juice. No, no. In Costa Rica, one reserves it, along with some beans, to make Fart Juice Soup another day.

"Sounds good," I thought to myself, and the next time I cooked beans I reserved the liquid. Then I called Floh.

"I have three litres of fart juice in my freezer," I said. "What do I do with it?"
"Three litres?!?" came the reply. "Jeez, well, I'll come over and make soup, but I can't use all three litres!"
So, come over she did, and soup she did make. But that was almost a year ago. And I've had two litres of fart juice sitting in my freezer unused ever since. Until yesterday.

Yesterday I was hungry. I wanted something that would make me feel good. Something high in fibre and vitamins and low in fat. I looked in the fridge. I hadn't gotten around to doing a proper grocery shop in a while, and my produce supply was down to two carrots of dubious quality and a few apples.

"But I want vitamins!" I cried, "I want veggies!"

"Well, I'll start making some brown rice," I thought. "It's got lots of fibre in it, and I can eat it with whatever I come up with." So I put 2/3 of a cup of rice and 1 1/3 cups of water in a pot on the stove and set it to boiling. Then, out of desperation, I looked in the freezer. "Fart juice!" I exclaimed. "Fart juice has vitamins! Fart juice has fibre! I'll make Fart Juice Soup!" Then I realized a problem. When Floh made me soup, it contained veggies. It had tomatoes and potatoes and all manner of good and healthful things, none of which were to be found in my apartment. Not to mention beans, to thicken it. But the beans that the fart juice was made from were long consumed. Not to be discouraged, I looked in the pantry, on the legume can shelf. There stood one lone can of chickpeas. "Chickpeas are beans," I reasoned, and grabbed the can.

Still not sure where I was going with all this, I put the yogurt container of fart juice in a pot of hot water to melt, and examined my options in the freezer. There was a bag of freezer-burned corn, some frozen berries, and a plastic bag containing the results of my cleaning my snail tank, which I freeze to kill off the eggs.

Sighing, I pulled the corn out of the freezer. Freezer burnt though it was, I supposed it would do.

The fart juice was now sufficiently thawed that I could get it out of its container, so I poured the water out of the pot, dumped the fart juice in, added my last can of chickpeas and a bunch of corn, and put it on the stove to heat up, along with a bunch of tabasco sauce and some salt. When it all came to a boil I slowly poured in a whisked egg.

Once the rice was almost done I strained the water off and added it to the soup. And you know what? It's seriously yummy!

Thanks, Floh!

(x-posted to my blog, Jaköbische Rants)

Why to avoid fake food

2005-11-29T07:42:00.000-08:00

I am not generally a big proponent of "diet food," but on the last weight loss attempt before this one (last year), I did make some forays into the diet food world. One of these forays, Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches, was actually pretty good, though I remain suspicious of what exactly is in them. Most of the other things I bought I never even tried.

Fast forward to last night. It's 9:30, I'm at home in my pajamas, and I have an undeniable chocolate craving. Unlike some people, this doesn't happen to me very often, but when it does, it is all I can think about or talk about until it is fed. I ransack the cupboard, looking for something. I am incredibly saddened to find we do not have any of the best brownie mix in the world (Ghiradelli Triple Chocolate, for the uninitiated). What we did have, hanging out in the back of the cupboard, was a No Pudge! fat-free mint brownie mix. Just add 2/3 cup of nonfat vanilla yogurt. Hrm. Well, in the absence of a better option, it's worth a try, right?

Wrong. So, so wrong. I don't know what the product of what came out of that box+2/3 cup of incredibly yummy Stonyfield non-fat french vanilla was, but it was certainly not brownies. I was trepidatious when I tried to lick the batter off the mixer paddle and it stung my tongue, but I decided to give it the benefit of the doubt--maybe it would cook up fine. It did not cook up fine. The cooked result seemed to be a plastic product of some sort. Even moltenly hot, it kept its shape--never a good sign in a brownie. And it tasted like Mr. Clean. Seriously.

Here's the part I don't get, though. The worst thing about these brownies was their complete and utter artificial flavor. It was nearly impossible to believe they came out of my own oven, not a factory. And yet, according to the label, there are no artificial ingredients in the mix. Somehow, the makers of No Pudge! have taken real food products and put them together in such a combination as to make them taste like artificial diet food. Which is, I wager, exactly why they are popular--like Snackwells before them, they taste so artificial that the dieter eating them is easily able to make the distinction between them and something "naughty." Something full of fat and calories. Something real.

The take-home message is the same as always: diet food is a bad idea. The first premise of healthy eating should be to eat food that remembers where it came from, or at least food that came from somewhere you can identify. More that all of the fat and calories and sugar in the world, we should be afraid of food that isn't made out of food. And given this experience, I'll add that we should also be suspicious of food that does seem to be made out of food, but doesn't have the properties food should have. In the case of brownies, those properties rightly include both fat and calories. And that's the way it should be.

Cross-posted at What If No One's Watching?.

Turkey noodle casserole

2005-11-26T19:58:00.000-08:00

A wild guess tells me y'all might have a lot of leftover turkey at your houses. I know we do. So today I decided to go old school and make turkey noodle casserole. Mark says it is casserole and not hot dish, and since he is from Minnesota and I am not, I'm going with his terminology. I didn't have a recipe, so I sort of just made one up, and it tastes pretty damn good. It also looks pretty good, considering.

Here's how to go about it:

1. Boil up a package of wide egg noodles.
2. While those are cooking, chop up a couple of stalks of celery, a couple of carrots, a red bell pepper, and an onion.
3. Saute above in a bit of butter.
4. Strip and tear up a couple of cups of leftover turkey. I used the dark meat for this, since I don't like it for just eating plain.
5. Once the veggies are soft, mix in two cans of Campbell's Healthy Request Cream of Mushroom soup (or the low-sodium COM soup of your choice) and about 1/2 cup of milk.
6. In a big bowl, mix the drained and rinsed egg noodles, the turkey, the veggies and soup mixture, and a bag of frozen peas (or not, if you don't dig peas--I personally love peas).
7. Butter up a casserole dish (I used an 8"X12" Pyrex dish), transfer the mixture into it, pat it down.
8. Sprinkle about 1/2 cup of grated parmesan cheese and 3/4 cup bread crumbs on the top.
9. Cook uncovered at 350 degrees for about an hour, or until everything is crusty and bubbly.
10. Eat it.
11. Get it out of the reach of the cat.

What are you doing with your leftovers? We've still got 3-4 lbs left, I think...

Little Princess Dinner Rolls

2005-11-23T13:56:00.000-08:00

2 pkg. yeast
2 1/2 c. water
3/4 c. sugar
2 eggs
3/4 c. oil
2 tsp. salt
6-7 c. flour

Dissolve the yeast in the water (which could be a little bit warm, but not that warm) with sugar. Add remaining wet ingredients and combine, then add flour a bit at a time. Shape into balls and let rise for one hour in warm place (ideally, you'll put them on a pan and they'll merge some as they rise). Bake in a 350 oven for 30-40 minutes, until golden brown. Immediately after removing them from the oven, rub a little butter over the top.

Spooky

2005-10-31T05:34:00.000-08:00

Ice Cream!

2005-10-24T08:51:00.000-07:00

It has been a long, long time since I have posted anything here. But I made something so good this weekend that I have to share it.

My Mom's Chocolate Mint Ice Cream:

Step 1: If you do not already have one, buy an ice cream maker. I bought one on a whim on a clearance rack at Target last weekend. It's this one, and it was like $13:

It is either 4 quart or 5 quart, which is handily the same as size as the old one my mom has, so that's how much this recipe is for. It's quite a lot. You may want to half it. Or not.

Step 2: In a large mixer bowl (I used my Kitchenaid, but you can do it with a wisk or a hand mixer), beat four eggs until they are foamy.

Step 3: Add 2.5 cups of white sugar and beat until thick.

Step 4: Add 4 cups of heavy cream, 2 tablespoons of vanilla extract, and a pinch of salt. Beat until combined.

Step 5: Pour the mixture into the canister of your ice cream maker.

Step 6: Pour milk into the canister to the fill line (for my size, about 5 cups).

Step 7: Put the paddle in the canister, put the lid on, and put it in the bucket (or however the instructions on your's say to do it).

Step 8: Plug that sucker in and get it spinning.

Step 9: Pour alternating layers of crushed ice and rock salt in the bucket around the canister (again, see the directions for your specific machine).

Step 10: While it's spinning away, chop up a large-sized Ghiradelli chocolate bar into the little bits, then crush a bag of Starlite mints.

Step 11: When the ice cream maker stops spinning (about 30 minutes for mine), take out the canister and open it up. If you used this recipe and have my-size machine, it will be very full. Remove the paddle and scrape the ice cream on it into the container with a spatula. If you have more ice cream than container, put some of it in a Tupperware or something. Stir the mints and chocolate in.

Step 12: Put it in the freezer and let it set for several hours.

Step 13: Eat it until you are sick.

Note: This recipe worked well for me, but I found the vanilla to be pretty strong. I think it would be great for vanilla ice cream, but with the chocolate and mint, it was a bit much. Next time I make non-vanilla ice cream, I think I'll cut it down to 1 tablespoon. YMMV.

Happy Food!

2005-10-01T19:38:00.000-07:00

I made what I thought was a lazy meal tonight. I had leftover soup and a head of Romaine lettuce, so I thought: Yes. Soup and salad. The end. As an afterthought, I made some popovers, and as we sat down at the table, I looked at the spread and was filled with an inexplicable happiness. For whatever reason, this meal jelled so perfectly together, that I thought, damn, I totally pulled this off. Best of all, the light custard popovers only took 10 minutes to prepare and 30 to bake.

I highly recommend this meal to anyone who's in the mood to make themselves feel like hot shit.

Here's what you do: make the soup the day before. I made Gypsy Soup, or Stone Soup, or whatever kind of soup you make that combines the vegetables in your garden with what's aging gracefully in your crisper with the frozen veggies in your freezer.

Gypsy Soup.

2 tomatoes
2 T olive oil
2 C chopped onions
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 stalk celery, minced
2 C peeled, diced sweet potato
1 t salt
2 t paprika
1 t turmeric
1 t basil
pinch of cinnamon
pinch of cayenne
1 bay leaf
3 C water
1 bell pepper, diced
1 1/2 C cooked chick peas

1.) Heat a medium-sized saucepanful of water to boiling. Core the tomatoes, and plunge them into the boiling water for a slow count of ten. Remove the tomatoes, and peel them over a sink. Cut them open; squeeze out and discard the seeds. Chop the remaining pulp and set aside.

2.) Heat the olive oil in a kettle or Dutch oven. Add onion, garlic, celery,a nd sweet potato, and saute over medium heat for about 5 minutes. Add salt, and saute 5 minutes more. Add seasonings and water, cover, and simmer about 15 minutes.

3.) Add tomato pulp, bell pepper, and chick peas. cover and simmer for about 10 more minutes, or until all the vegetables are as tender as you like them. Taste to adjust seasonings and serve.

Okay, so, if you make this the day before, or two days before, all you have to do is reheat it for this meal. Next, make the popovers.

Popovers.

2-3 T melted butter
3 large eggs
1 1/4 C milk (lowfat okay)
1 1/4 C flour
1/2 t salt

1.) Heat oven to 375 degrees. Brush the insides of 12 muffin cups with melted butter or margarine.

2.) Beat together the eggs and milk in a medium-sized bowl. Add the flour and salt, and beat with a whisk until reasonably well blended. It's okay if the batter is lumpy.

3.) Fill each muffin cup about 1/2 full. Bake 30 minutes. Try not to open the oven door while baking.

4.) Remove the popovers from the pan immediately, and prick each with a fork to let the steam escape. These are great with butter, and so good with grape jelly it brings a tear to your eye.

While the popovers are baking, make the Caesar salad. Set two eggs to boil for 2 minutes.

Melt 2 T butter in microwave. Add 2 T olive oil, and 2 cloves of garlic, peeled and cut in half. Heat in microwave 20 minutes more, then set aside for 10 minutes. Discard the garlic. Toss the butter mixture with 3 slices of bread that has been cut into cubes. Spread bread cubes on baking sheet and bake for 12 minutes. Mash together in a small bowl until a paste is formed: 4 cloves of crushed garlic and 1/2 t salt. Whisk in 2 t lemon juice, 1 t Worcestershire sauce, and salt and pepper to taste. (Here's where two mashed anchovies go, if you can stand it.) Add 1/2 C olive oil in a slow, steady stream.

In a salad bowl, toss croutons and lettuce together with dressing. Toss in cooked eggs. Sprinkle with 1/2 C Parmesean cheese.

By this time, your soup should be hot and your popovers should be done.

Pat yourself on the back and pour yourself some iced tea.

I Grew My Dinner!

2005-09-02T17:25:00.000-07:00

Vegetables from my garden made an unprecedentedly large contribution to my dinner tonight. Let me tell you about it.

Dinner is in four parts. Part I is rice, adapted from my father's mujadara recipe, part II is a curried sweet potato dish, and part III is a salad, with (part IV) my father's dressing (can you tell who taught me to cook?). Below are the recipes, and the bolded ingredients came from my garden:

Mujadara
Chop one onion into medium chunks.
Sauté it in a saucepan big enough to cook rice in until the pieces are turning transparent.
Add 1 cup uncooked rice (I use long grain brown) and continue to sauté for about five minutes.
Add 2 cups water and treat like normal rice (cover, boil, then turn the heat way down and simmer until the water's all gone)

This is where I stopped, but to make it proper mujadara you have to do the last step

Mix in one can (or one can's worth, if you boil them yourself) green lentils, drained and rinsed.

On top of the rice I put

Curried Sweet Potatoes
Peel and cube 3 sweet potatoes and put then up to boil in a sauce pan while you go to pick things from your garden.

In a small bowl combine 1/2 - 1 tsp each of cumin and turmeric and 1/4 tsp either nutmeg or allspice (I'm not sure which I used because I have them both, in unlabelled bags, and I can never tell which is which). Add a minced hot pepper of unknown variety that grows on a plant with purple leaves and is purple until it matures, at which point it's red, seeds included, and about 1 tbsp of olive oil to make a paste.

Heat plain olive oil in a frying pan over medium heat
Add 1 tsp yellow mustard seed and wait for it to start to pop, then add
1 onion, chopped small.
Once the onions start to turn transparent or brown, as you prefer, add your spice paste and a can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed.
When the chickpeas start to warm up add one chopped poblano pepper, seeds included and sauté more.

By now the sweet potatoes should be done. Drain them and mash them in a bowl with a fork.

Add about six leaves of kale, sliced pretty small, to your frying pan. When they start to reduce you want to add your mashed sweet potato and stir constantly to prevent sticking/burning until the kale is cooked to a vivid green colour.

And that's the sweet potato curry. Now all that's left is the

Salad
Chop:
Five or six large spinach leaves
One regular tomato
One grape tomato that's actually much bigger than it has any right to be.
into bite-sized pieces.
Mix with tiny purple basil leaves in a bowl and add

Dressing
Three parts olive oil to one part balsamic vinegar (I put about 1.5 tbsp olive oil to 1.5 tsp vinegar)
.5 tsp yellow mustard seed
.5 - 1 tsp coarse sea salt

combine in a sealable container, seal, and shake the living bujeeziz out of it.

This dressing will go on any salad you please. It's soooo yummy.

So there you have it. A simple meal in four parts, two of which contain ingredients from my garden, and one of which is made up entirely from garden ingredients.

W00t!

Tapas party

2005-08-18T05:23:00.000-07:00

I've been invited to a tapas party, for which I need to bring either tapas or wine. I predict that the wine list that will be distributed will feature wines right out of my price range, so I'm seeking tapas suggestions. I've never been to a tapas party, never eaten the things, though I understand the concept. They need not be Spanish, but they do need to be small.

Go!

(Thanks.)

A find for frog

2005-08-13T16:54:00.000-07:00

When I was on my hiatus, I spent some time in the wilds of Pennsylvania, not a place I necessarily expect to happen upon a fabulous culinary find, but that just goes to show you what comes of assumptions: they get busted. And how.

Midway during my week, I was whisked away to a fantastic farmhouse and served an amazing lunch: corn on the cob purchased that morning from a nearby farm, perfectly ripe melon, a platter of sliced vegetables drizzled in oil and spices, and roasted pork from a recent pig roast that we ate slathered in homemade barbecue sauce on grilled multi-grain buns.

But the find, for me, was dessert: a platter of peaches and slices of smoked gouda. The cheese quickly became, for me, nothing more than a vehicle for aged balsamic vinegar. It was like nothing else I've eaten and I haven't stopped thinking about it yet.

I'm Bad At The Cool-Down Period

2005-08-07T17:41:00.000-07:00

I've dealt with it twice today. Over the course of yesterday and today, Dave and I made Mushroom and Spinach Stuffed Zucchini from the Low-Fat Moosewood Cookbook. We quadrupled the recipe so that there would be enough for both of us to eat them for lunch all week. Once they came out of the oven this afternoon I had to leave the room and fool myself into thinking I was busy so I wouldn't eat our lunches right away.

Then, this evening, since I have a houseguest coming tomorrow and should be cleaning the apartment, I decided to bake. I made Tracy Jorge's Oatmeal Raisin Bars. They just came out of the oven and they're sitting on the stovetop, cooling. I'm *terrible* at this moment in baking. I hate it every single time I bake. I know that if I don't wait for them to cool properly they won't hold together when I cut them into bars. I know that I'll just burn myself if I try to eat or cut them now. I know that they'll still be yummy and warm, but not scalding, if I can just wait a little bit. But it's SO HARD! The whole apartment smells like yummy and the batter was SOO GOOOD.

These bars are basically butter and sugar with enough oats and flour to hold them together. They use brown and raw cane sugars, rather than white sugar, and I'm kind of curious how that will taste and what kind of difference it will make.

You can listen to the oatmeal rasin bar recipe here or subscribe to The Vegan Cooking School's podcast here.

EDIT/UPDATE: I just wanted to say that creating this post took care of the cooldown period for me, and now I'm eating a bar and it's delicious. (Okay, so I didn't wait quite long enough, since it fell apart as I was taking it out of the pan, but still. I didn't burn myself!)
I also wanted to let you know that the baking time Jorge gives in her podcast (30 - 40 minutes) is way too long. I took these out after 20 minutes and they're already starting to get crispy at the edges.

(Cross-posted to my blog)

When desparation sets in, a good meal can sometimes result

2005-07-20T12:20:00.000-07:00

The past few weeks I've been working too much, out of town on weekends, and generally just far too busy to even think about cooking, let alone do it. This, combined with the fact that I'm saving up for a trip to Guatemala, has resulted in an almost daily panicked moment of low-blood sugar, followed desparate search of the kitchen, and concluding with a peanut butter sandwich and a general feeling of dissatisfaction.

Today would be different, I decided. Today, I would cook. Not wanting to spend money on groceries when I had a full fridge and fuller cupboard, I decided to just throw something together. This is what I came up with:

- Snap a sad and wrinkled looking piece of ginger from the back of the fridge in half, and discover it to be surprisingly fresh and pungent on the inside.

- Start a pot of the last of your brown rice boiling.

- Throw a bunch of frozen corn and string beans into a larger pot, along with a can of rinsed kidney beans. Turn the heat on medium under it.

- Mix chili powder and cumin in a dish with some water, and toss it over the corn etc.

- Pick a bunch of mini purple basil leaves from the plant in your window, chop them up, and toss them in.

- Turn the heat down under the rice.

- Grate the ginger over the growing meal in the large pot. Don't bother with a plate or anything, just hold the grater directly over the pot. It's okay if you get some corn kernels caught in the corner of the grater; they'll come off.

- Stir.

While that's heating up, take a break to feed some frozen corn to your snails, who don't seem to mind if you don't thaw their food. Watch the snails' eyestalks bend towards your hand as you reach into their tanks. Find them cute.

Rinse off the grater, cutting board and knife, and congratulate yourself on your economy of dish use, while looking around the kitchen for a clean bowl to eat out of.

By the time you find one, the corn-and-bean mixture should be ready. The rice, however, isn't. Go write a blog post about your meal while waiting for the rice to finish cooking. This will not only kill time, but also keep Frog from killing *you*. By now the rice should be done, so you should go to the kitchen, toss the rice and corn-and-bean stuff into the clean bowl you found, and eat it while you get back to work.

Blueberries.

2005-07-19T20:17:00.000-07:00

Sugar High

2005-07-15T08:16:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had a trial shift at the Bakehouse. Oh my goodness does that place smell good.

I was working the packing shift. Which means I took the beautiful cookies, brownies, etc. and wrapped and stickered them. And got to eat the broken ones and the extra pieces, and the crispy bits of caramel from the.best.brownies.ever. Oh yeah, and the imperfect candy bars, and the mis-cut brownies.

Oh how I want this job.

Because you know what they do with the broken ones? THROW THEM AWAY. Actually, regardless of whether I get this job I am going to try to work something out so they take the imperfect ones to mail order, because let me tell you, they would be appreciated.

This job, it would not be good for me, my cardiovascular health and my waistline specifically. But! the sugar!

And the creamery is next door and they brought us gelato.

Like a saturday morning scone except your target audience might just consider it inedible.

2005-07-14T09:23:00.000-07:00

Savory cheese-herb muffins

1-1/2 c. flour

1/2 c. coarse yellow polenta meal

1 Tbs. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. basil

1/4 tsp. oregano

1/4 tsp. thyme

1/4 cup melted butter

1 large egg

1 cup milk

1-1/4 cup (approx.) shredded jack cheese

2 to 2-1/2 oz. goat cheese, crumbled

Preheat oven 425 degrees F. Grease twelve muffin cups.

In a mixing bowl, combine the flour, the cornmeal, baking powder, salt and the herbs. Mix togther and add the cheese.

In another bowl, mix the melted butter, the lightly beaten egg and the milk. Add this to the flour mixture until all is moistened. Do not overmix! Batter will be lumpy!

Bake for 15-20 minutes until the tops are golden and an inserted knife comes out clean. Cool for a few minutes on a rack. Quite tasty warm. It has that nice chewy texture of a baked good made with a lot of butter and cheese.

This recipe is an attempt to replicate the Zingerman's cheddar-herb scone and is ripped off from an on-line recipe I found somewhere via google, with a few modifications. Whenever I mention that I've made a few modifications to a recipe I feel little as though I am sailing under false colors and passing myself off as someone comfortable with improvisation. Really, I'm just comfortable with being a slacker in the homemaker department.

My usual m.o. with wholesale substitution owes more to my impulsive nature (and my inability to keep a shopping list) than to any real adventuresome streak. But as is the case with being an impulsive type (like me or my resident three-year-old), you can't always count on having ingredients like cheddar to hand when the mood strikes. Perhaps the zenith of my baked good substitution jones came a number of years back when one Sunday evening I was siezed with the impulse to try my sister-in-law's recipe for biscotti, a recipe calling for anise and merlot and perhaps almonds.

And which ended up being made with caraway seed, vermouth and pistachios.

It wasn't half bad. But it wasn't exactly like what Nona used to make.

The other risks you run with substitution (see the use of goat cheese in these muffins, above) is that while you may consider the substitution a success, your resident suspicious preschool taster may very well take a look at her biscuit and ask, "What's that white stuff?"

Trust me: there is no answer to that question which will satisfy her.

frog's perfect summer supper

2005-07-01T04:13:00.000-07:00

Ingredients
Goya's Black Beans and Rice
Little bit of butter
Flour tortilla
Salsa
Sour cream
Orange Mango Peach juice
Handful of succulent local strawberries
Little bit of sugar
Fresh mint, if available

Prepare the rice and beans according to the package directions, using a little bit of butter for the oil.

Wash and de-stem the strawberries, then quarter them. Toss them with a little bit of sugar in a small bowl and set aside.

Stick a glass mug in the freezer.

When the rice and beans are nearly done, zap a flour tortilla in the microwave for 12 seconds. Spread some of the rice and beans on the tortilla, then add salsa and sour cream to taste.

Pour your juice over ice in the pre-chilled glass mug. Garnish with mint. Eat the strawberries for dessert or as a side dish--you can garnish those with some mint, too, if you want.

Sigh with delight and rejoice because you have leftovers.

Sufi-Midwestern Warm Potato Salad

2005-06-27T07:59:00.000-07:00

Adapted from a recipe found on-line which had itself evidently been taken from Kathleen Seidel's SERVING THE GUEST: A SUFI COOKBOOK (2000), though this version of the dish has been modified to reflect local ingredients (i.e., what I had in the spice cabinet, freezer, garden and fridge before we went to the party). Total time is approx. an hour, though total hands-on time is considerably less.

1/2 cup veggie oil
1 Tbs. cumin seed
pinch asafoetida
1 tsp. turmeric
1/2 tsp. cayenne (or more to taste)
2-inch piece of cinnamon bark (or a generous pinch of powdered cinnamon)
5 tsp. cumin-coriander powder (or 2 Tbs. coriander)
2 Tbs. chopped ginger (I used Laxmi brand ginger paste from a jar)
1 Tbs. salt
1/2 cup lemon juice (bottled was fine)
1 cup water
3 lbs. scrubbed red potatoes, cubed
1-1/2 cup (approx.) frozen corn
1 cup finely chopped cilantro (or less, to taste)

Heat the oil in a large, wide-bottomed pot with a lid. Over medium heat, fry the cumin seeds until they give off a nice aroma and before they crackle too much. Add a pinch of asafoetida and fry for 5-10 seconds, then sprinkle in the turmeric, cayenne, cinnamon, coriander-cumin powder, and ginger. Stir until the spices and oil are blended. Add the salt, lemon juice and water, then the potatoes. Stir, lower the heat, cover the pot and cook until the potatoes are just barely done -- say 15-20 minutes. Add more water a quarter cup at a time if absolutely needed.

Add the corn and cilantro to the pot (reserve a little cilantro for garnish). If the corn is frozen, thaw it in warm water first. Stir well and let it cook for another ten to twenty minutes -- the original recipe suggests cooking it covered then removing the lid "to allow any excess liquid to evaporate," but I found it took at least 15-20 minutes to get the water down to the consistency of a slightly goopy syrup. All that excessive spicing should give the dish a nice grainy texture.

Serve warm or at room temperature, though slightly chilled isn't so bad either. Goes pretty well with beer, though that perhaps partakes more of the Midwestern aspect of the recipe than the Sufi. And most folks would posit that I am a screen with no wires when it comes to the assessment "goes pretty well with beer."

Anyway.

Sodomy III

2005-06-19T17:38:00.000-07:00

We had our third annual sodomy bash yesterday. It was fun, but importantly for you, I am getting two new receipes to share. I will post Jane's Ginger Snap receipe as soon as I get it from here.

In the meantime, everyone needs to bug G. to post his potato salad receipe. It was very, very good. But don't just take my word for it: everyone else at the party mentioned how great it was.

So, next time you have a party, invite G. It wasn't even a potluck and he brought food.

Sharon's Coconut Sorbet

2005-06-03T07:02:00.000-07:00

Know it. Eat it. Love it.

What I ate right before the softball game

2005-05-17T19:33:00.000-07:00

Chocolate Guinness Cake
Recipe by Nigella Lawson in The New York Times
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes

For the cake:
Butter for the pan
1 cup Guinness stout
10 tablespoons butter (1 stick plus 2 tablespoons)
¾ cup unsweetened cocoa
2 cups sugar
¾ cup sour cream
2 large eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
2½ teaspoons baking soda

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch springform pan. In a large sauce pan, combine the Guinness and butter. Place over medium-low heat until butter melts, then remove from heat. Add cocoa and sugar. Whisk to blend.

In a small bowl, combine sour cream, eggs, and vanilla; mix well. Add to Guinness mixture. Add flour and baking soda, and whisk again until smooth. Pour into buttered pan, and bake until risen and firm, 45 to 60 minutes. Place pan on wire rack and cool completely in pan.

For the frosting:
1¼ cups confectioners’ sugar
8 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
½ cup heavy cream
1/4 tsp vanilla

Put the powdered sugar in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to break up clumps. Add cream cheese and blend until smooth. Add cream and mix until smooth and spreadable.

Remove cake from pan and place on platter or cake stand. Frost top of cake only (so it resembles a frothy pint of Guinness).

Yield: One 9-inch cake (10-12 servings)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
You will not regret making this. It is especially good with port. However, I would recommend a little more than 15 minutes between scarfing down a piece and any physical activity.

When Making a Jail Break Over the Back Fence, Remember to Bring the Warden Back Some Flowers.

2005-04-18T19:39:00.000-07:00

From Alex:

Jambo!

It's 77° and sunny here in Suburban Heck, and as you can see, we are right in the middle of the first pool party of the year, a party that is certain to end badly for someone at some point, when the pool will be shut down as a punishment for something or other. For right now, though, things are swinging:

It is time to start making the African Ginger Soft Drink that I like that nobody else in the family does, but it is so totally NOT ABOUT THEM. In sub-Saharan Africa, everybody makes their own version of this, versions most likely better than mine, but if you've never tried the Ginger Soft Drink before, you're stuck with me.

This recipe makes 3 quarts of concentrate, to be mixed with soda water* or Perrier or regular water or don't dilute it at all and see if I care. If you can't live your life without a garnish in your beverage, you're probably an alcoholic. The next time your bartender turns her back on you to answer the phone, lunge over the bar and root wildly through her garnish tray with your filthy hands and steal some lemon or lime wedges. Bartenders love it when you do that.

6 Cups boiling water

1 Cup grated fresh peeled ginger root (this means 3 or 4 big chunks of ginger, the peeling and grating of which is tedious and annoying. But the rest is easy, so it balances out.)

1 Cup sugar

2 teaspoons whole cloves

4 cinnamon sticks

1/2 Cup lime or lemon juice

1 Cup orange juice (or pineapple, or guava)

8 Cups cool water

*Pour the boiling water over the grated ginger root, sugar, cloves, and cinnamon in a large pot or bowl. Stir. Cover and let sit in the sun for an hour.

*Strain the liquid through a fine sieve or cheesecloth. Add the juices and water. Throw all that grated ginger your worked so hard on into the garbage. Let the mixture sit for another hour. Store in fridge.
____________________________
*What is the difference between selzer water and club soda? Anything? I have no idea.

Kale never appeared

2005-04-18T10:58:00.000-07:00

Favorite food to crunch: croutons
Favorite comfort food: lightly salted/peppered fresh mozzarella slices
Food that makes the best noise: fajitas
Favorite picnic lunch: tomatillo salsa, corn chips, hard boiled eggs, pickles, spring water from an actual spring
Favorite food scene in movie: Peppermint clit from Girl, Interrupted
Favorite food lyrics: 'eggs and toast like bread and wine' --Carrie Newcomer
Best food smell memory: popcorn with nutritional yeast while reading books outside on a blanket
Favorite summer snack: beer
Food that reminds me of the ocean: lobster, even though I no longer eat it
Favorite winter snack: bruschetta
Most likely to eat for lunch: yogurt, bread, and cheese
Least likely to eat for lunch: steak?
Makes me gag: tapioca
Favorite wild foods: dandelion greens
Favorite medicinal food: green tea
Foods that reflect my heritage: nisua
Food most like me: Morningstar Farms buffalo veggie wings--so good and yet so spicy I can't always handle them
Favorite raw food smell: garlic

I enjoy a good survey

2005-04-18T07:53:00.000-07:00

Favorite food to crunch: Popcorn

Favorite comfort food: Brownies. Or yeah, homemade macaroni and cheese. I can’t eat the stuff from the box.

Food that makes the best noise: A good crisp apple, preferably Fujis.

Favorite picnic lunch: Cheese, fruit, wine, good bread, roasted reds, olives, dried figs, almonds, a tray of "Nana bake," a cold salad of some sort…

Favorite food scene in movie: “Big Night," the scene where Primo has a fit because a customer who ordered the risotto wants a side of pasta with it. He feels that there are rules as to what you eat with what, and I get that.

Favorite food lyrics: “Try an enchilada with the fishy baccala!”

Best food smell memory: N/A

Favorite summer snack: Watermelon. I can eat it by the pound.

Food that reminds me of the ocean: Probably MrP’s sangria.

Favorite winter snack: Toast with peanut butter and a banana, hot buttered rum, hot chocolate with a healthy pinch of cayenne (that’ll warm your bones!)

Most likely to eat for lunch: Leftovers from dinner the night before.

Least likely to eat for lunch: Takeout.

Makes me gag: Um, not much. Undercooked fried eggs are pretty yuck, though. When the whites aren’t set? Pleh.

Favorite wild foods: Berries picked off the bush. One goes in the basket, one goes in my mouth, one goes in the basket, one goes in my mouth…

Favorite medicinal food: Pastina soup with lemon, homemade chicken stock, and tons of garlic. Or, rice congee (see recipe below).

Foods that reflect my heritage: Nana’s gnocchis, with the most fabulous, mouth-watering sauce, made with meatballs, sausage, and pork chops from a few nights ago. Fried zucchini flowers from Nana’s garden, good bread from the bakery where you walked right into the kitchen after church and bought it hot from the oven, ricotta pie, coveted homemade wine (called “dago red” back home), and plums that Pap has to have.

Food most like me: Pecorino Tuscano – it’s salty, semi-firm, and Italian, just like me.

Favorite raw food smell: N/A

Frog's Wish=My Command Too

2005-04-17T18:11:00.000-07:00

Okay, frog, you asked for it! :)

Favorite food to crunch: Heath bar.
Favorite comfort food: Pasta.
Food that makes the best noise: Cereal?
Favorite picnic lunch: I don't go on picnics, but I guess fried chicken would be good for this.
Favorite food scene in movie: I don't go to a lot of movies either, but I just saw the dinner scene in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers this morning, and that tickled me all over again.
Favorite food lyrics: Nillson's Lime in the Coconut, currently being massacred by Coke.
Best food smell memory: Hot dogs at Coney Island.
Favorite summer snack: See above.
Food that reminds me of the ocean: And again.
Favorite winter snack: Ama-ebi!
Most likely to eat for lunch: Nowadays, probably a Lean Cuisine.
Least likely to eat for lunch: I miss the salad buffets from Manhattan...
Makes me gag: Lima beans.
Favorite wild foods: I wouldn't know wild from tame. Mushrooms?
Favorite medicinal food: I don't eat medicinal food, so I'll say tea.
Foods that reflect my heritage: Bagels and lox, gefilte fish, matzoh, knishes, latkes.
Food most like me: Probably latkes (potato pancakes).
Favorite raw food smell: Garlic

Frog's wish=my command

2005-04-17T17:28:00.000-07:00

Favorite food to crunch: raw potatoes
Favorite comfort food: oh so many...mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, plain pasta, frosted sugar cookies... pretty much anything that comes in carbohydrate form
Food that makes the best noise: sizzling bacon
Favorite picnic lunch: fruit, bread, cheese, pasta salad
Favorite food scene in movie: Thanksgiving in Pieces of April is the first thing that comes to mind
Favorite food lyrics:

the butter melts out of habit
the toast isn't even warm
the waitress and the man in the plaid shirt
play out a scene they've played
so many times before
i am watching the sun stumble home in the morning
from a bar on the east side of town
and the coffee is just water dressed in brown
-Ani

Best food smell memory: my Mom's homemade doughnuts frying
Favorite summer snack: pretty much any form of popsicle, strawberries
Food that reminds me of the ocean: saltwater taffy, clam chowder
Favorite winter snack: again with the starch...
Most likely to eat for lunch: Gardenburger, fries, Pepsi
Least likely to eat for lunch: entrees from the cafeteria at work
Makes me gag: borsht
Favorite wild foods: berries of all kinds
Favorite medicinal food: udon
Foods that reflect my heritage: salmon, fried smelt, vinegar-wilted lettuce
Food most like me: pickles
Favorite raw food smell: grapefruit

Food meme

2005-04-12T19:34:00.000-07:00

I think all of the KWF cooks should do this…
Favorite food to crunch: Chips
Favorite comfort food: Double Stuff Oreos
Food that makes the best noise: Popcorn
Favorite picnic lunch: brie, sweet italian bread, frozen grapes, and lemonade
Favorite food scene in movie: I can’t decide. Tell me yours in the comments instead.
Favorite food lyrics: I don’t know if it was real or in a dream/lately waking up I’m not sure where I’ve been/there was a table set for six and five were there/I stood outside and kept my eyes upon that empty chair/there was steam on the windows from the kitchen/laughter like a language I once spoke with ease/and I’m made mute by the virtue of decision/and I choose most of your life goes on without me —Emily Saliers
Best food smell memory: deep-fried cheese curds at the fair
Favorite summer snack: watermelon
Food that reminds me of the ocean: juice boxes
Favorite winter snack: macho nachos
Most likely to eat for lunch: sandwich, chips, and a Dew. Or leftovers.
Least likely to eat for lunch: Frozen entrée.
Makes me gag: cilantro
Favorite wild foods: raspberries
Favorite medicinal food: I think Oreos are medicinal…but my real answer is tea.
Foods that reflect my heritage: cabbage rolls, potato pancakes, pasties, and cheese. Not all at once.
Food most like me: pineapple
Favorite raw food smell: citrus

From PPB.

Nuevo Hobo Dinner

2005-03-31T17:56:00.000-08:00

Saute green onions leftover from Easter dinner
Add can of white beans bought on sale at the co-op
Toss in rest of last summer's pesto
Chop and add sun-dried tomatoes that your father-in-law gave you when he cleaned out his pantry which you soaked since you had hot water left from tea
Stir.
Add a splash of vermouth that you bought while obsessed with Julia Child
Grate aged provolone cheese (from Italy) bought while on a cheese binge at Trader Joe's.
Sprinkle over top.

Serve with fancy bread bought for 50 cents because Zingerman's was reducing inventory

Optional: Serve kale which needs to be cooked tonight before it rots on the side.

Get thee to the store

2005-03-27T17:04:00.000-08:00

Lent is over. Go buy some Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Therapy. Right now.

You can thank me later.

Rice Congee for Frog

2005-03-11T06:31:00.000-08:00

A little background I found on the dish:

"Unlike [in the U.S.], where there are specific foods identified with the morning meal, [in Asia] the distinction between what is eaten at breakfast, lunch or dinner is not as clear.

Often, breakfast is a mini-version of lunch or dinner, and among farmers and laborers, it is just as substantial as any other meal of the day. When I was growing up, leftovers from the evening before plus one or two simple, newly cooked dishes served with rice made a satisfying morning meal before the family headed off for school and office.

...

But if I had to name just one food most closely associated with breakfast, the most likely candidate would probably be rice congee. The soupy rice mixture is made either plain and served with a variety of salty, pickled and stir-fried dishes; or chicken, pork, fish or shrimp can be cooked in with the soup and flavored with garlic, ginger, scallions and cilantro.

To make congee, rice is boiled in lots of water or broth until the grains have grown many times their size and are still swimming in excess fluid. The grains may also be cooked down until they completely disintegrate and become the texture of creamy rice cereal. Made either way, congee is very nutritious and highly recommended for people suffering from fatigue, digestive problems and illness. It is easy to digest and contains nutrients in ready form to be absorbed and used, thereby enabling quick revitalization of the body. What better way to "break" the "fast" of the night and begin a new day of productive activity than to partake of a vitalizing bowl of steaming rice soup!"

Chicken Rice Congee

This is written for a stovetop, but it also works very well in a crockpot.

Ingredients
8 cups good, unsalted chicken stock (this is when I use the homemade, thick with gelatin)
1 cup rice
4 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon grated ginger
1 tablespoon soy sauce, to taste
salt and pepper to taste

Optional
2 cups cooked chicken, shredded or chopped
½ cup (fresh, or dried and reconstituted) shitake mushrooms, sliced

Possible Garnishes
fresh coriander leaves
shredded lettuce
green onions, chopped
hard cooked eggs, or cooked omleet-style and cut into strips
hot pepper flakes
sesame oil
additional soy sauce

Bring chicken stock to a boil, add the rice, garlic, and ginger and the garlic, reduce the heat and simmer for approx 2 hours until the grains break down but not completely disintegrate, stir occasionally.

Add the chicken or mushrooms, and cook for two minutes.

Taste the soup and add soy, salt and pepper to taste.

Serve in bowls, drizzled with sesame oil. Makes 4-6 servings.

Call for input

2005-03-04T05:16:00.000-08:00

I hate breakfast. I really, really do. It used to be that I needed to eat something before I could leave the house, but that's not really the case any longer. I know that I should and, most days, I manage to do it.

Here's the problem: things that I used to be able to tolerate first thing in the morning? Not so much, anymore. I'm down to about half a cup of dry cereal in a little bit of milk. When I get to work, I eat some nuts (usually cashews) with my morning caffeine.

I need some suggestions for quick, easy breakfast items that include some protein. I can't eat eggs most days, and can't cope with the consistency of yogurt first thing in the morning.

What do you eat in the morning when nothing sounds good?

Comfort food, take 97

2005-02-21T04:09:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a wintry, grey day. It snowed, it rained, it was cold. I napped and decided to cook something for dinner that would make me feel safe—meat loaf, corn, baked potatoes. The best thing about my meat loaf recipe is that it’s easily adaptable—it’s really just guidelines. The second best thing is how I got it—when I moved into my first off-campus housing, the women who’d rented the space before us left us a recipe box full of their tried and true recipes.

Midway through the afternoon, a long-time friend called. She was having a similar day, both weather-wise and food-wise, and she wanted to make a pumpkin pie, but didn’t feel like making a crust and didn’t have one in the house. “What I really need is a good pumpkin bar recipe!” Which I had, and now you’ll have it, too.

Frog’s meat loaf recipe
1 pound hamburger
3 slices bread, crumbled
½ c. milk
1 beaten egg
½ tsp dry mustard
1 tsp sage
1 tsp allspice
1 tbsp worc. sauce
1 can cream of mushroom soup (or tomato, or whatever sounds good)
salt and pepper

Combine everything, put it in a loaf pan, and bake at 350 for one hour.

(Note that the original recipe calls for the soup to be poured over everything--I mix it in, because I like my meatloaf very soft and not all that loaf-like. YMMV.)

Pumpkin bars
4 eggs
1 c. oil
2 c. sugar
1 15 oz can pumpkin
2 c. flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
1 ½ tsp pumpkin pie spice

Mix oil, eggs, sugar, and pumpkin. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Pour into jelly-roll pan (or cookie sheet with sides). Bake at 350 for 25 minutes (start checking at 15 minutes). Frost with cream cheese frosting.

Pan Forte

2005-02-09T06:54:00.000-08:00

I should probably have posted this closer to Christmas, but... well. Expect an Easter bread recipe sometime in June.

It is a bit of a production, but so worth the effort. The recipe says it serves 12-20, but I tend to cut into 1 or 2" squares, and I wind up with a lot.

ETA: There's a lovely little story about the origins of this treat on About.com, here.

Pan Forte
1¼ cups whole unblanched almonds - (6 oz)
1½ cups whole unblanched hazelnuts - (6 oz)
1 Tsp cinnamon, ground
¾ Tsp ginger, ground
¼ Tsp cloves, ground
¼ Tsp freshly-grated nutmeg
1 Tsp freshly-ground black pepper
1 cup + 2 Tbl unbleached all-purpose flour
1 Tbl unsweetened cocoa powder, plus extra for dusting
1¼ pounds dried fruits, preferably organic, any combination of black currants, white or black-raisins, black mission figs, white figs, sour cherries, plums, prunes, pears, peaches, nectarines, cranberries, apricots, and candied ginger. (Note: For an authentic Italian pan forte, choose things like figs, dates, apricots, maybe prunes, etc.)

2/3 cup mild-flavored honey, such as clover
1 cup granulated sugar

=== SPECIAL ITEMS ===
1 candy thermometer
1 nine-inch cake ring *
1 sheet rice paper (Note: I've never used it. Not once. Couldn't begin to tell you where to find it. Go with the parchment, below)

*Note: Or several 4-inch flan rings placed on parchment-lined baking sheet, generously coated with melted butter and dusted with unsweetened cocoa powder

Place the ring or mold over the sheet of rice paper on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Adjust the oven rack to the middle position and preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

Spread the nuts on a baking sheet in 2 separate piles, and toast in the oven until lightly browned, about 10 to 15 minutes. Shake the pans halfway through to ensure that the nuts toast evenly. Allow to cool a few minutes. Gather the hazelnuts into a kitchen towel and rub them together to remove the skins. Turn the oven down to 300 degrees.

In a large bowl combine the nuts with the cinnamon, ginger, cloves, nutmeg, pepper, flour, and cocoa powder. Cut the fruit into 1/2-inch pieces and toss with the nut mixture.

In a small saucepan, stir together the honey and sugar. Over high heat, bring to a boil without stirring. Using a pastry brush dipped in water, brush the sides of the pan to remove any undissolved sugar granules. Cook until the sugar reaches 224 to 240 degrees (soft ball stage) on a candy thermometer. Remove from the heat and pour into the fruit mixture. Stir to combine as well as possible. The mixture will be very thick and sticky (Note: and hot as all hell).

Dip your hands in water and press the fruit mixture evenly into the pan. Bake for 1 hour, until the top is slightly puffed and the surface is matte. Remove from the oven and cool completely in the pan. Trim the rice paper around the edge of the mold. Store at room temperature, wrapped tightly in plastic wrap, for several weeks.

This recipe yields 12 to 20 slices.

Kitten Stew!

2005-01-25T19:54:00.000-08:00

So tender. Like veal.

Love,

Frog

Happy birthday, flea!

2005-01-21T05:29:00.000-08:00

2005-01-13T13:23:00.000-08:00

Alla Famiglia!

2005-01-04T14:06:00.000-08:00

Hello, everyone! This is my A #1 first post, so I thought I’d introduce myself with one of the oldest recipes in my family, and a longtime favorite.

My ancestry is southern Italian (Calabria & Basilicata) and Sicilian, so I grew up with pasta, sauce, and things that can be cooked with or served on pasta and sauce. We were not terribly adventurous, admittedly, so until I was grown my knowledge of pasta was limited to what I think of now as “the standards” – ziti, spaghetti, rigatoni, angel hair, macaroni, and pastina.

I took an interest in food and cooking at a very young age. Before I was able to use the stove I experimented with making eggs in the microwave – this was when microwaves were still a novelty. As soon as I was allowed to use a knife I made lovingly arranged vegetable trays. I couldn’t get enough of radish roses, celery bowties, black olive rabbits, etc. In high school, it was my job to get dinner started when I got home from school, before my mother came home from work. This evolved over the years from taking things out of the freezer and peeling potatoes to preparing roasts and starting the sauce. In college I would make whole chickens, make lasagnas, and find myself begging friends to join me because I lived alone. (Not that actual begging was required, mind you…)

So anyway. I’m going to try to post a recipe for Wedding Soup. It actually has nothing to do with weddings, and I don’t know that I’ve ever been a wedding where it was served. The name comes from minestra maritata, which roughly translates to “married soup,” and refers to the way the flavors in the soup marry.

Please keep in mind, all measurements are approximate at best. Yum. I can eat this stuff by the gallon.

Wedding Soup
Serves: an army

For the soup:
12 c. chicken broth
1 cup chicken, cooked – 1-2 breasts, or 4 thighs (optional)
3-4 bunches escarole, cleaned and torn*
1 cup pastina

Meatballs
1 lb. ground beef
Salt and pepper
Bread crumbs
Romano cheese
Oregano

For the topping:
3-4 eggs
Salt and pepper
¾ cup Romano cheese, grated

Put chicken broth in a big soup pot and set it to simmer. (If you’re using chicken, add it now. If it’s raw, allow it to cook, remove and set aside to cool. Once it’s cooled, shred it and add it back to the soup.)

Wash escarole thoroughly. Place it while moist in a covered saucepan and cook about 6 minutes or until almost tender; drain and add to chicken broth. (I like to cook it right in the broth; my mother insists this makes the broth bitter. I don’t mind a little bitterness.)

Combine ingredients for meatballs, and roll into small balls – the size of a marble, maybe a teensy bit bigger. Bake or fry until browned, drain and add to the broth. (I also cook these in the broth, but it will add to the fat content of the soup.)

Bring soup to low boil. Add pastina and stir.

In a bowl, thoroughly combine eggs, pepper to taste, and Romano cheese. The texture should be somewhere between pancake and crepe batter. Once soup is at a low boil after adding the pastina, pour to the pot in a thin stream. It should cook and begin to separate almost immediately. Stir.

Once the pastina is cooked, it’s done!

*Oh, you'll find other recipes that call for spinach. Ignore them.

Cookie exchange

2004-12-22T10:03:00.000-08:00

Here's what I make every year for the holidays:

Spritz
Cornflake Wreaths
Snickerdoodles
Peanut-butter Blossoms
Ginger Snaps

What do you make? Is baking part of your tradition?

If you want my recipe for any of the above, email me at frogblogger at gmail dot com and I'll send it out. Note that I'll be offline until 1/3/05.

Happy New Year!

Fatty fatty goodness.

2004-12-09T07:51:00.000-08:00

A salami sandwich, made with herb-encrusted salami on a buttered baguette.

That faint wheezing sound is my left ventricle, making its pro forma protest after yesterday's lunch.

Anyway: guilty pleasures, non-sweets division. What's yours?

The Devil You Say!

2004-12-03T09:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I turned 47, but I'm still pretty much a novice cook. Oh, I can follow recipes okay, but I don't have the intuition or smarts or whatever that accompanies years of trial-and-error. My first husband used to be a short-order cook so he had all the basics down, and he got the basics-cookbook in the divorce. So I'm a bit slow on the uptake. For instance, just last week I finally hard-boiled eggs correctly for the first time ever. I'm serious; I didn't actually know that you had to put them in the pot and cover them with cold water and then boil for 5 minutes before removing from the flame and letting them cool until I heard Emeril mention it as a by-the-way on one of his shows. (And no, even if I'd thought of it I couldn't have looked up "hard-boiled eggs" on the Food Network; click the link from this page to find out why.)

So fine, I hard-boiled the eggs, and learned my first lesson in basics in awhile (the lesson prior, from sometime last month, was that if you microwave potatoes for about 7 minutes they're set as the base for hash-browns, and you give 'em 10 minutes for being fully baked and/or ready to mash), and was able to repeat the process this week. As Robin is in the middle of dental work and we've been stocking up on softer foods, I picked up a couple avocados earlier in the week (I'm on vacation most of this week and actually have the time and inclination to cook), but when I bought them I didn't realize I was supposed to buy less-than-dark ones 'cause the dark ones you need to use pretty quickly. Lesson #2. (See what I mean about not even knowing the basics?) So anyway, I wondered if I could do something with both the eggs and avocados. And AllRecipes had an interesting recipe for guacamole deviled eggs that I thought would do nicely. But first I had to buy cilantro.

Fortunately, the veggie place a short drive away labels its herbs, so it was that I found out "oh, cilantro is the thing I always taste in Thai food that I could never identify!" Lesson #3! Oh, it's easy enough to say "know thy herbs" and present pictures and have them labelled, but it doesn't really mean anything until I put that together with what they taste like and what I've had them in and then something clicks and I have an "aha!" moment. So, cilantro. Which smells great on your fingers after you've cut it, by the way.

Okay, so I start making the recipe, the ingredients for which are basically:

4 hard-boiled eggs

2 avocados, smushed

1 tablespoon each of chopped cilantro and minced scallion

Juice of one lime (the recipe says 1 teaspoon but whatever)

½ teaspoon salt, or to taste

Dash of hot sauce

1 teaspoon each of Worcestershire sauce and Dijon mustard

Paprika for the final touch
(It also calls for 2 tablespoons of jalapeno, but, you know, no thanks...)

And I know how to do the avocado thing (slicing, removing pit, spooning out), that's pretty easy. But Robin comes into the kitchen just as I'm slicing the eggs in half to remove the yolks and mix them in with the smushed avocados, and he goes "No, you don't cut them across, you cut them lengthwise just like with the avocados!" Duh! Lesson #4, learned a little too late. Next time I'll know how to cut hard-boiled eggs. I bet it'll be easier to remove the yolks too!

Anyway, so the next thing is to cut up the cilantro and scallions and dump the minced stuff in with the avocados and yolks, and I learned Lesson #5 then. I finally bought a chef's knife a couple months ago, and because it's larger than the veggie knives I've used for most of my cooking life I've had to adjust to it, like working on larger cutting boards, not chopping off bits of finger, etc. And today I learned that if I move the stuff I'm chopping to the middle of the board from the sides instead of from the top and bottom, it minces better 'cause it piles up better making it easier for the knife to get it all into tinier pieces.

Nothing learned via the rest of the recipe (which is just stirring in the lime juice then the other ingredients, and sprinkling on the paprika right before gobbling it down), except that it tasted fantastic and my egg-cutting mistake was mostly just a cosmetic one. But, you know, sometimes I wish I just knew all this stuff from instinct. Wish me luck on our belated Thanksgiving feast, on which I'm about to start in a couple of hours...

2004-11-29T09:07:00.000-08:00

Banou’s Birthday Carrots
1 ½ pounds carrots, peeled (chopping optional)
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp water
10 garlic cloves, skins on
A bunch of fresh thyme

Toss the carrots with the oil. Salt and pepper generously. Add the garlic cloves and several sprigs of thyme. Put everything in an ample pan, add the water, and seal it with foil. Roast in a 400 oven for about 25 minutes, checking every 10 or so to make sure you still have liquid and to give the pan a shake. Once the carrots are near tender, take off the foil and roast until the liquid is mostly gone and the carrots are brown. Garnish with more thyme sprigs.

I doubled the recipe (and chopped them into medium-sized chunks) and had almost enough to feed 11 adults and 5 kids as a side. These are really, really good, and incredibly easy. Make more than you think you want to eat.

This is a Deborah Madison recipe. She calls it something else.

Giving Thanks For My Own Personal Ralph Nader.

2004-11-28T13:53:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, mostly because there is so little to say about it. If you cook Thanksgiving dinner, you spend all morning and most of the afternoon in the kitchen, if you don't, you spend it in front of the tv, if you're somebody's 65-year-old dad, you helpfully stick your nose into the kitchen every 20 minutes to ask if the turkey is done yet, thinking, perhaps, that women have some magical flesh-burning power that enables us to instantly elevate organic tissue to 180°F whenever we want, but choose not to because WE WANT MEN TO GO HUNGRY.

Several years ago my friend Toby and I were making Thanksgiving dinner for Toby, her parents, her brothers, Toby's partner Mary, Mary's mother and aunts, and Steve. Everyone was content to sit in the living room with the game on, eating hors d'oeuvres and talking, except for Toby's father who began to nag us like clockwork, three times an hour.

"Is the turkey ready yet?" "Well, when do you think it will be done?" "Is it ready yet?" "I'm really hungry." "I really need to eat." Hey! Old man! Hors d'oeuvres! Canapes! Petit-fours! Whatever French word for "put this in your mouth and shut up" works for you!

Toby was unable to yell at her father, and kept reassuring him that the turkey would be served as soon as it was fully cooked. Small lines formed around the sides of her mouth after about the fifth query, pulling them down into a tight-lipped frown. Sweat began to bead at her temples. She ceased speaking, and ceased making eye contact. We began to speak to each other only about the food, and then only out of necessity.

And the turkey would not cook. And would not cook. And would not cook. The juices were running blood red after 6 hours in the oven. Relations between the cooks and the rest of the party were getting strained. Mary had run out of party tricks and could no longer restrain the natives. Toby was hunched over the stove, doing what can only be described as angry stirring. Finally, Mary poked her head in the kitchen.

"Um, hon? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Toby could not yell at her father. She would not yell at me, her only help for the past two days. But she could kill the shit out of this messenger, no matter how gently and politely the message was delivered.

"Is there anything you can do to help? Hmmm....Yes. Yes there is. You can GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY KITCHEN BEFORE I KILL YOU!!!"

Mary blinked. "Okay...." she murmured, then backed slowly away. The door swung shut. The kitchen was silent except for the whisk whisk whisk of the wooden spoon swirling the green beans.

Ooooh, I thought, somebody's going to need an apology later on.

And Mary did get one for bearing the brunt of Toby's misplaced anger, but only after the turkey finally cooked, Toby's father was pacified by forkfuls of turkey with mushroom gravy, and Toby was sitting down with a beer.

For the past few years, I've only had to cook for my own immediate family, which in the past has not been bad, but is getting worse as the boys have decided that if it ain't peanut butter and jelly, it ain't shit. This year I swore I wasn't going to have Thanksgiving dictated to me by people with such ridiculously limited palates, but after cooking for two days only to be told the food tasted like ass, I'm seriously thinking about ordering Chinese food next year.

But damn it, I thought it was good, at least, and even with two kids and a full time job I managed to cook the entire meal from scratch and got it all on the table by three.

I bought the turkey at Whole Foods, mostly because Eric Schlosser scared the shit out of us. I went shopping Sunday after work and picked up the turkey, along with some other stuff I didn't think I could get at Jewel.

I needed maple extract for the cranberry sauce. I had never heard of maple extract before, but assumed it was similar to vanilla extract. I found "maple flavor", which was probably a good enough substitute, but I asked an employee just to make sure. He was about 20 years old, and was kneeling in front of the spices.

He paused and looked at the bottle of maple flavoring for a moment. Then he stood up and morphed into, I swear, Al Pacino at the end of the Godfather when he tells Diane Keaton that he didn't kill Connie's husband Carlo.

"Excuse me, is maple flavor a substitute for maple extract?"

"Ma'am, it is the exact same thing."

"Just this once, Kay, I'll let you ask me about my business."

"Is it true, Michael? Is it true?"

"No."

I know this is supposed to be the greatest guy film ever, but I promise you, women have seen it, too! And we know Michael was lying! We know it!

But there was something about that "I will not be argued with" tone the little punk took with me that did, briefly, make me want to shut up and agree. (Oh, Michael! Big hug!) Until it pissed me off, anyway, but being the nonconfrontational wuss that I am, I was about to let it go when an older woman, a grandmotherly type of about 60, appeared at my elbow.

"You're not telling the truth!" she declared. (She must have seen the movie, too.)

"You know, young man, if you don't know the answer to something, it's all right to say you don't know. There's no need to lie to people just to make yourself look better. Maple "flavor" implies artifical additives, while maple "extract" implies a more natural substance extracted from the syrup. And she didn't ask if it was the same thing, she asked if she could substitute it. There's no need to be snotty just because she asked you something you can't answer."

Then she turned to me.

"Dear, it's only an adequate substitute if you're not trying to make an all-natural dish. If you're just going for flavor, it should be fine. Now, you can tell me if I can substitue maple syrup for white sugar."

This woman would have made a lousy mafia wife, but a pretty kick-ass consumer advocate, if you ask me.

The maple flavoring turned out to be just fine.

Cranberry Sauce with Maple Flavoring

2 12-oz bags of fresh cranberries
1 1/2 cups maple syrup
1/2 C water
1/2 t cinammon
1 C brown sugar
3/4 t maple flavoring or maple extract. Or just leave it out. I don't think it matters.

Put it all in a medium non-stick saucepan and cook it over medium heat until the berries pop, about 12 minutes. Stir frequently. Transfer to bowl. Cool completely. (Can be made 5 days in advance. Cover, chill.)

2004-11-24T21:07:00.000-08:00

Midnight applesauce
Not really. It’s actually called “ginger applesauce” but, given the time that I started it tonight, “midnight applesauce” seems more appropriate.

Happy Thanksgiving (well, in my time zone, anyway)!

10 tart, firm apples (Cortland, Granny Smith, etc.), peeled, cored, and chopped
1 c. apple cider
2-3 cinnamon sticks
1 ½ tsp. lemon zest
¼ c. light brown sugar
¼ tsp. ground nutmeg
1 ½ tbsp. finely chopped ginger

Put apples in large saucepan and add cider, cinnamon, and lemon zest. Simmer over medium heat 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove cinnamon sticks. Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger and cook until thick, 5-10 minutes.

2004-11-23T05:01:00.000-08:00

Mama Mia’s Stuffing
In 1992, I spent my first Thanksgiving with someone other than my family of origin. Toad and I traveled to visit her sister and her sister’s partner. We had to drive through a raging blizzard to get there, and a trip that usually takes about 8 hours took us about twice that long. The first time I met this particular sister was when toad and I were standing in the kitchen at 2 a.m., trying to get the microwave to work so we could have some dinner. You don't realize how loud those beeps are until you're wrestling with someone else's microwave oven in the still of the night.

This is the stuffing that they made for that Thanksgiving, and it’s the one that I’ve made ever since then, whenever I have reason to make stuffing. It become veg pretty easily (I just drop the sausage, liver, and heart, and use no-chicken broth). I don’t actually stuff the turkey with it, but only because I’ve never cooked the turkey—the first year we had it, part was stuffed into the bird, part was cooked alongside.

Thanksgiving 2003 was the first that I didn’t spend with toad. I didn’t cook, and I’m not cooking this year, either, so it will be a while before I make this again. Maybe I’ll make it for Christmas dinner.

6 links sweet Italian sausage, out of casings and crumbled
Turkey liver and heart, diced
2 large onions, chopped fine
½ bunch celery with leaves, chopped fine
10-12 parsley sprigs, chopped fine
1 loaf stuffing bread, stale, no crusts
1 pkg stuffing cubes (for 7-pound bird)
¼ lb. pine nuts
1-2 cups chicken stock
2 large eggs, slightly beaten
1 tsp. thyme
1 tsp. sage
1 tsp. basil

In large skillet, sauté meats in 1 stick butter, and a little bit of oil. Add vegis and spices, and sauté until soft (about 10 minutes). Remove from heat to add bread and stuffing mix. Keep light and fluffy. Fold in pine nuts.

Add stock gradually, then eggs.

Cook in buttered casserole for one hour.

2004-11-16T14:09:00.000-08:00

Fryers v. Roasters
Chickens. What's the difference? Discuss.

Work That Creativity!

2004-11-10T13:36:00.000-08:00

I love when I cook by smell and feel. It's the best feeling, to make up a recipe from scratch, based on years of experience as both a cook and a consumer. Anyway, this recipe isn't an especially innovative one, it's really just an old standby, but with a couple twists. For it, you'll need:

Collard greens* - 1 bunch
Tofu - 1 block
Udon noodles, fresh - 3 or 4 packs.
Butternut squash - 1 small one (the one I used was about 1.5lbs)
olive oil - some
soy sauce - lots
ginger - 1 shitload
garlic - 1 shitload

Now if, like me, you live in a barren wasteland where collard greens are incredibly hard to find, you can easily substitute another dark green, bitter, leafy vegetable (I would recommend chard, then kale. I don't think spinach would work). I actually came across collard greens this weekend, which is where the inspiration for the recipe came from, so I got to use them. w00t.

Basically, I had my standard stir-fry recipe in mind, but the only vegetable that was going in was the greens. I needed to add something, but I wasn't sure what. As I wandered the aisles of the grocery store, my eyes fell on the squash. "Mmmmm, squash," I thought to myself, "I should make something with that.
"Heeeyy," it suddenly dawned on me. "What if I put some squash in my stirfry?" I didn't have a moment of doubt. Squash it was. So I bought the squash and was on my merry way.

Here's what you do:

Step 1 - Marinade the tofu (nice, but not entirely necessary):
- chop up about an inch cubed of ginger so that it's super small. Fill a small saucepan with water, add the ginger and bring it to a boil. Let it simmer for a while (10 minutes or so, I dunno, until it smells strongly gingery and the water is vaguely coloured).
- dice the tofu. You can even cut it into smaller pieces (1/2 cm on a side).
- put the chopped up tofu into a bowl (preferably one with a lid) , pour a few tablespoons of soy sauce over the tofu and toss (or, if your bowl has a lid, close the lid and shake) until all the pieces are coated.
- pour your ginger water (with the ginger pieces still in there) into the bowl until the tofu is covered. Stir. Let sit anywhere from 30min to 24hrs, but not longer.

Step 2 - Everything else (very necessary):
- peel, core, and dice the squash. Bring a large pot of water to boil and parboil the squash for not more than 5-7 minutes. It should be not-quite done.
- wash the greens and tear them into reasonably-sized pieces.
- mince a shitload of ginger and garlic
- heat some olive oil in a wok or very large frying pan until it's warm but not too hot.
- add your shitloads of ginger and garlic and stir until they start to cook, but try not to let them brown.
- pour the marinading tofu into a strainer to get rid of the water, then add the tofu to the pan. Stir for a bit.
- Drain the squash and add it and the greens. Stir more.
- There should be some liquid in the bottom of the pan. If there isn't, add some water. Now add your noodles. Stir, fold, etc, rather vigorously until the noodles separate. Feel free to add oil, etc, as you see fit.
- Add a whole whack more soy sauce. Keep stirring (they don't call it stir-fry for nothin', folks).
- turn the heat down, cover, let sit for a few minutes.
- TA DA!!

This served three hungry people as the only dish, with enough leftovers for me to have it for lunch today. And it was super-yummy. When I started cooking I had a few doubts about how well squash would fit in. I worried the other ingredients would mock it and exclude it, but they all got along really well.

* I hereby ban the words lard, chitlins, and any other words to do with pig fat, or animal fat, from the comments. Yes, we all know that cooking collard greens without lard is as evil as sucking off GWB himself (or worse, voting for him!). Every single collard greens recipe I've seen has either contained lard, or has been accompanied by 35 indignant comments to the effect that "it would be/is so much better when fried in lard." Well, believe it or not, even us wacky wacky vegetarians know how good lard tastes. No one (well, almost) is vegetarian because they don't know about the wonderful world of meat out there just waiting to be discovered. So please respect my choice not to use it and keep your traps shut about it.

That is all.

For All Your Holiday Needs

2004-11-10T13:03:00.000-08:00

I have a new job. I'm working for Zingerman's Mail Order. It is a good job. The pay isn't great, but I love the people and the food. If you need to buy anything food related for anyone this holiday season, I can help you. Well, actually, whoever answers the phone there is a better resource than I. But I will help pack your box. And you won't be disappointed in the food. Promise. But it won't be cheap. Mail Order is more expensive than the Deli even, but we put a lot of work into each package, so there you go.

Swirling like a galaxy, baby

2004-10-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

Japanese dipping sauce:
1 cup Shiitake Dashi
2 cups Konbu Dashi
2/3 cup tamari soy sauce
1 cup sake
1/4 cup mirin
1 teaspoon grated peeled gingerroot

In a medium saucepan, combine ingredients. Simmer, uncovered, for about 30 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside to cool to room temperature.

As prepared in the Emilin/Stresch household, taken from Sundays at Moosewood by the Moosewood Collective.

Why Wednesdays can be dangerous in our house.

2004-10-13T11:48:00.000-07:00

There are limits to the benefits of stocking an eclectic cupboard. Due to a bit of a bonehead shopping moment a couple of weeks ago, we found ourselves with a few fresh garden tomatoes but sadly lacking for any olive oil. Dinner time had drawn nigh and I had promised something of a fresh tomato salad.

I began to panic.

Well, this may have been the gin talking, but I bucked up and said to myself, "Aha! A chance to improvise! In fact," I continued, "here is where I will get in touch with my inner gourmet, my inner Amanda Hesser, aswarm with ideas that fly about my head like so many gaily colored Symbrenthia lilaea! I shall concoct a new taste sensation that will curl up on my tastebuds with the warmth of a pair of woolen slippers," I thought, evidently continuing to run somewhat amok with the prose style of my inner Amanda Hesser, "Like a pair of woolen slippers that pad away to leave behind the lingering hint of autumn's favorite Navajo blanket!"

So I rummaged around and came up with this.

Chinese-y Caprese

2 large ripe garden tomatoes
sesame oil
soy sauce
1-2 Tbs. toasted sesame seeds
Fresh-ground black pepper

(1) Slice the tomatoes and arrange them on a serving plate.
(2) Sprinkle the tomatoes with a bit of sesame oil and soy sauce. Top with sesame seeds and pepper.
(3) Try one bite and then spend the rest of the meal pushing them around your plate while your spouse or partner gamely expresses admiration for a good effort.

Theoretically serves an infinite number, since nobody is going to want to touch the stuff.

2004-10-08T11:00:00.000-07:00

Tomatoes

2004-10-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

Wedded Tomatoes

2004-10-08T10:30:00.000-07:00

Windowed Tomatoes

The Pumpkin Tureen

2004-10-07T12:36:00.000-07:00

I don't know why I put off making the pumpkin tureen for so many years. The idea of baking a soup inside a pumpkin is such a perfect thing to do for a food geek like me. Every year since I bought Mollie Katzen's The Enchanted Broccoli Forest, Halloween would roll around and I'd think, "Pumpkin Tureen?" and a voice would answer, "Not this year."

But this year the voices inside my head gave me the go ahead, and by the way, isn't it fortunate that the voices tell me to bake soup inside a pumpkin instead of the myriad nefarious suggestions they could make?

"Bake soup inside a pumpkin!" vs. "Kill the president!" or "The mail carrier is the devil!"

What a relief that they're food addicts rather than conspiracy theorists or religious extremists.

Now that I'd finally gotten permission, I zipped over to the local farmer's market and picked out two pumpkins, a small one and a wee one, thinking Alex might like to eat his soup right out of the pumpkin, because you know, if I was five, I'd be all about that.

But as it turns out, he was kind of a jerk about the whole thing. He half-heartedly scooped out his pumpkin outside on the patio, and sullenly kicked the sharp-ended special pumpkin scoopy thing I'd splurged on, even though he'd been expressly told that it was sharp and he should stay away from it. Ever had those moments when your child does something outrageously stupid like, say, kicking a knife, and you're simultaneously concerned and unsympathetic? Yeah.

Anyway, so we (I) baked the soup and served it and he refused to take even the first bite of it. Because he thinks he's too grown for a nap but clearly is mistaken. The Pumpkin Tureen was delicious. Give it a try. You'll see.

The Pumpkin Tureen

1 3-lb pumpkin
1 T butter, slightly softened
1/4 c finely chopped onion
1 t prepared horseradish
1 t prepared brown mustard
1/2 c Swiss cheese
2 slices pumpernickel bread, cubed
1 can low-fat evaporated milk
salt and pepper to taste
pinch of cayenne
pinch of nutmeg

1.) Heat oven to 350 degrees.

2.) Cut off top of pumpkin. Scoop out pumpkin guts. Save seeds for toasting later. Scrape out inside of pumpkin to remove slimy pumpkin gut layer that coats it. Save top. Put pumpkin inside 9 x 12 cake pan.

3.) Rub inside of pumpkin with butter.

4.) Put all ingredients inside pumpkin.

5.) Put top back on pumpkin. To avoid any sort of top-shrinkage-falling-into-pumpkin dilemmas, you can put some tin foil over the hole on the top.

6.) Bake for 2 hours.

7.) Scrape cooked pumpkin into soup when you serve it.

Alex will see the error of his ways re: the Pumpkin Tureen someday. You'll see.

2004-08-23T17:37:00.000-07:00

Tomato Corn Chowder
There are a few weeks every summer when the sweet corn is perfect and the tomatoes are luscious and I make this soup. Those weeks are right now--I'm making my second batch of the season tomorrow. The first batch served as supper and lunch over the weekend with some friends, who seemed to love it as much as I do.

This is from Ginny Callan’s Horn of the Moon Cookbook, very slightly modified by me.

2 tbsp canola oil
1 ½ c. chopped sweet onion (about 3 onions, or a bit less)
1 tsp oregano
1 tsp dried leaf thyme
One 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes
2 c. diced fresh tomatoes (about 3 medium)
4 c. water
¼ c. unbleached white flour
1 c. heavy cream
2 c. fresh corn kernels
¼ minced fresh parsley

In a 3-quart soup pot, heat the oil and sauté the onions with the oregano and thyme over medium heat until slightly brown (or at least translucent). Add the canned and fresh tomatoes, then the water. Lower the heat and simmer 30 minutes covered, stirring occasionally. Mix flour and cream together in a bowl until smooth. Stir a ladle full of soup into the cream. Stir in another ladle of soup, then add the cream mixture to the soup pot. Simmer on very low heat, adding the corn, parsley, and salt and pepper to taste.

Excellent with a salad and great bread. Also very good with tortillas. Grating good cheddar on top is an option, but one that I don’t prefer.

RIP Julia Child

2004-08-13T16:17:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to say, lovely post on Flea's blog remembering Julia, who has always been one of my favorites.

2004-08-01T16:10:00.000-07:00

PSA
If you’re going to peel the plastic wrap off of the top of the beets that have been steaming in your microwave for seven minutes, for the love of God, use an oven mitt.

2004-07-28T18:10:00.000-07:00

Simplicity
The basil’s in, so it’s time for my all-time favorite grilled sandwich. This time of year, I eat it until I can’t stand to eat it anymore.

Here’s what you need:

Pesto, a little on the thick side
Cream cheese
Multigrain bread

Heat up a skillet. Butter the bread on one side—on the other, on one slice spread some cream cheese, and on the other slice, some pesto. Put them together, and slowly toast the sandwich on the skillet.

In a pinch, this will work in the toaster oven. In a pinchier pinch, it’ll work in a regular toaster (well, you’re going to want to put the pesto and the cream cheese on there after you toast the bread, but you knew that already).

Trust me. You’ll love this. You can doctor it up in any number of ways, but I like it best at its simplest.

The Laws of Chili

2004-07-12T18:47:00.000-07:00

First Law of Chili: There's plenty.
No matter how much chili you intended to make, you will always end up with enough to serve your unexpected guests, regardless of how hungry they are when they get there, plus have leftovers for lunch for a couple days.

Second Law of Chili: Sure, throw it in!
Pretty much anything's good in chili. I mean, maybe not ice cream or bananas (although I'm not so sure bananas would be such a bad idea), but certainly any veggie or legume you can get your hands on. Anything in your fridge that's gonna go bad if you don't use it real soon should probably go in the chili. Come to think of it, this might be why the first law of chili exists. Hmmmm.

Third Law of Chili: It's good.
It just is. It's so phenomenally hard to ruin chili that the only people who've been known to do it are school cafeteria types, and even then all they can usually manage to do is water it down and under-spice it to the point where it's not really chili, but just a slightly thicker minestrone soup. And these are people who've made a science of taking the yummiest, easiest, most un-ruinable things and rendering them inedible. If these guys can't ruin chili, no one can.

Fourth Law of Chili: Pick a carb, any carb.
Chili's a pick-your-carb meal. It's good with rice. It's good with potatoes. It's good on pasta. It's good on or beside bread. Or you could just cook some barley or leftover rice straight in. Doesn't matter, the chili makes it work.

Those are the laws of chili. Put together they make a pretty powerful argument in its favour, in my opinion. I'm in favour of making chili.

There are purists out there who will disagree with me, will tell me that it's not chili if it doesn't contain meat, or contains carrots, or wasn't made with a _certain_kind_ of chili pepper. To them I say "pooh pooh". If it looks like chili, smells like chili, and tastes like chili, then it's chili. The rest is just details.

Liberty chicory for your July 4th barbecue.

2004-07-02T06:30:00.000-07:00

I can still recall one of the defining political moments of my youth, back when I was fresh with the dizzy rush of my first voter registration.

(Strangely, registering for the draft had not had quite the same giddy effect on me, though I had managed to secure a camouflage vest to wear for the occasion. In one of those pointless instances of purely notional political action, I scrawled some sort of defiant message across the face of the registration card. And then went home to collect my student loans, I suppose. Anyway.)

The Spring of 1988 was fresh with promise: the prospect of Paul Simon as our next President had at least three or four other people besides myself excited at the thought of installing a true prairie populist in the White House to replace the outgoing President Reagan.

Well, we all know where that dream went.

No doubt the Dukakis campaign was relieved when it was announced that I was going to throw my support to their camp, which I did by sticking up at least one poster in my room and sporting a button on my backpack. I had secured this paraphernalia by sneaking one rainy night into the McLean County (Illinois) Democratic headquarters while my parents sat in their idling car a couple of blocks away, hoping not to be seen. Progressive though they both are, at the time they were both active in local politics and, given the realities of Downstate politics since about 1856 or so, they could not afford to be seen loitering around with an unwashed bunch of Democrats.

The campaign of 1988 is remembered in part for such perfidious and cynical Bush attacks on Dukakis as the Willie Horton issue or charges that the good Governor was a waffler. Or, for those with idiosyncratic memories, the belgian endive attack.

The timing of this attack was fortunate in one respect: I had been casting about for a simple Halloween costume and George H.W. Bush had handed me one on the figurative platter. I arrayed myself in green, hung a crudely lettered sign about my neck and (fueled in equal parts by political conviction and cheap beer) would waylay unsuspecting acquaintances like some Ancient Mariner and relate to them in colorful language what exactly I thought about those clowns from Kennebunkport.

Which is why today I can be counted on to be the guy who brings the braised endive to the table when its time to grill. The marinade cuts the bitterness of the endive and the dish makes a nice addition to anything from a grilled burger to grilled fish.

That is if you can stand to sit around a table with me while I poke moodily at my plate and grumble about the lousy state of American politics.

'STICKIN' IT TO THE MAN' MARINATED ENDIVE

4-6 belgian endives, sliced in half lengthwise
2-3 red and/or yellow bell peppers, cored and quartered lengthwise
Balsamic vinegar
Olive oil
Powdered or whole-seed coriander
2-3 limes
Fresh ground pepper, salt

In a bowl, combine enough balsamic vinegar and olive oil to slosh around on your endives. I use a ratio of about half and half, oil and vinegar, but adjust to taste.

Add some coriander (maybe a tablespoon?) to the oil and vinegar, grind some pepper in, and add maybe a teaspoon of salt. Squeeze in some lime juice. Combine.

Add your endives, roll them around in the mixture to coat. Let sit (turning periodically) for at least half an hour.

Place the endives cut side down on a medium to hot grill. Put the bell peppers, skin side down, on the grill. Flip the endive when the cut side gets nice and browned, then cook a little longer. Remove the peppers when the skins get sort of bubbly and darkened.

Array the endive and peppers on a festive serving dish. Spoon some of the marinade over the peppers and endives. If you are an East Coast boutique liberal, you will no doubt want to garnish it or something. Knock yourself out.

I want these

2004-06-30T04:19:00.000-07:00

Right now. That is all.

Dip your vegis in this

2004-06-22T19:56:00.000-07:00

I made this for a little reunion that I attended this evening--initially, I thought it hadn't really turned out, but that hour in the refrigerator made all the difference. Everyone raved about it. I served it with red pepper strips, zucchini strips, lightly steamed pea pods, and baby carrots (the carrots and the peas were from the CSA share).

It rocked--naturally, it's from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.

Curry Mayonnaise with Mango Chutney

½ c. mango chutney, pref. Major Grey’s
1 c. mayonnaise
4 scallions, including some of the greens, finely chopped
1 tbsp. curry powder
Juice of 2-3 limes
Cayenne
¼ c. yogurt or sour cream, optional

Stir the chutney into the mayonnaise (if it’s chunky, chop it some…) along with the scallions, curry, and enough lime juice to make a tart but harmonious balance. Stir in a pinch or two of cayenne, and the yogurt. Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour. Taste before serving to make sure the balance is right and add a bit more lime juice if it seems too sweet. If you use bottled mayo (as I did), add the yogurt or sour cream to even out the taste.

Fusion.

2004-06-19T15:36:00.000-07:00

Today's restaurant review: The Sunrise Cafe, corner of Foster and Ravenswood, Chicago.

Before Steve and I leapt from the frying pan of the city into the fire of Suburban Hell, I used to drive past this lesbian-owned crunchy hippie restaurant with stars painted all over the twilight-colored brick exterior. "Homemade vegetable soup!" the signs on the windows cheerfully proclaimed. "Fresh scones! Sandwiches! Salads! Birthday cakes!"

"You really should go," my friends would say. "They have great scones."

I put it on my to-do list, along with reading Ulysses and taking French lessons, and five years went by and Ulysses is still sitting on my bookshelf with an unbroken spine and it's still a big non as far as relearning the French I'd forgotten from high school. The Sunrise Cafe, however, was another story all together. This was something I could actually accomplish.

So before the boys and I went to the park, I spontaneously aimed the Ski Car to the side of the road when we approached the little restaurant, and I dragged them out of the car, happily anticipating a veggie sandwich for me and some Tofu Pups for the boys.

The Sunrise Cafe only had three tables, and a bar with stools running along the front window. A deli area was set up in an L-shape that ended with an old fashioned brass-colored cash register. The only other people in the restaurant were two men sitting at one of the tables. We went up to the register, and I peered back into the kitchen in an attempt to catch someone's attention. One of the men, a very young Japanese man in his early 20's, got up, greeted us and motioned us to a table. I led the kids to the table and put my purse down onto the edge of the table top, which caused the top to flip over.

The boys were overjoyed by this, but frankly I didn't think it bode very well for the rest of the meal. We sat down, and Christopher amused himself by playing with the pepper, pausing occasionally to sneeze, while Alex and I looked around the place.

"What's that music called?" he asked.

"Japanese music."

"What kind of Japanese music?"

"You know, I'm not really familiar with Japanese music, so that's about as much as I know. It sounds like Japanese new age to me."

Behind the deli case window were rows and rows of sushi. Japanese pop bottles were lined along the wall on small shelves. It seemed I had come to the restaurant about 5 years too late, and I probably wouldn't be getting any of those scones.

The young owner came out again with a menu for me. It seemed to be an old menu from the previous owners, promising all sorts of hippie goodness. I looked at him hopefully.

"Sushi?" he returned my look of hope with one of his own. "I make sushi! Good sushi!"

Alex is a trooper in many ways, but there's no way he's diving into raw fish topped with wasabi. And Christopher we won't even discuss.

On the second page of the menu, an item read: Peanut butter and strawberry jelly, $4.99.

After kicking myself for not making the peanut butter and jelly at home and eating it at the park, I pointed to it.

"Oh, yes, yes," he said, nodding agreeably.

"Okay, just one, and they'll split it, and a chicken and vegetable salad for me."

He nodded again, and backed into the kitchen. He returned seconds later with ice water in small plastic glasses. Thin circles of lemon hovered just under the ice. He placed the water down on the table, and returned to the table with a small bowl of edamame just in time to see Christopher dump a sizeable portion of the water down the front of his shirt.

"Ahhhh, baby wet!" he said, and came back again with napkins.

Alex and I enjoyed the edamame quite a bit, mostly because he likes to shell things, and I like it when he takes a liking to new food.

"You wanna ham?" asked the owner.

"Ham?"

"On salad? I put ham..."

"No, no ham, please."

"Cheese?"

"Okay."

He then asked a series of unintelligable questions that I knew would just result in a complete communication breakdown, so I cut to the chase and waved him away, saying, "Okay, okay."

Lunch came quickly. My salad was romaine lettuce with glass noodles, tomato, cabbage, mushrooms, Kraft singles and chicken pot stickers, with orange french dressing on the side. He seemed very much like he wanted me to know that he made the pot stickers himself, so I feel like I should pass that along, along with the fact that they were pretty decent, and would have been better had they been warm and served with a soy dipping sauce.

The promised peanut butter and jelly sandwich arrived as well. He set it down in front of Christopher. Usually what I do is take their food right away, divvy it up and cut Christopher's into manageable, bite-sized chunks. This time, though, I was completely paralyzed by what was sitting quietly in front of my child.

My God, this sandwich.

My God.

I sat staring at it, unable to process what I was seeing, unable to hide the look of dumb horror on my face. The owner, seeing my strangled facial expression, grew anxious. His face clouded in concern, and he began wringing his hands.

"Yes?" he queried nervously. "Yes?"

But I was forced into silence, as the only words that had formed in my brain were words that I could not say to this sweet man standing in front of me, this man who, it was now excruciatingly clear, had no clue about American food combining.

This is what sat on the wobbly table top in front of me, this food abomination contrasting sharply with the simple goodness of the edamame, the thoughtfully served lemon-water, the cheery yellow-checked paper table cloth:

A club-style triple decker sandwich, on unwieldy puffy french bread. Layered between the slices of bread were, in this order, peanut butter avocado, lettuce, tomato, onion, cucumber, Kraft American singles, and strawberry jelly. I was momentarily sure I was being punked, that Ashton Kutcher was going to show up and point and laugh. And I totally would have deserved it, because
I literally could not speak. And, for awhile, neither could the owner. Clearly, he had done something very wrong. But what? He did not have the vocabulary yet to ask me what the matter was, nor to understand my answer. But he tried. He pointed to a spot under the top layer of bread.

"Is very good peanut butter," he said.

A small hand darted out and grabbed one of the sandwich halves. Alex crammed a point of the sandwich into his mouth.

"What do you think?" I asked him, appalled but trying to hide it.

"Mmmmm. Tomato," he said appreciatively.

I looked up at the owner, who hovered over Christopher, his brow furrowed. "I guess it's okay, then."

And that was one of the tougher decisions I've made, to say nothing. But really, the owner made it, the customer for whom it was made saw no problem with it, so I let it go. None of my business, really.

Unfortunately, the owner had become upset. He pointed at Christopher. "He not eating!" he said.

To be fair, it might not the the devil's own sandwich sitting in front of him that's doing it. Christopher is a pickier eater than his brother, and lately just prefers to occasionally graze rather than eat a meal. But again, I couldn't explain this to the owner, who wasn't waiting for an explaination anyway. He shot off to the back and returned with a huge chocolate chip cookie, which he presented as an olive branch for his mysterious offense.

I don't care if one child hasn't eaten in four days and has crawled through a river of raw sewage to reach the table, and the other has ridden up on a fancy pony, you just can't give one child a cookie without giving one to the other, too, so I quickly broke the cookie in half and distributed the pieces.

The owner settled down into the remaining chair at our table, and began talking in some sort of Japaglish, of which I understood about every fifth word. The only thing I understood, I think, was that he was not married, but that someday he would be, and that he would like to have two boys and one girl, the girl coming last. "She be a princess baby," he said.

"I want to be a princess!" announced Alex. "Princess Fiona knows karate! Princess Elizabeth wears a paper bag! Why are you Japanese?"

The language barrier, a mixed blessing.

Then the owner began talking to Alex, which worked out very well. If you remember from your high school Spanish or French beginner classes, most of the conversations in the beginning of the book went like this:

Marie-Claire: Bonjour, Pierre!

Pierre: Bonjour! Comment allez-vous?

Marie-Claire: Tres bien, merci! Et vous?

Pierre: Tres bien! Alors, Marie-Claire, Quelle age etes-vous?

Marie-Claire: J'ai 17 ans. Et vous?

Pierre: J'ai 18 ans.

Marie-Claire: Qu'est qu'il y a a mange pour le dejuner?

Pierre: J'ai mange un peanut butter and jelly sandwich with lettuce, tomato, onion, and that shitty cheese food those stupid Americans eat. Etes vous?

Marie-Claire: Ah! Moi aussi! Les Americans sont tres stupide, n'est pas?

Pierre: Bien sur!

Both: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

This is perfect small talk for a four year old, so they chatted in that vein until Christopher decided he had had enough and climbed out of his chair and began marching toward the open front door. I ran to scoop him up, and he evaded my evil clutches and darted behind the deli counter. The owner pitched in and got up, coming around the other side of the counter and blocking his path. Christopher fled in anxiety back to me.

"Maybe I just have the girl," said the owner, thoughtfully.

Time to go.

So I paid the check ($10), scooped up the kids, and took them to the park. On the way out, the owner told Alex that if he came back on his (Alex's) birthday, the owner would make him a birthday cake. I'd be all for this, except I suspect we might be presented with an eel covered in pink sugar roses.

Despite all this, the Sunrise Cafe is now my new favorite restaurant, and everyone should go to wish him well.

Just don't order the peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Sweet cream biscuits

2004-06-15T09:42:00.000-07:00

Embarrassingly easy--and requested by Krup.

SWEET CREAM BISCUITS

2 c. Bisquick mix
2/3 c. whipping cream
2 tbsp. sugar

Mix ingredients, form soft dough. Turn onto board and knead 10 times. Roll 1/2 inch thick. Cut with biscuit cutter. Bake on greased pan 10 to 12 minutes at 450 degrees.

Look for many hotdog-based casserole recipes coming soon.

2004-06-14T08:18:00.000-07:00

I'm back from a quick trip to my parents' house in Downstate Illinois. While lolling about the kitchen down there I took a moment to browse through my mom's collection of local church charity cookbooks and my attention was arrested by an entry on the inserted errata slip for the St. Luke's cookbook:

SNICKERS AND APPLE SALAD: Substitute regular-sized Snickers for fun-sized Snickers.

I paged frantically ahead to see the complete recipe and noted with mingled horror and glee that my mother had dutifully lined through "fun-sized" and made the necessary emendation.

She denies that she has ever made the salad.

In any event, the dish is elegant in its simplicity and notable as an extreme example of the Midwestern church supper salad. Perhaps also suitable for Cub Scout pack meeting potlucks. I reproduce it here from memory:

SNICKERS AND APPLE SALAD

Three granny smith apples.
Three regular sized Snicker's bars.
8 oz. sour cream.
8 oz. Cool Whip (thawed).

Core apples (leave skin on) and cut into chunks.
Cut Snickers bars into bite-sized pieces.
Combine in serving dish.
Add remaining ingredients, mix well.
Chill.
Sneakily place on table at potluck, skulk away from the table.

Fake Spanish

2004-06-10T14:02:00.000-07:00

I ate lunch today in a Mexican restaurant, the menu of which included the "Leetle Peeple Plate" for the kids. Seriously. Could I make that up?

On the upside, they had deep-fried bean-and-cheese tacos, which are a thing of beauty. Almost as wonderful as potato flautas. Almost.

Feeling like a kid again

2004-06-09T12:26:00.000-07:00

Chocolate milk tastes best out of a glass bottle, especially when it’s from Jersey cows. I'm glad that one does not need to be in (New) Jersey to reap the benefits of this lovely cow.

Good chocolate milk is another reason to choose locally produced foods. The specific breeds of cow used to produce milk are generally selected for the quantity they produce rather than the quality. Jersey cows aren't so common, but they're easier to find when you look for them at small family farms.

Empanadas

2004-06-09T09:40:00.000-07:00

I served empanadas and a kick-ass salad from the produce sub on Sunday evening. The salad was romaine and green-leaf lettuces, spinach, sunflower sprouts, and split red grapes, with lime wedges as dressing (there was traditional salad dressing available, too).

I fed seven adults and four kids, two of the kids ate something else (quesadillas), the other two split one empanada. I doubled the recipe and shouldn't have--more empanadas left over than one person needs (so I pawned some off on friends!).

Here's the empanada recipe--I only need half the filling before I run out of dough, but I'm probably doing something terribly wrong, so here's the as-is recipe. Note that I think that cilantro is a tool of the devil and I never use it. YMMV.

Black Bean Empanadas, from Ginny Callan's Beyond the Moon Cookbook

2 c. black beans

Dough
2 1/2 c. unbleached white flour
1 1/2 c. whole wheat pastry flour
1 tsp. salt
1/2 c. (1 stick) butter, melted
2/3 c. (single-serving container) plain yogurt
6 tbsp. cold water

Filling
Reserved mashed, cooked black beans (or a rinsed can of them, which I don't mash...)
2 tbsp. canola oil
3/4 c. chopped onion
4 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
2 tsp. dried basil
1 c. chopped green pepper
1 minced jalapeno pepper
1 1/2 c. chopped zucchini
2 tbsp. minced fresh cilantro
1 c. fresh or frozen corn kernels
1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. salt
1 1/2 c. grated cheddar
1 1/2 c. grated jalapeno Jack

1 1/2 c. canola oil for frying (or more)

Sour cream, salsa, and chopped cilantro on the side.

Rinse and sort the beans, soak them in 6 c. water for 6 to 8 hours or overnight. Drain the beans and put them in a pot with 6 c. fresh water. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer, partially covered, until tender, about 90 minutes. Drain the beans and return them to the pot off the heat. Mash lightly and set aside.

While the beans are cooking, prepare the dough. Combine the flours, salt, butter, yogurt, and water in a mixing bowl or food processor. Stir or pulse until well mixed. Turn dough onto lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. Cover and refrigerate.

For the filling, heat 2 tbsp. oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Saute the onion, garlic, basil, peppers, and zucchini until tender, about 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat, and stir in the cilantro, corn, cumin, salt, and cheeses. Add vegis to the beans and stir well. Turn the dough out onto a floured surface, knead it lightly, and divide it into twelve balls. Roll each ball into an 8-inch circle (mine never get there, but whatever--f) and place a heaping 1/2 c. of filling in its center. spread the filling, leaving a 1-inch border around the edge. Fold the dough over the filling to form a half circle, and use the tines of a fork to seal it. Repeat until all 12 empanadas are filled.

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

Heat the 1 1/2 c. oil in a deep saucepan (or stockpot--f) over medium-high heat. The oil's hot enough when a bit of dough tossed in immediately sizzles and rises to the surface.

Fry the empanadas one at a time until golden brown (the recipe claims that this takes 3 minutes on each side, but it takes mine only 15 seconds or so, total--f). Drain on paper towels. Place cooked empanadas on a baking sheet in the oven to keep warm until ready to serve.

Nigella does not bite!

2004-06-07T10:55:00.000-07:00

I found a copy of Nigella Lawson's "How to be a Domestic Goddess," as well as a copy of her other one, "How to Eat" at the Goodwill on Sunday. $2.99 each. Score.

Let the games begin!

2004-06-07T09:51:00.000-07:00

G. and his family and I are splitting a farm share again this summer. On Thursday night, Farmer Rob called to let us know that the share would start on Saturday—on Friday morning, G. and I chatted on the phone to firm up plans, and we talked about how excited we were to start the season, how great all of that produce is, how much we enjoy doing this. We talked some about the price of chest freezers, and we laughed about how we were going to need to remember this feeling of anticipation and glee come late July, when we had way more food than we could possibly cram into the refrigerator, much less eat.

Seems late July showed up at the lilypad a little earlier than usual, this year. Holy Bob, do I have a lot of lettuce. And spinach! Oh, the spinach!

Here’s what’s in the box this week (G., if I missed anything, feel free to edit...):
Romaine, green-leaf and red-leaf lettuce
Spinach
Sunflower sprouts
Fennel
Oregano
Garlic chives
Lemon balm

The lettuce is just as I remember it—so good that I don’t want to put any dressing on it at all. Last evening, I hosted dinner for 11, including myself, four of whom were small girls. I served black bean empanadas and salad, with sorbet (supplied by a guest) for dessert. We made only the tiniest dent in the salad (romaine and green-leaf lettuce, spinach and sunflower sprouts) and the garlic chives (served as a garnish).

I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided that I could handle half a share by myself. Those of you who know me IRL should expect that I’ll be bringing salad as my contribution to any and all meals this summer.

And you should also expect to find the occasional Napa cabbage on your porch.

2004-06-02T16:43:00.000-07:00

Boggy Creek Farm

Can't tell you how exciting I find this prospect.

2004-06-02T13:56:00.000-07:00

The produce subscription starts this weekend!!

Of course, we won't get it until next Weds, but Frog and G should have the goods in just a few days.

2004-05-27T19:36:00.000-07:00

Tempest Pancakes

for Grace

1 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1 T baking powder
pinch salt
1 tsp vanilla sugar
3 T melted butter
2 beaten eggs
1 1/3 cups milk

Mix dry ingrediants together. Mix wet ingrediants together. Stir wet into dry. Let sit for 15 minutes. Cook on hot griddle. Serve with butter, syrup, and, um, plenty of napkins.

2004-05-27T11:18:00.000-07:00

Pizza protection
Italy sets strict pizza guidelines.

2004-05-26T20:59:00.000-07:00

Sorry. I totally didn't mean to post that.

2004-05-24T09:52:00.000-07:00

Did someone say, “Saag paneer”? Yes. Months ago.

My apologies. I ought not go on about the difficulty in asking my friend Natalie to give me her recipe, debating whether to reveal the blog (and consequently my blog and Stresch’s blog), eventually deciding to ask and tell her about them if it came up. She didn’t ask, but she also didn’t get me the recipe. She’s pregnant and hating food and just got back from Paris where there’s nothing to eat if you’re a vegetarian-leaning mom-to-be in your first trimester and ready to barf on the next waiter who offers you quiche. I really needed her recipe, since she’s the only person I know who has spent significant time in India and actually cooks Indian food.

This version is Nita Mehta’s Palak-Paneer. We ate it just the other night and loved it.

150 gms paneer, cut into 1” cubes and deep fried
½ kg spinach with small leaves
2 onions
1” piece ginger
5-6 flakes garlic
2 tomatoes, chopped
2 green chilies, chopped
2-3 T ghee (butter is adequate but inauthentic)
salt to taste
2 moti illaichi (brown cardamom), skinned and crushed

Wash and chop the spinach. Steam until cooked through but still bright green. Rinse with cold water and drain, then grind into a smooth paste. Grind the onions, garlic, and ginger together. Heat the ghee in a pan and add the onion paste, cooking until golden brown. Add the spinach and cook for 5-7 minutes over low heat. Add salt, illaichi, and paneer and stir well.

Optional: Just before serving, drizzle a hot mixture of 1 T ghee and 1 t red chili powder over the top and mix well.

2004-05-21T06:05:00.000-07:00

Spoons
Here's a question for everyone from portia.

...with what does one oil/care for one's nice wooden spoons? namlet gave me a beautiful set of boxwood spoons with a gorgeous finish, but of course as I use them they become less smooth...can I oil and rub them, kind of like seasoning a pan?

2004-05-19T20:51:00.000-07:00

I went morel hunting with my FIL this weekend. It was so much fun. We actually found quite a few. I'm the uber-foodie. I pick my own wild mushrooms. I probably lose points for not getting them entirely clean. They were a little gritty. Oops.

2004-05-19T13:11:00.000-07:00

All-One Kitchen Gear Review!

Probably I'm like the last sentient being in the world to have picked up on this, but I'm feeling all Heloise-meets-Dr. Bronner this afternoon and thus will spout off regardless: I think everyone should have a tupperware tub full of wooden clothespins within easy reach when working in the kitchen.

Poorly designed ziplock frozen food bags spilling lima beans into the ice cube tray? That bag of shredded jack cheese drying out in the fridge? Your brown sugar has been appropriated by the contractors rebuilding your neighbor's chimney?

Take some clothespins! Clip those bags shut! OK!

That's pretty obvious, you say. Clipping stuff with a ... clip thingie. Big whoop. But wait!

You're using a wooden spoon to stir up a mixing-bowl full of jalapeno cornbread batter when the phone rings. It's Hollywood! They want to turn your blog ("Random Thoughts 'n' Stuff ;)") into a Major Motion Picture!

Clip a clothespin to the wooden spoon, near the top of the handle; this will prevent the spoon from slipping into the bowl! And you can gesture animatedly with your free hand while on the phone!

Conversely: Place clothespin on counter. Use it as a spoon rest.

To which you say perhaps: "Pffft."

OK! Your young child stands on a chair at the counter and complains that you are not letting her wash the dishes. With one hand take a clothespin and tell her it is an alligator. Make the clothespin open and shut in the manner of a crocodilian snout and gnash your teeth for sound effects.

The magic of a child's imagination! She's amused for 90 seconds!

What, no kids? Don't fence me in, buddy? I've got a life of the mind to get on with?

Look Foucault, using clothespins in the kitchen repriveleges tangible domestic "texts" across genres to destabilize normative post-industrial social roles. When the laundry and the kitchen cross-fertilize then can we in turn truly feel trammeled?

OK!

2004-05-14T11:07:00.000-07:00

I've recently finished a crazy week of which the highlights were ending a seven and a half year relationship (complete with kitchen remodel) and finding a new place to live.

Some of the lowlights include *looking* for a place to live. While there are many things that go into the "right" home, the kitchen and the food are two big components. Since I was primarily looking to at shared housing situations, how my housemate(s) feel about food, cooking, and dining were also pretty crucial.

I've lived with people who cook meat at home before, and it is something I didn't want to do again. I've never lived with someone who didn't enjoy my cooking, and I don't want to try. There are some areas in which I am flexible, but this is not one of them. I was able to find a great housemate, great house, and so far, the only possible criticism I have of her is that she's "not a chocolate person". Given that she told me this after I handed her a box of jam bars (Deborah Madison's recipe, organic blueberry filling/slivered almonds and oatmeal added to the top layer) and told her "This is not a bribe. It would be sneaky, underhanded and manipulative to try and bribe you, and I'd never do anything like that." She looked in, said yum, and asked if I'd known that she's "not a chocolate person".

She keeps a kosher kitchen, and only cooks dairy and pareve foods in it. This makes me a very happy mostly-vegetarian-- and given that I'm divorcing my annual source of crabmeat, and my semi-annual source of shrimp has died, it will work out fine.

We were talking about shared food, and I mentioned that given that my pantry includes olive oil for cooking, good olive oil for salads, hazelnut oil, toasted walnut oil, canola oil, and rapeseed oil with lemon zest, well, if I had to share the pantry space, my salads would be far less interesting. She was impressed by my only using the expensive olive oil for times I can actually taste it. She's also volunteered some of the organic nastursiums and organic blueberries as salad ingredients.

Yes, there is a gas stove. Good, open-- yet out of dog reach-- pantry shelving. She's going to come visit the house I am moving out of so that we can make good decisions about kitchen implements, utensils and serving pieces. Some of mine will go into storage, but she's all about getting the best combination into our new home.

Not cooking related, but she's delighted to have a dog moving into the house and I'm in love with the redwood trees.

2004-05-14T10:51:00.000-07:00

2004-05-07T18:36:00.000-07:00

A recipe like Pat Nixon's coat.

Wife B. came home from work Monday with a fever of 103.5, so of course by Tuesday evening I had made the first batch of poached eggs supreme. The recipe card we have on file is dated 6/26/89, which would be within a couple of weeks of her college graduation. My guess is she got her mother to pony up the recipe before setting up house on her own; I learned to make it at some point before we moved in together but when we were serious enough that I would be staying at her apartment when she was sick. I will admit it's a very Betty Crocker ca. 1965 type of dish, but it is also to my mind a very long-term relationship kind of recipe: not too fancy at first glance but when done right it can't be beat.

Poached Eggs Supreme:

1 T instant minced onion
1 T butter
1 can (10.5 oz) condensed cream of chicken soup
2/3 cup milk
4 eggs
2 english muffins
paprika, dried parsley

1. melt butter in a large skillet, cook the onion in the butter for a minute.
2. pour in the soup and the milk and heat to boiling.
3. slip each egg into the soup mixture and spoon a bit of soup over the eggs.
4. Cover pan and cook on medium heat until eggs are desired doneness (about 5 minutes?)
5. Place one egg on each toasted english muffin half. Spoon sauce over each egg. Sprinkle a little paprika and parsley on each serving.

NOTE: Recipe halves easily if your sweetie is really not very hungry and really just wants a little bit and then wants you to leave her alone so she can go back to sleep, or if you are happily living alone.

It might double if you are in a polyandrous relationship and there was a bug going around the house, I don't know. But if that's the case then you probably have more pressing domestic chores than poaching eight eggs.

I realize the recipe calls for chicken soup. It's like the old formulation about atheists and foxholes: in this house, there are no vegetarians in a sickbed.

2004-05-06T14:27:00.000-07:00

Recipes

I have trouble following recipes. Maybe that's why I'm not in love with Cook's Illustrated. All the warnings about using the wrong cornmeal or baking for 30 seconds too long just don't jive with the way I cook. Last night I made Pepper and Cheese Enchiladas from Sunday's at Moosewood. Except I used wheat tortillas instead of corn and did away with the frying them in oil. I omitted the chiles and cut down on the cumin. I left out the cottage cheese and probably increased the amount of cheddar. I'm not sure since I didn't really measure. Just now I'm thinking that a little dried oregano would have worked in the sauce. Anyway, they turned out really well. I would have felt stifled using the recipe as a protocol.

That's fine. Actually, I think that's a good way to cook. Last night, though, I ventured into new territory. I made brownies without a recipe. I've never baked without a recipe. I am both really proud and afraid I've crossed a line between good-cook and old-world grandmother.

2004-05-05T18:18:00.000-07:00

Knives

Since you mentioned knife shopping, Frog, I have to give you Mark's (and mine, really) recommendation for the best knife ever. It's the Henckels International Classic 8" Chef's Knife. It is, to my mind, perfect in every way. It's a bit on the heavy side, but I much prefer it to Mark's more expensive and much lighter Japanese-made knife.

Anyway, it's also the best value-for-money. It's made in Spain, rather than Germany, and they seem to be phasing them out, so they can be found for not much money. There is one here for example, for like $35.

Sorry. I promise I'm not a sales person, I just really like this knife and that's a good price.

2004-05-01T10:56:00.000-07:00

The Survey: An Annotated Response

Favorite kitchen appliance: Coffee grinder
Favorite kitchen implement: Henckels 9-inch steel chef’s knife [1]
Three basics my cooking can't live without: Turmeric, onions, red lentils
Things that are worth the extra $$: fair-trade coffee, regional beer [2]
Things that are not worth the extra $$: fancy red wine for everyday use [3]
Things missed most when they are out of season: tomatoes, fresh basil
Things I get really tired of seeing in the grocery store: hipsters [4]
I avoid at all costs: guacamole [5]
My favorite celebrity chef is: Alice Waters [6]
My favorite cooking show is: NA [7]

[1] I own something that’s cold forged or ice hardened or something. How great is that? It sounds like something you might see advertised during an NFL game (you’ll have to check with Frog about that). “The new Dodge Ram / Gillette Razor / Miller Beer: It’s cold forged.” Anyway, this knife makes me a better cook than I really am.

[2] If it hadn’t been snowing today [this was written April 27, but I got confused about how to log onto blogger] I would mention it’s Oberon season. Instead I will say it’s nominally Oberon season. [Now that it's May Day, we've got 50 degrees and rainy: It's like Spring on the freaking steppes around here.]

[3] Instead, we buy this stuff by the case. We have aparently fallen victim to a masterful marketing strategy.

[4] Look, we know you’re vegetarian already, dude. It’s cool.

[5] So back in the day, Tony was dating this woman who worked at an upscale grocery in Oakland and she got to take home the produce that would otherwise have gotten thrown out. We all stumbled back to her place one night after going out for beers and she made us guacamole out of her stash of free overripe avocados. Since then I have looked upon most avocados with the utmost suspicion.

[6] I have always had a thing for earnest, forward-thinking women with Berkeley connections. Reader, I married one.

[7] It’s either cable or that Oberon beer. I returned some empties this afternoon to the neighborhood party store (sometimes it seems our state welfare program boils down to the fact that we get ten cents a bottle on returns) and even with 72 bottles to my credit, I still needed to shell out $3.50 for my six-pack of Oberon. It's not a habit we indulge very often. (Both returning our bottles and drinking Oberon.)

2004-04-30T10:24:00.000-07:00

I have a couple of food-related things to share today.

First, I had a wonderful sandwich for dinner last night. Grilled Tillamood cheddar (makes me homesick) with organic tomato slices on Zingerman's 8-grain 3-seed bread (Thank you, Stresch and Emilin!). It was amazing.

Then, for lunch today I had an Amy's meal. These are generally pretty good, so I tried something new: Mattar Paneer. I was skeptical--I love Indian food, but how good can it be out of a box? Well, in this case it was QUITE good. I'd highly recommend it.

I eat convenience food for lunch. It's that or go out--I just have a block about making lunch. So Amy's really is a wondeful, wonderful thing.

2004-04-29T06:06:00.000-07:00

Okay, maybe I'll vote for him instead of Kucinich
From the Detroit Free Press:

(Michigan Governor Jennifer) Granholm accompanied Kerry from the event to Zingerman's Deli, a culinary landmark in Ann Arbor. There, Kerry chatted with staff and ordered takeout brownies, potato salad and a half-pound of soffresappa, an Italian sausage he held up for photographers.

2004-04-28T11:04:00.000-07:00

Favorite kitchen appliance: Food processor (a small one from Krups), esp. now that we can wash it in the dishdrawers. I really love the dishdrawers more, but I thought I should give a cooking-based answer.
Favorite kitchen implement: lemon zester, garlic press
Three basics my cooking can't live without: olive oil, garlic, a good saute pan.
Things that are worth the extra $$: Organic produce delivered to my garage, good knives, yummy cheese
Things that are not worth the extra $$: prepared salad dressing, cookies that I didn't bake, fancy-shmancy canned tuna
Things missed most when they are out of season: tomatoes, corn, asparagus.
Things I get really tired of seeing in the grocery store: I actually rarely go, but I think my answer would be "hungry, tired shoppers, esp. those with hungry, tired children." But if we're talking food items, it would be dessicated fruit. It makes me laugh.
I avoid at all costs: meat
My favorite celebrity chef is: Deborah Madison
My favorite cooking show is: the only one I've watched more than once is Iron Chef. However, there are so few editions of the show that feature foods that I eat, and the dubbing is annoying, so I don't watch it often.

2004-04-27T19:59:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I forgot to mention how much I love my rice cooker and salad spinner. I have so many gadgets and things, but I use them. I do! Okay, maybe not the garlic press, but the rest of it.

2004-04-26T17:02:00.000-07:00

Stresch Weighs In

Favorite kitchen appliance: Kitchen Aid stand mixer
Favorite kitchen implement: Oxo peeler, microplane zester, chef's knife
Three basics my cooking can't live without: butter, garlic, my cast iron skillet
Things that are worth the extra $$: Zingerman's bread, good parmesan, organic produce, and organic, fair-trade coffee
Things that are not worth the extra $$: spices in jars
Things missed most when they are out of season: tomatoes, berries
Things I get really tired of seeing in the grocery store: tomatoes in the winter
I avoid at all costs: okra
My favorite celebrity chef is: Deborah Madison
My favorite cooking show is: I really like the pastry competitions on the food channel.

2004-04-26T09:12:00.000-07:00

Cooks Survey: frog's responses
Favorite kitchen appliance: coffee grinder
Favorite kitchen implement: heat-resistant spatula, hand-carved wooden spoon
Three basics my cooking can't live without: Deborah Madison, Loriva Peanut Oil, and limes
Things that are worth the extra $$: organic produce, good knives (no, I don’t have these, but I know it’s true), Ed’s Bread, and organic, fair-trade coffee
Things that are not worth the extra $$: name-brand flour, name-brand butter
Things missed most when they are out of season: corn on the cob, peaches, strawberries, eggs from my egg guy
Things I get really tired of seeing in the grocery store: bruised or rotting produce
I avoid at all costs: cilantro
My favorite celebrity chef is: Ann Cooper, though “celebrity” is in the eye of the beholder
My favorite cooking show is: None, as I don’t watch them regularly, but I was part of an extended conversation in the car yesterday about the color commentary on the Japanese version of Iron Chef. “It’s eggplant!” So, yeah.

2004-04-23T18:40:00.000-07:00

Cooks Survey
I propose that we at Knife-Wielding Feminists take part in a cooks' survey. I'll start:

Favorite kitchen appliance: toaster oven
Favorite kitchen impliment: good set of mixing bowls
Three basics my cooking (baking) can't live without: unsalted butter, white sugar, unbleached all-purpose flour
Things that are worth the extra $$: organic poultry, most organic produce, organic milk, nice olive oil, bottled water
Things that are not worth the extra $$: organic bananas, foie gras, caviar, name-brand canned tomotoes and beans, hoity dry pasta
Things missed most when they are out of season: good tomatoes, strawberries, apples, corn on the cob
Things I get really tired of seeing in the grocery store: greens of various kinds, citrus fruits, asparagus
I avoid at all costs: walnuts, coconut,
My favorite celebrity chef is: Tony Bordain
My favorite cooking show is: Good Eats, Oliver's Twist

2004-04-20T14:04:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay in this one...KWF reader Zoe had mentioned in her blog that she was going to try a medieval pie crust recipe. I was intrigued, and asked for a copy if it worked out. Here you go! (and Zoe, if you want me to plug your blog, let me know and I'll post a link)

Pasta Briciolata (traditional Italian pastry), as modified by Heather Mosey for a medieval Italian recipe.

This makes a top and bottom crust, or a thick bottom crust. It can be used with any sort of pie filling. The recipe calls for a 375° oven, but it works in a 350° oven as well.

¼ cup pastry flour
¾ cup all-purpose flour
4 oz (one stick) sweet unsalted butter
Pinch of salt
Pinch of saffron, minced
4-5 tablespoons of cold water
Clean, damp towel

1. Sift the flour onto a board and shape into a mound. Cut the butter and arrange the slices over the flour. Let rest for ½ hour or until the butter softens.
2. Mix the butter and flour together using your hands.
3. Make a well and add the salt and saffron. Add 2 tablespoons of water, mix with a fork, and keep adding water until it is all absorbed.
4. Form the dough into a ball and knead gently for about 2 minutes until the dough is smooth and elastic. If you are making a top and bottom crust, divide the dough into two parts, one slightly larger than the other. Wrap the balls in the towel and put them in the refrigerator for at least one hour.
5. Dust the board with flour. Unwrap the dough and knead it for one minute. Then, roll the dough into a circle (or circles, if you’re making a top/bottom crust pie).
6. Carefully transfer the bottom crust to a greased pie pan, fill it with yumminess, and add the top layer, if there is one.

I'm definitely curious to try this. I've never used saffron for something sweet, so I'm not sure what sort of filling to opt for. Suggestions?

2004-04-16T07:20:00.000-07:00

Zingerman’s
The Morning News has a great interview with food writer and Zingerman’s co-founder Ari Weinzweig. If you don’t know about him, you should.

Via Bookslut.

2004-04-15T09:24:00.000-07:00

Let me just start out by saying that it was supposed to be something simple and nutritious.

Stresch went back to work after a harrowing trip to the mall, and I was responsible for dinner. I figured that my old standby of diced tomatoes (canned or frozen), pesto, and pasta would be adequate, and we had some extra cheese to put on top anyway. I plunked some frozen roasted tomatoes from the garden into a saucepot, turned on the flame as low as it could go, and left the room. I went about my business, checking on them occasionally until they were sitting in half an inch of water. I uncovered them and turned up the heat just a smidge.

Emilin’s “I Don’t Want to Cook” Pasta
(Serves two as a one course meal.)

1 15oz can plain, plain, plain tomatoes (I prefer Eden), diced
-or-
7-10 frozen roasted paste tomato halves

a few chunks of frozen pesto
half a box of linguine
cheese as desired

Start the water for the pasta. Dump the tomatoes, ideally in their diced state, into a heavy saucepot. Chip some lumps of pesto out of its container, and stir them into the tomatoes. The point of the pesto is require that your sauce have only two ingredients, so use it to taste. Keep it on medium-low heat to reduce the sauce, stirring occasionally. Cook the pasta according to the directions on the box. If you use a deep stockpot, the sauce will be ready when the pasta is done.

It was also Garbage Eve, so the cat boxes and trash cans had to be changed. I wanted to wear a particular shirt today, and thus did two loads of laundry, having gotten carried away. Remembering that some certain undergarments needed handwashing, I soaked some brassieres in the delicates detergent from the co-op. It wasn’t until I was heaving the cat litter up the basement stairs that I remembered about the tomatoes. The water had surely boiled off, and the kitchen had a sweet smell that told me the burning of tomatoes was nigh.

Well, crap. This wasn’t a part of my plan.

They were still soft, but they completely disintegrated when I stirred them. Nothing smelled or tasted burnt, so I decided to turn it into some kind of modified béchamel sauce. We had leftover cream (score!), some butter, milk, and flour, so I dumped and stirred and continued with my chores. It was beginning to round on the time Stresch was expected home, and I had completely forgotten to boil the water for the pasta. Something, maybe the leftover cartons from Easter, told me that poached eggs would go really well with that sauce.

Actually, that’s not true. The fond memory of poached eggs with a similar sauce at The Bongo Room in Wicker Park told me that.

So I added some leftover shredded parmesan cheese to the sauce and started up the skillet for the eggs. This was my very first experience with poached eggs. Mark Bittman and I evidently have differing opinions on what it means for a skillet of water to “barely bubble,” and I blame him at least in part. The first egg, being sacrificed first to the pan, then to the paper towel on which it was drained, then to the floor upon which its tender yolk landed with a half-splat/half-squirt, didn’t go so well. I turned up the heat a little and tried another one which ended up ugly but cooked just right for Stresch’s tastes. Ditto the third. For the last two, I decided to try covering them after putting them into the pan. They were slightly less grotesque and adequately cooked even though the skillet boiled over partway through cooking, putting out the flame, and I had to scramble to get the back burner going so they’d continue cooking.

With the skillet lid over the eggs to keep them warm, I moved on to setting up the plates. One slice each of sesame semolina, a thick puff of parmigiano-reggiano right off the microplane zester, and a little garnish of parsley. Except that maybe it wasn’t parsley. It looked far more like cilantro. I tasted it, and even though it tasted like parsley, I wasn’t convinced. It still looked like cilantro. I referenced Chez Panisse Vegetables: no help at all. I referenced Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, and bless Ms. Madison’s soul, I discovered that parsley’s leaves have short stems that break off the main stem opposite one another and cilantro’s leaves bunch together right next to the stem. I definitely had parsley.

After squatting on the floor with parsley clutched in my hands, it was stuck to me, and I barely had time to get it back in the bag, in the refrigerator, and my hands rinsed before Stresch walked in the door. (Being pasted with wet herbs isn’t my idea of aloof or sexy, and it doesn’t inspire others’ confidence in my cooking skills.)

We sat down with our eggs, bread, cheese, and sauce, and we sipped orange juice from wine glasses. It was quite tasty, if I do say so myself, and we even have leftover sauce.