When really I was anything but. In the past eight months I've moved home, started two jobs, re-navigated the waters (both figuratively and literally) of the mass transit system and generally been deliriously happy to make a life in my native northwest. I teach at community college, I enter data for farmers, and I find time to cook and sleep in between. Today, I felt the irresistable urge to post on my lunch break. So here are some highlights:
1. I love this recipe. It brought me to buy a mandolin. I am still actively seeking excellent frozen puff pastry.
2. Matt collected wild blackberries this summer while job hunting. We made runny blackberry jam that people compliment even though they don't have too.
3. The cheese plate here is something I think about before falling asleep at night.
4. I've had this book on my shelf for years, and only recently really dived into it. I stand by the soups first and foremost. And the Teff peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. In fact, I've become such a devotee, I bought the second.
5. I made Matt and his mom wait for over an hour to eat here. Canadian hipster. The only things that might come close to waiting an hour for are the Shao Bing and a whiskey/ginger fizz business that was by far the best thing I ate/drank all night.
That is all for now. Back to farmer support. XXOO.
Kelsey
Excellence
My mister is crazy about T.V shows, and he introduced me to Frasier a couple months ago. I can hardly say "introduced me" because I've known about it as long as I've been watching T.V. It was the show that played absolutely non-stop when I was a teenager. Every time I wanted to sneak an episode of Friends after dinner without my parents knowing (T.V was against the rules), Frasier was on. I found this more than annoying. I didn't understand the jokes! So I never appreciated the beauty of Frasier. But since I started episode 1. season 1., I understand what all the fuss was about.
I grew up thinking T.V was bad, forbidden, and basically evil. I was always trying to sneak programs and watch what all my friends were watching. My parents, especially my mom, seemed to think T.V was going to kill me, ruin my "angelic" thoughts, or "put ideas into my head." Well, there were certainly enough of those "ideas" in my "angelic" head, and I certainly managed to get into enough trouble without T.V, so I'm not sure what all the fuss was about. Turns out, Frasier is hilarious. Jean-baptiste and I watch it drinking chamomile tea and eating popcorn dusted with nutritional yeast. We kill ourselves laughing! This has been a good addition to my sometimes, over-serious life.
Frasier, the protagonist, is always learning. He always takes himself way too seriously, and often says or does the most ridiculous things, but in the end, he laughs at himself and learns. His family and friends help him see through his arrogance and pull him off his high horse. The beauty of this show is that everyone sees themselves in all the characters. I, like Frasier, take myself too seriously. This can be a good thing and a bad one; it comes from a strong desire to be excellent. But I can't be so excellent if I'm so worried about not being excellent. Sometimes I worry so much about being excellent, or not being excellent, I forget why I wanted to be excellent in the first place. It boils down to one question: What is this excellence anyway?
Excellence is making eggplant parmesan, listening to Revolver (the mono recording), and singing along at the top of my lungs. Excellence is a cappuccino with Jean-Baptiste at Olympico, our favourite café, with my legs on his lap, and his huge grin and bad jokes. Excellence is a slice of lemon cake topped with a spoonful of thick crème fraiche and a cup of tea. Excellence is riding my bicycle in the early fall wind to the market to buy a squash to make soup. Excellence is this. that. and the old man over there sitting on a bench chewing a cigar. Excellence is wandering around used CD stores, not buying anything, just looking, clad in a long wool coat, leather boots and a beret. It's simple people: whatever we have right now is excellent. And if you find yourself saying, no! This is not excellent! This is hell! Well, it's pretty excellent that you're alive and breathing and kicking. Life just goes in a circles anyways, from day to night, from night to day. So go stand on top of a mountain or by the sea and give this old life of ours a good, loud yell.
Or simply make a little dish for supper, light some candles, invite someone you love for dinner, and dig in.
Either way, it will all be excellent.
Eggplant Parmesan
Adapted from Jamie's Italy
There are many ways to make eggplant parmesan and recipes may vary. The dish I make involves sliced, roasted eggplant layered with parmesan cheese and fresh tomato sauce. The following proportions can be adjusted to taste.
Serves 2
Preheat the oven to 350 F
1 big eggplant
Olive oil
Slice the eggplant about half an inch thick and lay slightly overlapping in a roasting pan.
Brush the eggplant on one side with oil.
Put pan into oven and roast until soft and slightly brown. About 35-40 minutes.
olive oil
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
6-7 big tomatoes or a whole can of tomatoes
fresh/dried basil and oregano
salt/pepper
a splash of balsamic vinegar
Make the sauce while the eggplant cooks.
Heat some olive oil in a pan. Chop the onion and saute it until soft. Chop the garlic or use a garlic press and add it to the onion, stirring so it doesn't burn.
Chop the tomatoes (I don't take the skin off or remove the seeds) and add them to the onion and garlic. Season with basil and oregano. Season with salt and pepper. Let simmer until the sauce is bubbling and juicy. About 30 minutes. Taste and add a splash of balsamic vinegar.
4 handfuls of bread crumbs
1/2 C grated parmesan cheese
Grate the parmesan cheese.
Pour 1 TBS of olive oil or melted butter into a bowl with the crumbs and mix around. This will keep them from burning in the oven.
Pour a bit of sauce into a small gratin or casserole dish (remember this is a dish for two). This will give the bottom layer of eggplant some moisture. Place the eggplant on the bottom of the dish side by side so there is little space between slices. Pour half the sauce on top. Sprinkle with parmesan cheese. Add the final layer of eggplant. Add the rest of the sauce. Sprinkle on the rest of the cheese. Sprinkle on the crumbs.
Cover the dish with foil and bake at 350 F until bubbling. About 30 minutes. Remove the foil and let the top brown under the boiler.
Serve with braised greens, some crusty bread, and cheese. This would also be a great accompaniment for fish or steak. Red wine, yes please.
Enjoy this life, this excellence.
Until next time,
- j
Billy Goats
When I was a wee little thing, Katherine and I shared a room (to my dismay). When we were younger, between the ages of 2 and 8, we played a lot together in our bedroom. One of the games we played was called Billy Goats. We named it after these lumpy looking, dried fruit and nut cookies that Dad used to make. He'd make them in enormous batches and put them in a huge Tupperware container. And then, if we were lucky, and if we hadn't eaten too many cookies already, he would play the game with us.
Like many siblings who shared a room, we had bunk beds. Dad would hang a pink and green flowered sheet from the top bunk so it completely covered the bed. He would crawl onto the top bunk and hide. Then he would tie cookies onto the end of a string hanging off of a makeshift bamboo fishing rod and dangle them off the end of the bed. Katherine and I would pull on the cookie, just like little fishies do, and dad would pretend there was a monster on the line. Sometimes he would pull the cookie back before we could get at it, and sometimes he would let us gloriously snatch the cookie while we collapsed in a fit of giggles and ate our prize.
Unfortunately, I do not have any pictures of us playing this delightful game. That would of been a real hoot. I'm sure it involved dressing up in costumes. We had a dress-up box, you know. Any chance we had, we were digging through the dress-up box, putting on over-sized high heels, dragging dresses, stained satin gloves, and poofy hats. There was usually some fighting over who would get to wear what, and I usually won. Poor little bit... Then I would put my hands on my hips and order her to do something or steal her cookie. She's not such an all-adoring push over now though. Oh no.Tonight I made some of these cookies. Turns out they're called Hermits in the Joy of Cooking, not Billy Goats. In fact, I'm not sure Dad even made them from the Joy. I'm not even sure we called the game Billy Goats. Memory is so fluid! But that is how I remember things. The cookies were paler, smaller, and more rock-like looking than what you see in the picture. I didn't have brown sugar so I added some molasses. I had no dates so I used raisins. I had no ground cloves so I added cardamom in its place. And I added chocolate chips. Dad never put in chocolate chips. These were supposed to be healthy cookies. But what the heck, they're a put-in-whatever-you-want kind of cookie.
I just ate one. Mine are delicious. I'm going immediately consume another one. I bet they get better with age too. I'm also going to call Dad to see if he actually followed this recipe. I'm sure he did not.
Billy Goats
As adapted from memory
Makes 24 2-inch cookies
Oven: 350 F.
1/2 C butter
1 C packed brown sugar
Cream together until well blended. Hopefully you have beaters. I did not. Damn it.
1 egg
1 C milk/buttermilk/sour cream
Add to butter mixture and blend well.
1 1/3 flour
3/4 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp clove/cardamom
1/4 tsp bk. soda (used powder by accident)
Wisk together and add to wet ingredients. Before everything is combined, add below ingredients and stir until well-blended.
1/2 C chopped raisins, dates, figs, apricots, or citron
1/4 C nutmeats (used 1/2 C)
1/4 C coconut
1/4 C chocolate chips (if you're so inclined. but the chocolate will take over the other flavours.)
Use a spoon to measure out the amounts. Space well on a greased baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes, turning the trays 3/4 of the way through if your oven is hotter at the back, or until just brown around the edges.
PS: if you want to play the game, you'll need to make your cookies much smaller. About half the size. Add more nuts and things to make the batter thicker. That should give them more of a pebble like quality which is more favourable to tying onto the ends of string.
Gone Fishing.... In my dreams!
Heath Pottery
I remember the first piece of Heath pottery mom brought home. It was a moonstone bread and butter plate, she had bought at Laguna Pottery in Seattle, a vintage pottery store that sells American pottery. She said in that delightful sing-song voice of hers: "Oh! I just wanted to see what you all thought of the colour!" But she had, in fact, been researching this pottery for years and was on the brink of a purchasing streak that has continued even today.
This looks something like our cupboards in the Victoria kitchen.
I think she's always been fascinated with beautiful things, especially pottery and china. I remember going on errands with her when I was younger, and we'd always end up walking around in the Bay department store so she could look at specials on linens and china. While I was growing up, my musician parents didn't have tons of money for fancy tableware, but we had good quality dishes that were beautiful in their own way. Once they changed jobs and had little extra money, the Heath pottery started coming in.
Heath pottery isn't fancy. It's beautiful. Heath Ceramics was founded by Edith Heath (1911-2005) in the mid-forties. She designed her pottery and tiles to be timeless and outlast trends. Some of her work is still on display in museums such as the MOMA in New York, and special lines of pottery have been made for such celebrated restaurants as Chez Panisse. She also won the AIA gold medal award for her work on the exterior of the Pasedena Norton Simon Museum: 115,000 glazed tiles.
Heath Ceramics was recently purchased by a couple in 2003 who were committed to maintaining Heath's founding environmental principles. The factory is located in Sausalito, California, just across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Fransisco. The ceramics are made by salaried employees with benefits, some of who have been at the company for 25 years. They use California clay and environmental firing practices such as one-time firings at lower temperatures instead of the common two-time firings. They mix their own clay and glazes on site. The people at Heath Ceramics are committed to making a local product with materials from the area and for people of the area. Products that last a life time.
This pottery, as you may have guessed, is not cheap for all the reasons listed above. But as my ever-frugal father likes to say: "They are works of art, and I would rather have a few beautiful things instead of many mediocre ones." It also comes down to how much we love eating: eating off of beautiful dishes just enhances the experience. You could call us materialistic, but my family used to sit around for hours after dinner talking about which colours went the best together. Katherine and I would make the odd exclamation about what colours we wanted for our future homes, and there would be other odd interjections and disagreements, and the conversation would continue on. It has changed and shaped out little funny lives.
This summer, we went to Yosemite National Park in July for my Uncle Jeff's wedding. On the way home, we stopped in Sausalito and visited the factory. They weren't giving tours that day, but when we walked in, we must have all been grinning from ear to ear because the people behind the counter exclaimed: "Wow! You guys must be really happy to be here!" Of all the things to do in our four hours in San Fran, we picnicked up on California's brown dry hills and looked at that famous bridge, and then we went to the pottery store.
At the store, they sell a lot of seconds, which are pieces that are moderately flawed and 30% off! I bought myself some linen tea cups that I've been eying for ages. They go very well with my moonstone pottery that my parents gave to me.
And after all this talk about the beauty of pottery and eating accessories, I would like to add that I experienced the same pleasure from going to my friend Libby's grandmother's house where they've eaten off of simple, white Corningware dishes for as long as anyone can remember. The simplicity of it all seemed such a lovely contrast to the long, and sometimes complex, conversations about Heath. And there's something really refreshing about all white.
Jamie Oliver's Lemon Sherbet
Jean-Baptiste and I have been frequenting local ice cream shops on a regular basis this summer. What better thing is there to do? In Montreal, ice cream shops are abundant, and good, home-made ice cream is not hard to come by. A couple months ago, early in our budding relationship, we went to a place close to my house call Chez Roberto. It's an Italian restaurant that sells gelato and sorbets. Jean-Baptiste ordered pear and lemon sorbet, one scoop of each in a little dish. I don't remember what I got as my choices paled in comparison, but I vaguely remember tasting cherry and chocolate and peach - and although it may sound good, it was not a winning combination. We ate our gelato (and sorbet) in a near-by park with children climbing on brightly coloured play equipment and splashing through fountains. It was a perfectly gorgeous, early summmer day. I finished my ice cream, which was good, but nothing compared to what was happening next to me. Jean-Baptiste was staring fixedly at his cup while vigorously spooning sorbet into his mouth, grunting and slurping with pleasure. He was generous enough to share, and, oh wow! The lemon flavour was so precise, so fresh, so lemon. The pear so sweet, so soft, so pear. When he finished, he immediately announced he wanted more, and we returned for another cup of lemon and pear to share.This got me thinking of lemon sorbet. Then I remembered a recipe for lemon sherbet in Jamie Oliver's Italian cookbook that didn't require an ice cream maker. But what's the difference between sorbet and sherbet, you may be asking yourself? Sorbets are "smooth, creamless ice creams made from a sugar syrup base." Sherbets are "made by adding a little bit of cream to a sorbet base." This small amount of cream creates that slightly fizzy taste in your mouth when you eat it. The following recipe does require three to four hours - something I hardly seem to have these days - but it is easy easy easy. It just requires you to spend 6 bucks on mascarpone and about 2 bucks on lemons. (Don't worry, the mascarpone keeps for a LONG time, giving you plenty of time to make tiramisu, another item on my list.) The sugar and water you have on hand, I assume. Although it took me three weeks to organize myself and make the sherbet, I finally did it, and ooh boy, it was worth it!
Sorbetto di limone
special lemon sherbet
Adapted from Jamie's Italy
This recipe makes a tart, but sweet, very lemon-tasting sherbet. It's perfectly perfect for the summer. And doesn't require a fancy ice cream maker!
Serves 6
1 C sugar
1 C water
1 C lemon juice
zest of 1 lemon
1 heaping tablespoon of mascarpone
- Pre-freeze a shallow dish, a sauce pan, or a pyrex baking dish.
- Put the sugar and water into a pan and bring to a boil, then let simmer for 5 minutes. The liquid will be clear and slightly syrupy.
- Take it off the heat and let it cool for 15 minutes.
- Add the lemon juice and zest.
- Add the mascarpone and whisk until it's all incorporated. The mixture will be milky.
- Taste your syrup to see whether you need to adjust the lemon or sweetness. How much lemon juice and sugar you use will depend on your lemons.
- Pour the syrup into your pre-frozen dish and put it in the freezer. Let it sit for an hour.
- After an hour, stir the sherbet, forking up any frozen bits. The outside will freeze first so make sure you run your fork or spoon around the outside.
- Wait another hour and stir again.
- Wait another hour and stir again.
- Then let it be for another hour and it's ready to serve!
- The sherbet will keep in the freezer covered in plastic wrap or with a lid for 3 days before it starts to crystallize.
- Stirring is very important as that is what gives the sherbet a smooth texture.
Northwest Notes
1. I LOVE LOCAL STONE FRUIT. Lord, I'd forgotten. And berries. Sheesh. I bought local "apriums" (apricot plums) at a farmers' market and grinned like an idiot all the way home.
2. Wonderful, kind friends from high school have simply folded me in. I could not be more grateful. They are good eaters also (excellent). I see many fine eats and evenings in my future.
3. I found an apartment. I love it AND they have giant herbs going crazy in the yard AND a wild raspberry bush. I told mom I am going to love that rapsberry bush, take care of it, talk sweet nothings into its little ear, and soon, we will all have jam.
4. I am making pesto for my fam tonight. Here is our favorite recipe a la Marcella Hazaan (arguable the queen of all things Italian). Also, Judes, it is time for us to organize our recipe archive - because I am pretty sure I've posted this before but can't find it.
Blender Pesto
What you need:
2 cups fresh basil leaves (or two whopping handfuls)
2 tablespoons pine nuts (or if you are feeling poor - but remove the bitter skins by toasting breifly and then rubbbing around in a terry cloth towel)
2 cloves garlic, peeled
Coarse Salt
1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
2 tbsp Romano pecorino (again, if you are feeling poor just use whatever hard italian cheese you can get your hands on for both the parm & ramano)
1/2 cup olive oil
3 tbsp butter, room temperature
What you do:
In a blender, food processor or on a cutting board with incredible zeal, combine garlic, nuts, salt and basil until very fine and paste like. If using blender or food processor add oil and whiz up until consistent. If using a cutting board put paste into bowl and blend in olive oil until uniform. Then, regardless of previous methods, beat in cheese and butter until uniform. Serve over hot pasta, bake on top of some chicken breast, dip bread in it, bath in it - whatever you need.
5. I've frozen a jabilion local strawberries. Come visit. I'll make you a wicked cocktail in November and you will ask - what is that delightful sweet tang - I will answer - WA strawberries preserved in July for your enjoyment in the ongoing gray of Seattle Winter/Fall/Spring.
2. Wonderful, kind friends from high school have simply folded me in. I could not be more grateful. They are good eaters also (excellent). I see many fine eats and evenings in my future.
3. I found an apartment. I love it AND they have giant herbs going crazy in the yard AND a wild raspberry bush. I told mom I am going to love that rapsberry bush, take care of it, talk sweet nothings into its little ear, and soon, we will all have jam.
4. I am making pesto for my fam tonight. Here is our favorite recipe a la Marcella Hazaan (arguable the queen of all things Italian). Also, Judes, it is time for us to organize our recipe archive - because I am pretty sure I've posted this before but can't find it.
Blender Pesto
What you need:
2 cups fresh basil leaves (or two whopping handfuls)
2 tablespoons pine nuts (or if you are feeling poor - but remove the bitter skins by toasting breifly and then rubbbing around in a terry cloth towel)
2 cloves garlic, peeled
Coarse Salt
1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
2 tbsp Romano pecorino (again, if you are feeling poor just use whatever hard italian cheese you can get your hands on for both the parm & ramano)
1/2 cup olive oil
3 tbsp butter, room temperature
What you do:
In a blender, food processor or on a cutting board with incredible zeal, combine garlic, nuts, salt and basil until very fine and paste like. If using blender or food processor add oil and whiz up until consistent. If using a cutting board put paste into bowl and blend in olive oil until uniform. Then, regardless of previous methods, beat in cheese and butter until uniform. Serve over hot pasta, bake on top of some chicken breast, dip bread in it, bath in it - whatever you need.
5. I've frozen a jabilion local strawberries. Come visit. I'll make you a wicked cocktail in November and you will ask - what is that delightful sweet tang - I will answer - WA strawberries preserved in July for your enjoyment in the ongoing gray of Seattle Winter/Fall/Spring.
Coffee Cake Supreme
I remember an argument I had with a best friend when I was seven. We often fought about everything from religious differences to what we were going to wear, and in this case, to what one should eat for breakfast. At recess, I told my friend my mom had made coffee cake for breakfast, as she sometimes did for a special treat, even though it was a weekday. A simple cake, low in butter and sugar, but with the characteristic flour, butter, and sugar crumble for topping. My friend couldn't believe I had eaten cake for breakfast. I tried to explain that coffee cake was something made specifically for breakfast, and was very irritated that even after detailed explanation, she would accept that my mother had allowed me to eat cake for breakfast.
I still have to explain to people what coffee cake is. Most french-speaking people I know think it's a cake made out of coffee. Others think, much like Bethany did, that it's absurd to eat cake for breakfast. Perhaps it is? But coffee cakes range in richness and texture. Some are made with yeast, others, like the one below, are made with baking powder and soda. They can be light and airy like brioche or dense like cake. My parents always made coffee cake when I was growing up. For birthdays, we make a yeast coffee cake from the Joy of Cooking that has been a family tradition for years. On Christmas morning, we make another lemon-flavoured yeast coffee cake, also a long-standing family tradition. Cakes are for celebration, and what better thing is there to celebrate than the morning? So go! Eat cake for breakfast!
I've been wanting to make Tom Douglas' Sour Cream Blueberry Coffee Cake for ages. The breakfast section in his Seattle Kitchen cookbook is unreal. There is not one recipe I have made that has been unsatisfactory in terms of breakfast foods. It starts off with a long discourse on the importance of coffee and the hottest places to get breakfast in Seattle. This coffee cake has to be one of the best I've tasted. But save yourself: Tom D goes heavy on the butter and sugar. I reduced the amounts called for, and we still dug in with exclamations of: mmmm, so buttery! oh wow! unreal!
Tom Douglas' Sour Cream Blueberry Coffee Cake
Adapted from Tommy Douglas' Seattle Kitchen
I used whole spelt flour which lends a very tender crumb and a wholesome nutty flavour. And, as mentioned above, I reduced the amounts of butter and sugar, but mostly just in the cake. I didn't hold back on the streusel. Streusel's need the full amount of butter and sugar, in my opinion. The next time I make it, I might reduce the amounts even more. It's quite buttery as it is. You can easily double the amounts to make enough to fill a 9 X 11 baking pan.
Preheat oven to 350 F.
Grease a 9-inch cake pan.
For the Streusel:
1/3 C whole spelt flour
1/3 C firmly packed brown sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon (optional)
4 TBS (3/4) stick cold butter
- Mix the dry ingredients together
- Cut in the butter using your fingers or a pastry blender. Using your fingers works best so you can achieve a fine cornmeal-like texture.
- Put into the fridge until the cake is ready to bake.
For the Coffee Cake:
1 1/4 C whole spelt flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt (if using unsalted butter)
3/4 C butter
1/2 C sugar
2 eggs
1/2 C sour cream
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 C blueberries
- In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt (if using).
- In another bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
- Add the eggs one at a time to the butter and sugar. Follow with the sour cream and vanilla. Mix until well blended.
- Add the dry ingredients to the butter and sugar mixture in three parts.
- Fold in the berries.
- The batter will be very thick.
- Pour into greased pan and bake for 35-40 minutes or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean.
If it's scorching hot and humid outside, like it is right now in Montreal, perhaps you'd like to make some iced coffee the night before? Coffee is the proper accompaniment for such a cake, you know.
Cold Brewed Iced Coffee
Brewing coffee cold over night produces a mellower drink with hints of caramel and chocolate. Here's how:
Use a French press if you have one, but if you don't, a jar will work fine.
- Mix 1/3 C coarsely-ground coffee and 1 1/2 C cold water in a French press or jar.
- Let stand on the counter over night or for 12 hours. This makes a sort of coffee extract.
- In the morning, press down the coffee in your French press or filter the brew through a coffee filter or cheese cloth TWICE.
- Pour equal amounts coffee extract and water into a glass with ice. Add milk if you wish.
Oh my lord! Everyone is rejoicing because now I'll stop talking about making iced coffee or finding iced coffee or drinking iced coffee; I simply just did it. But it's been a long time coming.
Happy breakfasting folks!
The Return
Look at my herb garden! And my Japanese barbecue! I found the hibachi by chance when I was planting my herbs. When I opened the closet door on my balcony, which I rarely do, to put away my bag of dirt, a dirty, dusty plastic bag caught my eye. I pulled at it, and feeling that it was heavy, gave a little squeal. Could it be a barbecue? And not only was it a barbecue, it was a hibachi, the same kind my dad cooked on when he was just a little older than I and living with my mom in Chicago. Apparently, he ran up and down the stairs of their fourth floor apartment to cook in the alley. He's always talked about it as being a great compact way to barbecue in all sorts of weather. I can't believe my luck! There's even some charcoal, matches, and fire starter. I guess things just come our way.
Recently, I had to retire my old skateboarding helmet (I'm a terrible skateboarder, but I wore it biking, and it made me feel like a total bad ass.) I was sad to part with it, but after being dropped multiple times on the ground and being worn for five years, the outside had completely come unglued. I bought a new, very fast-looking blue helmet to replace it, but I kept the outside of my old helmet and, under someone's suggestion, planted some basil in it. Can't wait to eat pesto!
I can't insist enough on the importance of breakfast. I'd swim the Pacific ocean, braving shark bites, dehydration, and tankers for a breakfast of any kind. It's also my favourite meal to cook. And it's even better when there's someone else around to share it with. My favourite solitary breakfast is popped amaranth and strong black tea. I first learned about popping amaranth seeds when reading this article on the Gluten-Free Girl's blog last year. Ever since, I've been popping these little grains for breakfast. But popping it has been quite tricky. It often ended in my gripping the pot handle, pleading with the grains, begging them not burn. Finally, I figured out a way that works: Put a little bit of oil in a saucepan pan with a few seeds, turn the heat to max, and wait until the seeds start to pop. When they start popping, pour 1/3 C amaranth seeds into the pan and stir until most of the grains are popped and the cereal has increased in volume. Amaranth seeds are really tiny and they burn easily, so stirring is really important. Before, I used to put the lid on the pot and shake like I would for popcorn. Except this doesn't really work. Constant stirring does, and with minimal burning and minimal damage to the bottoms of my saucepans, I've figured out a stress-free way to eat this all the time. It's really high in protein and TOO delicious with blueberries and toasted almonds. Don't forget to go heavy on the maple syrup or honey.
I've been eating breakfast by myself for a long time. Almost two years. Even if I have to go running off to work or to school, it's always been my favourite time of day. And I always give myself some time to have tea, munch on something kinda sweet, and read an article or two. But something's changed... and I'm not so solitary. See? Those are someone else's lovely hands in the photo!
Two and a half months ago, I was invited to dinner by a friend. When I walked into the kitchen, there he was, standing there all tall and thin, with those big blue eyes and rectangular glasses. And then I learned he played tennis. And then I learned he was a sound engineer. And then I learned how much he loved bike-riding. And then I learned he loved to eat, that his family loved to eat. And now I'm learning how funny he is. How goofy he is. How patient he is. How good he makes me feel. And how unbelievably wonderful it is to share this life with someone you wake up to and just wanna squeeze 'cause they're so great. Mr. Jean-Baptiste! Your whole being is a delight. I'm glad I know you. Eating breakfast with someone has never been more wonderful. Even if it's while watching the World Cup. You know, I'm even enjoying the world cup. Sure, I read most of the time, but it's nice you love it so much.
When I was little, my mom made us fruit and yogurt popsicles for snacks. She used all kinds of berries and usually honey as a sweetener. I remember wearing my favourite Hanna Anderson dress and eating popsicles with my sister out in the back yard. Mom would my working in the garden, trying to get us to help, but we'd be (me especially) flitting about, trying to avoid helping at all costs. I'm sure Katherine was very willing to help initially, but I probably encouraged some sort of rebellion on her part. Oh to be young and wild! Mom also made limonade or apple juice popsicles, but my favourites were the yogurt ones. This week, yogurt and blueberries were on sale, so I made some. Blend 1 pint of blueberries, 1 C yogurt, and 1/4 C sugar in a blender or with a hand-held blender and pour it into popsicle molds. Delicious. This made a bit more than I needed, so I put it into bowls. I have to let the bowl sit on the counter for a while before the yogurt's soft enough to eat, but whatever. To unmold the popsicle, just run it under hot water until it pops out. I recommend playing with these quantities to find the right sweetness and consistency that you like.
Excuses
Well - I've been three weeks absent from our blog. You noticed, I'm sure.
But my excuse is excellent: I haven't cooked. Living at home means my Dad pretty much does everything, and with great panache. He still makes Risotto on a week night, he still does daily European style runs to the grocery store, and he still cooks for a brood of 20 rather than 3, resulting in excellent leftover lunches. He's decided it is OK for me to make the salad dressing, or bake - so there have been a few contributions in those areas, but nothing of real note.
I've also spent a great deal of time apartment hunting. Matt & I have an admittedly low budget, but I refuse to live somewhere with a disgusting, dark, galley style kitchen. This is proving a real challenge. I hold out hope however.
Judes, I hope your excuse is a whirlwind summer romance or vacation or new work, or just a well deserved break. Miss you, and much love.
K
P.S. I was permitted a hand in Father's Day menu planning - here's what we ate:
Dr. Pepper Ribs (We substituted Sky natural soda, Dr. Becker, because you can't get Dublin Dr. Peppers out here).
Cornbread
Grilled Potato Salad
Mixed green salad with toasted pecans, blueberries and a maple mustard vinagrette
Grandma's all real strawberry pie (recipe forthcoming - should she reveal her secrets!)
But my excuse is excellent: I haven't cooked. Living at home means my Dad pretty much does everything, and with great panache. He still makes Risotto on a week night, he still does daily European style runs to the grocery store, and he still cooks for a brood of 20 rather than 3, resulting in excellent leftover lunches. He's decided it is OK for me to make the salad dressing, or bake - so there have been a few contributions in those areas, but nothing of real note.
I've also spent a great deal of time apartment hunting. Matt & I have an admittedly low budget, but I refuse to live somewhere with a disgusting, dark, galley style kitchen. This is proving a real challenge. I hold out hope however.
Judes, I hope your excuse is a whirlwind summer romance or vacation or new work, or just a well deserved break. Miss you, and much love.
K
P.S. I was permitted a hand in Father's Day menu planning - here's what we ate:
Dr. Pepper Ribs (We substituted Sky natural soda, Dr. Becker, because you can't get Dublin Dr. Peppers out here).
Cornbread
Grilled Potato Salad
Mixed green salad with toasted pecans, blueberries and a maple mustard vinagrette
Grandma's all real strawberry pie (recipe forthcoming - should she reveal her secrets!)
Mankato, Minnesota, adieu.
With less than 24 hours left in Minnesota there are a few folks/meals/locations I'd like to highlight for my own memorializing, and future visitors.
St. John's Episcopal Church
The first sermon Matt & I heard here was on how Jesus wants us to fight oppressive systems (ummm, YES). Philanthropic efforts include fair trade organizations & goods, Heifer International and Pride Fest. The rector selects hip swaying gospel themed hymns which the staunchly stiff congregation does their best to get into. In other words, it is perfect. We were more than embraced, and forever grateful for this faithful, kind, progressive place.
Christy's Cafe
This family run spot is perhaps the finest dining establishment in Mankato. They are dedicated to supporting the local Farmers' Market and providing excellent homemade fare. Christy's is Diner done better. One or both of the owners are always there (I am fairly certain they NEVER get a day off). When my parents came to visit, we ate here two days in a row. Their huevos rancheros are the best I've had outside of Texas, and I would give anything for a daily delivery of their pastry. A favorite breakfast that will be dearly, dearly missed.
Matt's Family
We've been supported, loved, and fed by Matt's Midwestern relatives. I will miss post thanksgiving shopping with his Grandmother and Aunt and fresh Walleye at the lake, and his cousin Jack's lacrosse games. They are quick to provide libations and hors d'ouvers, slow to irritate and smart, witty folk. I love them and will miss them dearly.
The Filling Station
I always see someone I know at the Filling Station. The carry and sell free trade loose leaf tea and have excellent pistachio biscotti. With eclectic and squishy furniture and a frequent flow of eccentric locals - what more could you want? Seriously.
The Snow
I both love and hate the snow. It is so beautiful, quiet - but equally a huge pain in the ass when you need to actually GO anywhere. All that to be said, I think I will miss it. The serenity of snow is unrivaled, and waking up to that level of peace is a rare and valuable moment.
Painted Hill Farm
Not only do these folks have the most gorgeous farm, but they also produce the finest pork I've ever tasted. I doubt I will find meat so fine in the Northwest and on cold winter nights when all I want is pulled pork, mashed potatoes and a side of broccoli, I will weap a little bit remembering the Thompson's and their damn fine meat.
I will leave you dear readers, and Minnesota, with a poem by Wendall Berry. I've learned a lot in Minnesota about making a home, building relationships, selecting food, growing plants, and appreciating weather. Generally I've learned that little of this can be controlled and that is, in essence, what makes all of it so equally terrifying and stunningly beautiful.
St. John's Episcopal Church
The first sermon Matt & I heard here was on how Jesus wants us to fight oppressive systems (ummm, YES). Philanthropic efforts include fair trade organizations & goods, Heifer International and Pride Fest. The rector selects hip swaying gospel themed hymns which the staunchly stiff congregation does their best to get into. In other words, it is perfect. We were more than embraced, and forever grateful for this faithful, kind, progressive place.
Christy's Cafe
This family run spot is perhaps the finest dining establishment in Mankato. They are dedicated to supporting the local Farmers' Market and providing excellent homemade fare. Christy's is Diner done better. One or both of the owners are always there (I am fairly certain they NEVER get a day off). When my parents came to visit, we ate here two days in a row. Their huevos rancheros are the best I've had outside of Texas, and I would give anything for a daily delivery of their pastry. A favorite breakfast that will be dearly, dearly missed.
Matt's Family
We've been supported, loved, and fed by Matt's Midwestern relatives. I will miss post thanksgiving shopping with his Grandmother and Aunt and fresh Walleye at the lake, and his cousin Jack's lacrosse games. They are quick to provide libations and hors d'ouvers, slow to irritate and smart, witty folk. I love them and will miss them dearly.
The Filling Station
I always see someone I know at the Filling Station. The carry and sell free trade loose leaf tea and have excellent pistachio biscotti. With eclectic and squishy furniture and a frequent flow of eccentric locals - what more could you want? Seriously.
I both love and hate the snow. It is so beautiful, quiet - but equally a huge pain in the ass when you need to actually GO anywhere. All that to be said, I think I will miss it. The serenity of snow is unrivaled, and waking up to that level of peace is a rare and valuable moment.
Painted Hill Farm
Not only do these folks have the most gorgeous farm, but they also produce the finest pork I've ever tasted. I doubt I will find meat so fine in the Northwest and on cold winter nights when all I want is pulled pork, mashed potatoes and a side of broccoli, I will weap a little bit remembering the Thompson's and their damn fine meat.
I will leave you dear readers, and Minnesota, with a poem by Wendall Berry. I've learned a lot in Minnesota about making a home, building relationships, selecting food, growing plants, and appreciating weather. Generally I've learned that little of this can be controlled and that is, in essence, what makes all of it so equally terrifying and stunningly beautiful.
The Peace of Wild Things - Wendall Berry
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Salad Daze of Summer
Well, after 10 days in the Pacific Northwest, a graduation, and the acquisition of a job (!), Matt & I returned to a very stuffy, muggy, icky, hot Minnesota. Thankfully I will be leaving via jet plane next Monday to begin said job. Matt procured an air conditioner last night so that he can attempt to sleep through the night for the rest of what is sure to be an almost intolerably hot summer.
All that being said I am interested in eating only cold light dishes that require little to no oven prep as the apartment is already a sweltering 80+ degrees. The following have sustained us this week and are delicious, light, and blissfully easy.
Mediterranean Pasta Salad
What you need:
2 cucumbers
1 small package cherry tomatoes
5oz block of feta cheese, or 5oz crumbled feta
15ish pitted Kalamata olives
1/2 lb or 1/2 box of shapped pasta, I like rigatoni (the corkscrew kind)
Dried oregano
White Wine Vinegar
Olive Oil
Salt & Pepper
What you do:
Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. While you are waiting for water to boil, peel cucumbers, cut lengthwise and remove seeds with a spoon. Slice each half into three long strips, then dice crosswise to create cubes. Place cubed cucumber in a large bowl. Wash tomatoes and split lengthwise with a knife, add to cucumbers. Crumble feta into bowl as well. Chop olives to desired fineness and add to mixture. Toss the whole lot gently with a spoon or your hand.
When water comes to a boil, add pasta. When pasta is cooked al dente (a bite should be firm but not crunchy), pour water and pasta into sink over strainer. Carefully run cold, cold water over pasta tossing gently until pasta and strainer are cold to the touch. Be sure to check all the way through pasta, heat spots will remain and if you aren't thorough will melt your cheese.
Add pasta to veggie, cheese mixture. In a separate bowl mix 1/4 cup olive oil with 1/4 cup white wine vinegar (I like a really tangy, lightly dressed salad so this is how I do, if this isn't your style adjust accordingly. Conventional wisdom is 2 parts oil to 1 part vinegar). Add 1 tbsp dried oregano (or more!) and salt and pepper generously. Combine dressing briskly with a fork. Dump over pasta-veg mixture, and stir and toss gingerly. Cover bowl and refrigerate until the whole thing is well chilled. Great as a side or alone. I even garnish with a bit of lemon juice sometimes (I love me some acid, clearly).
Romain Strawberry Sesame Salad
What you need:
1 bag hearts of Romain
1 quart strawberries
Sesame Seeds
Soy Sauce
Rice Wine Vinegar
White Sugar
Salt Pepper
Sesame Oil
Optional additions: crunchy Asian noodles of any kind, sliced or diced chicken, avocado, peanuts, almonds, walnuts, pea pods, shredded carrot, whatever else you have floating around your kitch...
What you do:
(I make these by the plateful, a plate serves as a meal for one or as a side for two. The following describes how to assemble salad for 1 plate.)
On a cutting board, cut the end off of 1 heart of Romain. Discard end and continue slicing heart of Romain crosswise at about .5 inch intervals. When sliced rinse in a strainer, and shake to dry lettuce leaves, or spin in spinner.
Once leaves are dry, place them on a plate or in a large salad bowl. Slice four to five strawberries lengthwise, after carefully removing the stems. Place on top of lettuce. Sprinkle whole plate with about 1/2 tbsp of sesame seeds. Add whatever else you desire to top of salad...
In a small bowl measure 1 tsp white sugar, 2 tsp soy sauce, 2 tsp white wine vinegar, and 1/4 tsp sesame oil. Mix together vigorously with a fork. Taste and adjust to personal liking. (This can be made very nicely with a dash of orange juice also).
Pour dressing over salad and dig in. Watch that you don't slop all over yourself, because it is delicious and easy to get carried away. :)
All that being said I am interested in eating only cold light dishes that require little to no oven prep as the apartment is already a sweltering 80+ degrees. The following have sustained us this week and are delicious, light, and blissfully easy.
Mediterranean Pasta Salad
What you need:
2 cucumbers
1 small package cherry tomatoes
5oz block of feta cheese, or 5oz crumbled feta
15ish pitted Kalamata olives
1/2 lb or 1/2 box of shapped pasta, I like rigatoni (the corkscrew kind)
Dried oregano
White Wine Vinegar
Olive Oil
Salt & Pepper
What you do:
Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. While you are waiting for water to boil, peel cucumbers, cut lengthwise and remove seeds with a spoon. Slice each half into three long strips, then dice crosswise to create cubes. Place cubed cucumber in a large bowl. Wash tomatoes and split lengthwise with a knife, add to cucumbers. Crumble feta into bowl as well. Chop olives to desired fineness and add to mixture. Toss the whole lot gently with a spoon or your hand.
When water comes to a boil, add pasta. When pasta is cooked al dente (a bite should be firm but not crunchy), pour water and pasta into sink over strainer. Carefully run cold, cold water over pasta tossing gently until pasta and strainer are cold to the touch. Be sure to check all the way through pasta, heat spots will remain and if you aren't thorough will melt your cheese.
Add pasta to veggie, cheese mixture. In a separate bowl mix 1/4 cup olive oil with 1/4 cup white wine vinegar (I like a really tangy, lightly dressed salad so this is how I do, if this isn't your style adjust accordingly. Conventional wisdom is 2 parts oil to 1 part vinegar). Add 1 tbsp dried oregano (or more!) and salt and pepper generously. Combine dressing briskly with a fork. Dump over pasta-veg mixture, and stir and toss gingerly. Cover bowl and refrigerate until the whole thing is well chilled. Great as a side or alone. I even garnish with a bit of lemon juice sometimes (I love me some acid, clearly).
Romain Strawberry Sesame Salad
What you need:
1 bag hearts of Romain
1 quart strawberries
Sesame Seeds
Soy Sauce
Rice Wine Vinegar
White Sugar
Salt Pepper
Sesame Oil
Optional additions: crunchy Asian noodles of any kind, sliced or diced chicken, avocado, peanuts, almonds, walnuts, pea pods, shredded carrot, whatever else you have floating around your kitch...
What you do:
(I make these by the plateful, a plate serves as a meal for one or as a side for two. The following describes how to assemble salad for 1 plate.)
On a cutting board, cut the end off of 1 heart of Romain. Discard end and continue slicing heart of Romain crosswise at about .5 inch intervals. When sliced rinse in a strainer, and shake to dry lettuce leaves, or spin in spinner.
Once leaves are dry, place them on a plate or in a large salad bowl. Slice four to five strawberries lengthwise, after carefully removing the stems. Place on top of lettuce. Sprinkle whole plate with about 1/2 tbsp of sesame seeds. Add whatever else you desire to top of salad...
In a small bowl measure 1 tsp white sugar, 2 tsp soy sauce, 2 tsp white wine vinegar, and 1/4 tsp sesame oil. Mix together vigorously with a fork. Taste and adjust to personal liking. (This can be made very nicely with a dash of orange juice also).
Pour dressing over salad and dig in. Watch that you don't slop all over yourself, because it is delicious and easy to get carried away. :)
Spring Salad Fest
Spring Salad Fest has been happening all week at my apartment. It's finally hot and I certainly don't feel like eating anything that even flirts with raising my body temperature. Just salad. And this salad is a delicious one. Molly Wizenberg ate it for a week straight after she got engaged to her husband. I like that extreme: eating the same thing for an entire week because you're out-of-your-mind in disbelief something so lovely could happen to you. I started making it last spring and have picked it up again to celebrate Spring in Montreal: round two. And I've found no better way to spend my time than eating this light, tasty meal with a very funny, tennis-playing French man, who stumbled into my life not so long ago.
Sliced Spring Salad with Endive, Cilantro, Radishes, and Feta.
As adapted from M. Wizenberg
For two
Salad
2 medium Belgian endive, root end trimmed away, sliced crosswise into ¼-inch strips
1/2 head radicchio, sliced as thinly as possible
6 red radishes, sliced thin
Cilantro to taste
1 medium avocado, cubed
1/4 C feta
Vinaigrette
1 TBS Dijon mustard
3 TBS apple cider vinegar (or red wine)
1 tsp honey or maple syrup
1/2 tsp salt
5 TBS olive oil
- Whisk the mustard, vinegar, sweetner, and salt together.
- Slowly whisk in the olive oil until well combined.
- In a large bowl, combine the endive, radicchio, radishes, and cilantro leaves. Toss with vinaigrette to taste. Add the avocado and feta.
- Serve in two bowls with bread on the side.
Psst: you might still be hungry, so I suggest topping it off with some rhubarb crisp. You'll have some on hand, of course.
I scream, you scream, we all scream TONKATSU!
Lots of good things are happening lately, and one of them is pork tonkatsu, a delicious Japanese dish of pounded, breaded, and fried pork chops. This was a week-night special in my house growing up. I can still hear dad's hammering on the cutting board as he pounded out the boneless chops nice and thin. Can still see his hands flouring, egging, and breading the chops. Can hear them crackling around in the pan. Can remember refusing to eat the tangy, dark sauce and insisting instead on having ketchup - ah to have young and unappreciative taste buds, for there is ketchup in the sauce. We usually ate this with white rice and broccoli: a simple, quick, and oh-so-tasty meal, fit for a king and queen, or a family of four. The other day, I had it for lunch.
When I was growing up, I took the ease and deliciousness of tonkatsu for granted. Now, I turn to those old favourites to remind me of the "good ole times." But this time one thing was holding me back from satisfying my craving: I didn't have a meat pounder. This is a bit ridiculous, seeing as I bought a mandoline the other day. Mandoline's are much less useful than meat pounders. Why wouldn't I have just bought a meat pounder? Who knows. I guess I was waiting for one to come for me - that can be a fun approach sometimes, waiting. After complaining about this lack of pounder to Alix for almost four months, or so it seems, she lent me hers, poof! just like that.
I couldn't possibly wait any longer to make the recipe, so I marched off to the market, got myself some tasty little cutlets, and set to work. Here's what you do:
Pork TonkatsuAdapted from the BIRC (Best International Recipe Cookbook)
For two people
This recipe calls for bread crumbs. I strongly recommend finding some panko crumbs, Japanese bread crumbs. They're far superior to regular crumbs and easy to find nowadays. Just look in the foreign section of the grocery store! (If you have as terrible a foreign section as I do at my store down the street, you'll have to ride your bike a bit farther to the health food store, as I do, and you'll find them there for sure.)
The Chops
2 boneless pork chops, pounded to 1/4 inch thick
1/4 C cornstarch
1 large egg
1 C panko
2-4 TBS of vegetable oil
- To pound the pork chops, place them between some Seran wrap, and using a meat pounder, pound them until they're 1/4 inch thick. This will prevent bits of meat from flying everywhere. The Seran wrap will start to tear by the end, but this is nothing to worry about. Pound valiantly on!
- Set up three bowls: one with cornstarch, one with egg, and one with panko. Starting with the cornstarch, coat the chops first in cornstarch, then in egg, and then in panko. Use one hand for the egg and the other for the dry ingredients; otherwise, you'll stick to everything, and this is quite disagreeable. Set them on a wire rack to dry for 5 minutes.
- In the mean time, heat your medium-sized frying pan over medium-high heat and make the sauce.
The Sauce
1/4 C ketchup
1 TBS Wooster sauce (that's Worcestershire sauce for northern folk)
1 tsp soy sauce
1/4 tsp dry mustard powder
- whisk all ingredients together.
To Cook
- Heat the oil in the pan until shimmering. (I used much less than CI (Cooks Illustrated) calls for, but I'll let you be the judge. You don't want too much because it splatters everywhere and you worry about your heart, but you definitely want enough to give the chops a nice golden colour.)
- Cook each cutlet on each side for about 4 minutes. If they're thin enough and your pan is hot enough, they should cook quite quickly. I gave mine a poke to make sure they were firm, but slightly springy. CI recommends you cook them on each side for 2 1/2 minutes and then finish them in the oven. I decided this was a waste of electricity and left them in the pan for longer. It appeared to work BEAUTIFULLY.
Serving Suggestions
- Thinly slice the crispy chop and place it over a bed of soba or rice noodles, or just rice. Pour the sauce over top (see photo above!). I cooked my soba noodles in salted, boiling water and then sauteed them in the frying pan I cooked the pork in with some ginger, scallions and garlic. This was quite successful. There was also broccoli involved, which was also stupendously delicious.
So go buy those chops, buy that pounder, stand at that counter, and give 'er.
Ways to Woo Proffesors
I defended my Thesis two weeks ago, and as is per custom, I provided food. My food, was well, awesome. I spent weeks thinking about what I would serve, which deeply amused my office mates. I had to consider time of day, dietary restrictions, presentation, space, etc. This resulted in a lovely little non-alcoholic Mediterranean cocktail hour, and a very happy thesis committee. I also used it as an excuse to buy new serving ware (thank you T.J. Maxx).
The Menu:
Grapes
Cherry tomatoes
Cucumber Spears
Hummus
Whipped Feta
Marinated Olives (assorted)
Pita Chips
Grapes
Lemonade
DELCIOUS. I called all my friends over to my house after a (successful) defense and insisted they eat the leftovers. We did, but with the addition to wine.
Here is how you prep this baby:
The Menu:
Grapes
Cherry tomatoes
Cucumber Spears
Hummus
Whipped Feta
Marinated Olives (assorted)
Pita Chips
Grapes
Lemonade
DELCIOUS. I called all my friends over to my house after a (successful) defense and insisted they eat the leftovers. We did, but with the addition to wine.
Here is how you prep this baby:
- Grapes and tomatoes need simply be washed. I sometimes cut grapes into little clusters, but this is labor intensive, annoying, and somewhat unnecessary.
- Cucumber spears are a great way to eat cucumber, and they surprise people because they are not used to seeing cucumbers cut in this manner. First, peel the cucumber. Then slice in half. Slice each half lengthwise. Slice each half length into three long spears. Repeat for other sections. If cucumbers are particularly long, cut into thirds initially (each spear should be about 2.5 inches long). I prefer English cucumbers, but regular ones will work well too.
- Whipped Feta is something I cannot stop craving after having it prepared it for this little gathering. This comes straight from The Best International Recipe cookbook: In a food proccessor combine 1 pound feta, 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil, juice from 1 lemon, 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper, 1/4 tsp. ground black pepper. Process until smooth then transfer to a bowl and refrigerate until needed. I think the same results could be accomplished with a sturdy bowl and spoon and some serious elbow grease.
- I purchased my Hummus and Marinated Olives - but The Best International Recipe provides nice directions for making both on your own.
- Pita Chips are simple to make and WAY more delicious then the ones that come in foil bags. Buy or make your own pita bread. Then cut each slice into sixths. Pre-heat your oven to 400 degrees. Toss pita slices on a baking sheet with a generous glug of olive oil and more salt than seems necessary. Place in oven and bake until the edges of the pita slices begin to brown and desired crispyness is achieved. Serve immediatly or let cool and store in an airtight container for about 1 day.
- Lemonade should be GOOD lemonade, and by good I mean "not from concentrate." I likely Newman's Extra Virgin Lemonade and Simply Lemonade.
French-Style Yogurt Cake, Muscat, and Philip Glass
It was the yogurt cake that did it. Philip Glass also played a major role, but we'll get to that in a minute. About a month ago, as I was finishing my dinner, I had a craving for cake. Not cake with icing, just cake. How peculiar because I usually don't have cake lying around, nor had I been inspired to cook anything besides pad thai for weeks. But I remembered this French-style yogurt cake that Molly Wizenberg wrote about in her book A Homemade Life. I checked all the ingredients, deciding to use oranges instead of lemons, and set to work. When it came out of the oven, I made the glaze, poured it over top, and waited for it to cool. Around 10 PM, I cut myself a piece, leaned my back against the counter, and ate it in three bites. It was simple and moist and honest. If someone had served me this cake for tea, I would have jumped on the table to do a dance. I put half in the freezer and ate the rest for breakfast with scrambled eggs, after lunch, and late at night with a small glass of muscat (a sweet French white wine that keeps a long time and is delicious with yogurt cakes, I discovered).
One afternoon, I was translating and listening to Julie Nesrallah's show Tempo on CBC Radio 2, a to-die-for afternoon classical program, when Philip Glass came on. I'd been listening to Steve Reich for months and Glass studied under Reich. The piece she played was from the Hours soundtrack, a film about Virginia Woolf told through the eyes of three woman in different eras, inspired by the book by Michael Cunningham. I loved the movie when I saw it almost six years ago, and I loved it just as much when I watched it again last week. Virginia Woolf is one of my heroes and now so is Glass. He wrote the soundtrack and it is phenomenal. The music is dominated by string instruments that soar through these emotional repetitive passages that some how all tie together. We so often listen to music as background noise, but this was impossible for me to ignore. Then, I ordered three CD's online and haven't listened to much else since. I still come home from a long day and put on this soundtrack, flop down in my big orange kitchen chair, and listen listen listen. Glass has accompanied me while I eat, walk, and sleep. A great match for a late night slice of yogurt cake.
It's spring and I feel like I can write again, not to mention cook again. What joy!
French-Style Yogurt Cake with Orange
As adapted from M. Wizenberg
Yogurt cakes were made in France using a 125 ml yogurt jar for a measuring cup. Since we don't have yogurt jars like that anymore (sob) Molly's measured it out for us.
She calls for all canola oil but also suggests using a light, fruity olive oil. I used half and half, and it was wonderful. Next time I'd be tempted to use all olive oil.
The cake
1 1/2 C white flour
2 tsp baking powder
pinch of salt
2 tsp orange zest
1/2 C well stirred plain whole-milk yogurt (not non-fat!)
1 C white sugar
3 eggs
1/4 C vegetable oil, such as canola
1/4 C good, fruity olive oil
- Preheat oven to 350 F
- Grease a 9-inch cake pan with butter, line it with parchment paper, and grease it too. (If you don't do this, it's alright, you'll just have to be extra careful about taking the cake out of the pan.)
- Whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Add the orange zest.
- In a large bowl mix together the yogurt, sugar, eggs, and stir well.
- Add the flour to the large bowl and stir until just combined.
- Add the oil and stir well. It will look like a big oily mess, but it'll come together.
- Pour it into the pan and bake for 25-30 minutes, or until the top is lightly brown, and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
- Cool the cake in the pan on a rack for 15 minutes. Run a knife around the edge of the pan and invert it first onto a plate and then back onto the rack. Place the rack over a rimmed baking sheet.
- Make the syrup
The syrup
1/4 C powdered sugar
1/4 C orange juice
- Combine sugar and juice with a whisk.
- Pour the syrup over the cake. Let it the cake cool completely. The syrup will sink into the top layer.
*Molly calls for a little icing made from 1 C powdered sugar and 3 TBS of orange juice, but really, I'm not sure this cake needs it. But if you feel so inclined, be my guest. You pour it on right before serving.
* You could also substitute 1/2 of ground almonds for 1/2 of flour.
Finding our Veggies
Yes, I recognize that Jamie Oliver is all the rage at the moment, what with a Television program and a revolution and all, but I cannot help but continue to gush about him/his book/his mission.
As a long time Jamie Oliver Fan (that British accent and chucking around of frozen TV dinners pretty much sold me at 12) Matt got me his Food Revolution book in December for Christmas. We both have been working our way through it. I will admit we are adept cooks - but I have to say the recipes are not only straightforward, but delicious (something I've always appreciated about Oliver). Our evening meals and subsequent leftovers have since been elevated to include vegetables (!), spices (!), fancy cheese(!), etc. without breaking our pocket books.
WHAT? Haven't I spent over a year complaining that we CAN'T eat like this because it is to expensive? Turns out, I maybe wasn't looking in the right places. Jamie's food revolution book has turned me on to the veg and nutrition I was over looking, and it is stuff we can afford - snow peas, ginger root, lemons -- all of these elements feel wonderful to be eating and creating with and cannot be more grateful of the reminder and the kick and the pants to eat more than creamy pasta dishes. AND Matt is on board too (an even larger feat).
I made salmon en croute (for two!) last week - and although Matt got made fun of for having "fancy food" leftovers the next day at work - this was actually a remarkably easy and satisfying dinner. The only frustration/concern I have is that the quality of our salmon was lame. It was the evil Frozen-from-God-knows-where. Unfortunately the delicious, sustainable meats are still a bit beyond our reach (but big hooray for Basil).
Salmon en Croute pour deux (a la Jamie Oliver)
What you need:
1/2 lbs. salmon fillets, no bones no skins
1 tomato
Basil Leaves
Olive Tapanade (check out TJ Maxx - they have this kind of thing for CHEAP!)
1/4 lbs. mozzarella cheese (Buffalo! Buffalo! Try for the Buffalo!)
1 sheet puff pastry (Frozen sections)
Salt & Pepper
Olive Oil
1 egg
What You Do:
Thaw 1 sheet of puff pastry (and fish if you are using Evil frozen like me).
Prepare salmon by rubbing in a good dribble of olive oil and salt and pepper.
Find a baking sheet with a bit of a lip.
Slice tomato, wash and pick basil leaves from stalk.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
Flour counter surface and spread out sheet of puff pastry. Roll out thin until the same shape and size as desired baking sheet. Place rolled puff pastry on baking sheet.
Arrange salmon on the center of prepared puff pastry. Spread a few healthy spoonfuls of tapanade on salmon. Arrange basil leaves across the top, covering fillet and tapande. Then arrange slices of tomato down the center. Crumble or shred mozzarella and sprinkle on top. Add a dash of olive oil, salt and pepper over the whole shebang.
Fold and curl puff pastry around the salmon fillet and toppings, trapping everything inside.
Crimp the edges and brush puff pastry with slightly beaten egg to seal edges.
Place in oven, bake until puff pastry is COMPLETELY puffed (bottom too! watch it, be patient, whisper sweet nothings in its ear).
Remove, cut, enjoy. Repeat for lunch next day and daze your coworkers.
(Reason number 1,543 to engage in Oliver recipes: They almost always come out looking as good as the pictures, unlike the evil Texas pastry lady who shall remained unnamed.)
P.S. Here are some other people doing really cool things with the Food Revolution Book/Concept:
A year of Food Revolution
Fed Up With School Lunch
As a long time Jamie Oliver Fan (that British accent and chucking around of frozen TV dinners pretty much sold me at 12) Matt got me his Food Revolution book in December for Christmas. We both have been working our way through it. I will admit we are adept cooks - but I have to say the recipes are not only straightforward, but delicious (something I've always appreciated about Oliver). Our evening meals and subsequent leftovers have since been elevated to include vegetables (!), spices (!), fancy cheese(!), etc. without breaking our pocket books.
WHAT? Haven't I spent over a year complaining that we CAN'T eat like this because it is to expensive? Turns out, I maybe wasn't looking in the right places. Jamie's food revolution book has turned me on to the veg and nutrition I was over looking, and it is stuff we can afford - snow peas, ginger root, lemons -- all of these elements feel wonderful to be eating and creating with and cannot be more grateful of the reminder and the kick and the pants to eat more than creamy pasta dishes. AND Matt is on board too (an even larger feat).
I made salmon en croute (for two!) last week - and although Matt got made fun of for having "fancy food" leftovers the next day at work - this was actually a remarkably easy and satisfying dinner. The only frustration/concern I have is that the quality of our salmon was lame. It was the evil Frozen-from-God-knows-where. Unfortunately the delicious, sustainable meats are still a bit beyond our reach (but big hooray for Basil).
Salmon en Croute pour deux (a la Jamie Oliver)
What you need:
1/2 lbs. salmon fillets, no bones no skins
1 tomato
Basil Leaves
Olive Tapanade (check out TJ Maxx - they have this kind of thing for CHEAP!)
1/4 lbs. mozzarella cheese (Buffalo! Buffalo! Try for the Buffalo!)
1 sheet puff pastry (Frozen sections)
Salt & Pepper
Olive Oil
1 egg
What You Do:
Thaw 1 sheet of puff pastry (and fish if you are using Evil frozen like me).
Prepare salmon by rubbing in a good dribble of olive oil and salt and pepper.
Find a baking sheet with a bit of a lip.
Slice tomato, wash and pick basil leaves from stalk.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
Flour counter surface and spread out sheet of puff pastry. Roll out thin until the same shape and size as desired baking sheet. Place rolled puff pastry on baking sheet.
Arrange salmon on the center of prepared puff pastry. Spread a few healthy spoonfuls of tapanade on salmon. Arrange basil leaves across the top, covering fillet and tapande. Then arrange slices of tomato down the center. Crumble or shred mozzarella and sprinkle on top. Add a dash of olive oil, salt and pepper over the whole shebang.
Fold and curl puff pastry around the salmon fillet and toppings, trapping everything inside.
Crimp the edges and brush puff pastry with slightly beaten egg to seal edges.
Place in oven, bake until puff pastry is COMPLETELY puffed (bottom too! watch it, be patient, whisper sweet nothings in its ear).
Remove, cut, enjoy. Repeat for lunch next day and daze your coworkers.
(Reason number 1,543 to engage in Oliver recipes: They almost always come out looking as good as the pictures, unlike the evil Texas pastry lady who shall remained unnamed.)P.S. Here are some other people doing really cool things with the Food Revolution Book/Concept:
A year of Food Revolution
Fed Up With School Lunch
Dear Kelsey,
I'm only eating salads and pad thai. They're delicious, however. Well, I also made stollen. And dyed eggs for easter. But I'm uninspired to write. And a little uninspired to cook.
I'm also questioning my writing because of this techniques class I took. Apparently, everything I knew about punctuation and sentence combining was wrong. Well, not wrong, but not right either. I also don't know what I want to write about. I'm tired of writing about lunch with jude in the living room. Or love. Or myself.
I think I will start cooking more though. I want to eat furiously fast dishes with huge tastes. Like pad thai! (Thank you Matthew Amster-Burton.) Light dishes too. Things that go down easily, digest easily, come out easily... ha!
Also, cooking has become a very solitary thing. Everyone always said to me before: don't you get tired of cooking for yourself? I would reply, No! I love cooking for myself. Plus, there's the blog... I was very adamant that the "I'm-tired-of-cooking-for-myself-syndrome" wouldn't happen to me. But, what d'you know, I'm tired of cooking for myself. Looks like I need a new cooking buddy. Where are you hiding friend! You'll be: Preferably male. Preferably smart. Preferably Eccentric, Artistic, and Weird. Preferably hilarious. Preferably good in bed... ha!
Then, if I start cooking, maybe I'll start writing.
Thinking of you and Tarte Tatin, and love, of course (!)
- Jude
Between blog birthdays and butter.
Our blog birthday was the 12th - and at the time I was on a vacation with my boyfriend Matt in Los Angeles. It was our Spring Break and we made the (wise) decision to get out of Minnesota to visit his family in California. We climbed rocks, we sat in the sun, we ate and drank like movie stars and generally had a fabulous time.
I've been dating Matt for almost 5 years. I love him dearly and shudder to think I may someday have to decipher the the things that are mine from his; our books, t-shirts, and furniture are so well integrated at this point that in these corporeal items it is impossible to tell where his things end and mine begin.
This week - I set out to make the tarte tatin that Judy and I promised for our blog birthday. I bought 6 apples at the grocery, completely unlike us since we avoid fresh produce due to the cost (a sad but true fact), and set about deciding on a time I could commit to the project. Monday night seemed appropriate. I had no other obligations and it would leave me with the tart for breakfast the rest of the week.
For supper Monday I fixed incredibly gross packaged ravioli that we'd procured from a discount rack at the discount grocery. Heed this advice: do NOT buy discount food at a discount grocery. I did what I could to save it with Parmesan cheese and olive oil and cracked pepper - but it was a mediocre meal at best. While doing our best to enjoy dinner, I broached the topic of Matt and my future. We are job hunting, on the verge of yet another move, and I am seeking some level of stability. I want to know that where I go I will have family forever, and because of that I desire, very much a verbal commitment from Matt. This is not something he is prone too, and this area of discussion is very taxing for both of us. This evening, shitty ravioli aside, was no different.
Our conversation went on at length without ever going anywhere. I cried, as I do, and Matt tried to explain his feelings, as he does, and we remain in the same place. Deeply committed, deeply loving, and yet unable to reach other in the chasm between planning for the future, defining the future and living in the moment. Our conversation ended, as they always do, in a calm and warm place, no progress or peace over the issue, but calm and sincere. It was at this point I made a tarte tatin.
I'd prepared the pastry the day before and set about rolling it out between parchment. I took pleasure in beating the hard lump into submission, pushing and prodding it into place, forcing it to flatten into the shape and size I desired. Peeling and arranging the apples was cathartic - finding a pattern that was pleasing enough despite uniformity. Waiting patiently for the butter the caramelize the apples, adjusting the heat and turning my pan, gingerly flipping the now tender apple pieces in preparation of the finished product. I was so grateful to have this place to come to, even with my heart experiencing a bit of turbulence, here, with this tarte tatin I could find the peace that could not be external.
After arranging the pastry, baking, and flipping over the cast iron skillet that caccooned my tarte, Matt walked into the kitchen. With humor he said,
"You don't want a commitment from me, just my cast iron skillet."
Laughing, I responded, "Yes, if I ever leave I'm taking it with." Matt, rightfully noted that it seemed fair. And walked into the other room.
I started to fix slices of the tarte for each us, the apples were positively luminous and pastry crisp and flakey. Matt called through the doorway "But I get the dutch oven!"
I plunked forks down on the plates. "No deal." I shouted back.
And then we sunk into dessert - enjoying that moment - trepidatious of the future, but confident in cast iron (of all sizes), the decadence of butter, and the sheer, but simple, beauty of a tarte tatin.
I've been dating Matt for almost 5 years. I love him dearly and shudder to think I may someday have to decipher the the things that are mine from his; our books, t-shirts, and furniture are so well integrated at this point that in these corporeal items it is impossible to tell where his things end and mine begin.
This week - I set out to make the tarte tatin that Judy and I promised for our blog birthday. I bought 6 apples at the grocery, completely unlike us since we avoid fresh produce due to the cost (a sad but true fact), and set about deciding on a time I could commit to the project. Monday night seemed appropriate. I had no other obligations and it would leave me with the tart for breakfast the rest of the week.
For supper Monday I fixed incredibly gross packaged ravioli that we'd procured from a discount rack at the discount grocery. Heed this advice: do NOT buy discount food at a discount grocery. I did what I could to save it with Parmesan cheese and olive oil and cracked pepper - but it was a mediocre meal at best. While doing our best to enjoy dinner, I broached the topic of Matt and my future. We are job hunting, on the verge of yet another move, and I am seeking some level of stability. I want to know that where I go I will have family forever, and because of that I desire, very much a verbal commitment from Matt. This is not something he is prone too, and this area of discussion is very taxing for both of us. This evening, shitty ravioli aside, was no different.
Our conversation went on at length without ever going anywhere. I cried, as I do, and Matt tried to explain his feelings, as he does, and we remain in the same place. Deeply committed, deeply loving, and yet unable to reach other in the chasm between planning for the future, defining the future and living in the moment. Our conversation ended, as they always do, in a calm and warm place, no progress or peace over the issue, but calm and sincere. It was at this point I made a tarte tatin.
I'd prepared the pastry the day before and set about rolling it out between parchment. I took pleasure in beating the hard lump into submission, pushing and prodding it into place, forcing it to flatten into the shape and size I desired. Peeling and arranging the apples was cathartic - finding a pattern that was pleasing enough despite uniformity. Waiting patiently for the butter the caramelize the apples, adjusting the heat and turning my pan, gingerly flipping the now tender apple pieces in preparation of the finished product. I was so grateful to have this place to come to, even with my heart experiencing a bit of turbulence, here, with this tarte tatin I could find the peace that could not be external.
After arranging the pastry, baking, and flipping over the cast iron skillet that caccooned my tarte, Matt walked into the kitchen. With humor he said,
"You don't want a commitment from me, just my cast iron skillet."
Laughing, I responded, "Yes, if I ever leave I'm taking it with." Matt, rightfully noted that it seemed fair. And walked into the other room.
I started to fix slices of the tarte for each us, the apples were positively luminous and pastry crisp and flakey. Matt called through the doorway "But I get the dutch oven!"
I plunked forks down on the plates. "No deal." I shouted back.
And then we sunk into dessert - enjoying that moment - trepidatious of the future, but confident in cast iron (of all sizes), the decadence of butter, and the sheer, but simple, beauty of a tarte tatin.
Derivatives
Spring is teasing us in Mankato. Yesterday was an INCREDIBLE 65 degrees, today we are back down to 30. But that brief whisper of spring fills me with a lot of hope.
I've been meaning to write for, well months. I always want to write more. But I spend all day at work, and school, staring at a screen so then somehow the idea of staring at a screen for pleasure just turns me off. Instead, I cook. Last night was Jamie Oliver's salmon cakes - which were unbelievably easy and delicious. (This blogger also expounds on their wonder). Matt & I decided though that they need a new name - "salmon cake" just doesn't sound appetizing, and certainly is not fitting for this easy, satisfying supper. I feel like someday I will lie to my children and tell them they are "Mom Cakes" and only when they are old enough to discern that the pink is, in fact, fish will they be disgusted.
However, despite the recent foray into spring - we've done quite a bit of winter eating, and perhaps not unsurprisingly derivative to my friend Murph's cravings. The week she made biscuits and creamed chicken, we had fried chicken strips, biscuits and cream gravy. Her miso soup adventures paralleled our discovery of easy egg drop soup. Coincidence? I think not. Lastly inspired by her pie crust, I made a chocolate pie (that riffed off of Lisa Fain's) around the same time as Murph's valentines cake. Kindred spirits indeed.
Below you will find my winter derivatives of Murphy's fine recipes - between the two, you should be able to find at least one option to suit your taste (and likely two).
Here's to putting Winter behind us!
Mark Bittman's Fast Egg Drop Soup
What you need:
4 cups good chicken broth (of your liking, homemade, canned, or you can do like me - herboux.)
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 scallions, sliced
1-2 thin slices peeled ginger
1-2 beaten eggs
1 tbsp. sesame oil
Garnishes of choice (watercress, snow peas, etc.)
What you do:
Heat broth, soy sauce, scallions, and ginger in a saucepan. Simmer mixture for ten minutes. Turn off heat. Spoon beaten egg into hot broth with a soup spoon and steady hand (this trick comes from Cook's Illustrated). With a full spoon full and at an even pace, pour egg from spoon in circles. Repeat until all egg is distributed into broth. This should produce long whisps of egg. Let rest for a few minutes. Add sesame oil, stir gently, and serve in bowls with desired garnishes.
Quick Chicken, Biscuits and Cream Gravy
What you need:
4-6 thawed chicken tenders per person (you can generally find these in the freezer sections of the grocery in big bags, or you can cut your own by slicing a boneless, skinless breast length wise)
1 cup corn meal
olive oil
butter
2-3 biscuits per person
Peppered cream gravy (see below).
What you do:
Set a sturdy skillet over medium-high heat. While the skillet is heating, put your corn meal in a pie pan or shallow bowl. Salt and pepper both sides of the chicken tenders. Next, add oil and butter to skillet. Swirl it around to coat the skillet. When skillet and fats are hot, dredge each side of a chicken tender in corn meal, and add immediately to the skillet. Do not do more than two or three tenders at a time, as it will slow the cooking. Also, do not dredge in advance, or coating will fall off and become soggy. Cook each side of the tenders for 3-4 minutes until coating is crispy and browned, and chicken is firm to the touch. Remove from pan and cool on paper towels. Repeat process until all the chicken is breaded and cooked.
Split biscuits down center, arrange tenders on top. Serve smothered in gravy and watch as your eaters grin as they dig into this southern staple (makes a decent breakfast too!)
Peppered Cream Gravy
(for two! If preparing for more, multiple recipe accordingly.)
What you need:
1 cup milk
3 tbsp butter or bacon fat
3 tbsp flour
salt
pepper
What you do:
In a small skillet, melt fat and flour together. Just before the mixture starts to bubble, remove from heat. This can be prepared in advance and stored in the fridge until needed.
Warm milk in a sauce pan on the stove over medium heat. When milk is warm to the touch, add fat/flour mixture. Stir constantly with a whisk, making sure to get down to the very bottom of the pan. Continue mixing over medium heat until milk begins to thicken. Thicken over heat until desired consistency is achieved. Season to taste with salt and pepper (I recommend more rather than less pepper).
Makifish Reinterprets Grandma's Chocolate Pie
First, let me just say the best chocolate pie I've ever had was in Texas at the Monument Cafe. And I will search from now until my dieing day for a recipe that replicates its splendor. This one comes close (but still not quite! Damn you Monument and your pie, so distant from my current home.)
What you need:
1 cooked pie crust, Murph's kicks booty (I know - I've messed around with A LOT of pie crust).
4 tablespoons of cocoa
3/4 cups of sugar
5 tablespoons of flour
1/4 teaspoon of salt
1 1/2 cups of milk
1/2 teaspoon of vanilla
2 egg yolks, beaten slightly
1 tablespoon of butter
What you do:
On the counter, sift together sugar, flour, salt, cocoa into a sauce pan. Briefly beat eggs and milk and then add to dry with a whisk.
Put the saucepan over medium heat and cook while stirring. When it bubbles and thickens, you are good to go. This took longer than I expected and I started to stress out - but like magic, it thickened up, almost all at once. Remove from heat and beat out any lumps. Then stir in your vanilla and butter.
Fill cooled pie crust with filling. Lisa Fain puts a meringue on hers - I didn't bother. I let everything cool slightly on the counter, and then popped it in the freezer. After a few hours of chilling, slice up and serve.
I've been meaning to write for, well months. I always want to write more. But I spend all day at work, and school, staring at a screen so then somehow the idea of staring at a screen for pleasure just turns me off. Instead, I cook. Last night was Jamie Oliver's salmon cakes - which were unbelievably easy and delicious. (This blogger also expounds on their wonder). Matt & I decided though that they need a new name - "salmon cake" just doesn't sound appetizing, and certainly is not fitting for this easy, satisfying supper. I feel like someday I will lie to my children and tell them they are "Mom Cakes" and only when they are old enough to discern that the pink is, in fact, fish will they be disgusted.
However, despite the recent foray into spring - we've done quite a bit of winter eating, and perhaps not unsurprisingly derivative to my friend Murph's cravings. The week she made biscuits and creamed chicken, we had fried chicken strips, biscuits and cream gravy. Her miso soup adventures paralleled our discovery of easy egg drop soup. Coincidence? I think not. Lastly inspired by her pie crust, I made a chocolate pie (that riffed off of Lisa Fain's) around the same time as Murph's valentines cake. Kindred spirits indeed.
Below you will find my winter derivatives of Murphy's fine recipes - between the two, you should be able to find at least one option to suit your taste (and likely two).
Here's to putting Winter behind us!
Mark Bittman's Fast Egg Drop Soup
What you need:
4 cups good chicken broth (of your liking, homemade, canned, or you can do like me - herboux.)
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 scallions, sliced
1-2 thin slices peeled ginger
1-2 beaten eggs
1 tbsp. sesame oil
Garnishes of choice (watercress, snow peas, etc.)
What you do:
Heat broth, soy sauce, scallions, and ginger in a saucepan. Simmer mixture for ten minutes. Turn off heat. Spoon beaten egg into hot broth with a soup spoon and steady hand (this trick comes from Cook's Illustrated). With a full spoon full and at an even pace, pour egg from spoon in circles. Repeat until all egg is distributed into broth. This should produce long whisps of egg. Let rest for a few minutes. Add sesame oil, stir gently, and serve in bowls with desired garnishes.
Quick Chicken, Biscuits and Cream Gravy
What you need:
4-6 thawed chicken tenders per person (you can generally find these in the freezer sections of the grocery in big bags, or you can cut your own by slicing a boneless, skinless breast length wise)
1 cup corn meal
olive oil
butter
2-3 biscuits per person
Peppered cream gravy (see below).
What you do:
Set a sturdy skillet over medium-high heat. While the skillet is heating, put your corn meal in a pie pan or shallow bowl. Salt and pepper both sides of the chicken tenders. Next, add oil and butter to skillet. Swirl it around to coat the skillet. When skillet and fats are hot, dredge each side of a chicken tender in corn meal, and add immediately to the skillet. Do not do more than two or three tenders at a time, as it will slow the cooking. Also, do not dredge in advance, or coating will fall off and become soggy. Cook each side of the tenders for 3-4 minutes until coating is crispy and browned, and chicken is firm to the touch. Remove from pan and cool on paper towels. Repeat process until all the chicken is breaded and cooked.
Split biscuits down center, arrange tenders on top. Serve smothered in gravy and watch as your eaters grin as they dig into this southern staple (makes a decent breakfast too!)
Peppered Cream Gravy
(for two! If preparing for more, multiple recipe accordingly.)
What you need:
1 cup milk
3 tbsp butter or bacon fat
3 tbsp flour
salt
pepper
What you do:
In a small skillet, melt fat and flour together. Just before the mixture starts to bubble, remove from heat. This can be prepared in advance and stored in the fridge until needed.
Warm milk in a sauce pan on the stove over medium heat. When milk is warm to the touch, add fat/flour mixture. Stir constantly with a whisk, making sure to get down to the very bottom of the pan. Continue mixing over medium heat until milk begins to thicken. Thicken over heat until desired consistency is achieved. Season to taste with salt and pepper (I recommend more rather than less pepper).
Makifish Reinterprets Grandma's Chocolate Pie
First, let me just say the best chocolate pie I've ever had was in Texas at the Monument Cafe. And I will search from now until my dieing day for a recipe that replicates its splendor. This one comes close (but still not quite! Damn you Monument and your pie, so distant from my current home.)
What you need:
1 cooked pie crust, Murph's kicks booty (I know - I've messed around with A LOT of pie crust).
4 tablespoons of cocoa
3/4 cups of sugar
5 tablespoons of flour
1/4 teaspoon of salt
1 1/2 cups of milk
1/2 teaspoon of vanilla
2 egg yolks, beaten slightly
1 tablespoon of butter
What you do:
On the counter, sift together sugar, flour, salt, cocoa into a sauce pan. Briefly beat eggs and milk and then add to dry with a whisk.
Put the saucepan over medium heat and cook while stirring. When it bubbles and thickens, you are good to go. This took longer than I expected and I started to stress out - but like magic, it thickened up, almost all at once. Remove from heat and beat out any lumps. Then stir in your vanilla and butter.
Fill cooled pie crust with filling. Lisa Fain puts a meringue on hers - I didn't bother. I let everything cool slightly on the counter, and then popped it in the freezer. After a few hours of chilling, slice up and serve.
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