Adventures with Artisan Bread

Nope, it's not pretty...

For Christmas last year my parents got me this awesome book called Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day. (Link to book on Amazon.com) It's basic theory is that you don't have to spend hours kneading dough, building bread ovens, and worrying about yeast rising to make bread.  Instead, the book walks you through a process of making a big batch of dough--no kneading required--which gets an initial rise on a countertop and then sits in your fridge for 2 weeks awaiting many possibilities.  You then can just pull out portions of this master dough to make bread as needed for the next few weeks.  It's versatile, applicable to anything from pizza dough to naan to cinnamon rolls, and much more.  And it's incredibly easy, especially for those who might be intimidated by working with yeast or dough.

What I really love about this book, much like the "No Knead Bread" recipe that enamored the blogosphere a year or so back or the original intent of the BreadMaker, is that it attempts to demystify the bread-making process for regular people like moi.  It brings the bread to the people, and for that I love it.  I've cooked my way through a good portion of the recipes, although I have a long way to go--hence the new "breadmaking" label on this post.  I'm going to expand my bread horizons beyond the 5 or so standbys that I can't quite move past without some encouragement.

Almost ready for the oven

Which is not to say that it's perfect.  I don't generally like the dough for pizza dough--it's wet and hard to work with--hence the rolling pin in the photo above.  This dough will tear if you try to hand-stretch it, probably due to low gluten from the lack-of-kneading.  Plus, the older it is the more "sour" the flavor is (like sourdough bread, a flavor I love--just not in pizza crust).  Plus, a really old batch of dough loses a lot of rise--you'll be fine making a flatbread from a 2-week-old batch, but a baguette probably is going to be on the flat and dense side.

That said, it's a lot easier than my favorite pizza doughs, which all require at least an hour rise (and needs an overnight cold rise...but it's worth it).  Since I had a batch of dough in the fridge that I started on Monday (specifically to make na'an with when I get to my Spicy Lentil Soup recipe--the naan will change you life.  For reals), I decided to forgo the better doughs and just grab a hunk from the bowl in the fridge.  I did have the better part of a log of fresh mozzerella that was languishing uneaten, along with some sad, old ears of corn, so it was thrifty--those would have gone to waste without pizza!  Or something like that.

This is just a simple, easy non-recipe--BBQ Veggie Pizza. Instead of just chicken and red onions, I wanted to get a little more creative.  Home-grown (father-in-law) corn, black beans, and poblano peppers seemed about right--so much so that I left off the chicken entirely. Stretch out the dough, top with BBQ sauce (one that doesn't have high-fructose corn syrup as the first ingredient, like many do, if possible), then cheese, then veg, then a bit more cheese.  Bake it on a pizza stone at about 450, let it cool a bit and then devour.  Like we did, mostly standing up in the kitchen and trying not to get sauce on our faces.

Chicken Pomodoro--The Weeknight Cooking Series

Chicken Pomodoro: Come to daddy.

I thrive on routine, much like a child or a dog learns that certain times an certain days mean a certain predetermined sequence of events. We're all like this, a little bit--little habits determining our own unique "ways" of life long before we get set in them.  Consequently, I live portions of my life according to a number of rituals that have developed over the years.  No, I'm not talking about OCD or any number of bizarre "it puts the lotion on its skin" rituals.  Just...little things.  Like the order in which I do things in the shower (shampoo; condition; knot hair with conditioner; wash; shave; wash face; rinse hair; pumice; squeeze hair)--if I don't wash my hair on a certain day, sometimes I find myself standing in the shower at a loss for what I'm supposed to do next.

Grocery shopping has its own ritual.  First, I pull out my coupons and my earmarked recipes.  I select the recipes I want to make that week and the coupons for the things we need.  Then I make a list on the front of an envelope, tuck the coupons inside, and write the week's menu of meals on the back.  And, in another of many tricks I learned from my mama, I make my grocery list in a certain order--the order of the supermarket I'm going to.  Produce first, bread/cereals next, baking/canned goods, meat, dairy, then frozen.  This helps me to not forget as much as my scatterbrained self usually would forget.  And also makes it easier to give direction to A, who sweetly volunteers to help me grocery shop, then must have specific assignments handed out throughout the grocery excursion.

Setting the stage

Little did I know that this week's recipe selection was inadvertently all "30-minute" or "weekday cooking" type recipes--things designed to be cooked after work, before the day's energy is drained completely and I collapse on the couch, exhausted.  I am not usually drawn to these sorts of recipes, especially a certain Ms. Ray's, because in order to be cooked quickly they often leave out some steps that help build flavor or otherwise balance/round out the final dish. And, truth be told, I really don't mind spending time at the stove or chopping vegetables.  I find these little rituals--preparing meals, creating food and recipes--to be enriching and rewarding.

That said...I'm also impatient.  And I sometimes am so hungry I just can't be bothered to slowly build a sauce, braise meat, roast veggies, and, most importantly...wait.  This Chicken Pomodoro recipe from Cook's Country (Feb/Mar. 2010) has been torn out and awaiting its chance to shine for a while. And, since I had a half-pint of heavy cream in my fridge (hey, It's a birthday weekend for Brother-in-law, and I need to make a ganache!), it was the right time.

The recipe is really straightforward: you sear chicken breasts until browned, then remove to a plate and saute onions and garlic in the same pot until softened. Stir in some diced tomatoes, cream and spices, then return the chicken to the pot and cook until chicken is cooked through and sauce is slightly reduced.  Serve the chicken and sauce over rice, polenta, or pasta, and dinner is DONE.

As you can see, my cutlet-making skills leave a lot to be desired.

Of course (surprise, surprise) I made a few tweaks.  We're trying to cut back on the amount of meat we eat, so instead of 4 boneless, skinless breasts I used two, halved through the equator to make 4 cutlets.  I didn't have enough fresh basil left from last week's Italian-orama, so I used some sage and fennel along with dried basil.  It at first didn't look like enough sauce for 1/2 lb of pasta, so I rinsed the tomato can with maybe 1/4 cup water and added that in with the cream.  My thinner chicken pieces cooked much quicker than the recipe stated, so instead of letting the sauce reduce for 10 minutes, I dumped the almost al dente pasta into the pot (after removing the cooked chicken) and let the pasta finish cooking in the sauce, absorbing some extra moisture.  And, since "why not," I topped the finished plates with parmesan cheese.

All in all, I say winner winner.  Subscribers can click this link to see the recipe online; my slightly amended version is after the jump.

Trader Joe's Adventure

I think I am getting sick.  Why this prompted an urgent trip to Trader Joe's, I can't say really, but it did, and my quest was simple--SOUP.

TJ's is a great store, especially if you like wine.  I suppose they are sorta on the Whole Foods bandwagon of promoting organic, local, etc., but they aren't nearly as hippy-dippy.  Instead, they have a lot of interesting pre-made foods (frozen and prepared) as well as a random assortment of sorta gourmet items.  Like, you can't get peanuts there, but you can find Marcona Almonds and 40 other varieties of fancy nuts.  Fancy nuts.  Hee hee.

Anyway, people love and hate the store.  I love it, probably because it's right by my office and is always tempting me with new, worldly things to try (and CHEESE.  they have lots of cheese).  Anyway, TJ's has these boxed soups that always have caught my eye, because they're in a box, but also because they're kinda interesting flavors and seem a step up from Campbell's.  Like Carrot & Ginger, Butternut Squash, Roasted Tomato & Red Pepper. The threat of cold made me less adventurous--I really wanted that carrot soup--and directed me toward the Creamy Tomato. But, since I love TJ's, I couldn't stop there, and wandered the store for another 15 minutes talking myself out of buying many things...and loosing the debate a handful of other times.

My entire lunch, and a few other snacks that are now stashed in my desk drawer, represent my TJ extravaganza:

Multigrain Entertainment Crackers.  My favorite cracker, currently.  They're big and seedy, slightly sweet, and addictingly crunchy.  I've been eating a lot of them with light mini Baby-Bel cheese and Dijon mustard.  Three are a perfect snack.

Light Mini Baby-Bel Cheese.  Not a TJ brand, but a nice little snack to keep in the office fridge.  Each one only has 35 calories (I think) and can be "thirded" to fit on top of three Entertainment crackers.

Creamy Tomato Soup.  The TJ brand.  Although it says creamy, the soup itself isn't loaded with fat--just 1.5 grams in a 1-cup serving, fairly low caloric content, and low sodium (for canned soup, anyway).  Since I can't consider 1 cup a sufficient serving of soup, I ate about 1.5 cups (restraint) so this box should get me until Thursday's lunch. Overall, it's pretty good--maybe a little dull in flavor (I kept wishing for something acidic to squeeze into it) but, still, altogether satisfying with the aforementioned accouterments.

Miso Soup and a Ginger Chicken Bowl are awaiting their turn to GET IN MAH BELLEH.  Soon, my chickadees, very soon.

New recipe time for dinner tonight!  Hope to have good things to report tomorrow.

Pumpkin, Sage, and Browned Butter Quick Bread

Look at me.  I taste like fall feels

Let's get this out of the way: I am not a baker.  Baking requires an exactness, a preciseness that I just don't have the skill (or the patience) for.   I'm more of a broad-strokes kind of cook, which is why cooking generally suits me much more than baking. Especially when baking evolves into pasty creation--working with delicate doughs, shaping intricate designs, painstaking attention to detail...these are not my strong suits.  Baking is all about exactness.  Whereas in a recipe for dinner you can usually sub in/out myriad ingredients, adjust cooking times, etc., substitution in baking requires precise calculations--how will the leavening agent work with a different acid?  What if I go over a few grams in flour--how to adjust the sugar content?  Etc., etc.  Although I'd love the knowledge (and detail-oriented mind) to be a good baker, it just isn't so--or isn't so yet. With a new food scale, winter coming on, and my devoted search for the most perfect pizza dough, I am going to try to work on this season...)

But...I love baked goods. Ay, there's the rub.  Simple things--cookies, brownies, quick breads--usually don't give me too much trouble.  Until I "forget" about that whole "baking is an exact science" mantra and think I can just experiment willy-nilly with precise baking recipes. Thus, my somewhat sabotaged pumpkin-sage-browned butter quick bread (Martha Stewart Living, Nov. 2009) .

Getting ready...

The original recipe made eight 2"x4" mini loaves, so I figured that I would have the recipe and make about one regular  loaf.  So far, so good.  But, I wasn't thinking, and I halved everything in the recipe except the pumpkin (and the spices, but that was deliberate.  I like heavily spiced pumpkin flavors, and wanted the clove, cinnamon and nutmeg--the flavors of fall baking--to really burst through).  And, admittedly, I thirded the amount of butter from 1.5 sticks to just 1/2. I thought the extra pumpkin would contribute the lost moisture of the two extra Tbsp of butter, but I went overboard on it.  Thus, my bread was a little flat, a lot dense, but, thankfully, still delicious.

Just out of the oven.

And, I think instead of puttering around with halving the recipe I should have just made the whole thing.  I'm not wise enough to know whether my loaf is so squat because of the extra moisture preventing the leavening agent (baking powder) from working, or if it plain and simple wasn't enough batter for a full loaf.

Let's get back to the main point though--this bread is good.  Forgiving it's denseness, it is nice and moist, which I thank the pumpkin for.  Dry quick breads are common, and not commonly good, so I'll take the err on this side of the dry line any day of the week.  The browned butter is nicely nutty, and the sage imparts this wonderful herbaceous aroma into the back of your mouth while the pumpkin and spices play up front, and help to balance the sweetness enough that you could just as easily have this on the dinner table as well as the brunch table (whatever that means...).

I've linked to the recipe on MarthaStewart.com above, but it's pasted after the jump with my reworked amendments below.

Stuffed Peppers, Redux

Italian Stuffed Peppers with caesar salad

I had this conversation with my dad today.  Him: "How did the stuffed peppers turn out?" Me: "Well, they just tasted....healthy."


Normally this is not a bad thing.  Generally, I like things that taste lighter and allow each individual ingredient to say a few lines in the meal play.  Don't get me wrong--I love a deep-fried, cheese-filled, ranch or mayo-dipped thing as much or more than the next girl.  But these are more like every-once-in-a-while treats.  If I eat like that day-in, day-out, I start to feel like that kind of food--greasy, heavy, fatty, tired.  When I started trying to eat healthier a few years back, I remembered that when you eat well, you honestly do feel better.  If I choose a salad, lean protein and fruit over a cheeseburger takeout, I spend my afternoon with energy and balance, instead of craving a nap.  It's bizarre--one of the things that helps to reinforce in my mind that being healthy isn't always a downer--it actually feels good, too.  Likewise, when I get into one of my many, many bad moods, spending 45 minutes or so on the treadmill or in a weight/circuit class really does wonders to bring me out of it--something A thanks his lucky stars for.  

Mise-en-place, or stuff already chopped up already.

(Side note: apparently I'm trying to wear out the hyphen key on my keyboard today, in a move blatantly unappreciative of the many other punctuation options it affords me...like the ellipsis!)


So why am I complaining about these Italian Stuffed Peppers?  Were they bad? No, they were actually kind of nice.  Light but still filling, bursting with veggies and brown rice, grounded with a bit of leftover Italian sausage, Parmesan cheese and Sockarooni pasta sauce.  I don't know, I guess I just expected more...flavor.  But then I got to thinking about it, and I started to see instantly where I went wrong.  Instead of the traditional tomato sauce binder, I got all fancy and used fresh tomatoes and chicken stock (homemade), so that I could cook the brown rice right in the mixture.  While convenient, this resulted in a thinner, waterier binder, instead of the super-concentrated tomato flavor from commercial canned sauce.  

A favorite pot--a Le Creuset handed down from my dad, who I think got it from his mom...

I also left out most of the meat, replacing 1 lb ground beef with 1/4 (or less) lb Italian sausage, and using summer squash to fill in the missing meat. Now, you know that summer squash/zucchini isn't the most flavorsome vegetable out there. While I appreciated having the extra veggie flavor note, it would have been better alongside, instead of instead of. I did use a little provelone cheese, hoping that its smoky flavor would amplify the rice stuffing.  It didn't, really.  I barely noticed it or the chunk of parmeggiano-reggiano rind that I boiled in the sauce/broth/stuffing while the rice was cooking.  

It wants to be good.  It really does.

Overall, despite my un-enthusiasm for the finished product, I still am not giving up hope on this recipe.  I think I made some bone-head decisions that sacrificed flavor for no good reason, so I'm going to just modify the recipe (after the jump) so that I think it would come out much better next time.  And, really, maybe next time I overindulge in a deep-fried, cheese-filled, mayonaise-dipped feast, this recipe's healthful worth will be viewed in an entirely new light, or at least a way to loosen up the ol' arteries for a day or two.  

Why all the adjectives, Rock Cornish Game Hen?

Perhaps my plating skills need a little work so that his leg isn't hanging off it.  But isn't he cute?

Really, isn't a Rock Cornish Game Hen just a small chicken?  Let's see what Wikipedia has to say about it:  "Despite the name, it is not a game bird, but actually a typical chicken that is slaughtered at a young age and therefore is smaller in size. Though the bird is called a "hen," it can be either male or female."  OK, so it's just marketing then.  A cornish game hen is really just a chicken that's only 5-6 weeks old and under 2 pounds.  That actually makes me sort of sad.  But, then again, thinking about typically chickens' miserable lives on factory farms, maybe a shorter time until the butcher comes isn't entirely a bad thing...


Well, I'm not going to get into that debate right now.  I know that my food morals really want me to buy organic in certain things--especially eggs (already do), milk (first glass bottle bought yesterday), and meats (getting there...).  But my pocketbook also has a say in what I buy.  And I do buy factory-farmed meats.  But I also try to go vegetarian a minimum of one night a week to try to offset that; I buy a healthy percentage of local food, organic food, healthy food.  It's all about a balance, and each person can find that balance for his or herself. 


Today I'm just going to remember how delicious that little hen was, and share that lovely memory with you.  


I must be craving a trip to Italy (honeymoon???), because I've been cooking all things Italian this week...a pizza feast Sunday, yesterday's Tuscan Roasted Cornish Hen with Mediterranean Orzo (yes, I've put a recipe up), and tomorrow's Italian Stuffed Peppers.  Let's focus on today, shall we?

After splitting the hen into two halves and removing the backbone--a task made easy with a new Wusthof cleaver, a wedding gift from Mr. Yeshua--they were marinated overnight in a Tuscan marinade (from a bottle from a Michigan oil/vinegar store).  My original intent was either to grill them or to "brick" them, but an impending thunderstorm combined with an absence of a brick (where did that damn dog put it?  yes, I'm serious.  We have a crochet-covered brick doorstop that our dog just loves to pick up and cuddle with) forced me to consider other options.  And, lazy after an ass-kicking at the gym, I just pulled out a roasting pan, my go-to cooking method.  Some CSA medley potatoes, tossed in said dressing, olive oil and grainy mustard, joined them on the sheet and into a 425-degree oven they went for 35 minutes (potatoes stirred halfway through).  You can really roast anything--anything, just toss it with a little oil and S&P.  The key is a high temperature--at least 400 degrees. You want the outside to get nice and brown; the natural sugars to caramelize; the magic to happen.  Try roasted cauliflower, especially if you think you don't like this underappreciated little blossom.  It turns nutty, intense, hearty after 15-20 minutes in a nice hot oven--totally unlike its usual steamed presentation.  


While that was going, I mixed up a little side dish with things I had on hand--cut up cucumbers that were starting to dry out, a big-ass tomato that was getting over-ripe, some fresh mozzerella with no home of its own.  An easy garlic-dijon vinaigrette and some orzo, and a simple side dish was born.  I threw in some butter beans, because for an inexplicable reason I had two cans in my cupboard--and throwing beans into something is an easy way to amp up the protein content.  I kept the amount of pasta down to limit the carbs (or because that was all that was left in the box) but you could probably add some more.  Whatever--I don't really do a good job of keeping track of my nutrition, like how many vitamins I eat and how many carbs I should avoid.  


On that note, I did start a food journal today to help in that regard.  Just to help me be more aware of every thing that gets put in my mouth.  I exercise a sufficient amount, but eating is my problem with why my pants are loose vs. tight (usually tight).  I just eat too much, plain and simple.  So let's see if this helps, shall we?


Sometimes I wonder why I give you recipes for things like this.  The recipe is, mix pasta with veggies and other stuff, and mix a vinaigrette in to taste.  I guess I just like to see my recipe list growing, or I'm very self-indulgent.  Or I get really bored at work.  Either way, I hope you enjoy...

Moonshine reaffirms its "Meh" status

Anybody who lives in Chicago's Wicker Park neighborhood undoubtedly knows where Moonshine is, due in large part to its expansive sidewalk patio that turns into a mecca for people-watching, beer drinking, and general tomfoolery every weekend day.  It's insanely popular, with the whole patio filled up more often than not, although for the life of me I could never understand why.  Eating there several times when I lived in the 'hood affirmed their status as a loud, obnoxious sports bar with food that in no way justifies the price nor the experience.  Yes, serving drinks is mason jars is just sooo precious, Moonshine.  True, your huge sidewalk patio is rare and admittedly a great spot to check out the WP action.  And, clearly, you've passed the WP yuppies' muster, judging by how many of them fill your seats every weekend. But there are so many better places to while away a Sunday afternoon.

Then I read a few months ago that Moonshine had hired a new Chef and had started a brewery, now offering a selection of 10 or so house-made craft beers and a revamped and expanded menu.  Perhaps it was time to give this stalwart of the Wicker Park yuppie bar scene another chance at being decent.

We went for brunch and, among the three of us, had green eggs & ham, corned beef-hash (made with house-made corned beef brisket), and some biscuits and gravy, accompanied by a selection of their beers.  First, the drinks.  While this hops-head liked the IPA well enough, it had an overtly plant-like aroma that bothered another at the table--not from drinking it, mind you, just from smelling that greenery constantly.   The "extra" ordinary ale was liked, although perhaps not deserving of the first adjective in its name, and the Chicago-style pale ale was probably the favorite of the group--slightly sweet and fruity backed up by hoppy bitterness.  Nothing wowed us here, but on special at $6 for a tallboy, worth the price.

Then came the food.  The menu is different than I recall, though not drastically different style-wise from any other American-food type place: lots of burgers, sandwiches, appetizers and flatbread pizzas.  There seems to be a bit of a Mexican/Southwestern trend to the place, especially on the Brunch menu, which includes huevos rancheros and a breakfast burrito. The "green eggs" were simply eggs scrambled with New Mexico green chiles and accompanied by ham (or the meat of your choice--we got sausage), bread and potatoes.  Nothing special here, although no complaints either. The house-made corned beef was good, but made into hash was overly salty--to the point where it became difficult to eat.  Likewise, the gravy gracing the biscuits got raves, but the biscuit itself was tough, dense and heavy--not light and flaky like a good biscuit should be.

Overall, it is better.  I sincerely appreciate that they're trying to improve and making a lot of their offerings in-house rather than sourcing them to food service places or macrobreweries.  They just still have a lot of work to do, seeming as they do right now to be pretty inconsistent.  Like, why spend all the time brining and corning your own brisket, when whomever hashes it up hasn't mastered the salt shaker yet?  Why scratch make sausage gravy when your biscuits would sink in pudding? (Admittedly, biscuit-making is probably much more difficult to master than making a simple white gravy.)

Yes, it's better than before. And, having spied lots of gorgeous, glistening, pretzel-roll held burgers being brought out of the kitchen, perhaps we should give them another chance.  But when you have a table-full of customers wishing they'd gone somewhere else for a similar meal, you aren't likely to get another chance out of them.

We all live in a turkey submarine

As I verified today, a small slice makes a perfect breakfast.

My mom deserves all the credit for this post.  When we go to a tailgate or picnic or cottage on Lake Michigan, she'll often make one of these great big submarine sandwiches.  Made on a large loaf of French or Italian bread, they sit in the fridge overnight, wrapped tightly in plastic, so that all of the flavors can blend together and the sammich can "become one."  Instead of the hassle of making a bunch of individual sandwiches, you just slice this one up and serve.  It's easy and so good.  Somehow, the overnight sit softens up the bread, melds the flavors, and makes this bad bay so much more delicious than it would be assembled & eaten straightaway.  And it lasts for several days, so you can just slice off portions and eat as the hunger grabs you (if you're me, that translates to often).  I love having things prepared and ready-to-eat.  That's why I like to spend Sunday afternoons cooking, making big batches of salads, soups, etc for lunches the next week; cutting up veggies to keep in the fridge as snacks; puttering around and keeping myself busy with food...

That said, you do have to avoid a few potential pitfalls.  First, you gotta keep the veggies to a minimum (this should make you happy, Aunt L!!!) because they have a tendency to make the bread soggy.  And you need to be mindful to use a fairly sturdy loaf, otherwise you're going to have an unappetizingly gummy loaf on your hands the next day.  Also, I try not to stuff them too much, because you don't want "backsliding" to be an issue (a term coined by Serious Eats/A Hamburger Today to describe the unpleasant phenomenon of having sandwich contents shoot out the back end when you bite into the front).

Check out the innards.  I think they call this the "money shot."

Otherwise, you can experiment and layer it on to your heart's content.  I've used supermarket and bakery bread to equal success (supermarket bread's less crusty crust might even be preferable--see "backsliding" above), and any variety of meats and cheeses.  For the add-ons, try onions (give them a 5-minute bath in ice water or red wine vinegar to mild them down, if you're not a red onion fan), olives, giardinara, sliced peppers, cucumbers--just not anything watery like tomatoes or that will get unpleasantly wilted like lettuce.

A few weeks back I made up a classic American version, and yesterday I used the remainder of my D'Amato's loaf to make a spicy turkey sub, complete with my favorite sauce of all time.  Recipes for all three after the jump...

Pisgetti

All the ingredients for an Italian feast

Nothing inspiring or ground-breaking to report today, internet friends.  But who doesn't love spaghetti, or "pisgetti," as I called it throughout my childhood.  And this version here is especially uninspired, seeing as I didn't even make my own sauce.  The shame!  Especially since I have a few recipes, and one great one my dad sent me, for marinara sauce that knock anything out of a jar right out of the ballpark.  Really, even the most basic of sauces does.  All you really need to do to make a quick pasta sauce is saute onions and garlic in some olive oil, then add a 28oz can of tomatoes (crushed or whole--just smash the whole ones a bit) and add your spices--oregano, basil, fennel seed, balsamic, and a bit of sugar are usually what I turn to. Simmer a bit and viola!

But, after getting home from the gym at 6:30, I didn't feel much like doing anything other than boil water, so I turned to a jarred sauce I keep on hand for "emergencies" (Newman's Own "sockarooni") and fished a 1/2 lb bulk italian sausage out of the freezer.  A large pot of salted water on the stove to boil, and a big baguette from D'Amatos bakery on the butcher block, and dinner was within 15 minutes....

You want to eat this.  So much more than the sum of its parts.

Of course, I couldn't leave well enough alone.

No, I remembered that I needed to use up some of my FIL's garden tomatoes, and that I had bought fresh basil the other day, so I created the "need" to have bruschetta in addition to the pasta feast.  The most simple of appetizers, near-universally appealling and endlessly variable, bruschetta is one of my favorite things to make.  Just chop up some tomatoes and basil, stir together with olive oil and a bit of balsamic vinegar, season with S&P and spoon over toasted bread. Take it a step further by rubbing a cut garlic clove over the bread slices after you toast them--you'll get the big boldness of fresh garlic flavor without the sharpness of raw garlic chunks and lingering breath effects.  It's easy to throw together and gives A something to snack on while I'm cooking away (better than his habit of eating the ingredients I have chopped up waiting to join the main dish).

Is there anything that a sprinkling of Parmesan can't make better?

The spaghetti itself is a simple affair, with a "trick" I learned from my own A, of all places.  I grew up eating spaghetti by putting a pile of noodles on my plate, and then topping it with sauce. A, on the other hand, taught me to "fry" it all together.  After you drain the noodles, return the big pot to the heat and add a few tablespoons of olive oil or butter.  When it melts/heats, add the noodles back in with the sauce and let it all cook together.  Italians are probably shaking their collective heads right now, wondering where this midwestern girl got the idea that she knew a trick by doing what they've been doing all along--finishing cooking the pasta in the sauce.  Well, let me tell you, innovative or not, this is the way to go.  The noodles soak up a lot of the sauce's moisture and the extra butter/oil gives it a richness to boot...of course, when did a little extra fat ever make something taste worse! ;-)

Although you really don't need it, I'll put the recipe for bruschetta after the jump.

Chinese Chickey

Isn't that All Clad pan pretty?  Although I learned why the
original recipe called for nonstick....cornstarch is sticky! Good
thing I like to deglaze....

I love Chinese food--everything from the sweet, fried, greasy, carb- and MSG-loaded fare at such delicate eateries as Panda Express to the authentic, strange, funky, fermented, pickled, spicy-as-all-hell meal (only one so far) at Lao Sze Cheung in Chicago's Chinatown, to the awkward Dim Sum feast in NYC Chinatown where the little Chinese ladies at the table with us scoffed at our audacity to order water--apparently, you only drink tea with dim sum, thank them very much.  Or maybe it was the 10,000 plates spread in front of us and we sought to try every dish, while they frugally shared three or four plates among the three of them.  I guess American excess prevails even in Chinatown, or at least when the young Americans invade it.

The incredibly diverse food culture includes a little bit of everything, but a lot of things that i love--a prevalence of DUMPLINGS in all shapes, sizes, fillings and preparations; a whole style of eating (dim sum) devoted to appetizers and tasting as many things as possible; and a cheap, trashy side that reminds me that I'm not the only one with a dark side.

Just pretend it's in focus.

Regardless of how much I love Chinese food, both real and fake, ordering Chinese is not something my wallet nor waistline can afford to do everyday...which I why I loved coming across this Cooking Light recipe for Cashew Chicken (I would link to it, but it appears that 2010 recipes are not yet posted online). I had a bunch of the ingredients, but not all, but really what I took away from the recipe was a nice little technique for making a sauce without oil--cornstarch and broth!

First you toss the raw meat with some soy sauce, wine and cornstarch, then mix cornstarch and broth together with more seasonings to form the sauce base.  When you saute the mixture in a pan, the cornstarch reacts to the heat and thickens up almost instantly, turning chicken broth into a thick, gravy-like consistency.   Gross sounding, but when the broth is seasoned with soy sauce, garlic, ginger, and wine, it turns into something much more delicious.  I liked the recipe so far.  Only, I didn't have cashews, so I left them out. An, I wasn't going to buy sherry when I had white wine on hand.  And, really, I wanted more veggies in there than just a measly half cup of red pepper (plus, I had a getting-very-old-very-quickly half-head of cabbage in the bottom fridge drawer, so you know where my mind was with this one).

mmmmm....dumplings.....

I didn't have a great deal of the things the recipe called for and wanted to add in a great deal, and I went ahead and changed up the sauce ingredients, so, once again, I'm calling this my own, since with all the changes it really is.  But isn't that the beauty of cooking? Not being confined to a rigid set of rules; experimenting with ingredients and flavors; using what you have on hand. Like a almost-freezer-burned bag of Trader Joe's potstickers, which I pan-fried up on the side with a quick dipping sauce (equal parts soy and rice wine vinegar; stir in minced garlic and ginger to taste).

Just as delicious as takeout with a fraction of the fat, no MSG, brown rice, and money still in my pocket.  It's a win all around...and it feels trashy and bad for me, which makes the healthiness even better.   Recipe after the jump.

Inspirations from the strangest of sources...

Dinner the other night was one of necessity: the need to use things up, including two defrosted tilapia filets; several ripe homegrown tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers; three separate batches of CSA potatoes (in three colors too!) and a bag of carrots I discovered buried at the bottom of the fridge.  I knew I wasn't going to be following any set recipe that required a special trip to the store, I set out to make use of what was on hand.

Originally, I wanted to pan-sear and oven-finish the fish filets, and top them with a spicy peach and black bean salsa...but I came home to find a peach-free fruit bowl.  But a big batch of stale bread (I save and freeze it for stuffing, bread crumbs, bread puddings, etc) setting out to dry led me to the idea to coat & bake it instead.  Inspired by a tin of Old Bay Seasoning I bought for last week's Shrimp Boil (did I write about that?), I decided to go forth on a spicy adventure. Mmmm, Old Bay, how I love you....

First, I preheated the oven to 425 degrees.  I cut up about a pound of potatoes and three large carrots into big chunks, then tossed them with chipotle oil, old bay seasoning, salt and pepper on a baking sheet and threw them into the oven. Aren't they pretty?  While honestly I don't prefer the purple and red potatoes taste and texture (I'm a redskin and yukon gold girl) they are gorgeous to look at.  These went into the oven for 20 minutes, during which I started on the rest of the food.

I seeded and sliced a cucumber, jalapeno and tomato, and threw them all into a bowl with a tablespoon or two each of cider vinegar, pomegrante balsamic vinegar, water and salt/pepper and stirred it around to make a quick tangy salad. Then, on to the fish!.  Dredged in flour, dipped in a beaten egg, and submerged in breadcrumbs.  These crumbs were ground up from the dried bread slices, but panko would be great, and regular breadcrumbs would be fine too.  I mixed Old Bay, salt, pepper & garlic into the crumbs, too, just to spice up the fish a bit.  After the potatoes had cooked about 20 minutes and been stirred/flipped, the breaded fish went onto another baking sheet and joined them in the oven for another 20 minutes.

So breaded fish just must be dipped in something, right?  So quick tartar sauce it was today, spiced up with Old Bay (surprise!) and Frank's Red Hot.  So easy, by the way.  Mix up a few spoonfuls of low-fat mayo with dijon mustard, minced dill pickles, a tsp or so of white vinegar, freshly ground pepper, and whatever other spices you have (like those aforementioned ones).  Easy, quick, and good. 

The resulting dinner was delicious, although I couldn't help thinking how good the fish would have been on a toasted bun, with lettuce & onion & that spicy tartar sauce...maybe next time! 

This week's haul

Oops, forgot to list out my CSA share this week.  I know, I know, skies are falling, stars colliding, explosions near and far over the enormity of this tragedy. 

1 giant head green curly-leaf lettuce
1 small head red leaf lettuce
2 small green peppers
5 heirloom tomatoes
2 cucumbers
1 lb yellow potatoes
beets, which I deferred on, since they're repulsive and taste like sweet farts.

Ensalada Mexicana

That salad I spent far too much time on yesterday trying to make the write up entertaining, informative, or at least not so entirely self-indulgent as to alienate my non-existent readers?

Well, today's lunch is it's bastard cousin, or what version I could throw together while cooking last night's dinner (side note--I like to cook two or three things at once.  It's challenging, and I'm a spaz, so I have a hard time focusing on just one thing.  I prefer a more schizophrenic approach to meal preparation). 

As I was slicing a FIL garden cuke for quick pickles, I thinly sliced a section and set it aside.  I chopped up a ton of lettuce from this week's CSA share, and pulled the remaining black beans from the aforementioned salad out of the fridge--and spied a lonely single slice of pepperjack cheese, which got minced up and tossed in, along with extra scallions I had pre-chopped due to an excessive scallion chopping bonanza the night before.  And, since I'm just sugary sweet, I made two salads so that A wouldn't go hungry at lunch time.  With an apple and kimchi---write up coming soon--it was a tasty, fruit-and-veggie filled healthy lunch.

BBQ Chicken Salad

Ok.  I've been sitting here for, on and off, three hours starting and erasing rants and raves about how to intro this salad I made on Friday (my favorite of all salads, widely available in various incarnations at chain restaurants across the country).  What I like and don't like about salads-as-meals, how to make a salad not suck, why most of them do, etc.  Ad nauseum.

Then I realized, YOU ARE TALKIGN ABOUT SALAD.  Like, a bunch of lettuce and toppings dumped in a bowl and topped with a dressing of some sort--certainly not rocket science, and definitely not the frontiers of cooking on which the aforementioned foodies could certainly postulate for hours upon end.  Everyone can toss together some sort of salad mixture, open a bottle of hidden valley and call it a day.  Any restaurant nowadays has several versions of a meal-sized salad on their menus, reflecting this recent "healthy" "trend." You've all eaten hundreds of lackluster salads, maybe a few great ones here and there, but by and large have been bored by most of them.

There just isn't really much to say about salad.  And there, I thought, is the problem. We think they are so common and banal nowadays that we don't think about them, we just throw them together and coat them with something bottled.  Now, really, even I admit there is an upper limit--and a low one at that--on how exciting a salad can be.  But it can be a lot better than a pale tomato wedge, shredded carrot, and bottled dressing on iceberg.

Instead, tyy to branch out a little bit and throw weird things into a salad.  I'm on a crushed tortilla chip kick right now (use them instead of croutons!).  Go through the fridge for leftovers and see what you can toss into a bowl of lettuce--beans, cooked veggies, any meat diced up, roasted potatoes, etc.  Make your own croutons by tossing bread cubes with garlic oil (or any old oil and spices) salt & pepper and toasting them in the toaster oven (or in a skillet).  Likewise, making your own salad dressing is an easy endeavor, and one that everyone should at least try...but I'll never give up the convenience of bottled dressing either.

So, anyway, this is the best write-up I can do today, and it really doesn't do justice to this, my favorite salad, inspired by the BBQ chicken salad at California Pizza Kitchen and the Southwestern Chicken Salad at Rio Bravo, although I certainly don't think these two chains have the market cornered on this fairly common salad incarnation.  It mixes in a ton of veggies so it isn't like eating a big pile of lettuce, and with two bottled dressings it couldn't be easier to put together.  A little spicy, a lot crunchy, many different flavors going on besides just lettuce and dressing.  And, if you're lucky enough to have a father in law with a green thumb, you'll have lots of garden-fresh produce ready to marry together.

And, internet, I apologize for the crappy camera phone shot of it all mixed up.  I had this great cobb salad-like shot of all the ingredients piled together, yet separate, in the bowl, but where it went I can't fathom.  So this is all you get. 

Granola

No clever title today, folks, just straight up truth.  Here it is: Don't buy granola.  Just don't.  It's way to easy to make it to spend premium prices on it, no matter how organic or gourmet or hippiecrunchy it may claim to be.  It's just oats, nuts, grains, fruits, and spice, stirred and baked.  No magic, just wholesomeness. Plus, it makes your house smell incredible when you make it...

That said, I really do like the Bear Naked brand of granola that my mom introduced me to. 

So, assuming you're still with me here, and assuming that you want to try to make your own granola after my thoroughly convincing and sensible rant up there, you basically need to remember a basic formula, which is basically how I make anything: do it until it looks right.  Is that helpful or what?

Let's try to explain that above a kindergarten level.  I usually start with 3 cups of whole oats (not instant).  Then I start adding in dry ingredients--coconut flakes, chopped nuts (almonds are particularly good), puffed rice, various seeds (sesame or sunflower), or other grains--another 1-2 cups total.  I go ahead and stir in my dried fruit in right now as well, about another cup, although if using raisins I reserve them until almost or after done baking, otherwise they get a little caramelized and tough.

Once everything is stirred together, you want about a 1:5 ratio of liquid to solids, give or take (some would probably argue closer to a 1:4 or 1:3 ratio, which would make a "clumpier" granola, but I would rather keep the calories down a bit where I can).  A lot of commercial granolas use oil as the primary liquid, and this is where you really can take liberties and make it more healthful.  Honey and maple syrup are excellent substitutes for a good deal of the oil. I always use about 1/4 cup of brown sugar, but I've been tempted to try molasses and see what happens then.  And, sugar counts as a wet ingredient in baking, so i count it in the liquid ratio here.  When you mix the liquids into the solids, you want a dampish mixture, not overly wet.  Then add any spices and about 1/2 tsp salt.  Bake, cool, and enjoy!  More formal recipe after the jump.

And fall comes back in a day

What is with the weather? An 85-and-cloudless sunny day one special weekend (we did!) and 60 and breezy the next.  Then 80 again, then 60 again.  And the nights?  The nights are COLD...at 55 degrees (ask me in January what my perception of cold is, OK?)

I love it.  I know, the above seemed "complainy." But the fall is the best of all seasons.  Who doesn't love pulling on a sweater for the first time, getting a blanket back on the bed, hearing the leaves crunching underfoot, watching football, eating chili, starting bonfires, and any other iconic fall image?  Don't even get me started on how much I love midwesterny thrills like pumpkin carving (PUMPKIN SEEDS!  YOU ARE ALMOST HERE!) and apple orchards (apple cider, cider donuts).  See, fall brings in a whole new wave of foods...not to mention halloween candy and THANKSGIVING.

But I'm already digressing.  The fall weather we're getting our first taste of has me thinking about fall flavors--squashes, baked casseroles, braised meats, earthy root veggies, and the like.  I've had this recipe torn out for the better part of a year--it comes from Bon Appetit's Thanksgiving issue as a suggestion for a meat-free dish to put on a vegetarian holiday table (specifically, from the column by Molly Wizenberg of Orangette).  It just looked goooooood--butternut squash, kale, and a mustard-wine custard mixture all baked into a savory bread pudding.  Or stuffing, or dressing, as it's called in these here parts.  All those fall flavors in a hearty, one-dish meal.  I had to have it.

But then I read a few things that freaked me out.  Two-and-a-half cups of cream?  Good lord.  How many extra steps before baking?  10 cups of bread?  Seven eggs?  Suddenly I realized why it was in the Thanksgiving issue, when indulgences are basically mandatory, and not an everyday, easy vegetarian section.  Because, seriously.  Three cups of cream in 6 servings?  I can't even pretend that I'm going to make it.  Order it in a restaurant, maybe, where I can be willfully ignorant of how much fat I'm eating, but in my own kitchen?  No.  My fat ethics won't let me.

So I adapted the recipe.  It's basically similar, but different enough that I'm going to post it as sorta my own.  But Molly, darling, all the credit goes to you.  I just don't want all the credit to go to my paunch.  Here's the original recipe in all its glory on Epicurious.com (and you can read a bunch of comments there, although I've always found the advice on them rather hit-or-miss).

In addition to lowering the fat content significantly, I changed up some ingredients.  I didn't have kale, only chard, and it was very, very wilted.  I had 1/2 lb of creminis to use up, and thought their earthiness would play right into the flavors going on in here.  And the amount of bread just seemed too hefty.  I really, really liked the result, and honestly can't imagine how indulgent the full version would taste (although maybe on Thanksgiving I'll find out...)  It's hearty and satisfying, but with the squash and chard it has enough veg going on that it doesn't feel too heavy.  My adapted version after the jump.

A retro kind of day

Foodies.  Just saying this moniker conjures a bunch of people with too much time on their hands musing about "mouthfeel" and "flavor nuances" and turning their noses up at anything that isn't inscrutably authentic or snobbishly highbrow.  They imagine themselves to be thoughtful, sharp critics and think it is their personal responsibility to tell everyone what the best food is.  And, should you disagree, well, then, you would just be wrong--and they would be aghast they that know such a person whose un-evolved tastes allow them to enjoy peasant fodder like a regular hot dog from a neighborhood stand.

These people are perverse.  Seriously.  Food is nourishment, not the acme of cultural awareness.  That we as an American culture are, by and large, privileged enough to have more food than we could ever want doesn't mean we have to be dicks about it, debating the merits of one gourmet cupcake over the next while people fight for grains of rice the world over. And, come on, food tastes differently to different people, and taste has no bearing on class or intelligence or status.  There is no best taco.  There is no best pizza. If there were, we'd only need one ubiquitous restaurant serving each--and unless you think McDonalds is the best burger or Starbucks is the best coffee, the sheer diversity of restaurants, cuisines, food trucks, convenience foods, farmers markets, CSAs, and countless other food ventures should tell you that lots of people have lots of opinions and lots of favorites about what they like to eat.

I've been called a foodie before.  For the record, I hate that word.  I just like to eat.  Really, I just think foodies are making it hard for people, like me, to like to eat and like to cook and like to talk about food to do all of these liking things without getting lumped into the en masse of food blowhards. This reminds me of a Mitch Hedburg joke: "I'm not a boating enthusiast.  I'm just a guy who likes to boat."

So now that that's off my chest, I can confess that I'm pretty much an anti-foodie (surprise) and really, I don't love gourmet too much.  I like food to be simple; to taste like its ingredients; to be recognizable; to be satisfying in taste, wholesomeness, emotionally.  Yes, emotionally.  Sharing meals with people is a basic rite of humanity, and it remains a deeply human way to bond with people.

And I also love trashy food.  Like, fast food, junk food, 1950s food--jello molds, soup-mix dips, mayonnaise-laden salads.  They taste like comfort to me. As does my tangy Macaroni Salad, which I made last week to just have on hand.  It's totally 1950s--really, most macaroni salads are 1950s--and I say that absolutely endearingly.  I almost never order macaroni deli salads, because they are never as good as I want them to be--as good as this one, or at least as good as I find this one to be.  But people love it!  Foodies might call this a guilty pleasure--but I say, there should be no guilt about it.  It's just good, so get the gourmet chip off your shoulder and dig in like the rest of us (and, at my house, that's usually in front of the fridge, with a fork, eating right out of the container).  And, like usual, it didn't last long. JUMP!

Fall is finally here...

and, to celebrate its arrival, I'm trying to squeeze in as much summer fun into these last few warm weeks.  Which partly accounts for why I've missed my CSA pickup for two weeks running...shameful shrug...alas, sometimes you just can't win them all.

So, as a result, instead of the Mustard-Rosemary Roasted Chicken with Carrots and Potatoes I planned to make last night (doesn't that name and the warm, woodsy, spicy flavors it implies conjure up images of turned leaves and crisp air?), I turned on the grill and clung to my bottle of BBQ sauce, abandoning my fall roasting for one of the last turns at the grill I'll have this year.  Well, that's not entirely true, considering I will grill in all seasons, but when it isn't summer grilling just isn't the same.  (BTW, the recipe looked nice and meaty--nothing green in sight, Aunt L!!--but I couldn't find it to link to.  It was from Martha Stewart Living and was very simple--chicken thighs, whole carrots and halved red potatoes tossed with olive oil, rosemary, garlic and Dijon mustard; salted and peppered; and roasted on a single pan until all done.  Mmmm.....I'll have to come back to that.)

Thus, new cooking method decided, I was at a loss for how to round out the din-din.  I spied a aging head of broccoli in the back, and some getting-to-be overly ripe yellow pear tomatoes on the counter, and a recent fondness for better-made deli salads (1950s macaroni salad recipe coming soon!!) and I realized that it was all about Broccoli Salad today. MMMMMMM.  Sorry, it's green, but it has bacon in it, so that un-greens it a little.

I looked up a few recipes, realized how god-forsakenly simple they were, so I plowed ahead and made my own....after the jump!  Served with BBQ chicken and grilled tomato bread (lightly brush hearty bread slices with olive oil; grill, then rub a tomato quarter on one side to get all the seeds and juices all over it; salt & enjoy.  Sounds weird, and maybe it is, but tomato bread is common in Spain and just as delicious on this side of the pond).  Doesn't that all just taste like summer?   MMMM.