Hello, food-fans! The end of the heaviest semester of classes I have ever taken is in sight! One more week and then I am done until September, for what I am hoping will be my last semester---of course, I am toying with the idea of going for a Master's, but the jury is still out for that.
This semester has taught me many many things, both in the classroom, and out. I have learned some lessons the hard way. Some have even shocked me, rocked me to the core. But in the quest for knowledge one must be open to an education from any source. The wounds are sure to heal; the scars will remain with me always. Life goes on, and this too, shall pass.
So what have I learned in the food category? That although my husband of 24 years and I like many of the same foods, and our preparations share many elements, when it comes down to it, each person has their own take, or version; their own touch; their own spice that flavors the food they prepare. The Big E has followed many of my recipes from this blog, yet they taste different than when I make them. He uses the same ingredients, the same steps and techniques, yet the final product is just different. Certain of his preparations I prefer, others, not so much. I am sure he feels the same way. Actually, I know he feels the same way, because now I understand why he goes into the kitchen and returns to the dining room table with different spices and "doctors" my dishes. He wants to bring out a different taste than I have brought to the table. I get it now. I should not be offended, as I usually am. His tastes are merely different than mine. He sees through his own lens, and has his taste buds looking for his preferred taste.
Why didn't he just tell me? Probably because he doesn't understand it, either. But now that I do, there will be less rolling of my eyes or getting ticked because he always has to "fix" what I prepare. I have found myself doing the same thing. Who knew?
Since today is Saturday it is my turn to cook dinner, once again. I really do miss cooking all week, although at the beginning it was a welcomed reprieve from the daily drudgery. I chuckled to myself when speaking to the Big E over the phone this morning he told me what was on sale at the grocery store, and made a point-blank suggestion of what I should cook tonight. I did not balk. He wants boneless ribs--boneless ribs it will be. Saved me from wracking my brain trying to figure out what to make.
I rubbed the ribs with a concoction of salt, brown sugar and maple syrup. Let it dry and then spread it on the ribs. Put it in a slow oven (250 degrees) uncovered for about an hour and half; turned the ribs spread the concoction on the other side and back in the oven for another hour. Then slathered them with some Sweet Baby Rays and put them back in at 350 to glaze.
I scrubbed a bunch of russet potatoes, cut them into wedges. then I mixed olive oil, garlic, salt, pepper and parsley and diced up a large onion, tossing all in a sprayed ceramic dish. Covered them with foil, and after an hour, stirred the whole kit n caboodle, and then left the cover off to brown them up. They smell divine.
I grabbed a bag of imported green beans--really? Imported green beans? Who knew? And yes, I will micro-nuke them because I am lazy--even when I only cook on the weekends. I even grabbed some ice cream--oh, correction: frozen dairy dessert. Really? Frozen dairy dessert? I am going to have to look more into what that is all about. But the Big E has been missing his sweet-fix in the evenings, or so he has told me-I am not usually here in the evenings.
So dinner is just about ready, but I wanted to check in with you to let you know that I am still hanging around and although I am relegated to weekends-only cooking I still do cook!
Until next time....
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Peanut Butter Balls
Chocolate and peanut butter, its a love-hate thing; either you love the combination or you hate it, or worse, you're allergic to either ingredient, and worse than that: you're allergic to both! Oh, boy, I am sure hoping no one out there suffers such a fate.
Well, the Number Two son just adores the combination and being a bear as, well, an infant, baby, toddler, school-age, tween, teen, young man, young adult, and now adult, I would make him special things to try to cool his ferocity. No, I wasn't rewarding him, I was showing him that even though he was a tough cookie, I still loved him and would do special things for him, just like I did for his brothers. Those precious few moments that he was calm, cool, collected, and happy, were worth all the effort. I only make these Christmas time, because no one in this house needs a steady supply of sugar heavy treats year round.
Well, the Number Two son just adores the combination and being a bear as, well, an infant, baby, toddler, school-age, tween, teen, young man, young adult, and now adult, I would make him special things to try to cool his ferocity. No, I wasn't rewarding him, I was showing him that even though he was a tough cookie, I still loved him and would do special things for him, just like I did for his brothers. Those precious few moments that he was calm, cool, collected, and happy, were worth all the effort. I only make these Christmas time, because no one in this house needs a steady supply of sugar heavy treats year round.
Shortcut Central is open again! Ham & Potatoes w/ Cheese April 21, 2013
I went a a tear a while ago with shortcuts and lo and behold I have found yet another one! In the spirit of the immigrants of 97 Orchard that I have ranted on about in previous posts I am on a bit of a "stretch the food budget" train. For Easter I made a spiral sliced ham; granted the poor immigrants of the early 1900's would not have had the luxury of freezing leftover pieces of the ham, but I am not trying to live like they did back then, only find inspiration in their trials of stretching money and the food it buys.
When I awoke this morning a little after 9am--I am not an early riser as those of you who know or follow me are fully aware--I stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen where as usual I found the Big E. He'd been up since 5 or 6 am--how he does that I haven't a clue, but I am too old to change my habits now, so we will just gloss over the fact that he has been enjoying peace and quiet for several hours before I grace him with my presence.
It is a Sunday morning, so according to our "arrangement" it is my turn to cook. He has been doing the bulk--okay all-- of the weekday cooking since my new employment has me leaving the house in the afternoon and coming home around midnight. Conveniently, he says, I get out of cooking Monday through Friday. The original plan was that I would start something for dinner and he would finish, or I would pop something in the crock pot. Neither of these scenarios have panned out very well and I admit I have dumped the cooking responsibility on him. He, however, has risen to the challenge, and, according to him, my blog has been a "Godsend". So I get a double satisfaction: I am not cooking 5 days a week, and someone is trying out my recipes and tips and giving me feedback. Its a win-win in my book.
I apparently was feeling a bit "froggy" this morning so I snapped a few times before I realized I needed to get more sleep--this danged cold just won't leave me alone. I reached into the freezer to see what we had and I grabbed the first thing my hand touched: leftover ham. I placed the package on my handy-dandy-speedy-thaw out tray, turned to the Big E and said, "We're having something with ham. Wake me at noon, I need to lay down." He grumbled something, that I probably was not meant to hear anyway and into la-la-land I escaped. I awoke on my own just before noon. I felt much better.
Leftover ham. what can I make with leftover ham? Immediately scalloped ham and potatoes comes to mind. My family, however needs cheese in this particular dish so I do not know if it is still scalloped ham and potatoes, but that's how it starts out, so that is what I call it. It is not, by any means, difficult to make, however I did not feel like shredding the cheese, and I use about half a pound of cheese. One thing I have noticed about not cooking everyday is that on the two days I do cook I am getting lazy and look for any way at all to make it all go faster.
Well, the only potatoes in the house had rooted through the bag and were too soft to really qualify as potatoes, so sorry, I had to trash them. The Big E was heading to town with #2 anyway for ... gee, I forget what, but I grabbed the sales flier for the grocery store. Super! Potatoes were on sale and there is a big 10 for $10 sale . Right there in color was a photo of Ragu Pasta Sauce in the 10 for $10 sale...they also have jarred cheese sauce... oh, man, there is my shortcut! Can you believe I got to tell that whole story just to let you know that I used a jarred cheese sauce (added some freshly grated cheddar as well)? Well, we all know I love to talk!
I did break down and peel the potatoes and then used the mandolin to slice them thin, the ham was still slightly frozen so I was able to slice it into nice strips that won't require the use of a knife at the table, and layered the potatoes, some dried onion(another shortcut), the ham, and the cheese sauce, then a sprinkling of shredded cheese. I ended up with three layers of potatoes, two of ham, and to be sure it is wet enough to cook the potatoes I added about a half cup of milk, covered it tightly with foil and into the oven--oh, I used my Pampered Chef rectangular stoneware casserole dish, sprayed with non-stick spray to aid in the clean-up.
I estimate it will take at least an hour, those potatoes can be stubborn sometimes, but the thin slices should help in that department. I will poke it after it is in for an hour, and judging by the resistance I get from the potatoes I will then decide if it needs more time or if I can take off the foil, add another layer of shredded cheese and then let it cook until the top cheese is melted and bubbly. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
Now I do know that I cheated on this recipe, using the jarred cheese sauce, but in this day and age with all of us pulled in 10 different ways at one time, every shortcut is a good one. I would have also like to skipped peeling the potatoes, but #1 complains about the skins and the Big E reminded me that the original recipe uses peeled potatoes so I didn't buck tradition all the way.
I will find some green vegetable in the freezer--we only use fresh or frozen--no canned here, except for the creamed corn in the corn soup, which I might not have blogged about. Oh, good, new topic to cover! I think I will also dig deep in the pantry and see if I have any more homemade applesauce. I think we are getting down to the end of that crop.
C'mon spring! Mama needs some apples on the trees!
Photo to come:
References
Ziegelman, Jane. 97 Orchard: an edible history of five immigrant families in one New York tenement. Balance of credits to com
When I awoke this morning a little after 9am--I am not an early riser as those of you who know or follow me are fully aware--I stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen where as usual I found the Big E. He'd been up since 5 or 6 am--how he does that I haven't a clue, but I am too old to change my habits now, so we will just gloss over the fact that he has been enjoying peace and quiet for several hours before I grace him with my presence.
It is a Sunday morning, so according to our "arrangement" it is my turn to cook. He has been doing the bulk--okay all-- of the weekday cooking since my new employment has me leaving the house in the afternoon and coming home around midnight. Conveniently, he says, I get out of cooking Monday through Friday. The original plan was that I would start something for dinner and he would finish, or I would pop something in the crock pot. Neither of these scenarios have panned out very well and I admit I have dumped the cooking responsibility on him. He, however, has risen to the challenge, and, according to him, my blog has been a "Godsend". So I get a double satisfaction: I am not cooking 5 days a week, and someone is trying out my recipes and tips and giving me feedback. Its a win-win in my book.
I apparently was feeling a bit "froggy" this morning so I snapped a few times before I realized I needed to get more sleep--this danged cold just won't leave me alone. I reached into the freezer to see what we had and I grabbed the first thing my hand touched: leftover ham. I placed the package on my handy-dandy-speedy-thaw out tray, turned to the Big E and said, "We're having something with ham. Wake me at noon, I need to lay down." He grumbled something, that I probably was not meant to hear anyway and into la-la-land I escaped. I awoke on my own just before noon. I felt much better.
Leftover ham. what can I make with leftover ham? Immediately scalloped ham and potatoes comes to mind. My family, however needs cheese in this particular dish so I do not know if it is still scalloped ham and potatoes, but that's how it starts out, so that is what I call it. It is not, by any means, difficult to make, however I did not feel like shredding the cheese, and I use about half a pound of cheese. One thing I have noticed about not cooking everyday is that on the two days I do cook I am getting lazy and look for any way at all to make it all go faster.
Well, the only potatoes in the house had rooted through the bag and were too soft to really qualify as potatoes, so sorry, I had to trash them. The Big E was heading to town with #2 anyway for ... gee, I forget what, but I grabbed the sales flier for the grocery store. Super! Potatoes were on sale and there is a big 10 for $10 sale . Right there in color was a photo of Ragu Pasta Sauce in the 10 for $10 sale...they also have jarred cheese sauce... oh, man, there is my shortcut! Can you believe I got to tell that whole story just to let you know that I used a jarred cheese sauce (added some freshly grated cheddar as well)? Well, we all know I love to talk!
I did break down and peel the potatoes and then used the mandolin to slice them thin, the ham was still slightly frozen so I was able to slice it into nice strips that won't require the use of a knife at the table, and layered the potatoes, some dried onion(another shortcut), the ham, and the cheese sauce, then a sprinkling of shredded cheese. I ended up with three layers of potatoes, two of ham, and to be sure it is wet enough to cook the potatoes I added about a half cup of milk, covered it tightly with foil and into the oven--oh, I used my Pampered Chef rectangular stoneware casserole dish, sprayed with non-stick spray to aid in the clean-up.
I estimate it will take at least an hour, those potatoes can be stubborn sometimes, but the thin slices should help in that department. I will poke it after it is in for an hour, and judging by the resistance I get from the potatoes I will then decide if it needs more time or if I can take off the foil, add another layer of shredded cheese and then let it cook until the top cheese is melted and bubbly. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
Now I do know that I cheated on this recipe, using the jarred cheese sauce, but in this day and age with all of us pulled in 10 different ways at one time, every shortcut is a good one. I would have also like to skipped peeling the potatoes, but #1 complains about the skins and the Big E reminded me that the original recipe uses peeled potatoes so I didn't buck tradition all the way.
I will find some green vegetable in the freezer--we only use fresh or frozen--no canned here, except for the creamed corn in the corn soup, which I might not have blogged about. Oh, good, new topic to cover! I think I will also dig deep in the pantry and see if I have any more homemade applesauce. I think we are getting down to the end of that crop.
C'mon spring! Mama needs some apples on the trees!
Photo to come:
References
Ziegelman, Jane. 97 Orchard: an edible history of five immigrant families in one New York tenement. Balance of credits to com
April Come She Will/ Smothered Sausage
"April, come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain" (Simon 1965).
One of my earliest realizations that poetry was awesome.
But we will not discuss poetry right now, however, I reserve the right to wax poetic sometime in the future.
I have been doing more thinking about my heritages and food. While my personal experiences do not compare to the frugal times of the mid-1800's to the World War II days, I have also noticed that what defines Italian cuisine now was not even in dreams back then.
That brings me to the Big E's latest "love": Smothered sausage. I have seen smothered things on menus before but never took the time to check them out. The Big E went to a restaurant with his brother and a business associate a few months back and he came home yelling "why have you never made smothered sausage before?" Well, for starters I never heard of it, second, what do we smother it with? And third, well, you get the picture.
After much research I could not find anything that even remotely came close to the dish he described. So with his memory, pen, paper and a fully stocked kitchen, we set out to re-create the smothered sausage he had not been able to stop dreaming about.
Because of our diverse tastes right in our own home we decided we would include both sweet and hot Italian sausage. The hot sausage purchased locally is not so hot that my delicate palate rebels. Cutting the amount of hot sausage with the addition of sweet sausage eases my fears of biting into something too spicy; something that will not bother my newly finicky stomach. With that decision in place, we start out and make Italian bread, or in this case, rolls--sub rolls.
Somewhere else in this blog I have the best recipe for Italian bread on the planet. Easy and if you follow the directions it is foolproof. The Big E's only criticism of the recipe, well, all bread recipes, is that it takes a long, long time with all the rising times. Hey good things come to those who wait. We make eight 12-inch sub rolls out of the recipe, take them out of the oven and remove them to a cooling rack.
While the bread is baking steam the sausage in about 1/4-1/2 inch of water in a large skillet on top of the stove. I cover it to ensure the sausage is cooked inside. When the water evaporates the sausage is usually done, but remove the cover and continue to brown the sausage in the same pan. Slice the cooked sausage into 1/4 inch rounds. Remove sausage to another bowl and cover to keep warm.
Peel two Vidalia onions, cut in half, then slice thinly. Heat two tablespoons olive oil in the same pan you used for the sausage, get it real hot, until it ripples. Toss in the slices of onion (and stand back so you don't get splattered with hot oil). Sweat the onions and let them begin to caramelize. Toss in green and/or red peppers that have been seeded and sliced--you will need three really good sized peppers. I like to mix both green and red, for the sweetness the red peppers bring to the dish. I cook the peppers only until they just start to go limp--but that is a personal preference--you know the routine--it's your kitchen and your family--cook the peppers to your preference.
Now it is time to do some smothering! Spray a 13 x 9 inch oven proof dish with non-stick spray, or grease it well if you don't use the spray stuff. Slice the rolls lengthwise and place them in a single layer in the prepared dish. Top the rolls with the sliced sausage, then the onions and peppers, then top with about 2 cups of spaghetti sauce--any kind: homemade or jarred, your family's favorite is fine. Then cover the whole schebang with shredded mozzarella and if you really want it decadent add some shredded cheddar as well. Slide the dish into a 375 degree oven and let 'er bake for about half an hour. The cheese needs to be melted and bubbling and starting to brown. The sauce should be bubbling up as well. Let it sit for about 10 minutes before cutting into it and serve it like lasagna. OMG(oodness) Talk about a home run!
I cannot imagine that any of my ancestors would have ever indulged in this type of dish, mainly because this style of Italian was made from necessity--the immigrants had to make do with what they had. The amount of meat alone would be sufficient to feed the neighborhood back in the early part of the 20th century.
My visit to Italy in 1972 also introduced me to real Italian food. They do not serve all the tomato based pastas in Italy, at least not in Rome or Florence. The food was more Mediterranean, and they served a larger mid-day meal than the evening meal. Lots of seafood, and fresh vegetables, salads, and lots of fresh fruit. Some pastries, such as sfogliatelle, the shell shaped pastry with all the flaky layers and Ricotta cheese inside, the occasional cannoli, rum cakes, strufoli, and the 7-layer cookies that are called either rainbow cookies or Italian flag cookies and Ricotta cookies. That's about all I need. I do make the Italian Flag cookies and the Ricotta Cookies around Christmas and I try to make them every year, as they both are a real hit.
Oh, and REAL cappuccino-- not that stuff they try to pass off as cappuccino in the States today. You know that stuff we find served in the "specialty coffee" houses that are popular today. No, real cappuccino--espresso with hot milk, steamed foamed milk--you can add sugar, shaved chocolate or cinnamon. The crazy flavors is more an American thing--and since we are on the subject I must must must clear the record: a latte is espresso with steamed milk--no sweetener--no flavors--no foam, and is usually drunk in the morning. It drives me batty to go to Starbucks and have to tell them how to make a latte. But at least I have finally learned how to order it so I get what I want and not end up with some monstrosity that is undrinkable. Thank you for letting me rant a bit. Just one of those things that has gotten muddled in translation. Now that I have cleared that up, I think I will get up tomorrow morning a make a pot of latte.
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain" (Simon 1965).
One of my earliest realizations that poetry was awesome.
But we will not discuss poetry right now, however, I reserve the right to wax poetic sometime in the future.
I have been doing more thinking about my heritages and food. While my personal experiences do not compare to the frugal times of the mid-1800's to the World War II days, I have also noticed that what defines Italian cuisine now was not even in dreams back then.
That brings me to the Big E's latest "love": Smothered sausage. I have seen smothered things on menus before but never took the time to check them out. The Big E went to a restaurant with his brother and a business associate a few months back and he came home yelling "why have you never made smothered sausage before?" Well, for starters I never heard of it, second, what do we smother it with? And third, well, you get the picture.
After much research I could not find anything that even remotely came close to the dish he described. So with his memory, pen, paper and a fully stocked kitchen, we set out to re-create the smothered sausage he had not been able to stop dreaming about.
Because of our diverse tastes right in our own home we decided we would include both sweet and hot Italian sausage. The hot sausage purchased locally is not so hot that my delicate palate rebels. Cutting the amount of hot sausage with the addition of sweet sausage eases my fears of biting into something too spicy; something that will not bother my newly finicky stomach. With that decision in place, we start out and make Italian bread, or in this case, rolls--sub rolls.
Somewhere else in this blog I have the best recipe for Italian bread on the planet. Easy and if you follow the directions it is foolproof. The Big E's only criticism of the recipe, well, all bread recipes, is that it takes a long, long time with all the rising times. Hey good things come to those who wait. We make eight 12-inch sub rolls out of the recipe, take them out of the oven and remove them to a cooling rack.
While the bread is baking steam the sausage in about 1/4-1/2 inch of water in a large skillet on top of the stove. I cover it to ensure the sausage is cooked inside. When the water evaporates the sausage is usually done, but remove the cover and continue to brown the sausage in the same pan. Slice the cooked sausage into 1/4 inch rounds. Remove sausage to another bowl and cover to keep warm.
Peel two Vidalia onions, cut in half, then slice thinly. Heat two tablespoons olive oil in the same pan you used for the sausage, get it real hot, until it ripples. Toss in the slices of onion (and stand back so you don't get splattered with hot oil). Sweat the onions and let them begin to caramelize. Toss in green and/or red peppers that have been seeded and sliced--you will need three really good sized peppers. I like to mix both green and red, for the sweetness the red peppers bring to the dish. I cook the peppers only until they just start to go limp--but that is a personal preference--you know the routine--it's your kitchen and your family--cook the peppers to your preference.
Now it is time to do some smothering! Spray a 13 x 9 inch oven proof dish with non-stick spray, or grease it well if you don't use the spray stuff. Slice the rolls lengthwise and place them in a single layer in the prepared dish. Top the rolls with the sliced sausage, then the onions and peppers, then top with about 2 cups of spaghetti sauce--any kind: homemade or jarred, your family's favorite is fine. Then cover the whole schebang with shredded mozzarella and if you really want it decadent add some shredded cheddar as well. Slide the dish into a 375 degree oven and let 'er bake for about half an hour. The cheese needs to be melted and bubbling and starting to brown. The sauce should be bubbling up as well. Let it sit for about 10 minutes before cutting into it and serve it like lasagna. OMG(oodness) Talk about a home run!
I cannot imagine that any of my ancestors would have ever indulged in this type of dish, mainly because this style of Italian was made from necessity--the immigrants had to make do with what they had. The amount of meat alone would be sufficient to feed the neighborhood back in the early part of the 20th century.
My visit to Italy in 1972 also introduced me to real Italian food. They do not serve all the tomato based pastas in Italy, at least not in Rome or Florence. The food was more Mediterranean, and they served a larger mid-day meal than the evening meal. Lots of seafood, and fresh vegetables, salads, and lots of fresh fruit. Some pastries, such as sfogliatelle, the shell shaped pastry with all the flaky layers and Ricotta cheese inside, the occasional cannoli, rum cakes, strufoli, and the 7-layer cookies that are called either rainbow cookies or Italian flag cookies and Ricotta cookies. That's about all I need. I do make the Italian Flag cookies and the Ricotta Cookies around Christmas and I try to make them every year, as they both are a real hit.
Oh, and REAL cappuccino-- not that stuff they try to pass off as cappuccino in the States today. You know that stuff we find served in the "specialty coffee" houses that are popular today. No, real cappuccino--espresso with hot milk, steamed foamed milk--you can add sugar, shaved chocolate or cinnamon. The crazy flavors is more an American thing--and since we are on the subject I must must must clear the record: a latte is espresso with steamed milk--no sweetener--no flavors--no foam, and is usually drunk in the morning. It drives me batty to go to Starbucks and have to tell them how to make a latte. But at least I have finally learned how to order it so I get what I want and not end up with some monstrosity that is undrinkable. Thank you for letting me rant a bit. Just one of those things that has gotten muddled in translation. Now that I have cleared that up, I think I will get up tomorrow morning a make a pot of latte.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Julie/Julia
I am reading Julie and Julia-My Year of Cooking Dangerously by Julie Powell who set up a self-challenge to cook all 524 recipes from Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 365 days, blogging about all of her experiences and what she was learning from the famous Julia Child's words of wisdom from the 1960's point of view and tastes.
I have watched some of Julia Child's cooking shows--she was a large, somewhat awkward woman, but what I always admired about Julia Child was there she was on national television messing up something she just cooked for the entire world to see and it was okay. It was still edible--no sense in wasting the food. So it tipped off the plate a bit, or stuck a bit..no worries. these mishaps happen in kitchens all over the world daily, probably thousands of times daily, so who is going to judge you? Anyone who does can leave my kitchen and starve for all I care.
Some things Julie Powell says in her book, however, would probably make Julia Child cringe. Powell drops the "F" bomb quite freely, and although I have been known to drop the same bomb on occasion, I try to keep it where it will not offend others. Apparently Powell doesn't give a "rat's ass" to quote her. I think, in my first book, I would keep it a bit more "G" audience friendly--I need readers and I do not need some moms telling their kids they cannot read Aunt Barbara. No, I can keep it clean for the general public. My private writings however, all rules are off!
Powell's writing about the egg section has me realizing I can make eggs, but I have never made eggs poached in red wine, or any of the wonderful sounding sauces to go with the eggs, except I have recently tried my hand at Hollandaise sauce and was very pleasantly surprised that the tip Julia gives you is what makes the difference between a successful Hollandaise or a flop. I have only served Hollandaise with steamed asparagus, but both times it came out perfect. I will be making Eggs Benedict someday soon and my Hollandaise is up for the challenge!
I do not plan on cooking my way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking or anything but there are recipes that have me intrigued so I will be challenging myself to give them a good old Julie Powell whirl!
Child, Julia. Mastering the art of French cooking BALANCE OF CREDIT TO COME
Powell, Julie. Julie and Julia: mastering the art of French cooking. BALANCE OF CREDITS TO COME
I have watched some of Julia Child's cooking shows--she was a large, somewhat awkward woman, but what I always admired about Julia Child was there she was on national television messing up something she just cooked for the entire world to see and it was okay. It was still edible--no sense in wasting the food. So it tipped off the plate a bit, or stuck a bit..no worries. these mishaps happen in kitchens all over the world daily, probably thousands of times daily, so who is going to judge you? Anyone who does can leave my kitchen and starve for all I care.
Some things Julie Powell says in her book, however, would probably make Julia Child cringe. Powell drops the "F" bomb quite freely, and although I have been known to drop the same bomb on occasion, I try to keep it where it will not offend others. Apparently Powell doesn't give a "rat's ass" to quote her. I think, in my first book, I would keep it a bit more "G" audience friendly--I need readers and I do not need some moms telling their kids they cannot read Aunt Barbara. No, I can keep it clean for the general public. My private writings however, all rules are off!
Powell's writing about the egg section has me realizing I can make eggs, but I have never made eggs poached in red wine, or any of the wonderful sounding sauces to go with the eggs, except I have recently tried my hand at Hollandaise sauce and was very pleasantly surprised that the tip Julia gives you is what makes the difference between a successful Hollandaise or a flop. I have only served Hollandaise with steamed asparagus, but both times it came out perfect. I will be making Eggs Benedict someday soon and my Hollandaise is up for the challenge!
I do not plan on cooking my way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking or anything but there are recipes that have me intrigued so I will be challenging myself to give them a good old Julie Powell whirl!
Child, Julia. Mastering the art of French cooking BALANCE OF CREDIT TO COME
Powell, Julie. Julie and Julia: mastering the art of French cooking. BALANCE OF CREDITS TO COME
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Time Marches On/ THE ONLY WAY to enjoy Corned beef - March 24, 2013
It is March again. No, I will not got into the rant about time moving so fast here, but I will invariably say it again somewhere along the line.
So here we are in March once more. Just in time for Chocolate Chip Cookie Week, the second week of March. There is nothing finer than a Nestle Tollhouse Cookie, still warm from the oven, so in honor of this week's celebration I whipped up a batch last night, right there in front of the Big E, and #2--how daring of me! I left them in the kitchen with about 4 dozen cookies or so, and when I returned from working on my paper for Communication and the Law there was not a cookie in sight. Although I was not surprised, I was, once again, a bit ticked.
It takes work to make those cookies, do they really have to eat them all in one sitting? I was so pleasantly surprised when my husband sent me under the pot and pan cabinet, and there in its own zip top bag, were 3 dozen cookies--they each had a couple and then put the rest out of sight so they would not be tempted.
They left some out later last night for #1 son and his girlfriend, but kept the bulk of the batch hidden. It was wonderful to be able to have a couple of cookies tonight as we watched TV together. Now this is nice.
The month of March is also the time to celebrate Flour, Frozen Food, Peanuts, Noodles, and it is Caffeine Awareness Month. As usual the Food celebration committee, whoever they may be, have given us a very diverse month. With St Patrick's day right smack dab in the middle, with National Corned Beef and Cabbage Day, we literally can celebrate soup to nuts
Corned beef and cabbage, currently lauded as an Irish heritage meal is in reality, anything but that. Reading 97 Orchard: an Edible History of Five Immigrant Families in One New York Tenement, by Jane Ziegelman I learned that it is a fallacy. Irish immigrants did not have a cuisine that diverse to represent their homeland, as their entire diet was based on the potato until the crop failed and the Irish Potato famine of the 1840's all but starved the entire country, at least the peasants.Another important piece to the Irish Potato Famine story is that most of the peasants were Catholic, as the laws at that time prohibited Catholics from owning property or holding down a job; they survived being tenant farmers, and when the potato crop failed for subsequent years they were left with nothing to pay their rents or to feed their families.
Not only did the peasants start starving to death, but they started fleeing the country in an attempt to merely survive. Landing in New York City, ending up on the Lower East side of Manhattan, they became neighbors with Jewish immigrants and as a result corned beef crossed over from Jewish households to Irish. Substituting the corned beef for their beloved bacon the boiled dinner was devised and now it is heralded as authentic Irish fare.
Over the 150 years since the potato famine and mass exodus of Irish peasants to the New World, the Irish have re-found pride in their heritage, their strength to survive such a national catastrophe that wiped out anywhere from 750,000 to 1.5 million of their people, depending on which statistics you want to believe. Either way, that was a lot of people who perished because of their reliance on one foodstuff.
Another misnomer, now that we are on the subject of misnomers, is that potatoes are not native to Ireland. No, they are not. They are native to South America and during the exploration of the New World, which began in the 1500's, the tuberous plant was brought back to Europe. Ireland just seemed to have the perfect climate for the crop, plus in the small plots peasants were allowed to farm they could grow an abundance of potatoes to pay their rents and feed their growing families.
Of course for St Patrick's day I made corned beef and cabbage, although I do make it more than once a year, as we all like it. This year, however, while I was snooping around the internet I kept finding recipes with a bit of a twist. After the corned beef is cooked you remove it from the briny water it has been cooking in pat it dry, slather it with mustard, sprinkle with brown sugar and put it in a hot oven for 15-20 minutes until the sugar melts and caramelizes. I read the directions to the Big E and he agreed it sounded great, so I tried it. Holy corned beef, Bat Man, this little "addition" brought the traditional corned beef to a whole new level. No, it wasn't kicked up a notch, Emeril, but about 30 notches. Who knew? Apparently all the people who posted the recipe on the internet.
I am a convert--I will never make corned beef again without that final step--it was that good.
How about you? Do you have any secrets that make a dish THAT much better? Sharing requested!
References:
to come
So here we are in March once more. Just in time for Chocolate Chip Cookie Week, the second week of March. There is nothing finer than a Nestle Tollhouse Cookie, still warm from the oven, so in honor of this week's celebration I whipped up a batch last night, right there in front of the Big E, and #2--how daring of me! I left them in the kitchen with about 4 dozen cookies or so, and when I returned from working on my paper for Communication and the Law there was not a cookie in sight. Although I was not surprised, I was, once again, a bit ticked.
It takes work to make those cookies, do they really have to eat them all in one sitting? I was so pleasantly surprised when my husband sent me under the pot and pan cabinet, and there in its own zip top bag, were 3 dozen cookies--they each had a couple and then put the rest out of sight so they would not be tempted.
They left some out later last night for #1 son and his girlfriend, but kept the bulk of the batch hidden. It was wonderful to be able to have a couple of cookies tonight as we watched TV together. Now this is nice.
The month of March is also the time to celebrate Flour, Frozen Food, Peanuts, Noodles, and it is Caffeine Awareness Month. As usual the Food celebration committee, whoever they may be, have given us a very diverse month. With St Patrick's day right smack dab in the middle, with National Corned Beef and Cabbage Day, we literally can celebrate soup to nuts
Corned beef and cabbage, currently lauded as an Irish heritage meal is in reality, anything but that. Reading 97 Orchard: an Edible History of Five Immigrant Families in One New York Tenement, by Jane Ziegelman I learned that it is a fallacy. Irish immigrants did not have a cuisine that diverse to represent their homeland, as their entire diet was based on the potato until the crop failed and the Irish Potato famine of the 1840's all but starved the entire country, at least the peasants.Another important piece to the Irish Potato Famine story is that most of the peasants were Catholic, as the laws at that time prohibited Catholics from owning property or holding down a job; they survived being tenant farmers, and when the potato crop failed for subsequent years they were left with nothing to pay their rents or to feed their families.
Not only did the peasants start starving to death, but they started fleeing the country in an attempt to merely survive. Landing in New York City, ending up on the Lower East side of Manhattan, they became neighbors with Jewish immigrants and as a result corned beef crossed over from Jewish households to Irish. Substituting the corned beef for their beloved bacon the boiled dinner was devised and now it is heralded as authentic Irish fare.
Over the 150 years since the potato famine and mass exodus of Irish peasants to the New World, the Irish have re-found pride in their heritage, their strength to survive such a national catastrophe that wiped out anywhere from 750,000 to 1.5 million of their people, depending on which statistics you want to believe. Either way, that was a lot of people who perished because of their reliance on one foodstuff.
Another misnomer, now that we are on the subject of misnomers, is that potatoes are not native to Ireland. No, they are not. They are native to South America and during the exploration of the New World, which began in the 1500's, the tuberous plant was brought back to Europe. Ireland just seemed to have the perfect climate for the crop, plus in the small plots peasants were allowed to farm they could grow an abundance of potatoes to pay their rents and feed their growing families.
Of course for St Patrick's day I made corned beef and cabbage, although I do make it more than once a year, as we all like it. This year, however, while I was snooping around the internet I kept finding recipes with a bit of a twist. After the corned beef is cooked you remove it from the briny water it has been cooking in pat it dry, slather it with mustard, sprinkle with brown sugar and put it in a hot oven for 15-20 minutes until the sugar melts and caramelizes. I read the directions to the Big E and he agreed it sounded great, so I tried it. Holy corned beef, Bat Man, this little "addition" brought the traditional corned beef to a whole new level. No, it wasn't kicked up a notch, Emeril, but about 30 notches. Who knew? Apparently all the people who posted the recipe on the internet.
I am a convert--I will never make corned beef again without that final step--it was that good.
How about you? Do you have any secrets that make a dish THAT much better? Sharing requested!
References:
to come
Saturday, March 2, 2013
It's February---again Never Fail Bread Dough March 2, 2013
Drats, I hate February, and here we are in the middle of February again. In the middle of February there is no green, and in the case of Otsego County NY, no blue skies. What is it with this area of upstate NY? It seems to be overcast and gray 95% of the time from mid October until mid May; very depressing, and they say Seattle has a high level of depression and suicide, I wonder what the statistics show for this area? Not something I really care to ponder within this blog, just setting the mood.
So, what do we do to raise the spirits amid the gray skies of February? Cook! Cooking is the answer to all that ails me, unless of course I am delirious and cannot stand up, then forget about cooking, but I am not at that point, yet. There is only one thing better, for me than cooking to raise my spirits and that is teaching someone else to cook. I taught my husband, the Big E, how to make bread today. At his request, I introduced him to my recipe, well, actually Donna's recipe with my alterations, for the perfect homemade Italian style bread. We are going to be making Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches and the Big E decided to make the rolls himself---he is finding being unemployed as uninteresting as I did; he is also finding that filling your time between job searches and interviews with cooking is very rewarding. Cooking gives a sense of purpose and fills the need to be productive within the family. And gives me a break while I try to juggle a full time job and four classes.
Baking bread is an excellent way to really feel productive and useful. Bread is so widely available and not all that expensive. It is one of the staples of life, but making homemade bread, brings me a level of satisfaction that goes much deeper than just putting a good, healthy meal on the table. It gives me a down to the bones feeling of accomplishment. Bread making heals my soul, and as each successive step is, well, succeeded, the pride and feelings of self-worth are re-enforced. So February, for me, is an excellent month to experiment with bread baking. Here we are in the deepest darkest despair that Old Man Winter has thrust upon us, and there is a light of hope in the breads we bake.
The recipe for the bread the Big E made is so easy it is scary.
1/2 cup water- 105 to 117 degrees F, any cooler, the yeast won't bloom, any hotter and the little yeast beasties will die. (Read: use your kitchen thermometer to be sure of the temperature.)
In a 1 cup measure mix water and 1 package of instant dry yeast--or in my case 2-1/4 teaspoons of instant dry yeast--I do not buy my yeast in packets because I use too much of it. I buy in bulk, keeping it in the freezer between uses--word of caution: I wrap my package of bulk yeast in paper towel, and put in a freezer zip-top bag, if the yeast touches ice it will also die--I take the yeast I need out of the freezer about half an hour before I am going to use it--to bring it to room temperature. I honestly do not know if using the yeast while frozen would affect the outcome, but I know if I was freezing, jumping into a hot bath might be too much of a shock to my system, so I imagine yeast might "feel" the same way. (Yes, I heard what I said, but I am sticking to it.)
Stir to dissolve the yeast and set aside until foamy on top.
In a two cup measure, add 1 cup of warm water--same rule for the temperature
2 tablespoons granulated sugar, 2 tablespoons melted butter and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Stir to mix well and dissolve sugar and salt. Add the foamy yeast/water mixture.
Put 3 cups of all purpose flour in the bowl of your mixer that has been fitted with a dough hook.
Add the liquid and turn the mixer on low to work the flour slowing into the liquid. Be sure to scrape down the sides and the bottom of the bowl so there are no little pockets of flour or puddles of liquid. You will get a very sticky dough. Add more flour, 1/2 cup at a time until the dough forms a ball and pulls away from the sides of the bowl. I rarely have ever used more than 4 cups of flour, the recipe says you can go up to 5 cups. The Big E also used only 4 cups, so it must be something with the humidity in our kitchen. Knead the dough until you get a smooth stretchy dough. Let it rest 10 minutes. Knead on low another 5 minutes.
Put the dough in a greased bowl, turn it once to grease all sides of the ball of dough. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and a kitchen towel and put somewhere warm for 1-1/2 - 2 hours until double in size. To test for sufficient rising, take your index and middle fingers and push them into the side of the ball of dough. If the indentation stays there,it has risen enough, if it bounces back immediately, let it sit, covered a bit longer. Punch down the dough, cover it and let it rest 10 minutes.
Cut the dough into eights (for rolls); you can also just cut it in half to make 2 nice loaves of French bread, but we're making rolls here--sub rolls or hero rolls or hoagie rolls, or whatever they are called in your neck of the woods. Shape the rolls and put them on a lightly greased cookie sheet. You can sprinkle some cornmeal on the sheet pan instead of greasing it, your choice. Shape the rolls into log-shapes and place them side by side on the sheet pan, slash the tops about 4 times each across, paint with an egg wash (1 egg beaten lightly with 1 tablespoon of water) and sprinkle with sesame seed, poppy seed, granulated garlic, minced onion, or coarse salt, or nothing at all-- again your choice. We sometimes make 8 different mixtures and make one of each, or sometimes we leave them all plain, especially if we plan on making French toast with any leftover bread.
Cover the rolls with plastic/towel again for another hour to rise. Remove the coverings carefully and place in a preheated 350 degree oven. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. Done!
The Big E's rolls came out perfect, because this recipe never fails. Love to have you all give it a whirl and let me know how yours comes out. Okay?
Until next time...enjoy!
So, what do we do to raise the spirits amid the gray skies of February? Cook! Cooking is the answer to all that ails me, unless of course I am delirious and cannot stand up, then forget about cooking, but I am not at that point, yet. There is only one thing better, for me than cooking to raise my spirits and that is teaching someone else to cook. I taught my husband, the Big E, how to make bread today. At his request, I introduced him to my recipe, well, actually Donna's recipe with my alterations, for the perfect homemade Italian style bread. We are going to be making Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches and the Big E decided to make the rolls himself---he is finding being unemployed as uninteresting as I did; he is also finding that filling your time between job searches and interviews with cooking is very rewarding. Cooking gives a sense of purpose and fills the need to be productive within the family. And gives me a break while I try to juggle a full time job and four classes.
Baking bread is an excellent way to really feel productive and useful. Bread is so widely available and not all that expensive. It is one of the staples of life, but making homemade bread, brings me a level of satisfaction that goes much deeper than just putting a good, healthy meal on the table. It gives me a down to the bones feeling of accomplishment. Bread making heals my soul, and as each successive step is, well, succeeded, the pride and feelings of self-worth are re-enforced. So February, for me, is an excellent month to experiment with bread baking. Here we are in the deepest darkest despair that Old Man Winter has thrust upon us, and there is a light of hope in the breads we bake.
The recipe for the bread the Big E made is so easy it is scary.
1/2 cup water- 105 to 117 degrees F, any cooler, the yeast won't bloom, any hotter and the little yeast beasties will die. (Read: use your kitchen thermometer to be sure of the temperature.)
In a 1 cup measure mix water and 1 package of instant dry yeast--or in my case 2-1/4 teaspoons of instant dry yeast--I do not buy my yeast in packets because I use too much of it. I buy in bulk, keeping it in the freezer between uses--word of caution: I wrap my package of bulk yeast in paper towel, and put in a freezer zip-top bag, if the yeast touches ice it will also die--I take the yeast I need out of the freezer about half an hour before I am going to use it--to bring it to room temperature. I honestly do not know if using the yeast while frozen would affect the outcome, but I know if I was freezing, jumping into a hot bath might be too much of a shock to my system, so I imagine yeast might "feel" the same way. (Yes, I heard what I said, but I am sticking to it.)
Stir to dissolve the yeast and set aside until foamy on top.
In a two cup measure, add 1 cup of warm water--same rule for the temperature
2 tablespoons granulated sugar, 2 tablespoons melted butter and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Stir to mix well and dissolve sugar and salt. Add the foamy yeast/water mixture.
Put 3 cups of all purpose flour in the bowl of your mixer that has been fitted with a dough hook.
Add the liquid and turn the mixer on low to work the flour slowing into the liquid. Be sure to scrape down the sides and the bottom of the bowl so there are no little pockets of flour or puddles of liquid. You will get a very sticky dough. Add more flour, 1/2 cup at a time until the dough forms a ball and pulls away from the sides of the bowl. I rarely have ever used more than 4 cups of flour, the recipe says you can go up to 5 cups. The Big E also used only 4 cups, so it must be something with the humidity in our kitchen. Knead the dough until you get a smooth stretchy dough. Let it rest 10 minutes. Knead on low another 5 minutes.
Put the dough in a greased bowl, turn it once to grease all sides of the ball of dough. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and a kitchen towel and put somewhere warm for 1-1/2 - 2 hours until double in size. To test for sufficient rising, take your index and middle fingers and push them into the side of the ball of dough. If the indentation stays there,it has risen enough, if it bounces back immediately, let it sit, covered a bit longer. Punch down the dough, cover it and let it rest 10 minutes.
Cut the dough into eights (for rolls); you can also just cut it in half to make 2 nice loaves of French bread, but we're making rolls here--sub rolls or hero rolls or hoagie rolls, or whatever they are called in your neck of the woods. Shape the rolls and put them on a lightly greased cookie sheet. You can sprinkle some cornmeal on the sheet pan instead of greasing it, your choice. Shape the rolls into log-shapes and place them side by side on the sheet pan, slash the tops about 4 times each across, paint with an egg wash (1 egg beaten lightly with 1 tablespoon of water) and sprinkle with sesame seed, poppy seed, granulated garlic, minced onion, or coarse salt, or nothing at all-- again your choice. We sometimes make 8 different mixtures and make one of each, or sometimes we leave them all plain, especially if we plan on making French toast with any leftover bread.
Cover the rolls with plastic/towel again for another hour to rise. Remove the coverings carefully and place in a preheated 350 degree oven. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. Done!
The Big E's rolls came out perfect, because this recipe never fails. Love to have you all give it a whirl and let me know how yours comes out. Okay?
Until next time...enjoy!