I'm your standard everyday overachiever. I am one of those people who overschedule, overbook, overkill everything. And as I'm trying to do what good ole Semenza taught me to do in Graduate Study for the 21st Century and work work work harder, longer, and faster than even your professors work, just to prove your chutzpah, I find that I have no time for, well, anything not in some way directly related to schoolwork, including my 20 hour per week internship at the local NPR/PBS station.
The blog has taken a hit and for that I apologize. I still have my index cards. One, in particular, a nice eggplant meatball recipe, I've had Art make again and again for me to take in tupperware and leave in the faculty frig for supper before night class after teaching and doing NPR research all day. It's coming soon and believe me, you're going to love it. In the mean time, Mondays I get home in enough time to eat with my boys. Today, Art made a fun concoction that started out as stir fry before he realized we were out of the usual stir fry veggie standbys.
Instead, he added a bit too much dark chocolate baking cocoa into the rice, adding black beans, a can of tomatoes, a can of mixed veggies, and a can of diced tomatoes (dented and clearanced at Kroger). It was a rather strange color but utterly delicious. I have no photos. I have no recipe. Just my man, a pan, a larder full of canned goods, and a starved, overworked vegetarian in need of both vegetables and protein.
And chocolate, as everyone knows, goes with anything. Magic. Do I have the best guy on the planet or what, ladies? Black beans and chocolate... love if ever I saw it.
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Monday, September 20, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Using up my fresh garden veggies
The garden explosion is on. The zucchini have hit a lull, though any minute now, they look like they could just burst forth another brood of offspring. Eggplant are weighing down the eggplant vine to the dirty ground. Tomatoes abound. And the Kale...
My frig is stockpiled and all I can think is: I need some new recipes stat. On google, I typed "tomato and eggplant recipes" into the engine. Lo and behold, I happen upon a bounty of recipes, but one it particular seemed the order of the day.
Whole Wheat Penne w/ Eggplant, Zucchini, Kale, and Tomatoes. It seemed the recipe created specifically for my August garden.
What you need:
2 T olive oil
onion
2 med eggplants, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp. red pepper flakes
1 med. zucchini, diced
1 c. Kale
1 c. tomato (about one large one)
3T parmesan
salt and pepper
2 portions whole wheat penne
1. Boil the pasta.That's easy enough...
2. Heat large skillet over med. heat. Add oil and onion and saute 2 minutes. Not having 2 medium eggplants, dice up an assortment of mini fairytales and another non-globe variety. Realize you didn't cut up enough eggplant. Worry that you are running out of time and the oil is still sizzling. Enlist a kitchen helper (by way of handy cooking pseudo house husband) to help in the dicing. Manage to get all necessary eggplant. Add eggplant, garlic, red pepper flakes, salt. This will make for an oddly pretty mix of light brown with edges of purple ranging from lavender to aubergine and spots of red and dark brown. Cook until eggplant is browned, stirring, 6-8 minutes.
3. Realize you only have a tiny zucchini left from the garden's first zucchini onslaught. Dice it up anyway, aware that your meal will be light on the zucchini. Add zucchini and cook another 2 minutes. Add kale and cook one minute more. Add tomato, freshly plucked.
4. Stir and simmer about 1 to 2 more minutes. Add pasta water as needed so that the pan doesn't get too dry and the vegetables don't stick to the bottom of the pan. Add pasta to skillet. Add parmesan (The recipe originally calls for goat cheese. Who just keeps goat cheese lying around the refrigerator anyway?). Toss. Serve in bowls with an extra sprinkle of shredded cheese if desired.
The end result was very picture worthy, but very bland. I'm sure a few more spices could give it that needed pick-me-up. In my case, I hadn't had a lot of protein that day anyway, so I cooked up some fake sausage, cut it up, and added it to my bowl. Then there was plenty of spice to go around.
Even with the additions, I'm not sure I'd make this one again. There are so many great recipes out there to waste a re-do on mediocrity. Even so, I suppose it is a handy way to use the fresh veggies from the garden and that stockpile of pasta noodles we have in the pantry. I might just Kate-ify this one yet. I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Sweet Sea Bass and Vegetables en Papillote (and Chips of course)
So I googled. And I googled. And finally I came across the perfect site for creating your own fish en papillote recipe. It's a blog called "Cooking with Alison," and Alison, whoever you may be, I salute you.
Now, I'm not sure if I've covered this particular fishy subject in my blog thus far, but if I haven't, I will say it now: this vegetarian sometimes eats sea food. And by sea food, I mean fish or, in restaurants, calamari. The reason for this: my vegetarianism is based strictly upon my need to eat what makes me feel healthy that I can afford. I cannot afford pasture-raised organic bison. I can afford eco-friendly fish. I try to keep up on the seafood watch list, and I can assure you that white seabass is currently a best choice in their book... or pocket guide, as the case may be.
Either way, fish oil is just plain good for you. And fish is fine in moderation, just like margaritas.
So on with my fish exploration: en papillote is a style of cooking in which you place the fish is parchment paper with a variety of vegetables and herbs and pop it in the oven. Inside the paper, the fish steams itself, along with the vegetables and in no time, you have a very healthy meal in it's own carrying case.
Of course, if you have no parchment paper, tin foil is also quite functional, though less pretty:
Because this is a fish dinner, I felt it needed some chips. I always bake, rather than fry my potatoes, so start the oven early, at 400. Cut up a few potatoes into rounds, place on a baking sheet, and salt. Put in the oven for about 10 minutes.
Sweet Sea Bass and Vegetables en Papillote
(serves 2)
What you need:
1 whole sea bass, minus head and tail and sliced into two equal pieces
1 med. zucchini, cut into matchsticks
1 red bell pepper, sliced and quartered
salt and pepper
Olive oil
2 T Strawberry Balsamic Vinegar
Pinch ginger, cinnamon, paprika, Italian seasoning, seafood seasoning
1. Preheat oven for 425 On two large squares of tinfoil, place the zucchini and pepper equally into the middle of each square. salt and pepper lightly.
2. Salt and pepper both sides of fish. Place on top of veggies.
3. Drizzle 1 T of the vinegar on each piece of fish. The sprinkle with each of the seasonings. Drizzle a little olive oil on top of each and the fold the tinfoil into packets.
4. Place the packets on a baking sheet and put in the oven for about 20 minutes. Fish should be cooked through before eating.
The resulting meal is sweet and savory. The chips, a needed compliment to fish, add a necessary light and crispy side. The fish, dusted with sweet spices and steamed with strawberry-flavored vinegar, is light and slightly tangy without any of that "fishy" taste that I really dislike. But the vegetables, by far, steal the show. Having been essentially marinated in the strawberry-cinnamon mix as the liquid pooled in the bottom of the tinfoil, they are sweet and flavorful with a hint of cinnamon and ginger, a fleck here and there of oregano, rosemary, and basil. Easily some of the best but lightly zucchini I have ever made. And plan to make again.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Sweet quinoa and easy eggplant parm
I have been interested lately in quinoa. I kept seeing this ancient Americas grain in various recipes and cookbooks, so I got to thinking... perhaps I should try it. Eating quinoa, particularly for a vegetarian, has its upsides.
1. Quinoa has the most protein of all the grains.
2. It is the only grain that is considered a complete protein.
3. It's relatively easy to cook.
4. It tastes pretty good too.
So the next time I was in that area, I stopped in at the world market. I had been on the hunt, unsuccessfully, for quinoa at my local grocer, but alas, it has not the popularity of say, rice or barley or even couscous. Usually I find the world market a bit overpriced for just about everything, but quinoa priced at about what a bag of long-grian brown rice would.
In the bag, it looks a lot like couscous, small and pellet-shaped, but with an imperfection to its circularity, as though it had been somehow dented and worn by the elements. Once cooked, however, it looks quite different from couscous and oddly, a bit like maltomeal, except that off each single piece of grain, a small tail protrudes like a tiny white worm. They call this "sprouted" quinoa, if I recall correctly.
With this quinoa, plus a little help from my freshly grown eggplant, I would make a fabulous dinner. The entree: eggplant parm, the lazy version, adjusted from a recipe created by Mario Batali. The side dish: quinoa with almonds, hazelnuts, and apricots, brought to you by the French Women Don't Get Fat Cookbook.
The eggplant takes longer to cook than the quinoa, so it gets put in first.
Eggplant Parm (easy version)
What you need:
3 very small, couldn't-wait-any-longer-to-pick-one-from-the garden eggplants
1 half jar of pasta sauce
a few cups of shredded cheese
grated parmesan cheese
Italian-style bread crumbs
1. Preheat oven to 450. Cut the top and bottom off the eggplants and then slice them length-wise into about three or four equal slices.
2. In a small, rectangular casserole dish, arrange the first four slices to fill the bottom of the pan. Layer with half of sauce, then shredded and parmesan cheese to cover. Then add the second layer of eggplant slices. Top with remaining sauce. Then, cheeses to cover, and finally, coat the top in bread crumbs.
3. Cover and bake about 45 minutes.
Thirty minutes into the eggplant baking time, start the quinoa. It takes 15 minutes to cook, with a 1 c. quinoa to 2 c. water ratio.
Quinoa with Almonds, hazelnuts, and apricots
(or if you have no hazelnuts: Quinoa with almonds, more almonds, and apricots)
What you need:
1 c. cooked quinoa
2 T honey
1 T lemon juice
1 t butter
1/3 c. milk
pinch salt
2 T finely chopped almonds (or 1 T almonds and 1 T hazelnuts)
1/4 c. dried apricots, diced
1. Stir honey, lemon juice, butter, milk, and salt into quinoa and cook another minute.
2. Serve in individual bowls garnished with chopped nuts and apricots or, like I did, just stir the nuts and fruit into the pan with all of the quinoa and scoop it onto your plate as needed.
By itself, the quinoa tasted fairly nutty but also very very sweet. I affectionately deemed it "candied grain." Add a slice of almond and some apricot to the bite and it was an explosion of deliciousness that felt more like dessert than a healthy way of getting grain, protein, and fruit simultaneously into my diet. Not that I'm complaining. I do so love my dessert.
Then, add in the tomato-sauce-coated, soft-and-succulent eggplant to the mix. The 45 minutes of mixing flavors with the sauce and the cheese only benefits the eggplant, which has a fall-apart on your fork tenderness that had me unable to wait until it cooled down to a proper temperature before digging in. I think it helped that it was young eggplant rather than the larger, heartier aged eggplant.
A four-star meal, overall. And the tomato paired well with the honey-nut fruity grain beside it. A little bit sweet, a little bit acidic, this meal left me licking my plate clean and then searching for leftovers.
1. Quinoa has the most protein of all the grains.
2. It is the only grain that is considered a complete protein.
3. It's relatively easy to cook.
4. It tastes pretty good too.
So the next time I was in that area, I stopped in at the world market. I had been on the hunt, unsuccessfully, for quinoa at my local grocer, but alas, it has not the popularity of say, rice or barley or even couscous. Usually I find the world market a bit overpriced for just about everything, but quinoa priced at about what a bag of long-grian brown rice would.
In the bag, it looks a lot like couscous, small and pellet-shaped, but with an imperfection to its circularity, as though it had been somehow dented and worn by the elements. Once cooked, however, it looks quite different from couscous and oddly, a bit like maltomeal, except that off each single piece of grain, a small tail protrudes like a tiny white worm. They call this "sprouted" quinoa, if I recall correctly.
With this quinoa, plus a little help from my freshly grown eggplant, I would make a fabulous dinner. The entree: eggplant parm, the lazy version, adjusted from a recipe created by Mario Batali. The side dish: quinoa with almonds, hazelnuts, and apricots, brought to you by the French Women Don't Get Fat Cookbook.The eggplant takes longer to cook than the quinoa, so it gets put in first.
Eggplant Parm (easy version)
What you need:
3 very small, couldn't-wait-any-longer-to-pick-one-from-the garden eggplants
1 half jar of pasta sauce
a few cups of shredded cheese
grated parmesan cheese
Italian-style bread crumbs
1. Preheat oven to 450. Cut the top and bottom off the eggplants and then slice them length-wise into about three or four equal slices.
2. In a small, rectangular casserole dish, arrange the first four slices to fill the bottom of the pan. Layer with half of sauce, then shredded and parmesan cheese to cover. Then add the second layer of eggplant slices. Top with remaining sauce. Then, cheeses to cover, and finally, coat the top in bread crumbs.
3. Cover and bake about 45 minutes.
Thirty minutes into the eggplant baking time, start the quinoa. It takes 15 minutes to cook, with a 1 c. quinoa to 2 c. water ratio.
Quinoa with Almonds, hazelnuts, and apricots
(or if you have no hazelnuts: Quinoa with almonds, more almonds, and apricots)
What you need:
1 c. cooked quinoa
2 T honey
1 T lemon juice
1 t butter
1/3 c. milk
pinch salt
2 T finely chopped almonds (or 1 T almonds and 1 T hazelnuts)
1/4 c. dried apricots, diced
1. Stir honey, lemon juice, butter, milk, and salt into quinoa and cook another minute.
2. Serve in individual bowls garnished with chopped nuts and apricots or, like I did, just stir the nuts and fruit into the pan with all of the quinoa and scoop it onto your plate as needed.
By itself, the quinoa tasted fairly nutty but also very very sweet. I affectionately deemed it "candied grain." Add a slice of almond and some apricot to the bite and it was an explosion of deliciousness that felt more like dessert than a healthy way of getting grain, protein, and fruit simultaneously into my diet. Not that I'm complaining. I do so love my dessert.
A four-star meal, overall. And the tomato paired well with the honey-nut fruity grain beside it. A little bit sweet, a little bit acidic, this meal left me licking my plate clean and then searching for leftovers.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
The Art of the Salad
I'm the first one to admit it. When I see a salad recipe listed in a cook book, I cringe a little. I mean, salads seem like no-brainers. You plop some greens into a bowl. You add veggies, maybe a dressing or vinaigrette, maybe some fruit, and voila: a raw meal in bowl.
Except, most of us never think about what one might put in a salad. As a species, we do not stop to ponder, "what have I never tried diced on top of a pile of lettuce?" Or maybe we do, and my lettuce, tomato, with an option of cucumber is the rarity rather than the norm. But I doubt it.
That's why now, when I happen upon a new and interesting salad topping, I try not to think "why bother with a recipe? It's only a salad." So in honor of the summer heat and the need to reduce the output of more heat from the oven, I give you my salad dinner.
No pictures, unfortunately. It was shy.
Tonight, I ate dinner at a little coffee place frequented by Cleveland State students called Ah Roma. It's worth noting not only for its mean Japanese green tea, but for its insane vegetarian menu, especially given its coffeehouse nature. They have roasted red pepper hummus wraps. It's genius. But today, I did not get a wrap. Today, I counted on an old standby: the veggie salad, with a side of fat free ranch. Ah Roma doesn't play around. When it comes to vegetables, they bring it. I'm talking whole slices of cucumber, two large slices of tomato, a heaping mound of bean sprouts, an abundance of raw mushroom slices, and, of course, the lettuce (usually, there's red onion. I did not get the red onion.)
The first time I got this salad, it was my first semester at Cleveland State, and I was worried I would have to survive on veggie delite subway salads for the duration of the semester. Then, I got the Ah Roma salad, and I was stunned... yes, stunned... I mean, you can put bean sprouts on a salad... really? It's a salad worthy of a recipe. And with a slight heated tang in the ranch, it's a very worthy and palatable dinner, one I can come back to again and again. With a side of tea.
Except, most of us never think about what one might put in a salad. As a species, we do not stop to ponder, "what have I never tried diced on top of a pile of lettuce?" Or maybe we do, and my lettuce, tomato, with an option of cucumber is the rarity rather than the norm. But I doubt it.
That's why now, when I happen upon a new and interesting salad topping, I try not to think "why bother with a recipe? It's only a salad." So in honor of the summer heat and the need to reduce the output of more heat from the oven, I give you my salad dinner.
No pictures, unfortunately. It was shy.
Tonight, I ate dinner at a little coffee place frequented by Cleveland State students called Ah Roma. It's worth noting not only for its mean Japanese green tea, but for its insane vegetarian menu, especially given its coffeehouse nature. They have roasted red pepper hummus wraps. It's genius. But today, I did not get a wrap. Today, I counted on an old standby: the veggie salad, with a side of fat free ranch. Ah Roma doesn't play around. When it comes to vegetables, they bring it. I'm talking whole slices of cucumber, two large slices of tomato, a heaping mound of bean sprouts, an abundance of raw mushroom slices, and, of course, the lettuce (usually, there's red onion. I did not get the red onion.)
The first time I got this salad, it was my first semester at Cleveland State, and I was worried I would have to survive on veggie delite subway salads for the duration of the semester. Then, I got the Ah Roma salad, and I was stunned... yes, stunned... I mean, you can put bean sprouts on a salad... really? It's a salad worthy of a recipe. And with a slight heated tang in the ranch, it's a very worthy and palatable dinner, one I can come back to again and again. With a side of tea.
Monday, July 19, 2010
A gardening start
The first zucchini has arrived.
Green tomato have engulfed the purple cherokee plant.
There are pickle-sized cucumbers and tiny peppers.
The harvesting season has officially begun.
Alas, I have not had much time for gardening or blogging, as last week was the Imagination Writers Conference at Cleveland State. I spent the week running about to various workshops and craft talks, interspersed with some more running about, as I have decided to take a summer adjuncting job. Classes started last week.
To make sure I had food to take with me, I had Art use the first of the zucchini to make a dish we invented last year, upon a plethora of zucchini. What it really is: zucchini and rice. What we call it so that Garet will eat it: Cheesy Rice. What I refer to it when the kid isn't involved: Stuff.
Cheesy Rice Zucchini Stuff
what you need:
three med. zucchini, shredded
two carrots, shredded
one red bell pepper, diced
2 c. of uncooked brown rice (or 4 c. of cooked brown rice)
about 1 c. of random spaghetti sauce (any tomato sauce will work)
1/2 square bakers chocolate
1 small can sliced mushroom
i can black beans (with liquid)
1 small can diced tomato (with liquid)
1 c. shredded cheese
ketchup and BBQ sauce
1. Cook uncooked rice. I use a rice cooker, because it's easy.
2. Put zucchini, carrot, pepper, rice, sauce, chocolate, mushroom, beans, and tomato in a pot on med heat. Add ketchup and BBQ sauce to taste. Cook on med to high heat until liquid is reduced to your liking.
3. Stir in cheese and serve.
We got the idea for this odd concoction, because, given the large zucchini my mom kept giving to us last summer, we wanted to try out stuffed zucchini. But I didn't want to use breadcrumbs, so I used rice instead. And slowly, the ingredients list veered off course from Italian to Mexican. Mostly because black beans are my favorite. And we were in the mood for chili.
The "cheesy rice" turned out quite tasty and I took a large container in to leave in the faculty lounge frig. However, I only ended up eating it one day. I was too busy eating out with my fellow MFA students, sampling a different cuisine each day. But the stuff still came in handy when we drove home to Michigan for the weekend. Mom never keeps vegetarian options in the house, so the rice got eaten up quite quickly.
Green tomato have engulfed the purple cherokee plant.
There are pickle-sized cucumbers and tiny peppers.
The harvesting season has officially begun.
Alas, I have not had much time for gardening or blogging, as last week was the Imagination Writers Conference at Cleveland State. I spent the week running about to various workshops and craft talks, interspersed with some more running about, as I have decided to take a summer adjuncting job. Classes started last week.
To make sure I had food to take with me, I had Art use the first of the zucchini to make a dish we invented last year, upon a plethora of zucchini. What it really is: zucchini and rice. What we call it so that Garet will eat it: Cheesy Rice. What I refer to it when the kid isn't involved: Stuff.
Cheesy Rice Zucchini Stuff
what you need:
three med. zucchini, shredded
two carrots, shredded
one red bell pepper, diced
2 c. of uncooked brown rice (or 4 c. of cooked brown rice)
about 1 c. of random spaghetti sauce (any tomato sauce will work)
1/2 square bakers chocolate
1 small can sliced mushroom
i can black beans (with liquid)
1 small can diced tomato (with liquid)
1 c. shredded cheese
ketchup and BBQ sauce
1. Cook uncooked rice. I use a rice cooker, because it's easy.
2. Put zucchini, carrot, pepper, rice, sauce, chocolate, mushroom, beans, and tomato in a pot on med heat. Add ketchup and BBQ sauce to taste. Cook on med to high heat until liquid is reduced to your liking.
3. Stir in cheese and serve.
We got the idea for this odd concoction, because, given the large zucchini my mom kept giving to us last summer, we wanted to try out stuffed zucchini. But I didn't want to use breadcrumbs, so I used rice instead. And slowly, the ingredients list veered off course from Italian to Mexican. Mostly because black beans are my favorite. And we were in the mood for chili.
The "cheesy rice" turned out quite tasty and I took a large container in to leave in the faculty lounge frig. However, I only ended up eating it one day. I was too busy eating out with my fellow MFA students, sampling a different cuisine each day. But the stuff still came in handy when we drove home to Michigan for the weekend. Mom never keeps vegetarian options in the house, so the rice got eaten up quite quickly.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Blendy Fun
In the heat of this summer, my blender has been getting a lot of use. For starters, rather than hot coffee or tea, I've been alternating between ice water with a mint green tea bag in it and my own recipe for a mocha frappe.
Mocha frappe
(for a nonMocha frappe, I'd imagine you'd just neglect to put in the chocolate)
1/3 c double strength coffee, cold
1 1/2 T raw sugar
1/2 c vanilla soy milk
1 c ice
1T chocolate syrup
Stuff in a blender and hit frappe.
Come to think of it, I could probably figure out a tasty mint green tea frappe if I thought hard enough.
But the frappe was an afterthought really. Because recently, the blender has already been dirty, as I have given my first "French Women Don't Get Fat" recipe, Magical Breakfast Cream, or MBC. If you'd like to try MBC. It's a mixture of plain yogurt, ground cereal, and nuts, among other things. The problem I rediscovered while making MBC: I really don't like dairy in its pure form. I've never liked plain milk and I'm not a big fan of sour cream. Moreover, I hate the taste of plain yogurt. It's so... dairy tasting. This was a taste that MBC failed to mask, so, as I'm often prone to doing, rather than can the recipe as a waste, I Kate-ified it.
And what resulted, while being very close to the original recipe, switches out citrus for strawberry, making it a tasty strawberries and cream concoction I can get behind. Moreover, with the almonds and oats added to the mix, the resulting taste has a touch of what I can only describe as "Almond Cookie" or "Bearclaw" tasting. And if there's one desert I love as much as strawberry shortcake, it's almond-anything.
Almond-Cookie Strawberry Breakfast Smoothie
2T oats
2 t sliced raw almonds
1/2 c. plain greek yogurt
1 t flaxseed oil
2 T Berry-variety 100% juice (I had Pomegranate-Blueberry V8 fusion on hand)
1 t 100% maple syrup
1 t honey
4 frozen strawberries (if using fresh, add ice)
1. Put oats and almonds in blender. Grind to powder.
2. Add yogurt, juice, syrup, honey, and strawberries. Puree.
3. Drink and be amazed at the undercurrents of cookie pleasure... without the cookie. Not only that but it's really healthy.
Mocha frappe
(for a nonMocha frappe, I'd imagine you'd just neglect to put in the chocolate)
1/3 c double strength coffee, cold
1 1/2 T raw sugar
1/2 c vanilla soy milk
1 c ice
1T chocolate syrup
Stuff in a blender and hit frappe.
Come to think of it, I could probably figure out a tasty mint green tea frappe if I thought hard enough.
But the frappe was an afterthought really. Because recently, the blender has already been dirty, as I have given my first "French Women Don't Get Fat" recipe, Magical Breakfast Cream, or MBC. If you'd like to try MBC. It's a mixture of plain yogurt, ground cereal, and nuts, among other things. The problem I rediscovered while making MBC: I really don't like dairy in its pure form. I've never liked plain milk and I'm not a big fan of sour cream. Moreover, I hate the taste of plain yogurt. It's so... dairy tasting. This was a taste that MBC failed to mask, so, as I'm often prone to doing, rather than can the recipe as a waste, I Kate-ified it.
And what resulted, while being very close to the original recipe, switches out citrus for strawberry, making it a tasty strawberries and cream concoction I can get behind. Moreover, with the almonds and oats added to the mix, the resulting taste has a touch of what I can only describe as "Almond Cookie" or "Bearclaw" tasting. And if there's one desert I love as much as strawberry shortcake, it's almond-anything.
Almond-Cookie Strawberry Breakfast Smoothie
2T oats
2 t sliced raw almonds
1/2 c. plain greek yogurt
1 t flaxseed oil
2 T Berry-variety 100% juice (I had Pomegranate-Blueberry V8 fusion on hand)
1 t 100% maple syrup
1 t honey
4 frozen strawberries (if using fresh, add ice)
1. Put oats and almonds in blender. Grind to powder.
2. Add yogurt, juice, syrup, honey, and strawberries. Puree.
3. Drink and be amazed at the undercurrents of cookie pleasure... without the cookie. Not only that but it's really healthy.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The Carb Confusion
So I get the Atkins craze. I get why this idea appeals to people; however, I don't think this type of mentality is the sort of diet guidance our populace needs. I was reading a blog recently at the Slow Cook. Essentially, it was not wrong. America binge-eats on comfort food. We have this collective belief that food tastes better if only you put it between two pieces of bread. Moreover, rather than eating healthy whole-grains in our bread and pastas, we opt for white. Because, as I've mentioned in a previous blog, foods that are white are comforting in and of themselves, even if all the nutritional value has been bleached out of that food to make it white.
The article in question calls for America to put down the hamburger bun, and this is probably a good idea. That hamburger bun is assuredly made from bleached flour and is far more bread than a hamburger needs anyway (why do buns have to be so... thick?). However, then it extends to all carbs, and I think this is the sort of eat-something-to-the-exclusion-of-all-others-attitude that has obesity on the rise. The reality is: the human body needs all sorts of nutrients from all different places. It's not enough to eat meat, our body needs carbs. Carbs = energy. It's not enough to eat green vegetables; you need the red ones too. And the purple ones. And the yellow ones. Nothing should be consumed to the exclusion of all others. What does need to happen is a better version of eating. Do eat less high fructose. Do eat more whole grains, and if you can afford it, some good, free-range meats. This vegetarian can't, but all power to you if you can eat meat and eat it from a healthy, happy cow/pig/chicken/etc.
But we need a lot less meat than American culture seems to believe we need. Meat used to be a luxury. Good meat still is. Whole grains, however, are a healthy way of getting high-quality energy, and there's not a person on the planet that doesn't need energy. The key is to not overeat, and to eat the best quality of ingredients that you can. As for me, I'd take the bun over the burger any day, as long as the bun is whole wheat, perhaps with some flax seed for good measure.
The article in question calls for America to put down the hamburger bun, and this is probably a good idea. That hamburger bun is assuredly made from bleached flour and is far more bread than a hamburger needs anyway (why do buns have to be so... thick?). However, then it extends to all carbs, and I think this is the sort of eat-something-to-the-exclusion-of-all-others-attitude that has obesity on the rise. The reality is: the human body needs all sorts of nutrients from all different places. It's not enough to eat meat, our body needs carbs. Carbs = energy. It's not enough to eat green vegetables; you need the red ones too. And the purple ones. And the yellow ones. Nothing should be consumed to the exclusion of all others. What does need to happen is a better version of eating. Do eat less high fructose. Do eat more whole grains, and if you can afford it, some good, free-range meats. This vegetarian can't, but all power to you if you can eat meat and eat it from a healthy, happy cow/pig/chicken/etc.
But we need a lot less meat than American culture seems to believe we need. Meat used to be a luxury. Good meat still is. Whole grains, however, are a healthy way of getting high-quality energy, and there's not a person on the planet that doesn't need energy. The key is to not overeat, and to eat the best quality of ingredients that you can. As for me, I'd take the bun over the burger any day, as long as the bun is whole wheat, perhaps with some flax seed for good measure.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Minestrone
I have my first full blown zucchini blossoms at the garden and a number of small green tomatoes. While visiting the community garden where our small plot is located, we happened upon a woman with a hose who announced that when she comes to take care of her garden, she waters all of the gardens and this usually happens every other day. Now, on the one hand, it's very nice of her to do this. On the other, I feel a bit put off by it. I mean, this is my garden and I'm not sure I appreciate her 1. Infringing on the gardens of others. and 2. Not finding a way to announce her helpfulness to the rest of us, who have been watering our gardens on top of her every other day waterings. I'm curious, is this a valid upset to have? I couldn't decide if it would be rude and ungrateful to ask her not to water my garden, but at the same time, this is my garden. Thoughts?
Either way, the time of harvest draws near. But as I continue to wait, here is the first of many recipes to come featuring zucchini. I made Minestrone on thursday night and have been eating its leftovers ever since. I can't remember where I found this recipe now but it has its flaws and each time I make it, I have to find ways of correcting, however, it makes a very flavorful Minestrone, albeit more of a stew than soup when all's said and done, but then, my man isn't a soup fan anyway.
Minestrone
4 c. veggie broth
4 c. tomato, diced
1 T basil
1/2 t oregano
2 carrots, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
1/2 onion, chopped
3 small zucchini, chopped
1 c green beans, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 bay leaf
salt and pepper to taste
1 c macaroni (or other small pasta)
2 potatoes, diced
1 small can cannellini beans
1 small can kidney beans
1. Cook pasta as directed, drain and set aside. In an advanced effort to get my six-year-old to eat the Minestrone, I allowed him to pick any noodle he wanted in the Italian aisle at Giant Eagle. He opted for wagon wheels.
2. In large pot, combine all ingredients except pasta. Bring to boil and boil about half an hour, covered. Reduce to low and simmer for at least one hour, or until veggies are tender. This is one of the fixes I make to this recipe which only simmers the soup and at the end, none of the veggies are cooked all the way unless you leave it on the stove all day long. Instead, I had the half hour or so boil. Due to this, if the liquid gets too low, add water to the pot to fit your desired level of soupiness. I usually don't add much and let it be more of a stew.
3. Add pasta and bring back to a simmer. Cook for about 20 minutes to give pasta time to develop to flavors of the pot. Fish out the bay leaf and serve, sprinkled with grated cheese if you wish. I often do.
I'll continue to search for the perfect Minestrone recipe that is also uncomplicated, but until I find it, this one is pretty tasty and best of all, quick. Plus, during a hot summer week like this, it's nice to have a meal made before the heat wave that leaves behind enough leftovers to last through several nights of microwave reheating. The less added heat in this unair-conditioned apartment, the better.
Either way, the time of harvest draws near. But as I continue to wait, here is the first of many recipes to come featuring zucchini. I made Minestrone on thursday night and have been eating its leftovers ever since. I can't remember where I found this recipe now but it has its flaws and each time I make it, I have to find ways of correcting, however, it makes a very flavorful Minestrone, albeit more of a stew than soup when all's said and done, but then, my man isn't a soup fan anyway.
Minestrone
4 c. veggie broth
4 c. tomato, diced
1 T basil
1/2 t oregano
2 carrots, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
1/2 onion, chopped
3 small zucchini, chopped
1 c green beans, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 bay leaf
salt and pepper to taste
1 c macaroni (or other small pasta)
2 potatoes, diced
1 small can cannellini beans
1 small can kidney beans
1. Cook pasta as directed, drain and set aside. In an advanced effort to get my six-year-old to eat the Minestrone, I allowed him to pick any noodle he wanted in the Italian aisle at Giant Eagle. He opted for wagon wheels.
2. In large pot, combine all ingredients except pasta. Bring to boil and boil about half an hour, covered. Reduce to low and simmer for at least one hour, or until veggies are tender. This is one of the fixes I make to this recipe which only simmers the soup and at the end, none of the veggies are cooked all the way unless you leave it on the stove all day long. Instead, I had the half hour or so boil. Due to this, if the liquid gets too low, add water to the pot to fit your desired level of soupiness. I usually don't add much and let it be more of a stew.
3. Add pasta and bring back to a simmer. Cook for about 20 minutes to give pasta time to develop to flavors of the pot. Fish out the bay leaf and serve, sprinkled with grated cheese if you wish. I often do.
I'll continue to search for the perfect Minestrone recipe that is also uncomplicated, but until I find it, this one is pretty tasty and best of all, quick. Plus, during a hot summer week like this, it's nice to have a meal made before the heat wave that leaves behind enough leftovers to last through several nights of microwave reheating. The less added heat in this unair-conditioned apartment, the better.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Broccoli Review
For the summer months in my apartment, we have given Wednesday nights to my six-year-old. (I'm sorry, six AND A HALF year old.) He too was raised the chicken and potato way via my mother. You see, for the second three years of his life (and probably the most impressionable food-wise), we lived with my mother. I was divorced from the evil ex husband and going to graduate school and my parental units were kind enough to grant me two rooms in their household whilst I bettered my mind via Literature MA.
The downside to this: he ate the same foods I grew up on. Usually, my classes forced me to eat a separate meal from the family and Garet ate with everyone else. So I had falafel at Phoenicas (Greek food on campus) and he ate mashed potatoes and ham. Or mashed potatoes and chicken. Or french fries and chicken strips. For the past year, I have been trying to broaden his culinary horizons, but on Wednesdays, he gets a break and usually picks hot dogs and boxed mac n cheese. Of course, this leaves little for the vegetarian to eat, so the vegetarian makes her own side-dish for the family that also acts as her main course. In this case, I made baked broccoli with a side of sauted mushroom for protein.
I got the recipe here at the Amateur Gourmet blog, who, in turn, got the recipe from the Barefoot Contessa.It's broccoli, parmesan, salt, basil, and lots of olive oil baked on a cookie sheet for about 20 minutes. I've taken to following the Amateur Gourmet blog only recently, but I have fun with his voice and honesty (read his latest on one cup coffee makers). Plus, I'm an avid broccoli fan and when I read about his recipe, I had to try it.
My first mistake was probably not measuring out the broccoli. I just cut up what I had and tossed it on the cookie sheet. I thought it seemed like less than the amount called for so I eye-balled the ingredients, lessening each by a bit, but I don't think it was enough.
Don't get me wrong. The broccoli was tasty. Art loved it and Garet would have if he had been willing to try it. But I found it personally a bit overpowering and salty. Something to bear in mind for future use, but overall, if you are less of a broccoli fan but want to incorporate more into your diet, the Amateur Gourmet won't steer you wrong on this one.
The downside to this: he ate the same foods I grew up on. Usually, my classes forced me to eat a separate meal from the family and Garet ate with everyone else. So I had falafel at Phoenicas (Greek food on campus) and he ate mashed potatoes and ham. Or mashed potatoes and chicken. Or french fries and chicken strips. For the past year, I have been trying to broaden his culinary horizons, but on Wednesdays, he gets a break and usually picks hot dogs and boxed mac n cheese. Of course, this leaves little for the vegetarian to eat, so the vegetarian makes her own side-dish for the family that also acts as her main course. In this case, I made baked broccoli with a side of sauted mushroom for protein.
I got the recipe here at the Amateur Gourmet blog, who, in turn, got the recipe from the Barefoot Contessa.It's broccoli, parmesan, salt, basil, and lots of olive oil baked on a cookie sheet for about 20 minutes. I've taken to following the Amateur Gourmet blog only recently, but I have fun with his voice and honesty (read his latest on one cup coffee makers). Plus, I'm an avid broccoli fan and when I read about his recipe, I had to try it.
My first mistake was probably not measuring out the broccoli. I just cut up what I had and tossed it on the cookie sheet. I thought it seemed like less than the amount called for so I eye-balled the ingredients, lessening each by a bit, but I don't think it was enough.
Don't get me wrong. The broccoli was tasty. Art loved it and Garet would have if he had been willing to try it. But I found it personally a bit overpowering and salty. Something to bear in mind for future use, but overall, if you are less of a broccoli fan but want to incorporate more into your diet, the Amateur Gourmet won't steer you wrong on this one.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Small Indulgences
This vegetarian has a sweet tooth. And despite her lack of cavities, it is a very big sweet tooth. So, in order for her to have any lasting happiness, it must be sated. If it is not, the result is a very frantic me in search of any sort of sugary something to stuff down my gullet. Hostess, fruit snacks, cakes, cookies... nothing escapes my ravenous wrath. So, I go for moderation.
Yesterday, I found a cookbook in the new section of the library: "The French Women Don't Get Fat Cookbook." In this book, the madame authoress, though not condemning dessert, urged her reader (aka, me) that sometimes a good fruit should do for dessert, but that has never been the case for me. I love fruit, and it can be a meal all its own, but on its own, it can never be dessert. What can be dessert on its own is chocolate.
So here are a few recent chocolate finds to share with my as-yet lackluster readership. First and foremost is a read-worthy book I found in the clearance bin at Borders, "The Chocolate Connoissear," that really opened my eyes to the worth-while nature of a good chocolate. The authoress is a top expert on chocolate and she made the experience of eating good chocolate akin to a wine tasting. I decided I had to find some of what she would deem at least suitable chocolate to try out and see what the fuss was all about (I say suitable because good chocolate is expensive and I'm on a budget.) Well, that sort of chocolate is not easy to find. I'm not even talking Godiva or Lindt good. They don't make the cut.
To sum up a book's worth, there are three varieties of cocoa trees. The bottom rung, most hardy and least flavorful, is called forastero. That's what all the chocolate the average person eats, candy made from big batches of over-cooked and under-produced beans. That's why 90% Lindt has such a burnt after taste. It's made from burnt beans. The best tree is the criollo. This is the ancestor breed that was around back in the days of yore when Aztecs introduced the stuff to Spain. It is very flavorful but also fragile and for a very long time, was on the brink of extinction. The third variety is trinitario. This is a happy medium species that has a decent flavor and decent hardiness and is a splice created from mating criollo with the hardier forastero. "Good chocolate" bars will have perhaps a percentage on the front, but more importantly, the beans used to make the chocolate and a country or even plantation of origin, as well as tasting notes, as one would find on a wine bottle. You see, good chocolate has a unique flavor to it, unlike the sameness of your everyday Hersey bar.
I searched and searched for my illusive chocolate. And finally, I found some in Meijer of all places, in the greeting card section by the Whitman samplers. The brand is Cachet limited edition and the bars are around $3 a pop. As a dark chocolate fan, I scored the 71% Costa Rica Bar, made with trinitario, if I recall, and the 64% Peru bar, made with criollo and trinitario. My boyfriend, a milk chocolate fan, scored the 32% Madagascar bar made with criollo, trinitario, and forastero. The tasting couldn't have been more of a shock to me. The dark chocolate was so smooth, it had all the toothiness of a milk chocolate but the glorious taste of a dark. The milk chocolate was the milkiest chocolate I've ever tasted. It had the bitter taint of cocoa but over that was a sweet, sugary but very cream-filled milk chocolate taste that bordered on buttery with a clear hint of vanilla as an aftertaste. The tasting notes on the back of the bar, which I checked after tasting, were spot on. The Peru bar was surprisingly light for a dark chocolate, with a berry-ish hint to it and shock of shocks, no burnt aftertaste, just the delicate bitterness of cocoa.
The Costa Rica bar was very earthy tasting, definitely lacking some of the lightness of the Peru bar. When the choco-expert explained of mushroom tasting notes for chocolate, I didn't understand what that might possibly mean until I savored this bar. It was a hint of mushroom in the best way possible. I even took my 71% find, along with a dark Godiva bar, to my cousin, dear friend, and long-time Godiva fiend, Kristin, who tasted a square of each and announced herself a convert. An extra dark chocolate without the burnt aftertaste? Well worth the extra buck-fifty.
My other recent chocolate find is not a new one. Way back when I first discovered "Skinny Bitch," I made myself their recipe for hot chocolate. It turned out a bit too bitter with clumps of the cocoa powder all over. Less-than-fantastic. Tonight, I was in the mood for a little treat but a warm one, as there's been this oddly cold breeze all day that's put a chill in me I haven't been able to lose. I opened my recipe box and found the old Skinny Bitch cocoa recipe, decided to give it one last go. As you may recall, Art made me a from-scratch extra-dark chocolate cake for my birthday, so the only unsweetened cocoa powder in the apartment is Hersey's special dark, and the idea of special dark cocoa appealed to my inner dark chocolate fan. So I got out a small saucepan and got to work.
Hot Cocoa the Skinny Bitch Way (The Kate Version)
3/4 c. soy milk
1/4 c. water
2 T unsweetened cocoa
2 T sugar in the raw
1/8 t. vanilla extract
dash of cinnamon
Heat soymilk and water in saucepan. Add cocoa, sugar, and vanilla to pan. Stir until smooth. Transfer to cocoa mug. Sprinkle cinnamon and drink.
The dark dark cocoa was delightful. The powder dissolved just fine, making me wonder what I screwed up before. It was bitter but also very sweet with that hint of cinnamon that just made all the other flavors pop that much more. If I had a bad thing to say about the recipe now, it used too much sugar. Next time, I'll try half the sugar and add to taste. I drank half slowly and soothingly at the dinner table. Then, I reserved the other half for tomorrow. With it's oversweetness, I think it would be the perfect addition to a nice dark roast coffee for a morning pick-me-up.
On a related note, my favorite and only nephew turned one yesterday. His birthday party was on Saturday, though, a pool party with buffet. I brought the veggie platter and the dirt. Dirt was always one of my childhood favorites and to this day, is one of the most pleasurable of dessert comfort foods. Growing up, my Aunt Sharon always brought dirt to the family functions, and we kids gobbled it up. At one point, her and her daughter even invited me and my sister over to learn the much-guarded secret recipe. Her dirt recipe is still the one I use today. It is far superior to any other recipe I've found, but it's also something I don't have the right to broadcast to the internet. Here is an internet recipe for dirt I'm sure is very tasty, however, if you're curious to try it. Of course, I don't use the fake flowers or flower pot, though that is a cute idea, and I freeze mine, not refrigerate it. Other people add gummy worms to the top. Dirt, essentially is a frozen pudding cake with crushed oreos that resembles dirt. Other ideas include using peanut butter pudding and chocolate/pb cookies for mud and butterscotch pudding with pecan sandies for sand.
The dirt, as always, was a big hit, but I had my own little secret ingredients I added to Aunt Sharon's version. My sister had recently been battling high cholesterol, and, so she could partake of the dirt and so it would be a little better in general (dirt is not a health food), I used the fat-free/light versions of all the ingredients: reduced fat oreos, light butter, fat free cool whip, fat free cream cheese, etc. I did not use sugar free pudding, as sugar free pudding has a decidedly different taste to it from normal. That and really, those no-cal sweeteners are probably worse for you than normal sugar, unless you are diabetic. Everyone had a little bit, so no one had too much and no one noticed that the dirt was "lighter" than usual. Tips to know and tell.
Yesterday, I found a cookbook in the new section of the library: "The French Women Don't Get Fat Cookbook." In this book, the madame authoress, though not condemning dessert, urged her reader (aka, me) that sometimes a good fruit should do for dessert, but that has never been the case for me. I love fruit, and it can be a meal all its own, but on its own, it can never be dessert. What can be dessert on its own is chocolate.
So here are a few recent chocolate finds to share with my as-yet lackluster readership. First and foremost is a read-worthy book I found in the clearance bin at Borders, "The Chocolate Connoissear," that really opened my eyes to the worth-while nature of a good chocolate. The authoress is a top expert on chocolate and she made the experience of eating good chocolate akin to a wine tasting. I decided I had to find some of what she would deem at least suitable chocolate to try out and see what the fuss was all about (I say suitable because good chocolate is expensive and I'm on a budget.) Well, that sort of chocolate is not easy to find. I'm not even talking Godiva or Lindt good. They don't make the cut.
To sum up a book's worth, there are three varieties of cocoa trees. The bottom rung, most hardy and least flavorful, is called forastero. That's what all the chocolate the average person eats, candy made from big batches of over-cooked and under-produced beans. That's why 90% Lindt has such a burnt after taste. It's made from burnt beans. The best tree is the criollo. This is the ancestor breed that was around back in the days of yore when Aztecs introduced the stuff to Spain. It is very flavorful but also fragile and for a very long time, was on the brink of extinction. The third variety is trinitario. This is a happy medium species that has a decent flavor and decent hardiness and is a splice created from mating criollo with the hardier forastero. "Good chocolate" bars will have perhaps a percentage on the front, but more importantly, the beans used to make the chocolate and a country or even plantation of origin, as well as tasting notes, as one would find on a wine bottle. You see, good chocolate has a unique flavor to it, unlike the sameness of your everyday Hersey bar.
I searched and searched for my illusive chocolate. And finally, I found some in Meijer of all places, in the greeting card section by the Whitman samplers. The brand is Cachet limited edition and the bars are around $3 a pop. As a dark chocolate fan, I scored the 71% Costa Rica Bar, made with trinitario, if I recall, and the 64% Peru bar, made with criollo and trinitario. My boyfriend, a milk chocolate fan, scored the 32% Madagascar bar made with criollo, trinitario, and forastero. The tasting couldn't have been more of a shock to me. The dark chocolate was so smooth, it had all the toothiness of a milk chocolate but the glorious taste of a dark. The milk chocolate was the milkiest chocolate I've ever tasted. It had the bitter taint of cocoa but over that was a sweet, sugary but very cream-filled milk chocolate taste that bordered on buttery with a clear hint of vanilla as an aftertaste. The tasting notes on the back of the bar, which I checked after tasting, were spot on. The Peru bar was surprisingly light for a dark chocolate, with a berry-ish hint to it and shock of shocks, no burnt aftertaste, just the delicate bitterness of cocoa.
The Costa Rica bar was very earthy tasting, definitely lacking some of the lightness of the Peru bar. When the choco-expert explained of mushroom tasting notes for chocolate, I didn't understand what that might possibly mean until I savored this bar. It was a hint of mushroom in the best way possible. I even took my 71% find, along with a dark Godiva bar, to my cousin, dear friend, and long-time Godiva fiend, Kristin, who tasted a square of each and announced herself a convert. An extra dark chocolate without the burnt aftertaste? Well worth the extra buck-fifty.
My other recent chocolate find is not a new one. Way back when I first discovered "Skinny Bitch," I made myself their recipe for hot chocolate. It turned out a bit too bitter with clumps of the cocoa powder all over. Less-than-fantastic. Tonight, I was in the mood for a little treat but a warm one, as there's been this oddly cold breeze all day that's put a chill in me I haven't been able to lose. I opened my recipe box and found the old Skinny Bitch cocoa recipe, decided to give it one last go. As you may recall, Art made me a from-scratch extra-dark chocolate cake for my birthday, so the only unsweetened cocoa powder in the apartment is Hersey's special dark, and the idea of special dark cocoa appealed to my inner dark chocolate fan. So I got out a small saucepan and got to work.
Hot Cocoa the Skinny Bitch Way (The Kate Version)
3/4 c. soy milk
1/4 c. water
2 T unsweetened cocoa
2 T sugar in the raw
1/8 t. vanilla extract
dash of cinnamon
Heat soymilk and water in saucepan. Add cocoa, sugar, and vanilla to pan. Stir until smooth. Transfer to cocoa mug. Sprinkle cinnamon and drink.
The dark dark cocoa was delightful. The powder dissolved just fine, making me wonder what I screwed up before. It was bitter but also very sweet with that hint of cinnamon that just made all the other flavors pop that much more. If I had a bad thing to say about the recipe now, it used too much sugar. Next time, I'll try half the sugar and add to taste. I drank half slowly and soothingly at the dinner table. Then, I reserved the other half for tomorrow. With it's oversweetness, I think it would be the perfect addition to a nice dark roast coffee for a morning pick-me-up.
On a related note, my favorite and only nephew turned one yesterday. His birthday party was on Saturday, though, a pool party with buffet. I brought the veggie platter and the dirt. Dirt was always one of my childhood favorites and to this day, is one of the most pleasurable of dessert comfort foods. Growing up, my Aunt Sharon always brought dirt to the family functions, and we kids gobbled it up. At one point, her and her daughter even invited me and my sister over to learn the much-guarded secret recipe. Her dirt recipe is still the one I use today. It is far superior to any other recipe I've found, but it's also something I don't have the right to broadcast to the internet. Here is an internet recipe for dirt I'm sure is very tasty, however, if you're curious to try it. Of course, I don't use the fake flowers or flower pot, though that is a cute idea, and I freeze mine, not refrigerate it. Other people add gummy worms to the top. Dirt, essentially is a frozen pudding cake with crushed oreos that resembles dirt. Other ideas include using peanut butter pudding and chocolate/pb cookies for mud and butterscotch pudding with pecan sandies for sand.
The dirt, as always, was a big hit, but I had my own little secret ingredients I added to Aunt Sharon's version. My sister had recently been battling high cholesterol, and, so she could partake of the dirt and so it would be a little better in general (dirt is not a health food), I used the fat-free/light versions of all the ingredients: reduced fat oreos, light butter, fat free cool whip, fat free cream cheese, etc. I did not use sugar free pudding, as sugar free pudding has a decidedly different taste to it from normal. That and really, those no-cal sweeteners are probably worse for you than normal sugar, unless you are diabetic. Everyone had a little bit, so no one had too much and no one noticed that the dirt was "lighter" than usual. Tips to know and tell.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Green Bean/White Bean Casserole
During the fall semester, I uncovered an interesting book from my local library. It's called "Vegetarian SlowCooker." And in it were a great number of magical recipes to use in that kitchen appliance that I, of late, have little to no use for. Needless to say, some of them looked so yummy, it prompted me to plop one of the black friday sale price 20 dollar slow cookers into my mother's Kohl's stroller-cart and say, "I want this for Christmas!"
Then, as is wont to happen in stories of this nature, I took my new kitchen appliance home, stuck it happily into an empty cupboard, and forgot about it. When the book came up for renewal for the fifth time, I copied those recipes I'd been eyeing onto 3x5 index cards, stuck them into my recipe card organizer, and returned the book.
This would have been the end of it had I not gone through my recipes two days before my birthday, struggling to find something tasty and adventurous to make for my year-over-a-quarter-of-a-century birthday. I opted, as some might recall, on a Cook's encyclopedia recipe for souffle, but among my forgotten trove of recipes, my eye caught a black bean chili, a soup with kale, slow cooker veggie pot pie, and the most exciting of all... green bean casserole!
I know what you're thinking... "That's it? That's the thing she was so excited to make?" But green bean casserole is one of my favorites. It's comfort food. It's homey and inviting. It was one of the first things I ever learned to make. And I never screwed it up. One can campbell's cream of mushroom to two cans french-cut green beans in a casserole dish and then heated in the microwave for 7 minutes and TA DA! a scrumptious meal. And it sure beat my first attempt at tuna and noodles, when, after many boxed pasta roni meals, it didn't occur to me that I might need to drain the noodles and it didn't occur to my mom, when she gave me the instructions for making it, that anyone would not know that noodles need to be drained. What resulted looked more like soup than casserole but green beans, they have never led me astray.
I've come a long way since then, but I still love my green bean casserole. And I was immediate anxious to give this recipe a go (not to mention break in that forgotten slow cooker), a green bean casserole that uses a white bean and mushroom sauce in place of the standard can of cream of mushroom.
Green Bean and White Bean Casserole
(from Vegetarian Slow Cooker)
What you need:
1 T olive oil
1 small yellow onion, chopped
1 c. chopped white mushrooms
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 15.5 oz can white beans, drained and rinsed (These puppies were not easy to come by but I finally found some Goya brand ones. Post-cooking thought: Great Northern Beans would work just as well... many even navy beans)
1 c water
salt and pepper (be generous with the salt)
1 1/2 lbs green beans, cut into one-in pieces (I translated this into 2 cans of no-sodium french cut green beans, drained)
1/2 c sliced almonds, toasted in skillet to light golden
1. Heat oil in large skillet over med-heat, add onion, cover, and cook to soft, 5 min. Transfer onion to blender. In skillet, add mushroom and garlic. stir to soft over med-high heat, 3 minutes. The stirring is very important, and if you get bored, use a long wooden spoon with which to bang about to skillet as you stir, creating a tune akin in sound to a steel drum player. Entertainment. Set aside mushrooms.)
2. Add white beans and water to blender, season with salt and pepper, and process to smooth. I used the "cream" button. It seemed very cream of mushroom soup to use the "cream" button. The blender will whir and spin and in seconds, sauce, liquid-y and looking very much like the tahini sauce I made on Monday for falafel. But I digress.
3. Place green beans and mushrooms in 4 QT (bigger is fine, just not smaller) slow cooker and pour white bean sauce over them. Cover and cook on Low 4-6 hours.
4. When ready to serve, sprinkle beans with almonds.
It was a surprisingly quick-prep and easy to follow, but a little bland (hence liberal salt and pepper). I think next time, I would cook up twice the number of mushrooms and puree half of them with the white beans, for a bit more flavor. I'm also going to think for a while on what seasonings would mix well with the beans. Suggestions would be appreciated. It was something I'd make again but with a few alterations, my own bit of flare. The almonds, I'd say, are a must, however. They add a nice nutty flavor to add a bit of pep to the blandness, along with a bit of crunch to the mush that is green bean casserole.
Note: Despite my recent addition of pictures to accompany blog posts, this one is lacking a picture. This is not due to technical malfunction, but merely a realization on the blogger's part that there is no way to attractively photograph green bean casserole. Just picture any green bean casserole and top it with sliced almonds in your mind's eye. Now, put it in a slow cooker. That's about it.
Then, as is wont to happen in stories of this nature, I took my new kitchen appliance home, stuck it happily into an empty cupboard, and forgot about it. When the book came up for renewal for the fifth time, I copied those recipes I'd been eyeing onto 3x5 index cards, stuck them into my recipe card organizer, and returned the book.
This would have been the end of it had I not gone through my recipes two days before my birthday, struggling to find something tasty and adventurous to make for my year-over-a-quarter-of-a-century birthday. I opted, as some might recall, on a Cook's encyclopedia recipe for souffle, but among my forgotten trove of recipes, my eye caught a black bean chili, a soup with kale, slow cooker veggie pot pie, and the most exciting of all... green bean casserole!
I know what you're thinking... "That's it? That's the thing she was so excited to make?" But green bean casserole is one of my favorites. It's comfort food. It's homey and inviting. It was one of the first things I ever learned to make. And I never screwed it up. One can campbell's cream of mushroom to two cans french-cut green beans in a casserole dish and then heated in the microwave for 7 minutes and TA DA! a scrumptious meal. And it sure beat my first attempt at tuna and noodles, when, after many boxed pasta roni meals, it didn't occur to me that I might need to drain the noodles and it didn't occur to my mom, when she gave me the instructions for making it, that anyone would not know that noodles need to be drained. What resulted looked more like soup than casserole but green beans, they have never led me astray.
I've come a long way since then, but I still love my green bean casserole. And I was immediate anxious to give this recipe a go (not to mention break in that forgotten slow cooker), a green bean casserole that uses a white bean and mushroom sauce in place of the standard can of cream of mushroom.
Green Bean and White Bean Casserole
(from Vegetarian Slow Cooker)
What you need:
1 T olive oil
1 small yellow onion, chopped
1 c. chopped white mushrooms
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 15.5 oz can white beans, drained and rinsed (These puppies were not easy to come by but I finally found some Goya brand ones. Post-cooking thought: Great Northern Beans would work just as well... many even navy beans)
1 c water
salt and pepper (be generous with the salt)
1 1/2 lbs green beans, cut into one-in pieces (I translated this into 2 cans of no-sodium french cut green beans, drained)
1/2 c sliced almonds, toasted in skillet to light golden
1. Heat oil in large skillet over med-heat, add onion, cover, and cook to soft, 5 min. Transfer onion to blender. In skillet, add mushroom and garlic. stir to soft over med-high heat, 3 minutes. The stirring is very important, and if you get bored, use a long wooden spoon with which to bang about to skillet as you stir, creating a tune akin in sound to a steel drum player. Entertainment. Set aside mushrooms.)
2. Add white beans and water to blender, season with salt and pepper, and process to smooth. I used the "cream" button. It seemed very cream of mushroom soup to use the "cream" button. The blender will whir and spin and in seconds, sauce, liquid-y and looking very much like the tahini sauce I made on Monday for falafel. But I digress.
3. Place green beans and mushrooms in 4 QT (bigger is fine, just not smaller) slow cooker and pour white bean sauce over them. Cover and cook on Low 4-6 hours.
4. When ready to serve, sprinkle beans with almonds.
It was a surprisingly quick-prep and easy to follow, but a little bland (hence liberal salt and pepper). I think next time, I would cook up twice the number of mushrooms and puree half of them with the white beans, for a bit more flavor. I'm also going to think for a while on what seasonings would mix well with the beans. Suggestions would be appreciated. It was something I'd make again but with a few alterations, my own bit of flare. The almonds, I'd say, are a must, however. They add a nice nutty flavor to add a bit of pep to the blandness, along with a bit of crunch to the mush that is green bean casserole.
Note: Despite my recent addition of pictures to accompany blog posts, this one is lacking a picture. This is not due to technical malfunction, but merely a realization on the blogger's part that there is no way to attractively photograph green bean casserole. Just picture any green bean casserole and top it with sliced almonds in your mind's eye. Now, put it in a slow cooker. That's about it.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Veggie Fajita: home version
Remember those veggie fajitas I enjoyed at the little Mexican place on Van Aken? Well, much like my eggplant fritter sandwich a la Italian place on Chagrin, I have managed to successfully recreate those fajitas at home for much much cheaper.
My little boy is a quarter Mexican and he's got this thing now where he is willing to try anything as long as it's Mexican. So I've intelligently named this recipe:
Mexican Stir Fry
What you need:
1 mid-sized zucchini, sliced
1 vine-ripened tomato, diced
1/2 med-sized green bell pepper, sliced and quartered
1/2 large red bell pepper, sliced and quartered
8 oz. sliced mushrooms (white button or baby bella)
oil for frying (about 1 T or a good coat of spray)
half a packet of fajita seasoning
1 cup of brown rice
tomato sauce (sadly, I used taco sauce)
1 c. shredded mexican style cheese (in lieu of this: just go with cheddar)
Optional: Fajita-style tortillas and refried beans
1.Cook rice. I used a rice cooker.
2. In a large skillet preheated and oiled, toss in the mushrooms, peppers, zucchini, and fajita seasoning in and cook on high heat until veggies are tender and mushrooms are carmelized.
3. Transfer skillet contents into a bowl. Transfer rice to skillet and add tomato sauce until rice is sufficiently coated to your liking. Cook at med-heat until rice is hot. Add cheese and stir.
4. Assemble veggies into fajita tortillas with light coat of refried beans or by itself on plate. Plate rice on the side or mix with stir fry.
It was surprisingly delicious, despite being a complete experiment. Next time, I would use something other than taco sauce though.
My little boy is a quarter Mexican and he's got this thing now where he is willing to try anything as long as it's Mexican. So I've intelligently named this recipe:
Mexican Stir Fry
What you need:
1 mid-sized zucchini, sliced
1 vine-ripened tomato, diced
1/2 med-sized green bell pepper, sliced and quartered
1/2 large red bell pepper, sliced and quartered
8 oz. sliced mushrooms (white button or baby bella)
oil for frying (about 1 T or a good coat of spray)
half a packet of fajita seasoning
1 cup of brown rice
tomato sauce (sadly, I used taco sauce)
1 c. shredded mexican style cheese (in lieu of this: just go with cheddar)
Optional: Fajita-style tortillas and refried beans
2. In a large skillet preheated and oiled, toss in the mushrooms, peppers, zucchini, and fajita seasoning in and cook on high heat until veggies are tender and mushrooms are carmelized.
3. Transfer skillet contents into a bowl. Transfer rice to skillet and add tomato sauce until rice is sufficiently coated to your liking. Cook at med-heat until rice is hot. Add cheese and stir.
4. Assemble veggies into fajita tortillas with light coat of refried beans or by itself on plate. Plate rice on the side or mix with stir fry.
It was surprisingly delicious, despite being a complete experiment. Next time, I would use something other than taco sauce though.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Lemony Spinachy Couscous
Ever since I met this pasta/grain, I have been in love with it. Couscous. Yes, it's been a torrid love affair since I bought that bag of Israeli couscous at the westside market this past winter. Since then, I have also tried the whole wheat variety, sold quite inexpensively at Trader Joe's of all places and more expensively at the standard grocery store. Tips for cheap couscous: find it here.
The first time I made lemon spinach couscous (I mean it has spinach, it has lemon, what's not the adore?), I made it with Israeli couscous using a recipe that actually called for whole wheat. Do NOT make this error. This time (and many times before this) I used whole wheat couscous but Israeli is possible (with different cooking instructions. I'll include both.
Now, originally this recipe called for the good stuff, real lemon, lemon zest, fresh spinach, the whole shebang, but in my kitchen, we don't always have a lemon handy (or ever), and I've switched things out and created my own little version. This is a recipe we turn to now when we haven't made a menu plan and we want something quick and easy (and Garet eats it too because he thinks Spinach is green cheese and we have yet to correct this inaccurate assumption).
Lemony Spinachy Couscous
(original recipe found at cd kitchen online)
What you need:
about 2 tsp olive oil (I eyeball it)
1/2 c chopped red bell pepper (the frozen bag of mixed pepper also works just fine)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/3 c water
a few shakes of sea salt
a crank of pepper
1 c couscous (Israeli or whole wheat)
3 T lemon juice (or more to taste)
2 c. chopped, thawed frozen spinach (or more as desired)
1. In med. saucepan, heat oil over med heat. Add pepper, garlic, spinach. Cook 3-4 min. until tender.
2. Stir in water, salt, pepper, and 2 T lemon juice. Heat to boiling.
For Israeli couscous: add couscous, cover, and boil for 5 minutes. Check to make sure Couscous is soft and all water is gone. If it is still hard, add more water and boil until couscous is soft and water is gone.
For whole wheat (easier version): take pan off burner, add couscous and cover. Let stand 5 minutes. All water must be evaporated before it is ready.
3. Add 1 T or more lemon juice until couscous is sufficiently lemony to your tastebuds. Stir and serve.
It makes a lovely side dish with the eggplant fritter sandwiches: pictured here in a pita.
The first time I made lemon spinach couscous (I mean it has spinach, it has lemon, what's not the adore?), I made it with Israeli couscous using a recipe that actually called for whole wheat. Do NOT make this error. This time (and many times before this) I used whole wheat couscous but Israeli is possible (with different cooking instructions. I'll include both.
Now, originally this recipe called for the good stuff, real lemon, lemon zest, fresh spinach, the whole shebang, but in my kitchen, we don't always have a lemon handy (or ever), and I've switched things out and created my own little version. This is a recipe we turn to now when we haven't made a menu plan and we want something quick and easy (and Garet eats it too because he thinks Spinach is green cheese and we have yet to correct this inaccurate assumption).
Lemony Spinachy Couscous
(original recipe found at cd kitchen online)
What you need:
about 2 tsp olive oil (I eyeball it)
1/2 c chopped red bell pepper (the frozen bag of mixed pepper also works just fine)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/3 c water
a few shakes of sea salt
a crank of pepper
1 c couscous (Israeli or whole wheat)
3 T lemon juice (or more to taste)
2 c. chopped, thawed frozen spinach (or more as desired)
1. In med. saucepan, heat oil over med heat. Add pepper, garlic, spinach. Cook 3-4 min. until tender.
2. Stir in water, salt, pepper, and 2 T lemon juice. Heat to boiling.
For Israeli couscous: add couscous, cover, and boil for 5 minutes. Check to make sure Couscous is soft and all water is gone. If it is still hard, add more water and boil until couscous is soft and water is gone.
For whole wheat (easier version): take pan off burner, add couscous and cover. Let stand 5 minutes. All water must be evaporated before it is ready.
3. Add 1 T or more lemon juice until couscous is sufficiently lemony to your tastebuds. Stir and serve.
It makes a lovely side dish with the eggplant fritter sandwiches: pictured here in a pita.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Spinach and Mushroom Souffle
Yes, by golly, today I am no longer a quarter of a century old. Today, I am officially 26, and in celebration of that, I thought I'd try my hand at a souffle.
I remember well my childhood viewing of Sabrina, in which Audrey Hepburn goes to culinary school in Paris and pulls out a deflated souffle, its bubble burst and folded in on itself. Even as a tyke, I thought, "That shit can't be easy."
And yet I pulled out the contents of my kitchen cabinets and set to work. First, I needed the recipe and in my old green veggie cookbook, purchased for $2 off the clearance shelves of Half-Priced Books on Mayfield, the Cook's Encyclopedia of Vegetarian Cooking. In the special occasion section was the culprit I was after, on page 236:
Warning: Will require the use of most of the pots, pans, and other kitchen utensils you own. Works best if you have a live-in significant other who offers to wash the dishes for you.
Spinach and Wild Mushroom Souffle
(serves 4)
What you need:
8 oz fresh spinach or 4 oz. frozen chopped spinach
4 T (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, plus extra for greasing
1 garlic clove, crushed
6 oz. assorted wild mushrooms such as porcini, cremini, oyster, and portobello
1 c. milk
3 T four
6 eggs, separated
pinch of nutmeg
1/4 c. grated parmesan cheese
salt and pepper
An oven preheated to 375.
1. In preparation for my birthday quest, I had purchased a 9 oz. bag of fresh spinach from my grocer's produce section. Just last weekend, we had stopped in at the Bed, Bath, and Beyond while in Toledo for a weekend Michigan visit and used a buy $15 get $5 off your total order coupon to purchase a tea ball, a cheese slicer, a set of plastic cooking spoons, and a vegetable steamer. The steamer looks like an alien space helmet and unfolds itself outward to make an odd, hole-filled metal platter that sits over the top of a pan. With that, I was able to steam my fresh spinach to my heart's content, which I did in small batches. I tried for a larger one and ended up with the whole steamer contraption collapsing in on itself into the boiling water beneath it, and Art complained overmuch that I had probably "scarred the hell" out of his saucepan. So, little batches. After steaming, I placed the spinach into a sieve-style strainer. When I had all of the spinach steamed, I ran it under cool water and then pressed out the access water with the back of a new plastic cooking spoon against the grating of the strainer. Then I chopped it with a very large and hazardous kitchen knife.
2. Melt the butter in a med-sized saucepan. Then add the garlic and mushrooms, cooking over low heat until softened. I used a mix of oyster, cremini, shittake, and baby bella. Then turn up the heat and evaporate the juices. I had some trouble with this one and called in Art as a reinforcement, who declared "What juices?" When the mushrooms are dry (if they were ever wet), add the spinach. Our spinach was still very wet so we left it in there to evaporate awhile before transferring the mushroom-spinach mix to a bowl. It said to cover and keep warm, so I plopped the veggie steamer over the top.
3. Measure 3 T out of the 1 c. of milk and put the 3 T in a bowl. Then bring the rest of the milk to a boil in a saucepan. Stir flour and egg yolks in to the cold milk in the bowl and stir the heck out of it with a fork until well blended. Stir the boiling milk into the bowl with the flour, etc and then put all of that back in the saucepan. When it thickens, add the spinach mixture to the pan. Add nutmeg, salt, and pepper.
4. Butter a 4-cup souffle dish, especially the sides and sprinkle with a little parmesan. Or if, like me, you don't have a 4-cup anything, especially a souffle dish, use a 6-cup stoneware casserole dish instead. If you have a circle one, it will really look about the same as a souffle dish anyway.
5. Beat egg whites until stiff. This can take awhile. And god help you if you don't have a mixer to do it for you. Luckily, I do. Bring the spinach mix back to a boil and add a brand new plastic baking spoon full of beaten egg white to the mixture. Then fold the spinach mix into the egg white bowl. I have some experience with folding in this manner, as I have helped my mother make many a no-bake cheese cake, but of you are unaware: folding in baking means, essentially taking the spoon down one side of the bowl, then under the contents, then up the opposite side in easy, slow motions until everything is all mixed together but nice and airy.
6. Turn the mixture into the souffle dish and spread level. It will look a lot like ricotta cheese jello with flecks of green and brown. It even jiggles. Sprinkle the parmesan cheese on top and bake 25 minutes until golden brown and puffed. Serve immediately before souffle deflates.
Our oven is sort of high, so I baked it for 22 minutes. The result: a successful souffle, albeit, a little less puffed out than it was supposed to be due to being baked in a 6-cup instead of a 4-cup container. As soon as I cut into it to distribute pieces, the whole thing sort of caved in. I assume that's the deflate part. The pieces looked like odd slices of pie and were extremely fluffy and moist. The outside of the souffle tastes like the batter of a fried something or other and the inside tastes oddly similar to fake egg but with a hint of bitterness from the spinach and a slight crunch and earthy taste from the mushrooms.
As we sat there, eating our souffle, we felt very proud of ourselves, especially when Garet tried some and shouted, "I like it!" and asked for more. (He ate around the mushrooms.) For dessert, Art made me a homemade dark chocolate raspberry two layer cake with a white gonache drizzling over it. Not too shabby for a birthday dinner, if I do say so myself.
I remember well my childhood viewing of Sabrina, in which Audrey Hepburn goes to culinary school in Paris and pulls out a deflated souffle, its bubble burst and folded in on itself. Even as a tyke, I thought, "That shit can't be easy."
And yet I pulled out the contents of my kitchen cabinets and set to work. First, I needed the recipe and in my old green veggie cookbook, purchased for $2 off the clearance shelves of Half-Priced Books on Mayfield, the Cook's Encyclopedia of Vegetarian Cooking. In the special occasion section was the culprit I was after, on page 236:
Warning: Will require the use of most of the pots, pans, and other kitchen utensils you own. Works best if you have a live-in significant other who offers to wash the dishes for you.
Spinach and Wild Mushroom Souffle
(serves 4)
What you need:
8 oz fresh spinach or 4 oz. frozen chopped spinach
4 T (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, plus extra for greasing
1 garlic clove, crushed
6 oz. assorted wild mushrooms such as porcini, cremini, oyster, and portobello
1 c. milk
3 T four
6 eggs, separated
pinch of nutmeg
1/4 c. grated parmesan cheese
salt and pepper
An oven preheated to 375.
1. In preparation for my birthday quest, I had purchased a 9 oz. bag of fresh spinach from my grocer's produce section. Just last weekend, we had stopped in at the Bed, Bath, and Beyond while in Toledo for a weekend Michigan visit and used a buy $15 get $5 off your total order coupon to purchase a tea ball, a cheese slicer, a set of plastic cooking spoons, and a vegetable steamer. The steamer looks like an alien space helmet and unfolds itself outward to make an odd, hole-filled metal platter that sits over the top of a pan. With that, I was able to steam my fresh spinach to my heart's content, which I did in small batches. I tried for a larger one and ended up with the whole steamer contraption collapsing in on itself into the boiling water beneath it, and Art complained overmuch that I had probably "scarred the hell" out of his saucepan. So, little batches. After steaming, I placed the spinach into a sieve-style strainer. When I had all of the spinach steamed, I ran it under cool water and then pressed out the access water with the back of a new plastic cooking spoon against the grating of the strainer. Then I chopped it with a very large and hazardous kitchen knife.
2. Melt the butter in a med-sized saucepan. Then add the garlic and mushrooms, cooking over low heat until softened. I used a mix of oyster, cremini, shittake, and baby bella. Then turn up the heat and evaporate the juices. I had some trouble with this one and called in Art as a reinforcement, who declared "What juices?" When the mushrooms are dry (if they were ever wet), add the spinach. Our spinach was still very wet so we left it in there to evaporate awhile before transferring the mushroom-spinach mix to a bowl. It said to cover and keep warm, so I plopped the veggie steamer over the top.
3. Measure 3 T out of the 1 c. of milk and put the 3 T in a bowl. Then bring the rest of the milk to a boil in a saucepan. Stir flour and egg yolks in to the cold milk in the bowl and stir the heck out of it with a fork until well blended. Stir the boiling milk into the bowl with the flour, etc and then put all of that back in the saucepan. When it thickens, add the spinach mixture to the pan. Add nutmeg, salt, and pepper.
4. Butter a 4-cup souffle dish, especially the sides and sprinkle with a little parmesan. Or if, like me, you don't have a 4-cup anything, especially a souffle dish, use a 6-cup stoneware casserole dish instead. If you have a circle one, it will really look about the same as a souffle dish anyway.
5. Beat egg whites until stiff. This can take awhile. And god help you if you don't have a mixer to do it for you. Luckily, I do. Bring the spinach mix back to a boil and add a brand new plastic baking spoon full of beaten egg white to the mixture. Then fold the spinach mix into the egg white bowl. I have some experience with folding in this manner, as I have helped my mother make many a no-bake cheese cake, but of you are unaware: folding in baking means, essentially taking the spoon down one side of the bowl, then under the contents, then up the opposite side in easy, slow motions until everything is all mixed together but nice and airy.
6. Turn the mixture into the souffle dish and spread level. It will look a lot like ricotta cheese jello with flecks of green and brown. It even jiggles. Sprinkle the parmesan cheese on top and bake 25 minutes until golden brown and puffed. Serve immediately before souffle deflates.
Our oven is sort of high, so I baked it for 22 minutes. The result: a successful souffle, albeit, a little less puffed out than it was supposed to be due to being baked in a 6-cup instead of a 4-cup container. As soon as I cut into it to distribute pieces, the whole thing sort of caved in. I assume that's the deflate part. The pieces looked like odd slices of pie and were extremely fluffy and moist. The outside of the souffle tastes like the batter of a fried something or other and the inside tastes oddly similar to fake egg but with a hint of bitterness from the spinach and a slight crunch and earthy taste from the mushrooms.
As we sat there, eating our souffle, we felt very proud of ourselves, especially when Garet tried some and shouted, "I like it!" and asked for more. (He ate around the mushrooms.) For dessert, Art made me a homemade dark chocolate raspberry two layer cake with a white gonache drizzling over it. Not too shabby for a birthday dinner, if I do say so myself.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Free the Frittata
Art wanted tacos. So I was about to resign myself to a lackluster meal of whole wheat lavash (I refuse to bring in more than one wrap-like product into the house at the same time... I mean...it's basically a tortilla, right?) with a bunch of lettuce in it until I got an idea. As I was searching through the veggie cookbook yesterday for possible birthday feasts (my 26th is on thursday), I came, once again, across the veggie frittata. There is always a frittata in veggie cookbooks, unless of course, it's a vegan one, and I've yet to be tempted to try my hand at one for several reasons:
1. It looks like an omelet so I always think... hell, I could just make an omelet.
2. I don't like eggs. I mean, I'm fine with them in stir fries or cracked into pancake batter but as far as scrambling them or sunnyside-uping them, the taste leaves me sick to my stomach. This is mostly the result of my childhood dislike for the thought of eating pureed fetus chick, but compounded by the time my mom fed me undercooked overeasy ones and I got sick off of them. I do, admittedly, still eat them deviled, but come now, who doesn't?
3. Other food options inevitably look tastier and more daring, especially given my dislike of eggs anyway.
The second reason was remedied a few years or so ago when Art and I were at a Bob Evans and I wasn't that hungry and so, ordered the litest meal on the menu, which included a small order of fake eggs. You know the ones: they come in a carton, are essentially egg whites with yellow coloration for more of an "egg" feeling? So I sampled the fake eggs and loved them. They had all the good qualities of egg but without the heavy egg taste, which happens to be the aspect that upsets my tummy. They were just fake enough to fake my body into believing they were a new food group, and we've been fast friends ever since.
As for the other two reasons, well... I was in the mood for something new, but that would "go" with what the rest of the family was having: tacos with the meat, cheese, refried beans, onion, tomato, lettuce, and rice for Art and taco meat with cheese in a bowl for Garet (babysteps). Immediately, I remembered that frittata recipe. Frittata strikes me as Mexican sounding. I wonder if it is...
Anyway, the recipe was for onion and pepper frittata or some such thing, but as with all veggie recipes, I just use the premise of the recipe and add what I want and subtract what doesn't interest me. What I came up with, I'll call the Fajita Frittata. And it goes a little something like this:
Fajita Frittata
3 rings red bell pepper, quartered
2 slices tomato, quartered
a handful of fresh mushrooms (I used presliced baby bella)
1/2 c. fake egg
3 T shredded mexican cheese mix
1 T grated Parmesan cheese
enough olive oil for frying
salt and pepper
fajita powder (or other taco seasoning)
1. Heat about 1 T olive oil in a small skillet on med-high heat until it hisses when water is sprinkled on it. Add veggies and fry until edges are slightly blackened, flipping often.
2. Transfer veggies to a small bowl. Add fake egg and cheese and mix well. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and about 1t fajita powder. Mix again.
3. Put another 3/4 T of olive oil in the skillet. Coat evenly and put on low. Add egg mixture to skillet and shake to coat evenly. Cook about three minutes until top is set, rustling the edges often to move liquid egg to the bottom. This last bit didn't work so well for me so I just ended up flipping the thing and leaving it on for about a minute longer before flipping it back. It did the trick.
The siesta unfolded in my apartment tonight with the boys eating their various taco concoctions and me with my plate of seasoned frittata. Cooking this egg-pie thing (as Art called it) was quite enjoyable. It doesn't rip like an omelet, a common occurrence in my omelet making that usually results in scrambled eggs for breakfast. With the cheese in the "batter," the whole thing is more solid and fluffy, but with the bits of veggie peppering the top for an array of color. In addition, the fajita seasoning added an extra kick to the non-eggy flavor of the fake egg that complimented it nicely. Garet said it looked like pizza, but it wasn't enough to tempt him to give it a taste. Maybe next time...
The siesta will continue after we put Garet to bed. Art has been offered two classes to teach online for the fall and we're opening a bottle of margarita in celebration.
1. It looks like an omelet so I always think... hell, I could just make an omelet.
2. I don't like eggs. I mean, I'm fine with them in stir fries or cracked into pancake batter but as far as scrambling them or sunnyside-uping them, the taste leaves me sick to my stomach. This is mostly the result of my childhood dislike for the thought of eating pureed fetus chick, but compounded by the time my mom fed me undercooked overeasy ones and I got sick off of them. I do, admittedly, still eat them deviled, but come now, who doesn't?
3. Other food options inevitably look tastier and more daring, especially given my dislike of eggs anyway.
The second reason was remedied a few years or so ago when Art and I were at a Bob Evans and I wasn't that hungry and so, ordered the litest meal on the menu, which included a small order of fake eggs. You know the ones: they come in a carton, are essentially egg whites with yellow coloration for more of an "egg" feeling? So I sampled the fake eggs and loved them. They had all the good qualities of egg but without the heavy egg taste, which happens to be the aspect that upsets my tummy. They were just fake enough to fake my body into believing they were a new food group, and we've been fast friends ever since.
As for the other two reasons, well... I was in the mood for something new, but that would "go" with what the rest of the family was having: tacos with the meat, cheese, refried beans, onion, tomato, lettuce, and rice for Art and taco meat with cheese in a bowl for Garet (babysteps). Immediately, I remembered that frittata recipe. Frittata strikes me as Mexican sounding. I wonder if it is...
Anyway, the recipe was for onion and pepper frittata or some such thing, but as with all veggie recipes, I just use the premise of the recipe and add what I want and subtract what doesn't interest me. What I came up with, I'll call the Fajita Frittata. And it goes a little something like this:
Fajita Frittata
3 rings red bell pepper, quartered
2 slices tomato, quartered
a handful of fresh mushrooms (I used presliced baby bella)
1/2 c. fake egg
3 T shredded mexican cheese mix
1 T grated Parmesan cheese
enough olive oil for frying
salt and pepper
fajita powder (or other taco seasoning)
1. Heat about 1 T olive oil in a small skillet on med-high heat until it hisses when water is sprinkled on it. Add veggies and fry until edges are slightly blackened, flipping often.
2. Transfer veggies to a small bowl. Add fake egg and cheese and mix well. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and about 1t fajita powder. Mix again.
3. Put another 3/4 T of olive oil in the skillet. Coat evenly and put on low. Add egg mixture to skillet and shake to coat evenly. Cook about three minutes until top is set, rustling the edges often to move liquid egg to the bottom. This last bit didn't work so well for me so I just ended up flipping the thing and leaving it on for about a minute longer before flipping it back. It did the trick.
The siesta unfolded in my apartment tonight with the boys eating their various taco concoctions and me with my plate of seasoned frittata. Cooking this egg-pie thing (as Art called it) was quite enjoyable. It doesn't rip like an omelet, a common occurrence in my omelet making that usually results in scrambled eggs for breakfast. With the cheese in the "batter," the whole thing is more solid and fluffy, but with the bits of veggie peppering the top for an array of color. In addition, the fajita seasoning added an extra kick to the non-eggy flavor of the fake egg that complimented it nicely. Garet said it looked like pizza, but it wasn't enough to tempt him to give it a taste. Maybe next time...
The siesta will continue after we put Garet to bed. Art has been offered two classes to teach online for the fall and we're opening a bottle of margarita in celebration.
Monday, June 7, 2010
The New Recipe Commitment
Now that I'm really going on this blog, I'd hate to lose momentum. But then, the ability to write it depends heavily upon the fact of making something over the course of the day that I've never made and well, I'm betting on some weeks that are filled with old favorites (or new favorites). Tonight, for example, we had french toast. I make a mean french toast but it stands to reason that whether you burn the bread or let it get too soggy or not soggy enough, you know the basic gist of making french toast. It's not hard and hardly worth a blog.
The day before, I had a premade meal from Trader Joes and the day before that I ate Vegetable Stir Fry and Tofu at the Elephant Bar. I guess I could talk about the Elephant Bar meal. It's one I've had often. The restaurant is located in the mall at Toledo and while it's a chain, the one in Toledo is the only one that exists east of the Mississippi. Best Tofu I've ever had, so it's not that it isn't worth blogging. It's just that it doesn't feel new to me. The thrill is gone between me and the Elephant Bar and so, I doubt I'd give it the justice it deserves, much as a wife is bound to overlook mentioning some of the better qualities of her husband that a girlfriend would expound upon of a boyfriend. If you enjoy tofu and live anywhere near Toledo (or somewhere west of the Mississippi, you should go there and check it out for yourself. It's worth the trip.
However, back to the task at hand. I don't want to let my blogging go lax. So here's my goal: I pledge to you, dear reader, if you exist at all or care at all, to make or consume at least one new blog-worthy thing a week. I'll try to make it two or three over the course of the summer, because I have the time to dedicate to it that I don't have during the school year. But at least once is the minimum. I'm thinking if I write it out and send it into cyberspace, I'm more likely to keep the pact... with myself and you.
The day before, I had a premade meal from Trader Joes and the day before that I ate Vegetable Stir Fry and Tofu at the Elephant Bar. I guess I could talk about the Elephant Bar meal. It's one I've had often. The restaurant is located in the mall at Toledo and while it's a chain, the one in Toledo is the only one that exists east of the Mississippi. Best Tofu I've ever had, so it's not that it isn't worth blogging. It's just that it doesn't feel new to me. The thrill is gone between me and the Elephant Bar and so, I doubt I'd give it the justice it deserves, much as a wife is bound to overlook mentioning some of the better qualities of her husband that a girlfriend would expound upon of a boyfriend. If you enjoy tofu and live anywhere near Toledo (or somewhere west of the Mississippi, you should go there and check it out for yourself. It's worth the trip.
However, back to the task at hand. I don't want to let my blogging go lax. So here's my goal: I pledge to you, dear reader, if you exist at all or care at all, to make or consume at least one new blog-worthy thing a week. I'll try to make it two or three over the course of the summer, because I have the time to dedicate to it that I don't have during the school year. But at least once is the minimum. I'm thinking if I write it out and send it into cyberspace, I'm more likely to keep the pact... with myself and you.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Eating Out: Mexican Style
I don't like Mexican. And no, this is not meant to be a pun based on the fact that I divorced a Mexican, though... there is that too. No, I'm talking Mexican food. It all started when I was a child and, like my six-year-old, I would eat the contents of a taco, but if you placed it on a tortilla, I wouldn't touch the thing. Then, there was that couple of years back in Erie when my mom worked at Taco Bell and brought us home soft tacos as snacks on a too-consistent basis. I cannot eat them too this day. But mostly, I don't enjoy the grease of it. I don't enjoy the bland mix of cornflour, meat, cheese, and tomato. And I certainly don't like when they add that blasted hot salsa to things.
I will admit that I do enjoy a good margarita.
So you can imagine my surprise when Art and I went to the mexican restaurant Los Habaneros, located on Van Aken north of the Warrensville/Northfield/Van Aken/Chagrin intersection next to the Fresh Market and I actually liked... scratch that... loved the food.
We walked in and the friendly waiter (he called us his amigos) took us to a table. It was 2 dollar margarita day but we managed to resist it. I order water. Art, the cola, and the waiter brought us some corn chips and salsa to snack on. The salsa was a medium. I would have preferred mild but I didn't mind the bite of it too much. Art really loved the salsa.
Then the waiter came back to take our orders, but we had to ask for more time to decide, because there was so much that looked good. Art had a hard time choosing between the enchilada platter and the steak tacos. I was having a unique restaurant quandary for me, in that, I had several vegetarian options to choose from, but after much debate, I decided on the veggie fajita, because I was in a zucchini mood. Art went enchilada. And before we had time to finish the chips, our plates were in front of us. I can't comment to much on Art's plate, though I did try the cheese enchilada and it was quite tasty.
For my part, the only issue I might gripe about was that all the carbs were made with white flour. But the mexican rice was flavorful with a little bit of pea in it. The refried beans had a light layer of cheese on it, and the veggies... well... they were perfectly cooked. Not too soggy, not too crisp. There was a giant heap on one side of the plate filled with zucchini, summer squash, big slices of mushroom, tomato, bell pepper, and onion. As I've mentioned before, I don't enjoy onion, but it was so mild, I didn't mind it, though I did give a lot of the onion slices to Art, as he loves his onion. With the veggie platter came three warm fajita sheets wrapped in tin foil. I filled two of the fajitas with a light coat of beans and rice before heaping on the veggies and eat them with contented slurps.
It was the best Mexican food I'd ever had in my life. And I've been to my fair share of "authentic mexican" places, a current craze in Toledo. Usually, the only thing on the menu I can eat, though, is a veggie soft taco: soft shell, shredded cheese, shredded lettuce, and tomato.... sarcastic yum. Here though, there was a cornucopia of vegetables, well prepared and waiting to be eaten.
We both agreed to return again. Art still means to try the steak tacos. I aim for the spinach enchiladas. And as the waiter told us "adios amigos," we, overstuffed but happy, exited the restaurant, leftovers in hand.
I will admit that I do enjoy a good margarita.
So you can imagine my surprise when Art and I went to the mexican restaurant Los Habaneros, located on Van Aken north of the Warrensville/Northfield/Van Aken/Chagrin intersection next to the Fresh Market and I actually liked... scratch that... loved the food.
We walked in and the friendly waiter (he called us his amigos) took us to a table. It was 2 dollar margarita day but we managed to resist it. I order water. Art, the cola, and the waiter brought us some corn chips and salsa to snack on. The salsa was a medium. I would have preferred mild but I didn't mind the bite of it too much. Art really loved the salsa.
Then the waiter came back to take our orders, but we had to ask for more time to decide, because there was so much that looked good. Art had a hard time choosing between the enchilada platter and the steak tacos. I was having a unique restaurant quandary for me, in that, I had several vegetarian options to choose from, but after much debate, I decided on the veggie fajita, because I was in a zucchini mood. Art went enchilada. And before we had time to finish the chips, our plates were in front of us. I can't comment to much on Art's plate, though I did try the cheese enchilada and it was quite tasty.
For my part, the only issue I might gripe about was that all the carbs were made with white flour. But the mexican rice was flavorful with a little bit of pea in it. The refried beans had a light layer of cheese on it, and the veggies... well... they were perfectly cooked. Not too soggy, not too crisp. There was a giant heap on one side of the plate filled with zucchini, summer squash, big slices of mushroom, tomato, bell pepper, and onion. As I've mentioned before, I don't enjoy onion, but it was so mild, I didn't mind it, though I did give a lot of the onion slices to Art, as he loves his onion. With the veggie platter came three warm fajita sheets wrapped in tin foil. I filled two of the fajitas with a light coat of beans and rice before heaping on the veggies and eat them with contented slurps.
It was the best Mexican food I'd ever had in my life. And I've been to my fair share of "authentic mexican" places, a current craze in Toledo. Usually, the only thing on the menu I can eat, though, is a veggie soft taco: soft shell, shredded cheese, shredded lettuce, and tomato.... sarcastic yum. Here though, there was a cornucopia of vegetables, well prepared and waiting to be eaten.
We both agreed to return again. Art still means to try the steak tacos. I aim for the spinach enchiladas. And as the waiter told us "adios amigos," we, overstuffed but happy, exited the restaurant, leftovers in hand.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Planting
Upon returning from the long weekend Michigan trip in honor of Memorial weekend (and if I'd forgotten the memorial day time-frame, I would have been reminded by the throng of folks gathered in the street in front of the town monument to killed-in-action soldiers in Weston-- home to a church, a graveyard, a post office, a bar and nothing else-- that blocked my path to Bob Evans on Monday morning), I made the decision: tomorrow, the garden must go in. So on Tuesday, despite fear of downpour, Art and I piled in the car with directions to a recommended greenhouse, a hoe, and hope that we would not end up horribly, horribly lost.
Lowe's (not to be confused with the hardware store) Greenhouse is located in the middle of nowhere, past a slew of houses up for sale and an abandoned (or at least it seemed to be to us) restaurant. About a half hour after entering the car, I arrived. The drive itself, though, was not too cumbersome. It took us past a lot of parks and woodsy areas and attractive house eye-candy to stare at. Once there, I searched out the vegetable section. The greenhouse was impressively massive, with an entire section dedicated to fruit trees and several to flowering plants. In the back of the main greenhouse, the vegetables rest with clear labeling over each variety of not just crop but also specific variety of that crop. All the beefsteak tomatoes, for example, were underneath the index card-sized paper that read "Heirloom Beefsteak" followed by the plants special characteristics, as well as tasting notes. The same applied to every single solitary vegetable plant Lowe's carried, and it was a wide selection. There were at least ten varieties of non-hot peppers. And nearly twenty different types of heirloom tomatoes. I was in a candy store for vegetarians. Art could do nothing but follow after my excited leaps and wild bee-lines as I ooed and ahed.
In the end, we chose nineteen dollars worth of plants: Three heirloom tomatoes (Beefsteak, Mr. Stripy, and Purple Cherokee), two sweet peppers (red bell and purple bell), two eggplants (one standard variety and one called "fairytale" that's striped purple and white), two green zucchini plants, and one lone kale (blue ridge) so I could have some for the fall and maybe transplant it to a pot for the winter. I also got a packet of bush cucumber seeds, planting four hills in total.
Plants at my feet in the passenger seat, we drove the half hour back to civilization and planted the crops on our little 4 by 14 plot. There was room left for one plant, so today, we went back and planted one hill of edamame and put the cages up around the tomato plants so we won't have to deal with staking as much.
All in all, I'm excited for the future culinary creations that will result from my community garden endeavor. Surely some new recipes will find their way to the blog in the near future, featuring purple peppers and pink tomatoes.
Lowe's (not to be confused with the hardware store) Greenhouse is located in the middle of nowhere, past a slew of houses up for sale and an abandoned (or at least it seemed to be to us) restaurant. About a half hour after entering the car, I arrived. The drive itself, though, was not too cumbersome. It took us past a lot of parks and woodsy areas and attractive house eye-candy to stare at. Once there, I searched out the vegetable section. The greenhouse was impressively massive, with an entire section dedicated to fruit trees and several to flowering plants. In the back of the main greenhouse, the vegetables rest with clear labeling over each variety of not just crop but also specific variety of that crop. All the beefsteak tomatoes, for example, were underneath the index card-sized paper that read "Heirloom Beefsteak" followed by the plants special characteristics, as well as tasting notes. The same applied to every single solitary vegetable plant Lowe's carried, and it was a wide selection. There were at least ten varieties of non-hot peppers. And nearly twenty different types of heirloom tomatoes. I was in a candy store for vegetarians. Art could do nothing but follow after my excited leaps and wild bee-lines as I ooed and ahed.
In the end, we chose nineteen dollars worth of plants: Three heirloom tomatoes (Beefsteak, Mr. Stripy, and Purple Cherokee), two sweet peppers (red bell and purple bell), two eggplants (one standard variety and one called "fairytale" that's striped purple and white), two green zucchini plants, and one lone kale (blue ridge) so I could have some for the fall and maybe transplant it to a pot for the winter. I also got a packet of bush cucumber seeds, planting four hills in total.
Plants at my feet in the passenger seat, we drove the half hour back to civilization and planted the crops on our little 4 by 14 plot. There was room left for one plant, so today, we went back and planted one hill of edamame and put the cages up around the tomato plants so we won't have to deal with staking as much.
All in all, I'm excited for the future culinary creations that will result from my community garden endeavor. Surely some new recipes will find their way to the blog in the near future, featuring purple peppers and pink tomatoes.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Traveling Food and Memorial Weekend Feast
One thing about constant weekend jaunts to Michigan I've noticed over the course of my year in Cleveland: food goes bad. Perfectly fresh leftover eggplant is tuesday's liquified mess in the trash bin. This past weekend, I took yogurt so as to have breakfast while away, only to have it spoil on the way up, cooler be damned. The end of the week before a weekend Michigan trek has become a testament to our parishibles. We stuff them in our mouths in odd combinations just to get them used up. Naturally, we forgot about the zucchini we just bought and it went bad by Monday.
On the plus side, Kroger had a steak sale in Michigan, so Art bought four big steaks for him and his mother. On Sunday, while Art installed a much-needed ceiling fan replacement in the dining room, Art's mom and I made a big fancy steak dinner. She made the steaks and I made marinated portabello mushroom caps (on sale at Meijer), which is my go-to on-the-grill steak veggie alternative. Truth be told, I enjoy the mushroom caps far more than I ever enjoyed the steak from my meat-eating days. For simplicity's sake, I call them portabello mushroom steaks. And the key, as with a lot of steaks, really is in the seasoning.
I found a recipe for it online years ago that involved a marinade with fruity wine and oil. I replaced the wine with fruit juice and vinegar. But I've long-since lost the recipe. Instead, I vigorously sprinkle the caps with sea salt and pepper, then garlic powder and maybe a pinch of cayenne for a kick. Then I immerse them in strawberry balsamic vinagrette, though any fruit balsamic vinagrette will do. In Michigan, I didn't have my strawberry stuff handy so I bought pomagranette blueberry instead and that too was divine.
Then, after marinating for at least 30 minutes (1-2 hours is preferable), you put the caps on the grill for about 5-10 minutes, flipping at the halfway point. As with steak, the key is to keep a close eye. In the apartment, we don't have a grill so I fry them up in a large skillet and this works too, though lacks that touch of charcoally taste that grilled food (even gas-grilled food) inevitably has.
My favorite way to eat my mushroom steak is with a side of raw kale leaves and tomato. The sweet black "gravy" from the mushroom really complements the bitterness of the kale. This past weekend, we had side salads with ranch instead, as well as a baked sweet potato a la Long Horn (cut in half with a glop of butter and a generous sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar. Then, an apple crisp for dessert.
It was a cookout fit for the holiday weekend. And luckily, the leftover mushrooms made the journey back to Cleveland untarnished, and I had the fried version of my mushroom steak again tonight.
On the plus side, Kroger had a steak sale in Michigan, so Art bought four big steaks for him and his mother. On Sunday, while Art installed a much-needed ceiling fan replacement in the dining room, Art's mom and I made a big fancy steak dinner. She made the steaks and I made marinated portabello mushroom caps (on sale at Meijer), which is my go-to on-the-grill steak veggie alternative. Truth be told, I enjoy the mushroom caps far more than I ever enjoyed the steak from my meat-eating days. For simplicity's sake, I call them portabello mushroom steaks. And the key, as with a lot of steaks, really is in the seasoning.
I found a recipe for it online years ago that involved a marinade with fruity wine and oil. I replaced the wine with fruit juice and vinegar. But I've long-since lost the recipe. Instead, I vigorously sprinkle the caps with sea salt and pepper, then garlic powder and maybe a pinch of cayenne for a kick. Then I immerse them in strawberry balsamic vinagrette, though any fruit balsamic vinagrette will do. In Michigan, I didn't have my strawberry stuff handy so I bought pomagranette blueberry instead and that too was divine.
Then, after marinating for at least 30 minutes (1-2 hours is preferable), you put the caps on the grill for about 5-10 minutes, flipping at the halfway point. As with steak, the key is to keep a close eye. In the apartment, we don't have a grill so I fry them up in a large skillet and this works too, though lacks that touch of charcoally taste that grilled food (even gas-grilled food) inevitably has.
My favorite way to eat my mushroom steak is with a side of raw kale leaves and tomato. The sweet black "gravy" from the mushroom really complements the bitterness of the kale. This past weekend, we had side salads with ranch instead, as well as a baked sweet potato a la Long Horn (cut in half with a glop of butter and a generous sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar. Then, an apple crisp for dessert.
It was a cookout fit for the holiday weekend. And luckily, the leftover mushrooms made the journey back to Cleveland untarnished, and I had the fried version of my mushroom steak again tonight.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)