Weekend Update October 27, 2013

There are three secrets to managing. The first secret is to have patience. The second is be patient.

 And the third most important secret is patience. 

Chuck Tanner

This is because when you're the one in charge of managing any particular circus, you can be absolutely sure that some things are not going to happen as straighforwardly as planned, while most other things are going to go absolutely sideways.
It requires all three of Chuck Tanner's secret keys to good management to face these unexpected little hitches in the get along as they develop and say, patiently and sincerely,

"Well, my goodness.
Isn't that just so interesting?"

"Isn't that just so.....errr...interesting" were the words spoken by yours truly last week, as the mushrooms, wine and dried tomatoes of Spaghetti Squash with Chicken and mushrooms melanged themselves into dinner. What happened wasn't the anticipated this-

nope, what came out of my beloved, food-stylist-free cast iron skillet was this:

Quick! Can you tell which version was prepared and plated by
the wizards otherwise known as 'food stylists'?
I'll bet a box of cookies that you can.

It's possible that the dried tomato acids in the sauce reacted with the iron skillet and darkened everything, or maybe it was the very long time required to saute the mushrooms; this recipe is one of those that tests a cook's patience with a few simple words: "Cook three minutes, or until liquid evaporates"

Three times three minutes later, and I was grumbling,

"I am pretty sure entire deserts have evaporated while I've been standing here."
(And the bottom of the pan was still swimming in mushroom juice.)

  But you know what? I'd cook this recipe again. Once the dark, dark color of the simmering mushrooms and the dried tomatoes began to assert itself, I decided to leave out the chicken, and although it wasn't the prettiest thing to ever come out of this kitchen, it was really tasty. Mushrooms are little bundles of B vitamins, and tomatoes are packed with lycopene and then there's the spinach...
If you're looking for a super nutritious,meatless, gluten free way to warm up up the tummy, this is a really good recipe. Using a non-cast iron skillet may produce a more appetizing color, and shifting the Parmesan to something that melts more smoothly, Swiss or Gorgonzola, would be a plus too.
And, if you can enjoy carbs and gluten without hoping that your doctor doesn't find out, try it on top of fettuccine.
Because there is no agricultural magic that can make a squash taste like pasta.
However. If one accepts it on its own merits- if one does not expect a taste-alike of perfect al dente strands of pasta, spaghetti squash is a fun way to up the veggie count.
Ordinary spaghetti squash went plate to plate with its hybrid spawn stripetti this week, and here are the pics of the aftermath:

plain old, available year round spaghetti squash.

and Stripetti squash, a pretty and decorative
delicata/spaghetti squash cross.

And the unexpected winner is spaghetti squash!
Less dangerous to cut open, faster to cook, easier to separate into those fun little stringle thingles, available all year, and cheaper too!
I love it when the plain things of this world win.
Here are two other plain winners:
The crockpot brisket recipe that the home audience brought home from his co-worker Steve,
and Alton Brown's leftover potato soup. 
The brisket (and it was a relatively small one) took the full 8 hours. Patience. It's the seasoning most likely to turn tough meat tender. (And you can make that a metaphor and carry it as far as you want to.) If you're expecting a smokey oven roasted or slowly grilled brisket, you're not going to get that from a crock pot.

what you're going to get is another great way to turn an inexpensive cut of meat
into something versatile, tender and delicious.

The inclusion of buttermilk in the potato soup's ingredients is what earned it tryout. Buttermilk is something I associate with biscuits, pancakes and for some reason, porches.

Buttermilk. It just seems like the beverage of
choice for a guy rocking on a porch.
A guy who thinks sipping spoiled milk is fun.

Regardless of how or why I approach buttermilk with a certain amount of distrust (really- why? Why does buttermilk seem a little gross, and sour cream does not?) it adds a creamy tang to this soup which, absent any carrots, celery or other vegetables, spoons up like runny mashed potatoes.

And I mean that in the nicest and most satisfying way.

The recipe was fine, and the buttermilk a great addition (I'll be adding buttermilk to mashed potatoes from now on) it wasn't the soup my mouth had been hoping for. I'd been remembering the chock full of veggies bowl of warming goodness ladled up by the co-manager of the kitchen in which the home audience grew up. That's the kitchen manager also called my father-in-law. There are a couple of bowlfuls of this soup left in the fridge, and I think that I'll saute some celery, onions and carrots to stir into the leftovers. 
It'll remind me of all the excellent kitchen managers that it's been my honor to know. And all the manager's specials that they have patiently prepared and generously shared.


And I hope that this week, there are very few 
patience pop quizzes. 
Very few tests of your temper
or of the loving kindness of those around you.
But even if  all three rings of your particular circus
are out of control.
I hope you remember that 
somehow, at least some people will be loved.
and somehow,  some kind of life will be lived,
and somehow, someone will find something to eat.
In other words,

I think somehow, someway,
you'll manage okay.