Menus, February 25, 2014

“To those of you who received honors, awards ,

 and distinctions, I say, well done.

 And to the C students I say, you, too,

 can be president of the United States.” 

George W. Bush

Last Sunday, the world celebrated the giving and receiving of prizes to those who were the very -est. The fastest, the slidiest, the stick and puckiest, the luckiest, the creatiest, the spinniest, the jumpiest...that's right, it was 

the taste season finale.

Wait, you thought I was talking about this?

Here's a funny thing about prizes- they always go to the something-est. Even if the something-est is impossible to measure. There are prizes for the most beautiful dog:

This is Huckleberry, winner of the fourth annual Beautiful Bulldog
competition. Because some people do not consider
 beautiful and bulldog to be oxymoronic.

and prizes for the cutest dog:

this is Boo, who scored a super sonic score
on the awwww meter to win his place in
cute dog history

and even prizes for the ugliest dog:

my personal favorite, and my nominee for
most interesting and funniest.

but there are no prizes for most average, normalest dog. 

For the most brilliant humans among us, there are Nobels and Pulitzers; for the most weirdly brilliant, the Ig Nobel awards, and for the very least brilliant, there are

 the Darwin awards, rewarding those who serve
mankind by  taking themselves out
of the evolutionary gene pool. 

But there are no award for ordinary, or normal, or average. Probably because as soon as we tried to award a prize for most normal, someone would protest and say-

"Wait! She's the weird one! I'm the normal one!"

This Sunday, the movie-going world watches again as awards are given to more of at least some kinds of     est. Not just the movie going world- even those of us who have seen only 11% of the movies up for best picture will probably tune in (that's one movie out of nine, for those of you who have just reached for your calculators. I saw Philomena.). Whether or not I see them in the cinema or at home I love being told a good story by a good movie, and stories about food? Well, they're often good enough to eat.
That's why this week's dinners are prize winning recipes that may also be reminders of the best food movies and food moments in movies that I can remember- and there's hardly anything that would be more fun that hearing about your own favorite food and movie combos. Here's how I'm hoping things reel out around here:

Wednesday: Tomato Basil Soup and Grilled Mozzarella Sandwiches

Last week, the great food movie Big Night got a replay, so all things Italian are sounding wonderful. Today I'll wander into Costco and pick up a favorite treat:

Marinated mozzarella balls

We'll be using them twice this week- first tonight, in grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches. Don't even think about pouring the oil of this marinade down the sink, unless you're planning on a sink salad- this stuff and a little balsamic vinegar will make the fastest, tastiest salad dressing you've ever had. The soup is, well, super easy. Start it before you gather the ingredients for the sandwiches, and by the time the sandwiches are done, the soup probably will be too.

Thursday: Meatloaf, Mashed Potatoes and Salad

Here's a prize winning meatloaf from Quaker Oats, and to serve alongside it, some prize winning mashed potatoes. You can sculpt whatever you want to with the potatoes, I'll be recreating the mashed potato mountain from Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
Just to say there were greens on the plate, I'll be tossing something dark green and leafy with some cherry tomatoes, a little of the mozzarella marinade, and balsamic vinegar.
Don't worry about leftovers- both the meatloaf and potatoes get a replay on Sunday.



Friday: Caprese Cod Sandwiches

Guess what the internet answered when asked for "award winning fish recipes"? This terrific looking sandwich!
 If you're trying to stay away from gluten, serve this as a salad or blow a movie-star style budget on a gluten free bun. Everything you need for an easy, nutritious dinner is here, but if a sandwich on its own just doesn't feel like dinner, try some oven fries or some kale chips for a kick of crunchy salty goodness.



Saturday: Triple Chocolate Beef and Bean Chili

Remember the movie Chocolat? Me too. So I went hunting for ways to use chocolate for dinner, and found this gem in a recipe pile that is a wealth of savory chocolatey goodness. We're a little too beef centric this week, so I'm considering substituting additional vegetables or chicken for the beef in this recipe. If that doesn't happen, we may get the necessary veg with this prize winning coleslaw.



Sunday: Leftover Meatloaf Shepherd's Pie

Look! A thing to do with leftover meatloaf that is not a sandwich! This great one dish meal looks like it'll go together in a snap, and that's a good thing,because I'd hate to be in the kitchen when people start giving out awards for movies I haven't seen...yet.

Whether you watch movies, or award shows about movies
or both, or neither-
This week I want you to know that I know.
I know that there are days when 
you deserve a medal 
for managing somehow to not hurt anyone
with your mouth or your hands or your car.
I know there are days when you deserve an Oscar
for acting like everything is going to be okay.
But I hope that this week 
you'll  find that the rewards you want most
 lay just within your reach
and I hope  this week
surrounds you with so much love and happiness
that you know just what it feels like

to have won first prize.

Weekend Update, February 10, 2014

Last night I neglected to mention

 something that bears repeating.

Ron Fairly

That's baseball great Ron Fairly, providing the thought that twists the ribbon and ties the bow on a weekend of mild ironies.
Because I was going to write last night. About repeating, and restarting. But I didn't- because my faithful laptop refused to restart.
So I carried my ailing computer across the house, where we watched Winter Olympians snowboarding....

and ice skating.......

 and skiing.....

"See?" I said to my little laptop 

"Sometimes, you get to the top of the podium because you've learned to fall down and restart better than anyone else"

In answer, the laptop clattered something that sounded an awful lot like

"You ought to know. You've spent a lot
more time going downhill than I have"

So I tried posting the news of this week's perpetual roast beef replay via my extremely smart phone.

But, alas, my phone cannot make (or take) a joke. 

Having been cosseted and carefully protected from wear and water for its entire life, my phone has no sense of humor. My phone might be able to find a picture of, say, Einstein, but it's my sturdy laptop, that workhorse that has survived virus after virus, recovered from spills and hard restarts galore, and types on unashamed of its worn keys

that can find for me a picture of
Einstein in fuzzy slippers. 

As it turns out, wipeouts and restarts, missteps and resets act as the compost that grows a sense of humor as well as world-class athletes.
Happily, after a night of rest, my brave little electronic trooper has agreed to rally once more, and post a few pictures of what went right and not so right this week- although it's warned me to type quickly; it might at any time decide to take a few minutes of shut down. 

We started the week here:

 

With a roast eye of round and mashed potatoes.  Which were both okay. 

But the day after, and the day after that, when that roast beef got a chance to start over and over again- that's when things got really yummy.
This Pho recipe!!! The addition of anise and cinnamon to the broth! Wow! what a revelation. Here's how it looked-

easy to make, and even easier to eat!

The beef appeared in a starring role once more, in fajitas on Saturday, and that was okay too, though I overcooked things a little, so they got a little chewy. Which is also what I did to Friday night's salmon. A great idea, ruined by overcooking. That is pretty much my perpetual fish story. 

Here's a discovery worth repeating: stirring in spices when roasting butternut squash or pumpkin. We love roasted winter squash so much that the idea of seasoning it with anything other than salt and olive oil has seemed like overkill. Until we tasted it roasted with cinnamon, alongside this (overcooked) cinnamon rubbed salmon:

The squash was the best part of the meal, even though
the salmon wasn't terrible.

The idea of using winter squash roasted in spices got another play yesterday, with a roasted butternut squash and black bean salad that was...well, it was great.  A meal as light as a salad, but with enough substance to work perfectly on a cold winter day. Packed with protein and flavor, this is a great meatless meal:

That will get a ton of replay time.

I hope that this week

all the things that could have been called falls

or failures

become a chance to restart. 

And that you receive from this week

a balance

of things that prove to you your skills

and things that prove to you your own resilience

of things that go right the first time,

and things that require you to shut down

and restart, over and over again

until you realize at last 

that you really are
a champion.

Menus and grocery lists, February 5, 2014

“But you can't start. Only a baby can start... 

You and me -  We can't start again.” 

John Steinbeck

Three things are clear. John Steinbeck never saw an Olympic sport, he rarely cooked dinner, and he never watched

Groundhog Day.

But, the day before yesterday, hundreds of televisions  turned off the Superbawl and replayed this classic movie about restarts and redos.  At least three major religions  glean important spiritual lessons from this film, which made Punxsutawny Phil the second most celebrated rodent in America-

next to this guy, naturally.

What, one wonders, would the human Phil in the movie had done, had he known on February 1st that he was about to experience 10 years of February 2nd? 

Probably the same thing an Olympic speed skater would do if she knew that the next start (and the next one, and the next one ) would be a false start:

she'd start getting better at getting a better start.

Which brings us right around an icy track to dinner. Because as long as the peeps gotta eat, every day is a new day to get dinner right. In fact, while there are way too many parts of a life that don't allow restarts, way too many parts of life where you have to get it right the first time or live with the mistake, dinner is not one of those parts. You can keep starting dinner over and over every day until dinner's a winner, and when you get it wrong, it's no big deal.

hmmm. Okay, so sometimes getting it
wrong is a big deal.
Unless, of course, the poison is on purpose.

This week, we're playing groundhog day with a fantastic eye of round recipe- we'll have it over and over, giving it a starting position in three different dinners; with any luck, at least one of them will get it just right:

Wednesday: Roast Beef, Mashed Potatoes and Green Beans

Well, one doesn't often see a dinner this traditional on this blog- which brings up the question. If we rarely have a dinner this traditional, is it then actually nontraditional?
I think I just gave myself a Groundhog Day- worthy mindspin.
We'll use a (relatively) inexpensive eye of round for the beef, and Alton Brown's mashed potatoes, with pan roasted green beans. Here's the tricky thing about this (otherwise amazing) beef recipe: the oven is off for the last 3 hours of cook time, making baked sides (potatoes, rolls, roasted veggies) impossible. 

Thursday: Beef Pho

About 10 days ago, we came home from Dallas farmer's market with a sack of snow peas. They just sort of came home with us, even though they had no dinner to be a part of and now they're in danger of dying a furry death in the produce drawer.  I'll use them in place of the increasingly hard to find bean sprouts in this pho, and slice some of last night's beef paper thin, and pop it in the bowl at the last second- it needs time to warm, but letting it boil in the broth would make it tough.


Friday: Pan Roasted Salmon and Cinnamon Roasted Butternut Squash

Fish once a week for three weeks in a row! 
There's a cinnamon and chili powder rub on this salmon that looks very nice, and should pair beautifully with the sweetness of the the roasted squash. I'll be prepping and cooking extra squash and saving the leftovers for a salad on Sunday.




Saturday: Leftover Beef Fajitas, Black Beans and Rice

See the marinade that Ree Drummond uses in this fajita recipe? I may make about half of that and soak slices of leftover roast in it before I give them a high heat stir fry. Here's the thing- that pan has got to be smokin' hot and I have got to be patient enough to throw in only a few slices at a time. If I get impatient and don't let the skillet heat sufficiently, or crowd the skillet with meat, all those yummy juices will release into the pan, and we'll end up with stewed beef fajitas. Eww.  I'll be opening canned seasoned black beans and warming them up to go alongside.


Sunday: Butternut Squash and Black Bean Salad

What a beautiful salad! Any leftover black beans will be rinsed and used here, as well as the leftover roasted squash. If there's any beef leftover, we may make this a more substantial meal by using it to make a sandwich or two. Frugal, nutritious, tasty and pretty. This is the way to give old food a fresh start.

And I hope this week is full of fresh starts.
I hope that  things that feel like endless loops
turn into a chance to press reset.
Because groundhog day, or any day
Is a good day to start something new
even if it's something old.
Even if it's something as old as Wednesday
I hope it's as new as today-
and that today gives you a chance,
and then another, and another
to do your life

happier than ever after.

weekend update January 5 2014

In the depths of winter, I finally learned

 that within me there was an invincible summer.

Albert Camus

Darkness has a bad reputation. Over the course of linguistic evolution, it's become the closet into which we shove all of the things we fear and dislike-selfishness, gloominess, evil, despair- they're all called, well, dark. 

This is perhaps a little unfair.

I mean, when we want applaud something that is really fast, we say it moves at the speed of light- even though the thing that is really really really fast is darkness, because no matter how fast the light is, 

dark is always ahead of it, waiting for it to catch up.
Granted, "faster than the speed of dark" 
just doesn't have the right ring to it.

We speak with admiration of those who walk in the light, though real awe ought to be reserved for anyone who can walk in the dark without stubbing a toe

or stepping on a Lego.

And we've been told, "better to light a candle than curse the darkness", but there are quite a few of us who have endured hours of outages this winter who know that if you're decently clever with matches and indecently clever with cursing,

there's no reason you can't do both at the same time.

Such were the thought clouds drifting across the old brainscape as the sun set, giving the first evening of the year all its pink and gold best, and the stars twinked into place above the pine trees of my mother's East Texas home on New Year's day night.  The grownups otherwise known as our children were there, and would be playing with fireworks later that night.  The thought occurred that as they lit the fuses and ran, they'd be joining the human hordes of millennia in celebrating light. Or darkness. Or both.
 We humans have a way of pushing back against the dark in spectacular ways; we regulate it with daylight savings time, we whistle in it's face (literally and metaphorically) and in the dead of winter, when the longest nights of the year are throwing their deepest and darkest into the effort, all over the world we hold festivals of light.

This sort of thing makes me really fond of humanity.
(and gives me yet another dream travel itinerary.)

Those were the thoughts, and they would've gone on to poke under dark metaphorical rocks and peek at the beasties that haunt dark metaphorical closets, but there was a very nice smell doing a very nice job of wafting from the house, and it pulled me by the nose straight to a great New Year's Day dinner.

That's the ham my Mother can bake.
Every bit as juicy and tender as it looks.
someday, when I grow up, I may be able to do that too.

That was the start of five days of food with which we wish for a Happy New Year- here are the things worth trying again:

This slow cooker lentil stew was really great!

Upsides: 

 Easy to pull together, a relatively fast cook (about 6 hours on low).

A fantastic buttery smell that filled the house (how did that happen without butter in the recipe?) 

A super rich flavor, and

Awesome healthful greatness.

Not quite downsides but things to nonetheless be aware of:

This recipe makes mass quantities- be ready to either feed a crowd, or stash away leftovers.

The veggies and the greens cook together with the lentils, which deals the proverbial cabosh to any plans to use some of the cooked lentils for another meal. Unless the other meal is leftover lentil stew.

Next, the roast pork loin stuffed with figs and herbs. And I quote from the recipe: 

"We make this recipe a lot at home. It has the ‘I slaved in the kitchen all day’ look, but really takes no time at all."

No time at all. Hmmm.
Define time.
Now define "no time at all".

I will concede that this recipe is a good time traveler. That is, if you want to, you can make the stuffing on one day, butterfly and pound and stuff the meat on the next day, and roast it right before dinner on the third day.

So no, you will not have "slaved in the kitchen all day", but you will noticeably work for parts of at least two days. Or for a several (or a few, or some, I'm never sure which is more)  hours on one day.

And you will have to figure out what to do if you don't have a mortar and pestle (hint: forget it). And you will have to remember where you put that roll of string.

It's a great tasting, beautiful recipe, but if you think that "no time at all" means that you can come home from work at 5 and have this dinner ready by 7, 

you are in for a very nasty surprise.

Here it is on a plate with Alton Brown's garlic mashed potatoes (yum!) and roasted pumpkin:

It's really kinda impressive, and that sausage and fig stuffing!
Wow!

Pork, noodles, dried beans and greens- edible and substantial wishes for serving after serving of good things ahead.

And that's my wish for you too.

Not just the food wishes- 

not just health and good fortune 

for the whole year, but for

This week, as the dreary weather

wears on

and the long nights wrap themselves

around your shortened days,

I hope you find within yourself,

shining in the middle of the darkness

the love and wonder and courage

that form the steady glow

of your own

invincible summer.

weekend update June 2, 2013

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal"

Winston Churchill

There are about 250,000 words in American English, about 50,000 of them in common use, and there are an average of 800 new words added to the language every year.

I present for your consideration new word 801: a word stitched together when no single word would do.

A word to describe most of what went on in and made it's way out of this unassuming kitchen this week.

 Satisfaction (fullfillment) + Gratification (enjoyment)  =

GRATISFACTION

It all started when something went right.

Something sort of like the best mashed potatoes I ever made.

The chicken decided strike a gruesomely underdone pose for this photo
but I assure you, not a single unpleasant surprise on the plate.

The next night brought another hit. A wild, unbelievable hit. 

This absolutely fun and amazing bread recipe that became the crust for our homemade pizza. 

 Know that I am not a novice at the bread baking game- I know all about the floury, rigourously kneaded, goo crusted, multiple bowl mess that it takes to produce most loaves of homemade bread. 

I've done the hair-dough hair-do too

So when I tell you that this wonderfully written, easy to follow, terrifically illustrated, brilliantly simple recipe is a bread winner, you can trust me. If you've never made bread before, this is where to start. If you've made bread and love the result but hate the work, try this method and prepare to have your mind blown.
 The recipe is intended to be made into a round loaf, but I smashed the dough into a sort of pizza shape before the second rising, then sauced it and topped it, and here it is-

A side view is the only way to truly appreciate the bubbly layers
of yeasty chewy goodness created by this recipe.

Two up at bats, two solid hits. And on the third night....

The end of the search for a great homemade salsa

Tilt your noses back earthward, salsa snobs- I too know the labor intensive pleasures of a farmer's market fresh bowl of pico. But jarred or fresh, I've not tasted the equal of  this easy-peasy cheap and breezy salsa recipe.  I reduced the quantities to one can of fire-roasted diced tomatoes and  one can of tomatoes and chilies, simply because I didn't want a huge mixing bowlful of the unknown and untested. The only other change I made was the substitution of a spoonful of chipotle for the jalapeno. Because it was just easier than prepping the jalapeno.
Oh, that's not true.
I confess,I just can't take the heat.   I may have grown up in the south, but  I am a bit of a wuss when it comes to spicy heat.
I'm a great big spice baby. Hmm...perhaps I should clarify that.

NOT a great big baby spice               a great big whimpers-at-a-jalapeno spice baby.

Whether you go for the bright fire of a jalapeno or the deeper, milder burn of chipotle, think about trying this out. We were so smitten with it that we only stopped scooping it up when we ran out of chips. And then we put it on burgers, and then we put it on eggs for breakfast. 

So it was with a confident swagger that I approached the plate with an idea for a substitution. An idea to use a self-concocted mix of gluten free flours for half of the wheat flour in the no-knead bread recipe.

She swings.....she strikes.

As it turns out, expecting gluten free flour to do what wheat flour does in a yeast bread is a little like, well,

"Yes you DO smell nail polish remover.
 Yes I DID use it to top up the tank.
What? Well, it OUGHT to work! 
It's just as clear and smelly and
 flammable as gasoline!"

The result was....edible when warm and buttered.

And the next day, there was the bacon for the wedge salad, sizzling happily toward golden crispiness when the dryer buzzed. So, of course, I emptied the dryer, and then loaded the washer, and folded a few towels before I remembered.... the bacon! A little too late. Perhaps you're one of those who know that cookie batches stopped burning themselves around here the day that I learned to use a (very loud)  kitchen timer.
 Now, if only someone would invent a timer that would alert me before the bacon burns...

Oh wait.
They have. It's called
STAYING IN THE KITCHEN
WHEN SOMETHING'S COOKING ON THE STOVE!

The home audience was kind enough to declare it the sort of extra crispy bacon he especially liked.
 (The home audience is justly famous for the speed with which he can come up with these gracious little falsehoods.)

A couple of instructive, non-fatal failures aside, it was a week of gratifying effort that yielded way more than satisfying results. 

And that's what I hope for your week too.

I hope that the pieces of this week fit together on the first try.

I hope that when you try something new this week, it exceeds your expectations.

And I hope that this week, whether you find yourself creating

a spread or a spreadsheet, 

you can take a step back, admire the work of your hands

and tell yourself, with deep gratisfaction,

" Yeah, I made that."