Menus, March 18,2014

“Those who don't learn from history 
are doomed to repeat it.” 

Edmund Burke

The thing is, sometimes what you learn from history is so pleasant that it bears repeating- for instance-

once you learn how good one cookie is,
you keep wanting to repeat the lesson, don't you?

For the next two weeks, I'll be delving into dinner history, reworking and retrying menus from last spring and summer, while I devote some concentrated time to a few writing projects that are just nearly as much fun as this little blog- 

let's start with the post that introduced me to what has become my go-to way to cook chicken breast, the glorious, ever-reliable honey and salt brine.

Happy history, from March 2013-

I love you like meat loves salt.

folktale type 923

Cozy up and pour yourself a warm beverage- I have an old and unoriginal story to tell you. A story so old, so unoriginal, that it has it's own section in the codex of  fairytales and folklore. A story so old and unoriginal that if I only knew how, I could tell it as it was told in old English, Shakespearean English, German, French, Italian, the languages of ancient India and Pakistan....I could even tell as it's been told on the breezy porches of Appalachia a century ago.....

Once upon a time, there was a king who was flattered and coddled for so long that he became stupid and foolish

as evidenced in part by his tolerance of  the royal barber's
practice of  the "courtier cut".
.

One Saturday (Saturday being the day his ego most often needed reinflating) he gathered his lovely daughters to his side, and in front of an audience, asked each one to tell him how much they loved him.
The two eldest heaped the praised high and deep- each loving him more than the other until the king their father was loved more than air or water or wealth or their even own husbands.

and the crowd went wild.
No, really-  people love emotional overload.

Then came the turn of the king's youngest daughter,

a slightly more thoughtful sort.

"Father", she said simply, "I love you as meat loves salt".
A statement so honest simple that it took everyone by surprise, and disappointed her father the king, who preferred his lovin' on the flashy flowery side.
No, she did not love him more than life, or more than her husband; she loved him exactly as a daughter ought to love a father. 

It was a statement for which she was banished from her father's sight and kingdom.

Because contrary to popular opinion,
honesty is a rather dicey policy.

Not to worry- although in Shakespeare's King Lear the whole mess ends badly, in most versions our young heroine sneaks into the castle's kitchen on the night of a great feast and persuades the cook to prepare the entire meal without salt. In a flash of rare and remorseful insight the king realizes the depth of his daughter's love and, well...

hugs and happiness ensue

 I heard a version of this story for the first time back when the earth was cooling, and this-

was fancy salt.
(it was fancy because it wasn't the store brand)

  But now! well! First came this prezzie, all the way from Denver CO:

A gift that smells and tastes so yummy- but how best to use it?

And what's up with all the different salts available now? 

These and other questions sent me to the information streams of the internet, and the nearest Central Market. I gathered more questions from the internet, and from the market, I gathered these:

And I set myself to learn the  differences between finishing salt, brining salt, kosher salt.....I want to taste it all

So I did what any curious salt and carb loving woman would do. I started a Buffy marathon, popped a pot of popcorn, and didn't stop munching till I'd tried all the salts.

The things I do in my relentless pursuit of knowledge.
Remarkable.

You can learn more than I could ever tell you about salts from these articles at Food 52, Real Simple and Rachael Ray. Or, you could combine your love of history with your passion for food and read this uber interesting looking book about the way salt has shaped the world we live in. Me? 

I can tell you that a pinch of smoked salt on an omelette or a sandwich boosts it into realms of stratospheric awesomeness, and that fluer de sel has the punchiest taste and the the most wonderful texture of all the salts that I tried. And I can also tell you that dinner this week is not for those under rigid sodium restrictions, because I'm playing in the kitchen with my new best friend, salt.

Wednesday:Honey Brined Chicken breast

Once the chicken breasts are brined, I'll pound them and pan fry them in a little olive oil. I'll be pan roasting a few beets that are in the fridge,  and warming up some lefover Cheesy Polenta. I'll be making enough chicken for a stir fry on Saturday.

Thursday:Salted beef tenderloin and salted baked potatoes

Alton Brown, I'm putting several dollars worth of beef, some time, my blood pressure and dinner into your capable hands. If you say it's good, I'm ready to believe you. I'll be using the leftovers later for beef burritos

The internet loves these baked potatoes! I'll be sure to update you on whether or not they're worth the extra step.

Friday:chicken and asparagus stir fry
I'll use the chicken leftover from Wednesday here, along with some
asparagus that's on sale at Kroger (asparagus is on sale pretty much everywhere right now). I know that cashews are an expensive addition, but I super duper love them in stirfrys, so I'm doin' it.








Saturday: Whole fish baked in a salt crust 
always a chance here that I may find a new way to like fish. Hope so! Depending on how cold it is outside, I'll either put this together with a box of grape tomatoes pan roasted in some olive oil and balsamic vinegar, or a simple salad.

Sunday: Beef Fajitas and salsa
 I'm jonesing a little for the salsa at Tin Star, so I may try this recipe with any leftover tomatoes from last night. And I'll probably stir up a little Rodrigo style sauce too.










You've realized what the king realized, haven't you, on the night of the tasteless feast? That in seven simple words, his daughter had told her father that she savored her life more because of he was a part of it.
I wonder what it is that you love the way that meat loves salt.
What it is that adds flavor and zest and color to your life.
Maybe that stack of books by your bed.
Maybe the that puppy that spins in happy circles every time you come home.
Maybe (if you're lucky) there are a few people on that list too
And I hope that this week you get a moment or two to gaze quietly at those who are near and hold clearly in your imagination those who are far and think about how flavorless your life would be without them.
I hope you have a moment to think about the laughter and wonder  and astonishment with which they season your days.
And I hope that you can hug them close, and smile into their eyes as they smile into yours and hear yourself saying

i love ya like salt.
And i hope you hear it back.

Weekend Update January 13, 2014

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. 

Dr. Seuss

I love Dr. Seuss. Really. Lines from his books, lodged in the brain after years of reading them aloud, still give me comfort and courage. Except.  Except here's a thing about making resolutions, choosing directions and  steering new courses. You write them down on ruled lines and plot them directly from point A to point B but after not very much time you realize that resolutions are like spaghetti- they start out straight and smooth and simple, but dunk them in hot water,

and they get a little tangley.

Take, as a teensy microcosmic example, this little blog. Last week, my mind was occupied with the phenomenon of resolution rebound. That is, the thing that happens when you try to shape your life around a negative

Surely you've seen it- someone spends the energies of her most energetic years determined to NOT, NEVER, NO WAY be like her mother, and one day she calls you to laugh or cry over the thing you already knew-

she is an awful lot like her mother.
Of course, if  her mom has loads of style,
this is may not be a horrifying revelation.
(I mean, pink with red hair in
the 50's! What a woman!)

Last week, the thought occurred that resolves get results when they're shaped around what you love. Which is not as easy as it sounds.

Because the world is filled with lots and lots of things to love.   What if, for instance, you love the things that a fit and healthy body can do for you,

but you never met a cookie you couldn't fall
in love with?

  Or, say you resolve to up the healthy eating around here with a positive plan for Meatless Mondays and  Fishy Fridays, but then things you love ever so much more than a plan come to town?

You flex the plan,
and direct yourself toward
the things you love best of all.

 Early in the week, dlife Cabbage Soup went off without a hitch,

super easy, super tasty

 Two notes:  1) My friend Ester was right- throwing a sliced  low fat sausage into this soup makes it even better.

2) The raisins! Weird as it seems, don't leave them out- they add a wonderful mellow sweetness to the soup, and plump up and sink out of sight to the bottom of the pot. Which is nice. Because, as it turns out, though raisins may make this soup taste good, they are even more unattractive waterlogged and bloated

than they are when they're
all shrively.

 Then the  arrival of our son and his girlfriend took the weekend in a happily different direction.  Suddenly a plain plank of baked salmon wasn't nearly fun enough, so our first fishy Friday slipped off the hook. But  this absolutely fantastic coconut soup and this great Pad Thai recipe came together and turned Fishy Friday into Thaiday Friday. 

Next came a night of plowing through the fridge for leftovers- let's call it Salvage Saturday.

Which meant no leftover chicken or fish for today.

So our fish tacos were made, for the first time ever, with firstover fish- turning today into a great Salmon Sunday!

What a great recipe! Here are the chunks of (very cheap frozen) salmon in a zip bag with cumin and chili powder:

And in the pan, after a very short (about 6 minutes) sear in a hot pan:

And on a tortilla with the last of my Mother's East Texas Cabbage, avocados, jack cheese and Rodrigo sauce

Upside: One week into the new year, and I have not yet totally busted the let's-have-fish-once-a-week plan.

Downside: These tacos were so good that tacos with leftover fish will from now on and forever seem not quite as good.

Meh.  As the downside of this week's foodventures, I can live with that.

I hope the downsides of your week are easy to live with-

And I hope that what you need more of

 lies within easy reach and

what you need less of 

falls away gently.

I hope all the things you wish for 

surrender graciously to all the things you love best.

And that the path 

down which your loves lead you

is full of happy adventure.

Menus, October 15, 2013

"To everything there is a season,

 and a time to every purpose under heaven."

Pete Seeger (via Ecclesiastes) 

Did you know that oranges ripen in winter? Or that in the top end of Australia, there's a season refered to as Mango Madness because the harvest of mangoes corresponds with weeks of insanity inspiringly oppressive heat and humidity? Of course you knew that if you only ate the corn and tomatoes that grew near you, they would by now be a dim and glorious summer memory. But it's easy to forget all that. 

It's easy to forget that if it weren't for modern fruit teleportation devices, our diets would be tied with double knots to the calendar. 
Until October, and the giddy arrival of wonders that you absolutely, positively cannot get at any other time of year. I'm talking of course about the elixer that is the true reason that the Headless Horseman terrorized Colonial New England.  He wasn't out to avenge himself on American Revolutionaries,

He was trying to order a quad venti nonfat
 pumpkin spice latte.

Finally, it's here. It's  really, truly  Ahhhhctober. And it's wonderful. At this moment, I'm sipping an espresso laced with my first attempt at a homemade pumpkin spice syrup, and for the second day in a row an intended trip to our local pumpkin patch has been postponed because of rain.  

Me, and many other Texans, complaining about
3 days of rain.

My Australian friends taught me long ago that pumpkins are not just for pie, they're for salads, soups, sides, mains... in fact ever since our stay in that lucky country, around here winter squash season is a full on, vitamen A loaded, beta carotine packed

PUMPKALOOZA!!!!!

Winter squashes (henceforth called pumpkins, because it's less typing) are some of the most interesting, versatile, flavorful, nutrient dense vegetables you're ever going to get your knives on. Well, technically, they're a fruit, but we're going to think of them as veggies, because to do otherwise feels like a sort of foodie smugercize. Most of the varieties you see at your local pumpkin patch or nursery or grocery store are delicious eating, the most notable exception being those pumpkins that are bred not for taste, but for size and color: jack-o-lantern pumpkins. Here are a few  great charts that'll help with choosing pumpkins that will work as both decoration and dinner. Tomorrow, Thursday, Friday, whenever the rain stops, I'll be row, row, rowing my boat up the street to look for these:

cheese

cinderella

delicata

Red Kuri

lady godiva
(for the shell-less seeds)

Queensland blue

Apologies for the glitch in the picture arranging skills- but whether my collage making software is working or not (and I'll find a way to repay you for that wasted hour, Picasa) all of these are excellent for all kinds of cooking and will keep for ages. So while they're waiting to be cooked into soups or breads or other sustaining foodstuffs, they'll be making the fireplace hearth look all harvest-festey. Hmm. For some reason this home dec/home cooking plan seems a little cannibalistic.

 But I think I can find a way to live with that.

And here's what we'll be doing with those pumpkins as their respective numbers come up:

Wednesday: Rodrigo style fish and Sauteed green beans

A little Tilapia both to balance out the rest of the week, and because I have some cilantro that needs to be used, and there's hardly a better use for cilantro than Rodrigo sauce. The green beans will be sauteed from frozen (if you can find frozen whole green beans, they seem to handle this sort of treatment more willingly than other cuts) and topped with the Rodrigo sauce as well. Don't worry about leftover green beans, there's a stirfry a'comin' at the end of the week.

Thursday: Pumpkin Stuffed with everything good and pork chops

There may be a few good things that do not form the stuffing of this super yummy looking dish- shoes, hairbows, earrings, smiles from people who still have all their baby teeth, but there's a whole lot of good stuff that did find it's way in. I may pay dues to the gods of gluten free and substitute a wild rice mixture for the bread.
The pork chops! Brining pork chops! why didn't I think of that! The good ol' honey/salt brine should work well here. There are uses ahead for both the leftover pumpkin and the leftover chops, but I'm still going to use a relatively small variety of pumpkin for this.

Friday: Pumpkin enchiladas

Spooning the filling out of the leftover stuffed pumpkin before it's put away will make the cooked pumpkin easily available for these absolutely fantastic looking enchiladas. A jar of tomatillo sauce will stand in for the homemade variety, and a small salad of cherry tomatoes and avocados make make a surprise appearance.





Saturday: Cabbage soup and sausages

Cabbage soup recipes abound on the internet; this made the cut because it doesn't have potatoes. And potatoes, for some reason, sounded less than awesome today.  If there's still any leftover pumpkin, it would add a wonderful flavor to this soup; if that happens, it will be the last pumpkin of the week. For real. I'm resolved to pace my pumpkin passion and try to limit myself to two squash-centric meals a week until the season's over. Whole foods has put all kinds of unusual and creative sausage varieties in the meat cases for October and a few of them would be perfect with soup. If whole foods doesn't happen (it's a bit of a drive), Aidell's Chicken and apple sausages have never let me down, and are easily available. Oh, cut up a little extra cabbage and a few extra carrots and put them in a zip bag for tomorrow's stir fry if you want to.



Sunday: Pork stir fry 

The leftover pork chops, any leftover green beans, shredded cabbage and carrots can all jump in on this party. Only remember, stirfries are at their best when everything cooks quickly. Think energetic four year old chasing a running dog fast. That means the pan has to get, and stay, hot. Think bare feet on a summer sidewalk hot. And that means no crowding the pan. Cook in batches just barely big enough to cover the bottom of the pan in a single layer, tip each batch into a bowl or onto a serving plate and let the pan regain is hotness mojo before you throw in the next batch. Then at the end, drizzle on the homemade or jarred sauce and give the whole thing a stir. 
 Okay. I may break my self imposed pumpkin pacing guideline and make a pumpkin dessert to go along with this light supper. Like maybe making muffins out of this terrific Pumpkin chocolate chip bread recipe. 
Because really, in a very few weeks, the pumpkin stands will disappear, so we'd all better enjoy the season while we can, right?

I hope that wherever you are, autumn is bringing you a harvest.
A heavy harvest of all things rich and warm-
the fruits of things you've planted 
and worked hard to keep alive.
I hope that the passion, curiosity, energy 
and all the love that summer nearly burnt up
and burnt out 
return to life 
and ripen for you in the days ahead.
And that these golden days
 bring you good, sweet, golden things

by the armful.

Weekend update, October 14, 2013

I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience, compassion. These three are your greatest treasures.

Lao Tzu

It was a week of simple pleasures - time, in person and by phone, with the beloveds, friendly weather,  a perfect burger at one of our local houses of awesome Bin 303 , and simple dinners that while maybe not crazy easy, were (almost all)

crazy satisfying.

Almost all.

Let's get the report on the simple-though-tricky, not-so-tasty out of the way, shall we?

Here is, the salmon that was supposed to be tuna that was baked when it should have been seared and the roasted broccoli with almonds that were supposed to be pine nuts.

The winner here was the broccoli, or rather, the lemon/basil/olive oil/toasted nut dressing on the broccoli. This mix is as yummy and versatile as pesto or the summer's fantastic discovery, rodrigo sauce.  We were counting up it's possible uses: as a dressing for greens, brussel sprouts, salads, fish....

The salmon? 
Well, it's just that I couldn't find affordable tuna steaks, and there were a few cheap salmon fillets left in the freezer, and the dishwasher was broken, and the idea of scrubbing seared salmon skin out of the frying pan was more than I could face. 
So, notch up another user error in the quest to perfectly not deep fry a simple piece of pescado. 
Ah well.

While it's true that the source of sophistication is simplicity,

the source of comedy is chaos.
And ours is sometimes a very funny kitchen.

Next up, scrambled eggs and pot roast, both recipes that are totally worthy of a full on kitchen crush. A few things they have in common: 
They both reward you for caring about perfection.
They both forgive you if you don't. 
They both have many, many versions of the best, most perfect, simplest way to get it right.
For instance, this is the Gordon Ramsay technique that enthralled me last week, here's Alton Brown's method, the method that Julia Child learned in France, scrambled eggs a la the kitchn, and from About.com's culinary art's page. All of them an improvement over the eggs I've been scrambling for the last few decades. I know because I tried them, and learned at least two things:
1.

The only wrong way is the way that leaves you
wishing you'd skipped the cholesterol and
gone for the muesli with skim milk.

2.

We are getting a non-stickier non-stick pan.
By the time I'd pried this clean, I'd forgotten
how good the eggs were.

3. Gordon's method with a little cream cheese is my personal favorite, though two of my taste testers would've preferred the curds a little larger and drier.
Here's this morning's batch of the About.com version. This is a recipe that requires lots of whisking and/or a go round with an electric mixer before cooking, and they were (to me) noticeably less tender than the eggs produced by the other methods.

That's them with pan roasted tomatoes, bacon and a loaf of
lazier than no knead bread.

Like the eggs, the Pioneer woman pot roast recipe linked to last Tuesday was only one of a dozen "perfect pot roast" recipes available. I could've chosen this mushroom soup spin from Paula Deen,  this crock pot version, or this one that calls itself a classic.

I've cooked some pretty dismal pot roasts in the past- slabs of lovingly prepared beef that were so tough and stringy that you could eat dinner and floss your teeth at the same time. 

Not so great for dinner, but maybe they prevented
a trip or two to the dentist.

But the Pioneer woman recipe was amazing! Limiting the vegetables to deliciously browned onions and carrots, the slow oven roasting, the deglazing with red wine....wow. The real wonder of this gem though is it's flexibility- at the last minute, I realized that I'd forgotten to get beef broth! I hunted through the fridge and pantry, chanting "I need an interesting liquid, I need an interesting liquid..." and eventually decided to take a chance with  beer. And it was really good:

The super tender leftover beef and amazing gravy turned into this the very next day.

Chicken broth from the freezer, mushrooms, more carrots,
celery and a can of diced tomatoes.
It felt like I was committing magic.

And there were even enough mashed potatoes and chicken broth to do this:

leftover mashed potatoes, chicken broth, the last of the crema mexicana,
broccoli, carrots and the last of a bag of shredded sharp cheddar.
Hah! take that, other simple things. I'll conquer you yet!

Even if they weren't exactly effortless- even if browning onions and stirring eggs is a little more effort- in the end, the simple goodness of scrambled eggs on a weekend morning and pot roast on a rainy night was reward enough for the effort. 

And I hope that very thing for you this week.

I hope for simplicity.

And patience when simplicity gives way to chaos.

And compassion in the face of failure.

(your own and everyone else's)

Because what you 

(and most of the rest of us)

are doing is simply trying

(and maybe not always trying our best, but trying)

to do our work,

and bring the people we love the things that they need.

and that 

is simply beautiful.