I found a garam masala mixture in the bulk section at Huckleberries in Hood River including cardamom, coriander, cloves, cinnamon, cumin, fennel and white pepper. It is not as spicy as curry mixtures with chilis.
It smelled quite pungent --- many Indians make their own to ensure strength and freshness. I bought enough to fill a small jar, and I also bought some turmeric, thinking I could substitute a mixture of the two for Mom, who objects if a curry is too spicy.
Spices such as those used in curry dishes can cut triglyceride levels by about one-third even if the meal is high in fat, according to a recent study at Penn State by researcher Sheila West, as quoted on NPR.
Her findings have been corroborated by cardiologist Ravi Dave at UCLA, who added that in addition to lowering triglycerides, insulin levels also dropped about 20 percent. Although other herbs and spices have these properties, he especially finds benefit in using curry. In India, the health benefits of spices are a part of Ayurvedic medicine.
As Mom is a diabetic who takes cholesterol-lowering drugs, I thought she could benefit from more of these spices in her diet. She already uses quite a bit of cinnamon.
Garam masala has healthful properties due to its combination of ingredients, which can vary by region and family tradition. In addition to cinnamon and coriander considered as useful in controlling blood sugar in diabetics, they are also anti-inflammatory.
Coriander has been found to lower cholesterol and can also be used for joint pain. Cumin contains iron, helps digestion and purportedly even helps fight cancer. Turmeric root powder is used in curry mixtures, and gives it the bright yellow color. Turmeric has curcumin, a strong anti-inflammatory, and is supposed to aid digestion in the bowel. Claims for its other health benefits include fighting arthritis, cancer, even Alzheimer's. Some say it also offers protection against cardiovascular and liver disease.
Ginger is another anti-inflammatory, and may be useful in fighting heart disease, cancer, Alzheimer's and arthritis. Bay leaf has antifungal and anti-bacterial properties.
Other ingredients in garam masala can include malabar leaves, nutmeg and star anise. The mixture can be toasted in the pan as the first step in cooking, or mixed with water, vinegar or coconut milk to make a paste to be added during cooking. It can also be added at the end of cooking to preserve more pungency.
I caught a whiff of the spice packages as I opened the cupboard yesterday, but decided I wouldn't make chicken tikka masala, as first planned. Mom is on a soup kick due to the cold weather and has been feeling a bit fragile. We had finished a batch of clam chowder, so I decided to make split pea soup. I veered a bit from Indian tradition by using Canadian bacon ends and pieces --- they are quite low in fat and add meaty flavor.
Split Pea Soup with Garam Masala
2 large carrots cut in 1/2" pieces
3 ribs celery, diced
1/2 yellow onion, chopped
1/2 green pepper, diced
4 cloves minced garlic
1 tsp. or so of freshly grated ginger
Add the above to a large dutch oven with 2 bay leaves and sweat the vegetables, stirring. Pour in the contents of a 32-ounce box of low-salt chicken broth, and chop 2/3 cup of the Canadian bacon ends and pieces, if used. Add a 1/2 tsp. Worcestershire, two grinds of black pepper, and 2 tsp. dried chives (optional).
Into the pot add 1 lb. split peas. Stir, reduce to a simmer and cover. When the peas begin to break up, check the moisture, adding 1-2 cups water or broth as needed. Toward the end of cooking, taste and add the appropriate amount of salt, plus 2 T. garam masala and 1 T. turmeric. Let the flavors blend and the split peas cook to the desired consistency. If you are tolerant of heat, add chili flakes or sriracha to taste. To make it even more spicy, you could add 1 chopped and seeded chili pepper with the vegetables at the beginning of cooking.
In a thicker version, this can also be served over brown basmati rice.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Spicy Peanut Sauce
I got hooked on potstickers with spicy peanut sauce while living in New York City,ordering them nearly every night from a small Asian restaurant near my apartment on 64th and 1st. They were redolent of all things flavorful and exotic. It was hard to make it up the four flights of stairs, hoping they would stay hot until I could open the carton and wield my chopsticks.
At the time, I was taking care of Papa Jo Jones, the original Basie drummer, and working for a jazz booking agency from 10 to 6. Papa's wants were simple --- a chicken leg, mashed potatoes and peas every night, with a pint of Hennessy and Jo Turner singing "Flip, Flop or Fly" on the record player.
Since leaving New York, I have tried to duplicate that potsticker recipe. I think I finally have it right.
My niece came to stay overnight following a job training in Portland. Teacher positions are scarce, and she was recently hired as a drug and alcohol prevention specialist. As a treat for her brother and housemates back in Baker City, she bought two orders of pho, one vegetarian, from a Portland restaurant. They were stashed in the refrigerator overnight, then packed on ice in an insulated bag for the long trip home. There is no pho in Baker City, nor is there any in this stretch of the Columbia Gorge. There is a dearth of pho, or Vietnamese, Thai or Chinese food, for that matter, between Camas and Hood River.
Realizing Missy's love of Asian cuisine, I decided to serve her my version of Potstickers in Spicy Peanut Sauce with Vegetables. It was a good call; the chili in the slow cooker wasn't nearly done.
For some reason, the grocery store in Stevenson often has discounted wonton wrappers in the vegetable department. I make potstickers, filling them with minced chicken breast, black bean/garlic paste, ginger and sesame oil. If I don't have wrappers or the time, the easy version is made with frozen chicken potstickers from Grocery Outlet in Camas($5.99). They are a freezer staple, acceptable for Mom's diet because they are low in fat. I make her version with low-fat peanut butter from Trader Joe's and erythritol or xylitol for a touch of sweetness. I discard the annoying flavor packets that come in the bag of frozen potstickers and make my own flavor accompaniments.
Here's my version of Spicy Peanut Sauce:
In a heavy saucepan, heat one can of low-salt chicken broth.
Add:
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp. grated fresh ginger (I keep it in the freezer and scrape it with a serrated knife)
the white part of 2 green onions, chopped; reserve the green tops
1 tsp. sesame oil
1 tsp. fish sauce
2 tsp. rice wine vinegar
1 tsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. sugar
2 T. chunky old-fashioned peanut butter --- I delve into the jar to avoid the peanut oil at the top and do not add it until the vegetables are nearly cooked.
Use one of these combinations for heat and savor:
1/2 tsp. dried chili flakes, added near the end of cooking
or 2 T. sweet chili sauce (in which case omit the sugar)
or 1 or 2 T. Sriracha
Vegetables:
1 carrot, julienned or coarsely grated, plus 1 medium or 2 small baby bok choy. Chop the white part and reserve the leafy parts for later in the cooking.
In my forays into Portland or Vancouver, I can find gai lan or broccoli rabe. Use 4-5 stems, chopped, instead of bok choy.
Other vegetable possibilities:
3-4 spears asparagus, chopped
Or add the quick and available vegetable version, 1/2 a package of frozen stir fry vegetables with asparagus or sugar pod peas.
Other options: 3-4 small whole dried shiitakes, soaked briefly (save the liquid to add to the sauce and chop the whole mushrooms once they are reconstituted, removing the stems. Or use a small handful of dried sliced shiitakes.)
2 T. coconut milk powder/3 T. low-fat coconut milk, avoiding the cream at the top.
2-3 Thai basil leaves; chiffonade.
To the heated broth and other ingredients, add 6-8 chicken potstickers. If they are frozen, add straight out of the freezer and simmer. Add the peanut butter toward the end of cooking while incorporating any reserved green leaves, stirring until a sauce is formed. Adjust the thickness with broth and check seasonings for heat and balance. Serve immediately in large shallow bowls with chopped green onion tops as garnish.
Other versions to use with the peanut sauce:
Instead of potstickers, briefly soak a handful of rice noodles or bean thread and add to the sauce after the vegetables have been cooking.
For a bigger batch to serve four or more people, use a large carton of broth instead of a can and double the other ingredients.
At the time, I was taking care of Papa Jo Jones, the original Basie drummer, and working for a jazz booking agency from 10 to 6. Papa's wants were simple --- a chicken leg, mashed potatoes and peas every night, with a pint of Hennessy and Jo Turner singing "Flip, Flop or Fly" on the record player.
Since leaving New York, I have tried to duplicate that potsticker recipe. I think I finally have it right.
My niece came to stay overnight following a job training in Portland. Teacher positions are scarce, and she was recently hired as a drug and alcohol prevention specialist. As a treat for her brother and housemates back in Baker City, she bought two orders of pho, one vegetarian, from a Portland restaurant. They were stashed in the refrigerator overnight, then packed on ice in an insulated bag for the long trip home. There is no pho in Baker City, nor is there any in this stretch of the Columbia Gorge. There is a dearth of pho, or Vietnamese, Thai or Chinese food, for that matter, between Camas and Hood River.
Realizing Missy's love of Asian cuisine, I decided to serve her my version of Potstickers in Spicy Peanut Sauce with Vegetables. It was a good call; the chili in the slow cooker wasn't nearly done.
For some reason, the grocery store in Stevenson often has discounted wonton wrappers in the vegetable department. I make potstickers, filling them with minced chicken breast, black bean/garlic paste, ginger and sesame oil. If I don't have wrappers or the time, the easy version is made with frozen chicken potstickers from Grocery Outlet in Camas($5.99). They are a freezer staple, acceptable for Mom's diet because they are low in fat. I make her version with low-fat peanut butter from Trader Joe's and erythritol or xylitol for a touch of sweetness. I discard the annoying flavor packets that come in the bag of frozen potstickers and make my own flavor accompaniments.
Here's my version of Spicy Peanut Sauce:
In a heavy saucepan, heat one can of low-salt chicken broth.
Add:
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp. grated fresh ginger (I keep it in the freezer and scrape it with a serrated knife)
the white part of 2 green onions, chopped; reserve the green tops
1 tsp. sesame oil
1 tsp. fish sauce
2 tsp. rice wine vinegar
1 tsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. sugar
2 T. chunky old-fashioned peanut butter --- I delve into the jar to avoid the peanut oil at the top and do not add it until the vegetables are nearly cooked.
Use one of these combinations for heat and savor:
1/2 tsp. dried chili flakes, added near the end of cooking
or 2 T. sweet chili sauce (in which case omit the sugar)
or 1 or 2 T. Sriracha
Vegetables:
1 carrot, julienned or coarsely grated, plus 1 medium or 2 small baby bok choy. Chop the white part and reserve the leafy parts for later in the cooking.
In my forays into Portland or Vancouver, I can find gai lan or broccoli rabe. Use 4-5 stems, chopped, instead of bok choy.
Other vegetable possibilities:
3-4 spears asparagus, chopped
Or add the quick and available vegetable version, 1/2 a package of frozen stir fry vegetables with asparagus or sugar pod peas.
Other options: 3-4 small whole dried shiitakes, soaked briefly (save the liquid to add to the sauce and chop the whole mushrooms once they are reconstituted, removing the stems. Or use a small handful of dried sliced shiitakes.)
2 T. coconut milk powder/3 T. low-fat coconut milk, avoiding the cream at the top.
2-3 Thai basil leaves; chiffonade.
To the heated broth and other ingredients, add 6-8 chicken potstickers. If they are frozen, add straight out of the freezer and simmer. Add the peanut butter toward the end of cooking while incorporating any reserved green leaves, stirring until a sauce is formed. Adjust the thickness with broth and check seasonings for heat and balance. Serve immediately in large shallow bowls with chopped green onion tops as garnish.
Other versions to use with the peanut sauce:
Instead of potstickers, briefly soak a handful of rice noodles or bean thread and add to the sauce after the vegetables have been cooking.
For a bigger batch to serve four or more people, use a large carton of broth instead of a can and double the other ingredients.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Grind it...
A year or so ago, I bought a used meat grinder at an antique store. It cost $20, and it's like one we had when I was a kid. It's aluminum, and only has one plate. It clamps on the side of a counter or table.
It was almost out of sight on the top of one of the kitchen cabinets, but I saw it while fetching the last quart of canned pears next to it.
Today, I got a piece of beef roast out of the freezer, thinking I might make stew. However, I was in the mood for something else, and decided to try grinding meat for meatloaf. I put the chunk of beef and two chicken breast tenderloins in the microwave on a low setting for a couple of minutes to take the edge off. Then I cut them into chunks and clamped the grinder to the edge of the kitchen table with two layers of kitchen towel to protect it. The towel was a good idea --- the only other time I used the grinder I had a mess on the floor below. I still soaked two paper towels and put an aluminum pie plate on the floor to catch the drips.
Also, the meat had more tendon tissue than I realized and I had to clear out the grinder holes a couple of times. It was harder work than I had thought to grind meat, I must admit.
I put one-third of a large onion in the grinder with a whole wheat bread heel to kind of clean it out, then put the ground meat into a covered casserole dish --- a rectangular bread pan was too small. I added another crumbled piece of whole wheat bread, garlic powder, Eggbeaters to total the equivalent of one or two eggs, a tsp. of good mustard, 1 tsp. of smoked paprika, 1/2 tsp. Worcestershire, and some dried chives.
To cover the top I concocted a mixture of ketchup, leftover cranberry sauce, a little mustard, more smoked paprika and garlic powder and spread it around, then baked it at 325 for about 45 minutes.
With roasted butternut squash and parsnip, it was a very comforting Sunday dinner. However, I must confess the rest --- I placed half the butternut in a Pyrex pie pan and halfway through the baking process, thought it needed a little moisture so added some(cold) broth. The Pyrex cracked along one side, and in the process of rescuing the squash, I burned the top of my hand in the oven. After numerous cold compresses and a bandage with triple antibiotic cream, I think I will mend, but my tears while hearing a repeat of the OPB concert of Tony Bennett duets were genuine. Aretha and Tony did me in, not to mention residual burn pain. Fortunately, I missed the Amy Winehouse duet --- perhaps they left it out --- which is probably a good thing, or I would have been a puddle on the floor.
It was almost out of sight on the top of one of the kitchen cabinets, but I saw it while fetching the last quart of canned pears next to it.
Today, I got a piece of beef roast out of the freezer, thinking I might make stew. However, I was in the mood for something else, and decided to try grinding meat for meatloaf. I put the chunk of beef and two chicken breast tenderloins in the microwave on a low setting for a couple of minutes to take the edge off. Then I cut them into chunks and clamped the grinder to the edge of the kitchen table with two layers of kitchen towel to protect it. The towel was a good idea --- the only other time I used the grinder I had a mess on the floor below. I still soaked two paper towels and put an aluminum pie plate on the floor to catch the drips.
Also, the meat had more tendon tissue than I realized and I had to clear out the grinder holes a couple of times. It was harder work than I had thought to grind meat, I must admit.
I put one-third of a large onion in the grinder with a whole wheat bread heel to kind of clean it out, then put the ground meat into a covered casserole dish --- a rectangular bread pan was too small. I added another crumbled piece of whole wheat bread, garlic powder, Eggbeaters to total the equivalent of one or two eggs, a tsp. of good mustard, 1 tsp. of smoked paprika, 1/2 tsp. Worcestershire, and some dried chives.
To cover the top I concocted a mixture of ketchup, leftover cranberry sauce, a little mustard, more smoked paprika and garlic powder and spread it around, then baked it at 325 for about 45 minutes.
With roasted butternut squash and parsnip, it was a very comforting Sunday dinner. However, I must confess the rest --- I placed half the butternut in a Pyrex pie pan and halfway through the baking process, thought it needed a little moisture so added some(cold) broth. The Pyrex cracked along one side, and in the process of rescuing the squash, I burned the top of my hand in the oven. After numerous cold compresses and a bandage with triple antibiotic cream, I think I will mend, but my tears while hearing a repeat of the OPB concert of Tony Bennett duets were genuine. Aretha and Tony did me in, not to mention residual burn pain. Fortunately, I missed the Amy Winehouse duet --- perhaps they left it out --- which is probably a good thing, or I would have been a puddle on the floor.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Zooming
Our neighbor helped remove the snow load from our roof, which took a good hour. The roof has a slight pitch and he had to work while sitting down. We paid him $40 and a fresh loaf from the oven of sourdough rye bread, which he said that he and his sister enjoyed.
Several days later, we still had a berm left from the snowplow and snow imprisoning Mom's van. I had shoveled out my four-wheel drive pickup and was able to get out of the driveway in granny gear to get to the post office and local store on a couple of forays, but Mom gets nervous if her van is encased is ice and snow too many days.
When Steve came back offering to help shovel out the front of Mom's van, I put on my Sorel boots and joined him. I broke off a long-handled scraper with brush on the first attempt to free the roof of Mom's van. I continued with the more truncated version as Steve used his snow shovel to dig our the front of the van (I had cracked the handle of our snow shovel on the first attempt to clear the walk).
He would not take additional cash for helping free the van, although he has been unemployed for months. I guess he thought $40 was enough to cover both jobs. Since he said he and his sister had enjoyed the rye bread, I asked if he would like some more homemade bread.
A nod and a smile told me I needed to set to work.
I got out my two batches of sourdough (the longstanding version plus the French batch my sister contributed), and decided to make a more traditional loaf of whole wheat bread.
After replenishing the starters, I added some spelt and twice as much whole wheat flour, as well as about 1/3 cup of gluten flour and another cup or so of unbleached white.
Spelt is an ancient grain that can be used like wheat. It is a good source of manganese, protein, copper, and zinc. Although some say that it can be used by people with celiac disease, my sister, a physican assistant and the mother of a celiac sufferer, begs to differ. For those without gluten intolerance, however, it is an excellent grain with good nutrition.
Triticum aestivum var. spelta. was originally grown around 5000 to 6000 B.C. It has been grown in Europe for over 300 years, and in North America for just over 100 years. It is prized for its nutty flavor and high protein content. I buy spelt flour in bulk, which is less expensive than it is in those packages sold in the health food stores.
This batch of bread also included about 2 T. of honey, and the same amount of agave syrup. I used 1 tsp. of quick-rising yeast in the initial batter before adding more flour. I have been guilty of not adding enough salt to bread dough, and made sure I put in 3/4 tsp. of sea salt after the initial rise as I worked in more flour.
This time, I decided to try something else in the bread dough, and it proved to be a winner. You could say I "Zoomed" it. As a kid, we often ate Zoom hot cereal, and I often cook it for Mom as an excellent source of fiber.
Originally called Power Cereal when it was first introduced by Fisher Baking Company, Zoom Cereal is distributed by Krusteaz, the pancake mix company that is based in Seattle.
I put in about 1/2 cup of the 100% whole wheat flakes, which are quick-cooking. I figured it would be less "leadening" than using cooked whole grain cereal, which I have used in other batches of bread and bagels.
I did not over-handle the resulting dough, and let it rise twice. Steve's loaf was deposited into a traditional loaf pan, slit in three quick motions along the top and sprinkled with sesame seeds. I formed the rest of the dough into a round loaf and placed it on the pizza stone, which I prepared with cooking spray and a little polenta.
Both loaves were periodically sprayed with water while in the oven at 400-425 degrees, and I also had a pan of water in the oven to keep things hydrated.
The resulting bread was moist, had spring and texture and was not overly leaden. Mom expecially enjoyed it because she doesn't like peasant loaves and their crackling crusts, which are hard for her to chew.
Zoom --- I will be back.
Several days later, we still had a berm left from the snowplow and snow imprisoning Mom's van. I had shoveled out my four-wheel drive pickup and was able to get out of the driveway in granny gear to get to the post office and local store on a couple of forays, but Mom gets nervous if her van is encased is ice and snow too many days.
When Steve came back offering to help shovel out the front of Mom's van, I put on my Sorel boots and joined him. I broke off a long-handled scraper with brush on the first attempt to free the roof of Mom's van. I continued with the more truncated version as Steve used his snow shovel to dig our the front of the van (I had cracked the handle of our snow shovel on the first attempt to clear the walk).
He would not take additional cash for helping free the van, although he has been unemployed for months. I guess he thought $40 was enough to cover both jobs. Since he said he and his sister had enjoyed the rye bread, I asked if he would like some more homemade bread.
A nod and a smile told me I needed to set to work.
I got out my two batches of sourdough (the longstanding version plus the French batch my sister contributed), and decided to make a more traditional loaf of whole wheat bread.
After replenishing the starters, I added some spelt and twice as much whole wheat flour, as well as about 1/3 cup of gluten flour and another cup or so of unbleached white.
Spelt is an ancient grain that can be used like wheat. It is a good source of manganese, protein, copper, and zinc. Although some say that it can be used by people with celiac disease, my sister, a physican assistant and the mother of a celiac sufferer, begs to differ. For those without gluten intolerance, however, it is an excellent grain with good nutrition.
Triticum aestivum var. spelta. was originally grown around 5000 to 6000 B.C. It has been grown in Europe for over 300 years, and in North America for just over 100 years. It is prized for its nutty flavor and high protein content. I buy spelt flour in bulk, which is less expensive than it is in those packages sold in the health food stores.
This batch of bread also included about 2 T. of honey, and the same amount of agave syrup. I used 1 tsp. of quick-rising yeast in the initial batter before adding more flour. I have been guilty of not adding enough salt to bread dough, and made sure I put in 3/4 tsp. of sea salt after the initial rise as I worked in more flour.
This time, I decided to try something else in the bread dough, and it proved to be a winner. You could say I "Zoomed" it. As a kid, we often ate Zoom hot cereal, and I often cook it for Mom as an excellent source of fiber.
Originally called Power Cereal when it was first introduced by Fisher Baking Company, Zoom Cereal is distributed by Krusteaz, the pancake mix company that is based in Seattle.
I put in about 1/2 cup of the 100% whole wheat flakes, which are quick-cooking. I figured it would be less "leadening" than using cooked whole grain cereal, which I have used in other batches of bread and bagels.
I did not over-handle the resulting dough, and let it rise twice. Steve's loaf was deposited into a traditional loaf pan, slit in three quick motions along the top and sprinkled with sesame seeds. I formed the rest of the dough into a round loaf and placed it on the pizza stone, which I prepared with cooking spray and a little polenta.
Both loaves were periodically sprayed with water while in the oven at 400-425 degrees, and I also had a pan of water in the oven to keep things hydrated.
The resulting bread was moist, had spring and texture and was not overly leaden. Mom expecially enjoyed it because she doesn't like peasant loaves and their crackling crusts, which are hard for her to chew.
Zoom --- I will be back.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Mortality
I've had two back-to-back reminders that life is fleeting. The usual joke: You start the morning by checking the obituaries and if your name isn't there, it's a good day.
My brother sent an emailed photo of a day lily with the same name as a rock group I sang with in the late 1960's. The name was a coincidence, but in the last couple of years I have exchanged infrequent emails and CD's with the former leader of the band in Maine. I forwarded the photo, but the email was returned. I knew his email was associated with his business; that was a bit worrying, so I Googled his name and located his obituary and a tribute page posted by his brother.
The next morning I had a call from my second cousin, who lives about 40 miles from here. I spent some time as a teen on her family's farm on the Kitsap Peninsula, and had enjoyed staying in contact with her mother, who was an author and amateur historian.
My second cousin had two brothers, both jokers and larger than life characters. I still remember riding in her brother's tiny 'clown car' to a lake near the farm to go swimming, singing along with Herman's Hermits at the top of our lungs.
Later, the older of her two brothers had a business selling Christmas trees in California and used a house I was sharing in Portland as a way station for his north-south trips. Several times, he showed up without notice, arms laden with groceries including steaks and bottles of wine. We cooked him dinner, and he enjoyed our company until leaving early the next morning. I knew about his disastrous engagement to a woman in California that had ended badly, devastating him and leaving him curled up into a ball, resulting in the first of several hospitalizations for depression. I only saw him a few times in the years following, once at a family reunion at the farmhouse. I still have photos of everyone lined up on the back stairs. Now his two sisters, who were estranged, are reconciling as their family has been reduced to two.
About five years ago, his younger brother was found dead of a heart attack at the bottom of the stairs. This death was deja vu all over again.
In spite of it being mid-December, the power was off. He was found crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, and although there was evidence of hard drug usage, his heart was definitely involved.
I have learned recently that several former lovers from my New York days have passed, but at least their music is still with us.
Will I leave a musical legacy? That seems less likely now.
Every day is a gift, as I have just been reminded again.
My brother sent an emailed photo of a day lily with the same name as a rock group I sang with in the late 1960's. The name was a coincidence, but in the last couple of years I have exchanged infrequent emails and CD's with the former leader of the band in Maine. I forwarded the photo, but the email was returned. I knew his email was associated with his business; that was a bit worrying, so I Googled his name and located his obituary and a tribute page posted by his brother.
The next morning I had a call from my second cousin, who lives about 40 miles from here. I spent some time as a teen on her family's farm on the Kitsap Peninsula, and had enjoyed staying in contact with her mother, who was an author and amateur historian.
My second cousin had two brothers, both jokers and larger than life characters. I still remember riding in her brother's tiny 'clown car' to a lake near the farm to go swimming, singing along with Herman's Hermits at the top of our lungs.
Later, the older of her two brothers had a business selling Christmas trees in California and used a house I was sharing in Portland as a way station for his north-south trips. Several times, he showed up without notice, arms laden with groceries including steaks and bottles of wine. We cooked him dinner, and he enjoyed our company until leaving early the next morning. I knew about his disastrous engagement to a woman in California that had ended badly, devastating him and leaving him curled up into a ball, resulting in the first of several hospitalizations for depression. I only saw him a few times in the years following, once at a family reunion at the farmhouse. I still have photos of everyone lined up on the back stairs. Now his two sisters, who were estranged, are reconciling as their family has been reduced to two.
About five years ago, his younger brother was found dead of a heart attack at the bottom of the stairs. This death was deja vu all over again.
In spite of it being mid-December, the power was off. He was found crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, and although there was evidence of hard drug usage, his heart was definitely involved.
I have learned recently that several former lovers from my New York days have passed, but at least their music is still with us.
Will I leave a musical legacy? That seems less likely now.
Every day is a gift, as I have just been reminded again.
Going Crackers
With the New Year came enforced respite in the form of a raging cold that isn't letting go. It's likely the result of all that frantic activity --- two sets of house guests, holiday meals and several vocal outings, as well as being out in raw weather.
Actually, we've been lucky. Other parts of the country have had major snow and freezing temperatures. My sister in Alaska has snow to the rafters. It was 21 the other morning in Atlanta, where Mom will be going for a couple of weeks in February. Here, we've only had two little dustings of snow. Ski areas on Mt. Hood have slush. We've had several sunny days and average temperatures in the 40's.
Due to a drippy nose, hacking cough and general malaise, I've been staying in and haven't gotten into town to replenish some of my usual pantry staples, including my favorite midnight snack, crackers.
There is a box of whole grain soda crackers on the shelf, but they don't count. I have my Laughing Cow (garlic and herb and blue cheese wedges) plus a chunk of Monterey jack, the other necessary snack components.
It's been years since I attempted homemade crackers. This is not the definitive batch --- there are a few things still to be ironed out --- but I have some satisfactory and reasonable facsimiles.
I started with about 2/3 a cup of cooked 8-grain cereal (Bob's Red Mill). Into the bowl went 3 T. of softened butter, 1/2 cup whole wheat flour, 1/2 cup unbleached flour, 1/4 tsp. soda, 1 tsp. onion powder, 1/2 tsp. garlic powder, 2 T. poppy seeds, 3 T. sesame seeds, 1 tsp. dill seed, 1/2 tsp. celery seed, 1/2 tsp. mustard powder, 1 tsp. Spanish smoked paprika, 1 tsp. sea salt, 1 tsp. Tony's Cajun seasoning, 1/3 cup grated parmesan, and fresh ground pepper. Add just enough buttermilk to barely moisten and gather ingredients into a ball. Cover and put in the refrigerator at least 1/2 hour.
Roll dough into 1" balls and flatten by hand, using more whole wheat flour if it is sticking. Place each flattened ball on parchment paper on a large sheet pan and flatten more. Place in a 300 degree oven at least 30 minutes. Check after 20 minutes, and lower the temperature to 275 if they seem to be browning ahead of schedule. Turn off the oven and let them stay there 10 minutes or so, then remove to a cooking rack. If they are still bendable and not that cracker-like, place in the oven at 275 for another 10-15 minutes. This is a "play it by ear" thing. If you don't flatten them enough, they will be a little doughy. They just need a little less moisture. You can also flatten out one sheet of dough and break it into pieces after it bakes.
I will be perfecting this process, but these are quite tasty.
Actually, we've been lucky. Other parts of the country have had major snow and freezing temperatures. My sister in Alaska has snow to the rafters. It was 21 the other morning in Atlanta, where Mom will be going for a couple of weeks in February. Here, we've only had two little dustings of snow. Ski areas on Mt. Hood have slush. We've had several sunny days and average temperatures in the 40's.
Due to a drippy nose, hacking cough and general malaise, I've been staying in and haven't gotten into town to replenish some of my usual pantry staples, including my favorite midnight snack, crackers.
There is a box of whole grain soda crackers on the shelf, but they don't count. I have my Laughing Cow (garlic and herb and blue cheese wedges) plus a chunk of Monterey jack, the other necessary snack components.
It's been years since I attempted homemade crackers. This is not the definitive batch --- there are a few things still to be ironed out --- but I have some satisfactory and reasonable facsimiles.
I started with about 2/3 a cup of cooked 8-grain cereal (Bob's Red Mill). Into the bowl went 3 T. of softened butter, 1/2 cup whole wheat flour, 1/2 cup unbleached flour, 1/4 tsp. soda, 1 tsp. onion powder, 1/2 tsp. garlic powder, 2 T. poppy seeds, 3 T. sesame seeds, 1 tsp. dill seed, 1/2 tsp. celery seed, 1/2 tsp. mustard powder, 1 tsp. Spanish smoked paprika, 1 tsp. sea salt, 1 tsp. Tony's Cajun seasoning, 1/3 cup grated parmesan, and fresh ground pepper. Add just enough buttermilk to barely moisten and gather ingredients into a ball. Cover and put in the refrigerator at least 1/2 hour.
Roll dough into 1" balls and flatten by hand, using more whole wheat flour if it is sticking. Place each flattened ball on parchment paper on a large sheet pan and flatten more. Place in a 300 degree oven at least 30 minutes. Check after 20 minutes, and lower the temperature to 275 if they seem to be browning ahead of schedule. Turn off the oven and let them stay there 10 minutes or so, then remove to a cooking rack. If they are still bendable and not that cracker-like, place in the oven at 275 for another 10-15 minutes. This is a "play it by ear" thing. If you don't flatten them enough, they will be a little doughy. They just need a little less moisture. You can also flatten out one sheet of dough and break it into pieces after it bakes.
I will be perfecting this process, but these are quite tasty.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Lower East Side Supper
It's all Mark Bittman's fault. I was trying to download his video about kasha and varnishkes from the New York Times site, but it got hung up at the same spot three times. I decided to venture forth anyway, and while I was at it, do a bit of a variation on the kosher dish he was trying to recreate from his childhood.
There is a vegetable market in Vancouver, Wash., owned by Russians. They cater to their countrymen and other bargain hunters. Among the items I snagged there was a bag of buckwheat groats --- kasha. I thought I might try to grind the kasha into flour for buckwheat sourdough pancakes.
The package has languished on the shelf at least six months. The Bittman bit got me reminiscing about the Lower East Side and the ethnic restaurants I used to patronize when I lived in New York City. The cuisine of Alphabet City cafes then tended toward comfort food from the Ukraine and Eastern European Ashkenazis, also Russians who hadn't yet made it to Brooklyn. Kasha and varnishkes was the side dish that occasionally was offered, and it was tasty.
According to Bittman before his image fragmented into nothingness, onions are semi-caramelized in a heavy Dutch oven. Also, kasha is toasted after being anointed with beaten egg (I used Eggbeaters). I managed to accomplish the task in a heavy cast iron skillet, using about two cups of buckwheat groats. He used schmaltz; I used 2 tsp. of canola.
On the back burner simmered about a quart of broth including gleanings from a batch of chicken soup fortified with canned broth, plus some dried and canned shiitake and mixed mushrooms and cooked celery and carrot pieces from the soup.
I know it's not especially kosher, but I added a half cup of white wine to the mushroom/stock mixture. I also minced two cloves of garlic into the giant sweet onion that was softening with the splash of white wine. As the onions became soft, I threw in the kasha, plus about a cup and a half of uncooked multi-colored bowtie pasta. Then I poured the broth and vegetable mixture into the contents of the dutch oven. I covered it and baked it in the oven at 350 about 40 minutes.
Meanwhile, not wanting to waste oven heat and feeling the need for additional protein, I opened a can of Alaska salmon. After draining the liquid (I used to give it to the cat but now she turns up her nose), I removed the bones and skin, crushed four multi-grain crackers into the loaf pan, adding a few panko crumbs and the two-egg equivalent of Eggbeaters, plus onion powder, garlic, a tsp. of dillweed, about a half tsp. of parsley, some chives and a little Spanish smoked paprika. The loaf pan joined the kasha casserole in the oven; they came out about the same time.
Mom pronounced the meal "unusual but good." Not bad for a Monday night supper.
There is a vegetable market in Vancouver, Wash., owned by Russians. They cater to their countrymen and other bargain hunters. Among the items I snagged there was a bag of buckwheat groats --- kasha. I thought I might try to grind the kasha into flour for buckwheat sourdough pancakes.
The package has languished on the shelf at least six months. The Bittman bit got me reminiscing about the Lower East Side and the ethnic restaurants I used to patronize when I lived in New York City. The cuisine of Alphabet City cafes then tended toward comfort food from the Ukraine and Eastern European Ashkenazis, also Russians who hadn't yet made it to Brooklyn. Kasha and varnishkes was the side dish that occasionally was offered, and it was tasty.
According to Bittman before his image fragmented into nothingness, onions are semi-caramelized in a heavy Dutch oven. Also, kasha is toasted after being anointed with beaten egg (I used Eggbeaters). I managed to accomplish the task in a heavy cast iron skillet, using about two cups of buckwheat groats. He used schmaltz; I used 2 tsp. of canola.
On the back burner simmered about a quart of broth including gleanings from a batch of chicken soup fortified with canned broth, plus some dried and canned shiitake and mixed mushrooms and cooked celery and carrot pieces from the soup.
I know it's not especially kosher, but I added a half cup of white wine to the mushroom/stock mixture. I also minced two cloves of garlic into the giant sweet onion that was softening with the splash of white wine. As the onions became soft, I threw in the kasha, plus about a cup and a half of uncooked multi-colored bowtie pasta. Then I poured the broth and vegetable mixture into the contents of the dutch oven. I covered it and baked it in the oven at 350 about 40 minutes.
Meanwhile, not wanting to waste oven heat and feeling the need for additional protein, I opened a can of Alaska salmon. After draining the liquid (I used to give it to the cat but now she turns up her nose), I removed the bones and skin, crushed four multi-grain crackers into the loaf pan, adding a few panko crumbs and the two-egg equivalent of Eggbeaters, plus onion powder, garlic, a tsp. of dillweed, about a half tsp. of parsley, some chives and a little Spanish smoked paprika. The loaf pan joined the kasha casserole in the oven; they came out about the same time.
Mom pronounced the meal "unusual but good." Not bad for a Monday night supper.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Thankfully and collectively speaking
This Thanksgiving was spent both alone and at a community gathering --- Mom was in Baker City and both vehicles were not in shape to safely convey me to my sister's gathering near Eugene. The afternoon was instead spent in the company of a cross-section of local humanity invited to share a potluck repast, from homeless David with his faithful dog tied up out front, who helped scrape the plates after dinner, to congenial table companions including my old boss, who helped out afterward with the dishes. All were brought together through the tireless generosity and ingenuity of a supermarket checker and her friends, some recruited from the checkout line. She has done a community dinner several years now, inviting all who wish to participate. The lower level at the American Legion Hall was packed and everyone had plenty to share, followed by a surfeit of Bingo. A tweaker and her boyfriend pecked at the delicious repast at the back of the hall. A notorious child molester was there with her former victim-turned-husband and his sundry family members, she wearing overalls and hair recently chopped and dyed a violent fuschia. Two sheriff's deputies were loading up plates to go, with the engine running and their radio sharing 911 dispatches in the parking lot. The spread included at least three platters of turkey, five kinds of dressing, four variations on cranberry sauce, vegetables, salads and enough pumpkin pie for all.
Although dinner was advertised as beginning at 2:30 p.m., everyone was digging in at 2:25 when I arrived in the pouring rain, bearing my contributions in cardboard boxes covered with kitchen towels. I brought a green tomato mincemeat upside-down cake with roast pears and apples, still warm from the oven; oven-roasted spicy cauliflower with a dash of harissa and Spanish smoked paprika; olives; and a wild rice/brown basmati and wild mushroom pilaf.
We ate some of the leftovers again today for Sunday dinner, with oven-roasted parsnips and a half an Alaskan king salmon that had loitered in the freezer, baked in a mixture of my sister's mustard/honey glaze plus ginger, soy sauce, garlic and wine.
Pilaf on the Wild Side
This aromatic pilaf was made with basmati brown rice and wild rice, several kinds of mushrooms, sunchokes/Jerusalem artichokes from my garden, shallots, chicken broth, and toasted pecans.
It can be made using fresh domestic and/or wild mushrooms, such as fresh crimini, button or portabellas, fresh or dried shiitakes, porcini, chanterelles, morels, or black trumpets in any combination. If using dried mushrooms, reconstitute by adding a little warm water, cover and microwave on medium heat 30 seconds. Let stand a minute, then uncover and chop, destemming shiitakes and saving the liquid. Kitchen scissors work great for this chore.
2 T. butter or olive oil, or combination of the two
1 tsp. dark sesame oil
3 chopped shallots
3 medium or 2 large Jerusalem artichokes/sunchokes, roughly chopped
1 cup basmati brown rice
1/2 cup wild rice
2-1/2 cups low salt chicken broth
1/2 cup mushroom soaking liquid, strained, or equal amount chicken broth, apple cider, or water
1/4 cup dry white wine (or add the same amount of other liquids)
2 T. soy sauce
2 good grinds black pepper
2 cloves garlic, put through press
1/2 cup chopped pecans, toasted lightly
Heat the butter/olive oil and sesame oil in an enamel dutch oven or heavy large saucepan, add mushrooms, chopped shallots, Jerusalem artichokes and garlic and stir for 1-2 minutes at high heat but do not totally brown. Add the wild and brown rice and continue to stir about 3 minutes, or until the rice is turning translucent. Add chicken broth, wine, mushroom soaking liquid and soy sauce, reduce heat and simmer covered on low about 45 minutes. Check rice for doneness, adding more liquid, if needed. Add toasted pecans and freshly ground pepper. Stir and cook another minute or two.
To toast nuts, spread in a single layer on a baking pan or cookie sheet. Toast in a 350° oven, stirring occasionally, 10 to 15 minutes. You could also toast them in an ungreased heavy skillet over medium heat, stirring until golden brown and aromatic, but watch them carefully and remove immediately from the pan.
Although dinner was advertised as beginning at 2:30 p.m., everyone was digging in at 2:25 when I arrived in the pouring rain, bearing my contributions in cardboard boxes covered with kitchen towels. I brought a green tomato mincemeat upside-down cake with roast pears and apples, still warm from the oven; oven-roasted spicy cauliflower with a dash of harissa and Spanish smoked paprika; olives; and a wild rice/brown basmati and wild mushroom pilaf.
We ate some of the leftovers again today for Sunday dinner, with oven-roasted parsnips and a half an Alaskan king salmon that had loitered in the freezer, baked in a mixture of my sister's mustard/honey glaze plus ginger, soy sauce, garlic and wine.
Pilaf on the Wild Side
This aromatic pilaf was made with basmati brown rice and wild rice, several kinds of mushrooms, sunchokes/Jerusalem artichokes from my garden, shallots, chicken broth, and toasted pecans.
It can be made using fresh domestic and/or wild mushrooms, such as fresh crimini, button or portabellas, fresh or dried shiitakes, porcini, chanterelles, morels, or black trumpets in any combination. If using dried mushrooms, reconstitute by adding a little warm water, cover and microwave on medium heat 30 seconds. Let stand a minute, then uncover and chop, destemming shiitakes and saving the liquid. Kitchen scissors work great for this chore.
2 T. butter or olive oil, or combination of the two
1 tsp. dark sesame oil
3 chopped shallots
3 medium or 2 large Jerusalem artichokes/sunchokes, roughly chopped
1 cup basmati brown rice
1/2 cup wild rice
2-1/2 cups low salt chicken broth
1/2 cup mushroom soaking liquid, strained, or equal amount chicken broth, apple cider, or water
1/4 cup dry white wine (or add the same amount of other liquids)
2 T. soy sauce
2 good grinds black pepper
2 cloves garlic, put through press
1/2 cup chopped pecans, toasted lightly
Heat the butter/olive oil and sesame oil in an enamel dutch oven or heavy large saucepan, add mushrooms, chopped shallots, Jerusalem artichokes and garlic and stir for 1-2 minutes at high heat but do not totally brown. Add the wild and brown rice and continue to stir about 3 minutes, or until the rice is turning translucent. Add chicken broth, wine, mushroom soaking liquid and soy sauce, reduce heat and simmer covered on low about 45 minutes. Check rice for doneness, adding more liquid, if needed. Add toasted pecans and freshly ground pepper. Stir and cook another minute or two.
To toast nuts, spread in a single layer on a baking pan or cookie sheet. Toast in a 350° oven, stirring occasionally, 10 to 15 minutes. You could also toast them in an ungreased heavy skillet over medium heat, stirring until golden brown and aromatic, but watch them carefully and remove immediately from the pan.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Phyllo redux
I just removed an apple tart from the oven, something quite improvised that satisfies on a number of levels. I downloaded a recipe for a low-fat apple tart that uses phyllo dough, plus a homemade syrup to replace the usual butter and sugar.
I had the apples sliced and ready to go, but the phyllo dough I had removed from the freezer to thaw slightly was obviously over the hill. It refused to unroll in sheets, instead tearing into parchment fragments.
Undeterred, I placed the shards in the bottom of the glass pie plate to cover the surface and poured part of my already prepared syrup over it. The syrup contained:
1/3 cup Da Vinci sugar-free pumpkin pie syrup with Splenda
1/3 cup sugar-free maple syrup with Splenda
1/4 cup agave syrup
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. freshly ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp. dried lemon zest
1/3 cup white wine
I placed 4 cored and sliced apples as the medium layer, then managed to cover the top with 3-4 semi-intact pieces of phyllo that had thawed after they still remained sealed in a waxed paper cylinder in the badly outdated phyllo box.
I tucked them in over the apples slices and poured the remaining syrup over them, tucking in the edges and adding a few squiggles of Smart Squeeze, which I refer to as "faux butter."
Into the oven it went at 350 for about 25 minutes. I checked it, and cranked up the temperature the last 10 minutes to 375.
It had browned, and the ingredients had melded with the other ingredients to form a delightfully rich cohesion. A spoonful of Umpqua low-fat vanilla ice cream with Splenda was added while still warm. Ersatz sin.
I tried something similar with phyllo last Thanksgiving using home-canned green tomato mincemeat. However, the syrup component was not yet in play, and it was a bit dry and pasty.
Now I have a magic combination to try. While there are not enough green tomatoes this year to attempt another batch of green tomato mincemeat, I have two remaining pints lurking on the shelf. They will be sacrificed.
I had the apples sliced and ready to go, but the phyllo dough I had removed from the freezer to thaw slightly was obviously over the hill. It refused to unroll in sheets, instead tearing into parchment fragments.
Undeterred, I placed the shards in the bottom of the glass pie plate to cover the surface and poured part of my already prepared syrup over it. The syrup contained:
1/3 cup Da Vinci sugar-free pumpkin pie syrup with Splenda
1/3 cup sugar-free maple syrup with Splenda
1/4 cup agave syrup
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. freshly ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp. dried lemon zest
1/3 cup white wine
I placed 4 cored and sliced apples as the medium layer, then managed to cover the top with 3-4 semi-intact pieces of phyllo that had thawed after they still remained sealed in a waxed paper cylinder in the badly outdated phyllo box.
I tucked them in over the apples slices and poured the remaining syrup over them, tucking in the edges and adding a few squiggles of Smart Squeeze, which I refer to as "faux butter."
Into the oven it went at 350 for about 25 minutes. I checked it, and cranked up the temperature the last 10 minutes to 375.
It had browned, and the ingredients had melded with the other ingredients to form a delightfully rich cohesion. A spoonful of Umpqua low-fat vanilla ice cream with Splenda was added while still warm. Ersatz sin.
I tried something similar with phyllo last Thanksgiving using home-canned green tomato mincemeat. However, the syrup component was not yet in play, and it was a bit dry and pasty.
Now I have a magic combination to try. While there are not enough green tomatoes this year to attempt another batch of green tomato mincemeat, I have two remaining pints lurking on the shelf. They will be sacrificed.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Nearing Thanksgiving....
It's almost Thanksgiving again, and another anniversary is nearing.
Pan back to 1982, Brooklyn. It's dark and cold as I walk home from the Park Slope subway stop. I have invited three people to share Thanksgiving dinner, but I have not yet bought a turkey or any of the trimmings due to work and time pressures. As I walk toward President Street, every mom and pop bodega is closed. My heart sinks with each echoing step. My roommate is in Pennsylvania with her parents. Rather than face my favorite holiday alone, I have invited a couple who were each my friends before they met and married, plus a new boyfriend I've known less than two weeks. I met him at the insistence of my girlfriend, who said he was “spiritual.” He is shiny bald when he finally takes off his hat. I like him well enough, but he is moving a little too fast for me.
In despair over the turkey situation, I recall there is a 24-hour, seven-days-a-week Safeway, a 12-block walk into uncharted territory. At 10:30 p.m., I am willing to risk it. I reason as I scurry along that I will take a cab back, as I’ll have too much to carry. I can't afford a cab both directions and buy groceries, too. As I arrive, the manager is pulling down the metal gates and won't let me duck under to grab a few things. "This is the only night we close," he tells me. Now that I wish I had a cab, none are around.
I brace myself for the cold walk back, and see predatory shadows near the store. Launching myself toward home, my senses are on high alert. I manage to negotiate the first couple of blocks safely, but there are four or five of them, and they are dangerous young wolves, circling as they close in. I duck into a house turned apartment building with an unlocked front door, crouching below the window in the foyer. They search nearby yards and doorways. Unable to get past the inside door, trapped, I ring doorbells at random. Finally, a man in a bathrobe comes downstairs and I explain the situation. He agrees to call me a cab, and I wait, crouching and shivering until it comes. Home never felt better.
The next morning, a neighborhood grocery offers two chickens and other provisions. I set to work making sweet potato and apple pies, yeast rolls, cranberry sauce with orange and ginger, real whipped cream and cornbread stuffing from scratch. As the oldest of seven children with grandmothers from Kansas and Missouri, I can cook.
The potatoes are mashed when he arrives nearly an hour late. He plops himself in front of the TV and turns on a football game as I work. At 3 p.m., it is clear my friends are not showing, and we begin to eat when the phone rings. Miriam is calling from a subway station. They have had an on-platform shouting match; he is going to his mother's. I ask her to join us, but she is too upset.
We save the pie for later. He settles in front of his football game while I wash dishes. No offer of help from him; he doesn’t even carry his dishes to the sink. After a decidedly unspiritual remark about the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders, something snaps. Still in my apron, I hand him his hat and point him down the stairs. He protests, "What about the pie?" He calls for a week, but I will not speak to him.
Every year at Thanksgiving, I acknowledge yet another notch on an ever-tightening chastity belt. I seem to have lost the knack.
Pan back to 1982, Brooklyn. It's dark and cold as I walk home from the Park Slope subway stop. I have invited three people to share Thanksgiving dinner, but I have not yet bought a turkey or any of the trimmings due to work and time pressures. As I walk toward President Street, every mom and pop bodega is closed. My heart sinks with each echoing step. My roommate is in Pennsylvania with her parents. Rather than face my favorite holiday alone, I have invited a couple who were each my friends before they met and married, plus a new boyfriend I've known less than two weeks. I met him at the insistence of my girlfriend, who said he was “spiritual.” He is shiny bald when he finally takes off his hat. I like him well enough, but he is moving a little too fast for me.
In despair over the turkey situation, I recall there is a 24-hour, seven-days-a-week Safeway, a 12-block walk into uncharted territory. At 10:30 p.m., I am willing to risk it. I reason as I scurry along that I will take a cab back, as I’ll have too much to carry. I can't afford a cab both directions and buy groceries, too. As I arrive, the manager is pulling down the metal gates and won't let me duck under to grab a few things. "This is the only night we close," he tells me. Now that I wish I had a cab, none are around.
I brace myself for the cold walk back, and see predatory shadows near the store. Launching myself toward home, my senses are on high alert. I manage to negotiate the first couple of blocks safely, but there are four or five of them, and they are dangerous young wolves, circling as they close in. I duck into a house turned apartment building with an unlocked front door, crouching below the window in the foyer. They search nearby yards and doorways. Unable to get past the inside door, trapped, I ring doorbells at random. Finally, a man in a bathrobe comes downstairs and I explain the situation. He agrees to call me a cab, and I wait, crouching and shivering until it comes. Home never felt better.
The next morning, a neighborhood grocery offers two chickens and other provisions. I set to work making sweet potato and apple pies, yeast rolls, cranberry sauce with orange and ginger, real whipped cream and cornbread stuffing from scratch. As the oldest of seven children with grandmothers from Kansas and Missouri, I can cook.
The potatoes are mashed when he arrives nearly an hour late. He plops himself in front of the TV and turns on a football game as I work. At 3 p.m., it is clear my friends are not showing, and we begin to eat when the phone rings. Miriam is calling from a subway station. They have had an on-platform shouting match; he is going to his mother's. I ask her to join us, but she is too upset.
We save the pie for later. He settles in front of his football game while I wash dishes. No offer of help from him; he doesn’t even carry his dishes to the sink. After a decidedly unspiritual remark about the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders, something snaps. Still in my apron, I hand him his hat and point him down the stairs. He protests, "What about the pie?" He calls for a week, but I will not speak to him.
Every year at Thanksgiving, I acknowledge yet another notch on an ever-tightening chastity belt. I seem to have lost the knack.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Stuffed Giant Zucchini
It finally happened. I picked a zucchini that qualified (barely) as a stuffer.
I had looked at everything in the garden, and I swear that particular fruit was only 6 inches long. It must be the 90 degree temperatures and my daily drenchings. The minute Mom saw it, she said, "You should stuff it." (Not a personal comment.) Within a half hour of picking it, I went to work:
Cook 3/4 cup of bulgur wheat (Bob's Red Mill) in a mixture of 1 cup each of chicken broth and water in a sauce pan, adding salt, 1 tsp. parsley, plus 1/2 tsp. each of dehydrated garlic and onion bits. Let it get to fluffy stage and pull it off the heat.
Meanwhile in another pot, start 4 slices of chopped turkey bacon and cook a mixture of finely shredded kale, chopped gai lan and/or other greens in a little chicken stock, totaling about 2 or so cups of greens after wilting. Continue to simmer on low while you:
Take the casings off two fresh Italian-style chicken (could be turkey) sausages and add the meat to a smaller non-stick skillet with half a finely chopped small onion and 2 cloves of chopped garlic.
Split the large zucchini, and place it however it fits cut side up in a large cast iron skillet or heavy roasting pan. Use a tablespoon to remove the pithy interior, leaving at least 3/4" of squash at the narrowest part of the walls of the squash. Salt the interior of the squash. Some moisture may surface; scoop it out.
Chop the innards, removing the larger hard seeds if there are any, and add to the sausage meat, letting the squash moisture cook off most of the way. Add the bulgur to the cooked meat/squash innards, plus about 2 cups of the greens and turkey bacon, draining most of the liquid from the greens before adding.
To the stuffing mixture, add 2 T. chopped chives, 5 leaves of shredded fresh basil, 1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves and an equal amount of fresh oregano and parsley (dried is okay, only use 1/2 tsp.), plus 2 tsp. smoked Spanish paprika (either hot or sweet), 1/2 tsp. applewood smoked salt and freshly ground pepper. Mix it all together.
Mound part of the mixture inside the zucchini, pausing to place 3-4 T. of shredded parmesan in the interior, and place the remainder of the stuffing once it is heaped on the zucchini along the sides of the baking pan/skillet, leaving the green sides of the zucchini to be exposed to the oven heat.
Place strips of mozzarella (I used a string cheese) atop each stuffed zucchini, then distribute the contents of a small 8-ounce can of tomato sauce over the pan's contents, with a final sprinkling of parmesan over the top.
Bake in a 325-degree oven around 45 minutes. Cover it with a lid or a tent of foil if it seems to be drying out toward the end. Test the thickest part of the squash for tenderness, and if it's done earlier, take it out. It was quite nuanced and the squash was tender. Served with roasted cornish hens stuffed with fresh herbs, it was a true Sunday dinner.
It happened yet again Tuesday. This time I picked two zucchini that qualified as stuffers, and as I had taken that road, I tried something a little different.
I mixed a little Eggbeaters with 3 T. or so of evaporated milk and a little salt (2-3 eggs beaten with a bit of milk would also work). I cut the overgrown zucchini into large strips (think jo-jo potato size) and dipped them in the egg. This was followed by a romp in a flat baking dish with a mixture of about 3/4 cup of Japanese panko crumbs mixed with 1/4 cup shredded parmesan, 1 tsp. garlic powder, 1/2 tsp. smoked paprika, 1/3 tsp. cajun spice mix, salt, pepper and a little dried basil and oregano.
The pieces were transferred to a large sheet pan sprayed with canola, with every attempt to keep the coating adhered to each piece.
The egg wash was mixed in with the leftover bulgur stuffing that had been spooned into a casserole dish and topped with the remainder of the panko mixture. All went into a 375 degree oven about 30-35 minutes. The leftover cornish game hen yielded a side of roasted meat. With the zucchini pieces crisped and disguised as something verboten and a spoonful or two of the newly recreated casserole, we had dinner.
I will continue to experiment with the panko crumb coating. I just read about a New York restaurant serving Northern Fried Chicken using a coating that is half flour, half matzo meal. Perhaps they are onto something.
I had looked at everything in the garden, and I swear that particular fruit was only 6 inches long. It must be the 90 degree temperatures and my daily drenchings. The minute Mom saw it, she said, "You should stuff it." (Not a personal comment.) Within a half hour of picking it, I went to work:
Cook 3/4 cup of bulgur wheat (Bob's Red Mill) in a mixture of 1 cup each of chicken broth and water in a sauce pan, adding salt, 1 tsp. parsley, plus 1/2 tsp. each of dehydrated garlic and onion bits. Let it get to fluffy stage and pull it off the heat.
Meanwhile in another pot, start 4 slices of chopped turkey bacon and cook a mixture of finely shredded kale, chopped gai lan and/or other greens in a little chicken stock, totaling about 2 or so cups of greens after wilting. Continue to simmer on low while you:
Take the casings off two fresh Italian-style chicken (could be turkey) sausages and add the meat to a smaller non-stick skillet with half a finely chopped small onion and 2 cloves of chopped garlic.
Split the large zucchini, and place it however it fits cut side up in a large cast iron skillet or heavy roasting pan. Use a tablespoon to remove the pithy interior, leaving at least 3/4" of squash at the narrowest part of the walls of the squash. Salt the interior of the squash. Some moisture may surface; scoop it out.
Chop the innards, removing the larger hard seeds if there are any, and add to the sausage meat, letting the squash moisture cook off most of the way. Add the bulgur to the cooked meat/squash innards, plus about 2 cups of the greens and turkey bacon, draining most of the liquid from the greens before adding.
To the stuffing mixture, add 2 T. chopped chives, 5 leaves of shredded fresh basil, 1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves and an equal amount of fresh oregano and parsley (dried is okay, only use 1/2 tsp.), plus 2 tsp. smoked Spanish paprika (either hot or sweet), 1/2 tsp. applewood smoked salt and freshly ground pepper. Mix it all together.
Mound part of the mixture inside the zucchini, pausing to place 3-4 T. of shredded parmesan in the interior, and place the remainder of the stuffing once it is heaped on the zucchini along the sides of the baking pan/skillet, leaving the green sides of the zucchini to be exposed to the oven heat.
Place strips of mozzarella (I used a string cheese) atop each stuffed zucchini, then distribute the contents of a small 8-ounce can of tomato sauce over the pan's contents, with a final sprinkling of parmesan over the top.
Bake in a 325-degree oven around 45 minutes. Cover it with a lid or a tent of foil if it seems to be drying out toward the end. Test the thickest part of the squash for tenderness, and if it's done earlier, take it out. It was quite nuanced and the squash was tender. Served with roasted cornish hens stuffed with fresh herbs, it was a true Sunday dinner.
It happened yet again Tuesday. This time I picked two zucchini that qualified as stuffers, and as I had taken that road, I tried something a little different.
I mixed a little Eggbeaters with 3 T. or so of evaporated milk and a little salt (2-3 eggs beaten with a bit of milk would also work). I cut the overgrown zucchini into large strips (think jo-jo potato size) and dipped them in the egg. This was followed by a romp in a flat baking dish with a mixture of about 3/4 cup of Japanese panko crumbs mixed with 1/4 cup shredded parmesan, 1 tsp. garlic powder, 1/2 tsp. smoked paprika, 1/3 tsp. cajun spice mix, salt, pepper and a little dried basil and oregano.
The pieces were transferred to a large sheet pan sprayed with canola, with every attempt to keep the coating adhered to each piece.
The egg wash was mixed in with the leftover bulgur stuffing that had been spooned into a casserole dish and topped with the remainder of the panko mixture. All went into a 375 degree oven about 30-35 minutes. The leftover cornish game hen yielded a side of roasted meat. With the zucchini pieces crisped and disguised as something verboten and a spoonful or two of the newly recreated casserole, we had dinner.
I will continue to experiment with the panko crumb coating. I just read about a New York restaurant serving Northern Fried Chicken using a coating that is half flour, half matzo meal. Perhaps they are onto something.
Monday, August 1, 2011
So Long...
It is a fait accompli --- I am now retired. Congress may or may not cut what will be my paltry living, (which I, in fact, had earned and salted away as surely as if it were a savings account, only to have it plundered). My fate as a senior citizen is in their grimy hands. The ladies at work insisted on an afternoon reception on my last day, just as I was in the final throes of getting out that final newspaper. They brought cake, potluck offerings, etc., and quite a few people dropped by as the afternoon progressed. I kept popping back into my office to crank out another paragraph or two.
I know you're not supposed to contribute to a party in your honor, but I had purchased a pile of pork in a moment of weakness and had to justify it, so I made a batch of crockpot posole. It was consumed before I managed to get any of it.
So Long Posole
3 pounds pork boneless sirloin chops, boneless pork country ribs or tenderloin (the latter has less fat but may not be as moist when fully cooked)
Cut the meat into 1" to 2" cubes. Brown in a heavy skillet with 2 T. canola oil in small batches, salting and peppering each batch, then adding each batch to a large crockpot set on high.
Add 1/2 cup chicken broth and a one-pint container of mild fresh salsa with cilantro to the crockpot.
When all the meat is browned and removed, add 1 large chopped onion and 1/2 a chopped sweet red pepper to the skillet to quickly soften and slightly brown.
Once all the vegetables are removed, use the fond with 1/3 cup dry white wine (not too oaky) to deglaze the pan.
Add to the crockpot with:
2 bay leaves
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 small can Hatch green chiles from Trader Joe's
1 can white hominy, drained and rinsed twice (use a large can if you are feeding a large crowd)
1 tsp. smoked Spanish paprika (I use sweet, but hot is also okay)
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. smoked salt (optional, but check salt later if you don't use)
1 tsp. dried oregano (or several sprigs of fresh)
1 tsp. dried thyme (" " " ")
3 T. fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped
2 tsp. chopped chives
Set the crockpot on low. At first, it will seem dry, but liquid will form to make a thick stew. Simmer 3-4 hours on low. Check seasoning.
Serve in shallow bowls with warmed small corn tortillas, additional fresh salsa or red chili flakes, sour cream and/or a grated Mexican cheese blend.
This is actually a New Mexican version of a traditional dish. It isn't that spicy, and is suited for serving to people who can add their own heat if desired. If you want to make it hotter and more authentic, you could char and blister 2-3 large chiles (jalapenos, serranos or fresh Hatch chiles, if available) over an open flame or burner. Skin the peppers --- wear gloves or do not handle -- and deseed, chop, and add to the crockpot in place of the can of Hatch chiles. To stretch the meat further, you could add two ears of fresh corn cut off the cob or an equivalent amount of frozen corn.
A quote from Wikipedia, "According to research by the National Institute of Anthropology and History and the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, on these special occasions, the meat used in the pozole was human. After the prisoners were killed by having their hearts torn out in a ritual sacrifice, the rest of the body was chopped and cooked with corn. The meal was shared among the whole community as an act of religious communion. After the conquest, when cannibalism was banned, pork became the staple meat as it 'tasted very similar,' according to a Spanish priest."
I know you're not supposed to contribute to a party in your honor, but I had purchased a pile of pork in a moment of weakness and had to justify it, so I made a batch of crockpot posole. It was consumed before I managed to get any of it.
So Long Posole
3 pounds pork boneless sirloin chops, boneless pork country ribs or tenderloin (the latter has less fat but may not be as moist when fully cooked)
Cut the meat into 1" to 2" cubes. Brown in a heavy skillet with 2 T. canola oil in small batches, salting and peppering each batch, then adding each batch to a large crockpot set on high.
Add 1/2 cup chicken broth and a one-pint container of mild fresh salsa with cilantro to the crockpot.
When all the meat is browned and removed, add 1 large chopped onion and 1/2 a chopped sweet red pepper to the skillet to quickly soften and slightly brown.
Once all the vegetables are removed, use the fond with 1/3 cup dry white wine (not too oaky) to deglaze the pan.
Add to the crockpot with:
2 bay leaves
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 small can Hatch green chiles from Trader Joe's
1 can white hominy, drained and rinsed twice (use a large can if you are feeding a large crowd)
1 tsp. smoked Spanish paprika (I use sweet, but hot is also okay)
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. smoked salt (optional, but check salt later if you don't use)
1 tsp. dried oregano (or several sprigs of fresh)
1 tsp. dried thyme (" " " ")
3 T. fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped
2 tsp. chopped chives
Set the crockpot on low. At first, it will seem dry, but liquid will form to make a thick stew. Simmer 3-4 hours on low. Check seasoning.
Serve in shallow bowls with warmed small corn tortillas, additional fresh salsa or red chili flakes, sour cream and/or a grated Mexican cheese blend.
This is actually a New Mexican version of a traditional dish. It isn't that spicy, and is suited for serving to people who can add their own heat if desired. If you want to make it hotter and more authentic, you could char and blister 2-3 large chiles (jalapenos, serranos or fresh Hatch chiles, if available) over an open flame or burner. Skin the peppers --- wear gloves or do not handle -- and deseed, chop, and add to the crockpot in place of the can of Hatch chiles. To stretch the meat further, you could add two ears of fresh corn cut off the cob or an equivalent amount of frozen corn.
A quote from Wikipedia, "According to research by the National Institute of Anthropology and History and the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, on these special occasions, the meat used in the pozole was human. After the prisoners were killed by having their hearts torn out in a ritual sacrifice, the rest of the body was chopped and cooked with corn. The meal was shared among the whole community as an act of religious communion. After the conquest, when cannibalism was banned, pork became the staple meat as it 'tasted very similar,' according to a Spanish priest."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Pause that refreshes
taken at Trout Lake Arts Fest
