I like Michelle Rhee. There I said it. Maybe don't tell any public school teachers, though, okay? So I was interested to hear that she's in the know about some of the best soul food in DC, which happens to be located in a church basement. I must check this out.
Michelle Rhee’s Favorite D.C. Restaurants Run the Gamut
Hummble Sandwich
Summer...the most glorious season for produce...is gone. Well, at least the local peaches are gobbled up, and I go back to work/school on Tuesday. And shamefully, I didn't enjoy the glorious produce much this summer. Traveling kept me from making the farmers' market a weekly endeavor (Lord knows I tried!) as well as doing much of any grocery shopping.
Excuses, excuses, right?
Because my grocery store endeavors and cooking have been almost non-existent, tonight I made myself a Hummble Sandwich. Hummus, grated carrot, marinated artichoke hearts on a super thin whole wheat bun, open-faced. Get it, Humm-ble? Humm-us. Ok, I probably didn't need to spell that out for you. It is humble, but also good for me (you, too), amazingly filling, and quite attractive with zillions of bright orange shreds dangling off the edges. Mmm...almost makes me want another one. Oh, and did I mention...it's so cheap. Like, equivalent of a 25 cent pack of ramen noodles, perhaps. This might become my go-to-lunch this school year. I'm also starting to brainstorm variations and additions, thinly sliced cucumber, olives (if I could stand them), greens, tomato, chopped red onion, pickles, hard-boiled egg, ful made with fava beans (something new to me, but why not?!) ...do you have any ideas?
I've made hummus a few times, but have generally preferred the taste of some store-bought. My current favorite is Whole Foods store brand. I've tried many from Trader Joe's but can never remember if I prefer the one with tahini or without. (You should see me at the grocery store, ogling ingredient lists; it's ridiculous.) In researching accompaniments to hummus, I came across this article from the San Francisco Chronicle. My three take-aways are:
1) I must try making ful, slow-cooked fava beans with lemon and garlic, to eat with hummus.
2) Hummus should be made from dried chickpeas* than have been soaked overnight, not canned.
3) Hummus should be made with less and higher quality oil and processed longer. This sounds like a reasonable explanation of the key to thick and smooth (not grainy) hummus.
I know I said three, but...
4) Hummus needs cumin. My sister told me this a few weeks ago and I'm not sure why it seemed like a revelation.
Maybe the autumn squashes and the crisp breezes--don't think they're getting to DC anytime soon--will renew my resolve to get back in the kitchen, but for now I think I'll eat a few more Hummble Sandwiches.
Can I make one more excuse for not cooking? or not blogging? or maybe both? My camera broke a few weeks ago and I can't commit to another model. I want my camera back. I know how to work all the buttons! Why cook if I can't take a picture of it? Why blog if I can't post a picture? I know that's what you really want to see.
Excuses...
* i.e. chickpeas: A good friend once told me that she thought her dad made up the name "garbanzo beans" to be funny until she heard people call chickpeas garbanzos in college!
Excuses, excuses, right?
Because my grocery store endeavors and cooking have been almost non-existent, tonight I made myself a Hummble Sandwich. Hummus, grated carrot, marinated artichoke hearts on a super thin whole wheat bun, open-faced. Get it, Humm-ble? Humm-us. Ok, I probably didn't need to spell that out for you. It is humble, but also good for me (you, too), amazingly filling, and quite attractive with zillions of bright orange shreds dangling off the edges. Mmm...almost makes me want another one. Oh, and did I mention...it's so cheap. Like, equivalent of a 25 cent pack of ramen noodles, perhaps. This might become my go-to-lunch this school year. I'm also starting to brainstorm variations and additions, thinly sliced cucumber, olives (if I could stand them), greens, tomato, chopped red onion, pickles, hard-boiled egg, ful made with fava beans (something new to me, but why not?!) ...do you have any ideas?
I've made hummus a few times, but have generally preferred the taste of some store-bought. My current favorite is Whole Foods store brand. I've tried many from Trader Joe's but can never remember if I prefer the one with tahini or without. (You should see me at the grocery store, ogling ingredient lists; it's ridiculous.) In researching accompaniments to hummus, I came across this article from the San Francisco Chronicle. My three take-aways are:
1) I must try making ful, slow-cooked fava beans with lemon and garlic, to eat with hummus.
2) Hummus should be made from dried chickpeas* than have been soaked overnight, not canned.
3) Hummus should be made with less and higher quality oil and processed longer. This sounds like a reasonable explanation of the key to thick and smooth (not grainy) hummus.
I know I said three, but...
4) Hummus needs cumin. My sister told me this a few weeks ago and I'm not sure why it seemed like a revelation.
Maybe the autumn squashes and the crisp breezes--don't think they're getting to DC anytime soon--will renew my resolve to get back in the kitchen, but for now I think I'll eat a few more Hummble Sandwiches.
Can I make one more excuse for not cooking? or not blogging? or maybe both? My camera broke a few weeks ago and I can't commit to another model. I want my camera back. I know how to work all the buttons! Why cook if I can't take a picture of it? Why blog if I can't post a picture? I know that's what you really want to see.
Excuses...
* i.e. chickpeas: A good friend once told me that she thought her dad made up the name "garbanzo beans" to be funny until she heard people call chickpeas garbanzos in college!
Vegetarian Manifesto? A book review
"At the end of the day, factory farming isn't about feeding people; it's about money."
I recently read Jonathan Safran Foer's Eating Animals, released about 9 months ago. I've read Foer's novel Extremely Close and Incredibly Loud, but the foodie themes were what drew me to his latest memoir/non-fiction book. Foer's purpose for writing the book was to unravel the vegetarian/omnivore flip-flop that he had been engaged in much of his adult life in light of impending fatherhood.
When I was younger I would ask my vegetarian friends about their choice, but I've honestly stopped caring about why others make the decision. Perhaps I lost interest because the veggies usually didn't have a reason and even seemed dispassionate about it. I've never seriously considered vegetarianism myself, but I was hooked on Foer's book almost instantly.
Eating Animals offers a convincing argument for discontinuing support of factory farming, though not necessarily for vegetarianism itself. Foer does, however, make it hard to see another way out. In one such argument Foer writes,
People know about factory farming. We've all been told about the horrors of the slaughterhouse, the tiny cages, the animals that can't naturally reproduce or stand-up, the high rate of injury among meat processors, and on and on, but it's easier to forget, to push all of this (along with those other global problems) out of our minds than it is to sacrifice our idea of comfort, craving, and nourishment.
I'm not sure where I stand now, but I have been acutely more aware of my consumption since completing this book. I'd love to stock my freezer with healthy, antibiotic-free meat raised and processed locally on family farms, but what about eating at restaurants? Would my personal at home effort be just a drop in the bucket? An insignificant choice made by a single, urban woman? This book has made me think about my personal responsibility more than anything else has recently, and I encourage you to pick it up too. I promise you will not feel bullied into becoming a vegetarian, but it will make you peel your fingers away from your eyes, if just a little bit, to acknowledge the way our food choices affect the ecology of the planet and the sustainability of our food system.
I recently read Jonathan Safran Foer's Eating Animals, released about 9 months ago. I've read Foer's novel Extremely Close and Incredibly Loud, but the foodie themes were what drew me to his latest memoir/non-fiction book. Foer's purpose for writing the book was to unravel the vegetarian/omnivore flip-flop that he had been engaged in much of his adult life in light of impending fatherhood.
When I was younger I would ask my vegetarian friends about their choice, but I've honestly stopped caring about why others make the decision. Perhaps I lost interest because the veggies usually didn't have a reason and even seemed dispassionate about it. I've never seriously considered vegetarianism myself, but I was hooked on Foer's book almost instantly.
Eating Animals offers a convincing argument for discontinuing support of factory farming, though not necessarily for vegetarianism itself. Foer does, however, make it hard to see another way out. In one such argument Foer writes,
"A good number of people seem to be tempted to continue supporting factory farms while also buying meat outside the system when it is available. That's nice...How effective would the Montgomery bus boycott have been if the protesters had used the bus when it became inconvenient not to?...If anyone finds in this book encouragement to buy some meat from alternative sources while buying factory farm meat as well, they have found something that isn't here."Much of the book seeks to offer an insight into the lives of the animals that we eat, which, while considerably graphic and disturbing, is not offered as the only reason for swearing off factory farm meat. Foer makes clear that many of the world's problems are significantly contributed to by factory farms, from public health issues (foodborne illnesses, antibiotic resistance) to poverty and obesity (depending on region of the world), and global warming and pollution (caused by the large number of animals gathered on such farms).
"Rationally, factory farming is so obviously wrong, in so many ways. In all of my reading and conversations, I've yet to find a credible defense of it. But food is not rational. Food is culture, habit, and identify..."Throughout the book the author discusses food as memory/culture/family, and as hokey as it may sound, this is one approach that made the author's message meaningful for me. Foer recognizes that people do not make rational choices when it comes to food. The choices about what we eat are complicated, and he doesn't pretend that it's easy to make better ones, but he does put the responsibility for changing this broken system squarely on the reader/consumer.
People know about factory farming. We've all been told about the horrors of the slaughterhouse, the tiny cages, the animals that can't naturally reproduce or stand-up, the high rate of injury among meat processors, and on and on, but it's easier to forget, to push all of this (along with those other global problems) out of our minds than it is to sacrifice our idea of comfort, craving, and nourishment.
I'm not sure where I stand now, but I have been acutely more aware of my consumption since completing this book. I'd love to stock my freezer with healthy, antibiotic-free meat raised and processed locally on family farms, but what about eating at restaurants? Would my personal at home effort be just a drop in the bucket? An insignificant choice made by a single, urban woman? This book has made me think about my personal responsibility more than anything else has recently, and I encourage you to pick it up too. I promise you will not feel bullied into becoming a vegetarian, but it will make you peel your fingers away from your eyes, if just a little bit, to acknowledge the way our food choices affect the ecology of the planet and the sustainability of our food system.
Cheese bubbles in the dockyards: My first Michelin star restaurant
While visiting Copenhagen with my foodie sister and chef brother-in-law, I visited my very first Michelin star restaurant. Since we knew there would be no possibility of dining at Noma on this trip, Sis did some research to find another excellent and accessible Michelin star restaurant. (Copenhagen has 12 Michelin starred restaurant; Noma is the only one with two stars.) Something about being named the best restaurant in the world makes it hard for plebeians, especially American ones, like us, to get a reservation. Go fig?! However, my sister had no problem making (and then pushing back) our lunch reservation at Paustian v. Bo Bech.
With my sister at the helm of the mission, we (three adults, one spunky, garlic-loving 6 year-old) hopped on a regional train, walked into the dock yards, through some fresh tar, and proceeded to get lost and debate (affectionately, of course) about the right way to get there. We had my sister's hand-drawn map from her earlier internet research and the occasional crude sign in the most inexplicable European language I've ever seen (and I studied Danish for 4 months!). We made it there--there being a very white, very Danish looking building, a high-end furniture store with a restaurant--sweaty, dusty, and hungry.
The servers wore hammer pants and bolero jackets and ours reminded me of Régine Chassagne of the Arcade Fire.
First off were some "cheese bubbles," which tasted exactly as their name would have you imagine.
Then, shrimp with chive blossoms:
And frozen grapefruit:
A beautiful slice of "ox heart" tomato with a vanilla-infused oil.
Throughout the meal we were offered three different kinds of bread: sourdough, licorice-glazed bun, and Swedish knäckebröd (crispbread), which tastes like an oyster cracker, communion wafer, and also nothing.
Between the four of us we ate every course offered at lunch that day. There was the smoked eel with spinach:
White asparagus slathered in...some kind of cream sauce, and served on a slate. Probably the most appetizing way to serve something incredibly unappetizing and dull.
And a braised leek atop lamp:
For dessert, vanilla ice cream with bitter wispy chocolate wafer and caramels:
Obviously my palette is not as sophisticated as the Michelin guide writers, but I enjoyed the first half of the meal far more than the last. The amuse-bouche were unique and tasty, the tomato was the stuff my (non-chocolate) dreams are made of, and the smoked eel might have made me an eel convert.
I think the restaurant closed the week after we visited, but will be reopening in a more central location, which seems like a wise idea. Thank you to my sister and brother for this culinary first! "Tak for Mad!"
With my sister at the helm of the mission, we (three adults, one spunky, garlic-loving 6 year-old) hopped on a regional train, walked into the dock yards, through some fresh tar, and proceeded to get lost and debate (affectionately, of course) about the right way to get there. We had my sister's hand-drawn map from her earlier internet research and the occasional crude sign in the most inexplicable European language I've ever seen (and I studied Danish for 4 months!). We made it there--there being a very white, very Danish looking building, a high-end furniture store with a restaurant--sweaty, dusty, and hungry.
The servers wore hammer pants and bolero jackets and ours reminded me of Régine Chassagne of the Arcade Fire.
First off were some "cheese bubbles," which tasted exactly as their name would have you imagine.
Then, shrimp with chive blossoms:
And frozen grapefruit:
A beautiful slice of "ox heart" tomato with a vanilla-infused oil.
Throughout the meal we were offered three different kinds of bread: sourdough, licorice-glazed bun, and Swedish knäckebröd (crispbread), which tastes like an oyster cracker, communion wafer, and also nothing.
Between the four of us we ate every course offered at lunch that day. There was the smoked eel with spinach:
White asparagus slathered in...some kind of cream sauce, and served on a slate. Probably the most appetizing way to serve something incredibly unappetizing and dull.
And a braised leek atop lamp:
For dessert, vanilla ice cream with bitter wispy chocolate wafer and caramels:
Obviously my palette is not as sophisticated as the Michelin guide writers, but I enjoyed the first half of the meal far more than the last. The amuse-bouche were unique and tasty, the tomato was the stuff my (non-chocolate) dreams are made of, and the smoked eel might have made me an eel convert.
I think the restaurant closed the week after we visited, but will be reopening in a more central location, which seems like a wise idea. Thank you to my sister and brother for this culinary first! "Tak for Mad!"
Eatcation
Ok, so maybe from a culinary standpoint, I'd rather have been in Italy, but my recent vacation in Germany was very...filling, shall we say. My eyes were always bigger than my stomach, and most often I disappointed myself with my inability to clean my plate.
There are many foods I enjoy more than cheese, but when in Switzerland, one must eat fondue, right? Luckily, I didn't have to commit to my own pot of hot, boozy cheese; that's what friends are for! Friends are also for reviving you after your hot boozy cheese turns into a cold lump somewhere between your mouth and your intestine and then sharing a hotel room with you while you digest!
Since I started with breakfast, I'll end with dessert. There were Magnum bars, flaming mounds of ice cream, chocolate mousse, black forest cake, and kaiserschmarrn ("the emperor's nonsense," caramelized pancakes served with applesauce.) I even brought home my own little bottle of emperor's nonsense liquor! (Thanks ELFW!)
Let's start with breakfast. While staying at the charming Landhaus Sommerau I enjoyed German breakfasts of fresh breads, meats, cheeses and butter (oh the butter!) from happy alpine cows, fruit and yogurt. I love a sweet and savory breakfast! Then there were, of course, the little Nürnberger sausages that I ate in Stuttgart in a jet-lagged stupor my first day.
Vacation in Germany, obviously, included lots of beer. Firstly in the Biergarten zum Flaucher...along with pretzels, a board of obatzda, radishes and cucumbers and more chives than I've ever seen in one place before!
Moving on to the various incantations of pork that I consumed in Deutschland...
First night at the Landhaus Sommerau: pork chops, fried potato pancakes, green beans wrapped in bacon. Even the vegetarian at the table snuck a few out from under the bacon. There are two forms of pork on this plate!
Pork the next day on this cute little sandwich bite.
Please take note of how many servings of vegetables I included in the following meal...but don't be distracted from two kinds of wurst, two kinds of fish (smoked trout and poached ?) and potato salad.
Speaking of vegetables....the sauteed mushrooms and bacon made this salad feel anything but healthy.
Traditional Allgäu wedding soup (dumplings in a beef broth with julienned vegetables)
First night at the Landhaus Sommerau: pork chops, fried potato pancakes, green beans wrapped in bacon. Even the vegetarian at the table snuck a few out from under the bacon. There are two forms of pork on this plate!
Pork the next day on this cute little sandwich bite.
Please take note of how many servings of vegetables I included in the following meal...but don't be distracted from two kinds of wurst, two kinds of fish (smoked trout and poached ?) and potato salad.
Speaking of vegetables....the sauteed mushrooms and bacon made this salad feel anything but healthy.
Traditional Allgäu wedding soup (dumplings in a beef broth with julienned vegetables)
There are many foods I enjoy more than cheese, but when in Switzerland, one must eat fondue, right? Luckily, I didn't have to commit to my own pot of hot, boozy cheese; that's what friends are for! Friends are also for reviving you after your hot boozy cheese turns into a cold lump somewhere between your mouth and your intestine and then sharing a hotel room with you while you digest!
Since I started with breakfast, I'll end with dessert. There were Magnum bars, flaming mounds of ice cream, chocolate mousse, black forest cake, and kaiserschmarrn ("the emperor's nonsense," caramelized pancakes served with applesauce.) I even brought home my own little bottle of emperor's nonsense liquor! (Thanks ELFW!)
Pre-Vacation Self-Control
I had to control myself at the farmers' market this weekend because in two days I'm heading out of town for two weeks. I bought two small bulbs of fennel, rhubarb (probably the last of the season), and two peaches. 1st peach was delicious; it ripened nicely in two days. I have plans for salmon cakes with zucchini fennel slaw for tonight. But, oh boy, I gotta do something with that rhubarb! Probably a quick compote for ice cream and yogurt for the next two days because on top of packing and laundry and errands, I don't want to worry about letting some delicious rhubarb dish go to waste!
This vacation will surely prove to be a culinary treat. A few things I'm looking forward to gobbling up are brezel, wurst, beer (all, duh!), Danish pastries (cinnamon rolls, I hope), and cheese from happy Alpine cows, but there will surely be much more to report when I return.
Hej! Farvel! Auf Wiedersehen!
Taking out a loan to finance my pickle quest
I bought some fresh (refrigerated) pickles at Whole Foods the other week. I love pickles (and many other fermented foods...kimchi, anyone?). I was excited to try them because I had recently been searching for pickles without corn syrup or artificial coloring in them. When I got around to opening the jar I realized there were only four pickles in it. I've been eating them by the half because, as much as I love pickles, they are best in small doses. And, at $7 for the jar--yes, I kid you not--it seems the more economical way to enjoy them. Maybe that summer job I got is actually going to finance my love for pickles...
My search for a more natural (and affordable) pickle continues. Any suggestions?
My search for a more natural (and affordable) pickle continues. Any suggestions?
Rhubarb for Everyone!
In these final days of the school year, I've done my best to spread the love for rhubarb at my workplace. Seems rhubarb didn't really need any support around there though; everybody was already a fan!
For this final day of the school year, I made rhubarb muffins again, but last time I didn't share very generously. Shame on me. When I scooped the remainder of the muffin batter into a small 4 by 6 inch Pyrex and baked it, I had a rhubarb muffin "loaf" on my hands. Not my favorite word in the world (sounds a little gross, no?), but descriptive. Mmm...rhubarb loaf.
Photo credit to this guy.
You can't see the rhubarb in this one, but it's in there--probably in slightly too large chunks. In fact the photographer looked at the other muffin after taking this photo and said, "Umm...that one has something red in it."
With whole wheat flour, no butter, low-fat yogurt, a sprinkle of cinnamon and sugar on top, and--ahem--a vegetable, this is one bad-ass healthy muffin.
For this final day of the school year, I made rhubarb muffins again, but last time I didn't share very generously. Shame on me. When I scooped the remainder of the muffin batter into a small 4 by 6 inch Pyrex and baked it, I had a rhubarb muffin "loaf" on my hands. Not my favorite word in the world (sounds a little gross, no?), but descriptive. Mmm...rhubarb loaf.
Photo credit to this guy.
You can't see the rhubarb in this one, but it's in there--probably in slightly too large chunks. In fact the photographer looked at the other muffin after taking this photo and said, "Umm...that one has something red in it."With whole wheat flour, no butter, low-fat yogurt, a sprinkle of cinnamon and sugar on top, and--ahem--a vegetable, this is one bad-ass healthy muffin.
Some may call it an obsession
I can't stop buying rhubarb at the farmer's market! But last weekend I also brought home some peas and six adorable little squash: zucchini, yellow crookneck squash, pale green zucchini and two globe zucchini: one light, one dark. I took a picture but...not sure where it ended up.
Tonight was a night for originality.
Shrimp and Summer Squash Spaghetti (SSSS)
1/2 pound medium uncooked shrimp
1/3 pound (?) spaghetti
3 petite summer squash, sliced on the diagonal or in half rounds
A few leaves of basil
Dried basil
Can of petite diced tomatoes
Olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, minced
Start the spaghetti.
1. Add the garlic to a hot olive-oiled saute pan. (Talk to your housemate about how good it smells and reminisce about times we've burned garlic. Don't let the garlic burn.)
2. Add the shrimp to the pan. Flip them over after about 2 minutes or when looking pinkish. Let cook a couple more minutes. Add some water, diced tomatoes and dried basil to the pan.
3. In another heated olive-oiled pan saute the squash being sure not to crowd so they get brown. When all the squash is cooked add it to the lightly bubbling tomato shrimp mixture.
4. Toss with spaghetti. Serve with fresh parmesan and garnish with shredded basil leaves.
It felt downright greedy to make this just for myself.
Just can't get enough!
The fear of letting my rhubarb go to waste prompted me to get up a 6:15 yesterday even though I'd stayed up past midnight. My coworkers were the lucky beneficiaries of my efforts. They deserved a little treat; yesterday was the last day of exams for the school year, and the beginning of the end of grading, report cards, and classroom clean-up (but mostly I just wanted to enjoy my rhubarb before it went rotten, shhh....).
It was a balls-y move, getting up at 6:15 to cook something, especially after the last time I tried to prepare food before 7:30 am I sheared off the bottom of a bottle of olive oil, resulting in a giant slick to clean up. Wasn't expecting to be sopping up olive oil for 20 minutes before going to work when the alarm went off that morning. So I guess you could say that yesterday's Rhubarb-Strawberry Pudding Cake, i.e. Breakfast Cake, got me back on the morning-kitchen horse.
If it weren't for melting the butter or cooking the rhubarb with water and cornstarch, this would be a very very simple recipe. As it is, it is very simple, because for such basic ingredients, it tastes so good. If you're going to eat cake for breakfast, this should be the one, with its all-star rhubarb-strawberry fruit mixture hiding beneath slightly spongy sweet cake.
Baja in DC
I've been itching to try my hand at fish tacos for awhile now. The summery weather a few weeks ago inspired this effort. The fresh corn tortillas (I did not make) and the salsa (I am proud to have made) were the stars here. I grilled halibut (instead of breading and frying as more traditional fish tacos are made), but am neither an expert on the grill nor, I think, a fan of halibut. I hope to work on the grilling skills this summer (speaking of which...), but I would love to try this again with another fish. Any suggestions? Tilapia seems too thin and delicate.
Avocado Mango Salsa
1 not-too ripe mango, cubed
1 not-too ripe avocado, cubed
1 tomato, cubed
1/2 red onion
Cilantro, chopped
Juice of 2 limes
Salt
Carefully mix mango, avocado, tomato and onion together. Pour lime juice, salt, and cilantro over and mix gently.
Farmers' Market Glory
This week's buys: asparagus (the most delicate stalks yet this season), kale, 2 quarts of strawberries, a boule of chocolate cherry bread, and small seedlings of lemon thyme, basil, and Italian parsley. The seedlings have already been potted and the bread nibbled. This bread would make to-die-for bread pudding, along the lines of one of my mom's favorites--croissant bread pudding with chocolate chips and dried cranberries--but letting this loaf get stale seems like a travesty. Thinking about strawberry soup or strawberry pie...the eternal struggle between the new recipe and the tried and true.
I might have gone a little overboard, but it's better than buying shoes I don't need, right? This fresh local fare will nourish my body and spirit. (The shoes only work on the spiritual level.) I frequently suffer from buyer's guilt (variation on buyer's remorse), but never when it comes to my farmers' market purchases!
Stroganoff Struggles
A few months back I concocted a mushroom and chicken stroganoff after perusing a handful of recipes from epicurious.com. Though traditionally this dish includes beef and sour cream, my version had neither of these, but it was hands-down the best of its kind that I've ever tasted. And, since preparing and eating this dish drained me of all the weeknight energy, I never bothered to take notes or photos. With the passage of time, all memory of this event are gone...this was one of those dishes that I have repeatedly referenced in dinner-planning conversation since; "Remember that stroganoff I made? Man, that was good. I wish I'd written down a recipe."
I gave it another shot this week, but was sadly disappointed. Attempt #2 lacked the creaminess and the depth of flavor of the first one. I used onion, white button mushrooms, white wine, nutmeg, garlic, and dijon mustard. Next time I will not skimp in the cream department.
Stroganoff tips greatly appreciated!
"Digital Meal Planning": A Smart Money-Saving Idea
This is a fabulous idea!
If you're too lazy to follow the link...it's an article about a subscription service called E-Mealz that provides a week's worth of dinner menus based on that week's grocery store sales. They currently only offer menus based on Wal-Mart, Kroger, ALDI, Ralph’s and Publix grocery chains. And only $5 a month (less than many other similar services). In a family context, I'm sure the service would easily pay for itself. There's even a forthcoming "app"!
If you're too lazy to follow the link...it's an article about a subscription service called E-Mealz that provides a week's worth of dinner menus based on that week's grocery store sales. They currently only offer menus based on Wal-Mart, Kroger, ALDI, Ralph’s and Publix grocery chains. And only $5 a month (less than many other similar services). In a family context, I'm sure the service would easily pay for itself. There's even a forthcoming "app"!
Looking for something new to do with Asparagus?
I was. So was Mark Bittman. Like two peas in a pod, we are, but he's the more inventive and famous pea.
I made a half-recipe of Bittman's Asparagus Pesto and ate it on pasta (ridges a-must!) with peas. It was tasty enough to be eaten three days in a row: dinner, lunch, lunch again.
Plus, using my Cuisinart is fun! Isn't the pesto a beautiful color?
Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie
My first ever solo pie endeavor was a success!
The rhubarb and strawberry combination is one for which my mom is infamous, at least in my family. So in addition to rhubarb and strawberries being in season, Mothers' Day was the appropriate occasion for taking my own stab at it. And boy did I eventually stab at it!
I followed Mark Bittman's (all butter) pie crust recipe in addition to some over-the phone advice from Mom. My mom uses shortening but Bittman's recipe is all butter. I have no regrets about straying from the family tradition on this one. She coached me on the water ("very cold, with ice cubes!") and urged me to include some orange zest in the fruit, which surely makes a difference. With mom's blessing, I stayed true to Bittman and used the food processor to incorporate the flour and butter. I love my Cuisinart!
Ok, I'm going to get one little critique in before I rave about my success...
I didn't use enough water so the dough was a bit crumbly when I tried to roll it out. And maybe the recipe was scant or my pie plate was too big. Ok, enough of that.
I'm a pie-spert! (or will be someday if I continue at this rate)
The Farmers' Market is open!
Wooohoo! My neighborhood farmers' market opened last weekend.
Last week I bought rhubarb (my hands-down absolute favorite VEGETABLE masquerading as a fruit), asparagus, and beautiful Russian kale.
Asparagus is very spring-y and delicious roasted and grilled, but I was looking for a new platform and I found it in the Simply in Season cookbook: asparagus soup, which is not very photogenic, so I'll spare you. Unfortunately I made what seemed like minor revisions to the recipe, but they had measurable results.
1) I cooked the veggies (celery, potato, onion) in too much water and then included all this water when pureeing. The soup ended up much too thin.
2) Used too much celery, which--I read somewhere recently--has a tendency to make dishes bitter.
3) Substituted yogurt for dry milk. The recipe called for yogurt in the bowl when serving, but I blended it into the soup in place of dry milk. This last misstep was probably trivial, but since I’m splitting hairs…
My beloved rhubarb found its way into muffins, also a recipe from Simply in Season. These moist muffins contain no butter, some oil and a good bit of yogurt so it doesn't take much convincing to believe they are healthy. I will make them again, and photograph next time!
I received this beautiful cupcake Teacher Appreciation day on
Monday.
As I took my first bite, the pleasure-seeking area of my brain was confused because rather than butter and chocolate and...well...flavor, I only vaguely tasted anything; maybe it was oil and corn syrup. No human made this cupcake from anything resembling real food. I suspect a chain grocery store was behind this unfortunate mislabeling of the food "cupcake." Without much of a second thought, I exchanged the cupcake for a muffin, my second of the day. This speaks very highly of the muffin, because anyone who knows me knows that I will eat just about anything that someone else gives me especially when I'm at work and especially when it's baked goods. Disclaimer: I am by no means ungrateful for the cupcake!
When I stayed home sick with a cold the next day, I ate at least three muffins. I can’t say they healed me, but they did prevent me from the fate of a frozen burrito.
This week's farmers' market finds were more rhubarb and asparagus and strawberries. I just pulled a rhubarb-strawberry pie (my first solo pie ever!) out of the oven! Stay tuned!
Last week I bought rhubarb (my hands-down absolute favorite VEGETABLE masquerading as a fruit), asparagus, and beautiful Russian kale.
Asparagus is very spring-y and delicious roasted and grilled, but I was looking for a new platform and I found it in the Simply in Season cookbook: asparagus soup, which is not very photogenic, so I'll spare you. Unfortunately I made what seemed like minor revisions to the recipe, but they had measurable results.
1) I cooked the veggies (celery, potato, onion) in too much water and then included all this water when pureeing. The soup ended up much too thin.
2) Used too much celery, which--I read somewhere recently--has a tendency to make dishes bitter.
3) Substituted yogurt for dry milk. The recipe called for yogurt in the bowl when serving, but I blended it into the soup in place of dry milk. This last misstep was probably trivial, but since I’m splitting hairs…
My beloved rhubarb found its way into muffins, also a recipe from Simply in Season. These moist muffins contain no butter, some oil and a good bit of yogurt so it doesn't take much convincing to believe they are healthy. I will make them again, and photograph next time!
I received this beautiful cupcake Teacher Appreciation day on
Monday.As I took my first bite, the pleasure-seeking area of my brain was confused because rather than butter and chocolate and...well...flavor, I only vaguely tasted anything; maybe it was oil and corn syrup. No human made this cupcake from anything resembling real food. I suspect a chain grocery store was behind this unfortunate mislabeling of the food "cupcake." Without much of a second thought, I exchanged the cupcake for a muffin, my second of the day. This speaks very highly of the muffin, because anyone who knows me knows that I will eat just about anything that someone else gives me especially when I'm at work and especially when it's baked goods. Disclaimer: I am by no means ungrateful for the cupcake!
When I stayed home sick with a cold the next day, I ate at least three muffins. I can’t say they healed me, but they did prevent me from the fate of a frozen burrito.
This week's farmers' market finds were more rhubarb and asparagus and strawberries. I just pulled a rhubarb-strawberry pie (my first solo pie ever!) out of the oven! Stay tuned!
Birthday Party!
All week I thought about the menu for my birthday party. I knew I just wanted to have a BBQ, but I felt like I had to make it special. I worried about the vegetarians; I considered fish tacos; I toyed with making extra dessert (i.e. in addition to birthday cake). Then I realized that as much joy as I get over preparing food and sharing it with friends, I really needed to focus my energy on enjoying my birthday and not stressing out. So I (eventually) relaxed.
There were no culinary masterpieces...at least not made by me. The baked brie was made by a dear friend upon my special request, and it was greatly admired and appreciated!
Here's the brie before the oven:
And after being attacked by revelers:
Here are some photos from the spread, regrettably absent: my spectacular (half carrot-half chocolate torte) birthday cake and the bison burgers. Take my word for it, Yum! In their place, a photo documenting my boyfriend's sense of humor. You'll know it when you see it...it's also the last photo. Oh, ethnic grocery stores.
There were no culinary masterpieces...at least not made by me. The baked brie was made by a dear friend upon my special request, and it was greatly admired and appreciated!
Here's the brie before the oven:
And after being attacked by revelers:
Here are some photos from the spread, regrettably absent: my spectacular (half carrot-half chocolate torte) birthday cake and the bison burgers. Take my word for it, Yum! In their place, a photo documenting my boyfriend's sense of humor. You'll know it when you see it...it's also the last photo. Oh, ethnic grocery stores.
Cookbook Birthday Presents
Do my friends know me well, or what?!
I am so excited to get in the kitchen with my two new cookbooks, The Breakfast Book by Marion Cunningham (today's Fannie Farmer) and Simply in Season by Mary Beth Lind and Cathleen Hockman-Wert.
My mom has a shiny gold copy of The Fannie Farmer cookbook. It always seemed slightly magical in its shimmeriness. I imagine my mom's copy used to have a dust cover on it, but it was long gone by the time I ever saw it. (Its chocolate chip cookie recipe is our family go-to.) Marion Cunningham is responsible for editing the Fannie Farmer cookbook in 1979...so maybe my mom's copy predates Cunningham's contributions. Several Christmases ago my mom gave me my own copy of The Fannie Farmer Cookbook (the Cunningham edition) along with Joy of Cooking.
I'm particularly looking forward to having friends over for brunch so that I can try Cunningham's Shirred Eggs with Mixed Herbs (eggs cooked in the oven in little ramekins or a muffin tin), Bridge Creek Fresh Ginger Muffins, Rhubarb with English Custard, and Chocolate Walnut Butter Bread French Toast, and everything else!
Simply in Season is organized by season with straightforward, one-page recipes that highlight produce that is...ahem...in season. So basically, its title is incredibly descriptive. I can't wait to make its Rhubarb Muffins (I'm really pining for rhubarb these days.), Velvety Vegetable Soup, Shiitake Mushroom Pasta, and Sesame Chicken Couscous Salad (peas!). I haven't even peeked at the Summer section. Patience is a virtue.
I am so excited to get in the kitchen with my two new cookbooks, The Breakfast Book by Marion Cunningham (today's Fannie Farmer) and Simply in Season by Mary Beth Lind and Cathleen Hockman-Wert.
My mom has a shiny gold copy of The Fannie Farmer cookbook. It always seemed slightly magical in its shimmeriness. I imagine my mom's copy used to have a dust cover on it, but it was long gone by the time I ever saw it. (Its chocolate chip cookie recipe is our family go-to.) Marion Cunningham is responsible for editing the Fannie Farmer cookbook in 1979...so maybe my mom's copy predates Cunningham's contributions. Several Christmases ago my mom gave me my own copy of The Fannie Farmer Cookbook (the Cunningham edition) along with Joy of Cooking.
I'm particularly looking forward to having friends over for brunch so that I can try Cunningham's Shirred Eggs with Mixed Herbs (eggs cooked in the oven in little ramekins or a muffin tin), Bridge Creek Fresh Ginger Muffins, Rhubarb with English Custard, and Chocolate Walnut Butter Bread French Toast, and everything else!
Simply in Season is organized by season with straightforward, one-page recipes that highlight produce that is...ahem...in season. So basically, its title is incredibly descriptive. I can't wait to make its Rhubarb Muffins (I'm really pining for rhubarb these days.), Velvety Vegetable Soup, Shiitake Mushroom Pasta, and Sesame Chicken Couscous Salad (peas!). I haven't even peeked at the Summer section. Patience is a virtue.
Food Friday: "Going Green" - for Dinner?
Here's a thought-provoking blog post from a good friend of mine working on nutrition and food safety issues...
Food Friday: "Going Green" - for Dinner?
Posted using ShareThis
Food Friday: "Going Green" - for Dinner?
Posted using ShareThis
Buttery Risotto with Portobello and Parmesan
In an effort to make some comfort food on Sunday night and also clean out the cabinets a bit, I found this recipe on Epicurious. I adapted it to use Arborio rice because I discovered that the barley I have in the cabinet is not pearl barley, and would likely have taken to my 30th birthday to cook.
While trying to discern if I had pearl barley or not, I learned more about barley than I suspect many health food store employees know. (That's not to disparage very knowledgeable and helpful health food store employees!) Now I am 75% sure that the Goya barley in my cabinet is hulled barley (aka barley groats), but of course the package only says "barley," hence my uncertainty. Hulled barley is more nutritious than pearl barley because it is less processed/refined (not sure of the correct term here); only its outermost hull has been polished off. However, pretty much the only use for hulled barley is in stews and soups. And I like stew...but Sunday I wanted to throw some grains, butter and cheese in a pot and call it dinner.
This was the first time I've ever scraped the gills out of a mushroom. My initial reaction was that this sounded really fussy, but I figured out pretty quickly that the gills would have discolored the risotto, probably making it an unappetizing gray color. Point taken.
I would use more portobello next time (this was about 6 oz). Since I cut the amount of grain ingredient in half, I sort of made a half recipe, but I kept the portobello at full force. There are just never enough mushrooms. I'm frequently disappointed by the shrinkage of mushrooms.
Baaaaa! It's lamb season.
First grilling of the season!
These lamb loin chops came from the incredible little emporium of local grub, Maple Avenue Market in Vienna, VA. Its owners, Chris and Sara are also among the forces behind On the Gourmet, which, by the way, outfitted my first date with my boyfriend. He's got good taste (paté, goat cheese and flatbread crackers) and entrepreneurial foodie friends.He was also responsible for preparing these chops with a combination of bbq sauce, balsamic vinegar and pepper and grilling them to perfection.
I've been left wanting more lamb! BAAAAA!
Salads and Vinaigrette
Spring has sprung and the lettuces are growing. I signed up for a month of Arganica and ordered the $25 fresh picks box last week. I got a lot of green stuff: lettuce, spinach, chiles, sprouts, celery, cilantro, two tomatoes and two apples. I wasn't expecting to get non-local produce, the apples and celery were organic but were packaged/labeled. Oh well...I think I'll wait until the summer to try being a better locavore. For what it's worth, I searched for some more local asparagus at the grocery store the other day. I bought the asparagus from Californian among the Mexican bundles. CA is more local than Mexico, right? Hmm....that's a stretch.
Vinaigrette has always been my favorite salad dressing. Growing up my mom used to make her own "oil and vinegar" and keep it in a corked bottle in the fridge. We usually had a few other salad dressings on hand but the oil and vinegar was everyone's favorite. This week I made vinaigrette with apple cider vinegar, olive oil and some grainy dijon mustard. Putting dijon in my salad dressing makes me feel French.
Here's a salad (adapted) from the Paris Cookbook by Patricia Wells, a book I received from my college roommate while she was living in Paris. So simple: Spinach, avocado, bacon and vinaigrette. I made this two nights in a row! And ended up eating (with help from my bf) an 8 oz package of bacon in 4 days. Have I ever mentioned how much I love bacon?
Vinaigrette has always been my favorite salad dressing. Growing up my mom used to make her own "oil and vinegar" and keep it in a corked bottle in the fridge. We usually had a few other salad dressings on hand but the oil and vinegar was everyone's favorite. This week I made vinaigrette with apple cider vinegar, olive oil and some grainy dijon mustard. Putting dijon in my salad dressing makes me feel French.Here's a salad (adapted) from the Paris Cookbook by Patricia Wells, a book I received from my college roommate while she was living in Paris. So simple: Spinach, avocado, bacon and vinaigrette. I made this two nights in a row! And ended up eating (with help from my bf) an 8 oz package of bacon in 4 days. Have I ever mentioned how much I love bacon?
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