The Blithe Kitchen

Waiting for Baby

2010-10-20T11:51:00.000-04:00

There is a possibility that I have been too prepared, too soon for this baby. I mopped a week ago, cleaned the corners, washed the windows, put a meal or two in the freezer. And the baby did not come. So every day this week I sweep the floor again, wipe the spots off the floor, do another load of laundry, make another loaf of bread and eat all the easy meals that I had stockpiled, when all I actually want to do is have this baby and start our family babymoon.

So, I am saying hello here again. Mostly to distract myself, but also because there are a few things I have found lately that are too good to keep to myself.

First, yogurt cheese, otherwise known as labneh. This amazing website explains how to make it, although I confess that I am a bit less professional. I simply put the yogurt and salt into a cheesecloth-lined colander, set it over a large bowl, and leave it overnight in the fridge. I love it on toast in particular. Is it terrible to admit that I sometimes put a layer of butter on my toast, AND a layer of yogurt cheese, AND a drizzle of honey or swipe of strawberry jam? Another toast variation is found here, and this one is good enough for dinner. It is powerfully delicious.

Secondly, this crunchy broccoli salad is delightful. It was a perfect fall salad. I only wish that I had doubled the amount of the crispy fried shallots, for I loved the salty flair they added.

Finally, I have completely swallowed the hype about elderberries and immunity. Rowan is very prone to catch every cold that crosses our path, due to his respiratory issues. However, we have escaped two of the last bugs that invaded the church nursery, and I am willing to credit the elderberry. Or maybe I just really like elderberries. Regardless, I paid a fortune for a small bottle at Whole Foods, which was gone in the blink of an eye. Then I found this video and ordered a pound of dried elderberries from Mountain Rose Herbs. The savings are tremendous. The main cost is the honey, for it is essentially elderberry flavored honey. Good stuff. Completely harmless, can be eaten by the spoonful or drizzled into yogurt or ice cream, and prevents the dreaded cold...what could be better! Plus, it is fun and easy to make on a cold and gloomy day. Have I convinced anyone yet?

That's it for now. Hopefully baby will come and you will not hear from me for a very long time again:)

Hash

2010-07-12T13:27:00.000-04:00

Just a quick word about hash. For one thing, I love saying "hash". We ate "hash" for dinner, etc... For another thing, I kind of forgot about how much fun it is to fry up a bunch of random ingredients and put them all together, bound into deliciousness by the two main ingredients, fat and salt (and potatoes).

Last night we had a few things to use up, post haste. A potato. A half-pound of frozen shrimp. The first little beet greens from our garden. Mushrooms. A nearly fermented lime. I began by trying to cook them all separately. The beet greens were sauteed with garlic. The potato was chopped into tiny bits and fried with an onion. The mushrooms were sliced and the already-cooked shrimp was tossed with garlic. I had every intention of composing an elegant little plate with perfectly cooked, individual little dishes. But the heat rose, the hunger grew, the clock ticked. I threw the mushrooms into the cast iron skillet with the potatoes. Added more butter. Looked at the shrimp and garlic. Threw them in too. (Added more butter.) Finally I glanced at the beet greens, noticed they looked lonely, and tossed them in as well. More salt, a squeeze of very ripe lime juice and a hasty scoop onto the waiting plates. It was ugly, to tell you the truth. It was also not nearly enough. Rowan, who has been off-feed and sick for several days, ate so fast and so much that David and I had to share the rest of ours with him. Reluctantly. He didn't even notice the mushrooms in there, much less the dreaded slimy green things.

The moral of this story is...you can fry up a lot of things with potatoes and salt, and it will be good. Add an egg and it will probably be even better. I had forgotten this, but no longer. David actually loves it when I tell him that I am going on spate of frugality. To him, this means hashes and lentil concoctions, and Tabasco. Bless that man.

The Perfect Dinner Companion

2010-07-08T14:36:00.000-04:00

Plumped with pine nuts, cilantro, raisins and cumin....
Slathered in BBQ sauce and slipped into a crusty roll...
Simmered in a cardamom-spiked broth with chickpeas and spinach...
Dipped in a lemon and garlic yogurt sauce...
Scattered over a bed of couscous, roasted vegetables and harissa....
Tucked into a plate of spaghetti and fresh tomato sauce...
Dunked in roasted garlic mayonnaise along with roasted potatoes and green beans...
Dribbled over mashed potatoes and gravy...
Or, simply, coated in ketchup straight out of the leftovers bowl (as my son prefers them...)

Yes, I am talking about meatballs. Every time that I find myself in a budget crunch, anxious to serve good-quality meat inexpensively and unsure of what else to cook (besides tuna melts) - the lowly meatball comes to my rescue. Humble, malleable and a droll little crowd-pleaser, the meatball is a lifesaver. If you have ever had dinner at my house, chances are you that you have encountered a meatball somewhere on your plate. If you were at our wedding (six years ago!), you probably ate a meatball. I love them. I love them partly because they are delicious, and partly because they never taste the same way twice. Hence, the overwrought list beginning this post.

However, after years of haphazardly throwing meatball components in a bowl and hoping for the best, I have finally written down a formula. The basic meatball. From there, you can do whatever you want to with them.

The Basic Meatball
(serves 2-4)

1 pound ground beef (or turkey, or beef and sausage, or lamb...)
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 clove of garlic, minced
1/4 cup minced onion
1/4 cup fresh breadcrumbs
1/4 to 1/2 cup grated Parmesan
2 Tablespoons catsup
1 teaspoon salt
Pepper to taste
(Fresh parsley is always nice, regardless of cuisine)

Gently mix together with your hands (DO NOT OVERWORK!) and shape lightly into 1-2 inch balls. Place on ungreased baking sheet about 1 inch apart and bake in a 400 degree oven until done on the inside and slightly browned on the outside (about 15-20 minutes). If they are small and sturdy, you can toss them into a hot skillet and crisp them up a bit after they come out of the oven, although no one really complains about the lack of pan-frying when they are eating them, bite after delightful bite, for their dinner.

Now, let your imagination run wild!

Eating This Week...

2010-06-11T15:04:00.002-04:00

Having exhausted the internet, our budget and our taste buds last week, we are going back to the basics for this menu...

Saturday: Waffles and Bacon

Sunday (with company): Roasted Chicken and Olive Aioli, Chopped Salad, Bread

Monday (with company): Chicken Sandwiches (chicken, aioli, tomatoes, basil), Salt and Vinegar Chips, Lemon Buttermilk Sherbet

Tuesday: Eggs, somehow (maybe Turkish?)

Wednesday: Cheeseburgers and Watermelon

Thursday: Pantry Night (involving peas and harissa, probably)

Friday: TBD

PS: The brisket was as good as it smelled and fed us for days...Rowan woke up this morning at 5:00 demanding, simply, "I want meat!"

The Kitchen Today

2010-06-09T14:09:00.000-04:00

Perhaps I am driven to write because my kitchen smells so amazing. I don't even need to taste this dish to know that I will love it forever. Chipotle, molasses, cumin, tomatoes, vinegar, slowly braising brisket...the smell is mingling with the welcome rain to make the whole world seem delicious. It was also incredibly easy. It is two o'clock and dinner is done. All I have to do is make a quick coleslaw, retrieve the red onions currently pickling in the fridge, and warm up the tortillas. What a beautiful day.

In other menu news, the pizza was delightful. I finally succeeded in stretching the crust suitably thin after an overnight rest in the fridge, and I loved every salty, chewy bite. The topping was fantastic, although I left out the egg and preferred it with the prosciutto and parmesan baked right along with the rest of the pizza instead of scattered on top. I have a suspicion that my pizza appreciation mojo is not sufficiently evolved.

As far as the Rosemary Olive-Oil Cake and the Carrot Harissa Salad...well, they have already been admired in words far more eloquent than my own, and all I can do is agree with them. They are both recipes that I will keep for a long, long time. The Lemon Buttermilk Popsicles? Too sweet, and Rowan highly disapproved of the largish chunks of lemon zest. I guess we are back to our old (and more healthy) combo of plain yogurt, OJ and frozen banana and mango.

One final bit. I finally bought another Lodge cast iron skillet, after deserting ours in the mad rush away from Florida. How did I live so long without it? It fries a perfect egg for us, every morning. It tolerates the broiler. And I just seared the brisket and toasted the spices in drippings, only to wipe the residue away without even a hint of exertion or elbow grease. It's proving to be a Most Valuable Player in my kitchen.

That's all. I am enjoying life and my kitchen is blithe once again. Thanks for listening.

The First June Menu

2010-06-04T14:58:00.000-04:00

This is going to be a very June sort of week. A number of delightful things are happening... Sarah's birthday is on Tuesday, which she is celebrating with a glamorous picnic in Annapolis...our dear neighbors are getting married on Friday (at a castle!)...and Saturday brings the infamous Honfest to our back door, during which David will be playing the lap steel as our friend Cameron covers some Hank Williams tunes!

In keeping with such a fun week, our menu is chock full of recipes I have been anxious to try. A summery menu, a spicy menu, a June menu. I will let you know how it all turns out.

Saturday: Lentil and Rice Salad, Lacinato Kale Salad, Baguette and Chile Chocolate Granita

Sunday: Asparagus and Prosciutto Pizza

Monday: Southwestern Pulled Brisket (including the Slaw and the Pickled Onions)

Tuesday: Rosemary Olive-Oil Cake and Carrot-Harissa Salad for Sarah's Picnic

Wednesday: Pantry Night (i.e. use things up and attempt to be frugal night)

Thursday: Rehearsal Dinner at Abacrombie's

Friday: Wedding!

Snack and Lunch Ideas: Spiced Nuts and Seeds, Lemon Buttermilk Popsicles, Homemade Creme Fraiche Dip with Veggies and Smoky Deviled Eggs

The Garden

2010-06-03T14:32:00.000-04:00

It is June, and we are settling into summer with ease. The mornings are brilliant, the afternoons sticky, the evenings practically paradise. And I finally feel like enjoying life again.

Not only did summer bring relief from constant nausea, it also brought us a lovely plot in the local community garden. We had already started a wee stoop garden...a wine crate with lettuce and radishes, two buckets of Tumbling Tom tomatoes and tins of basil, cilantro, mint and rosemary. But now we have real riches. Ten by fifteen feet of real dirt! This last weekend we poured body and soul into that dirt, and are now waiting anxiously for carrots and beets and beans, parsnips and cucumbers, kohlrabi and squash and marigolds. We were also given four tomato plants, two basil, six kale and two cabbages, which seem to have survived our novice touch thus far. I cannot even say how much joy this tiny bit of land has given me already. Just washing our filthy jeans and T-shirts after the long hard day of tilling and planting made me feel a bit more solid. Cleaner, even. Difficult to explain unless you have ever had dirt on on your knees and a blister on your hand and something to show for your work.

Menu Plan Monday

2010-03-15T14:26:00.004-04:00

I'm putting up my menu today in honor of Menu Plan Monday, even though I usually start my menu cycle on Saturday, the day I go to the Farmer's Market. This week, however, has been crazy. I think I was lucky to get a plan made by Sunday.
(The theme of this week? Tired and Broke. But Cheerful.)

Sunday: Tex-Mex Tacos
Monday: Leftovers (David and Ro are on their own...I get to go to a Girl's Night!)
Tuesday: Turkey Burgers and Sweet Potato Fries
Wednesday: Mediterranean Bean Soup and Bread
Thursday: Tuna Melts and Green Beans
Friday: Homemade Pizza (leftover vegies and maybe sausage)

Breakfasts: Fried Eggs and Toast (and Oatmeal once a week)
Lunches: Leftovers, or PBJ sandwiches
Snacks: Cheese, Apples, Bananas, Raisins, Yogurt

I may be back later this week with the recipe for the soup....it is an old favorite from the Study Center, and makes me long for Spring!

Worth Making

2010-02-10T14:48:00.000-05:00

This is all I have for now. Two links. Two delicious meals that I can recommend whole-heartedly.

First, Ginger Fried Rice. I have always had problems with making my own fried rice. I inevitably end up dousing it in soy sauce, longing for flavor and wondering where the ginger and the garlic and the sesame oil disappeared to, for I love them so. This recipe solves the problem so elegantly that I felt myself in the presence of a genius when I made it...which I was. It was created by this guy.

Secondly, Lentils and Sausage with a Tomato Salsa by Jamie Oliver. Need I say more?

Wholesome

2010-01-27T22:01:00.003-05:00

Note: I recently revised this recipe to make one nicely-sized loaf...it's a little more convenient.

Despite the recent cooking disasters, my kitchen has recently been glowing under the influence of my Christmas present from Mom and Dad. This little contraption has made quite a difference already. I love it with all my bread-baking heart. The hand-cranked version, which I have, gives me quite a pleasant sense of industriousness and freedom from the energy grid (as well as a gentle sheen of perspiration).

I was thrilled to find Prairie Gold wheat berries (grown in Montana very near to my dear old valley) at the local Amish Market for an excellent price. It has traveled through my wheat grinder and become any number of good things - breads and muffins and cookies and pitas - some better than others but all much healthier than before. I baked with whole grains before the grinder, but even King Arthur cannot redeem a whole wheat flour that has been sitting in the grocery store for goodness knows how long. I am amazed at the tenderness that freshly ground flour delivers.

I wish I could put the recipe for an incredible Molasses Rye Cookie here. But I baked it directly out of this cookbook and didn't change a thing. I keep checking this book out from the library and copying a few more recipes...a Cornmeal, Rye and Sesame loaf was another winner. Find it if you can, for it is a treasure chest of transitional whole grain recipes.

I can point you, however, to this recipe for bran muffins. They are made with actual wheat bran rather than the cereal, and take well to the additions of bananas and raisins or berries. Rowan gobbles them up happily.

I can also, without further ado, give you the recipe that raised me and possibly saved my mother's sanity. She was, as I understand it, utterly determined to make a good wheat bread early in her bread-baking career as a young wife. And believe me, "utterly determined" does not quite describe Mom's level of stubbornness and perfectionism. Let us just say that Dad became well acquainted with every species of bread-pudding in existence, for Mom is frugal as well as stubborn, and would not relinquish the leaden loaves to the garbage. Happily for us all, she found this recipe. It is called, appropriately enough:

Heavenly Whole Wheat Bread
(makes 1 loaf)

Mix the following three ingredients and allow to soak for thirty minutes.

1 and 1/8 cups lukewarm water
1 and 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
2 tablespoons honey

Add the following:

2 tablespoons oil
1 and 1/2 cups bread flour (all-purpose would work as well)
1 tablespoon gluten
1 and 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons instant yeast (preferably SAF)

Proceed as usual. If you are using a bread machine, just let it do its thing (I use the dough cycle and then shape and bake my own loaves). If you are doing it by hand, then you know what to do. Mix, knead, rest, punch down, shape into loaves, rest and bake.

Mom usually made a much bigger batch of this dough, shaping several loaves. Then, on very, very good days, she would make fry bread by frying disks of the dough in oil until they were chewy and fantastic. Could there be anything better than that? With honey? Probably not, my friends, probably not.

Oops

2010-01-18T14:49:00.000-05:00

I have had quite a spate of cooking failures lately. And as my familiarity with the genre grows, I am beginning to notice a few rules - principles, if you will - that govern these unfortunate incidents.

1) Cooking failures usually involve at least one, if not several, relatively expensive ingredients. Take, for instance, the evening in which I tried to roast fish, top it with a rustic tomato sauce, and serve it over quinoa. There was no recipe for this. I was freelancing, which was my first but certainly not last mistake. The fish (previously frozen) was more reminiscent of rubber than of anything else. The "rustic" tomato sauce was partially sweet, partially sour, and wholly unpleasant. The quinoa(s), poor things, were simply boring accessories to a tragic crime of a meal. It was meant to be a special and leisurely Friday night treat. It ended with a less-than-happy cook slamming dishes into the dish drainer.

2) Cooking failures often result in vast quantities of leftovers. Very unwanted leftovers. In an attempt to be as fascinating and casually glamorous as Nigella Lawson, I decided to make a batch of her holiday Chocolate Chip Chili. How could this possibly go wrong? But I should have known. I am not Nigella Lawson, I am not darkly gorgeous, and I do not have my own private butcher to to set aside the tenderest of beef shank for me. So I substituted ground beef and soldiered on. The beans I cooked myself (kidney beans) and probably (ahem) did not make sure that they boiled for a few important minutes. The beef stank as soon as it hit the pan. The chorizo was bland, the chocolate disappeared into the tomato sauce and the beans needed salt. But boy, did we have a lot of chili. And boy, did it upset our stomachs. Did I throw it out as I should have? No, of course not. There were expensive ingredients to be redeemed! So I froze it for awhile, just to enhance the flavors. Then I snuck it into next week's menu, hidden under a crust of cornbread (full of cheese and corn and organic flours...see Rule #1). I think by now you all get the idea of this story. And it finally ended up in the garbage. Where it belonged.

3) Cooking failures can often be prevented by listening to the little voice in your head that says, "Don't make the cookies with the quinoa, Axon...you don't need to! Just because it is in a cool cookbook, and you like weird recipes, and you have a sweet tooth! Don't do it! Don't waste the butter and the flour and the calories on a cookie that will taste like underdone tapioca with raisins! Stop! You are not listening to me!" I am now trying to pay closer attention to that voice in my head. And just in case you were wondering, the cookie recipe took three precious eggs, a tablespoon of equally precious vanilla, and made four dozen huge, unpleasant cookies. I rest my case.

Wednesday

2010-01-15T14:47:00.000-05:00

Spiced Red Lentil Dal

Steamed Butternut Squash and Carrots

(doused in butter and sea salt)

Tortillas

(for scooping)

Cheap, healthy, and delicious.

Thanksgiving Menu

2009-11-18T10:13:00.002-05:00

We will be alone for Thanksgiving this year. I am taking comfort in planning and cooking as if we weren't. Maybe we will will find a lonely college student in the next week, and just in case, this is what we will entice them with.

Thanksgiving Menu 2009

Cajun Spiced Cornish Game Hens with Cornbread Stuffing
Potato and Fennel Gratin
Sauteed Brussels Sprouts with Lemon and Pistachios
Southern Sweet Potato Casserole
Cranberry Sauce with Orange
Crescent Rolls
Pumpkin Pie

There. I feel better.

Proto-Dough for the Proto-Purist, and Biscuits

2009-11-17T13:43:00.004-05:00

I think I mentioned once before something about my romanticized fondness for sourdough. Cowboys, sagebrush, beans, mom's old green crock and pancakes all figure into the equation. But I have come to discover that the sourdough I grew up on is something which purists can not sanction. It is started, lo and behold, with yeast. Not wild yeast, but commercial yeast, and is therefore an animal of quite a different kind.

And I say to this (for now)...oh well. There are many other ways in which this sourdough seems to break the rules. It lives contentedly by itself in the fridge, developing an alcoholic blanket. If you are in need of it, it asks nothing more than to be taken out the night before, stirred, given a dose of flour and water, and left undisturbed until morning. Then it cheerfully surrenders itself to pancakes, or bread, or biscuits, and goes back to the fridge to await its next mission. Low maintenance doesn't even begin to describe it.

I was pleased to find that Alton Brown is also fond of this unassuming form of sourdough. He even coined a term for it. He calls it proto-dough, and while I still unabashedly call mine sourdough, I do think it is kind of catchy. I like his instructions for proto-dough, which are incredibly similar to how Mom taught me, and if anyone is overwhelmed by the thought of starting and maintaining a sourdough, then please, start with this. It does, with use, develop some wild yeast of its own, and though it is not incredibly tangy to begin with it will sour nicely with age. Here are his instructions, along with a link to a recipe for a Country Loaf, which I have tried several times in my bread machine and been quite pleased with each time. (Note: at least in my experience, sourdough bread may be different every time you bake it. It is part of the adventure.)

But let's not talk about bread. Sourdough bread is fine and all, but sourdough biscuits are something in a class all by themselves and I have never, ever, seen them anywhere but Mom's kitchen and my own. The recipe comes from an old, old western cookbook and you can't help but picture a Dutch oven full of beans when you see these particular biscuits. They are not the tall and fluffy biscuits made for a spoonful of jam or gravy. Sourdough biscuits are humble round disks, low-rising, with a chewy golden crust and and a substantial but tender inside. They are divine as breakfast sandwiches, with a fried egg and sausage tucked inside. They are wonderful with hearty soups, capable of swiping up the last best bites like a ciabatta, maybe, or focaccia. My parents use them for sandwiches when they have long days of riding, for they can endure a rough day in a saddlebag and still come up whole for lunch. They are, in my book, indispensable.

Old-Fashioned Sourdough Biscuits
(makes approximately 15 biscuits)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Place a generous amount (about 3 tablespoons) of canola (or other) oil on a cookie sheet and tilt to coat the pan evenly.

Begin by mixing together thoroughly (if you don't you will have little brown spots in the biscuit from the sourdough reacting with the baking soda, but don't worry, the spots are harmless):

1/2 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar

In a medium bowl place:

2 cups sourdough

Add the flour mixture to the sourdough and mix lightly. Then start adding more flour until a soft dough is formed. The dough will pull away from the sides of the bowl and form a sticky but kneadable mound. The amount of flour you need will depend on the wetness of your sourdough. I usually end up using about 1 and 1/2 cups more flour.

Gently turn the dough out onto a well-floured surface and knead lightly about 5 times. Roll out into a circle about 1/2 inch thick. Use a biscuit cutter or drinking glass to cut into biscuits. We like our baking powder biscuits small in diameter, but our sourdough biscuits large (about a 4 inch circle).

Take each biscuit and swirl in the oil on the pan, then flip over so that both sides get gently coated. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until the bottoms are golden brown and the tops slightly less so.
Cut open with a serrated knife and serve, or simply eat them as they are.

Pantry Dinners: A Roundup

2009-11-01T15:02:00.006-05:00

I've commandeered the term "Pantry Dinners" to unite and identify two different species of meals. You are probably familiar with both of them, although some of you have probably banned the second kind from your kitchens.

First, there are the virtuous Pantry Dinners. You clear your mind, put on your apron, open the fridge and summon a decent meal from virtually nothing. Some of these are miracles of simplicity, others are skillful compilations and still others are what I like to refer to mercifully as "hashes". All of them are frugal and good for the spirit and the budget, if not the body.

Secondly, there are the not-so-virtuous Pantry Dinners. You flounce into the kitchen, open the cupboard doors, and nearly weep with relief when you see a convenient box and possibly a can sitting within your weary reach. These meals are sometimes frugal, nominally healthy, but always good for the mother who has reached the end of her proverbial rope.

I try to incorporate at least one of the first kind into my menus each week, whether that means actually putting it on the menu or just leaving it to chance on a Thursday night. The second kind often goes unmentioned but lurks (benevolently) in the shadows.

Pantry Dinners of the First Kind: The Roundup

Southern Cajun Rice
A tip from my dear cousin Sarah in Houston. She said, and I quote because I like it, "With ANY leftover cooked meat, from chicken to roast, steak, pork chops, sausage, you can brew up a beautiful pot of jasmine rice, chop up the meat or meats, saute it with onion and garlic, and toss all together with a generous dollop of cajun seasoning and salt, and it is DELICIOUS!" Somehow I had forgotten how much I like jasmine rice. And Cajun seasoning. And meat. Why have I never put them together?

Pizza and Quiches
This is what my friend Katy makes for pantry dinners (who, by the way, is the only friend I have who is actually LIVING the dream that so many of us talk about...she milks goats, grows a gorgeous garden, preserves food, raises chickens, teaches her brilliant son Sam and just had a new baby girl two days ago...I miss you Katy!) As she reminded me, you can make pizza or quiche out of anything, and if you have a bread machine to make your pizza dough for you then it requires a tiny bit of foresight but very little work. (Pie dough, however, is quite another story for quite another post.)

Fried Rice
A suggestion from Lisa, and one which I need to remember more often. My favorite one involves simply rice, peas, onions, garlic, parmesan and lemon zest, with a little bit of egg. I usually have all of these things in the pantry.

Egg Foo Yong with Rice
Speaking of eggs, this was a treasured meal from my childhood, straight from the battered pages of Betty Crocker. Beat eggs (about 1 1/2 per person) thoroughly and add some salt, some onion and some bits of this and that (finely chopped pork, diced peppers, bean sprouts, whatever you have around). Heat some oil in a skillet (medium heat) and pour about 1/4 cup of the egg mixture into the skillet. Gently push it into a thin patty as it cooks. When the eggs are set flip it over and cook until the other side is brown. Serve on a bed of rice with the following sauce: combine 1/2 cup water, 1 teaspoon cornstarch, 1 teaspoon sugar, 1 teaspoon vinegar and 2 tablespoons plus 1 1/2 teaspoons soy sauce in a saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Boil and stir for 1 minute, until thickened. Sauce serves 2, so multiply if necessary.
Trust me, this is delicious.

Fried Egg Sandwiches
Notice how eggs figure so heavily in this list? Nothing is better than a lightly scrambled and fried egg on fresh bread with lots of butter, mayonnaise, raw onion, freshly ground pepper and salt.

Poached Eggs over Sauteed Greens (with Polenta, or Toast, or Baguette, or Fried Potatoes)
Once again, the inevitable egg. Thank you, Lord, for chickens.

Stewed Tomatoes and Macaroni
This is another childhood meal, one that we would have when Dad was gone, as he was not particularly enthusiastic about it! Mom canned her own stewed tomatoes, so she would simply boil some macaroni noodles, heat a can of tomatoes, and serve with toast and parmesan cheese. Mmmm.

Biscuits
Yes, that's right. Just biscuits. I'm indulging in a little reminiscence now, and biscuits were my specialty as a young cook. Actually, it was the only thing I knew how to cook. So Mom would let me make biscuit dough and then improvise with whatever I could find (not much) to create a multi-course meal of...biscuits. Biscuits with specks of cheese. Biscuits with dollops of jam. Biscuits made into cinnamon rolls. You get the idea here. A patient mother, hungry siblings, and a dad very fond of raw biscuit dough. It was an amicable arrangement.

Pantry Dinners of the Second Kind: A Confession
(and no, Trader Joe's is not paying me...)

TJ's Organic Shells with White Cheddar combined with TJ's Turkey Chili

TJ's Organic Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup combined with TJ's Tomato-less Sweet and Spicy Corn Salsa

Annie's Mac-n-Cheese with Peas

Note: this list serves partly as a recommendation of these tasty dishes and partly as a testament to the success of Trader Joe's sample program. It's a cautionary tale.

A Few Things

2009-10-11T13:38:00.003-04:00

First, this article about feeding a family on a food-stamp budget in Baltimore. I continue to be very interested in the idea that eating nutritiously (and deliciously) must be possible for everyone, regardless of their budget. I also recognize, however, that it is not without a significant investment of time, thought, effort, and yes, money to accomplish this, particularly in the urban environment.

Secondly, a question of paradigm. Is it better to make a menu, then a list, and go to the store to buy what you need for that particular menu? Or is it better to have a well-stocked pantry from which you cook, ad lib, and replenish as needed? I think that I am trying to find that place in the middle, as usual.

Thirdly, I am compiling a list of "Pantry Dinners". The things that you cook to fill in a Sunday night or to balance an expensive dish on the menu or to pull together a meal when there seems to be nothing else to eat. Things like fried egg sandwiches. I would love your suggestions.

Bounty

2009-09-26T15:17:00.003-04:00

Last week, just after writing the post about stocking our pantry and finding good food sources, I took myself to the Waverly Farmer's Market and thought that I had gone to foodie heaven. It was astounding. I found everything: meat, dairy, eggs, mushrooms, beans, flowers, vegetables, fruit and even a table selling spices in one-ounce bags. Even more serendipitously, I ran into a woman from our church who knows much about finding real food in Baltimore. She had loads of helpful advice for me and reassured me that the market is open year-round, although it becomes a little smaller in the winter. Basically, I'm saying, this market just might be the answer.

This Saturday morning was our inaugural visit, armed with lists and bags and my entire grocery budget in cash. We got some coffee, a muffin, and a delicious loaf of sourdough wheat and settled David and Rowan on the grass near the outskirts. Then I began what I like to call my Babette-act. I pretend that I am a wise and discerning French woman, basket in hand, boldly and confidently choosing the best from the bounty of produce around her. The truth is a bit more complicated (cash falling out of pocket, bags hanging off of tired arms, ten trips back and forth to decide what vendor to buy a tomato from...) but I find that the imagery helps. And boy did I have a good time.

Here is the bounty, in a long, long sentence of food affection: huge, yellow onions; fresh mint and thyme; tomatoes specifically chosen by the vendor to last until Thursday; precious, little cucumbers; garlic; heirloom apples; rainbow chard; turnips; red potatoes; carrots; celery; sweet, Italian eggplant; cream-top whole milk; ground lamb; eggs; a three-pound chicken and one of the most beautiful bouquets I have ever seen. Dare I say what it cost? I'm still debating whether it is the cheapest way to go, but I think that it was definitely one of the most pleasurable ways I've ever spent sixty dollars on groceries. We still had to go to Trader Joe's for a few more standard items, although I could have gotten cream and yogurt and butter right there at the market as well. In the end, we landed within our budget for the week (although our budget is bigger than I would like) and I have already schemed how I can stretch some produce with a few pantry items that I have been needing to use (quinoa, black beans, azuki beans and rice). Once again, I'll let you know how it goes.

Cravings

2009-09-24T12:44:00.003-04:00

Currently craving Yeasted Popcorn and Sliced Apples and This.
I think our Friday night just got planned.

Roasted Things

2009-09-21T21:11:00.006-04:00

Sometimes I feel very grateful for my life. Last night was one of those times.

It was a beautiful fall evening, just a little bit crisp around the edges but warm enough to stay outside until the sun went down. We had delightful people at our house, some new friends and and some old, filling our porch with laughter and patiently playing cars with Rowan. They were drinking wine and eating some pretty fantastic eggplant dip from Sarah. But I, I was the lucky one. I was cooking...slowly chopping vegetables, tossing them with olive oil and kosher salt, lining them up in the hot, hot oven to roast until they took on a sweet life of their own. As far as earthly happiness goes, my cup was pretty full. A little music, some happy and hungry people to feed, a few vegetables from the farmer's market and a big pot of polenta...I can't think of much that I like better.

Should you have such a fall evening and a few friends of your own to feed, here are the guide lines - I really can't even call it a recipe - for Roasted Vegetables and Polenta. (Keep in mind that all of the vegetables can be changed up. These just happen to be what we ate last night. The only thing you have to remember is that the root vegetables take the longest, so put them in the oven first.)

Roasted Vegetables, Sauteed Greens and Polenta
Serves 6

1 medium winter squash (butternut, acorn, kabocha...)
1 pound carrots
2 crisp apples
2 red onions
1 pound green beans
6 heads of garlic
2 pounds of kale (or spinach, or chard)
1 lemon
Kosher salt
Olive oil

6 tablespoons butter
1 cup chopped onion
2 cups of stoneground cornmeal
8 cups water
1 cup grated parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary

Begin with an oven heated to 425 degrees.

Squash: cube into 1-2 inch pieces, place in a large mixing bowl, toss with a tablespoon or two of olive oil and a sprinkling of kosher salt, spread in a single layer on a heavy cookie sheet or roasting pan, and roast for 45 minutes to an hour, or until they are tender and browned around the edges.
Carrots: cut into slender sticks (as uniform as possible), then treat them exactly as you did the squash only they will probably only need about 45 minutes.
Garlic: remove excess skin from the outside of the whole heads. Slice off the top of the heads, exposing a bit of the cloves inside. Set on a sheet of aluminum foil, cut side up, drizzle each head with a bit of olive oil, wrap up rather tightly and put in the oven to roast directly on the rack. They will be done when the cloves are soft and slightly brown, about 45 minutes.
Apples and Onions: cube the apples and cut the onions into wedges, toss and roast together on another pan for about 35 minutes. The apples will be soft and the onions should be soft with a little bit of color on the edges.
Green Beans: trim and leave whole, toss and roast for about 30 minutes until they are crinkly and brown in spots.

Here's the thing about roasting vegetables. Roast them until they taste good. They taste good when they are right on the edge of being overdone. Don't worry too much about exact times because it will change with the oven and the vegies. If you have to take some out before others, just pop them back in for a couple of minutes before serving to crisp them up.

MEANWHILE, as all those vegetables are roasting merrily away, make your polenta, which will take about 40 minutes to cook. Melt the butter in a large stockpot and add the cup of chopped onion. Saute the onion until it is beginning to color, then add 6 cups of water and bring to a boil. While the water is heating, mix 2 more cups of water with the 2 cups of cornmeal. Whisk this mixture slowly into the boiling water, then lower to the heat to medium low. Watch and stir often, lowering the heat if it is violently sputtering or sticking to the bottom. You want it to bubble cheerfully and mildly as it gradually thickens for about 25 minutes. It is done when it holds its shape as a plump spoonful (it will thicken somewhat more as it cools). Add the parmesan cheese, rosemary, salt and pepper to taste.

ALSO, as the vegies roast and the polenta bubbles, heat some olive oil in a large, deep skillet. Trim the kale of its thick stems and coarsely chop the rest. Add to the heated oil and saute (if you have more greens then your pan can hold just wait a minute...the greens will shrink and then you can add more). Salt lightly, then add a tablespoon of so of water and cover for a few minutes until the greens are tender but still bright and fresh. Sprinkle with fresh lemon juice before serving.

FINALLY, serve each plate with a big scoop of polenta, a forkful of greens, and a big helping of roasted vegetables. And as always...bread and wine are never out of place...

The Rowhouse

2009-09-17T14:11:00.006-04:00

So here is the reality. We actually live in a rowhouse, a pale, blue rowhouse with a white porch on the front and a slightly purple door. We inhabit the first floor, where tall, tall windows reach for the light and old furniture seems to feel right at home. Outside, we watch the sun go down over the trees in the park across the street. In this way, I don't feel so very far from that airy farmhouse in the country.

My kitchen is quite large for a rowhouse, and is well-stocked if not in groceries than in cupboards. I am comfortable in my kitchen. It is part of the large room that serves as our kitchen, dining and living room, and therefore, is never lonely.

I am working on my pantry. I have found grocery shopping to be a complicated affair here in Baltimore. We lack may things that those of you in the Northwest seem to take for granted, things like well-stocked, independent grocery stores with glorious sections of bulk goods, and access to companies like Azure Standard. At this point I find myself driving seven miles to Trader Joe's every week, as well as stopping at our local Super Fresh and occasionally going to Whole Foods to mourn over their woefully limited bulk section. Then I remind myself that obtaining food is not necessarily supposed to be easy and that shopping is my modern burden (though truthfully I would almost rather chop a chicken's head off than go to Trader Joe's on a weekend afternoon). I have yet to sign up for a CSA and although there are several farmer's markets in the area I have not been able to settle on one for our weekly shopping needs. This, however, is no fault of Baltimore but simply my own organizational shortcomings. In short, I have much work to do.

Therefore, I am using this post as accountability-accountability for getting my city pantry stocked in a responsible and frugal fashion. For establishing a rhythm of shopping that accommodates both budget and time. For setting in motion some new habits of preservation and simplification.

I'll let you know how it goes.

The Farmhouse

2009-09-09T14:32:00.005-04:00

There is a farmhouse that lives only in my imagination. Like all imaginary farmhouses, it is remarkably amenable to change. Sometimes it is the tall and friendly, sage-green farmhouse of my childhood, with a porch on the front and a barn across the creek. Sometimes it is a thick-walled adobe, haunted by sagebrush, pine and the sun shining through gently rounded windows. But all of my farmhouse's myriad manifestations have two important things in common: first, a kitchen filled with light, and secondly, a well-stocked pantry.

Imagine, if you will. A huge and unwieldy armoire hides row upon row of preserves, jams, jellies, pickles and fruit. Spices lurk in shadowy corners. Beans fill orderly jars while oils and vinegars cluster in their slender bottles. Down below, in a cool, dark cupboard, grains live in bins, along with flours and sugars. The refrigerator is full of milk, cheese, cream and yogurt, with lemons for friendly company. Packages of meat, butter and breadcrumbs sleep in the frosty depths of the freezer. Outside (this may be the best part) a small stone root cellar guards more jars of summer bounty, as well as crocks of sauerkraut and baskets of humble root vegetables, maybe a bottle or two of chokecherry wine. And remember, this is an imaginary farmhouse. Dust does not exist. More importantly, neither do spiders. Neither do mice.

But I exist there sometimes, in my imagination, slamming the screen door, my apron full of eggs from the pristine, poopless chicken coop.

Two (Relatively Healthy) Snacks and a Thank You

2009-08-20T11:23:00.006-04:00

I owe my friend Sarah much more than I could outline in one post. But two things must be mentioned here as indicative of her creativity and resourcefulness. First, she photographed, designed and helped me put up the new header for this blog. Heck, she probably even handpicked the blueberries. Secondly, she maintains this tumblr, which acts as a bit of a goldpan in which she swirls the muddied particles of the internet and ends up with a few good nuggets for people like me, who find the whole thing rather overwhelming. Recently on that tumblr she posted a link for this amazing snack . If you don't think snacks should be described as amazing, consider a nutritious and delicious ice cream made of just one ingredient. In three minutes. That is amazing. So thanks Sarah. As usual. We loved it.

This second snack is the ubiquitous zucchini bread of summer. I searched the internet for days to find the perfect recipe before doing what I always end up doing-opening up one of my old cookbooks and hoping for the best, even without eighty-five reviews and a star-rating. It turned out beautifully, moist and flavorful with a crunchy and caramelly top. I added some wheat flour and wheat germ, cut back on the sugar, and eliminated the pecans. Half of it became a classic loaf and the other half became nine large muffins.

Classic Zucchini Bread
Adapted from Quick Breads, Soups and Stews by Mary Gubser

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
3-4 tablespoons wheat germ
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 medium eggs
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup light oil
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups grated zucchini

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Prepare two 8x4x3 loaf pans or one loaf pan and one muffin pan (I use melted butter to coat the pans).

Combine the flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. Sift, if you are ambitious. In another large bowl beat the eggs until they are foamy. Blend in the sugar, then the oil and vanilla. Add the dry ingredients slowly, stirring between additions in order to incorporate them completely. Fold in the zucchini. Divide the batter into the pans. Begin testing the loaves for doneness after one hour. (The muffins will take about half that time.) When the breads are done, cool them in the pans on a wire rack for about 15 minutes. Remove them to a wire rack to finish cooling.

Marlena and Me

2009-08-11T11:32:00.008-04:00

Marlena Spieler has been teaching me how to cook and influencing my taste ever since the day (many, many years ago) that Mom came home with a colorful paperback called From Pantry to Table: Creative Cooking From the Well-Stocked Kitchen. I couldn't help but listen to Marlena. Her writing was as lively and captivating as her recipes were, full of (then) exotic ingredients, self-deprecating humor, hints of life and travel in far-flung countries and casual suggestions for tweaking her recipes as if you knew what you were doing. Her recipes were primarily prose, her directions were casual, and her voice was the friendliest and smartest I had ever encountered in a cookbook. I read it from cover to cover. Her words became part of the running cookbook in my head, and the pictures that she painted of food shaped my ideas of what I wanted to cook and how I wanted to live with food. I loved her unapologetic passion for garlic and her way of dancing through the Mediterranean for flavors, then throwing in an ingredient from Asia or South America just for kicks. Her food is spicy, brash, and vibrant, but simple all the same. If you can find one of her many books, particularly this one, do get it. She will make you want to cook. Immediately.

This recipe, shaped from two of her recipes and a casual suggestion, became one of the few dishes that I genuinely felt pleased with almost every time I made it as a relatively new cook. It is casual, messy and bright in flavor. And I apologize to Dad for posting yet another chicken recipe. I'm seriously not even that fond of chicken, I swear. Next up, meatballs and pie!

Rosemary Garlic Chicken Sandwiches
Adapted from From Pantry to Table, by Marlena Spieler

Marinated Chicken:

4 chopped garlic cloves
2 tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons lemon juice
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (the sandwiches will be easier to eat if you pound these a little bit)

Combine the first four ingredients and pour over the chicken breasts. Let marinate for at least 20 minutes. Meanwhile, make the aioli.

Olive Aioli:

2 minced garlic cloves
3 tablespoons chopped Kalamata olives
1 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary
1/2 cup good mayonnaise
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

Puree garlic and olives in a food processor or blender, then add rosemary and mayonnaise and blend well. Drizzle in the olive oil slowly. When it is fully combined, add the lemon juice and chill for a bit while you grill the chicken breasts.

The Sandwich:

4 large crusty rolls
4 rosemary-garlic grilled chicken breasts
Olive aioli
Roasted red peppers
Arugula or another herby and robust lettuce mix

Slather the rolls with the aioli, pile on the chicken, peppers and lettuce, and enjoy.

Two Dinners

2009-08-04T17:55:00.007-04:00

Some of us buy whole chickens from local farms and cut them up with sharp knives and great courage (that would be you, Sarah). Some of us guiltily continue to buy the already-cut-up, "best parts" natural chicken at Trader Joe's and ignore the voices in our heads. The package of chicken contains three thighs, three legs, and two huge, bone-in breasts (I know...just picture that poor chicken!)

Regardless, I've recently discovered that this package lends itself to two lovely and easy dinners. First, this dinner, using the thighs and legs. And then, later, this recipe for roasted, bone-in chicken breasts, which does make a mess in the oven but is wonderfully juicy and moist. This time I added a potato, a couple of carrots and some garlic tossed with olive oil to roast in the oven as well. An avocado plus a loaf of daily bread equals a delightful dinner and an even more delightful lunch tomorrow. And all the grease in my oven equals a forced cleaning...not, technically, a bad thing.

Note: I don't have an oven-safe fry pan for the second recipe, but it works just as well to fry the breasts in a fry pan and then transfer them to a roasting pan for the oven.

"Who Made This Cake?"

2009-07-25T07:12:00.005-04:00

We have a new favorite book at our house. I think David and I like it as much as Rowan.

What could be more fun than an army of tiny, earnest construction workers who take on secret cooking jobs with their "big" equipment? Think of front loaders shoveling butter into dump trucks, cranes cracking eggs, helicopters landing decorations on top. The words are minimal but the illustrations are beautifully done and full of stories.

And now, when I cook, all I can think about is what I might need an excavator for, if I was one-inch tall.

Testing

2009-07-08T15:10:00.006-04:00

Sometimes my ideals undergo a little bit of testing. Right now is one of those times, when I have to remember that a 'blithe' kitchen takes into account all of life's vicissitudes and remains true as a general description rather than a moment by moment state.

Since I returned home from Montana we have been a bit off, first with teething (Ro) and then with the stomach flue (me). Neither of these things are conducive to summery menu plans and cheerful experimenting in the kitchen. In fact, I am avoiding the kitchen, which is wreaking havoc with our budget and probably our moods. I feel, however, that an end is in sight.

With that hope in mind, here is a picture of a picnic that could have been terrible but was redeemed, quite simply, by a baguette. On the Fourth of July we had a picnic in the park across the street. It was meant to be ideal (back when food sounded good)-slow roasted tomatoes, bleu cheese, a lemony potato salad, garlicky green beans, and the ubiquitous baguette. However, Rowan's foul teething humor meant that he was not enjoying this elegant picnic whatsoever, and therefore, neither were we. But who knew that a baguette could be such a good thing for poor painful gums?

I am grateful to say that the evening ended rather well after all.

And hopefully, we will all be back to normal, very, very soon. See you then.

Notes From Montana

2009-06-25T11:37:00.009-04:00

Rowan and I are in Montana for a week, where it is so astoundingly beautiful that God has graced it with clouds of mosquitoes and pollen to remind me that Montana is not Paradise. Otherwise I may have found it confusing. There is a porch dripping with flowers, a vast expanse of lush lawn, mountains for horizons, horses, cows, cowboys, tractors, creeks, grandmas, grandpas, uncles and bottle calves. Truly, a little boy and his mommy could ask for nothing more but the missing daddy, hard at work in Baltimore.

Of course I had every intention of writing extensively while here. But the hours have filled themselves. I am flying home tomorrow, brimming with thoughts about making a home, the country and the city, self-sufficiency and The Omnivore's Dilemma. Some of those thoughts may find their way here, once I am home and am no longer tempted by bonfires, gin and tonics, or sleepy afternoons on the porch. It will also help if we have internet access at home. Out of the last three weeks we have had about five days of access, and since our neighbor is kindly sharing there is not a whole lot we can do about it. So that's my excuse, and I find it a mighty handy one!

(Also, some lovely pictures of all the above can be seen here. My brother-yes, he takes a fine picture.)

A Summer Dinner

2009-06-07T10:53:00.005-04:00

You have to know that I really, really like a recipe when I have made it twice in two weeks, AND, both times were for company. Because I like this recipe, and because I like making lists even more, here is a list detailing the virtues of Jamie Oliver's Crispy Chicken and Sweet Tomatoes (I think of it as An Extravagance of Basil and Tomatoes).

1) It tastes good: the chicken melts off the bone while the tomatoes and basil (and chicken fat) form a lovely sauce, perfect for spooning over couscous and sopping up with bread.

2) It is beyond easy: it almost makes itself and then it cheerfully simmers in the oven for an hour and a half, or more, while you do the dishes and chop some zucchini.

3) It is relatively inexpensive: if I grew my own basil and tomatoes, which I hope to someday, it would be very inexpensive (and Trader Joe's has a great deal on all-natural chicken legs).

4) It is simple and nutritious: Rowan loved this dish, including the whole cloves of garlic that we fed him right along with the bites of silky chicken.

5) It is cheerful, colorful, and charming: if I knew how to take good pictures you could see that for yourself-instead, you will have to imagine a deep blue roaster full of bright green basil, red tomatoes, plump cloves of garlic and golden chicken. It's delightful.

So, here you go.

Crispy Chicken and Sweet Tomatoes
Adapted from Jamie's Dinners, by Jamie Oliver
(Note: I, like Jamie, am fond of general guidelines on recipes like this. You cannot really mess it up, believe me.)

About 4 lbs of chicken legs (or thighs)
A couple of pints of cherry tomatoes
A couple of sweet tomatoes
1 bunch of basil
1 jalapeno
1 whole head of garlic
Olive oil
Salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Place the chicken legs in a 9 x 13 casserole dish and season them, generously, with salt and pepper. Halve the cherry tomatoes and chunk the other tomatoes, then scatter them over the chicken. Chop the basil leaves coarsely and finely chop the stems: scatter these over the chicken as well. Mince the jalapeno and scatter. Finally, divide the head of garlic into cloves and throw the whole cloves into the mix (you do NOT have to peel them-you will have delightful cloves of roasted garlic to coax out of their skins and onto your bread). Push the ingredients around a bit until the chicken legs are near the top, drizzle with olive oil (again, generously), and put in the oven. In about an hour and a half, possibly two, the chicken will be golden and falling off the bone, the tomatoes will be saucy, and it will be ready to eat.

Now, you could serve this dish with anything (Jamie suggests mashed potatoes or pasta or beans). I, however, am extremely fond of couscous or quinoa, quickly prepared and tossed with sauteed zucchini and parmesan. I think that's all you need, except, if you are me, chewy bread and a glass of wine.

Lentils for Lunch (or Possibly for Dinner)

2009-05-25T14:31:00.007-04:00

Here is a recipe. Finally.

This recipe confronts the problem of lunch. Dinners are easy. There are a million things to have for dinner, but lunch is a different matter, especially if you want to eat an economical and healthy lunch. Usually, we eat leftovers or peanut butter sandwiches. Occasionally, however, there are no leftovers and no makings for sandwiches. On one such lean day I opened my cupboards and spied nothing but a jar of lentils. In a burst of hunger I cooked the lentils, sauteed some celery, carrots, and onion, and stirred it all together with a little extra dose of olive oil. Rowan and I ate it with great satisfaction thirty minutes later, and then continued to eat it for lunch for three consecutive days.

It is hard to be more economical than that. But if you happen to have some brown rice languishing in the fridge (I have really been looking forward to writing about food "languishing"), then you can transform the plain jane lentils into a really wonderful salad--one that I am not ashamed to serve even for dinner with some bread and a glass of wine. The second recipe is from a rice-cooker cookbook by Beth Henderson. She adapted the recipe from her favorite lunch at the Chez Panisse cafe.

A note on lentils:
When I first began cooking lentils, way back in the days of the McKenzie Study Center kitchen, I seemed to inevitably serve lentils in one of two unpleasant forms-overcooked, or undercooked. I have to say that few things can make a gigantic pot of watery, mushy lentils palatable, not even sausage. Or the appetite of a hungry college student. I have since discovered French Green (Puy) lentils. These changed my lentil life, and even though I have come to like other lentils, properly cooked, I truly adore these lentils. They are small and firm and rustic and flavorful. They are also pretty difficult to ruin. I have had the best luck finding them in the bulk section of grocery stores.

Rustic Lentils
Serves 4 (or makes a few good lunches)

1 cup of green lentils
2 or more cups of water (or chicken/vegetable stock)
1 teaspoon salt (less if using stock)
2 garlic cloves, peeled
1 bay leaf
A sprig of thyme or rosemary (optional)

Rinse lentils and pick through them. Place the lentils in a medium pot and add the water, salt, garlic and bay leaf. (If I am going to eat these in a simple form, I like to cook them in chicken stock for a little extra flavor.) Bring them to a boil and then reduce the heat, simmering the lentils until they are fully cooked and most of the water is nearly absorbed, about 15-20 minutes. Add more water while they are cooking if necessary. Remove from the heat and discard the garlic and the bay leaf.

Now you have a couple of choices. You can eat the lentils straight out of the pot, or you can add some briefly sauteed carrots, celery and onions and drizzle with olive oil. You can also use them in the following recipe.

Lentil and Brown Rice Salad
Adapted from The Ultimate Rice-Cooker Cookbook, by Beth Henderson
Serves 8

1 recipe cooked rustic green lentils
2 cups of room temperature cooked brown rice (she recommends Brown Jasmine and it is delicious)
3 green onions, chopped
1/2 cup celery, finely chopped
1/3 cup red onion, finely chopped
3 tablespoons chopped Italian parsley
3 tablespoons chopped raisins
3 tablespoons chopped walnuts
5 ounces of feta cheese

3/4 cup olive oil
1/3 cup red wine vinegar
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Make a quick vinaigrette by whisking together the olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Set aside.

Combine the lentils, rice, green onions, celery, red onion, parsley, raisins and walnuts in a big bowl. Toss with the vinaigrette, using enough to coat the salad lightly. Let stand at room temperature to develop the flavors for up to one hour, or cover and place in the fridge. Serve at room temperature, topped with the feta cheese and accompanied with bread and butter.

The Truth About Menu Plans: Part II

2009-05-16T10:59:00.007-04:00

Having just pulled eighteen rubbery-no, downright gummy- muffins out of the oven, I feel a temporarily reluctance to write about cooking and my own "blithe" kitchen. The only blithe thing about this kitchen right now is my son, cheerfully eating the rubbery muffins and hopefully getting some nutrition out of all the expensive ingredients I so innocently threw in the batter. Was it the sweet potato? The extra carrot? The simple fact that I was experimenting and knew better?

In any case, my recipe for these muffins will be a few trial runs down the road. And recognize that any jaded comments below are a symptom, as any cook knows, of a recent failure.

But this post is about my menu-plan of last week, and in particular, about how well the plan worked. Did we actually eat the meals? Will any of the dishes make a future appearance at our dinner table? Were the menus too complicated, expensive, or impractical? The verdict is now officially in.

A May Menu
(Inordinately Influenced by Jamie Oliver)

Picadillo
Brown Rice and Tortillas (actually, sourdough biscuits)
Carrots Boiled with Orange, Garlic and Herbs
We ate this meal. We liked it. But it was a bit more complicated than I like, what with juggling all the ingredients for the picadillo and the carrots.

Jacket Potatoes with Smoked Salmon and Sour Cream
Simple Salad
We ate this meal. We liked it very much.

Roasted Pork Tenderloin
Roasted Rosemary Potatoes
Simple Salad and Pain Ordinaire
This meal is the puzzler. What should have been glorious was not. I could not get the tenderloin to cook properly, the potatoes were disappointing (sorry Jamie), and I spoiled the salad with too much vinegar. It was an excellent lesson that the simplest dishes are often the hardest to cook well.

Grilled Zucchini, Onion, Pesto and Mozzarella Sandwiches
Easy, fast, and messy. Also, somewhat boring.

Orangette's Green Lentil Coconut Soup
Bread
This dinner did not even make past the grocery shopping trip. Instead, we ate, as predicted, Annie's mac-n-cheese, peas, and a hoppy IPA. Delicious.

So there you have it. I did, in fact, learn a few things from this little exercise.

The first is that it would serve me well to take notes. I hate to take notes. But too many instances of forgetting what went wrong or what went well are making me reconsider my laziness. (The muffins are an unfortunate reminder). On a related note, I also realized that I should actually try to perfect some recipes and master some basics, rather than trying four new recipes a week. And the final lesson learned? That menu plans do indeed work for me. So I am going to keep making them, week after week, mistake after mistake, permutations notwithstanding.

The Truth About Menu Plans

2009-05-11T14:04:00.006-04:00

Here is the truth about menu plans. Each one starts out as a thing of beauty-delicious words on a fresh page, a neatly categorized grocery list beside it. I gaze fondly at each day's menu, picturing the pristine meal as it will appear on our glorified table. Then the messiness begins.

The first few blows come at the grocery store, when I realize that the feta is way too expensive for this week's budget, the cilantro looks like it has been sitting there for months, and that Super Fresh does not carry French green lentils, OR regular coconut milk, OR my favorite green curry paste. Suddenly my list and menu begin to carry the signs of re-evaluation: meals put in parentheses, ingredients circled with question marks. Smudges of dismay mar the clean page, right along with the drips of sample coffee.

Home, and armed with at least a partially stocked kitchen, the parade of meals begins for the week. Inevitably, there are changes to the perfect plan. I'm too tired to tackle the cutlets. The broccoli must be used immediately. We ate all the bread instead of saving some for bread crumbs. I shift, rearrange, and make-do. Some of the meals are successes, some are most definitely not. By the end of the week my menu plan is much more real. Much more useful, in fact.

So I thought it might be interesting (primarily to myself) to share a before-and-after menu. I usually plan only five or six dinners per week, since leftovers, eating out, or fried egg sandwiches cover the rest.

Here is the pristine menu, pre-shopping.

A May Menu
(Inordinately Influenced by Jamie Oliver)

Picadillo
Brown Rice and Tortillas
Carrots Boiled with Orange, Garlic and Herbs

Jacket Potatoes with Smoked Salmon and Sour Cream
Simple Salad

Roasted Pork Tenderloin
Roasted Rosemary Potatoes
Simple Salad and Pain Ordinaire

Grilled Zucchini, Onion, Pesto and Mozzarella Sandwiches

Green Lentil Coconut Soup
Bread

Notes, already:
The lentil soup was eliminated after a frustrated search for the proper lentils and curry paste. We'll probably just have macaroni and cheese, probably not homemade. It's already begun.

A Confession

2009-05-04T10:39:00.000-04:00

I have to admit something before I continue this blog about food and family.

My nutritional standards are a little less-than-scientific. In fact, I have come to realize that they are based, quite arbitrarily, on my own personal likes and dislikes. And, even more arbitrarily, these likes and dislikes are often based on vague, romanticized and connotation-laden ideas that I have nurtured quite unconsciously heretofore.

Let me explain. I believe in baking with sourdough. Not for the amazing phytate-destroying benefits that sourdough provides, but because it makes me think of San Francisco, my childhood, and long-ago cowboy cooks making biscuits on the sagebrush plains. And there are other considerations. Would I like sourdough as much if I did not have a beautiful blue bowl (thanks Mom!) to store my starter in?

I doubt it. And that's the truth.

Furthermore, I still love baking with yeast. And find myself unwilling to stop. So my disclaimer is this. I want to place nutrition near the top of my cooking priorities-I have a young son and our family's good health to maintain. But I confess that nutrition is sometimes trumped in my kitchen by nostalgia, aesthetics, and occasionally pure stubbornness. Bear this in mind when I ramble on about healthy cooking, and please, I ask you, forgive my nutritional faux pas.

Kitchen Aesthetic

2009-05-01T10:46:00.000-04:00

My mom's kitchen was the place where everyone wanted to be. Even when a washing machine and dryer sat right across from the old gas stove and a company meal meant canned black olives in the spaghetti, her kitchen was a charmed place. There might be homemade bread. There might be home-canned peaches. There might even be lemon pie. You were guaranteed two things about the meal on the old green table: it would be good, and it would be plentiful.

Mom came by this naturally. Dad still recounts with a certain awe the first time he saw Grandma Gladys spread out a gigantic batch of warm cinnamon rolls on the kitchen table and tell everyone to eat up. I still consider with a similar awe how many people--family, friend and stranger--that both Grandma and Mom fed on a very limited budget. And how very well everyone ate.

Now I have my own kitchen and my own small family of three. Bombarded by waves of adamant and often hyperbolic information about food and nutrition, I have to keep my bearings by remembering a few simple things about a good kitchen, listed below in order of importance.

1) The food must taste good.

2) There must be plenty for everyone.

3) If it is made from simple, real food it will probably be good for you.

4) Gratitude is essential.

With those principles in mind I am stumbling my way to a good kitchen, sorting through the labyrinths of organic vs.local, supermarket vs. farmer's market, raw vs. processed and homemade vs. store-bought. I'm trying to keep (or perhaps obtain?) a sense of humor and some common sense. I'm hoping, simply, to have a kitchen where people like to eat.

That said, this blog is dedicated to Mom and Grandma Gladys.
Their kitchens are still the places where everyone wants to be.