Wrapping Up, and Up Next

I feel like I shorted The Family Meal a tad in this past week, with Charlie being sick and us going up to San Antonio for the long weekend, but I'm not too heartbroken about it, because most of the remaining recipes that really catch my eye all include cuts of meat, types of fish, and quality of cured meat and sausage that I don't have ready access to. In the intro to the book, Adria says that he made sure that all of the ingredients were available to a home cook in the US, but I'm guessing he didn't send anyone to scout out the offerings here in Corpus Christi. And, after a month, it still makes me laugh that he thinks a home cook has a foamer.

This is the only book I've cooked from so far that didn't score anything lower than a "Just okay," so I think that's pretty remarkable. Most of the dishes were easy to prepare, and all the ones that I was able to make used just a few ingredients, to maximum effect.

Stand-outs, and those I'll make time and again, are the Roasted Chicken, Cauliflower with Bechamel, Pasta Bolognese (I'm drooling just thinking about it), and the Mexican Chicken.

If you have access to a phenomenal butcher who carries less-popular cuts of meat and an international market that sells spices I've never heard of, this book is a must-have. There are lots of yet-unmade dishes that I would run out and make tomorrow if I could. Unfortunately, I feel like most of the recipes I was able to make weren't particularly unique. Baked apples are good, roast chicken is one of my favorite meals in the world, but if you already have solid recipes for those types of things, you won't miss this book.

For me, this book is a keeper, but it's not one that I would push people to run out and buy before giving it a solid look. Not being able to get my hands on ingredients makes me sad.  Maybe I'll have better luck when I move to Italy next year. God, I love saying that. HA!

There are a few more recipes that I planned on, which got derailed by Charlie being sick all last week, so here's my plan.

I'm going to start on my next book: Perfect Vegetables, once again from the Cook's Illustrated folks. I know I haven't had amazing luck with their recipes so far, but I have high hopes for this one. I say that every time, don't I? But still, I'm not very creative when it comes to veg. If it's not part of a complete meal, I tend to fall back on grilled asparagus or broccoli or spinach with oil and garlic. Charlie will nibble some broccoli, but other than that, I can't get him to eat any of the normal vegetables that kids will accept--carrots, sweet potatoes, any version of white potato (except for french fries, of course.) Long story short, this book will be good for all of us. My diet could use more vegetables. Plus, this one should be easy to keep up with through the holidays.

Since these are mostly side dishes, it gives me the opportunity to cook a few more from The Family Meal and to catch up on some Dorie recipes while I'm at it. Win-win!

The Family Meal: Tagliatelle Carbonara, and a Sweet Potato

Bonzo is sick again--this time with a stomach virus--which is throwing a major kink in my nanowrimo plan. Grrr.

Regardless, I've cooked two quickies from The Family Meal.

For lunch yesterday, I made Sweet Potato with Honey and Cream (pg 304). This is billed as a dessert in the book. This would never satisfy a dessert craving. I thought putting honey and a dab of whipped cream on a sweet potato sounded like a tasty idea, but in the end, it's still just a sweet potato. Nothing special here. My expensive, flavor-packed local honey disappeared into the potato, and the whipped cream melted quickly and didn't contribute much flavor.

Conclusion: Just okay.

If I had payed closer attention to what was actually going on in Tagliatelle Carbonara (pg 290), I may have chickened out. I don't even want to know the calorie count in this thing. Four ounces is a lot of bacon. Brown that, and without draining it, add a whole cup of heavy cream, and simmer for 20 minutes. Mix it with pasta, and at the last second before serving, toss in some egg yolks that have been whisked with a splash of more heavy cream. Top with parmesan. Oh nelly. I added spinach to the pasta, because that makes it healthy. HA!

Don't look so sweet and innocent. I know what you're really made of.

That said, this pasta was fricken delicious. Heavy, but delicious.

Matt, after finishing his own bowl: (Moan). So...full.
Me, still eating: I don't think I'm gonna make it.
Matt: You can't finish it?
Me: (Groan.)
Matt: Don't worry. I'll give it a good home.
Me: You just said you were full.
Matt: So?
Me: You don't have to eat it.
Matt: Having to and wanting to are two different things.

In the end, he decided against finishing mine, but not for any reason relating to his comfort. He's running the San Antonio Marathon this weekend (boggles my mind), and is terrified of catching Charlie's stomach virus. I feel fine, but he figured he wouldn't take any chances, just in case the little bugger's germs are lurking in me, waiting to strike.

Conclusion: Loved it, but I doubt I'll ever make it again. It's a heart attack in a bowl.

Wish me luck that Charlie feels better soon and I can get back on track with my writing. It's hard to do when you're brain dead.

A Few from The Family Meal

I've made a few dishes from The Family Meal over the past few days. I wish I'd made more, but grouper and swiss chard from the farmers market looked too good to pass up over the weekend. They derailed the things I'd planned to cook from this book. Tell me, is there a more beautiful vegetable than swiss chard? I can't resist their rainbow stems. I don't even care what it tastes like. I must buy them. The farmer said that the stems can be sliced up and used like celery. Anybody ever try that? I've always ripped the leaves off and thrown the pretty stems away, because I didn't know how to use them. I digress...

First up: Roasted Chicken (pg 282). Technically, this was supposed to be "Roasted Chicken with Potato Straws," which sounded mighty impressive, until I read through the recipe and saw that it calls for a bag of store-bought, chip-aisle potato straws to be dumped alongside the chicken. Puh-lease. Potato straws: omitted.

Despite that irritation, this was a wonderful roast chicken recipe. The skin is rubbed with salt, oil, lemon zest, and a powder you're supposed to process of rosemary, bay, thyme, and peppercorns. It wasn't a big enough amount for my food processor to do the job, so I just chopped up those herbs and rubbed them on. For additional flavor (or maybe just for the aroma. I'm not sure. Either way, it's good), shove sliced lemon and whole cloves of garlic into the bird's cavity. One thing that made this recipe different than how I normally roast a chicken was that you roast it face down for 25 minutes, then flip it and finish it off breast-up. The meat was tender and moist, and I thank the flip for that. The pan sauce turned out a lot greasier than I think it was meant to, but it tasted good. I need one of those gravy separator gizmos.

Conclusion: Loved it. Nothing better than a good roast chicken. 

Instead of the lame potato sticks, I made Cauliflower with Bechamel (pg 260). I burned my roux on the first try, but it was easy enough to start over. I may have overcooked my sauce. It was thick, like a paste. In the book's picture, it pours. This didn't pour. Tasted good, though. I dolloped it onto the cauliflower, sprinkled it with parmesan, and broiled it until the top browned a bit. The hint of nutmeg in the sauce was nice with the salty parmesan cheese sprinkled on top. I was sure Charlie would like this, but he refused to try it. Maybe next time.

Conclusion: Liked it. I never make cauliflower, because it doesn't taste like anything (and anyone who says it's a good replacement for mashed potatoes is delusional). With this sauce, it's earned a spot in my regimen.

Lastly, I made Baked Apples (pg 106) one night, for an easy, hands-off dessert. Butter, sherry, honey, and cinnamon go into/on the cored apple, then it bakes for an hour.

 Dessert doesn't get much easier than that. With a barely-sweet whipped cream, drizzled with the pan juices, this was a perfect dessert. It was like insta-pie, in which you never miss the crust. This is one apple I could eat every day, and if I did, I wouldn't feel too terrible about it. Omit the cream, and I wouldn't feel bad about it at all. Why would you do that, though?

Conclusion: Loved it.

The Family Meal: Clams with Paprika

I've met my writing goals for the past two days (go me!), so I felt free to write a quick post. Lunch today was Clams with Paprika (pg 330 of The Family Meal). Technically, this is a recipe for mussels, but I bought clams for dinner last night, not realizing that one of the component sauces of the dish would take over an hour to make. By the time I noticed that glitch, it was way too late to start cooking, so we ate leftover quiche. We have dinner plans tonight, so I threw this quick dish together for lunch.

This was super easy. Cook garlic in oil, add paprika, flour, water, and parsley, then throw the clams in for a few minutes, until they open. Unfortunately, I browned my garlic, which made the broth bitter. Even though I could taste the mistake, I still liked it, and could tell how good it would be if I hadn't messed it up.

I like pretty food.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Speaking of messes, I also baked a breakfast cake from Baking this morning, because Charlie is getting pretty sick of scrambled eggs, waffles, and french toast. Apple Nut Muffin Cake (pg 37) came together easily. It's a standard case of mixing dry ingredients in one bowl, wet in another, then mixing them together. There's lots of good stuff in this cake--an apple, raisins, oats, apple juice, milk, and normally, nuts. I omitted them, because hard things distract Charlie from eating. He spends too much time picking them out and studying them.

I need to rename this blog "Distracted in the Kitchen," or something, because I've been causing problem after problem these days. This time, I buttered my pan, but did not flour it, so the entire bottom of my cake ripped off. Oh well, still good.

Nurts. Maybe if I flip it over...

The clincher for me that sets this cake apart from other apple muffins I've tried, is that almond extract is used in addition to vanilla extract and cinnamon. I seem to like anything almond-flavored. It works really well with the earthy, oaty, apple flavors here. I've sliced the cake into individual servings and frozen them, to deprive my greedy mouth.

A-ha! No one will ever know!

Conclusion: Loved it. This a moist cake with a crunchy crust. I've never had such a crunchy crust on a breakfast cake before. Charlie-Approved.

Risotto, or not risotto?

Neither Catalan-Style Turkey (pg 134 of The Family Meal) nor Saffron Risotto (pg 132)  met my expectations.

I planned to have spinach, but it went horribly wrong when I decided to keep it warm in the oven. Don't judge my veggie-less-ness.

Raisins and prunes are soaked in sherry all day. Technically, they're meant to be soaked in a Catalan wine called vino rancio, but it says sherry will work as a replacement. All this sweetness is the primary flavor of this dish, and it's primary problem, in my opinion. The sweetness was one-dimensional and cloying. I tend to like fruit in my savory dishes, but this one had no savory.

Conclusion: Just okay.

We have a canister of beautiful saffron that Matt brought back from Bahrain, so Saffron Risotto was an obvious choice. My understanding of risotto preparation is that you stir for the majority of the cooking time, and you slowly, slowly add bits of fluid until you have a wonderful, creamy bowl of rice. In this version, you add a ladle of broth once, and once that's absorbed, add the rest of the stock in one shot, stirring frequently. The creaminess comes from parmesan cheese, not from softly nurturing the rice. I believe in the magic of risotto. All due respect, Mr. Adria, but this recipe did not respect that magic.

Conclusion: Just okay. This sat heavy in my stomach.

Cod, Schmod.

Cod may the most flavorless food in the world. I should know by now not to bother with it, as I'm never happy with how it turns out. I'm going to learn my lesson this time. Really.

Cod and Green Pepper Sandwich (pg 292 of The Family Meal) lured me in because it looked so quick and easy.

First, you fry "long, sweet green peppers" in oil until the skins brown. At the supermarket, my choice was between bell peppers and an assortment of hot peppers. I went with the bell. Turns out that, due to their roundness, bell peppers are exceedingly difficult to keep flat in hot, spitting oil. I'm a scaredy-cat when it comes to spitting oil, so Matt cut up the peppers and tended to them while I prepped the fish. The fish is salted, floured, and dipped in egg, then right in the oil.

The sandwich is simply the peppers, fish, and mayo. Boring.

Conclusion: Just okay. I won't be making this again.

Happy Potato Dance

My love for potatoes is long-standing and deep-rooted. I've never met a potato I didn't like. Powdered instant mashed potatoes don't count. Those are gross.

We invited a friend for dinner for her birthday on Saturday. Matt cooked lamb chops, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to catch up on the Potato Gratin recipe (pg 360 from Around My French Table) that French Fridays with Dorie cooked last winter. I'm really glad that I recently purchased a mandoline, because there is no chance I'd have sliced potatoes consistently and thin. The mandoline earned its keep this weekend.

Everyone loved this gratin. Garlic-steeped in heavy cream and a gruyere topping gave it a rich, subtle flavor that perfectly accompanied the lamb. I forgot to take a picture until after dinner was over. This is all that was left of the entire pie plate of potatoes...

Matt asked if we could have this for dinner every night. We'd all die of a heart attack if I did that, but this will definitely become a go-to potato treat.

Conclusion: Loved it. Wow--I just realized that this is the 70th recipe I've cooked from AMFT. That's a lot.

Delicious as dinner was on Saturday, I feel like I'm still digesting it. I need veg, so I decided to make the Caesar Salad (pg 72) from The Family Meal. I'd reserved a bit of anchovy from the pissaladiere with the dressing in mind. I probably could have used more of it. Matt commented that the dressing was good, and "tasted like caesar salad," but that he thought it needed more anchovy. I was afraid to be too heavy-handed, after my pissaladiere's results.

One problem I'm having with this book is that I haven't found a good way to blend the things that need blending. I'm cooking the recipes according to the "for 2" guidelines, and the outcome is spot-on with a reasonable portion size, but they use such a small quantity of ingredients that the blades on my immersion blender (which is what the book instructs you to use) don't reach what needs to be blended. My food processor is way too big. Because of this, I had a really hard time making this dressing. There's no way to "very gradually pour in the sunflower oil while blending" when the blender won't reach the oil. I don't think this came out as well as it could have. It never reached the mayonnaise consistency that I was supposed to be looking for, but it was still good.

Yep. That's a bowl of lettuce.

Conclusion: Liked it. It's a salad. Nothing special.

I needed to use up some leeks that I had, so I made Vichyssoise (pg 92) to go with our salad. Very tasty, but I think something went wrong. The book's photos show that the soup should be loose. By the time it sat in the fridge for a few hours, it had solidified into mashed potatoes. Delicious mashed potatoes, but I don't think that's what I was going for. Matt asked why anyone would want cold soup, and after tasting it both hot and cold, I had to agree, so I heated it up and thinned it out with some water. It still was thick, though. Matt said that if I thickened it with another potato instead of thinning it with water, they would have been the best mashed potatoes ever. Good enough for me, soup or not.

Adria serves it with a soft-boiled egg, but I opted out of that. If we were just having soup, I would have tried the egg. It seemed like too much for dinner, when combined with the salad. 

Conclusion: Liked it. Easy and tasty. It looks nothing like the pics in the book, though.

Holy Mole

One time, in college, I was feeling down in the dumps. A good friend instructed me to come over for dinner. He would make me mole. Did I know what mole was? Definitely not. Even after dinner was over, I wasn't really sure what I'd eaten. He defined it as a chocolate sauce. That may be true, but it's very misleading, in terms of establishing expectations. Chicken-in-chocolate-sauce sounds gross, but it was, of course, delicious, and unlike anything else I'd ever had. To this day, I still don't really know how to describe it. Savory, certainly. Spicy. Bitter. Sort of creamy. I don't remember why I was blue, but I do remember being very happy by the end of the meal. I don't know if mole is one of Eric's comfort foods, but since that day, it's become one of mine. Unfortunately, it's one that I don't know how to make myself, and it honestly never occurred to me to try, until I saw Mexican-style Chicken with Rice (pg 242-243 of The Family Meal)

Part of me feels kind of disingenuous calling this a recipe. It uses store-bought mole. That's kind of huge, in terms of originality, no? The primary difference between the instructions in the book and on the bottle of mole paste is that the book says to poach chicken and cilantro in water before adding the mole sauce and baking. Toasted sesame seeds are supposed to be sprinkled at the end, but I totally flaked on that. I have sesame seeds. I forgot all about them until right now. Oh well.

I could be wrong, but I believe that homemade mole is one of those "stir a pot for a full day" type of sauces, so I'll forgive the shortcut, because I probably wouldn't have bothered if I needed to hunt down difficult ingredients and cook all day. Whatever the source of the mole, the finished product was just how I remember, and I couldn't be happier, because it was really easy. Next time, I'd remove the skin before adding the sauce, though. Chicken skin is only good when it's crispy, and this was not.

Conclusion: Loved it. It prompted Matt to proclaim his approval of this book.

I'm more excited about one of the techniques of Mexican Rice (pg 244) than I am about the finished product. A puree of onion and cilantro is fried in oil with the rice for a minute before adding the broth. This gave the rice a sweet and herbal base flavor that was lovely. I felt like it needed more flavor, though. Next time, I'll include garlic and salt. Looking at the recipe now, I realize I forgot the penultimate step of adding butter to make the rice creamy. What is wrong with me tonight? Tasted good anyway.

Conclusion: Liked it.

I have sweets on the brain, and Matt has guilted me away from the Halloween candy with comments about how I'm stealing candy from children (When's the last time any of those kids ever gave ME any candy, huh??), I baked Santiago Cake (pg 76 of The Family Meal). This flourless cake is primarily made of ground almonds, eggs, and sugar. I admit I added more than a pinch of cinnamon, and zested an entire lemon, instead of half. I hate wasting zest.

This is the result of my efforts to pry the cake from the pan.

The cake is thin and crumbly, and appears to be soldered to my pan. The recipe says to put parchment paper in the bottom of the pan. I put my silpada mat down, because usually recipes says to use one or the other. I guess they're not interchangeable. This cake is STUCK to that mat. I tried to remove the cake, but as it broke up into smaller and smaller crumbs, I decided to just leave it in the pan and eat it by the spoonful. Charlie decided to eat it by the fistful...

I turned my back for two seconds.

Conclusion: Liked it, and definitely Charlie-Approved. This makes me happy, since nuts are so good for his little brain.

The Family Meal: Pasta Bolognese

My only complaint about the Pasta Bolognese (pg 82-83) is that it took a lot longer to make than I expected. I am not a fast chopper, and 1.5-2 cups each of celery, carrots, and onions took a lifetime.

Ground beef and sausage browns in a heap of butter (like, A LOT of butter). The veg cooks in oil for a bit, until good and soft. The two are mixed together with canned tomatoes, tomato paste, and a pinch of sugar. Then, the pot simmers away for about two hours.

I'm guessing that I've never had an authentic bolognese sauce. I thought it was a heavy red sauce with some meat in it, but this was more meat than sauce. I have no clue how it would stack up against a perfect bolognese, but I do know it was delicious. It would be even better if I could get my hands on a decent Italian sausage. I went to two butchers, and couldn't find any sausage. I had to buy the supermarket brand. Yuck. I know fennel seed is supposed to be in Italian sausage, and it was visibly missing from this generic stuff, so I added some. I think it was a good call.

This sauce took a long time to make, but it was worth it. Charlie ate a whole plate! Meat, vegetables, everything. He didn't spit any of it back out. Scoooore!

Conclusion: Liked it, and it's Charlie Approved. It was very rich. I couldn't finish the portion I served myself. It freezes for six months, so we have plenty to store.

The Family Meal: Pork Loin with Roasted Peppers and Polenta and Parmesan Gratin

My first dinner from The Family Meal was quick and easy, and the flavors were very pure and unmuddied (ah, what a refreshing change!). There were a few steps that I thought were odd in the preparation of the Pork Loin with Roasted Peppers (pg 124-125).

The peppers roast easily enough with a bit of oil for 40 minutes. Once skinned and sliced, the peppers and their juices are moved to a pan and simmer away for a few minutes. Maybe that concentrates their flavor? No salt, no pepper, nothing. Perfect.

The pork loin cutlets (thin cut) are similarly straightforward, cooked briefly in olive oil, then sprinkled with salt and pepper after they're done. A parsley garlic oil is drizzled on top. A strange step with the oil was that I had to blanch garlic in boiling water, then ice water, three times. Maybe it takes the sting out of the garlic?

Conclusion: Liked it. Especially the peppers. Mmmm.

My polenta looks like scrambled eggs.

I've never had polenta before. Now that I've tried Polenta & Parmesan Gratin (pg 112-113), there's no turning back. I'm in love. This recipe mixes parmesan cheese into the polenta, and then more parmesan is sprinkled on top, and the whole shebang is broiled until brown. This was creamy, nutty (from the browned cheese), and rich.

Conclusion: Love it. Plus, it's Charlie-approved. This was so easy to make, with such great reward, that I know I'll make it over and over again.

We're off to a good start.

Also, I made Raisin Swirl Bread from Baking. I love cinnamon raisin bread, and have been thinking for a while that homemade, it's probably crazy-delicious. I was right. It's a wonderful thing to have control over the cinnamon mixture and the raisins. As far as I'm concerned, a good cinnamon raisin bread can't have too much of either of those things. Mmm. The dough has a nice hint of orange zest. I know I've said I don't like orange flavored baked goods, but this is so slightly orangey that it hardly counts. Dorie suggests an optional pinch of nutmeg. I could have used a bigger pinch. 

Conclusion: Liked it. I'm looking forward to making french toast out of it. This is also Charlie-approved. Hooray!

Wrapping Up 365: No Repeats, and Up Next

My days of mediocre meals are over. Of the dishes from 365: No Repeats that I made, the only stand-outs were Everything-Crusted Chicken Rolls Stuffed with Scallion Cream Cheese and Turkey Cutlet Parmigiano with Warm, Fresh Grape Tomato Topping, Pesto, and Mozzarella. I've been trying to pick meals that sound interesting and flavorful (and that don't include mushrooms, because Matt hates them. There are a shocking number of mushroom-related recipes in this book), and still, most of what I made is unmemorable and easily shrugged off.

Piling layers of food on top of each other does not make the meal taste better, nor does using every ingredient you can grab in thirty minutes.

I'm feeling some sentimental attachment to this book. I think because it's been part of my kitchen's landscape for ten years. Still, the fact that I'm not interested in making any other recipes is a louder argument for tossing it than sentimentality is an argument for keeping it. (Technically, I wanted to make some Aussie Meat Pies, but I'll be damned if I can find the recipe again. My memory knows it's in there, but I can't find it in the index or in scanning the book. Too much work.)

 Sorry, Rachael, but I'm going to have to toss this.

Moving on...

To calm my inner-Bourdain, my next book will be the newly released The Family Meal: Home Cooking with Ferran Adria. This is a book of recipes that the chefs at elBulli restaurant in Spain (largely regarded as one of the world's great restaurants) would prepare for the staff (aka, family) meal before their shift. It makes me very sad that elBulli recently shut down. Interwoven into my daydreams of moving to Europe was the idea that I'd find a way to have a meal at elBulli while I was there. Oh well.

The Family Meal is a gorgeous book. Every recipe has step-by-step photos. Each recipe provides ingredient quantities to make enough for 2, 6, 20, or 75 people. While I doubt I'll ever cook for 75, I very much appreciate that it's broken down for two people. These are meant to be recipes that can be easily made at home. It makes me giggle that, to Adria, "home recipes" include foams. As I do not have a foamer, I will not be making those. ha! Some of the recipes include meat parts (lamb neck? Really?) or fish that I don't have easy access to. Still, most of the dishes do look accessible and fairly uncomplicated.

I'm excited about this one.

Oh, and I've decided that Baking, by Dorie Greenspan, is officially one of my long-term projects.