Wrapping Up and Up Next

This month flew by quite pleasantly, cooking-wise. There were some duds, but I'm happy with most of the recipes I've tried from Ellie Krieger's The Food You Crave. I wouldn't call it health food, but healthier food. She uses whole grains and lots of vegetables and puts the more caloric ingredients--cheese, nuts, etc--up front so that it's what your eye sees first. I've said before that this is one of my most-used cookbooks, and that statement stands. My old favorites (Macaroni with Four Cheeses, Roasted Pork Loin, Balsamic Chicken with Baby Spinach and Couscous) still hold up, and I've found some tasty new recipes to add into my rotation. I feel sufficiently detoxed from the holidays, and I think that the general greaselessness of Ellie's recipes helped.

I'm a little concerned that by not revisiting many of my perennial favorites, I may have provided a skewed impression of this cookbook's offerings. Over the years, I've tested many of the recipes that most enticed me, and haven't mentioned them here: Fish Tacos with Chipotle Cream? Amazing. Baked Shrimp with Tomatoes and Feta? So good, and easy. Lemon Chicken Soup with Orzo? Cozy perfection.

I strongly recommend this book. I feel good cooking from it because the food is healthy, but don't feel deprived, like I'm cooking diet food. Some of the meals err on the side of bland, but it's nothing that can't be fixed with a tweaking of the spices.

For me, it's a keeper.

I've also decided to call it quits on David Lebovitz's Ready for Dessert, primarily because I need to stop thinking about dessert so much. With this book on my mind, it's very difficult not to bake constantly, because everything looks delicious. The recipes are pretty flawless. I loved 11, I liked 14, and only 3 were just okay. I hated 1. Those are amazing results. I want to try plenty of more recipes in this book, but I'm too preoccupied with their deliciousness and need to shelve it. There's an entire ice cream section that I couldn't test out, because I don't own an ice cream machine. They look gooood, though.

If you like to bake, you need this book. If you know someone who likes to bake, you need to buy them this book. Without doubt, a keeper.

So, moving on.

This month, I'll focus on Nigella Lawson's How to Eat.

I love Nigella's easy attitude and her philosophy that cooking and good eating shouldn't be stressful. This particular book--her first--is a very annoying format. There's no organization, and huge chunks of text. I like a bit of personality in my cookbooks, but I don't want to scour chunks of text to find the recipe I want. Real recipes are titled in pink, but there are other recipes within pages of chatty essays that are identified by gray headings out in the margin. This book is hard on my eyes. It doesn't make me want to cook.

This book features a lot of stews and roasts. Cold weather food, in other words. I kept putting this book off because it's so hot here, but I've decided to explore it now, because I'm pretty sure this is as cold as it's going to get this winter. It's going to be 78 degrees tomorrow. Oy.

Also, I'm replacing Ready for Dessert in my long term projects with Jennifer Reese's Make the Bread, Buy the Butter: What You Should and Shouldn't Cook From Scratch.

Jennifer writes the wonderful blog The Tipsy Baker. I love her, and I mentally refer to her as "Tipsy." I'll try to refrain from calling her that here. In her book, she set out to determine what foods are worth making instead of buying, in terms of cost and difficulty. I've made it a long term project, because most of the recipes are for components, rather than whole meals. So, it's food like breads and cheeses and cured meats (I'm not sure I'm that brave. We'll see.), etc. There are some full recipes, but not many. Her book is funny, with essays about her adventures trying to raise chickens and goats and ducks. As opposed to Nigella's book, I don't mind the essays here, because everything is clearly sectioned out and labeled.

I'm excited to start. Yahoo!

Another Fave

Today wraps up my month with The Food You Crave, and it felt wrong not to cook and mention one of my long-standing favorite dishes out of it: Macaroni and Four Cheeses (pg 168). The four cheeses in question are cheddar, Monterey Jack (which I usually replace with more cheddar), ricotta, and parmesan. The healthy thing I like about this mac and cheese is that it includes frozen pureed butternut squash that you can buy at the supermarket. This is the dish my cousin cooked once when she had me over for dinner, which was so good that it prompted me to go home and order the book for myself.

 If you're looking for a really creamy mac and cheese, this may not be the dish for you. I think it's plenty tasty and it definitely satisfies any mac and cheese craving that I have, but it is a bit dry and a bit gritty from the ricotta. The first time I served this, Matt didn't know there was squash in it. He's a pretty avid fan of this meal. Historically, I've had no trouble getting Charlie to eat it. This time around, he shoveled in a few bites, and then suddenly looked disgusted, spit his mouthful out, and wouldn't eat any more. Don't know what that was about.

"If you loved me you'd give me cheese. Please? Pretty please?" I couldn't resist that face. She got the cheese.

Conclusion: Love it. Especially the parmesan breadcrumb bits on top. Mmmm.

About two weeks ago, I made a mug of Vanilla Hot Cocoa (pg 305) and promptly forgot all about it. It was boring. If I'm going to bother with hot chocolate, I want it to be really chocolatey, and this was not.

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

Friday was one of those days where I just needed a cookie. Really, any cookie would have done just fine, but when I flipped through Dorie Greenspan's Baking, the title Chunky Peanut Butter and Oatmeal Chocolate Chipsters (pg 73) sprang from the page. Resistance was futile.

I was surprised at how little peanut butter flavor came through. I was a little shy on my cup, but I don't think it was enough to make the difference. If I'm going to spend the calories on peanut butter, I want it to taste like peanut butter. Cinnamon was the dominant flavor. I love the three-cookies-in-one concept and the chewiness that held up, even a few days later, so next time I make them, I'll try adding more peanut butter.

I made an embarrassingly large dent in that plate, but I brought what was left to a friend's for lunch on Sunday. I left with a clean plate.

Conclusion: Liked it. Would like it more with more peanut butter or no peanut butter at all.

Old Faithful

Balsamic Chicken with Baby Spinach and Couscous (pg 205 of The Food You Crave) has been one of my fallback "crap, I don't have time for this" recipes for several years now. It's easy. So very, very easy. Especially for a three-part meal that does manage to come together as greater than its individual parts.

Make couscous: Zip! Pound chicken breasts, add salt and pepper, then cook them through in olive oil. Remove from pan. Zam! In the same pan, add more oil, garlic, then the spinach. Wilt. Remove from pan. Zoom! Throw crushed tomatoes, chicken broth, and balsamic vinegar in the same pan, and cook it down for a few minutes. Layer the components, pour some of the sauce on top. Kapow! Done. And all it took was one pot and one pan.

 Conclusion: Like it's flavor, love it's ease.

I asked for a mini muffin pan for Christmas, thinking that maybe Charlie would be more interested in muffin items if they were scaled down to size. To test this theory, and in hopes that I'd get some small amount of a vegetable into him, I baked Pumpkin Pie Muffins (pg 21) today.

May I just say, it pisses me off when a recipe--especially for something like a muffin, which could be made in any quantity--doesn't use a whole can of pumpkin. What exactly am I supposed to do with less than half a can of pumpkin? Scale the recipe up to use the whole thing, Ellie. Come on.

Mama Muffin gives her babies a goodbye hug. I told her I was sending them to live on a farm.

Wastefulness aside, these muffins are good. I could use more spice (and more pumpkin. Ahem), but they were good. Not as good as my friend Hilary's mom's Pumpkin Bread, but it also has less butter and sugar.

Conclusion: Liked it, and I think they're Charlie Approved. He nibbled one throughout the afternoon, but he didn't spit it out. I guess that counts.

Things that Make Me Go "Mmmmm."

Ellie has found seafood redemption. After last night's crabcake bomb, I was a little hesitant to waste more expensive local seafood on her recipes, but I took my chances on Shrimp Scampi with Artichokes (pg 237 of The Food You Crave), because I'd already bought the ingredients.

The most time-consuming part of this recipe is shelling the shrimp. All you do is soften shallots and garlic in oil for a few minutes, then add the shrimp, white wine, lemon juice, frozen or canned artichoke hearts. Right at the end, add salt, pepper, and parsley.

Come to me, my lovely shrimp.

Conclusion: Loved it. This was great. Not okay, not good, but great. Easy and flavorful. Just about perfect. And, Charlie ate two shrimp. Woop woop!

My friend missed Charlie (they adore each other), so she invited us over for a lunch of tasty Persian food on Saturday so she could spend time with him. I had spare apples from that pie I didn't make over the holidays, so I made a recipe from David Lebovitz's Ready for Dessert that caught my eye the very first time I flipped through the book: Buckwheat Cake with Cider-Poached Apples (pg. 44).

Pulverized almonds are mixed in with the buckwheat flour, so the nuttiness really complements the cozy flavor of the buckwheat flour. On its own, the cake was good. With the poached apples, this dessert was three-thousand times more delicious. 3,000 is the result of a scientific calculation. My only small qualm is that Lebovitz says to spoon the apples and syrup over the cake. The problem is that the "syrup" is more juicy than it is syrupy, so it made the cake soggy. I prefer the apples and a slight drizzle of juice on the side.

Conclusion: Loved it. Buckwheat + almonds + apples = hearty perfection. Plus, Charlie really seems to enjoy buckwheat. He ate a lot of this cake.

Wow, that's two recipes in one post that included the word "perfect." Good stuff.

Round 'Em Up

I haven't really fallen behind on blogging about Ellie, but I did cook a number of her recipes in a short period of time, this could get long. I'll try to contain it. Short isn't my strong suit.

First, Cherry Vanilla Oatmeal (pg 36 of The Food You Crave). Dried cherries are cooked in the oatmeal, and once it's off the heat, stir in some cherry jam and vanilla extract. I usually put vanilla in the water before I add the oats. I'll add it after from now on. It retained much more of its flavor.

 Conclusion: Loved it.  Charlie Approved. He ate his whole bowlful. 

Three recipes made it into last night's dinner. Stuffed Turkey Burgers (pg 218) turned out okay, but it needed a lot of help. The burgers were stuffed with roasted red pepper and mozzarella. Good start. However, the ground turkey goes unseasoned. I don't think so. I added a bit of Worcestershire Sauce and a bit of BBQ sauce. Matt thought BBQ sauce was not the best choice, and some Italian spices would've been better. Ah, well.

Conclusion: Just okay.

Remember those radishes I bought last week? Orange, Radish, and Mint Salad (pg 129) seemed like an obvious way to use a few. I have to say, these Red Rocket Radishes (hehehehe...still funny) defied my experience of radishes and are mild and pleasant. This salad was crispy and refreshing.

Conclusion: Loved it.

I'm holding off judgment on Zucchini Parmesan Crisps (pg 251). I need to make them again, without adding salt "to taste." Holy mother, these were salty. I didn't even think I'd added that much. I hate it when things you can't taste say to add salt to taste. I still think this is a promising concept, in which you dip sliced zucchini in olive oil, then in a bread crumb and parm mixture, then bake. On his first taste, Charlie smiled and went, "Mmmm." Then his whole face contorted as the salt hit him and he launched the crisp across the table. He tasted the next, and the cycle repeated itself. Reading you loud and clear, little dude. Too salty. We couldn't eat them, either. Must give it another go.

Matt bought a pound of beautiful lump crab meat at the farmer's market this weekend, and we made the mistake of using half of it on Ellie's Crab Cakes (pg 240). They just didn't taste right.

I want to turn back time and rescue that crab meat.

Conclusion: Just okay. Bummer.

If I Were a Magician, I'd Name Myself "Adobo the Great."

Confetti Chili (pg 187) earns its title "because it is flecked with multicolored vegetables" that "add excitement and texture." I think someone may be getting a little overzealous about the fun to be had by adding a carrot, a red pepper, and some corn to your chili.

That said, this was a perfectly respectable version of a healthy chili. It's been years since I've made a normal, not-packed-with-veg chili, so I'd be hard-pressed to say how it would compare.

Cumin, oregano, and coriander are the only spices added, and most of the flavor comes from one minced canned chipotle chili in adobo sauce. Those things are amazing, if you've never cooked with one. Nice and smoky, with a good kick. The flavor was good, but I was surprised that this recipe doesn't call for any chili powder. I think it could have used some. Or more salt. Something was missing.

Conclusion: Liked it, though next time, I'd play around with the spicing.

Tonight, We Finished the Leftovers

Praise the Refrigerator Gods! Matt lunched on our last bit of lasagne today, and for dinner we had a lovely combo of cauliflower gratin and stuffed cabbage. I fear it may be a stinky night. TMI? Sorry.

Because Green Pea Soup (pg 84) is mostly frozen peas in chicken broth, I was afraid that it would taste like the baby food puree I used to make for Charlie. Who'd have known that sauteed onion, tarragon, and a spoonful of Greek yogurt would make such a difference. This soup was remarkably tasty, especially considering that it took all of ten minutes to make.

 Conclusion: Liked it. This is a perfect soup if you're sick, because odds are you've got the ingredients in the house, and it takes no effort.

I forgot how much I love homemade granola and how much better it is than store-bought. Commercial brands always seem to coat my tongue in coconut oil, and I don't like how sweet they are. Gross. Nutty Granola (pg 38) is exactly right. No oil involved, and lightly sweetened with maple syrup and a dash of cinnamon. Crunchy, lots of nuts, just enough raisins.

Conclusion: Loved it, and I have a bucket-full now. With a bowl of yogurt and Ellie's recommended serving size, it kept me full for a good long time.

Going Out With a Bang...

...and not the good kind. More like the gruesome, I just got someone's brains in my mouth kind. Okay, that may be a bit extreme. The meal I made for dinner tonight was bad. Really bad.

Once again, my kitchen has exploded. This time, the results were not worth it. Definitely. Not. Worth. It. Oh, Ellie, no one is going to believe me that there are good recipes in your book. This one was especially foul, despite it's delicious title: Beef Tenderloin with Rosemary and Chocolate (pg 180). I used eye round instead of tenderloin, because tenderloin was too expensive, post-Santa. I'm glad I swapped meats, because I would have been furious if I had a tenderloin and cooked it to 140, which was her recommendation for medium-rare. I removed this at 115, and it was medium. For a roast beef, I can accept that. For a tenderloin, I would have flipped out.

I didn't defile the meat with sauce. You'll have to use your imagination.

I'm straying from the point. The meat is only seasoned with salt and pepper, so the interest of this dish is in the sauce. The horrible, horrible sauce. Standard broth vegetables are cooked for a few minutes, then wine, beef broth, and tomato paste are added. It boils for 40 minutes, then is strained, at which point you stir in rosemary and cocoa powder. It tasted like dirt. Literally.

Conclusion: Hated it, obviously. 

To accompany this travesty, I made something I'd had my eye on that I didn't get around to from Perfect Vegetables: Sauteed Tender Greens with Caramelized Onions and Dried Apricots (pg 141). I picked up irresistably beautiful swiss chard at the farmer's market today, and instantly thought of this dish. I also picked up these radishes at the market, because my sense of humor is that of a 12 year old boy, and I could not stop laughing when I saw this...

In case you can't read the sticker, it says "Red Rocket Radishes." Hee. Heehee.

 Anyone know what to do with radishes? Ellie has a few salads with them, which I probably would never try if not for this impulse purchase. I don't even like radishes. What was I thinking? HA!

As far as the swiss chard goes, all I'm going to say is that dried apricots, garlic onion, and anchovy paste are not flavors that mesh. Hated it.

Fortunately, we ended the night with my not-quite-on-Christmas-Plum-Pudding. This was not all that different from my Mom's fruit cake, which is not a complaint. I love my Mom's fruit cake. Fruit cake gets a bad rap. If it's made with real dried fruit, as opposed to that citron crap, and it's brandy-soaked and moist, it's awesome. I like that the pudding is served warm, with boozy hard sauce melting all over it, but otherwise, I'm not sure it's worth the difference in effort between baking a fruit cake vs. steaming a plum pudding for four hours, and then steaming it again for 1.5 hours before serving.

I may not make this again, but I'm glad I made it once, especially because I had no clue what a plum pudding really was until now. The problem now is that there is SO much left.

A little of this stuff goes a long way. If anyone wants to hop a flight to Corpus Christi to try some, I can guarantee you it'll still be here when you arrive.

The other night, with Dorie's cauliflower, I made Ellie's Roasted Pork Loin (pg 198 of The Food You Crave). Full confession: I've made this recipe many, many times before. Make paste out of garlic and salt, then mix in olive oil, sage, rosemary, thyme, and pepper, then rub into the meat and cook. Easy and delicious. 

Conclusion: Love it, time and again.

I hope you all had a wonderful New Years, and that your 2012 is full of adventurous cooking and satisfying eating.

Bits and Pieces

Last week, before Christmas madness hit, Mom's Turkey Meatloaf (pg 216 of The Food You Crave) called to me as a potential way to get Charlie to eat meat. You know, same old story I always have. This loaf uses ground turkey, and the meat is flavored with bell pepper, Worcestershire sauce, and ketchup. Much to my surprise, this loaf didn't dry out. Giada de Laurentiis has a turkey meatloaf that I love, but she adds a whole butt-load of olive oil to prevent it from drying. I thought the oil was essential, but I guess it's not. I'm guessing that the first step of Ellie's recipe, where oats are soaked in milk, holds the key to the moisture retention. I may try Giada's recipe with this trick and see how it comes out.

The meatloaf was decent, but Giada's tastes better. Matt kept saying it could use feta and sundried tomatoes, which are the awesomest bits of Giada's recipe.

Conclusion: This was okay, and Charlie ate a decent portion. It was a little bland, but that could be why Charlie liked it.

We have loads of leftovers in the house, so it'll be a few days before I cook an Ellie dinner. I'm going to attempt to turn the goose remains into something like a shepherd's pie tomorrow. It's the best we can think of to do with it. Wish me luck.

I also have a million pears in the house. My brother-in-law very kindly sent us two cases of pears from Harry and David for Christmas. They're delicious and juicy, and all 14 are ripe at the same time. We finished one box, and I'm scouring my books for ways to bake and then freeze pear desserts, because I'd hate to waste any of them.

Spiced Red Wine-Poached Pears (pg 293) was an obvious choice for dessert tonight. I don't know how pears are normally poached, but it seems it would be a lot easier to dump enough wine in the pot to submerge the pears, instead of attempting to turn them every five minutes. Pears--especially cooked pears--are fragile little buggers. Mine looked pretty jacked up by the end of it. My biggest problem was that I over-reduced the wine sauce. It just about turned into jelly. It seemed okay when I took it off the heat, but by the time I gave Charlie his bottle and put him to bed, it had turned solid. It's a shame, because the sauce was necessary. Without it, the pears didn't seem to have a whole lot of flavor.

Conclusion: Liked it. The flavor of the sauce was good, and the pears poached to a perfect consistency, I just bungled the execution. I'd make it again.

I love me a toasted nut, and Spiced Mixed Nuts (pg 61) are no exception. The spices in question here are curry powder, cayenne, rosemary, and salt, with a bit of maple syrup to bind it all together.

Conclusion: Liked it. Still love Lebovitz's mix best of all, but this gets props for using less butter and sugar.

Norman, Hellooooo

That's a reference to City Slickers, if you didn't get it. City Slickers is one of the finest movies of the past thirty years. I'm not embarrassed to admit that Matt and I have been known to watch it, bedecked in our cowboy hats. Okay, I'm a little embarrassed to admit that. Fortunately, Matt never reads this blog, so he won't know I told you. HA!  I made this reference because, unless I'm misunderstanding the role recipe titles have on reality, I'm pretty sure that the dinner I made qualifies me as a cowgirl.

Cowboy Steak with Coffee and Ancho Rub (pg 183) was fine, though surprisingly bland. With chili powder, ground espresso, brown sugar, dry mustard, coriander, salt and pepper rubbed into top sirloin (not a delicious cut of meat), I expected more flavor. I should have used better judgment and let the steaks sit with the rub for a few hours, even though the instructions don't indicate to wait. That may have helped matters. Oh well.

Conclusion: Just okay. Not bad, but unmemorable.

However, Matt and I both loaded up on Ranch Beans (pg 246). No two ways about it. These beans were mighty tasty. Sautee onion and green pepper until soft, add chili powder, pinto beans, a bit of broth, and cilantro, and cook until warmed through. Then you mash it all up a bit.

As he ate thirds, Matt correctly stated that they would be amazing in a breakfast taco (one of the few culinary masterpieces of Corpus Christi). I haven't stopped thinking about homemade breakfast tacos since eating these beans.

Conclusion: LOVED it.

A Mixed Bag

I have to get back on track to blog more regularly. These posts are unwieldy. 

Matt is the king of homemade pancakes. Before I met him, I didn't even know you could make pancakes from scratch. I can rock a Krusteaz box, but I usually leave the pancakes to him. Blueberry Buckwheat Pancakes (pg 20 of The Food You Crave) nabbed my attention, because I still have a whole bag of buckwheat sitting around from when FFwD did buckwheat blini, and because I feel better about feeding some good flours to Charlie instead of delicious Krusteaz. Believe me, I love my Krusteaz, but they aren't especially nutritious.

With syrup, these pancakes were good. Without, they were a little buckwheat-bitter. Ellie only adds 1 tb of honey to the batter, and that's not really enough to sweeten it to the point where you'd want to eat it without syrup. I say the batter could also use a hit of vanilla.

Conclusion: Liked it, and Charlie Approved. The recipe made a lot of pancakes, so I happily now have a freezer full of them, for easy breakfasts.

For a nostalgic snack, I made a Chocolate Egg Cream (pg 307). I shouldn't have. Yuck. My favorite diner meal is a BLT-without-the-lettuce, fries, and a vanilla egg cream. I've never seen them outside of New York, and when I asked for one once in a "New York Style" diner in Rhode Island, the waitress made me repeat it 14 times, and then said she didn't know what I was asking for. Sigh. Before I blame Ellie for how bad this was, I may have used the wrong fizzy. I couldn't find any seltzer at the store. Weird, right? Ellie explicity says not to use club soda, so I settled on bubbly mineral water. Is that different than seltzer? This proportion of mineral tasted really harsh and was not nearly sweet enough. Boooo!

Conclusion: Dislike. If mineral water and seltzer are different, I blame me. If they're the same, I blame Ellie.

Between the anchovy paste, the capers, and the olives in Pasta Puttanesca (pg 158), there were many layers of briny flavor. When my Mom was visiting last weekend, she bought a bag of arugula at the Farmer's Market, which we didn't use for anything. Arugula isn't my favorite thing, and this fresh stuff was exceptionally peppery. I picked this recipe because you wilt arugula down into the sauce at the end, so it would use up some of my stash. The arugula actually worked well with the other flavors.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Finally, to accompany last night's roast chicken, I made Mashed Sweet Potatoes with Orange Essence (pg 267). With buttermilk, orange juice and zest, nutmeg, brown sugar, and a little butter, it looked good on paper. The outcome was unremarkable, though. I tripled the buttermilk, and it was still a dry mash. The buttermilk curdled a little when the orange juice hit it, so there were little flecks of white mixed into my potatoes. To top it all off, the orange flavor wasn't even especially pronounced.

Conclusion: Disliked.

Every year for the past few years, I've made marshmallows at the holidays, using Alton Brown's recipe, here. His marshmallows are off the hook delicious. Dense, chewy, vanilla-ey. They have an actual presence, and retain their shape in hot chocolate, so that by the end of the mug, you have chocolate-soaked creamy marshmallows that have managed to still retain their shape.

This year, instead of going tried and true, I figured I'd make Dorie's Marshmallows (pg 404 of Baking). I really need to stop turning to her for recipes that I already have perfectly wonderful recipes for. As with the chocolate chip cookies, these marshmallows were no match against the idea I already have in my head of the ideal.

The process was much different from Alton's. Dorie's involved egg whites; Alton's do not. Dorie's involved a scant 2 tb of corn syrup, Alton's uses a cup. Dorie makes up the difference with a ton of sugar. Alton says to coat them with a mix of corn starch and powdered sugar, which makes sense in terms of retaining sweetness. Dorie just coats hers in corn starch.

I love how they look, but they're no good.

I knew these would be different from Alton's, as soon as I dolloped spoonfuls out onto my pre-powdered cookie sheets (a presentation I learned from David Lebovitz's blog, as opposed to cutting the marshmallows into squares). The concoction was wet, instead of dense and sticky. Dorie's recipe produces light, melt-in-hot-chocolate types of marshmallows. Eaten plain, they have a weird under-taste that I can't identify. I'm not sure what to do with them. Matt ate one, wrinkled his nose, said, "It just tastes like sugar," and then asked me if I could still make my normal recipe, too. Yes, I sure can.

Later, I made a microwaved smore out of one, thinking that surely that would be a respectable use of them. This is going to sound weird, but after it's round in the microwave, the marshmallow reminded me of farts. Not good.

After a day, the marshmallows started to melt in their bag. I threw them out.

Conclusion: Hated them. What a bummer. Alton, I'm coming for you!

Let's Begin, Shall We?

I skipped right over the Crispy Chicken Fingers with Honey Mustard Sauce (pg 200) recipe in The Food You Crave whenever I flipped through the book, for one very simple reason. It sounds nasty. There's not much to it: after soaking chicken strips in buttermilk (she calls for just 15 minutes, but I did it for a few hours), dredge them in crushed up Corn Chex. Yick.

This time around, they caught my eye as a possible way to get Charlie to eat chicken, since Corn Chex are his new favorite snack. This is a fast recipe. I'll give it that. Apart from the soaking and the dredging, these only have to cook for eight minutes. Easy.

And you know what? It worked! Charlie took a few bites of a strip last night (I count that as victory, as he's never eaten any chicken, prior), and spent the rest of the meal clutching the chicken in his little fist. I think he forgot it was there while he picked around for blueberries. Then, unless he fed it to the dog when I wasn't looking, he ate a whole strip with his lunch. WOOP!

That is some ugly chicken.

I would not recommend this recipe to someone who doesn't have to feed a toddler. It tastes like Corn Chex on chicken. Normal people do not eat that and say, "Ooooh, chicken fingers!" However, if you have a fussy toddler, give it a shot.

I usually hate honey mustard sauce. I tried Ellie's recipe, and it was actually pretty good. Much better than anything I've had before, and it did help mask the cereal nature of my chicken.

Conclusion: For an adult, the chicken was Just Okay. The fact that Charlie ate it goes a long way in my book, though, and I'll probably make it again, for that reason.

In an attempt to elevate the meal ever-so-slightly, I made a side of Chickpea and Spinach Salad with Cumin Dressing (pg 132). This was quite nice. Chickpeas, parsley, and red onion are mixed up with their own dressing (lemon juice and zest, cumin, cayenne, etc), placed on spinach, and then the whole is topped with a dressing of yogurt, orange juice/zest, and honey. Ummm...how has it never occured to me to orange-ify my yogurt before? I could eat a bowl of that "dressing."

Conclusion: Liked it. Easy and flavorful. Charlie wanted nothing to do with it. He tried one unseasoned chickpea, spit it out, and then fought off the seasoned one I tried to pop in his mouth. Oh well.

Lastly, today I made Warm Spinach and Artichoke Dip (pg 70). This used skim mozzarella and reduced fat sour cream and cream cheese, but somehow or other, it came out tasting exactly as spinach artichoke dip should. My only gripe is that the whole mess is pureed before baking. Personally, I like some chunkiness in my dip. Not a big deal, though, because the flavor really was spot-on.

 Much to my amazement, Charlie liked this one, too! He poked at it at first when I gave it to him smeared on bread, but dug right in when I dolloped some on a plate and handed him a spoon.

Proof! Yes, it was that big of a deal. I needed to take a picture. 

Conclusion: Liked it, and Charlie-Approved. Victoryyyyy!

Wrapping Up Perfect Vegetables, and Up Next

December 15th snuck up on me. My failure to love America's Test Kitchen/Cook's Illustrated books in the past had me a bit wary of Perfect Vegetables at the start, but this month has passed quickly, with few outright failures, several wonderful successes, and a whole list of recipes that I still want to make.

Standouts were the Greek-Style Potatoes, Assertive Greens with Bacon and Onion, and the Wilted Spinach Salad with Feta, Olives, and Lemon Vinaigrette. I could eat a dinner of just those three things, and be a happy, happy girl.

Perfect Vegetables is a keeper. I wasn't wild about every single recipe, but the ones I loved, I loved more than I thought I would. I mean, we're talking about vegetables here. How great can vegetable recipes be? Turns out, very. Plus, this book brought much-needed diversity to my vegetable repertoire. I expect that this book will be open on my counter often. Braised Fennel with White Wine and Parmesan looms in my horizon. mmmmmm

Up Next is Ellie Krieger's The Food You Crave. I know I hated So Easy, but I've actually cooked a good number of recipes from TFYC in the past, and liked most of what I had. I get the sense that Ellie put everything she had into that book, and had run out of good ideas by the time she hit So Easy. So, let us not judge poor Ellie, based upon So Easy.

Matt once teased me that cookbooks are my friends. As long as cookbooks aren't my only friends, I'm A-OK with that statement. ha! Following that analogy, though, Ellie is the sweet friend who nudges you to lose weight by asking you to join a gym with her, because she needs it. As I mentioned previously, I've turned into a treat-eating psycho with no off-switch this holiday season, so in the interest of cooking from a more health-minded book, my choice was between this or The Essential Eating Well Cookbook, which I dread getting around to.

A few of my go-to recipes come from The Food You Crave (Ellie makes a kick-ass pork tenderloin), but I'll focus mostly on recipes I haven't tried yet.

This is your second chance, Ellie. Don't let me down.