Why Does That Kid Look So Happy?

Two recipes to report! The first is short and sweet. In the pictures in the book, Carrot + Cardamom Soup looks fresh and pretty. Mine looks quite unappetizing. No description necessary...

I added chicken, because carrot soup is not a meal.

That said, it tasted good. Nothing earth-shattering, but I seem to like anything with cardamom in it. Batman stubbornly sat, not eating, for an hour and a half. He said, "It's fine, if I could just get this flavor off my tongue." O-kaaaaay. When I told him it was time to get ready for bed, he finally ate it really quickly, saying that now that he'd let it sit, it tasted better, and he liked it as much as cauliflower soup. He advised that I write "let it rest a long time" into the directions. No.

Conclusion: Liked it.

In hopes that it would be a crowd-pleaser, I made Chicken Nuggets yesterday. The recipe has you brine chicken breasts, coat them in arrowroot powder, which I happened to have (WHY was this in my pantry??), and fry them in a cup of ghee. DO I LOOK LIKE I'M MADE OF MONEY? I couldn't bring myself to waste an entire cup of ghee on frying some chicken nuggets, so I used vegetable oil, ensuring paleo/whole30 ostracization. Spell check is telling me ostracization is not a word. I like it, though, and I'm keeping it. Now I'm banished by grammar purists. I'm on a roll today. (I just drank extra coffee. Can you tell?)

I had serious qualms about the nuggets while they were frying, because parts seemed crispy, but other parts were gummy. Like, melted cheese stretching between the tongs and the nugget type of gummy. In the book, the nuggets are golden. Mine mostly stayed white. Eaten immediately, the coating was surprisingly crisp.

This is my "this toddler is trying to kill himself while I cook dinner, I don't have time for vegetables!!!" plate.

However, these were overwhelmingly salty. The only salt was from the brine. Was I supposed to rinse the meat before I used it? The instructions didn't say to. I thought it was just me, but even Batman said they were "good, but TOO salty." We both actually felt sick to our stomachs after dinner, and he didn't want the leftovers for lunch today. I'm definitely bloated today, and chugging as much water as I can. I don't know what happened here. I can't imagine they are supposed to be like this. Batman looked at the cookbook while I was cleaning up and asked, "Why does that kid look so happy? Why doesn't his stomach hurt?" I don't know, buddy. I really don't.

Also, by the time i wrapped up the leftovers, the arrowroot coating had turned soft and gummy again.

Conclusion: No. No, no, no. A solid Disliked.

Vietnamese Lettuce Cups

Last week, I made Vietnamese Lettuce Cups, with Quick-Pickled Carrot Strings from Nom Nom Paleo. Nothing crazy was going on in this recipe, so I was pretty confident that it would be more edible than that meatloaf. I'm still not over the meatloaf.

Pretty standard.

The main flavors were fish sauce, lime juice, cilantro, mint, and basil. I felt like they needed a little extra something. Some heat? I suppose that's why she recommends eating them with Paleo Sriracha. I'd already made some pickled carrots for this (which were very good.) I didn't have time to make condiments, as well. More of everything might have also helped. That said, the kids both ate this mixed with brown rice, and didn't complain. My favorite part about them was the crunchy little sweet bits of diced apple. They were a lovely surprise.

Thief.

Seriously. Go eat your own.

The portion size on this seemed off to me. Matt was away, so I fed myself and two children, but had less than a cup of meat leftover. This is supposed to feed 4. I assume those 4 people are intended to be adults? I mean, I don't think this is meant to be served as a component of a meal. It's the whole meal, right? Ground pork and lettuce and carrots is NOT FILLING.

Conclusion: I liked the Quick Pickled Carrot Strings, but thought the Vietnamese Lettuce Cups were Just Okay.

First Forays

Well, look at that! I came back! That, my friends, is a step in the right direction.

I've cooked a few things from Nom Nom Paleo since we last spoke.

The best of the bunch was the Roast Beast. I followed this more for the method of cooking it at a low temp for a long time, than for the details. She rubs hers with dukkah. I didn't have dukkah, or the ingredients to make my own, so I rubbed my beef down with my own spice blend. I also was not able to put it on a wire rack in the oven, because mine do not look oven-proof, and I didn't feel like taking chances. I also wasn't able to let it sit for 15 minutes once it was out of the oven, because the children were turning ravenous. I still contend that I followed the recipe. HA!

Conclusion: A strong Liked it. This may be my new go-to method from now on, time-willing. Despite my tinkering, the meat came out tender and pink and juicy. I'm sure it would have been even juicier if I'd let it sit, because a ton of liquid seeped out when I cut it.

With it, I made Garlic Mashed Cauliflower. I tried to make mashed cauliflower once, 15 years ago, and thought it was NASTY. I never made it again. This does not and can not compete with actual mashed potatoes, and anyone who says that they're close has never had good mashed potatoes, but, if I thought of this as some other food, this was pretty good. If it didn't have a hit of nutmeg, I don't know that it would have enough flavor, but as it stands, this was pretty good.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Last night, I made Coconut Pineapple "Rice". I've become a really big fan of cauliflower rice in the past year, and make it almost anytime I cook something saucy (thank you Costco, for your frozen bags of cauliflower rice). I thought this sounded like an interesting variation, but honestly, it didn't turn out so well. I followed the short-end of her cook time, and the cauliflower was straight-up mushy. Blech. My pineapple wasn't sweet enough to lend good flavor, and the whole thing just tasted bland. The hint of onion from the scallions did not go very well with pineapple.

Conclusion: Disliked. I wouldn't make it again.

I'm Back...Again

I feel like my head is all over the place lately. I'd tried to return to my other blog, about life, but when you're not going off on European adventures, and you don't want to get super personal with the great wide world about people and feelings and such, it's hard to think up anything engaging to say. Historically, I'm guilty of starting things that I don't finish. Often. You may have guessed that about me. It's one of the things I like least about myself. Honestly, I'm afraid to publicize in any way that I'm considering re-starting this blog, because who would even believe me anymore? I've come and gone so often! It was just a few months ago that I'd announced I was re-starting Mandatory Fun, and then let it fizzle out. Again. Oy.

The kitchen is still my happy place, and I miss having a little writing space, even if it's "just" a cooking blog. I REALLY miss the sense of fellowship that I had with the French Fridays with Dorie crew, back in the day. Dorie has a new book coming out in the Fall. Who knows? Maybe the band'll get back together to cook through it.

Batman and I have our own side project of working through Dorie's Cookies, so I don't intend to follow the Tuesdays with Dorie group's schedule for that, but I thought the other day, "Oh, I'll catch up with what they've made from Baking, Chez Moi." Ha! Hahahahahahaha!

This is how many recipes I've missed. Unattainable goal, at this point.

Too much time has passed since I last kept up with them. I'll never make up the ground. I think I'm just going to look forward, and try to bake future recipes with the group. The problem with this is that I've been really tight with my nutrition and exercise lately, and weekly bake-alongs don't really jive with that. I MISS baking, though. I've been doing mostly Whole30 and paleo eating since June, and I feel like I need to figure out a way to bring things into balance. I have a history of compulsively inhaling all baked goods in my path, which Whole30 has given me much greater control over. We'll see how it goes. If I can't have a piece of cake and be done, I'll have to step away from the Doristas again. If I CAN, then awesome!

I'd tried in the past few months to cook along with the Food52 cookbook club, as well as the club from Tasting Table, but my efforts to eat primarily paleo (because it makes my body feel good), kept me from participating much. In case you're wondering, Mastering the Art of French Cooking is NOT paleo friendly. So much cream. So much cheese. Lovely, lovely cheese.

I'm rambling. Like I said, my head is all over the place. 

So here's my plan. I'm going back to how I started this blog. I'll cook as much as I can from one particular book for a month, and see if it wins me over. The books I pick will be ones that support my current nutrition goals. So, first up, after an exceptionally long hiatus:

This book has a comic book type format that's kind of cute to begin with, but when I actually used it to cook a recipe yesterday, it was a little hard to follow along. Maybe I just have to get used to it.

For the record, the Yankee Pot Roast smelled bomb while it was cooking. It was different from other pot roasts I've made in that it goes heavy on the balsamic vinegar (no complaints here), and calls for dried porcini mushrooms. I busted out one of my last bags of dried porcini that I packed when we moved back to the US from Italy, so I was a little sad that they were unnoticeable in the finished product. In general, I'd have preferred a load of more carrots in there. The flavor of the meat was really delicious, though, and both kids ate it.

Have I even mentioned on this blog that I've had a second kid? He's almost 2 now. LOL We'll call him Nugget, and he eats everything in sight. Literally everything. He was licking the dog's bowl a few days ago. Nasty. And Batman still won't eat anything. That's not true. He's actually getting a lot better about being willing to try things and admitting if he DOES actually like something. He's still the slowest eater to ever walk the earth, though.

As far as the pot roast goes, Conclusion: Liked it. Charlie Approved.

My Paris Kitchen: Belgian Beef Stew with Beer and Spice Bread

On the one hand, I was looking forward to a nice long day of slow cooking. On the other hand, I'm admittedly not a huge fan of stews. Especially stews that require you to make a separate recipe, for pain d'epices, a day or two ahead of time. However, some of Dorie's recipes in Around My French Table have opened me up to enjoying stew--sometimes--and the honey spice bread sounded delicious on its own. The idea of slathering slices of it with mustard and stirring it into the stew? Odd.

I'm not sure that my bread turned out the way it was supposed to. The photo in the book is domed and looks like it has an airy crumb. Mine came out of the oven already sunk in the center, and it was dense and kind of chewy. It tasted good, but I kept re-reading the recipe to see if I had missed a step or an ingredient. Nothing jumped out at me.

I started the stew right after I ate lunch. It smelled amazing while it was cooking. I wish I'd followed my gut and crisped up the bacon a bit before adding the onions. I know perfectly well that any time a recipe tells me to add bacon and onions together, the bacon stays flaccid and fatty. Yuck.

Maybe I didn't cut my chuck roast into small enough pieces. After five hours, it was still not fork-tender.

I cut the difference on adding the spice bread to the stew, and only used two slices. I'm glad I didn't use the full four slices, because I think it would have made the broth too sludgy.

I ate a little. I didn't really love it. If the meat had broken down more, I'd have been happier. The flavor was okay. The meat was way too tough for me. I didn't have more than five hours to let it simmer.

Conclusion: Liked the spice bread, especially slathered with plum jam. Didn't really like the stew.

My Paris Kitchen: Dukkah-Roasted Cauliflower

I'll admit, I wasn't overly enthusiastic about cooking this week's Cook the Book Fridays selection so early in our time with My Paris Kitchen. I've only made a handful of recipes prior to the group starting, and this was one of them. Instead of making my own dukkah, or "Egyptian Spiced Nut Mix," I'd used a jar of Trader Joe's version. It was disgusting. I immediately threw out the jar.

I knew full well that the flaw last time around was with the jar of dukkah I used, not with any of Lebovitz's instructions, but still, my excitement was low. This time, I followed his recipe to make my own. Sort of. I thought I had some of the ingredients--sesame seeds, fennel seeds, cumin seeds--but I must have finished them before we moved from Italy, or they got lost somewhere between Naples and Virginia. I used ground cumin, and omitted the sesame and the fennel, though I can absolutely see this would be even better if I'd had them. I also followed his variation and used toasted almonds instead of hazelnut, because I have a big Costco-sized bag of them in my fridge.

Because I am a lazy mortar and pestler, there were some almost-whole chunks of almond left behind. These were delicious, fished right out of the mortar. I gave one to Charlie, and he said, "Wow, you're right. That IS tasty." This is of particular note, because he doesn't like nuts. I wished I'd been even lazier with my grinding, because I wanted more nut chunks to pick at.

Once the dukkah was made, it was an easy job of roasting the cauliflower and tossing the nut mix on halfway through.

Unfortunately, I over-salted my cauliflower. The pork chops I made were also too salty, so I liked this less, the more I ate. I'm aware this was my problem, and not the recipe's. I've made myself a  note to go easy on the salt next time.

I also sampled the dukkah by dipping some nice seedy bread in beautiful olive oil that I brought home from Puglia, then dipping it in the mix. Honestly, I preferred it straight up like this, rather than on the cauliflower, where the toasty flavors were lost in the salt (again, my fault).

Conclusion: For the Dukkah, liked it. I definitely want to try it again with all of the ingredients. I really think those sesame seeds would have contributed a lot. For the Dukkah-roasted Cauliflower, for now, I'd say Just Okay. Both times I've made this, the problem has been mine. Still, I'm not especially interested in making it again.

Gut-Buster

I made Daddy's Carbonara (pg 36 of The Food52 Cookbook), primarily because I had all the ingredients--spaghetti, bacon, eggs, parmesan, and the unconventional choice of peas, and secondarily, because I knew Charlie would eat it.

This really wants a lot of bacon. A pound. Holy moly. I used half, and it still seemed like more than was necessary.

The peas were fine. I don't know that they really added much, regarding flavor or texture.

I ate way too much of this. I love carbonara. Lately, I've been eating whole wheat pasta. Carbonara is all about luxurious caloric excess, and demands normal pasta, even though one of the notes for this recipe suggests that you could use whole wheat. Nope. I protest. This is not a meal that should be approached with any intention of cutting calories.

I asked Charlie how it tasted. He said, "Good. Delicious, actually. Why has it been so long since we ate this?" Because Mom has no self-control, my dear.

Conclusion: Liked it. Charlie approved.

In an effort to replace my heartburn-inducing lemonade addiction, I figured I'd try Mint Limeade (pg 362). Lime juice, mixed with mint simple syrup and club soda sounded like it might fit the bill with a bit less acid.

Turns out, this is a very strange flavor combination. I had one glass, and no desire to drink more.

Conclusion: Disliked.

Muffin Me

This'll be a quick one. On Saturday morning, Charlie and I baked Mom's Blueberry-Coconut Muffins (pg 32 of The Food52 Cookbook). I'd bought a big ol' container of blueberries at Trader Joe's earlier in the week. They weren't particularly good. When faced with questionable fruit, it doesn't take much to convince me to bake it. Charlie loves blueberries, and has always raved about anything I've baked that involves coconut, so these muffins were an obvious choice, even though coconut is not my favorite flavor.

Maybe everyone knows this trick, but I didn't. The recipe has you toss the blueberries with some flour, to keep them all from sinking to the bottom. Turns out, this actually works. I'm going to lock that away for all future blueberry recipes. 

There were no surprises here. We all went back for more.

Conclusion: Liked it, and Charlie-approved.

Acid Soup

This morning, when I was trying to figure out something cheap to cook for dinner, Smoky Minestrone with Tortellini and Parsley or Basil Pesto (pg 387 of The Food52 Cookbook) sounded really good. Bacon? Good. Leeks? Good. San Marzano tomatoes? Good. Tortellini? Good. Veg and pesto? Good and good. Only need to buy a zucchini and some chicken broth? Great.

However, by the time I started cooking, my daily heartburn had kicked in, and those same ingredients--the bacon, the onions, the tomatoes--looked like a boiling vat of acid.

What's that you say? Eileen, you know this baby is crowding your stomach and giving you heartburn every day. Why in the world would you have two glasses of lemonade with lunch? Yeah, that's fair. You're right. I have no excuse, except that I can't get enough lemonade or olives (not together) this pregnancy. Would I have avoided this evening's reflux, if not for that lemonade? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. Don't you judge me!

I carried on and cooked the soup, mostly as written. I omitted the leek, because the Giant near me only stocks organic ones for $3.99 each. No. Not paying that. The first time I couldn't find generic leeks there, I thought it was a fluke. Apparently not. Isn't that weird? Other supermarkets around have leeks, but going to a second store smacked of effort. Oh well. I also cheated, and used a dollop of pesto from my Costco jar. I love fresh pesto, but the jar was just sitting there in my fridge, already made.

I ate a very small bowl, and it was pretty delicious. I've never had tortellini in minestrone soup before, and it's a very satisfying addition. I look forward to having a bigger bowl for lunch tomorrow. I'll try to refrain from the lemonade. No promises.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Food52: Steak for an Alexandria Kitchen Grill Pan

Whereas I found the name of "salad dressing" charmingly simple the other day, Steak for a Brooklyn Backyard Barbecue (pg 65 of The Food52 Cookbook) made me roll my eyes, just as all the snobby, posing, transplanted hipsters who act like they own the borough I was born and raised in do. I mean, man-buns? Who are these people? Okay, so the recipe didn't fill me with the same level of rage as the people do, but I feel fairly confident that the author of this recipe (since the recipes in the book were all taken from those submitted by people on the website) is a non-Brooklynite who thinks she's obtained a higher sphere of cool by moving to Brooklyn. These transplants loooooove making it known that they live in Brooklyn. Do they think it makes them tough? There's nothing gritty about Park Slope or Williamsburgh anymore. Oh, they annoy me. Primarily because they give so many dirty looks to those of us who are actually from the area, who dare to go out for breakfast without a fully planned and coiffed "outfit." Anyway, identifying the author as a transplant is the only way I can account for Brooklyn's presence in the title, since the location of one's barbecue has no impact on the outcome of the meat. It's not like this spice rub is a regional specialty. So weird. I digress...

Anyway, the meat is rubbed down with chopped mint, salt, paprika, garlic, and oil. Ideally, it is then thrown on the barbecue. I don't know how to light a barbecue. Don't tell anyone. If Matt's not home to do it, the barbecue isn't going to be used. So, I opted for our grill pan.

I understood as soon as I applied the rub that I was going to lose a lot of flavor. There was no way all that glorious garlic and mint would stay on my meat instead of adhering to the grill pan. I was right.

Ugly.

What did make it to our plates was delicious. Matt grunted, "Good meat." Charlie ate his, though he said, "It tastes strong." Because of the garlic? I don't know. He didn't argue about it--simply commented, so I didn't press him for details. I definitely want to try this again when Matt can give it the proper treatment on the bbq.

Conclusion: Liked it, despite the annoying title. Charlie approved.

Food52: Green and Pink

To accompany Lebovitz's steak on Saturday, I also made a simple salad, dressed with Food52's Salad Dressing (pg 39). I find it charming that the title is so simple. It's just salad dressing, but it's a damn good one. The dressing is a familiar blend of vinegar, oil, garlic, and dijon mustard. In addition to balsamic vinegar, it calls for white balsamic vinegar, which I didn't even know existed, but found easily at the supermarket. In the opening, they consider Worcestershire sauce to be one of the recipe's nice surprises. Personally, 1/4 teaspoon hardly seems like enough to impact the flavor. I certainly couldn't tell it was in there.

This came together easily, and I like that you just shake it up in a jar to emulsify it. It was tasty and balanced, and got me to eat two big portions of salad. Also have salad on the menu for tonight, because the recipe made a lot of dressing for someone who only likes the barest coating on her lettuce.

Conclusion: Liked it. 

On Sunday, I made Risotto Rosso (pg 347). As long as I add no green components to risotto, it's one of the few meals that I can consistently get Charlie to eat and enjoy without a fight. I've had good luck with mushroom, leek, chestnut, and saffron risottos, so I crossed my fingers and hoped that I could add Food52's version to the list of acceptable foods. Unlike the others, this one stains the rice pinkish with red wine before fattening the grains up with a mixture of beef and chicken broth. Additional delicious ingredients include pancetta (always a good start), shallots, mushrooms, and parmesan.

I was amused to find that the recipe gives preference to Carnaroli rice over arborio. This is the first risotto recipe I've seen that specifically asks for Carnaroli. While living in Italy, I mentioned to an Italian friend that I'd made risotto earlier that week. He asked what kind of rice I used (because these things matter to Italians. They have a lot of food rules.) I said arborio. His jaw dropped, and he quickly set me straight--that around Naples, risotto is ONLY made with Carnaroli rice. I had never heard of Carnaroli, but went straight to the supermarket and bought some. Is it different from arborio? I don't really know. It seems the same to me. Mauro says that arborio gets mushy faster, while Carnaroli maintains its integrity. I choose to believe him, and am now afraid to make risotto with anything else. I brought three boxes back to the US with me, and am carefully rationing them out. I opened my second box for this recipe. Time to start worrying about where I'll get more.

Anyway, back to the meal. Charlie was skeptical at first, because of the color. He asked what the "orange" things were, but once I convinced him it was bacon (which I used in place of pancetta), he cleaned his bowl. For the record, the bacon was not orange. I don't know what he was talking about. My only complaint is that we all wanted seconds, and there was none left.

We ate it before I remembered to take a picture. Oops. 

Conclusion: loved it.Charlie approved.

My Paris Kitchen: Steak with Mustard Butter and French Fries

I'm a few days late with my post for Cook the Book Fridays, but I needed a day or two after returning from our vacation in San Diego (so lovely!) to get into cooking mode.

On weeknights, Charlie and I eat before Matt gets home from work, so I planned to make Steak with Mustard Butter and French fries for Saturday, because nobody wants cold french fries and reheated beef. I was grateful that this recipe was so easy to scale up at the last minute, because Matt decided to go out and buy a piece of furniture for our basement at around 3, then realized after he got home that I, being six months pregnant, should probably not help him carry it into the house. We lured a friend over with promises of steak frites, ran out to buy a third ribeye, rubbed it down with salt, chili powder, and parsley, let it sit in the fridge for an hour, then proceeded as planned.

My steaks must have been thinner than Lebovitz's. I cooked them according to his timing, and they lost all blush of pink. They were still juicy, but not my ideal cook. He'd specified that he likes his steaks to be thinner so that there's more surface area, but mine must have been too thin. Ah well. Much to my surprise, because I'm not a huge mustard fan, I lo-oved the mustard butter with the steak. I see a lot of mustardy steaks in my future.

No pic of the steak, because I felt dumb photographing it in front of company.

The french fries were good, too. I mean--french fries. Unless they're cold and dry, they're always going to be pretty good. Even if they're oven fries.

That mustard butter stole the show.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Food52: Celery Root and Loads of Mushrooms

Whenever Matt travels for work, I take the opportunity to cook things for myself that he wouldn't want to eat. Primarily, this means mushroom recipes. He's learned to like some mushroom dishes, but not those that are too in-your-face with the flavor and texture. He flew out today, so I spent the afternoon making Creamy Mushroom Soup (pg 119-120).

With a pound of cremini mushrooms, and an additional pound of mixed mushrooms (I used portabello, oyster, and shiitake), I knew as soon as I saw it that this recipe would exceed Matt's mushroom threshold. The tone of the directions annoyed me once I got started. It actually says to "beautifully and precisely chop the mushroom caps..." I don't beautifully and precisely chop everything. Especially two pounds of mushrooms. Do you know how many mushrooms there are in two pounds? A billion, give or take a few. I did read the recipe through before I started, but I must have been so distracted by that irritating instruction that I glossed over the following sentence, which said to add them to the pan as they were chopped (presumably to avoid crowding). I chopped all my mushrooms in one go. Oh well.

The finished product is a hair shy of being overwhelmingly mushroomy. It was nearly too much for me. Matt would have hated it. A sprig of rosemary is cooked in the pan with the mushrooms, and later removed. It didn't impart much flavor. Thyme sprigs should have been given the same treatment, but I couldn't find any at the supermarket, so I sprinkled some ground thyme in as the mushrooms cooked. I also couldn't get chives, which should have been added in at the end. I wish I had them. I think they would have added a nice additional flavor and cut the earthiness a bit.

All in all, a nice soup. It was brothy, despite the cream and loads of mushrooms, but not especially filling. Two hours later, I'm hungry again. This might be better as an appetizer than a main course.

Conclusion: Liked it.

The other day, I made Autumn Celeriac (Celery Root) Puree (pg 133.) I don't have a lot to say about it. It was pretty bland. I always thought that one of the appealing things about making celery root puree instead of mashed potatoes was that it was a little healthier. This recipe adds heavy cream, which undermines any calories saved by using a celery root, and frankly, mashed potatoes are way more delicious. I didn't take a picture, but it just looked like white puree. 

Conclusion: Just okay.

Pioneer Woman: Bagel and Cream Cheese Baked French Toast

As host of the book club meeting where I prepared Dorie's vanilla cake, I also served Pioneer Woman's Bagel and Cream Cheese Baked French Toast (from the New Year's Day section of A Year of Holidays). This recipe was perfect for morning-time company, because the bagels, cream cheese, and grated cheddar are supposed to soak in the cayenne and mustard egg goodness overnight. There's also supposed to be chives in there, but I had none.

This was delicious and filling. My friend's mom who was visiting her and came to book club asked for the recipe. I had to use Thomas' bagels, which are an affront to everything this Brooklynite holds dear, but they worked okay here. My husband would have killed me if I baked my homemade bagels and then ripped them apart and used them in this manner.

Leftovers reheated pretty well

I'm certain that this breakfast would be amazing with fresh bagels--but preferably ones purchased from a shop. I am certain that I'll be trying this again when I move back to the states.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Catching Up with Pioneer Woman

I haven't cooked from A Year of Holidays in a while, primarily because most of the recipes don't click with my post-holidays detox. However, I do have a few to catch up on.

One day before Christmas, I brought Eight-Layer Dip to a friend's house (pg 43, from the The Big Game section. I like that Ree counts the Super Bowl as a holiday. Ha!) The entire event provided me with a perfect example of my current refrain of "I'M OVER NAPLES!"

My friend lives on a main drag in Pozzuoli (birthplace of Sophia Loren). We foolishly scheduled a date at 1:00 on a Sunday. I can never find parking in Pozzuoli on Sundays, because all the Italians (and I mean ALL of them) go out to lunch, unless they're going to Mama's. I drove three rounds of the area, which took my 45 minutes because of car and pedestrian traffic, and found a spot in a lot just when I was about to give up. In the lot I normally park in, you don't have to pay on Sundays. I couldn't determine if I had to pay based upon the sign in this lot. It said it was free on "festivi and pre-festivi." So that's on holidays. And pre-holidays??? I don't know. I assume that means the day before a holiday? I pretty much decided that I did have to pay, even though no one else was. I carefully formed a question in my head and asked a man who was in the lot, and after quite a bit of me not knowing what he was saying, he did gesture to the ticket machine and say "bigliette", which means "ticket." I took that to mean that I did need a ticket.

I, of course, had no change, because in most lots, you don't have to pay on Sundays. I went to the restaurant next door and asked if they could break my 20. No. I went across the street and bought a bottle of water. The cashier gave me the look of death, exhaled disgustedly, and gave me my change. They're very territorial regarding their coins here, to the point where I've had people refuse to sell things to me if I try to pay with a bill. And yet, the ATMs distribute 50s. And around and around we go...

Back to the ticket machine. Balancing my 8 layer dip on my knee, I bought my ticket for a few hours. The man I'd spoken with earlier walked up to me. I finally figured out he was saying that he was going to watch my car and make sure it wasn't broken in to. That's a thing, here. You really have no choice in the matter. If you don't pay them a few euro, they'll break your windows next time they see your car. Yay, Italy! Standard procedure is that you pay them when you return to your car and see that it's safe and sound. This guy was demanding money from me up front. I was like, "Dude, I just used all my change to get my ticket," except I don't know how to say that, so I just kept saying, "Bigliette!" like an idiot. Also, like an idiot, I still had the 15 euro in bills that the cashier had given me clutched in my hand (which was also gripping my long, heavy Pyrex tray).

Dude plucked a 5 euro bill out of my hand and walked away. Simultaneously, I realize that my legs were wet. I looked down. The tomatoes had watered down the sour cream, and the entire front of my body was splattered with white water. Jacket, legs, and shoes were soaked. I stormed down Via Napoli, cursing Naples under my breath long after I reached my friend's house. It was two months ago, and I still get pissed off when I think about it.

For what it's worth, my car was unharmed when I returned to it.

The dip was tasty, but the memory of it will always be wrapped up in residual aggravation. We ate 3/4 of a tray while watching The Bourne Identity. That's a lot of refried beans for two girls.

Conclusion: Liked it, but I might need therapy before I can make it again. 

Friends invited us over for dinner shortly before Christmas. I made Spreads (pg 312 of the Christmas section) because they looked quick and easy, and don't involve nuts, which one of her sons is allergic to. It's a basic shortbread type cookie that is spread out on a baking sheet. Right before they're ready, sprinkle chocolate chips on top and bake for another minute. These are supposed to get melty, and then you spread them out so they ice the cookies.

These are the best looking ones, and they're not that great. Most were a wreck.

Yeah. Umm. This didn't work. At all. Maybe my chocolate chips were old or something, but they didn't become spreadable. They were grainy and solid. I kept leaving them in longer and longer, hoping that they'd start to melt. Didn't happen. All I accomplished was overcooking the cookie dough, which, frankly, wasn't particularly delicious.

They looked horrendous, and tasted pretty bad, too. I couldn't bring them to dinner. I had to make a quick cake (Nigella's olive oil chocolate cake) to replace them. The cake was delicious.

Conclusion: Hated them.

For dinner one night, I made Grilled Chicken Skewers (pg 358, the New Years Eve section). This is basically chicken satay. I forgot how much I love chicken satay. This sauce was sweeter than I prefer, but it definitely satisfied the satay craving. I'd cut back on the honey next time. I was sure Charlie would like this. Nope.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Pioneer Woman: Turkey Tetrazzini

I landed on Turkey Tetrazzini, one of Ree's suggestions for your Thanksgiving leftovers, because I had a little bit of turkey left. I bought a rotisserie chicken to supplement it. Good thing I did, because when I opened the bag of turkey, it didn't smell quite right. We'd been working on it for over a week, so I guess it hit its boundary. Tossed it and used the chicken. Crisis averted.

Butter and garlic and mushrooms and wine, cream cheese and olives and bacon and cheese, all mixed with pasta. While I cooked, I'd periodically hear Matt yell, "That smells SO good," from the living room, where he was watching Rudolph with Charlie. He was right. It did smell so good.

I tasted it before I popped it in the oven, and started to laugh. It tasted like my Grandma's "tuna slop", only with chicken instead of tuna, and with ingredients I can pronounce and identify. I don't say that as a criticism. I love Tuna Slop. I much prefer to make a version that doesn't involve Velveeta or a can of cream of mushroom soup, if I can help it, though. I also added finely chopped broccoli, just to give it a bit more veg.

This is worth making, whether you have leftover turkey or not. It was cozy and comforting and delicious. Even Charlie ate it! He picked all the peas out, but I expected that, as he has never in his life eaten a pea. He ate the chicken, mushrooms, and broccoli without seeming to notice them, though. Woohoo!

This makes a massive amount of food. Once again, I forgot that Ree says it serves 12. I probably could have cut the recipe in half. We'll finish up the leftovers for dinner tonight. I'm not sick of it yet, though Matt may be, because he's also been bringing portions to work for lunch. I'll give him a breather before I make it again. 

Conclusion: Liked it.

Thanksgiving with Pioneer Woman

I've made a bunch of recipes from The Pioneer Woman Cooks: A Year of Holidays. Most of them are from the Thanksgiving section, but not all of them are.

First up, Drop Biscuits (pg 346, the Christmas section). I brought these over to a friend's house a few week's ago. She made soup and mulled wine. I made biscuits and dessert. I've had a hit-or-miss relationship with biscuits in the past. I always blame my failures on my Yankee-dom. These Drop Biscuits are simple to make (put the ingredients in the food processor. Whir. Scoop spoonfuls on to a baking sheet. Bake.) and turned out to be delicious. I need to make biscuits more often.

Conclusion: Loved them.

Matt and I haven't been overly impressed with our Thanksgiving stuffing for the past few years, so we decided to mix it up this year and use Ree's Basic Thanksgiving Dressing (pg 258). This uses three types of bread: cornbread, Italian bread, and ciabatta, and a host of standard stuffing flavors: celery, onion, parsley, thyme, rosemary, and basil. She uses dried herbs. In the future, I'd like to try it with fresh herbs. I think this was a good starting point. I felt it needed a bit more flavor, but I'm not totally sure what to do to it. I liked that the cornbread practically turned to breadcrumbs and coated all the other breads. There was a lot of different texture.

Conclusion: Liked it, but it needs some fiddling. We didn't salt it enough this time. Needs more oomph.

For the dressing, I made Ree's recipe for Skillet Cornbread (pg 268). This was easy to make, and it worked fine in the dressing, but I don't like it on its own. The cornbread is VERY salty and gritty. This may be why Matt undersalted the dressing--I warned him that the cornbread was salty. I like sweet, wet cornbread. This was the opposite. Different strokes for different folks.

Conclusion: Disliked, but it worked fine for the dressing.

I almost forgot about the Giblet Gravy. Matt is the Bird-meister, so he made the gravy. I was uninvolved, so I have no input regarding the process. All I can say is that it was deeeeeeelicious. I can never be without it again.

Conclusion: Loved it. 

I'm roasting a chicken tonight to use up our leftover dressing. For a side, I decided to try Ree's Cranberry Sauce (pg 256). This was a last-minute decision, and so I don't have the orange zest and juice that I'm supposed to. I threw in a splash of mandarinetto instead. Figured it couldn't hurt. I normally make a basic cranberry sauce with sugar, orange zest, and juice. The difference here is that, instead of sugar, Ree uses a cup of maple syrup.

I'm torn about what to think. I love the smokey maple flavor that the syrup gives to the sauce, but it's too sweet. It's possible that the orange zest and juice might have cut the sweetness a bit. I'm not sure. I may continue to play with this, cutting back on the amount of syrup used until the balance tips over a bit in favor of cranberry tartness. It's cranberry sauce. I want to taste the cranberry!

Conclusion: Liked it, but it needs tweaking.

A Year of Holidays: Popcorn Balls

I don't know what it is about Ree Drummond's presentation, but I want to make everything in this book. Everything. Even things that I'm pretty sure I'd pass right over in a different cookbook, like Popcorn Balls (pg 232), which are in the Halloween section, but, like the pancakes, could easily be tweaked for any holiday, season, or mood. They look so damn festive and kid-friendly, dyed yellow, with cheerful nubbins of candy corn and peanuts jutting out, that I couldn't resist.

I'd originally planned to make these for Halloween, because we were having pre-trick-or-treat dinner with friends and their two kids, and I felt strongly that the kids  needed to have Popcorn Balls in their lives.

I didn't get my act together in time to make them, even though they aren't complicated. You basically give popcorn the Rice Krispie Treat treatment, by coating them in melted buttery marshmallow. Can't be bad.

I thought the same kids would be at my friend's housewarming party this afternoon, so I brought the treats there, instead. Unfortunately for the young'uns, they were sick and stayed home. Fortunately for my group of pretending-to-be-adult friends, that meant more for us. Charlie, for some reason, was uninterested. I don't know how a kid can look at these festive balls of glory and say, "Nah," but that is what he did.

Like I said. More for us.

Everyone really, really liked them. There was some raving going on. I was absolutely  not expecting these to be such a hit with the grown-ups. It either proves that we're young at heart, or that we like big balls. Take your pick.

I have one complaint with the process. First you mix the popcorn into the melted marshmallow, and then you stir the candy in. This is harder than it sounds. Because the pot is still hot, the candy sinks to the bottom and then melts/adheres to the pot, and does not incorporate into the popcorn easily. Even though it would create another dish, I think there needs to be a step where you dump the marshmallowed popcorn into a cool bowl, and carry on from there.

Conclusion: Liked it. It was a surprise hit among the big kids.

A Year of Holidays: Petrifying Pumpkin Pancakes

I find the Halloween section in The Pioneer Woman Cooks: A Year of Holidays to be especially adorable. First recipe up on my mental agenda was Petrifying Pumpkin Pancakes (pg 223). There was just one hitch. The Commissary had no canned pumpkin. At all. For weeks. American women are crazy for Autumn pumpkin products, and they cleaned the shelves in a frenzy that the re-stock couldn't keep up with, I guess. The hoarding is contagious. When I finally found pallets of pumpkin stacked in the produce section, I grabbed eight cans. EIGHT CANS. I am not going to use eight cans of pumpkin this Autumn. Better start baking pie. Mmmm...piiiiie.

Once I snagged my pumpkin puree, these pancakes jumped to the top of the dinner menu, much to Matt's horror. He scoffs at the thought of "breakfast food" for dinner. He refused to eat these pancakes, and opted for leftovers instead. More for me.

The thing that makes these pancakes so cute is that a bit of the batter is pulled out, then flavored with molasses and dyed brown with food dye. Ree says to use a spoon or a plastic squirt bottle to make faces/words/anything you can think of with the brown batter, let the design set on the hot griddle for a few seconds, then pour a normal pancake on top.

I'm here to tell you, don't use a spoon unless you want to scream at your griddle in frustration. It's possible this fun holiday treat was accompanied by a good bit of not-so-restrained cursing.

Methinks my griddle was too hot--just one of a number of problems.

Once I remembered that I had a medicine syringe thing laying around somewhere, and I got the griddle temperature down from molten hot, the experience improved dramatically.

SO CUTE, and Charlie loved them.

My one complaint is that, because of the sugar in the molasses, the brown parts tasted kind of burnt and unpleasant. Pour enough syrup on anything and it'll taste good, but next time, I'd omit the molasses and just use food dye. The design is there to look fun, not to add a layer of flavor.

Conclusion: Liked them. Charlie is so delighted with his Halloween pancakes that I expect to make them next year, too. And so tradition is born. I now house a gallon bag full of them in the freezer. I need to remember in the future that Pioneer Woman is trying to feed an army. I also did some with letters and hearts and other designs, so they don't have to be Halloween themed. 

Pasta and Zucchini and Booze-ahol

A bout of poor dinner planning paid off when I realized that I was in possession of the three ingredients necessary to make Rigatoni alla Pastora (Shepherd's Style Rigatoni with Ricotta and Sausage) from My Calabria. An added bonus was that all three ingredients (pasta, ricotta, sausage) are things that Charlie will eat.

This recipe was easy. Cook chunks of un-cased sausages. Add cooked pasta to the greasy sausage pan. Mix some of the pasta water into ricotta until it loosens up and becomes saucy. Add the pasta and sausage to the ricotta. Season to taste. Boom. Done.

Not a pretty plate of food.

This was heavier than I would prefer, and it made enough to feed an army. Matt and Charlie both loved it, though, and it was simple.

Conclusion: Liked it.

I served Parmigiana di Zucchine with last week's Dorie recipe. If you have a million pounds of zucchini in your garden, this will use it up. If you're going out of your way to procure zucchini, just go the eggplant route instead. The zucchini is lightly fried in olive oil before being layered with cheese and sauce, but it doesn't take on that same luxurious silkiness that eggplant does. I was aware that what I was eating was inferior to eggplant parm for the duration of the meal. It didn't help that Costantino suggests you serve this at room temp, which is a huge mistake, because the mozzarella is tough at room temp. No bene.

Conclusion: Just okay. A heap of it is still sitting in my fridge.

When the relevant fruits (mandarin oranges, which my landlord has a grove of, and strawberries) were in season this year, I used Costantino's recipe to make Liquore al Mandarino, as well as the Fragolino Variation. Italians, including Costantino, use grain alcohol for their liquore. Too many of my friends have produced undrinkable limoncello with grain alcohol, so I learned last year, using a different "mandarinetto" recipe that using a mid-grade vodka produces a muuuuuuch smoother and more delicious drink. I substituted vodka into Costantino's recipe, too, but used her proportions of fruit, alcohol, and sugar-water/syrup. Both flavors are deeeelicious. Love them.