Oh yeah. Easter.

I totally forgot to post about the two Nigella recipes I made at Easter. Woops.

I was supremely excited at the idea of baking Hot Cross Buns this year. Growing up, we always had supermarket hot cross buns around Easter (not necessarily on Good Friday, per the tradition). I loved them. Not that they tasted so great, but I loved them anyway. In general, I figure that anything that's okay store-bought is usually phenomenal when it's home made. Live and learn.

The spice mixture in Nigella's recipe piqued my interest immediately. Cardamom pods, clove, orange zest, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ground ginger are a promising flavor base for just about anything. These are used to infuse melted butter. Sounds good. As I was cooking, I realized that the dough did not include sugar. At all. This alarmed me at the time, but I figured maybe the glaze would provide all necessary sweetness.

I was alarmed again when I saw that the dough is supposed to have a long, slow rise overnight in the fridge. I have never had luck with recipes that say the dough will rise cold. I've tried several, and they've never budged. However, calmed by Nigella's comment that you "need the patience to sit around while they rise and the faith to believe they will," I did not modify this as I've done my bagel recipe, by leaving the dough out for 2-3 hours, then putting it in the fridge overnight.

Suprise, surprise, the dough didn't move. Not one bit. The problem was not old yeast. I've baked bread with the same yeast since then, and it worked just fine.

I removed the bowl from the fridge in the morning and let it sit out all day, hoping it would spring into action once it warmed up. By 3 pm, it looked exactly the same as it did when I started.

Out of ideas, I proceeded with the recipe. I shouldn't have bothered.

I curse you, Buns.

These were hard, disgusting little hockey pucks. The dried fruit and bottoms of the buns burned when baked at the specified 425 degrees. Even if they'd risen perfectly and baked properly, the dough was nasty. It needed sugar. There was no spice flavor. Awful. Wrote "HORRID" with a big black X in my book. I tossed the entire batch in the trash.

After that disaster, I was nervous about bringing Easter Egg Nest Cake to my friend's house for Easter, as I'd never tested it. I'd already bought the ingredients, though, so decided to forge ahead. This cake is a flourless chocolate cake that is meant to crackle on the edges and sink in the middle. The sunken center is filled with chocolate whipped cream, then decorated with pastel candy eggs. SUPER CUTE.

Fortunately, this was delicious. Chocolate whipped cream might be my new favorite thing in the world. I could do without the candy eggs, but they do look cute. The cake vanished quickly. Charlie was angry that he didn't get a piece. (I offered. He didn't want any while it was available. As soon as we got home, he started asking for cake. GRRR.)

This one was a winner, and I'd definitely make it again.

Nigella's Pancake Redemption

I had a hankering for pancakes again this morning, so decided to give Nigella a second chance, regarding pancakes. This time, I made Feast's Banana Buttermilk Pancakes. To make things super-easy, Nigella has you toss all the ingredients (pretty standard--flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, buttermilk, a banana) in a blender and let her rip. Mix in a little melted butter before cooking.

Unlike her Cheesecakelets, these pancakes cooked beautifully. They might be the prettiest pancakes I've ever made. They tasted lightly banana-ey. Fruit is one thing I have no trouble getting Charlie to eat, but I imagine you could trick your kid into eating a banana with this recipe. Because the batter is blended, it's smooth and has no texture that might put a kid on guard.

Conclusion: Liked it. Nigella, you're forgiven for the Cheesecakelet debacle.

Bookending Bologna

On Friday, two hours before we were scheduled to leave for the train station to head up to Bologna for the weekend, Charlie requested pancakes. This kid asks for specific food so infrequently that I decided, sure, let's have pancakes for lunch.

I've had Nigella's Cheesecakelets (pg 191 of Feast) in my head for quite a while, ever since I first saw her whip them up on her tv show. Despite the name, these don't much resemble cheesecake. They have cottage cheese in them, and she says that they remind her of her grandmother's cheesecake. Who am I to argue with an individual's food associations?

There's not a ton of flour involved (only 1/3 cup), especially when taking into account that there are 3 eggs. The eggs are separated, the whites whipped, then folded into the batter.

I found these pancakes to be impossible to handle. They stuck to the griddle and were very slow to cook through, meaning that I kept flipping too-wet pancakes to try to keep the glued-on bottoms from burning. It was a hot mess. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe my pan was too hot. I didn't heat the pan any differently than I normally do for pancakes.

I managed to get one to stay intact for Charlie, and he ate it (including cottage cheese) without complaint. I wound up with the torn up messes, and didn't bother cooking the remainder of the batter. The flavor wasn't unique or interesting enough to make this recipe instead of a normal pancake recipe, especially when taking into account how difficult they were to actually cook.

Conclusion: Dislike. Pain in the ass. I may try and slip some cottage cheese into our normal pancake recipe in the future though, for extra protein, since it didn't seem to bother Charlie that it was in there.

I made sure I had all the ingredients on hand to make Penne alla Vodka (pg 133 of Feast), because it seemed like it would be easy enough to throw together on Monday, after a day of travel. It was. This was very delicious, and it tasted like home. Not my actual home, because vodka sauce was not something my mother ever made, but my neighbors did, and I used to like ordering it in restaurants. Kids need vodka too. What? haha.

One thing I found odd, and that I'm not sure I would do again, is that, instead of adding the vodka to the sauce, which is the only way I've ever seen this made, Nigella has you mix butter and the vodka in with the drained pasta, prior to adding it to the sauce. This made it much more obvious that vodka was involved, which may be why she prefers it. I don't know. I think it tastes smoother and less jarring when mixed with the sauce. Also, on Monday night, I'd pulled out Charlie's pasta prior to adding the vodka, and he inhaled his entire plate of pasta and sauce. Last night, I tried to give him the leftovers (which included the boozified pasta), and we fought about it for two hours. In retrospect, I'm wondering if he could taste the difference. It's equally likely that he was just being a pain. The majority of our meals turn into fights, so who knows.

Conclusion: Loved it.

We adults ate Dominican Chimichurri Burgers (pg 152 of The Epicurious Cookbook) last night. The intro describes this as a "messy masterpiece." Messy, yes. Masterpiece? Let's not go crazy.

The basis of this burger--ground beef mixed with diced onion and red pepper, garlic, cilantro, oregano, soy sauce, and Worcestershire, topped with a mixture of mayo, ketchup, and mustard--was very good. I know, because I had the leftover patty for lunch today, minus all the extra unnecessary hooplah. The hooplah in question is sliced cabbage and shredded carrots cooked for two minutes until wilted (huh? Why? It was still crunchy. Not sure what the point of this step was.), grilled tomatoes, and grilled onions. I don't like all that messy crap on top of my burger. The whole thing fell apart while I was eating it. It's just a peeve of mine. The cabbage and carrot was especially unnecessary. Out with it!

Conclusion: Liked it, minus the toppings.

Another Round-up

I really need to start posting about these recipes closer to the time I've prepared them. Some are a little fuzzy in my memory. Maybe that should tell me something.

Peruvian Grilled Chicken (pg 143 of The Epicurious Cookbook) doesn't resemble any Peruvian chicken I've ever had. Once in a blue moon, for a treat, my dad's best friend would stop at a Peruvian chicken place and bring a few birds to my house, where we all descended upon them like a pack of rabid zombies. They were salty and juicy and delicious. Same goes for the ones we used to get when we lived in Norfolk. This version was tasty enough, when looked at objectively, but did not come anywhere close to being delicious enough to be called Peruvian chicken. It was, however, easy. Just marinate chicken parts overnight, then roast them in the oven for a half an hour at really high heat. It was good, but not great. It will not satisfy a Peruvian chicken craving.

Conclusion: Just okay. If it were called Soy Sauce Chicken, I might score it higher, but this is no substitute for the real thing.

Southwestern Lime Chicken (pg 145) is another marinate, then grill recipe. There are other spices in the mix, but the only two flavors that stand out are lime juice and soy sauce. If limey and salty, with a finishing touch of melted Monterey Jack, is your thing, then this is a recipe for you. I liked it. My chicken took a lot longer to cook through than the designated ten minutes. Another easy recipe that I'm glad to have in my pocket.

Sorry, I cut them all to make sure they were done, so it looks a bit dismembered.

Conclusion: Liked it. Can anyone tell me how to use a cast-iron grill pan without smoking out my house?

Thai Fried Eggplant with Basil (pg 273) is technically supposed to be a side dish. I probably should have paid attention to that fact prior to preparing it. This was mighty tasty (especially to my deprived-of-Asian-food tastebuds), and healthily veggie-laden (4 WW points, without counting the rice), but Matt and I were both starving by bedtime. Stomach-growling hunger. No good. However, the protein of your choice could easily be tossed into the wok and stir fried with the rest, so I'll know better next time.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Last night, as a side to a rotisserie chicken, I made Wild Rice with Pecans, Raisins, and Orange Essence (pg 354). Despite the fact that I cut a tablespoon of olive oil, and halved the pecan and the raisins, in order to bring the points value into a more reasonable range (7 pts), this was still very good. There's lots of good flavor here, with the zest and juice of one large orange (or 2 tangerines, in this case), balsamic vinegar, mint leaves, nuts, raisins, and green onions. It's meant to sit for an hour or two, then be served room temp, so it's another easy do-ahead recipe.

Conclusion: Loved it. This tastes extremely orangey, which I like. The whole "essence" business made me expect less flavor.

Lastly, as part of Charlie's Curious George themed birthday party, I made monkey and banana shaped cut-out cookies, using Nigella's recipe in Feast. I can't say I was very impressed. Matt and Charlie had a stomach virus earlier in the week, and I came down with it the night before his original party date, and was congested before that, so it's possible my tastebuds were off, but these cookies didn't have much flavor. They cut well and were fairly sturdy, but if they don't taste delicious, I don't need them in my life. Unfortunately, I wound up having to toss them out because we were all too sick to be interested in eating them before they went bad, and I didn't get a chance to make new ones for his belated party, this past saturday. If I had made new cookies, I would have used a different recipe.

My icing skills need some work.

Conclusion: Disliked. Don't care if they look cute. I want my cookies to taste good.

Fingers Crossed

Charlie was sick to his stomach all night. Around 5:30 this morning, Matt got sick, too. I figure it's only a matter of time before I'm taken down, so while I'm exposing myself to contagion, snuggling with wee man on the couch, I might as well catch up on a few recipes that I've neglected to post about. If I'm lucky, it'll distract me from the annoying voice of Annie on Little Einsteins. In general, I really like this show (and am always surprised and delighted when I'm listening to Ben Folds and Charlie announces, "That piano sounds happy"), but seriously. Annie has to be a producer's daughter or something. Her voice is nails on the chalkboard of my brain.

Last week, I made Roasted Lamb Chops with Charmoula (pg 62 of The Epicurious Cookbook). This was easy (score: 1). Blitz cumin seeds, parsley, mint (which I couldn't get my hands on), cilantro, garlic, paprika, salt, cayenne, and lemon juice in a food processor. Still running the machine, add olive oil. You're supposed to marinate the lamb in this mixture for 4-24 hours. I only marinated mine for the time it took me to prepare the rest of the meal. Still good. The recipe instructs you to place a rack on a baking sheet and roast the chops in the oven. My cooling racks are coated with something, so I wasn't about to put them in the oven. I grilled the chops on the stove instead. This seems faster and more straightforward to me, anyway.

Conclusion: I seem to love every lamb recipe I come across, and this one is no exception. Delish! 

I made Creamed Spinach from Nigella's Feast (pg 207) to accompany the lamb. Holy moly. I could have eaten the entire pot myself. With a stick of butter and a cup of heavy cream, this is way too caloric to be anything but a special occasion vegetable, but it is so, so good. It makes me laugh that Nigella says to "heat the butter -- using less if this amount frightens you." It did frighten me, Nigella. I used half a stick of butter, and didn't miss the other four tablespoons.

I've only had creamed spinach out of a can, and never liked it. This homemade version is rich and nutmeggy and cozy. I added a can of while beans to it, just for kicks, and Matt said he loved it with the beans, and didn't think he'd like it as much without the beans, for textural reasons. I could eat it either way.

Conclusion: Loved it. Dangerously delicious.

Back to Epicurious, I made Black Bean Soup with Cumin and Jalapeno (pg 220). In hopes that Charlie would taste some, I toned down the heat. Instead of using an entire hot pepper, seeds and all, I only used the flesh. I don't think including the seeds would have changed my opinion of this all that much, though. It was kind of bland. I might feel more favorably toward it if I wasn't already in love with Nigella's black bean soup from How to Eat. Nigella's is more time-consuming (though not that much more actual work), but it's also a lot more flavor.

Conclusion: Just okay.

Last night, I made Salmon Cakes (pg 25 of TEC). A few things concerned me during the process, but it all turned out ok. The salmon in my freezer had skin on it. I worried that it would be hard to cut the skin off, but it really wasn't. Then, after I was midway through cutting my second fillet into bits, I felt bones. Nooooooo! the fillets were supposed to be boneless. I felt around, picked a few out, and hoped for the best. Fortunately, I didn't find any while I was eating them.

The raw salmon is mixed with torn up bits of pita bread, mayo, an egg, coriander, cayenne, and lemon zest (though I used tangerine zest, b/c that's what I had). There's also supposed to be chives in there, but I didn't have any. Then you just make patties and cook them in a little oil for a few minutes. I worried that they'd fall apart. I worried that they wouldn't cook through. Everything worked perfectly.

Conclusion: Loved them. Crispy on the outside, soft, yet solid on the inside. Chives would make them even better. I might try them with only one pita bread instead of two. I think I'd prefer a different bread to fish ratio, assuming that messing with it doesn't impact how it sticks together. Really good, just as it is, though. It's supposed to be served with a lemon yogurt sauce, but I omitted that part b/c I'm doing WeightWatchers again. In case you care about point values of things, best I can tell, each patty is 7 points. I served it with a delicious 3 pt serving of Warm French Lentils from Barefoot Contessa's How Easy Is That? Yummy meal.

Chilis

I'd made Epicurious' Chicken Chili (pg 251 of The Epicurious Cookbook) when my in-laws were here. At the time, I remember a) being able to blitz the soup base in my food processor without any overflow, b) being surprised at how thick the chili was, and c) loving it. It reminded me of the inside of an enchilada at Don Pablo's.

I decided to make it again, in what I thought was exactly the same way, apart from the fact that this time I used pinto beans instead of white beans. The recipe actually calls for "pink beans," but I don't even know what that means. The cannellini worked better than pinto, flavor-wise. Both times, I used canned chiles in adobo sauce instead of "dried New Mexican or guajillo chiles."

I don't know what happened, but this time, when I whirred the broth, chiles, canned tomatoes, onion, garlic, cilantro, peanuts (!!), cumin, cilantro, and salt, it was too much fluid for my food processor and it leaked out all over my counter. The finished product was much soupier than it was last time.

Did I forget to add the broth the first time I made this?

I have no idea. I think I must have. I really need to try it again and figure out what the difference was, because I preferred it before.

Another problem this time was that, because my food processor was leaking, I didn't blitz the base well enough. Instead of turning into a nice, thick puree (I must have forgotten the broth before), the peanuts were too chunky. Last time, they helped thicken the soup. This time, they were annoying to chew.

Conclusion: liked it, but loved it the first time. I must determine what I did "wrong" on the first go.

Several weeks ago, I made Nigella's Cornbread-Topped Chilli Con Carne (pg 399 of Feast). I'd totally forgotten about it until I flipped by it in the book, so that should tell you something. The chili itself was okay. Not disgusting, but not good. Unmemorable. I baked the cornbread separately, in a pan, rather than dolloping it on top of the chilli and baking the whole in the oven. This recipe serves 20. I was serving 2. I had a hunch that cornbread was going to turn into a soggy, vile mess upon sitting in the fridge and reheating. Anyway, the cornbread itself was disgusting. Totally flavorless. It would have been gross whether I followed her instructions to bake it on top of the chili or not.

Conclusion: Disliked.

Oy

My in-laws have come to visit, and are staying for a month, so I doubt I'll be updating the blog much while they're here. They're off on a tour of the National Archaeological Museum here in Naples right now, so I'm stealing five minutes to knock out a quick post.

I made (Bowties) al Ragu (pg 113 of Rome), because Charlie's revived his food-related stubbornness, and I thought surely he'd eat it, as he asks for "red spaghetti" all the time. I was wrong. Wouldn't taste it. This sauce took two hours to cook, and came out tasting exactly like my Grandma's. That's not a good thing. Grandma is German. Her red sauce comes out of a can. It's fine, but hers takes a whopping three minutes to make/heat up.

Conclusion: Just okay. Absolutely not worth the time, effort, or 1/4 cup of wine that could be put to better use in my glass.

The following night, I made Spaghetti alla Carbonara (pg 98), because it's one of Charlie's go-to restaurant orders, and I wanted to try it at home before my in-laws arrived. They both have assorted fat and carb-related dietary restrictions, so I didn't want to serve it to them. Not the greatest carbonara I've ever eaten, but very good, and Charlie INHALED it, exclaiming all the while, "This spaghetti is AMAZING." This has never happened before, for anything I've cooked. I wish more food made him happy. Despite the caloric consequences, carbonara may need to show up at my table a little more often.

Conclusion: Liked it, calories be damned.

My mother in law is a fan of biscotti, so I made Tozzetti (pg 173). I'm rarely totally happy with how my biscotti turns out. Either it's the wrong texture, falls apart when I'm slicing it, the chocolate melts all over the place, etc etc. This hazelnut biscotti recipe was a pain in the ass in dough form. It was super sticky and wet, and the directions ("using a spatula, transfer the rectangles to the prepared baking sheet") indicate that it was not supposed to be. There was no transference via spatula. I basically had to glop it over with my hands and form it into a mostly-oblong shape. However, once baked the first time, they sliced perfectly, and turned out exactly the way I expect a store-bought biscotti to be.

Conclusion: Loved them.

A few from Feast: 

Know how I'm always disappointed by "fast" Indian recipes by non-Indian people? Nigella's Keema (pg 234) is a wonderful, quick version of the minced meat and peas that I like to make when I have two hours. It's not as flavorful as Jaffrey's version, but it's got lots of spice and lots of flavor, and takes a third of the time. I can now eat Indian on a weeknight. Thank you, Nigella.

Conclusion: Loved it.

The Quadruple Chocolate Loaf Cake (pg 272) is moist and rich and delicious. This is one of my favorite things I've baked in a long time. My one complaint is that the recipe says to line the loaf pan with plastic wrap. Nigella puts your worries to rest, saying, "Don't panic, it won't melt." Lies, I tell you! Lies! It DID melt. It disappeared into my cake, so I cut thickly around the sides and bottom of the cake. According to the FAQ on her website, she has changed this instruction to line with buttered foil. Didn't help me last time, but it will help me next time.

I had to serve this to company. Good thing it tasted good.

Conclusion: Loved it.

Slime Soup (pg 350) is a nice, easy, more-filling (it's blitzed with mozzarella) pea soup made from frozen peas. It's from the Halloween section, thus the title. I served this to my in-laws, without sharing the name with them, and they liked it.

Conclusion: liked it.

Clearing the Slate

I've accrued a backlog of recipes from Rome that I've cooked, but haven't posted about. None were exceptional, so I'm just going to blast 'em out.

Conchiglie alla Caprese (pg 105) takes all the delicious elements of a caprese salad, adds capers, olives, and anchovies, then dilutes the whole thing with pasta. The best part of a caprese salad is the flavor union of mozzarella, basil, and tomato. It may not be impossible to get all three of those things in one forkful once pasta is thrown into the mix, but it doesn't happen organically.

Conclusion: Just okay. Bland. I bought the cute little trulli house-shaped pasta during my Columbus Day trip to Alberobello, which you can read about here.

Insalata Rossa (pg 151): snoozefest. Tomatoes, carrots, green onions, basil, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil do not come together as more than its individual pieces.

Conclusion: Just okay.

Pollo alla Romana con i Peperoni (pg 144), or Chicken with Tomatoes and Sweet Peppers, is the standout. The drumsticks didn't take on much flavor, so they were just normal drumsticks, but the sauce and the peppers were out of this world. I could have eaten a giant bowl of rice drowned in sauce (crisped prosciutto, a glug of white wine, tomatoes, oregano, with the soft peppers added in at the end), and been perfectly happy. No chicken necessary

Conclusion: Really liked the sauce and peppers.

I saw some parsnips (a rarity) at the Commissary last week, so I snagged them, without a plan. Feast has a recipe for Maple-Roast Parsnips (pg 25). Holy mother of God. These things are candy. Nigella says in her intro that she used to use honey and has changed it to maple syrup because it's "sweetness (is) less cloying." I can't even imagine how sweet the honey ones must have been, because I could barely make myself eat these. I am sure Charlie would have liked them, but he refused to put one in his mouth. I gave up after an hour and a half. He informed me he wanted to go to bed hungry, and so that is what he did. Grrrr.

Conclusion: Disliked. If Charlie had eaten them, I'd make them again in the future, but since he didn't, I won't. Too sweet.

Worth Shredding a Cabbage For

My brain works pretty slowly sometimes. Feast includes a bunch of recipes for ways to use up leftover turkey. I always hover over these recipes, and then move on, as leftover turkey is not something I generally have around the house (and frankly, I can't get enough stuffing-turkey-cranberry sauce-sweet potato sandwiches, so it's unlikely I'd ever need to turn to this section for its intended purpose.)

The last time I flipped through the book, the thought finally came to me that, oh yeah, I could just use a rotisserie chicken.

Took me long enough to figure that one out.

Because it would use up the head of red cabbage I had in my fridge, as well as some old (and mostly gone-bad) radishes, and the last of my Tropean red onions, I immediately settled upon Red Seasonal Salad (pg 59).

Shredding cabbage is the hardest part of this recipe. It's one of the tasks that I hate most in this world. I threw many a teenaged hissy fit when my mom would tell me to shred a cabbage for cole slaw. I hate cole slaw. It felt like punishment to stand over a bowl with a vegetable peeler, paring that big honkin' cabbage down. That said, if one must eat shredded cabbage, I agree with my mother that it should be shredded with a vegetable peeler. No one wants to chew on thick shreds of cabbage. The only way to get them to a nice, graceful thickness is to do it by hand.

Perhaps it's because I'm totally deprived of Asian food, but I loved this recipe. Red onion, red chilis, and garlic take a bath in rice vinegar, fish sauce, lime juice, oil, and sugar for a bit. Add shredded chicken, let it sit some more. Add the cabbage, then radishes and cilantro. Boom.

Because I didn't think my bedroom would be stinky enough after this meal, I also added a can of white beans.

Perfection.

For the record, Matt wasn't nearly as impressed by this as I was, so it could well be that my addiction to crunchy things, and the fact that I haven't eaten fish sauce in a long time prompted my undying love for this dish.

Conclusion: Loved it.

Also, several weeks ago, I made Ritzy Chicken Nuggets (pg 238), from the "Kiddie Feast" section. It's chicken breadcrumbed with crushed Ritz crackers. It's exactly what you would expect: aka, pretty tasty. My one complaint is that the instructions say to take the chicken from a buttermilk bath, shake off the excess, and put them in the Ritz crackers. They didn't stick to the chicken well, once in the pan. I much prefer my standard flour-->egg-->bread crumb method. The buttermilk DID make the chicken nice and juicy, though.

Charlie loves breadcrumbed chicken. It's the only way I can get him to eat chicken. He ate this, too, but didn't seem any more enthusiastic than normal, so I think I'll stick with my usual recipe, because I prefer it.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Salt Can Be Good or Bad

I was so intrigued by the weirdness of Vodka-Marinated Steak (pg 212 of Feast), that I had to make it. The fact that it's a simple recipe didn't hurt. I used a london broil, which cooked nicely in the timeline Nigella specifies. The steak is supposed to marinate for a few days in vodka, salt, peppercorns, parsley, thyme, garlic, and oil. I only did it for a few hours. Sear both sides, then cook on low heat, covered, for 3 minutes per side. Let it sit in foil for 15 minutes. My 15 minutes turned into 45, because I was waiting for Matt to get home from work, so it was on the cool side by the time we ate it. Still good. While the steak rests, use the marinade and some beef stock to deglaze the pan. Add steak drippings that have collected, whisk in some butter, and serve.

The steak turned out to be nicely salted. There wasn't a lot of other flavor, but that's  not really a complaint. It was the exact right amount of saltiness to make the beef delicious. It was tender and pinker than I expected it to be after such a long sit.

Conclusion: Liked it. Easiest cooking, for the biggest reward, that I've done in a while. I'd like to allow this to marinate for the recommended three days and see what impact that has, because Nigella says it "makes a really big difference."

I think my breadcrumb to tomato ratio is off.

I realized, pretty late in the game yesterday, that I had no vegetable planned for dinner, and no vegetables in the house, apart from our last crop of tomatoes of the season. I flipped to Meatless' index, and landed on Tomatoes Provencal (pg 328), because it was easy, with basic ingredients. All you do is slice tomatoes, overlap them in a baking vessel, then sprinkle a breadcrumb/parmigiano reggiano/thyme/salt/oil mixture on top, then bake.

This smelled unbelievable while it was in the oven. It tasted good, but I'd added too much salt. I hate when recipes don't specify an amount of salt. I always add more than I should.

Conclusion: Liked it. It's a good "ack! I forgot a veggie!" dish to keep in mind. If you have tomatoes, you probably have everything else you need, too.

Feast: Cranberry and White Chocolate Cookies

One very important lesson I've learned by traveling Europe with my three year old is that it is always a good idea to bake something easily transportable and fairly substantial for the road. Hungry, and there's nowhere to stop the car? Have an oatmeal cookie (perennial favorite). It's 8 pm, and you just got off a plane and checked into your apartment rental? I just happen to have a loaf of banana bread handy. Eat it and go to bed, child. Toddler needs breakfast before you're showered and ready? Refer back to the banana bread.

We drove to the Italian beach town of Tropea for Labor Day. (You can read about the trip here). Even though I don't think you can do better than the Vanishing Oatmeal Cookies recipe off of the Quaker Oats box, I baked Cranberry and White Chocolate Cookies (pg 82 of Feast) instead. I expected them to taste like cinnamon, with an oatey texture, because that's what I'm used to with oatmeal cookies. Then I noticed that cinnamon wasn't an ingredient. I did not anticipate that swapping craisins for raisins, and adding white chocolate chips and pecans would totally change this cookie.

The oat ratio must be different from the Quaker Oats recipe, because I probably would not have guessed they were in there. They didn't attract attention, but did make the cookies filling and satisfying.

I'm guessing the white chocolate is to thank for this, but the bottoms of the cookies almost seem caramelized.

Another unexpected difference is that, no matter how lightly I baked them, they crisped up as they cooled. In a good way. Yum.

Conclusion: Loved them. I love every cookie, so that's not too remarkable, but I will, without a doubt, make these again. We planned to share with our friends, who were staying at the same place as us, but we kind of ate them all ourselves. They were gone before I ever thought to take a pic. Woops.

Because I Feel Like It

September is right around the corner, bringing with it the promise of Fall and cool temps and exhausting holiday fun. I'll likely moan about cooking/baking overload by mid-December (though I won't be done until after my son's birthday party in January), but for the moment, I'm excited about the whole season. Charlie is almost 4 (!!!), and I think this will be the year he'll finally be involved in Halloween and Santa and helping me bake cookies, etc. Yeee!

Anyway. I've made no secret that I love Nigella. I'm adding a long-term project to my roster. Feast: Food to Celebrate Life provides recipes for official and unofficial holidays throughout the year, and for that reason, lends itself as a project for a longer period of time.

She makes me grin.

Nigella, I can't stay away.

I am SO making hot cross buns this Easter.

Wrapping Up and (Gulp) Up Next...

I'm cutting Nigella a little short. I don't feel too badly about this. While I've only covered 13 recipes for the blog, when I include those that I cooked before re-starting the blog, my total comes to 32. That seems like a sufficient exploration to decide that yes, I am most definitely keeping Nigella Kitchen.  I hit some duds prior to cooking for the blog, but by and large, most of what I made while focusing on the book was easy, satisfying, and I'd make it again. There are lots and LOTS of tempting desserts in this cookbook that I haven't touched. I look forward to trying them in the future. As far as I can tell from past baking, Nigella knows her sweets. I'm not too concerned about the success of her dessert recipes.

The calendar turned to March, and I've launched into full-on panic-mode. See, my brother is getting married in July. I'm a bridesmaid. I sent my future sister-in-law my measurements back in September, when I was a stress-ball whirling dervish of activity who had no time to eat and was running all over base while living in the hotel there. During those two months we lived on base, I lost 9 pounds without even trying.

Let's just say I've gained some back.

Yeah. "Some." That's a nice, vague description.

I've actually just hit the number that consistently in my adult life has made me put on the breaks, rock in a fetal position in a corner for a while, then decide that something must be done.

Something must be done. Now, while I still have enough time to fit into that bridesmaid dress.

Now. I'm not pursuing a particular diet at this time. I've established some general guidelines for eating habits that I know make a difference for me (drink 64 oz water a day, eat lots of fruit and veg, baking is forbidden, exercise). Without actually doing Weight Watchers, which I've never been very good at, as I hate weighing each piece of food, hate eating easily-trackable processed foods, and hate figuring out points of non-WW recipes, I plan to cook from the Weight Watchers New Complete Cookbook, which I bought a few years ago when I was on the diet.

Be brave.

I will not track points. The recipes, in general, are healthier than what I normally cook, so I'm hoping the sheer fact of cooking them instead of a bacon coated meatloaf will help me in my plight.

There are a few things that WW, and this cookbook, push, which I just can't get behind. I will not use butter substitute (like Promise butter spread), egg substitute, powdered egg, fat free half and half,  or any other chemically-altered/too-far-removed-from-its-native-form product. As far as cheese goes, I'd rather use less of the full-fat version than more of a tasteless fat free version.

I also tend to triple the spices required in any given recipe. Spices don't add calories, do they?

Really, I want to be cooking from Ottolenghi's Jerusalem. That book is gorgeous. Plus, my friend just went to Morocco and brought me back a bunch of spices that I need. Squeeeeeal! Honestly, most of the recipes look pretty well-rounded, veg-rich, and healthy. It'll be my reward follow-up book for giving the Weight Watchers cookbook a chance.

I'm not expecting a whole lot from the WW recipes. Maybe I'll be surprised? Wouldn't that be nice. PLEASE, if you have this book and have found a good recipe or two, I beg that you direct me to them.

Yick

I had misgivings about Nigella's Speedy Seafood Supper (pg 193 of Nigella Kitchen) from the outset, based upon the fact that I don't really trust frozen seafood. Especially shellfish. There are certain things in the world that just seem to demand they be eaten fresh. Mussels are one of them.

Still, every supermarket around here prominently displays packets of frozen seafood. It's usually a mix of calamari, mussels, and little shrimp. I figured I'd give it a shot, rather than potentially miss out on some easy way to keep seafood on hand.

Should have gone with my gut. I don't know that there was necessarily anything wrong with the seafood. I'm very careful when I cook fresh mussels, though, and if the shell is cracked or open and won't close when tapped before it gets cooked, I toss it without question. If the shell refuses to open after all of its buddies have given up, I toss it without question. The fact that the mussels in this frozen mix were already split in half meant that I couldn't check for these telltale warnings.

I made too much pasta. Woops.

The sauce for this seafood is quite nice. It's a lightly-flavored mix of saffron, tomato, garlic, scallions, tarragon, and white wine. But then you dump the still-frozen seafood in and only cook it for 3-4 minutes. The shrimp hadn't turned pink yet in that time, so I let it go longer. A crustacean who was in the pack (I forget what they're called. It looks like a miniature combo of a shrimp and a lobster) didn't change color at all by the time the shrimp looked done. I know when I had one of these guys in my pasta at a restaurant, it was definitely not a pale blue color. I let the sauce simmer a little longer. I don't know how you tell when mussels are done, if they aren't capable of opening their shell.

I just couldn't get past my distrust for the seafood. The mussels looked weird. I can't explain it.

Matt thought his first bite tasted nasty, but liked the rest of it.

We didn't get sick, so that leads me to believe that the seafood was fine and I'm a drama-queen. I don't think I need frozen seafood in my life, though. Matt asked me why a person would use frozen seafood when they have access to fresh. Before I started to eat, I told him that it's all about being able to throw together a nice dinner in no time, without having to stop at the store. After eating, I have to agree with him. I'll save seafood for nights when I have time to deal with the fresh stuff.

Conclusion: Dislike. The sauce would be good for fresh seafood, though.

Want Some Feathers With Your Chicken?

The execution of My Mother's Praised Chicken (pg 223 of Nigella Kitchen) turned out to be fraught with drama. Okay, maybe not real drama, but considering that all I expected to do was boil a chicken with some vegetables, Italy threw me a curveball that I did not see coming.

Exhibit A:

Oh. My. God.

I unwrapped my chicken, and almost dropped it on the floor when I saw feathers and scaley ankles. Not to mention the fact that this poor bird looks like it was decapitated by an angry serial killer. I realized (two minutes later) that I was holding my breath and staring at the chicken from across the room. Common sense kicked in, I told myself to stop being an idiot, and started pulling feathers out, chanting all the while, "This chicken was a chicken. Chickens have feathers. This chicken was a chicken. Chickens have scaly feet." Thankfully, the feathers came out without too much trouble (except the ones on the wingtips. I just left them there, for lack of a better idea.)

One thing I noticed about the chickens in the supermarket here, is that the styrofoam tray is totally dry. There's no bloody water trapped in with the chicken. Based on absolutely no research into the matter, I've decided to settle on the explanation for this that I like best--that Italian chickens are not soaked in a vile vat of fetid water, the way American chickens are. (For me, this was the single most disturbing detail of Jonathan Safran Foer's interesting book Eating Animals. I can't buy poultry at home now without checking the package to see what percentage of the weight is from "water" absorption. I just threw up in my mouth.)

Sorry. All that has nothing to do with Nigella's recipe. Really, all you do is break the breastbone of the chicken, brown it, then boil it with some white wine, leeks, carrots, celery, and herbs. For a long time. It boils for 1.5 hours, then sits in the pot, off the heat, for another half hour. That's a long time for a carrot to boil.

The chicken was fine. The meat was tender and the broth tasted good on rice. The vegetables were mush. We ate them, but I'd prefer roasting a chicken and veg any day, for both the flavor it produces, and the time it saves.

Conclusion: Just okay. I won't make this again.

A Quicky

Sorry I've been slow to post. A little old long-weekend trip to Barcelona interrupted the flow of things. I love Barcelona. That is all.

The day after Nigella's wonderful, gut-busting meatloaf, I figured that a lighter meal was in order. Vietnamese Pork Noodle Soup (pg 82 of Nigella Kitchen) caught my eye. I wasn't expecting greatness, but it seemed like a good way to use up some leftover roast beef that I had in the fridge (technically, the recipe calls for raw, thin-sliced pork, but I think Nigella would approve.) Much to my surprise, I was able to find bok choy at the Commissary. I used spaghetti instead of ramen noodles. In the end, the soup could have used a splash of hot sauce, but otherwise, it was pretty tasty, and a good way to breathe new life into that roast beef.

Conclusion: liked it, though I don't know that I'd go out of my way to make it if I didn't have leftovers on hand.

Arugula and Lemon Couscous (pg 90) accompanied our Valentine's Day steak. This tasted fine. Nothing special. It was very difficult to eat, though. Tiny couscous pebbles are not a complementary shape to long, unwieldy leaves of arugula.

Conclusion: Disliked, not because of the flavor, but because it was super annoying to eat.

I kept feeling like something was amiss with my Chicken with Greek Herb Sauce (pg 102). The photo in the book shows chicken that has clearly been seasoned with dark spices--paprika or something. The recipe does not instruct you to season with anything other than salt and pepper. Matt came home from the store with boneless thighs instead of bone-in, so instead of roasting the chicken, I grilled it, which I think I prefer anyway. The herb sauce was a nice mixture of yogurt with scallions, green chile, garlic, cucumber, cilantro, and mint.

Conclusion: Liked it. Easy.

In Ascending Order of Greatness

It's been drizzly and cold for the past week. Not blizzard-cold, but damp and stormy, in the 40-50 degree range. Fortunately, Nigella Kitchen is packed with comfort food recipes that sound just right on a blustery day. I assume this has to do with Nigella's ingrained Englishness, because it's certainly not something that can be said for every cookbook out there.

I've covered quite a few recipes in the past week, so I'll start with the bad news, and work my way up to the glory that was last night's dinner.

Italian Tomato and Pasta Soup (pg 470-471) is a simple enough recipe. All you do is cook sauteed onion and "6 large, ripe, fabulous tomatoes" (peeled and chopped) in water, salt, pepper, and sugar for 40 minutes. Puree. Boil again. Cook pasta in the soup.

"Fabulous tomatoes" is the most important part of this recipe. My tomatoes were not fabulous. They were average. I'll give the recipe the benefit of the doubt that this was the cause of the soup's downfall. This was vile. It tasted like slightly-sweet water. I didn't even serve this. I didn't bother adding (ie, wasting) the pasta after I tasted it. It was not salvageable. We ate leftovers for dinner.

That is one sad soup.

Conclusion: Hated it, but with the disclaimer that perfectly ripe tomatoes may make a huge difference. I doubt I'll try it again in peak season, though.

I've never been a big gnocchi fan. It's entirely possible that I've never had "good" gnocchi, but every time I have had it, it's just a plate of heavy dumpling bombs that make my stomach hurt. Every supermarket here has packs of nice looking gnocchi in the refrigerator, though, so I thought I'd give Nigella's Rapid Roastini (pg 68) a try. No boiling involved. All you do here is fry the gnocchi in oil for four minutes per side. Mine browned up in a lot less time than that. If I left them for four minutes per side, they'd have burned. I don't recommend taking your eyes off of them. I kept rolling them around so all the sides browned nicely.

Nigella says that these taste like roasted potatoes. That's not true. They are tasty, though. I couldn't eat very many, because, like all gnocchi dishes, they felt too heavy in my tum. Matt finished mine.

Conclusion: Liked them. A nice, easy side dish that I can see myself making again, just because it takes so little effort. I'm sure Charlie would have liked them if he'd been willing to try them. It is so frustrating to have a kid who won't even try new food. I wouldn't care if he tasted it and didn't like it. It drives me crazy that he won't even put it in his mouth, though. I had no idea a child could survive on nothing but English Muffins with cream cheese, and fruit. Doesn't that get boring?? Ugh.

Irish Oaten Rolls (pg 87) are quick little soda breads made out of whole wheat flour and oats. Guinness and honey give the rolls a sweet backnote, but the main flavor is of the whole wheat. The crumb is moist and delicate (I wish my butter was softer, because it ripped up my roll). These are a really nice vessel for a smear of butter and a glob of marmalade.

Nom nom nom

Conclusion: Liked them. Charlie kept singing about cookies while I was taking them out of the oven, so he was mighty disappointed when he bit into his roll. The look on his face was priceless.

How have I lived 32 years without ever putting cheddar cheese in my mashed potatoes? Nigella's method for making mashed potatoes strikes me as overly complicated. Do people really boil whole potatoes for 40 minutes?? I cut those babies up and cooked them in half the time. I just made the potatoes as I normally do, then mixed in the cheddar cheese.

Conclusion: Cheddar Mashed Potatoes (pg 407) are genius. Love them. Am certain Charlie would have liked them if he were open to tasting it. I smeared some on his tongue while he was trying to avoid the fork, and he promptly licked my shoulder to get it off. I can't win. He better get used to them, though, because I'm going to be making these every day for the rest of his life.

We had spinach, too, lest you think I never eat a vegetable

And now, the coup de grace. Ed's Mother's Meatloaf (pg 458). I wish my mother cooked like Ed's mother. My mom's meatloaf was ground beef, mixed with raw onions, slathered with tomato sauce, and baked until gray and dry. Gross.

Matt's mom makes a good meatloaf, involving multiple types of ground meat, and covered in bacon. Even I like it. It's Matt's favorite thing that his mom cooks, and it's what he asks for when we go back for visits.

Matt took one bite of Nigella's recipe and announced, "This destroys my mom's meatloaf." 

I wasn't sure it was going to turn out so great as I was putting it together. For one thing, There are hard boiled eggs in the center. Huh? That's weird. Matt says it's not that weird--that German's are always sticking hard boiled eggs into assorted loafed meat recipes. After eating it, I have to agree that it works. It's weird, but it works.

The only other flavoring agents are onions and worcestershire sauce. This worried me, because it struck a little too close to home, regarding my own mother's "recipe." The difference is that these onions are cooked until soft and sweet for 25 minutes in a heap of butter before being mixed with the meat. The loaf is covered in bacon, which crisped nicely in the oven, and the bottom of the loaf was caramelized in salty bacony greasy goodness.

Don't make this if you're on a diet.

Do make this if you want a delicious meatloaf.

Me: I think the slow-cooked onions are what make this so good.
Matt: I think the everything about it is what makes it so good.

He then asked me if I can cook this regularly. I'm going to need to start eating more salads.

Conclusion: Loved it so much.

Don't I Look Like a Well-Balanced Eater?

According to Nigella, "apples long past their prime make for magnificent muffins." Good to know. I made her Apple and Cinnamon Muffins (pg 128-29 of Nigella Kitchen) with two crisp apples, but I regularly have a few sitting around that have gone soft, so now I know they can be salvaged and transformed into muffins.

This recipe is forgiving, which is a blessed relief to me after yet another Baking with Julia disappointment. I didn't realize until I'd already mixed most of the ingredients together that I only had one egg, rather than the required two. I crossed my fingers and hoped that the omission wouldn't make much difference. It didn't. Phew! These muffins poofed nicely, with a moist, light crumb. Sweetened by honey and brown sugar, they're just sweet enough without overdoing it, and the inclusion of chopped almonds in the batter makes them feel substantial. One muffin for breakfast was enough to hold me until lunch.

With the fruit and nuts and non-white-sugar sweeteners, I don't feel guilty, like I'm feeding Charlie cake for breakfast. 

Conclusion: Loved them, and Charlie approved!

Peanut Butter Hummus was fine. Nothing spectacular. Apparently, Nigella prefers the flavor that peanut butter lends better than tahini. I prefer tahini. This tasted saltier than I would like. I read a blog post by The Tipsy Baker the other day in which she realized that the reason one of the bread recipes in her book (Make the Bread, Buy the Butter) came out too salty for one of her readers was because the reader used Morton's salt, while Tipsy used a different brand. I had no idea that different brands made a difference. Did you? Perhaps this explains my salty hummus. I've always bought Morton's out of habit. It may be time to try a new brand.

They have purple carrots in the local supermarket here! Hee hee!

Conclusion: Just okay. Most supermarket brands taste better to me than this did. It reminded me that I wanted to retry the hummus recipe from Around My French Table now that I have my proper food processor back.

What Would Bob Marley Think?

I'm not an aficionado of Caribbean food, but I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that Nigella's recipe for Rice and Peas (pg 344-5 of Nigella Kitchen) is not altogether authentic, and errs on the side of being bland. I added an extra onion and two extra cloves of garlic, swapped the red chile for a jalapeno pepper because that's what I found at the store, and added shredded chicken to the pot. Maybe if there were less rice involved (the recipe calls for 2 cups), the flavors would be more pronounced. Or maybe she keeps it bland because in the book, she pairs it with Jerk Chicken. In hopes that Charlie would eat some, I opted against the Jerk Chicken. It's entirely possible that the creamy blandness here is designed to offset the chicken's spice.

That may sound like a bashing of the recipe, but I must say that the blandness didn't really bother me. In fact, I found my steaming bowl of coconut milk-flavored carbohydrates to be cozy and warm, like a good bowl of oatmeal can be. Matt, however, dumped what looked like a whole lot of salt and pepper into his.

Hard to tell if Charlie liked this or not. He ate a few spoonfuls of rice and beans, and then I got cocky and tried to slip a piece of chicken in. Mistake. He spit out the whole mouthful and refused to try any more. Sigh.

Conclusion: Liked it. As with many of Nigella's recipe, it can be pulled together from a well-stocked pantry. I'll be making this one again. I think I'll try to work a vegetable into it, too. Unfortunately, a girl can not live on white food alone.

Wrapping Up How to Eat, and Up Next

 Nigella Lawson's How to Eat perfectly demonstrates why I shouldn't allow the design of a cookbook to factor into my expectations of the book's quality. I do maintain that this book is not laid out in a user-friendly fashion, and there is way too much chit-chat for my taste. I don't mind intros to recipes, and I don't mind essay-type writing at the start of chapters, but this book has big chunks of chatter in between the recipes. It's distracting, and hard to find what you're looking for. There are recipes, like the Exceptional Salmon that we loved so much, that don't appear in the contents, since it's in with the chatter instead of broken apart as a separate recipe. In the paperback version, at least, there are no pictures.

HOWEVER, nearly every recipe I tried was good, if not great. I was worried that Nigella was just an English Rachael Ray, with her emphasis on quick cooking. She's not. Nigella's recipes never feel cluttered. She uses fine ingredients and cooks them simply, to maximize their flavor.

I'm not bored with this book after a month, and there are lots of recipes that I still want to try. There's a treacle tart with my name written all over it. Trying to cut back on the desserts, so I didn't get around to making it this month, but I will. Oh, I will.

My only other minor complaint is that there are a lot of recipes for game and wild fowl that I just don't have access to. If you don't have access to them either, this may not be the book to start with. I'm trying desperately to control the urge to order all of her books. Santa brought me Kitchen for Christmas, and I can't wait to jump into it. Later.

For now, I'm very excited to start my next book. I've bitched and moaned often enough here about Corpus Christi's nonexistent Indian food offerings, that I'm guessing you've figured out that I really like Indian food, but am intimidated to cook it. Well, it's time to conquer that mountain, because from what I understand, Naples doesn't have a whole lot to offer in terms of non-Italian food. If I want Indian food without having to drive a few hours to get it in the next few years, I'm going to have to make it myself. For the next month, I'll be cooking from Madhur Jaffrey's Indian Cooking. 

Doesn't she have kind eyes? I trust those eyes, and the recommendation of my friend Brigit, who steered me toward this book. I bought myself another coffee grinder for spices and a mini food processor, since a number of her recipes involve small amounts of onion puree. I stopped at the organic store yesterday and picked up whole spices and dry beans. I'm ready. Now can someone tell me how to quarter a nutmeg?? Blood shall be spilled this night! Nah, I'm better off quadrupling her garam masala recipe, even though she says to just make a little at a time.

Fingers crossed that I'm not totally sick of Indian food by the end of the month. The recipes look pretty diverse, so I think I'll be okay.