Holy Salt-Bags, Batman!

Woah. Jerusalem and I are having some problems. Tonight, I made Lemony Leek Meatballs (pg 44, 9 points, I think, though nothing about the recipe seemed right, so I make no promises.)

I couldn't help but feel, all the way through, that something was wrong. First of all, I was a little short on leeks. The recipe calls for 6. I had about 4. When the steamed, pulsed leeks were mixed together with ground beef, a cup of breadcrumbs, and eggs, this was still a big bowl of meat, given that it was only meant to make eight 2 3/4 by 3/4 inch flat patties. I don't understand. Mine were giant hamburger size, and would have been even bigger if I'd used the correct number of leeks.

As I added 1 1/4 teaspoons of salt, I thought, "Hmm. That looks like a lot," but I forged ahead and followed instructions.

Once the patties are browned on both sides, you add chicken broth and lemon juice and simmer it for half an hour. Fortunately, I tasted a patty at this point, because the instructions say to add another half teaspoon of salt to the broth. I couldn't see why I would possibly want these patties any saltier than they already were, so I omitted that round of salt.

Again, the instructions seemed off. I needed to use more stock than specified to "almost, but not quite cover the patties."

After 30 minutes of gentle simmering, covered, you're supposed to remove the lid and cook for a few more minutes until almost all the liquid has evaporated. There was nearly as much liquid in the pan as I started with, and I didn't feel like boiling away nearly 2 cups of stock, so I just plucked the patties out.

I meant to put this on top of a salad, but my lettuce was all moldy in its bag. Yuck.

The recipe intro says "what makes these fritters so special is how well the flavor of the leeks holds its own against the meat, while the latter is more in the background..The result is featherlight texture and a sharp lemony flavor."

Um. Okay. I didn't get any of that. I definitely found the beef to dominate the leeks. All the leeks seemed to contribute was a mushy, though not unpleasant, texture. There was no lemon flavor, much less a sharp one. Perhaps if I'd boiled away all that broth, some lemon flavor would have materialized. I don't know. What I expected from this dish did not in any way match the turnout. Definitely wish there was a photo of what these patties were supposed to look like.

My tongue is salt-swollen after eating 1 of 8 patties. What's left after Matt eats will likely dawdle in my fridge, then get tossed.

Conclusion: Like the idea, and maybe it would be good with major tweaking, but dislike how this turned out. Bummer. I will not be making these again.

Uneven Start

Remember when I said I wasn't going to "do" Weight Watchers? Nix that. haha. I signed up for the online plan. We'll see how it goes. I don't intend to talk about it much. However, I do think it's interesting (though annoyingly time-consuming) to figure out the points of real-world recipes that I want to be cooking. Should anyone care, I'll mention the point value of what I'm cooking, best I can figure it out, just in case it would spare someone else the aggravation of "the Recipe Builder."

I received another gift-pile of fava from my landlord's uncle last week. Instead of once again making Marcella Hazan's crazy-delicious Roman Style fava been recipe, I decided to try Fava Bean Kuku (pg 39 of Jerusalem. Wasn't adhering to WW yet, so don't have points for you.) I was undeterred by the weirdness of the recipe, but perhaps I should have been. It's basically a frittata with fava beans, sugar, dried cherries (substituted for barberries, per the instructions), onion, garlic, saffron, and fresh mint. It's also supposed to have a full cup of dill, but I can't find dill here. I bought a seed packet and will try to grow my own, but that didn't help me now. I used some dried dill, instead.

Get out of my eggs, cherries.

This thing was really weird and unpleasant. For starters, it was very salty. The second major problem has to do with instructions. The chopped dried cherries, being the heaviest item in the bowl, sank to the bottom and dumped into the pre-heated pan unevenly. I didn't notice this problem as it happened, but I can't imagine I'm the first person it happened for. A quick instruction to stir the mixture one in the pan would have helped matters. As it was, my first slice of kuku had no cherries. My second had a thick layer that was so discordant with the other flavors that I have a visceral revulsion to the memory of it.

Conclusion: Disliked. The first, cherry-less slice wasn't terrible, but I can't get past how awful my second slice was.

This initiation into Jerusalem left me rattled. Would I be the only person who doesn't love this book?

Never fear.

Baby Spinach Salad with Dates and Almonds (pg 30, 9 WW points) is one of the best things I've ever eaten, and sumac is my new favorite spice. How have I never come across it before? Why did my friend have to go all the way to Morocco to secure some for me? It smells like it belongs in the cinnamon/nutmeg/clove family, but the flavor packs some heat. Yum. I kinda want to throw some in gingerbread, just to see what happens.

So, the salad was easy enough. Soak dates and red onion in white wine vinegar. Toast torn up pita and chopped almonds in butter and oil, then mix with sumac, chile flakes, and salt. Mix the whole lot with spinach, lemon juice, and salt. I also added a shredded turkey cutlet.

Mmmm. I want more RIGHT NOW.

This is a diet worth starving all day for. (Sorry. I'm a dramatic dieter.)

Matt's response after one bite: "That was one amazing mouthful of food. I don't think I've ever said that about a salad before." I must agree.

Conclusion: Loved it. I want to hug this salad. Spicy, sweet, chewy, and crunchy. This one needs to become a regular. Until I run out of sumac, that is.

To Keep Life Interesting...

I'm adding Jerusalem to the mix. I want to keep cooking from the WW book, for weight loss purposes, but am afraid I'll burn out if it's the only book I'm using.

A friend who recently visited Morroco brought me some spices that I needed in order to cook from this book. Through their bags, they're making my entire kitchen smell exotic and irresistible. I want in.  Now. Look at these beauties...

I don't even know what to say about Jerusalem, besides that I hope the recipes live up to their gorgeous presentation. I have to say, much of the internet hype that I can find about it comes from people who rave about the photography, stories, etc, but don't seem to have actually tried any of the recipes besides the hummus. Let's see, shall we?

Distracted

I have two not-very-exciting recipes to report on.

Chicken and Black Bean Chili (pg 185) was not much different then the other chili recipe I cooked from the WW New Complete Cookbook. Especially because I had to sub ground beef for the ground chicken. Ground poultry doesn't seem to be available at the local supermarkets or commissary. I'm guessing I could ask a butcher to grind chicken, but that sounds like a lot of work for what would just end up being unremarkable old ground chicken. So I made this chili with beef.

Not a lot to say about it. It was fine. I think I prefer kidney beans in my chili. The black beans are so small that they blend into the background. The bean to tomato to beef ratio was unsatisfying.

Conclusion: Okay. Same spices and tomato base as the other chili. Really, I just made this because I had all the ingredients on-hand.

Last night, I made Pasta with Broccoli and Goat Cheese (pg 245), which is the recipe pictured on the book cover. You know what annoys me? When pictures in cookbooks show ingredients that aren't in the recipe. Unless those are supposed to be giant honkin' strips of lemon zest, the picture in the book clearly shows strips of yellow pepper in the pasta. Not that it actually matters, but peppers are not part of the recipe. It feels like inaccurate advertising.

Anyway. This dish came together really easily. I like that the broccoli is sauteed in oil, rather than boiled. It produced some brown, nutty-tasting edges. However, five minutes was not nearly enough time to cook three cups of broccoli until tender without burning the garlic. Maybe I didn't cut my florets small enough, but after the five minutes, I tossed a bit of water into the pan and let them finish cooking that way. Not a big problem, but it wasn't working as-written. Once the broccoli finishes cooking, you toss it and the pasta together with salt, lemon zest, red pepper flakes, reserved pasta water, and goat cheese. The goat cheese melts and coats the pasta.

One complaint. I attempted to measure out the serving according to the 1.5 cups stipulated in the book. Difficult to do. The pasta stuck together because of the goat cheese, and the broccoli hadn't mixed in well and was all on the bottom of the bowl, so my 1 cup was mostly a giant, tangled glob of pasta. Instead of adding another half cup, I picked a heap of broccoli out of the bowl and piled it on top. I suspect this would impact someone's points.


Conclusion: Liked it, though it quickly turned into a solid block. Charlie ate most of his pasta. I'd make this again.

FFwD: Ispahan Loaf Cake

2009. Matt was deployed, and I was five months pregnant. To give myself something to look forward to, and to keep myself from going stir-crazy, my friend, Hilary, and I planned a trip to Paris. In retrospect, perhaps not the greatest destination for a woman who is medically prohibited from eating soft or unpasteurized cheese or drinking wine. As such, my focus turned to chocolates and sweets. I'd literally mapped out where the closest treat was to any given attraction, and dragged us into neighborhoods that we had no other interest in, just to buy chocolate. Even Hil, a sweet-tooth in her own right, was losing patience with the fervor of my mission by the end of our trip.
Favorite chocolatier: Patrick Rogers.
Favorite hot chocolate: Laduree.
Favorite non-chocolate dessert: This thing, from Pierre Herme:

I didn't know that I loved it and needed to photograph it until I'd already shoved my face in it, thus the reason it looks like it was eaten by rats. Dorie's description of this dessert sounds much more appetizing than my picture: "two disks of rose-colored almond-meringue cookies sandwiching a rose-flavored cream studded with lychees and raspberries."

I don't remember lychees, but they might have been in there. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure this is the dessert she's talking about.

In a long line of amazing sweets, this thing blew my pregnant mind.

This week's French Fridays with Dorie recipe of Ispahan Loaf was inspired by the very same dessert that I loved so much in Paris, and without a second thought, I spent the $50 to buy and ship the multi-sourced ingredients to Italy (rose extract, rose syrup, and almond flour, which, it turns out, the Commissary does carry, but I'd already ordered it by the time I spotted it).

When I saw the enormous bottle of rose syrup that arrived, all I could think was that this better be one amazing loaf cake, because I am never going to make a dent in these ingredients in the 2.5 years that I have left to me before I have to move again.

Doesn't look like a $50 cake.

 The cake came together without too much trouble, and looked plain and unassuming when complete. I expected the rows of raspberries to melt together more, but instead, they seemed to disappear while baking. They're pretty spread out in the end product. Weird. I could have used more raspberry, and a bit more rose flavor. Perhaps my expectations were too high, based off of the level of pleasure I derived from that macaron thang in Paris. I like this cake, but it just doesn't hit the same level, or even come close.

That said, Matt burst into the bathroom while I was brushing Charlie's teeth and said, "WHAT is this cake you baked??" I hadn't expected him to like it, and thought he was horrified. I said, "Oh, that's just the Dorie recipe this week." He said, "I don't know what it is, but you've done good!"

SHOCK.

I said, "I thought you were going to ask why your cake tastes like flowers." He said, "Flowers? No. I don't taste flowers. I taste raspberry awesomeness."

Well okay, then. He took a chunk to work, and emailed me this morning to tell me that it went "perfecto" with his cappuccino. Who knew? He's a fan of the Ispahan Loaf. Don't get me wrong, I liked it. It just doesn't live up to my memory of what the flavor combo could be.

For dinner last night, I made last week's recipe of Orange-Scented Lentil Soup. I'd made this once before, and didn't really like it. This time, I used my red lentils (instead of brown, which was all I could find the first time), and had to substitute lemon zest for orange. Two weeks ago, there were still tangerines on the trees in the grove at my house. I foolishly assumed they were still there. Nope. Bummer. Had to pick a lemon, instead. It's a hard life.

Look at the sunset, not the hideous brown soup.

Personally, I prefer the lemon. I like oranges, but am not crazy about orange-flavored stuff. I don't know if it was the lemon or the use of red lentils, but this time, I thought the soup was quite delicious. Hooray!

By Jove, It's Working!

I hesitate to even say this, for fear of jinxing it, but Charlie has been more cooperative and put up less of a fight in terms of trying dinner for the past few days. We've even had some bonafide successes! Vegetables are still a hurdle, but he's doing much better in the meat department. Yesterday, for lunch, he ate an entire tuna fish sandwich. WHAAAAT??? Maybe it's foolish, but I don't stress about the veg. This kid eats his weight in fruit. I'll keep presenting him with vegetables, but meat was a much bigger concern for me than vegetables were.

The Basic Dry Rub (pg 26 of Weight Watchers New Complete Cookbook) is a sweet mix of brown sugar, chili powder, cumin, paprica, oregano, garlic and onion powder, and salt. I rubbed it into a london broil, let it sit for a bit, then grilled that baby up to juicy perfection. Even Matt, the steak-master, was pleased. The biggest surprise, though, is that Charlie sat down without a fuss and promptly ate several chunks of steak. He has never--I repeat, never--eaten any type of steak. Word!

Conclusion: Loved it. The recipe makes enough rub for 2 meals, so I happily have some stored away in a jar.

Wild Rice Salad with Pecans and Cranberries (pg 94) seemed like a good idea. It originally caught my eye because it would use up the wee cup of wild rice that moved here from Texas with my pantry items. Then, I thought it might stand a chance with Charlie, because it includes red grapes and dry cranberries, which are two of his favorite things. It also has toasted pecans, celery, parsley, and a vinaigrette mixed in. Sounds like it could be good, but it wasn't really. It was missing pizzazz. I couldn't figure out how to brighten it up.

Conclusion: Disliked. A waste of a variety of tasty ingredients.

Like the rice salad, Sweet and Sour Grilled Fennel (pg 270) sounded good, and failed. Perhaps I sliced it too thick, but it there was no way to cook it through without burning it. The recipe also suffered from poor instructions. After grilling it for four minutes per side, you are instructed to brush it with a balsamic vinegar/brown sugar mixture, then grill for another minute. I couldn't figure out whether this was supposed to be grilled face up or face down for this extra minute. I opted for face-down, but I'm still not sure it was correct. Anyway, these turned out burned (not caramelized. Burned) on the outside and crunchy on the inside. The balsamic dressing totally overwhelmed the subtler fennel flavor. No me gusta.

Conclusion: Hated it.

The next night, I made Chicken with Olives and Dates (pg 184). The title is a bit disingenuous. The recipe calls for two dates. TWO DATES. With 1/4 chopped apricot, it should be called Chicken with Olives and Apricots. I digress.

Once again, this sounded better than it was. Chicken is marinated for at least an hour with oil, garlic, fresh ginger, cumin, paprika, turmeric, cinnamon, and salt. Cook the chicken, covered, with a bit of broth (I needed to add more several times, because 1/4 cup of broth evaporates very quickly). After 15 minutes, flip the chicken and add apricots, your two stupid dates, chopped olives, and lemon zest. This is supposed to cook for another 15 minutes. Again, I added a good bit more broth to keep all these sugary dried fruits from burning to the pan.

I like the idea of this dish. The sweet to savory balance was off. It was very sweet, but with a strong enough garlic flavor that it made the fruit taste weird. In a bad way. Matt said he couldn't taste anything but the sweetness. Charlie ate all the chicken I put on his plate. Even though we weren't big fans of this dish, I may make it again, just because Charlie seemed to like it. He didn't eat any of the fruity part--just the chicken, so maybe I'll like it better if I just marinate the chicken, and cook as-is.

Conclusion: Just okay. The fact that Charlie ate it tips the scale in its favor, from dislike.

Most of the time, Matt is pretty indifferent to this cookbook exploration of mine. But then there are nights like last night, when he probably wishes I would just stop trying new things and stick to some foolproof recipes. With dishes like Tofu Stir-Fry (pg 228), I can't blame him.

This is the first recipe I've cooked from this book that screamed "diet food." The only reason I tried this is because I'm trying to be extra-good this week, to mitigate the damage when I eat with abandon at our Italian friends' house this coming weekend (which also happens to be our 6th anniversary, so I'm bringing a chocolate cheesecake, dammit! Diet? What diet?)

I like stir fry. Sometimes, I even like tofu. However, to like tofu, it needs to be browned and a little crispy on the outside, and to have absorbed a lot of flavor. In this dish, tofu is tossed in with all the cooked vegetables during the last four minutes. The only flavoring in this stir fry is a small amount of soy sauce, a small amount of sesame oil, and a pinch of red pepper flakes. I added chili and ginger powder and extra salt to even make it edible. Matt and I were both starving, so we ate two bowls of this, with brown rice. By the second bowl, we were both gagging on the now-cold, mushy textured tofu. Our stomachs were growling again by the time we went to bed.

This was my first time cooking tofu. If I didn't know it could be done better, it would be my last. Martha Stewart's book, Meatless, arrived yesterday. Because of the night's dinner disappointment, her recipe for tofu stir fry jumped out at me. Step one: Brown the tofu. Thought so!


Conclusion: Hated it. Oh, how I hated it. I gave some to Charlie, but opted against pushing him on it, for fear of undoing our progress. He did eat his brown rice.

One of the disadvantages of sending your kid to bed without a full belly is that they wake up hungry. Shocker, right? On Sunday, Charlie marched into my room at 630 am, poked my face, and barked, "GET UP. BREAKFAST." Not the most pleasant way to start the day (and certainly less pleasant than his normal, cheerful, "Good moooooorning!") I made the mistake of asking him what he wanted instead of just putting a bowl of cereal in front of him. He wanted pancakes. I'm not a big fan of making pancakes pre-coffee, but I sucked it up. I hesitate to count this as a distinct recipe, since I already did the buckwheat variation, but this time I made the Whole Wheat Pancakes (pg 39). I noticed, in my uncaffeinated haze, that the WW pancake recipe includes a lot of sugar. 1/3 of a cup. I asked Matt how much sugar he usually puts in pancake batter (he's the from-scratch pancake guy. I usually just open a box of Krusteaz.) His normal recipe, based off of How to Cook Everything, only uses 2 tablespoons. Hmmm. Something stinks in the land of Weight Watchers.

Like with the buckwheat, these pancakes were not exceptionally whole wheatey, and all that sugar calls the nutritional value into question. I'll probably just stick with Bittman, and toss some whole wheat flour in.

Conclusion: Just okay.

No Complaints

Much to my surprise, all of the Weight Watchers recipes that I cooked this week were good, and most were dishes that I'd be willing to work into a fairly regular routine. One critique is that, for nearly everything I've made, I've needed to use more oil than they call for. It is totally unrealistic to cook these meals with one measly teaspoon of oil. It just doesn't work.

First up, Chicken with Apples and Noodles (pg 169). I wasn't totally sure what this dish was supposed to come out like. You brown apple slice, then remove them from the pan. Add chicken to the pan, and brown it on both sides. Remove from pan. Add onions, broth, apple cider vinegar, and honey, then return the chicken to the pan until it cooks through. The apples go back in for the last two minutes, and then it's meant to be glopped on noodles. I'm glad that I chose to serve this with brown rice instead of noodles. There was not a lot of sauce left by the time I was finished, and it never would have coated pasta. A little sweet, a little tart, and plenty filling.

I forgot to take a picture until I was halfway done.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Charlie's a buckwheat fan, so I made the WW recipe for Buckwheat Pancakes (pg 39). This is a recipe for someone who doesn't like buckwheat. 1/2 cup of buckwheat flour, diluted by 1 1/2 cups of all purpose flour does not create a very buckwheatey pancake. They were fluffy, and basically tasted like a normal pancake.

Conclusion: Liked it, but wouldn't be my go-to recipe.

I was feeling a little homesick, and decided to make a BBQ-ish meal. I smeared Smoky Barbecue Sauce (pg 14) on chicken breasts, grilled them, then smeared more sauce on. Have to say, the bbq sauce was really good. I've never made my own before. It had a whole lot of flavor (and it should, with onion, garlic, ketchup, brown sugar, cider vinegar, molasses, chili powder, smoked paprika, dry mustard, ground ginger, and cayenne all simmered together). Matt said that he's not a fan of chicken with BBQ sauce that hasn't been thrown on a charcoal grill, but he was a fan of this.

A three-fer!

Conclusion: Loved it.

Rainbow Slaw (pg 91) seemed like a natural companion to the bbq chicken. I do admit that I used normal mayo and sour cream, rather than fat free versions, so I don't know how much healthier it turned out to be than a normal slaw, but there were a whole lot of vegetables involved, so I'm not losing sleep over it. The picture in the book clearly has no dressing on it, b/c after two minutes of sitting in the dressing, my red cabbage turned the whole bowl of green cabbage, carrots, yellow pepper, and scallions purple. I'd hoped that the dish's purpleness would attract Charlie. No dice.

Conclusion: Just okay. I ate plenty of it, but the leftovers have been sitting in the fridge for a week. They're destined for the trash.

Continuing my quest for decent non-greasy fries, I gave their recipe for Oven Fries (pg 260) a shot. Folks, we have a winner. Usually oven fries end up reminding me more of a roasted potato than a french fry. Not these. These tasted and had the fluffy-on-the-inside consistency of normal french fries. The difference between this recipe and others that I've tried, is that you soak the potatoes in slightly salted, slightly sugared water for 15 minutes, then dry them, before tossing them together with a little oil and paprika, and spreading them on the baking sheet. I don't know what that 15 minute soak does, exactly, but it's key! Charlie has never been fooled by an oven fry before. He usually takes one bite and spits it out. He ate his plate of these, and then asked for more.

Conclusion: Loved them. My search for a good oven fry is over.

Lastly, I made Garlicky Red Beans and Pork (pg 152). I wish I'd doubled this recipe, because it tasted good, and now I have half a pork loin sitting in the fridge, without a plan. It may be bad by now. This wasn't especially garlicky. Cumin  was the dominant flavor. It was good, though, and Charlie took several bites of it.

I'm launching a "No, you can't have an english muffin. You're eating what we're eating" mission. I don't care if he eats it all; I just want him to taste everything on his plate. I'm cautiously optimistic that this will work. It's only been a few days, but after a prolonged period of screaming tantrums, he eventually breaks down and tries what's on his plate. He even ate a whole bowl of cauliflower soup the other night (after refusing to taste it for 45 minutes.) Wish me luck.

Conclusion: Liked it.