Wrapping Up, and Up Next

I declare The Epicurious Cookbook to be solid. Everything except for the spice-bomb lettuce wraps, which were practically inedible, ranked at least an "okay,"with the majority (13 out of 18 recipes) being in the "liked" or "loved" category. Not too shabby.

Usually, by the time I've cooked 18 recipes from a book, I'm antsy to move on. In this case, there's a ton I still want to cook, but I'm switching books to afford myself a better chance at losing any weight during the 3 months of Weight Watchers that I paid for. I've gained four pounds since I signed up in January. ARGH! Anyway, I have one month left included in what I've already paid for, so I'm going to try really hard to make it work.

I unenthusiastically claim my next book to be Giada's Feel Good Food, because a) they're healthy recipes, and b) each recipe provides the nutritional breakdown per serving, so I can just plop that into WW's points calculator and be done with it, rather than having to build recipes one ingredient at a time to figure out how many points the meal will be. I hate that crap.

I'd pre-ordered this book when I heard about it, because I'm compulsive like that. It arrived, and bummed me out. It's totally uninspiring. Almond Butter Strawberry Toast? Smear bread with almond butter. Add strawberries and a drizzle of honey. Really? This is a recipe?? Very little sounds appetizing to me. You can be damn sure I won't be cooking a Strawberry-Mint Omelet for breakfast. Sugar in my eggs? I just threw up in my mouth. I will not eat Detox Broth for three meals a day. One of her dinner recipes is Grilled Herbed Tofu with Avocado Cream. As dinner? Really? It even looks sparse in the book's photo.

I've made a recipe or two since I got the book. The Chewy Granola Bars were weird and gross. I had the adorable idea to make them and cut them into heart shapes for Valentines Day. No one ate more than a bite. The Oatmeal with Olive Oil was not exactly delicious, but it was somehow more satisfying and kept me full longer than oatmeal with a smashed banana or applesauce, which is how I usually eat mine. Maybe I ate it slower because it was savory/bland. I don't know. So that recipe was okay. Still, I don't have high hopes for this book.

I know it's meant to be helpful, but the personal stories in this book make me jealously hate Giada a little. My  main thought is, "Well la-dee-dah for YOU." The only other time a cookbook evoked this feeling in me was when Ina Garten recommends that everyone have two dishwashers in their kitchen, for easy clean-up. Lady, I don't even have one dishwasher in my kitchen at the moment. I AM the dishwasher, so shut up. So Giada's pretending to be normal and cute too much, and it grates on my nerves. Regarding her weekly manicure, she says "I'll embellish my ring fingers with something a bit special. I stay in the same color family so it's a little hit of fun but nothing too crazy!" SMACK. Her favorite things to freeze so they're ready to cure a sweet tooth are "chocolate chips, grapes, mini peppermint patties, sliced banana, and berries." If frozen grapes were sufficient to cure my sweet tooth, I wouldn't need your damn book. Every three months, Giadia, her aunt, and her sister "head to the same Korean spa for a head-to-toe scrub." SMACK. She wears concealer, because "Between being a mom, working, and traveling, I dont' often get to catch up on my beauty rest!" SMACK SMACK. Maybe I'm surly, or maybe it's her excessive use of exclamation points, but the tone is so sappy and annoying. As I said before, I'm jealous. She's so perfect in her white house with her white shirt. Giada at Home made me worry that, if I knew her, I'd spill something in her squeaky clean house. This book makes me fantasize about smearing pasta all over her couch. She's pushing an image of being a normal person, but includes pictures of her gorgeous self washing her face, as if this brings her closer to us.

See? Jealous.

Pictures like this make me feel worse about me, and for that, Giada gets another SMACK SMACK.

All will be forgiven if the food turns out to be tasty. I'm not holding my breath.

Quinoa

The recipe for Black Bean and Tomato Quinoa on page 70 of The Epicurious Cookbook hit that sweet spot of lime and cilantro and green onion flavor that I don't come across in Italy unless I make it myself.

I approve.

Conclusion: Liked it. Basic "southwestern" salad, but a good one. It would be a good BBQ dish, because there aren't any ingredients that could go bad in the hot sun.

FFwD: Two Tartines from La Croix Rouge

I can't say that I was particularly excited about this week's French Fridays with Dorie recipe, except for the fact that its two components were easy. So easy that even my easily distracted self could handle preparing it on time, for once.

The recipe is really two recipes, if you can even call them that, for tartines made at a cafe in Dorie's neighborhood.

The Tartine Norvegienne--a slice of bread toasted, buttered, and layered with a slice of smoked salmon, capers, and ground pepper--sounded particularly unappetizing to me. I've never been a fan of smoked salmon, so I sprang for the pricier of the two options I could find. It wasn't actually expensive, it was just more expensive, so I figured it would give me my best shot of enjoying this.

Turns out, I did not hate this. In fact, I almost enjoyed it. I liked it enough that I plan to finish the pack of salmon instead of tossing it. Huzzah!

The second, Tartine Saint-Germain, was more my speed. It's basically a roast beef sandwich without the top piece of bread. Toast bread, smear with mayo, add thinly sliced cornichon (I used a normal baby dill pickle), and top with "paper-thin slices rarest-possible roast beef." I just used what was at the deli counter at the commissary, and I don't regret it.

The group prepared Helene's All-White Salad a few weeks back. I made the dish on time, but we traveled to Bologna the next day, and it derailed my efforts to blog about it, especially since I HATED this salad.

It's like Helene made a list of the most unappetizing raw things she could think of, and threw them together with the slightest bit of seasoning. Cabbage, celery, white mushrooms, and Granny Smith apples do not belong together, especially when bound by a dressing of egg yolk, Greek yogurt, salt, lemon, and olive oil.

No thanks.

I'm just mad that I wasted 1/2 cup of my precious produced-at-an-agriturismo-I-stayed-at olive oil on this.

Enh

There's not much to say about the recipe for Soft Scrambled Eggs with Ricotta (without chives) from pg 15 of The Epicurious Cookbook. It's scrambled eggs. With ricotta. It tastes exactly as you would expect it to. Did I like it? Well enough. Would I make it again? Nah.

Conclusion: Just okay.

If I ever create a recipe, I'll make sure to omit the superlatives in its title. The outcome can only suffer from inflated expectation. I made Amazing Chocolate Chip-Peanut Butter Cookies (pg 283) for my husband to bring to a poker night last weekend. They're intro describes them as "crisp on the outside and gooey on the inside." I fiddled around with the baking time with each sheet that went in the oven, and never achieved that effect. The day I baked these, I thought they were dry, even when I practically undercooked them, and the peanut flavor (provided by chopped peanuts and Reese's peanut butter chips) didn't pack much punch. My big takeaway was that I want to add chopped peanuts and Reese's peanut butter chips to my gold standard Toll House chocolate chip cookie recipe, and in the future, that's what I'd do.

I concede that these became moister and more flavorful overnight. Not sure how the moisture level change. Maybe the peanuts released oil or something. They were much better the next day.

That said, everyone at poker night devoured/raved about them, so maybe I'd feel more kindly toward them if the book hadn't amped them up so much. Regardless, I'll stick with adding things to Toll House's recipe next time.

Conclusion: Just okay, as far as cookies go. Don't get me wrong, I ate my fair share. Not as good as they could be, though.

Tilapia with Artichoke, Caper, and Cherry Tomato Sauce

It felt like it took a long time to prepare dinner tonight, but that's really only because it took me forever to clean the giant bag of brussel sprouts that Matt pulled from our garden. I've found enough little buggies and mystery matter (eggs? I don't know) hiding in loose leaves, that I'm psychotic about pruning the sprouts before cooking them. Regardless, the brussel sprouts had nothing to do with this recipe. The Tilapia with Artichoke, Caper, and Cherry Tomato Sauce (pg 246 of The Epicurious Cookbook) took very little time to prepare.

I was skeptical that the breadcrumb and parmigiano mixture would adhere to the fish without any egg, especially after I followed the instructions to pat the fish dry before dredging it, but it did, in fact, stick. Surprise!

I'm out of onions, so I left it out. I cooked garlic for a few seconds, then added in the halved canned artichokes, cooked it a few minutes, added halved cherry tomatoes and capers, cooked it a few minutes, until the tomatoes started to mush up a bit, then added in the water from the canned artichokes, some chicken stock, and a little butter. The mixture reduced for a few minutes, and dinner was ready. Perfetto!

Conclusion: Loved it. Easy and tasty.

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.