Contrary to what you may have been led to believe by the title of this post, I haven't mislaid any cups of coffee, lost my spectacles, forgotten why I am in this room nor any of the other odd behaviors that lead my family and friends to consider me an endearing, if rather daffy, elder. As a matter of fact, it's been remembering things that is causing me to be missing things.
Earlier this afternoon, Himself, Waggywaggy and I went for a drive. We stopped to take care of an errand or two and, while leaving town, passed several fast food joints. Memories reached forth from some dark recess of my mind, beckoning to me, murmuring of lost places, nigh-on forgotten flavors and scents long vanished anywhere other than memory. Why memory was triggered on this particular day by those particular places is anyone's guess but, for whatever reason, I have been recalling many foods, eating places and special treats that I haven't thought of for years, along with some I think of often.
What would be some of the things I find myself missing? Are they sublime? Ridiculous? Somewhere in between? Yes to all but the valuation of the item itself bears no relationship to the value of the memory.
Who amongst us doesn't miss real, honest to goodness, chocolate syrup? Not chocolate-flavored high fructose corn syrup but real chocolate? Good old Hershey's® in the little brown and white can, opened with a sharp-ended can puncher, poured liberally over ice cream? The drip down the side of the can, surreptitiously wiped with a finger, to be savored as a small prize? Squirt soda or Crush grapefruit soda? The bite of grapefruit, partially balanced by the sweetness of real sugar? Over ice on a hot, hot summer day...
The original Chef Boy Ar Dee Ravioli and Spaghettios with Little Meatballs. I loved those even though I am a bit embarrassed to admit it. The ravioli didn't actually taste like "real" ravioli but, by golly, it was tasty just the same. The little meatballs were kind of chewy and not real meaty but those, too, I loved. The frozen dinners? Remember those old Swanson's dinners? Turkey and dressing, gravy, potatoes, cranberry-apple compote? mmmmmmmmmm Mooshing the dressing cubes up with the gravy made a perfect addition to the thin slices of turkey. The fish dinners with that round cod cake? I don't know what they put in that fish cake but that was just divine, at least to a 10 year old's palate. The "mexican" dinners with rice and enchiladas... fried chicken... salisbury steak....
Tomato soup from a can? "soup and sandwich, soup and sandwich..." Tomatoey goodness, tart and sweet at the same time. Rich, red nectar for the dipping of grilled cheese sandwiches. Sandwichs made, by the way, with real butter? Mmmmmmmmm, good.
Hot fudge sundaes. Fudge squares wrapped in wax paper, melted in a tiny pot, poured over ice cream, pooling around and beneath the frosty scoops of sweet, waiting to be lovingly spooned up.
BK Whoppers and Whalers, sandwiches the size of dinner plates. Real beef, real fish, huge portions from when fast food was actual food. The McD's fries, the original ones, crisp and hot with a vague hint of beefiness. An original Hardee's roast beef sandwich, topped with sauce, juicy and inviting.
Local memories, too. Spic-n-span tenderloins with pickles, onions and mustard. Those little bitty burgers that the elderly sisters downtown dished up. Condiments were available but don't ask for ketchup. They didn't have any and you'd get the evil eye for asking. Suzy-Q spiral fries. mmmmmm! Maid-rite sandwiches, the easiest tasty ever! Ground beef and chicken broth... that's it, really. Ice cream made on-site at Birdsall's, turtle sundaes, marshmallow shakes. Walking out of the ice cream parlor and smelling hot tar, licking that cone fast enough to keep from having ice cream drip down your arm. The bakery that made krispies so light they would melt in your mouth. Costa's restaurant's Greek specialties... Steaks at the Play Pen, the Athenian's Greek salads.
There are also memories of things I don't miss one bit. Horrible foods from the sixties and seventies on which I might decide to elaborate. Later...
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Rarebit, anyone?
Welsh Rarebit or Welsh Rabbit? Regardless of regional variations, the name is an oddity and seems to have nothing whatsoever to do with Wales or anywhere else as far as I've ever heard. (Regardless of Looney Tunes, the dish has nothing to do with hassenpfeffer, even though that is simply German for "rabbit stew.") I adore any of the variations of this dish, being a huge fan of cheese, mustard, cayenne and beer.
Thanks to my dear friend, Tartiflette, I can present you with the basic recipe for Rarebit and two regional variations, Yorkshire and Scots. So, on with the cheeseing!
Basic Welsh Rarebit (the classic with cheese, mustard and ale)
This is supposed to serve two but around here it's barely enough for me! I like more cayenne, too.
Mix all ingredients but the bread together. Set aside.
Toast bread lightly on one side.
Spread cheese mixture on untoasted side of bread.
Broil until cheese is melted and bubbly.
Enjoy hot!
Yorkshire Rarebit (crisp bacon and is made with Wensleydale*)
Melt butter and add flour. Make into a roux, stir in milk and ale.
Stir over heat until a stiff sauce forms. Add the mustard powder and the Worchestershire, stir in and add the cheese. Stir until melted. When all melted, add the egg and bacon and stir.
Cut the ciabatta rolls into half and toast, top each piece with some of the cheese mixture and brown under the broiler. Serve with a little salad or as a savoury at the end of a meal.
Scotch Rarebit (Straight from Mrs Beeton, who evidently wasn't a big fan of punctuation. The cook is assumed to know what the proportions are to produce the desired result.)
Cut some nice rich sound cheese into rather thin slices.
Melt in a cheese toaster on a hot plate or over steam.
When melted, add a small quantity of mixed mustard and a seasoning of pepper.
Stir the cheese until it is completely dissolved.
Brown it before the heat or with a salamander.
Fill the bottom of the cheese toaster with hot water and serve with dry or buttered toasts, whichever may be preferred.
A cheese toaster has a hot water reservoir, the cheese is melted in the upper tin, which is placed in another vessel of boiling water, so keeping the preparation beautifully hot.
A small quantity of porter or port wine, is sometimes mixed with the cheese, and if it be not very rich, a few pieces of butter may be mixed with it to great advantage.
Sometimes the melted cheese is spread on the toasts and then laid in the cheese dish at the top of the hot water.
Whichever way it is served, it is highly necessary that the mixture be very hot and very quickly served or it will be worthless.
* As far as I'm concerned, there isn't anything made with Wensleydale that isn't absolutely delicious.
Thanks to my dear friend, Tartiflette, I can present you with the basic recipe for Rarebit and two regional variations, Yorkshire and Scots. So, on with the cheeseing!
Basic Welsh Rarebit (the classic with cheese, mustard and ale)
This is supposed to serve two but around here it's barely enough for me! I like more cayenne, too.
- 2 slices bread
- 1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
- dash salt
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
- 1/4 teaspoon Worcestershire
- 1/2 ounce butter
- 3 ounces cheddar cheese, grated
- 1 tablespoon beer or ale
Mix all ingredients but the bread together. Set aside.
Toast bread lightly on one side.
Spread cheese mixture on untoasted side of bread.
Broil until cheese is melted and bubbly.
Enjoy hot!
Yorkshire Rarebit (crisp bacon and is made with Wensleydale*)
- 1 3/4 ounces butter
- 1 3/4 ounces plain flour
- 1 1/8 cup milk
- 1 1/8 cup black sheep ale or an ale of your choice
- 1 1/8 cup mature Wensleydale cheese
- 1 tsp. English mustard powder
- 2 slice streaky bacon, fried until crisp and crumbled
- few drops of Worcestershire, to taste
- 1 egg
- 4 Ciabatta rolls
Melt butter and add flour. Make into a roux, stir in milk and ale.
Stir over heat until a stiff sauce forms. Add the mustard powder and the Worchestershire, stir in and add the cheese. Stir until melted. When all melted, add the egg and bacon and stir.
Cut the ciabatta rolls into half and toast, top each piece with some of the cheese mixture and brown under the broiler. Serve with a little salad or as a savoury at the end of a meal.
Scotch Rarebit (Straight from Mrs Beeton, who evidently wasn't a big fan of punctuation. The cook is assumed to know what the proportions are to produce the desired result.)
- Rich Cheese, few slices
- Toast
- Mustard
- Pepper
Cut some nice rich sound cheese into rather thin slices.
Melt in a cheese toaster on a hot plate or over steam.
When melted, add a small quantity of mixed mustard and a seasoning of pepper.
Stir the cheese until it is completely dissolved.
Brown it before the heat or with a salamander.
Fill the bottom of the cheese toaster with hot water and serve with dry or buttered toasts, whichever may be preferred.
A cheese toaster has a hot water reservoir, the cheese is melted in the upper tin, which is placed in another vessel of boiling water, so keeping the preparation beautifully hot.
A small quantity of porter or port wine, is sometimes mixed with the cheese, and if it be not very rich, a few pieces of butter may be mixed with it to great advantage.
Sometimes the melted cheese is spread on the toasts and then laid in the cheese dish at the top of the hot water.
Whichever way it is served, it is highly necessary that the mixture be very hot and very quickly served or it will be worthless.
* As far as I'm concerned, there isn't anything made with Wensleydale that isn't absolutely delicious.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
The tail is wagging the ox
People who buy all their meat in those plastic-entombed packages at the supermarket don't know just how tasty oxtail soup can be. We're lucky to live in a farming region and have access to a locker that is willing to supply all kinds of odds and ends that are missing from commercial stores like the big chains. Oxtail is one of my favorite types of soup, astonishingly rich and hearty.
If you can find a tail or two, give it a try! It's not hard and you will be very pleased with the results. It's possible to substitute inexpensive cuts of bone-in beef but it won't be the same. Oxtail has a very distinct flavor, beefy but not like arm roast or sirloin. The end result using oxtail will be a richer and heartier soup than any other cut you could use.
Oxtail Soup
serves 4
Heat oven to 450F while prepping vegetables.
Put all vegetables into a heavy roasting pan, pour a small amount of oil over the vegetables, toss to coat.
Rub tail with oil, place on top of the vegetables.
Put pan in oven and roast all until veg. has browned nicely, stirring every once in a while to prevent too much sticking.
Bring broth and wine to a slow boil at the very ends of the roasting process. Reduce to simmer.
Turn oven off, allow pan and contents to cool some.
Remove meat from pan, place in slow cooker or large stockpot.
Add all vegetables to pot or cooker, set aside.
Return roasting pan to cooktop on medium high heat. Deglaze with the broth and wine mixture, scraping up all the lovely bits from the bottom. (some of them may seem a bit burnt but that will be ok as long as they aren't totally charred.) Pour the pan liquids into your cooking vessel, stir well.
For a slow cooker, turn heat to low and simmer until meat is tender and falling off the bones, anywhere from 2 to 6 hours, depending on the size of the oxtail. Turn heat off, strain through a colander. Set broth in a cool place or the refrigerator to solidify and remove the fat.
For a stock pot, bring contents to full boil, reduce heat just to where the liquid is simmering, cover loosely. Simmer until meat is tender, as above. Turn heat off, strain through a colander. Set broth in a cool place or the refrigerator to solidify and remove the fat.
Discard the vegetables.* Remove meat from bone being careful to leave the spinal matter intact as you don't really want to use that.
Return liquid and meat to stock pot (I don't use a slow cooker for this last part.) Bring to simmer and add the vegetables and herbs. At a very slow boil, cook the soup until the vegetables are all tender, 2 to 4 hours. If the stock becomes too thick or the soup seems to be drying too much before the vegetables are done, add liquids as desired. It's a good idea to taste the broth to see just what it is that is needed. What you add will depend on what kind of wine you used in the first steps as well as the relative strength of your broth. You may add salt and pepper sometime near the end of the cooking process, too.
The result will be a soup with a lovely rich consistency but not too thick. Serve hot with biscuits or good bread for soaking up the broth, maybe a nice salad on the side. Great stuff for winter days...
* Another option for the vegetables? If they aren't too done, as in mooshy, keep them. When they are totally cool, put them in a blender with about 1/2 cup chicken stock and puree. Stir this into the broth before you put the next lot of vegetables in. Darned roasted veg smells and tastes so good that it's a shame to waste all of that.
** To lessen the "bite" of the garlic either simmer it for about 10 minutes or roast it. Either method gives a smoother taste that blends well with the other ingredients and the richness of the broth.
If you can find a tail or two, give it a try! It's not hard and you will be very pleased with the results. It's possible to substitute inexpensive cuts of bone-in beef but it won't be the same. Oxtail has a very distinct flavor, beefy but not like arm roast or sirloin. The end result using oxtail will be a richer and heartier soup than any other cut you could use.
Oxtail Soup
serves 4
- 1 oxtail, whole
- 2 onions, rough chop
- 1 large carrot, scraped and sliced into 1" pieces
- 2 celery ribs, 1" pieces
- 2 cups diced tomatoes with peel
- 4 cloves garlic, unpeeled
- oil
Heat oven to 450F while prepping vegetables.
Put all vegetables into a heavy roasting pan, pour a small amount of oil over the vegetables, toss to coat.
Rub tail with oil, place on top of the vegetables.
Put pan in oven and roast all until veg. has browned nicely, stirring every once in a while to prevent too much sticking.
- 4 cups beef broth
- 1/2 cup dry red wine
Bring broth and wine to a slow boil at the very ends of the roasting process. Reduce to simmer.
Turn oven off, allow pan and contents to cool some.
Remove meat from pan, place in slow cooker or large stockpot.
Add all vegetables to pot or cooker, set aside.
Return roasting pan to cooktop on medium high heat. Deglaze with the broth and wine mixture, scraping up all the lovely bits from the bottom. (some of them may seem a bit burnt but that will be ok as long as they aren't totally charred.) Pour the pan liquids into your cooking vessel, stir well.
For a slow cooker, turn heat to low and simmer until meat is tender and falling off the bones, anywhere from 2 to 6 hours, depending on the size of the oxtail. Turn heat off, strain through a colander. Set broth in a cool place or the refrigerator to solidify and remove the fat.
For a stock pot, bring contents to full boil, reduce heat just to where the liquid is simmering, cover loosely. Simmer until meat is tender, as above. Turn heat off, strain through a colander. Set broth in a cool place or the refrigerator to solidify and remove the fat.
Discard the vegetables.* Remove meat from bone being careful to leave the spinal matter intact as you don't really want to use that.
- 1 onion, chopped
- 2 carrots, scraped, cut into 1" pieces
- 1 celery rib, cut into 1" pieces (I don't put celery in but some folks like it.)
- 3 large red potatoes, peeled and quartered
- 2 bay leaves
- 1 sprig thyme or 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 4 sprigs parsley or 3 teaspoons dried parsley
- 2 cloves garlic, mashed (optional)**
- additional red wine, broth or water, to taste and as needed
Return liquid and meat to stock pot (I don't use a slow cooker for this last part.) Bring to simmer and add the vegetables and herbs. At a very slow boil, cook the soup until the vegetables are all tender, 2 to 4 hours. If the stock becomes too thick or the soup seems to be drying too much before the vegetables are done, add liquids as desired. It's a good idea to taste the broth to see just what it is that is needed. What you add will depend on what kind of wine you used in the first steps as well as the relative strength of your broth. You may add salt and pepper sometime near the end of the cooking process, too.
The result will be a soup with a lovely rich consistency but not too thick. Serve hot with biscuits or good bread for soaking up the broth, maybe a nice salad on the side. Great stuff for winter days...
* Another option for the vegetables? If they aren't too done, as in mooshy, keep them. When they are totally cool, put them in a blender with about 1/2 cup chicken stock and puree. Stir this into the broth before you put the next lot of vegetables in. Darned roasted veg smells and tastes so good that it's a shame to waste all of that.
** To lessen the "bite" of the garlic either simmer it for about 10 minutes or roast it. Either method gives a smoother taste that blends well with the other ingredients and the richness of the broth.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Jamaican-style jerk brine
The chicken turned out beautifully, crispy golden, tender and savory. This is an approximation of the combination of ingredients used in the brine solution. (I really must start writing things down as I go along 'cause I forget what I've done and must cast about to redo it.)
Combine all ingredients except scotch bonnets, in a large stock pot, bring to boil. Reduce heat, give it a good long smell to see if you have enough spice, if not add some more. Remove from heat and allow to cool.
Place chicken in pot and add enough cold water to cover the bird totally. Keep it submerged during the brining process by using a plate inverted over it. Refrigerate for up to 24 hours.
Remove chicken from brine. Discard brine.
Pat bird dry, rub all over with butter. Add another layer of flavor by using a paste rub after the butter. (Busha Browne's is really, really good and you can get it online.)
Cook bird in whatever manner you wish. I did it in the oven, 450F for 15 minutes, 375 for another hour or so, until done. Grilling is also good.
- Chicken sufficient for the number of eaters, cut up or whole
- 3/4 cup kosher salt
- 3/4 cup brown sugar
- 2 quarts broth, vegetable or chicken
- 1 tablespoon hickory smoke flavor if not grilling
- 1 cup white vinegar (optional)
- 4 scotch bonnets, stemmed and minced (don't forget the gloves)
- 1/2 cup green onion, minced (sub same amount of finely chopped white onion if you wish)
- 1/2 cup lime juice (if you can get it)
- 4 garlic cloves, minced
- 2 tablespoons thyme
- 2 tablespoon allspice, crushed berries or ground
- 2 tablespoons garlic powder
- 3 teaspoons cayenne pepper
- 3 teaspoons rubbed sage
- 2 teaspoons ginger, peeled and grated
- 2 teaspoons nutmeg
- 2 teaspoons cinnamon, ground
Combine all ingredients except scotch bonnets, in a large stock pot, bring to boil. Reduce heat, give it a good long smell to see if you have enough spice, if not add some more. Remove from heat and allow to cool.
Place chicken in pot and add enough cold water to cover the bird totally. Keep it submerged during the brining process by using a plate inverted over it. Refrigerate for up to 24 hours.
Remove chicken from brine. Discard brine.
Pat bird dry, rub all over with butter. Add another layer of flavor by using a paste rub after the butter. (Busha Browne's is really, really good and you can get it online.)
Cook bird in whatever manner you wish. I did it in the oven, 450F for 15 minutes, 375 for another hour or so, until done. Grilling is also good.
Goodbye
Goodbye.
Gone ahead.
Seeing what you always knew was there. Gone ahead.
Dreams in life and life's dreams, apparent.
Goodbye.
Gone ahead.
Written for my dear friend Stacy, who unexpectedly died of a brain aneurysm many years before what should have been her time. A marvelous cook, dear friend, loving and proud parent.
Good bye, Stace... gone ahead.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
A pinch here, a tad there...
One Thing Leads to Another
Decided to clean the front of the microwave today (you all already know what I think of that mike...) so sprayed it down with my handy-dandy refilled, environmentally friendly citrus cleaner. YUCK! Ok, clean the mike. Done. With the face of that thing shining, the faceboard above it looked a bit grungy. Hey, no prob. Spray that down, clean! Yay... no, wait a minute. Now the doors above the faceboard above the mike really look bad and those stupid white ceramic handles are pretty gross. Remove doors, dropping screw between stove and cupboard. Pry fingers from goo on doors. Remove hardware. Slather on citrus cleaner. Nope, that's not doing it. Try gel dishwasher detergent. Ok, that works. scrubscrubscrub rinse. Yuck, just yuck. Repeat on remaining 3 doors and hardware. Figured it's a good thing my grossitude index is pretty high or this would've done me in. The knobs took a little extra attention, too. Like a razor blade to remove encrusted whatever-that-is. I think I'll throw that green scrubby away because it's looking pretty sad and I can't seem to get all the brown stuff out of it. While I was up messing about I noticed the top of the fridge was pretty bad, nothing like the cupboards but still... Remove every last blasted thing from all fridge sides and top, climb up on stool, spray, wipe, spray, rinse. Ok. Much better. Except for the drizzles down the sides. Oh, yeah, and on the floor. So, wash down sides and floor. Good! Time to put the doors back on. Uh, there's the small problem of that missing screw. Fetch flashlight to peer down into what reveals itself as the crack of doom. OMG What IS all that stuff? Where did it come from? Damme, there's a mixing spoon down there, too. Retrieve poker from fireplace, get down on floor and use poker to drag as much uck out as possible. That leaves the stuff on the sides of both cupboard and stove. Hmmmmmmm, well, let's see. Ah, I know! Fetch Farmer's Grain Association Meeting 1918 wooden yardstick from closet, wrap with cloth, soak cloth in cleaner and start jamming it around in the space there. After a few minutes of that, feeling relieved that nobody had noticed what I was doing, I figured it looked better than it did. After putting everything away, sweeping up that awful stuff that came out of the Black Hole, and having a nice cup of coffee, I promised myself I wouldn't look too closely at the other top cupboards. Not yet.
At least I found that screw.
Hot Hot Hot
Having been approached by Himself with a plaint having to do with the recent lack of Jamaican-style Jerk in our diet, I decided to make the poor guy happy and do some up. (Mind you, there is not a chance of grilling it. The gas grill is in pieces for the winter and I'm not about the try to regulate a fire in the smoker or the small grill in a 40 mile per hour north wind. Just Not Gonna Do It. Not even for my sweetie.) DS1 and DIL brought back a little jar of authentic jerk seasoning from Jamaica over the holidays and it is really delicious. Only problem? It's not hot enough. The best answer for that is to brine the clucker, include all the ingredients that I would normally use as a marinade and hope for the best. So, that's what I've done. (If this works out I might post the recipe for the brine.) Besides the onion, garlic, sugars, spices and such-like, scotch bonnets are the pepper of choice for us fire-eaters.
I have a lot of them, too. They're in the freezer. What might not be evident to a casual onlooker is the fact that they tend to dehydrate in the freezer. This concentrates the capsaicin to an astounding degree. Either that or they just keep getting hotter by some mechanism unknown to me. I work with hot peppers a lot and they don't usually bother me, no sneezing, no burning skin, nothing. This ain't the case with these particular scotch bonnets. I wear gloves and try not to breathe very deeply. I also stem them and put them in my lovely mini-prep machine to grind them up, which I've found saves not only time but my nose. Usually. I figured since the chicken is over 5 pounds and there it takes quite a bit of brine to submerge a beast that size, I had better use 4 peppers. No problem there until I foolishly popped the lid from the prepper in mid-breath and promptly went into a sneezing fit. Please note, I wasn't bent over with my nose anywhere near that prep machine. As a matter of fact, it was at arm's length. Made no difference at all. Sneeze sneeze sneeze sneeze... after more than 5 minutes of rhinoblastation, the nose settled down enough to allow me to pick the prepper bowl up and carefully rinse the contents of the prep into the pot with the brine before the pepper mash ate through my pink rubber gloves. After all, I have to save the gloves to be able to turn the chicken in the brine several times over the next few hours. And I ain't doing it with my bare hands. No way. No how.
Note to self: Idiot! Don't stick your face down next to the brine to see how it smells.
Bathroom Redux
We gutted and redid the main bath in 2006. That was surely a fun, fun time. (That's a lie. If I ever say that again, slap me.) As with the great majority of things in this house, the bathroom was a disaster. All gleaming white tile, idiotic 1970s swag light fixture. plate glass mirror that was (I swear!) 4 foot high by 8 foot long. I've seen smaller mirrors in dance studios. White w.c., white tub, teensy tiny tub, at that. White sink, white vanity, white drawer pulls, dark walnut trim and doors. The sheer blinding mass of whiteness, surpassed only by mid-antarctica on a sunny day, was accented by a royal blue shag rug. With foam backing. In a bathroom. That was a bright idea, folks, yes indeed. The tub had been fitted out with a set of wavy glass sliding doors that leaked. They not only leaked, they leaked badly. Know what happens to foam backed shag carpet over the course of 30 years of leakage? Yup. Mold, mildew and a rotted subfloor to boot. Yours truly is deathly allergic to mold and mildew and this state of affairs was simply not to be borne. We started out with the idea of just replacing that carpet with tile. But, once the carpet and pad were pulled up, the extent of damage was such that, well, let me just say it's fortunate the bathtub hadn't fallen through the floor into the bathroom downstairs. We also discovered that sometime back in the mists of time, the toilet had leaked, been pulled, refitted with the wrong wax ring, reseated and somebody stuck more tile around it to hide the problem. OK, so what the hell, let's just gut the mess and go from scratch. Which is just what we did.
Everyone here understands why I always get an urge to kick those hosts of television shows that redo a bathroom in 2 days. This particular project took months. MONTHS! Traipsing downstairs at 2 a.m. to go potty, taking showers in the boy's realm, after a few weeks of that, we just went out to the rv at night to piddle. Much easier and a lot cleaner. So we had a lovely new bath with all kinds of good things and it was warm and cozy and we have a whirlpool! Then a "small" problem rears it's head. The texturey-stuff on the ceiling, which we left intact during the redo, seems to be bubbling and falling off in chunks. Great. NOW what?
The "what" turns out to be one of those things that we deal with over and over, stupid stuff. The original builders, evidently suffering from a bad case of H.U.T.A. syndrome, didn't prime the raw, new sheetrock they installed. They applied paint directly to the gypsum board. Sorry, folks, no matter what you might like to believe? In a high-humidity area like a bathroom, even with a monster exhaust like we put in, paint will not seal sheetrock. Over the years, moisture has done some damage to the finish and at some time back there in the olden days, someone got the bright idea that since their paint was looking not-great, spray on a nice thick coat of texture. Where they got the idea that it would make a difference? Who knows.
Himself has been working on scraping that texture off since Sunday and the end is not in sight. Then he will skim coat, prime with some really good alcohol-based stuff and we shall try to figure out what color would look good as a final coat. Until then, no sinks, no tub, the w.c. works fine, just remember to wipe the seat well and take your toilet paper in with you. It's either embarrassing or comical to find oneself enthroned with no toilet paper, having to yell out "Somebody bring me the t.p., please?" When that somebody happens to be an 18 year old male? The pot is in direct line of sight when the door is opened even a little bit so the youngster has to figure out a way to stand to the side of the door and toss the roll in. Best you can hope for is that it lands somewhere within reach of the toilet brush, otherwise, you're gonna be drip-dry. This whole mess will be taken care of, eventually. Then we shall proceed on to the next mess, and the one after that, and the one after that and.....
Note to self: Hold breath while walking through kitchen. Brine seems to be getting a little odiferous.
Decided to clean the front of the microwave today (you all already know what I think of that mike...) so sprayed it down with my handy-dandy refilled, environmentally friendly citrus cleaner. YUCK! Ok, clean the mike. Done. With the face of that thing shining, the faceboard above it looked a bit grungy. Hey, no prob. Spray that down, clean! Yay... no, wait a minute. Now the doors above the faceboard above the mike really look bad and those stupid white ceramic handles are pretty gross. Remove doors, dropping screw between stove and cupboard. Pry fingers from goo on doors. Remove hardware. Slather on citrus cleaner. Nope, that's not doing it. Try gel dishwasher detergent. Ok, that works. scrubscrubscrub rinse. Yuck, just yuck. Repeat on remaining 3 doors and hardware. Figured it's a good thing my grossitude index is pretty high or this would've done me in. The knobs took a little extra attention, too. Like a razor blade to remove encrusted whatever-that-is. I think I'll throw that green scrubby away because it's looking pretty sad and I can't seem to get all the brown stuff out of it. While I was up messing about I noticed the top of the fridge was pretty bad, nothing like the cupboards but still... Remove every last blasted thing from all fridge sides and top, climb up on stool, spray, wipe, spray, rinse. Ok. Much better. Except for the drizzles down the sides. Oh, yeah, and on the floor. So, wash down sides and floor. Good! Time to put the doors back on. Uh, there's the small problem of that missing screw. Fetch flashlight to peer down into what reveals itself as the crack of doom. OMG What IS all that stuff? Where did it come from? Damme, there's a mixing spoon down there, too. Retrieve poker from fireplace, get down on floor and use poker to drag as much uck out as possible. That leaves the stuff on the sides of both cupboard and stove. Hmmmmmmm, well, let's see. Ah, I know! Fetch Farmer's Grain Association Meeting 1918 wooden yardstick from closet, wrap with cloth, soak cloth in cleaner and start jamming it around in the space there. After a few minutes of that, feeling relieved that nobody had noticed what I was doing, I figured it looked better than it did. After putting everything away, sweeping up that awful stuff that came out of the Black Hole, and having a nice cup of coffee, I promised myself I wouldn't look too closely at the other top cupboards. Not yet.
At least I found that screw.
Hot Hot Hot
Having been approached by Himself with a plaint having to do with the recent lack of Jamaican-style Jerk in our diet, I decided to make the poor guy happy and do some up. (Mind you, there is not a chance of grilling it. The gas grill is in pieces for the winter and I'm not about the try to regulate a fire in the smoker or the small grill in a 40 mile per hour north wind. Just Not Gonna Do It. Not even for my sweetie.) DS1 and DIL brought back a little jar of authentic jerk seasoning from Jamaica over the holidays and it is really delicious. Only problem? It's not hot enough. The best answer for that is to brine the clucker, include all the ingredients that I would normally use as a marinade and hope for the best. So, that's what I've done. (If this works out I might post the recipe for the brine.) Besides the onion, garlic, sugars, spices and such-like, scotch bonnets are the pepper of choice for us fire-eaters.
I have a lot of them, too. They're in the freezer. What might not be evident to a casual onlooker is the fact that they tend to dehydrate in the freezer. This concentrates the capsaicin to an astounding degree. Either that or they just keep getting hotter by some mechanism unknown to me. I work with hot peppers a lot and they don't usually bother me, no sneezing, no burning skin, nothing. This ain't the case with these particular scotch bonnets. I wear gloves and try not to breathe very deeply. I also stem them and put them in my lovely mini-prep machine to grind them up, which I've found saves not only time but my nose. Usually. I figured since the chicken is over 5 pounds and there it takes quite a bit of brine to submerge a beast that size, I had better use 4 peppers. No problem there until I foolishly popped the lid from the prepper in mid-breath and promptly went into a sneezing fit. Please note, I wasn't bent over with my nose anywhere near that prep machine. As a matter of fact, it was at arm's length. Made no difference at all. Sneeze sneeze sneeze sneeze... after more than 5 minutes of rhinoblastation, the nose settled down enough to allow me to pick the prepper bowl up and carefully rinse the contents of the prep into the pot with the brine before the pepper mash ate through my pink rubber gloves. After all, I have to save the gloves to be able to turn the chicken in the brine several times over the next few hours. And I ain't doing it with my bare hands. No way. No how.
Note to self: Idiot! Don't stick your face down next to the brine to see how it smells.
Bathroom Redux
We gutted and redid the main bath in 2006. That was surely a fun, fun time. (That's a lie. If I ever say that again, slap me.) As with the great majority of things in this house, the bathroom was a disaster. All gleaming white tile, idiotic 1970s swag light fixture. plate glass mirror that was (I swear!) 4 foot high by 8 foot long. I've seen smaller mirrors in dance studios. White w.c., white tub, teensy tiny tub, at that. White sink, white vanity, white drawer pulls, dark walnut trim and doors. The sheer blinding mass of whiteness, surpassed only by mid-antarctica on a sunny day, was accented by a royal blue shag rug. With foam backing. In a bathroom. That was a bright idea, folks, yes indeed. The tub had been fitted out with a set of wavy glass sliding doors that leaked. They not only leaked, they leaked badly. Know what happens to foam backed shag carpet over the course of 30 years of leakage? Yup. Mold, mildew and a rotted subfloor to boot. Yours truly is deathly allergic to mold and mildew and this state of affairs was simply not to be borne. We started out with the idea of just replacing that carpet with tile. But, once the carpet and pad were pulled up, the extent of damage was such that, well, let me just say it's fortunate the bathtub hadn't fallen through the floor into the bathroom downstairs. We also discovered that sometime back in the mists of time, the toilet had leaked, been pulled, refitted with the wrong wax ring, reseated and somebody stuck more tile around it to hide the problem. OK, so what the hell, let's just gut the mess and go from scratch. Which is just what we did.
Everyone here understands why I always get an urge to kick those hosts of television shows that redo a bathroom in 2 days. This particular project took months. MONTHS! Traipsing downstairs at 2 a.m. to go potty, taking showers in the boy's realm, after a few weeks of that, we just went out to the rv at night to piddle. Much easier and a lot cleaner. So we had a lovely new bath with all kinds of good things and it was warm and cozy and we have a whirlpool! Then a "small" problem rears it's head. The texturey-stuff on the ceiling, which we left intact during the redo, seems to be bubbling and falling off in chunks. Great. NOW what?
The "what" turns out to be one of those things that we deal with over and over, stupid stuff. The original builders, evidently suffering from a bad case of H.U.T.A. syndrome, didn't prime the raw, new sheetrock they installed. They applied paint directly to the gypsum board. Sorry, folks, no matter what you might like to believe? In a high-humidity area like a bathroom, even with a monster exhaust like we put in, paint will not seal sheetrock. Over the years, moisture has done some damage to the finish and at some time back there in the olden days, someone got the bright idea that since their paint was looking not-great, spray on a nice thick coat of texture. Where they got the idea that it would make a difference? Who knows.
Himself has been working on scraping that texture off since Sunday and the end is not in sight. Then he will skim coat, prime with some really good alcohol-based stuff and we shall try to figure out what color would look good as a final coat. Until then, no sinks, no tub, the w.c. works fine, just remember to wipe the seat well and take your toilet paper in with you. It's either embarrassing or comical to find oneself enthroned with no toilet paper, having to yell out "Somebody bring me the t.p., please?" When that somebody happens to be an 18 year old male? The pot is in direct line of sight when the door is opened even a little bit so the youngster has to figure out a way to stand to the side of the door and toss the roll in. Best you can hope for is that it lands somewhere within reach of the toilet brush, otherwise, you're gonna be drip-dry. This whole mess will be taken care of, eventually. Then we shall proceed on to the next mess, and the one after that, and the one after that and.....
Note to self: Hold breath while walking through kitchen. Brine seems to be getting a little odiferous.
Friday, February 13, 2009
can't think of an apt title for this one...
Pink? PINK? Who the flying eff buys something because it's PINK?
I know that there are brainless women who do buy anything, as long as it is pink. There are also brainless males who really believe that the beer commercials that feature a guy who is treating his lady with respect, ending up with a gigantic beer can flattening him to a grease spot in the driveway, is the way reality should be. Uh huh.
There is some ad guy in a snazzy suit, somewhere, sitting around thinking of ways to cozen the masses. There are probably scads of ad guys and gals, in reality, doing the exact same thing. No, wait, there ARE scads of them. Everywhere.
Scamming everyone seems to be a real common thing, nowadays. Anyone seen that moron flogging the "shamwow" thingamabob on television? He wears a bluetooth headset like he is having a running dialogue with God or someone. Sham-wow, indeed.
Now, back to the topic...
Women with "food issues?" What? Food issues? Boyfriends monitoring food intake? WTF? There should be someone watching you to make sure you don't eat chocolate? Here is a direct quote from the MoJo article:
Paranoid heterosexual women? What? How about someone watching me so I don't bitch-slap someone telling me what I should or shouldn't be eating, drinking or wearing?
Then there is the "sparkle" factor. Riiiiiight. Golly gee whiz, all us not too bright females just can't resist those sparkles. Oh, sparkles with the pinkage! Pinky sparklies! ooooooh. Do the advertisers think we are all 9 year old girls, emotionally and mentally? Infatuated with the "hunkage" at the next desk? Shallow, uneducated, foolish women who have not enough wits to look at an ad campaign and know they are being gulled, bamboozled and insulted?
Ok, that was a stupid question because there must be someone out there what actually buys that kind of swill. If there were no buyers, there would be no advertisers doing their thing. There are as many shallow, uneducated and happily ignorant and unobservant females in the world as there are males of the same kind.
I'm just tired of all of them.
I know that there are brainless women who do buy anything, as long as it is pink. There are also brainless males who really believe that the beer commercials that feature a guy who is treating his lady with respect, ending up with a gigantic beer can flattening him to a grease spot in the driveway, is the way reality should be. Uh huh.
There is some ad guy in a snazzy suit, somewhere, sitting around thinking of ways to cozen the masses. There are probably scads of ad guys and gals, in reality, doing the exact same thing. No, wait, there ARE scads of them. Everywhere.
Scamming everyone seems to be a real common thing, nowadays. Anyone seen that moron flogging the "shamwow" thingamabob on television? He wears a bluetooth headset like he is having a running dialogue with God or someone. Sham-wow, indeed.
Now, back to the topic...
Women with "food issues?" What? Food issues? Boyfriends monitoring food intake? WTF? There should be someone watching you to make sure you don't eat chocolate? Here is a direct quote from the MoJo article:
"...paranoid heterosexual women whose eating habits are monitored by their boyfriends..."
Paranoid heterosexual women? What? How about someone watching me so I don't bitch-slap someone telling me what I should or shouldn't be eating, drinking or wearing?
Then there is the "sparkle" factor. Riiiiiight. Golly gee whiz, all us not too bright females just can't resist those sparkles. Oh, sparkles with the pinkage! Pinky sparklies! ooooooh. Do the advertisers think we are all 9 year old girls, emotionally and mentally? Infatuated with the "hunkage" at the next desk? Shallow, uneducated, foolish women who have not enough wits to look at an ad campaign and know they are being gulled, bamboozled and insulted?
Ok, that was a stupid question because there must be someone out there what actually buys that kind of swill. If there were no buyers, there would be no advertisers doing their thing. There are as many shallow, uneducated and happily ignorant and unobservant females in the world as there are males of the same kind.
I'm just tired of all of them.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Excellent!
I don't normally inject politics into this blog but I can't resist giving you this link:
Feldman
As usual, excellent words from Mr. Feldman. I agree, wholeheartedly.
Feldman
As usual, excellent words from Mr. Feldman. I agree, wholeheartedly.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Ain't we got fun!
For all you lovers of words, check out savethewords.org. I just adopted "vicambulate*," and will use it for flosculating* this bromography*. After all, wouldn't do to be accused of being soloecal*.
Be ready!
vicambulate: walk about in the streets (don't do much of that anymore)
flosculate: to embellish or ornament speech (hoping it applies to written speech)
bromography: a systematic, extensive written discourse on food. (applies more to Escoffier than me, to be honest.)
soloecal: provincially incorrect (this will be a very useful word, indeed)
Be ready!
vicambulate: walk about in the streets (don't do much of that anymore)
flosculate: to embellish or ornament speech (hoping it applies to written speech)
bromography: a systematic, extensive written discourse on food. (applies more to Escoffier than me, to be honest.)
soloecal: provincially incorrect (this will be a very useful word, indeed)
Epic FAIL
It doesn't happen often but when it does, it is really bad. I'm not talking about earaches, sick kids or tornadoes, I'm talking about a oft-prepared dish that simply goes totally awry. Last night it was a basic, very basic, bolognese.
Yesterday turned out to be a long, loooooong day. We picked up and installed the new dishwasher. The installation started oddly as the instructions are packed inside the machine but the door wouldn't open. Since there were no instructions anywhere in sight, I looked up the Maytag site and they did have .pdf copies of all necessary stuff. Turns out, unbeknownst to all but actual repair people, the door is held shut by a piece of metal underneath it that must be removed before you can get to the instructions. Uh HUH. I see. After taking the 90° brass fitting and power supply cord from the old dishwasher, Himself proceeded to wire, attach and finagle things until, at long last, the machine was installed and working fine. Then we discovered that, even after thinking of absolutely everything, the silverware drawer won't open because the dishwasher can't be flush-mounted. OK, switch drawers around, no problem.
This was a good opportunity to go through my utensil drawers and sort them out. Have the contents in two tubs and, if I don't use them within 6 months, out they all go! woowoo.
Then scrub the kitchen cabinets and floor, clean out under the fridge, haul about 7 loads of laundry up and down, monitor a trip to an emergency room 100+ miles away made by DS1 and DIL, after which time it was nigh on supper time. Digging around in the freezer brought no brainstorms, we have no prepared soup so soups and grilled cheese was out. What to do?
Ahhhhh! The old stand-by, pasta. Well, it's usually a standby.
This time it turned out SO bad words fail me. Everything went as it normally does:
Turned out just horrible. I don't always put wine in the sauce so that isn't the problem. The onion and garlic were fine. Herbs fresh and flavorful. Ground meat as usual, nothing odd there. That leaves the tomatoes. But what was wrong with the tomatoes?
I preserve tomatoes 3 different ways. Cook some down pretty far then bag the results to go in the freezer. This I did with the fruit we grew down on the terraces. The remaining yield is made into stewed tomatoes and chunky tomatoes, which are then pressure canned. I normally use one jar of stewed and one jar of chunky but, for no apparent reason, put two bags of the frozen in on top of the canned. The result was so bad that DS3 wouldn't eat it. It's back on the stovetop while I try to figure out some way to rescue it as I really hate wasting food. It's bland, watery and simply has no "oomph." Phooey.
That, in and of itself, was disheartening enough. Adding insult to injury was the fact that, like a moron, I used salted butter for the garlic bread and it turned out so salty it's inedible. Can't even give it to the birds.
Like I said, epic FAIL.
* Told you it was very basic.
Yesterday turned out to be a long, loooooong day. We picked up and installed the new dishwasher. The installation started oddly as the instructions are packed inside the machine but the door wouldn't open. Since there were no instructions anywhere in sight, I looked up the Maytag site and they did have .pdf copies of all necessary stuff. Turns out, unbeknownst to all but actual repair people, the door is held shut by a piece of metal underneath it that must be removed before you can get to the instructions. Uh HUH. I see. After taking the 90° brass fitting and power supply cord from the old dishwasher, Himself proceeded to wire, attach and finagle things until, at long last, the machine was installed and working fine. Then we discovered that, even after thinking of absolutely everything, the silverware drawer won't open because the dishwasher can't be flush-mounted. OK, switch drawers around, no problem.
This was a good opportunity to go through my utensil drawers and sort them out. Have the contents in two tubs and, if I don't use them within 6 months, out they all go! woowoo.
Then scrub the kitchen cabinets and floor, clean out under the fridge, haul about 7 loads of laundry up and down, monitor a trip to an emergency room 100+ miles away made by DS1 and DIL, after which time it was nigh on supper time. Digging around in the freezer brought no brainstorms, we have no prepared soup so soups and grilled cheese was out. What to do?
Ahhhhh! The old stand-by, pasta. Well, it's usually a standby.
This time it turned out SO bad words fail me. Everything went as it normally does:
- onions
- garlic
- tomato paste
- tomatoes
- herbs
- salt
- pepper
- etc etc etc*
Turned out just horrible. I don't always put wine in the sauce so that isn't the problem. The onion and garlic were fine. Herbs fresh and flavorful. Ground meat as usual, nothing odd there. That leaves the tomatoes. But what was wrong with the tomatoes?
I preserve tomatoes 3 different ways. Cook some down pretty far then bag the results to go in the freezer. This I did with the fruit we grew down on the terraces. The remaining yield is made into stewed tomatoes and chunky tomatoes, which are then pressure canned. I normally use one jar of stewed and one jar of chunky but, for no apparent reason, put two bags of the frozen in on top of the canned. The result was so bad that DS3 wouldn't eat it. It's back on the stovetop while I try to figure out some way to rescue it as I really hate wasting food. It's bland, watery and simply has no "oomph." Phooey.
That, in and of itself, was disheartening enough. Adding insult to injury was the fact that, like a moron, I used salted butter for the garlic bread and it turned out so salty it's inedible. Can't even give it to the birds.
Like I said, epic FAIL.
* Told you it was very basic.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Format changes
I am working on standardizing recipe posts to ensure continuity throughout Curmudgeon's Kitchen. The changes currently being made may not be permanent. Have been looking through numerous other food blogs and noting what works for me and what doesn't.
To speed loading of pages, I am not including lots of photos, feeds or handy-dandy gizmos. I don't know about you, but sitting waiting endlessly for pages to load annoys me.
If I make a change that helps you, please let me know. Let me know what works and what doesn't, suggestions for improving clarity are welcome.
Thank you for visiting my Kitchen. Please come back soon.
QDM
To speed loading of pages, I am not including lots of photos, feeds or handy-dandy gizmos. I don't know about you, but sitting waiting endlessly for pages to load annoys me.
If I make a change that helps you, please let me know. Let me know what works and what doesn't, suggestions for improving clarity are welcome.
Thank you for visiting my Kitchen. Please come back soon.
QDM
King Ranch Chicken
King Ranch recipes vary as much as individual cooks vary, from the simplest possible method to the more complex "scratch" recipes. How the dish is put together is decided, not only by the cook's level of skill, but aesthetic and "mouth-feel" preferences. There isn't much a cook can do to make it taste hideous, no matter what it looks or "feels" like. With that in mind, I have been messing round with a variety of methods and ingredients, trying to find that "ideal" combination or flavor, aroma, appearance, "feel" and ease.
The most common recipes seem to have several things in common:
Now, honestly, this will work. It's fast, it's easy and, for a tired or unskilled cook, it will work just fine. The only problem, in my opinion, is that while it will taste fine, it looks weird and feels gelatinous in the mouth. I find both unappealing and blame that on the canned soup.
Unfried corn tortillas are a problem, too. They are basically raw and when used in that state become kind of slimy. They also don't cook up well and the dish will often end up tasting strongly of corn meal, which isn't really the desired outcome. I'm not even commenting much on bagged tortilla chips, except I tried them and didn't like the result in the least. They were just kind of "there," if you get my drift.** No contribution to the flavor of the dish and the consistency of the chips cooked in the mixture mentioned above was, well, gross. The outcome might have been at least acceptable if they had maintained a modicum of crispness (which is not expected of the tortillas when used) but they went flabby and tasteless. Ick.
My suggestions to detour around these difficulties involves a bit more work but, for us, that extra time is worth every minute. Here is my middle-of-the-road procedure which will feed 4 to 6 people until they're stuffed, it's neither terribly time-consuming nor extremely simple:
Sauce Preparation:
Over low heat in a large heavy pot, heat the butter or oil. Add the onion, sweat until soft. Add the chili peppers and bell pepper and continue softening. Use your nose to tell when to add the chili and cumin, the aromas of the veg should blend, when they do, add and stir well. By the time the onion and peppers are soft, the chili and cumin will have released their aroma and flavor which infuses the vegetables. At this point, add the garlic, stirring well. Raise the heat slightly, continue to stir and add the tomatoes. Simmer to allow the combination to thicken slightly. Remove from heat.
Combine to make a roux, oil first, flour next, stirring like mad until the floury taste is gone, slowly add the broth and stir, once again like mad, until smooth. Allow this to cool slightly, then stir your basic sauce into the vegetables.
Preheat oven to 350F.
Lightly grease a 13 x 9 inch casserole or a 3 quart casserole.
Tortilla preparation
Heat oil in a heavy pan, keep depth of oil sufficient to allow the tortillas to float or they will stick to the pan bottom and rip. Fry each tortilla until it puffs, flip, fry until it puffs again. This will be just enough time to cook the tortillas but not to the point they are getting crisp. Drain on paper towels or a cotton cloth.
Assemble dish:
Layer 6 of the cooked tortillas in the pregreased pan. Place one half of the chicken on the tortillas, pour half of the sauce over. Add half the cheese. Repeat. Bake at 350 until browned and bubbly. This will take 35 to 40 minutes in a 13 x 9 pan, up to 2 hours in a deep casserole.
Remove from oven, let stand for up to 30 minutes for the flavor to develop and the texture to improve.
*I object, on principle, to those canned cream soups. I confess to using them every so often when pressed for time or if I'm just tired or not feeling well. They can be a godsend for inexperienced cooks who haven't learned to make a roux or white sauce but if you know how to do those simple basics, it's better to take the extra time and effort for a much better outcome.
**If you have no time, no real tortillas or are just too slothful to fry something, use the things. Even better, just don't make the recipe at all until you get something better, eh?
A note on my preparation of the chicken: We rarely have enough chicken left over from a meal to make this dish. Even though I do prefer a combination of dark and light meat, I usually find myself using boneless chicken breasts. I don't like them much because they don't have hardly any flavor by themselves. To add a little interest to the proceedings, I use my stovetop cast iron grill and sear them well, leaving lovely stripes. A possibility would be adding cumin, chili powder, garlic, onion, whatever you think would work, to the breasts before grilling them.
The most common recipes seem to have several things in common:
- Cubed cooked chicken
- onion
- garlic
- bell pepper
- cheese, either jack or cheddar
- tomatoes
- chili powder
- chicken broth
- corn tortillas
- various kinds of cream of crap soup* (pardon for calling it that but, hey! It's nasty stuff no matter what you do with it.)
Now, honestly, this will work. It's fast, it's easy and, for a tired or unskilled cook, it will work just fine. The only problem, in my opinion, is that while it will taste fine, it looks weird and feels gelatinous in the mouth. I find both unappealing and blame that on the canned soup.
Unfried corn tortillas are a problem, too. They are basically raw and when used in that state become kind of slimy. They also don't cook up well and the dish will often end up tasting strongly of corn meal, which isn't really the desired outcome. I'm not even commenting much on bagged tortilla chips, except I tried them and didn't like the result in the least. They were just kind of "there," if you get my drift.** No contribution to the flavor of the dish and the consistency of the chips cooked in the mixture mentioned above was, well, gross. The outcome might have been at least acceptable if they had maintained a modicum of crispness (which is not expected of the tortillas when used) but they went flabby and tasteless. Ick.
My suggestions to detour around these difficulties involves a bit more work but, for us, that extra time is worth every minute. Here is my middle-of-the-road procedure which will feed 4 to 6 people until they're stuffed, it's neither terribly time-consuming nor extremely simple:
Sauce Preparation:
- 3 tablespoons butter or cooking oil
- 1 very large onion, coarse chop
- 1/2 cup diced jalapenos or a milder hot pepper if you have tender mouths
- 1 large green bell pepper, seeded, coarse chop
- 2 tablespoons chili powder
- 1 tablespoon cumin (change the proportion of the spices to suit yourself. We like spicy and like cumin.)
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 quart canned tomatoes, chunk are best but stewed will work
- (some folks like celery, mushrooms and various fresh chilis in the sauce. Go ahead and try it.)
Over low heat in a large heavy pot, heat the butter or oil. Add the onion, sweat until soft. Add the chili peppers and bell pepper and continue softening. Use your nose to tell when to add the chili and cumin, the aromas of the veg should blend, when they do, add and stir well. By the time the onion and peppers are soft, the chili and cumin will have released their aroma and flavor which infuses the vegetables. At this point, add the garlic, stirring well. Raise the heat slightly, continue to stir and add the tomatoes. Simmer to allow the combination to thicken slightly. Remove from heat.
- 3 tablespoons butter
- 3 tablespoons flour
- 1 cup chicken broth, or enough to work the roux
Combine to make a roux, oil first, flour next, stirring like mad until the floury taste is gone, slowly add the broth and stir, once again like mad, until smooth. Allow this to cool slightly, then stir your basic sauce into the vegetables.
Preheat oven to 350F.
Lightly grease a 13 x 9 inch casserole or a 3 quart casserole.
Tortilla preparation
- Frying oil, enough to float a corn tortilla
- 12 raw corn tortillas, white or yellow is your call (the yellow ones seem to hold together better than the white ones)
Heat oil in a heavy pan, keep depth of oil sufficient to allow the tortillas to float or they will stick to the pan bottom and rip. Fry each tortilla until it puffs, flip, fry until it puffs again. This will be just enough time to cook the tortillas but not to the point they are getting crisp. Drain on paper towels or a cotton cloth.
Assemble dish:
- 3 cups cooked chicken, cubed less than 1/2 in size
- 3 cups shredded cheese, monterey jack and cheddar are good combination (if all you have is processed cheese, use it but it won't taste as good.)
Layer 6 of the cooked tortillas in the pregreased pan. Place one half of the chicken on the tortillas, pour half of the sauce over. Add half the cheese. Repeat. Bake at 350 until browned and bubbly. This will take 35 to 40 minutes in a 13 x 9 pan, up to 2 hours in a deep casserole.
Remove from oven, let stand for up to 30 minutes for the flavor to develop and the texture to improve.
*I object, on principle, to those canned cream soups. I confess to using them every so often when pressed for time or if I'm just tired or not feeling well. They can be a godsend for inexperienced cooks who haven't learned to make a roux or white sauce but if you know how to do those simple basics, it's better to take the extra time and effort for a much better outcome.
**If you have no time, no real tortillas or are just too slothful to fry something, use the things. Even better, just don't make the recipe at all until you get something better, eh?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Skunky beer and bad food
We don't go to a lot of dinner parties or parties of any kind, truth be told. There are some places we love to go and there are some places we would avoid like the plague if it were possible.
One of our favorite outings is held every year by a good friend who gets together a mixed lot of guests, cooks jerk chicken and sides of all kinds. It's held in June in his backyard and eagerly anticipated by all who are lucky enough to be invited. His jerk is wicked good and although he gave me a list of ingredients, he doesn't measure things, and I have never quite duplicated the results he gets. Combine all that stuff, hot peppers, etc etc etc, dump all your chicken in a 5 gallon bucket, pour over the marinade. Cover and let set for 2 to 3 days in the fridge or somewhere cool. The morning of the feed, he removes the chicken from the marinade, drains it well and lets it dry. While the chicken is sitting to air dry, he strains the marinade, puts it in a canning kettle and cooks it down to use a mop. It's always great and he doesn't serve skunky beer with it!
Then there are those places that send chills up the spine of a prospective guest. It's unfortunate that so many of our relatives are bad cooks because you just can't avoid going to their places for meals. We've been tempted to get the greasy gravy overlords those funny looking strainer things with the spout on the bottom to get rid of the 2 inches of grease on the surface of the gravy. It's hard to resist putting out the grill before the chief whang leather chef turns those lovely porterhouse steaks into plastic, grey, dry and tasteless. That is if you manage to actually chew the stuff. The Thanksgiving feasts where we'd be very thankful indeed if we didn't have to eat that stuff and pretend like it tasted good. How many servings of runny mashed potatoes, over-sweet cranberry relish, dry turkey and greasy-crust pie can a person be expected to eat in one lifetime? Poker parties with mini-sausages stewing in a concoction of grape jelly and ketchup? Mercy... Cheese dips made with a whole log of processed American cheese and a couple of cans of condensed chicken gumbo soup? Darned stuff looks like dog barf and smells even worse. There have also been regrettable instances of not knowing quite what that stuff on the plate is. This is disconcerting, at best, because the person serving it is obviously quite proud of their creation and is expecting raves and requests for the recipe. If someone is foolhardy enough to request the recipe the response is likely to be: "Ah, I didn't use a recipe," chef will exclaim gaily, with a wave of the hand, "I just tossed a few things in the slow cooker." As the kid says, "fo' shizzle." The issue of skunky beer is another one of those seemingly unavoidable things. Beer in clear glass bottles that has been chilled, warmed thoroughly then rechilled? Oh, save me, please. If a guest doesn't wish to offend the host, what is the proper way to handle the stuff? Drink it gingerly? Say "thank you" but my (ulcer, head cold, sinus infection, abscessed tooth, insert your own malady) is acting up and I must abstain. If it's obvious there is nothing whatsoever wrong with a guest, I suggest watching closely for an opportunity to either pour some down a drain on a trip to the bathroom or get rid of it by pouring it into a potted plant. Of course, there is always the real possibility that the host with gleefully present you with more of the vile brew.
Having grown up in the 60s, I have some really awful food memories, many of which involve gelatin of some sort. Orange gelatin with sliced pimento-stuffed olives? Looks like eyeballs staring up at you from the bed of iceberg lettuce. Green gelatin with shredded carrots. Green gelatin with cottage cheese, for cryin' out loud! Strangely constructed dishes whose main ingredient seemed to be pork and bean and weiners. Spaghetti cooked in tomato sauce with absolutely no seasoning but salt? Then there are artificial whipped toppings. That stuff should be on the EPA's hazardous substance list. A generation raised on what is basically artificially flavored whipped shortening might appreciate the flavor and texture of real whipped cream but it's as likely they won't. (Heavy cream isn't cheap, true, so go out and collect cans or something and just try the real thing. Please?)
When we have a opportunity to go dine somewhere, without being required to bring food, and have a good meal with a decent beverage, we consider ourselves truly blessed. Shame it doesn't happen more often.
One of our favorite outings is held every year by a good friend who gets together a mixed lot of guests, cooks jerk chicken and sides of all kinds. It's held in June in his backyard and eagerly anticipated by all who are lucky enough to be invited. His jerk is wicked good and although he gave me a list of ingredients, he doesn't measure things, and I have never quite duplicated the results he gets. Combine all that stuff, hot peppers, etc etc etc, dump all your chicken in a 5 gallon bucket, pour over the marinade. Cover and let set for 2 to 3 days in the fridge or somewhere cool. The morning of the feed, he removes the chicken from the marinade, drains it well and lets it dry. While the chicken is sitting to air dry, he strains the marinade, puts it in a canning kettle and cooks it down to use a mop. It's always great and he doesn't serve skunky beer with it!
Then there are those places that send chills up the spine of a prospective guest. It's unfortunate that so many of our relatives are bad cooks because you just can't avoid going to their places for meals. We've been tempted to get the greasy gravy overlords those funny looking strainer things with the spout on the bottom to get rid of the 2 inches of grease on the surface of the gravy. It's hard to resist putting out the grill before the chief whang leather chef turns those lovely porterhouse steaks into plastic, grey, dry and tasteless. That is if you manage to actually chew the stuff. The Thanksgiving feasts where we'd be very thankful indeed if we didn't have to eat that stuff and pretend like it tasted good. How many servings of runny mashed potatoes, over-sweet cranberry relish, dry turkey and greasy-crust pie can a person be expected to eat in one lifetime? Poker parties with mini-sausages stewing in a concoction of grape jelly and ketchup? Mercy... Cheese dips made with a whole log of processed American cheese and a couple of cans of condensed chicken gumbo soup? Darned stuff looks like dog barf and smells even worse. There have also been regrettable instances of not knowing quite what that stuff on the plate is. This is disconcerting, at best, because the person serving it is obviously quite proud of their creation and is expecting raves and requests for the recipe. If someone is foolhardy enough to request the recipe the response is likely to be: "Ah, I didn't use a recipe," chef will exclaim gaily, with a wave of the hand, "I just tossed a few things in the slow cooker." As the kid says, "fo' shizzle." The issue of skunky beer is another one of those seemingly unavoidable things. Beer in clear glass bottles that has been chilled, warmed thoroughly then rechilled? Oh, save me, please. If a guest doesn't wish to offend the host, what is the proper way to handle the stuff? Drink it gingerly? Say "thank you" but my (ulcer, head cold, sinus infection, abscessed tooth, insert your own malady) is acting up and I must abstain. If it's obvious there is nothing whatsoever wrong with a guest, I suggest watching closely for an opportunity to either pour some down a drain on a trip to the bathroom or get rid of it by pouring it into a potted plant. Of course, there is always the real possibility that the host with gleefully present you with more of the vile brew.
Having grown up in the 60s, I have some really awful food memories, many of which involve gelatin of some sort. Orange gelatin with sliced pimento-stuffed olives? Looks like eyeballs staring up at you from the bed of iceberg lettuce. Green gelatin with shredded carrots. Green gelatin with cottage cheese, for cryin' out loud! Strangely constructed dishes whose main ingredient seemed to be pork and bean and weiners. Spaghetti cooked in tomato sauce with absolutely no seasoning but salt? Then there are artificial whipped toppings. That stuff should be on the EPA's hazardous substance list. A generation raised on what is basically artificially flavored whipped shortening might appreciate the flavor and texture of real whipped cream but it's as likely they won't. (Heavy cream isn't cheap, true, so go out and collect cans or something and just try the real thing. Please?)
When we have a opportunity to go dine somewhere, without being required to bring food, and have a good meal with a decent beverage, we consider ourselves truly blessed. Shame it doesn't happen more often.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
#*@&#^$&*@(#*@#&$%
Aaaaarrrrggghhhh!
Grrrrrrrr!
ROWR!
Yeah, I am totally and absolutely pissed off.
For the 6th month in a row, the taters for Gratin Jurasien will simply NOT GET DONE!
Now, dagnabit, they were thinly sliced, soaked in changes of cold water and "pre-cooked" in a saucepan. And They Are Still Not Getting Tender. Same thing with russets, reds, boilers, yellows, every tater I have tried.
This is just so awful! I have been making Julia's gratin for years and have never had this kind of problem with the potatoes until the last 6 months or so. Is it the taters? Is it me? Is it the oven?
I don't know what it is but this problem has ruined quite a few meals. It has also ruined my peace of mind, too. How can I possibly make a good gratin when the taters simply will not cook?
If someone has an idea, I would really appreciate hearing from you. Puhleeeze?
Grrrrrrrr!
ROWR!
Yeah, I am totally and absolutely pissed off.
For the 6th month in a row, the taters for Gratin Jurasien will simply NOT GET DONE!
Now, dagnabit, they were thinly sliced, soaked in changes of cold water and "pre-cooked" in a saucepan. And They Are Still Not Getting Tender. Same thing with russets, reds, boilers, yellows, every tater I have tried.
This is just so awful! I have been making Julia's gratin for years and have never had this kind of problem with the potatoes until the last 6 months or so. Is it the taters? Is it me? Is it the oven?
I don't know what it is but this problem has ruined quite a few meals. It has also ruined my peace of mind, too. How can I possibly make a good gratin when the taters simply will not cook?
If someone has an idea, I would really appreciate hearing from you. Puhleeeze?
We're now a Foodie Blogroll member!
All right! Curmudgeon's Kitchen has been approved as a member of the Foodie Blogroll!
When I submitted this blog for inclusion I didn't think there was a chance it would be approved, but it has been. It's kind of strange because I have never really thought of myself as a Foodie. According to the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, I guess I am:
Or, Dictionary.com:
DD tells me I am a "food snob," whatever that is. Does a food snob insist on real organic, when available? Buy a red bell pepper and roast it rather than getting pre-roasted ones in a jar? Avoid high fructose corn syrup, MSG, free glutamic acids and as many chemicals, additives and colorings as possible? Use butter rather than margarine? Render lard for baking rather than using hydrogenated oils like shortening? Prefer actual Parmesan reggiano to that stuff in a green can?
If so, yes, I am a food snob. I would rather go to the work of making meals from scratch, with healthy and natural ingredients, than "enjoy" the convenience of boxed, frozen or pre-prepared food. Even when I worked full time, we still managed to eat healthy. It takes work and planning but can be done.
In the past we faced the challenge of feeding 5 kids and a lot of their friends on next to nothing, financially. So, we took the best way out, we grew a huge garden. We had most everything that could be grown up here that we needed, right there in canning jars. We shoveled cow manure, we weeded, we talked to the plants (and ourselves, too) We also froze what we could, the things that didn't can well, hoping and praying for no power failures.
Many, many years ago, I couldn't boil water. My mother wanted nobody in her kitchen and I never learned the first thing about cooking. I could wash dishes like a pro but cook? No. After I married the first time, it became painfully obvious that I had to learn. Learn I have.
My journey started in the mid-80s when I borrowed a textbook from an acquaintance who was in culinary school. I was bored with insipid food, bland roasts, just tired of trying to figure out how things worked, why they worked one way but not another. Tired of bottled "cooking wine" with a level of salt close to the salinity of the Dead Sea. Tired of mixes, boxed stuff and junk. Introductory and somewhat perfunctory, it did explain a bit about the chemistry of cooking. From there, we have gone on... Julia Child, Harold McGee, Lydia Bastianich, Rick Bayless... to cold smoking, braising, roasting, sauteeing, sweating...
So, here we are, an official member of the Foodie Blogroll and I am very proud and happy to be there. And here.
When I submitted this blog for inclusion I didn't think there was a chance it would be approved, but it has been. It's kind of strange because I have never really thought of myself as a Foodie. According to the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, I guess I am:
A person who has an ardent or refined interest in food; a gourmet
Or, Dictionary.com:
a person keenly interested in food, esp. in eating or cooking
DD tells me I am a "food snob," whatever that is. Does a food snob insist on real organic, when available? Buy a red bell pepper and roast it rather than getting pre-roasted ones in a jar? Avoid high fructose corn syrup, MSG, free glutamic acids and as many chemicals, additives and colorings as possible? Use butter rather than margarine? Render lard for baking rather than using hydrogenated oils like shortening? Prefer actual Parmesan reggiano to that stuff in a green can?
If so, yes, I am a food snob. I would rather go to the work of making meals from scratch, with healthy and natural ingredients, than "enjoy" the convenience of boxed, frozen or pre-prepared food. Even when I worked full time, we still managed to eat healthy. It takes work and planning but can be done.
In the past we faced the challenge of feeding 5 kids and a lot of their friends on next to nothing, financially. So, we took the best way out, we grew a huge garden. We had most everything that could be grown up here that we needed, right there in canning jars. We shoveled cow manure, we weeded, we talked to the plants (and ourselves, too) We also froze what we could, the things that didn't can well, hoping and praying for no power failures.
Many, many years ago, I couldn't boil water. My mother wanted nobody in her kitchen and I never learned the first thing about cooking. I could wash dishes like a pro but cook? No. After I married the first time, it became painfully obvious that I had to learn. Learn I have.
My journey started in the mid-80s when I borrowed a textbook from an acquaintance who was in culinary school. I was bored with insipid food, bland roasts, just tired of trying to figure out how things worked, why they worked one way but not another. Tired of bottled "cooking wine" with a level of salt close to the salinity of the Dead Sea. Tired of mixes, boxed stuff and junk. Introductory and somewhat perfunctory, it did explain a bit about the chemistry of cooking. From there, we have gone on... Julia Child, Harold McGee, Lydia Bastianich, Rick Bayless... to cold smoking, braising, roasting, sauteeing, sweating...
So, here we are, an official member of the Foodie Blogroll and I am very proud and happy to be there. And here.
"Marzetti's" Spaghetti Pie
The Joy of Cooking is one of my favorite cookbooks for everyday, simple food or what Himself calls "real food." From spiced tea to a form of cassoulet, pretty much anything you might want is there. That explains why the book is approximately the size of Gray's Anatomy. Sometimes the dishes are so simple that they are pretty bland. We found that to be the case with the spaghetti pie recipe. As written, the only herb included was a teaspoon of dried oregano and the amount of garlic was only 2 teaspoons. This to balance and enhance a pound and a half of beef, a large onion and43 ounces of tomatoes? I think not.
I started the recipe just as written but as it simmered it became more bland, developing no flavor. Taking a page from Lydia Bastianich, I added a number of flavorings and aromatics. Tasting, adding, adjusting, tasting again produced a very nicely balanced dish. The original recipe also called for a full pound of cooked pasta, but we only used 1/2 pound. Note that the herbs are dried in this version, change the amounts to your particular taste and add salt and pepper, as needed.
Here's my version of the spaghetti pie, which will serve 4 really hungry people or 8 not-so-hungry folks.
Main ingredient preparation:
Sweat the onion in a heavy pan, using either olive oil or butter. When onion has softened but before it browns, add the meats. Break beef and pork apart with a spatula and cook just until pink. Stir in the garlic and steep until aroma is released.
Add all the above, including half of the juice from the peeled tomatoes, to the meat combination. Stir well, bring to boil and reduce to simmer. Cover loosely, stirring and tasting occasionally. This can be simmered anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours, depending on how much time the cook has. Adjust flavorings as it cooks, adding herbs or aromatics, such as onion or garlic powder, as it cooks. Add remaining juice if the mixture begins to stick or becomes too thick.
Preheat oven to 350.
Butter a 13 x 9 inch casserole.
Assemble the dish:
Remove meat mixture from heat, take out the bay leaf and stir in the cooked pasta and cheese. Turn the mixture into the casserole and top with:
Melt 2 tablespoons butter and drizzle over the topping. Bake until dish is bubbling around the edges and has browned nicely. I found that 350 didn't brown the topping to my satisfaction so I turned the oven up to 375 for about 20 minutes, which did the trick.
Remove the casserole from the oven and allow to sit a minimum of 5 minutes. Serve with crusty bread and a salad for a hearty and tasty winter meal.
I started the recipe just as written but as it simmered it became more bland, developing no flavor. Taking a page from Lydia Bastianich, I added a number of flavorings and aromatics. Tasting, adding, adjusting, tasting again produced a very nicely balanced dish. The original recipe also called for a full pound of cooked pasta, but we only used 1/2 pound. Note that the herbs are dried in this version, change the amounts to your particular taste and add salt and pepper, as needed.
Here's my version of the spaghetti pie, which will serve 4 really hungry people or 8 not-so-hungry folks.
Main ingredient preparation:
- 1 pound ground beef
- 1/2 pound ground pork
- 1 large onion, coarse chop
- 3 cloves garlic, mashed or minced.
Sweat the onion in a heavy pan, using either olive oil or butter. When onion has softened but before it browns, add the meats. Break beef and pork apart with a spatula and cook just until pink. Stir in the garlic and steep until aroma is released.
- 1 28 ounce can crushed tomatoes
- 1 15 ounce can whole peeled tomatoes, quartered, juice reserved
- 1/2 cup dry red wine
- 4 tablespoons tomato paste
- 1 tablespoon oregano
- 1 tablespoon thyme
- 1 tablespoon basil
- 2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
- 1 tablespoon crushed anise seed
- 1 bay leaf
Add all the above, including half of the juice from the peeled tomatoes, to the meat combination. Stir well, bring to boil and reduce to simmer. Cover loosely, stirring and tasting occasionally. This can be simmered anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours, depending on how much time the cook has. Adjust flavorings as it cooks, adding herbs or aromatics, such as onion or garlic powder, as it cooks. Add remaining juice if the mixture begins to stick or becomes too thick.
Preheat oven to 350.
Butter a 13 x 9 inch casserole.
Assemble the dish:
- 1/2 pound small dry pasta, mini penne, rigatoni, anything you like, cooked al dente and drained
- 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar
- 1 cup shredded or sliced mozzarella
Remove meat mixture from heat, take out the bay leaf and stir in the cooked pasta and cheese. Turn the mixture into the casserole and top with:
- 1 cup bread crumbs
- 2 cups shredded sharp cheddar
Melt 2 tablespoons butter and drizzle over the topping. Bake until dish is bubbling around the edges and has browned nicely. I found that 350 didn't brown the topping to my satisfaction so I turned the oven up to 375 for about 20 minutes, which did the trick.
Remove the casserole from the oven and allow to sit a minimum of 5 minutes. Serve with crusty bread and a salad for a hearty and tasty winter meal.
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