I have only two tablespoons of demi glacé left.
This is a true emergency. A honest to goodness really and truly emergency. Pardon me for panicking.
The locker is saving knuckles and joints for me and I do have pork and poultry bones in the freezer, ready to go. The problem that presents itself in my tiny kitchen?
It takes around 7 to 10 days to complete a batch. I start with well over 20 pounds of beef bones which must be roasted in small enough batches to get done right. The other bones must be roasted. Vegetables have to be prepared and roasted. The roasting pan must be deglazed numerous times. All that takes up a full working day and makes a HUGE mess.
The final result goes into every last stock pot I own. That initial cooking process takes up the cooktop for a period of about 3 days. This annoys the denizens of the Homestead as it really leaves only one useful burner which happens to be a simmer burner. By the time things cook down so only one huge pot is needed, the Herd has become restless and more than a tad cranky.
We need that demi. Really, we do. I suppose I should just buck up and get to it.
Monday.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Apologies and a Stuffed Mushrooms recipe
I promised cassoulet and do have the ingredients, with the exception of the sausages and wine. It simply occurred to me a few moments ago that it will take 2 or 3 days to finish. Even as the confit is draining it's lovely fat into a bowl, I remembered that Himself has promised our presence at a Super Bowl party Sunday.
I don't mind football, really, as long as I don't have to watch it. So attending a party celebrating a bunch of big guys running around with a ball, smashing into each other, couldn't really be called a highlight of my week. I don't play poker, either. I am totally unable to remember the rules of the game from one hand to the next and it's pretty much guaranteed that the other players will become increasingly annoyed with my obtuseness, likely in direct relation to the amount of booze they consume. Never the less, I'll go.
I do suspect that the only reason the host of this party invites me along with Himself is because I usually end up pulling his cooking chestnuts out of the fire for him. Each year his culinary reach far exceeds his grasp. Note I didn't actually say he can't cook, it's just that he can't cook at the level he tries to attain each year. He does great with simple things like loose meat sandwiches or chili but get much beyond that and he is well and truly over his head. This year I'm thankful that potential messes will be limited to oyster stew and stuffed mushrooms. How can you go wrong with that?
OK, yeah, a lot of ways. Mostly involving bad oysters. He has assured Himself that he will be purchasing pre-cooked oysters which, although much better from a food safety standpoint, doesn't body well for the stew. I suppose I could have offered to go to the market for him but he didn't ask and I do have other things to do. We'll see how it goes. I may get a small container of the guest of honor for the soup, pre-clean them and take them along, just in case.
This brings us to those mushrooms. Stuffed mushrooms of most any type aren't hard. Some involve numerous steps but the preparation and general cooking isn't a big deal. The problem with Host doing the recipe he has planned is simply that of total ignorance and the lack of a food processor. He is unfamiliar with the process of roasting red bell peppers and couldn't find the ones in jars at the market. Questions about substituting sour cream for the cream cheese brought a small silence on my part, then an assurance that he didn't want to do that. Just use the regular cream cheese, it will be fine. Cut those garlic cloves up into the tiniest pieces you can manage. When you do find the peppers, cut them up into tiny, tiny pieces or they won't incorporate as necessary. OK, yes, go ahead and use that "parmesan" you have in the green box in the cupboard. (forgive me for I have sinned.) No cayenne? *sigh* Do you have chili powder? Go ahead. You don't need to cook the mushrooms, just make sure they are nice and clean. Take off the stems and remove any dark gills with a spoon. Either fill the mushrooms with a pastry tube or use a spoon. No biggie.
I really have no idea how this particular recipe could be messed up nor do I know what else Host is planning on putting on his buffet. Throw it to the gods of football parties and don't worry. Now, here is the recipe for the mushrooms:
Roast red pepper stuffed mushrooms
yield is around 16, depending on mushroom size
8 ounces real cream cheese, softened
1/2 red bell pepper, roasted and peeled, 1/4 cup reserved
2 tablespoons fresh grated Parmesan
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 pound fresh white mushrooms, cleaned, stems and gills removed.
Place all ingredients but the mushrooms in bowl of food processor with wing blade installed. Pulse until all ingredients are well blended, the peppers are no longer visible and the mixture is getting slightly fluffy.
Using a pastry bag with a large tip, fill each mushroom cap with the mixture.
Garnish as desired.
I should note that my food processor died over a year ago. When I make this recipe I cut the cheese up very finely before softening it, mash the minced garlic and peppers. That way I can use my electric mixer and it comes together nicely. The garlic and roasted peppers can also be pureed, sort of, in one of those shrunk-down versions of a processor called a mini-prep. These are tasty mushrooms and go over well for something so easy to prepare. Not pricey, either. That's always a good thing.
Eat on. The promised cassoulet will appear, in due time. Promise.
I don't mind football, really, as long as I don't have to watch it. So attending a party celebrating a bunch of big guys running around with a ball, smashing into each other, couldn't really be called a highlight of my week. I don't play poker, either. I am totally unable to remember the rules of the game from one hand to the next and it's pretty much guaranteed that the other players will become increasingly annoyed with my obtuseness, likely in direct relation to the amount of booze they consume. Never the less, I'll go.
I do suspect that the only reason the host of this party invites me along with Himself is because I usually end up pulling his cooking chestnuts out of the fire for him. Each year his culinary reach far exceeds his grasp. Note I didn't actually say he can't cook, it's just that he can't cook at the level he tries to attain each year. He does great with simple things like loose meat sandwiches or chili but get much beyond that and he is well and truly over his head. This year I'm thankful that potential messes will be limited to oyster stew and stuffed mushrooms. How can you go wrong with that?
OK, yeah, a lot of ways. Mostly involving bad oysters. He has assured Himself that he will be purchasing pre-cooked oysters which, although much better from a food safety standpoint, doesn't body well for the stew. I suppose I could have offered to go to the market for him but he didn't ask and I do have other things to do. We'll see how it goes. I may get a small container of the guest of honor for the soup, pre-clean them and take them along, just in case.
This brings us to those mushrooms. Stuffed mushrooms of most any type aren't hard. Some involve numerous steps but the preparation and general cooking isn't a big deal. The problem with Host doing the recipe he has planned is simply that of total ignorance and the lack of a food processor. He is unfamiliar with the process of roasting red bell peppers and couldn't find the ones in jars at the market. Questions about substituting sour cream for the cream cheese brought a small silence on my part, then an assurance that he didn't want to do that. Just use the regular cream cheese, it will be fine. Cut those garlic cloves up into the tiniest pieces you can manage. When you do find the peppers, cut them up into tiny, tiny pieces or they won't incorporate as necessary. OK, yes, go ahead and use that "parmesan" you have in the green box in the cupboard. (forgive me for I have sinned.) No cayenne? *sigh* Do you have chili powder? Go ahead. You don't need to cook the mushrooms, just make sure they are nice and clean. Take off the stems and remove any dark gills with a spoon. Either fill the mushrooms with a pastry tube or use a spoon. No biggie.
I really have no idea how this particular recipe could be messed up nor do I know what else Host is planning on putting on his buffet. Throw it to the gods of football parties and don't worry. Now, here is the recipe for the mushrooms:
Roast red pepper stuffed mushrooms
yield is around 16, depending on mushroom size
8 ounces real cream cheese, softened
1/2 red bell pepper, roasted and peeled, 1/4 cup reserved
2 tablespoons fresh grated Parmesan
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 pound fresh white mushrooms, cleaned, stems and gills removed.
Place all ingredients but the mushrooms in bowl of food processor with wing blade installed. Pulse until all ingredients are well blended, the peppers are no longer visible and the mixture is getting slightly fluffy.
Using a pastry bag with a large tip, fill each mushroom cap with the mixture.
Garnish as desired.
I should note that my food processor died over a year ago. When I make this recipe I cut the cheese up very finely before softening it, mash the minced garlic and peppers. That way I can use my electric mixer and it comes together nicely. The garlic and roasted peppers can also be pureed, sort of, in one of those shrunk-down versions of a processor called a mini-prep. These are tasty mushrooms and go over well for something so easy to prepare. Not pricey, either. That's always a good thing.
Eat on. The promised cassoulet will appear, in due time. Promise.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Meatball Soup
This is tasty stuff even if the concept seemed a bit odd at first. Then Italian Wedding Soup came to mind and, since I adore that, I figured this one should be pretty darned tasty. Turns out it is. It can be a simple as you want or as complex as your ability and imagination allow. I like something in the middle. Besides, even though I will agree that fresh pasta is the best, I'm too lazy to make it. If you like, add carrots and celery and green beans to the soup. A Parmesan rind would be a nice addition, too. It's all good.
Let's get started...
48 ounces canned tomatoes or the equivalent in peeled fresh tomato royale
1 large red onion, medium dice (half for the soup, half for the meatballs)
3 garlic cloves, minced (2 for the soup, 1 for the meatballs)
1/4 cup green and red bell peppers, fine chop (optional)
Anise, thyme, basil, red pepper flakes and oregano to taste
bay leaf
2 cups beef stock (more if needed to thin soup)
2 cups water
Put all that stuff (minus the bits for the meatballs) in a medium stock pot. Stir it up well, bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer.
I just put mine on at noon for a meal that will be this evening around 6 p.m. This is what it looks like at this point:
During the course of the afternoon, I will check and stir this every half hour or so. If needed, I will add more beef stock. Water would do fine, as well. Come to think of it, if I had a half cup or so of a dry red or white wine, I think I would put it in around now, after an hour at simmer.
Sometime during the afternoon, or 45 minutes or so before serving time, combine:
1 pound ground beef
1 pound italian pork sausage
1 cup breadcrumbs (soft, not dry)**
remaining half onion
remaining garlic
2 eggs
herbs as desired
4 T grated parmesan cheese (please don't use that nasty stuff in the boxes from the market. ugh)
snipped parsley to taste
dash ground black pepper
Mix all this stuff together well. Do the "pitcher's toss" to form your meatballs, cover and set aside until 30 minutes before serving.
I didn't use ground beef, I ground up a pound of stew meat, alternating the beef with pork sausage, onions, garlic and the bread crumbs. Ground everything up and mixed it pretty well at the same time. This is the freshly ground goodness:
(Please forgive the bad photos. One of the kids has my Nikon so am using the backup, a small Kodak.)
Brown the meatballs* well, remove from pan and drain them. Set aside.
Bring the soup up to a boil. Add:
1 cup tiny pasta (or your choice of small starch)
15 ounces cannelini or other white bean (I'm using pearl barley because I have some but no beans)
1 cup thinly sliced mushrooms (use canned if you want)
Cover, reduce heat and simmer until pasta is done as you like. Return heat to medium-high and add:
cooked meatballs
3 cups fresh spinach torn into pieces (if using frozen, drain in the morning and let sit. Squeeze well and rip up before adding. Canned spinach doesn't work well but if it's what you have, go ahead. My only problem is that it usually has big stems and seems to be bitter.)
Cook for another few minutes to heat meatballs through and wilt the fresh spinach or heat the frozen through.
That's it. If you want, put everything but the meatballs and spinach in your slow cooker. The pasta should be fine. If you don't like that idea, cook your pasta separately when you are cooking your meatballs, then add those and the spinach at the very end. Will work just fine.
* The way I like to do this is in a 350°F oven on a parchment or foil lined baking pan. They don't burn nor get rubbery that way and it saves standing at the stove pushing the meatballs around.
** Had a bit of a problem with the crumbs. Only bread in the cupboard was that awful chewey white junk Himself likes. So? Had a loaf of homemade sundried tomato and rosemary bread. Thawed part of it, crumble and? voila! Kicker bread crumbs. yum!
Coming soon... Cassoulet with confit de canard from a friend in France.
Let's get started...
48 ounces canned tomatoes or the equivalent in peeled fresh tomato royale
1 large red onion, medium dice (half for the soup, half for the meatballs)
3 garlic cloves, minced (2 for the soup, 1 for the meatballs)
1/4 cup green and red bell peppers, fine chop (optional)
Anise, thyme, basil, red pepper flakes and oregano to taste
bay leaf
2 cups beef stock (more if needed to thin soup)
2 cups water
Put all that stuff (minus the bits for the meatballs) in a medium stock pot. Stir it up well, bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer.
I just put mine on at noon for a meal that will be this evening around 6 p.m. This is what it looks like at this point:
During the course of the afternoon, I will check and stir this every half hour or so. If needed, I will add more beef stock. Water would do fine, as well. Come to think of it, if I had a half cup or so of a dry red or white wine, I think I would put it in around now, after an hour at simmer.
Sometime during the afternoon, or 45 minutes or so before serving time, combine:
1 pound ground beef
1 pound italian pork sausage
1 cup breadcrumbs (soft, not dry)**
remaining half onion
remaining garlic
2 eggs
herbs as desired
4 T grated parmesan cheese (please don't use that nasty stuff in the boxes from the market. ugh)
snipped parsley to taste
dash ground black pepper
Mix all this stuff together well. Do the "pitcher's toss" to form your meatballs, cover and set aside until 30 minutes before serving.
I didn't use ground beef, I ground up a pound of stew meat, alternating the beef with pork sausage, onions, garlic and the bread crumbs. Ground everything up and mixed it pretty well at the same time. This is the freshly ground goodness:
(Please forgive the bad photos. One of the kids has my Nikon so am using the backup, a small Kodak.)
Brown the meatballs* well, remove from pan and drain them. Set aside.
Bring the soup up to a boil. Add:
1 cup tiny pasta (or your choice of small starch)
15 ounces cannelini or other white bean (I'm using pearl barley because I have some but no beans)
1 cup thinly sliced mushrooms (use canned if you want)
Cover, reduce heat and simmer until pasta is done as you like. Return heat to medium-high and add:
cooked meatballs
3 cups fresh spinach torn into pieces (if using frozen, drain in the morning and let sit. Squeeze well and rip up before adding. Canned spinach doesn't work well but if it's what you have, go ahead. My only problem is that it usually has big stems and seems to be bitter.)
Cook for another few minutes to heat meatballs through and wilt the fresh spinach or heat the frozen through.
That's it. If you want, put everything but the meatballs and spinach in your slow cooker. The pasta should be fine. If you don't like that idea, cook your pasta separately when you are cooking your meatballs, then add those and the spinach at the very end. Will work just fine.
* The way I like to do this is in a 350°F oven on a parchment or foil lined baking pan. They don't burn nor get rubbery that way and it saves standing at the stove pushing the meatballs around.
** Had a bit of a problem with the crumbs. Only bread in the cupboard was that awful chewey white junk Himself likes. So? Had a loaf of homemade sundried tomato and rosemary bread. Thawed part of it, crumble and? voila! Kicker bread crumbs. yum!
Coming soon... Cassoulet with confit de canard from a friend in France.
Some folks do
Enjoy cooking, food, eating and everything related.
Some folks don't. Never have. Never will.
Case in point is a couple who are close friends. They built a new house 2 years ago. It's a lovely place, out in the country, with a 3 stall garage, full basement, 2 1/2 baths, 3 bedrooms, fireplace, all the amenities.
It also has a kitchen to die for! Crescent shaped, huge windows, top end cabinetry and appliances, gorgeous stone counters, a huge island with storage plus all the electrical outlets a person could possibly want.
They don't use it.
As the lols say, "srsly."
About the only thing that actually gets cooked is a pot of chili now and again. Or a quick batch of the stuff Americans call Lunchroom Goulash.
That's it.
I just don't understand that.
Never have. Never will.
Next post? Food, again.... Meatball Soup. Yum!
Some folks don't. Never have. Never will.
Case in point is a couple who are close friends. They built a new house 2 years ago. It's a lovely place, out in the country, with a 3 stall garage, full basement, 2 1/2 baths, 3 bedrooms, fireplace, all the amenities.
It also has a kitchen to die for! Crescent shaped, huge windows, top end cabinetry and appliances, gorgeous stone counters, a huge island with storage plus all the electrical outlets a person could possibly want.
They don't use it.
As the lols say, "srsly."
About the only thing that actually gets cooked is a pot of chili now and again. Or a quick batch of the stuff Americans call Lunchroom Goulash.
That's it.
I just don't understand that.
Never have. Never will.
Next post? Food, again.... Meatball Soup. Yum!
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Cannolis, anyone?
Ladies and gentlemen, I have now made my very first, inaugural batch of cannolis from scratch.
Not bad, for a first try. Especially for someone who really doesn't like pastry-making and abhors deep frying stuff.
I used a pretty basic recipe, a standard butter pastry, for the shells. The only past experience I have had with deep-frying a pastry kind of thing was Swedish rosettes, which really isn't the same thing at all, except for the hot fat part. To my total surprise, after frying in 360° F oil for 60 seconds, the shells were flaky, golden-brown and not the least greasy. Success! Woohoo!
The filling? Well, ricotta goes in lasagna, manicotti and shells but not dessert shells. Isn't that right? Naaaaaah. It also goes into desserts. So does mascarpone. No need to raise an eyebrow like that, really. It works nicely.
How does a cook turn cheese into a filling for dessert? First, by draining that ricotta really, really well. Hanging it in a muslin bag over a bowl for 12 hours or so works very well. Dump the cheese into a large bowl, discarding the drained liquid. Get your mixer out and beat that stuff until it's smooth, then add 8 ounces of room temperature mascarpone. Continue beating as you want the two cheeses incorporated together as much as possible. After all is mixed together nicely, add 1 1/2 cups of powdered or confectioner's sugar in small amounts, beating well after each addition. Add whatever flavoring you want at this point, whether a small amount of liquor or extracts, whatever. (Citrus zest is traditional, most likely because it would cut the astounding sweetness of the filling.)
I made another change, one suggested by a lovely Italian friend: whipping 1 cup of heavy cream and folding it into the filling as the last step. The plain cheese mixture is too heavy for our tastes and the whipped cream lightens the texture and gives it a better mouth-feel.
So we have successfully fried pastry and made the filling. Now, to fill the shells in what always turns out to be a life-and-death struggle with the pastry tube. Go ahead and laugh, it's fine. Everyone around here thinks my struggles with the tube and tips is a bit on the far side of hilarious and makes for many titters, giggles and outright guffaws. This particular outing was no different.
Dutifully stuffing the white bit down the tube, sticking the tip on it and screwing the locking ring wasn't too difficult. Dropping the filling, 1/4 cup at a time, into the tube was a snap. Twisting the top of the tube to press the filling down was done in a trice. Pick up shell, insert tip into shell. Squeeze. Now, wait a minute. What's that tiny, thin stream of filling? Is the tip clogged? Well, no. Carried away by the success of the frying, I had put the piping tip on rather than the large filling tip. This led to a somewhat protracted struggle to remove the lock ring, pull the tip off, replace it and put the ring back on. All the while leaking copious amount of white stuff all over the counter and my apron. For all you accomplished bakers, cake decorators and pastry makers this probably sounds too stupid to believe. Believe it. The lock ring wouldn't go back on the tube straight, being slippery from the filling. The bottom of the tube had gotten rucked up and the tip wouldn't fit over the fabric. Coordinating tip, ring and filling was truly beyond the ability of someone with a very high in-born level of klutziness, not withstanding the fact that even with filling leakage the tube was half full. By the time the ring was back on, albeit not straight, yours truly had filling all over hands, arms, apron front, counter and unfilled shells. My imagination gathered generations of Italian nonnas around, clucking disapprovingly.
After surmounting the obstacle of the Deadly Pastry Tube, the actual filling process went smoothly. I had used the large star tip and beating the cheeses thoroughly had created a very smooth, velvety filling that held it's shape at the end of the shells. They came out very nicely, if I may say so myself.
The mixing process for the cheeses involved periodic taste-testing so I already knew the stuff was incredibly sweet*. Not being a lover of anything sweet, I volunteered DS2 for the final vetting of the cannolis. He took one bite, gulped and rushed to the refrigerator for a glass of milk. Sweet, indeed. DS3 appeared some time later and tried another cannoli. He thought they were very good and not at all too sweet. Just shows you can't tell what people will like.
The end of this particular saga has turned out thus:
Himself doesn't want any cannolis, although he is the reason I tried them in the first place.
DS2 won't eat any more because he says he doesn't want to go into sugar-shock.
DS3 thinks they are fine but would rather snack on cheddar cheese.
What did we do with the remaining 11 cannolis? Giuseppe the Body Man turned up late in the afternoon, tried one and took the rest of the bunch home with the expectation of eating the whole mess before bed.**
All in all, it was a successful experiment. Those lovely stainless steel shell forms will be used again, but not to make cannolis. Once is enough.
* In fact, after the final addition of whipped cream and subsequent taste tests, I ate 4 dill pickles and drank several glasses of water to forestall the eventual overload from the sweetness.
** Our cannoli lover isn't anywhere to be found today. I suspect that may be because he's been admitted to the hospital. Too much sweetness isn't good for anyone, even a true-green/white/red Italian gent.
Not bad, for a first try. Especially for someone who really doesn't like pastry-making and abhors deep frying stuff.
I used a pretty basic recipe, a standard butter pastry, for the shells. The only past experience I have had with deep-frying a pastry kind of thing was Swedish rosettes, which really isn't the same thing at all, except for the hot fat part. To my total surprise, after frying in 360° F oil for 60 seconds, the shells were flaky, golden-brown and not the least greasy. Success! Woohoo!
The filling? Well, ricotta goes in lasagna, manicotti and shells but not dessert shells. Isn't that right? Naaaaaah. It also goes into desserts. So does mascarpone. No need to raise an eyebrow like that, really. It works nicely.
How does a cook turn cheese into a filling for dessert? First, by draining that ricotta really, really well. Hanging it in a muslin bag over a bowl for 12 hours or so works very well. Dump the cheese into a large bowl, discarding the drained liquid. Get your mixer out and beat that stuff until it's smooth, then add 8 ounces of room temperature mascarpone. Continue beating as you want the two cheeses incorporated together as much as possible. After all is mixed together nicely, add 1 1/2 cups of powdered or confectioner's sugar in small amounts, beating well after each addition. Add whatever flavoring you want at this point, whether a small amount of liquor or extracts, whatever. (Citrus zest is traditional, most likely because it would cut the astounding sweetness of the filling.)
I made another change, one suggested by a lovely Italian friend: whipping 1 cup of heavy cream and folding it into the filling as the last step. The plain cheese mixture is too heavy for our tastes and the whipped cream lightens the texture and gives it a better mouth-feel.
So we have successfully fried pastry and made the filling. Now, to fill the shells in what always turns out to be a life-and-death struggle with the pastry tube. Go ahead and laugh, it's fine. Everyone around here thinks my struggles with the tube and tips is a bit on the far side of hilarious and makes for many titters, giggles and outright guffaws. This particular outing was no different.
Dutifully stuffing the white bit down the tube, sticking the tip on it and screwing the locking ring wasn't too difficult. Dropping the filling, 1/4 cup at a time, into the tube was a snap. Twisting the top of the tube to press the filling down was done in a trice. Pick up shell, insert tip into shell. Squeeze. Now, wait a minute. What's that tiny, thin stream of filling? Is the tip clogged? Well, no. Carried away by the success of the frying, I had put the piping tip on rather than the large filling tip. This led to a somewhat protracted struggle to remove the lock ring, pull the tip off, replace it and put the ring back on. All the while leaking copious amount of white stuff all over the counter and my apron. For all you accomplished bakers, cake decorators and pastry makers this probably sounds too stupid to believe. Believe it. The lock ring wouldn't go back on the tube straight, being slippery from the filling. The bottom of the tube had gotten rucked up and the tip wouldn't fit over the fabric. Coordinating tip, ring and filling was truly beyond the ability of someone with a very high in-born level of klutziness, not withstanding the fact that even with filling leakage the tube was half full. By the time the ring was back on, albeit not straight, yours truly had filling all over hands, arms, apron front, counter and unfilled shells. My imagination gathered generations of Italian nonnas around, clucking disapprovingly.
After surmounting the obstacle of the Deadly Pastry Tube, the actual filling process went smoothly. I had used the large star tip and beating the cheeses thoroughly had created a very smooth, velvety filling that held it's shape at the end of the shells. They came out very nicely, if I may say so myself.
The mixing process for the cheeses involved periodic taste-testing so I already knew the stuff was incredibly sweet*. Not being a lover of anything sweet, I volunteered DS2 for the final vetting of the cannolis. He took one bite, gulped and rushed to the refrigerator for a glass of milk. Sweet, indeed. DS3 appeared some time later and tried another cannoli. He thought they were very good and not at all too sweet. Just shows you can't tell what people will like.
The end of this particular saga has turned out thus:
Himself doesn't want any cannolis, although he is the reason I tried them in the first place.
DS2 won't eat any more because he says he doesn't want to go into sugar-shock.
DS3 thinks they are fine but would rather snack on cheddar cheese.
What did we do with the remaining 11 cannolis? Giuseppe the Body Man turned up late in the afternoon, tried one and took the rest of the bunch home with the expectation of eating the whole mess before bed.**
All in all, it was a successful experiment. Those lovely stainless steel shell forms will be used again, but not to make cannolis. Once is enough.
* In fact, after the final addition of whipped cream and subsequent taste tests, I ate 4 dill pickles and drank several glasses of water to forestall the eventual overload from the sweetness.
** Our cannoli lover isn't anywhere to be found today. I suspect that may be because he's been admitted to the hospital. Too much sweetness isn't good for anyone, even a true-green/white/red Italian gent.
Friday, January 23, 2009
What agreement?
This has very little to do with cooking but, since it's my Kitchen, I'll say what I want. So, with that introduction, here goes...
I am annoyed. I am really, really annoyed. Until recently it has been possible to depend on verbal agreements or, in some cases, an unspoken social contract to ensured the wheels of societal interaction are kept greased and moving smoothly.
Seems it ain't so no more.
For years we have been sharing our food with a long-time friend who lives by himself out in the country. He hasn't much cash and we felt, since we had enough at each meal we could certainly share with him. The only caveat to this was that he keep, and bring back, all the storage containers in which he received his share. This arrangement worked nicely for all concerned. I didn't have to deal with leftovers and he ate well.
This morning, finding myself totally out of containers for some soup I wanted to freeze, I called him. The conversation went something like this:
"Hey, you. How's it going today?"
"OK, girl. How are you?"
"Doin' good. You staying warm? Nothing frozen up?"
"Nope. The well is great and all the animals are in shelter."
"Glad to hear it. I wanted to see if you could bring my containers in to me. Or you could just put them in a bag and stick them in the truck. I'd pick them up later?"
"Uh... um well... uh..."
"What's the matter? Don't you know where they are?"
"Um (insert considerable hemming and hawing here)..."
"Did you get rid of them? Can you get them back?"
"(more hemming and hawing)"
"Ok, no problem. Stay warm."
"Yeah."
"Bye."
"Bye."
All right, yeah, we aren't talking Rolex watches or something worth thousands of dollars. There were dozens of containers, though, and it will cost me a fair amount of cash to replace them all. That really isn't the point, is it?
The point is that we had an agreement. A verbal contract. Word given means word kept? It did at one time.
Another case in point is the mentally handicapped guy who has picked up our empty cans for years. The agreement with him was that he could have the cans but he must bring his own bags for them and make sure he had transportation here and back to his own home. This one has fallen through, too.
He came over last weekend for cans. No problem at all on our end. Just stick them in your bags and scoot. I was taking a nap, Himself was watching football and, since there was no reason to think otherwise, we just left him to his own devices.
I woke up some time later and went to the garage to get something from the freezer for supper. The cans were gone, sure. So was our whole supply of 45 gallon black bags. WTF??? I came back in and told Himself that all the bags were gone. He turns and looks at me and then stated that it turned out HE was expected to give the guy a ride back to town, 10 miles both ways. So, not only does he have 20 bucks worth of cans, all our bags, but he thinks we are a taxi service?
Again, a spoken agreement that had been observed by the parties is no more. Two previously amicable relationships have been ruptured by the selfish and self-serving actions of two adults who knew better.
I dislike being draconian about things but, in this case? Neither of them had better call and ask for something because they ain't gettin' it.
Word given, word broken? Trust gone.
I am annoyed. I am really, really annoyed. Until recently it has been possible to depend on verbal agreements or, in some cases, an unspoken social contract to ensured the wheels of societal interaction are kept greased and moving smoothly.
Seems it ain't so no more.
For years we have been sharing our food with a long-time friend who lives by himself out in the country. He hasn't much cash and we felt, since we had enough at each meal we could certainly share with him. The only caveat to this was that he keep, and bring back, all the storage containers in which he received his share. This arrangement worked nicely for all concerned. I didn't have to deal with leftovers and he ate well.
This morning, finding myself totally out of containers for some soup I wanted to freeze, I called him. The conversation went something like this:
"Hey, you. How's it going today?"
"OK, girl. How are you?"
"Doin' good. You staying warm? Nothing frozen up?"
"Nope. The well is great and all the animals are in shelter."
"Glad to hear it. I wanted to see if you could bring my containers in to me. Or you could just put them in a bag and stick them in the truck. I'd pick them up later?"
"Uh... um well... uh..."
"What's the matter? Don't you know where they are?"
"Um (insert considerable hemming and hawing here)..."
"Did you get rid of them? Can you get them back?"
"(more hemming and hawing)"
"Ok, no problem. Stay warm."
"Yeah."
"Bye."
"Bye."
All right, yeah, we aren't talking Rolex watches or something worth thousands of dollars. There were dozens of containers, though, and it will cost me a fair amount of cash to replace them all. That really isn't the point, is it?
The point is that we had an agreement. A verbal contract. Word given means word kept? It did at one time.
Another case in point is the mentally handicapped guy who has picked up our empty cans for years. The agreement with him was that he could have the cans but he must bring his own bags for them and make sure he had transportation here and back to his own home. This one has fallen through, too.
He came over last weekend for cans. No problem at all on our end. Just stick them in your bags and scoot. I was taking a nap, Himself was watching football and, since there was no reason to think otherwise, we just left him to his own devices.
I woke up some time later and went to the garage to get something from the freezer for supper. The cans were gone, sure. So was our whole supply of 45 gallon black bags. WTF??? I came back in and told Himself that all the bags were gone. He turns and looks at me and then stated that it turned out HE was expected to give the guy a ride back to town, 10 miles both ways. So, not only does he have 20 bucks worth of cans, all our bags, but he thinks we are a taxi service?
Again, a spoken agreement that had been observed by the parties is no more. Two previously amicable relationships have been ruptured by the selfish and self-serving actions of two adults who knew better.
I dislike being draconian about things but, in this case? Neither of them had better call and ask for something because they ain't gettin' it.
Word given, word broken? Trust gone.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Sopa de Tortilla
In the age-old tradition of "make it up as you go along and see if it works," I present to you my made-up tortilla soup. I read through numerous sopa recipes, looking for one that would fit our tastes and not take 3 days to make. Not finding quite what I was looking for and being constitutionally unable to just follow a savory recipe with exactitude, I borrowed a bit here, a piece there and added a lot of my own ideas.
This should feed about four people but it's easy to increase the servings without increasing the meat. Just add tomatoes, beans and seasoning until you have the approximate amount you need and a flavor you like.
4 dried New Mexico chilis, stems and some seeds removed.
Roast the chilis until their aroma is released. Remove them from heat immediately and submerge in cold water in a small bowl. Let steep until skins have softened. Chop finely.
2 cups yellow corn, fresh, canned (drained) or frozen (thawed)
Heat the oven to 400F. Place a shallow pan on the oven bottom. When preheated, dump the corn into the pan. Stir every couple of minutes until you see color, turn off oven and remove pan. Set aside.
1 large white onion, peeled and coarsely chopped
6 cloves garlic, chopped finely
1/2 tsp oregano (Mexican or Greek, doesn't matter)
1 tsp chili powder
1 T ground cumin (if you can grind your own seeds it's a lot better)
1 1/2 quarts home canned tomatoes or equivalent commercial (fresh tomatoes? use about 7)
2 cups black beans, cooked and drained.
8 cups chicken stock
In a large stockpot, place all the above ingredients, including the chilis and the corn. Stir well. Bring to boil, place pot on heat diffuser over medium-high heat and let it simmer until you like the taste and consistency.
8 6" corn tortillas, cut into thin strips
2 T vegetable oil or manteca
While the soup is simmering, heat the fat in a heavy cast iron pan. Add the cut tortillas in batches, sauteeing for 2-3 minutes per batch until strips are crisp. Be careful not to burn them!
4 cups cooked chicken, diced
Add chicken to soup pot, stir well. Return to simmer until chicken is heated through.
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
Just before serving, stir in the cilantro and half of the tortilla strips.
1 cup grated jack cheese or equivalent mild white cheese
1 c grated sharp cheddar
sour cream
Cubed avocado (optional)
remaining tortilla strips
Set out serving bowls. Add cheeses to each bowl, ladle soup over. Garnish with a dollop of sour cream, avocado cubes and the remaining tortilla strips.
How many people this will serve depends on how hungry they are and what else you serve.
Curmudgeon's note: I have seen sopa de tortilla made with everything from canned salsa to roasted squash. Sometimes it's been thickened with some starchy stuff and more resembles a weird pinkish gelatinous mass than soup. To that I say, "YUCK!" I don't worry about the black hunks of the roasted chilis in the soup, it's just one of those things and the chilis add real depth of flavor to the soup. My personal preference is for roasted corn, too. If you don't like that, use plain corn. You could, if you're feeling ambitious, roast the onion, garlic and, if using fresh tomatoes, the tomatoes. Or, alternatively, use half roasted tomatillas and half roasted tomatoes. Lime juice makes a nice addition and adds a freshness to the soup. Epizote can also be used with the other spices if you can find it. For a vegetarian? Leave out the chicken stock and chicken and use vegetable stock instead. It's all good. I've probably forgotten something, I usually do.
Make it up as you go along and see what kind of wonderful variations you can come up with.
After all, it's your palate you are pleasing!
This should feed about four people but it's easy to increase the servings without increasing the meat. Just add tomatoes, beans and seasoning until you have the approximate amount you need and a flavor you like.
4 dried New Mexico chilis, stems and some seeds removed.
Roast the chilis until their aroma is released. Remove them from heat immediately and submerge in cold water in a small bowl. Let steep until skins have softened. Chop finely.
2 cups yellow corn, fresh, canned (drained) or frozen (thawed)
Heat the oven to 400F. Place a shallow pan on the oven bottom. When preheated, dump the corn into the pan. Stir every couple of minutes until you see color, turn off oven and remove pan. Set aside.
1 large white onion, peeled and coarsely chopped
6 cloves garlic, chopped finely
1/2 tsp oregano (Mexican or Greek, doesn't matter)
1 tsp chili powder
1 T ground cumin (if you can grind your own seeds it's a lot better)
1 1/2 quarts home canned tomatoes or equivalent commercial (fresh tomatoes? use about 7)
2 cups black beans, cooked and drained.
8 cups chicken stock
In a large stockpot, place all the above ingredients, including the chilis and the corn. Stir well. Bring to boil, place pot on heat diffuser over medium-high heat and let it simmer until you like the taste and consistency.
8 6" corn tortillas, cut into thin strips
2 T vegetable oil or manteca
While the soup is simmering, heat the fat in a heavy cast iron pan. Add the cut tortillas in batches, sauteeing for 2-3 minutes per batch until strips are crisp. Be careful not to burn them!
4 cups cooked chicken, diced
Add chicken to soup pot, stir well. Return to simmer until chicken is heated through.
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
Just before serving, stir in the cilantro and half of the tortilla strips.
1 cup grated jack cheese or equivalent mild white cheese
1 c grated sharp cheddar
sour cream
Cubed avocado (optional)
remaining tortilla strips
Set out serving bowls. Add cheeses to each bowl, ladle soup over. Garnish with a dollop of sour cream, avocado cubes and the remaining tortilla strips.
How many people this will serve depends on how hungry they are and what else you serve.
Curmudgeon's note: I have seen sopa de tortilla made with everything from canned salsa to roasted squash. Sometimes it's been thickened with some starchy stuff and more resembles a weird pinkish gelatinous mass than soup. To that I say, "YUCK!" I don't worry about the black hunks of the roasted chilis in the soup, it's just one of those things and the chilis add real depth of flavor to the soup. My personal preference is for roasted corn, too. If you don't like that, use plain corn. You could, if you're feeling ambitious, roast the onion, garlic and, if using fresh tomatoes, the tomatoes. Or, alternatively, use half roasted tomatillas and half roasted tomatoes. Lime juice makes a nice addition and adds a freshness to the soup. Epizote can also be used with the other spices if you can find it. For a vegetarian? Leave out the chicken stock and chicken and use vegetable stock instead. It's all good. I've probably forgotten something, I usually do.
Make it up as you go along and see what kind of wonderful variations you can come up with.
After all, it's your palate you are pleasing!
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