10 posts tagged “food”

Note: for those vegetarians or those Catholics who'd like to eat this on a Friday, I imagine that vegetable broth could easily be substituted for the chicken broth.

You'll need:

Olive oil

4 TB butter

Balsamic vinager

2 onions

4 stalks celery

1 bunch green onions

6 carrots

1 green bell pepper

2 small cans of tomatoes

4 cans of chicken broth (or the homemade equivalent, or vegetable broth, or...)

1/2 pound black beans

1/2 pound black-eyed peas

Two generous pinches of tarragon and sage

Three generous pinches of thyme

Dash of salt

Black pepper to taste

Dash of cayenne pepper

 

Slice the fresh vegetables.  Put them into a pan with a drizzle of olive oil and the butter. Simmer until the onions have been translucent for a few minutes.  Splash in a little balsamic vinegar, the half the juice from one of the cans of tomatoes, the herbs and the spices.  Simmer on medium-high heat until the vegetables are slightly past "browned" but not quite "scorched."  Dump in the remaining tomatoes and juice, the broth, the (rinsed) beans.  Simmer until the beans are tender.  Best served with fresh bread and perhaps a salad.

This is one of those soups that gets better with time.  It's quite good immediately, but the flavors meld together better after two days or so. 

This is both tasty and cheap; I got all the ingredients for less than $20.  Of course, I already had the stock items (vinegar, spices and herbs, onions), but even if you had to buy some of those this soup would still be quite reasonably priced.

 Enjoy!

This summer, I seem to be relearning the art of baking a cake.  I hadn't baked a cake for six months or so before this summer, and I'd done perhaps one per year for several years before that.  That isn't enough to keep your hand in.  Cakes are unlike any other baked item.  You must be Intuitive with cakes.  You must have an Instinct for cakes.  You must Understand cakes. 

And if you don't practice by making one once in a while, the cake will cackle evilly as it flattens itself on the bottom of the pan.

(This is what happens when you decide to blog rather than try any longer to sleep.  You start psychoanalyzing baked goods.  Let this be a lesson to you all.)

Recently there has been all sorts of flutter at The Bookstore about how we all need to "push" electronic books.  I am disgusted and repelled.  Oh, yes, I understand in theory that ebooks are a neat idea, that you can read them on your iPhone/Kindle/Blackberry, that they are often cheaper than their bound counterparts.  I know I'm paranoid.  I know I'm hopelessly out of date.  But I loathe the idea of electronic books and all they represent to me.  That which is electronic and seen on a screen is ephemeral.  It doesn't exist in a physical sense.  It is seen, read, perhaps even enjoyed--and then tossed in the programmable trash can in preparation for something else.

You can't change the words in a physical book.  You can't (as easily) delete a physical book.  No electronic byte, bit or megakilagigawhatsit can replace the feel of a battered old paperback or a brand-new-you-just-cracked-the-spine-for-the-first-time hardcover.  Nor can it replace the smell of an old leatherbound book that has sat on the shelf of a pipe-smoking professor for forty years.  (Though saints preserve me from sheet music that has sat in a cigarette smoker's house for the same amount of time.)

Helene Hanff only had nightmares about "huge monsters in academic robes carrying long bloody butcher knives labeled Excerpt, Selection, Passage and Abridged."  I wonder what she'd think of a world where beautiful books were slowly being replaced by an image that doesn't actually exist.  I suspect I'd enjoy hearing her scalding comments on such a situation.

Really, I swear that cakes and ebooks have a connection.

When I was but a young diva and starting to learn the Fine Art of Cake Creation, I fell deeply in love with an ancient and battered-beyond-belief copy of Fannie Farmer's Cooking.  That book details precisely how to cook virtually anything, from milk toast (which isn't quite so revolting as it sounds) to a roast chicken to tea to Desserts.

I still don't own a copy of this book, though it is in print.  I want rather badly to come across an older edition--say, 50-60 years old--in hardcover in a bookstore or even online, rather than spend $10 on a silly little paperback that will never stay open to the recipe I want and that won't have the history or FEEL of an older book.

I'm having cake-related ideas, though, and googled a rather unusual cake name this evening to see if the recipe was available online.  Surprise!  Fannie Farmer's Cooking is online in entirety (I hope) courtesy of Bartleby.com, which I've used occasionally for poems or some such for an English class.

This leaves me in the rather peculiar position of decrying ebooks with might and main on one hand and being utterly delighted that this book is available in such form on the other.

(My sweet tooth is coming out strongly on the side of "the other", while my waistline has cast a strong vote for the former.)

Humph.

There's a quote I only half remember about someone standing athwart history and howling "STOP!!!!".  Sometimes I feel like that person. 

 

 

I bring to you a recipe.

I've started four blog posts in the last couple of days.  Each was more sickeningly navel-gazing/meandering/boooooring than the last. 

So I'll post about food.  Food is always good, yes?  Yes.

This weekend being my first weekend off in Cthulu-knows-how-long, I've made some comfort food.  Really easy recipe, and my gosh but it's the BEST pepper-onion-sausage sub EVER.

You'll need two bell peppers (I suggest red and green, but orange or yellow also work), one yellow onion, five spicy italian sausages, a little cooking oil, and four hoagie rolls.  One of these will be plenty for a person and the sub mix sits well in the fridge, so only pull out as many rolls as there will be people eating.

Slice the onion in half.  Slice each half into strips.  Ditto the peppers.  (If you're like a Certain Diva--starts with U, ends with s, you may need to get another pepper as you may find yourself eating a good bit more than a bite or two of the crunchy fresh pepper.  Just warning you!)

Toss them into a large frying pan with the Italian sausage (spicy) and enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan plus a little more.  Cover and cook on medium heat, stirring periodically.  Once the smell is mouth-wateringly tempting and the sausages are a nice brown all over, slice the sausages into bite-sized pieces.  Let sizzle for another five minutes or so, and then turn off the heat.

Slice a hoagie roll down the middle without cutting all the way through.  Prop this over the toaster with the cut edge down.  Turn on the toaster, and toast until the roll is crispy-brown but not burnt.  IMMEDIATELY spoon some of the sausage-pepper-onions over the roll and serve with lots of napkins.  Side salad strictly optional.  I'd also suggest serving with a fork for the bits that get away.

The SOP mix only gets better with fridge time.  Reheat and serve over a fresh-toasted hoagie roll for the next day's lunch/dinner.  Mmmmm!

One of the perks of a) living on the East Coast and b) having a father whose legal specialty was "whatever you need" is that you run into lots of fascinating people from all sorts of backgrounds.  (You also run into a fair number of out-and-out insane individuals, but I digress.)

Many of the less insane clients ended up as friends of the family.  Miss Jo was one of them.  (Jo is her real name, but I think I'm not going to put her last name out on the Internet.)

Miss Jo was, when I met her, an Italian lady of about 70 years.  She cooked the best Italian food I have ever tasted in my entire life--and I exaggerate not.  Of course, having ten kids, she had a lot of practice.  She also was convinced that unless you had to be rolled out the door post-meal, you were "too skinny."  This is a very pleasant attitude in a person who loves to cook Sicilian cuisine, let me tell you.

I fell in love with her biscotti.  (And her lasagna.  And pretty much everything she cooked.  And, naturally, her, because she was about the sweetest person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.  I mean, how can you argue with someone who's life's ambition seemed to be "cook yummy food and lots of it for everybody?")

She was also that delightful sort of cook who likes to share recipes.  Therefore, I give you Miss Jo's Biscotti.  Bear in mind that she had ten kids and, if I recall correctly, several siblings who had about as many kids.  Therefore, I STRONGLY recommend that you halve or (even more likely) quarter the following recipe.  I made it in its entirety precisely once, and that was at Christmastime.  I swear we were still eating biscotti at Easter.

Without further ado, then, Miss Jo's Sicilian Biscotti:

1 pound of butter

12 large eggs

1 1/4 TB vanilla extract OR lemon extract OR almond extract (almond is my favorite, but all are good)

16 C flour

4 C sugar

1/2 pint whipping cream

6 TB baking powder

 

Cream the butter and sugar.  Add one egg at a time, mixing thoroughly after eac.  Mix in cream and whichever extract you chose.  In a separate bowl, sift together the baking powder and 14 cups of the flour, reserving the other 2 cups of flour.  Mix the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients, and add remaining flour until quite stiff.  Roll out the dough half an inch thick, cut the dough with the cutters of your choice, and bake in a 350 degree oven for 10-15 minutes.  The cookies should not brown.  You can roll them in powdered sugar afterwards or ice with a simple icing when cooled.

A few notes:

-Any recipe in which butter is measured by the pound and flour is put in 16 cups at a time will make a LOT of cookies.  If you have ten kids who love biscotti, the original amounts are perfect.  If not, you will never want to see biscotti again by the time you finish that batch.  Last warning, I promise.

-1/2 a pint, for those of you (me) who can't remember pint-cup conversion, comes out to 1 cup.  This make halving and quartering quite easy.

-There are three teaspoons for every tablespoon.  Therefore, 6 TB of baking powder comes to 18 ts of baking powder.  If you halve it, obviously, you can just use 3 TB, but a quarter of 6 TB comes to 4 1/2 ts.  The 1 1/4 TB of flavoring is a bit more difficult to get perfect.  Fortunately, you don't have to.  I've eyeballed it with success many times.  For the perfectionists among you, 1 1/4 TB comes to 3 3/4 ts.  Half of that is 5/8 TB or juuuust under 2 ts.  A quarter is just under 1 ts.  I'd say round it up to 1 or 2 ts and be done with it.

-You can, of course, just slice the dough into strips for the more familiar biscotti shape.  The cookie cutters are more fun. :P

-If you have a kid to whom you're trying to teach fractions and who enjoys cooking, this is a perfect recipe for him/her to work on reducing.  I think this recipe is how I got really comfortable with fractions.

-The absolute yumminess of a biscotti dipped into a cup of coffee cannot possibly be overestimated.

 

I am having She Who Quilts over for dinner on Tuesday.  The tentative menu:

-Start off with salad consisting of mixed greens and a tomato and an avocado sliced over, hint of red onion, dash of balsamic vinaigrette

-Salmon in ginger wasabi sauce, potatoes baked with rosemary, and broccoli

-Carrot cake with lemon frosting for dessert

 

She Who Quilts is bringing the wine, which is fortunate, because I know nothing about wine.  The few occasions I've served wine with something, it's involved cookbook and Internet research about "what sort of wine do you serve with....?" and begging the poor wine seller at Central Market for suggestions.  I enjoy a glass now and then, but it seems wasteful to buy a bottle when I'll never finish it before it goes bad.

We both have views most firm in the matter of desserts.  Desserts should be homemade.  They should involve Real Butter and other equally Real ingredients.  If we can't pronounce it, it doesn't go into the dessert.  Desserts should preferably be pie or cake or homemade cookies.  Desserts are something to be Treasured.  Enjoyed.  Lingered Over.

I make a darn good carrot cake.

I've also considered making a curry with chicken, veggies, coconut milk et all for the main course.  Can't decide whether to go with salmon or curry.  Hmm.  Curry would involve cooking but one item...and I love curry, I do.  I also love fish.

Fortunately, I don't have to decide until Tuesday.  And I probably won't decide until Tuesday afternoon. :P

Recently, I decided to try making my own bread.  I tried one recipe with decidedly mixed results: the bread looked gorgeous, but it was extremely bland and had a tendency to crumble.  Worked well for toast, but that's about it.

Meh.  I like toast--particularly with raspberry fruit butter from Central Market, mmmm--but I wanted a bread from which I could make sandwiches and the like.  Besides, the recipe was for white bread, and while I love a good white bread, it isn't so healthy as whole wheat.

A bit of searching later, I came across this gem of a recipe.  It looked simple enough for a relative newbie to the world of bread-baking, it used ingredients I already had, and the reviews all said that it was tasty.

I spent last Sunday afternoon creating a batch.  Instead of three loaves--I don't own loaf pans yet, and my oven isn't big enough for more than two baking sheets to cook evenly--I made two big loaves and baked them for a bit longer.  The spreading of a little butter (juuuuust enough so that the tops of the loaves had butter on them, no more) post-baking made the bread chewy but not tough or crumbly throughout.  It makes excellent sandwiches, and freezes perfectly well.  I ended up cutting both loaves in half and freezing all but one half in individual bags.  Bakers with more than one person or who themselves eat bread every day would probably leave one or even both of the loaves unfrozen, but I'll go through just about a half or a bit more each week, so it would be wasted if not frozen.

Kneading is also extremely therapeutic--meditational, really.

I'm vaguely wondering if this would make a good bread pudding, and am considering turning one of the halves into a bread pudding at some point in the future.

The one thing I notice is that it is a little sweet.  Not obnoxiously so, mind you, and the recipe uses honey rather than white sugar to sweeten, which is good.  I think I may cut the honey down by a tablespoon or two the next time I make it, but the bread is good as it is.

For the record: a slice or two of homemade toast with raspberry topping, a sliver of really good swiss cheese, and a pot of tea make a marvelous afternoon tea sort of meal.

(Of course, it would be even better shared with people--Carapiccoladiva, you bring the cookies, FlamingoDancer, you're in charge of cake, preferably chocolate, and PatrickXFCE, you can provide the background music.  All other bloggers welcome, too! )

That being said, afternoon tea is extremely pleasant when taken with a book in hand, a cat at your feet politely requesting cheese and toast bits, and something early (Corelli, Scarlatti, et all) on Pandora.

I really should be studying.  I have a test either tomorrow or next week (don't give me that look, all you teachers; the teacher wasn't sure when she'd give it!), and I have a sizeable math assignment due on Friday, which means that it must be completed this evening since I do not have time on Thursdays to do anything except attend class and work.

But...I'm a college student and a singer.  Therefore, my thoughts turn not to music lit or algebra.  (Actually, my thoughts never turn to algebra if I can avoid it.)  Rather, I am thinking about food.

Ooooooh!  I know!  I was going to post my breakfast oatmeal recipe!

You'll need:

1/2C oatmeal

Handful of dried peaches

Half handful of golden raisins

Half handful of nuts (I had walnuts, but I should think pecans or hazelnuts would be yummy, too)

1C water

Pinch of salt

Two (ish) spoonfuls of brown sugar

 

Mix the oatmeal, salt and water in a bowl.  Microwave on "high" for three minutes.  Stir in everything else, microwave on "high" for another three minutes.  Enjoy with coffee and perhaps some toast.  I find that just adding those nuts means that I don't get hungry nearly as quickly.  This is particularly handy on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when I tend (I know, bad habit) to have breakfast and then not eat until 7 or 8 PM while on break at work.

 

But dinner is coming, and I missed lunch.

I could grab some sushi.  Sushi is yummy, it's been a while since last I had some, I know a great sushi place that features a $2-$3-a-roll menu after 7 PM....mmmm, fish and veggies.

On the other hand, spicy sounds good, too.  There's that curry I made a few weeks ago...wouldn't mind having some again, and I could study while it cooks.  Can't study in this sushi restaurant; waaaaay too loud.

Getting out might be good for me, though.

On yet another hand (I am now a genetic mutant), I supposed that I could order Chinese takeout.  Savory or hot sounds...mmmm.  Pepper steak, anyone?

Have I made you all hungry yet?

Can you tell that I was delighted not to be called into work this evening?

Earlier this morning, there was a rather cool music theory class.  It was followed by a (cancelled) ear training class, a (cancelled) rehearsal, and a (cancelled) opera coaching session.

Evidentally, there is some sort of nasty flu going around.  I don't have it.  Nor do I intend to.

So, instead I practiced (went well), and then spent a lazy and luxurious hour sprawled on a chair in the library and reading.

There was then a brilliant, fantastic and synapse-firing-laden voice lesson, after which I was informed that I didn't have to go to work.

So I took Aberforth for an oil change and a wash.  The poor dear was overdue for both, and I wanted to make it up to him for the bad treatment he got at the hands (or perhaps trunk?) of that twit last week.  Shopping at various and sundry stores then occurred. 

I went to World Market and revelled in spicy smells and bright silk scarves and exotic coffees and hot pink satin brocade hairbands.  (Be proud of me; I resisted all but one jar of clearance tea and a bar of to-die-for chocolate.)

I went to Central Market and got some good bread, a small chunk of excellent cheese, some lovely wasabi ginger marinade, fresh asparagus (HEAVEN), and a loofah (not on the menu). 

I went to the supermarket and got a bottle of chardonnay and a piece of salmon.

I shall now go throw the asparagus on the stove, pour the marinade over the salmon, set the wine in the refrigerator, and then take a bath (see loofah) while all that is working on itself.

Post bath, all I'll need to do is slice some bread and cheese, broil the salmon for a few minutes, pour myself a glass of wine and voila! dinner is served.

It will be followed by a couple of squares of good chocolate, a cup of perfect tea, and an episode of House, MD (words fail to express my adoration of Hugh Laurie).

And then to bed with two sleepy (and, in all probability, salmon-stuffed) cats.

 

Don't really have any stories from work at the moment (at least, nothing amusing) and school is fantastic but as of yet unremarkable, so what to write about?  Well, if singing and work are out, that leaves...books and food, natch!

Okay, recipe for a lovely dinner, which will either serve 3-4 or leave lots of leftovers.  In particular, the salmon is incredible as leftovers, possibly even better than it was right out of the oven.  I think the flavors mingle a little better after 24 hours or so. 

Take a salmon fillet and a bottle of ginger-wasabi marinade (I never said that this was original!).  Pour some of the marinade into the pan, and slap the salmon into it.  Turn the salmon over a few times in order to be sure that it is covered in marinade.  Refrigerate for a day or so.

The next day, snap the ends off of two pounds of asparagus.  Place the ends on the bottom of a fairly deep frying pan.  Add just enough water to almost (but not quite) cover the asparagus ends.  Add a TB of butter, cut into slivers.  (I know, I know, butter = great evil presence that will kill you in your sleep.  One TB will add a whopping hundred calories to the entire two pounds of asparagus, and will improve the flavor immeasurably.  Put the butter in, darn it!)  Then put the rest of the asparagus on top of the ends.  The ends will keep the asparagus from scorching on the bottom of the pan.  Cover the pan, and set it on a burner.  Simmer until tender, about 8-10 minutes, depending on the thickness of the stalks.

While the asparagus is cooking, put the salmon under a broiler until crispy on the edges; time will vary depending on the size of the fillet.  Cut a few slices from a loaf of really good bread and some more slices of a similarly good cheese (I recommend Brie).  If you're a wine person, pour a glass at this point.  Put on some sort of pleasant but unobtrusive music.  Pull out the salmon, and cut yourself a piece.  Dish out some asparagus, put some bread and cheese on the plate, and voila!  Dinner is served.

I had fresh raspberries and a peach for dessert; to make it fancy, you could add cream whipped with just a hint of nutmeg, with a light dust of nutmeg overall just before serving.  I think that the fruit was good as it was, though, as it's hard to beat perfectly in-season raspberries and peach!

Now for some books...

 

 

I've finished Waiter Rant, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  I even decided to purchase it, on the theory that I've read The Waiter's blog for years for free, and that I should at least say "thanks" by buying the book.

It's a rather out-of-the-way book, admittedly.  The best way to describe it is as a collection of blog posts.  Over two-thirds of the book has never been online, but I still sort of perceived it as a set of posts (admittedly longer than most of his posts) that I hadn't read before.  You know how, when you read a really neat blog you finish up reading the latest post by thinking "Man, that was COOL, but I wish it kept going?"  This book is like that for Waiter Rant fans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a rule, I don't usually read best-sellers.  Far too frequently, they're trash, garbage (yes, there's a difference), or just plain badly written.  I not only read this NYT Bestseller, but I purchased it before it hit used-book sites at a considerably cheaper rate.  Readers (all six of them) of this blog know how unusual that is.

It's written as a series of letters between several characters and set shortly after WWII.  I was initially uncertain about it, but after reading about 20 pages I was hooked and didn't put it down that night until I'd finished it.

If I had to describe it, I'd say that it's a historical novel/love story/mystery based around some relatively unknown wartime incidents.  It will particularly appeal to the lover of good books.

 

 

 

 

Resistance is written by a woman who was arrested in France shortly after Paris was invaded.  She had been distributing pamphlets and putting impertinent de Gaulle bumper stickers on Nazi vehicles.  For this, she spent the remainder of the war in prison and labor camps.

I would have expected this to be a really interesting book, and it was.  But it was just depressing.  That sounds so self-centered, because this woman went through more horror than I can imagine.  But, well, it's true.  I didn't see much love or affection in this book.  Sure, I wouldn't exactly expect that from the Nazis, but the author spent most of the book being sarcastic and unpleasant.  When speaking, for example, of being told that she was a grandmother, she didn't discuss her feelings of not meeting this child or even initially knowing his sex or name.  Instead, she was sarcastic: of course the camp's wardress didn't let her know; she supposed that good German women didn't need to know the sex of their grandchildren.  If any of you have read The Chronicles of Narnia, the author's style reminds me of that of Eustace (Voyage of the Dawn Treader) when he wrote in his notebook: in a word, snotty.  Just snotty. 

Maybe it's partly the translation, since the book was translated from the French.  But the unpleasantness, bitterness and--I'll use this word once more and then stop--snottiness of the book kept me from particularly appreciating it.  At the end of the war, some of the local peasants refused to identify those who had mistreated them.  Why?  Because they were religious, and forgave their opppressors.  Quite frankly, I couldn't do that, but I could respect it.  After all, those who had been in charge of the camps weren't going to be in such a position again, so not identifying them wouldn't cause others to suffer in the future.  Instead of being at least understanding about this position, she mocks them and makes unnecessarily rude remarks about the religious statues in their cottages. 

All in all, this isn't a book I'll be recommending anytime soon.

 

Now for an entirely different sort of book.  While I'm a bit of a Dean Koontz fan, I had never read his Frankenstein books.  I read both over the last month or two.  I must say, I'm impressed.  While I wouldn't say that they are great literature, I will say that they are, as his books generally tend to be, extremely well-written.  Exquisite attention to detail mingles with brilliant imagination, and they form another series that has me begging, "Mr. Koontz, WHERE is the third book of the series?" (His Christopher Snow books, my favorite of all his series, have been waiting for their third book for over ten years, I believe, though a very distance reference was made to them in his latest Odd Thomas installment.)

Koontz makes the reader present in his story; one cringes at Carson's madcap driving, and chuckles at Maddison's side comments.  At the same time, the reader ponders the unanswerable: how and what is ensoulment?  Can a creature created specifically for evil still render good?  The importance of the responsible practice of science and, of course, the "everyday hero" are prominently featured.

There are, as always, many good laughs and much reference to mouth-watering food.  As has been indicated in his other books, Koontz (not incorrectly, I think) seems to argue that when the world is being destroyed, sometimes all that one can do is cling to that which one holds dear: family, friends, and chocolate-mint ice cream.

Heaven alone knows when he'll release Book Three.  It was supposed to be published in 2006.  The date was then pushed to 2007, and on to 2008.  Now the tentative release date is in 2009. 

I do know that I'll be first in line when that book is finally released.

But please, Mr. Koontz.  Couldn't you finish the Christopher Snow series soon?  This reader would be most grateful.

a package of raspberries on sale at the grocery store.  Big, round, perfectly ripe berries with lots of flavor.  Raspberries are my absolute all-time favorite food, even more than coffee and chocolate.  I don't get them terribly often because they're so infernally PRICY, but they were on sale today, and they were goooooood.

Someday, when I have my own place, there will be raspberry canes.  Oh yes, there will be.  Raspberries and tomato plants and roses and lavender and herbs.  Fresh and sunwarmed raspberries are just yummilicious.  The only time that they are better is if they are served as dessert after a just-picked-from-the-vine tomato sandwich.  Mm-mm-mm!