The prodigal chef returns.
Obviously, I have not made this blog a priority. There are several reasons, some of them petty, some of them dreamy, and some of them practical. The main reason that I do not write about food anymore is that I have shown very little creativity with it the past year. I've been boring to a large extent, but another truth is that once a man has 50 original and excellent recipes, he does not need many more. On those rare days I am not laid up with food poisoning yet again or out in the mountains (now as a group leader and organizer often), I just whip up something I have been craving for months, already documented here in the old posts.
There was an exception recently though, when a dented can of beets (29 cents!) reminded me that I used to slave over the stove some rare nights to make "maroonara" sauce; a beet-tomato blend that goes amazing over eggplant and pasta. Well, I was struck by a sudden epiphany and realized I wanted that sauce, and that canned beets would be easier. They sure were. The result was better than ever thanks to Herbs de Provence. Here is the easy recipe:
Maroonara Sauce
Simmer over stove on low-medium heat for 30 min or so:
1 can tomato sauce (unseasoned)
1/2 can beets (take a potato masher to them, or use a fork to chop them up)
3-4 tbsp olive oil
1-2 tspn balsalmic vinegar
Herbs de Provence
Garlic powder
Onion powder
White pepper
Crushed red pepper flakes
That's it. I had delicious pasta for a week. As a matter of fact, I am making another small pot of this lovely little sauce right now. Try it with a few shavings of your favorite mid-price cheese. I am using fontinella right now, but want to try feta as well. I also suggest a few pistachios, which as I've said before, is a luxury on pasta. You can't beat 5 gourmet meals in a week for under $3 total!
But here is where this article gets truly interesting- are you ready? I was out of tomato paste one night while making a pizza, which sounded delicious beyond the bounds of depression (which does come on when mountain season ends, a man has dealt with lingering foot problems all summer, he's constantly getting sick, a check for 4 figures has disappeared in the mail, and his car has been in the shop for a week while waiting for $10 worth of teeny bolts to be shipped to his mechanic for a not-that-serious repair). (Long sentences and bad punctuation: how did you do all these months without them?!) Well, rather than walk to the grocery for a second time that day I decided to try my maroonara sauce on the pizza. I hesitated because that would burn up half my reserves, but live a little, you know? Its easy to make more.
That pizza was another in my recent line of successes. I have had several of the best pizzas of my life this year, all in a row. My "Beetza" was by far the best though. Tangy, and a little exotic, I wolfed it down in a single sitting. I am going to make another Beetza soon. Here is the recipe below. It too is easy.
Make your favorite dough and get it laid out flat. I am doing just a plain wheat dough right now because it rises better than other rarer flours I like to play with. I use 50-50 split of whole wheat and white flour.
Spread maroonara sauce liberally, and then choose your toppings and cheeses. For my exact picks, read the next paragraph.
then sprinkle over freshly washed sprouts (my mix is alfalfa, cabbage, Chinese red cabbage, radish, and clover and I grow them myself). Then sprinkle your Herbs de Provence- not too heavily because it is in the sauce too. Then toppings: 1/3 of a zucchini, julienned, 1/4 of a red bell pepper, diced, a handful of diced black olives, 12 slices pepperoni, a few pinches of pineapple, and 3 oz mozzarella cheese.
My other pizza glories were using white sauce. You can buy a Soup Starter at the store that is a basil alfredo base. As a soup, I think its paltry, or as a sauce over noodles. But on a pizza with plenty of fresh tomatoes, zuchini, peppers, olives, and spinach leaves, with a bold cheese mix such as cheddar and parmesan, it is really excellent.
Well, this was fun- and shockingly short for me. There may be hope for me yet. I hope the 3 or 4 people who still remember Camila and I ever existed as Internet muses, or sprites, of spirits, or whatever, and who come across this post will enjoy these easy ways to sneak beets into the diet. The only thing better is the Beet Beer from the Beers of the Apocalypse Series, but that is off the market now, I believe. Stay tuned, because I will surely write another article within the next twelve months.
Probably a tribute to pumpkin in the next thirty days I think. After my first pumpkin ravioli from scratch.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Beetza!
Monday, December 3, 2012
This Isn't A Party
Your weekly recipe, plus so much more. But not a squash review. I got burned out on squashes, so that will come next week sometime when I try the last 3 varieties.
Well, at least I got practice making cookie dough from scratch. Whipped up 2 large batches of gingerbread and one double batch of spiced "sugar" cookies, which actually I would personally call "Dutch butter" cookies, because I put a BOX of butter into them following the recipe. I was pretty sure this was written down wrong. I'd personally have to say that this is a waste of money. Sure butter is delicious, but a box of butter is like eating a whole pizza at once. This does not in any way enhance the flavor of the first slice. They are good, but so are regular sugar cookies and they don't destroy your heart while also working over your teeth. I think one or the other sort of damage should be enough.
This all produced approximately 200 cookies of palm size. And I will tell you from refusing to use a provided electric mixer (I don't own one) that there is no better forearm and abdominal workout than baking gingerbread. Any kind of kneading and rolling is nice exercise, but gingerbread is a hearty dough, and I woke up Sunday morning with a shredded stomach and no memory of working out. Then I realized it was the full body pressing and rolling that did it. I had to roll everyone's because they thought they would break the table or hurt the dough or something by leaning into it. Plus 9 year olds are not as staunch and buff as you and I were, to be sure. I had the dough ready for guests who by some accident of rudeness came early (who does that?) and not fashionably late, and also, The Mrs showed up 11 seconds before her friends, so all the grunt work was mine.
So it was fun anyway. And yes people could eat cookies before electricity. I have proved this, which even a few several 60+ year olds were trying to argue with me when I suggested I would just stir the dough by hand and knead it instead of mixing. The Mrs suggested this would somehow break the whole baking process and the cookies would not work. Not true. Carpal tunnel syndrome knows no better cure than a good kneading either. And yes, in those pictures above you do see a gingerbread Eiffel Tower, a gingerbread hand-cut teapot, a gingerbread Batman symbol, an authentically frosted Poke-ball (there was a 9 year old here remember), the Liberty Bell with 2 pigment frosted crack, Mario's face, and Salvador Dali as a purple-mustached toddler hippo in overalls. I think Dali would approve of that particular rendition of his person. And all from scratch, except for the frosting. Though we did color it ourselves from white.
I am sure you have recipes for cookies, so I am not offering them, but I do suggest adding nutmeg and extra ginger to your gingerbread. I made mine extra strong and have received no end of compliments on it. The best compliment is watching people pig on it. And for original cookie shapes, I suggest a Viennese, or teardrop spatula, which I have to find a task it is ill-suited to. They are surprisingly hard to find though.
***
Teresa and I made burgers that evening, with some organic grass-fed beef I found on super clearance. They were tremendous. Here are 2 recipes for burgers, one of which I offered before:
1. My favorite
1 lb ground beef
1/8 cup raisins
1/8 cup Italian seasoned bread crumbs
1 tsp Onion powder
1 tbsp Urban Accents Mongolian Ginger BBQ mix (mustard powder, sugar, sea salt, minced garlic, orange peel, ginger, spinach powder, pepper, wasabi powder- if you can't find it, you may be able to simulate it off that with a pinch of everything. Or get lazy and just use mustard and ginger. Probably close.)
2. A new great one
1 lb ground beef
1/8 cup craisins
1 tsp onion powder
1 tbsp Herbs de Provence
Herbs de Provence is a delicious aromatic mix similar to Italian seasonings great on pizza, potatoes, and apparently, in hamburgers. The Mrs is wild for them. To pick out a good bottle of Herbs de Provence, look for a glass bottle you can see through and count your lavender flowers. This (and fennel seed) is really what separates the mix from Italian seasoning, and a cheaper mix will have only a few crushed purple bulbs, while a good mix will be rife with them.
***
Because I, like Homer Simpson, and early East Coast Native Americans, cannot resist cheap pork, I have a freezer full of meat again. I digress here but I read one story during the King Philip's War, where some colonists were able to lure many "savage" warriors to their deaths by offering a pork feast. Not with promises of truce or friendship or under a white flag. They simply put down their muskets and cooked some pork up. The Natives all came trooping in, had a good meal, and then calmly went about being stabbed to death, seemingly considering it a good bargain. Well, we even wound up with some turkey drumsticks, though poultry scares me, as I've mentioned. These were huge too, and probably genetically enhanced and hopped up on drugs. I hope the bird had a nice life, and they were semi-local, meaning from within the state, or so I think. After a raucous Thanksgiving which reminded me what an odd and bastardized celebration it has become, Teresa and I made Jamaican Jerk smoked turkey legs which I thought were great. She felt they were too smokey, though in my limited experience, smoked anythings are for men, Germans, and especially, German men. That includes smoked beer, which is interesting, if not inspired. Along with our turkey we made Patriot Potatoes once again, and I offer the basic ingredients below.
1 red potato, 1 purple potatoes, 1 yukon gold potato
1/4 stick of butter
A little milk
Herbs de Provence or "The Gourmet Collection Roast Vegetable and Fry Mix" (salt, onion powder, paprika, red pepper, sugar, mustard powder, garlic, celery seed, black pepper, coriander, oregano, cumin, sage- again, you may be able to fabricate this if you can't find the real thing or something close, though I expect with this one you can)
1/8 cup Bread Crumbs
Kerry Gold Dubliner Cheese or a well aged cheddar if you can't find that one
Green peas, corn, black beans, or kidney beans (all optional)
I usually eat the potatoes plain the first go around and then to warm leftovers in a toaster oven, I top with some thin cheese and bake the bread crumbs on top. To each his own.
Now why is Thanksgiving so odd? Well, like many holiday get togethers with friends or family I end up at, mostly people just sighed about how tired they were and how thankful they were it would all be over soon. Also, no one needs a feast, vast amounts of food were left over which no one seemed to want, certain people started getting on other certain people's nerves, no one remembers even the phony history we made up to justify the holiday and make our ancestors look good (which is a sweet lie for the children, by the way, and maybe helps them start off as better people), and everyone spent 80 % of the party saying they really had to be somewhere else and that they were going to get their coats and go (I hate long goodbyes. If you are at my place and say you need to go, you'd better get out faster than I can pull off a band-aid, or I will kick you out, be all here or don't be here at all), and the most resounding thing I heard all day was "we've never been able to shop as a family on Black Friday before, so we're all really excited to spend some time together tomorrow." Um, can I even add commentary to that?
***
Your unsolicited musical advice for this week: Arvo Part's Fratres is a serial composition which is very beautiful. You can find it on Amazon under just that title by the label Naxos for not very much money, or perhaps your local library. The story behind the piece is even better: in an occupied/domineered USSR nation, some of Stalin's henchmen were always about meddling and threatening composers, which they masked as compliments and suggestions from the great man, such as "Comrade Stalin advises against getting lost in serial compositions, re-exploring already-completed works. Just get it right the first time." Which in Russian translates to, "do you want to end up in a gulag or a dumpster?" Arvo Part then began serializing his little piece Fratres right after. So the music is both stirring, and the chamber hall equivalent of a pair of raised middle fingers to a dictator. Way to go Arvo, who I believe is still composing.
Friday, August 24, 2012
B and E Dinner Parties Presents:
Double decker lasagnas and 10 stack at the Wirth home.
A B and E Dinner Party is shorthand for a Breaking and Entering Dinner Party. This is done when you show up at the front door of a friend around dinner time, ring the bell, or just walk in, with arms full of ingredients, ransack the kitchen for pans, push your friends out to go relax, and forcibly cook them a delicious meal and make them enjoy it. That is the ideal. If the friends live 45 minutes away, then probably call first, and ask if its allright if you stop by to hang out, and oh by the way, since you are inviting yourself, you will cook. The idea was loved by Teresa and my friends, the Wirths, Misty and Jonathan. We texted them at gunpoint, that we were going to Cabela's, the world's funniest store, to buy me some bear pepper spray, and that since they live across the "street" (3 mile wide 12 lane freeway), we wanted to make the drive worth it by coming over. I would prepare a lasagna, I promised. Almost immediately, the love began, and enthusiasm. Some fake kicking and screaming is always nice when arranging a B and E Dinner Party, but its hard to get most people to throw a fit when you offer to come to their home and pamper them. Unless you are not fun to be around. And when I am not in wild bear mode, I am damn charming and funny- when I want to be. My favorite backhanded compliment ever received and a very poignant one was: "You're a LOT of fun to be around...when you want to be." Which was this person's way of saying, "when your lip descends into that sulk-face scowl and you start getting shy, oh my god, I wish I had never been born and you are either a pain or terrifying to even be in a room with. A real madman." But I was in a great mood this night. Plus I can cook.
Cabela's is the funniest store in the world for many reasons. For 1, they have stuffed animals everywhere (the shot with a rifle kind) and fake trees, whose leaves change color with the seasons. Approximately 1 mile of floorspace is dedicated to racks of expensive luxury guns with all kinds of bells and whistles. Another 1 mile is dedicated to camouflage; underwear, fluffy pajamas, socks, beanies, gloves, face paint, ponchos, umbrellas, and anything else you can think of that hunters did not need until 1961 when Cabela's got a bold idea: lets invent a huge warehouse sized store with a whole lot of yuppie shit in it to target an untapped demographic that the gods of materialism and capitolism themselves could not extort: independent tough guy hunters. Let's soften them up, butter them up, and break them down until they cannot live without our 2XL tee shirts that read: "You don't get to be a big fat fisherman without catching a lot of big fat fish!" and "You know what they say about skinny hunters: they're the ones who can't shoot and have to run after a lot of missed game!" I made up one of those tee shirts by the way. Okay, I made up both. But if I pitched them to Cabela's, both would be best sellers by next Friday. Clothes run large at Cabela's, and so do the bags of candy, the socks that go mid-thigh high for men (the butch equivalent of fishnet stockings?), the wading boots, fishing nets, travel sheds, meat processors, jerkey smokehouses, beer fridges, and everything else, especially the tabs. As most items in Cabela's cost $350 or more, most people there will spend thousands of dollars. Or wish they could. Many men just spend entire weekends there, dreaming of all the crap they can buy to shoot elks with. Like hunting chairs, which are hung in a tree, screwed in really, thus killing the tree, or starting its process of infection and rot, so a hunter can sit still scratching his ass and nose all day and then shoot anything that comes under his tree to lick a drop of honey. Sounds like the sport of kings to me. Country music plays endlessly, and for all or anyone else can tell, it might just be a single country song on a loop. Who can say? Not even Toby Keith knows if he's written more than one song or not, I reckon.
Well, I needed a laugh and some bear pepper spray, so it was time for another Cabela's run. Also I need more thick socks, as my brown winter boots slip a lot since they are too big. Socks were not quite easy to find, but there was a great selection and I have some pairs that should work, though I passed on the $21 pair of Smartwool merino socks. Honestly, $21?! I paid $16 for 2 pairs I've used on approximately 500 hikes and still smart from it. They're only socks. I got 2 other pairs for $20. Here is to hoping they work. I do not believe merino wool claims that the same fabric will keep me cool in summer and warm in winter by the way. Wool is not a summer fabric, but I just need my feet to not slip and slide. Bear pepper spray turned out even easier to find. At REI it is hidden behind counters so children can't pry open the package with their trusty pen knife, accidentally flick off the large safety catch, and then shoot themselves or anyone else with glowing orange super-strong pepper spray from 30 feet away. At Cabela's, its pretty much under a spotlight and the rack takes up an eighth of a mile. But Cabela's carries the good brand: UDAP, which comes in a better can with a smaller safety catch, a free shoulder holster for spraying without removing it (held against the chest, it basically self aims so all one need do is flick off the latch) and costs only $35 for 7.9 ounces. The REI brand of choice is Counter Assault, basically the same formula, spray, and can sizes, but it costs more and you have to buy a holster separate which really adds up. Also I dislike the safety latch. Mace is at Sports Authority and is also the same basic formula, bottle and price, but the safety latch is comically large and will be difficult not to trigger. The holster is sold separate and costs more than it is worth as it was cheap to even look at. Any brand is probably comparable, but I feel more comfortable going to Cabela's, laughing like crazy, and so forth. Back to our story.
What sounded good was a lasagna with zucchini and eggplant, but I had to add ground pork sausage as the Wirths are meat people. And anyway, I came home at 178 lbs and I want to be 190 by Tuesday or Wednesday when I may leave for the next 3 week mountain trip and will lose weight by the second. I am only up to 181.5 lbs, but you know what they say: "you don't get fat on salad." I made 2 batches, one "Boring", and one "The Works." "The Works" had shredded zucchini (cheese grater), diced olive, eggplant slices, pork sausage, tomatoes, onion powder, minced garlic, fresh basil, noodles, tomato sauce, mushrooms, green pepper and balsamic vinegar, olive oil, and crushed red pepper in the sauce, plus ricotta, parmesan, and mozzarella cheese. "The Boring" left out the mushrooms, peppers, eggplant, balsamic vinegar, and crushed red pepper. Strangely, "The Boring" was better. This bell pepper was so strong it drowned out the basil especially, but all the flavors. Well, there were 2 dishes, and after an hour of easy jolly prepping, joking, with plenty of assistance from all, and 30 minutes baking, the 4 of us ate most of both dishes. 2 of 14 pieces were left over. Our sides were provided by the hosts: blackberry fusion jello with whipped cream: excellent. A delicious cantelope, and a too salty "everything" french bread with a lot of stuff on it. Everyone but me LOVED that bread. We drank berry sodas and played 10 stack too. 10 stack is played with 4 decks of cards, with different backs. Each player plays a small game of solitaire, feeding aces into the middle for pool scoring. You get one point for each card you pile into the middle: only a 2 of spades can go on an ace of spades, and so on up to Kings. You also have 2 draw piles: one is a hidden stack of 10 cards that you lose 2 points for each one you fail to clear before the round ends, when one player calls out "clear" when their 10 stack is gone. It got violent, and by violent, I mean, that my rival for the night, phenom player Misty, and pseduo-inventor of the game, both threw down 3 of clubs, with hers just eclipsing mine, though she paid for it with a gash across her hand from my thumb nail. "Come to the middle hard or don't come at all," I proclaimed, only a little guilty for severely wounding her and weakening her play from there on out due to blood loss. When that got old, we did some "Who would win?" card game, where you play one event card, 2 characters, and then debate who would win. The point is to debate and have fun. Its a simple game and one I think I improved by the following trick: reveal one character first and start taking bets, then the other, and then the event card. This way you get some cool matchups: Stephen Hawking verses Spider Man. Obviously as Spiderman is brainy, Stephen Hawking can only win in a single category: physics. So I started asking odds from everyone. Who will give me 5 to 1 to take Hawking on the off chance there is a physics seminar as the event card about to be turned over? (I lost badly) But you also get some matchups like Barbie verses Santa Clause, Frankenstein's Monster verses Lance Armstrong (added later: extra funny after his Oprah interview a year later!). Popeye verses Bill Cosby was a good one. I took the odds offered me on Cosby and won because it was a crossword puzzle for the event. Brains over brawn baby!
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Friday, September 23, 2011
Farm Stand Fresh Ideas (Buckles, Salsas, Etc)
Mango Peach Salsa and Peach Plum Buckles, plus a little story and a little beer review.
I am in a very productive place with produce right now. I am in a zone, as they say in the sports world. I made a second zucchini and eggplant lasagna better than the last one I mentioned last post. I made some spinach and lemon hummus that is so good it nearly drove me mad, which only one hummus ever did to me- and that was one I forgot to mention in my Pacific Northwest Review, somehow. Comic story, which I will save for later. I have made only one mistake in my cooking recently. Just now while simmering up a batch of peach mango salsa from off the top of my head (as in no recipe or even a glance at similar recipes), I stopped at half a peach, and half of my raspberries and tomatoes. I should have used all the peach, and all my other ingredients on stock. Its that good. Mild, but delicious. Here is the recipe, written down for the first time on this earth (you can't beat that deal) and someday to be top secret property of "Ye King's Nostril", my pub that will be named after the Inn in the background of a scene from one of the greatest Looney Tune shorts ever made: "The Scarlet Pumpernickel", starring Daffy Duck.
For a single jar: 6 small or roma tomatoes, 1/2 peach with skin, 1/2 cup rounded of raspberries, 1 anaheim pepper (for mild) or 1 jalapeno (for strong) (I did the mild), 1 clove garlic, 1/3 of a green bell pepper, 2 tbsp olive oil, 2 tbsp brown sugar, onion powder, several crushed leaves of dry cilantro, 1/8 cup corn kernals, 1/8 cup black beans, a little corn starch at the end for thickening.
Dice it, mash it a bit, boil then reduce to a simmer and let it go for 30 minutes or so on low. Add the corn and black beans near the end. Tinker as you see fit. Serve in any obvious way, with tortilla chips, or make someone's day by serving it in my newest, latest, genius breakfast, Huevos Rancheros Achille.
Its really not such a secret is it? Pretty obvious once you hear the title. The trick is just thinking a bit outside the norm to come up with rare ideas. Is anyone talentless enough to make a truly bad salsa?
Also made my second buckle: an old-fashioned crust-less fruit pie that is easy to make with fruit and basic batter in a skillet (traditionally; cowboys ate them supposedly over their campfires), or a baking pan. My first buckle was made with Cam and was detailed on an old post from several years ago (oh God, I'm so very old...well, not really), a Peach and Blackberry, which was "traditional" in that we; cooked it in a cast-iron frying pan, and used a 1:1 ratio of flour to sugar, with all bleached flour, and used a whole stick of butter for our 1 cup of flour and sugar, making it, very sweet, very evidently a dessert, and not the least bit healthy. This time I decided to do a fake vintage buckle. I coarsened the batter up with whole wheat flour, changed the flour to sugar ratio to 2:1, added an 8 grain gritty cereal mix, ground flaxseeds, wheat germ, oat flakes, and reduced the butter a little by using one stick for 2 cups of flower and 1 of sugar. I also left the skin on the peaches, which Cam was against when we were sharing a kitchen and chef duties. Here is how to try the Peach Plum Buckle:
2 cups whole wheat flour, 1/8 cup Bob's Mill 8 Grain Hot Cereal Mix (wheat free version; which is delicious for baking, though I tend not to just cook it up as it is meant to be used, not that there is anything wrong with it, but I prefer standard old style oat flakes with crushed walnuts, craisins, milk, brown sugar, spices and a dollop of honey), 1 cup mixed brown and white sugar, 3 peaches, 8-12 plums (if organic and small "real" sized; if grocery store goliath plums the size of apples then try 3-4), 2 tbsp or so wheat germ, 3-4 tbsp ground flaxseed, 1 tbsp baking powder (you don't want much rise), 1 stick butter, 1 tsp vanilla, 1 tsp molasses, cinammon, allspice, and nutmeg, 2 whole eggs, 2 tbsp vegetable oil.
Dice the fruit, mix in with your dry ingredients, add your eggs and oil and the rest. Warm your butter and then add that in. Drip in water as you lightly toss. No need to beat, just get everything homogenized. Grease two standard pie tins or a big fry pan or whatever else you feel like using, pour it all in, bake for 30 minutes or so at 350 degrees. Just use the finger pat test to see when its done. Could a "pie" be simpler. Its really a bread pie, and can be served with dinner as a bread, or after dinner as dessert. Unless you add more sugar it is really going to pass with applause as either. A touch more sugar would push it over the edge into a confectionary. Had three "in-laws" try it and all were adamant not to put it more sugar. And they have a "sweet" tooth like the rest of us. Judge it by your produce; if you have good quality fresh fruit, don't add more sugar. If its out of season, then maybe hide that a bit with an extra 1/8 cup of white refined. Or just double the vanilla or the cinammon.
Now for my story: In Oregon one reason I did not try all the food I wanted at "The Mark" was that there were several appetizing restaurants around, and I talked Teresa into "Mediterranean food", which I had to describe to her- a good enough reason right there to make her eat some. This place seemed authentic, so we thought we could not go wrong. Well, one cannot expect the unexpected- that is what makes it the unexpected. Little did I consider when entering a restaurant that the food might, rather than being good, bad, or okay, that it might be, instead, non-existent. We found a table. Going good. We placed an order. And things were fine thus far. We sat and waited. And waited some more. And then a little more. 45 minutes pass. No food. There are other people sitting around. No food for them. People who came in before us did not have food. No one was eating at all. Things began to get awkward. After all, this WAS a restaurant. I think someone was about to walk out. I think it might have been everyone had one person done it first, but the patience of the crowd cowed us. I was about to start the exodus however. I only stayed out of pure impotent incredulity; a kind of morbid scientific curiosity. That is, I just could not take my eyes off the clock. Here was a complainer's fantasy! Here was a once in a lifetime chance to find out how long people would go with a gag! So we stayed, but at last, I had had enough. After all, "The Mark" was attached to our charming hotel down the street. The wait staff was excellent. The food was unrivaled, at least to my knowledge, in Oregon. The waitress, a cute, but groundhog-like creature hiding in her hole somewhere, must have sensed the danger I represented as a potential leader, and brought T and I some kind of lemon and chicken cream soup, gratis. Very well, we stayed. The soup was excellent. Then came some free hummus, which was, upon the first bite, so good it nearly drove me mad. Teresa had to dip a pita chip at her own risk, because a large platter was half gone and I was in Olympic Diver stance, ready to bathe in the stuff. No one else got these freebies. The descendants of the Romans know a docile mob without a head when they see one...finally after well over an hour, our food came. And we were both full by then. I actually overtipped the adorable little Esmeralda who had avoided eye contact all night. I do not know where the food was. Perhaps they were slaughtering a lamb in the back parking lot, or perhaps their lead cook just sat down, folded his arms, stuck four cigarrettes in his mouth and said, (in a garble) "not tonight: You don't pay me enough, you yell at me, now this is happening." And he had to be replaced or worked around or co-erced with some gypsy potion or tambourine dance. I do not know. This nearly dinner-less dinner ate up our whole evening, but that hummus has had me tinkering like an alchemist over my blender all summer long to try to rediscover it like a culinary Shangri La.
Had one interesting beers recently. Dubbhe is a local to Utah, a beer that should not exist: a black IPA made with hemp, which should not work. I will explain. An IPA is an India Pale Ale, a kind of pale ale made British style, that is to say, bitter. Really it is akin to an English Bitter dulled or made milder with the pale ale. It is a summer drink refreshing in hot weather, that was sent to India during the colonial days. How one can make a black pale ale, I do not know, nor why one would try. As to why one would then adulterate an adulterated IPA further with hemp, well its like starting with an apple pie, but making it an apple crisp instead, and then using peaches instead of apples. I bought this beer out of pre-annoyance, a condition only very advanced individuals like myself can achieve, where one is already annoyed by using powers of prescience. It is a kind of sentiment on credit. One can only verify pre-annoyance, or prenoyance, as it is called in the academic literature. There is only an anti-climactic confirmation, a kind of satisfied, smug, "I knew I would be annoyed by this," when the normal mortal person would just begin to feel their annoyance. However, a strange thing happened. The beer is good. Really good. That is a first for a hemp beer for me, and it disappointed me, in that it did not allow me to superior and annoyed, which is a habit of mine. I can only conclude that the letters IPA were put on the bottle as a sales point. Few beer drinkers know what IPA stands for, and fewer care. They buy an IPA because an IPA tastes good without having too much flavor to offend anybody. It is now merely a buzz word that means nothing at all, except that in this case, it means, "please buy this weird beer we made. Its really good, and you'll see that if you just try it. P.S.: I!P!A!!!!!" Good for them, I think. And who knew a good beer could or would ever be brewed in Utah. Put on your best suit, the judgement day may be on the way.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
why I am not a vegan
So, I am a vegetarian. For lots of reasons - environmental, health, moral and also, to be totally honest, because I really just don't like meat that much. It was a completely logical and natural decision for me to give up meat.
Why not just eat less meat? Why not stop eating meat, but without any fuss? Why bother to identify as a "Vegetarian?" Answer: it's easier. It's easier to not eat meat if you have made the unilateral decision not to -- easier to explain to people why you're passing over the main course. "I don't like meat" is an insult to your host. "I'm vegetarian," much more of an exonerating explanation. And it's easier to resist eating the occasional chicken salad, which at this point, might make me sick.
I understand there's a certain amount of baggage to picking up any label - for vegetarians, stereotypes about crazy evangelical types, or delusional "oh-i-couldn't-hurt-any-creature" types. If you eat meat, you really ought to check out your local farmers market to see if you can buy some chicken or beef that was raised humanely and sustainably -- that's about as evangelical as I ever get. And personally, I firmly believe that animals raised for human use should be treated decently, allowed to grow up healthy and be killed painlessly - but I wear leather. I kill flies without guilt. And I am not a vegan.
Sometimes I think I should be a vegan. Especially when you consider the sheer awfulness of commercial egg production, and the difficulty of obtaining local dairy (basically impossible to make a living with small- or medium-scale milk production these days). And I don't really like drinking milk at all, and while I enjoy the occasional poached egg, I'm not a huge fan of boiled, scrambled or sunny-side up. And I have absolutely nothing against vegans or veganism. It seems completely legitimate and reasonable to me, as long as your soymilk is B12-fortified.
But:
Life without CHEESE? life without YOGURT???
life without.... heavy cream??? and butter?
You can't see me, but I am basically swooning at the thought. Look, I completley understand those of you who say, "yeah, sure, I see why you want to be a vegetarian, but I could NEVER give up steak." Because me, I could never give up cheese, not of my own accord.
Goat cheese. Cheddar cheese. Brie. Gruyere -- oh, gruyere! Stilton, jack, creamy ricotta... what would tiramisu be without marscapone? What would pasta be without parmesan? And what, I ask you, what would pizza be without mozzerella? The horror!
Vegan cheese? That's like those people who consider carob an acceptable substitute for chocolate. Look, I'm trying, world. I want to do this right. But I am not, in my heart, an ascetic. I believe in pleasure! In flavor! In taste! I BELIEVE IN CHEESE!
And it's not just cheese. Having tart yogurt with fresh berries on a bright summer morning seems to me a valid reason to be alive. (Speaking of which, I think I need a yogurt-maker. Andrew's math is quite convincing me that it would be a good investment).
And heavy cream and butter... well, there's a bit of a paradox. Savory-food-wise, I'm all about the healthiness. It seems to go hand in hand with flavor; brown rice, wheat bread, lots of fresh vegetables, lightly-dressed salads, fruit. It's tasty, it's good for you, life is wonderful!
But when it comes to desserts... well. Don't get me wrong, fresh fruit for dessert is good, but by all that's holy, there's nothing to beat tarts, cookies, pies, chocolate, ice cream, crepes, chocolate, cakes, mousses, chocolate... and with the singular exception of sorbet, I simply cannot bake, freeze, chill or fry a great dessert without butter, cream or eggs. I'm sorry, vegans and the lactose-intolerant. Ya'll have some pretty good desserts. I've had some quite tasty vegan cupcakes. But I can't give up heavy cream and butter. I won't!
And speaking of reasons to justify human existence, I nominate ganache. In fact, I nominate ganache as one of the most incredible substances on earth. Totally delicious, wonderfully textured, the perfect filling, frosting, topping, or base -- and nothing but chocolate, heavy cream and heat. I make mine with a bowl, a measuring cup, a microwave and a fork. It is a primary reason for my joy in life
The best substitute vegans have for ganache is tofu mixed with chocolate. Which sounds tasty and all (actually, yeah, it does -- I like tofu, I really do). But. No substitute. Nowhere close.
Anyway, the whole point of this epic post was actually supposed to be how much I love cheese. It's a lot, in case you missed that. In honor of cheese, here are a couple of dinners I made this last week. Actually, I could have just put these recipes here under that title, and it would have made about the same point. Oh well.
Goat Cheese and Tomato Tart.
This is SO easy and delicious. Tarts, I have discovered in my last month of frantic tart-baking (I shall have to describe my epic tart pan quest sometime) are greatly undervalued as a food type. They are much easier than pies, and look very impressive, which is also a plus.
1 savory tart shell, unbaked (try this recipe for pate brisee)
1/2 log of goat cheese
Olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
Spices of choice (I used dried basil and oregano)
Really delicious tomatoes of choice (I had a great big yellow one and some red cherry tomatoes)
Fresh basil (I used green and purple)
Salt and pepper
Tart shells are really easy to make if you have a food processor, and pretty easy even if you don't, Make yours, and chill in the refrigerator for an hour or more to make your life easier. Of course, I just stuck mine in the freezer for 15 minutes, because how often am I thinking that far ahead?
Roll out the chilled dough between two sheets of floured wax paper. Make sure the paper isn't sticking -- sprinkle flour on the dough as necessary. When thick enough to cover your tart pan, lay the dough round over your pan, press in and trim/press off the excess dough.
Your hardest part is over. Now, take about 1/4 cup of goat cheese and soften it in the microwave. Add a couple of tablespoons of olive oil, the minced garlic and dried spices. Mix well and spread on the bottom of your tart crust (this will keep your tomatoes from making your crust soggy). Spread a layer sliced tomatoes on top of this. Dot generously with goat cheese. Add more tomatoes, and if you really like goat cheese -- like me! -- dot generously again. Top with some salt and pepper.
Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes, or until the crust is browned and the tomatoes look deliciously soft. Remove, top with sliced fresh basil, and serve with a salad.
Say "AHHHH I love goat cheese! I'm so glad I'm not vegan!"
Summer Vegetable Frittata
1 baby yellow squash, sliced
1 baby zucchini, sliced
1 medium onion, diced
1 medium bell pepper, diced
A few carrots, sliced (what? I can't remember how many it was!)
2 cloves garlic, minced
Olive or canola oil
5 eggs
3/4 cup grated cheddar cheese
A few tablespoons of milk or cream
1/8 cup fresh parsley, chopped
Salt, pepper and any other spices your heart desires (I used a pinch of dried oregano)
Prep your veggies -- or better yet, recruit somebody else to. In a bowl or large measuring cup, beat your eggs with a fork, then mix in the cheese, milk (okay, yeah, I used heavy cream here... maybe I love the stuff for things other than desserts), parsley and spices. You should end up with at least a cup and a half of gooey, unvegan delight. I was closer to 2.
In a medium cast-iron (VERY IMPORTANT) pan over medium-high heat, saute your vegetables in a generous amount of oil. You want to make them all almost-but-not-quite done.
My advice: start with the minced garlic (it will brown away to nothing by the end, but the flavor will be wonderfully dispersed) and the carrots. Stir for a minute or two, then add the squashes. Stir for a minute or two, then add the onions and pepper. Keep stirring for another 3 minutes or so, then sample them. Nothing should be mushy, but nothing should be crunchy. Don't you love my technical terms?
Add a bit more oil, because you don't want your frittata to stick, then pour your gooey goodness into the pan. Stir until everything seems will-dispersed, then STOP STIRRING. Turn the heat down to medium, and let your frittata sit for a while. Something like 7 minutes, maybe? At any rate, it should firm up so that when you shake the pan, it seems to jiggle, not slop.
The top will still look firmly underdone. There's a solution! Put the whole thing in the oven under the broiler. Broil for a few minutes, or until the top looks nicely set up. Don't wait until it browns, though -- firm and yellow is good enough.
Remove from oven. Slice in the pan. Do try not to burn yourself in the process. Personally, I am convinced that my fingers will eventually turn into asbestos and this won't be a problem someday.
Serve to delighted nonvegans with crusty bread and a potato-feta salad! Or, you know, whatever salad you like. That's just my recommendation as a clueless cook.