Excuses

So it's January 7, and after several good months of about 5 blogs a month, I've seem to have totally lost all discipline. There are reasons for this.

1) It was December. There's snow outside. While you may be thinking, yes, but the snow is outside and the blogging is inside, but it really doesn't work that way. You see, I love looking at snow and playing in snow at appropriate times. It's beautiful and full of delicious sparkle, with excellent entertainment possibilities. I do not like snow when I am, say, returning from dutifully parking my shopping cart in the shopping cart shed (unlike you other, irresponsible shoppers who use the eager little shopping carts, only to abandon them like onion skins in a busy kitchen, for some shivering high school student to wrangle at a later point after they careen around the parking lot for a while). No, I do not like returning from parking my shopping cart, reaching in my purse for my keys and finding myself face-first in a pile of icy snow. It is extremely cold and wet. It turns me off things. Like good moods. And the stupid shoes I was wearing. And blogging. I'd rather brood.

2) I'm was putting on Christmas. Between frantic phonecalls with long-distance loved ones and between repititions of "hang up your coat" and "don't track those boots through the house," I've managed to decorate a real house for the first time by myself. I've been married for three years, but our first house was ugly and odd, and the Christmas tree had to be shoved into a side room where no one could see it. The fireplace was purple... and honestly, a lot of the Christmas decorations had seen better days. Last year, we were in this house but P's office took up most of it. This year, everything is settled. Christmas decorating takes a lot of work!

3) I haven't been feeling so good. Given that I commonly blog about food, the fact previously-considered-delicious smells now make my stomach remember deep-sea fishing in choppy waters off the coast of south Texas, really isn't all that conducive to juicy descriptions recent dinners. "How To Cook Spaghetti and Meatballs That Barely Stay Down" isn't exactly the most appetizing headline.

4) Here's the biggest reason, my most significant distraction, the most important piece of news. Drumroll please...

I'M HAVING A BABY!

I found out for at the beginning of December, and can't seem to focus on much else. So far I've making sure to continue paying the bills, sort-of grocery shop and occasionally make witty observations about how unprepared I'm going to be for this new role in my life (you mean I'm supposed to shop? for hospitals? what is this??). Beyond that, I offer no guarantees.

However, have no fear. I have real plans to start blogging again for real! Soon!

Opera, not Oprah

What with HC attending innumerable rehearsals for our local theater's performance of Godspell in addition to her usual guitar lessons and track practice, I've been spending a lot of time in the car lately. I drive to school to pick her up, wait around while she gets her act together (I could get out of the car and get her attention, but it's cold out there, and I find it rather amusing to watch her dancing silhouette through the big glass doors anyway. I can always tell which one she is by her jazz hands and solo dance rehearsals.) I usually takes her a few minutes. Then I drive her to the theater, an hour later I drive back. Occasionally I drive up the 80 minute round trip to get A from boarding school, and drive him to the Marine recruiting station and back. I drive here and there, I drive hither and yon, I drive, I drive, I drive...

Lesson #1: Driving gets boring after a while.

Especially since my cd player is very finicky, which means most books on cd are rejected (and ejected) out of hand for no apparent reason. Harry Potter, ok. Mix CD #4, REJECTED. Doris Day, sure. Young Men and Fire, REJECTED.

Yes, I have a Doris Day cd. Don't judge.

Luckily, my most precious cd in the world is apparently worthy of my snobbish cd player. In fact, I found the cd itself on one of my more boring chauffeuring expeditions.

After trying to make a mental grocery list, failing, and then pretending to be interested in an NPR special report of Cloud Computing, I decided to take advantage of a few extra minutes and pulled into a favorite haunt of HC and me: Goodwill. I know, I know, not exactly Breakfast at Tiffany's material, but who gets cheered up by looking though the window at stuff they can't afford, anyway, when they could wander on over to Goodwill and find some dirt-cheap treasures? Goodwill is excellent. Goodwill is lovely. Goodwill is, well, good.

Anyway, as I was saying, I took advantage of a few extra minutes and did a quick run-through of the thrift shop. Nothing really jumped out at me, but I stopped by the $3 cd rack just in case. While sorting through the stacks of no-name 90s alt rock bands, easy listening and old-news R&B, a rather scruffy young man approached me from the nearby coat-rack.

"Looking for anything in particular?" he inquired.

"Um, no. Just looking around. Thanks." I replied, keeping my eyes on the piles of unwanted music. I could see he didn't work at Goodwill, and really, I wasn't feeling chatty.

"Well just so you know, I look at those all the time," he said, "and there's never anything good." He turned away, apparently irritated with my less-than-engaging conversation.

Just then, I saw it: 50 Most Unforgettable Moments in Opera. My heart sang! My soul leapt within me. 50 Unforgettable Moments in Opera for only $3! Who could pass up such a thing? That's like a nickle a song! I hesitated only for a moment, as I considered that even the moments turned out to be less than unforgettable, what could it hurt? I took my treasure to the counter and eagerly trudged through the grey afternoon rain to my car, anticipation twinkling in every puddle.

In the car, I breathed a sigh of gratitude that my cd player didn't hiccough at my new acquisition. It immediately whirred and up popped the digital display "Track 1". Excellent! One hurdle down. When the first few strains of "O Mio Bambino Caro" drifted through my speakers, I was optimistic. When the first few notes of Kiri Te Kanawa's heavenly voiced followed, I was jubilant. Never anything good here, my foot! This was pure happiness on a silver disc. This was beauty at my beck and call. This, this was opera.

As it turns out, there are not actually 50 unforgettable moments on this particular cd. I only got about 17, since Vol.s 2 and 3 must still be floating around the Goodwill Super Center somewhere. I went back and looked for them, but no luck -- not that I expected it. I can't expect that level of success with every visit. I couldn't handle it.

Now, when I'm driving around, I blast this, my favorite cd, and am rarely bored. On my way to the grocery store, I sing my shopping list to "La Dona e Mobile," and I once had to pull over while I listened Placido Domingo's to "E Lucevan Le Stelle" so as not to crash into oncoming traffic. Other parents look at me strangely as they walk past my idling car in the theater parking lot, and I can only assume that they, too, are moved by the pure gold emanating out of the cracks and crevices of my little SUV.

That, or at the volume I play it, they're puzzled that it's not gangster rap.

Either way, it transports me (while I transport my stepkids), and I sometimes have a hard time coming back to earth. Occasionally HC jumps in the car bubbling over with news and gossip about school or theater practice, I have to pry myself away from a weeping clown to pay attention. Or...(shhhhh) I just smile and nod for a while.

Judging by the newsstands, there are a great many housewives who are going to have some free time on their hands once Oprah goes off the air. I have a suggestions for them:

You want heart-warming? Try La Boheme.
You want tragedy? Try Tosca.

You want something to give meaning to those domestic days that are less than thrilling? Try Opera, not Oprah.

A Little Advice, or, Making the Best of Stupidity

Yesterday, inspired by smittenkitchen, I decided to do two new and daring things in my kitchen: 1) gratin 2) greens.

By far the most daring thing was combining the two.

So, in a typical act of preparation I started making a grocery list. Now, I could claim that while I was making said list my puppy had an accident, my husband lost his glasses and fell into a symptomatic cursing fit, my stepdaughter needed geometry help and the butternut squash that was supposed to be roasting in the oven caught on fire, but those would just be excuses. Determined, I stuffed the list into my jeans pocket and got the heck out of dodge.

I would like to pause for a moment to recap:

a. I was attempting something daring and new.
b. I was distracted.
c. Even on the best of days, my memory is that of an goldfish.

Now that we're all on the same page, it may not come as a surprise that while I was supposed to come home with whole milk, gruyere cheese, sweet potatoes and fresh swiss chard, what I actually brought home was no milk, smoked gouda, red skinned potatoes and frozen kale.

Also, I forgot that the list was in my pocket and now I have an entire load of laundry flecked with paper pulp.

(Side Note: No, I was not drunk or strategizing world peace. This is just me. My mother chooses to think of it as "easygoing", probably because if it weren't for flexibility and improvisation, I would have starved to death long ago. My fourth grade teacher, on the other hand...well, let's not get into it. Let's just say she will NEVER be my facebook friend no matter how many times she requests it. Revenge is sweet. )

So, what to do with all these flubs? Roll with 'em.

I decided the potatoes were irreconcilable, so I mooched a ride past the store from C while she got lunch. The rest I just improvised.


You can find the original recipes here. Needless to say, I made a few changes, and it is deliciously wonderful. The smoked Gouda adds a wonderful flavor -- so gooda in fact (get it, gouda?) that C thought I'd used bacon. No, I did not use bacon; this is a strictly vegetarian dish. But I always take bacon as a compliment.

My version:

Serves 12

1/4 cup (1/2 stick or 2 ounces) butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 pound chopped frozen kale
Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
2 whole milk (or, if you're like me, use 1.5 cups of heavy cream and 1/2 cup 2%milk)
2 garlic cloves, minced (garlic presses are wonderful and save so much time!)
2 tablespoons flour
2 pounds medium red-skinned sweet potatoes (yams), peeled and cut into 1/8-inch thick rounds
1 tablespoon minced fresh Italian parsley
1 tablespoon minced fresh thyme
Fine sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 cup coarsely smoked Gouda cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 400. Using a heavy pot, sautee the onion in butter until it is soft, and then add the kale, nutmeg and some salt.
2. Combine milk and garlic in small saucepan; bring to simmer; keep warm. Melt 2 tb butter in a small heavy saucepan over moderate heat and stir in flour. Cook roux, whisking, one minute, then slowly whisk in warm cream/milk and boil, whisking, one minute. Season sauce with salt and pepper.
3. Assemble gratin: Butter deep 9×13 baking dish. Layers as follows:

• Half of sweet potatoes
  
• sprinkles salt and pepper
• 1/4 of the herbs
• 1/4 of the cheese
• 1/4 of the greens
• sprinkles salt and pepper
• 1/4 of the herbs
• 1/4 of the cheese
• 1/4 of the greens
• half of bechamel sauce
  
• the remaining sweet potatoes
• sprinkles salt and pepper
• 1/4 of the herbs
• 1/4 of the cheese
• 1/4 of the greens
• more salt and pepper
• the remaining herbs
  
• Pour the remaining sauce over the top of the gratin, spreading it around as evenly as possible.
• Top with the remaining cheese.

Bake for about 50 minutes until golden and bubbly. Let sit for 10 minutes before serving.





Ultimately, life throws all kinds of curve balls, even when you're focused and organized. For those of us that suffer from chronic absentmindedness, curve balls are just a way of life.

A little advice:

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU KALE, MAKE SWISS CHARD GRATIN

A Little Advice, or, All Thai'd Up

(Hmm. I seem to be "up"ing a lot in my post titles recently.
Maybe it's a sign.
I did see that movie "Up" a while ago with HC. It was good, but I wasn't aware of any long-lasting side effects... )


The most significant thing about raising a lovely family, in my opinion, is food. When well-adjusted people wax nostalgic about their formative years, you can bet your bottom dollar they mention food more than...more than...well, working toilets or adequate laundry-turn-over rates or being on time for "Godspell" rehearsal.

Which, in my case, is a pretty good thing.

Cooking I can do! (The other stuff I can do sometimes...sort of.)

Once accustomed into the routine of cooking dinner on a regular basis and even throwing together the occasional pancake or waffle, any domestic darling will come face to face with a common culinary conundrum: leftovers. Even worse, some family members I've heard of won't eat ordinary leftovers. They have to be disguised, transformed, reinvented, before they're considered appropriate nourishment. While I can't relate to this type of dysfunction (in our house labeling a doggy bag is no guarantee of victual security) I can at least help my fellow darlings arm up and prepare for battle.

(Side Note: I'd like to address a disturbing situation that has recently come to my attention. Apparently, some domestic darlings don't keep leftovers. This is not good. This is seriously not good. Leftovers save time and money, two things which are of the upmost importance to those running a household. Also, leftovers can provide some inspiration when nothing else does. The eternal question: what am I going to do with that? looms large in the dinner ponderings. It can produce many a tasty meal which might not otherwise come to be.)

In this post I'll try to illustrate how easy it is to use up some leftover pork chops without making them seem like leftovers. In fact, they won't even look like pork chops!

You ready? Here goes somethin':

The first step, if we're being literal here, is to prepare and serve pork chops to your adoring and gracious family. In my case, it was a couple nights ago, I was uninspired, and it was an off-the-cuff unbreaded, fried in the skillet pork chop meal with asparagus, rice and pan gravy. Boring, but sort of yummy. There were two large bone-in chops leftover.

I kept these leftovers in the back of my mind while I planned other meals. Being that the original preparation didn't have any thing fancy goin' on, I was aware that those pork chops could be turned in to just about anything. I was thinking of something involving pasta and a white sauce, barbecue and maybe even a sandwich or two.

Then, while forcing myself to think about our Thanksgiving menu and therefore leafing through some of my cooking magazines, I came across this bad boy:




Thai Lettuce Wraps. Ohhhhyeah.

I play favorites with Thai food on a regular basis: tom kha soup, pad Thai, panang curry...mmmmmmmm. When I lived in Chicago my apartment was above a Thai restaurant. Oh, for the days of waking up to the wafting smell of coconut milk intermingling with lime and chilis...

Here's the original list of ingredients:


2 pounds ground pork
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 small shallots, minced
1 large jalapeño, seeded and minced, plus sliced jalapeño for garnish
Juice of 1 lime, plus lime wedges, for serving
2 tablespoons Asian fish sauce
1 teaspoon light brown sugar
1 teaspoon Sriracha (chili sauce), plus more for serving
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 cup chopped cilantro
1/2 cup chopped mint
1/2 cup chopped basil
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 cup chopped salted peanuts
1 large head Boston or other leafy lettuce, separated into leaves


The directions are pretty straightforward. Combine the pork, garlic, shallots and jalapeno, and cook together in a skillet. Separately, whisk together all the ingredients listed from lime to chili. Add the mixture to the meat, along with all the rest of the ingredients. Serve wrapped in large pieces of lettuce.

Now, I know you're on the edge of your seat for how I manipulate this recipe. It's really pretty simple:

1. Chop the leftover pork chops into tiny little pieces.

2. Depending on how much there is, use the chopped chops to offset some of the ground pork (I didn't bother. I guess there was just extra pork in mine).

3. Follow the recipe. For some stupid reason involving my lack of discipline in the TJMax food section, I have a jar of dehydrated, chopped shallots which I reconstituted instead of buying fresh ones. They worked fine. I only had one lime and one jalapeno, so I didn't garnish the plates. Besides, my family doesn't really know what to do with garnishes. Once, when P and I were eating sushi I inquired as to why he never ate the wasabi or pickled ginger. Too spicy, I wondered? Too weird? His response: "Oh. That green stuff? I guess I just never took it seriously."

On the other hand, this is the same man who thought wedge salad was supposed to be eaten with the hands, like a piece of watermelon.

4. Serve to your family. They'll never know the history of that pork on their plate. They'll never know it's intricacies, it's dark and twisty path from lame leftover limbo to deliriously delicious dinner.

In some families, that's considered success.

Beefing Up

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Why is it that for most people, chicken is a comfort food but beef isn’t? This doesn’t ring true to me. Perhaps because I grew up in Texas and learned early on the miraculous ease and flexibility of cooking with ground beef. Beef: it’s what was usually for dinner.

Is it because a chicken is less intimidating than a cow? If that’s the theory, then the theorist clearly has never been chased by a crazed chicken attempting to peck his hand off to get to the bucket of corn. He also has probably not spent hours watching the long-unmoving ruminant bodies sway across a swath of land, or peered into those warm, lucid brown eyes while rubbing the stiff but soft bovine ears.

I’d take a cow over a chicken any day.

(And don’t even get me started on goats. Fortunately, goats have never been considered comfort food for anyone outside of Ethiopia so it’s really a non-issue.)

Is it because chicken is often less expensive than beef? Because if that’s the reason I better reevaluate my comfort foods list. Right after mac’n’cheese I have caviar and truffles.

Is it because in days of yore, all the warm, cozy, peaceful wholesome places had chickens running around in the backyard? Because I’m not sure that’s even true.

In any event, I need not worry. We now have enough beef to produce many, many moons worth of comfort food.

The obvious practical question here is, why? In response, I have several answers, and I’m sure that other people (C included) could provide several more. Hear me out:

1. It is better for us.
2. It is better for the cows.
3. It is better for the environment.
4. It was on sale.

With regard to reasons 1-3, I’m a little uncomfortable sounding so granola. I don’t normally buy organic and we’re (clearly) no vegetarians. I don’t drive a hybrid and we occasionally eat instant ramen noodles for dinner. That said, as a gardener, a pet owner and a mother, I can’t avoid the obvious connection between wholesome foods and wholesome beings. As a Christian, I can’t avoid the stewarship responsibility we have to take care of the earth.

I’ve been reading recently about the realities of corn-fed beef and it is pretty sickening, both from an animal-welfare perspective and a human-health perspective. When an animal is made to only (only!) digest grass, (that’s why they have those extra stomachs after all), it seems to me they should be fed … GRASS. Feeding cows corn makes them sick and miserable, and requires them to be pumped full of antibiotics. In turn, we as the consumers are then forced to feed our families sick, miserable and drugged up meat. In this context, maybe beef isn’t such a comfort food after all (although I doubt chickens are much better).

Economics (mostly tax-subsidy policy) has made it so that corn-fed beef is pretty much the only thing normal people can afford on any kind of regular basis.

Which brings me to reason #4: There was a sale!

As a result of all the rain we had this year, the grass grew like crazy, which in turn made the cows grow like crazy and many of them came to weight before they were expected. I worked out that with the price they were offering, it was actually cheaper for me to purchase a half steer from this free-range, grass-fed farm than it would be to buy store bought beef through the winter.

I gave my pitch to my trusty companion C, who immediately agreed to split a half steer with me.

So, as of last Tuesday, I have about 200lbs of happy beef that was raised practically next door!

I even got the offal. What is offal (other than awful)? At our un-adventurous table, it’s going to be the choicest doggy treat on the market.

Puppy Love

Okay, okay. I know last time I blogged, I mentioned that this post would be about the massive amount of beef I currently have residing in my garage deep freeze. Don't worry, that meat is not going anywhere fast.

In the meantime, meet Ulrich, the newest member of our menagerie. He's fuzzy and fat, sweet and lazy, and just so darn adorable that every time he pees on the floor we end up forgiving him.






Ulrich came from a local shelter, where his mother was saved from a high kill pound. His father didn't make it -- he was euthanized for barking after just one night. The next day, Ulrich and his siblings were born. Our local shelter stepped in right in the nick of time: Ulrich's mother was slated to be killed because of "dog-aggression", which would have been the last of the little puppies as well.

"Dog-aggression" apparently means that one dog is aggressive toward another dog, which, quite frankly makes total sense in the context of having recently given birth to 6 puppies. So the rescuers rescued and the little canine family flourished.

Eight weeks later, and here he is!

Stockin' Up

It's fall. Did you know that? Well, it is.

Which means that it's time for harvesting, hoarding and preserving.

Side Note: I wanted a synonym for the word "preserving" that started with the letter "h" but all I could find was "husband", as in "animal husbandry." I'm just not convinced that's an actual synonym for preserve. I mean really? Are farmers in the business of animal preservation? That makes it sound more like a park ranger type situation. Too bad park rangers aren't referred to as park husbands. Talk about commitment to the job.

...get it? Commitment? 'Til death do us "park"?...anyone?... *taptaptap*...is this thing on?

Anyway, I have tackled this domestic duty head on: the first step is to make tons of chicken stock while the vegetables are still in season and therefore cheap and environmentally friendlier.

C and I have discovered the most amazing recipe for the most delicious stock. After you taste it (or just smell it cooking!) you won't ever buy canned or boxed stock again, and you won't even want to look at chicken bouillon. It will give you chills. It will also cure chills, as any good chicken broth can. It will warm your home, make your husband love you even more than he already does, make your children behave and your flowers will deadhead themselves. No, seriously.

Don'tcha wanna at least try it?!

The first step is to assemble all the ingredients.



Now, I realize that I instructed you to assemble *all* the ingredients, and the photograph does not include *all* of the ingredients. But I trust you can use your imagination. I'm new to the whole taking-adequate-pictures part of my life, having grown up surrounded by photographers, so you're just gonna have to take what you get.


Here's what you actually in-real-life-not-photographed-above need:

• 1 really ginourmus pot
• 3 roasting hens
• 3 large yellow onions, unpeeled and quartered
• 6 carrots, unpeeled and halved
• 4 stalks celery with leaves, cut into thirds
• 4 parsnips, unpeeled and cut in half, optional
• 20 sprigs fresh parsley
• 15 sprigs fresh thyme
• 20 sprigs fresh dill
• 1 head garlic, unpeeled and cut in 1/2 crosswise
• 2 tablespoons kosher salt
• 2 teaspoons whole black peppercorns

Variations: Sometimes, other parts of chicken are on sale for real cheap. I have made this recipe with one hen and about twenty chicken thighs, or a ton of wings or whatever. I've even made it with one split chicken, some drumsticks and a picked-apart chicken carcass. Also, with regard to the herbs, I think buying fresh herbs at the store is kinda overpriced. I grow a lot of herbs at home, but sometimes I come up short (plus I don't grow dill). Just supplement dried herbs as you see fit. Generally, when substituting dried herbs for fresh, I reduce the amount by about half, more if the dried herbs are ground. Also, I've left out the celery before with no disasters resulting and for various unexplainable reasons I have a superfluity of whole white peppercorns so I use those instead of black, I just throw in a few extra.

In other words, work it as you will, this thing is pretty hard to kill.

Now,

1. Put it all in the pot.
   
   
2. Looks nice, doesn't it?
   
   
3. Turn up the heat real high until it boils. This may take a while, since there is so much crammed in there.
   
   
4. Once it boils, reduce the heat so that it pipes down a little and let it simmer for four hours.
   
   
5. Cool it until it's about room temperature. (Or you can be like me and procrastinate by sticking it in the refrigerator for a day before buckling down and pulling it out again to strain the broth and debone the chickens.)
   
   
6. Strain all the vegetables out and debone the chicken.

Now you have a choice:

• you can either dump all the deboned chicken back in the broth and make yourself some "sippin' once, sippin' twice, sippin' Chicken Soup with Rice"
  
• OR you can make something else out of it (like chicken salad, tacos, enchiladas, stir fry, casserole, etc)
  
• OR you can divide it up and freeze it a pound at a time for later use.

The broth is very freezable too. I usually freeze it in two different sizes of container: one set that holds only about two cups and one that holds more like 6. That is what I find most flexible, and therefore useful, for later recipes which require thawing.

Next fall food discussion topic:

Q:Why On Earth Did I Buy All This Beef?
A: Because That Half-Steer Needed Me.