Julia, Julie, and Lemons

I finally saw "Julie and Julia" (thanks to my fabulous new Apple TV that I got to go with the fabulous new HDTV), and I am, once again, madly in love with Meryl Streep. Jesus christ on a pogo stick, that woman can act. The "Julie" part of the movie was kinda eh, IMHO. Amy Adams was fine, it's not a criticism of her; it's just that Meryl is so good, and Julia was so wonderful, there isn't enough room for the Julie part. Seriously, I would much rather have had an additional hour of Julia. And Stanley Tucci, for that matter, who was also wonderful.

I'd read the Amanda Hesser article about Julie years ago, and then looked for the blog, and then started at the beginning and read the whole damn thing (meaning I don't have a lot of interest in buying the actual book), and was sufficiently entertained by it. It was an interesting exercise, and, given my love of food and cooking, I am always happy to see someone actually interested in cooking. But, no, it was just way less interesting than the Julia part, and it would have been fun to see more of that part.

Meanwhile, back at Iron Chef: My Place, a bunch of stuff got made, and some of it was pretty good. I made the lemon ginger biscotti for the third time, again adding cranberries and this time adding pistachios instead of almonds, and they're getting better with each attempt. The lemon flavor and scent is really delightful. Not enough ginger this time, though--I couldn't taste it at all. I also attempted some chocolate hazelnut biscotti, and those were a major failure. For one thing, I must not have put in enough flour or something, because they simply didn't hold together: I have big chunks of chocolatey goodness, surrounding hazelnuts, but nothing that maintains its shape or integrity. For another, I really need to chop the hazelnuts; they probably contributed to the problems. However, the chunks taste just fine--very chocolatey. You can only get the barest hint of the barley sugar in them; it was another in my attempts to achieve a malted-milk-ball thing, so there's barley sugar, barley flour, and malted milk powder in them, but it's not all that noticeable, I don't think. I think next time I'm going to grind some hazelnuts into paste, and chop some, too. And add more flour.

For dinner, my task was to use some lemon (because while at the store on Saturday I purchased more Meyer lemons, even though I still had some here) and the kale that was about to become a science project. So I got out the big wok-shaped pan, put some water to boil in another pan (eventually there would be spaghetti in the boiling water), and got started. First, I took a lemon--sliced coarsely, so I could remove the seeds, but otherwise the whole thing--and a few cloves of garlic, and maybe some ginger (I don't remember) and put it in the bowl of my stick blender (I killed my mini-prep awhile ago) and whirred it around. I let it sit for awhile, remembering from Cooks that lemon will mellow out the garlic if I let it sit for a few minutes. I chopped up the practically-still-frozen chicken breasts and threw them into the pan with some butter and olive oil. Sauteed them awhile while I chopped an onion. When the chicken was nearly done, I threw the lemon garlic mixture in. Let it all cook a bit, then took all of that out of the pan. Added a bit more oil and threw in the onion, cooked that down, added the chopped kale (by now the spaghetti is cooking merrily on another burner). Eventually I added a splash of white wine to deglaze the pan.

To finish, after everything was cooked, I dumped the chicken/lemon mixture back in with the kale and onion mixture, added a couple of tablespoons of heavy cream, drained the cooked pasta, threw that in the pan to mix it all around, and served it with some grated cheese. It so totally didn't suck, and it had the advantage of using at least three things that needed using (the chicken, the kale, and a lemon), so yay for that.

Anyway. Lots of meetings this week, too, plus a hockey game tomorrow night and Chuck and CK on Friday, so it's time for sleep.

Random

I only seem capable of food blogging these days . . . let's try something else.

Partly it's because all of the stuff at work goes on, but I've become more wary about going into detail on the 'tubes (not that I've ever had any inkling that any coworker even knows I have a blog, much less has stumbled across it, number one, and, number two, the people about whom I would be most dismayed stumbling across this thing don't have enough internet savvy to find it--most probably don't know what a blog is, much less how to find mine; but you never know). Some things are going quite well--the new middle lord (my direct supervisor) has turned out to be quite good; I like hir personally and professionally, and zie seems intent on finding ways to use my talents to their fullest rather than just letting me continue to do three or four jobs in obscurity. Which, hey, all good. But it's too soon to even try to talk about it here; it remains to be seen what can or will be done.

So I go to work, submit the next thing, come home and provide a lap for the cat (Friend's cat is living with me for a little while, as I think I mentioned), work out, watch the hockey game if there is one, watch Top Chef on Wednesday night, maybe go out for dinner with Friend one night, maybe do some cooking or baking if I'm inspired.

My tile-making class started this past week, and I'm already feeling weird about it. Part of it is that I know that what I need to do is to sit down and do some drawings, start doing something, anything, really, but, instead, I dink around. The one tile I made last year actually came out reasonably well for a first effort, and I'm looking forward to making it even better, but that was a goddamned expensive tile. And now I'm in a class where I'm surrounded by people who are Genuine Artists--or it feels that way to me--and I'm just a schlub with no ideas about what I want to create. And I know that that approach violates the Top Chef Rule--cook your own food and don't worry about what other people are cooking--but my brain keeps going there anyway.

Well, there's only been one class, so maybe I'll get my head out of my own head and actually do the drawings I need to do, and create some fun playful stuff just to amuse myself, and take a couple of afternoons off of work and spend some time in the studios (which doesn't cost anything extra if you're taking a class). I also know that I do my best work when I have the opportunity to just fuck around, play, see what evolves, and I didn't have much of that last spring. I have a ton of vacation time--nearly three weeks, plus five personal days--so we'll see. And did I mention that I want to just have fun with it, fer chrissakes?

This week's other task is to find out what the weird patch on my leg is. I called my dermatologist today and got an appointment for Thursday. I'm perfectly willing to pay my co-pay only to be told that it's just a patch of, I don't know, eczema or something, but it doesn't look like anything I've ever had on my skin before, and it's in a location that isn't a good candidate for plain old dry skin, and I moisturize after my showers, and I've been treating it for 10 days or so with no results, so I figure it won't hurt to have an expert take a look at it. It's probably something stupid and routine--and that would be absolutely fine with me.

As for cultural commentary: Lately I've been reading Eliot Pattison's Inspector Shan series, and absolutely loving it. I've worked my way through the first four, I think, and I alternate with other stuff, of course, but it's way fun. The other thing I've discovered--and, yes, I realize I'm late to this party--is "Big Bang Theory." I've been getting it on Netflix and watching it while I row, and it makes me laugh out loud. I just finished season two (I alternate with the BBC's Inspector Morse series), so I have a few more disks to go. But it cracks me up, and I've always had a crush on both Johnny Galecki and Sarah Gilbert, so it's even more fun. I got a new TV, too--a big-ass sucker--but I'm using the old TV in the back bedroom with the rowing machine, i.e., I only get to watch the little TV while I row, but I have the rowing machine out of my living room. No furniture yet, but the furniture maker was here the week before last, and as soon as I figure out what I'm getting back on my taxes I'm going to order some stuff.

Okay, that's the best I can do without involving food.

Chili with a Chance of Potatoes

As we all know, I lurve me some Top Chef--particularly this season, which has a lot of people who can cook, plus, because they've all done it before (it's an "all-star" season, where all of them were eliminated in their own season but, in most cases, got pretty far, possibly even to the finals, before that), they all know what to expect. We're not seeing as much of the over-the-top stuff as with the Voltaggios and Kevin, but otherwise, there's some talent present.

However.

I've also realized that, in general, other than Top Chef and its spinoffs, I don't like the cooking shows that are competitions. I can tolerate Iron Chef, up to a point, because the chefs are pretty uniformly good. But two of the others--Chopped, and, especially, Worst Cook in America--bug me. Chopped just isn't as interesting as any of the others; rather than eliminate someone for each round, I'd rather see them each do all three rounds and see what the overall scores are. If they knew their scores for each round as they went along, then they'd each know how well they needed to do to win, which would keep it kind of interesting. But the one that bugs me the most (of the ones I've seen--I don't even bother with the cake shows, because they're all a version of fondant plus sculpture, which may be entertaining to watch but sucks to eat) is the Worst Cook show.

Of all the shows of that genre, that's the one that absolutely should not be eliminating someone each week. I do like the idea of having a bunch of terrible cooks, in teams, trying to learn how to cook, but you never really know when someone is going to start to get it. In addition, the whole point of learning to cook, IMHO, is that you have to be able to make a mistake and understand how and why you made it; simply following someone else's directions without truly understanding what you're doing isn't going to provide you with actual cooking skills. So, if I were in charge, I'd keep them all around for at least half of the season, then do a test of some kind and maybe then eliminate some percentage of them--a third, say. Lather, rinse, repeat, then the last third has some more training, and for the final competition, they're each given a selection of ingredients--with some choices they have to make--and they compete that way. THAT would be learning to cook, or a reasonable enough approximation of it, and it even still keeps it a competition of some kind.

But since when has anyone asked my opinion on these things?

I've been working on the biscotti recipe, and it's pretty good. The Meyer lemons really are fun to work with; they have a distinct perfume, and the flavor is very nice. I made a second round this week, using more all-purpose and less whole wheat flour, and adding cranberries and almonds. (I'd intended to use pistachios, because I was sure I had some around, but I couldn't find them yesterday--and then I stumbled across them this morning; too late.) The texture is crumbly but not hard--I think because I've put a bit of butter in them--but that means they can be eaten without dunking them in something, which I actually prefer. The next iteration will have cranberries and pistachios, and I want to do a chocolate hazelnut something, too.

Meanwhile, friend and I tried the chili recipe from Cooks Illustrated, and it was pretty good. We made it with ground venison rather than blade steak; next time I'd probably throw in some wild turkey, too, for different texture. We made a few other chances--black beans rather than pintos; more beans and more tomatos than the recipe called for; added veggies in the form of carrots, celery, and frozen corn--but the basic spicing was the same, and it was pretty tasty. Basically, you toast cut-up anchos, and then puree the anchos and some arbols--all w/ stems and seeds removed--with some chicken broth and . . . something. The spices, I guess, which were cumin, oregano, and cocoa. There's a little molasses in theire, too, as well as an onion and some jalpenos, and garlic. It definitely had a bite to it, but it wasn't overwhelming, and the fact that you puree the chilis means that you don't get a mouthful of one.

We ate it over these potato pancakes I'd made--I grated the last of the farm share potatos, mixed them with salt, pepper, two eggs, and some frozen spinach, and I formed them into patties and baked them on silpats until they were brown and crispy. It was nice to get potato pancakes without all of the grease. They still needed a little somethin-somethin, but the chili ended up being a perfect foil for them. Meanwile, I still have some kale and a head of cabbage to use, so that's the next task; probably not next weekend, though. The current plan has us dashing to Madison for a hockey game on Saturday, then dashing back here on Sunday to attend a hockey game at 11:30 am and then dashing somewhere to watch the Big Football Game between his team and the Bears. It's still not clear whether we're both going to do all of those things, but it's probably safe to say that cooking isn't on that particular agenda.

Anyway. my two remaining tasks today are working out and going out to dinner, and I had better start in on the first one if I'm going to do it before the latter.

Bunches of Lunches

I'm not going to comment on this weekend's events except to say that the right's true colors are shining through. That is, if Sarah Palin really believed all that eliminationist rhetoric she spouts, if the gun nuts really believed all the threatening crap they shout, if the far right really does believe that their rights have been trampled such that armed insurrection is required, well, then, don't you think they should be applauding instead of running away from it all? Oh, wait, it's just posturing, you say? When I was a kid and made a disgruntled or otherwise unpleasant face, my mother would warn me that it was going to freeze like that--and, on some level, she's right. The postures we adopt are not merely posturing; at some level, they're what we really believe. If you do not, in fact, believe that legislators, judges, and innocent bystanders should be shot point blank in the street because they support health care reform and you oppose it, then don't wave signs and put up maps and posts that recommend that. Personally, much as I oppose the right, I do not support gunning them down or threatening to do so.

This weekend's project was twofold--use up some stuff sitting around, and make a bunch of lunches; as you can imagine, these projects dovetailed nicely, though I did have to go to Whole Paycheck and get even more produce. And, I warn you, all three are very similar: a bunch of vegetables, with some spices, thrown into my big wok and cooked. This one has curried cauliflower, sweet potatos, and some peas, along with the usual spices and onions and garlic. (Spices were cinnamon, cumin, coriander, and garam masala, I think.)This one has butternut squash, white potatos (both from the CSA), garbanzos, tomatos, onions, garlic, and, at the last minute, I threw in the swiss chard I'd bought. I think I used the cumin and coriander, cardomom, tamarind paste, and fire-roasted tomatos.
This one has the rest of the sweet potatos, black beans (some frozen and getting frostbit, and one lonely can in the cupboard from January 2007), a can of tomatos, frozen corn, and onions and garlic. I also had a bag of greens from the CSA, which I'd thought was spinach but discovered also included some kale (I think), so I cut it all up and threw it in. It ended up being a lot of greens, but that's fine. I also made a pot of rice, and I portioned everything out into containers or freezer baggies, so I'm good to go; that's nearly 30 lunches, plus last night's dinner. Seriously, I think I could eat for a couple of months from what I have on hand.

I also bought a head of cabbage and some curly kale yesterday, and I have some potatos to use up (including some that have seen better days but I'll probably use anyway), so I think some soup might be the way to go. I also have two more squashes--an acorn and a butternut--from the CSA, but they'll keep for awhile, and half a bag of carrots.

Yesterday's impulse purchase was a bunch of Meyer lemons. I have heard about them but had never seen them in person before, so I bought a bunch. Of course, all of the recipes I can find have a ton of butter in them, which wasn't what I had in mind exactly. Brazen Tart made some suggestions (*waves to Tart*) and I think I'll probably use them for at least two adventures. Because did I mention I bought a bunch? Like 8 or 10 maybe? So there are enough, I think. Anyway, Tart had given me a recipe that calls for macerating the finely sliced lemons overnight, but every time I've made that recipe the results have been bitter more than sour. Once I even peeled the peel, then got rid of the pith (which is often where the bitterness resides), and used it that way, but that started being more trouble and I don't remember it being that much better. But maybe Meyer lemons will work better, and I otherwise really quite like the tart, so we'll see.

The other thing I"m going to try is some biscotti. KAF's Whole Grain book has a maple-something recipe, and a lemon-anise recipe, and there's a Moosewood recipe floating around somewhere in the sunroom, so I'll have to cobble it together, but I'm thinking lemons, maple syrup (or possibly honey), and probably pecans rather than walnuts. I'll let you know what happens.

Happy New Year!

The trick to meeting one's goals is to keep them modest, so I've been doing that; after the frantic hustle of the past four months, sitting on my butt--occasionally with a cat in my lap--seems like a fine idea. I also decided that starting the year with a dirty or cluttered home was probably a bad idea, though, so I've been picking away at the cleaning tasks, and I'm nearly done with everything except the laundry, which I'll do tomorrow or Monday.

Some bread will get baked, as well, seeing as how the yeast does most of the work--actually, there's going to be a sourdough wheat, and pretzels, and some lemon-barley scones, to which I'll add some grains and dried apricots or pears; the first two things require preferments, so I'll give the yeast something to do today and really do the baking tomorrow.

Speaking of baking, I got the King Arthur Whole Grain Baking book, and it's like a drug; partly as a result of that purchase, I've also purchased wads of stuff from King Arthur by mail order--barley flour, high-fiber flour, etc.--which is quite convenient. It's no cheaper than the grocery store, but I can get free shipping, so I can get 35 pounds of stuff without having to haul it on the bus or the el.

Which reminds me: I made some baked goods for some of the people at work (mini tarts with chocolate ganache and caramelized almonds--was supposed to be hazelnuts, but it turned out I didn't have any). One person asked if I'd made the tart shells--of course I had; why would I purchase them? And then I said that I had at least a half a dozen types of flour in my kitchen. This prompted cries of disbelief, so someone challenged me to list them, so I did: all-purpose; bread; whole wheat; barley; high-fiber; almond; hazelnut; cake; whole wheat pastry. Turns out I forgot one (I have some gluten-free flour I don't use much), too. To which one person replied, "I thought there was only bleached and unbleached." I didn't tell her that there is no good use for bleached flour.

I know I went to pastry school and all, but I continue to be shocked by how little people seem to know about cooking and baking. So, lately, I've been trying to spread the knowledge as best I can. At Friend's sister's house, I did most of the cooking and some baking for four or five days, which served multiple purposes. For one thing, I was able to incorporate more vegetables into the mix than is common in a land where the only vegetables in sight may be on the relish tray and may consist of a few kinds of pickles. It also kept Friend's mother out of the kitchen; she's not the most organized person in the world, and feeding a lot of people tends to make her even more anxious and fussy. For another thing--and the most important thing--it was something I could contribute to the mix, thereby allowing Friend's sister to hang out with her sons and daughters-in-law and not have to worry about feeding people. It's relatively easy for me to do these things, especially when it's pretty casual, and it feels like a gift, both a gift I can give and a gift I can receive, in the form of being useful, and using my skills to benefit the people around me. Because, yes, doing something useful is a gift to me, too.

There were 14 people for two of the dinners--in addition to Friend's sister and her kids and their wives, there was also Friend's brother, his wife and two kids, and Friend's mom and her friend. I made some baked goods, too--wheat rolls, my grandmother's sticky buns (some with nuts and some without, because we had some allergies), more mini tarts, this time with hazelnuts, and a fruit cobbler with an oat topping that was served warm over vanilla ice cream.

The first night was some venison with caramelized onions, some mushrooms, a little wine to deglaze the pan, mashed potatos, and broccoli and cauliflower in a cheese sauce. The leftover veggies got pureed and turned into soup for lunch the next day. The next night I used up some butternut squash from my farm share that had some bruises, some spinach, some wild turkey, the leftover bacon from breakfast, and some onions; that went over buckwheat. The buckwheat was only so-so, but there were leftovers of the squash mix, so I baked the other squash, mixed it all together, and made some homemade whole wheat ravioli in a rough tomato sauce, with more wild turkey available for those who wanted some meat with their sauce, and someone made a salad. A turkey that Friend's mom had purchased became dinner the next night; there was fruit salad and some other stuff to go with that. Mostly I tried to use up things that were hanging around; the basket of fruit and the honey butter that Sis wanted to get rid of because her not-yet-ex-husband had purchased it in one of his sprees but it wasn't being used both went into the cobbler. Other people contributed various bits as well--the salad and the fruit salad were assembled by others. The last morning I made a fruit compote and sweetened ricotta cheese (maple syrup and some half and half) and made crepes for whoever was around; I also wrote down my recipe and taught Friend's sister how to make them.

All in all, it accomplished multiple goals--feeding people, including people who are allergic to nuts and people who don't eat much meat; allowing the family members present to contribute as they wished, without requiring that they do so; keeping anxious people out of the kitchen; using up food that might otherwise have gone to waste; creating leftovers that people could eat for subsequent lunches; and also providing some . . . education, I guess. I certainly didn't do it as an educational exercise, but I've found that showing, and telling as I show, makes the whole process seem more accessible, even as I point out that it's easier for me because I lived alone for so long, i.e., I've had a whole lot of time to practice, without having to please other people with my experiments. People who are feeding picky kids--or just feeding multiple kids on a short budget and a short schedule--don't have that freedom/privilege.

But this weekend I'm just hanging out. My goals are to do the cleaning (which is nearly done), do some baking to fill the freezer, get in some workouts, and do a whole lot of nothing, including a bunch in front of the television. Friend's cat is staying with me while he's off at the Rose Bowl, and she wanders out to chat or to find a lap every once in awhile. The only other thing I need to do today is make sure I eat some pork: my grandmother always insisted it was necessary for luck in the new year. I don't have anything pork-like except some pancetta, so I guess that will have to do.

So, happy new year to all of you; I hope you're enjoying whatever it is you're doing.