So... lazy...

My stars, has it really been over a month? So much has changed since Tuesday, May 11, 2010 at 9:42 a.m. I didn't realize it then, but that was the greatest time of my life (or not. Please, make it 'not.')

I must say that not too much cookin' has gone down in the intervening days. I was out of town almost every weekend in May and the first weekend in June, leaving me gasping for normalcy during the weeks. Apart from that, I seem to have fallen into a weekday austerity/weekend gluttony cycle that is best served by soups, sandwiches and salads (austere) and pizzas, Thai food and wings (gluttonous), which are, respectively, prepared with little fanfare or ordered out.

The things I did make, I photographed. Herewith, a collection of some things that I have made and consumed as of late:

Roasted vegetable sandwiches with mozzarella and balsamic dressing

"Mmmmm. Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmmm... mmmm!" - Bob Wiley

The first time I made these I stupidly wasted time trying to 'grill' the vegetables on a indoor electric grill that probably couldn't melt a drinking straw. This time I fired up the old brain cells and decided to use the broiler. First, the red and yellow peppers get the de-skinning treatment: broil until skin is a good deal charred. Place peppers in tightly sealed zip-top bag for 15 minutes; the condensation will help the skin loosen and after that you should be able to peel it off easily. Lesson learned: err on the 'more broiling' side for the best chance of easy skin removal.

Had to re-broil these, sheesh.

You could use any sort of watery veg you want for this; I used red and yellow bell peppers, green zucchini and baby eggplant. Cut the zucchini and eggplant lengthwise, in slices about 1/2 inch thick. Lay them out on your broiler pan and give them 3-4 minutes a side, checking after the first go-around to make sure they're cooked to your liking. I like them quite limp. The sweet, watery taste of broiled zucchini is something special.

To assemble, I splashed a bit of balsamic vinegar on lightly toasted polish rye; layered a mix of vegetables and a couple of slices of fresh mozzarella on top. I microwaved this for about 30-45 seconds to melt the cheese. If you're fancier than me (I suspect most people aren't), you could stick it in a low oven for about 10 minutes, or even better, a toaster oven on 'melt this delicious cheese' setting!

I think I also threw some baby spinach on there for crunch. Arugula or any other flavorful green would work great.

In less successful attempts, I found myself with a surplus of grape tomatoes that were about to turn. Various people on Chowhound recommended making 'oven-dried tomatoes' - cut the GTs in half lengthwise, spread evenly on a cookie sheet, and cook in a low oven (200F) for at least two hours, until the tomatoes are wrinkly, but not burned.

I might have had the oven up too high, or just forgot about them (how could that have happened? The smell of slow-roasting tomatoes [and garlic, of which I also threw some in to roast - seize the opportunity to make roasted garlic, I say] filled the house and it was absolutely seductive) but about half the tomatoes turned out dry and brown. The ones that didn't were very, very tasty and I would recommend this to anyone who likes sun-dried tomatoes, has too many tomatoes, or enjoys intoxicating food smells.

Finally, my friends, I made a lasagna this past weekend. My go-to is my mom's pesto lasagna, but this was being made based on a special request - that request specifying MEAT lasagna - and so I took to the Internet in search of a meaty recipe. I settled on this Turkey Sausage-Spinach Lasagna with Spicy Tomato Sauce from Bon Appétit. It was quite good, though time-intensive, as it calls for making the sauce from scratch (a 90-minute process). I used regular beef/pork Italian sausage. The meat itself turned out dry, which was surprising as there was enough liquid in this lasagna to quench a powerful thirst - in fact, you don't even need to pre-boil the noodles - there's so much liquid they cook inside the lasagna! Maybe they hogged the tomato liquid and absorbed the sausage liquid as well - parasitic noodles. Ah well. Lasagna, like pizza, is never truly bad, only less good.


Is there a more glorious sight in this world than the browned edge of a lasagna?

Rainy Day Remedy

When your day looks off to a bad start, Poached Eggs on an English Muffin may provide a temporary boost. Ask your doctor about Poached Eggs on an English Muffin. Side effects may include brown tomatoes, spinach, and seeing how big of a bite you can take at once.

Seriously, these brown tomatoes are the business. Definitely the most flavorful you can find this time of year. This time of year being the time in early May when it's 45 degrees and raining.

Food on the Page

Of all the things I loved about the Carson McCullers biography The Lonely Hunter, one passage made me giggle, retch and realize that her whims and oddities inhabited the kitchen as much as they did her notoriously well-appointed bedrooms:

… to cap the night’s activities, a pregnant cat had slipped unbidden into the house and given birth to a half-dozen kittens downstairs. Undisturbed by the clutter in the house which greeted her, Carson volunteered that she would be very comfortable sharing the bed with the litter of kittens…

Ah, wait, this isn’t the place for my cat and clutter fancy. That actually comes right before the relevant part, which is this:

Carson suggested that they go out immediately and rent bicycles so that they might ride to the beach and stores. Soon they were cycling about the island shopping for food, liquor and flowers. Carson also bought flowered paper curtains for the windows, and red-and-white checkered oilcloth and candles for the table. “We’re going to eat fancy,” she said. If Carson had ever played the role of kitchen prima donna in the past, it was abandoned that night and for the duration of her stay. She cooked more during her month at Nantucket than she had cooked since the early days of her marriage. Among her culinary skills that summer were homemade mayonnaise, which she admitted was really her mother’s speciality, clam chowder, canned green pea soup enlivened with small chunks of wieners, and a unique dish which she labeled “spuds Carson,” made with creamed potatoes, ripe olives, minced onions and grated cheese.

Uff da! To be fair, if I were imbibing a few tumblers of whiskey per day, I might come up with something similarly misguided. In fact, I don’t need whiskey to get lost in the kitchen.

Another delightful bio of sorts, Patti Smith’s Just Kids, described a tasty little breakfast:

I rolled out of bed and noticed it was late. I raced through my morning ritual, going around the corner to the Moroccan bakery, grabbing a crusty roll, a sprig of fresh mint, and some anchovies. I came back and boiled water, stuffing the pot with mint. I poured olive oil in the open roll, rinsed the anchovies, and laid them inside, sprinkling in some cayenne pepper. I poured a glass of tea and thought better of wearing my shirt, knowing that I’d get olive oil on the front of it.

Turning the time machine way back, this passage from Don Quixote got my mouth watering:

“…But all of this in due course; look and see if you have anything to eat in those saddlebags, and then we shall go in search of a castle where we can stay the night and prepare the balm I told you of, because I swear before God that my ear is hurting a good deal.”
“I have here an onion, and a little cheese, and I don’t know how many crusts of bread,” said Sancho, “but these are not victuals suitable for a knight as valiant as your grace.”

Assuming there was crusty bread and cheese widely available, I think I might have been able to pull through in 16th century Spain, even if I had all the looks and none of the strength of Dulcinea of Toboso. Even the raw onion sounds good.

Raspberry Custard Cake

Here's a mind-bogglingly easy recipe for a delicious and bountiful cake, care of one of my favorite food bloggers, Liz over at Gastronomy Domine. I made it as a last-minute contribution to a weeknight dinner party - the trick custard lent me some baking credibility that I desperately needed.

Here's what you need:

1 box Duncan Hines yellow cake mix
3-4 cups raspberries, slightly macerated or chopped
1 cup white sugar
1 pint heavy whipping cream

Here's what you do:

Preheat the oven to 350F.

Prepare the cake according to directions and pour into a greased and floured 9x13 dish (glass or metal will do fine.) Evenly distribute the raspberries over the top; they should stay put on the surface of the cake batter. Sprinkle the raspberries with sugar. Slowly pour over this one pint of whipping cream, making sure to cover the entire surface. Bake for one hour, testing for doneness after 50 minutes using a skewer inserted into the center.

Now, what happens is that the raspberries and cream sink to the bottom while the cake is cooking, creating a wonderfully moist, custard-like consistency. I'd been considering making a Tres Leches cake, but due to lack of time and experience I thought better of it (I had about two hours between getting home from work and having to leave for the party.) As you can see, the preparation for this cake takes about five minutes.

The original recipe calls for four cups of raspberries, but I only used three, which seemed sufficient (though an extra cup of raspberry goodness would not have gone unappreciated.) Also, instead of fresh, I used frozen raspberries that were pre-sweetened, so I omitted the sugar, and I don't think the cake suffered at all for it. It was quite a hit, and I told anyone who would listen how easy it was. Cue the blank stares...

For those who cringe at using a boxed cake mix: feel free to make your own yellow cake from scratch. Liz's recipe called for Duncan Hines specifically, after which she waxed rhapsodic about it and told of leaving room in her suitcase to bring a few boxes home from her trips to the US. Baking is my weakest culinary skill by far, so I didn't want to tempt the inedible cake gods by trying to whip up my own on a whim.

Who can argue with this?

Florida Food

In chronological order:

Turkey sandwich on Italian bread with mayo, tomato and red onion;
Wavy chips;
Dill potato salad;
Lazy salad with arugula, roasted sweet potatoes, rotisserie chicken, goat cheese and honey mustard vinaigrette (this was a big hit, and in retrospect is not for the strictly lazy);
Garlic bread;
2 poached eggs, potatoes, turkey sausage, English muffin;
Tenderloin fillets with Bearnaise sauce, roasted asparagus, garlic roasted potatoes;
Strawberry-Rhubarb crumble with vanilla ice cream;
English muffin with peanut butter, honey and blackberries;
White cheddar popcorn;
Chicken salad (mayo, green grapes, pecans and tarragon) sandwich on Publix 'White Mountain Bread' (extraordinarily soft and malleable) with tomato;
More wavy chips;
Pan-fried grouper with lemon and homemade tartar sauce, leftover roasted potatoes, steamed French beans;
Diet coke and M&Ms;
Leftover Strawberry-Rhubarb crumble;
English muffin with peanut butter, honey and blackberries;
Spring rolls with vermicelli, shrimp, mint and carrots;
Wonton soup (or in my case, Wanton - hey-ooo!);
Bún with grilled curry chicken, pork egg rolls, vermicelli, cucumber, carrots, lettuce, bean sprouts and fish sauce;

To be continued. Now, I must attend to my sangria.

The dull tyranny of pasta and salad

Ah, my first prolonged silence. Faced with distractions like buying way too many new clothes that I don't need, intermittent balmy weather, and my cats engaged in Olympian vomiting efforts, it seems that I have abandoned the ol' blog for a few weeks now. If only I could come back with tales of crackling, delectable meats and sublime roasted vegetables... alas. I've only been able to muster the energy for pasta and, tonight, a salad, those friends of the uninspired cook.

The pasta dish is one that I've made a few times over the past couple of months, and very tasty it is, too. Leftovers for a few days and can be eaten cold without guilt (a major plus for me.) Here's the idea:

1/2 box spaghetti, linguine, or other 'long' variety - you could easily use penne or something like that if you so wish. I've been using De Cecco brand perciatelli, which is like a thick piece of spaghetti with a hollow middle. Fun?
1 small container Fage yogurt (I like the 2%)
Any greens, vegetables or meat you might like to add. I've added different mixes of spinach, chicken, arugula and parmesan with success. This is another good 'what's in the fridge?' dish. I can't think of very many ingredients that would be unwelcome here.

Cook pasta according to your tastes. When done, reserve 1/2 cup of cooking water and drain the rest.

In a serving bowl, empty the yogurt and add the reserved pasta water. Whisk with a fork until well incorporated. Add the pasta and toss to coat. Add other ingredients, if any, and serve.

Sometimes I like to throw a big dollop (~2 T) of sun-dried tomato paste to the yogurt mixture. That's good eatin'!

Tonight's salad features baby arugula (some pieces of which are not so baby, ahem, EARTHBOUND FARMS), roasted sweet potato cubes, goat cheese and some leftover rotisserie chicken, the beloved standby of my culinary fallow periods. Having whipped up the arugula/goat cheese/sweet potato combo before, I'm wagering on success, unless the chicken goes and fucks everything up. So bland a bird wouldn't dare.

In other food-related news, Dinero Fudge is currently whooping Pizza Ashby in the Name Of The Year's Dragonwagon Regional! Unbelievable!

The salad didn't taste as blurry as it looked.

Hoppin' John

My mother, a dear lady of Southern extraction, is a masterful cook who can make something palatable just by stirring it. This is her recipe for Hoppin' John, a dish of black-eyed peas and pork. It's traditional in the South to eat black-eyed peas on New Year's Day if you want good luck for the rest of the year. I've never found this to hold true, but if you're a fan of rituals or the power of suggestion, by all means, indulge. This is good the other 364 days of the year, too!

You will need:

16 oz. black-eyed peas (I use frozen; if using dry, have beans soaked and picked over before starting this dish. Avoid canned.)
2 ham hocks, or 1 smoked pork butt
2 shallots or 1/2 small onion, chopped (optional)
bay leaf

In a medium stock pot, cover the ham hocks or smoked butt with water, drop in the bay leaf and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook 1-1 1/2 hours. The cooking time can be completely dependent on your schedule, mood and whims if you're using ham hocks - they are quite indestructible. If using smoked butt, cook until meat is tender and easy to pull apart.

Remove the meat from the water, and skim fat from the top with a large spoon.

mmm, hocks

Bring water back to a simmer and drop in the beans and chopped onion/shallots, if using. If you're using frozen beans, they should be done in about 30 minutes. If you're using soaked dry beans, finish cooking according to directions on package.

While the beans are cooking, chop up the meat. I had bad luck with the ham hocks this time around - couldn't get a scrap off them. It later came to be known, via mom the cook, that I was doing it wrong. Oh well! I sometimes prefer it without the actual meat, as ham is a smidge too salty for my liking. This dish is good with or without - having the beans cook in the pork broth gives it plenty of flavor.

When beans are done, reserve about 2 cups of the broth and drain the rest. Mix meat (or not) with the beans and reserved broth.

Serve over white rice, topped with chopped tomatoes and scallions, shredded cheddar cheese, and as much Louisiana hot sauce as you please. If you are a reasonable person, you might also want some jalapeno corn bread as an accompaniment (1 pkg. Jiffy + 1 large jalapeno, minced + 1/4 cup shredded cheddar.)