I have a confession to make: I am on a diet.
I know, diets don't work. It's something I say all the time. Lifestyle change is the way to go when trying to drop weight. Move more, eat less.
But here's the thing: I have developed insulin resistance, which is both complicating the regimen with which I manage my diabetes, and also, it's making it practically impossible for me to get pregnant. Both are equally frustrating.
My husband's commute is now a whopping 2 hours a day, greatly increasing the time he spends being inactive. And now he is putting on weight as well.
We needed big crashing change in our life, and we figure that we can modify that easier than from where we are. And so, we've pretty much cut our calorie intake in half. It's not really sustainable, but it's been a hell of a kickstart. I've lost 8 pounds in the past week; Dan, who doesn't weight himself but allowed me to put a piece of yarn around his waist to measure him, is down about an inch and a half of yarn and two loops on his belt buckle.
We're pleased, and encouraged by our progress. We know we won't always be having carrot sticks and water for lunch, but when we can eat like this, it's turning out to be really, really good for us.
So of course, what am I craving? Barbecue.
Mmmmm, barbecue. Dry-rubbed, grilled pulled pork slathered in gooey, sticky, spicy sauce, in a big pile on a plate next to a scoop of potato salad and a scoop of coleslaw. Cuban style pork shoulder marinated in lime and garlic, sliced and served with rice and black beans. Carolina-style chopped picnic roast, with thin, sharp vinegar sauce, topped with sweet slaw on a hamburger bun. Hawaiian Kalua pig, simple and flawless and smoky, with steamed white rice. My mouth is watering as I think about it. I may stop writing a minute so I can go eat a celery stick.
This is the wrong time of year for barbecue, of course, but that's never stopped me. I've made barbecue on my stovetop, in my crockpot, and in my oven all at various times of the year, and to be honest, I actually prefer to make barbecue somewhere other than on the grill, where I have to monitor the fire and add fuel every so often. The crock pot is my favorite.
I don't have a recipe that I follow, and barbecue is a spur-of-the-moment thing for me: I make barbecue when I happen to be in the grocery store and see a nice-looking piece of pork shoulder or roast that looks like it'll make good barbecue. I rub it with a copious amount of some combination of garlic, ancho chile powder, cayenne, crushed red pepper, cumin, dry mustard seed, coarse salt, black pepper, and cinnamon. Into the Dutch oven to brown stovetop, then into the slow-cooker with a mixture of low-sodium chicken stock and liquid smoke to make the house smell invitingly like barbecue for 8 or 10 hours. I pull out as much of the fat as I can because, while pork fat makes things taste good, it does not make the texture particularly enjoyable. Finally, I just mix in bottled barbecue sauce, usually KC Masterpiece, because it's not too sweet, sometimes spiced up with a couple of dashes of some kind of hot pepper sauce.
But that's a little vague for most people, and not really a recipe. So here's a real recipe for pork barbecue--one that you can make in your oven. It even includes a recipe for barbecue sauce, in case you are so inclined.
Also, I have to plead ignorance. I am not sure what the Boston butt is, where it comes from on a pig, or anything else. I use mostly pork shoulder, or, if I find a good-looking one, pork loin. Pork loin is what I typically use for kalua pig, which is not sauced and really a recipe for some other time. Go with pork shoulder in place of the Boston butt, I say.
Pulled Pork Barbecue
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 each medium yellow onions
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon cumin
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
12 ounces beer
3/4 cup ketchup
3/4 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup whole-grain mustard
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 each canned chipotle pepper in adobo sauce
1 5-pound bone-in Boston butt
Preheat oven to 300°F. Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-low heat. Add onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned and very soft, about 20 minutes.
Increase heat to high; add chili powder, cumin, paprika and cayenne and cook, stirring, until fragrant, 1 minute. Add beer, ketchup, vinegar, mustard, tomato paste, chipotle pepper and adobo sauce; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the sauce is slightly thickened, 10 minutes. Meanwhile, trim all visible fat from the pork.
Remove the pan from the heat and add the pork, spooning sauce over it. Cover the pan, transfer to the oven and bake for 1 1/2 hours. Turn the pork over, cover, and bake for 1 1/2 hours more. Uncover and bake until a fork inserted into the meat turns easily, 1 to 2 hours more.
Transfer the pork to a large bowl and cover with foil. Pour the sauce into a large measuring cup or glass bowl and refrigerate until the fat and sauce begin to separate, 15 minutes. Skim off the fat. Return the sauce to the pan and heat over medium-high until hot, about 4 minutes.
Remove the bone and any remaining pieces of fat from the meat. The bone should easily slip away from the tender meat. Pull the pork apart into long shreds using two forks. Add the hot sauce to the meat; stir to combine. Serve hot.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Meatless Main Dish Monday: Swiss Chard, Raisin, and Pine Nut Tart
Once upon a time, I was in journalism school, dating totally inappropriate men and doing drugs. (I'm kidding about the drugs, sort of. But that would explain the inappropriate men, so maybe not.) One night, my job was to go to a meeting and interview the newly elected president of the gay student alliance, which had some absurdly inclusive name like the gay-straight-bisexual-transgendered student alliance.
The newly elected president of the gay student alliance, whose name was (and still is) Kerry, turned out to be perfectly adorable, and we became friends. At one point, he set me up with his ex-roommate, who turned out to be a big old pot of refried crazy, which, given my already precarious mental health, threw me for what could kindly be described as a bit of a loop. Also, Kerry went to work for the post office part-time to help pay for school and he disappeared off the earth.
This was all more than ten years ago. This fall, Kerry sent me an email out of the blue, and as it turned out, we'd been living within about 15 minutes of each other without knowing it for several years. I was, in a word, beside myself. We haven't managed to hook up yet since we've found each other, although we trade off emails regularly.
Kerry's partner is the head concierge for a Whole Foods in D.C. Once a month, he does a cooking demonstration at the Dupont Circle Farm Market, and Kerry plays front man. I got an email on Friday saying that they'd be at the market this Sunday.
So off we went to the Farm Market, and there was Kerry with a pan full of Spanish tortilla and sauteed chard. "Oh my God!" he screamed across the crowd as soon as he saw me. "Are you Molly Chase, the famous food blogger?"
Is there a famous food blogger named Molly Chase? 'Cause it ain't me. But it's entirely okay, because I am once again thrilled to have found Kerry, and his friend can really cook. That tortilla was amazing, really delicious, healthy, and substantial without being overly heavy. I think this would have been a fabulous brunch dish. I didn't get to try the chard, but Dan is still talking about it and has asked me twice tonight if I can get a recipe for it. Also, Kerry has a friend who, inexplicably, was patient enough to have a grass fight with our 2 1/2 year-old son to keep him entertained, which people rarely are.
Am I retarded? I can't find this recipe anywhere on the internet. What I found, though, looks equally wonderful: a Swiss Chard, Raisin, and Pine Nut tart from Gourmet Magazine. The bonus: this is vegetarian, although it's not vegan, and it's a little savory, a little sweet, and absolutely gorgeous to look at.
I rarely make my own pastry dough--I am a cook, not a pastry chef, and only by interest, certainly not by training. This includes a recipe for pastry dough, which--what the hell? I may go ahead and give it a shot. I would make this for brunch, I think, because, as you know, I think brunch is awesome, with maybe a salad.
Kerry: it was great to see you today. Let's plan on doing it again as soon as possible. Teaism was great, too, by the way. Thanks for pointing us toward it.
In the meantime, here is this:
Pastry Dough for a Double Crust Pie
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1/4 cup cold vegetable shortening (preferably trans-fat-free)
1/2 teaspoon salt
7 to 9 tablespoons ice water
Special equipment: a pastry or bench scraper
Blend together flour, butter, shortening, and salt in a bowl with your fingertips or a pastry blender (or pulse in a food processor) just until mixture resembles coarse meal with some small (roughly pea-size) butter lumps. Drizzle 5 tablespoons ice water evenly over mixture. Gently stir with a fork (or pulse) until incorporated.
Squeeze a small handful of dough: If it doesn't hold together, add more ice water, 1/2 tablespoon at a time, stirring (or pulsing) until incorporated. Do not overwork dough, or pastry will be tough. Turn dough out onto a work surface. Divide dough into 8 portions. With heel of your hand, smear each portion once or twice in a forward motion to help distribute fat. Gather all dough together with pastry scraper.
Divide dough with one half slightly larger, then form each into a ball and flatten each into a 5-inch disk. If dough is sticky, dust lightly with additional flour. Wrap each disk in plastic wrap and chill until firm, at least 1 hour.
Dough can be chilled up to 2 days ahead.
Swiss Chard, Raisin, and Pine Nut Tart
The newly elected president of the gay student alliance, whose name was (and still is) Kerry, turned out to be perfectly adorable, and we became friends. At one point, he set me up with his ex-roommate, who turned out to be a big old pot of refried crazy, which, given my already precarious mental health, threw me for what could kindly be described as a bit of a loop. Also, Kerry went to work for the post office part-time to help pay for school and he disappeared off the earth.
This was all more than ten years ago. This fall, Kerry sent me an email out of the blue, and as it turned out, we'd been living within about 15 minutes of each other without knowing it for several years. I was, in a word, beside myself. We haven't managed to hook up yet since we've found each other, although we trade off emails regularly.
Kerry's partner is the head concierge for a Whole Foods in D.C. Once a month, he does a cooking demonstration at the Dupont Circle Farm Market, and Kerry plays front man. I got an email on Friday saying that they'd be at the market this Sunday.
So off we went to the Farm Market, and there was Kerry with a pan full of Spanish tortilla and sauteed chard. "Oh my God!" he screamed across the crowd as soon as he saw me. "Are you Molly Chase, the famous food blogger?"
Is there a famous food blogger named Molly Chase? 'Cause it ain't me. But it's entirely okay, because I am once again thrilled to have found Kerry, and his friend can really cook. That tortilla was amazing, really delicious, healthy, and substantial without being overly heavy. I think this would have been a fabulous brunch dish. I didn't get to try the chard, but Dan is still talking about it and has asked me twice tonight if I can get a recipe for it. Also, Kerry has a friend who, inexplicably, was patient enough to have a grass fight with our 2 1/2 year-old son to keep him entertained, which people rarely are.
Am I retarded? I can't find this recipe anywhere on the internet. What I found, though, looks equally wonderful: a Swiss Chard, Raisin, and Pine Nut tart from Gourmet Magazine. The bonus: this is vegetarian, although it's not vegan, and it's a little savory, a little sweet, and absolutely gorgeous to look at.
I rarely make my own pastry dough--I am a cook, not a pastry chef, and only by interest, certainly not by training. This includes a recipe for pastry dough, which--what the hell? I may go ahead and give it a shot. I would make this for brunch, I think, because, as you know, I think brunch is awesome, with maybe a salad.
Kerry: it was great to see you today. Let's plan on doing it again as soon as possible. Teaism was great, too, by the way. Thanks for pointing us toward it.
In the meantime, here is this:
Pastry Dough for a Double Crust Pie
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1/4 cup cold vegetable shortening (preferably trans-fat-free)
1/2 teaspoon salt
7 to 9 tablespoons ice water
Special equipment: a pastry or bench scraper
Blend together flour, butter, shortening, and salt in a bowl with your fingertips or a pastry blender (or pulse in a food processor) just until mixture resembles coarse meal with some small (roughly pea-size) butter lumps. Drizzle 5 tablespoons ice water evenly over mixture. Gently stir with a fork (or pulse) until incorporated.
Squeeze a small handful of dough: If it doesn't hold together, add more ice water, 1/2 tablespoon at a time, stirring (or pulsing) until incorporated. Do not overwork dough, or pastry will be tough. Turn dough out onto a work surface. Divide dough into 8 portions. With heel of your hand, smear each portion once or twice in a forward motion to help distribute fat. Gather all dough together with pastry scraper.
Divide dough with one half slightly larger, then form each into a ball and flatten each into a 5-inch disk. If dough is sticky, dust lightly with additional flour. Wrap each disk in plastic wrap and chill until firm, at least 1 hour.
Dough can be chilled up to 2 days ahead.
Swiss Chard, Raisin, and Pine Nut Tart
1/2 cup golden raisins
1 cup water
2 lb green Swiss chard, stems and center ribs discarded
1 large egg
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 1/2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon finely grated fresh orange zest
1/3 cup pine nuts (1 1/2 oz), toasted
2 teaspoons confectioners sugar
Special equipment: an 11- by 8- by 1-inch rectangular tart pan with a removable bottom
Bring raisins and water to a boil in a 1-quart heavy saucepan, then remove from heat and let stand, covered, 1 hour. Drain in a colander, then pat dry with paper towels. Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 400°F.
Blanch chard in a large pot of boiling salted water, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until tender but still bright green, about 5 minutes. Transfer chard with a slotted spoon to a large bowl of ice and cold water to stop cooking. Drain chard in a colander, then squeeze out excess water by handfuls. Coarsely chop chard.
Whisk together egg, cream, granulated sugar, zest, and a pinch of salt in a large bowl. Stir in pine nuts, raisins, and chard until combined.
Roll out larger piece of dough on a lightly floured surface with a lightly floured rolling pin into a 15- by 11-inch rectangle and fit into tart pan (do not trim edges). Chill shell while rolling out top.
Roll out smaller piece of dough on a lightly floured surface with lightly floured rolling pin into a 12- by 9-inch rectangle. Spread chard filling evenly into shell, then top with second rectangle of dough. Using a rolling pin, roll over edges of pan to seal tart and trim edges, discarding scraps. Cut 3 steam vents in top crust with a paring knife, then put tart in pan on a baking sheet. Bake until top is golden, about 1 hour. Transfer to a rack and cool 10 minutes, then remove side of pan. Cool to room temperature, about 1 hour. Dust with confectioners sugar.
Cooks' note: The tart filling can be made 1 day ahead and chilled, covered. Stir before using.
March 2: Casserole-Style Chiles Rellenos
I have collected a few very old-fashioned, very retro cookbooks, full of ingredients like unflavored Jello and cream of something soup. One is the Better Homes & Gardens Biggest Book of Casseroles. This cookbook is crammed full of things I wouldn't dream of making, unless someone discovered that either:
A. Sandra Lee and Rachel Ray are not, in fact, in some kind of job-share arrangement as the antichrist. (Unlikely.)
B. Preservatives have the effect of making people live longer. (Equally unlikely.)
However, there are a few adjustments that I make when something calls for a can of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup: a handful of mushrooms, chopped, a few tablespoons of minced onion and a clove garlic, crushed, all browned together in two tablespoons of butter with a pinch of salt and a little pepper. Two tablespoons of flour mixed in, and a cup of reduced-fat or whole milk and a half-cup of chicken or vegetable broth stirred in until it all comes together. Simmer until thickened. Cream of Mushroom soup, just like that.
This particular recipe doesn't call for a can of soup. It has poblano peppers in it, which I think are vastly improved by roasting and peeling, not blanching, and I've adjusted the recipe to reflect that. Also, feel free to replace the "purchased picante sauce" with whatever fresh salsa you have around.
I love chiles rellenos. One of my favorite things ever comes from a little Mexican restaurant in Michigan: a roasted poblano chile, stuffed with cheese and fried, then wrapped in a double layer of homemade corn tortillas. Food that's flavorful, luxurious, simple, and authentic, all in equal measure, is the heart of the reason that I like to write about food. It makes for such gorgeous reading.
I am not fooling myself into thinking that this recipe will be an authentic recreation of chiles rellenos, but I don't typically have the time to make them. It's fairly involved: roasting, steaming, peeling, seeding, stuffing, battering, and frying. I am hoping this will be a reasonably easy imitation of the real thing.
This is incredibly high in saturated fat, about 13 grams per serving. Consider it a treat, not a nightly side dish. I would make this with grilled, sliced chicken breasts and soft tortillas, and a big crunchy salad of romaine lettuce, sliced radishes, halved cherry tomatoes, and slivered red onions.
Serves 8.
Casserole-Style Chiles Rellenos
4 large poblano chile peppers (1 pound)
2 cups shredded Pepper Jack cheese
6 eggs
1/2 cup milk
2/3 cup all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon cayenne powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups cheddar cheese
1 cup purchased picante sauce
1/2 cup sour cream
Gas stove: prop peppers on a stove burner and put heat on high. Turn peppers with tongs until they are blistered and blackened all over. Turn off heat; transfer peppers to a bowl and cover tightly with plastic wrap. Let sit for 10 minutes, then remove from bowl. The skins should slip off the peppers easily, discard skins. Quarter peppers, remove seeds, veins, and stems. Place peppers, cut sides up, into a non-stick sprayed 3 quart square baking dish Top with pepper jack cheese.
Warning: the oils in poblano peppers can be absolutely incendiary. Wear rubber gloves, or coat your hands very lightly in vegetable oil, and wash very thoroughly with soap and water afterwards, especially before handling contact lenses. Otherwise, you will pass by being afraid you're going to die, and swiftly reach the stage of praying for it.
In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs and milk. Add flour, baking powder, cayenne, and salt. Whisk until smooth. Pour mixture over peppers and cheese in dish.
Bake, uncovered, in a 450 oven for 15-20 minutes, or until a knife inserted near the center comes out clean. Sprinkle with cheddar cheese. Bake 2 to 3 minutes more, or until cheese melts. Let stand for 5 minutes. Serve with salsa and sour cream.
A. Sandra Lee and Rachel Ray are not, in fact, in some kind of job-share arrangement as the antichrist. (Unlikely.)
B. Preservatives have the effect of making people live longer. (Equally unlikely.)
However, there are a few adjustments that I make when something calls for a can of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup: a handful of mushrooms, chopped, a few tablespoons of minced onion and a clove garlic, crushed, all browned together in two tablespoons of butter with a pinch of salt and a little pepper. Two tablespoons of flour mixed in, and a cup of reduced-fat or whole milk and a half-cup of chicken or vegetable broth stirred in until it all comes together. Simmer until thickened. Cream of Mushroom soup, just like that.
This particular recipe doesn't call for a can of soup. It has poblano peppers in it, which I think are vastly improved by roasting and peeling, not blanching, and I've adjusted the recipe to reflect that. Also, feel free to replace the "purchased picante sauce" with whatever fresh salsa you have around.
I love chiles rellenos. One of my favorite things ever comes from a little Mexican restaurant in Michigan: a roasted poblano chile, stuffed with cheese and fried, then wrapped in a double layer of homemade corn tortillas. Food that's flavorful, luxurious, simple, and authentic, all in equal measure, is the heart of the reason that I like to write about food. It makes for such gorgeous reading.
I am not fooling myself into thinking that this recipe will be an authentic recreation of chiles rellenos, but I don't typically have the time to make them. It's fairly involved: roasting, steaming, peeling, seeding, stuffing, battering, and frying. I am hoping this will be a reasonably easy imitation of the real thing.
This is incredibly high in saturated fat, about 13 grams per serving. Consider it a treat, not a nightly side dish. I would make this with grilled, sliced chicken breasts and soft tortillas, and a big crunchy salad of romaine lettuce, sliced radishes, halved cherry tomatoes, and slivered red onions.
Serves 8.
Casserole-Style Chiles Rellenos
4 large poblano chile peppers (1 pound)
2 cups shredded Pepper Jack cheese
6 eggs
1/2 cup milk
2/3 cup all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon cayenne powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups cheddar cheese
1 cup purchased picante sauce
1/2 cup sour cream
Gas stove: prop peppers on a stove burner and put heat on high. Turn peppers with tongs until they are blistered and blackened all over. Turn off heat; transfer peppers to a bowl and cover tightly with plastic wrap. Let sit for 10 minutes, then remove from bowl. The skins should slip off the peppers easily, discard skins. Quarter peppers, remove seeds, veins, and stems. Place peppers, cut sides up, into a non-stick sprayed 3 quart square baking dish Top with pepper jack cheese.
Warning: the oils in poblano peppers can be absolutely incendiary. Wear rubber gloves, or coat your hands very lightly in vegetable oil, and wash very thoroughly with soap and water afterwards, especially before handling contact lenses. Otherwise, you will pass by being afraid you're going to die, and swiftly reach the stage of praying for it.
In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs and milk. Add flour, baking powder, cayenne, and salt. Whisk until smooth. Pour mixture over peppers and cheese in dish.
Bake, uncovered, in a 450 oven for 15-20 minutes, or until a knife inserted near the center comes out clean. Sprinkle with cheddar cheese. Bake 2 to 3 minutes more, or until cheese melts. Let stand for 5 minutes. Serve with salsa and sour cream.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
March 1: Chicken-Noodle Casserole
Today seems like a good day for a casserole. I am tired and cranky, and my kid woke me up at 7. My back hurts. I have a lot of laundry to do.
And thusly, casserole sounds like just the thing--a comforting, honey one-pot meal that delivers everything I need in one scoop and leaves me with leftovers. I happen to have all of these things in the house right now. It's not fancy, it's not fussy, and it's not a lot of work.
If you were to want to make this even less work, you could use a rotisserie chicken from the deli, or leftover chicken you already had around the house. Also, I use reduced-sodium chicken broth in those aseptic cartons if I don't have my own homemade around the house. Also, reduced-fat cheese is a travesty, and I don't have any. Regular cheddar cheese is fine.
Serves six.
Chicken-Noodle Casserole
2/3 cup chopped onion
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon olive or canola oil
1 1/2 pounds boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 (14.5 ounce) can chicken broth
1 1/2 cups chopped carrots
3 celery ribs, chopped
1/2 teaspoon dried savory
3 tablespoons butter or stick margarine
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon white pepper
1 1/2 cups 2% milk
1 1/4 cups shredded reduced-fat Cheddar cheese
8 ounces wide egg noodles, cooked and drained
In a large nonstick skillet, saute onion and garlic in oil until tender. Add chicken; cook and stir until no longer pink. Add the broth, carrots, celery and savory. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 10-15 minutes or until vegetables are tender.
Meanwhile, in a saucepan, melt butter. Stir in the flour, salt and pepper until smooth. Gradually add milk. Bring to a boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. Remove from the heat; stir in cheese until melted. Pour over chicken mixture. Add noodles; mix well.
Transfer to a 3-qt. baking dish coated with nonstick cooking spray. Bake, uncovered, at 350 degrees F for 15-20 minutes or until bubbly.
And thusly, casserole sounds like just the thing--a comforting, honey one-pot meal that delivers everything I need in one scoop and leaves me with leftovers. I happen to have all of these things in the house right now. It's not fancy, it's not fussy, and it's not a lot of work.
If you were to want to make this even less work, you could use a rotisserie chicken from the deli, or leftover chicken you already had around the house. Also, I use reduced-sodium chicken broth in those aseptic cartons if I don't have my own homemade around the house. Also, reduced-fat cheese is a travesty, and I don't have any. Regular cheddar cheese is fine.
Serves six.
Chicken-Noodle Casserole
2/3 cup chopped onion
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon olive or canola oil
1 1/2 pounds boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 (14.5 ounce) can chicken broth
1 1/2 cups chopped carrots
3 celery ribs, chopped
1/2 teaspoon dried savory
3 tablespoons butter or stick margarine
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon white pepper
1 1/2 cups 2% milk
1 1/4 cups shredded reduced-fat Cheddar cheese
8 ounces wide egg noodles, cooked and drained
In a large nonstick skillet, saute onion and garlic in oil until tender. Add chicken; cook and stir until no longer pink. Add the broth, carrots, celery and savory. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 10-15 minutes or until vegetables are tender.
Meanwhile, in a saucepan, melt butter. Stir in the flour, salt and pepper until smooth. Gradually add milk. Bring to a boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. Remove from the heat; stir in cheese until melted. Pour over chicken mixture. Add noodles; mix well.
Transfer to a 3-qt. baking dish coated with nonstick cooking spray. Bake, uncovered, at 350 degrees F for 15-20 minutes or until bubbly.
Friday, February 29, 2008
February 29: Potato and Green Garlic Chowder
It's the last day of February and I have a hard time with the whole Leap Day thing. I mean, come on. If this were really a day, wouldn't we have one every year? This should be like, a bonus day or something, where we all sleep in until noon and nothing that we eat counts for calories or fat. That's a Leap Day I could get behind.
Anyway, it's almost March, which means spring vegetables are coming. Artichokes, asparagus, ramps, spring onions, and green garlic mean nice, light, balanced pasta dishes, sides, and appetizers, like asparagus with prosciutto in puff pastry and artichoke risotto and penne with green garlic and ricotta. Well, that last one might not be light exactly, but it is springy.
Green garlic, if you've never run into it, is an early spring treat if you have a great farmer's market. It's available from March to May and it's got a delicate garlic flavor, without the bite of raw regular garlic.
The Los Angeles times has a recipe for Potato and Green Garlic chowder, to which I say oh hell yes. Keep an eye out for these sprouty veggies; this sounds so worth having. Serves 4-6.
Potato and Green Garlic Chowder
1/2 pound green garlic
1 1/2 pounds fingerling potatoes
2 tablespoons butter
1 onion, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/2 to 3/4 teaspoon sherry vinegar
Black pepper
Good olive oil
Grated pecorino Romano
1. Trim the root ends of the green garlic and the very tips of the green leaves if they are dried out. Cut the green garlic crosswise in thin pieces. Slice the potatoes in half lengthwise and then into about half-inch pieces. Place them in a bowl of water to prevent coloring.
2. In a large saucepan, combine the butter and onion and cook over medium heat, stirring roughly until the butter melts and the onions turn soft and creamy, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add the garlic and the green garlic, reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook until the mixture is fragrant, about 5 minutes.
3. Add the potatoes and turn them in the garlic mixture. Add the broth and salt, increase the heat to medium and bring to a simmer. Loosely cover and cook at a quick simmer until the potatoes are soft enough to be smashed with a fork, about 20 minutes.
4. Coarsely purée the potatoes and garlic. This is most easily done with an immersion blender but can also be done in a food processor or blender if you're careful to pulse quickly. The mixture should be chunky, not a smooth purée.
5. Add one-half teaspoon sherry vinegarand a generous grinding of black pepper. Taste and add more salt, pepper or vinegar if necessary. Return to the pan and simmer another 5 minutes. This makes about 7 cups of soup.
6. Stir briskly just before serving. Ladle into warm serving bowls, drizzle with a thread of olive oil and sprinkle over 1 to 2 tablespoons grated pecorino Romano.
Anyway, it's almost March, which means spring vegetables are coming. Artichokes, asparagus, ramps, spring onions, and green garlic mean nice, light, balanced pasta dishes, sides, and appetizers, like asparagus with prosciutto in puff pastry and artichoke risotto and penne with green garlic and ricotta. Well, that last one might not be light exactly, but it is springy.
Green garlic, if you've never run into it, is an early spring treat if you have a great farmer's market. It's available from March to May and it's got a delicate garlic flavor, without the bite of raw regular garlic.
The Los Angeles times has a recipe for Potato and Green Garlic chowder, to which I say oh hell yes. Keep an eye out for these sprouty veggies; this sounds so worth having. Serves 4-6.
Potato and Green Garlic Chowder
1/2 pound green garlic
1 1/2 pounds fingerling potatoes
2 tablespoons butter
1 onion, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/2 to 3/4 teaspoon sherry vinegar
Black pepper
Good olive oil
Grated pecorino Romano
1. Trim the root ends of the green garlic and the very tips of the green leaves if they are dried out. Cut the green garlic crosswise in thin pieces. Slice the potatoes in half lengthwise and then into about half-inch pieces. Place them in a bowl of water to prevent coloring.
2. In a large saucepan, combine the butter and onion and cook over medium heat, stirring roughly until the butter melts and the onions turn soft and creamy, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add the garlic and the green garlic, reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook until the mixture is fragrant, about 5 minutes.
3. Add the potatoes and turn them in the garlic mixture. Add the broth and salt, increase the heat to medium and bring to a simmer. Loosely cover and cook at a quick simmer until the potatoes are soft enough to be smashed with a fork, about 20 minutes.
4. Coarsely purée the potatoes and garlic. This is most easily done with an immersion blender but can also be done in a food processor or blender if you're careful to pulse quickly. The mixture should be chunky, not a smooth purée.
5. Add one-half teaspoon sherry vinegarand a generous grinding of black pepper. Taste and add more salt, pepper or vinegar if necessary. Return to the pan and simmer another 5 minutes. This makes about 7 cups of soup.
6. Stir briskly just before serving. Ladle into warm serving bowls, drizzle with a thread of olive oil and sprinkle over 1 to 2 tablespoons grated pecorino Romano.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
February 28: Salad of Smoked Trout, Radicchio, and Grapefruit
Ask me why I don't have any recipes for fish on this site. Quick, ask me. Well, I'll tell you: I am afraid of fish.
I have a pretty eclectic palate, I think, and I don't consider myself a fussy eater. But when it comes to fish, I'm Sam I Am. I do not like them in a car, I do not like them in a bar. I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere.
Unless we're talking about smoked fish. And then I am on board. I can't tell you why I'm okay with smoked fish, except that I grew up close to Lake Michigan, and often vacationed there. When we did, my mother held an afternoon Happy Hour daily. We would come up from the beach to whatever condo or house we were renting and fix snacks and drinks and take them to the deck for a couple of hours before dinner. When it comes to liking snacktime better than an actual meal, I've been guilty as charged for my whole life.
Being near the lake, there was often smoked whitefish or lake trout available when we were vacationing, so that was often part of the Happy Hour snack buffet, along with veggies and dip, chips and salsa, hummus and pita bread, cheese and crackers, antipasto, stuffed mushrooms, or any other easy little easy snacks we had around. Even though I was never interested in fish in any other form, smoked fish is something I associate with vacation, summertime, long afternoons, and having nothing much to think about but cute boys on the beach.
I saw this recipe on another food blog this week, and I am aching to try it. In my head, I can see how it'll all come together: the sweet smokiness of the trout, the sweet-sour of the grapefruit, the bitter of the raddichio. This sounds like an amazing first course for an amazing meal, like maybe a roast tenderloin with crispy potatoes from the oven, followed by a poached pear with caramel sauce. I really need to invite people for dinner more often.
This serves 6. It originated in Food and Wine magazine nine years ago.
Daniel Boulud's Salad of Smoked Trout, Pink Grapefruit, and Radicchio
1 cup of bread in 1/2" cubes
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large pink grapefruit
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
1 head radicchio, about 3/4 pound
1 smoked trout (about 8 oz)
1/2 cup walnut pieces
2 teaspoons chopped fresh cilantro, plus additional whole leaves for garnish
3 small scallions, white parts only, thinly sliced
Salt
Pepper
1. Toss the bread cubes with the garlic and oil and then bake them in a 350 degree oven until the bread cubes are golden, about 7 minutes
2. Toast the walnut pieces in 350 degree oven until they are fragrant, about 5 minutes
3. Peel the grapefruit, and then peel the membranes off the individual sections. Do this over a bowl so you can catch the juice also. Set aside six sections for garnish and cut the remaining slices into small (approximately 1/2”) pieces.
4. Whisk together the cream and vinegar and season with salt and pepper.
5. Tear the radicchio leaves into bite-sized pieces. Toss with enough dressing to moisten well. Add the smoked trout, walnuts, chopped cilantro, scallions, grapefruit pieces, and croutons. Add salt and pepper, then toss well, adding more dressing if needed. Taste and adjust seasoning.
6. Garnish with reserved cilantro and reserved grapefruit. Serve with additional dressing on the side.
Note: Daniel Boloud suggests reserving 12 of the largest radicchio leaves and serve the salad in those, two to a person.
I have a pretty eclectic palate, I think, and I don't consider myself a fussy eater. But when it comes to fish, I'm Sam I Am. I do not like them in a car, I do not like them in a bar. I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere.
Unless we're talking about smoked fish. And then I am on board. I can't tell you why I'm okay with smoked fish, except that I grew up close to Lake Michigan, and often vacationed there. When we did, my mother held an afternoon Happy Hour daily. We would come up from the beach to whatever condo or house we were renting and fix snacks and drinks and take them to the deck for a couple of hours before dinner. When it comes to liking snacktime better than an actual meal, I've been guilty as charged for my whole life.
Being near the lake, there was often smoked whitefish or lake trout available when we were vacationing, so that was often part of the Happy Hour snack buffet, along with veggies and dip, chips and salsa, hummus and pita bread, cheese and crackers, antipasto, stuffed mushrooms, or any other easy little easy snacks we had around. Even though I was never interested in fish in any other form, smoked fish is something I associate with vacation, summertime, long afternoons, and having nothing much to think about but cute boys on the beach.
I saw this recipe on another food blog this week, and I am aching to try it. In my head, I can see how it'll all come together: the sweet smokiness of the trout, the sweet-sour of the grapefruit, the bitter of the raddichio. This sounds like an amazing first course for an amazing meal, like maybe a roast tenderloin with crispy potatoes from the oven, followed by a poached pear with caramel sauce. I really need to invite people for dinner more often.
This serves 6. It originated in Food and Wine magazine nine years ago.
Daniel Boulud's Salad of Smoked Trout, Pink Grapefruit, and Radicchio
1 cup of bread in 1/2" cubes
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large pink grapefruit
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
1 head radicchio, about 3/4 pound
1 smoked trout (about 8 oz)
1/2 cup walnut pieces
2 teaspoons chopped fresh cilantro, plus additional whole leaves for garnish
3 small scallions, white parts only, thinly sliced
Salt
Pepper
1. Toss the bread cubes with the garlic and oil and then bake them in a 350 degree oven until the bread cubes are golden, about 7 minutes
2. Toast the walnut pieces in 350 degree oven until they are fragrant, about 5 minutes
3. Peel the grapefruit, and then peel the membranes off the individual sections. Do this over a bowl so you can catch the juice also. Set aside six sections for garnish and cut the remaining slices into small (approximately 1/2”) pieces.
4. Whisk together the cream and vinegar and season with salt and pepper.
5. Tear the radicchio leaves into bite-sized pieces. Toss with enough dressing to moisten well. Add the smoked trout, walnuts, chopped cilantro, scallions, grapefruit pieces, and croutons. Add salt and pepper, then toss well, adding more dressing if needed. Taste and adjust seasoning.
6. Garnish with reserved cilantro and reserved grapefruit. Serve with additional dressing on the side.
Note: Daniel Boloud suggests reserving 12 of the largest radicchio leaves and serve the salad in those, two to a person.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
February 27: Lobster Rolls
That thing? The thing I wrote yesterday and a little bit today and posted right below here? Yeah, I still really, really mean it. Scroll down, read it, leave me a comment, and then come back. I'll wait.
Back? Great. Let's talk about lobster.
There are places I've not spent a great deal of time in my life and one of them is New England. Dan and I were talking, while we were on vacation, about places that we could retire to where we could live next to the ocean, have real winters, and not die from the humidity and heat in the summer. Maine came up, and Dan said "We could eat lobster all the time."
I understand (mostly from reading Stephen King novels) that people from Maine sort of poke fun at the tourists who come there to eat lobsters. Let me just say that Baltimore and points east don't have that problem with the tourists who come there to eat crab.
I could definitely live in a place where lobster is a staple of my diet, but it's mostly a delicacy now, and one I don't take advantage of, because mostly it's boiled to a rubbery fare-thee-well and totally inedible, or frozen so long it tastes mostly like iodine, and served in a restaurant that has the audacity to charge $24.99 for it. Lobster should be sweet, tender, briny, or I'll pass.
I can't remember where or when I saw this (probably on the Food Network, and years ago), but I once saw a chef preparing lobster rolls. A lobster roll is a New England regional specialty which consists of a plain white hot dog bun (chosen for its lack of anything to distract from the filling) stuffed full of lobster salad. Simple as can be. It looked amazing. Perfect.
This would be great, I think, for a casual get-together, especially as (knock on wood) the weather gets warmer. Serve it with coleslaw, chips, and cold beer.
Oh, and let me just say this about lobster: suck it up, okay? It's an ocean cockroach, it eats sea junk, it's the scourge of its own microcosm. Throw it in the pot and boil it, don't stand over the pot listening for it to scream. All current research says that they're not capable of feeling pain, so don't go and buy frozen lobster meat or any other ridiculous thing because you're squeamish; it's not the same. In looking at recipes for this, I found a site that illustrated how to keep a lobster's tail straight when cooking it, and it involved inserting a wooden skewer in a spot that...let's just say you wouldn't want a wooden skewer inserted in a corresponding place on your own person, but I'm not asking you to do that. Don't yell at me: I'm not all about the animal cruelty. But this is one time that I'm going to say that I'm at the top of the food chain and lobster tastes delicious, and my karma will just have to take the hit. This serves 4, maybe with a little salad left over to eat on a bed of greens the next day. Mmmmmmmm.
Lobster Rolls
4 Split top white hot dog rolls
4 large (1 1/2 lb.) live lobsters
1/2-2/3 cup mayonnaise, or to taste
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
4 scallions, white and about half of the green part, sliced thin
1 stalk celery, diced fine
Bring a large pot of water to a full rolling boil over high heat. Drop in the lobsters, lower heat to medium, and cover. Cook 8-9 minutes. Remove from pot and chill completely.
Remove meat from lobster: using a gentle twisting motion, separate the tail section from the body section. Break the claws away from the body. Use a sharp, very clean pair of kitchen shears to cut a slit down the tail section, and remove the meat. Use whatever means works best for you for removing the claw meat as well (I use a wooden skewer; those tiny forks just make a mess for me.)
Chop the meat into not-too-small chunks (maybe 1-inch chunks or so, maybe a little smaller.) Mix with mayo, salt, pepper, scallions and celery. This salad should be not too mayonnaise-y, but a little wet. Rely on your judgement and taste.
Pile lobster mixture into rolls. Serve.
Back? Great. Let's talk about lobster.
There are places I've not spent a great deal of time in my life and one of them is New England. Dan and I were talking, while we were on vacation, about places that we could retire to where we could live next to the ocean, have real winters, and not die from the humidity and heat in the summer. Maine came up, and Dan said "We could eat lobster all the time."
I understand (mostly from reading Stephen King novels) that people from Maine sort of poke fun at the tourists who come there to eat lobsters. Let me just say that Baltimore and points east don't have that problem with the tourists who come there to eat crab.
I could definitely live in a place where lobster is a staple of my diet, but it's mostly a delicacy now, and one I don't take advantage of, because mostly it's boiled to a rubbery fare-thee-well and totally inedible, or frozen so long it tastes mostly like iodine, and served in a restaurant that has the audacity to charge $24.99 for it. Lobster should be sweet, tender, briny, or I'll pass.
I can't remember where or when I saw this (probably on the Food Network, and years ago), but I once saw a chef preparing lobster rolls. A lobster roll is a New England regional specialty which consists of a plain white hot dog bun (chosen for its lack of anything to distract from the filling) stuffed full of lobster salad. Simple as can be. It looked amazing. Perfect.
This would be great, I think, for a casual get-together, especially as (knock on wood) the weather gets warmer. Serve it with coleslaw, chips, and cold beer.
Oh, and let me just say this about lobster: suck it up, okay? It's an ocean cockroach, it eats sea junk, it's the scourge of its own microcosm. Throw it in the pot and boil it, don't stand over the pot listening for it to scream. All current research says that they're not capable of feeling pain, so don't go and buy frozen lobster meat or any other ridiculous thing because you're squeamish; it's not the same. In looking at recipes for this, I found a site that illustrated how to keep a lobster's tail straight when cooking it, and it involved inserting a wooden skewer in a spot that...let's just say you wouldn't want a wooden skewer inserted in a corresponding place on your own person, but I'm not asking you to do that. Don't yell at me: I'm not all about the animal cruelty. But this is one time that I'm going to say that I'm at the top of the food chain and lobster tastes delicious, and my karma will just have to take the hit. This serves 4, maybe with a little salad left over to eat on a bed of greens the next day. Mmmmmmmm.
Lobster Rolls
4 Split top white hot dog rolls
4 large (1 1/2 lb.) live lobsters
1/2-2/3 cup mayonnaise, or to taste
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
4 scallions, white and about half of the green part, sliced thin
1 stalk celery, diced fine
Bring a large pot of water to a full rolling boil over high heat. Drop in the lobsters, lower heat to medium, and cover. Cook 8-9 minutes. Remove from pot and chill completely.
Remove meat from lobster: using a gentle twisting motion, separate the tail section from the body section. Break the claws away from the body. Use a sharp, very clean pair of kitchen shears to cut a slit down the tail section, and remove the meat. Use whatever means works best for you for removing the claw meat as well (I use a wooden skewer; those tiny forks just make a mess for me.)
Chop the meat into not-too-small chunks (maybe 1-inch chunks or so, maybe a little smaller.) Mix with mayo, salt, pepper, scallions and celery. This salad should be not too mayonnaise-y, but a little wet. Rely on your judgement and taste.
Pile lobster mixture into rolls. Serve.
The Politics of Food
Let me just say that I'm a political person. I follow politics. I am interested in politics. I pay attention to politics. I think politics are important and interesting.
A British chef and cookbook author who I mostly think is full of shit, however, thinks that cooks (and celebrity chefs in particular) should stay out of politics.
Delia Brown, I'll keep food out of politics when politics stay out of my food.
There was a great deal of discussion at Mark Bittman's blog Bitten yesterday about how poor people eat poorly (nutrition-wise, that is) due mostly to ignorance. I would just like to say that while this may not be the medium to get political, I am offended on the behalf of poor people living in cities everywhere.
The comments on the blog ranged from "These poor people should plant a garden and grow their own vegetables, eat less meat and poultry, and stop eating so much processed junk! We should educate poor people everywhere as to why their health is bad, their children are failing in school, and their communities are in ruins!" to "The cultural bias of poor people is to eat large amounts of bad-quality, badly prepared, unhealthy food. There's nothing that can be done for people who don't know any different."
I am horrified by the ignorant, elitist, stereotyping nature of these comments, as I feel quite certain that none of the commenters have any idea what it's like to be poor in the inner city.
Poor people don't eat junk food because they love to eat junk food. Poor people eat junk food because junk food is what's available to them and they don't get a lot of say in what is ultimately on their table at the end of the day.
If you don't think that there's any conceivable way that could be true, let me give you a snapshot of what it's like to be poor in Washington D.C.
You probably are the single head of a household in a family of three or four, and you're probably female. You probably work at least two jobs, one at $9-10 an hour, the other at $7. You probably live in Southeast, an area of the city that is frequently compared to certain parts of Atlanta, Detroit, and South-Central Los Angeles for its rates of poverty and crime, in a one-bedroom apartment. Chances are, you rely on Section 8 vouchers to help you pay your rent, and chances are, that is not the only form of public assistance that you recieve. You might be helping to support one of your parents, or a sibling. You're probably paying at least something for daycare, but you get some assistance from vouchers as well. Maybe you have a sister who watches your kids at night, or a parent.
You probably rely on public transportation, because you've never owned a car or learned to drive. In your neighborhood, there are probably a dozen carryout restaurants and at least that many convenience and liquor stores. There are check-cashing services, and maybe payday advance outlets. There might be a bank. There is no grocery store.
Let me say that again. There is no grocery store in your neighborhood. There isn't one within walking distance. You have to take two buses to get to the nearest grocery store, and walk 3/4 of a mile. On a Saturday, your only day to shop, it might take you an hour to get there if the buses run on schedule. An hour there, an hour to shop, and an hour home.
Remember, you are poor, so you're probably not in the best of health. Hypertension? Probably. Type II diabetes? Possibly. That mile and a half you walk round-trip to get to and from the grocery store is a major effort for you, especially in the winter, when it might be icy, or in the summer, when it's most definitely hot and humid.
But you have two or three kids to feed, and most of your food budget comes from WIC or other public assistance. The convenience stores in your neighborhood don't accept food stamps or Bridge cards, and even if they did, that pound of bananas that cost $.49 at Save-A-Lot? They're $1.89 in your neighborhood. A gallon of milk costs $2.99 at Shoppers; Joe's Convenience Store has that same gallon of milk priced at $4.19. A small can of vegetables is $1.49, but in your neighborhood, there isn't anyplace to buy fresh vegetables. And you have to pay cash.
So you might shop once a week at one of the bigger discount grocery chains, making that walk with your kids and your folding grocery cart, then taking the two buses. Say you've got two kids to feed for a week, plus yourself. Your kids qualify for free breakfasts and lunches at school (and don't even get me started on the quality and nutrition available in school lunches), and you carry your lunch and eat dinner at work (your second job is probably in food service somewhere), that's two breakfasts times three people (6), five lunches times one (5) and two lunches times three (6), five dinners times two people (10) and two dinners times three (6). That's 33 meals and no snacks. Count on ten bags of groceries.
So are you buying organic carrots for $3.99 a pound? Local produce at three times the cost of commercially-farmed? Of course you're not! Produce is expensive, and heavy, and doesn't stretch very far, even if there's anything like that available in the grocery store where you shop. This isn't Trader Joe's. Plus, your kids might not eat it, and that's a waste. So you're buying potatoes and rice and pasta and dried beans, maybe some canned veggies, fruit, peanut butter and jelly, cheaper cuts of chicken and meat. You might have an hour or two at home in the evenings to feed your kids before you go off to your second job, so things like TV dinners and frozen pizzas and lasagnas are quick and your kids like them. The WIC nurse says that your kids need dairy products for calcium, so it's milk and cheese and eggs and maybe yogurt. White bread, because it's cheaper. Individual bags of chips for snacks, maybe Fruit Rollups, maybe Kool-Aid or off-brand sodas. Sugar, flour, and other staples.
You've got a grocery cart which carries three or four bags of your heaviest groceries. Some grocery stores have riders out front--unauthorized taxi services that will take home shoppers and their groceries for money, usually in the $10 range. You need your $10 though, so you're taking the bus. Your oldest kid carries a couple bags, your youngest might carry a bag for you too. That leaves you pushing or pulling your cart and carrying the last three bags as well.
The bus is late. Hope it's not summer, because if it is, you're sitting in the sun with all that food--chicken, meat, milk, cheese, eggs, frozen food. It's all going bad while you wait.
Could you bake your own bread? Sure, maybe you'll get time for that someday, but not this week. Could you grow your own vegetables? Where? The fire escape? You don't have a yard.
I'm not making this stuff up or exaggerating; this is modern hunting and gathering for poor urban families where I live. Of course poor people eat junk food! Of course they're not in good health. Of course their kids don't do well in school. Of course this lifestyle contributes to a cycle of poverty that is hurting millions of people every day in very profound ways.
Food isn't like driving a nice car or having high-speed internet access. Think about how you would feel about your kids going to bed hungry at night, or being contacted by their teacher because they're falling asleep in class. Just think about how helpless you would feel at having to choose between keeping a roof over their heads or giving them the basic nutrition that they need to break this impossibly ugly cycle of poverty and dispair.
I shop at a comfortable suburban grocery store and I seldom worry about the cost of my food. I know what to give my husband and my son and myself and how to prepare it to keep all of us healthy and functioning at optimal, and I don't have to make impossible choices like keeping the lights on or keeping my kid from being too hungry to concentrate. I have the opportunity to shop for locally-produced, sustainably grown goods and organic vegetables, fruit, and meat, and as often as I can, I take advantage of it.
But this stupid goddamn elitist attitude of bragging about where our food comes from and then looking down our noses at people who genuinely don't have the luxury of making the choices that I make is absolutely the worst, stupidest, most ass-backward form of knee-jerk liberalism anywhere. It's bad, and not in a good way. It's unproductive. It's biased and sad. And I see so much of it in reading about food. The nerve of chastizing people who struggle every month to feed their kids and keep the lights on and the roof over their heads for not owning a bread machine with which to bake their own bread or a yard in which to grow their own vegetables is staggering to me. Practically demanding that poor people cease eating meat left me speechless.
I think we should have a real discussion about the politics of food in America's poorest communities, but I think that when the focus of this discussion is about why America's poorest communities aren't growing their own microgreens or baking their own bread, we are missing the point so massively that it makes me sick. I want to talk about why there aren't incentives for major grocery stores to move into neighborhoods where accessability to fresh, affordable food is a major roadblock. I want to talk about the correlation between food and education, especially early childhood education. I want to talk about why people whose food budget exceeds $1200 a month think it's okay to tell someone who doesn't own a car that they shouldn't eat junk food and only does so because that person is stupid. I want people to understand something about modern poverty: the solutions to this problem aren't fixed by organics. They're fixed by understanding what the problem really is.
So far, the people who are doing virtually all of the talking don't seem to be able to wrap their heads around it.
A British chef and cookbook author who I mostly think is full of shit, however, thinks that cooks (and celebrity chefs in particular) should stay out of politics.
Delia Brown, I'll keep food out of politics when politics stay out of my food.
There was a great deal of discussion at Mark Bittman's blog Bitten yesterday about how poor people eat poorly (nutrition-wise, that is) due mostly to ignorance. I would just like to say that while this may not be the medium to get political, I am offended on the behalf of poor people living in cities everywhere.
The comments on the blog ranged from "These poor people should plant a garden and grow their own vegetables, eat less meat and poultry, and stop eating so much processed junk! We should educate poor people everywhere as to why their health is bad, their children are failing in school, and their communities are in ruins!" to "The cultural bias of poor people is to eat large amounts of bad-quality, badly prepared, unhealthy food. There's nothing that can be done for people who don't know any different."
I am horrified by the ignorant, elitist, stereotyping nature of these comments, as I feel quite certain that none of the commenters have any idea what it's like to be poor in the inner city.
Poor people don't eat junk food because they love to eat junk food. Poor people eat junk food because junk food is what's available to them and they don't get a lot of say in what is ultimately on their table at the end of the day.
If you don't think that there's any conceivable way that could be true, let me give you a snapshot of what it's like to be poor in Washington D.C.
You probably are the single head of a household in a family of three or four, and you're probably female. You probably work at least two jobs, one at $9-10 an hour, the other at $7. You probably live in Southeast, an area of the city that is frequently compared to certain parts of Atlanta, Detroit, and South-Central Los Angeles for its rates of poverty and crime, in a one-bedroom apartment. Chances are, you rely on Section 8 vouchers to help you pay your rent, and chances are, that is not the only form of public assistance that you recieve. You might be helping to support one of your parents, or a sibling. You're probably paying at least something for daycare, but you get some assistance from vouchers as well. Maybe you have a sister who watches your kids at night, or a parent.
You probably rely on public transportation, because you've never owned a car or learned to drive. In your neighborhood, there are probably a dozen carryout restaurants and at least that many convenience and liquor stores. There are check-cashing services, and maybe payday advance outlets. There might be a bank. There is no grocery store.
Let me say that again. There is no grocery store in your neighborhood. There isn't one within walking distance. You have to take two buses to get to the nearest grocery store, and walk 3/4 of a mile. On a Saturday, your only day to shop, it might take you an hour to get there if the buses run on schedule. An hour there, an hour to shop, and an hour home.
Remember, you are poor, so you're probably not in the best of health. Hypertension? Probably. Type II diabetes? Possibly. That mile and a half you walk round-trip to get to and from the grocery store is a major effort for you, especially in the winter, when it might be icy, or in the summer, when it's most definitely hot and humid.
But you have two or three kids to feed, and most of your food budget comes from WIC or other public assistance. The convenience stores in your neighborhood don't accept food stamps or Bridge cards, and even if they did, that pound of bananas that cost $.49 at Save-A-Lot? They're $1.89 in your neighborhood. A gallon of milk costs $2.99 at Shoppers; Joe's Convenience Store has that same gallon of milk priced at $4.19. A small can of vegetables is $1.49, but in your neighborhood, there isn't anyplace to buy fresh vegetables. And you have to pay cash.
So you might shop once a week at one of the bigger discount grocery chains, making that walk with your kids and your folding grocery cart, then taking the two buses. Say you've got two kids to feed for a week, plus yourself. Your kids qualify for free breakfasts and lunches at school (and don't even get me started on the quality and nutrition available in school lunches), and you carry your lunch and eat dinner at work (your second job is probably in food service somewhere), that's two breakfasts times three people (6), five lunches times one (5) and two lunches times three (6), five dinners times two people (10) and two dinners times three (6). That's 33 meals and no snacks. Count on ten bags of groceries.
So are you buying organic carrots for $3.99 a pound? Local produce at three times the cost of commercially-farmed? Of course you're not! Produce is expensive, and heavy, and doesn't stretch very far, even if there's anything like that available in the grocery store where you shop. This isn't Trader Joe's. Plus, your kids might not eat it, and that's a waste. So you're buying potatoes and rice and pasta and dried beans, maybe some canned veggies, fruit, peanut butter and jelly, cheaper cuts of chicken and meat. You might have an hour or two at home in the evenings to feed your kids before you go off to your second job, so things like TV dinners and frozen pizzas and lasagnas are quick and your kids like them. The WIC nurse says that your kids need dairy products for calcium, so it's milk and cheese and eggs and maybe yogurt. White bread, because it's cheaper. Individual bags of chips for snacks, maybe Fruit Rollups, maybe Kool-Aid or off-brand sodas. Sugar, flour, and other staples.
You've got a grocery cart which carries three or four bags of your heaviest groceries. Some grocery stores have riders out front--unauthorized taxi services that will take home shoppers and their groceries for money, usually in the $10 range. You need your $10 though, so you're taking the bus. Your oldest kid carries a couple bags, your youngest might carry a bag for you too. That leaves you pushing or pulling your cart and carrying the last three bags as well.
The bus is late. Hope it's not summer, because if it is, you're sitting in the sun with all that food--chicken, meat, milk, cheese, eggs, frozen food. It's all going bad while you wait.
Could you bake your own bread? Sure, maybe you'll get time for that someday, but not this week. Could you grow your own vegetables? Where? The fire escape? You don't have a yard.
I'm not making this stuff up or exaggerating; this is modern hunting and gathering for poor urban families where I live. Of course poor people eat junk food! Of course they're not in good health. Of course their kids don't do well in school. Of course this lifestyle contributes to a cycle of poverty that is hurting millions of people every day in very profound ways.
Food isn't like driving a nice car or having high-speed internet access. Think about how you would feel about your kids going to bed hungry at night, or being contacted by their teacher because they're falling asleep in class. Just think about how helpless you would feel at having to choose between keeping a roof over their heads or giving them the basic nutrition that they need to break this impossibly ugly cycle of poverty and dispair.
I shop at a comfortable suburban grocery store and I seldom worry about the cost of my food. I know what to give my husband and my son and myself and how to prepare it to keep all of us healthy and functioning at optimal, and I don't have to make impossible choices like keeping the lights on or keeping my kid from being too hungry to concentrate. I have the opportunity to shop for locally-produced, sustainably grown goods and organic vegetables, fruit, and meat, and as often as I can, I take advantage of it.
But this stupid goddamn elitist attitude of bragging about where our food comes from and then looking down our noses at people who genuinely don't have the luxury of making the choices that I make is absolutely the worst, stupidest, most ass-backward form of knee-jerk liberalism anywhere. It's bad, and not in a good way. It's unproductive. It's biased and sad. And I see so much of it in reading about food. The nerve of chastizing people who struggle every month to feed their kids and keep the lights on and the roof over their heads for not owning a bread machine with which to bake their own bread or a yard in which to grow their own vegetables is staggering to me. Practically demanding that poor people cease eating meat left me speechless.
I think we should have a real discussion about the politics of food in America's poorest communities, but I think that when the focus of this discussion is about why America's poorest communities aren't growing their own microgreens or baking their own bread, we are missing the point so massively that it makes me sick. I want to talk about why there aren't incentives for major grocery stores to move into neighborhoods where accessability to fresh, affordable food is a major roadblock. I want to talk about the correlation between food and education, especially early childhood education. I want to talk about why people whose food budget exceeds $1200 a month think it's okay to tell someone who doesn't own a car that they shouldn't eat junk food and only does so because that person is stupid. I want people to understand something about modern poverty: the solutions to this problem aren't fixed by organics. They're fixed by understanding what the problem really is.
So far, the people who are doing virtually all of the talking don't seem to be able to wrap their heads around it.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
February 26: Chile-Garlic Salsa
Sunday Nite Dinner has a recipe up for Vietnamese Chili Garlic sauce that looks amazing. It calls for a pound--a pound!--of habanero chiles, unseeded. This has got to taste like a blast furnace.
Practically every grocery store in America carries a variety of hot sauces marketed, it seems, mostly to knuckleheads in football jerseys whose aim in consuming hot sauce seems to be to try to make their other knucklehead friends cry first. It doesn't require much of a palate, or an imagination--only a high tolerance for pain. California Tortilla Company, a restaurant in our neighborhood, even has 80 or 90 bottles of hot sauce on shelves around the restaurant to sample.
Most of them don't do it for me. I love the heat, but I also want a blast of flavor, not just a shot of gasoline shaken over my food. Most are overwhelmed by the flavor of smoke or vinegar and come between me and the flavor of whatever I'm eating.
My favorite hot sauce is one that I make myself. I don't remember where it came from originally, only that it is incredibly simple and it's pure genius. It is reminiscent of that big plastic bottle of Siracha Thai-style chili-garlic sauce, but without the hit of vinegar and with a bigger bang of heat.
What to do with it? What not to do? Stir it into hot and sour soup. Mix into Asian noodle dishes. Drizzle it sparingly over grilled chicken. Give your Mexican rice impact. Toss it with short, nubbly pasta along with some chopped grilled or roasted veggies and crumbled feta or queso anjio. Stir it into a bowl of sour cream with a squeeze of lime juice and it's pure heaven on a taco or an enchilada. Add to a dull jarred salsa to revive it. Add it to stir-fried veggies. Brown ground beef for tacos in a spoonful of it.
This is made with dried chiles, which have to be soaked. To keep them submerged while soaking, I use my folding vegetable steamer in a bowl slightly larger around than the steamer. I put the chiles in the bottom, the steamer on top of them, and pour the boiling water over top to cover by an inch or so. The steamer holds everything down.
Makes about 1 cup and keeps forever in the refrigerator.
Chile-Garlic Salsa
1/2 pound (about 30) dried red chiles (I use New Mexico or pasilla chiles, depending on what looks good in the grocery store--they should be dark red and slightly pliable, not dusty and fossilized. Other possibilities include ancho, cascabel, or mulatos)
10-15 cloves garlic, peeled
1/2 cup olive oil
2 teaspoons table salt
Soak chiles in boiling water to cover for 20 minutes. Drain and reserve 1/2 cup soaking liquid.
In a food processor, combine chiles, garlic and salt. Process to a coarse paste. With food processor running slowly pour in the olive oil until everything comes together to a fairly smooth paste. If it is still a little thicker than you like, add the reserved soaking liquid, a tablespoon or two at a time.
Will keep indefinitely. If this is too hot for your taste, add vinegar to tame the heat.
Practically every grocery store in America carries a variety of hot sauces marketed, it seems, mostly to knuckleheads in football jerseys whose aim in consuming hot sauce seems to be to try to make their other knucklehead friends cry first. It doesn't require much of a palate, or an imagination--only a high tolerance for pain. California Tortilla Company, a restaurant in our neighborhood, even has 80 or 90 bottles of hot sauce on shelves around the restaurant to sample.
Most of them don't do it for me. I love the heat, but I also want a blast of flavor, not just a shot of gasoline shaken over my food. Most are overwhelmed by the flavor of smoke or vinegar and come between me and the flavor of whatever I'm eating.
My favorite hot sauce is one that I make myself. I don't remember where it came from originally, only that it is incredibly simple and it's pure genius. It is reminiscent of that big plastic bottle of Siracha Thai-style chili-garlic sauce, but without the hit of vinegar and with a bigger bang of heat.
What to do with it? What not to do? Stir it into hot and sour soup. Mix into Asian noodle dishes. Drizzle it sparingly over grilled chicken. Give your Mexican rice impact. Toss it with short, nubbly pasta along with some chopped grilled or roasted veggies and crumbled feta or queso anjio. Stir it into a bowl of sour cream with a squeeze of lime juice and it's pure heaven on a taco or an enchilada. Add to a dull jarred salsa to revive it. Add it to stir-fried veggies. Brown ground beef for tacos in a spoonful of it.
This is made with dried chiles, which have to be soaked. To keep them submerged while soaking, I use my folding vegetable steamer in a bowl slightly larger around than the steamer. I put the chiles in the bottom, the steamer on top of them, and pour the boiling water over top to cover by an inch or so. The steamer holds everything down.
Makes about 1 cup and keeps forever in the refrigerator.
Chile-Garlic Salsa
1/2 pound (about 30) dried red chiles (I use New Mexico or pasilla chiles, depending on what looks good in the grocery store--they should be dark red and slightly pliable, not dusty and fossilized. Other possibilities include ancho, cascabel, or mulatos)
10-15 cloves garlic, peeled
1/2 cup olive oil
2 teaspoons table salt
Soak chiles in boiling water to cover for 20 minutes. Drain and reserve 1/2 cup soaking liquid.
In a food processor, combine chiles, garlic and salt. Process to a coarse paste. With food processor running slowly pour in the olive oil until everything comes together to a fairly smooth paste. If it is still a little thicker than you like, add the reserved soaking liquid, a tablespoon or two at a time.
Will keep indefinitely. If this is too hot for your taste, add vinegar to tame the heat.
Monday, February 25, 2008
February 25: Mexican Mini-Meatloaves
In a comment over the weekend, Kimberly asked about my Mexican Mini-Meatloaves, which I referenced in the thing about the bacon-wrapped meatloaf...it's all meat all the time here, so I guess it doesn't matter that it's supposed to be Meatless Main Dish Monday here at Casa de Kitchen. My mini-meatloaves rule.
The truth is, I got the recipe out of a food magazine that Kraft publishes. Mostly, the magazine makes my skin crawl--the "recipes" are really just basically advertising for their products, and nary a fresh, wholesome, unprocessed ingredient to be found.
Not that there's a lot of fresh and wholesome in meatloaf. I have an ex-boyfriend whose hatred of anything vegetable was world-renowned; I used to puree spinach, zucchini, summer squash, mushrooms, and any other vegetable I could find and throw it in meatloaf and smile smugly as he wolfed it down without even tasting it, as he did with everything, a la Jessica Seinfeld. Sucker.
As Kimberly said, my husband does love little food. He couldn't be happier than he is with a plate of sliders in front of him, a situation which has led to a weight gain over the past five years that I don't think he would be totally comfortable with me talking about.
But this recipe couldn't be any simpler, and it's fast and easy. You can stir in whatever your imagination can come up with. I've made it Mexican-style, as I describe here, with sauteed sweet corn and peppers on the side. I've made it Italian-style, with marinara, parmesan cheese, and spaghetti on the side. I've even made it barbecue style, with leftover baked beans and barbecue sauce and longhorn cheddar, with garlic mashed potatoes.
The concept is not a complicated one: meat, binder, and whatever ingredients turn you on. Spray your muffin tins well with nonstick spray--this can be hopelessly sticky--or use silicone muffin cups, like I do. Get started with this, and then use your imagination for the things that can stand in for the salsa. Substitute ground turkey for ground beef, or even ground chicken. Go crazy.
Mexican Mini-Meatloaves
1 lb. 85% lean ground beef
1 package Stove top chicken stuffing
1 cup water
1 1/2 cups salsa (jarred, fresh, or pico de gallo from the deli)
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
Preheat oven to 350. Spray a muffin tin with nonstick cooking spray.
Mix together beef, stuffing, water, and 1/2 cup salsa. Pack mixture lightly into muffin tins, using your thumb to hollow a space in the middle.
Spoon the remaining salsa into the hollows. Sprinkle with cheese. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes, or until internal temperature reaches 160. Serve.
The truth is, I got the recipe out of a food magazine that Kraft publishes. Mostly, the magazine makes my skin crawl--the "recipes" are really just basically advertising for their products, and nary a fresh, wholesome, unprocessed ingredient to be found.
Not that there's a lot of fresh and wholesome in meatloaf. I have an ex-boyfriend whose hatred of anything vegetable was world-renowned; I used to puree spinach, zucchini, summer squash, mushrooms, and any other vegetable I could find and throw it in meatloaf and smile smugly as he wolfed it down without even tasting it, as he did with everything, a la Jessica Seinfeld. Sucker.
As Kimberly said, my husband does love little food. He couldn't be happier than he is with a plate of sliders in front of him, a situation which has led to a weight gain over the past five years that I don't think he would be totally comfortable with me talking about.
But this recipe couldn't be any simpler, and it's fast and easy. You can stir in whatever your imagination can come up with. I've made it Mexican-style, as I describe here, with sauteed sweet corn and peppers on the side. I've made it Italian-style, with marinara, parmesan cheese, and spaghetti on the side. I've even made it barbecue style, with leftover baked beans and barbecue sauce and longhorn cheddar, with garlic mashed potatoes.
The concept is not a complicated one: meat, binder, and whatever ingredients turn you on. Spray your muffin tins well with nonstick spray--this can be hopelessly sticky--or use silicone muffin cups, like I do. Get started with this, and then use your imagination for the things that can stand in for the salsa. Substitute ground turkey for ground beef, or even ground chicken. Go crazy.
Mexican Mini-Meatloaves
1 lb. 85% lean ground beef
1 package Stove top chicken stuffing
1 cup water
1 1/2 cups salsa (jarred, fresh, or pico de gallo from the deli)
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
Preheat oven to 350. Spray a muffin tin with nonstick cooking spray.
Mix together beef, stuffing, water, and 1/2 cup salsa. Pack mixture lightly into muffin tins, using your thumb to hollow a space in the middle.
Spoon the remaining salsa into the hollows. Sprinkle with cheese. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes, or until internal temperature reaches 160. Serve.
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