Food Snob on a Tuesday Night

Resurrection.

2011-01-27T08:14:00.001-08:00

My little food snob of a blog has been rattling in her cage lately. For a minute there, she was placated by Christmas carols and New Year's vacations, but the din she makes around supper-time is outrageous.

So I'm Back.

I'm back, and I'm going to tell you about fish tacos.
The first thing to know about fish tacos is that I'm usually very partial to the beer-battered deep-fried kind. However, I wasn't feeling that heavy last Monday so I decided to just wing it.

And that's when the cage broke.

Non-Battered Fish Tacos
Feeds two people two-to-three tacos

For fish:
1 lb Cod Pieces
1/2 c. flour
1 tbsp Aleppo

For Cabbage: (can be made ahead)
3/4 a bag shredded cabbage (or half a small head)
1/3 c. plain Greek yogurt (I use 2%)*
1-2 tbsp. Mayonnaise
1 tbsp Penzey's Buttermilk ranch mix*
1 tsp. Aleppo*
Juice from half a lime
salt and pepper to taste

To Serve:
1 pt. grape or cherry tomatoes
small diameter tortillas
shredded cheese (optional)

Method:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Defrost fish in a bowl of cold water. While fish is bathing, cut the tomatoes in half and arrange them face up on a baking sheet with sides. Cover the sheet first with tinfoil if you also hate washing baking sheets. Drizzle olive oil, salt and pepper on the tomatoes and put them in the now-warm oven.
Don't forget about them.
Check on fish. Change its water if necessary, or, If its defrosted, pour the water off and dry it on paper towels.
To assemble cabbage, mix everything together in a large bowl. To be fair, I didn't actually measure any of that stuff when I made it, so use your head, if necessary. If you are not eating immediately, or are preparing the cabbage in advance (which isn't a half bad idea), err on the side of too much cabbage/not enough dressing, as just a couple hours will reduce the volume of the cabbage by half as it absorbs the dressing and settles/looses air.
Once the fish is dry (ish) mix the flour and Aleppo. You'll be shocked to learn that I didn't measure this either, but your looking for a fairly high ratio of Aleppo to flour, and just enough flour to coat all your fish pieces.
Heat your favorite frying pan over medium-high heat with a tablespoon or so of olive oil. Dredge the fish pieces in the flour mixture till just coated. When the oil is hot, add them to the pan. Work in batches if necessary so that they don't overlap.

You forgot about the tomatoes, didn't you.

That's alright, check them now, they're probably just right-- disintegrated and a little caramelized. Take them out of the oven.
To serve, assemble fish, cabbage and tomatoes in a warmed tortilla. Or, if you wanted, in a small pan lightly coated in oil, melt a little bit of shredded cheese between two tortillas and built your taco in a mega,cheese-filled tortilla.

* Some notes on ingredients:
1. Plain Greek yogurt tastes a whole lot like sour cream, is the same texture/viscosity, has a lot less calories, and is actually really good for you (live cultures and what not). I keep a sour-cream sized tub of it in the fridge at all times: Its great for breakfast or a snack with honey (or jam or something else to sweeten it), it can be used as sour cream for Mexican or Indian, and is a great base for dips-- add taco seasoning for sweet potato fries, or chopped spinach and shallots for spinach dip.

2. If you don't know about Penzey's spices, you should. They run a primarily mail-order operation of herbs and spices that are high-quality, affordable, and specifically sourced-- they carry four different types of cinnamon! I extra-recommend a trip to one if their stores if you can swing it-- touching and smelling and exploring all those spices is a sensual bliss. (The nearest store in southeast Michigan is in Beverly Hills.)

3. I'm sure I've ranted about Aleppo before, but I have to do it again. I use it more than any other spice or seasoning. Its a soft, subtle, flavorful heat that is never overwhelming. I've only ever seen it at Penzey's though, so you should probably just go order some.

If you miss me

2010-01-14T19:39:00.001-08:00

Look for me here.
Student teaching doesn't allow for worded-frivolities.

Italian peasant pantry pasta

2009-09-11T09:25:00.000-07:00

In my opinion, being able to cook out of the pantry is an important skill, and one that I think is a tell-tale mark of a good home cook-- one must first know what to stock a pantry with, then, have the dedication to maintain it and the ingrained knowledge of flavors to use it successfully. To be absolutely clear, up there where I say "good," I do not mean adequate. I mean good in the thick sense, like the curves of a beanpot coddling a ham hock and cannellinis, or mothers' hips shaping out a skirt. Solid. Reliable. And good.
This post was supposed to be about wine. In fact, I have told at least three different people that my next post would be about three specific wines. I even dug the empty wine bottles out of the recycling and took pictures of them.
Indstead, I'm going to make a liar out of myself and tell you about the unexpected pantry pasta I made last night, entirely out of pantry items.

Despite my best efforts, summer is escaping.
This dish seems sort of timely, then, on-the-brink Italian peasant sort of food. I prepared this as four distinct elements that I then piled on a plate: pasta, eggplant, tomato-bean sauce and tuna. It was a nice presentation and I think cooking each bit separately, while a little time consuming, ultimately added to the complexity of the dish.

Peasant pasta with tuna
1 can yellow fin tuna
cooked pasta of your choosing-- I used TJ's basil garlic linguine
bread crumbs
Parmesan

For sauce:
olive oil
3 large cloves garlic pressed
5 ripe tomatoes,or about a can and a half canned in a large dice (drain canned ones; leave the seeds in fresh ones)
1 can drained and rinsed cannellini beans
~1/4 balsamic vinegar
~1/4 red wine
salt and pepper
a few good shakes of Aleppo

For eggplant:
one large eggplant, cut in to rounds
olive oil
salt, pepper, Aleppo

Method:

In your favorite saucing pot, cook garlic in a couple table spoons of oil, careful not to let it burn. Add tomatoes and simmer. Add beans and vinegar. Let it cook down a bit and add wine. Season with salt, pepper and allepo. keep over low- medium heat, replenishing liquids with additional splashes of wine and balsamic if it starts to cook off to much. The finished product should be thick like a stew and a deep red.

At the same-ish time, slice the eggplant thinly (1/4" ish). Lay flat on a baking sheet and drizzle with a slightly excessive amount of oil on both sides, then salt, pepper and Aleppo generously. Bake at 300-400 degrees, depending on how much time you have/how hungry you are.
Flip eggplant slices half way though. I left them for about 25 minutes at about 400.

When everything's about ready, drain and press as much water as possible out of the tuna, then sautee it in a small pan with a little olive oil until its starting to look a little crispy.

Serve in an artfully arranged pile in this order:

pasta---a few eggplant slices--bean sauce--tuna flakes--sprinkling of breadcrumbs---sprinkling of cheese.

I recommend smashing it all together a bit before eating, to get the full effect of texture and flavor.

farmshare: Notes for the Curious

2009-09-02T07:00:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes, I'm one of them; I have a farm share. It's terribly hip of me, I know, but I don't really feel bad about it: Its a pretty awesome concept-- who could say no?

For those unfamiliar, a CSA farmshare is basically like investing in a farmer. You give them money at the beginning of the year to fund the farm, they give you produce as it is harvested. Essentially, I paid $300 in May for a half bushel of produce every week.
This is not a new concept, but it is the first time I've done it. Now that we're over half way through the growing season, the share and I have gotten in to a rhythm, I think, and I've been compiling some notes on the topic.

1. Regardless of the cool-ness of the concept, this is not "special" food. Eat it. Now.
The first couple of weeks, I suffered from special/cool/new disorder-- you're familiar with it, I'm sure-- where I was hesitant to use my share except in the *perfect* recipe--suateeing just wasn't good or clever enough. It turns out though, that unlike your favorite party dress when you were eight, produce does not like to wait around on the shelf for adequately fancy occasions. In fact, very unlike your special-occasions outfit, it will wilt and rot in record time, fast than you really realized was possible, until you've made a hobby and/or drinking game out of swatting fruit flies. Produce is not something to get sentimental about.

2. Creativity takes on new meaning when you get 6 ears of corn a week for a month.
The biggest downside of the farmshare concept is that you don't get to choose what produce goes in your half bushel-- your limited to what your CSA grows, has in season and wants to allot you.
Such as 6 ears of corn a week for a month. To be clear, this is not at all the worst thing that's ever happened to me, just one that required a little creativity. Similarly, I haven't a clue what to do with celery herb (tastes like celery, looks like parsley-- I guess soup?) For as much fun as being presented with a box of fresh food is, it can take considerable efforts in the arenas of creativity and time. I know I'm not the fist person to say this; I had read all about the farmshare-oh-shit-phenomenon before I bought one. Its just one of those things that's hard to fully grasp without having experienced, like hair bands or roller coasters, I think.

3. Your pick-up day matters.
Overall, I do think it's a good investment, but next year I may look in to another farm that offers a more consistent variety of produce and will choose my pick-up day less arbitrarily-- right now it's on Tuesdays, which is problematic since I tend to work ten hour shifts on Tuesday and Wednesday, meaning I can't even think about starting to cook until Thursday, and by that point, things are starting to wilt.

Madison in parts: Street Food

2009-08-24T12:04:00.000-07:00

To a girl that grew up on a dirt road called Rustic lane, street food has always been foreign fodder contained in the pages of timelessly trashy teen novels about LA and movies my mom probably didn't want me to watch. For all practical purposes, street food was something that dragons and the tooth fairy ate while they were kickin' it in alternate-universe Mexico.
Even if you feel a bit less hyperbolic about food sold out of carts, I'd wager a guess that the phrase conjures images of tacos dripping grease and bursting hotdogs on wonderbread buns.

Well, I'm here to tell you that such veiws are becoming, well, wrong. The September 2009 issue of Bon Appetit declares "the art of the street cart" a "delicious dining revolution."
After my Friday afternoon encounter in Madison, I'm inclined to agree. Who knew?
We stumbled upon this diag-esque strip of brick at the end of State Street, tucked between an odd shaped Catholic Church and the University Library. Lining it were eight or ten street food carts, offering everything from smoothies to Indonesian fare. With four hungry adults to feed, we shopped around and then gathered back on the lawn of library square to share our findings.

Jason's choice was Hibachi steak. While they clearly win the award for best-dressed mini trailer, it wasn't all looks-- that hibachi steak was pretty good too, salty and tender, with a spicy sweet tang from the barbecue style sauce that topped it.

From the Indonesian cart, Kakilima, we chose a dish that was fried chicken and potatoes, served with a tangy sauce. The seasoning reminded us of the massaman chicken curry at Tuptim. It was served with a salad of pickled carrots and cucumbers-- the crunch and tang contrasted the softness of the rest of the dish nicely.

South of the border style food may seem like an unadventurous cop-out of a choice for street food-- unless your my dad, the quesadilla master. He can do things with beans and a tortilla that Napoleon Dynamite can't even imagine. The chicken quesadilla from Sabores Latinos cart didn't contain beans, but was otherwise a fine specimen of the trade, if a little messy.

Over all, we had a pretty stellar dining experience-- great variety, great flavor, and great price (about $5 a dish). According to 77 Square, "the definitive" Madison entertainment guide this is not quite concidence as "getting a spot, a good one, on the Mall requires enduring a process regulated by the city. Each September, a group of 20 judges reviews each cart and assigns a point rating based on physical aspects, food menus and variety." And while I'm sure we've all got a thing or two to say about government, this seems to be one thing Madison got absolutely right.

Madison in parts: The Dane County Farmer's Market

2009-08-17T09:02:00.000-07:00

Around here, we like our farmer's markets, I know. The Ann Arbor Market could pick a fight with almost any other market in southeast Michigan and win on sheer number of supporters alone. Ann Arbor farmer's market rolls deep, and for a good reason-- we have a great little producer-only market on our hands.

The Dane County Farmer's Market market is also Producer-only, but boasts over 300 vendors (for contrast, A2 has about 100) and is widely believed to be the largest producer-only market in the county.
It's mind boggling. It's farmer's market mecca. I'm serious. Its the only farmer' s market written up in that 1,000 Places to see Before you Die book (as far as I can tell from my very unempirical flipping through). It is the market.

It's held each Saturday around capitol square, which is the sidewalk that rings Madison's spectacular capitol building in the center of downtown.
It is a well established fact that foot traffic moves counter clockwise around the square-- not that you have much of a choice. By the the time we left at 11 am, the crowds were like art fair, or Huron's 6200 hall, or floor ticket at a concert. A concert full of veggie loving folk with a thing for cave aged Gouda and cheese curds.

Not to mention ostrich jerky and jam and snickerdoodles and hot and spicy cheese bread, which was still warm when we bought it, wispy like old fashioned school rolls, flecked with hot pepper flakes and greasy cheese pockets.

It definitely did not make it home with us.

Madison, in parts: The Tractors

2009-07-27T18:29:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, I went to Madison, Wisconsin with my family for the national meeting of International Harvester enthusiasts, aptly known as The Red Power Roundup (let me tell you, there's more to it than that damn Craig Morgan song).

While farm-implement shows may not seem like a steamy cup a tea to everybody, I find them pretty neat, and not just because the first thing I drove was a tractor. Much like a comic book convention or quilt show, this is a cultural experience, a microcosm of passionate individuals who never fail to exceed expectation and stereotype. Even when their thing is not my thing, I always enjoy the company of folks who love what they're doing.

There wasn't much in the way of food at the show though, not unless you count Kent's Big Bars, which are undeniably delicious homemade ice cream bars, and What My Family Made For Dinner each night, which also fell in the categories of ridiculous and delicious.

Madison, However, and It's crazy between-the-lakes, monster capitol squared in by one-way streets, bike-trails everywhere self had a lot to say on the subject. So, instead of giving you a novel on my trip to Madison, I will be writing about it in a series, a little trick I learned from trying to write one poem about ten different things. That poem wasn't very good, but I think these posts will be.

In the meantime, I'd like to show you a couple of pictures from the show, which I know, you're thinking I came here to see about food but I'd like to take this as a public service announcement opportunity and encourage you to think about where your food came from who grew it -- not just the pointedly local food you get at the market, but all of it-- and then, maybe, to share in some of the small joys of farmers, like using the same tractor your Grandpa bought new.

Farmall 1206 Turbos from the fifties and sixties.

International Harvester is just any ole tractor company; the founder, Cyrus McCormick, invented the horse drawn reaper that revolutionized the way the entire world farmed.

The Family Havanese, Asta, dressed for the occasion.

Our Truck, a 1966 Travelall, waiting to parade to the Wisconsin Historical Archives.

Me and Kent's Big Bar.

Art+beer= Fair

2009-07-27T18:28:00.001-07:00

If you want to read what I had to say about the Shadow Art Fair, you should look here.
It includes beer but mostly is about Shadow Art Fair, thus it is an Annarbor.com exclusive. Check it.

Old News

2009-07-09T12:24:00.000-07:00

When I am struck by long bouts of busy/ lazyness such as this, I always debate weather I should start back up with the thing i was going to post a month ago and never got around to, or if I should ignore what happened between my latest blog worthy experience and the last posted one.
Today I decided to give you news from June 1st anyway.
If you are just so over the Taste of Ann Arbor, well, then, I guess you should go read something else-- but maybe scroll down real quick and look at the pictures.

In case you missed it (or are just one of those sorts of people who like to have the same bedtime story read to them over and over again) Taste of Ann Arbor was a Sunday street festival that closed down Main street between William and Washington, borrowed the art fair booths and filled them with bite-sized tastes from local restaurants. In true festival/fair form, you bought tickets (see above) from a lady wearing a smock and sun visor and traded those for food.
Pictured with the tickets above is pulled pork from Connor O'Neill's, which certainly wasn't my first choice for either restaurant or food item. However, when you arrive half an hour or so before things shut down you can't really be choosy about what's left.

What you can do though, is get lucky: as we strolled around post pulled pork, a certain dessert caught my eye: Amadeus had one piece of iced apple torte left, which turned out to be exactly what I wanted. I have to imagine that the chilling was for outdoor food safety purposes and that indoors, it would be served warm, which would be fine-- adaptive, even-- because this was an apple masterpiece: tart and sweet, crunchy and soft with a hint of lemon. Apple perfection is no small honor around these parts: both Jason and my favorite pie is apple. He won't even let me bake him one he likes his mother's so much.

Jason got that piece of chocolate raspberry cake up there, which was soft and airy and moist and delicious, but it couldn't hold a birthday candle to that tart.

I'm getting off track. What I meant to tell you about-- or perhaps remind you about-- is Amadeus. Its not new or flashy or loud. It's menu doesn't contain wild caught rock shrimp with mango arugula chutney.
They do have kielbasa and pirogi though,and tradition and romance and old world charm a little like your grandfather, though their coffee is probably stronger than your grandfather would like it. You probably walk past it all the time, on your way to Arbor Brewing or Habana or the like. It's right there on Washington, dimly lit behind some curtains.
Next time, I recommend you poke your head in, at least for coffee and dessert, and just see if you can resist. I dare you.

This will be my last post before I *squeal* go "syndcated" and also post my blog at the Ann Arbor News' new online home, Annarbor.com, which goes live Friday, July 24th. Check me out there too, I may occasionally post non-food things over there in the Duce section. Woot. End Broadcast.

Bitters

2009-05-30T05:00:00.000-07:00

SO, I like the idea of cocktails. They seem sort of neat, and perhaps sophisticated, and at least a little more interesting than than my usual whiskey straight or, as previously mentioned, the occasional gin and tonic. But, you need stuff to make them. More precisely, you need little bits of stuff-- dashes and eighths of teaspoons for instance. I'm pretty sure that's why I generally avoid them; they seem like a nuisance. Like Gnats or fruit flies or lint.
Therefore, I'm perpetually secretly seeking an arsenal of mixed drink recipes-- ones that simply require pouring pours and mixing with ice via the lone sundae spoon that always ends up underneath the silverware tray some how.
And that, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, is how I ended up with a bottle of Campari. I would request conspiracy charges however, for the guy who wrote the "lazy bartender" blurb in last month's Bon Appetit that described Campari as the perfect summer cocktail when mixed simply with club soda.
Given such a glowing review, you can imagine my surprise when I wandered over to the Campari website and they described it as "the ultimate acquired taste"... should they be trying to sell the stuff? Honestly, how bad could it really be?
The reverse psychology worked. We ran out and bought a bottle.
Campari is neutral grain alcohol flavored with a secret blend of herbs and barks and bug shells (for color) that tastes approximately like the peel of a grapefruit: a lovely light citrus that is quickly replaced by the purest bitter imaginable, the sort of pureness that lands metals and gasses on the periodic table.
And people drink it. For fun. People like me, apparently, since Jason and I are now proud owners of a whole fifth of it.
Now, least Jason call me on it, I am being a bit hyperbolic. Or at least, he would think so, because he likes the stuff, cold, mixed with a little club soda.
I do not. There's a cocktail made out of this stuff, called a negroni, which adds sweet vermouth and gin, which I find palatable, but the best way I've discovered to drink it is in a light white wine, like cheap Vhino Verde, which is down right delicious.
And while the fifth was nearly $30, and near everyone I have handed it to thus far has made a face like a cat in the bathtub upon first sip, I'd say it's worth buying for a party if you never have. Just make sure you have a little sweeter white wine around, or even orange juice, and you just may acquire the taste.

Dominoes and Gin

2009-05-06T09:47:00.000-07:00

Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm back. I apologize for my extended absence, it wasn't all fun and games-- its was mostly papers and research (if you have a hankering to read 10 pages of analysis about Success For All Schools, or The Workshop in the Classroom, or Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, I could hook that up) with occasional fits of cooking and evenings running.

I tried my hand at blender-soup, for example, in my absence. You can see how well that went. It was a birthday present for my mother; broccoli with a lemon sour cream, and she liked what was left after I threw it all over my poor coffee pot.
I have been the family farm twice; once to soak in the late march sun with the last of the hay bales, and once to plants rows of root vegetables, which, as my mom pointed out, need the same amount of love, but less watering.
I've only had dinner on the deck three times, but I intend on changing that soon. And buying more charcoal.
I've had two evenings of gin and tonics and have gotten much better at dominoes, as well as BS, which everyone agrees reminds them of summer camp or middle school.

I understand that its out of season right now-- (along with white pumps, snow shovels and corn) but-- I've been hoarding.
Recipes, that is.
A dinner party, more specifically. I've slowly collected a mental dinner party for you.
I, of course, did not have a dinner party; I had finals. So, fair warning, I think this sounds great theoretically, but it could turn out to be like communism-- great on paper.
Anyhow, at the very least, I can vouch for deliciousness and simplicity separately, and highly recommend all of the following for any occasion.

Appetizers:
Fried Chickpeas
Cured things: garlic stuffed olives, salami, prosciutto, etc.
Carbohydrate: crackers, or toasty baguette pieces
A cheese you like; I like Gouda.
Fruit, as it is *almost* fruit season.

Salad, with baby greens and beets and feta and pecans and vinagrette

Baked Orzo with Shirmp

Rhubarb Custard Pie

So, chickpeas. In case you missed, I loooove chickpeas. This, however, is my favorite way to love chickpeas-- its more of a formula than a recipe though. Your going to need a can or two of chickpeas, one if its for you, two if its for sharing. Rise the chickpeas, in a colander or in the can, and then dry them out on paper towel.
In a good sized heavy pan, heat up a large glug of olive oil. Remember, your frying not sauteeing-- you want enough to make 'em greasy, but not so much that they're swimming.
Once the oil is hot, add your garbanzos. Ideally, you want them to brown and crust a little, and get sort of creamy on the inside. When you feel confident that this is happening (sneak one out of the pan if you need tangible proof), add about a teaspoon or so of smoked paprika, which come in a tin like this and can be found at Morgan and York, if I recall correctly, and generous salt and pepper. I recommend adding a little Aleppo pepper, which is an oily Syrian flake-- leave it out you have hot smoked paprika, though.
If you have no smoked paprika, you really really should get some, but regular ol' paprika will do in a pinch.
Ok, well, that's it. You're done. Put 'em in a pretty bowl with a spoon, and watch them disappear.

The rest of the appetizers and salad I think you can figure out on your own.
On to the largest Pyrex you own.

You're going to need it for the baked orzo. I followed the recipe pretty exactly (which I have shamelessly stolen from Gourmet), but would make a few changes next time-- I used a pound of jumbos, which was not enough; two would have been great. The recipe has you mix in the shrimp with the pasta, which makes them hard to find, and thus, hard to serve evenly. Next time I would fish 'em out of the sauce before mixing with the orzo and spread them over the top, under the cheese, before baking. I could also see grilling the shrimp and then throwing 'em on there, instead of cooking them in the sauce.
I'm sorry I didn't take any pictures, I should have as I had plenty of time-- Jason and I ate it for three days straight.

Ingredients

1 medium onion, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano, crumbled
1/4 teaspoon dried hot red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 (28- to 32-oz) can crushed tomatoes
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 lb large shrimp (about 36), shelled and deveined
1 lb orzo (rice-shaped pasta)
1/2 cup Kalamata or other brine-cured black olives, pitted and chopped
1 lb feta, patted dry and crumbled (3 cups)

Preparation

Preheat oven to 425°F.

Cook onion, garlic, oregano, and red pepper flakes in 1 tablespoon oil in a 4-quart heavy pot over moderately high heat, stirring, until onion is softened, about 3 minutes. Add wine and boil until reduced by half, about 3 minutes. Stir in tomatoes and salt, then reduce heat and simmer briskly, stirring frequently, until slightly thickened, about 8 minutes. Stir shrimp into sauce and simmer, stirring occasionally, until shrimp are just cooked through, about 3 minutes.

While sauce and shrimp are cooking, cook orzo in a 6-quart pot of boiling salted water until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup cooking water, then drain orzo in a sieve. Return orzo to pot and toss with remaining tablespoon oil. Stir in sauce with shrimp and reserved cooking water, then add olives and salt and pepper to taste.

Spoon half of pasta into an oiled 13- by 9- by 2-inch glass baking dish, then sprinkle with half of feta. Top with remaining pasta and feta, then bake in middle of oven, uncovered, until cheese is slightly melted and pasta is heated through, 10 to 15 minutes.

Rhubarb Custard Pie was not my idea. It was something my mom whipped up last Sunday after spending the day planting potatoes, and it was already in the fridge by the time I arrived for dinner. I must admit, when she first put my little slice in front of me, I was skeptical-- it was this funny pale green color that reminded me of a faded and yellowed fifties photograph. It turns out thats a fair assessment of this pie-- pale and calm and markedly old fashioned, except that it tastes a thousand times better than I could imagine anything else that color tasting. It's sweet and rhubarb-sour and thick, all in the right places.

Ingredients
4 cups medium diced rhubarb
1 ¾ cup sugar ( or even a little less)
¼ c flour
2 tbsp water
½ tsp salt

2 egg beaten
3 tbsp milk

grated nutmeg to tatse—teaspoon or so
1 tbsp butter

Top and bottom pie crust, prepared from the recipe of your choice

Method

In a pot big enough to hold it all, combine the first four ingredients and cook down over medium-ish heat for about 15 minutes.

meanwhile, make your crusts.

If you have time, let the rhubarb mixture cool. If you don't we'll go over that in a minute.

In a large bowl, combine the milk and eggs. If you cooled your rhubarb, whisk it all in. If you didn't, add the rhubarb a cup or so at a time so the dairy doesn't curdle. Add the nutmeg.

Arrange the bottom crust in a pie plate, and spoon your filling in. Cut off little chunks of the butter, and spread them evenly atop the filling. Roll out your top crust and affix it to the bottom one. Don't forget to cut steam holes and give it a little egg wash so it browns up nice.

Bake at 350 for 40-50 minutes, depending on your oven.

A weekend in the City

2009-02-25T22:51:00.001-08:00

In case you hadn't caught on, my boyfriend is pretty spectacular. For instance, my valentine's day gift was a hand painted mug (I love mugs. I have a genetic love of dishes from my mother) and today, he cleaned (!) my room (!) while I was at work because I spent the day moaning about how I hadn't gotten anything done, cleaning or otherwise, and he likes me. In addition to be amazing, his best friends have a beautiful apartment in Chicago, and have extended us an open invitation to their spare room.

So, far we have quickly destroyed it each time we visit and even hung our bath towels to dry on the edges of James' electric drums-- but James and Ariel have been very good sports.
So good in fact, that when I suggested we check out an underground supper club in town, they were not only agreeable, but excited. Chicago's version is called Clandestino, and the ring leader, Efrian, got his start with the much publicized Ghetto Gourmet interviewed in the first link. The dinner we attended was in the loft office of a mortgage company.
Well, everyone keeps asking, How was it?

It was cool. It was way cool. The vibe was awesome, the people were great, and the sense of community was visible. The food was delicious, meticulously planned and exuded soul and spirit. Menu was as follows:

Chips and 2 salsas
Flautas w/ lamb chorizo and potato
Spanish Mackerel ceviche, cured w/ lime and grapefruit
Chicken Tortilla Soup
Birria de Chivo, served in roasted poblano
Tres Leches Torte

The winners, in my opinion, were the chicken tortilla soup and the Birria, which is goat. The soup, especially, was subtle and salty and deep without being rich.

The goat though. It was my first goat-eating experience, and it was infinitely better than my over-all first goat experience, which occurred at the tender age of three at the Detroit Zoo when a goat snatched my zoo-map right out of my chubby hands and had the nerve to chew it apart it in front of me.
This goat course was sublime. It was sort of shredded, and stuffed in a pepper with a little rice and topped with a little cheese. It was tender but chewy, and I ate it quicker than I wanted to, because, well, I couldn't help it. It came with what seemed to be roasted root veggies and smear of some sort of barbecue-like sauce that, I swear, with the squash, was one of the best sauces I have tasted.

Afterward, we went to the Signature Room for a drink, which is the bar at the top of the Hancock building with spectacular, hard to photograph and easy to be awestruck by views. My scotch on the rocks was $13, and so was Ariel's amaretto and James' Bloody Mary, which was, coencidentally, too spicy to drink. It was nice though, and we were dressed for it.

On the way home, we had the cabbie take us to a liquor store and the boys went in and bought bought some beer while Ariel and I held the cab.
We may have gone to bed a little late, and may have woken up a little hungover. So in the early afternoon, we meandered through the radiant sunshine to ye old Zagat-rated corner breakfast spot, Nookie's.

It was so good I didn't even finish my eggs, and I love eggs over easy. The coffee was free and Jason had buckwheat pancakes and after, we took a train downtown and spent the afternoon in one of my very favorite places on earth (so far), the Art Institute of Chicago, which not only has some of my favorite Toulouse-Lautrec and Monet's haystacks, but American Gothic, which I find in even more surreal to be in the same room with than Surat's monster.

Did I mention that James recently graduated from the Chicago Le Cordon Bleu institute? Right.
So, Sunday James made us a fantastic pork tenderloin dinner that every bit reflected his formal education and love of food.

That night we played a make shift version of cranium and watched The King of Kong, which, was ridiculous and I recommend highly.

In the morning, Jason and I picked up a little bit and crept out, long after James had left for work at the fish market, while Ariel slept and Stan chased water around the bath tub.

Canada is just over there

2009-02-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

The time has come: It is truly, unmistakably, most dismally, winter. The holidays have past, the sun is sparse, and the few warmer days we do have are just a cruel set up for impending blizzards. (That's right Michigan, after 20 years I've figured you out).
It would be a great time for a California vacation, except that as I figure it, it would cost the entire contents of my checking account to get there.
However, for about $18 in travel expenses you can can still spend the afternoon tasting wine.

Pictures by the mamma

Though it's easy to overlook, Ontario is just right over there, and they have their very own guaranteed vintacultural region (like Italy's DOCG in theory). In a little over an hour, you can make it to Lake Erie's north shore region, which is packed full of wineries willing to give a free taste on a Sunday afternoon. The official winery route map shows six, and we stopped at least one that wasn't on the map. There are little grape signs everywhere once you get down there.

Jason, Me, and the daddy at Sprucewood Shores

If you need a mini vacation, this is what you need to do. I swear. You don't even need a passport. And if you take the tunnel, when you get out, there's a tourist information center where the lone lady manning the giant desk will pluck you a map and write directions on it upside down AND highlight your route.

No, not all the wine was amazing. Quite a bit of it was watery. (I'm willing to attribute this to the relatively cold growing season) But the merlot-cab at Colchester Ridge was excellent, and the Mastronardi cab franc was quite nice too. And, Windsor has quite a few nice restaurants that are remarkably cheap (we have been particularly impressed with Mezzo, though we researched quite a few others that looked nice-- they just didn't serve lunch.)

In short, it was a satisfying Sunday. We drove back to Windsor along the river as the sun was setting, and as it grow colder outside we relaxed in to the front seats and didn't even have to look at each other to know that this was good. When we got home, we fell asleep on the couch in a heap, waking up just in time for a round of scrabble before bed--
And if that's not vacation, I don't know what is.

2009-02-09T10:39:00.000-08:00

Weekends, for me, aren't quite the relaxing opportunity for doing all the thing that get pushed aside all week-- I work until midnight Friday and Saturday, which severely limits my ability to relax in general (if you've ever accidentally tried to go to Trader Joe's on a Saturday afternoon you'll understand why), not to mention my ability to do weekend-type food things, like cook or go out. As a result of this, if I don't have a solid plan and alarm set for Sunday, I am highly predisposed to accidentally sleep all day, and spend the early afternoon eating peanut butter and jelly on frozen waffles while drinking coffee and getting lost in the internet.

I am pleased to announce, however, that I did an excellent job of doing stuff this weekend.

Friday after work we headed out to Sidetrack's for post-work beer. While this really isn't anything unusual, I did want to mention that while Sidetrack's occasionally has the worst service of any restaurant in the Ypsi-Arbor area (it occasionally takes a strong combination of luck, persistence and a touch of bitchy-ness to get a waiter) they also have a great selections of beer on tap (such as Bell's hop slam currently) and the kitchen is open until 2am. Sidetrack's is know for their burgers, which are excellent, but my favorite is their wacky selection of bar-food appetizers-- particularly beer-battered and deep-fried pickles. If you've never had a deep-fried pickle, you really should, and Sidetrack's are far better than any others I've had. They also deep-fry battered artichoke hearts, and make a mean veggie slider. Click here for the menu-- also of note are the Irish egg rolls, which are just so grossly delicious.

On Saturday, Jason and I went to Morgan and York for lunch. M&Y do made to order sandwiches at the deli counter, and while they're giving Zingerman's competition for the most expensive sandwich in town ($10-11) Morgan and York's offerings are subtler, and more inventive. Last time we went, I had shredded beets and spicy ham, this time I went for Bresola and artichoke. What these sandwiches lack in size is easily made up for in flavor, not to mention that it just feels good to hold hands and slowly wander the shop while your sandwiches are made, reading bottles and chocolate bars and vinegar descriptions. Its a lovely way to spend part of a sunny Saturday afternoon before work. And, least I forget, they have this ridiculous Zucchini soup (its in the bowl up there) that's only $12 for a whole quart. The soup doesn't have any cream in it-- but it's creamy and thick and just a little bit spicy and comes with a little cup of mancheigo to sprinkle on it, and somehow, it feels very forgiving. It is a nice soup.
I will warn you though, that while you wander around and look at things in a way that's a cross between a kid in a candy shop and an afternoon at an art museum, you are likely to find something that is out of your budget that you convince yourself would be ok to try because it's Saturday, and the sun's out and you have a quart of forgiving soup waiting for you.
We ended up with a six-pack of Bell's hopslam.

There it is, hangin out on my windowsill.

a six pack of beer doesn't sound so bad, except that this particular six pack is $18.50. Yes, that 1 is supposed to be there. Hopslam is one of Bell's specialty beers, that is only available seasonally. Why is it so expensive? Well, part of it is that it's a seasonal specialty. The other part is that it's 10% abv. In our defense, we didn't notice the price tag until after it was rung up, and at that point, our gulit about putting it back overrode the gilt about spending $3 a beer.
Is it worth it?
Not really. Don't get me wrong, the stuff is good. Its brewed with honey, which gives it a light citrusy flavor and completely overrides the bitterness of the hops. I liked it a lot, and I do not like IPA's-- i'm a wheat beer girl. Not to mention that one bottle left me completely buzzed, a task that generally takes about two and a half. But, I don't drink to get drunk I drink to you know, enjoy, so the fact that it got me there twice as fast wasn't exactly a posetive.

Verdict: If someone like you enough to buy you one, go for it. I doubt you'll be disappointed. But it's not twice as good as the rest of Bell's beer, so I wouldn't reccomend spending twice as much on it.

What you're having for dinner

2009-01-21T09:31:00.000-08:00

you'll have to excuse the fact that I took that with my cell phone, because it is delicious. Now, perhaps you read my last post about the soso-pork "stew" I made for dinner last week. If you did, I'm sorry. Don't make it. I can't imagine why anyone would go through all the bother of making that one, when this one is so much more satisfying and so much quicker. Skeptical? This recipe has 120 positive reviews at epicurious. You can't go wrong-- its got all the makings for perfect-- slightly smoky from the ham, rich and tromato-y, with a lil tiny kick form the arugula. All inside 20 minutes.

Fast White Bean Stew

2 large garlic cloves, chopped
1/4 cup plus 1/2 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 (14- to 15-ounce) can stewed tomatoes ( I used diced)
1 3/4 cups reduced-sodium chicken broth
2 (19-ounce) cans cannellini beans, rinsed and drained (3 cups)
1 (1/2-pound) piece baked ham (1/2 to 3/4 inch thick), cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 (5-ounce) bag baby romaine or baby arugula (10 cups loosely packed)
8 (3/4-inch-thick) slices baguette

Preparation

Cook garlic in 1/4 cup oil in a 3 1/2- to 4 1/2-quart heavy pot over moderately high heat, stirring, until golden, 1 to 2 minutes. Coarsely cut up tomatoes in can with kitchen shears, then add (with juice) to garlic in oil. Stir in broth, beans, ham, and pepper and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, 5 minutes. Stir in greens and cook until wilted, 3 minutes for romaine or 1 minute for arugula.

While stew is simmering, preheat broiler. Put bread on a baking sheet and drizzle with remaining 1/2 tablespoon oil. Broil 3 to 4 inches from heat until golden, 1 to 1 1/2 minutes.

Serve stew with toasts.

Dear December,

2009-01-17T12:13:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry I've been gone so long. It's been nearly two months, I know. But I have a note from my mother. It reads:
Dear Bogosphere:
Please excuse alli for her lack luster blogging. She has been very busy sleeping on the couch,

putting her aunt's dog in her sister's purse,

and having her parent's over for dinner and feeding them chicken in Riesling, made entirely from Detroit farmer's market purchases.

Regards,
The Mamma

It's true. December was busy. But I wouldn't want to deprive you of my December cooking adventures simply because I am a solid mixture of lazy and overbooked. So.

First, I want to tell you about Maria's Grandma's scramble.

If you look carefully, you can see a big bag of it sitting in the corner there. I'd suggest you pop over to gastronomical three and read Maria's scramble story, as it's particularly lovely and warm and nostalgic. My story about it involves multiple very very slow drives around Ann Arbor to gather the necessary ingredients in lots of snow and even more traffic, which was warm, but not lovely or nostalgic.

Scramble

4-6 cups Cheerios or other multigrain “O” cereal

4-6 cups Wheat Chex

4-6 cups Rice Chex

4-6 cups thin pretzel sticks

2 lbs. mixed nuts

2 cups canola oil ( I used olive oil, because I ran out of canola and the idea of taking 45 minutes to make a 5 minute drive for the second time in a day was too much to bear. It was a noticeable change, as cereal soaked in olive oil tastes like olive oil, but it was a change I enjoyed immensely.)

1 T worchester sauce

1 T onion salt

1 T garlic salt

1 T celery seed ( I did not use celery seed, for the same reason I did not use canola oil)

Preheat oven to 200 degrees

Combine cereals, nuts and pretzels in a large roasting pan. Whisk together oil, worchester sauce and spices. Pour over dry ingredients and mix gently. Bake for two hours in the oven, stirring occasionally, until aromatic and crispy.

* * * * *

Summer Christmas Stew

What do you do with something that calls it self stew but contains 6 CUPS of chopped parsley? Well, first, you should read the entire recipe, particularly the bit that says "serves 12-14 as main course." If you don't, that's ok, you'll just have to eat pork soup for the rest of the week too.

Everyone who ate this thought they liked it. Which, is a pretty fair evaluation of it. See, it's not really stew at all, because it's not nearly thick enough. Also, there's relatively little seasoning, which isn't necessarily bland so much as soft. Then, there is 6 cups of parsley in it-- which makes it taste Clean. Clean like new converse and puppies after baths and your teeth after the dentist. What I'm trying to say is, while it's nice, it sort of unnatural clean. At least, for being soup in the middle of December's issue of Gourmet it is (it is festive looking however, what with the parsley and tomatoes). My mom is adamant that this turned out exactly the way it was intended, and while I don't doubt her, it was not at all what I had intended. (I'm so sorry; I apparently love italics today). So my fix? Cheese (parmesan or mozzarella) and lots of lemon juice at the end. It gives it the richness and kick it's lacking, and is much more pleasing. And while I maybe haven't done the best job of selling this, I'd love it if you tried it your self and told me what you thought.

Cannellini with Pork

NOTE: amounts included below are intened to serve 12-14. I'd reccomend halving.

2 pounds dried white beans, such as cannellini or Great Northern (4 3/4 cups), picked over and rinsed
5 pounds boneless pork shoulder, trimmed and cut into 1½-inch pieces
4 quarts water
2 Turkish bay leaves or 1 California
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 medium onions, chopped
3 tablespoons finely chopped garlic
4 teaspoons finely chopped rosemary
1 1/2 pounds cherry tomatoes, halved
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon sugar
6 cups flat-leaf parsley (from 3 bunches), very coarsely choppe

Preparation

Soak beans:
Combine beans with enough water to cover by 2 inches in a 4-to 5-quart pot. Bring to a boil and boil 2 minutes, then remove from heat and let stand, covered, while you cook the pork.

Cook pork while beans soak:
Bring pork and water (4 quarts) to a simmer in an 8-to 10-quart heavy pot. Skim any foam, then add bay leaves and oregano. Simmer, uncovered, 1 1/4 hours.

Cook beans and roast tomatoes
Drain beans and add to pork mixture along with onions, garlic, rosemary, and 1 tsp each of salt and pepper. Simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until beans are just tender, 35 to 45 minutes.

While beans simmer, preheat oven to 475°F with rack in upper third. Toss tomatoes with oil and spread out, cut sides up, in a large 4-sided sheet pan. Stir together sugar, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper and sprinkle over tomatoes. Roast until tomatoes begin to shrivel and caramelize on bottom, about 45 minutes.

Finish Stew:
When beans are tender, scoop out about 4 cups beans with a slotted spoon and coarsely mash.

Return mashed beans to stew along with tomatoes, parsley, and 1 teaspoon salt and simmer 3 minutes. Discard bay leaves and season stew with salt and pepper.

Stupid things I do (in the kitchen)

2008-11-15T11:54:00.000-08:00

The lovely ladies at G3 tagged me for this one. Without my usual fanfare because I would like to shower before I go to work:

5 stupid things I do in the Kitchen:

1. Cut bagels in my hand. With a super sharp, super huge jimmy-johns issue bread knife. I have yet to hurt myself, but I get nervous every time I do it. Which is probably a sign I should stop.

2.Store all my spices in an old gift bag on the dining room floor. I wish I had a good explanation for this, but I don't. My mom sent me home one day with a buncha spices in a bag, and instead of taking them out and making them a home, I just keep putting more spices in the bag. Its really impractical. Maybe over Christmas break I'll clear them a shelf, like I said I would the whole summer.

3. Waste Wine. Cover your ears dad. I suck at finishing bottles. While folks like doctors and mothers against drunk driving and puritans and my professors may appreciate this, I feel incredibly guilty pouring 4 day old bottles down the drain so I can open another one. Consequently, I've taken this as a chance to work my way through the $5 wine selection at Trader Joe's that people constantly ask me questions about and I constantly have to say "uh, actually I haven't had that bottle yet, how about this $8 one? "(in the land of two-buck-chuck, I often get looks usually reserved for the insane and inept when I suggest this) Side note, most of these cheapies have sucked, and my well-bred instincts to stick to bottles closer to $10 seems to be well founded. Score 2 for the drain, Alli, 0.

4. Completely forget about side dishes. I haven't been as bad about this lately because I haven't planned as intricate meals lately (thanks, college) but it was becoming a hallmark of mine over the summer. It'd go something like this: buy fish to grill, the workings for an involved marinade, sweet potatoes to grill with it and asparagus to steam because the looked good. Spend 15 minutes talking grill in to lighting, 20 minutes marinading fish, realize that grill is over-ready, put sweet potatoes on (after some unsuspecting friend was forced in to oiling, salting etc. because I'm so worked up about the fish) get fish on grill, hover, hover, hover, bring in fish and potatoes (which are slightly burned because its 10pm by now and I can't see the grill very well) get everything inside and realize I forgot about asparagus. They don't get prepared, because its late and we're hungry and said friend doesn't care about asparagus by now, and so they sit in my fridge for the next week until they turn in to something that would make a 5th grade boy giggle with delight. I do this alllll the time.

5. Sit on the Floor. I have no good explanation as to why I do this. I just like it. My kitchen is a little small (and dirty) for me to sit on its floor too regularly, but it's one of my favorite places to be at my parents. Especially if I have something to read (if I'm talking to people though, I prefer to sit on the counters. Which my mom has mysteriously stopped asking me not to do. Perhaps adult privilege?). Plus, then the dog usually comes and lays on my legs. And I can sit squarely in front of the heat vent under the sink and wedge my self between the cabinets. It's a very childish pleasure, I'll admit.

So the next step with these things is to tag some one else to answer the question. I'm suddenly realizing that I don't have very many blog friends. Or really, any at all. Except of course for the one, the only, the delightful Brian Tucker. I'll tag Hannah Pants too, even though the only blog she has is the one we have to do for class, and she probably doesn't even know this blog of mine exists, just the silly one where I answer prompts for class in the craziest way I can still hope for an A on my blog grade. Yes, that's right, I have a blog grade. And because I feel bad that this post was photograph-free, here's a great picture of Hannah and I dressed up for a class project. (I am an essay, and she is a writing style-guide super hero. Can't you tell?)

For the curious: Yes, this really is what 300 level writing courses are like. (The project, and ugly step child blog for that matter, are for English 328, Writing, Style, and Technology. )

The readers digest.

2008-11-12T22:36:00.000-08:00

I really hate to say this, but I think I already miss summer. I cross my heart and hope to die that I love winter, but, really, it's not here yet. And moreover, I think I miss summer because I miss having Time, with a capitol T. For example, I shouldn't be doing this right now because I have two past-due education papers open in word (don't worry too much, I got an extension on one, and the other has minimal "late fees" if you will, it's just the principle of it). I couldn't help it though, i feel negligent for having not updated in so damn long. So, a Monday over-view:

10/13 Jason and I had a spur of the moment date to Cafe Felix. Felix is my favorite restaurant downtown, hands down. I'm always happy there (its never the best food I have ever tasted, but I am always happy), and this night was no exception. We had four plates, two glasses of wine and a coffee for $62, which, really, who can complain? We sat outside and I wore a skirt and then went home and graded tests and we held hands and drank tea and I felt like a Real Adult.

10/20 We made braised onion pasta, ala Orangette ala James Beard. Basically, this is onions, in butter, simmered for about an hour, and then slightly caramelized. It has somehow mastered delicate and hearty all at once, and I reccomend it very very highly. On a related note, my dad made a version of the from The French Farmhouse Cookbook that called for the pasta to be boiled with a bay leaf and twelve (it was very specific about that) sprigs of thyme, which I would recommend. It added a bit a of depth that my version was lacking. You can find the recipe here, which, coincidentally, is where I stole this picture from. In fact, so far, all of the pictures in this post have been stolen. Forgive me.

10/27 We had sushi take out and trekked to Royal Oak to see Atmosphere. If intelligent rap/hip-hop sounds like a nice cup of tea, Atmosphere is one of my favorite brews and I would recommend him highly. In other news, this has nothing to do with food. His new album is called "If life gives you lemons, paint that shit gold," though, so I'll say this bit is about lemons.

on Election night (a Tuesday, I know, bear with me, it's more important than Monday), I raced home from work just in time for the polls to close in the west, and crack a bottle of my favorite champagne (its a super-dry German guy, called Schloss Biebrich.or something like that. The best part? $4.99 a bottle). We toasted and jumped up and down a little and kissed a little and cried a little during Obama's speech. And since, this seems to be a popular food blog topic, what we ate: a simple salad of baby romaine with feta, beets, pecans and vinaigrette; breaded chicken breasts; and spanakopita. I know, I know, with the random, but we were hungry, and that was what I could scrape out of the fridge for two. We had chocolate souffles after, and smiled in ecstatic disbelief.

...Which brings us up to the present. Here and now, I have too much homework, too much homework, and too much homework.
Never fear though, this Monday was still spectacular. Well, dinner was at least. I was tired, and racing against the clock to finish an essay about "the visual rhetoric" of comics. BUT, I had this for dinner:

perhaps even better, I had that for dinner AND sat on the couch while it was made, because it was made by this dashing young fellow that seems to be hanging around a lot lately:

That is the boyfriend, and Cheesy baked penne with cauliflower entirely of his own creation, with out me butting in at all. All I did was hand him last month's Bon Appetit and a shopping list (alright, so I grated some cheese, but that was just because I needed a frustration outlet). He was nervous. I knew better than that, he's been sous chef-ing for my needy ass long enough to be more than prepared, even from his "I don't really know how to cook" stand point. I won that one, because it was delicious. He nailed the recipe, likely even better than I would have because I'm impatient and mistrustful. Be warned, this is RICH. where rich is a nice way of saying fat. But it is good. If I were to change it:
1. more cauliflower. and I don't even really like cauliflower.
2. It could use a little kick. I thinking diced canned chilles?

Ingredients

1 1 1/2- to 1 3/4-pound head of cauliflower, cored, cut into 1-inch florets (more! cut the penne down some though if you're going to up the 'flower)
2 large heirloom tomatoes (all gone. used waxy store ones.)
5 tablespoons butter, divided
1/2 cup thinly sliced green onions
Coarse kosher salt
2 tablespoons all purpose flour
1 cup heavy whipping cream (AKA skim milk works fine)
3 cups coarsely grated Comté cheese (or half Gruyère and half Fontina; about 9 ounces), divided
3/4 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano, finely grated Parmesan cheese, divided
1 cup crème fraîche
1 tablespoon whole grain Dijon mustard
10 ounces penne (3 1/2 cups)
1 cup fresh breadcrumbs (from crustless French bread ground in processor) (or panko, I say)

Cook cauliflower in large pot of boiling salted water until crisp-tender, about 5 minutes. Using large sieve, transfer cauliflower to bowl. Add tomatoes to pot; cook 1 minute. Remove from water; peel and dice tomatoes. Reserve pot of water.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add cauliflower; sauté until beginning to brown, about 5 minutes. Add tomatoes and green onions. Cook 1 minute to blend flavors. Remove from heat. Season with coarse salt and pepper.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add flour and stir 2 minutes. Gradually whisk in cream. Cook until sauce thickens, whisking occasionally, about 4 minutes. Add 2 cups Comté cheese; whisk until melted and sauce is smooth. Whisk in 1/2 cup Parmesan, then crème fraîche and mustard. Season with salt and pepper. Remove from heat.

Return reserved pot of water to boil. Add pasta and cook until tender but still firm to bite, stirring occasionally. Drain; return pasta to same pot. Stir in cauliflower mixture and sauce.

Butter 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Spoon in half of pasta mixture; sprinkle with 1/2 cup Comté cheese. Top with remaining pasta mixture and 1/2 cup Comté cheese. Melt remaining 1 tablespoon butter in small skillet. Add breadcrumbs and toss to coat. Remove from heat; mix in 1/4 cup Parmesan. Sprinkle crumbs over pasta. DO AHEAD: Can be made 2 hours ahead. Let stand at room temperature.

Preheat oven to 350°F. Bake pasta uncovered until heated through and bubbling, about 35 minutes.

... So there you have it. A readers digest month of Mondays.

2008-11-04T21:40:00.000-08:00

but in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

2008-09-30T11:41:00.000-07:00

Maybe you're starting to notice that I really like Monday nights. It's defensible, I think. Monday is the only night of the week where I don't have to be anywhere. Don't get it confused. It not that I dislike those things that occupy every other night of the week, It's just that I like having one to myself where I make dinner when and if I please and eat it on my own couch with a glass a wine a book called something like Style: Toward Clarity and Grace and generally feel like a whole person. Yep, I may be the only one, but I love Monday.

So when I got home from school last night I settled in with a short-stack of Gourmets and Bon Apetit's and was all business. I even went straight to the recipe index. It was serious. In the end though, the recipe I settled on came off the wondrous epicurious. ( So did that picture, don't get too excited about it.) The recipe, Chicken in Riesling, was comfort food at it finest. That is to say, it contains all the usual suspects: chicken, potatoes, carrots and cream. But the kicker was, it wasn't bland! It was tasty of its own merit, not just because it reminded you of grandma and warm kitchens as a kid. Because, lets be honest: we like comfort food because it easy, its warm, and we know what we're getting. And this recipe? I anticipate it it getting even easier, as
I plan to make it often in the coming months.

Chicken in Riesling, from Gourmet with some changes

1 1.5 Lb package chicken thighs and one split chicken breast
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
4 medium leeks (white and pale green parts only), finely chopped (2 cups)
1.5 cups or so sliced cremini mushrooms (my addition)
2 tablespoons finely chopped shallot
4 medium carrots, halved diagonally (I used 2 hadfuls of baby carrots)
1 cup dry white wine (preferably Alsatian Riesling)(this is a story in and of it self, see below)
1 1/2 pound small (2-inch) red potatoes
2 tablespoons finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
1/2 cup crème fraîche or heavy cream
Fresh lemon juice to taste

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Pat chicken dry and sprinkle with 1 teaspoon salt and a rounded 3/4 teaspoon pepper. Heat oil with 1 tablespoon butter in a wide 3 1/2- to 5-quart heavy ovenproof pot over medium-high heat until foam subsides, then brown chicken in 2 batches, turning once, about 10 minutes total per batch. Transfer to a plate.

Meanwhile, wash leeks and pat dry.

Pour off fat from pot, then cook leeks, shallot,mushrooms, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in remaining 2 tablespoons butter, covered, over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until leeks are pale golden, 5 to 7 minutes. Add chicken, skin sides up, with any juices from plate, carrots, and wine and boil until liquid is reduced by half, 3 to 4 minutes. Cover pot and braise chicken in oven until cooked through, 20 to 25 minutes.

While chicken braises, peel potatoes (I like potato skins and hate peeling potatoes...it was fine), then generously cover with cold water in a 2- to 3-quart saucepan and add 1 1/2 teaspoons salt. Bring to a boil, then simmer until potatoes are just tender, about 15 minutes. Drain in a colander, then return to saucepan. Add parsley and shake to coat.

Stir crème fraîche into chicken mixture and season with salt, pepper, and lemon juice, then add potatoes.

....And then the roommate and boyfriend at it all. Or at least tried to. I claimed the left over though. (Gotta stand yr ground). The end.

PS story

So the wine. I got real excited when I saw this called for Alsatian Riesling because I somehow convinced myself that I order one at work that no one ever buys and this would give me the perfect opportunity to try it. I was...close, but, wrong. What I have is Alsace One, which a blend. Funny thing is, I bought it, opened it, cooked with it, drank some.... and it tasted like olives (I'm serious! olives! it wasn't bad. just...interesting .Check it out. No one ever buys it, you'd be doing me a favor too.). Only then did I realize that it wasn't a Riesling at all. Doh.

Disclaimer regarding post title: I have no idea what that means or what compelled my manager to run all over the store saying it, out of context, for the year or so he was in Ann Arbor. If you can see inside Kwinn's brain, lemme know.

the leeks.

2008-09-21T19:45:00.000-07:00

Its official. School is underway. I have half English classes and half how-to-be-a-teacher classes. I'm even taking a class on assessment! (Writing a test is harder than it looks, if these first few weeks are any indication). Monday night is still cooking night though, just no escaping that. So, for the first Monday night cooking of the semester, we got grandiose.

I realize that sorta looks like an combination pizza/omelette, but that's just due to my poor photographing (which was due to the fact that it was 11pm and I was too hungry to make it look good). This, my friends, was far more rich and delicious.

It all started, as it often does, with Miss Molly, aka orangette and her column in this month's Bon Appetit. She proselytizes about leeks. Now, I had never really thought twice about leeks but I was sold-- on the vegetable, on Belgium, and on both the recipes included at the end, one for leek confit and one for Flamiche Aux Poireaux (Belgian leek tart with aged goat cheese)(which my dashboard translator translates as "Cake of leeks With Leeks". Either way).

So, I go to the farmers market that Saturday morning (in the rain, nonetheless. It was, actually, packed and delightful) and lo and behold, one woman on the end has leeks that I pluck from the pile and pack in my bag between the raspberries, new potatoes, and apples from my childhood bus route. I left the farmers market with that satisfied comfort that some find in church and children find in chocolate milk.

The tart calls for a cup and a half of the first recipe, leek confit. So, I figure I'll make the confit, take it to the parents Sunday night as a surprise appetizer, and use the rest in the tart the next day.

Monday, I was forced to the grocery store to buy more leeks, because my family demolished every last speck of the confit. Scouts honor, it really really is that good. My roommate ate it out of the pan with his fingers while I was trying to make the tart, and scoffed at me for wanting to adulterate it with crackers when I suggested he not use his fingers.

The tart recipe calls for aged goat cheese (which I didn't know existed) which I went to Morgan and York for. The recipe recommends a specific one, which I was not smart enough to bring the name of in to the store with me, so instead I bought one that was a small, hard little round that started with a 'c' and was $7. The stuff was super pungent but perfect, particularly on crackers with the confit.

Molly's Leek recipes, from Bon Appetit.

Leek confit

1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
4 large leeks (white and pale green parts only), halved lengthwise, cut crosswise into 1/4-inch-thick slices (about 5 cups)
2 tablespoons water
1/2 teaspoon salt

Melt butter in large pot over medium-low heat. Add leeks; stir to coat. Stir in water and salt. Cover pot; reduce heat to low. Cook until leeks are tender, stirring often, about 25 minutes. Uncover and cook to evaporate excess water, 2 to 3 minutes. Serve warm. DO AHEAD: Can be made 1 week ahead. Keep chilled. Rewarm before using.

Leek tart

Fair warning alert-- crust needs 2 hours in fridge. Do not start this a 6pm if you want it for dinner, unless, like me, you don't really mind eating after 10.

Crust:

4 tablespoons (or more) ice water
3/4 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
1 1/2 cups unbleached all purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) plus 1 tablespoon chilled unsalted butter

Filling:

1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup crumbled aged goat cheese (such as Bûcheron), rind trimmed I used the little goat round I bought and about half a small log of fresh goat cheese.
1 1/2 cups Leek Confit

Crust:
Combine 4 tablespoons ice water and cider vinegar in small bowl. Blend flour and salt in processor. Add butter and cut in using on/off turns until mixture resembles coarse meal. With machine running, slowly add water-vinegar mixture, processing until moist clumps form. If dough seems dry, add ice water by teaspoonfuls.

Gather dough into ball; flatten into disk. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate at least 2 hours. DO AHEAD: Can be made 3 days ahead. Keep refrigerated. Allow dough to soften slightly at room temperature before rolling out.

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 375°F. Roll dough out on lightly floured work surface to 12-inch round. Transfer to 9-inch-diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Press dough onto bottom and up sides. Fold in overhang and press to extend dough 1/2 inch above sides of pan. Line pan with foil and dried beans or pie weights. Bake until dough looks dry and set, about 30 minutes. Remove foil and beans and continue to bake until crust is pale golden, 20 to 25 minutes longer. Remove from oven and cool while preparing filling. Note: I found the bake time on this to be waaaay to long. My crust was almost burned, and I took it out early. I would say that about a 10-15 minute pre-bake should be more than sufficient, and then to watch every five minutes for golden-ness.

Filling:
Whisk milk, cream, egg, egg yolk, and salt in medium bowl to blend. Sprinkle 1/4 cup cheese over bottom of warm crust; spread leek confit over and sprinkle with remaining cheese. Pour milk mixture over. Bake until filling has puffed, is golden in spots, and center looks set, 35 to 40 minutes. Transfer to rack; cool slightly. Remove pan sides. Serve warm or at room temperature.

And if that is not a perfectly decadent way to start off the school year, I don't know what is.

My super sweet dinner

2008-08-15T14:18:00.001-07:00

Was delicious. That's mango-chicken sausage (sounds, how you might say with disdain, "interesting", but really, it is good. I was a skeptic myself, but it was the demo at work for all of fourth of July weekend, and one can only avoid the demo for so long... I became a believer) with sweet and hot mustard, the left over chickpea-beet-mess from last night, fresh ear of sweet corn, and a bottle of Tj's Bavarian Hefeweizen.
Two things I need to tell you about:
1. In case you don't drive down Packard in to Ypsi almost every day like I do, in the past week or so, a farm stand has popped up on the corner of Packard and Boston, between Hewitt and Golfside. It is a bizarre place for it, but I was pretty excited about it, A, because its real produce, and B, because working midnight shifts rarely allows for me to get up in time to get to the market, and these guys are there all afternoon. I finally remembered to stop today, on my way home from reading MFK Fisher's The Gastronomical Me (don't even get me started on her, she's another post in and of herself) at the lake all afternoon. Now I'm super excited about it, because the produce is obviously fresh, and real and you can tell, AND, I got 2 tomatoes, 2 yellow squash, 2 Zucchini, and an ear of corn for $4. That ear of corn was fresh, and juicy (yes! juicy!) and sweet, so sweet like a Michigan sunset through the trees, that is to say, exactly the way it should be.

2. The other thing I think you should know is that Trader Joe's beer is delicious. Now, I realize that I must sound like I'm paid to endorse TJ's products, but, I'm not. ( I wish). In fact, just to set the record straight, there a quite a few products I really don't like at all, outstanding among them: Green tea Mints (taste like chalk); Identity Crisis Chips (yes, thats really what they're called) which have a clearly moronic name and taste, well, confused and bland. I will not try and sell you a bottle of Charles Shaw, our cranberry tea tastes like your grandmother's prized perfume, and all of our pre-cooked meat is either dry or over salted or both.
Now then.
All of Trader Joe's brand beer is $5.99 a six pack. Other beer that I like is at least $8 (Bells, Dark Horse, Unibroue, Red Stripe, Blue Moon) (Oh, I guess I like PBR too. But I think Pabst can have its own category, as much as I love it, its more of a large cold shot than "beer".) Anyhow, its not just that they're cheap. It that they're really really good. I would recommend a lot of them-- Fat Weasel, BrouCzech Dark, Trader Jose's, but, when it comes right down to it, my favorite, by far is the Bavarian Hefeweizen. If you're not really sure what hefeweizen is, start here, because ours is one of the best I've had (I love Corner Brewery-- their Hef sucks.) A hefeweizen is a wheat beer, like Oberon, and thus often considered a summer beer (though I buy it all year round). The best I can do is to say that it's like Oberon, but more complex. As is traditional for Hef's, it has notes of not only citrus, but banana and clove, and all this without being sweet at all--Just light, fruity and delightful. And, while it can be intimidating to try beers you've never heard of with silly names (fat weasel? Jumping cow? Trader Jose's? What?) there's really no need to fret, because Trader Joe's lets you buy all beer by the bottle (make yr own sixer!) so you really have no excuse.

Produce and beer. So now you know.

2008-08-14T23:42:00.000-07:00

So... I am so aware my last post was, like, maybe two hours ago. BUT. I got hungry. that casserole, that was hours ago, and before my soccer game. So, despite the fact that it's late enough at night to be morning, I'm hungry. I have a small craving for prosciutto. Aww, I'll spare you the gory train-of-thought details. this is what happened:

1 can chickpeas
a few strips of Abraham smoked prosciutto, diced-ish and separated
3 baby beets, roasted (in case you don't have fresh ones, Tj's has vacuum packed precooked ones in produce)
A couple tbsp crumbled Israeli feta

Drain, rinse, and dry the chickpeas. Sautee in a medium-hot pan (in olive oil. do i need to say that? not sure) until they start to crust. Salt and pepper gratuitously. Sneak at least three of them out of the pan, minding your fingers, and marvel at how creamy and melty a bean can be. Regain your senses, dice the beets and add to chickpeas. Warm them, but don't let them crust. Meanwhile, fight to separate the layers of prosciutto, and when you get too frustrated, start throwing it in in small hunks. Once everything is warm and coated, turn off the heat and crumble a good hunk of feta in the pan, tossing once or twice so everything gets a fair chance.

I know this is simple. I know it requires no herbs, no garlic and no spice. But I beg of you, just do it. The contrast in the simple textures and flavors... trust me on this one.
I am totally going to sleep now.

Thanks for listening.

oh, and p.s.-- I could see this being disappointing if you didn't use smoked prosciutto and super creamy feta packed in liquid. Fair warning.

I forgot Casserole was a food until tonight.

2008-08-14T22:15:00.000-07:00

[Those are my morning glories. Not edible, but pretty.]

My dear over-vegetable-ed friends:
Went to the parents for dinner tonight. I arrived to my mom cursing at the rice cooker to work faster, THE big silver bowl (does everyone have one of these? the giant, silver bowl that is distinct, and almost exclusively used for mixing large quantities?) full of lightly sauteed veggies and Prosciutto on the counter and a shattered casserole dish on the floor.
Now, after a life time with my mom, I can usually walk in to a cooking situation and more or less deduce what's for dinner. Today, however, I was completely stumped. With a look of despair I had to ask just what the hell was going on here. The answer? The casserole dish had slid right out of the lazy Susan and shattered thin porcelain shaving all over the floor. Caserole. She was making a casserole, and I would have never guessed it. I forgot completely that casserole is a food, and that it doesn't have to contain canned tuna.
In case you were thinking of turning up your nose at the idea of a thing called casserole: this was delicious, easy way to use many veggies at once, with no tuna or Velveeta in sight.
I have been inspired. I see many a lovely vegetable casserole in my future, how about you? I will bother my mother for some form of recipe in the morning, I promise, but, I'm also pretty sure you don't need one. Rice, precooked veggies, perhaps some shredded chicken? maybe a little cheese? Don't forget breadcrumbs on top. Imperative. Oh, and don't drop the casserole dish.

What I did on my summer vacation.

2008-07-20T08:43:00.000-07:00

Each summer my parents close up their shop for a week, pick an attraction within a 12 hour drive, and pack up the airstream. Then Amelia and I climb in the backseat of the Travelall, promptly fall asleep, and we go. This year we went to New Hampshire. Some things you should know about traveling with my family: 1. eating well is a focal point of every trip, and my mom makes it happen. 2. Camping with my family is more akin to going on a roadtrip. The campground is merely a nice place to relax at the end of the day; or, depending on the park, a nice place to explore for the day. My family gives road food a whole new meaning. So, I thought you might be interested in some highlights.

Hampton Beach, New Hampshire is like no place I have ever experienced before. It is exactly how I imagine coney island: people and cars everywhere; a boardwalk with a zillion tacky tee-shirt shops selling shot glasses and fake jewelry; arcades, mini golf and "shooting" ranges. It's amazing. We stayed at a state park campground a short walk outside of town. When we checked in, the woman told us in a thick east coast drawl that if we bought three looobstas from the shack across the street, they'd cook 'em right up for us. We didn't need much prompting. We had an outrageous lunch of a lobster each, a bag of steamers, and chardonnay.
We were, in fact, so enamored with our lunchtime seafood experience that we went back for more when dinner rolled around.

This time the bounty was fresh-caught scallops. They were nonchalantly packed in the sort of plastic tub that you buy pre-made pasta salad in from the local grocery store, but the contents were anything but pre-packaged grocery store. My mom cooked them in butter and white wine outside in the wind while my sister and I hid inside the airstream reading. They were buttery and practically melted in your mouth, which seemed near miraculous given their enormity. Afterwards, we all drifted off in a chardonnay and scallop coma, and listened to James Taylor.

The next morning, we were off, headed north. Things to know about my mother: she has an affinity for dishes, travel books, and thrift stores. In this particular instance, her love for travel books came in handy, as she stumbled upon a bit about the oldest operational farm in the country, and it was, lo and behold, a mere 15 minutes out of our way. Who can say no to a farm thats been around since 1632? Okay, so we didn't visit the farm exactly, we visited the farm's store, which was a quirky mix a wonderfully fresh produce, organic staple items, local chesses and delightful pre-made sandwiches. I think we spent a solid $100 in there. It was neat.

Imagine, lettuce from somewhere that has been growing it for the past 376 years. It was amazing. We decided to be purist about the lettuce, serving it as simple salads with cracked pepper and a little vinaigrette.
I realize we're working on the longest post ever here, but at least there are lots of pictures, right? Anyhow, it was a whole week.

While many of you may consider something like pancakes to be a traditional camp-breakfast, somewhere along the line the traditional breakfast while in the woods morphed from pancakes to Huevos rancheros.

Surprisingly little work for a very impressive looking breakfast. Serve with red wine, and embrace the decadence. You're on vacation, after all. And, if your not, theres no harm in pretending.

Mamma's Heuvos Rancheros with Refried beans
(serves four)

Ranchero Sauce

About 5 large tomatoes, in season , diced
or 2 large cans tomatoes, such as Muir Organic (Fireroasted would be nice) tomatoes
1 medium onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
1 green bell pepper, diced
1 jalapeno pepper (optional) diced
½ lime, squeezed
Salt, pepper
Dried oregano, parsley, basil-about 1 tsp or to taste
Fresh Basil and Cilantro, (if available and to taste, if desired)-cilantro chopped & basil in a chiffonade

4 large eggs (or 8 if desired)

8 corn tortillas

½ to ¾ c shredded Mexican “mixed” cheese (cheddar, jack, etc) or Chihuahua cheese

Sour Cream

Guacamole (your favorite recipe, made previously)

Refried beans (your favorite recipe, made previously or canned)

Olive oil

Directions

In 2” deep sauté pan, lightly cover bottom of pan with oil. Sauté onions, pepper(s), and garlic until onions are translucent and peppers are soft and garlic is cooked but not brown. Add fresh or canned tomatoes (and juice from can). Add salt, pepper, dried herbs and lime juice. Cook on medium heat about 15 minutes, or more, to let flavors meld. Add fresh herbs, if using, near the end of cooking.

To poach eggs, gently break egg into tomato mixture, starting at one point and adding eggs around the edge of the pan. Cover with lid. Depending upon size of pan and the number of eggs used, the eggs will spread to fill the space in the pan. (Eggs will absorb tomato mixture while cooking and will reduce the mixture geatly. Therefore, make sure you have enough “broth” before adding eggs. If necessary, could increase tomato/herb mixture to have more liquid for the eggs.)

Cook the eggs in the ranchero sauce to desired doneness.

While ranchero sauce is cooking, heat refried beans. Top with shredded cheese. Keep warm.

Right before serving, take two corn tortillas at one time to make “sandwich”. Sprinkle outside of tortilla with sea salt. Sprinkle one tortilla lightly with cheese. Top with other tortilla. Heat small sauté pan with small amount of olive oil. Put tortilla “pair” in oil. Sauté side one until lightly crisp. Gently flip to other side. Continue with remaining tortilla pairs until complete. Keep warm.

When eggs have poached to desired doneness, take one tortilla “sandwich”. Use slotted spoon to remove egg ( one egg or two per person, depending upon appetite) and put on tortilla. Top with tomato ranchero sauce. Top with sour cream, guacamole and a chiffonade of basil for decoration.

Serve with refried beans, and a nice cabernet J

I swear, I'm almost done. SO, Friday we started driving home. As we descend from the mountains, it seems to be growing exponentially hotter. We pass one of those bank flashy-thermometer signs and realize, that indeed, it has grown exponentially hotter--well above ninety. So just as we're all are getting stuck to the vinyl on the seats and the sweat beads begin to drip off our eyebrows, the Top of the Hill Grill appears like a mirage.

Our 45 foot rig isn't fitting in their tiny lot though, so we park down the road and hike in, resembling walking human sprinklers. We're starving. The menu is scattered across the front of the building, an item to a plate. Super cool, super hard to take in all at once.

I order brisket, because its easy and its meaty and pretty quintessential BBQ food. In the meantime, dad and I hustle back to the trailer to grab a couple beers for lunch, because states that aren't Michigan let you bring in your own booze and thats sweet. They also gave us a playing card to identify when our order was up, and I appreciated that.

The brisket was delicious. It wasn't slathered in sauce, as you can see, and it really didn't need to be. It was moist enough, and smoky, and the roll was chewy. The beer was cold. I was a good lunch. We even took a pound of the stuff with us, and ate it straight out the ziplock baggie for dinner with killer garlic bread and fresh pickles. And it was good.

2008-07-02T09:06:00.000-07:00

Check that lushness. Apparently, 5 green thumbs work way better than one. I'd like to take this opportunity to A, thank everyone who lives in Ypsi for watering, and B. remind everyone that but 6 short weeks ago, that looked like this:

pride is a word for it. Excitement is another. Monday, I picked my first share of the harvest. A bunch of arugula, a single zucchini, and some dill.

We grilled the Zucchini, thinly sliced and rubbed with tarragon and olive oil. It was sweet and a little sultry as it stuck between your teeth.
The arugula I put in a pasta that is barely worth mentioning, and the dill is sitting on my counter top eagerly awaiting cucumbers.
I suppose this wasn't a very exciting post, or very useful, but, I was so proud I just had to share.

She's a keeper.

2008-06-18T08:57:00.000-07:00

So, I realize that looks like a lot of dirt and a few sad, stringy plants. But, you're wrong. Well, sort of. It is a lot of dirt, and the plants are sort of stringy yet, but they are certainly not sad. My backyard is coming along beautifully, and quickly thanks to all the rain. I think lushness will ensue soon.

Anyhow, I came to tell you about orzo, everyone's favorite rice-shaped pasta. It is excellent for a fast tasty lunch or versatile side, particularly when its 95 degrees outside, and you don't even want to think about what the temperature is in the kitchen. Granted, I can't quite remember what that hot is like, because I've been wearing pants to combat the 65 and windy past two days. Oh Michigan, what will we do with you?

Orzo a la Alli-Mamma

2 cups chicken broth
1 cup orzo
half a lemon to juice
2-3 tbsp capers
handful shredded Parmesan or crumbled feta
other things you think sound delicious in here: most recently, steamed broccoli

Boil the chicken broth, and add the pasta. You're going to cook it like rice; its done when the liquid is absorbed. Make sure to turn the heat down enough that you don't scorch the bottom layer of orzo. No need for socarrat here.

while thats absorbing, sautee/steam whatever else you're adding.

When the liquid is gone, stir in remaining ingredients.

et voila. The lemon and the capers do something wonderful together, and the feta adds a very nice creamyness. Its even good cold, though, given that today's high is 65, maybe you should eat it warm.

The very best thing you could possibly do with sundried tomatoes.

2008-06-15T21:52:00.000-07:00

So, an anonymous donor gifted me lamb chops. This, my friends, was exciting, as I am far to cheap to ever purchase them my self. Of course, all I could think to do with them was grill. Which seemed like it would be delicious. But, instead, I figured I should at least take a gander around epicurious and the cookbooks, just in case. It was, to say the least, an excellent call. This, I'm pretty sure is the best thing one could possibly do with sun-dried tomatoes. It was awesome spread over my over-cooked chops, and perhaps even better on crackers, bread, sandwiches and pretzels. I would have taken a picture but I ate it all. I kept it in an old tapenade jar which was perfect. so perfect, in fact, that it would make a pretty cool housewarming gift.

Sun-dried Tomato Butter

1 garlic clove
1/4 cup chopped sun-dried tomatoes packed in oil, drained
1/2 cup walnuts
1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1 tablespoon chopped flat-leaf parsley
1/2 stick unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

Mince and mash garlic to a paste with 1/4 teaspoon salt. Transfer paste to a food processor and pulse with sun-dried tomatoes, walnuts, coriander, cayenne, parsley, and 1/8 teaspoon black pepper until finely chopped. Blend in butter and lemon juice, then season with salt. Then swoon, and spread atop everything.

An over-due update

2008-06-04T22:05:00.000-07:00

I realize its been far far too long since my last post. I'm not quite ashamed to admit that this is because I have not been cooking. Or drinking wine. Instead, I have been gardening my butt off, and melting in to large glasses of beer afterwards. It's the season for it after all.
Even still, Sunday night is still go-to-the-parents night and Monday night is still make dinner with Cj night. So, I'd like to tell you about that. Oh, and about radishes.

Eons ago (like, a whole month), I found this recipe for plum and port tart lurking in the back of the cherry pie issue of Bon Appétit. I became very excited about it. So, I added plums to my dinner shopping list and vroomed away in my little red car dreaming of plum tart. Well, as it turned out, plums were not yet in season, and likely still aren't. But, I had a need. I even asked the whole foods produce guy for them twice in the same week. And he remembered, and gave me a look. Then, one day, I was passing through Meijers produce section, on my way to their super cheap arugula ($1.5o for a huge organic bunch!) when, lo and behold, there were plums. They were clearly still out of season, but I bought six of them anyhow, and took them to my parents with me on Sunday for dessert.
As it turned out, the plums really were out of season, and, thus, less delicious. The real winners here were the cheap, 10 year port, and the...sigh.... *frozen* pie crust. I would be very very ashamed to admit that I used pre-made crust, if , well, it wasn't just so damn good. Thats right, it was outstanding. Perhaps even better than my crust. (I know, I know). You can find it in the frozen section of your local Trader Joe's. It's honestly made with real butter. (aw geez, if I keep this up, I may end up with a job writing the fearless flier. sorry.)

The verdict here? cook the plums in the port-sauce. This may seem rather obvious, but my nervous habit of following recipes stopped me from doing it. But four out of four Bondies agree: cook the plums in the port first, then put the whole mess in the pie crust and bake.

Rustic Plum and Port Tart, as modified from Bon Appétit

2 cups tawny Port
1/2 cup (packed) plus 1 tablespoon golden brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1 1/2 pounds plums (5 to 6 medium), halved, pitted, each half quartered
1 tablespoon all purpose flour
1 refrigerated pie crust (half of 15-ounce package)
Vanilla ice cream

Preheat oven to 375°F. Boil Port, 1/2 cup brown sugar, and allspice in large skillet until reduced to 2/3 cup, about 10 minutes. Add plums to port pot. Cook until softer, so that the plums take in some of that syrup-y goodness.

Unroll cold pie crust onto parchment-lined baking sheet. Sprinkle the flour evenly on the crust to sop up extra liquid while baking. Spoon plums into center of crust, leaving 1 1/2-inch border;Reserve remaining syrup. Fold crust edges over plums. Brush crust with water; sprinkle crust and plums with remaining 1 tablespoon brown sugar.

Bake tart until crust is golden and syrup is bubbling, about 45 minutes. Cut warm or room-temperature tart into wedges. Serve with scoop of vanilla ice cream, drizzling additional syrup over.

And then there was Monday.
I bought some tuna steaks on a whim. It was a "oh-snap-there's-no-food-in-the-house" whim that occured at 9:05 during employee shopping. What do you do with tuna steaks?
Make Niçoise salad of course.

The French are genius. In case you hadn't figured that one out yet. The key to this dish is to A. grill everything, and B. Use the salad dressing. Moreover, what I'm getting at here is you MUST put the anchovies in the dressing. MUST. no substitutes, no middle-school qualms about small fish in a can, no looking for low-sodium alternatives.

Mamma's Niçoise Salad
Serves 4

2 large tuna steaks, cut in half
green beans
4 hard boiled eggs
Baby potatoes, halved
asparagus
Scallions
(other seasonal veggies, as you wish)
Niçoise olives
capers
baby lettuce greens of your choice

Dressing:
1 clove garlic, pressed
2 tbsp Dijon Mustard
1/2-1 lemon, juiced
1/2 or so Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1/2-1 can anchovies
pepper
(put it all in a food processor or blender, and grind it up reeeal nice. c'est fin.)

First, start the charcoal. (gas will not cut it. As far as I'm concerned, if you're going to use a gas grill, you may as well go back inside and use the stove).
When fire is hot, start potatoes, as they will take the longest to cook. Brush them with olive oil and salt and pepper, and put them around the permiter of the grill so they get good heat but don't burn. Turn them occasionally, so that all the sides develop this wonderful crunchy crust.
When the potatoes are half way there, put on the fish, brushed with olive oil, and salt pepper and garlic too, if you like. While cooking fish, hard boil eggs. Prepare veggies by washing and trimming as needed. Dry. spray/drizzle/lightly coat with olive oil, salt and pepper. Grill, carefully, as to not sacrifice too many green beans to the coals. The veggies should only take a few minutes, and should still be relatively crunchy when you're done with them.
When everything is done grilling, assemble salads; sprinkling olives, capers and sliced eggs on top.
Serve with the dressing.

Cj pointed out that the real beauty of this dish is that every bite is different. I pointed out that grilling really changes the flavors of the veggies, and also that grilled potatoes are my favorite thing ever. We both sighed in to our glasses of rose, which, by the way, is the reccomened wine pairing-- a nice, French rose. We had Parallel 45.

As a note, if you somehow end up with extra dressing because you made a ton because its the tastiest stuff ever like I did, make sure you put the left overs in the fridge. It is most imperative-- raw garlic and olive oil, when combined and not refrigerated, breed botulism. ew.
BUT, left over dressing makes a great sandwich spread, and easily replaces both mustard and mayo.

Oh and radishes. I don't have a whole ton to say about them, except that I hated 'em when I was a kid and now, as of last week, I really really love them. If you are a doubter, as I once was, you must try this: you'll need of course, radishes ( trader Joe's has adorable little trimmed packages of them for 79¢ (!), but also butter (the nicest you got, at a spreadable temp) and nice sea salt and some sort of delivery carb-- vinta crackers or a chewy piece of baguette. Take said carb, spread with a little bit of butter, add a slice or two of radish, and sprinkle with sea salt. I dare you to tell me its not heaven. ( a bit of experimenting led me to radishes and brie.... *swoon*)

An adventure which will someday be culinary.

2008-05-17T11:52:00.000-07:00

It's good to come home dirty, I believe.
I've spent the last two days in the frog island community gardens, building raised beds out of old logs and concrete and then filling them with dirt. (I'm sure I will sleep well tonight). I figure this is relevant, seeing as how one day, it will produce food, which, I'm sure, I'll tell you all about.
Not to mention this sort of thing is why I love Ypsi. Its a good place, despite it's ugly stepsister reputation. I never much liked Cinderella anyhow. So with out further ado, a photo essay.

This is where we started Friday afternoon.

Kyle and Chris diligently drilled holes with a chainsaw and pounded
rebar in to the ground to make walls.

I stacked the cracked cement. We made progress.

Saturday, the dirt needed moving. And, boy, was there a lot of it.

ready to plant!

And, now, I am so damn sore that all I want to do is sit on the couch. Its a nice sore, though, reminiscent of accomplishment and sunshine. Which is just fine for a gray Sunday afternoon.

Today was a culinary adventure.

2008-05-12T21:33:00.000-07:00

It started with a necessary trip to Meijer to deposit a check. I'm not going to lie, I have a secret love of Meijer, similar to how everyone slows down to look at a car accident. You just can't help it. Theres such an amazing amount of crap in there, stuff that I generally forget exist in my sheltered Trader Joe's world. Anyhow, I needed popping corn and have been a search for plums for about a week now (apparently it is not plum season anywhere in the western hemisphere). So, in my trolling of the produce tables, a certain sign caught my eye- Quince. Now, I've never seen a quince, and I hadn't a clue they existed until I was reading a Australian cooking magazine my mom found somewhere (because she's like that, she just finds cooking magazines from other continents) and a recipe in it called for quince paste. And now I'm standing in Meijer, of all places, holding my very first quince. I had to buy them, of course, even though I had nary a clue what to do with them.

Epicurious has some good ideas, however, the most attractive of them calls for $40 a bottle apple brandy. hrrumph.
So, then I got the idea that I would like to make fish soup. I've never had fish soup, and certainly have never made it. This idea was put in my head by the movie we started watching at my parents last night; Marcel Pagnol's Fanny Trilogy. Its a French movie from 1931 that Alice Waters credits with inspiring her to name her daughter Fanny and her restaurant Chez Panisse. (See, the movie takes place is Marseilles; Fanny and her mother sell seafood-- there is talk of fish soup. obviously.) The movie is incredibly dry; my dad excused himself an hour in to the movie to go "remove his eyes with a melon baller". It definitely is dry verging on boring, but I found that sort of comforting in a way, like hearing your favorite story read to you. Theres no real need to pay attention, but you do, anyhow.
Oh geez this post is a rambler. I hope you don't mind.
So fish soup. The place to start, whenever you want to make something right-- not the fresh, new, updated version with avocado spears and and arugula-- but the dish, as it was intended, as the archetypal grandmother made it with an apron on and her hair in a loose gray bun, the place you go is The Joy of Cooking. if you don't own The Joy of Cooking, you really really must. It contains a recipe for everything. I can't recall a single instance in my whole life that I went to The Joy of Cooking and was disappointed.
Back to the soup. To do this, you need fish stock. To make fish stock, you need fish trimmings. where does one find fish trimmings?
So I called my mother. She was stirring risotto, and banging pans around one handed in order to talk to me. The answer, obviously, was the seafood market, which, she also informed me, had closed twenty minutes ago. The fish soup was out. I told her about my quinces. She told me that we once had a Quince tree, at an old house, that produced bushels and bushels of fruit-- that she had not idea what to do with because they're so bitter and tannic when raw. Which was perfect, really, as I had painted them to be rare, and exotic (they were stocked with the pineapples and coconuts for petes sake) and therefore exciting, when really, they were in my own backyard-- and a nuisance, at that.

At this point it's getting late- and I'm getting hungry. The fridge is sort of a mess, so I decide that its time for refrigerator soup. I discover ginger scallion stir-fry sauce that has likely been sitting there for a month, and thus should be used soon, and a starting-to-turn bunch of beautiful arugula ( I can't resist inserting here that this bunch was organic, and I paid $1.69 for it at Meijer-- however, if you were to walk around to the other side of the produce table, you would find, with the little plastic snap cases of fresh herbs, a little plastic snap case of arugula for a $1.99. I don't know if there's a difference between herb arugula and bunch arugula, but I find it entertaining none the less). At any rate, I decide that the stir fry sauce might make a nice broth, and indeed, it did.

I feel like this is the sort of meal that would make the 1950's food industry proud--"homemade" with all store-bought ingredients. Regardless, it was delicious.

Monday Night Refrigerator Soup

4-6 cups of water ( or chicken broth if you wanna do this up right; I'm horrible at remembering to buy and use chicken broth, so I just use Trader Joe's concentrate packets)
2 packets Tj's Chicken broth concentrate
1/4-1/3 cup Tj's Ginger scallion stir fry sauce
handful of potsickers/gyoza/dumplings
coarsely chopped arugula
Bring the water to a boil. Add the broth concentrate (if you need) and stir-fry sauce. Continue to boil and stir, so that the pastes dissolve adequately. Add the potstickers, and boil covered for a couple minutes. When the potstickers are about cooked, add the arugula. And voila, very tasty soup.
As a note, I might add a little fresh ginger or garlic next time, it was lacking the strong kick I was looking for.

Next there were cookies. Not just any cookies. Light, fluffy, Ms. Edna Lewis inspired cookies-- raved about with care and delicacy by the best food blog in town, Orangette. If you don't already know about orangette, you should stop reading this and go read orangette; shes far more eloquent and dreamy, and just well, wonderful all around.
So, this a direct copy paste from Ms. Molly, in case you don't want to click over there to find the recipe. I highly suggest you do, however, as her story about them is far more exciting than mine.
Also, after reading a series of ranting responses to another one of orangette's posts, I decided to mix the dough by hand, with a wooden spoon nonetheless. It was supremely enjoyable, sore wrist and all.

Buttermilk cookies from Gourmet via Orangette, inspired by Ms. Edna Lewis.

For the cookies:
1 ½ cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tsp. grated lemon zest
¼ tsp. baking soda
¼ tsp. salt
6 Tbsp. (3 oz.) unsalted butter, at room temperature
¾ cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
½ tsp. vanilla extract
1/3 cup well-shaken buttermilk

For the glaze:
¾ cup confectioners sugar, sifted
1 ½ Tbsp. well-shaken buttermilk
¼ tsp. vanilla extract

Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone liners. Preheat the oven to 350°F.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, zest, baking soda, and salt.

In the bowl of a stand mixer (or a large mixing bowl, if you’re going to use a handheld mixer), beat the butter briefly, until creamy. Add the sugar, and beat until pale and fluffy. Add the egg, and beat well to mix. Add the vanilla, and beat briefly again. Mix in the flour mixture and the buttermilk in batches at low speed, beginning and ending with the flour. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula as needed. The finished dough should be smooth and pale yellow.

Drop the dough by level tablespoons onto the prepared baking sheets, leaving about 1 ½ inches between each cookie. (If you have a very small ice cream scoop, one with a capacity of about 1 tablespoon, it’s perfect for this job.) Bake, 1 sheet at a time, until the cookies are puffed and their edges are golden, about 11 to 15 minutes per batch. Cool the cookies on the baking sheet for 1 minute; then transfer them to a wire rack.

To prepare the glaze, whisk together the sifted confectioners sugar, buttermilk, and vanilla. The mixture should be very smooth, with no lumps of sugar visible. Brush or spoon the glaze onto the warm cookies. (I wound up with leftover glaze, so don’t be surprised if you don’t use it all.) Allow cookies to sit on the rack until they are fully cooled and the glaze is set.

Note: These cookies are most tender and delicate on the day they’re made, but they’re not bad after a day or so. They just get more dense and chewy - a little different, that’s all. And for longer storage, they can be stashed in the freezer in an airtight container.

Also, the lighting in my house is always terrible and I've finally cleaned the pictures off my camera-- so if you go rifling back through old posts you just may find new pictures.

Also, Cj has informed me that the pizza in the food court of the Chicago airport tastes like the pizza they served in Belleville high school-- aka poopy. Avoid at all costs.

How to know about wine

2008-05-10T10:47:00.000-07:00

People often ask me how I know so much about wine. The easiest answer to that is that I don't know very much about wine, I just like it. However, I do realize that I've become one of the "go-to" people at work when a wine question arises for a reason. To get circular on you, that reason is simply because I like it, and like talking about it.
So, how does one get to that comfort level of being able to talk about wine with out a whole bunch of disclaimers? Where do you start? I've been mulling over a post like this for a while, and these are the suggestions I've come up with.

1. For starters, you already DO know a lot about wine.
I firmly believe that wine is not a mythical unicorn that absolutely requires a special set of rules and vocabulary to understand. Wine is a taste-based beast. Taste is a sense, just like sight and hearing. Most everyone would eagerly agree that other things that rely on the senses, say, music and paintings, are subjective, and indeed that art in general is subjective. I'm not quite sure how wine has escaped this classification, but its always seemed to me that wine, seeing as how it relies on an individuals taste buds to be processed and judged, is a form of art like any other, and thus should be judged on the same basic criteria: good art is subjective, and the real test is weather or not you personally like it. People have different tastes, and here it applies rather literally. So this is lesson number one: no wine (as with music or paintings) is inherently and universally good. It is only good if you like it. You're the one who's drinking it; if you think it tastes horrid, what does it matter what Wine Spectator had to say about it?
Of course, as with music and paintings, there are things that a vast majority of people consider to be great, the Beatles for instance, or Van Gogh's Starry Night. Wine, too, has these anomalies. Even so, there are people out there who will readily tell you that the Beatles are rubbish and starry night is ugly. So it goes in a subjective world.

2. Give constructive criticism.
If you've ever been in an English class, art critique, writing workshop, film class, band, or any other guided situation in which you were expected to critique something, chances are, one of the parties involved declared said poem/song/painting/film/ceramic pot to be "bad" and stated that they "don't like it". And, chances are, that whoever was in charge at that moment implored them to give a detailed explanation as to why. Theres a moral to this story: just because you're opinion is the only one that counts doesn't mean that you don't have to back it up. Granted, when you're having a glass of red at the kitchen table and announce that you don't like it, Mrs. Tank will not be there starting over her glasses with a death stare asking for an explanation. I would suggest, however, that you imagine her there, and this is why:
Since we've established that wine tasting is highly subjective, in order to communicate effectively about wine (and, indeed, to know your own tastes) you need to be able to tell me what exactly it is you don't like about it. For instance, I may not like that a given bottle of sauvignon blanc tastes like I got hit in the face with a peach. I would describe this bottle as not very good. You, however, love fruit forward wines and consider this one of your favorite bottles. Both of us are correct, you see, and it even makes perfect sense.
So, a hypothetical: Our friend John walks up, carrying aforementioned Sav blanc. He asks how this bottle is. Now, its choose your own adventure time.
you can:

A. Tell John its the worst bottle of wine you've ever had in your life, while talking over your friend who is simultaneously telling john that its their favorite bottle of wine.

B. You can both tell John in unison that it tastes like biting in to a ripe peach, and let John decide if that sounds appealing or not.

...if you chose 'A' John's head exploded and no one involved drank any wine because they were otherwise occupied attending a certain John's funeral.
If you chose 'B', you (I hope) now understand the importance of constructive criticism.
Obviously, this lesson applies to bottles of wine you like is well: identify the specific qualities that are leading you to judgmental conclusions.

This is the exact point where the wine-fear-ers (you know who you are) shout "BUT WAIT! I don't know anything about wine!! How am I supposed to know what to say it tastes like? No one ever taught me those fancy wine words!" *wail* *dramatic faint*
I'm here to tell you theres no need to be ashamed, and no need to shut down. In fact, I do believe this has got to be one on the best kept secrets about wine: the Is NO fancy unique vocabulary that is necessary to adequately taste wine. Right now, I can think of exactly two words used to describe how wine taste that are not apart of the average English speakers vocabulary: Tannin and Cassis. Tannins are a chemical compound found in the stems and skins of grapes, and produce that feeling that all the moisture is being sucked out of your tongue (tannins are also found in tea leaves and unripe fruit). And cassis is a fancy way of saying Currant, as in the berry.
Other than that (and don't worry about tannins right away, you'll understand them in time) all your doing is looking to recognize flavors (and scents) your already familiar with. What do you taste? chocolate? smoke? wood? dirt? raspberries? vanilla? bubble gum? Also, bear in mind that you don't have to be nice. Nail polish remover and wet dog are fine answers too.
Two technical side notes:
1. No need to make obnoxious noises or fish faces, but do try and make sure you get the wine in contact with all of your mouth: a quick, quiet, swish will do. Different parts of your mouth/tongue taste different things... make sure you give all the flavors a fair shot to be heard.
2. Most wine, particularly red, will "open up" when you let it sit open. This means, that as the wine interacts with the air more subtle flavors will appear, making the wine generally more pleasant to drink. Don't judge on the first sip. Let it sit in your glass a absolute minimum for 5 minutes, often up to 20. You'll notice flavor changes from the first sip to the last. And also, the next day you may find a totally different bottle.

Last but not least: Get a wine journal. It doesn't have to be a $20 book that came pre-labeled "wine journal"; a 50¢ spiral bugger with "wine journal" scrawled across the front in sharpie will do. Do everything in your power to write down every bottle and any flavor notes. Writing it down will "cement" it more than just thinking it, and, its rather handy to ensure you don't keep re-buying bottles you don't like.
If keeping a journal is just too structured for you, talk to someone about it. Tell them what you think, have them share their opinion. The moral here is to get out of your own head in to a more concrete form.

3. Now that your constructively criticizing wine, I will admit that although you don't need outside resources, there are a few that are extremely helpful.

The book you need: The (new) Wine Lover's Companion
This isn't a textbook, nor a guide to tasting. Its more like the best one-subject dictionary you've ever picked up. I use it at least once a week. Make a habit out of looking up words on the label you don't recognize. Its a good way to build knowledge slowly and in digestible chunks.
And, as a side note, there is also The New Food Lover's Companion that I also recommend highly. If you consider yourself a food/wine nerd, or aspiring nerd, or just like to eat or drink, these are necessary additions to your library. I know there are a lot of food and wine "dictionaries" and"guides" out there, but these are by far the best I've run across.

Particularly if you're worried about vocabulary, but even if your a registered sommelier, you need to watch:
Gary Vaynerchuk.
This guy is revolutionizing the wine world. Hes young, he's out of his goddamn mind, and he knows his stuff. He owns a wine store in New Jersey with his dad, and films this "video blog"/ internet TV show every week day. Insightful and goofy, he's not to be missed. Check out his episodes on your own at tv.winelibrary.com, or start with one of my favorites.

If you really really want some structure:
Both of these tasting guides have come highly recommended form various wine gurus in my life, and, though I don't own either of them (yet), I feel extremely confident in recommending them.

Windows On The World by Kevin Zraly.
The famous and multi-talented Mr.Tuna swears this is the book to have. And I believe him. Tuna is a wine knowledge machine, in addition to having been a marine and Trader Joe's manager, he once tried to extract DNA from oat bran (it doesn't work, apparently. Stick with the wheat germ). The book is written by the former sommelier of the Windows On The World restaurant, which was in the World Trade Center. It was a big deal restaurant. I'm ordering it from amazon today, book review to come.

How to Taste By Jancis Robinson

Another recommendation from a manager, Kerrie, who also knows her stuff (she opened some restaurants, not sure about her experiences with wheat germ). As I recall, she noted that while the book seems sort of cheesy, it's extremely informative, easy to follow and genuinely helpful. As I understand it, this book will outline tasting exercises and is more step by step. Jancis Robinson is a BIG deal-- she generally held to be one of the top wine writers and scholars, if you will, in the world.

In which Brian and Alli adventure to plum market for shrimp.

2008-05-05T12:04:00.000-07:00

So, I promised Brian that I would blog about the shrimp we made for dinner the other night. Thing is, they looked nice, and the glaze was delicious- but I was just not happy with them. I have three theories as to why:

1. A classic case of Alli-is-trying-to prepgrillwatchmarinade skewershrimpdirectbriannotforgetanything. Meaning, I love the whole organized chaos in the kitchen thing. Perhaps I took my pot-slamming and spoon twirling too far, and lost the organized bit all together.

2. I (am nearly positive) over-grilled the shrimp. I have the tiniest grill in the world, and didn't adequately spread my coals before starting-- so i had to keep flipping them and offsetting them to get the shrimps on the ends of the skwers. And i just wouldn't believe they were done. And so they were very... rubbery.

3. Poor quality shrimp. Which leads nicely in to the second topic of this post....

Their logo is simple and beautiful. The store is simple and beautiful. Craigslist would have you know their employees are beautiful(and, perhaps, simple). The billboard I passed everyday on my way home from school was simple and beautiful. So perhaps you can understand my expectations for this place-- simple, fresh, real.

Some background: Plum is the brain child of Matt and Mark Jonna. Their daddy Edward started/ran/owned Merchant of Vino, which I have many fond childhood memories of. Merchant of Vino was bought out by Whole Foods about 8 years ago. Anyhow, as I understand it (comment corrections if I've got my facts wrong) the Jonna boys worked for the big WF during this time period, and, in addition, signed a 5-year non-competition contract: ie, we won't open a new store for five years.
Five years later, out pops Plum, the boys very own store with out daddy.

So: simple, clean, beautiful and a second generation Merchant. What more could a girl want?
Sadly, I was particularly disappointed.

Here lie my beefs:

1. With only two locations, I expected everything within to be local, local, local. I wanted chips from the ann arbor tortilla factory, spices from Detroit spice Co., and pictures of Michigan farmers hanging over the produce. I wanted the name the cow and the farm it came from. Are these expectations may seem a bit over the top. However, I think that what I have described above is the only niche really missing in the ann arbor food market: you can get that local quality and attention in lots of places around town-- but thats just the point. If you want all these things, you have to drive to at least 3 or 4 different places. I'm pretty sure the only cranny left to wiggle in to (at least, successfully) around here is local, fresh and high end all under one roof. The only local I saw at plum was Zingermans. I'm sure someone out there would tell me "but it is there. They really do have these xx local products". And I'm sure thats true. However, if you're going to tell the Ann Arbor News that your focus is "natural, organic and local food" by damn, you had better hit me over the head with it. Sadly, my head made it out of there scott-free. Even whole Foods, a huge chain, can tell me, plainly posted above them, that my beets came from western Michigan. And I like that. Which leads nicely to point number two...

2. Roulette grocery.
Meaning, as I walked through the store, I was struck by this overwhelming feeling of inconsistency and incoherence. I had no idea as to how these foods ended up on the shelf together. I'm not talking about placement on the shelf, but rather the overall contents of the store: why carry Pepperidge farms cookies (which are not natural, organic or local) but not Keebler crackers? It gave off the impression that the contents had been squares on a roulette wheel, and chosen by luck, not by any particular overarching vision. And, indeed this just may be the problem: the about our store page states their vision as"Mixing the very best in natural, organic, specialty and local products".... So...They want to be whole foods, trader joes and kerrytown under one roof? I think its just too broad. Not to mention that the store is far too small.

3. Which leads me to the conclusion that the Jonna brothers are only theoretical grocery jedi's. I feel like they've read every how-to book but never talked to Yoda. They just don't get what people want out the the sort of grocery store they set out to create: intellect. The stuff between the lines, behind the scenes. They can pay someone to decorate the place well. They realized in their stint with whole foods that people will pay a silly amount for food products. What they didn't get was what those food products have in common: integrity-- of growing practices, of ingredients, of production. THAT is what people are willing to pay for.

so... I wouldn't be shocked if the shrimp I bought weren't exactly the best.

Anyhow, the moment you've all been waiting for:

Citrus-rum Shrimp Glaze

¼ cup honey
½ tsp lime peel, set aside
3 tbsp lime juice
3 tbsp dark rum
½ tsp orange peel set aside
1 tbsp orange juice
1 ½ tsp cornstarch
1 tsp grated fresh ginger
1 tbsp snipped fresh cilantro
20 fresh extra jumbo shrimps peeled in cleaned
1/4tsp salt and pepper each

for the glaze: in a small sauce pan, combine honey, juice, cornstarch rum and ginger. Cook and stir over medium heat until think and bubbly. cook 2 minutes longer. Cool to room temp. Stir in peels and cilantro.

step two: rinse shrimp. pat dry. skewer shrimp, leaving a ¼ inch between shrimp reserve half glaze. Brush shrimps w. other half.

step three: grill over medium. uncovered 2-3 minutes. Brush shrimp w. reserved glaze before serving.

Quick, delicious pasta-- and good for ya

2008-05-01T19:32:00.000-07:00

Once again, this recipe was a fortunate top hit form epicurious. I had goat cheese left over form the beet salad, and Arugula left over from a red-sauce adventure. I searched "cremini", which were getting old, and in the fridge because, well, I like them. Lo and behold, the first hit:

Cremini Mushroom pasta with arugula and Goat cheese
1 lb spaghetti
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/4 lb cremini mushrooms, sliced
1/2 tsp salt
4 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
4 cups arugula, coarsely chopped
6 oz goat cheese, crumbled
1/3 cup flat-leaf parsley, chopped

(Amounts included are a direct copy-paste from epicurious. I didn't measure anything--I boiled what I thought looked like pasta for two, used half a Tj's container of pre-sliced creminis, chopped a good handful of arugula, and crumbled about half a squat log of goat cheese. Also didn't have parsley. Again, with my disdain for measuring.) (OH! and I used whole wheat rotelli not spaghetti)

Start the pasta boiling right a way. While its doin' its thing, sautee the mushrooms in olive oil, add the garlic when they're about half done.
Before you drain the pasta, reserve about 1/2 of cooking water. After draining, return to pot.
Add arugula, and the contents of the sautee pan, and your crumbly cheese. (i apparently really want 'cheese' to have two 's' and not two 'e' today. geez.) Pour in about half of your reserved water and toss. The goal here is to make a cream sauce out of the goat cheese: add more water if you have to.
I see this quickly becoming an after-work favorite. So good, so simple.

If you want heartier, and some cubed chicken, or even chicken strips on top. Do not add Trader Joe's pre-cooked "just white meat chicken" because its dry as hell and you'll just end up picking around it anyway, or at least, I did ( had this for lunch at work its second go round, and thus had limited protein-addition options)

Novella Synergy blend, Paso Robles

2008-04-27T22:28:00.000-07:00

This guy is a fresh addition to the Trader Joe's wine collection as of Wednesday 4/23. The label initially drew me to it (well, that and it's "hey, I've never seen you on my shelf before" quality) and its price (a delightful $6.99) and blend convinced me to buy it: Petite sirah, cab, sangovese, and petite verdot. My instincts proved correct; this is an excellent bottle. It describes it self as "plum and berry... with a long elegant finish of currant, mocha and spice." I feel thats fairly accurate, however, I get a distinct earthiness towards the finish that works just delightfully with the dark fruit flavors. I don't really find anything I'd categorize as mocha (I imagine this means chocolate and coffee, appealing to the Starbucks crowd are we?) however,
I could easily see how the dark earthy flavors I'm picking up could be interpreted in to a dark earthy chocolate and dark earthy coffee (time for a definition: when I say earthy, I mean things like dirt, wood, and the general feeling of being in an old forest.)

The sheer loveliness of this wine isn't even the best part: The price is.

For reasons that won't mean anything to you unless you work at Trader Joe's or with wine distributors, I assumed that this was a Trader Joe's private label bottle. However, just to see what happened, I googled it. I came up with this. if you're too lazy to click that, what I discovered that is that this wine is not a private label, and is in fact produced by ESO vineyards and commercially available. That's not real exciting in and of it self, but the fact that their website is charging $14 plus shipping for a wine I brought home for $6.99 certainly is.
I haven't been able to determine if this is a one time buy, or if Trader Joe's really will be carrying this for half the recommended cost, but either way, you should run out and get some.

Henry the eighth has sung.

2008-04-26T10:13:00.000-07:00

It's over. Finals are done, I'm mostly free, and waiting on my final grades to go on and get posted. I'm hoping for another 4.0 this semester, but only time will tell.

I've been on a mildly Mediterranean kick lately,which has produced two notable mentions.

Roasted Beet Salad

First, I LOVE beets. Like, a whole lot. This is something my mother has been making for a long time, and is so simple that it barely counts as a recipe.

what you need:

A bunch or two fresh beets. Six medium sized beet will, when diced, yield medium sized bowl full. They look small when you buy them, but when cut up i ended up with a lot more that I expected. Unless you're entertaining, i would stick with about three good sized ones, otherwise you'll end up eating beets with every meal for a week.

Rubber gloves Beets WILL stain everything they touch. Rubber gloves really really are necessary. A passable alternative is cling wrap and tape, but you're going to need a good friend who's willing to tape up your dominate hand for you... and be sure to provide context before just asking folks if they'd be willing to ceranwrap your hands.
olive oil

For the dressing:
olive oil
Balsamic Vinegar
Salt & pepper
Dijon Mustard

Goat cheese and walnut pieces to top.

Step One is to roast the beets. Preheat the oven to about 400 degrees ( 350 if you've got an oven that likes to burn everything)
Cut the greens and and any rat-tail like roots off the beet so all you have a a round thing. Then, coat each beet in olive oil so its covered but not dripping, and wrap each individually in tinfoil. This results in quicker roasting and flavor retention. Do not half wrap the beet in foil and then pour olive oil in. It sounds like a good idea (trust, me i did it) but then you have too much oil in the little packets, and it seeps out and first will burn up on the bottom of your oven, which will cause your smoke alarm to go off each time you open the oven until you figure it out. Then, when you get smart and put them on a baking sheet, the oil will still seep, and then pool and then start to pop, causing more smoke and disconcerting sounds to come from the oven. SO, oil lightly but throughly first, then wrap.
Then put them on the oven rack, and bake until they're done: should be about 45 minutes, you'll be able to easily get a knife in ( don't bother to unwrap them, just poke through the thinnest spot in the tinfoil.) when the knife goes in easily (think about how you would know a potato is done,it'll feel like that) take them out and unwrap them CAREFULLY so you don't burn/stain/steam yourself or others.
Let them cool enough that you can handle them comfortably.

Step two is where the rubber gloves come in. You gotta peel 'em. Which, really, is super easy. Get suited up in your beet gear (gloves, ceranwrap, apron, very old tee shirt... what ever it takes. I ceranwraped my creme colored counter top too) Do this on a plate or a cutting board or something.
Once your prepped, pick up a beet and.... peel it. It skin will come right off. You can rub it a little bit to get it started, and once you get a bit up it'll peel right off. I promise. If you are wary of my instructions, just rub 'em a little. you'll see.

Step three is the salad making stage. Discard the skins (ie, get them off the cutting board.) and start dicing. It doesn't matter what shape or size pieces you end up with so long as they're comfortably bite size. put them in a glass bowl that they won't be able to stain. Then in a jar, make up your vinaigrette: equal parts oil and vinegar, with a good squirt Dijon mustard and salt and pepper to taste. Give it a good shake, pour it on the beets and toss.

Top with (or toss in, if you're not "presenting" it and just want to eat it) crumbled goat cheese and walnuts. A note here: make sure your goat cheese is good and cold: warm goat cheese does not crumble very well. In fact, though i have yet to try it, i think feta may just be a better choice all around. Crumbles well, still tasty. I think its a win-win. If you're going to feta, i suggest Pastures of Eden, made from goats milk in Israel. its by far the best feta I've ever had ever. I mean it. (you can, of course, get it at Trader Joe's)

Chick Peas and Swiss Chard

one smallish onion,thinly slice
clove or two of garlic, thinly sliced
one can chick peas, drained and rinsed
about half a bag of chard (Trader Joe's Chard of many colors)
one small tomato, diced (or a handful of canned diced tomatoes, drained... which, given that tomatoes are still out of season, I would recommend)
half a lemon or so to juice.

You're going to sautée everything, so i would suggest using a wide-bottomed semi-deep pan.
start with the onions. when they're about half done, add your drained chickpeas (and garlic), and sautée them so they start to get a little crusty.
once the garbanzos have a bit of a crust, add your tomato and use the drippings as an opportunity to scrape up brown bits. Then, add the swiss chard as much as you can at at time, and sir/turn (bring the bottom to the top) constantly, until all the the Chard is wilted nicely.
Then, juice the lemon on top (and salt and pepper of course) and serve warm.

Simple, delicious, and springy.

To do list, effective post tidal wave crashing.

2008-04-15T21:39:00.000-07:00

Thursday, I have a 10 page Chaucer paper due.
I really don't even have the time to post this note, but, as my resume will tell you, I excel in procrastinating.

Things I need to blog about starting Friday, April 25 (aka the day after finals)
•Gnarly Head Zin
•Avocado and shrimp salad
•see, I can't even remember what the other thing was. Dammit, Chaucer.
•Vinology, aka my first legal drinking experience with dad
•Cyrus Cab blend

EDIT: I remembered, I remembered! unconventional Fajitas, or, my experiences with the electric skillet.

pre-gaming for finals week.

2008-04-10T09:34:00.000-07:00

Currently, school is a cartoon tidal wave frozen in time waiting to come crashing down.
Which means that I've been cooking my ass off, because its the only thing i will allow myself to do guilt-free: No matter how busy, I still have to eat. Which means I still have to cook. Which makes cooking my only waking escape (sleeps a pretty ok escape too). I have of course, made fairly elaborate dinners the past three nights, two of which worth mentioning.

Monday: Chicken in White Wine Tomato sauce
I had chicken and prosciutto in the fridge, so I searched the two ingredients at epicurious. This was the first hit i got. I kinda botched it up from the original recipe; i really only used the " flavor profile" of the dish and not the actual recipe. (yea, thats right, I said flavor profile.) Regardless, it was completely delicious.

1 lb or so of chicken ( used pre-cut breast tenders)
4 slices or so of prosciutto, diced. (how do you dice paper thin meat? I dunno either... don't think, just do it. and watch your fingers.)
3-6 cloves of garlic thinly sliced * I accidentally chopped it. sliced sounds nice tho.
1 tbs of fresh rosemary (I think you're catching on that I don't measure anything and don't think you should either)
1 cup ish dry white wine
1 cup chicken broth
1 cup crushed tomatoes with puree (artists note: if you have whole tomatoes, crush them in your hand (like one of those stress balls) for some cheap, edible therapy)

In a large frying pan or shallow pot, brown the chicken. ( I rubbed in some Tj's lemon pepper first).
Remove the chicken from the pot.
Add the the prosciutto, garlic and rosemary over medium low heat (especially important if you have an electric stove- make sure the heat is low enough that you don't burn the garlic- remove the pan from the heat when you add the garlic if necessary. burned garlic is foul.) Sautee, stirring, about a minute.
Then add your liquids: wine, then chicken broth, then tomatoes. Scrape up any stuck brown bits. Bring to boil. Let thicken considerably. (5-10 minutes).
Then, add the chicken back in to the pot: nestle it back in to the liquid. Turn down to a simmer.
Some where in the middle of that process, Start some simple polenta (or, as Alex says, here in 'merrica, we call it grits)
Boil 3/4 cup skim milk with 3/4 cup water.
Once it comes to a boil, add one cup cornmeal-- SLOWLY, stirring constantly so it doesn't lump. If you want add some dried herbs to combat blandness: basil, oregano, etc.
continue to boil/simmer until it thickens enough to stick/stay on a fork. (you do want to eat it don't you?)

Serve a nice glop of polenta with a few chicken tenders and a heaping spoonful of sauce.

The Latest Zingerman's Adventure

2008-04-03T09:12:00.000-07:00

Due to my school-stir-crazy-ness, Cj and I went to Zingerman's Roadhouse for dinner last night. In case you missed it, it's Zingerman's sit-down "really good American food" restaurant. No sandwiches, lots of American classics made with the best ingredients they can find (lotta Niman Ranch meat). Menu items include six different kinds of macaroni and cheese, Chicken Fried steak, fresh seafood, and grits to name a few.
I promised Cj i would take him there so he could sample $20 chicken fried steak, in comparison to the $5 version he loves all over the south. (and yes, he's been to every state in the south but one, but can't figure out which.)

He had, of course, The Chicken Fried Steak, and Dead Guy Ale to drink, due to his love of beer and lack of love for adventure.

I had Georges Bay sea Scallops, sauteed, and a glass of Adelsheim Pinot Gris.

So, how did the $20 version of CFS hold up? average score of 7 out of 10 (assuming 10 is the "real thing") According to Cj:
The meat was the best he's ever had in chicken fried steak, earning an easy 10. The breading and gravy were of a high quality, and done well, but lacking the the southern touch: as he put it, "Its missing that old black dude with one gold tooth who's only purpose in life is to make chicken fried steak" flavor. Delicious, but not the real thing.
If you're interested in getting the best chicken fried steak, he suggests Mom's Place in Stillwater OK, where a chicken fried steak, salad, roll, fried okra and another side of your choice is $6.

And my scallops, you ask? Delicious. Firm, not chewy, nice subtle flavors, everything a scallop should be. The drawback? $27. Normally, I don't balk about restaurant pricing, I understand thats how the game works. However, I had exactly 6 scallops. Which, was more than enough to fill me, but something about the countablilty of them combined with knowing the price felt exorbitant. This doesn't really reflect on the meal so much as my own personal psychology, however, as I realize I wouldn't have minded a slab of fish at that price.

On to the wine. First, the service I received in ordering a glass of wine was excellent, if misguided. I asked for a recommendation in ordering a glass of white to go with my scallops; I explained that the qualities I appreciate in a white included butter, oak and vanilla, and I tended to shy away form wines that were particularly fruity or that read as sweet. It was rather noisy when I expressed this to the server, and I think (hope) that what he herd was the opposite of what I said. Regardless, he recommended two glasses and brought me a generous taste of each in order for me to make my mind up. unfortunately, both the wines he chose were rather fruit forward (and what i mean by this is that the first thing you taste, ie, the front of the palate, is all fruit) and one of them was aged in steel, which is a guarantee that there will be no oak-y ness. However, it turned out that the one aged in steel also had a bit of a spicy finish, which i appreciated, and went with that one. In the end, it was an excellent pairing with the scallops and impressive service that got me it, even if it wasn't the exact glass I was looking for. As a shocking side note, the guy didn't even card me.

Oh yes, I'm still not done. Thats right, we did it up right and even got dessert. (I was wearing heels for god's sake.)

Cj has an affinity for pecan pie, and the Zingerman's bakehouse version definitely towed the line. It was rich and caramel-y, with a delightfully airy filling,and a sturdy crust. (He may have chipped a tooth on it, but that sounds like a personal problem...mmhmm...)

My affinity for caramel (and dislike of chocolate) lead me to the Doughnut sundae, which is every bit as decadent and ludicrous as it sounds: house-made doughnut, topped with a scoop of vanilla, a scoop of whipped cream,(what appeared to be) homemade caramel sauce, AND garnished with Virginia peanuts and maraschino cherry. It was incredulous, and perfect and delicious and the best doughnut i have ever had in my life.
I absolutely could not finish it.

all in all, our meal was about $84, which, according to my internal dinner out price-o-meter-estimator, is slightly high (we had two drinks, not a bottle of wine) but certainly not unreasonable.

And of course, escaping from the mind-crushing expectations of academia? priceless.

(The author would like to note here that she rounded out they evening by watching The Matrix: Reloaded and ignoring all relevant homework for the night, instead basking in the glory of Keanu Reeves, home-brewed beer and tummy fulla doughnut satisfaction)

Sauvignon Blanc Tasting Highlights.

2008-03-30T13:05:00.000-07:00

Friday night, the lovely Miguel hosted a sauvignon blanc tasting. Its not my first choice of grape (nor many other attendees) which, i guess, made it a great theme for a tasting. The results, according to my fuzzy memories of the evening:

The wine for your "i don't like wine" friends: King Shag Sauvignon Blanc, New Zealand. $5.99
(Trader Joe's exclusive, thus, i can't provide any fancy winery page... because no one knows exactly where it comes from. Well, except for the secret service men in the buying department. )
The label of this wine features an adorable penguin looking bird, which i think accounts for about 1/2 its sales. Any how, this bottle could easily be mistaken for peach schnapps. Okay, so, perhaps I'm being a bit hyperbolic, but... the lasting memory of have of it is "PEACH". As a result, it comes off as sweet, and obviously, extremely fruity. It gets bonus points for boldness, but is also lacking any subtle flavor nuances.
The "best in show" underdog: Fetzer Sauvignon Blanc, Valley oaks, California. $6.49
I didn't have very high expectations for this bottle; Fetzer is a major producer-- a little two major for me to believe they run a tight enough ship to make quality wines in the quantity that they do (a quick peruse of their web site says they hit 2.2 million case production 16 years ago) Given all that- this bottle really towed the line in my opinion. It wasn't over powering, like the King Shag was, nor was it as flat and one dimensional as the Night Harvest. It was fairly well rounded, with flavors that hit most of the palate. As another Fetzer side note, they appear to be really excited about organic and sustainable farming, which is twice as impressive given what a large operation they run.

The expected "Best in Show": Nobilo Sauvignon Blanc, New Zealand. $10.49
Nobilo was the most expensive wine in the room, and likely also the one with the highest expectations and best reputation. As their website will tell you, its clean, fresh, with a hit of fruit and light acidity. It is admirably lacking the sugary quality that so often sneaks up in the cheaper versions of this grape. And of course, the Marlborough region of New Zealand is known almost exclusively for its excellent Sauvignon blancs, and this one is no exception. It would be a great summer porch wine. As compared to the Fetzer? This guy cleaner and better rounded. However, as Sauvignon Blanc is my personal 3rd choice of white grape, this guy is on reserve for special occasions and the Fetzer is the one I would keep in the fridge for daily use.

The unexpected low score: Night Harvest Sauvignon Blanc by RH Phillips, California. $8.99
Lets start this off with some background: I have an mostly unfounded respect for PH Phillips because my parents have a poster of their other line of wines, Toasted Head, Hanging in their office. Its a cool logo, for sure, and, it was a sorta revolutionary new production method when they released the line: they literally "toasted" (read:burned) the heads (ends) of the oak barrels the wine was aged in. This happened about ten years ago now, and it made major waves in the California wine world at the time. people were excited. Including my dad, who loved the toasted head chardonnay enough to buy the poster. Night Harvest is RH Phillips new/re branding (I'm not sure which... the website doesn't really clarify anything). It appears to be a sort of "lower line" to off set the roughly $14 a bottle Toasted Head line. SO, perhaps now you understand why I had perhaps exorbitant hopes for this wine. If you just want to know how the wine tasted and don't want to read my stories, start here. In a word,it's Flat. It hung heavy around the middle palate, with out much of a front or finish. Additionally, the middle palate flavor wasn't much to speak of: very one dimensional. I especially for nearing the $10 range, I expected much more. I have back up on this one, as no one I talked to the next day had anything outstanding to say about it.
As a note, yes, they actually do harvest the grapes at night. I know you were dying to know.

Other wines present included Trader Joe's French Market, Trader Joe's Costal, and Charles Shaw versions, as well as the Mondavi Fume Blanc and a Trader Joe's pouilly fume. All of which I either didn't try or neglected to make a lasting memory of, and for that, I apologize.

A note self/other who want to taste 8-10 in an evening: eat the cheese and crackers, or you won't make it home.

Carmen Reserva Carmenere Cab

2008-03-25T22:23:00.000-07:00

The new wine love of my life is the Carmen vinyards (Chile) Carmenere cab blend. It's about a $15 bottle, but Trader Joe's brought it in on a one time buy for $6.99. I bought the last bottle today... and boy, is it delightful.
Its got a deep berry and curent nose with a hint of pipe tabacco and smoke (cedar).
Its got smooth tannins, a touch of spice, suble berry flavors and a smoky finish. Thin legs. Delightful i say, delightful. It actually tastes like a $15 bottle of wine.
Also, amazing with a smooth dark chocolate.
sigh. (yes, i am swooning in to my glass)

Alex is Sick Food

2008-03-25T21:43:00.000-07:00

1 Tbs or so butter, the best you got
1.5 cups or so mushrooms-- porchini, Shitakke, and Cremini
1 lb chicken, cut in to strips
2 c. Broth ( 1 not enough) ( cornstarch to thicken)
.5-1 cup white wine, dry

serving method, cooked-- egg noodles or mashed potatoes

steep porchini in hot broth until rehydrated. Drain mushrooms, reserve broth.

Melt butter in large frying pan. Add mushrooms, cook atleast 10 minutes so the butter is absorbed, and the mushrooms are starting to brown. Meanwhile, in a different pan, heat 1/2 inch broth till boiling. Add chicken,s&p and thyme. simmer until mostly cooked. Add entire contents of chicken frying pan to Mushroom frying pan when chicken is mostly done and mushrooms are soft and brown. Add any extra broth and wine. Continue to simmer, add cornstarch to thicken in to gravy.

serve over starch.