When it’s time to change…

I’m spiffing things up around here and will be back soon with a new look and (gasp!) more frequent posts.  Stay tuned…Image

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A Martha Moment

A few times a year, usually around my kids’ birthdays, Martha Stewart—through some sort of mind control via her robin’s egg blue KitchenAid Stand Mixer–makes me do things no sane person would ordinarily do.

Case in point:

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Or perhaps:

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Or maybe:

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It’s a Good Thing (that birthdays only happen once a year).

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What about you?  Does Martha ever put some kind of cookie press/white dishware voodoo on you?

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A Fast Food Quiz

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What’s the deal with this Happy Meal?

a.  It was accidentally left on the kitchen counter overnight

b.  It fell out of the bag on a bumpy car ride home

c.  Oh, man!  What happened to my drink?

d.  Looks fine to me

e.  It’s celebrating its first birthday

The correct answer is the last one.  Someone wanted to find out what would happen to a Happy Meal if you left it on a shelf for a year.  The result?  Not much.

My six-year-old took a look at the photo and expressed appreciation for the fact that the food wasn’t molded or had flies around it.  Because that’s just gross.  I couldn’t make her understand that food should be gross after it’s been left out for a year.  She was also relieved that the Littlest Pet Shop toy was in good shape, too.

You can read about this experiment and see the “Before” photo here:  http://www.babybites.info/2010/03/03/1-year-happy-meal/

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Recipes for Disaster: Bread Edition

In the spirit of eating healthier and being more frugal with my grocery dollars, I decided instead of just picking up a loaf of my usual Pepperidge Farm, I would use what I already had in the kitchen and bake up some sandwich bread.  Even though I’m not much of a baker, I’ve done this many times before, and it’s usually quite easy. . . some bread flour, some yeast, a stand mixer, and my trusty recipe from The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook.

Things started off well enough, but as I was pouring the wet ingredients into the bowl of the stand mixer, I spilled a bit, most of which immediately retreated underneath the mixer.  It was only a small mess, so I just let it go and forged ahead.  In hindsight, I think perhaps the Kitchen Gods were sending me an omen.

The dough looked and felt great as I kneaded it.  I tucked it into its bowl and slipped it into the cozy, barely-warm oven to rise.  After an hour and a half of Facebooking attending to important business, I checked on it.  It looked exactly the same.  Not a good sign.  I kept holding out for a miracle, though.  After being left to its own devices for another hour, it had only risen slightly.  I went ahead and kneaded it the second time, placed it back in the bowl, and ordered it to get its shit together.  Again, it shirked its duties and refused to get much bigger.  A girl can only wait so long for a loaf of bread (and this recipe takes several hours from start to finish when everything is going right), so I threw caution to the wind and started baking that sucker anyway.

And the wind cried Mary.  Or maybe it was “FUCK!!!”  After about 10 minutes, I smelled smoke.  I opened the oven and discovered that the melted butter I had brushed on top of the loaf was streaming onto the oven floor.  That damned dough finally rose to the occasion (so to speak) as it started baking and apparently didn’t want to have any butter getting in its way.  I slid a piece of aluminum foil under the rack, but the damage had already been done.  It looked like we were operating a smokehouse out of our home.

I took the partially baked bread out and turned the oven off.  After about 30 minutes of waving dishtowels in the air like castaways who’ve spotted a plane and freezing our asses off because it was 35 degrees outside and we had to let in some fresh air, the smoke abated.  The disobedient bread met its maker in the garbage disposal, and I learned a few valuable lessons.

First, you shouldn’t go years without cleaning your oven at least once.  As much as I’d like to say that this was all the result of a tussle between dairy and grain products, the truth is I have never cleaned my oven.  I think I just sort of assumed that all that gunk in the bottom would just get burned off as I went about my usual baking business.  Second, check your smoke detectors every six months, just like those PSAs tell you to.  Even though my kitchen and a couple of nearby rooms resembled the aftermath of poker night or an AA meeting, none of our smoke detectors went off.  Finally, support your local bakeries by buying bread from them.  They are experienced in the fickle ways of dough and know how to deal with insolent loaves.  And they probably clean their ovens on a regular basis.

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The Elusive Loaf

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Turning Wine into Water

This will no doubt come as a shock to longtime readers (all three of you), but lately I’ve been thinking I need to cut down on my wine consumption.  As much as I adore my beloved vin rouge, I imbibe too much and too often.  So even though I’m not a religious kind of gal, I have decided to give up wine for Lent.

I’d been mulling over this idea for a few days when—in a kismet-ey kind of moment—I  discovered Blood:Water Mission (thanks, Kim!).   Blood:Water is challenging people to give up all beverages except for tap water for 40 days and then donate the money they save on drink purchases to support safe water programs in Africa.

Giving up wine will be hard enough, and without  her dear friend coffee pinch hitting, I don’t know that I can do this.  So I’ve altered the plan a bit:  For 40 days I will not drink any wine and then donate the money saved to Blood:Water.Image

Well, now.  I guess I’ve made it official.  Tomorrow I embark on what may prove to be an excruciating enlightening  journey.  Let me just finish off this bottle of Zinfandel first.

What about you?  Are you giving up something for Lent?  Do you want to take the 40 Days of Water challenge?

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Filed under Drinking, Social Responsibility, Wine

Cookie D’oh!

ImageI go to a holiday cookie exchange nearly every year.  If you’ve never done this before, basically you bake up a shitload of cookies, take them to a party, eat massive amounts of cookies brought by the other participants, load up a container with cookies to take with you, and try to make it home before the sugar crash.

I’m not much of a baker, and I don’t particularly enjoy making cookies, but for some reason, I keep attending these parties.  Maybe it’s the company.  Or maybe  it’s the permission to unleash my inner Cookie Monster.  Or maybe it’s the chance to take home a bunch of beautiful, delicious cookies and then pass them off as my own creations.

This year, as I searched for a cookie recipe that even someone in a coma couldn’t screw up, I started thinking about how this whole cookie exchange business got started anyway.  And for that matter, why does everyone go into a cookie frenzy at Christmas?  Why not bread or cupcakes or sausages?

Most holidays have some sort of food associated with them.  There’s turkey and Thanksgiving, New Year’s Day and black-eyed peas, Valentine’s Day and candy.  But some people go their own way when it comes to what they eat when they celebrate.  For a number of years, my brother and I—for reasons neither of us can recall–heated up frozen burritos on the Fourth of July, and I know a family who has chili dogs every year for Thanksgiving dinner.

Maybe next year instead of throwing out another batch of defective sugar cookie dough or suffering the slings and arrows of those who feel their gingerbread men should have well-formed heads and limbs, I’ll organize a different sort of holiday exchange.  I’m thinking liquor will be involved.

___________________________

What about you?  What are your thoughts on cookie exchanges or holiday food traditions?

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And the winner is (finally!)…

The winner of my little giveaway is:

Heather

She will be receiving a holiday-esque, cooking-related prize.  (Heather, look for it soon on a porch near you!)

Thanks to everyone who entered.  I’d like to do this again in the future, so stay tuned.  And remember, your odds of winning are excellent!

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These Are a Few of My Favorite Things: Kitchen Edition

Yeah, I know I’m not Oprah.  So you probably couldn’t care less what some of my favorite things are unless afterwards I give you a bunch of lavish gifts.  But I hope you’ll keep reading anyway.  And who knows?  You may not be given the keys to a new car, but you may get a little something.

ImageTomato Paste in a Tube I love the tomato paste that comes packaged like toothpaste.  I rarely use tomato paste, and when I do I usually only need a tablespoon or two.  Those little cans have way more than that in them, so I end up wasting most of it.  Plus, in the event that I do need the whole can, it’s virtually impossible to dig all of it out.  This handy dandy product solves both problems.  Just use what you need and then toss it in the fridge until next time.

ImageAnchovy Paste in a Tube As if the tomato paste in a tube wasn’t brilliant enough, someone went and put anchovy paste in one, too.  As with tomato paste, I just don’t use anchovies enough to justify buying them in the little tin.  But when needed, I can whip out the tube o’ tiny fish and get my puttanesca sauce on.

ImageFrozen Peas Much like some gals I’ve known, frozen peas are cheap and easy.  They taste nothing like the mushy mess that comes in a can.  A bag of them will run you about a buck, and it only takes a few minutes to nuke them in the microwave.  (If even that is too much work for you, you can now find frozen peas that cook right in the package.)  Add a pat of butter and some S&P, and you’ve got yourself a no-brainer side dish.

ImagePanko I never knew bread crumbs could be so exciting until I discovered these Japanese gems.  They make everything from fish to chicken to tofu wonderfully crispy and delicious.

ImageSpoonulas If you’re a fan of the spork and the spife, then this utensil is for you.  It’s a spoon and a spatula (hence, the name).  Excellent for when you need to stir and scrape, such as when you’re making brownies, oatmeal, cornbread, polenta, etc.

ImageSharpie Pens Obviously, this seems like a strange choice for the kitchen, but bear with me.  Stick a Sharpie in your junk drawer, and it will always be ready when you need to label freezer bags, put your kid’s name on her snack for school, or draw a handlebar moustache on your baby when he falls asleep in his high chair.

ImagePowdered Buttermilk Much like tomato paste and anchovies, I found that buying buttermilk for a recipe inevitably led to waste.  I’d use what I needed for the dish I was making, and then the rest of the buttermilk would languish in the dark recesses of my refrigerator, right next to the box of Arm and Hammer I stuck in there in 1998 and the Tupperware container of unknown, fuzzy content.  Then the fine folks at Cook’s Illustrated turned me on to powered buttermilk.  You use only what you need and then keep it in the fridge until you need it again (and it keeps for freakin’ ever).  How smart is that?

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Stretch Tite Plastic Wrap Finally!  Plastic wrap that actually sticks to what you want it to and not to itself.  Don’t you love it when things work like they should?

How about you?  What things do you love having in your kitchen?  Leave a comment on this post with a few of your favorite kitchen things.  I’ll randomly select one entry and send you a surprise kitchen item that might end up being one of your favorites (I’ve only got, like, three readers, so your odds are pretty good).  I’ll announce the winner here on my blog.  The deadline is Saturday, November 21.  Why should Oprah and her guests have all the fun?

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Not for Love or Bunny

killer rabbitMy five-year-old declared one day out of the blue that she was a vegetarian.  This was not a totally shocking revelation.  I mean it’s not like we’re cattle ranchers or anything.  And I have flirted with a meat-free diet since the seventh grade when I read in 16 magazine that Rick Springfield was a vegetarian.  (He also inspired a General Hospital habit and an odd fascination with Australia, but that’s another story)

By the time Flibber was born, I was only occasionally eating meat (a “flexitarian” in current parlance).  I was adamant that she not eat meat until she was old enough to understand that McNuggets once had a face and feathers.  Soon enough, she started becoming curious about where food comes from, and it was time to have “The Talk.”  I was honest with her.  We had many conversations that went something like this:

Flibber:  “Where does steak come from?”

Me:  “A cow.”

Flibber:  “Like the one that Old MacDonald had that moo mooed everywhere?”

Me:  “Yes.”

Flibber:  “Ewww!”

When she was around four, I eased up on the meat prohibition, confident that she understood that an animal had to die in order for there to be Happy Meals.  She delighted in the formerly forbidden Chik-fil-A and relished the corndog her father bought her at a music festival.  Fast food kids’ meals were definitely not a staple of her diet, but she indulged in them from time to time.  The accompanying toy seemed to be the main draw for her anyway.  If fast food was on the menu, she would inevitably lobby for Burger King because they had SpongeBob action figures or for Wendy’s because she could get an Arthur audio book there.  The food itself was pretty much an afterthought (which is kind of the fast food business model anyway, I suppose).

One night we were eating dinner at home, and she asked if people ate rabbits.  I don’t remember what was on her plate that night, but I’m reasonably sure it wasn’t hasenpfeffer.  I told her that some people eat rabbit, and that I, in fact, quite liked it when I was about her age.  This seemed to horrify her.  She proclaimed that she would never eat a rabbit, and I told her that it would probably never be an issue for her.  To my knowledge, rabbit was never a snack at her pre-school, and I doubt that Hardee’s has any plans for offering “Bunny Nuggets” anytime soon.  The next day, her prohibition against rabbits had evolved into a full-fledged commitment to vegetarianism.

For a few weeks, she was firm on the no-meat stance.  She told anyone who would listen—the kids in her playgroup, her relatives, the cashier at Target—that she was a vegetarian.  She even convinced a classmate to adopt a meat-free diet (although she did reserve the right to eat bacon).  We were proud of her dedication.

But then Ronald McDonald butted in.

One afternoon after school, Flibber asked if we could go to McDonald’s.  I said sure, that we could just ask them to leave the  McNuggets out of her Happy Meal (we didn’t even get into the fries-that-are-sprayed-in-beefy-liquid issue).  She looked at me as if I’d just suggested we go knock off a liquor store after hitting the Micky D’s drive-through.  She went along with it, though, but then the next time a fast food treat was offered, she asked if she could get her “usual” (chicken nuggets, fries, and chocolate milk).  When I reminded her of her commitment to a vegetarian diet, she thought for a moment and said, “I think it’s okay to eat chickens because I don’t really like them all that much.”

She continued to apply this logic over the next several months.  Everything from cows to pigs to shrimp were added back to her diet, as she determined whether she liked them or not.  Before long, only one animal was still prohibited:  The rabbit.bunny

Years ago someone told me that the easiest way to become a vegetarian is to eliminate one animal at a time from your diet.  I guess you gotta start somewhere.  And maybe just making a start is good enough for a while, especially when you’re five and you really like bunnies.

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We Got the Beet

The_Lonely_Broccoli-obkoeh-dPoor veggies.  They have to be the geeks of the food world.  They often end up pushed to the side of the plate, far away from more delectable offerings, like the unpopular kids who aren’t invited to sit at the cool table in the school cafeteria.  And they are no doubt the teacher’s pet, too.  Ask any nutritionist, parent, or average pre-schooler, and they will tell you that veggies are among the healthiest foods one can eat.

Yet, no one seems to actually want to eat them.  I somehow doubt that in the history of the American penal system, a death row inmate has asked for a last meal of Brussels sprouts, chard, and turnips.  Our culture seems to have a love-hate relationship with vegetables.  Unless the veggie being served is French fried or doused with ranch dressing, we want nothing to do with it.

Recently, we’ve seemed to have given up on trying to convince kids to eat their veggies outright, resorting instead to trickery.  Note the popularity of such cookbooks as The Sneaky Chef and Deceptively Delicious.   And this attempt to hide veggies doesn’t stop with kids.  The author of The Sneaky Chef also has a book called The Sneaky Chef: How to Cheat on Your Man (in the Kitchen!): Hiding Healthy Foods in Hearty Meals Any Guy Will Love.  Apparently, left to their own devices, men cannot be trusted to eat anything from the produce section.  I know some parents who love these cookbooks and feel like this is the only way to get their kids (and their husbands, evidently) to actually ingest a vegetable.

But tricks (or “illusions” if you’re Gob Bluth) only further malign those nerdy veggies.  If I make a chocolate cake and dump in some pureed beets and no one is the wiser, isn’t that just perpetuating the myth that veggies are yucky?  My kids are going to like chocolate cake no matter what; convincing them that beets are actually pretty tasty is harder, but ultimately the challenge will pay off.   After all, who’s going to puree all that cauliflower and hide it in their mac ‘n’ cheese after they leave the nest?  (Hint:  It sure as hell won’t be me).

There’s also the question of whether deceiving  your children at every meal will lead to trust issues and, eventually, rebellious vegetable consumption in the teen years.  By the time these kids are in high school, they may be hiding a bag of spinach in their sock drawer or skipping school to hit the salad bar at Whole Foods.  But I’ll leave it to the child development specialists out there to sort out what damage might be wrought from parental vegetable trickery.

That said, no matter how you prepare it, present it, or sing its praises, a Brussels sprout is never going to be anyone’s culinary prom date.  Cheesecake, cookies, and a thousand other hip foods are always going to be the homecoming queens and quarterbacks.  But that doesn’t mean you have to bully those poor veggies like you are Nelson Muntz.

Like the plot of many a bad teen movie, veggies really just need a good makeover.  Take off the glasses, change the clothes, style the hair, and voila!—from frumpy to foxy in less time than it takes to peel, puree, and hide a bunch of sweet potatoes in your pancakes.   The problem with veggies is that people tend to overcook them (“cooked to death,” my grandmother would say).  Not only does overcooking destroy many of the nutrients, it also often leaves you with a slimy, grayish, and utterly unpalatable mess.  There is a time and place for cooked-to-death veggies (Southern-style green beans, for example), but one of the veggie commandments should be “Thou Shalt Not Kill.”  It’s also important to stay away from most canned vegetables.  Some taste great and are convenient, such as beets and tomatoes, but many are downright horrid (canned peas, I’m talking to you!).  A much tastier—and just as convenient—option is frozen veggies.

What follows are some recipes for a few of the most shunned members of the vegetable clan.  None of the recipes are difficult or time-consuming, making them great for busy home cooks (and who isn’t a busy home cook?).  Slap them on a plate with a simple grain dish (rice, couscous, potatoes) and an easy-to-prepare protein (chicken, tofu, eggs), and you’ve got dinner on the table without the hassle of dragging out the Cuisinart or duping your family.

Bodacious Brussels Sprouts

1 lb. bag of frozen Brussels sprouts, thawed and halved

1 TB olive oil

1 TB butter

¾ C water (or vegetable or chicken broth if you have any), divided

2 TB sugar

2 TB cider vinegar

Salt and pepper to taste

  1. Heat the oil and butter in a sauté pan or large skillet over medium-high heat.  Add the sprouts and sprinkle with salt.  Cook, stirring occasionally, until they start to brown, about 5 minutes.
  2. Add ½ cup of the water or broth and bring to a boil.  Lower the heat, partially cover, and simmer until the sprouts are just tender and the liquid has been absorbed, about 10 minutes.
  3. Add the remaining water or broth, sugar, and vinegar.  Simmer uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the liquid has reduced to a syrup, about 5 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper and serve.

Note:  You can also use fresh Brussels sprouts, but you’ll need to wash and trim them first.  The frozen ones taste just as good and are much easier to deal with.

Beets You’ll Want to Eat

1 lb. beets, tops and tails removed, scrubbed clean

2 TB butter

Salt and pepper to taste

  1. Steam the beets using a steamer basket until they are easily pierced with a knife.  Depending on the size of the beets, this will take from 20 to 45 minutes.
  2. Remove from heat, and when cool enough to handle, peel.
  3. Slice or chop into whatever size you like and place in a large bowl.  Toss with the butter until it is melted, season with salt and pepper, and serve.

Note:  If you have more time, you can roast the beets in the oven at 400 degrees for 30 to 60 minutes (again, the time depends on the size of the beets) or until they are tender.  If you have less time, you can use canned beets and just heat them in the microwave.  Proceed with the rest of the recipe.

Caution:  Beet juice stains, so be careful when handling them and don’t dress your kids in their new white outfits from Strasburg Children when serving.  Also, don’t panic the next time you change a diaper.  Your kid isn’t bleeding internally—again, beet juice stains.  Everything.

Little Trees

1 lb. broccoli, washed, stemmed, and cut into small pieces

1 TB butter or olive oil

Squeeze of fresh lemon juice

Salt and pepper to taste

  1. Steam the broccoli using a steamer basket until just tender. 5 to 8 minutes.
  2. Place it in a large bowl and toss with the butter and lemon juice.  Season with salt and pepper and serve.

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