Monday, October 14, 2013

Something with Mushrooms

I am trying to do these meal things, and with each one show something that can be adapted to other food items.  For example, that foil container could be used to cook other types of fish if one were so inclined. Just after you've gotten comfortable with how done your fish should look, check it and see if the cooking time varies, but it won't be by much. 

This time, we'll do some sautee-ing, but we'll also do some roasting. To keep the rest simple, we'll just make a salad to go along with it. That will also let us do a quick dressing, which can be made whenever you have a a spare moment, and can be easily tweaked to suit your mood. 

So, this mushroom business...At first I didn't want to tell you to just sautee a bunch of mushrooms. Then I started to think that you could adapt them several different ways---try to keep in mind that these mushrooms don't have to be eaten by themselves. You could eat them like a steak. You could combine them with bell pepper and onion to be the foundation of a burrito (or bowl, as it were). You could also mix multiple varieties, and with minor adjustments, serve them over a risotto or noodles. 



Think about it like the Beatles. Sometimes John sang, sometimes Paul sang. Sometimes they traded off different instruments like a flexible web of combinations. Depending on the goal, you can use the same four ingredients in nearly infinite variety. Hell, you could even add some Yoko if you want. Just sayin'. 

Your key ingredients will be olive oil, red potatoes, portobello mushroom, a little red wine vinegar (or some fresh lemon juice), and some spring mix. For seasoning, you will need salt and pepper, thyme, parsley, and garlic powder. Make sure you have a good chopping knife, or you will NOT be a very happy camper.

Thing one will be to preheat your oven, 375 is usually a reliable medium temperature. You can leave the skins on your potatoes--they will crisp nicely and add some texture + nutrient value. While the oven is heating, chop your potatoes. You can season them in a bowl or go straight to the pan (which I often do, one less frakking dish to wash). For the pan, it can be glass or aluminum or whatever. You just want it to be big enough so your potates aren't all crowded and laying on top of each other. That will increase your cooking time too much. 

With your olive oil, you're going to drizzle it on like this: 


It's a funky gesture, and it's kindof dependent on you keeping the bottle in motion. Then sprinkle two three finger pinches of salt from up high. Shake out some garlic powder, thyme, and (somewhat less of this) parsley. Keep in mind while you're doing this, you're about to toss the potatoes to distribute these goods. So it's going to look like a little bit more than you want at first, and then come out just right. The picture below is on the light side. 



These aren't red potatoes, but you get the idea. 

While those are in the oven (~25-30 mins), we shall do other things. Now would be a good time to do the salad business, because it's not as if it's going to get hot or cold. I like to dump however much spring mix I want into a really big bowl, grind some fresh pepper over it (think ~5 turns? Adjust as needed), sprinkle a small  amount of your chosen acid (lemon or vinegar), and finally drizzle a small amount of olive oil. Toss to distribute. Tadar!

Now, we're going to do mushrooms. I'm just describing this with 'bellas, but you could use a combination here, too. Just make sure when you're slicing they're roughly the same thickness, or it will screw with the cooking time. The other important thing is not unlike the potatoes: make sure that they have enough space in the pan. If they're too close together, the moisture won't evaporate quickly enough, and they will not brown properly. They might taste ok, but they won't have the carmelized surface that you  really want.  You can also add a small amount of garlic and/or onion, which would add some texture and sorta complete the flavor profile. I tend to think of it like a harmony, with the other flavors as supporting notes. 

This whole mushroom business should take ~13 mins, and you really don't have to be super nitpicky about stirring it, because it is going to need to be almost sticking to the pan. You'll probably be able to smell when the magic happens. If you can, it will mean you don't have to keep staring at them. But either way, peek in on your potates at some point. They should wind up being finished about the same time. 

However, if your potatoes get done before the mushrooms, just turn off the oven and crack the door. They'll stay warm in there. If your mushrooms get done before the potatoes, turn off the burner and throw some tinfoil on top. When you're all set, maow down :-)

Surrendering Summer


I had been back from the beach for a few days...In fact, I hadn't even been at the beach very long. About two days, including one scalding sunburn, several large cigars, and much much booze. I came home a salty pickled lobster, still basking in the afterglow. I was unpacking and pulled out this shirt, which sent a tiny breeze of ocean and sand scent through the room. I was loathe to put it away, hanging it  up on my closet door, pretending that the intensity of that remembrance wouldn't fade.



Sometime before that, I had planted carrots and leeks. The carrots look slightly like cilantro leaves, but they seem to be doing much better than my cilantro ever did. I know that's a sad admission, but I think I overwatered them..or perhaps they were missing something from the soil. Anyhow, these little leeks are slow growers, but it seems they are trucking along. I should plant many, many more of them, but I don't know if I will have time. 


I don't want to quite admit that a new part of my life is about to start. I am kinda, really, scared. I keep thinking that if I hadn't been so foolish or wasteful; if I had just been a little smarter with my money, a little better at managing my time...I would be in a much better spot. But I suppose all of that doesn't really matter now, and I can't keep dwelling on it.

It's like this house I live in: It's good in that it is my space, I have spread out all over it. I have painted some, and made music, and food. I have shared it with other people and leavened much time with humor and conversation. Yet it is never clean enough, I can never fix it up to my satisfaction or even feel like something more than crazy teenagers live in it. It is peeling and on a slant and I am constantly evicting spiders from every corner. But it just is.  I have to accept that, for now, and stop wasting energy fighting what really isn't going to matter in the long run. Sigh.




Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Food is For Challenges


A dear, frustrating friend of mine is going through something difficult right now. This breaks my heart on his behalf, but also because I saw it coming and decided it was best to bite my tongue and not say the unpleasant thing. After that, I saw it coming again...and maybe did say the unpleasant thing, but he makes his own decisions.  I am too far away to bring over noodle soup and pat his head like a 'poor little bunny' (If you don't get this reference click here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbmbMSrsZVQ)... But I am close enough to call after work and suggest recipes. So I am going to give some ideas for those who are short on time, short on a cooking partner, or both. I think this will be an ongoing project...but we shall see.

My local grocery store, which I affectionately call "The Weg,"  likes to sell pretty darn good farm raised salmon in two pound bags. These little guys inside the bag are single-serve, vacuum sealed portions. This means you can thaw one at a time, without a giant pain in your behind arising. They tend to be about $7 a pound, which means that you get about 6 main courses for $14.

Anyhow, the easiest preparation I've found just involves the portion of salmon, your choice of seasonings, a little butter or olive oil, and some tin-foil. If you're short on time, the quickest way to thaw a piece would be to fill a large bowl with hot tap water, and weight down the piece of salmon inside its plastic wrap for about 15 minutes. This should fully thaw the serving with minimal struggle. Meanwhile, pre-heat your oven to 375. Unwrap your salmon, salt both sides, use a little freshly ground black pepper too. I like to sprinkle the salmon with coriander and dill, and squeeze a little lemon on top. However, you could also do a garlic-ginger-parsley combo, or whatever else your heart desires. Make a little packet for the salmon with the tin-foil, lay the salmon inside and drizzle with a small amount of olive oil or a thin slice of butter. It seems like the sweet spot is about 20 minutes, but don't hesitate to check. Even if you've turned the oven off, as long as you don't stand with the door open for an excessive amount of time, it will still retain a good amount of heat.

If you're going for sides,  Some fluffy quinoa seasoned with the coriander, parsley and lemon. It should take about 20 minutes, so start it immediately after your salmon is in the oven. You can follow the package directions to prepare the quinoa, and then sprinkle the seasonings as you fluff it up.

 I'd say spaghetti squash would be another nice complement. From mid-summer to fall, you should be able to pick up smallish ones that will halve easily into two servings. Once your quinoa is rolling, scoop out the seeds and goop. Throw a little butter and salt in there, with a sprinkling of savory-sweet tarragon and parsley. Run a small amount of water in the bottom of the bowl (just big enough for your squish), put your half of squash on top, and nuke it for 7-8 minutes. That should give you enough time to check each thing in order, and plate it at a good temperature.

It's rather simple, but you'll feel better. I promise.


Tuesday, July 23, 2013

The Weekly Twitter Recap



This first one will be a catching up to the present, so it might be a bit long. Your incentive for seeing this one might be: a) it's filtered. and b) it's all in one spot. And if you're like soooome people that follow me on Twitter, I wonder if you actually sign in to Twitter.

These were the zucchini sprouts, after about a week or so. I did thin them down on their little hills, but this is just the beginning ...


I planted the string beans a good bit later, after I had already had some success in the rest of the garden. But I now understand 1) why they are called string beans (Not only are the beans themselves stringy, they send out many long leafy strings attaching to anything. And everything.) 2)Why in the heck people trellis these things. They are like children... They need structure!


Sometimes I am trying to show you what I see. With photos, I do my best to take the best shot possible while not manipulating it unnecessarily. This is one exception---where the filter adapted the photo to more of what the camera couldn't capture. 


I commented when I posted this about the lack of eggplants in the local landscape...whyever wouldn't we plant this lovely little plant. As you can see, the foliage itself has a soft color transition from a cool purple to minty green. 
I saw a pair of praying mantises hanging out on the spinach. I hear they eat mostly insects, so this is good news. Maybe they came for the beetle buffet?
These pepper plants were an unexpected gift from a friend, and neither of us expected them to grow in as nicely as they did.

Peas are pretty too! Why is it not cool to plant veggies for pretty??


 This just happened by accident, and said : summer is here.

 And you can see by comparison how large the zucchini plants have grown. To be fair, there are four of them. But they've been making foot-long fruits in no time flat.

Baby chard...Which has done very well with the heat. If you leave the central growing tip intact, they will keep putting out more leaves. Every week or so, I have 1-2 new batches of noms.

Baby spinach...When they say 'bolts in the heat' ...they meant it. Straight up, leggy as all get out, and full of tiny purple blooms. 

Balsamic Radish Slaw





When I planted zucchini and cucumbers, I had a small space left between the three hills. Looking at the back of my radish seeds, I noticed that they would come to maturity very quickly. Hopefully, they would be ready before the zucchini devoured their sunlight. I surmised correctly. What I didn't expect was for the zucchini to grow over the 36" that was recommended for them...pushing dinner plate sized leaves two feet onto the concrete patio next to the garden.




The radishes quickly produced two full bunches, part of one is still lingering in my fridge. I think the best answer is to make another round of this slaw. Each time I've made this, the slightly spicy, mild sweetness and bright balsamic have been half-eaten before they could make it to the table. In addition, it's been an excellent motivator for me to improve the rudiments of my knife skills.

If you're like me, you sometimes just want to figure out what you're going to have, and find the shortest route there. Especially, if (like me) you are the dishwasher. It doesn't seem to matter so much if dinner has a perfectly julienne-d  vegetable medley. Maybe these knife things are something we have to learn, but it is more time to spend. Chopping. Slowly. Positioning and re-positioning. Believe me, I hear you. You might think, as I did, that inconsistency has some value. While I can't entirely argue with that, I will say this.

Like an artist, we sometimes develop curious habits that define our style. For example, some of us have a hard time seeing how objects relate to each other in space---it's fine when we're looking at them, or if we want to reach for them. But when we go to draw or paint them, they float airily or space warps around them. If we can learn how and why, we can float when and where we choose. If we never learn how to choose, we're trapped forever...limited by our inconsistency.

Learning knife skills opens the door to more dishes, faster, more consistency, and better presentation. Even I can't get away with fuggalicious all the time. It is also much easier and less stressful to chop the needed ingredients, making you feel much more in control of your cooking process. I can break this down into several important elements. Firstly, choose a weapon suited to your task. Please, for the love of all that is good, stop chopping with a paring knife! Find an inexpensive 7 inch santoku, which is much less intimidating than a chef's knife. Grasp it properly in your dominant hand. Always protect your fingers on the opposite hand by keeping your fingertips curled under. I also find it quite helpful to never let the tip of the knife leave the cutting board. Finally, I am not a doctor, and these statements have not been evaluated by the FDA. I am more than happy to answer questions, too. I have a feeling that will be something to talk about more in the near future.






 Ingredients, to your taste (of course!)

1 medium size bunch of radishes, the fresher the better
1-2 medium sized carrots
1 teaspoon of shallot, finely diced
1/2 teaspoon of garlic

For the dressing:
mayo
salt
blackpepper
balsamic vinegar

In short, I sliced these radishes long-ways first, so that I could stack up the thin layers to cut again. I grated carrot directly into the bowl. Precise measurements aren't necessary here, but I estimate about a quarter of a cup. I also finely diced about a teaspoon of shallot and half as much fresh garlic. Be cautious with your garlic. In a cold dish like this, you can always add more, but you can't take it out. If you like, make the dressing in a small bowl to your taste. You don't need much here---I think I used about three tablespoons' worth. Mix mayo, a generous poinch of sea salt, a few turns of freshly ground black pepper, and a splash of balsamic. In my speak, splash means that you've put your finger over the top of the bottle so that you can control the flow. You allow your desired amount, which for me is a few shake's worth. Once you've mixed everything together, feel free to adjust to your taste. Devour.


Friday, May 10, 2013



Simple breakfast lentils: For one, easily doubled

Half a can of organic brown lentils
a teaspoon of coarse grey sea salt
a teaspoon of dry rosemary
a swirl of walnut oil ( or a bit of butter)

If you have a mortar and pestle, it will show its worth here. It will transform from a medieval looking, curious, useless paper-weight to a meal transformer in a moment.

I think I am more than normally particular about my lentils. I prefer the brown ones, for this. They must be organic vegetarian ones, rinsed thoroughly. Ignore this, and they will prove to smell like canned dog food left out on your back porch all afternoon---and inedible in this lifetime or the next. After I have rinsed them under cool running water, I let the resulting murky liquid drain into the sink. I hate waste---despise, actually. But I have found no use for this particular nonsense.

While they're draining, I turn to the mortar and pestle. I combine equal parts coarse sea salt and dried rosemary. Fresh would be adaptable, I am sure, but have not yet ventured. I am in mourning for the young rosemary pot; it was kicked over by brash neighbor children who also stepped in my spinach. Luckily the young spinach was still so tiny and elastically energetic that it bounced back in a few days. The rosemary was not so energetic. It clung, trembling, to the side of the gaping open pot. I did plant them early, and they can be restarted.

For a short explanation of my absence: My mother board died. This prompted a replacement of said motherboard, processor, and ram. If you've never put together your own "rig" (as we nerds affectionately call it), you're in for a treat. This was my first time doing much more than removing and re-inserting my video card. Or watching, bemused, as two good nerd friends were buried, arms'  deep in a PC case like some sort of butchery. It requires, in the words of one of the aforementioned nerds: "a blood sacrifice." To you, this means that the inside of your desktop is crammed together full of all sorts of pointy, stabby, and otherwise sharp corners and edges. And it is unyielding. After that, my ancient hard drives started deciding that they were either not recognizable, or used a file system which windows doesn't like. Either way, between that, final exam week at school, an exceedingly verbose house-guest, my boss leaving our store, our full timer being on military orders and general stress, I was demotivated.

But baby spinach plants, beside Sugar Daddy snow peas, and the tiniest of chards have started to bring me back. There is also this wonderful book which I've been devouring, called Heat. I believe Mr. Buford might be the only person to whom I would not have to explain my mostly vegetarian-ness (though he is certainly NOT one). At any rate, it is helping me to understand the levels to which food connects.

Anyhow, grind up the sea salt and the rosemary together. If you don't have a mortar and pestle...break up the rosemary with your fingers a bit and shake it together with the salt. Throw a generous sprinkling into the lentils, and mix them casually. You can reserve the rest of the salt for later. It has plenty of uses. I promise.  Drizzle a little bit of walnut oil or a dollop of butter on top. Microwave ( I know! Blasphemy!) for one minute and let stand briefly. You'll know why if you try to take a bite....Yes, it seems strange, but the truth is that the pan can dry out the lentils too quickly. You could use steam to heat them if you were cooking something else, I suppose...But this is breakfast we're talking about. By yourself. No one is looking, and it will be simple, and easy to clean up, and taste better than oatmeal. Or, as my inner voice calls it...goatmeal.


Thursday, January 31, 2013

Balsamic, Protein, and More


Starting where we left off last time, we'll talk about protein. It's something that often takes up one third or more of plate-space, yet for whatever reason we don't pay much attention to it. We often buy large quantities of the same chicken or ground beef cheaply, and pay little attention to sourcing. 

 The first, and most important thing is the quality of ingredients. You can make much out of relatively small amounts or simple preparation provided that what you're cooking is fresh (I mean a recent purchase, not necessarily un-frozen.) However, freezing affects the texture and sometimes the flavor of the food.
I know this is really basic stuff, but you have to start from the ground up. Also, if you're eating meat, where it comes from and what the animal ate are important. I'm not trying to beat that horse, plenty of other writers have done it better than myself. Keep in mind that on some level, you get what you pay for...and you should pay for the kind of industry that you want to see flourish. If I have learned one thing, it's that we must be the person outside that we are on the inside. If you say that you want to support small farmers and small business, you have to invest in them.

Think about different forms, too. Beans, seafood, eggs, and tofu can add a lot of variety. Beans can be the side, a tasty additive, or even smushed and seasoned into a burger. Eggs aren't just for breakfast either. If you need proof of that, take one look at their large chapter in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Fish can be extremely low maintenance while fitting in every category...fun in the form of baked fish and chips to fancy in the form of salmon en papillote.

Salt while cooking, and use sea salt if possible. I love French Grey, and babble about it ceaselessly. There is a chemical reaction that takes place while the food is cooking with the salt that can not, not, not, be done later. Don't neglect the spice cabinet. Garlic powder, and onion powder go a very long way. Cumin and coriander can be wonderful, on beef, pork, or chicken. Combining them with greek yogurt can make a marinade. Thyme, tarragon, sage, and dill are wonderful with chicken or with eggs. Basil and oregano have been traditionally put a tomato base, with beef or chicken.

I bought a bottle of balsamic, and it's definitely proven itself useful over the past weeks. I know that it's probably not the most authentic stuff, but in terms of marinating and dressing, it gets the job done. I paired it with mushroom broth, garlic powder, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, shallots, and thyme.  I soaked my extra firm tofu steaks in there before crisping them up in the pan a bit.

I'm getting back into the swing of life again, and a big part of that is cooking. Another big part is making art, and writing poetry. In time, I will be sharing some of that with you. Since we talked about the big strokes, it's time for a little application, too.