It's been awhile hasn't it? Far too long, frankly. Life just got crazy for awhile, as it tends to do, and although cooking never became any less of a passion during all that craziness, the blogging part of it sort of fell by the wayside. I even missed my one year blogiversary, which is just sad.
But, well, I'm back, and with a new challenge to keep me occupied - I've joined the Daring Cooks, the newest offshoot of the ever-popular and wildly active Daring Bakers. This is my first challenge with the group, and I think its a fitting re-entry for me into the blogging world.
The August 2009 challenge for the Daring Cooks was chosen by Olga of Las Cosas de Olga and Olga’s Recipes: Rice with Mushrooms, Cuttlefish and Artichokes. Mine used squid in place of cuttlefish, but close enough :)
This was actually a three-part challenge. The rice was only the last piece; to make and serve the rice dish required that you also make a sofregit (a slow-cooked tomato-based sauce with garlic, onions, bell peppers and mushrooms) and an allioli (a condiment made from fresh garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice).
I made the sofregit first, since it was the easiest part. I started by chopping up a couple of plum tomatoes, garlic, white onion, green bell pepper and a handful of cremini mushrooms, then just tossed everything into a skillet with some olive oil and a heavy pinch of both cumin and oregano and cooked it on low heat until everything was soft and moderately well combined. It smelled wonderful as it cooked, savory and fragrant, and the finished product was deep and rich tasting and totally delicious - I'd love to just eat it on some grilled ciabatta, perhaps with some cilantro.
The second component, the allioli, was more of a challenge. Two recipe options were provided, a traditional recipe and a "modern" recipe which was significantly more complicated and involved making something like a curd using egg yolks. I wanted to try something new so I went with the traditional method, though it required a mortar and pestle which I don't have (though its on my list of kitchen implements to buy). So, I improvised by making a paste of garlic and salt by smashing it against a cutting board with the flat of my santoku, then used an immersion blender to mix in the olive oil, lemon juice, and an egg yolk (recommended to cut the garlic flavor a bit). The allioli was more of a thin sauce than the thick paste after blending, but as it sat it thickened up and eventually reached a rather nice consistency. Not quite right based on the recipe and reference photos, but it worked well enough for the final dish.
Finally, it was time to make the rice. The dish called for artichoke hearts (I used canned because frozen are very hard to find in my area and fresh are honestly just too much work for me), mushrooms (I used creminis), and cuttlefish cut into strips (I used frozen raw squid, pre-cleaned because I've cleaned whole squid once before and I think it may have traumatized me - NOT pleasant).
The dish started with the squid sauteed in olive oil, followed by the mushrooms and artichokes (I only put in about 2.3 of the artichokes to start, because I knew the canned ones wouldn't hold the shape in the long cooking time and I wanted some actual pieces of artichoke in the finished dish) and a bay leaf. These were sauteed until the mushrooms were starting to soften and shrink and the artichokes took on some color. Then a few heavy spoonfuls of the sofregit were added to the pan and stirred around until everything was uniformly combined.
Then I added some lemon juice and red wine vinegar as a replacement for the white wine called for in the recipe (forgot to buy it - oops!) to deglaze all the yummy browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Once that liquid had mostly boiled off, I added three cups of chicken stock, a cup of arborio rice, and a heavy pinch of saffron.
Let that boil for 5 minutes, then stirred in the reserved artichokes and turned the heat to low and let it simmer until the liquid had been absorbed and the rice was tender, just a hair past al dente. I stirred in a handful of frozen sweet peas for a pop of green color and flavor, a bit of freshly cracked black pepper and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice, then removed the pan from the heat and let it sit for a few minutes so everything could settle and the last bit of liquid in the pan could be absorbed gently.
To plate, I started with a smear of the allioli on the plate and topped it with a mountain of rice on one side and a little mound of sofregit on the other. J suggested that a few spears of asparagus might have added some welcome color variance and fresh flavor to the plate, and in retrospect I think he was right. next time I do something like this I'll know to include some sort of vibrant green vegetable in the final plating.
Even without it though, this dish was delicious. The rice was surprisingly subtle in flavor, pleasantly savory with an interesting mix of textures (slightly chewy rice, meaty squid thanks to the long cooking time, tender artichokes and mushrooms, and a slight pop from the peas) and flavors (sweet, tangy, savory). The allioli was a perfect condiment, a sharp and pungent foil to the delicate rice, and the sofregit brought everything together with its rich red color and flavor. A bite of rice with a little of each condiment was damn-near perfect.
My only gripe about this dish was actually the squid, as I'm not sure I really enjoyed its texture when cooked this way. It provided an appropriate foil for the other textures of the dish, but I think I prefer my squid to be cooked very briefly so that it stays meltingly tender. If I were to make this again, I'd add the squid closer to the end so that it would retain that texture.
I'd also initially intended to make this outside on the grill (after an entirely successful experiment last week making jambalaya in this way) but was unable to due to an evening thunderstorm, and I think I'd like to try that cooking method next time. I think the slight smoky flavor imparted by cooking over charcoal would be a welcome and appropriate addition to this meal.
All things considered, though, I'd consider this meal a success, and it's been a pleasant way to get back into this blogging hobby. I'm hoping for more of a challenge next month!
In planning this meal, we referred to it as a "dim sum", despite the fact that it didn't really include any standard dim sum fare, and one of the dishes was really more Thai/Vietnamese than Chinese. (As a matter of fact, I've never even HAD dim sum. I love the idea of it, but my food allergies make me wary of any situation where I can't feel sure of what's actually in what I'm eating, and from what I've seen that has a lot to do with the dim sum experience.) Whatever you call it though, it was one of the most satisfying meals we've made in recent memory, not just because it tasted good (because it most certainly did) but because we learned how to make two new dishes that we were curious about, and finally succeeded at a dish we've been struggling with for ages.
And yes, this was totally vegetarian. We've been experimenting more with meatless meals, in an attempt to save our grocery money for the really GOOD cuts of meat, and also to cut back on the amount we eat. Although we are really good about our vegetable intake and try to severely limit the fat, sugar, and carb content of our meals, we do tend to eat more meat than is really necessary or healthy. Cutting back a bit will hardly be a challenge when we can throw together delicious vegetarian meals like this!
The first component of our dim sum was baozi, or Chinese filled steamed buns. I have never actually had baozi before, but have always thought that they sounded and looked delicious, so we finally bit the bullet and made them ourselves. Typically baozi seem to be filled with either bbq meat, soup, or sweet things like bean paste, but J made the filling for ours with shelled edamame, shiitakes, green onions, and carrots all chopped up and stir-fried in sesame oil and thin teriyaki sauce until softened and a little caramelized. The dough that I used for the wrappers was actually a naan dough from my current cookbook love, the Best-Ever Curry Cookbook by Mridula Baljekar. A typical baozi dough is much simpler, but as I was already making a batch of the dough to actually make naan later in the week I thought it would make a reasonable substitution. I added a bit of sugar and sesame oil to the portion of dough I was using for the baozi to enhance the flavor of the filling.
I had some trouble actually filling the buns - the tops didn't want to stay closed at first - but after two pseudo-failures (one of which looked fine when it went into the steamer but sort of exploded while cooking) I managed to put together two well-sealed buns. They went into the steamer for around 12 minutes and came out soft and fluffy with a lovely glossy skin. I loved the texture of these, the way the dough yields between the teeth and reveals the savory-sweet filling. I desperately want to make them with that ubiquitous char siu bbq pork filling now, though.
The second component were some vegetarian summer rolls, which couldn't be easier to make once you've had some practice rolling. I filled them with shredded carrot, bell pepper, and cabbage, cooked rice noodles tossed with soy and sesame oil, and fresh basil leaves. To make the rolls, each rice paper wrapper got a quick dunk in some warm water to soften it, then got laid out on a flat board. I laid a basil leaf flat on the wrapper, then topped it with a small pile of noodles and a tumble of shredded veggies. The actual rolling was a bit tricky, but after the first one I think I got the hang of it - its just like wrapping a burrito, except with a very flexible, sticky, and fragile wrapper. The key is definitely to roll it as tight as you can without tearing, and as long as you use a gentle touch that's fairly simple to do.
These were so light and crisp and refreshing, the perfect counterpoint to the warm and hearty baozi, and totally delicious when dunked into a dipping sauce made from sweet chili sauce, ponzu, and rice wine vinegar. I think next time I'd use bean thread noodles rather than rice noodles, because the rice noodles were a bit too firm here, and I'd like to include shredded lettuce and bean sprouts next time, but even so these were a total winner. I think the basil is what sends this over the top - the heady aroma of fresh basil is just killer alongside fresh veggies and savory soy, adding a really complex note to an otherwise straightforward little roll. I can see myself making these a lot once the weather starts to get warmer - they're just to quick and easy, and the package of wrappers I bought has a TON. I may also experiment with meat or seafood fillings - I know that shrimp or even pork can be fairly traditional, but what about a miso-glazed seared salmon, or a ground chicken satay filling? I bet I could have an entire summer roll party!
But as good as these two dishes were, the real winner of the night was J's fried rice, because this time it really WAS fried rice. I am ashamed to admit that I didn't pay very close attention to how he made it, being preoccupied by my summer rolls, but this was exactly the kind of fried rice I've always hoped to be able to make at home and have always failed at before. Pre-cooked basmati rice (I know, you'd never expect it, but this worked incredibly well) stir fried with diced carrots and onions and a handful of frozen peas, simply seasoned with just a bit of soy and black pepper, and bulked up slightly with the addition of a scrambled egg, this was unspeakably perfect. The holy grail of fried rice. The kind of fried rice I could probably eat every day and never tire of. Which is bad because, lets face it, fried rice isn't healthy. It takes a fair amount of oil to keep it from sticking to the wok in a hopelessly coagulated mess, and instead get crisp and toasty and delicious. But once in awhile, man is it worth it.
And so, J is now Fried Rice Man, and we are one step closer to making our favorite Chinese takeout meals at home. I think our next challenges will be orange/sesame/General Tso's chicken (lets face it, they're all pretty similar) and boneless spare ribs, though they may have to wait until we feel deserving of a treat. Or, you know, tomorrow.
Well, it seems fall is officially here, if this month's selections for the Barefoot Bloggers are any indication. I have to say I was thrilled to see that this Butternut Squash Risotto was on the list for October - I've been wanting to make something like this ever since I first discovered that I liked butternut squash (perhaps 3 years ago) but we make risotto maybe once a year, and J's really not a fan of winter squash so this one never made it onto the to-make list.
But, conveniently, J was out this evening, attending opening night for the New Jersey Devils with a friend (and man, am I jealous...) so I had the perfect opportunity to make this dish all for myself.
For the most part, I stayed true to Ina's original recipe. I wouldn't be me, though, if I didn't make a couple small changes. First, as usual, I halved the recipe. I added a few extra seasonings along the way (most notably garlic) because it felt necessary. I had to omit the saffron because I forgot that I was out and didn't buy more, and didn't realize this fact until I was gathering my ingredients tonight. Doh! Same goes for the shallots, which I subbed with red onions because, much like the last BB recipe, I realized belatedly that we'd used all of our shallots in the previous evening's dinner. Also the parmesan, which I subbed with 1-year-aged manchego because I had it in the house and I thought its nuttiness would complement the autumnal flavors in the finished dish. And the white wine, which I subbed with a mix of lemon juice and red wine vinegar - may sound weird but added a really wonderful tangy undertone to the finished risotto that I happen to love. I also cut way back on he butter, because I just don't think there's any need for even 4 tablespoons of butter in my halved version - 1 did the job just fine.
Actually, I guess I made a lot of changes... but, I'm getting ahead of myself.
The first step in the recipe is to cube up some fresh butternut squash and roast it. I think this was the most difficult part of the whole process, honestly - cutting butternut squash is HARD. Its really dense and hard, and even using our heaviest and sharpest chef's knife I really had to lean on it to get through the squash. I ended up using just the thinner "neck" portion of the squash for this, saving the round base for another as-yet-undefined use. Peeling was easier than I'd expected, and once I'd gotten the big piece halved it was a lot easier to cut up the rest of the way. I made rather smaller cubes than Ina specified, because I didn't really want massive chunks of squash in the finished risotto - they were probably closer to 1/2" cubes than 3/4".
The cubes went into a foil-lined baking dish and got tossed with some olive oil, a sprinkling of salt and pepper, and a bit of garlic and sage for some extra flavor. Then it was into 400 degree oven for about 20 mins while I got some of the other prep work done.
First, the easy step - putting some chicken stock on the stove to heat up. Then the slightly-harder-but-really-nothing-resembling-a-challenge step of dicing up some red onion, garlic, and pancetta.
Slight aside, but I love the way pancetta looks. I love the spiral pattern of the slices, and then striated white and red layers when you cut into it.... its one of those ingredients that looks lovely just as it is, with no adornment.
Anyway, at this point I looked in on the squash and decided that it was just about soft enough, but I wanted it to be a little more browned, so I switched the oven from bake to broil for about 5 mins - that way they came out soft and golden brown and slightly crispy on the outside, sort of like roasted potatoes. I ended up snitching quite a few cubes while I was cooking because they were insanely tasty just as they were.
Once the squash was out of the oven, it was time to start the risotto.
I got a tablespoon or so of butter melting in a large saucepan, then added the pancetta cubes and let them render slowly over medium-low heat to bring out their tasty fats and crisp the cubes. Ina's recipe has you add the pancetta and shallots (or in my case, onions) at the same time and just leave them all in the pan while the risotto cooks, but I knew that'd just make the pancetta chewy. So instead I did added this rendering step, then removed the cubes from the pot and tossed them in with the squash cubes to add later - this way, they'd stay somewhat crisp in the finished dish.
The onions and garlic got added to the melted butter and rendered pancetta-fat and stirred around until they were softened and just a bit golden around the edges. Then, in went the rice, which was also stirred around until the outer layer of each grain turned translucent.
I deglazed the pan with an equal mix of lemon juice and red wine vinegar, about 1/4 cup total, and cooked until the liquid had almost entirely evaporated. Then I added my first ladleful of stock.
And this is where the magic of risotto happens. From Wikipedia:
"The rice is first cooked briefly in butter or olive oil to coat each grain in a film of fat, this is called tostatura; white wine is added and has to be absorbed by the grains. When it has evaporated, the heat is raised to medium high and very hot stock is gradually added in small amounts while stirring gently and almost constantly: stirring loosens the starch molecules from the outside of the rice grains into the surrounding liquid, creating a smooth creamy-textured liquid." More...
So, I spent the next half-hour adding hot stock to the risotto one ladleful at a time, stirring not constantly, but often enough to be sure the liquid was moving around the individual grains of rice and nothing was sticking.
While that was going on, I went ahead and grated some manchego so it'd be ready to toss in at the end.
Finally, all the stock had been added and the risotto was cooked, creamy and barely al dente. I took the pot off the heat and stirred in the grated cheese, roasted squash, and crispy pancetta. Spoon onto a serving dish, top with some extra cheese, and its time to eat!
Oh. My. God.
This was good. Terribly good. Wide-eyed-back-of-the-throat-moaning good. Rich and creamy, highly flavorful, savory and ever-so-slightly tangy, with shots of slight sweetness from the pieces of squash and saltiness from the pancetta. This was the best risotto I've ever made, by far, and easily the best thing I've put in my mouth since last week's visit to the North Fork (more on that later). And I almost think that J might like it, as the squash flavor itself wasn't really that strong.
It is, however, VERY rich - I was only able to eat a small bowl for dinner, and had to put the rest away for probably at least two more meals. I definitely think its best eaten as a side, perhaps with a green salad or a simple herbed chicken breast, or some roasted vegetables. I'd actually intended to make some roasted brussels sprouts to have with, but I forgot, and its just as well because I couldn't have eaten them with the amount of risotto I dished out for myself.
Not the healthiest dinner in the world, but definitely delicious... and one of the things I love about risotto is that although it looks and tastes decadent and horribly fatty, when it comes down to it, its really not that bad in terms of fat content. A bit of butter and olive oil (the way I make it anyway, which I guess is significantly lighter than s traditional), and the fat from the pancetta - that's it.
I may just have to bring this out at the holidays this year - I think it'd be popular at Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, and it'd certainly impress the hell out of either of our families. ;)
UPDATE: J tried some of my leftovers last night as a late-night snack, and he loved it so much he ate it all! (Though I did manage to snitch a couple bites myself.) I guess this one really is a keeper. Plus, I now understand that the only application of butternut squash that he's had is halved and roasted squash, which is apparently what he doesn't like, and he's open to trying it in other ways. I think we'll have to use the rest of the squash a side one night this week and see if I can change his mind about it.
Iavarone Bros., the specialty Italian grocery store where we do the bulk of our weekly shopping, has been carrying some absolutely gorgeous sushi-grade tuna steaks every week for the past couple months, and every single time we're there I gaze longingly at them, consider buying one, then glance at the price tag before shaking my head mournfully and walking away. But this week I vowed that we would have one for dinner, and I kept my promise, walking resolutely up to that fish counter with head held high and declaring that I would have on of their fine sushi-grade tuna steaks, please. And then the fishmonger handed over that parcel of pure culinary gold, and all pretense of sophistication disappeared as I skipped off to present J with our newest treasure, giggling maniacally.
This, my friends, was some truly beautiful fish.
What a shame that I didn't think to snap a photo before it was cooked. It was about a 3/4 lb steak, all deep red and semi translucent, just barely marbled, firm but ever so slightly soft to the touch, practically glowing with fishy goodness.
For once I really took my time on this meal, being careful to time things correctly so that everything would be done just when the fish was medium-rare and slightly cooled from a brief rest after cooking in the fridge. I kept things simple so that the flavor of the fish would really show through, and paid special attention to things like complimentary textures and temperatures. And my, oh my did it pay off. I don't like to toot my own horn too much, but honestly, to me this rivaled anything I'd ever had at a restaurant. The fish was tender and buttery with a delightfully crisp and crunchy exterior from a generous coating of white and black sesame seeds, and especially flavorful from a brief marinade in soy sauce, mirin, sesame oil and black pepper. Sticky jasmine rice seemed to be the obvious pairing for such perfect fish, and a quick stir fry of simply seasoned, still-crisp veggies rounded out the plate quite nicely. This was a truly special meal, one worth savoring. And a good thing too, because I doubt I'll be shelling out the cash for one of these babies again anytime soon, however much I might like to. :(
Check it out, I finally got a tripod and set up my light box at home, and I really think my photos are coming out much better now. I still have to get the lighting and backdrop right, but at least they aren't blurry and washed out anymore!
Sesame-crusted Tuna Steak with Jasmine Rice and Vegetable Stir Fry
Tuna of this high quality really should never be cooked above medium rare, and rare is really preferable. Cooking it all the way through would completely ruin the nuance of flavor and velvety texture of the fish in its raw state. Honestly, I only cooked it at all because although I enjoy raw tuna as sushi or sashimi, I can rarely eat much of it, and I just loved the contrast of crisp, cooked exterior to meltingly soft interior. Best of both worlds, if you ask me. But please, if you can't handle raw fish, give this dish a pass, because I can pretty much guarantee that you won't like it cooked well-done, either. Stick to tuna salad, in that case.
1 sushi-grade tuna loin steak, about 1 inch thick and about 3/4-1lb in weight marinade: 1/2 cup soy sauce, 2 tbsp mirin, 1 tbsp sesame oil, 1 tsp honey, 1/2 tsp black pepper 1/4 cup each black and white sesame seeds 2 tbsp vegetable oil (we use safflower)
Combine the marinade ingredients in a shallow bowl, whisking gently with a fork to ensure that the honey dissolves and everything combines evenly. Place the tuna steak in the bowl and turn over a couple of times to coat all sides in the marinade. Cover with plastic wrap and let stand no longer than 30 minutes, flipping halfway through.
Remove the fish from the marinade and gently pat dry with a paper towel. Combine the white and black sesame seeds on a large plate. Lay the fish on the plate and press gently into the seeds, then flip to cover the opposite side. Use your hands to carefully press the seeds onto the fish to ensure they will stick. Transfer to a clean plate and set aside while you prepare to cook.
Heat a cast iron or other heavy-bottomed skillet over high heat until a drop of water dances across the surface and evaporates rapidly. Add the vegetable oil and let stand for just a few seconds to heat, then very carefully add the fish (watch out, it'll sizzle pretty aggressively and some of the seeds may pop). Cook without moving in the pan for approximately 3 minutes. Keep your eye on the sides of the steak: when you see the flesh of the fish start to darken and turn an opaque brownish-grey about 1/4 inch from the bottom, its time to flip. Carefully slide a thin spatula beneath the flesh and flip, using your fingers to help stabilize it. Cook for another 2-3 minutes or until cooked to the same degree as the first side - again, watch the sides of the steak to determine how far its cooked. You want the majority of the steak to remain red and uncooked in the middle.
At this point you should remove the fish to a plate (you can use the same one as before, it wont hurt anything) and place in the fridge or even the freezer to stop it from continuing to cook from residual heat. Let cool for 5-10 minutes before serving.
To serve, slice the steak into 1/4 inch thick slices with a very sharp knife (if you're eating with chopsticks) or simply divide the steak into two even portions (if you prefer a knife and fork - trust me though, go for the chopsticks. Its infinitely more fun and satisfying.). Serve over cooked jasmine rice (plain or seasoned with rice wine vinegar, soy sauce, and/or sesame seeds/oil) with a crisp vegetable stir fry as accompaniment (we chose a mix of julienned broccoli stems, green bell peppers, baby carrots, onions, and sugar snap peas) and garnish with a drizzle of soy and a scattering of fresh-chopped scallions.
(For an extra treat, nibble on a handful of Wasabi-Soy Roasted Almonds for a highly addictive and tongue-tingling pre-dinner nosh! Peanut-free nuts FTW!)
I've been a little absent from the blogosphere this week. I'm sorry. Its way too early in the game here at "Table for Two?" for me to disappear for 6 days straight, and I apologize. I'll try not to let it happen again but, well, you know how it is. Life gets in the way sometimes.
That being said, there are a couple of legitimate reasons for my neglect. The first is that the Olympics started last Friday, and I've been watching them just about every night. I've been looking forward to the games for months, and there's been some really great stuff going on this year (Michael Phelps, anyone?) and I just don't want to miss a minute of it if I can avoid it.
The second is that we naively planned a couple of positively epic meals this week, and when we spend 2-3 hours making dinner after a full day of work, its all I can do to sit in front of the boob tube for an hour or so of Olympics coverage afterwards before passing out for the night.
This week did, however, yield quite a few valuable learning experiences which I'd like to pass on.
Mmmm. Melty Mexican goodness.
Lesson #1 Enchilada sauce, or red chili sauce, is shockingly easy to make at home, and tastes SO much better than the canned, store-bought variety that I've always used. J actually made the sauce this first time around, and although he used Emeril's recipe as a jumping-off point, he changed enough as he went along to render the original probably nearly unrecognizable. The end result? Pretty much what I would consider the perfect enchilada sauce: rich, savory, and tangy, with just a bit of warmth from some dried chilis. Poured under and over whole grain tortillas wrapped around smoked pulled pork and black beans, it yielded what J called "the best enchiladas EVAR" but I'll leave the details for a separate post.
Lesson #2 Cleaning your own squid is an absolutely monstrous job, and not at all pleasant. More importantly, its a hell of an undertaking for a weeknight. I don't think we ate dinner until after 9pm that night, and when you're used to eating dinner closer to 7:30pm, that is a seriously late meal.
I volunteered to do the squid-cleaning first, and I have to admit that my knee-jerk revulsion to handling shellfish innards (and having my fingers anywhere near a dead creatures eyes) lessened significantly after the first 2 or 3. I managed to get through about 8 before deciding I'd had enough, and passing the torch to J to finish up. Of course that meant he ended up doing almost twice as many as I did (the package we bought had a shockingly large number of whole squid in it) but he was graciously silent about the clearly unfair division of labor. I think I owe him a 6-pack or something for that.
We cleaned out all the bodies (or tubes) so that we could stuff them with a mixture of veggies and breadcrumbs, then bake them in a basic tomato sauce. The tentacles ended up getting discarded because, frankly, they just didn't look that good after being frozen and thawed. But of course, what you really want to know is, was it worth it?
No. Not at all. Never mind the fact that the plate of food up there will never win any beauty awards. It just didn't taste that good. The sauce and the stuffing, taken individually, were delicious. And being that we based it on one of Mario Batali's recipes, I'm not surprised. But the squid itself? Meh. Not impressed. I do think it was cooked just about right, as the finished product had a texture somewhat like al dente pasta. However, I'm used to squid being relatively non-fishy, and this was definitely fishy. I'm not sure if that's because it had been frozen whole and then thawed, or if we just didn't do a thorough-enough job of cleaning it (I suspect the latter, because some pieces were significantly more fishy than others) but quite frankly, I couldn't finish it. It was dsappointing, to say the least, and not something we'll be repeating anytime soon.
Now we've got a bag of about a dozen squid tubes in the freezer that we'll need to use up, though. I'm thinking we'll probably just fry them up at some point. Not anytime soon - I've got some mental scarring from this first fresh-squid encounter that needs to heal before I even look at it again - but eventually.
Lesson 3 Those little mini-springform pans I bought on my birthday are every bit as awesome as I expected them to be. I used them this week to make these delicious single-serving broccoli quiches, and they were really the perfect size for dinner when paired with some sauteed snow peas. The quiches rose in the oven and then held their form perfectly when removed from the pans, and were just perfectly cooked. I can't wait to find more uses for them.
Lesson 4 Sometimes, just sometimes, you want something simple. Something comforting. Something that fills your belly and warms your soul without breaking the bank. Something like... franks and beans. Or as J calls them, beanie weenies (*gigglesnort*). However, just because you're making a dish that your father made for you for dinner in grade school, doesn't mean you can't make it spectacular. We had this deceptively simple meal one night this week and made it amazing by making the baked beans from scratch, using dry beans that were soaked overnight and then cooked for a looooong time (over 12 hours) in the crock pot while we were at work. As a pleasant counterpoint to the squid fiasco, this made for a quick and easy dinner once we got home - all we had to do was crisp up the hot dogs a bit and then toast a couple of hot dog rolls in the rendered fat to have a supremely satisfying and surprisingly delicious dinner.
You know you want some of this. C'mon, don't try to hide it.
Even more surprising is that this particular dish was really not that bad for you - if you skip the bread-toasted-in-hot-dog-fat part, the franks and beans themselves have no added fat (helped along by that pre-cooking step with the dogs). There's a fair amount of sugar though, so diabetics may want to keep away from this sort of dish. The rest of you? Go get some beans soaking. Because I can guarantee there'll be a day this week when you won't want to cook, and this bowl of hot, hearty goodness is sure to soothe you after even the most difficult day.
Lesson 5 I still can't make fried rice. I tried my hand at a thai-style vegetarian fried rice on Thursday, and although it was basically ok, it just wasn't quite right. I'm pretty sure I overcooked the rice the night before, so it was a little too sticky and mushy when I tried to stir fry it, and fried rice just shouldn't be mushy, ever. I also think I used too much fish sauce in the seasoning, because the flavor was just a bit too prominent for me to really enjoy the dish. The basic premise was good, and the bites that got a piece of fresh tomato or pineapple were really delicious, but I couldn't quite finish my serving. J loved it, which I'm glad of, but I just know I could make it better if I could just get the rice part of it right.
Lesson 6 Rabbit is delicious. Also, "deconstructed" dishes are a ton of fun. But, I'll leave those details for my next post.
Bonus Lesson: My photography SUCKS. Its virtually impossible to take decent photos in this dim-as-hell basement apartment. Normally I enjoy the gentle lighting we've got going on down here, but its not at all conducive to taking attractive photos of our dinners. I've really gotta work on that lightbox...
By day, I (Eri) am a graphic/web designer who manages the web content and design group at a local private university, and J is a physicist and mathematician who manages the quality-control department of a small lasers company.
But when we come home at night, we give reign to our secret identities: two self-taught amateur chefs with perhaps an unhealthy obsession with food, drink, and making merry, living and learning together in the kitchen of our big basement apartment on Long Island.
Who says living a double life is hard?
About the Recipes
J and I have the luxury of using a pretty large kitchen to cook in, but, well, there's only two of us, and we're not always that good about using up leftovers. As such, unless its indicated otherwise, all recipes posted here are meant to serve two people (hence the name - get it?). Don't worry if you've got a family of four or a party of even more to feed, though - most should scale up pretty easily.
Also, we are borderline militant about making as much as we can at home, from scratch, rather than buying pre-made, pre-packaged, pre-processed convenience foods from the store - we believe its healthier, tastier, and more rewarding to make things ourselves. That being said, many of our meals could be made much more quickly and easily by substituting store-bought versions of certain elements for our homemade ingredients. Don't worry, I won't hold it against you if you decide to go that route. Not much, anyway.