I love rice, and sometimes I can make it turn out fluffy and perfect.
Sometimes.
For me, cooking consistently perfect rice has been the Holy Grail of cooking. Now, thanks to this method, I drink from the sacred challis of knowledge while feasting on separate, fluffy grains of rice. I learned this no-fail, pasta preparation-like technique from The America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook, and now it's my preferred method. (I've used a lot of cookbooks, and this is one of my all-time favorites! Check it out from your local library and see if you don't fall in love with it, too.)
White Rice
3-4 qts. water
1 Tbsp. salt
Uncooked rice
It really is like cooking pasta! The beauty of it is that with this large amount of water, you don't have to measure your rice exactly; just dump in a random amount (about 1 or 2 cups...ish), and it will turn out fine. But beware: it is all too easy to make way more rice than you need.
Bring water to a boil in a large pot. Add salt, then add rice. Wait for reboil, then cook 12-15 minutes, or until rice is as tender as you like, stirring occasionally. Drain in a wire mesh sieve.
Showing posts with label Side Dishes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Side Dishes. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Refried Beans
I am always repulsed by the refried beans from the can. I mean, I love the flavor, but there's something about prying the strangely-gelatinous pink mass from its metal home that sets me ill-at-ease. Perhaps it looks too much like pet food? Or perhaps it just smells too much like pet food? The sad thing is that I LOVE the taste of refried beans. And I LOVE bean dip, especially out at a restaurant. But are my options really that I have to go to a restaurant to get good refried beans or tolerate the glop from a can? There must be a better way.
So one Saturday morning, I happen to catch America's Test Kitchen on PBS. THey were making huevos rancheros, I believe, and were having the same bean trouble I was. So they figured out how to make refried beans at home without having to first cook the beans and all that. It was quick, easy, and according to them, it was much tastier than the tin-can counterpart. I thought it was worth a try.
Of course, I used their recipe as a guideline, but didn't have all of the ingredients they called for. So with some improvisation, this is what I came up with. I've made it several times since then, and I come dangerously close to gluttony when I have a warm bowl of these beans and some good tortilla chips.
Give it a try--you might be surprised!!
Refried Beans
1 lg. can pinto beans, drained, liquid reserved
1 small onion, diced finely
4 strips of bacon (OR 1-2 Tbsp. bacon fat, if you've got some)
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 4 oz. can green chilies, chopped as finely as desired
1 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. Kosher salt (or to taste)
In a saute pan over medium heat, render the fat from the bacon. Then eat the bacon, leaving the fat in the pan. Cooking does have its perks! To the drippings, add the onion, and saute until it begins to soften. Then add the chilies and garlic, and also the cumin and salt. Saute until fragrant, about a minute or two.
Meanwhile, toss the pinto beans into a food processor or blender, then add the onion/chile mixture on top. Pulse until the beans are as smooth as you like them, adding the reserved liquid until they're your preferred consistency.
Heat olive oil in that same saute pan, and transfer beans to warm pan. Cook over medium high heat until warmed through, just to combine flavors.
Sit down in a comfy chair with these beans and a fresh bag of tortilla chips and sigh contentedly. Then consume the whole bowl. Makes about 2 cups.
ALTERNATELY, you can use these in a Mexican layer dip, or spooned over deluxe nachos, or tucked inside tacos and burritos...I'm just saying, the possibilities are practically endless.
So one Saturday morning, I happen to catch America's Test Kitchen on PBS. THey were making huevos rancheros, I believe, and were having the same bean trouble I was. So they figured out how to make refried beans at home without having to first cook the beans and all that. It was quick, easy, and according to them, it was much tastier than the tin-can counterpart. I thought it was worth a try.
Of course, I used their recipe as a guideline, but didn't have all of the ingredients they called for. So with some improvisation, this is what I came up with. I've made it several times since then, and I come dangerously close to gluttony when I have a warm bowl of these beans and some good tortilla chips.
Give it a try--you might be surprised!!
Refried Beans
1 lg. can pinto beans, drained, liquid reserved
1 small onion, diced finely
4 strips of bacon (OR 1-2 Tbsp. bacon fat, if you've got some)
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 4 oz. can green chilies, chopped as finely as desired
1 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. Kosher salt (or to taste)
In a saute pan over medium heat, render the fat from the bacon. Then eat the bacon, leaving the fat in the pan. Cooking does have its perks! To the drippings, add the onion, and saute until it begins to soften. Then add the chilies and garlic, and also the cumin and salt. Saute until fragrant, about a minute or two.
Meanwhile, toss the pinto beans into a food processor or blender, then add the onion/chile mixture on top. Pulse until the beans are as smooth as you like them, adding the reserved liquid until they're your preferred consistency.
Heat olive oil in that same saute pan, and transfer beans to warm pan. Cook over medium high heat until warmed through, just to combine flavors.
Sit down in a comfy chair with these beans and a fresh bag of tortilla chips and sigh contentedly. Then consume the whole bowl. Makes about 2 cups.
ALTERNATELY, you can use these in a Mexican layer dip, or spooned over deluxe nachos, or tucked inside tacos and burritos...I'm just saying, the possibilities are practically endless.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Greeky Greek Roasted Potatoes
Every September, we plan a day at the fair. Abe takes the afternoon off from work, and we head out to see the animal barns, ride rides, and eat lots of yummy fair food. Ah, fair food. You can have the animal barns and rides, and I'd still show up for onion rings, elephant ears, and cotton candy. And french fries. And those lemonade shake-ups that are so grossly overpriced. There is a point, though, where you have to say THAT'S ENOUGH with the fair food, and this year, I hit that point early. I began to feel a bit eck from all of the sugar and grease, and I knew I needed something that more closely resembled actual food. I headed over to the Greek food vendor for a roasted chicken gyro, which was oh-so-delicious and made me feel much better. But the wonder of wonders that emerged from that foot cart was Greek Potatoes. They were "broasted," and topped with a butter/garlic/oregano sauce that completely made my year. Of course, even as I was stuffing my face with these tasty spuds, I was plotting to re-create them at home.
One thing I did want to change, though, was the deep-fried nature of these potatoes. I thought they'd be even tastier roasted--less greasy, more potatoey--and I was right. Tossed with all of the other Greeky ingredients, these roasted up to be tender, yummy gems. An added bonus: they were so easy...and infinitely cheaper than buying them at the fair!
Greeky Greek Potatoes
5 small/medium potatoes (I used russets, but yukon golds would be KILLER)
1 1/2 Tbsp. lemon juice
3 Tbsp. olive oil
2 Tbsp.melted butter
1 Tbsp. dried oregano
1 tsp. garlic powder
2 garlic cloves, pressed or minced
Kosher salt
Ground pepper
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Scrub potatoes and cut into 1-inch pieces. Combine lemon juice, olive oil, butter, oregano, garlic powder, and garlic, and pour over potatoes. Toss to make sure potatoes are coated, then season with salt and pepper as desired. Roast for 35-40 minutes, or until potatoes are tender and browned, stirring occasionally to make sure the potatoes are covered in the flavorful oil mixture!
One thing I did want to change, though, was the deep-fried nature of these potatoes. I thought they'd be even tastier roasted--less greasy, more potatoey--and I was right. Tossed with all of the other Greeky ingredients, these roasted up to be tender, yummy gems. An added bonus: they were so easy...and infinitely cheaper than buying them at the fair!
Greeky Greek Potatoes
5 small/medium potatoes (I used russets, but yukon golds would be KILLER)
1 1/2 Tbsp. lemon juice
3 Tbsp. olive oil
2 Tbsp.melted butter
1 Tbsp. dried oregano
1 tsp. garlic powder
2 garlic cloves, pressed or minced
Kosher salt
Ground pepper
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Scrub potatoes and cut into 1-inch pieces. Combine lemon juice, olive oil, butter, oregano, garlic powder, and garlic, and pour over potatoes. Toss to make sure potatoes are coated, then season with salt and pepper as desired. Roast for 35-40 minutes, or until potatoes are tender and browned, stirring occasionally to make sure the potatoes are covered in the flavorful oil mixture!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Spicy Orzo
A girl I know had cravings for Long John Silvers' hush puppies when she was pregnant. Ordinarily, this wouldn't seem odd. But she had, in fact, never eaten a hush puppy before in her life, so the sudden desire for them was inexplicable. It turned out that she loved them. Go figure.
I am no longer pregnant, but I can totally relate with the inexplicable-craving phenomenon. I once craved sweet-n-sour sauce even though I'd never had it before, and I, too, loved it. It was as if my taste buds had become ready for it and let me know when it was time. A similar thing happened with this dish: I woke up one morning craving orzo. I'd had orzo before, and all it is is rice-shaped pasta, so it was strange that I would crave orzo and not a pasta more familiar to me, like farfalle or rotini. But there it was: I HAD TO HAVE orzo.
Wouldn't you know it? I couldn't find orzo anywhere. I didn't think it was that uncommon of an item until I was craving it and couldn't find it in any store I visited. I even visited stores I don't usually frequent in the hope that they would carry these tiny little bits of pasta that were driving me slowly insane. They didn't.
Then some WEEKS later, when the craving had subsided, I was making my routine pass through the pasta aisle, and there they were, plain as day. Maybe they had been there all the time. I will never know. But I was still ready for them, so I purchased three boxes. I didn't want to be caught craving them with no recourse.
I still didn't know what I wanted to do with the orzo, but garlic sounded good. And butter. And my garden was exploding with basil; that sounded pretty good, too. And you know what else? Heat. Heat sounded good. When all is said and done, this recipe is probably closer to authentic Aglio e Olio than my actual Aglio e Olio recipe. But I think it works better here in this application with orzo than it would with any other pasta. The resulting dish is creamy, reminiscent of a risotto, with a lot of heat and flavor. AND it only takes about 12 minutes to make! Now, not only is the original orzo-something-or-other craving satisfied, but I've created a new item for me to crave. Let's get started, shall we?
Spicy Orzo
3 Tbsp. butter
2 cloves garlic, pressed or very finely chopped
1/8-1/4 tsp. dried red pepper flakes (depending on your preferred heat level)
ground black pepper
1 1/2 c. uncooked orzo
2 c. chicken stock or broth
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 c. finely chopped fresh basil, or 1 Tbsp dried basil
Melt butter in a saucepan and add garlic, dried red pepper flakes, black pepper, and he dried basil (if using--if you're using fresh, WAIT.). Saute over low-ish medium heat for about 30 seconds, just to infuse the butter with the flavors, then add the orzo. Saute for about 2 minutes, stirring frequently.
Slowly pour the chicken stock into the orzo mixture, and bring to a boil. After it comes to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer, uncovered, for about 8 minutes, or until the stock is nearly absorbed and orzo is tender, stirring occasionally.
Remove from the heat, stir in parmesan and fresh basil (if using), and serve immediately. You may add a tablespoon or two of olive oil if you wish to keep the grains more separate or don't plan to serve it in the next three minutes.
Serves 4 as a side dish.
I am no longer pregnant, but I can totally relate with the inexplicable-craving phenomenon. I once craved sweet-n-sour sauce even though I'd never had it before, and I, too, loved it. It was as if my taste buds had become ready for it and let me know when it was time. A similar thing happened with this dish: I woke up one morning craving orzo. I'd had orzo before, and all it is is rice-shaped pasta, so it was strange that I would crave orzo and not a pasta more familiar to me, like farfalle or rotini. But there it was: I HAD TO HAVE orzo.
Wouldn't you know it? I couldn't find orzo anywhere. I didn't think it was that uncommon of an item until I was craving it and couldn't find it in any store I visited. I even visited stores I don't usually frequent in the hope that they would carry these tiny little bits of pasta that were driving me slowly insane. They didn't.
Then some WEEKS later, when the craving had subsided, I was making my routine pass through the pasta aisle, and there they were, plain as day. Maybe they had been there all the time. I will never know. But I was still ready for them, so I purchased three boxes. I didn't want to be caught craving them with no recourse.
I still didn't know what I wanted to do with the orzo, but garlic sounded good. And butter. And my garden was exploding with basil; that sounded pretty good, too. And you know what else? Heat. Heat sounded good. When all is said and done, this recipe is probably closer to authentic Aglio e Olio than my actual Aglio e Olio recipe. But I think it works better here in this application with orzo than it would with any other pasta. The resulting dish is creamy, reminiscent of a risotto, with a lot of heat and flavor. AND it only takes about 12 minutes to make! Now, not only is the original orzo-something-or-other craving satisfied, but I've created a new item for me to crave. Let's get started, shall we?
Spicy Orzo
3 Tbsp. butter
2 cloves garlic, pressed or very finely chopped
1/8-1/4 tsp. dried red pepper flakes (depending on your preferred heat level)
ground black pepper
1 1/2 c. uncooked orzo
2 c. chicken stock or broth
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 c. finely chopped fresh basil, or 1 Tbsp dried basil
Melt butter in a saucepan and add garlic, dried red pepper flakes, black pepper, and he dried basil (if using--if you're using fresh, WAIT.). Saute over low-ish medium heat for about 30 seconds, just to infuse the butter with the flavors, then add the orzo. Saute for about 2 minutes, stirring frequently.
Slowly pour the chicken stock into the orzo mixture, and bring to a boil. After it comes to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer, uncovered, for about 8 minutes, or until the stock is nearly absorbed and orzo is tender, stirring occasionally.
Remove from the heat, stir in parmesan and fresh basil (if using), and serve immediately. You may add a tablespoon or two of olive oil if you wish to keep the grains more separate or don't plan to serve it in the next three minutes.
Serves 4 as a side dish.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Naan (Indian Flatbread)
Generally speaking, I like to prepare things that my husband will enjoy eating. The kids, after all, are at that stage where they don't really care about food enjoyment--if it's not candy, it's only good to sustain life. (Unless we're talking about McNuggets, which is a different story.) Anyway, I happen to know that one of my husband's all-time favorite sandwiches is a Chicken Pesto sandwich from a local restaurant. I've had the sandwich, and it's good, but it's basic--nothing that couldn't be re-created at home. So this week, I sought out to do that very thing.
The sandwich consists of grilled chicken, pesto, salad greens, and diced tomatoes (which my husband skips), all sandwiched between two pieces of flatbread. Well, grilled chicken is easy enough. Salad greens? Just snip some from the garden. As for pesto? Well, see this other post. I added thin slices of fresh mozzarella, and sliced tomatoes (for me and for the kids), because you can't go wrong with the mozzarella/tomato/pesto combination. That left the flatbread.
I didn't want to purchase flatbread because HELLO, have you seen the prices on that sort of thing? Besides, how hard can it be to make? I remembered a recipe I had tried back in the day from a very old Fleischman's Yeast promotional recipe booklet--called "Arab Bread," it was the nearest thing I've ever had to a flatbread I ate while on a missions trip to the Dominican Republic in high school. It was good, but I thought that it might be a bit too thick and dense for a sandwich. Then I thought of Naan. I'd seen it in the grocery store, and I knew that it is traditionally served with Indian cuisine (which I don't like). It looked thin, but substantial enough to hold together for a sandwich--in short, perfect for this application. The main drawback, again, was that it was so blooming expensive, I couldn't justify purchasing it. I'd have to try to make it.
I went online to Allrecipes.com, my go-to for recipe basics, and sorted Naan recipes by rating. The recipe I chose to try was the highest rated recipe, which even readers from Naan-eating countries deemed closest to the real thing. I made the dough on Tuesday for Grilled Pizza and liked it so much, I made it again on Thursday for my Grilled Chicken Pesto Sandwiches. The long and the short of it is this: Abe actually thought this sandwich was better than its restaurant-originated counterpart, due in large part to the bread. As a matter of fact, as I was finishing up this post, Abe came home from work, rummaged furiously through the fridge and asked, "Do we have any more of that bread??"
I do not take a compliment from Abe very lightly. This recipe is a keeper! It's also EASY, even if you don't have a mixer suitable for making bread--the dough is very soft and pliable, very easy to work with. And the cooking time is brief--the bread cooks on the stove top, so there's no need to heat your oven or your house. For me, this is a big plus in summertime! So there you have it. I don't like Indian food, except for Naan. Please give this wonderful flatbread a try! It's super for sandwiches, for grilled pizza, or just for eating with spreads like hummus, if you like that sort of thing. Go forth with confidence.
Note: I've just looked over the instructions, and man, am I WORDY. But read through it, and you'll see that even though I used a lot of words to describe the process, it's still really simple. Don't be put off my my inability to self-edit.
Naan
adapted from Allrecipes.com
1 pkg. yeast (approx. 2 1/4 tsp)
1 c. warm water
1/4 c. sugar, divided (1 Tbsp. and 3 Tbsp.)
3 Tbsp. milk
1 egg, beaten
2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
approx. 4 1/2 c. bread flour*
melted butter
1 tsp. garlic powder
In a large mixing bowl, mix together the warm water and the sugar. Sprinkle yeast over surface of water to moisten, and wait about 5-10 minutes for it to "proof," or get foamy. If it doesn't get foamy, try again--this means your yeast has DIED. RIP.
In the meantime, whisk together the milk and the egg. Combine the remaining 3 Tbsp. sugar, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl. When the yeast is done proofing, dump in the milk mixture and combine, then dump in the sugar mixture, and stir to combine. Then begin adding flour. *I don't even measure the flour at this point, because the important thing is just to add in flour until the mixture forms a dough and pulls away from the side of the bowl. I seriously doubt I use 4 1/2 cups, as the recipe calls for, but you'll want to have this much on hand just in case, I suppose.
When you've stirred in as much flour as it will incorporate, knead the dough a few times on the counter just to get it smooth and not sticky. Transfer to an oiled bowl and turn to coat (or just brush it with a little oil). Let it rise in a warm, draft-free place for about 1 hour, or until it's doubled in size. [I like to fill a 2 c. measuring cup with water and bring it to a boil in the microwave, then put the dough into the micro. with the hot water, and let it rise there--using this method, I only let it rise 45 minutes, and it's already doubled]
After it has doubled, turn it out on a floured countertop and flatten it, then divide it into 6-8 pieces (depending on how large you want your bread). Shape the pieces into balls, spray with a bit of oil or non-stick spray, and cover loosely with plastic wrap. Let rise for about 30 minutes.
Right before you're ready to cook the bread, melt the butter and mix in the garlic powder.
Now, the fun part: heat up a griddle or a large non-stick skillet to medium-high heat. Stretch your dough into flatbreads--make them very thin, because they'll puff up quite a bit! Toss the bread right onto the griddle or pan, cook for about 2-3 minutes, then flip, and cook for 2-3 more. Most of the dough will still be very light in color, but it will have darker spots where it bubbled and had contact with the pan. Remove from the pan and brush with the butter. Repeat as needed.
NOW. Last night, I only used half the dough, used the grill side of my griddle pan, and made four nearly dinner plate-sized breads, which I folded in half for the sandwiches. It took all of 10 minutes to cook the bread, and we served it warm. If you're using it for a crowd or for pizza, go ahead and use all the dough--even when I only used 3/4 of the recipe, it made 3 large pizzas. But it's so yummy, you may want to make it all, because then you can snack on it. It's that good.
The sandwich consists of grilled chicken, pesto, salad greens, and diced tomatoes (which my husband skips), all sandwiched between two pieces of flatbread. Well, grilled chicken is easy enough. Salad greens? Just snip some from the garden. As for pesto? Well, see this other post. I added thin slices of fresh mozzarella, and sliced tomatoes (for me and for the kids), because you can't go wrong with the mozzarella/tomato/pesto combination. That left the flatbread.
I didn't want to purchase flatbread because HELLO, have you seen the prices on that sort of thing? Besides, how hard can it be to make? I remembered a recipe I had tried back in the day from a very old Fleischman's Yeast promotional recipe booklet--called "Arab Bread," it was the nearest thing I've ever had to a flatbread I ate while on a missions trip to the Dominican Republic in high school. It was good, but I thought that it might be a bit too thick and dense for a sandwich. Then I thought of Naan. I'd seen it in the grocery store, and I knew that it is traditionally served with Indian cuisine (which I don't like). It looked thin, but substantial enough to hold together for a sandwich--in short, perfect for this application. The main drawback, again, was that it was so blooming expensive, I couldn't justify purchasing it. I'd have to try to make it.
I went online to Allrecipes.com, my go-to for recipe basics, and sorted Naan recipes by rating. The recipe I chose to try was the highest rated recipe, which even readers from Naan-eating countries deemed closest to the real thing. I made the dough on Tuesday for Grilled Pizza and liked it so much, I made it again on Thursday for my Grilled Chicken Pesto Sandwiches. The long and the short of it is this: Abe actually thought this sandwich was better than its restaurant-originated counterpart, due in large part to the bread. As a matter of fact, as I was finishing up this post, Abe came home from work, rummaged furiously through the fridge and asked, "Do we have any more of that bread??"
I do not take a compliment from Abe very lightly. This recipe is a keeper! It's also EASY, even if you don't have a mixer suitable for making bread--the dough is very soft and pliable, very easy to work with. And the cooking time is brief--the bread cooks on the stove top, so there's no need to heat your oven or your house. For me, this is a big plus in summertime! So there you have it. I don't like Indian food, except for Naan. Please give this wonderful flatbread a try! It's super for sandwiches, for grilled pizza, or just for eating with spreads like hummus, if you like that sort of thing. Go forth with confidence.
Note: I've just looked over the instructions, and man, am I WORDY. But read through it, and you'll see that even though I used a lot of words to describe the process, it's still really simple. Don't be put off my my inability to self-edit.
Naan
adapted from Allrecipes.com
1 pkg. yeast (approx. 2 1/4 tsp)
1 c. warm water
1/4 c. sugar, divided (1 Tbsp. and 3 Tbsp.)
3 Tbsp. milk
1 egg, beaten
2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
approx. 4 1/2 c. bread flour*
melted butter
1 tsp. garlic powder
In a large mixing bowl, mix together the warm water and the sugar. Sprinkle yeast over surface of water to moisten, and wait about 5-10 minutes for it to "proof," or get foamy. If it doesn't get foamy, try again--this means your yeast has DIED. RIP.
In the meantime, whisk together the milk and the egg. Combine the remaining 3 Tbsp. sugar, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl. When the yeast is done proofing, dump in the milk mixture and combine, then dump in the sugar mixture, and stir to combine. Then begin adding flour. *I don't even measure the flour at this point, because the important thing is just to add in flour until the mixture forms a dough and pulls away from the side of the bowl. I seriously doubt I use 4 1/2 cups, as the recipe calls for, but you'll want to have this much on hand just in case, I suppose.
When you've stirred in as much flour as it will incorporate, knead the dough a few times on the counter just to get it smooth and not sticky. Transfer to an oiled bowl and turn to coat (or just brush it with a little oil). Let it rise in a warm, draft-free place for about 1 hour, or until it's doubled in size. [I like to fill a 2 c. measuring cup with water and bring it to a boil in the microwave, then put the dough into the micro. with the hot water, and let it rise there--using this method, I only let it rise 45 minutes, and it's already doubled]
After it has doubled, turn it out on a floured countertop and flatten it, then divide it into 6-8 pieces (depending on how large you want your bread). Shape the pieces into balls, spray with a bit of oil or non-stick spray, and cover loosely with plastic wrap. Let rise for about 30 minutes.
Right before you're ready to cook the bread, melt the butter and mix in the garlic powder.
Now, the fun part: heat up a griddle or a large non-stick skillet to medium-high heat. Stretch your dough into flatbreads--make them very thin, because they'll puff up quite a bit! Toss the bread right onto the griddle or pan, cook for about 2-3 minutes, then flip, and cook for 2-3 more. Most of the dough will still be very light in color, but it will have darker spots where it bubbled and had contact with the pan. Remove from the pan and brush with the butter. Repeat as needed.
NOW. Last night, I only used half the dough, used the grill side of my griddle pan, and made four nearly dinner plate-sized breads, which I folded in half for the sandwiches. It took all of 10 minutes to cook the bread, and we served it warm. If you're using it for a crowd or for pizza, go ahead and use all the dough--even when I only used 3/4 of the recipe, it made 3 large pizzas. But it's so yummy, you may want to make it all, because then you can snack on it. It's that good.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Scalloped Potatoes
My sister-in-law called me one day, asking for my scalloped potato recipe.
"I don't really have one," I replied.
"What? But you make them all the time!" she said.
"Yes, but hardly ever with a recipe, and never the same way twice. I've just never hit upon the recipe that I like best, so I just continue the hunt every time I make them."
"Oh. Well. Never mind, then, I guess."
As I'm sure you've noticed if you've flipped through this blog at all, I have a love affair with potatoes. I will eat them in a house, and I will eat them with a mouse, I will eat them here or there, yes, I will eat them anywhere. And over the years, I've been fortunate enough to find or concoct recipes for potatoes that I've really loved in every category of preparation.
Except scalloped.
I first had scalloped potatoes as a child, when my family was dining with some friends. They were a potato lover's dream: wonderful flavor, simple, tender... I longed for those potatoes in my adult years, and thinking back to that first dish and how it must have been prepared, I reckon it involved potatoes, milk, flour, butter, and salt and pepper, and that's it. I must have tried every possible combination of those ingredients, but I never made scalloped potatoes that comforted me as much as those first scalloped potatoes. In fact, my sauce either turned out too thick and gloppy, or a more simple pour-the-milk-over preparation favored by many old-fashioned cookbooks yielded a curdled, tasteless mess.
But there's this marvelous magazine called Cooks Illustrated. The idea behind this particular publication is that they test and dissect recipes until they are perfect and foolproof, and they're very often successful. So when I had reached an impasse in my scalloped potato recipe search, I remembered them. They have one of those websites that you have to pay a monthly fee to use, and I wasn't quite desperate enough to pay for the recipe--yet. Frequently, bloggers and other miscellaneous recipe-posters will post notable Cooks Illustrated recipes on other sites, so I went a-Googlin' in hopes of finding it for free, and lo and behold, up popped this recipe.
So I tried it, and I loved it. It is now my scalloped potato recipe, so if Beth ever calls again looking for one, I will give this to her. Actually, come to think about it, I think I already gave it to her, knowing that she'd love it as much as we do. It's a little more detailed of an ingredient list than the flour-butter-milk-salt and pepper recipes I'd been using, but it still wasn't difficult, I usually have everything on the list on hand, and it actually comes together much more quickly than standard scalloped potato recipes, and with infinitely better flavor and texture. If you love potatoes like I do, or even just kind of like them, give this one a try!
Cooks Illustrated Scalloped Potatoes with Thyme and Bay
2 Tbsp. butter
1 med. onion, minced
2 med. garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1 Tbsp fresh thyme leaves, minced (or 1 tsp. dried thyme--that's what I use)
1 1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
1 1/2 lbs. (about 5 medium) russet potatoes, peeled and sliced 1/8 in. thick (*note: I don't peel, I just scrub. I like the skins and the flavor and nutrients they add. And to slice, I just run the spuds through the food processor with the slicing blade)
1 c. chicken broth
1 c. heavy cream (or, if you're like me, you use 2% milk, because that's what you have)
2 bay leaves
4 oz. cheddar cheese, shredded (about 1 cup loosely-packed shredded cheese)
Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.
Melt the butter, and sauté the onion over medium heat until soft and translucent. Add the garlic, thyme, and salt and pepper and cook for about 30 seconds or so. Add the potatoes, broth, cream (or milk), and bay leaves, and bring to a simmer. Cover, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until the potatoes are nearly tender, about 10 minutes. Remove bay leaves and discard.
Transfer the mixture to a 8x8 baking dish (or whatever casserole dish you'd like). Sprinkle the top with the cheese and bake in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes, or until the sauce is bubbling and the top is golden brown. Cool for about 10 minutes before serving (or not, if you're impatient like me).
NOW, if you want to turn this into a main dish casserole, prepare as directed, except that, before you dump the potato mixture into the baking dish, add some cubed ham or chicken. I'd say about 1 1/2 cups should do it, but it's ultimately up to you. And if you really want to go crazy and make it a one-dish meal, you could add some thawed (but not cooked) frozen peas, too, about 3/4 to 1 cup.
"I don't really have one," I replied.
"What? But you make them all the time!" she said.
"Yes, but hardly ever with a recipe, and never the same way twice. I've just never hit upon the recipe that I like best, so I just continue the hunt every time I make them."
"Oh. Well. Never mind, then, I guess."
As I'm sure you've noticed if you've flipped through this blog at all, I have a love affair with potatoes. I will eat them in a house, and I will eat them with a mouse, I will eat them here or there, yes, I will eat them anywhere. And over the years, I've been fortunate enough to find or concoct recipes for potatoes that I've really loved in every category of preparation.
Except scalloped.
I first had scalloped potatoes as a child, when my family was dining with some friends. They were a potato lover's dream: wonderful flavor, simple, tender... I longed for those potatoes in my adult years, and thinking back to that first dish and how it must have been prepared, I reckon it involved potatoes, milk, flour, butter, and salt and pepper, and that's it. I must have tried every possible combination of those ingredients, but I never made scalloped potatoes that comforted me as much as those first scalloped potatoes. In fact, my sauce either turned out too thick and gloppy, or a more simple pour-the-milk-over preparation favored by many old-fashioned cookbooks yielded a curdled, tasteless mess.
But there's this marvelous magazine called Cooks Illustrated. The idea behind this particular publication is that they test and dissect recipes until they are perfect and foolproof, and they're very often successful. So when I had reached an impasse in my scalloped potato recipe search, I remembered them. They have one of those websites that you have to pay a monthly fee to use, and I wasn't quite desperate enough to pay for the recipe--yet. Frequently, bloggers and other miscellaneous recipe-posters will post notable Cooks Illustrated recipes on other sites, so I went a-Googlin' in hopes of finding it for free, and lo and behold, up popped this recipe.
So I tried it, and I loved it. It is now my scalloped potato recipe, so if Beth ever calls again looking for one, I will give this to her. Actually, come to think about it, I think I already gave it to her, knowing that she'd love it as much as we do. It's a little more detailed of an ingredient list than the flour-butter-milk-salt and pepper recipes I'd been using, but it still wasn't difficult, I usually have everything on the list on hand, and it actually comes together much more quickly than standard scalloped potato recipes, and with infinitely better flavor and texture. If you love potatoes like I do, or even just kind of like them, give this one a try!
Cooks Illustrated Scalloped Potatoes with Thyme and Bay
2 Tbsp. butter
1 med. onion, minced
2 med. garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1 Tbsp fresh thyme leaves, minced (or 1 tsp. dried thyme--that's what I use)
1 1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
1 1/2 lbs. (about 5 medium) russet potatoes, peeled and sliced 1/8 in. thick (*note: I don't peel, I just scrub. I like the skins and the flavor and nutrients they add. And to slice, I just run the spuds through the food processor with the slicing blade)
1 c. chicken broth
1 c. heavy cream (or, if you're like me, you use 2% milk, because that's what you have)
2 bay leaves
4 oz. cheddar cheese, shredded (about 1 cup loosely-packed shredded cheese)
Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.
Melt the butter, and sauté the onion over medium heat until soft and translucent. Add the garlic, thyme, and salt and pepper and cook for about 30 seconds or so. Add the potatoes, broth, cream (or milk), and bay leaves, and bring to a simmer. Cover, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until the potatoes are nearly tender, about 10 minutes. Remove bay leaves and discard.
Transfer the mixture to a 8x8 baking dish (or whatever casserole dish you'd like). Sprinkle the top with the cheese and bake in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes, or until the sauce is bubbling and the top is golden brown. Cool for about 10 minutes before serving (or not, if you're impatient like me).
NOW, if you want to turn this into a main dish casserole, prepare as directed, except that, before you dump the potato mixture into the baking dish, add some cubed ham or chicken. I'd say about 1 1/2 cups should do it, but it's ultimately up to you. And if you really want to go crazy and make it a one-dish meal, you could add some thawed (but not cooked) frozen peas, too, about 3/4 to 1 cup.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Roasted Potatoes with Bacon and Cheese
Thank you, good night. The title pretty much sums up the whole recipe, doesn't it? I'll still elaborate, because I'm me and can't leave well enough alone.
We had a birthday party this weekend for Judah and his cousin. It was strictly nothing-fancy fare (these are kids we're talking about); burgers, hot dogs, corn dish, potatoes, cake, ice cream, and finger jello. My contribution was the potato portion. I toyed with the idea of doing potato wedges, but good grief--we were feeding 12 humans. That's a lot of potato wedges. I had just read through the new Food and Family magazine from Kraft foods, though, and noticed this recipe. It sounded tasty, easy, and (most importantly for our purposes) kid-friendly. I was very pleasantly surprised--and so was everyone else! Here's the recipe as is from the Kraft Kitchens.
Now, here's how I modified its preparation. Enjoy!
Roasted Potatoes with Bacon and Cheese
3 lb. potatoes, well-scrubbed and cut into 1-in cubes (more or less)
1/2 c. ranch dressing
1 c. shredded cheddar cheese
6 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Toss potatoes with ranch dressing. Place potatoes on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper or in a large non-stick roasting pan, and toss 'em in the oven. After about 35 minutes, give 'em a good stir, then toss in the cheddar and bacon, and stir to combine. Return to oven until potatoes are tender and as golden brown as you prefer. (I actually let mine go a bit longer than I meant to, and the bottoms of the potatoes had gotten a bit crunchy and golden, and they were great!) Total cooking time: approximately 45-55 minutes. Feeds a bunch!
We had a birthday party this weekend for Judah and his cousin. It was strictly nothing-fancy fare (these are kids we're talking about); burgers, hot dogs, corn dish, potatoes, cake, ice cream, and finger jello. My contribution was the potato portion. I toyed with the idea of doing potato wedges, but good grief--we were feeding 12 humans. That's a lot of potato wedges. I had just read through the new Food and Family magazine from Kraft foods, though, and noticed this recipe. It sounded tasty, easy, and (most importantly for our purposes) kid-friendly. I was very pleasantly surprised--and so was everyone else! Here's the recipe as is from the Kraft Kitchens.
Now, here's how I modified its preparation. Enjoy!
Roasted Potatoes with Bacon and Cheese
3 lb. potatoes, well-scrubbed and cut into 1-in cubes (more or less)
1/2 c. ranch dressing
1 c. shredded cheddar cheese
6 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Toss potatoes with ranch dressing. Place potatoes on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper or in a large non-stick roasting pan, and toss 'em in the oven. After about 35 minutes, give 'em a good stir, then toss in the cheddar and bacon, and stir to combine. Return to oven until potatoes are tender and as golden brown as you prefer. (I actually let mine go a bit longer than I meant to, and the bottoms of the potatoes had gotten a bit crunchy and golden, and they were great!) Total cooking time: approximately 45-55 minutes. Feeds a bunch!
Friday, March 14, 2008
Go-To Mac 'n' Cheese
One of the first meals I ever ate with Abe's family included a favorite of his: Baked Mac 'n' Cheese. It's his grandma's recipe, and he has enjoyed it ever since fetus-hood. He would eat (and probably has) and entire pan of the stuff without blinking if the rest of the family, also ardent fans, allowed it. Alas, they do not. They all eat it with great gusto and appreciation.
I, on the other hand, eschewed mac 'n' cheese as a child. I wouldn't touch the stuff with a ten foot pole. (I'm sure my mother was pleased as punch about that. I also never cared for bologna or peanut butter and jelly, but that's better left for another post.) I never ate mac 'n' cheese until I was a starving college student, by which point either a) my taste buds had developed more fully, or b) my poverty-induced hunger and need for a cheap meal trumped my lactose intolerance and general dislike of cheese. Either way, I was a relative mac 'n' cheese newbie well into my adulthood, and when I did eat the stuff, it was usually the neon-orange stuff from the blue box (or its equally-orange but less-expensive generic counterpart) or other saucy versions.
So when I sat down to sample Abe's family's mac 'n' cheese, I was stymied; it looked simply like baked noodles. Plain baked noodles. Later, after inquiring after the recipe, I realized that it was in fact a closer relative to scalloped potatoes than the mac 'n' cheese that I knew and, well, tolerated. I personally found it to be fantastically mushy, indescribably bland, and altogether unsatisfying. This was apparently no problem with the rest of the family--they polished off the entire 9x13 dish in a matter of seconds without needing my help.
Well into our marriage, the subject of baked mac 'n' cheese was a hot-button one in our household. I told Abe that I'd make anything he liked to eat in the kitchen--except his grandma's baked mac 'n' cheese. Of course, that only meant that he'd ask for it more repeatedly. It took me a while, but I finally hit on this solution: I would make a dish that had all of the qualities I thought mac 'n' cheese should have, and would bake it to give Abe the satisfaction of having his requests met. When it comes down to it, this version is neither bland nor mushy, and it is really satisfying--even more than the kind with the bright orange cheese-flavored powder. So I'm totally satisfied by this incarnation, and as for Abe, well--who really cares? He's not cooking anything anytime soon.
I started with Alton Brown's version of Stove-Top Mac 'N' Cheese and modified it slightly--I doubled the amount of pasta, while leaving the rest of the ingredient list intact. And I only use a total of 8 oz. of shredded cheese, putting 4 oz. in the actual pasta, and sprinkling the rest on top before running it under a broiler on low to give the illusion of being baked. (Don't tell.)
So, thanks Alton, for the inspiration (and the recipe).
Go-To Mac 'n' Cheese
1 lb. penne pasta
4 Tbsp. butter
2 eggs
6 oz. evaporated milk
1/2 tsp. hot sauce
1 tsp. kosher salt
Fresh black pepper to taste
3/4 tsp. dry mustard
8 oz. shredded cheddar (or the cheese of your choice), divided
Cook the pasta in well-salted boiling water until JUST al dente. be very careful not to overcook (unless you like your noodles mushy like my husband does). Drain, and return to the pot, tossing with the butter until the pasta is coated and the butter is melted.
In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, hot sauce, salt, pepper, and mustard. Stir egg mixture into the pasta, add 4 oz. of the cheese, and put some low heat under your pot. Stir for about 3 minutes more, or until the sauce is creamy.
Spray a casserole dish with cooking spray (you'll thank me later) and add pasta to dish. Sprinkle remaining cheese over top of the pasta, and place under a broiler set at low* until the cheese is as golden brown as you like it.
*Note: if your broiler doesn't have high/low settings, just put the mac 'n' cheese on a really low rack in the oven, and watch it carefully so it doesn't burn. Or, you can actually bake it--I'd suggest about 25 minutes at 375 degrees, or, again, until it's as golden as you like. JUST MAKE SURE that your pasta isn't too done before you start baking, or else you're going to end up with mush during the baking process--the pasta will absorb much of the sauce. If you like it mushy, though, of course, proceed with all manner of overcooking. I will try not to judge.
Serves: I've never gotten an actual count of how many this could feed, since it generally just all gets eaten by Abe. As a side dish, though, I bet it could feed 6. But not in this household.
I, on the other hand, eschewed mac 'n' cheese as a child. I wouldn't touch the stuff with a ten foot pole. (I'm sure my mother was pleased as punch about that. I also never cared for bologna or peanut butter and jelly, but that's better left for another post.) I never ate mac 'n' cheese until I was a starving college student, by which point either a) my taste buds had developed more fully, or b) my poverty-induced hunger and need for a cheap meal trumped my lactose intolerance and general dislike of cheese. Either way, I was a relative mac 'n' cheese newbie well into my adulthood, and when I did eat the stuff, it was usually the neon-orange stuff from the blue box (or its equally-orange but less-expensive generic counterpart) or other saucy versions.
So when I sat down to sample Abe's family's mac 'n' cheese, I was stymied; it looked simply like baked noodles. Plain baked noodles. Later, after inquiring after the recipe, I realized that it was in fact a closer relative to scalloped potatoes than the mac 'n' cheese that I knew and, well, tolerated. I personally found it to be fantastically mushy, indescribably bland, and altogether unsatisfying. This was apparently no problem with the rest of the family--they polished off the entire 9x13 dish in a matter of seconds without needing my help.
Well into our marriage, the subject of baked mac 'n' cheese was a hot-button one in our household. I told Abe that I'd make anything he liked to eat in the kitchen--except his grandma's baked mac 'n' cheese. Of course, that only meant that he'd ask for it more repeatedly. It took me a while, but I finally hit on this solution: I would make a dish that had all of the qualities I thought mac 'n' cheese should have, and would bake it to give Abe the satisfaction of having his requests met. When it comes down to it, this version is neither bland nor mushy, and it is really satisfying--even more than the kind with the bright orange cheese-flavored powder. So I'm totally satisfied by this incarnation, and as for Abe, well--who really cares? He's not cooking anything anytime soon.
I started with Alton Brown's version of Stove-Top Mac 'N' Cheese and modified it slightly--I doubled the amount of pasta, while leaving the rest of the ingredient list intact. And I only use a total of 8 oz. of shredded cheese, putting 4 oz. in the actual pasta, and sprinkling the rest on top before running it under a broiler on low to give the illusion of being baked. (Don't tell.)
So, thanks Alton, for the inspiration (and the recipe).
Go-To Mac 'n' Cheese
1 lb. penne pasta
4 Tbsp. butter
2 eggs
6 oz. evaporated milk
1/2 tsp. hot sauce
1 tsp. kosher salt
Fresh black pepper to taste
3/4 tsp. dry mustard
8 oz. shredded cheddar (or the cheese of your choice), divided
Cook the pasta in well-salted boiling water until JUST al dente. be very careful not to overcook (unless you like your noodles mushy like my husband does). Drain, and return to the pot, tossing with the butter until the pasta is coated and the butter is melted.
In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, hot sauce, salt, pepper, and mustard. Stir egg mixture into the pasta, add 4 oz. of the cheese, and put some low heat under your pot. Stir for about 3 minutes more, or until the sauce is creamy.
Spray a casserole dish with cooking spray (you'll thank me later) and add pasta to dish. Sprinkle remaining cheese over top of the pasta, and place under a broiler set at low* until the cheese is as golden brown as you like it.
*Note: if your broiler doesn't have high/low settings, just put the mac 'n' cheese on a really low rack in the oven, and watch it carefully so it doesn't burn. Or, you can actually bake it--I'd suggest about 25 minutes at 375 degrees, or, again, until it's as golden as you like. JUST MAKE SURE that your pasta isn't too done before you start baking, or else you're going to end up with mush during the baking process--the pasta will absorb much of the sauce. If you like it mushy, though, of course, proceed with all manner of overcooking. I will try not to judge.
Serves: I've never gotten an actual count of how many this could feed, since it generally just all gets eaten by Abe. As a side dish, though, I bet it could feed 6. But not in this household.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Rissole Potaotes
I used to have a subscription to a very useful magazine called Cuisine At Home. There are a lot of cooking magazines out there that I don't have a real use for; they're full of recipes for Tofu-this and Curry-that, which is not how my family rolls. Cuisine At Home is a cooking magazine, but it's typically filled with amped-up classics like fried chicken, pot roast, pizza, and apple pie, and soon-to-be favorites, like chocolate bread pudding, so it's actually a handy magazine to have around--particularly since every recipe is detailed and illustrated. Toward the end of my subscription, I found that the editors included a few too many seafood recipes for my liking, but before that, not an issue passed where I didn't pick up some very useful tips--tips that ranged from How to Make the Perfect Pizza Dough to Deglazing a Pan to Making Simple Syrup.
This recipe accompanied a recipe for Beer-Braised Brisket. While I haven't made the brisket yet, I have made these potatoes several times, and I believe they're Abe's favorite potato. They're a tiny tiny bit hands-on, so I don't make them super often, but when I do, they're always a delicious treat. The resulting potato is crisp on the outside and creamy on the inside, and buttery all the way through. They're perfect alongside any roast meat. Or air, for that matter. They're frankly just perfect.
Don't let the phrase "tiny tiny bit hands-on" turn you off--at least read through the recipe to see that, though these potatoes have a couple distinct steps, they're really quite easy. Plus, you'll get a cooking gold star for being able to parboil, steam, AND fry--all in one dish. (It sounds more complex than it really is!)
Rissole Potatoes
1 1/2 lb. potatoes, peeled and cut into large chunks (2 in. or so); OR use small red potatoes, and leave whole.
6 Tbsp. Butter, divided
2 tsp. dried parsley
salt and pepper to taste
Parboil potatoes in a saucepan for 10 minutes; drain.
Melt 4 Tbsp. butter in the pan over low heat. Add potatoes, cover pan with a lid, and cook over low/medium-low heat for 10 minutes. Swirl the pan occasionally to stir, holding the lid in place.
Uncover pan and increase heat to medium-high. Saute potatoes 10 minutes, turning potatoes until golden brown on all sides.
Place remaining butter and parsley in a small, microwave-safe bowl. Melt butter in microwave, and stir to combine with parsley. Pour over potatoes before serving, and add salt and pepper to taste.
adapted from Cuisine At Home, October 2004
This recipe accompanied a recipe for Beer-Braised Brisket. While I haven't made the brisket yet, I have made these potatoes several times, and I believe they're Abe's favorite potato. They're a tiny tiny bit hands-on, so I don't make them super often, but when I do, they're always a delicious treat. The resulting potato is crisp on the outside and creamy on the inside, and buttery all the way through. They're perfect alongside any roast meat. Or air, for that matter. They're frankly just perfect.
Don't let the phrase "tiny tiny bit hands-on" turn you off--at least read through the recipe to see that, though these potatoes have a couple distinct steps, they're really quite easy. Plus, you'll get a cooking gold star for being able to parboil, steam, AND fry--all in one dish. (It sounds more complex than it really is!)
Rissole Potatoes
1 1/2 lb. potatoes, peeled and cut into large chunks (2 in. or so); OR use small red potatoes, and leave whole.
6 Tbsp. Butter, divided
2 tsp. dried parsley
salt and pepper to taste
Parboil potatoes in a saucepan for 10 minutes; drain.
Melt 4 Tbsp. butter in the pan over low heat. Add potatoes, cover pan with a lid, and cook over low/medium-low heat for 10 minutes. Swirl the pan occasionally to stir, holding the lid in place.
Uncover pan and increase heat to medium-high. Saute potatoes 10 minutes, turning potatoes until golden brown on all sides.
Place remaining butter and parsley in a small, microwave-safe bowl. Melt butter in microwave, and stir to combine with parsley. Pour over potatoes before serving, and add salt and pepper to taste.
adapted from Cuisine At Home, October 2004
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Jo Jo Potatoes
Some years ago, when I was still school age, my parents used load us up in the car to go spend the evening with their friends, Lucky and Dennis. Lucky had been a college roommate of my mother's, and Dennis had been a college roommate of my dad's. Imagine that. Anyway, Lucky is not generally known for her culinary skill, so dinners down there were pretty basic--we called them "Standard Chicken Dinner." Baked faux-shake 'n bake chicken, stove top stuffing, and green beans was the menu for just about every visit. To this day, I occasionally make Standard Chicken Dinner just for the trip down memory lane.
On rare occasions, though, I remember dining on purchased fried chicken and these phenomenal things called Jo Jo potatoes. As near as I could tell, they were just potato wedges, but they had some sort of wonderful, crumbly seasoning crust on them--I could easily have eaten the whole order myself. Maybe it was just the welcome departure from Standard Chicken Dinner, but I always hoped that those Jo Jo things would end up on the table during our visits. I never knew where they came from, and Lucky and Dennis live about an hour away from my parents, so the Jo Jo shop certainly wasn't convenient to our home. Those delicious potatoes became legendary in my mind, both because of their inherent yumminess and their illusive nature. I could never really have them when I wanted them, so anytime they showed up, it was miraculous.
Years later, in my travels as an adult, I'd catch glimpses of Jo Jo potatoes at random delis and take-out places, even at the occasional gas station. But I suppose that there's not really a standard definition out there of what makes a Jo Jo potato, because all of these potatoes I was encountering were shockingly different--some had a thick, crisp crust on them and were heavily spiced, while others were softer, milder, with more of a crumbly coating. Some were just fried potatoe wedges, plain and simple. None matched up the the wonder that was the Jo Jos of my youth--I suppose life is like that a lot; you can't go home again, and all of that. So I gave up hope and forgot all about them.
Then, a week or two ago, I was looking at a blog called Chocolate and Zucchini. I only visited because the name sounded intriguing, and it turns out that the author is one of those serious French foodies who eats things like quail eggs en papillote with a melange of turnip greens and fennel. (I made that one up, but she eats some really strange stuff.) Many of her posts are too bizarre for me, but here and there, she posts something I can get behind. Her post called "Deluxe Potatoes" caught my eye, mostly because the words "deluxe" and "potatoes" used in the same phrase suggest a dish I will most certainly enjoy. So I checked it out, and darned if the photo she posted of said potatoes didn't closely resemble those Jo Jos I'd enjoyed so much as a kid. They didn't look quite as crumbly, and they called for whole mustard seeds, which don't happen to reside in my spice collection, but just the same, that post rekindled the hope within me that I would someday get to taste these tasty fries (though it almost seems sacrilegious to call them that).
So after a little research and a few modifications to the recipes I found, I present to you the recipe for Jo Jo Potatoes as I served them tonight. They still aren't the real deal, but they're the closest I've tasted thus far. And my kids scarfed them up like they were going out of style, so they're a keeper, in my book, Grail or not.
Jo Jo Potatoes
4-5 medium russet potatoes, scrubbed well, but not peeled
1/2 c. (1 stick) butter or margarine, melted
1/2 c. fine dry bread crumbs
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
2 Tbsp. flour
2 tsp. paprika
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1/4 tsp. celery salt
1/8 tsp. pepper
dash cayenne (optional)
First of all, preheat your oven to 400 degrees.
Then, toss all of the dry ingredients into a gallon-size Ziploc bag and shake to combine. The measurements there for the seasonings are guidelines--feel free to alter them as you wish, or measure them in your palm and skip the measuring spoons altogether. So long as you start with approximate amounts of the bread crumbs, flour, and Parmesan, you can't really go too far wrong.
Then, cut your potatoes into wedges--I generally get about 8 wedges from each potato, but the important thing is not the number, but that they're more or less evenly sized, so they all cook at the same rate.
Dunk your wedges in the melted butter, then shake them, a few at a time, in the Parmesan mixture, and arrange on a greased or parchment-lined cookie sheet. Stand them up with the skin side on the bottom if you can, but if they want to lay on their sides instead, that's fine--just flip them halfway through the cooking time.
If you have any leftover butter, drizzle it over top of the potatoes before you pop them into the preheated oven. Or don't, if all that butter scares you. But then, if butter scares you, you're probably not making this recipe, or any other recipes on this blog, for that matter. Bake for about 35 minutes or until they're tender and browned, then wallow in their scrumptiousness.
On rare occasions, though, I remember dining on purchased fried chicken and these phenomenal things called Jo Jo potatoes. As near as I could tell, they were just potato wedges, but they had some sort of wonderful, crumbly seasoning crust on them--I could easily have eaten the whole order myself. Maybe it was just the welcome departure from Standard Chicken Dinner, but I always hoped that those Jo Jo things would end up on the table during our visits. I never knew where they came from, and Lucky and Dennis live about an hour away from my parents, so the Jo Jo shop certainly wasn't convenient to our home. Those delicious potatoes became legendary in my mind, both because of their inherent yumminess and their illusive nature. I could never really have them when I wanted them, so anytime they showed up, it was miraculous.
Years later, in my travels as an adult, I'd catch glimpses of Jo Jo potatoes at random delis and take-out places, even at the occasional gas station. But I suppose that there's not really a standard definition out there of what makes a Jo Jo potato, because all of these potatoes I was encountering were shockingly different--some had a thick, crisp crust on them and were heavily spiced, while others were softer, milder, with more of a crumbly coating. Some were just fried potatoe wedges, plain and simple. None matched up the the wonder that was the Jo Jos of my youth--I suppose life is like that a lot; you can't go home again, and all of that. So I gave up hope and forgot all about them.
Then, a week or two ago, I was looking at a blog called Chocolate and Zucchini. I only visited because the name sounded intriguing, and it turns out that the author is one of those serious French foodies who eats things like quail eggs en papillote with a melange of turnip greens and fennel. (I made that one up, but she eats some really strange stuff.) Many of her posts are too bizarre for me, but here and there, she posts something I can get behind. Her post called "Deluxe Potatoes" caught my eye, mostly because the words "deluxe" and "potatoes" used in the same phrase suggest a dish I will most certainly enjoy. So I checked it out, and darned if the photo she posted of said potatoes didn't closely resemble those Jo Jos I'd enjoyed so much as a kid. They didn't look quite as crumbly, and they called for whole mustard seeds, which don't happen to reside in my spice collection, but just the same, that post rekindled the hope within me that I would someday get to taste these tasty fries (though it almost seems sacrilegious to call them that).
So after a little research and a few modifications to the recipes I found, I present to you the recipe for Jo Jo Potatoes as I served them tonight. They still aren't the real deal, but they're the closest I've tasted thus far. And my kids scarfed them up like they were going out of style, so they're a keeper, in my book, Grail or not.
Jo Jo Potatoes
4-5 medium russet potatoes, scrubbed well, but not peeled
1/2 c. (1 stick) butter or margarine, melted
1/2 c. fine dry bread crumbs
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
2 Tbsp. flour
2 tsp. paprika
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1/4 tsp. celery salt
1/8 tsp. pepper
dash cayenne (optional)
First of all, preheat your oven to 400 degrees.
Then, toss all of the dry ingredients into a gallon-size Ziploc bag and shake to combine. The measurements there for the seasonings are guidelines--feel free to alter them as you wish, or measure them in your palm and skip the measuring spoons altogether. So long as you start with approximate amounts of the bread crumbs, flour, and Parmesan, you can't really go too far wrong.
Then, cut your potatoes into wedges--I generally get about 8 wedges from each potato, but the important thing is not the number, but that they're more or less evenly sized, so they all cook at the same rate.
Dunk your wedges in the melted butter, then shake them, a few at a time, in the Parmesan mixture, and arrange on a greased or parchment-lined cookie sheet. Stand them up with the skin side on the bottom if you can, but if they want to lay on their sides instead, that's fine--just flip them halfway through the cooking time.
If you have any leftover butter, drizzle it over top of the potatoes before you pop them into the preheated oven. Or don't, if all that butter scares you. But then, if butter scares you, you're probably not making this recipe, or any other recipes on this blog, for that matter. Bake for about 35 minutes or until they're tender and browned, then wallow in their scrumptiousness.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Pineapple-Almond Rice Pilaf
This recipe was born of necessity one night when I was making Hawaiian Ham Steak. What goes with Hawaiian Ham Steak? I thought. Not noodles. Not mashed potatoes. Maybe au gratin potatoes, but we eat so many potatoes as is; we need a rice dish.
Well, I have this leftover pineapple. And I love rice pilaf . . . how can I make this work?
I found a recipe for "Rice Baked in Chicken Stock" in The Joy of Cooking and modified it a bit so it would use up the remaining pineapple and also include almonds (just 'cause I love 'em.). This recipe is very easy, and mostly hands-off, once you get past the browning part. It's prefect with the Ham because its flavors won't overwhelm the Ham and complement it very nicely; also, you can begin preparing it, and in the time it's finishing in the oven, you can put together the ham dish. Nice!
Pineapple-Almond Rice Pilaf
1/2 c. chopped onion
1/2 c. slivered almonds
1/4 c. (1/2 stick) butter or margarine
1/2 lg. can pineapple chunks, drained; quarter the chunks
1 1/4 c. uncooked long grain rice
2 1/2 c. chicken broth or stock
2 Tbsp. dried parsley
2 Tbsp. melted butter (optional)
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
In a heavy, lidded saucepan, melt butter over medium heat. Add onions, rice and almonds to the butter and saute until onions are translucent and the rice and almonds are beginning to toast. Add pineapple, and stir to combine. Then add chicken stock and parsley, stir to combine, and cover with lid.
Place in the oven and bake for 20-25 minutes. Remove from oven and let stand a few minutes before you remove the lid. Then stir in melted butter (optional, of course), and serve alongside the ham, pineapple, and glaze.
Pilaf serves 4-6 as a side dish.
Well, I have this leftover pineapple. And I love rice pilaf . . . how can I make this work?
I found a recipe for "Rice Baked in Chicken Stock" in The Joy of Cooking and modified it a bit so it would use up the remaining pineapple and also include almonds (just 'cause I love 'em.). This recipe is very easy, and mostly hands-off, once you get past the browning part. It's prefect with the Ham because its flavors won't overwhelm the Ham and complement it very nicely; also, you can begin preparing it, and in the time it's finishing in the oven, you can put together the ham dish. Nice!
Pineapple-Almond Rice Pilaf
1/2 c. chopped onion
1/2 c. slivered almonds
1/4 c. (1/2 stick) butter or margarine
1/2 lg. can pineapple chunks, drained; quarter the chunks
1 1/4 c. uncooked long grain rice
2 1/2 c. chicken broth or stock
2 Tbsp. dried parsley
2 Tbsp. melted butter (optional)
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
In a heavy, lidded saucepan, melt butter over medium heat. Add onions, rice and almonds to the butter and saute until onions are translucent and the rice and almonds are beginning to toast. Add pineapple, and stir to combine. Then add chicken stock and parsley, stir to combine, and cover with lid.
Place in the oven and bake for 20-25 minutes. Remove from oven and let stand a few minutes before you remove the lid. Then stir in melted butter (optional, of course), and serve alongside the ham, pineapple, and glaze.
Pilaf serves 4-6 as a side dish.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Shepherd's Pie and Garlic Smashed Potatoes
Ask my mother what my favorite food is. Go ahead, ask her.
I'll wait.
Mashed potatoes, right? Does she know me, or what? I could eat mashed potatoes almost daily. In fact, I could definitely eat potatoes daily (and I'm sure my husband feels that we do, some weeks), whether they be au gratin, fried, roasted, baked . . . but always and especially mashed. Creamy, hearty, filling, soul-satisfying, and loaded with carbs, mashed potatoes have everything I look for in a food.
So when I met this dish called Shepherd's Pie (in St. Croix, USVI, of all places), whose base is ground beef, gravy, and corn and whose top is--wonder of wonders!--a sheet of fluffy mashed potatoes, I was immediately enamored of it and needed it in my life as a permanent fixture. I guess you could say I enjoyed it.
I then did what any beef/corn/mashed potato-obsessed person would do: I went straight home and re-created the recipe. Now, a disclaimer: this is not authentic Shepherd's Pie. So if you're British and your Mum made this dish for you growing up, you'd better get the recipe from her, because this is definitely an American knock-off, and it probably won't cut it for you. Real Shepherd's Pie has lamb; this does not, because I only eat lamb at the occasional passover or when I'm on a missions trip in the Faroe Islands. And most Shepherd's Pie recipes call for a tomato product in the base, but I don't enjoy the tomato/potato combination, so I leave that one alone. So forgive me for straying so far from the original, but whatever you call it, this casserole is scrumptious, low-brow, and most importantly, easy to prepare.
Below, I've posted three recipes: one for the Original Shepherd's Pie (a la St. Croix), one for Skillet Shepherd's Pie, and one for good old Garlic Smashed Potatoes. Enjoy!
Original Shepherd's Pie
1 lb. ground beef
1/2 lg. sweet onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced finely (optional)
1 1/2 c. frozen corn (or peas, or a mixture of both)
1 envelope brown gravy mix (two if you like it really saucy; in that case, double the water, and bump the thyme up to 3/4 tsp.!)
1 c. cold water
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
ground black pepper to taste
4 cups prepared mashed potatoes
Butter
Paprika
Preheat oven to 375.
Brown ground beef. Add onion and garlic and saute over medium-low heat until onion is soft; drain.
Push the beef off to one side of the pan. To the pan, add the brown gravy mix, water, thyme, and pepper. Bring to a boil and simmer for a minute or two, until the gravy thickens.
Spread the beef and gravy evenly in the bottom of a casserole dish. Sprinkle the corn uniformly over top of that, and gently spread the mashed potatoes over top of the corn. Dot the top with small bits of butter and sprinkle with paprika. Bake for 35 minutes or until the top is as golden brown as you like it. Then stick your head in it like Mama's Little Piggy and enter a coma of bliss!
Serves 4-6.
Shepherd's Pie Skillet
(see above ingredients)
Prepare ground beef, onion, garlic, and gravy as in the original, but add the frozen vegetables directly to the skillet with the beef and gravy and let simmer for 3-5 minutes. Skip the oven altogether and serve over a big pile of mashed potatoes.
Serves 4-6.
Garlic Smashed Potatoes
6-7 lg. russet potatoes
4-5 cloves garlic, peeled and roughly chopped
3 Tbsp. butter, sliced
1/2 c. warm milk (microwave at medium power for 40 seconds or so)
1/4 c. sour cream
Black pepper
Scrub potatoes thoroughly and chop into roughly 1-in. cubes. Do not peel unless you are motivated to do so--I am most certainly not. Place in a large sauce pan with your chopped garlic and just cover with water. Place over medium high heat. When the potato pot comes to a boil, add a tablespoon or two of salt to the water. Cook potatoes until easily pierced with a fork, about 15 minutes.
Drain well; add potatoes and garlic back to the hot pan and wait 30 seconds or so for some of the moisture to evaporate. Add butter to potatoes, and mash away with your potato masher until they are as lump-free as you like them. (We like them fairly lumpy at our house.) Gradually stir in milk until the potato/garlic mixture is almost moistened enough. (Leave them a little bit stiff and dry, because you're going to add the sour cream next, and you don't want them to end up soupy. You can always add more milk later if the sour cream doesn't get your potatoes to your desired level of creaminess, okay?) Add the sour cream, and stir to distribute it well. Season with pepper to taste.
Serves 6 as a side dish.
(Try these potatoes topped with French's French Fried Onions--delicious!)
I'll wait.
Mashed potatoes, right? Does she know me, or what? I could eat mashed potatoes almost daily. In fact, I could definitely eat potatoes daily (and I'm sure my husband feels that we do, some weeks), whether they be au gratin, fried, roasted, baked . . . but always and especially mashed. Creamy, hearty, filling, soul-satisfying, and loaded with carbs, mashed potatoes have everything I look for in a food.
So when I met this dish called Shepherd's Pie (in St. Croix, USVI, of all places), whose base is ground beef, gravy, and corn and whose top is--wonder of wonders!--a sheet of fluffy mashed potatoes, I was immediately enamored of it and needed it in my life as a permanent fixture. I guess you could say I enjoyed it.
I then did what any beef/corn/mashed potato-obsessed person would do: I went straight home and re-created the recipe. Now, a disclaimer: this is not authentic Shepherd's Pie. So if you're British and your Mum made this dish for you growing up, you'd better get the recipe from her, because this is definitely an American knock-off, and it probably won't cut it for you. Real Shepherd's Pie has lamb; this does not, because I only eat lamb at the occasional passover or when I'm on a missions trip in the Faroe Islands. And most Shepherd's Pie recipes call for a tomato product in the base, but I don't enjoy the tomato/potato combination, so I leave that one alone. So forgive me for straying so far from the original, but whatever you call it, this casserole is scrumptious, low-brow, and most importantly, easy to prepare.
Below, I've posted three recipes: one for the Original Shepherd's Pie (a la St. Croix), one for Skillet Shepherd's Pie, and one for good old Garlic Smashed Potatoes. Enjoy!
Original Shepherd's Pie
1 lb. ground beef
1/2 lg. sweet onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced finely (optional)
1 1/2 c. frozen corn (or peas, or a mixture of both)
1 envelope brown gravy mix (two if you like it really saucy; in that case, double the water, and bump the thyme up to 3/4 tsp.!)
1 c. cold water
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
ground black pepper to taste
4 cups prepared mashed potatoes
Butter
Paprika
Preheat oven to 375.
Brown ground beef. Add onion and garlic and saute over medium-low heat until onion is soft; drain.
Push the beef off to one side of the pan. To the pan, add the brown gravy mix, water, thyme, and pepper. Bring to a boil and simmer for a minute or two, until the gravy thickens.
Spread the beef and gravy evenly in the bottom of a casserole dish. Sprinkle the corn uniformly over top of that, and gently spread the mashed potatoes over top of the corn. Dot the top with small bits of butter and sprinkle with paprika. Bake for 35 minutes or until the top is as golden brown as you like it. Then stick your head in it like Mama's Little Piggy and enter a coma of bliss!
Serves 4-6.
Shepherd's Pie Skillet
(see above ingredients)
Prepare ground beef, onion, garlic, and gravy as in the original, but add the frozen vegetables directly to the skillet with the beef and gravy and let simmer for 3-5 minutes. Skip the oven altogether and serve over a big pile of mashed potatoes.
Serves 4-6.
Garlic Smashed Potatoes
6-7 lg. russet potatoes
4-5 cloves garlic, peeled and roughly chopped
3 Tbsp. butter, sliced
1/2 c. warm milk (microwave at medium power for 40 seconds or so)
1/4 c. sour cream
Black pepper
Scrub potatoes thoroughly and chop into roughly 1-in. cubes. Do not peel unless you are motivated to do so--I am most certainly not. Place in a large sauce pan with your chopped garlic and just cover with water. Place over medium high heat. When the potato pot comes to a boil, add a tablespoon or two of salt to the water. Cook potatoes until easily pierced with a fork, about 15 minutes.
Drain well; add potatoes and garlic back to the hot pan and wait 30 seconds or so for some of the moisture to evaporate. Add butter to potatoes, and mash away with your potato masher until they are as lump-free as you like them. (We like them fairly lumpy at our house.) Gradually stir in milk until the potato/garlic mixture is almost moistened enough. (Leave them a little bit stiff and dry, because you're going to add the sour cream next, and you don't want them to end up soupy. You can always add more milk later if the sour cream doesn't get your potatoes to your desired level of creaminess, okay?) Add the sour cream, and stir to distribute it well. Season with pepper to taste.
Serves 6 as a side dish.
(Try these potatoes topped with French's French Fried Onions--delicious!)
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Bronco Beans
My mom used to make this rich bean dish when I was a kid. I hated it. Of course, I wasn't a very adventuresome eater back then--I didn't let my foods touch each other on the plate, much less in a casserole dish.
Now that I am older and more sophisticated, I recognize the simple beauty of a casserole that includes canned beans, bacon and ground beef. Bronco Beans are not low-calorie, low-fat or low- anything else; they are made up of a veritable truckload of carbs. The recipe calls for ketchup and brown sugar. It is lowbrow food at its sloppy finest, so if you are looking for something to serve at a swanky dinner party, do not make this.
If, however, you are having a barbecue or potluck and want to come home with an empty dish, this is a great go-to recipe.
And a small disclaimer: I lost my mother's recipe (sorry, Mom), so this may not be exactly her concoction per se, but it tastes pretty close. I'm sure if I've omitted anything truly important, she'll comment on it.
Bronco Beans
1/2 lb. bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 lb. ground beef, browned with 1 medium onion, diced
1 can pork and beans, undrained
1 can dark red kidney beans, drained
1 can butter beans (or Great northern beans, if you prefer), drained
1/2 c. ketchup
1 c. brown sugar
3 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. mustard powder
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Combine bacon, beef and onion, pork and beans, kidney beans, and butter beans.
In a separate bowl, thoroughly mix the ketchup, sugar, vinegar, and mustard. Combine with the bean mixture in a large casserole dish.
Cover, and bake for 1 hour.
Serves 8 as a side dish.
Now that I am older and more sophisticated, I recognize the simple beauty of a casserole that includes canned beans, bacon and ground beef. Bronco Beans are not low-calorie, low-fat or low- anything else; they are made up of a veritable truckload of carbs. The recipe calls for ketchup and brown sugar. It is lowbrow food at its sloppy finest, so if you are looking for something to serve at a swanky dinner party, do not make this.
If, however, you are having a barbecue or potluck and want to come home with an empty dish, this is a great go-to recipe.
And a small disclaimer: I lost my mother's recipe (sorry, Mom), so this may not be exactly her concoction per se, but it tastes pretty close. I'm sure if I've omitted anything truly important, she'll comment on it.
Bronco Beans
1/2 lb. bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 lb. ground beef, browned with 1 medium onion, diced
1 can pork and beans, undrained
1 can dark red kidney beans, drained
1 can butter beans (or Great northern beans, if you prefer), drained
1/2 c. ketchup
1 c. brown sugar
3 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. mustard powder
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Combine bacon, beef and onion, pork and beans, kidney beans, and butter beans.
In a separate bowl, thoroughly mix the ketchup, sugar, vinegar, and mustard. Combine with the bean mixture in a large casserole dish.
Cover, and bake for 1 hour.
Serves 8 as a side dish.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Cilantro-Lime Rice and Black Beans
Mixed marriages are tough. To recap, my husband is a country boy and I am a city girl. He likes mushrooms, I think they look like brain matter and taste like dirt. He loves pork, and I am decidedly on the fence. But here's another: I love Qdoba. He does not.
Oh, he'll eat there every once in a while, just to humor me, but I know it's not his favorite.
How I love a Naked Burrito, though--that steaming bowl of cilantro-lime rice, black beans, pico de gallo, adobo chicken, and shredded cheese makes my soul sigh. Ahhhh, comfort.
Who wants to spend the money, though, when we have all of those components at our house? We can feast for pennies on the dollar of what a Qdoba meal for four would cost. So I decided to re-create Naked Burritos at our house, and I must say, the results were astonishing.
It was a little labor intensive, since I made everything from scratch. (Well, mostly: the beans I used were canned black beans, which I doctored with garlic, bay, cayenne, and cumin). I made two kinds of salsa--the pico de gallo salsa for me, and the roasted corn salsa for Abe. I even roasted the corn myself. And I had never made Adobo chicken before, but it was easy and fantastic.
But even with all of that tasty stuff, a Naked Burrito wouldn't be what it is without the fresh simplicity of Cilantro-Lime rice. And it couldn't be easier to prepare!
p.s. The whole meal came together in about 35-40 minutes, so while there are a lot of components to prepare, it still works as a weeknight dinner.
Cilantro-Lime Rice
1 c. basmati rice or other long-grain rice, well-rinsed
2 tsp. olive oil (keeps the rice grains separate a bit better)
1/2 tsp. salt
1 3/4 c. water
3 Tbsp. finely chopped fresh cilantro
2 Tbsp. fresh lime juice
Bring water to boil in a medium saucepan. Add olive oil, rice, and salt. Stir just to make sure the grains are separate, then cover and simmer over low heat for about 17 minutes. While the rice cooks, go find a clean dish towel or a couple paper towels; when the timer goes off for the rice, remove the rice from the heat, remove the lid, place the towel(s) over the pan, and replace the lid. This will catch some of the steam and keep the rice from getting gummy. Let the rice sit for about 10 minutes.
Remove the lid, and fluff the rice a bit to allow any remaining steam to escape.
Toss in cilantro, and drizzle with lime juice. Stir gently, just to combine.
Serves 4 as a side dish.
Today's bonus recipe, which pairs perfectly with the Cilantro-Lime Rice, is Black Beans. Both of these recipes are modified from recipes that appear on a vegan food blog called Nutrition Ambition. I can't take credit for these beans, but there you have it. They are so yum...
Black Beans
1 can black beans, undrained
pinch cayenne
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 crushed garlic clove
1 bay leaf
Combine all ingredients. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 10 minutes. Remove the bay leaf and garlic clove before serving. This recipe is easily doubled or tripled as you need!
Oh, he'll eat there every once in a while, just to humor me, but I know it's not his favorite.
How I love a Naked Burrito, though--that steaming bowl of cilantro-lime rice, black beans, pico de gallo, adobo chicken, and shredded cheese makes my soul sigh. Ahhhh, comfort.
Who wants to spend the money, though, when we have all of those components at our house? We can feast for pennies on the dollar of what a Qdoba meal for four would cost. So I decided to re-create Naked Burritos at our house, and I must say, the results were astonishing.
It was a little labor intensive, since I made everything from scratch. (Well, mostly: the beans I used were canned black beans, which I doctored with garlic, bay, cayenne, and cumin). I made two kinds of salsa--the pico de gallo salsa for me, and the roasted corn salsa for Abe. I even roasted the corn myself. And I had never made Adobo chicken before, but it was easy and fantastic.
But even with all of that tasty stuff, a Naked Burrito wouldn't be what it is without the fresh simplicity of Cilantro-Lime rice. And it couldn't be easier to prepare!
p.s. The whole meal came together in about 35-40 minutes, so while there are a lot of components to prepare, it still works as a weeknight dinner.
Cilantro-Lime Rice
1 c. basmati rice or other long-grain rice, well-rinsed
2 tsp. olive oil (keeps the rice grains separate a bit better)
1/2 tsp. salt
1 3/4 c. water
3 Tbsp. finely chopped fresh cilantro
2 Tbsp. fresh lime juice
Bring water to boil in a medium saucepan. Add olive oil, rice, and salt. Stir just to make sure the grains are separate, then cover and simmer over low heat for about 17 minutes. While the rice cooks, go find a clean dish towel or a couple paper towels; when the timer goes off for the rice, remove the rice from the heat, remove the lid, place the towel(s) over the pan, and replace the lid. This will catch some of the steam and keep the rice from getting gummy. Let the rice sit for about 10 minutes.
Remove the lid, and fluff the rice a bit to allow any remaining steam to escape.
Toss in cilantro, and drizzle with lime juice. Stir gently, just to combine.
Serves 4 as a side dish.
Today's bonus recipe, which pairs perfectly with the Cilantro-Lime Rice, is Black Beans. Both of these recipes are modified from recipes that appear on a vegan food blog called Nutrition Ambition. I can't take credit for these beans, but there you have it. They are so yum...
Black Beans
1 can black beans, undrained
pinch cayenne
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 crushed garlic clove
1 bay leaf
Combine all ingredients. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 10 minutes. Remove the bay leaf and garlic clove before serving. This recipe is easily doubled or tripled as you need!
Monday, August 13, 2007
Glazed Carrots
I first made this dish in college, long before my culinary journey really got underway. Here's the scene: five girls (all from 1st East Olson) and five guys (all from 1st West Wengatz) convene for a night of home cooking and a skit at the nearby home of one of the guys (put on by the girls, the skit was the hilarious yet poignant tale of the five guys' fate in the "Mr. Taylor" competition. More than eleven years later, it still makes me laugh).
The guys were hosting the evening, but the girls were planning it, and each girl was given a task. I don't remember all of the specifics of who did what, but I do remember that Liz and I, who most enjoyed cooking (and probably had a boy we wanted to impress), muscled our way into being the cooks, giving others tasks like "linens" and "table decoration." We made a baked chicken with a teriyaki-like sauce (pineapple juice and soy sauce thickened with a cornstarch slurry), hasselback potatoes, and glazed carrots. Elementary stuff, it was, but if memory serves, it still turned out pretty tasty. One of the guys, no doubt being flattering, even said, "You need to give my mom a cooking lesson." Perhaps an overstatement, Jeremy, but a nice sentiment anyway.
I remember thinking that the carrots were going to be a very bland element of the meal--indeed, none of the meal had real "punch," so I figured something was in order. And for some reason, even though the sauce for the chicken was on the sweet side, I decided to go with a sweet glaze for the carrots, too.
My current recipe varies only slightly from that original dish; back then, I didn't know the joy of steaming vegetables, so those carrots were boiled (and very likely overcooked). And I'm pretty sure I assembled the glaze in a saucepan, but now, I skip that unnecessary dish. But even with those changes, the spirit of the dish is still the same, after all these years: simple, tasty, and satisfying.
p.s. If I had known how things were going to turn out with the guy I was trying to impress, I woudn't have bothered trying to impress him. Then again, my husband loves these carrots, so perhaps it was for the best.
Glazed Carrots
4 large carrots
2 Tbsp. butter (approx.)
1 Tbsp. brown sugar (approx.)
salt and pepper to taste
Peel the carrots, and slice them to uniform thickness (about 1/4 in.), slightly on the diagonal. Slicing on the diagonal increases the surface area and, I believe, speeds up cooking time.
Steam carrots, either in a steamer basket in a pot on the stove, or in an electric rice cooker/steamer. I prefer the electric steamer, finding it a bit more foolproof, but a basket would certainly be a cheaper purchase, if you're looking to break into the world of steaming. Either way, be sure the carrots are not in any way submerged in the water, and steam to desired tenderness. I'm not going to tell you how long this takes, because the time will depend on both the thickness of the carrots and your preferred level of doneness. Just taste one after about 10 minutes and judge from there.
Cut the butter into smaller portions; slices are fine, or a dice. The goal is to get them to melt faster, so as long as it isn't just a huge hunk of butter, you'll be fine.
Place butter and brown sugar in the bottom of a medium bowl. When the carrots are done to your liking, discard the steaming water and dump the carrots into the bowl with the butter and sugar. Toss until the butter is melted and brown sugar is dissolved. Season with salt and pepper as desired, and serve.
*Note: you may also use baby carrots right out of the bag, but they will take a few more minutes to steam. They are just as delicious, though, so if these particular carrots are your millieu, go forth with gusto.
Serves 4.
The guys were hosting the evening, but the girls were planning it, and each girl was given a task. I don't remember all of the specifics of who did what, but I do remember that Liz and I, who most enjoyed cooking (and probably had a boy we wanted to impress), muscled our way into being the cooks, giving others tasks like "linens" and "table decoration." We made a baked chicken with a teriyaki-like sauce (pineapple juice and soy sauce thickened with a cornstarch slurry), hasselback potatoes, and glazed carrots. Elementary stuff, it was, but if memory serves, it still turned out pretty tasty. One of the guys, no doubt being flattering, even said, "You need to give my mom a cooking lesson." Perhaps an overstatement, Jeremy, but a nice sentiment anyway.
I remember thinking that the carrots were going to be a very bland element of the meal--indeed, none of the meal had real "punch," so I figured something was in order. And for some reason, even though the sauce for the chicken was on the sweet side, I decided to go with a sweet glaze for the carrots, too.
My current recipe varies only slightly from that original dish; back then, I didn't know the joy of steaming vegetables, so those carrots were boiled (and very likely overcooked). And I'm pretty sure I assembled the glaze in a saucepan, but now, I skip that unnecessary dish. But even with those changes, the spirit of the dish is still the same, after all these years: simple, tasty, and satisfying.
p.s. If I had known how things were going to turn out with the guy I was trying to impress, I woudn't have bothered trying to impress him. Then again, my husband loves these carrots, so perhaps it was for the best.
Glazed Carrots
4 large carrots
2 Tbsp. butter (approx.)
1 Tbsp. brown sugar (approx.)
salt and pepper to taste
Peel the carrots, and slice them to uniform thickness (about 1/4 in.), slightly on the diagonal. Slicing on the diagonal increases the surface area and, I believe, speeds up cooking time.
Steam carrots, either in a steamer basket in a pot on the stove, or in an electric rice cooker/steamer. I prefer the electric steamer, finding it a bit more foolproof, but a basket would certainly be a cheaper purchase, if you're looking to break into the world of steaming. Either way, be sure the carrots are not in any way submerged in the water, and steam to desired tenderness. I'm not going to tell you how long this takes, because the time will depend on both the thickness of the carrots and your preferred level of doneness. Just taste one after about 10 minutes and judge from there.
Cut the butter into smaller portions; slices are fine, or a dice. The goal is to get them to melt faster, so as long as it isn't just a huge hunk of butter, you'll be fine.
Place butter and brown sugar in the bottom of a medium bowl. When the carrots are done to your liking, discard the steaming water and dump the carrots into the bowl with the butter and sugar. Toss until the butter is melted and brown sugar is dissolved. Season with salt and pepper as desired, and serve.
*Note: you may also use baby carrots right out of the bag, but they will take a few more minutes to steam. They are just as delicious, though, so if these particular carrots are your millieu, go forth with gusto.
Serves 4.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Insalata Caprese (Tomato, Mozzarella, and Basil Salad)
In my husband's family, it is a tradition to get together to celebrate birthdays with a big old stumble-from-the-table-No-please-can-we-wait-for-dessert meal. Part of the tradition is that the birthday boy or girl gets to select the menu, as thoroughly as he or she wishes; perhaps the only request is for Homemade Peach Ice Cream (Lindsay), or Banana Cream Pie (Abe), or perhaps the birthday girl has very specific wishes about every element of the meal (Moriah). Since my summer falls within prime grilling season, I usually ask for Grilled Chicken Kebabs with a fantastic Margarita Marinade. MMMM--good. This year, we're combining my birthday and Lindsay's for a big beach birthday bash. Now, the beach may be good for a lot of things, but it's not a great place to assemble raw chicken into kebabs. Apart from my standard kebabs, I didn't know what to ask for. Lindsay's request was the aforementioned Ice Cream, but I hadn't made any requests until my other sister-in-law, Beth, suggested adding this salad to the menu. When I saw this addition to the list, I made Insalata Caprese (of course, we just call it "That tomato-mozzarella-basil salad") my official birthday request, sealing its position in the birthday feast.
I first had this simple and simply astonishing dish while living with My Aunt Caroline and Uncle Lawrence in Massachusetts. I was fresh out of college, working as a day camp counselor while trying to figure out what to do next. My Aunt Caroline had, at that time, a strict policy about cooking dinner on Fridays: that was, she wouldn't. So regularly, Uncle Lawrence would bring home pizza from Pizzeria Regina or Papa Gino's (I don't recall which at the moment), and we'd feast on good, old-fashioned, greasy, thin-crust pizza. One one particular occasion, though, Aunt Caroline suggested we go out for dinner instead, so we kept with the Italian food theme and headed over to Bertucci's. Bertucci's serves Tuscan-style food--a departure from the food I had traditionally thought as Italian food, food like the rigatoni with meat sauce and hot dog bun garlic bread from Parasson's in Ohio (don't get me wrong--Parasson's was a big and very enjoyable part of my youth, and I'll go there even today). Being from the East Coast, Aunt Caroline and Uncle Lawrence are naturally much more sophisticated eaters than I was at the time, and when they ordered the Caprese Salad, I was timid to try it. It almost seemed too simple. The fresh mozzarella looked a bit...squishy. And I couldn't remember ever having fresh basil before--what on earth would it taste like?
A little slice of heaven, that's what it tasted like.
Meanwhile, in New Jersey, my future roommate-to-be, Beth, was enjoying the same salad. When we moved in together two years later, we both thought we'd introduce the other to this amazing concoction--only to discover that it already held a place on our respective Most Favorite Foods lists. We happily served this salad to guests at our apartment--that is, when it didn't get scarfed up before hitting the table.
I had planned this recipe for a future post, but was prompted by a comment from Gregg to add it now. Great timing, Gregg! Check out his comment on the Apricot-Glazed Pork Chops post. (If you've been reading this blog, you might remember Gregg's mom from my ode to Chicken Salad.)
This is a great salad, but be aware--only the freshest ingredients will make it taste the way nature (or the Italians that invented it) intended. Use fresh, vine-ripened tomatoes (nothing from a greenhouse), fresh basil (not dried), and fresh mozzarella. Not shredded, not sliced--fresh mozzarella has a much softer texture. You might find it in little balls packed in water, called bocconcini. You might just find it in your gourmet cheese case. You probably won't find it near the pre-shredded stuff. Is all this "Fresh ONLY! Or you'll be SORRY!" talk a little food-snobbish? Maybe. But I've tried it with the shortcuts (hothouse tomatoes, shredded mozzarella, dried basil), and it just doesn't hit the mark.
Here it is:
Insalata Caprese
4 medium to large vine-ripened tomatoes, sliced into 1/4-in. slices
1 lb. fresh mozzarella, sliced to similar thickness
1 c. fresh basil leaves, chiffonaded (finely chopped into thin ribbons)
2-3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
sea salt to taste
freshly ground pepper to taste
Layer tomato and mozzarella slices, in such a way that each tomato slice is accompanied by a slice of mozzarella. You could do this in a fan-like arrangement, or simply in flat layers--I don't think it makes much difference. Season the tomatoes and mozzarella with salt and pepper, sprinkle with basil, then drizzle olive oil over all.
Notes:
*To chiffonade, stack basil leaves and roll into a log. Slice through the log to produce these fine, ribbon-like pieces of basil.
*Some people also use vinegar on this salad. You may if you wish, but my understanding is that vinegar tends to "toughen" the mozzarella and "wilt" the tomatoes, so I usually refrain.
I first had this simple and simply astonishing dish while living with My Aunt Caroline and Uncle Lawrence in Massachusetts. I was fresh out of college, working as a day camp counselor while trying to figure out what to do next. My Aunt Caroline had, at that time, a strict policy about cooking dinner on Fridays: that was, she wouldn't. So regularly, Uncle Lawrence would bring home pizza from Pizzeria Regina or Papa Gino's (I don't recall which at the moment), and we'd feast on good, old-fashioned, greasy, thin-crust pizza. One one particular occasion, though, Aunt Caroline suggested we go out for dinner instead, so we kept with the Italian food theme and headed over to Bertucci's. Bertucci's serves Tuscan-style food--a departure from the food I had traditionally thought as Italian food, food like the rigatoni with meat sauce and hot dog bun garlic bread from Parasson's in Ohio (don't get me wrong--Parasson's was a big and very enjoyable part of my youth, and I'll go there even today). Being from the East Coast, Aunt Caroline and Uncle Lawrence are naturally much more sophisticated eaters than I was at the time, and when they ordered the Caprese Salad, I was timid to try it. It almost seemed too simple. The fresh mozzarella looked a bit...squishy. And I couldn't remember ever having fresh basil before--what on earth would it taste like?
A little slice of heaven, that's what it tasted like.
Meanwhile, in New Jersey, my future roommate-to-be, Beth, was enjoying the same salad. When we moved in together two years later, we both thought we'd introduce the other to this amazing concoction--only to discover that it already held a place on our respective Most Favorite Foods lists. We happily served this salad to guests at our apartment--that is, when it didn't get scarfed up before hitting the table.
I had planned this recipe for a future post, but was prompted by a comment from Gregg to add it now. Great timing, Gregg! Check out his comment on the Apricot-Glazed Pork Chops post. (If you've been reading this blog, you might remember Gregg's mom from my ode to Chicken Salad.)
This is a great salad, but be aware--only the freshest ingredients will make it taste the way nature (or the Italians that invented it) intended. Use fresh, vine-ripened tomatoes (nothing from a greenhouse), fresh basil (not dried), and fresh mozzarella. Not shredded, not sliced--fresh mozzarella has a much softer texture. You might find it in little balls packed in water, called bocconcini. You might just find it in your gourmet cheese case. You probably won't find it near the pre-shredded stuff. Is all this "Fresh ONLY! Or you'll be SORRY!" talk a little food-snobbish? Maybe. But I've tried it with the shortcuts (hothouse tomatoes, shredded mozzarella, dried basil), and it just doesn't hit the mark.
Here it is:
Insalata Caprese
4 medium to large vine-ripened tomatoes, sliced into 1/4-in. slices
1 lb. fresh mozzarella, sliced to similar thickness
1 c. fresh basil leaves, chiffonaded (finely chopped into thin ribbons)
2-3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
sea salt to taste
freshly ground pepper to taste
Layer tomato and mozzarella slices, in such a way that each tomato slice is accompanied by a slice of mozzarella. You could do this in a fan-like arrangement, or simply in flat layers--I don't think it makes much difference. Season the tomatoes and mozzarella with salt and pepper, sprinkle with basil, then drizzle olive oil over all.
Notes:
*To chiffonade, stack basil leaves and roll into a log. Slice through the log to produce these fine, ribbon-like pieces of basil.
*Some people also use vinegar on this salad. You may if you wish, but my understanding is that vinegar tends to "toughen" the mozzarella and "wilt" the tomatoes, so I usually refrain.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Crock Pot Baked Potatoes
I am a little embarrassed to even post this as a recipe, and you'll see why, but it seems to have intrigued a couple of my friends, so here it is!
There are a couple of ways to approach this:
First, if you are of the old-school "wrap 'em in foil" way of thinking, you can certainly do that. I would either rub a little olive oil on the potatoes (after thoroughly washing them and piercing them with a knife a couple of times) and wrap them up, or spray a piece of foil with a little non-stick cooking spray, and then wrap.
If you're of the newer, "hold the foil" way of thinking, you can do that. You don't even have to really rub the skins with oil (after you wash and pierce them, of course), though you may.
Now, for my own personal preferences and method:
Crock Pot Baked Potatoes
4 lg. russet potatoes (Klondike Gold potatoes are ridiculously good as well)
Olive Oil
Montreal Steak Seasoning
Wash the potatoes well. Pierce with a knife to allow steam to escape. Lightly rub skins with oil, and sprinkle with seasoning to taste. Arrange in the bottom of a crock pot, and cook for 4 hrs. on high, or 6-8 hrs. on low.
Isn't that so easy, it's silly?
If you're preparing them at the same time as Crock Pot meatloaf, you will probably want to wrap the potatoes in foil. Arrange them around the outside of the meatloaf.
Now, you may be saying "4 potatoes? We won't eat that much!" or "Only 4 potatoes? Oh, I'm gonna need way more than that." To these people, I have this to say:
1)You really want to have the crock pot approximately half full for it to work most efficiently, so I wouldn't do any fewer than 4 potatoes. But even if you won't use them all at once, keep in mind that these potatoes can be used in other recipes later in the week--they make killer fried potatoes for breakfast, or potato salad, or twice baked potatoes, or baked potato soup. Why not cook the potatoes once and use them twice? Save yourself some time.
2)I made baked potatoes in this way for a crowd of 15, and it worked great--kept my kitchen cool, and freed up appliances for other things. Just go ahead and pile the potatoes into your crock--just make sure the lid can close tightly, of course.
There are a couple of ways to approach this:
First, if you are of the old-school "wrap 'em in foil" way of thinking, you can certainly do that. I would either rub a little olive oil on the potatoes (after thoroughly washing them and piercing them with a knife a couple of times) and wrap them up, or spray a piece of foil with a little non-stick cooking spray, and then wrap.
If you're of the newer, "hold the foil" way of thinking, you can do that. You don't even have to really rub the skins with oil (after you wash and pierce them, of course), though you may.
Now, for my own personal preferences and method:
Crock Pot Baked Potatoes
4 lg. russet potatoes (Klondike Gold potatoes are ridiculously good as well)
Olive Oil
Montreal Steak Seasoning
Wash the potatoes well. Pierce with a knife to allow steam to escape. Lightly rub skins with oil, and sprinkle with seasoning to taste. Arrange in the bottom of a crock pot, and cook for 4 hrs. on high, or 6-8 hrs. on low.
Isn't that so easy, it's silly?
If you're preparing them at the same time as Crock Pot meatloaf, you will probably want to wrap the potatoes in foil. Arrange them around the outside of the meatloaf.
Now, you may be saying "4 potatoes? We won't eat that much!" or "Only 4 potatoes? Oh, I'm gonna need way more than that." To these people, I have this to say:
1)You really want to have the crock pot approximately half full for it to work most efficiently, so I wouldn't do any fewer than 4 potatoes. But even if you won't use them all at once, keep in mind that these potatoes can be used in other recipes later in the week--they make killer fried potatoes for breakfast, or potato salad, or twice baked potatoes, or baked potato soup. Why not cook the potatoes once and use them twice? Save yourself some time.
2)I made baked potatoes in this way for a crowd of 15, and it worked great--kept my kitchen cool, and freed up appliances for other things. Just go ahead and pile the potatoes into your crock--just make sure the lid can close tightly, of course.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Authentic Garlic Bread
I first tried this when Judah was a brand-new baby. I was nursing, and Judah had developed quite an intolerance for dairy--in fact, I couldn't so much as butter a piece of toast without having to endure hours of uncomfortable wailing (and that was from Abe). Well, Giada di Laurentiis showed me how to do this, and while I was dubious about its "amazing flavor," I decided to give it a try.
Its only ingredients are bread, oilve oil, and a whole garlic clove, so I doubted it would taste as good as its butter-soaked couterparts. It is, indeed, a very different breed, but no less tasty. And as testament to that fact, I am happily enjoying a couple of slices of this toasty beauty for breakfast this morning.
Authentic Garlic Bread
Good, crusty bread
Olive Oil
1-2 whole garlic cloves, peeled
Preheat the oven to 375.
Slice the bread about 1/4-1/2 in. thick. Arrange on a baking sheet. Brush both sides of the bread with olive oil. Bake for about 7 minutes, then flip the bread so both sides will have a chance to get crusty. Bake for another 7 minutes, or until the bread has reached your desired level of toastiness.
Remove from the oven, and immediately begin rubbing the garlic cloves on the toasted bread.
Then devour.
It's that easy! For an even easier trick, I have also found the rub-with-garlic trick to be effective after toasting bread in a conventional toaster, so if you're short on time or energy and don't have a whole loaf to toast, a toaster works just fine--no need to heat up your oven.
Its only ingredients are bread, oilve oil, and a whole garlic clove, so I doubted it would taste as good as its butter-soaked couterparts. It is, indeed, a very different breed, but no less tasty. And as testament to that fact, I am happily enjoying a couple of slices of this toasty beauty for breakfast this morning.
Authentic Garlic Bread
Good, crusty bread
Olive Oil
1-2 whole garlic cloves, peeled
Preheat the oven to 375.
Slice the bread about 1/4-1/2 in. thick. Arrange on a baking sheet. Brush both sides of the bread with olive oil. Bake for about 7 minutes, then flip the bread so both sides will have a chance to get crusty. Bake for another 7 minutes, or until the bread has reached your desired level of toastiness.
Remove from the oven, and immediately begin rubbing the garlic cloves on the toasted bread.
Then devour.
It's that easy! For an even easier trick, I have also found the rub-with-garlic trick to be effective after toasting bread in a conventional toaster, so if you're short on time or energy and don't have a whole loaf to toast, a toaster works just fine--no need to heat up your oven.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Roasted Green Beans
Trying to pick a recipe for this first post sounded difficult; I wanted to choose something unique, something easy, something you won't find elsewhere on the internet. But when it came right down to it, making a selection wasn't hard at all. These delicious beans fit the bill: they are so easy, mostly hands-off, and a wonderful change of pace from steamed green beans. Also, they go down easy--they are every bit as good as fries, but a whole lot more nutritious!
Roasted Green Beans (from Cooks Illustrated)
1 lb. fresh green beans
1-2 Tbsp. olive oil
Kosher Salt
Freshly ground pepper
Wash and snap the green beans. Dry thoroughly, so the oil won't slide off of the beans.
Preheat oven to 450. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil (don't skip this part--the foil aids in browning).
Toss the green beans with the oil, and arrange in a single layer on the baking sheet. Sprinkle with Kosher salt. (Save the pepper for later--it can scorch in the hot oven)
Roast for 10-12 minutes, then flip them around a bit and return the to the oven. Roast for an additional 10-12 minutes, or until beans start getting a little bit browned.
Remove from the oven and salt and pepper to taste.
Roasted Green Beans (from Cooks Illustrated)
1 lb. fresh green beans
1-2 Tbsp. olive oil
Kosher Salt
Freshly ground pepper
Wash and snap the green beans. Dry thoroughly, so the oil won't slide off of the beans.
Preheat oven to 450. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil (don't skip this part--the foil aids in browning).
Toss the green beans with the oil, and arrange in a single layer on the baking sheet. Sprinkle with Kosher salt. (Save the pepper for later--it can scorch in the hot oven)
Roast for 10-12 minutes, then flip them around a bit and return the to the oven. Roast for an additional 10-12 minutes, or until beans start getting a little bit browned.
Remove from the oven and salt and pepper to taste.
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