1–10 of 193 entries in the category: Kitchen Talk
Trond’s family is visiting from Norway for a bit. In turn, we gave them their first American Thanksgiving to remember. Trond and D could sit outside smoking cigars, drinking red wine, and talking about “football” and other European nonsense all day if you’d let them. So I did.
Also: why don’t we eat turkey more often? I had forgotten how much I love turkey. The way it makes the house smell when it is cooking, the leftovers. I am thinking about cooking one for us this week. (The gem photographed was cooked by other friends who attended.)
I hope your Thanksgiving was as happy as ours! And that you had as many lovely European men to charm with your cooking.
My grandmother has (had) a freezer full of Schwann’s food she will not eat; cuts of meat, frozen vegetables, chocolate pies. This was Leonard’s food, but he isn’t going to
enjoy digest these meats from heaven. So, we have been. Little by little at each weekly visit, I bring home another box of frozen food. Our freezer, by comparison, is much smaller.
This weekend was the last haul and it included a 1.5 pound bag of frozen peas. I had a rotisserie chicken in the fridge that wasn’t going to be eaten in time, and a full, glorious day off yesterday to goof off around the house. The result: lots of homemade chicken stock and a huge pot of chicken and pea soup.
Never mind it is still 90 degrees here, and we literally turned on the air conditioning to eat our soup dinner in comfort last night: I officially declare it soup season!
Also, sadly after a brush with a burner, we will need a new immersion blender. Plastic gets melty so fast! Jeez.
6 ripe pears, cored
1 cup red wine — pinot noir, or something fruity
1/4 cup sugar
2 tablespoons butter
Place cored pears in a baking dish. In a sauce pan, whisk sugar and wine, until dissolved. Add butter, mixing thoroughly. Pour over pears. Bake at 350 degrees for 25 minutes. Serve with vanilla bean ice cream. Delicious!
Menu: roast chicken with fingerling potatoes and carrots, cheese-stuffed, bacon-wrapped dates, salad + flourless chocolate cakes with warm raspberry sauce + vanilla ice cream.
Our first dinner party in this home was a success!
Lease signed. Utilities turned on. Truck en route from New Jersey to Arizona, brimming with our belongings. I do believe this calls for some celebratory guacamole.
(When doesn’t life call for celebratory guacamole?)
Along with grilled veggies, slabs of peppered steak and bowls of over ripe watermelon. It feels like even this crazy summer heat is worthy of celebration.
Arizona living: spicy food, cold drinks, great friends.
D and I are going paleo. This is the first week, and I would lick this computer screen if I thought it would give me the tiniest hit of sugar. Or a bump of booze. Or just a tiny crunch of foods I’ve never even craved before — like salt and vinegar potato chips.
So, yeah. It’s going swimmingly. We are both sleeping and feeling better already, but boy, am I in a mood. And oh! Is there anything more self-indulgent and douchey than writing about what you aren’t letting yourself eat, while perched in the land of plenty? No. No, my dear, there is not. As such, how about a few tips and recipes for those also going the way of the cave folk:
The first week is expensive. You’ve got a lot of weird purchases to manage that will only be occasional, like coconut oil, aminos, etc. Suck it up and buy the best quality you can muster. It will make the first bit a lot easier if your food tastes great. And it should. There is no reason why great meat and vegetables shouldn’t make your mouth water.
If you are looking for a creative paleo cookbook, I’m a fan of this one. We are eating a lot of meals from Melissa’s book during the next two weeks. Also, get a large cup that you like to drink out of and take it with you everywhere. It may be a Nalgene, or a glass goblet if that suits your fancy. The point is: it is a lot easier to get through sugar cravings and faux happy hour when you have had plenty of water. The headaches will suck less. Naps are a plus too, if you can sneak them in.
First paleo recipe I’m willing to share: Cupcake Eggs. Either use coconut oil or spray to cover the cups before inserting several pieces of nitrate-free sliced deli meat, forming a cup. I used 8 eggs, whipped, and distributed them over the cups evenly. Then I added a hefty spoonful of salsa to each and topped them with scallions and a dash of pepper. In the oven at 350 for 20 minutes. They are delicious, and hit the spot after a hard run first thing in the morning — you don’t even miss the cheese. Or the delicious tortilla in which this could be wrapped. Or the refried beans.
Next week will be easier. Off to find more water and that nap.
Prosecco, melon + prosciutto, turkey + artichoke stuffed shells, summer berry cobbler — a summer dinner shared with friends:
This recipe does not disappoint; I made the meatballs too big this time, but next time — I will make twice as many, half as big and freeze the second half for other recipes. It is quick, healthy and delicious.
Nice work, Panda!
Snow returned to Golden this week; we woke up yesterday morning to inches stacked on the patio furniture, and two prissy dogs who did not want to have to go outside. Chilly weather and heavy foods pair so well. I am trying to use what we have in the pantry so it doesn’t have to be moved. The meals have been a bit of a mishmash, but last night’s was a hit: sausage, mushroom risotto, asparagus and strawberries with cream for dessert.
I did have to hit the market for the veggies. My shelf of canned goods from last summer’s garden is sadly down to one jar of peach jam and three of apple chutney. There is only so much chutney one girl can eat.
I am hoping wherever I land, it isn’t too late to get another garden started. At a minimum, basil, tomatoes and cucumbers should be planted. With any luck, the next home will have fruit trees and space in the kitchen for canning.
I’m my Grandmother Max’s protege: she who lived in a dozen homes over her years always had a garden going, and always had a good meal on the stove. Creating a home was a attitude, not a permanency of address. (My mama is the same way. She just had the luck to live in fewer places, and as a result — had bigger gardens. There is a deeper roots joke here somewhere.)
Here is to hoping warm Spring arrives soon!