Holiday Dip/Schmear

It’s crunch time at the day job, so I don’t have anything terribly sophisticated or involved today. But then again, that’s probably not a bad thing. The holidays are complex and stressful enough as it is, and given how elaborate and involved the cooking on Thanksgiving, Chanukah, and Christmas tends to be, it’s not a bad idea to have something that you can throw together quickly and without much effort. Assuming you have a food processor, that is. If you don’t, this recipe is probably not in your future, although a blender might suffice in a pinch.

Anyway, this is dip season, as far as I’m concerned. Yes, during other times of the year we all like salsa or guacamole with chips, but this is the time of year when you start to throw together all manner of dairy-based gooey concoctions that you then eat with reckless abandon on chips, crackers, bread rounds, or whatever. This is a favorite dip of mine, although as the title indicates, it can serve as either dip or schmear, depending on context. Hell, if you're a fan of the lesser works of a bygone comedy troupe, you can call it "The Salmon Mousse" in a sepulchral voice. Knock yourself out.

Pepper-Seared Tuna, Limited Illustration Version

Why “Limited Illustration,” you ask?

(I know, I know, you don’t care. Play along.)

Chicken Curry, Improvised Ersatz Version

Authenticity? Never heard of it.

Every time I venture into Asian cooking, I always feel I need to acknowledge that I don’t really know what I’m doing.* But the truth is, so many heinous things have been called “curries” or “stir-fries” or whatever over the years, that I tend to go into preemptive apology mode when I try something like today’s dish.

So for the record, I am not an expert on Thai cooking or on Southeast Asian cuisines in general. I’m just an amateur cook with access to an Asian market. Mind you, I’m not sure whom I think is going to chastise me. I’m reasonably certain that there is no Thai culinary police out there, although if I’m wrong, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t turn me in.

The Problem with Chefs' Cookbooks

I am not a chef. I’m a decent home cook, but I’m not a chef. Never have been, never will be. The word chef gets thrown around far too freely these days, largely due to an influx of “TV chefs” from the Food Network. But a chef is not just a good cook; a chef is a trained professional who runs a restaurant kitchen. This is something I have no experience with—from everything I’ve read, I would be reduced to a gibbering wreck after ten minutes in a restaurant kitchen.

Muffins, Old School

Remember the pre-Starbucks America? The one where coffee was a weak-flavored, brown liquid that cost less than a dollar and came with never-ending free refills?

Thank god those days are over. That shit was vile. If you’re too young to remember those days, grab a cup of drip coffee that’s been sitting all day on a warming burner at a gas station, and you’ll get some idea.

We will return to your regularly scheduled program...

Things have been busier than usual with the day job in the last few weeks, so there has been little cooking of interest going on--or rather, no cooking worth writing about, at least. I'm hoping to get another post up soon. For what it's worth, btw, if anyone has a recipe they would like me to tackle and (amateurishly) photograph, I'm open to suggestions. 

In the meantime, I direct you to this piece written by NPR's Linda Holmes. She blogs about popular culture for NPR, and is the host of a truly delightful podcast called Pop Culture Happy Hour, which I cannot recommend highly enough if you are interested in television, movies, theatre, and/or music. 

In this case, she's written a very funny takedown of contemporary menu speak, which is one of my pet peeves. If, like me, you're old enough to remember when dishes had names, it can be particularly irritating to read of "Unicorn Ranch Free-Range Tofu Braised in Willamette Valley Shallot Confit with Wildebeest Reduction," or whatever. Ms. Holmes seems to understand. 

[Inarticulate Scream of Frustration]

1. Make sauce

2. Boil water


3. Realize I’m out of pasta

I write a food blog.

#sadreally 
#Juliaisspinninginhergrave
#goingto711tobuypizzarolls

Addendum

OK, I still want to emphasize that everyone should give the Chinese Braised Pork Belly a go. It's amazing. Really. It's a recipe from Michelle Humes at Serious Eats. 

But I’m not one to ignore the practicalities of everyday life. And although people seemed to think the preceding recipe looked great, a lot of people complained.

Chinese Braised Pork Belly

OK, this one is a bit of an undertaking. I’m aware of that. It may not be easy to find the necessary ingredients. I’m aware of that, too. And it’s time consuming. But hear me out. Because this one was amazingly good. Seriously, it was. And I don’t say that as a boast—I was just following directions. But damn. If you can get the requisite ingredients, you have to try this.

Vegans, vegetarians, and pescetarians: sorry, but I got nothing for you on this one. Check back next time.

A Salt Lick for Humans

So. I’m back.

I was talking with someone about this blog this summer, and she spoke the fateful words “Yes, but now you have to keep it going.” Argh. ‘Twas a curse. The day job got busy, the dog ate my homework, etc. Sorry.

Chicken Thighs au Pépin

We return to the works of Jacques Pépin this time. As mentioned before, Pépin has been really innovative in making French cuisine and French tastes more accessible to American cooks, and really, to home cooks in general. Classic French cuisine was largely derived from the cooking of professional chefs, primarily via the works of Auguste Escoffier. Although he is a classically trained chef, Pépin has been extremely successful in adapting French (or French-influenced) cooking for weeknights—as much as I love JC, her books lean more toward the spend-a-weekend-afternoon-making-dinner end of the spectrum rather than to fast-dinner-thrown-together-after-a-long-day end.

Pépin is particularly skilled with chicken, in my opinion, and so I’m showcasing his method of cooking chicken thighs this time. We’re really talking more about a technique rather than a recipe on this one. Once you’ve cooked them, you can serve them plain (my tendency), or make a deglazing sauce (Pépin’s approach), but they lend themselves to other applications as well. I’ve been known to dunk them in Buffalo sauce and serve them with celery sticks and blue cheese dressing, and was quite pleased with the results.

Potato Pancakes

T.S. Eliot was wrong; August is the cruelest month, not April.

April: cool and rainy. August: swelteringly hot and dry (in my neck of the woods, anyway).

I’m back. Sort of. The day job has been keeping me ridiculously busy, so I’ve not done any blog-worthy cooking. Or rather, I have, but nothing I could say anything witty or original about. For instance, the mega-talented J. Kenji Lopez-Alt of Serious Eats created this amazing recipe for the best gazpacho I’ve ever had. But given that I did exactly what he says (aside from straining the finished soup, because I’m lazy and straining is boring), there really wasn’t any value added to my version, if you’ll excuse my use of bureaucrat-ese.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled Asian noodle post

OK, this was originally going to be post about an Asian noodle dish that I stumbled across in the "Recipes" folder on my computer. There were a few little warning signs here and there, like the fact I had failed to note where the recipe came from, or that the file name was called "Dan Dan Noodles" but the text called the dish "Sichuan Noodles." But I was in the mood for Chinese noodles, so I pressed on and made the dish, taking photos throughout the process so I could share it with y'all. 

And then I sat down and ate it. And it wasn't very good. It wasn't horrible, mind you. Just kind of blah and uninspired. The sort of thing that I would not want my culinary reputation hanging on. And while it wasn't an ordeal to put together, it required a fair number of ingredients that I don't always have on hand. So with a great sigh and much cursing, I decided to scrap it, at least for now. Anyone who wants to share a good recipe for Dan Dan Noodles (which was what I was in the mood for in the first place), please email me or paste it into the comments below. 

Edible Harlotry

Yes, yes, I know that the name “Pasta alla Puttanesca” means “Pasta in the style of a prostitute,” or “Harlot’s pasta,” or (in the words of Nigella Lawson) “Slut’s Spaghetti.” Take your pick. Most cookbooks that feature this recipe give you some whimsical nudge-nudge-wink-wink explanation for the name. The most ludicrous, to my mind, are the numerous books that claim Italian prostitutes would attract clients by preparing this dish. Because that’s what men go to brothels for—the cooking.

Ceci n’est pas houmous.

Did you catch my painfully eloquent reference to Belgian surrealist painter René Magritte? This is what happens when you let your children major in the humanities; they use their obscenely expensive education to make arcane jokes on a food blog. I’m a cautionary tale, people—don’t let your children learn to appreciate a standard of living that they will never be able to afford.

Duck a l'orange, Revised Multicultural Edition

We return to the works of Nigella Lawson this time, with a rather nice way to deal with a duck breast. Several stores in my area carry frozen duck breasts, and although they’re not cheap, they’re affordable enough that I can indulge in them from time to time. However, the duck breast isn’t mandatory by any means—indeed, before I lived in a locale where duck was readily available, I used to make this recipe with a nice little strip steak, which works beautifully. A tuna steak will also suffice should you prefer to avoid red meat altogether. If you wish to avoid animal protein entirely, I suspect that a Portobello mushroom, marinated and grilled/broiled would work reasonably well, although I confess I haven’t tried it myself.

Pan Bagnat

 

I decided it would be nice to make something a bit more summery this time, since we are finally starting to get warmer weather around here. This is my take on Pan Bagnat (sometimes spelled Pan Bagna), a meal-size sandwich from Provence. There are a lot of different versions of this sandwich, some of which involve potatoes, or green beans, or olives, or hard-boiled eggs, and various other elements native to the south of France.

I don’t remember exactly where I first came across a recipe for Pan Bagnat; I do know that it was from a magazine article rather than from a sojourn in Provence. Tant pis. But this is the version I’ve been making for years, and it suits my taste, even if I can’t verify its authenticity. But to paraphrase something JC once said, the thing to do is serve it forth and proclaim that yours is the one and only true version. So once again, no “original” recipe here, but you can head over to Epicurious or other recipe websites if you want to learn of other versions. Mine is the only true one, though. 

Pasta with Gorgonzola

This is a little something I dreamed up while visiting my local Italian deli. As I am prone to impulse buying where food is concerned, I picked up some Gorgonzola Dolce (a softer, creamier take on the standard, more aged Gorgonzola cheese), some pancetta, and some pasta. This was combined with some cream and some asparagus (health!) for a fairly quick little dinner. It’s not light fare, but the nights are still chilly here in the mountains, so hearty fare is not unwelcome. 

English Roast Potatoes

I’m back. Let’s pretend y’all are excited by this.

April is the cruelest month where my day job is concerned, so I’m just now coming up for air. Although I’ve cooked a few interesting things here and there, I haven’t had the time or the energy to write about them.

Until now.

Happy Kiss-Me-I’m-a-Drunk-Caucasian Day

As anyone who has seen me in person can attest, I am not of Irish ancestry. So when it comes to St. Patrick’s Day, I’m not that interested. I don’t wear green, or get more drunk than usual. Nor do I consume green-tinted beer, or green-tinted anything else, for that matter. 

Musings on Processed Foods, Special Equine Edition

Food has been in the news quite a bit over the last few weeks, and for the most part, the news has not been good. Horse meat, it seems, has found its way into a large number of processed foods, and is appearing in various European retailers labeled as beef in hamburgers, lasagne, Swedish meatballs (say it ain’t so, IKEA) and other products. There is a Trojan horse joke to be made here, but I’m far too classy to make it.

Vegetables, Roasted

Having celebrated Pancake Day (alias Mardi Gras) in the last post, we shall discuss something more abstemious now that we have entered the Lenten season. For the moment, anyway—self-denial is not really in my nature. Nor are the dishes I’m talking about today particularly ascetic. Not from a flavor perspective, at any rate.

I’ve never been all that wild about boiling or steaming things. There are obvious exceptions, of course—one has to boil or steam some starches, like rice or pasta. But I generally prefer to use so-called “dry” cooking methods whenever possible—sautéing, for instance, or baking, or roasting.

Happy Belated Pancake Day

I’m back. Miss me?

I’m going to pretend you said yes.

The day job has been busier than usual of late, and life has thrown one or two curves my way, so I haven’t been able to post anything for a while. Also, I haven’t really cooked anything of note lately. Sometimes, you just come home, make your damned dinner, watch a bit of TV, and go to bed. Nothing interesting, culinarily or otherwise.

Homemade soup is quick and easy, despite what you've heard

As I mentioned in a previous entry, I recently came down with a bad cold that prevented me from writing up this post earlier. But now that I am restored to health, I am returning to soup. There is an odd notion in this country that the making of soup is a long, involved, laborious process. I have no idea where this belief comes from [cough—Campbell's—cough], but I am here to debunk it; the vast majority of soups can be made in less than an hour. And yes, while there are some labor-intensive soups out there (I’m looking at you, French Onion Soup), you can make homemade soup on a weeknight without straining yourself unduly.

Traffic Alert

Let's be careful out there, folks. 

Cooking under the weather

Here’s a quick dish that I almost didn’t post because it’s pretty trivial, really. But there has been a clamor for more posts. Really, there has been . . . seriously . . . OK, fine, one person asked me. So here’s a quick one to tide us all over until I have the time and energy to post something more substantive.

Timing

A few days ago, I was talking to a friend about cooking Christmas dinner, and the subject of timing came up—specifically, the subject of how to time a dinner party or holiday party so that the dinner was ready when the guests were ready to eat (or vice versa, I suppose). It’s exceedingly frustrating to try to have people over for dinner, only to find that the turkey you have been lovingly roasting all afternoon is done 3 hours before anyone arrives, or that your guests are on their fourth round of cocktails and you’re still in the kitchen, frantically trying to convince the beans to soften, or the onions to brown, or whatever.

Lentil Cassoulet

We inaugurate the new year with another Julia-Child-inspired recipe, alternately known as Lentilles Garnies or Lentilles en Cassoulet, or Gratin of Lentils with Meat. Given my day job, it borders on heretical for me to say that the English version of the name is the least poetic, but there it is. Let's compromise and call it "Lentil Cassoulet."