Category: Food & Drink

You know what they say. When the going gets tough, the tough get cooking. I’m making bread today, and that’s the only kind of uprising I want to think about.

Our freezer is pretty full right now, so we’re making an effort to put a dent in that. Not like it’s a problem, because we have the best freezer food in town! Last night we had the leftover Kabocha Squash Red Curry from the freezer.

This curry is one of my new favorite recipes. The coconut milk held up in the freezer and didn’t separate when I reheated it, but the squash almost disappeared. Taste was great, though. I also used the pomegranate seeds I froze, and that was a huge success.

We had a pomegranate tree when we lived in Texas, and we never ate them. Boy, do I regret that now. While they are a PITA to clean, pom seeds are delicious and add such a punch to this curry, along with chopped roasted peanuts and cilantro.

I remember the first time we tasted cilantro – 1978. We bought it at a small Asian market, because we needed it for a recipe, and the big grocery stores didn’t sell it. We thought it was awful, and I know there are plenty of people who still think that. Or they have that genetic thing that makes it taste like soap. We love cilantro now and can’t get enough.

I’m also defrosting a tub of my stuffed cabbage rolls for dinner tonight. I’m making rye bread to go with. I use the basic no-knead method, but I add a tablespoon of caraway seeds. This time, I also substituted pickle juice for half the water. We saved the juice from a jar of Kosher dills.

The bread is still rising, but I sampled the dough, and I love the taste of the pickle juice in there. I may tinker with quantities, but I’m betting this is a keeper.

Since we’ve been eating reasonably healthy the last couple of days, I told Dale he could make something decadent Monday if he wants. Of course, I have an ulterior motive. I’m playing golf, and I love coming home to one of his kitchen creations.

I strongly suspect he’ll go with burgers, which he has been craving. In my view, they aren’t really all that indulgent. We make ours with bison. I guess the issue is that not a lot of vegetables are involved.

Dale roasted a whole chicken late last week, and we have leftovers from that. We already had chicken tortilla soup and froze two servings. I volunteered to make chicken divan, a retro casserole made with broccoli, chicken, canned cream soup, cheddar cheese and breadcrumbs.

I thought about making it without the canned soup, as we generally avoid processed food. But seriously, if we have it twice a year, I can’t think the canned soup is the worst thing I’ll eat. Plus, I know it tastes great the way I make it, so why mess with a good thing?

As far as death by food goes, I’ve been reconsidering cold cereal. I loved cereal when I was younger, but it’s not as healthy as you’d think. I try to mostly eat real food that doesn’t come out of a package. Plus, there’s the issue of acrylamides, which is a carcinogen that is actually in many foods. A lot of boxed breakfast cereals are packed with acrylamides.

I gave up cereal about 15 years ago. About the same time I gave up sodas. I don’t miss either one of them, but lately I’ve been thinking, oh, would a bowl of Cheerios kill me? Something else is probably going to get me first. Upon further reflection, I see no reason to start up again. If I want some cold cereal-like thing, I eat my homemade granola, which is basically oats and nuts.

The rest of the week is up for grabs. The weather is turning slightly warmer for a few days, so I want to take advantage of that. Golf, walking. We’ve both become so wussy about cold. Low 50s, and we can barely force ourselves to go outside.

Dale, being from Maine, used to advertise himself as the cold weather model, but he’s gone California now.

Dale and I don’t have a big urge to travel. Not that we’ve seen everything, but we lived in Germany and Egypt, moved more than 20 times and vacationed in some pretty amazing places around the world. For the most part, we’re content to scoot around California in the car.

That said, COVID 19 has tested us. Before the pandemic, we rarely dined out. Most of the time we can make it better at home. It has been a year since we ate in a restaurant, and I find myself relishing in the memories of spectacular regional food.

• Steamed blue crabs in Maryland
• Pressed duck in France
• Weinerschnitzel in Germany
• Fried whole belly clams in Maine
• Paella in Spain
• Stacked enchiladas in New Mexico
• Barbequed brisket in Fort Worth
• Greek salad in Crete
• Grilled conch in Cozumel
• Fish and chips in Britain
• Steak in Ogallala
• Giant prawns in Phuket

We’ve learned to prepare many of the foods we miss, but some dishes are hard to replicate. I find myself thinking about an inn we stayed at in France, where they brought us a perfect croissant for breakfast and a big cup of dark coffee mixed with steamed milk. Or a monster bowl of phở at a strip mall café in Little Saigon. I can see myself sitting at the restaurant savoring every bite.

Both of us are starting to think about changes we’ll to make to our lives when this is over. I mean, we’re not going to hit the open road, but I do think we’ll travel a bit more. Eat some great food. Make more of an effort to enjoy time with friends. Create some new memories.

In the meantime, I leave you with this challenge. If you can go anywhere to eat anything when the pandemic is over, where would you go? What would you eat? It’s tough to decide, and it’s OK to keep changing your mind (indecision should make the game last longer and possibly get us to summer). Oh, and money is no object.

I would go to New Orleans and have a fried soft shell crab po’ boy. Per the rules, that’s my choice. But since I’m there anyway, I would have an oyster po’ boy and maybe a muffuletta. Some etouffee.

So, OK, break the rules. What’s on your list?

Although I’ve been making yummy English muffins since the pandemic blew into town, Dale always thought the muffins were a tad small. His specific complaint was about sausage-to-muffin ratio. He has his reasons, which I shall explain.

Dale makes delicious breakfast sandwiches starting with one of my toasted muffins and topping it with pan-seared sausage patties, melted cheddar cheese and a smattering of mustard. I do believe we could sell them on the street and live comfortably off the proceeds.

However, the sausage patties are slightly bigger than the muffins and hang over the edge. I’m usually the anal one, but that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I like to go around in a circle and bite off the edges. You know, just to tidy things up. In this case, Dale is much more persnickety and asked if I could make the muffins larger so the sausage fits well within the confines of the muffin.

You know, of course, all this is privileged nonsense, but we really don’t have much else going on. Welcome to my retired pandemic life.  Today, we’re talking about breakfast!

Anyway, the no-knead English Muffin recipe is from the Washington Post, and it was just ranked their fifth most popular recipe of the year. First, the dough rises four to five hours in the bowl. Then you shape muffin-like things out of the dough and put them on a sheet pan to rise in the refrigerator overnight.

Normally, the recipe makes a dozen muffins. Yesterday, vowing to go big or go home, I somehow ended up with seven. In my math, seven is 12 when you’ve had three beers.

When my brewer’s dozen uncooked muffins came out of the refrigerator in the morning, I plopped some butter in a cast iron pan and slowly browned them. The muffins grow as they cook.

And how mine grew! They are huge. Approximately four inches in diameter, which is more along the lines of a burger bun. I was pissed that I got hoodwinked into sabotaging a perfect recipe, but other than some low-key muttering, I kept my mouth shut. It was my choice, after all.

By the way, low-key muttering is an iffy thing. For us, a lot of it depends on Dale’s hearing aids and whether they are working properly. One time I thought my muttering was just for my own amusement, but his hearing aids were highly tuned, and he heard every vile thing I said.

When I was finished cooking, I came upstairs to let him know he was on his own with the muffins. It may be that we don’t eat them for his world-famous breakfast sandwiches, but perhaps we split one instead? I said I’m playing golf early tomorrow and won’t be here to try them. Do whatever you want. I view them as monstrosities.

Monstrosities was the siren call. Dale immediately marched downstairs to get a sneak preview and said they looked absolutely great to him. I mean other than being size-forward, they do look pretty good. I’ve decided to get over my snit and lovingly accept them into our family of food.

And you know, the weird thing about cooking is sometimes you end up with happy mistakes. They might turn out to be the best English muffins ever. Maybe this is what they could have been all along, if someone had simply taken the time to consume three beers before shaping the dough.

I don’t know why apple pie has to be so hard. Soggy bottom crust, mushy apples, unnecessary feedback from your spousal unit. It’s one betrayal after another.

This year, I dug out a recipe from the Cook’s Illustrated site, which I subscribe to. Classic Apple Pie. I was tempted to use a different crust but decided to follow the recipe exactly. Because I’m a rules-follower. I’m not always rewarded for such allegiance, but that’s how I roll.

Their recipe called for a mix of Granny Smith and McIntosh apples. I knew the McIntosh would be hard to find, so I read through the comments and saw Pink Lady or Jonagold would be good substitutes. I used Pink Lady. I hate apple pie that has the consistency of apple sauce, so getting that part right was important.

At least it was to me.

The dough was a little dry and difficult to work with. I had to patch it in places, and it was too thick in some areas, but I couldn’t get it to roll out any thinner without cracks. I will say the pie cooked beautifully and looked perfect. However, I have experience with soap opera apple pie – the bad and the beautiful – so I assumed nothing.

Dinner was exceptional. The turkey was crisp on the outside and juicy in the middle, the stuffing was savory with crusty bits and the creamy mashed potatoes were like pillows waiting to be kissed with succulent gravy love. OK, that was a little over the top, but it was damned good. We shared a bottle of Pinot Noir.

We should have just stopped there and skipped dessert. But noooooo. There would be pie.

The texture of the apples was perfect and the seasoning was divine, but the crust was unevenly cooked, and Dale said the flavor wasn’t as good as my regular crust. I focused on the positives and raved about the consistency of the apples, when Dale said it didn’t matter to him. It could be applesauce, as long as the crust was good.

WRONG ANSWER.

Why am I busting my ass finding the perfect recipe if all I have to do is scoop out some apple sauce and throw a slab of crust on top? I was in kind of a snit when I went to bed. That’s why I woke up early ruminating about what went wrong with the apple pie.

Lying there in bed, I decided first to cancel my Cook’s Illustrated subscription. Fuck them. They think they’re so smart. Then I decided I’d go back to Ina Garten’s recipe for apple crostata, except I’d use this Cook’s Illustrated filling and a different crust recipe. And I’d probably have to adjust the cooking time. I planned to spend my day gathering all the recipes and creating a new one.

Then we got up and settled in for breakfast. Honestly, I was still full, so I just started with coffee. Dale went for the apple pie. I’m like, you don’t have to eat that. You’re under no obligation. I’m prepared to toss it. And then I couldn’t stop myself. It just came out.

If you prefer, I’ll just find you some apple sauce and throw a little crust on top.

Well, in terms of responses, that was not my best choice. All he said was, “Just stop it.”

Still, I was kind of happy thinking about what it would look like as it got sucked into the garbage disposal while I watched Dale gobble it up like it was his last meal. Because I was thinking, it could well be.

He practically licked the plate and then looked up and said, “I’m not sucking up to you, but that pie was absolutely delicious.”

What? I cut myself a small piece. Just a sliver, because I see more gravy in my future. But he was right. While the crust was still a bit unevenly cooked, most of it was crisp, crumbly and yummy. Perhaps everything tastes better when you don’t eat like you’ll be visiting the vomitorium later.

I’m not canceling my subscription to Cook’s Illustrated. They are fine people, and I’m sorry I said those bad things about them. I made notes to the recipe, which I will make again, but I’ll tinker with the pastry dough or use my other go-to crust recipe.

And so another Thanksgiving comes to a close. Even after three years of being retired, it still feels like a four-day weekend. I’m looking forward to lots of leftovers. Perhaps even another piece of pie.

At this stage of our lives, we try not to load up on stuff, but kitchen necessities are a special category. Although we’re cautious about what we buy, it seems like we’ve been spending a lot. We’ve purchased a few relatively inexpensive tools, but you know, everything adds up.  

Two things broke, and we replaced them. We bought a new can opener ($19.95) and a new immersion blender ($50). Our choice was a no-nonsense 2-Speed Kitchenaid Immersion Blender. We don’t make smoothies, so we don’t need ice-crushing power. I pretty much use it for mayonnaise and to puree soups and sauces. The Kuhn Rikon can opener is slick.  

We upgraded several tools, including a fantastic new citrus juicer ($22.29). I’ve pretty much moved on from mojitos to margaritas, but both need copious amounts of lime, so I rest my case.  

For 20 years, I used a tortilla press with a wobbly hinge. I replaced it with this beauty by Victoria ($36.89). It’s the same size as my old one – 6.5 inches – but I cannot believe the difference. It’s heavy and presses an exceptionally smooth tortilla. I’ve also used it to flatten out naan.

Next up was the hand mixer. Dale had the Sunbeam before he met me, so we’re thinking it’s 46 years old. There was a power surge button that is held together with duct tape, but other than that, it seemed to work fine. The two main things I use it for are to beat egg whites for souffles and to whip mashed potatoes. And yes, I know there are more foodie ways to mash potatoes.

Anyway, I thought my egg whites weren’t stiff enough, so we went with a new hand mixer. I bought the Kitchenaid 5-speed directly from Kitchenaid ($50). The beaters are very different. The new design seems to be a technological advancement. I’ve been super-impressed with the results on egg whites and mashies. Anything more complicated than that, I use the heavy-duty stand mixer.

The final upgrade is a new panini maker. We had the original Cousinart Griddler, which did not have a floating hinge to adjust for thicker sandwiches. The plates were not removable, either. Still, we used it for 12 years with great success.

Dale really wanted one with a floating hinge. Removable plates are a nice feature as well. I researched all the big brands and went with the upgraded Cousinart Griddler ($79). The floating hinge is not exactly a floating hinge, according to Dale, but the height is adjustable, which has the same effect, so he’s good with it. It does more than we need, but it’s not gigantic. We’re not likely to use it as an indoor grill, but you never know.

One of the features I like is that you can buy extra plates and use the Griddler to make waffles. I’ve been, well, waffling about buying a stand-alone waffle maker for years, but I don’t think we would eat waffles often enough to justify it. The Griddler might not make the world-class Belgian waffles of your dreams, but as least we’ll have waffles at home, which I can have with real syrup. Waffle plates are still on my wish list.

The last three items on this shopping spree gone mad are new, as in not a replacement. I’ve been drooling over all the gorgeous bundt pans that are available now, but I just don’t see me making many bundt cakes. So far, I’ve successfully dodged that bullet.

However, I did succumb to a basic scone pan ($31.41). You don’t really need one, but mine become quite irregular when they bake, and I like the idea of containing them for a more uniform shape. I ordered the pan from King Arthur, because it was on sale, and I was getting other stuff anyway.

Also in the baking category, I ordered four stainless steel 6-inch pie pans ($31.94) I love to make savory pies, and I like the idea of making two for us and two for the freezer. The pie pans should arrive tomorrow, just in time to make these mini chicken pot pies from Ree Drummond.

Finally, I bought a rack ($49.99) for drying pasta. I like to make pasta earlier in the day, so I don’t have to mess with it when it comes times to start cooking. The rack keeps the pasta from sticking together as it sits. This little guy works great.

As for spending a lot, now that I add it up, it doesn’t seem so bad. Total cost was $371.47. We haven’t eaten in a restaurant or been anywhere in eight months. But we eat well, and sometimes you just gotta have the right tool for the job.

In theory, I subscribe to the rule of 1 for 1 … you buy something new, you get rid of something else. I have plans to gift the panini maker, but I can’t quite seem to part with that hand mixer. Maybe those new-fangled beaters will turn out to be a hoax. I don’t know … something is telling me to keep it.