7 posts tagged “cooking”

I've been cooking since I was 10. My best friend found this quite impressive, as she wasn't allowed in the kitchen when her mother made dinner. With 7 kids, her mother found it easier to banish them all than to try to teach them to cook. My mother, on the other hand, went back to work when I was 3, and she needed all the help she could get.

I knew how to light the old gas stove with a match when I was about 8. I was frying chicken when I was 11. As a young adult, I considered myself a great cook, as did my friends. When I think about my limited abilities then, I have to laugh at my reputation.

I'm still known as a great cook, probably better than I actually am. I'm a simple cook. I don't make gourmet food. I'll spend hours on some dishes, but I don't make anything that's too complicated, has a large amount of ingredients or calls for something that requires a special trip to the store. And I'm starting to feel like a fraud.

I read a few food blogs - The Accidental Hedonist, Eat at Joe's, and Michael Ruhlman's are my favorites. I read them every day.I check out others occasionally, and I often don't know what people are talking about. They use terms I've never heard, talk about ingredients I know nothing about, and do food combinations I've never considered using.

When the discussion on Ruhlman's blog get really animated, I have to back out. I feel like I don't belong there. Some of the commenters on his blog are the worst example of foodies - condescending know-it-alls who will condemn you for using Land O' Lakes butter and call you a hypocrite for not wanting to see a pig being slaughtered. And when they start throwing around the names of high-end restaurants they're so entranced with and chefs they worship, and talking about the food they make, I don't know if I'm out of my league, or if they're just self-important blowhards trying to impress Ruhlman and Anthony Bourdain, who occasionally blogs there.

Maybe they're on to something and I'm being left in the dust. I'm a firm believer in Ina Garten's advice to have about ten recipes that you've mastered, and using them as a jumping off point. That's pretty much how I cook. I do try new things, and I've learned as much from my mistakes as I have from my successes. Even so, I could well be stuck in a rut, and I'm staying too far in my comfort zone. A step out would never hurt me. But do I also have to cook my way through The French Laundry Cookbook to prove to myself I still have it? I gotta say, Thomas Keller scares me.

It's not that I think I'm not good enough; it's more about not feeling adventurous enough, I suppose. I am thinking about cooking my way through a cookbook, but which one? I hate The Joy of Cooking. I'm not doing The French Laundry. I can at least come up with a different book to use. I've considered starting with a section from Mark Bittman's The Best Recipes in the World, broken down by country of origin instead of type of food. I'm so comfortable in my American/faux Italian niche, even that scares me. Which might be the best reason to do it.

I ganked this from Sassy Radish, who occasionally posts on The Accidental Hedonist. Since at least some of my readers are avid cooks, I'd like to know what your cooking essentials are - those items you're lost without. Here's my list:
1. Pasta
2. Canned tomatoes
3. Canned beans
4. Eggs
5. Olive oil
6. Lemons
7. onions
8. Celery
9. Pine nuts
10. Vermouth
11. Wine vinegar
12. Beer
13. Carrots
14. Honey
15. Garlic
16. Rice
17. Thyme
18. Rosemary
19. Bay leaves
20. Chicken stock

Read the responses to Sassy's post. I was happy to see someone else cooks with vermouth as a replacement for white wine. No one else mentioned beer, which I use in my red sauce and my pasta e fagioli.

What's your list? I listed 20 items, but yours can be as long or as short as you want.

Aunt Jenny posted this link in the comments section of my last entry. Aside from the raisins, which I am not a fan of, this sounds like a terrific recipe. Aunt Jenny is a proponent of using great chocolate. Because I can never remember what the hell she keeps telling me to buy, I stick with the Baker's Unsweetened. However, better chocolate can only give you a better brownie.

Of course, I can't go without saying something about a couple of the comments on the recipe.

"I'm currently eating my healthier version of brownies right now! How appropriate! They have no butter but are made lovely and rich by the addition of prunes. Sounds a bit grim but they are delicious!! They can probably be found on the Shape website. Love the idea of the rum soaked raisins"
and
"Recently, I made carob (can't eat chocolate anymore, regrettably) brownies using pureed white beans to cut the butter in half. Worked out marvelously. Here's the post on it."

OK, from what I've heard, carob sucks as a substitute for chocolate in baking, but the commenter can't eat chocolate, so I'll let that go.  What I can't let go is the obsession with making absolutely everything you stick in your mouth healthy. Brownies are supposed to be decadent. Substituting prunes for butter? Using half butter and half pureed white beans? If you're that afraid of butter, eat a fucking apple instead.

I'm not much of a baker. I don't make cakes or pies on a regular basis, although JP would divorce me if I didn't make pumpkin pies at Thanksgiving. My baking is mostly limited to cookies, brownies and sugar palmieres, which are nothing more than puff pastry sheets covered with sugar, folded, cut into small pieces and baked.

From that limited selection, brownies are my favorite. I'm not sure how that happened, because I've had some lousy brownies in the past. They're too dry, or too sweet, or not sweet enough, or flavorless, or just plain crappy. Like bad peanut butter cookies, they can taste like dust. I like brownies to be gooey the first day - gooey enough that several days after I've baked them they're still moist on the inside.

I didn't go on a relentless hunt for the perfect brownie recipe. I just used the first one I can across. I've made a few minor changes to it, but it's essentially the same recipe I started with. Mix everything in the pot you use to melt the butter and chocolate.

1 1/2 sticks butter
4 ounces unsweetened chocolate
1 cup flour
Just under 2 cups granulated sugar (cut about 1-2 tlbs. out)
Three eggs
1-2 tsps. brewed coffee
Dash of salt
Dash of cayenne pepper
Chocolate chips (optional)
Walnuts (optional)

Melt butter and chocolate together in a bowl over boiling water, or in a pot, with burner at lowest heat possible. If you're lucky enough to have a simmer burner, use that. Stir frequently.
Add sugar and mix thoroughly. Add coffee, salt and cayenne pepper. Add eggs one at a time, mixing each one thoroughly into the batter. Mix flour thoroughly into batter. If using, mix in chips, walnuts or anything else you like to throw into brownies.

Pour batter into buttered 9x13" baking dish. If you're a pansy ass, you can use non-stick cooking spray. Pour batter into baking dish, and bake in 350 degree oven for 30-35 minutes. When done, remove and let cool for three hours. Unless you're one of those people who can't wait. In that case, grab a spoon and dig in.

NOTES
What I changed: The recipe originally called for two full cups of sugar. I thought the brownies came out a bit too sweet, which is why I cut back on the sugar a little. You can use two full cups if you like.
I added the salt and the cayenne pepper. (The idea for the pepper came from my friend Jill Cotter, who puts cayenne in just about everything.)
The recipe originally called for 1 tsp. vanilla instead of the coffee. I love vanilla, but I think the coffee adds a great dimension to the flavor. You can also use 1/2 vanilla and 1/2 coffee.

You have to keep an eye on the butter and chocolate so the chocolate doesn't burn. You'll know from the smell if it does. I usually take the butter and chocolate off the heat before all the chocolate is completely melted. (The butter will be fully melted before the chocolate.) This will keep the mixture cool enough to prevent the eggs from cooking when you add them.

I found the recipe on the back of the Baker's Unsweetened Chocolate box. Do not mock back-of-the-box recipes.  This one produces the best brownies I've ever had.

I say God's food.
I wait all year for tomatoes to show up at the market. I've tried growing my own, but decided long ago that it's worth it to just buy them. I don't care how much they cost.

There are, of course, tons of things you can make with them. I'm just as likely to pour a little olive oil on them, sprinkle them with salt and pepper and chop up some basil. But sometimes, even in the dead of summer, you want something to really bite into. For us, that usually means pasta. Here's my favorite summer pasta sauce:

Pasta with Raw Tomato Sauce (adapted from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything):
2 cups cored and roughly chopped fresh tomatoes
2 tlbs. extra virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
2-4 cloves of garlic, smashed
1/4-1/2 cup of fresh basil leaves, roughly chopped
1/4 cup of toasted pine nuts. More or less any you want.
Approximately 2 tbls. lemon juice
Freshly grated parmesan cheese
1 lb. linguine or other long pasta

Put all ingredients except pine nuts and parmesan cheese in a large, flat bowl. Mash together with a fork or potato masher. Do not use food processor or blender.
You can make this sauce while the pasta is cooking, but it's better if it sits longer. When pasta is done, add pine nuts to sauce, and pour pasta over. Pass the cheese around the table.

NOTE: The basil leaves won't break up, so chop them to the desired consistency.
I added the pine nuts and lemon to this recipe. It's good without them, but I think they improve the recipe tenfold.

God knows I love Michael Ruhlman. He's a wonderful writer and he knows his stuff. But sometimes I just get aggravated with him. In this post, he takes on cookies - store bought vs homemade.
I would never say that a cookie manufactured by a huge corporation is better than a homemade cookie. But can he not give the Oreo a little respect?
His fans are even worse. Some of them come across as "Please love me Michael. I'm as cool as you are." Read the comments.
You can compare all the chocolate chip cookie recipes from famous-except-the-great unwashed-have-never-heard-of-them chefs.  But nothing will ever top the Tollhouse cookie recipe. It's on the back of the bag. You can't beat it.
Melt the butter. It's faster.

Bento box lunches! I'd never heard of bento boxes before I found this website. This is wonderful. Below the first entry you come to is a brief explanation about bento boxes. Check this out. Not only are the recipes great, but the photos are fabulous. What's really cool is much of the food that's featured is what she makes for her toddler-aged son. No  Lunchables for her child.
I think I love her.

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Check out this post and the accompanying comments about molecular gastromony on Michael Ruhlman's blog. Look, I'd never heard the term until about two months ago when it started being thrown around because Marcel from Top Chef was into it. Apparently he was big on foam. Which... whatever. All I knew what that I had no idea what it means. When I saw Ruhlman's post, I was thrilled. Maybe this would clear it up. Well, not so much. I was able to figure out that Ruhlman doesn't like the term, but I can't figure out what the linked letter in the post is saying. I continue to read the comments though. I've decided that "Molecular Gastronomy" is like 2001: A Space Odyssey. It's probably important, but everything about it is so boring I just don't care. I was reading the comments and kept waiting for Keir Dullea to die.
Ruhlman points out that making stock is molecular gastronomy. So is salting your food. OK, so cooking is chemistry. I think we've known that for a while. Alton Brown's been talking about it for years. And with him you get hand puppets.

It's not the practice itself that offends me, although I'm not a fan of clever food for its own sake. Nor do I want my food to be amusing. That's what my dinner companions are for. I also don't want irony or winking, from either my food or my dinner companions. It's too much damned work.
Like Ruhlman, I don't like the term because it's vague. It makes little sense to anyone who's not an insider. But I'm also skeptical of extreme techniques done in its name. A chestnut on the head of a pin? I don't want my food to scare my guests. If I did, I'd let them bring green bean casserole to my house. And what does one taste of cold potato-truffle soup in a cute little dish have to do with chemistry? How is that molecular gastronomy? It's pretty. And different. And I suppose it's innovative. Except it's not. It's just presentation.
Anyway, read the post and the comments. I'm interested in your ideas about the term and the practice. Maybe you can clear this up for me. And I think I'll just be roasting a chicken for dinner tomorrow.
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On a really exciting note, JP made spaghetti with marinara sauce for dinner last night. This was the first time he's  made it, and he wouldn't let me in the kitchen. I was resting on the couch and it was all I could do to stay there. He'd yell a question at me, I'd yell back the answer. Finally he asked "What else should I put it?" "What else do you think you should put in?" "I don't know." "How about a little chicken broth?" " Oh, that's a good idea. Anthing else?" he asked. "Beer." "Oooh, yeah."
I cringed a little when I heard him using the pepper grinder. Ach, too much!, I thought. He also used a little too much olive oil to saute the garlic and onions. But it was fine. It was more than fine. It was really good. The flavors were nicely blended and it had lots of spice. So there wasn't too much pepper in it.
That boy has a gift.