Archive for the 'grains' Category
I know, this hardly sounds like an ideal late-May dinner. October, maybe? But it has been raining for a week and the temperature has hardly crept past 10 degrees. We’ve had to turn the furnace back on, and as I write this I’m wrapped up in a flannel blanket like someone from a Neo Citran commercial.
I picked up a 2 pack of chickens at the grocery store yesterday, and, as always, it’s exactly as much work to roast two than it is to roast one. So why not set myself up for a weeks’ worth of leftovers? Leftover roast chicken is the most versatile kind; I’m already envisioning a nice big chicken Caesar salad tomorrow, maybe some quesadillas the next day, and when almost all the meat has been stripped off - soup. Or perhaps, since my Dad is out of town, I’ll bring the spare over to my mum to ensure she doesn’t subsist on Pizza Hut for the next 4 days.
Generally when I roast a chicken I don’t bother with any prep beyond rubbing it with a bit of oil and sprinkling it with salt and pepper, but since I now have a healthy crop of fresh thyme in my garden, I thought I’d put forth a little extra effort. So I crushed about 6 cloves of garlic into a few tablespoons of olive oil, and grated in the zest of a lemon, too. I went out in the rain and plucked out about half of my crop of thyme, careful not to completely obliterate my supply. I came inside, washed it and lost it.
Seriously. I completely lost my thyme somewhere in my kitchen, and never found it again. I wonder where my brain told me to put it. So… chicken with lemon and garlic it is. It would have been fab in the mushroom risotto, too. Not to mention the beets and carrots…
Roast Chicken with Lemon and Garlic
The only difference between roasting and frying chickens is size; fryers are a little smaller.
1 or 2 chickens, roasters or fryers
a couple tablespoons olive or canola oil
4-6 garlic cloves, crushed
1 lemon
a few sprigs of fresh thyme, chopped, or 1 tsp. dried (optional)
salt and pepper
Preheat oven to 450°F. In a small bowl, mix the oil, garlic, grated zest of the lemon and the thyme. Pat the chicken dry, put it (or them) into any sort of dish or roasting pan, and rub all over with the oil mixture. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cut the lemon in half and put inside the chicken, or put half inside each.
Roast for 20 minutes, then reduce the temperature to 375°F and cook for about another hour, or until the juices run clear and the joints wiggle in their sockets.
The risotto, of course, is because I haven’t been able to shake the memory of Mike’s barley risotto from River Café. (I wish I had the nerve to email Scott and ask for the recipe, but I don’t, even though he’s one of the nicest chefs I know.) It was simple to make, actually, exactly the same as making regular risotto with rice, but a little slower as the barley doesn’t absorb the liquid quite as quickly. This risotto would be great with a bit of blue cheese crumbled in at the end, so that it barely melts.
Mushroom Barley Risotto
Use any kind of mushrooms you like in this risotto. I found some dried ones and soaked them; if you do this, you can use the soaking liquid along with the stock, but make sure you strain it to get rid of any grit.
canola or olive oil, for cooking
2 Tbsp. butter (optional - you could use only oil)
1 onion, finely chopped
1 cup pearl or pot barley
5 cups stock (I used a 1L tetra pack of stock plus about a cup of water that the dried mushrooms had soaked in)
2 cups (or as many or as little as you like) chopped mushrooms - button, brown, Portobello, or 1 cup dried mushrooms, rehydrated in boiling water
1 garlic clove, crushed
In a medium pot, heat a drizzle of oil with a tablespoon of butter over medium heat and sauté the onion for a few minutes, until it’s soft and translucent. Add the barley and cook for another minute, then pour in about a cup of stock or other liquid.
Cook, stirring often, until most of the liquid has been absorbed. Add another cup and cook in the same way, adding stock and stirring until all the stock is absorbed. It should take almost an hour.
Meanwhile, heat another drizzle of oil and the remaining tablespoon of butter in a large skillet and sauté the mushrooms until they release their moisture and start to turn golden. Stir into the risotto and season with salt and pepper.
Serves 4-6.
But. Truly? My favorite part of this meal by far was the roasted beets and carrots, cooked again in a balsamic-honey glaze that virtually candied them. I ate almost the whole batch, then mopped up the rest of the sauce from the pan with a chunk of bread, fantasizing about how next time I’ll double the sauce ingredients and pour the whole mess over a bed of salad greens, maybe with some crumbled goat cheese and toasted pecans. After the gym.
Beets take longer to roast than carrots; I wrapped them in foil and stuck them in alongside the chicken for the first hour, then pulled them out and cooled them outside and slid a pan of chunked carrots tossed in oil into the oven beside the chicken. When they were starting to turn golden and the beets were cool enough to handle, I peeled them and sliced them into a skillet with 3 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar, 2 tablespoons of honey and 1 tablespoon of oil - in retrospect there was enough oil in the pan with the carrots. The carrots went in too and I turned up the heat until the mixture bubbled and thickened, covering the veg with a sticky glaze. It was fantastic.
Honey-Balsamic Glazed Roasted Beets & Carrots
You don’t need measurements here - but I’ve listed the proportions that I used; you can adjust each accordingly. The veg could be roasted in advance, then reheated in the balsamic and honey on the stovetop just before serving.
3 largish beets, tops trimmed
4 largish carrots, peeled and cut into 1″ chunks
olive or canola oil, for cooking
3 Tbsp. balsamic vinegar
2 Tbsp. honey or maple syrup
Wrap the beets in foil and roast them in the oven (at 350F - 400F, or whatever temperature the oven happens to be on) for 45 minutes to an hour, until tender. Set them aside until cool enough to handle.
Peel and chop the carrots and toss with a drizzle of oil in a baking pan. Roast for about half an hour, turning once or twice, until soft and starting to turn golden. Place the balsamic vinegar and honey in a large skillet, then add the carrots to the skillet along with any oil that has accumulated in the bottom of the pan, and when the beets are cool enough to handle, peel them with your fingers and slice into wedges into the pan.
Set it over medium-high heat and cook until the mixture bubbles and the liquid thickens, coating the carrots with a sticky glaze. Serve immediately, or cool and serve over a salad.
Serves 4 (or 2 if I’m there).
Print Post
Share on Facebook
May 24 2008 | chicken & turkey and grains and veg | 2 Comments »
I know, steak twice in under a week? This time I blame our Vancouver friends, who spied the BBQ and wanted a taste of Alberta beef. All we did was rub them with canola oil, salt and pepper and grill them medium-rare. I took some pork ribs out of the freezer too (best to pawn them off on company, rather than down a rack between the two of us), which, as always, I preroasted on a rimmed cookie sheet, covered with foil, at 300F for a couple hours before throwing on the grill. (You can do this a day or two ahead and keep them in the fridge; the long slow cooking time breaks down tough connective tissues, which is what makes the meat fall-off-the-bone tender.) I crushed a few cloves of garlic and grated some ginger into the last third of the jar of hoisin sauce, and then stirred in a couple spoonfuls of honey. This got brushed onto the ribs before they went on the grill, but promptly caught fire on account of the high sugar content. (This is typical of most barbecue sauces, which usually have sugar as the first ingredient.)
We tried to offset the quantity of meat with an even greater number of salads; the usual brown and wild rice one, a tossed green salad with croutons made of bread that I brushed with garlicky olive oil and grilled, then tore into pieces, and another Ichiban salad since I had leftover dressing. And quinoa with mango and curried yogurt - something I made for a segment on CBC radio this morning, which I was decidedly less thrilled with than the 63 people who voted 97% in favour of it on epicurious.com.
Quinoa with Mango and Curried Yogurt
Dressing:
1/3 cup plain yogurt
1 Tbsp. fresh lime juice
2 tsp. curry powder
1 tsp. finely grated fresh ginger
salt and pepper
2 Tbsp. canola oil
Salad:
1 1/2 cups quinoa
1 ripe mango, peeled, pitted, and diced
1 roasted red pepper, chopped
1 fresh jalapeño pepper, seeded (the seeds and membranes contain the most heat) and minced (optional)
a handful of fresh cilantro, chopped
1/2 cup salted roasted peanuts or cashews, chopped
In a small bowl, whisk together the yogurt, lime juice, curry powder, ginger, salt and pepper. Add oil in a slow stream, whisking until combined.
Rinse quinoa well in a few changes of water, rubbing grains and letting them settle before pouring off water. Cook in a large pot of boiling water for 15 minutes, rinse under cold water to stop it from cooking, and drain well in a sieve.
In a large bowl, toss the quinoa with the mango, red pepper, jalapeño and cilantro. Drizzle with dressing and toss to combine; top with chopped peanuts or cashews.
Serves 6.
And here’s something cool: if you moisten a paper towel, sprinkle it with quinoa and top it with another damp towel, it will sprout. (If you live in Calgary, you may have to re-moisten the paper towel once in awhile.) Germination activates natural enzymes and boosts vitamin content, and the wee sprouts are perfect to add to salads.
Share on Facebook
May 14 2008 | grains and salads | 2 Comments »
I know, some days I sound like the biggest food snob.
I’m cooking for 160 tomorrow night at Willow Park, and since the menu includes arancini, I needed to make a vat of risotto in advance.
I swear, risotto is one of those things that sounds ultra-fancy, you may pay a fortune for in a restaurant, but it’s just rice. I promise it’s easier than steamed rice; it’s as easy as making oatmeal. It’s nursery food.
If you love risotto, just try it once. Once you’ve figured it out, there are all sorts of possibilities with risotto. I just stuck with the basic lemon-parmesan version I made last time, but after I scooped some of it out it occurred to me I could tear some fresh spinach straight into it, and it would just wilt into its warmth. It was great.
Since I was busy prepping other things, I pulled a chicken from the freezer, stuck it in a bowl of warm water to thaw, and then roasted it, knowing it would be super with the risotto and the leftovers will feed the boys tomorrow in my absence. Another zero-effort dish, unless you count rubbing it with oil and sprinkling it with salt and pepper. The spent lemons I used in the risotto filled up the cavity nicely, too. (Hint: roasting chickens is a great way to keep cast iron skillets well-seasoned!)
So really, the idea behind risotto is that you stir it lots (in contrast with not disturbing it as it cooks) in order for the rice to release its starch into the dish, making it thick and creamy and oatmeal-like. Which is what makes it particularly difficult to screw up; you just keep on adding liquid, cook until it absorbs it all, and add more and keep on stirring until the rice is tender. If there’s too much liquid, it will eventually absorb it; if there’s not enough, add more. You warm the stock first so that it doesn’t cool the risotto and slow the cooking down every time you add some.
Lemon Parmesan Risotto
a drizzle of olive or canola oil and a small knob of butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 cups Arborio rice
6(ish) cups chicken or vegetable stock, warmed up
1/2-1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
zest and juice of 1 lemon
another small knob of butter, if you like
In a medium-large pot, heat the oil and butter over medium-high heat and saute the onion until it’s soft and translucent. Add the rice and cook for a minute, just to coat the grains with oil.
If you like, add a splash of white wine and cook until it’s absorbed or evaporates. Add about half a cup of stock and cook, stirring, until it’s absorbed. Continue adding stock a half cup to a cup at a time and cook, stirring (it doesn’t have to be constantly, just frequently) until it absorbs the liquid. When it’s all used up it should be about half an hour, and the grains should be soft. If they still have a crunchy core and the liquid is used up and absorbed, just add a little more water.
When the rice is cooked and it’s nice and creamy, stir in the cheese, lemon zest and juice, and butter. Stir until the cheese melts. (If you like, stir in a handful of chopped fresh spinach, parsley or basil too, and it will wilt into the risotto.)
Serves about 6.
Print Post
Share on Facebook
April 17 2008 | chicken & turkey and grains | 3 Comments »
It wasn’t intentional, the vanilla part.
My family is in a state of stress and upheaval this week; one sister sick and mothering 2 toddlers while her husband writes his medical exams today, my other sister always busy as a single mum of 3 and full time teacher with extra heaped on her plate right now, and my parents have decided to move, which requires a mass exodus of the contents of their house as well as assorted repairs in preparation to list it.
I decided that everyones’ lives could be made easier by the arrival of dinner on their doorstep, and I needed to spend some time with W. I pulled some ground bison out of the freezer and we made a big pot of chili.
As you have likely witnessed, Willem loves to cook. He pulls up his stool and helps me chop, and leans in to stir the pot. This time, while I was at the sink ridding my hands of their garlic smell (rub your fingers over the bowl of a stainless steel spoon while running it under cool water), W pulled a 1L jug of vanilla (yes, I sometimes use the artificial stuff; I do a lot of experimenting and need to ration my Madagascar vanilla bean paste and the fancy bottles my friends bring back from Mexico. Also, sometimes it just doesn’t matter that much) out of the cupboard and upended the whole thing into the pot. A full jug of vanilla.
Fortunately, we were still at the browning the onions and bison stage, so I dumped the lot into a colander, rinsed it, and put it back on the stove to finish cooking. My damage control seems to have worked, save for a lingering hint of vanilla on the finish.
Chili is easy; I never measure the stuff that goes in. First, brown a pound or so of ground bison (far leaner than beef, with more protein and half the fat) and a chopped onion in a drizzle of canola oil until the bison is no longer pink and the onion is soft. Throw in a few crushed cloves of garlic for a minute.
Dump in a large can of diced, stewed or plum tomatoes, a drained can of kidney beans, a can of brown beans in tomato sauce, a tin of tomato paste, a few glugs of salsa, a couple heaping spoonfuls of chili powder and one of cumin. Salt and pepper, maybe a small spoonful of cocoa or pinch of instant coffee, to add color and depth. I think that was it. Simmer for a couple hours; it’s always better the next day.
The quinoa cookies were a test for an article on camping food I’ve been working on for Alberta Food for Thought magazine, and they turned out quite wonderfully, actually. I have a few gluten-free friends who might be thrilled with them. Quinoa flour (available in bulk at Community Natural Foods) is grittier than wheat, rice or oat flours, but bakes up into a nicely crunchy cookie that is higher in protein than other grainy cookies. Expect them, obviously, to taste like quinoa.
Chocolate Chunk Quinoa Cookies
1/3 cup butter, softened
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 large egg
2 tsp. vanilla
1 1/2 cups quinoa flour
1 cup oats
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2-1 cup chocolate chunks or chips
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)
1/4 cup dried cranberries or chopped dried apricots
Preheat oven to 325°F.
In a large bowl, beat the butter, brown sugar, egg and vanilla and until smooth. In a medium bowl, stir together the quinoa flour, oats, baking soda and salt. Add the flour mixture to the sugar mixture and stir by hand until almost combined; add the chocolate, nuts and dried fruit and stir just until blended.
Roll the mixture into balls a bit larger than a walnut, and place on a cookie sheet that has been sprayed with nonstick spray. Flatten each a little with your hand. Bake for 14-16 minutes, until barely golden around the edges, and set. Let cool for a few minutes on the cookie sheet before carefully transferring to a wire rack to cool – they tend to be crumbly while still warm, but firm up as they cool.
Makes about 1 1/2 dozen cookies.
Per cookie: 190 calories, 6.5 g fat (3.4 g saturated fat, 1.7 g monounsaturated fat, 0.5 g polyunsaturated fat), 29.8 g carbohydrates, 21.6 mg cholesterol, 3.3 g protein, 2.4 g fiber. 31% calories from fat
Share on Facebook
April 08 2008 | bison and cookies & squares and grains | 3 Comments »
Remember the squash & ricotta ravioli we made out of wonton wrappers and stashed in the freezer? They were called into service tonight. The best thing about them is that you can dump them straight from the freezer bag into boiling water and they’re done faster than dry spaghetti would be.
Emily is still off school this week and so was over again today, and (as per our new routine) wanted to cook something. Having been up since 3:30 (this is why traffic reporters don’t have toddlers) I was too tired to think and so lay like a sandbag on the couch while she looked through my cookbooks. She rightly identified my dog-eared copy of Classic Home Desserts by Richard Sax as a good source for desserty/baking things that 9 year olds tend to like to make, and flipped through, pondering out loud the fruit cobblers and coffee pots de creme. When I realized we were almost out of flour and completely out of all but the brown sugar, E settled on Brown Sugar Shortbread. Lucky me; they were easier than a snap to make.
Brown Sugar Shortbread from Richard Sax
Chop 1/2 cup butter into bits and put it in the food processor with 1/4 cup packed golden brown sugar, a pinch of salt and 1 tsp. vanilla; pulse until creamy.
Add 3/4 cup flour and 2 Tbsp. cornstarch; pulse 6-8 times, until it starts to clump together.
Smear the dough into a 9″ round cake pan; this part was interesting, as the butter-flour ratio was higher than usual (I would have used 1 cup flour, perhaps slightly more), giving it the texture of thick icing. It even looked like icing as we spread it, unable to pat, along the bottom of the pan. I had my doubts. We were supposed to sprinkle it with sugar, but forgot.
Bake at 350F for 20 minutes, until pale golden around the edges. Cut them into wedges while the dough is still warm, and then let them cool somewhat in the pan before taking them out, so that they don’t crumble to bits.
I’ve never seen such a flaky texture in melt-in-your-mouth shortbread; you can see the way it delicately flaked off in the middle as I sliced them. I liked them much better than even the whipped variety, and they took all of 5 minutes of actual effort.
And right, the rice pudding.
Rice pudding is even easier than shortbread. Whenever I make rice, I make extra so I can make fried rice and/or have an excuse to make rice pudding. This time, I had leftover rice even after making chicken fried rice yesterday. It doesn’t need to be short grain, or even white rice; puddings can be made from brown or even wild rice, which goes well with maple syrup and dried cranberries.
There are creamy stovetop rice puddings and baked rice puddings made sturdier with eggs, and then there’s the rice and milk with sugar that Winnie-the-Pooh makes in the small paperback cookbook my Grandma bought for my 7th birthday. The simplest rice pudding is made by pouring milk over the extra rice in the pot (or the rice that turned out too sticky to eat) along with some sugar, honey or maple syrup to taste, and cooking on medium-low heat until the rice absorbs all the milk. Add enough to cover the rice, and then some. Taste it, then add more milk if you like, cooking each time until it soaks it all up. It’s almost impossible to add too much. Stir in a dribble of vanilla and a handful of raisins. As Pooh will attest, rice pudding is perfect eaten cold for breakfast or elevenses.
Share on Facebook
April 03 2008 | cookies & squares and dessert and grains and snacks and sweet stuff | 4 Comments »
I know, it’s quite a drastic change from last night, isn’t it?
I’ve never eaten at the Highwood - the SAIT culinary program restaurant, where for $38.50 you get to choose an appetizer, soup, salad, entree and dessert, and the very capable student chefs get to practice on you. My friend D made reservations for ten and we all congregated there at 6, taking time over Singapore Slings, Chi Chis (yes, pure white ones with slices of orange wrapped around a maraschino cherry and skewered with a teeny plastic sword, served in those open fishbowl glasses you see in 70s movies with shag carpets) and gin & tonics before we got to dinner, which took until 9:30 to work our way through. Now it’s quarter to 11, and considering I have to be up at 4:30 am I should really put this post off until tomorrow and get some sleep, but that would sort of defeat the purpose of this whole project, wouldn’t it?
I had duck as an appetizer (I’m sorry, I’m too drowsy to recall the finite details, besides the truffled potato salad towerette):
And pork tenderloin, fancilly wrapped in some other cured part of a pig (everything was dressed up with pea shoots):
But of course I was unable to let myself off the hook when it comes to dinner duty - anytime I go out to a restaurant to eat, guilt forces me to at least feed the boys before I ditch them. Last night I put a pot of rice on to cook (knowing full well that the aforementioned guilt would set in today sometime during the late afternoon) and turned it into chicken fried rice: fried rice is best made with cold rice, and in fact near impossible to make out of fresh rice. After spending the night in the fridge, the grains are firm and separate, and far easier to fry up without becoming pasty and clumping together. This is one of the fastest and most inexpensive ways to turn scraps of leftovers into something that resembles a real meal. And all in one pan, even. This is far faster (and healthier) than Hamburger Helper:
Chicken Fried Rice for the Boys (or beef, pork, shrimp, vegetable or tofu)
1) heat a skillet with a drizzle of canola and sesame oils, or either one. I use both because the sesame oil is so strong in flavor, and the canola is neutral and withstands high heat well
2) dump in as much rice as you want to cook. Stir it around until it starts to color a little, then dump in some cooked chopped roasted chicken, beef or pork; if you are doing shrimp, save them for the end so that they don’t overcook and turn tough
3) throw in a handful of frozen peas and/or a chopped green onion or two
4) cook it all for a few minutes, then push it all aside and break an egg or two into the space in the pan; scramble with whatever cooking utensil you’re using. Don’t worry about it mixing in with the rice.
5) if you’re adding shrimp, do it now, cooking them just until they turn pink. Add soy sauce to taste. When I went to do this step I discovered that I was out of soy sauce, and so tried to make up for the lack of flavor (how appealing is plain old rice, chicken and peas, unless you’re 2?) with a big pinch of curry powder (curry paste would have worked well too), which was delicious. (Of course I tasted it - quality control is very important.)
6) eat.
Share on Facebook
April 02 2008 | chicken & turkey and eating out and grains and one dish | 1 Comment »
Since Friday night, I have cooked pretty much nonstop: Hazelnut & Apricot Scones; Chocolate, Hazelnut and Espresso Shortbread; so many variations of miniature quiche I lost count (hundreds of them); Roasted Carrot Hummus; Sun-Dried Tomato and Olive Spread; Crostini; Pork Tenderloin with Orange and Pomegranate Molasses; Potstickers; Chicken Satay; Stuffed Rolled Turkey Filet; Roast Turkey, made into sandwiches with Maple-Orange Sweet Potatoes; Roasted Beet, Purple Potato and Carrot Skewers; Espresso Chocolate Chunk Brownies; and Coconut Milk & Ice Wine Chocolate Truffles, not to mention the menu from last night.
Today, being Sunday, the sound of racing on TV triggered a Pavlovian response in me - an urge to putter around the kitchen and bake scones or something. But I resisted; instead we went to the Bowlerama.
I swore last night I wouldn’t cook dinner tonight, and I didn’t. We ordered pizza. I’d like to say I’m sick of food; sadly, I don’t ever seem to tire of it, unless I’m pregnant. (I’m not.)
But here’s something: I went for coffee at Cafe Rosso last week with a few friends, one of whom picked up a vegan bar made with quinoa. I was shocked to learn that my friend A*, who is vegetarian, had never heard of the stuff. (Although come to think of it, it is entirely possible she may just not have recognized the proper pronounciation - KEEN-wah - and just thought it was something new to her. The teeny uncooked specks in the bar were hardly recognizable.) Nevertheless I dropped off a bag on her mailbox today, and was going to email her cooking instructions, but decided to do it here instead. Not only because I think everyone who is getting more than a little tired of rice should know how to make quinoa, but just because I know she reads this blog.
Here are my top 11 reasons you should try quinoa:
1 ) it contains a balanced set of essential amino acids, making it an excellent source (about 20%) of complete protein. (In fact, the WHO claims that quinoa contains a better protein balance than any grain, being at least equal to milk in terms of protein quality)
2 ) it’s a good source of dietary fiber
3 ) it’s gluten free, and considered easily digestible
4 ) it makes you feel nutritionally in the know when you pronounce it properly in conversation
5 ) it’s high in B vitamins, potassium, calcium, magnesium, phosphorus, folic acid, vitamin E, iron and zinc
6 ) rice is so last millenium
7 ) its mild, nutty flavor lends itself well to soups, hot grain breakfast cereals, or really anything you’d use rice or couscous for. I bet it would make great rice pudding (except that you’d have to call it quinoa pudding)
8 ) it may be germinated in its raw form - germination activates natural enzymes and boosts vitamin content. Quinoa apparently has a short germination period: only 2-4 hours resting in between paper towel soaked in water is enough to make it sprout; this softens the grains, making them suitable to be added to salads etc.
9 ) it has a light, fluffy texture; isn’t hard or heavy like many other whole grains
10 ) it’s cheap, and you can buy it in bulk
11 ) like rice, you can freeze it in freezer bags once it has cooked and cooled, then thaw it for quick salads or side dishes, to throw into soup, etc.
The biggest thing to remember when cooking quinoa is to rinse it very well first - it usually has an invisible coating that tends to be bitter. Otherwise, you can just cook it like pasta, in a pot of boiling salted water for 15 minutes, or like rice: 2 parts water to 1 part quinoa, boil, turn down to low, cover and cook for 15 minutes. Easy.
* Names have been withheld to protect the reputation of innocent vegetarians.
Share on Facebook
March 16 2008 | grains | 5 Comments »
Despite my abhorrence for any connection between guilt and food, I couldn’t help but look at dinner tonight as penance for last night’s rib free-for-all. Mike looked glumly at it and asked, “what’s this to go with?” Nothing, that’s it. But it was delicious, really, and even Willem gobbled it down once I added a bit of shredded roasted chicken from the freezer to somewhat disguise the chick peas. I actually think I enjoyed it as much as the ribs. Mike thought that was pushing it a bit, but agreed to feeling much better afterward.
It started out as something I saw in a recent issue of Cooking Light magazine (one of my favorites, and they don’t even pay me to say that) and quickly took on a life of its own. Now it doesn’t much resemble the original, except that they both have the aforementioned grains and chick peas.
I have to say, it’s a pet peeve of mine when recipes call for 3/4 cup of chick peas instead of a can, or 1 cup of chopped onion instead of 1 chopped onion; those who follow recipes to the letter might wonder what to do if their chopped onion amounts to 1 1/4 cups, or if it comes up short might shave a chunk off a second onion to make up the difference. Some of these quantities just don’t need to be as precise.
I really do love cooking with barley. The very best thing about barley, brown rice, wild rice and lentils is that they all take the exact same amount of time to cook. So that means you can throw any combination in a pot of boiling water, and they will be done in 40-45 minutes. Drain, and you have a great side dish, addition to soup or base for a grainy salad. The original recipe called for almonds and green onions; I had toasted chopped pecans left over from a late-night attempt at a sundae, and no green onions. There were grape tomatoes though, so those went in. I added curry paste to the dressing as well, and boosted the quantity.
Brown & Wild Rice and Barley Salad with Chick Peas
1/3 cup brown rice
1/3 cup wild rice
1/3 cup barley (pearl or pot)
1 19 oz. (540 mL) can chick peas, rinsed and drained
1/3 cup golden raisins
1/2 pint grape tomatoes, halved
a few green onions, chopped (optional)
1 bunch curly or Italian parsley, chopped (optional)
small handful chopped toasted pecans or almonds
Dressing:
3 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
2 Tbsp. canola oil
1 Tbsp. flax oil (or more canola, or olive oil)
2 tsp. mustard
1 tsp. curry paste or powder
In a large pot of boiling water, cook the brown rice, wild rice and barley for 40-45 minutes, until tender. Drain well and run under cool water to stop the grains from cooking. Transfer to a bowl and add the chick peas and raisins.
Whisk together all the dressing ingredients (adjusting them if you like to suit your taste) and pour over top. Chill in the fridge until the mixture is completely cool, or for up to a day.
Add the tomatoes, green onions, parsley and pecans (or save them to sprinkle on top) and serve. Serves 4-8, depending on whether you’re eating it as a main course or side dish. (It would go really well beside a filet of salmon.)
Later in the evening, the ice cream I ran to the corner store to buy last night wouldn’t stop calling to me, so I had to eat it just to shut it up. I hardly ever buy ice cream because it speaks my language, but I did yesterday because I had leftover honey-chocolate ganache (I made another batch of cupcakes for CBC) that I didn’t want to go to waste. Besides, my brain rationalized, I already ate half a rack of ribs and a buttered baked potato; I might as well go for the hot fudge chaser.
For last night’s honey-chocolate ganache and toasted pecan sundae I warmed the ganache, adding a bit of half and half to thin it just enough to make a fudgy, truffley sauce. Tonight there was still a bit left, and I had the bright idea to resurrect it with a spoonful of peanut butter. I set the small saucepan over the heat, stirred in a spoonful (all-natural would have been healthier, but wouldn’t have had as smooth a mouthfeel, so I went with the creamy light stuff) and drizzled it warm over vanilla bean Breyer’s light.
(So much for penance.)
Print Post
Share on Facebook
March 12 2008 | beans and grains and one dish and salads and vegetarian | 2 Comments »
Today was the grains show, and the slow cooker show. Another long day.
A couple weeks ago, in a panic over the thought of being away from home for dinnertimes on end, I made a few batches of freezable things to stash away for Mike and W. Not that I didn’t think they could survive happily on eggs and toast.
One of those things (as part of an article I was working on for What’s Up Kids magazine in Toronto) was turkey chili with barley. Barley has more fiber than whole wheat bread, brown rice, or oats. It’s great stuff. And Canada is the second largest producer of it. In Alberta, we produce half the Canadian crop.
The trade-off tonight at 9:30 was so fast that I didn’t get a chance to ask Mike what they ate tonight, but the empty container evidence in the sink suggests it was a turkey chili night. This photo was one I did for the magazine - the piece was on edible bowls. (For kids who like to play with their food, and parents who hate doing dishes.)
Turkey Chili with Barley
Canola or olive oil, for cooking
1 large onion, peeled and chopped
2 lb. lean ground turkey
¼ cup chili powder
1 tsp. dried oregano
1 tsp. dried cumin
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper (white pepper, if you have it)
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1 can chicken stock, undiluted
1 28 oz. (798 mL) can diced tomatoes, undrained
1 cup jarred salsa, hot or mild (optional)
2 19 oz. (598 mL) cans white kidney or navy beans, drained
1/2 cup pot or pearl barley
Low fat sour cream and fresh cilantro, for garnish (optional)
Heat a drizzle of oil in a large, heavy pot set over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté for a few minutes, until softened. Add the turkey and cook until no longer pink. Add the chili powder, oregano, cumin, salt, pepper and cinnamon. Cook for another minute.
Add the chicken stock, tomatoes, salsa, beans and barley and bring to a simmer. Reduce heat and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 45 minutes. By then the barley should be cooked through.
If you want to serve it right away, let it simmer for another 15-20 minutes, then taste and adjust the seasonings. Otherwise, let it cool and then refrigerate overnight; reheat on the stovetop over medium heat after a day or two. Add some extra stock or tomatoes if the barley has absorbed too much liquid and it has become too thick.
Serves 8.
Share on Facebook
February 29 2008 | beans and chicken & turkey and grains | No Comments »
I hope no one was expecting a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner of, say, beef Wellington and strawberries dipped into chocolate fondue, which would of course end up seductively licked off our fingers. A friend emailed me today, concerned with these public dinnertime duties and consequent pressure to cook an amazing romantic meal, and suggested I cook nachos, paired with a fine Kokanee and a Safeway apple pie. But the best part was her suggested narrative (obviously she watches Nigella):
My heaving bosom was barely concealed by the lace doily covering them. The heat of the oven door caused a fragrant drop of perspiration to roll playfully down my neck. I was immediately taken by the spicy hardness of the roasting chips. The succulent velvety texture of the avocado wrapped itself tightly against the awaiting firm black olives……
Seriously, I’m thinking this website should have guest authors.
So since the teacher’s convention is on and my sister is a teacher, my 9 year old niece, Emily, and 5 year old nephew, Ben, are here for two days, including a sleepover. Plus Mike has band practice tonight, so I’m cleared of any V-Day pressure that might have otherwise been. Beyond that, the extra bodies pose a slight obstacle at dinnertime because, among all the other mealtime prejudices (only orange cheese, no weird bread) Emily is lactose intolerant. When I asked them what they wanted for dinner, both (and this doesn’t often happen) answered the same: pancakes!
No, you can’t have pancakes for dinner.
Yes we can! We want pancakes!! Please can we have pancakes?
Well, it would be easy. And there’s the matter of maintaining my Cool Aunt status. But when I stopped to think on it, I realized that pancakes made the proper way, notwith a box of soapy-tasting ultra-refined mix, aren’t really a bad thing. Grains (I use mostly whole wheat flour, ground oats, some flax seed, and they have no idea), eggs, soy milk or yogurt, a drizzle of canola and flax oils, batter scattered with sliced banana and/or berries, actually does deliver complex carbs, healthy fats and protein. Phew. So they’re happy and I’m not guilty of baking animal-shaped chicken nuggets or ordering pizza. And with the miracle of modern freezers, breakfast is taken care of too.
Good pancakes don’t require a recipe, if you can remember that to make them you need two of everything: 2 cups flours and grains (this can be all one kind; I use a combo of whole wheat flour, sometimes some oat flour, sometimes some quick oats or oats that have been whizzed in the food processor, sometimes some oat bran, always a sprinkle of ground flax seed), 2 Tbsp. sugar, 2 tsp. baking powder, 2 cups milk (or soy milk or thinned yogurt), 2 eggs and 2 Tbsp. (although you could use more) oil - canola and flax are my pancake oils of choice. Mix the dry ingredients (adding a pinch of salt if you think of it) and the wet ingredients separately, then whisk them together.
The secret to good pancakes is keeping the heat fairly low, and if you want to simulate that first pancake that never turns out quite right and gets thrown away, drizzle the pan with oil and then wipe it out with a paper towel. Cook until bubbles are starting to break on top, not until they have all already broken through the surface. You don’t want to exhaust all leavening potential. Scatter berries or sliced bananas on the surface before you flip it; the fruit is more evenly distributed that way, and won’t risk turning your pancakes green with berry juice. Another way to get them in is to simmer a handful of fresh or frozen berries in some maple syrup until they burst, turning the syrup a brilliant heliotrope (love that word).
Mike and I had yesterday’s leftover couscous, and yes, a few pancake pickings.
(P.S. If I was so inclined to make a special dinner for Mike, I might have chosen braised lamb shanks with mashed potatoes and Pavlova with cream and partially smushed fresh berries for dessert.)
Print Post
Share on Facebook
February 14 2008 | freezable and grains and vegetarian | 1 Comment »
Next »
