Archive for the 'pasta' Category
Sorry. I know, spaghetti ranks right up there with Cheerios when it comes to interesting dinners. It’s what Mike suggests when we’re tired and can’t think of anything else to eat: as in, “why don’t we just have spaghetti?” But it’s so boring! I always whine. I’m not sure why - I do like the stuff. And clearly it’s not something we eat five nights a week.
I’m working afternoons today until Friday, filling in for Jenny Howe doing the afternoon traffic on the Homestretch on CBC Radio One. Today we had a baby moose on Springbank Road, a fleet of chicks trying to cross Deerfoot, a deer, a fire, and I don’t know how many collisions. It was insane to keep on top of. So Mike made dinner. Spaghetti with the plainest of sauces; sauteed onion, red pepper, and about half a pound of ground bison, which I know I’ve mentioned before has less than half the fat of ground beef, and is leaner even than skinless chicken, turkey or even halibut. The problem with bison is that it typically gets treated like beef, thus overcooked and dried out, and then people think they don’t like it. It’s not at all gamey; if you’re hesitant to give it a try, ground bison in spaghetti sauce or chili is a safe first step. Half the cooked up onion-pepper-bison combo went into a jar of President’s Choice Extra Garlic tomato sauce (our current favorite, and superb as a pizza sauce) for the spaghetti, and the rest got turned into chili with the rest of the can of black beans from yesterday. (Chili is always better after a day or two in the fridge, so tomorrow night is already taken care of.)
Apparently the pasta got overcooked when he had a bit of a crisis, realizing the movie (the new Bob Dylan one with Cate Blanchett - very excellent if not a little cryptic, except that I fell asleep halfway through) was due back like right now and the pasta was on the stove, and he had to gather up the dog and kid and make a run for it. But when I got home hungry and all trafficked out there was a pot of spaghetti on the stove, it was absolutely delicious.
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June 19 2008 | bison and pasta | 1 Comment »
I had promised Mike spaghetti carbonara for fathers’ day, and since the seed had been planted I knew he wouldn’t be able to shake the craving until he had some.
Spaghetti carbonara is what Mike orders whenever we go out for pasta; not the healthiest choice, which is why he doesn’t eat it very often, and why I rarely make it. The only reason I’m somewhat skilled at the art of spaghetti carbonara is because it’s what they had me make at my audition for It’s Just Food, as well as at several subsequent auditions at which they paired me with various co-hosts to test our chemistry (no pressure). So I have made many a pot.
Now, most people, including Mike, are under the impression that spaghetti carbonara is loaded with butter and cream; not so. That’s fettuccine Alfredo you’re thinking of. S.C. is made with bacon, eggs and grated Parmesan cheese, and is truly one of the fastest pastas you can make; one that takes only as much time as boiling the spaghetti. Which made it a good choice tonight, when the 6 o’clock news came on and I still had no idea what was for dinner.
The idea is that the egg cook and the cheese melt with the heat of the pasta if you toss them together as soon as you drain it; it’s a good idea to set aside some of the starchy pasta water before you do, so that you can add some back if you want a saucier S.C. (Some like theirs dry, I like mine a little saucy.) Some recipes call for just the egg yolks; I add the entire egg (why not?) and tonight, as I stood impatiently poking at the spaghetti, trying to get it to boil faster, I spontaneously sliced the leftover half of a purple onion and sauteed it in the leftover bacon drippings, scraping up all the crispy bits from the bottom of the pan. It turned out to be a very good idea. I’ve done this with mushrooms in the past with huge success; I’m not sure why I never thought of onions. There are not many better combinations out there than eggs, bacon, onions and cheese.
Not very summery, but quick and tasty, and doable when it looks like there’s nothing to make for dinner.
Spaghetti Carbonara
1 lb. (ish) spaghetti
4-8 slices bacon, chopped
canola oil (optional)
a chunk of onion or handful of mushrooms, sliced (optional)
3 large eggs
1/2-1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
freshly ground black pepper - lots
In a large pot, boil the spaghetti in lots of water until done to your liking. Before you drain it, set aside about a cup of the cooking liquid.
Meanwhile, cook the bacon until crisp; set aside. If you like, discard the drippings and add some canola oil to the pan instead to saute your onion or mushrooms, if you’re adding them. In a small bowl, stir the eggs together with a fork.
As soon as the pasta is done, drain it and return it to the warm pot. Pour the eggs overtop, and add the cheese, bacon, drippings if you like, and sauteed veg if you made some. Toss with tongs, adding a little reserved pasta water if you like, until the eggs are cooked (they will be after a minute as long as the pasta is still steaming) and the sauce is as saucy as you like it. Season with pepper (the cheese is probably salty enough).
Serve immediately. Serves 4.
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June 16 2008 | pasta | 6 Comments »
Otsu is a cold soba (buckwheat) noodle salad named, I believe, for a city in Japan. I had seen a couple references to it, and so when I saw fresh buckwheat noodles at the Asian market, I picked up a package, thinking it would make a nice summery dinner. Unfortunately we haven’t seen any sign of summer since then.
Once in awhile, maybe a few times a year, I crave tofu. Identifiable tofu, that is - not blended into a smoothie or peanut sauce. Done right, marinated perhaps but always well crisped - caramelized, even - in a hot pan, tofu can be delicious. The key to giving your tofu a nice outer crust is to start with a firm variety, then press as much excess liquid out as you can. To do this, sandwich it between a couple layers of good paper towel (not the wussy stuff) and put a skillet or something heavy on top to weigh it down for awhile. The longer you press it, the drier it will become, which will allow it to crisp up nicely.
The dressing is a melange of a bunch of recipes I looked up; as I was shaking it together in its jar it occurred to me that it could do double duty as a marinade for the tofu. So I poured some over my slab of tofu and stuck it in the fridge. (As it turned out, it marinated for more than a day, due to our spontaneous shawarma yesterday.)
This is one of those meals that can be classified as real fast food. (Hey - perhaps that should be a recipe category?) The noodles boil in 3-4 minutes, as long as it takes to fry the tofu, which since it’s already cooked only needs to brown on the outside. Slice some cucumber and shake up your dressing, and you’re good to go.
To quote Mike: “I really liked it. I’m not kidding, that was the first time I sort of actually enjoyed tofu.”
Otsu
Dressing:
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup soy sauce
2 Tbsp. canola oil
2 Tbsp. sesame oil
finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
1 Tbsp. sugar or honey
1 tsp. grated fresh ginger
a squirt of hot chile sauce (the red stuff in the squeeze bottle) - optional
Salad:
about 1/2 lb. (8 oz.) fresh or dried soba (buckwheat) noodles, or as much as you think you’ll need
about a third of a cucumber, halved and sliced
a green onion or two, chopped
half a package of firm tofu
canola or sesame oil, for cooking
as much chopped fresh cilantro as you like
sesame seeds, toasted
To make the dressing, shake all the ingredients up in a jar. If you like, pour some over your slab of tofu and let it sit for a couple hours or up to a couple days. If you want to press it, do it after it comes out of the marinade.
Cook the soba noodles according to package directions, then run them under cold water to cool them down and drain them well. Add the cucumber and green onion, drizzle with about half the dressing, toss and divide among your bowls.
Cut the tofu into about 1″ squares (or bite-sized pieces) and heat a drizzle of oil in a skillet set over medium-high heat. Add the tofu and brown on both (or all) sides. Divide the crispy tofu among the bowls, top with cilantro and sesame seeds, and drizzle with extra dressing. Serve immediately.
Serves 2-4(ish).
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June 08 2008 | one dish and pasta and salads and vegetarian | 2 Comments »
No meat today, please. We’re still digesting.
A conversation with Barbara Kingsolver last week has me thinking more than usual about eating locally. She made a good point - that rather than ponder what we feel like eating for dinner, we should consider what’s local and in season, and plan our meals around those ingredients.
With that in mind, I picked up a few bunches of asparagus over the weekend at the farmers’ market, and read a bit of Jamie Oliver’s advice on growing your own - I don’t often hear about people growing asparagus in their back yards, but I know it’s possible in our climate. Serendipitously, my friend A called on Saturday afternoon and asked if I wanted the small gathering of asparagus that was popping up through her lawn and being trampled by her three boys. Did I! From what I know, it takes 3 years for planting to picking asparagus, and I haven’t yet found a garden centre that sells asparagus plants (although, admittedly, I don’t frequent garden centres… my tomatoes, zucchini and pea seeds came from the Superstore).
I went over and dug it up; it was a monster. A mess of roots and an unseen giant tuber of sorts that supported my weight on the shovel (we gave up before digging that deep) with about 6 stalks emerging from it. I replanted what we could salvage beside the fence in my back yard, about five minutes before W and L conspired to snap off the shoots and throw them over the fence.
So today I still have the asparagus from the market. It’s cold and wet, and so dark I could hardly take photos. I didn’t much feel like cooking, so I threw a pot of pasta on - long squiggly pasta I picked up somewhere - I have vowed not to buy any more pasta until I use up all the half bags of assorted shapes on my shelf. While at the market I also picked up a package of peppered Boursin cheese (decidedly not local, I realize, but on sale), a soft, incredibly decadent cheese that my sister and I sometimes set on the table and spread on crackers while we work on our laptops at the dining room table. I thought I’d crumble it into the hot pasta and toss about until it melts, lubricating it a bit with some reserved pasta water. I imagine any sort of soft cheese would work; goat, ricotta (with lemon!) or even flavoured cream cheese.
While the pasta cooked I snapped the tough ends off the asparagus and cut them into pieces. When the pasta was a couple minutes from being done, I threw the asparagus in with it so that it would be tender but still crisp, and all done at the same time.
For dessert, leftovers from BT this morning. I made gluten free brownies for Jill, who has celiac disease, and they turned out pretty well if I do say so myself! I made them with brown rice flour and millet flour, but I imagine you could use any number of gluten free flours. Because brownies are so dense and fudgy (or should be) and call for very little flour, they are fairly easy to make gluten-free. Next time, I’m trying quinoa flour.
Gluten Free Brownies
Try quinoa or other gluten-free flours such as buckwheat or tapioca in these dense brownies.
½ cup butter, softened
4 oz. semi sweet or dark chocolate, chopped
1 cup packed brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
1 tsp. instant coffee or espresso, dissolved in 1 tsp. water
¼ cup cocoa
¼ cup brown rice flour
¼ cup millet flour
pinch salt
a handful of chopped nuts and/or chocolate chips or more chopped chocolate (optional)
Preheat the oven to 350°F and spray an 8”x8” baking pan with nonstick spray.
Set the butter and chocolate in a stainless steel or glass bowl set over simmering water and let it melt, stirring occasionally, or melt it in the microwave. Set aside to cool slightly. Stir in the sugar, and if it’s not too hot, the eggs, vanilla and coffee.
Add the cocoa, flours and salt, and stir until blended. Stir in some nuts or chocolate chips, if you like. Pour into the pan and bake for 25 minutes, until the edges pull slightly from the pan but the middle is still soft. Set on a wire rack to cool.
Makes 16 brownies.
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June 02 2008 | cookies & squares and dessert and one dish and pasta and vegetarian | 6 Comments »
I have to share a snippet from one of the greatest emails I’ve ever received. This was sent not to me, but to someone I’ve never met from someone I’ve never met, and the one on the receiving end forwarded it to me because she thought I’d get a kick out of it. (I did.):
Just an update on the “pear gingerbread upsidedown cake” situation. I took two PGUCs to a CWA coffee morning and they very nearly caused a stampede. I sent the recipe to five women. One of them took it to a Conoco-Phillips coffee morning and handed out four copies of the recipe. Trouble is, now I feel like I can’t take it to any more coffee mornings because someone else is sure to show up with it - after all, pretty much everyone in town has the recipe by now. I predict that this recipe alone will cause Jakarta grocery stores to run out of molasses.
I have no idea what CWA stands for, but the very idea that Jakarta might be hurting for molasses as a result of this recipe has made me smile for days. So although I rarely make this except during the fall and at Thanksgiving, I can’t wait that long. Besides, there were several pears with giant bites out of them sitting in my fruit bowl.
And here’s the recipe that’s apparently causing a run on molasses in Jakarta:
Upside-Down Pear Gingerbread
One of the biggest selling points of an upside-down cake is the fact that it needs no decorating. When you invert the cake the pear slices end up on top, making it look gratifyingly complete with no need for frosting. It does, however, scream for ice cream or whipped cream – provide a bowl of it alongside for people to serve themselves, or put a dollop on each slice. Pear gingerbread is also great with thick vanilla yogurt. It even works for breakfast.
Topping:
1 Tbsp. butter
2 Tbsp. honey or corn syrup
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1-2 ripe but firm pears or tart apples, peeled and thinly sliced
Gingerbread:
1/4 cup butter or non-hydrogenated margarine, softened
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1 large egg
1/2 cup buttermilk or sour milk
1/4 cup dark molasses
1 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger, or 1 tsp. powdered ginger
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. allspice (optional)
1/4 tsp. salt
Preheat the oven to 350°F and spray an 8″ or 9″ round cake pan with nonstick spray.
To make the topping, melt the butter, honey and brown sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat or microwave it until it’s smooth. (Or combine them in the bottom of the pan, put it in the oven until it melts, then take it out and stir it together.) Pour the mixture over the bottom of the pan and arrange the pear slices on top, placing them tightly together - they shrink a bit as they cook, so you can even get away with overlapping them.
To make the gingerbread batter, beat the butter and brown sugar in a medium bowl until well blended. Add the egg, buttermilk, molasses, and ginger and beat until thoroughly combined.
In a small bowl, stir together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, allspice and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the egg mixture and stir by hand or on the lowest speed of an electric mixer just until the batter is combined. Pour the batter over the sliced pears.
Bake the cake for about 40 minutes, until the top is springy to the touch. Let it stand for 5 minutes, then run a knife around the edge of the cake and invert it onto a plate while it’s still hot. If it cools too much and sticks to the pan, warm it in the oven again before you try to invert it. Don’t worry if any pear slices stick to the bottom of the pan – simply peel them out and place them back on top of the cake where they belong.
And here’s a more summery thing to do with it: to make Blueberry Gingerbread, omit the topping and stir 1 cup of fresh or frozen (unthawed) blueberries into the batter. Bake it as directed in an 8″x8″ pan, and cut into squares.
For dinner, cold sesame noodles. Sesame noodles because I’ve had this weird craving for them for months, and also: have you seen what we’ve been eating lately? I actually wished we had some tofu that I could press the moisture out of and caramelize in the way that Heidi does on 101 Cookbooks. I mean, look at the mahogany colour of that tofu! (I generally don’t consider myself a tofu fan, but I do like it once in awhile when it’s nicely flavoured and crispy. The trick to this is pressing some of the excess moisture out. Soft tofu can also easily travel incognito in things like smoothies and peanut sauce.) My ulterior motive is a piece on picnics tomorrow morning for which I needed to do a test batch of noodles before bringing it to the studio.
A few weeks ago I was at an Asian grocery (Arirang, beside Community Natural Foods on 10th Avenue SW) looking for panko, and picked up a couple packages of fresh noodles. They are the thick(ish) ones you see in Shanghai noodle dishes at Chinese restaurants.
My intent was to take a stab at Shanghai noodles, since W devours them whenever we get takeout. Halfway through the cold sesame noodles it occurred to me that he might not appreciate a dish of cold, vinegary noodles, and so pulled some out of the pot and fried them up in a slick of sesame oil (in the pan that had just done the garlic and ginger), with a drizzle of soy sauce and dab of honey (I have no idea what they do to Shanghai noodles to make them that way), and they turned out pretty well, actually. I sprinkled them with sesame seeds, and he devoured them just as enthusiastically as those that cost $12.95 a plate.
It occurred to me then that my favourite cold sesame noodles might very well have been sautéed before being cooled down and tossed with the dressing/sauce; I think next time rather than just boil and cool the noodles, I’ll give them a quick flash in the pan, too, before cooling them off.
Cold Sesame Noodles
1 Tbsp. canola oil
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger
2 Tbsp. sesame oil
2 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. rice or balsamic vinegar
1 1/2 Tbsp. honey or sugar
a tiny squirt (about 1/4 tsp.) chili sauce or sambal oelek
1 lb. fresh Chinese noodles, rice noodles or spaghetti
2-3 green onions, thinly sliced
1/4 cup toasted sesame seeds (optional)
1/2 cup chopped roasted peanuts (optional)
In a small skillet (or a large one, if you want to sauté your noodles after you boil them) heat the canola oil and sauté the garlic and ginger for a few minutes, until soft but not brown. Transfer to a bowl and add the sesame oil, soy sauce, vinegar, honey and chili sauce.
Meanwhile, cook the noodles according to the package directions, or until tender. Drain them in a colander and run them under cold water to stop them from cooking and cool them down. (Alternatively, drain them and then toss them into a hot skillet with a bit of sesame and/or canola oil, and toss for a few minutes, until the noodles start to brown; set aside to cool before tossing with the dressing.)
Add to the bowl of dressing along with the green onions and sesame seeds and toss well to coat. Let sit for an hour, or refrigerate overnight. Serve topped with chopped peanuts, if you like. (this is best served at room temperature.)
Serves 4-6.
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May 19 2008 | cake and pasta and vegetarian | 4 Comments »
My niece, Emily, spent the day here today, and we plotted to invent something completely (but probably not really) new for dinner: meatball pizza. I started to thaw a chunk of lean ground beef (wish I had bison) and a block of frozen spinach (to hide inside) when my sister remembered that E had soccer practice and they had to leave right away.
So it’s meatballs for two. Mike left for Tofino this morning, so I had half anticipated a weekend of grilled cheese and eggs on toast. But this works - a stash of meatballs in the freezer is a good thing when you’re only cooking for one or two, especially if one of the two has small hands and is a ravenous carnivore.
Meatballs also make a good vehicle for healthy stuff; the aforementioned spinach, the heel slice of a loaf of whole wheat bread, whizzed to crumbs, an egg, the merest sprinkle of ground flax seed (I have to step carefully here, lest I scar W the way my Dad did me by making sawdust burgers out of half extra-lean ground beef and half oat bran), and some grated Parmesan cheese. I rolled the mixture into balls and froze most of them on a cookie sheet, saving a few to brown in my skillet. I had half a can of diced tomatoes in the fridge and so poured that overtop once the meat had a crunchy exterior, thinking I’d do my sauce in the proper Italian way, using just tomatoes, and finish cooking the meatballs at the same time. But it seemed to me it wouldn’t taste like much, so I panicked a little and stirred in a spoonful of pesto.
I chose fusilli only because it’s driving me crazy that I at any given time have about 8 kinds of dried pasta in various shapes on my shelf, each bag or box about 1/4 full.
Here’s a rough spinach meatball formula; adjust ratios as you see fit:
1 lb. lean ground beef or bison
1 pkg. chopped frozen spinach, thawed with all the moisture squeezed out as you add it
1-2 slices whole wheat bread, whizzed to crumbs
1/4 cup grated Parmesan
1 egg (or just the white)
1 Tbsp. ground flax seed
Salt & pepper
Mix it all by hand, making sure not to overwork it. Roll into balls and cook on a rimmed cookie sheet or in a hot skillet; brown on all sides, shaking the pan as they cook, to create a flavorful, crunchy exterior, then pour sauce overtop and simmer until they are cooked through. Frozen raw meatballs can be plopped into a hot pan and cooked in this way straight from frozen.
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May 02 2008 | beef and pasta | 3 Comments »
Let me clarify: chocolate-dipped cheesecake pops are not something I would typically make for dessert on a plain old Monday night. I made them for the Eyeopener because tomorrow I’m going to chat about food blogs. Thinking I’d choose a recipe from one of my favorite sites, I hopped around a few and found that Cream Puffs in Venice, Tartelette, and another blog I stumbled through were all posting cheesecake pops. As I was perusing them my friend S emailed from Whistler, where she is apparently hooked on something from the local chocolate shop called cheesecake bombs. I took this as an unmistakable sign that I should make some. What a hero I’m going to be in the studio tomorrow morning!
The pie was to make use of leftover spaghetti; I did a few segments debunking common cooking myths on BT this morning, and as a result had plenty of leftover cooked pasta that was used to demonstrate the myth that adding oil to the cooking water prevents it from sticking together. (It’s a large volume of water, kept at a rolling boil with space for the spaghetti to move around, that keeps it from sticking. In fact, adding oil to your water will result in an oil slick on your pasta once you drain it, and your sauce won’t stick very well.)
Spaghetti Pie.
I’ve seen many versions of spaghetti pie, some in which the pasta is tossed with the sauce and cheese, then baked, others that have the crust par-baked first to crisp it up, and others with layers of cottage cheese between the noodles and sauce.
So I improvised: tossed the leftover spaghetti with some egg white (I had some whose yolks had been used to make lemon curd), a bit of grated Parmesan, a grinding of pepper and a big spoonful of pesto, just because there was some open in the fridge and W is such a fan, then spread the spaghetti into an oiled pie plate, pushing it up the sides a bit.
I had requests for spinach sauce, but had hastily crumbled and cooked a couple lean Italian sausages, a red pepper, a few fresh tomatoes that had gone too wrinkly for anything but cooking with and a can of tomatoes before remembering this, and pureed sausage, I imagine, is not a Good Thing. So I decided to proceed as if it were a lasagna - I crumbled some ricotta and thawed, squeezed-out spinach over the crust,
topped it with the sauce…
and some grated part-skim mozzarella, and baked it at 350F for about half an hour, until all was golden, crsipy-edged and bubbly. Yum.
The cheesecake pops were simple, really, mostly because I didn’t make the cheesecake from scratch like the others did. Some advised making a cheesecake and then scooping up balls of it with your hands, freezing them and then dipping the frozen wads in chocolate. Because I couldn’t envision blaspheming a cheesecake that way, nor attempting to cut one into teeny fancy shapes using a cookie cutter (too thick for any in my collection) I decided to buy one of those small plain frozen Safeway cheeesecakes and cut it into wedges. It worked perfectly.
After inserting the sticks (bamboo skewers, although popsicle sticks or the 4″ lollipop sticks you can buy at Michael’s would work brilliantly), I put them back in the freezer to solidify while I melted some chocolate chips in the microwave, then half dipped, half spread the melted chocolate onto the frozen wedges. Some sprinkles or other decoration would have worked out well, but I didn’t really have anything. That’s the beauty of radio; you don’t really need to accessorize.
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April 28 2008 | cake and dessert and freezable and one dish and pasta and sweet stuff | 6 Comments »
After three nights and four days of events, I got home from Banff mid-afternoon and didn’t much feel like cooking dinner. But it occurred to me that W hasn’t had anything green for a long time, and I didn’t feel like take-out or cereal, either. So I sucked it up and made a quick batch of spinach spaghetti sauce while the pasta boiled.
You do this by sautéing a bunch of spinach (or half a bag of the prewashed stuff) in a little canola oil, until it wilts; pour your tomato sauce overtop (or go the other way; heat up the sauce and stir in the spinach until it wilts), pour it into the food processor and whiz until it’s smooth. Voilá - spinach that is undetectable to a two year old.
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April 27 2008 | freezable and one dish and pasta and vegetarian | 3 Comments »
I was at a meeting until about 5:30 today, trying to pull together the final details of a fundraiser I’m emceeing next Thursday night at the Hotel Arts. (An 8 course dinner, plus wine and oysters, prepared by some of Calgary’s best chefs, for the low low price of $150.) We’re trying to raise money for Nicole Pageau, an Edmonton woman in her 60s who when she saw the plight of the widows and orphans of the Rwandan genocide on TV and thought how awful, I wish there was something I could do, just picked up and moved to Rwanda. With $5000 in her bank account she moved from Alberta to Rwanda and when she got there, just sort of wandered around asking people if they knew where she could find the widows, and when she did, she built a village.
(That was me shamelessly trying to push tickets on anyone interested in joining me for dinner next Thursday night?)
At last years’ fundraiser she brought a few of the Rwandan volunteers with her, and one of them said something to me I won’t ever forget. He was telling me how so many people ask him why he does what he does - devote his life to the widows and orphans - and his answer is, “I’m only human.” He doesn’t understand why we North Americans use that phrase to justify our weaknesses, or wrongdoings, or to excuse bad behavior. He thinks the meaning of the phrase should be the opposite; that it should be considered “only human” to be good and honest and charitable. So he’s sticking with his explanation, hoping the new meaning will catch on.
So I got home at 5:42 without a plan, and it was dinnertime like right now. When I poked through the fridge I discover a jar of peanut sauce I had forgotten I made last week, so I put on a pot of spaghettini - thinner-than-usual spaghetti that I like to make because it cooks faster (because it’s thinner) and allows a greater sauce-to-pasta ratio (because it’s thinner).
The great thing about peanut noodles is that you can add anything to them. I had carrots, which I peeled and then kept on peeling off strips of - all the better to twirl around my fork with the noodles - and a chunk of yellow pepper, and some cilantro leftover from last night’s Indian Hamburger Helper. Peas would have been good, or asparagus, or broccoli (a handful of that bagged broccoli-slaw works great), green beans, sprouts, cucumber, mango… and any sort of leftover meat; roast chicken, pork, or tofu, or even frozen shrimp, dumped straight from the freezer bag into the boiling water with the noodles to either quickly cook or thaw. (Same thing with the peas; just dump them in the water with the noodles for the last couple minutes of cooking time.) I pulled out a bit of frozen shredded roast chicken and did the same - tossed it in the water with the noodles to thaw as they finished cooking. Then drained it all, put some in a little bowl with tomato sauce for W, then ran the rest under cool water and tossed it with the peanut sauce and veggies I had torn and chopped. Dinner was ready by 5:58.
Peanut Sauce
Peanut sauce is a wonderful thing. Double the recipe (leftovers keep well) if you want extra to pour over cold noodles or dip satays, lettuce wraps, rice paper rolls, grilled chicken or shrimp. Use more or less broth to make the sauce as thick or thin as you like. If you like coconut flavor in your peanut sauce but not the saturated fat it contains, add a teaspoon of coconut extract.
2-4 Tbsp. chicken or veggie broth or coconut milk
4 Tbsp. peanut butter (preferrably the just peanuts kind, but any will work
3 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. brown sugar or honey
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar or lime juice
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 tsp. grated fresh ginger
1 tsp. sesame oil (optional)
1/4 – 1/2 tsp. curry paste (optional)
Combine all the ingredients in a blender or jar and whiz or shake until smooth. Refrigerate until you’re ready to serve it. Makes about a cup.
Per tablespoon: 26 calories, 1 g total fat (0.2 g saturated fat, 0.5 g monounsaturated fat, 0.4 g polyunsaturated fat), 0.7 g protein, 3.9 g carbohydrate, 0 mg cholesterol, 0 g fiber. 35% calories from fat
On the downside, W was far too quiet as we were eating our noodles. He came downstairs with a funny rash all over him - a pinky red rash that was greasy and smudged easily.
I asked him if he drew all over himself with lipstick. He nodded, this over-exaggerated nod he does, and added, “and wall!”
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April 15 2008 | one dish and pasta and vegetarian | 10 Comments »
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It occurred to me as I reached the late 90s that I should do something to commemorate my 100th post. 100! It’s astounding how much one can accomplish when one forces oneself to do a little bit every night.
I quickly emailed my family, inviting them all to dinner to celebrate. This is how I “entertain”: invite now, think and clean up later. It’s the old “throw your hat over the fence” analogy: if you throw your hat over the fence, you have to climb over and get it. People always ask how we have time to have parties or people over for brunch or dinner - if you wait until there’s a gap in your schedule, you’ll never have time. Just invite people over, and you’ll find it. Plus if we never had people coming over we’d never be forced to clean the house properly.
But. There were 8 adults coming to dinner, and 5 kids aged 2, 3, 5 and 9. All were arriving at times their schedule would permit. Mike thought I was going to make something ultra-fancy, but when I invite family or friends over for dinner I do it for the company, not to be all gourmet about it. (Although, admittedly, people are often used as guinea pigs around here.)
Solution: ham. (Question: why do they call it baked ham, but roast beef or turkey, when it’s the same process?) Ham is already cooked, so all you’re doing is glazing and reheating it. It’s impossible to screw up. It isn’t going to be ruined if people are late. Everyone can carve off as much as they like, and it’s just as fine at room temperature than fresh from the oven. Kids love it. Plus it makes the best leftovers. I’ve had my eye on this spinach-potato-ham hash with poached egg on top on the cover of last month’s Canadian Living.
Unfortunately, my plan was not as obstacle-free as I intended, but I did learn something from the experience. I sent Mike to the grocery store and he came back with a smoked pork shoulder (also known as a picnic ham, I imagine because its smaller size makes it more portable for those types who would lug an entire ham along on a picnic), something I hadn’t cooked before. It had a thick layer of fat and skin on top, and was tightly wrapped in mesh. Although it was cured, so presumably the same as any other smoked ham and not a raw pork shoulder that would require lengthy cooking, it had these vague instructions on the package: cook and eat.
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So was it cooked? Uncooked? It was smoked, so that should have answered my question, but this is the sort of thing you want to be sure of when you have 14 people over for dinner. I Googled it, and every site I found seemed to think the thing needed to be braised, but it wasn’t raw. Apparently there are partially cooked smoked shoulders and fully cooked smoked shoulders, but there was no indication which this was. Ultimately I decided to take the advice of one site and cover it with cold water in a large pot, bring it to a boil and dump the water out to draw some of the sodium out, then fill it halfway full again and braise it for an hour (braising is a long slow cooking method with some moisture involved), then pulled it out, scored the skin and popped it in the oven like I would any other ham. The biggest problem seemed to lie with this slab of fat and skin on top - presumably what would turn into those cracklings everyone makes such a fuss about - but with it in the way, where does the glaze go? So I scored it and threw it in the oven, then when it started to turn crackly I cut it off, put it in its own pan to finish cooking, and painted on a glaze made with equal parts brown sugar, grainy mustard and balsamic vinegar. (No one ate the cracklings. They were a little too Hannibal Lecter for me.)
While it roasted (or baked?) I poked 3 big sweet potatoes/yams (depending on how your grocer has decided to label them) with a fork and slid them onto the oven rack around it. I adore sweet potatoes, and often wonder why they aren’t often used for more than oven fries. To mash them, you don’t need to peel and boil them like you might with regular potatoes. Just bake them, which contains any nutrients and gives them even more flavor - like cooking meat on the bone makes it more flavorful, so does cooking potatoes in their skins - they will darken and caramelize a bit just below the surface. When they are soft, pull them out, pull off their skins (this is easy, as the flesh tends to withdraw a bit from its skin, creating an air pocket that makes it simple to pull off wit your fingers) and mash with a bit of butter and a spoonful of orange juice concentrate - I scoop it straight from the freezer; it will melt into the hot potatoes. A bit of salt and pepper, and a drizzle of milk if they are too dry, and they are done. If you like, a drizzle of maple syrup is delicious too. Sweet potatoes tend to not be as starchy as white potatoes, so they are actually moister and easier to mash.
The mac & cheese was actually whole wheat rotini & cheese, since I knew that’s primarily what the kids would end up eating. (Brown rice pasta has an even better mouthfeel, but I didn’t have any.) Don’t hate me for saying so, but I don’t use a recipe when I make mac & cheese. I boil as much pasta as I want to make (just as you would if you were making spagetti for the family) and while it cooks, make a roux out of roughly equal parts butter and flour. A roux is just butter and flour, whacked into a hot pan and melted, smoothing out all the lumps. Pour some milk in (2 cups or so per 3 Tbsp. of butter-flour - you’ll get a feel for it) and bring it to a gentle boil. You won’t be able to tell how thick it’s going to get until it starts to bubble - once it bubbles for a full minute it will have reached its full thickening potential, and you’l get rid of any starchy, floury taste. Stir in a few handfuls of grated cheese, and it will melt into the sauce. I discovered a block of Swiss in my fridge that wasn’t going anywhere, and it melted beautifully. Drain the pasta and stir it into the cheese sauce, or vice versa. You could serve it at this point, or scatter it with crumbs (or more cheese) and bake it until it’s bubbly.
Macaroni & Cheese
Mac and cheese that doesn’t come out of a box is something everyone should be able to make. It doesn’t require much more time or effort than KD, and is the ultimate in comfort food. Experiment by adding different cheeses – intensely flavored ones such as Gruyère or blue cheese are best. It’s a great way to get rid of leftover cheese bits you might have lurking in the fridge.
1/2 lb. (250 g) dry macaroni, whole wheat rotini, small shells or other pasta
Salt
3 Tbsp. butter
3 Tbsp. flour
2 1/2 cups milk
2-3 cups grated old cheddar cheese, or any combination of cheeses you have in the fridge
Bread Crumb Topping (optional):
2 slices sandwich bread (preferrably whole wheat), torn into pieces
2 Tbsp. canola or olive oil or melted butter
1/4 cup grated Parmesan
In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook the pasta until it’s tender but not mushy. Drain well in a colander and set aside.
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C).
In the empty pot (no need to wash it out), melt the butter over medium heat. Add the flour and mustard and stir well with a whisk, cooking for a minute or so until the mixture starts to turn golden. Stir in the milk and bring the sauce to a boil, whisking constantly. The sauce must reach a full boil in order for the flour to reach its full thickening potential. Reduce the heat and simmer for a few minutes, until the mixture is nice and thick.
Remove the sauce from the heat and stir in the cheese until it melts. Add salt to taste, then stir in the drained pasta. If you want a bread crumb topping, pulse the bread, butter and Parmesan in a food processor until the bread turns to crumbs and the mixture is well blended. Pour the macaroni and cheese into an appropriately sized baking dish and top with the bread crumbs or additional cheese. (It can be made up to 24 hours ahead and refrigerated in the baking dish; sprinkle with the crumb mixture or cheese right before you bake it.) Bake for 15-20 minutes, until the topping is golden and it’s bubbly around the edges.
Serves 4-6.
The free 4 pound box of strawberries that came with $150 worth of groceries at Superstore earlier in the week made up my mind about dessert: strawberry shortcakes. Easy, not fancy, kids love it. And what else am I going to do with 4 pounds of strawberries before my rhubarb has begun to sprout?
Strawberry shortcakes are generally made with biscuits sweetened with a little more sugar; since I’ve already posted my whole wheat and olive oil biscuit recipe, I thought I’d use one that I made when I did food styling for Trish Magwood a few months ago; these are apparently her hottest sellers back at Dish in Toronto. (As usual, I changed the recipe a bit.) If you want a more nutritious shortcake, use the whole wheat biscuit recipe and add a couple tablespoons of sugar to the dry ingredients.
Strawberry Shortcakes
3 cups all-purpose flour (or half all-purpose, half whole wheat)
1/3 cup sugar
2 ½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
¾ cup butter, cut into pieces
1 cup buttermilk
coarse sugar for sprinkling (optional)
2 lb strawberries, hulled, sliced and tossed with a little extra sugar if you like (this will coax some of the juice out of the strawberries, which makes everything nicer)
1 cup whipping cream, whipped with a drop of vanilla and a spoonful of sugar
Preheat oven to 425°F.
In a bowl, stir together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add butter pieces, using fingertips or pastry blender, work butter into dry ingredients until mixture resembles course cornmeal. Leave a few larger pieces to create flakiness. (I do all this in the food processor, then dump it into a bowl to stir in the buttermilk.)
Add buttermilk and mix with a spatula until ingredients are moistened (do not over mix).
Gather dough into a disk on a cookie sheet that has been sprayed with nonstick spray. Pat into a circle that is about 1″ thick; brush with a little extra buttermilk or milk (you can even use your fingers with this) and if you have some, sprinkle with coarse sugar. Cut into 8 triangles. Bake for 12-15 minutes or until golden.
Split the biscuits and load up with strawberries and whipped cream.
Serves 8.
As it turned out we were celebrating more than Day 100; my brother in law Rory just finished writing his medical exams, Emily made the 1st tier soccer team, my Mom survived their AGM yesterday, my parents bought a house just blocks from us, Willem got up in the middle of the night to pee in the toilet. (And a couple other things I’m not allowed to post for thousands to see, sorry.) And it was Wednesday, and we were all together for dinner.
So much to celebrate.
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April 09 2008 | dessert and pasta and pork and sweet stuff | 5 Comments »
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