Since this blog is supposed to be about kitchen adventures, I think it's only fair to post the good ones as well as the bad...
Yesterday's festive meal was a total success: corned beef, cabbage, and, yes, green mashed potatoes. It was the first time I'd made corned beef, which turned out to be ridiculously easy.
But the most important part of the meal was the chocolate stout cake for dessert.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Don't salt the rice
Because TS likes it, and because it's healthy, we picked up some brown rice recently. I, personally, hadn't eaten brown rice in about 15 years -- I think it's disgustingly bland, and I hate the chewy consistency. But smothered in stir-fry, I figured it might be manageable. And I could take comfort in knowing how healthy it is.
Since I've never made it myself (I'm a jasmine rice + rice cooker girl), I actually read the instructions on the bag. Besides the normal 2-1 ratio of water and rice, the recipe also suggested adding some salt for flavor. Bingo! Maybe that's what was missing in my childhood.
Even as I read, though, I frowned a bit. A whole teaspoon of salt for just one cup of rice? That seemed like a lot. But it wouldn't be in the "recipe" if it didn't taste right...right? So I grabbed the teaspoon measure and poured out the salt. And I hesitated again, over the pot, thinking that looked like an awful lot of salt for the amount of rice. But again, what do I know? I've never cooked brown rice, and my major complaint is its lack of taste. So in went the salt.
45 minutes later, TS and I settled down with a movie and plates of stir-fry and brown rice. It smelled good. It looked right. It tasted...salty.
Turns out a full teaspoon of salt is a bit much for just one cup of rice. About 3/4 of a teaspoon too much. Especially with a stir-fry that includes soy sauce.
We still ate it (why waste food?), but I chased dinner with two full glasses of water. Lesson learned -- although I think the idea of some salt has merit. Next time I'll try a pinch, instead of a teaspoon...
Since I've never made it myself (I'm a jasmine rice + rice cooker girl), I actually read the instructions on the bag. Besides the normal 2-1 ratio of water and rice, the recipe also suggested adding some salt for flavor. Bingo! Maybe that's what was missing in my childhood.
Even as I read, though, I frowned a bit. A whole teaspoon of salt for just one cup of rice? That seemed like a lot. But it wouldn't be in the "recipe" if it didn't taste right...right? So I grabbed the teaspoon measure and poured out the salt. And I hesitated again, over the pot, thinking that looked like an awful lot of salt for the amount of rice. But again, what do I know? I've never cooked brown rice, and my major complaint is its lack of taste. So in went the salt.
45 minutes later, TS and I settled down with a movie and plates of stir-fry and brown rice. It smelled good. It looked right. It tasted...salty.
Turns out a full teaspoon of salt is a bit much for just one cup of rice. About 3/4 of a teaspoon too much. Especially with a stir-fry that includes soy sauce.
We still ate it (why waste food?), but I chased dinner with two full glasses of water. Lesson learned -- although I think the idea of some salt has merit. Next time I'll try a pinch, instead of a teaspoon...
Monday, January 18, 2010
Bacon Danger
Crepes are a Christmas tradition in our house. It's one started by Troublesmith's parents; growing up, his family always had crepes for Christmas breakfast, and we decided to keep that going when we moved away. (Our addition, in a nod to our current home, is mimosas with fresh California orange juice.)
Since he was the one with 20+ years of watching at his mother's elbow, TS became the de facto crepemaker in our house -- which makes me the de facto prep cook. This year, I also made the bacon to go with the crepes.
Everything went just fine until the very, very end. Apparently I had the pan hotter than necessary, because the bacon grease was popping a little more than usual. As I was picking up the very last piece of meat, a splatter of grease hit me high on the arm, above my elbow. Even as my brain was warning me not to flinch, my reflexes kicked in, and I jerked the arm holding the bacon. That caused the dripping slice to swing toward me, and sent hot drops of grease flying toward my face and neck.
Luckily the bacon platter was sitting on the counter, because I immediately dropped everything I was holding and raced to the sink to splash cold water on my neck. Poor TS had no idea what happened; he just saw me screech and leap for the sink. I didn't get any real burns, but for the start of the new year, I had a nice red mark on my neck.
Fortunately, that mark has since faded, so there isn't a permanent scar. But there is a lesson here: when cooking bacon, don't flinch!
Since he was the one with 20+ years of watching at his mother's elbow, TS became the de facto crepemaker in our house -- which makes me the de facto prep cook. This year, I also made the bacon to go with the crepes.
Everything went just fine until the very, very end. Apparently I had the pan hotter than necessary, because the bacon grease was popping a little more than usual. As I was picking up the very last piece of meat, a splatter of grease hit me high on the arm, above my elbow. Even as my brain was warning me not to flinch, my reflexes kicked in, and I jerked the arm holding the bacon. That caused the dripping slice to swing toward me, and sent hot drops of grease flying toward my face and neck.
Luckily the bacon platter was sitting on the counter, because I immediately dropped everything I was holding and raced to the sink to splash cold water on my neck. Poor TS had no idea what happened; he just saw me screech and leap for the sink. I didn't get any real burns, but for the start of the new year, I had a nice red mark on my neck.
Fortunately, that mark has since faded, so there isn't a permanent scar. But there is a lesson here: when cooking bacon, don't flinch!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
...and then I forgot to hit "publish"
I wrote this at least a week ago, possibly a week and a half, and then I forgot to hit "publish". Distracted much?
It's been weeks since I really cooked, thanks to a combination of...stuff I can't remember...and being sick. So today, I ventured back into the kitchen, figuring it was high time I assembled a hot plate of food for TS, instead of the other way around.
Nothing fancy; just leftover chicken and potatoes. In an effort to keep things healthy, I grabbed a bag of green beans out of the freezer. And then... and then... I burned the green beans. Got so wrapped up in whatever I started to do that I couldn't even keep track of frozen green beans.
I even smelled them getting crispy, but figured it must be the fried chicken heating up in the oven. Not so! To my husband's credit, he agreed that a pat of butter was enough to cover up the burned taste, so dinner was saved. But still. Frozen vegetables??
It's been weeks since I really cooked, thanks to a combination of...stuff I can't remember...and being sick. So today, I ventured back into the kitchen, figuring it was high time I assembled a hot plate of food for TS, instead of the other way around.
Nothing fancy; just leftover chicken and potatoes. In an effort to keep things healthy, I grabbed a bag of green beans out of the freezer. And then... and then... I burned the green beans. Got so wrapped up in whatever I started to do that I couldn't even keep track of frozen green beans.
I even smelled them getting crispy, but figured it must be the fried chicken heating up in the oven. Not so! To my husband's credit, he agreed that a pat of butter was enough to cover up the burned taste, so dinner was saved. But still. Frozen vegetables??
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
It's not me, it's him
I've been completely useless in the kitchen this month. One day I did manage Kraft macaroni & cheese -- but that nearly went sideways when I put the knife in the refrigerator and came this close to putting the butter in the dishwasher.
Luckily, my awesome husband has picked up the slack, whipping up things like carne asada tacos, guacamole burgers (with homemade guacamole, natch), and pizza from scratch. He's also going to handle Thanksgiving, putting the turkey in the oven at 2 a.m. so we can eat when I get home from work.
As part of that holiday menu, he's going to make what I think will become a regular Thanksgiving dish in our house. It combines all the things you want in that day's dessert: a little pumpkin, a little chocolate, and a nutty meringue to impress your guests. And to make it even better, it's his own creation.
I give you: Troublesmith's Fall Pie.
YOU WILL NEED:
1 prebaked pie crust
1-2 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1 large egg white
1/6 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/4 cup sugar
1/6 cup packed brown sugar
3/8 tsp. salt
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
3/4 cups heavy cream
1 cup cooked pumpkin puree
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 ounce unsweetened chocolate, melted & slightly cooled
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/4 tsp. grated or ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 cup chopped walnuts, almonds, pecans or other nut
DO THIS:
Preheat oven to 425 degrees
Prepare pumpkin batter: In large bowl, whisk large eggs until smooth.
Add pumpkin, cream, 1/4 cup sugar, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, cloves and 1/4 tsp. salt. Mix thoroughly.
Pour pumpkin batter into prepared pie crust
Prepare fudge batter: In separate, large bowl, cream butter with remaining sugar. Beat in egg yolks & melted chocolate. Beat in flour and vanilla. Stir in nuts.
In separate, medium bowl, whip egg whites and 1/8 tsp. salt until stiff but not dry. Fold egg whites into fudge batter.
Bake pie crust with pumpkin batter for 15-20 minutes, until batter has firmed a bit. Remove from oven.
Gently transfer fudge batter to top of pumpkin batter with broad spatula. Gently smooth top. Return pie to oven.
Reduce oven temp to 325 degrees. Bake 25-35 minutes.
Luckily, my awesome husband has picked up the slack, whipping up things like carne asada tacos, guacamole burgers (with homemade guacamole, natch), and pizza from scratch. He's also going to handle Thanksgiving, putting the turkey in the oven at 2 a.m. so we can eat when I get home from work.
As part of that holiday menu, he's going to make what I think will become a regular Thanksgiving dish in our house. It combines all the things you want in that day's dessert: a little pumpkin, a little chocolate, and a nutty meringue to impress your guests. And to make it even better, it's his own creation.
I give you: Troublesmith's Fall Pie.
YOU WILL NEED:
1 prebaked pie crust
1-2 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1 large egg white
1/6 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/4 cup sugar
1/6 cup packed brown sugar
3/8 tsp. salt
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
3/4 cups heavy cream
1 cup cooked pumpkin puree
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 ounce unsweetened chocolate, melted & slightly cooled
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/4 tsp. grated or ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 cup chopped walnuts, almonds, pecans or other nut
DO THIS:
Preheat oven to 425 degrees
Prepare pumpkin batter: In large bowl, whisk large eggs until smooth.
Add pumpkin, cream, 1/4 cup sugar, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, cloves and 1/4 tsp. salt. Mix thoroughly.
Pour pumpkin batter into prepared pie crust
Prepare fudge batter: In separate, large bowl, cream butter with remaining sugar. Beat in egg yolks & melted chocolate. Beat in flour and vanilla. Stir in nuts.
In separate, medium bowl, whip egg whites and 1/8 tsp. salt until stiff but not dry. Fold egg whites into fudge batter.
Bake pie crust with pumpkin batter for 15-20 minutes, until batter has firmed a bit. Remove from oven.
Gently transfer fudge batter to top of pumpkin batter with broad spatula. Gently smooth top. Return pie to oven.
Reduce oven temp to 325 degrees. Bake 25-35 minutes.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Quince Answer (sort of)
For me, the jury is still out on quince. It definitely has a unique flavor, and I think I like it. But thanks to what seems to be an incorrect recipe and my own inattention, it was a little hard to tell.
Instead of getting a juicy roasted fruit from this recipe, what came out of the oven was more like quince mush. The recipe says to cook it for 5 to 7 hours. I checked the fruit at 2 hours, and it was definitely still hard. I checked again at 4 1/2 hours, and it was completely overcooked.
Despite the texture problem, though, the taste seems really lovely. I can see why it's so popular as a jelly or with roasted meat. TS describes it as a cross between a pear and a cranberry. That's not exactly right, but I can't think of anything closer.
So here are my notes on quince so far:
-Pay attention to the warnings about its raw texture. It is extremely hard, and I almost had a nasty slip with the knife.
-Also follow the directions to cut out all but the actual flesh. Every bit of core and skin that stayed on turned hard and knobbly.
-Raw quince is said to be bitter and astringent. Naturally, I had to try it. It didn't taste like much of anything, but this particular fruit had been sitting on my counter for a while, so that may be why.
-The cut fruit had a beautiful scent.
-The color change as it cooked was pretty cool. Mine turned into a jewel-toned rose, if that makes any sense.
Overall, definitely worth another go. I think I might try it in something savory next time. And I saw several recipes that suggested mixing quince syrup with prosecco...I think that would also be delicious.
Instead of getting a juicy roasted fruit from this recipe, what came out of the oven was more like quince mush. The recipe says to cook it for 5 to 7 hours. I checked the fruit at 2 hours, and it was definitely still hard. I checked again at 4 1/2 hours, and it was completely overcooked.
Despite the texture problem, though, the taste seems really lovely. I can see why it's so popular as a jelly or with roasted meat. TS describes it as a cross between a pear and a cranberry. That's not exactly right, but I can't think of anything closer.
So here are my notes on quince so far:
-Pay attention to the warnings about its raw texture. It is extremely hard, and I almost had a nasty slip with the knife.
-Also follow the directions to cut out all but the actual flesh. Every bit of core and skin that stayed on turned hard and knobbly.
-Raw quince is said to be bitter and astringent. Naturally, I had to try it. It didn't taste like much of anything, but this particular fruit had been sitting on my counter for a while, so that may be why.
-The cut fruit had a beautiful scent.
-The color change as it cooked was pretty cool. Mine turned into a jewel-toned rose, if that makes any sense.
Overall, definitely worth another go. I think I might try it in something savory next time. And I saw several recipes that suggested mixing quince syrup with prosecco...I think that would also be delicious.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
If...then
If you decide to make this recipe: Glowing Jack-o-Lantern Cookies. And if your primary workspace is the counter over your dishwasher. Then you might not want to put the bag of crushed candy on that counter while you do the rest of the recipe.
Because the heat from the running dishwasher might cause the candy to melt into one giant lump, which is somehow much more difficult to smash up than the original candies. And if you're doing all this in the hour before you have to go work, the stubborn candy blob might make you late.
Theoretically, I mean.
Because the heat from the running dishwasher might cause the candy to melt into one giant lump, which is somehow much more difficult to smash up than the original candies. And if you're doing all this in the hour before you have to go work, the stubborn candy blob might make you late.
Theoretically, I mean.
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