a steak to the heart

Marge: Homer, I have to go out to pick up something for dinner.

Homer: Steak?
Marge: Money's too tight for steak.
Homer: Steak?
Marge: Eh, suuure... steak.

Tenderloin medallions in porcini and tarragon-Marsala cream sauce.
Mashed potatoes with caramelized shallots.

Roasted asparagus with garlic.

Happy Valentine's Day, from Marge and Homer.

romesco the stone

I wanted to cook something new and interesting and a little bit special last night, since I've been in something of a rut with my old standbys (good as they are). A little bit of skimming over on Epicurious led me to Chicken Cutlets with Romesco and Serrano Cracklin's, which probably caught my eye because of what appears to be a misplaced apostrophe.*

The dish really appealed to me, though, and I decided I was going to give it a whirl. I even conceded to myself that I would cook exactly from the recipe, which I rarely do -- but romesco has a distinct flavor profile** and, having never experimented with it before, I wanted to do it correctly before I started riffing on it.

I did almost skimp and use pre-made breadcrumbs, but after much deliberation at the grocery store, I caved and bought the baguette. Since the crumbs go into the sauce, dried ones would change the texture, and I realized I couldn't predict exactly how that would turn out. Baguette it was! I even bought new smoked paprika to make sure the old stuff in the cupboard wouldn't deprive the sauce of its depth of flavor.

Sherry vinegar, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. I don't understand how a well-stocked store that carried several different kinds of high-end, infused, and/or otherwise esoteric vinegars didn't carry a simple basic like sherry vinegar, but oh well; barrel-aged red-wine vinegar stood in nicely. I also had to substitue prosciutto for the serrano, although the recipe itself sanctions that, so I didn't fret too much about it.

So I came home and got out the mini-prep. I whirred, I measured, I toasted, I chopped, I pounded***, I dredged****, I sautéed, and then we ate.

Oh, boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

The fresh breadcrumbs and parsley on the chicken kept it incredibly tender. The smoky, nutty sauce -- enhanced by crisp bits of salty prosciutto -- provided a complex base for the chicken, soft lettuce, and herbal parsley, which sang with brightness. A complete stunner of a dish, and exactly the kind of thing I wanted to make for a just-a-bit-special night in.

I can't wait for this to become one of the old standbys.



*I suppose it's because "cracklin'" in the singular uses an apostrophe to show the missing "g," but putting it into the plural makes it look like a possessive to me. Darn grammatical cognitive dissonance!

**As much as anything can that of course has regional variations all over the place, and about which people argue that only their region's is the "true" version, of course.

***Yes, I could have bought chicken cutlets, but it's so much more fine to buy the regular chicken breasts and whack the hell out of 'em, don't you think?

****I was confused that the recipe didn't recommend dredging in an egg-wash or the like, but although some of the crumb mixture of course fell off, I think the freshness of the bread allowed them to stick better than I expected.

tomato darn hot

(This title may be the worst play-on-words I've yet attempted.)


When the entire country finds itself strangled by a heat wave, what's a girl to do for lunch?

A giant bowl of gazpacho, that's what.

Now, I don't make gazpacho with bread, which I thought meant I wasn't adhering to tradition. Just now, however, a friend who has been living in Spain for a year told me that, while of course it depends whom you ask and where you are, gazpacho is the vegetable soup, and salmorejo is the bread version. So I guess I'm not as much of a renegade as I thought!

I found some gorgeous (actually, ugly as sin, but beautifully ripe and wonderful) heirloom tomatoes at the market. Grabbed a cucumber and a yellow onion and, after minimal prep, threw it all in the food processor with huge handfuls of cilantro and parsley, plenty of salt and pepper, and a couple small cloves of raw garlic. A squeeze of lemon juice and a few hits of hot sauce, and I had a huge batch of gazpacho for a few lunches.

I topped my bowl with diced avocado from the small half I had leftover, and man, did it fit the bill. Take that, ridiculous heat wave.

in the immortal words of homer simpson, {drool}

Sometimes you're at Whole Foods, and you see an item.

An item you know you could make, but you just don't have the time or the inclination.

So you buy this item, all the time thinking to yourself, Well, whatever.

Sometimes that item is roasted garlic butter.

Could I make this? Sure.

Did I have the time to do so today? Nope.

Were mushrooms sautéed in it the most goshdarnfreaking delicious thing I've eaten in ages? Oh holy hell yes.

Sure, the seared flank steak marinated in scallions, sage, rosemary, thyme, soy, Worcestershire, and red wine was also amazing. So were the crazygood roasted asparagus. But seriously, roasted garlic butter.

Goshdarnfreakingdelicious.

i think those new droids are gonna work out just fine

Recipe for a successful* Sunday:
1) Take shoes ordered online back to DSW.

• 1a) Spend a long time finding other shoes instead of just returning ill-fitting pairs ordered online.

2) Feel pleased how "little" final bill is, wilfully ignoring you already paid a certain amount and are just exchanging, more or less
3) Head over to Bed Bath and Beyond for new mattress pad. 

• 3a) Acquire two new pillows as well. Splurge on what is essentially a ShamWow to dry the dog (because you're tired of sacrificing real towels), and a cast-iron grill pan to replace warped nonstick grill pan you've had for years. 

4) Once again, feel inordinately pleased with yourself for, really, just spending a lot of money. 
5) Lug large bags of stuff home and immediately fill ginormous plastic BB&B bags with trash and recycling.

• 5a) Feel suddenly bad about consumerism. Soothe soul by washing dirty sheets for remaking bed with new mattress pad. Refuse to admit this is nonsensical.

6) Spend way too much time finding recipe to use friend's homemade Argentine chorizo. Settle on "shrimp and chorizo pizza with escarole and manchego" because you like all those ingredients, even though you have no pizza stone and no longer have time to make dough. 

• 6a) Buy all other ingredients at store, including dough. Assume you will magically figure out how to bake it.
• 6b) You're right.

My pizza totally 
looked exactly like 
this one. 
Except for how 
it didn't.

7) Consume dinner. Get stupidly full; actually save last piece of pizza for leftovers. Begin plotting when to make pizza again with other two chorizo links.

8) Throw in a disc of Star Trek: The Next Generation and finish your wine.

9) Put new mattress pad on bed. Remake bed. Consider climbing into bed. Decide to postpone until at least 9 p.m. for appearance's sake.

10) Seriously contemplate eating the leftover pizza. 

• 10a) Resist. 

11) More TNG. More wine. Feel inordinately pleased with (self-described) witty blog post.

FIN.

*"successful": "resulting or terminating in success"; incredibly boring to the entire rest of the world.

culinaeria (borkborkbork)

As an anniversary gift, my adorable husband got me a gift certificate.

WAIT! This is a good thing. The gift certificate was for a cooking class at the just-opened, just-around-the-corner CulinAerie .

I took some time investigating the calendar, which, since they just opened, only runs until the beginning of February. Still, there are several classes that I've considered signing up for. Sadly, the "pizza" class was for teenagers.

Kidding! Well, no, it *is* for teens. But I did consider signing up until I realized that.

However, I'm not kidding about the fact that "Sauces" is a three-parter and I just can't commit to that at this point.

It came down to the "Tapas: Beyond Tortilla Espanola" class, and the "Breads for Beginners" class. And while I'm very interested in the tapas, I really want to go and have the space to mix, knead, and shape some sesame chapati, French pain au lait, Moroccan country bread, and banana walnut chocolate bread.

So, I'm going to attend that class on Sunday the 21st. Jim and I will definitely reap the benefits of what I bring home. Let's just hope I don't sign myself up as their fulltime assistant...I need the income from the other job I have, which I truly enjoy.

Even if it doesn't result in crumbs.

cruet to be kind

So a while back (I can't remember when), my mom gave me the spoon rest that she always had in our kitchen when I was growing up. She had the one from my grandma's kitchen, and thus it was something of a generational passing-along, if you will.

Of course, at some point, something fell out of a cabinet onto Jim as he was trying to get it, and the spoon rest shattered.  It wasn't a huge deal; sure, I didn't have anywhere to rest my dormant-but-in-use spoons, but really, a saucer stands in just fine.

Not terribly long thereafter, Jim was doing something else and broke one of the cruets -- I think the olive oil cruet broke first.*

Yes, I said "first." That's because another time, Jim** was doing something in the kitchen, and lo! The balsamic vinegar cruet also shattered into nothing.

Such is life. Those cruets were kind of blah anyway, and it isn't as though these substances don't come in perfectly handy bottles of their own. I just happen to like the decorative and easy-pour nature of countertop cruets.

Well, a while back, we bought an uber-cheap spoon rest at Bed Bath and Beyond. At the time, I had suggested we possibly splurge on the stainless steel version, but Mr. Maltese professed his adamant avowal that he would not break anything in the kitchen ever again, that he would pay attention to the placement of items, I agreed to go with the  black china spoon rest.

At the time, I noted it was about $3, so replacing it wouldn't be a big deal anyway. Jim shot daggers at me when I said as much -- after all, there was no way that thing was going down on his watch.

Over time, I also lamented the loss of the cruets, so my mom, masterful shopper that she is, found a wonderful set from Williams-Sonoma and gifted them to me. (I adore them; they are far more elegant and also utile than the el-cheapo set I had before.) 

Cut to today.

{Leigh's work phone rings; Jim's cell is caller ID.}

Me: "Hey?"

Jim: "Can I put stain stick on a sweater to get out balsamic vinegar?"

Me: "What is the sweater made of?"

Jim: "I don't know. Guess I should take it off."

{rustling}

Me: "What were you putting balsamic on?"

Jim: {beat}

Me: {knows what is coming}

Jim: "I wasn't. But I was reaching over the cruets to put away silverware and the balsamic went over, and in saving the cruet--"

Me: "You got your sweater."

Jim: "Yeah. And ... the spoon rest."

Me: "Oh, whatever. It only cost $3. What's the sweater made of?"

Jim: "It's beige, and, um, ... cotton."

Me: "Stain-stick it and throw it in. You're cool."

Jim: "Woo."

Me: "Next spoon rest? Stainless steel."

Jim: "... Definitely."

*Maybe the vinegar broke first. I really can't recall.

**I'm not ascribing blame, here. I think I was involved in one of the incidents. I'm not really sure, because I don't remember being there, but it's definitely possible I witnessed or participated tangentially in at least one of these events.

turkey lurkey

So I just ordered my Thanksgiving turkey from Whole Foods. I realize -- having noted all the fresh and available turkeys still there the day before the holiday last year when I popped in for other supplies -- that pre-ordering was not absolutely necessary.

However, there are only five of us, so I really did not want to get stuck with an eighteen-pound turkey. Eight to ten pounds will be plenty, so that's what I set aside.

Even btter, though, is the promotion they are running to keep down crowds on Wednesday the 26th: Pick up your turkey between 10 and 11 p.m. on Tuesday the 25th, and get a free wheel of Brie.

{crickets}

OK, so you, personally, may not be excited. But let me repeat: Free. Wheel. Of. Brie.

Fine, you think, free cheese. Yes, milk and dairy prices have gone up in the past year or two, but really: Who cares that much about cheese?

And if you think that, you definitely have not spent enought time around me, and by "enough" I mean "any." Yes, I am likely to have fallen asleep already by ten in the evening, but I will wake myself up, get dressed, and drive to Whole Foods to pick up my turkey if it gets me free Brie!

I love cheese, and pretty much never turn down a double- or triple-crème. "Never look a gift cheese in the mold," I always say.* I don't currently plan any Thanksgiving dishes that would be enhanced by the addition of a very creamy cow's milk cheese, although if I put my mind to it I probably could come up with one. I'm sure it will be perfectly happy to find its way into the hors d'oeuvres, though, and the rest of it ... well, that can be my personal treat on Sunday night, when all is said and done, we've overdosed and leftovers, and I just don't want to think about cooking anything before the work week kicks in.

If it even makes it past the (four-minute) drive home, that is. Did I mention: free Brie?

Excuse me; I think the Manchego in the fridge is calling.

*I have never said this in my life, but now I kind of want to.

when the planet turns up the heat...

...get out of the kitchen.


Or at least, that would be the logical approach. And I am, usually, a logical human being. Most of the time. I think.

Not when it comes to dinner, though -- particularly if I have a craving for something. Granted, that "something" right now happens to be gazpacho*, which I think makes a lot of logical sense.


(Or it would, if tomatoes weren't suddenly carriers of salmonella. Thanks, tomatoes, for your perfect timing. Luckily, it seems that cluster (on the vine) tomatoes are safe, and so I can proceed with my gazpacho plan.)

Jim, meanwhile, has been asking me to make a frittata for quite some time. I'm getting used to these requests of his, even though I do every now and then wonder what ovophilic pod person has taken over my husband. Granted, this is mostly because, when I met him, he would turn tail and run from pretty much any egg dish, which was a shame as quiche was one of my specialities.

That must have converted him along the way, since now he seems to get these cravings every so often, particularly when the weather makes heavy meat dishes somewhat unappetizing. (He still is tentative in the face of most scrambles and your average runny-yolked poachee, but it's progress.)

Of course, making a frittata involves turning on the stove and either the oven or broiler, so it's not entirely weather-appropriate.
But it's close enough. So tonight, we shall have a wild mushroom and spinach frittata and gazpacho, satisfying two cravings with one...well, dinner.

Hm. Speaking of which, is it lunch time yet?


*This is a fairly common craving of mine. In fact, I feel as though I've actually blogged gazpacho before. The heat is just making me too lazy to check.