Thanksgiving Cookery

Well, it's been a while since anyone posted on this blog, so I thought I would put up a little something about my Thanksgiving cookery. I had the opportunity to do some cooking this year. I made gravy for Thanksgiving dinner, and I also made a pie the day before. Yay pie! I also made delicious turkey and dumplings the next day with a bunch of left-over turkey. This is doubly-good, because you know how hard it can be to use up turkey after Thanksgiving.

Peas, They're Not Just Good for Sports Injuries

Every few weeks Fnology gets injured during an indoor soccer game, especially when I drive. Perhaps I should stop driving. One of the best ways to ice a knee, ankle or foot injury is to use a frozen bag of petite peas, the bag will conform nicely around the injured area. After several uses, however, the thawing and refreezing creates one big ice block, which no longer conforms to the skin. If you continue to use the peas much longer they will become rather mushy when you cook them, its possible they might smell just slightly like foot, but I'm pretty sure this is all in your head.

We often therefore have a bag of peas in the freezer ready to cook if there aren't any other veggies around. Today was such a day. Also, I had a real hankering for Indian food, so we decided to try adding a little Indian spice to our peas for lunch. It came out well, a little spicy and lots of flavor. Here's what we came up with:



1 bag frozen Petite Peas
1 T Olive Oil
1 cup Diced Yellow Onion
4 T Spicy Curry Juice (if not available substitute spicy pepper flakes or other form of heat)
1 tsp Ground Cumin
1/2 tsp Garam Masala

Put enough water in pot to cover the amount of peas and bring to a boil at medium high. Throw in whole bag of frozen peas and wait till it comes to back to a boil. Turn down the heat to medium and continue to boil peas for 3-4 minutes. Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a pan and when hot add diced onions. Cook until translucent and add spicy curry juice, stir continuously. Drain peas and add to the pan with the onions. Add spices and stir for about 3 minutes. Turn heat down to warm until ready to serve.

Samson & Belilah

You'll feel like the strongest man in the world after a bowl of Balila:


I used to scoff at the notion of serving condiments with a soup (as is commonly done with the Vitenamese soup, pho). It's all getting mixed up anyway, so why not just mix it in beforehand? But Belila has made a condiment convert out of me. You top it with parsley, paprika, and "citrus explosion": a mixture of olive oil, lemon juice and raw garlic that reminds you that you are, in fact, alive. You want a little bit of that pure loveliness in each spoonful, not mashed into the bulk.

Another cool thing about Balila is that you get to use a can of garbanzo beans the size of a man's head:


I think the fact justifies itself. You can obtain such an abomination (the one on the left, that is) at any self-respecting Indian or Pakistani grocery.

Vegans, take heed: you can eat this. Everybody else, and also vegans, take heed: this is ridiculously easy to make.

Chunky Balila with Citrus Explosion
Adapted from the Washington Post, January 10, 2007
Serves 10-12.

- 9-10 large cloves garlic, finely minced or mashed in a garlic press
- 1 c. lemon juice (about 6 large lemons)
- 1 c. olive oil
- one 6-pound, 14 oz. can of chickpeas, with liquid (you could use seven 15.5 oz. cans... if you're weeeeaaaak!!)
- 1/2 tsp. turmeric (or 3/4 tsp. if omitting saffron)
- pinch saffron threads (optional)
- 1 tsp. ground cumin
- 1 tsp. ground coriander
- 1 bunch flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
- sweet paprika, for garnish

> Thoroughly combine garlic, lemon juice, and olive oil. It won't stay mixed, but that's okay. Store it in a lidded container.

> Put the chickpeas and their liquid in a large pot over medium-high heat and bring to a boil. Add the turmeric, saffron (if using), 1/2 tsp. cumin and 1/2 tsp. coriander and stir to combine. Turn down the heat to maintain a strong simmer and cook for about 30 minutes. When done cooking (there should be noticeably less liquid than before), turn off the heat and use a potato masher or the back of a ladle to crush about half of the chickpeas. The soup should be moderately thick and chunky. Add the remaining 1/2 tsp. cumin and 1/2 tsp. coriander, or to taste. Add salt if necessary (probably not).

> To serve, divide the soup among bowls. Add 1 to 2 tsp. of garlic-lemon dressing to each bowl (give it a quick stir first if it has separated), then top with a little bit of parsley and a pinch of paprika. Eat it while it's hot!

Pantaleon? C'est tres bon!

Did you celebrate the feast day of Saint Pantaleon yesterday?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Pantaleon

Zimm & I first learned of his existence in Venice. Already then I knew that he was "my" saint. Even though he is the patron of midwives, his attribute is a long-handled spatula, which has always endeared him to me. Take note, ladies and proselytizers: the way to my heart is through a spatula.


(Note: the juxtaposition of spatula and saint is not meant to disparage either the holy man or the utensil.)

Thanks to Davis for the tip. More substantive blog post to follow.

On The Sauce

Here's a pan sauce I've been working on: http://mysite.verizon.net/bosef1/rasputin%20sauce.pdf .

From the notes:

This sauce originates as a "what can I make with stuff in my kitchen" recipe. The name is taken from Grigori Rasputin’s reputed fondness Madeira wine. I’ve had the most success with Madeira in this recipe, but I encourage you try your favorite fortified wines. I prefer a fortified wine for this recipe as the natural sweetness of the wine provides a good balance to the savory and spicy elements.

My Boys

Internet, meet my boys.

I'm very proud of my boys. My boys mean the world to me. Here's my special boy:

He's a big boy. Who'sa big boy? YOU'sa big boy! Yes, that's right! Bend over, big boy!

Yesssssss... Ahem. The actual subjects of this blog entry, of course, are the literal fruits of our labors. As you can see, we grew several different varieties: the big guy is either a black krim or a cherokee purple (we can't tell the difference so good), and then you've got your jelly beans and your yellow pears struggling for dominance among the hoi polloi. Our greenhouse is indeed a madhouse. Except that we don't really have a greenhouse; I just wanted to lay down the old-school metrics, knowha'msay'n?

My rhyme scheme
Is like a trireme:
Gonna take you out to sea
And sink like in Civ III.
Now ya over ya head, chump -
Betta get out ya sump pump.
'Scuse me while I take a d___.

By the way, did I mention that my mom reads this blog? Hi mom!

'Er and 'Za

I knew this guy who liked to come up with abbreviated names for everything. It didn't matter how many or how few syllables the original word had - he would abbreviate it. For example, he would come barrelling into our room (this was freshman year) and say, "Dudes, I've got a major craving... for some 'za!" Of course, he meant "pizza." I'd give him this look, like... man, you can't just take the "piz" out of pizza! I need a percussive "p" sound at the beginning of the name, or it simply doesn't remind me of a piping-hot pepperoni pizza. If you had to have an abbreviation, though, I guess I would reluctantly admit that 'Za is better than Pee. Pass me another slice of Pee? No thanks, brah. I'll take the 'Za. (Pause for applause.)

Anyhoo, tonight we made pizza and beer, and in the interests of hypocrisy I abbreviated them in the subject line above. Fnology and our Illustrious Webmaster have been making many pizzas here of late, using our deadly pizza stone and fresh basil from our jung-- er, garden. I decided to take a different road tonight and make a stuffed pizza. It came out decently, as you may or may not see:

That's not a booger in the lower left; thanks for asking. The recipe was for an escarole-stuffed pizza, but I repeatedly failed to procure the primary ingredient. My first trip to Safeway ended in 3 lbs. of regular old green leaf lettuce: it was mislabeled, and I was ignorant. So, I did some internet research. Thank you, Ted Stevens and Al Gore, for this picture of escarole:

I returned to Safeway, armed with my newfound knowledge of this most-beloved member of the endive family. Then, as I stood before the vast array of greenery, I lost my nerve, and decided to ask the produce dude to SHOW me the 'ROLE. He showed me this:

That is known as chicory, as I discovered 5 minutes ago. Against my better judgment, I purchased it. Sigh. Luckily, it's closely related to escarole, so basically it worked fine, and basically I've been wasting your time with this story. I'm just sick of reminding myself what escarole looks like. NEVER AGAIN.

This recipe comes from Gourmet magazine, but you don't need to drive a Lexus or have sex on your private submarine in order to make it. You do need some kind of a round, straight-edged pan. A 9-inch cake pan would be perfect, but we used a 10-inch springform pan and it was fine. Without further Adu (are you Freddy for this?):

~~~~~

Chicory-Stuffed Pizza
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine, Feb. 2007
Serves 4.

- 3 lb. chicory or escarole (about 3 heads), washed and sliced somewhat thinly, stem-ends discarded
- 1 lb. pizza dough, close to room temperature
- some flour, for handling pizza dough
- 6 tbs. olive oil
- 7 or 8 cloves of garlic, minced or pressed
- 1/2 lb Fontina cheese, coarsely grated (2 cups). You could use mozzarella, too.
- Salt N Peppa

> Put your oven rack in the lowest position and preheat the oven to 500.

> Boil some water in a large (at least 6-quart) pot. Drop the chopped chicory in and push it down into the water. Let it cook, uncovered, until tender but toothsome, about 5 minutes. Drain in a colander and run some cold water over it to stop the cooking. Press to remove excess water. You can dab it with a paper towel if it's really sodden.

> Lightly oil the cake pan. Cut off 1/3 of the dough (put some plastic wrap over the rest). Use some flour on your hands and the cutting surface if the dough is really tacky. Pat the dough into the cake pan, covering the bottom. You don't need to cram it all the way into the edges. Brush it with 1 tbsp. oil and prick all over with a fork. Bake until golden, about 8 minutes. WARNING - if the lowest rack position in your oven is really close to the heating element, it's really easy to scorch the bottom of the crust. Just watch it carefully.

> Meanwhile, heat 1/4 cup oil in a large skillet over medium high heat until it's hot but not smoking (like your girlfriend). Saute the garlic, stirring constantly, for 20-30 seconds, or until it just starts to change color. Add the chicory, salt and pepper to taste (about 1/4 tsp. of each), and saute until you feel like stopping, about 3 minutes. Transfer it to a bowl, let it cool for a few minutes, and then add the cheese

> Spread the chicory filling over the crust in the pan, leaving a 1/4-inch border around the edge. Roll out the remaining dough into a 10-inch round - again, use some flour if it sticks. Transfer it to the pan, covering filling and tucking the edge under the bottom crust. Press the edges to seal. Brush the top with the remaining tbsp. of oil and bake until golden brown, 15 to 20 minutes. If you overcooked your bottom crust, like we did, then you might want to put some oven-safe implement (I used an oversize pie pan) underneath the pizza, to shield it from the direct heat. We did this, and it came out fine.

> Run a sharp thin knife around the edge of the pan. If you're using a cake pan, invert it and carefully dump the pizza onto a rack or cutting board, then turn it right side up; if you're using a springform pan, pop it open, slide your knife between the underside of the pan and the pizza, and slide it onto a rack or cutting board. Let cool 15 minutes before serving.

~~~~~

There you have it. It wasn't hard to make, and it was pretty good, although it doesn't hold a candle to the white pizza from the Italian Store. Mmm. Next time I make pizza, that's what I'm gonna shoot for. Meanwhile, I'm going to make a habit of inserting one snarky remark per recipe. Did you notice it?

So, the beer... it's not done yet. We'll add the yeast in the morning, and write it up later.

I'll show you how!

This is the inaugural post of a new collaborative food blog. While outsiders may find it interesting, the primary purpose is to track our recipes as we make them and help us put together the menu for the annual Big Meal.