Oatmeal Corn Meal Bread, from The Book of Bread by Judith and Evan Jones
While composing the opening paragraph for a post about my favorite cookbooks I realized I had only two cookbooks that I really really loved, at least in my current collection, plus a handful of hardy go-to books, the recipes and advice of which result in many a speedy or satisfying meal, but don’t possess the material or artistry or style to bring them from 4-star (like it a lot) to 5-star (love it!) status.
The two books I own that I will happily curl up with to read and eagerly anticipate what recipe I shall try next are The Book of Bread by Judith and Evan Jones and White Chocolate by Janice Wald Henderson. It’s not just that I love kneading and shaping and baking and eating bread, or am delighted by the ivoryness, creaminess, and subtlety of white chocolate, but that these are the only two cookbooks I own about foods that I adore and through which I allow myself an occasional flight of fancy.
Read the rest of this entry »
January 17th, 2010 in
Banter,
Cookbooks |
No Comments
The weeklong "no-chicken-breast" challenge will soon begin!
A recent run-in with a pile of sawdust-dry chicken breast (thank you, Blue Shirt Café) has seriously maddened my chixbreastphiliac taste buds and they are rebelling — as are my teeth that had to chew, and my throat muscles that labored to swallow the tasteless mass — leaving me no choice but to ban the substance, at least for a week, so . . .
Chicken breast is dead to me (!) at least through Saturday, January 16. Most other parts of the chicken are welcome. Gary’s on board with this, too, and looks forward to a dinner of fine chicken thighs. And I’m planning meals around eggs and pork tenderloin.
It’s probably a very good thing, since chicken breast has dominated my diet for decades. It’s time to break loose and enjoy other meats and proteins for a little while. Wheeeee! I’m such a daredevil !!!!!!!!!
I know next to nothing about wine–how to sip it, how to describe it, nor why anyone would drink anything with “leathery undertones.” Still, I’ve decided to have a few sips of red wine (3 ounces or thereabouts) with my suppers for some far-out health reasons. But what the hell.
Here’s a running list of what I’ve sipped and what I thought about it. If I learn anything more about the stuff I’ll add some flowery descriptive prose to the entries.
Wines NWD would buy again
- 2008 Yellow Tail Shiraz (South Eastern Australia) ($7.99, Berman’s Wine & Spirits, Lexington, MA)
- 2008 La Vieille Ferme Côtes du Ventoux Rouge (Rhône Valley, France) ($7.99, Berman’s Wine & Spirits, Lexington, MA)
- 2007 Red Diamond Merlot (Washington State) ($10.99, Downtown Wine & Spirits, Somerville MA)
- …
Wines we’d drink but not necessarily buy again (except maybe for cooking)
- 2006 Ravens Wood Vintners Blend Merlot (California) ($10.99, Downtown Wine & Spirits, Somerville MA)
- 2003 Glen Ellen Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon (California) ($5.99, Berman’s Wine & Spirits, Lexington, MA)
- …
Never again . . .
January 5th, 2010 in
Drink,
wine | tags:
beverages,
Drink,
wine |
No Comments
The Art of Simple Food
What I mean by “relearn how to cook,” is learn and understand enough cooking and baking basics so I am no longer at the mercy of other people’s recipes. I want to be able to look in my fridge and kitchen cupboards and have some inkling how I can combine certain items to create a dish or a meal without consulting a cookbook or Googling anything.
The list of dishes I can create in the absence of guidance is limited and includes French toast, scrambled eggs, tuna salad, various stir-fries, basic baked fish or chicken, smoothies, and sauteed vegetables. There’s also a short list of self-created concoctions I make more often than other dishes, such as The Marcia Mash (mash together one can black beans, one ripe avocado, and one cup jarred salsa; serve with tortilla chips or just eat it straight) and Cauliflower Surprise (combine or cook together all or most of the following ingredients: Thai-flavored tofu, one small head caulifloer, one can chick peas, a handful of raisins, peanut sauce to taste, curry powder to taste [optional]).
Ironically, if I want to be able to cook without constant guidance, I’ll need some guidance. To that end, I’ve selected Alice Waters’s The Art of Simple Food as my cooking primer. I’ve already read the first few pages; it looks like the first issue I’ll address will be replacing many items already residing in my fridge and cupboards.
January 3rd, 2010 in
Uncategorized |
No Comments
In Defense of Food
Last month I embraced the key directives of ditching the Western diet as explained by Michael Pollan in his book In Defense of Food and embellished in Food Rules. It’s a simple mantra: Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants.
For starters I swore off Cool Whip, instant pudding, diet soda, and frozen dinners, threw away my desk-drawer stash of Slim-Fast bars, and vowed to cook more of my own foods and shun processed or manufactured foodstuffs (“edible foodlike substances” in Pollan’s terms) to the extent practical.
This month, this nonscientific experiment of mine will fully, if slowly, set in and hopefully take hold. This year I’ll learn if I will really have the time, energy, desire, or wherewithal to cook most of my meals, including bag breakfast and lunches, or if I’ll deem the endeavor impossible and give up within months. I’ll find out if I really will or can bake my own pita bread. I’ll discover how long I can last before succumbing to York Peppermint Patties or microwaveable popcorn. But most notably, hopefully, I’ll experience the joys and sorrows, rewards and frustrations, of making and eating real food.
I’ve still some to-be-banished items lurking in my kitchen cupboards and I haven’t decided if I’ll just toss any of it my husband isn’t interested in, or if I’ll slowly consume the items, deep-six them before long, or let the product’s expiration dates make the decision for me. Probably it’ll all be decided item by item. I face dilemmas such as: should I make hot cocoa from scratch (rather easy) and toss the rest of the Swiss Miss with Marshmallows even though I paid $2.79 for several packs of brown powder and crunchy white pellets?
The Swiss Miss with Marshmallows brings up another issue I hope to address this year: disturbingly excessive food packaging. One quick example of this: My box of Swiss Miss “Sensible Sweets” “Fat Free Marshmallow Lovers” eight-serving box actually came with 16 packets — eight packets of instant cocoa, eight packets of instant marshmallows. You’re supposed to add the marshmallows after you’ve mixed the instant cocoa with the water. I guess to keep the white pellets crunchy as long as possible? Anyway, now you’ve got two pouches for each six-ounce cup of cocoa.
I’m leaning towards tossing the remaining three (er, six) packets. The net cost: about $1.50. The benefits: a bit of modified whey, sugar, and corn starch I won’t be drinking, plus about 112 cubic inches of shelf space.
Za
Fresh and creative pizzas and salads
138 Massachusetts Avenue, Arlington, Mass.
www.zarestaurant.com
Za's specialty pizzas feature unexpected topping combos
My husband and I were eagerly anticipating a Valentine’s Day dinner of gourmet pizza. We’d kept our occasional pizza yearnings at bay for many months, but we had planned a February splurge, V-day being the perfect excuse (hey, pizza’s red, right?). We were saddened to hear one of our fave pizza parlors, DiMio’s of Cambridge, had closed. Hopefully, we thought, Za might be able to lessen the loss.
We had called ahead for a spot on their waiting list but got there early anyway, and so we sat on a side bench while we waited for our seats. I felt bad for the dining couple we were practically sitting on top of while we waited: breathing room was minimal in this corner of the restaurant. After waiting only 10 minutes or so, we were seated.
The Za waitstaff was helpful and friendly, despite the full house and tight quarters.
Although several of Za’s pizza concoctions were intriguing, with themes such as mac ‘n cheese, ham sandwich (with dill pickle slices!), and salmon fillet with fontina and capers, we veered toward the conservative: he with mozzarella and tomato with additional toppings of sausage, caramelized onion and portabella mushrooms, me with the specialty pizza of portabella mushrooms, roasted red peppers, caramelized onions, roasted garlic, and goat cheese ($10.50, if I remember correctly). Had we discussed or choices before ordering, I’m sure we’d have adjusted our overlapping selections.
The salad menu also lured us in with claims of farm-fresh vegetables, though our waiter did point out that in the dead of winter, the salad offerings are not as varied as they are in the spring and summer months. Again, I was interested in several of the salads, but went for the conservative iceberg lettuce, grated carrot, and blue cheese. Gary went for the slightly more seasonal greens, dried cranberries, and walnut mix. We both loved the mixtures and the freshness of our salads. I was distracted, though, by the description of a roasted sweet potato salad I noticed on their specials blackboard after I had already ordered. I wish I’d seen it earlier; I would have ordered it! The guy who seated us said the blue “specials” menus he handed us had the same specials that were listed on the chalkboard. He was wrong!
So, the salads were a success, and the iced tea — earl gray — was pleasantly fragrant, not too harsh. I enjoyed it without sweetener. Very refreshing.
The pizzas, however, were disappointing. Gary found little to sing about with his pizza, rating it merely “not bad.” I, too, had hoped for a little more zing from my ‘Za , but even the several dozen cloves of roasted garlic could not wake up this bland pizza. I did like that they were very generous with the portabella mushrooms–nice big chunks, not just slices–but was saddened that the roasted red peppers I was so looking forward to were barely noticeable. It was almost an afterthought: “Hey, where’s are my peppers? Oh, are those ten little pimentos my peppers?”
In a nutshell: Salads great, pizza just okay. But we will make a trip back later this year to sample their spring or summer menu. I swear I’ll order more adventurously next time, or at least make sure there’s one topping on my pizza I’ve never had on pizza before. But it probably won’t be a dill pickle.
February 17th, 2009 in
Restaurants | tags:
pizza,
salads |
No Comments
MFK Fisher’s How to Cook a Wolf offered wartime heads of household camaraderie, sage advice, and inspiration as they tried to make the most of scarce or restricted food, utilities, and peace of mind.
Today, some 66 years since its publication during World War II, Wolf still speaks to economizing cooks, as well as economizing eaters. Interspersed among Fisher’s instructions concerning material concerns, such as stocking pantry shelves for blackouts and using a heated oven for more than one dish, are snippets of her idea of satiety of both stomach and soul—when both are satisfied, she believes, no more food need be eaten at that time. I embrace Fisher’s practical take on the role of dessert:
“Probably one of the best ends to a supper is nothing at all. If the food has been simple, plentiful, and well prepared; if there has been time to eat it quietly, with a friend or two; if the wine or beer or water has been good: then, more often than not, most people will choose to leave it so, with perhaps a little cup of coffee for their soul’s sake.”
Though I rarely have a dessert with dinners at home, often a “nice dinner out” grows into a gorgefest including appetizer, entrée, and dessert. And I’m often full after the entrée. So I find Fisher’s words as challenging as they are inspiring; I’d be lucky to recall them before the next time I order the butterscotch banana tart with caramel, chocolate, and beaten cream after thoroughly enjoying a plate of seared sea scallops and an appetizer of romaine heart with blue cheese and bacon crumbles. (This tangent may be construed as an endorsement of Tryst restaurant in Arlington, Massachusetts.) Maybe I should jot her words on an index card to carry around with me.
Fisher believed that an expectation of dessert, especially among the kids in the household, springs from a disinterest in the same-old meal structure (meat, starch, vegetable) day after day after day, and it’s a conditioned, unenthusiastic expectation at best. (“Balance the day, not each meal in the day.”) Her solution is “to have such good food and such generous casseroles and bowls and platters of it, that there cannot be a conditioned appetite for more, after the real sensuous human one is satisfied.”
The notion that food that is sensually and quantitatively satisfying, be it to the eye, tongue, or tummy, could negate an ingrained want for more is laughable to those of us who purge our pantries of even the smallest quantities of our favorite foods, lest we eat every last morsel in a fit of desire or frenzy. But those pantry items—the Oreos, the shelled almonds, even the 100-calorie Balance bars—can rarely be filed under “sensuous” and if they were truly satisfying, one wouldn’t feel the need to eat every last one. In the best of all worlds, if a meal satisfies nutritionally, sensuously, and viscerally, we would eat toward fulfillment, not overfill.
When trying to watch what one eats, one could add a corollary to Fisher’s theory: To truly ascertain whether you’ve had enough to eat, take an internal assessment of what has been fed, as opposed to an external measurement of what’s to be eaten.
Fisher shares dozens of recipes, from simple Normandy Pheasant and Frittata of Zucchini, to last-resort “sludge” to keep one alive if resources hit rock bottom. And the spirited Fruits aux Sept Liqueurs, which calls for a few slices a fruit dropped into a bath of seven liqueurs, and fantastical Colonial Dessert, comprised entirely of thick cream, egg yolk, and sugar, aim to pleasure the imagination if not the palate. Concluded Fisher, “Since we must eat to live, we might as well do it with grace and gusto.”