Thursday, February 25, 2010

Holy Hell

This is how I feel today:


Yellow. Budding. Smiling. Thankful.

The past week has been agonizing, but everyone walked away unscathed, less an unfortunate receptionist who was harassed by my phone calls every hour to check on my results. I was able to let out a gigantic sigh of relief today and can now move on with my life.

All I've wanted the past week is comfort food -- oodles and oodles of noodles -- and scalding hot baths. I allowed myself as much of both as I could handle. My skin is still a little pruney.

I am including two recipes today, which I have never done before, but the response I got from Heather when I mentioned the first dish was far from overwhelmingly positive, so I am posting a second dish in the event that you find the first as repulsive as she did.

Let me assure you that it was fantastically delicious and super quick to throw together. I am almost certain, too, that you have all the ingredients in your fridge/pantry to make it RIGHT NOW. We all need meals like this that can be made in a pinch -- especially ones as beautiful and fun to eat as this pasta. Plus, it's like food's version of prozac -- uplifting and cheery.

The second dish is a noodle dish, too, and, not surprisingly, it's an Asian dish. My lovely mom was in town this week for a conference so we all crammed into my little space for some supper. Actually, we went downstairs to my 'lounge' and watched the Olympics. My building has a tv room complete with leather couches and armchairs, and since I don't own a television I have been posted up there, glued to the Olympics. Um, how rad is speed skating? I am going to shed a tear when it's over on Sunday. Sniff. Anyway, I hope you've all been well this past week.

Cheers to health.

I make a point to buy interesting pasta shapes.

Plain ol' salad greens.

Pasta salad?

If you require your food groups not to
touch this dish might not be for you.

Pasta with greens and an egg
pasta -- any small shape you like
1 cup salad greens
1 egg
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
salt and pepper

Cook pasta according to directions. Cook egg -- over-easy makes a lovely sauce -- to your liking. Place the cooked pasta on top of the greens followed by the egg, season with salt and pepper and garnish with parmesan cheese. Serve and eat immediately.

This might be my new favorite marinade:
sherry, soy sauce, sesame oil.


I could cut vegetables till the cows come home,
and considering that I don't have any cows . . .
a very long time.


I was so excited to eat I nearly forgot to take a photo.
It's a bit of an afterthought, a delicious afterthought, though.

Singapore Noodles
adapted from Good Mood Food
1 package rice vermicelli noodles (I couldn't find these, but would certainly recommend them)
1 lb chicken, sliced thinly
1 carrot, cut into matchsticks
2 celery sticks, cut into matchsticks,
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbs ginger, minced
3-4 green onions, thinly sliced
bean sprouts
cilantro, chopped
1 tbs curry powder
1 tbs canola oil
1 tsp sesame oil

marinade:
3 tbs soy sauce
2 tbs dry sherry
2 tbs sesame oil

Combine sliced chicken and marinade in a bowl. Let stand at least 20 minutes or 2 hours in the refrigerator.

Cook the noodles according to the directions and set aside. Meanwhile, heat the canola and sesame oil in a wok or large pan over medium high heat. Add the ginger and garlic, stirring frequently so as not to burn. Add the chicken, including the marinade, and cook through. Add the carrot, celery and green onions and stir fry until tender about 3-4 minutes. Add the curry powder (you could certainly add more -- 1 tbs is not a lot) and toss through for another 2 minutes or so. Add the noodles and bean sprouts to the pan. Toss everything together with tongs to combined. Garnish with more bean sprouts, chopped cilantro and sriracha.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

X marks the spot

I received some unsavory news last night that I am still trying to digest. The information gleaned is still very premature in nature, but it nonetheless resembled an enormous kick in the crotch. I am still trying to catch my breath.

I apologize for being ambiguous today, but I am trying to distract myself with, well, life. There is no point getting everyone worked up until I know something definitive. Who knows when that will be, but until then, classes must be attended, recipes must be posted, Olympics must be watched, and I must shop for a certain wee little sister's TWENTY-SECOND birthday :)

Maybe I'll win it big on the crap's table when we go to Jackpot on Friday, and I can upgrade this lemon body of mine for a new model. Cross your fingers.

Familiar cast of characters:
flour with s/p, egg, and panko, parmesan and parsley.


Remember those lovely orange guys?
Day two was equally as delicious as their first.

Another epic salad.

Panko and parmesan tilapia
x number of tilapia filets for your family
1/2 cup flour
1 egg with about 1 tsp water, scrambled
1/2 cup panko breadcrumbs
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
1 tbs Italian parsley, chopped
1 tsp salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Dredge fish in the flour first, dusting off any excess. Dunk the fish next in eggs and last in the breadcrumbs. Place on a baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes or until the fish reaches your desired doneness. Serve with lemon slices.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Cruciferous

If you've been reading lately, you know I've been on kick to eat more healthfully. There was a stint where my diet consisted of nothing but imitation cheese and beer, which certainly holds a dear place in my heart just not my waistline.

Now that I have my own place it's a little easier to control exactly what I eat. Not that Heather and Nick ate/eat poorly by any stretch; they just have things in their pantry that no amount of self control could ever restrain me from.

Case in point: Harper's Bread.

It is bread made from clouds . . . in Heaven . . . by angels -- light, fluffy, soft. It has no place in my house or I will soon become fluffy and soft.

After loading up with fruits and vegetables of all colors of the rainbow, creativity has been required to avoid boredom. I love to eat salads, but meal after meal they become nothing more than, well, cruciferous.

The following meal was an attempt to use every vegetable in the fridge -- successful attempt! My salad was both beautiful and delicious: tomatoes, sprouts, snap peas, cucumbers, peppers, carrots, green onions. The roasted sweet potatoes were, however, the star of the meal. The citrus and cumin complimented the sweet flesh of the potato so subtly. One word of caution, I reheated them the next day (they reappear in my next post) in the microwave and the cumin gave off a smell like they were on fire. They were not . . . but just don't be alarmed if you reheat these little disks of yumminess and smell burning.




Roasted sweet potatoes with cumin and lime
1 sweet potatoes, peeled and sliced into 1/2 inch disks
1 lime, reserving a slice
1/4 cup red onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tbs cilantro
1 t/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp salt and black pepper
1 tbs olive oil
*double this if you plan to serve more than two people*

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a bowl, combine the onion, garlic, cilantro, cumin, salt and pepper, olive oil and the juice of the lime (if the lime is puny use two). Toss the potato slices in the vinaigrette. Place the potatoes on a baking sheet and roast for about 20-25 minutes, flip them over midway. Squeeze the reserved lime over the hot potatoes and serve. You could also garnish with more chopped cilantro.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Pulling inspiration from thin air

First order of business, I need to wish the most altruistic, charismatic, classy, brilliant, loving woman I know, my MOM, a Happy, Happy Birthday! Wish I was there to give you a squeeze and eat sushi. Next weekend. I hope all of your birthday wishes come true, Mom. I love you very much. xoxo


Being that it is almost Valentine's Day, I am writing about love today. I have no profound musings for you here at Hail's Kitchen on the topic, as my love life revolves around a certain blonde named Berkley. I have a Shakespeare paper due (my first graduate paper, and I am quaking in my slippers). I chose Merchant of Venice that is full of themes of deception, revenge, greed, all of which are very doable and very conventional. As mentioned, I am writing about love, as there are myriad relationships, sexual innuendoes, and of course, the main idea of the play is that a debt must be paid with a pound of flesh -- Antonio's heart. What is more Valentine's-themed than literally paying a debt with your heart?

The theme of love in the play is much more complex and vexing, which is why I am posting here and not writing a Shakespeare paper. Perhaps I should reconsider an easier topic.

Here's the salmon with warm lentil salad I promised earlier in the week. This is an easy, relatively fast (cooking the lentils requires the most time) and delicious meal. I am craving color these days. Our weather has been gray, ashen and quite dingy. In contrast, my food has been bright and cheery -- both in appearance and in flavor. This salad made for great leftovers, too, as you'll see. This would be a lovely Valentine's meal for your sweetheart. Although, I am not sure lentils have any aphrodisiac powers :)

The dressing for the salad:
red onions, parsley, grainy mustard, red wine vinegar,
olive oil, salt and pepper.
This would have been GREAT on the fish, too.

Wild salmon. The gal at the counter swore it didn't
have color injected. Not sure I believe her.
Pretty, eh?

Easiest way to cook salmon: salt and pepper.
Hot pan with olive oil.
Sear. Lemon.

One pan for the asparagus, too. Am I lazy or resourceful?

Color.

Store the leftover lentils on their own and
then serve them over greens.
Quickest, healthiest lunch in town.

Salmon with warm lentil salad
adapted from cooking light
x number of salmon fillets for your family
1/2 cup red onion, diced
1/2 cup Italian parsley, chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1 cup green lentils
2 tbs red wine vinegar
2 tsps grainy mustard
2 tbs olive oil, plus 1 tsp for the salmon
salt and pepper
lettuce or your favorite salad greens
lemon, cut into wedges

Bring four cups of water to a boil. Add the lentils and 1 tsp salt. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until tender -- about 20-25 minutes. Be sure not to overcook or you'll have lentil soup. Drain and set aside.

Meanwhile, make the dressing. Combine the vinegar, mustard, onion, garlic, parsley, 2 tbs of olive oil, and 1/4 tsp salt and pepper.

Heat the remaining 1 tsp olive oil in a nonstick pan over medium high heat. Season the salmon with salt and pepper. Cook on each side about 4-5 minutes or until the salmon reaches your desired doneness. Add the lentils to the vinaigrette and toss with salad greens. Serve with the salmon and lemon wedges.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Future bag lady

My recent move helped me to unearth a file of recipes that I have been collecting (hoarding) over the years. I can't seem to part with the crinkled, barely readable pages, which is one reason why I am so thrilled to have this online source where I can easily and legibly refer to my favorite recipes.

However, I am taking an editing and transcription course this semester where we have been given the task of choosing an unpublished manuscript in the special collection section of the library -- a series of letters, a journal, club notes -- and then we will transcribe the text. The class has made me realize how handwritten notes and letters have become a lost art. In one hundred years, what will they be transcribing? Emails? Text messages? Facebook posts?

I get giddy every time I open another dusty folder (these files were often stored in someone's barn or attic). A few of my favorite collections include folklore about a man in Shoshone who had unpinned a rattlesnake from a pile of lava rock and the snake followed him home like a puppy to later protect him against a home burglary or the letter from Senator Dubois's daughter, Toussaint telling of Teddy Roosevelt being escorted out of a restaurant because of his drunk and unruly behavior. I will be transcribing a journal of a woman named Eliza Hart Spalding who was one of Idaho's first pioneers. Someday I'll tell you about the project I wanted to do. Sigh.

I am going to make a point to handwrite more letters and notes, and I am also never going to toss my growing collection of recipes adorned with my own scribbles and red wine stains and food splatters. Perhaps they'll give someone a laugh in a special collection one day.

The original recipe didn't call for onions --
they certainly gave this dish necessary texture and crunch.



The recipe also didn't call for lemon.
Give it a squeeze -- you'll be happy you did.

Polenta with tomato-braised beans
adapated from Cooking Light
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbs Italian parsley, chopped
1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes, undrained
1 15 oz can cannellini beans (great northern would work, too)
1 tbs olive oil
1/4 tsp salt and pepper
parmesan
lemon


Heat olive oil in a large saucepan with a lid over medium-high heat. Add parsley, onion and garlic; saute about 1 minute. Add tomatoes and cook about ten minutes or until the liquid has nearly evaporated. Meanwhile, prepare polenta. Add salt and pepper and drained beans to pan. Stir well and cover, reducing heat to simmer, and cook an additional ten minutes. Stir occasionally. Serve over the polenta with parmesan cheese and a squeeze of lemon juice.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Another good one for your bag of tricks

As you all know Sunday was the Super Bowl. I had planned on being a diligent student and only staying at the party for part of the game, but the game was actually worth watching. I stayed. I stayed and watched, and I stayed and ate. And I ate and ate and ate. Sweet Jesus. Apparently everyone got the Frank's memo because everything at the party was laced with Frank's Hot Sauce! All fun and games until the gastrointestinal Frank's nightmare on Monday.

I have to get this recipe posted and out of my memory bank, as the straight and narrow that I mentioned about a month ago is back on. My fridge is full of fruits and vegetables and the next couple posts (excluding this one) are healthier recipes. I feel like all I've posted lately has been imitation cheese and weird desserts. Not my normal bag.

None-the-less, this dip is (Dad, this is for you) the BEST DIP EVER. Really and honestly, this dip is fantastic. It's like a chicken wing without all the effort and mess. I could have eaten it with a spoon, but I was at a party with grownups and that behavior would have been frowned upon. Also, I boiled two chicken breasts to make my dip, but according to Frank, the hot sauce genius, you could use canned chicken in a pinch.

Stay tuned for polenta with tomato-braised beans and salmon with a warm lentil salad. I am sure I'll breakdown and devour an entire can of easy cheese in the meantime.

Buffalo es imperativo.

Two boiled chicken breasts looking very sad.

Diced teensy-like.


Bake and devour.

Frank's buffalo chicken dip
adapted from Frank's hot sauce
2 cooked chicken breasts, diced
1.5 cups Frank's buffalo hot sauce
1 package neufchate cream cheese
1/2 cup reduced fat sour cream
1 cup shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, combine chicken, cream cheese, sour cream, hot sauce, sour cream and mozzarella. Stir well. Place in an oven-safe baking dish and top with the parmesan cheese and a bit more of the mozzarella. Bake for 20-25 minutes or until bubbly. Serve with your favorite crackers or tortilla chips.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Those who can't bake, buy baked goods

Yesterday I attended a four-year-old's birthday party. I love this little person. He is charming and handsome and will grow up to be quite the man. Nonetheless, I volunteered to make cupcakes. I don't bake. I don't measure. My oven is used for roasting -- not baking cakes. As I mentioned, I really like this little guy and wanted to make him something special for his special day. His favorite colors happen to be pink and purple, which I think is rad.

For inspiration I headed to Bakarella's site. Bakarella is a baking goddess, hence the clever name. My site's namesake is a spinoff of Hell. Hmm, go figure.

Anyway . . . I tried to make her cake balls. You can find the recipe here. I tried to take step-by-step photos and then my hands became so covered in goo that my camera cowered in fear. This recipe has been added to my growing list of epic failures. The key, I discovered the hard way, is FREEZING the balls before you dip them. I will admit to making this recipe in haste, but why can't I squeeze in a bath, 150 pages of reading, my TA application, a few loads of laundry, and these cake balls before three o'clock on a Saturday? Unless you have a clone, it can't be done. I tried and FAILED. Epically.

However, I did return home after the party to find the frozen balls (that I nearly threw away in the midst of my temper tantrum) ready for their hot candy dip. I took a deep breath and tried again. My cake balls are nowhere near as cute or as uniform as Bakarella's, but they'll do. Next year, I know to start my cake balls the night before the birthday party.

This candy melt comes in all colors of the rainbow.
Michael's or Joanne's carries it.


The rainbow chip wasn't so colorful after the mash up.

Styrofoam is key. As well as your freezer.
As well as PATIENCE.

Ugh.

After their deep freeze.


If I can do it, you can do it.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

In with fresh air, out with frustration

Hail's Kitchen has evolved enormously in the year and half of its existence as a humble google domain. Not that this site has transformed into any great shakes -- not at all what I am suggesting. The site sprouted from this idea . . . this fun thing I wanted to do. Then I did it. Then once I did it, it became a chore so I stopped. Then I realized how much I enjoyed cooking and especially writing.

Now this silly little blogspot domain named Hail's Kitchen has become a vessel for my thoughts, my creative energies and maybe, just maybe, my future aspirations.

My point is, after a HELLACIOUS afternoon like I had today, all I want to do is come home, pour a glass of wine, upload some photos and engage my fingers and my brain in a little food blogage. A year and half ago that certainly would not have been the case. Cook and eat, definitely. Cook, eat and write, Hell no. It would have taken at least two glasses of wine.

The Cuban braised beef and peppers was delicious and highly aromatic. The rich, peppery smell of this dish greeted me when I walked in the first floor of my building. I live on the THIRD floor! I am always a little leery of cooking beef, or any protein for that matter, in a crock-pot for fear that it will come out resembling a hockey puck. This beef was so tender you could pull it apart with a spoon. This dish required no other pans, pots or utensils, less a knife and cutting board and the crock-pot.

Attention busy people who read this site: this dish was made for you!!! Served over rice with black beans on the side, garnished with sour cream, shredded cheese, cilantro, sliced avocado and tortillas = party in your mouth! This dish is super easy and fast and looks beautiful on a plate.

Heather, Nick and Berkley joined me for this feast. I wish they could join me for dinner every night. NPR just isn't the same dinner company.

High five!
(must be said with a Borat-inspired accent)

Berkley loves her some string cheese.

Notice my nice natural light? How I love you new apartment.



Easy peasey, Japanesey.

4, 6, 8 and 10 hour settings.
Thank you Crock-Pot.

The smell of peppers are permeating the computer screen.

Love her.

Cuban braised beef with peppers
adapted from Cooking Light
1.5 pounds flank steak or other "crock-pot" type beef
2 bell peppers, cut into 1/2 inch slices
1 large onion, cut into chunks
3 garlic cloves, sliced
1 28 oz can crushed tomatoes
2 tsps dried oregano
1 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp chili powder
1 tsp salt
1 tsp black pepper

Arrange the beef on the bottom of the slow cooker. Sprinkle the spices on top. Arrange the vegetables around the beef. Pour in the tomatoes. Stir to combine. Cook, covered, until the meat is tender and pulls apart easily, on high for 4 to 5 hours or on low for 7 to 8 hours.