Dinner before 10:00 p.m.

This is the first summer in several that I have planted a garden.  I like to think I have a green thumb, in fact, gardening is my genes.  Both of my great grandfathers were spectacular gardeners.  The Judge and my mom attempted their hand at 'farming' with our little acreage that proved to be such a labor of love it exhausted all of us. We all miss the farm.  Especially the Judge and his tractor.

One of my first projects after moving into our new house was planting a small, container garden.  Unfortunately, our growing season here is about two months.  The snow starts falling around October and melts about March, but then intermittently spits until May.  I optimistically waited until mid-June to plant, assuring myself we were beyond any late-season frosts.

One particularly chilly night, I contemplated covering my little friends in the backyard.  Damn intuition. I woke up the next morning to my windshield covered in frost, as well as my tender tomato, pepper, squash, watermelon and cucumber plants.  I could have cried.

For then next week or so, I ignored the pots in the backyard.  I couldn't stand to look at those sad, withered plants.  Feeling guilty, I started watering them again, trimmed back their frozen bits, talked sweet nothings to them.  Amazingly, they have started to sprout life.  They have even managed to produce!  I picked my first tomato and peas grown from my own efforts in years.

My poor little plants look a little wonky now, their tops lobbed off, the remnants of the freeze still lingering on a few leaves.  But hey, we're all a little wonky with our own freezer-burns.  I know I sure am -- and I am bearing fruit!  Sorry, couldn't help the analogy.

I have two days away from the Lodge, which makes me a little giddy.  I taught yoga this morning to my little group of local ladies, I have some domestic duties to tend to, and some rhubarb to bake. I may even take a nap.  I told you I was giddy.

There's still hope!

Maybe not so much for this guy.

Last night I actually made it home before the sun set.  It was so strange to be home at a reasonable hour that I didn't quite know what to do with myself.  What do most people do at night?  Eat dinner before 10:00.  The Great Samoan Hunter was equally as shocked when he came home to a prepared meal other than a bowl of cereal.

This is not a super original meal. In fact, it's probably a staple in your home.  However, I did get creative with my tortillas. I was hankering for a crispy shell.  My hankerings these days are really difficult to dispel.  I have nearly driven to town several times for a bean and cheese burrito from Fiesta Ole.  I. LOVE. THEM.  I was hungry for crispy shells and all I had on hand were soft wheat tortillas.   Here was my solution:

Baked them draped over the oven rack for about 10 minutes at 350 degrees. 

They came out looking like these perfect, hard taco shells!

Sauteed yellow onion, garlic and ground beef with a can of tomatoes,

cumin, oregano, chili powder and red pepper flakes.

Lovely little radishes.

I even had time to make some homemade pico. It really is wonderfully unique and refreshing salsa with 

the addition of diced cucumber and avocado.  You can find the recipe here.

Hates don't hate. This is the most spectacular topping for corn on the cob.  

Mix about 2 parts plain yogurt with 1 part crumbled feta.  Smear over your steaming hot corn.

Delicious! Makes a great topping for tacos, too.

Light, healthy, fresh and homemade!  I could get used to dinner before 10:00.

A number of you have asked (begged, pleaded, lovingly hounded) me for a photo of Baby M's progression in my belly.  Here she is 25 weeks, 6 days in all of her (my) glory.  

xo H and Baby M

Throwing a bone

I love blogs.  Over the years, I have obsessively followed a few to the point that I evolved from reader to stalker.  There is something incredibly unique about this medium.  Blogs are available to anyone who has something to say -- no need for a publisher or techie knowledge.  They trace your life.  It's remarkably fun to look back on what I was doing one year ago (making cauliflower soup, actually). 

My dear friend Ashley turned me onto a blog that provides this gentle reminder in various forms: be kind to yourself.  For someone who continually struggles with throwing herself a bone, this site rocks. 

So, guess what I did this week?  I threw a myself an enormous bone: I postponed my paper deadline and oral defense.

This decision did not come without lots of kicks and screams.  However, once I realized the benefits of finishing the semester with passing scores, restoring the health of my silly body, and completing a paper I will be proud of, I alleviated so much stress and anxiety that I think I grew two inches. 

I actually completed all of the reading for class last evening.  I participated like a human and not some drone who mimics the other warm-blooded creatures sitting next to her.  It was weird.

I struggle with this concept of balance -- humbling to admit you can't manage all of those spinning plates. By allowing one plate to slow down a bit, I can now pay attention to those that precariously held on through the mayhem.  Sorry if you were one of those plates.

I know I'll look back on this post one year from now (Master's degree and paper months behind me) and be glad I decided to be kind to myself.  Blogs are cool like that. 

Here's another bone for you to chew on: braised short ribs.  With cold weather upon us, this is the perfect meal to fill your home with delicious smells and your tummy with the flavors of fall.

Beef short ribs.

 Seared on all sides.

 See that?  That is flavor.

 Three carrots, three celery ribs, three cloves of garlic.

Red wine, beef broth, mushrooms, fresh thyme

(which didn't make the photo deadline).

 

Slow and low for three hours.

Fuzzy photo, fabulous meal.

Braised beef short ribs

1.5 lbs beef short ribs

3 carrots, chopped

3 celery ribs, chopped

3 cloves garlic, smashed

1 8 oz package mushrooms, whole

3 sprigs fresh thyme

1/2 bottle red wine

1 cup beef broth

olive oil

flour

salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 300 degrees.  In a large, dutch oven or other oven safe pot with a lid, heat about 1-2 tbs olive oil over medium-high heat. Meanwhile, dredge the short ribs in a handful of flour and about 1 tsp salt and pepper.  Brown the meat on all sides.  Remove short ribs and add the carrots, celery and garlic to the pot.  Saute for about 5 minutes.  Deglaze the pan with the broth and simmer for about 2 minutes, scrapping all the goodness off the bottom of the pan.  Return the ribs to the pan along with the mushrooms, wine and thyme.  Give it a good stir and tuck the ribs into the braising liquid.  Place the lid on the pot and place in the oven.  Cook for 2.5-3 hours when the meat falls of the bone.  Serve over mashed potatoes. Enjoy! 

Craving fall

Hello all!  Guess what?  It is WEDNESDAY!  I think all weeks should start on Tuesday.  Just saying.

I hope you and yours enjoyed the weekend.  The weather here couldn't have been better; however, fall is in the air.  In fact, the leaves on the river have a yellow twinge to them.  As soon as the temperature drops below fifty degrees my stomach starts to growl for cold weather food. While I should be enjoying the bounty of summer, all I wanted yesterday was roast beef.  

The grocery store had all sorts of fun root vegetables: turnips, parsnips, rhutabagas.  This is a fun dish to trick finicky eaters into eating foodstuffs they would normally shy away from.  Since I don't have kids I get to trick my roommates.  

This recipe will look familiar.

Roast beast.

Just another manic Monday

I have a strange confession: I enjoy Mondays.  Usually I return to the city on Monday mornings, always late and rushing like my hair's on fire.  This has been the routine all summer.  Now instead of heading to my job, I head straight to BALLET.

I still am one of the worst in the class.  Not THE worst but damn close.  If a good ballet dancer was one who stomped around awkwardly and waved her arms like she was shooing flies, then I would be the best ballet dancer on the planet.

My hour and thirty minute drive gives me time to listen to NPR, drink coffee and mentally prepare myself for being a bull in a china shop.  It also gives me time to dream about what I'll cook with my one night in the kitchen.

Yesterday I wanted something unfussy.  I wanted something we could enjoy on the patio.  I wanted something that did not require utensils.  I wanted grilled flank steak and veggies.

A brief diatribe: when I was in England in March we ate one of Jamie Oliver's restaurants called Fifteen.  This meal was without a doubt the most memorable dinner I have ever had.  In fact, I don't think I have posted pictures from that meal -- I will!  Nonetheless, they served the most wonderful green olives.  They were bright green, tender, not brined.  I felt bad because I devoured the entire bowl leaving my dinner mates to nibble on the seeds.  My mom let me know that they carry a close second at Fred Meyer and lucky for me, we have these divine little olives at my store, as well.  If you like olives you must try these. I think I enjoyed the appetizer last night more than the meal.

As summer wanes, make a meal like this one that requires very little prep time and clean up.  Call some friends, open a bottle of wine, and eat with your fingers.  Do it on a Monday, too.

Toasted bread with olive oil and sea salt, feta cheese and

green goodness.

Not the best shot, but you get the drift.  

I marinated the steak in something close to this.

Serve on a big plater and enjoy!

 

Dessert did require a spoon.  

Bring on the aliens

I am a chronic avoider -- dentist appointments, laundry, bills. I have a list sitting to my left of things I've needed to accomplish for weeks now. On this list includes a certain Shakespeare paper that has evaporated into oblivion. I am dreading completing this paper. I would rather go to the dentist and have my teeth drilled upon than finish this paper (those of you who know me well know that I would rather have my butt probed by aliens than go to the dentist. I LOATHE the dentist). Bring on the aliens.

Because I'm doing such a good job of avoiding said paper, I have accomplished a number of other items on my list -- I finally got my Idaho driver's license. I updated my car insurance. I also, by day's end, will have my car titled in Idaho, one step closer to my vehicle being registered in Idaho. It's exhausting moving states.

The most exciting thing I checked off of my list today: purchased my plane ticket to Ireland. The most brilliant part, my ticket came to almost exactly $1000. I'm pretty tickled with that number. Now I have more spending money for important things like drinking whiskey.

Below is the other half of the pasta feast from last week. This sauce was fantastic. Cooking the basil stems along with the tomatoes is a trick I will always remember. I purchased my beef from a butcher who scoffed at me when I asked if they have any local beef. He laughed, placed his hand under the grinder and said, "this here was a local cow." I suppose you can't get much fresher than that.

Lemon zest is rapidly becoming my favorite ingredient.

So simple: beef, salt, pepper, lemon zest,

chili flakes, garlic, cinnamon. (egg and parmesan)

Shallots, garlic, basil stems and chili flakes.

This smelled divine.

Smoosh up the tomatoes as they cook -- makes for a lovely sauce.

Best meatballs this side of the pond.

Thank you, Jaime.

Jaime Oliver's ragu of tiny meatballs

for the meatballs:

1 lb ground beef

3 cloves garlic, minced

zest from one lemon

1-2 red chilies, crushed

a pinch of cinnamon

1/2 tsp nutmeg (I omitted)

sea salt and black pepper

1 large egg

a handful of parmesan cheese, more for serving

for the sauce:

1 28 oz can whole tomatoes

3 cloves garlic, minced

a bunch of fresh basil, leaves removed and stalks reserved

1 fresh chili (I used dried chili flakes)

olive oil

a little swig of red wine

sea salt and black pepper

(I added more lemon zest because I can't make tomato sauce without it now, and I also added a chopped shallot).

In Jaime's words: To make your meatballs, mix and scrunch together all the the meatball ingredients in your hands and shape into marble-sized balls. When rolling the meatballs, run your hands under cold water every now and then -- it will help to make the meatballs dense and hold their shape better. Place them in a pan and put in the fridge while you make your tomato sauce.

Get a pan on the heat and add a glug of olive oil to it. Gently fry the garlic, basil stalks and chile flakes (shallot), then add the tomatoes and red wine. Season with salt and pepper then gently simmer for half and hour.

(I used the same pan for frying the meatballs and making the sauce. I fried my meatballs first and set them aside while I stewed my sauce, then added them in at the end per Jaime's instruction. One less pan to wash!)

Heat up a little olive in a frying pan and throw in your meatballs. Cook until they've got a really good color on them, then add them to your tomato sauce. Remove the chili from the sauce (if using a whole chili) and check for seasoning. Continue to simmer for ten to fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, cook pasta in a large pan of salted water. Cook for about two to three minutes and drain, reserving a little of the cooking water, then toss the pasta in the meatball sauce. Add a knob of butter, a handful of parmesan, and tear over half of the basil leaves. Now, toss around to coat the pasta. Add a little bit of cooking water to loosen the sauce if needed. When it's superb, serve on a big platter or divide up between individual plates, scatter with the rest of the basil leaves, grate over some parmesan and serve as soon as possible.

Oh come on. It'll be fun.

Every so often I am struck with an overwhelming desire to cook something more than poached eggs. Being that I write a blog about food I am sure you are thinking that urge must strike me fairly frequently. Yes, you are correct in that assumption. However, occasionally I am motivated to produce a meal of more than meager proportions -- the most recent Indian feast for example. That wasn't my typical Tuesday night supper. Nor is the following pasta feast, although I did manage to make it on a Thursday eve.

I had this similar ambition on Tuesday when I wanted to attempt baking bread again, but I was struck down with a migraine. Perhaps that was the universe reminding me that baking and I are on fragile grounds and not to push my luck. Okay, I can take a hint.

Pasta, though, I can comfortably tackle without raised blood pressure. I've been making pasta since I was kid. My mom had the brilliant idea one Christmas to give our family members and friends homemade pasta and sauce. Lovely idea, huh? Yes, until child advocates should have been summoned to rescue me and my sisters from the sweatshop my mother had created in her kitchen. You know what is kind of sick and quite ironic, I have recreated that same gift twice now as an adult torturing my fair share of unknowing participants just as my mom had once done to me. "Oh come on! It will be fun, and it's super fast." Six hours later, beet and spinach extracts dying every kitchen orifice and nerves severely frayed, always worth the effort.

I tell you that anecdote not to scare you away from making your own pasta, because it really is fun! And boy does it taste fabulous. The pasta is delicate and oddly, tastes like pasta, not like cardboard. I tell you that story so you know full well what you are getting yourself into -- a bit of mess, a bit of elbow exertion and lots of memorable moments, I assure you. Fresh pasta is one of my favorite guilty pleasures. It is such a treat, and I hope you take the time to make a batch with your kids, your spouse or your roommate.

Some lessons I've learned over the years: use smaller amounts of dough in the roller -- more manageable. Also, before you thread the pasta through the roller, make a clean cut so you have a straight edge -- it helps to alleviate wonky bends in your dough as it goes through the roller. Have patience! Some batches work out seamlessly, other batches require blood pressure medicine and mediation. You will never want to eat dried pasta again after you eat this fresh pasta. You'll become a pro and before you know it you'll be experimenting with flavored and shaped pastas and sending me your tricks!

I tried a new pasta recipe -- Jaime Oliver's. I usually use Giada's recipe, which calls for olive oil and creates a more luxurious pasta in my opinion. It was interesting to see the difference. This recipe was delicious, too, but I'll return to my standby next time. I also made Jaime's teensy meatball and sauce recipe, which I'll post soon.

If the weather is supposed to be as gloomy in your neck of the woods as it is forecasted in mine, making pasta would be an excellent inside weekend diversion. Otherwise, I hope the sun is shining, and you're planting tomatoes!

Most certainly not from a jar or a bag.

Instruments of torture.

Spaghetti or fettucini.

(Be sure you read that with a thick, Italian accent).

Eggs and flour in the food processor.

Pulse to form this breadcrumb-like consistency.

Knead it all together to form this ball of goodness.

Flatten the dough out a bit to allow it to fit through the rolling contraption.

Phase one.

Probably about phase five (there are six in total).

Phase six -- ready to be cut.

Fettucini.

Beauty.

Jaime's egg pasta

5 cups flour

6 whole eggs

Place eggs and flour in a food processor. Pulse until mixture forms a consistency that resembles breadcrumbs. Pour carefully on a floured surface. (I had to add a bit of water to make my dough stick together). Knead with the palm of your hand until the dough becomes smooth and elastic -- about ten minutes or so. You earn this dinner. Allow to rest in the fridge for thirty minutes before rolling.

Thread the dough through a pasta machine or roll out and cut to you desired width (you are a better man/woman for attempting the second venture. Pasta rollers are a good investment -- about $30 will last a lifetime if you care for it). Cover the unused dough in plastic wrap to avoid drying out. Cook the fresh pasta in boiling salted water for about three minutes. It will float to the surface when it is finished cooking.