Knit Think

Friday food

Let's talk about pork roasts. Many years ago, on a family driving trip to Mt. Rushmore, we kept seeing pork delivery trucks that had catchy sayings on the side. One I remember was "Time flies when you're having pork." It truly does--but for me, it drags when I'm cooking it. For some reason, my oven, which is pretty average, takes forever to cook pork. Who knows why? But dang, does it smell good.

So here's what we start with.

Oh...whoops! Sorry about that! There might have been some champagne consumed recently at Casa Knit Think. It has nothing to do with pork roast. But champagne is nice, don't you think? I like champagne. Very much.

Anyway, back to pork roast.

Oh, dear...sorry...I seem to have "click happy" fingers today. But isn't this nice? A gift from a friend this week. Very clever, yes? There's even some writerly text on the back. Very literary and all that. Thanks, blogless Paula!

Where was I? Oh yes--pork roast.

Oh hell. Who am I kidding.

People! This is a big week! A Very Big Week!

Last weekend, my brother called and asked if I knew my book was out. I said, why no, bro, it comes out June 2. And he said, um, no, I'm at Barnes & Noble at Ridgedale, and I'm looking right at it, there are 5 copies.

Holy cow! My book! Is out! Is published! For real! In paper and everything! With the photos I took! And the words I wrote!

And a typo on the acknowledgments page. Sigh.

But doesn't it look NICE??!?!?!

See, at my Barnes & Noble (Eden Prairie), it's on a big table by the front door! How cool is that! And yes, Kristi, right below it is the book about Glensheen we were talking about. See, Barnes & Noble has it!

And yes, I was indeed geeky enough to go to the bookstore with my camera and take a picture. In fact, I took two, after DH decided maybe the book should be displayed on two sides of the table:

We thought it looked very nice right under the book about Minnesota beer. It was still there the next day.

Why, yes, I did go visit my book more than once. And possibly I went to more than one bookstore.

So. There you have it! Just in time for Minnesota's sesquicentennial AND Mother's Day.

Anyway. Sorry, no Friday Food today. Next week, we'll talk pork.

Cheers! And Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there! Hey--I know a great idea for a gift...

Bloomin' art

Every year, the Minneapolis Institute of the Arts has a big spring deal called Art in Bloom. Florists come in, find a piece of artwork, get inspired, and create a floral piece based on that artwork. This is a nice concept, a welcome-to-spring, although it should be noted that visitors with spring allergies might want to up the dosage of Claritin before visiting.

Apparently a completely free hand is given to the floral designers. That seems fair and in keeping with the spirit of artistry.

I thought this was a thoughtful interpretation.

Storm, fire, war. Very intense.

And this is just lovely.

I love the colors, the shapes, everything about it. Very creative and inspired.

However.

Um. No. Just--no.

At my funeral, given a choice between the mummy and the flowers, please display the mummy.

And finally, there's this:

From a distance, looks like a reasonable reimagining. But wait--look closer--what's that in the flowers?

A Barbie doll. Because, yeah, nothing says "fine art" like Barbie. One has to wonder how the artist of the painting would feel about having their work reduced to Barbie in the bushes. And the plastic seashells.

Thank goodness it's not part of the permanent collection.

Friday food

I love sauerkraut.

I was thinking about sauerkraut earlier this week, when I posted the previous entry about The Teen's birthday. During the first trimester of my pregnancy with him, sauerkraut was my food craving. Many nights I came home from work, heated up a bowl of sauerkraut, and washed it down with a glass of skim milk. DH went along with it, fixing his own dinner and not commenting on my odd choice until one night I had my sauerkraut with a side of pickled pigs' feet. He left the table. No doubt wishing his wife would develop more stereotypical pregnancy cravings, like ice cream. Which, after the first trimester, I did; unfortunately, there was a Dairy Queen right around the corner from my workplace, and by the third trimester, my doctor sent me to Weight Watchers. Yes, there is a special Weight Watchers program for pregnant women. You have to have a doctor's order to sign up for it.

Anyway. I never got tired of sauerkraut. I think it's a lovely thing to eat. My favorite form of cabbage. So when Kate published a recipe earlier this year that had sauerkraut in the spotlight, I had to try it.

First, though, I made a trip to a place I've been longing to visit: Kramarczuk's. if you like sausage, any kind of sausage, this is your Nirvana. There were smoked sausages and lamb sausages and curry brats and beer sticks and chicken sausages and and and...you have to see it to believe it.

I came home with this:

Krakowska and sauerkraut.

Look at that sausage! It's huge!

A lovely garlic-filled sausage. Mmmmm.

Kate's recipe (here) is really easy. You brown onion and garlic, then brown the sausage. Remove the sausage, add sauerkraut, white wine, chicken stock, bay leaves, whole cloves, peppercorns, and juniper berries. Mix all together, put the sausages on top, cover, and simmer.

Voila!

Soooooooooo good. And plenty of sauerkraut to have for lunch. Without the skim milk this time.

Fifteen years ago today...

The day was sunny, the temperature in the 70s, the sky a bright blue. At least it was for the few minutes I went outdoors. I spent most of that day indoors. In labor. The nurses thought a walk would be good for me, so DH crept down the hallway with his grunting wife, and we went and stood on the hospital steps.

The theory that a beautiful day will distract you from what ails you is not entirely true. I lasted as long as it took for another contraction to start. That was enough nature for one day. I wanted my hospital bed, and I wanted drugs.

But it was a beautiful day after all, because it ended up giving me this:

My first born, The Teen, who is today even more teeny. Fifteen years! How did that happen??

And for all of you who have been whining and whinging about the wintry weather this weekend, let me just remind that you fourteen years ago today, we had a snowstorm:

Don't let it get to you, folks. And if the weather doesn't suit you, there are always ways to distract yourself. For example, eating cake.

In true maternal fashion, I can't believe these pictures are 15 and 14 years old. It makes me reflect on the journey of being a mother, which inevitably leads to worrying about all the mistakes I've made--especially with the oldest. Unlike knitting, there is no tinking or frogging. No re-do. I just have to hope that the things I've done right ultimately outweight the things I've screwed up.

I'm cautiously optimistic. He's a pretty good kid. Well--he's a teenager. But things could be far, far worse. He has a wicked sense of humor. I heard a story once about a mother who had trained her kids that instead of saying "please" when they wanted something, they would say to her, "you're thin and beautiful." When The Teen was around 10, I told him that story and suggested that would be a good way to get what he wanted. The next day he asked for something. "What do you say?" I asked. He thought for a moment, then completely straight-faced said, "You're not fat and ugly?"

It's a joy to watch him grow up and become a real person. There are so many moments I will never forget--regrettably, some of those include the horror of going to movie theaters to watch Pokemon movies ("Gotta catch 'em all, POKEMON!"). From cuddly toddler playing with his Thomas the Tank Engine train pieces to the cute schoolboy sounding out the words on his Pokemon cards to the preteen obsessed with Star Wars and pie to the death-metal loving Guitar Hero addict, every stage has been completely different.

And for that I'm very, very thankful on this chilly, windy Minnesota day. The weather can do whatever it likes on April 28. Because this day is special, no matter what.

Friday food

Many years ago, I used to work in downtown Minneapolis. Some compatriots and I (waves to blogless Don and blogless Heidi) used to meet for lunch at a unique place called Cafe Metro, which is sadly gone now. Cafe Metro had the distinction of having high-quality food at reasonable prices and quick service, making it a good alternative for a quick lunch. As I said, they are lamentably gone, but before they went, I bought the cookbook, which ended up buried under several other cookbooks on my shelf.

I unearthed it in an attempt to figure out what to do with these:

A Costco purchase. They just looked so good. And they were! Surprisingly flavorful for produce found in a Minnesota store this time of year. But in true Costco fashion, there were so many of them. How many BLTs can one eat?

Well. I can eat quite a few. But it's the principle of the thing.

For those of you who are wondering, why, yes--my doctor always tells me I should try and lose weight. I consider it their futile job to nag me. We should all have an unattainable goal. Keeps us alive and longing. How can a doctor quit being a doctor when they know I'm still out there, eating full-fat cheese, using real butter, and blowing through copious amounts of olive oil? Yes, olive oil is healthy--in moderation. I say, fie on moderation!

Anyway. Tomatoes were wastin', and I needed a quick recipe to feed the family one busy weeknight.

This is one of those interesting recipes that I usually make only in the summer, because it's very summery and warm-weathery--the tomatoes are not cooked in a pan. They're assembled with other ingredients, in this case basil, garlic, olive oil, and Brie cheese, and allowed to marinate for a few hours. By the way, the recipe calls for "chopping" the Brie. This is indeed an interesting task. I took it straight out of the fridge, and it did not "chop" well. I ended up ripping it into pieces and getting it all over my fingers. Not an unpleasant process, but not quite as simple as described.

Then pasta is cooked and poured immediately over this mixture and tossed, "cooking" the tomatoes.

Delicious. Easy. Great use of fantastic tomatoes. And really, how can you go wrong with anything that has Brie in it?

Cafe Metro's Linguini with Brie, Tomatoes, and Basil

1 pound tomatoes, chopped

8 ounces Brie, chopped

½ cup fresh basil, chopped

1¼ teaspoons garlic, minced

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon salt

¾ teaspoon pepper

1 pound linguini

2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped

1.       Combine the tomatoes, Brie, basil, garlic, olive oil, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Marinate at least 2 hours.

2.       Cook the pasta al dente, according to the instructions on the package. Drain.

3.       To serve, toss together the hot pasta and the tomato mixture. Garnish with chopped parsley. Serve immediately.

Bummer.

Not everyone loves spring.

Doggie Swap

I signed up for the Rescue Dog swap over on Ravelry--no, we did not exchange dogs. When Gracie the pampered princess woke me up by barking at 5 a.m. today, the thought of exchanging her was tempting. Instead I retaliated by taking her for a really long walk (for her) this morning. She's been too tired to bark ever since. Take that, spoiled dog. 

Anyway. My gifter was Eileen, and she spoiled me mightily:

A darling notepad, wool soak, a cute doggie card, a fun measuring tape to add ot my collection, a "dry" hand lotion, and Lorna's Laces in the Liberty colorway. There might have also been chocolate. Cadbury chocolate. A lot of Cadbury chocolate. If there had been, there isn't now. And also my very own teeny-tiny knitted sock, like all the cool knitters are making. It's displayed on the bulletin board in my office. Along with the chocolate--yeah, that's where the chocolate went. To the bulletin board in my office.

Thanks, Eileen!!!

Friday food

OK. So last week I threw a temper tantrum about a badly laid out cookbook. I heard from many of you who agreed. Cookbooks should be orderly and helpful, and they should not have attitude.

It's a good thing that some cookbook-type people understand that. This week, I give you a recipe from this new cookbook:

First, a disclosure: I used to work for Lynne. I would not have stopped working for Lynne, but my freelance work picked up considerably, and something had to give. I don't believe there's ever been a time in my life when giving notice at a job made me so sad. I have a huge amount of respect for Lynne (and Sally Swift, the co-author and producer of The Splendid Table), and besides, it was just plain fun. How could it not be fun, working around fun foodies and food? And I was lucky enough to be working while this book was being developed and written, which meant--sweeeettttt--recipe testing days! A whole lot of crappy sandwiches from home got tossed in the garbage when I had the choice of eating something made from this book.

And no, nobody from the Splendid Table asked me to promote this book. They don't even know I'm doing this. I'm kinda feisty that way.

Besides, look at this tidy recipe layout:

Up top, it tells how many servings, how long the prep and cooking will take, and the fact that it makes good leftovers. The ingredients are all listed together in the order they're used. Nice and efficient. Perfect for brains like mine. Whatever type of brain that is.

Anyway, the full recipe is here. This is a highly flavorful, zesty chicken dish that DH and I really can't get enough of when I make it. And it's so easy. Basically you combine soy sauce, garlic (yes, that says 10 large cloves--don't be a wimp! C'mon! Garlic is good for the soul, and it's even better for the chicken!), lots of black pepper and vinegar, tomatoes, bay leaves, and chicken thighs. You dump all this together in a bowl and marinate overnight.

That takes about 2 minutes to prep. Then the next day, you dump the whole bowlful of goodness into a pot on the stove and cook it until the chicken is done. Take the chicken out and start reducing the marinade.

Meanwhile, you start browning the chicken. Yes--after you cook it. Now, understand something--this chicken will spatter big time. Really big time. Stand back. Clear the area around the stove of anything you don't want hit by flying grease. Like, for example, your favorite potholder:

 

Or you can use one of those handy-dandy splatter screens.

It's worth the mess. Really. I promise. But don't say I didn't warn you.

Once the chicken's browned on one side, you flip it over and add sliced onions.

I love onions. As much as I love garlic. And together, it's a heavenly combination. I routinely add more garlic and onion than any recipe calls for. Except maybe this one; 10 large cloves is quite a lot. Not too much, mind you.

While the onions are cooking, the marinade in the pot is bubbling merrily and reducing and filling your kitchen with the most amazing scent ever. The vinegar is tart but not sour, and pretty soon, as my blogless friend Paula would say, you're getting the squirts big time.

Fortunately the cook time isn't long. You put your chicken and onions in a serving bowl and top with the reduced marinade:

Oh, boy. This is SO good. It does make excellent leftovers--if you have any left.

Who needs the Grand Dames Rombauer when one can have a friendly, easy recipe to follow instead?

National Poetry Month

A Light exists in Spring

Not present on the Year

At any other period –

When March is scarcely here

A Color stands abroad

On Solitary Fields

That Science cannot overtake

But Human Nature feels.

Some Rainbow – coming from the Fair!

Some Vision of the World Cashmere –

I confidently see!
Or else a Peacock’s purple Train

Feather by feather – on the plain

Fritters itself away!

___________________________________

So from the mould

Scarlet and Gold

Many a Bulb will rise –

Hidden away, cunningly,

From sagacious eyes.

Autumn – overlooked my Knitting –

Dyes – said He – have I –

Could disparage a Flamingo –

Show Me them – said I –

Delight is as the flight –

Or in the Ratio of it,

As the Schools would say –

The Rainbow’s way –

A Skein

Flung colored, after Rain,

Would suit as bright,

Except that flight

Were Aliment –

Shame is the shawl of Pink

In which we wrap the Soul

To keep it from infesting Eyes –

The elemental Veil

Which helpless Nature drops

When pushed upon a scene

Repugnant to her probity –

Shame is the tint divine.

Beauty – be not caused – It Is –

Chase it, and it ceases –

Chase it not, and it abides –

Beauty crowds me till I die

Beauty mercy have on me

But if I expire today

Let it be in sight of thee –

Friday food

But first, I have been remiss. An apology is due. Apparently yesterday, when I was busy yanking people's chains about the expected snowstorm, I greatly saddened JM by not including him, even though he's been known to--gasp!--swear at the snow! Even though we all know that I would NEVER engage in profanity, I agree with his fervent pleas to include him. He truly hates the snow. He's going to join the Peace Corps and go to Africa--no, really, he is, go read his blog--and the snow is driving him batty. So, RevMe, my deepest apologies. Feel free to swear at the snow anytime, and know that I will always smirk at you for doing so.

OK, then. Back on topic.

Recalcitrant.

That's how this book makes me feel:

This is the first cookbook I ever bought for myself, waaaaaaay back when. It immediately made me feel stupid. No. Stoooooopid. Because the recipes are laid out like this:

How lameass is that? Recipes are supposed to have all the ingredients listed above. Not scattered throughout the recipe. It's OK to have a few sentences before the ingredient list, explaining techniques or suggesting substitutions, but WTF? Mixing ingredients in with the instructions? C'mon. Those of us who do things BY THE BOOK have issues with this approach. I want my ingredients up front, so I can read them first. Don't lump it all together.

So when I was perusing my cookbook shelf and looking for something I hadn't cracked open in a while, I decided it was time to give Joy a try again. The above-mentioned Boeuf Bourguignonne (the name of which gave the Knit Think family much joy when trying to pronounce in our decidedly midwestern accents) seemed appropriate. I had stew meat in the freezer. I had red wine to marinate it in. I had shallots and peppercorns. So OK. Let's show this motha who's who.

The recipe recommends marinating the beef in red wine. So I did. Because I've done that before. Shit, it's easy and it's tasty. No sweat. The next day, I pulled the bowl of beef and wine out of the fridge and went back to the recipe. Then I hit the first obstacle.

See where it says, in bold font, thinly sliced blanched salt pork?

I had no salt pork. I don't even know what the hell that is. Somehow I never even noticed it in the ingredient list. Oh, wait--there is no ingredient list! That's why I didn't notice it!

Damn it.

Fortunately, the Grand Dames Rombauer provide a substitution: "You may substitute three tablespoons butter for the pork, but don't expect the same subtle flavor."

Guess they told me. A little attitude from my cookbook always makes me joyous, how about you?

Don't expect the same subtle flavor. Well. To hell with them. I will expect it.

So I melted my butter, a lot little extra for good measure. For extra subtle flavor. I sauteed the shallots, and worried, because the recipe suggests small onions BEFORE it mentions substituting shallots. Would that ruin my delicate flavor too? I was really getting myself in a state. But I had shallots, and I love shallots.

You know what my favorite shallot recipe is? It's in Martha Stewart's Entertaining book. You basically boil a bunch of shallots in a bunch of butter. Then salt them. See, good cooking isn't so hard.

The sauteed shallots. Sauteed in butter, not in salt pork. Thinly sliced blanched salt pork. Beef, browned in butter. But not salt pork. Beef, shallots, and the remaining wine marinade brought to a boil with water and poured over the beef and shallots, salt, peppercorns, bay leaf, and thyme. And placed in a low oven. For three hours. Without any salt pork.

But the Grand Dames have not totally bested me. At the very end of the recipe, which trails up onto the next column, they whisper something about adding sauteed mushrooms at the end of the cooking time. Ha, I say! I have mushrooms!

No f$%&ing salt pork, but mushrooms!

And egg noodles and parsley, to finish the whole thing off:

Bouef something or other. In a bowl. With mushrooms, shallots, parsley, and egg noodles. Very tasty indeed.

Although undoubtedly better with the subtle flavor of salt pork.