Knit Think

The Iron Chefettes: CSA Edition, Episode 2

"Toast."
"Doomed."

Those were Miss T's and her Master Engineer's proclamations about my prospects in Episode 1. Well. I took that as a challenge. I would show them. I have pride, after all.

And you know what they say about pride going before a fall.

This was a tough week, full of highs and lows. The ingredients were fine: leaf lettuce, spinach, kohlrabi, baby beets, strawberries, garlic scapes, and cucumber. Let's go with the easy ones first.

   

Fresh cucumber. So delightful that I really did nothing with it. I sliced some to put on a tuna sandwich (made with this wonderful homemade tartar sauce--I used sour cornichons, oh my, so good) and ate the rest raw, just sliced. They were that good. But I felt a tingling of doubt. This is supposed to be a cooking show-off series. And I didn't cook, I just sliced and ate.

That train of thought also caused some discomfort when I used the lettuce for--what else?--salad. With spinach.

 

A strawberry spinach salad, with lettuce and chopped pecans, and a vinaigrette made with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, chopped green garlic, pinch of salt, and dash of honey, the recipe from the CSA newsletter. Quite tasty. So I decided to try another salad, this one from Deborah Madison's The Greens Cookbook.

 

The original recipe calls for butter lettuce, spinach, avocado, and ruby grapefruit tossed with a vinaigrette using fruit vinegar, olive oil, diced shallot, chopped mint, chives, and black pepper. I used leaf lettuce rather than the butter lettuce, and lemon vinegar. All of which would be fine, if I lived wherever it is that Deborah Madison lives, because apparently she lives someplace where lettuce and grapefruit are in season at the same time. That is not the case in Minnesota. The lettuce and spinach were fine--the grapefruit was awful. Bitter. Nasty. And having tossed them together, I managed to get nasty grapefruit juice all over the salad. Blech.

To recover my wounded pride, I used some of the extra strawberries with rhubarb and made a pie.

 

Although delicious, this did not strike me as significantly creative, especially given that I used store-bought pie crust. Remember--I don't like to bake, and I particularly don't like to bake things that require rolling pins.

Then I began to fret that my originality was going to be an issue. After all, is this:

 

An omelet with spinach and green garlic very much different from the scrambled eggs with spinach and green garlic that I made last time? Which raised all kinds of issues--if it's delightfully yummy to mix eggs, spinach, and green garlic, is it OK if I repeat it? I mean, green garlic has a short season. Do I have to do something new with it if the old way is so good?

You can see how the angst was building. Especially since the highlight of the first few days was this:

 

If you think that picture looks familiar, you'd be right. I stole it right off Miss T's blog from her first round of Iron Chefettes. A salad with oranges, pecans, and smoked trout. Delicious.

But not creative, at least not for me.

Oh, the pressure, the pressure was building...

I decided to use my kohlrabi in a coleslaw.

 

I mixed it with some broccoli slaw from the store. Tasty. I felt a little better. So I tried this:

 

Portobello mushrooms stuffed with spinach and goat cheese. Pretty good, although I think I'd use a different cheese next time. Maybe a good ricotta.

But it made me feel better. So I got really brave and tried another recipe from the CSA newsletter:

 

Soft corn tacos with garlicky greens. I used kohlrabi leaves, beet greens and spinach, sauteed with green garlic and onions. (No, the kids weren't particularly interested in this.) I thought it was good, but could have used some protein, not necessarily animal--maybe some tofu or beans. Or shrimp. Or chicken. I would make it again, with protein.

Feeling more confident, I tackled what I considered to be the most problematic ingredient: beets. I have never been a fan of beets, but I can't help feeling that it's because I just haven't found the right way to cook them yet. Then I discovered this recipe:

 

Chocolate beet cake! Perfect, right? Well, sort of. Remember--I don't like to bake. It's such a precise form of cooking. And it wasn't until I'd cooked and pureed the beets that I realized I didn't have nearly as much as the recipe calls for; instead of 3 cups, I barely had 1. I noticed that the recipe didn't call for sugar, presumably because the beets would handle the sweetness. Oh, the agony of trying to figure out what to do. But having pureed the beets and melted the unsweetened chocolate, I had no choice but to carry on. I made a wild guess that 1 1/2 cups sugar would make up for the lack of beets, but after the cake was in the oven, I began to worry that it wouldn't be moist enough.

Baking sucks.

It turned out OK. Sweet, but not overly. It had a very dense texture, like a rich brownie, maybe because it needed more liquid. But it tasted fine, and I would try it again, with the proper amount of beets.

Finally, an ingredient I wasn't worried about: garlic scapes. (Miss T. talks about what a garlic scape is here.) I've used these before, and given that I'm so fond of garlic, it's a no-brainer that I'd like them. I decided to branch out from eggs and stir-fries, and tried this recipe:

It sounded innocent enough. Caramelize some dark brown sugar, add the scapes and cook, then add chopped tomatoes and wine and cook some more. Easy-peasy, and attractive, right?

Well, it was attractive, until it appeared on the dinner table to a considerable silence. Finally DH picked up one tendril and launched into a story he'd read on the internet about some woman who'd wanted to lose weight, so she deliberately ingested a tapeworm, which did help her lose weight, but then it laid eggs, which eventually killed her.

You can imagine how the interest level for eating garlic scapes declined at that point.

And to boot, the dish didn't taste great at all. I'm still not sure why--the ingredients seemed like they would work well together. Maybe it was the power of suggestion--I can't imagine that tapeworms taste very good. 

So that was my box this time. Even if I don't win for cooking, can't I get points for the sheer drama?

RIP

I know. It's been a bad week or so in terms of the dearly departed. But I have one to add to the list.

Fare thee well...

 

Juno Regina.

 

Thou hast gone to the great rewrapped ball of yarn in the stash.

Not for long. The reason for ripping turned out to be the Kollage square needles. I think for me, the wrong needles for this project. Addi Turbo Lace would be better. Pointier needles. And with a far better join; I'm a very tight knitter, and found it problematic to shove the stitches over the cable join, to the point where the yarn was beginning to pill. So, off the needles. But I like the pattern and will return to it.

In other news, Miss T. and I have decided to postpone the second episode of Iron Chefettes until next Monday. We figure y'all will be out hootin' and hollerin' for the holiday weekend (in the U.S., anyway) rather than sitting in front of your computers. As well you should.

Happy Fourth of July! 

Friday food

There's been a lot of food in the past week, and next Friday is the second episode of Iron Chefettes: CSA Edition. So no fresh-cooked food this week. I will, however, leave you with my latest reading acquisition:

 

Bacon: A Love Story. A historical overview, sociological study, and cookbook, this slim tome has as its first chapter "On the Eighth Day, God Created Bacon" and later includes a study of the bacon blogosphere.

I think I'm in love.

Let there be knitting!

Really, there has been knitting. Most of it has been for a Christmas gift that I can't show here. But there's still been a little progress on a couple of other items.

 

Monkey, in my Nefarious Xenia Onatopp yarn. I'm very happy with it so far.

Poor little Juno Regina suffers from needing my undivided attention, and since I mostly knit in front of the TV, she's not progressing terribly quickly. But there has been a little progress.

 

And now I have this tempting me to abandon all others:

 

This month's Nefarious: the Other Mother from Coraline.

It just keeps getting better and better.

Even more food

Really, I have been knitting, but the latest project is--gasp!--a Christmas present (!) for someone who reads this blog, so no photos. In the meantime, remember my post about Modern Spice? Well, today the author of that book, Monica Bhide, is having a virtual dinner party. She invited bloggers all over the place to cook one of the dishes from the book and "serve" it all today. So courtesy of Monica, enjoy:

 

Brussels Sprouts, Leeks, and Curry Leaves

I knew I had to try this after I read Monica’s header about trying Brussels sprouts just to find out why people don’t like them. I grew up hating them and it’s only been in recent years, when I learned to roast rather than boil them, that I’ve become fond of them. (Much to my husband’s joy, since he loves them and hardly ever got them before I figured out the roasting secret.) Braised with leeks and seasonings sounded intriguing. It was an easy dish to make, smelled delightful while cooking, and the taste? Oh, my. I guess I now have two methods of cooking Brussels sprouts that I can fully endorse. My husband thanks you, Monica.

 

from Modern Spice by Monica Bhide, © 2009

Serves 4

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 teaspoon black mustard seeds

Pinch of asafetida

10-15 fresh curry leaves

2 whole dried red chiles, broken

15 Brussels sprouts, trimmed and chopped (about 1 pound)

2 medium leeks, white and green parts only, chopped

3 tablespoons chopped dry-roasted peanuts

½ teaspoon ground turmeric

½ teaspoon red chile powder or red chile flakes

1 teaspoon ground coriander

¼ teaspoon table salt to start

1.       Heat the vegetable oil in a large lidded skillet over medium heat. When the oil shimmers, add the mustard seeds. When the seeds begin to sizzle, add the asafetida, curry leaves, dried chiles, Brussels sprouts, and leeks.

2.       Sauté for 5-6 minutes on medium heat, until the vegetables begin to brown.

3.       Add the peanuts, turmeric, red chile powder, coriander, and salt. Mix well. Cook for another 2 minutes.

4.       Add about a tablespoon of water, cover, and reduce the heat to low. Cook for 10-12 minutes, until the vegetables are tender and completely cooked through. Serve immediately.

 

Friday food--The Iron Chefettes: CSA Edition

I know Miss T. is far more creative in her kitchen than I am in my safe, follow-the-recipe-exactly-as-written cooking space. But I have something for today's Iron Chefettes that I bet she does not:

 

I have the Chairman. Take that, Miss T.

This week's challenge primarily involved greens, being so early in the season. And that's quite fine with me--I do love me some greens. Particularly of the salad variety. Because I love salad, especially when I'm dealing with such amazing greens as these were.

 

Sometimes I just ate the salad mix; sometimes I added more spinach and some sliced radishes; sometimes I added some diced baby onions; but I always used the same dressing. I just mixed together some good-quality extra virgin olive oil, wine vinegar (mostly red, but sometimes white), a bit of salt and pepper. That's it. But really--with greens this good, it only needs the simplest of dressings.

Speaking of radishes, they seem to have been brought to me by the letter S, for everything I did with them was very S-y. Salad, above; Snack, with Salt:

 

Sandwich, also with Salt:

 

There weren't just greens in the usual sense, but some green herbs, including my favorite, cilantro. I used it to make cilantro chutney, the recipe included with our box, with rice vinegar, some of the baby spring onions also in the box, garlic, and unsalted, raw pumpkins seeds.

 

The chutney was delightful on top of grilled chicken:

 

(More on the rest of that plate later.) The chutney was also quite divine stirred into canned black beans with a bit of salsa:

 

Served over scrambled eggs, and once mixed with brown rice. I love black beans with cilantro even more than I love cilantro itself, and that's saying a lot.

Then there was mint. I know one can cook with it, but this week I opted to drink with it.

 

Deb's Vodkitos. That, I thought, was quite a good use of mint. As was this:

 

The Splendid Table's weekly newsletter a week or so ago had a recipe for a Citrus-Mint Cooler. It was large-scale, and I didn't really need to make enough for 14-16 people. But the maths were awful darn complicated to break the recipe down that far, so I just improvised: I squeezed a lemon and a lime and mixed the juice with OJ, ice, and mint sprigs. Tasty.

And yes, at the appropriate hour, I tried it with a little vodka. Also tasty.

I mentioned above using spinach in salads. I also used it in this:

 

Why, yes--more scrambled eggs. This time with spinach and baby onions. And it was HEAVENLY.

But that's not all:

 

I made Fettuccine and Saffron Butter with Spinach and Roasted Peppers, from Deborah Madison's book The Greens Cookbook. Oh. My. God. It. Was. So. Good. I should have stirred it better, so you could see that I did use a lot of spinach--but by the point it was done, I was in a considerable hurry to *eat* it.

But it keeps getting better. Remember that plate of chicken with cilantro chutney above? That also had another highlight of the week:

 

Parky's Southern Braised Kale with Sweet Potatoes (recipe below). See, here's the thing--DH was perhaps a bit less excited about all these greens than I was. So I went scouting for someting to feed him that would incorporate the kale, but give him a choice. It's not really the season for sweet potatoes--or in this case, yams--but so what? It did the trick. And boy, does kale taste good when braised with yams and bell pepper and tomatoes and balsamic vinegar. A meal fit for a king (and queen)(and Chairman) indeed.

The only thing that (technically) didn't get used was this:

 

Behold the little Italian parsley plant, which found a new home near my potted tomato plants. In just a week, it's already doubled the amount of leaves on it, thanks to plenty of rain and sun. Soon I will be using it.

Well...I may not have won this round of Iron Chefettes, but you know, it's been a privilege trying.

Or some crap like that.

Parky’s Southern Braised Kale with Sweet Potatoes

From Passionate Vegetarian by Crescent Dragonwagon

Reprinted with permission of the author

Serves 4

3 large sweet potatoes, scrubbed

1 tablespoon mild vegetable oil, such as corn, canola, or peanut

1 red bell pepper, diced

½ onion, diced

1-2 jalapeno peppers, minced (seeds and membranes removed for mildness or left in for extra heat)

2 pounds kale, washed, tough ribs removed, leaves stacked and coarsely chopped (you may substitute any hearty green or combination of greens)

1/3 cup vegetable stock

1 orange

1-2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

2 medium tomatoes, chopped

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat. Add the sweet potatoes, lower the heat, and simmer until just tender, about 25 minutes (alternatively, you may pressure-cook them for 6 minutes). When the potatoes are done, rinse under cold running water, peel them, and cut into thick slices.

Heat the oil in nonstick Dutch oven or very deep skillet, or one that has been sprayed with cooking spray, over medium-high heat. Add the red bell pepper, onion, and jalapeno. Saute for 5 minutes.

Add the kale. It will begin to wilt and grow more intensely green immediately. Top with the sliced sweet potato. Pour the stock over the dish, cover, and braise until the kale is cooked but still bright green, 4-5 minutes.

Grate the rind of the orange; squeeze its juice into a cup. When the kale is done, uncover and add about 1 teaspoon of the grated rind, about 3 tablespoons of the juice, 1 tablespoon of the vinegar, the tomatoes, and salt and pepper. Taste and, if necessary, adjust with extra orange zest and juice, vinegar, and salt and pepper. Serve hot.

Game on, Miss T.

Two knitters who love to cook.

Equal CSA shares picked up at the farmers market, one box each, same contents each box.

 

Stay tuned--coming up this Friday in a Very Special Episode (first of several this summer) of:

The Iron Chefettes--CSA Edition

Let the games begin.

Friday food

Wow--there are a lot of people who are passionate about Indian cuisine out there! Sadly, I only had one book to give away. The contestants have all entered, and the holy Random Number Generator has spoken: Blog-Free Paula, come on down! You are the winner of the signed copy of Modern Spice!

Let's have a toast to Indian food and to Paula, shall we?

Friday food

Today's Friday Food comes with a value-added component. You'll just have to read on to find out what it is.

Remember when I took my first baby steps into Indian cooking? Well, I'm getting closer and closer to advancing from baby steps into, I dunno, Olympic gymnastics. Or at least walking without falling over. Almost ready to ride a bicycle.

Wow, there are just endless ways to run that metaphor into the ground.

Anyway. There's a lovely lady out on the east coast by the name of Monica Bhide. Monica and I have both belonged to the same freelance writer's online forum for years. As I've gotten to know her, I find she completely annoys me. She's pretty, smart, a great writer, passionate foodie--and she's *nice.* Fer cryin' out loud, Monica, get a flaw, would you? Geez. Well. As far as I know, she doesn't knit, so I guess she does have a flaw after all.

Another thing about Monica: she recently published this cookbook.

 

Monica was kind enough to send me two copies (yes, two, and if lightbulbs are going on in your head as to what the added-value component of this post is, you're probably on the right track) of this wonderful book. It's not just recipes--although of course there are lots of tasty and tempting possibilities--but it's also full of essays and anecdotes, stories about food Monica's tried on her international travels, the history of alcoholic drinks in India, teaching her young son the language of Hindi, and the universal role of food as comfort.

Well! Obviously there was nothing for it but to try a recipe, asap.

 

I decided to make The Legendary Chicken 65. (By the way, did you notice how artistically I arranged my ingredients, in honor of Monica's book? Pretty spiffy, yes? Also once again proving I am completely lacking in any presentation skills, but at least I tried.) Besides sounding really yummy, Chicken 65 comes with its own legend, or several. Monica found many explanations for the name: the chicken used is 65 days old; it uses 65 spices; the chef who created it was 65 years old; it was first served at a truckers' stop near the 65th milestone outside Hyderabad. I just love those kinds of stories.

 

Plus it gave me an excuse to pull this bad boy out of storage. I know it may appear otherwise, but we don't live on fried foods here, so I don't get to use the deep fryer all that often.

I wasn't sure what exactly to serve with Chicken 65. Rice? Veggies? So I asked Monica. Here was her response:

 

Chicken 65 is bar food. Like buffalo wings. Another reason to feel happy about this whole endeavor.

It's a very simple, quick recipe. You mix together some plain yogurt, cornstarch, ginger-garlic paste, red chile flakes, fresh lemon juice, salt--and red food coloring. Yup. Red food coloring. Which in the white yogurt, turns pink. Then you add a bunch of chicken tenders.

At this point, the menfolk were quite dubious. "It's PINK!" they cried in horror.

 

"Hush," I told them gently and lovingly. Well...or maybe I growled at them to not be so frakkin' judgmental and get a life. Or something.

Now it's time to fry the chicken. While that's going on (and do I even have to mention how good the kitchen smelled at that point?), it's time for a little saute action. Heat some oil, add some black mustard seeds, then chopped serrano chiles.

 

Now, here's where it might have been good to plan ahead. The recipe called for two ingredients not easily found at my regular grocers: black mustard seeds and fresh curry leaves. However, I recently discovered a local Indian grocer, and when I called them a few days earlier, they had both in stock. Of course I didn't run right over to buy them, and of course when I got there, no fresh curry leaves. The kind woman at the counter said I could easily substitute curry leaf powder--and they were out of that too. Apparently there'd been a run on it, since the fresh curry leaves ran out (due, she said, to a problem with the "food department"). She asked me what I was making, and when I said Chicken 65, she smiled and waved her hand in dismissal. "You'll be fine," she said. She then explained that curry leaves don't have much flavor themselves, but act as a flavor enhancer when added to other foods, usually through oil. But with Chicken 65, it would be OK to not use them.

Again, I love these stories, and it was so fun to have the woman at the store know the food I was talking about and how the curry leaves operated.

The recipe calls for the mustard seed/serrano mix to be poured over the chicken, but I served it on the side instead, well aware of the spice tolerance--or lack thereof--of certain members of the household.

The chicken, in the meantime, went from pink to red in the fryer.

 

Verdict? Two thumbs way up. Everyone had seconds, and there were no leftovers. I loved it with the mustard/serrano mix, the others loved it without. Even Teen 1, who upon learning we were having chicken had rolled his eyes as only a 16-year-old can and said, "Didn't we have chicken, like, last week?" conceded that it was tasty.

So. I'm looking forward to trying more fine things from this book, and as I have two copies, I can offer the chance for someone else to try them too. To win a signed copy of the book--and perhaps some shelf-stable goodies from the local Indian grocer--leave a comment on this post, and talk about Indian food. Have you had any? What do you like? Never tried it? Why not? I'll take comments through next Thursday, June 11, and announce a winner at next week's Friday Food.

In the meantime, I give you: The Legendary Chicken 65.

copyright 2009 Monica Bhide

 

1 cup plain yogurt (such as Dannon)

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1 teaspoon store-bought ginger-garlic paste

1 teaspoon red chile powder or red chile flakes (or more)

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

2 drops red food coloring

¼ teaspoon table salt to start

1 ¼ pounds chicken tenders, cut into 2-inch cubes

2 cups plus 2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 teaspoon black mustard seeds

4 small green Serrano chiles, finely chopped

20 fresh curry leaves

 

1.       In a large bowl, combine the yogurt, cornstarch, ginger-garlic paste, chile powder, lemon juice, food coloring, and salt. Mix well. Do not worry if the marinade looks pink! When you deep-fry the chicken it will turn a luscious reddish-brown. Add the chicken chunks and mix to combine.

2.       Heat 2 cups of the oil in a deep fryer. When the oil is hot but not smoking, add a small piece of bread; if the bread floats to the top, the oil is ready. Add a few pieces of chicken at a time and fry until the chicken is crisp on the outside and cooked on the inside, 2 to 3 minutes. Remove the chicken using a slotted spoon and drain on a paper towel. Continue until you have fried all the pieces. Be sure to allow time between frying for the oil to reheat to the right temperature. Discard any remaining marinade.

3.       Place the chicken on a serving platter.

4.       In a small skillet, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons vegetable oil. When the oil begins to shimmer, add the mustard seeds. When the seeds begin to sizzle, add the green chiles and curry leaves. Fry for about 30 seconds, until the curry leaves begin to crisp. If you have handle the spice, add another ¼ teaspoon of chile powder to the oil just before removing it from the heat.

5.       Pour over the chicken and serve.

When sentiment rules over reason

Before I tell today's story, please take a moment to visit my good friend Antay's site and give him some well-deserved condolences on the loss of his much-loved dog, Angus.

 

As is typical when I know someone who’s had a major sad event in their life, I can’t help applying it to myself. I already know how awful it feels to lose a well-loved pet. So this morning, still thinking about lovely Angus and poor Antay, I looked at Holli, all eager and panting by the door, and lost my senses and took her for a walk at 8 a.m.

 

There’s a reason I don’t usually do this. Namely, she doesn’t do well with dogs she doesn’t know—and it’s a veritable Dogtown around here after the school buses leave and the moms all go out to walk their dogs. I usually wait until later in the morning. But I was feeling all nostalgic and loving of my dogs, so off we went.

 

First up was the docile Cavalier from a couple blocks away. That dog’s owner has already learned to cross the street when he sees us. Then it was the annoying poodle. Holli’s hackles were up. Then the stupid golden retriever who has some aggression issues of his own. Then a barky terrier, a schnauzer, and some big furry thing slightly smaller than a pony. For a 40-pound dog, Holli can really demonstrate some solid muscles—at points I had to hold the leash with both hands. Who needs a weightlifting program? Just walk Holli when she sees dogs she doesn't know.

 

Then some stupid lady jogger comes along with some big mutt, and I cross the street because Holli is already freaking out. The woman stops jogging and starts walking toward me. “Oh,” I say, “You know what, my dog doesn’t do well with dogs she doesn’t know.”

And she says, “Oh, all dogs love my dog.”

Um, lady jogger? No, not all dogs love your dog. If I cross the street and tell you not to come close, guess what—don’t come close.

 

No blood was drawn. But I think a lesson was learned.

 

Finally, a mile from home, it was time to turn around, for all my sentimental and gooey feelings about Holli had pretty well evaporated. She needed to pee, so we stopped, and I heard a little hissing noise that I ignored—until the sprinkler head in the yard next to me suddenly shot up and sprayed me full force.

 

You know what? When you’re wearing wet jeans and a wet t-shirt? 55 degrees is not warm enough.

 

So I’m still very sad for Antay. But Holli will not trick me into walking at 8 a.m. again tomorrow.