Tag Food

Comfortably Complicated

Michael Leave a comment

I got a new cookbook. I love reading cookbooks, especially those with stories. This particular one is filled with things a real person in a real kitchen can cook for a real family. From scrambled eggs to roasted chicken to perfect hamburgers to seared scallops, there isn’t a bad recipe in the bunch.

I noticed something while I flipped through the pages and glanced at techniques and tools and anecdotes. The ones I stopped at first, the ones that caught my eye and I had to read from title to end, were those mysterious favorites – comfort foods. It was the stews and roasts, the turkey and mac and cheese that called to me. And not because they were my favorites.

A simple grilled salmon with a warm mustard sauce is probably the best thing I make and the most satisfying thing I eat. Yet the salmon recipe and all the other fish recipes waited for a later perusal. I’ve been known to work chicken into an entire week of meals. Chicken enchiladas, fried chicken, chicken salad all were passed by. What is a summer weekend without hamburgers on the grill? And there I think I figured out why the secrets behind the best burger stayed hidden.

It is the season for comfort. If I was reading this book for the first time in spring I might be reading of the versatile veggies. Summertime reading would lean toward that aforementioned hamburger and salmon. The dead of winter will be a good time to explore the bread and pizza recipes. But now, when the first frosts coat the world outside your window and the high temperatures are lower than the daily low temperatures of just a month ago, now is the time we look to warmth and comfort in our dinners. As the days grow shorter and the leaves turn and fall we seek out the meals that fill our homes with delightful scents and delectable platefuls.

They will be plenty of time to try out the new versions of grilled shrimp. This week I’ll work on some butternut squash soup.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Time Travel with a Chance of Meatballs

Michael Leave a comment

Have you seen this commercial? Some guy wants the newest version of his cell phone so he builds a time machine to go forward in time to when the contract on his current phone expires and he can upgrade. It’s not important what they are selling (well, it probably is to the company that paid for its production and air time but not to me). What is memorable about it is the end of the commercial. The time machine dings, the neighbor dude says “What’s that?” and the time traveler replies, “Just my lunch. Leftovers from tomorrow’s dinner.”

That really stuck with me. I can’t explain it but I like the idea. Imagine if we really did have time travel. What would you do? Where, or when, would you go – to some past historic event, perhaps the defining moment in mankind’s history? Ok, when would that be? Is there really some single event that created the essence of who we are today? Maybe you want to go forward in time to a not yet occurred event. But if it hasn’t yet occurred how do you know you want to go there, or then? Nope, I think regardless of how sophisticated we want to think we are our needs are pretty uncomplicated.  Food, shelter, sex. And the greatest of these is food.

It was just yesterday that I was thinking I needed lunch. Badly. I was hungry and I didn’t have anything to make a light meal with. I could have put a sandwich together but I wasn’t in a sandwich mood. I could have made a wrap but that’s just a sandwich that knows somebody. I could have had yogurt but why. What I really wanted was some spaghetti and meatballs. As luck would have it, that was the plan for today’s dinner and I was well aware of it at the time.

Think of the possibilities. Some big problem with leftovers is storing them (my fridge is always too full and by the time the next day comes around I’ve forgotten most of what’s In there), heating them (microwaves turn everything gummy, ovens take forever, and stovetops create as big a mess to clean up as the first time around), and eating them (face it, except for chili, nothing is better after sitting around for a day). Had I had a time machine I could have zipped from yesterday to today and put together a leftover plate, travelled back to yesterday and had the lunch I wanted. There’d be no storage issue, it would have still been hot so no heating would be necessary, and it would have tasted fresh since it is, was(?), will be(?). A bonus is there would be no waste. Nothing to sit around in the refrigerator, forgotten until the day before garbage pick-up day.

Yep, if I were to get my hands on a time machine I could solve the leftover problems of the world. It’s a great thing that commercial. I have no idea what they were trying to sell but they unintentionally sold me on spending some time inventing practical time travel. Gotta run. Today’s meatballs are calling. I hope I remember them tomorrow.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Pride Goeth Before Just About Everything – And With Good Reason

Michael 1 Comment

It was a while ago that I was on my way to an appointment and was there early. Very early. Most of the time I hit my appointments just about on time. This particular morning I was way off. I left too early, drove too fast, got no red lights, did who knows what but for some reason I was early with a capital ‘E.’ No problem. I’ll have breakfast.

I slipped into a hole in the wall diner and had a remarkably tasty omelet with chorizo, onions, jalapenos, tomatoes, salsa, and sour cream. This was after the waitress ran through the morning’s specials including a pancake special. I was told their pancakes are always special, so special that people come from all over for their pancakes. When I was finished and the waitress was clearing my place I mentioned that the omelet was very good, just as good as I’m sure the pancakes would have been. It was the salsa. The salsa was very good, very fresh, not too hot but authoritative enough to hold one’s attention. Oh yes, she agreed that it was good salsa. She went on to tell me that they sell it by the quart jar and, in fact, people come from all over for their salsa. As I was at the register paying my bill I noticed again that one of the specials was two eggs any style served over corned beef hash. I like corned beef hash and had I thought more of it when I ordered I would have taken advantage of that special. And I must have said that out loud because the lady running the cash register said that they make their own hash and I would have liked it. Everybody likes it. In fact, people come from all over for their hash.

Those were some people who were very sure of the products they were persuading the public to purchase. I‘m certain that had I brought it up I would have been assured that people come from all over for their oatmeal. Someday I’ll go back there for lunch and see what the world beats a path there for after 11. I’m sure that the lunch crowd comes from all over also.

That crowd might even be larger than usual. You see, when I got to my appointment two employees on the other side of the reception window were discussing lunch. I happened to mention the diner I had just come from and mentioned that they had a pretty good breakfast there and I bet lunch would be good also. They commented that they had indeed never been there; it looked too much like a hole in the wall for them to take a chance. Now that they heard good stuff about it, that might be where they end up when the lunch bell rings.

Contrast that with another day when I was sitting at a pizza parlor waiting for a calzone for my lunch of the day. A pleasant enough place with good enough food, good enough that when I feel the need for something that I would not ordinarily make for myself, like a calzone, I’ll let them make it for me. While I was waiting another diner walked in and asked if there were any lunch specials. The girl at the “Order Here!” corner of the counter looked up and said, “The specials are written on the window.”

You know, I bet I can find another pizza place that can make a good calzone.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

You Are What You Eat

Michael Leave a comment

I am an omnivore. I don’t say that with any particular reason other than as a preface to this post. I will eat just about anything you put in front of me. Anything traditionally considered food. I’m not ready for nor desirous of a guest role on Fear Factor, I don’t want to eat anything that would be featured on any of cable TV’s various weird food shows, and I do not test my manliness by eating peppers hot enough to substitute as rocket fuel when pureed to a diesel like consistency. But I will at least try just about any meat, vegetable, seafood, or dairy product – umm, except liver. And sometimes all in the same dish – think pizza with pepperoni, sausage, onion, mushroom, peppers, anchovies, and 2 or 3 cheeses. Add a beer and you have the basic food groups covered in full.

The thing about people like me who have somewhat indiscriminate pallets is that when it comes time to eat we just eat. I bring this up because the other day I realized I had prepared a fish for dinner for almost an entire week. I go through binges every now and then (see “Soup’s On”, May 14, 2015 and “It’s Taco Thursday,” August 6, 10215), but a fish binge got me dangerously close to declaring myself a pescatarian. The thing is I like fish. I could do that. And that’s scary.

I thought about this. Salmon alone could cover a week’s dinners. Salmon in mustard sauce, salmon salad, grilled jerked salmon, salmon and Thai chilies, salmon burgers, blackened salmon, and the classic cedar plank salmon. Those are just the preparations I’ve done. There are probably 3 or 4 million others. Add to that the few thousand other fish recipes, seafood pastas, sandwiches and tacos, and sushi rolls and there are enough fish dishes to not double up for an average life span.

It could be done. But would I really want to do it. I don’t know. A lifetime without bacon? No leftover turkey from Thanksgiving dinner? No hotdog to go with baseball and apple pie? A picnic without cold fried chicken? Nope. It sounds tempting, and very healthy, but there are just too many good things in the world to eat not to at least try them all. Variety may not be the spice of life but it certainly makes a respectable entrée.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater

Michael 1 Comment

If Peter, Peter was dining on that big orange gourd today he’d have a hard time finding a pumpkin shell for the Missus. That’s because they are making everything out of pumpkin these days. There’s so much pumpkin out there they have to be using every bit of it, including the shells!

Just a couple of weeks ago I wondered about the early emergence of pumpkin beer. (See “So They Say,” August 24, 2015.) And a year ago I wondered about the preponderance of pumpkin everythings. (See “It’s the Not So Great Pumpkin,” October 20, 2014.) This week we can combine the two. Just in one supermarket ad flyer that came out so early in September the days were still in single digits there appeared sixteen ways to eat your pumpkin – all on one page. Peter, Peter would have a field day!

There are pumpkin cookies, cakes, and coffee like always. There’s pumpkin yogurt, granola, and gelato for the adventurous. There is pumpkin bisque and pumpkin ravioli for those of questionable stability. And there will be more when we eventually actually enter fall.

One thing we’ll probably not see at all, though, is pumpkin tea. Did you ever notice that coffee drinkers get the odd flavors associated with holidays and seasons? Coffee comes in peppermint, cider, jelly bean, and, of course, pumpkin flavors. Tea is just tea. Oh there are herbal varieties and different tea flavors but those are either all teas or not teas at all. And they don’t change with the weather. A tea drinker can get his or her favorite variety year round.

I didn’t see an ad for pumpkin flavored chewing gum this year. Yet. Last year it was pretty close to Halloween before that item showed up in an ad. I did see an ad for pumpkin flavored tortilla chips. Don’t forget the queso.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

The Salad Days of Summer

Michael Leave a comment

Even worse than the dog days of summer are the summer salad days. Those are the days when even a confirmed carnivore welcomes a chilled plate of veggies in place of steak and ‘tators.

I hit the salad days about a week ago. It was a day that started out like no day should ever start with me being hauled away in the back of an ambulance after ripping a gash in my leg on a hunk of cardboard. You know how much a paper cut hurts. Think of cardboard as a bunch of paper all stacked up just waiting to slice through an unsuspecting appendage. It wasn’t so terrible. A couple of hours in the emergency room, a few lab tests, a pair of stitches and one large tetanus shot and home in time for lunch.

But honesty, after a morning like that, that started before I even had breakfast, even though I was hungry as a bear, the last thing I wanted to do was eat. I was quite content sitting with my leg elevated and the noon newscast detailing the horrors other metro residents had been facing that morning. Fortunately my daughter recognized the grumbling noise coming from the living room not coming from me because I couldn’t get comfortable but coming from me because my stomach was quite sure my mouth had been stitched shut.  “How about a salad?”

It seemed innocent enough. Some lettuce, perhaps a tomato, the sort of thing that one burns more calories eating than one expends on chewing. Boy was I wrong. I got an old fashioned “what’s in the fridge that can look a little like a chef’s salad” salad. Green and red peppers, red onions, mushrooms, ham, turkey, provolone, cheddar, and carrots on a bed of butter lettuce with ranch dressing. Fabulous! Filling, tasty, a variety of textures, and still light when compared to my usual lunch of pepperoni and peanut butter on wheat toast.

That started a run of salads from simple leftover rotisserie chicken salad on a bed of lettuce to a full out steak salad. We make ours with hearty greens, bell peppers, sweet onions, radishes, hard boiled eggs, whatever leftover steak might be in the fridge warmed up, and French fries (oven baked if you want the healthy version). That with some fresh melon for dessert and you really can forget about a classic steak and baked potato. And be satisfied.

But the salad days won’t last long. It’s only a matter of time before I’ll want an old fashioned hot dog off the grill smothered with chopped onions and baked beans.  Maybe two of them.  Make that three.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

That’s a Bargain!

Michael Leave a comment

There’s something very satisfying about finding a great buy. I’ve run into quite a few lately. No, not at the used car dealer, not on a call from a broker, not even at the dollar store – and you know how much I love the dollar store. The bargains I’ve been running across have been at the meat counter.

Really, the meat counter. Everything we’ve heard this summer says meat is the last place where there should be bargains. Droughty conditions are still responsible for less than the traditionally fatted calf not to mention the somewhat older steaks on the hooves. Bird flu is dropping chickens like clay pigeons. Pigs seem to be making a comeback but bacon prices are still playing the yo-yo game. Meat just isn’t on top of the specials lists.

One of the effects of not going to work every day is having lots of time on one’s hands. And I still have to get my exercise in. At this stage of my recovery walking is the best exercise I can take on. But with temperatures in the 80s and 90s a casual walk around the neighborhood could mean a sudden case of heat stroke, or worse. The answer is daily walks around the local mega-mart.  A trip along the perimeter is quite a healthy distance and I get to pass produce, bakery, deli, fish, meat, dairy, and the as-seen-on-TV section. With the exception of the tele-specials it’s almost like shopping at a local farmers market. I can buy just the veggies and salad fixings I’ll be using that day, I can get fresh rolls every morning, the fish monger is laying out his catches of the day just as I’m passing buy, and at the meat market they are marking down all the stuff left from the day before. I’m saving 30 to 40% from the regular price because they want it out of their refrigerators and into someone else’s. Mine will do.

If you figure the regular weekly shoppers are picking up a few days’ worth of meals on one trip, they are ending up with the same day old product at home in a couple of days. I’m buying what I’m going to be cooking in a few hours. And saving a bundle doing it.

Yeah, I know it’s a little over the top for just a couple of dollars but it gives me something to do before the noon news comes on. You have to make a little fun for yourself somehow. What better way than a good hunk of meat, fresh veggies, and a gadget that lets you make a bowel out of several strips of bacon. That’s a bargain.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

It’s Taco Thursday!

Michael 1 Comment

Yes, I am quite aware that the entire rest of the world recognizes Taco Tuesday. But I post only on Monday and Thursday and Taco Monday sounds stupid even though I’m just as apt to eat a taco on a Monday as a Thursday or any other day of the week.

In fact, that’s the point of today’s post. And you thought this was going to be pointless like all the others. The point is I’m worrying myself a bit. I seem to have fallen into a taco trough. (That’s sort of like a taco rut but more alliterative.)  I really am apt to have a taco any day of the week and any time of any day. And not just tacos. Toss into that mix burritos, fajitas, and enchiladas, just about anything with meat and cheese in a tortilla and you have my diet from the past couple of weeks.

Lately I’ve had a lot of appointments and trying to do as much as I can around the house. For me that means I’m working sometimes up to two, maybe three hours a day. (I tire easily.) Standing in front of a stove isn’t on the list. Nor is on the list standing in front of the counter prepping something to go into the oven. A sandwich is quite doable, but who wants a steady diet of sandwiches? Thus, the taco. As quick as the sandwich but certainly more fun. And just as versatile.

Over the past week I’ve had a couple of breakfast burritos with scrambled eggs, sausage, peppers and onions, and tomatoes in a flour tortilla. I had a quick lunch of ham and cheese quesadilla, a fajita made from thinly sliced flank steak that I originally was going to use in a cheesesteak, grilled peppers and onions, some provolone cheese, and some tomato slices. I made a dinner of a soft corn tortilla with leftover pot roast and caramelized onions, cheddar cheese, Boston lettuce, and a splash of hot sauce. I even had a more traditional taco dinner with seasoned ground beef, jack cheese, lettuce, red onions, green peppers, and black olives.

All of that and there’s not a drop of Hispanic blood in me unless I got some during a transfusion. Still, the adaptable wraps of the southwest have been far outpacing my ingrained Italian cooking. This weekend I may have to make lasagna to re-center my chakra. Or maybe I’ll do layers of spiced chicken, cheese, and flour tortillas in an enchilada casserole instead. That’s pretty lasagna-like, don’t you think?

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Can You Keep a Secret?

Michael 1 Comment

There is a weekly feature in one of our city’s newspapers where a local celebrity is interviewed in a basic high school journalism class format. You know – what’s your favorite movie, which is your favorite local sports team, what would you find in your glove compartment, what song always gets you on the dance floor. And even though the questions are pretty kitschy, it can make for some interesting reading on a light news day. Of course nobody ever answers all of the questions. Some almost famous people don’t want you to know that their first concert was Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention, so the “official” answer might be “Oh, I don’t go to concerts.” And many of them also don’t go to the movies, watch TV, dance when or when not anybody is watching, own glove compartments, have a favorite food, or a celebrity crush. But one thing every one of them has is a secret vice.

Now that’s odd. If you were to stop the average Jo and/or JoAnn on the street you’d find that most of us have a TV, go to movies, read books, and even sing in the shower. But asking for a secret vice is like asking if they know any good government secrets. Nobody would dare reveal his or her secret vice. Let me ask you, can you keep a secret? So can I!

That’s the difference between the famous and the ordinary. In a bid to appear just as ordinary, the famous fall over themselves trying to do something that the ordinary would never do. (I know, that’s a weird sentence but I tried writing it 4 or 5 different ways and believe it or not, that’s the best sounding one of the bunch.) See, the famous people want to appear to be just one of the average Joes, or JoAnns. They share their secrets with everybody and then when the tabloids make a big deal out of it they get all huffy.

So to make the famous people feel like one of us non-famous folks I’m going to do something I’d never ordinarily do. I’m going to reveal my secret vice. This will make any famous people reading this feel much better about connecting with ordinary people. My secret vice is…shhhh, keep it to yourself now…my secret vice is rippled potato chips with French onion dip. Always eaten alone. Never shared. One chip after another each dipped in that cool, savory, bitey flavored cream cheese based condiment until every last one out of the one pound bag is gone.

Wow! I feel so much better now. Almost famous even.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Support Your Local Garden

Michael Leave a comment

Locavores are not people who eat their neighbors. But they are people who eat their neighbors’ meat and produce. It’s not a new idea, it’s not a new term, it’s not a new fad. It’s as old as backyard gardens and farmers’ markets and the term was first used in 2005. It reached a milestone in 2013 when AqSuared released an iPhone app just in case you didn’t know what was in season around your home.

If you’re a food junkie and you spend some time watching TV or surfing the net in search of articles and shows built with foodies in mind, catch phrases are growing faster than zucchini during a hot summer. Locavore and Farm to Table are two of the hottest right now.  (Farm to Table is another not new idea going back to 2003 as a recognized “movement.”) Why are they so hot? Probably because it’s hot right now.

Everything tastes better in the summer. It should. That’s the peak growing and harvesting season for almost everything we eat that comes from the earth. It’s when farmer’s markets pop up in parking lots every week, when local coops are wholesaling produce to the local supermarkets and purveyors, and when a salad bar at the neighborhood restaurant isn’t such a bad thing after all. It makes you glad that somebody in the early 2000s was thinking we should eat local.

Wait a minute! In the early 2000s? How about in the early 1900s, 1800, 1700s even. I can’t speak personally of any of those but I can reach back to mid-twentieth century when my father and every other father in our little neighborhood turned most of their backyards into vegetable gardens. The dads would come home from work some spring day and plan the “patch.” That weekend, shovels, rakes, and hoes turned and prepared soil for seeds and seedlings. Daily watering and weeding was added to kids’ lists of chores from then through the summer months. Moms started planning for summer sides for those veggies put to immediate use and for canning, freezing, and otherwise preserving those grown in quantity for use during the fall and winter months.

Locavores claim “locally produced” means within 100 miles. Those old gardeners did it within 100 feet! Oh there is nothing like eating a tomato or an ear of corn that you picked up at a local farmers’ market from a real local farmer. But even they pale to the ones that grow outside your back door. Now that’s local!

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

To see a previous post on Farmers’ Markets, click here.