Showing posts with label slap chop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label slap chop. Show all posts

Sunday, September 27, 2009

gruel on toast

The terrorists did not, in fact, win: It's late September and we're still eating tomatoes. Later this week I'll be frying up some of the green ones,


and this weekend the yachtsman and I made one of our favorite summer dinners, probably for the last time this year: a fat, juicy heirloom tomato, sliced and drizzled with olive oil and balsamic, then sprinkled with a little feta or goat cheese; and fresh corn, boiled and rolled in salty butter. Saying we "made" that dinner is an overstatement: we sliced and shucked it. The most effort of the evening went into a little shizzle I call walnut toasts, and really these are very little effort at all. So little effort, what I'm about to share with you should not qualify as a recipe.

Walnut Toasts
Adapted from A Year in a Vegetarian Kitchen, my favorite cookbook for simple, delicious, vegetarian food, though I think a little part of the yachtsman dies every time he sees me pull it off the shelf because he knows he will be eating gruel for dinner.

1/3 cup walnuts, chopped
a little less than 2 tablespoons olive oil, separated
1 clove garlic, minced or pressed
bread, sliced (2-4 pieces, depending on how big your bread is)
parmesan cheese, grated
s&p, to taste

See the rind on that cheese? Don't throw it away. When you've grated down to the end, wrap up the rind and throw it in the freezer; we'll be using it later on to make soup. Soup that goes quite nicely with walnut toasts, in fact.

1. Chop your nuts and place in a small bowl.

2. Heat 1 of your 2 tablespoons olive oil in a little pan over medium heat. Add garlic and saute until translucent, taking the garlic off the heat before it browns. Pour over nuts.

3. Add (less than) the other tablespoon of oil to nuts (you want the nut mixture to be wet with oil but not swimming in it) and add salt & pepper to taste.


4. Lightly toast the bread. For myself and the yachtsman I use whatever I have on hand, usually the same bread I make toast with for breakfast. But for special occasions on which I am serving gruel for dinner to unwitting guests, I use a fancy country bread.

5. Top the toasted bread with the nut mixture and sprinkle with grated parmesan. Pop in the toaster oven (or the regular oven if you don't have the toaster variety) to slightly melt the cheese.

This bread is presliced; when I buy nicer bread to serve to nicer people, I slice it a little thicker.

Walnut toasts are health food: Studies have shown that a diet rich in walnuts cancels out a diet rich in cupcakes. But walnut toasts are not hippie food; even the yachtsman likes walnut toasts, and he bought veal at the farmers market on Saturday. I'm pretty sure that walnut toasts are a super food, and they're definitely a super-easy-but-delicious food. If you have leftover chopped walnuts because your husband has decided to grill a sausage to go with his soup instead of eating nuts on toast, pop the nuts in the fridge and eat them the next day for lunch -- on toast sprinkled with cheese or with a spoon out of the bowl. To balance out all this nutrition, have a cupcake for dessert.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

you're gonna love my nuts


It's been a long time since I sat in my Couch Jedi outfit at a kitchen table covered with crap and ate gruel a la nuts for dinner. But it's raining (again, still), I haven't had a day off in over a week (which to a Couch Jedi is like not having a day off for almost a year), and our apartment is a veritable sty (the place looks like it's been burglarized and then abandoned and then squatted in: Dirty laundry, random pieces of paper, weeks worth of mail, and other random items spilling from drawers, strewn across furniture, and stacked haphazardly on every available surface; actual piles of dirt, in addition to the customary tufts of dog hair, in all the corners, and a buildup of dust so thick we're gonna need a shovel to get it up; bathrooms the conditions of which I dare not speak).

A normal person would have come home from her ten-hour day (which to a Couch Jedi is like working an eighteen-hour day. In a coalmine.), picked up the house, gone for a jog, made something fresh and summery for dinner, and then spent the evening at the piano playing show tunes while her husband sang along. A Couch Jedi, on the other hand, would strike this normal person down with a light saber, pull on a pair of fleece pants, make gruel a la nuts for dinner, and then retire to the couch for an evening of television watching.


The perfect dessert, of course, would be a nice little serving of Chuck Bass, but the yachtsman isn't having it. He wants to watch a British documentary television program from the nineties about squirrels. Which to a Couch Jedi is like being forced to watch My Dinner With Andre twenty times in a row while being hit in the head with a brick.

Friday, April 3, 2009

adventures in eating out

I'm not sure how I feel about dining at Koto.

On the one hand, an onion was set on fire.



On the other, this man threw a piece of zucchini at my head.


But Chris's mom, or maybe it's Chris's stepsister, likes to eat there, so we go from time to time. On our next visit I'm going to bring my own little pocketful of chopped vegetables and that guy is going to PAY.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

saturday afternoon lunch was thursday night dinner

Tomato-Cheddar Soup
Cheddar Buttermilk Biscuits
Fennel & Celery Salad

For lunch today: tomato soup and a biscuit (leftovers from Thursday night's dinner) and The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (courtesy of Junot Diaz, though I'm not sure I'm thanking him: am I the only person in the Western Hemisphere who did not pee herself with joy over this book? Because I'd rather pee on Junot Diaz, or even better, reread Drown).

[I'm hoping that my dad can show me how to take photos that look more like this or this, but for now we're all going to have to settle for these:]




Chris was out of town this week, but when he found out the lovely Lisa and Amos were coming over for dinner this past Thursday, he told me to make sure to "cook them up some gruel," and recommended that I serve them "something pureed," because according to Chris I "sure do like the blender." That's sort of a load of bl*g, though I did use my immersion blender for the soup (see recipe below).

I had this tomato-cheddar soup for the first time at my mother-in-law Jo Ruth's house on the night before Thanksgiving, and it was so good I've been makin' it all winter. It's a pretty serious upgrade from the Campbell's tomato my sister and I used to eat (along with grilled American cheese on white bread and the store-brand version of Oreos. I should note that we ate this kind of thing in our twenties; our parents would never, ever, ever have fed us canned soup or processed cheese, and I don't think I even knew that white bread existed). For Thursday night I made the soup early and stuck it the fridge so I could focus on not fucking up the biscuits and cutting my fingers off with the mandoline.

When Jo Ruth made this soup, she served it with Shelburne Farms' deliciously cheesy biscuits, which I broke into bite-sized pieces and floated in my soup like croutons. I wanted Lisa and Amos to be able to play with their food, too, but the Shelburne Farms biscuits were made by Jo Ruth, who is from the South, and I get the feeling that making a batch of biscuits is as easy for her as sleeping late is for me. I haven't done much baking since the Duncan Hines brownies my sister and I used to whip up after school (at this point my parents were divorced, and all dietary restrictions had moved out with my father), and the Shelburne Farms biscuit recipe includes notes about keeping the ingredients "as cold as possible" and working the dough "as little as possible" and even had a little anecdote about how one time the authors made the biscuits in an unheated barn or some shit and though the authors were "a little chilly," "the biscuits were perfect." That's quaint and all, but so not happening in my culinary world. Instead I found this recipe for cheddar buttermilk biscuits on epicurious.com, which multiple reviewers described as easy, and it was. I was so frickin' pleased with myself when Lisa and Amos walked into the house and noted how good it smelled, then oohed and awed over my beautiful biscuits cooling on the stovetop.

After handing Amos a biscuit because he was so hungry he felt light headed, I started making the salad, a fennel and celery thing I'd read about here, which I hoped would be light and crispy enough to balance out the rest of the heavy, cheesy meal (it's early March in Vermont, and I'm still hittin' the winter foods; as I told my friend Taije when I moved back to Vermont from DC last summer, winter in Vermont makes me want to lie in bed and eat mashed potatoes. FOR SIX MONTHS). My stepmother, Chrysanne, would be horrified to know that I went out and bought a single-use kitchen appliance just for this one recipe, but I knew I would never be able to slice the fennel and celery thinly enough without a mandoline, and since Chris is obsessed with the slap chop, I thought maybe the mandoline would help him stop having a boring life. After having used the mandoline, however, I must warn Girlie Hands never to go near it lest he ruin his potential career as a hand model: I cut not one but two fingers while mandoline-ing my fennel and celery, and only avoided slicing a third finger when Lisa and Amos simultaneously screamed, "STOP!" just before I took off the tip of my pinkie. The recipe is online here, and my only advice is that mandoline-ing and multitasking do not mix. Best to stick with the slap chop.

RECIPE RATINGS & NOTES

Tomato and Cheddar Soup: 4.5 out of 5 Heavy Winter Soup stars
[See recipe for cooking notes. The soup is rich and the allspice gives it a nice, but not weird, flavor. As is the recipe feeds three people well, but is barely enough for four. It's an easy, tasty soup that is fancy enough to serve guests, but is also a good option for those afternoons when in the rest of the world it is spring but in Vermont it is still winter, just brown and ugly now instead of snowy and pretty. This soup pairs nicely with an episode of Gossip Girl or the latest issue of US Magazine.]

Cheddar Buttermilk Biscuits: 4 out of 5 Savory Biscuit stars
[These were cheesy and delicious and easy to make. I substituted minced, fresh sage for the scallions, and the recipe made a dozen biscuits with some dough left over. I highly recommend chunks of biscuit in the tomato soup.]

Fennel and Celery Salad: 3.5 out of 5 Salad stars
[As Lisa put it, "This tastes like spring." Light and crispy and lemony, so easy to make, but beware the finger-eating mandoline, or you will be serving your nice friends blood and skin as well as fennel and celery.]


Tomato-Cheddar Soup
from Cooking With Shelburne Farms

The recipe here is barely modified from the cookbook, which is probably some kind of copyright infringement. DO NOT RAT ME OUT OR I WILL POUND YOUR ASS IN THE PARKING LOT AFTER SCHOOL.

1 packed cup finely grated cheddar
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 small onion, diced
1 cup half-and-half or whole milk [whole milk is really fine, as this soup is as rich as The Donald was in the '80s.]
1 (28 oz.) can fire-roasted tomatoes [the recipe calls for whole tomatoes in puree, but I've used diced tomatoes in not puree, and didn't notice any difference, though I think the fire-roasted part is important.]
1/2 teaspoon allspice [the recipe called for 1 teaspoon, which I used the first time I made it, and maybe I just have some super-strong allspice, but that pot of soup tasted like tomato pumpkin pie, and not in a good way.]
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt [or more to taste, yo.]
freshly ground pepper

1. In a small bowl, toss the grated cheddar with the flour, making sure to coat all shreds [For those of you who are neurotic, I've found from neurotic experience that you don't have to be too, too neurotic about this coating-all-shreds business. Because when you PACK the cheese, it's hard to SEPARATE THE SHREDS for coating. I'm just sayin'.]

2. In a large, wide soup pot set over medium-high heat, melt the butter until foamy. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent but not colored, about 3-4 minutes.

3. Add the half-and-half to the pot, bring to a simmer, and simmer gently for 3-4 minutes. Take the pot off the heat.

4. Put a handful of cheddar into the pot and whisk into the hot half-and-half mixture until the mixture is smooth. Repeat in handfuls until the cheddar has magically disappeared from the bowl.

5. Add the tomatoes and their puree, the allspice, and the salt to the pot and stir. Return the pot to medium heat for 3-4 minutes and cook, stirring to blend. Do not allow the soup to boil. [If the soup does boil, do not panic, as this does not seem to have any effect whatsoever.]

6. Using an immersion blender, a food processor, or a blender [my vote is for the immersion blender], blend the soup.

7. Return the soup to the pot if you took it out, warm it gently over medium-low heat, adjust seasonings, blah blah blah...